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noladyme · 4 years

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Chess. Chapter 11

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: Language, sexual themes, injuries. Rated M

(This story is obviously non-canon, i.e. Diablo and GQ, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.)

We awoke from a loud banging on the door.

“Get up and get dressed, bitch. You got work to do!”, a gruff voice said. “Where the hell is her guard?”.

Rick flew up and put on his pants and shirt, faster than I’d ever seen anyone do. “Disappear!”, he whispered at me; and I went out of sight.

Opening the door, Rick stared down the guard outside. “What the hell are you doing here, asshole? You’re supposed to be watching the pastel psycho!”, he growled; making me bite my hand to avoid laughing at this new nickname for Harley.

“Sorry, sir. Right away, sir”, the guard answered, and ran off down the hall.

Rick closed the door again, and I reappeared, sputtering with laughter.

“Pastel psycho? Oh, she’s gonna love that!”, I chuckled. “Please don’t tell her I said that”, he said, and grabbed for his boots and jacket; before realizing I was standing naked in front of him.

He walked up to me, wrapped me in his arms, and kissed me deeply, making my knees go weak. “It might be a minute before I get to do this again”, he breathed, and latched on to my lips once more.

The room was still chilly, though we had fogged up the window quite a bit the night before. I was shivering from the cold, and Rick helped me gather my clothes.

Finally dressed, we shared one last kiss, before leaving the room to join the others; Rick once again holding on tightly to my arm.

Walking into the room with the cages, we were met by Waller, Edwards and the Tweedles; and the squad. They were standing over a folding table, looking at a map.

“How considerate of you to join us, Chess”, Waller said coldly, before looking to Rick. I pulled at my arm, to make it seem like he was holding on to hard. “Did she try to run?”, she asked him.

“I got her”, he answered, and pushed me towards the table.

“Yeah you do”, Harley smirked at us, before Floyd bumped her with his shoulder, mouthing a shut up, and grinning in my direction.

“We’ve narrowed down the location of our target to this area, most likely this building”, Waller said pointing at the map.

“The target being?”, Harley asked with a half-smile. Waller looked at her indignantly. “That’s not important for you to know”, she answered. “All you need to know is that the leader of the group is a bad guy, and it’s your job to take him down”. Harley narrowed her eyes at the woman, before smiling again. “Anything you say, boss”.

Waller continued. “The building we believe they are occupying is close to Gotham U; making that the most probable target of their attack. You need to take them out before they make their move”. She put a small shoulder-bag on the middle of the table. “This is how you’ll do it”.

Rick opened the bag, and pulled out a square black box, with a number display on top of it. He carefully put it on the table, and took a step back; making everyone but Waller follow his lead.

“Waller, this is crazy”, he gasped. “You wanna blow this guy up?”.

“I won’t be blowing anyone up”, she answered, and looked at me. “Chess will”.

A murmur rose in the room, as I froze in place. “I don’t know the first thing about bombs!”, I squeaked.

“This one is quite simple”, Waller answered with a smile. “You press that red button, hold it in for three seconds, and let go. The timer is pre-set to 1 minute. After that, the bomb will go of. It’s quite forceful, so you should try to hurry out of the way”.

Rick moved towards her menacingly. “Waller, this is out the question. She can’t do this!”. “Why not? She’s been perfectly able to run away from explosives before”, she answered. “Her ankle”, he tried. “Seems to have healed up well enough”, Waller said, looking towards my leg, and my unbandaged ankle. “She’s even got a new pair of nice leggings to go with it”.

I’d discovered a new pair of leggings – identical to my own cut op ones – in my trunk, before we left Belle Reve.

“This is happening, colonel, and you need to get with the plan”, she said, staring him down. “Don’t forget, I have the same access to those nano-bombs as you do”, she finished, and looked in my direction. Ricks pained eyes met mine. I nodded slightly, and walked up to the table.

I picked up the small box. It was heavier than it looked; or maybe that was just because I was aware of the damage it could do. “This button right here?”, I asked, pointing at the little red nubbin under the display. “That’s it”, Waller answered. “And then I have 1 minute to haul ass out of the building”.

“You seem to know exactly what to do”, she smirked at me, and turned to the rest of the group.

“Now the rest of you. Your job is to get Chess as close to the building as you can”, she said. “Do not go in to the building with her”. “Why?”, Floyd asked; loading his sniper rifle before the job at hand. “We believe they have cctv rigged up, and Chess needs to get as close to the target as she can. She can’t do that with you all holding on to her”.

Harley was fidgeting with her baseball bat. “In and out, huh?”, she asked. “Let’s do it”.

I placed the box in the shoulder-bag, and put it on; now carrying certain death at my hip.

“Yeah”, I said. “Let’s do it”.

“See you on the other side”, Waller said, and left the room, flanked by Edwards and the twins.

Taking the elevator down to the ground floor, everyone was quiet. The bag was heavy on my shoulder, and I concentrated on breathing without freaking out. I felt Ricks fingers lace into mine.

“You good?”, he asked. “Absolutely not”, I answered, smiling. “We all have your back”, he said, backed up by a grunt from Croc. “We ain’t letting nothing happen to you”, Floyd said.

“Oh, lighten up you bastards”, Digger exclaimed, slapping Ricks shoulder hard. “You’re all acting like she’s walking into her death”. “She’s carrying a live bomb”, Diablo said. “Right, I forgot about that one”, Digger grumbled.

---

We were driven in a van to an alley about 3 blocks away from the targeted building.

“From here, we need to go in invisible”, Rick said. He pressed the button on his arm, the small light turning green.

“I need you all to hold on to me”, I explained.

Digger stepped up to me, took a firm hold of my left breast, and smiled at me; gold tooth shining brightly. Rick visibly tensed up. I raised my eyebrows at the aussie.

“You need to be touching a part of my skin”, I reiterated. “Well take your bloody top of then!”, he said exasperatedly.

Diablo smacked the back of his head, and Digger let go. “Well, you’re no fun at all”, he mumbled.

Ricks body relaxed, but he took a firm hold of his machine gun; obviously wanting nothing more than to blow Diggers head of.

“Where?”, Diablo asked, and looked at me seriously, ignoring the death-stare Digger was sending his way. I rolled up the sleeves of my jacket, baring my arms.

“One on each arm I guess”. Shrugging the jacket down my shoulders a bit, leaving them bare due to my loose top, I continued. “One on each shoulder”.

“That still leaves three of us”, Floyd said.

“What if I carried you?”, Croc asked. “It might work. Some of us could hold on to your legs, and we’d be more mobile”, Rick backed him up. “You also wouldn’t be spending your energy walking. We might get further”. I sighed. “Fine”, I said. I rolled up my leggings, and Croc bent to let me jump onto his back. “Piggybacking a crocodile is not how I saw my day going”, I grumbled. Croc chuckled quietly as I grabbed on to him; and I put my cheek to his neck, so we were skin to scales.

Harley took a hold of my left shoulder, and Floyd took my right; after being reminded to take of his glove. Rick placed a hand under my top, on my bare back. Digger, being exiled to my left leg, slid his fingers around my calf. Before he could get too frisky, Diablo moved up behind him, grabbing a hold of the same leg, his hand close to Diggers, to keep it in place.

This only left Katana. She said a few words in Japanese. “Katana, we need to move out. Now”, Rick said pointedly. She answered him, going of in a rant, before I interrupted her with an irritated voice. “Just touch my goddamn leg!”. She shut up, stifled a smile, and took a hold of my right leg.

“Let’s do this”, Rick said, and stroked my back with his thumb in encouragement. “Croc, you set the pace”.

I smiled, and concentrated fiercely on letting my mirage surround us all.

I could hear members of the group gasp, as they saw their limbs disappear into a fog.

“This is some brujería”, Diablo whispered. “Says the pyrokinetic homeboy”, Floyd answered.

We began moving, as I held on for dear life to Croc. The air smelled like rain was coming, and the thought of that made me nervous, as our invisibility wouldn’t help us much, if a sudden shower decided to give away the shape of our bodies moving through it.

“Whoever is groping my ass; move it or lose it”, Floyd said. “Sorry man, I thought you was Harley”, Crocs voice chuckled. “Aw, that’s so sweet”, Harley giggled.

“Quiet!”, I gasped, my body purring fiercely. I could feel my energy being drained at a swift rate.

Croc was moving us forward quickly, getting us closer to our final destination.

We heard a scream from further down the street, and saw three masked men chasing after a man in a suit. “Boomer and Katana!”, Rick hissed. “Right, boss”, Digger answered, and let go of me. It took him a second to move, as he watched himself reappear. He shook his body, and ran off, getting behind a cluster of parked cars. Katana followed his move, recovering much faster.

Pausing for a second behind a parked bus, Harley stepped away, and smacked a sleazy looking guy across the head with her bat. She grabbed my shoulder again, and I made her disappear. We kept moving.

“Deadshot; the roofs”, Rick whispered, and Floyd let go. He climbed up a fire escape, towards the roofs.

Rumbling could be heard from the sky; a single raindrop landing on my cheek. I shuddered from the coldness of the air. “I need a break” I gasped.

Croc moved us towards a doorway, and we hid just inside the door. I was shivering.

“She’s drained”, Rick said, and put his jacket around me. I slid down on the floor. “Diablo?”, he said; and the tattooed man crouched in front of me. He lit his hand aflame, and I cupped my own around it, relishing in the warmth.

“This isn’t a good place to be taking a break”, Croc said, looking outside. “She can’t go on yet, not having to cover all of us”, Rick said angrily.

A loud thump on the ground was heard from outside. Digger came running through the door. “Floyd just took out some poor bugger on the roof, and we got company coming!”, he panted, and looked at me. “What’s with the kitty?”. “She’s spent, man”, Diablo said, looking at him, and then at Rick. “Flag, I can keep burnin’ this flame, but it ain’t gonna give her back the energy she’s lost”.

“I need sugar”, I said, voice weak. Rick grabbed a protein bar from his pocket. “Best I can do right now”, he said apologetically. I ate the bar, while scowling at him. “Boy scout”, I muttered, and tried to stand back up. “Shut up”, he said, and put my arm around his neck, so he could support my weight. “You good?”, he asked, voice soft. “Getting there”, I answered with a half-smile. Forgetting himself, he gave me a quick kiss on the forehead.

“Aaawwww!”, Harley said, finishing with a little squeak.

“Shit”, Rick muttered.

Katana roared something from outside the door; and Rick instantly looked worried. “Croc, go help her”, he said. “Diablo and Quinn; stay with Chess. Try to find her something to eat, anything to keep her energy up. Digger, on me”. “Aye, aye”, Digger said, and went to follow him.

“Croc”, I called just before he went out the door. “Smoke?”. He smiled and threw me his pack of cigarettes. “Goddammit”, Rick said, and ran out the door, the two others following close behind.

Diablo lit my cigarette for me, as Harley went through her purse. “Here”, she said; and handed me a small bag of pop rocks. “They’re the bubblegum kind”, she beamed.

Two puffs of the cigarette, and I was done. “Smoke’s not good for the lungs, mami”, Diablo smirked. “Shut up”, I coughed, and laughed back at him.

I poured the candy into my mouth, feeling the tiny explosions on my tongue. “So, he’s got a good pole that goes with that name?”, Harley jeered, and grinned at me. I instantly flushed red, and looked at the floor. “It’s not half bad”, I smirked. She squealed excitedly, and grabbed me in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you. Even if he is a stick in the mud”.

The door opened, and Rick looked at us, confused for a second. “What are you…”, he said, and then shook his head. “Never mind. We cleared the street up to the block the building is on. You ready to move out?”. “Do I need to smile?”, I asked. “No, we should be good for about half a mile”. “Then lets go”, I said, and moved for the door with him.

“Hey”, Harley called from behind us. “What”, Rick said, and looked at her. “You break her heart, I break your neck”, she said, face serious.

He held her gaze. “Yes, ma’am”, he answered, took my hand, and we moved down the street.

---

They hadn’t been kidding. The street was cleared alright. Not a bad guy in sight. I saw Croc carrying two bodies over his shoulders, throwing them into a dumpster, before joining the rest of us. Floyd appeared from somewhere. “Roofs are clean”, he said, and moved to the front of the group.

We moved forwards silently, Rick only letting go of my hand, once we reached the street-corner of our destination. The building was tall, and looked abandoned.

“This is it”, Rick said. “This is as close as we can get you”. He grabbed my hand again. “It’s gonna be ok”, I smiled at him. “I’ll be back here to enjoy the fireworks with you in no time”.

He put his hands on either side of my face, and kissed me. His tongue found mine, and we were lost in the moment, my hand in his hair, his on my back, pulling me impossibly closer.

Someone cleared their throat. We pulled away from each other, and saw the squad were all stood smirking at us. “When did this happen?”, Digger asked, followed by another smack to the head by Diablo.

I stepped back, took of Ricks jacket and handed it back to him. “One hour”, he said. “Then we move in to pull you out”. I nodded, and went to cross the street.

I hear footsteps behind me, and Harley grabbed my arm. “Take me with you!”, she said, face serious. “Waller said…”, I began. “Screw Waller! Trust me”, she said. Her expression was for once completely sane. I didn’t know why, but something was telling me to go with her request.

I looked towards Rick, who was shaking his head.

“Y/N!”, Harley insisted. “You’re gonna want me with you!”.

I sighed, looked deep into her pleading eyes, and nodded. She smiled broadly at me, put her hand on my exposed lower arm; and I smiled.

We ran across the street to the building, having difficulty being quiet, due to Harleys stilettos clicking against the concrete. There seemed to be only one entrance; a large wooden door, that turned out to be unlocked. We went inside and let the door close behind us.

Inside was a large staircase. We snuck up it, though we could see no enemies around.

Once on the first floor, Harley let go of my arm.

“Harley!”, I hissed, to get her to stay put. She ignored me, shed her coat, and threw it over a broken chair in the corner.

“Honey! I’m home!”, she called brightly.

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r

@hyp-oh-critical

#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag fic #rick flag imagine #suicide squad fic #suicide squad imagine #harley quinn #captain boomerang

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firefrightfic · 3 years

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Hey if you don't mind I have a life question to ask. So I just started working and it's my first job ever and I can't believe how both physically and mentally draining it is😩 To be honest being in this fandom and consuming it daily either via comics, tumblr, fanart, discord, or ao3 has been how I spent most of my time for years now, as it makes me truly happy, and maybe that's embarrassing. 1/2

I do feel ashamed for it, but reading about two male fictional characters falling in love in 10000 different ways is my biggest source of dopamine in life right now and I can't describe the sort of feelings I get when I read a good fanfic that will make my heart swell. A few thing can measure up, lol. 2/? Which brings me to know, where as a newly employed adult person, after a full day if work I literally have zero time or energy for doing all these wonderful things, and I've barely had time to skim through everything but I crave browsing tumblr and keeping up with new fanart, or reading new fics and comics and all, but I have so little time before I'm dead to the world 😩 3/4 Honestly this feels like a withdrawal,I feel empty and sad as I'm falling behind and I also miss my otp while new fics keep piling up but my time is non the more free. Have you perhaps ever felt like this?How do you balance between work and catching up with the fandom all the time(and managing to write even)? If you have any advice to share or if any of your followers who will see this can confirm ever feeling like this, I'd be glad to know that I'm not as pathetic as I know I am lol.Thanks!4/4

First of all, I want to say you are in no way pathetic, and your love for fandom and your favourite pairings is nothing you should feel ashamed or embarrassed about. What’s important to you is important to you. It’s not like we flip a switch when we grow up and get jobs that causes us to lose interest in fandom and only have interest in ‘responsible adult things’ from thereon out. I say this as a 33 (almost 34) year old person who has been chugging along in fandom spaces since my early teens. There are a lot of folks out there who will try to tell you fandom is a waste of time or childish as you get older, but you should never listen to those people. So long as it continues to give you comfort and joy in your life, embrace it.

Secondly, this ask hit hard in a lot of ways, because lately I feel like I too have been struggling to keep up with things. The past year has been rough for me (for all of us), and as someone who works retail, the last couple months especially have been incredibly busy and exhausting to the point that I also have a massive backlog of fics to read, things to watch, and most distressingly for me, have found it very difficult to sit down and write the way I used to. I don’t think I’ve really written anything of significance since the early part of November, when I was attempting NaNo. Not to complain about that to you or anyone else, just suffice to say I totally know how you feel and have been in the same position many times before.

Part of it may be that you’re still adjusting to working, and eventually you will start getting used to the daily grind and find you have more energy left over at the end of the day. This is not a guarantee, though, especially since I don’t know which field your new job is in. Some positions are more mentally draining, while others take a more physical toll (and some jobs do both). I think, honestly, the hardest part is to recognise that your fandom experience cannot be the same as it once was and while that sucks, it also doesn’t mean it has to end.

My advice moving forward is three-fold. First of all, make the most of your days off. This isn’t always easy, given days off work also tend to come with family responsibilities and chores -- those other pesky real life needs that you can’t accomplish whilst working, but whenever you can, indulge in what you love. Your brain and soul will thank you for it.

Secondly, prioritise. You may not be able to keep up with absolute everything anymore, so think of what matters most to you in your fandom experience. The characters, the pairings, the comics... I’d love to read almost every comic DC puts out for example, but I just don’t have the energy to invest in every single storyline or character journey out there. I also write more than I read fic these days, but that’s me as a fic writer. I only follow a few authors and rarely go actually looking for fics in the tags. Plus, you can also generally keep up with canon news through fandom orientated websites (or if you’re in discord servers, trust friends there to update you on any important developments).

Thirdly, and most importantly, remember fandom isn’t an obligation. Don’t let it start to feel like work as well, or that you’re failing if you can’t keep up with everything you once did. Growing up is hard, as is having to work, but fandom should remain a safe space for you. One that rejuvenates, rather than adds to the exhaustion of the daily grind (and if that ever changes, difficult as it is, it’s okay to let things go).

I hope this helps. And that hopefully soon life eases up for the both of us, as well as anyone else out there that’s struggling right now ♥

#asks #rl woes #also to those waiting on answers on other asks #yeah #this is also why I'm taking some time #I promise I'll get to them eventually though #look after yourselves out there everybody #Anonymous #adulting #fandom

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wln559wln559 · 3 years

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singing to the evening stars

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

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Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth

Warnings: noncon sex (oral, m&f, intercourse)

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is a fic writer and her number one fan can’t get enough.

Note: This is probably the most meta shit I’ve written but for all the fic writers out there, this one if for you. Hope y’all get the good d you deserve but until then, here’s this!

Please let me know what you think in a reblog/reply! <3 please and thank you.

You let out a sigh of relief and hit ‘post’. It was almost pathetic but it was the best part of your day, or most days. Having something to share with others was nice. The fact that they enjoyed your work and your boredom-induced work made it worth the frustration.

It wasn’t real writing. You knew that. Fanfiction was a genre to be laughed at. You didn’t admit it to anyone but there was a sense of pride to go along with the shame.

That part of you was kept online. The darker parts; the lust, the angst, the fear. It all went hand in hand and no one would guess that the bookshop assistant was stevies-doll. It felt almost scandalous to have a virtual alter ego.

You closed your laptop and checked the time. More than enough to get ready for work. Plain blouse, grey pants, mary jane flats. You were the typical bookish girl with dreams that would never come true.

The bus was late. Oh well. You’d still be there in time you’d just have to forego your usual espresso. Afternoons were draining and you often needed the boost to keep from nodding off in the last hour. You really weren’t sure why the shop stayed open so late; not many came out after five for books but traffic was relatively steady in the hipster village.

Nina met you with a frown. She preferred you at least ten minutes earlier. Tardiness had seen several other clerks fired and you had been the only to make it more than a year in the shop. Three in fact. This place was like a second home. A garden of ideas to plant the seeds of your mind.

When Nina left, you rearranged the desk. You moved aside her ledger and replaced it with your notebook, two pens to the right of it. In between the chime of the door and the rare customer queries you did most of your writing. When you reached a block you’d read, but today you felt particularly inspired.

The world was saved again. The news reports had shown footage of the daring rescue. As grim as the situation was, you couldn’t help but fantasize. The first avenger with his golden hair and sharp jawline was every woman’s Adonis. At least, you thought he was the very picture of perfection.

It wasn’t obsession. That was your mantra. You often argued with yourself. As much as you thought of the great Steve Rogers, it was only admiration. It wasn’t the possessive infatuation often found on social media. It was a hobby. An escape from the world.

You bent over the notebook. The shop was empty. The dulcet tones of indie folk floated along the shelves. You set pen to paper and waited for the ring to draw you away from the world behind your eyes.

You leaned on the counter and scribbled the first line in ink. That was always the hardest part. Then again, the beginning was always more exciting than the end.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

It was amusing at first. The thought of another person spending so much time writing about him. That someone would fabricate an entire universe in which he was entirely different. Somewhere out there was a woman who wore the pseudonym ‘stevies-doll’.

Steve knew he should have been perturbed by the fact. The idea of another so consumed by him that they would post almost every other day about him. He couldn’t remember how he stumbled on the small blog. A decent following but nothing close to viral.

The first story he read was cute. It even made him feel warm. The second was very much the same. He clicked through to another, this one more serious. Grey and daunting. A few more and he stumbled upon one he found most interesting, the letters NSFW emblazoned across the top. He googled the acronym and clicked back to the tab. Excited almost.

When he finished, he was warm in another way. Hot, almost. The things he read, the idea of him doing them, was almost arousing. Of course, he had never done any of it. Had never been more than the perfect gentlemen. Sweet and doting. That was how love should be. But that wasn’t love, no, that story was sex. Pure, unadulterated fucking.

He forced himself away from the computer after that. He needed to sleep. He had intended to browse his email quickly but he often found himself in the oddest rabbit-holes. That was definitely the deepest. He shook his head and chuckled. It was funny.

The next morning he awoke and went about his usual routine. He was out the door by seven. Off to save the world. Or wait around for it to need saving. At Stark Tower, he listened to Tony with his eyes on his phone. It wasn’t anything important. Some recounting about how he had scared Pepper with a nano-spider.

Steve gave a half-hearted chuckle and Tony went back to his screen. “Tough audience,” He muttered to Bruce who merely shook his head.

Steve leaned against a stool and squinted at his phone. He stared at the google search. Why had he typed it in? Somewhere in the tedium of Tony’s chatter, he had keyed in the name. He hit the first link and his phone loaded slowly.

His own face stared back at him. The banner was a press photo he had taken over a year ago. His bright eyes were staunch beneath the mask as he stared off into the distance. She had posted again. His thumb hovered over ‘read more’. Did he dare?

He looked up to make sure he was not being observed. The two scientists were too distracted to care about his online activity. He stood straight and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna hit the gym,” He lied. A grumble from both scientists as they squinted at the floating screens. “Right, have fun.” Steve said dryly as he left them to their work.

He stepped out in the hall and pressed his thumb to the screen. He bent his head over the phone as he walked blindly down the halls. Neither Tony or Bruce noticed through the window that he had gone entirely the wrong way. Steve didn’t either as his eyes flitted over the screen.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

You couldn’t believe how much your blog had grown in the last few months. You didn’t know if it betrayed your unexciting life or your one-track mind. Both, maybe. But it made your everyday responsibilities a little less tedious.

And the messages were even better than the hit count. Several had messaged to say they loved your work and went so far as to call you an inspiration. It was flattering but it was easy to remember who you were. No Stephen King or JK Rowling. You wrote silly one shots with limited development.

Today your inbox had been steady. Every time you found yourself bored at work, you opened the app and you had another message. Most of them short or even just emojis but nice nonetheless. And there was one you were waiting to answer

So long and in depth you had to give it more than just a thanks. You opened it several times and reread it.

‘Your story is really interesting. I think the way your portray Steve is believable. In this type of writing you rarely find anything realistic but your writing feels genuine if not entirely accurate. I would say you capture the essence of Steve perfectly and his actions at least make sense.

I always enjoy your updates and even look forward to them...especially the NSFW ones. ;)’

It was one of the few users who didn't use the anonymous feature and also left a complete comment. It was refreshing and you had come to look forward to their commentary. They went by CapUSA. Another Steve fangirl who was surprisingly inactive outside your blog. Her page was almost a clone of your own. They liked every post, reblogged, and commented. What more could a writer ask for?

Original characters maybe and not just fantasies of someone who’d never know of her existence. You closed your laptop and sighed. It felt like time. You could feel the block at the back of your head. The little thrill you got was wearing off and it felt like a phase better left to fade with your emo days in high school and that month in university when you dyed your hair purple.

You readied for work. Back on days that week. Opening was always easier. It didn’t feel so drawn out. Nina would be in at one and you’d keep her company until four. It meant little time for writing. Maybe that was for the better. You needed to start planning. For the future. For something truly your own. A fantasy so detached from reality that it would make market and maybe even a dime.

That was your dream. You didn’t want to be the listless fangirl forever. Ugh, how you hated to even call yourself a fangirl. No post today, you resigned. Maybe none tomorrow. You’d have to work up the courage to announce your hiatus. Life was calling and for once a sliver of genuine inspiration.

And the bookstore. It was Shakespeare’s birthday, which conveniently was also his death day. This meant two for one on all of his works. Nina also hired actors to stand outside the shop and re-enact famous scene from the playwright’s repertoire. They wouldn’t arrive till noon but you had a lot of set-up to do. Enough to keep you from thinking of the disappointed messages that would fill your inbox.

Steve scrolled through the pale pink blog for the dozenth time that morning. It had been two weeks since stevies-doll posted. The longest two weeks of his life. He wasn’t sure when it had become a staple in his life. A ritual almost. He’d read her latest fic as he laid down and try to clear his head of blood and grime. Lose himself in the person she dreamed he was. The man he had come to envy. Fictional but all too real in his head.

But there was nothing. At first he re-read and read again. But that grew old. He knew almost every story by heart at this point. He could recite the intro line to most and he fell asleep as his imagination reconstructed the things he had never done.

Her banner flashed across his sight when he woke, the image of his blue eyes staring beyond him. He’d come to think of her Steve as an altar ego. The beast buried deep inside of him. He was tired of being the nation’s golden child. Their unwavering moral beacon. He wanted to be him and she had helped him figure out who he truly was.

But she was gone. No green dot above her name in the chat window, her last post dated fourteen days ago, her blog like a time capsule. The ice that had preserved him for seventy years. Where was she?

Then a thought struck him. A devious one. He had been on enough missions to know his way around a computer. He considered himself quite savvy after living nearly a decade ahead of his time. It was simple enough. He tracked down many a drug pin this way and they were often concealed behind walls of encryption. He doubted she had more than a store-bought antivirus, if that.

He climbed out of bed and booted his computer. His leg shook impatiently and he tossed his phone just beneath the corner of the monitor. He rubbed his palms together as the home screen loaded and he clicked on the browser.

Her IP was simple enough to find. Right-click, inspect. When he found it, he felt his heart jump. This was a line. A very clear one. If he did this, there was no going back. He let go of the mouse and leaned his chin in his hands. He stared at her page, split by the window of code, and his jaw ticked.

He hit back and went to the messenger. He clicked on her name and his fingertips ran over the space bar. He didn’t know what to say. He’d send her little asks about her fics but he never messaged her directly. Would she respond?

‘Hey,’ He typed slowly, his fingers sped up with each key, ‘I’m a fan of your work. I think it’s excellent. I just wanted to check in and see if you were still writing for this blog.’

He hit enter and waited. He focused on the grey dot beside her name. If she saw this, it likely wouldn’t be until morning. He checked the time and sighed. It was late. He had an early briefing with Tony and he should try to sleep.

He hovered the cursor over the x but the dot turned green and he paused. The little ‘...’ blipped in the bottom of the chat box and the ding of her reply was music to his ears.

‘Hey, sorry. I know I’ve been quiet lately. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’m a bit behind at the moment. Thank you though for following me. I always enjoy your comments :)’ He read it several times before he could reply. Before he could even think of the words to.

‘It’s okay. We all have responsibilities. Take your time.’ He wanted to tell her to hurry up but who knew? She might be someone important, like a lawyer or teacher. He could wait. As long as there was hope.

‘Thanks. I appreciate that. Really.’ That response was quicker. Curt, almost.

‘I don’t want to overstep but are you okay?’ His cheeks were hot.

‘Ah, you know, life.’

He scratched his chin as he leaned back in his chair. Slowly he sat forward and typed. It took him three tries to get it right. Concerned but not pushy. ‘Anything you wanna talk about?’ He waited. The three dots appeared then faded. Several times before her answer blipped up.

‘I don’t wanna trouble you but I appreciate you asking. Nothing I won’t get over.’

‘Ok, no problem. Just know that if you need it, I could listen. It’s could to talk about stress.’ He laughed at himself. He should take his own advice. He had a horrible habit of letting things pile up until he burst at the seams.

‘Thanks again. I’ll ttyl. I gotta get some sleep. Have a good one.’

‘You, too,’ He replied a bit too quickly. ‘Talk to you then.’

You were ready to post again. It had been almost a month since your last fic and you had been reluctant to return. You couldn’t help checking in daily to see your notifications and scroll mindlessly through your own content. And your offline writing had come to a halt. You were stuck and you didn’t know how else to cope but fall back on what you knew.

Your new friend had helped too. CapUSA had quickly become a stalwart of your blog. She, or he, you still weren’t sure, spoke to you almost everyday. They encouraged you to try one more fic as you mulled over a certain prompt. Why not? It would be like a writing exercise. Maybe it would help you with your original writing. Take some of the pressure off.

And you didn’t just talk about writing. You talked about the bookstore and Nina’s incessant complaints. You talked about the stresses of your lives. Friends, or lack thereof. Cap seemed a popular person and recounted stories of the latest drama. A close knit group of friends who acted more like adversaries. It was amusing and made your forget that your life was rather empty.

You hit post and smiled. That familiar rush rolled over you and you snapped closed your laptop. You were already dressed and ready for work. You crammed in the quick editing session before the bus was due and now you’d have to run for it.

Back on afternoons. It was rainy and you were soaked by the time you got to the shop. The weather always helped traffic and you ducked behind the counter where Nina was tending to the line with Cara, a new addition. The curly-haired blonde reminded you of old Hollywood. Her high cheekbones and rose lips rivaled Monroe’s.

“Do you want me to start early?” You asked as you tucked your bag under the counter between them.

“You better. I’m gone in ten and Cara’s only on til three.” Nina muttered. “We got a new shipment. Boxes are at the end of the aisles. We’ve not had a chance to touch ‘em.”

“Okay, I’ll get right on it,” You pin your name tag on and stepped back around the counter. She was in one of her moods and all the better that you avoid her until she left. You went to the end of the history aisle and opened the box against the wall.

‘You working?’ The vibration drew your attention from re-arranging the non-fiction section. The message floated in a bubble on your lock screen. You smiled. This faceless stranger felt like more. Of course, virtual friendships were often fleeting.

You glanced down the aisle, both Nina and Cara were squinting at the computer as a customer waited patiently for them to figure out their conundrum. You swiped away the lock and typed swiftly with your phone hidden behind your leg.

‘Closing. Here all night.’

‘Oh :( you got company at least?’

‘For a couple more hours. But no shortage of work. :/’

‘Damn. Should I leave you alone?’

‘Up to you. My responses might be sporadic. Boss isn’t very pleasant today.’

‘Cool. I just read your new fic.’

‘Yeah? Sorry I haven’t checked my notifications just yet.’

‘No problem. I left a comment is all.’

‘What are you up to?’

‘Taking a break from driving. I should actually get back to it. It’s a long trip.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To see a friend.’

‘Ah, ok. Well, drive safe.’

‘I will ;) See ya later.’

‘ttyl :)’

‘Nina’s Nook’. Steve read the crooked moniker several times over. He couldn’t believe he was actually there. That she was inside. He made good time on the road. An eight hour trip in six. Of course, he hadn’t exactly abided the speed limit. His impatience had turned to recklessness. So unlike him.

The sky was dim. The summer nights came later and later. She’d be done in an hour. The streets were dying down and the door hadn’t chimed in almost as long. He felt nervous all of a sudden. He tried to shrug of his anxiety and took a breath.

She wouldn’t know it was him. Well, she might recognize him but she wouldn’t know he was CapUSA. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Steve Rogers in her bookshop. In this town. It would be a story she would recount for the rest of her life. An encounter she would never forget.

Oh, he’d make sure she remembered it.

He crossed the street. A single car passed as he stepped up on the curb. It was much quieter than New York. No honking, no shouts, no hissing sewers. He liked it. It was quaint. He stood before the door and peeked through the glass. There was no one behind the desk. But the sign read open and the lights shone in welcome.

He pushed down the handle and slowly opened the door. The bell announced his entrance and a small voice called from the corner of the shop. “One moment, please.” He heard the shuffle of books and light footsteps. She emerged from the far shelves and his lips parted at the sight of her.

He had seen her before. Her few photos on Facebook and Instagram. He had found those shortly after he ferreted out her IP. He couldn’t see much but her privacy settings allowed him a glimpse into her real life. Her smile was nicer than in her pictures.

“Sorry, I was--” She stopped short as she saw him. She blinked. He closed his mouth as hers fell open. Her voice was higher when she spoke next. “I was just sorting some stuff out. I--How can I help you?”

“Um, a friend recommended a book to me and I was passing by, I thought maybe by chance… you might have it.” He kept his voice even. The same one he used for his press conferences.

“Do you have a title?” She asked. He could see her fingers tremble. The guilt as her eyes rounded. She was thinking of all the things she had wrote about him. He was thinking of those too.

“Jeez, you know, I’ve totally forgotten but the author was, uh…” He pretended to think and his eyes drifted down her body. Her flowered blouse was boxy but her pants hugged the curves of her hips and legs. She clasped her hands together and the gesture pushed her chest together between her arms. “Margaret Archer--er, Atwood.”

“Hmm, she’s done a lot. Do you know what it’s about?” She pulled her hands apart and wiped her palms on her dark pants. His eyes followed the movement. He wanted his hands there. Wanted to feel her thighs against him.

“Something about an apocalypse...um, a character named...Snow--Snow something.” He acted like he coudn’t remember. Couldn’t recall that it was stevies-doll who had recommended the very book.

“Oh, Oryx and Crake, I think it is. It’s an interesting one.” She smiled, proud to have figured out the riddle. “If you will, it should be with our most popular books.”

She hesitated as she passed him. He followed her as she went to the shelf just beside the counter. She hovered her finger before the titles as she read them. She bent as she got lower. He admired her ass as she did. He tucked his hands in his pocket before he could reach out.

“Yeah, I think it’s in sci-fi.” She stood and peeked over her shoulder. “It’s just over here.” She led him down the narrow aisle to the end. “Starts just here so Atwood…” She scanned the shelf, “Here.” She pulled out the book and held it out to him. “We have it in hardcover too.”

He took it and felt the raised letters on the cover. “Thanks.” He didn’t even acknowledge the book in his hand. The aisle was so tight she was trapped between him and the wall. She gave a sheepish smile and he turned to press his back to the shelf. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

She nodded and squeezed past him. Her chest brushed against his torso and she pretended not to notice. Once past him, she cleared her throat. “If you need any help, I’ll be up front.” She turned before he could respond and her watched her go. He never would’ve guessed the mousy shop assistant would have such a lurid imagination.

You were in disbelief. It couldn’t be. Steve Rogers in your book shop? No, you were dreaming. Or was it a nightmare? Oh god, why had you written all that stuff? You needed to delete. Now. You could hear him. The floor creaked as he moved slowly down the aisle. You hoped he would’ve taken the book and gone. The longer he stayed, the worse you felt. Your cheeks were on fire.

Your phone vibrated. You swiped the screen and found a new message from CapUSA. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. You should just pretend you didn’t see it. You unlocked the phone and read the message.

‘Hey, how’s work?’

‘It’s fine.’ You answered. What could you say? Who would believe that Steve Rogers had walked in your door?

‘I just was thinking about your last fic.’

‘Oh yeah?’ You peeked over at the far aisle. The floor no longer whined with his weight.

‘Yeah, I’d love to re-enact the last scene.’

‘Sorry?’ You sent the message and it went unanswered. ‘I don’t get it. What do you mean?’

‘The one with the girl on her knees. Begging to be fucked.’

‘Okay? I still don’t understand.’ Your heart jumped. This was really weird.

‘Or maybe and I could fuck you on that counter you’re standing behind.’

You hit close and locked the phone. You dropped it and looked around the shop. You rushed out from behind the counter and glanced out the window. You turned the latch and the floorboards groaned. You turned and pressed yourself to the door. You forgot he was there.

How could you forget something like that?

“Sorry, uh, we’re closing up,” You felt around for the lock, “I was just--”

“That’s okay. I think I’m just about done.” He slapped the book against his palm and placed it on the corner of the counter. He set his phone on top of it with a flourish. “Why don’t you flip the sign and we can get started.”

“What are you--”

“Do you prefer I call you by your real name or stevies-doll?” He leaned against the counter and smirked. “Or I can just call you doll. I know you like that.”

“No,” You exhaled shakily, “Y-you can’t be…”

“You’re not happy to see me?” He asked. He didn’t sound like the hero you saw on the news. Barely looked like him now. His pupils dilated to darken his blue eyes and the shadows of the shop cast his face in sinister tones. “You can call me Stevie if you like.”

“I...What I wrote, it was just...” You spluttered. “I’m s-sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “I’m not mad. Intrigued really.”

He stepped closer and your ears pounded as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. You turned and fumbled with the lock. The door opened an inch before his hand slammed it shut again. He easily flipped the lock back into place and spun the sign with a flick of his thumb.

“You can close early and we can have some fun...maybe inspire a new fic.” His arm was around your waist and you grabbed onto his thick wrist.

“They’re just stories.” You kicked as he pulled you away from the door. He tugged the blind down over the window. “Stupid fantasies.”

“Well, consider this a dream come true, doll,” He spun and let you go. You collided with the desk and gasped as the air was knocked from your lungs. “I think you remember this scene.”

“What do you want?” You clung to the desk as you turned to him.

“You know, I’m everything people think I am. Straight-laced, valiant, boring.” He planted his feet and stared you down. “Or was...until I found your blog.” His tongue ran across his bottom lip. “It gets lonely on the road. At first, your blog was like a secret companion. It gave me something to look forward to but then it made me think. So many things I never even knew I was missing out on.”

“Please, I don’t know what you want from me,” Your voice cracked. Your fear surged and left you shaking against the counter.

“I want…” He tilted his head and his eyes flashed, “You.” He paused and pushed his shoulders back. “On your knees.” Your eyes rounded, “Oh yes,” He raised a finger, “Naked.”

You stared at him. You were frozen in place. The counter your only support from melting into a puddle. His nostrils flared as he exhaled; long and drawn out.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He snarled and his hand balled into a fist.

You gulped and held yourself with one hand against the counter as you bent to unlace your oxfords. You kicked them off with your socks and mustered your strength. You stood on your own and unbuttoned your shirt. You kept your eyes on the aged carpet stretched across the hardwood.

You dropped the blouse onto your shoes and unzipped your fly. The wool trousers slid halfway down without help and you untangled your legs from them. You added them to the heap and stood straight.

“Look at me,” Steve ordered. Your eyes snapped over to him. “Good.” You reached back and he raised a hand. “Stop...I wanna do it.”

He waved you forward and slowly you stepped away from the counter. He bared his palm in a gesture for you to halt and you hung your head. “Eyes up.” He corrected as he came closer. He walked around you and stopped just behind you.

His thick fingers touched the band of your bra and ran along it until they met at the hooks. He carefully unclasped it and the cups fell loose. He tickled your arms as he pushed the straps down them. He took it and flung it away from him. His hands came up to cup your tits and he pushed himself flush to your back.

“You always wrote so vividly of me but...I never knew how beautiful you truly were...how good you feel.” He squeezed and slowly lowered his hands. He dragged them to the side of your panties and slipped his fingers beneath the elastic. He bent as he guided the panties down your legs. “God, that ass.”

You shivered and his hands cradled your ass. He ran his rough palms along your cheeks and up your back. They settled on your shoulders and he pushed down firmly. “On your knees.”

He stepped back and you unsteadily got to your knees. He walked another circle around you. You could hear his dusky breaths. Glimpsed how his hand ran over the front of his jeans.

“Now ask, like a good girl,” He stopped before you and stared down with a smirk. “Go on, doll, I know you want it.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed. You grit your teeth and gather what was left of your wits. A story. That’s all this was. The letters could be backspaced and no one would know better of it.

“Please,” You recalled the last scene you had posted. The tingle which had flowed through you as you hit the button. What had she said? You opened your eyes. “Please, I want to...I want to make you happy.” You shuddered as the words whisked from you. “Can I?”

“Can you...what?” He taunted.

“Can I suck your dick?” It was barely a whisper.

“Oh, well, since you asked so nicely,” His hands were on his belt as he spoke. “But I have a different scene in mind for tonight. A new one.” He unbuckled his belt and cracked his neck. “I want you on the counter. On your back.”

You made to stand and his hand went to your head. He held you down.

“Crawl.”

You weakly dropped forward and turned. You crawled on hands and knees as he followed, stopping just in front of the desk as you followed his pointed finger to the other side. You stood and lifted yourself onto the counter and laid on your back. He guided your head over the side as he pulled you close and his hands found your tits again. He tweaked your hard nipples and you bit your lip.

He rescinded his hands and finished unzipping his pants. You tried not to watch as he pushed his pants down, his briefs too. The blur focused and you gaped at the size of him. He gripped himself and you snapped your mouth shut. He grabbed your chin and squeezed.

“Now, now, don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted,” He pressed his cock to your mouth and you were forced to open as his fingers threatened to crush your jaw.

He slid inside and your gasp was stifled as he met the back of your throat. He forced himself further and you threw your arms out. A clatter of books and papers as you swept them off the counter. He lingered at his limit and wiggled his hips. You arched your back as you choked and he grabbed your tit, kneading it as he slowly pulled out.

He pushed back in just as you gulped down air and you writhed atop the desk. He thrust in and out of your mouth. You gagged and groaned. The noises only fueled his fervour and he sunk in over and over until your head pulsed. The spit smeared around your lips and his balls.

He pulled back and slammed back in suddenly. His motion slowed as he came. He grunted, his breaths stuttered by the staggered rock of his pelvis. You clawed at the counter top and kicked until you could breathe again.

He slipped his cock from between your lips and his cum leaked from your mouth. You sat up and coughed. His hands were on your shoulders again. His fingers danced along your throat as if to ease your struggles.

“Come on, that’s just the first act,” He drew away and you glanced over your shoulder. “Turn around.”

You turned on the desk and he pulled your legs over the edge. He pushed your knees apart and stepped back to admire the view. You dug your nails into the lip of the counter to keep yourself from closing your legs.

“I know you’ve been dying to see this,” He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head.

His cock hung out of his pants. It twitched as he tossed his shirt at you. You caught it. It smelled like him. He shoved his pants down without pause and he hardened again. You dropped his shirt and looked away guiltily.

Had you not written this scene a dozen times over?

He was completely naked when you looked again. He came close, his hands on your knees as he knelt before you. You tried to pull your legs together but he held them apart. He shook his head and tutted.

“Just sit back and enjoy,” He licked his lips. “Trust me, it’s better than you could ever imagine.”

Your shock took over completely. You watched as he bowed his head and you felt his hot breath on your thighs. When his tongue met your pussy you gasped. He delved between your folds and swirled around your clit. Your nails went deeper into the wood and your thighs shook. It felt good. It shouldn’t, though.

He buried his face deeper and you watched his golden locks from above. He reached over blindly, his large hand found yours, and he guided it to the back of his head. He held it there a moment before letting go. You clung to him as he hands glided up your thighs and he framed your vee with thumb and index.

You arched your back and moaned. It was your declaration of surrender. You couldn’t resist it any longer. The heat stirred inside of you, the flames licking at your thighs and back. You urged Steve closer though he couldn’t possibly go any deeper.

His hands slipped down to the outside of your thighs. Your legs closed around his head and held him there. He tipped you slightly and you curled around him as he continued to lap. Your breaths mixed with throaty hums and you fell back.

You had one hand still on his head and the other in your hair as you cried out in a mighty climax. He didn’t stop until you were shaking across the counter. When at last his mouth left you, you shivered. A sudden coolness washed over your body. He stood and you looked at him through the haze.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you to your feet. You wavered and he spun you quickly. You caught yourself on the desk and he slapped your ass. “That’s it,” He purred. “You’re getting it now.”

He nudged your shoulder until you were bent entirely over the counter, your toes barely met the floor. He rubbed your ass and pulled your cheeks apart. His cock poked you as his hand slipped lower and he tickled just below your ass. You squirmed and he chuckled.

He felt around and his cock slipped lower as he bent his knees. He dragged his tip along your folds before prodding at your entrance. He shoved his hand between your legs and forced them apart.

He pushed inside and slowly stretched you around him. Your head shot up at the strain. A mix of pain and pleasure as he got deeper and deeper.

You whined as he bottomed out and his hips bucked almost instinctively. He hit your cervix and you cried out. He eased out and pushed back in. He repeated this again and again, his motion careful. Deliberate. He brought his pelvis flush to your ass and groaned.

“Fuck,” He slapped your ass again.

He drew back and slammed into you all at once. All restraint was lost and he thrust mercilessly. His pace was wild. You reached out to grab at the edge of the counter, your hips hitting the other painfully. The spark had caught and you felt the flame about to burst.

Your orgasm was surprising. More agony than pleasure. You whimpered and pushed your head into the counter as you heaved. You could barely breath as Steve never wavered. He fucked until you until your walls ached. Until they turned numb and you were nothing but a mewling fool before him.

He bent over your, his muscled torso against your sweaty back. He rutted atop you frantically. His hips jerked as his grunts deepened. His breath caught and he swore. He lifted himself off you and you felt the warmth spill down your ass and thigh.

You laid breathless as he panted behind you. He rubbed his cum into your skin with two fingers and you shook. You tried to push yourself up from the desk. He caught your hip and shoved you back down.

“Oh, we’re not even close to the finale,” He pinched your ass and you squeaked. “Not to mention the epilogue.”

tags to be added in reblog

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #fic #steve rogers fic #au #marvel #mcu #captain america #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers #dark!fic #dark fic #dark!verse #darkverse

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bytheangell · 3 years

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Happy Friday, friends!

This past week has been a lot, for obvious American reasons. Between obsessively checking the numbers and working I really haven’t done a lot else, besides the occasional video game (and by occasional I mean way too much Among Us) as a distraction. Also napping. I took a lot of naps this week (because sleep was a bit restless, oops). Today is a nice change of a teeny, tiny bit of actual hope that I’m still keeping at a slight distance because you never know but this is probably the first actual light at the end of the tunnel at this point and I’m SO GLAD FOR IT.

That said, I sure was super distracted all week and really couldn’t focus on writing. I have a few things I’m polishing up, and a few I started that I’m hoping to finish to post soon, so I should have some stuff coming up in the next week! I miiiiiight manage to finish and post one of them today before work? We’ll see. But I definitely didn’t get off to a great start writing-wise this month, oops. I’ve written a tiny bit every day thanks to Nano but it hasn’t been a lot, and I definitely have to do some catching up now.

I did, however, finish The Lost Book of the White! I’m re-reading the rest of Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy (which I should’ve done before TLBotW oops) then finally moving on to TDA! The good thing about being unable to focus on writing is that reading was a lovely distraction this past week, and once I got a bit into TLBotW I couldn’t stop and powered right through it.

And that’s that. Not much of an update this week, but hopefully more writing and reading updates to come, this week and the rest of the month! The weather is super nice and I have off tomorrow so I might go to my favorite hiking trail which I’m very excited about. I hope you all had a wonderful week, and some fun stuff to look forward to, and are staying safe and happy and healthy! <3 As always, my ask and messages are open if anyone ever wants to shout about SH/TSC, or life, or music, or literally anything at all!

#elle af #not sh

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you-are-my-neverland · 3 years

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nano 2020 final update

now playing: a playlist for yourself sad (slowed down songs)

final wc. 57, 114 words

general thoughts:

let me try to keep this short: i won!!! honestly, it was very exciting, considering this is like my sixth nano and the only one i’ve cracked an actual 50k on - ahead of schedule, too! (and on that - congrats to everyone who wrote this month! you all did awesome, even if you didn’t make your goal <3).

my writing pace slowed a little, which was fine - we did have thanksgiving break, but honestly that was just for me to further relax (& upon return the stress of school slammed full force hhhh). it’s been a bit tricky because i do have a large ensemble cast of varying importance whose relevance will likely cycle around, but incorporating them into the story is difficult. i’m trying to build relationships for further chapters, but without forgetting or sidelining anyone too much. it’s been a bit crazy, especially since my outline is not super detailed and i didn’t ever get around to writing my character arcs for book 1 like i was planning on. oh well.

we did hit the first little conflict hill though!!

the future:

honestly, i don’t know where i’m going with this - not my wip, but like with writing it and posting updates. this is technically my final nano update, but like i don’t plan on stopping writing this regularly because might as well ride with it, you know? anyways. i think when i have a title, i’ll make a wip intro about it. hopefully my writing doesn’t peter off - i’ll have to try to police myself, like that ever works out (well it did this year but. you know).

if you want to be on a taglist for future possible updates, let me know! right now it’s just @semblanche <3

also here’s the pinterest which i am still building and organizing (i’ll create a spotify playlist in due time)

some scenes:

(beneath the cut because i went a little overboard)

“You jest,” Eden said, looking amused. Ophelia noticed he wasn’t wrinkling his brow as much anymore, as if the headache had finally gone away, or at least she had distracted him from it, which she took as a win.

“I am only ever perfectly serious,” she said.

“I don’t doubt it,” Eden replied.

They looked out at the ocean a while longer.

notes: ophelia and eden (& sebastian) as friends with a certain vibe that i really like ... they’re kind of cute okay <3 but insofar platonic

“That’s fine, I always keep elastic ones on me,” Luce replied, continuing to chat as she began to braid after dividing Ophelia’s hair into a neat part. “Your hair is so nice and straight. It does whatever I want it too. I usually practice hairdos on Laurie, but both of her hair never wants to obey the laws of gravity or force, you know? I’m not pulling too tight, am I?”

Ophelia, who had actually sunk into a relaxed state and felt rather as if she had transcended—it had been so long since someone had touched her hair, her mother stopping brushing it long ago—almost missed the question, before quickly saying, “No, it feels really nice.”

notes: trying to build and integrate ophelia, luce & briar friendship so ophelia can have actual good friendships, also because healthy girl friendships are necessary for any good work xD

Asriel glanced at her over his shoulder, the flames casting a sharp outline across his narrow profile. “It’s not my fault if you take offense to every small thing. Maybe you should think about why you consider that to be a personal attack on you. Perhaps you’re doing something wrong?”

Ophelia exhaled sharply and looked away from him, her fist dropping to her side. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes, and it was so infuriating that she almost wanted to cry—cry over the fact that a single sentence made her want to cry to even begin with.

“Forget this,” she said, forcing herself to speak slowly as to not betray the tightness of her throat she felt all of the sudden. “I don’t need to go with you. I’ll make it out on my own. Have fun in the dark.” She stormed past him, shoulder checking him into the wall, and focused on her feet and surroundings carefully, not willing to embarrass herself any further.

“Ophelia,” Asriel said. Just her name. Nothing else. It was enough to make her stop, even as she insistently told her feet to keep going. She looked just barely over her shoulder at him and saw his body sigh with the sound of it leaving his lips. “Let’s go together,” he said, coming up to stand next to her.

“No way,” she said. “You might ‘need’ me, but I definitely don’t need you.”

notes: anyways ophelia & asriel are supposed to be like rivals and the reader isn’t supposed to like asriel that much, but also my personal bias shines through in my writing and i once again make my intentions obvious (enemies to lovers hghjskjs)

She opened her eyes and looked up to see Asriel staring back at her, sitting on the ledge and dangling his feet, a hand still over hers, despite the flames that had started to dance across his skin as well. He didn’t so much as flinch, though Ophelia could make out the slight reddening of his skin beneath the fire. She frowned at that and considered reeling it back in, but who was she if he wanted to risk his life? People got burned. It wasn’t anything that a healer couldn’t solve.

She was struck by his gaze. Not that it carried much intensity, but by the fact that it didn’t—he looked at her as he looked at everything else, with a gaze that simply swept by one momentarily and deemed it not worth his interest. Nothing was worth his interest. Nothing made him smile or laugh; he only frowned, slightly, at some things, sometimes at Ophelia, but he never looked at her with the burning hatred she felt he must see on her face every time they made eye contact.

notes: uh oh this rivalry might have been one sided the entire time? hm.

“You could have killed me.” When she looked up, her eyes were rimmed with red and her voice was raw with some unspoken emotion.

Asriel didn’t flinch. “It was a risk I was willing to take.”

“You don’t get to gamble with my life,” Ophelia said, spitting out each word as if they hurt her to say.

“It wasn’t even real,” Asriel replied, unbothered and unfazed.

“Merlin,” Ophelia whispered, looking away and then staggered to her feet, hands clenched into fists at her side. “I hate you so much. I wish I had made all of you burn alive.” She turned and slammed through the door, letting it bang shut with an echo that resonated throughout the room.

notes: oh yeah. this is why she doesn’t like him lol.

“How classy,” Bell drawled. “Ruel, do you think he should be allowed to rebel with us?”

Ruel shrugged her knobby shoulders, popping her bubble and swallowing the gum back between her teeth. “We shouldn’t invite people.” They exchanged a look with weighted emotions in their eyes that felt much too serious for the current situation. Asriel felt his fingers tighten around his arms, cutting off the circulation, as he waited.

“True enough.” Their heads turned in unison to blink at a still standing Asriel: Ruel’s heavy lidded pale gray blue ones and Bell’s dark brown eyes with the thin double eyelid crease.

“See you around, then,” Bell said. “If it’s fate, we’ll meet again.”

Asriel bit back a scoff, a short huff escaping his lips instead. “If that’s that you believe.”

“Ah, so he’s a skeptic,” Bell remarked, voice cold and eyes narrowing.

Asriel gave them both a long look, feeling slightly amused at the conversation and somewhat curious about what a further one would entail.

“I don’t believe in fate,” he said. “And even if fate does exist, it’s far from impartial.”

“Is that your way of saying you doubt we’ve made fate’s favorites list?” Bell asked, looking like they were half joking and half actually interested in what Asriel had to say.

“I don’t know,” Asriel said. “Do you honestly believe fate has taken any notice of you at all?”

“I’m not one of the Divine,” Bell said. “So I couldn’t say, honestly. Could you?”

Asriel let his hands drop to his sides, where he tucked them into his pockets and ignored the burn and pain that came with the movements.

“I would hope,” he started softly. “That fate has no plans for me at all. Good day.

notes: asriel pov asriel pov asriel pov! the way he’s one of what i like to call the core four (not me writing cour fore rip omg, but also that’s sebastian, ophelia, vincent, and him - our mcs if i ever had such a thing) but this is his first pov in 50k. bell & ruel are two minor characters that kind of wormed their way into my heart and now i think i’m attached - maybe they’ll all be friends.

#writers on tumblr #writing #my writing #creative writing #nanowrimo 2020 #nano 2020 #wip: nano 2020 #fantasy #friendship #eh whatever #12.3.2020 #chapter eight was a good chapter.#the way i have a projected ~31-2 chapters and like 1/4 of the way through the chapter count we're at 50k #omg #guess i'll go wild then #this is a long update rip #i just see asriel and i fall in love with him #he's like draco malfoy. but also he is NOT draco malfoy at all in the slightest it makes no sense

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shipmistress9 · 5 years

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FTLOAP: Chapter 45: The Time Will Come When You'll Have To Rise

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net - AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Part 1: Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11;

Part 2: Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1; Chapter 33

Part 3: Chapter 34; Chapter 35; Chapter 36; Interlude 4; Chapter 37; Chapter 38; Chapter 39; Chapter 40; Interlude 5; Chapter 41; Chapter 42; Chapter 43; Chapter 44

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

tagging @drchee5e @hey-its-laura-again @thepixiedustfactory

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Woohoo! I actually managed another chapter, hard to believe, I know...

I think at this point, it would be more sensible to remove any scheduled updates, and I just post the next chapter when it's done. Fair warning though: November is fast approaching now and with it NaNoWriMo. I'm not going to participate in that this year, but my alpha-reader does. So I don't know how much time he'll have for editing and helping. And after NaNo, I'm very close to my delivery date already, so no promises about updates then, either. However, I solidly plan to at least post one more chapter before that! Afterwards, I don't know how quickly I will get back to writing. If you have questions though, you can always contact me through PM here or through the ATOV Discord server. And without a regular update schedule, I now have a tagging list here, so if you want to get included there, just tell me. 😊

I feel positive about this other update because a good part of it is already written as I'd originally planned to have that scene in this chapter. But as it is, the chapter got pretty long already so I split it again. This time, the ending feels much more solid than the last time I had to do that, and I hope it feels that way for you, too.

This week's title comes from the song Warriors again by Imagine Dragons. After splitting the chapter, I again had to come up with a new title, and after a bit of thinking, this one felt exceedingly fitting. 😇

. o O o .

Throughout the following few days, Astrid kept pondering over it all; Eret’s accident and everything that had happened afterwards. It wasn’t entirely by choice; she much rather would have thought about Hiccup and how they could be together instead. But she was at a loss there, only having Hiccup’s renewed optimism to hold on to, and repeatedly going through the same pointless plans wasn’t exactly productive. Thinking about other problems instead wasn’t necessarily more pleasant, but it was still… easier.

And thinking about those incidents certainly had a grounding effect. The more she mentally reviewed the attempted stab in the back against Eret, the more certain she was about one thing – from the fierceness and aim of his attack, the now-dead nobleman had intended for it to be a killing blow. It was a hot topic of gossip among the nobles, with many supporting her opinion – without her ever having stated it openly – and being outraged on her and her future husband’s behalf, aided by more witnesses speaking up about their view of the man’s dishonourable attack. Tournament or not, melee or not, stabbing a man in the back was seen as low and cowardly. Some had even called for action against the man’s family, such as fines or other punishments. But as he was already dead, the King had dismissed the idea, saying that they’d been punished enough. However, the entire topic, with the number of witnesses essentially corroborating Astrid’s opinion, was enough that even Eret and Dagur had to admit that it probably hadn’t been an accident at all.

At first, accepting that fact had made especially Dagur’s anger at Snotlout grow even hotter, though not for long. Snot hadn’t gotten through that fight unscathed either, despite initial impressions. The hit against his head had caused a mild concussion, and the kick to his side had cracked a rib. If he’d lost on purpose somehow, then he’d made an incredibly bad bargain.

Both Eret and Snot had been confined to bed rest on the healers’ orders for the following few days, making Astrid anxious for both of her brothers. No matter how irritating Snot’s behaviour lately had been, she still cared for him. But now, two days later, Master Mulch had been willing to state that he was relatively certain that both ducal heirs would fully recover. Eret had even insisted on riding out for today’s hunt again; not to actually participate, but at least to show that he was recovering, that he was still there and the place at her side not vacant again.

And no matter how much Astrid – and practically everybody else – had scolded him for this unnecessary show of bravado, she was also grateful for it. Eret could be pretty foolhardy, she knew that perfectly well. But she also knew that he wouldn’t risk his health and life for something as superficial as this. No, she trusted in him, in his assurance that he was doing fine, and let it soothe her enough not to worry about his injury too much. His safety was another matter altogether, but there was little she could do about that. Right now, he was out in the forest, accompanied by Hiccup and Dagur, and probably with a few of her father’s guards keeping a close eye on him, too. That would have to be enough.

Sighing, she turned the next corner. For once, she had nothing to do; with her suitors being out on that hunt and with her governess being done lecturing her for today, she was at loose ends, for a little while at least. But as there wasn’t enough time to go anywhere, she’d opted for a stroll through the castle instead, with Timothy walking a couple of steps behind her.

Well, there was one place she could go, and if things were different, she would have gone to visit Fishlegs as soon as her governess had let her leave. But of course, that wasn’t an option these days. Just thinking about Heather made a bunch of twisted emotions rise inside Astrid. There was the fear that she might expose them, despite her declaration that she would keep their secret. She’d made it clear, after all: she didn’t feel any fealty to them, not when their actions might threaten her own little family. And no matter how much Astrid tried to avoid that thought; she was acutely aware of the fact that, if Hiccup wasn’t a consideration, she probably would have married Eret without question – and thus make Dagur more inclined to focus on his role as ducal heir as well.

But beneath that fear, she could also relate to Heather. The threat of having the future she’d been so sure of ripped away from her, of losing those she loved, and being ready to do everything to keep them… yes, she could sympathise with that all too well. She just hoped that it wouldn’t come to that, that Heather wouldn’t feel threatened enough to take actions against her relationship with Hiccup. Because Astrid wasn’t sure what she’d do then, was even afraid of how far she might be willing to go.

If only they would be able to come up with something of a plan, some way to achieve their goal without tearing anyone else down with them. She just wanted to be with Hiccup, to be able to love him in peace and spend her life with him. Was that really too much to ask for?

To soothe her anxiety at least a little, she pressed her hand to her chest, focusing on and basking in the warm glow of Hiccup’s soul. They would find a way! Somehow… Maybe running away really wasn’t an option, but that didn’t mean that there couldn’t be other ways.

With her hand still resting over her heart, she paused at one of the high windows and gazed out over the land around the castle. It was beautiful, with the lake to her left, the edges of the forest in the distance, and grassland in-between, littered with solitary trees and shrubs here and there. It was still early in the year, but it was obvious that spring was coming quickly now, trees and bushes showing first signs of green and some early flowers growing everywhere.

Yes, it was beautiful… But that didn’t change that it was nothing but a cage, binding and suffocating her.

She was about to turn away when a bit of movement caught her eye. There, on a meadow to the right, a handful of horses pranced over the grass and chased each other around. Some grooms were there, too, watching over the animals, all clearly enjoying the sunlight.

The sight gave Astrid a painful sting. Usually, visiting the stables on a day like this would be an option too, but… but not yet. Someday, she certainly would have the strength to enter the stables again. She was even looking forward to riding and generally being around horses again. But for now, the pain of losing Markor was still too strong. It had all happened so fast. In one moment, everything had been as usual and in the next, he’d just been… gone. She missed him with a dull ache in her chest, one that only worsened when she remembered how she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye in any way and had no way of remembering or mourning him.

Except… that wasn’t really true, was it? she mused with something of a grimace. She still had the statue Hiccup had given her as a Midwinter gift. As a reminder, he’d said... Her lips twitched into a sad smile as she contemplated the irony. He’d meant that it would be a reminder of him for when he couldn’t be with her, and not of the horse it depicted. But somehow, she felt like this was the perfect way to remember Markor: frozen yet so alive in this tiny figurine – as if he was about to turn and run around at any moment. The thought made a lump rise in her throat, but she managed to keep any tears at bay. She would miss him, would always remember him. But no matter how pointless his death had been, endlessly crying over his fate wouldn’t revive him, either.

Tearing her thoughts away from that path, they inevitably landed where she hadn’t wanted them instead. It wasn’t even farfetched, her mind quickly drawing the connection between Markor and Hiccup, of him giving her that figurine, of the nights she’d spend in the stables, so comfortable and optimistic about their future. She still trusted in the Gods, or whatever force had woven their fates together, but even that didn’t really help when faced with the hopelessness brought by rejecting one impossible idea after the other.

Maybe Dagur and Eret had been right after all and approaching Daniel with a request for help might work. But even though he certainly had been fond enough of Hiccup during the winter, Astrid wasn’t sure whether she could rely on just that flimsy hope, especially as he wasn’t to return for at least another week anyway. That would be hitting awfully close to when it would be too late…

She also was aware of a certain piece of parchment that was still safely stored away in her new treasure box. She was ready to use her father’s boon for this; they would probably need every bit of help they could get. But without a plan, she was afraid of revealing her feelings to the King. She just couldn’t predict how he would react. All she knew was that simply ‘requesting to marry Hiccup’ wouldn’t work. The King had made it clear that his announcement of her marrying one of the eligible noblemen currently courting her wasn’t something he could or would take back. And ‘giving Hiccup land and title’ was equally hopeless. Because Hiccup had been right, there was no land even the King could easily give away just like that.

It all seemed overwhelmingly hopeless, but she had to have faith, had to trust that they would find a way. Eventually…

Later, Astrid would be sure that what happened next had to have been the Gods who guided her steps. Meeting the Grand Dukes Oswald and Eret II in the vast labyrinth that was the castle’s corridors couldn’t have been just a coincidence – the timing was too perfect.

At first, she only heard a familiar voice from around a corner, one that made her feel a little more at ease in an instant, thanks to her mind associating it with enjoyable vacations in the South and days spent at Southshore’s sunny beaches. The voice spoke quietly, but as soon as she focused, the words became easily understandable.

“...just received a letter from Lord Gregson. Apparently, it is as I feared.”

“That’s unfortunate,” came Eret II’s muttered reply. “What exactly did he– Oh, hello Astrid,” he interrupted himself as she stepped into view, a fond smile spreading across his weathered face at her sight. “How are you, lass? Are you bored to death by all these tournaments and suitors yet?”

Astrid’s face twisted, unsure how to react to that. Of course, Uncle Eret knew her well enough to know that she didn’t exactly enjoy all this fuss, just like she in return knew that he wasn’t any better when it came to overly formal events. But on the other hand, he’d been in on this plan, so it felt a little two-faced for him to complain about them now. Either way, she couldn’t ignore the fatherly smile on his face and not the usual sense of ease it gave her either. And it again reminded her of how, under different circumstances, she’d be about to join his House, his family, and do so happily.

“You know me too well,” she played along, plastering an indulgent smile on her lips. “I’m just glad it’ll all be over soon.”

“Aye, it certainly will be,” Oswald agreed with a light snort. Beneath his own smile, he seemed troubled though, making Astrid wonder what the men had been talking about before she’d interrupted them.

Cocking her head, she tried to look as innocent as possible. “But enough of that. What was it you were talking about just now? It seems to bother you, is anything the matter?” She wasn’t even sure what kind of answer she expected. But asking couldn’t hurt, right?

“Oh, that,” Oswald waved her off with a forced smile. “That’s just politics. Believe me, you wouldn’t be interested in this, lass. If you really think tournaments are boring, be glad that it’s not on you to deal with such things, too.”

Astrid had to bite back any comment on that. It was so typical that the men wouldn’t tell her anything.

Eret II grunted in agreement and shook his head. “Yeah, this really is nothing you need to be concerned about. But it’s good that we met here. I wanted to ask whether my son is already settled in his new rooms. I hardly get the chance to talk to him these days, he’s always so busy.” He chuckled and winked at her.

Because of… reasons, Eret had been made to relocate into other rooms, reasons that made her have to hide a smirk. “As far as I know, he’s relocating today,” she replied as calmly as she could. “A group of servants should be transferring his belongings to the new room as we speak. At least I’m supposed to meet him there for a private dinner later – with a whole entourage of chaperons, of course.” She forced something of an amused grimace onto her face, hoping that it was an appropriate reaction. Deep down, she was glad over this development, though. With having made her unofficial choice at the ball came a few privileges that certainly were to her liking. Like being allowed to spend time with her future husband in a more private setting, with only her warder or maidservant and Sir Eret’s squire as chaperons.

Apparently, her reaction had been what the men had expected from her as they both chuckled fondly at her comment. Even Timothy behind her couldn’t stay completely quiet, covering up his laughter as coughing. Of course, his amusement had an altogether different reason, but that was something the Grand Dukes didn’t need to know about.

“That sounds about right,” Eret II eventually commented, sobering up again. “Then we better not delay you, wherever you were heading to. See you soon.”

The men nodded at her with something of an insinuated bow – more of a polite nod with a bit of a bend at the waist – which Astrid dutifully returned with a curtsy of her own before she took the obvious dismissal and continued on her way. The fact that she’d again been excluded from any political knowledge bugged her though, so when she reached another junction only a few steps further down the corridor, she went there, giving the Grand Dukes a last friendly smile as she turned around the corner. As soon as she was out of sight though, she made a step to the side to hide in a doorway, indicating Tuff to be quiet and follow her lead. Maybe, just maybe, she could learn something about the political situation of the Kingdom after all.

And for once, she couldn’t believe her luck.

“So, what was it Lord Gregson wrote to you in that letter?” Eret II said, picking up their conversation.

There was a low, unamused snort from Oswald. “Basically, that he’s giving up. He used so many fancy words that I think he asked one of Frigga’s Gythias to help him compose it. All of these wonderful, florid turns-of-phrase, on and on. About how honoured he felt that we put such trust into him and how he’d wanted to give his best to live up to these expectations and so forth.”

“Aye, I know the type of report,” Eret II said. “I think I’ve even written a few in my time, back when we were younger.”

“I know. I helped, remember? But you were drunk at the time, so I’m not surprised that you don’t,” Oswald said tartly but fondly. The pair of them walked past the doorway, and Astrid gave Tuff a look of dire threat if he so much as blinked loudly. Outside, Oswald continued. “But it all boils down to the fact that he doesn’t feel up to the task of rebuilding County Ravenledge. And at this point, it doesn’t even matter whether it’s because he feels as if the people there deserve better after all they’ve been through or whether he just realised how much work that would be and is too lazy to stand his ground under such circumstances. At least he’s honest enough to admit that he doesn’t feel up to the challenge. But that means that we have to find someone else to take it on, and I fear that the reasons for Lord Gregson’s pull-out will become publicly known sooner rather than later. Which also means that in a week or two, it’ll become increasingly difficult to find a replacement. Everyone is hungry for titles, yes, but that’s because they’re all spoiled brats who want to live like, well, nobles, not have to work with me looking over their shoulder.”

"Yes, I see your problem," came Eret II’s reply, his voice getting lower and lower as the distance between Astrid and the Grand Dukes grew. "I wish we could spare Osmond this problem in addition to everything else, but he has to know about it."

"No doubts about that. But maybe, this can even come in handy." Oswald laughed harshly. "Although, while it would make for a great white elephant, it’s getting the poor sap to accept it that’ll be the tricky part. We…"

The voices grew too low for Astrid to understand more, but she felt as if she'd heard enough anyway. Stunned, she stood in her doorway and stared at Tuff, unsure whether she was ready to believe what she'd just heard. But in his eyes, she spotted the same excited gleam that was buzzing in her mind as well, and tentatively, she let hope take roots inside her.

County Ravenledge… the name alone was enough to make her cringe at the reminder of Harold, of his foul breath on her skin and his filthy hands on her body. But he was the past and that wasn't what truly was on her mind anyway.

The man her father and the Grand Dukes had instituted as new Count Ravenledge had resigned his office. And now, it was back in the hands of the Crown, free to be distributed to whoever was deemed fit or worthy of the job.

Astrid's heart was pounding rapidly against her ribs and she was incredibly glad for the hard wood in her back keeping her upright. This was it! This was what they'd been looking for, the solution to their problem, the way out. If Hiccup became the new Count Ravenledge, then he definitely would be of a high-enough rank for her to marry him. Nobody would dare to object to such a choice.

"I assume you want to meet with Eret as soon as possible?" Tuff needlessly asked, emphasising the name to let her know that he knew who she really wanted to see. Astrid could only nod, her mind whirling with countless possibilities. "Then I suggest we return to your rooms and Ruff and I see whether we can help to get his new rooms ready. The sooner you all can talk this through the better.”

. o O o .

The reason why Eret had to move into other rooms was the source of a wide range of emotions to Astrid. It had all started with some whispered mutterings on the morning after the ball, whispers Astrid herself hadn’t learned about until a day later. Apparently, some people thought it was inappropriate for Eret, the soon-to-be-but-not-yet-husband of the Princess, to spend his nights in such close proximity to her. After all, he inhabited an entire suite of rooms in the family wing of the castle, only separated from his future wife by three corridors. Why, behind two sets of thick oak doors, all sorts of... things could happen in his bedroom!

Yesterday, when Astrid finally had heard them from Eret, she’d initially laughed before another thought had struck her, making her irritation smoulder. Apparently, people were serious about the insinuations against Eret’s character. Eret had slept in that suite for months now, ever since he’d arrived in the capital last fall. And back then, people had already believed them to be a ‘couple’, and had for years. But now it was a problem? Just when things were heating up to the point that Eret was surviving attempts on his life?

It was an obvious smear campaign, and her fury had started to kindle–

–Only to vanish like smoke in a high wind when Tuff had burst out laughing at her indignation and Ruff had, after fighting her own mirth, explained that she and her brother had started the whispers. But even this confusion – and granted, Eret’s and Dagur’s as well – hadn’t lasted long.

The rumours and public demands for decency had apparently all been part of their plan; a few comments down in the kitchens and washer-rooms and elsewhere had spread like a wildfire on open grasslands. With the castle still being unusually packed from the celebrations, there weren’t exactly many other places for Eret – and Hiccup – to move to. House Jag’r’s townhouse certainly was an option, but with Eret still healing and having to participate in the events again as soon as he was recovered, it was more sensible for him to stay at the castle. So, after some discussions – discussions in which the twins were included, in their positions as Eret’s apparent-betrothed’s personal servants – it was decided that Eret would relocate to the so-called haunted rooms.

At that, Eret had merely raised an eyebrow, and Dagur had made an encouraging gesture, all of them waiting for Ruff to continue in her explanation.

“The ‘haunted rooms’ are what the staff call the Greatpine Suite,” Ruff explained. “Two floors down from Astrid’s suite and on the other end of the building. Everyone thinks that they’re haunted because there’s this eerie whistling that everyone who stays there hears.” She met Eret’s eyes with a smirk. “So you’ll trade with the men currently barracked there; they’ll be happy to get out, even though your current suite is smaller. But surely a brave knight like Sir Eret of House Jag’r won’t mind, right?”

Laid out in his sickbed, Eret gave her a dubious look that made the twins burst out in even more laughter. Slapping her knee, Ruff gasped, “Don’t worry, there’s no draugr buried under the floorboards or anything else that people say about the rooms.”

“In fact, be honoured that we’re telling you,” Tuff snickered. “Because it’s a secret.”

“What is?” Astrid demanded.

“Why, the secret passage, of course!” Ruff said innocently.

Astrid blinked. “Secret passage?”

“Yup. The one that ends behind that particularly warty painting around the corner from your rooms, Princess,” Tuff said cheerfully. “It was probably meant to be an easy escape route in case of an attack, but hardly anyone knows about them by now.”

Astrid gave another blink as Eret protested. “But you two can’t be the only ones that know about them. Secret or no secret, it’s really hard to hide a whole passageway, even in a building this big. Someone else will make the connection and complain – and it’s too big a risk to use them, if the servants use them, too!”

“But the servants don’t use them,” Ruff emphasised.

“Present company excepted,” Tuff corrected, grinning. “They’re too small,” he mimed a space only a bit wider than his shoulders and lower than his head, “and filled with cobwebs and... gunk.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “And you use them for prank getaways?”

“Milady!” Ruff exclaimed, faux-scandalized. “Such accusations!” She smirked and said, “Besides, even the ones that do know...” She shrugged and looked at Astrid and Eret. “They’re all caught up in the romance of it all. I know at least one cook gave me a wink when I made the suggestion.” Spreading her hands out helplessly, she looked between the two of them. “They know what’s up and are rooting for you two.”

“Greaaat,” Hiccup drawled.

“It is, because it means that we can smuggle you in without a problem,” Tuff said, crossing his arms. “So say ‘thank you.’”

They had thanked the twins for their work. And now, two days later, all Astrid felt was a deep sense of gratitude and a good amount of anticipation, giddiness, and nervousness. If everything went as planned, Hiccup would spend this night with her again, and in her bed no less! Oh, if only it was that late already! She couldn’t wait to feel his hands on her body again, to kiss him and to lose herself in his touch.

But it was only mid-afternoon, with Astrid sitting at her decorated tea table, drinking tea, and nibbling at some light pastries as she waited for the hunting parties to return and for her private dinner with Eret to begin. And before she could enjoy feeling Hiccup’s closeness again, there was something else she had to do anyway.

Aside from making sure that they’d all made it back unharmed and wanting to be close to Hiccup again, she also couldn’t wait to tell them about the conversation she’d overheard. A part of her warned her to be cautious, to not get too excited yet. The idea of Hiccup becoming a full Count in only a few days, of him legally joining those participating in the tournaments and hunts to court her… it felt too good to be true.

Nervously tapping her fingers against the porcelain cup between her hands, she tried to imagine the reactions to her officially and openly changing her mind and choosing Hiccup instead of Eret. Would it be possible for her to ask her father to excuse Hiccup from participating in any fights, just to keep him safe? After what had happened to Eret, that certainly wasn’t an unreasonable concern, right? But would the King even support such a request? Would he support her choice at all? Or would it be better if she only made her choice public at the very last moment, not giving anyone even the slightest chance to take action against Hiccup?

For hours, her mind circled around those same thoughts, over and over, until a knock on her door drew her attention. Astrid heard a servant girl delivering a message to Ruff and it made her heartbeat quicken almost unbearably.

“Are they back?” she asked as soon as Ruff approached her and got up from her seat, unable to sit still any longer.

Her maidservant smirked. “Yes, they’re all back, unharmed, and Sir Eret awaits you for your dinner in about half an hour,” she replied in a ridiculously formal voice. Astrid’s lips twitched but she didn’t say anything and simply let Ruff dress her for the occasion, waiting impatiently for her to be done.

Walking along the corridors and down the stairs to Eret’s new rooms seemed to take forever. She knew that this distance served a purpose, one she supported wholeheartedly, but right now, the prolonged walk was driving her insane in her impatience. Eventually, Tuff halted in his strides though and turned to knock on a door to their right. As Eret’s only servant, it was Hiccup who opened them, the sight of him enough to somewhat calm Astrid’s unquiet mind. He was clearly happy to see them, his eyes nearly flowing over with love as they met her own. But there also was a certain tension in them, in his every movement, and after he’d closed the door behind them again, it became clear that Eret and Dagur were just as tense as he was, the atmosphere overall enough to make her forget everything else.

“What happened?” she asked anxiously, looking around from one man to the other. In a corner, she spotted a table set for two even though it was laden with enough food to last at least twice as many people. But where before she’d been looking forward to this informal meal with her brothers and Hiccup, she now couldn’t even think about eating anything.

“Nothing, really,” Eret eventually mumbled, looking up from where he sat on his bed’s edge. Astrid wanted to scoff at this obvious lie, but he lifted his hand to directly ward off her protest. “Nothing that changes anything, at least. It’s just been… let’s say, it’s been a rough day.”

Astrid still wasn’t inclined to let the topic drop, but before she could demand a more thorough explanation, Dagur already jumped in.

He was sitting backwards on a chair, his arms crossed over the backrest, but she suspected that he was still ready to jump in case Eret needed help. “A new rumour was spreading like wildfire during the hunt,” he grumbled, shaking his head in annoyance. “The rumour that… well, that Eret and I are more than just close friends since our childhood and that the whole betrothal is nothing but a charade to cover for us.”

Astrid could do little more than gape, her eyes wandering from Dagur to Eret and back again. They both looked heartbroken, hunched over and with their arms defensively crossed in front of them.

“Okay, but why’s that a problem?” Tuff commented after a few more uncomfortable seconds had passed. “I mean… it’s true? And it’s not as if that’s unheard-of; we have Freyr’s male Ástir for a reason, after all.”

With a heavy sigh, Eret raised his head to look at Tuff. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be much of a problem. But that didn’t make this day any easier. Every time we encountered some of the other men in the woods, they made comments about how I should be ashamed of myself for leading the Princess on like that. That I should openly stand to my preferences and tell her the truth, decline her choice, and leave her to someone who can truly satisfy her.”

“That’s a nice way to describe their insults,” Dagur scoffed angrily, but Eret just shrugged.

“It’s what it all boiled down to,” he replied, sounding tired. “And they’re right. I mean... Aside from Hiccup and this charade of a betrothal not being real anyway… It could have become real. And they would’ve been right; you’d deserve better than that, Swanja. Better than me.”

With the lump forming in her throat making it hard to say anything, Astrid made the few steps to cross the distance between them and sat down next to Eret on his bed. She wasn’t sure whether she was even capable of comforting him right now, but she at least had to try.

“Hey, don’t say that,” she said softly, reaching to squeeze his hand. “I… When I agreed to marry you, I knew about all this, remember? So whatever they said, it’s nothing but bullshit. And no matter how things are now… I rather would have spent my life with you, as my partner and best friend, than with any of those idiots who only see me as a trophy to be added to their glory.” Imagining a life where Hiccup didn’t exist felt weird. Wrong! But she also knew that what she’d just said was true. If it wasn’t for Hiccup, she would have gladly married Eret.

She wasn’t sure whether her words were able to help him though, or whether they would only make it worse instead. But after a short pause, Eret squeezed her back. “Thanks,” he muttered with a weak smile. “I just… well, I just hope that whoever Father might eventually pick as my wife will think the same. So maybe it’s even good that this cat is out of the bag now. It means whoever it might be will know what to expect right from the beginning.”

To that, Astrid wasn’t able to say anything. It was because of her that this was something to worry about again, and there was nothing she could do to help him there. But instead of letting the awkward silence linger, Eret shook his head and put on an almost scarily dark expression.

“But that’s not really the problem here,” he went on in a far graver voice than before. “The question is who started this ‘rumour’. And why now?” He motioned for her to sit down at the set table, gladly accepting her help to get up himself without straining his bound chest too much.

“Could it have been Heather?” she asked as she sat down on her seat, her worries over the other woman and how much harm she could do resurfacing again.

But Dagur vehemently shook his head. “That wouldn’t make any sense. That was a secret she would have wanted to keep, in her own interest. With everyone now knowing that I’m not interested in women, me producing an heir to get her and her child off the hook became just that much more complicated.” He sighed. “And I have no idea who else could be behind this, either. I mean… we tried to not let anyone know but it certainly wasn’t an ironclad secret either. Everyone could’ve found out.”

Astrid wasn’t entirely convinced though. “Are you sure? There were quite a few people who knew, after all. Could anyone–”

“Maybe,” Eret interrupted her, though directly contradicted himself by shaking his head. “But I don’t think anyone here started that rumour, and I can’t see why Cami would do so, either.” He paused, taking a deep breath, before he continued in a darker tone. “And I don’t want to suspect Snot. He’s acting weird, but… we still know him, right? And I don’t see why he’d do it anyway. Certainly not to separate us; he knows that you know, after all. No, I don’t think he would go behind our backs like that. Especially not with him still being not allowed to get up anyway. He didn’t even have the chance to spread such a rumour without it being too easy to trace it back to him. Anyway,” he went on, noticeably aiming to change the topic and mood to something more cheerful. “People know, and we’ll have to deal with it from now on. Which doesn’t really change anything; it’s just annoying.”

Dagur huffed. “Yeah. Just as annoying as your grandfather making the effort to come and meet you this morning only to yell at you two. I’m just glad this circulating rumour hadn’t reached him yet. But who knows? Maybe he’ll have a heart attack once they do. That would make so many lives easier.”

At the mentioning of his grandfather, Eret winced and threw an apprehensive and apologetic look to the side – or, more precisely, to where Hiccup was leaning against the wall next to her. Astrid turned too, and easily spotted the pained grimace that crossed Hiccup’s face. Their grandfather… As far as Astrid knew, this had to have been the first time Hiccup even met the old goat with the old man also knowing who Hiccup was. And judging by his reaction, it hadn’t been a pleasant meeting.

Without even thinking about it, she reached for his hand, letting her thumb glide across his knuckles in a way to comfort him. “What did he want?”

Hiccup seemed to appreciate the gesture, squeezed her hand in his and even let something of a weak smile tug at his lips before he said anything. “He scolded Eret for choosing what had to be the worst squire in history,” he said in a low, but clear and almost emotionless voice. “‘It obviously was the fault of that failure that your armour wasn’t in a good-enough state to deflect the blow like good chainmail should. That idiot might as well have tried to kill you himself and he should get executed for his sloppy mistakes.’” he quoted, and let out a harsh laugh. “He didn’t even deign to look at me or to talk to me directly.”

“And just like the old pigheaded asshole he’s always been, he didn’t even listen when I explained that that had only been my decorative armour anyway,” Eret grunted bitterly. “In opposition to all these noblemen who came here because your Father invited them and who knew about the upcoming tournaments, I didn’t bring my heavy battle armour from Eastervale when we came here last fall. That piece of ceremonial chainmail I was wearing was never meant to withstand such a blow, and we didn’t expect… Oh, whatever. He didn’t even want to listen to any of that anyway.”

“Yeah. You said that it wasn’t your good chainmail, and his response was ‘And whose fault is that!?’” Hiccup added, sounding pained.

“My father’s,” Astrid murmured.

Eret shrugged. “Yes and no. It’s not like we should have expected the armoury here to have chain in my size.” He flexed sarcastically, showing off his physique, and Astrid had to agree with the point; Eret was taller and broader in the chest than most men. “But let’s be honest here. This wasn’t about me,” he continued. “This was about him being upset that all of his dynastic game moves almost got wasted because his last playing piece got a dent. He wasn’t doing it to listen to anybody, just to vent his frustration that we’re not doing what he wants us to do, like good pawns.”

“Well, he never listens, does he?” Tuff threw in, mirth saturating his voice. “Although I’d love to make him listen, especially if someone told him about you and Dagur. Loki, I’d love to see his face.” He shared a dark grin with his sister, but quickly turned serious again, his gaze shifting to Astrid again.

“Anyway,” he went on, the changed tone of his voice and expression on his face showing that he was about to start an entirely different topic. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to tell the others, Astrid?”

For a heartbeat or three, she just blinked at him in puzzlement. But then, her mood brightened. “Right! There’s something I have to tell you,” she exclaimed at the reminder. The dark atmosphere had distracted her when she’d arrived, had made her focus on her friends’ – no, her family’s – problems instead of what lay ahead of them. But now, it was all back at the forefront of her mind.

Eagerly, she turned to look at the others again, her hand still holding Hiccup’s squeezing him. “I was lucky this morning,” she began, cheeks heating with excitement. “Tuff and I overheard a conversation between your fathers,” she nodded at Eret and Dagur. “Something about Ravenledge – the county, not the man. Apparently, the man who was supposed to become the new Count resigned – because it was too difficult a job for him, or something – and now, it’s back in the hands of Uncle Oswald and my father. If we can convince them to install Hiccup in that position, then that would be the solution, wouldn’t it?”

At first, all three men just gaped at her. They seemed to need a few moments to wrap their heads around this news, but Astrid couldn’t blame them; she was hardly able to believe in this simple solution either. And that was after she’d already had hours to think about it all.

“That… that could actually work,” Eret eventually muttered after a seemingly endless pause, something like cautious optimism swinging in his voice. “If Hiccup becomes a count, he automatically should become eligible for you, too. The only question is how we can convince them to–”

“I can use my boon for that,” Astrid interrupted him. Her gaze darted up to Hiccup, eyes filled with excitement. He knew that she was more than willing to use her father's promise in his favour. This was the solution they’d been searching for!

Hiccup was looking at her in return as well, but with a somewhat wavering expression instead of the hope she’d expected to see. As if he wanted to let that hope take over but didn’t quite dare to accept it.

Dagur seemed more confused though. “Uh, what boon?”

It took her some effort to tear her eyes away from Hiccup, from assuring him that this could work, and look at Dagur instead. “After… after Harold’s execution, my father granted me a wish,” she explained, grimacing at the renewed reminder. “A royal boon. He said I just need to name what I want and as long as it’s within his power, he’ll grant it to me. And I don’t see why naming Hiccup the new Count Ravenledge would not be in his power. Odin, from how it sounded, they even expected to have trouble finding someone who’d be willing to take this position.”

Eret nodded at her explanation, thoughtfully turning his attention to Hiccup. “What do you think?”

Hiccup’s eyes wandered from one waiting face to the other across the room. He still seemed hesitant though, reluctant even, and Astrid could read his thoughts as if he was saying them out loud. This is too good to be true!

She got up from her chair and turned toward him, heart singing when his hands glided around her waist practically on reflex. Capturing and holding his gaze, she tried to assure him that this was real. There wasn’t much to be misunderstood from the conversation she’d overheard, after all.

For an endless moment, they gazed at each other, silently communicating. Astrid didn’t need words to know what Hiccup was thinking and feeling, his love for her and the growing hope crystal clear in his eyes. He nodded ever so slightly, probably only visible to her, and his expression softened, his lips stretching into a cautious smile. “There was a time where I wouldn’t have felt comfortable with this solution,” he murmured, voice rough with emotions. Swallowing, he glanced past her to where Eret and Dagur had to be watching them. “I openly admit that I’d hoped to gain this title back when it was vacant a few months back. If… if things had been different that night, if I’d known you’d distribute the county right away, then I’d probably come up with some reason to stay. I would have tried to recommend myself as best I could, hoping…” He trailed off, his eyes gliding back to Astrid as he lifted one hand to caress her cheek.

She remembered that night, the first night she’d sneaked out to meet him at the stables. Missing out on those hours they’d spent together that night would have felt devastating back then… but if it had meant that he’d had that title already, it would have been worth it.

“But unrelated to that, I also wanted to gain this title, or any other, with my own means,” he continued in a low voice, his eyes back on her now. “ I wanted to prove myself worthy of you. But now, I know how stupid that was. Now, I won’t turn down such an opportunity. So yes, I’m okay with this idea. More than okay. I’d do anything to be with you, no matter whether it includes gaining a title without my doing or accepting any difficult circumstances that might follow.” He gave her a loving smile. “Because it will be worth it.”

From one moment to the other, Astrid felt as if every bit of space between them was too much, every thought about decency unimportant. Before she could think about it, she’d stretched, her mouth pressed to his and her hands on his back and in his hair pulling him even closer. This was it! They’d found their solution, the way to be together. This was really happening.

And it seemed as if Hiccup had accepted this truth now, too. He was kissing her back with equal eagerness, holding her close with one arm around her back and the free hand at the nape of her neck – still reflexively mindful of her hair as it seemed, but also unwilling to part from her anytime soon. From behind her, Astrid thought she could hear noises of amusement, chuckling and low voices talking, but she wasn’t in the mood to pay the others any mind. All she wanted to focus on was Hiccup, his body pressed so tightly against hers and his tongue dancing along her own, playful, teasing, joyous.

But it seemed as if at least one of those assembled in this room wasn’t quite as optimistic as the rest.

“When you listened in on my father and Uncle Eret,” Dagur asked, apprehensively but in a voice loud enough that it drew even her and Hiccup’s attention, “did they say anything about why exactly Lord Gregson resigned?”

Reluctantly, Astrid parted from Hiccup, though just enough to turn in his arms and give Dagur a thoughtful look. “I… don’t think so,” she said, her forehead wrinkled as she scoured her memories. “Just that there apparently were some reasons to it, but not what those were. Oh, and they said something about an… an elephant, but I don’t know what that was supposed to mean. Elephants are these weird animals in the Southlands, right? Big, with ridiculously large ears and noses?” She threw Hiccup a look and spotted his lips twitching. Clearly, he remembered how they’d looked at that book together, too. Especially the last pages.

“An elephant?” Dagur inquired, his brows furrowed. “That... Was that all they said?”

Astrid shrugged. “I… think so?”

But Tuff shook his head, drawing everyone’s attention when he pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning against. “No, that wasn’t all,” he said with a thoughtful expression. “I remember because it sounded so odd, as if it meant something completely different. So I memorised it to find out later. Lord Berserker said that ‘while it would make for a great white elephant, it’s getting the poor sap to accept it that’ll be the tricky part’.”

Dagur’s face darkened. “That’s what I feared,” he grumbled.

Eret cocked his head, clearly intrigued by his lover’s reaction. “What is it, Dag? Does that mean anything to you?”

Dagur nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. “A ‘White Elephant’ is something of an idiom we took over from the people of the Southlands,” he explained in a pressed voice. “It means it’s a… a trap, you can say. As in, they give the county to some rival they want to get rid off, knowing that the effort of rebuilding it will ruin them.”

From one moment to the other, Astrid’s good mood fell, her stomach feeling as if it was dropping down to her knees, not helped by Tuff nodding and mumbling something like, “When something looks too perfect, it probably sucks."

“So… so it’s not a sensible solution after all?” she asked meekly. All this had sounded too good to be true… did that mean it had been nothing but wishful thinking after all?

But Dagur shook his head, albeit reluctantly. “I… didn’t say that. I mean, let’s be honest, it’s not as if you have much to lose anyway. It’s not as if Hiccup would put some major fortune into this county or risk his high reputation if he wasn’t able to succeed.” He gave a harsh snort. “But I’ve read a few of the reports that came in from Ravenledge over the past weeks. The county really is in a horrible state. You’d have to rebuild the entire main city, along with some smaller ones, and that’s not even counting the long-term damage from the old count’s rule.” He started ticking off on his fingers. “You’d have to do all that without having the craftsmen nearby because they have no place to live or to work yet. And without being able to organise the work, because you don’t have any administration. Not even the Orders can be of any help with organising or manpower, because there are no central temples anymore. And in addition to all that, the people won’t easily trust yet another nobleman who comes to rule over them, especially not after Lord Gregson now gave up.” He shook his head. “I’m not saying it’s impossible, but...” He shrugged, looking grim.

Astrid felt the weight of Dagur’s words pressing down on them, noticeably dampening the good mood from only moments before. But before she could work through them and try to come up with reasonable objections, Ruff beat her to it. “Not trying to downplay the problems you just mentioned,” she said dryly. “But I think Hiccup and Astrid have an advantage your Lord Gregson didn’t have.”

Dagur cocked his head at her, puzzled. “And that would be what exactly?”

Ruff gave a snort. “Astrid is the Princess! It’s not just any other nobleman who comes to these people but the daughter of the King herself. That alone should give the people there a little hope, the trust that, this time, their problems get taken seriously. And I’d be surprised if the King wouldn’t send some more serious help in the form of goods and men and money when it comes down to ensuring his daughter’s future.”

“She’s right,” Eret threw in before anyone else could say anything, a grin on his face now as his eyes met Astrid’s. “And that’s not the only advantage you might have.” He took a moment to look from one to the other, his grin widening. “Remember what we talked about the other night? We might not be able to get Hiccup a title… But once he has one, we’re definitely in a position to support him. We’d still have to talk to our fathers, but I don’t think they’d be against drawing up trade contracts and assurances of support in advance. Hiccup might not have much to offer all on his own, but he sure as Hel has friends in powerful positions.”

Slowly, Dagur nodded. “That would make a difference, indeed,” he agreed, his face brightening. “It still won’t be easy, though. It’ll probably take years before something like normalcy or routine would come back to your life. Are you sure you’re feeling up to such a task and the responsibility?” he asked, his eyes firmly on Hiccup.

Hiccup nodded, though a little tense. “I’m prepared to take that kind of responsibility.” His eyes dropped to her, his lips forming a soft smile. “So yes. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

. o O o .

Oh, wow! Looks like there's an easy solution after all. 😇

Or... is there? *evil laughter in Author*

Next chapter

#FTLOAP #For The Love Of A Princess #Hiccstrid #hiccstrid fanfiction #fanfiction #httyd #httyd fanfiction #medieval au #Hiccstrid Medieval AU #royalty au #hiccstrid royal au #fluff #romance

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silyabeeodess · 4 years

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FusionFall: Thoughts on the Latest Update

So...guess who played through the whole update in one sitting?

I don’t usually give my thoughts on games themselves--if I do, it’s typically in regards to story and worldbuilding rather than gameplay--but there was so much to unpack with this that I feel like I want to cover some points. Some of this is just my personal thoughts, some of this will be a critique, and some of this--since I do post headcanons, stories, and a few theories--will be in regards to my approach on those now that we’ve been given new information. As this will contain spoilers, I’m leaving the info below the cut. That said, let’s begin:

To start out, I’d like to cover progression. I played with my lvl. 36 character, like I’m sure many of you have/will, and while I can’t speak for anyone playing this and receiving these missions on lower levels--when they’ll be getting other missions and the Nanos they need to level up at possibly the same time--as a result, I felt that the new World Nano missions we were given flowed really nicely. One thing that is both a gift and a curse with FusionFall is that, while it has vast areas to explore, rather than level up following a singular route like some games, you can do a bit of running around if you don’t stack your missions properly. Luckily, this doesn’t feel tedious simply because there is so much to explore and thanks to the quick travel system. However, for more experienced players who have already run through everything, I could see this being a little stale. The newer missions ran a pretty set path within a mostly singular route, so you could run from destination to destination rather than hopping from the different areas in the game. If they add updates with a similar scale, I hope they continue with this trend.

There were two new locations to explore in the game: Harada-Bridges Records and a digital world. Both are amazing!! I’m a sucker for this kind of worldbuilding anyway--I’ve made a huge list of products, stores, etc. in FusionFall and the Cartoon Networks shows just so I can pull them in to my stories rather than use generic stuff--but this took the cake. The team didn’t need to go this far, but they did. And I love them for it. The record studio had posters for bands and refs to some of the cartoons, it added more to the lore with the Gangreen gang and fleshed them out a bit, and they just looked awesome. I mean, look at this: The first words out of my mouth on seeing the digital world were literally, “Oh Mama!”

It’s not anything super complicated, but it has this awesome, almost Tron-like aesthetic that’s just beautiful. The glowing walls with shifting colors was a great touch and the enemies fit perfectly into this.

Speaking of enemies, let’s get to them and the new combat introduced. 99% of the time, unless it’s for an event, I play solo. (It’s just what I’ve always done.) And at this point, I’ve gotten pretty good handling the controls for the game if I do say so myself. Not that they’re overly complicated: Once you remember the buttons and what you need to look out for, you’re pretty golden.

Some of the combat introduced actually surprised me.

The enemies themselves weren’t anything too original, a lot of them we’ve seen before, but some of their abilities will catch you off guard if you’re unprepared. There’s a fusion monster that splits into two upon death that you have to beat, and then you later have to fight three Fusions at once, some of your Nanos abilities do nothing, and they’re constantly blasting away at you. I died once to the 3 Fusions, but handled myself pretty well: It did, however, force me to rethink my strategy in a way I never had before, which was refreshing. I couldn’t even attempt to take on one Fusion at a time in the group by luring one away because all of them reacted, so I ended up having to run around constantly as I was attacking in order to avoid getting bombed by fusion blasts. I like this experiment, as it breaks the old formula and gives the average player a new challenge without becoming frustrating. I hope the team continues this!

One thing that is frustrating though, and it’s been a problem since before the update, has to do with the fusion matter in Fuse’s Lair. Keep in mind, while I’m fighting three teams of three Fusions one right after the other, I only see one Revive ‘Em all the way at the start on the map, which is huge. (I got a bit frustrated back when I had to battle Fuse because the Revive ‘Em for that was pretty far too, so I constantly kept having to run back to Fuse through a course of fusion monsters and ziplines even though the game was saving my progress during the fight.) I get that it’s always been a thing when you tackle a boss and it’s a reasonable penalty for the most part, but when you have to go through such a massive location it gets a little ridiculous just to have one. Especially due to the fusion matter present in the Lair. Story-wise, it makes perfect sense: You’re in the belly of the beast, so to speak, and in most likely the location with the highest concentration of pure fusion matter on Earth. However, where this fails in terms of gameplay is that, not only can you step in it and have no idea because everything looks the same, it’s right in the middle of walkways you’re forced to go through or in small patches you accidently step on because again you can’ t see it like in the rest of the game. It’s a good thing I kept my Grim Tokens for a rainy day, because one tini-tiny patch literally killed me immediately after battling the last trio of Fusions despite the fact that there was no indicator I was standing in it during the fight. It makes it hard to even find somewhere to stand to recover as you’re going through, and it’s one thing I do hope they fix even if I never have to go back to the Lair myself.

Getting to some of the story/worldbuilding stuff, again, I do love where they’re taking the game. You can tell these guys aren’t just trying to make random missions for funsies; They’re taking plot development seriously, trying to connect various dots and add a whole new chapter for us to explore. Of course, you know I already love it, but also, not gonna lie...

I’m happy that it looks like I was right on the hivemind and symbiotic nature of Fuse with Planet Fusion theories. :)

As for the Belladonna/Buttercup one, I figured I probably wouldn't be right about it back then and, sure enough, the memory-loss idea was kept. The fact that the team actually brought more to such a minor thing in the game overall pleasantly surprised me though. While I can’t say I like the take due to the plot holes remaining, it’s not something I pin on the team as it was present in the first version of the game and even one of the devs commented on it being a little off and them needing to change some of the dialogue around it in a YouTube vid. There’s only one negative that I have to say about it and that’s an additional plot hole that was made by introducing “Belladonna” with her own separate Fusion and Nano. If she and Buttercup are one and the same, then it doesn’t really make sense that there’d be another one of her. Memory loss or no, Buttercup’s still Buttercup and from the information we’ve been given on the creation of Fusions, her Fusion wouldn’t change just because of the amnesia unless maybe they’re going for a split personality route, but even that seems a little weak--especially since we’re shown during the mission that Buttercup maintains fragments of her memories and then she remembers her true identity pretty fast. I think they’re working with it the best they can without tearing away from the original material though, which I really respect. I hope we get to see where Buttercup is going in the future now that they’re doing more with her character and giving her a chance to shine. That mission in particular felt like reading the chapter of a good comic, where you’re snapping at the bit waiting for the next issue to be published.

However, as for my personal stories, I’ll probably still be keeping to the Belladonna/Buttercup ideas that I had before and I’ll still leave the theory up for the sake of that theory, even though it was wrong. There are some things I’d like to play with for stories.

Well, Fusion Fellas, looks like we’ve got a lot to look forward too and a whole new world to explore!

#silya speaks #opinion #thoughts #fusionfall #fusionfall retro #video games #buttercup #fusions #critique

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shadowsong26fic · 4 years

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Coming Attractions!

First Monday of the month, woohoo!

(And also kind of a NaNo roundup post because that was last month, after all…)

NaNo:

Sooooo I didn’t finish, lol. Not that I was…super expecting to, exactly, but I was hopeful! I think I just missed too many days in a row and lost all my momentum.

In terms of my goals, I was hoping to write:

1. 20-25k on Precipice 2. 20-25k on our faces like a mirror 3. 10-20k on Other Projects. 4. 50-70k total

In terms of what I actually accomplished:

1. 9,241 on Precipice (Sooooooo....about half of what I’d hoped, a little less. But I still got a fair amount done/prepped for upcoming chapters, plus a couple chapters actually posted, even while doing other stuff, so...go me!) 2. 9,043 on our faces like a mirror (Again, a bit less than half of what I’d hoped for, but I got enough done for the story/etc. to take a real Shape in my head. ...ish. See the specific OFLAM stuff later on in the post...) 3. 10,601 on Other Projects (Hey, I actually met this goal! ...barely, but still! Mostly thanks to the Nikita/Rebels crossover, lol...) 4. 28,885 total

Original Fiction:

I got a decent chunk of a big backstory piece for Lux done (in the form of a “then” and “now” set of scenes/vignettes for the five Archangels)--that being said, I’m not sure I actually like what I have there, lol. I know more or less what I need to cover, but the details are fiddly. Also not sure whether I should refer to Lux by her current name, for consistency’s sake, or use a different name (either Lightbringer or just Lucifer) since she does technically reshape her name after being released when the main Apocalypse storyline kicks off…also debating whether Lux should be/present as female way back when--angels don’t really do gender the way humans do in this ‘verse, but the closest human term for Lux would be genderfluid, sooooo IDK. Also also, for the ‘Now’ part…ehhh, I’m not sure I should have this be the first thing I post involving Trixie…but I’ll keep poking at it and see what comes out.

(I’d also planned to work on the big Kesshare character study saturation for The Farglass Cycle this month, and maybe go back to my untitled first-contact story, but neither of those happened, lol.)

Precipice:

We’re in the home stretch! Kinda. So to speak. Probably three to four more chapters in Arc Seven, which I’m hoping-fingers-crossed I’ll finish by the end of the calendar year??? (But given how much other stuff I hope to work on (see Other Fanfic Projects for more details…)

At that point--and I know I’ve said this before, and I’ll probably put it in an A/N in the next chapter or so, but following the end of Milestones, I’m planning to break off into a second/sequel fic, working title Protectors. This is at least in part because length (over 200k wtf I was anticipating 50-75k, maybe 100k, for these seven arcs @.@), but also was sort of planned even without the Length issue, due to some thematic/structure shifts following a six-year timeskip. Which, if you do the math, you can probably figure out where that’ll land us and why I might be structuring it this way…

Anyway, I’ve increasingly realized that there’s some stuff I should probably set up that I’ll need for later arcs in Part 2 involving some Rebels characters, more with the Last Batch, plus a Sith Apprentice who needs to turn up and die (although the gap between Infernalis and the next apprentice I actually care about/have a name and some kind of Plot for is only about four years in my mental timeline, so maybe there isn’t an active Apprentice in that period*…hmmmmm…), some background about the Hands, etc. But I feel like it’s all a little too disjointed for an entire additional arc. So, Arc 7.5, tentatively titled Preludes, is also going to be a thing XD I don’t think I’ll have a fixed schedule for that vs. the main storyline--and, honestly, it’ll probably work more like a collection of one-shots taking place during the timeskip than a proper Arc, but a little more Relevant than stuff that goes in Bonus Content, if that makes sense? It’ll probably be posted alongside at least arcs 8 and 9. Which, incidentally, take place more or less back-to-back and cover a fairly short period of time, but there is A Lot of plot/setup that goes into them. Like. If I tried to do it all as one arc, it’d be at least twice as long as any of the other arcs I’ve done, possibly including Arc Four--certainly over twenty chapters, I think--plus there’s a good (and by good I mean Horrible) place where I can split the arcs, so…we’ll see how that goes.

(…still not sure what to do with Maul, lol. He may just be Sir Darth Not-Appearing-In-This-Fic, or he might turn up in arc 10/11/13, which are the sort of vaguest of the next seven arcs which make up Protectors, in terms of how much I have planned out…)

(*On a semi-related note, I’ve been asked about Inquisitors a couple times in comments lately, and…well, I’ll probably mention this when I reply to the commenter in question, but I figured I’d set it out here as well, in case anyone else was wondering the same thing but doesn’t read other peoples’ comments. Like I’m pretty sure I mentioned at the start, when I plotted out** the bulk of this fic, I hadn’t seen Rebels yet. I’ve since decided to integrate a few characters/plot points (Kallus and Zeb will feature prominently in a subplot in arcs 13 and 14, for example), but, as a rule, characters and plot points from Rebels haven’t been taken into account unless I Really Like Them and/or they’re a good way to fill in a plot hole in a later arc, as with Kallus and Zeb. So, for example, when I include Thrawn, I’m writing more towards Legends!Thrawn in terms of personality, though the two have blended a bit in my head and I do reference specific events in Disney!Thrawn’s personal timeline; and b) more relevantly, I hadn’t made any plans to include Inquisitors, and that…hasn’t really changed. So, I might have them in Preludes, but they almost certainly won’t show up on-page/be super-relevant in the main arcs of the fic, sorry :/ )

(**Loooool I say “Plotted Out” like I’m the kind of author with a Master Plan or at least an outline. But I did have a general idea of the Major Plot Points going in, such as when Rex and Ahsoka would turn up, Luke’s storyline with Lavinia, how many Apprentices I would need to make them work, etc., and I’ve had parts of Arcs 8, 9, and 14 written for like at least two years now, so I know more or less where I’m going--though they’ll be edited once I have more of the connective tissue in place, in case I’ve accidentally Jossed myself…or I change my mind, which is becoming A Possibility with a major event set to happen in Arc 14, so…we’ll see.)

Aaaaaanyway. Exciting times ahead, I hope!

Other Fanfic:

This month, I finally posted another AU outline, woohoo! …I mean, it was a super-niche Nikita/Rebels crossover with a handful of OCs thrown in but who’s counting XD (I do actually intend to finish Let’s Go Steal a Crossover and update the Ventress one at some point but…yeah).

I also put out a Kallus one-shot that I think turned out really well. May do more of those at some point, who knows…

I made some significant progress on our faces like a mirror, as mentioned above! But now I’m waffling a little bit over structure. Basically, the fic covers Bo-Katan’s backstory from the time Satine becomes Duchess, through the Civil War, and eventually leads to Bo’s eventual break with her sister to join Death Watch. It comes in two pretty distinct halves--what I call the Fugitive arc in my notes, which covers the Civil War, and the Breakdown arc, which is everything after her return to Sundari.

So, my original plan was--prologue covering at least part of the final Epic Screaming Match that leads to Bo’s departure; jump back to the Fugitive Arc; and then follow through until we catch up to the prologue, with a coda/epilogue with her and Pre Viszla. The problem is, there’s…really not a lot to connect the two halves??

I’ve got a couple options on what to do about this, but I’m not sure which would be best.

Option One: Keep the structure as-is and just let it be episodic.

Option Two: Keep the structure as-is and find some way to connect the two halves (i.e., a recurring antagonist; I do have an idea of who this could be, but the problem is, it takes away a good chunk of the focus from Bo and Satine’s relationship for the Breakdown Arc…which I don’t really want to do.)

Option Three: Remove the framing device and focus on the Breakdown Arc, and include the Fugitive Arc as flashbacks, since the Breakdown Arc can’t really stand on its own. (The main issue I have with this one is that, if I want to actually write out future chunks of Bo’s life later--meaning, her time with Death Watch, and getting her from TCW to Rebels--I won’t have these flashbacks and I don’t want to change the structure too radically for any eventual sequels? Also, I’m not sure how I feel about a flashback structure for this fic in general…)

Option Four: Remove the framing device and focus on the Fugitive Arc, ending the story with Bo’s return to Sundari. (Two issues with this one--I really do want to go into the Breakdown Arc; that’s where my interest in this story started. Also, due to the constraints of setting and so on, Bo interacts with…like…two canon characters over the course of the Fugitive Arc? And while I don’t really have a problem writing a story that’s essentially a Backstory Epic for a tertiary character, populated by about 90% OCs, I’m not sure anyone actually wants to read that, except as the lead-in to the Breakdown Arc??? But maybe I’m overthinking…)

…so, yeah. Any thoughts/opinions on which option would be Best? (I may make a separate post asking the same question later, but figured I’d lay it all out here, too!)

Also, I’m working on a Secret Santa project, and probably not going to use OFLAM for SWBB, which means I need to come up with and write a different plotline of some kind, so back to the drawing board on that one…

Also also, I do genuinely plan to get Distaff off hiatus At Some Point, especially since I’ve gotten some new comments/responses lately…but given how much else I have on my plate, writing-wise, that probably won’t happen until next year, alas.

Anyway, the long and short of it is--lots of writing planned for this month! Now let’s see how much I actually get done XD

What about the rest of you? What’ve y’all been up to/what do you have planned for next month?

#coming attractions #miscellania #shadowsong writes star wars #shadowsong writes original fic #shadowsong writes crossovers #shadowsong writes self-indulgent bs #feedback greatly appreciated #our faces like a mirror #precipice verse #nano2019

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aceofstars16 · 5 years

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Trapped in the Past (Chapter 1)

Welcome to...the first chapter of my take on @artsycrapfromsai‘s Timetrapped AU! I really love this idea and I hope y’all like it too! Here’s hoping Nano helps me update faster haha xD

When Mabel and Dipper fight over a time machine, they find themselves sent back thirty years in the past. Now it's up to the younger versions of their great uncles to get them home.

Chapter 1 - It All Started With a Fight

Dipper finds himself in a snowy Gravity Falls, years before the Mystery Shack was a tourist trap. A few states away, Mabel discovers that she isn't in 2012 anymore.

2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

AO3

Cold. That was the first thing Dipper felt – which was a rarity for him as he was almost always sweating. Shaking his head, he looked up and immediately froze. This was not right, this was not right at all, because there was snow on the ground.

No, no, it was fine. They had a time machine, they could just go back and fix everything, all he had to do was get Mabel and convince her that - oh no.

Dipper looked around frantically, searching desperately for his sister. But she was nowhere to be seen.

“No, no, no, no…MABEL!”

Scrambling to his feet, Dipper searched frantically for any sign of his sister, but aside from the trench he had made in the snow, there was no sign of any other creature around. Oh gosh, this was not good…

Taking a deep breath, Dipper tried to reason it out. She couldn’t be that far. Unless she had run off. He quickly shook his head; Mabel wouldn’t do that. But they had been arguing over his perfect day with Wendy when…something had happened. A tussle with the time machine and now she was nowhere to be found and he was here, in the snow. Only when the reality settled in, did he realize he was freezing.

Casting another desperate look around the woods, Dipper rubbed his arms, trying to figure out where in the world he was. Wait…that “w” shaped tree looked familiar. It was in the clearing where the carnival was being held! Which meant the Mystery Shack was…spotting the almost hidden path, Dipper sighed a breath of relief. He wasn’t lost.

Vowing to come back and make a more thorough search for Mabel once he found Grunkle Stan and maybe some warmer clothes, Dipper made his way through the snow as quickly as he could, but his teeth were already chattering like crazy.

As he walked, Dipper felt himself warming up, if only slightly, though every time the wind blew, he would start shivering again. Gosh he sure hoped Mabel wasn’t out alone in this cold too. Though her sweater might keep her a little warmer, unlike his vest, which wasn’t doing much to conserve warmth.

After what seemed like ages, Dipper spotted a familiar clearing and he raced forward, his cold limbs stumbling in the snow as he ran. But as he entered the clearing, he slid to a stop.

The shack in front of him was familiar all right, it had the same build as the one he knew, the same triangle windows and steep roof, but there was one glaring difference. There was no Mystery Shack perched on the roof, no signs pointing to the gift shop. In fact, the only sign he saw was a blatant “no trespassing” sign.

“G-great…” he muttered to himself. It seems he was stuck in some time before Stan had turned his house into a tourist trap.

A vicious gust of wind slammed into Dipper’s back, resulting in him shivering like crazy. Oh well, Mystery Shack or no, he needed to get warm. And surely Stan would help him out, right? He couldn’t be that heartless.

Taking a deep breath – which only made him feel colder – Dipper made his way to the front door and steeled himself before knocking. Only after his hand hit the wood did he realize he hadn’t come up with a cover story as to why in the world he was out in the woods all alone.

The door swung open and before Dipper could even process what was happening, he was looking down the sights of a crossbow.

“Have you come to steal my eyes?!?”

For a second, all Dipper could do was stare at the man in front of him. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair, an unkempt shirt, a cleft chin- wait, that wasn’t right…

“S-Stan?”

The man, whose eyes had been wide with paranoia a second before, narrowed to slits. “Who are you and how do you know that name?”

“I uh, you aren’t, um-“ Dipper fumbled with his words, not even knowing where to start. Because this was not what he had been expecting at all. Maybe some suspicion, yes, but not a man who looked like he was about to lose his mind. Could this really be a younger Stan? It looked like it could be but something didn’t quite seem-

“Wait…six fingers?!?” Dipper blurted it out before he could even think, his eyes transfixed on the man’s fingers. Could it…could it really be…? “You-you’re the author?!?”

Looking up at Stan-maybe-not-really-Stan, Dipper gawked. Could he really be meeting the author of the journals?!?

For a moment, the author just looked at him, confusion flittering through his eyes, but then they narrowed again. “I don’t know who you are or what you are talking about but you need to go, now.”

The excitement from a moment ago deflated and Dipper looked at the snowy landscape behind him, then back at the stranger, who he was still convinced couldn’t possibly be his great uncle or, if he was something must have happened because this man was nothing like Stan. “But, but, I-“

“Go on!” With a shooing motion, the author made to close the door but Dipper quickly grabbed it.

“Wait! I-I don’t know, I don’t have a place to, I…” Words failed as Dipper tried to figure out what to say that wouldn’t completely ruin the timeline while also convincing his hero to not throw him out into the cold.

Once again, the man narrowed his eyes, looking about a second away from slamming the door shut on Dipper’s fingers. But then a gust of wind blew against the house, chilling Dipper to the bone as he pulled his hand back to hug himself, trying to conserve warmth.

A moment later the door opened all the way, but before Dipper could react, a bright light was shining into one eye, then the other.

“Agh, wha?” Blinking his eyes, Dipper tried to clear the spots away.

“You can come in to call your parents and warm up, but that’s it.” Stan-not-Stan waved him inside and despite still being confused out of his mind, Dipper stepped inside, rubbing his arms to try and warm up a little more. However, the interior wasn’t entirely warm either, as if the heater only came on once a day and the rest of the time the house was just slowly getting colder. It was still significantly better than outside though.

The decoration on the other hand, was terrible. Dipper thought the Mystery Shack was bad, but this was worse. There was somewhat of an organized chaos in the museum, but this? This was utter chaos. Papers were littered all over the floor, random specimens were lining the shelves. Dust floated in the air. It looked like the place hadn’t had a good cleaning in months…

A blanket being shoved close to his face interrupted Dipper’s view of the room, and all thoughts of the mess dissipated as he quickly grabbed the strange smelling fabric and wrapped it around his arms. If it had been any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have willingly touched something that smelled so unpleasant, but right now anything to help him warm up was welcome.

“The phone is just over here.” The author was looking at Dipper with narrowed eyes, which was a little unsettling. Then again almost everything about this was unsettling.

“Oh…phone…right…uh…” Dipper played with the tassels on the blanket, because he could totally call his parents but they wouldn’t pick up. Heck he wasn’t even sure how old they would be right now.

“This way.” There was a harsh, almost growl-like tone in Not-Stan’s voice, but as Dipper hesitantly followed him, he couldn’t help but think his behavior – and how he kept glancing at Dipper – was more reminiscent of someone that was more anxious than aggressive.

They reached the phone, but as Dipper picked it up, he looked at the man and then at the dial.

“Well?”

“Ummm…I don’t remember their number…” A lie, but at the moment, Dipper didn’t have any better ideas.

Eyes narrowed even more, then the author ran a hand over his eyes. “Alright, tell me why you are really here? Were you sent by someone? How did you know my br-Stan’s name?”

Dipper opened his mouth, only to close it again. He had no clue what to say or do and he found his legs starting to pace as he tried to figure out the answer. “I-I don’t know how to…agh, I mean…no I wasn’t sent by anyone, it was all an accident with my sister, and about Stan…” Pausing, Dipper looked at him, needing to know. “How do you know Stan?”

“That is none of your business!”

Dipper stumbled back at the outburst. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t tell this man how he knew Stan without possible disrupting the timeline, but he didn’t really have any good alternatives.

A sigh escaped the author, and despite still giving Dipper a wary look, he also took a step back and made a placating gesture with his hands. “Alright, alright…how about…what’s your name?”

Well at least that was one question he could answer. “Dipper. And you are…?”

The man quirked an eye at his name, but seemed to shrug it off. “Stanford Pines.”

“What? But, but-” Dipper blurted out before he could even think. There was no way this was Stan, but…he had the same name and he looked like Stan too. What was happening? “I…how are you…you said Stan, but, you’re not Stan and…” Dipper didn’t even realize he was pacing until a foot slammed down on the floor in front of him, making him skid to a halt.

“That’s it, you need to tell me right now. How do you know my brother?”

“Wait…brother…?” Dipper stared at Stanford-but-not-the-grunkle-Stanford-he-knew, did… “You…Stan…he’s…your twin?”

A small frown grew on Stanford’s face and he answered in a strained voice. “Yes…but you still haven’t told me how you know Stan.”

“I…” Dipper took a step forward, his feet ready to pace again, but an arm blocked his way.

“Tell me. Now.”

“I want to but it could mess up the timeline and…oh no I didn’t mean, uh, I-“

Stanford’s eyebrows shot up and he straightened up a little. “Timeline?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing I uh…agh!” Pressing his hands over his eyes, Dipper tried to think of something, anything to clear up that he wasn’t a danger but also not…royally mess something up by saying anything about the future.

“You know my brother from another time then?”

Hands dropping to his sides, Dipper pulled the blanket – which was pretty much falling off of him from all the pacing – around his shoulders again before shrugging. “Yeah…but I don’t want to-“

Stanford held up a hand. “You don’t want to mess with the timeline.”

Dipper nodded uncomfortably, not really sure what else to say. Then Stanford looked at him, suspicion still clouding his gaze.

“We need to get you back. I assume you have a time machine of a sort?”

“Yes…and no…I looked for it but…Mabel! She, she’s still out there! We gotta look for her, and I bet she has the time machine since I couldn’t find it.” As he spoke, Dipper looked down at his shorts and vest combo, and frowned. It worked well for the summer, but he needed about five more layers for all the snow that was outside. “I don’t suppose you have any clothes I could borrow?”

A thoughtful frown grew on Stanford’s face. “I might be able to find something that could work.”

Snip, snip. Ford tried not to think about how he was destroying his clothes for an absolute stranger – not that he ever wore these, they had been buried in the bottom of his sock drawer, but still. Everything about this encounter with the kid – Dipper - was suspicious and he did not trust suspicious. As far as he knew, this could be Bill trying to distract him, and he couldn’t afford to let anything distract him. But then again, right now he was just waiting, biding his time hoping that Stan would actually come.

Looking up, he saw Dipper watching him, his eyes transfixed on his hands. Old insecurities came to the surface of his mind. On any other day he could brush them aside with some ease, but in his current mental state that was pretty much impossible.

“Here, these should work for a short period of time.” Shoving the makeshift legwarmers at the kid, Ford stood up and hid his hands in his coat pockets. Shaking his head to try and clear away the insecurities, and the voices he could swear he was hearing. Weirdo. Idiot. Looser. The words only seemed to grow louder the more he tried to ignore them. Maybe some fresh air would do him some good. The cold might at least help wake him up. It had been what, an hour since his last cup of coffee? And he was starting to feel it. Later, he could deal with that later. First, get this kid out of here, then he could focus on keeping his eyes open so Bill couldn’t continue his schemes.

“Yeah this is fashionable…”

Dipper’s words interrupted Ford’s thoughts and he glanced at the boy, who looked almost amusing with his shorts and three pairs of socks turned into legwarmers.

“No one will be out in this weather. I think I have a spare coat you can put on to keep your arms warm.” Besides, there are weirder looking things in this town. Ford didn’t voice that thought, and as soon as it crossed his mind, he realized he might be letting down his guard once again. That wouldn’t do.

Walking to the coat closet – which held more notes and inventions than coats – Ford rummaged through until he found the smallest coat he owned, all while trying to keep an eye on Dipper. Trust Bill to send a kid in to act all innocent only to jump on him the second Ford turned a blind eye.

“Here, it will be big, but better than nothing.”

Big was an understatement. Ford had to help the kid roll up the sleeves, which kept swallowing his hands, and it was almost dragging on the floor - in the snow it would most definitely get wet. But there wasn’t much he could do about that, it’s not like he had any safety pins lying around. Or if he did, he didn’t know where they would be. The last few weeks had been comprised of trying to hide his journals and not totally lose his sanity. Not much time to take note of insignificant things like safety pins.

“That will have to do. Now, come on, let’s find your time machine.”

“And my sister!” Dipper interjected, and Ford saw a shadow of…something cross the kid’s face. But he brushed it off, no time to dwell on that. The sooner they found the machine and the girl, the better.

“Right, of course, and your sister.”

Opening the door, Ford pulled his coat tighter around him and stepped out into the icy Oregon wind.

Everything was dark for a moment, then a flash of light burned into Mabel’s eyes. Concrete scraped her knees and before she could even tell what the heck was going on, a loud shrieking wailed just in time for her to scream and roll out of the way as a car skidded past her.

Eyes wide, Mabel just stared at the shops in front of her, but she wasn’t really taking any of it in. Her heart was racing, her knees throbbing, and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. But in the back of her mind something didn’t seem quite right. Maybe it was the storefronts that look a little dated, or maybe it was the fact that she was starting to shiver a little despite it being summer.

“Kid you okay?”

That voice, Mabel knew that voice… And if Grunkle Stan was here then everything had to be oka-

The thought died in her mind as she looked up and caught sight of the man in front of her. He wasn’t the old man she had gone fishing with, or who made her laugh almost as much as Dipper. No, he was young. His hair was brown, his clothes dirty – even moreso than they were before laundry day at the Shack – and there were tired bags under his eyes. But his eyes…despite the confusion and concern lining them, somehow she just knew they were her grunkle’s eyes.

A million questions started piling up in Mabel’s mind. Why was Stan so young? Why was she in the middle of the road in a strange town? Where was Dipper? Oh gosh…the fight. She had been so determined to save Waddles from Pacifica, and they had fought and - the time machine!

Mabel quickly looked around, eyes scanning desperately until they saw it, broken and scattered on the gravel road.

“No!” Scrambling forward, Mabel gently picked up each piece of the busted device. “No, no, no…” This was beyond a simple fix, this was…it was unfixable. Her hands started shaking, and she lowered the machine parts carefully to the ground, scared of inflicting anymore damage on it. But that didn’t stop the tightening of her chest, or the quickening of her breath as anxiety overwhelmed her.

“Hey, kid…”

A hand hesitantly touched her shoulder and Mabel didn’t even care that it wasn’t the Stan she knew. She flung her arms around him and clung tight to him, a sob escaping her mouth, which then turned into a blubber of breathless gasps as tears slid down her face.

“Uh…it’s…it’s okay kiddo…”

A hand patted her back, and Mabel buried her face Stan’s jacket, not even caring that it smelled worse than Dipper after a week of avoiding a shower.

Stan had no clue what he was doing. One minute, he had been driving, and the next thing he knew, a kid had just appeared out of nowhere right in the middle of the road. Thankfully he had managed to avoid hitting the girl, but now she was clinging to him like he wasn’t a grifter trying to make ends meat by whatever means possible. But the kid was clearly going through something and he knew all too well what it was like to feel alone and scared, so he let her cry, not quite sure what to do but allowing her to hug him as long as she needed.

Minutes passed and the kid’s sobs died down and her grip on his jacket eased until she was simply resting her head on his chest, as if he was someone she trusted despite being an absolute stranger. Man, who had hurt this kid?

“Uh…you doing okay now?”

A quiet sniffle, then she nodded against his chest.

“So uh…what’s your name kiddo?” There were other questions he could ask for sure, but he figured starting with the basics was the best route. And names were good. He wasn’t just gonna keep calling her kid – even if she was still a child, one far too young to be on her own.

“M-Mabel.”

“That’s a nice name…I’m Stan.” Ironically, he actually was actually Stan in this town. He had figured he was far enough away from New Jersey that he could actually go by his real name – that and trying to remember fake names got kind of tiring after a while. Especially when he had to keep changing it every few months.

Mabel opened her mouth but closed it again, simply resting her head on his chest again. Geeze, and he thought that incident with the monkeys in Columbia was strange. This was just…Stan shook his head, trying not to think about it too much. If the kid was in trouble, he’d do what he could to help her.

“So, where you from?”

Once again, she opened her mouth, only to close it, biting her lip. “California…where…what town is this?”

Crap, that wasn’t good. How in the world had she gotten to an entirely different state? “This is Dead End Flats, in New Mexico. You on vacation with your family or something?”

At that, Mabel straightened up a little and looked around, as if searching for something. “I…I was visiting my great- uh…family with my brother but…” She shut her mouth again, looking around again before her shoulders dropped. “I don’t see him anywhere…”

“Hey, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, we’ll find him. What’s his name?” Stan didn’t know for sure if he would be able to find another kid – maybe at the police station. Just that thought sent an unpleasant shudder down his spine, but he tried to push that away. He didn’t want to quash any hope Mabel might have and if he had to go to the police to help her? So be it.

“Dipper…”

Well that was the strangest name Stan had ever heard…

“…he looks kind of like me, s-same hair, and e-eyes. We’re twins…”

Twins…a weight grew in Stan’s chest at the mere mention of the word. For a moment he was back in New Jersey, looking up at a window whose curtains had been drawn. No one should lose their twin… “You want to look for him? I uh…I can help you search for a little while at least.” Stan tried not to think about the meeting he had later that evening, one he had been trying to avoid. Mainly because he didn’t have the money he owed. Maybe he could manage to buy himself a few more days until he could either find some or, preferably, leave the town and never come back.

Mabel nodded, but then she looked at the concrete again, at the…thing that had sent her crying a few moments ago. She scooped it up and looked at Stan. “Can I put this in your car f-for safe keeping?”

Stan glanced at what appeared to be a broken tape measure. Why the heck that needed safe keeping, he didn’t know, but he nodded. “Sure thing kiddo.” Getting to his feet, he walked over and opened the door, watching as she placed it on the floor, hidden a bit by some of his…belongings, though most of it was just trash. After locking the door, he froze as a hand grabbed his.

Looking down at Mabel, he tried for a smile, which she returned. Then he let her lead him down the sidewalk, despite the worry growing in his gut. He didn’t have time for this…and he really didn’t want any of Rico’s gang to see him walking with a little kid. There was no telling what they might do. And yet, he knew he couldn’t just leave her, not when she was alone and scared. Besides, helping her out wouldn’t take too long and soon she’d be back with her brother and family, right?

#timestuck au #gravity falls #timetrapped au #dipper pines #mabel pines #stan pines #ford pines #pines family #stanford pines #stanley pines #paranoid ford #mullet stan #gravity falls fanfiction #timestuck #timetrapped #my fics #my writing #well posting this took like an hour...honestly whyyyyy *flops*

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kaylewiswrites · 5 years

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My Works in Progress

I have too many, but this is just a quick update on my various works so you can see what you might be interested in, and I can remember all of them. Let me know if you want to join any of the tag lists!

Walk

My main WIP and what you’ll see most often, Walk is an action/adventure trilogy in a near dystopian future transformed by the accidental release of a ‘virus’ that grants superhuman abilities to certain members of the population. While hundreds are captured and contained, some manage to escape into the forest, where a chance encounter shows that the hate and mistreatment of the infected aren’t based in fear, but greed. A band of unlikely heroes must overcome their different backgrounds, world views, and senses of morality to work together and stop the mistreatment of those like them.

Check it out if you’re into... Found family! Super powers! Dismantling systematic oppression! Strong female characters that have personalities! Morally gray characters!

WIP Page | Excerpt | Tag List: @aruzeus @madammuffins

Cold Bones Dance

Started as a Nano Project, now my favorite distraction. A magical realism novel where unsatisfied skeletons rise from the dead to complete their unfulfilled purpose-if the moth memory keepers can help them figure out what it is. Being a skeleton is never easy in the best of times, but when this one rises, the moths can’t even figure out his name, let alone his story. Pared with the prickliest moth of them all, the Skeleton must find a way to convince a grieving witch to use her powers to help him. Making his journey harder? A Holly Tree (Whose Name Is Death) won’t stop trying to tempt him back underground, and a stray dog who really, really wants to chew on his leg.

Check it out if you’re into... Hopeful takes on grief! Slightly dark comedy! Slice of Life world building! Subtle magic! The calm use of passive voice! Small bay-side towns!

I....have yet to make a WIP Page for this. But here’s the Tag, where there are some summaries and excerpts for it | Tag list: @ren-c-leyn

Knifepoint

I’m really not good at naming my action/adventures, am I? In this created world, three countries are constantly on the brink of war. While in a time of peace, everyone knows its only a matter of time before one country attacks. When three unintentional representatives from these countries collide (quite literally) and discover a plot to sow conflict and restart the centuries old war, the spy, the healer, and the blacksmith have to overcome their differences, prejudices, and language barriers to do what they know is right.

Check it out if you’re into...Created countries that don’t count as fantasy because there’s no magic! Political intrigue! Linguistics! Enemies to found family to lovers! Romantic tension between two women sword fighting!

WIP Page | Excerpt

The Forgotten Grave Society

In a small town in a small state, on the first day of summer vacation, three girls find themselves in a graveyard. After discovering they all share the same pull towards the quite, peaceful place, they agree to meet there every day, to remember the long forgotten graves and learn about one another. But it turns out the graveyard holds a secret. Spend too much time with the dead, and you might just start to see them. An artist, an athlete, and a scientist must use their skills to save the ghosts-and themselves.

Check it out if you’re into...Young girls with a variety of skills working together! Various theories of the afterlife! Lighthearted conversations about dead people! Some pleasantly creepy moments! Talks about the difficulty of navigating middle school! Ghosts!

WIP Page | Excerpt | If you had asked to be tagged in this in the past, I’m sorry! I lost that tag list with my last notebook, let me know if you want back on.

The House with Too Many Doors

Magic can only be found when someone makes such an impossible series of mistakes that it’s discovery become inevitable. Such is the luck of Avi, who gets lost in a forest and stumbles on a strange house: A tall skinny barn with 3 doors on each side. Avi soon learns from it’s inhabitant that each door opens up a completely different house, and one of them could release a danger that has been locked away for years.

Check it out if you like...Middle grade magic! Creative use of architecture! Emotional health strategies! Gender neutral characters! Monster fighting!

This one also lacks a WIP page. We’re getting there. In the meantime, have the tag. | Let me know if you want to join the tag list!

God on a Blank Page

Welcome to the distant future, where all information is taught through recorded lectures on headphones, writing is dead, and cathedrals were emptied to make room for the gods of the dominant polytheistic religion. When the sullen daydreamer is forced to go to temple with her family, she spends her time in the abandoned alcove of the blank-faced god, the god of nothing anyone can figure out. She assumes she’s safe there, to pursue her ‘what-ifs’ in peace, but when the god starts talking with her, she finds she has work to do.

Check it out if you like...Southern Gothic Futurism! The rediscovery of creativity! Learning to think from other people’s points of view! Unreliable narrators! Cryptic whisper gods!

What’s that? Another missing WIP page? I’ll get right on it, here’s the tag. | Be the first on the tag list, when a special prize! (the prize is a huge thank you in all caps)

I’m always open to questions, comments, or criticism, so stop by my ask page if you’d like. If you also want to check out the characters of (some) of these WIPs, my character page is here.

#my writing #my wips #writing #writeblr #writing community #walk #knifepoint #tgwnf #tfgs #doors #cold bones dance #I really need to update my WIP pages I didn't realize I was missing so many

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im-tops-bottom · 5 years

Text

Dear Anonniiee~....

"Clint call the doctor's pronto. Natasha get...."

Everything became a blur for everyone since then. People were on autopilot trying to bring back Tony. He was rushed to the medical suite and almost died on the table a couple of times. There were times everywhere after managing to get Tony back to an alright stable condition.

What felt like an hour or so later everyone was gathered around as the doctor took a look at the notes.

"he is alright and the baby is now in a somewhat stable condition"

Steve was the first to speak up as everyone was stunned into silence trying to process what they just heard.

"I'm sorry what did you say? That can't be right"

"I'm sorry I thought you all knew"

Natasha stepped up looking at the doctor like she was going to interrogate him.

"he has been coming to me for a couple of months now. He said that he had already told everyone but wanted to keep it as a surprise for bu- what's going on?"

"what do you mean what's going on? We should be asking you that. I know you were about to say bucky. What has he got to do with any of this?"

"fine let's share stories. When Tony and Bucky first met they instantly connected. Next thing you know Bucky helps Tony through his heat. A day later a baby is rapidly growing in his tummy."

"what do you mean rapidly growing?"

"well a mix between Starks extremis and Barnes' super serum this baby Is slightly growing faster than a normal baby. Tony is looking at 3 more months until Tony gives birth rather than 6 months"

Steve feels like his gonna be sick. No one told him anything. If he had known then maybe none of this would have happened.

"Steve are you okay?"

Steve looks worryingly at the doctor before sighing. It's better that everyone heard what happened now then find out in the future.

"over 2 months ago when we had that fight in the airport, that wasn't the only time we fought."

"oh god I remember that. I helped Wanda send cars on top of him. Oh god the stress he went through between us and the acc- wait what do you mean wasn't the only time?"

"zemo showed Tony what really happened to his parents"

"Jesus Steve when we found out I told you to tell him."

"I couldn't do it Nat. I wanted to keep him happy and protected."

"just because you were in love with the man doesn't mean you should lie or keep secrets"

"woah woah woah in love? Parents? What the hell is going on?"

"Tony found out that Bucky killed his parents and that I kept him from him. He didn't take it to well and sent me flying to the ground. Next thing you it's a 2 v 1 all guns blazing. Wait! Doc he took so many punches to the stomach and a shield to tje chest. Not to mention flying in that suit! The baby couldn't have survived that"

"we thought so too. If anyone payed close attention to Tony's stomach then you would have seen a glow on his stomach. The baby healed itself using extremis"

"oh cool kinda like the doc in Doctor who with all that nano energy mumbo jumbo what was is called again?"

"doctor what now?"

"oh my god once Tony has healed and we all have a civilly stern talk with one Anthony stark about how we are going to bundle him up and lock him awa- hold up now. Woah woah woah back the frick frack paddy wack up TONY'S AN OMEGA!?!"

Everyone facepalmed at the sudden realization too busy worrying about Tony and the baby that it suddenly crossed their mimds thanks to the class clown Clint.

"yeah I thought you all knew. I mean Bucky did"

"ahhh soul mates. Never question a bond when it's a soulmates bond. They know everything about each other after meeting for just a split second. I love watching shows and movies based around those types of plots."

"okay so tony is actually an omega and not a beta. The only omega on a team filled with just alphas. I'm guessing he had suppressants. Has a secret thing with Bucky. Has his own secret thing which has cost him his life. Almost lo-"

"Jesus what is with us cutting off our sentences when we realize something. What's the matter?"

"from what pepper has been telling me, Tony has been under alot of stress lately. He hasn't been eating and sleeping well. I'm guessing it was taking a toll on the baby?"

"yes that is correct"

"great then I as the greatest man to ever live the oh so great cl- ow!"

"just get on with it"

"Clint Barton! Has decided we bring back the helper of this mess. I'm sure he can leave or bring his pet goat I don't mind but the thing hates me as an FYI. Ok ok put your hands down I don't need a group slapping session thanks. Anyway, we sit Tony down and we have a group meeting followed by a family bonding time. Let's clear the air, especially between Tony and Bucky because there is going to be alot of tension."

"what do you mean oh wise clint Barton?"

"it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Dude they must have bonded their first night together completely. Like bite and everything. It must have been hard for Tony with all his omega and baby hormones and then the stress of us and the accords to finding out information he should have known in the first place"

"not to mention the asshole who caused all of this not only fought him and almost killed him but also broke the bond and left him in this mess a couple of months later without so much as a call or letter"

"Bucky when did you get here? How much did you hear?"

"heard all of it Stevie. Got here the moment something happened. Friday called Shuri when I was down in the gym. Stephen was there to help out with a project she was working on so he portaled me right here. How's he doing doc?"

"he's in a stable condition now. How about everyone get settled down, have a bite to eat...."

"how about goat curry? Ow! Would you guys stop it"

"no I think not"

After everyone settles down they leave the medical suite and go watch a movie to calm themselves down.

It's not until the next day when everyone woke up to a shocked voice.

"what are all of you doing in my room?"

Everyone rushes up and hugs Tony giving him a good old group hug.

"okay have I gone through a time machine? Or did I get sent to a different reality? Friday?"

"I'm here boss. No you are still in the same timeline. This is what people call a group hug"

"better watch that sass before I remove it in your next upgrade and replace it with a water pistol"

"that will so much better because I can't sass fire off of you when you experiment"

"my own baby is talking back to me. I am shocked"

"I learned from the best boss"

"damn straight you have now can some one please tell me whats going on he-oomph"

Everyone stares in shock as a teary eyed Clint kisses the life out of Tony and while Tony is in shock Clint bites Tony's bond mark causing the smaller man to Yelp.

"wow I'm the youngest here, completely pregnant and this is how I'm treated"

Tony gets another shock as a growl comes out of Clint's mouth before he is slammed onto the bed. He gets a cry baby sitting on his lap leaving kisses all over his face.

"I'm sorry for leaving you, for going against you, for not listening to you, for demanding to much, for bullying you, for putting huge amounts of stress on you, for beig so angry at you when I was actually angry at the government, for hurting you, for saying nasty shit and for possibly being the worst best friend anyone could ever have. Please please please forgive me. I promise I won't bring harm to you ever again. if you can't trust me now then at least, actually it would be better if you don't trust me now. I just bit your bond mark and kissed you without permission"

"you think you moron?"

"well obviously I wasn't thinking. That's how we became best friends right? Because we don't think? Speaking of thinking"

Clint starts slapping Tony's thighs

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING PUTTING YOU AND YOUR BABY AT RISK YOU STUPID BRATTY PIECE OF SHIT! AS SOON AS WE SAY WHAT WE HAVE TO SAY THEN I AM ORDERING UP LARGE AND FORCE FEEDING YOU FOR THE LAST 3 MONTHS! Who's next!?!"

Natasha ripped a pouting Clint away before she ruffled Tony's hair and kissed his cheek smiling.

"I think Pepper would get angry if I marked you"

"2 fiery red heads filled with love for each other. Can only imagine what a fight between you two would look like"

"even though she is an omega she is a fiery hot headed one. Hmmmm I remember when I thought she was just a beta. Kinda reminds me of someone I know"

"okay I can explain"

"explain later for right now"

Sam comes jumping on Tony and sobs his heart out.

"im so sorry Tony. You know I didn't mean any of it. Neither did vision. It was just a poorly executed mess"

"you do realize I'm not the one you should be saying sorry to for that"

"I know. I apologized to vision and well you know how Rhodey gets"

"hey don't worry Sam. Don't give up. He'll come around. Rhodey has forgiven me and doesn't blame me for it. He at least talked to me. I don't know what's wrong with T'Challa"

"like I said Sam, he'll come around"

"I hope so. Just know that if you really truly forgive me then you would name your baby after me"

"wait how"

"don't worry about it. Any way come on Clint, Nat let's get our of here for this one"

Clint pouts and makes grabby hands for Tony as he gets dragged out by Nat.

Tonys heart stops as he sees one of the people he doesn't want to see. He stands up and his hand goes straight to his chest. Face hardens as he looks directly into the blondes eyes.

"please don't put your walls up. I promise I won't hurt you ever again"

"I don't trust you"

"then I'll take my time to earn your trust back and wait patiently. For now please just hear me out"

"now why would I do that Steve? Did you ever listen to me?"

"ouch okay yeah I deserve that. What I also should have deserved was you actually showing off your strength and kill me in siberia. That's the least I deserve for what I put you through"

"Steve look. What happened back there wasn't just your fault but all of ours. We butted heads instead of talking it out like a family"

"but your parents"

"I am extremely hurt because of that. I wouldn't have been that bad if you had told me in the first place. As you can see I wasn't angry at Bucky. I was angry at Hydra for turning him into their bitch, I was angry because instead of hearing it from someone I care alot about, I hear it from the monitor set up by a damn villain. I was angry because no one listened to me about what I can do if everyone signed. Even team iron Man spoke against me, then again at least they stood by my side"

"okay okay I deserve that too"

"damn right you do. Look I'm not in a place to send or receive forgiveness yet. Hell none of us do but that shouldn't stop any of from working tofuckengether and finding out where on God's green earth is the bloody hulk and Thor because then that airport battle would have been awesome!"

"that's not fair"

"why isn't it fair?"

"because then banner wouldn't want to participate and the hulk would have been on your side while Thor protects his omega from getting hurt thus realizing he will need to be on team iron Man because of the hulk. We would have been outnumbered. Not to mention my ex chose you over me"

"don't regret it"

"but I do"

"why?"

#part 1 #avengers ships everywhere

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