#sometimes when things in my life don’t work out i imagine a alternate timeline where they do

[galaxyofhair]

There is no Zelda Timeline

So, first of all--I get it, sort of a spicy way to start off the post but give me some time to explain what I mean:

I recently started seeing some lore videos pop up for TOTK, and I am enjoying them so far as they concern the events specific to TOTK and BOTW--but inevitably there are more and more videos beginning to theorize how TOTK impacts and fits into the larger Zelda Timeline published in the Hyrule Historia

So I used to write articles about Legend of Zelda that explored all of the different important themes and the philosophy behind it’s design in preparation for what was essentially a super-powered fanfiction sequel idea that I had. I had planned to write out my idea and then present it to the world on this gaming journalism site I was writing for.

Without getting too far into the details of that great hubris which has cursed my life--one of the things that I learned from researching the development of LoZ is this: 

So like, you know how every game in the Zelda series, with a few exceptions, feels largely disconnected from every other game? I assume we all do because it’s like, one of the main struggles of the series for the fans is the collective cognitive dissonance we all share as we try to cobble these games together into a single continuity. We WANT--and I do mean WE, myself included--to believe that these stories can all exist together to create a larger, more interesting connective narrative.

The alternative sucks too, but it’s been a long time since I’ve heard somebody put actual words to this rather than dancing around it: The alternative is that every new game of a new style is disconnected, and we really just let Nintendo reboot this series like 10 different times like it’s fucking Final Fantasy.

Aonuma has said a bunch of similar, but somewhat contradictory things on the subject. In an interview in 2017 he said,

“We published a book with the timeline, but we definitely got comments from users saying, ‘Is this really accurate? I think this should be this way. It’s different.’ And history is always kind of imaginative. It’s left to the person who writes the book. So that’s how we approach it as well. It’s not necessarily that we come up with a game and think, ‘Oh, this is where it fits in the timeline.’ Honestly, lately, we’re kind of scared to say exactly where things are in the timeline for that reason. But we like to leave things to the imagination most of the time.”

http://nintendoeverything.com/nintendo-on-its-approach-to-the-zelda-timeline-understands-fans-appreciation-for-it/

This interview would clearly indicate that they just don’t think about the timeline because these games are designed with the gameplay first, the immediate story second, and the larger timeline doesn’t even make onto the list of concerns until the game is already out.

However, to throw some cold water on that thought train, Aonuma later gave a slightly different answer: “When we start to work on a new Zelda, we of course think about all this timeline stuff. Nintendo has a lot of IPs today. And Shigeru Miyamoto asks that we do our best to keep the timeline coherent. So we do it. But honestly, when we start to think of a new Zelda, respecting the timeline is a constraint for us. We would like to be free to imagine whatever we want without having to worry about the timeline. Being able to create while still keeping Zelda's essence, and bring new things to the table. Except now when we think of a new idea, we have to wonder "OK, but where does it fit in the timeline ?" and it instantly becomes very complicated ! And sometimes, we can't do these new ideas because it wouldn't fit in the timeline ! So, for the creative teams, it's an hindrance. Yeah, we published a timeline in a book but among our staff, we would like to be able to stop thinking about it...”

Keep in mind, this quote was translated from French by this Reddit post:

https://www.reddit.com/r/truezelda/comments/6rtbh7/aonuma_on_how_they_view_the_timeline_when_making/

While Aonuma is definitely expressing some frustration and even a hint of disdain for the timeline, it does clearly indicate that they’re thinking about it. This was also in 2017.

On the one hand, it is clear that the Timeline was a subject of debate inside Nintendo for a time: They published the Hyrule Historia and gave the timeline an official stamp, they published Skyward Sword and attempted to give the series an origin story, they made BOTW and filled it with references and items from older games.

But is this really a studio thinking about their series as a large interconnected universe, or is it just fan service and another rebooted game? I’ll admit, this is the part of the post where the proof ends and my opinion begins: I don’t think they actually think about the timeline when they make these games. TOTK is filled with plenty of details that seem to prove they could barely stand having to design around BOTW’s story.

While Skyward Sword proved to be a... semi-effective prequel to the series, making it plausible that games like OoT, MM, WW, and TP might all be connected--but it too suffered from some odd inconsistencies. Are we ever going to acknowledge the mirror Hyrule? Lorule? The Twilight Realm? Are Zora and Rito still related?

But TOTK then turns around and retells most of that story--retelling Ganondorf’s origin story, the origin of the sky islands--it just doesn’t fit. TOTK literally cannot exist in the same timeline as SS because it would imply the Ganondorf existed as the demon king before Demise started the cycle of reincarnation (for Ganon and Ganondorf).

And I don’t have a source for this but Aonuma’s answer to where BOTW lies on the timeline has changed once or two from “YOU decide!” to “IDK, on all of them I guess?”

I do love these games, but I’m at the point where I feel like Nintendo has won, just wearing us down--there is no Zelda timeline, the timeline published in the Hyrule Historia was just a bit of fan service--and then the immediate next game that they did rebooted the series AGAIN. Right now the timeline, loosely, is BOTW ---> TOTK.

I don’t want to come out here trying to assassinate the Legend of Zelda series---but I do want folks to give it a hard look and ask yourselves: How long can Nintendo keep rebooting this series before it finally dies? How long before they accept that they need a continuity to keep fans interested? Do fans of the series even want continuity?

I eventually abandoned my fanfiction project after coming to the realization that Zelda is a mirrored puddle, the width of a lake. It can fool you into believing that great beasts must swim in the depths below--but dip your finger in and an inch down you touch concrete.

I think about the story I wanted to write once in a while---and lately I’ve been working on adapting it into an original project. I think I’m still a fan of the Zelda series, even if it does frustrate me. I think eventually, something will have to give---though for the moment I won’t bother speculating what.

#legend of zelda #Idk I'm sick of tags

[autisticandroids]

yknow those episodes where a character's whole personality gets split into 3-5 different distinct separate bodies? what bodies would cas have? I feel like it'd just be a mess tbh, imagine 5 different castiels all of them loving dean to a certain extent but showing it VASTLY differently. one cas would literally want to murder the others lmao

okay so i don’t actually think this trope would be an effective tool for analyzing cas? he’s not conflicted enough in himself. he’s too impulsive, too singleminded, too uninhibited. like, in the end, cas always ends up doing whatever he wants. there aren’t multiple discrete voices vying for control, really, or rather, if there are, one is always significantly stronger than the others. like in the end cas will always end up eating raw meat off the floor, you know? he’ll do what he wants. if i was going to do personality splitting i’d do it to someone intensely internally conflicted, like dean.

however, because i’m in an essay writing mood today, i’ll answer a question slightly to the left of the one you asked. cas may not be internally conflicted, but he is intensely changeable. these two things are related, actually; the same impulsivity and singlemindedness that mean he doesn’t have a ton of internal conflict at any given time mean that different ideas sound good to him at different times, because he isn’t really thinking about, say, what future-him will think of them. and he’s not really trying to maintain an image or identity. he’s just doing what feels right at the time, which is very different at different times and in different situations.

anyway, that in mind, i think a lot about ways to bring together many alternate versions of cas which sort of correspond to different times in the show.

i have a fic in my head about a bunch of cas-es pulled from alternate timelines by some kind of spell. so this would be set during the widower arc because the basic impulse here is to show dean a very bad time. just absolutely put him through hell. also, all the alternate timelines are different because different stuff happened, not because cas made different choices, because if we’re torturing dean it has to be like 5x04, the changes in cas can’t be cas’ fault. they have to be dean’s or just like, the universe’s (which makes them dean’s).

so dean is trying to bring cas back, and he finds some kind of spell that can bring someone “from another world.” and he tries it because hey. can’t hurt to try. anyway i’ve thought a long time about different versions of cas i would put in this and here is what i have. in order of when the timeline split off.

- a cas who never raised dean from hell. think 14x13 “lebanon.” this one i’m not too sure about, like, this could be fun, but i don’t know if it’s different enough from the next one. like this castiel would have lived through the averted apocalypse and subsequent general fuckery that happened as an angelic footsoldier, which would actually be pretty interesting now that i think about it, especially since all that stuff would have gone down soooooooo differently without cas specifically for your average angel footsoldier. like cas has PERSONALLY caused more upheaval in heaven in twelve years of spn than there seems to have been in millennia. so he would be the point of view of a normal footsoldier from a totally other world.

- a cas who died mid season four, and is pulled out of the empty in 2017 by this spell. i’m not sure when this cas died. my thoughts are (1) killed in on the head of a pin by alistair, (2) killed during his torture in the rapture, or (3) simply never resurrected after lucifer rising. (3) makes the most sense, but that cas has already thrown away everything for dean. i prefer the idea of a cas who loves dean, is already on the brink of disobedience for him, but has not yet taken the plunge. both on the head of a pin and the rapture are great places for this, and they both have strengths and weaknesses. if he died in the rapture, he was killed by heaven, which is fundamentally more fun, but he was also really very much over the edge already. if he died in on the head of a pin, he wasn’t killed by heaven, but he is perfectly teetering on the brink of falling for dean. regardless of when he died, the purpose of this cas is to be horrified at all the various and myriad ways he has destroyed and corrupted himself for dean in the other timelines.

- possibly endverse cas, who would have died in 2014, but like s4 cas, would have been pulled from the afterlife by the spell. i’m not so sure on this one. we as a society love endverse cas but i dunno what purpose he would serve. maybe endverse cas didn’t die in 2014, and instead was imprisoned by lucifer, because, you know. he’s the only brother lucifer has left. so he is very excited to see dean alive and well, since his dean is dead, and, not being an angel, cas can’t bring him back. the purpose of this cas would be to horrify dean that cas loves him and needs him so much, and to disgust the other cas-es with his neediness.

- a cas who was in some way on better terms with dean during s6. maybe dean and cas ride off into the sunset together after swan song instead of dean going to live with lisa, maybe dean prayed to cas while he was with lisa because he missed him, who knows. either way, cas has dean’s help with the angel revolution in season six from the start, and never goes to crowley. the plan cas and dean come up with to beat raphael includes breaking into the cage and stealing the grace of michael and lucifer, freeing sam and adam in the process. incidentally, it also involves cas possessing dean, because if cas is gonna eat archangel grace to become more powerful, he’s going to need a stronger vessel. so cas and dean have a whole like. midam situation happening. they’re a double archangel together, and godstiel never happened so none of the other terrible apocalypses that stemmed from that happened, and everything is pretty cool where they’re from, and also they’re obviously uhhhhhh SOME kind of together. the purpose of this cas is to upset dean because this cas shows how much better everything could have been and how much better his and cas’ relationship could have been if dean had simply been more considerate of cas in s6, and also freak dean out with how uh. close. this dean and cas are.

- a godstiel who managed to swallow purgatory without swallowing the leviathans and remained god. he’s probably soooomewhat less scary and murdery than canonverse godstiel because no leviathans, so you know, not as many angel purges or massacres on earth. and he probably went and fixed sam’s wall within about three days because cas is prideful but he does NOT like it when dean is mad at him. so they did kiss and make up, and so this cas would have had dean to act as his morality chain. but he’s still very scary and godstiel. and also he refers to dean as “The Beloved” you know. his purpose is to freak everyone out, because he’s scary, but also, for the past cas-es, because he is a terrifying abomination that they could never imagine becoming, for the future cas-es, because he is a reminder of their worst selves, and for dean, because he is a reminder of how dangerous cas is, but also because he uh. obviously has some feelings about his dean. unclear if they are consummated or not.

- a cas who naomi never rescued from purgatory, and who stayed there. hasn't spoken to another being in half a decade, has not recovered from his emotionally destroyed state in purgatory in s8. believes at first that the spell is his dean rescuing him, and is crushed when he realizes he was wrong. like endverse cas, his purpose is to show dean how much cas needs him and depends on him emotionally, and how he (dean) is capable of destroying cas, as well as his guilt for leaving him in purgatory and how lucky he is that his cas got out. this is especially noteworthy since the guilt for leaving cas in purgatory is part of the reason dean is trying to get cas back.

- a cas who stayed human after season nine, and has built himself a small human life over the next four years. he has a job and an apartment and friends outside the winchesters and yes, he still goes hunting after work sometimes, and he's still in contact with dean, but he is also independent in a way no other version of cas has ever been. he exists to freak out dean because dean has never seen cas independent of him. he is also fairly bitter at dean since dean did kind of stop spending time with him when he was no longer useful, and our dean feels guilty for that.

- a cas who showed up twenty minutes later in 10x03, finding sam dead and dean gone, and had to chase down demon dean, and has now spent three years following demon dean around as his tragically adoring stalker, because he hasn't found a way to resurrect sam yet and he doesn't want to put dean through the demon cure until he can save sam because he doesn't want dean to experience that guilt, but he also adores dean and wants to keep an eye on him and keep him safe and also keep him from doing anything too heinous, so he just covertly follows him around the country and watches from a distance as he commits various murders and fucks his way through every local bar scene. and occasionally cas finds dean something to kill, when the mark gets hungry, and drops it in his path. his purpose is to freak dean out with the lengths cas would go for him, and the depths cas would sink to.

anyway. lebanon cas and season four cas are horrified and perhaps disgusted (lebanon cas more than s4 cas) by ALL of the later cas-es, and how far they’re fallen, all of it for dean. godstiel and archangel cas being abominations, endverse cas and s9 cas being fallen, even purgatory cas and demon dean’s cas for their total dependence on dean.

purgatory cas and endverse cas are just happy to see a dean, even if it’s not their dean. demon dean’s cas, too, in a way. he’s happy to see a dean who is still human, who he can still have as a friend.

human cas is pissed to see that he was right, that dean would have stuck by him if he’d still had his powers, that this version of dean is doing spells to try and bring his cas, who is still an angel, back, whereas he and his dean only see each other once every couple months.

everyone is terrified and disgusted by godstiel, as i said before.

they’re mostly kind of thrown by archangel cas. a lot of them are jealous. godstiel is furious because how dare anyone, even an alternate version of himself, take dean as a vessel (even if dean likes it). godstiel isn’t really there, though, he resisted the summoning and just sort of popped his head through to see what was going on, and he goes back to his own reality pretty fast without murdering anyone.

also to be clear dean has not at this point examined or acknowledged any feelings he may have about his cas besides “friendship,” nor has he wondered what feelings his cas may have for him. given how many of the cas-es were clearly in some kind of relationship with their dean (endverse cas, archangel cas) or just openly in love with their dean (godstiel, purgatory cas, demon dean’s cas), dean is forced to reevaluate the nature of his and cas’ relationship.

#spn #asks #anonymous

[smells-like-mettaton]

soriel, 1 (chocolate) for the ask game?

Like a Box of Chocolates

Rating: G Word Count: 2734 Read on AO3: here

---

"Ok. I brought a few choices," Sans said while sitting with his back to the door. He pulled a plastic sack full of chocolate and chocolate-adjacent treats out from under his shirt.

"Oh, you did not have to do that." The voice behind the door sounded embarrassed.

"It's no big deal." He shrugged instinctively, though she wouldn't be able to see it. "Not like I candy things like this for you very often."

The lady laughed, even though the pun was a stretch. She was a great audience like that.

"I cannot argue with that. After all, it is the choco-thought that counts."

Sans let out a wheeze. Man, she had him beat in the bad jokes department. He needed to up his game.

"What can I say, I'm a sweet guy." That joke would work better if she could see his wink.

"You certainly are, my friend."

Sans blinked. He hadn't been prepared for the genuine warmth in her voice. Now he felt something like a melted chocolate himself.

"Uh. You'd better wait and make sure I didn't pick out garbage before you say that." He chuckled nervously and spread out the chocolates in the snow.

"Alright. Hit me with your best choco-shot."

He laughed out loud at that one too. She could really squeeze some mileage out of chocolate puns.

"First off we have the MTT-Brand Chocolate Mettaton. Which is exactly what it sounds like. Chocolate in the shape of everyone's favorite robot superstar." He scanned the back of the wrapper. "Contains sequins and glitter, but it's still monster food, so probably won't cause any more indigestion than Temmie Flakes. Still, wouldn't blame ya if you passed on that."

The lady laughed. "I do not know this 'Mettaton,' but he sounds like someone…"

Her voice trailed off, the way it always did when she neared a personal topic. It seemed to be happening more and more often lately. Sans didn't know if that was a good sign, or if he needed to do a better job of distracting her.

"Someone I know would have liked that," she finished clumsily.

"Welp. It's yours, then." He attempted to slide it under the door.

Attempted. The thick block of chocolate wouldn't fit through the narrow space.

"What are my other options?" The lady asked, not seeming to hear his failure.

(Or just ignoring it. The way they always ignored things they didn't want to acknowledge.)

Oh well. He'd deal with that later, if she wanted to.

He picked up the next box and rattled it. It looked thin enough to fit under the door.

"I think this one's called, uh, pocket?” He couldn’t tell for sure, since the box was labeled in a language he didn’t recognize. Where did Alphys get this stuff? “A pal gave it to me. They’re like chocolate-covered sticks, I think."

"Not precisely what I was looking for, but I would love to try it regardless," she said. "If I am allowed to have both options, I mean. If not, I should probably stick with the Em-Tee-Tee."

Sans bit back a snort. So she hadn't heard after all. That made this a lot more awkward.

"Do you wanna hear the other options first? Wouldn't want ya to have any regrets."

"Oh! There are more?"

She sounded as surprised as a kid finding an extra fry in the bottom of their Grillby's bag. He couldn't help grinning.

"Yup. Next up is a chocolate spider donut—”

“Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders?” The voice seemed on the verge of laughter again.

His eyesockets widened. “Uh… welp. Guess you don’t need the whole spiel, huh?”

“There is a spider bakesale right around the corner from my home,” the lady explained. “I believe they are saving for a… ‘heated limo’? To travel safely through Snowdin. I wish I could help them, but I did not think to take much gold when I…”

Another dead end. That was fine, Sans could piece together enough. Not that her personal life was any of his business, anyway.

“If it makes ya feel any better, they really raked me over the coals for this one.”

“It does not!” came her quick reply. “I only asked for a chocolate bar. Not for you to spend money that you need on me.”

Geez, this lady was too good for him. As if Sans ever really went out of his way for anyone.

Except Papyrus, but he was family. And sometimes Grillby, if he felt bad about failing to pay his tab for too long. And Alphys, but he owed her for screwing off after space-time blew up in their faces.

And now, the lady behind the door. The lady he didn’t owe anything to, except a few good laughs.

Who was he kidding? Those laughs were more important to him than anything.

“Eh, it just cost me one day of selling ‘dogs. Donut worry about it.”

“Very well. Since it was for a good cause, I will not grill you any further. But please tell me that was the last chocolate you purchased for me.”

“It’s the last one I purchased.” He grinned. While she couldn’t see his expression, she must have heard the but in his voice.

“Please tell me you did not steal any chocolate for me.”

“Geez, lady, what do you take me for? I’d never commit petty thievery.”

“Well, that is reassuring.”

“Yep. Gotta save room for the real high-dollar crimes. Like the illegal hot dog stand.”

The voice behind the door went silent. He wished he could see her face now more than ever. His own grin slowly slid from his skull.

“Everyone knows about it,” he reassured her. “If the King really wanted to shut me down, he’d have done it a long time ago.”

“Oh, I am not judging you for that. I am sure the law is rigged against you if the King has any say in it.” Her voice was surprisingly bitter.

His real problem was that he couldn’t ever find the necessary documents to get licensed in food preparation. His birth certificate was presumably in whatever alternate dimension his old man had blasted them out of.

“You are judging me for something, though,” he realized. The chill of the snow seeped into his bones, but he didn’t dare adjust his position. Somehow he felt that if he moved, she would disappear.

“I am not. I was only thinking about…” She sighed. “It is complicated. There was a time when I could have helped you, but it is long past.”

“Help me? Look, lady, the ‘dog stand is fine. Promise. Better than fine, since I don’t gotta pay taxes on it.”

She chuckled at that.

“Very well. Forgive a silly old lady for worrying.”

“Done.” He smiled, settling back against the door more comfortably.

He should’ve known she’d have a problem with his illegal activities, though. She was a classy lady, and he was… him. Why had he even brought it up? It wasn’t a great joke. Did he really just want her to know?

Eh, whatever. She wasn’t mad, so no harm done, right?

“I would like to know how you acquired this other chocolate, if it was not through your sticky fingers.” She sounded like she was grinning.

“Huh? Oh.” He blinked and dug out the last chocolate of the bunch. Blue dusted his cheeks. “QC—that’s the lady who runs the shop in town—gave ‘em to me for free. They’re called, uh, kisses.”

QC had a knowing look in her eyes when she’d offered the bag of chocolates to him. It was his own fault for implying they were for a girl. Everyone already thought he screwed around in the woods on his shifts, and with the way gossip travelled in a small town, everyone at Grillby’s would be asking about his girlfriend tonight.

“Kisses,” the lady behind the door echoed. “This is not one of your jokes, is it?”

“Not this time. Sorry to disappoint.” His grin felt too tight. “They’re, uh, tiny chocolates. Kinda cone-shaped? QC makes ‘em herself, so they’ve gotta be good.”

“Oh.” Oddly, the voice did sound disappointed. Sans couldn’t imagine why. Not like he could kiss her through the door, even if he had lips. And even if there was some unlikely timeline where she wanted a kiss from him.

He wanted to thump his skull back against the door, but there was no point in worrying her like that.

“In that case, I will take the kisses. They will be perfect for…”

He was sure she would leave it at that. Cover up with some non sequitur.

So his eyesockets went wide when she said, “for the anniversary of my child’s passing.”

“Oh.” He let out a strangled little laugh. “I—geez, I’m sorry. If I’d known—”

“You would have what? Spent even more money on this silly old lady, who cannot even leave to buy her child’s favorite chocolate?” Her voice was firm. “No. I thought you deserved to know, after the trouble you went to, and because you shared your own secret with me today.”

“My ‘dog stand is hardly a secret,” he said, still feeling a little shaky. She had a kid? A dead kid?

Well, who in the Underground didn’t have skeletons in their closet? Metaphorically or literally. She was still his best friend. If she wanted his pity, she would’ve said something sooner.

“Regardless,” she said. “It is in the past. Forget it, if you wish. But please do not treat me any differently.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sincerely. If there was one thing he was good at, it was maintaining the status quo. “So, uh. These chocolates. I kind of wanted you to have all of ‘em, if that’s alright with you.”

“It would be rude to refuse a gift, would it not?” She sounded like she was smiling again, to his relief.

“There’s just one problem. Uh. Don’t think they’re all gonna fit under the door.” He rapped on the stone surface with his knuckle for emphasis.

“I did not assume they would. The recipe I gave you before hardly passed through.”

Sans blinked. “Then you—huh?”

“I will open the door just a fraction. It can only be done from the inside.” She paused, like she was gathering a breath. “I would ask that you do not look. I promise I will not peek, either.”

Sans’s ribcage tightened. She was going to open the door. She would be right there, with no stone between them.

The thought opened a desperate floodgate within him. He hadn’t realized just how badly he wanted to see her, to know her, to live off of more than just scraps and unfinished sentences.

She once had a child. She had some kind of beef against the King. She wanted to give charity to spiders, but didn’t have enough money. All these facts he filed away, tucking them into the grooves in his ribcage.

It would be enough. He’d duct tape those gates shut again, if he had to. He wasn’t going to betray the trust she’d shown him.

“Got it. You don’t wanna be smitten by my good looks, I understand,” he joked.

(He had a feeling it would be the other way around, if anything. Not that quality of jokes translated to quality of appearance—he would know. If it did, he’d have biceps like his brother.)

“It would be tragic. Much too high a price for you to handsome chocolate to me.”

“Heh, I’m sure you’re a door-able too. But I’ll keep my sockets shut, since our friendship hinges on it.”

That got a raucous laugh out of her, the kind that started off high-pitched and quickly became something of a snorting bleat. That sound was sweeter than chocolate to him.

...Man, his pals at Grilby’s would be right to dunk on him. He was a massive dork.

“Alright,” she said once she caught her breath, “if you are ready, my friend…”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Better choco-late than never, huh?”

That one only got a snort, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the pun fell flat, or because she was nervous. As far as he knew, she hadn’t been outside of the Ruins in years. And here she was, trusting a sentry—someone whose job it was to keep a look out—to turn a blind eye.

It was a good thing he’d never been good at his job.

Stone ground against stone with a dramatic rumble. His eyesockets stayed shut. Warmth emanated from somewhere near his shoulder, and he lifted the bag of chocolates.

His small hand brushed a large fur-covered one. A shiver trailed down his spine. One small touch shouldn’t have done so much to him, but—but she was real. She was more than just a voice behind a door. Which he knew, but knowing and feeling could be worlds apart at times.

She took the bag, and the moment was over. But the door didn’t close.

“My dear friend,” she whispered, her voice sounding closer than ever. “Would it be presumptuous to ask another favor of you?”

“‘Course not. Glad to do a favor for my favor-ite person.” He kept his tone light, unaffected by the swirling emotions inside him.

“If I could… oh, dear, this is embarrassing.”

He resisted the urge to open his eyes, to see what look might be on her face.

“It has simply been so long… may I hold your hand a moment longer?”

He felt the marrow heating within his bones.

“That all? I gotta hand it to ya, you made me think you needed an arm and a leg.”

She chuckled before awkwardly fumbling to grasp his hand again.

Heat poured from her palm into his phalanges. Aside from the fur, there were several spots of soft skin—probably paw pads. Was she a dog monster, like the Canine Unit in town? She didn’t make nearly enough dog jokes for that to be the case. Her laugh sounded more like a goat’s, but she obviously didn’t have hooves. Maybe she was some kind of chimera? You didn’t see those often nowadays, but then again, no one saw monsters from the Ruins, either.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice as soft as the snow that began to drift around him.

“Not disappointed?” He asked, only half-joking. “My hand can’t be as comfy as yours.”

“Ah, but it is all your bone. And that is wonderful to me.”

“Geez, old lady.” He was grateful she couldn’t see his blush. “You’re pretty fur-fect yourself.”

When she laughed, her body shook all the way down to her hand. The feeling more than made up for all the G he’d spent on chocolate and donuts.

Suddenly his hand was being lifted up, and then something soft pressed against his knuckles. His soul flared erratically, and his eyes nearly flew open. If they had, he was sure his left eyelight would have been blue from shock.

“A kiss for a kiss,” she said slyly. “It is only fair.”

“Heh heh…” His voice shook with more than laughter. “Technically, that was one kiss for a bag of kisses. Pretty sure that math doesn’t square up.”

“Oh, you are quite right! One day we will have to circle back and rectify that.”

He practically had to cast gravity magic on himself to keep his eyes from flying open.

“You—huh?” He said intelligently.

“Perhaps not soon,” she clarified. “This has all been… a lot, for me. But thanks to you, my dear friend, this day has not been so bitter as I am used to.”

“Uh, no problem, then. With all that chocolate, I hope it’s sweet.”

Sweet as the anniversary of a death could be, anyway. He grimaced. Maybe that joke was too soon, but she just squeezed his hand before finally letting go.

“I do think it will be,” she said softly. “I will look forward to hearing more of your punny jokes tomorrow.”

The door scraped shut, and he hesitantly opened his eyes. He couldn't help inspecting the door to see if anything changed. Pressing his still-warm hand against the smooth stone.

“Heh. Good luck getting rid of me now.” He grinned.

Then he tucked his hands in his pockets, where her kiss remained like a tattoo on his bone.

#tali writes #safeutdr #soriel #sans #toriel #fic tag #very happy with how this one turned out :D #hope you like it and thanks for the request! #prompt requests

[homoose]

Through the Smoke

Request: could you do spencer x bau reader where they aren't dating yet but they both feel for each other? where both spencer and reader are very closed off people and the whole team knows that. but after one rough case on the flight back, they're both just exhausted mentally and physically and seek comfort in each other. then spend the night at reader's apartment and kiss for the first time there. sorry if this is specific but thank you (:

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst with a happy ending

Warnings/Includes: typical CM stuff, cults, kidnapping, violence, etc.

Word count: 8.1k

Music recs: Through the Fire by Jake Etheridge and Margot Todd; scared by Jeremy Zucker

a/n: anon, I have no idea if this is what you were looking for, but this is where it went. It’s a generous rewrite of 300, substituting the reader for Garcia. Also this blog operates with the understanding that the season 14 jeid arc does not exist lmao. JJ is firmly in the “I love you as a brother” camp and I will not be taking questions at this time. Also, this is a reminder that my requests are open! send me some fresh ideas, head cannons, rambles, whatever! 

———

“Metro PD and the Bureau have been made aware of the Believers and possible activity following their leader’s arrest,” Prentiss confirmed, looking out over the team mingling in the bullpen. “But taking Theo at his word—”

“We only arrested three. There’s probably more out there, but if they follow cult dynamics, they’ll break down on their own without the messiah,” Matt finished.

“Typical cults: you think it’s a cast of thousands when really it’s just four whackos sitting around in the dark,” Tara mused.

Prentiss smiled. “I think we deserve some decompression time, and Rossi’s kind enough to host.”

Rossi leaned over the railing and nodded. “And I have some top shelf wine picked just for the occasion.”

The team started gathering their belongings and heading towards the elevators. Y/N hesitated, looking toward the case file still sitting on her desk. Something about how this had all wrapped up just… didn’t sit right. Her nearly five years with the Critical Incident Response Group had given her an up close view of some of the most prolific cults in American history. She’d studied Jonestown, Waco, Ruby Ridge, Liberty Ranch; new cults emerged onto CIRG’s radar regularly. And there was something about The Believers that just didn’t add up.

Y/N began shuffling things around on her desk, trying to look busy. She caught Spencer and JJ out of the corner of her eye, talking quietly. They ended their conversation with a hug, lingering just a little longer than Y/N would have preferred. She shook her head to try to physically clear the thought from her brain. She knew that Spencer had been through a lifetime’s worth of trauma before she joined the team, and that JJ had been an integral support for him. Y/N was also aware that she had zero grounds to be concerned with any of Spencer’s relationships, romantic or otherwise.

“Y/N, you coming?” JJ asked, walking toward her desk. Spencer headed out of the bullpen and down the hall.

Y/N gave her a half-hearted smile. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a little bit. Just wanted to finish up a couple things here.”

“Well, don’t stay too late.” JJ pressed her lips together for a moment before adding, “Maybe you and Spence could drive together. He said he might not make it, but if he had some company...”

Y/N hoped her immediate flush wasn’t too obvious. After nearly a year in the unit, she finally felt like she had built some solid relationships with the team, and Spencer was no exception. She relished their card games on the jet, the laughs over too-sweet coffee, discussions about books and films and music. But she also adored the way his hair sometimes curled and fell into his eyes, his animated and rambling tangents, the way his hands traced over the tiny print of his books. Most of her adult life had been spent surrounded by men who would gather up her trust in their pitted hands and crush it on a whim. She’d kept her heart behind glass for a long while, but Spencer was slowly chipping away at the fragile panels. She was certain he had no idea that he was even holding the chisel; but just about everyone else seemed to have figured it out. JJ, with her hands clasped together and an eager smile, definitely had. Y/N smiled, too. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“So we’ll see you in a bit?” When Y/N nodded, JJ gave her a warm smile and headed out.

Turning back to the case file, Y/N pressed her fingers to her temple and looked over the documents. Some of the pieces fit together, but the whole case felt littered with gaps and holes. The tale that Theo had woven about The Believers seemed true enough— his parents were simply the suppliers of potential cult members. Although, she still couldn’t figure out the reason for the kidnapping and torture. There were much easier ways to recruit vulnerable people.

She flipped past the pages of written statements and read over the report from the warehouse raid. It was short— the take down of Merva was too easy. Why was he sitting alone in an empty warehouse with only two unarmed, sleeping followers as a defense? Where was the rest of the cult? Matt was correct that most cults fall apart without their leader; unless the loss of a leader was a possibility they’d already prepared for.

The burns on Quinn’s hands didn’t make sense, either. Why use the initiation ritual as a torture device? Shouldn’t that be saved for people who had accepted the invitation? And then there was the one coincidence that nagged at her the most: what were the chances that Theo just happened to be enrolled in Spencer's course? Why did Spencer seem to be at the center of the whole thing?

Y/N sighed as her phone lit up with a message from JJ. She realized she’d been poring over the file for twenty-five minutes, and she had to laugh. As the least experienced profiler on the team, what could she possibly see that the others hadn’t? She closed the case file and quickly packed up, grabbing her jacket and bag and making her way toward the elevator lobby. She paused at the glass doors, retrieving her phone and pulling up Spencer’s contact information. Her thumb hovered over the call button for a long moment before she huffed out a breath. If even JJ hadn’t been able to convince him to go, there was no way she’d be able to change his mind. Despite herself, she glanced down the hall, allowing herself one moment to imagine an alternate timeline where she asked him to come along with her— to Rossi’s, to the moon, anywhere.

With a sigh, Y/N pushed open the glass doors and saw Agent Meadows leading Quinn to the elevator. She pushed down the little red flag in the back of her mind. As she stepped onto the elevator, she smiled politely at the two agents.

“I knew you didn’t do it. I just knew,” Meadows said to Quinn. She turned to Y/N. “And I can’t tell you what a privilege it’s been working with the A-Team on this case.”

Something about the calm in her voice made Y/N uneasy. “Yeah, it’s— um. It’s a great team to be a part of.” Her phone lit up again, this time with a phone call from JJ. “Okay, okay,” she muttered under her breath. Y/N answered the call, half an ear still listening to Meadows speak to Quinn. “Hey, I’m just leaving now.”

“Are you still at the BAU?” JJ demanded, voice low.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. But I’m in the elevator,” Y/N answered.

“Listen, we’re pretty sure Quinn was converted,” JJ told her. Y/N’s heart dropped into her shoes. “I need you to make sure he doesn’t leave that building. We’re coming back now. Where’s Spence?”

Y/N took a breath to try to even out her voice before speaking again. “Mom, we already talked about this. I don’t know.”

JJ paused. “Is Quinn in the elevator with you?”

“Yep.” JJ spoke quietly to someone on the other end of the phone. Y/N watched as the elevator dinged to the floor of the parking garage. “I’m going to have to hang up, mom. I’m gonna lose you, but I’ll try to take care of it tonight, okay?”

“Y/N, we’re on our—” The call dropped as the elevator hit the basement level.

Y/N took a deep breath to steady her voice. “Ugh, lost her.” She glanced at Meadows and Quinn, forced a smile and shrugged. “Elevators, right?”

The elevator doors began to open and Y/N stepped out, surreptitiously reaching for her holster. She had just lifted the strap when she heard the crack of metal hitting bone. Her face hit the concrete before she realized it was her own skull that bore the impact. She watched as her gun skidded across the parking lot floor, the taste of iron flooding her mouth. “Fuck,” she muttered, wincing in pain and scrambling up off the ground as a gunshot went off.

She didn’t feel the impact of the bullet. She looked down at her body, expecting to see a blooming rose of blood. She stared dumbly for a second too long, before remembering that she needed to get to her gun. Her hand instinctively went to her nose as she stumbled forward, coming away wet with blood.

“Stop, Agent Y/L/N.”

She heard the sound of a gun cocking, and then another. She closed her eyes and ran through an internal stream of curses. Raising her hands up, she turned slowly around. An older white man stood to her left, his gun trained on her. Meadows walked slowly towards her, lowering her own weapon. Quinn leaned against the back of the elevator, clutching his abdomen and blood staining the front of his shirt.

“Surprise,” Meadows sang, a sick smile spreading across her face. She stopped in front of Y/N, sweeping her hand in the direction of the man. “Now, John’s going to make sure you don’t do anything stupid. Get in the car.”

Y/N glanced in the direction of the vehicle, a dark sedan, driver armed to the teeth as well. “The team knows something’s up. You won’t make it out of this garage alive.”

Meadows laughed, loud and unhinged. “Oh honey. They’re not looking for lil ol’ me. And they sure as hell won’t be looking for an ambulance.” Her smile returned. “Plus, I already erased 299 murders from the Bureau’s radar. What’s a couple more? Now, shut up... and get in the car.”

Y/N moved to the open car door, keeping her back as straight as possible and her chin up, refusing to show them any cowardice. The barrel of the gun jabbed her in the back as she lowered herself into the vehicle. The door slammed shut, and in a moment, the gun was back on her, the man sitting next to her in the backseat. Y/N waited for the car to pull out, still trying to make sense of it all. Meadows was a Believer? What did she mean by “erased” 299 murders? Why would she blow her cover to shoot Quinn? Did she think that he had figured her out? Or that Y/N had? If that was the case, why not just shoot her? Why wasn’t the car moving?

“Drop your gun, Agent Reid,” Meadows’ muffled voice penetrated the inside of the vehicle. Y/N’s heart began to race. John dug the gun further into her side.

“It’s been you the whole time,” Spencer deduced.

“Yes, it was. Quinn somehow figured it out first. Pity having to shoot him,” Meadows mocked. “But he can’t give me what I want. And you can.”

“What’s that?” Y/N’s brain scrambled to put the pieces together as she listened to the exchange. Spencer was at the heart of it after all. It was right there, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Meadows continued, “You and I are going to go upstairs and free my Messiah.”

“You’re in the heart of the FBI. As soon as the rest of my team figures out it’s you, you’ll be dead before you’re out the door.” Y/N hoped to god that he was right.

“Then we need to work quickly.”

“I’m not going to cooperate with you,” Spencer told her. “Might as well shoot me.” Y/N didn’t even have time to panic before the car shifted into drive.

“I have a better idea.” On Meadows’ cue, the driver squealed out of the parking space and into Spencer’s line of sight. His eyes fell on Y/N, hands nearly pressed against the window, John’s gun pointed at her head. “Now, what’s it gonna be? Because you can either join us, or she dies.”

Y/N tried to radiate her rage through her eyes and screamed, “Reid, just shoot her! Shoot her!” The last thing she saw before the second crack of steel against her skull was the hesitation in Spencer’s eyes.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned at the pounding of her head, the rhythm of her heartbeat throbbing in the space behind her ears. She tried to lift her hand to check for blood, only to strain against the hold of a zip tie attached to the base of the chair. Instead, she surveyed the room around her. A warehouse, lots of shipping containers, and even more men— this time armed with assault rifles and machine guns. One stood at the entrance point of the small area she was being kept in.

She worked through her memory, putting the pieces together. Meadows was a Believer, had been for quite some time to pull all of this off. Quinn wasn’t special, he just got in the way of her real target. Ben Merva might have been the messiah, but Spencer Reid was clearly just as important to whatever mission they were carrying out. Every twisting thread of information somehow traced back to him: Theo in his class, Quinn’s attachment to him, Meadows’ demand that he be the one to free Merva.

“Good, you’re awake.” Meadows strode through the space with a laptop in hand. “I need your handiwork.”

Y/N stared at her. “Is that so?’

Meadows set the laptop on the barrel in front of Y/N and then leaned down to cut the zip tie. “Besides being my collateral for the good doctor, you’re also going to help me access CIRG’s surveillance data.”

“Fuck you.” Y/N spat on Meadows’ shoes. “I’m doing nothing for you.” Her head rolled back, eyes piercing daggers into Meadows. “You should just kill me now, because this is a waste of your time. And I’m sure you know the A-Team isn’t going to waste theirs.”

Meadows narrowed her eyes and gave a theatrical sigh. “I should’ve known you’d make this difficult.” She nodded to John, standing at the entranceway.

Y/N spat again, this time to rid her mouth of the taste of blood. She steeled herself for the next onslaught, compartmentalizing every emotion outside of her fury. Her mind raced to salvage and scrutinize the memories from her time in CIRG, trying desperately to identify what Meadows could be looking for in the surveillance reports. The Believers hadn’t even been on the Bureau’s radar. The reason had to be linked to their interest in Spencer… a piece of information that involved both Spencer Reid and the existing surveillance data. A single grain that could bring the whole damn bushel down.

She heard a scuffle at the entrance of the room and raised her head. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of Spencer, bloodied and bruised. John dragged him into the room, throwing him down onto his knees in front of Y/N. His eyes tracked over her face and clouded over with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“Shit, Reid—”

“I’m fine—I’m sure it looks worse than it is,” he murmured. The concern in his eyes told Y/N she looked about as bad as she felt. “Are you all right?”

“I should’ve seen it. I should’ve known—”

“No,” Spencer interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. We all missed it.”

“What’s the end game here?” Y/N asked. “What’re they doing?”

“I’m going to be their last victim.” Spencer shook his head, barely able to keep himself upright. “I don’t know why, but I overheard them. There have been hundreds.”

Meadows stepped up behind Spencer, grinning at Y/N. “Have you changed your mind? I sure hope you have.” She raised her gun to his head. “Because if you don’t do what I want, I’ll blow his big, beautiful brains out.”

Spencer locked eyes with Y/N. She held his gaze for a moment, then tilted her head slightly as the gears started turning. The tie between Spencer and Benjamin was where it all unraveled. “No, I don’t think you will.”

Meadows’ grin faltered for less than a second, but it was long enough that Y/N knew she was right. “Is that right?” Meadows questioned.

“Yeah, it is.” She furrowed her brow, and Spencer looked at her. “You need him, don’t you? Alive.” Meadows’ tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Y/N was sure. “Because this isn’t just about Benjamin Merva. It’s about Benjamin Cyrus. It’s about Liberty Ranch.”

Meadows held her gaze for five seconds, then ten seconds. Y/N raised her chin, refusing to be the one to blink first. Meadows shifted the trajectory of her gun a foot to her right and fired off one shot. The breeze from the bullet shifted Y/N’s hair.

“You have two minutes to decide,” Meadows advised. The phone in her hand began ringing. “The next one won’t miss.” She answered the phone and stepped out.

Spencer spoke quickly. “Do whatever she’s asking. We have to get you out of here.”

“Reid, are your eyes broken?” Y/N snapped. “There’s a cult loyalist with a machine gun every five feet. You got a plan for that?”

“Listen to me.” His voice was calm, determined. “You’re right about them wanting me alive.”

The frustration bled through Y/N’s voice. “You should have just shot her.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that.”

“You could’ve shot all three of them and ended this in the garage,” Y/N argued.

“And then I would have watched you die,” he said quietly. “That was never even an option.”

“I’m failing to see how that would have been any worse than this. Look at us.” She gestured wildly between them. She watched as the storm of emotion returned, a cyclone swirling in seas of gold and brown. “The team needs you. Spencer, I—” I need you. She reached a hand up, almost touching his face before dropping it back in her lap. He had found the chink in her carefully constructed armor; a fissure he’d fractured a little further with every smile, every look, every moment. All at once she knew she’d never be able to keep him out, no matter how much it might hurt.

“You’ve got one minute,” Meadows barked, hovering over them.

“Y/L/N, listen to me… Please...” Spencer’s voice was thick with tears. “Tell my mom—” The phone rang again, and Meadows stepped away to answer it. Spencer dropped to a whisper. His eyes flashed with urgency. “They’re taking me and Theo. We’ll distract them. The car we were in is right outside the door. We’re 18 minutes from Quantico. Turn left outside the parking lot, take a right at the light, you’ll recognize the rest. They stay off the highways.”

Y/N’s voice was frantic when she asked, “What about you?”

His eyes pleaded with her to respect what he was asking her to do. “I’ll delay them. Get the rest of the team back here. And do not worry about me.” John hauled up him off the floor.

“Time’s up.” Meadows, in a rare display of mercy, allowed them a hug.

Spencer leaned into her and Y/N wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She squeezed as hard as she could and whispered his name. She felt him take a deep breath into her hair, holding it for one impossibly long moment. Just before she released her hold on him, he mumbled, “It’s all happening. 10:23.” John dragged him back out the way they’d came.

“I gave you what you wanted.” Meadows ordered, “Get to it. Now.”

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N worked and waited, then watched and worried. Spencer spoke to Meadows. He was stalling her, offering a deal, boosting her ego, granting Y/N the opportunity to mentally prepare. But no matter how much time he gave her, she would never be prepared to leave him in that warehouse. He met her eyes across the movements of the operation and gave her an imperceptible nod before lunging forward to reach for John’s gun.

Chaos exploded throughout the warehouse. Theo ran in one direction, accosted by half a dozen Believers. Spencer and John tussled over the gun, one fighting for control and the other fighting the inevitable. Y/N sprinted, largely unnoticed, toward the huge sliding doors left slightly ajar. Bursting out into the night air, she immediately spotted one of the black sedans, unbelievably unlocked and with the keys in the ignition. She slammed the door behind her, turned the key, hesitated with her eyes on the door and her mind on Spencer for one moment too long. A single gunshot sounded from inside the warehouse.

Meadows raced out of the doorway, gun drawn. “Stop!” She pointed her gun at Y/N and there was nothing to do but step on the gas. Y/N had her eyes wide open as Meadows bounced off the windshield and onto the asphalt. She didn’t look back.

She drove. Left out of the parking lot. Just a dark, rural road—nothing particularly special or descript. She drove. Right at the stoplight. Then it was, just as Spencer said, familiar terrain. She wondered how it was possible to have seemed so far away— a world away— when it was right under their proverbial nose. She drove.

Her brain navigated of its own volition. Her mind couldn’t have been farther from the inside of the vehicle. She didn’t realize she’d arrived at the Bureau until she was attempting to pull into her usual parking spot, only to be met with her own abandoned car.

She turned the car off, left the keys in the ignition, and nearly floated out into the garage; up the elevator; across the cold floors of the lobby. Her body had walked this same path so many times before; it carried her without hesitation. She could hear the voices of the team, drifting through the open glass doors.

“She accepted their help knowing she would betray the government,” Tara deduced.

“Not every survivor wanted help,” JJ clarified.

Rossi continued, “We ran those who left the ranch and kept their names. A few relocated in rural Maryland and Virginia.”

“They could be helping now,” Luke suggested. “Any of them have large pieces of property?”

“A few,” Emily confirmed. Y/N turned the corner as she continued, “The Washington field office has started searches in Maryland. We’ll take the lead in Virginia.”

As she moved into the doorway, JJ’s eyes went wide and she rushed to Y/N’s side. “Oh my god, are you hurt?” She gently grabbed Y/N by the shoulders.

“It’s a warehouse in Hillcrest,” Y/N said flatly, eyes unfocused. “I can take you there, but we have to hurry. They hurt Reid; he looked— bad. He told me to r-run and take the car, but he’s still there.” Everyone headed for the doors except JJ and Garcia. “They won’t be there long, they have lots of trucks.” Y/N’s eyes locked on JJ, and for the first time since the whole ordeal started, she allowed herself to splinter, just a little. “I heard a gunshot. JJ, I heard a gunshot. I tried—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” JJ nodded, drawing her into a hug. “I know. I know you tr—”

“I left him there.” Her voice broke, but she couldn’t cry. Not yet. “I couldn’t get him. There was no way to save hi—”

“Stop,” JJ ordered, pulling out of the hug. “Y/N, look at me. You got out, you got back to us. If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t even know about the warehouse.”

“What if— what if I got him killed?” Y/N asked.

“You didn’t get anyone killed. Spence knew what he was doing.” JJ’s voice softened. “That’s what he does. He always figures things out before the rest of us. He has a plan and getting you back to Quantico was part of it.” She raised her eyebrows, making sure Y/N was listening. “And now we have to help him by putting the rest of it together.”

Y/N ran a hand over her face. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

Garcia stepped forward and laid a hand on her arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Then we’ll get Reid back.”

They cleaned the blood from her face and hair as best they could in the bathroom sink. JJ patched up the lacerations with steri-strips. Back in the conference room, Garcia insisted she should get screened for a concussion as Y/N rubbed the knot on the back of her head. “There’s no time. Reid said, ‘It’s all happening. 10:23.’”

“But it’s past that,” JJ considered.

“So what did he mean?” Garcia asked.

“Could be a clue here.” Rossi's voice came over the speakerphone from inside the warehouse. “They got sloppy since they left in a hurry.”

“Okay, well you can’t be that far behind them,” JJ insisted.

“I know,” Emily agreed. “But there’s easy access to three major highways, and we don’t know which way they went.”

“Right, but they’re in tractor trailers. That means we can track them through weigh stations.”

“Garcia?” Emily prompted.

“In order to do that, I’d need the transponder identification numbers,” Garcia answered.

“Which we have no way of knowing,” Rossi sighed. “Everything they used was almost definitely forged.”

“We’re going to do another sweep here, and then we’ll head back,” Emily said. “Try to map out the most likely routes they’d use to get out of dodge.”

JJ hung up and looked to Y/N. “What do you remember about the warehouse?”

Y/N pressed her fingers into her temples. “It was full of supplies. They were disguising them, but they had stockpiles of weapons and ammunition; non-perishables and other food items; water. Enough to be off the grid for at least a year.” Y/N leaned back in her chair. “But it wasn’t just about The Believers. I mean, we know they’re a reincarnation of the Separatarian Sect.” She looked at JJ and Garcia. “It was more than that, though. Reid was at the center of everything; he was the target all along. Merva is the messiah, but it somehow all comes back to Spence.”

“Makes sense. They blame him for the downfall of the Sect,” JJ supplied.

“Yeah.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “But—and I can’t—I can’t really explain it, but Meadows really wanted to kill Reid right then. She was— she was irritated, more than anything else.”

“So what stopped her?” Garcia asked.

“That’s what I can’t figure out. She threatened me with it, with ‘blowing his brains out,’ but I— called her bluff. And she was pissed.” Y/N rapped her knuckles on the table. “I mean, really, really furious. Which tells me that, even though she wanted to,  she couldn’t kill him.” She looked between the two of them. “Merva was pulling the strings, and he wouldn’t let her do it there.”

“So it matters where the final sacrifice takes place,” JJ concluded. “We’ve got to figure out where they’re going.”

⧭⧭⧭

They’d been rehashing the details over and over. Liberty Ranch, The Strangler investigation, The Believers, Meadows, Merva, Cyrus, 300 victims, the hyoid bones, all of it. About the only thing they knew for sure was how far the cult could get in the trucks. Spencer could have told them the exact square mileage, but the potential geographical range of the trucks was dauntingly large. Y/N tried not to panic as she stared at the map.

“If this is about a Believer's rebirth, babies are born with 300 bones,” JJ said. “And they’re taking the hyoids.”

“And the hyoids we had in evidence are missing, which means Merva needed them back,” Tara reasoned. “And that means they mean more to the end game than we thought.”

Y/N felt her patience waning. “But why did Reid need us to know it all happens at 10:23?” Y/N hated that her voice sounded snappy and desperate. “That’s got to be important. It’s the last thing he said to me.”

Matt put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen, you’re right. It means something to him. We’re trying to figure it out.”

“Yeah, well, we better figure it out soon.” Y/N shrugged off his hand, pushed back from her seat at the conference room table, and turned for the door. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Every minute they spent floating ideas was another mile between them and Spencer. Another moment closer to losing him. She shoved the bathroom door open, hurrying into the stall and emptying the contents of her stomach.

She slumped back against the side of the stall, head gently knocking into the cool metal. She needed to pull herself together. The team was always strongest when they did their group think sessions, building upon each other’s knowledge and perspectives and filling in the gaps. If they’d done more of that earlier— if she’d had the confidence to call it out as soon as she saw the holes, Spencer might not be locked in the back of a truck, hundreds of miles away.

Y/N hoisted herself off the ground and out of the stall. She braced her hands on the counter top and tried to breathe evenly. She turned on the water and splashed her face, tapping against her cheeks. With water dripping down the planes of her face, she stared herself down in the mirror, willing her tired brain to make that last connection, to find that missing thread. It was all about the Benjamins, and she had a feeling that Cyrus was the key.

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and made her way to the conference room. She listened to their rotating conversation, knowing that this team was the only group of people capable of getting Spencer back alive.

“We have confirmation that there’s been no activity in or around the old ranch,” Matt informed them, pocketing his phone.

“If this is about rebirth, they’ll choose a new place,” Luke posited, arms crossed.

Tara leaned over the table. “Given their adoration of Cyrus and his love for the country, he’d want them to stay within our borders.”

“But Benjamin Cyrus wasn’t his real name, and he wasn’t born into the Sect,” Y/N reminded them quietly. Everyone turned to look at her. She gave an apology grimace to Matt. He just shrugged and smiled, motioning her over to the table.

Garcia nodded. “Right, let’s see. Uh, he and his mom arrived there when he was a teenager. He was kicked out for molesting girls. And then he served time in prison in Kentucky.”

“And that’s where he found religion,” Y/N recalled, thinking back to the report she’d studied dozens of times. “So he was reborn as Benjamin Cyrus in Kentucky.” She closed her eyes and flipped through her mental file cabinet, looking for 10:23.

“That’s within the area,” Garcia confirmed. “Maybe that’s where they’re headed?”

“Find out what city he was born in or where he was in prison,” Luke said. “We’ll spread out from there.”

“He found religion,” Y/N repeated, mostly to herself. “Chapter ten, verse twenty-three. 10:23 isn’t a time.” Y/N shook her head and then dragged her hand through her hair. “It’s scripture.”

“Let’s get in the air; we can narrow down which verse and city before we land,” Emily instructed.

⧭⧭⧭

“We’re approaching Kentucky; the pilot needs to know where to touch down,” Rossi informed them.

The team was scattered throughout the jet, scrolling through scripture on their tablets, reading out verses. Y/N held her chin in her hand, eyes unfocused, dragging a net along the furthest corners of her mind.

“Hey guys, listen to this,” JJ said. “Matthew chapter ten, verse twenty-three: ‘When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another.’”

“They’re going to the next town,” Emily said.

“Flee to the next town. But which one?” asked Garcia.

“Their end game is also a new beginning,” Rossi explained. “Cyrus brought religion back to the cult. They’d honor that by wanting to start fresh.”

Y/N raised her head. “Like the Garden of Eden.”

“That’s how 300 fits,” Tara concluded. “That was the number of angels that protected the Garden of Eden. Are there any Edens in Kentucky?”

The sound of Garcia tapping across the keyboard came through the laptop. “Um, no, but there are two synonyms: Canaan and Arcadia.”

“Cyrus is the original messiah. Which one is closer to where he was born?” Y/N asked.

“Arcadia,” Garcia informed them.

Y/N stood up. “That’s where they’re going.”

“Garcia, pull land deeds. I’ll notify SWAT,” Emily instructed.

JJ grabbed Y/N’s hand. “We’re going to get him.”

Y/N met her eyes. “I just hope we’re not too late.”

⧭⧭⧭

The new compound proved easy to find. In the middle of nowhere but illuminated by hundreds of lights, there were rows and rows of tents. The team began strategizing, looking for the best route to Spencer.

Emily tried to convince Y/N, now showing clear concussion symptoms, to stay with the SUVs.

“With all due respect, there is no way in hell that I’m going to sit in this car while Reid gets sacrificed by a homicidal cult leader,” Y/N said. There was a hushed pause, the team exchanging knowing glances.

“Fair enough,” Emily conceded. “Matt and JJ, I want you on the left side. Luke and Tara, the right. Dave and Y/N, you’re with me. We’re clearing every tent; eliminate any threat that would give away your position.” She unholstered her gun and swept her eyes across the team. “Our objective is to extract Reid with minimal loss.”

As they approached the first line of tents, Y/N could faintly hear Spencer speaking. “To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” Her heart hammered against her ribcage. “A time to be born and a time to die.” She could feel the blood rushing through her ears. “A time to weep and a time to pluck up that which has been planted.”

“Okay, he’s stalling,” Meadows snapped. “That’s enough!”

“All right. Let the sacrifice begin.” That was Merva now, riling up the followers. “Protect us from all harm.”

As Merva led The Believers in a monotone chant, Y/N tried to block it out. She scanned a tent, watched as SWAT took out a bodyguard, looked for Spencer. Rinse and repeat, again and again. It was taking too long.

“And we thank Our Guardian, who will protect this family now and always,” Merva’s voice rang out. “Spencer: keeper of provisions!” Y/N saw the gathering of followers, but she couldn’t see Spencer.

The SWAT commander stopped them. They had reached the final line of tents. He signaled to the leaders on each side. They were ready to strike.

Y/N’s eyes scanned the crowd. She could just barely make out some sort of hanging mobile, white u-shaped decorations suspended from string. The hyoids, she realized, a wave of nausea hitting her like a truck.

Merva continued, “You have given selflessly to others and will be rewarded by the highest honor we could bestow. Your blood will be our blood. Your life will fuel ours.”

A gunshot rang out. The followers gasped. There was a split second of calm before the bedlam. Y/N took a single breath. Then she heard Matt yell; saw John lift his rifle and be felled by a solo shot to the head; watched Luke take down another bodyguard directly after.

And then she saw him. Strapped down under a canopy of bones, Spencer was silent and unmoving. He didn’t struggle. He didn’t call out. And there was Merva, knife in hand— still trying to complete his mission.

She didn’t vacillate, barely breathed, just let her legs carry her forward. She heard Emily call out his name. When Merva turned, the curved blade of the knife poised at the column of Spencer's throat, Y/N’s trigger finger compressed. She felt the gun recoil, felt the force of the shot travel up her arm as she put a single bullet in his chest. As he fell, she didn’t stop, just stepped over him, knew one of the others would take care of it.

She tripped over the small platform Spencer was restrained on, stumbling and holstering her gun. Her hands moved over the straps, loosening the one over his waist, then the ones at his hands, finally pushing the leather from his head. He panted and muttered his thanks, but she didn’t dare speak, afraid that if she did, she’d never be able to stop. Instead, she flung her arms over his shoulders, pulling him down and close and over her heart. She wondered if he could feel the way it pummeled against her chest, because to her it felt like it might smash through at any moment. His arms came around her, chin resting on her shoulder, nose in her hair. She heard him inhale and hold his breath, a mirror of that last moment together in the warehouse. She held onto him as an overboard sailor holds a life ring: single-minded, unrelenting, desperate.

There was a touch on her opposite shoulder and Y/N swung around, adrenaline still racing through her veins. JJ put her hand out in a placating motion, and Y/N came back to herself, allowing JJ to step forward and help Spencer off the platform. Y/N let out a breath and reached a hand out to steady herself, only to flinch when it brushed one of the straps that had held Spencer down. Luke caught her on one side, Tara on the other. She grasped at them, her emotions teetering right along with her physical form. Luke pulled her out from under the macabre canopy and into a hug. Tara held her hand. For the first time since the parking garage, she let herself go.

⧭⧭⧭

The jet was quiet. The team was spread out around the cabin, each of them lost in their own heads. There was a tranquility over the space, one that only ever happened when unmitigated relief overwhelmed even the joy or fulfillment of a life saved.

Y/N sat in one of the single seats, across the aisle from where Spencer was settled. Tara and Luke had finally convinced her to get checked out by the EMTs, who had confirmed her concussion. She convinced herself that the fuzziness on the corners of her vision was just a symptom of that, not a product of the tears she was struggling to hold back.  

The team each stopped by Spencer’s seat, patting his shoulder, squeezing his hand, or in Rossi’s case, gently ruffling his hair. They all spoke briefly in hushed, grateful tones. All except Y/N. She couldn’t formulate a sentence that seemed adequate. There was simultaneously too much and nothing to say. Everything felt contrived or insufficient or intemperate.

Spencer was safe. They hadn’t been too late. He was bruised and undoubtedly sore, but ultimately, he’d been through worse. So why was her heart still aching? Why couldn’t she catch her breath? She hadn’t spoken more than a few words since leaving the raid, so why did her throat feel like it was on fire? She closed her eyes, leaned her head back. She incessantly pressed her hands together, trying to crack her sore knuckles over and over again.

A pair of hands gently closed over her own, stopping the abuse, and she didn’t have to open her eyes to know who they belonged to. His thumbs stroked over the backs of her hands and she cursed the tears that spilled over her bottom lashes. He didn’t say anything, didn’t force her to look at him or acknowledge her shattering. He waited her out, rubbing a rhythm on her skin and steadying her without a word. She opened her eyes but couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet. Instead she focused on their joined hands, reciprocating the gentle pulses he gave every so often.

She turned her head to wipe her wet cheeks on her shoulder as the landing announcement came over the cabin speaker. She did look at him then, and the emotion in his gaze left her feeling raw and exposed. Their hands reluctantly separated to buckle their seat belts. Y/N closed her eyes again, turning her face into the warmth of the early morning sun as the jet began its descent.

When they landed, everyone wearily shuffled off the plane, eager to get home to their beds. Penelope met them at the elevator, enveloping Spencer in a long hug, the rest of the team smiling at their embrace. They each moved through the bullpen, gathering their things and talking quietly. Y/N’s eyes paused on her bag, brought up from the parking garage by one of the team after she’d gone missing. They lingered for a long moment on the case file, still sitting where she’d left it hours ago, before she let herself let it go. She grabbed her bag and turned to see Spencer standing in the aisle, hands in his pockets and eyes fixed on her.

“Hey,” she said dumbly.

He smiled. “Hi.”

Her hands wrung the straps of her bag. “How—how’re you holding up?”

“I’ve been worse.” He shrugged. “How’s your head?”

“I’ve been worse,” she agreed.

“That’s good. Because I think after all that, the least you could do is give me a ride home,” he joked.

Y/N knew he was trying to reassure her that he was fine, but she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. If anything, his attempts to provide comfort made her feel worse. Because she couldn’t forget the sound of the gunshot at the warehouse, the sight of the knife at his throat, the feeling of nearly losing someone whom she knew she could love if she just had more time. Too exhausted to hide her emotions, she could tell by the change in Spencer’s eyes that the pain was apparent on her face.

“Actually, you probably shouldn’t be driving, even if it’s just a mild concussion. Where are your keys?”

“It’s fine. I’m all ri—” Y/N started.

“I know I phrased that as a question, but I’m not really asking.” He held out his hand.

Normally she would have argued, but she just didn’t have the energy. Y/N dug into her bag, fishing out the keys and dropping them into his hand. He closed his fingers around them and jerked his head toward the door. “Come on,” he murmured. He waved to the rest of the team, and Y/N nodded, avoiding their eyes.

The ride in the elevator was silent. The walk to the car, too. They were pulling out of the garage before Spencer finally broke the silence.

“You know this wasn’t your fault, right?” he asked. Y/N stayed quiet. “We all missed the connection to Liberty Ranch.”

“But I knew something was off, and I didn’t say anything. I— I almost came to find you before I left, and if I had just done that—”

“Y/N,” Spencer interrupted. “The plan was already in motion. Meadows and Merva would have just figured out another way to execute it.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “And without you and the leads from the warehouse, the team might not have figured it out in time.”

Y/N opened her mouth before realizing she didn’t have a response. She didn’t even want to consider that possibility. She leaned her head against the window, pressing the thumb and fingers of one hand into her eyes to stave off the throbbing.

Graciously, Spencer let her remain in silence the rest of the ride to her apartment. There was so much to say, especially now; she didn’t know where to begin. And even after everything, she couldn’t stop herself from bringing up that wall— protecting herself from what she knew could hurt her more than any unsub.

They pulled onto her street, fairly empty at such an early hour. Spencer parked in front of her apartment, opening the car door and coming around the other side of the car. She expected him to give her the keys, but as she exited the car, he waited by the gate for her. “I’ll walk you up.”

Spencer opened the gate, allowing her to walk through before closing it behind them and following her up the sidewalk. “I need the keys,” she told him.

He shook his head as if to clear it. “Right, right.” He placed them into her outstretched hand, and she wondered if she imagined his fingers lingering over hers.

When they reached her door, she unlocked the deadbolt and swung the door open, stepping over the threshold. He waited outside, hands in his pockets. Y/N rolled her keys in her hand, and Spencer watched them.

“Um— thank you for—” Y/N started.

“I told Emily on the jet, and I’ll tell you now.” Spencer raised his eyes to meet hers. There was that look again, the one she couldn’t quite identify. “I’ve always had a hard time saying what I feel. And maybe sometimes it’s because I’m afraid of being disappointed. But sometimes it’s because the words I’m looking for don’t exist in the English language.”

“Spence—”

“Please just let me get this out,” he said. “There have been a couple moments over the past few months where I thought maybe we were sharing mamihlapinatapei.”

“Mamih what?” Y/N asked.

“Mamihlapinatapei.” He repeated, gesturing with his hands. “It’s a Yagan word that originates on the Tierra del Fuego archipelago off the southern tip of Argentina. It translates succinctly as ‘the wordless, meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to do so.’”

“Oh.” Y/N felt a flush rising up in her cheeks.

Suddenly, Spencer couldn’t meet her eyes. “I, um—I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize our friendship or make things awkward at work. But last night, I… I just— I’ve had too many moments in my life where I thought it might be my last, and I hadn’t said all the things I needed to say.” He met her eyes again, and there was that familiar storm. “Last night I was out of time, and I hadn’t told you how I feel, and I realized that I wouldn’t get another chance, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I needed to—”

Y/N stepped forward, grabbed the front of his shirt, and crashed their mouths together. She tried to pour everything into the kiss: every blush, every worry, every laugh, every panicked moment, every mamihlapinatapei. Spencer cradled her face in his hands, opening his mouth and capturing her bottom lip, accepting everything she gave him. She wound one of her hands into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer and grounding herself to this new reality that almost wasn’t. The height of the kiss tapered off, and Y/N drew back, untangling her fingers from his hair and her heart from his grasp. Spencer watched her carefully, honey eyes uncertain.

“I do. Feel the same,” Y/N confirmed. Spencer’s lips twitched. “I’m not good at vulnerability. I’ve got a great track record of getting hurt.” Spencer grabbed her hand and opened his mouth, but Y/N continued, “But then I thought we might lose you, that time was out, and that I— I wouldn’t get the chance to see if you could be— if this could be more.” She gestured between them and then met his eyes again. “And I guess being vulnerable isn’t so bad in comparison. Because I think I could fall in love with you. I think maybe it’s already happening.” She held her breath and pressed her lips together, fighting the regret of saying too much.  

“Actually, there’s a word for that, too.” Spencer smiled, warm and soft and genuine. “Forelsket. The origin is Norwegian, and it roughly translates to ‘the euphoria experienced as you begin to fall in love.’”

“Forelsket?” Y/N asked.

“Well, it’s more like forelsket,” Spencer corrected.

“Wow, okay, 187.” Y/N laughed for the first time in what felt like days. “Forelsket.”

“Better,” Spencer praised. “There’s also the Tagalog version, kilig.”

Y/N took a step closer to him and smoothed his shirt where her hands had wrinkled it. “Translation?”

“‘The sudden feeling of an inexplicable joy one gets when something romantic happens,’ or alternatively ‘the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.’” Spencer moved his hand to her waist and stepped over the threshold.

Y/N cupped his cheek in her hand, soothing the bruises and guiding him back to her. “Yeah. Sounds about right.”

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds #homoose writes

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Post-Finale Fanfiction (Angst, Rated Teen) Part 1 of 2

SPOILER ALERT.

It's probably just the alcohol, but the beats of the music are starting to sound a little bit like a marching drum that's announcing war. She can feel herself dancing along to it, but her whole body is on alert, ready to switch to fight and flight any second.

"So, cool place huh?" The bloke in the leather jacket asks.

She tries to remember his name. Jeff something. Or maybe Jed. No, not Jed, she's thinking of Star Wars again. That's what happens when you binge watch a multiverse of movies in a single day.

Oh, yeah, that's right. She broke the multiverse.

Another shot of tequila, and she takes not-Jed's hand in hers. It doesn't feel right, at least not the way-

No.

She realises he asked her a question, but she can't remember what, and she just laughs, because that always works.

Encouraged, he leans in close and whispers into her ears. "How about we get out of here?"

"And go where, exactly?" She asks, but she's not sure he understands, not with how slurred the words come out.

She laughs again, and this time, it's bitter. This time, she's laughing at how this is so him, this getting drunk in the face of imminent danger and making a mess of things.

(But I'm not you.)

---

She's frozen in her place the second the glowing yellow door appears. But it's not for her, at least not this time.

She hasn't been on the run for a while. Doesn't need to be. Because even though she is the one who unleashed the chaos, it's the chaos that needs to be contained immediately. She's low on the list of priorities.

The TVA will come for her. But not right now.

---

It's extremely easy pretending to be a psychic. All she has to do is take her client's hands and enchant him, find a memory, describe it back to him.

Sometimes she does it just for fun, just to see the look of amazement on their faces.

Other times, she does it for the money she needs to survive.

"And I see a blonde woman. Very beautiful."

"That's my wife."

The way he smiles, loving and proud, makes her heart drop.

"What do you see in her future? Is she happy? Does she get the job at the magazine?"

There is definitely at least one timeline where she does get the job, but The Enchantress cannot exactly tell if it's this one. She can't actually see the future, after all.

She sees the colors drain from his face as her silence swallows the room. "She's going to be okay, right? I just want her to be okay."

(I just want you to be okay.)

There's that bitter laugh again, because-

No. She can't do this right now.

"She loves you very much", she whispers, to the man in front of her, and to the man who is not there to hear those words.

---

Mobius finds her in the middle of a concert by a Nirvana where Kurt Cobain never died. She can easily slip away, disappear into the screaming, writhing crowd if she wants.

Or she can just take him some place quiet and hear him out.

"Help us", Mobius pleads. He sounds exhausted, and not just physically. "We're outnumbered and outwitted. Our world is in danger."

"This isn't my world", she reminds him.

"Yet, you're here", he retorts.

Her smile is pained. "Where else will I go?"

He is sympathetic, like he always has been. And he offers her a new glorious purpose. "Come with me. We need you. He needs you."

She feels the air find its way out of her lungs the same way she pushed him out of her life- painfully, forcefully. "H-how is he?"

"He's okay... all things considered."

Now there's a cocktail of relief and disappointment that will give her months of sleepless nights.

"Tell him I'm-" she starts, but she doesn't know how to finish that sentence. What can she tell him? That she's sorry for not trusting him when she should have? That she's sorry for making the universes collide?

That she's sorry for betraying him and breaking his heart?

(How will I know you won't betray me at the end?)

"Nevermind."

---

It's been really hard facing the consequences of her actions, watching the timelines bleed into each other and destroy people's lives- families torn, achievements gone, every little anomaly delving into death and destruction. Every headline on the newspaper is her fault, and she has to live with that.

But that seems so easy compared to this moment where she has to face him.

The plan was to send him away, kill He Who Remains, give people their free will back, save the world, then come back to him. Yeah, he'd be mad at her at first, sure, but he'd forgive her eventually, she was confident.

Then the timelines started to branch the minute she stuck the dagger in that terrifying man's chest, and she knew she had screwed up.

She had sunk to the ground in defeat as the realisation of the repercussions hit her, and she did what she has always done- run.

She didn't even realise she had sent him to the wrong universe until she teleported herself into another universe as well. The journey back was long and lonely, but she dreamt of him in colors while the world was bleeding red, and that was enough to keep her going.

She doesn't really know what she'll do when she sees him again. Neither does she know what reaction she expects from him. Nothing he can say to her can be worse than what she thinks of herself.

A part of her hopes he would be overwhelmingly happy, he would come running to her, just like he did at The Void, greet her with the smile that has won a hundred hearts- including hers, and tell her everything will be alright. Another part of her fears that he would be furious, and he would confront her with accusations of unleashing havoc on all worlds- especially his.

What she never expected is this eerie calm that makes her feel like she is standing in the storm center.

His walls are up.

And it causes her to redirect the anger she feels at herself towards him. There's venom in her voice. "So you do get to rule, after all."

"I don't feel much like a king." He shrugs. "I'm more of a multiversal janitor. Mopping up multiversal messes."

"My messes."

"Our messes." He corrects, his features softening around the edges. "We made a mistake." He has been saying that ever since he found himself in the alternate TVA, and that hasn't changed even after getting back to his own version of the bureau. Always "we", never "she". He simply cannot bring himself to blame her without taking accountability for his part in the mess.

"Don't patronize me." Her hands are shaking, just like her voice, a sharp contrast to his steady silhouette, and can he just hold her, please? "I don't need you to take the fall for me."

His eyes go cold, like they were forged in the heart of Jotunheim. "Of course not", he says, fully composed. "You don't need me for anything. It's not like we're in this together."

(Maybe we can figure it out-together.)

---

She now knows her walls don't- can't- keep the hurt out- it just keeps her locked inside this cage of distrust and insecurities. And the price she has to pay for it is too high.

They could have been lying on a beach somewhere, sipping mimosas right now. Instead, they're here, in the vast, silent library of the TVA, sitting on separate tables, reading files on variants.

The only thing worse than bearing the weight of his gaze is having him stare at his files without looking in her direction even once. She can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry." She suddenly blurts out.

He looks up, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm sorry for what I did." She repeats. It's difficult to start an apology, but once she finds the strength to begin, the rest of it flows automatically. "I'm sorry I messed up everything. I'm sorry I broke the timelines. I'm sorry the world is in danger." She takes in a deep breath. "And I'm sorry I betrayed you."

His smile is the saddest kind. "A Loki betraying a Loki. That's the least surprising thing in the world. What's shocking is how I didn't see it coming. You really had me going with that kiss. Very nice distraction. Very Loki."

Free will comes with the fine-print of living with the consequences of your choices. And she has to live with hers every day. The tears finally spill out of her eyes. She hasn't let herself cry for a long, long time. But now she's breaking down worse than the multiverse. "I didn't do it to distract you. I did it to say goodbye."

He gets up, and she panics that he's leaving. Instead, he sits down in front of her, reaches for her hand, but changes his mind mid-way and lets them fall to his side. "You didn't have to say goodbye."

"It's all I've ever known." She feels like that scared little girl, far from home, running from minute men, with nobody to turn to but herself. "I told you, I don't have anyone."

"You had me."

That's the saddest part of it all, isn't it? Everything else in her life is the TVA's fault. She's torn from Asgard? Hasn't seen her parents in years? Can't remember her brother Thor? Spent her whole childhood running and hiding? All TVA.

But this? This is all her own doing. This is the one time she had something real, something worth holding onto, someone worth fighting against the world for. Instead, she questioned his intentions, didn't hold on, fought him and ruined everything.

"I didn't want to rule, Sylvie", he finally tells her. "I wanted you."

She has dreamed of this moment when he tells her how he feels. They have come so close to it so many times, the words dangling off the edge of his tongue but never quite finding their way out. She has always known- every word, every action pointed to it. But it was so hard to imagine someone could love her.

It's so hard to imagine someone can love her again. The past tense in his wording terrifies her worse than any danger ever could. "Is it too late to fix things?"

His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "We are fixing things. That's why we are here. Saving the universe."

"You know what I mean."

"I don't know how to trust you again, Sylvie." He tells her point blank- no deception, no lies, no Loki-ism. "And you never trusted me to begin with."

That's not entirely true. She trusts him more than she has trusted anyone. "I really thought I was doing the right thing."

"I know."

(Not to be dramatic, but yeah, we're saving the universe.)

---

The Avengers are much nicer than Loki described them, considering they don't kill her for what she has done, instead tell her about their own journeys towards redemption. Wanda tells her about the man she has loved and lost, and the pain she has caused to an entire town. Barnes talks about his past as a brainwashed assassin. Clint tells her the story of Natasha and how she took charge and changed her life.

Thor is the kindest of them all. He talks about how far Loki himself has come. He tells her stories of his version of Asgard, the nine realms, the glorious battles, the beauty of earth.

She still dreams of death, but sometimes she doesn't.

Sometimes, she hopes.

---

(To be continued)

#loki x sylvie #fanfiction #sylvie x loki #loki fanfic #loki #sylvie laufeydottir #sylki fanfic #sylki

[mxndoscyarika]

Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice (Sam Wilson x fem!Reader) | Chapter 2: Apple Pie

Summary: Being best friends with Sarah Wilson was simultaneously the easiest and hardest thing you’ve ever experienced. You felt at home with the Wilsons, and helped raise Sarah’s children after her divorce and the Snap. But harboring feelings for her brother, Sam, and not being able to do anything about it hurt more than it should. When he comes back home between leads on Karli Morgenthau, with Bucky in tow, you can’t help but feel a spark of hope.

Ao3

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice masterlist

Author’s note: It’s been a bit of a wait, but it’s here! I love writing the reader and Sam’s dynamic, and how they fit together so well. Just one more chapter to go after this one, and their story will be complete 🥺 Enjoy!

Warnings: food, mutual pining, smut (semi-public, unprotected) - 18+ ONLY

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Sunlight streamed through the windows, golden beams striping across the counter where you and Sam stood, preparing apples for a pie. You had wanted to try out a new pie crust recipe, and had picked up more apples than you’d intended at the farmer’s market. It was funny how life worked out like that sometimes, like the universe was telling you to do what you love.

Sam’s arm brushed against yours as he placed a peeled apple onto your cutting board, the touch sending electricity up your arm. You weren’t sure why he was standing so close when there was plenty of space, but you didn’t want to complain. After all, this was the closest you’d ever get to being with him. Even if it had to end, you couldn’t help but imagine an alternate timeline where you and he were baking together because you loved each other.

“Those apples are gonna cook if you keep staring that hard,” Sam teased, bringing you out of your reverie. “What are you thinking about?”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the heat rushing to your face. “Nothing important.”

“It didn’t seem like it was nothing important,” he said softly, glancing at you. His breath caught as the light graced your face just right, highlighting your features with gold. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded, adding the sliced apples to a bowl. There was something you wished you could tell him, but it wasn’t just anything. It could ruin everything. “I know.”

With Sam and Bucky around, it was getting harder to hide your feelings. You knew that, Sarah knew that, and maybe even Bucky knew. Bucky was sweet, a gentleman at his core. He knew how to flirt around, but you weren’t quite enamored enough to fall for him. The man beside you was your perfect match, or so you hoped.

The sound of footsteps approached from behind.

“Whatcha making there, sweetheart?” Bucky asked, leaning into the small space between you and Sam. His broad frame nudged Sam out of the way, making the other man frown. “Anything I can help with?”

“No,” Sam said bluntly.

“We’re just making an apple pie for later tonight,” you answered, giving him a small smile. But as much as you liked the warm feeling of being close to another person, you already missed Sam. “And no, Sam and I should be able to get everything done ourselves. It’s just a couple more steps and then we’ll bake it.”

Bucky hummed in understanding, walking around to your other side, which allowed Sam to begrudgingly settle back next to you. “Are you sure? I’m pretty good with my hands…”

You let out a huff of laughter, shaking your head. “I’m sure you are, but we have everything under control here. Besides, you’re a guest.”

At last, Bucky relented and backed away, watching Sam amusedly. “Don’t have too much fun without me, kids.”

When Sam sighed in relief,  you looked over. “You alright, Sam?”

He chuckled softly, bracing his arms on the counter. “Yeah, I just find it funny how the abominable snowman comes to Louisiana and woos all the women in my life. I should’ve known that was gonna happen.”

Although he had a fond smile on his face, the spark was missing from his voice. He sounded almost sad.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite.”

Sam froze, dumbfounded. But then, beaming, he turned and pulled you into a tight hug. His strong arms wrapped around you and held you close as he swayed back and forth, laughing softly with you. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms tightly around his waist, resting your cheek against his chest. “I better be your favorite,” he teased. You thought you felt a gentle pressure against your temple, but you were too caught up in his scent of seawater and oranges to care. “I knew you first.”

---

“Sam?” you called, stepping onto the boat. In your hands was a tupperware with a slice of pie, the ice cream half melted and pooling at the bottom. After helping out, he’d gone to the docks to keep working on the family boat; he’d mentioned something about the engine needing to be fixed. So, you figured that you’d surprise him with his favorite dessert.

“Over here!” he replied, coming back up to meet you. The sleeves of his shirt were pushed up to his elbows, drawing your eyes to his muscular forearms and strong hands. “What do you have there?”

It took you a moment to realize that he asked you a question, making heat rush to your face. “Dessert. Well, a snack for you. You’ve been working all evening, so I wanted to make sure you had something to eat.”

You settled in the cockpit of the boat, basking in the familiar room.

“Okay, miss fairy god-baker,” he said, sitting down next to you. “Why don’t you take the first bite? You deserve it, of all people.”

Knowing he wouldn’t relent until you took a bite, you scooped up some of the crust, soft apples, and ice cream and slipped the fork into your mouth. The pie was still slightly warm, the apples spiced with cinnamon and a hint of molasses from the brown sugar and the ice cream cool and light on your tongue. The crust was just right, not too crumbly and not too sweet. You hummed in satisfaction, smiling sheepishly as you realized you’d just made a sound.

“How is it, baby?”

“It’s sweet,” you answered, assembling a bite for him. “Do you want to try some?”

You didn’t pay much attention to his low hum of affirmation until you glanced at him and saw he was watching you with a small smile.

The next few seconds were a blur as he leaned in and kissed you, lips melding against yours.

He tasted sweet, and you couldn’t help but set down the container so you could scoot closer. A shiver ran down your spine as his arms wrapped around your waist and held you. The warmth from his body surrounded you, bringing with it a peacefulness that you never knew you missed. It felt...right. Like your missing puzzle piece had finally clicked into place. Like you had found your home.

When you finally parted for air, Sam let out a chuckle. “You’re right. You’re very sweet.”

“I-I don’t understand-”

“It’s you,” he murmured, cupping your cheeks and kissing you sweetly. “It’s always been you. I’m tired of waiting and doubting myself. Doubting us.”

“I’ve wanted this for a very long time, Sam,” you began, your words soft between the kisses. “I’ve wanted you for a very long time.”

You often wondered what your life would’ve been like if you’d faced your feelings earlier. Would you be married? Would you and Sam have had a family? So much time had passed, it wasn’t hard to imagine the different ways your life could’ve gone.

A wave of anxiety washed over you. What if he didn’t really want you? What if you were just a distraction from his work? Part of you screamed to control yourself and consider the consequences, but another part of you told you to give it a chance. After all, it was Sam; he cared deeply and saw the best in everything. Maybe you could do the same, for once.

You had waited long enough. He had waited long enough.

“I want you too, honey,” he said, hands slipping down to guide your hips towards him. “Come up, baby.”

Your face burned as you realized what he wanted, but you couldn’t help shuffling closer. There was no doubt that he was strong; years of physical training had done him well. But nonetheless, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “I-I don’t want to squish you-”

“You won’t, baby,” he replied, groaning as you kissed him deeply. “I want you on top of me. Let me hold you...please.”

Unable to resist, you climbed onto his lap. Your arms went around his neck so you wouldn’t slide off; not that you were going to. Sam’s hands rested respectfully on your waist, pressing gently to keep you close. You never quite realized how big they were until then; those were the same hands that tickled you back in high school, held yours during dances, and saved the world.

His lips were as soft as you imagined, the years of holding out and waiting poured into each movement. Your hips involuntarily started shifting against him, making him groan softly. A soft laugh escaped your lips as he encouraged your movements. It wasn’t long until you felt him pressed against your core. Though, you’d have been lying if you said you weren’t affected yourself. Every movement stoked the flame in your lower belly, reminding you of just how long you’d been dreaming for this moment.

“I need you,” you gasped, shuddering as his lips trailed down your neck. “Sam…”

“I know, baby,” he soothed, his fingers tracing the top of your pants. “I need you, too. Do you want this? I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you answered, tugging at his hands so he would take them off faster. “I want you inside me. I want to feel you.”

“I want you, too,” he said, his voice like velvet. “I’ve dreamt of you for so long.”

You were glad there was no one around as you stepped out of your pants and pulled off your shirt and bra. The change in temperature made you shiver, along with the sight of Sam undressing himself.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mused, watching with hooded eyes as you straddled his hips. Your hips fit against his perfectly, nestled against him. Without the barrier of clothing, you could feel everything, from his soft skin to his rippling muscles. The only way that it could’ve been better was if he was inside of you.

You reached down and stroked his length slowly, rubbing your thumb across the tip. A soft laugh left your lips as he gasped your name and bucked his hips into your hand, clear fluid beading at the tip. If you weren’t on a boat, you would’ve taken more time to taste him. But that could be saved for later, when you and Sam were home.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, leaning in for a kiss. Once you felt his lips against yours, you knew you were done for. No one could take you away from him. “Are you ready?”

“I think a better question is, are you ready?” he mused, slipping his hand down to rub slow circles on your bundle of nerves. A smirk appeared on his face as he found you slick and pliant, the tips of his fingers shining with your arousal. “Next time, I’m gonna make it up to you. We have years to make up for, babe.”

A gasp left your lips as the head of his cock slipped into you; it was thicker than you’d expected. You could tell he was going to fill you perfectly, grinding against all the areas that made you moan.

The touch of his thumb against your clit made sliding down on him easier, each flutter of your walls letting him go deeper. By the time he was seated fully inside you, you were a mess. Your breaths were shallow and your hands roamed his chest.

Your breath caught in your throat as you started moving, lifting your hips before sinking back down.

Sam couldn’t seem to get enough of you, his hands roaming your body and squeezing and caressing until you felt like you were going to combust.

“Sam, please,” you moaned, bouncing on his cock. Every time you sank down, he ground against that sensitive area inside you. You dripped down his length as you slowly lost control, your arousal collecting at the base until it looked like he was leaking out of you.

You moved against each other with an indulgent drag, as if everything was going to turn to dust again. The life you shared was a gift, one that you no longer wanted to waste. You wanted to spend the rest of your years with him, wanted to have his children. Just the thought of him filling you made you clench so tightly that you had to stop, hovering on the precipice of ecstasy.

As you sank back down, you were pushed over the edge.

Sam’s name left your lips as you came, swirling your hips for more friction. Beneath you, Sam reached his peak as well, pulling you down so he stayed buried deep inside. Hot ropes of his seed painted your walls, filling you with a warmth that you’d never felt before.

He kissed your neck as you both shuddered in each other’s arms.

Eventually the sharp burn of pleasure settled into a soothing glow, as if everything was right in the world. You stayed on top of him for a few minutes, savoring his warmth and the fullness inside you. Soft murmurs of his name left your lips as Sam kissed down your neck and mouthed at your tits. “Sam, baby…”

“You’re so amazing,” he said, voice soft. Trailing kisses back up until he reached your lips, he murmured, “I love you so much.”

Those three words made your heart skip a beat. You never thought you’d get to hear those words, much less say them in return. They were always a late night fantasy, a makeshift reality that you could fall asleep to.

You no longer needed to fantasize.

Tears pricked at your eyes. “I love you, too. I have for a very long time.” You kissed your boyfriend deeply, committing his touch to memory. “Let’s go home.”

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#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #Sam Wilson imagine #the falcon x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #Sugar Spice and Everything Nice #my writing

[the-beskar-alchemist]

Bucky x reader imagines that live rent-free in my head (I'm not a writer, but I really needed to get these off my chest)

I'm typically Mandalorian-centric, so if you prefer to avoid this little tangent of mine I have added a cut for your convenience.

My ADHD has me daydreaming CONSTANTLY, so if you're reading this than you don't mind tumbling down the rabbit hole with me...

1) Chubby!Baker!Bucky x Coyote Ugly!Reader - Reader has a meet-cute with Bucky at his bakery right after it opens one morning. A case of PMS leads reader to the only bakery with a dessert that will help her feel better. Reader is a bartender at the infamous Coyote Ugly in New York, fluffy romance ensues, reader stops by every morning at the bakery to visit Bucky before the bakery opens, and sometimes he'll even wake up in time to drive/walk her home after her shift.

2) Fullmetal Alchemist - Bucky is insecure about his arm, so he tries to avoid letting reader see it. Reader is an anime fan and LOVES the series Fullmetal Alchemist, so they decide the best way to show Bucky how cool his arm is would be to introduce him to their favorite cyborg character: Edward Elric. Fluff ensues, Bucky jokingly refers to reader as his "Winry".

3) Supernatural/FaTWS - During one of his therapy sessions, Bucky can't help but notice that Dr. Raynor has a new piece of artwork hanging on the wall across from the couch. It's a strange symbol that seems a little cultish, but Raynor brushes it off as something she found to "add variety" to the room. Later another super soldier is spotted wreaking havoc on New York.....a soldier with long dark hair....black clothes...and a silver arm. Some dark themes. (The symbol in question is a tulpa, when Bucky concentrates on his past life as the WS, while staring the painting, he inevitably brings the "character" to life).

4) Bones/FaTWS - Reader is sick of how Dr. Raynor speaks to Bucky, and asks if it's possible for him to get a different therapist, one with better experience in handling a veteran. They enlist the help of former colleague Special Agent Seeley Booth to help convince his former therapist, Dr. Gordon Wyatt, to accept the position. Booth also provides some wisdom on how to live with  red ledger as a former sniper, as well as having connections with the assassination of a president. Definitely some angst.

5) Law and Order SVU/FaTWS - Similar to the Bones crossover, except reader's former colleague is Dr. George Huang, a forensic psychiatrist and criminal profiler for SVU. Can Olivia Benson and Dr. Huang help heal Bucky in the way that he truly needs as a special victim himself?

6) The Mortal Instruments/Post-Endgame/Pre-FaTWS - Steve isn't actually dead, but fakes it in order to go into hiding so that he can finally "retire" in peace, but still stay in his regular timeline. The only people that know of this are reader and the people of Idris, Shadowhunters, who have agreed to give the great Captain solace in exchange for his services in helping to protect the sacred country. Because of Idris' supernatural protection, both divine and otherwise, Idris is undetectable by even Wakanda-standards, making it the perfect place to hide. Until Bucky finds out the truth, and demands reader take him there. Can he forgive Steve? And why was the Captain so desperate to run away from his best friend? AAAAAANGST.

7) Doctor Sleep/FaTWS - Reader is gifted with the "shining", and tries so hard to avoid accidentally side-stepping into other people's heads, but sometimes their efforts are futile. Reader accidentally side-steps into Bucky's head, and he hates the idea of yet another person messing around in there. He avoids reader as much as possible, but they're neighbors so they still encounter each other in the apartment building. One night Bucky has a nightmare, and reader can't help but sense it with the "shining", immediately racing to help. Angst for sure.

8) The Matrix/(whichever movie you choose honestly, they could all work)....-  Instead of Agent Smith spreading like a virus, it was Hydra that attempted to overthrow the virtual world of the Matrix, and overpower the Machines. Steve is the "One" the free-minded have been searching for, he is freed from the alternate reality, but Bucky remains behind. Bucky's "infected" by Hydra, his programming is rewritten to become the Winter Soldier. Can Steve help free Bucky's mind from Hydra's control? Or will Hydra take over and destroy Zion for good?

9) Gilmore Girls/Chubby!Baker!Bucky x Reader - Reader moved to New York from Stars Hollow a few years back, but will occasionally go back for a visit to see their favorite Inn owners Lorelei and Sookie. Reader gushes about Sookies cooking and baked goods.......and a slightly jealous Bucky is a little miffed that his Cupcake/Peaches (you pick) enjoys someone else's baking besides his own.

10) Treasure Planet with Pirate!Bucky - Captain Steve Rogers is a respectable sailor who becomes an unfortunate pawn in a scheme to steal a spherical map that leads to the legendary Treasure Planet......and Pirate!Bucky will do anything to get his hands on some of the riches.

11) Conventions with FaTWS!Bucky - Reader convinces her grumpy boyfriend to let loose and enjoy a comic book/anime convention. Bucky thinks it's silly at first, but he can't help his fanboy side when he sees some people cosplaying as his favorite characters. There's also the dealer's rooms where he discovers the feeling of buying things he likes just because, realizing how much he missed choosing things for himself. Bonus points if Reader cosplays as one of his favorite characters.

That's all I have for now.....I may fuck around and add more later lol

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #i'm stuck in my own head #send help

[nincompoopydoo]

DEBRIS AND MISERY

DOUBT MAKES THE STRONG WEAK ; PART 8 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.5k SUMMARY: From concussions to destruction, you find yourself developing an odd trust in the last two people you would even begin to have faith in and when the apocalypse seems unavoidable, you discover that there may be more to the mystery of the universe. A/N: Well, this chapter is long. And mainly pertains around the theme of 'doubt'. A lot more of Sylvie stuff and Loki just having heart eyes the whole time. I love this chapter and I can’t wait to write more as the story ends. Please tell me what you love, hate, anything (maybe theories lol). Thank you for showing so much love. gif from this gifset by @kamalaskhans WARNINGS: Swearing. Apocalypse. Injuries. Blood. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

You were once a fighter.

Hunter E-87 was the name you once knew, hollered through different fields and dimensions in time and space. You fought for what you thought was right, pledging allegiance to a cosmic establishment that held all power to a single timeline and never questioned the works of the Time-Keepers. The Sacred Timeline is indeed sacrosanct, too important, too valuable to interfere. You fight in the name of the single thread of time, the bark of a tree, forbidden to bare branches of a potential multiverse. You fight because the thought of alternate timelines used to scare you. Yet, if alternate universes were meant to be, the lives you took and destroyed are now in the grasp of your bloody hands. You hold the responsibility of the death of the innocent, taking part in mass genocide.

But promises must be kept.

The thought constantly haunts you in your sleep. You have dreams of death, war, destruction, and famine from across the universe. People seem to glide like specters in the world built by your imagination and mind. You have seen a lot, more than any being in the universe should, but no one talks about the aftermath of witnessing the tragedy of the universe as time goes on and on. No one talks about what it does to the mind. Music from cassettes and the wonder of human space exploration were distractions to cope with the grinding hole in you and the fact you might be turning truly crazy.

Sometimes, you would like to be human—Fewer problems and less time to live.

You blame the sickening and bizarre vivid images that come and go whenever you close your eyes as a symptom of being a hunter. The others are stronger than you. Well, they act like they are. Becoming an analyst made you sleep better but there was always doubt. Sakaar made you doubt.

Doubt makes the strong weak. Doubt makes you weak.

“You startin’ to have doubts?”

Green eyes. They watch you with curiosity with a hint of amusement. You hear yourself hum. “Would it be bad if I said yes?”

He laughs. It’s mighty. “Yeah. Definitely bad.”

A beat of silence. You feel your eyes start to sting. “I couldn’t even tell my mom.” A laugh escapes your lips despite the hurt you feel in your chest. “Did you tell anyone? Your wife?”

You see him now, blonde hair slicked back and deep-set eyes. He shakes his head. “Nope. Not even my wife.”

“She’ll be proud, you know.”

“I know...So will your mom. Jesus, you’re gonna be the first woman on—”

Wake up.

“—Is she dead?”

The voice is familiar. It pulls you back to reality but right now, your eyes are too heavy. Doubt is the first emotion that waves through your brain before the process of pain can even occur—uncertain if you are dead or alive.

You can’t feel your limbs, they are too weak.

Doubt makes the strong weak. Doubt makes you weak.

Maybe, you are dead.

“This is your fault! You’re the one who swung that sword of yours to her head! You’re careless—”

Sword...Sword...Careless? You remember a train, a fight.

“Oh, I’m the one who’s careless? You’re the one who’s drunk!”

Drunk...Who was drunk?

Then, your voice echoes in your head, images of a certain brunette with a deep frown. He called you a mewling quim. You quoted Hávamál. You then left him and wandered through the other cabins of the train. He blew his cover. He got you into a fight.

Loki. Loki Laufeyson.

Son of a bitch.

Your eyes are wide open now. All you see are the faces of Loki and Sylvie, looming over you. Just two floating heads. Then, the pain arrives, coursing through the entire back of your head. You wince in immediate reaction and the floating heads turn to you in an instant.

What a way to wake up from a concussion.

You remember everything now, but you certainly don’t recall being on the outside of the train. Must have gotten thrown out. The thought angers you, irritation practically boiling to the brim. Yet, it’s your fault. You hadn't thought to babysit the very person you wish were dead. As your palm grips onto the dirt beneath, muscling all strength left to lift yourself. Your head feels light and heavy all at once. Not good.

“Are you alright?” is the question that flies from Loki’s lips, tinged with an emotion you never knew he had for another but himself—worry. Whether selfless or selfish, you wish to ignore the complexity of Loki’s reactions and possible change in character, especially towards you. Ever since you stepped foot on Lamentis, all you felt was pain. You have never been injured so much within the last few hours than in your entire life and weirdly, you feel fine.

Sylvie is quick to stand, watching the two of you work in tandem. His grip finds the curve of your shoulders as you stick your hand out to grip him by the bicep. At your touch, you notice how his arm stiffens ever so slightly. You don’t say anything.

Some things about Loki are best left unknown and unanswered.

Today is filled with a lot of getting off the ground in the most unceremonious way possible.

A deep exhale leaves your lips, wisps of your hair drifting with the brutal breeze from your nostrils. Beads of sweat trail along the curve of your forehead and the back of your neck. Some entangled with the strands of your hair. Your hands feel clammy and dirty but you run them to push your hair back and away from your face anyway.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling yourself away from his touch.

You finally get a good look at the two. Loki looks like complete shit but Sylvie manages to maintain the regalness to the locks of her hair despite her opposing overall behavior. It’s the Asgardian blood coursing through her veins. You cannot hide your ancestors' blood. It’s hard to believe the two are the same—one being. Yet, it's believable when you’re angry at the two of them.

The two messed up your career, that’s why.

Unbothered and uncivilized. It’s a miracle you’re still alive.

As your eyes shift along the train tracks that meander along a gorge with steep rocky walls that leer above it, you catch sight of a spark by your feet, glinting under the iridescent sky.

It’s the TemPad, shattered into pieces; you recognize the color gold of its border.

Your eyes grow wide, mouth agape. You don’t even feel angry anymore, it’s more than that. You stick out your hand to gesture towards the destroyed device, “Is that—Is that the TemPad?” you ask as your other hand lifts to hold the side of your head. “Or am I just seeing things from the concussion?”

Sylvie is the one to speak. “It’s not the concussion.”

You suddenly feel like you’re burning.

If it were possible, you could have instantly killed him with a look.

“You. You killed us!” you step closer to him and for a moment, Loki doesn’t exactly know what to do. “So, it’s my fault then? You were the one who left me alone in the lounge.” are the words that leave his lips. Completely useless. Trying to diffuse the tension is the exact opposite of what he does.

His silver tongue isn’t so shiny and silver anymore.

You don’t pull your blow this time. Your palm strikes his cheek, rocking his head to the side. Your hand is oddly soft. Loki winces and you stand your ground. “You’re a jerk and an asshole. You’ve probably been called that for all your life and yet, here you are. Still, the most insensitive and pathetic man I’ve ever met,” you articulate your words with frustration and rage. You don’t raise your voice like before, it’s low and frightfully intimidating. “And I’m not your babysitter.”

—

Battles, ruination, and fracas gave a sense of familiarity to Sylvie in a time of an impending apocalypse. When worlds end, benevolence is resolute. The tragedy of the end of lost souls—afraid to die. But as daunting as the apocalypse is, the beauty of their souls finally returning to the universe protrudes amongst the debris and misery.

She sees herself in the two of you, as much as she doesn’t identify as a Loki anymore, and her hatred towards the TVA. You have a temper and he doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.

You’re mysterious in an almost enchanting way and possibly significant as you seemed to be at first glance. Sylvie is highly curious about you.

You don’t stray too far from the group, only to find rest by the edge of a pit made by a crashing meteor. You sit with your back turned against the very two beings you distrust as you watch the border where the bustling city of Shuroo is based. Your guard is down and you don’t care at this point. Everyone is about to die anyway.

Sylvie’s gaze finds Loki who seems to be only watching the back of your still figure, eyes glinting with an emotion unknown to her. Possibly regret? Sylvie doesn’t know what regret looks like. But fear and anger, she feels it radiating from you. She knows it. Something tells her you’re not solely angry at her and Loki.

She finds herself drifting closer to you. You don’t move. She cautiously settles beside you. “You’re not hiding a knife somewhere, aren’t you?”

You merely scoff, caressing your head, “You’re the one to say.”

Sylvie blinks. Fair enough.

Silence. Sylvie’s eyes shift to the handkerchief tied around your arm, stained with blood. “How’s the arm?”

You hum. “Surprisingly, fine.”

Oh, Sylvie knows it’s fine. She knows what Loki did. She decides not to mention the scratch she made across your cheek.

“Did the slap make you feel better?”

The question is hinted at near sarcasm, but genuinely, she wants to know.

“Yes, it did. You should try it sometime.”

She simply hums. “I would have but you beat me to it.”

A turn of your lips as they curve into a small smile. Sylvie watches with an odd sense of satisfaction. “You know, I’m still mad at you. For what you did to me.” Your words are slow. You find yourself swallowing. “But it’s nothing compared to what the TVA did to you.”

Empathy. Is this what empathy feels like? The moment when someone finally understands what it’s like to be alone for so long. Your lives are different but they reflect in certain ways. You have had your fair share of living in constant fear and constantly running. Sylvie finds herself wanting to tell you that she hadn’t simply pushed you into Sakaar. When it’s a mission, things are never accidental. She always has a plan.

Yet, she chooses not to say anything.

You speak again but merely whisper, fidgeting with your fingers, “Before Sakaar—did you enchant me?”

It's as if you're reading her mind.

“Are you seeing things?”

After a pause, the fidgeting stops.

“I’ve seen things all my life, images. Brief and insignificant. But ever since I was in Sakaar, it’s gotten a lot harder to differentiate a dream and a memory.”

“That’s because they aren’t dreams.”

Your hardened gaze finds hers for a brief moment, nearly growing wide at her words but in an instant, your guard is up once you hear the shuffling of feet behind you where Loki lingers. The subject is dropped immediately. He meets Sylvie’s gaze, the two share a knowing look.

Your anger is provoked and well deserved and yet, the last thing he wants is to be your enemy. Loki doesn’t know why. He has lived a life full of them.

You’re different.

He stills, wondering if you’re going to lash out at him again but when he notices your slow breaths, he decides to sit next to you anyway, awkward glances to you in his periphery. A deep sigh escapes his lips, fiddling with his fingers. “What now?”

Sylvie is the one to answer. “I don’t know. You broke the TemPad.”

“Well—”

“And that planet is about to crash into us.”

Loki looks up at the nearing planet of Lamentis. He blinks. “Well, yes, but—”

“Yes, but what?”

“Well, the entire moon is destroyed, right?”

Sylvie is trying to suppress your growing annoyance. “Yep. And everyone on it is killed.”

But Loki pesters on. “Including us.”

She raises her voice. “Yes, including us.” Loki glances at you momentarily. A pause. He furrows his brows in thought.

“What about the ark?”

“The ark never leaves because it's destroyed.”

Suddenly, an epiphany, his eyes light up. He turns to you and Sylvie, “Never had us on it.”

You suddenly scoff at his words. “Are you suggesting we hijack the ark and make sure it gets off this moon?” You turn to him to only spot a vague smile playing upon his lips. He nods in return. “Sounds like a good idea to me, Agent.”

You merely blink, watching the way his eyes shift across your face. First, you’re struck with uncertainty. It’s a risk, a huge one but you know, risks are meant to be uncertain. Risks are also vital in success. Hesitation, doubt—they make you weak. This time, you want to be strong. Strong enough for one last push to save your life.

“Okay.” is what you say, your expression reflecting his.

For the first time, since he took your hand in Sakaar, you’re starting to trust him.

—

The walk to Shuroo seemed endless. You trail behind the two, feeling like you’re about to suffocate.

“—To preserve the connection, I have to create a fantasy from their memories.”

Loki and Sylvie had been conversing about the science and functions of enchantment in a rather surprisingly calm manner. Loki hums, amused by her elucidation. “And you call me a magician.”

Her expression is unchanged as she continues to trudge alongside Loki, ignoring his previous statement. “That young soldier from the TVA, her mind was messed up. Everything clouded. I had to pull a memory from hundreds of years prior...before she even fought for them.”

Loki halts abruptly in his step, hand flying to grab Sylvie’s arm. “What? What'd you say? Before she joined the TVA?”

Sylvie blinks. “Yeah. She was just a regular person on Earth.”

His mind starts to reel, face muddled with confusion. “I was told that everyone who works for the TVA was created by the Time-Keepers.”

“That's ridiculous. They're all variants, just like us. Including her.” Sylvie gestures discreetly to you who has stopped to take a breather, hands on your hips as you blink up to the sky.

You, Mobius, all of them. All variants.

“They don't know that. She doesn’t know that.” he breathes a terrified expression.

Sylvie looks at you from afar. You’re now looking at them with a bewildered expression. “What?” you call out, voice echoing through the wide area, in a somewhat defensive tone.

She turns to Loki once more, voice nearly faltering. “I have a feeling she already knows it.”

—

Loki doesn’t realize the unfamiliarity of hopelessness. Throughout his life, he was constantly surrounded by those with unfaltering determination—His brother, family, friends who were warriors, The Avengers.

Never was it known that he would see it burning in your eyes as they reflect the growing fire of the Ark, crumbling down, tongues of fire engulfing it whole before you. His heart burns with it as Shuroo falls quiet—only the sounds of the metallic crashing of the disintegrating parts of the ship falling from above and the screams of the rich and deemed worthy to live. Every Lamentian still alive held their breath, a moment's silence for their lives must end. Everything must end.

So close yet so far.

Sylvie is gone by the minute as the city starts to descend in terror and panic. He stands behind your still form, just watching your only chance of making it out, swallowed by its own billowing smoke. He reaches out for you, tugging you by the sleeve. “We should leave,” he says with a sudden sense to protect you. There isn’t much to do at this point. It doesn't matter if you are hit by the falling pieces of the Ark because you are all going to die anyway.

But he considers it a gesture, as insignificant and small it is. The least he could do is to distract you from the end, whether for a mere second or minutes.

“I know things haven’t been the best between us and I concede I bring out the worst in you, but I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You turn to Loki with his sudden words. He watches the way your expression softens so gracefully, face adorned with gashes and wounds. Your mouth twitches as you respond with a gentle voice. “I forgive you.”

Three words. Very powerful words.

His heart skips a beat.

You find Sylvie at the brink of the city, sitting on a stretched slab of rock amongst the dirt, watching the horizon where the planet starts to meet the moon. Loki still has his hand around your arm, but you don’t complain. It’s your only source of support at the moment. It’s an unconscious move, but everything about it feels right when the two of you settle beside her, shoulders brushing against each other. It only makes sense to want to feel the nearness, the closeness of another as the light at the end of the tunnel begins to dim.

It’s impending. It’s scary.

“I remember Asgard.”

Sylvie’s voice trembles, her eyes are somber.

“Not much, but I remember. My home, my people, my life. Then, the TVA showed up, erased my reality, and took me, prisoner. I was just a child.”

You turn to her, guilt bubbling in your chest, but you don’t say anything. You let her speak. It’s only right.

“I escaped.” she breathes, blinking the brimming tears in her eyes away. ”Stole a TemPad and I ran for a long, long time, which really sucked. Everywhere and every-when I went, it caused a Nexus event.”

Sylvie turns to you with a melancholic gaze. “The universe wants to break free, so it manifests chaos. Like me being born the Goddess of Mischief. But to you and the TVA, I’m not supposed to exist.”

For so long, you hadn’t realized the consequences of your work at the TVA. You believed you were right. That erasing, resetting realities were meant to be. You cannot comprehend how it only occurred to you to question the authority of the Time-Keepers over time itself after Sakaar. All those years of being ignorant and selfish. You hadn’t realized. You never did.

But now you know.

Sylvie continues, gaze shifting away from you. “I figured out where to hide. And so that's where I grew up, the ends of a thousand worlds. Now...that's where I'll die.”

Then, silence. It sits heavily between the three of you.

“The universe—isn’t she beautiful?” Your voice is soft, eyes trained on the horizon—a fleet of asteroids, they reflect the end. But they seem to dance to the silence of the apocalypse, drifting across the stratosphere, lining the firmament. Loki’s gaze shifts to you, training on every curve of your face and the tears slipping down your cheeks. He agrees, the universe is beautiful.

You’re beautiful.

“She brings turmoil, agony, and destruction but in all her flaws, there’s beauty in her very existence.”

Your hands find Sylvie and Loki’s hands, holding on to them tightly as you fight the wavering of your voice.

“You...Both of you might be the epitome of chaos but you must know that you have such beautiful souls. All of us, we're her children...and if she is beautiful, so are we. And the Universe is always right. If she created you then we are wrong.”

Sylvie’s face is soft. Loki squeezes your hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I should have known from the start...that the TVA was lying to all of us. I should have questioned. I should have doubted—”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” she says, smiling with saddened eyes.

You laugh. You don’t know why, but you do. Maybe, it’s because you know you are a part of the problem anyway, even if you were just doing your job.

You find Loki’s gaze that’s already on you. You sigh and speak through a whisper. “I’m sorry for slapping you.”

His lips curve into a grin, eyes crinkling like your own. “It was well deserved, but I forgive you.”

Fingers entangled with the hands of two unlikely people, you finally realize what it truly feels like to not be alone. To be in the company of someone you want to be with.

“Now long now.” Those three words leave the very lips of Sylvie and your chest feels like it’s about to collapse.

You never knew you were afraid of death, yet here you are—terrified.

The ground shakes beneath you. It’s dark and there’s fire everywhere. A meteor collides to the ground just across the way, it sends smoke billowing to its surroundings faster than you can blink.

Even in the last seconds of your life, you have doubts remaining. What if the universe isn’t always right?

Then, through the growing dust, you see a spark, like lightning. A glint of a figure, standing before you. White, pure, and serene. You’re standing now, staring ahead. Sylvie and Loki cease to exist in your mind as they gaze at you with bewilderment. They anxiously call you by your name but you don’t hear it. There’s only silence now, you don’t hear anything but the ringing in your ears.

A voice, she speaks with dignity. A voice so familiar.

“Doubt makes the strong weak, my child.”

Then, you hear it. A soft hum—a Time Door glows warmth amid your impending death.

Suddenly, she’s gone.

TAGLIST:

@lareinedususpense

@poubxlle

@mystoragehatesme

@the-maroon-panda

@kashasenpai

@nyxrae

@johnmurphys-sass

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson oneshot #loki oneshot #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki series #loki spoilers #sylvie #sylvie laufeyson

[mingmingfufu]

Can we just talk about the ending of KawoShin open discuss. *sort of spoilerish*

I feel like I’m the only one who’s like reallly disappointed LMFAO--ya’ll there’s so much “canon” alternative universe and merchandise for Kawoshin in Evangelion that it kind of makes me upset to realise this couple just went down the drain. Yeah, I can see how people were like, “Kaworu’s toxic” or “Kaworu has a hero complex for Shinji” to which I say are valid points. But the toxic thing I feel like can also be applied to pretty much everyone around Shinji tbh, except for Rei. I did NOT, like Asuka at all but I really love her character though, and I felt for her a lot throughout the series.

I did not ship them either because honestly, Shinji and Asuka seemed better off playing the sibling dynamic instead of trying to play bf/gf which honestly is kind of forced by their living situation. Also since they’re in a similar disposition non existent father and dead mother, you’d imagine they would rely on each other for emotional comfort. Though Asuka—her personality I feel like she can’t differentiate between familial love and romantic love and the affection she wants is a bit of both. But, her character tries to be “mature”; she wants romantic love more and does this through sexual means and romantic gestures e.g. like kissing. One of my friends told me that you can’t stay friends as a boy and a girl cause eventually you catch feelings. Which I say is kinda dumb cause I have a lot of male friends, and I definitely don’t harbour those feelings, but I guess it’s a common phenomena.

I think this is what happens in this case, of Asuka and Shinji. Even after rejection of instrumentality they actually are depicted as childhood friends. But knowing how they both were before to each other, it was not good tbh. Also to mention the choking like thrice— bro if anything, this showcases a really abusive relationship and I think this outstretches the idea of their character tropes. Which I firmly stand by saying they’re superficial to each other. AsuShin were never really there for each other and are using each other in a forced situation. However, you can’t deny that they didn’t at some point catch feels, also Shinji is pretty consistent how he still cares about everyone around him. Which I really like how they add that to his character because it reminiscent of Yui, because you see a duality of both his parents personality in Shinji throughout the series—it’s a really nice touch. But bruh, if we gonna talk about that coma scene—I’m out LOL.

Thoughhhh, she is a true definition of best girl I really like her arc, fighting drive, and her skills as an Eva pilot 😭💗--but bruh she’s still a toxic and sometimes annoying tsundere trope, but still she’s 14 what can you do. So I feel like Kensuke and Asuka are actually a pretty good combo, cause he’s always been pretty mature even without parents. Also Asuka was into older guys, so I guess this is a win win?? Also Rei and Shinji, I honestly cannot get my head around it cause that’s pretty much his mom—so in a way that’s like either his half-sister or mom-ish clone?? Idk but Yui is definitely the donor LOL.

Kaworu and Shinji I felt like brought a bunch of things out of each other. I don’t know which timeline begins first, but I’d like to think the manga, the anime (plus its movies), and then to the rebuild series. Because I think that order is kind of pivotal to observing Kaworu’s character development from being a person who’s trying to understand human feelings to then the kinder person we see in the final series. You can tell how he’s changed and he knows Shinji a lot more as well as being considerate to him e.g. giving him personal space or letting him work at his own pace. Also that “we’ll meet again.” Is an obvious nod to how he’s done this before.

His literal story in every timeline is always romantic LOL, like bruh I can’t remember which game it was but basically a bad ending of Kawoshin route is that you reject Kaworu and he starts the third impact 🤡. Also I don’t know why but I started to see a weird dynamic between those two, in the manga their interactions reminded me of Asuka and Shinji—which Shinji is the tsundere Asuka here. I don’t know if this is relevant but the older character relative to the character they’re with seems to play off a mature vs a childish person trope. Asuka is younger than Shinji and Shinji is actually younger than Kaworu. Then again I could be overseeing this but istg manga Kaworu and Shinji mirror the whole Asushin dynamic. Like he’s seriously agressive against Kaworu, then after killing him he admits liking him. 🤡 I don’t know which is funnier no homo Shinji, homophobe shinji, or just closet Shinji who needs to realise sexuality is a spectrum so he could’ve idk—come out as bisexual, but whatever manga Shinji lol that timeline is over.

Anyways the development of these two is real and I think the rebuild timeline shows them at their best bringing their own personage out from each other like how they both enjoy music together--WHICH I’M SO SAD WE NEVER GET TO SEE THAT CELLO AGAIN. Then there’s those feelings of humanity, love, kindness, etc. Which yeah an angel could represent those things, but Kaworu is still his own person, self-aware of a cycle and if you think about how he initially was there to USE Shinji, but ultimately turned on that plan set by SEELE because he loved Shinji (and a bunch of other things like him showing Kaworu humanity). I also can see the argument, how “ideal” Kaworu is to Shinji, but he’s more self aware of the time he has before he KNOWS he’ll die and knows how to act for himself in that duration to make the most of it. All with Shinji. At some point, I think he fell in love with Shinji tho I don’t know where it began tbh—considering that all those alternate universes do exist. Kaworu does romantically love Shinji--so, in some universe they both reciprocate their feelings to each other. 

In the last movie during that convo with Shinji. Like bREH it’s so emotionally moving because Kaworu remembers ALLLLL the timelines and how he’s been with Shinji and later Shinji himself recalls the events too. Where they show the scene from the manga and anime. Kaworu cries after being set free from the EVA cycle. Which, I definitely understood what he meant by him saying “it’ll be lonely” and how Shinji changed or that he’s actually different this time.

Either way, Shinji did right by him because it’s always Kaworu who has the purpose of “trying to save Shinji” but it always ends up the same. I thought that was really moving because Shinji tells Kaworu he’s gonna let him live a life for himself for once and he wants the same for everyone as well. Which was honestly so meaningful cause I think Kaworu’s character and like Rei too when they start to realise how to “live” like a person and not another puppet it’s truly liberating. Another thing I forgot, bruh Kaworu calls Gendo his father and ngl I feel like this is kind of a weird lore situation because I for sure don’t think he’s the donor. I think he calls him that as an insult because he knows Gendo’s whole doing and relative to Shinji—I kind of see it as a joke LOL. Like it’s equivalent to saying, “daddy chill”, or “hey look it’s daddy and his plans to end the world” also I kind of like to think of it as a father in law thing cause you know, Kawoshin *winks amirite*

The ending, I’m honestly hoping is just an open ending because it gives everything an actual start of their adult lives not being dictated by extraterrestrial forces. Though, I’m kind of wondering if the world doesn’t have EVAs does that still mean everyone else still has the same backstory, and do they remember? Maybe Mari really is just a coworker lmfao, and there’s still a chance for Kaworu and Shinji cause ngl, they did have a convo (presumably from the spoilers) about still remaining close afterwards and that stare at the ending seems very hopeful.

I call bs from Anno saying, “oh Shinji is based off him and Mari off of his wife”, like honestly any OCs made theres always some part of yourself made into that character. Which is probably why a lot of people relate to the characters in EVA because they’re based off real things (e.g. those war machines characters are named after and people around them). I think why Kaworu and Rei are together at the end, is bc they’re very much the same. They’re mass produced dolls—which oddly enough that’s the case for all the children except they don’t recall the loop. Kind of funny also how both Kaworu and Rei became farmers lmfao so ig it runs in the family (yes that’s right I like the idea that they’re siblings it was always noted that they’re like “the same”).

Another thing, i think why the rebuild really did well for Kawoshin and in my opinion canonised it—the convo with elder Ryoji Kaji (Misato’s baby daddy) that there was a time he felt incredibly lonely and depressed thinking Misato didn’t love him and so he started looking out for himself. So self love and found himself a hobby in farming which he suggests to Kaworu—basically saying he might feel like Shinji doesn’t love him but he’s gotta remember to take care of himself. if I go thru a breakup ill feel like it’s the end of the world but Kaji says y’a gotta self love broe and take care yo self gad dam fam 😭 💗.

Though, that look at the end from Shinji to Kaworu—I’d like to believe there is still hope that one day when they’re a bit stable in their adult lives, they’ll run into each other.

#Kaworu Nagisa #shinji ikari #neon genesis evangelion #rei ayanami #mari illustrious makinami #asuka shikinami #discussion #kawoshin #nge kaworu #nge shinji #nge

[melancholydreadfuldream]

Hell-bound with you

Fandom: Doctor Who

 Pairing: Doctor x Reader

 Summary: You are the unwilling companion of the Doctor.

 Warning: ooc, plot holes as usual, dark!doctor, insanity, etc. You have been warned.

   A/N: I hope this post show up in search result  just fine. The part four of my other fic I posted at the end of last month just won’t show up in any search result, tags not working. I hope this one work okay.

     I watched in amusement from my spot as Jack tried to summon the Doctor but failed instead, he kept getting her companion. I couldn't help but laughed at the old man expression when Jack kissed him in the mouth. 

  I was surprised when the old man, Graham, revealed that the Doctor is now a woman. Jack is giddy with excitement as he wanted to see the Doctor so much. But he kept pulling in the companion instead. Yaz and Ryan. 

  Eventually Jack realized that the judoon technology is the reason why he can't pull the Doctor to him. Personally, I was grateful that the Doctor is not here. I wouldn't want to catch his - i suppose now - her attention. I admit I am a bit curious about how she looks like. The Doctor's first time as a woman, I wonder how she will act.

  My attention snapped back at Jack as he warned the companion about the lone cyberman. It was all very cryptic. 

  Turned out the companion has never encountered a cyberman before so they understandably are confused.

 Both Jack and I had suffered together in the short time since we met and you know what they said about forming a close bond during a life and death situation. It makes us comrade.

  Jack knew some stuff about me that I would never tell anyone. I am so grateful that I met him while stranded in this alternate universe. 

  Of course, it just my bad luck to have landed in a time period where cybermen overrun the world. I was lucky I met Jack. It would take me forever to sort thing out otherwise. I shuddered at the thought of being taken by cybermen for conversion.

  I didn't know what to think of the companion because I didn't know of them. I didn't know of the newest incarnation of the Doctor being female either. There were rumor floating around about it but I missed her first season on the account of finding myself suddenly existed within the impossible DW universe.

  I hated it. It wasn't fun. And I ended up ruining the Doctor's timeline. I had to run from him when he changed into that monster. Oh, I know he would come looking for me sooner or later. He would never let me go just like that. Misery loves company and all of that. Some part of him did blame me for changing him, I just know it.

  But running away and found myself stranded in another DW universe isn’t exactly how I planned my escape. The upside of being here is that I’m finally free of that person.

  I heard an amused chuckle within my mind and I frowned. Right, I guess technically I am still haunted by that person. I glared at the bow-tied figure that only I can see, a proof of my insanity. I tried to ignore him and his unwanted commentary on whatever it is Jack and I did.

  This particular universe thankfully still follow the canon, I think. I don't know if it will be a blessing or a curse my escape being here, knowing my luck it will ended up as another curse. I do know one thing, this time I have to avoid the Doctor at all cost. It will be hard, I'm sure, as I felt it so many times before back then, someone pulling the string and play on me like a puppet. Of course, no one believe me, not even that person.

  I didn't know the future of the Thirteenth Doctor but I will still be a threat to her should she realized what I am. That's what happened with that person. He insisted that I stay with him and everything has gone wrong ever since. 

  I tried not to think about that person and his now-never-happened future courtesy of me, of my presence, in his life.

  "(Name)?"

  I snapped out of my trance as Jack called out to me in concern.

  "Is it him?"

  I blinked when I realized I must have been talking out loud and thus gaining Jack and the companion’s attention. "I'm fine."

  Jack gave me a look that said he didn't believe my bullshit. 

  I ignored him. I noticed the companion are staring at me as if I was insane. I held back a frustrated laugh. Well, I am insane, somewhat.

  Jack introduced me to them. “This is (Name). She is with me.”

  "Is she a friend of the Doctor too?" Graham asked Jack.

  "Well..."

  "No." I firmly said as I glared at him in warning. "Oh, just shut up." I glared at an empty space on my left.

  The companion stared at me warily.

  “err, did she just talk to an empty space?” Ryan asked.

  “Yeah, she does that.” Jack replied, not taking his eyes off me.

  I tried to focus on Jack and the companion. I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache forming.

  Jack's frowned as he observed me. "She's...complicated." He suddenly yelled in pain as the nano-genes started to attack him. He complained very loudly.

  I was worried for him. "It’s time. We should leave here, Jack." I said as I grabbed him. “You already did your part, warning them.”

  "You are right but there is...” Jack groaned. “...one more thing, (Name), you are not coming with me."

  "What?! What the hell are you talking about?" I punched his arms in annoyance.

  Jack rubbed his arms and give me a look. "You should go with them and stay with the Doctor."

  I was pissed. I thought he understand. "No. You..."

  "I know what you think of her but I still think you would be safer with her than with me. Also, maybe she could help you with him." Jack replied, turning to glance at the space I have been staring at before despite not being able to see what I see.

  "Like hell, I'm not going! And you can't make me!" I yelled petulantly.

  The companion stood there looking confused at our argument.

  Jack let out a sad smile. "I'm sorry, (Name)." He took my hand that is on his arm and let it go.

  I blinked in confusion and annoyance. I was momentarily distracted and Jack took that opportunity to activate the vortex manipulator on my person and I suddenly blip out of the ship and found myself on Earth instead.

  7777

  I almost lost my balance as I landed harshly. I cursed loudly.

  I saw the Doctor's companion materialized not too far from me.

  "Son of a..." I growled. "That damn head jar!!" I cursed Jack. "Shut it!" I snapped on the empty space near me.

  The companion stared at me warily.

  I groaned in annoyance.

  "We should go find the Doctor." Yaz suggested.

  "Yeah, you guys go ahead. I'm out of here." I said.

  "But I thought that Jack fellow said that you should stay with the Doctor?" Ryan asked.

  "Ignore that cheeky bastard's words!" I said and then stopped myself. "Except about the cyberman. That was true. Alright, I'm leaving." I waved at them and left despite their protests.

  Screw Jack. He is not the boss of me. 

  7777

  I walked without a purpose as I ponder over what I have to do next now that Jack has abandoned me. Like hell, I’m sticking around to see the Doctor no matter how curious I am of the female Doctor.

  “He’s right, you know, you would be safer if you stay with the other Me.” He said.

  I glared at him. “And what? Risking of her turning out like you because of me?”

  “I think you give yourself too much credit. I was always going to turn out this way sooner or later. Valeyard, remember?”

  “But you are not the Valeyard.”

  “Yet.”

  “And that’s what make it worse. I did this to you. I turned you...”

  “Victorious. That’s what I am, thanks to you. It wasn’t that bad.” He said with a shrug.

  “You burned down planets!”

  “I did that once in a while. You know this." He is referring to Gallifrey. "Besides, you know they deserves it.” He said as a dark expression crossed his features.

  “We lost Clara. I wouldn’t call that victorious!!”

  “And we avenged her.”

  I was ashamed that it was the truth. I did help him to avenge Clara’s death. In fact, I was the one who urged him to do it because I couldn’t accept her death. They haven’t even done Trenzalore yet. And now they never will. Because of me, Bow-tie won’t even get a new set of regeneration. But considering how he turned out, am I doing the world a favor by limiting his life to his eleventh self? Now he will not get the chance to regenerate into Eyebrow. Or did I just make it worse? Like he implied, he is very well on his way into becoming the Valeyard.

  “I am curious about the Doctor of this universe.” Victorious pondered. “I have never regenerated into a woman before. I was on my last regeneration right now."

  I tensed at that. I kept reminding myself that the person in front of me is not quite real so even if he did figures out the truth, there is nothing he can do about it. No Clara, no new regeneration. Unless he made me fill her shoes, play her role so to speak on Trenzalore. I hope not. Well, I had escaped him, somewhat. 

  The real Victorious probably was too busy right now to ponder about the calling of Trenzalore. And knowing him now, he might actually let Trenzalore burns.

  I think I bought enough time for myself so it might take him a while to locate me especially since I have a bio-damper ring on my person to hide the void stuff that apparently covered me when I first arrived in DW universe. With the ring, he won't be able to track me down easy. It also help hid my presence from the Doctor of this universe too.

  I sighed as I stared at my 'companion', the one only I can see, an accidental result after some weird mind meld with the Doctor. 

  When I first took a glimpse of him the first time I was stranded in this alternate universe, I thought he was somehow in my head, then I beginning to question my sanity, creating a shadow figure of the Doctor in my headspace. Seemed like I could never be free of the Doctor. Part of me believed I deserved it, to be haunted by the Doctor that I ruined.

  Sometimes I really thought he is the Doctor when he suddenly said things that sounded like something the Doctor will says. And then he is being all sarcastic with his unwanted commentary on everything I do and...meh I thought of him as a figment of my imagination designed as my personal demon to torture myself. But, weirdly he does know information that I could not possibly know, things that the Doctor or some other screaming genius might know but not little stupid, ordinary Me. There is no way if he is a hallucination created by me for him to know those complicated stuff. Anyway, thanks to that, Jack trusted me, I did save his life, both our life actually, by following the advice of the shadow Doctor. 

  Jack believe me albeit a bit reluctantly at first and eventually did trust me enough to watch each other back through hell and back. It was all very dramatic but also rewarding as we formed a friendship. Unfortunately, he's loyal to the Doctor hence he disbelieved me when I said I am bad for the Doctor, he still somewhat believe the Doctor is the answer to fix everything that could go wrong, even though he should know better. 

  I groaned as I ponder on what to do now. I understand the truth in Jack's words that I might need the Doctor of this universe help should Victorious able to track me down to this universe. But I am also right about my presence around the Doctor never bode well. So you see my dilemma?

  Thankfully the Doctor and her companion never look for me. I guess she is not curious enough with me.

  Back then as I watched the first two episode of season 6, I found it weird that bow-ties who supposedly adores children, didn't bother to look harder for little Melody Pond after she escaped the astronaut suit. Maybe there is some additional information about it from DW book or the audio-book but I never got my hands on them.

  Anyway this is good. It would be troublesome if she did decided to track me down.

  7777

  I thought I covered my track very well but the time bounty hunters somehow able to track me down at some black market in some random planet. It was weird but it seemed the Tardis translation circuit still work on me even if I am not anywhere near the Tardis. Or maybe it is thanks to that annoying 'companion' of mine?

  I'm following the advice of the shadow Doctor to find an equipment to, as he said he will indulge me for now, hide me better. I used my vortex manipulator given by River a long time ago at the Library. She taught me how to use it so that I won't accidentally kill myself while using it.

  Anyway after I purchase the said equipment and before I could use it per the shadow Doctor's instruction, the hunters found me.

  Honestly I hope the self defense lesson I got from River and then Jack would be enough to at least help me escape my pursuers. I thought I did good but they still found me.

  That's when the shadow Doctor 'helpfully' told me that I had a tracking chip somewhere inside my body courtesy of the real him. That bastard. Putting a tracking chip without my knowledge or permission like I am some freaking pets.

  I glared at him angrily.

  He grinned in amusement. "Hey, technically it wasn't me who did it."

  "Close enough..." I muttered.

  He told me the equipment I purchase earlier should destroy the chip into dust inside me without harming me in the process. Removing the chip would be better but without the correct equipment and a professional medical knowledge, it would be too dangerous.

  But before I could use it, they found me again. I was at some random abandoned building. One of them broke my wrist as I fought him. I screamed in pain.

  "Hey, don't hurt her! He won't be pleased!"

  "She won't stop struggling! She bites me!"

  I groaned in pain as they pushed my whole body on the wet floor.

  "She is not to be harmed in any way." Someone said. "The client is very specific about that one. He need her for something. He is willing to pay so much for her."

  My eyes widened in fear as I realized they are not planning to take me back to Victorious. That would be even worst. Are their client some enemies of the Doctor who is trying to take me as hostage? Or do they after the knowledge I have of the Doctor? But there is no way someone could know. I was sure Victorious remove all threat on me.

  I catches the glimpse of dark expression crossing the shadow Doctor's feature as he too listen to what the men had said.

  "Who even is she? Why do they willing to pay so much for her?"

  "Don't you know? She's the consort of that guy, the Doctor."

  I rolled my eyes in disdain at that misinformation but made no move to correct them. There is no point.

  "For real? But she is running from him? Why?"

  "Have you been living under a rock? That man has gone insane. Who would in their right mind stay with him?"

  "I heard the stories about him."

  "Not stories."

  "So, is it wise to betray him like this?"

  "You assumed we got the job from him but we didn't. By the time we hand her over to the client and got our money, with this technology to cross over universe..." He glanced at the elaborate vortex manipulator on their wrists which you assumed they got from the said client. "we can make a new life in some other universe. He won't be able to find us."

  The shadow Doctor chuckled coldly. "Whoever that client of their is, I know they are not stupid. To go after what is mine, they would have to take care loose end in order to remain undetected from me." He said as he observed the men. "That vortex manipulator probably has an expired date on it and more..."

  He turned to look at me, kneeling before me with almost a bored look. "I did warned you that you would have been safer if you stay with the other me."

  I glared at him. "Quit talking, do something." I hissed at him.

  He smirked. "You didn't say please."

  "Who is she talking with?" One of the men asked.

  They hauled me up to face them.

  "You are not very smart, are you?" I said with a smirk. "He is already here. The Doctor. Or should I say Victorious?"

  They looked around nervously.

  I pulled my sonic screwdriver, the one I stole from Victorious, and set out sonic sound, as instructed by him, that momentarily hurt everyone's ears but also caused some old hanging lamp to either explode or fell to the ground, causing chaos. 

  I ran immediately out of the building. Ignoring the growing pain in my wrist, I yelled at him to tell me how to use the equipment to destroy the chip. I moved the equipment to some spot of my neck and pulled the trigger.

  I clamped my mouth as burst of hot fire pain filled me. I gasped as I fell to the ground. Tears filled my eyes. I felt so dizzy.

  I distinctly heard him telling me to stay awake and ran. So I did albeit really slow.

  Like I said before, someone or something seemed to be pulling the string on me because as I made my weak escape, I found myself face to face with the companion I met with Jack weeks ago and there is a woman with rainbow stripes on her clothing with them. The Doctor, my mind supplied.

  Shit.

  "It's you." Ryan whispered, seemingly surprised to see me.

  "Doctor, she is the one we told you before. she was with Jack." Yaz explained.

  The woman glanced at me in guarded curiosity. She walked toward me and opened her mouth to say something but I fainted right into her arms.

  7777

  I woke up inside the Tardis in the medical bay. How did I know that? He told me.

  The Doctor, the female one, entered the room and smiled upon seeing that I already wake up.

  I no longer feel any pain, not on my broken wrist and on my neck. I assumed she fixed that. And someone changed my wet dirty clothes with something comfortable.

  I heard her yapping about the danger I put myself using the equipment she found with me. I didn't listen, still a bit too dizzy.

  "Who are you?"

  "(name)." I replied.

  "Ok, (name), I'm the Doctor. My fam said you were with Jack and that he instructed you to stay with me?"

  "He was wrong." I said bluntly. I forced myself to get up and stand up despite her protest. "I should leave."

  "You can't. We are in the vortex. Also you were hurt. Who hurt you? Also who put a tracking chip inside you? You destroyed the chip using that equipment. Are you running from a prison? Did Jack broke you out of prison?"

  I groaned and chuckled harshly. "You talk too much." I said as I clutched my pounding headache. "Prison, huh? I guess you could say that. Oh, shut up." I snapped at my right.

  "Who are you talking with?" She observed me curiously. "The fam told me that..."

 "I am a bit insane? That would be correct. Better stay away from me, doc." I said in derisive.

  She glanced at me.

  "Stop looking at me like that!"

  "Like what?"

  "Like I am some animal in a zoo."

  "I am so sorry."

  "For what?" I asked in confusion.

  "For whoever hurt you like that." She whispered. "Yaz changed your clothes. She said you have scars on your arms, consistent with someone being restrained and being injected and also..."

  "Stop." I glared at her menacingly. "That was private. None of your business."

  She, thankfully, stopped talking about that topic. But she suddenly pulled my sonic screwdriver. "How did you get this?"

  I took a deep breathe trying to calm myself over the fact that she and Yaz invaded my privacy. "It's mine."

  "Not possible." She said firmly.

  "Uh-oh, someone in trouble..." I heard him said in a teasing sing-song voice. I glared at him before turning to face her. 

  "Someone gave it to me." I lied. "Now give that back and let me leave." I demanded.

  She shook her head as she took a step back. "Did you steal this?"

  "Ding dong, she got it!" The shadow Doctor answered cheerfully much to my annoyance.

  Fine, I'm going to give her some shock value. "River gave it to me, satisfied?"

  The Doctor look shocked, her mouth dropped open. "You know River? River Song?"

  "That was a low blow, (name)." The shadow Doctor whispered at me in disappointment.

   "She was my friend." I spat. That wasn't a lie, technically. River was my friend but in the other universe, not in this one. "I'm sure you wouldn't know me, Doctor. She wouldn't talk about her friends with you. Mostly because you would not be interested." 

  The Doctor observed me, trying to spot the lie. She seemed satisfied to find none. But she is still suspicious though. "Why would she give you this?"

  "For my protection. I will only know how to use it whenever I was in danger." That one is not a lie since the shadow Doctor only tell me how to use it whenever I need to escape danger.

  She hummed at that, probably wondering if I ever misuse it. She didn't seem to keen of returning it though. At least she didn't confiscate the vortex manipulator.

  "Jack vouched for me. Do you think he would send someone not trustworthy to you?" I said. The answer is yes, by the way, because that traitor Jack ignored my warning how I am not good for the Doctor's timeline. If I am to stay with her, predictably things will not be canon again and it will definitely be hell-bound.

  The shadow Doctor chuckled at what I said.

  The Doctor didn't say anything.

  I raised an eyebrow. "I guess you don't trust Jack or do you only trust him when he is useful to you?" I asked in vicious tone. "Fine, keep the damn sonic screwdriver."

  "Oh now you have done it. She is not going to let you leave now." The shadow Doctor helpfully informed. "That is my 'i-don't-trust-this-person-i-need-to-solve-what-she-is-hiding' look." He grinned gleefully.

  I almost want to slap the jerk if not for the fact he is not really there so it is kinda pointless.

  Resigned to the fact that I am stuck with the new Doctor, I am determined not to let her in my head. A mistake I made with bow-ties which in turn caused him to become Time Lord Victorious.

  But I have no idea what the future hold for this version of Doctor and her companion. One thing for sure, the canon is about to go to hell, especially since I have no idea what to do and what to avoid doing.

  "I think you should stay with me. I can help you with whoever after you. But I need you to trust me."

  What a hypocrite. She doesn't even trust me. Why should I trust her? 

  "I don't want to intrude. Just dropped me back on earth at 2020." I said.

  "Oh, bad year." The shadow Doctor supplied. 

  "I insist you stay here for a while. After all, isn't that what Jack want me to do? Welcome to the Tardis. It is..."

  "I know what it is. River and Jack told me."

  "Well then...if they trust you, I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt..." She smiled brightly. "Welcome aboard, (name). We are going to have adventure of the lifetimes."

  If she think I would rejoice, she is sadly mistaken as I stared at her flatly, not impressed.

  He chuckled at my expense.

  The Doctor glanced at my unimpressed look, sighed. "Well, you are a tough one."

  7777

  And so I ended up becoming the Doctor's unwilling companion...again.

  She re-introduced me with her fam and officially give me a room in the Tardis.

  Yaz is wary of me but Ryan and Graham are nice and friendly.

  And just like that I got pulled into their adventure. I tried to refused saying I'm feeling ill most of the time, preferring to stay behind but unfortunately the Doctor doesn't trust to leave me inside the Tardis.

  Does she think I could drive the Tardis or something? Seriously...

  7777

  I was stuck in a nightmare. I was back with Victorious and he punishes me for escaping. He trapped me in a special room designed to punish me mentally. He always did know I am weak mentally. He was surprised that I could survive this long by luck alone.

  I saw the laughing figure of a trickster, saying the joke is on me and...

  I woke up to the concerned face of the Doctor, the female one.

  I remembered now. I fell under the clutch of some wannabe gods from ancient Syria. They fed from people's nightmare.

  The woman, Rakaya, glanced at me wickedly, saying I have some delicious nightmare.

  The Doctor saves the day and able to trick the wannabe gods into eternal imprisonment.

  At the end, as I sat with a blank expression on my face on the stairs at the console room, Yaz and Ryan approached me and asked if I want to talk about my nightmare.

  I just said that I dreamed of being back in the room. They didn't push me for more. Yaz, being a police officer, probably suspected based on my scars, that the room was where I was imprisoned before.

  7777

  Darn it.

  Despite my determination not to get attached with the Doctor and the fam, I failed. Damn adventures and dangers and excitements, it does bound us closer with each other. I saved them, they saved me.

  "Admit it, you miss this, didn't you? The adventures, dangers, excitements?" The shadow Doctor teased me. "You got used to it already."

  "what about you?" I asked him. "Do you miss being the Doctor? Saving people and planets instead of destroying them on a whim?"

  He was silent. For once, he left me alone. I think I hurt his feeling despite him being a hallucination.

  7777

  Once I was almost taken by another bounty hunters, the Doctor rescued me and declared that I am under her protection and anyone who want to take me, will have to go through her first.

  The oncoming storm expression on her face is enough to make them back off and I was left in peace.

  The Doctor is not pleased that I still won't tell her the reason.

  "You have your own secrets and I have mine. Respect that!"

  "I can't protect you if you don't tell me the truth." The Doctor had said.

  "Fine, let me leave. I can take care of myself!"

  Both the Doctor and the shadow one snorted at me much to my anger.

  The fam has to interfered with our arguments. 

  "Cool off, the both of you!" Yaz demanded.

  Reluctant to leave for the next adventure but having no choice, I went with them. Another life-threatening incident passed with me rescuing Ryan, softened the Doctor and she apologies to me, sort of. 

  7777

  It finally happened. As Jack warned, the lone cyberman has come.

  The Doctor asked me the thing that the cyberman after so I told him about the cyberium. Jack did told me about it in passing. He was part of the alliance, after all. I guess he told me about it because he always planned to dump me at the Doctor. I admitted I hold a grudge against Jack for this still.

  The Doctor took me with her but instructed the fam and the rest to stay put. She asked me more about cyberium. I honestly don't know anymore but she kept pressing me, taking her frustration at me.

  To be honest, she frighten me at that moment, reminding me of Victorious.

  From the way the Doctor reacted when she explained about cyberman to the other, the shadow Doctor concluded that she must have lost someone to the cyberman.

  Bill Potts, my mind supplied. I knew she was supposed to be the Doctor's companion after Clara. Since Bill is not here anymore, I can only assume she is the one the Doctor lost.

  The Doctor raced against time competing with the cyberman called Ashad to get the cyberium before him.

  She eventually figured out the cyberium is possessing one of the residents in the house. She managed to trick the cyberium into leaving its current host.

  The cyberium is attracted to the Doctor for a host much to my horror as she started to blurt out something the Time Lord Victorious would say.

  I saw the shadow Doctor glanced at the other Doctor in amusement and curiosity. His eyes darkened with the lust for power. At that moment, he look so much like the real Victorious I have to believe he is truly him, not a pale imitation of him.

  He turned to look at me as he finally notice the look of dread on my face. "You see? The Doctor has always headed to this..." He said with a chilling smile. "It wasn't you who turned me, dearest (name)."

  "Get away..." I whispered in fear. I snapped out of it and yelled at the other Doctor, "Doctor, don't!" at the same time as Yaz.

  Thankfully, the Doctor snapped out of it too.

  The lone cyberman threaten to destroy the planet right that second if the Doctor refused him the cyberium.

  Having no choice, the Doctor give its back to him. I have failed Jack. I know she has no choice but this meant Jack and the alliance would be in danger again.

  As we returned to the Tardis, the Doctor made a plan to go after that asshat, I mean, Ashad. 

  She prepared some machinery in order to fight against the cybermen armies. At least she is confidence she could win this. 

  I planned to go with her to help and rescue Jack and then I am going to slap the hell out of him.

  7777

  Of course, things just don't worked as well as the Doctor planned. We are in the far future where the last of the human race located. I couldn't find Jack or the alliance.

  We are overpowered by the cybermen and got separated from each other. I ended up with Yaz and Graham while the Doctor is with Ryan.

  Somehow we ended up in cybership with the cybermen armies in the middle of waking up.

  We are trapped. Everyone is panicking. I heard Yaz tried to talk to the other Doctor via an unreliable communication device.

  I turned toward the shadow Doctor. "Do something!"

  He turned to me with a chilling smile. "I have taught you before, right?"

  I swallowed down my fear. "Please..."

  He sighed as if what I am asking him is too troublesome.

  I jumped when the steel door started to shake some more under the constant attack from the cybermen.

  "You remembered when you were taken from me by the Division?" He suddenly asked.

  I remembered it. I was taken, my mind half lobotomized in order to gain access on what I know of the Doctor. I woke up to everyone in the building died. I assumed Victorious did it.

  "I could activated the physic bomb I planted inside you."

  "What?!" This is the first time I heard this. "What the hell is that? Why do you insist of putting things in me?" I lost it at him. I am furious, wouldn't you be?

  "(name)!" Yaz called out to me in concern but I ignored her and the rest who thought I finally lost my marble.

  "Oh chill out, it won't kill you, well, only temporally." He said as he played with his nails.

  "Bastard!"

  "If I activated the psychic bomb, you and everyone in this ship will died, well not you obviously, and the cybermen but they will lost all function for roughly an hour or more. Enough time for you to escape, well, once you are resurrected that is." He said.

  "What about them?"

  "What about them?" He parroted. He shrugged. "Not my concern."

  "The hell with that! Save them too!" I demanded.

  "I warned you not to get attached..." He sounded bored now.

  "Find another way!"

  "Why should I?"

  "Please. You are the Doctor."

  "I'm not the Doctor anymore, remember?"

  "Fine, you are victorious! So prove it!! Save them and be victorious over the cybermen!!" I screamed at him, tears of desperation filled my eyes.

  He took a look at me and relents. "Fine."

  I let out a shaky relieved breath at his answer.

  He instructed me to tell the mechanic of the bunch with me to remove some electrical thingies to support enough for teleportation for all of us to escape.

  "It is not enough!" The mechanic said. "Only enough for four and there are seven of us!"

  "If only someone has a sonic screwdriver..." The shadow Doctor said mockingly. "Guess you have some decision to make, little (name), which four gets to escape with their life."

  I cursed the other Doctor for taking the sonic from me. To my surprise, Yaz pulled a sonic screwdriver from her bag.

  "She told me to give it back to you." Yaz explained.

  My mouth dropped open in shock. I laughed in near hysterical and turned to the shadow Doctor with a grin. "Tell me."

  He sighed in exasperation. "Fine."

  I used the sonic as instructed, giving the teleportation enough power to transport all seven. "Go!" I instructed Yaz and Graham and the rest to go first.

  "What about you?" Yaz demanded.

  "I have one last thing to do." I turned to the shadow Doctor as everyone left the ship. "Do it."

  He glanced at me with a look and smiled. "Being a martyr?"

  "Buying them some time. They are far enough not to get affected by the psychic bomb, correct?"

  "Correct."

  "And you are the one who said I will survived it so not a martyr."

  He hummed. "You sure?"

  "Do it."

  "As you wish."

  Just as the door crashed open, I screamed as he filled my head with so much pain it triggered the bomb creating a pulse of energy that sweep the cybermen off their feet.

  I clutched my heart as it was rudely stopped.

  The last thing I saw is the shadow Doctor hovering over me, muttering something I couldn't hear.

  "I only ask because triggering the bomb would send a signal directly to him..." He said. "He is coming, (name). I am coming."

  7777

  I slowly opened my eyes, found myself on the ground. "Oww..."

  The Doctor and the fam are there, surprised to see me alive.

  The Doctor scanned me with her sonic. "But...this is impossible." She blurted out. "You are only human, how can you...? You are immortal? Like Jack?"

  "Ugh stop talking. Can I get some water please?" I pleaded.

  Everyone stared at me weirdly but an old man thankfully gave me some water.

  The Doctor still couldn't get over the fact that I survived and demanded to know what I have been hiding from him.

  "Take it easy, doc, she did save our life." Graham said.

  The Doctor relented.

  "The cybermen..."

  "Out of commission for now. How did you do that?" The Doctor asked.

  "Tell you later."

  She glanced at me. "You better." She said firmly before turned to Ko Sharmus who showed us to the Boundary and there a portal opened.

  Both the Doctor and the shadow one blanched in horror when they recognized the ruins of Gallifrey.

  And then some random guy leaped out of the portal.

  "Master." I heard the Doctor spatted in disgust.

  "What?" I accidentally yelled. Last time, to my knowledge, the Master is Missy, though? What happened to her?

  "Like a pest...he just keep coming back, huh?" I heard the shadow Doctor said with a chuckle.

  The Master demanded the Doctor to go with him. She refused at first. But when he threaten to kill the rest of us, she relented.

  Reluctantly, she goes with the Master through the portal, instructing the rest of us to stay behind.

  "Follow them." The shadow Doctor demanded. 

  I stared at him as if he has lost his mind.

  "Do it!" The force of his words gave me headache.

  "Oh, alright! Geez!" I glared at him in annoyance but did as I told and the pounding headache lessened just a bit.

  Yaz and the other tried to stop me but I told them not to follow me.

  The Doctor is enraged when she saw me. "What the hell? (name), get back out there!"

  The Master is not pleased to see me either. "Control your pet, Doctor, or I will be forced to kill her."

  I glared at the shadow Doctor at my predicament of having two very angry Time Lord. "I have no choice, okay!" I said to them.

  The shadow Doctor chuckled and told me to say something for him intended for the Master.

  "Like hell, I'm gonna say that. He is going to kill me." I refused as I glared at the empty space beside me much to the confusion of two still very angry Time Lord. He wanted me to call him by his name 'Koschei'. I clutched my head. "Oh, fine!!"

  "You always have such a sort fuse, Koschei." I repeated word for word.

  Both the Doctor and the Master flinched and glared at me suspiciously.

  Great. Nice going. Is he planning to get myself killed?

  "How do you know that name?" The Master demanded.

  "He told me." I gesture to the empty space beside me.

  The Master stared at the empty space before chuckled darkly. "Your pet has gone insane, Doctor?"

  I stared at him flatly, trying to cover my fear. "The Doctor told me." which is the truth. "just not the Doctor you know." also truth since the Master technically never met bow-ties.

  The Doctor stared at me in confusion.

  "Yeah, don't care." The Master shrugged and pointed his gun at me as I raised my hand in surrender but the Doctor stood firmly in front of me, shielding me from him.

  "Don't you dare." The Doctor hissed at him.

  "You don't want to do that. Unless you want me stop both of your hearts." I said, more like repeating the shadow Doctor said.

  "Are you threatening me?" The Master look pissed.

  "(name), who are you talking with?" The Doctor turned around and grabbed both of my arms, demanding an answer out of me.

  "I..." Is this it? Do I have to tell her the truth? I turned to look at the shadow Doctor. I swallowed down hard as I look at the Doctor and then at the Master. "To answer your question, yes, that was a threat. How do you think I made the cybermen lost his function, Doctor? I have a psychic bomb inside me, killing me would trigger it, would kill myself and stopped both of your hearts. So unless you want an early death, I suggest you temper yourself." I said as flat as possible.

  Both Time Lords stared at me in shock.

  "Psychic bomb? Who did that to you?" The Doctor demanded in concern and slight fear.

  "The Doctor did." I said softly.

  She released me as if stunned.

  The Master curiously looked at me and the Doctor. "Oh fuck this, you ruined my moments, ape!"

  "(name)..." The Doctor stared at me as if I grow two head suddenly.

  "Come on you two, we need to be somewhere else right now!" The Master demanded.

  The Doctor grabbed my hand and took me with her as the Master led us the ruin of the citadel.

  As we entered the hall of matrix chamber, the Master suddenly hit me over the head, causing to collapse on the floor, losing my consciousness.

  Both Doctor and the shadow Doctor are enraged at my behalf. The Master claimed he need her attention on him, not on her stupid pet.

  7777

  I woke up to huge commotion. The Master is yelling something at a hologram of Ashad and his armies, asking them what happened. We could heard explosion. He turned to the Doctor asking her what has she done but the Doctor claimed it wasn't her.

  They were shouting at each other. Until a signal caught on his communication device.

  "A signal. The four taps of two hearts." The Master suddenly said in confusion.

  I glanced at those two as they started to bicker again. They are the last two Time Lords, so who was it that send him a signal?

  My heart suddenly beats faster as dread filled me.

  "The signal is getting close but something seemed to prevented it to come through..." the Doctor said as she pulled her sonic at the device that now emitting some sort of pulse. A portal suddenly appeared in the middle of the room.

  I turned toward the shadow Doctor who look at me fondly. I couldn't decipher the meaning of it for a time. He suddenly started to fade away and my eyes widened as I suddenly have a realization.

  "No!!" I shouted at both the Doctor and the Master trying to make them stop just as a pulse of energy exploded knocking all of us off our feet and I lost my consciousness once more.

  7777

  The portal opened. A man in bow-ties and dark purple suit stepped out of it.

  The Doctor and the Master groaned on the floor. They looked up to see the newcomer.

  The Doctor froze in shock when she saw her past-self. Her mouth dropped open.

  He fixed his bow-ties with a grin. "Finally..." He turned and glanced at the other two Time Lords. "Hello there."

  "Who the hell are you?" The Master asked.

  "Victorious, at your service." He said, bowing mockingly at them.

  The Doctor's face paled at the name. "But you can't be..."

  "Oh? Why not?" He asked.

  "You were me. And I never, he never..."

  "You are the Doctor. Interesting." He said, eyes gleaming in excitement.

  "You...are not me." The Doctor finally realized.

  Victorious turned toward the unconscious human at the floor. His eyes softened considerably as he walked and squatted before the human, one hand gently removed the strand of hairs covering the face. "I guess even here, you couldn't escape a Me after all, huh?" he said. He sighed as he cradled the human into his arms. His forehead touches the human gently. "Seemed like you still keep some secret from me too..." He glanced at the Time Lady before him with a chilling smile before turning to look at his human again. "You bad, bad girl, what is to be done with this?"

    A/N: I don’t know if there will be more. Maybe if inspiration hit, I will. Bear in mind, if I do write more, I might just add it in the same post instead of making another one so stay tunes? But for now, TTFN.

#doctor who x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction #thirteenth doctor imagine #eleventh doctor imagine #shiefenwrites

[seanfalco]

Girl Talk | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’verse

Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: smut, oral (f!receiving), voyeurism a/n: Happy Thirsty Thursday from @super-unpredictable98 & I 💚

——

Lydia stared at the Community Centre through the window, as she often did, her fingers dancing over guitar strings as she tried not to disturb the others still asleep in the bedroom. 

"I just wanna tell you that you're really pretty girl, I just wanna know if you will let me be your world.  I just know you got to taste like candy, candy girl.  I just wanna tell you that you're really pretty girl..."

Win stirred as she heard the faint sound of singing coming from the other room and she sat up, rubbing her eyes. Looking down she noticed right away that Lydia was gone, both Nathans sprawled out snoring softly. Carefully extricating herself, Win gently brushed her fingers through her Nathan's curls as she slipped off the bed, grabbing one of the boys’ hoodies from the door handle to wrap around herself as she snuck out to the other room, drawn by the sound of Lydia's voice.

"I just wanna tell you... Jesus Christ!" Lydia yelped, clutching her chest when she noticed Win standing next to her. She immediately turned red as if somehow her girlfriend could read her mind through the song. "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

Win smiled at the sight of Lyddie's burning cheeks, sitting down next to her, and tucking her bare legs under her. "Yeah, but it's okay. Your lovely voice is the best thing to wake up to," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leaned in to brush a kiss to Lyddie's cheek. "Were you perhaps, singing about me just now?" she asked innocently.

"Yes..." Lydia admitted, unable to look Win in the eye, but leaning into her touch. "I- God, I'm terrible at this, you're so charming and I feel like everything I say just sounds dorky." 

Another stolen song, she should probably tell Win that as much as she meant those words, they weren't hers, but maybe now wasn't the best moment for that…

"I don't think you're dorky, and you're far from terrible at this..." Win murmured, tilting her head. "You've thoroughly charmed me."

"Maybe you just have a soft spot for former nerds and delinquents," Lydia placed her hand on the back of Win's neck, closing the distance between them with a tender kiss.

Win sighed as she kissed Lydia back, savouring the moment.

"Don't you know, I'm a delinquent too," she teased, "and a closet nerd." At the skeptical look on Lydia's face Win's grin grew. "Oh yes, there's much you have yet to learn about me, Lydia Bellamy."

"That makes a lot of sense, I have a thing for bad girls," Lydia chuckled, putting the guitar away. "But why don't you tell me, then? What do I have to learn about Winrey Lewis in order to become an expert?"

Win smirked, "Oh jeeze, where to start," she mused, twisting a strand of Lyddie's hair between her fingers. "Well, I love a good horror movie... and the bad ones too," she said, thinking. "I read comic books, the dirty ones," she confessed with a laugh. "and I stole the yellow Fender that I use for all my shows," she finished. "What more do you want to know?" she asked.

"First of all, yes, bad horror movies are great. Second of all, I read the superhero ones, but I'd love to try yours. And third of all, that is so fucking sexy..." Lydia groaned, holding Win against her chest as she leaned against the window.

"Tell me a little about your family, how are they? I can't wait to meet them."

Win's smile faltered as Lyddie brought up her family and she went quiet. "Ahh, yeah... my family," she mumbled awkwardly, sighing. "You don't wanna meet them. Trust me."

"Oh," Lydia suddenly felt horrible for even bringing it up. "What's the deal with them? T-t-that is if you wanna tell me, if you don't that totally fine, I understand."

Win felt Lydia tense next to her and she quickly sat up, looking at her girlfriend. "My mum died when I was 16. She had cancer. She fought it for three years and we thought..." she shook her head, "It came out of remission and it took her quickly.”

“After that my dad, he... he changed. He remarried shortly after, like he couldn't even wait for my mum to be put in the ground. And my step mum... she's such a cunt. Just ask Nathan."

Win shook her head, a bitter twist to her lips. "And then there's my step sister, Delilah. She's a year older than me, and the reason I ended up in community service."

"I'm so sorry, Winnie," Lydia didn't even know how to react, she thought about her family all the time and lamented what happened when she left, but at least they were all alive and well. "I shouldn't have said anything, I'm really sorry..." Lydia suddenly stopped when she realized something. "Your step sister, you say her name is Delilah, isn't she the one who threw that party last year?"

"Yeah, you know about that?" Win asked, sitting up straighter, curious as to how Lyddie knew.

"That fucking bitch! She's friends with my bully's older sister, well... one of my bullies. After that fight in the bowling alley, your step sister and those two slags made my life a living hell!" Lydia groaned furiously. "They filled my locker with mice, they told everyone I had sex with our bio teacher, they dumped a bucket of piss on me... That was just the first month."

"Wait, what!" Win gasped, her brows drawing down, her mouth falling open. "That cunt," she growled under her breath. "Lyddie, I'm so sorry!"

"Yeah, it was a difficult year... Jesus, I understand why you don't want me to meet them," Lydia shook her head, remembering all the laughs, the stares, and the name calling.

"Hey," Win murmured, slowly wrapping her arms around Lydia's shoulders, an idea coming to her. "Maybe we should go see them sometime, if only t'give Delilah a little taste of her own medicine," she laughed.

"Yeah... I would like that," Lydia smiled, the idea of avenging her younger self was tempting. "And I think your step mom is gonna have a fit when she knows you're in a quad, we can kill two birds with one bullet."

Win laughed. “My dad already hates Nathan, especially after the scene he caused the first time they met and then when we all went over to get my stuff when we got our flat he told him he’d knocked me up.”

"That is the most Nathan thing I've ever heard," Lydia snorted with laughter. "Oh my God, I wish I could've seen his face... I love when Nate pulls this kind of stunt, it's kinda hot."

“He looked like a fish,” Win laughed as she remembered how he’d open and closed his mouth several times, his face turning progressively redder. “And you’re right. It is kinda hot,” Win agreed with a sigh, feeling affection wash over her for her Nathan.

"I wish I could introduce you to my parents, my mum might... have some issues, but my dad would love you!" Lydia smiled sadly, a sharp sting in her heart from thinking about him. "He'd probably tell you my good taste in women comes from him."

“Tell me about him,” Win prompted gently, resting her head on Lyddie’s shoulder. “I mean, if you want. He just seems special to you.”

"My dad is the kindest, most caring man I know, that's where Simon gets it from. He's brave, and funny, and smart... my mum was almost never home because of work, so he basically raised us, he's the only person I regret leaving behind," Lydia's eyes filled with tears, and she looked away, not wanting to seem weak. "I see him from time to time, with Si, or on the street, I always have to remind myself that I can't run to him..."

“I’m sorry, Lyddie,” Win murmured, gently turning her face back toward her, running her thumbs under her eyes to catch her tears. “That’s gotta be hard to see him, but not able to talk to him. Is there any way you can tell him the truth? Or would that mess with the timeline more?”

"The problem is my mum, if she found out she'd go mental. Curtis told me when she found out about Simon having powers in an alternative timeline she freaked out so bad, he had to move out." Lydia sighed and tried to put on a smile. "But it's okay, it's not the end of the world... Maybe one day."

“Ahhh,” Win said, frowning slightly, a thought coming to her. Maybe if there was a way they could get Lyddie’s mom out of the house and distract her, give Lydia some time to talk to her dad without her mom there... It was a thought, and she’d need to refine it first before she brought it up, but it was there. “Yeah, one day,” she agreed, brushing Lyddie’s hair from her face.

"So... how was it that you stole that guitar?" Lydia draped her arms around Win's neck and dragged her lips softly along her girlfriend's jaw. She needed a distraction to forget all that sadness and maybe help Win forget hers as well. "I'm asking for research purposes... obviously."

“What, you gunna become a thief too now, hmm?” Win asked, humming at Lydia’s touch.

"I don't plan on it," Lyddie purred, kissing and nipping at Win's neck. "I just can't stop imagining you doing it."

“Ohhhh, that’s right, you like bad girls,” she moaned, grinning, her hands sliding down Lyddie’s sides. “I only nicked it from the pawn shop while the guy’s back was turned.”

"That's really hot, but then again... anything you do is hot," Lydia's hands snaked under Win's hoodie. "The boys are asleep, what do you say we have some fun? Just the two of us?"

“Anything, huh?” Win mused, her breath catching as Lydia’s hands slid under her hoodie. “I say that sounds good she moaned, arching into her girlfriend’s touch. “You’ll hafta be quiet though, if you don’t wanna wake the boys.”

"That won't be a problem, my mouth will be busy," Lydia giggled before capturing Win's lips in a heated kiss while her hands still roamed the other woman's body. "I wanna taste you..."

“Oh, really?” Win purred, a pleased grin curling her lips as she kissed Lyddie back, slipping her tongue in the other woman’s mouth.

Lydia hummed in response, hooking Win's legs around her waist. "You're so sexy..." 

"Am I still dreamin' or is this really happenin'?"

Nathan's voice made Lydia nearly scream in surprise, then huff in frustration.

Win groaned softly, pressing her forehead to Lydia’s shoulder when the other woman turned toward the Nathan in the doorway. She wasn’t sure, but she had a feeling it the was the Nathan from Lydia’s dimension.

"Don't let me stop ya, I'm- I'm not even here!" Lyddie's Nathan sat down on the couch. "Go on..."

"Usually I have to shake you awake and today is the day you decide to wake up on your own?" Lydia whined. "Brilliant..."

Win snorted, turning Lydia’s face back to her, a strange excitement filling her at the thought of being watched. “You did say you’d let him watch,” she mused.

"Yeah... I suppose it's fair," Lydia felt a weird embarrassment — is that what people call stage fright? "So, where were we?" She grabbed a throw pillow for Win to lay on and crawled between her legs.

Win settled against the pillow, lifting her hips so Lyddie could pull her knickers down, desire pooling between her legs. Noticing the nervous look on her girlfriend’s face, Win held her gaze. 

“Just focus on me, Lyddie,” she purred, opening her legs wider. She knew that nervous feeling all too well from when Nathan had first suggested making their own videos, but she’d soon gotten over it, finding it more exciting than anything. “Are you gunna touch yourself while you watch?” she asked, lifting her head to address Nathan.

"Me? Oh, I mean, it'd be a waste if I didn't, don'tcha think? Such a nice view..." Nathan leaned back with one arm behind his head and Lydia took a deep breath, focusing on her girlfriend as she lowered herself to kiss Win's thighs teasingly. 

Nathan would never judge you or your technique, he loves you, she thought, he's enjoying it, there's nothing to worry about.

Win tried to bite back her pleased smile. Something about the thought of Lyddie’s Nathan getting off to them made her feel even hotter. 

“Mmm, Lyds,” she whined softly, twitching as she felt her lips on her sensitive thighs, feeling herself get even wetter with the anticipation. “Oh please, I want you so much babe. I want that beautiful mouth, please Lyddie,” she moaned, rolling her hips and stretching, slowly unzipping Nathan’s hoodie to bare her chest.

"You look adorable when you beg, Winnie," Lyddie felt a wave of confidence build up inside of her, her hands traveling to Win's chest, rolling her nipples slowly. Watching as her girlfriend squirmed, Lydia bit her lip, moving back to where Win wanted her the most. "This is what you want?" she flicked her tongue on her clit, giving it kitten licks, looking up to catch the reaction.

“Oh yes, God, your tongue feels like heaven,” she moaned, already forgetting about Nathan, Lydia drawing her attention completely. Jesus, but the way she was looking up at her like that from between her legs, it was too much. The subby little Lydia was nowhere to be seen, and Win felt her whole body flush at the confidence that radiated from her.

"You taste so good, baby... my candy girl.”  She dragged her tongue along Win's wet slit, tasting her arousal, which only made Lyddie even more eager to please her. 

Nathan watched agape from the couch, his hand already stroking his rapidly hardening cock. He wanted to let Lydia know how hot that was, but he feared that would only make her feel shy.

Win moaned louder, stretching one arm over her head as the other tangled in Lydia’s hair, catching sight of Nathan for a moment, his lips parted beautifully, the look of pure lust on his face as he stroked himself hot as hell. “Oh, please,” she murmured, squirming, desperate for more. “Bring me undone, Lollipop,” she begged, hoping it was alright to call her that. She wasn’t sure if that was a Nathan only pet name, but it felt so good to say it.

"Oh, Jesus..." Nathan twitched, clenching his eyes shut. It was so sexy when she said it. Lydia felt her own arousal coating the inside of her thighs, this was turning out to be way hotter than she expected.

Without even thinking about it, Lyddie slid two fingers inside of Win and curled them as her tongue kept teasing her partner's clit mercilessly.

“Oh!” Win cried softly, not ready to be filled by Lyddie’s fingers and clenching around them tightly. “Oh, just like that,” she gasped, chest heaving, her hand in Lydia’s hair tightening unconsciously. “Oh, I’m getting close!”

"Yeah? Come for me, baby, give it to me!" Lydia pumped her fingers in and out of Win as her tongue moved at a steady pace, intoxicated by the feeling of giving pleasure. Nathan felt himself getting closer as well, low grunts escaping his lips, his eyes glued to the girls.

“Ahh!” Win cried, tensing, her back arching as she pressed her cunt to Lydia’s face. “Oh God, Lyddie!” she keened, whining softly as her muscles twitched and jerked as she came against her girlfriend’s eager mouth, her eyes squeezing shut as her mouth fell open.

"Fuuuck," Nathan moaned as he came, rolling his head back. "That was so hot... Jesus..." 

"So," Lyddie gave Win one last lick before moving up to face her with a hopeful look. "How was that, baby?"

Win collapsed back against the floor, trying to catch her breath. “You have—no idea—how hot you are,” she gasped, pulling Lydia toward her for a kiss. “God, you’re amazing. I’m so spoiled,” she teased lightly.

"I like spoiling you," Lydia mused at Win's beautiful post-orgasm glow. "I love to hear you moaning for me." 

"Okay, that was... Holy shit," Nathan panted, throwing one hand in the air. "High five, Lollipop, you've got some skills!"

“I agree with Nathan,” Win said, pushing herself up to her elbows. “You’ve got mad skills, babe.”

"Seems like I might have to do it again when your Nathan is awake then... I think he deserves it too," Lydia chuckled before pressing her lips to Win's

Win kissed her back, relishing the taste of herself on her lips. “Mmm, I won’t argue with that,” she murmured, sitting up further to slip her fingers over Lydia’s rather soaked panties. “But what about you, hmm?  You must be awful turned on, babe.”

Simply the feather-like touch of Win's fingers made Lydia gasp softly as her entire body tensed up. "I am, would you like to take care of that for me, Winnie?" Lydia gave her girlfriend an innocent look. 

"I'll never watch a porno again... this is so much better!" Nathan laughed with amusement.

“Hey, where is everyo—?” Win’s Nathan’s question cut off as he stepped out of the bedroom. “I need t’stop sleepin’ in so late,” he muttered, his eyes going straight to Win and Lydia on the floor, Win’s chest still bare in naught but his open hoodie. “What I miss?” 

Win flushed sheepishly, burying her face in Lydia’s chest, hoping he wouldn’t be upset that they’d let him sleep through that.

"Y'missed round one, but round two is still on..." Lyddie's Nathan said as if they were watching a fight. Lydia tried not to laugh, she felt bad for Win's Nathan, but she would find a way to make it up to him. She shed her jumper and threw it across across room, hoping he would be able to enjoy himself at least a little bit…

“Aw man,” he muttered, plopping down on the other end of the couch. As strange as it sounded, he was curious to watch someone else pleasure his girlfriend for a change, wanting to really be able to focus on the faces she’d make or the way she sounded as she squirmed with pleasure. But this was just as good. 

Win promptly ran her palms up Lydia’s bare chest as she leaned in to kiss her neck roughly.

“You don’t happen to have a strap on do you Lyds?” she whispered in her ear.

"Actually, I don't, but I know where to get one..." Lydia raised her eyebrows and looked over at the pair of Nathans. "Which one of you would be so nice to make a strap on for us?" 

"I got it..." Lyddie's Nathan nodded. With a snap of his fingers the toy appeared in his other hand. "There ya go, love." 

"Is this your cock?" Lyddie analyzed the dildo carefully. 

"'Course it is! I know how much y'love the beast..."

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that,” Win laughed, taking the toy from Lydia and standing to put it on, feeling both pairs of emerald eyes on her. “You like?” she asked, tilting her head with a smirk. For a moment she wondered if Lyddie’s Nathan had ever been pegged before.

Lyddie's Nathan uncomfortably looked away for a second, exchanging a look with his clone. He felt conflicted, because that was really sexy... 

"Mhmm..." he responded almost inaudibly. 

"You look so gorgeous like this," Lydia exclaimed, her chest heaving in anticipation.  She’d never done this before, but Win seemed quite experienced, so she felt safe.

Win noticed Lyddie’s Nathan’s hesitance and she had a feeling she had the answer to her question. But there had been a flash of want there. Her Nathan on the other hand smirked and nodded, eyeing her unabashedly. 

“Are y’nervous?” Win murmured as she gently pushed Lydia to her back and hovered over her, gripping the silicone cock to rub the tip teasingly along her glistening slit.

Lyddie's Nathan stared at the other one puzzled, why was he so comfortable with this? Had he...? Oh God. 

"A little, but I trust you," Lydia nearly whispered, letting her body relax, it couldn't be that different from any other cock, right? There was nothing to be scared of.

“Just let me know if you want me to slow down or go faster,” Win murmured, stealing a kiss before guiding the tip of the toy to her entrance and pushing into her slowly, letting her adjust. It had been too long since she’d fucked a girl like this, fuck but if it wasn’t turning her on again. 

Pulling out nearly all the way, she slid back in, slightly farther, working her way to sheathing the toy completely, her hips grinding against Lyddie’s pelvic floor, the edge of the strap rubbing deliciously against Win’s pussy. “Does that feel good?” she asked, holding in place, watching her girlfriend’s expression carefully.

"Yes!" Lydia moaned, throwing her arms around Win's shoulders as she felt herself deliciously stretching around the toy. "So good..." 

Lydia was wrong, it felt completely different from having sex with Nathan, but it was amazing. 

She fought the urge to shut her eyes, wanting to watch as Win thrusted into her. "Fuck me harder, Winnie, please..." Lyddie begged, bucking her hips.

“Sure thing, Lollipop,” she drawled, smirking as she thrust into her again, harder this time, her small tits bouncing as she found a rhythm, spurred on by the lovely sounds Lyddie was making.

"Wow, she's really goin' for it..." Lyddie's Nathan muttered under his breath, which was completely drowned by Lydia's whimpers.

"Oh, Win, right there! Don't stop, baby! I'm gonna... Oh fuck!" she watched Win hypnotized, her eyes, her tits, her hips, she didn't wanna miss a single detail.

“That’s right babe, I wanna hear you when you come. Be as loud as you want, love,” Win panted, not slowing, each rolling thrust only serving to send another jolt of pleasure through herself as well.

Lydia usually wasn't that loud, always scared to be heard, but something about the way Win said those words just made her want to be heard. "God, you're so fucking sexy!" she unapologetically shouted, letting her orgasm take over in what felt like an explosion inside of her. Lyddie's body relaxed, she collapsed still sighing Win's name like prayer.

Feeling her second orgasm from just the friction alone, Win shuddered as she thrust one last time into Lydia, nearly collapsing herself, feeling sweat roll down her face. “Oh, Lyddie, you did so well,” she murmured wearily. 

“Oh shit, that was hot,” Win’s Nathan groaned, quickly cleaning the sticky mess from his stomach.

"Come here," Lydia pulled Win closer, wanting to be held. "That was fucking incredible, you're you're good at this, lots of practice?" 

For once in his life Lyddie's Nathan was speechless, he didn't know to react, how to feel... Lyds would look good in one o'those, was all that went through his mind.

“Sort of,” Win answered, unbuckling the harness from her waist as she situated herself next to Lydia, wrapping her arms around her. “I’ve not used one on a girl in a while.”

"Oh..." Lydia understood immediately what that meant and giggled while hiding her face on Win's chest, thinking about it. 

"Um, okay, you guys hungry? I'm starvin'..." Lyddie's Nathan got up abruptly and left for the kitchen as quickly as he could.

Win watched him go, her stomach twisting with guilt. Had she said something wrong? Did she make him uncomfortable?

She nearly pushed herself up to go after him, but hesitated, unsure if that would even be helpful. Maybe Lyddie should be the one? Before she could make up her mind, it was her Nathan that pushed off the couch, stretching nonchalantly, though he flashed her a pointed look.

“Y’know, after that display I’m pretty hungry myself. You girls stay there, lookin’ pretty,” he said, following his clone out.

"Hey, man," Lyddie's Nathan tried to sound casual as he fixed himself a sandwich with whatever he could find in the fridge. "The girls are really goin' at it, aren't they?"

“Yeah, it’s definitely somethin’ else. I think we’re livin’ the dream, ain’t we?”

"Yeah, yeah..." he nodded trying to ignore the question lingering in his brain, but it was nearly impossible. "Did Win... Did she ever...?"

Nathan swallowed, clearing his throat. He had a feeling that was what was on his mind. “Uh, yeah... we, uhm...” he stopped to clear his throat again. As much as he found he enjoyed being pegged by his girlfriend, it was still something about himself he was getting used to. “It... it wasn’t exactly somethin’ I’d asked her to try, but she’d wanted to and... well would you be able t’say no t’her?” he demanded, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"I s'pose not... Lyds never brought that up, I just... It caught me by surprise, that's all. I never imagined myself doin' that."

Lyddie's Nathan felt a little lost hearing his clone talking about those things, because that meant he also had the potential to do the same. That scared him more than he'd care to admit. "But um... Is it good?" he said as quietly as he possibly could.

Win’s Nathan chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, I didn’t think it would be, but... yeah. I wouldn’t have let her do it more than once if it wasn’t,” he admitted, rolling his shoulders. “But hey, just cuz me an’ Win do a thing, doesn’t mean you and Lyddie hafta.”

"That's the thing, man... I know she'll want to, and that shit was really fuckin' hot, so I kinda..." Lyddie's Nathan stopped himself in the middle of the sentence, he wasn't ready to say it. He simply scrunched up his face, hoping his clone would understand, and why wouldn't he? They were the same person.

Win’s Nathan merely nodded, clapping his clone on the shoulder. “Yeah, I get it.” After a moment he looked thoughtful. “I could always ask Win t’give her some pointers, if y’want...” he offered with a shrug.

"I think she's askin' for it as we speak," Lyddie's Nathan chuckled, piling up the sandwiches on a plate, knowing the girls would be hungry as well. "Those two... Jesus."

“They’re certainly voracious,” Nathan agreed. Back in the other room, Win had moved her and Lyddie to the couch, the floor having gotten a little uncomfortable. “How you doing?” she asked, stroking her fingers through Lydia’s hair.

"Never been better," Lydia snuggled closer to Win. "You look so hot with that thing on. I kinda wanna try it one day..."

“I’d like that,” Win admitted, loving seeing her girlfriend be more dominant and confident. “I’m not sure, but I think your Nathan liked it too.”

"Yeah, he got a little flustered there... I should talk to him about it," Lydia mused, and then turned to very gently brush her lips on Win's. "But I might need to practice with you first."

“I like the sound of that,” Win replied, grinning against Lyddie’s lips. “Maybe sometime when we don’t have an audience,” she added wryly.

#misfits #nathan young x oc #Nathan x Win #nathan x lyddie #otp: green apple lollipop #nathan young #timeline anomaly’verse #collaboration #oc stuff

[void-bitten-ghost]

Spidersilk

Or, alternatively: Oh No, They're Back At It Again With That One AU That's Consumed Them

Another post order 66 fic, set before the Night Terrors one. This is when they first work together again, years down the line from the jedi purge. Maul has his syndicate and Ahsoka is working as Fulcrum with the rebels, but they'd sometimes do things to help each other's group just because it fucks with the Empire. Here, they come to an understanding while begrudgingly working together on one of those missions.

Again, set in the ex mando/jedi Maul AU where they grew up together in the jedi order (plus other weird timeline divergent stuff). I don't think there's any trigger warnings but just in case there are mentions of being wounded.

But yeah, enjoy?

-_-_-

The first time she even acknowledged the bond they'd somehow built up again, they'd both been gravely wounded.

It was a smash and grab mission, too important to send anyone else. And apparently his organisation felt the same way. They somehow met on the bridge, carnage left in the wake of both of them coming from either side of the ship.

They were being caged in.

It was almost the end of them both, that day. But he'd gotten her out of that ceaseless line of fire, calling her to the air ducts. And so, she repaid the favour by getting him out of the still falling rubble of the ship. The ship he'd crashed, by the way. The irony was not lost on her.

But somehow, together, they'd survived.

Tending to his wounds hadn't been easy. He didn't make it easy. But she patiently insisted. He'd taken a deadly blow meant for her, after all. Plus, there was some maintenance needed on his prosthetics if they were to make it out of there and back to point B in time. Something was off with the stabilizers, it seemed, but that was something he insisted he could sort on his own.

She'd come to terms with the fact that they'd have a better chance of survival if they continued working together. And survival... she had people counting on her to get this intel back.

Eventually, under the logic of 'the quicker this gets done the quicker they can move on', he acquiesced to her assistance.

Didn't mean he was happy about it. And the feeling was mutual.

"If you'd just stop moving away from me, I could get this done quicker." She says, wrapping a wound on his shoulder, placing a bacta patch here and there on the problem areas. "Seriously, a youngling squirms less than you do."

Surprizingly, she only gets a deeper scowl aimed at the floor for the trouble. No sharp quip, no barbed words. Just the deepening of that ever present frown and him falling still once again.

She ignores it, that unnerving silence, moving lower to his ribs and attempting to disinfect the wound there.

He turns away, growls, but she ignores that, too. It'll take more than a pitiful noise like that to scare her off now. He'd had the chance to kill her more than once in the past few years of this strange arrangement, she doubts he'd try his luck now of all times. And over a bit of disinfectant at that? Ha. Please.

He's all bandaged up and recalibrated in no time, and he starts working on wrapping her back lacerations when it proves to be a monumentally awkward task for her to do on her own. She concedes begrudgingly, just as he had done to her.

It seemed appropriate in the dark to say nothing, to simply allow all this to happen. It was a separate space, a pocket of calm in the storm of their lives. And that was somehow soothing. If she closed her eyes for a bit, just a little bit, she could almost imagine them back in the temple training grounds, patching eachother up after a particularly gruelling bout of drills. Could almost feel the sand under her boots, smell the sun baked earth, hear the yells and clacks of younglings training just down the way...

She comes to when the smoke from the crash blows their way, breaking the idle dream into a thousand smouldering pieces. That was another time. Another life entirely. But here they are, together again in the chaos of a stark, new reality.

She breathes hard through her nose, tasting ash and oil on her tongue. Pinching her own thighs, she finally says the words that had been playing on her mind since the crash. Since he, against all preconceptions, saved her life by endangering his own.

"Thank you," she murmurs into the quiet. "For saving my life back there."

His hands still momentarily. Almost for a full breath before continuing, and she supposes that's the end of it, thinks nothing more of it and then-

"You're welcome." The words are so quiet, a barely there murmur just like her own had been. But then, even quieter, thrown into the emptiness of the room like a stone in a glass house...

"And thank you."

The bond between them, that spidersilk thread, once severed, grew thicker that day. And that, in turn, lead to them allowing their auras to push and ebb against eachother once again, just a little bit. Just a touch. A toe in the water.

That was when it started, she thinks. That day in the rubble, where they saved each others skin and thanked eachother for it.

#ahsoka tano #maul #ex mando/jedi maul au #maulsoka #maulsoka build up #star wars #star wars fanfic #my writing #holy shi tballs am i posting More Writing??? you bet your ass i am

[sarunohadaki]

Royal AU with time travel for Henjasp, pretty please, if that's okay?

The first thing that popped into my mind was: ballroom dance. It's only natural. How you GET to said ballroom dance, I do not know. But I have two ideas.

Under read more cuz idk this is long and also spoilers

1. First one I thought was p good. For some reason, Hendrik and Jasper are trapped in a time loop. Initially, they don't realize it because Yggdrasil was just destroyed and the world has been thrown into bedlam.

So. Hendrik's and Jasper's first days in this new apocalyptic world are pretty different. Hendrik has arrived at Cobblestone and is trying to help rebuild into the Last Bastion while Jasper is being Evil in the now-destroyed Heliodor Castle. Hendrik's first day's pretty difficult — they already have a cemetery. The survivors barely manage to construct one house as shelter against monsters.

The next day, Hendrik wakes up face-down in wherever the fuck, same as yesterday. He doesn't think much of it (he's a himbo, after all), so it takes a few tries, but something is obviously wrong.

I personally think Hendrik would confront Jasper first. Jasper's more the wait-and-see type, even if he knows time is fucked. So first confrontation you have the same one we witnessed in game, with monster Jasper fleeing at the end.

Hendrik returns to the destroyed castle every day. At first, Jasper doesn't want to talk. He's finished with Hendrik, refuses to have Hendrik change his mind.

Only... little by little, Hendrik definitely does. After the first fight, Hendrik acknowledges Jasper's insecurities and acknowledges that to get out of this time fuckery, they're going to have to work together.

For this, I would write an ending perhaps where Hendrik and Jasper manage to join forces with the Luminary and defeat Mordegon, with Jasper living through the whole thing. It'd be a slowburn, with angst and Jasper having to come to terms with being Good.

(Note: Even IF the others are also re-experiencing everything, I doubt they'd be able to make all the progress required to reach any sort of endgame in one day. These (and many others) are the details I don't have answers to in a lil idea bubble, people...) A kiss would prob be the thing to break their Cursed Groundhog Day.

There's nothing inherently "royal" about that except maybe that they're both knights. Oops, dropped the ball on that, sorry. But I think the idea is still good?

2. Suspend disbelief for a moment and imagine a world where Eleven shatters the Sphere of Time, but everyone's yeeted not only back in time, but into alternate universes.

HenJasp end up ten years back in a universe where Dundrasil never fell. Mordy's still around and HenJasp have still had to go through knight training, etc., so they live in Heliodor. But Eleven is a little prince and Jade is Hendrik and Jasper's ward. At least, Hen/Jasp look after her sometimes.

Hendrik has a Tough Time at first coming to terms with Jasper being alive, let alone everything else about this other timeline. Jasper's not doing much better, but he's much more capable of bottling it up (as one does).

The two are in their twenties. They have a (sort-of) future ahead of them. Hendrik knows now that this was the time Jasper had spent plotting to betray them. They know Carnelian is a fake and all sorts of other nifty info, but it's hard addressing any of it when Jasper still feels the way he feels, but there's not much he can do.

Does Jasper go to "Carnelian" and try to convince him that he knows what happens in the future? I'm more inclined to say Jasper waits (again) and in the meantime, he and Hendrik are readjusting to knight life (haha). The royal life is lavish, yet there's an air of tension between them, an air of urgency.

I feel like Jasper and Hendrik have a lot of trouble confronting each other. But at some point, someone has to crack. It's essentially both of you against the world, after all.

I imagine there's a scene where Hendrik finally manages to forgive Jasper for alllll the shit that happened, and there's slow dancing at a ball. (Could you imaaaagiiine... forgiveness. (I had to 😭))

So, relationship building happens, yada yada, until Mordegon makes an early move and both of them have to make a decision again. (And hopefully that time Jasper makes the right choice.)

Thanks for the ask. I enjoyed writing it. I don't know about you but now I kinda want to read these? At least the second one, definitely.

#ask game answers #tysm for the ask i always appreciate them (send moar lol) #henjasp #DQXI #hendrik #royal au #time travel au #time loops #DQXI spoilers #death tw #tropes matched up! #long post

[crazynekochan]

Dangan Persona AU

Palace #7

Ruled by Makoto Naegi.

Captive is Mukuro Ikusaba (held captive in cell; will be executed for her crimes in the alternate reality if not rescued in time; picked very much the worst day to dress as Junko).

Shadow manifests as Makoto but wearing a creepy long black cloak, like he is the judge, jury and executioner (which he is), who turns into a 4-armed angel, one wielding a shield, the other a huge revolver (like truth bullets), and the 2nd pair holding up the weight of the world’s hope on his shoulders as a shining globe that seems to get heavier as the battle progresses. It’s also immune to Curse skills, which is rather unfortunate because that’s what everyone was betting on it having since Lincoln (and therefore Makoto)’s weak to Curse skills.

Palace is Hope’s Peak as ala the first game but much more pastel, with the walls instead draped in soft silk, light shining down in jarring contrast to the giant metal plates over the windows. It gives everyone the creeps, especially when the 2nd half starts with much more blood and gore appearing on the pristine sheets and floors.

As a little peep to the next palace, this is also where they get a glimpse of a Shadow Nagito. The original had gotten curious and just barely went a bit into the Metaverse. He managed to get out right away, but not before causing his shadow to be spotted tending to a strange memorial garden of class 78 before vanishing.

Finally after frankly too many puzzles, they arrive at the midway point of Mukuro’s show trial at a near exact replica of the red door to the trial grounds. They open up and find the elevator, but what is much more relevant is the metric fuckton of Junko photos and Monokuma memorabilia all over the room, almost all of them horrifically destroyed in rage, aimed at the faces in particular. Since Mukuro was dressed as Junko the day she got abducted (Junko had a scheduling issue and made Mukuro dress as her for class, even though no one else really bought it), this makes everyone rightfully very nervous and reluctantly head down, despite the sick feelings roiling in everyone’s stomachs, because they’re not gonna like this. And nope, they didn’t like it at all.

They came out to see the trial already underway, 2 large stands loaded with masked figures to the sides of the room and a high circle of 15 podiums surrounding Mukuro, chained into a kneeling position as the Judges gazed down upon her. The party looks up to see them, and finds something rather strange. On one side are 9 funerary portraits on raised poles, with the 6 judges in black robes in front of them, all focused on Mukuro. The Judges are cognitive versions of the DR1 survivors, all looking much worse for wear (cognitive Hiro looks exhausted, cognitive Hina is silently sobbing with a funerary portrait of Sakura in her hands, even cognitive Kyoko looks like she was in mourning), with Shadow Makoto in the center as the chief Justice. It’s right at the ending of the trial, and Mukuro is declared guilty for conspiracy to end the world, to the disgust and horror of the crowd.

Mukuro tries to argue, saying that this must be a mistake, they have the wrong person. Shadow Makoto tells her that no, they know full well who she is, Mukuro Ikusaba (full name, no honorifics). He continues, telling her, in no uncertain terms, all of the crimes he knows of from the alternate timeline committed by the Ultimate Despair. “And to prevent that from occurring, we must tear the despair out, root and stem. Junko would be nothing without her little cronies, after all. What better way to end this right now than by her dearest sister’s death, leaving her powerless?” Then the Shadow has her trapped inside of a cage and sent down to the dungeons to await her execution, before the party can help her.

The rest of the palace works in a similar way to the first half, but everything goes into straight up horror movie territory. Like they were creeped out before, but now it was fucking all sorts of terrifying. It’s pretty much an amalgamation of all of Makoto from the other timeline’s trauma and survivors guilt from the first game. This part of the palace also has a bunches of minibosses that they have to fight through in the second half because holy crap, those things are fucking horrific. The minibosses are all the souls lost to the killing school life and it is very much not pretty. Sayaka covered in blood impaled with knives; Leon tied to a pole, pummeled to a pulp, chucking bloody baseballs; Chihiro with his head bashed in, using a mess of cables and screens to interact with the world; Mondo as a hellish biker that seems to be melting; Taka the terrifying sergeant with his head bleeding; Hifumi with his head bashed in as well, using his horrific Junji Ito-style magical girl drawings for attacks; a thing so burnt and smashed up that they could only identify her as Celeste because of the twin drills; Sakura as a silent warrior, constantly coughing up poison and blood. Even a makeshift “Mukuro”, hardly able to move from all the spears through her body. Holy crap, did that freak everyone out and make them very glad when they next saw their friends again at dinner because they’re alive!

The time limit this time is because Shadow Makoto, while being a twisted mess of repressed anger, sadness, and misery, is also fundamentally a good person and doesn’t want to kill Mukuro before she had even done anything, even though he knows that she’s guilty as sin of conspiring to destroy the world and everything in it (in the canon timeline). That’s actually where the party comes in, because by the time they clear the palace, the Shadow had finally decided that it was now or never and he needed to do this now. When they rush in to stop him, that’s when the boss fight starts.

The fight is genuinely hard as hell and the Shadow isn’t holding back. The attacks are all similar to the various minigames from DR1, just with a Persona flair. Makoto’s providing as much support as he can without being able to control his own persona, with the Shadow lashing out every time that Makoto offers his emotional support. Eventually, they notice that the giant ball of hope is getting heavier to the point of nearly crushing Makoto, who’s holding up the globe like Atlas holding the sky. His Shadow’s about ready to cry, begging the others to stop as Makoto encourages them all to keeping fighting and to not give up now. The battle only stops when they finally get Makoto to confess that he’s not always the bright ball of sunshine that they think he is and that even he needs help sometimes. With that resolved, the shadow returns to being Makoto’s persona, now instead of Lincoln, he is Logos (basically the closest to Jesus as I can get without making an even bigger mess in the MegaTen universe)

[Holy shit, I feel like I wrote a whole novel here! I’m ending this here, good night!}

---

Mod: The design for Makot's shadow is so flipping awesome. It’s so fitting for Makoto considering that he’s the main speaker during the class trials (cause MC and all) and this is literally a trial his shadow is holding, with the shields and revolver in each hand. Though my favourite is him holding up the worlds hope like Atlas with the sky, cause it’s still my favourite part of his character development that he admits in the DR3 anime that he’s sometimes really overwhelmed with always having to be positive as the Ultimate Hope but still keeps it up for ever (and as entertaining the anime was, it was one of the only good things it did story wise, but that’s a different topic altogether...)

The palace must be so disturbing for the party, cause up until now every palace was basically a fantasy place representing something of the person’s life/personality. But now they are in a twisted and later on gory version of their own school, and still don’t know anything of the past timeline. But things are starting to get unravelled now. Though most disturbing must be the memorial garden for their very much alive friends. The fact that the survivors, who were not among the memorial photos, are the judges who look like they experiences something very awful and traumatic. Not to mention the tons of destroyed Junko photos

That the minibosses are the victims in an all horror like fashion, where I’m imagining something along the lines of DR3 anime with Makoto’s despair hallucination, must be so brutal cause these are literally the “corpses” of their friends that are attacking them, who are in this timeline alive and happy

I can only imagine how hard it must have been for everyone to see how Makoto’s shadow actually is, which is basically being overwhelmed with all the support he has to give all the time. Cause everyone does lean a lot on Makoto (not that leaning on people is bad, but there is a limit how much one person can handle, even for Makoto)

#submission #danganronpa #dangan persona au #makoto naegi #friendlylifecherry

[will-gayham]

Is Will Graham Self Aware?

If we don’t recognize Will’s self awareness over his Becoming and his love for Hannibal, we’re suggesting that Will is borderline delusional, incapable of setting boundaries, and unendingly indecisive but passive along the course he’s given. Perhaps love is blinding, but I’m going to talk about some times where he likely just worked in his own self interest instead.

There are two other posts that I think explain Will’s motivations well that I drew from, this one about how he doesn’t believe in free will, and this one that shows the reciprocity between Hannibal and Will. Therefore, he might be terrified of the thought of siding with Hannibal but give in to the inevitability anyway, and he might love Hannibal but need to reciprocate the violence that has been done unto him to be equal first.

season 2:

Despite his fantasies, Will does not kill Hannibal out of righteous violence when he has the opportunity out of the hospital. He was fine to kill Randall and (attempt) Ingram in similarly unplanned, sketchy circumstances (i.e. Ingram didn’t get convicted but Will still tried to pull the trigger, and he was going to be charged on Randall’s death in the end, risking his loss of freedom again). Either he’s somehow convinced himself that he’s still an effective upholder of the law, or he doesn’t actually want Hannibal dead or perhaps wants Hannibal specifically to be incarcerated for reasons of reciprocity rather than justice ones.

When in private with Hannibal, he is extremely candid about his murderous proclivities in what seems like excessive therapy appointments and dinners and work shifts together. A… suspiciously dedicated acting performance if it is a manipulation, but we see in his alone time that it is very much affecting him. This is the same man who refused to kill the person that stabbed him and chose a life of teaching because he was worried about Becoming. Either he’s sitting there essentially like ‘hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me!’ when it is clearly too late or he’s exploring his own darkness in full seriousness.

As for who he was siding with, Will spent months in jail trying to convince everyone that Hannibal is Hannibal and by “Yakimono”, Jack seems to believe him. Alana’s reaction at the world's most awkward dinner party™ is enough to show how suspicious it is that Will would forgive and believe Hannibal after everything. My personal favourite interpretation of the Freddie Lounds attack scene is that it’s completely Will’s imagination, what he wanted to do to her when in reality she was probably just brought to Jack’s desk and told the plan (why traumatize her for no reason? She would have written all about it!). There is all the possibility that he would have killed Jack in the end and gone with Hannibal (“Didn’t I?”). Either Will just plagued with indecision for the entire time or he was going along with the plan that would keep him out of suspicion and able to work with Hannibal behind the scenes.

season 3:

Will runs after Hannibal to Europe, angsting over his regret and longing for his “perfect world” alternative. He tells Jack that he wanted to run away with Hannibal, he tells Pazzi he doesn’t know who’s side he’s on and doesn’t deny what Alana is suggesting about seeing past Hannibal’s worst. These are all people that hate Hannibal, and Will isn’t gaining anything, especially not trust, by admitting his affection for Hannibal. He is also uncooperative with the police and goes off on his own to find Hannibal, therefore ruling out the idea of capturing Hannibal (at least right now). His options seem to be either to kill Hannibal or to run away with him, knowing he can’t get over him otherwise. He seems to attempt the killing option (unless he had only meant to scar Hannibal back?) perhaps because of his need to reciprocate. Either he’s half-heartedly trying to assassinate Hannibal (really? a small knife in public? *Chilton voice* ‘flirtation!’) despite being plagued with all these complicated feelings or he’s aware of the intimately personal nature of his ways to deal with Hannibal.

Will then loses his autonomy and spends a while tied up or drugged so it’s hard to deduce his thoughts until he breaks up with Hannibal. He later says “the only way you’d turn yourself in was if I rejected you” suggesting it was a plan of his, potentially a way to reciprocate for the time Hannibal put him in the hospital. If Will doesn’t believe in free will, he may believe in the inevitability of getting an opportunity to break Hannibal out just like Hannibal did for him, or at the very least hope he lives in that universe timeline. This might be why he’s so sour in the beginning of the “Wrath of the Lamb” when he ‘drops the mic’, he doesn’t see his chance yet. His voice sounds weak when he says “I like my life there (...) Molly and I want it to be the same.” When Will returns to say “pretty please”, his attitude is completely different, he’s energized and sly and smiley, practically glowing.

Backtracking, in s3e08, Will first goes to the Red Dragon crime scene and uses his empathy/imagination as effectively as we’ve seen in the past, but then goes to Jack and says he needs to visit Hannibal to get in the “mindset” again. Hannibal accuses Will of “just [coming] to look at [him], get the old scent”, and when Hannibal suggests that the Red Dragon is disfigured, Will half-heartedly pretends he hadn’t thought of that already (”that’s interesting”), which Hannibal calls him out for, too (“That's not interesting. You thought of that before”). Either he’s conveniently forgotten the effect that Hannibal has on him and convinced himself that he needs help on the case, which is questionable, or Will is truly there to see Hannibal.

Hannibal hints that he’s sent the Red Dragon after Will’s “ready-made” family, admitting he knows them and saying “they’re not my family, Will. I’m not letting them die, you are.” Will has been able to predict every other person who has been attacked by Hannibal (Beverly, Jack, Alana, Pazzi), but not the ones who Hannibal practically admits to? Returning to Hannibal after visiting Molly in the hospital, Will’s anger doesn’t linger and it’s arguably an intimate scene, standing in the dark, whispering about his “change”, their reflections overlapping. This is when Will realizes that the Red Dragon thinks he can do “anything”, even break Hannibal out of jail. Either Will is suddenly misunderstanding Hannibal but going along with him anyway, or Will is understanding of their plan and not particularly attached to Molly and Walter, maybe even likes the jealous attention from Hannibal (”Your experience of Hannibal's attention is so profoundly harmful, yet so irresistible”).

I don’t think I need to convince anyone that Will was purposefully breaking Hannibal out of the hospital. Can I just cite his eyebrow thing? Anyway, “it sounds weak to you, even as you say it”, the apathy at seeing police killed, going with Hannibal so easily. Either he needs to just retire because this plan crashed and burned bad or he wants to break Hannibal out of the hospital.

Of course, the interesting debate here is what his secret cliffside plan was. Either run away with Hannibal or finally kill him. “The bluff is eroding,” “soon all of this will be lost to the sea,” very well may be a plan admission. Will does not help Dolaryhyde kill Hannibal, he does not sit back and watch Hannibal die, he does not ensure his death with a fatal wound in the end.  Will and Hannibal survive together, either he just happened to survive and went with it idk his life is so absurd already might as well just become a murder husband since it fell in his lap? Or it was by Will’s own volition and assent that he runs away with Hannibal.

Conclusion: 

Will struggles to think rationally around Hannibal, it’s true, and he doesn’t make... great decisions, but I don’t think fans give him enough credit sometimes. He’s a criminal mastermind, a professor at the FBI, one of the best special investigators out there, and a master manipulator in his daily life. He struggles with the dark urges inside of him, perhaps yearns for a normal life instead, but is fully aware of them nonetheless. We can argue that Will is a hot mess, blinded by love, is borderline delusional in his self-denial and is riddled with indecisiveness for years but that he keeps on making bad decisions despite it and letting the current of his weird life take him along passively -- or we can recognize that he might have always been acting on his personal goals. His personal goals include exploring his Becoming and making things equal (reciprocal) with Hannibal and would empower him away from being just another victim. 

#Hannibal #Hannibal meta #hannigram #meta #long post #m

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Playing House Part 3 (Humor, Romance), Rated T. Full on Sylki hijinks, as promised!

Masterlist of my Sylki fanfics here.

---

The first thing she does when Thor leaves is Google herself. Apparently, she was a child actor and made a fortune there, before transitioning into modelling, and later into a successful influencing career.

"That makes perfect sense to me", Loki comments. "If I was not a prince, I would have chosen to be an actor too. Just imagine, legions of fans screaming your name, begging for your attention for just one moment, hanging onto your every word, willing to worship the very ground you walk on. Now, that is the dream." He pauses, cherishing the image in his head. "There's also the money. Looks like you and I will never have to work a day in our lives. We can just live off your money."

[[MORE]]

Sylvie feels the muscles in her laws instinctively tense. This is not her life, or her reality. She can't imagine spending eternity here. She looks at Loki sternly. "We can not. We have to return to the TVA."

"Yes, of course." He agrees immediately. A part of him likes this life. But another part of him knows there is never a gain without a loss. The universe finds a way to make him pay for every bit of happiness he ever gets. Who knows what the price may be if he chooses to stay, with his family, and with Sylvie right here?

Sylvie sets down the laptop on the bedside table, ignoring the danger of Loki's glass being knocked over and drenching it. She cannot let herself be concerned with such simple things. Ignoring them is the surest way to covince herself she hates it here. "I was wondering, if Thor can get into this town, and if he remembers us leaving this town in the past, does it mean we are free to leave?"

Loki studies her features, the resolute glint in her eyes and the defiant stance of her chin. It is clear that she will stop at nothing to get back to the TVA. "We should test it out." He says, trying to sound as calm as possible. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Maybe we can go to Oklahoma? See my supposed parents?" She attempts to play it off like it's nothing, even though she knows exactly what it means- temptation. The urge to see what this life looks like is ever-growing.

"Why can't we go to Asgard and see my parents instead?" He counters immediately.

Sylvie purses her lips, trying not to reveal her emotions. She doesn't remember her Odin or Frigga at all. A part of her longs to meet this version of them, but another part wonders how overwhelming it would feel, watching Loki occupy her place, have her life, her "parents" in this timeline. "Fine. How about we pick a neutral location first?"

"Fine." He replies curtly.

"Fine!" Her irritation escalates. She grabs the laptop again, opening up a tab to a travel website, ready to book a flight.

"LA?" He suggests.

"You just want the paparazzi attention, don't you?" She points out, but doesn't resist. "Alright."

September 1st. The date is set. They will be off to LA within three days, and if whatever being that has placed them here does not want them to leave, they will know by then.

---

"Do you really need all of these sunglasses?" Sylvie asks, after Loki stashes the fifth one in his backpack.

"Of course, I do." He defends. "Style? Remember?"

"Travelling light, remember?" She hits back, taking out two random pairs and throwing them back on her dresser. "Just take what you absolutely need."

"I absolutely need my sunglasses." He says stubbornly.

She can either give in on this trivial matter, or she can dig her heels in and fight it out with him. A stupid pair of sunglasses is not worth the effort. "Fine." And in return, there's something that he has to compromise for her as well. "Only if you help me get my swords past security."

"With pleasure." He says with a grin, and with a wave of his hand, the newly arrived swords from eBay are magically cloaked.

Sylvie looks at her own luggage. She has never really owned anything. She jumped from one apocalypse to another, with only her life, and sometimes food supplies for a few days. It feels surreal to look at the clothes in her wardrobe now. The thought of carrying them with her feels even more foreign.

She looks at the tons of products on her dresser, skin creams, lotions, toners, cleansers and heaven knows what else. All the luxuries she never had.

All the luxuries she does not want.

"I'll just pack a change of clothes." She says finally.

"You don't want anything else?" He asks, surprised.

"These are just things, Loki." She explains. "They can be replaced. I have no attachment to them."

---

She regrets not booking first class. She has been on planes before, using crashing aircrafts as a temporary hideout spot to regroup when the TVA was on her tails. As a stowaway, she never realized just how annoying a plane journey can actually be.

Loki graciously offers her the window seat, noting her unease as soon as they board. She thanks him with a smile, and they nod in mutual understanding.

She stares out of the window, at the town that is supposedly her home, and for the first time ever, she feels a pang of homesickness for a place that is not Asgard. She has been here for just five days now, yet, the thought of sleeping in her own bed is so tempting.

Sylvie notices how she is thinking of the bed as her bed now, but tries not to dwell on it too much.

The plane takes off without incidence, and she dozes off quickly. When she wakes up, she notices a thin comforter wrapped around her shoulders. Turning to her side, she sees Loki sleeping as well, his mouth slightly agape. She snuggles close to him, suddenly needing the comfort of his warmth, and the woman on the aisle seat gives her a dirty look. There's a baby crying somewhere in the back, and what feels like the beginning of a massive headache. But all that fades away when she lays her head on his shoulder.

---

When the flight arrives at LAX, they are both a little scared to leave its comfort. They are about to find out if they are free to travel wherever they want, or whether the action had any consequence. Sylvie is the first to take a step out, and they are both relieved to see nothing happens. The baggage claim goes smoothly, though slowly, and they get a cab quickly. Sylvie hides her grin when she sees Loki put on his sunglasses.

"So we're here." He says, staring at Sylvie, while she stares out of the window.

She only hums in response.

"Is this your honeymoon?" The driver asks.

Loki laughs nervously. "No, no. We've been married for quite a long time. This is just... a vacation."

The driver recommends them a lot of tourist places. Sylvie tunes him out. This is just a test. She has no interest in touring LA. They have their return flight scheduled for the next day.

They check into their hotel room, and she plops down on the bed immediately. "It seems we are free to leave the town. Just not the reality, I suppose." She runs her hands over the silky sheets, amused. "I must say, whoever placed us here has taken every measure to make this prison comfortable."

Loki follows suit and takes a seat beside her. "I suppose that is indeed generous of him. Or her."

Sylvie turns to the side to look at him. "So how do we get out of here then? Got any plan?"

He shrugs. It's not like there's a book called What to do when you find yourself trapped in an alternate universe with your alternate self for Dummies. "Right now, the plan is to get some dinner, then some sleep. Then perhaps in the morning we can see a bit of LA?"

"You want to play tourist?" She asks in a neutral tone.

He replies in kind, testing the waters. "We are here already, and we have the time, so why not?"

"Okay." She replies, a little unsure, but not entirely opposed to the idea. The weariness of the journey starts taking its toll on her. She messages her temples with her fingertips. "Should we order room service?"

Loki contemplates for a moment. On the one hand, she looks really tired, and she could use a good night's sleep. On the other hand, she has been completely on edge and razor focused on the mission since they got in this mess. Well, since they met, actually, and probably for centuries before that. She could also use a bit of fun and relaxation.

With that in mind, he carefully voices his proposal. "I was thinking maybe we can go down to the restaurant and have a proper dinner."

Sylvie looks up, grinning mischievously. She's about to call his bluff. "What, like a date?" His deer-in-the-headlights reaction makes her laugh. "Calm down, I'm just teasing you."

---

It's not a date, but it kind of is. It's a four course meal and a fine bottle of champagne over candlelight, after all.

"Was it like this? Back at Asgard?" Sylvie wonders.

"Mostly. But Asgard was grand, elegant. This is..."

"A cheap replacement." She completes.

Loki smiles. "Precisely."

They talk about their Asgard bedrooms, the similarities and the differences between their safe haven in the palace. An hour passes swiftly.

"The wine is good." Sylvie comments, sipping on her first glass of wine, when the champagne is drained.

"Yes, quite good." Loki agrees, on his first glass as well.

The tiniest buzz starts to take root in him, and his mind wanders into the realm of possibilities, the future he can have, here and now. His eyes focus on the brighest object in front of him- Sylvie.

She feels her cheeks flush under his gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You are just so..." He blinks. What is another word for Asgard's Sun when it disappears into the azure lakes? "Breathtaking"

Her lips curve into a shy smile. This is the beginning of the same foolishness he showed on the train in Lamentis-1 that almost got them killed. But right now, their life isn't in imminent danger. Right now, she is just amused. "Wow, you really can't hold your liquor, can you?"

"Of course I can. I am Loki, Prince of Asgard." He declares proudly.

"Yes, yes, I've heard the speech." She says it with a smile and an eye-roll. "We should get you upstairs."

He objects immediately. "But I'm not done yet."

"Oh, I think you're quite done." She beckons the nearest waiter. "Can we get the bill, please?"

He can still walk surprisingly well, but she holds his hand tightly, just in case he decides to take a detour, and drags him into the elevator.

"Blonde looks good on you." He comments out of the blue. "Maybe I should go blonde too."

She grins. "Like Thor?"

He glares at her. "You're a buzzkill."

---

Sylvie opens the door after fumbling with the keys for a minute. She is starting to feel the effect of the alcohol as well. She takes off her shoes and her earrings, while Loki runs to the loo.

"Why did you book a room for two?" He asks in a serious tone, leaning against the door-frame of the bathroom.

Sylvie freezes, her hand hanging mid-air for five uncomfortable seconds before she awkwardly drops it to her side.

Why did she book a room for two? She could have just rented separate rooms, or at least ones with separate beds. It's not like she and Loki are actually together.

But they have been. At least for the past few days. Why do they need separate rooms here when they share a bed back home?

Home. Sylvie realises with alarm that she's thinking of her prison as her home.

Is this reality starting to mess with her mind now?

"It's okay, I don't want to leave you either." Loki's voice pulls her out of her inner monologue. She turns around quickly in his direction. He's still drunk, and it shows, but he has a look on his face that she has never seen before- a mix of resolution and fondless. His eyes whisper silent vows of loyalty, and something else, something he can't quite express yet. "I will never leave you."

Sylvie smiles, closing the distance between them and standing next to him. Her hand finds his by sheer instinct. "Good to know."

"I mean it, Sylvie." He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, before he tugs her along with him as he sits down on the bed, unable to stand any longer in his inebriated state. She is grateful to be seated too, and she's unsure whether it is just the alcohol. "I know you hate it here. But I like this." He indicates at her, then at himself, then back at her. "I like falling asleep next to you, and walking into the kitchen first thing every morning to see you cursing at the microwave. I like how you hum in the shower and scream at the TV."

Sylvie listens quietly, her eyes focused on the feeling of his hand in hers. She is trying to memorize this moment, burn the shape of his fingers and the feel of his touch into her brain, so that when it's gone- when he is gone- like everything in her life always is, she will have another good memory to relive again and again.

Loki continues. "I like the way you burn the pasta every time you try to cook."

"I don't burn the whole dish." She retorts playfully. "Just the bottom part."

He shakes his head to show he disagrees. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Her heartbeat quickens. Is he going to confess that he has feelings for her?

Does he have feelings for her?

"Sure." She barely whispers back.

Loki double-checks. "Promise me that you will never tell yourself?"

She laughs softly. "I promise."

Loki tenses, suddenly looking sober. He lets go of her hand, to rest his by his side, his fingers clenched into a fist. Mastering all his courage, he finally speaks. "I don't want to leave. Ever. I like it here."

Sylvie looks away, suddenly needing air. Hearing Loki say that makes her feel irrationally angry. He promised to be on her side every step of the way, but the minute he finds a life he likes, he's ready to throw in the towel.

A part of the anger stems from the fact that she knows, a major reason he wants to stay is her, this life he has with her. Two Lokis on any other timeline will cause Nexus events. But here, they are free to be together. Timelines don't start branching off like a growing vine on timelapse video every time they touch. And he wants that. She knows this because he has all but said it with his words and his actions.

And because she wants it too. Damn it, she wants it so much. She is getting sucked into this reality, indeed.

But she knows she has to finish what she started- she owes it to herself, and to the people out there who need her help, who will be robbed of their lives if she doesn't stop whoever is doing this.

She wants to-

- But she can't.

"Loki, I-" she stops when she turns around to see he has already fallen asleep. Wordlessly, she wraps the comforter over his sleeping form, before crawling under it herself. Turning to her side, facing away from him, she wonders what's next for them.

#loki disney+ #loki x sylvie #sylvie x loki #pro sylki #sylki #sylki fanfic #fanfiction