Untitled drabble (2015-09-09)

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Being a hooker is not unlike being a pair of shoes. Sometimes clients just want something cheap, sometimes they want something expensive. Some of them have really weird tastes and will insist on the strangest styles and others just want something plain and simple. No matter what, though, we are always something beneath them. Not a someone who maybe deserves a little fucking respect.

That being said, we always want to be the one chosen because if we aren’t well… shoes don’t have to eat or pay rent, but we aren’t actually shoes now are we?

~

“I don’t like this, miss. I don’t like this one bit,” the driver says, shoulders hunched nervously and hands twitching around the steering wheel. His eyes are staring steadily forward, as if, so long as he doesn’t look at the people loitering on the sidewalks, they don’t exist.

“You’ve already said that, Rupert, multiple times,” the woman in the back seat says, exasperated but fond. Unlike her driver, she is examining the people outside with the careful focus of someone on a mission. Which, in a way, she kind of is.

“Keep going, Rupert,” she sighs, forlornly, when none of them match what she’s looking for, "I don’t think we’ll find someone here.“ All of them are too… something. Or not enough something. She doesn’t need perfection, but she hasn’t yet seen anyone who meets her standards.

"Yes, miss,” the driver says thankfully, shakily.

The woman’s fingers drum against her door in impatience, a staccato of light thumps. Her deadline is drawing closer, and if she doesn’t find anyone soon…

“Wait!” She shouts, startling her driver into a jerky stop, both of them jostling in their seats, seat belts straining.

A tall figure, broad shouldered–probably not the usual choice, considering how far he is from the more coveted lit positions. His clothes are tight and revealing, but more as if they are things he has owned for a long time, things he’s comfortable in and is only just beginning to out grow. His shirt has flowers on it.

She grins, “He’ll do nicely, don’t you think so, Rupert?”

“Please don’t expect me to answer that, miss,” Rupert says, still so nervous, but he doesn’t stop her from rolling down her window.

The man in the floral shirt and ripped up jeans saunters closer to the car, seductive but still wary and, maybe, a little surprised.

“Hello,” the woman says, “How would you like to make some money?”

“Well I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” the man retorts, then winces as if he didn’t mean to say that.

Instead of being insulted, the woman just laughs, “Oh, you’re perfect. Come in, let’s have dinner while we discuss the details.” There is the click of the door unlocking.

The man hesitates, clearly weighing the offer in his mind. An extensive discussion could mean some really freaky shit and leaving means missing out on any other potential clients. But he hasn’t had anyone else show any interest, and he is pretty hungry.

“Your pick of restaurant,” the woman adds, sweetening the deal.

With a shrug, the man enters the car.

~

A/N: Uh…. um. I have no idea. There’s more to this, and I may continue this tomorrow just to get it out of my head.

I don’t actually know anything about sex work outside of media and fic so… ??? I don’t mean to insult anyone and I am totally open to corrections or whatever to make it not so… :/

EDIT: CONTINUED HERE

Iron Will drabble (2015-09-08)

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“I’m sorry,” Zuko says to you, so softly that you can barely hear it; softly so no one else can hear. It wouldn’t do to have anyone hear the Fire Lord apologize to a war criminal soon to be executed.

You say nothing in response, but you nod minutely–in acknowledgement, in forgiveness, in permission–before you are led forward in chains and forced to kneel.

For crimes against humanity; that’s what you are charged with. It’s certainly what you are guilty of, for all that they didn’t seem human at the time. The Fire Nation soldiers you killed, that is.

It was war and you were a child just trying to survive, you could argue. You never harmed civilians, you could say. And you would be telling the truth.

But it doesn’t excuse the way you crept into the homes and slit the throats of over a hundred Fire Nation soldiers. Killed them in their sleep, in the dark of the night, and left their corpses for their families to find.

Accessions must be made for peace. It does not matter that you are friends with the Fire Lord, with the Avatar; Zuko’s rule is tenuous, Aang’s authority non existant in the Fire Nation. In order for Azula and Ozai to be executed, in order to secure the throne in Zuko’s name, an Earth Kingdom criminal must be dealt the same punishment.

You know this, because you were the one to suggest it.

~

You are six the last time you see your sister, ZhuEn. She is fifteen and father has proclaimed her a skilled enough bounty hunter to begin working on her own. She leaves on the back of her shirshu, off to make a name for herself, and you dream of one day being just like her. It was a bittersweet time–happier, lighter, but the last moment of such contentment.

You are seven when Fire Nation soldiers kill your father for refusing to take a hunt. You are seven when you see him burn and you flee, more from his agonized screams than the towering armored figures. You never really forgive yourself for that.

You live for years, just wandering from forest to forest; occasional stops in towns, wreaking what damage to the Fire Nation army you can by way of murder and theft.

You try to convince yourself you are a hero, but you have always been more of a coward than a liar. There is no point in hiding the truth from yourself.

You are fourteen when you happen upon the Freedom Fighters, the group of refugee children playing at guerrilla warriors. You are not quite the same as them, but you see something in Jet’s eyes–a reflection of someone you could have been–and maybe he sees something in you, too, because he lets you stay.

Perhaps lets is the wrong word, because in a matter of months you find yourself clashing with Jet more and more often. About ideology and implementations–you are a blade where he is a bludgeon. The Freedom Fighters grow, but it also begins to split between you and him, and you are so close to just taking your faction and leaving when–

You are fifteen when you meet the Avatar.

~

A/N: An SI!OC Avatar the Last Airbender fic that won’t leave me alone. Not sure why it’s in second person, but okay… The original idea was that this would be my SI!OC’s fourth reincarnation (after our world, katekyo hitman reborn, naruto, and something else) which is why I’m tagging it with Tetsuki Kaiza. But I think I’m just going to scrap that idea… though the title won’t make much sense without the name Tetsuki…

I always wonder what would descendants be like if Carlos was a girl and rest of the gang were guys and were like her overprotective brothers! Or Mal could accidentally turn Carlos into a girl, and suddenly the guys at Audran Prep notice he is cute!

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Hm… I’m always kind of hesitant about gender/sex bend fic. When done right they are amazing to read, but it’s pretty difficult to do right–there’s a lot of tricky parts that need to be maneuvered around with sensitivity and there are points where you have to consider how much of a personality is due to sex (in that, unfortunately in society, people of different sexes are held to different standards and so develop differently). Like, how much change is too much? At what point do the characters we know and love become unrecognizable.

In the always!female!Carlos and always!male!Mal, Evie, and Jay… hm… there would be changes in how the parents treat their children in that case. For example, Maleficent and Grimhilde treat canon Mal and Evie as extensions of themselves/their second chances–essentially, their daughters are them. Whereas with Cruella, she treats canon Carlos as a (heh) dogsbody/minion.

If all three of them were to have sex bends I think that would also change–Cruella would probably raise Carlos (Carla?) to be a leader of minions instead of to be her own minion. A lot of Grimhilde’s advice to Evie is how to get a prince to marry–but if Evie is male then that means he would be the prince so Grimhilde would raise him to be as stereotypically prince-like as possible. Basically, training him to go on quests so he can win the hand of whichever princess he rescues. Maleficent and Mal’s relationship wouldn’t be too different except for how Mal is further from the duplicate image of Maleficent, so he would be even more desperate to prove himself to his mother.

All that being said, I do think that, yes, if the gang were female!Carlos, male!Mal, Evie, and Jay then the latter three would be very protective of the former. Carlos would be Evie’s “practice princess” in a way–like how children play make believe–while her lack of magic would make Mal think she were ridiculously fragile (especially in comparison to Maleficent’s overt magical presence). With Jay, since I figure female!Carlos would be less hostile than canon Mal and less beguiling than canon Evie, Jay would be more protective of female!Carlos. I mean, Jay is already pretty protective of the others in canon so it could only increase for a female!Carlos. Female!Carlos would be more hardened and cunning than her canon male counterpart, but ultimately I don’t think she would treat the others like her minions (that’s what Horace and Jasper’s kids are for); like her protectors, maybe, but not her minions.

As for shipping… hm… well, I’ve got to be faithful to Benlos–and if anything, female!Carlos would be an irresistible blend of canon!Mal and canon!Carlos for Ben. I would be absolutely fascinated by a male!Mal x Audrey ship–I’m always a sucker for the enemies to lovers trope. I also have a soft spot for Devie (aka, DougxEvie) but I’m not entirely sure how well that would translate to male!Evie x Doug… it’d be a mix of bad-boy/jock + nerd… As for Chad, well. I hate Chad. HATE. So I am pretty sure the Lost kids would be even less tolerant of his douchebaggery if it’s Carlos he tries to exploit–and anyway, female!Carlos would be less vulnerable to a handsome prince than canon!Evie. 

As for the second part of your ask… there’s a difference between gender/sex bend fic and… well, I don’t know if there’s a better term for it… gender/sex fucks. That is, instead of always!female!Carlos, it would be a temporarily!female!Carlos. The latter can be funny and silly, but I’m concerned with the phrasing? Like, why do the guys at Auradon Prep suddenly realize he’s cute when he’s female? Why did they not realize it sooner (like Ben)? That goes into exploring the sexualities of random Auradon guys who I don’t particularly care about?

I don’t think Carlos would do anything if he were suddenly turned female–I think it would be mostly the other Lost kids doing stuff. Like Evie having another model who actually enjoys clothes, Jay glaring daggers at all the Auradon guys who keep trying to ask out Carlos just because he’s suddenly female, and Mal trying to figure out how to reverse it. 

Maaaybe the only one I’d accept Carlos actually dating when suddenly female would be Ben (because, yes, I’m a Benlos shipper, but also he’s the only Auradon guy who showed any interest in Carlos before his sudden magical sex swap), but I’m not really sure where the plot would go from there. Unless it’s a story about gender dysphoria, in which having accidentally been turned female Carlos realizes that he actually wants to be a she. Thus all of her friends (+Ben) are her support system as she transitions (mentally, since Mal’s magic already took care of the physical part).

Uh.. but yes, sorry for all that heavy text. Here are some pictures for what I think I female Carlos may look like:

image
image

(This is Quin as photographed by James McCloud)

Can u write a scene where Mal tries a love spell for Ben, she mess up so badly that it ends up where all the students( and maybe some of the teachers) fall for Carlos

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Untitled Descendants drabble (2015-09-06)

In one universe, while the four Lost kids are working on love potion cookies, Lonnie walks in, adds chocolate chips, cries, then leaves. With a tear of human sadness and despite the addition of chocolate, the potion works as advertised, making the consumer fall in love with the first person they see. In that universe, it makes Ben fall in love with Mal.

This is not that universe.

In this universe, Lonnie does not appear. There are no chocolate chips or tears of human sadness, and so there are no enchanted cookies. They have to use a different spell. One less… controllable.

“I can barely read anything on this page,” Mal complains, spell book flipped open to a different section.

“Let me see,” Evie says, and Mal lays the book flat so all of them can look.

They stare.

“Are you sure those are words?” Jay asks incredulously, not even flinching when Mal smacks his arm, because, well. Scribbles would be a generous description.

“The pictures are pretty clear,” Carlos says optimistically. Even if magic isn’t one of his skills, he has experience with making things work with patchwork instruction manuals–surely it’s the same with spells. It really isn’t.

“I suppose… We don’t have any other options, and we’re on a deadline.” Mal says, considering, before deciding on a course of action, “We’ll do it. Evie, first things first. We need this,” she points at the largest drawing: a flat, six petaled flower with a long thin stem. The top two petals are shaded in, no doubt meant to be a color of some sort, while the bottom four petals are left unshaded.

“Mirror, mirror… full of power,” Evie begins, “Show us where to find that flower.” The swirling silver smoke parts to show a field with dark purple and white flowers peeking through the blades of grass, a small stream flowing along one side. “Not so close,” Evie sighs, and the image zooms out to show the sign of Auradon Prep.

“It’s on campus?” Mal asks, disbelieving. Why would a key ingredient for a love spell just be growing where any student could get there hands on it? That’s stupid. Well, stupid of Auradon–convenient for her, so she shouldn’t complain.

“This campus is huge, though” Jay says, “that would still take us forever–”

“No wait,” Carlos interrupts, “I think I know where that is. I wasn’t sure, since the drawing is in black and white, but I’ve seen those flowers before.”

In the woods beyond the tourney field and bleachers is a deer trail, a narrow path that leads to a tiny meadow full of purple and white flowers. Carlos and Dude have been there before, found it on their very first day together. They go back, occasionally, if Carlos isn’t too tired from tourney practice to run around with his dog.

It’s easy to find again, even in the dark of the night. The four of them spend twenty minutes picking flowers, which, when Evie says so aloud with an amused smirk, causes Mal to scowl fiercely and Jay to stop.

“It’s for a diabolical scheme, okay. I’m not turning into some kind of airhead who sings to animals.” Mal says crossly, before adding, “Keep picking, Jay.”

“How many do we even need?” He grumbles, but does as she says anyway.

“Well, seeing as how we don’t have actual instructions, we need as many as we can get.”

In the end, they clear the field, flowers gathered into Carlos’ jacket as an impromptu bag, before heading back to the boys’ dorm room. They have a love spell to figure out.

But even if the pictures are pretty clear–flower, eyes, heart–the lack of words really is a problem. Not an insurmountable problem, no, but it definitely leaves a lot to interpretation. Like, say, everything.

“Ugh,” Mal groans after attempt almost two hours of trying to decode the scribbles, “Maybe we should go back to the first spell.”

“Tear of human sadness,” Jay reminds her with a grunt, sprawled on his bed and nearly half asleep, but stubbornly blinking his eyes open.

Mal just groans again, throwing her head forward into the cradle of her curled arms on the table.

“Why don’t we just wing it?” Carlos’ voice pipes up from behind her, where he and Evie have been lounging on his bed.

“You mean like the museum heist? Winging it like that?” Mal scoffs without looking up.

“Well, not quite like that,” Evie says coyly, “We have more than enough of these flowers, we can take our time and experiment. Imagine the havoc we can wreak on the school.”

That idea does sound appealing, Mal lifts her head and even Jay sits up in interest. Then startles–“What are you wearing?” He asks.

Mal turns and frowns at what she sees.

Carlos weaving a small wreath of the flowers around Dude’s neck, and Evie straightening a larger wreath as a crown on Carlos’ head.

Mal would scold them for using up their main ingredient, but the four of them really did pick an awful lot of those flowers. They have plenty to spare. But… just so it’s not a total waste, “You’re wearing that to classes tomorrow.”

Who knows, maybe something interesting will happen.

~

A/N: Uh… so first off–thanks for the prompt anon! And… well, sorry it wasn’t exactly what you prompted and more like the prequel to your prompt, instead. Mostly that’s because as I was about halfway through, I realized that the way I set it up this would have to be a complete derailment of the movie. Aaaand I don’t really know how to mesh that plot with this. But… yeah. This was pretty fun.

The flower I have in mind is Viola tricolor, aka heartsease, aka love-in-idleness, aka the flower that Puck gets the love potion from in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It also has the nifty built-in myth of changing colors–from white to purple when doing love magic.

Basically, the idea of Carlos in a magical flower crown and the whole Puck vibe he’s rocking during Set It Off! (specifically this part ) is really good for me.

image

Hope you enjoy!

edit: now on ao3 as part of Nameless, Worthy (Infamous)

Ain’t No Rest, part 3/? (2015-09-05)

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Carlos is smart.

He’s really fucking smart, okay. He is probably the only person in the entire world who can outsmart magic.

But Carlos is also scared. And it’s because he’s so smart that he’s scared.

Because ingenuity isn’t the same as prescience or telepathy or even strategic thinking. He can take down the barrier, sure, but that doesn’t mean he knows what to do afterwards. Or how to deal with the consequences.

Luckily, he’s not alone–he has his gang, his family–they’re the entire reason why he took down the barrier in the first place. Over the years, his friends’ powers have only grown stronger: Evie’s predictions becoming more accurate, more certainties that probabilities. On those occasions when she’s unsure, people’s intentions switching mid-action or just not existing, well, that’s where Jay can pick up the slack. And Mal’s tactical prowess, while not magical, has always been impressive. As they grew, so too did their abilities–magic and not.

Unfortunately, while strength has always been held in high esteem on the Isle, for four kids trying to keep a secret, it was their downfall.

No, not kids, they’ve grown up. Adults. Carlos knows that their age shouldn’t have mattered, but it’s still something that hangs over them. A heavy what if; wondering if youth would have protected them. If it would have fulfilled one of the conditions to their parents’ tenuous, contingent love.

Because instead of seeing their children, Maleficent, Grimhilde, and Jafar had only seen rivals. Worse, rivals with a secret, rivals with magic.

Which left the the gang two options: fight or run. The truth of the matter is, they probably would have won, but not without killing; and for all that their parents’ love is conditional, theirs is not.

And so Carlos took down the barrier–only for a short window of time–and they fled.

The thing about having two options is that, really, it’s three options. The third option being to do both. Yes, they flee the Isle, not wanting to kill their parents despite them having no qualms about doing the same. But that doesn’t mean they won’t go back and fight.

The just need to pick up a few things first, so it doesn’t turn into parenticide. Things in Auradon. Things held in varying levels of security in Auradon. Things like, say, a certain genie lamp, a particular glass coffin, a specific bell jar, and the only magic wand worth the term.

~

Here is something Evie does not know yet. Her gift has not shown it to her, because it is not relevant. Not yet. It will be.

When Carlos took down the barrier, it wasn’t four people who left the Isle. It was ten.

~

A/N: For cyclesofthemoon who prompted “Carlos is” Which is a bit sparser than I expected for a prompt, but no less appreciated. Also, for that anon who asked about Ain’t No Rest. (jalencolbert is that you again?)

Because I haven’t forgotten it, but I have been putting it off. Because… yeah, I kind of realized I used a lot of what I was originally planning on doing in Ain’t No Rest in A Tale of Two Kingdoms instead… and then I also lost track of the plot. Basically, I was scared–I really want this to be amazing, but I have greatly reduced my options/abilities to do so. 😦

Subconscious uses crippling self-doubt!

It’s very effective!

But, mrgh, hopefully I can kickstart my enthusiasm for this story.

edit: switched about some lines for better flow.

Counterpoise AU drabble (2015-09-04)

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“Be careful,” a mother says to her daughter, “Stick to the paths we’ve marked. If you stray, you might end up in danger,” she warns. But the mother lets her daughter go, anyway, because how will her daughter ever learn if she doesn’t go?

The daughter–perhaps she is named after a flower–heeds her mother’s words; for a while. But there is much to explore in the forest, so many sights and sounds and scents to follow that she before she knows it, she has gotten quite lost.

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem–everyone in her family can retrace their steps, follow the route they’ve taken by the lingering remains of themselves in the air–but she finds that her scent has disappeared.

No, it’s been washed away.

It’s as if a rain has fallen, drops of water still clinging to leaves and bark, turning the ground a shade of moistened darkness. But the sky had been sunny the entire time, and she hadn’t heard the percussion of rainfall.

She reaches out to touch a tree, damp from the mysterious not-rain that washed away the traces of her scent. The water is cold against her fingertips, as if only one degree away from becoming ice. She pulls away quickly, rubbing warmth back into her hand.

“What are you doing here?” A voice asks, low but sweet, like the juices of a fruit lingering on the tongue.

The daughter, the girl maybe named after a flower, startles. Turns to face the other.

The questioner is a little girl as well, smaller and younger than herself, with brilliantly bright red hair.

“I’m lost,” she answers truthfully, trustingly.

And the other girl, with hair so red and eyes so gray, smiles. It should be nothing to a girl whose own mouth is filled with fangs, and yet…

“I can help you, if you’d like,” the little girl says, hand outstretched beseechingly.

And when she takes that hand in her own, all she can think of is the feeling of water so close to ice.

~

A/N: I’m… not sure exactly? I had a vague idea of sort of reversing the Little Red Riding Hood story, but it sort of adjusted itself to become a Counterpoise AU in which Hana Inuzuka (okay, I know the Hana is supposed to be nose not flower, but I liked the parallel because in some versions of LRRH she’s named Rose Red) gets lost and a creepy, amoral!Konran (who has a water affinity) basically scares the crap out of her.

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Your Hands On My Heart (a Mal x Evie fanmix)

  1. Fantasy by Ms Mr
  2. Shankill Butchers / Once Upon A Dream by Mountain Strings
  3. Glory and Gore by Lorde
  4. My Best Friend Is You by Kate Nash
  5. I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Jayme Dee
  6. Heart Skips A Beat by Lenka
  7. Closer by Tegan & Sera
  8. Untouched by The Veronicas
  9. No Sleep Tonight by The Faders
  10. Animal by Ke$ha
  11. Tigerlily by La Roux
  12. Bottom of the River by Delta Rae
  13. Clarity by Regina Zaremba
  14. Cosmic Love by Florence +The Machine
  15. We Found Love by Ingrid Michaelson
  16. Indestructible by Robyn

Find it here!
(The link sends you to a mediafire folder, only the zip file is necessary for the entire mix)

~

A/N: So part of the reason why I didn’t do a post yesterday was because, while creating a fanmix for Evie, I kept stumbling on songs that better fit Evie in love–specifically, Evie in love with Mal. Hence, this Mal x Evie fanmix. What is their portmanteau, anyway? Malvie? Mevie?

If there are any issues with the download link, please let me know so I can figure out how to fix it. Again, only the zip file is necessary to download the entire mix.

Enjoy!

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The Girl You’d Die For (an Evie fanmix)

  1. Primadonna by Marina & The Diamonds
  2. Dreamer by Elizaveta
  3. Problem Queen (ft. Norah Jones) by Danger Mouse & Daniele Luppi
  4. Serial Killer by Lana Del Rey
  5. In For The Kill by La Roux
  6. Shake It Out by Florence + The Machine
  7. That’s Alright by Laura Mvula
  8. Wicked World by Laura Jansen
  9. Don’t You Mourn The Sun by MiMi & the MAD NOiSE FACTORY
  10. Bulletproof by La Roux
  11. Don’t Put Dirt On My Grave Just Yet (Orchestral Version) by Hayden Panettiere
  12. Human by Gabrielle Aplin
  13. Black Sheep by Metric
  14. Hungry Eyes by NONONO
  15. Everything At Once by Lenka
  16. Bubblegum Bitch (Writes Sins Not Tragedies) by Marina & The Diamonds

Find it here!
(The link sends you to a mediafire folder, only the zip file is necessary for the entire mix)

~

A/N: A fanmix for Evie, because she deserves one and I’ve had a few songs stuck in my head that I personally think matches her quite well. The most difficult part of this mix was actually deciding what order to put the songs in. To be honest, I’m still not fully satisfied, but I figured I ought to cut my losses and post it as is.

If there are any issues with the download link, please let me know so I can figure out how to fix it. Again, only the zip file is necessary to download the entire mix.

Enjoy!

Counterclockwise (2015-09-01)

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“This is our secret,” he says, within the small unmonitored room of the bank, where customers can check the contents of their safety deposit boxes in privacy. “This was my mother’s legacy to me, and now my legacy to you.”

You look inside. The box under his name–now your name, too–is a small one but it is held deep within the bank’s vault. Old, rare. It marks you and your father as elite patrons of the bank, before the more acceptable term ‘premium members’ began being used. Despite the paltry sums of money in your actual bank accounts.

Inside the old metal box is yet another box, a wooden one, the varnish has worn away from age. The area around the latch is a different color, the oil of generations worth of hands opening and closing the box. Within the wooden box, the inside lined with a red velvet similarly faded away with time, is a pocket watch.

You don’t know much about pocket watches, but this one looks unremarkable to your eyes. The front cover is metal, a simple repeating pattern of swirls etched into it. At your father’s nod, you reach in, pick the watch up, and open it. The numbers are roman numerals, but other than that it looks like any watch you can buy from anywhere. No gems or intricate designs, no additional smaller clocks within the face. The chain, too, is simple.

This is not a very impressive inheritance, you don’t say, but your expression must give away your skepticism. Your father laughs, amused, not offended at all.

“In time, you will see,” he says, clapping a hand to your shoulder, before gesturing back to the box, prompting you to return the watch to its place of rest.

It’s not impressive, but you are careful with it, nonetheless, laying it gently within the circular indentation of the velvet cushion. The chain you wind slowly around in a short spiral, before closing the lids of the wooden box then the metal box.

“That’s it?” You ask your father, as the both of you leave the privacy booth, as he waves down the banker who will help you return the safety deposit box to the vault.

He presses the key into your hand, “That’s it for now,” he responds mildly.

Two years later, you will finally understand what he meant.

~

A/N: HAHAHAHAA, I dunno. Just a quick thing that’s vague and unrelated but is really helping with my strange writer’s block.

I do have an original fiction that sort of starts like this, but I scrapped that because it was all kinds of shuddery and awkward. Maybe I can revamp it. It was originally called Time Taggers, so you can see why I would need to revamp it.

And yes, there’s time travel involved.

Oh, wait, apparently I did write a somewhat related drabble earlier this year.