Chapter 13-Writing

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"You're making me write this? Really?" you groan as you look at your sprawling handwriting and set down the quill.

The page glows orange and the words begin to change their font into a fancy calligraphy.

"It's not the end of the world." 

"It literally is. And you're making me the villain. I mean, I like it, but why was that last passage so confusing and fast?"

" You like it fast."  

"This isn't fanfiction, you're literally making writing the events that will happen during the course of time."

Strange snorts and looks at you, "Of course not. But you know how Loki's are. They need that edge to feel relevant."

"I think living in this palace with only a broken piano and this darkness and your longing for Christine has driven you mad." you deadpan.

"Thought you already knew I was mad." he raised an eyebrow.

"I had hoped my hypothesis was wrong." you repeatedly bang your head on the table as he conjures another pile of paper.

He grins, a flash of white contrasting his grey battered face, "I have another idea."

"You're fixing this?" you look at him pleadingly.

"I'm making it worse." he sits down and begins to tell you what to write.

"You're lucky we're friends, Strange." you say and drag your quill across the page and look at the words you've written, "Why are you meddling with Peter Parker now?"


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