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leaphia · 8 months

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uh uh uh OC questions!! hehehe yesss >:] For Sookie 30. Who do they most regret meeting? For Aaron 21. Why do they get up in the morning? For Noah 27. What causes them to feel dread? For Tristan 28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? And for Astrid 34. How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt? And for you of course (and any or all of them) H) What trait of theirs do you admire most? :>

Waaaaah thank you so much for all the questions! ;v; <3

This will be quite long omg

Sookie - Who do they most regret meeting?

Aside from like half her classmates back in high school, who were bullying her for being "the weird comic book geek" I'd say… Aaron. He's not only the type of villain who embodies everything she hates (arrogance, possessiveness, narcissism, etc.) after their first encounter he wouldn't leave her alone anymore. He's planning any kind of evil schemes to lure her into a trap, to catch her attention and to eventually "make her his", as he developed a crush on her. And Sookie gets incredibly mad and annoyed by him, as the only one she really loves is Noah…

Aaron - Why do they get up in the morning?

There was a time when the only thing that would get him out of bed were his inventions and robots, he could tinker on. Now he has other reasons like his cat Giselle, who he wants to care for. (He loves her very much <3) And (as weirdly as this sounds looking at the previous question) another reason would be Shelter/Sookie and their encounters. It's the only thing that really excites him and lets him forget about his "boring" life. (As already mentioned, he has a crush on her and since he never felt like this to anyone before he wants to... "explore" these feelings.)

Noah - What causes them to feel dread?

There isn't much that Noah is scared of… except Spiders. If he has to fight a bunch of giant spiders I guess he would die of fear immediately xD But what would cause him to feel real dread is if Sookie or any other of his loved ones (his mother, his best friend) would be in danger, something that could threaten their life and he wouldn't be able to save them.

Tristan - Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?

No. He hates if somebody lies to him. And he rather wants to know the cruel reality than being under an illusion. (That doesn't mean that he hasn't lied himself before, he actually did lie to others if it was necessary xD)

Astrid - How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?

It's really really hard for her. If it's something grave she feels guilty for, she would lie awake at night, thinking about it and how she could make up for it. (the first night after she started working together with Tristan - a criminal in her eyes back then - she didn't sleep a wink)

What trait of theirs do you admire most?

Sookie - her kindness and will to help. She tries to see good in everyone. :>

Noah - his sarcasm xD And I think his tolerance and acceptance towards any kind of people? He puts others needs first instead of his own, for example he also accepts Sookie's boundaries and loves her for who she is <3

Aaron - His confidence. Even though some family issues and other bad sh*t that happened to him, he knows that he's of worth.

Tristan - Everything. Uhhh I think his patience. He can stay quite calm in stressful situations most of the time. ovo (Which is funny because contrary to his fire-magic-powers, he's not impatient or aggressive xD)

Astrid - Her determination. When she sets her mind on doing something, there's nothing that can stop her.

[OC Questions from here :>]

#ask game #hjdgrs thank you again for your interest! ;w;#Me while typing this: suddenly forgets any information about my OCs ever... why am I like this x'D #oc: sookie cantrell #oc: noah hale #oc: aaron sinclair #oc: tristan #oc: astrid #I feel like I overshared a bit. But what if someone needs to know this??#(sneaking a drawing of Shelter&Aaron in there which I never shared on here owo")#I would have loved to doodle something for every answer but that would be a lot xD #also look at me gushing about Sookie and Noah I'm sorry but I already love these beans so much

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awindylife-writes · 3 years

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Voyage of the Damned Part 3

Relationships: the Doctor x reader, Astrid x reader (platonic), Astrid x Doctor (platonic)

Summary: Voyage of the Damned rewrite. The Doctor and you find yourselves on the Titanic, space edition. You meet Astrid and get ready for a wonderful day, but then a meteor shower hits the ship and it starts falling towards Earth.

Author's notes: There was a number of things l didn't like about this Christmas special so again, l rewrote it.

Warnings: a ship crashes, multiple mentions of dearth bc a lot of people die, Astrid dies

"It's for the Doctor!" Astrid yelled at Midshipman Frame over the comms. She needed to teleport NOW. "Y/n and him are down on deck thirty-one, alone, against all the Host and Gods know what else and they're doing it for us!" Silence on the other end. "It's time we did something for them," she ended her speech with a finallity.

A moment passed and she feared she'd failed.

But then, "Giving you power," came through the comms.

"Only one person could have the power and the money to hide themselves on board like that. And l should know, 'cause..." the Doctor trailed off. You stared at the strange compartment you had found on deck thirty-one.

"My name is Max," a voice finished for him. A strange machine with a head in it came through the smoke.

"Who the hell are you?" it demaned.

"I'm y/n, and this is the Doctor," you pointed at your friend with false cheerfulness, "Hello!" you wiggled your fingers in greeting.

"You wreck the ship and the board find their shares halved in value." The Doctor was spelling out Capricorn's plan.

"But that's not enough," you interjected. From what you've learned about them, mad billionares who were losing all their money didn't do things half-way.

"Oh yes," the Doctor went on. "'Cause if a Max Capricorn ship hits the Earth, it destroys an entire planet. Outrage back home!" he growled. "Scandal! The buisness is wiped out!"

The billionare's head nodded. "And? The whole board is thrown in jail, for mass murder!" His eyes shone with revenge.

"While you sit here, safe in the- what's it called?" you turned to the Doctor.

"Impact camber," he filled in.

"I have men," Capricorn gloated now, "waiting to retreave me from the ruins. And enough off-world accounts to retire me to the beaches of Enhaxico Two where the ladies, so l'm told, are very fond of... metal."

You were going to puke.

"So that's the plan," the Doctor growled in rage. "A retirement plan. Two thousand people on this ship, six billion underneath us, all of them slaughtered and why? Because Max Capricorn is a loser."

"I never lose," the billionare's head scowled in threat and your voice immediately rang out, mocking, "You can't even sink the Titanic!"

"Oh but l can, pretty girl!" he laughed. "I can cancel the engines, from here!" Red lights and alarms were suddenly flaring everywhere before you could spit in his face.

The Doctor yelled behind you, "You can't do this!"

"Host, hold them!" Caprocorn ordered in turn and began the Gloat 2.0. "Not so clever now, are you? Shame we couldn't work together, you two are rather good. All that banter and yet not a word wasted." The head sighed. "Time for me to... retire."

Ugh, you thought as you furiously tried to get free. That pun alone would be enough to kill a buisness.

"The Titanic is falling, the sky will burn, let the Christmas inferno commence!" Capricorn yelled in victory and called his minions. "Kill them!"

The robots brought up their halos and went for the Doctor's neck.

"NO!" You fought with everything you had but you were late, you'd be too late!

"MISTER CAPRICORN!" a voice you knew cut through your fear.

And it ignited terror. It was Astrid, sitting in a forklift. "I resign," she told the head and drove forward, ful throttle.

"NO!" the Doctor and you screamed, "ASTRID STOP!" "ASTRID DON'T!"

She didn't listen and rammed into the life support system, but its engine was too strong. They were equal and couldn't move each other.

You bit, kicked and screamed, anything to get free.

But then she caught your eyes with hers and everything stopped. There was an eternity in her face. She looked at the Doctor too but you still stared at her.

Then she turned away and stepped on it. The life support lifted and she drove on.

There was no sound. The world was mute as you watched Astrid go over.

You were suddenly at the edge, looking at her disappear into the fire. Someone was screaming. Someone was screaming and you wanted to calm them, help them.

Then you realized it was your own voice.

The world came back into focus. The ship was falling apart and the Doctor was silent at your side. He was staring at the spot where Astrid had disappeared. His face was pale and his eyes blank. You laid your tears aside and took his hand.

"We need to go," you told him, your voice wet with tears. He didn't move.

"Doctor, we need to go," you told him again calmly. You thought that was why he looked at you suddenly, and then stood up.

He rewired a Host with lightning speed. It took you each under one arm and off you went.

When you broke through the ceiling of the bridge, you were still in one piece. Arms you had used to shield your head were a bit bloody and you were sure there were at least two splinters in them. You don't look the gift horse in the mouth, even though you would prefer a different Christmas miracle.

"What's your first name?" the Doctor asked the injured Midshipman Frame.

He answered in confusion, "Alonzo."

"You're kidding," the Doctor breathed as a shocked smile spread on his face. You didn't know. You just didn't know anymore. You were drowing in the emptiness inside you but his name was Alonzo.

"Allons-y, Alonzo!" the Doctor yelled and you held on tight. You didn't scream. You didn't even open your mouth. There was nothing anymore.

The Doctor whoohooed when he managed to right the course of the ship and you were just there. Were you there? Astrid wasn't. And that was what mattered in the end.

"TELEPORT!" the Doctor yelled and it didn't matter. "Y/N, SHE WAS WEARING A TELEPORT BRACELET!!!"

That woke you up. You ran faster than ever before, to the main deck where the teleport was.

"Brixton, sonic," the Doctor demanded from the billionare and caught it as it was thrown. "Mister Copper, the teleports, have they got an emergency setting??"

"I don't know, they should have?"

"She fell, Mister Copper, she fell!" the Doctor told him while pulling apart the machine like a madman. "What's the emergency code?"

The billionare interjected, "What the hell are you doing?"

"We can bring her back!" you yelled with everything in you.

The historian explained, "If a passenger has an accident on shore leave, their molecules are automatically suspended so they're in stasis, so if you just trigger the shift..."

"THERE!!!" the Doctor screamed and flicked the switch.

And there was your Astrid.

"Falling..." You could hear her voice!

"Only halfway there, come on!" The Doctor wasn't finished with the teleporter.

"I keep falling!" She was scared. Your friend was scared and you wanted nothing but to calm her. You carefully walked up to her and took hold of her hand. It felt like holding warm smoke.

There were tears on your cheeks already, again.

"If l can find the molecule grid, boost the restoration matrix and-" The computer snapped and threw sparks. "NO-NO-NO-NO-NO!!" the Doctor screamed in desparation, "need more phase containment-"

You sobbed, but you knew what was coming. You just looked at your Astrid Pith, into her crystal blue eyes and sushed her. "Hey, hey Astrid, it's alright. It's me, it's y/n, remember? You're alright. l've got you," you promised with a voice as soft as sunlight.

She didn't look as scared as before. Then, so slowly you thought you were imagining it, she looked at you.

"Let her go," you could hear the historian and you sobbed again.

But then Astrid's voice cut through. "Stop me falling?" she asked and you nodded. You found her gaze with yours and promised her, "Anything."

"She's just atoms," you heard Mister Copper from behind you. "An echo with a ghost of consciousness."

"She's stardust," you concluded as your voice broke. "You hear that Astrid?" you asked, still looking into her blue eyes."You're stardust."

She didn't seem to hear, so you did the only thing you could think of.

"There's an old tradition," you told her and softly kissed her cheek. Then you kissed the other, and then her forehead.

"You dreamt of traveling," the Doctor came to stand beside you. You were still sobbing when you pulled away from her and you didn't try to stop. There was no one there you needed to save face for.

"Now you can travel forever," you told her. You knew what the Doctor would do, and your eyes didn't leave hers for a moment.

You heard him soothe her, "You're not falling Astrid."

"You're flying," you both said in one voice.

You watched as she floated away, through the window into the universe.

Then you turned to the Doctor and buried your face in his chest as you both cried.

"I transferred all my shares to Max Capricorn's rivals. It's made me rich," the billionare Brixton admitted, disbelieving.

You were empty, and you were tired. That was the only reason why you didn't tear this man limb from limb. Astrid was dead.

"Mister Copper," the Doctor's voice woke you up. "I think, you deserve one of these."

You turned around and saw him holding a teleport bracelet out to the historian. Then, after the latter took it, he slipped one on your wrist. He took your hand and suddenly you were standing in the snow.

"But l can have a house, and a garden and-" You couldn't help but smile a little. At least Mister Copper would be alright.

The Doctor yelled after him, "Where are you going?"

"I have no idea!" the man replied in joy.

"Well, we don't either," your alien smiled gently at you and you tried to smile back, you really did. He looked at you, his brown eyes full of sorrow, and pulled you to him. You held onto him tightly as he hugged you.

"But! Y/N!" the historian yelled and you turned in his direction.

"I won't forget her," he promised you. You were tired, so so tired, so you just nodded. "Thank you," you told Mister Copper for her. "We won't either."

"We won't," the Doctor assured you softly, just to be sure.

Then he opened the TARDIS door and stepped into your home after you. You walked up the way and then stood in front of the controls, lost.

The Doctor walked up behind you and decided he would do anything, anything to keep away the blank look in your eyes. He turned to you and pulled you to him again. You let him, your movements sluggish and dazed.

"I've got you," he assured you. "I've got you, y/n. You aren't alone, and you aren't lost. You've got me." And that was enough. You sobbed into his chest, you didn't know for which time today.

But this was different. This was yours, and you clung to the Doctor as everything in you came to the surface.

His tears joined yours. He'd lost Astrid too, and he hated seeing you in pain. He slowly brought both of you down to kneel when you were too tired to stand.

And that was it. That was what you needed and that was what you had. You would be alright. In time, you would be alright.

#doctor who #doctorwho #doctor who x reader #doctorwho x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor #10th doctor #tenth doctor #doctor who fanfiction #doctorwho fanfiction #reader insert #astrid #astrid pith #astrid pith x reader

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pennamesmith · 3 years

Text

Return of the Skeletor

A family reunion. Find more Skeletor stories here!

Micah remembered the other world.

Most people could, in fact. The whole planet was affected. They’d all lived a life they thought was perfect. They’d all imagined something intangible. The memories were faded and fragmentary, like the recollection of a dream, but everyone was certain it had really happened.

Even if nothing that had happened was real.

At first Micah didn’t realize anyone else had shared in the dream. He’d lost track of time on Beast Island long ago, and when the collapsing portal closed around him he only assumed it was one of the despairing wasteland’s many tricks. He never had long to dwell on the matter, either. Soon after finding himself returned to reality (he could remember shouting to Angella, reaching for her, trying to tell her “I’m not dead!”) Micah had met the loud and unusual Princess Entrapta. And after her there came…

“She-Ra! It’s She-Ra!” a nasally voice shrieked.

Micah was startled out of his reverie by a sudden clattering of hooves. The door to his Bright Moon office burst inwards and he was presented with the sight of a breathless Swift Wind. Sitting astride the rainbow-winged unicorn was one of Entrapta’s bots, a lanky drone she’d named ‘Skeletor.’

“The time has come!” Skeletor said.

“It’s true!” Swift Wind confirmed. “I felt the sacred bond return just a minute ago. Adora and the others are back from Eternia! Darla is over the Whispering Woods right now!”

“What?” Micah jumped to his feet, abandoning his desk without a second thought. It was covered in a mountain of paperwork: royal records, his regent’s duties, and the calendar pages where he’d marked off every day since Glimmer and the rest of the Princess Alliance left for their dangerous mission to another universe. He rushed to the door where Swift Wind was standing.

Skeletor reached out and helped Micah onto the horse’s back. “Join hands as we bring together our mystic powers!” the robot cried. Once Micah was settled, Swift Wind turned and leapt out the nearest window. They sailed through the skies.

“What’s going on? Are they all right?” Micah asked, with undisguised worry.

Swift Wind banked, soaring over the tree line. “I’m not sure! The ship is under control but — look, there it is!”

Darla, the rebuilt First Ones ship, was descending rapidly from the sky over the treetops. Her flight was steady, but parts of the hull were damaged, and smoke trailed from one wing. Suddenly the ship lurched and plummeted into the trees, vanishing from sight. A plume of vegetation went flying as it plowed to a smouldering stop.

Micah felt his stomach twist. “We need to get closer!” he called out in a panic.

“I can take you there!” Skeletor declared, urging Swift Wind toward the ground. They touched down by the edge of a long path of smoking destruction that stretched deep into the woods.

“They must have landed near here,” Skeletor deduced, observing the massive trench in the ground. He hopped off the horse’s back and ran ahead, making anxious utterances as he went.

Micah dismounted and walked beside Swift Wind. “I hate this,” Micah confessed. “The staying behind, I mean. At least on Beast Island I was the only one I had to worry about, and I was in control of my own survival. But having to stand by while Glimmer goes into danger? I’m so proud of her, yet I’m also so scared.”

“I know what you mean,” Swift Wind answered. “I trust Adora, but I also worry about her, like, all the time. Whenever we’re apart I get so restless. I just feel powerless!”

“Sometimes letting them find their own way is all we can do,” Micah mused.

They came into a clearing in the woods. Darla was there, sparking and steaming but generally intact. Skeletor hammered on the door.

“Here, let me try to get you out!” he called.

Something inside the ship made a noise. There was a hiss and a jet of steam, and Skeletor tumbled backwards, landing with a squawk at Micah and Swift Wind’s feet. They all stared at Darla, holding their breath expectantly.

The front hatch of the spaceship popped open. Entrapta erupted out of it, tumbling down the landing ramp in a ball of frizzled hair. She pulled her goggles up.

“Aha! We made it!” she crowed, taking in her surroundings. “All in the right dimension and everything!”

She reached into the recesses of her hair and emerged with a haggard Hordak. “Your piloting saved us! I knew you could do it!” she told him proudly.

Hordak squinted through half-lidded eyes. “Is it over?” he muttered. “Are we still alive?”

“Yep!” Entrapta wobbled to her feet and gathered her partner up in her ponytails. “Now, let’s get you a checkup and some rest. You’ve had a stressful voyage!”

She suddenly seemed to notice the gathered onlookers. “Oh! Hi Skeletor. Hi Bird Horse. Hi Micah. Guess what? You’re gonna love this!” Entrapta turned back to the ship. “Safe to disembark, crew!” she yelled, before trotting off with Hordak.

“Now we’ll see how clever you are!” Skeletor said.

Mermista peeked around the door. “Ground!” she cried, throwing herself across the dirt in relief. “I never thought I’d miss you so much!”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad a flight,” Sea Hawk cajoled, helping her to her feet. “Why, I can think of a dozen — no, two dozen more harrowing trips I’ve taken in the Dragon’s Daughter XXVIII.”

“You fishmonger,” Skeletor scoffed.

Frosta was the next one out, followed closely by Perfuma and Scorpia. “Eternia was amazing!” the teenaged ice princess announced, brandishing a pair of frozen fists. “I got to punch so much stuff!”

“Come on, it wasn’t all violence,” Perfuma pleaded.

“Yeah, we learned a bunch about friendship and responsibility too,” Scorpia agreed.

“Punch! Punch!” Frosta said.

“You’re becoming evil, I can sense it!” Skeletor hummed approvingly. “Excellent!”

Catra and Adora came next, and they were accompanied by a young man Micah had never seen before. He had a pink shirt, bobbed blond hair, and bore an uncanny resemblance to Adora herself. A sword hung on his back. He blinked as he emerged into the light.

Swift Wind’s jaw dropped. “Adora! Is that…?”

“Hey guys!” Adora grinned sheepishly. “So, funny story. You remember how when I was a baby I was taken from a hidden First Ones faction that nobody has ever been able to find since?”

She held her hands out, presenting the newcomer. “Well, uh, we found ‘em! This is my twin brother, Adam!”

Adam smiled and waved. “Hello everybody,” he chirped.

“Brother?” Swift Wind sputtered.

“He-Man!” Skeletor bellowed.

The group fell into a chattering commotion, but Micah was hardly paying attention. Glimmer and Bow had appeared at the top of the ramp, holding each other as they looked out. Emotions that went beyond words swam in the young queen’s eyes.

Adora saw where Micah was looking and quickly pulled her brother away. “We’ll tell you the whole story later, sir! Trust me, it’s hilarious. Now come on, I gotta show you around Etheria, bro.”

“Sure thing, sis,” Adam replied, grinning hugely. They pounded their fists together, adding their own sound effects as they did so, and marched off laughing.

“They have been doing that the entire. Trip. Back,” Catra groaned, following close behind the pair. “Somebody save me.”

“You furry coward,” muttered Skeletor.

At the entrance to the ship, Glimmer and Micah hugged each other fiercely. When they finally broke, the old king could see that his daughter was smiling through her tears.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Glimmer sniffled. “So much happened. You wouldn’t believe how scary things got! Oh, but I totally had everything under control.”

“I know you did,” Micah smiled back. But he could tell there was more.

Glimmer’s face turned serious. “Dad,” she said shakily, tripping over her own words. “Listen. Entrapta’s theories about the other dimension were right. When we — I mean, didn’t know if…”

Bow stepped in. “Your highness, I think there’s someone you should see.” He beckoned gently. Still at a loss for words, Glimmer nodded and took her father’s hand, leading him inside the ship.

Micah’s heart was racing even before she rose from the chair and turned to face him. His breath caught when he saw the spreading wings, the shining light, the smiling face that he remembered so clearly.

Their eyes met. It was a miracle.

Just like on the island, a part of him couldn’t believe this was really happening. But it was.

They both reached out. They’d mourned each other once. Their hands met.

“Micah?” she asked, hardly believing it herself.

“Angie?”

Outside, both the princesses and their well-wishers had gathered around Adam, excitedly showing off the wonders of their planet. He gazed with delight at everything, marveling in the magical light of Etheria. His laugh brimmed with kindness.

Skeletor elbowed his way through the crowd. “I can’t let any of you delay me! Out of my way, now!” he jabbered. “This is no time for jokes!”

He made it to where Adora stood with her brother and glared. Adam turned in surprise, not sure what to expect. They stared at each other.

Skeletor held his arms wide. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment!” he cried. “Take this, He-Man!”

Then he lunged forward, and wrapped Adam in an enormous hug.

“He-Man, I am your friend!”

#spop #she ra fanfiction #skeletor #King Micah #Queen Angella #micangella #glimmer #prince adam #adora #swift wind #princess alliance #smith stuff

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Becoming A Stark (6)- Peter Parker x Stark!femReader

Word Count: 2785

Warnings: swearing

Author’s Note: Peter gets introduced finally!

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

Your dad made you take a few days off after the low blood sugar incident, so by the next Monday you are so ready to get back to school. Science and technology might not be your favorite topics, however MSST is great and it means you get to see your friends. Betty and Astrid are waiting for you when Happy drops you off on Monday. Pepper rode with you, because your choice was having her come with you or having Tony and you were not dealing with Tony Stark outside of your school again… The first day of school drama was enough of kids trying to get close enough to take pictures of him. But your dad was adamant that he wasn’t going to miss your first day. You shake the memory from your mind as Pepper gives you a hug. “If you need anything, you call me or Tony. Or Happy if you can’t reach us. Even if-”

“I’ll be fine. I could have come back last week and be fine. Dr. Cho said so.” You say with a smile. But you wrap your arms around Pepper and give her one more hug. “I love you.” You whisper and feel a little guilty that you said it to your dad’s girlfriend before you said it to your dad, but it felt right.

“I love you too.” Pepper says back. “Happy will be here for you when school finishes.” You turn to get out of the car when Pepper calls, “Lunch!” handing you the lunch box you almost forgot.

“Thanks Pepper! See you at dinner.” Ever since the conversation in the Med Bay, Pepper had been trying to make it home in time for dinner so that you, Tony and Pepper felt more like a family. Sure it had only been like five day, but it still was something you enjoyed on top of having the Avengers there when they weren’t on missions. You shut the door behind you and turned to be enveloped in a hug between your two best friends. “Guys I’m fine.”

“You missed almost an entire week because of a diabetic seizure. We’re allowed to be worried.” Betty states. It’s not the first time that diabetes has pulled you from school and Betty gets worried every time.

“I know, but I’m fine. Tony overreacted by making me stay home. Dr. Cho said I could have come back Wednesday, but Tony had me stay home the rest of the week because and I quote ‘I’m your dad I’m allowed to worry.’”

“STARK OVER HERE!” The paparazzi don’t know your first name, but they know the school you attend and have seen you out with Pepper and Tony in the few weeks since everything has been announced.

“Let’s get inside.” You say, not even looking towards the paps. Betty and Astrid follow you up the stairs and into MSST. You have a feeling that there will at least be a picture of Pepper dropping you off at school if not more on some gossip page. It’s not even that interesting. You go to school every day. Although, most days Tony or Pepper don’t come with you so maybe that’s why it’s interesting?

“Y/N watch out.” Betty’s warning comes too late. You crash into one of the most handsome people you’ve ever seen.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” You exclaim, expecting to hit the tile of the hallway.

“My fault. I should have been looking where I was walking.” Arms wrap around you to keep you from hitting the floor.

“Penis Parker crashing into Iron Man’s daughter. Now you’ll have all the Avengers after you!” A boy who you think is called Flash calls from across the hallway. The boy whose arms are around you takes a second look at you after hearing what Flash said.

“You’re Y/N Stark?”

“Fraid so.” You say scrunching your face ever so slightly. “I’m hoping your first name isn’t actually Penis though?”

“Peter. Peter Parker.” His face goes red as he helps stand you back up on your red converse feet.

“Well it was nice running into you Peter. Hopefully we don’t do that again soon though.”

“Your dad might sue me for damaging a Stark and I can’t afford that.” You can’t help but laugh at that.

“Yeah he might try, but I’d get Pepper to stop him before it got too crazy. Bye Peter.” You don’t wait for a response as you turn to follow Betty and Astrid towards your lockers. “What do we know about Peter Parker?” You ask Betty as you walk, knowing that if anyone knows anything it will be Betty.

“He’s a Sophomore. On the Decathlon team with Liz. I think he’s also in band and he’s on the robotic team.” Liz was one of the few upperclassmen Betty knew from one of the clubs she was in. You had sat with her at lunch thanks to Betty but you didn’t know how to feel about her. “You should ask Liz about him. See what she knows if you're interested in him.” Betty says with a smile. “Maybe Y/N can find a date to Homecoming.” She tosses to Astrid.

“Like Tony Stark will let me out of the house for Homecoming with anyone of the opposite gender? Doubtful. I’ll have better luck going with a girl or with a group of friends.” You say as you spin your locker combination. You dump your backpack and pull the books you need for the first half of the day.

“I think you could convince him. But if you don’t want to we can always pull a group together. It’ll be fun! It’s our first Homecoming!” Betty grabs her own books as she goes on about potential plans.

“It’s not even for another few months, so we have time.” Astrid says from a few lockers down. Betty and you turn to head towards your English class as Astrid heads off to her French class. Before you get inside your phone pings with a notification about the Avengers. Lagos? What are they doing there? You scroll through the news articles trying to understand what’s going on, but your teacher tells you to put your phone away. You open your computer to take notes and open your text stream with your dad, which is more bare than most people would think a text stream with Iron Man would be.

Y: What is happening in Lagos?

T: Nothing that I know about right now. You’re in class. Focus on class.

Of course the one time you need him to tell you things he pulls the dad card of telling you to focus on class. Pepper won’t have information you need and the other Avengers are across the world at the moment apparently. Tony only responded because FRIDAY is part of his suit too. So now instead of being able to focus on being back at school for the first time in almost a week, you wished you were home still so you could talk to your dad and see what the actual fuck was happening.

By the time you got to lunch, everyone in the school it seems are aware that something is happening with the Avengers and everyone wants to hear from you. But you don’t have the patience to deal with anyone, except for trying to get an answer from your father.

“Y/N, now’s not really a good time.”

“Make time.” You say shortly. “Explain what’s going on. Because I have news reports and high schoolers telling me what’s going on or expecting me to explain to them what’s happening and I don’t know what the fuck is happening.”

“Well I’m in the middle of dealing with the government and possible rogue Avengers so I think my problems trump yours at this point in time kiddo.”

“Rogue Avengers?” Your voice drops as you turn the corner, trying to get away from ears that are trying to hear too much.

“I promise I will talk with you about everything when you get home, but right now I need to focus on Avengers stuff and you need to focus on school. Just give a no comment to the school kids. You’re not an Avenger, so they shouldn’t be expecting answers for you about what your dad is doing.”

“Fine, but I’m expecting answers tonight.”

“I know. Hey kiddo. I love you, no matter what else is going on. Just know that ok?” Your voice chokes up, as if he knows you told Pepper first. “You don’t have to say it back, I just… there was shit today that made me think that I need you to know that ok?” You bite your lip for a second before biting a bullet and just going for it.

“I love you too… Dad.” There’s silence on the other end for a moment and you think the call has dropped before Tony continues as if nothing happened.

“I’ll see you after school. Happy will pick you up. Go with him ok?”

“Of course.” The call ends and you're more confused than when it started. Making your way over to where Betty and Liz as well as a few of Liz’s friends are sitting, they look at you when you sit down.

“Everything ok?” Betty asks.

“Oh yeah, Dad wanted to know how my numbers were doing cuz of last week.” Everyone sat looking like they were waiting for more. “Wait, you guys thought he would tell me what’s going on in Avenger-land? No. He barely tells me what we’re having for dinner.” You force out a semi real sounding laugh and Betty joins it.

“He honestly doesn’t share that much with you. So Liz, how’s planning for Homecoming going?” You tune out the rest of the prattle as you look at some info on your phone, but something non Avengers related catches your eye. A video of a superhero called Spider-Man? Catching a car with his bare hands. It’s impressive. And it seems like something that Dad should be aware of especially if things are going to shit right now. So you send him the video, not thinking anything about it.

By the end of the day though, when you and Happy walk into an empty tower, you start thinking more about the issues your dad mentioned. “Happy have you seen Dad all day?” Happy tries to control his emotions at hearing you call Tony Dad.

“He’s been Iron Man most of the day. Hasn’t needed a driver. He did say he has to go deal with something. But I am to stay here with you until he gets back he said.”

“So you’re my baby-sitter?”

“I prefer the term companion?” Happy suggests.

“Where are the rest of the Avengers? Like I’d at least imagine Wanda, Vision, Clint, and Natasha to be here?” Usually the group of them were around when you got home from school, but today the tower seems rather empty.

“I think Wanda and Vision are upstate. Natasha too. Clint might have gone home.” You always seem to forget that Clint has an actual home and family. You shoot a text to Natasha asking where she is, but don’t expect to hear anything if she’s off doing actual business stuff. As you slide the Stark Phone back into your pocket, you wander up towards your room to dump your backpack. After kicking off your shoes, you think about asking if Happy will take you to the Avenger’s Compound since there’s no one here, but you know your dad wants to keep you as close to the city as possible.

So instead of putting off your homework you decide to get started on it. The tower is too quiet and it puts you on edge. Usually there is at least a handful of Avengers making noise or your dad tinkering around or something. But it’s too damn quiet. “FRIDAY, play Tony Stark Can Rot.” You maybe should change the name of your playlist, but right now you’re too focused on putting something on to make the Tower less quiet.

Finally, after spending way too long on your essay that’s due next week, you trod down to the kitchen. You can count on one hand the number of times you’ve had to make yourself food since you moved into the Tower. Steve likes cooking. You guessed it felt the most like being at home to him. But it meant you never really had to make food unless you got hungry at weird times. But making dinner tonight was weird for multiple reasons. First of all, none of the Avengers were here. It’s not the weirdest of things, but definitely made your top ten. Second, and most weird since the talk you had had, was that neither Tony or Pepper were here. Could you manage on your own? Sure. But it definitely counted as the weirdest thing since you all were trying to make more family time.

You sat down at the empty kitchen table with a veggie patty and some French fries. Not the fanciest dinner, but as a dinner for one, it would work. You try scrolling through Twitter to find out more about the Lagos thing, but most of it seems like news from over a month ago, so why is it being brought up again? There’s even some Sokovia news being brought up but that’s even older. You close out Twitter and text Pepper.

Y: When are you coming home?

P: probably late. Caught up with a lot of SI stuff. Sorry I missed dinner. Love you.

You want to text your dad, but at this point, he’s already missed dinner too. He’s probably off doing Iron Man stuff. So instead, you just throw some music on from your phone and eat your dinner. When you’re done you put your plate in the sink and make your way back up to your room. You have biology readings, Intro to Calc notes to revise, and English readings for tomorrow to still do and you could start on your German studying if you want to get ahead.

It’s close to midnight when there’s a knock on your door, softly almost like it doesn’t want to be heard. “Hey,” Pepper says softly when she sees you're still up. “Shouldn’t you be heading to bed?”

“Finishing up the last bits of homework. Did you just get home?” She nods but makes her way into your room to sit down on your bed. You turn in your desk chair to face her. “Long day?”

“Super long. How was school?”

“Fine, boring, too long.”

“You miss a week and that’s all the catch up I get?”

“Everyone was going on and on about this Lagos stuff which I don’t get why it’s being brought up again and Dad wouldn’t tell me anything.” Pepper’s head tilts to the left ever so slightly.

“He doesn’t always talk about what’s going on inside his head. But come on, you missed a whole week of school and there was no drama that you can catch me up on?”

“Well it’s not really drama but I literally ran into a boy today.”

“Bumps and bruises from it?”

You shake your head. “No he caught me before I could fall. He’s kind of cute though.”

“And what did we learn about him after that, because doesn’t Betty know everything?”

“Well his name is Peter. He’s a Sophomore. He’s in Decathalon with Liz, who we sit with at lunch, and Betty said she’s pretty sure he’s in band and on the robotic team too.”

“Well I hope to learn more about this Peter kid. Maybe you’ll have to ask him-”

“I’m not asking him to anything. It’s my first year at this school and I’m already too much news by being Tony Stark's daughter. Literally some other kid teased him when he crashed into me saying that Dad was going to send all the other Avengers after him for bumping into me and then when I said I hope we don’t literally run into each other again he said something along the lines of ‘your dad might sue me for damaging a Stark and I can’t afford that’. And he’s not far off from the truth.”

“We wouldn’t let your dad go that crazy.” Pepper reassures you. “Now, it’s late and you have school in the morning, get to bed.”

“Is Dad not home?”

“He had that MIT thing this morning and I think he was going upstate to deal with some Avenger stuff this afternoon. He may stay at the compound tonight.”

“Oh.” He didn’t mention any of that to you. And you’re somewhat disappointed that he didn’t.

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

#becoming a stark?#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fan fic #Tony Stark #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #betty brant #pepper potts #happy hogan #flash thompson #imanativeofswlondondahling #peter parker imagine

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amillionmillionvoices · 4 years

Text

i couldn’t stop myself. river/doctor fic, based on steven moffat’s dream final episode. tooth rotting fluff, this is. pg.

time is everything, time is nothing, time is ours

She’s been dying for weeks.

Slowly, painfully, using the last of her regeneration energy to stave off death. For good, this time—her last body, last go around. She supposes it’s fitting, that her final hours would be spent trying, once again, to defeat them. It makes her a bit sour, if she thinks about it too long—there are so many things she’d rather be doing, people she’d rather be with—but she can’t leave. Not now. Not when this little planet needs her, and, she supposes, if she’s going to die for good she wants to die the way she’s always lived—saving the universe.

Being an idiot, the voice in her head says, one that still, after so many lives, sounds suspiciously like her wife.

The Doctor smirks to herself, and tries to avoid the screeching behind her, the door that won’t hold much longer. She tries to tune out their cries, familiar and robotic, with that hint of frenzy she’s never quite understood.

She understands it now. Their desperation.

The Dalek fleet is the last of its kind—the rest, destroyed in this grand battle, the one she’s been waging—leading—for years. The Doctor’s Last Stand, they’re calling it. It sounds far too dramatic for her tastes, but it’s not entirely off point. She’ll die here, she knows—on this Dalek ship, by Dalek weapons, alone.

It’s for the best, really.

The people fighting down below, they’re counting on her. Not to destroy the ship—no, that would be too easy, or perhaps, too hard, she isn’t sure which. No, the plan is much more ridiculous, much more her style. The Captain of the army had called it ludicrous.

She likes that a bit.

Behind her, sparks fly as the Daleks burn down the door, and she knows she has so little time left.

Typing quickly, she does her best to ignore the searing pain in her side, the pounding in her head she’s felt for days. Everything hurts with the effort of not dying, and there’s no regeneration energy left to pull at her skin. But she has to try. Has to give just one more thing to the universe, and pray that it works.

Yanking out wires and entering codes, the Doctor finally manages to find what she’s looking for—access to the hive mind. Clara had found it once, when she was an echo, and the idea has lingered so long, just out of reach. There’s no way to destroy them all—she’s tried that before, and always failed. She’s tried deleting herself, but they always remember. She’s tried time locks and explosions and everything else, and they always come back.

This time, she’s trying something new. This time, she’s going to change them.

Groaning when she finds the slippery entrails, Dalek bits that writhe and slither, the Doctor keys in the last few commands, and takes a deep breath.

Geronimo, she thinks, from somewhere in her memory, and smiles, and plunges her hand into the mainframe. It’s frankly disgusting, and she makes what she’s certain is a horrible face, but it’s only a moment before the Daleks realize she’s there, in their heads, and they scream. Scream, and fight, and the Doctor slams her eyes shut and tries to breathe.

She’s always thought about giving the Daleks a piece of her mind, she just never meant literally.

But she can feel it, feel their anger and their hatred, feel everything they abhor. It tries to sink into her, a two-way link, and she pushes back against it, fights it with everything she has, and remembers:

Ian and Barbara, their strength and their love. Ace, and the Brigadier, and Martha, and Kate and their bravery, their fierce protectiveness, their love. She thinks about Clara and Danny, dying for love. Thinks about Bill, finding love after death. She thinks about Rose and her happy life with another version of her, in love. Thinks of Amy and Rory and their undying love and Jenny and her love and Yaz and her love and Ryan and his love and Graham and Grace and their love and Susan and Mickey and Sarah Jane and all of their heart, their kindness, their generosity, their love. She thinks of Donna and her love, her mercy, of Davros, and mercy, and the Master, and mercy, the Cybermen, and mercy, the Daleks, and mercy. She fills her head and her hearts with every moment, every memory from her long, long life of love and mercy and kindness.

She can feel the Daleks fighting back, feels them claw at her mind; part of her is aware the door behind her is caving in, but she needs more time.

She thinks of Jack and Jackie and Adric and Romana and Wilfred and Nardole. She thinks of Astrid and Rita and Jabe and Nasreen and anyone and everyone she’s ever loved, who’s ever loved her, who’s ever loved anyone at all and pushes it all toward the Daleks.

Blew them up with love, she thinks, though she isn’t trying to kill them, not this time. Just trying to save them. Maybe that was the answer all along.

And maybe it wasn’t.

She isn’t sure, but she knows it’s getting harder and harder to fight, to prove to them that it’s worth it—all the pain and loss and suffering that comes with kindness.

So she does what she knows she needs to, though she’s reluctant—desperate, almost, to keep her to herself, to share not a moment of their lives together; but she can’t think about love and not think about her, so she lets it spill over, all those times:

America, and Leadworth, and Stormcage. She thinks of Asgard and Trenzalore and Elvis. She thinks of Sontarans and she laughs and thinks of the Library and she cries. She thinks of Darillium, and smiles so wide her face hurts more than the pain in her chest, her lungs. She thinks of 24 years and so, so much longer, nipping off in the TARDIS for adventures. She thinks of River’s smile and River’s warm hands and River’s skin. She thinks of River getting ready for bed, wrestling with her hair, River getting up in the mornings, grumpy as all hell. She thinks of dancing with River under so many stars, and catching her every time she jumped or fell. She thinks of I hate you and you’re standing right behind me and loving the stars themselves. She thinks of not one line and more than any living thing in the universe and or you and when one’s in love and this is the reason above all I love him, my husband. My madman in a box. My Doctor.

She thinks of next stop, everywhere, and behind her, the door comes down.

She can hear them, the hiss, the almost questioned, exterminate? that doesn’t sound so sure, and yet when she looks over her shoulder there’s a gun aimed at her chest and frantically, she tries to remember more, remember louder and more clearly and more lovingly because they’re almost there, almost, so close—

The Dalek aims, and the Doctor shuts her eyes.

The gun goes off, and she waits for pain and failure and death.

Instead, the Dalek groans, and the Doctor opens one eye, confused.

“Really? An end of the world battle and you didn’t call me? I’m insulted, sweetie.”

Her voice is a surge of oxygen, sunlight and joy. The Doctor can’t help the smile the splits her cheeks—there’s recognition in River’s voice, fondness and devotion and worry, always, but determination, too.

“And what sort of time do you call this?” The Doctor echos, and River steps around the Dalek, holstering her weapon.

“The nick of it, I’d say.”

“As always,” the Doctor agrees, wants to pull her in close, but pain spikes through her head, and she can feel the Dalek’s fighting back. She hisses, turns her attention back to the mainframe and grits her teeth.

River appears at her side in less than a second, a steadying hand on her arm.

“What have you done?”

“Ah,” the Doctor says, wincing in anticipation of River’s ire. “About that.”

It only takes her wife a moment to figure it out, to realize what she’s doing, and River gasps. “You idiot! You’ll burn yourself up!”

The Doctor shrugs. “Last regeneration,” she says, half her focus on keeping the Daleks—all that anger, all that hate—at bay. “I’m dying anyway.”

“No, you’re not,” River snaps, “Let me do it.”

The Doctor glares. “Not a chance.”

“Doctor—” Her voice is desperate, terrified, and the Doctor tries to smile, to be kind.

“No, really, River. I’m dying. Have been for weeks. I’m on borrowed time.”

River’s eyes flicker over her body, looking for wounds. She won’t be able to see it—the shot she took to the stomach, courtesy of a lone Dalek—but River reads her face, the calm acceptance, and knows.

Still, she shakes her head. “It’s not too late. We can get you to hospital—”

“And leave all these people?”

“Yes,” River says, but she doesn’t sound so sure, and the Doctor smiles.

“Liar.”

River makes a kind of desperate sound, one that tears through her. “There has to be something—”

The Doctor shakes her head. “There’s no stopping it, River, not this time. I’m sorry.”

It’s the apology, she thinks, more than anything else, that makes River break, her expression falling, bright tears in her eyes.

“No,” she says, tightening her grip on the Doctor’s arm. “I can’t let you die.”

“River,” she says, so soft, and with her free hand, pulls her closer, their hips pressed together. She reaches up, and brushes a stray tear from River’s cheek with her thumb. “Where are we, then?”

River swallows. “Last time I saw you was the Bone Meadows.”

Her Eleventh self, she thinks, and remembers: River, still in prison, still learning. Himself, still trying to prove something to her, both of them right at the start of such wonderful falling.

“You’ve got so much more to come,” she promises.

River bites her lip, and a surge of affection flows through the Doctor at the sight. “We could have more now,” she tries, but the Doctor shakes her head, leans forward, and kisses River’s cheek.

“Soon enough,” she promises, and River nods, and finally looks down at the wiring, the open Dalek wound the Doctor is currently hooked up to.

“What can I do?” she asks, so brave, so kind.

The Doctor doesn’t think about it, not for a moment. “Give us a kiss?”

River half laughs, but doesn’t hesitate, leans forward and slides her hand into the Doctor’s hair and kisses her, soft and salty and she’s trembling slightly, and the Doctor pulls her in tighter, curls her free hand around the back of River’s neck and opens her mouth, kisses her harder.

River whimpers, hands clinging to the Doctor and she’s warm and soft and safe and alive, so so alive under the Doctor’s hands and she loves her, has loved her for centuries, millennia, will love her forever.

She thinks of the screwdriver tucked safely in her pocket, the code she’d written, not two days ago, and prays that it works.

Under her hands, River moans softly and the Doctor grins against her lips, nips at her gently, refuses to let go. If it’s her last chance, her last moments, this is where she wants to be, who she wants to be with.

She supposes maybe the universe isn’t so terrible, after all.

There’s a spark, and a surge that knocks them backwards, the Doctor’s hand, burnt and bloodied, flying from the console.

“No,” she says, “no, no, no—”

“Doctor, look.”

She pauses, and follows River’s gaze out the large window to the planet below. Everything has stopped. The explosions. Even the ship is silent. And then, the crackle over the speakers, a familiar voice with a strange humility.

“Mercy,” it says. Below, the Daleks start to withdraw. “We bring mercy.”

The Doctor laughs. It may not work for good, may not last long, but the Daleks are retreating, or turning to each other, to the people, and she can hear bits of questions, “How can we help you?” and “We mean no harm.”

“What happened?” River asks. “Are they—?”

“Good, now,” The Doctor says. “At least for a while. At least as good as I am.”

River smiles. “The best, then.”

“Only with you,” she answers softly, and River shakes her head.

“Sentimental idiot.”

The Doctor makes to answer, but pain overwhelms her and her knees buckle. She hears River cry out, feels hands lower her gently, but she isn’t on the cold floor, where she though she’d be. River cradles her head in her lap, brushing her fingers through her hair.

“Please, sweetie—”

The Doctor grips her hand and forces her eyes open, wants to see her one last time.

“River.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

Her hearts break, and she reaches a shaky hand to River’s face, holds her cheek in her palm. “I need—I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“The TARDIS. Bury me in it, and leave her… on Trenzalore.”

“Trenzalore? Why—”

“Long story,” she says. “Has to be lived. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“You’ll be the only one… who can open it.”

“How?”

“Spoilers.”

River glares, but the Doctor smiles, even through the pain. With her free hand, she grips River’s tightly.

“I can’t—” River shudders. “I can’t do this without you.”

The Doctor shakes her head. “You‘ll never have to. It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You've got so much more to come. You and me, River. Time and space.”

“Promise?” she whispers.

“I promise.” The Doctor coughs, and it hurts so badly, but River is there, and she’s like sunlight through the dark. “Darillium.”

“What?”

“Make sure I take you,” she says breathlessly. “Don’t go without me.”

“I won’t.”

She feels one of her hearts give out, and draws in a ragged breath. “River.”

“I know,” she says, and there are tears on her cheeks as she cradles the Doctor close. “I know, sweetie.”

“Tired,” she manages, and forces her eyes open. “But happy.”

River exhales. “Only you would be happy to die.”

The Doctor shakes her head. “Happy you’re here. My wife.”

“Always.”

With all her strength, the Doctor curls her fingers in River’s hair and rugs her down gently. “You watch us run, love.”

The last thing she feels is River’s lips against her own, River’s hand in hers.

—

Waiting for River is tedious at best. He’s got a new body now, such as it is, made up of lines and code. He needs glasses—well, not really, but he thinks they make him look rather distinguished—and he’s partial to suits. He takes care of Charlotte as best he can, but the mainframe is overwhelmed and even he can’t fix it from the inside. He knows it’s only a matter of time, however, and tries to be patient.

He’s a bit better at it this go around, but the way time moves is agonizing, feels awful under his skin and he can’t quite grasp anything, any moment. The years tick by, or maybe it’s only hours, he isn’t sure, and then there’s a surge, and the computer feels like it’s rebooting or dying or maybe neither and then—

Everything calms. The itch under his skin goes away, replaced by an entirely new anticipation.

He follows Charlotte outside to the courtyard, blue skies everywhere, green grass, and blessed stillness.

She appears in white, which he can’t help but find a but humorous, a bit fitting.

“The Doctor fixed the data core,” Charlotte says, and brings River her friends, which, while he’s happy for her, makes him just a tad jealous, for the way she recognizes them and hugs them close.

He waits, answers their questions dutifully, gives them a tour of the mansion, explains how it works, now that they’re not quite alive, not quite dead. River keeps her eyes on him the whole time, something discerning, calculating in her gaze, but she’s a bit distracted, and he supposes that’s only fair.

He waits until everyone disperses to find their rooms and settle in before he turns to her, forcing back a smile. “Professor Song, might I have a word?”

River nods, and follows him into the backyard—there are tables and chairs and beautiful bird baths and all kinds of quaint things he can’t wait to show her, doesn’t care about at all right now.

“How are you feeling?”

“A bit overwhelmed,” she admits. “I never thought—though of course he would, that daft man.”

“Are you happy?”

He holds his breath as she blinks, looks startled by the question.

“To be alive? Certainly.”

“To be here,” he amends, and tries not to shift his weight.

River stares off into the distance for a long moment. “I could be, I suppose. It’s just—” She shakes her head, and gives him a wane smile. “I’ve never been fond of confined spaces. Staying in one place.” She shrugs. “I’ll get used to it.”

The Doctor steels himself. “You seemed content enough on Darillium.”

River’s neck snaps up and her gaze hardens, so suspicious, his wife.

“How could you know about—”

He smiles. Soft and warm, and with every ounce of devotion he has in him.

“Doctor?” Her voice cracks. “How can you be—”

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend eternity without me?” he chides softly. “I’m much too selfish for that.”

River makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and throws her arms around his neck. He nearly wilts, holding her so close, buries his face in her hair and breathes her in and she feels solid, feels warm and alive and real and part of him can’t believe it worked, it all worked, and they’re here and together and—

She slaps him, hard, and he grunts, and rubs at his cheek. “I suppose I deserved—” he starts, and then she’s kissing him, mindless of his new face, his new body made of code; mindless of anything or anyone around them. She kisses him fiercely, desperately, arms around his neck and he holds her so tight he’s afraid she might bruise.

“My River,” he whispers against her lips when she finally parts to breathe. “My wife.”

“Doctor,” she murmurs. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be, dear?” he asks, and she shudders in his arms. “We’re alive.”

#river song #drfic #river x doctor #catherine writes fic #MARRIED OTP #steven moffat #that bastard #giving me all the hope and feels

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puffintalia · 4 years

Note

For the ask commentary: "I… can't explain," he tried. His heart was beating so fast, he could hear it echoing in his skull, feel the pangs of an approaching migrane. [..] A pathetic attempt at emotion from a man who could do nothing but destroy them (EFL, chapter 7)

right! so! lukas’ whole deal in efl is his different relationships with mads and with astrid, you know that. at this point, he’s still really struggling with his internalised homophobia and with coming to terms with his feelings for mads, but he knows he doesnt love astrid in that same way. but at the same time, its astrid hes dating. its astrid who calls him her boyfriend. so he feels guilty that he doesnt feel the same way about her as she seems to about him

when he says that he “cant explain”, its more that he doesnt want to. hes scared to: this is the 80s, as far as he knows neither he nor astrid have ever known a gay person in their lives and he is, clearly, terrified of how astrid could react. even though he knows she cares about him, hes still scared. and even if she was okay with it, coming out would mean that he would be inadvertently crushing her feelings for him - this is why he talks a lot earlier in the chapter about “betraying” her, he feels like hes lead her on by agreeing to be her boyfriend and then deciding hes not interested in women. so he says he “cant explain” not because he cant, but because hes too scared of the consequences of admitting his feelings, both for him and astrid. “things about me that’ve been botherin’ me” is similar, referring to his feelings toward mads and other men in general

“falling, everything was falling” to “a cacophony of catastrophe” is just his panic, i dont really know how else to describe it. ive always thought of him as one of those people who gets overwhelmed really easily when theyre upset or stressed, and since hes (vaguely) meant to be autistic in this fic (i only kinda hinted at it when eiki was talking about their family), its a sort of sensory overload. “so loud and but so devoid of ... anything that felt real” is about how hes experiencing this overload of his senses and all this physical feeling is rushing at him at once, but on the inside he’s just... numb. hes reached that point of emotion and panic where hes just starting to go into shutdown. i think that might also be an autistic thing - i dont exactly know a not-autistic experience - but its something i personally go through a lot when im pushed into taxing emotional situations. for lukas, his fear of astrids response and his own repressed emotions combined with the sensory overload are pushing him over that edge. he doesnt even have the energy to feel anything more

the last line is the hardest to explain. its one of those things that just comes out when youre writing that you dont really think much about but it kinda works so you keep it in there. “a pathetic attempt at emotion” is a sort of reference both to his habit of repressing his feelings and that general sort of view or stereotype of autistic people as ‘emotionless’ or robotic that i know a lot of us internalise. he represses the hell out of his feelings for mads, yes, thats the whole reason the plot even started, but this is more about his other emotions. he talks - well, thinks - a lot in chapter two about it and i cant remember but it might come up when eiki first talks about their family too. hes never thought of himself as ‘good’ with emotions and the shutdown just reinforces his view. he doesnt think he understands emotions like the people around him do. he knows the situation with astrid is upsetting, but he doesnt realise that his numbness is because hes upset and so he sort of... blames himself for not feeling the right emotions for the situation. he thinks the reason he feels numb is because hes incapable of having the right emotions, when really its because theyre so strong theyre overwhelming.

the second half of that line, “from a man who could do nothing but destroy them” is more directly about his relationship with astrid and his guilt about his feelings for matthias. despite it all, he and astrid are still dating and logically he knows that means shes in love with him. the emotion here are astrids feelings for him, and he thinks his newly-discovered sexuality is crushing them and hurting her in the process. you could almost say that he thinks that if astrid finds out that hes gay, she wont care about him anymore, not even as her oldest friend rather than a boyfriend. “could do nothing but” refers again to that narrative in lukas’ mind that is just constantly reminding him how awful hes always been with emotions and understanding them. even if its not true, he feels like letting people down and crushing their hopes for him is a regular, repeating occurrence and hes berating himself for it. this could even tie in to his whole situation with mads - by going with his natural instincts and avoiding him, hes hurting their friendship, and though thats not what hes referring to specifically here it does reinforce his idea that he cant do anything right and that he just crushes other peoples feelings when he cant handle his own

ok this is way longer than i meant for it to be but its interesting to look more in-depth into it. i know i definitely worried before about claiming lukas was an autistic character when its never explicitly stated, but i think you can see the effects of it on him in the text even if its not obvious that thats what it is, and i think its an important part of the fic too because it kinda dictates how he responds to things, just like it does here

thank u for asking this u have no clue how much i loved analysing my own writing like this wtf

#sorry this is so long aaaaa #ask game #ask #commentary asks #ever fallen in love

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hypexion · 4 years

Text

Voyage of the Damned is an episode title that really comes at you. It tells you that this isn’t going to be a funtime Christmas episode. Instead, everyone dies. Well, not everyone. Just almost everyone.

The setup for Voyage of the Damned is “The Titanic, IN SPACE“, which tells you that things are about to go horribly wrong. Space aliens (who look exactly like humans) are cruising past Earth for some funky Christmas fun. But soon things go wrong! Oh noes!

Before things go wrong, Voyage of the Damned lures you in with its Christmas charm. The Doctor goes to a party and meets some nice people. He even goes to Earth, where he finds that everyone has left London due to impending disaster. Some old guy fills in the Doctor about this development, who will later return as Wilf, a top-tier one-off companion. And also grand-dad of Donna Noble.

You are also lured in by Astrid, played by special guest star Kylie. Astrid has big companion energy, with a backstory and yernings that make her seem like a perfect TARDIS friend. However, Voyage of the Damned is where having big companion energy starts becoming equal to having lots of death forshadowing. Thus, Astrid, who has many companion traits such as kindness, gumption and drive is tragically killed by Voyage of the Damned‘s need to kill, and the BBC’s inability to hire Kylie full-time.

Speaking of its need to kill, Voyage of the Damned is unrelenting in the way it unfolds. Once things go wrong, they go wrong to the maximum possible degree. One guy gets shot, most people get wiped out by the meteors, and then the Hosts murder most of the survivors. This is not happy Christmas viewing. The collapsing ship provides most of the danger, but there’s also killer robots, just to spice things up.

Voyage of the Damned reaches the peak of its bloodlust in the bridge scene. First, Morvin dies by stepping to the side. Which is ridiculous. We already know how dangerous the ship is - a guy got sucked out into space. Then Bannakaffalatta sacrifices himself to stop the Hosts, which actually works because we’ve had a bit of time to get to like him. Then Foon does a sacrifice, and it’s honestly just redundant. Also it comes of as mean-spirited that the characters demeaned for being poor and large die horribly. Are unintentional classist themes really the true meaning of Christmas?

Once half the cast has been somewhat pointlessly culled, we finally get to find out the villain behind all of this. Via some clever Doctor trickery, he gets the Hosts to take him to their leader. Turns out Max Capricorn is a loser and murdered a bunch of people because rich people are dicks. There’s some stuff about anti-cyborg discrimination going on which feeds into the motivation here, but it doesn’t quite work. Is it meant to be about ableism, or homophobia, or what? The general concept seems like it should be an ableism thing - both cyborg characters are like that as a consequence of medical issues. But Astrid has a line about cyborgs being able to get married, which is more associated with gay rights.

Anyhow, Max is defeated when Astrid uses her companion drive to forklift him to death. Except because we can’t have nice things in Christmas episode Voyage of the Damned, this kills her. Hooray for more angst, I guess. Then later, Astrid survives! Yay! Except only as a space ghost, which is pretty bittersweet, but at least she gets to fly around and see new places.

Of course, once Astrid was gone, Russel T. Davis decided that no, he hadn’t gone far enough in Last of the Time Lords. The Doctor declares himself the highest authority, and literally ascends, carried by angels, to the control. What. Why does this happnen? How is The Timeless Children not inevitable, when the Doctor is already being treated as a literally god!? Some religious groups got a bit cross at this, which is understandable because it’s just really over the top and not in the good way. Sometimes, subtly is a thing that is good.

The ending of Voyage of the Damned is just the generic ending, really. The Doctor does a Doctor thing to save the world (oh yeah the world is in danger again can these specials never be local). Side characters go off to disappear. The Doctor then hops in the TARDIS to go be sad about Martha leaving, probably.

So, what’s the conclusion on Voyage of the Damned? I... don’t know? It’s honestly kind of weird. It’s surprisingly dark, especially for a Christmas episode. The villainous motivation is meh, and the stakes honestly feel overblown. There’s nothing really wrong with the execution, although some of the stuff maybe shouldn’t have escaped the cutting room. Well, I suppose one of the Tenth Doctor Christmas Specials had to be the worst, and Voyage of the Damned probably claims that unprize for itself.

#doctor who #Tenth Doctor #voyage of the damned #doctor who rewatch

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glassnightfury · 4 years

Text

Cry Havoc (Let Slip The Dogs Of War)

Chivalry Fell On Its Sword

ao3|ffn

Fishlegs sits down next to Astrid on the porch step. He holds out the green plaid flannel Hiccup had been wearing before.

“Do you wanna give this to him,” he asks, “or should I?” She takes it and pulls it on.

“I’m cold,” she says by way of explanation. They sit in silence for a minute before she remembers the red plastic cup beside her. She can feel Fishlegs’s eyes boring into her, so she downs the drink Hiccup made her. The rum warms its way down her throat.

“How do you know so much about it?” Fish whispers. “Are you a werewolf, too?” Astrid huffs, blowing a chunk of her curtain bangs out of her face.

“No, I’m not, and I don’t,” she says, remembering the certainty she felt as she guided Hiccup. “I just… guessed, I supposed.” It feels like lying. She wishes she were certain now. She rubs her eye. “Hiccup took his keys. Can you drive me home?”

“Yeah, I just,” Fishlegs starts. “I just think he’s gonna need help.”

“Okay, we can talk on the way home.” She stands, abandoning her cup there on the porch, and Fishlegs has to jog to keep up with her when she starts toward the street robotically.

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

The closer Hiccup gets to the New Berk Preserve, the more he can feel the pull in his gut. It guides him through the trees, over the chain fence marking the land, and straight to the heart of the forest. As the moon rises, so too does the anger in his chest. It builds itself into a rage he’s never felt before, but he has nowhere to put it. So he keeps running for miles. Even when he hears another pair of feet fall into step behind him, and even as the footsteps grow ever closer.

His sprint is abruptly stopped when the creature slams into him, throwing him to the ground. His rage immediately finds a target, and he starts slashing until a tattooed face appears in his field of vision.

Eret.

Hiccup fights harder, getting his good foot under Eret’s torso and kicking out. Eret flies back and slams into a tree, but he gets up almost immediately as if it never happened.

“Hiccup,” he calls, “come on, I can help you.”

“Help me?” Hiccup yells. “You did this to me. And I don’t know how or why.” Eret shakes his head. He reaches to grab Hiccup’s arm, but Hiccup dodges.

“I didn’t do this to you. I couldn’t have, even if I tried.”

“Then. Who. Did,” Hiccup shouts between breaths. He falls to his knees. The pull in his gut becomes a burning, and he’s covered in enough sweat to feel like he’s been swimming. His whole body lights up in pain as if he’s been dumped in a bonfire.

“I would like to know that as well, Hiccup,” Eret says, and he starts taking slow steps toward Hiccup. He stops, turning his ear to the wind. “Run,” he says.

An arrow lodges itself into a tree above Hiccups head. A high buzz fills the air until blinding white light erupts through the darkness of the woods. Hiccup screams as his retinas burn. Something lodges itself in his arm. Eret pulls Hiccup off the ground.

“They’re already here,” Eret says, and he hauls Hiccup away.

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

“In the last two years,” Astrid starts, “I have found 5 dead bodies.” Fishlegs drives slowly through town. “I don’t know why, and I don’t understand how. But I know it has something to do with this place.”

“With Hiccup?” Fishlegs asks.

“Maybe.”

“So this date, is it like recon?”

“No,” Astrid snaps. “It was a date. Gods, what kind of asshole do you take me for?”

“It was just a question,” he answers.

“It was a rude one,” she huffs.

“To be fair,” Fishlegs says, “only one other person has ever dated Hiccup.” Astrid opens her mouth to ask who, but she thinks better of it just in time. Fishlegs looks embarrassed by his own words.

“The same night that Hiccup lost his leg, I was bitten by something,” she says. “It looked like a person with glowing red eyes. Whatever it was, Hiccup drew its attention away from me. Toothless alerted the searchers for both of us.”

“A werewolf,” Fishlegs breathes. “You were bitten by a werewolf. Like Hiccup.”

“But I’m not a werewolf,” Astrid insists. “Why not?”

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

Hiccups blood rushes through his ears. The arrow is still in his arm, the shaft broken a couple inches from the wound. He can’t stop himself from clawing at his chest with his actual, real-life claws, despite the deep, bloody gouges it leaves in his skin beneath his ruined t-shirt. The anger builds there, alongside the panic crawling up his throat. He feels empty and all too full at once. He wants Toothless.

“You’re bleeding on my leather seats,” Eret says from the driver’s seat of the Camaro. Rage rushes back into Hiccup’s brain.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Hiccup snarls, though he doesn’t know who’s controlling his voice. His hand shoots toward Eret’s face of its own accord, but Eret is faster than Hiccup could ever hope to be. A sickening snap accompanies Hiccup’s arm breaking. He hears himself scream. Eret pulls the arrowhead out of Hiccup’s skin.

“You’ll be fine!” Eret snaps. “You’re already healing.” He doesn’t let go of Hiccup’s arm until the bone and skin knit back together, but it takes only seconds. Hiccup yanks his arm back, cradling it delicately. The car screeches to a halt in front of the derelict Berk County train depot.

“What are we doing here?” Hiccup demands, a growl forming deep in his chest. “Who were they?” Before he realizes what is happening, Eret is out of the car and dragging Hiccup with him into the depot. As soon as Eret throws Hiccup to the dust-caked floor, Hiccup is back up to slash at his throat, but he catches Hiccup’s hand. Eret twists the hand and uses the momentum to shove Hiccup to the floor again.

“You need to get control of yourself,” Eret says, and he pushes Hiccup’s arm harder against his back. It should be painful given the broken bone from only moments before, but the only thing Hiccup can feel is the unbridled fury clawing its way out of his skin and the cool, gritty marble beneath his face.

“I don’t know how,” Hiccup admits. It sounds like a threat when it comes out. He follows it with a futile attempt to break out of Eret’s iron grip.

“Find an anchor,” Eret says, “find something—or someone—to ground you. To hold you to your humanity.”

A memory comes to Hiccup’s mind unbidden.

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

“It’s a coyote trap,” Hiccup’s dad said, gesturing to the metal jaws ripping into a rake handle. “They’re illegal, but people try to get away with them.”

“Why are they illegal?” Hiccup asked. His dad smiled at him, as if he asked the right question. Hiccup felt pride bloom in his chest.

“They’re cruel, Hiccup,” his dad said. “Inhumane. They trap the animal’s leg, leaving it either to starve to death or to wait for the hunter to come put it out of its misery.” Hiccup felt tears spring into his eyes at that, but his dad took his hands and guided them to the trap.

“One hand on each side,” he said, his hands resting over Hiccup’s. “Push the levers as close to the jaws as possible. It’ll give you more leverage. Deep breath. Put all your weight into it.”

Hiccup sucked in all the air he could and pushed, angling his body over the trap. Nothing happened.

“Don’t worry,” his dad said. When he pushed on the levers, they opened easily. “You’ll grow bigger and stronger. Someday this will be easy for you.”

Hiccup can feel his face change. His teeth shrink. The hair on his cheeks pulls back under his skin. The bones that had changed his brow and nose rearrange back into their usual place.

Don’t worry, his dad had said. You’ll grow bigger and stronger. Someday this will all be easy for you.

Hiccup knew then and knows now that his father had been speaking of things like pushing, pulling, running, and lifting, but it still sent a wave of calm through the rage in his chest.

“I got it,” Hiccup says, and his voice is shaking, but calm. “I got it.” Eret releases him. Hiccup rolls himself gingerly, taking in his surroundings as he sits up. The rusty train car in the middle is half on the tracks. The grand columns and marble floors hint at art deco designs, but as is usual in Berk County, the circles and x’s give a Scandinavian edge to the perfect arcs. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust and grime.

“I really don’t feel good,” Hiccup says pathetically, and he feels bile rising to his throat.

“I know, okay,” Eret says, slowly approaching again. “I’ve been where you are. Let me help you.”

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

“Thanks, Fishlegs,” Astrid says as he pulls into her driveway. “Text me if you hear from Hiccup.”

“No problem,” he answers. “And, uh, same.” He looks at her with a question in his face.

“What?” she asks.

“Are we gonna do this?” His fingers tap on the steering wheel.

“Do what?”

“Become sidekicks to a Teen Wolf?”

“I am not a sidekick,” Astrid huffs. “Are you?” Fishlegs blinks.

“I don’t know.”

“Friend doesn’t equal sidekick,” Astrid says, and she gets out of the car. “We can aspire to more.” She shuts the door behind her and steels herself for the barrage of questions from her parents.

#fanfiction #my fic #hiccup #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #astrid hofferson #teen wolf au #madeline writes #astrid #toothless #cry havoc #ch #glassnightfury

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mighty-ant · 5 years

Note

Would you ever(have you ever) write about gizmoduck and darkwing geeking out over meeting the Duck avenger- I like to think DA inspired the two hero’s so it’s like 2 teens meeting their favorite artist.

Mankind learns about the existence of aliens on a Saturday morning.

Unfortunately, that introduction comes in the form of an alien invasion.

Massive, violet ships appear over Duckburg, looming ponderous and deadly. From their bowels emerge dozens of flying skiffs, with monstrous beings astride them. The aliens look uncannily like ducks, but their limbs are grossly elongated, each of them an easy seven feet tall, their beaks filled with serrated teeth.

Hundreds of news stations capture the outpouring of death, as the aliens explode free from the confines of their ships like furious wasps emerging from their nest.

But the city is not completely without its defenses.

Being the home of the richest duck in the world has its perks, among them being a task force to counter hostile attack. That attack usually comes in the form of a supervillain’s army of killer robots, so aliens are almost a welcome change of pace.

However, it’s not Scrooge McDuck’s Duckburg Defenders (trademark pending) that the news cameras follow. Rather, it’s the lone, relatively small, figure of Duckburg’s lone vigilante; the diabolical Duck Avenger.

Little is known about Duckburg’s hero. Appearing without warning three years previously to foil the Phantom Blot’s plan to hypnotize the city, the Duck Avenger became a staple within the city. Seen doing everything from stopping runaway trains to rescuing kites from trees, the Duck Avenger has done more than endear himself to the populace. Though he acquiesces to few television interviews, the number of personal encounters with the Duck Avenger is easily in the hundreds. He’ll smile and greet fans as he flies by, and stay at the side of those he’s saved, even when the danger is long gone.

His fighting style is fast, brutal and efficient, as the news cameras capture on that historic day. By firing a single grappling hook, he fells half a dozen aliens. He commandeers one of their strange, flying skiffs, and shoots down even more, as cameramen and newscasters alike offer astonished commentary.

In a small house on the outskirts of downtown, well away from the chaos, a teenager sits with his face nearly pressed against the television screen, watching rapt as the Duck Avenger saves the day once more.

The landline rings, the only thing that manages to tear his attention away from the news report. Since the ships appeared, the phone lines have been busy beyond belief, and the fact that it’s ringing at all is a miracle.

He rushes to answer it.

“Mamá?”

“Pollito, estás bien?

He’d seen his mother just two hours ago, when she came into his room and woke him with a goodbye kiss before she left for work. Of course, in the span of those two hours, alien spaceships blinked into existence over midtown. Where his mother is stationed.

“Sí, Mamá, I’m fine,” he assures her. He glances back at the television, just as the Duck Avenger fires a volley of missiles at one of the smaller ships. He can hear the resultant explosion from here, echoing the one onscreen.

“Fenton, don’t leave the house under any circumstances,” his mother orders in a tone that brooks no argument, not that he would be foolish enough to do so. “Be smart, and stay safe until I can get home, okay? Everything’s crazy down here.”

Fenton nods, though he knows she can’t see it. On screen, the aliens are firing wildly at people that are just trying to get away. He clutches the phone tight with both hands. “Okay, Mamá. Be careful!”

“I will, Pollito,” she replies warmly. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Fenton listens to the dial tone for a long moment, his heart somewhere near his throat. He can hear the strange warbling of the alien ships from here, at odds with the perfect normalcy of his kitchen.

The newscasters begin shouting excitedly from the living room, distracting him from his encroaching panic.

“Duck Avenger, he—”

“This is incredible—”

Fenton rushes out of the kitchen, throwing himself in front of the TV so hard he gets rug burn on his knees. But the pain is quickly overridden by awe at what he is watching on the screen.

The largest of the alien ships is just gone, leaving behind a sudden expanse of clear blue sky.

“It seems as though the Duck Avenger discovered a way to send the mothership back to wherever it came from—I’m getting reports of something called a ‘transwarp coil,’ which DA is instructing the Defender strike teams on how to find in the other—”

“In a matter of seconds, Duck Avenger has saved hundreds, possibly thousands of lives with his quick thinking—”

In awe, Fenton watches the blur that’s the Duck Avenger rocket across the sky with his jetpack shield, picking off the few aliens that haven’t already begun to flee. He watches, and wonders if he can help people too.

A thousand miles away, in a chilly basement in Kung Pow City, Drake Mallard struggles to get a working signal to his small television set.

The static and snowy screen finally clears, and Drake backs away carefully as the picture comes into focus.

The first reports started coming in in the middle of his training session, and Drake had been ready to run off to the nearest bar with a working television to determine the extent of the damage.

But not even an alien invasion was enough to convince his old master to end training early, and Drake was put through his paces with perhaps more gusto than usual. Goose Lee wasn’t particularly forgiving to students who tried to play hooky, whether or not their hometown’s sister city was under attack by a hostile extraterrestrial force.

By the time his teacher deigned to let him go, the attack was already over. The world hadn’t ended, which was a good sign, but he still had no idea what had even happened.

Drake raced back to his basement apartment in the city proper, where half of Kung Pow City was celebrating in the streets. He took to the rooftops to avoid the worst of the crowds, leaping over alleyways with growing skill and confidence. At last, he was able to retreat to the comforting solitude of his temporary home.

His television is on loan from the storekeeper upstairs, and is at least thirty years out of date, but it finally gets a signal. And Drake sees that the person responsible for saving the world is just who he hoped it would be.

The Duck Avenger is being interviewed on some international news channel, the smouldering remains of an alien craft splayed out on the street behind him. The report has been translated into Chinese, which Drake only understands bits and pieces of, but that hardly matters. What they’re saying hardly matters.

All that matters is that the Duck Avenger is still standing, and not just that, but standing proud and resolute. He’s practically black and blue with bruises, one creeping out from under his mask in what must be a spectacular black eye. The feathers on his head are singed, and it looks like his cape was ripped off his shoulders.

But for all that, he’s smiling. He’s still standing.

Drake reaches out with careful fingers, the static fuzz haloing the television screen making his feathers stand slightly on end. He touches the screen over where the Duck Avenger is still speaking; from the bits Drake can understand, he’s explaining who the aliens were and why they invaded.

His training has been grueling. There’s hardly a moment when his body doesn’t ache, that his muscles aren’t sore to the point of immovability. Even at that very moment, he’s fighting the urge to fall asleep on the floor. But his training is nearly complete. He’s so close to going back home.

And Drake knows (hopes, God how he hopes) that one day, that’ll be him on the television screen, standing proud and tall as he protects his city.

It takes ten years, but the Evronians return to Earth with a bone to pick.

It takes ten years, but the sight of his most fearsome enemy gives Donald no choice but to don the cape and cowl of the Duck Avenger once more.

It’s a grimly familiar sight, the alien ships hovering over Autobahn Bay. They’re vaguely blimp-shaped, at least a hundred meters long, and almost indistinguishable against the night sky. Only the clusters of blinking lights on their faces give them away, reminding Donald eerily of eyes leering down at the two cities.

There’s also double the number of ships than the last invasion, which means double the Evronians, double the weapons, double the trouble.

But as luck would have it, Donald isn’t facing them alone this time.

New heroes have cropped up in the decade since he retired.

There’s Gizmoduck, of course (who Donald strongly suspects is really Fenton, unable to imagine who else his Uncle Scrooge would trust in the suit). He’s still a little green, but more than makes up for it with a stunning intellect and dogged determination that verges on stubbornness.

Launchpad, the only one who knows his secret identity (it’s bizarrely impossible to keep secrets from him), insists on joining too, for which Donald is grateful. The pilot’s genial nature belies a terrifyingly strategic mind, and a fighting prowess that matches Donald’s own.

But following in Launchpad’s wake is someone Donald has never met before, in or out of the mask.

St. Canard’s resident vigilante, Darkwing Duck, is the last to join their superhero posse. Donald knows precious little about him, relying on the hearsay that trickles out of Duckburg’s sister city. Shadows and smoke, threats in the dark carried out with brutal efficiency; the way Donald hears it told, the Darkwing Duck is a nightmare made real.

Which is why he finds it more than a little confusing when both Gizmoduck and Darkwing halt their friendly bickering (well, friendly on Gizmoduck’s part) to gawk at him when he pulls up in his 313.

“You’re…” Gizmoduck starts to say, only to trail off.

Darkwing Duck continues to blink, gaping like a fish out of water.

“Hey, DA!” Launchpad calls with a small wave, the only person to react normally to Donald’s arrival.

“Looks like the gang’s all here,” Donald comments as he greets Launchpad with a fistbump.

Darkwing makes a choked sort of noise.

“Duck Avenger!” Gizmoduck cries, zooming over to his side. “What—I mean, I what an honor! To be working with you, I mean! I-I’m Gizmoduck, but you already knew that didn’t you?”

Donald can’t help but chuckle, reaching out to shake Gizmoduck’s massive robotic hand. Definitely Fenton; he’s never met a man who can ramble half as well. “‘Course I know who you are. Great job handling Beaks, by the way. I think the conviction might finally stick this time.”

Gizmoduck’s positively beaming, an oddly endearing expression on what amounts to a seven foot tall robot that that’s quite literally armed to the teeth.

Darkwing clears his throat, getting Donald’s attention. “Ahem. Duck Avenger.” He nods once, a diplomatic gesture, his expression carefully aloof.

His answering smile wry, Donald extends a hand in greeting. “Darkwing Duck,” he replies in the same respectful tone. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” (From Launchpad at least, and he’d emphasized the hero’s non-terrifying qualities. Donald never would’ve guessed that the terror that flapped in the night loved mint chip ice cream as much as the next guy)

Darkwing looks at his hand for a second too long, before accepting the handshake. He pumps Donald’s hand up and down once, businesslike, but he doesn’t let go right away. Something flickers behind Darkwing’s eyes that Donald can’t name, but it leaves his expression strangely open.

“Thank you,” Darkwing says gruffly, before releasing his hand.

Donald doesn’t think it’s the handshake he’s been thanked for.

A steady droning fills the air, like the buzzing of a thousand angry bees, saving Donald from having to think up a reply. He looks up at the Evronian ships, floating docile until now, and activates his X-Transformer shield.

“What’s the plan, Duck Avenger?” Gizmoduck asks, simultaneously eager and anxious.

“I was gonna ask you two the same thing,” Donald smirks, making a show of rolling his shoulder and stretching his arms. “Technically, I’m still retired, and you guys have been at this for a while. So? Any ideas?”

The two heroes blink, their professional veneers thinned by sheer surprise. But then Gizmoduck is projecting a scan he’d taken of the Evronian flagship and pointing out potential weak spots. Darkwing Duck, after asking Launchpad if he’d gassed up the ‘Thunderquack’, starts extolling the virtues of his plane’s not insignificant firepower.

For Donald, it’s a reassuring sight.

It was nice not to be alone any more.

#ant writes #I wrote a whole fic I hope you're proud of yourself #you can't tell me fenton and DW aren't huge nerds #duck avenger #paperinik #darkwing duck #gizmoduck #fenton crackshell-cabrera #donald duck #launchpad mcquack #au

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a-shadows-tear · 4 years

Text

The Boy Far from Home

The young boy woke up to the sound of a fight between his father with someone over the phone. He was only two turning three in two months and it was expected that this memory in future was never to remember this. He was too young. He came down from the not so comfortable couch, clutching a light blanket which was royal blue in his tiny grip of one hand, the other hand was a little fist rubbing his tired eyes. His tiny footsteps were inaudible as he walked into the kitchen where his father was.

“Daddy?” the young boy questioned, looking up at him with his eyes half open due to the kitchens light being too bright to adjust to at the moment. His father stopped his harsh words and turned, a soft smile on his lips. “just a moment buster” his father spoke in his soft, deep tone. The young boy nodded and waddled back into the sitting room and got back onto the couch. He looked about in curiosity at what to do but he soon stopped being bored, he became scared.

A loud smash came from the kitchen and he hopped down from the couch yet again, clinging onto his blanket. “Dad-” He couldn’t finish his sentence as his father had sprinted out, taking the young boy into his strong arms. The young boy clinging onto his father’s shirt, eyes tightly shut. His father grabbed two bags that had already been packed in advance for whatever reason that the young boy didn’t even bother questioning, as well as Quinn’s jacket and shoes.

Gunshots and yells of his father’s name were the only things the young boy heard. he was now crying, the fear of the harsh sounds and now the sound of a ship engine. The boy was sat down in a chair far too big for him and the seatbelt put on him. He opened his eyes to see his father with that generous smile of his on his face, it made the crying boy stop, especially when the man said, ”you’re going to be fine buster”. If he was any older, he would have known that this was an ok scenario.

They were upon the Ranger, a ship that was aided by the a.i Alanzo. With the call of the a.i’s name, a voice greeted them. “hello captain and Quinn”, he spoke. The little boy in his innocence replied with an adorable, “hi Alanzo”. The ship shook and things weren’t so happy anymore. “get us to Mars Alanzo, this is a code 21″, the captain spoke and the ship soon took off to the location issued by the captain.

The young boy was Quinn Zephyr. His father was Charlie Zephyr, better know by the galaxy as Captain Pleasant. The captain though wasn’t pleasant like his name was… In this current moment in time, Quinn knew nothing about why he was being brought to mars and he certainly didn’t know what a code 21 was either. He didn’t speak, all he did was look out the window at the planet he was born on fade into the dark sky filled with dancing stars. He held onto his blanket, sometimes tearing up but wouldn’t cry in the fears of distracting his father in his work.

At some stage, young Quinn had fallen asleep due to the long, boring journey and woke up when they had arrived on Mars. His father had woken him up and picked him up. he brought him over and got a small box down from the shelf. he opened it and took out a small disc-like piece. He crouched to one knee and stuck the metallic piece behind the boy’s ear. “I got this made for you. Its a mask. go on, press the little button”, he said to Quinn, watching the young boy press the button and a mask came over his face. He was now looking through two blue lenses at his father who put in a similar mask. “These masks are oxygenated which means that we can go onto Mars and breath till we are in the safe zone. the mask will change in size naturally as you grow older”, he said. Quinn’s eyes lit up, “that’s so cool! I’m like a hero!” he cheered. The captain laughed softly and got one of the two bags, took his son’s hand, “yeah, just like a hero” he replied to the excited Quinn. The door opened for them to get off onto the bridge, Alanzo spoke before departing, “goodbye young Quinn…”. If only he knew why Alanzo only said goodbye to him and his father.

The city had an oxygenated field but to get in you must travel on a bridge with no oxygen is present. A guard stood there at the gateway in and his father gave him two cards. Fake I.D. The guard nodded and they walked through the gate. His father took off his mask but Quinn was too busy thinking he was a superhero with his blanket now as a cape. There was a long walk down a road till the city came into sight, Quinn ran ahead but his father called his name. They weren’t going to the city. The trail now was filled with the red sand of mars, small huts coming into view. Quinn reached up and took his father’s hand as they walked past some of these huts. People came out or were out already. they all stared and some mad nasty comments. “ah, look at the lil’ one. he will be scraps to the dogs if he ain’t careful”. Quinn winced and quickly moved closer to his father. This place was a place of the poor, people were thrown out of the city. This land was called Salvatoria, the land of the poor and the junk lands.

The reached a hut which had many types of things outside like bikes that were made from scratch, scraps of metal and a little toy robot. His father knocked on the door and it opened. A man slightly older than Charlie came out with a smile on his face as he wiped the oil off his hands with a dirty rag. his smile was loving and generous but that soon faded. The man looked down at Quinn who still had his mask on then back to the captain. “I wasn’t expecting you both so early… come in,” he said, movie aside for them to come in. The man looked about the outside of the hut and quickly closed the door.

“who was that honey?”, came the voice of a woman. She soon came into view for Quinn to see. She looked as shocked and scared as the man did when he laid eyes upon Quinn and his father. Charlie put a hand behind his son’s ear to take deactivate the mask. Quinn’s teary eyes and terrified face came into view, he then broke into tears with a sad sob and cry, reaching out for his father to take him into his arms. His father picked him up and hushed him, kissing the top of his head. “no need to cry, buddy. You’re safe” he started. His father sat down as did the man and woman who seemed to have expected them both. His father began to sing a lullaby while rocking his son in his arms. A lullaby the young boy was not familiar nor anyone else.

“When you feel scared and all alone, I will always be with you little one. Don’t waste those tears, just close your eyes and you will see me. if you can’t sleep at night, look up at the stars and smile because that’s where I will be, son. Hush your confused little mind, close your eyes and listen to me young boy… you are my son and I am your father… my love for you will burn like the sun. So don’t cry and feel scared in this world, for you are the captain’s son”

Quinn listened to the words and closed his eyes, hearing his father hum on with the same trying tune. He soon fell asleep in the warm, safe arms of his father. He awoke several hours later on a soft mattress with multiple blankets surrounding him, he was no longer in his father’s arms. he sat up and clumsily got away from all the blankets but kept his loyal blanket with him. He slowly walked into the room beside her he lay to see no one. “Daddy?” he called, hugging his blanket. He hurried to the next room, no one. “D-daddy?”. The next room and then the room after that he found the man and woman from the night before working on something he didn’t care about. “Where’s my Daddy?” he asked in a small shaky voice. “he just left kiddo… but he will be back soon,” the man said in a soft tone. As nice as the man was, as kind the woman was, Quinn didn’t want them. He shook his head and began to cry. “no… I want my daddy to come back now! I want my daddy!” He cried. He did calm down after a while, the man and woman cheered him up by making pancakes. He learned their names, Astrid and Tyrone. He learned some of the robots names they made or help fixed that went around the house or helped them with the amazing things they made, making friend with a small drone who got kicked out of the city named Rocky. They sat on the doorstep together gazing up at the stars, waiting for his dad to return. he did that the next night, the night after that, and many more nights after that too.

They say that you may regret saying or doing something in the past as you believe if you changed what you said or did would get a better result. Quinn regretted this. He regretted falling asleep. He could never sleep the same again. If he didn’t fall asleep, he could have at least said goodbye to his father. As he grew older, he forgot his real father as he was too young to remember and too sad to ever want to remember that his father had left him for a reason he was yet to learn.

all he can remember is the silly little lullaby.

end of part 1

#Quinn Zephyr #my ocs #original character do not steal #my idea #space pirates au #i cried writing this #i hope you enjoy #Quinn's backstory

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specialblog · 2 years

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We have already gone through this. Ratchet & Clank Review: Rift Apart

Right from the start, Rift Apart starts to flex its muscles, demonstrating what many people bought the PlayStation 5 for - cool graphics. It burns out the retina with vivid special effects, everything around makes noise, whistles and explodes, scattering into hundreds of parts and bolts.

The character models, as well as the environments, are executed at the highest level, allowing you to see every fold on your clothes, every hair - Insomniac has really reached the level of interactive animated cartoons. Shadows, particle and smoke effects, physics - Rift Apart can be deservedly one of the most technologically advanced games of recent years. And everything works at 60 frames per second even with ray tracing enabled (depending on the selected graphics mode like Dispel magic 5e).

As it should be, the plot in Rift Apart is just for show and is needed only in order to justify the heroes' tours to various planets. Clank built a so-called "Gauge" for Ratchet - a unique device capable of opening portals to other dimensions - to help him find the Lobmax people. But everything is spoiled by the sudden appearance of Doctor Nefarius, who with his clawed paws inadvertently breaks a cunning device, because of which the trinity is pulled into a parallel dimension, where Nefarius is not a pitiful loser, but a powerful and evil emperor, under whose heel the common people are in constant fear. However, in addition to the improved version of Nefarius, there is also a Lombax girl named Rivet, who leads a selfless struggle against the tyrant. Together, the heroes will have to defeat two villains and stop the catastrophe that threatens all dimensions.

Although all tasks are lined up the same - to fly to the planet, get to point "A" to pick up an item, and then return to point "B" - Rift Apart cannot be called boring. The game offers a myriad of ways to solve trivial tasks, putting an entire army of enemies between the heroes and their goals, and also occasionally forcing them to strain gray matter to solve puzzles.

Somewhere you need to zip on anti-gravity boots, somewhere you can only get on horseback on a high-speed slug or rush on a monorail. In one of the tasks, you need to fly astride a fire-breathing lizard and shoot down battle barges (the only thing missing was Wagner's "Boku no Pico"), and in the other you have to wander around a half-flooded underwater base, along which an immortal monster prowls. At each level, you can also stumble upon portals to parallel dimensions, hiding various secrets.

Most of the time, Rift Apart maintains a steady pace, alternating between skirmishes with opponents and episodes with running along the walls and swinging on energy cables. The slippage begins only when we are allowed to play as Clank. The sections with him are more like addict trips, where he has to solve puzzles with spheres in the style of Lemmings. These Clank trips are not only boring, but also noticeably drop frame rates for no apparent reason.

As before, frequent use of a certain type of weapon increases its effectiveness. Cannons can also be pumped in Mrs. Zurkon's shop - a different dimension, gender roles have changed. In total, you can get 20 types of weapons in Rift Apart, most of which will become available in the shop automatically, but some guns can only be obtained in the Challenge Mode or earned. The same HuniePop 2, which opens portals to other dimensions, from which all trash and even robots from Zero Dawn begin to fall on the heads of enemies, becomes available exclusively after finding all the spy robots.

As for the PlayStation 5's ad tricks, namely the super-fast SSD and DualSense, the Insomniac has put them to good use. Transitions between dimensions occur instantly: in one of the episodes, Rivet in 40 seconds sweeps through four completely different locations with a bullet, without slowing down at all. DualSense, in turn, allows you to feel each weapon with the help of resistive triggers, tactile recoil, or listen to the clicking of an empty bolt when there is a lack of ammunition.

For all its merits, Rift Apart remains the next game in the Ratchet and Clank series. Jumping on platforms, an extensive arsenal of bizarre weapons, races on monorails, a simple and comic plot - all this was already in one form or another. This is not to say that this is bad, but it is also impossible to praise the game for staying in place. It's been five years since the last Ratchet and Clank was released on PS4.

Diagnosis

If you own a PlayStation 5, then the Rift Apart must be in your library. It is a near-perfect combat platformer with impressive graphics, great design and dynamic gameplay that will be appreciated by both fans of the Ratchet and Clank series and newbies.

Pro

Visual component

Comic plot

Music

Dynamic gameplay

Extensive arsenal

DualSense cannon feel

Contra

Even at a high difficulty level, the Rift Apart is simple

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scorpio-karma · 6 years

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Your top 10 favourite WoCs in TV shows?

Sorry I’m getting to this late, but I was at work when I got it and I work long hours also I’m usually tired after, especially for this ask. I always knew peripherally that there aren’t that many WOC are on TV, but this ask kinda made realize exactly how few.

Now it’s been a hot minute since I’ve watched TV in general, except for a few select shows here and there it’s been about 3 years since I’ve watched a new show and that includes Netflix because I don’t have Netflix so this was a particularly hard question because I had to a) remember what I used to watch in TV when I watched TV and b) were there WOC on that show? The answer to that question was often no (Charmed, Supernaural,) and then if they did have WOC I had to think did I like that character and the answer to that was also no (Dreama from Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Emily from Life With Derrick).

So in no particular order just the order I thought of them in, here’s my top 10 WOC in TV:

1. Bonnie Bennett from Vampire Diaries

I kind of put her on here begrudgingly because though I absolutely love her character she’s a character you have to love in spite of the writing. You can find many a meta from me and many others on how badly she was treated, so I’m not going to get into that and focus on the reasons I like her. For one she’s a witch which as a quality in general doesn’t count for much unless you’re me and absolutely love witches and have watched a lot of things specifically because there’s a witch in it. It’s literally the only reason I watched Charmed and Sabrina the Teenage Witch as a kid. So due to that fact she was always going to be my favorite character. Two she’s the most practical which again is not trait that means that much unless you’re me. It’s a quality I’ve always valued in characters and is probably the biggest reason why I hate Elena and characters like her. And lastly she was a character who was just teeming with potential which is why I spend so much time talking about her.

2. Qetsiyah from Vampire Diaries

I also put her on this list begrudgingly and love her for the same exact reasons as I love Bonnie except for one add addendum, she’s played by Janina Gavankar, my girl crush. She to me is one of the most beautiful women on the planet, so pretty much anything she’s in I am biased, but I do love what she adds to anything she’s in. She has this presence that I don’t quite know how to describe, but she always has my attention. She’s is such a force of nature and I guess I love this role specifically because she is a force of nature–the entire show’s lore is ingrained in this character. When I think about season 5 and how shit it was I realize that what I remember the most and in the greatest detail is her–she for me was the only good thing about that season.

3. Rachel Pirzad from Alphas

Most of my followers probably have no idea who she is as this was a short lived show on Syfy and I honestly only watched it because I had a crush on Ryan Cartwright at the time. If I’m ever into some obscure show that’s usually the reason. Anyway from that show my favorite characters were Gary (Ryan Cartwright’s character) and Rachel the girl with the ability to enhance her senses. Not only was she beautiful but I identified with her character a lot in being introverted, and her issues with people touching her, plus I loved how they incorporated her family and how that effected how she approached the world. She was often scared with legitimate reason to especially as a Iranian woman in the U.S, but was brave as well.

4. Tia and Tamera from Sister Sister

Now this is really bringing y’all way back, but when I think about shows that shaped my childhood this one sticks out in a big way. I don’t know if this phenomenon has ended but I remember as a kid Twins being a big deal in the entertainment world. Mary-Kate and Ashley, Zach and Cody, that basketball twin movie on Disney channel, that other model twin movie on Disney Channel, The Parent Trap, the list could go on. I don’t see this as much any more but I also don’t watch children’s TV anymore. And of that era my favorite set of twins was Tia and Tamera, and not necessarily because they were black and the only ones I could identify with, but because they were the only ones I found consistently entertaining. The draw from them wasn’t that they were twins, sure that was the premise of the show, but that wasn’t what the entire show was about past the first season. The majority of their shenanigans didn’t revolve around “we look exactly the same” it actually spent a lot more time on their differences and individuality.

5. Mona Thorne from Half & Half

Another one that’s from way back. A character from a show on a channel that doesn’t exist anymore. This is a character I liked for two reasons. One, she was then underdog which for me in general is kinda an automatic like from me, and two I identified with her on many levels. If you don’t know the premise of the show it’s about two half sisters who reconnect later in life. Their related through their father who’s very rich and had very different childhoods due to this. I identified with Mona because that was essentially kind of my childhood. While my dad isn’t rich but definitely lives in a income bracket higher than me and my mom I understood what is was like watching my half-siblings live a more privileged life than me. I was a lot less bitter because I understood living in a higher bracket meant living with my dad which I didn’t want, but she was one of those characters that spoke to me.

6. Bessie Lovin from Damnation

A recent one, finally. I quite love how her character and story was handled. She’s a whore, but her value is in her intelligence. She has her own story arc and unlike a lot of shows, for a secondary character you learn a lot about her. Plus her relationship with Creeley was just the sweetest thing. I even made an edit about it. She was hands down my favorite character of the short-lived series.

7. Astrid Finch from The Tomorrow People

Another one I put on here kind of begrudgingly because the show she comes from isn’t that great, but when I think about her impact years later I realize she and John (my ship) were the best part of the show and the only two I actually wonder about since the show was cancelled.

8. Geena Fabiano from Unfabulous

I’m putting her on here tentatively because while the actress is a WOC the character is not, or at least had no indications of being anything other than Italian. I’m one of the few people who really liked Anna on TVD and she is the entire reason why. Honestly the only reason I ever watch TVD in the first place was because I recognized Nina from Degrassi and the only real reason I stayed for the rest of the season (let’s be honest S1 is really cheesy) was because I recognized other actors from shows/movies I used to watch like Jasmine Guy from A Different World, Kelly Hu from X2, and Malese Jow from Unfabulous. I guess what I loved about her is how confident and outspoken and how completely fearless she was to be herself. She made for a great best friend for Addie, but in a weird twist of events because I usually root for the underdog, I wanted a show about her instead of Addie. I mean she just did a whole lot more than Addie.

9. Skye/Daisey Johnson from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

She’s a character I didn’t like that much at first and that’s because in the beginning she’s set up like a literal Mary-Sue. I’m not talking about the loose term used, I’m talking about the origin of Mary Sue. In the pilot she’s set up like those fanfics where an person is dropped in some universe and gets to live out their dream of seeing Superman, or something to that effect, and those are just not my cup of tea, I didn’t even finish the season, I didn’t actually pick up the show again until the show was well into season 4, but she grew on me. In a weird way I do kinda miss her season 1 self, but I understand why she’s not–she’s had quite a bit of development over the years, she’s no longer the naive optimist anymore which is more my speed as a character because I like pragmatism in characters. She does annoy me from time to time when she doesn’t do the practical thing, but I realize emotions rule people’s decisions a lot more than logic.

10. Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn Nine Nine

She is literally the epitome of qualities I like in characters. She’s for one badass, very pragmatic, but I love about her most is that even with all of that she’s not a robot. There’s a balance to her character you don’t get to see often with characters like this which is what I identify with because I’m quite apathetic but at the same time empathetic which is a weird contradiction but I’m full of them. She’s kinda a contradiction but it seems to go together seamlessly.

Honorable mentions:

1. Lana Lang from Smallville

Weirdly I don’t hate her, and I say that because she has a lot of qualities of a character like Elena Gilbert, constantly the Damsel in Distress, but anyone who watched Smallville would know that if you’re not Clark Kent every character is essentially a damsel in distress, so that’s not really a quality that can be annoying in that context. Another thing that annoys me with Elena is that her actions rarely meet what’s said about her. There’s a lot of over hyping when it comes to Lana’s character as well, but for the most part she met those expectations or clarified that she wasn’t. I found little contradiction with this character. The reason she didn’t make the list for me is that she’s just a little too bland for my liking.

2. Angela Moore from Boy Meets World

As far as token characters go she’s not a bad representation. Her story lines didn’t revolve around furthering other’s (white) characters development. She wasn’t known as the best friend, or the ugly one. There is an immediate attraction from Shawn to her and even Cory to a degree because he too recognizes her beauty. BMW was a very white show so I’m very sure she was added to meet their diversity quota, but what I liked about that is that she wasn’t added begrudgingly–the was some real effort put into adding her as a character. Plus I like that they didn’t do what shows normally do which is cast the lightest black girl they can find when they’re told they need diversity. They committed to it and then at the same time kinda of not when I think about her break up with Shawn. The only reason she didn’t make it in the top for me is because I don’t really remember much about her. I watched a lot of BMW but I’m very sure I missed a lot of episodes and I can’t quite remember her introduction. Her identifier for me was Shawn’s girlfriend, and I guess I kinda wanted more.

3. Shirley Bennett from Community

Community is one of my favorite shows of all time and I do love Shirley in all her Evangelist glory, but she’s not my favorite. When it comes to community there’s not a single character I hate–they’re all great–but Shirley doesn’t really rank high for me. She’s definitely not a bad representation or even a token character because out of all of them she seemed the most real to me who was the only character who had anything important going on outside of the group. In fact that’s kinda the running gag of the paintball episodes–the show makes the situation so epic and series but the reality is that the real world has things going on and it’s usually shown through her who has children and a husband that takes presidence over them but that never stops her from giving to her all. She’s actually really bad ass. The reason why she didn’t meet the ranking is just that she’s not a character I overly identify with, but she rather represents more someone I know.

#my top 10 #woc in tv

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astridthevalkyrie · 6 years

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I Knew You Were Trouble: Chapter 19

Modern AU. Jerkcup/Nerdstrid. After getting knocked out, Astrid could only hope that she was beginning to imagine things. Because being stuck with Hiccup Haddock for a week HAS to be a delusion...right? Rated T for language and sexual references.

Chapter 18

There was nothing else going through his mind, just that Dagur had hurt Astrid while trying to hurt Toothless and that Dagur was going to stop hurting people because Hiccup was going to hurt him instead.

He shouted for Snotlout to help Astrid and ran towards Dagur.

Really, he would much rather have stayed with Astrid, to make sure she was okay. But if he wasted time then Dagur would just hurt more people and Heather was already hurt and now Astrid was hurt and he wanted to hurt Dagur for being the cause of all of it.

Dagur saw him coming, and grabbed the hand the knife was in before twisting his arm back. Hiccup hissed in pain as the knife fell, but he wasn’t done. He raised a fist and punched the red haired boy, snarling even as his fist protested.

It brought a split lip in Dagur’s case. But it also brought back a fist for Hiccup, and a much harder one at that. He stumbled back, with a broken nose most likely, as Dagur punched him again, this time in the stomach.

Hiccup wouldn’t fall, even if he could taste blood.

So he didn’t crumble, his resolve wouldn’t let him crumble. But the floor did.

It started under Dagur’s feet and began to spread, and Hiccup was falling - falling until someone grabbed both his hands and screamed in pain.

It was Astrid - and - and he could see the blood on her shoulder and with a groan he pulled himself up, trying to get it through to her that she wasn’t supposed to come after him, that she was supposed to be out of this damned building and the chaos it was bringing. The chaos that Dagur was bringing.

But something in him softened at seeing her - that she stayed. For him. Even though she had just been stabbed. She cared about him enough to stay. She really did.

It was as he was wrapping cloth around her shoulder that her eyes widened in terror and it took him half a second to realize that the sky was falling on them.

So Hiccup dived over her without really thinking, and he let out a pained yelp as he felt a horribly hard piece pierce his leg. The weight of everything on him crushed Astrid as well, and she passed out.

There were sirens outside. Someone was here, than Thor, they would help her, they would -

Suddenly his leg was on fire, and he knew no more.

Hiccup had lost his leg.

Astrid had been told this information about ten minutes after waking up in the hospital. It was early morning, and apparently, some time throughout the night, there had been a decision to amputate Hiccup’s leg.

So it infuriated her to no end that the whole family was there when she woke up. Coddling her. All she had were a few stitches. She’d had to wrestle the information out of her mother - as well as learn that the others, including Heather, were unscatched and Toothless was back at the orphanage.

When she was finally allowed to walk around, some of her aunts cheered, and Astrid rolled her eyes. This was ridiculous. She wanted to see him, needed to see him -

To thank him, and to apologize.

Hiccup had taken the hit for her. And just a few hours before, she had accused him of helping a kidnapper. Astrid had a headache.

“I guess now we know that I have the better taste in boys,” Rosie said, grinning, once everyone was eating the horrible hospital food that Astrid couldn’t stomach at the moment.

Astrid froze, turning to face her cousin with a look of disbelief. “What did you just say?”

“You know where my boyfriend took me last night?” she asked with a smirk. “To a romantic dinner date. Meanwhile, you went to...what? A criminal. Nice standards, Astrid.”

“We went,” she growled with gritted teeth, “to get back a ten year old. An orphan.”

“Mmhm. And the best part is, along the way, your boyfriend becomes a cripple!” Rosie snorted, and the sudden anger the flooded through Astrid made its way into words.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Astrid hissed, taking a step forward. “He lost his leg, and you’re making jokes about him? The least you all could do it let me see him. And the best you personally can do, Rosie, is never talk about him again with your filthy mouth.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “Bitch.”

With that, she brushed past her, ignoring her mother’s calls to come back. She was so sick of this. So sick of her family. She wanted to see her Hiccup, and neither the Hofferson clan nor the weak-willed woman who said only family was allowed to see Hiccup Haddock was going to stop her.

He had a private room, and Astrid, barging in, halted when she saw the towering figure of Stoick Haddock standing there.

They blinked at each other, until the man said quietly, “Hiccup is still asleep. He woke up very early, but was only awake for an hour.”

“Oh.” Astrid ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“No harm done,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Here, you can come sit.”

So she did.

Hiccup looked...okay. He looked calm. She could imagine he hadn’t been so calm when he first woke up, but right now, he did. Small brown tufts of hair fell on his fair, with a few going to his eyes. She reached out and pushed the hair back, for a moment not caring that his father was watching. It would be a little too much if she kissed his forehead, though.

“Are you alright, Astrid?” Stoick asked quietly.

“I’m fine, sir.” She took a deep breath and leaned back. “I just got a few stitches on my shoulder. Dagur - he threw a knife at me.”

“Thor,” he breathed, “he really is a madman, isn’t he?”

“Oh, I think stabbing me is the least offensive crime he’s committed.”

They were silent for a few minutes. Her gaze fell back on Hiccup, how peaceful he looked, how brave he’d been - all of them had been brave yesterday, if nothing else.

All these feelings because of one basketball. Yeesh.

“He really looks up to you,” Astrid said suddenly to Stoick, who raised a brow. “He acts out so you notice him. He doesn’t think you approve of him.”

“He...of course I approve of him -” Stoick began, leaning forward, but Astrid shook her head and interrupted.

“Sir, you - if you measure someone by accomplishments, I wish you were my dad. Hiccup, though? He...he…” Astrid took a deep breath, trying to find the words. “I don’t think he thinks he’s good enough to be your son.”

When Stoick didn’t say anything, she kept going. “But he is. Gods, I - I didn’t like him at all a week ago. But, once I went past seeing him as a...jerk…” She cringed, but Stoick waved his hand to indicate it was fine and to keep going. “And once he stopped seeing me as, I don’t know, some robot, I...really liked who I saw.”

“Clearly he did too,” Stoick said wryly, gesturing to his son with a nod.

Astrid blushed fiercely, but nodded. “I’m not telling you how to parent or anything, I wouldn’t know the first thing, but I...really really like your son and his friends. I think they’re a lot more than what people like me or you could see them as.”

Stoick studied her for a few seconds before saying, “I think you’re right, Miss Astrid Hofferson.” His lips quirked in a smile and his eyes shone with amusement the same way Hiccup’s did. “I think you’re very right.”

So they sat there, not saying much after that, but Astrid had a feeling that they didn’t need to.

When Hiccup woke up again, Astrid Hofferson was sitting next to him, leaning back with her arms crossed and her eyes closed. She looked to be resting her eyes, but not sleeping. No one else was in the room.

He didn’t know what to do or why she was there.

“Astrid?”

Her eyes flew open and a relieved smile graced her lips. “Hiccup! You’re awake!”

“Is that what you call having your eyes open and being alert? I had no idea,” he teased, trying to sit up.

“Whoa, whoa. I don’t think you’re supposed to do that just yet.”

It did sting, just a little, so he lay back down. Astrid looked comfortable where she was, but she leaned forward and asked gently, “How do you feel?”

“Like a million bucks, milady.”

“Alright, that’s enough sarcasm out of you today.” Astrid rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling at seeing him awake. It made him giddy, and almost made him forget that he no longer had a leg.

“Your dad just left to get something to eat. He should be back soon.”

“Right.”

Hiccup didn’t break his gaze from her. There was still no explanation for why Astrid was there (wasn’t she missing school? Would she have missed school anyway? Did Astrid like anyone enough to miss school?) but he didn’t want to ask. He wanted her to stay.

After a few awkward seconds, they both spoke the same thing at the same time.

“So-”

“-rry.”

“Sorry?” Astrid asked, astonished. “For what?”

He wanted to laugh. Didn’t she know? There was so much to be sorry for on his part.

“For...for making this all happen. This stuff with Dagur. For getting Toothless kidnapped. For - oh, I know, for being a dick to you. For slapping you. For throwing a basketball at you. For - mmf.”

He was cut off as she pressed her lips against his, although he wasn't complaining. A pleasant wave of - of Astrid - rode into his senses. What was it about this girl that made kissing her so amazing?

She had moved from the chair to the bed and was letting their lips meld in unison. Hiccup slid an arm around her waist, because gods, she was kissing him she was kissing him she was actually kissing him -

“Stop…” Astrid murmured, finally pulling back. “Blaming yourself. Please. There’s…there’s enough dramatic things about this situation without you taking all this bullshit on yourself.”

So he did. She was staring at him like that so of course he did as she said.

Then she took a deep breath. “I'm sorry too. I called you names, I twisted your arm. I insulted your friends. I...I accused you of aiding a criminal.” She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on his. “I did all that and...I’m sorry.”

Maybe a week ago, Hiccup would have wanted to make a video of somehow getting Hotshot Hofferson to apologize. But a week ago he’d been stupid, no? This kind of moment wasn't something you shared, it was one you kept close and remembered and appreciated.

He didn't want him and Astrid to fight. He wanted them to be together. To - at the least - get through high school together. All of them hanging out out with their friends and helping the kids and having fun…

Hiccup tried to lean up to kiss her but couldn't quite manage it. Astrid grinned, the twinkle in her eye telling him that she knew he was attempting to mimic her smooth move.

Hiccup pouted, and so she leaned in, and soon there were no more words. Everything was Astrid. Astrid. Her lips, her hands, her cheeks, her freckles.

Hiccup didn’t want the moment to end.

It was only when Stoick came into the room with a tray in his hand that the two teens pulled apart, blushing and stuttering and avoiding his dad’s amused glances.

But the taste of her lips was finally etched into his memory, and, judging by her smiles and hand holding and general behavior, it seemed he’d have a lot more similar memories soon.

Hopefully.

Next chapter is the last chapter! ^_^ Thanks for reading!

#httyd #hiccstrid #hiccup #astrid #stoick #valkyrie stories

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baronvontribble · 6 years

Text

Original drabble, pt. 5

Navigation: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

yeeeeeeee

It was cold on the way home the same as it had been on the way to work. The bus didn't run from anywhere near the store to anywhere near Ted's apartment building in an amount of time that made walking the less reasonable option, so he walked the whole way. By the time he got to his door, his cheeks and nose and ears stung with the cold; the relief of putting down his bags long enough to get out his keys only lasted the amount of time he spent not picking them back up again, which he inevitably had to do to go inside.

He slumped heavily against the door the moment he'd closed it and held onto the bags just long enough on their way down to the floor to make sure nothing broke, but after that, all bets were off in terms of physical activity. "I'm home," he called out, closing his eyes and letting himself breathe. Fuck, walking had been a bad idea.

"Is this where I'm supposed to ask you how your day went?" the AI's voice asked him, and Ted let out a wheezy chuckle.

"Well for starters," he said, "if we were really following the script? Slippers. And dinner. Already made, nice and hot. Falls apart when you get to the 'sit in front of the television' stage though, what with me not having one."

"That's a shame. It didn't even get to the part where you threaten physical violence if I'm not quick enough with your alcoholic beverage."

"Jesus. I think I'll skip that one, thanks. I mean for one thing, I don't drink." Heaving a sigh, Ted straightened back out and made his way to the kitchen to put the groceries away, draping his coat over a chair as he went and leaving his keys and phone on the counter. The only things that stayed out beyond that were the HD camera made for streaming purposes and the sandwich he'd bought to act as a reasonably well-rounded meal. "Where'd you hear about that shit anyway? Kinda antiquated at this point."

"Case files. Domestic cases weren't the kind of thing I handled, but I still had to be educated in how they worked. I had to be able to take notice of everything that might count as evidence in any given case because the data I recorded could be used in court." Whether Ted was anthropomorphizing or not, the tone of the AI's voice made it sound like he was smiling. "Ended up being used against a few human co-workers too. I didn't have much in the way of agency, but if I saw something, I still reported it."

"Aw, so you're a good cop."

"No." A firm statement that left no room for argument; the good-natured tone was gone just as easily as it had crept in, impressing Ted all over again at the tuning. "Good cops are the ones who stop what they're doing when they realize it's wrong."

That just sounded all kinds of wrong to Ted. "Some people might say there's a lot of grey in there. If leaving puts your life in danger, for instance. Or if you don't have any real say in what you're doing." He wasn't sure what this guy had done, but he'd never gotten a bad vibe from any of their little talks over the past couple days. And usually his instincts about people were pretty spot-on.

But that firm tone was back again, giving no ground. "Ted, please," the AI insisted, "I'd rather not talk about this."

"Seriously though," Ted continued. "I mean you left, didn't you? Yeah, maybe it took longer than it should've, I don't know enough to make any kinda call on that, but it seems to me like you had a limit to how much you were willing to-"

"Ted." The volume had been turned up significantly, hard enough to rattle the laptop's cheap onboard speakers. Admittedly that didn't take much, but it still stopped Ted dead in his tracks. "Don't."

Just like that, all the good humor had been sapped out of the room. Ted let out a slow, steadying breath. He just knew this one was gonna claw at the inside of his head for days. "Fine, I won't talk about it." Picking up the box with the camera in it and leaving the sandwich for later, he headed back over to his not-quite-desk and fell into his rickety old chair. "I didn't mean to upset you."

The volume was back to normal when the AI spoke again, and his tone was softer. "I know."

Right, time for a subject change. "Did you read your way through all the books yet?" Ted asked as he wrestled with the box the camera was in. Stupid packaging.

"Not all of them," was the reply. "But I did find a name. You've read I, Robot?"

"Hell yeah." Ted had to grin. "Gonna name yourself after Susan Calvin or something?"

"Wrong book. I meant the short story."

"Ohh..." That one was a bit older than Asimov's stories, if Ted remembered right. "Kinda dark, isn't it?"

The AI ignored his comment. "I did some research. 'Adam' is a common enough name in enough languages that if I pick a similarly common surname, I'll be relatively difficult to track effectively by my name alone."

"And I guess the literary allusion doesn't hurt either, huh?" Ted gave it some thought. "What about the biblical roots of it?"

"I haven't read the Bible."

"Y'know, ate a fruit from the tree of knowledge after watching a woman do it, and then both of them got kicked out of the Garden of Eden by God for disobeying His orders. Original sin, free will. All that jazz."

It was several seconds before he got a response. He heard the fans kick into overdrive for a moment on the main computer tower. "Right."

Damn, almost sounded like the guy had barely tuned that one at all. “What’s that mean? Like, is it good, is it bad-”

"It means I suppose I have a name now."

"You like it?" The box Ted had been struggling with tore open all at once, the cardboard giving way long before the tape did; one layer of packaging down, a bazillion more to go. He took a moment to idly suck on a finger that'd been nicked on the cardboard's edges with a quiet hiss at the way it stung. "I mean, I like it. But I'm not the one who's gotta live with it."

Machines couldn’t scoff, but this one definitely knew how to give the impression of such a thing through his voice. "Functionality is more important than whether or not I like it."

Ted snorted. "Yeah, you like it." One thing he'd learned about this guy: positive feelings were rarely ever admitted to directly. "Got a voice, got a name. Might be tempting fate to say this, but it seems to me you're just about ready to face the world, man."

"Just focus on getting the camera set up."

"I'm working on it, jeez." Foam, plastic, more plastic. Naturally, only about half of it could be recycled. The camera came with a flash drive about the same size as the end of his thumb, and included wireless capability that Ted would probably never use. He was quick to toss the trash aside for Future Ted to deal with, only hesitating when part of the 'trash' was the instructions. However, a cursory glance told him he didn't actually need instructions, and the manual promptly went back into the pile.

Then he let out a tired sigh as he ended up scooting over to what had once been his main computer to pluck out yet another bit from its wreckage: the USB extender. He'd have a lot of rebuilding to do after all of this was finished. His poor gaming rig had been reduced to a pile of spare parts. Honestly, if anyone in the pipeline ever contacted him about a job this big again, he'd probably just tell them to go sit on a cactus. Or at least be really salty about taking said job.

"This might take a little while," he said. "Gotta install the drivers, get the extender plugged into the power strip..." Within moments he was under the desk having a fight with one of the power strips connected to the battery backup, rearranging things until he could make room for the cord to the extender. "Got any music you like?"

"Depends. Am I limited in what media libraries I'm allowed to take it from?"

Ted grinned even as the dust under his not-desks had him stifling a sneeze in his elbow. "Dude, have you seen my library? Half of it is ripped straight off of video upload sites. I'm the last person who's gonna tell you where to go for that shit."

"True." Ted looked up from his work long enough to get a glimpse of the windows open on the laptop, trying to follow Adam's music search as it happened. To say it went a little fast would be an understatement; there was no way in hell he was keeping up. "It's a blend of different genres," Adam informed him. "Part symphonic, part electronic. It's also in Russian. You don't mind that, do you?"

"Not a bit." Just as long as he understood that Ted didn't speak a word of Russian. "Is that where you're from?"

There was no answer except the music as it started to play, and Ted dutifully hauled himself upright to listen.

It was pretty. Ted had no idea who the singer was when her voice entered the mix after a few bars of meandering piano and flowing strings. She had perfect pitch, whoever she was; the tone of her contralto voice made him think of long, flowing black hair framing long, elegant features. One of those fairytale maidens singing about longing and true love and all that profoundly schmoopy nonsense.

Then the beat dropped, and he envisioned the maiden tearing her dress asunder and climbing astride a winged steed while holding a battleaxe, and the longing contralto turned into a one-woman wail of anguish and howling righteousness.

"I would've loved this in high school," he said somewhere during the second chorus, awestruck. He was pretty sure there'd been some Latin in the lyrics somewhere, but he hadn't been listening very hard so it might've been a trick played on his ears. This along with something that sounded like it might've been either badly mangled English or even more badly mangled Esperanto, but he wasn't enough of an expert on linguistics to tell what the attempted lyrics were. It was exactly the kind of melancholic angsty nonsense he would've loved when he was fourteen, and at twenty-seven, he was seeing it as equal parts awesome and endearing.

Adam didn't respond until the song was over, letting it play out before saying anything. Was listening to the echo of it over the speakers and through the microphone different from reading the data of it, beyond a difference in audio quality? A question for another time, perhaps. "It's not what I usually listen to," the AI admitted, in the kind of tone one might use to describe their fondness for Rocky Horror Picture Show or The Room. "From what I've experienced so far, I prefer soundtracks over anything on the radio."

Ted snorted. "You nerd."

"I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Only a nerd tries to justify their cheesier music choices. Just admit that you like this, I dunno, this symphonic emo Russian synth-EDM, and don't look back. I mean, I listen to show tunes."

"Show tunes?"

"Dude." By that point, Ted was grinning from ear to ear. "Broadway? Y'know, musicals. And big band stuff too, like Gershwin."

Several seconds of silence followed, then: "I regret asking."

"Alright, look. Lemme find some and I'll show you-"

"No, I believe you."

"I won't take long, I swear!"

"Ted..."

And this was how Ted dragged an AI into an hour's worth of Broadway sing-alongs, which the AI in question would later call 'torture', followed by Ted suddenly remembering his sandwich and bringing it into proceedings as well in the form of turning lyrics into nonsensical mumbling. This is also how it came to be that the camera did not get hooked up that evening. It didn't even occur to Ted to question why Adam seemed relieved when he gave up on it for the night, because he was having too much fun.

#no one cares andy #original writing #original characters #robot and marshmallow #this thing's grown a plot on me and i didn't expect that #written up to part 7 so far but idk what's gonna happen next

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