#BUT yeah I realized that I’m feeling pretty burnt out and although I LOVE drawing dbz fanart (oc or otherwise)

[april-doodles]

I come bearing original art/ocs

(Aka I will be posting more original stuff soon, be warned lol)

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Bestfriend (College!Childe x College!Reader) PART 1

note: hello! i'm going to be making an entire college au series for the genshin characters ehe. this is a pretty lengthy one so i had to cut it into two parts. i hope you enjoy!

word count: 4.4k

"Why can't I get this shit to work?!"

You checked the clock.

3:28 AM.

Great. You had a half-seven morning class with professor Cyrus, and yet, here you were. Baking cookies at 3:28 AM. Although, baking wasn't really the appropriate term for it. Maybe... burning was a better fit.

You weren't a culinary arts major; Far from it, actually. You were in a college course that needed immense analytical and critical thinking skills: Accounting. You loved your course. You were always amazed by how numbers can always add up properly if you analyzed all the transactions properly beforehand. It also gave you more patience to thoroughly understand each problem presented to you so that you'd end up with the right answer in the end.

Which is why you were so dumbfounded when your cookies looked like pieces of charcoal the moment you took them out of the oven.

You followed the recipe, didn't you? Why don't your baked goodies look like those gorgeous gooey chocolate chip cookies on the website?

That was the... fourth batch of cookies you made that night. Frustrated, you carelessly threw the still-hot baking sheet in the sink. You didn't even mind that there were crumbs and burnt cookie residue in your damp sink. Like, there were burnt cookies on your counter, on your dining table, and even on your stovetop. Why be bothered about the sink, right? You could clean it up in the morning, anyway.

"Why am I even doing this?" You sighed, eyeing how there was a bit of black smoke coming out of your oven. You opened a window and fanned it out to prevent the smoke detector from going off. You didn't need more nuances adding to your already dwindling patience.

Taking in the sight of the flour, sugar, and egg-coated workstation you had, you realized that baking just wasn't your forte. If only your boyfriend was interested in receiving his complete financial statements for the year, then maybe you'd have an easier time in thinking of a present for his birthday.

You looked at the calendar.

July 20th.

It was the day of Childe's birthday.

He informed you yesterday that his friends had invited him to go to a party the night of the 20th to celebrate his birthday, and you politely declined his offer for you to be his plus one. Of course, he was disappointed. You could notice by how his cerulean eyes drooped to the floor and how his thin, pink lips pushed themselves into a pout.

"But... You have to be there, _____." He whined, taking your hands in his.

"I know, Childe. But you know that I have to review my presentation for professor An's class. It's going to make or break my term grade." You were disappointed. You wanted to spend the entire day with Childe, maybe cuddled up in bed, eating hot pizza and watching Netflix. However, you knew how much he loved partying and hanging out with his friends- Kaeya, was it? and the other boys in their fraternity. You disapproved of his frat-boy party-going lifestyle, but you didn't want to impose, so you just kept it to yourself.

"But it's my birthday," He reasoned, voice laced with sadness.

"I know, darling. I know. We can still spend the entire afternoon together before you head out to party with your friends... If you want. You're free for the entire day, right?" Your voice faltered a bit, unsure of whether he'd accept your proposal or not.

"Mhm! I'd be more than happy to spend the whole afternoon tomorrow with you, babe. We can hit the amusement park, or maybe watch a movie, or maybe have a picnic, or..."

As Childe continued to ramble on about all the possible plans you could do tomorrow, you couldn't help but smile at him. How his demeanor changed, and how he could never seem to hold a grudge against you even if he was upset. He spoiled you so much and you wanted to let him know that you appreciate him as much as he loves you.

And... Here you were.

You didn't expect baking to be so hard. You thought that following a simple recipe would lead to a great outcome the first time around.

Look how that turned out for you. Your tokens of appreciation for Childe were there. In the sink, on the counter, on the dining table, and on the stovetop. All burnt and inedible.

"Fuck this baking thing, I'll just get Zhongli to help me before lunch." You muttered, taking off your apron and retreating to your couch. You didn't want to sleep in your bed because your clothes were still messy, but you were too tired to clean up (too pissed to even care, to be honest).

And so, you flopped on the couch and set an alarm for 6:00 AM before you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of burnt baking pans and noisy smoke detectors.

-

The annoying sound of your alarm rang in your ears like a never-ending mockery of how your life is going. Why do morning classes exist? Why do alarms exist?

You groggily rubbed your eyes and rolled off the couch, landing on the carpet with a soft "thud". You blindly felt around the coffee table to look for your phone. Upon feeling the silicone texture of your case, you pulled it towards your chest and squinted your eyes as the bright display of the lock screen glared against your eyeballs.

You opened your phone by using the passcode (0720, go ahead and guess what that means) and tapped on the green message icon to open your texts. You then quickly typed out a message for a certain history major.

[ Hey, Zhongli, mind if you help me out before lunch later so I could bake some cookies for Childe? ]

Sent 6:04 AM.

You looked up at the ceiling and waited for a while, already planning out your itinerary for the day. The ding! of your phone was heard, waking you more than you already were.

[ I don't see why not. I have a vacant period right before lunch. I'm off at 9:00 and I'm vacant until noon. Are you free then? ]

Received 6:06 AM.

You couldn't help but grin. Zhongli was so kind. He was Childe's friend since high school, and although you found him somehow... creepy because of the knowledge he possesses (Seriously, was his brain implanted with a computer chip or something?), you still considered him a good friend.

[ Thank you so much! Yeah, I only have one class today anyway. I'll meet you in front of the main building by 9:00. ]

Sent 6:08 AM.

You got up from the carpet and stretched for a bit, wincing when the small burn on your arm stung. You had a few cuts and burns on your hands, fingers, and arms because of how clumsy you were in the kitchen, but it was fine. Who doesn't fuck up from time-to-time

You headed to the kitchen to clean up. You dumped all the burnt biscuits into a large garbage bag, wiped the counters, and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Most of the mess was already gone and disposed of, and you whispered to yourself that you could probably deep-clean later that evening after reviewing your presentation.

The ding! of your phone brought your attention back, and you smiled at Zhongli's response.

[ I'll see you then, _____. I appreciate you doing all this for Childe. ]

Received 6:15 AM.

You quickly made your way to your bedroom and grabbed different pieces to throw together a decent outfit. You assumed that Childe wouldn't let you go by the time that your little date would begin, so it's best to be prepared.

You hopped in the shower and did your morning routine, making sure to use your favorite body wash, which happened to be Childe's favorite scent. You dried your hair afterwards and threw on the outfit you prepared earlier. You checked your phone.

6:45 AM.

There weren't any new messages from Childe, so you assumed that he was still asleep. After all, it's his day-off from uni. The lucky bastard got to get one whole day without lectures, and the freest day you had still required you to attend one morning lecture.

"I have to rush to McDonald's if I want to make it in time," You whispered, grabbing your bag and slipping your shoes on before rushing out the door.

You wanted to buy Childe a nice breakfast before heading to your own class. So, you sprinted to the McDonald's just a corner away from your dorm and stood in line. You ordered his favorite breakfast meal: A big breakfast deluxe set with hot chocolate, five-piece nuggets, and a side of apple pie. You also ordered a McGriddle for yourself that you could sneakily bite out of in class.

Childe's apartment was right beside the McDonald's you went to, so it wasn't any trouble reaching where he was. You checked your phone again.

7:10 AM.

Crap. Twenty minutes until your lecture with professor Cyrus. Childe still seemed to be asleep, so you decided to leave his breakfast with the receptionist, Verr Goldet. She already knew who you were because of how often Childe invites you to his apartment.

"I'm really sorry to leave this with you, Verr. But I have to get to class in twenty minutes and I think that Childe is still asleep." You said sheepishly, placing the paper bag on her counter and fiddling with the strap of your bag.

"Oh, _____, you act as if I'm a stranger!" She laughed, taking the paper bag and placing it behind her. "Don't worry, I'll keep it warm for him. Would you like to leave a note?"

"Ah, yes please!" You took a piece of paper and a pen from your bag and scribbled a short message for the ginger.

Happy birthday, Childe! Have a hearty breakfast, I got your favorites. I'll see you later for lunch, okay? I love you! ♡

You tried to make your handwriting as neat as possible, and even added a messy doodle of the man himself. Although, it did look more like a potato than the man you were trying to draw.

"How cute you are." Verr sighed, "It must be nice to feel the wonders of youth."

"Thank you so much, Verr! I really have to get going if I want to get to uni in time."

"You're welcome, _____!"

You bid your farewells and headed out of the apartment's lobby, walking towards the shuttle stop nearest to you. You had at least fifteen minutes before professor Cyrus' class. The shuttle was about ten minutes away from uni, and it would take you a little over five minutes to get to his lecture hall. While waiting for the shuttle, you quickly tapped out a message for your boyfriend.

[ I left something with Verr for you downstairs. You better get it as soon as you wake up ♡ ]

Sent 7:15 AM.

The shuttle arrived as soon as you hit send. You showed your ID to the driver and scrambled for a seat, shoving earbuds in your ears to drown out the rest of the world with a bit of music. Fortunately, the shuttle ride was quicker than usual since there were lesser stops for that day. You gave a light bow to the driver before you rushed out of the shuttle doors and bolted to get to your lecture hall.

It was on the third floor of the left wing of the main building. You were desperately trying to catch your breath as you felt a burn rising in your lungs. You wanted to puke because of how hungry and tired you felt so early in the morning, but you brushed it off.

You sprinted down the hallway to professor Cyrus' lecture hall, seeing that nearly all the seats were occupied. There were still a few vacant seats at the back, but you were glad to see your friend, Xingqiu, waving you over from the middle row.

"Thanks for saving me a seat," You thanked your blue-haired friend, fixing your hair and disheveled clothes. You sat down just in time as professor Cyrus walked into the lecture hall and began setting up his laptop to present.

"No worries. I knew you'd be late. It's Childe's birthday today, no? You've been talking about it all week. I already expected that you'd do something for him this morning." He said, not even batting an eyelash as he carefully opened his laptop in front of him.

"That predictable, huh?" You chuckled, placing your own laptop on the table and taking out the McGriddle you shoved in your bag earlier. Professor Cyrus seemed to be tweaking a few things on his presentation, so you decided to use the spare minutes to eat the sandwich you purchased.

You scarfed it down in a few bites, leaving Xingqiu confused and a bit scared. He thought you were going to choke.

"Didn't you have breakfast before you left your dorm?" He asked, marveling at how you managed to eat the McGriddle in- four, maybe five? bites.

"I mean, I bought this," You said, motioning to the crumpled up wrapper in your hand. "It was getting late since I dropped by Childe's apartment to leave him his breakfast."

"How charming of you, _____." Xingqiu chuckled, slipping on his glasses.

"I wonder if he's awake now," You mumbled, loud enough for Xingqiu to hear, but he didn't react to it.

You opened your phone and saw seven messages from your dorky boyfriend.

[ _____ you're gonna make me cry ]

Sent 7:28 AM.

[ Where are you now? Are you already at uni? ]

Sent 7:29 AM.

[ God, I love you so much, _____! You even got me nuggets!! ]

Sent 7:30 AM.

[ I love you sooo much!! You're so cute it's unreal!! Btw, is this supposed to be me?? Do I really look like that??!! ]

Sent 7:31 AM.

[ I'm so lucky to have you, _____. You really are the sweetest!! ]

Sent 7:31 AM.

[ I'll see you later at noon. I'll pick you up at your dorm, okay? ]

Sent 7:32 AM.

[ You must be in class now. Good luck!! I'm already eating. Thank you so much, darling! I love you!! ♡ ]

Sent 7:34 AM.

You couldn't help but smile at how his aura radiated even through the screen of your phone. You clicked on the notification from Instagram and it opened to a video on Childe's story. It was a boomerang of him making a winky face and then showing his meal neatly placed on his table.

There was a caption beside a heart sticker which read:

What a great way to start my birthday. Thanks to my lovely @_____. I love you so much! ♡

A familiar warmth spread throughout your chest and you couldn't help but smile at how sweet he was. It was amazing, really. Childe's words and actions always had such an effect on you, and it didn't even matter how you were the one who did a romantic gesture for him because you were here all blushy and gushy over his sickeningly sweet messages of affection.

You put your phone away as soon as professor Cyrus soon started his lecture on the different trading policies limited by oversea regulations- or something like that.

The lesson itself was interesting, but you couldn't help to nod off and daydream about your wonderfully dorky boyfriend and his beautiful eyes, his cute button nose, his slim cheeks, his pink lips.

Childe sneezed.

-

As soon as the last bell rang, you quickly gathered your things and shoved them in your bag. You nodded a swift goodbye to Xingqiu before running off to the entrance of the main building.

Zhongli messaged you that his lecture ended earlier than expected, and that he was waiting for you by the entrance already.

You saw the brunette sitting on one of the benches, a thick history book in hand and reading glasses firmly sitting on top of his nose. You noticed a few girls just a couple of feet away from him. They were eyeing him up, probably drinking in the sight of this beautifully constructed creature.

You chuckled. It was common for you to be more aware of people fawning over Childe and Zhongli. They were a couple of incredibly hot males, you knew that. You got used to the sight of other people gawking and eye-fucking your boyfriend and his bestfriend that it was just hilarious and amusing at this point.

"Zhong!" You called, earning the attention of both Zhongli and the group of girls.

"Ah, _____. Glad you're finally here." He closed his book and tucked it away in his satchel (This man owned a satchel) before he stood up to greet you.

"Were you waiting long? Sorry." You said sheepishly.

"No, not at all. I was enthralled by this one chapter on the Ming Dynasty and their more underrated feats. History never fails to amuse me." Zhongli replied, a glint sparkling in his amber eyes.

"Hey, um," You inched yourself closer to him, "Mind if we go on ahead? Some of your fangirls are scaring the hell out of me." From the corner of your eye, you could see how they were drilling holes at your head from staring too hard. You could've sworn one girl was even holding her phone up, as if taking a photo.

"What?" The taller man whipped around to look at the girls and they scurried off upon seeing the intimidating glare in his eyes.

"You and Childe really attract attention everywhere you go, don't you?" You chuckled, walking towards the shuttle station.

"Childe, certainly. He, along with his... fraternity brothers do attract quite the crowd whenever they are together. As for myself, I doubt it. I'm more of the silent-type compared to him, anyway."

"Are you kidding me?" You bit your tongue to hold back the thought.

"I see."

"Those girls look familiar, though." He mentioned.

"Oh? Maybe history majors as well?"

"_____, if they were history majors, I would've at least recognized their faces more clearly. I feel like I've seen them somewhere."

"Ah, my bad. You and your eerily accurate memory." You teased, climbing onto the shuttle and sitting on one of the empty seats.

"It is not eerie, thank you very much." He retorted with a snarky tone, joining you on the seat.

"Of course it isn't. You remember what I said to Childe when we were watching that one movie Rex Lapis: Revenge of the Fallen?"

"Indeed I do. You said, "Rex Lapis would be hot if he was a human, don't you think?" and Childe replied, "Yeah, but I could probably beat him up. I'd be way hotter than him." It was comedy, really. Rex Lapis, although a fictional figure, has far more capabilities than Childe could even dream of."

"Do you... not see the eerie part of that?"

"What? That Childe thinks he can beat up an actual Archon?"

"No... Zhongli, we watched that movie three years ago."

"Your point is?"

"...I can't even remember what I had for lunch yesterday."

"Childe bought you some sushi."

"See what I mean?!"

"That means you have a poor memory, _____." Zhongli laughed at your face curling into a frown. "Anyway, while you were entertaining me with your banter, I recalled why those girls are so familiar."

"Do tell."

"They're part of Childe's posse."

You could've sworn your heart leapt to your throat. You knew that your boyfriend was pretty much sculpted by the Archons themselves, but, really? a fucking posse?

Zhongli noticed how the lump in your throat bobbed, and he decided that it was better to calmly explain how and why he knew about it.

"See, it was during the first year of university. Childe started hanging around Kaeya and his other fraternity brothers. There was this one occasion where Childe was nearly black-out drunk in a bar. If I didn't see on Kaeya's Instagram story, I wouldn't have known," You noticed how Zhongli's face visibly darkened, "These girls were hanging off him like koalas to a strong tree branch. It was unsightly."

"I... see."

"Although he was about to pass out, he pushed them away. Charming, really. He was already crazy about you even during the first year of uni. Even though you weren't together yet, he didn't want to "cheat" on you by entertaining other females." A soft smile made its way to your face upon hearing Zhongli's confession about how your boyfriend felt about you.

"I'm determined to make these cookies a success," You said determinedly.

"Glad to hear it. It seems we're already at your dormitory. You still have enough ingredients for the cookies, right? I assume you failed quite a few times yesterday."

"How did you even know?"

Zhongli once again laughed as you stepped off the shuttle, "Lucky guess."

Unbeknownst to the two of you, three figures were following you the moment you left the campus.

-

"_____ is so sweet! They got my favorite breakfast this morning." Childe mindlessly gushed over his significant other.

Diluc wasn't really one to listen to other people ramble on and on about feelings and love and romance, but it was his friend's birthday. He'd let it slide.

"Bro, that's just gross," Kaeya spat, taking a chug of his beer.

"Oh, shut up, Kaeya. Just because you don't plan on committing to anyone doesn't mean the people around you are obligated to do so as well." Diluc rebutted, without even looking up from his journal.

"You're in college. It's the time when you're supposed to have a shit ton of flings, no commitment. And yet you're here being loyal to _____?" Kaeya glared at Diluc, but the redhead only flipped him off.

"I don't see the problem with that." Childe spoke up, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. It was a gift from you during your first anniversary. You said you made it yourself, and although Childe could purchase all the expensive jewelry and accessories he wanted, this particular bracelet meant more to him than anything.

"The problem is _____'s going to hold you back!" Childe knew that Kaeya was half-drunk and it was still before noon, so he didn't really take his words seriously. "They aren't going to the party later, right?"

"No, unfortunately. They have to review a presentation for professor An's class."

"Hah! Review my ass. If I knew any better, that little toy of yours is just messing around with some other dude."

"Watch yourself." Childe stood up from his seat. He knew that Kaeya disapproved of their relationship because it wasn't really a "frat-boy" thing, but he didn't care about that. He cared about you more than a stupid reputation, and definitely more than a stupid lifestyle of partying, getting high, and getting drunk.

"Back up, softie. _____'s pussyness rubbing of on 'ya?" Kaeya's words were slurred, but Childe knew that there was malicious intent behind them.

"Look, I don't care about what you say about me. Call me a softie? Call me a pussy? I don't really give a shit. But the moment you start shitting on my _____? Don't even consider that I'd just stand around and let them be slandered, you piece of fuck." Childe was a few centimeters taller than Kaeya, and he always used that to his advantage when he wanted Kaeya to understand his point.

"Whatever you fucking say. It's your birthday, I'm not gonna fight with you on your birthday." Kaeya lightly pushed Childe away from him before downing the rest of the beer can in his hand.

"Don't mind him," Diluc spoke, staring into Childe's eyes. "He never thinks straight, whether drunk or sober."

"Yeah, I kinda got the message." The ginger chuckled, watching as Kaeya nearly tripped over his own feet while walking towards the case of beer supposedly for the party tonight.

"I'm glad that you and _____ are still getting along. It's refreshing to see normal people once in a while."

"Well, when you put it that way." Childe could only laugh.

"Where's the tall brunette at? Isn't he always with you?"

"Ah, you mean Zhongli? I don't know, actually. He has a lecture this morning and I wanted to meet him for a light meal before lunch, but he isn't answering my texts."

"I see."

As if on cue, Childe's phone emitted a soft ding!

He typed in his password and the screen faded into a photo of you. You were wearing one of his hoodies (it was way too big on you) and he could've fainted because of how absolutely adorable you looked.

He received a few Instagram DMs from Ellin. Ellin was a member of their posse. Childe would rather refer to them as "fraternity friends", but she insisted otherwise.

[ You're seriously praising _____ for being a good partner? Poor you, dear. ]

Received 9:41 AM.

He frowned.

[ What are you talking about? Mind your business. ]

Sent 9:42 AM.

[ Oh? It's not my business, sure. But you might wanna see this. ]

Received 9:44 AM.

[ 3 Images Attached ]

Received 9:44 AM.

Childe's eyes widened. Ellin sent three photos.

The first one was a photo of you and Zhongli standing awfully close to each other in front of the university's main building.

The second one was of you and Zhongli sitting beside each other in the shuttle.

The last one was... you and Zhongli entering your dormitory building.

"What the..."

He checked his messages to see if either you or Zhongli texted him about the ordeal. However, he was only greeted by messages wishing him a happy birthday from some of his family and friends back in their hometown. No messages from Zhongli, and no new ones from you.

"What the hell?"

He quickly typed out a message for his bestfriend. He didn't jump to conclusions; He trusted both of you, but what was this feeling in his gut? It felt icky, gross, and disgusting.

[ Where are you rn? Answer me. ]

Sent 9:46 AM.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace. Diluc wanted to question him, but the worried look on the ginger's face made him bite his tongue.

Childe wasn't the type of person to jump to conclusions, nor was he the type of person to get upset immediately over trivial things. But upon receiving an irksome reply from the amber-eyed bestfriend he knew and love, his blood began to boil.

[ None of your business. ]

Received 10:05 AM.

[ramblesanddragons]

Under The Moonlight

(For @lemonfodrizzleart based on her wonderful Mystery Farm AU mixed with Monster Falls. I really like Jackie as an OC and I hope I did her justice. A little treat for the spooky season. Normally I believe Gargrunk Stan can’t fly but maybe in this dimension he can!) 

Words: 1967

Warnings: None! Just some fluff with a little bit of feels.

As the sun set low in the October sky Stan was trying his best to put on something nice. The wings were making it a little difficult. Maybe it would be easier to go shirtless than mess up a good flannel, but he wanted to look nice. Jackie was looking forward to this, he wasn’t going to let her down.  

With a little fashion help from Kelvin, Stan was able to get his wings through some neatly cut holes. His tail wiggled into the hole in his jeans after a few tries. Shoes were a no go but at least his hat could rest in-between the horns on his head.  

Getting ready for a date had never been so frustrating.  

It was worth it though when he saw the smile on Jackie’s face. She was floating down the stairs, well more like fluttering. Even with all the draw backs of being a monster Jackie was enjoying being able to fly. The past few days she’d practically flown all over the farm.

Her dress was an off the shoulder affair in a deep black. A bit too fancy for a moonrise picnic but it was probably easier to deal with than anything else because of her own wings. He thin tail poked out of the bottom of the dress. Stan didn’t really care if it was too fancy. She looked incredible.  

“Ready?” She asked.  

Stan motioned to the blanket and basket in his hands and Jackie looped her arm around his stony one. Ford looked up from his notes. He was currently measuring the size of Kevin’s ears. It was only due to the golden fur covering his face that his twin wasn’t blushing up a storm being that close to his crush.  

“You two be careful. I’m not sure how well any of the town folk would react to seeing you.”  

“Look I’ve been planning this date for a week, Ford. No little monster curse is going ta stop us. You shouldn’t let it stop you either.”  

Ford gave Stan a look that said, “Shut the hell up!” while Kelvin was distracted with the bone left over from his steak. Out of all of them he was rolling with this monster thing the best and seemed to embrace his wolfish side. Ford was indulging in riddles more but most of his focus was trying to find a cure. His twin needed to take a break before he burnt himself out. The occasional accidentally catnap wasn’t enough.  

Stan could bother Ford to relax later. For now, he’d let him study Kelvin in peace. Maybe it would get him to finally ask him out. The official couple squeezed out the door with a wave and began to walk out into the orchard.  

If this curse wasn’t lifted by next week, the fall apple festival they held each year would be turning into a costume festival as well. Sure, folks around town were used to the weird but even they had their limits. That was something for next week Stan to worry about. Right now Stan wanted to put all his attention on Jackie.  

Jackie, who was also barefoot, would hop every few feet trying to catch a breeze. When she did, she’d flutter around the tops of the trees for a bit and return with a handful of apples.  

“Honey, tonight’s ‘posed to be about relaxing.”  

“Oh, I know. It’s just annoying to do it in the daytime. Sun hurts my eyes,” she explained. The picked apples were placed in bags and left by the trees. They could pick them up on the walk back.  

“At least you can go out in the sun,” Stan grumbled.  

Jackie gave him a sympathetic peck on the cheek and his grumbling morphed into a happy purring noise.  

“It’s so cute when you do that.”

“Yeah, yeah just don’t tell Ford.”  

She laughed and fluttered around the trees some more before they reached their picnic spot. The hill at the end of the orchard was silhouetted by the harvest moon. Maybe he needed to take Jackie on night dates more often. It was beautiful.  

The two of them settled their blanket down and began to eat. Stan wasn’t as good of a cook as Jackie, but he had made the fanciest sandwiches he could with homemade sides. Every item had a somewhat ridiculous amount of meat in it to satisfy his new carnivore diet, but Jackie didn’t mind.  

The two of them ate and talked and laughed. Stan offered her a blanket when the wind blew but Jackie declined.  

“Apparently demons don’t get cold. It’s nice.”  

“You know you might look like a demon, but I think of you as an angel baby.” Stan said with a smile. The smile faltered as Jackie laughed.

“How long have you been wanting to use that one? Very smooth lover boy,” she teased.  

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I love you no matter what you look like! Yeesh. I try to be sweet.” He rolled his eyes playfully before remembering that no one could tell when he was rolling his eyes anymore. His eyes were currently glowing orange orbs.  

Jackie’s eyes had a reddish cat in the dark like gleam to them. They were staring deeply at him. “I appreciate. At first, I was a bit weirded out by being turned into a succubus of all things, but you haven’t made me feel weird or different. I appreciate it.”  

“Of course. You’re amazing no matter what you look like.” Stan wrapped a stony arm around Jackie, and they sat and watched the stars for a few minutes.  

“Hey. I just got a great idea. We should take advantage of this who demon and gargoyle thing while we can,” Jackie said playfully.  

Stan gulped. “Well, I haven’t really pushed any ideas since I didn’t want you thinking that you being a succubus would effect anything. I love you for more than that and-”

“Let’s go flying!”  

“That...that is not what I thought you meant.”

“Oh, that can happen later. I know you’ve had a hard time keeping your hands off me.” Jackie winked and hopped-up leaving Stan slack jawed in the dirt. She laughed and stretched her wings wide.  

“I think we could get some good air from here but maybe we should head up on the cliffs.”

“I don’t think I can fly. Too heavy,” Stan said.  

“I bet you can. If your furball and feathers of a twin can, so can you. Although just in case we probably shouldn’t start with the cliffs. Let's try from here.  

The hill wasn’t high enough to set off Stan’s heights fear, but it was one of the best places to sled on the farm. With the right wind it could be enough for a decent take off as Jackie was proving. She ran a few feet and stretched her wings, diving down to catch speed then turning up. She whooped happily as she climbed higher and higher. It almost looked like she could touch the large moon.

“Come on baby you can do it!” She shouted from the sky.  

Stan gulped. He took a deep breath and went down the hill at a run. He jumped like he saw Jackie do but then tumbled head over tail down the rest of the hill. As he finally rolled to a stop Jackie landed beside him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Hard head remember.” For emphasis Stan tapped his head and it made stony thumping noise.  

“How about I do it with you? That might help.”  

“Jackie I... there’s something I haven’t told you.” Stan frowned, he hated admitting it. “I’m afraid of heights.”

Jackie tilted her head in confusion and then something clicked. “That’s why you get Ford to do anything that involves a ladder! That’s why you like to use the apple picking tool instead of climbing!”  

“Yeah. Pretty pathetic huh.”

“Of course not! Being afraid of heights makes sense! It’s not like humans can fly...normally that is. I just can’t believe we’ve been together this whole time and I didn’t realize it.”

“I did my best to try and hide it.”  

Jackie petted his head causing him to purr again. Her claw like nails made a scratching noise against his stone skin. “Don’t be afraid to tell me you’re afraid Stan. I know you got it in your head you’re supposed to be this tough, sturdy guy-”

“What gave you that idea?” Stan asked in faux offense. Jackie shot him a look and gestured to his gargoyle body. He chuckled and let Jackie finish her thought.

“What I was trying to say is that it’s okay to be afraid and all those other human things. You don’t have to put on an act for me.”  

Stan’s smile faltered and he took Jackie’s hand in his. “...I know.” Logically he knew that but there were times he could still hear his pa’s voice in his head telling him to be a man. Men weren’t afraid of things. Men didn’t have feelings. Men were tough as stone. That wasn’t the kind of man he was though, deep down, despite his current appearance. Sure, he was tough, but he felt all these other feelings too and he didn’t want to deny them. It was just hard sometimes. He was thankful to whatever above that Jackie was patient with him about it.  

They sat at the bottom of the hill until Stan’s head finished spinning. Then he hauled himself up.

“Let’s try again.”

“Stan, you got nothing to prove.”

“I know that but when am I ever going to have a chance like this again. With luck these wings are gone within the week.”

He trudged back up the hill and watched how Jackie took off running and caught the fall breeze in her wings. She swooped up and flapped her wings hard to get higher and higher. Waiting until the wind picked up again Stan charged down the hill on all fours. As dumb as he felt it worked and he was able to feel a lift on his body. He beat his wings as hard as he could and the ground under him disappeared. The sudden disappearance of the ground spooked him, and he stopped flapping. His stone body went tumbling again.

“Stan!”

“I’m okay. I almost got this. Stay there!”

Determined he tried one more time. This time the wind was with him as a strong gust rolled across the orchard sending leaves and some apples flying. He flapped with all his might and didn’t panic this time when he took flight. His body was heavy. He could feel the strain in his back from the effort, but it was worth it to see Jackie’s delighted face.  

“How are you doing?” She lowered herself down a few feet to meet him where he was steady.  

“Alright if I don’t look down or think about being 20 feet in the air.”  

“Come on! Just keep your eyes on me.” She took Stan’s hand and together they started to soar through the starlit sky around the farm. As terrifying as it was it was also beautiful. The two of them danced in the sky for as long as Stan’s wings could hold him.  

Landing was tricky but when they made it back to their picnic spot Stan managed to stay on both feet despite tripping. He was even able to catch Jackie in his hands as she landed.  

“That was amazing,” she said breathlessly.

“You’re amazing,” Stan responded.  

“You might not agree with that after this. Tag you’re it!” She yelled pushing him slightly. She took off into the air again.  

“Hey now hold on!” Stan laughed and shouted after her, taking off into the sky again.  

[liliesoftherain]

My Hero Academia Main 3 Boys x Reader

Ch.11 Let’s Get Ready to Rumble!

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10

A/N: I’m sorry I can’t really write battle scenes I SUUCK, but I do have a cute DadJeanist moment that makes me smile cause I wish Jeanist was my dad ;( (jk dad i love you but c’mon you’d want him to be your dad) I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist, or if I missed anyone! 

TAGLIST:  @rizamendoza808 !(: @iris-suoh !(: @quicksilverfangirl​ !(: @shortperson202 !(: @noodlenerd101 !(: @matchamidoriya​ !(: @thorsbtch-captainnoobmaster69me​ !(: @pastel-prynce​ !(: @sunkissedneptune​ @monetfatalia​ !(: @legit-fandom-trash​ !(: @lovethewitchofendor​ !(:

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The arena was finally cleaned up after a while, as it was left a mess after Todoroki and Sero’s fight. Next up to battle, you watched as Denki took his place followed by the girl from class 1-B. You cheered him on along with the crowds who cheered for another match, but your cheers along with everyone else's were short lived. Denki had let out a large amount of electricity, only to have it blocked by the girl, the vines that made up her hair had grown and trapped him. Even if he wasn’t trapped, the poor boy used too much and had short circuited himself. You heard a laugh come from Jiro behind you, before a voice drowned it out.

“That match was over in what, two seconds?” 

You turned your head to face the person, and to your annoyance it was one person you really didn’t want to see.

“Oh great, it’s you again.” You sighed.

“Oh hello again mutt, I take no surprise in your classmates loss. I knew it was just all talk when everyone said class 1-A was supposed to be so much better than us-” Monama was cut off as he was dragged down from the wall divider that separates the classes, another face taking his place.

“Sorry about him!” She said apologetically before taking her leave. 

No one said anything but you could feel the annoyance, surprisingly, coming off of everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

Izuku was so distracted by talking to himself he didn’t notice the little interruption that had transpired, too busy writing down strategies. You looked at Ochaco as she glanced back at you with a shrug, unsure of what to make of the boy and his antics.

“Uh, maybe you shouldn’t try to plan too far ahead, it’s not good to worry over nothing.” You spoke out softy, trying not to scare him by being too loud.

That didn’t work as well as you thought it would, since he jumped in his seat, turning to you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Sorry!” He squeaked, “I didn’t realize I was talking out loud.. I just don’t get to see quirks from people outside of our class. This is an amazing opportunity and I want to make sure I can get all the information I can!” 

“Oh? You write everything down, don’t tell me you have info on everyone here too?”

“I do actually! Do you want to see? Here’s yours!” He flipped a couple pages back of the burnt notebook and stretched over the two boys in between you both to hand it off.

You grabbed it and looked at the page gently, you could feel Kirishima hovering over your shoulder to check it out as well. Izuku had a really neat sketch of you in your hero costume drawn out on the left side, taking up the entire page. While on the right side he had a bunch of information on you, including all your stats, strategies if he ever had to go up against you, and even some special moves he thought you could do.

“Wow Deku, should I be scared knowing you have all of this info on me? What, do you have my blood type too?” You teased.

“You drew her curves so good Midoriya! I knew you had it in you.” A nasty voice spoke up and you turned to look at him with annoyance.

“Give it a rest dude, that’s not cool to talk about a woman like that you know? Super unmanly.” Kirishima frowned, unimpressed at how pervy the kid could be.

Mineta just shrugged as you quickly closed the notebook so he wouldn’t stare at your drawing anymore.

“A woman's curves need to be appreciated.”

“Shut the hell up already, you fuckers are distracting!” Bakugou hissed out, shoving Mineta away from him and back to his place in the row behind him. 

He was already annoyed at the way you and Deku were talking so chummy, how you kept brushing shoulders with Kirishima. Because all he wanted to do was watch these losers fight in peace. Not hear your laugh, or worse, hear you praise Deku of all people. Now he had to deal with the little grape shit stain talking about you out loud? Why did all the attention have to be on you? Why were you always brought up around him? Why were you on his mind, especially when he should be thinking about his upcoming battle, even if he knew he was going to win. That smile you were giving him wasn’t helping either, why the hell were you smiling at him like that!? 

He thought back to when you brushed noses and with that thought he turned his head away from you in a hurry, feeling heat creep along his face as he remembered how close you two were. 

You gave him a smile of appreciation, one he outright ignored as he turned away abruptly. So you turned to Kirishima and smiled shyly for the same reason.

“He’s such a pervert, thanks.” You whispered.

“It’s my duty as a man and as a hero to protect the innocent from dangerous leeches.” He winked, speaking as softly as you were.

You giggled and looked back at Izuku who was still giving Mineta a look, you’ve never seen Midoriya glare so hard, it was a little weird. You didn’t like him without a smile on his face, so you grabbed his attention and attempted to put a smile there instead.

“Anyways Izuku, this is really cool. I always knew you were determined but this really takes it to a whole other level.”

It seemed to work, because as soon as he heard your voice a sweet and nervous smile was back on his face.

“Th-thanks!”

Izuku felt the blood rush to his face as he brushed hands with you as you gave him his notebook back. Your hands were so warm and your smile was so kind, he couldn’t help it. He felt annoyance at Mineta for saying those things about you, and it caused him to remember how Shinsou was talking about you like that too. No one had the right to talk about you, or anyone like that. Yeah you were pretty, really pretty, but that doesn’t mean they were allowed to talk about you like you were a piece of meat! 

His eyes widened a tad as he thought back to how he looked at you when you walked out with the other girls in your cheer uniform. Oh God, he did the same thing didn’t he? He was a pervert too wasn’t he! What a vulgar word! He didn’t want to be anything of the sort.

You watched as he shook his head frantically and laughed, not knowing the internal struggle he was going through. 

Your laugh broke him out of his daze and he couldn’t help the dopey grin that spread along his face. What was wrong with him?

“Let’s get ready to watch two new players duke it out! He’s the kid with engines in his legs, Tenya Iida from the Hero Course! Versus a fully equipped gadget dinamo from the support course, Mei Hatsume!”

“So it’s hero vs support huh?” Jirou muttered.

“I have no idea what this fight could look like!” Tsuyu said.

“Uh, what’s up with Iida’s outfit?” Sato questioned.

“Is he wearing gear?” You squinted.

Down below, Iida was putting on the equipment given to him from Hatsume herself. And after some reluctance and asking on iida’s part, Midnight had allowed it.

Even though the speech he made sounded like it was something Hatsume was using to make the playing field fair, she was doing anything but. Iida was being played like a fiddle and you looked on in pity. However, you didn’t stay to watch the end of the match, knowing your turn was up next. It seems Mina was already gone, probably in one of the waiting rooms available for the participants. You got up and went to leave as well, waving to those who wished you luck before making your way to one of the hallways that lead to the entrance. 

You took a deep breath tried to calm your nerves,  someone calling out to you while you did so. Your eyes went wide at the familiar voice and spun on you heel to see them walk up to you.

“Dad?” You grinned, attacking him in a hug.

“Hello sweetheart, you’re doing amazing.” He returned the hug.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You mumbled, enjoying the familiar denim the rubbed on your face from his hero suit.

“So am I sweetheart, it’s been surreal watching you perform out there. Although I am concerned on how reckless you were, is you arm alright?” He pulled away to look and touch your shoulder gently. Trying to analyze it for himself. 

“Yes dad I’m fine. I barely feel it now, and ‘sides, a little pain is nothing for this gal.” You laughed, pointing a thumb to your chest.

“Hm yes, I suppose so. A little setback has never stopped you.” He smoothed your hair down in an attempt to neaten it.

“I was also a little perplexed, to say the least, to see you and that Bakugou boy-”

“AH no!” You cut him off, embarrassment flooding your cheeks, “It was an accident, there’s nothing going on there at all.”

He looked at you with narrowed eyes and a raised eyebrow.

“I swear!”

He only hummed in response, accepting your answer for now. But you knew you definitely weren’t off the hook, the thought making you groan on the inside.

With the silence that stretched in the corridor, you felt your fears creep in once more.

“Dad?” Your voice timid.

“Yes?” 

“I’m.. I’m a bit nervous. What if I don’t win?”

“(y/n), the moments you feel like this is exactly why you remain focused and have an unwavering determination. This will lead you into victory no matter the outcome. Even if you do not happen to win, your victory will be in your perseverance and growth. Let your fear turn into your driving factor, give yourself a reason to fight. There is no reason to doubt yourself, you’ll always make me proud.” The corners of his eyes crinkled, indicating he smiled even if it was hidden behind his costume.

“Thanks dad, you’re right as always. I love you.” You smiled.

“I love you too sweetheart,” The announcement for you to make your way to the arena was heard overhead, “now go and make your mark on the world.”

“Right!” You gave him one last hug before walking away from him, and onto the field. The crowd was a blur, faces unidentifiable from here, but you spotted all your classmates and felt your determination harden. If they could be brave, so would you.

“Let’s jump right along to the fifth match! Is there some reason she has those things sticking out of her head? From class 1-A, Mina Ashido! Versus, our quick-witted miss who definitely has got the skills and potential, also from 1-A, (y/n) Hakamata!”

“I have this in the bag bestie!” An unshaken smile on her face, “sorry to say you’ll be losing!”

“We’ll have to see about that now won't we?” Your own steely grin present.

“Well let’s get started! Let the fifth match, BEGIN!”

You attacked first, sending off a blast off light that she immediately dodged with ease. 

“HA, you’ll have to be quicker than that!” She called out.

She was using her quirk like skates, her acid granting her a slippery path to glide along, making it easier to dodge your long ranged attacks. She had always seen you use long range attacks, and you wanted to use that to your advantage. She probably assumed you weren’t as skilled in close combat, but that’s where her downfall would be.

She rushed at you and you quickly bent the light to wrap around your fists and upper arms, hardening while retaining its heat. You braced yourself as she threw a punch, counter attacking as she pulled her hand back quickly due to what you assumed was the burning. You brought your own arm up and tried to catch her off guard, but she managed to dodge the first swing, but she failed to notice your left jab coming straight after your right hook. 

She cried out as she was thrown back, catching herself before she flew out of bounds.

“Ye-ouch! That’s hot!”

You lunged again but this time she knew better than to let you get close, she skated away from you, keeping her distance. She flung her acid in your direction, but missed. Several times. So you kept up the charade of dodge and attack while trying to figure out why she wasn’t aiming for you. A crack alerted you and that’s when you knew, she was trying to make the whole area fall apart and give you no time to collect yourself, making you fall out of bounds. What a great idea.

Forming a plan, you got to work. Assaulting her with beam after beam from both hands, not giving her time to rest as she had to stay on her toes to make sure she wasn’t hit.You made your way closer to the edge, giving Mina the impression she could trap you there.

“I’ve got you now!” She shouted.

“You sure?” You asked.

She looked confused and you knew it had worked. While she was inching her way closer to you in hopes to knock you off, she failed to notice that now she was standing very close to the area that had been damaged with acid earlier.

You sent a large beam of solid light straight next to her feet, the most unstable part of the arena. She thought she dodged your attack, but instead landed on now crumbling cement with a yelp. You used this distraction to your advantage, crouching low and kicking the air as you did. Solid, yet cooled, light shot out from your outstretched foot. The momentum knocking into Mina’s back and sent her tumbling to the right and face first out of the boundary. 

“Ashido is out of bounds! Hakamata shall move on to the next round!” Midnight announced, the crowd going wild.

“Well you saw it here folks, finally we got our first real action packed battle! Thanks girls!” 

You walked to Mina and extended your hand to help her up, which she gladly took. 

“Well I guess I spoke too soon didn’t I?” She snickered, pulling herself up with your help.

“Maybe just a bit, but you were a worthy opponent nonetheless.”

“Oh you know it!”

You both laughed as you walked off the field together, no hard feelings present. You did feel an overwhelming amount of relief and happiness though, even though you knew there was more battles, you let yourself enjoy this win.

Walking into the long halls you saw the next participant walking towards you both.

“Oh hey Momo!” Mina yelled out with a wave.

“Hello girls, good fight from the both of you! And congratulations Hakamata, I’ll be looking forward to our fight once I win.” Momo smiled.

“Well I’ll look forward to it!” 

“Who are you fighting Momo?” Mina wondered.

“Tokoyami. He has a pretty impressive quirk, so I’m going to have to be cautious and execute a phenomenal plan.”

“Well I have no doubts you’ll do great.”

“Thank you Hakamata-”

“C’mon Momo, call me (y/n)! Don’t worry, I’ll still let you call me it if you beat me. If you can.” You joked.

“Alright, you better be careful what you say (y/n), karma may favor me after your boasting.”

“Me? Boast? Never!”

You all giggled, wishing Momo good luck before parting ways, her heading towards the arena while you two continued your journey to the balcony. Once you arrive, you notice Izuku sitting alone in the front row by himself, so you took a seat directly to his right. As soon as he felt your presence he grinned, eyes wide in wonder and happiness.

“(y/n)! That match was really incredible! Like, the way you were able to maneuver Ashido by the unstable part of the arena without her noticing? It’s such a smart tactic to think of on the spot!”

“Way to rub it in Midoriya!” Mina huffed, crossing her arms with a pout.

“Sorry! You did really well Ashido, I knew this was going to be an amazing match! But (y/n) you’re power is so incredible to see in action! I mean, I already knew that it was and I told you it before when I wanted you on my team earlier, but I just didn’t realize there was so much you could do? Is there a limit on how far you can make the light stretch? Or how hard you can manipulate it? We’ve already seen you use it like bracers or gloves and as beams but like, is there a way to-”

“Shut the hell up shitty nerd! Quit fangirling and rambling like an idiot!” Bakugou rolled his eyes and stood up.

He walked away from the seats, deciding to wait in one of the training rooms to get some peace and quiet before his match. What was Deku’s problem, looking at you like some puppy dog? He acted as if your win was a surprise to him, which was just stupid because he was praising you and your quirk to the tail man before you went on, so what gives? Bakugou knew you were going to win, while raccoon eyes didn’t seem that bad of a fighter, you were the one on his team after all. Which was something that made him smirk, knowing you chose his team over Deku’s. Ha, he knew it. He knew he was better than that loser, and it seemed you knew it too. So why the hell were you always talking to him?

Your eyes followed Bakugou’s form as he stalked off, before turning back to comfort Izuku whose face had gone bright red from being called out.

“Thanks Deku! But, I do have to keep some things a secret you know. Can’t have you knowing all of my tricks now can I?” You winked.

“Uh yeah of course not!” 

“So Midoriya, who do you think is going to win this one? Since your prediction for Hakamata’s match was right?” Oijiro asked as he leaned forward, his arms crossed and on top of the seat to Deku’s left.

As he trailed off answering Oijiro’s questions, you felt yourself blush. He had gotten the last prediction right? Meaning he thought you were going to win, did he have that much faith in you?

“Now lets not let this hot-streak cool! Time to move onto the 6th round! This guy is offense and defense in one, the dark samurai and his darker shadow! From Class 1-A hero course, Fumikage Tokoyami! Versus, the great creator! She was admitted on recommendations and we could see why from the previous matches! It’s Momo Yaoyorozu who is also a Class 1-A student! So let’s get going, 6th match, BEGIN!”

You watched closely, knowing whoever won this was going to be your opponent for your next match. While you had faith in Momo, knowing her quirk was incredible all on its own, Tokoyami was also someone with a powerful quirk.

As if to prove your thoughts, Tokoyami wasted no time by having dark shadow ram into Momo’s shield relentlessly. She could barely react and it was apparent that she was flustered, seeing as she was pushed out of bounds in under thirty seconds.

Your eyebrows drew together while crossing your arms at the fact you would have to go up against him. It was a little troublesome, since you weren’t sure how dark shadow fared in physical attacks. He took a direct hit from on of Bakugou’s explosions, but as far as you could tell there was no damage done while he blocked it.

“Tokoyami is way too powerful!” Deku’s mouth dropped, and all you could do was hum in agreement.

You hoped you could figure out some type of plan to win, you came this far and there was no way you were backing down now.

[kinglazrus]

i saw that post and thought of this yesterday but my brain was unreasonably shy but here it is now usdygbhjn: “It’s three in the morning.” danny @ dash

Milky Way

Sometimes Danny hates living in the city. Actually, most of the time he hates it. Not because of the noise, or all the people, or even the ghosts, but the stars. Or the lack of them, at least.

Danny was ten years old when he realized the sky he saw every night was a lie. He had seen plenty of pictures of the night sky taken from different parts of the world. At that age, he just assumed that’s how the sky worked. Some places had less stars than others, he was unfortunately born in a place with very few stars overhead.

Until his sister got him a big astronomy textbook for his tenth birthday and he learned the city was to blame. All the city lights polluted the sky and kept him from seeing the sky for what it truly was. For weeks, he tried to convince his parents to move, to pack up all their things in the RV and drive out far away into the middle of nowhere, where there was no people and no light pollution, and he could see the stars in all their glory every night.

He never got that wish, but nowadays Danny doesn’t mind it so much. Now, if he wants to see the night sky as it should be seen, all he has to do is fly up, up, up beyond the clouds, just past the edge of the mesosphere.

There, he floats along the Kármán line, the boundary between Earth’s atmosphere and space, and he can see everything. It’s beautiful. He can’t help but think of every childhood drawing he made of the stars and how wrong he was.

The sky isn’t an endless expanse of black peppered with bright white spots. It’s a gorgeous mix of blues and purples, and even some pink in the Milky Way itself. Every inch of the sky is covered in stars. There are so many he has trouble picking out the constellations he knows better than his hometown, but he manages.

The familiar cup of Ursa Minor, Draco’s lithe body winding past, Hercules’ crooked form by the dragon’s head.

Danny traces the familiar lines with his softly glowing eyes and feels as empty as the space between the stars. Even though that distance looks so small from here, he knows how vast it really is.

Tipping back his head, he stares back down toward Earth. Cities make their own constellations across the dark surface. The sixty-two miles between him and the ground right now is not enough. He wants to fly higher, way out into space, and get lost in its cold comfort. But he can’t, because he has a city to protect, friends who depend on him, and a family who loves him.

At least he thinks they love him.

Danny reaches for his phone and goes to check the time, but the screen doesn’t turn on. He frowns, tapping the screen, and even shakes the device a few times. And then he remembers how cold it’s supposed to be up here, something he can’t really feel anymore, and it probably killed the battery.

He’s just lucky it isn’t iced over. At this height, it should be, but he probably has the radiation from his ectoplasm to thank for that.

Grudgingly, Danny tells himself he should probably head home. He flips over, head to the ground, and starts flying.

He takes his time, it’s still barely more than hour before he’s back in Amity. Just before diving through Fenton Work’s roof, he looks back up at the sky. It’s empty and sad.

The first thing Danny does when he’s back in his room is plug in his phone. He considers transforming; it’s dangerous to stay in ghost form while his parents are home. But after staring at his blank phone for a few long seconds he decides against it. He doesn’t really want to be human right now.

Curled up on his bed, head against his pillow, knees pulled up to his chest, he waits for his phone to charge enough to turn on. Those five minutes feel infinitely longer than his flight back from space.

“Screw you, Clockwork,” Danny mutters. It’s not really Clockwork’s fault, but it feels good to have someone to blame, and the ghost of time is a ripe target.

The moment his screen lights up, Danny reaches out and snags it off his bedside table. He notes the time, quarter to three, then goes through his notifications. Some spam emails, a couple game notifications, but no texts or calls. Which makes sense, it’s the middle of the night, who the hell would be up right now besides him?

As soon as Danny thinks that, his phone buzzes and a message appears at the top of his screen.

From Dash: [image]

Another quickly follows.

From Dash: was that u?

Eyes heavy, Danny stares at the texts for a long moment before clicking them. The messaging app is bright and glaring compared to his dark home screen and he squints when it lights up his room. He clicks the image Dash send, feeling instant relief when his screen gets significantly darker.

It’s a shot of the sky from Dash’s bedroom window, the corner of the next building over cutting through the image. Just above that is a bright white speck. If Danny didn’t know better, he might have mistaken it for a star or a planet.

Closing out the image, Danny types back: yeah, it’s me.

He hits send, turns onto his back, and sets his phone down on his chest. He’s not expecting a reply, although he has no reason not to, so it startles him when his phone buzzes not even a second later.

From Dash: thought so. What were…

From Dash: Patrol?

Danny pulls himself up, opening his phone once again, and reads the full messages.

Dash: thought so. What were you doing so high up?

Dash: Patrol?

Hunched over his phone, Danny doesn’t so much stare at the screen as he does zone out in its general direction. He knows what he wants to type in response, but he can’t seem to get his fingers to move.

The phone sits cradled in his hand, his thumbs thick silhouettes against the white screen. The longer he looks, the more he thinks they aren’t his thumbs but just thumbs. Anyone’s thumbs. They didn’t belong to him. He was a hundred miles away, out in space.

Before he can decide if this is a good or bad idea, he hits the call button.

It gets through half a ring before Dash picks up.

“Hey, Danny.”

Dash’s is voice is rough and dry, but it isn’t thick with sleep, reassuring Danny he hasn’t dragged Dash out of partial slumber.

“Danny?”

The call time says it’s been going for over a minute.

Danny swallows. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Dash…” Danny trails off. He rolls his neck. It pops in a way that probably isn’t healthy, but is also so familiar he doesn’t think twice about it anymore. He licks his lips. “Why are we friends?”

That isn’t what he meant to say. He doesn’t know what he really wanted to say, but he knows that wasn’t it.

The call is at five minutes.

“Because Paulina and Sam are dating.” Dash chuckles.

Danny thinks he should be chuckling too, but the sound doesn’t come. It’s a joke they’ve made a hundred times, as familiar as the crick in Danny’s neck, but it’s not the answer he wants right now.

“I’m friends with Tucker because… because we’ve always been friends. I can’t imagine not being friends with him,” Danny says. He takes one the hands—his hands, he has to remind himself—away from the phone and turns it over. Is it really him doing that?

“Sam kind of made herself friends with us. But we always thought she was cool anyway, so, we wanted her.” Danny rubs his hand on his thigh, stopping to grip his knee. He can feel the pressure, but he can’t really feel it. “We hate each other.”

Ten minutes.

“We used to, I guess. I don’t know. I don’t think I ever really hated you. Just, stupid high school stuff.”

“Stupid high school stuff,” Danny repeats. He glances at the time at the top of his screen. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you up at three in the morning?”

“Why are you?”

Danny sucks in a sharp breath. “Just. Couldn’t sleep. Yeah.”

“Yeah? Same.”

This time, Danny chuckles. He can’t figure out why it’s funny, but it is. Dash? Having trouble sleeping? People like him aren’t supposed to have Danny’s problems. They’re supposed to date the head cheerleader, and have tons of friends, and get some big football scholarship that carries them through college, and be famous. Or something.

But the head cheerleader is dating Sam. Dash only has a handful of people he talks to regularly. He told Danny last month that he doesn’t want to play football in college. He wants to be a social worker, like his mom, and not be famous.

Danny laughs again.

“What’s so funny?”

“S-Sam,” Danny says between giggles. “Sam stole your girlfriend.”

“She really didn’t.” Dash sounds amused, a humorous lilt in his voice.

Danny can’t figure out what he finds so funny. It’s Dash’s life that isn’t going how it’s supposed to. Sucks to be him, thrust into a set role the moment he became quarterback in freshman year, stuck with a path he doesn’t want, that he doesn’t quite seem to fit. What kind of high school king is he?

The next time Danny laughs, it sounds closer to a sob. He sniffs and rubs his nose on his sleeve, the thick, rubbery material of his jumpsuit irritating his nose. The suit smells vaguely of burnt flesh and sulfur. No matter what Danny does, he can’t seem to wash it out.

Twenty minutes.

“Danny, I think you should go to sleep now.”

“’M fine,” Danny insists.

“You’re really not.”

“That’s kind of rude.” Danny drags his hand through his hair. It never feels like normal hair in his ghost form. Too wispy and light, like a silk veil.

“I can call you in the morning if you want. Or I can get Paulina to text Sam, or Tucker. I think I still have Jazz’s number somewhere.”

“Don’t hang up,” Danny says softly. He fells forward, curling onto his side around the phone, sticking his feet under his pillow.

They’ve been on the phone for well over half an hour now. Danny’s pretty sure they haven’t talked enough to fill out all that time. He wonders how much of it Dash has spent just sitting there, waiting for Danny to answer. It makes him feel like a bit of a prick.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Danny can tell Dash doesn’t know what the apology’s for, but he appreciates the acceptance nonetheless.

“You won’t hang up?” Danny asks.

“I won’t hang up.”

Danny nods, even though Dash can’t see it. He wishes he could. He wants someone here right now, but not Sam, or Tucker, or his sister, or his parents who maybe hate him, but he can never be too sure because they don’t know they hate him and he’s too afraid to tell them. Without all those other options, he supposes Dash will do.

He falls asleep, eventually, and wakes up human and cold, his phone still on beside him.

[woahhiperson]

Continue of previous idea dump:

Grima begins to tell Robin how the other Shepherds have made Chrom doubtful of them, feeding on Robin’s secret love for him. Robin is in such a vulnerable, hurt place that it works. Grima/Robin begins to try persuade Chrom to join them, trying to chromvince him that they aren’t evil. (This is where ima use some of meant to be yours cause it did fuel this entire idea afterall)

Those assholes are the key!

They're keeping you away from me!

They made you blind, messed up your mind

But I can set you free!

Robin’s hidden desperation fueled by Grimas quiet whisper causes him to begin to spill everything to Chrom, rage practically spilling out as he begins to almost sob. He tries to tell Chrom how the Shepherds were leading him astray, although he had little to no evidence of it because it wasn’t exactly true.

You left me and I fell apart, I punched the wall and cried—

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Then I found you changed my heart and set loose all that truthful shit inside!

He begins telling Chrom how much he depended on him, and how he felt so broken when they were separated. At this point Chrom is more scared of him than willing to join him because he had never heard Robin so unhinged. ‘Was this who Robin truely was?’

I was meant to be yours!

We were meant to be one!

Don't give up on me now!

Finish what we've begun!

I was meant to be yours!

Robin confesses his love at possibly the worst time cause that just kinda happens, but of course he is a bit more forceful about it than he would usually be. Grima is still standing back not doing much other than occasionally whispering to Robin.

So when the high school gym goes boom with everyone inside—

Pchw! Pchw! Pchw!

In the rubble of their tomb

We'll plant this note explaining why they died!

We, the students of Westerburg High

Will die. Our burnt bodies may finally get through

To you. Your society churns out slaves and blanks

No thanks. Signed the Students of Westerburg High

'Goodbye.'

Robin forgets about hiding the plan and tells Chrom how he was about to kill them all, including Chrom himself. Chrom is pretty much chromvinced that Robin has gone insane and is ready to keep him from hurting anyone, even if it meant hurting him. Robin had just told him his feelings and Chrom is frustrated that he hadn’t told Robin his earlier, as he wouldn’t be telling them now.

We'll watch the smoke poor out the doors.

Bring marshmallows,

We'll make s'mores!

We can smile and cuddle while the fire roars!

Chrom is scared of Robin now. ‘Why would he enjoy watching his friends die?!?’

I was meant to be yours!

We were meant to be one!

I can't make this alone!

Finish what we've begun!

You were meant to be mine!

I am all that you need!

You carved open my heart!

Can't just leave me to bleed!

Robin is desperate as he spills everything. He doesn’t want Chrom to hate him. Robin tries so hard to chromvince him that he isn’t the enemy. Grima’s influence has gone to far, and most of Robin has faded away, leaving a desperate shell of who he used to be. It gives Grima utter glee to see Robin broken as he begs Chrom to come out and forgive him, and join him.

Veronica, open the—open the door, please'

Veronica, open the door.

Veronica, can we not fight anymore'

Please, can we not fight anymore'

(Of course Chrom’s name aint Veronica but i dont wanna change the lyrics rn) Robin is starting to get angry at Chrom for not letting him in, but he is trying to stay calm as to keep Chrom on his side. Chrom is not on his side, though, but Robin doesn’t know that.

Veronica, sure, you're scared,

I've been there. I can set you free!

Veronica, don't make me come in there!

I'm gonna count to three!

(Spoken) One! Two! Fuck it!

He is trying so hard to tell Chrom that everything is going to be okay. Then Robin can’t handle the silence that he has been getting almost the entire time and breaks open the door, only to have a sword pointed at his throat. Robin had flung his tome away long ago during the beginning arguements, and was stuck weaponless, Falchion almost hissing as it was ready to penetrate his throat. Robin can’t win, not without something changing. Grima comes back and takes most of the control before Robin does anything too irrational. Grima/Robin realizes that he isn’t backed against a wall, and makes a run for it, still not grabbing the tome that had been left on the ground. Robin turns and runs out the opposite exit from which the Shepherds had come in, running out into the fields. The Shepherds had long began searching for the two as they had been gone for quite awhile, and see Robin as he escapes the building, with Chrom not trailing too far behind. Some of the Shepherds chase after them, leaving some behind to take care of supplies. Robin runs into the forest, trying to lose Chrom, but Robin can’t seem to fully escape ad everytime he looks behind him, he can see Falchion glinting in what little light there was. Turns out that one of the Shepherds that had joined the chase was Lucina, because she did not want to leave her father alone. After all, she never knew exactly when he had been killed. She came just to be safe. Soon Grima/Robin reaches a dead end, and is forced to face Chrom head on. Grima/Robin can see dried tears on Chroms face as he slowly draws near, the others not much further behind. Lucina comes quicker than the others, asking her father what happened. Chrom stays silent, focused on stopping Robin in almost whatever way he had to. Robin seemed to have gone insane, for an unknown reason, and he could not let him run around unsupervised anymore. After all, Robin could end up hurting himself in the process. He stands before Robin, who is shaking, staring with wide eyes as he desperately searches for an escape. Grima/Robin thinks that Chrom wants to kill them. Then, in a rush preceded by nothing, Grima/Robin pushes Chrom away and steals Falchion, throwing it off to the side as he begins to run again. Then he is caught by Lucina, who ties his hands in rope. Lucina had realized that there was a wild look in Robin’s eyes and wondered, ‘was it possibly Robin who had killed father?’ She wouldn’t have ever guessed it before, but now, he seemed about ready to do anything. Lucina questioned Robin about this in front of everyone who had followed, and Robin nervously denies wanting to hurt Chrom, almost going on another rant when Chrom stops Lucina and tells her Robin needs to be sent away. Everyone questions why, and Chrom tells them everything as Robin feels everything inside him crumble away. He trusted Chrom, and Chrom had told them everything that he wanted to keep secret? Robin slowly recedes to the innermost area of his mind, letting himself hide away, leaving Grima in complete control. While Chrom does want to send Robin to a safer place where he can be monitored, they are in the middle of a war at the moment, so they will have to bring him along. They meet back at their most recent battle site and continue along, always keeping an eye on Robin, who has only begun planning his next move. (Ok i might write out the rest of the ideas i have rn later cause ive been typing for awhile and I tired sooooo yeah)

[sav-wites-everything]

Always, Sweetheart - PART 1

(Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x Reader)

Requested: no

Summary: You and your childhood best friend, Roger Taylor, jumped at the first opportunity to get a flat together when you both got accepted to the same University. Living with your rockstar best friend has plenty of perks, but when bottled up feelings and a new lead singer threatens to get in the way, you find yourself saying things without thinking.

A/N: I’ve always been a huge fan of Queen so clearly I’ve been obsessing over BoRhap lately but didn’t know if I should really push that here? A lot of you guys are Marvel or Kingsman fans, but who knows, some of you may be Queenies like me and this may draw in some new followers! Either way, I hope you all like it and make sure to leave some feedback! Enjoy!! xx (also sorry I’m garbage at actually getting out requests. I have like 6 half finished requests in my drafts)

Warnings: angst, swears, mentions of sex, a little bit of FWB!Rami Malek!Freddie Mercury x Reader mentioned

You munched lazily on your semi-burnt toast, a cup of coffee billowing steam on the tiny table in front of you. Pulling the blanket wrapped around your shoulders tighter, your eyes fell on the pair of red heels by the front door of your shared flat. It felt like a rock had been dropped into the pit of your stomach but you chalked it up to the bad toast and black coffee.

You finally tore your eyes away when you heard a bedroom door open from down the hall. Holding your breath, you prayed it wasn’t whatever girl Roger had brought home the night before. Instead, a very sleepy and hickie-covered Roger shuffled into the kitchen. He clearly didn’t notice you as he made his was to the warm coffee pot as he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Allowing your eyes to linger on his bare torso a little too long, you cleared your throat as a hot blush rose to your cheeks. Whatever happened to the scrawny punk you knew in grade school?

Roger jumped in fright and spun around to face you, a bit of his blonde hair sticking straight up on the left side. “Good morning, sleepy head,” you giggled into your coffee.

He clutched at his chest before taking a deep breath. “I swear to god, love, I need to put a bell on you,” he replied, his voice still gravelly with sleep.

You rolled your eyes with a grin but it quickly faded as you heard Roger’s bedroom door open again. “So is she from Economics, Intro to American Lit, or do you not know?” you mumbled, a hint of venom in your voice.

Roger just shot you a stern look as a pretty redhead slunk into the kitchen. He hated when his one-night flings stuck around so late into the morning, especially if you didn’t have class in the morning like today. It was established long ago when you two first started living together that Roger could bring back whomever he wanted and vice versa. Although, the last time you brought a man home was about 10 months ago and he didn’t even reciprocate in bed.

Roger always felt embarrassed the next morning, though. Sure, you felt a little awkward too, but you more so felt... sad. Not that you would ever tell Roger this. Lord knows how quickly you’d be having to find another place to live if your best friend found out you had been harboring feelings for him since high school.

As the redhead stared at you wide-eyed, you gave her a forced smile. “Roggie... I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” she said, her voice shakey with obvious fear. You couldn’t help but grimace at the nickname she had given Roger. You could feel Roger shudder at it too but what really caught your attention was the scoff that came out of his mouth.

“She’s not my girlfriend” he replied with a hint of... was it laughter? Was he laughing at the thought of you being his girlfriend? “She’s just my roommate.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and blinked back the tears that pricked at your eyes. Standing up with your now empty coffee cup in your hand, you brushed past the redhead who was now much more relaxed and relieved. “Yup, just his roommate,” you mumbled before heading to your own bedroom, all but slamming the door shut.

Roger winced where he stood against the kitchen counter. His eyes remained glued to the chair you had just been sitting in. He didn’t even avert his gaze when... Amanda? Yeah, Amanda. When Amanda snakes her arms around his neck and began planting kisses on his jaw. He hated making you upset with the girls he brought home. This was your home too and he shouldn’t make you uncomfortable like this.

Removing Amanda’s arms from around his neck, he finally looked at her. “I think you should go,” he said monotonously.

She looked at him with shock that quickly diffused into anger. “You men are all the same,” she spat before rushing to gather her things. Roger dragged a frustrated hand down his face as she slammed the front door shut behind her. He turned around to finally pour himself some coffee when he heard the front door opening again. This was a new one. He’d never had an angry girl come storming back in.

Rushing out into the hallway, his heart sank when he saw it was you leaving. You normally spent your days off with him, either at home in front of the TV or down at your favorite cafe. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice weaker than he intended.

You had the door propped open with your hip as you were finishing tying a blue scarf around your neck. “Out,” you said bluntly.

Roger let out a chuckle but no smile rose to your face. “I can see that...” He had to pause and swallow hard as he noticed you were wearing a low cut shirt and a tight skirt as you readjusted the fur coat you had on. You weren’t just going out. You were meeting someone. A male someone. “Who are you going to see?”

You watched as Roger crossed his arms over his strong chest and you had to tear your eyes back up to his face before you began blushing again. “A guy I met in my design class. What’s it matter to you?” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh but the way he laughed when he said you weren’t his girlfriend still stung.

“Fine,” he huffed as he threw his arms up, “I just won’t show worry and interest in my best friend’s well being.”

You let out a sigh and walked towards Roger, letting the door shut with a soft click. He knew what you were doing and instantly opened his arms to you. You gave him a tight hug before mumbling “I’m sorry I’m being a jerk. You guys were just kinda loud last night and I didn’t sleep well.” It wasn’t a complete lie but you weren’t about to tell him that your heart aches for a love you knew would never be returned.

He held you closer and even ventured to place a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sorry too, love. I’ll try to remember better not to bring someone home when you have the day off.” With one last squeeze he pushed you away gently, still holding your shoulders. “So who is this guy, huh?”

You blushed a bit and looked down at your feet. “He’s just a good friend from class. He asked me to go with him to a new art exhibit downtown.” Looking back up at Roger, you noticed his eyebrows knit together and a soft frown on his lips. “I think you’d actually really like him, Rog. I have to go though. I’m already late.”

Hesitantly stepping out of Roger’s grip, you made your way back to the front door. “Be safe, love.”

You threw a glance over your shoulder with a smile, “Always, sweetheart.”

Like that you were gone and Roger was left feeling like someone had ripped his heart out. He had to remind himself that you could go out with anyone you wanted. You didn’t know that Roger was madly in love with and often dreamed about what it would be like to be the one to take you out to art exhibits and fancy dinners, his hand never leaving yours. If he couldn’t call you his, he could at least always be there for you.

With a sigh, he turned to the phone on the hallway table and called up his friend Brian to see if he was up for some band practice. He needed to let out some pent up frustration.

*******

You closed the front door as quietly as possible. With your shoes clutched in your right hand and a belly swimming with alcohol, you softly stepped down the hallway. It was around 3 am and you didn’t want to wake Roger. You knew he had a long day of classes and then rehearsal for his band’s, Smile, concert tomorrow night.

As you passed the living room, however, you noticed a lamp still on and Roger lounging on the couch with a magazine straddling his bare torso. Why’d he always have to be shirtless?

His chest rose and fell with gentle breaths as he slept soundly. Stepping towards him, you grabbed a blanket off of the arm chair. As you got close, however, the floor creaked beneath you.

Cursing softly, Roger’s eyes fluttered open and landed on you. His lips turned up into a sleepy smile. “(Y/N)...” Your heart threatened to best of out your chest at the sound of your name on his sleepy tongue.

“Let’s get you to bed, Rog,” you said leaning down to hook an arm under one of his.

As you bent forward though, he noticed the growing purple mark on your throat and your smudged lipstick. He grabbed your wrist a little roughly, all hint of him being tired leaving his face. “Where the hell have you been? What time is it?” he snapped.

Yanking your arm out of his tight grip, you back away from him. “With Freddie, you twit,” you snapped back. “And it’s about 3:30,” you said a little more sheepishly.

“This is the third time this week you’ve gotten home this late!” The rise in volume of his voice caused you to shrink back even more. “And I thought he was just a friend but you’ve clearly been shagging him!” He pointed right at the hickie on your neck.

You clenched your fists and felt your face grow hot. “First of all, my sex life is none of your business, Roger!” you yelled back at him. Roger’s eyes went wide, as if he was just now realizing he had yelled at you. “And second, we are just friends! Just friends can shag each other! But that’s something you clearly don’t understand since you have a perfectly good female friend in your own house who cares about you and is more than willing to climb on top of you!” You quickly snapped your mouth shut, the realization of what you had just said dawning on you. You said you would fuck Roger. To Roger.

Roger looked just as bewildered as you felt. His palms became sweaty and he was at a loss for words. This never happened when a girl told him the things she would do to him. But this was so much different. This was (Y/N). His best friend. The love of his life. “You...” Roger began, nervously, “You want to... with me?”

Wringing the straps of your shoes in your hands, you quickly backpeddaled. “N-no. I was just... it was um... an example.. I just...” You stuttered as Roger stood from the couch. It felt as if he was towering over you and although the pair of you could be found in each other’s arms on the couch on a Sunday afternoon, this kind of closeness felt so foreign.

His face was mere inches from your own and his breath smelt of cigarettes and chocolate. “You just what?” he breathed. Just then, however, he could smell the beer on your breath. His heart sank. You were drunk. You didn’t mean what you said.

“I just need to go to bed,” you almost whispered, quickly turning away from Roger and all but running to your bedroom. You closed your door harshly and locked it, leaning against the door and sliding to the floor. Your breathing came out in ragged bursts.

Roger had followed you to your bedroom and knelt in front of the door. He could hear that you were on the verge of sobbing. “(Y/N),” he breathed. You grew silent. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. You’re right, what you do is none of my business. I just... I worry about you.” You remained quiet. Roger wiggled his fingers through the crack below your door. “Do you forgive me, love?”

He felt your smaller hand rest over his calloused fingers, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Always, sweetheart,” you whispered.

A/N: Okay, so this was kind of garbage but I think I am for sure going to add to it. I just want to kind of test the waters and see what you guys think. Make sure to leave feedback! xx

[astraldragons]

“In which Shiro shrinks on an unfamiliar planet AKA I’m not clever enough to come up with a title for this”; part 2 commissioned by the lovely @acetrainerhope!

Part 1

Commission Info HERE!

Warnings: Some peril, and spoilers for Voltron: Legendary Defender season 4.

~

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Good. Hold for four, exhale for four.

Shiro sighs and runs a hand over his face. Although he can’t tell for certain, he thinks it’s been about five minutes since contacting the other paladins— so Pidge would likely arrive at any minute now.

He’ll appreciate the help, but… he’s still bracing himself for the inevitable shock, both on his end and on Pidge’s. It’s not exactly every day that your leader gets shrunken down to about the size of… what, exactly? A mouse? Judging from his helmet, the only thing he’s even familiar with on this godforsaken planet, he’s probably about the size of one of the space mice.

...Ugh. Deep… deep breaths. Stay calm. It’s fine, it’s going to be fine—

Shiro’s shoulders stiffen up as a faint rustling sound draws his attention.

“...Pidge?” He calls tentatively. “Pidge, is that you?”

No response.

Shiro grimaces and quickly leans towards the speaker of his helmet, keeping a wary eye on his surroundings. “Are any of you nearby? I’m hearing noises.”

There’s an agonizingly long moment of silence.

“I’m still the closest to you, but I’m still at least a couple minutes away,” Pidge’s voice chirps over the intercom. “Whatever that noise is, stay on guard. We don’t have much information on this planet’s flora and fauna.”

The rustling returns, louder this time. Shiro’s breaths quicken, his Galra prosthetic lighting up with its familiar, eerie purple glow.

“Alright,” Shiro breathes. “Pidge… I’m gonna need you to hurry. I’m not… gonna be able to fend off anything major. Not like this.”

“Wait, Shiro? Not like what—?”

Shiro pulls away from the helmet, arm at the ready as glowing eyes peer from the bushes before him. He can vaguely hear Pidge’s frantic calling behind him, but his focus is trained on the claws emerging from the undergrowth.

A long, thin, scaly snout, incredibly large, pointed ears, needle-sharp claws, and flickering, sky-blue eyes all greet Shiro at once, the creature letting out a rattling hiss as its three tails lash behind it.

“I’m assuming you’re not friendly,” Shiro mutters.

The creature lets out another vicious hiss before running towards Shiro, its ferret-like body moving impossibly fast. The black paladin growls and holds his ground, his arms up in a defensive stance. At the last second, as the creature lunges at him with its jaws wide open, Shiro jumps out of the way with his right arm outstretched.

A grim smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as the creature howls and the scent of burnt fur wafts to Shiro’s nose.

But he doesn’t have time to celebrate. No, he quickly turns on his heel, facing the creature head-on—

“SCRRREEEE!”

Shiro grunts in pain as his body is knocked flying by a vicious swipe of the creature’s paw, hitting the ground roughly. He instinctively rolls to the side, narrowly avoiding getting a claw pierced through his armor’s chest plate. With another half-roll, Shiro is back on his feet and running like hell towards his helmet. He makes it within a few inches— to him, a few feet— before something snags on his jetpack and knocks him to the ground.

“PIDGE!” Shiro yells, clawing for purchase on the planet’s marshy ground. “Backup! Backup now!”

And then he’s roughly dragged backwards.

He sharply turns his head, noting one of the claws hooked on his jetpack, dragging him back towards the creature’s waiting maw.

“Not today,” Shiro snarls, his hand flaring to life. With a fierce lunge, his hand grabs onto the creature’s claw, the searing heat easily slicing through the light, sharp material. The creature lets out a piercing wail, nearly causing Shiro to go down from the sheer, splitting noise alone— but he hauls himself back to his feet, darts forward, but he’s not fast enough, the teeth are coming at him and—

The beast lets out another hideous scream as a sharp-edged, very familiar green edge slices into its side, leaving a sizable gash before the blade retreats, snaking back into the bushes— and then the bayard’s owner steps out from the shadows, weapon still drawn and aimed at the creature.

Pidge’s eyes narrow. “Pick on someone your own size,” she growls, continuing to step closer towards the creature and Shiro.

The creature’s hackles rise, but it’s clearly not stupid— as soon as Pidge draws closer, it beats a hasty retreat back into the bushes, presumably to lick its wounds and find a less dangerous meal for the night.

Pidge stops to rest a hand on her knee, panting quietly. And then her gaze shifts down, down… a little further down… until it rests on Shiro. Her amber-brown eyes widen ever-so-slightly.

“So I didn’t, uh… realize this was what you meant.”

Shiro keeps an eye on the creature’s escape path even when it’s gone, wary of a surprise attack. But he soon meets Pidge’s gaze with a slightly anxious look on his face.

“...Yes. I’m… kind of having a predicament.”

The two stare at each other awkwardly before Pidge clears her throat and speaks into the comm system. “Hey guys, I found Shiro and got rid of the danger-- yeah, I mean. He’s… He’s, uh. Alright. But we have a slight problem-- no, he didn’t get poisoned. I don’t think so, anyways. He’s a little on the tiny side-- Lance, shut up-- no, no, not like that, I just…”

Pidge pauses to huff in frustration. “It’s hard to explain. Look, we’ll meet you back at the castle, okay?”

She pauses again in what Shiro can only assume as relief-- the others must have agreed-- before she bites her lip and focuses on Shiro.

“Okay, so I’m pretty sure you know this already, but, uh. I’m gonna have to carry you, otherwise we won’t be able to get back to the castle before nightfall.”

Shiro grimaces. Of course he’d realized that while he’d been waiting for Pidge, but it didn’t make things any easier.

Pidge quietly coughs before kneeling down. “So… how are we gonna do this?”

Shiro runs a hand over his face. And then he tentatively approaches Pidge. “Give me your hand,” he sighs, making a beckoning gesture. He nearly flinches when Pidge’s hand comes down and rests palm-up in front of him, but he manages to hold his ground.

Deep breaths, Shiro. You fought huge monsters in the Arena, and even bigger ones in Voltron.

Regardless, he can’t help but feel a touch unnerved as he clumsily climbs up into Pidge’s hand-- as much as he trusts the green paladin, there’s something… wrong about being so tiny in comparison to the smallest paladin, someone he was so used to towering over on a daily basis for the past few months, at least.

Pidge carefully lifts Shiro up once he’s steadied himself, her eyes wide with what can only be described as pure awe.

“This really shouldn’t be possible,” she mumbles as she straightens up. “It completely violates the square-cube law, although… your suit is likely regulating your body temperature so you’re not too cold, so maybe—“

Shiro crosses his arms and sighs. “Pidge, we can discuss the science of how this works when we get back to the castle, alright?”

Pidge clears her throat and adjusts her glasses with her free hand. “Sorry, sorry, you’re right.”

As she starts walking back towards the direction of the castle, Shiro grips onto her thumb to maintain his balance, still looking to be quite unnerved by the whole situation.

“Matt’s gonna freak,” Pidge eventually mumbles to herself, unable to resist a little gleam in her eyes. “It defies the known laws of physics, and… say, Shiro? What happened to… uh. Make you shrink, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Shiro opens his mouth to respond before clicking his tongue and frowning. “I… I don’t remember. I think-- no, I know I was unconscious for at least a few minutes. There was a light, before I blacked out, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary when I came to.”

“And you feel alright?” Pidge questions, looking all the more intrigued by the minute.

“Aside from being extremely weirded out by this entire situation,” Shiro grumbles, “Yeah, I’m doing well enough, all things considered.”

Pidge pauses. She’s never been the best at comforting-- that was more Lance’s forte than anything-- but she shoots him a small smile. “If it makes you feel any better, you have three of the smartest nerds in the galaxy here to help you, plus Allura and Coran might know something. I’m sure we’ll figure out some kind of cure soon, okay?”

As the castle comes into view, Shiro appears to shrink in on himself a little more, his shoulders automatically tensing. “...That would be highly appreciated, yes.”

Pidge winces sympathetically. Of course this entire situation was hard on him-- and, judging from the rustling of foliage nearby, it was about to get even harder. As Hunk and Lance come out into the clearing at about the same time, Pidge instinctively holds Shiro closer to her chest.

“Hey, Pidge!” Lance calls as he quickens his step. “Where’s Shiro?”

Shiro, still looking to be quite agitated, straightens up as much as he can in some instinctive reflex to make himself taller. And then he waves, raising his voice. “Right here, Lance.”

Both the blue paladin and the yellow paladin stop dead in their tracks, jaws all but dropping. And then they both immediately crowd closer, a clamor of questions and wide-eyed stares.

“Whoa, Pidge, really? That… that shouldn’t be possible, according to--”

“Holy crow, Shiro, how’d you get so small--?”

Pidge backs up a step, lifting up her other hand to shield Shiro from the overwhelming onslaught of voices. “Guys, c’mon! Take it easy, one question at a time.”

Shiro shudders and nearly cracks right then and there, a paralyzing sense of anxiety bubbling up in his chest as the three teens loom over him. At least they’ve quieted down and Pidge has lowered her hand, but he can’t tell what’s worse: the clamor of loud noises or the sudden shift to sympathetic looks the three are all shooting down at him.

“Shiro?”

Shiro blinks at the sound of Pidge’s voice, tilting his head in order to look up at the green paladin’s face. “...Mm?”

The look in her eyes is… surprisingly gentle. He’s seen that look before, seen it in the eyes of Sam and Matt alike. His shoulders lower slightly.

“Shiro, it’s gonna be okay,” Pidge murmurs encouragingly. “We’re not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to do. I can put you down, if you want, or… anything. Anything you want. I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but we’re a team. You can trust us-- we’re gonna do our best to find a cure for you, and in the meantime, we’ll do our best to make this whole… thing a little more comfortable for you.”

His focus briefly darts to Lance and Hunk-- both nodding in affirmation and backing up to give Pidge and himself a little more space. Shiro swallows thickly before glancing back up at Pidge.

“...Thank you. All of you.” He does his best to pull a tired smile. “For now, you can… keep carrying me. I’m good.”

Pidge frowns, lifting her hand closer to eye-level. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

And, surprisingly enough… he is.

Pidge was right. They’re all a team-- they’re his family. Of course he trusts them with his life.

Shiro straightens up, a determined glint in his eyes. “I don’t want to fall too far behind all of you, after all. We need to get going right away if we’re going to make this work. Pidge, I need you to bring me to Allura and Coran. We’re going to have to contact Keith so that he can serve as my stand-in while we get this fixed-- we don’t need any sneak attacks from the Galra catching us off-guard because I can’t pilot the Black Lion. Lance, Hunk? I need you two to get Matt. I’m sure if we all put our heads together, we can find out how and why this happened to me… and how to reverse it.”

A noticeable sense of relief lingers in the air, the three paladins at attention as they’re given orders; that’s their Shiro, alright, and it almost brings a sense of normalcy to this entire strange predicament.

As Pidge marches up to the entrance of the castle-- making sure to keep her hand steady for Shiro’s sake-- the black paladin sighs under his breath.

This was going to be a hassle to deal with, for sure, but at least he had his team by his side.

His family.

[chrysanthmilk]

a guide to being death: chapter 6

by staccato

“Death is very, very tired of its Master’s strange wants and whims. This is the last time it does something he wants.”

aka: a apocalypse fix-it, featuring a master of death who has been reincarnated into a winchester. things can only go up from here.

chapter 6: pamela goes blind, but don‘t worry, harry is there to heal her. dean remains unconvinced of castiel’s powers, and challenges him to a gun (and knife!) fight

read it below, or on ao3

*

Harry woke up from his nap when the Impala came to a stop. He stretched, feeling the pop of his bones. “We arrived?”

“Yeah. Come on, imp. Let’s see what this psychic has got for us.”

Pamela Barnes was beautiful, witty, and she was going to die in a few months.

But first, she went blind.

*

The ambulance came quickly. Bobby rode with her to the hospital, while Harry followed along in Bobby’s truck. After he parked, he found Bobby in the waiting room, being questioned by a nurse. She was trying to figure out how Pamela’s injuries came to be, but Bobby avoided answering by speaking rapid Japanese and flailing his arms around. Harry stifled a laugh, and joined him.

The nurse gave up a few minutes later, and they were left to wait in peace.

“I didn’t know you could speak Japanese,” Bobby said, in Japanese.

Harry shrugged, and replied in the same tongue. “It was a boring four months.”

That was true, but that wasn’t when he learned the language. He learned it sometime in the 18th century, when he had been reborn as a peasant farmer. So even though he could speak the language, he couldn’t read or write it. That just hadn’t been a priority for his station in life.

But Bobby didn’t know that, and misunderstood his answer, as Harry had intended for him to do. He squeezed his shoulder, an act of brief comfort, then pulled away.

And, okay, as Harry Winchester, he would have found this acceptable, perhaps even a little too much; but as Harry, the immortal being who had been reincarnated into thousands of lives, it was not. He just insinuated, to his surrogate father no less, that he had learned Japanese to keep busy and avoid thinking about Dean’s death. Shouldn’t he at least get a hug?

But he doubted that this was the best time to open that can of worms, so he kept quiet, fiddling his ring and listening to the angel radio. Castiel seemed to be feeling some smidgen of guilt for burning out an innocent woman’s eyes, and some higher-ups named Zachary was comforting him.

By which he means, Zachary was telling Castiel that humans were nothing more than mud monkeys, who did not deserve an angel’s sympathy.

‘It’s not your fault she foolishly disregarded you warnings and continued with the séance. Really, it was like she was asking to be burnt. And she was being impertinent, anyways, demanding to see your true face.’

‘But…’

‘No buts, Castiel. You’re an angel, she’s a human; we’re superior, and they’re inferior. Do you understand?’

‘…yes, Zachariah. I do.’

Harry closed the connection, shaking his head in silent disgust. And they said angels were supposed to be compassionate.

Why did you leave, Chuck? He wondered. Are you really satisfied with the world, as it is right now? Is it everything you had envisioned?

*

A few hours later, a doctor stepped out, clipboard in hand. “Family of Pamela Barnes?”

He told them that they’ve stabilized her conditions, although it was certain that she’ll never be able to see again. She had been moved out of ICU, and can accept visitors, but only one is allowed in the room at a time.

Bobby went in first, while Harry called his brothers to tell them the good news. The two of them had stayed behind, cleaning away any evidence of the séance. Judging by the sound in the background, they had now relocated to a diner.

“I think we’ll leave pretty soon,” he said. “Save me a milkshake, won’t you?”

“You bet,” Sam said, with the tone of someone who had absolutely no intention of doing so, and hung up.

Well, he was the health nut of this family.

Soon, Bobby came out, and Harry slipped inside. Pamela was lying in the middle of a hospital bed, pale-skinned and weak, nothing like the feisty woman he’d just met, half a day prior. A roll of bandages had been wrapped around her skull, covering her eyes. She jolted when she heard the door open.

“Is that you again, Bobby?” She called.

“No, it’s me. Harry.”

“What do you want?” She asked, words tinted with bitterness. Harry doesn’t blame her. She wouldn’t have lost her eyesight if it weren’t for them.

“I just wanted to apologize,” he said, “and to see if I could fix things.”

Pamela scoffed. “You certainly can’t make things worse.”

Harry moved forward, stopping mere inches from her bed. He raised his hands, hovering them above her eyes, and murmured a spell. Somethings were capital-F fated, which means if he messed with it, he’ll draw attention to the divergence and thus, himself. But her blindness wasn’t—if she had just backed off when Castiel asked, she would have been fine—so Harry healed her.

(He’d even corrected her eyesight, because why not? The woman was going to die in a few months. For putting up with their shit, she deserved to live the rest of her life in 20/20 vision.)

Immediately, Pamela gasped, hands flying up to her face and unraveling the bandages. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the harsh fluorescent lighting. “What…? How did you—what the hell are you, boy?”

Harry shrugged, tucking his hands into his jean pockets. “Well, I’m not a demon, if that was what you were worried about. But you would have known that already, right?”

She studied him, gaze roving from the soles of his shoes to the wispy strands of his hair. “You definitely don’t feel like a demon…and even a demon wouldn’t have been able to do that. It wouldn’t have wanted to, either. But then…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with an exaggerated wink. “For now, why don’t you just think of me as someone with a little extra juice, trying to protect my brothers and fix their mistakes?”

“Do they know?” She pressed. “Does Bobby know?”

“It’s just between you and me for now, love,” he paused, and cocked his head. “Of course, if it’s too big of a secret for you to handle, I can erase your memories.”

She shook her head, shifting away as much as she could, as if an extra feet of space could deter him. “No, no, no, that won’t be necessary. You don’t need to do that, I can keep quiet. I owe you one, right? For the eyes?”

“Sure,” Harry agreed, even as he discretely wiggled his fingers. Now, if she tried to speak of this to anyone, she’ll suddenly find herself mute, though that would only last a day. Still, it’s a neat little spell, just in case someone decided torture the information out of her. After all, this was bigger than things that go bump in the night. Angels and demons were involved, and he knew better than to underestimate either of them. “Well, I’m glad we could reach an agreement, love. Bobby and I will take our leave now. We’ll try not to bother you again.”

“Wait!” she cried out, just as his hands closed around the doorknob. “Do you know…that thing I summoned…do you know what Castiel is?”

“Of course I do,” Harry said, not turning around. “But the less you know, the better off you’ll be. Have a good day, Ms. Barnes.”

*

Harry had no idea what happened between the phone call and them arriving at the motel, but whatever it was, it couldn’t have been good. Because when Bobby pulled up in the parking lot, Castiel was yelling at Dean, trying to tell him that Sam had returned to the diner to kill the demons. Unfortunately, all Dean heard is static and high-pitched ringing, so Castiel was forced to stop, frustrated. Bobby and Harry burst into the room just as the last of the mirrors exploded.

(They were kicked out of the motel, obviously.)

This must have been the straw that broke the camel’s back, though, because Dean announced that he was going to try and summon Castiel. Or, as he knows him, a super powerful, supernatural creature capable of pulling someone out of hell, terrifying the demons, and burning out eyes. He has no guarantee that Castiel won’t harm him at first sight, nor does he have a way of defending himself from such attacks.

And he still wanted to summon him.

What. An. Idiot.

Bobby obviously agreed, peering at Ruby’s knife doubtfully. But like Harry, he also doesn’t want anyone else to be hurt, so he relented, directing his truck to an empty warehouse on the outskirt of town.

“We could really use Sam on this, Dean,” Harry suggested from the backseat.

“Nah, he’ll just try to stop us. He’s better off where he is.”

Well, Harry knew that wasn’t true, but he also didn’t want to explain how he knew, so he kept quiet, twisting his ring.

This time, Dean noticed, zeroing in on the action through the rear view mirror. “Didn’t know you were into jewelries, Henry. Where did you get that from?”

“An old friend gave it to me,” Harry said. “Supposedly, it can bring back the souls of the dead.”

“Oh,” Dean said, and Harry suddenly realized the implication behind his words. He thought about backtracking, about claiming that he never tried to summon Dean’s soul, but he wasn’t sure Dean would believe him.

“Well,” Bobby said, interjecting false cheer into his tone. “At least if this turns out to be a disaster, I can bring you back to kill you again.”

*

It was a disaster.

Harry had presumed that, since Castiel didn’t mean to do Dean any harm, the encounter would go smoothly. They’ll have a chit-chat, Castiel will explain and apologize for his mistakes, and then inform Dean of his role in the upcoming apocalypse. They will part ways, somewhat peacefully.

What a stupid presumption.

The problem began after Bobby completed the ritual, and all them stood back, hands on their respective weapons, waiting for him to appear.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

Harry glanced at the ritual circle, frowning. Bobby definitely did the ritual right, so why wasn’t Castiel responding? Wasn’t he the one who tried to reach out to Dean in the first place?

He tuned into the Radio, and immediately received his answers.

‘…leave a good impression on him.’

‘But I have already impressed my handprint on his arm. Is that not enough?’

‘No, no, it’s a different kind of impress. You want him to like you, right?’

‘It would be an honor to be favored by the Righteous Man.’

‘Exactly, which is why you got to make a cool entrance, okay?’

‘What is this “cool entrance” you speak of? How do I make it?’

Harry left the conversation, biting his cheeks to stop from bursting into laughter. It seemed like they were going to be waiting for a while. He abandoned his spot beside the ritual circle, and jumped up to sit on one of the tables. His gun was returned to its holster.

Dean and Bobby gave him disapproving looks, but eventually, both of them gave in, joining him on the tables. They swung their legs back and forth silently, chocked by the anticipation in the air.

Harry was the first to break. He hopped off the table and headed for the door, waving a pack of cigarette as an explanation. The other two moved to stop him, but he was gone because they could speak.

Leaning against the side of the warehouse, Harry lit up a stick, inhaling and exhaling the smoke gratefully. He had been trying to quit but, fuck, this day had been very, very stressful. Besides, he’s the Master of Death. What’s a cigarette going to do, kill him?

And, because he had been looking up at the bright sky, he saw a sight he was never going to forget.

One second, there had been nothing above the warehouse; in the next, a figure appeared, large wings extending from his back. Harry expected Castiel to land on the roof, perhaps survey the area before entering.

He didn’t.

Instead, he stumbled in mid-flight, rolling down the slanted roof until the concrete gave up, and fell straight down to the ground with a thump.  

Harry gaped.

A second later, Castiel stood up, cocking his head in the direction of the warehouse.

“Why couldn’t I get through?” he muttered to himself, but the night was quiet enough that Harry overheard the words.

He blinked.

Oh.

Castiel must have intended to fly through roof and land straight into the ritual circle, which, to be fair, would have been quite the ‘cool’ entrance. Unfortunately, Bobby had come across an angel-warding sigil in one of his books, though neither he nor the author knew its purpose. Still, he had painted it on the walls, which prevented Castiel from phasing through like he had intended. Instead, he had been tripped up by the ward, and fallen.

Once he and Castiel become friends, Harry was going to give him so much shit for this.

For now, though, he simply wiggled his fingers. The ward disappeared. Castiel frowned harder when he registered the change.

“Whatever,” he said at last, almost petulantly, and blasted the warehouse doors open. He sauntered forward, and the sound of shotguns firing filled the air.

Harry vanished his cigarette—he knew better than to litter, considering the state this planet was already in—and rushed in behind Castiel, who was now looking down at Ruby’s knife in a bemusement. Ruby’s knife, which had been jammed into his heart.

Oh, Dean.

Unconcerned, Castiel pulled it out, letting it drop to the ground with a clatter. The wound healed immediately, and Dean stared, shocked. Bobby, however, jumped into action, swinging a crowbar at Castiel’s head. But Castiel caught it without looking, using the momentum to swing himself around. He touched Bobby’s forehead with two fingers, and sent him to sleep.

Wow, Harry thinks, not even bothering to bring out his gun. That was very, very cool.

“We need to talk, Dean,” Castiel said. “Alone.”

Unwittingly, Dean’s gaze flickered to over his shoulders. Castiel followed his line of sight, to where Harry was standing by the doors. There was the sound of wings fluttering, and Castiel disappeared from view.

“What the hell?” Dean whispered.

Too late, Harry realized what Castiel was planning to do. But by then, Castiel had already landed in front of him, fingers extended to brush against his temple. Unprepared, Harry’s awareness shut down, and he crumpled to the ground, asleep.

*

[lyndsaybones]

In Dreams 15

Chapter 1...Chapter 2…Chapter 3…Chapter 4…Chapter 5 …Chapter 6…Chapter 7…Chapter 8 …Chapter 9...Chapter10… Chapter 11…Chapter 12…Chapter 13...Chapter 14

“I just landed,” he says as he navigates his way out of the jetway.

“Hurry,” she says, her voice echoing.

“I’m coming, I’ll be there in half an hour.”

The terminal is bustling with people, like a churning sea of humanity. He finds he has a little bit of hate for each and every one of them who are slowing his ability to get out of the damned airport and closer to her.

There is a broad thunderhead moving in over the city, cleaving the blue sky in half like a long black curtain drawing. The air smells like impending rain and the heat seems to be dissipating by the minute. He slings his bag over his shoulder and makes his way to the nondescript four door rental car. He steps gingerly as an ache settles into his left leg. He wonders briefly if the healing bones will forever be an amateur forecasting tool.

He eases onto the highway, cars zipping past him at well past the speed limit. He remembers Scully jokingly referring to it as the North Texas Speedway the last time they were in town. He’s glad he remembers things like that now, although he’s not enjoying some of the other things coming back to him as much.

He navigates and finds his way to one of the local hospitals taking in the overflow of bodies and seems to find the morgue by instinct alone. The end of the hallway is guarded by a young man in fatigues with an MP armband. He passes warily and heads for the swinging doors straight ahead. Through the window, he can see her hunched over a microscope, fine tuning the view. Her pale blue scrubs are almost the same color as her eyes. A smile wells up on his face like a bubbling spring. God, he’s missed her.

She looks up and a tiny smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. It fades as quickly as it appeared as she tentatively looks around before waving him in.

He pushes the door open and notes that the room feels significantly cooler than the hallway.

“You okay?” he asks as he walks to her.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she answers as she grabs a pair of gloves and pulls gently on his sleeve. “It’s back here.” “What is?”

He follows her to the back of the room, hovering behind her as she snaps on her gloves and opens the heavy cold storage door. She peers around the room again, clearly concerned that someone may see what they’re up to.

She secures the door behind them and pulls a small tray off of one of the shelves and holds it up in front of him as she removes a small cloth covering it.

He blinks, trying to reconcile what he’s seeing in front of him.

It’s a hand. But it’s not. Not like he’s ever seen anyway.

It looks like an opaque gelatin mold, even the bones are somewhat transparent. Severed at the wrist, it’s obviously been in a fire but the tissue has not responded in the way he knows burnt flesh ought to.

“What the hell is this?” he asks, leaning in for a better look.

“That’s what I asked,” she says with a huff.

“It looks like a jellyfish,” he remarks, stretching back up to his full height. “I assume this was pulled from the building?” he asks.

“In a manner of speaking,” she says as she covers the hand again and places it back on the shelf. “It was lodged in the abdominal cavity of another body,” she explains.

“How did it get there?”

“It was likely projected,” she says with a shrug. “Whatever it is, someone is looking for it.”

“Who?”

“I had four military police officers in here asking if anything unusual had turned up,” she says.

“Unusual how?” he asks.

“They didn’t elaborate, but I’m pretty sure that fits the bill,” she says, pointing a gloved finger at the shelf.

“Why do you think they’re looking for it?”

“To make it disappear,” she says as she pulls off the gloves and directs him out of the freezer.

“So what have you been able to find out?”

“I wasn’t able to retrieve prints, the tissue is too far gone. But the samples I was able to analyze are...disturbing,” she says.

He follows her to the microscope, trailing a couple of steps behind like a lost puppy.

“This body was exposed to a pathogen, I see signs of a massive infection,” she says as she points at a set of slides on the table.

“Is it anything you’ve seen before?” he asks as he leans down and looks into the microscope.

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen,” she says in a menacing whisper.

“How the hell would a body with that kind of infection get into that building?”

“I don’t know, but we’ve got to get those samples out of here,” she says.

“Well, let’s go,” he says as he waves a hand at the door.

“It’s not that simple,” she says. “The kid at the other end of the hall has been checking everyone as they leave.”

“What for?”

“‘Preservation of the chain of custody’ is the line we got,” she says incredulously.

“They think federal officers would smuggle out prosecutorial evidence?”

“Well, they’re not wrong, it just has nothing to do with prosecuting the bombing itself,” she says with a mischievous smile.

“Put the slides in your bra,” he says.

Her brow crinkles and she glances down.

“Plenty of cover in there,” he adds with a grin.

She gives him a withering look, which he loves and fears in equal measure, and frankly, deserves at the moment. But it’s true, the bras have become bigger and more utilitarian in recent weeks. Her breasts seem to be following suit. He can’t act like he hasn’t noticed.

Her mouth tightens and her eyes narrow. He can tell she’s actually considering it.

“Go watch the door,” she whispers as she snatches up the slides.

When she emerges from cold storage he is rocking back and forth on his heels expectantly.

“What about the hand?” he asks.

“How much room do think I have in there?” she asks, exasperated.

“No, I wasn’t saying...geez Scully,” he says with a chuckle. “I mean someone is gonna find it, right?”

“Not likely, I just stuffed it back in that body.”

“I guess that’s one way to get it out of here,” he says with a shrug.

She realizes, as they push through the doors, that her heart is pounding furiously. Her gut begins to churn as the doors squeak as they swing back and forth behind them. She wavers a little and his fingertips drift to the small of her back.They draw closer to the young man at the end of the hall who steps at attention in front of the elevator door.

She can’t help it, she can feel the bile rising at the back of her throat and the angry wave of nausea hitting her full force.

“Scully?” Mulder asks quietly.

“I’m gonna be sick,” she whispers with a gulp.

“You alright ma’am?” the young soldier asks.

“She’s not feeling well,” Mulder says as he wraps an arm over her shoulders.

The young man blinks and looks at her with wide eyes. He’s still blocking the elevator door, however.

“Private,” she says, trying to stifle the rising tide. “I don’t have a bag on me, neither does Agent Mulder. Nothing for you to search. Unless you’d like to invest in a new pair of boots, it might be better to just let us by.”

He looks momentarily panicked, but quickly nods and steps aside, slapping the elevator button with the palm of his hand. The doors ping and open almost instantly and she is immensely grateful.

“I hope you feel better, ma’am,” he says meekly.

“Thank you, Private,” she says as Mulder helps shuttle her into the car.

The doors slide shut and she sags against him.

“You okay?” he asks, holding her more firmly.

“I’m dizzy,” she says, closing her eyes and swallowing thickly.

“I thought you were just trying to distract him” he says.

“It wasn’t intentional,” she whispers.

“Well it worked,” he says reassuringly. “When’s the last time you took your meds?”

She closes her eyes, trying to remember when that might have been. There’ve been so many bodies, so much work, she just doesn’t remember.

“I...I dunno,” she sighs.

“Okay, let’s get back to your hotel,” he says as the doors open.

They take a few short steps together and are out of the main doors and in the cool evening air. The gathering storm looks to unleash a torrent at any moment as lightning crackles through the clouds and thunder rumbles and growls overhead.  

She squirms from his embrace and dashes to the edge of the sidewalk so she can unload her stomach in the grass. Somewhere beyond the rawness in her throat and the involuntary heaving, she can feel his hand on her back, and his fingers pulling her hair away from her face.

“It’s okay,” he says, in dulcet, soothing tones. “You’re okay.”

She coughs and spits, angry that she’s almost used to the bitter tang in her mouth and the acrid smell.

Scully dozes in the car all the way to the hotel, which he is grateful for. The rain started pattering on the windshield almost as soon as he pulled out of the parking garage. As they drive, it is only getting heavier. Cars buzz by them at mach speeds, which he wouldn’t usually mind except for how hard it is becoming to see. Blessedly, they make it without incident and now his only concern is her. Get her inside, get her medicine, get her to bed. Nothing else. The evidence, whatever she’s stumbled upon takes a very distant backseat to her well being at the moment.

“C’mon, Scully,” he says as he reaches out and taps her shoulder.

“Hm,” she sighs as she rubs her eyes.

“We’re here,” he says. “Go on in, I’ll park the car,” he tells her.

She nods and hands him her spare room key as she gets out.

He’s soaked by the time he makes it into her room. She emerges from the bathroom, barefoot, but still in her oversized scrubs. She’s got the stack of slides she smuggled out wrapped in toilet paper in her right hand.

“Oh Mulder,” she sighs, shoulders sagging.

He looks down, shifting his weight from one foot to another and feeling the squish in his socks.

“You’d better get out of those before you catch a cold,” she says as she sets the slides on her bedside table.

“Dr. Scully, you ought to know better than most that a person doesn’t catch a cold from being cold,” he says as she crouches down to untie his shoes.

“Whatever, you’re dripping everywhere,” she says as she sits on the edge of the bed.

“Did you take anything yet?” he asks, shucking out of his soaked shoes and socks.

“Zofran with a Benedryl chaser,” she says with a yawn.

He nods as he peels out of his sodden t-shirt and goes to unbutton his jeans. She doesn’t seem to take much notice as she yawns again and lays down.

“I’ll go see about a room once this stuff dries a little.”

“Oh, don’t bother,” she mumbles. “You can just stay here tonight.”

Down to nothing but his jockeys, he knows he ought to feel exposed, but he doesn’t. He sits on the other side of the bed and watches her for a moment.

“You gonna sleep in those?” he asks as he reaches out and tugs on the sleeve of her top.

“Maybe, they’re pretty comfy,” she says.

“They have blood on them,” he remarks.

She rolls to her side, curls into question mark and opens her eyes.

“Why did you do it?” she asks softly.

He could ask what she’s talking about, but he knows. Why did he take the pills, why did he hide it, why didn’t he tell her what the Gunmen had found? He reaches out and smoothes her hair behind her ear.

“Because I’m a coward,” he says. “I’m sorry, Scully. I really am.”

She closes her eyes and nods, curling in more tightly on herself, becoming even smaller.

“I am too,” she says softly.

“God, Scully. For what?”

“For basically kicking you out,” she murmurs.

“I deserved it,” he says softly.

“We’ve got a lot to figure out,” she says, her eyes drifting shut again.

“We do, but it’ll keep,” he says as he leans in and kisses her forehead.

He didn’t expect her to reach for him, but she does, her hand clutching the back of his neck and ruffling through his hair. She opens her eyes again and as quickly as he connects what’s happening, it’s already happening. Her mouth is covering his fiercely and he can’t help but moan. She unfolds like a flower and wraps around him. He can feel the mound of her little belly bumping up against him, the strong muscles of her thigh as she drapes it over his hip and squeezes. He’s never been one to struggle with getting an erection, but this is probably the fastest he’s ever gone from flaccid to rock hard in his adult life. She levers his mouth open with her tongue and her hand is raking gently through his hair as she conducts a thorough investigation of his dental fillings. He grabs a handful of her rounded ass and she jolts against him with a whimper.

She rolls away, breathless and begins working her shirt up over head. Just as quickly, he is grabbing at the thin cotton of her pants and dragging them down her legs. She shifts fully onto her back and props herself up on her elbows. She looks so different, her now ample breasts, encased in a sturdy beige bra, sitting atop the gentle swell beneath. The alarm bells start going off in his head as he kneels between her knees.

“What?” she says, chest heaving.

“Should we be doing this?” he asks nervously.

She seems to become suddenly self-conscious, drawing her legs up and together, closing off.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” she murmurs. Her eyes dart around, anywhere but to him.

“Scully, no, no, no,” he says, reaching for her. “I mean is it okay for the baby? Safe, I mean?”

He cups her cheek and her skin feels like rose petal. She looks up and he can see what he’s done, a thousand little transgressions and half a dozen big ones are reflected back at him.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he adds.

He watches her for a long moment, the blush across her chest and cheeks, the pulse thrumming under her jaw.

“Then come here,” she says, just above a whisper.