#kd writes

but that aside, I hope you enjoy :)

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Is It Self Sacrifice If It's Not Really You?

Despite the cacophany of the battlefield, Prowl's scream cut through it with with the ease of a freshly sharped blade through flesh and found it's home nestled into Jazz's ears.

He barely had a second to look up, hardly more than a glance, but it was all he needed to make out familiar white and black.

A Quintesson, one of the smaller but more freaky looking ones, was looming over his collapsed frame. He was pinned, his back to solid rocky walls and the Quint at his front, jamming it's tentacles into every crack of his armour they could.

He was putting up one hell of a fight, but something was wrong.

“Coboară-n jos, Luceafăr blând, Alunecând pe scară… ”

“Râzi tu, râzi, bade, dar mâța asta a ta tot trebuie dată jos din pom!”

“Te-ai apucat să faci sluj la mâțe?” întrebă Ion, sprijinind scara proptită-n pom. “Las-o dracului, că știe să se dea jos, cum s-o și suit!”

Scara tremură sub mișcările nesigure ale lui Mihai când apucă pisica. Tremură și mai rău, cănd începu s-o coboare cu pas nesigur și mâinile ocupate. Noroc că Ion îl aștepta, prinzându-l când scara îi fugi de sub picioare. 

Trying out something new while I apparently have High Fantasy Burnout. It's been an idea for ages but I've never actually written it. Made a separate account and everything but never committed.

The academy loomed ever closer, the crumbling stone walls standing out like a sore thumb within the whites of the city. The last of the city’s gas lamps burned a sickly orange, barely illuminating the night compared to the newer white lights that killed off the stars but shone just enough to see where the dirt path cut through the grass. For all its prestige, it was a scab on the face of Kingshill. No amount of posters plastered across its walls, no amount of upgrading and building anew could change that. Against the marble walls Cooper was raised in, it was an eyesore that she couldn’t wait to officially leave. Along the white walls, advertisements for the latest sponsors were pasted, each and every one torn through the middle in an unsuccessful attempt to bring them down, only succeeding in ripping off the already peeling paint. Godrick Gears - Get Your Motor On. Lindys Industries - Be Prepared for The Future. Lancer & Co - Light Up Your World. Cooper rolled her eyes and shuffled through, fingers fumbling in the shallow pocket of her sleep trousers, poking through the thin ring of her room keys. It was only the rare occasion that she slept over in the dorms, she barely had a reason to. The temple was close enough for her to return, and — as much as she loved him — her assigned roommate rattled the room with his snoring.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Booker | Sebastien le Livre Additional Tags: Post-Movie, booker banishment travels!, y'all i just love one depressed french disaster, Don't hate me for it, No Romance, Just Friendship, and nerdy stuff :))), mentions of Andy's mortality and upcoming death though Summary:

After the immortal family exiles him for one-hundred years, Booker decides to travel around Europe for a bit. Starting in Amsterdam. Once there, he takes a trip down memory lane, visits a few of his favorite places and makes a friend.

Angel/Texas and Alex/Louisiana are @texass-shenanigans ocs Emily/Oklahoma Miles/Missouri Heni/Kansas Andrew/Arkansas

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Heni just stared at Miles. “That was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Is it, though? Is it really?”

Heni opened her mouth to reply, then (mercifully, in Miles’ opinion) shut it again before looking at Emily. Emily just shrugged. What Miles had done was pretty stupid, but he’d done a lot of stupid things in the past, too. Some of which Emily had joined in, to be fair; she really couldn’t judge.

The door to the bathroom swung open as Angel stepped in and turned to the first aid kit that had been removed from below the sink. He took out some disinfectant wipes and bandages and shooed Heni and Emily out of the way so he could tend to the bruises and scrapes on Miles’… everything, really.

After applying a bandage to a newly cleaned cut above Miles’ eye, Angel sighed, “What the hell happened? I get home and dogs are going crazy, the cellar doors are nearly hanging off their hinges, and Andrew is gibbering about Ouija boards and roller blades!”

“Ok, first of all, there were no Ouija boards, Andrew’s just dramatic-,” Miles ignored the incredulous looks he got for that, “- and secondly, I didn’t know your dogs were gonna get so worked up over a little roller blade accident.”

“You crashed into the cellar! They freaked out because it sounded like a bull had got loose!”

“Details,” Miles waved off Angel’s interjection.

Emily giggled at the scene while Heni grew even more exasperated, saying “Miles, who the fuck roller skates with heels?”

Glancing over, Miles returned Heni’s irritation with a smirk, chirping, “It’s about the aesthetic, Henrietta, obviously. And I did just fine until the rock got in my way.”

Heni just shook her head. “Really, this has got to be the stupidest thing…”

“He tried to summon a demon in his brother’s basement,” Angel said.

“Excuse you, we,” Miles gestured to himself and Emily, “tried to summon a… well, technically you could call it a demon, but that’s not the point; It was a group effort.”

Before anyone else could add to that, footsteps rushed down the hallway to the door. Where Andrew poked his head in, out of breath.

“The dogs are back where they need to be and the cellar is, well… the doors are closed as they can be. Oh and Miles, Alex just got home, so can I have your computer when he kills you?”

Hello, fellow MCU maniacs, as we all mourn and celebrate the ending of a 22 film journey, I jumped onto the tumblr bandwagon and fel more in love with Peter Parker/Spider-Man/Tom Holland than before. SO I'm dusting off my creatively blocked brain with some fic even though I haven't written anything in months. This is also my first Marvel fic, so pretty please bear with my crap.

Across the Universe

A slight AU inspired by the original fan theory that those snapped by Thanos were all more or less coherent in the Soul Stone. The stone draws out internal truths that you never know existed, all while getting to know Spider-Man.

Warnings: Infinity War and eventual Endgame angst.

Nothing more than a shade, you wandered around the orange abyss for who knew how long. It felt like days, maybe even weeks, since you felt your body fall backwards into oblivion, fading to darkness and waking up here.

Alone.

You had no idea what was happening, one minute your boyfriend was getting down on one knee and the next was this.

Did you fall and obtain a traumatic head injury? A coma inducing seizure? You couldn't know, struggled for days to listen for his voice, a hospital monitor beeping, anything. But nothing.

You’d already screamed, already cried, bargained. You’d gone through the five stages the situation allowed. You were pretty sure your life was over, but whatever this afterlife was, you figured it could've been worse. Lonely, but not a tormenting loneliness. You could handle it, though you mildly longed for interactions.

So much, in fact, you thought you were hearing voices, now. It was faint, but echoes bounced between your ears. Maybe you were going crazy.

“We’re not alone, don't give up.”

You startled at the clear whisper. It was a young woman, voice shaking and teary, but loud and calm enough to be heard. You didn't know the voice, but it was cathartic to hear.

And just like that, people started materializing.

You heard shouting and crying and screaming and joy and desolation and confusion and people.

It looked like families and friends were reuniting, questions with no answers thrown into the air. Seemingly, everyone here was brought back to their closest acquaintances, likely who they were with when The Event happened, based on chatter you overheard. You searched for your boyfriend and came up with no one. Like you, not everyone was lucky, some remained alone, sadly and uncomfortably holding themselves, and you felt the urge to console as many as possible, despite your loss, if that's what you could call it.

The consensus was that some sort of virus struck worldwide, killing off at least half of the population. Then the aliens showed up. You were from New York, so the alien battle against the planet’s mightiest heroes a few years ago already made you aware of such reality, however other humans did not take so kindly. Luckily, in this afterlife, violence was impossible on all parts of the spectrum. But as more materialized, it became clear: not just Earth, but the entire universe, had been obliviated.

No one you knew ever appeared near you. You supposed you were grateful, this meant they’d all survived. You tried to reach out to others like you, The Singles, this world coined the term. Some of them were welcoming and some were aloof. You still offered friendship to the latter, grieving comes in many forms and you could keep it together by supporting others. You made a close friend, Nath, who was from Coney Island and majored in Film at NYU.

You guys toss around theories and small talk and film analyses nonstop, no time existed and sleep wasn't a necessity in this world, though you could and if you willed it hard enough, you could create a sort of architecture, food, landmark, almost as if you're heart could bring it into existence. The food was never as good and none of the buildings were as solid, but slowly, the community of Goners created a hodgepodge of places to thrive in.

You and Nath were analyzing The Dark Knight trilogy when you heard the same female voice, less shaken than before.

“If anyone out there can hear me, my name is Wanda Maximoff. You might know me as Scarlet Witch, of the Avengers. To anyone listening, those of our team that were Snapped have important information.”

The Soul World, as was you were now properly informed, fell into a collective silence. You listened as your ‘Snapped’ heroes reported the facts. The Mad Titan and his quest for balance collected some stones and you were all trapped in the Soul Stone. You weren't technically dead. The Avengers back on Earth could still find a way to bring you back, but how and when was unclear. Doctor Strange, from that weird library you passed by on your bus route, was blunt. One out of 14 million. But he was heavily relying on that singular chance.

Then, the theories. The Soul Stone was powered by true self, hence why people you cared about and things you loved were available to you. It was a very uplifting notion, you realized, as it meant everyone was naturally, inherently good. In reality, people harmed others out of fear and hatred grown by fear. No one feared here, this was almost rock bottom, hence why violence never appeared. Emotion was stronger here, and your own soul would gravitate to truths. Strange advised that this would be a long waiting period, but a good self journey awaited those who needed it.

But despite everything, meeting Nath and recreating your room from home and all of your favorite places, you longed for your boyfriend, whose name seemed like a fading memory. You were going to say yes, despite being seniors in high school. You were going to spend forever with him, and you knew he was mourning for you, but that the remaining Avengers would inform the world and he would wait with a hopeful heart.

So why were you not remembering your first date or his favorite color or what he wanted to major in?

And how in this godforsaken piece of shit rock prison did you end up running straight into your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man?

“Sorry,” the masked hero managed out, as you rubbed the spot on your shoulder that made contact with the...iron suit?

“‘S’cool,” you were able to say easily. “Nice new suit.”

“Oh, oh yeah,” he looked down, like he forgot what he was wearing. “I got it from Mr. Stark; I was wearing it to breathe in space before we got all dusty.”

“You were in space?” You gasped. “You weren't with you parents? I'm so sorry!” Really, you figured he about your age, so this must be just as hard for him as it was for you.

“I was with Mr. Sta-Iron Man, technically,” he shakes his head. “He looked really upset and I felt really bad that I couldn’t stay with him, but I know he’ll figure this out. He’s the smartest man I know.” He waved his arms emphatically.

“Well we all knew that,” you giggled. “He's fucking Iron Man.” You frowned. “Your parents, though?”

“My parents passed away long before The Snap,” his voice wavered slightly. “My Aunt May isn't here, so she must be worried sick, especially after she lost Uncle Ben, but I think Mr. Stark will do his best to help her understand.” He paused. “Plus she knows I'm Spider-Man. And my best friends are all here, Ned knows too but I'm don't suit up when I see everyone else.”

“I'm assuming your on patrol then?” You pondered. “Falcon said something about that to assure the masses that we’ll be okay.”

“Er, kinda,” a blue and red arm tried to scratch the back of his head. “I do, but I'm not assigned this area, despite it being predominantly New Yorkers. Strange’s area.”

“Oh? Then what brought you here?”