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Solovei:
As a companion to the SSSS fanart thread, I give you... the SSSS fanfiction thread! Because not all of us can be amazing artists.

Some Rules
1. Keep it PG-13! If it's above that rating, please post it somewhere else (Google docs, your blog, whatever) and share a link to it instead.
2. If it's really really long (more than 1000 words), also post a link to it.
3. Prose only, please! If you want to share a poem, it goes into this thread instead.
4. Commenting on other people's stories is fine, but keep it respectful and constructive. Saying that the story could be improved with more dialogue is okay, saying that a certain pairing/idea is stupid is not.

Also, here's where you can find some of the fics in this thread:

Archive of Our Own
Fanfiction.net

A couple of people wanted some help using AO3; I've compiled a little walkthrough here

Solovei:
To start us off, here is a little thing I posted on the comments earlier, in which Emil tries to teach Lalli some stuff (and fails... maybe?)

A Lesson

Emil had drawn the night watch again; he was beginning to think the Dane had rigged the lots out of some misplaced spite towards him personally. Still, Lalli was usually up during the night anyway, and spending time with the scout wasn’t too bad, once you got over the fact that he didn’t understand anything you said. It was kind of nice, in a way.

“-- So anyway, this guy I was in training with, he thought he was the best at everything, but clearly he was just trying to show off in front of the girls, you know? It was really pathetic!” He finished with a self-satisfied laugh, raising his arms to stretch his back. As always, the Finnish teenager said nothing, the expression on his face that of slightly bored apprehension as he sat with his arms folded over his knees, rifle at his side.
“You know, Lalli, one of these days we should have an actual conversation. That would be nice, right? Maybe I could teach you some words or something while we’re out here...”
This seemed to pique the scout’s interest, as he sat up and glanced at Emil with an almost imperceptible smile. He tapped his chin, looking at their surroundings. There wasn’t much, really.
“Um… lets see…” At this point, he made an exaggerated shivering gesture. “It’s cold, right? Kallt?”
He got a few blinks in reply, but this didn’t deter him. He was a Swede after all, and if Swedes gave up this easily, they would not have reclaimed so much of their lands, or built a city as magnificent as Mora.
 “Okay, maybe that’s too hard... “ after all, cold was a very abstract term. You can’t touch cold, at least not when it’s in the air. Maybe he should look for something more solid, something real. He pointed excitedly to the small fire they’d been allowed to set up to keep warm during the night. “Brasa. Can you say that, Lalli? Braaa-sa.”
This time, the Finn nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything in response. Emil was starting to feel a bit silly, sitting out here and saying random words and waving his hands like an idiot. He pointed up to the full moon. “Månen?” Surely he would understand that, he was the one that summoned the thing, supposedly. But once again there was only a small nod and nothing else to suggest comprehension.
“Ugh, I give up.” He said finally and bit off a chunk of his meat jerky in frustration, staring into the dancing flames. For a while, everything was quiet; only the howling wind broke the night-time silence. They had picked a good spot to make camp for the night, and the chance of an attack here was minimal, but Sigrun had insisted on setting up a rotating watch anyway. He was about to start dozing off, just for a short while… it was fine, really, because Lalli was right there and he was much better at this than...
“Emil…”
The sound of his name snapped him awake. It was his turn to blink now - Lalli had never, ever called him by name before. His features softened somewhat and he smiled before realizing that the scout was pointing at something off in the distance.
The smile vanished. “Go get the others. We need to leave.” 

SeaAngel:
Heeeeeey, writers ARE artists >:C What discrimination is this??

Also, I loved your fanfiction! I have a feeling Lalli wouldn't even nod, but meh :P
More, please!!! :D :D :D ;D

Nimphy:
Hehe... I feel really nervous about sharing fanfiction with this community (what if you all think I'm a horrible writer amd person and despise me for the rest of your lives?!), but I think I shall write somthing. Dammit, I'm supposed to be writing for NaNo and now I'll soend so many hours on this thread. Well, toooo baaad  :D

Also, vey nice story, Solovei! The characterization is very good, and Emil trying to teach Lalli Swedish is very cute. I like the ending, too - even if forna brief moment I had thought that it was Lalli giving that command, and I was really confused (how could Emil understand him?)

Solovei:
In this installment, Emil wakes up from a weird dream!

Dreams

“He’ll be back before you even get out of bed”, Sigrun had said.

There was rather a nice bench here in the cockpit or whatever it was called; he had tried to sleep in one of the bunks but the Dane’s snoring was making it impossible, so Tuuri agreed to switch. It took him some time to find a comfortable position, but finally he stretched his legs out onto the dashboard and drifted off sometime around what he thought was midnight.

Emil was dreaming about food. Or rather, he had been dreaming about the Giant that attacked them on the Dalahästen. He was trying to get away from it, only the train went on forever; also, the giant was composed entirely out of spaghetti and meatballs. This made it only slightly less terrifying, but the smell was really the worst part - like butter and salt and some herb he didn’t know the name of. It was so delicious he kept wanting to stop and try a bit before remembering how dangerous it was and running again.

Caught between fear and hunger, he didn’t hear the metallic clunk of the door opening and closing.

He felt a weight pressing on his chest. In the dream, the spaghetti monster had cornered him with a noodly appendage, and he was trying to decide if he should take a bite out of the thing or just reach for a weapon of some kind. Would it still be infected if it was made out of pasta? It would probably burn pretty well, that was certain.

Emil blinked himself awake, slowly realizing where he was - the cockpit of their vehicle. It was approaching daybreak, and the first rays of a late autumn sun were getting ready to break the horizon. He was about to smile thinking how pretty it looked, even if it was incredibly dangerous, but he quickly realized that the weight from his dream was still there. The cleanser coughed a few times and tried to sit up, only to hear a rather disgruntled whine.

“...Lalli?”
“ei…”
“Lalli, get off. I can’t brea--”
“ynnh~”

He sighed quietly and resigned himself to his fate, pulling out the blanket he had mostly kicked off during the night and draping it carefully over the scout. Idly, Emil wondered if he was dreaming about something too.

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