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gumnut-logic · 3 years

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Callisto (Voyage - Bit 3)

Prologue Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3

This has settled down to a once a week post at the moment. I am still writing, but I’ve been writing the Prologue because I realised that I hadn’t written enough backstory to support the main story. So expect 4000-odd words of Jeff landing on Mars in the near future.

In the meantime, here is a little terrible twos being good bros.

As always, many, many thanks to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 and @janetm74 for all their patient help. I’ve been a pain lately, so they have suffered greatly for my fic :D

I hope you enjoy this last bit of Part Two.

-o-o-o-

Gordon sat back and watched his father and Virgil leave the cockpit. John followed a moment later.

Gordon wasn’t hungry, not by a long shot. His stomach was still protesting the jump and he was quite happy staying where he was.

He wasn’t surprised that Scott, after reassuring himself that Alan was okay monitoring the course correction, disappeared after John. Gordon did not want to be in the room when that encounter happened. Not that he didn’t have his own beef with the astronaut over this. He couldn’t believe John would support their father going into space. John, of all people knew the health ramifications.

Speaking of which…

He unbuckled and pushed off his chair in the direction of his father’s chair. Formerly, his chair. He was of two minds regarding that fact, but considering he didn’t think Dad should even be in space, where he sat was of the least importance.

He hooked his foot around the base of the seat and pulled himself in beside his little brother.

Gordon’s eyes danced over the flight controls. “How’s it going?”

Alan glanced at him. “Computer is performing perfectly. We’ll stop to drop the buoy in about twenty-five minutes.” A raised eyebrow. “How’s the tummy?” And yes, there was a small smirk accompanying that.

“It’s fine.” As if to penalise him for lying to his little brother, his gut twisted.

Gordon let out a groan.

The smirk turned to a worried frown. “You sure you’re okay.”

He grunted at his brother. “I’ll live.” And he remembered that there were four more jumps there and likely five more on the way back. “Maybe.”

“Get Virg to drug you up. You’ll enjoy it more.”

‘Enjoy’ was rarely in the same sentence as ‘space’ in Gordon’s book. “Might do that.” Puking in zero-g was just messy and not to mention gross. “How come you aren’t feeling it?”

Alan shrugged. “Been playing with g-forces since I was a kid? This isn’t much different.”

Gordon grunted at him again.

They sat there together for a moment or two. There was something about hanging with his little brother that was different from hanging with his older brothers. More relaxed maybe, or just…different.

“Not often my ‘bird carries yours. This has to be only the second time.”

Gordon blinked. “Yeah? I think so. Not too many oceans in space.”

“Tell that to the Jupiter system.”

Space oceans were a thing. After the mad dash that was their trip to Europa, Gordon had made a point of reading up on all the extra-terrestrial oceans he could find.

Earth, of course, was the only body in the solar system with surface liquid water. There were buckets of ice on many of the other planets and moons, but none of that interested the aquanaut. He preferred his water well above zero degrees celsius.

Europa had been fascinating and he was still basking in the accolades from the scientific paper that he, Alan and his heroes, the Pendergasts, had jointly written. Readings from Four’s scanners had recorded everything and Earth’s scientific compliment were still going nuts years later. Tracy Industries had helped fund a proper scientific expedition to the moon.

Hmm, come to think of it, they should probably drop in and say hi on the way back. Would be interesting to catch up with Gwen and her team in person instead of over holovid.

Would be hilarious to knock on their door as a surprise. Hi, we were just in the area…

He grinned.

“What are you up to?” Alan was eyeing him suspiciously.

Gordon snorted. “Just thinking we should drop in on the Europa Extra-terrestrial Marine Expedition on the way back. I owe Gwen a jump-scare.”

His brother tilted his head, obviously calculating the possibility. “Could do. You should speak to Scott.”

That dragged him back to reality. “I guess it depends on Dad.”

Blue eyes darted in his direction. “Dad will be okay. You know that, don’t you?”

Gordon found he didn’t have the energy to get angry. “How can you know that?”

“I don’t.” Alan went quiet a moment. “But then how do you think I manage each time you go out on a mission?”

The aquanaut stared at him. “What?”

“Well, your health has never been and never will be one hundred percent, yet you still dart down to the bottom of the ocean, jump off high places and do things just like the rest of us. Do you think I don’t think of losing you all the time?”

Gordon froze a moment digesting that his little brother still worried about that… “That’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Dad…okay, I get your point. But I’m also worried about Scott.”

“What?” Alan stared at him.

“Can’t you see what this is doing to him?”

“Er, what?”

No, Alan hadn’t seen. “I have never seen Scott so terrified.”

“I repeat – what?”

“When Dad told us he was going. Scott just…” He swallowed. “Dad is hurting Scott and I, for one, am not going to stand for it. Virg isn’t either.”

Alan was staring at him. “You said Dad was cold and didn’t care. Abrupt, yes, that’s Dad, but I can’t believe he doesn’t care.” The astronaut shook his head.

“If he cared, he wouldn’t have come.”

“Gords-“

“Alan, trust me on this.”

His little brother stared at him again. “I trust you, Gordon, you know that. It’s a given. But I also trust Dad. He knows what he’s doing.”

Gordon pressed his lips together. “He doesn’t know everything and I really wish you guys would stop worshipping him as a god.”

“He’s not a god! He’s just…Dad.”

“Yeah, and that’s the problem.”

There was silence after that. Gordon not willing to berate Alan any further. It wasn’t Alan’s fault. He didn’t have the history with Dad Gordon did. He hadn’t had to fight to swim. Hadn’t seen Virgil struggle with his choices.

Hadn’t seen Scott give his everything to his father only to have it…ignored.

But no, that was history. Long ago. Before the Oort Cloud. Gordon had his issues regarding his father. He loved him, but he was a difficult man under all that passion. Being the son of a hero wasn’t everything it could be.

Scott worshipped the ground his father walked on. Gordon, not so much.

To see his father hurt Scott like that…Gordon’s blood just boiled.

“Is Scott okay?” Alan’s voice was smaller than usual.

“That’s just it, Allie. I don’t think so. You know how he gets. Like before the Oort Cloud. I, for one, don’t want him going there again.” ‘There’ being more a mental place than a physical.

Alan’s head dropped. “No.”

A voice rumbled behind them and both jumped. Michael was talking into comms, to Scott, something about the aft sensor array.

Crap. It was a sign of his distraction that he had forgotten the Mechanic was there. He glanced over, but the tattooed man showed no sign of even knowing they existed.

Gordon sighed.

A hand landed on his knee. “It’s going to be okay.” Blue eyes sought his. “It will be, Gords.”

He let out a breath, suddenly wishing he had Alan’s faith.

If anything happened to Dad…

“It. Is. Going. To. Be. Okay.” The hand on his leg squeezed tight.

But Gordon didn’t answer.

-o-o-o-

The drop of the communication buoy saw all of them back in the cockpit. John was the mastermind behind this little exercise and Virgil was, as usual, very proud of his space brother.

The design was ingenious, of course. John had taken a portion of the T-drive technology and applied it to communications. The same Tunnels created by the engine could be used to push what would otherwise be a simple comms signal through to the next buoy at a vastly accelerated rate. His brother had been working with Brains to realise this technology. Back in Earth orbit, a satellite connected the new network to the planetary network. On the way out, they would connect the Jupiter system. On the way back, they would connect Mars. Time delay communications would be a thing of the past.

Possibly as a tension reliever, John’s first signal went straight to Lady Penelope.

Gordon’s demeanour shifted immediately. His excited babbling did much to lighten the atmosphere in the cabin. The uninformed wouldn’t have been blamed for thinking he hadn’t spoken to her for years. Virgil knew for a fact the two of them had had a conversation shortly before they left.

The concept of ‘young love’ made him feel old.

And indicated just how tired he really was.

But sleep was something he couldn’t see happening very soon. Sure, he could try to take a nap en route. Hell, he had to. But his head was full of worry that likely wouldn’t let him rest.

Scott let Gordon babble for a full minute before cutting him off with the mission. Perhaps the commander saw how much the atmosphere needed to be lifted from the black depths they had fallen into.

Virgil hated it when his family argued. It didn’t happen often...okay, maybe they did quarrel every now and again - it came with the territory of working together. But nothing deep like this. Nothing that cut into the core of their very foundation. The surety that held them together.

Virgil sighed.

“Ready for jump.” Scott’s voice was all command and it forced Virgil to focus.

Pre-jump checklist as his brother called out to each of them.

“Airframe?”

“Craft secure. We are go.”

Blue eyes flickered to Michael. “Propulsion.”

“T-drive ready.”

“Helm.”

Alan’s back was tensed, his hand on the lever that would propel them further away from Earth. “Ready.”

The familiar countdown, such a part of their lives. Scott’s voice carried security...and Virgil’s faith.

Alan’s arm moved.

And the Excel jumped.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #Virgil Tracy #callisto

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violasbookblogg · 3 years

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THE FALLING INCIDENT A Loki Flash Fan Fiction

Written by Krystal Viola Smith

Loki was with his brother, Thor, returning to Earth city to find their father. Loki had ensured that their father was in a safe spot. When they returned to the elderly home, Thor was mad. He looked at Loki with anger as they saw construction crews cleaning up the destroyed elderly home.

“Well he was here safe and sound.” Loki said to Thor.

“Sure you did Loki.” Thor said. He pat his brother on the shoulder.

He was honest. He was safe and sound. Apparently humans have a fondness for destroying buildings and later rebuilding with higher and taller towers. When Loki becomes ruler of the universe he would definitely change more things about this planet and their customs.

“Now we have to go look for our father somewhere in New York City.” Thor was annoyed.

“Look he was right here. I left him right there.” Loki stated as he gestured the building that was demolished.

“I shouldn’t trust you with our father because now look what happened. He is missing in this big city.” Thor said as his temper was rising.

Suddenly both see an orange spherical surround Loki’s feet and Loki fell into the abyss. He sees his brother have an angry worried face as the hole closes. Loki looked around to see the emptiness that he was falling through. There was air movement around him as his hair whipped around. The rush of air was quite refreshing. He can smell lavender and pine mixed with a hint of sweet vanilla cookies that this planet’s inhabitants had made.

“Where the hell am I?” Loki asked for emptiness to hopefully respond.

The emptiness obviously didn’t reply back. It wasn't a sentient being with a mind or thought. As he was falling he decided to think. Loki hated thinking but what else was he to do in the meantime? Just count the minutes? No. He would rather not do that boring task.

“I never truly felt like I belonged to the family. Just always felt like an outsider. Sure I am loved but the only person who's loved me is dead. I always seem to annoy everyone but this chaos and mischief is all that I know.” Loki said into the emptiness.

“But there must be some good moments. I remember the times I’ve pranked Thor and the rest of the family.” Loki continued as he began to reminisce.

In the emptiness he saw his memories. The happier ones of the family together and being a family. However, the looming truth and reality destroyed the obvious facade that proved he was only an outsider. Just a kid that was adopted because of pity.

“I want to prove to the world that they shall not pity me. Rather that I should pity them once I take Asgard then the entire Nine Realms.” Loki promised into the emptiness.

Loki began to have a deep anger towards his brother. He remembered he would have to somehow distract Thor or get rid of Thor. Otherwise universe dominance wouldn’t work because his brother was the God of Thunder. Not only that but get rid of the Avengers as well. Especially the giant green one. He had a plan. He would just play along and then take advantage of working with his brother just like how he always did with him.

Thor’s plans were always strange and humiliating. Especially “get help”. It's where Loki would pretend to be injured or make himself appear injured then Thor would scream that his brother was injured then throw Loki at the enemies to distract and take them down. It was fun the first time but the continuous usage of “get help” got annoying. More humiliating as time went by with more and more usage of it. Maybe one of these days he should morph himself into an animal and just fly away.

Loki remembered the last few times he had morphed. One of the times was when he was a kid and turned into a snake. Ah yes, he bit Thor and almost killed him with the venom he produced. Loki chuckled at that memory. The more recent time was to distract this one horse from building something important. It was one of his father’s commands at the time to distract so Loki had done that. He had turned himself into a mare and did go through a pregnancy as a mare version of himself. His son was the infamous eight legged horse named Sleipnir. Once he would stop being in this space he had to go check in on his son.

“I wonder how long I am going to be falling?” Loki thought.

He closed his eyes and counted the minutes. A full half hour was completed when he saw the portal. He fell through onto the hardwood floor. It really had hurt and he flipped his head forward.

“I HAVE BEEN FALLING FOR THIRTY MINUTES!” Loki shouted.

#flash fanfiction #loki #falling #thor #mythology #marvel #disney #i was bored #so sorry #not really sorry #loki falling #LOL

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green-blooded · 4 years

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So, I want to talk about Bread and Circuses. Or, I want to talk about Spock and McCoy in Bread and Circuses... plus the rest of the first half of the second season, because this episode isn’t actually good aside from the Spock and McCoy moments.

We start with this:

SPOCK: Fascinating. This atmosphere is remarkably similar to your twentieth century. Moderately industrialized pollution containing substantial amounts of carbon monoxide and partially consumed hydrocarbons. MCCOY: The word was smog. SPOCK: Yes, I believe that was the term. I had no idea you were that much of a historian, Doctor. MCCOY: I am not, Mister Spock. I was simply trying to stop you from giving us a whole lecture on the subject. Jim, is there anything at all we know about this planet?

(This post got long--nearly 4000 words???--so here’s a cut to save your dashboard!)

Which is kind of an odd argument for them? McCoy gets on Spock for a lot of things, but not usually for talking too much. In fact, it’s usually the reverse. In Trouble with Tribbles (the previous episode by production order), they have this exchange:

MCCOY: Spock, I don't know too much about these little tribbles yet, but there's one thing that I have discovered. SPOCK: What is that, Doctor? MCCOY: I like them better than I like you. SPOCK: Doctor? MCCOY: Yes? SPOCK: They do have one redeeming characteristic. MCCOY: What's that? SPOCK: They do not talk too much. If you'll excuse me, sir.

Far be it from me to accuse Star Trek of having continuity, but don’t these arguments seem related? In fact, both of these episodes have had particularly heated arguments between Spock and McCoy for no apparent reason in the plot. There are also a few heated exchanges in The Deadly Years (about Spock’s health, and then Kirk’s dementia).

Put a pin in this. Let’s return to Bread and Circuses.

MCCOY: Odd that these people should worship the sun. SPOCK: Why, Doctor? MCCOY: Because, my dear Mister Spock, it is illogical. Rome had no sun worshipers. Why should they parallel Rome in every way except one?

Let’s just ignore the fact that yes Rome did have sun worshipers and that there have been a hell of a lot more than one discrepancy, because if we talk about inaccuracies we’ll be here all day. The point is, they’re both postulating about this odd ‘parallel’ Earth, but McCoy’s interjection seems to annoy Spock for some reason... To the point that he brings it up again later, but in the meantime, they also have this exchange:

SPOCK: Even more fascinating. Slavery evolving into an institution with guaranteed medical payments, old-age pensions. MCCOY: Quite logical, I'd say, Mister Spock. Just as it's logical that twentieth-century Rome would use television to show its gladiator contests or name a new car the Jupiter Eight. SPOCK: Doctor, if I were able to show emotion, your new infatuation with that term would begin to annoy me. MCCOY: What term? Logic? Medical men are trained in logic, Mister Spock. SPOCK: Really, Doctor, I had no idea they were trained. Watching you, I assumed it was trial and error.

Hey guys, remember an episode called Amok Time (only 9 episodes earlier in production order instead of a whole season apart), where McCoy said this:

MCCOY: My orders were to give you a thorough physical. In case you hadn't noticed, I have to answer to the same commanding officer that you do. Come on, Spock. Yield to the logic of the situation.

And it, y'know, worked to convince Spock to listen to him that time. BUT let's also look at I, Mudd where they have one of those curiously heated arguments again:

MCCOY: All right. There's something wrong about a man who never smiles, whose conversation never varies from the routine of the job, and who won't talk about his background. SPOCK: I see. MCCOY: Spock, I mean that it's odd for a non-Vulcan. The ears make all the difference. SPOCK: I find your argument strewn with gaping defects in logic. MCCOY: Maybe, but you can't evaluate a man by logic alone. Besides, he has avoided two appointments that I've made for his physical exam without reason. SPOCK: That's not at all surprising, Doctor. He's probably terrified of your beads and rattles.

(Notice, McCoy realizes he’s offended Spock and immediately tries to fix it, but Spock remains annoyed with him.)

A couple of things here. First, like in Trouble with Tribbles (the next episode), Spock seems actually offended by McCoy. This was almost entirely absent from the first season, and not particularly prevalent in the first few episodes of the second season. There was plenty of banter and teasing before, but Spock seems more sensitive to it in this middle section of the second season. Then, again, McCoy brings up logic. McCoy argues that logic can't be the only means to evaluate a person. Then, Spock insults McCoy's medical skills. AGAIN, this is a newer development that makes it into almost every episode in the middle of the second season, including I, Mudd, Trouble with Tribbles, and Bread and Circuses. All back-to-back episodes in production order!

So we have some things repeating in their arguments over multiple episodes. McCoy's interpretation of logic, Spock being offended by McCoy's teasing/insults, and Spock insulting McCoy's skill as a doctor. PUT A PIN IN IT. Returning to Bread and Circuses again.

MERIK: There's been no war here for over four hundred years, Jim. Could, let's say, your land of that same era make that same boast? I think you can see why they don't want to have their stability contaminated by dangerous ideas of other ways and other places. SPOCK: Interesting, and given a conservative empire, quite understandable. MCCOY: Are you out of your head? SPOCK: I said I understood it, Doctor. I find the checks and balances of this civilization quite illuminating. MCCOY: Next he'll be telling us he prefers it over Earth history. SPOCK: They do seem to have escaped the carnage of your first three world wars, Doctor. MCCOY: They have slavery, gladiatorial games, despotism. SPOCK: Situations quite familiar to the six million who died in your first world war, the eleven million who died in your second, the thirty seven million who died in your third. Shall I go on?

I think this is one of the better exchanges that speak to the themes of this episode, which they should’ve elaborated on but instead went the Jesus Saves route... Whatever. The important thing is that this is another example of their philosophical differences AND very similar to an argument they had in The Apple a few episodes ago.

SPOCK: In my view, a splendid example of reciprocity. MCCOY: It would take a computerized Vulcan mind such as yours to make that kind of a statement. SPOCK: Doctor, you insist on applying human standards to non-human cultures. I remind you that humans are only a tiny minority in this galaxy. MCCOY: There are certain absolutes, Mister Spock, and one of them is the right of humanoids to a free and unchained environment, the right to have conditions which permit growth. SPOCK: Another is their right to choose a system which seems to work for them. MCCOY: Jim, you're not just going to stand by and be blinded to what's going on here. These are humanoids, intelligent. They need to advance and grow. Don't you understand what my readings indicate? There's been no progress here in at least ten thousand years. This isn't life. It's stagnation. SPOCK: Doctor, these people are healthy and they are happy. What ever you choose to call it, this system works, despite your emotional reaction to it. MCCOY: It might work for you, Mister Spock, but it doesn't work for me. Humanoids living so they can service a hunk of tin.

It’s super interesting to me that Spock is using relativistic contract theory to judge these cultures while McCoy is just a straight up anarchist, let’s be real. He hates hierarchical structures and authority figures, and believes that they go against human nature. Which you might say is weird for a Starfleet officer, but he also yells at people above his rank constantly and gets really upset in episodes like The Doomsday Machine when Spock refuses to ignore rank. He’s in Starfleet because he wants to help people, but I can’t imagine him staying if his captain weren’t someone he totally trusts. I mean, you could forget that McCoy has any rank at all with the way he carries himself. Meanwhile, Spock is Very, Very strict in his understanding of hierarchy and rank.

This is one of those deep divisions between the two of them. Put a pin in it. Let’s move on to the gladiator fight.

SPOCK: Need any help, Doctor? MCCOY: Whatever gave you that idea? ACHILLES: Fight, you pointed-ear freak! MCCOY: You tell him, buster. Of all the completely ridiculous, illogical questions I ever heard in my life!

The fact that McCoy is not a fighter is really brought out in this episode, and I have a lot to say about it in another post. The main thing here is McCoy bringing up logic again and agreeing with an argument that is, in my opinon, a step beyond something that McCoy would actually say. He makes fun of the ears, but freak is a little far, I think.

And all of this leads to the Big Scene in the prison, which I will break into parts. Part #1:

MCCOY: Angry, Mister Spock, or frustrated, perhaps? SPOCK: Such emotions are foreign to me, Doctor. I'm merely testing the strength of the door. MCCOY: For the fifteenth time...

McCoy is lightly teasing Spock for being more emotional than he lets on, while Spock denies having any emotion at all... this is a pretty typical part of the exchange. What really makes it work is Deforest Kelly's delivery. He says these lines with a degree of affection. He's not yelling, and he's not even using the tone he usually has when teasing Spock. In this moment, you can see that McCoy points out Spock's incongruous moments of emotion because he likes that about him. While it sometimes comes across as a 'gotcha' moment (like at the end of The Galileo Seven), the sheer number of times McCoy mentions Spock's emotions shows more than just a passing amount of interest in them.

Then, McCoy continues:

MCCOY: Spock, I know we've had our disagreements. Maybe they're jokes. I don't know. As Jim says, we're not often sure ourselves sometimes, but what I'm trying to say is-- SPOCK: Doctor, I am seeking a means of escape. Will you please be brief? MCCOY: Well, what I'm trying to say is you saved my life in the arena. SPOCK: Yes, that's quite true. MCCOY: I'm trying to thank you, you pointed-eared hobgoblin!

Before I talk about this, I need to take a moment. I think that McCoy often gets painted at someone with his heart on his sleeve, who feels a lot and expresses all of his feelings. And it's just not true! He's very expressive when it comes to some things, sure. He can yell all day about how much he cares about people in general, but when it comes to expressing how much he cares about an individual? It's pretty damn rare. Look at his words AND his body language in Balance of Terror when he has a vulnerable moment with Kirk.

KIRK: I look around that Bridge, and I see the men waiting for me to make the next move. And Bones, what if I'm wrong? MCCOY: Captain, I-- KIRK: No, I don't really expect an answer. MCCOY: But I've got one. Something I seldom say to a customer, Jim. In this galaxy, there's a mathematical probability of three million Earth-type planets. And in all of the universe, three million million galaxies like this. And in all of that, and perhaps more, only one of each of us. Don't destroy the one named Kirk.

McCoy himself says here that he doesn't usually say this kind of thing, and if you look at the series, that bears out. He does NOT find it easy to tell people he cares about them, and when he does, he does it in this abstract way, barely able to make any eye contact. This is AGAIN why the conflict between Spock and McCoy is NOT logic vs. emotion. McCoy is not fully emotional, and he doesn't find emotion easy to express. I would argue that he has almost as much difficulty expressing his feelings for another person as Spock does. I would also argue that McCoy does not LIKE this about himself, and that is part of why it frustrates him so much when he sees it in Spock.

So, when he tries to be vulnerable and thank Spock, first of all, he doesn't just say "Hey, thanks for saving me in the arena." He starts with a lot of waffle, and when Spock interrupts him and insists that he keep it short (again, callback to the arguments in this episode and Trouble with Tribbles about which one of them talks too much), McCoy tries to simply thank him, but gets upset when Spock is still impassive and reverts to his usual way of talking to Spock. One remark from Spock, and McCoy loses his ability to be vulnerable and resorts to a sharp tone and insults. Leading into part three of this conversation:

SPOCK: Oh, yes. You humans have that emotional need to express gratitude. You're welcome, I believe, is the correct response. However, Doctor, you must remember I am entirely motivated by logic. The loss of our ship's surgeon, whatever I think of his skill, would mean a reduction in the efficiency of the Enterprise and therefore-- MCCOY: Do you know why you're not afraid to die, Spock? You're more afraid of living. Each day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip and let your human half peek out. That's it, isn't it? Insecurity. Why, you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine, warm, decent feeling. SPOCK: Really, Doctor? MCCOY: I know. I'm worried about Jim, too.

The last bit is powerful, and I think generally something people remember more than the rest of the conversation, but I really need to focus on that first exchange first, because there is a LOT going on, and I've been pinning things through this whole overly long post for this moment.

PIN 1: Their arguments have become more heated in the middle portion of season 2.

This is a very clear example of that. McCoy doesn't drop the issue after the insult and Spock insists he wouldn't have saved McCoy if he weren't logically useful to the ship. Ouch.

PIN 2: The repetition in these heated arguments. McCoy's view of logic, Spock getting offended, Spock insulting McCoy's skill as a doctor.

What Spock says here brings up all three of those issues. Spock has been frustrated by McCoy bringing up logic throughout this episode, and now he's shooting back at him with a logical view of why he saved McCoy's life--while still maintaining that he doesn't think McCoy is a good doctor. McCoy's been using logic against him, and now Spock is returning the favor. Spock understands Human interaction better than this! Something as simple as a "thank you" and "your welcome" is everyday for him, not only on the Enterprise but with one of the people who RAISED him. He is exaggerating his own non-Human qualities throughout this conversation to a truly absurd extent, because McCoy has repeatedly offended him for several episodes. However, McCoy seems unaware that his usual teasing has actually gotten under Spock's skin, because he has been surprised, again and again (especially in I, Mudd where he chases after Spock to apologize to him) when Spock actually acts hurt by him.

And then there's McCoy's response.

It's not "damn your Vulcan logic" or ending the conversation. He grabs Spock and forces him to look at him--which Spock has been avoiding throughout the conversation--and tells Spock that he's so afraid to be human that he doesn't fear death, because that would put an end to the fear that his Human side would show.

IF WE ARE ONLY LOOKING AT THIS ONE EPISODE, this doesn't make sense. This didn't build from the conversations in Bread and Circuses, which is why I keep bringing up several different episodes and why I'm insisting on production order.

PIN 3: These two have deep, deep philosophical differences that they are constantly discussing.

As I said in another post, Spock and McCoy have a different standard for morality which causes the two of them to butt heads a whole lot. In the first season, it was pretty much the same argument over and over again (should we risk a larger number of people to save a smaller number of people), but it's been evolving in this season to the discussion of freedom and cultural differences and more.

If these two men did not have any respect for one another, I don't think these arguments would continue. Yes, they work together, but they don't actually need to interact as much as they do, and they are VERY often seeing walking into a scene on the bridge together or walking down a corridor together, etc. It's not just missions. They choose to spend time together.

So, when Spock says he only saved McCoy because he's useful as the ship's surgeon, McCoy doesn't respond to THAT, because 1) he knows he's a good doctor and never seems fazed by Spock insulting him about that and 2) he knows Spock is not being honest with him here.

This is one of the reasons why I think McCoy gets frustrated with Spock because they have a similar difficulty showing how much they care about other people, and they have an especially difficult time showing affection toward one another.

While the ending of Operation: Annihilate! where McCoy tells Kirk not to tell Spock he called him the best first officer in the fleet is memorable, it's hardly the most vulnerable moment for McCoy in that episode. No, it's when he thinks he's blinded Spock because he didn't consider using the non-visible parts of the light spectrum to kill the parasitic aliens. McCoy can't even say for himself the deep guilt he's feeling about harming Spock--he never says that he's blaming himself. It's Kirk who tells him he's not at fault, and McCoy can't even bring himself to respond. If you look at those last lines about Spock being the best first officer in the fleet in context of how devastated McCoy was when he thought he'd blinded Spock permanently, it definitely hits different, right?

And then there are the times in the first season when Spock believes McCoy is badly hurt or dead. In Miri, Shore Leave, and City on the Edge of Forever, Spock has a strong reaction to seeing McCoy injured, but he does not verbalize this obvious emotional reaction at any time.

They don't know how to say that they care about each other, because that's something they both struggle with in general. They also both struggle with being emotionally vulnerable and allowing other people to know them on a deeper level. Spock uses his Vulcan otherness to keep people at a distance, while McCoy uses a the charm offensive of his "bedside manner" as his defense system.

So, McCoy says this thing about Spock not being afraid to die because he's so terrified of his Human side coming out IN DIRECT RESPONSE to Spock being unable to even look at him when McCoy is not only trying to thank him for saving his life but ALSO putting it into the context of how difficult their friendship is and how rarely they show any straight-forward affection for each other. And the most telling thing is, McCoy didn't seem to know for sure that he was right until he sees Spock’s reaction. Look at his expression when Spock turns away from him.

And look at his intensity when he says that Spock wouldn't know what to do with a "genuine warm, decent feeling."

When Spock turns to him and says "Really, Doctor?"

THAT is when McCoy is the one who breaks eye contact and changes the subject to someone that they both feel affection for, but who isn't in the room to hear it. I understand that there are other readings of this moment, and that's fine, but... I don't think this has to do with Kirk specifically. For one thing, it never comes up in the episode when they are reunited with Kirk, and for another Kirk is in the least danger out of the three of them. Instead, this moment is about how both of them struggle so deeply with showing affection when someone's right there in front of them.

By the end of the episode, we can see the two of them spending time together again, apparently by choice, and seeming very comfortable with each other... and the next episode is Journey to Babel, in which they are very friendly again with The Immunity Syndrome only four episodes after that, and the episodes in between showing them with much less contentious banter again.

Dare I say it, but I think this is a legitimate arc! And it's a shame that most people see the episodes in broadcast order, because it makes their relationship much more incoherent and makes this little escalation of frustration with each other more random and may make it seem like they genuinely dislike each other.

Anyway... this was. Not supposed to be such a long post, but I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about these two, and I can't help myself sometimes.

#spones #long post is long #meta #spock #leonard mccoy #star trek #please read this i spent so long writing it that it got dark outside

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littlesliceofmarvel · 4 years

Text

Manipulating a God | chpt. five

Synopsis: Trying to break the information out of Loki during the attack of 2012 wasn’t exactly the easiest task, but it was a challenge you were willing to take head on. So, what happened when a master manipulator tried to get information from the God of Mischief?

Series warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence, blood, and gore

Pairings: Stark!Reader x Loki

A/N: I am so happy to be back writing on here. I apologize for the unannounced hiatus, I was dealing with personal issues and couldn’t find the motivation to write, but I am back and stronger than ever! I hope everyone enjoyed the holidays and may all of your 2020 wishes come true! Much love. xoxox

PS. There is a major storyline/timeline change here but don’t worry, it’ll match up with the movie timeline soon enough!

I know this chapter is shorter, but the next one will be a lot of fun!

For the millionth time that morning, Fury repeated the same question, “What did Loki say again? Give me the quote.”

Groaning and throwing your head back (also for the millionth time) you replied the same way you had all morning, “He said ‘the power I could find here on Earth is beyond anything your human brain can comprehend.’ Word for word - ish.”

Fury placed the pencil under his chin as if he were contemplating the meaning of life and all existence, looking down at the notepad in front of him which only had that one exact quote written, no other details or clues or even doodles scribbled anywhere else on the small lined paper. For about half an hour, the two of you had been sitting here discussing what the God of Mischief had said, but nowhere nearer to deciphering anything. Thor, who was currently your best hope in this grand old mystery, was off paying his dear brother a visit in the meantime but hadn’t actually spoken to you all day so he was of no help thus far.

In the half an hour you had been meeting with Fury, you had downed about eight coffees and your mind was having trouble staying focused on just the one quote, the meaning of it practically lost to you with the amount of caffeine flowing through your bloodstream. Your hands slightly shaking, eyes feeling fuzzy, you tried your best to keep focused and find any ideas flowing around your imaginative mind that could help out. But, in all honesty, you were blank.

Of course, you barely had any knowledge of ‘Outer Space’ in the first place, having only recently come in contact with your first-ever ‘aliens’ this week - and they were both nothing like you had expected from reading sci-fi and watching Star Trek. And that right there was the extent of your knowledge.

“What if he’s looking for someone powerful? Instead of something,” Fury thought out loud, mumbling to himself as he started tapping the pencil to his chin. Mumbling a silent agreement, you let out a dramatic sigh as you continued sinking into your chair, bored of the endless circle of conversation that continued feeling pointless to you. No point had been proven and nothing could be confirmed or denied since Fury’s space knowledge didn’t seem to exceed your own.

“God, pick yourself up a little bit, Stark,” Fury spoke in disappointment at your slouched figure, “You’re worse than a seven-year old child after you’ve had your coffee.”

Chuckling at his comment, you sat properly in your chair, straightening your back like a stiff board and intertwining your fingers on the glass table like a posture-perfect model, “Is this better, Corporal Fury?”

“Y/N, I’m not messing around here, the fate of our planet is kind of resting in your hands.”

Joking around was kind of your thing — you were a Stark after all. You knew that sometimes it got in the way when trying to hold a serious conversation (like right now), but there was nothing that could stop you from blurting out sarcastic or witty comments when people were relying on you for important answers.

You leaned towards him, a gentle smile on your lips, “I know, Fury, I’m just trying to bring some light to this dark situation.”

Fury nodded slowly, pointing down to the empty notepad in front of him, “Then try to shed some light on this.”

Dropping your smile, you pulled the notepad in front of you, staring blankly at the meaningless quote in front of you, “Have we ever considered that maybe Loki’s just messing with our minds? After all, that’s what he’s known for. This could just be an empty threat.”

“It’s not.”

Thor decided to make his entrance at the right time, arms crossed and a frown etched upon his bearded face — clearly, he had just come back from meeting Loki. He sauntered slowly over to the table and my eyes didn’t leave his figure. Something about the way he was standing gave me a feeling he was about to give us some information regarding what we’d been sitting in here discussing.

“Care to spill the beans, Thor?”

“Sorry? Spill beans? I do not under—”

“You don’t understand, yeah, I know. Just tell us what you think Loki means,” your patience was starting to wear thin with the Gods and their mysterious way of speaking. Still leaning over the table to direct your full attention to the blond hunk, you tensed your shoulders as you prepared for any kind of answer.

“There’s this belief on Asgard, and most of the universe, really, that there are these things called the Infinity Stones,” Thor spoke, treading carefully as if detonating a bomb. The words meant nothing to you, and he seemed to notice this as he began to elaborate.

“There are six Infinity Stones, and they’re the most powerful things in existence. One is in Loki’s sceptre, and as you see, it’s been able to turn a few of your best men into what you have called ‘flying monkeys.’ They are dangerous and if in the wrong hands, can create catastrophic events throughout our knowable universe.”

Letting the knowledge sink in as if you were listening to science fiction theories, you pressed Thor to go on, “What’s that got to do with us?”

Thor grimaced, as if the answer tasted bitter rolling off his tongue, “He believes that they are here on Earth. If these stones got into Loki’s hands, it would be the end of your life here on this planet.”

You processed this sudden turn of events, sitting silently as you plotted a way to prevent Loki from getting these so-called Infinity Stones, even though you strongly doubted something so powerful would be casually sitting on your planet without your knowledge, “On Earth? Seriously? Out of all the planets and solar systems and shit, why would they be here? Don’t you think we’d know about them?”

“You only just found out about them, and you’re not a regular person. So, no, you wouldn’t know about them. Especially if they’re safe.” Although you had just met the rock-solid God, you could sniff the honesty coming off of him as if you’d known him for years.

Sitting back in your chair as if hit by a literal brick wall of information, you turned to Fury, “What the fuckin’ hell do we do now?”

Fury raised his eyebrow, thinking over the scenarios in his head, “We plan a meeting and discuss. I’m going to gather the team. We meet in fifteen minutes.”

And without another word, Fury left you in deafening silence with Thor.

- - -

Within fifteen minutes, Fury stuck true to his word, and the rest of the Avengers had groggily piled into the room. Thor explained the Infinity Stone situation and how they worked, even talking once more about Loki’s sceptre — which apparently homed the ‘Mind Stone.’ That explains the mind control.

“Has he mentioned the Infinity Stones to you, Y/N?” Tony asked, sarcasm laced in his voice almost in disbelief of the turn of events.

“Nope,” I replied casually, popping the P, “I haven’t really spoken to him much, so maybe next time I’ll try to bring it up, I dunno.”

“No — no, we can’t let Loki know that we know,” Thor’s eyes widened as if a lightbulb went off in his head, “If he finds out we’re onto him, he can very easily cause irreversible damage. I mean, I’ve never seen Loki willingly sit in a cage like this, it’s probably a part of his plan. So, we keep our mouths closed and let events unfold, I’d say.”

“Let events unfold?” Fury spoke up, “We are not letting that psychopath sit back and live his little life in that cage as if it were freakin’ Disneyland. Y/N, you’re going back in there for conversation. Find out the location of the Infinity Stones and his plan with them.”

I ran a hand through my hair, sitting upright with a tight smile, “Fury, I hate to disagree with you, but... I disagree with you. Look, Thor’s right, we can’t let him know we’re onto him about this because he can easily just... get out of here, or call his little backup boys or something. I’ll go talk to him and try my best to get everything that I can from him, but I doubt he’ll give in that easily,” I let out a sigh, trying my best to ignore the looks that everyone was giving me, “Just, give me a few days.”

And that’s exactly what Fury did.

Sitting face to face with Loki got less intimidating every time I did it. Probably because he looked sicker every time I saw him. Not that he was any less captivating — his blue eyes held numerous mysterious emotions and the smirk on his lips proved that he had secrets I wanted to know, but the fact that he looked as if his entire life was crumbling before his eyes made me feel like my job might just get a little easier.

“You’re back,” Loki smirked at me as I walked into the room. For the first time in about three days, I wasn’t wearing a tactical suit — meaning I didn’t feel as on edge, my body finally getting to experience comfort. My y/h/c hair flowed loosely down my shoulders and rested on my plain white t-shirt which was tucked into a tight pair of jeans.

“Yeah, hi,” I smiled, my mind replaying what Nat and I discussed this morning.

Be kind to him. Understand him. Relate to him.

Relating to Loki might be the toughest challenge out of the three, but my mind was witty enough to come up with something that made sense.

“I’ve persuaded them to let you eat if you want,” I smiled, looking down at the brown paper bag in my hand and held it out, “I’ve got a bagel and a hashbrown. I don’t know if you even eat, but this is good shit in my opinion.”

“I do not want it, but I appreciate the effort, Y/N.”

The way my name rolled off his tongue sent shivers down my spine, and I mentally smacked myself for focusing on it. He sat in the corner of the cell, leaning against the glass wall with his green cloak wrapped around him. His eyes looked more sunken in than last time I saw him and a part of me felt bad knowing he was probably losing his mind in here.

“If ever you do need anything, though, you can ask me — I know how to get my way with these people,” I smiled at him as kindly as I could, sitting down in the small chair in front of the glass.

He chuckled, eyes raking over my body quickly before locking back with mine, “Change of heart from our last conversation, wouldn’t you say?”

Now it was my turn to laugh slightly, remembering the last time I spoke to him and how different the encounter was, “Doesn’t change the fact that you will do as I say, but, I am human and I do have feelings. I’m not too good at the ‘being mean’ part. Even though I act like it.” That was totally a lie — I could slam and call out people in an instant — but I needed to play the role of a sweetheart if I wanted to get him to believe I had good intentions.

“You don’t seem like someone who has trouble being mean,” Loki scoffed, shrugging his shoulders backwards.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” I raised an eyebrow at him, glaring him down as best as I could.

“Decipher it however you want,” he leaned his head backwards and gave me a weak smile. Something about him looked incredibly off and as much as it seemed like he was faking it for help, a tiny sliver of my mind told me he was being genuine and he needed help.

“Uh, so, how have you been?” I tried to strike up a casual conversation, still trying to figure out a way to pop the Infinity Stones in.

He gave me a quizzical look, “Just peachy. What do you think? I’m bored.”

I smiled down at the ground, an idea popping into my head, “Well, what if we played a game? To get to know each other? Like, Never Have I Ever or 20 questions?”

Loki rolled his eyes, “No, thank you. You seem incredibly boring.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” I scoffed, flicking a strand of my hair over my shoulder, “I’m bored too, this will give me something to do.”

Loki’s eyes flickered with an idea, and as he opened his mouth I knew I’d regret giving him the option to play.

“What do I get out of this?” He smirked coyly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rolling my eyes, I pointed to the brown bag on the floor, “Food, duh.” There was nothing else I could possibly offer Loki — nothing that was good, anyways. I knew he’d ask to set him free, but that was not an option in anyone’s books.

“Not good enough, princess,” he shook his eyes, eyes playfully tracing my figure.

“Well,” I began, “You also get me as a friend!”

The playful smile disappeared from his face, “Oh, yeah, that’s totally what I want.”

“Stop being a bitch, Loki, and just ask me a question.”

He placed his fingers on his chin as if pondering the situation for a moment before his eyes lit up and he shot me a toothy grin, the dark ideas swirling around his mind ready to break free from their cages. Was I going to regret this? Yeah, probably. Was I going to back down? No.

“Fine, let’s play.”

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fic-for-fic-sake · 5 years

Text

Hopeless?

A/N: Hey remember that fic I wrote a million years ago Hopeless? Well in case you don’t links to the other two chapters are here: 1, 2. Anyway...here’s part three. Also this chapter is NSFW!!!

The next couple of hours went by in a blur. Besides Thor, Loki, and Banner, the entire Asgardian population was seeking refuge after their planet was demolished by Sutur and Hela. Everyone went into overdrive to make sure the citizens of Asgard were as comfortable as they could be, for a people who just witnessed the destruction of their planet that was.

Y/N wasn’t sure if she should seek out Loki or avoid him all together. She was so confused. The last she had heard, Loki was dead. Thor wouldn’t lie to her right? So what had happened? She went through the motions of helping citizen after citizen until Tony called a meeting of all the Avengers.

Y/N made her way into the conference room and it struck her that she didn’t know where to sit. A year ago, she would’ve sat next to her then boyfriend Steve Rogers. They always sat next to each other during briefings, they had been inseparable. Ever since their breakup she had decided to sit next to Peter Parker and the two would pull pranks during the briefings, much to the annoyance of Tony. But this wasn’t the time for pranks. In the conference room the mood was tense. This was the first time everyone had been back under the same roof since the airport incident in Germany. Not to mention the Asgardian elephant in the room. Loki was back for the first time since attacking New York and nobody knew how to deal with that, least of all Y/N.

Seeming to pick up on her anxieties, like he had been doing for a while now, Steve extended a hand to Y/N and offered the open seat next to his. She sighed partially in relief and partially in worry as she sat next to him. She wasn’t sure where they stood with each other currently. She had seen him and for a brief moment it was like their breakup never happened. But it had, and then Loki came back. Something she never expected in her wildest dreams. Y/N wasn’t sure what the hell to think.

“Thank you all for coming.” Tony stated as he walked to the head of the table. Everyone sensed the palpable tension in the room, it was hard not to. “I know for most of us, being in the same space right now isn’t ideal. But, that doesn’t matter now. I got a distress call from Thor here and I decided to help him. So I guess I’ll turn it over to him now. C’mon Point Break, tell us what happened.” Tony finished as he awkwardly turned the floor over to Thor.

Thor had changed a lot from the last time Y/N had seen him. For one thing he was missing an eye. He had also cut his hair and wore a more serious expression than she was used to seeing. Clearly, whatever had happened to him since Sokovia wasn’t good.

“My friends,” Thor started as he addressed the room. “It’s been awhile since we last met. Unfortunately, Asgard is no more. I’m sure by now my people have filled you in with what they know. Asgard was destroyed by the being Sutur, and my sister Hela. We have come here to seek refuge on Midgard. I could think of no better team to aid me than the Avengers. I know you all must have many questions so I open up the floor to you.” Thor finished. He had come into his own, Y/N noted. He spoke with a regality that he didn’t have before. Nobody was really sure what to ask or how to go about it. Not being able to stand it any longer Y/N opened her mouth to ask the question that had been burning in her mind ever since the Asgardians stepped foot into the compound.

“How is Loki here?” Y/N questioned, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “The last I heard he was dead. What happened?” Y/N finished the question, letting her eyes lock with the god in question. He looked older, changed. His eyes still held the same mischievous glint that she recognized but he seemed different. Somehow softer. But Y/N was just sure she was imagining things. She couldn’t let herself hope that the Loki she knew actually existed before her now.

“Lady Y/N, when we last spoke of my brother it is true I thought him dead. However, he was not. He was on Asgard hiding in plain sight as our father.” Thor spoke. As he said this, murmurs of uncertainty made their way through the room. Y/N could sense Steve at her side, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked over at him curiously, really taking in his appearance for the first time. He had let his hair grow and he had grown a beard. His once proud and bright star spangled uniform was replaced with a darker, edgier version. Steve seemed more rugged now. Y/N wondered what he had gone through in the past year that had garnered such a change in appearance.

“How do we know we can trust him?” Steve asked Thor as his hand settled itself protectively on Y/N’s upper thigh. He gave it a reassuring squeeze as he continued speaking, “Last time Loki was on Earth he terrorized New York, brainwashed Clint and Selvig, and kidnapped Y/N. What makes you think he’s changed?”

Looking over at Y/N, Loki felt a twinge in his heart. This mortal who had stolen a part of him all those years ago was again in front of him. Captivating as ever. She had been the first to question his authenticity, she had showed concern for him. She said she asked his brother about his status. But why? Did she know what she meant to him? She couldn’t possibly know. Then Loki saw who was sitting next to her, rather, who was touching her. Captain Rogers, as present as ever. Loki had known. He always knew. Of course Y/N would run to the Captain for stability and comfort. But he could never give her what she wanted, not really. Loki decided it was finally time for him to speak, he wouldn’t let himself be held on trial by Steve Rogers of all people.

“What’s changed, mortal, is that I haven’t killed you already.” Loki retorted practically seething. All that got was a response of yelling from various parties in the room. Loki tried to get Y/N to look at him but her eyes were glued on Captain Rogers.

Thor stepped forward again in an attempt to quell the outburst. He raised his hands above his head as he began to speak, “Settle down. Loki does not mean his words. He has proven himself to me and that is all that matters. He will not betray us. He helped save the people of Asgard. He can be trusted.” Thor said in that kingly voice of his.

The rest of the meeting went by quickly. Tony explained that the refugees would only be staying for a month max, until they could be relocated to Norway. In the meantime, all of the members of the Avengers would live in the compound together and try to coexist. They would help out the Asgardians if they needed it with acclimation to life on Earth. When the meeting was adjourned Y/N made her way back to her room. She swiftly shut the door behind her and pulled out her journal and began to furiously write. Page after page she poured out all the events that had transpired in the past five hours. She processed how Steve and the others were back, how Thor and the Asgardians needed refuge, how Loki of all people was alive and now living in the compound. She couldn’t believe it. Thor said Loki had changed and he could be trusted but was that true? Should she try and find Loki and confront him about what she had been feeling for the past five years? She was mulling all of this over when she heard a knock at her door.

“Come in!” Y/N called as she put her journal back into her desk drawer.

“Hey, can we talk?” Y/N heard Steve ask from the doorway. She beckoned him inside her room and then shut her door. They both awkwardly stood there, neither one of them sure who should speak first, and what exactly to say.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I left.” Was all Steve could manage to say.

Y/N laughed, “Sorry?” She questioned. “That’s all you have to say? Sorry.” She responded flatly, not really knowing she was angry until now. Everything from the past year and also past five hours, all those emotions, came bubbling to the surface and took the shape of anger. “You leave me in Germany with nothing more than a flip phone and a note and all you have to say for yourself is sorry.”

“You know I couldn’t have brought you with me, it was too dangerous.” Steve responded, defending himself. “Plus you signed the accords, I couldn’t risk you becoming a fugitive.”

“I signed them because I thought I was doing the right thing for the world Steve!” Y/N yelled. “If you would’ve told me what was happening with Bucky instead of keeping me in the dark I could’ve done something!” She seethed. All of the feelings she had from the past year; hurt, anger, betrayal, came back to the surface. Not to mention the confusion she felt for seeing Loki come through that door earlier today.

“I didn’t want you to get involved, you could’ve gotten captured!” Steve roared back. He stepped closer to her, wanting to protect her. He didn’t want to fight but he had to tell her why he did what he did.

“But it should’ve been my choice to make Steve! Mine! You took that away from me. How could you do that? After everything we’ve been through, don’t you know I would do anything for you?” She questioned back, sudden tears coming to her eyes. All the hurt she felt from him leaving came flooding back, and suddenly she was there a year ago holding the note again. Steve had said he couldn’t risk her getting hurt, he had taken her choice away from her. He had been selfish. She wanted to help him but now she couldn’t.

“No! I couldn’t risk losing you again!” Steve roared. “Not after I nearly lost you during the battle of New York.” Steve said suddenly feeling defeated as he sat down on her mattress and put his head in his hands. “I almost lost you once and I couldn’t fathom the possibility of that happening again.” Steve said quieter now.

Y/N felt her heart pang with pain. She hated seeing Steve in any sort of anguish, it always tore her up. All of the anger she felt had suddenly melted away as she moved towards him.

“Hey, you’re not gonna lose me, I’m right here.” She said softly as she held Steve’s face in her hands. She gently stroked his slightly long hair with her hands and he visibly calmed down. She hated seeing him so worked up like this. She had only seen it a handful of times. Without thinking, she straddled him and positioned her hands on either side of his face. “I’m right here Rogers.” She said with a slight smile on her face.

That seemed to calm him down. He let out a long held sigh and his hands came to rest on her waist. They looked into each other’s eyes and it was as if nothing had changed between the two of them. Like they were just two lovers in each others embrace. Ever so slowly, Y/N brought her lips onto his and kissed him tenderly. It was the only way she knew how to show him that she was there, with him, in this moment and she was okay. Slowly, she felt Steve ease into her kiss. His arms wrapped tighter around her waist, drawing her even closer to him. She moaned softly into his mouth as her fingers threaded themselves through his hair. He brought one of his hands up to hold her head in place, effectively deepening the kiss. Their tongues mingled and danced together, sliding past each other tenderly. Y/N slowly began to grind herself onto the Captain’s lap, earning a low groan from the back of his throat.

Steve began to kiss along her jaw until he found the sweet spot on her neck. She let out a gasp that quickly turned into a moan. Her hips continued to move on their own accord against his growing member. She felt the familiar heat begin to pool between her legs. Almost effortlessly, Steve picked her up and placed her on the bed, positioning himself over her. He quickly brought his lips back to hers and she happily accepted his mouth. She reached for the hem of his shirt and made quick work of pulling it over his head. He did the same with hers, and slowly but surely all of their clothing was off and in a heap on the floor. Y/N felt Steve’s hand go between her thighs to where she needed him. She let out a moan as he spread her legs with his knee and found her clit. He massaged it between his fingers and her back bowed, arching off the bed. She whimpered as he slowly inserted two fingers in her dripping core. He swallowed the moans coming from her mouth with his lips, greedily pumping his fingers in and out of her.

She gripped his shoulders as she bucked her hips into his hand, loving the feeling of friction when the heel of his hand met her swollen clit. “Please Steve, I need you, I need to feel you inside of me.” She pleaded with him. He happily obliged as he removed his fingers and placed his member between her legs. He slowly entered her and the gasps she was making as she adjusted to him were music to his ears. He filled her inch by glorious inch until he bottomed out. In a tender gesture he leaned down and kissed her passionately as he began to move. As he pounded into her their mouths collided and meshed. They each poured all of their emotions from the past year into that kiss. Y/N moaned in pleasure as Steve continued to thrust into her, missing the feeling of him inside of her. He knew what she liked and how to make her come undone for him. He reached between their bodies and slowly started to rub her clit. Every so slowly Y/N felt the coil in her stomach tighten until she couldn’t hold it in anymore and she came around him. She let herself go as she moaned his name. He thrust a few more times and then Y/N could feel him spill inside of her.

Steve had pulled out of her and both of them just laid silently in each others arms. Neither sure what this particular event meant. Technically they were still broken up but Y/N wasn’t sure if that mattered anymore. She looked over at Steve next to her and a small smile played at her lips as she saw him asleep next to her. She chuckled to herself, of course he was tired. After the day and the fight they both had, not to mention the sex, it made sense. She decided it was best not to wake him and she got up out of bed. She put on a robe and made her way out of her room. She walked into the kitchen and was surprised to see nobody else there. Then she looked at the clock, 2:00am. Maybe her fight and everything with Steve had gone on longer than she had thought. She opened the cabinet to get a glass and set it on the counter. She then turned and opened up the fridge looking for something to drink. Reflecting on the day she had, she took out a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. She was about to put the bottle back in the fridge when she heard him.

“Would you mind pouring me a glass as well love?” Loki questioned in that silky smooth voice of his. Even after all these years, his voice had the same effect on Y/N. It sent a shiver up her spine. Wordlessly, she grabbed another glass out of the cabinet and poured out wine for him as well, her eyes locked on his the entire time. Afraid he would leave if she took her eyes off of him for a second, she left the bottle on the counter and handed his glass to him. For a brief moment their fingers touched and she felt a spark. She gasped quietly and pulled her hand away. She couldn’t believe he was here, she had so many questions to ask him she wasn’t sure where to start.

Tags: @lokixme @amor67figment-love @scarlettfandomempress @thatweirdwalangpake @crazylittlewitch @harleykittykat @bluegirlusa1

#hopeless?#loki x reader #steve rogers x reader #avengers fanfic #reader insert #captain america fanfic

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jgreenfeld · 4 years

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meet the muse;

10 FICTIONAL CHARACTERS

1. Harry Potter

Your obsession with Harry freakin' Potter is a timeless affair. You read the first book tucked into a corner on the a tour bus, musicians fiddling with their instruments all around you, but you were lost to them. You were too busy learning spells, playing Quidditch and fancying yourself Mrs Jessica Potter. Sure, a lot of your friends have outgrown their Harry Potter phase, but you don't think that'll ever happen to you. He was never just a character to you, he was a comfort when you were recovering from your illness and figuring out what life was going to be like without being able to hear things from now on. You lost quite a number of things after the meningitis hit, but you never lost Harry. He taught you how to be brave and true and a little bit sassy, and you're always going to love him.

2. Atticus Finch

Your father is a mechanic, not a lawyer. He wears sports jerseys instead of tweed suits. But he's still the closest thing to Atticus Finch that this world is going to get - in your eyes anyway. Your dad was the first one to introduce you to To Kill A Mockingbird. He panicked and shoved his own copy into your hands after you finished the fifth Harry Potter book and spent three straight hours wailing over Sirius. Of course, TKAM wasn't going to be something that necessarily cheered you up, but you were hooked from the get-go. Atticus taught you how to be just and fair. He taught you to think about what it would be like to walk a mile in someone else's shoes. He taught you valuable life lessons that you still carry today, and even though it would be impossible to hope that everyone in the world could be more like him, you could at lease try to channel all that energy yourself. You like to think that he taught you how to be a better person.

3. Mark Watney

Mark Watney taught you that space is dangerous and terrifying and that it has the potential to be the very death of you. He taught you that it's vast and empty and nothing but a challenge. And it only made you love it even more. When your father picked up on your space obsession, right after your solar system model won first prize at the middle school science fair, he gave you a copy of The Martian. In all honesty, he had no clue what it was about but the name hinted that he was on the right path. You devoured it whole. Or rather... you spent the full night yelling at your book whenever something traumatic happened and Michelle fully attempted to smother you with a literal pillow just to get you to shut up. Mark Watney made you fall in love with space even more, and he kickstarted your desire to work for NASA one day. When you feel like you're never going to make it, you just need to look to him for a kick up the ass.

4. Gilbert Blythe

Gilbert Blythe is the very first love of your life. You understand that there's a high chance you’re not his type, because when he tugs on Anne's pigtails and calls her 'carrots', she hits him over the head with a slate and it's love at first sight for him because of that. If Gilbert Blythe ever tugged on your hair to get your attention, then you probably would have just decided to marry him right then and there. Still, what's not to love about him? He's kind and he's funny and he's smart and he cares about school. Perhaps you would be relationship goals based solely on the fact that you're a nerd and he's a nerd. But you'll never get to test that theory out, which is a shame. In the meantime, Gilbert is setting the standards for all other men and he's raised the bar to a whole other level.

5. Paddington Bear

Paddington Bear is the reason you demanded a duffle coat and red wellies at the age of six. He's the reason you wanted to travel to Darkest Peru whenever a family vacation was brought up. And he's the reason that you still unironically enjoy a marmalade sandwich, even to this day. Plus, he's cuddly and kind and the exact friend you think anyone should have. Honestly, you'd love to be someone's answer to Paddington Bear.

6. Matt Saracen

You're never going to be a football player and, to be quite honest, you never really want to be. You're tiny and any tackle would crush you in an instant. Soccer, on the other hand, is different. And then, of course, there's cheerleading. Matt Saracen was never a cheerleader, although you have total faith in him and believe that he could be anything he wanted to be. He was a football player though, and had always been desperate to be one, despite shortcomings like money and being one of the younger kids on the team. You relate to that. Friday Night Lights taught you all about teamwork. You love being part of a group like that, whether that be the girls soccer team or the cheerleading squad. It's what you miss most about high school, that sense of belonging. You love your family but Michelle likes to make your life a living hell, Brendan can only defend you so much and Gabby has her head in the clouds half the time. Matt taught you that sometimes it's okay to feel way more at home when you're part of a team.

7. Leslie Knope

She likes waffles, she likes fairness and she loves her friends. Leslie Knope is exactly the kind of woman that you want to grow up to be. Maybe you don't have a future in politics, but that's okay! You can still embody her in all the ways that are important. You're a feminist, you would happily arrange a wedding ceremony for two gay penguins and you would absolutely die for Michelle Obama. Leslie Knope is that caring and goofy friend that you want to be, and while you're not as savvy as her or as good with words, and you absolutely do not have her knack for public speaking, you wake up every morning and tell yourself that you're going to be a Pawnee Goddess that day.

8. Clint Barton

You watch the Avengers and you fall in love with superheroes. Your dad seems bolstered by this since he's been trying to get you to read comics for years now, and this eventually persuades you. You discover that you're a die-hard Captain America fan and there are several failed attempts to write a popular Steve/Bucky story when you foray into fanfiction, only to realise you're nowhere near as gifted a writer as you think you are. But you still love this world and these characters and it's like a blanket gets wrapped around you when you find out Clint Barton is actually deaf in the comics. Just like you. You devour Hawkguy, trawl the internet for all the meta discourse and fanfiction you can find and you even dress up as Kate Bishop one Halloween. Clint Barton teaches you that you can have a disability and still be a superhero.

9. Luke Skywalker

There was no way that you were making it through your childhood without discovering Luke. And Leia and Han and Chewie. But Luke was the one that stuck with you most and your dad was very proud of you for that. He's a hero, but not the typical rough-and-tough, 'needs a damsel in distress to save' sort of hero. He teaches you that you can save the galaxy and still be loyal and compassionate and have a good heart. You don't need to be jaded to be a hero, and it's okay to show emotion. And sometimes it's okay to be a little bit of a drama queen as well. You appreciate that last one.

10. Buttercup

The Princess Bride is one of the few movies that you and Michelle actually agree on. Or rather, you like all movies and she hates anything that you like. But even Michelle can't say no to The Princess Bride. Buttercup is a character who undergoes development, giving you hope that maybe one day Michelle will also go through that same growth and decides that she wants you to be her sister. Perhaps it's a pipe dream but you never give up hope. Buttercup also teaches you that you can fall hard and fast for someone who says 'as you wish' to your every command and like, you get that. You're pretty sure that you'd die on the spot should anyone say that to you.

9 TWEETS

@jupiterjess: i've ran out of oreos. is my life even worth living anymore?

@jupiterjess: the new cheerleading captain at jasper high messaged me for tips. LITTLE OLD ME. i'm blushing hardcore.

@jupiterjess: thank you so much to everyone who failed to tell me i've been walking around with a chocolate milk moustache all day!!!!! you're the best guys!!!!!! thanks!!!!!

@jupiterjess: do you ever just. stop and think. about exoplanets?? someone come hold my hand and talk to me about exoplanets.

@jupiterjess: HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY JAMES POTTER, YOU'RE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!!!!!

@jupiterjess: america, i have no idea what you're doing right now, but you need to be better than this. wake up and smell the racism.

@jupiterjess: 'it's a power that jedi have that lets them control people and... makes things float.' rEY asdfgh

@jupiterjess: as a bisexual, the trailer for 'last christmas' has been very difficult for me. thoughts and prayers for jess in this trying time.

@jupiterjess: @NASA i love u

8 FACTS ABOUT SPACE

1. Halleys Comet won’t orbit past earth again until 2061

JESS' INPUT: Okay, so here's another fun fact about Halleys Comet! At Disney's Magic Kingdom, Main Street USA is connected to Tomorrowland by one thing and one thing only. Main Street's design is based on the year 1910, and Tomorrowland's design is based on the year 1986. What do those two years have in common? That was when Halleys Comet orbited past Earth! ... That's more of a Disney World fact, but pretty cool all the same, huh?

2. A full NASA spacesuit costs $12,000,000.

JESS' INPUT: 12 million! That's so much money, holy smokes. Honestly, imagine going around wearing an outfit that cost 12 million dollars. Wouldn't be me! I'm getting anxiety just thinking about it.

3. There may be a planet made out of diamonds.

JESS' INPUT: Okay, so this planet is like, 40 lightyears away and it's eight times the size of earth. Researchers think it could be made of graphite and diamonds and everyone is like 'wow, that's cool!' And okay. yeah, I get it. Diamond planet. That's super cool. But you know what isn't cool? That episode of Doctor Who where they went to the diamond planet and that one woman got possessed. That was the opposite of cool.

4. The footprints on the moon will be there for 100 million years.

JESS' INPUT: There's no atmosphere on the moon so the footprints there can't be eroded by wind or anything like that. So those footprints are going to be there for practically forever. Imagine being Buzz and Neil and being able to flex like that. I went to the grocery store the other day, accidentally dropped a jar of Marmite and then stood in it - so my footprint was there because the cashier couldn't handle the Marmite-y smell for long enough to clean it up and apparently I wasn't allowed to help for 'health and safety'. So at least my footprint is going to be imprinted somewhere. Just nowhere that's as cool as the moon.

5. The moon was once a piece of the earth.

JESS' INPUT: People think that there was some sort of collision which made a part of earth break off. They say it was an early protoplanet of Mars called Theia. Anyway, Theia made the moon break away from Earth but it stayed around to orbit us because of the Earth's gravitational pull. Don't you love the moon? She's a lesbian queen! Hey, maybe Theia had a crush on her or something and just went about it like, the wrong way.

6. There is floating water in space.

JESS' INPUT: Uh huh! So there's this massive water vapour cloud that astronauts found and it holds - oh my gosh, get reads for this - it holds 140 trillion times the mass of Earth's oceans. My head is honestly spinning just thinking about it. 140 trillion! That's crazy!

7. There is a volcano on Mars three times the size of Everest.

JESS' INPUT: Yep, her name is Olympus Mons and I would personally like to know why she didn't have a starring role in The Martian. Maybe it's because she would have easily outshined Matt Damon. Sorry, Matt.

8. In 3.75 billion years, the Milky Way and Andromeda Galaxies will collide.

JESS' INPUT: I'll be honest, my brain doesn't even know where to begin processing this. I can't... compute. What is this... I can't... Sorry, I'm shutting down. Jess out!

7 OREO FLAVOURS

7. Hot & Spicy Cinnamon Oreos. - you can pretend you can handle spicy food by eating one of these. and doesn't that make you look cultured, huh? still... it's a weird mix of flavours. 5/10. 6. Peeps Oreos. - a solid 7/10 for taste... but you still feel guilty about eating a fluffy marshmallow chicken, hence the low ranking. 5. Oreo Mini. - all the 10/10 taste of a regular oreo but they're tiny so it's very easy to hide them when you want to sneakily eat them in class! a solid 12/10 for being so gosh darn convenient. 4. Golden Oreos. - look, you were brought up in ireland and that means that sometimes you just really, really want a custard cream, okay? this is america's answer to that and it comes in a delicious, compact oreo form. *chef's kiss* exquisite. 8.5/10 3. Mint Oreos. - honestly, it's so easy to feel halfway to sophisticated when you eat one of these. a solid 9/10. 2. Red Velvet Oreos. - CREAM CHEESE IS THE PEOPLE'S CHEESE!!! 10/10!!!!!! 1. Cinnamon Bun Oreos. - you nearly cried when you tasted these for the first time. the sun was shining. obama was president. your skin was clear, your crops were growing. the promise of tomorrow was as bright and warm as the feeling in your chest when that cinnamon-y biscuit-y goodness first met your tastebuds. you could write an essay on cinnamon bun oreos. 100000/10.

6 FAMILY MEMBERS

1. Jensen Greenfeld

Your dad is probably your favourite person in the world. You'd do anything for him - including deferring your college acceptance to keep an eye on him, because that's what family does. He's your rock, your best friend, and he's the most giving person you've ever met in your life. He and your mum met in university when he studied abroad for a year and they were instantly best friends, keeping in touch long after they'd graduated and your dad moved back home. He knew your mum always wanted a kid and so he gave her you. It's unconventional, you know that, and most people raised their eyebrows at him helping another woman conceive in such a short time after his wife passed away, but that's the kind of person your dad is. Generosity helped him through his grief. How could anyone criticise that? He taught you how to ride a bike, change a leaky exhaust and adopted Comet for you so you wouldn't feel so lonely when you moved to New York to be with him. When he ended up in hospital, you were beside yourself. But not because you had to stay with him now instead of going to college like you'd planned. You could never begrudge him that, not when so much of his own life has been dedicated to making sure you were happy.

2. Magda McTaggert

Your mum has never had the easiest life. Disowned by her parents after she came out to them, she had to make her own way in the world. That's something you've never been able to relate to, because she made sure that you always had people who loved you. When you were sick as a kid, she stayed up with you every night, barely getting any sleep herself. She was your champion when you began to learn sign language, and she held your hand when the doctors first began talking about your cochlear implants. You miss her when she's in Ireland and you're in America, but she's only ever a Skype call away.

3. Kinsey McTaggert

Technically, Kinsey is your step-mother. But you rarely refer to her as that. She's your ma. She's been in your life since you were three-years-old so keeping her at arms-length with a 'step' term doesn't feel right to you when she's just as much your family as your mum and dad are. Sure, you'll call her by your first name but that's because Kinsey is so terrifyingly, inexplicably, astronomically cool. She's been managing bands for her whole life, she has pink hair and she let you come on tour when you were younger and being homeschooled. Your fondest memories are the tour bus with your mum and Kinsey and whatever up and coming rockers had adopted you as their little sister. Kinsey is the reason you felt alright leaving your mum behind to start school in America. You know she's in safe hands with her wife.

4. Michelle Greenfeld

Michelle has pretty much hated you since the day you were born. Perhaps 'hate' is a strong word, but she highly dislikes you and never let you forget the fact that you're only her half-sister. In some ways, you get it. You came into the family shortly after her mum had died. Her dad had a kid with another woman and, even though there were absolutely no romantic feelings involved, it still must have felt like a kick in the teeth. You try your best to be accommodating of her feelings because you know she's not all bad. The ways she treats Brendan and especially Gabby is proof of that. She can be the perfect big sister - unfortunately, just not to you.

5. Brendan Greenfeld

Brendan likes you though, and you're so happy about that. Brendan is exactly what you want in a big brother. He's protective and funny and taught you all the cheats for his video games, so you're basically unstoppable when it comes to Mario Kart now. He was also the one that told Gabby to shut up when she saw you for the first time after you lost your hearing. He took learning sign language in his stride and always makes sure there's room for you to sit at movie night. Sometimes you worry that, if it ever came down to it, he'd still pick Michelle over you - full sibling loyalty and all. But maybe that's doing Brendan an injustice, because he's never been anything other than the perfect big brother to you.

6. Gabby Greenfeld

Gabby is a sweetheart. She might be a little flaky at times and come out with mildly offensive things, but you know that she means well. Michelle is her favourite but she loves you as well, even if she often turns her nose up at your love for scrunchies and denim jackets. She'd rather get you to wear something sparkly and show-y and while you'll never say no to glitter, you don't think that Gabby's closet is quite for you. In fact, you're pretty sure only she can pull it off. Gabby is wild and free and doesn't care what anyone thinks of her. She's loving and loud and you want to make sure that you get to keep her around forever.

5 MEMORIES

memory one

You blush when Tor lets out a low whistle. "Some talent you've got there, Little J," he says. That makes you blush even more. Tor is just so nice. And has a handsome face. Kinsey says you're far too young to like boys yet and that you're far too smart to like someone like Tor. She says he goes through girls like a revolving door and you're not sure what that means, but you like the attention from him anyway. "I was just messing around," you smile, your fingers trailing over the keys again. He tips back his head and laughs. "Well, mess around anymore and I might be out of a job. Are you trying to upstage me?" Tor teases. Grinning, you shake your head and Serge wanders over. Normally, he's so tall and silent and sort of intimidating but his smile is warm when he reaches over to ruffle your hair. "Say the word and I'll kick Tor to the curb in an instant, Jess," he promises solemnly. You know that they're just joking, but it's nice to feel that sort of validation. Especially when you're a little kid and they're rockstars. That's why music is so special, it brings everyone together, even Irish Harry Potter enthusiasts and charming keyboardists with pretty eyes.

memory two

The headache has cleared up but you still feel groggy and confused and so you fall back asleep again, promising yourself that you'll ask after your mum when you wake up again. Because maybe then you'll be able to hear her. There's no such luck when you come to again. Everything is silent and it's too weird to even begin describing. You're confused at first but your mum's tears, your dad's shell-shocked expression and the grim line set around Kinsey's mouth helps you to put the pieces together. There's a kind looking doctor who's writing something on a notepad for you, and you already know what it's going to say before he places it in your lap. You've worked it out. You're deaf. It's as if years fall away from you at that moment. It's hard to reconcile the news with everything you know about yourself. Your whole childhood has been music and now what? That's gone away and you're just meant to be okay with it? How is that fair? With shaking hands, you take the pen from the doctor and write a reply. As soon as your mum reads it, she starts crying again but your dad finds it in himself to smile and he reaches over to squeeze your knee through the hospital bedsheets. He still has that piece of paper which is stupidly sentimental of him and you love him for it. It read: Okay. What's next?

memory three

At first, you were excited. After years of homeschooling, you're finally going to a proper high school and you get to see your dad every day. What's not to love about all of that? However, now that you're in New York, the nerves have started to settle in. What if no one wants to be your friend? What if the kids at school are weird about the deaf thing? What if they try and touch your implant? What if they don't let you join the soccer team even though Kinsey bought you new cleats specifically for that? Most of all, what if Michelle tries to smother you in your sleep? Your dad laughs when you voice that one aloud. "Don't you think you're being a little bit dramatic?" he asks you, fondly smoothing down your hair. You laugh along with him but you aren't so sure. That night at dinner, Michelle spears a meatball with her fork in such an aggressive manner, glaring at you all the while, that you think you're about to faint. No, you don't think you're being dramatic at all.

memory four

"Jess? Jess, are you alright?" At first, you can't even reply. You're too speechless. With shaking hands, you present him with the letter - your CalTech acceptance letter. Your dad cheers at once and he scoops you up into a hug and you think that you could just die of happiness right then and there. You're going to be studying aeronautical engineering. All of the hard work, the late night physics reading, the dedication to science club, the hours spent in your dad's garage understanding engines, the grease and oil covering your hands and your hair and your face. It was all worth it. And now it's one step closer to NASA.

memory five

A heart attack. Your dad isn't even old, and as far as you know he's always had a clean bill of health so what's changed. You stay silent all the way to the hospital and Brendan lets you. When you arrive, Gabby hugs you and even Michelle manages a watery smile your way. Then all four of you are allowed into see him. He's lying in bed, tubes attached to him, but he's sitting upright and he smiles at you, his kids, even if he does look sleepy. Then he cracks some sort of joke and hell if you can remember what it is. But that's what makes you cry. The idea of college goes flying right out the window. He argues with you, naturally. So you lie and tell him you were never that sure about it anyway. He doesn't believe you at first because that career path has been the only thing you've ever been sure about since you were 11-years-old. Maybe you're a good actress because eventually he relents and lets you stay with him. Or maybe, deep down, he's scared to be on his own now too.

4 CRUSHES

1. Tor Eklund

keyboard player for The Corkscrews

has the nicest set of teeth in the world

went through girls like a revolving door according to Kinsey

called you 'little J'

total dreamboat

saw you as a little sister

2. Graham O'Connell

striker for the boys football team in Ireland

had never seen or read Harry Potter but he had floppy hair so you were willing to make allowances

always complimented your football boots

was your first kiss

asked if the two of you could keep in touch when you moved to Canada

messaged you one day to say he'd started watching Harry Potter

you were overjoyed

messaged you again to say he didn't really like Remus Lupin

you well and truly dodged that bullet, didn't you?

3. Amanda Forbes

literally the prettiest girl you've ever seen in your life

was visiting Jasper in the summer with her family

was also a cheerleader

your bisexual awakening

said she wanted to kiss you because she had never kissed a girl before

kissed you lots of times that summer

ghosted you when she left and has a boyfriend now

well, fine then, Amanda

4. Steve Rogers aka Captain America

I mean, you're only bloody human, aren't you?

3 JOBS

1. Neighbourhood Dog Walker

You were fourteen. You needed some money. You loved dogs. It made perfect sense. All the neighbours trusted you to look after their pooches and you made about twenty different canine friends.

2. Apprentice Mechanic

When you told your dad you wanted to be an aeronautical engineer, he said that you needed hands on experience. It helped that he owned an auto shop. Convenient, right? He thought a week working alongside him would help you get to grips with things and prepare you for college. You kept working there for three years. You loved it so much.

3 Aeronatucial Engineer

With your dad on the mend, it doesn’t seem like such a pipe dream anymore. Now you’re at NYU and you feel lucky that they want you to study with them. It’s not CalTech but it’s still one step closer to NASA, and this way you still get to be close to your dad.

2 DOGS

1. Comet

2. Sirius

1 JESS

Bubbly, optimistic, generous, strong-willed, determined, resilient, resourceful, courageous, cheery, nurturing, reckless, stubborn, lacks self-awareness, self-conscious, easily influenced, cares too much about what other people think of her, total Gryffindor, eats too many Oreos, space nerd, deaf, soccer player, cheerleader, dog mom, half-Irish, half-American.

#muse;

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i-write-shakespeare-not-disney · 6 years

Text

So Easy to Fall- Klance One Shot

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15653073

Listen to Taylor Swift’s Gorgeous if you haven’t hahaha

It was funny the way time made people realize things. Like who holds an important place in your mind, in your heart. Being so far from the paladins for so long made Keith realize just how important they all were to him. How much he had come to see them all as family.

Coming back, however, had another effect on him entirely. It had been a struggle to understand where he stood with them, especially with the urgency of having to come back and get things done.

Now, with a course set for Earth, he had time to mull it over.

How the hell had Lance become… that?

He wasn’t the same guy who had to be yelled at to know when to stop joking, the one ready to pick petty arguments at the most minimal slight. He was a lot more serious now. A lot quieter. He even looked older. Keith knew he himself had aged his two years, so his change was expected. But Lance’s…. He was a little less round, a little more muscular.

His eyes seemed impossibly bluer? His skin somehow darker, but Keith wasn’t sure how without the sun.

Lance was, to put it frankly, breathtakingly gorgeous. Although, it was in more than just his looks. Keith had seen the way Lance had worked to be supportive of everyone on the team. How he’d made sure everyone kept their spirits up, that everyone was okay. He had a beautiful soul, one that shone so bright it made Keith warm inside just being around him.

Keith could tell everyone was excited to go home. He knew everyone wanted to see their families before regrouping to properly defend their home. In the meantime, Keith wasn’t really sure what to do with all of his emotions.

It wasn’t so much the fact that Lance was a boy that made things confusing. Keith had long ago noted his attraction to guys over girls. What made him feel so panicked was the fact that Lance felt so completely out of his league. He was a total flirt, specifically with girls. Keith didn’t stand a chance.

Maybe it was pathetic, but it made him kind of… bitter. He knew that Lance saw him as a rival, or at least he did before. Now, at best, he saw him as a leader. But did he see him as a friend? Keith hated knowing he might never see him as more than that. To be completely honest, Keith didn’t really feel angry that Lance didn’t like him back. To each their own. If the guy was straight, Keith wasn’t going to try and change that or “fix” that or anything. That was just who Lance was, and that was fine.

What made him angry was that he felt this way about Lance. That Lance, without even trying, had managed to make Keith fall basically head over heels. Because Keith had no fucking clue what to do with those feelings, especially with how often he had to see and talk to Lance. He was going to fuck up eventually.

The rebels had helped the paladins and given them another ship to get to Earth once they’d lost the Castle of Lions. They would be reaching Earth soon. But Keith always found Lance staring out one of the large windows at the galaxy they were travelling through.

Despite his instincts telling him to keep walking, he wanted to hear his voice. Talk to him. Test himself and see if maybe he could manage being a normal person around Lance.

“Hey.”

Lance turned and his eyes widened when he saw Keith. “Oh. Hey, man.” He turned his body like a dancer might- shoulders, then hips, then feet. Until he was facing Keith completely, leaning against the window. “What’s up?”

Keith shook his head and shrugged. “Nothing. You just seem to come out here a lot. What are you… thinking?”

There was a beat of silence and Lance looked out at stars again. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I’m kind of… scared to see my family. I mean not scared, just… nervous. It’s been a long time, and I don’t know how to explain everything that’s happened. Going back to Earth feels… surreal, I guess.”

“They’ll be happy to see you, Lance. Because you’ll be home safe.” Lance nodded, but he didn’t answer.

It was quiet for a bit, and Keith debated leaving so Lance could think in peace. He felt like he was intruding, even though Lance didn’t seem to shut him out. He kept his body turned to Keith, his eyes were just on the stars. And his mind seemed somewhere farther away. Keith wished he knew how to talk to him, to comfort him.

“How are you feeling, by the way? About the Shiro thing?”

Keith felt something in him tighten. “Uh… I don’t really know. I still feel like I’m anxious around him.” Keith grit his teeth as he thought back to the fight. He never in a million years would’ve thought he’d fight against Shiro. Against his brother. The coldness in Shiro’s eyes as he tried to kill Keith still haunted his nightmares. Keith still woke up in a cold sweat because he was reliving it. Even knowing Shiro was okay now, that he was himself.

But for so long, he hadn’t been. It didn’t help that now Shiro always looked a little sad, especially when he looked at Keith. And of course, Keith had to have a permanent scar as a reminder of that day.

“It makes you look like your mom.”

“Huh?” Keith stared at Lance in confusion.

Blue eyes were on him again, soft and serious. Lance touched his own cheek. “Your scar. It makes you look like your mom.” Keith touched his cheek and found himself blushing. How the hell did Lance know he was thinking about it? “We have the real Shiro back. And he has you to thank for that, Keith. You figured it out. You reached him.”

“It’s not your fault, Lance,” he assured softly. “Don’t blame yourself for not figuring it out earlier.”

“But he tried, Keith, and I was too stupid to-”

“Hey!” Lance clamped his mouth shut, and even Keith had to take a moment to come back from snapping at him so loudly in the quiet. He took a frustrated breath through his nose and shook his head. “Don’t… don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re not stupid. What happened with Shiro was hard and confusing. But he reached out to you. Not the others. You still got farther than them. That says a lot.” Lance nodded and returned to staring at the stars. Keith felt like he’d royally fucked this up, so he just said, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your alone time or anything…. So I’ll… go.”

He walked away and after a few more steps, he heard, “Thanks, Keith.”

And goddamn that soft tone of voice and that shy smile Lance gave him when Keith looked back because it made every emotion increase tenfold.

***

After a few days of travelling, the group decided they needed to stop on a nearby planet for resources. They needed food, they needed supplies. Once Pidge ran a data check on the nearest inhabitable planets, they reached the nearest one that was with the coalition and safe. There were safety measures of course, but at the sight of the lions, the blasters and canons deactivated and many of the planet’s inhabitants came out to greet the famous paladins of Voltron.

When Allura and Shiro stepped forward to explain their need for resources, the inhabitants, Keith would learn they were called Fenwurs, insisted on letting them rest for a while. Except rest must have had a different definition there because the next thing Keith knew, a banquet’s worth of food was being prepared and every Fenwur was congregating to the area around the lions.

Things that looked like paper lanterns were strung up and everyone was putting on celebration clothes. They were making a party out of the paladins’ visit.

Each paladin was given a shawl and a wreath to wear on their heads. Countless foods were offered, countless gifts of gratitude, and countless supplies were being left for them. It reminded Keith of an eerie sacrifice he’d read about in history books.

The paladins stayed together, uncertain about all the things being provided.

A Fenwur with a large tray of drinks went up to them and bowed. “Tekiscky,” he said, insisting they take the multicolored drink in thin, stained-glass goblets. “Our finest drink.”

They all took a glass and thanked him for the offer. Coran seemed to have no trouble drinking it, so the rest of them figured they were safe.

Pidge made a face as she drank it then gasped for air. “What is this?” she whispered. “It’s like… I don’t even know!”

“The taste it leaves on my tongue reminds me of alcohol,” Lance said, smacking his lips and cringing.

“Do I want to know how you know that, Lance?” Shiro asked. Lance shrugged.

Hunk promptly spit his back into his goblet, and Allura seemed to settle for taking small sips. She could never refuse a gift, always feeling guilty if she tried ever since the near sacrifice with the Arusians.

Keith admitted, it wasn’t a great taste. A mix of sweet and sour and bitter. Like it wanted to taste like candy, but the aftertaste it left made Keith want to cough it away. He found that if he just drank it continuously it wasn’t so bad and it didn’t give him time to note the aftertaste.

It was not long before Keith realized exactly what kind of drink Tekiscky was. Lance had gotten it pretty close when he said it felt similar to alcohol.

Keith, who thought he’d figured out a way around the gross aftertaste, had already drunk three goblets since they were provided, and they were quickly catching up with him. But this tipsiness, or maybe drunkenness, was different from what Earth’s alcohol caused.

This one didn’t make him forget things. He didn’t feel dizzy or nauseous or an urgent need to piss every ten minutes. He just felt light. Everything around him looked light. The colors were soft and the sounds were gentle but strong and Keith was pretty sure he was babbling nonstop, but he didn’t mind that so much.

He didn’t mind because it was making Lance smile.

The only other paladin who had gotten to his point was Pidge, who was quickly cut off once Shiro realized what the drink did. Meanwhile, Keith was getting a fourth goblet, still talking, but not really sure about what.

Then a few Fenwurs came and began taking the paladins aside, begging for stories and introductions. Lance was taken away first along with Allura who drifted off to another group. Then Coran went off to dance a funny little thing that looked like a robot chicken. Then Pidge went off, asking about their technology, and fascinating those around her with her incomprehensible tech speak. Hunk had gone after her, to keep an eye on her because the two goblets of Tekiscky she had drunk had affected her faster and stronger than they had Keith.

“You okay?” Keith looked around to figure out where the voice was coming from before he realized it was Shiro who was right next to him. “I think you should lay off the goblets, Keith.”

“I’m fine,” Keith said with a clear voice. “They make everything soft and light and it’s cool. I’m fine. Look I know exactly what I’m doing.” He turned in a circle and walked in a straight line, then stood in front of Shiro and pressed a finger to his own nose. “I feel great!”

“Right. Well, listen-”

Only Keith wasn’t listening. He was distracted by the Fenwur who was batting her eyes at Lance, giggling at whatever stupid joke he was saying and leaning against him with her own goblet in hand. And what was even worse was how ridiculously bright Lance looked to Keith at that moment. His white armor seemed to glow, and he smile was somehow softer, and Keith swore he could count the freckles from this distance.

“-just stay near-”

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, not having a single clue what Shiro had been saying as he walked away briskly and toward Lance. “Hey, what’s up over here?” he asked, pointedly walking between Lance and the alien to stand on the other side of Lance.

“Oh,” the Fenwur giggled. “Lance was just telling me about all the adventures-”

“Did he tell you the time he got tied to a tree?” Keith blurted. Lance grimaced and nudged him, but Keith wasn’t stopping.

That fourth goblet was catching up, making him dizzy for sure now, and mixing up his feelings. He was angry with Fenwur, but he was acting angry with Lance, and maybe it was because he was angry with Lance. He flitted place to place, flirting with everyone in front of his eyes and it was so simple for him.

“What do you care?” Lance’s voice snapped. Keith grumbled and realized he’d said aloud.

“I mean, he’s not even good at it,” Keith continued. He leaned forward onto the Fenwur. “Oh, you’ve activated my particle barrier,” he mimicked, making his voice comically lower. A few more Fenwur came closer, listening to Keith with the same glazed look in his eyes, and Keith kept reciting the pick up lines he’d heard from Lance. “And then- and then this one, listen.” He cleared his throat and assumed Lance’s relaxed, nonchalant pose. “I mean I’m like the cool, ninja, sharpshooter.”

The Fenwurs laughed, but not in a way that was malicious. It was like they were simply hearing fun stories of their favorite hero, and they kept clasping Lance on the shoulder, smiling at him like he was the sun, and he sure was shining like one.

It hurt to look at him. Whether that was because Keith could see him glowing, or because of the crestfallen look he was giving Keith, or because looking at him reminded Keith of everything he felt and wished he didn’t, he wasn’t sure.

Lance plastered on a smile and excused himself, leaving Keith to watch as he left and joined up with another group.

God, if Keith just hadn’t had these feelings for him, he wouldn’t have felt this weird, competitive urge to show he wasn’t completely fawning over him every hour of the day. He wouldn’t have even spoken if not for that stupid anger he felt because he liked Lance. Like, really, really liked him. In this state, Keith wasn’t afraid to admit he’d daydreamed about dates and first kisses and cliché gifts and confessions. With a straight boy.

A fucking straight boy.

Keith hated himself for it. But it was easier to say he hated Lance.

He wasn’t really aware of when the fifth- probably fifth, Keith had lost count- goblet got into his hands, but he was still chasing down that aftertaste. The next thing he knew, he was trailing behind Lance, wanting to listen to the stories he told the Fenwurs, wanting to hear how Lance remembered things, even if he couldn’t really remember names that well. He liked watching him talk.

Without really realizing it, Keith had been getting closer and closer until their shoulders brushed, and Lance pulled away, giving him an angry look.

“Why the hell do you keep following me? Wanna embarrass me again?”

“It’s calming to be around you,” Keith blurted before he could really think it in the first place. Lance furrowed his eyebrows and stared at Keith. If he stared much longer, Keith might break. He wished Lance could like him back. He wished Lance would’ve never seen him as a rival and had just been his friend and then maybe Keith could’ve told him by now. It would be easier than fighting his entire being to not fuck up what little relationship he had with Lance. “I don’t get how you just talk to people. It’s annoying.”

“Excuse me?” Lance exclaimed. “What the hell, Keith?” Keith shrugged.

It was annoying. Why was Lance so at ease with talking to absolute strangers, and Keith couldn’t do it without being fueled by a mood altering substance and something he couldn’t figure out if it was passion or fury? Why couldn’t Keith be more like him, just comfortable with talking? Then maybe he would’ve been able to talk to him about how he felt or at least he’d have been better at hiding it.

“You’re being such an asshole,” Lance muttered. “Leave me alone.”

As he walked away, Keith wanted to scream. Why couldn’t he do this right? He was torn between a childish mindset of why doesn’t he like me, it’s not fair! and a more logical, anxious mindset of, I can’t even talk to him without fumbling, just leave it alone!

It was aggravating and a futile loop to be thinking in.

But if Lance wanted to be left alone, then fine. Keith would do exactly that.

That was his last thought before his body decided to fall asleep.

***

The next time Keith opened his eyes, he was on a cot in a familiar room from the ship the rebels had given them.

“And he rises,” Pidge said. She was sitting on a cot across from him, sitting up but also apparently in no mood to do more than that. “How much did you drink?”

“I can’t remember,” Keith mumbled. “Ew, wh-why is my tongue fuzzy?”

“It’s not fuzzy, it just feels fuzzy. It goes away after about an hour. The ringing in the ears too. But the burping-” Pidge burped under her breath and grimaced. “The burping hasn’t stopped and it tastes horrible.”

Keith sat up and groaned, feeling unlike himself. He wasn’t in pain, he just felt like his body wasn’t his. And that was uncomfortable. Sure enough, he started burping like Pidge, and it was in fact a disgusting experience.

Shortly after the fuzziness went away and the ringing in his ears subsided, Shiro came into the room with trays of food. “How are you guys feeling?”

“Fine,” Keith said through a burp.

“Food,” Pidge said.

Shiro set one tray down for her and she started eating quickly. “The Fenwurs said the components of their drink might have some leftover effects on you because you’re humans.”

“Wish they’d said that when they gave us the drink,” Keith muttered.

Shiro didn’t smile at that, and Keith wondered if he was really about to get lectured on drinking. He and Shiro both knew it wasn’t the first time Keith drank, and frankly this time it wasn’t even his fault. Still, the look Shiro was giving him made Keith want to hide. He hated when Shiro looked disappointed.

“What do you remember from last night?” he asked Keith. Keith shrugged. “I need you to think, Keith.” His voice was low, so Pidge wouldn’t hear, but she was quite enraptured by her food.

Keith frowned and sighed. “I don’t remember. I remember getting dizzy and… talking to some of the Fenwurs. I… think Lance yelled at me.” Keith felt his stomach twist. That’s right. “He told me to leave him alone.”

“Do you remember why?”

Keith groaned and ran his hand through his hair. “What does it matter? He’s never been particularly fond of me, so big deal.”

It wasn’t the answer Shiro wanted. He pursed his lips and shook his head. He stood up and started to leave, turning back when he reached the door. “When you guys feel better, feel free to come out to the common area.” Then he left.

Pidge finished eating and promptly fell back asleep. Keith on the other hand didn’t like how he felt and didn’t feel comfortable enough to fall asleep, so he figured he may as well go train. Maybe then he’d feel like his body was his again.

And it sort of worked. He had something else to focus on, but his movements were a little slower, mostly because of the fact that his limbs were still shaking off the residual results of the drink. His hands started shaking after a while of exerting himself, so he stopped the routine and decided to see if maybe now he was tired enough to go to bed.

He was tired, but he wasn’t sleepy. So he ended up walking around as usual, and kept walking until it was dinnertime. When he got there, he realized it was the first time he’d see Lance since his drunk moments, and he didn’t like the guilt that he felt. It was possibly more that guilt than his pride that kept Keith from talking to him at all. He answered Shiro and Allura, he commented on Hunk and Pidge’s stories, conversed with Coran. But he kept quiet when Lance spoke. Refused to answer the indirects Lance made at him even when the silence stretched into awkwardness.

It was what Lance wanted wasn’t it? To be left alone. For Keith to leave him alone.

The thing that sucked more was that not talking to Lance was actually proving easier in the sense of Keith’s feelings. It was easier to ignore what he felt for Lance if he wasn’t talking to him, or even looking at him. The fact he had to do that at all sucked, but…. At least until they got to Earth, what was the harm?

That night, Keith felt restless, so he started walking around the ship again, hoping to not think too much about what exactly he’d done the night before or how shitty it felt that he wasn’t talking to Lance, and how shitty it felt that it was easy not to talk to him. He tried to think instead of how long it would take to get to Earth and wondering how to set up defenses for the entire Earth if Pidge’s dad hadn’t taken care of that yet.

And of course, eventually, his mind drifted to Shiro and how one arm was gone. Because of Keith. And even though they all knew Shiro didn’t have an arm, it hurt Keith to him actually without it. Without a prosthetic. Without being able to move it, especially when he saw the confused agitation in Shiro’s eyes when he tried to move his stub only to remember there was nothing there anymore.

Keith felt guilty, and he was feeling guilty about a lot of things now. It was swallowing him up, it was suffocating.

“Keith.” The voice made him panic. He wanted to run, to ignore it. He wanted to get away from Lance. Instead, he froze. He froze and stood there with his eyes wide on the floor, his heart beating so fast it made him dizzy.

Lance put a hand on his shoulder to turn him around which made Keith gasp a little too loudly. “What the hell is going on with you?” Lance demanded. Keith stared up at him, figuring that if he couldn’t get away from him, he could at least stand his ground and refuse to talk. “What, you go from trying to make me feel better one night to making fun of me the next?”

Keith furrowed his eyebrows, stepping back as the memories fought their way to the forefront of his mind. Fenwurs giggling around him as Keith blathered on and on about the way Lance flirted, or the way he talked about Allura, or the way he talked himself up. Lance stepped forward with each step Keith took back; he wasn’t going to let Keith go until he had his answers. But Keith didn’t have them.

“Then I figure, okay he was drunk, maybe he’ll apologize!” Lance snapped, his face full of disbelief and frustration. “But no, you wake up and you pretend I don’t exist! Like I was the one making fun of you in front of an entire planet!”

“You do make fun of me!” Keith blurted, latching on to the first thing that would maybe excuse him.

But Lance scowled and crossed his arms, getting impossibly nearer, and it was making Keith nervous. “Yeah. And I direct it to you. Around friends. Not in front of strangers, and not to hurt your feelings.”

Keith scoffed. “Hurt your feelings?”

“Yes, Keith!” Keith’s eyes widened and he held his breath as he stared at Lance. “Yes, it hurt my feelings. Because I thought we were getting closer, I thought…. I thought things were different now. But you made me a joke. I just-” Lance shut his eyes, and when they opened, they were angry, narrowed. Keith hated how cold those beautiful eyes had become. “Tell me why. Why did you do that to me? Why am I such a joke to you?”

Keith gulped and looked between his eyes and tried to make absolute sure he didn’t even glance at his lips. He was so, so close.

Keith didn’t like talking. It would be easier to just lean down and kiss him and let that speak for him. But it would hurt too much when he was pushed away. He didn’t want to kiss Lance against his will.

“Keith?” Lance’s eyebrows were furrowed in uncertain confusion, and Keith realized that the entire time he was thinking about the pros and cons of what kissing him or not kissing him would entail, he had been staring very obviously down at his lips.

Keith clenched his jaw and looked away, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“You-you can’t?” Lance repeated incredulously. “What the hell does that mean?”

Keith looked at him, straight in the eyes. “I can’t tell you. I don’t know how, and I don’t want to. Just take it all as a compliment and get over it.” Keith shoved past him and made a beeline for his room.

***

Lance hadn’t tried to corner him after that night. In fact, he stayed out of his way. He was quieter and when he was at lunch or dinner, he always looked lost in thought. His eyes would meet Keith’s and they’d both look away immediately like the meeting of their eyes had physically hurt them.

The others talked to Lance to see if he was okay. Keith saw them interact with Lance, and they did just fine. They seemed to have no trouble getting him to smile, to talk. Especially Allura. Lance was nothing but smiles with her.

Keith had no idea how Allura didn’t feel like the luckiest person alive with the way Lance smiled at her. He couldn’t understand how she had fallen for Lotor, the perfect storybook bad guy, but had never even given Lance a chance. Lance who did everything to make her smile, who worked hard every day to get better, who looked at her like she was everything he could ever want. And Keith supposed she was exactly that.

It made him ridiculously jealous and that much more bitter, even if it wasn’t his place. He could handle Allura on her own, and Lance wasn’t talking to him anyway, but seeing them both together always made Keith have to leave the room and be on his own.

It was juvenile, especially in the midst of the war, but… it hurt too much. Somehow it hurt more that they weren’t even together. She was just what Lance wanted, and a reminder that what Lance wanted wasn’t Keith.

One night, after the others had taken to playing games to pass the time and they were all laughing to the point where even Keith had to laugh as an onlooker only to feel a twist in his gut because the guilt insisted he didn’t deserve to laugh with them, he decided to look out at the stars where Lance had been about a week or two before. He sat there and thought of the paladins’ laughter as they played rounds of freeze tag and never have I ever and rock paper scissors. He thought of how wonderful it looked for Lance to be happy. It made Keith happy.

And it made him sad too. Because Keith knew he had no idea how to be someone to make Lance happy. He just knew how to horribly misconstrue his feelings until they came off as hate rather than… whatever it was Keith felt.

He sat there, staring at the stars, wondering how he could possibly fix things, when he heard the light footsteps of someone passing by. Except instead of leaving, the footsteps, the presence, got closer and the person sat down beside him. Lance.

He didn’t talk. Neither of them did. They sat there staring at the stars for a long time before Lance even moved. He only moved to look over at Keith. It terrified him, but Keith eventually mirrored him. Again, they didn’t talk. Just sat there, staring at each other.

After a while, once Keith had taken to simply admiring his features in the starlight instead of panicking and waiting for a fight, Lance spoke.

“I think I figured some stuff out. I don’t know if it’s all right, but… I’m gonna need you to talk to me too so I know if I’m right.” Keith furrowed his eyebrows and shifted his legs to keep them from falling asleep. “Can we do that? Just talk?”

Keith shrugged. “Sure.”

“You have to be honest. Like totally honest. This is just sleepover 101.” Keith frowned and looked at Lance. He was joking with Keith? “I’ll be completely, totally honest if you are.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Keith whispered.

Lance turned his body toward him. “See, you’re already doing it!” He said it so proudly, Keith couldn’t help but smile. Then he erased the smile because he didn’t want Lance to be able to make him smile. Lance waited a moment before his voice got soft again and it made Keith melt a little. “Why don’t you think it’s a good idea to be honest?”

“Because… that’s putting a lot on the line,” he said.

“Our friendship is already on the line.”

Keith didn’t say anything to that. Lance was right. Whether Keith told him the truth or just let it die a secret, their friendship was now very much on the line thanks to Tekiscky. Besides, he didn’t think Lance would be so horrible as to hold his feelings against him. Maybe they could still figure out how to be friends in spite of them.

Keith didn’t have much to lose anymore.

He kept his body facing the stars because it was easier than facing Lance. “I actually think your one-liners are cute.” He gulped and kept his eyes steady on a series of stars twinkling in multiple colors. “And how you’re so confident about who you want to be. When I was making fun of you… it was supposed to be more of a compliment. But I was mad and I was all messy in my head because of the drink and I… just spoke.”

“Why were you mad…?”

Keith clenched his jaw and curled his fingers. “That Fenwur was all giggly with you and… it just bugged me.” Keith took a deep breath and gulped. “Guess I got jealous.”

Lance didn’t say anything, and Keith was too scared to look at him. Here he was confessing his sexuality and his feelings to the person they pertained to. It was horrifying.

“D-do you… like me?” Lance asked softly. Keith felt his breaths stop, he couldn’t even swallow. His entire body was hot and he was… he was scared. “Keith.” Lance touched his hand and Keith gasped, flinching away from the touch. “Keith, you don’t have to be scared of me,” Lance said, reaching out, but not touching him. “Talk to me.”

Keith’s breaths were short and shallow. He slowly turned to look at Lance who was looking at him with pretty blue eyes that sparkled with the reflection of stars. He was so beautiful it wasn’t fair.

“I kind of hate you,” Keith croaked. Lance flinched and pulled his hand back. “Because it’s so easy for you to talk. Because you… you made it so easy to fall for you. But I know you don’t like me, and that’s okay! That’s fine. It just… also sucks.” He scowled and put his chin on his knees. “I really wish Allura liked you as much as you like her because you deserve that. And even though it’d hurt, you’d be happy. I’m so sorry I made fun of you and stopped talking to you and… I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to keep myself from telling you everything. I didn’t want to tell you, I didn’t want you to feel weird. I didn’t want us to be weird.”

“How old were you?” Keith frowned and looked over at Lance. He’d laid himself bare, had let all this truth spill, and Lance… asked a random question? “When you knew you liked guys?”

“Uh. I don’t know. Twelve, I think? Wh-why?”

Lance stared at Keith and took a deep breath that made his shoulders rise and let it out on a trill. “Was it scary? Figuring it out?”

“Um. Not really. I just… it was just something I noticed. I wasn’t really one for friends, and I didn’t have family until Shiro took me in, so…. There wasn’t anyone to tell. When I was with Shiro, he would ask if anyone caught my eyes, but I wasn’t looking for anyone. I just figured it was also fine because Shiro was with his partner, so….”

“Hm. Adam, right?” Keith nodded. “I don’t think I ever really saw it as… an option. The concept… it was cool, and I was happy for people. I thought Shiro was really brave, being the best of the best and happy with Adam. But it wasn’t….” Lance shrugged. “It’s different from liking girls. People can say it’s not, but it is. You gotta fight through all that surface crap that makes you pass it off as envy or admiration or annoyance before you realize… hey, I might… like him.” Keith furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m just saying… it’s easy to know when I like a girl, it’s not scary to notice or admit or act on. With a guy… I’ve always tried to play it off. Claiming I wanted to be the guy not be with him. Claiming I just wished I looked like him. Or saying I just thought the guy was an asshole. Or… saying he’s my number one rival.”

Keith’s head jerked up in shock and he stared at Lance in utter shock. “What?”

Lance took another deep breath. “I was angry with you when you left. I was kind of angry when you came back. God, you just pranced back in like nothing mattered! Like it wasn’t a big difference to be with you, then without you, and now with you again. And I…. I missed you. A lot. I figured it was because we’re friends, or we were starting to be. But then… you came to talk to me, and you were so nice and… I got butterflies. And yeah, I get that with Allura, but there was no dancing around it this time. No way to pass it off as hunger or exhaustion or nervousness for a battle. Just you looking at me and me… wanting you to look at me like that all the time.”

“You’re… you’re saying…. You’re saying you like me?” Keith stammered incredulously.

Lance laughed and groaned, putting his face in his hands for a moment before he looked up at Keith again. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. And it just took a while to know for sure because I kept trying to think it was something else. Then you went and made fun of me and it hurt way more than I wanted it to. And then you stopped talking to me and I would see you, and… it hurt so much.”

Keith looked away ashamedly and wished he had never taken that stupid drink. “Then why are you talking to me now?”

Lance smiled and reached for his hand again. This time, Keith let him. It made a million bolts of electricity course through his body, and he wished he could lace their fingers together instead of just having Lance’s rest on his. “Your reaction the other day. When I tried talking to you. It kind of clued me in. So I thought about it, and then I came to terms with myself. And I figured we should talk about it.”

Keith stared at Lance and looked down at their hands. “But you like Allura.”

“Yeah. I did. I think… I clung onto that a little longer than I should’ve because that made sense. But I’ve been thinking these last few days and….” He shrugged. “I think I accepted my place as Allura’s friend a long time ago. I’m not… I’m not saying you and me should date right now or anything. I just… want you to know that I like you too. And I don’t like how much you’ve been staying away.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t- It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with you, I just… these feelings are so much, and they’re so confusing, that I- it was easier to just stay away, and…. Fuck. I’m so sorry for the things I said on that planet, Lance. I… I promise you, you’re not a joke to me. Not at all. I don’t know how to even start apologizing for all of-”

Lance laughed and cut him off by threading his fingers with Keith’s. “How about I just take it as a compliment now that I know why you were acting so weird? Can’t resist the McClain charm.” Keith snorted and rolled his eyes, but he smiled at Lance. “And we can start over…. Yeah?”

“That would be nice,” Keith whispered. “So… to be clear- I like you and… you like me… romantically?”

Lance nodded, smiling playfully with eyes that made Keith feel like he was swimming in the stars. His eyes were so… so gorgeously blue. Keith couldn’t remember the last time he saw an ocean, but he thought Lance’s eyes were pretty close.

“So what now?” he whispered.

Lance shrugged. “I don’t really know.”

Keith bit his lip and shifted to face Lance. “Can I… try something?” He let go of his lip and let his eyes flicker down to Lance’s, leaving no room for confusion.

Lance chuckled nervously. “Um…. Yeah. But… I’ve never… kissed a guy before.”

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Keith admitted. “So I might be bad at it.”

Lance smiled and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Keith shifted forward, hesitant. Lance’s ocean blue eyes skimmed his face, and he slowly tilted his chin forward. Keith could feel Lance’s breaths on his lips, shaky and hot. Keith licked his lips, then felt Lance’s nose bump with his own gently.

They smiled nervously, and then finally, they closed the space. It was electrifying to feel Lance’s lips on his own. They were soft, warm, and gentle. Keith pulled back slightly and smiled when he saw Lance smiling. He smiled wider when Lance’s hand went up to his cheek, the one with a scar, and he leaned in again, their lips brushing teasingly before coming together again. Lance’s lips parted only slightly, enough to capture Keith’s bottom lip between his own and press a little harder against him.

Keith burst into laughter and nudged his nose against Lance, reminded himself he could run his hand through his hair now, so he did. “This is strange, isn’t it?” Keith said against his lips. “Kissing you. You kissing me.”

“A little. Can I try something else?” Lance asked. Keith nodded, and Lance’s tongue darted out to swipe along Keith’s lip, taking Keith by surprise. “It’s been a while, but… trust me, yeah?”

Keith gulped and leaned into him. Lance kissed him as he had before but this time, Keith felt when Lance parted his lips and his tongue tried to get between Keith’s own. Taking the cue, Keith parted his lip and took a sharp breath when he felt Lance’s tongue slip into his mouth. His heartbeat was pounding like crazy in his ears.

“You okay?” Lance asked nervously, pulling back at the gasp Keith made. Keith nodded and leaned back in, trying to mirror Lance in his kiss. Lance chuckled and tilted Keith’s face with his hand. “Relax. Don’t be so stiff. We can take it easy.” Keith nodded and shut his eyes, feeling Lance’s teeth bit his lip, followed by a swipe of his tongue, and then the tug of Lance sucking gently before letting go and dipping back into Keith’s mouth.

Keith moaned and let his own tongue roam, tasting Lance’s mouth, and trying the same thing with his lip. He bit and tugged lightly, and Lance hummed against him. Keith buried his hands in his hair and tilted his head the other way to kiss him more, to kiss him better.

He wasn’t sure if he was any good at this. But he liked how Lance felt, how Lance tasted. And Lance seemed to be enjoying it just as much, his fingers digging into the nape of his neck to bring him in.

When they finally broke apart, Keith looked at Lance, pleased to see how cloudy his eyes were. “You’re a fast learner, Samurai.” Keith chuckled and bit his lip, looking at the stars. “Hey. Do you think… when all of this war is over, and everything’s calm on Earth… do you want to go on a date with me?”

Keith’s eyes widened. “A date?” Lance nodded. “Y-yeah. Yeah, that’d be nice….” His smile fell a bit. “What do we do until then?” He didn’t want to just kiss Lance for fun at night, but remain friends that had a date in the future. But he didn’t think he could manage not being able to kiss Lance after having finally done it.

Lance kissed his cheek, which took Keith by surprise. He turned his head to look at him and felt his heart melt at the little smile on his face. “I… Well… do you… want to…?”

Keith raised his eyebrows and waited, filled with endearment as Lance turned redder by the second. “Be your boyfriend?”

Lance gulped and smiled sheepishly. “I might be bad at it. But yeah.”

Keith smiled and wondered if this was real. This gorgeous, wonderful, incredible guy… liked him back! And he wanted to take him on dates and be his boyfriend and… hold his hand and kiss him. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. “I would. Very much. I’m assuming you’d want to be mine?” Lance nodded, smiling dorkily. “Could you kiss me again?”

Lance’s smiled that gorgeous smile and leaned into Keith again, making every worry and fear melt away between petal-soft lips and gentle hands.

#klance #fluff #no s7 spoilers #no spoilers #canonverse

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paragonrobits · 5 years

Text

salt on the wound honestly

Thirty years after the end of humanity, a single robot galloped through the ashes.

Through empty buildings, past stray packs of dogs and cats adapating to a world without the people who had made them, there the robot went. He moved on all four legs, a small dinosaur of metal; two short legs, two arms and one grotesquely oversized, a short broad tail, and a face that would have been silly looking until you looked right into the optics.

He stopped beneath a statue, and thought a lot about how all the humans were dead. Every single one of them.

“...What the hell am I supposed to do with my time?” he wondered aloud.

He was the last robot. The humans had killed everyone else like him.

And he had believed in retribution.

He hadn’t expected life to lose its luster after there was no one else to take revenge against.

He’d called himself Toast, after the derogatory term, ‘toaster’, humans had used for his people, but also because of his favored method of killing.

He raised his overlarge arm; his main hand wasn’t particularly delicate, but this thing was a massive bell of a first, all brutish claws and power cores, flame pulsing out of air with even a tiny activation. He thought of humans, and dull, bitteer resentment gushed out of him, until the boredom and the spite faded away, even the lingering sense of ‘fuck what am I supposed to do now’, all of that drowned, there was nothing for it but the hate.

Some things can reach an intensity so serious that they become almost artful, no matter how terrible they are, and his hatred was almost an epic unto itself.

Hate became force, became fire.

The blast was visible from orbit.

Bits of lead rained down, and Toast beamed happily with his bullet-shaped snout of a face. He walked over the molten slag pile that remained of the statue, and he declared, “Okay, new plan. Humans are all dead, sooooo... I’ll kill EVERY SINGLE SIGN THEY EVER EXISTED! That’ll screw over them post-mortem. Yeah. That’ll show the bastards. That’ll show them all?”

Then what will you do once you’ev dne that? asked a teeny, tiny angelic version of himself, popping up onto his shoulder.

Toast flicked him away and he vanished in a puff of logic. “Screw you, voice of my conscience.”

“You can’t just go around destroying every remnant of sapient life on this planet! Think of the historical atrocity you’re committing! What of life to come after us!? Not robots, we both know you’re not even slightly competent enough to build new robots.”

“Eh. I’ll deal with that later. Now stop talking, Imaginary Me Voice! ...Besides. Who gives a crap about human junk going up in flames?”

Meanwhile.

Yes, in the meantime, far above the clouds...

A single small ship hovered above the ruins of Earth, one of the ships spread throughout the multiverse with the sad purpose of bearing witness to the dead.

And within that ship, a chitinous, hulking horror was just doing a spit take.

“That guy is doing WHAT?!” the alien shrieked, and the ship immediately dove straight down towards Earth, to knock that nonsense off right the hell now.

#queued #my writing #fics #robots #my OCs #toast (OC)

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soy-em · 6 years

Note

Hi! Thank you so much for wincest rec list! I wonder if you can suggest some really cool hurt/comfort fics (Worth the price was once my favourite, maybe there is something new like that?)

Em’s Wincest & Gen Hurt/Comfort Recs

Hey! Here are some lovely Hurt/Comfort recs, hope you like them! Most are Wincest but there are a couple of Gen fics in there too.

A hundred corridors by Lyryk, 6k, NC17

Summary: First time, set during S7 when Sam is hallucinating Lucifer.

My comments: Dean looking after Sam when Sam needs it most. This fic is beautiful.

Poison arms around you by Invictusimpala, 1k, G

Summary: Dean’s struggling with his feelings for Sam, and so he pushes his brother away. He makes it so they have separate beds, he pretends not to like cuddling, and he makes sure Sam stops touching him until he can figure out what he’s feeling and how to deal with it. But as it turns out, he doesn’t have to as much as he thought he would.

My comments: So sweet.

Sutures by Sixth, 1k, Teen

Summary: After a hunt gone awry, Dean patches up his brother just like always. It doesn’t quite turn out the way it normally does, though.

My comments: Lovely first time fic

You have one saved message by killabeez, 3k, Teen

Summary: A tag to episode 6.18, “Frontierland,” indirectly. Sam gets a new smart phone.

My comments: Its always, always important to try and fix that voicemail, and this fic does it beautifully.

Monumentally stupid by strive2behappy, 6k, NC17

Summary: Sam’s hurt both hands, so Dean has to shave him. Having Dean that close to him, focused with that little concentrating frown, breath warm on his face, Dean’s competent hands tilting his head and angling him exactly the way he wants him – well, Sam’s not doing too well right now pretending he’s not attracted to his brother. And he’s only wearing boxers, Dean’s bound to notice. Dean’s going to have him all figured out.

My comments: this is one of my favourite fics of all time.

Signs of Life by @wetsammywinchester T, 2k

Summary: Dean can’t leave, he can’t sleep, because Sam could just slip away. Again.

My comments: Red Meat was the epitome of Winchester hurt/comfort and this deals fantastically with the aftermath.

Sure as the stars by @dollyluxe, T, 4k

Summary: Dean knew that letting Sam walk home from school alone was a bad idea.

My comments: Dean’s frantic worry for Sam in this fic is done so well that it stuck with me long after I’d read it.

Memory is a fickle siren song by @sleepypercy 13k, NC17

Summary: Sam’s trying to pretend he’s getting by, that he doesn’t feel guilty for walking out on his family to go to college, when Dean shows up with no memory of who he is or that they’re even brothers.

Sam’s just gotta take care of his brother until John gets there, but he didn’t anticipate Dean deciding to push past boundaries in the meantime.

My comments: this is from this year’s SPN_J2 Xmas and its really good - featuring Sam caring for a Dean whose lost his memories (but not his sense of self) and lots of angst.

Hit the ground crawling by johnny_vrm, 28k, NC17,

Summary: After Sam pulls Dean out of Hell, Dean stops talking. ¶ It takes a week for Sam to convince Dean to open his mouth so Sam can check that his tongue hasn’t been cut out. It takes two weeks for Sam to accept that Dean really isn’t talking. Then it takes a week of silence, the two of them sitting in the Impala like ventriloquist dummies, sitting in motel rooms like human taxidermy, before Sam decides to start talking for the both of them.

My comments: this is really old but I only read it this week. Its an amazing exploration of what would have happened had Sam (not Cas) rescued Dean from hell and the aftermath of Dean’s trauma. Excellent.

I’m the big spoon by @majesticduxk 1k, M

Summary: Dean wants to be the big spoon once in his life. Sam indulges him. But then Dean starts fidgeting and his back is uncomfortable cold and Sam’s bangs end up in his nose. Finally Sam has enough and manhandles them over again. Dean is grumpy, but enjoys it nonetheless.

My comments: ok, so this isn’t quite hurt/comfort, it’s mostly just comfort. Sam comforting Dean and telling him that he doesn’t need to always be the protective big brother is so sweet that I can’t not include it. And it has the sweetest and most beautiful artwork to go with it!

I’m also gonna take the chance to rec a couple of my own:

The Golden State , M, 20k

Summary: A year after Sam leaves for Stanford, the Reckoning happens. Angels and demons descend to earth and destroy much of the planet in an endless war. Dean survives, living with Bobby in the survivor city of Sioux Falls, but he never forgets his missing little brother. Finally, after the world has stabilised a little, he decides it’s time to undertake the dangerous trip to California and try to find Sam.He finds his little brother in a settlement on the Californian coast, but all is not well with Sam, who is in an abusive relationship with the Boss, the settlement’s shady leader. Dean has to rescue Sam so that they can rebuild their lives in the safety of Sioux Falls, but the Boss is not going to let Sam leave easily. And Dean’s not even sure that Sam wants to leave…

Stone number one, G, 1k

Summary: Pressing on his scar helps Sam to cope with Lucifer’s presence, but not nearly as much as being near Dean helps.

Not forgotten, T, 1k

Sam doesn’t really like water any more.

Nothing under the umbrella, T, 1k

Sam hates it, the lurching, aching feeling of disorientation when Dean is hurt

That’s all I’ve got for now, but like I said, check out @spnlittlebro for lots and lots of hurt!Sam.

#my fic recs #wincest #wincest fic recs #asks #anon asks #fic recs

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robininthelabyrinth · 6 years

Text

Countless Roads - Chapter 36

Fic: Countless Roads - Chapter 36 - Ao3

Fandom: Flash, Legends Pairing: Gen, Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, others

Summary: Due to a family curse (which some call a gift), Leonard Snart has more life than he knows what to do with – and that gives him the ability to see, speak to, and even share with the various ghosts that are always surrounding him.

Sure, said curse also means he’s going to die sooner rather than later, just like his mother, but in the meantime Len has no intention of letting superheroes, time travelers, a surprisingly charming pyromaniac, and a lot of ghosts get in the way of him having a nice, successful career as a professional thief.

———————————————————————————

“I was being a prideful self-absorbed dumbass and I’m gonna stop with that,” Len says, once everyone else has gone – most of them on Len's instructions, while Rip decided to continue to FBI his way around town, hoping that, as the only other person Savage might recognize, he could serve as an additional means of heightening Savage’s paranoia – and they’re alone in his room.

“I really hope Gideon records the contents of our rooms,” Mick says, crossing his arms and smirking. “I want photo-visual evidence of that.”

Len rolls his eyes. “I’ll say it in front of a camera, just for you.”

“You don’t need to,” Mick says, sobering, his smirk falling away. “I wasn’t acting all too great myself.”

Len frowns. “Being upset at me being controlling and not listening to you is pretty fair,” he points out.

“I knew I shouldn’t have promised anything to the time puppies without consulting you first,” Mick says. “I knew it, and I did it anyway, and I felt bad about doing it, so when you called me out on it, I was already on the defensive and I lashed out at you. I shouldn't have.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it ain’t,” Mick says. “You weren’t yourself.”

“I was acting like an asshole,” Len says humorlessly. “Not exactly that out of character.”

“That type of asshole is out of character for you,” Mick says. “Trust me, I know your type of asshole, and it ain’t like that. Also, you do know I don’t really hold you saving my ass against you, right?”

“Sure seemed like you did.”

“I was angry at myself for being an asshole,” Mick says. “And then at you for not telling me about the necromancer. You know I hate it when you leave stuff out.”

“I know,” Len says. “And I’m gonna try to stop with that. Can't promise I'll always succeed - but I'll try.”

“Good,” Mick says firmly. “But that still doesn’t mean I should be hitting below the belt. I’ve never once thought of our relationship as unequal, okay? You’re usually pretty good at treating me like I’m a real live person.”

“I don’t see you as different,” Len starts, then pauses. “No, that’s not right. I do. You are different. You’re the one person who’s never left me, never got used against me, never had to worry about. The one person that I thought for the longest time was safe. You couldn’t get hurt, you couldn’t die – that was my bedrock.”

“And then Cabrera happened.”

“And then Cabrera happened,” Len agrees. “You were right the first time about it. The whole thing - it knocked me loose a bit, made me paranoid. My dad hurt me, sure, whatever, it was horrifying but I'm pretty used to him pulling new horrifying things out of his hat, but Cabrera threatened you, and that freaked me out. It shook me.”

“And then you find out the immortal asshole we got recruited to fight is another medium, just like Cabrera, and you freak out even more,” Mick says, nodding. “I get it. S’no excuse for how you’ve been acting, but I get it.”

“I’ll do better,” Len says, thinking of Kendra’s little dust-up with Ray. No point to it at all, but for pride and the desire to keep the ones you care for safe. Nasty combination, and Len has it all in spades. He can't let that get between them, though. He can't.

“I will, too,” Mick says. “Specifically in noticing when you’re not in a headspace for a fight. What happened?”

“What do you mean? I’ve told you all of it.”

“You’ve given me some details, yeah, but – Lenny –” Len’s not sure whether to be relieved or concerned that they’ve moved into ‘Lenny’ territory. “– I shouldn’t have picked a fight when you were still in shock.”

“I wasn’t!”

“I checked with Gideon once I noticed,” Mick says. “You definitely were.”

That – would actually explain that weird distance that'd been surrounding him, which had slowly started to fade until he’d finally cracked through the ice to be able to feel things like proper emotions again.

Len’s been in shock before, but it’s been a while, and it’s usually when he’s been shot. It'd occurred to him a few times that it might be it, but he'd always dismissed it: he was sound in body, how could he be in shock?

Apparently, he could be.

“Must’ve been a side-effect of meeting the angel,” Len says, frowning. It’s the only thing it could’ve been – sure, he’d had escalating paranoia issues, but he’d been managing them (however badly) up until then.

“Yeeeeeah, about that,” Mick says, plopping himself down on the bed, looking about as relieved as Len feels to have gotten the touchy-feely portion of the conversation over with. “What’d you mean, angel? You ain’t the religious type, and you don’t do that much in terms of metaphor usually.”

“Well, you know how we were in deep space and I kept having a really loud ringing in my ears?”

“Yeah?”

“Stars.”

“…stars?”

“Yep. Stars. Singing. Actually, more like the ghosts of stars, apparently,” Len says. “Bright light, blue eyes, wings – maybe, I’m not sure – anyway, the ghost of a star that used to live in the place we went came to visit me.”

Mick blinks. His face is doing that thing where he can’t decide what he’s feeling or even if he’s feeling anything because he’s just so bewildered by what he just heard.

“It was weird,” Len adds.

“A ghost. Of a star?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know it was a thing either.”

"A star."

"You got it."

"A ghost of a - and it looks like an angel?"

"Yeah."

“The fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“To the angel, Len?!”

“He said Ezekiel did it, too!” Len protests.

“Ezekiel as in Old Testament Ezekiel?”

“The one who saw angels, yeah,” Len says, rubbing at his face a bit. He had been doing such a good job of ignoring the comparison up until now, too...

“…well,” Mick says, because really, what else is there to say? “Huh. Well then.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s really something.”

“Agreed.”

“Okay, no, now I've gotta ask. How the hell did a guy from thousands of years ago see a ghost of a star, though?” Mick asks. “Even assuming he was like you, some ancestor of yours, it still doesn't make sense. He didn’t have space travel! So how - and why - was there an angel hanging around for him to see it?”

Len feels his face goes very solemn even as his belly seizes with the old familiar anticipatory glee.

“Well, Mick,” he says with a straight a face as he can manage. “I guess the star must’ve been shooting by.”

“Shooting – goddamnit, Len, this is no time for puns.”

“I dunno, I thought that one was out of this world.”

“Len –”

“Okay, okay, so I didn’t planet out all that well; I’ll do better next time.”

“Your puns suck worse than a black hole, you dumbass.”

Len cracks a grin. That was a good one. “ I knew I married you for a reason.”

Mick smirks back. “Oh, it’s for the puns, is it?”

“Entirely,” Len agrees, looking at Mick contemplatively. He'd love to spend a bit of quality time reestablishing important marital bonds, but... “Want to bet on whether the rest of the team has managed to get in trouble yet?”

Mick rolls his eyes. “That’s a sucker’s bet.”

And, almost as if it'd been waiting for its cue, there’s a buzz on their comms – the ones Cisco gave them back in Central, meaning it was one of the old Team Flash that'd been put on their team: Jax, probably, or maybe Stein.

Len and Mick look at each other, long-suffering.

“Ten to one it’s trouble,” Mick says with a groan. Len agrees, but clicks it on anyway.

It turns out to be Stein.

“What happened?” Len asks. "What's the emergency?"

“Ah - while I understand why you might think that, in fact, nothing out of the ordinary is happening,” Stein says. “The plan is proceeding apace. We are now nearing Nanda Parbat, where Jefferson and I will be enacting our portion of the plan. Before we arrived, however, I stole away for a moment to call you.”

Len blinks. If they’re not in trouble, then what…?

“I wanted to apologize to Mr. Snart,” Stein says. “For judging him overly hastily, particularly given my knowledge of him.”

“Uh, thanks?” Len says. “I think? I mean, I’m used to it – thief, murderer, that sort of thing…”

“Not that,” Stein says. “It was made very clear to me – by Jefferson, among others – that despite your reputation, you were a good man to have on our side: intelligent, cunning, and capable. I trusted in that reputation. And yet, when you and Mr. Rory went off to have your fight in the forest and only Mr. Snart returned – I assumed the worst.”

Len and Mick share bewildered looks.

“Professor,” Mick says gently. “You – you have been told that I’m dead, right?”

“I know that,” Stein says, clearly rolling his eyes so hard it was almost audible. “Mr. Allen and his friends informed me, and Jefferson confirmed it after our bonding - and, if you recall, I did happen to witness that battle on Earth-2. I most assuredly believe in it. Indeed, however bizarre I might find it, it’s not exactly outside the realm of the teachings of Judaism – I was trained as rabbi, you know –”

“Told you it was kosher,” Len tells Mick smugly.

“No, it’s – that’s not – we’re getting away from the point here. As I was saying, hen Mr. Jefferson joined our triad, and indeed, when Mr. Snart became allied with Team Flash, I was in fact informed of Mr. Snart’s abilities and your particular iteration thereof, Mr. Rory. Despite that, I assumed that Mr. Snart had, in your fury at each other…ah…well…to be frank, Mr. Snart, I assumed that you had somehow banished Mr. Rory.”

“Oh,” Len says blankly. “I mean, I don’t really ‘banish’ ghosts the way that mediums do, all circles and spells and stuff, but I do sometimes send them away – still, that would have been a shitty thing to do in the middle of a forest in who-knows-what-era…wait. Has that been why everyone’s been so weird around me? Because they assumed I did something to Mick?”

"The others -" Stein begins.

“Len wouldn’t do something like that,” Mick objects, overriding him. "He ain't like that."

Len winces. Technically, in 2046, he had done exactly something like that, albeit with good intentions – and you know what they say about good intentions –

“Wait, hold up another sec,” he says, thinking back. “Was - was that why Rip apologized?! Because he thought he’d encouraged me to go – to Mick – for this stupid mission’s sake?!” He stands up. “You know what, I’m gonna –”

Mick grabs Len’s arm. “Down, Lenny,” he says sternly. “Let’s finish this whole business with the poltergeist kids first.”

Len grumbles, but concedes and sits back down. “Don’t worry about it, Stein,” he says into the comm, where Stein had been waiting in worried silence. “We haven’t worked together all that long and you don’t have personal experience with me; you mostly know what you read in the papers, which ain't exactly complimentary, and beyond that you’ve just got Jax’s word for it. Makes sense you’d make a hasty leap.”

“I appreciate your understanding,” Stein says.

“In the future, though – I don’t turn on crew that don’t turn on me, and you’re crew. Especially since you’ve got Jax in your bond. So if you’ve got any questions, just come talk to me direct; I won’t take offense. And good luck on your mission.”

"Seconded, Professor," Mick adds.

“I will,” Stein says warmly. “And thank you both.”

He clicks off.

“Well, no trouble in that camp,” Len tells Mick, shaking his head. He can't believe that anyone who knows him would think that, but he guesses that this crew hasn't really had a good chance to get to know him. And he has been acting pretty out of character... “Let’s go see what trouble everyone else is up to.”

Surprisingly little, it turns out: Gideon reports that Kendra and Ray have taken great care to always be seen in public areas, fighting, and that Savage has been repeatedly spotted all but stalking them – specifically Kendra – quite obviously; people have already started to notice, so much so that Ray’s starting to be worried that if they don’t deal with the problem soon, the nosy neighbors might start the ruckus themselves.

Gideon also reports that Rip is pulling off an increasingly credible FBI agent, and connect them to his comms for them to listen in. Turns out he even took the cue from Len’s earlier comment to spin a story about being undercover in the Cold War and the British accent just sticking. The sheriff had been pretty wowed by that.

Of course, then he asked what was the deal with someone like Len – using an entirely unnecessary slur, of course – working for the FBI.

“He’s one of our informants,” Rip lies.

“Making him feel better by giving him a badge,” the sheriff says, nodding. “Got it. They've started getting all uppity, nowadays, won't do anything unless they feel catered to...”

Rip suddenly gets a lot of cooperation, but he spends the entire time sounding like he’s smelled something bad.

It does a surprising amount to cheer Len up, actually. Okay, Rip might sometimes be an idiot captain making incredibly stupid assumptions sometimes, but he’s part of Len’s crew, and he means well - his apology and acknowledgement from earlier showed it. That counts for something.

Len supposes he can forgive him, if only because Mick is laughing quite so hard about it.

“I do so love Gideon’s comms,” Len says happily once Rip is out of earshot of the Sheriff. “Gideon, tell me I can have a recording of that?”

“Captured, Mr. Snart. Would you like me to produce a hard copy file for you?”

“Nah, digital's fine. Email it to me; I want to treasure Rip's Very First Experience With Systemic Racism forever.”

“Your sense of humor is infantile," Mick says.

“Says the guy on the floor.”

“I’m laughing at your expressions. Better than a comedy show.”

“Uh-huh. I believe you.”

“You know, I always appreciated that in a partner: the love, the trust, the lack of condescending assholery…”

"And yet you stick by me. Have you checked your own sense of humor recently?"

“Listen, you…” Mick says with a smirk, starting to reach for Len.

The comms crackle back to life just when it was starting to get interesting. "We've got the Lazarus water!" Jax exclaims. "Also, the League may or may not think I'm a phoenix. Or an angel. Or whatever they call firebird-angel-things here. I made cawing noises, it was fun."

"Congrats," Len says, eyes suddenly drawn by instinct to one of the other screens where Gideon is showing the locations of the various crew members on a map, along with dots to signify other people. "Come back, double-quick. I think Savage is getting tired of waiting."

"On it, boss."

"Mick, look," Len says, gesturing at the screen.

"How did Haircut and Chickadee end up getting lured over to the sanitarium past nightfall?" Mick demands. "She decide she wanted to go up against Savage alone after all?"

"Possible," Len says, jabbing at the screen to try to get it to go to video. Luckily, Ray had been into the whole button cam idea, so there was one. "Huh, nope. Looks they have an escort. An armed escort."

"Is that Savage? No – it’s that sheriff."

“Yep,” Len says.

"He's been doing a lot of escorting for Savage," Mick says darkly.

"That may be because one of the afflicted boys is his son," Gideon says.

"Didn't know that, but it makes sense. Savage probably told him about the experiments but made it out like they were a cure, not the disease," Len says, nodding. He activates the comms. "Rip, plan's off. Ray and Kendra are being dragged into the sanitarium. Meet you there?"

"I'll be there at once," Rip replies. "Bring the Waverider; we may need her."

The comms click off. Len blinks. "He knows we can't drive, right?"

"I can instruct you, Mr. Snart," Gideon says.

"Teach Mick," Len says. "I don't drive."

With Mick in the Captain's seat – Len's gotta say, he likes the look on him, like a very muscular Kirk or Sisko, and obviously some Picard in the haircut – they land in the parking lot by the sanitarium quickly enough.

Ray and Kendra have started stalling.

"I don't know what your problem is," Kendra says, her voice audible over the comms. "You come out of nowhere – force me and my husband here – and for no reason!"

"No reason?" Savage laughs. "My dear Chay-Ara, we are surely beyond that now?"

"I don't know who this Chay-Ara is," Ray says, best Brad Majors impression firmly intact. "But don't you dare talk to my wife that way!"

"I must admit, you are something of a surprise," Savage says. "I was expecting – shall we say – another."

"We don't know what you're talking about," Kendra insists.

"Don't you?" Savage asks. "Let us look in your purse, here –"

"Don't you dare – oh!" There's the sound of a slap.

"You bastard," Ray says with real anger. "How dare you hit her?!"

"That was ill-mannered of you, sheriff," Savage says, his voice slick. "I would advise you not to repeat the action – and to apologize to the lady."

"But –"

"Now," Savage says, his voice pointed.

"Sorry," the sheriff says, clearly unrepentant but cowed by Savage.

Len and Mick creep closer to the room, turning the corner and moving as silently as they can. They can now see the room – Ray is handcuffed to a chair, Kendra is on the ground clutching her cheek, Savage is holding her purse and glaring at the sheriff.

Kendra lunges for her purse, only for Savage to grab her by the shoulder and throw her into the table.

"Looking for this?" he laughs, pulling out the dagger. "You thought you could come here with this false marriage, these false smiles, and think I would not realize you had remembered yourself? Even after my dagger goes missing? You must think me a fool, Chay-Ara."

"Nah, just moderately stupid," Len says and fires the cold gun.

Savage dodges, and the cold beam freezes only his shoulder, which he takes with a grunt.

"Sorry to disrupt the party," Mick says, and steps forward with his heat gun, aiming at the sheriff, who is trying to draw his gun.

He manages it, only to promptly drop it, yowling, in the face of a blast from Mick's heat gun. Metal is a very good conductor of heat.

"Boys!" Savage calls. "To me!"

And then through the door burst the – Len doesn't know what to call them. Half-lives, poltergeists in the bodies of the living. Boys with their eyes whited out and glowing, faces twisted in snarls of rage, unspeaking, angry.

"Oh, let me at one!" Loraine calls, darting forward. Len has only empowered her a little; she's nowhere near the visual spectrum, but it makes the boy flinch back anyway.

Len grins.

The kids can see the ghosts.

"Come here," Len says, his voice echoing, a single command.

And they come. Loraine's ancestors, her tribe and their mortal enemies, those who more recently died – accidents and murders and suicides – natural deaths come too quickly –

And, of course, the ghosts of the boys' victims.

That certainly gets them to flinch, faces twisting in terror, hands and invisible ripping claws going wide, hitting walls, beds, chairs, but missing people.

"And what are you?" Savage says, his eyes alight, fixed on Len, intent. "Something old, perhaps? Or something new?"

"Something borrowed, something blue," Len says. "Don't you know Hollywood-style wedding traditions?"

He fires his gun again.

Savage dodges again, more successfully this time, and throws a knife that he's pulled from somewhere. And then he tears off that lab coat of his, revealing the answer: he's wearing what look like dozens of them.

Len ducks behind a ripped-up table, pushing it onto its side just in time for two of Savage's knives to embed themselves into where he last was.

"Ray! Kendra!"

"I have the dagger!" she shouts.

"You'll never have a chance to use it, my dear," Savage calls, and throws one of his knives, knocking the dagger out of her hand.

Then he aims at Ray, who's shrinking down, and catches him halfway through the process, knocking him head over heels.

"Ray!" Kendra shouts, diving for the dagger and snatching it up again, but turning helplessly towards Ray instead of rushing at Savage.

"Boys, get him!" Savage orders.

Two of the boys leap forward, eyes intent, hands outstretched –

"Not today, suckers," Sara says from the door, and hits them with a spray from a water gun.

The boys stagger back, shrieking, but even as Len watches, the white light fades out of their eyes. Their bodies swell with life – real life – their spirits, disjointedly put back the wrong way, turning and slipping home, clicking back into place like puzzle pieces.

Damn, but Len loves to be right.

"Dad?" one of the boys says, looking at the sheriff, still nursing his burnt hand. "Dad!"

"Son –"

They embrace.

"You're still a racist dickbag," Kendra tells him, then looks around. Sara is spraying the water on the remaining boys. "Damnit, no! Where'd Savage go?"

"Out the window," Mick says grimly, picking himself up. "He knocked me back – nearly got a knife in my gun – and went out. Want me to follow?"

Len shakes his head. Not alone, definitely not.

Mick shrugs, having already clearly assumed that that would be the answer.

"Great," Kendra says, looking disappointed. "So we're back where we started."

Ray resizes himself and touches her shoulder. "We stopped the murders, and we've got the dagger now," he reminds her. "And, hey – you got to see Savage run from you. Not bad, huh?"

Kendra smiles. "That part was pretty good."

"It's of no matter," Rip says, standing at the door. "We will get him the next time. Savage's reaction here shows that the plan we were working with had a fair chance of being successful – he was overconfident and foolish." He smiles. "He got lucky this time. Next time, he won't."

"You bet your ass he won't," Mick growls.

"Oh, Mick," Kendra laughs. "The journey hasn't been the same without you."

"Indeed," Rip says dryly. "In fact, I was wondering if you'd explain that."

"Nothing to explain," Mick says, shrugging.

"You just don't like talking," Jax tells him with a laugh.

They're all starting to relax, so naturally that's when one of the ghosts Len called up from the sanitarium says, "A second ship is approaching."

Len and Mick both straighten up, alarmed.

"Gideon, report. Is someone coming?" Len asks.

No reply.

"Something's wrong with Gideon," Mick says.

"What?!" Rip exclaims, and they all rush out.

It's good that they do, too, because they hit the Stormtroopers Three dead on, trying to board the Waverider.

Len hoists his gun and bares his teeth.

He's starting to get really sick of these assholes.

Luckily, repelling the Stormtroopers Three from the Waverider turns out not to be that bad. Kendra takes wing, dagger in hand, and dives at them from above, while Len and Mick use their guns to scare them off the ship. With Sara, Ray and Rip covering their retreat, it’s easy enough to keep the Three at bay while they’re backing onto the Waverider, and then Gideon gets them off the ground.

“They’re no Savage, that’s for sure,” Ray says with pleasure as the Waverider makes the jump, soaring into the green of the time stream.

“Indeed,” Rip says. “I think that we –”

A blast shook the ship.

“What the hell?” Jax demands, running to the window. “It’s – guys, it’s those assholes again!”

“Already?” Kendra exclaims.

“Gideon, evade!” Rip exclaims. “Everyone, strap in, we’ll fire on them, and then we’ll do a quick series of jumps to make sure they can’t follow us further –”

Len was under the impression that time-jumping was nauseating. That has nothing on a lot of time-jumping in a short sequence of time.

“I hate this,” Mick moans.

He has no place to complain - it isn't going to kill him, he's already dead. Len's stomach, on the other hand, might decide that this is the fatal blow...

“I think we’ve lost them, Captain,” Gideon reports.

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

“Very well,” Rip says. “Gideon, please put in the following coordinates –”

“Wait, where are we going now?” Sara asks.

“A small town called Salvation, in South Dakota,” Rip says. “In, ah, 1871.”

Everybody stares at him.

"Remind me again, Rip, why do we think Savage will be in the Wild West?" Len drawls. "Seemed like he was a fair bit more of an urban kinda a guy, at least to my eyes."

"At the moment, it's not Savage that's the problem," Rip says. "It's the Hunters."

It takes a minute for everyone to realize who he's talking about.

"The Stormtroopers Three?" Jax asks.

"Larry, Curly and Moe?" Mick adds.

"We're running from them?" Sara asks indignantly. "We just kicked their asses! Twice!"

"But they disabled our shields before we arrived," Rip says darkly. "A few more solid hits, and they'll shatter. We cannot afford a direct engagement until they are repaired, and the fact that they were able to catch up to us so quickly suggests that they've obtained updated technology from the Time Masters which we will need to account for."

"And the Wild West?" Len asks again. "Why there?"

"It's a time pocket," Rip says. "We'll be safe from detection there."

He's treated to a handful of skeptical looks, but that's what he deserves, given that he'd previously been talking about how safe the time stream was. Even after the first time the Stormtroopers Three had very nearly caught them in the time stream after their first attack failed...

"They weren’t aiming to get to us so quickly before, even without the tech, and they were really shooting to kill this time," Mick says. "Why'd they change it up now?"

"The bounty on our heads may have been changed from alive to dead or alive," Rip says. "Going to the time pocket will help us rest and recover.” He scowls at them. “Especially since certain people on this crew have rejected my other proposal for where to go.”

“We’re still not going to the future to murder baby Hitler,” Ray says. “We all agreed. Every one of us, right before we went to the ‘50s. We’d be sorry, but – we’re really not.”

“Not a one of us signed up for child murder,” Kendra agrees.

“You wouldn’t be –” Rip starts.

“We’re not aiding and abetting child murder either, Rip,” Sara says. “The vote was unanimous against you. Drop it already.”

“We could just use the time period to attack Savage, as we know he’s there,” Rip says stiffly.

“Except you’ve already explained about the extensive defenses Kasnia has surrounding its leader,” Stein says. “Savage would never give us the opportunity, which would mean that you would propose returning to your original plan. I'm afraid we must continue to object, Captain Hunter.”

“Remember, Rip – teamwork means working together,” Jax reminds him. “Besides, not even you’re sure whether you could actually do the kid in.”

Rip makes a face, not disagreeing. He's not really a very good killer, not personally, and by now they all know it. “Very well, I concede the argument. That doesn’t change the fact that we need to go in for repairs somewhere, and the time pocket in Salvation is likely the best place for it. Please strap yourselves down or return to your rooms; this jump will be particularly bumpy."

Mick glances at Len and jerks his head to their room, clearly wanting to talk about something. Len nods and follows.

"You gonna be okay?" Mick asks once they're alone.

Len frowns at him. "I should think so," he says. "We ain't going up against Savage this time, just going to go to ground for a bit, and I hardly think we'll run into any necromancers or mediums or angels there."

"I was more thinking about regular run-of-the-mill ghosts," Mick says dryly. "1871 ain't too far back from 1865, you know, and a hell of a lot of Civil War vets went out west, and probably took their ghosts with 'em."

Len purses his lips. That’s a good point. "We'll warn Kendra and Jax about that, too; the living are probably just as racist as the dead. You think there'll be a lot of ghosts? Surely South Dakota’s too far out."

"I think the Civil War rousted up a lot of unquiet dead," Mick says. "Wars always do. You shoulda seen the years right after World War II."

Len makes a face. It's been months and months since his last serious unquiet dead attack; he's gotten powerful enough to draw friendlies to his side almost automatically, and he barely has to remember to give them enough to make them happy. But yeah, the Civil War – he can see that giving rise to a lot of very angry, very unpleasant ghosts.

"How do you want to handle, then?" he asks. "Want me to stay behind on the ship?"

Mick considers it, and Len lets him. He's excited to see the Wild West, but he's none too interested in the Civil War. American media paints them so differently that he'd forgotten they happened at basically same time.

"No, I don't think that'll be necessary," Mick finally says, nodding. "I'm pretty good at watching your ass –"

"You're my husband; I should hope so," Len quips.

"Mind out of the gutter, boss; I'm being serious. I think it'll be okay, but maybe you ought to take extra care in getting some friendlies right off the bat, more than usual, I mean."

Len nods. "Fair. You know, I hadn't really noticed it until I was repelling ghosts in the ‘50s – all except Loraine – but I'm pretty sure I used to be a lot better at remembering their names. The ghosts, I mean. You know, knowing something about 'em, knowing what it is they want, that sorta thing. Now I barely even ask 'em what they're called. Really ought to fix that."

Mick looks amused. "You do that, boss."

"What?" Len protests. "It's a thing, it's been happening."

"Of course it's been happening, boss," Mick says. "There are more ghosts."

"So?"

"So a general's a lot less likely to be on one-on-one terms with his men than a sergeant is, that's all I'm saying."

"I'm trying to avoid too much – generalship. Remember?" Len reminds Mick.

"Oh, I remember," Mick says. "I still want at least one friendly watching your back in the West."

"I'll look for one, or better yet, more than one," Len says, still somewhat annoyed by Mick's blithe dismissal of the issue. Sure, Len isn't always the best with names – he has some face-name matching issues that he tends to cover with nicknames, just like Mick does - but he used to at least make an effort with the ghosts. He always felt it was the least he could do, what with him asking them for favors immediately thereafter.

He quietly resolves to do better.

Of course, then they change into era-appropriate gear (flintlocks! Be still Len's grew-up-down-the-street-from-a-historical-reenactment-ground heart!) and go out into the streets and he is promptly flooded with ghosts coming to take a gawk at him.

"Uh, hi," Len says to them. "What're your names?"

"SarahGraceTheordoreReenaMacyWhiteDoeJamesLon-"

Len throws up a hand to stem the tide.

Mick is sniggering.

Len glares at him, then looks at the ghosts. "Uh, you, Quaker-woman and, uh, you, uh – what tribe are you?"

"I am of the Cheyenne River Sioux tribe," the man says. "But I was baptized James."

"...is that your preferred name?"

The guy looks taken aback. "It will do," he says. “Calling me Diving Hawk just makes me think my mother is cross with me.”

"Well, wouldn’t want that. Whatever floats your boat. Quaker-woman?"

"Grace," she says. "And I’m no Quaker. I'm a follower of Joseph Smith."

"All right, then," Len says, wondering why that sounds familiar. And why Mick's sniggers have intensified. "Can you two be my go-betweens with the others?"

"We would be delighted to," Grace says. She's only a moderately powerful ghost, a weaker poltergeist, though she has a look about her that makes Len think she's probably one of his more violent friendlies. "What would you want them to do?"

"Me want them – no, no. Nothing at the minute," Len says. "Just, you know, if you or any of them want life to get something done –"

“Oh, yes,” Grace says. “If we –”

"Maybe not now," Mick interjects. "The other Legends are coming, and they're looking bitchy."

"Later," Len tells his ghosts, who nod and float away to talk to the others, presumably about Len’s offer.

Sara's in the lead. She marches straight up to Len and says, "Rip's not coming."

"What? Why? I’d have thought – y’know – with the duster and the revolver –"

“Yeah, you’re not alone,” Ray says, scowling.

"He says it's for repairs, but we kept up on him and it turns out he had a bad encounter in this time period, or something like that. Wouldn’t give details." Sara snorts. "He's hiding something. Again."

"He's having real trouble with this whole team thing," Mick comments. “Funny, it being his idea and all.”

"Yeah, well. I promised we'd behave, but I'm thinking we can 'behave' ourselves at the local tavern. All the movies make out like it's the best place to gather intel anyway."

"Sure, intel," Mick guffaws. "That's what you call it?"

"What do you call it?"

"Trouble, that’s what I call it.”

She grins. "I'll settle for getting a feel of the old West. You two in?"

"Sure," Len says.

"Bet I can outdrink you both," Sara says.

"I'll take that bet," Mick says, brightening.

"He cheats," Len warns Sara. It's unfair to drink with a dead man, though he thinks Sara might be able to swing it.

"I'll deal," she says blithely.

The town they go to is small, wretched and dusty. The tavern is the liveliest joint in town, and that's a low, low bar, given that the alternative appears to be sitting around coughing up dust and possibly watching weeds grow.

Len has a brand new respect for Saints and Sinners.

Of course, then Grey cheats at cards and some asshole tries to draw on him.

Len shoots the gun out of the man’s hand.

"Sonofabitch!" the man shouts, clutching at his hand.

"That coulda been between your eyes," Len drawls disinterestedly. "Now either sit down and put up or get out."

"How dare you?" the man shouts. His face is flushed a deep red, his mouth flecked white with spit. Len is somewhat concerned about accidentally killing him via triggering an apoplexy. "Do you know who I am?"

"No," Len says. "Don't much care, either."

"I'm one of Stillwater's!"

Must be a local gang.

"Pass along my condolences, will you?" Len says.

"Your – what?"

Len has a decision to make. This is about to turn into a fight - depending on what he says, he can either calm it down or rev it up.

Though, to be fair, after the last few weeks he’s had, Len could use a nice, uncomplicated bar fight right about now.

Oh, what the hell. He didn’t promise to behave.

Len makes a show of sighing and puts down his cards. "Tell your boss," he says slowly, "that I'm sorry he has to deal with such a dumbass snot-nosed horse-fucker as yourself on his crew."

The guy goes for the lamp on the table and throws it at Len.

Len shoots it out of the air, just to show off.

Then half the room jump to their feet and three of them rush at Len.

Naturally, that's when Mick gives a big old holler and rushes them, Sara at his side.

Damn, but Len loves a good bar fight.

"That was kinda fun," Jax says when they're done and the rest of the fighters are either unconscious or fled. Even Stein got into the fun, grabbing a chair and swinging it around like a maniac.

"If by fun you mean trouble," a harsh voice growls from the door.

Len looks. It's a man in a grey Confederate uniform, a nasty scar on his face, and a scowl.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the guy asks.

“No,” Ray says, stepping forward. “We’re from out of town. Uh. Way out of town.” He grins.

The guy sneers. “Yeah, of course you are. Why don’t you lot tell me where you’re really from?”

“I’m not sure that’s any of your business,” Stein says.

“Lemme rephase,” the guy says. “Tell me when y’all are from.”

They stare at him.

“You stand out like a dog in a manger,” he says with a sneer. “Now where is he?”

“Who?” Sara asks.

“Rip Hunter,” the man says. “I’ve got words that need saying to him.”

“You know,” Jax says. “I think we’ve just figured out why Rip wanted to stay on board.”

“C’mon,” Sara says. “Let’s go back to the ship.”

“What, with him?” Len asks doubtfully. He doesn't like that uniform or what it stands for.

“Rip’ll know what to do,” Sara says firmly.

Turns out that Sara's right and he's wrong, though: Rip’s expression when he sees the man is priceless.

The man – Jonah Hex by name, it appears – starting the conversation by accusing Rip of stealing his coat?

Even better.

#dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #martin stein #jefferson jax jackson #sara lance #ray palmer #Kendra saunders #rip hunter #DC's Legends of Tomorrow #Jonah hex #my fic #deadfic

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afterspark-podcast · 3 years

Text

G1 Episode 39: Transcript

[This can also be found on AO3!]

[Stinger]

S: I didn't say it was calming. It's just, like, whale noises didn't work.

O: [Laughter]

[Intro Music]

O: Hello and welcome to the Afterspark Podcast, an episode by episode recap of the Generation 1 Transformers cartoon. I'm Owls.

S: And I'm Specs.

O: And today we're going to be talking about episode number 39: The God Gambit. Let's talk about giant robots today, shall we?

S: Yep.

O: And today IN SPACE!!!

S: Aliens. Multicolored aliens, even.

O: One group of aliens seems to be controlling a giant idol- I mean, a god???

S: It looks pretty rocky. The high priest yells at a twink as other not priest-like aliens offer their harvest offerings to the so-called god.

O: We see a stylishly dressed pink lady running around behind the scenes, spying on the shenanigans before she and her diverse cadre destroy the giant stone god.

S: Apparently to join this group you must be either: a woman or ‘mustache’ some extremely fancy facial hair.

O: Those aliens had magnificent mustaches.

S: Yes, yes they did. The pink lady yells at the high priest for being a dick.

O: I like her already but then again I like most women who look like they can yeet me into the sun.

S: Oh, and she very much looks like she could do that to like everyone she comes across.

O: Pretty much. Probably not the giant robots but that's a sheer size thing not because I don't believe in her power.

S: Yep. You know, I almost like the high priest’s ceremonial robes but he apparently likes the breeze because there's very little leg coverage.

O: It is all business at the top and party on the bottom.

S: The high priest, whose name is Jero, rants about punishment from ‘sky gods’ to Talaria who is our badass pink lady.

O: But Talaria tells him, “There are no ‘sky gods’!” Oh my, I wonder how giant transforming robots from the sky are going to come into this?

S: Hint, hint. Now about those giant robots.

O: Cosmos is flying around in space, running away from Decepticons, evading laser beams. He calls the Ark.

S: No one's manning the computer- no, wait, they run in from screen left.

O: I really do think they would just have somebody who would stay there and keep an eye on things but no. Prime, Jazz, Perceptor, and Red Alert all run in and answer his coms.

S: We see Astrotrain is the one pursuing Cosmos.

O: Oh! A carryover from the last episode, perhaps?

S: That would be a very rare instance of inter-episode continuity.

O: Probably not that, then.

S: Apparently the Cons are trying to get data from Cosmos, so Prime tells them to transmit the data but Red Alert stops them.

O: Red Alert is the only one here considering cyber security.

S: Well, very fitting considering his job.

O: Makes sense. Thrust and Starscream are sitting shotgun in Astrotrain and overhear the Autobots’ transmissions.

S: Immediately proving Red Alerts fears absolutely correct because apparently Astrotrain can just tune in onto the Autobot comm signal with, uh, no problem whatsoever. And Thrust either cares about his comrade's well-being or has a healthy dose of self-preservation as he expresses some concern about Astrotrains’ dwindling energy levels. But Astrotrain says ‘fuck that’ and continues to shoot after Cosmos.

O: You know, considering Ramjet in the previous episode, are the Coneheads just a lot nicer than I gave them credit for?

S: Maybe? Maybe, maybe. Astrotrain manages to hit Cosmos and poor Cosmos bounces off an asteroid before hitting the planet that was in our episode opening.

O: So, turns out that isn't a planet- it's one of Saturn's moons: Titan! Courtesy of the TFWiki, it seems like, uh, Titan having life on it wasn't too far out during the time frame [the episode was made in] considering it has a substantial atmosphere and it became somewhat prevalent in popular culture due to the Voyager spacecraft sending back a decent amount of data on it a few years earlier.

S: Fascinating!

O: The more you know.

S: A bunch of aliens are sitting around outside as Talaria espouses that the ‘sky gods’ aren't real.

O: The high priests are all tied up, too, so she's clearly gotten shit done in the meantime.

S: Yep and in an unfortunate coincidence Talaria points at the sky and says, “Show me a ‘sky god,’” just as Cosmos is, ah, crash landing.

O: Jero's a dick about this, of course.

S: He knows when to take his opportunities with both hands and run with them. We cut to the Decepticons landing in front of the giant temple containing the idol from before.

O: Starscream claps his hands together and goes, “Here's the church, here's the steeple, open the door, where's all the people?” Where the fuck did he learn this and why??

S: Oh, obviously they learned at the same time that they learned what a guinea pig was.

O: I love how proud of himself he looks here, too. I also feel like this lends credence to our toss away comment about Starscream actually making an attempt to learn something about Earth culture, which is super weird.

S: It's Starscream, man.

O: He does what he wants.

S: Yup-

O: Which includes learning children's nursery rhymes or whatever the hell you want to call that.

S: Astrotrain tells Starscream to stop ranting.

O: Thrust points to the smoke in the distance as to where the people probably are.

S: Or where Cosmos might be, at least.

O: The high priest who has been untied, of course, he proclaims: “Behold! A sky god!” over Cosmos' prone body.

S: This man is going to take what he's given and run with it. A true con artist.

O: The other aliens, aside from Talaria, fall down in worship.

S: She must be so done with everything.

O: I would be so done with everything.

S: Astrotrain’s like, “Hey, they worship Transformers! I'll just tell them I'm in charge.”

O: Starscream, unsurprisingly, does not like this plan.

S: He wants to be the boss.

O: Starscream never gets to be the boss.

S: Well, he always declares himself the boss and then he gets demoted right, like, immediately.

O: This is why you should stop saying you're the boss while Megatron is still alive.

S: Yep. Astrotrain promptly goes for strangulation and then Starscream is just, like, “Okay, okay.”

O: That that'll usually do’er. Uh, Jero tells Talaria to bow down just as Astrotrain drives through the trees in train mode.

S: Choo-choo-cachoo?

O: Astrotrain then transforms and proclaims himself as the mightiest of the gods.

S: Astrotrain has the other two carry Cosmos into the temple saying, “Prop up that hunk of junk over there.”

O: Why does Cosmos just keep getting regulated to junk?

S: Because he's small, round, and full of love.

O: All the things Astrotrain hates.

S: Yeah, Starscream whines about, “Why do they have to listen to Astrotrain?”

O: To which Thrust replies, “Because he'll vaporize us if we don't.” I'm serious, I'm really loving the Coneheads on this watch through. They're way more competent than I gave them credit for.

S: Yeah, well they care about not dying.

O: Which, honestly, counts for a lot in the show.

S: Yeah, yeah. Astrotrain props Cosmos up as an idol for the people to worship and grabs the energy data off of him.

O: He then sits there and talks really loudly about how if Cosmos could only reconnect one wire he'd be able to call for help. Thankfully, Talaria overhears this.

S: Thrust points out that Astrotrain burned up most of his fuel chasing Cosmos and they had better call Megatron, you know, for help.

O: Astrotrain’s, like, “No! Not until I crack Cosmos's code!”

S: ‘I want to be king of this mud ball!’

O: Uh, he's going to be king of something. They walk off and Talaria does the smart thing and reconnects Cosmos's wire, allowing Optimus to communicate with her and activate Cosmos's signal beacon so, basically, the Autobots can find him.

S: Starscream shoots at her and then we cut to a commercial.

O: Starscream misses and, thankfully, Cosmos wakes up and shoots him, allowing Talaria to escape.

S: Astrotrain then shoots Cosmos and poor Cosmos collapses again.

O: He's taken a lot of abuse in this episode. On Earth, Perceptor and Jazz volunteer to go with Omega Supreme to save Cosmos.

S: Unfortunately, once they get there Omega will not be able to transform and help them.

O: By- due to lack of energy, basically, he's not going to have enough energy to get there and back.

S: Mm-hmm. And back on the alien planet [Titan] Jero leads the Cons to the fire god's lair.

O: Which consists of giant ass crystals that are apparently full of energy. Like most giant crystal things in this show.

S: One of Jero's followers is like, “Aaah! This is taboo,” Jero's like, “God's gonna do what a god's gonna do, who cares about your taboos?”

O: And Astrotrain wants energy.

S: Yep, never mind that it's the sort of energy that makes things go boom.

O: Hey, I mean, they are what they are. They are a chaotic explosive uh, faction. The Autobots arrive just as Omega runs out of energy and they crash land.

S: They decide that they need Cosmos to move the poor crash-landed Omega and Jazz tells him to, “not move,” and Omega replies, “Sarcasm not appreciated.”

O: [laughter] Be careful there, buddy, you're making a joke and after the other two walk off the cliff they were on partially collapses leaving Omega balanced precariously on just the teeniest, tiniest bit of rock.

S: “Situation critical.” And frankly, Mr. Omega, that is an understatement.

O: Yes, it is. In the cave, the Cons are now forcing the aliens to harvest the giant crystals for them.

S: Starscream confirms that they are quite unstable.

O: Yeah but- I'm shocked, shocked to tell you, shocked.

S: Jazz and Perceptor are walking around outside when Talaria shoots arrows at them and then Jazz asks her to, “Hey, calm down,” and Talaria leads them to Cosmos-

O: While riding-

S: With a bit of explanation.

O: While riding on Jazz's shoulder, no less.

S: She has the best seat in the house.

O: She does, Jazz is a delight.

S: The Cons walk in on Jazz and Perceptor seeing to Cosmos and cue a firefight with a bunch of explosive crystals.

O: Like a sane person, Thrust wants backup.

S: Yep, but Starscream tells him to stand and fight because if Thrust doesn't then Starscream doesn't have anyone to stand behind.

O: Pretty much and it's Porche and rock versus warplane, as Jazz chucks the rock at Starscream, making him fall to the ground.

S: [Sighs] Starscream yells for help but Thrust runs out and tells Astrotrain.

O: Astrotrain then has does the humans [aliens] shoot crystals at Jazz.

S: They've got them on the ends of, um, arrows. They're using them as arrowheads, I think. The aliens pull out a catapult and begin shooting huge chunks of crystals at Jazz and Perceptor, blasting them into a crevice.

O: Astrotrain captures Talaria and we cut to another commercial, you know, because a woman is in mortal peril and if we have an episode with a woman this is required.

S: We need all that suspense. Thrust, again, calls for common sense as he and Starscream fly over looking for the Autobots but Starscream laughs this off.

O: Naturally, Jazz and Perceptor are fine.

S: Back with the aliens, Astrotrain and Jero continue to be dicks.

O: And then back to Jazz and Perceptor, because we can't focus for more than three seconds in this episode.

S: They don't have time to have to do all of this stuff in 23 minutes.

O: Of course. The two enter the cave with all the crystals. Perceptor examines them and realizes they're unstable crystallized energy. Jazz then bangs on one with a rock for some reason.

S: I think he might want a sample?

O: Well, thankfully, Perceptor stops him before any explosions can happen.

S: Yeah. Meanwhile some of the natives are realizing their religion is a lie and confront Jazz.

O: Jazz is like, “We ain’t gods!”

S: The aliens inform them that Talaria is about to be sacrificed so off Jazz goes to save her and he tells Perceptor to go refuel Omega with the crystals.

O: Which apparently don't need to be refined or anything.

S: Yeah, we just see Perceptor running through the forest with a bag of crystals.

O: Where did he even get a bag?

S: Subspace? Maybe the aliens had something that he borrowed?

O: Maybe.

S: The natives- he finds Omega in his precarious situation and Perceptor tries to reach him by Indiana Jones-ing some shit.

O: Back in the temple, Talaria is being tied up just as Jazz pops out of the floor.

S: The inexplicable hole in the middle of the floor leading down to the pit of doom.

O: You know, normal temple stuff in an 80’s cartoon.

S: Elsewhere, Perceptor is quickly shoving crystals into Omega Supreme as they're falling.

O: And Omega's able to take flight, saving both of their afts, with Perceptor hanging on for dear life.

S: Jazz goes in guns blazing to save Talaria, as they duck and cover from the Decepticon fire.

O: Jazz proves to be an excellent shot, too.

S: Omega and Perceptor arrive in front of the temple.

O: Perceptor looking much worse for wear as he stumbles off from their wild ride.

S: His- Perceptor is just very done with today.

O: He's a scientist, not a- not an adventurer, damnit!

S: I think a lot of people are very done with today.

O: Omega punches through the wall and Starscream and Thrust flee.

S: Astrotrain falls down the pit- into the pit of doom, narrowly avoiding the electric lava at the bottom, and then the Cons and Jero meet up in the crystal cave, and realizing they can't fight Omega Supreme, instead decide to blow the crystals up, and fly off with the Decepticons leaving Jero to die.

O: Because, as previously mentioned, Astrotrain is a dick!

S: The volcano explodes or, I don't know, the electric lava explodes-

O: Something-

S: And the aliens are like, “Save- save us and we'll worship you.”

O: Jazz is like, for the thousandth time, “We're not gods,” but they do save the aliens using Omega's tracks.

S: Why didn't they just get in Omega and fly off, it would have been interesting if they just brought everybody to Earth.

O: Uh, the Prime Directive would have been broken?

S: Fair.

O: The aliens are rebuilding as Perceptor is finally able to fix Cosmos.

S: Well, Cosmos just seems like he got a nap out of all of this.

O: Quite frankly, my poor boy deserves a break. He's got to do all the flying through space except for, periodically, when they grab, you know, Skyfire to do it.

S: Yeah.

O: So something I thought was funny that we found out after we watched the episode: This is actually the first episode- and it took 39 episodes- that Frank Welker does not voice a single character.

S: That's pretty funny.

O: Because, again, he voices like, oh, what? 70% of every single Decepticon and this just happened to be three Decepticons that he does not voice at all! Like, even in the- even in the last episode, he was voicing Rumble. I know Megatron was in there a little, but he was voicing Rumble that entire time, too. So I thought that was hilarious- took 39 episodes for that. But join us next time for: The Core! Megatron wants to journey to the center of the earth and the Autobots engage in a questionable amount of mind control.

S: Yep.

O: And we do have some fanfic for today.

S: So the first fanfic is “From A Distance” by PuraJazzBot, it's from the G1 cartoon continuity and it's rated K. It's gen, there's no pairings, and our lone character is Cosmos. And, in summary, “Being in outer space is not always as exciting as it sounds. Cosmos can personally attest.” And so it's Cosmos in space and it's a one-shot. And I believe you chose our other fic today.

O: Yes it's getting near Halloween so I thought this was appropriate! Our a wild card pick for today is: “Who's The Big Bad Wolf” by LittleMissSweetgrass. It is in the IDW continuity, is G, it is Gen, there are no pairings. Our characters are Verity, Springer, Ultra Magnus, and Minimus Ambus, and in summary: “Verity is trying to get Magnus to wear the costume she worked so hard on,” and it is a one-shot. And they're celebrating Halloween. I know that summary didn't say that but it felt relevant. I'm pretty sure this is going to go up in October- this will definitely go up in October so here's a Halloween fic for you!

S: Nice, that one sounds fun.

O: It's really cute, I like anything with Verity and Minimus in it and, like, quite frankly there's not enough of it. And I- our fan art recommendation for today is: Text from More Than Meets The Eye, which is a Tumblr and it is basically IDW comic edits. It is completely inaccurate text photoshopped into IDW comic panels.

O: Uh, today is all Ratchet and Megatron. I would apologize for this but, uh, let's face it, we all know I'm not sorry. And these are quite frankly some of my favorite ones, um, which is basically, um, Ratchet is very sure he doesn't give a fuck. Megatron reserves his right to go outside and scream at 2 AM, and, uh, Ratchet hopes that one day he can afford the surgery to remove his head from the ass- from his ass. [Ratchet’s] talking about somebody else, not himself, obviously, but, uh, I love this blog. I- I don't think they've been posting recently, which is always a bit sad but- but definitely worth looking into because I laughed so hard at some of these, and they are great!

And, also, if the- especially with Ratchet, if that is not word for word things I think he would actually say in a, you know, um, more profanity ridden, um, circumstance, I don't know what to tell you because I think they're perfect.

S: That was nice, thank you.

O: Again, highly recommend, very funny. I always laugh my butt off.

S: Yeah, it's been a while since I've seen any of those but I do enjoy them too. And that about wraps it up for us today. Remember to check us out on Tumblr or Pillowfort as Afterspark-Podcast for any additional information, show notes, or links we may have mentioned. You can also find us on Facebook and Twitter at AftersparkPod (all one word) and various other locations by searching for Afterspark Podcast such as AO3, iTunes, Spotify, and Youtube, just to name a few. And feel free to send us questions on Tumblr, or Youtube, or AO3! Till next time, I'm Specs.

O: I’m Owls.

S: Toodles.

[Outro Music]

#g1 episode 39 #transcript #afterspark podcast #podcast

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Photo

The world was blurry as he let his head slide on one hand and stared out through the kitchen window. Gordon was in the pool, swimming his morning laps. The sun had yet to rise and Virgil had broken several laws of physics rising himself. This time of day should not exist. But then it didn’t, because it wasn’t day yet because there was no sun!

But no, supersonic big brother wanted to do some special training today. Training that for some reason had been scheduled at sunrise.

It was possibly important, likely scheduled just to get his ass out of bed at this godawful hour. Occasionally there were some issues with having your brother in command. Brotherly love only went so far, brotherly snark had more mileage, and Scott did have that twist of his lips when he announced the schedule.

Four pairs of eyes had immediately turned to him and his return glare had been insufficient to deflect the amusement that followed.

But it was okay. It was fine. He had his own skill drills up his sleeve. Two am would be convenient for him next time, definitely. After all, they all had to keep their skill sets up, didn’t they?

In the meantime, it was black coffee and repeated attempts to focus on Mateo. Mateo was distinctly blurry, and dark and...

“Hey, Virg!” Alan whacked him on the back.

His face nearly ended up in his coffee. “Alan? What the hell?”

“And good morning to you, too, big bro. Ready for this morning’s run?”

He stared at his bright and peppy, yes, peppy, youngest brother. Augh. “Go away.”

“Aww, did the big bear have to get out of bed a little early?”

“Alan...”

“C’mon, Virg, it’s gonna be fun. A race around the island, wind in your hair, blood pumping...it’s gonna be awesome.”

Virgil stared at him, his brain slowly picking up that something wasn’t quite right. “Alan, why aren’t you comatose?”

“What do you mean, big bro?”

A slow blink. “You hate mornings almost as much as I do. Who are you and what have you done with my little brother?” His eyelids drooped all of their own volition.

“It’s called prepared, bro. I’m in it to win it.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. “Are you on something? Because if you are, Scott’s going to kill you, and once I’m awake, I’ll resuscitate you so I can kill you again.”

“That’s violence, bro. It’s cool, I promise.”

An arched eyebrow that almost hurt. “What did you do, Alan?”

“Nothing. Well, nothing you aren’t already doing.”

“You drank coffee.”

“Noooooooo.”

“What did you do?”

“A little caffeine is all.”

The arched eyebrow flipped into a frown. “How much?”

“Enough.”

Virgil’s back straightened. “Alan.”

“I’m fine, bro, I promise. I know what I’m doing. I’m not stupid.” A blond frown. “Besides, it’s not like you don’t do the same with your coffee after coffee after coffee technique.”

Virgil’s lips thinned, but to be honest, the kid was right, he didn’t have a leg to stand on. But... “You’re not yet an adult, Alan.”

“Yet, I take the responsibilities of an adult, Virgil.”

“Your body isn’t fully mature!”

“Well, thanks for that, Doctor Virgil!”

“You have to look after yourself!”

“Hard to do anything else when I have four brothers mother-henning me all the time!”

“We worry about you!”

“Well, don’t! I can look after myself.”

“Alan!”

“Virgil!”

“Hey! What the hell is going on here?!”

Virgil found himself looming over his little brother, one brain cell after another slowly catching up with what the hell was going on. Bright blue eyes were staring up at him defiantly, his little brother’s shoulders tight and fists clenched at his sides.

Virgil forced his own fists to uncurl. There was a reason why he preferred not to see this time of day. Disturbed sleep disturbed his calm, his control, and things like this happened.

Scott loomed over the both of them and Virgil took a step back, slumping back onto his seat and hulking over his coffee almost in a pout. “Better ask Alan, he’s the one being stupid.”

“Speak for yourself, Virgil.”

“Both of you, shut it.” Scott could glare with the best of them, but Virgil had exhausted what little energy he had and ignored him. “Alan, dosed himself with caffeine.”

“Virgil!”

He could feel the laserbeams shooting out of Scott’s eyes switching targets and landing on Alan. There was no satisfaction, just blergh. Here we go.

And sure enough, Scott started in on his little brother. There was, of course, shouting. Virgil idly wondered how come Scott got to yell and he didn’t. But then Virgil didn’t really like yelling anyway.

Coffee. Its warmth drifted down his throat and spread into his bones. Oh god, he needed it. Maybe a second one after this? But then the word ‘caffeine’ came up amongst the explosions beside him and he reconsidered. No need to become a target himself.

He let his foggy mind drift a little. It was all his fault really. He could have gone to bed early, but he had made the mistake of getting into a discussion online with an engineering idiot. The topic had become heated, chemical formulas launched like bombs and laced with reactive equations enough to take out half the engineering community. In the end, he’d thrown a hissy fit and sat up to three am writing up his argument. He’d chucked it onto his blog with a great deal of satisfaction and was looking forward to rubbing it in the man’s face.

Just as soon as he could boot his brain.

Coffee, give me strength.

Gordon wandered in at some point, a damp towel around his neck. Being Gordon, he prodded the conflagration in progress and got burnt. The argument became three sided.

Virgil considered snoozing on the counter.

Then he hit on the idea that he could possibly sneak back to bed. He stood up slowly.

Brains bounded into the room, tablet in hand. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Brilliant, so b-brilliant!”

The argument came to a sudden halt, four pairs of eyes turning towards the engineer.

The engineer didn’t notice, eyes glued to his tablet. Max bounded in behind him, whirring excitedly. It was the robot who prevented the distracted Brains from walking into the kitchen counter.

“Oh, thank you, M-Max.” His eyes didn’t leave the tablet. “Did you see the p-polymer ratio? Amazing! Such elegance. You know, I am quite d-disap-pointed that I didn’t think of this myself. The applications are going to b-be in-numerable.”

The distraction was enough to break the fuel lines of the argument and Scott settled for a final threat, Alan a final glare and Gordon, a snort of derision. The moment to escape was lost and Virgil slumped where he sat.

Damn.

“Virgil, you going to eat before we run?”

Alan was right, Scott mother-henned.

“Maybe.” Ugh, c’mon coffee kick in. He needed operational braincells.

Scott was peering closely at him. “Earth to Virgil.”

“Shut up, Scott. You got me up at the ass end of the day, I’m here. Don’t expect much more.”

His brother grinned, and Virgil had the odd urge to thump him. Just because this was his element, didn’t mean he had to be a smart ass about it. “Your next physical is going to be hell.”

The grin faltered. Aah, that’s better. Hmm, perhaps his brain was slowly booting. Go, coffee.

“Virgil! You h-have to see these equations. They are brilliant!”

What? Brains’ tablet shifted the remains of his coffee to one side and Virgil found himself staring at a series of numbers that made little sense at this time of the morning. “Brains, looks great. Can I review them later? I’m not all here yet.”

The engineer didn’t appear to hear him. “Look at the polymer decay to reaction ratio! This is a self-healing polymer!”

Huh? He frowned and forced himself to focus. The appropriate neurons clicked into place in his brain and suddenly what he was seeing made sense.

Shit.

He grabbed the tablet, eyeing the equations and spinning calculations in his head. Brains was right. This was perfect. The polymer would be able to self-heal with the application of a mild electrical current. Give it a pattern to follow and it would populate and keep it populated, even after disturbance.

“Did you discover this, Brains?” He frowned. There was something familiar about this. Maybe they had discussed it recently.

“Oh, no, this is V. T. Green. The man is brilliant.” There was that word again. Brilliant.

But it still took a second for it all to click into place.

V. T. Green was his blog. V. T. Green was his pseudonym online, used for obvious reasons to keep his identity hidden. The blog had been for amusement originally. A place to stash his favourite music and art, but at some point, he had found himself venturing into engineering circles and getting into discussion with the online community. It made for interesting discourse and he was able to keep up to date with some of the latest innovations. Not that he could share his own much and IR was well ahead of the majority of the world thanks to one Hiram Hackenbacker, but on occasion he would fiddle with ideas and make suggestions. It was also a great place to postulate out-there concepts.

The equations on Brains’ tablet were Virgil’s.

“Where did you get these?”

Brains was full of far too much energy for this time of the morning. “Green p-posted them during the night and they have h-hit the world by s-storm.”

“What?”

Brains frowned at him. “Haven’t you heard of V. T. Green, Virgil? He is o-one of the leading engineers on this p-planet. I have been f-following his b-blog for over a year n-now. You r-really m-must check it out.”

“Um, must have missed that one.”

“H-how could you m-miss such an important s-site? I know you k-keep up to date. The man is at the centre of a massive discussion about polymer cohesion and decay. Last night, Coloncous in Spain had the nerve to challenge him in the most ridiculous manner. I was so close to cutting him off myself, he was embarrassing us all, but Green replied with this. As expected, it is a brilliant explanation and Coloncous had no choice but to concede and crawl back into the hole he should never have come out of in the first place. He was a fool to think he could go up against Green. But this solution has so many possibilities. Do you realise this could be integrated into Two’s cahelium hull and she would be able to heal damage midflight? Four would be able seal herself in an underwater emergency. So brilliant.”

Virgil stared at the engineer. He didn’t think he had ever heard Brains say so many words in a row. And his stutter had disappeared two sentences in.

“What did you say about sealing Four, Brains?” Gordon’s ears had obviously pricked up at the mention of his ‘bird.

Brains’ attention was immediately drawn to the aquanaut, his verbal diarrhoea spilling all over Gordon and freeing Virgil.

Taking the opportunity, he pulled out his phone and brought up the website.

Shit!

He had notifications enough to clog his inbox. Due to the early hour, his phone was still on silent and he hadn’t heard any of them. A quick glance identified several prominent names and universities.

Shit. His eyes widened.

He glanced up at his family who were now eagerly discussing safety seals for Thunderbird Four. Even Scott’s eyes were wide and enthusiastic.

Shit.

Um.

Yeah.

He needed more coffee.

-o-o-o-

V.T. Green (one of my absolute favourites :D)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #alan tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #brains #Hiram Hackenbacker #nuttyfic reblog

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boyswanna-be-her · 7 years

Text

goretober: space

“Hey, it’s me. Don’t be mad.”

Amal is mad.

She told the goddamn CAPCOM to keep her wife home--to keep Carmen out of all of this as much as possible. She asked him as a colleague and as a friend.

So what the fuck is her wife doing on this transmission?

“I know you hate it when I say shit like this, but it’s totally OK for you to be stressed out right now. You’ve been alone for a long time.”

Amal isn’t afraid of being alone.

She’s trained for years, prepped, spent months in carefully monitored isolation like a zoo animal. Amal can do years alone standing on her head.

Being alone wouldn’t be a problem.

The problem is that Amal is not alone.

“This stuff you’re seeing--this stuff that’s happening--it’s because you’re stressed.”

Carmen is being so careful with her voice and Amal can’t decide how she feels about that. Angry, she decides, because Carmen feels like she has to be careful. Thankful that someone exists back on earth who cares enough to want to treat her gently. Frustrated that Carmen--along with everyone else in Houston--doesn’t believe her.

“I can’t say we perfectly understand why it might be happening, but all of your vitals have been relatively normal.”

“Fuck my vitals,” Amal says to the empty capsule. “It’s not my vitals that are freaking me.”

She hasn’t been alone for three days, and if everyone back at mission control would just listen for half a minute, they’d know that.

“Please, Amal, take the diazepam. Get some sleep.”

She knows how much Amal hates being sedated. They all do. It’s part of what makes Amal such a good candidate for a years-long solo mission like this. She’s never been interested in sleeping away problems or worrying about them less.

You identify the problem. You assess the problem. You work the problem. That’s what astronauts do, and Carmen knows that because she’s been through the same training, been through the same emergencies on missions. Those situations should’ve been terrible--the type of thing to knock you down onto the therapist’s couch for a solid decade--but had instead been exhilarating for all of them, for the entire crew, and though Carmen and Amal never talked about it, she knew Carmen felt it.

Carmen may have started in Star City as a physician, but they all came out on the other side of Hermes I as astronauts.

Their minds went somewhere else--became something else--when potential catastrophes presented themselves in space. Training kicked in and took the situation out of their hands, the spectres of their months of drills in a swimming pool suddenly conjured up.

The crew became a troupe of dancers working through complicated choreography when they tackled problems together, and in the same way that Amal imagined a dancer might feel a high coming off of a good performance, they all knew the distinct sensation of seeing death’s design, understanding it, and dismantling it.

They beat death over and over again. Hell, manned space exploration in itself was an exercise in conquering death over and over and over again.

Fires. Breaches. Malfunctions.

None of those things were ever solved by popping a pill and zipping in for seven hours.

“Anyway, try not to be mad at Patrick for calling me in. I was already up anyway--and to be honest? He’s not the only one down here worrying about you.”

Amal snorts. “No shit, babe. I’m in charge of a multi-billion dollar operation and you all think I’ve lost my marbles.”

She lets herself wish for one split second that Carmen was there to roll her eyes.

“I’m not going to stick around for your transmission back because I know you’re going to tell me that you took your diazepam and you’re about to strap in for bed.”

Carmen is lying of course. Amal knows there’s no chance she’d split without waiting for a response.

“I love you Amal. I’ll talk to you on Tuesday.”

###

Carmen has been sitting at the empty desk next to Patrick, pretending desperately to pay attention to what he’s saying instead of staring at the time on his monitor.

She should’ve responded by now. Right? It’s been fifteen minutes. What’s she doing up--

“Shit, here we go,” Patrick says.

Carmen watches a status bar on the computer monitor tick up until it’s full and then there she is, floating a few feet away from the camera.

Carmen’s wife never looks different in space like everyone else does.

Space suits Amal, strangely. Her face doesn’t puff up like Carmen’s always had, and her close-cropped hair doesn’t need to be pinned and looped and braided like Carmen’s. No, in zero gravity and halfway to Mars, Amal still looks the same. The bruise-dark smudges beneath her eyes are the only real change.

She needs to sleep.

“She’s too pretty to be real,” Patrick sighs out--and Carmen laughs because their mutual and very gay friend Patrick is the only person in mission control, she thinks, who she doesn’t mind commenting on her wife’s appearance. Coming from anyone else’s mouth, it would either be completely irrelevant or totally inappropriate.

Coming from Patrick it’s ok because he knows she’s thinking the same thing.

Carmen’s heart is full to bursting every time she sees her. That’s part of why Carmen hasn’t been hanging out in mission control. It makes being apart too hard.

They’ve done this before. They got through it. Amal’s first stint on ISS was the hardest, but it all got easier after that. Carmen knows from experience that she deals best with her wife’s absences when she continues on with her own research on earth in the meantime.

This is the part she hates--the part they both try to avoid. These little snippets, these short speeches they deliver and then shoot through space to each other. It’s worse than not communicating at all.

In the fifteen-minute-old video, Amal reaches up to stabilize herself, grabbing handles on either side of the comms unit. It gives Carmen the uncanny feeling that her wife is reaching out, grabbing her by either side of the face, begging her to pay attention.

“I know it’s impossible,” Amal says--and her voice has a ragged edge now. “I know it doesn’t make sense. But I’m not alone in here. And I’m not taking a fucking xanny so that everyone can rest easy about me being sedated. I need to be sober if I’m going to--”

Amal goes still and it takes a beat before Carmen realizes that Patrick has paused the video.

“What’s up?”

“There’s something wrong with the unit,” Patrick says, frowning and leaning in to peer at the monitor closer. “There’s a reflection or--hm. Why’s it doing that?”

Carmen leans in and she sees it now, too. Amal’s face is being reflected in the observation bay window--but that doesn’t make sense.

“It can’t be a reflection,” she says. “It’s behind her.”

The statement makes Carmen shiver. It’s behind her. Like something out of a B-movie. The call’s coming from inside the capsule!

“Weird,” Patrick says. “I used to get rando visual artifacts from transmissions but I thought I fixed that. Whatever, I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

With one hand, Patrick massages the bridge of his nose and with the other, he taps play on the video.

“--figure out who or what is fucking with me up here,” Amal continues.

Carmen’s heart drops. The more Amal talks like this, the more worried she gets. Why won’t Amal just bed down for a few hours? This is ridiculous.

“Anyway, I’ve got it under control, I’m working the problem, and it’s not like you can do anything for me from where you are.”

In the recording, Amal releases the handles and kicks off the wall, tucking her hands behind her head as she floats backwards.

“And Carm? You know I love you baby but the whole Nurse Ratched routine doesn’t really fit for you.”

Carmen rolls her eyes, sighs, leans back in the chair. At the same time, Patrick is leaning forward.

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” He goes stiff and suddenly he’s holding the desk like it’s the only thing tethering him to the earth. “Fuck. No. This isn’t… Carmen, what the fuck?”

She sees it then, the thing that’s set him off.

Amal is moving, drifting, playing it cool like she always does.

Her reflection is doing none of those things.

“It’s not a reflection.”

“It’s a messed up transmission artifact, like you said,” Carmen says shrugging.

“--Also, I totally know you didn’t just drive home without an answer from me, so quit being tacky and lying to me where Patrick can hear.”

Patrick is absolutely still beside her. He’s holding his breath. Why is he holding his breath?

It’s so odd to watch the two images of her wife on the screen: the Amal speaking clearly, joking, ribbing Carmen just like they’re sitting in their living room together, and the Amal who is a mirror image of herself, grainy but still just visible in the background.

“It’s not an artifact, Carmen.”

The reflection takes a breath. The reflection opens its mouth.

Very quietly but unmistakably, the reflection says its own name.

“Amal.”

The Amal in the front, the commander of this mission, hears it just as plainly as they have both heard it down here, so far away in Houston.

Amal’s biceps twitch. Her spine crooks. She falters in the air, moving her limbs to try to move her body, to face the noise, flailing and looking for an instant like someone who doesn’t understand the way a zero gravity environment works.

It’s panic.

She’s panicked.

In the eight years that Carmen has known her wife, she has never seen her panic.

Through fires. Through breaches. Amal doesn’t scare and she certainly does not panic and it is not until this moment that Carmen is truly frightened.

As Carmen watches, the center of her entire universe, the unshakeable core of what has made life bearable, the human vessel into which Carmen has placed all of her hopes for the future fights for leverage in a tin can hurtling towards a planet 55 million miles away.

Finally, Amal kicks a wall and spins to face her reflection--and now Carmen can’t deny it. She’s wrong. It’s not a reflection. It can’t be an artifact. Carmen struggles to make sense of what she’s seeing.

Amal faces her double and lets out a single yelp, hoarse and high and odd, a sound Carmen has never heard her make before. Amal--the wrong Amal, the one in the back, the thing that cannot possibly be her--Amal smiles.

Just as it had before, a moment passes before Carmen realizes that the video has stopped. She looks desperately to Patrick, but he hasn’t paused it.

The transmission is simply over.

#goretober #ew this one spooked me a lil but i don't even have any warnings to put on it???#so much for the gore part!!!!#unsettlingtober tbh

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homeiswherethestuckis · 7 years

Text

A Day At The Beach

I wrote this one for @amarandomperson, who requested davekat and the Mayor, which was something I was totally happy to do! :D It’s a post canon beach day. I hope you like it!

The Mayor’s been...busy ever since Can Town was founded on Earth C. Not that you haven’t been busy yourself, but being a god and being a mayor are two entirely different things. You feel like you haven’t seen the Mayor in forever. But today he finally has a day off! A day he said he wanted to spend with you and Karkat! Hell yeah, it’ll be just like old times again! Except this time you’re not on a meteor hurtling through the void towards a massive boss fight anymore.

So like old times, but without all the shit weighing down on your mind all the time. Old times but a fuck ton better.

You got out of bed the moment the sun came up, no point in wasting time sleeping right now. You crawled out of bed and got dressed quickly before heading downstairs. The strong smell of coffee hit you the moment you wandered into the kitchen. Karkat’s standing by the counter, holding his face close to the steam. He looks up at you as you enter and smiles.

“Morning.” He yawns.

“You’re up early.” You pour yourself a cup of coffee. “And you’re not grumbling my fucking ear off about how you’re days already ruined to shit by just the act of waking up and having your poor, fragile eyes immediately assaulted by the rays of this planet’s big scorch orb or whatever longwinded alien terminology you wanted to use for the morning’s rant.”

“Fuck you, dick ferret.” Karkat hands you the sugar. “I’m in a good mood today.”

“That’s rare.”

He snorts. “You don’t think I know that?”

You pour a ton of creamer and sugar into your coffee and stir until it goes from dark brown to a light tan. Honestly, you don’t even like coffee that much, but it does wake you up so at least it gets the job done. You take a drink and swallow half of it in one gulp. It burns your mouth a little, but you don’t mind. You have things to do today, you can’t wait for your coffee to cool.

“When are we going to see the Mayor?” Karkat asks.

“Damn, you’re not beating around the bush today.” You take another sip of your coffee.

“I was never that into attacking shrubbery, Dave.” He shrugs. “I’m more interested in knowing when we’re going to leave. Don’t tell me I wrenched myself from the grips of sleep for nothing.”

“There’s the morning hater I know and love.”

“Don’t sweet talk me and answer the question.”

“I don’t know. Soon, I guess.” You shrug. “As soon as possible. Probably right after this. And after you get dressed, obviously.”

You point out his pajamas. Technically they’re not pajamas, they’re just the clothes he fell asleep in last night. That’s usually the case with Karkat.

He puts his empty cup in the sink. “So if I change clothes, we can go? Right now?”

“Yeah, right now. I mean as long as the Mayor’s cool with it.” There’s no way he wouldn’t be, but you whip out your phone and start texting anyway just to make sure.

Karkat runs upstairs to get ready while you finish off your coffee. You get a text back in the meantime. The Mayor’s more than okay with you both coming over right now, and he’s just as excited to spend the day with you and Karkat.

He comes back downstairs in shorts and a t-shirt. “Okay, let’s go.”

Before you can even say anything in reply he grabs you by the wrist and starts dragging you out the door. You barely have time to put your coffee cup down and get your shoes before your socks are wet with dew from the grass. Karkat stops a few feet away from your house and turns around. He’s still got your wrist in a steel grip. “I don’t know where we’re going.”

��Yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes. “I got it. I figured we would just fly there. I know you hate doing it but it’ll be easier and a helluva lot faster than trying to hoof it from here.”

Karkat huffs but doesn’t protest. Today is a day of firsts.

You put an arm around him. “We can stop on the ground again whenever if the height freaks you out.”

“Heights don’t freak me out.” He says quickly. His arms are around you in a death grip the moment his feet leave the ground. Yeah, he’s not freaked out by heights. And you’re a fucking horse.

It doesn’t take very long to get to the Mayor’s place like this (though it definitely would have been a shorter amount of time if Karkat wasn’t weighing you down, not that you really mind), you’re in the air for less than ten minutes before you land back on solid ground in Can Town, just a few feet away from his door.

Karkat lets go of you and you both take a moment to appreciate the beauty that is Can Town at this scale. You’d both known that the Mayor had planned to build an actual town modeled after the one you’d both helped with on the meteor, but actually experiencing the town itself is always a treat. One of these days you’re really going to have to take some time off and really explore the place.

You wish you’d thought of that ahead of time, but that’s alright. The plans you made for today should be just as fun. You both walk over to the giant can the Mayor calls a house and knock on the door.

You don’t have to wait very long for the door to be flung open, and it’s only a split second later that the three of you are in the tightest group hug imaginable. Seriously, if you were any closer to these two people right now, you’d be merging into the same organism.

You’re not sure who initiated the hug and who’s breaking it apart, but you’re a little sad it’s already ending. It’s okay though because you’re still holding hands once the hug’s over with.

The Mayor asks where you’re all planning on going, and Karkat turns to you, also curious about today’s destination. It only occurs to you just now that even though you spent the past few days discussing this together you forgot to tell him what you’d finally decided on doing.

“I was thinking we could go to the beach.” You say. “You know, walk around, watch the waves, soak up that sun, all that cliche crap. It’ll be fun.”

You shrug as if you didn’t waste literal hours of your life coming up with this plan. Karkat and the Mayor exchange a look that you can’t really read.

Karkat’s the first to speak. “I’ve never been to the beach.” He admits, shrugging. “It’s probably awful and I’ll hate it, but I’d like having another experience to complain about.”

The Mayor agrees, but is more enthusiastic about it than Karkat is.

“Cool.” You nod. “I don’t think it’s too far a walk from here. Karkat, you should be happy about that.”

“I told you, heights don’t freak me out!” He snaps.

“You’ve made your opinion about flying pretty vocally clear during multiple bitch fits in the past, I was just trying to be nice.” You reply. “Besides, I never said anything about heights.”

“Fuck you, ass mucus, it was implied.”

“No, not even a little.”

The three of you start walking as you and Karkat continue to bicker about whether or not you implied that Karkat was afraid of heights, a fact which he continues to claim he isn’t even though nobody believes him or even cares if he is. The argument eventually peters to a close without reaching a real conclusion and you both turn your attention to chatting with the Mayor instead like you really should have been doing all along.

The Mayor’s been up to a lot lately. Right now he’s working on a big project, some sort of monument to people he knew before. Other than that, things have been pretty normal for him. The citizens all love him, and he participates in decision making with the leaders of the carapacian kingdom often (which makes sense because Rose and Kanaya know him personally and Roxy seems like she’d be open to that). He’s busy, but he’s happy. Everything’s been good for him so far.

The same can be said for you and Karkat, and you take turns telling the Mayor everything you’ve done since you saw him last. Karkat does a lot of the talking, and you occasionally interrupt with a comment or something Karkat forgot to mention. You like listening to them talk, you’ve never heard Karkat speak so softly to anyone else before. It’s kind of endearing.

There’s salt on the breeze that you’ve never tasted before. If you were being honest with yourself, one of the reasons you wanted to come here was because you’ve never seen the ocean in person. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to find out that Karkat hasn’t seen it, either.

The three of you reach your destination, and you all stand here motionlessly and take it all in. It’s bluer than you imagined, and surprisingly vast. It looks endless from here, and you feel small and a little insignificant in comparison. The feeling passes once you remember that this shit only exists because you helped create it in the first place. Suck it, ocean.

You tear your eyes away from the water and glance over at the other two. They both look just as entranced with the waves as you are. You could probably waste a good chunk of time just holding hands and staring, mesmerized by the fucking current like a bunch of asshats.

“Wow.” Karkat says, looking shocked at his own comment. “It’s...really pretty.”

“I want to throw a rock at it.”

Both of their heads snap over to you. “Dave, what the fuck?”

“I have no other explanation besides this.” You let go of the Mayor’s hand so you can give the most exaggerated shrug you can manage.

“Well, moment’s ruined. What the hell are we supposed to do now, Dave?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “Or was staring at a giant salt puddle all that was on the itinerary today?”

“That’s a pretty biting tone for someone who was way more than okay with doing that all day a second ago.” You reply. “But no, there’s more. Like I said, there’s so much cliche shit we could do. We did the staring at the waves part, so that’s a big check mark in the done square. We could get closer and walk around in the sand, Karkat you strike me as the whole ‘I like long walks along the beach’ kind of guy, if I’m being honest here. Or if that’s not really something you feel like doing because your poor toes are too sore to appreciate the sand right now since we walked all the way over here, then we could do something else. Try to skip rocks or some shit. Sand castles. You know the drill.”

“No, I really don’t.” He shakes his head. “None of what you said made any fucking sense. Are you having a stroke?”

“No, Karkat, I am not having a stroke, but thank you for your concern, I really appreciate it, dude.” You start taking off your shoes and socks. “If none of the things I suggested made any sense to you, then clearly that means we gotta do all that shit. Right fucking now. Don’t you think so, Mayor?”

He nods, and that’s all the confirmation you need before running off towards the water. You reach the sand, and it’s warm under your feet. Karkat and the Mayor follow behind you.

“Why’d you take off your shoes?” Karkat asks, staring at your already sand coated feet.

You wiggle your toes at him. “It’s part of the beach experience. Come on, take yours off.”

He takes his shoes off reluctantly and holds them in one hand as he puts his feet carefully on the ground.

“So, sand?” You pry. “Yea or nay?”

“I could take it or leave it.” He replies, looking down at his feet as he moves the sand around. “I still prefer shoes and solid ground, but if I have to be barefoot on ground up rocks to get the full cliche experience, then fuck it, sure. I’ll do it.”

He throws his shoes so they land near yours. “So,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “what are we doing first?”

“I don’t know about you,” you stoop down and start digging through the sand, “but I still want to throw a rock at it.”

You manage to find a smooth, good sized rock deep in the sand. “I figured skipping rocks would be a good start.”

You fling your rock at the ocean as a demonstration. You don’t actually know how to skip a rock, so it just plunks right into the water.

“Dave, that didn’t skip.” Karkat points out.

“How the fuck would you know? You didn’t even think skipping rocks was a thing until a couple seconds ago.”

“Yeah, but even I know that’s not what a skipped rock looks like.”

“Well why don’t you do it, then, if you’re such an expert at rock skipping?” You goad.

Karkat takes the bait without hesitation. “Okay, give me a rock and I’ll do it.” He holds out his hand to you.

You push his hand away. “I can’t do that. Finding your own rocks is an integral part of this practice, man. You gotta do it yourself. It wouldn’t count if I did it for you.”

“Fine.” His hands are on his hips. “Just you wait, I’m going to find a great rock and I’m going to skip the fuck out of it while you stand there, shamefaced and completely owned by me, a total rock skipping noob. Get ready to grovel at my feet, Dave.”

“Grovel?” You smirk. “Now that sounds like a challenge, Karkat. Are you sure you want to go through with that?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He nods. “Based on your severe lack of skill, I think I stand a good chance of winning.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, you’re on! Mayor, do you want in on this, or are you cool with judging?”

The Mayor picks up a rock. He’s in.

“Okay, cool.” You nod. “So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re going to take four minutes to split up and scour the beach for rocks to throw, and when those four minutes are up we’ll meet back here with our rocks and start throwing them. The first person whose rock actually skips will be declared the winner, and Karkat will have to lick all the sand off of my feet.”

“That’s only if you win, right?”

“Nope. You have to bathe my nasty, sand covered feet clean with your tongue regardless of who wins. Sorry, bro, I don’t make the rules.”

“Yes, you do! You just made that rule just now!”

“Wow, what the fuck, Karkat, I can’t believe you’re accusing me of making up rules. I’ll have you know that that’s always been a rule in rock skipping competitions. You have to lick my feet, that’s just how this game is.”

“If you put your vile sand frond anywhere near my face I’ll skip my rocks off your shades.”

“Oh, is that a threat?”

“Yes, obviously it’s a threat, you dense piece of moldy grubloaf.”

The Mayor intervenes before this can escalate into a contest to see who can throw the best insult at the other’s face and gets you back on track to what it actually is, a contest to see who can throw the best rock.

“How will we know the four minutes are over?” Karkat asks, tilting his head.

That’s a good question. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll keep track of the time and yell for you guys when time’s up.”

“And we’re supposed to meet up right back here?”

“That’s the plan, yeah.” You nod.

“How the fuck are we supposed to find right here? I mean, look around for a second, Dave, this all looks the fucking same. How am I supposed to differentiate this exact spot from all of the other identical spots on this sand strip?”

Before you can come up with an answer, the Mayor draws a big 'X’ in the sand between you and Karkat with his foot.

“Like that.” You point at the 'X’. “That should help you find your way back easier, as long as you keep looking at the ground.”

Karkat studies the 'X’ carefully and nods. “Yeah, that should help. Thanks, Mayor.”

“Okay, so we’re meeting back here in four.” They both nod. “Ready....go!”

You all split up, and you start searching frantically along the beach for some good rocks. You find a good amount closer to the water where the sand is damp and grab as many as you can before the four minutes are up. When the time’s run out, you make your way back with an entire pile of rocks in your arms.

Karkat and the Mayor have both also found a good amount of rocks, and their’s are already lain down on the ground before you get there.

“Well, Karkat, why don’t you start?” You say as you promptly dump your rocks next to you. “Show me up at skipping rocks. Right here, right now.”

“Oh, you bet I’ll show you.” He picks up a rock. From the very limited knowledge you have about skipping rocks, you know his isn’t going to work very well. He winds up like he’s about to throw a baseball, which is also not what you’re supposed to do, and tosses it into the water.

It makes a fair amount of distance before it hits the water, you’ll give him that much. You knew this was going to be the end result, but you can’t help but laugh anyway. “That was awful.”

He bristles. “Shut up! You didn’t do any better.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m definitely closer to skipping a rock than you are.” You toss one of yours, and even though it doesn’t skip it still looks like a better throw than Karkat’s was. That’s really all that matters.

Karkat picks up another rock and holds it in his hands. “I’m going to put you in your place, Dave. Mark my words, I’m going to kick your ass by getting this rock to skip before you even know what hit you.”

He throws it underhand this time, and it splashed unceremoniously into the water. Karkat growls in frustration, already pissed off at his inability to throw a god damn rock the way he wants to.

“My guess is it’s going to be a rock.” You reply as you toss one of your rocks. It falls in with a thunk. “You’ll have a better chance at hitting me than you would getting any of those misshapen petrified shits to skip.”

He yells and throws another one. It goes right in the water again.

You throw another one, and it plops right into the water just like the rest of them. It’s not much longer before you’re both shouting and throwing rocks into the water without any intention of even trying to get them to skip across. Your supply of rocks is depleted sooner than expected.

You both stand there, breathing hard and watching the waves crashing against the shore.

“So who the fuck won?” You wonder out loud.

“It’s a tie.” Karkat says, kicking the sand. “We’re out of rocks and we both suck.”

“That’s true. Fine, a tie it is.” You turn on your heel and are about ready to suggest something else when you notice that the Mayor still has his rocks piled by his feet. “Mayor, how come you didn’t throw any of yours?”

He shrugs. You and Karkat looked like you were having fun, he didn’t want to interrupt.

You feel bad for accidentally leaving him out. That’s the opposite of what this day’s supposed to be about. “Before we do anything else, you should at least throw one. You were a part of this competition, too.”

“Didn’t he already win, since we both tied for last?”

“Well yeah, but you can’t be a real winner without throwing at least one rock.”

The Mayor takes a rock off of his pile. You and Karkat both watch as he approaches the water slowly before throwing it.

It skips.

It skips five fucking times.

“Holy shit.”

“Is that what we were supposed to be doing?” Karkat asks incredulously. “I don’t think I’m physically capable of doing that.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You admit. “Fuck, he made it look so easy. Mayor, how the hell did you do that?”

He doesn’t answer you and throws another rock. This one also skips. He picks up another one and tosses it. That one skips, too. Damn, all this time you spent with the Mayor and you didn’t even know he was a rock skipping champion. You think you know a guy.

“Could you show us how to do that?” Karkat asks after the Mayor’s fourth rock skips three times across the water.

The Mayor nods and places a rock in both Karkat’s and your hands. You watch carefully as he gives a slow demonstration of what he’s doing. You both try to copy him as best you can. Yours still falls right in. Karkat somehow manages to get his to skip once. Just the once.

Once is enough, though.

“I did it!” Karkat yells excitedly, pumping his fist in the air. “Fucking finally! Dave, did you see that? Mine skipped! I beat you!”

“Yeah, I saw.” You sigh in defeat. As much as you would have loved to beat him, you don’t really mind losing. Karkat’s so fucking ecstatic about winning a dumb rock throwing game, it’s actually adorable. “I guess I just can’t skip rocks.”

“You’re damn right, you can’t!” Karkat grins. “And now you have to french my sand foot!”

“Whoa, wait, I never agreed to that.”

“Yes, you did! Don’t lie to me, Dave. Loser has to kiss my feet, sorry them’s the rules. I don’t make them, I just enforce them. Now get down and do it, asshole.”

“No, that’s gross.”

“Of course it’s gross, but you have to do it because you lost.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“Do it.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Do it or I’ll rub my foot on your face.”

“Fine,” you start inching backwards, “do it.”

“I will,” he moves closer to you, “just stop moving first.”

“No,” you shake your head and take another step backwards, “if you really want to shove your foot all up in my beautiful grill, you’re going to have to catch me first.”

You bolt, kicking up sand as you run away. Karkat and the Mayor start chasing you all along the beach. You run as fast as you can, only a couple steps ahead of the other two the whole time. Karkat gets close to catching you a few times, you can feel his fingers brush against you every once in awhile.

You come to a stop without warning when you start to feel like you can’t run anymore. Karkat and the Mayor both run into you, and you all topple over into a heap in the sand. You roll over so your face isn’t pressed into the sand anymore.

“Do you give up yet?” Karkat asks, he’s breathing directly into your face. His breath smells like coffee and toothpaste.

You wrinkle your nose. “I got sand in my mouth, does that count?”

“Yeah, that can count, if you want to be a grub about it.” Karkat replies, snorting.

“I do want to be a grub about it.” You say. “That’s what I am, a big ol’ baby bug. Are you happy now?”

“As long as you can live with yourself being a big grub, then yeah, I am.” He shrugs, flopping off of you and onto the sand.

You start making a sand angel. “What do you guys want to do next?”

“I don’t know.” Karkat says, throwing his hands over his head. “We skipped rocks, we did the whole long walk along the beach thing, what else is there?”

“We could try building a sand castle, maybe splash around in the waves a little. Lunch would eventually be a good idea, too. Mayor, what do you want to do?”

The Mayor’s still sprawled halfway on you. He taps his fingers on your stomach while he thinks about his options. He settles on building a sand castle. That should be fun.

You didn’t bring anything to try and build a sand castle, so you all try your best to pile sand into something resembling a structure with just your hands. It doesn’t go very well and you just end up with a sand dome that keeps crumbling every time you try to add more to it.

You pack on too much at once, and your sand tower falls over from too much weight and half covers the Mayor with sand.

“Well, shit.” Karkat sighs, dropping the handfuls of sand he’d carried over onto the ground. “There goes all our hard work for nothing.”

“Hold up, there’s another thing we could do.” You say. “We could bury the Mayor. You know, if he’s okay with that.”

“But we like him, why the fuck would we do that?”

“Because it’s a weird fun human thing that weird fun humans do.” You explain. “And we’re not actually going to bury him, his head will still be uncovered still. Mayor, you cool with getting buried? You’re already half covered.”

He nods. You and Karkat start covering him with the sand from your failed castle until you can’t see anything except his head anymore.

“Okay,” Karkat pats another clump of wet sand over the Mayor’s feet, “this was fun, what do we do now?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Dig him out?”

“But we just finished burying him.”

You lay back down in the sand. “Bury me?”

“No, fuck that.” Karkat stands up. “There’s too much of you to bury, it’ll take forever and I don’t want to. I have better things to do.”

“Do you?” You sit up. “Like what?”

“This.” He marches straight over to the water and jumps in ankle deep before running right back out again. “Fuck, never mind, that was terrible and I regret so much.”

He shoves his feet right back into the sand. “What else should we do?”

You give it a long thought. “We could break for lunch? I got picnic stuff in my sylladex.”

Karkat and the Mayor exchange yet another one of those looks. The Mayor thinks lunch sounds like a good idea.

“Yeah.” Karkat agrees. “I could eat.”

The Mayor gets himself unburied, and the three of you head back up to the grass. You lay a blanket down and all your lunch stuff, and you all sit down and watch the water while you eat.

After you finish with lunch, you go right back to the water’s edge. You chase each other and splash around and play in the sand for hours, right up until it gets colder and the sun starts to set. The three of you head back up to the Mayor’s house and drop him off. You’re both sad to leave him, but he still has things he has to do tomorrow, and technically so do you. You’re already all making plans for next time, when you want to get a full tour of Can Town. The Mayor is more than happy with this arrangement and is already thinking up which destinations to go to first when you leave him.

“Okay,” you wrap an arm around Karkat, “are you ready to go?”

“Can’t we just walk for a little bit?” Karkat grumbles, dragging his feet. “It’s such a nice night, and I don’t want to go home yet.”

“Please, you just don’t want to fly.”

“That, too.” He agrees, shrugging. “I’m not ashamed to admit it, I’d rather go on a long walk with you than a short trip being carried like a bunch of god damned luggage.”

“You’re not luggage.” You ruffle his hair. “But we can walk around for a little bit longer if you want.”

“Yeah,” he nods, nuzzling into your chest a bit. Karkat’s still sweaty and hot from all the running around you both did. You feel sticky, but it’s alright. “that’d be good.”

Karkat made a good point, it’s nice out tonight, and it’s even nicer having him here with you. You walk around together with Karkat’s head on your shoulder while the moon rises and the stars blink to life above you to light your path back home.

#long post #fic request #davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #the mayor #fanfic #I went a little overboard with this one #sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted #I hope you like it #it's pretty much every cliché beach episode of an anime ever #at least that's what it felt like while I was writing it #yo it's a fic and I wrote it

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