#AND SOMEHOW IT MESSED WITH MY HAND TO EYE COORDINATION it got rid of my inner calibration settings ig

[thedrotter]

cw blood (kind of? in different colors that dont make it look quite like it), organs

warm up + greyscale screen filter challenge !!! featuring yuuichi eating normal human (in origin) food😁😁😁

[bangtanfancamp]

∴ summary: After spending a gloomy afternoon  trying to get out of your own head alone , you finally seek out your boyfriend for help

∴ masterlist

∴ one shot

∴ pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

∴ word count: 2k

∴ rating: pg-13

∴ genre: soft angst, comfort, established relationship

∴ warnings: oc is struggling with something akin to depression, it’s alluded to but not explicitly stated

∴ author’s note: this is incredibly self indulgent and was written in one go. I’ll edit later. I’d rather have it here to share sooner in case anyone needs it as much as me.

─────────────────────

“Joonie, what are you doing? Are you busy?” Your voice comes out small as you peak around the corner into his office, sweater pawed knuckles sneaking around the edge of the door frame.

He doesn’t look up at first. Perhaps you really were too quiet. Or maybe he’s just that immersed in his book. It’s not a cover you’ve seen before so it very well may be the latter. You know how he is when he has a new thing to get lost in. Ever your astronaut adrift, exploring the moons just beyond whatever new world he’s found.

He looks so at home now. Cozy in his den of words and letters. Perfectly domestic amidst lofty thoughts and paragraphs. His skin is mostly bare today, his coordinated tank top and shorts exposing a golden expanse of toned arms, long legs . They’re folded up and crossed, a little boy lost in wonder as he sits on his futon.

His hair is a warm chestnut this week, fringe too long around the lashes but too short to pull back. The way it refuses to cooperate when he brushes it out of his eyes, trickling silkily, stubbornly back into place, exactly where it wants to be, makes you want to chuckle.

He still hasn’t noticed you’re there. Too far gone in whatever his newest philosophy is to notice the way you study the dip of his furrowed brow, how it juxtaposes against the relief of his shadowed dimples, smiling even as he frowns. He finds so much pleasure in being studious— just for fun. No matter how much concentration it takes. You’ve always admired that about him. Admired everything about him really.

Clearing your throat, though you hate to interrupt him, you try again. 

“Joonie?”

 Somehow it’s even quieter than before, and as he turns another reverent page, you know you’ll have to physically intervene to interrupt him. You sigh. You hate to break the spell. He loves days like this—with the rain trickling down the window’s glass casting shadows on his focused face— he’s so happy to read when it rains.

He leans forward then without looking up to take a sip of his Earl grey, bumbling when the steam unexpectedly fogs his glasses. He laughs at himself, folding his book so it splays across the seat to mark his place and removing his glasses. It’s the first time he’s looked up. He spots you then, his face splitting into the smoothest “there’s my girl” smile you’ve ever seen.

“Hey… how long have you been standing there?” His voices comes low, warm, soothes something in you that desperately needs rest.

“Long enough to see you blind yourself with tea, it seems.” You try to smile back, but it’s a weak, floppy thing. Your cheeks can’t seem to commit so it falls a bit too flat. His brows pinch when he sees it. Something’s amiss.

“Hey… are you okay?” His inscrutable eyes analyze you, and you let him. Too tired to resist or put up a fight.

“It’s not my day, joonie.” Your voice is pitiful, even to your own ears. You’d normally wince at sounding like this in front of anyone else. But honestly, it’s okay. It’s Namjoon you’re with. You don’t have to play games or hide things. Not here. Not with him.

“Yeah?” His eyes catch yours as his palms rub the tops of his thighs. It’s an invitation. You know the gesture by now.

“Yeah… again. There have been so many of these lately,” you say, crossing the room to him, his arms unfolding to welcome you into them. “They come too often and stay too long. They’re terrible house guests. I’m tired of them, joon. I can’t seem to get rid of them.”

You’re scooped against him now, head on the space between his neck and his chest, fingers twisted into his tank top, bum in his lap, knees tucked up til you’re as small as you can get. There’s a broad palm of his on your back, fingertips on his other hand traveling the length of your arm in tender caresses as his cheek rests atop your head.

“Maybe we should start charging them rent. I bet even they can’t afford to pay that in this economy.” He offers the idea solemnly, fully committed to carrying out the metaphor that your mental health really is just an unfortunate airbnb plagued with hideously mannered squatters.

“You know, I love that about you, Joon.”

“My inability to pay rent?”

You nuzzle a sappy no into the heat of his neck,” dummy, your very real ability to never minimize things that are hard to me.”

The dip of his chest as he exhales is oddly soothing. It makes you feel like you’re being rocked and god if you don’t need to be cradled right now. “Things  have been really hard lately, haven’t they?” He wonders aloud.

“It isn’t just my perception?” You look up, eyes entirely too pitiful, too round to belong to a functioning adult. No, Namjoon’s heart goes soft as he realizes he’s looking at the eyes of a very scared four year old you. The haunted gaze of an innocent girl who never got told everything would be alright. Even without knowing any more than that, it makes him want to cry.

“No, my sweet girl, it’s not.” Closing his eyes, he presses somber lips to your forehead, scooping you close to shield you— from the world, from yourself, from all the insidious things that took root in you so long ago you’re not even sure how they got in. His wide hands grip you tighter, a feeble attempt to help hold you altogether.

It’s silent then. A few beats of quiet, only disrupted by the clumsy clatter of irreverent raindrops on glass. His caress stays steady against your soft sleeves, his languid fingers perpetually in motion as he attempts to soothe the wounds that sit just beneath your skin.

You look up at him again, unsure what you’ll find. 

You almost cry when you see the gentleness in his eyes. No judgment anywhere within them. Just something kind that stretches into the lines his eyes carve as he smiles. How you itch to gently peel his horn rimmed glasses off the tip of his button nose and kiss it. Bless him.

God, you don’t know why he’s so nice to you, but you’re so glad that he is. The smile you give back to him is wobbly, trembly, poorly constructed— but so so sincere that it makes your sad eyes shine. He bumps your nose with his, burying himself against your forehead as you cocoon into him.

You want to ask him what he’s reading, listen intently to him as he tells you all about it, but you know you can’t. You can’t decipher anything today. It all feels too heavy. You can’t carry the weight of anything new with hands already full. At this point, you’ve lived in this soft hoodie of his , the one you stole after his tour two years back because it smelled like him, for the past 3 days. You don’t even have the energy to change. With that kind of retention rate, seems there’s no point in asking your brilliant professor to explain anything.

Still, it’s always so nice to hear his voice. Especially with your ear to his chest like this. 

So you ask anyway.

“Will you read to me, Joonie? Life always feels better when you’re reading.” You press your face deep into the copper of his neck, an open mouthed kiss placed against his pulse.

“It’s all kind of theoretical,” he chuckles. He’s bashful. If holding you weren’t occupying his hands, you know they’d be nervously fiddling with the back of his neck. A nerdy boy with a too big brain hesitant to share his discoveries.

“Is it good though? You’ve already read Jung to me, and I stayed awake through that. I think I deserve more credit.” You poke his throat with your nose. You’re not genuinely affronted, it’s just nice to remind him you're competent too. Sometimes.

His sweet chuckle then is earthy and rich, all dark molasses. “True. You actually gave pretty good feedback for that too. Fine. Didn’t mean to underestimate you. Just… bear with me if it feels odd? I haven't read it before. I can’t vouch for it all yet.”

“Fine by me. I’m just here for the cuddles and my Kim Namjoon audiobook.”

He can feel your smile against his skin. It makes him press you just that extra little bit tighter against him, exhaling soft through his nose when he feels you return the gesture.

Scooping up his paperback, he adjusts his glasses where they’ve slipped down his nose, clearing his throat to project like the narrator he claims he’s not but loves to be. He’s quiet for a few more beats. You can hear pages rustling as you sink against his skin. You imagine he must be trying to find where he was when you interrupted, or perhaps searching for a passage that seems apropos. Which he chooses, you don’t know, but you can feel when he settles, just before his caramel voice sweetens the thin air of the room.

“It's the same with the wound in our hearts,” he begins. “ We need to give them our attention so that they can heal. Otherwise the wounds continue to cause us pain. Sometimes for a very long time. We're all going to get hurt. But here's the trick - they also serve an amazing purpose. 

When our hearts are wounded that's when they open. We grow through pain. We grow through difficult situations. That's why you have to embrace each and every difficult thing in your life.”

You aren’t sure when your eyes opened, not sure when they began to glaze over or when you started to cry. But you did. And you are. The salty things dripping down against Namjoon’s silken skin. Your sweatered knuckles try to knock them away, but to no avail. Your cheeks are still a wet mess and now his collarbone is too.

“Joon, what is this? What are you reading?”

“Oh… um, it’s— terribly long title but— Into the Magic Shop: A Neurosurgeon's Quest to Discover the Mysteries of the Brain and the Secrets of the Heart. Isn't that a mouthful?” his laugh is self deprecating, small, but still the most beautiful sound.

God, you hate how sensitive and soft you are right now. You don’t want to be sitting here at 4pm in your boyfriend’s lap crying over a paragraph in a book you've never even heard of before, but here you are.

“ is that… what the whole book is about ?”

“You know, I don’t know. I haven’t read it all yet. Jackson recommended it, I’m just now getting to it. Why - do you not like it? I can put this down. Read you something else if this is too heavy. You always like the poetry. I can grab that one anthology you like.”

You can feel as he starts to shuffle beneath you, eager to track down new reading material for you, afraid he’s scared you off, when the fluttering weight of your palm tethers him to his spot.

“No, stay. Keep reading. I want to hear the rest.”

You can practically hear him smile. Relieved. Can feel his dimples manifest without even trying. He kisses your hair, tilts your chin up to kiss you too. The complexity of bergamot and black tea making his supple lips even more bewitching than normal. The window in the corner is cracked open, the humidity it leaks in making your skin sticky as you lean against him.

He’s lovely like this. The rain soaked air mixing with his natural scent, a broad hand on your chin, warm thumb beneath your lip as you mold pliant into his kiss. He ends it with a peck to your lips, a tap of his nose to your nose, before hoisting you so close against him you just may fuse together.

And he reads. He reads until he’s exhausted. Til the rain has stopped, and you’ve drifted to rest pressed against the skin of his chest.

He folds the book shut once your breathing has stilled, his thumb marking the page as he tips you both to lay down sideways. As he extends his pinprick tingling legs for the first time in ages, you hoist yourself around him in your sleep like a koala, and he chuckles. That’s usually his move.

He kisses your hair then, traipsing fingers tenderly through the escaped bits of it that brush across your cheeks. He wonders if you know how madly in love with you he is. How often he’s wondered what he’d do without you. Today, like most days lately, your light was dim, but still kelvins brighter than anyone else’s.

He sends a silent thank you to whatever deity arranged things in such a way that he can hold you to his chest like this as the daylight saving’s darkness floods his studio office. You seemed so sad today, but he knows it won’t last forever. It’ll pass. It always does. He’ll just hold you until it does. And then some.

[darthspideys]

by your side

 -- din djarin x jedi! reader 

-- the reader I use in this is the same as the one in my din series antithesis (it’s the pinned post on my blog if you want to read it) but you don’t have to read it to understand this one 

-- SPOILERS FOR THIS WEEKS EPISODE, like tons of spoilers, the whole thing is a spoiler 

-- summary: you help Din complete his mission to get the coordinates to find the child, but when he comes back you can tell something is wrong 

When everyone else has given up their very good reasons for not being able to get past the scanner, Din looks at you. You don’t say anything at first, because you think he’s just looking at you until he can think of another option, but when he keeps looking you realize he thinks that you are a viable option. For starters, you don’t want to do it, because seeing stormtroopers of any kind fills you with a sudden urge to bash their heads in which would not be helpful in scenario and secondly, you are definitely not making it past the scanner. Suddenly, as the staring from Din continues, everyone else starts to look at you too. “I can’t do it either,” You make eye contact with every person in the group as you say it, “I killed the emperor, I am definitely in the system.” 

All eyes turn away from you at the same time except for Mayfield who narrows his eyes and takes a posture you are not happy with. “I thought Luke Skywalker killed the emperor.” 

Short answer: he did. Long answer: “I was there,” You cross your arms over your chest, “I helped.” He looks like he doesn’t believe you and suddenly it’s not just the stormtroopers head you're getting the urge to bash in. He opens his mouth to say something else, but you pull your lightsaber and ignite it suddenly, holding it in your hand absentmindedly just to remind him who he’s talking to. 

Din puts his hand out in front of you, the armor brushing against your chest. “Okay,” He says, looking pointedly at you in the way that he does the child when it eats something it shouldn’t. “I’ll go.”

Now everyone’s looking at him, including you. Mayfield speaks up again, “I’m a smooth talker but I don’t think they’ll let in a Mandalorian in full armor-” 

“-good thing I won’t be wearing it then.” 

And so the plan emerges: Mayfield and Din go and hijack the transport with help from Cara and you, then get into the refinery and get the coordinates you need. Easier said than done, as always but the little team that Din has managed to put together since you left Tython is actually impressive in it’s own way. You’re used to working in groups, but this is something completely different more like a mashing together of a lot of different people than a melded unit. Of course you know that this is the best you're gonna get to a team to take down Gideon and get the baby back, which is what you're going to need if you even want to stand a chance. 

Taking the transport is easy, and surprisingly nothing even comes close to blowing up. Din changes into the stormtrooper armor as Mayfield babbles on about something from the back of the vehicle. Din comes out from around the corner, decked in that protective stormtrooper armor and you can tell how uncomfortable he is just by watching. The way he walks shows that he’s used to the heaviness of beskar, and probably the security that comes from wearing it. He’s exposed, even if his face isn’t. 

He looks at you for a long time when he hands you the bag that contains his armor. You take it into your arms, think for a little too long about how heavy it is, and then reach over to squeeze his hand. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you, and you want to know what he’s thinking but all you can feel is that determination to get the child back. That’s all you’ve been able to feel from him since Gideon took the child, that determination to get it back, not any grief, not any fear just the determination masking all of it, and that worries you. “We’re going to finish this,” You tell him, “You’re gonna get the coordinates and then we’re going to make Gideon eat fucking concrete.” 

He laughs, “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, I mean like slam his face into a wall or something,” You try to stop yourself from smiling, “I am trying to be supportive here, this is a very serious situation and I am being supportive.” 

“I don’t think that you're physically capable of being serious in any situation.” 

You roll your eyes, “I fought in a war, Mando.” You use the nickname you used to call him to make your point. “I am capable of a lot of things you’re not keenly aware of.” 

“Are you lovebirds done yet?” Mayfield says, “We’re still on the clock here.” 

You flip him off without even looking in his direction. He laughs from behind you, and Din shakes his head before walking off to join the other man. You stand by Cara’s side as they take off in the transport, and then head off to join Fennec at the next position. You both walk through the brush in silence, until suddenly a feeling jolts through your body. You freeze, and almost keep walking but then suddenly it hits you: Din. 

Something is wrong. You look out over the edge of the small cliff you’re standing next to, and see something small zoom off in the direction of the transport, and then something else of similar size at the same speed. You don’t wait before you start running, Cara calls your name but suddenly you are just rushing to get to the transport as fast as you can. You’re trying to get down the cliff without falling on a large rock when you hear the first explosion. It stops you in your tracks, and almost makes you fall down a very steep incline. You stand there for a moment consumed with the feeling of independent doom that’s been guiding your decision making thus far. A couple of seconds pass and another explosion sounds out and shakes the ground beneath your feet. You start off again. 

Finally you can see the transport to your left off the side of the cliff, and you can see what it’s fighting against. There are two hovercrafts full of pirates trying to get onto the top of the transport, trying to get to the substance inside to blow it up most likely. You can make out a small figure on the top of the transport, and you know it’s Din. Somehow you have to get down there, or both of them and the mission might be a goner. 

You take a couple of steps back, and repeat a mantra in your head: rock, tree, transport. Rock, tree, transport, and if you mess up on any of those then you’ll be dead which is something you're trying your best not to think about as you run and jump off the edge of the cliff. You make it onto the rock, and then use the force to guide you to the top of the transport. 

As soon as you land a pirate takes a swing at your head. You duck, fast as lightning, and then stand up and kick him off the side of the transport and onto the ground below. For some reason that only makes the rest of the pirates angerier, one charges at you and you duck again, rolling right under him. This inadvertently causes that one to pick Din as his new target, a fact which you realize a little too late. 

“I got it!” Din yells over the sound of the vehicle and the pirates growling. 

You turn your attention to the pirate in front of you, readying his spear to attack. Your hand reaches down for your lightsaber but you decide against it, suddenly remembering that you’re dangerously close to an empire base and fighting with a lightsaber could very easily tip them off. You’re going to have to rely on hand to hand combat, which you haven’t had to in many years, but there’s no other option. You suck underneath the spear, trying to get in hits while not getting skewered. Eventually you have the position to rip the spear from his hands and throw him off the back of the transport. That also clears another pirate out of the way and for a moment you think that the danger has been averted. 

That doesn’t last long. 

More pirates jump onto the transport, overwhelming you and Din for the time and suddenly a few of them make it to the compartment where the substance is being held. You and Din both see it, and he screams something at Mayfield that you can’t quite make out. You try and get the pirate off of your ass as soon as you can. Then you hear the sound of a thermal detonator being attached to one of the canisters. You and Din look at eachother with a renewed sense of urgency, and you throw the pirate off the side and run over to the canister. 

You stare at the detonators, unsure of what to do. 

“What are you doing?” Din yells. 

“What the fuck do I do?” 

“Just pull it off and throw it as far away as you can!” He shouts.

You use the force to pull the detonators off the canisters and throw them off towards the rest of the pirates a few feet back from the transport. It blows them out of the air, and you turn around to see Din still struggling to get rid of the last one. You throw the pirate right into the cliffside and fall onto the top of the transport. 

Din walks over and brushes himself off before holding out his hand to help you up. “How did you know?” He asks. 

“Just had a feeling,” You blow a piece of your hair out of your face. “I love you, okay? You can do this.” 

He squeezes your hand quickly, “I love you too.” 

You wait until you see an opening and hop off the transport and into the tree line. You head back to the meeting place with Fennec and Cara, finally free of the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong. The rest of the mission goes in a blur, Fennec, Cara and you manage to keep enough imperials away for Boba to pick up Din and Mayfield off the roof. When all is said and done, Mayfield is released into the wild, and you're off to gather up your plan to get the child back from Gideon, you get a feeling again. 

This one isn’t one of impending doom, it’s of conflict, you can feel the turmoil and you can feel that something terrible has happened. The feeling is coming right from Din, but he seems to be avoiding you. When you settle down on Nevarro, and the various members of your team are out completing tasks for the eventual mission to get onto Gideons cruiser, you finally corner him. 

“You seem upset,” You tell him, “What happened?” He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even look at you, just keeps his eyes on the floor. You put your hands on the sides of his helmet, not to take it off, because you know not to do that unless he does, but to try and let him know that you're here no matter what. 

“The coordinates required a facial scan, and I had to do it,” He says, and though you're surprised you don’t flinch. He pauses, “And then this commander insisted that me and Mayfield get a drink with him. I don’t even know how many people saw my face.” 

“Love,” You say, so many questions burning in your mind. 

He pulls away from you and shakes his head, looking down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have even put this back on, I don’t deserve to wear this helmet to wear any of this armor.” 

“You did it for the kid, Din. That kid is your family, and you have to do everything that you can for your family. It doesn't make you less of a Mandalorian, it makes you a human being, we all have to do things we’re not proud of. We do them, and then we try to move on and do better.” 

He sighs, and starts back towards you. “I feel like a fraud.” 

“Love,” You say again, “You are so strong, caring and smart and everything. You are not a fraud, and you’re not a traitor. You are a person, a human being who's allowed to make mistakes, and who will do whatever it takes to protect the people he loves.” You lean your head against his, “And you are everything to me.”

“I love you,” He half whispers. 

“I love you too.”

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-36)

Word count: 5.6K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Feels, PTSD, fluff

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​​​. Love you babe <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

“I’ve decided I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m going home.”

“Jack!” You grabbed him by his elbow just as he turned. “You can’t abandon me!”

He looked a bit terrified. “I can’t do this, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure you can. Jody is awesome and you’re so cute. I know she will like you.”

Jack did not look convinced. A tiny part of you was nervous with him. He was about to meet his girlfriend's mom for the first time. After calling Sam to tell him that you were up for the picnic, the wild optimism in his voice had you wearing out the carpet of your living room, freaking out about messing it up- for Sam and for Max. As a last resort, you had knocked on your neighbour’s door and convinced Jack to accompany you. As it turned out, Claire had been after him for a while to meet her family, and Jack being Jack was worrying the hell out of it. 

Now, you stood in front of the gate of your building, waiting for Sam to come pick you up, and not letting each other chicken out of this situation. That’s what friends did. 

“It’s not just Jody,” Jack admitted. “It’s also your husband.”

Your heart still lurched at the word. “Sam? What about him?”

Jack groaned, rolling his head. “I don’t know. You’re our Y/N… and then suddenly we find out you’re married. I really want to like him, but he’ll take you away from us.”

You were touched by his words, and the innocence in them. “No one can take me away. In fact, this is just my grand scheme to make sure that you’re stuck with me for life now. I’ve been slowly getting you hooked to the cookies. Soon there will come a day when you’ll realise you can't live without them. And then you just can’t get rid of me. It’ll be too late.”

Jack smiled at you and slung his arm around your soldier. “It’s not the cookies we’re getting addicted to, it’s you.”

A car made the swift turn and came to a stop next to the gate, right in front of you- Sam’s sleek, black Mercedes. 

Jack let out a low whistle. “I take it all back. You get back together with this guy and adopt me. Max is so much nicer than Kevin anyway. I'll share a room with him. I’ll do the dishes everyday.”

You were crying because of laughter by the time Sam opened his door and stepped out. 

“You alright?” He asked, face startled but amused.

Nodding and gasping for breath, you made the hasty introductions. Jack gave his patented customary hand raise of a greeting with palm facing forward. Sam was going for a handshake but seeing Jack’s wave, he did the same with a smile.

From the backseat, Max called out your name. Without caring about the rest, you opened the door and got in besides him, ruffling his hair.

“Hey, Y/N, aren’t you riding shotgun?” Jack asked, voice restrained to appear casual. 

“Nah, you got it. I’m going to hangout in the back with Max.”

Jack might be looking daggers at you for throwing him under the bus, but you knew he’d live. Sam was excellent company. In the next fifteen minutes of the ride, you were proven right, because Jack was busy discussing the mysterious circumstances under which Edgar Allan Poe died, and how The murders in Rue Morgue was actually his best work. Sam was exceptionally well read and Jack was in his element with literature discussions. 

You turned to Max, showing him your basket. “Look, what I got for you- your favourite cookies and a pie!”

He let out a squeal of delight and you snuck a cookie out for him. 

The car was spotless, rich upholstery gleaming, but you knew Sam couldn’t care less if Max got crumbs on the seats. Right on track, Max dug into the cookie, not bothering about the mess. Secretly, it pleased you that you were beginning to decode their relationship.

“I didn’t know what the others would like, so I baked muffins and some savoury croissants. You think that’s okay?”

“Stop gnawing over it, Y/N,” Sam said. “Everyone’s gonna love it.”

You didn’t think he was even paying any attention to you. Course you were wrong. His eyes were melting in the rearview mirror as he smiled at you.

“Y/N woke up at 4:30 in the morning to get everything set,” Jack added.

You bent forward to look at him. “How do you know that?”

“I could hear your beater whirring. Thin walls.”

“That woke you up? I’m so sorry, Jack!”

Jack snorted. “Was she always like this?”

“Always,” said Sam, with all the warmth. You could feel the heat in your chest.

For the rest of the ride, you happily listened to Max chatter about the badminton racquet in the trunk and Claire’s home bowling set. He was such a joy to listen to when he was just being a kid and not careful. You listened very attentively, picking out the things that were only in the subtext of his words. Max loved these people- Jody, her girls and even Chase. He knew their habits and their natures like a family. Sam must have relied on them a lot and often. 

You were so lost in Max’s words, that the car was already silently cruising along the San Francisco bay. The water stretched by one side of the road. Instinctively, you tightened the grip on Max’s hand. 

Why hadn’t you thought to ask where the picnic was!

As it turned out, the place they had chosen was very serene… The little landscape was a small distance walk from the highway, secluded enough that it wasn’t frequented, but beautiful nonetheless. Tall, full trees dominated the landscape. The rich fall colours, oddly made the shade underneath brighter somehow, inviting. The shadows of the trees bleeded into an open, grassy area and ultimately into the sandy, pebbly waterline of the bay. 

You wrinkled your nose at the sight of nestled ducks. Sam smirked at you. Was he remembering the same afternoon? When you had tried to feed the ducks Sam and Dean’s epic failure of muffins?

Two girls were already laying out an assortment of food on the blanket. The blonde turned at the sound of Max’s hoots and her face brightened at the site of Jack. It was adorable. Alex still had her hand in a cast and Jody was hauling a cane chair from behind. All of them looked in a jovial mood. Maybe the whole sneaking out at night debacle was behind them. 

Alex greeted you first when you reached them. “It’s great to see you again, Mrs. Winchester.”

You felt rather than saw Sam’s eyes flash towards you. Smiling, you sat down next to her. “Y/N is just fine, Alex. You don’t have to change names all of a sudden.” 

Both she and Claire were a little wide eyed. Your situation had clearly been a topic of discussion with them. This girl they randomly knew as Max’s friend or Jack’s neighbor was now suddenly Sam’s wife. It must’ve been bizarre. After sharing a few pleasantries with Jody, you pulled out your own basket.

You had to admit, the reactions were very mollifying as they dug into the muffins, pies and croissants, moaning with closed eyes. Sam gave you a sideways smirk at their reaction.

“That’s it,” Jody declared. “You’re passing the rest of the semester for legal writing without handing in a single assignment. The muffins alone… mmm.”

“Save me some,” Sam complained. It was mostly aimed at Jody.

She scowled at him. “You stop making those eyes at me, Winchester. I’m not giving up my share.” When you giggled she turned towards you. “Did he always do that?”

“Puppy dog eyes of doom? Yeah… always.”

“You make that shit work for you in the court, don’t you? That’s how you win all of them cases,” she grumbled.

“How rude!”

You turned at the offended sound. Chase stood behind you with arms crossed over his chest. 

“You guys started eating without me?” He huffed, sitting down on your other side and turned to Max. “Your dad, I can expect that from. Since when did you turn into such an Iago?”

“I saved you the cookies,” Max said promptly, pulling the bag from behind him. There was a small furor which was mostly the girls complaining about how they didn’t know there were cookies. It ended with Chase clutching the bag to his chest.

“Flee away, children,” he said. “I need the cookies to mend my broken heart.”

“What happened to your girlfriend? Weren’t you bringing her with you?” Sam asked.

Chase threw him a very impressive shade. “She dumped me, Samuel.”

“Why?”

“She couldn’t bear that I was prettier than her.”

You suspected Chase was just playing it out for the cookies. He did not look heartbroken in the least. 

Once the food stash was considerably depleted, the girls, Jack and Max, picked up the racquets and divided their teams for Badminton. When Max insisted that you join them, Sam vehemently supported your argument of terrible hand-eye coordination. He knew and much like yourself, did not want to put other people in the way of the harm that you might inflict. In the end, only the group of four ended up on the blankets. Sam, Jody, you and Chase who was almost lying on his side, head resting on his hand, propped up on an elbow. He looked younger in a t-shirt and jeans. 

“I still can’t believe you can cook all of this by yourself! No wonder Sam didn’t want to junk the marriage.”

“Chase!” Sam admonished, mortified, but you enjoyed Chase’s unapologetic behaviour, being all too tired of people stepping on eggshells around you- especially Sam.

“No, it’s alright,” you said, grinning at Chase, who returned your grin with a wink.

“You don’t happen to have a sister, do you?” He enquired.

“Well, actually…”

“Someone other than Jo,” he added quickly. “God knows I won’t survive a minute if I went toe to toe with Dean Winchester. One Winchester is enough to keep me in line.”

Sam threw Chase his classic bitchface then went back to his conversation with Jody. Eyeing his absorption, Chase tilted his head towards the side, “Care to join me for a walk, Y/N?”

You chanced a look at Sam, who was busy discussing a faculty matter and nodded. As quietly as you could, the two of you got up and moved away. 

“So, did you end up applying? To Acton Gris, I mean?” He asked, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his pants.

“I did, the very evening. I’m trying not to be too hopeful.”

His green eyes regarded you. “Now, whyever would you do that?”

“Because I’m a realist and I know what type of competition I’m up against.”

Chase chuckled. “You’re too idealistic, Y/N. Even more than Mr. Mc-dreamy over there. Never thought I’d see him topped in that category. I’m still hopeful. Looks like I’m the only one.”

“Why do you care?” You asked. “What does it matter to you if I end up in Acton Gris or not?”

“It doesn’t. I think it would be great for your career and it’s my duty being from the same alma mater to further your cause.”

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “And this has nothing to do with Sam.”

Chase was quiet for a long time, watching his steps as you strolled along the waterline, a safe distance away from it. You had given up on expecting an answer and were just beginning to wonder what would be a good time to turn around and head back when he finally spoke, “I’ll admit I haven’t been your biggest fan, Y/N. Sam never said a word against you… and that is exactly what pissed me off.” 

This was in line with what you had pretty much already assumed so it didn’t come as a surprise.

“I’m telling you this because I know you ain’t a snowflake,” said Chase. “You don’t have the liberty to be a snowflake after everything you’ve been through. I also know you don’t care about my opinion of you.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” you pointed out.

He sighed. “I suggested that you try at Acton Gris not for Sam’s sake but mine. That part I told you about- how Sam’s too high up to be involved with paralegals- is one hundred percent true. But I wanted to get to know you for myself.”

“To see if I was any good for Sam?”

Chase snorted. “This whole deal makes me sound like Sam’s possessive mistress but I am protective of him… and of his boy over there. I’ve been around for the start of that story, and they’ve been hurt enough. I am cad for saying this but I just didn’t trust you enough, and Sam being Sam was pining after you from day one… it’s quite tiresome to watch.”

“And now what? You suddenly approve of me? I passed some invisible test?”

“You guys are already married, who the heck am I to set a test for you? For the majority part I was telling the truth, you know. You’d flourish at Acton Gris. It would make you happy and Sam would be over the moon. But I still want to get to know you better.” He paused. “I haven’t had the best of family life growing up. More money than I could count, but my mother ditched me and my dad before I could spell out her name. I’ve seen him miserable for all his life… and well, it gave me mommy issues to last a lifetime.” Chase winked. “So all the meddling is clearly not me projecting my childhood abandonment issues on you. Clearly!”

Chase’s blunt honesty surprised you. He owed you nothing at all. Yet here he was answering all your questions. While he was at it, you decided to ask one more.

“Now you think I won’t break Sam’s heart?”

He looked at you and shook his head lightly. “I don’t know that. What I do know is that you won’t be able to break his heart without breaking your own first. I’ve only ever wanted him to be happy. Tried setting him up with a hundred girls, the guy just wouldn’t budge. Then you come back and it’s fucking sunshine all over his face. I know when to give up.”

Oddly, you understood exactly where Chase was coming from. He was so strongly rooted in Sam’s corner, all of his thoughts were biased, even if it meant being critical and wary of you. You hadn’t tried to achieve it, but somewhere in the middle you had gained both Chase’s confidence and his liking.

“What’s it like working under Sam?” You asked, changing the topic as well as voicing a curiosity. 

Chase gave you a look. “Now or then?”

“Both,” you said after a minute.

“You’ve got to know, I used to look up to Sam when I was at Stanford- not that he knew I existed back then. He was in the final year, I was in the first, and he was everything I wanted to be- Top of his class, valedictorian, popular with the ladies. I applied at Johnson’s because of that.” He paused, continuing only after an encouraging look from you. “He was nothing like I remembered. Every time I faced him, there was a very real risk of being fired for the smallest mistake.”

Chase laughed. You did not. He was describing a Sam you couldn’t imagine, a Sam that shouldn’t have existed.

“Now he’s my best friend. At any rate, he’s about the only person who puts up with my dumb antics.”

“He puts up with a lot from a lot of people,” you murmured, absentmindedly staring at the lake. 

A small moment caught your eye. The birdy that had been flying back and forth between the girls and the boys, flew over a bit too high and far. And as a reflex, Max, his eyes up, backed away fast.

“No!” You were already running by the time you realised that the terrified scream was yours. 

“No, no… Chirp!” You shouted, but it was too late as the boy’s feet hit the wet slope. He slipped and tumbled back, rolling right into the water. 

Your legs were aching from how hurriedly you dove after him, right into the bay, lashing in the water till your hands found Max’s body. Yanking him out of the water and against your body, you backed off quickly. You cradled his body on the sandy shore, frantically checking his face, arms to make sure he was alright. Max didn’t look hurt, just shocked and a bit scared.

“Are you okay?” You asked, too loudly. Max nodded.  

Hands landed on your shoulder, your head. Voices told you to let go but you did not release Max, not till another voice murmured in your ear, “It’s alright, Y/N. He’s okay.”

You turned on Sam. “Why did you let him near water? Why weren’t you paying any attention?” You yelled, not relinquishing your hold on Max.

Sam crouched down before you, not attempting to reach out to Max, who was staring wide eyed at you. 

“What if something had happened to him?” You wiped at your tears with the back of your hand. “He’s just a little boy! How could you be so careless?”

Sam shrugged out of his jacket and carefully wrapped it around your shoulders. 

“Max is alright,” he said calmly, “You can let go of him.”

“No!”

“Y/N, you’re all wet and you’re starting to shake. Get inside the car before it gets worse.”

“But Max…”

“Max is fine,” Sam said in the same patient tone. “Look at the water, it’s not even waist deep. This side of the bay is very shallow for, at least, fifty yards and Max can swim very well.”

The realisation came very suddenly. Max had never been in any danger at all. The girls had sarongs on, maybe they had all intended a swim. You had needlessly created a scene, drenched Max more than he needed to be and yelled at Sam for being an irresponsible father.

The tears spilled over again but because of a different reason this time- shame. You let go of Max the next instant, staring pointedly at the ground.

Max turned in your lap. Small, soft hands came up to wipe away the tears from your eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said. “I won’t go near the water again.”

You threw your arms around him again and sobbed against his little neck. The people around you seemed to be closing in but you didn’t want to look up at any of them. Your heartbeat was thudding erratically against Max’s head but he didn’t make a move to leave or get up.

“C’mon, girls, start packing,” Jody ordered over you. “Give Y/N some space to breathe. You, too, lover boy!”

Four sets of feet scampered away. 

“Chase, take Max to the blankets. There’s a fresh set of clothes in his bag.”

You did not want to let go of the boy. Doing so would make you face Sam.

It seemed Max was reluctant as well, but with one look at Sam, he disentangled himself. You felt the softest brush of his lips on your cheek and then Max was walking away, his hand in Chase’s. 

Sam put both his hands against your arms and pulled you to your feet. He drew his coat tightly around you and started walking you towards his car, his palm firmly planted against your back. 

You let him, without another word as he opened the door of the passenger seat for you to get in. Sam got in on the other side and turned the heat up. Only when the car started did you shake out of the quiet.

“Wait. Max?”

“Don’t worry about him. Chase will drive him home.”

Sam’s voice betrayed no emotion. Not anger or hurt. It was as composed as the many lectures he had delivered.

Ashamed of even meeting his gaze, you tipped your head against the window, glad that the side was facing the road instead of the bay and closed your eyes. It felt like floating in bliss if you buried your emotions down- this sensation of gliding on a smooth road, the heat in the car swirling with the scent of Sam’s cologne. It felt familiar and safe. 

All too soon you were jerked awake, the car easing into the driveway and coming to a stop. It was already dark outside. Somehow you had slept through the whole ride. Your clothes were completely dry. 

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered, his voice like velvet in the darkness. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Straightening up, you turned to face Sam who was looking down at you with concern etched on his face. Slowly, you took his hand in yours and spoke through a hoarse voice, looking at them. “Please forgive me.” Those three words did not even begin to cover the regret you felt over what had happened. You were an outsider, looking in on Sam’s life with this strange hunger and desire. You wanted to be a part of his little family so bad, but you weren’t yet. You didn’t know Max the way Sam did, did not understand Max’s choices, and the thoughts behind them. You did not have a right to him or Sam. Ignoring all of that, you had yelled at Sam, the way a wife would yell at her husband for neglecting their child. But, Sam wasn’t neglecting Max. Max wasn’t your son and you were barely Sam’s wife. 

“It was thoughtless and stupid to raise my voice at you and say those words. I forgot that Max belongs to you, that you could never be careless towards him. I had no right to yell at you in front of everyone.” 

Maybe it was all for good. Let Sam see what you were capable of. If he saw the truth of how broken you were, maybe he would stop wanting you in his life. Everyone knew how hysteric you could get now. So much for Jody rooting for you. So much for Chase’s hopes of Sam getting to be happy. They all saw you for who you truly were. 

“You remember what I told you the other night?” Sam asked. “When you came over and we sat by the swing?”

The lightness of his voice made you look up. He should be angry, at least, pissed.

“I told you that I didn’t care what people thought about us.”

“Doesn’t justify what I did… How it must’ve looked...”

“You know how it looked to me?”

Sam’s eyes were clear, no resentment in them. “To me it looked like you ran to protect my son without caring for your life. You didn’t know the water wasn’t deep, you can’t swim and you’re fucking terrified of water. I’m not even talking about what the cold does to you. Why on earth would I care about how this looks to anyone else?”

You were transfixed by the depth of his words.

“Those people either love you or love me. I’m sure they saw it no differently than how I see it.”

“What about Max? I must’ve scared him so bad.” The poor boy hadn’t said anything except apologise to you for stepping in the water. It hadn’t been his fault.

Sam pursed his lips. “I wouldn’t worry too much about him. I think he’s concerned about you the most.”

You put your head in your hands, weary. The fear was still an echo in your stomach despite the sleep, and it was getting stronger every minute- what if something had happened to Max?

“Can I ask you something?” Sam sounded hesitant.

“Mhmm.”

“Do you remember what you said right before you jumped in the water?”

You frowned, trying to remember. “Wasn’t I calling out to Max?” There had been no time to say anything or do anything else.

Sam’s face was tender as he said, “Yeah, you were calling out to Max.”

What a weird thing to ask! You tried harder, failing to remember what Sam was talking about.

Lights flared up behind. You leaned back, not realising just how close you were to Sam. The car coming from behind came to a halt at the start of the driveway. The doors opened and Max and Jack spilled out from either sides. Jack reached your door first. He opened it and pulled you into a hug without waiting for you to turn.

“Hey, hey, I’m okay.”

“You were shaking so bad.” 

It was actually nothing compared to what Jack could have witnessed if Sam hadn’t whisked you off into the car and in front of a heater.

Chase’s reaction was a bit more subdued. He looked worried about how you were doing and wasn’t his usual boisterous self. When Sam invited him for dinner, he took a raincheck. So did Jack. Once, Chase had driven away, Sam looked at you expectantly, but you just shook your head. You had intruded on their time too much already. 

You crouched down to Max’s level who was uncharacteristically quiet. “I scared you today, didn’t I?”

Max didn’t say anything. He placed the back of his hand against your forehead and then under your jaw.

“I’m alright, sweetie,” you assured him. 

Max hugged you around the neck, and you hugged back tightly just for a second. You would jump inside a hundred lakes a hundred times without a single thought if it meant Max would be safe.

“I love you,” Max whispered very quietly in your ear. You were sure no one else had heard it.

Just as quietly, you whispered back. “I love you, too, my little boy.”

“Get inside, Max,” Sam said. “Wash your hands and change out of your clothes. I’ll be there in a minute to run the bath for you.”

With a small sigh, Max went inside, but not before giving you a smile.

“I’ll wait for you right outside the gate,” Jack told you. “It was great meeting you, Sam.”

“Likewise,” said Sam.

You watched Jack almost run out of sight. 

“Cool kid,” Sam muttered, eyes in the same direction.

You sighed. “I can’t believe I ruined the picnic and put a damper on everyone’s mood.”

“C’mere.” Sam gently pulled you to him, so that your body was leaning against his. One hand was curled around your shoulder and his other hand was against your lower back. You could feel the tips on his fingers against the little skin exposed between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your pants. It sent a thrill through your body. “It’s like you have to find something to worry about all the time. Quit doing that. Everyone’s just glad that you’re okay. We’ll do this again sometime, alright? We can push Chase in the water next time.”

You snorted.

“And don’t worry about the yelling. You know I always liked it when you got bossy like that.”

Sam’s words made you giggle.

“There’s my girl.” His warm breath washed over your face. 

What you did next was inexcusable. Without warning, you were reaching up on the tips of your toes, kissing him. Sam was surprised, his hands left your body, but you threw yours around his neck, raising yourself up against his tall frame. He was so shocked that he lost his balance and fell back against the wall next to his door. You did not give up, sucking on his lower lip, feeling the roll of his muscles under your hand.

Sam let out a primal sound and the next second you were turning, it was your back to the wall now. He hoisted you up against the surface by your waist with one hand, hitching your leg around his waist. The other hand tangled in your hair as his mouth worked hard against yours. His taste was heady, intoxicating and the way he was kissing you was enough to make you forget where you were, what you were doing. It would make you forget your own name. The hand at your waist travelled under the hem of your shirt, clutching at the skin on your lower back, and his lips started to travel downwards, sucking, biting, along your chin to your jaw and back down again to the column of your neck. Sam wasn’t gentle… and as you gasped, indecently, eyes closed, you didn’t want him to be gentle either. 

No, you wanted him to be rougher, go harder and never stop.

“Daaaaaadd!” Max sang from the inside and the two of your sprang apart. Your feet landed on the ground with resounding reality. 

"Coming," he said, voice thick.

Sam bent down, hands on his knees, gasping hard.

“Oops!” You muttered. 

He looked up at you with a boyish grin, face flushed, looking years younger.

“I better go,” you said, biting your lip. “Jack’s waiting for me.”

You wanted nothing more than for him to ask you to stay and by the looks of it, he wanted the exact same thing.

“Uhhh yeah…” Sam huffed, shifting slightly, trying to adjust his jeans furtively. That made your face grow hotter. 

“Bye!” You ducked out of the porch, not looking back, least you should turn around and attack him again. What had gotten into you to react so wildly? That must’ve been highly inappropriate! 

A small voice in your head told you that it was anything but inappropriate… technically, at least.

Jack’s face lit up when he saw you and then it immediately dropped.

“What happened?”

“Y-Your hair!” He muttered, looking anywhere but at you.

“Oh!” It was mussed up in all directions. Hurriedly, you ran your fingers through it, hoping for some semblance. “Sorry.”

After a minute, Jack sneaked a glance and then smiled impishly. “I’m sorry. It’s just the idea of you making out with someone gives me the heebies… You’re like my sister!” He screwed up eyes into slits to show the cringe.

You laughed.

At the door, Jack gave you another hug. “I gotta say, Y/N, I wasn’t convinced about this whole Sam business before today. Neither was Kev. You know we would always support you with whatever you decided, but seeing you with him was very relieving. I won’t worry again.”

It was heartening, how much everyone cared for you. 

You had to take a cold shower once inside, despite your composition. It was regretful, because the water washed away the remnants of Sam’s smell off of you. Idly, you wondered if you could steal the shirt he had lent you and keep it for yourself, climb into it when you went to bed like you used to. 

The shower was necessary to reign in the utter chaos that was your brain. The evening had been eventful enough, but what had happened on Sam’s porch? How were you ever going to keep your hands away from him now? Abstaining was your idea to begin with. Sam had bared his heart to you, and this was your decision to keep your hands to yourself till you said the three words back to him.

So much for self control. But the way he’d looked at you, angels would have fallen for less. You were only a human. Besides, nothing would ever compare to the feeling of Sam’s lips, his fingers digging in your back, his body pressed against yours. 

You got into the bed, missing the warmth of his body when your phone pinged. Rolling on your stomach, you reached out to grab it from the nightstand praying the text was from the one person you wanted it to be from. It was.

*I missed that. I missed us*

Hugging the phone to your chest, you sighed like a teenager back from her first kiss. The incidence with water should have shaken you, the way you were wrecked anytime you got drenched, instead you were laying in bed grinning like an idiot.

*I missed us, too*

His reply was instantaneous. 

*It’s been a while…*

What an idiot! You knew what he was implying. As if he could ever be less than perfect at anything, especially at that.

You typed your response quickly. 

*Oh, Mr. Winchester, you always knew how to show a girl a good time*

The tightening in your stomach which refused to go away despite the cold shower was proof enough. Your skin still tingled. 

*That’s comforting… and encouraging ;)*

Yes, it was going to be really hard to go back to keeping your hands off each other now. Being around him was like breaking dams. Once you broke one, it was impossible to put that barrier back up again. The class tomorrow was going to be excruciating. For tonight, you let the wildest fantasies mingled with old memories take up all of your brain space. Even if it left you writhing in your sheets.

*Good night, Mr. Winchester*

You saw the three dots following one another and then disappearing as Sam typed. Once, twice, thrice. Finally the little pop up bubble appeared.

*Good night, Mrs. Winchester. I love you* 

**********************************

A/N 2: I quite like this part. Gave me the chance to explore how delicate, confusing, dependent and volatile emotions can be at the same time. I think if I hadn’t had the backing of 35 chapters, I’d never be able to pull of the conversations in this chapter, Sam, Chase, Jack... all of them. They wouldn’t have been as funny, emotional or exciting. That’s just me thinking maybe.

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[northcarolinanative]

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 (𝟻)

Chapter 5: The Bigger Picture

A/N: WOW! Y’all are so sweet and amazing <3 Here is Chapter 5. Tension is building, kinda. This is so s l o w burn that it’s hurting me. I kinda want this to be about more than just a romance tho? Especially in the beginning, but I am working on the other chapters, and where it is heading, I promise! Bare with me haha! Also I have no clue if those maps exist or if that’s even a thing. I’m just making it up, but it could be right haha. 

I practically dragged JJ through the front door of the Chateau. “What’s all this about Y/N” JJ finally asked as you both walked through the kitchen. I pulled my keys out of my pocket, fiddling on the keyring, finding the small golden key. I held it up to JJ, rattling the other keys, a smile plastered to my face. “A key? How exactly is that supposed to help us Y/N?” I rolled my eyes in response. I turned to the door, just on the side of the living room. 

My dad’s office. 

As long as I could remember, I was never allowed in there for extended periods of time. I would wander in some late nights when he left the door cracked, or to bring him a glass of water and a snack. I could see him now thinking back, hunched over the desk, glasses low on his nose, pen in one hand, the other holding the map that he was marking up. 

“Ah. Y/N. Taking care of your old man, making sure I stay alive I see” and he would chuckle, but I didn’t. I left, and days later her disappeared, he was killed all because of that stupid shipwreck, just like my brother. 

I rummaged through a few things, pulling binders down and looking through the first few pages. JJ looked over at me, honestly worried. I mean if I was watching someone else in my position I probably would be too. I know I probably looked crazy, I was grasping at short, short straws. It was all because I was not ready to give up on my brother just yet. I found the binder labeled “Ship maps”. I pulled it out and handed it to JJ. Okay, maybe this was a little far-fetched, but it was something. 

JJ took it carefully out of my hand. He hesitantly looked at me before looking down at the map, slowly unfolding it. I started to tap my fingers against the table. My nerves were on edge as JJ looked between the map he was unfolding and me. His hand reached down to cover mine that was tapping at an annoyingly fast pace. I bit my lip as he looked over the map. 

He furrowed his brows and looked up at me. “What am I looking at exactly?” He questioned. I laid the map out on the table. I couldn’t blame him, if my dad had not been into this stuff I wouldn’t know what was happening either. 

“Okay so here,” I pointed to one of the lines that were on the page, and traced it down the coast of North Carolina, to where it landed in a port in Charleston, “is the route that the ship was recorded to talk, based off of the sonar and the GPS in it. Ya know, the kinda thing that the bigger, hauling, cargo ships have? For the long trips?” I finished looking for the key. 

JJ slowly nodded his head looking at me. He could tell I might be on to something, he just was not quite sure yet. I flipped up the side of the map, just the first panel, and it showed an elaborate excel table, filled with numbers and symbols. “Here” I pointed to one of the highlighted symbols along the path that I previously traced, “Is…” I took my other hand to skim the table to the side, trying to find the matching color and symbol. “Ah. Here.” I tapped the symbol in the table, JJ leaned closer to me making my breath hitch involuntarily, we were so close, we were touching, practically no space between us. “See here it says that this ship reached 35.1146° N, 75.9810° W, on Saturday, May 14th, 2007, at…” I followed the line with my finger, 16:45” I finished my rant. 

“Okay.” JJ breathed out, his brows still knitted close together. I could see the worry in his eyes. At this moment I could not see it, but he thought I might have been going crazy, things are starting to get to me.”Y/N, this is great, but I don’t know what this has to do with John B.” He sighed. “But I'm not gonna lie, a girl who knows her way around the ocean, the commanding voyage out to sea, boss babe style, kinda hot Y/N” JJ joked, trying to lighten the mood and his worry, then he realized how close we were, but he didn’t move. 

I let out a laugh. It felt natural, which was nice. “I'm being serious JJ,” I said, still laughing and pushing his shoulder back. 

“Whatever you say,” He paused. “Princess.” I rolled my eyes looking back over the map. “What does all this mean though? How is this map, from before we knew what the Merchant was, going to help us find John B?” 

“Ah, you have to think bigger JJ. You see if we can get the coordinates of the Phantom’s last signals, where it was found, or where it could have been between last night and when they pulled it up, we can cross-reference that, with any boats that may have come through. If we can somehow get a map from any of those larger companies, maybe the ferries, hell we might even be able to get it off the internet. We can see if any boats came around then start from there?” I said, but it sounded like a question. “I know that it’s barely anything, but it’s something JJ!’ I continued rambling. “If the ships picked up JB and Sarah, pulled them on board, then  maybe…” I didn’t know how to finish the thought. I looked up from the scattered maps to JJ. 

JJ stared blankly at the maps then up at me. He both put his hand on the sides of my face and just looked at me. He probably thought I was crazy, that I was losing my mind. “You’re a genius Y/N” He then placed a quick dramatic kiss on the top of my forehead. “Seriously, I never would have even thought to look into any of that.” He stepped back. I was slightly taken about by his actions had we always been this touchy with one another when John B was around. “So where the hell do we start Nancy Drew?” JJ said, rubbing his hands together making me laugh. 

“The ferry would be a good place?” I said shrugging my shoulders. “But I haven't exactly thought that far ahead” I laughed a little, and saw a smile still on JJ’s face.

“Then we’ll start at the ferry’s office!”  JJ said moving out of the office. I looked up and around the room. At all the research that my father did. All the books that line the walls, the maps hung up, all of it. I wanted to get rid of it. My skin felt hot and I could feel it turning red. I gripped the table tightly, hoping the anger would pass. A picture frame on the wall caught my attention. I lifted it from the hook it was sitting on. In the frame was a picture of the Royal Merchant, labeled and matted. Stuck on the outside of the glass, covering the lower corner of the Merchant was a picture of the three of us, John B, my dad, and I. It was taken a few summers ago by our neighbor, we had come back from a long day out on the boat fishing. I felt tears start to form in my eyes. My back was facing the door so I didn’t see JJ enter the room. He came up behind me, putting his hands on either of my shoulders. He looked down at the photos in my hands. 

I reached one hand up to wipe a stray tear. I was so sick of crying. “I can’t believe that a shipwreck from the 1800s made me lose two of the most important people in my life.” 

“I know” JJ spun me around to look at him. “You have a plan,” He said smiling

“We’ve got a plan” I corrected him. “Actually, before we head out on this chase, do you think you could help me with something?” I said softly. 

“Anything,” JJ replied. The worried look still in his eyes.  

“Can you help me clean up here?” I looked around at the mess, from when I got here, and the mess that I had just made. “I don’t know, I just want to clean it up, lock the door, and not think about it for a while,” I said, starting to fold-up maps. 

“Of course.” JJ smiled starting to close up binders and arrange them on the shelf. “If  you were going to use me as a maid Routledge, you could have at least bought me one of those cute costumes?” 

I pretended to gag. “JJ that is an image that I did not need in my head.” 

“You may not have needed it, but I bet you’re enjoying it.” He winked in my direction. I felt the blush creeping back onto my face. 

“In your dreams J,” I said with a laugh. 

CH 6

Tagged; @nikki082489 @lovelymaybankk @dolanfivsosxox @alexa-playafricabytoto @downbytheouterbanks @heyhargrove​ @kayln021 @readysteadygo23   @im-a-stranger-thing @imagines-and-preferences1216

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[terrminallycapricious]

Gamzee: Get rid of her.

Gram was surprised he even slept for a single hour. Waking up, he didnt want to waste any time. He fed the dogs, fed the snake, fed the kitten. Got this and that done in the house, before getting ready to go to Alternia once again.

Can't be too careful, so he slips on full protective clothing. Nothing heavy, or anything. Just to cover his exposed skin enough, except his head. The sun wasn't up, that wasn't the issue, here. Though, he wishes he had some bulletproof vests or something. Oh, well. The boots are the last to go on, and he's out to the transportalizer, putting in the coordinates, and appearing in the nearest port closest to the palace.

Stepping off and making his way closer, his heart starts to race, knowing what hes going to be doing. Luckily, things don't seem horribly busy, but a few trolls keep noticing him and talking amongst themselves, pointing. The Empress may be alerted before he even goes there, not like she would hide, though. She has way too much pride to be hiding or stepping down in any way. Soon, that won't be even a thought.

Gram makes his way straight into the palace. Guards run up to him, not too many, but he is now in full focus. He shoves away guards, some he just ignores quick enough to not get hit or shot. He didn't want to wear himself down using his power already for just the guards, so hands are good enough. Some poor guards even suffer a large claw wound from him, which makes gram have to shake his hand off before entering the throneroom as quickly as possible. The clown runs straight in the large doors, kicking out the guards, punching them, tripping them, just so he can close the heavy doors and lock them. He had learned how when he was working under the Empress. So much gold on them, though. Was that reaaaaally a good idea? Anyway.

Once those are closed, there are about 6 guards in the room, and outside the other currently closed doors, and there she is, the Empress. She knows exactly who is here, she doesn't need to see him at all. She sits up a bit more, looking in the direction she hears him breathing in. "You came back?"

Gram glared at her, and spoke in a sarcastic tone. "Oh yeah, I missed ya real bad. Can't stay away."

He walked up toward her, which makes her guards stand in front of her throne. Stopping in front of them, he stares in their eyes, like needles he fries their eyes quickly with his power, just as similar to the empress, though they were easier, and they have a chance of healing. For now, they hold their faces, going to the small block in the palace through the side door, for medical emergencies. Since Gram's last incident, they thought to move all that much closer to the throneroom. The other guards step in now, though hesitant seeing what just happened, and seen others they work for get harmed by this clown. One of them steps back to where they were standing, the other comes up to Gram, then backs up again once he gives them a look.

"Thats fuckin right." he laughed.

The empress looked down in Gram's direction once again, having heard what just happened, but not bothering to step in to avoid those guards getting hurt. "Do you plan on killing me?" It was almost as if she had read his mind, maybe she did.

Gram glared again. "I don't know, how far can I get?" 

Without letting her speak up, he starts up his chucklevoodoo once again. Going straight for the brain. She screams and grabs her head, and immediately kicks him down with her sharp heel. This knocks him down and makes it stop, grunting at the impact on the hard floor. Things start quickly. The other guards that were hesitating before, point their weapons at Gram. One shoots him in the same leg that he was shot in before, making the clown growl in pain. He got up, though, attacking the guard and knocking that gun out of his hand. He goes right for the guards neck, biting a chunk out of it and spitting it away. They were too in shock to bother to try to make it to the medical block, as they were bleeding out quickly.

"ANYONE ELSE WANT TO FUCKIN TRY M-"

He was cut short, not by a guard, but by the Empress, who kicked him down once again, aiming her trident right at his torso.

"You wont get very far, your friend is just going to have to come back to save you again. You already took my eyes from me, I wont let you finish the job, you filth."

Gram laughed and looks up the gold trident, and then at her face. Still with a smile, though he will admit he is afraid of getting hurt beyond repair, or at least, wont be repaired easily.

"Ya won't, 'cuz you dont know anyone else like me. I know you wanna use me for somethin, don't you? that would be a damn shame."

"You think I won't?"

"Yeah, no, that would be a bad fuckin idea."

"You haven't taken me down yet, and you wont. I can easily replace you. Goodbye, Gamzee."

He grabs her trident above the points, just right at the handle, and shoves it away, right as she stabs down toward him. This stabs into the floor, JUST right below his armpit. He lets out a goofy laugh, at just barely missing that. He rolls to the side immediately. She realizes she missed him and raises the trident toward where she can hear his footsteps.

"Havin trouble motherfucker? lemme fix that." Once again he aims his chucklevoodoo at her, with all he can put out, stronger than ever, driven by his adrenaline. She screams once again, grabbing and scratching at her own head. She tries to fight back once again which makes the pain worse, but it shoots back to gram. This makes him wince, but he doesnt stop. Not until she is down and not fighting. So much for taking her brain, hes sure it'll be like soup in there once hes done. She swings her trident and stabs wildly to get him to stop. A few times, her trident cut into his arm, his side, and one point of the trident even stabbed into his left shoulder. He grunted in pain, gritting his teeth together, but he still kept going. She finally fell after a while, unable to keep herself up from the pain. She couldn't fight back anymore, not after the damage from the first time that the others at the palace could not repair a hundred percent. The Empress did however have new bionic eyes being made, but now that won't matter.

Gram heard the other guards that were left in the room that didn't run off, coming at his back. Only two. His powers were still going hard, he looked away from the Empress only for a moment to knock those two down, which wasn't hard as they didn't expect it. Not the smartest guards you have here, Ma'am. He then turns back to her, continuing to fry her, coming toward her as he does, picking up her trident she was frantically reaching for after she fell. His eyes glowed brightly and he could feel his own eyes getting tired, his brain was wearing out. Now was a good time as any. he stepped beside her, and raised the trident high above her writhing body, and stabbed right into her heart as hard as possible, til it went all the way through and hit the hard floor. Once again she screamed, and lost her voice immediately. Clawing and grabbing at the trident, she tried pulling it out, with what life she had left. How could she let someone so easily take her down? It's all so pathetic, and embarrassing. She won the throne, she worked hard for it.

Gram pulled the trident out, and stabbed again, twice, into her mess of a heart. This finally silenced her. She writhed still a bit longer. Gram watched silently, stopping the chucklevoodoo. His new rainbow drinker DNA, was screaming hungry. This is what he's been preparing for. No time to think. He pulls the trident out, putting it in his sylladex, and drops to her freshly dead body. He bit right into her, drinking as much as his body could take. Gotta make SURE she is dead. If the other guards were still in the room, they're out now. Gram can hear them faintly panicking outside the doors, but all that's in his mind, is that she taste delicious. He goes at this for a while, until he is just about too full. Part of him comes in behind, and goes right for biting and chewing her flesh. Ripping it all to pieces, some he spits out in the bloody mess on the floor. What a messy eater.

She's unrecognizable at this point, and grams body feels like he's drunk. But his energy is high and happy. He laughed, sitting up and taking out a knife, cutting up what was left, taking bones, and putting them in the sylladex, one after another, until she looked like animals had gotten to her. He had also filled up a few bottles with the leftover blood, putting that away too. He stood up again, and by the time he did, he looked over, and there were terrified guards, and people who worked in the palace, staring at him. The news had gotten out already. He felt he had somehow intensely colorful tunnel vision toward them. But he didnt say anything to them, he just walked ahead to the side door, moving straight to where he knew the prison was. His own blood, and her blood and meat, dripping off of him. One thing he had in mind after he would be successful - Release the prisoners. He makes his way down, still having those keys he was given. What a fool Empress, never asking for those back. He took them out, and started releasing them, one by one. He didnt bother to speak, his mind was just on autopilot. He felt floaty, and he's just going to silently enjoy this til he can think clearer.

After maybe 30+ prisoners were let free, a lot less than last time due to some being sadly killed off, he scanned the area for more, then headed back up. It didn't seem like anyone was mad at Gram. Maybe scared. Some of the higher up people next to the Empress seem to have come out to the palace aswell. Gram tried to avoid them as quickly as possible. He will return soon, but for right now, no talking, just leave. He quickly finds the nearest port again, and puts in his coordinates, stepping on straight to home. He had just barely avoided those older trolls.

As soon as he was home, he laid right down on the floor in there. Just for a little while. God hes so full, and his head is spinning, not terribly though but it is. His body wants to get up and move around, do more, but it also wants to just lay here for a long time. Staying here is good. He'll treat those wounds later. Well done, Gamzee. You caused chaos on Alternia. Hopefully for the better. He has many plans for when he heads back, hopefully he wont be greeted with anything horrible. He was very very proud of himself, though. What's best? He didn't get horribly disfigured. Time to rest.

[hrtiu]

Rexsoka Week Day 2! The prompt is ‘War.’ I guess yesterday’s sad fic got me feeling like some fluff, so I somehow managed to write this from the prompt, haha.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26727667

This story is set in the universe of the Rex/Ahsoka series that I wrote, so if you haven't read that series the context is that this story is set around the time of The Mandalorian, Ahsoka has agreed to teach and take care of The Child (who is named Dral), Rex and Ahsoka are married, and Dral used Force healing to de-age Rex.

This Means War

Rex liked to collect things, which was a sweet habit in theory. Ahsoka loved that somebody who’d never really been able to own things for so long now gathered and treasured his possessions like the most precious of metals. The problem was that the things Rex collected were junk. Trash. Garbage. Useless by any reasonable standard.

Normally Ahsoka tolerated the hoarding because she loved Rex and, living on a near-empty planet, it wasn’t as if they were lacking for space. But several days into one of Rex’s week-long treks to a bigger planet for supplies Ahsoka was nearing the end of her rope.

Din was off on a hunt and Rex was away getting supplies, so Ahsoka was left as the sole caretaker for Dral. Dral wasn’t a particularly troublesome child, but all children were full-time projects, and Ahsoka wasn’t used to being the only one around to feed him, bathe him, clothe him, entertain him, teach him, and put him to bed. It was exhausting, and the last thing Ahsoka needed was to be unable to locate Dral’s bath towel in the closet among a literal mountain of Rex’s stuff.

Midway through Ahsoka’s rummaging something fell from one of the top shelves and hit Ahsoka right on the head, drawing several profane curses from her mouth. Looking down to the ground she identified the culprit: a long-since broken beyond repair blaster that Rex kept around for undetermined reasons.

“That’s it!” Ahsoka snarled, and Dral—still stark naked from his bath—stopped running around to turn back and stare at her, huge ears cocked in question.

“I’ve had it with all this junk lying around cluttering up my house! We’re getting rid of it, once and for all.”

Dral let out a concerned coo and Ahsoka snatched him up before he got it into his head to run away again. She towelled him off, dressed him, then marched him over to the closet that held the majority of Rex’s miscellany, setting him down next to her to watch while she sorted through his things.

Ahsoka wasn’t cruel. She knew Rex better than anyone in the galaxy and she didn’t throw anything out that she thought might have sentimental value. Dral still looked up at her with big, judgmental eyes, so she found herself justifying each item she put in the toss pile to him.

“Look, a takeout menu from some probably closed restaurant on Coruscant. What could he possibly do with that?”

“This is a random piece of plastoid he found in the sand once on some desert planet. It looks like clone armor, but he didn’t know who owned it, and it’s not even a full piece of armor! There’s no reason to keep it.”

“Circuits to a burnt-out probe droid.”

“And here? A bag of rocks. Just a bag of completely ordinary rocks.”

The next day Ahsoka gathered up all the things she’d deemed disposable and took them with her speeder to the dump. They lived in a remote part of a remote planet, so the dump that she and her few distant neighbors used was a few hours away, but it would be worth it to declutter the house. When Ahsoka returned, she walked into her home and breathed in deeply, feeling renewed and refreshed. It was like she’d been carrying the weight of that full closet on her shoulders and the weight was finally lifted. Rex would be mad at her at first, but he’d quickly come to appreciate the service she’d done. Force, he might not even notice that some things were missing.

---

Rex came home the next day with meat for the carnivores and some other household goods that were hard to get on Ossus. He noticed.

“Ahsoka, did you see that blaster I bought at that pawn shop last year?” he asked

Ahsoka froze midway through wrestling Dral into his high chair for lunch.

“You mean the broken one that will probably never blast again?”

“Well, that’s one way to describe it. It’s a classic, not produced anymore.”

“...It’s in a better place now.”

Rex returned to the kitchen, his brow furrowed. “What did you do…?”

Ahsoka sighed. She didn’t regret throwing the stuff away, but actually telling Rex about what she’d done was harder. “There’s all this… stuff you always have lying around that you’re never going to do anything with.”

Rex narrowed his eyes at her. “Out with it.”

“I threw it away, OK? I went through that supply closet and anything that didn’t have sentimental value I threw away.”

“How do you know what has sentimental value to me?”

“Really?” Ahsoka said, hand on her hip. “Are you trying to tell me you had an emotional connection to those probe droid circuits?”

“I was going to fix that.”

“You’ve had it for five years, Rex!”

Rex sucked on his teeth and slowly shook his head, a surefire sign that he was angry.

“You know what this means, right?” he said slowly, evenly.

“What?” Ahsoka said cautiously, as the feeling that she would regret what she’d done sunk into her gut.

“This means war.”

---

As far as Ahsoka could tell, Rex wasn’t doing anything differently, and it was driving her crazy. She knew he’d meant business when he’d declared war, and he was certainly shorter and more cool with her than usual, but nothing he did seemed to match those ominous words. It made Ahsoka jumpier than usual, and she went about her normal life for several days in suspense, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

In the meantime, she continued teaching Dral, helping around the house, and maintaining her contacts with the remaining fragments of the Rebellion and the burgeoning New Republic on the off chance she could help out with something. Rex kept up with the housework, took care of Dral, and coordinated with the clone rehabilitation house he’d helped establish on Seelos. Everything continued as normal.

Then she tripped over a pile of her dirty clothes in their room.

Then she couldn’t find a clean cup when she wanted a glass of water.

Then she found melted chocolate rubbed into one of her favorite blankets.

Then she couldn’t clear a space for work on her messy desk.

“Ok,” she said on the third day over dinner. “I get it now. You’re making a mess for me? You want me to live in a rankor pit as punishment?”

Rex looked up from his plate of food with a look of pure innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The clothes. The dishes. My desk. You’re doing it on purpose!”

“I’m not doing anything, Ahsoka.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, but he just picked up his cup of tea and sipped it placidly.

“What do you mean you’re not doing anything? I just told you-”

“I’m not doing anything anymore.”

Ahsoka continued to stare at Rex, then her eyes widened as understanding dawned. “You… you’re saying I’m messy?”

Dral cooed and looked back and forth between them, his eyes wide and curious at the unusual displays of aggression from his caretakers.

“I didn’t say anything. The evidence speaks for itself.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Come on, Ahsoka,” Rex said, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t clean up after yourself. You know that.”

Ahsoka did not know that, and she would not respond to the accusation.

“I’m not blaming you,” Rex continued. “It’s not your fault you grew up in a fancy temple where your quarters were cleaned regularly by somebody else.”

Ahsoka’s jaw dropped. Is this how Rex saw her? “That’s not true and I’ll prove it. Keep not picking up after me and see if I care.”

“I already did that and you did care.”

“Well keep doing it and see. I’ll be just fine,” she said, defiantly picking up her dirty plate and stacking it with Rex’s and Dral’s to take to the sink.

“Hey, I wasn’t done ye-” Rex said, reaching back for his dirty plate.

“Well, you’re done now,” Ahsoka said, shoving the dishes in the sink and turning on the water.

She expected this to be the part where he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her stomach, telling her he was done fighting and was sorry, but he didn’t. The chair scraped behind her and Dral’s giggles drifted off down the hallway, and Ahsoka continued washing dishes sulkily.

She hated when she got like this. Over the years Ahsoka had put great effort and intention into tamping down her impetuous, snarky side—the side that had earned her the name ‘Snips.’ Life had become too serious, too tragic for that kind of attitude. She let it come out sometimes still, mostly around Rex, which was part of why she loved him. But she hated when it came out by accident—not because she wanted to relax and be free and easy but because she was feeling petulant and unable to hide it.

Ahsoka finished the last dish and placed it carelessly on the drying rack. She leaned over the sink and sighed. Eventually they’d apologize to each other and this would end, but Rex had declared war, and she wasn’t quite ready to lose yet.

---

Rex and Ahsoka each escalated their war of attrition over the next few days. Rex stopped doing Ahsoka’s laundry and stopped cleaning her study, and Ahsoka found a few items of his each day to put in a box destined for the dump. They spoke to each other rarely, which Ahsoka hated but stuck to stubbornly. She sometimes told Dral about her problems, but he wasn’t the greatest conversationalist, and she missed Rex’s easy company.

On the third day Din returned and Ahsoka was thrilled to finally have another adult to confide in. As soon as he stepped through their front door she was right there with a drink and straw and an invitation to tell her about his hunt. Din seemed confused, but indulged her with a few stories. He politely ignored the messy, chaotic state of her study.

At dinner Ahsoka continued to ask Din about his travels while Rex silently fed Dral. Din tried his best but he’d never been much of a talker, and Ahsoka had resorted to asking him where he refuelled when he held up a hand to stop her.

“Wait up. What’s going on here?”

“What do you mean?” Ahsoka asked innocently.

“Don’t play dumb. What’s up with you two? You’re usually all over each other.”

Rex huffed indignantly and Ahsoka sputtered.

“We’re fine,” Ahsoka said.

“Look, I can’t be the only one either of you gets your social interaction from. Figure this out, alright?” Din said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to spend my evening with my son who I haven’t seen in weeks.”

With that, Din rose from the table and picked Dral up, who burbled happily in his arms. They headed off in the direction of Din’s room, leaving only Ahsoka and Rex in the kitchen.

Ahsoka looked across the table at Rex and gave him a wry smile. “Well…” she said after some hesitation, “maybe we should negotiate a ceasefire.”

Rex’s shoulders shook with a chuckle and he couldn’t help the slight smile that raised the corner of his mouth. “That’s probably for the best. I’ve been missing you.”

“I’m sorry I threw out your stuff,” Ahsoka blurted out, all the apologies that had built up in her head coming out at once. “I can go back to the dump to get it. It was all in just a few big boxes, and it’s probably still at the top-”

“It’s alright, cyare,” Rex said, walking around the table to Ahsoka and taking her hands in his. “You were right, most of that stuff wasn’t really worth keeping. But… do me a favor and next time you want to clean things out, just ask me which things I want to save first.”

Ahsoka wrapped her arms around Rex and buried her face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” she said, just one more time for good measure.

“All is forgiven. And… I should have been more direct with you, too. It was childish of me to punish you like that,” Rex said into her montrals, stroking a hand down her lek.

Ahsoka sighed in contentment, relieved at finally being back where she was always meant to be. “I hate it when you’re mad at me,” she said, eyes closed.

Rex chuckled and pulled her in tighter. “Doesn’t happen very often.”

“That just makes it even harder when it does. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“We make a good team. And so long as we’re being patient with each other’s… flaws, everything works out.”

“Then I guess I’ll let you keep more stuff in the house and you keep picking up my dirty clothes?”

“Works for me.”

“It feels like I’m getting the better end of that bargain, now that I think about it…” Ahsoka said.

Rex laughed again. “Naw, I’m pretty sure I got a real steal.”

Ahsoka sighed in contentment, basking in the comfort of her husband’s arms. Peacetime was good.

[icosmohunters]

chapter four : blind rage

chapter four of cosmo hunters!

word count : 4.7k words

synopsis : crimson is dead and hope has finally received her reward. but it is not a celebratory event considering she was injured during the mission, all because of a dumb move from her pirate passengers. and her anger is bubbling up, ready to overflow, or worse, explode.

her ears were still ringing from the explosion.

it’s indescribable what being near an explosion can do to you, but being near two may potentially mess you up in ways unimaginable. hope has never been the type to set off bold traps like that to catch her criminals. she’s always been very precise and quiet when it comes to killing, making a ruckus just didn’t make any sense to her.

at this point, her head was throbbing from increasing agony. it felt like someone had taken a drum and started banging it repeatedly by her head. it came to a point where keeping her eyes were better off closed. but she needed to get back to the ship fist.

now, she had no idea how those pirates found their way to her, how they’d managed to find the location and set up two explosives on the walls. whatever tactics they used, whatever reason they had, she didn’t want to hear any of it. if anything, she didn’t want to hear anything from them at all.

on the hoverbike ride back to the docks, hope was fighting against the exhaustion that had come from that mission. but she had officially killed the criminal on top of her bounty list.

crimson, in his life as a criminal, had pillaged, stolen, killed and hurt hundreds of people for his own sick pleasure. and with him gone, hope considered the galaxy to be somewhat safer. but there were people still out there who would still challenge peaceful ways of living. and hope wasn’t for it.

people such as pirates.

for some reason, the trip back took longer, and it was probably because hope gave up on the idea of reckless driving and wounded up being careful this time around, mostly because she felt like she was dying and that if she acted recklessly here now, she would end up doing more damage to herself.

hope soon said goodbye to the main road and took a harsh left before she was riding through the docks once again. it took her a while to find e dock, and upon seeing nebula, she heard a small jingle tapping against her ear into her earphone.

a.j.

“ you’re injured ”.

hope sighed whilst dismounting the hoverbike. and upon disconnecting it from her system, she then sent the hoverbike on an autopilot mode. it drove off along with its helmet, most likely to the nearest hoverbike parking space. she was going to miss it dearly, it had helped her a lot that day.

“ it’s only a migraine, a.j, relax. besides, being injured won’t stop me from giving those pirates a nice smack over the head of every single one of them, who told them to get involved with my mission?! ”, she yelled and noticed the rise of her tone. realizing she couldn’t bring attention to herself, she blinked and shook her head. “ but i’m okay. did you call voyage? i want my reward. ”

a.j sighed, “ hope, i have scanned your condition. you might have a blast injury. ”

hope paused for a moment and let out a laugh. hope rarely laughed. maybe she was going insane. “ what? those two weren’t even a-bomb level explosions. i’ll be fine, it’s just the shoc— ”.

“ hope, i recommend laying down. blast injuries can cause damage to air-filled organs in the human body and something in that explosion was off. it wasn’t just a grenade or something of the sort ”, a.j explained. hope listened carefully. “ i recommend laying down and looking for medicine. ”

hope didn’t like arguing with a.j. usually, there was no point in arguing with him because he was always factually correct and she wouldn’t not trust him. he’s been her companion for years, he wouldn’t lie about something like this. something like an injury.

so she bit her lip and chose to follow his instructions. she watched the hatchet open up and the stairs appear and began to take the steps up into the ship she was worried about fo the whole mission. 

upon entering, she found that the pirates hadn’t returned yet. and she didn’t care if they didn’t. she hoped that they would find themselves caught by a voyager officer. ever since she took them in, they’ve been nothing but a headache and now they were out causing mayhem. and hope didn’t like it.

the first place she went to was her bedroom, where she quickly changed out of her clothes and into her bathing robe. if she was going to relax, she might as well do it properly. before leaving for the shower, though, she set down her change of clothes folded neatly at the foot of her bed.

now that the engine was working properly, the warm water was allowed to come on. the bathroom was actually quite big, big enough to fit a shower and a bath in case she got bored of one. hope didn’t take to long when it came to showering. she simply got rid of the ash and dirt that had settled on her skin and then washed her hair quickly. it was like when she was back home, excited to finish her shower to get more sleep-time after a long day at school.

i should probably give mom or dad a call soon, she thought after stepping out. she put on her robe once more and she didn’t leave until she’d dried her hair, finding it hand to brush it at first because she had no more moisturizing cream. 

in around twenty minutes, she had changed into some suitable clothes and had taken the medicine that a.j had recommended for her. her eyes would often dart to the time, wondering just where those pirates were and if they would be making an entrance before she left the docks. if not, she wouldn’t mind it either.

before she could even think about relaxing, though, she realized she had to come into contact with voyage in order to tell them about crimson’s status. so she went up to her navigation cabin and after fiddling with the control panel for a bit, a projector emitted a holographic figure of some sort. it took a moment for the image to clear but hope soon found it to be lieutenant creed.

creed was a tall man of african origin, with a strong and defined facial structure and deep-set eyes holding a mixture of sagacity and purpose. hope had never noticed it but there were freckles which could be seen scattered against his cheeks, a charming detail to a man who often terrified her with a single glance.

“ hope. how lovely for you to call. i expect some good news? ”.

hope nodded and bowed her head respectively. “ crimson is dead. i’ll give the coordinates to where you can find his body. it’s an alleyway, east-central of j-colony. nearby the shopping district. i don’t suppose it’ll take longer for your team to find him ”, she explained, typing in the said coordinates into a dialing pad.

creed seemed to have received it. his gaze fell down to something hope couldn’t quite see but she imagined it to be the details she’d sent. “ well done. i suppose you can finally cross him out of your bounty list. your reward will be transferred to your account by tomorrow, earth-time ”, the lieutenant explained. hope let out a sigh of relief and nodded. “ but, hope. i can’t help but ask why you look so pale. ”

hope blinked. creed was always a man who centered his attention on his work but it never stopped him from behind somehow caring. or at least critical and watchful. “ oh, it’s nothing. a.j says it’s a blast injury ”, she spoke and saw an expression of alarm pass over creed’s face. “ b-but it’s okay, sir. well, uh, crimson managed to lead me into a trap into this alleyway. but i got him nonetheless before he could escape. ”

she didn’t know why she, even now, dared to cover up the work of the pirates. it was most likely because she didn’t want creed to suspect that maybe she was hiding criminals in her ship. yes, she just didn’t want her reputation tarnished because of those guys.

“ still, i hope these explosions didn’t cause too much damage. we need you, hope ”, his voice became kinder in a way, hope couldn’t help but be reminded of her father back home. “ i suggest getting some rest. and if it is serious, travel to the hospital over at j-colony. i’ll even put you down for an emergency check-up if you need it. ”

hope quickly shook her head, “ n-no, sir, that won’t be necessary. the symptoms have only been a slight migraine, nothing too serious. ” she says that even though it felt like a dozen nails were being hammered into her skull. 

creed nodded, and she saw the way his head seemingly dropped with some tone of worry. he then tilted his head but he didn’t look towards her, it was like he was avoiding her gaze. “ i’ve received some news from your father ”, he exclaimed in a put-on, lighthearted tone. hope’s interest skyrocketed. “ he’s been dispatched from the hospital. but it appears they won’t be able to get him a metal arm for a couple of months. there’s been a high demand for them in the corporation, especially for those who sustained injuries in battle. ”

hope’s gaze dropped to her lap. her father worked for voyage just like she had. he’s been there even before she was born and has always said it was his home, but a month ago he got into an aerial altercation and the blast his ship suffered was enough to shatter his arm beyond repair. they found it would have been best to amputate the arm and wait for a metal reestablishment until they had enough money to pay for a surgery to give him a new arm with his own cells.

hope hasn’t been there to visit him once.

“ i suppose that is good news. i was expecting something worse ”, hope chuckled and lightly shook her head as to avoid another pinch of the migraine. “ i-if you come into contact with him before i do, tell him i miss him terribly. and that i’ll try my best to visit him soon enough. ”

creed nodded his head, “ certainly. well, i hate to cut this short but duty is calling. again, thank you for taking care of the major problem. and rest and take care of yourself before you even think of hunting again. ” hope laughed lightheartedly. creed wasn’t threatening when he was caring. “ goodbye, hope. ”

she waved and watched the holographic projector turn off. her smile dropped as she leaned against her chair and let out an exasperated sigh. too much was happening all at once, her thoughts were accumulating into a worse headache and it was difficult to sort even the smallest of things, like the fact that she could rest now. 

but hope still remained anxious even on her way to her bedroom. her father . . . she was worried about his reaction to all of this. he’s always been so eager about his job and what he does and to suddenly have to stop working might impact him negatively. he was like her, in that he always had to be doing something, even whilst not working. 

by the time she reached her bed, the pain was overbearing and she thought she was going to start screaming in agony. but it seemed that the agony knocked her out before she could think to complain. her eyes were droopy and the feeling of hard, heavy rocks bashing against her head faded slowly as she dozed off. too exhausted to think about the pirates. too exhausted to think about anything at all.

time skip  ﹏

a jovian day is nine hours. hope, therefore, didn’t know whether she had slept a day or perhaps two days based on when the cobwebs of sleep lifted at the feeling of something being pressed to her forehead. she had lost the sense of time in her sleep, but it didn’t matter entirely too much because those hours of sleep were perhaps the most sleep she’s ever gotten in her young adult life.

hope awoke with a sense of discomfort somewhere in her body. there was an overwhelming ache that felt like it was affecting her bones more than her muscles, like there was something biting at her skeletal structure and sometimes gnawing at her nerves. she thought that maybe she had been kidnapped by bizarre aliens and was being experimented on.

but after a couple of minutes, she was able to open her eyes through the exhaustion and found a figure sat at the side of her bed. a figure holding what seemed to be a wet cloth to her face. if she had been feeling energized, hope would have smacked the hand away. but she was drained, unable to move or keep herself awake for too long.

her vision cleared and that’s when she recognized this figure to be dawn. 

the soft-faced girl seemed to sense hope’s waking presence as she caught her eyes and jumped slightly, but her expression softened as she removed the cloth from her face. hope almost asked her to put it back, it was a nice distraction from the pain.

“ you slept for twelve hours ”, dawn began by saying. her tone was soft, almost inaudible. but it was better than being welcomed by an out-going voice or even worse, a.j’s sultry, matter-of-fact, sarcastic tone. 

hope craned her head to the left slightly to peer at her digital clock, it was around 3 o’clock, jovian time. she sighed and turned her head back to its original position slowly. so the pirates had managed to find the ship. from what she could tell, nebula hadn’t taken off. so nobody had navigated her whilst she was sleeping. at least, she hoped that was the case.

dawn continued, “ we took our time getting back because we needed to get some stuff. clothes, weapons, that sort of thing. vivi also wanted to see the city properly, it’s the largest in the galaxy, after all. ” the girl chuckled softly and hope just watched and listened.

“ i-i couldn’t help but worry about you, though. t-the explosive enzo set up, he thought it would just be one that would stun anyone within the premise of its location. he thought it would have been useful for you to be able to catch crimson. b-but it ended up being a toxic smoke that was released ”, hope’s eyes widened slowly. “ w-we all managed to cover our mouths and noses but we forgot to warn you as well. ”

crimson had been wearing a mouth-mask during the chase. it had come off at some point but hope recalls him slipping it on after the first explosive went off. so he knew it was a toxic bomb rather than anything else. and she had been the one completely oblivious to all of it, the one injured and affected by the toxicity and only her. nobody else seemed to have gotten hurt.

hope’s blood started to boil, and it didn’t help that she was injured. but she was so angry, so bitter about all of this that she lost that sense of care towards her own well-being. what she knew is that she hated every single pirate aboard her ship at that very moment. 

not only had they nearly ruined her mission by acting recklessly and independently, but they also didn’t think to warn her just before the second bomb went off that she could have at least avoided being poisoned by toxic gas. it didn’t even run through their overbearingly confident minds that she at least deserved some clarity in her own mission.

they had stepped out of the nebula when she told them not to. they had jumped into action when they weren’t needed and they had nearly caused her target to run away when they could have just sat back and avoided screwing it all up for her.

oh, the rage hope felt couldn’t be explained even with the widest lexicon of a human being.

soon, she had kicked off her blankets and forced herself up. dawn yelped and tried to get her to lay down but hope managed to avoid her panicked pushing and broke through and got herself out of bed. then, without some effort required, she charged towards the door. there was a slight limp in her step as her right leg felt like it was asleep, or perhaps it was just the toxicity eating away at her bones. 

her bedroom door slid open and hope could hear dawn running after her, “ h-hope, you should lay d-down! y-you can’t be making sudden movements, y-your body is still recovering. ”

hope laughed bitterly as her eyebrows suddenly became stuck in a growing frown. “ now’s not the time to be caring about my well-being when we could have avoided this problem, to begin with, had your crew, i don’t know, told me about toxic bombs which they’d planted. or better yet, stayed inside the goddamn ship! ”, tone rising, hope’s footsteps quickened to where she heard voices.

the doors to the lounge opened and hope stepped in to see the pirates sat around so comfortably, at home as if they weren’t totally worried about the fact that she was a second away from perhaps strangling one of them with her bare hands. 

when the doors opened, enzo was the first to turn and look back and the smile on his face suddenly dropped. hope took a moment to lean against the wall and heard the doors open again and dawn rush over to her side, as if bracing herself for something.

“ w-why are you out of bed? ”.

“ let me do you one better, why are you still on my ship?! ”.

enzo jumped to his feet with furrowed brows, “ we were trying to help! i know you warned us but you’re not the boss of us here, at least not of them. i am. and i thought we could have helped you. we just didn’t want our ride to pluto getting into trouble. w-we meant no harm, hope! ”.

hope couldn’t help but let out an exasperated laugh, she couldn’t believe it! “ how about next time you’re trying to help someone, you use some of those brain cells to conduct a plan that won’t kill them!? ”, it wasn’t even a question, she was genuinely angry. “ god! and you still have the courage to come back here like i’m still going to take you somewhere. pack it up, get the fuck out! ”.

“ h-hop— ”.

“ get out! ”.

the more she yelled, the more lightheaded she felt. she took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair, pulling at it slightly to ground herself because she felt like she was due to faint at any moment. 

“ you enter my ship. you take my shit as if it’s for free. you strike a bargain and sit around like you own the place and then you have the audacity, the audacity to intervene with my mission by dumping two toxic explosives into an alleyway. crimson almost got away! but hell, even he knew that the bombs were toxic, who cared to tell me that if i’d covered my mouth and nose, i wouldn’t have been poisoned!? ”, she continued.

“ we didn’t know it was a toxic bomb. we just took whatever shit you had on your ship and rolled with it ”, now dom spoke, and hope really wished he hadn’t. because every single time he opens his mouth, he enrages her to her breaking point. “ i mean, aren’t you like a 4-star bounty hunter? why didn’t you notice there were two explosives? ”.

“ because i was chasing a fucking crook into an alleyway with the intention of killing him, without the knowledge that you idiots would go against my orders and hatch a plan amongst yourselves and then never warn me! ”, hope shouted and threw up two fingers. “ two chances. you had two chances to warn me. you could have tapped into my tracker and told me. or you could have told me that the gas was toxic so at least i wouldn’t be limping all over the place! ”.

her throat started aching at this point and she burst into coughing, painful coughing that caused a shattering trail of torture throughout every bone in her body, it felt like a bomb had gone off her in her and her brain was barely able to hold itself in place.

hope felt a gentle hand against her back, probably dawn’s hand and didn’t really have the courage to pull away. she held her own hand to her forehead and furrowed her brows. she was out of breath, she could barely think but she knew that she was angry and at any moment, the anger might turn to murder.

vivienne’s voice broke through the silence, “ i think we should let her rest. whatever happened, it’s done now. and hope’s injured. she needs to be in a good condition even if she does end up taking us to where we have to be or not. ”

“ i won’t ”, hope muttered slowly.

dom laughed, “ well, i think it’s a damn shame. ” even with a migraine, hope could see him stand up from his seat on the couch and move towards her. “ i mean, i told you guys that you don’t trust someone who just happens to work at voyage. they’re perfectionists and any slight inconvenience makes them have a hissy fit. ”

“ dominic ”, quinn called in a doubtful tone.

“ don’t dominic me, quinn. come on, even you agreed that this wasn’t a good idea. i mean, it’s a shame our lovely captain here got injured. but think about it in a positive light! if she’s gone, we can just take her ship and go. ”

hope didn’t know where the energy came from. but it was like something murderous and malevolent had awoken from within her aching body and suddenly she forgot all about the sense of consequence and the idea of karma. that went out of the window in a heartbeat.

because dom had approached her and he had said something that had her heart racing in the worst way possible. suddenly, she got up from her hunched position and moved forward and with a swift swing of the hand, smack!

she heard dawn gasp behind her.

she’d slapped dom, and she made the effort of curling her fingers into her fists to add even more damage and when he staggered back, she wrapped her aching fingers around his throat and wounded up pushing him against the nearest wall, forcefully and violently.

her forearm came to where her fingers were as she kept him pinned to the wall. she noticed her breathing was erratic and only when she saw the redness on his right cheek did she think to step down.

but she didn’t.

“ listen here. listen very fucking carefully to what i’m about to say ”, hope spat, eyes blazing and wide. she knew she probably looked like a maniac in the eyes of many but she’s been cool for too long now and all that was happening around her had blood steaming and evaporating with rage, the heat, and hatred she felt was unbearable. “ you’re going to have to learn your place. right now, you’re on the verge of being throw into the middle of space-time continuum if you keep this up. if you even think you have a single ounce of power on this ship, you’re mistaken. you’re not touching nebula until my dying breath and that won’t be anytime soon so long as i stay alive to make your life a living hell. ”

“ l-let me g— ”.

hope stopped dead in her tracks and a maniacal smile suddenly reached her lips. “ only because you asked nicely ”, she said. her grip on him loosened and she watched his figure go limp before he settled in a crouched position near the floor, coughing.

hope began to feel lightheaded again. but she had time. so she turned to the others and looked at them individually. “ and that goes for the rest of you. if you think you have a sense of authority over me for any sort of reason, don’t count on it. but know something; we’re not a team, we’re not friends, we’re not comrades. we’re not anything ”, hope declared. “ and know that so long as you’re on my ship, you’ll behave. or i’m dumping you all on the nearest planet. i hope i made myself clear. ”

coughing into her hand, hope inhaled deeply before swiftly exiting the lounge. she didn’t care what they thought. hopefully what she did was enough to encourage them to get off the ship right now and never return. she hoped they would leave and allow her to rest in peace, and let her go back to her normal way of living. she wanted them gone, gone.

she came to her bedroom and sat down on her bed before rubbing her tired, aching eyes.

“ fuck. ”

hope hadn’t lost her patience in ages. she realized now the effects of being isolated from people for so long. she was accustomed to an obedient, smart a.i who didn’t run around causing mayhem for her. she was accustomed to a smart ship who would take her anywhere and provide her a dozen adventures around the galaxy.

she wasn’t used to pirates and toxic bombs and being poisoned. she wasn’t used to the way her life had changed over a day or two. all because she allowed herself to be generous towards a group of people she hoped wouldn’t give her trouble.

but they did.

because she was stupid enough to throw her trust on the table when the trust wouldn’t be mutual when it wouldn’t be noticed and respected.

“ hope, i’d like a sample of your blood, please. ”

hope rose her head towards her bedside table and saw that it was only a.j doing a health check-up. she sighed and placed her hand on a small device. soon, she felt a needle strike her index finger and she hissed and quickly searched for a bandaid. all whilst waiting for a.j’s response. “ so, am i dying? ”, she questioned with a timbre of sarcasm.

“ the toxicity levels seemed to have gone down during your fit of rage. perhaps you should head down to the gym to blow off some steam ”, a.j recommended and hope didn’t respond, she just slowly got up from her bed and walked to her wardrobe. but then he spoke again. “ i sense guilt from you. ”

hope rolled her eyes, “ reboot your system, a.j. ”

“ i am not joking, hope. i heard everything. i can understand the reason for your rage. what they did was incredibly idiotic but i sense that you don’t feel too good about having yelled at them ”, he justified and his tone seemingly changed into something quieter, almost skeptical. “ you never lose your patience. ”

“ yeah, yeah, but i’m human and other humans piss me off. especially those who try to mingle with my style of living and feel entitled to help me like i’m a damsel in distress. i’ve been doing this for years, i don’t need help! ”, hope hastily snapped and groaned. “ stop making me talk about it. ”

“ my apologies. ”

hope started to browse through her workout clothes but then her mind wandered for a moment. she bit her lip and frowned. since when was she such a bitch to her a.i? since when was she such a bitch in general?

it’s those pirates, she knows it.

they’re the reason she’s like this.

but for some reason, she hasn’t gotten rid of them. and doesn’t plan to.

[peach-mangos]

My Friends Won’t Love Me Like You

☾ do kyungsoo/byun baekhyun

☾ fluff/roommates au/mutual pining/college au

☾ 2.9k

☾ a/n: based off of this prompt. title of this inspired by ed sheeran’s friends. you can read this here as well if you prefer. this isn’t my first exo fic, but it is however my first fic on this blog and also my first baeksoo heh. i hope anyone reading this enjoys it!!

A gasp slices through the silence of the dimly lit room. For a few seconds all that can be heard is heavy breathing and rustling sheets. “I overslept” Baekhyun wails, voice scratchy and panicked as he shoots up in bed, hair a tousled mess with strands sticking up in every direction. He tosses the sheets off of his body, and nearly falls face first into the carpeted floor of his bedroom. Standing on unsteady feet, he rushes towards the bathroom.

However, Baekhyun wouldn’t be Baekhyun if he didn’t somehow end up tripping over air—which, in his haste, he does. Realising he’s missed a step, he immediately prepares for impact. His eyes fall shut out of pure instinct, hands shooting out in front of him to break the fall.

The bathroom door swings open, and Kyungsoo releases a soft startled noise as he catches Baekhyun mid-fall. Recovered from the initial shock, Kyungsoo steadies Baekhyun on his feet and looks down at him waiting for him to open his eyes.

It takes Baekhyun a few seconds to realize that his body never made contact with the floor, and instead, he finds himself embraced in Kyungsoo’s strong and firm arms. He blinks up at him with wide eyes and releases a breath.

“Good morning” Kyungsoo says, tone equal parts amused and fond.

He would never admit it, but early morning Baekhyun is his favorite Baekhyun. Droopy eyed, disheveled hair and just barely awake. He always looks so soft and cozy, it warms up his insides and makes him want to—

“Shit” Baekhyun curses clutching at Kyungsoo’s nightshirt shaking them both out from their respective reveries. He whines in embarrassment and let’s his head fall forward already feeling warmth spreading across his cheeks and down his neck.

Hands still holding onto Baekhyun’s arms, Kyungsoo asks, “Are you okay?”

“I uh—yeah, sorry bout’ that” Baekhyun laughs, “not that coordinated this early in the morning”

“As opposed to any other time of day?” Kyungsoo teases eyes crinkling at the corners slightly from the smile forming on his face. He

“Ah, fuck off” Baekhyun groans rolling his eyes and shoving Kyungsoo to the side. “I’m so fucking late, it’s not even funny, so if you don’t mind”

Kyungsoo in turn releases a bright laugh as Baekhyun locks himself away in the restroom and shakes his head.

By the time Baekhyun emerges from the bathroom fresh and clean, Kyungsoo has already packed him a small lunch with last night’s leftovers. He waits till Baekhyun’s done gathering his belonging before he hands him a plastic plate with two warm pop tarts. Kyungsoo’s noticed that anytime he’s running late, Baekhyun always skips breakfast and it irritates him to no end.

“You are an angel” Baekhyun moans biting into one of the pop tarts, “Thanks, I’ll see you later okay! Have a nice day Soo!” he yells running out the door hardly giving Kyungsoo a chance to hand him his lunch.

Kyungsoo sputters indignantly and turns to stare at the food stuffed container with a pair of eating utensils propped on top of it with a slight pout.

“Byun Baekhyun” Kyungsoo sighs shaking his head.

With a quick glance at the time, he makes up his mind. He still has quite some time before he has to be at his first class—if he hurries—Kyungsoo thinks he’ll have just enough time to quickly pass by Baekhyun’s class, drop off his lunch and head straight to his own class.

Wasting no time, Kyungsoo shoots Chanyeol a quick text to let him know he won’t be able to meet him and Jongdae at the coffee shop this morning, then sets about getting ready as quickly as he can.

Forty five minutes later, Kyungsoo finds himself inside the Southern building of campus, sending off Minseok a quick text asking him to meet him him there. (Chanyeol had oh so kindly pointed out earlier that Minseok was the TA in Baekhyun’s history class—it would save him some time if Minseok did him the kind favor of handing him the packed lunch.)

“You alright there?” Minseok asks with a chuckle when a panting Kyungsoo appears before him. Kyungsoo merely flicks him off and hands him Baekhyun’s lunch while struggling to catch his breath. He leans against the nearest wall and doubles over for a few seconds before straightening up.

“Thanks hyung” he wheezes before retreating hurriedly.

“You owe me a coffee!” Minseok yells after his friend and laughs when he faintly makes out Kyungsoo throwing a thumbs up gesture.

Professor Kwon ends their lecture with a reminder of their upcoming midterm, and Baekhyun sighs. He gathers his notebook and pens and quickly stuffs them into his bag. As he makes his way towards the door, Minseok approaches him with a kind smile.

“Got something for you” he says (read: sing-songs) by way of greeting—not like there was any need for that since they’d spoken earlier that morning right before class began.

“For me?” Baekhyun frowns, his brows knitting in confusion. What could Minseok possibly have for him?

“Kyungsoo dropped this off for you earlier” Minseok tells him shoving a plastic bag into his arms, Baekhyun’s confused features quickly morph into fond and gratuitous ones, warmth blooming in his chest at Kyungsoo’s kind gesture. He happily takes the bag from Minseok’s hands, smiling softly and making a mental note to send Kyungsoo a quick thank you text.

“Thanks Min” he says looking up at his friend and slightly blushes when he catches sight of Minseok’s quirked brow and knowing smirk. Baekhyun clears his throat, clutching his lunch to his chest and nods at his friend. “So, I gotta get to class now, thanks again!” he quickly brushes past Minseok and hurries off to his next class heat still licking at his cheeks.

Chewing at his bottom lip, Baekhyun clicks his pen absentmindedly hardly paying any mind to his lecture. He slams his pen on his notebook and sighs in frustration. He mentally scolds himself for reading too much into Kyungsoo’s actions. It’s not like this is the first time he’s gone out of his way to look out for him. Still, the mere fact that Kyungsoo took the time to drop off his lunch for him all the way to this side of campus—despite having class at opposite ends of the Southern building—has his heart palpitating in his chest much too rapidly for it to be normal.

It’s just a lunch, Baekhyun thinks—why is he acting like it’s such a big deal? He lets his head fall against his desk releasing a pitiful whine, glad to be sitting towards the back of the classroom where he’s not in his professor’s direct line of sight.

There’s literally no reason for him to be overthinking things, but he can’t help it. If Baekhyun were being honest with himself (which he honestly wasn’t) he’d admit he’s hoping Kyungsoo went through all that trouble for him because—well just because.

It’s no lie he’s always been slightly attracted to Kyungsoo—okay, so slightly was putting it mildly—but Kyungsoo was a very handsome man, Baekhyun wasn’t blind for God’s sake, and from the moment he’d laid eyes on him he’d been doomed. Kyungsoo had swooped into his life—all thanks to his best friend Chanyeol—and had saved him from having to give up his newly acquired apartment when his previous roommate had decided to move in with his girlfriend, leaving him with a missing half of his rent and other shared bills.

It was within the first week that Baekhyun discovered Kyungsoo was more than a pretty face. He was very kind, funny and smart—and not to mention—he could cook as well (very deliciously to boot). On top of that, he had made Baekhyun feel comfortable around him from the get go, encouraging him to be himself without any fear of judgement from his part, and in the very early stages of their friendship, Baekhyun had developed budding feelings for his roommate.

No one could blame him.

Of course he soon realized it was a very bad idea to develop a crush on the guy he’d be living with for the next two years (as per requirement of their apartment contract)—things could get awkward real quick and he really didn’t need that.

So, Baekhyun willed his feelings away, buried them deep within him and carried on as if everything was fine. Which for the most part, it was. The problem therein lied with that just because he’d ‘willed those feelings away’ that didn’t mean said feelings didn’t sometimes rear their ugly face when Kyungsoo so much as looked at him with big soft sparkling eyes and an equally soft and warm smile.

Had Baekhyun been lucky enough to be in the private confines of his room, he’d have smacked his head against his desk repeatedly to get rid of his frivolous thoughts. Shaking his head, Baekhyun tries a little harder to pay attention to his professor rather than looking too much into this whole Kyungsoo ordeal.

It’s not like he means to, but after the lunch incident, Baekhyun starts to take notice in a lot of the things Kyungsoo does for him—and if he’s being honest, it does his foolish heart no good. Logically, he knows Kyungsoo’s just naturally a really nice guy that likes to look after his friends. Still, a small part of him is silly enough to hope that maybe somewhere deep down, Kyungsoo does these things for him because he might also feel some type of feelings (the kind that aren’t strictly platonic) towards Baekhyun.

It’s dangerous he thinks, to hope.

However, Baekhyun can’t seem to bring himself to care though as he blinks up at Kyungsoo, bleary eyed and ridden with exhaustion.

“I brought you some coffee” he tells him, his voice barely above a whisper. He sits on the chair opposite to his and slides over a paper cup his way while bringing his own up to his lips to take a sip.

“Thanks” Baekhyun croaks blinking sleepily. He brings his fists to rub at his eyes yawning a bit, then proceeds to wrap his hands around the cup of coffee reveling in its warmth. Releasing a happy sigh, Baekhyun closes his eyes and takes a careful sip of his warm beverage. “How’d you know I was here?” he asks placing his cup down in front of him—he tries really hard not to swoon at the fact that Kyungsoo seems to know his favorite drink.

“Oh you know” Kyungsoo begins placing his cup down in front of him, “I faintly remembered your incessant moaning and groaning all week long about a paper you had to turn in this weekend” he teases, “figured you’d be here. I did end up texting Jun either way to ask if he’d seen you around just to be sure”

Baekhyun’s cheeks flush, “I did not moan and groan” he protests, “at least not the entire week” he amends. It makes Kyungsoo laugh and Baekhyun just glares at him.

“Fine, you whined then” Kyungsoo relents.

“I hate you”

Kyungsoo slides down his chair and clutches at his chest, mocking hurt at Baekhyun’s words. Sitting up straight, he laughs loudly when Baekhyun rips a piece of paper from his notebook, balls it up and throws it at his face.

The girl sitting a few tables away looks up and shushes them loudly, glaring daggers their way. Kyungsoo bows at her sheepishly and turns to glare at Baekhyun who in turn hides behind his laptop snickering at the flush tinting the tips of Kyungsoo’s ears.

“Finish your paper so we can go home, will you” he grits as he crosses his arms over his chest and sinks down into his seat.

“Okay grumpy”

Baekhyun sips from his coffee and smiles innocently across the way at Kyungsoo. He squints at him grumbling under his breath but says nothing, just merely sits there and watches as Baekhyun works away, typing furiously.

Honestly, Baekhyun feels like he’s quite literally at death’s door.

Between being swamped in last minute assignments, projects and presentations, his final exams are also right around the corner, so he uses any free time he has to get some studying in. He’s hardly getting any sleep if he’s being honest, and if it weren’t for Kyungsoo’s constant nagging, he’d probably also forget to at least eat two meals a day.

Built up exhaustion finally takes a toll on him one fateful Thursday night while he’s in the middle of cramming for a History quiz. He ends up falling asleep in their living room floor, head against their glass coffee table, an assortment of notes scattered beneath him.

That’s how Kyungsoo finds him—awkwardly positioned, dressed in his red flannel pajama pants and favorite (much too small and much too tight) pink sailor moon shirt. It’s a little past ten at night, and Kyungsoo’s heart aches at the sight of his poor exhausted roommate slumped over a pile of notes. He’s been overworking himself lately, and it distresses him slightly that he can’t seem to be able to help him out further.

Not to mention, the boy hardly listens to Kyungsoo anyways, he’s lucky if he gets him to eat at least twice a day, it’s a wonder he hasn’t passed out from exhaustion sooner.

“Baekhyun?” Kyungsoo whispers kneeling next to him, he places a hand on his shoulder and shakes him slightly. Baekhyun however doesn’t budge one bit, instead he sighs and tries to snuggle closer to the table. Kyungsoo bites his lip to keep from laughing. “Baek” he calls out a little louder this time, that seems to have some effect. He stirs in his sleep, whining pitifully. It’s a few seconds before he slowly begins to awake from his slumber.

“Hmm?” he mewls sitting up and frowning, eyes still remaining shut. He stretches his hands over his head, his bones cracking from being stuck in the same position for who knows how long. Kyungsoo tries to ignore the soft silver of skin revealed from Baekhyun’s shirt riding up his tummy.

“How about we give the studying a bit of a break and get you to bed, yeah?” he says instead.

Kyungsoo tries to nudge him and get him to stand, instead Baekhyun sluggishly rubs at his eyes and looks around sleepily. His sleepy gaze finally lands on Kyungsoo and his eyes go wide.

“Oh my god, oh my goddd” Baekhyun wails now looking down at his notes, “I fell asleep”

Kyungsoo tries his hardest not to face palm and settles for sighing.

“Baek, it’s okay. I think you’ve studied enough for now, you even had a dream with the king of Spain the other night, come on” he takes his hand, but Baekhyun shakes his head.

“I just need to get a few more hours in, then I can sleep”

“You’ve been saying that for the past two weeks and a half” Kyungsoo scoffs.

“Soo, please. I can’t—I literally got a C on my last two quizzes, I need to get at least a B if I want to maintain my current grade. I can’t afford to slack off, I can’t—”

Baekhyun’s words die halfway out of his mouth when suddenly Kyungsoo’s own is pressing against his softly, essentially shutting him up.

Kyungsoo’s soft lips mold over Baekhyun’s slightly dry ones. Much too soon, Kyungsoo pulls away (hardly giving Baekhyun any time to respond), mouth agape and eyes a bit wide when he realizes what he’s just done.

“I uh—”

“What—I mean, what was that for?” Baekhyun asks voice cracking at the same time Kyungsoo clears his throat.

“I—you know—well you” Kyungsoo struggles, his neck, face and ears flushing as he grows more and more flustered. “You keep falling asleep on me, and waking up all soft and sleep tousled and making me feel things” Kyungsoo blurts out, “And you’re so stubborn, you drive me insane. I couldn’t help myself”.

Baekhyun looks at him in surprise, mouth forming an o shape having been caught very off guard. It makes Kyungsoo squirm as he grows even impossibly agitated.

“I’m sorry?” Baekhyun questions, not too sure of how he’s supposed to react to that. If he’s being honest, he finds it endearing. Kyungsoo’s hard to fluster, and he’s never one to fall short out of words.

“It’s—it’s not your fault” Kyungsoo says incredulously, “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t mean—well I did, but not like that”

“If it—I mean, I didn’t mind it, if that helps” Baekhyun offers biting down on his bottom lip and Kyungsoo looks up at him with big brown hopeful sparkling eyes a small smile forming on his lips. “I mean, a bit of warning would’ve been nice, but you know” he teases and Kyungsoo groans smothering his face into Baekhyun’s shoulder. “If your intention was to distract me from studying, mission accomplished” Baekhyun sighs a few seconds later.

“I had a lot more intentions” Kyungsoo mumbles, and Baekhyun gasps scandalized, “I mean—of course. That is what I intended. Now will you please get some rest?” he asks.

“Fine, but only if I get a goodnight kiss” Baekhyun bargains, and Kyungsoo can’t even pretend to think about it, easily crowding into his personal space and dragging his lips over his once more.

Baekhyun hums contentedly, thinking that maybe it wasn’t so stupid after all to have hoped after all.

[thegreyreylo]

Just Breathe Chapter 5

RATING: MATURE

Sample: 

We can’t seriously start this off by fighting.

 “No, you are right. We shouldn’t fight.” He spoke, finally meeting my gaze. Surprise must’ve been written all over my face because he clarified, “Yeah, I heard that through the Force bond.”

 “Oh.” What the hell was I supposed to say to that.

 He smirked briefly, and with a trembling bare hand he carefully pulled a single strand of hair from my eyes and tucked it behind my ears.

 “So Scavenger, what did you want to talk through?”

Pushy, wannabe Sith lord, asshole –

 “No, Ben, you aren’t joining me.” This wasn’t a particularly a conversation she wanted to have while sitting alone on the Millennium Falcon. Her heart was broken in so many different ways, and the last thing she wanted to do was break it more. Of course she wanted him to be here, she had flown straight into his arms the moment she saw his future. But they wanted different things for the future of, well, essentially the galaxy.

 Rey, you are absolutely not sitting alone on a planet where you just got attacked –

 But most importantly, he was being an ass at the moment.

 -so you will tell me where the hell you are right now.

 I snapped. “I cannot deal with this right now, ok? I’ve told you no, the answer is no. So stop!” His shock and disdain boiled in to my mind.

 “Rey, I –”, anger flared from within me, it was like a taunt cord being cleanly cut with how fast the force bond snapped shut.

 Huffing, I kicked off my boots and threw myself on to my cot. The silence of the ship stung for a moment. I guess I could have one of the triple bunks if I wanted, or even the one in the lounge, since no one else was on board. General Leia’s conflicted face would forever be burned in to my memory. One of the only admirable women I had met in my life seemed so disappointed in me. She loved her son, but she didn’t trust him. My isolation was my own choice this time after I heard the volley of insults the remains of the Resistance had for him.

 He’s manipulating you.

 He’s on the dark side.

 There is no saving him.

 No one understood that he had a choice in who he was going to be. Ben had been there more for me in the last few days than anyone else had in my life. Chewie always had my back, but even he chose to go with the Resistance. Finn cared for me but it wasn’t enough to protect the both of us from isolation. It was clearly as long as I communicated with him that I needed to be on the outside, for the sake of the Resistance.

 I felt disposable.

 I felt like I was on Jakku.

Where nothing I said or did made a difference, I had expectations to meet and harsh punishments when I didn’t. Even in the Resistance, my choices just put me in to a box full of new expectations and duties to the cause.  Ben and I didn’t have choices, everything was made for us and the most we could do was control the collateral damage. We were both alone because they were told who we were going to be. Even now, being bonded to Kylo Ren essentially painted my future in the eyes of everyone. Oh, Finn had looked at me with caution in his eyes even though he stood next to me. He could’ve said everything in the world to make it feel like nothing had changed, but that caution never left his eyes. I was alone again.

 But I didn’t have to be, Ben was willing to be here for me.

 There was just so many things they needed to figure out. She did not want to rule the galaxy, she just wanted to stop the murders. His whole mentality was heart breaking. Kill the past.

 Sighing, I carefully undressed and scrubbed the bits of makeup off my face. I didn’t need any reminders of what I had lost when I woke up in the morning. Tomorrow I would have to figure out where I was going to stay. Rose offered to send suggestions in the morning for some place centrally located. Tears brewed in my eyes and I just couldn’t handle any more today. I found a place, and lost it just as fast.

   “How dare she think she could-“

 Stopping mid-sentence in case she was somehow listening still. Her guards were clearly up but her agility at closing the bond was surprising.  I clearly had pissed Rey off and I wasn’t going to lie, she pissed me off too. She goes on and on about bloody being there for each other and when I offer to come to her immediate aid she refuses. I wanted to be with this bloody woman and she could care less.

 Pacing around my ship seemed pointless and wasn’t getting rid of my desire to rip things to shreds.

 I just needed to talk to her, so I guess I was at a point where I was just going to have to wait. She clearly wasn’t going to be pushed into seeing me, so I might as well just sit my ass my down and wait for her to come to her senses. Disappointment came over me. Every time I wanted something for Rey it was like I was proposing the worst idea in the world. I was disregarded and it ignited a rage unlike any other.

 Flicking back to the moments before she rhetorically shut a door on me, again, I decided that maybe she didn’t like how commanding I had become. Authority is a natural attitude for me when I’m in a fight. I was fighting for her, but regardless it still came out. Rey was not one to bend to authority, she despised it which is something I fully related too. Maybe I just needed to give her space? Letting things go was not my forte in the slightest but it’s all I could do.

 I could also try apologizing, but I was too exhausted to even think about that. How in the hell would I even do that? What would I even apologize for? Caring?

 The co-pilot chair was in smoldering pieces by the time I calmed my mind.

 I would apologize for pushing and commanding her. That’s all I could manage right now.

 I considered going back to base, but it felt wrong. Even though there were far more things I could destroy, I needed space from the turmoil of the First Order. Briefly, I checked in with General Hux who gave me virtually no update. After another hour of pacing and checking the force bond to no avail, I decided to try to rest. Slouched in my cock pit chair, it was uncomfortable to say the least but at least I would be at the controls in case Rey got back to me.

 Women were bloody complicated.

  I had only been asleep for few hours when I woke up completely startled.

 My instincts flared, feeling like I had an invader on my ship. I was saber-less, but I armed my blaster and carefully cleared each room and the perimeter. It was an all-clear and yet I was disappointed that there was no one there. Actually, that’s wrong. I was disappointed it wasn’t Ben, because my heart wanted and needed him here after everything that had just happened. I wanted him and my pride was getting in the way.

 I took a steady breath and tried to think things through.

 It was almost dawn by the time I settled on what I was going to ask Ben to do. I got to watch the sun rise for the first time over the lush green of a sprawling forest. A wave of peace fell over me, despite being absolutely terrified about what I was about to attempt.

 The tug was clear and strong for once.

 “Ben?”

 Clearly he was asleep, his face void of the constant worry and conflict lines and a light snore rising from him. His hair was a genuine wreck and I had no idea how he slept like that without throwing his back out. I couldn’t help but smile, he looked human for once.

 Crossing the room and kneeling down, I couldn’t help but trace the scar running along his face. Regret struck me hard in the gut, this beautiful man was forever maimed by my own hand and would have to see that jagged line for the rest of his life. At my touch he jolted awake, flying backwards a foot before his eyes adjusted.

 “Ben! I’m sorry, it’s just me. I’m sorry.” I whispered, not having a clue where he was it was probably for the best to remain quiet.

 His eyes dilated for a moment, and all of a sudden his whole body slumped with relaxation.

 “Rey” he breathed.

  This was easily the best way I’d ever been woken up in my life.

 I started apologizing immediately for being an ass earlier, “Rey, I’m sorry that-“

 “I’m sorry-“

 We smiled at each other. Her entire face lit up and practically pounced on me as she tried to touch my face. “You smiled! You smiled for real Ben!”

 I caught her hands and lowered them from my face, I might be completely obsessed with this girl but no one has touched my face… in well a long time. But I couldn’t ask myself to let go of her hands. In fact, I would’ve loved it if she would just climb in to my lap. Her smile didn’t fade at all, nor did the light she exuded. Huffing, “Yes, my face does contort in that shape.”

 With a smirk she squeezed my hands, “Oh thank the Force.”

 “Yeah, yeah.” Rolling my eyes, I was still reeling that she had let the bond open again. I decided if we were going to have another blow up fight, we might as well get to it so we can get it over with. “Rey, I’m sorry for being pushy-“

 “Oh yes, you were absolutely pushy… But I shouldn’t have shut you out either.”

 That was surprising. She didn’t give me a chance to reply before continuing.

 “Ben, I want to physically see you. I’m not sure about the logistics, but we need to meet on a neutral planet. Possibly Ach-to? We have to talk through everything, and that’s probably going to be a mess but I don’t want to be alone-“

 I couldn’t let her continue, “Send me the coordinates and I’ll be there as soon as possible. I’m already in my personal ship.”

 She breathed, relief flooding every square inch of her face. She was beautiful.

 “Are you sure? I mean, aren’t you running the First Order at this point? I don’t know how long I will be alone for, or even how long I’m asking you to stay.” Nervousness crept in to her voice and she began to break eye contact.

 I squeezed her hands, “Irrelevant.”

 A blush crept through her freckles, she nodded and released my hands to cross a room. She rummaged for a minute before asking for several various pieces of communication information from me. A message appeared on my ships dash.

 Coordinates.

 She trusted me enough to give me the coordinates to Ach-to. I didn’t know how to feel.

 “I’ll see you there.” Rey whispered, a small smile on her face as the bond crackled away.

  Being on Ach-too again was unsettling, especially now that Luke was gone.

 I had only been landed for about an hour when I spotted a dark and foreboding ship approaching. Two porgs next to me squawked in fear and fluttered back to their cliff-side nests. Fear, nervousness, anxiety, excitement, longing, everything you could imagine ran like an electric current through me. Don’t get me wrong, I was absolutely still mad at Ben Solo for thinking he could command me to do anything.

 I was still excited to actually see him.

 Taking off, I jogged down the stairs to meet him on the beach. He had landed next to the Millennium Falcon. This was one long ass stair case, so I hadn’t even made it half way down when he carefully disembarked looking on guard as he looked around. The moment he spotted me, he straightened up and swallowed hard.

 He was so damn tall.

 Ben’s stride covered twice the ground as mine, and we met at the end of the stair case. His dark eyes glittered even with the blue and purple circles under them. His hair had been hastily patted in to shape and his tunic was clearly worn for several days. But none of that trumped the look of pure anxiety that crossed his face. He cleared his throat before speaking.

 “Could you have picked a place with a smaller stair case?”

 Relief washed over me and I couldn’t help but smile. “Probably, but it’s quiet here. It’s where the Jedi belong.”

 His eyes dipped for a moment away from me, and he carefully scanned the beach front. “Is that so?” Ben’s voice was controlled, but guarded.

 “That means you belong here.”

 “Does it?”

 We can’t seriously start this off by fighting.

 “No, you are right. We shouldn’t fight.” He spoke, finally meeting my gaze. Surprise must’ve been written all over my face because he clarified, “Yeah, I heard that through the Force bond.”

 “Oh.” What the hell was I supposed to say to that.

 He smirked briefly, and with a trembling bare hand he carefully pulled a single strand of hair from my eyes and tucked it behind my ears.

 “So Scavenger, what did you want to talk through?”

[ohmytheon]

real gods require blood (fma/noragami au, 1)

I’ve got a few ideas where this is going, hinted at in what I’ve written here, but honestly this isn’t as set in stone as my Fate AU. It’s more than likely going to be a series inter-connected fics like my Star Wars AU (I have so many AUs, oh my god), but with a theme. None of the scenes are in chronological order, but go back and forth. Kind of like how Noragami did. Seriously, that anime messed me up real good. I was not expecting that. This is mainly for @the-musical-alchemist and @scarfblogs who got me into Noragami. I know my AUs are weird.

“The Gods aren’t so much worshiped, as they are blamed.”  ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic 

It was the smell of blood that always startled him awake.

Roy’s eyes snapped open. There were no rivers of blood around him, only rain, and so he laid on the stone floor in silence and listened. A chill hung in the air from the storm, but he made no move to pull the blanket around him tighter. Instead, he let it seep into his bones until he was shivering. Still, he didn’t move. The cold washed away the feeling of blood.

“You’re going to get sick,” a tired voice sighed from further inside the temple.

Finally, Roy moved, rolling over onto his other side to face her. “Gods don’t get sick.”

“You can get blighted.”

“Are you going to do something terrible?” Roy asked.

Riza frowned and sat down next to him, folding her legs underneath herself. “Are you going to ask me to?”

“What a terrible thing to assume of me,” Roy replied with a smile as he slowly pushed himself up. He gave her a sideways look  “What kind of god do you think I am?”

“A foolish one,” Riza grumbled under her breath. She turned away from him to look out into the rain and huddled deeper into her coat. He’d given her the heavier one. She was so small. The second she’d come out of her regalia form after he’d first named her and taken her in, he had been shocked. How could a spirit that was able to take such a fierce regalia form be so fragile-looking?

She wasn’t weak though. She was the strongest regalia he had ever had. He treasured her more than he could ever admit out loud and she had never blighted him despite all that he had asked of her. She could have and he didn’t think he would’ve blamed her. The things he’d done before, as a god of calamity… Another god, a better one with a better conscience, would’ve used a Nora.

Instead, he’d used her, burned her with blood, and she had turned into a Blessed Vessel for him.

After that, he could no longer be the same god as before. She wasn’t the only one that had changed, but whereas she found new purpose and direction, he felt entirely lost. As the years passed, his name was slowly forgotten until only a few remained out of his desperation to stay alive. It would have been easy to revive his name – all he had to do was go back to being what he was – but that wasn’t who he was anymore. She had changed him and he was determined to live up to her.

So yes, he was a very foolish god, maybe even a little broken too. Roy held out a hand, letting the rain spatter on his open palm, and looked up to the sky. But one day, they would know his name – all of them, those from the Near and Far Shore – and they would no longer fear it as they once did.

*

It was always the whisper of prayers that brought him back to focus.

Fire sang in his blood. It burned through him, vicious and hot, whenever he worked. The wishes that he fulfilled were very rarely spoken with good intentions. They were born out of hate, rage, grief, confusion, fear. Those were the emotions that made up calamity and they were what he answered to at the end of the day. They were whispers in the dark, words not meant for the light of day, and he knew them all.

Gods like Roy weren’t meant to be revered. They were meant to be feared. It had been a long time since he had known anything but that.

He deserves to die.  He took her… He took my wife. I want them both dead.

Roy stood in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall, while the man sat on the floor with his head in his hands. “Are you certain that’s what you want?”

“I want their hearts torn out of their chest like mine has been!” the man cried out.

He didn’t think the man meant it so literally, but if that was what was asked of him specifically, he would do it. This was easy work. It didn’t take much effort. It wasn’t pleasant and it certainly wasn’t kind, but someone had to answer these wishes, didn’t they? These humans prayed to someone. They prayed to him. What kind of god would he be if he did not answer them?

Sighing, Roy held out a hand and waited patiently until the man dropped the payment in his hand. All it ever took to fulfill a wish were some heartfelt words and a few coins. It turned out that even human lives were cheap. He never counted to make sure he wasn’t shortchanged. Everyone knew what would happen if they crossed him.

He was not a god to wish for – and yet people did.

*

Havoc jumped cheerfully in the air as he whooped. “We did damn good today!”

“We were adequate,” Falman replied.

“Damn good. Six phantoms all charging at once? That’s not adequate.” The sandy-haired regalia leaped over to Fuery, wrapping an arm around the younger man’s neck so that he could rub a knuckle in his hair. Havoc’s grin was almost bright enough to blind someone. “Our boy here got his first bit of action too.”

“I didn’t do much…” Fuery admitted, blush tinging his cheeks.

Havoc blew a raspberry. “Nonsense!”

“Coordinating all of my regalias is an important position,” Roy pointed out as he brushed past them.

Fuery turned even redder but said nothing in return. He was left to the mercy of Havoc and Breda piling on top of him with Falman sighing at the side. Riza followed Roy into the temple, leaving the four other regalias to hang back. It was beautiful outside, a sunny day, even more lovely now that it had been cleansed of phantoms hanging around the city after a vent was accidentally opened.

Roy paused once inside the temple, gazing at the shrines built inside. They were so shiny. Every inch of this place spoke of devotion and care – of being remembered and known. He could breathe in here. After so many years, he had forgotten what it was like to be known. The others didn’t know. They didn’t know of Roy when he was a god that only a handful of people remembered. Riza, on the other hand – she had known him through all of it.

Maybe that was why having a shrine now shamed him so much, even though he’d worked so hard to get it in order to be worthy of her.

“Do I deserve this?” Roy asked.

Riza peered at him. “Sir?”

“Do I deserve this?” Roy repeated. “To be beloved, to be wanted, to be needed.” When he looked down at his hands, he saw the blood that was no longer physically on them. It would always be there though. Blood followed gods of calamity. He would never be fully rid of it. “After all that I did…”

“Nothing will wash away your sins fully,” Riza said. But then she put a hand on his shoulder and he looked back up. A strong part of him wanted to grab her hand and yet he held back. He always did, but just barely. “But as long as you continue on the path you’re on, you will be worthy of this.”

Roy nodded his head and looked back at shrine.

But will I be worthy of you?

*

He was dead and he was dying – and there she was, the most beautiful soul that he had ever come across. She was lost and far from home, but she had nowhere else to go. Uncorrupted souls like her in this world either eventually moved on if they were lucky or were corrupted by phantoms lurking in the dark. It would not be long before she was taken and for the life of him he could not let it happen.

Maybe it was selfishness and desperation on his part because he needed her, but in the years to pass, she would always say that he saved her from certain darkness.

Blood poured from multiple wounds and he struggled to breathe as he stood before her bright soul, a god no one would want yet still needed anyways. But he could not be the god he was without a weapon. As terrifying and powerful as he was, his work on the Near Shore was worthless without a regalia and he was so well-known for his work there.

“You, soul, with nowhere to go and nowhere to return!” Roy called, drawing the appropriate symbol in the air as a phantom roared behind him. “I grant you a place to belong. Mustang is my name. Bearing a name after death, you will remain here; and with this name, I make you my servant. I use my life to make you a Regalia! You are Riza! Come, Hawkeye!”

And that soul, so beautiful and bright, turned into a beam of light, driving the phantom back. Roy threw out his hand as it shot into the air and into his grasp. When he opened his eyes, he nearly gasped. A long black whip, sharp as a tack, that he knew deep down was something so much more. He’d never seen a regalia take such a shape and yet somehow he also knew how to use it.

When the phantom gathered its bearings and leapt to strike, Roy leaped in the air and cracked the whip in the monster’s direction. “Rend!” he ordered. The whip squeezed and the phantom exploded into a ball of light. The regalia was incredible.

Landing on the ground, Roy closed his eyes and raised his face to the clouds. The regalia hung loosely in his hand, asking nothing of him. He could feel it patiently waiting. How unusual. Most Regalias were very talkative at first, confused about what was going on, especially if they were immediately used in battle. He had never been careful with them before. Something told him that he should be different now, but he had always been reckless by nature.

“Riza,” he said without a care and the whip glowed and transformed into a person.

He nearly choked at what he saw.

She was a young woman, a few years younger-looking than him, with wide amber eyes and short blond hair. The innocent expression on her face caught him off guard. She was so small, wrapping her arms around herself to brace against the chill of the night. He wasn’t prepared for her to be wearing a thin dress with no shoes or the way she looked at him expectantly as she bit her lip.

“You…” Roy didn’t know what to say.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” Riza asked.

Roy took a sharp intake of breath, but then nodded his head. She took a deep breath and looked down at the ground, taking in the situation. He didn’t know what to say. Of course she was dead. Regalia were made of human spirits that had died and not passed on yet. Sometimes they did; sometimes they didn’t. Some avoided becoming phantoms, but most didn’t without the help of a god. He did not doubt her strength – he’d felt it firsthand – and he was grateful that she was a regalia and not a phantom.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Roy promised and Riza smiled.

He lied. She didn’t know who he was and for the first time he didn’t either.

*

Roy smirked to himself and turned back to face his shrine so that no one would see. He definitely didn’t want Edward to see the look on his face or the kid would blow a gasket. It was enough to watch him freak out as Roy’s regalias teased him about how much he’d grown in the past years since they’d last seen him.

“He looks so…young,” Riza sighed. “He’s barely aged.”

“Well,” Roy replied carefully, turning back to survey the scene, “he’s a child.” The look Riza gave him would’ve been strong enough to shrivel most gods, but he was a little more used to it, so he shrugged his shoulders. “He’s a god – in a sense. There’s a chance that he might look like this for a long time.”

Though he would never talk about it out loud with the other regalias and especially Edward so close, Edward’s appearance was troubling. Even worse was his brother standing to the side, smiling and laughing. Alphonse was an incredible soul, bright like Riza. He was of good humor, optimistic, and very protective. The fact that he was his own brother’s regalia was very disconcerting, however. Gods didn’t die like humans. Only humans could become regalia and only gods could make regalia. Edward’s and Alphonse’s existences were exceptional.

And the Heavens did not like exceptions.

Riza hummed thoughtfully. “You don’t want to spoil his happiness, do you?”

“His happiness?” Roy scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t care about that. But his hanging around might bring trouble on our doorstep.”

“Since when have you ever worried about trouble?” Riza asked, a slight smile on her face. “As your longest regalia, I know you better than that.”

Roy would’ve scowled if he didn’t know that she would comment on that as well. Of course she knew him better than that. She knew him better than anyone in his entire life – and he had lived a very long time. She had seen him at his worst, his best, his lowest, and highest. Hopefully, she would see him for many centuries to come. He did not want to be like one of those gods that reincarnated all the time. Somehow, he had lived through everything and become something more. Somehow, he’d outlived his old name.

If everyone could forget that he was truly a god of calamity, he could die in peace if he was forgotten, but no, he and Riza would never forget.

“A product of a god and human should not exist,” Roy pointed out.

“And yet you watch after him,” Riza said.

Roy frowned and watched Edward and Alphonse laughing in the courtyard. It did not make him happy or upset. To be honest, he didn’t know what it made him feel. Fear maybe – and he had not felt that for a long time.

*

To wish for the death of a person was no small thing. It only cost a few coins, sure, but very few considered the tax it took on the soul.

Now, to wish for the deaths of many? That was another thing. It still didn’t cost much physically – humans were so cheap, after all – but it was a price a person took to their graves. To Roy, it was nothing. He was a god. At the end of the day, what were humans to him but matter? He had been above them for as long as he could remember. All they had to do was forget him in order for him to die, but petty, cruel, and selfish as they were, humans would always have use of a god like him.

Even Riza didn’t blink. She might’ve been horrified at first, but she had never said anything against what they did. Any other person might’ve used a Nora – would’ve used a Nora – to do what he did, but she was his regalia and to be his was to know him and to know him was to do what he did. It was not pretty or pleasant. It was not kind or beautiful. It was nothing like she was. He’d stained her, but she had never blighted him for it.

He had been called upon to do many a terrible thing, sometimes in the name of revenge, sometimes in the name of greed. In the end, someone usually died. Once Riza had asked him if he enjoyed doing these kinds of jobs, but it was all he had ever known. He didn’t know how to want for something else.

“I’m a god of calamity,” Roy told her as they stood over a dead body. “I’m not meant to bring peace.”

Riza bent down to examine the body, the very one in which she had killed while as a regalia. “But this man killed the daughter of the woman who wished for you and got away with it. Did you not bring the mother peace?”

“Death never brings peace,” Roy said. “It only replaces the rage with emptiness.”

“And what do you feel?” Riza asked, glancing up at him.

Roy clenched his jaw. He’d never been asked such a thing. No one had ever asked him how he felt after fulfilling a wish. Many gods were able to fulfill light and wonderful prayers, but there were gods like him that were left to do the dirty work. Someone had to. No one talked about it, of course, and the other gods scorned them for it. The gods of fortune were so revered and so many more and the rest like him were expected to work and destroy and be hated and be content with it.

He didn’t know how he felt. It had never occurred to him that he might have that right.

[onesandzcros]

some kind of trouble

Astoria wasn’t accustomed to realising that she was in trouble because of another person. But when she’d actually given the damn negotiator for the heist her phone number, she’d known she was immediately in over her head. She hadn’t expected to be intrigued. She hadn’t been prepared for the lovely smile or the charm that didn’t even appear to be on purpose, it was just how the man was. And inconveniently, in between watching the cameras as the Mint and wrangling with what was very much the other side of his personality? Astoria was equally charmed by their exchanged text messages, a mixture of flirting and intelligence that kept making her smile like an idiot.

The agreement was to contact Daphne at the Mint at designated intervals. She broke that agreement only to keep those inside the Mint informed of new developments via Paris. But it wasn’t her heist leader that she needed at. Astoria needed to talk to Daphne, not Paris, not the version that was keeping the team coordinated and on task while also handling the line of communication between them and the Professor.

The line rang out only twice, and Daphne’s confused glance up at the cameras and the rapid grab for the receiver indicated that she thought something was wrong. Astoria didn’t greet her, as such, was quick to reassure her, “Nothing wrong, Daphne, that’s not why I’m calling.” On the cameras, she watched as her sister’s posture relaxed, blonde hair pulled back from her face, slightly wavy at the ends in contrast to Astoria’s own darker hair. “You’re an ass, you made me think something was up already. What’s going on?”

Astoria flicked a glance to the other camera views sprawled out across her screen set-up. Everything appeared to be as it should be. “I have an issue,” she said softly, despite the fact that they wouldn’t be overheard. “I need you to be my sister for a few seconds. Can you do that, or is it going to mess up your mindset?” Her tone was very different to the cool self-possession that she applied when she was in Professor mode, and she knew that Daphne would be able to tell the difference. The way that her sister moved then, leaning back in her chair as though settling in was very familiar. It was the way that they sat on a couch or in two chairs opposite one another, and there was a comfort in seeing it unfold even without them being face to face.

“I can do that,” came the voice into the headset, and Astoria folded her hands in front of her, leaned on them, deliberating how to approach this. “I have a different sort of problem on my hands. One that I didn’t expect to be dealing with.” Sensing the impatience that came along with the fact that Daphne wasn’t used to her circling around a point, Astoria decided to just come out with it. “I met someone.”

She observed the quizzical expression on Daphne’s face as she tucked the receiver between her chin and her shoulder, reached up and undid her ponytail only to redo it more tidily. “What do you mean, exactly? You do have to venture out of the hangar now and then, I know that much.” When Astoria cleared her throat a little, she watched as her sister suddenly sat up straighter. “Or…do you mean you met someone?” The slight emphasis was enough to make clear the difference in what Daphne meant, as well as they knew one another.

“I mean I met someone.” The admission felt like getting rid of a weight, almost, because Astoria hadn’t known how to think her way through it alone.

The exasperation in Daphne’s voice was nothing short of annoyed. “Of all the times in the past several years, or months for that matter, you pick now for this to happen? Are you being serious right now?”

Astoria pressed her fingertips against her temples, averted her gaze from the cameras briefly, because Daphne was levelling a truly impressive glare in that direction. “I didn’t do it on purpose, it just happened.”

She heard her older sister sigh. “I’ve never known you to do anything like that on purpose, mainly because I’ve never known you bother mentioning someone unless it was actually of significance.” There was a contemplative note to those words that seemed to drown out the earlier hint of irritation, unmistakable as it had been. “Man or woman?”

“Man. I think I might really have a problem here, Daphne. I don’t know what to do.” And if Astoria sounded conflicted, it was because she was. “He’s smart, and funny, and he’s so kind. I could spend hours just sitting with him.”

Daphne’s reaction, a muffled laugh, wasn’t the most helpful, but at least it was better than her sister snapping at her. “Honestly, listen to you. This guy’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t he? Tell me he’s hot at least, for the love of God. It wouldn’t hurt you to get some, even if your pining is a little pathetic.”

“It’s not funny!” Despite the protest, Astoria found herself trying not to smile at the evident amusement in her sister’s voice. “I called you for advice and so far, you’re crap at it. Thanks for that.”

The eye-roll that followed was all too clear. “Astoria, come on, you didn’t call me for advice on how to get yourself out of the situation. You called me for me to tell you that your timing is terrible and remind you to do your job while you’re busy flirting it up.”

Astoria’s mouth opened and nothing came out.

“Yes, that’s about what I thought,” Daphne said, and if the words had been spoken any more dryly, it would have been because they were having the conversation in the middle of the Sahara Desert at midday. “Look, I love you, but don’t let a rush of happy hormones get in the way of what we’re doing. We’re stuck in here and you’re our lifeline. Don’t lose sight of that or everything we’ve worked for is fucked because you can’t think straight. Head in the game because I’m not going to prison. Got it?”

And that was why she’d called Daphne, because whenever they needed an anchor, they’d been each other’s for a lifetime. Did it sting? Yes, but it was meant to, enough to keep her in focus, like a verbal slap. “Got it. Haven’t stopped being the Professor. I haven’t failed you yet, have I?”

That was when Daphne grinned, full and genuine, and things were somehow alright again. “You never will. You didn’t answer me about him being hot, though.”

Daphne would kill her if she had the faintest idea of who it was. It was a little selfish to need the reminder and then not give full disclosure, but Astoria couldn’t play it that way. “Unfairly handsome,” she admitted with a sigh. “But to be honest it’s everything else about him that I’m failing to handle. You know I’m not impressed by pretty without substance.” Glancing at the time, she sighed. “I’d better go. I’m supposed to be getting sleep and I’m distracting you too.”

“This conversation isn’t over, just on hold. I want to know everything that you aren’t telling me right now.”

No, you really don’t. “We’ll talk when I next check in.”

“Spoilsport.” And that was the moment that Daphne switched back into Paris mindset, all business. “Talk to you in a few hours, Professor.”

“Count on it.”

Astoria hung up the phone, and put her head in her hands. Damn it.

[hystericalcherries]

Deafening Silence, A Deaf!Hiro AU [Part 4/4]

Title: Mute Apparatus

Summary: Silence is its own form of communication.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4

It isn't often that the Hamada brothers fought.

Argue and bicker? Sometimes. A quick disagreement here and a small tussle there? Sure. Exasperated lectures and annoyed quips? Of course. But an uncensored, unadulterated fight? Rarely.

The fact of the matter is Hiro and Tadashi, by definition, get along. Their Aunt Cass has a great number of stress induced complaints- disassembled drones scattered across the living room floor, Mochi and his rocket boots stuck in a tree monthly, grease stains on her favorite pillow, the toilet seat left up for the third time in a week- but never this. The brothers are thick as thieves, sharing living space and secrets alike with concerning ease. Maybe it has something to do with their situation and the loss of their parents; they cling to each other like it is all they have left, as if a single glance away will result in two dwindling into one.

Which leaves Hiro in quite a predicament where he is now, locked away in their room as Tadashi paces outside, calling through the door in a voice mixed with anger, exhaustion, and worry.

“Hiro…” His brother's voice slips through the cracks of the door, threatening to break the younger’s stubborn resolve. “Let me in- we can talk about this…”

But Hiro doesn't want to make amends, doesn't want his anger and frustration to be soothed by the reasonable words his brother will spin. So he takes out his hearing aids, silencing his brother and the temptation to reconcile.

The resulting silence is deafening, so to speak, and Hiro almost stumbles when he yanks them out of his ears. But he quickly regains his balance and angrily throws the tech, watching it hit, with perfect aim, an old engineering book, bent with age and use, before plopping onto the shelf underneath it. Tension is strung high in his muscles as he crosses and uncrosses his arms, pacing a small portion of his room with quick steps; he no longer hears the sounds he speaks aloud, a jumbled mess they likely are.

In a try at expulsion of the coiled fire that twists his insides, the preteen angrily kicks at his bedpost, only to yelp in pain when the wooden frame stands far firmer than his easily bruised flesh.

He sits down on his bed and nurses his battle wound, massaging his foot. The pain lingers though, pulsing every time Hiro applies too much pressure to the area. Eventually he sets it back on the ground, pointedly ignoring the throbbing. For a while he stares at the limb, gaze eventually drifting to the floor boards and the pattern they run across the room.

He bows his head, forehead resting on his knees as he lets out a deep breath. It’s during this moment, where he doesn’t know what to feel, that he notices it. A prickle of skin, goosebumps rising in response. A tingling sensation at the back of his head and neck, unusual in how it calls for action. Hiro looks up and behind him, only to be greeted with the sight of a large, blinking marshmallow standing across the room from him.

Baymax.

The robot lifts an arm and waves in his usual greeting, automatic voice lost somewhere in the space between him and Hiro's ears. The boy blinks owlishly, both surprised and confused at the robot's sudden appearance. There is a minute where Baymax repeats his little wave and Hiro just stares, uncomprehending.

Baymax blinks.

Hiro blinks back.

Then Baymax is shuffling towards the boy, halting just outside of his comfort zone. Hiro angles his head up to look straight into the robot's face, thinking idly to himself that the looming height would be intimidating if not for the uncanny resemblance to a certain Pillsbury Doughboy.

The robot's upper torso lights up, bringing forth two horizontal rows of emojis with a range of expressions and numbers accordingly. A puddy finger points at the screen as the face looks somehow imploringly at Hiro. And when brown eyes flicker blankly between the screen and the robot’s face, the gesture is repeated. The nursebot doesn't move beyond that, but Hiro has the feeling that he is missing something; another point at the screen concretes the idea and Hiro, with years of experience of public schooling and teachers unfamiliar with his situation, feels that a question is being repeated. The boy shakes his head at that discovery, habitually pointing to his ears.

Baymax cocks his oval head.

For reasons that Hiro can’t even begin to understand, this annoys him. He had finally gotten rid of his brother and now his dumb project was going to be taking his place as residential mother hen. Honestly, he just wanted to be alone. Would Hiro ever catch a break?

In an effort in ignoring his problems, the boy slumps to the floor and scoots across the floor until his back hits the wall between his desk and bed. Though it is all for naught because the robot follows him, curvy exterior pushing obnoxiously against his chair, causing it to roll off towards the door, and blocking out a great deal of the light filtering through the window.

<Go away.> he orders, aiming to kick the tubby stomach. <I’m not in the mood.>

There, there. Baymax’s screen displays just where his heel connect with synthetic covering, the letters rising from the bottom. Undeterred by the abuse, a large, four fingered hand pats him on the head. It will be alright.

Hiro jerks back. <You can understand me?>

I am fluent in many languages, including, but not limited to, those that communicate through nonverbal cues. The robot's inflatable form jiggles as he settles on the floor next to Hiro, somehow finding room in the cramped space while still in a position for Hiro to see his screen and the words that appear there. It is one of the first codes to be uploaded into my system. Though I have since added to it, cataloging what I have observed and gathered from my time activated.

<Tadashi…> The boy pauses, fingers poised up and waiting for the next word. <Did Tadashi really do that?>

Yes. He also programmed an alternative for those who do not know how to read or those who do not wish to. Baymax informs him as the screen splits in two, written words still appearing in time with the robot's on one side while the other brings up a well edited video of familiar hands sighing. If you prefer the second method, I am able t-

<No,> he declares, suddenly angry at seeing Tadashi, even if it's only his hands. He doesn't want the video to zoom out and show his brother's infuriatingly sincere face- a high possibility if certain words and distinctions between are to be signed. <The first one.>

Another quirk of the head. I detect irritation and frustration in your tone. What seems to be the problem? Is there any way I can assist?

He crosses his arms and pushes himself further into the corner, jaw tense as he bitterly mutters, <I don’t want to talk about it.>

But Baymax isn’t someone easily deterred. He’s a robot on a mission. Studies have shown that talking to other individuals about you problems helps relieve stress and eases the mind. A list of statistics pops up on the screen, numbers and charts and graphs color coordinated and organized to a fault. Excess stress and anxiety has been proven to cause a deterioration of health and a shortened lifespan. Talking to me would be in your best interest, especially if you do not wish to consult with a person of a more immediate familial relation.

The statistical display go unnoticed by the boy. Instead he turns his head to the side and down, gazing at where the sheets tuck themselves under the mattress and thinking. It goes like this for a few moments and he picks at his lower lip, hesitant.

I have been programmed to be an efficient and insightful listener. Baymax insists, ever patient.

Hiro almost smiles, but stops before it has the chance of fully forming, and visibly deflates, sighing just as he gives in. <Me and Tadashi got into an argument.> He pauses, waiting for a response, but, true to his word, Baymax doesn’t speak. Merely listens. <It’s stupid, honestly. He had promised to take me to the exhibit on hydraulics that being hosted in the city’s science center, like, forever ago, and now he’s flaking out. Says he’s too tired and that we’ll go another time, but we can’t. It’s only for two more weekends and, ugh, it’s always about school with him. School this and school that. I’m tired of hearing of that lame school and he just… he never has time for me anymore.>

He hasn’t signed so much in a long time and his fingers ache in a pleasant way.

<Wish he would just take a day off and, I don’t know, actually hang out with me. I mean, he hangs out with me anyway, but even that is full of school and his nerd friends and-> Here, the boy makes a particular face. <-saving the world.>

With the words finally communicated, Hiro feels almost empty. The fight is gone and he is left discontent with how the day has gone, maybe even a little regretful.

Hiro, the robot starts in that matter-of-fact way, optical lenses fluttering shut in an almost human gesture of ease. It is by my understanding that you are used to a daily routine in which you have unlimited access to your brother and now that this is no longer the case- of which he has other priorities that aren’t centered around you- you feel abandoned.

The boy scoffs. <That’s ridiculous. I can’t feel abandoned when Tadashi is literally right out the door.>

But Baymax carries on as if he hadn’t spoken. This is quite natural. Many younger siblings experience this when those they look up to start to move on and, as stated in many Best-Selling parental guides across the nation, ‘leave the nest.’ But do not be discouraged, because you must know that your brother loves you and would never intentionally cause you any distress. It based on that care for you that my existence is even possible.

Oh.

When put so eloquently like that, Hiro feels the air around him lighten to something more bearable. Suddenly, he is clambering over his companion, elbows and knees sinking into the robot's form, and reaching for something on the lowest shelf to their left. He lowers himself just as quickly and fiddles with whatever is in his hands; when he's done he settles closely against Baymax's warm side, hearing aids nestled snuggly in his ears.

"There is no need for your auditory aids," Baymax says, both vocally and not. "I am completely capable of continuing my care of you without the use of spoken communication."

Hiro looks down, mumbling, "It... It's fine. I don't mind."

Baymax is silent for a moment, watching as the boy traces imaginary designs on his hand, eliciting a sound as dry skin rubs against vinyl. Then, "If that is what puts you at ease, I will acquiesce. Your health and comfort are my main priority."

Hiro smiles, slight gap in his front teeth on proud display. "Thanks Baymax... you know-" He looks up from under his lashes. "-for everything."

"You are my patient," the nursebot explains simply.

A lollipop is pulled out of thin air, appearing magically between inflated fingers, and offered. Hiro perks up, eyes alight with childish delight, immediately snatching the candy and popping it in his mouth. Boy and robot stretch into a companionable silence, far different (in an exceedingly good way) than the lack of noise the removal of his hearing aids provided.

"Well, now we're also friends, okay." Hiro declares to the robot, propping a leg onto the other's and leaning back comfortably as he sucks on the candy. "Which means that now we have to hang out- like, all the time."

“If that is what will make me a better healthcare companion, I see no reason why I cannot fulfill your request.”

“Awesome,” he says, biting into his treat, “then we can-”

“However, I must insist that you reconcile with Tadashi before any thought of recreation activities can be considered.”

Hiro frowns. “Now?”

“It would be best.”

Still, he balks at the idea. Gosh, where would he even begin? Does he apologize? Does he let Tadashi talk first? And, ugh, he couldn’t even remember half of what Baymax had said concerning the actual issue and his diagnosis of it, and that had been only minutes ago. He gnaws on the candy stick and asks, “You’ll come with me?”

Baymax’s shutters close in an imitation of a smile. “Of course.”

And, well, that’s a start.

[ruffsficstuffplace]

And The AWRD Goes To... (Part 13)

“Say, Mother, won’t you tell me that story again?” Diana asked as she stood on the side of her mother’s bed, her beloved teddy bear nestled in her arm.

Bernadette smiled. “That tale you love so dearly? ‘The Wise Woman Beatrix.’”

“The hero who started the Cavendish family!” Diana cried, her eyes growing wide and bright.

“That’s right.” Bernadette smiled. She looked to the tapestry on the wall, depicting Beatrix with a mythical unicorn, the two of them surrounded by flourishing trees and plants. “And one of the greatest figures of the War.”

She read the inscription on it. “Sybilladura Lelladybura. ‘When traditional and modern powers mingle, the gate to an unseen world will open.’”

“Traditional and modern powers…?” Diana asked, looking at the tapestry with her mother.

Bernadette started coughing, her body visibly wracked with pain.

“Mother!” Diana cried, fear in her eyes.

“Diana...” Bernadette said as she put her hand atop her daughter’s own. “I believe that you can be the one to open that gate… you can create a new future for the Cavendish name.”

Diana frowned. “Mother...” she mumbled.

Click.

The double doors of Nick’s office opened, Akko stepped out, looking much more confident and determined than when she went in earlier. “You’re up, Diana!” she said as she passed her by, shooting her a smile and a look with a meaning she couldn’t decipher quite just yet.

Diana decided to ignore her for now, and stepped into Nick’s office, her posture perfect, her movements graceful, and a noticeable chill emanating from her.

“Please, take a seat, Cavendish,” Nick said, gesturing to the couches near the snack bar. “Cocoa?”

“I’d prefer we do this at your desk, Professor Schnee,” Diana said as she took one of the seats in front of it. “The snack bar feels too… informal.”

“Suit yourself, Cavendish,” Nick said as he returned to his desk, closed the doors with the button, then  pressed a different button next to it.

Thoom.

Diana flinched as all of the mountains upon mountains of paperwork flew skyward via controlled explosion, so fast and instantaneous the sheets didn’t even have time to get out of alignment before a basket with a folding caught them, kept in alignment and from falling.

“You know, I always thought your special button for temporarily ridding yourself of paperwork was a joke...” Diana said as she slowly relaxed, brought her feet back to the floor.

“You thought wrong.” Nick said as he settled back in his chair, a custom-made giant that gave off the impression of a leather-upholstered throne with a rotating seat. “So, what’s bugging you, Cavendish?”

Diana sucked in a breath, and let it go slowly. “I’ll be frank: I believe I should have been the leader of my team, instead of Akko.”

“Oh? And why do you think that?”

“Because, Professor Schnee, I am quite certain that I am much more qualified than she in every possible way.

“I will admit, my personal experience with Akko has been extremely limited, and while she has certainly proved that she is a more than capable fighter by herself or coordinating with others—even ones she had only met that day as was the case with myself and Ruby—it is of my opinion that she’s not fit to lead.”

“And why’s that?”

Diana sighed. “You’ve read the report about our disastrous experience during initiation, yes?”

“Yes, yes I have. I’m assuming you’re referring to your little run-in with the gravediggers?”

“An encounter we could have probably avoided if she could have just contained her excitement upon seeing the Shiny Rod,” Diana spat. “The petra gigas would certainly have still been a concern if we had tried to retrieve it, but those subterranean pests and their grave lord would have not gotten tangled up in our business, and the aftermath would not have been nearly as disastrous as it was.”

Nick nodded. “I agree, that was really stupid of Akko, and the situation could have gone better if she had acted more professional. What do you think about how she got you out of your actual situation, with the petra gigas vs the grave lord?”

“You mean Akko’s plan to retrieve the Shiny Rod? Yes, I’ll admit her gamble worked, but still, it was a gamble, and a very stupid one at that.

“I’d accept a calculated risk, but that was a total shot in the dark; regardless of how well it worked, I’m certain we can attribute her success much more to the fact that the Shiny Rod decided to choose her as its new wielder and allow her to use its power, and even more that Weiss just happened to have a semblance and the mastery of it to help us survive the cave-in, let alone Sucy, Constanze, and the others just happening to be in the area, and having the equipment capable of performing that rescue!

“Our survival was all about the stars aligning in our favour!” Diana cried as she threw her hands up. “To somehow attribute all or most of that to any skill of Akko would be absolutely ridiculous, unless I wasn’t aware that her semblance is also extreme luck that happens to happen to occur when she needs it most.”

Nick nodded. “So your argument for Akko being an unfit leader, is that her big, potentially lethal mistake in those caverns was self-inflicted, avoidable misfortune, and how she got you out of that mess was divinely-granted, skill-independent fortune. Does that sound right?”

“Yes, exactly!” Diana said, smiling. “I understand that our very lives always have an element of luck involved—accidents are an inevitability, after all—but that was just relying far too much on it.

“Fortune favours the bold and the prepared, and Akko while fits the first, she doesn’t particularly strike me as the latter—quite the opposite, actually. To trust her with so much responsibility as the leader of our team, much more for the next four years, is just a step short of asking the gods to bless you with as much misfortune as they’re capable of!

“Conversely, I think I am a much better choice. You’ve read my transcripts, my performance, my recommendations from Atlas Combat School, yes? Wouldn’t you agree that I’m an exemplary student, and thus the better choice for leader?”

Nick nodded. “I have, Cavendish, and yes, I agree: you really are the picture of an ace student, someone any teacher would have been proud to have in their class then...”

Diana beamed.

“… But I respectfully disagree in your belief that you’d make the better leader now.”

Diana blinked, before she frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Cavendish, for the purpose of full disclosure: Haven’s decision making process for team leaders is very holistic and thorough, looking past a student’s performance in combat school or the GCD, and into every other aspect of their lives.

“We talk to their families, we talk to their friends, we talk to the people who know them, probably even better than the student does themselves. We look into public records, we look into your public social media histories, we even have the right to look into your permanent records in non-martial schools, and your criminal record, should you have one.

“In short: we try and use every single legal means available to use to learn pretty much everything there is about you, as a person, not just as a student of combat school or someone taking the GCD.

“And frankly, Diana, just from the assessments of your old professors at Atlas alone, you don’t feel fit for leader material in my eyes.”

Diana scowled. “Would full-disclosure happen to include my getting to read what they wrote about me?”

“Generally, no, but it seems your professors knew you well enough to waive their right to confidentiality, in case you wanted to investigate. Would you like me to read you some?”

“Please.”

Nick held out his cybernetic wrist, a two-sided projection appeared before them.

It is with a heavy heart that I write this recommendation letter, for though the inevitability of it has always been on my mind, to whom I would be addressing it to, what institution my beloved student Diana Cavendish wished me to aid her enrolling in, has caught me completely off-guard.

Ask any of her classmates or my colleagues, and you will know that I have made no secret of my preference, my admiration, and indeed, my awe for Cavendish: truly, she is one of the most exceptional, talented, and hard-working students I have ever had the pleasure of teaching, whose input, works, and mere presence I looked forward to every lesson, and whose absence was sorely and easily felt by everyone, even a random student passing by and peeking in through the window.

There is no doubt in my mind that she is destined for greatness, one of the rare individuals in each generation that have the power to completely and utterly change the world as we know it, someone who is already making waves and an enduring legacy name for herself as we speak.

But whereas I have always imagined her as joining the hallowed ranks of Atlas Academy, and making her meteoric rise to the very top of its ranks in no time at all, it seems that her heart is destined for Haven, the alma mater of her mother, and indeed, all of her ancestors save Beatrix, if only because it did not yet exist.

You have my word that Cavendish will be a blessing to your institution, like one of the divine gifts of legend the gods rained down from the heavens, or summoned from the very bottom of the sea. But like those, I leave you with a warning:

When Cavendish has set her sights on something, it would be foolish to attempt to stand in her way, and you would do best to either support her, or simply get out of the way.

Signed,

J. J. Lukov, PhD

P.S. If, for whatever reason, you have not done yourself the favour of reading through her accomplishments, I’ve attached records of what I believe to be Cavendish’s most impressive and inspiring feats.

Nick skipped the hefty attachment, and went through a handful of other recommendation letters.

… I honestly believe she would be much better suited for the rigid and structured life of the Atlesian Military, and fear what is to come to her if she continued on with her plans of joining the highly individualistic, diverse, and rather informal culture of Haven academy.

A third letter.

Cavendish is something of a legend in her classmate’s eyes: the one you partner up with if you wish to pass a class from the very brink of failure, get a guaranteed 100%, at the cost of experiencing the other extreme of ‘leaders from hell,’ the one who demands and will ensure she gets nothing but the best from all of you, at all times.

She’s become so infamous, they’ve even coined a term for it: ‘selling your soul to the Blue Devil.’And indeed, it seems that as soon as the contract is honoured, both parties cease all interactions till the next time the need arises, just like any sort of purely professional business arrangement.

Even her closest friends Hannah England and Barbara Parker seem more like personal assistants or loyal sycophants than companions.

“I could go on all night, but Belladonna’s still waiting outside,” Nick said as he shut off his wrist-projector. “I’m pretty sure you get my justification for not choosing you as the leader, unless I thought wrong?”

Diana sighed, sitting lower in her seat than earlier, her posture less proud and straight. “Yes, yes I have, Professor Schnee… thank you for taking the time to listen to my appeal, and for explaining your reasoning.”

“Any time, and you’re welcome, Cavendish.” Nick said. “Anything else?”

“If you can please disclose it: why Akko…?” Diana asked. “I mean, I get that the optics of you choosing your own granddaughter to lead would have been questionable, to say the least, but in time people will surely see that it was far from a case of nepotism, and simply coincidence that the most qualified candidate was also related to you.”

“Because, Cavendish, Weiss isn’t as fit for the position as you think she is, and even with having seen Akko at her best and many more times at her worst, she is still the best pick to lead you all,” Nick replied. “Again, I could go on and on all night about the details I can disclose, but again, Belladonna.”

Diana nodded. “I understand, Professor Schnee. Excuse me, I will take my leave now,” she said as she began to stand up.

“Actually, before you do, could you do me a huge favour?”

Diana sat back down in her seat. “Depends on what it is, sir.”

Nick opened his drawer, pulled out an old, worn, inelegant looking device, about the size of a fist.

“What is that?” Diana asked.

“First prototype for the portable power core that runs the ventilator they replaced my lungs with,” Nick said as he placed it on his desk.

“After I complained about never being able to actually do much of anything because the old cores drained so fast, your mother made it herself and personally socked it into my chest for its first field test. She always said she wanted me to give it back when I was done with it, but I never did—between studying it to make improvements, and all the other shit that happened shortly after I made the Mk. II, it just always took a backseat, until, well...

“… Look: I know your estate preferred to have it as a private, family-only affair, but I always regret that I never could pay my respects to your mother in-person, before they put her to rest in your family crypt.

“So the next time you’re paying her a visit, could you put it somewhere near her?”

Diana looked at the device with an unreadable expression.

“I’ll definitely understand if you don’t want to,” Nick said. “You’ve got school, it’ll take up space, and unfortunately this thing was a big reason she went when she did...”

Diana took the device from him, gently held it to her chest. “I’m sure my mother would love to have proof that even in death, she continues to do her passion: saving lives,” she said, smiling.

“Heh...” Nick said, the corner of his lips tugging up slightly. “That she would…” He stood up. “Come on, I’ll see you to the door...”

Diana went down the hallways, looking deep in thought as she cradled the prototype power core in her hands, Nick leaned out his door and looked at Blake. “Belladonna, your turn. Sorry for the wait, there was a lot to discuss.”

“It’s fine, sir,” Blake said as she closed her books, and got up from her seat. “And I think you’ll be happy to know I wasn’t planning on taking long.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” Nick asked as she stepped up.

Blake looked up at him, sheepishly grabbed her arm, before she smiled at him and said, “I just want to thank you, sir, for the opportunity you’ve given me. I promise, I won’t let you down.”

Nick chuckled. “In my experience, being chosen to be a leader isn’t something you should be thanking someone for, but you’re welcome.”

“And I think differently, sir,” Blake replied. “Excuse, I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Nick nodded. “You do that. Oh, and Belladonna? Before you go: you read any interesting books lately?”

“Not really sir, no,” Blake replied. “There was a historical fiction about Mantle that looked like it was going to be interesting at the start, but it fizzled out pretty quickly.”

“Shame, that. Till next time, then,” Nick said as he stepped back into his office, closed the door behind him. He got his mug from earlier and refilled it with more hot cocoa, before he returned to his desk, opened one of his drawers, and pulled out a framed, printed picture:

Him, shirtless and in a wheelchair, all the robotic parts of him on full display, smiling as a brand new, portable power core glowed and hummed in his chest, Bernadette beside him looking frazzled, sleepless, but proud and happy.

Nick started tearing up. “You know, Bernie… between the two of us, I always thought Dust Lung would get me first… funny how things actually worked out, right…?

He spent a few minutes crying, sipping his cocoa in between sobs. And then, when his eyes were finally dry, he wiped his eyes, and pressed the second button underneath his desk.

Click. Thoomph.

The mountains of paperwork from earlier were back on his desk once more, a layer of gravity dust keeping them from flying out of their stacks. Nick picked up his pen, found where he had left off earlier, and got back to work.

“Cry all the tears you have, and mourn for as long as you need to, and, bury your dead, and honour all we have lost, and hold close those you still have left...” his father, Herakleides “Herk” Schnee, had said. “… But when your eyes are dry, and you can grieve and wail no more, and the dirt has been patted flat with the grave marker placed, and you have said all you could say, and even your closest loved ones pull away from your grasp…

“… You better be damn sure you’re ready to get back to work, for the work of the living never truly ends.”

[samingtonwilson]

Return - Part 8 - Jim Kirk

Part 7

Summary: series following the events of loot– takes place during events of star trek beyond. in this chapter, you’re reunited with a friend and it feels so good.

Warnings: language, 

A/N: parts of this i love, parts of it i don’t. that’s life, though, i guess

It took more effort than you thought necessary to climb the extensive ladder in Jaylah’s “home” seeing as you were short a healthy arm and plagued with pre-existing exhaustion. But once you made it up to the dingy, dust-covered bridge that resembled models you’d seen in the San Francisco Starfleet Museum, you let yourself fall into a chair facing one of the many consoles.

You swiveled in your seat as Jim came aboard, Scotty walking ahead of him and gesturing to the ship exaggeratedly. You swung your legs over one of the armrests as your back rested against the other, you tipped your head back and shut your eyes.

“This is the USS Franklin, sir. Can you believe it? First Earth ship capable of warp four.”

You snorted to yourself, opening your eyes and mumbling under your breath, “Scotty would find that to be the most interesting factoid.”

“Went missing in the Gagarin Radiation Belt in the early 2160’s.”

Jim hummed, approaching the view screen and helmsmen chairs. “I remember that from the Academy. Captain Balthazar Edison, one of the first heroes of Starfleet. How the hell did his ship end up here?”

You looked at Jaylah as she stepped beside you, righting your head as the strain on your sore neck became too much. “So you live here?”

She glanced at you and nodded. Her arms were crossed over her chest, rumpling the grey shirt she wore. There wasn’t any malice in her eyes, just a general apathy— you found it amusing. “Yes.”

“It’s nice— I like what you've done with the place.”

“— but Jaylah has done a marvelous job of gettin’ the ship’s systems back online,” Scotty finished, gesturing to the tall woman beside you.

When Chekov managed to activate the bridge’s lights, you squinted at the sudden brightness, watching as Jaylah nodded once in appreciation and took the captain’s seat before Jim could plant himself down in it.

She ignored his “pardon me” seamlessly. “Thank you, Montgomery Scotty.”

Jim looked at you and tried not to smile at the amusement brightening your features, walking to you and pausing there.  

“I think I’m in love with her,” you said, smiling up at him as he rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Chekov,” he called, still a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. “Plug in the coordinates. See if you can track the crew’s location from the ship’s sensors.”

Chekov took a seat at one of the larger consoles, nodding. “Aye, Captain.”

Jim nodded back. “Mr. Scott, tour.”

“Yes, the mess hall,” Scotty said, motioning towards the doorway behind you. “Jaylah, if you will.”

Jim nodded at you to follow, laughing silently as you groaned dramatically and rose from your seat. You walked beside him, pushing his shoulder when he stopped to pat the top of the captain’s chair.

“You’re such a child.”

He only laughed in response.

The corridors of the ship were dark. Each wall was a deep grey that didn’t seem to have the overhead lights the Enterprise was almost overly equipped with. The ceilings were lower and a faint damp smell tickled your nose as you followed Scotty and Jaylah, staggering a bit behind Jim to make sure he didn’t accidentally bump into your arm.

The mess hall was small— much, much smaller than that of the Enterprise— and was furnished with one large table surrounded by several chairs, a large black couch, and a few smaller tables covered in metallic tools on the other end.

Tucked into the side, though, only visible as you brushed past Jim, was an old-school motorcycle. It seemed out of place, but nicely so.

You smiled at it, looking around the rest of the room as Jim toyed with a fuzzy-screened console, pulling up a video showing the Franklin crew occupying the space in its hay-day.

“No clue what happened to the crew, huh?” he asked, still staring at the screen with a slight green tint.

Scotty made a noise from deep in his throat. “No, sir. They’d be dead a hundred years by now.”

Jim looked at you and you shrugged, his eyes leaving yours to spot the motorbike you were previously taken by. A sudden flash of recognition crossed his features and he smiled as he walked toward it. “Is that a— That’s a PX70.”

He chuckled, crouching down beside it. “Wow. My dad used to have one of these when he was a kid. My mom said he’d put her on the back of it, drive her nuts.”

Scotty cleared his throat when Jim reached up to touch the faded leather seat. “Sir?”

Jim nodded and stood up, wiped clean of his smile. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “So you’re telling me this thing’s been here this whole time and no one’s ever noticed it?”

When Jaylah and Scotty exchanged a look and beckoned Jim to follow them, you stayed put on the couch. You shook your head when Jim motioned for you to follow.

You unzipped your jacket once the three of them left the dusty commissary and tossed it aside. You placed your injured wrist atop your healthy hand and turned it gently, staring down at the aching appendage with a scowl.

With a sigh, you pulled the sleeve of your dirty red uniform over the makeshift bandage and stood up, tucking your phaser into your boot.  

Before you could vacate the mess hall, you stopped at the screen. Pressing the play button, you watched the cheerful crew members have indistinct conversations and laugh as they shared meals or played games.

Something pinched at the edge of your throat when you thought of their fate, of their intentions to explore the universe only to plummet down on some unknown planet.

Shaking your head at the thought, you walked through the corridor from which you entered, made a pit-stop in a room you found to be a bathroom to wash your face, and headed for the bridge.

You greeted Chekov as you stepped through the door. “Find anything?”

He was smiling brightly— the sight made you smile, too. “I think so. It’s a Starfleet frequency!”

You motioned towards the door with sweeping hand gestures. “Then go! Go tell Jim.”

He left you on the bridge for a few minutes, your hip leant against the console with one of your arms hugging your torso as the team of four walked through the entryway. You smiled at Chekov as he excitedly took the same seat as before, toying with the static-prone console.

“Can you lock onto the signal?” Jim asked, his arms resting on the console from the other end, his voice as tired as his posture.

“Yes, but how do we get to them?”

Scotty raised his hand from beside you. He looked uncertain. “I have an idea, sir. But I’m gonna need your permission.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you need my permission?”

“Because if I mess it up, I don’t want it to be just my fault.”

You frowned and nodded. It seemed reasonable to you.

Minutes later, as you watched Scotty tinker with the grimy and rusted transporter pad several decks below the bridge, you stood beside Jim and cleared your throat. “That was a cute story.”

He hummed in confusion, staring straight ahead at the engineer that would hiss after every pop of electricity.

You watched as said engineer jumped up with a scowl twisting his features, his hands covered in black soot. “About your mom and dad, and that bike.”

Jim glanced at you for a short moment and you felt his eyes run over your profile. He hummed again. “Frank got rid of it as soon as he could. Haven’t seen it since I was a kid. Just got a little excited, I guess.”

“There’s an old car lot on Shellmound Street in Emeryville,” you told him, running your fingers through your finally-combed hair. “It’s over the Bay Bridge and, like, five minutes out of San Francisco. I’ve seen plenty of bikes like that there before— red, black, blue, you name it.”

He stared at you then. Though he’d intended to only glance once more, something kept his eyes there, something prevented him from feigning nonchalance. “You think they’d still have ‘em?”

“Obviously I haven’t been on Earth for a while, but before I left for the artifact, the same ones stood there as from when I was in high school.”

You let yourself meet Jim’s gaze. You regretted it instantly when you saw the way he looked at you, you felt so undeserving of such a gaze, too small to be given so much. You had to clear your throat again. “It’s doubtful they would’ve gotten rid of them so soon.”

“And you just casually hung out at an old car lot in high school?”

“One of my aunt’s exes owns the place. He was one of the better ones— hid my every mistake from her, made sure I was out of sight when her temper acted up, really just protected me whenever he could. Bones reminds me of him sometimes— just, you know, somehow older.”

Jim laughed through his nose at that, still unable to shift his focus back to Scotty.  

“After they ended, I still spent time with his sons and that meant being on the car lot often. It’s where I learned to drive stick.”

“You can drive stick?” he asked, raising his eyebrows with a frown of consideration. “You’ll have to teach me some time.”

“You can’t drive stick?”

“I can, I just think you’d be an awful teacher. Impatient, rude, overly concerned about the car.”

You elbowed his side and snorted. “I’ll have you know I’m a great teacher.”

“Yeah?”

You hummed. “You’d be lucky to learn from me.”

“I’ll pencil it in.” Jim’s smile was small as he finally looked away and gave you a chance to breathe. He cleared his throat. “So you can get me a discount? Since you know the owner.”

“You’re paid enough to not need a discount. And, I mean, I could just steal it for you as a birthday present,” you offered playfully, laughing when he looked at you incredulously. “What are you going to do with a bike on a starship anyway? Don’t you wreak havoc on that poor crew enough?”

He opened his mouth to tell you of his plans to stay on Yorktown, to ground himself indefinitely— but he’d gotten sleep last night.

He was able to sleep on the insect-infested, dirt-covered, twig and leafy ground— and he wasn’t tired. There was a renewed resolve in him, something that propelled him forward rather than keeping him on the carousel he’d likened the last two years to.

He thought it was funny that a good night’s sleep was all it took, but he reconsidered that notion the moment he glanced at you again to follow the slight curve of your smiling lips. It wasn’t the sleep.

“Wait,” he said after a few moments. “How’d you know my birthday’s coming up?”

“Bones,” you shrugged. “He said you aren’t looking forward to it.”

“He tell you why?”

You nodded. “He did, s’why I offered to steal the bike for you— give you a piece of your father before you move on to a chapter of your life he never got to experience in his.”

You looked over at Jim when he remained silent, nodding upwards with a small smile when you caught his gape. “What?”

There was a loud whirring as Scotty flipped a final switch and he made a noise of victory before planting himself in the seat behind the large, almost intimidating console. “We’re all set!”

Jim looked away and nodded. “Right, yes. Great.”

Scotty pressed a few more buttons that let out almost embarrassing beeps and, before you and Jim could react, a burst of white, silver, and blue static flashed about the pad and created the half-Vulcan you could never recall being so happy to see.

He staggered as he climbed off the pad, though. His skin was paler than usual and his uniform was stained.

Despite that, as he neared the three of you, Jim smiled at him. “Good to see you, Spock.”

Spock only nodded, placing his hand below his ribs.

“Commander, are you—”

You weren’t able to get another word out as another flash of static materialized a scowling Leonard in a defensive stance, fists raised before his nose.

He visibly jumped at the change in scenery, placing his hands against his stomach and widening his scowl to a confused one. He stared around him in horrified wonderment.  

“Good to see you in one piece, Doctor,” Scotty said, now standing at the doorway.

“Oh, am I?” he asked, making you snort a laugh. He met Scotty’s amused eyes. “I feel like my innards have been to a barn dance.”

Scotty placed his hand atop Leonard’s shoulder. “Aye, well, these old transporters were only ever used for cargo, but a few modifications seemed to do the trick. I thought it was best to beam you one at a time, though. You know, in case you got spliced.”

Leonard spotted you and Jim, and relief washed over his features— it seemed to sober him up as he took steady steps. “Oh. I couldn’t imagine a worse scenario.”

“Not fooling anyone, Bones,” you sang as he pulled you into a tight hug. 

He eyed you warily when you hissed at the contact between his body and your wrist. But, before he could ask you about it, Jim took his attention from you. “Good to have you back. You all right?”

The doctor waved his hand. “Yeah, I’m fine. He’s hurt— and, by the looks of it, so are you, sweetheart,” he looked at you once more.

You shook your head. “Commander Spock looks like a higher priority.”

“I am functioning adequately, Captain,” Spock said in a strained voice, his hand clutching Jim’s shoulder.

Leonard snorted. “In a pig’s eye you are.”

“Captain, we discovered that the stolen artifact appears to have come from this planet,” Spock added, grunting and teetering forward until the two men flanking him caught his shoulders and tried to hold him up.

“Damn it, Spock. Are there any medical supplies on this thing?”

Jaylah nodded and asked the trio to follow her as she rushed from the room down another dark corridor.

With a half nod, Leonard beckoned you to follow them and smirked a little at your protesting squeak and subsequent defeated sigh when he told you he could only sit in peace after checking you over.

When you entered the mess hall, Jim was speaking to Spock softly as the latter was laying on the couch and Leonard was handed a bag of medical supplies.

You traced the deep green blood stain darkening Spock’s blue uniform and chewed on your bottom lip as Leonard emptied the bag of supplies, toying with what looked like an ancient tricorder.

“Let’s get you patched up first, okay?” Jim told Spock, kneeling beside the couch and using as gentle of a tone as possible.

“No, Captain,” Spock pushed. “You must focus your efforts on helping the crew.”

“Well, that’s why I need you around, Spock.”

The glances Leonard and Spock exchanged didn’t go unnoticed by you.

Your eyebrows came together and you knelt beside Leonard, pretending to dig through the numerous supplies with him. “You want to tell me what that look was about?”

“What look?”

You clicked your tongue and Leonard sighed in resignation. “You let me deal with that arm you’re absolutely terrible at hidin’ and I’ll tell you anythin’ you want. Deal?”

You nodded and sat back against your heels. “Deal.”

Jim turned to look at the two of you questioningly and Leonard shrugged. “These things are from the Dark Ages.”

As he knelt beside Spock and revved up whatever tool he held, he sighed heavily. “I’m pretty sure this is a protoplaser. Should stop the internal hemorrhaging— ‘least that’s my hope.”

Spock, amidst his heavy breathing and grunts of pain, remarked, “‘The miserable have no other medicine but only hope.’”

As you snorted, Leonard replied dryly, “Death’s door and he’s quotin’ Shakespeare.”

The handheld machine whirred as Leonard ran it over Spock’s injury site, Spock’s torso not ceasing in its subtle writhing.

It was minutes before Leonard was satisfied with his work, bandaging Spock’s torso with what was available and sighing once more. He turned to Scotty. “You got any spare clothes? He’s bled right through these.”

Scotty nodded. “Aye, there are spare uniforms on board.”

“Jim, take him and help him— I don’t want him movin’ too much. I’ll see what I can do about (Y/N)’s arm.”

Jim nodded and assisted Spock off the couch, hobbling alongside him as they exited the mess hall with Scotty and Jaylah on their heels.

“Hop on, sugar.”

Complying easily, you sat on the couch and leant forward a bit to place your elbows atop your knees. You held your wrapped arm to Leonard and tried miserably to hide winces as he unbound the filthy yellow fabric. “Talk to me.”

“‘Bout what?”

“We had a deal and this—” you let out a loud hiss as your wrist shifted. “This hurts a lot. Distract me with gossip.”

“Spock’s thinkin’ about leavin’ Starfleet.”

You blinked, nearly choking on your breath. “I’m sorry, he’s what?”

Leonard looked up at you and snorted. “Yeah, s’why he and Uhura ended. He wants to help build and populate New Vulcan.”

“Populate.” You gasped a laugh. “Spock wants to get it in with a Vulcan?”

“Uhura’s frustrations make sense now, don’t they?” he asked, scowling at your wrist. “Darlin’, what the fuck happened?”

“You know the man I was deathly afraid of? The one I was supposed to steal the artifact for?” When Leonard nodded, you couldn’t help the rueful smile on your lips. “Yeah, he led the attack on the Enterprise and he might harbor some resentment.”

“Some?” he scoffed. “Speakin’ of that nuisance artifact, where’s it now?”

“Jim hid it on one of the shuttles.”

Leonard looked up at you to gauge your expression. When he determined that you were serious, he sighed. “So we’re fucked, ain't we?”

PART 9

tagging (tell me if you’d like to be added or removed):  @outside-the-government@daughterofthebrowncoats @multifandom-slytherin @buckyy3s @cinema212 @caaptain @dani-fae  @wonders-of-the-enterprise @imaginesofdreams @the-witching-hours12-3 @kaitymccoy123 @anyakinamidala @vevsee @afluffykiwi @curiositywillbethedeathofme @arielsimaginess @captain-what-is-going-on@micheladakenzo @avengers-earths-mightiest-heroes @eufeme @buriedinfandomsandfeels@ididntmeantobutiaccidentally @avoidthoseeyes @emmkolenn @heartofdixie14 @thnk-you-fr-th-venom @captainveromendes @wickedsingularity @vadersdaycare @samaxraph99

[buckywintersoldierbarnes2017]

An Unexpected Reunion.

Request from @purplekitten30​: I'd like to request a Bucky x sister fic if it's not too much trouble. Him and the team raid a hydra base and they find a teenage girl in a cryo tank in a hidden basement room. Bucky remembers her and gets emotional cause they were so close growing up. Once she wakes up they share a moment and he shows her around and he's so happy to have his baby sister back.

Note: Hope you enjoy this! <3

Bucky Barnes x Sister!Reader

Words: 2,373

Warnings: Violence and swearing.

Disclaimer: None of the GIFs used are mine. All credit goes to their creators <3

Yet another HYDRA base had been located and the team had been called upon to incapacitate it and gain all knowledge from the systems that lay inside of it. The mood in the meeting room was a sombre one; although they all wanted to eradicate HYDRA from existence but it was proving rather difficult to do so. Each one of them had been affected by the organisation; more so Bucky and Steve and they didn’t want anyone else to suffer.

“The goddamn bastards just keep spawning! Where are they coming from?!”

Bucky’s temper was the first to flare up as he slammed a metal fist down onto the table. A dark look enveloped his eyes as he did.

“There are reports that all those people who have gone missing over the past couple of years have had their minds infiltrated – filled with the HYDRA vision. They essentially have their pick of any innocent civilian wandering the streets.” Agent Hill’s voice mirrored the feelings of the team sat around her but despite the anger she also felt she kept it reeled in so that she was able to relay the information she needed to. “This base is known to be running underneath the guise of a homeless shelter. People have been seen entering the building but never leaving.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched tightly before Steve placed a hand onto his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him.

“The longer we leave this the less chance we have of apprehending the main culprit behind this. We get him and then we may just stand a chance at bringing them down for good.” As usual Steve’s words were all the team needed to rid themselves of the anger they felt and motivate themselves to the mission ahead. Even Bucky himself unclenched his fist as he prepared himself. “Send us the coordinates of its location when we are ready to go in the Quinjet.”

“Good luck everyone. We will have your backs as much as we can.”

                                        * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The team had prepared themselves for an onslaught of HYDRA agents but as Steve kicked the front door of their guise down and the others fanned out into the room there wasn’t a single soul in sight. Natasha searched every corner of the place, pistol loaded and ready to fire in her hands, but frowned when she didn’t see even the smallest trace of anyone who may have been here.

“Agent Hill there’s no one here. I can only assume that they were tipped off somehow about our arrival.” There was no answer on the intercom system. “Maria are you there?”

Bucky, Steve and Clint all looked in her direction, awaiting anything that might come through, but with a small shake of her head they knew they weren’t going to get anything.

“We’re not leaving. Even if they have all gone there wouldn’t have been enough time to remove everything out of here.”

Bucky’s deep voice cut through the silence that had enveloped the team as his eyes searched the floor. This had been a front, an innocent looking building to hide whatever horrors they were up to, which meant that there must have been a door or a hatch somewhere. It was the matter of a few minutes before his sharp blue eyes spotted something.

His metal arm rose up well above his head before he balled up his fist and sent it slamming down into the hatch causing the thing to implode into the tunnel that had now been discovered. With a satisfied smirk edging its way onto his lips he jumped straight down without checking to see if anyone else was following him. His determination to take HYDRA down outweighed any logical thought in regards to having back up with him.

The tunnel system was complex, had been modified to confuse any trespassers, but the way the super soldier navigated them it was almost like he had been here before. Somewhere deep in the recesses of his broken mind there was a faded memory of this very place and so in no time at all he found himself entering the main operation room.

Four heavily built men were currently walking around, rifles hanging by their sides, and unlike the others who would have devised a plan on how to taken them down he went straight in. He did love a good fight. Out of instinct the men fired the second they saw Bucky’s form appearing from the shadows of the room, but their mistake was that they were firing aimlessly, there was no effort put into their actions at all so he easily dodged each bullet that careered towards him.

“Is that all you got?”

Walking up the first man Bucky’s metal hand gripped around the muzzle of his weapon before bending it so out of shape the weapon had now become pretty redundant. He flipped the deformed weapon up to hit the guy in the face hard enough to render him unconscious and then he swiftly turned his attention to the other three who, although they were still shooting, were also backing away from him. He dropped to the ground and swung his leg out underneath two of the men who were stood side by side and laughed as they fell on their arses.

Their heads collided with one another’s which saved him a job given that it knocked them both out. It was such an amusing sight to him that he didn’t notice the guy coming up behind him at all. A large arm wrapped itself around his neck and began to constrict his airways but his advantage over the soldier didn’t last long when an arrow whizzed past and embedded itself into his neck. The guy put up a good fight, trying to succeed in incapacitating Bucky but eventually he succumbed to his injury and fell to the floor.

“About time guys! Where were you? I did most of the work here!”

Steve gave his friend a disapproving glare before signalling for Natasha to start looking into the systems.

“We need as much information as possible Nat. See what you can find.”

Now that the HYDRA men had been dealt with Bucky now searched the vast space they were stood in. There were tanks everywhere in this place, old cryo ones that brought some rather unsettling memories back to him, luckily these ones seemed to be empty. Well….aside from one. Right at the end was one with a light still radiating from inside of it.

“Steve over here.”

Calling his friend over he peered inside the frosted glass for a closer inspection of who lay inside, never expecting it to be anyone he would recognise, but the second his eyes fell upon the sleeping figure his whole face just dropped. It was a young girl, one he had seen so many times in his memories, but he had thought her dead. She had gone missing and was never found so the authorities couldn’t do anything but to declare her dead.

“[y/n]…..”

Panic set in now. For the first time in a very long time he was actually feeling a mix of uncontrollable emotions as he immediately went about trying to open the tank. The seal itself was frozen shut but he repeatedly pulled at the outer handle with all the strength he could muster.

“Bucky what’s going on?”

Having heard his friend call him over Steve was now stood there with a confused look all over his face. He knew his friend had a tendency to be a little strange every now and then but this was something else entirely.

“It’s [y/n]. She-She’s not dead! They had her the whole time the bastards!”

“[y/n]?”

The two soldiers had been friends their whole lives so you were just as much family to Steve as you were Bucky so without another thought he threw his shield over at the controls. As it slammed into them the whole console erupted with sparks as it sliced through all the wires running inside of it. The door to the tank swung open, almost taking Bucky with it, and once the open air began to fill it the process of the individual waking up began.

                                        * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It took hours for the process to complete and although Natasha and Clint had left to hand over the information they had gathered both Bucky and Steve stayed near the cryo tank to make sure that someone was here for you. His little sister was finally coming back into his life and he was ecstatic, nervous but excited at the same time. You weren’t going to know anything of the world you woke up in so he was going to have to protect you He may have failed you all those years ago but he wouldn’t now.

He had been thinking about the time you had sat him down and forced him to help plait the hair of your dolls. It soon became apparent that hairdressing was not his forte at all, a fact that was confirmed by the hysterical laughing that came from his younger sibling. The dolls would have been better off with no hair at all then the attempts at a plait he had given them.

“I’ve got my work cut out with you Buck haven’t I?”

Despite your young age you had always spoken as though you were slightly older and as you took the dolls from in front of him you started to correct the mess he had created. His eyes watched your hands the whole time, taking in each move you made with each section of hair, and he made a mental note of it so that next time he needed to play hairdresser to your dolls he would be a little more prepared.

“I’m afraid you do [y/n]. Can’t say dolls were really my thing before you came along.”

An innocent giggle left your lips as you shook your head and playfully dug your elbow into his arm.

“I guess I will just have to change that then.”

A smile etched itself onto his face as him and Steve continued to sit there in a comfortable silence as they remembered the happy times they had spent with you. Bucky had a lot of happy memories with you as you grew older but this particular one always stood out in his mind.

“You can’t tell Bucky. Please Steve!”

There was a desperation in your eyes as the boy you had just been kissing scarpered. Steve was hardly the most intimidating guy to look at but everyone knew that he could be just as protective as your older brother, last thing any boy in this neighbourhood needed was grief from someone who was training to be in the military.

“[y/n] you do realise that I could just as easily kick the little creep’s arse right?”

“I’m sure you could but the difference between you and my brother is that he would probably land him in the hospital.”

It was true, there was no denying that fact about Bucky, but you were practically a sister to the blonde and he didn’t want you getting your heart broken. He took hold of your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours protectively, before helping you down from the picnic table you had been sitting on top of.

“I promise I won’t tell Bucky if you promise to pick a better guy than that deadbeat.”

“Deal. Thanks Steve.”

Steve didn’t have time to react to the memory that had just come to his mind as a loud gasp for air shook the two of them out of the daze they had been in.

The need for oxygen that hit you as soon as you woke up was like nothing you had ever experienced before. It was so great that your panic increased when you thought that you wouldn’t be able to draw enough in but then someone approached you, your blurred vision couldn’t make out who it was but when you felt a hand cradling your cheek you knew instantly. There had only ever been one person in your life that had managed to calm you down with such a simple gesture.

“B-Buck is that you?”

“Yeah it’s me sweetheart. I have Steve here with me too.”

“Steve?” Your face dropped at that moment. “Oh no. What have I done wrong this time?”

The two men laughed out loud enough for it to echo around the whole room as Steve stepped up to you. In a reflection of the memory he’d just watched play out in his mind he took hold of your hand and helped you out of the tank that had been your prison for so many years.

“You haven’t done anything wrong. Well aside from worrying the hell out of us when you went missing you haven’t anyway.”

It was Steve’s voice, that much you knew, but the hand you felt wrapped around your own wasn’t the same. It was….bigger, stronger even.

“Wow. Steve have you been going to the gym or something?”

Once you were out of the tank Bucky wrapped you up into an embrace, literally sweeping you off your feet, and squeezed you so tight you were convinced you would lose the very air you had just fought to get into your lungs.

“I have missed you so much [y/n].”

“I’ve missed you too Buck…..and mum and dad too….”

His grip on you loosened at your words. He didn’t let go completely but the excitement had certainly dissipated from him and now your vision was slowly beginning to correct itself you could begin to see a frown upon his face.

“What’s wrong? Has something happened to them?”

“Let’s just get out of here yeah? This place gives me the creeps. There’s a lot you need to be caught up on.”

It wasn’t going to be easy, for any of you, but as Bucky took one of your hands and Steve took the other you were just thankful to have them back…..as they were to have you in their lives again.