#OH and my blood tests are miraculously fine!! god I feel like I can breathe again

[muddlemore]

Holy shit I love my doctor

[lord-explosion-baku]

Trident Tale part 2

Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader

Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)

Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Original image by @maewoahoah

Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.

By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.

It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.

The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.

It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.

It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.

Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.

“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.

“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.

“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.

“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.

“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”

“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”

“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”

“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.

“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s gonna see you…”

“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”

“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”

“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.

What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”

“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”

Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.

He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.

Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.

“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.

In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.

“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.

“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”

God.

“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”

He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”

After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.

“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”

Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.

“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”

“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.

“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”

Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.

“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”

Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.

“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”

“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”  

What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.

The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.

Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”

Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.

Tricky, magic fish-man.

“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”

The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.

They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.

Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.

“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”

“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”

In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.

“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.

“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”

“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”

“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”

You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”

“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”

Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”

“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”

“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.

“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”

“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.

“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”

It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”

“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”

“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”

“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”

“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”

Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.

I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.

Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.

“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.

At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”

“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.

“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”

“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.

Hitoshi frowns.

“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”

“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.

“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.

“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”

“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”

“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”

“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.

“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”

Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”

“He’s a fish, Denki.”

“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”

“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.

“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”

Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”

“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”

Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.

“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.

“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.

“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.

Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.

“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.

“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”

And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.

“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”

“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”

“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”

“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”

“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”

Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”

The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”

Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”

“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.

“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”

“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”

Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”

“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”

This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”

“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”

“Which would be?”

Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.

“Romantic rendezvous.”

“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”

Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”

You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”

Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.

“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”

Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.

“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”

“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”

Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”

To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.

There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.

“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”

At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.

“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”

“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”

Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.

“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”

“Decided what?” You ask.

“That the two of you are going to help me.”

The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”

“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.

Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”

Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?

Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”

“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”

“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.

On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.

“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”

Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”

“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”

“So good at questions,” you murmur.

“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.

“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”

“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”

“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”

“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.

“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”

Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.

“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”

Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.

However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.

“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there’ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”

The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.

“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”

“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.

“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”

“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”

At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.

“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”

Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.

“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”

“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”

“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”

“I have a boat.”

“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”

“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.

“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.

“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.

“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”

There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.

“So if we help you find these gems—“

“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.

“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”

“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”

“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.

“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”

Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.

“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”

“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”

Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.

“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”

Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.

[uchukiyoo]

Until Death Do Us Part || Hoshi (Kwon Soonyoung) - Seventeen

-TW : Mentions of death, suicide, paranormal stuff and life threatning situations.

-Prompt: You are a Grim Reaper. You come to Seoul to take a boy who had an accident but he miraculously survives. He only has a few months to die, otherwise he will disrupt the world's peace, but as you slowly catch feelings for him, your task gets harder and harder.

-Word count: 500-ish

-Pairing: You x Soonyoung

-Some Precisions :

°There is one POV per chapter.

°First person narrative ("I" = you in Grim Reaper's chapters)

°This fanfic is inspired by the drama Goblin and Korean folklore

-Part : 1 (Chapters 1-2)

1 - One Last Breath

I am a Grim Reaper. Usually, people start off by introducing themselves, but the thing is…I don’t know my name. I don’t even know my age, all in all, I don’t know anything about myself nor my past. I guess it is part of my punishment…

Grim Reapers are people who committed a terrible sin during their life, a sin so horrible that God’s punishment for them is that they’ll spend the rest of their “existence” leading deceased people in the afterlife, knowing about humans’ sins and human lives without knowing about their own.

I don’t know how long I have been a Grim Reaper for. I can’t even remember when nor how I died.

It was December 14th, only one person was on my list today. Kwon Soonyoung, 24 years old. Cause of death: hit and run car accident. Time of death: 11:52pm.

11:45pm. I got ready and put my ring on my pinky finger. This ring prevents humans from seeing Grim Reapers.

In less than one second, I arrived on the premises of the accident. The boy was here, unconscious.

11:52pm.

He is dead and no one could save him, poor boy, he died alone.

I got the name card containing all of his info out of my pocket and got ready to read it for him to confirm his identity.

“Kwon Soonyoung, born on June 15th, 1996, in Gyeonggi province. Do you confirm it is you?”

As I was speaking, I noticed that the body started moving.

What is happening?

My name card and my list suddenly caught on fire and before my eyes, the boy took a long breath.

I’ve never seen this before?? How could he come back to life??

He suddenly opened his eyes, and stared right at me, as if he could see me.

One second later, I was back at the tea-drinking room, where souls drink a beverage that erases all their memories.

This was so weird…how is it even possible?

I looked in the registers, but this kind of even had never been noticed before. I have to report it to my superiors.

“Boss, I’m telling you; he was dead I could see his soul float but then his soul went back into his body, and he started to breathe again!”

“This is indeed very strange…Said my boss, looking into the registers. I think it happened only once before, a long time ago. “

“Really? How?”

We sat down and he got an old register.

“Almost 200 years ago. I was supposed to take a man’s soul but just like what happened to you, everything caught on fire. The Goblin’s fire.”

“The Goblin’s fire? Boss, you met the Goblin before?”

“Yes, the Goblin personally chose to meddle between life and death and saved this man’s life.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know…but one thing I know, is that you will have to follow this man. You will have to take him, for now, his date of death is unknown since he is supposed to be dead. He will disturb the universe’s peace. I don’t know what the Goblin’s intentions were, but we’ll have to figure them out.”

“By any chance, do you know this man’s identity? The one you were supposed to take.”

“Yes, I remember him very well…his name is Kim Minchul.”

“Is?”

“Yes, he is still alive.”

2 - First Encounter

“He woke up, quick, Nurse Choi!” Call the doctor.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw a crowd of people looking at me.

The room was very bright, probably because everything was white in here…

I hate hospitals…I thought, as I tried to sit up.

“No no no young man, you have to stay still until the doctor arrives.” Said a nurse, forcing me back in place.

“What happened?” I asked, after taking a deep breath.

“You got hit by a car a few nights ago. Someone found you and called the ambulance, you miraculously survived even though you lost a lot of blood and were at the brink of hypothermia. You can thank your guardian angel.” She replied, as the doctor entered.

“Mister Kwon, glad to see you awake! How are you feeling?”

He looked quite young, and I had to admit, he was very charismatic.

“I am…okay…just a little confused.”

“See, your case really is a mystery…you came here with several broken ribs, a fractured arm and ankle and a concussion but everything seems to have healed overnight. You are a medical mystery Mister Kwon. If you are okay with it, I would like to keep track of your recovery and maybe run a few tests.”

“Huh…yes okay”

“Great, I’ll give you my business card, if everything is fine you can get discharged after a quick check up.”

He got out and the nurse examined my body before declaring that I could go.

“I’ll let you get dressed Mister Kwon. You can go directly to the reception desk to sign the papers.” She said before going out.

I stood up and looked for my clothes.

Someone brought me new clothes…

As I was putting on the brand-new clothes, the room suddenly became colder.

I turned around and noticed a woman, all dressed in black, standing in the corner of the room.

“Ah you scared me! Who are you? Why are you in my room??” I asked, as I quickly put my shirt on.

She looked at me with a confused and scared look on her face.

“Y-you can see me???” She said, walking towards me.

“Well of course why the hell wouldn’t I see you…it doesn’t explain why you are in my room though! How did you even enter?”

She started mumbling to herself: “it’s not good, not good at all…not good. He must have been marked”

“What isn’t good? Are you okay miss??

“You’re not supposed to see me.”

“What are you on about? I don’t get it!” I was starting to get upset. Something was definitely wrong with her and for some reason, I felt like I saw her somewhere.

“Wait a minute…I recognize you. I-I saw you, the day of the accident, you were there! It’s you I recognize you!”

“So, you really did see me…”

I was about to reply but a nurse came inside and gave me the doctors business card.

“Oh, why is it so cold in here? Please keep this, I gave Doctor Choi your number. He will contact you soon.”

Why is she acting like this girl isn’t here?

“She can’t see me nor hear me” replied the girl, seeing my confused face.

“What do you mean by that? Why do you keep on saying this?!”

“Because of this ring I am wearing. It prevents humans from seeing me.” She said, showing me her hand.

“Tsk tsk …and what are you if you’re not human? Huh?”

“A grim reaper.”

[haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles]

Asahi x fem!reader

(informally known as bby boy on my Google Docs)

Summary: Asahi just wants to impress you when the two gym classes combine and the activity just so happens to be volleyball. Little does he know, his plan to impress you goes awry in the worst way possible. Or so he thinks...

A/N: pls enjoy this fluffy Asahi scenario that I wrote with my best friend who helps me sort through all my ideas and is there for me always LOVE U 💕

- J

~

“It has come to my attention that coach Ito is home sick today, so coach Saito will be taking both classes today.”

Your head whips up at the announcement, eyes immediately wandering to a certain ace of the men’s volleyball team that you’ve had a pathetically massive crush on since first year. And you’ve never once been in the same gym class—miraculously—otherwise you think you’d have already made a fool of yourself in front of him. You’re not the most athletic person on the planet, and since Asahi must be a top athlete, there’s no reason for him to even notice you in the first place.

As long as you’re not playing volleyball, you think you can survive it. Please—please let it be anything else but volleyball.

~

Your heart sinks upon walking into the gym, the volleyball net strung proudly across the court.

Just kill you now. Either your heart will explode from watching him up close, or from being so nervous that you’re going to look like a complete idiot. He must tone it down for gym class, right?

Across the court, you think Asahi is standing there calm, and collected; but little do you know he feels like his intestines are tying themselves into knots from his nerves. He might be able to pull it together on the court, his mind fixated on winning, but with you here as his opponent he’s not going to be able to focus.

Only adding to his nerves, Suga and Daichi are not helping in the slightest. Having known about his crush on you since first year, they’re egging him on that this is his opportunity to impress you. Of course, he wants to impress you, but he’s unsure if he can—or rather, if he should. This is just gym class, not some high stakes game at a tournament.

Suga assures him that he’ll get him an opening. He ‘guarantees’ by the end of the hour, you’ll be head over heels for him.

Not knowing you already are. You certainly don’t need any help in that department.

True to his word, Suga does get him an opening. A perfect one in fact, in the form of a flawless set. So perfect, that as the ball connects with his hand, he can just feel how good his spike is going to be. It might be a little much for gym class, but it’s just this once; and he hopes you’re watching.

You are watching, kind of, from the back row where you’ve been trying to stay out of the way and touch the ball as little as possible. And you’ve allowed yourself to slip into a daze at Asahi’s perfect form, seemingly floating through the air as his hand connects perfectly with the ball. So entranced that you don’t even notice where the ball is going.

Directly at your face.

It’s then that Asahi realizes it too.

Please duck. For the love of god, please duck.

To his horror, you just stand there, completely unaware that you’re about to get nailed in the face. His entire being shrivels up as the audible sound of it smacking your face resounds throughout the now quiet gym. The force of it sends you flying backward onto your ass, abruptly knocking you out of your daze. Voices of worry begin to fill the silence, and as you blink your eyes open, squinting at the bright gym lights, you realize that the entire gym class has surrounded you sprawled out on the floor. The first thing that comes to your attention is the unbearable throbbing of your nose, and a tentative touch to it reveals that it’s bleeding.

Coach Saito pushes through a throng of students, concern strewn across his face. “Take it easy, don’t get up too fast.”

Asahi’s instinctive reaction is to crouch on the floor, weighed down by his guilt, hands covering his face in shame. How could he have done that to you?! He was only trying to impress you, not break your nose! One of Daichi’s hands comes to rest on his shoulder, quietly reassuring that it can’t be that bad while kicking Suga behind Asahi’s back to stop him from snickering that of course Asahi hit you in the face. Just his luck.

Slowly, you sit up with Coach Saito’s help, a little blood falling from your nose before he can hand you a tissue to staunch it. Asahi thinks he might throw up seeing it drip to the floor. There’s no way in hell you’re ever going to like him now!

“Take a breath, Asahi, it’s just a nosebleed,” Daichi whispers, nudging him to get to his feet.

He takes in a sharp breath, unable to breathe properly with the weight on his chest. Abruptly, he stands, bows, and shouts at the floor, “I’m so sorry!”

You chew on your lip, unsure how to handle having his undivided attention on you. Smiling sheepishly, you assure him, your voice muffled from the tissue pressed to your nose, “It’s alright Asahi-san, I’ll be okay.”

Coach Saito sighs loudly before instructing, “Why don’t you take her to the nurse, Asahi.”

His horror morphs into unease that he has to be alone with you after nearly breaking your nose not two minutes ago. In what world is him taking you to the nurse the best option? He’s the reason you have to go at all!

At this rate, Daichi knows Asahi is spiraling into a pit of despair and it’s going to be his job to drag him up out of it. Unsure if this will help or make it worse, Daichi murmurs “You can turn this around, use this time alone with her to your advantage!” And with that, shoves him forward to at least give him a physical stimulus out of his pity pit.

Asahi gives them a pleading look over his shoulder, only to be met with a reassuring expression from Daichi—and a terrifyingly stern one from Suga just behind him. With a look like that from Suga, he knows he has no choice in the matter. Taking a deep breath, he forces his feet to move towards you. He feels like his joints are creaking with each step he takes, screaming at him to stop, for he knows he’s only going to embarrass himself further by being alone with you. 

You watch him carefully as he extends his hand down to you, unsure if you’re imagining his stiffness. One thing you’re certain you’re not imagining is how you think you might pass out from how hard your heart is pounding against your chest. Being alone with him? Sounds like a dream in theory, but in all honesty, you don’t know if you’re going to be able to say a single word to him. 

He pulls you to your feet, steadying you as you stand, afraid the sudden movement might make you faint. “You alright?” He asks softly, so close to your ear you almost jump. You’ve never been this close to him before, and while you knew he was tall, you feel tiny beside him. 

Doing your best to curb the heat crawling up your neck and threatening to color your cheeks, you stutter, “Y-yes, I’m alright.” You then realize your hand is still clasped in his, dwarfed by the size of it. It’s nearly impossible to stop the redness blooming across your cheeks; Suga and Daichi are beside themselves watching the scene unfold. It becomes clear to them that not only can Asahi turn this around—he has a real chance with you. 

Slipping your hand out of his, you assure him that you’re fine to walk without help, and you both make your way out of the gym. The two of you walk in silence, not knowing what to say to each other, until inevitably Asahi becomes consumed by guilt and abruptly apologizes to you yet again. 

He nearly keels over at the small smile you give him, accepting his apology and telling him, “It’s okay, honest.” Comfortable silence befalls the two of you again until you reach the nurse’s office. 

Once inside, you explain to the nurse what happened—and Asahi is eternally grateful you don’t explicitly say who hit you in the face. He wouldn’t be able to look the nurse in the eye if he knew the culprit. The nurse instructs you to sit while he goes to find an icepack and some other supplies. While you wait, your eyes wander to Asahi standing awkwardly in the doorway. 

He’s unsure if he should stay or not. Would it be weird if he did? You probably don’t even want him to stay, since he’s the reason you’re here in the first place. Yeah—he should leave. 

But as he makes his move, he’s surprised to hear your voice muffled by the paper towel shoved against your nose say, “Can you stay?” 

Not only is he surprised, you are as well. Did you really just say that?! You’re not doing a very good job of keeping your crush a secret! You bite your lip, wondering if he’s going to grant your request, hoping with all your heart he will. 

His heart skips a beat in his chest, causing his steps to pause. So, he takes a seat beside you, reflexively apologizing for what feels like the millionth time since walking you here. He can’t muster the courage to look at you, eyes glued to his hands currently clasped in his lap. You notice his knuckles are white from how hard he’s holding them together. 

Is he...nervous? 

You open your mouth to say something, after all, when is the next time you’re going to find yourself with him alone? But you’re interrupted by the nurse returning and conducting a few tests to make sure you don’t have a concussion. 

Ten minutes later, you’re cleared to go with just an icepack and some ibuprofen. As you gather your things, Asahi thinks he better make the best out of his remaining time with you. But the only thing he can manage is a stale, “I’m really sorry. I’m glad you’re okay though.” 

You seem unbothered by his impulsive apologizing, giving him another smile, chuckling, “It’s okay. I’m sure you weren’t aiming for me, right?” 

His face flushes without his permission and he’s certain he’s going to pass out from how fast his heart is racing right now. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he stumbles, “Oh, uh—no, I—I wasn’t.” He closes his eyes, wondering if he can garner the courage to confess what he was really doing. “I was...actually...trying to impress you.” He quickly mumbles the last few words, hoping you’ll think nothing of it. 

You blink, stunned at what you think you’ve just heard. Did he just...say...he was trying to impress you?! You can’t help the grin that spreads across your lips, and his eyes widen, completely unsure what this reaction means. It’s then that you start laughing, and he really doesn’t know what to do with that. Are you—amused?

“Impress me?” You giggle. “You don’t have to do anything to impress me, I mean—look at you!” You gesture wildly in his general direction, the image of him floating through the air to spike the ball with the power of the ace behind him flooding your mind. 

His mouth drops open. 

Your heart slams to a halt in your chest. Did you really just say that...out loud? “Oh—oh, I didn’t—,” your voice falls silent, totally embarrassed that you just actually said that to him. Even worse when a small smile lights up his face. 

“Would you want to come to a volleyball game sometime?” 

Your throat dries up and a small voice inside you urges you to say yes. 

So, you do.

[isis-astarte-diana]

The Grave’s A Fine And Private Place (Part 1)

Part 1 ‖ Part 2

Summary: "You realise too late how careless you’ve become. It’s easy to forget, striding out of the miraculous console room and into a new day’s folly, just how thin the skin is that separates you from the grave." Missy’s atonement test doesn’t quite go to plan.

Warnings:  SFW. Swearing, mild peril, guns and violence. As always, MIHOW.

Word Count: 1105

Notes: Oh, my god! A multi-part fic?! Yes, because I wanted to prove that I actually am writing it, instead of making you wait until it’s finished. I’m terrible at writing action scenes, so this first half is probably not very exciting, but I promise there’s more to come! You can consider this a reader-insert World Enough And Time fix-it because Bill does not die!

“Which of you is human?”

You can feel Bill’s heartbeat through her hand. The skin of her palm is clammy against your own, her fingers locked around yours so tightly that you can’t tell whether she's shaking or just reflecting your own tremors back at you. You risk a glance at her.

Her wide eyes are mapping the space between the Doctor’s chest and the barrel of the stranger’s gun. You can see the tightening of her jaw when she makes her choice. Her gaze flicks over your face, just for a moment, and you nod jerkily, hoping that you look less than half as frightened as you feel.

“Us!” She calls out quickly, as if she’s racing against her own changing mind. “Us, we- we are. We’re human. It’s just us, we’re the only ones.”

You inch closer, your side flush with hers, seeking comfort in the warmth of your best friend. Between your bodies, your fingers lace together as the alien whips around and aims his weapon squarely at you.

“Please, stop this.” There’s desperation in the Doctor’s voice like you’ve never heard before, but it’s muffled by the deafening rhythm of your pulse in your ears. It’s not as if this is the first time you’ve found yourself staring into the business end of a futuristic firearm - that much has become a fixture of your weekend trips in the TARDIS - but something feels different today. In the back of your mind, Bill’s words echo in a mocking, punishing loop, an earworm that makes your stomach coil with dread.

“Just promise you won’t get us killed, yeah?”

The memory of how you'd scoffed and wrapped your arm around her shoulders makes you wince. You realise too late how careless you’ve become. It’s easy to forget, striding out of the miraculous console room and into a new day’s folly, just how thin the skin is that separates you from the grave.

Now you can feel it acutely. There’s a phantom pain in your chest, squeezing at your heart just where the laser-barrel points. Selfishly, you hope that he shoots you first.

“I’m sorry.” Judging by the weak tremor in his shooting arm, you believe him. His face is a mask of wild panic. “I’m so sorry, but you’re the reason that they’re coming.”

“Put it down.” The Doctor moves towards him, hands raised in surrender. The practised sharpness in his voice falls flat. There’s no comfort to be found in the desperation and defeat that comes off him in waves.

An electrical whine as the weapon primes. “They won’t come if these two are dead.” A whimper; you, or Bill, or both. As she squares her shoulders beside you, you can almost hear it, the universe’s most hollow victory.

I fucking told you so.

You’re dimly aware that the Doctor is speaking, reaching out, doing all that he knows how to even though it’s clearly not enough. Staring into the barrel, you think of home. You wonder what century you’re in. You wonder how much it will hurt. This was always how it would end, you think. You just hadn't expected it to be now.

The stranger takes a deep breath. You want to close your eyes, not to have to watch the shot coming, but none of your muscles are listening to you now. Your fingers are crushing Bill's.

Another breath. He winces. Behind you, the three occupied lifts are whirring, inching closer to the bridge where you stand. Your mouth is dry.

His face twists in pain and his free hand flies up to his throat, clutching, clawing.

Something's wrong.

"Missy!"

The Doctor's voice rings out like the anticipated gunshot, making you jump. The stranger isn't looking at you anymore - he's jerking his arm around, aiming the gun in Missy's face as he wretches and gasps for breath.

"You're on thin ice as it is, my dear, but if you shoot me that'll really piss me off."

She's still draped across the navigator's chair, umbrella in hand and pointed at the alien's chest.  Her face is a careful mask of indifference but she's white-knuckled on the crook of the handle. Her other hand braces on the leather cushion so that she can shift her weight, leaning in towards the weapon, unflinching.

"What are you doing? Let him go!"

She ignores the Doctor. "You've got a bionic lung, haven't you?" She raises an eyebrow. He can't respond, still choking, legs quivering and eyes bulging as his strength begins to fail. "I'm draining the battery."

"You'll kill him, Missy."

"Yes, that was rather the point.” He's starting to wobble where he stands, the gun shaking furiously, his head swooping around in blind panic. You can see the blood vessels burst in his eyes, flooding the whites with an unearthly shade of purple.

"Stop this, both of you! There's no need for this!" The Doctor pleads, his hands clasped as if in prayer. He comes as close as he dares, not wanting to light the tinder between them. "I can shield their life signs, we can help you!"

You yelp when there's a sharp tug on your hand. Bill pulls you towards the TARDIS, a deer finally free of the headlights, survival instinct kicking in and demanding that she hide in the only safe place she knows. You stumble with her, letting her drag you through the doors, but when she tries to close them you wedge your body in the space to keep them open.

"Come on," she hisses, but you shake your head. You're transfixed by the horror playing out in front of you. She cries out, enraged and adrenaline-filled, and leaves you be. From the corner of your eye you can see that Nardole has also made it back into the console room in the midst of the excitement.

The stranger's legs have buckled beneath him now. He grasps at the chair Missy still sits in, struggling to reach her with weak limbs, barely clinging onto the gun.

"That's enough, Missy!" The Doctor reaches for her umbrella but she jerks it away, losing her aim as she does so.

Everything else seems to happen in the same half-second.

The stranger climbs to his knees, both hands back on his weapon, and lifts it just above his shoulders. There's a deafening shriek of electricity and a burst of white-hot light and Missy's umbrella clatters to the floor, her body listing to one side, the momentum of the shot sending the chair rolling back a few feet. The Doctor shouts something indecipherable, lurching forwards, arms closing around the kneeling alien.

Behind them all, three sets of lift doors open.

[lizzy-of-the-valley19]

Fall From Grace, Right Into Your Arms.

Summary: An angel had fallen out of the sky, straight into his arms. Her lovely, glittering amethyst eyes met his wide, soulful, burgundy ones. She thought of how they reminded her of the sky at the blush of dawn. And at that moment, something within them sparked a brand new start on feelings they never knew existed. Oh, how she felt wonderstruck right then, marveling at how pretty his eyes were..." Or rather, this one time where Tsuyuri Kanao's 'superior motor reflexes' did not work. Set in Kimetsu Gakuen AU.

Note: This is very self-indulgent so here’s my first take on one certain sunshine lad and butterfly lass. Shoutout to @sparkleswritings​ for being so patient with me on beta-reading this work. thaaaaankkkk youuuuu so much I couldn’t have done this without your help T_T Also, thank you very much Manu of @tankanaweek2020​ for kindly giving me permission to use the prompts and motivating me to greenlit this! And I’m sooo sorry this came in verrry late and for some marginal errors! But better late than never, right?  Hope you enjoy lovelies! :D

----------

She thought this was the end.

Time flowed around her as if in slow motion yet fast, all at once. The girl was startled by a loud ‘snap!’ from a loose tree branch that she has been holding on to guarantee her safe descent from the cherry tree. And just her luck, she suddenly lost her footing and slipped. With a startled yelp, gravity took over her body as Tsuyuri Kanao felt herself slip away from her hold. For once, her fast reflexes and nimble body were rendered useless when her anxiety suddenly kicked in.

She'll have some broken bones, a few bruises, and cuts, maybe even some blood (she hopes not) all over her body. Her Kanae nee-san would be worried sick and would fuss over her nonstop. Shinobu nee-san would still do the same but she'll give her one hell of a lecture full of poisonous quips. And oh dear, Kanao does not want that. They would skin her alive, that's for sure if she had not died here first.

Had she lived a life with no regrets? Were the last sixteen years of her existence worth it? Will she meet her biological parents in heaven? What or who would she reincarnate into, she wonders. Would the words "Cause of death: A bad fall due to a misstep from a broken branch of a cherry blossom tree" be etched forever in her death certificate? She feels ashamed, this is embarrassing compared to those who died fighting disease and war!

At least those baby sparrows didn't get hurt and were placed back safe and sound , she hoped that their mother would find her nest soon. Kanao doesn't mind if she'd die knowing that she'd rescued something or someone. What a pretty sight, the last thing that she sees on Earth is this old cherry blossom tree in full bloom.

Ah, perhaps that she might become a spirit and haunt this tree to watch over her sisters and the other students at her school. Is this one of those, "When your whole life flashes before your eyes," moments that she has often heard from movies or books?

But here she was right now, her face and skin getting scratched from tree branches and her body was slowly hurtling towards the ground from a 30-foot drop. As she braces for impact, she instinctively wraps her arms closer over her chest, scrunching her eyes shut as the ground approaches nearer and nearer.

How did she get into this mess anyway?

*20 minutes earlier*

"Kanao, I'll be going home earlier today. Mom needs me to help her at the diner because you know… today's Friday and more customers are going to pour in during suppertime. Are you sure you're gonna be okay on your own?" Kanzaki Aoi queried her friend as she adjusted the straps of her bag, slightly worried at her. Club sessions were already done several minutes ago, and the two had just finished cleaning the clubroom.

Kanao shook her head, smiling a bit. "Thank you, Aoi. Besides, I'll be fine! I'll just wait for Shinobu nee-san when she's done with her club activities. I'll lock up the clubroom for today." Aoi was about to say something when a sudden chime made the pigtailed girl flinch, fishing out her phone from her skirt pocket.

"Oh dear, Mom's already calling for me! Gotta run now, bye! And tell Shinobu-sama I said congratulations on passing her exams!" She began to dash to the door, muttering about 'orders' and 'customers'.

Kanao waved at her retreating figure, slightly amused at her friend's antics.

Shortly after Aoi left, the clubroom seemed to be quieter now. The distant holler of the students from sports clubs doing their drills outside is all she can hear at that moment.

Oh… she's now all alone. She still has a bit of time on her own.

Kanae nee-san was still at the meeting with the faculty. Shinobu nee-san, meanwhile,  was still at the Biology room where she convened with the rest of her fellow Pharmaceutical Club members, no doubt testing another poisonous chemical that they had just concocted with ingredients only-God-knows-where came from.

Gathering her things, she exited the Flower Arrangement Clubroom and locked it.

‘Perhaps I'll go to the old cherry tree at the back of the school.’ she mused.It was spring, after all, and she wanted to see what it would look like when it blooms in full swing. The sun was already setting, casting the sky in a rosy hue, basking her surroundings in a warm, golden glow.

By the time she had arrived there, she felt her breath take away at the lovely sight before her. The delicate pink petals fell to the ground like snow, their scent bringing in the fragrance of the new season. The windy breeze swayed the branches slightly, dancing along the springsong. Spring was indeed her favorite season. The flowers blooming, the sweet sakura mochi that she and her sisters would always share while celebrating Hanami, and the warm weather were the few things that she loved about spring. Kanao feels her heart swell with bliss. For her, such moments like these are the ones she cherishes the most.

She also remembered, her sisters would always fawn over spring, gushing that this season was the best time to fall in love for the first time-

"Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!"

"Eh? Birds?" A loud chirping noise interrupted her train of thoughts. A few feet away from her, a fallen nest of baby sparrows laid haphazardly on the ground, no doubt being blown away by the wind. It seems that the thick carpets of grass and cherry blossom petals had somehow cushioned the nest's fall, miraculously rendering the chicks still alive and yet.. Helpless. The girl approached the nest and picked it up gently, making sure the little birds wouldn't get hurt in the process.

"Poor little things. I'll bring you guys back up to the tree, I'm sure your mother is looking for you..."

She craned her head from left to right, checking to see if anybody was around. It would be very improper of her to climb a tree if someone saw her - she'll be damned if it was Tomioka-sensei, their P.E.teacher, and school disciplinarian. The latter had the reputation of hunting rule-breakers like a crazed shark on shallow waters. And she was still dressed in her school uniform with an above-the-knee skirt. If some poor unfortunate soul would see what's under it, she'd made sure that they would never see the light of the day again.

After making sure that no one was indeed around, she slipped off her loafers and started to climb the tree while her one hand held the nest securely. Luckily the tree's trunk had a lot of bumps so it is easier for her to climb the way up. Though she did struggle a bit along the way, she reached near the canopy of the cherry tree successfully.

"There." She spotted a nearby branch dotted with buds, thick and sturdy enough, she remarked. "That'll hold them." she thought, and she pulled her body up to the said branch, sliding the nest to the branch until the twigs held them secure. Kanao smiled, feeling accomplished that she put the baby birds back where they belong.

Now that both of her hands are free, she moved to begin her way down. But suddenly her sock-clad foot took a misstep on a knobby part of the trunk and the branch that she held on to broke. Unfortunately, it was a thin, hollow branch and it broke on her tight grip. Shoot, she should've removed her socks back then to avoid her from slipping. But it was too late - losing her balance, Kanao felt her right hand getting scraped as she slipped off the branch, her body slowly hurtling to the ground the same way the cherry blossom petals fell…

*Back to the present*

No,no,no,no,no,no,no… These words were repeated on her mind like a broken record. This is it, she's going to die, this is the end. But a part of her wished that she wouldn't die yet. She wanted to see her older sisters again, to spend more time with them. With her fellow club members, Aoi, everyone…

"WATCH OUT!" She heard a voice from somewhere down below, but what happened next was not one that she was expecting.

The sudden thud of a fallen branch, the wind picking up, and a person groaning and wincing in pain-

Instead of falling onto the hard, solid, grass-covered ground, she felt two strong arms holding her back and the back of her knees. She landed on a body, a man’s to be exact, judging by the hardiness of it. She gripped his broad shoulders a bit too strongly, her body instinctively seeking an anchor to hold on to. She still scrunched her eyes shut, adrenaline pumping in her veins wildly, her breathing ragged.

"Are you alright, Miss? That was quite the fall that you had..." the words died by his throat as Kanao snapped her eyes open. This time, she felt her breath taken away for the second time that day the moment their eyes met.

Her (unexpected) savior was a young man about her age; with messy, slicked back maroon hair, a noticeable scar on his forehead, and hanafuda earrings dangling on his ears. But one feature that stood out the most is his eyes - wide, soulful burgundy ones that reminded her of the sky in the blush of dawn that seemed to shine against the sunset's golden rays. He stared at her with his lips parted, almost in disbelief that this random beautiful girl fell right into his arms.

As if on cue the wind picked up once more, sending the petals scattering on a graceful dance on the air. Her heart thumping wildly, all she can hear is her heartbeat ringing loudly in her ears. She and this handsome stranger looked at each other, her wide amethyst eyes meeting his dawn-red ones. Their faces were only centimeters apart, noses almost touching. She was rendered wonderstruck, marveling at how lovely his eyes were, his gaze was magnetic and deep as if they saw each other's souls at that moment, beckoning-

The school's last bell snapped them out of their reverie, breaking whatever spell that was cast in that ephemeral moment. The realization hit them like a ton of bricks as she just processed what happened: she crash-landed on some random guy and fortunately caught her ungraceful fall from the tree. With a yelp, she flailed off his arms and the young man grunted with an 'oof!' but still he helped her down, albeit a bit too unceremoniously.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!!! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She flailed, oh dear spirits, she hoped that whoever caught her was alright or she has broken anything! Really, what was she thinking?!

"No, no, no, it's really alright! I'm okay!" The young man in front of her flailed his arms as he helped her up. Their eyes met again, this time a hint of crimson dusted their cheeks. The two instinctively averted their eyes, too embarrassed at the events that just happened. For her being caught by a random stranger was rather shameful and for him, he was rather flustered of the girl before him.

A few beats later, Kanao gathered herself. She slipped her loafers back on and gathered her bag from the ground. With newfound courage, she apologized to him once again. "I'm sorry! I've crash-landed on you… Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Did something break? I'm very, very sorry!"

To her surprise, he chuckled. "It's okay, I promise! Don't worry, I've had worse. I have a friend who loves to roughhouse with me and boy, it's like I'm fighting with a wild bear or a four-legged beast!"

"I... I see..." Kanao raised her hand but she suddenly flinched, feeling a sudden shot of pain, particularly at her right palm.

"Your palm, it's bleeding..." He noted, and she raised it. He was right - a gash was blooming on it, slightly bloodied due to the broken branch that she held on mistakenly earlier that caused her (literal) downfall. Thank goodness there were no splinters. She touched her wound gingerly, wincing at the slight pain. "Ow..."

"If you don't mind, can I tend your wound for a bit?" The red-haired lad implored. Kanao was about to refuse when he fished out a handkerchief with a forest green and black checkered design from his pocket.

"Don't worry, this one's clean! My little sister, Nezuko, made this handkerchief by herself! This should stop the bleeding in the meantime," He stepped closer to her. Then he proceeded to wrap her wounded palm gently, making sure that it's not too tight. "There we go..all done!"

"Th-thank you….” she timidly thanked him, gently prodding her newly wrapped palm.

"It's no problem at all!" He cheerily replied. She looked up to him and he gave her a radiant grin - the kind where his eyes crinkled at the corners, the dimples on his cheeks showing. Kanao felt her heart skip a beat.

'He's such a kind person… He looks adorable with that smile of his-'

Wait, what?

"By the way... what were you doing up there in the tree?" he queried with his brows raised, pointing at the canopy above them.

"Oh! I.. uh.. I was returning the baby sparrows' nest there," she said, motioning for him to follow where she pointed on a branch that's quite… high. She gulped, he wasn't kidding that she'll quite have an incident, heaven forbid. Right now, the mother sparrow was now back on the nest, feeding her chicks with the food she brought for them.

"I see! Good thing I just came by, I was just about to head to the front gate! Who knows what could've happened to you or the nest, I mean, that's quite the drop, don't you think? You should be extra careful next time!" he chided her, but with no bite. His light-hearted tone somehow reminds her of Kanae nee-san admonishing her sometimes.

"I couldn't just leave them here on the ground..." Kanao trailed off, pushing a stray strand to her ear. She looked shyly at him.

"Oh… You're very kind to animals, Miss... Ah, I forgot to introduce myself! I'm Kamado Tanjirou, a first-year student! Nice to meet you! " He bowed, albeit sloppily, and took out his hand, which made the girl in front of him giggle.

"Tsuyuri."

"Eh?"

"Tsuyuri Kanao. Second-year, member of the Flower Arrangement Club. Um..." she gathered herself, "Thank you! For.. um, catching me, I mean. And for treating my wound!" she frantically clarified, and took his extended hand.

"You're very welcome, Tsuyuri-senpai..." Tanjirou's crooked yet bright smile once again graced his features, directed at her only. Once their hands made contact that inexplicable tingly and fluttery sensation coursed through their veins once more.

It’s like earlier, the moment our eyes first met.  

They just stood there, his dawn-red eyes meeting her amethyst ones, both of their lips drawn into a soft smile. In that ephemeral moment, she felt something piercing her heart, perhaps the season was getting on to her. She must admit, this feels nice…. Is this what her sisters meant about spring?

He was the first one to relinquish his hand from her hold. For some reason, she's now missing the warmth in her hand.

"It's gonna get dark soon, we should head home, huh?" She heard him mutter. She silently agreed, now trailing beside him. Leaving one last glance at the blooming tree, they left the place together. Tanjirou was now enthusiastically talking about bread and the bakery that his family owns. As they approached the school gates, Kanao already spotted her two elder sisters there, waiting for her.

"Oh, Kanae nee-san and Shinobu nee-san's already there," she remarked.

"They're your sisters?!" Tanjirou exclaimed.

"That's right!" she quipped, giggling a bit at his bewildered expression.

"Yoo-hoo, Kanao! And oh my, Kamado-kun too!" Kanae cheerily waved at them. Shinobu greeted them with a smile too. But when she spotted Kanao's wrapped right hand, her eyebrows shot up. She looked at her little sister in question. Kanao pursed her lips guiltily, mouthing "Later."

"Well then, I'll be taking my leave now! I'll see you next Monday, Kochou-sensei! Shinobu-senpai! And..." Tanjirou paused to look at her, smiling crookedly at her again. "Tsuyuri-senpai!" With a wave, the red-haired lad trotted off.

Kanao waved at him, whispering, "Take care..."

Once Tanjirou was out of earshot, two pairs of hands immediately fell to her shoulders and she turned to see her two sisters smiling sweetly at her. Kanae's eyes were shining with excitement and joy. Shinobu, meanwhile, smiled at her graciously too, but her expression literally said, “Explain or I’ll extract from it to you forcibly”.

Oh no. Once intrigue swept over them, they would never stop.

"My oh my Kanao. Care to tell the story between you and Kamado-kun, hmm? And what's up with your wrapped hand?" Shinobu said sweetly but laced with a little apprehension.

"Ahh! Shinobu, spring has finally come for our cute little sister, I'm so proud of her~! Let's eat some sakura mochi for dessert later, we have lots to celebrate for tonight!" Kanae passionately declared while she grabbed Kanao in a one-armed hug.

"Nee-san! We have to treat her wound first!" Shinobu said exasperatedly, raising her little sister's hand for her to see.

"Oh my~! Kamado-kun did a great job patching her up, no? I'll give him some extra points in the next class for this! He deserves a reward for treating our cute little sister~!" Kanae ignored her younger sister's quips, too excited that her Kanao had finally found a friend of the opposite sex (and a potential little brother too!)

"Isn't that a bit too much, nee=san? And you, Kanao, I didn't know you're now canoodling with rule-breakers? I see that boy running into trouble with Tomioka-sensei all the time!" Shinobu quipped.

"N-no! It wasn't anything like that!" Kanao stammered, her cheeks and ears now fully red.

Kanae giggled. Then she wrapped her arms around their shoulders, with Shinobu on her left, and Kanao on her right. "Let's go home now shall we? We can tell each other's stories tonight! I'm also curious about what happened to you Kanao. Shinobu, take it a little easy for our little sister, she's now starting to bloom and broke out of her timid shell!"

The two butterfly girls sighed but smiled fondly at their elder sister nonetheless. "Yes, nee-san.."

----------------

"I'm home!"

"Welcome back, onii-chan!" Tanjirou's little siblings, Hanako and Shigeru, greeted their eldest brother, running up to him for a quick hug. The oldest Kamado sibling immediately hugged them both tightly.

"You're a little late than usual today Tanjirou-nii chan, did something happen at school?" Hanako questioned after he set them down.

"Well..." he averted his gaze, picking on his blazer until he found a stray small cherry blossom flower that somewhat got stuck in his breast pocket.  Ah, a small remnant of that 'little incident' a while ago… and her image suddenly flashed in his mind

"An angel from the sky fell right into my arms and she had the most beautiful eyes that I've ever seen..." Tanjirou unknowingly mused, holding the small flower in his fingers with a wistful smile.

Hanako and Shigeru tilted their heads at their elder brother's mysterious words. “What are you talking about nii-chan?”

Instead of answering, he just patted their heads lovingly. "Ah, nothing. Let's help mom prepare dinner, shall we?"

~End of Prompt One~

[megamanxfanfics]

S.VI - Ep.12: Grand Design

-------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. FALLEN COLONY – Lab Sites - NIGHT

--------------------------------------------------------------------

-Fade in-

Gate stares at his monitor in fear. Zero has just defeated Blaze Phoenix and X has destroyed another Nightmare Portal.

GATE: (panicking) This is.. horrible!  Not only is he back, but he’s made short work of Infinity Flea and Blaze Phoenix like they were nothing!!  How…?  How did he get so strong??

Isoc steps into the room.

ISOC: That would be the Nightmare’s doing.

GATE: (gasping) Isoc!

ISOC: (shrugging, acceptant) He did create it after all…

GATE: We created it!

ISOC: His Virus was the source.  You know that better than anyone…

GATE: Hmph…. How are you so.. nonchalant about all this?  Aren’t you afraid that he’ll come after us??

ISOC: (grinning) Oh no… I have a theory.

[INSERT TITLE CARD - Grand Design]

--------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. MAGMA AREA – Blaze Phoenix’s Lair - DAY

--------------------------------------------------------------------

X nods to Zero, ready to beam out and go home.

ZERO: Wait, before we go…

He spots a green Nightmare Soul left behind from Blaze Phoenix’s core and grabs it. Zero absorbs the power into his own core as his eyes glow orange for a second.

ZERO: We can’t let these fall into the wrong hands.

X: (nodding) Right!

Zero takes another second to walk over to the fallen Phoenix and rips out the weapon chip from his decaying core.

ZERO: …There. Now we can go.

The two share a smirk before teleporting home.

-cut to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. MHHQ BUNKER – Control Area – DAY

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The triumphant battle-weary heros appear in the middle of the room, by Signas’ console. They are both war-torn, but otherwise fine.

SIGNAS: Nice work, you two!!

ZERO: (nodding) Thanks, boss.

X: (saluting) Sir…

They both wearily nod and salute him as they walk over to Alia’s Console. On their way over to her, Zero looks at X with respect.

ZERO: Here, /catch.

He /throws the enemy’s weapon chip at X, which surprises him.

X, /catches it with a mild smile on his face.

X: Huh? /Oh… Actually, I’ve got something for you too..

ZERO: Hm?

He fumbles around in his compartment belt and returns the gesture by /throwing him the new Sub-tank he just found.

X: Here…. /catch.

Zero catches it and looks at the gift with gratitude.

Once at her console, Alia turns around with a satisfied smile.

ALIA: Very good, Gentlemen.  Now that you’re back… Let’s debrief!

Zero rolls his eyes.

ZERO: Always with the debriefing…

Alia looks at Zero, annoyed.

ALIA: Uhh, Yeah we’re debriefing…  It’s called - Doing My Job?  Hellooo!

X: (beaming, amused) Ahahahaahah.

Zero shakes his head and cracks half of a smile.

ZERO: (smirking,) …Alriiight, alriiiight ya got me…

Mid-laughter X suddenly panics.

X: Oh no!  Wait!! What about that Reploid?  I completely forgot about him.

ALIA: Don’t worry.  When you came back from the Pocket Dimension, another Reploid appeared at the Settlement. That must have been him.

X: (relieved) Okay, good.

ALIA: Speaking of which, who was in that Portal?

X: You’re not gonna believe this.  It was Vile.

ALIA & ZERO: What!?

X: I don’t know…. He didn’t seem real.  Someone must be messing with me.  

ZERO: Well that’s gotta be the Nightmare at work…

X: Even less-so.  Your Nightmare Counterpart had that Purple Virus Color we both love so much.  This one was more of a faded blueish gray. He was also very weak.

ZERO: Well, maybe that means that the Virus is wearing off!

The two look at him, spooked.

ZERO: N-Nightmare Energy…. Whatever this is!

Alia walks over to X and.

ALIA: Hmm, well that’s another mystery we’ll have to figure out later.  As for this power set…

She takes the new chip and walks it over to her computer.

ALIA: This, we can examine!  

She runs an analytics test.  The monitor displays a grid-like image of a generic reploid figure swiping a burning saber.

ALIA: It looks like you got Magma Blade! Good job!!  It emits a wide-ranged blade of fireballs from a Saber.

X shakes his head.

X: It’s unearned… You should use it, Zero.

Zero shakes his head.

ZERO: No need.  I’ve learned how to use his Shoenzan from our battle!

With a quick diagonal swipe, Zero shows them a new menacing saber, engulfed in flames. He creates a short wall of fire, similar to Blaze Phoenix’s winged fire-clap, but more contained.  

DOUGLAS: (nervous, troubled) HEEY, EASY!!

Douglas runs over to them from his Console, worried and annoyed.

Zero extinguishes the flame just as soon as he creates it and sheathes the saber into his back.

DOUGLAS: Could you not do that indoors, please?  I spent a long time making this place operational…

ZERO: Relax, Doug. I’ve got it under control…

DOUGLAS: (muttering) Hmph…. wreckless..

X and Alia both look each other wide-eyed for a second. Then they both choose to shake their heads and move on.

ALIA: U-uh anyway…. I should give you some more background on Blaze Phoenix before we close his file.

X: Yes, let’s proceed.

X gives Zero a disapproving glare for a second.

ALIA: Blaze Phoenix was an Ex-Investigator of the Earth’s Hot Spots. His ability was far beyond any of the other members on our Team.  Even Turtloid couldn’t examine these climates, but Phoenix was our solution. He could research any area that was dangerously hot without fear, but the problem was that his teammates couldn’t keep up. During the Great Repliforce War, his Team had investigated Burn Dino-Rex at the Sunhouse Mountain long before you, Zero…

ZERO: (shocked) Really!!?

-FLASH-

—————————————————————————- INT. SUNHOUSE MOUNTAIN – Deep Pit – DAY —————————————————————————-

Blaze Phoenix leads the way with an eager grin on his face as a fantastic wave of flames surrounds his entire body.

ALIA: (v.o, narrating) Yes.  His team made it as far as the Lava Tunnels.  Do you remember that?

Far behind the flames, Allen, Glen and Ron struggle to keep up as their bodies are perspiring from the intense levels of heat in the pit.

ZERO: (v.o, reacting) Oh my God, I hated that…

The whole area begins to rumble. The giant tunnel shakes as rocks can be heard crashing down beneath them.

ALIA: (v.o, narrating) So did they…

RON: What the-?

A Researcher turns around and widens his gaze immediately at a huge stream of lava, as tall as the entire tunnel around them.

RON: Oh God!!

2 others turn around, frightened to see the huge wall of lava coming for them.  

RESEARCHERS: AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

The wave engulfs all three of them entirely. Their bodies disintegrate instantly upon contact.

ALIA: (v.o, narrating) All the others who fell behind died needlessly...

From far ahead, Blaze Phoenix crashes through a wall with an aura of flame around him.  He barely hears the faint sound of screaming, which makes him only slightly turn his head.

Then, he notices a giant wall of lava headed straight for him.

BLAZE PHOENIX: Hm!?

-Fade to Orange-

Upon an orange background, she narrates.

ALIA: (v.o, narrating) When he came home, he was punished and thrown into quarantine.  

-dissolve to-

————————————————————— INT. LAYE LABS – Probation Bunker – NIGHT —————————————————————

A charred and recovering Blaze Phoenix rests in a chamber that is only slightly comfier than a jail cell.  

ALIA: (v.o, narrating) Ultimately, it was decided that in order to prevent any more victims from getting hurt, he would be disposed of and buried deep underground.

His cell door opens as he continues to sleep on a bench.

ZERO: (v.o, responding) How…?

A Reploid with a large cannon in hand walks up to him and places the weapon directly into his open beak.

ALIA: (v.o, narrating) Boulder Gun to the mouth while he was sleeping…. It got ugly…

-flash-

A large boulder is generated from the weapon, instantly crushing Blaze Phoenix’s skull from the inside. Blood spurts all across the wall and onto Victor’s chest, who shakes it off and wipes his weapon clean.

-FLASH-

--------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. MHHQ BUNKER – Control Area – DAY

--------------------------------------------------------------------

X and Zero look at Alia horrified.

X: Whoaaa!

ZERO: Brutal…. No wonder Gate lost it…

ALIA: Hmph.  It’s really hard to tell who was right in hindsight…. But he was definitely dealt an unfair hand.  Ugh, God that place was so toxic…

Alia winces and looks down with a hard feeling of guilt.

X: Heeeeey.  You okay??

He immediately walks up to her and puts two comforting hands on her shoulders.

With tightly closed eyes she nods and sniffles it off, trying to maintain her composure.

ALIA: Yeah, I… I’m fine.  It’s just a lot.

X: I know hun. We’ve all been through a lot…

He places a loving forehead against hers and they both take a slow deep breath together.

ZERO: Uhhhhh, is this still part of the debrief…?

Alia looks at X and grits her teeth.  Then she takes a breath and looks at Zero with a sly simper.

ALIA: Hmph… ya got me.

ZERO: If I didn’t know any better… It looks like X, has got you.  Hey, are you two…?

ALIA: That’s None of your Business!!!!

X blushes.

ZERO: Oh-o Maaaan! Woooooooow.  I really Did miss a lot while I was out.

X: Come on, Man. That’s enough.

ALIA: Alriiiiiight, alright.  Let’s keep it Professional. We’re done here.

ZERO: Hahahahaha, okaay…

X gives Zero two side-eyes with a half-grimace, feeling embarrassed.

Alia pets her hair and smirks at them with a slight blush.

ALIA: (grinning, smug) You both look like hot garbage.  Get cleaned up and spend the night in the Settlement.  I think it’ll be good for both of you.

ZERO: (confused) Huh?

X: (smiling, thoughtful) Hm.

-cut to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. FALLEN COLONY – Lab Sites – NIGHT

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Gate and Isoc continue their troublesome discussion.

GATE: So what are we supposed to do now… just wait until he miraculously comes around?  I don’t think that’s a very sound idea.

ISOC: We’ll follow through with the Contingency Plan until such events fall into our favor.  

GATE: That’s crazy! It’s not working!!  Dynamo is unreliable and that Resurrection was too weak!!  What the Hell was that???

ISOC: …Something to keep X busy, like you asked…

GATE: Hrrrgh, it’s not good enough!

ISOC: I’ll get Dynamo to come around.  Don’t worry.

GATE: (panicking) How can I not!??  Zero suddenly came back, stronger than ever and he’s tearing this whole thing apart!!!

Isoc hides a wicked smile and takes a breath.

ISOC: I know it may seem Counter-Intuitive, but the more he consumes the Nightmare, the better off we are.

GATE: (frustrated) How!? It will only make him stronger!!

ISOC: Yes.  And then he’ll become an Omega-Level threat once again.  X and the Public will turn on him. They will force his hand and once he Finally crosses that line… Then, my friend… he will see that our visions are aligned.

Gate looks at him wide-eyed.

GATE: You’re a Mad Man.  You’re putting a lot of faith into a hypothesis that we don’t even know is feasible!  

ISOC: Oh, it’s possible. I know how he thinks…. And when he’s backed into a corner, he will cut through anyone. Even his closest of friends.

GATE: That’s a very dangerous game you’re playing…

Isoc makes an evil grin. Gate shakes his head.

GATE: No, I have a much better idea.  It’s time to tip the scale in my favor…. It’s time to send in High Max.

-cut to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. HEXAGON STATION – Reploid Settlement – NIGHT

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Zero walks with X down the main steps of the reformed Train Station.  It is now a Recovery Hub for Homeless and Injured Reploids.

ZERO: So this is the Reploid Settlement..?

X nods.

X: Yeah.  It got really scary out there after your Shuttle Mission had… failed.

Zero frowns and looks away.

X: Local Mavericks turned up from around every corner and a lot of sacrifices were made…

X clears his throat.

X: But that was a while ago, already.  Once we got a semblance of control to the city, we noticed that the survivors naturally flocked over to here.  So, we decided to help them as best as we could.

ZERO: That’s really great, man.

X nods and smiles.

X: (proud) This… is who we fight for.  It’s a constant reminder that we need to get back out there and do better.  Every day.

Zero looks at X, stunned.  Once again, he has done a lot of growing up in his absence.

Just then, a cute reploid that shares X’s likeness in blue armor walks up to them.

LEVY: Hey, X!!  I was wondering when you’d grace us with your presence again.

She gives him a hug.

X: Eh heh heh..  Hey, Lev.  How’ve you been holding up?

LEVY: Really good.  Your friends are awesome!  Especially that new Fire Guy.

She thumbs over to Fef, who is mingling with Kassy, Regina, Iso, Data and Araki.

X: (smiling) Glad to see everyone’s getting along…

LEVY: Oh yeah. I’ve been training with the others and everyone’s been /really /Welcoming.

She /punches the /air with both fists in a cute way while making eyes at him.  Zero gives her and X a strange look.

LEVY: (flirty) Any chance, we’ll get to spar again soon???

X: Ahh.. n-no. We’re just here to recover and catch up for the night.  But now that we’ve got Zero back, maybe the two of you could-

LEVY: Hmph!  Passing me off to the Nightmare!?  I know who you are…. You’re the one who caused this whole mess!!  Under normal circumstances, it’d be an honor, but frankly… you can go to Hell.

She walks off in a huff.

Zero looks at X and rolls his eyes.

ZERO: So much for getting along……

They both walk on towards Lifesaver’s Med Car.  

X: Ah, don’t listen to her. She’ll come around.

When they pass by Fef’s group, the reploids all look at Zero in awe and fear.

ZERO: I don’t really care, if I’m honest…. I just want to get better and get back out there.

X frowns as they make it to Lifesaver’s car.

-pan to-

-------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. REPLOID SETTLEMENT – Med Cars – NIGHT --------------------------------------------------------------------

X and Zero step inside the car to see Hanse and Hal sitting with the charred Tekk. Lifesaver is tending to him.

HANSE & HAL: (nervous, scared) Ah-hh… Z-z-Zero!!

X: (annoyed) Relax, guys. He’s with me. He’s on our side…

Zero folds his arms and turns his back to them in a huff.  They instantly see his burn marks from the Magma Area.

Tekk tilts his head and smiles at Zero.

TEKK: H..h-hey.. Zzeerroooo…

ZERO: Save your strength, Tekk.  You’re no good to us, dead.

TEKK: (nodding, weak) rr..riigghhht…

He curls up and goes back to sleep.

Lifesaver looks at them with a stern face and walks over to X.

LIFESAVER: Gentlemen… What can I do for you??

X: We need a recovery bunk for the night.

LIFESAVER: Ohhh. Finally taking my advice and giving it a rest, I see. Come on…. Right this way.

He grabs some gear and leads them to another car, internally.

-cut to-

-------------------------------------------------------------------- INT. MED CARS – Recovery Bunk – NIGHT --------------------------------------------------------------------

The wounded legends are led to two padded gurneys, which lie at both walls of the car, across from each other. Lifesaver Prime and two assisting clones set the both of them up with IV wires, energen packs and light sedatives, which will ensure a smooth night without incident.

Zero gives Lifesaver an untrusting look, once stuck with the needle.

LIFESAVER: Oh, don’t worry. It’s a light dose of Repli-tonin.  This’ll just take off the edge, so your body can focus on recovering faster.  That’s what you want, don’t you?

ZERO: Hmph… I guess.

X: Thank you, Lifesaver.

He smiles at X.

LIFESAVER: Very good.  I’ll have a clone check up on you later.

He and the clones exit the car. The last one out, turns off the light and shuts the door, finally leaving them to their privacy.

The glow of their red and blue head gems illuminate in the darkness as X and Zero recover together.

-cut to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. ABEL CITY – Dynamo’s Apartment – NIGHT

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Dynamo stands by a window and watches over the barren city from high up.

DYNAMO: (v.o, thinking) Man I miss this City! …What have I done?  The bustling streets, the unsleeping crowds, the traffic at night…. Tearing it down was a lot of fun, but what was the point?  Everything’s so Boring!

Out of nowhere, from a distance, Dynamo can see a faint shadow amongst the night sky flying towards him.

DYNAMO: Hm?  What the-??

High Max bursts through his apartment window and grabs him by the neck.

HIGH MAX: I’ve Found You!!!

DYNAMO: AAGgghhkkk….  What the Hell??

He tries to fight back, but is flown into his couch and blasted 4 times at close range.

DYNAMO: AAGHH.

He tries to get up, but is instantly kicked right back down into the couch.

HIGH MAX: Stay down…. I have a message for you from Isoc.

DYNAMO: Ughh, what does He want??  Is he sad that I didn’t return his calls???

HIGH MAX: Hmph…. He wants you to know that you have one more chance to make things right.  Otherwise, you can forget about your Payment and the Luxury of Life altogether!

DYNAMO: Agghh…. Tell him, I need more time.  X really got me good, last time.

HIGH MAX: Not my problem…

DYNAMO: I’m gonna get stronger… I just need to sleep this off and collect more Nightmare Souls.  That’s all. I promise!

HIGH MAX: Hmph…. You have 24 hours…

DYNAMO: O-okay. Thank you!

High Max folds his arms and flies backward out from the window he came in. He threateningly locks eyes with Dynamo the entire time with a stoic grimace.

-       Cut to -

--------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. MED CARS – Recovery Bunk - NIGHT

--------------------------------------------------------------------

After a brief period of silence, X turns to his partner.

X: Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you…. How did you get that new saber?

ZERO: I created a new one while I was hiding out.

X: Huh?  You’ve never been tech savvy, before..

ZERO: Heh…. When it comes to my stuff, you’ll find that I’m full of surprises.

X: Hm… Where were you all this time, anyway?

ZERO: Well… I don’t remember a lot of it, to be honest. Reserve Processors must have blocked it out until I was safer…. But what I do remember is that by the time I rebuilt my arm and legs, I was hunkered down in a cave somewhere.

X: A cave…?  That’s it??

ZERO: Yeah, man. I dunno.  I was on the move, constantly roaming around not fully sure of where I was, exactly.  I kept looking for.. better parts. I tried to rebuild from scraps… turning junk into… something that could interface with my system.

X gives Zero a look of disbelief.

X: …Uh.. I’m sorry, but… Your story doesn’t add up, Man.  Why are you being so secretive…?

ZERO: What do you mean?? I’m not-

X: Come on. After all these years, I know you better than anyone. I can tell when you’re lying to me… which is upsetting.  …What is it that you’re hiding??

ZERO: (sighing) Look, the truth is I don’t know…. And it scares me.  Honestly, I just remember a cave and having a new saber. I was fully rebuilt with no idea how I got there and no idea where I was.

X: Oh…. Well no need to hide that from me..  Why don’t you trust me?

ZERO: In fairness, you haven’t trusted me for a while.  …And I’ve given you no reason to.

X: You always have my back in the Field.  That should be reason enough.

ZERO: But it’s really not… Is it?  

X: (hesitating) …We don’t need to get into this now…

ZERO: No, we really do.  It’s time, Man.  Speak your mind…

X: (sighing) Well… you’ve always been a guarded person, which I’ve come to expect over time.  But… my Damn Memory plays tricks on me, now...  

ZERO: Ever since Dr. Light… found you?

X: Yup. Now I don’t remember which Zero helped me grow up and learn to fight back anymore…. The cocky, headstrong idol or the jaded, corrupt Maverick…

Zero closes his eyes and winces, ashamed.

ZERO: It’s been both, Man.  The whole time, I’ve been fighting something.

X tears up.

X: And somehow, I already Know that!  And yet it’s news to me, now.  Can you imagine how frightening that is??

ZERO: I’ve lived it.  How do you think I felt in Antarctica?

X: …You scared the Hell out of me in Antarctica.  You weren’t acting like yourself at all.

ZERO: Actually, I was…. All of my inhibitions were gone.

X: Don’t start that up again!

ZERO: (sighing) I don’t Care about the Prophecy anymore, dude.  Me sitting here with you should be living proof of that.

X: But now we both know we were designed to kill each other…

ZERO: Fuck that.  I don’t care about their Grand Design.

X gasps, relieved as warm tears escape from his eyes.  Then, he makes a wry smile.

X: Always fighting against your own Destiny, to the bitter end, huh??

ZERO: (smiling) You know it.

X: So, in that case, I do have to ask this.  What’s your End Goal, now? …What are you fighting for…?

ZERO: Come on, do you really have to ask that??

X: I mean it, Zero.  If I’m ever going to fully trust you again, I need to know your motives.

ZERO: Ugh. After the Shuttle Mission Failed, I just want a sense of Normalcy…  Even if it’s unattainable.  Maybe I just want to hurt people for making the World this way. Get some of this frustration out…

X: I’d hate to say it, but I think you made the World this way…

Zero gasps and scowls with a grimace.

ZERO: Is it ‘cause of what that… fan girl said?

X smirks for a second.

X: Who, Levy? No… …Alia told me that your signal still doesn’t read as Data. So… what are you?

Zero shakes his head and takes a breath.

ZERO: It’s just as it was before. This is my Original Data.  It’s not Maverick and it’s not even Evil.  It’s just… Me.

X: Hmph.

ZERO: Not good enough for you?

X: What about the Nightmare Souls? What are they supposed to be??

ZERO: Well… They’re pieces of my Soul, actually.

X becomes wide-eyed.

X: What!!?

ZERO: I don’t know how they exist… Or even how I exist! But… somehow, the Virus Energy manifested itself into the Nightmare and was contained into these little orbs.

X: Sounds kind of like the Erasure Experiment…

Zero becomes wide-eyed.

ZERO: On steroids.

X: That explains how you’re becoming so powerful, I guess… I’m worried though.

ZERO: About what..?

X: (hypothesizing) You were revived Zero… No doubt about it.  But by who…? And for what reason? …If you absorb too many of those Nightmare Souls, I wonder… Will you end up like you did back at the Colony??

ZERO: (scared) I don’t know…

X: Can you contain it this time…?

ZERO: (worried) I don’t know!

X takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

X: Then that’s a problem…

ZERO: When this is all over, I want Lifesaver to do a full work-up on my internals.  One way or another, we’re gonna figure this out, Man.

X nods.

X: I like the sound of that.  

Zero cringes in pain with a heavy head of guilt.

ZERO: (hurting, guilty) X…. I’m so sorry that I hurt you.  Not just Antarctica or Laguz Island.  I’m sorry for all of it!

X: (surprised) Zero…

ZERO: (regretful, ruminating) How I acted during the Great Repliforce War, my reckless attack on Dr. Doppler, which nearly got us all killed… All you went through with the X-Hunters for me… and my unconventional field-training methods during the Rebellion, before that! I’m always putting you in danger. All this time, I’ve been pressuring you to do things My Way and-

X: I forgive you…!

ZERO: Huh??

X: Zero, all those experiences helped shape me into who I am today.  All the Good and the Bad…. And now that I know I can trust you.. None of it matters anymore. I mean that.

ZERO: But this Nightmare has been killing you…. That’s on me too…

X: (sighing) This Nightmare’s been killing all of us…. But now that you’re here to help, we’re finally starting to see some light at the end of the tunnel.  Now let’s get some rest.  We’re gonna have a lot of work to do when we get up.

Zero smiles at his best friend, who closes his eyes and rests with a peaceful face that he hasn’t seen in a while.  This causes Zero to let out a deep sigh and close his eyes. Before long, he is lulled to sleep with a more complacent face as well.

ZERO: (v.o, thinking) Maybe… things are gonna turn out alright, this time…

-fade to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. MHHQ BUNKER - Control Area – DAY

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Caption - December 30th, the next morning.

A well-rested X walks over to Alia’s console with a cheerful smile on his face.

X: Good Morning, Beautiful.

ALIA: Hey there, sunshine!

He gives her a kiss on the lips. She smiles at him and turns back to her monitor.

ALIA: How was your sleep last night? Just what the doctor ordered?

X: And then some! /I feel better than ever.

He /stretches his arm and twists his torso, cricking his neck and looking refreshed.

ALIA: Hehe, good.  Where’s Zero??

X: Heheh.. That lug is still sleeping.  But that’s fine.  It’ll give me time to catch up to him later.

She nods and gives him a thoughtful look.

ALIA: I see.  So, you’ve settled it?  You seem.. really at Peace today.

X: (smiling) Heh...  We discussed just about everything we could last night, and... I guess I’m just really relieved about how it all went.  I’m definitely satisfied with the outcome.  

She nods and offers a genuine smile.

ALIA: Good!  You deserve some Peace of Mind more than anyone else...

X: And what about you...?

ALIA: ...I still might have some reservations, but... if you know that you can trust him, then that’s good enough for me.  I trust you...

He gives her a warm, loving smile and holds her hand.  They massage each other’s palms for 3 seconds before she pulls away and clears her throat.

ALIA: So where to, today?

X: Inami Temple.  It’s beyond time to follow up on the Reploids I left behind…

Alia offers a worried grimace.

ALIA: Okaaaaay.  Just be careful.

X: I know…

She pulls up their Mission Select screen, clicks on Rainy Turtloid’s black and white mugshot and punches in the coordinates.  In another moment, he teleports away.

-cut to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. INAMI TREE – Meditation Room - DAY

--------------------------------------------------------------------

X is teleported directly inside the Inami Tree, at the ground level, where a jagged tunnel of spikes can be seen.  It is still raining.

In a flash of light, he transforms into his Blade Armor and slowly walks up to the tunnel trap.

X sighs.

X: Here goes nothing…

He crouches down and carefully amplifies the gears within his boots.  After a moment of prepping, he launches himself directly through the tunnel, narrowly avoiding the spikes above and below him.  In an instant, he bashes into the wall, with his hands out and brakes on his heels.  He has made it to the other side.  Above him, the ominous portal awaits him.

ALIA: (o.s, filtered) Now, remember. Once you jump through that portal, we’ll lose contact. I won’t be able to see or hear anything from your end until you get back.

X: (nodding) I know…. Here I go!

ALIA: Be carefuuuul!!!!

X jumps into the portal and smiles at the sound of her voice, before suddenly disappearing.

-cut to-

--------------------------------------------------------------------

INT. POCKET DIMENSION – Rainy Entrapment – DAY

--------------------------------------------------------------------

X appears inside the trap from out of thin-air, whereupon he immediately spots a curative platform while getting rained on.

X: Hmph…. Just as I thought.  This isn’t the same area.

Just across the way from a similar gap in the room, a Monbando Unit looks at him and smirks.

MONBANDO: Weeeell… Look, who finally decided to show…

X: Hm!?

MONBANDO: I’m afraid you’re a little late, my friend.

Just then, an infected reploid peers out from behind the Mechaniloid.  She looks at him, driven with hatred.

X: Oh no!!

MONBANDO: And now it’s time that you Suffer the Consequences!!!

From out of nowhere, three other infected reploids reveal themselves from the platforms below him.

X takes out his saber and breathes heavily.

At once, all 4 Infected Reploids dive after him and he is forced to defend himself.

X: GOD DAAAAAMN IIIIIIIIT!!!!!!!

Jumping after them, he performs his Double Wave Giga Attack for the first time with regret.  All of the Infected Reploids shatter to pieces at once.

-Freeze Frame. Grainy Effect-

[mango-forest]

more than survive (part 3)

part 1, part 2, part 4

Marinette finds that recently the problem isn’t so much as akuma battles or staying up (though they do contribute). But now she’s realizing that she just. . . doesn’t have the energy or motivation to get out of bed. Especially when it’s just to go to school. Tikki pulls at her hair and Marinette tiredly asks, “Do we have to get up?”

“Marinette,” Tikki counters. The noirnette groans and rolls of her bed. After struggling with her hair for a solid minute, Marinette puts up her hair in a messy bun. She puts the bare minimum in her outfit, just shrugging a sweatshirt hoodie over her bra and thick, soft leggings tucked into combat boots. Before she leaves the room, Marinette grabs a pair of pink fuzzy earmuffs from her desk.

It isn’t long before Marinette is arriving at her classroom, bursting into the room just as the bell rings. Ms. Bustier gives her a disappointed look. “Technically, I’m not late,” Marinette points out with an out-of-breathe smile on her face.

Ms. Bustier sighs. “Just take your seat, Marinette.”

The teenager walks to the back with a sheepish smile, sliding into her seat while the class snickers. She catches Adrien giving her a disappointed gaze before Lila tightens her grip, and he turns his head back to the front. Marinette tried to fight back a sigh. In hindsight, she dodged a bullet with her old crush. Good thing she tested down all his pictures years ago.

“Alright class,” Ms. Bustier announces, “I am happy to announce that we are taking a trip to Gotham!”

The class erupts in whispers.

Ms. Bustier laughs. “Alright, that’s enough, everyone. We are leaving soon, the exact date is in the packets Alix is going to be handing out.” Said girl obediently grabs the packets and starts passing them out. Marinette exchanges a nod and smile with her when she got her packet. “Please get your guardian to sign them and turn them in before the due date.”

Ms. Bustier sits behind her desk when she’s finished speaking, likely going on to her computer and finishing some work. As the class gets up and starts talking, Marinette sits with a small smile on her face. She’s going to Gotham! Maybe she can meet up with Damian. Against her will, Marinette hears Lila talk. “Oh I’m so happy to go back to Gotham,” the Italian girl says loudly.

“Oh yeah.” Alya snaps her fingers. “Didn’t you talk about your boyfriend, Damian Wayne?”

“Uh-huh,” Lila smiles. “I can’t believe you remembered that, Als!”

Marinette scoffs inside her head. Als.

“Unfortunately,” Lila continues, “He’s probably gonna pretend not to know me. You know, the Waynes don’t like a media scandal! Oh, I can’t wait to see Dami-boo again! It’s a shame he’s not gonna want to see you all.”

Marinette honestly feels a bit bad for whoever this Damian Wayne is. Even if Damian—her Damian—says he isn’t important, no one deserves Lila to be lying about them. She leans on her fist as she thinks about the Gothamite. Last call she had, Marinette forgot to ask him about the one before. To be fair, she was a bit distracted with working not the project, so when he called it caught her off guard.

Without thinking, she grabs her phone and texts, something big happened.

After her finger hits send, she’s struck by the realization that it would be very, very early in the morning for Damian. To her surprise (and slight worry) a text immediately pings back.

Are you okay?

What?

Oh yeah, I’m fine. I’m talking about something else

Okay?

Second thought go to sleep

What did you want to tell me?

Tell you later. Sleep.

Fine.

Marinette stares at her phone with pursed lips. She doesn’t like how late Damian is staying up. Well, Marinette thinks, she’s certainly got no room to criticise. Although she does have a better excuse, being a superhero and fighting akumas. That will have to be paused during the trip though. Marinette fiddles with the front page of the packet.

The alarm blares and she suppresses a groan. The last year or so lots of public buildings have gotten an “akuma alarm.” Which is basically a fire drill, but sounds different and instead of going back inside, school is cancelled for the day. Marinette shoves her stuff into her backpack (a new one she got last year, pink with large black spots) and walks out of the classroom with her fellow classmates, breaking out into a jog when she gets to the bottom of the front stairs.

It's a second nature by now for her to slip into an alley and let Tikki zoom out of her purse. “You know the drill,” Marinette tiredly says. “Tikki, spots on!”

The bright light hurts her eyes and the cold seeps into her body. Ladybug struggles not to swear as she heads to Master Fu’s. Her warm clothing has disappeared along with her earmuffs. The superheroine pauses at a rooftop. Then, with a wince, Ladybug changes direction to head for the bakery. Her limbs feel heavier and she just knows that her reaction time is becoming more delayed.

She doesn’t linger, only opening the skylight and swiping the jacket she tossed on her bed that morning. The jacket helps keep her blood pumping as she tries to race to Master Fu’s. Ladybug knows she just wasted some time. The akuma is out there and no other miraculi are with their owners. Chat Noir might, but it is highly unlikely he’ll break his streak of arriving after the battle.

When Master Fu shows the miraculi, she pauses. “I am going to a trip soon,” she says. She tries not to think about how many are suffering from the akuma by now. “Ladybug will not be able to protect Paris.”

Master Fu stares at her and Wayzz hovers over his shoulder. Carapace and Rena Rouge have not seen the field in a long, long time. After a few moments the kwami and guardian share a look. “We trust your judgment, Marinette,” Master Fu says, smiling at her.

Ladybug nods determinedly and reaches out. The snake and dragon are easy to choose. Her hand hovers over the bee miraculous. After a tense second, she moves her hand away. Even if she did want to make Chloe a permanent protector, that can wait until after the trip.With a nod to Master Fu, she took off.

When the Miraculous Cure is sent out, she stops Viperion and Ryuko from leaving. Ladybug knows she’d usually visit them both separately to collect their miraculi but today is different. “I will not be in Paris soon,” she starts. At their alarmed looks, she continues hurriedly, “I am coming back, but for now I think you both are ready. If you choose to keep your miraculi you accept to become a permanent protector of Paris and defend it from Hawkmoth. Turn them in and it’ll stay just as it is now. The choice is yours.”

Viperion grins. “Of course!”

Ryuko’s more quiet with her happiness. “I will not fail you Ladybug.”

Ladybug grins at both of them. “Well this is great! Now we shall probably leave before Chat Noir comes or we detransform, huh?”

When she gets back she sends out a request to Damian and heads downstairs to the kitchen with her backpack slung across her arm.. She grins as she sees her mom get cookies out of the oven. “Oh Mama,” she sings. “Can you please sign this?”

As Marinette’s fishing for the paper in her backpack, Sabine sets the tray down and dusts off her hands. “Depends on what it is,” she teases as she takes the offered paper. She trails off as she reads. “Oh, Marinette. . .”

Marinette scrunches her face. “What?”

“I don't know, honey. This much time in a foriegn city with your classmates? You said you weren't doing well in school with them, and I know they don't come around nearly as much, are you sure you want to go on the trip?”

Marinette smiles at her. “It’s okay, Mama. Honestly, what’s the worst they can do; it’s not like we’re gonna be glued by our hips!”

Sabine sighs. “Alright, Marinette. I’ll sign it. But Gotham has a high crime rate, so make sure to check in every day or so! You miss one check in and we’re flying you back.”

Marinette quietly cheers. “Thanks Mama!”

Sabine signs the paper and hands it back to her daughter, smiling as the teen bounces back up the stairs.

“Oh can you believe it, Tikki?” Marinette says as she sits down on her spinney chair. “Maybe I’ll even see Damian!”

“Gotham isn’t that small,” Tikki gently reminds her.

Marinette sighs and nods. “Yeah, it's nice to imagine though.”

“Maybe you can bring your project along! The packet did say there’s a formal event!” Tikki suggests.

“Oh my god, I can!” she exclaims. After a pause, she adds, “I’ll have to finish it first.”

So Marinette gets out the notes and the fabrics and the thread and the needles. She works while pricking her fingers, she works while eating the cookies, she works while Tikki plays games on her phone. She works as Tikki discusses Chat Noir with her. She works until she hears Damian’s voice coming from her laptop. It's faced towards her, so she doesn't really need to move but she still gets up to lay closer, on her stomach. “Hey, Angel,” he greets. “What are you working on?”

Marinette sucks in a breath and quickly turns the laptop around. “Nothing,” she says, getting up to lie down again in front of the screen. “Just an outfit for myself.”

“Oh and I can’t see it?” he teases.

“Nope,” she responds.

“Mmm.” He smiles at her.

“Oh!” Marinette exclaims, snapping her fingers. “Uh, you remember the video call before last? Like, the one where I was half asleep? Did-Did your brother come in. . . ?”

“Yes, he did,” Damian answers honestly. “Why?”

Marinette groans and buries her face in her arms. “Nothing, I just didn’t have the best memory since I was sleepy.” Not like she could forget anything before the last video call. Chat Noir, his talk, knocking on her skylight, everything before that. That’s still burned in her mind. “So you live in Gotham, right?”

“Yes,” Damian says, arching an eyebrow. “Why do you ask, Angel?”

“Well my class is taking a trip there soon!” Marinette does awkward jazz hands.

Damian perks up. “Really? Angel, that’s amazing. What hotel are you staying at?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. We’re supposed to be touring a place called Wayne Enterprises, so probably close to there.”

“That’s close to where I live!” Damian says. “Maybe we’ll see each other!”

“That’d be amazing.” Marinette grins.

Damian smiles too. Marinette wonders if she can die from anticipation.

@god-is-dead-and-so-am-i @birb-didnt-survive-the-snap @iggy-of-fans @never-neverland @urbanpineapplefarmer

[lixuagi]

The Cure for Death - chapter 2

In this chapter: MC fullfills her dream and at the same time her nightmares become way too real. 

I try to move my limbs, only to find them immobilized. -Don’t get too excited, you might hurt yourself.- the individual sneers above me. Their teeth are sharp. To say their anatomy is interesting would be to underestimate it. The more I focus, the more details I notice. Their lips are thin, their face symmetrical, their body tall and slender. They look, judging by their uniform, like they’re a doctor. I begin to realize I’m not dead, but I’m still too weak to react. I let them examine my eyes, which are opened wide by long fingers covered with black latex gloves. They smell of disinfectant. -Hm. That’s interesting. You’re not infected. Well, that’s a relief.- I let them finish their examinations before I ask: -Can you release me?- -Oh, of course.- the doctor smiles in a far from reassuring way as they loosen the wrist and ankle straps. I immediately sit down, lifting my back from the freezing tabletop. -What happened? Where am I? Where’s Selasi? - I look around, agitated.

There are dozens of people in white coats running back and forth, labored. Some are bent over tables similar to the one where I am, intent on tinkering with naked bodies, others are rummaging through medicines, noisily tinkling the flasks containing them. The large room is damp, with its rocky walls lit by torches. In the air hovers the penetrating odour of disinfectant, which, however, cannot totally cover a more bitter and nauseating smell, already imprinted in my mind: that of death. -Calm down, young patient.- The strange doctor who welcomed me when I woke up brings my attention back to themselves, taking my face in one hand and turning it to look at it from all angles. As they press my cheeks, preventing me from speaking, I feel their abnormally icy touch on my skin, even through their gloves. I shiver, but I blame the equally glacial and ghostly environment. I try to slow my breathing, as the doctor is not at all reassuring, nor do they try to be. -As much as I would have liked to operate on you, the man who brought you here made me change my mind.- Those words paralyze me instantly, while the individual notes something in a notebook with nonchalance. I hope it was a way to express the love they have for their profession, even if it was verbalized in a rather absurd way. I’ve got to get courageous. I have to make them understand that I need answers. -Please!– I exclaim, weakly grabbing a flap of his gown. Their face turns unnaturally, I’m surprised that they didn’t hear their vertebrae creak, given the rigidity and rapidity of the gesture. The ruby look goes from my face to my hand, but the wide, sharp smile does not leave them. I breathe deeply, as my voice trembles. -Where am I? Please answer me…- I look at them with supplicating eyes, but my confusion almost seems to amuse the doctor. -You’re in my clinic, Miss…- they check their notebook, where I imagine they’ve collected all my data. -MC Alnazar.- To hear my full name is strangely pleasant. Asra gave me his last name, since apparently, when he found me, I wasn’t able to tell him mine. In fact, I don’t remember much about my parents. I have some vague images of a ship, of the ocean, but they are so blurry that I wonder if they were real times or just fantasies created to fill something I preferred not to leave empty. -My friend, Selasi. He is sick… I tried to cure him, but I don’t know if…- the doctor puts their hand on my forehead, despite their silence something I told him led them to believe me feverish. However, that’s not the case. -This Selasi…what is he sick of?- they ask me with apathetic tone. -I think it’s the Red Plague, his eyes were totally red! I’m fine, I don’t need to be here. There are certainly people more needy to receive such accurate treatments, for example Selasi himself…doctor, could you do something for him?- the ambiguous figure seems almost proud that I considered their analysis “accurate”. -We’re already overwhelmed with patients. Which is pointless, since they’ll all end up the same…- they mumble to themselves, but they go on before letting me understand. -The man was perfectly healthy. Although I suspect a slight schizophrenia, since he was babbling nonsense.- I breathe out a sigh of relief. Then, I did it! I saved him! This news invigorates me instantly. I’d love to jump for joy, but I quickly recompose myself, clearing my voice. –What was he blathering on?- -He was talking about a supposed “miraculous magic.” He said it was you who saved him. Tell me…- they bend slightly towards me, their stature towers over my tiny figure. I try not to be intimidated. I might be in the right place at the right time. -I’m a person of science, not the first to believe certain rumors…but are they true?- Their grin is wider than ever, and their sharp teeth are all too evident. I consider the answer. They peer at me like a vulture would at a beast in the middle of the desert, to make sure it is dead and can be devoured. As creepy as they are, they’re still a doctor first. My whole existence has reason to make people better through my gift. Offering it to the world, especially in times of need, is the right thing to do. -Yes, it’s true.- -Prove it to me.- they instantaneously talk back. -You mean…here?- I jerk when they grab me by the shoulders, pushing me in front of a patient stuck on a steel table, in the same condition I was in before. At least I wasn’t naked. -I…I’m not sure I– -Are you lying? If so, don’t waste my time and get out.- Their grip is getting tighter, in a not-so-sheer threat. I wonder if they’d really let me go. -No, I’m not lying! But I’ve never cured a Red Plague patient before without it making me faint, and that’s why I’m here.- -No problem, then.- they grab a scalpel from a nearby tray. My heart stops, for a second I’m afraid they’ll stab me. Then they lower the blade on the patient, making a painful but not excessively deep incision in the abdomen. –Quaestor Valdemar, what are you doing?- A nurse rushes to the scene, alarmed by the wounded man’s desperate cry. –Oh, my…!- I exclaim, in disbelief. What kind of doctor, or rather Quaestor, would do such a thing? The purpose of medicine is to alleviate pain, not to cause more suffering! I immediately put my hand on the wound. Fortunately, I don’t need much energy, and both Valdemar and the nurse watch the cut heal before their incredulous eyes. The patient sighs, relieved from the pain and the blood loss. -It’s…incredible!- exclaims the young assistant, handing me a cloth to wipe the blood off. I accept it with pleasure, offering him a smile a little embarrassed. The boy is tall, his body resembles that of the Quaestor, but his shoulders are a bit wider and he is much more…human, I would say. Externally and internally. His grey irises admire me with enthusiasm, partly covered with tufts of red hair. I can tell from the dark circles under his eyes that this is a really stressful job. I look away from his face, which seems to have distracted me quite a bit. The nurse notices and his pale face turns pink. -Ahem! I didn’t want to embarrass you… I’m Julian Devorak.- he’s trying to offer me a hand, but then he withdraws it, deciding that maybe it was better for me not to come into contact with the liquids that may cover his uniform gloves. He holds it out to me again and I finally shake it. -Mc Aln– I’m interrupted by an abrupt tugging that forces me to turn on my heels. I bring my palms to my chest, I was so immersed to introduce myself that I forgot about the Quaestor, who seems to look at me severely. They don’t seem to appreciate any kind of distraction at work. I understand, how could I think about such a futile thing when people are dying around me? -Come.- Valdemar commands, now facing their back to me and beginning to take long steps through the clinic. I turn one last time towards Julian, pretending an expression of terror to which he mouthes “Good luck!”. It doesn’t occur to me that the doctor has stopped their march, and by the time I realize it it’s too late to stop, as I slam against their back. -I’m sorry, really, I don’t know what’s gotten into me…- God, I’ve never been so careless. I can hear their tongue clicking, I would say condescending, as they hiss: -You’re very distracted. It’s not ideal.- they press their hand on my side, pushing me in front of them, over a little wooden door. There are many others, each with a metal plate with a number engraved on it. On this one, it just says “office”. I am now in a cramped little room, there is barely enough space for a desk and a shelf, both full of notes and volumes, but all perfectly stacked and organized. Valdemar beckons me to sit on the only stool present, and I obey, preferring to keep quiet for now. -Well, that fool wasn’t lying. You really have a gift. It’s interesting, to say the least…- as they talk they put their hands together, otherwise motionless in front of me. -You know, I could almost decide to hire you, but you’d take away potential experiments.- I mean…are they saying they don’t want me to heal people so they can…study them? Their dedication to science is admirable, but their ethics are nonexistent. I try not to let my disbelief slip through. I want this job. -Please, Quaestor. This… I feel it’s where I belong. I’ll do more than just healing. I’ll even do some research, so there may be no need for dissections. I suppose it’s not pleasant… - I try to imply, maybe it’s just a misunderstanding and they’re not as sadistic as it sounds. -Oh, it’s far from being unpleasant to me. I find nothing more beautiful than the warmth of a vital organ under my fingers.- I am speechless, obviously they want to test me, see if I have a strong enough stomach for the job. Or maybe it’s a strange sense of humor, I’ve heard that many doctors joke with these things so as not to make the situation sadder. I decide to humour them briefly to get to the heart of the matter, and I force a giggle. -Hehe, yeah, nothing could be nicer…But doctor, I need this place. I’m not doing it for money, I don’t need anything but necessities. I want to help you, with my whole being.–With your whole being?- There’s no malice in their voice, actually there’s nothing, but the look with which they scan my body from head to toe combined with their strange way of giving voice to thoughts is enough to make me feel molested. I nod, carrying my hands to my lap as if to conceal my nudity, although not even vaguely exposed. They pretend to think about it, tilting their face and that strange horned headdress with it, but they seem to have already calculated everything. -In fact, the Countess has instructed me to put an end to the plague. So I suppose you could be of use to me.- I stand up, and if their figure didn’t upset me so much I’d embrace them. -Thank you, thank you!- I express my gratitude with multiple bows, but I am stopped by a raise of their hand. -One of these cells will be yours. Congratulations, Number 100.- Ah, I guess we’re all numbered. It’s a little sad, but otherwise it would be impossible to remember each one of our names. -But be careful. Nothing goes unnoticed. I won’t tolerate distractions like today’s. They’re very unprofessional and inefficient. And those who slow me down… can be considered discarded. - I swallow. I hope they’re not seriously that strict and it’s just a mask to intimidate newbies. I barely bend my lips up. –All clear.- -Now wait for me here. In the meantime, take off your clothes.- I open my eyes wide. Then, I wasn’t wrong! They really are a creep! Think, MC. If you refuse, you might miss this chance, and it’ll probably never happen again. But if you accept… heavens forbid. I don’t want to think about it. –But, like…completely?- I whisper. I thought it would’ve happened with the love of my life. I’ve never given myself to anyone, I’ve always waited to meet someone who would make me feel totally comfortable, one day. All my integrity, my idea of love… is now being shattered like this? Is it my destiny to sacrifice something so important to fulfill my dreams? My heartbeat accelerates, while panic takes hold of me. The Quaestor raises an eyebrow, puzzled. Then he shakes his head, without giving me any answer, and leaves the office, locking himself behind the door. What a nasty being. But I have to do it. I owe it to those children. Maybe they’re the ones to decide my fate, and they’ve establishehd that I must pay for what I’ve done. That’s right. My eyes get all shiny while unbuttoning my pristine shirt. Asra’s face appears in my mind, his amulet still around my neck. What would he think of me? Probably that I’m disgusting. Giving myself away for a job. But he wouldn’t understand. I take off my garment, then my shoes. The more skin I show, the more tears run down my face. I think back to Julian’s hasty presentation. He seems like a nice, caring guy. I wonder if he could imagine what’s about to happen to the sweet girl he admired for her healing powers? I unbutton my pants and shakily fold them on the stool. Now I’m only wearing underwear and the necklace. Just in case, I put it in my bag, which now lies on the freezing ground. Since the doctor has decided to leave me the benefit of the doubt, I prefer for now to at least keep my bra and panties on, in a futile attempt to feel vaguely protected. I’m rubbing my arms, indulging in the agitation. You must, you must. It’s the best thing for everyone. I can hear the door creaking. There they are, they’re back. The high shadow of Valdemar stretches out on me, while I can’t look at them or stop crying nor shaking. -If that’s what you want…Please know that I’ve never… I don’t…- I hiccup, but all I get in response is silence. -I’ve never done anything like that…-I cover my chest with my hands, rubbing my knees together. -There’s always a first time.- declares the barren voice of my persecutor. Then I really didn’t misunderstand. My crying is silent, but I try to suffocate the sobs, waiting for them to move. I flinch when I hear something brushing against me, and I can’t suppress a small gasp. But it’s not hands. It’s… fabric. -What are you crying for? I thought you were excited. Did you change your mind?- I shake my head, clenching my eyelids. -No, I didn’t. Don’t worry.- -Then you must be one of those people who cry when they’re happy, I guess. Or maybe you’re suffering of hysteria.- How can they think I could be happy right now? They’re going to abuse me! They’re a monster, but I already know that. –Would you like a hand?- -N-no, I really don’t know where to start…take the lead. Just, please. Be nice…- -If this mere thing scares you so much, I wonder how you’ll be able to stand the sight of dead bodies.- I hate to admit it, but they might be right. I have to be strong. I can hear them sighing. -I’ll try to be as fast as I can. It’s standard procedure. But you’ll have to get used to it. As soon as you come in, you’ll have to do it every day. It’s essential and I demand it, like any other behavior deemed necessary under my guidance.- Every…day? No, that’s impossible. Is this really what I deserve? Maybe I never woke up, and for my sin I went to hell. I died, and this is the world the Devil sewed me into. There’s no other explanation. -Now raise a leg, No. 100. – I let out a sob, but I obey. Something slightly rough runs over my calf, surrounding it. –What are you doing…?- I squint my eyes, still tarnished with tears, and find the Quaestor kneeling before me. -I’ll show you how to wear the uniform properly one and only one time. I repeat, once. I want you to watch, though, it is important, or you will not be sufficiently protected from the pestilence. First of all, these pants.- when I realize, my legs give way, and I also fall to my knees, abandoning myself to a hysterical cry. I really just made a fool of myself. If they’re still hiring me after this, I can consider myself extremely lucky. –Oh dear, you sure are an emotional human being. It might encourage patients to tell us about their symptoms. I know empathy is an enviable quality. Not for me, but as long as it doesn’t get in the way, I guess…- are they trying to comfort me? -I’ll let you vent this time, but I don’t want it to happen again during work hours.- -You’re telling me… that you still want to hire me as a nurse?- I raise my head to finally look them in the eye. I even forget that I’m half-naked. -My dear, you may have just walked in here, but you’re already the most useful one. A talent like yours could come in handy.- I don’t care about their grin, their sadism, their inhumanity, as they dab my tears with a clean handkerchief, the relief I feel makes Valdemar seem like the most benevolent creature in the world. -Thank you.- My smile is trembling, but my heart is already calmer. -It’s in my best interest that my employees are in the best possible condition to care for the patients after all. Let’s get back to the uniform. Now, the apron… -

.

When the Quaestor walks me out of the office, we get face-to-face with Julian. –No. 069, do you have any relevant news? -The look of the red-haired boy dashes from me to his superior. He notices my shiny puffy eyes and red cheeks. He frowns, worried, then an impatient scoff from the doctor brings him back to his duties. –I’ve only got the list with the most recent patients data. So far, they have no features in common. Age, ethnicity, previous psychophysical state, nothing is shared equally by the sick. Neither is the mortality rate lower in young people…- I can read his torn down expression even behind the surgical mask, which I am now wearing too. -How many are currently hospitalized here?- I ask. Earlier, Valdemar mentioned the Countess of Vesuvia, Nadia Satrinava, wife of Count Lucio Morgasson. A woman in power is not to be underestimated, but I am surprised that she is forced to take the reins of such an important task as eradicating the Plague alone. I don’t personally know the Count, of course, but Asra has dealt with him a few times as a guest at his sumptuous birthday parties. On the occasion of this special day, the gates of the palace are opened wide to the people, or so the flyers distributed in every angle of Vesuvia claimed, but those who cannot afford a lavish costume and a beaded mask are automatically discarded from the event. Asra, however, loves the dances and especially the food from the buffet, so he attends the party annually, always trying to take me with him. I have always refused, dancing is not my forte and certain things require a confidence that I do not possess. Obviously the celebration stopped taking place when the Plague forced everyone to shut themselves indoors.

-Hundreds arrive every day, but we can do little at the moment except administer sedatives or painkillers.- answers Julian. -Oh, but as of today, not anymore! Isn’t it true, No. 100? The presence of the Questor is ice cold behind me, and I can only nod my head, still embarrassed by the uniform gaffe. -I thought there were 87 of us, doctors and nurses.- Comments the younger medic, perplexed. -As of yesterday, 86, since No. 29 has been eliminated. Anyhow, this way, it’ll be easier for everyone to appeal to her. She could make up for… unpleasant mishaps, such as a perforated artery, crushed rib cages…- while listing every possible case of macabre inconvenience, Valdemar has a strange expression on their face, like the one of a child thinking about his favorite dish. When I get goosebumps, this time I don’t blame the cold of the dungeons. Noticing my discomfort, Julian allows himself to interrupt their dark fantasies. -I didn’t know Alex was sick.- -Oh, he was just at the beginning of the infection. I couldn’t risk him compromising other people’s health…so I took care of him.- I admit I’m not in a position to judge, but I can only ask: -Did you…- -Yes, exactly. I sent him home.- I breathe a sigh of relief, for a moment I feared the worst. But apparently it’s not over. -He’ll be back here soon as a patient, and on his deathbed, he’ll be studied. Isn’t that noble?- The only thing Valdemar seems to be excited about is the idea of vivisection. I wonder if it happens often, to hospitalize their own employees. I hope not, because now I’m part of the medical staff too. I wonder if they ever feels sorry. They might be able to detach themselves emotionally with a stranger, but with a colleague I think it’s more difficult. After all, coworkers chat every day, they help each other. For me it is inevitable that a strictly professional relationship will sooner or later lead to a friendship, even if it is weak. Does this job really change one so much and so quickly? This situation has been going on for just over two years, has it really been able to change an individual’s soul in this way? Or was it already like this? -No more futile chatter, it’s time to return to our splendid duty, don’t you think? - Valdemar’s feline eyes are watching us. I realize that the whole uniform, from boots to gown, fits me perfectly. Could it be that they took my measurements while I was unconscious? Heavens, I don’t think they were even thinking of hiring me yet. Do they do that to everyone? Or maybe one look it’s all it takes for them to know a lot more about me than I could ever imagine. If Julian told me the boss could read minds, I’d believe it, and I wouldn’t even be that surprised. Speaking of Julian, he’s taking a step forward by my side. -I could take care of her training if you agree, Quaestor.- the doctor shakes his head in response, calmly and satisfactorily inhaling the putrid air of the little hospital. -I’m afraid I’m going to have to deny you this chance you’ve certainly been yearning for, No. 069. I myself want to observe her techniques, and who could be a better teacher than me in medical matter? Be reasonable, 069, you would be futile. Even if I didn’t want to take this responsibility, I’d assign the task to someone more deserving.- wow, they could’ve just said no. The two of them exchange an icy stare, there’s no good blood between them at all. The whole surrounding atmosphere is full of tension, but I suppose that’s normal. It’s a very stressful situation for everyone. Julian stands still, looking down. His fists tighten, then he releases them with a sigh. –Understood.- He murmurs resigned, then turns around and goes back to work. Following his trajectory with my gaze I notice something new in the room: a low stone well, open. –Watch carefully.- -Ah!- I yeIp and cover my mouth with my hands, jolting at the unexpected closeness of Valdemar’s face, leaning behind me to whisper in my ear. I then remain motionless, obeying the command, and to my horror I notice that a bloody and lifeless body is thrown into the well. Death is everywhere here. I’ve never seen it like this before, so close. The procedure is done quietly in front of the other patients, but no one pays attention to it, all so busy being tormented by their own unbearable pain. A little boy with vermilion sclerae seems to be the exception, and as he watches the well swallow one corpse after another he realizes that he will soon end up the same way. He grabs his hair, crouching on the icy ground. Valdemar murmurs something, but I take the liberty of not listening to them, running to the young boy to kneel in front of him, his preadolescent face twisted into a desperate expression. I take his face in my hands, bringing his attention to me. Some nurse turns to look at us. -Hey, hey. Shh. It’s okay. I’m here to help you.- I let him rest his head on my chest while he sobs incomprehensible gibberish. Between those confused words, I can distinguish a specific cry saying “I don’t want to die” and I could swear I’m hearing my heart break in two. I run my fingers through his dusty hair, feeling protected by the mask, but even if I didn’t have it I would do the same thing. I take advantage of the contact to concentrate my light and understand how advanced the stage of the disease is. I close my eyelids and let the noises around us cancel each other out. Once again, the compromised particles are in the blood, but luckily they haven’t attacked the organs yet. He will certainly be easier than Selasi to heal, plus now my magic knows where to go and recognizes the enemy. I hold the boy close to me, rocking him gently, while I happily feel his symptoms go away. The light pervades his body, absorbing the malaise. Within a minute, or even less, it’s all over, and when I open my eyes again I have many more fixared on me, first of all those of the cured kid. -How do you feel? -I ask him, smiling kindly. It would be understandable if he was confused or exhausted. -I…-He puts his head down to take a look at his body, then raises it back up to me, then back down again, incredulous. I feel a hand on my back, turning around, I notice it’s Julian’s. -You’re unbelievable, MC!- he exclaims, quickly examining the sclere of the boy, now of a normal whitish hue. Everyone cheers me enthusiastically, surprised by my skill. Between the voices I hear “it’s a miracle” “she’s the cure!” and I turn red like a pepper, while trying to ignore my incoming migraine. Then, suddenly, an icy silence invades the room. Everyone is silent. The only sound that echoes on the rock walls is the ticking of a pair of soles hitting the stone coming closer. -Admirable, really, No. 100. But, you see… I’m the one in charge here. And I don’t think I ordered you to treat this orphan.- I recognize Valdemar’s voice at once, and I realize I made a mistake. I stand up slowly. -But the boy was suffering and…- -Little, incompetent fool…-the breath stops in my throat when the Quaestor’s squeeze wraps around my shoulders, tearing me away from Julian’s delicate touch. -You and your stupid, superfluous feelings. I knew you weren’t so clever, but I still overestimated you.- A rare warmth pervades my chest. It’s anger. -I’m going to ask you to think about it anyway. Do you think it’s right to privilege the health of a young brat? How do you think everyone else feels now? Or maybe they didn’t pity you enough, since they weren’t whining like babies. But I can assure you that there are people who deserved to be saved more than a useless infant to society. There are soldiers, officials, even other doctors here. Isn’t that enough for you?- I bite my lip. It’s so easy to make me feel guilty. The Quaestor’s words, hard as they are, are true. Everyone deserves to live equally. I don’t know what to say, and that encourages them to persevere in reproach. -Yeah, that’s what I thought. The goodness you so-called tender-hearted people show is false. There’s always an ulterior motive behind it, you never pause to think about your actions and that causes more harm than anything else.- It costs me a lot of effort not to cry. I feel humiliated and frustrated, but tears would give him even more reason. -From now on, I demand that you do what I tell you, nothing else. You’re clearly not capable of making objective decisions. Go to your office, in the meantime… take him away- they point at the boy with a wave of their hand. I instantly become pallid with fear.

 .

Notes: summary of this long ass chapter: Julian good, dr.Vivisexy bad. I’m sorry for this angst but this will be very obviously a slow burn (ohhh yeeeeaaah that’s the stuff) and also uhhh space for character development i guess

I need Julian for a higher purpose so i hope you don’t mind the presence of pretty bird boi (i certainly dont,,,,,, i do be kinda loving him doe..,,). As always, thank you for reading! Opinions are always appreciated!!!! (please dont insult/harshly criticize me though, i could and WILL cry)

[mostlywritersblock]

Dracula 2019 fic

Part 1

****

Is this a dream?

Of course it is.

You’re drinking my blood.

But my blood is deadly to you.

Yes.

So you’ll die.

So will you.

After all this time

Did you think I’d let it hurt?

****

Dracula awoke.

It was disorienting, not because of any lack of vision but simply because he had awaken.

Something he’d thought he’d never do again.

By all rights, he should be dead.

Well, dead-er.

He was laying on his back, comfortably mind you, staring up at the ceiling when a familiar voice punctured his thoughts.

“I thought it might happen today, or rather I’ve been telling myself that for the past two weeks.” The woman from the foundation spoke.

Bloxham was it or something other?

“Just so you’re aware it’s been a total of 19 days since your attempted suicide”

Attempted suicide? Is that what happened?

“Your lawyer has been dutifully notified of your condition and current occupation of our facility. For more economical reasons I’m sure you can see why you’ll be staying here instead of a hospital until we can safely monitor your progress and rehabilitation.”

Progress? Rehabilitation? What was wrong with him?

“What is wrong with me?” The statement came out far weaker than he intended, and by god was that really his voice? Such a pitiful thing!

Bloxham stared at him blankly. “I just told you, attempted suicide.”

She stepped out of view but he could still hear her. “Now that you’re awake I’ll have the doctors come examine you. Try not to hold back on anything, the more information you provide the better.”

A series of scenes played out suddenly before him, ripping his focus away from the present to-

A flash of light, so intense, like the sun itself-

The sun.

Agatha.

He could hear retreating footsteps.

“Wait.”

Bloxham hesitated. “Yes?”

“Aga-Dr. Helsing. Zoe, where is she?”

There was a long pause.

“She’s alive, I’m not allowed to say anymore on the subject.” And she briskly walked out of the room. Dracula listened as the soft hiss of the door sealed behind her.

Ah.

So he was back in the glass cage. Wonderful.

****

The doctors poked, prodded, and took blood samples for a sum of 75 hours before Dracula got fed up and snapped one of their necks. The rest quickly fleeing the room as he viscously bit into the dying mans jugular. It was delicious.

Keep dangling a carrot in front of a starving rabbit and they’re bound to take your finger along with it.

****

The blood seemed to have done some good, and he wasn’t the only one to notice. The next following days consisted of Bloxham gathering up as many volunteers as she could to start giving him blood. It wasn’t the greatest thing ever but he felt he should play by the rules just for a little while longer.

Just until he had regained his strength.

****

By the gods. He was going to go mad of boredom. He’d requested -what - at least a dozen times by now, for some form of entertainment. A book, magazine, some new eletro-technological gizmo. Anything. But it was as if his request fell on deff ears. Which wasn’t possible. Which meant they were ignoring him.

Dracula sighed dramatically. He’d also requested for his lawyer, though he now supposes that won’t be happening anytime soon either.

****

He kept seeing her.

Not in his dreams - because, well, that wasn’t really possible at the moment- but in the shadows of his cage.

Agatha.

He hadn’t heard anything more since he’d first asked about her. It was as if the topic of one Dr. Zoe Helsing was taboo, classified, unmerited information that he was definitely not privy to.

No matter. He was counting down the days now.

Soon.

****

He’d surmised he’s been held prisoner at the foundation for a total of 39 days, 14 hours, and 45 minutes when the alarm sounded throughout the corridor. An unnecessary red light bouncing about the walls.

He slid the key card into place and a mechanical hiss sounded as he pushed the the final door open.

Fresh air rushed to great him. Along with twenty or so armed guns.

Dracula didn’t bat an eye as he rushed them. The sun grinning down on him when he slaughtered them all.

***

All that time in the foundation and no one had been one step closer to discovering how he was still alive. The one mystery he was actually hoping they’d solve before he jumped ship. Oh well. Now to find the real answers, with the only person who could possibly provide them.

He hoped at least.

****

He was surprised to find that Zoe was not actually where he had expected her to be.

He had thought, naturally, that with all the secrecy that obviously whatever information they had was not of the positive sort. Meaning he assumed he’d find her half dead in a hospital riding out the tale ends of her cancer.

Not. Outside a cheap flat lounging in the shade with a beverage smelling strongly of alcohol.

When Zoe finally noticed his chilling presence she gifted him with a small smile.

“Took you long enough.”

*****

He was to say very bluntly. Not pleased. Not pleased at all to discover Zoe did Not in fact have all the answers.

He was pleased however to note that she had miraculously been somewhat cured of the cancer. A miracle they were both certain he had a hand in doing.

Another piece of the puzzle yet unsolved.

She’s currently undergoing chemo, a last ditch effort by her doctors to make sure the cancer never comes back. But Zoe says everyday she feels a little stronger, a little less like the poison is in her veins.

Dracula supposes he’s happy for her.

Happy to have the company now that they’re not constantly at each other’s throats.

But he’s still a vampire, a fact they’re both acutely aware of as time passes by.

Dracula leaves sometime in the night, Zoe’s warm body curling into the space he previously occupied.

It’s not goodbye. But he needs sometime to collect his thoughts and -

He needs to feed.

****

Zoe finds him not even two days later.

“You know running off in the middle of the night is not going to solve any of your problems.” She states taking a seat in his temporary domicile.

Dracula rolls his eyes, “It doesn’t unsolve them either, Zoe. I’m driving myself mad with explanations, scenarios that make no sense and facts that don’t add up.”

He paces a few steps. “By all accounts I should not be here. I should dead, not undead.”

“Careful it almost sounds like you’re regretting being a vampire.”

Dracula frowned. “You know that’s not what I’m saying. I just wish to understand, nothing like this has happened before.”

Zoe sighed, “ Look it’s not like you went around drinking sick blood all the time, or for the length you drank mine. Who’s to say you can’t die from it. Maybe it just severely weakens you, like a vampire kryptonite.”

“Like a vampire what?” Confusion crossed his face as he tried to distinguish the strange word. And here he’d thought he was doing pretty well in this century.

“It’s Superm- you know what I’ll get you the comic sometime. Anyway, we really don’t know what kind of effect sick blood may have.”

Dracula scoffed. “Oh and me practically dying isn’t effective enough for you?”

“Not when you can come back good as new, no.”

Dracula smiled dangerously, “There’s the cold nun we all love to hate. Don’t suppose you’re hoping I’ll try it out again and stay dead next time.”

“One can only hope.” Came the distinctive foreign reply.

“Well I’m not, so there’s another dead-end for you.” He sneered. Zoe took in a deep breath

“Look, I want to get to the bottom of this just as much as you do, but you ran away from the one place that could possibly offer some kind of scientific explanation.”

Dracula released a low growl, “I’m not going back there.”

“I’m not asking you to I’m just-“

A loud buzzing filled the room, Zoe frowned sharply before tearing into her purse to dig out her phone. She glanced at the screen briefly before answering.

“Yes? What is it now?”

Dracula stared intently at his shoes trying not to grow impatient.

“Again? This is the third time this month, yes I know he escaped twice thank you Margo. Yes. Yes he’s with me. Yes I’ll tell you. Look, now isn’t a good time, I’ll call you later. Tell Florence to just reschedule their meeting, I won’t be in tomorrow. Thursday? Fine, yes, whatever works. Yes, goodbye.” Zoe let out an exhausted sigh as she lightly slammed her phone face down onto her lap.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Trouble you caused.”

“Oh what have I done now?” Dracula mock pouted

“The contributors - our sponsors are reviewing the foundation, again. Apparently the fact that you escaped twice puts us under strict scrutiny.”

“Ah, I don’t blame them, for the price they’re paying I’d put your organization under strict scrutiny too.”

“It’s your bloody fault!” Another deep breath, “And it isn’t my organization, I just help run it.”

“What happened to early retirement?”

“I’m not dying now, why should I give up when we were really starting to see a breakthrough.” She quipped sarcastically.

Dracula chuckled, “Point taken.”

****

Turns out running an organization that your not legally obligated to run takes a lot of time and effort, both of which Zoe was finding hard to balance, especially with an over demanding, narcissistic, ego-centric vampire breathing down her neck. Oh and she also wasn’t trying to kill him, or capture him, or run test on him this time.

So.

There was that.

Zoe figured her sudden lack of animosity towards the man remained largely on the fact that he saved her. Or rather drained the sick right out if her.

So now she can’t help but feel a little obligated to offer aid in this troublesome mystery. Even if that means lying to half her staff the whereabouts of Dracula’s location.

However, the animosity spikes at certain moments too.

They usually coincide with Dracula’s feeding habits.

*****

TBC

[polarisavi]

but there is music in us

or, after eliott is taken from him, lucas goes to hades to bring him back. //2k // ao3

he dies in the early morning, eyes open and blank, skin unearthly cold.

lucas - lucas doesn't bury him. tries, but can't, and yann steps in instead. by that night it's over. he takes one step inside their - his - house and immediately walks back out. it feels haunted, foreign, and frigid without eliott's warmth. he stays with yann. a night, just one night, and then he'll sort everything out at his place, try and figure out what to do with eliott's things.

a night turns into a week, into two.

he goes back to work, his students not inquiring into his disappearance. or maybe someone told them. it doesn't matter.

a month, and yann tells him that his house is sorted. that he can go back whenever he'd like. lucas nods, doesn't ask for further details. doesn't ask what exactly that means for eliott things. he doesn't go back immediately, but one day yann comes back with a poppy flower from his garden, which manon has apparently been taking care of while he's been gone. lucas hold it, stares at it for a long time, thanks manon when he sees her the next day.

three months, and he's back in their - his - house. it's warmer now, persephone has been back for a while. it means he doesn't need to sleep in their bed, makes due with dragging everything he needs onto the floor near a window.

everything of his has been moved, not gone, yann had been very firm on that fact, but moved into one of the rooms they never used. there are blank places along the walls where drawings used to be.

lucas' lyre, though, is still in place, even though it is technically eliott's, something his mother gave him that he quickly passed onto lucas after lucas played for him. that first night they were alone, house empty but for them and their laughter, wine bottles scattered around the room, eliott's hands stained with charcoal, and of course he couldn't be the only one showing off, so lucas picked up the lyre and -

he closes his eyes, clenches his jaw. firewood. he needs more firewood.

six months, and arthur tells him something, an old story he's found in some forgotten book in his library. it's cruel and lucas throws his fist before conscious thought. arthur's skin breaks, just on top of his cheekbone. lucas' bones creak, knuckles bruise.

have you tried to get him back? you could ask. there are stories, sometimes hades does favours for family.

six months and two week, and lucas thought he was beyond hope, but arthur's voice scratches at his mind, over and over. he plays to drown it out. the lyre - eliott's lyre - unused since his death, but lucas' hands haven't forgotten, apollo's blood strong in his veins, and he plays for hours, plays through the night. the music, sweet and sad and raw, etches into his bones, an irremovable mark, his body forever changed. his heart has turned into an exposed nerve, painful, open, so very delicate.

seven months, and the dreams have changed. it's enticing, what his mind shows him. just go down, see hades, beg, offer, sacrifice, anything to bring him back, walk out hand in hand with the man of his life.

***

the journey feels long, but it's painless. he gets to bypass the torture, the confusion, the river crossing, that mortals must endure. arthur told him he should bring the lyre, and it's a little awkward to carry, but it's - fine. he's been through worse.

persephone is back, holding a large knife and carving into wood when lucas finds her. he hadn't registered the weather changes.

"oh! you're one of apollo's kids, right?" she waves the knife around, but it's, probably, not a threat, just hand gestures.

lucas nods. "is hades around? i need to ask him something," he says, and his voice doesn't shake. his hands do, but no one can see them.

"what have you done?" asks a deep voice behind him, and before he's had time to turn around hades is in front of him, walking directly to his throne in the middle of the room. a three headed dog trails behind him, settles onto the armrest.

"nothing. i want to ask a favour."

"oh?"

"i lost someone. my husband, my - my love," he chokes out the last word, and persephone, still sitting in her rocking chair, makes a sad sound.

"and you want to, what, replace him?" hades asks, gently scratching behind his dog's ears.

"obviously not," persephone says, flipping the knife between her fingers. "he wants to bring him back, take him home. right, lucas?"

"right."

hades sighs, long suffering. "well, that's a lot harder. i know you're my nephew, but -"

"lucas, that lyre you're carrying, can you play it?" she cuts in. lucas blinks rapidly, but she's smiling, a genuine question.

"i can."

"play for us. the entertainment down here is...lacking."

hades doesn't say anything, just sends an affectionate look to his wife. so lucas plays. plays everything he remembers, everything he's ever heard anyone else play, and composes his own when those run out. he can feel his pulse beat reverberate everywhere, his body aligned in such a way that he can hear, can feel, his heart throb, can feel it racing the longer he plays.

"you have played well," hades says at last, hold up a hand to signal lucas should stop. his hands - his hands are bleeding in places. he's sweating, breathless, shaking all over but feels completely numb.

"so does that mean...?"

hades groans, but nods. "you can have him back. you've convinced me. but it comes with one condition."

"of course - anything. anything you want."

hades chuckles with an edge of defeat. "you can have him back, but you cannot look at him. not until you are back on mortal land. you will just have to trust that he is there, behind you."

"but he will be there?" he feels lightheaded, only half aware of what he's saying.

eliott eliott eliott

"you have my word."

lucas exhales, nods, heartbeat tripping in his chest. "okay. i agree." he says. nothing happens, everyone in the room casual. lucas nervously looks around.

"so, uh, what do i -?"

"you walk, lucas. turn around, and walk back the way you came. no one will give you hassle. just remember, if you look back, he dies. and he dies for good."

"and lucas?" he turns to persephone. "i've watched a lot of people fail at this, so some advice? don't look back, even when you get back to mortal land. eyes forward, just keep walking. wait for him to touch you, to reach out to you. he will."

wait. resist. control.

a test.

"so if i leave now, you'll get him, and he'll follow me back."

"he's already here, lucas," hades says, and lucas flinches, quickly stops himself from turning around.

a test.

"okay."

"go, lucas. turn around, make the journey back, and wait." he can feel something behind him, the slightest imprint of breath moving his hair.

lucas grabs his lyre. "thank you."

hades waves that away. "leave, nephew."

so he leaves. the lyre is heavy in his hands, heavier than it's ever been. but the air - lucas has never been so conscious of the space around him, his senses never so sharp and searching. he's there. eliott is there. he has to  be. he has to be because this will actually kill him. this last ditch effort, the renewed heartbreak. if lucas gets back home, and he's still gone, his crinkly eyes and melodic voice, his warmth and joy, his infinite love for everything found in nature and beyond, the pain will carve him hollow, will send him beyond language, beyond text, until only the void above or below would understand him.

he plays a few notes, off and on, despite his bleeding hands. he might - if he doesn't distract himself, he might do something foolish, something unforgivable. so he plays, and when he isn't playing, he drags his fingers across every groove and bump of the instrument, commits it to memory.

he crosses the boundary into mortal lands, the noon high sun sublime, painful in its beauty, in what it means. his hands shake, the movements rattling his whole body, slows his walk. maybe - if he could - he's technically in mortal lands - it might be -

but persephone's words ring loud, and he picks up his pace. it's no longer silent, the world chirping with life, but it just means there's too many layers to dig through for his hearing to pick up any trace of eliott's bouncing walk.

he walks.

he walks and his legs ache, muscles sore. but he keeps his neck straight, his eyes forward. he's - they're - getting closer now. soon they'll be back. soon.

he walks and their garden comes into view, shabby without eliott's understanding of nature, but mostly alive. and lucas - lucas stops. breaths. falls to the ground on his knees, hands on the ground before him, neck bent down. there's tears everywhere, running over his mouth, down his chin, continuing down his neck or falling onto the ground. he's probably been crying for hours, for days, a year. there was never a time before this. weeping on his knees is all he's ever been.

his chest is in knots, aching and thick.

"thank you," someone says. and it's him, his voice, soothing and melodic. lucas lets out a shaky breath, opens his eyes. and there's, there's another shadow, standing next to his own. a hand, very slowly, very gently, stretches out and runs through his hair.

"are you real?" he asks.

"of course," eliott says, murmurs, and tugs very lightly on lucas' hair.

his ribs crack open, letting, for the first time in months, sunlight, hope, joy into his body. reminding his heart that sometimes, miraculously, there's reasons to keep beating.

when he stands his head goes light. when he turns around, he doesn't believe his eyes. eliott, eliott, stands tall, twisting his hands in front of him, and crying, quietly, like lucas had been.

"lucas," he says, and it sounds like he's gasping for air, like he's been submerged in water, almost drowning, until lucas dragged him from the depths, flew him to salvation.

"eliott." and oh gods, it’s been so long since he's said that name. he holds out his hands, fingers slightly apart. eliott's expression lightens, softens and he slips his fingers into the gaps of lucas', presses the palms of their hands together. one of them, maybe both, are trembling slightly, thinly, and lucas clasps their hands together tighter, pulls eliott in closer.

"you're really here, right? this isn't a trick?"

"i'm here. i'm not - i'm not going anywhere, i promise." he gently detaches their hands and lucas thinks the lack of skin contact might kill him, but eliott just cups his face, brings them closer.

"you've been gone a while. seven months."

eliott silently repeats that, face complicated, and lucas buries his face in his neck, breaths deep, slips his hands around eliott's waist, under his shirt, and holds on tight. he's warm, and smells the same, like dried orange peel, and probably won't mind that lucas is crying again, making a mess of the collar of his shirt. there are hands around his shoulders, his neck, cupping the back of his head. safe, treasured, protected.

"i'm sorry i'm sorry i love you i love you i love you i'm so fucking sorry i love you i'm okay i love you," eliott whispers right by his ear over and over again, his voice cracking, breaking, failing in places, his hands restless as they move across lucas, trying to touch as much of him as possible.

eventually, an hour, a year, en eternity later, he pulls back. eliott makes an annoyed sound, but lucas doesn't go far, doesn't leave the circle of his arms, just wants to see his eyes, his certain, beautiful, blue grey eyes. eliott might want the same thing, because he doesn't complain or readjust them, just gently, so very gently, rests their foreheads together, uses a thumb to brush away the tears still clinging to lucas' cheeks.

there a million, billion, infinite number of things he could say, wants to say, things that have been sitting dark in the spaces between his ribs for months, but lucas kisses him instead. their lips a little salty, but soft, so soft. eliott makes a broken sound and brings them impossibly closer, warmth spreading through his body. the kiss deepens, their tongues meet and a wildfire starts, the oceans part, the world settles back into orbit.

home home home.

[7deadlycinderellas]

If the summer of our lives could just come again, ch18

Ao3 link

 On the King’s Road

On the journey back to Winterfell, Sansa tells Shireen the whole story.

She’s a good listener, or perhaps it’s just a good story.

The weather is too terrible to camp very much. Sansa does not feel she misses much travelling in the wheelhouse this time. The few inns they pass cost a great deal, and food is stretched thin.

The two of them sleep in the wheelhouse, pressed close together as though they were sisters sharing secrets. Maybe in a way they are.

And so, these stories shared under moonlit cover, must sustain them. At least that’s how Shireen tells it.

She weeps the day that Sansa is forced to tell her how she died. She shakes her head violently.

“My father wouldn’t do that - he loves me!”

Sansa nods softly.

“Of course he does. That’s what made it so awful.”

Shireen sniffs, and wipes her eyes.

“Did it even help?”

Sansa’s heart breaks in two.

“No. Half your father’s men deserted him. Who would have thought that burning a child alive was bad for morale? He still attacked Winterfell, still tried to take down the Boltons. His remaining forces were crushed. He died later that day, executed by Lady Brienne for using the Red Woman’s black magic to kill your uncle.”

Shireen laughs through her tears.

“Maybe Ser Davos was right to take me away all those years ago.”

Sansa turns solemn. She reaches out to brush a tear off Shireen’s cheek.

“I never met you before. I only knew of you from Davos’s stories. He loved you, mourned you as if you were his own child. His very first thought when he returned with us was to get you to safety. It’s worked so far.”

Shireen slumps, and rests her head on Sansa’s shoulder.

“I used to have dreams of being burned to death in a dragon’s fire,” she says.

“Dragons are just huge beasts,” Sansa assures her, “The real most frightening monsters look just like men.”

Once Shireen’s sobs have subsided a bit, Sansa tries to cheer her up.

“Lady Brienne was the very first woman knight in the seven kingdoms.”

Shireen’s wet eyes blink in surprise.

“How?”

Sansa laughs, “Any knight can make a knight, it’s merely convention that women can’t be knights. She was knighted properly before the Long Night by Jamie Lannister, though she’d been acting the role of true knight for many years before. “

Shireen’s tears have ceased and been replaced by a confused look.

“Jamie Lannister? He’s- well, I wouldn’t call him mean, but…”

Sansa snorts.

“You can call him mean all you want. He pushed my little brother from a window- twice now. He couldn’t walk at all after the first time, and even though it wasn’t all that bad this time, he still can’t run or walk without a cane. Brienne claims he’s a good man underneath, but extracting that man is not within my skill set. Apparently the first step needed is a complete twin removal.”

Shireen sniffs.

“I never had siblings, always wondered what it was like.”

“It’s got its ups and its downs.”

Shireen suddenly purses her lips, remembering something from long ago.

“When Davos took me to Storm’s End, he said he was trying to rescue one of my cousin’s. Said in a different time he could have even been a prince. I guess that’s the closest thing I’ve got.”

Sansa cackles at the word ‘prince’,

“Oh, I am so going to tell him that Davos told you that. That was Gendry he was speaking of, one of your late uncle’s bastards. Davos got him out of King’s Landing fine, he married my younger sister.”

Shireen’s eyes go wide.

“Oh! That means we actually are family already!”

Seven hells, Sansa thought, no wonder Davos was so desperate to protect this girl.

It’s later in the journey, they’re about to cross into the North properly when it happens.

They’d been up early to get a quick start. The day was miraculously clear, and they could cover a great deal of road if it stayed that way.

Sansa had just been standing with she felt her skin prickle. She couldn’t put her finger on anything, just a sudden feeling of wrongness. She feels Lady shift at her side, picking up on her ill at ease. Rotating slowly, she managed to silently catch Brienne’s eye.

They don’t need to speak, Brienne sees her gesture with her eyes off into the tree line.

She pulls, nocks and looses her arrow silently.

All she does is graze the man, splitting the leather of his doublet and slicing the skin underneath, but the yell he lets out it enough. Brienne and the other guards can put him on the ground within a moment when he lurches from the cut on his arm, losing grip on his own bow.

They get him down easily, get his bow from him, but don’t trap his arms fast enough. He pulls the dagger from his belt and cuts his own throat.

With barely a second to think, Ned orders one of the guards to sweep the treeline and see if there was anyone else.

Looking at the man dead on the ground, Sansa feels her stomach lurch. He had been so close....She grasps Shireen’s elbow, her fingers pressed so tightly to her face that she’s left marks on the skin.

The others are arguing.

“That’s a Lannister cloak-”

“But he’s got the Baratheon colors underneath-”

“Which ones though?”

“He’s not one of Renly’s, I’ve never seen him before-”

“A sellsword? But why dress him up.”

Quietly, Sansa walks beside the man’s head, lolling back above the deep cut where his blood gushed free. His dagger has fallen from his lifeless grip.

With a wrinkle of her brow, Sansa knocks it from his hand and picks it up.

“Sansa-” Ned interrupts her, and she tests the items weight.

“He sent it with a catspaw before...to think he knew nothing of how valuable it could be. “

She turns to Ned.

“Don’t think too much on whose man he is. Likely a sellsword, they wouldn’t ask questions. The colors are probably deliberate, meant to confuse. I’m not even sure who he was targeting is important.”

Her stomach sinks with the thought. She isn’t sure herself, it could have been Father or her, or even Shireen and Brienne. She can’t picture the dead man’s sights from where he was standing. They don’t know if he was waiting, watching, or anything.

“Lord Baelish spoke often of the value of chaos. This is Valyrian steel. It was given to a paid assassin before, in an attempt on Bran’s life. I don’t think he was the one who ordered it, but it still ended up in his hand.  It did exactly what it was intended to here, it spread discord.”

“Sansa,” Ned starts, “How do you…”

She turns the dagger over in her hand.

“That’s likely what he wants, to turn us on each other, make us suspicious. He clearly didn’t pick this man for his stealth.”

Ned takes a deep breath.

“What do you suggest?”

Sansa thinks. She’s still unused to people looking to her.

“We keep going. Keep an eye open. Don’t think too hard about it.”

She finds a rag and wipes off the dagger, then tucks it into the pocket at the waist of her skirt.

“And I’ll keep a hold of this.”

 At Winterfell

During a clear day, the raven announcing Sansa and Ned’s return makes it to Winterfell. There is rejoicing. Even Robb looks relieved at the thought of being able to pass the mantle of lord back to his father.

At least by most.

Catelyn sits at the breakfast table long after most of the rest of the keep has left, and the dishes have been cleared. She sits, and thinks.

It would be a lie to say she was not overjoyed at the thought of seeing her eldest daughter again. It would also be a lie to say the thought of seeing Ned again did not fill her with an array of mixed emotions

It’s been over three years. She feels like she should have become more accustomed to things now. Like maybe she should have been able to move past the lies.

Then she hears how her other children, who have lived so many more years than they should, speak of Jon, and of their father.

They can love their brother-cousin, and still look at their father, knowing he lied to them about Jon for so many years. Why can’t she?

Her reverie is broken by the sound of her second youngest re-entering the Great Hall. Bran walks carefully back up to the table, and sits roughly, reaching under the bench to retrieve his cane where he’d left it.

“I nearly made it all the way out to the training yard this time,” he admits to her. He’d managed to lose the last cane somewhere, and when Gendry had given him this one, he’d threatened to ram the next one through the back of his hand if he lost this one.

“Is it easier in the morning?”

Bran nods.

“Sometimes. The ache doesn’t really start up until I’ve stressed it more than a bit.”

Catelyn feels a rush of tenderness at her son’s attitude.

“I know the gods have given you quite a burden to bear.”

Bran laughs.

“The gods didn’t do this me, Jamie Lannister did.”

He doesn’t tell her how small of a burden it seems this time, how his last life he had spent certain he would never do any great deeds like he had dreamed of as a child, never marry, never have a family and likely die alone.

Catelyn raises an eyebrow at him.

“I never took you for one to deny the power of the gods.”

“Given my own experiences, I have grown fairly sure that they must exist, but doubtful that they are at all concerned with us.”

Catelyn looks like she’s going to open her mouth to object to Bran’s irreverence again, so he changes the subject, to what he recognizes is likely troubling her.

“You’re worried about seeing Father again, aren’t you?”

Catelyn nods softly, not seeing the point in denying it. Bran had always been the kindest of the Stark children, the most empathetic. It made sense that he would be able to read it all over her face.

There’s a long moment before Bran responds,

“It was like that for us at the beginning too. We were all so excited to see you again, but we were terrified. Worried about how you would react. “

“I’m not concerned with how you’re father will react-”

Bran cuts her off.

“Wondering whether he felt any guilt at all about the lies he had told.”

Bran looks thoughtful for a time. Catelyn had often seen the ghost of the years in his sister’s eyes, but she’s seen it on him far less often.

“Believe me Mother, I’ve known plenty of guilt about actions in the past that I couldn’t change. Forgiveness is an incredible gift if you’re willing to give it.;

He leans over the end of the bench to hug her.

“You’re allowed to still be angry with him. None of us hold it against you, most of us were angry at him when we found out, at least for a little while. The question is whether or not you want to still be angry at him.”

Bran pulls himself up and rests his cane on the ground.

“You should think on it before they get home. Father always said he did his best thinking in the Godswood. It’s clear today, and no one will bother you there.”

Catelyn doesn’t respond to his suggestion before Jojen sticks his head into the hall and tells Bran that one of his ravens has returned, and with a gesture of his cut hands explained that the bird was “rather insistent” that it’s message be read with haste.

It’s barely a few more minutes before she decides that his suggestion is a good one.

The Godswood is a bit alien to Catelyn still, its pools and ancient woods a part of a faith which is not hers. But it is peaceful, and empty. Sitting below the weirwood, she can pray, undisturbed by anyone but Gray Wind who trots by. Her furs are thick, and blanket her from the biting cold.

She thinks to pray for the ability to forgive Ned, but what she actually prays for is her own forgiveness.

She prays to the Mother, to the Maiden too, and once more, to the Crone. She’s not sure who will respond to her pleas. She wonders which of them would touch Jon, which of them might soften his heart. She knows that emotions are usually considered the domain of the Mother, but would he be touched by her, when the woman who acted as his own mother had been so cold?

She’s been out for maybe an hour or two when her peace is interrupted by Arya.

“Sorry Mother, there’s a letter come for you- it’s from Aunt Lysa.”

Oh dear, she thinks, this can’t be good news. Sansa had been rather light on the details about Lysa, but none suggested that Catelyn’s sister is doing well at all.

 Over the Wall

The weirwoods all speak the language, and their roots go deep. Rowan teaches Jon, that they all speak to each other, in their own way.

“Despite this, there is still the effect of distance. A voice spoken on one end of the continent will reach a voice on the other, but it may not be true in strength.”

“So if I ask one if another one…”

“You will get an answer, but it may not be as complete or accurate as if you asked one right here.”

The trees of the far flung north are screaming. The night king is gathering his army. The trees don’t call him that, the name they call him doesn’t translate well. All of the dead, are to the trees ‘other’, and their king is THE other, the great one. The trees don’t know what he’s doing.

“He’s trying to get past the wall,” Ygritte tells him, “Same as us.”

Jon spares a glance to Rowan. She had told him before that after joining with Gilly and the others, their group had sought out and destroyed a horn that Mance Ryder and his men had been seeking, believing it to be the legendary horn of winter, which could bring down the wall.

“That does seem likely,” she concedes, “Seeing as the others are aiming to bring about a winter that will never end, that they would seek the other sides of the continent.”

“They can’t get over the wall,” Jon says, with firmness, “The stories are always that there were enchantments upon it. And whether or not that’s true-”

Rowan chuckles to herself, and Jon rolls his eyes. All the things she has shown him and he stills feels the urge to doubt any words speaking of magic.

Some time later, Jon asks her.

“My brother Bran...he said that the raven never finished teaching him because they were forced to flee this cave.”

Rowan nods.

“The night king touched your brother while he was in a vision. Because of this, he could find your brother, could pursue him wherever he went. That was how he found this place.”

Her eyes turn faraway, in a way they often do when speaking of her fallen brothers and sisters.

“I have often questioned why Brynden Rivers seemed to not think it worthwhile to explain to him the reasons for the rules he gave your brother, and their importance. That he would just take him at his word and not question.”

Like they had said before, Jon thought, Bran was young. Might be he might not have even listened. Anyone who had ever had any sort of interaction with children should have known better.

He breaches the subject he’s been thinking on for much of the time in this cave.

“Rowan...do you think you are really the last child of the forest? Like, there is no one else in the world- I mean, I don’t imagine your kind could have children with humans, but there are giants and other types…”

Rowan lets her eyes fall upon the ground, her ears drooping.

“No. Even if I were still in my child bearing years...Even if I tried, I will be the last. I may die in the battle that is coming, I may live another hundred years...but I will be the last.”

There is pain in her words, pain that cuts Jon deeply.

“My sister had a child,” she continues, “A young son. I haven’t seen either of them...they are gone now of course.”

Later in the day, while they have paused their lessons, Jon takes Ygritte aside. Rowan is helping the others mix some of the green moss into a thin broth they’d made of the bones of a hare Ygritte had caught earlier that week.

“Can you come with me to the weirwood? I’d rather not do this with Rowan around.”

She looks at him curiously, opening her mouth as though she wants to mock, but holds it in.

She lets some of it out during the walk. The rest of the time, she talks about what the other wildlings had been planning to do to get past the wall themselves.

“Really? You were going to try and climb it? You’re mad, the lot of you.”

“We’d have done it too.”

She wrinkles her nose, deep in thought.

“We would have gone over it, I wonder if anyone’s ever tried to tunnel under it.”

That gives Jon pause.

“That...would take a great deal of effort and work. Don’t think you could do it without being noticed.”

Ygritte shrugs.

“Guess we ought to be glad that the dead aren’t strong as giants.”

They reach the weirwood, and Jon sits by its side, Ygritte off on the other end of the cave opening, trying not to stare.

He asks the tree of his home, of Winterfell.

The words he gets back are immediate, they are coming from Winterfell now, not past. To his surprise, the first thing it speaks of is Lady Catelyn. Jon knew she was a very devout follower of the Seven, and he had never seen her in the Godswood. Yet, she is still there to pray. The fine lines on her face are deeper now, and Jon is suddenly hit with the realization that his siblings must have told her about their past lives too.

To Jon’s shock, the feeling he is overcome with from the trees words is her guilt. She is both praying for serenity in her own heart, to be able to let go of her anger, and for someone else to let go of their own. Her prayers are softly spoken aloud, but the trees can read her face as easily as Jon would read a book.

With a rush, he realizes she is thinking of him. He is quiet when they return to the camp, even when Ygritte tried to rile him up by pulling his curls straight and letting them go.

“Tree got your tongue?” she asks.

He cranes his head over his shoulder to look at her.

“Have you ever had someone treat you unfairly for so long that it actually threw you that they might feel guilty about it?”

Ygritte furrows her brow.

“Who did you asks that tree about?”

“I asked it to show me my home, and it showed me...Lady Catelyn, my father’s wife.”

“Your father’s-”

“I grew up a bastard, and she never once let me forget it.”

“That’s not very motherly,” Ygritte admits, “Though I guess I can sort of see her perspective. You southerners basically blame women for the smallest of weaknesses and yet expect them to forgive men of all of them. Maybe it just finally hit her that you weren’t at fault.”

Jon pulls his knees up to his chest.

“But why couldn’t she have seen that when I was still at Winterfell?”

Ygritte leans over and rubs the tip of her nose softly against a soft spot she’d found behind his ear.

“Jon Snow, you’re a man grown now. Don’t trouble yourself by the thoughts of someone so far away. If she wants you to forgive her, she can ask when she sees you again.”

Jon wraps an arm around her, taking her in, with her rough furs and crooked teeth.

“I wonder what Lady Catelyn would say if I tried to bring you home?”

“Probably some of that fainting you insist Southern women are so fond of doing.”

Jon’s dreams that night are troubled. They start with mostly memories, twisted ones, of Lady Catelyn’s scoldings and admonitions from his childhood. Her words, once just cold and stern, turn venomous and hateful. Then suddenly, her mouth becomes a black hole and Jon shakes himself awake.

Then his dreams shift to his last conversation with uncle Benjen before they had left for the wall. He sees his uncles face, and then it turns dark, cold, and twisted. His misshapen head tilts back, and he screams.

Jon wakes again, and lies there, Ygritte snoring an inch away, and hopes with all his heart that his dreams aren’t prophetic like people speak of.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Flood my Mornings: Unimaginable

This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List

Previous installment:  The Battle of the Gamete (Jamie helps Claire study)

@themusicsweetly​ asked:  For when Claire eventually is preggers, their first time with an ultrasound machine.

So here’s the thing: 1951 is at *least* ten years too early for fetal ultrasound. 

HOWEVER, this was one of the first FMM scenes I wrote after the reunion (even before this prescient ask!)  and at the time, I wasn’t even thinking about historical accuracy. Soooooo, I’ll ask you to put on your suspenders of disbelief (TM @stageandhistory​‘s teacher) and just enjoy the anachronistic ride. 

[Also, there’s a bit more of a time jump on this one than I normally go for, but I was feeling antsy to get to a landmark scene, so HERE WE ARE. (but I’ve got some planned flashbacks in the works for later, so don’t hesitate to request scenes from the months I passed over, if you’ve got a need!)]

Late April, 1951; Harvard University Hospital 

“Fine—Sweetheart—I’m fine!” 

The words were barely more than a muffled mumble into his shirt. Based on how tightly he was clutching me, I should have insisted to speak with him directly instead of leaving the message with the Fernacre receptionist; or at the very least, I should have been more emphatic with her that there was absolutely no emergency at hand. 

I hugged him tighter in reassurance. “I’m so sorry, darling—I truly didn’t mean to frighten you. Everything’s fine, I promise.” 

“But Nancy said ye were in hospital.” 

“At the hospital—at Harvard—” 

“Aye, not your proper hospital—and I was in the furthest pastures—” he said in a rush, cupping my head hard. “It took them so long to ride out to track me down—that—and then the Traffic—I thought—the bairn—”

God, and what must he have thought? With my being several weeks past six months, the same time at which—

“We’re fine, Jamie, I swear. See? We’re in the academic wing, not intensive care.” I pulled out of his arms and tugged him toward the open door nearby. “Come with me: I have something to show you.” Trying to suppress my grin, I ushered him into an empty lecture hall and closed the door behind us. 

Standing there, still in his work clothes and smelling of horse, Jamie was breathing heavily and looking as though he meant to either cry or fight someone or both. “Please say what’s happened so I can stop this aching in my chest.”

Despite his agitation, I managed at length to get him to sit in the professor’s chair. I leaned against the desk facing him, trying to keep back the storm of happiness. “You know I had my final examinations this morning?”

 A nod, a pause, and then a tentative, “…Did they go well?”

 “Very well, I think. But as I was gathering my things and headed out, my professor suddenly stopped me and asked if I’d be willing to assist one of the med-tech research departments with a demonstration. I was taken aback of course, but I trust Dr. Gordon—you remember, he’s the one that’s been so impressed and supportive?— so I was willing to see what was what, at least.” 

This exposition did not seem to have done anything to lessen Jamie’s tension; in fact, he looked downright ALARMED at mention of me participating in some sort of vague experiment. Well, so had I been! 

I went on, hastily. “And so he led me to the research wing and introduced me, and—And well, I called Fernacre as soon as they explained what it was that they were going to be testing out, because—Oh, Jamie, it would have been absolutely magical to show you as it was happening. But I managed to get the next best thing.” 

I handed him the glossy print, heart thudding. “It’s something like an X-ray, see? This was only a prototype—very few people in the world have used this technology.” He kept staring down, and I babbled anxiously to fill the silence. “It isn’t even a good likeness of the fuzzy readout I saw. I badgered someone to find a camera, and the flashbulb reflecting against the glass television screen makes it quite hard to see, and I’m sure the print itself isn’t great, either—I badgered another department to develop it for me quickly, so it’s barely more than a blur, but…”

For more than half a minute Jamie had stared down at it, turning it this way and that—

But finally, the image must have clicked into place, for he gasped and nearly dropped it. 

“You see it?” I was beaming, holding back tears. “Can you see?

“Is that…?”

“Yes,” I choked out, “that’s him.”

So engrossed was Jamie in the image before him that he didn’t immediately seem to hear me. Then, he looked up so sharply it must have hurt his neck, blinking like he’d stepped into bright sun. “H—him??”

“You can’t tell in this shot,” I whispered, not meaning it to be a whisper, but so hoarse with feeling I couldn’t help it, “but the technician was certain.“

“We’re going—” Jamie was grinning like an utter addle-pated simpleton. “—to have a—a wee lad?”

I nodded, smiling back but also weeping, lips pursed tight, and suddenly unable to speak at all through the lump of happiness in my throat.

“Oh, Claire…” Jamie was on his feet in a second, laughing and holding me as tightly as in the hallway, but this time in joy. “Oh, LOVE!” 

The next I knew, he was beaming into my eyes, holding my face. “I’d have been just as thrilled wi’ a wee lassie, mo chridhe, but….Jesus, God, to KNOW—!! It’s…absolutely miraculous.”

“Honestly, this is— unimaginable to me, too,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against his as I looked down at my belly (at my son!). “To be able to see an unborn child….To be able to see right into the womb without cutting! I never even dreamed of such a thing. Jamie, it…I saw him.” 

“And he’s—alright?”

“As far as they could tell.” I sighed and smiled, giving in. “Yes…yes, he’s alright.” 

If two sane people could be delirious with joy and relief, it was us. We must have looked quite out of our senses to any passerby, so intensely we were beaming and grinning and clinging tightly to faces and hands. 

Without preamble, Jamie stuck the precious photograph in his breast pocket, swept me up into his arms (ignoring any protest against handling my massive bulk), and settled back into the chair, cradling me in his lap. 

We sat there in beatific silence for I don’t know how long, with soft touches and wordless sounds of tenderness and awe. 

At last, Jamie simply couldn’t contain himself. “What will we name him? Our—son?” 

We hadn’t discussed names at all, to date—both of us perhaps afraid to tempt fate until the birth was closer at hand. But I had seen him, today—seen the outlines of his tiny feet move at the same exact moment I’d felt him kick—And it changed everything. There was still risk, and there was still fear; but the hope in me was glowing and radiating throughout my entire being. This child, this little boy, was alive and well. He would be well. And he needed a name. 

“Well, let’s see….” I beamed and traced patterns on Jamie’s shoulder. “I suppose we can’t have a Brian AND a Brianna.”

Jamie laughed, “No, indeed. The first Brian Fraser will get the big head up in heaven. Though what about your Da? Henry’s a good, strong name, aye? What d’ye think?” 

“I’d very much like to use it as a second or third name… but I can’t quite see it as his first.” 

“’His,’” Jamie echoed in a gleeful murmur. “…He’s a him.”

My delighted giggle hit me mid-kiss.  “Yes, darling,” I crooned against his lips, “he’s a him.” 

Jamie brightened. “Say, now, what about Robert? That was my wee brother’s name, and one of my Da’s as well.”

I must have made a face at this, for he smiled and rubbed my belly, leaning down to whisper confidentially, “Your mam doesna like your name one bit, wee Rabbie.”

I laughed and amended, fairly, “If you feel strongly about it, I might be persuaded. I’ve just—Honestly, I’ve never liked the name Robert. Robert…. ROBERT….” I tried the name several more times, making grotesque faces as I tasted the syllables. “No, sorry, just won’t do.”

Jamie wasn’t offended, and in fact, we both repeated the rejected name a few more times each, trying out ridiculous accents and intonations to completely rule it out as a frontrunner until we were little more than a mass of giggles there in the professor’s chair. 

Then, as if by magnetic force, we quieted and turned our eyes back to my belly—to our little him. 

We were still for a long time, both of us imagining we could see our son curled up asleep, as I had so briefly and hazily today.

“Lambert?” Jamie said. 

I smiled fondly, but shook my head.

“William?” I offered softly, a while later. “For your brother?”

Jamie made a sound of acknowledgment, thinking, but said nothing.

There was a bird singing outside the tall, sunny window. Leafy sun-shadows spangled the walls and a tiny breeze brought the scent of spring to surround us. 

And as a second bird chimed in outside our little haven, Jamie’s hand tightened lightly, significantly, on my belly, eyes shining. “What about…Ian?”

“…Ian…” I breathed back, putting my hand over his, feeling something settle perfectly into place. “Oh, yes, that’s….Ian…”

Not the blood-brother long-mourned: the brother of Jamie’s heart whose loss was still an open wound. They’d known each other all their lives; had fought together and defended one another, had been each others’ champions in battle and at home. And it struck me for the first time that Ian Murray was the only brother I myself had ever known, too. Ian had been a true kindred spirit, ever an ally in our den of blood-Frasers. And beyond that, Ian was—had been my friend. I missed his ready smile and his wit, his compassion….

Ian. 

It was painful—but perfect. 

“Ian…Henry,” Jamie murmured reverently. “A fine name.”

“Ian Henry…Fergus?…” I offered, my voice cracking.  

I felt the convulsion go through Jamie and I touched his face. I know, love. I know.

Lord, the grief—the grief of holding one son between us and longing for the one we’d left behind; and for Jamie, how much more raw that grief. For Fergus had been there with him for those two broken years, had been a joy and a comfort to him when little else could be; and we could never see him again. 

“Aye,” Jamie said at last, smiling weakly through reddened eyes. “Ian. Henry. Fergus. Beauchamp—”

“Fraser,” we finished together in a whisper, all four hands covering our little boy. Life and loss, joy and mourning, so inextricably intertwined. 

There were tears in Jamie’s eyes, as there were in mine, and his voice was deep and husky with love as he looked down at our hands and rubbed gently. “You’ll do them all proud, Ian.”

And damn me, if our little guy didn’t kick, right on cue. 

[renaroo]

Double Time (11/24)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence Pairings: Tuckington, Chex Rating: T Synopsis: [Hero Time Sequel] After the events of Hero Time, the city and Blood Gulch are prepared for the true return of superheroes in a big way. But while Washington is attempting to adjust to a new relationship and a new living arrangement, the call of new heroes and a new mayor mean major changes for his professional life as well as his personal one. How will the balance of values fare when his new partners come to test everything he’s made of.

A/N: Long time no see, I apologize so much but I needed to take some time for a really tough situation and it brought me back to a thunder, hopefully giving you something enjoyable in the process!

Special thanks to @analiarvb, @secretlystephaniebrown, @notatroll7, @thepheonixqueen, @ashleystlawrence, @a-taller-tale, @mercuryblacksleg, @thesolesurvivormichael, @icefrozenover, @washingtonstub, and Yin on AO3 and tumblr for the wonderful feed back! I truly appreciate it more than you know.

Young Just Us

There was an ache to his bones and his joints that was leading Washington to wonder what sort of side effects his miraculous healing thanks to Doctor Grey may have had that she had neglected to inform him of. Or, at the very least, that she had informed him of but was lost in the quick speed at which every other bit of information she had given him and Tucker. 

Which was also making him regret telling the doctor that it was fine to share confidential information with Tucker in the room since, well...

“It’s too early for you to be out there! Did you forget that you almost died? That that Locus dude is still on the loose? Oh my god, you want me to just stand on the sidelines through all of this like some dudesel in distress! Joke’s on you, Wash! I’m no Church!”

A certain headache was growing right between Washington’s eyes that was making him reconsider the importance of everything.

“From my understanding, Church had some helpful advice to give and a few inventions,” Wash mused, crossing another rooftop despite having to hold a phone to his ear.

“Did you just say I’m lower than Church?” Tucker asked hysterically. “I’m... wow, I’m beyond offended.”

“And if that’s what I had meant, you should be. Fortunately for all of us, I actually was--” Wash stopped talking when he saw the next checkpoint coming up. “Tucker, I have to get back to this. You can yell at me later.”

“Oh, boy, can I yell at you later. I have enough in me to yell at you for the rest of the week!” he all but threatened.

“Right, love you too,” Wash said, pulling his phone away to hang up just as he could barely hear Tucker say What did you just say--

As much as he hated hanging up on Tucker (which he honestly didn’t under the circumstances but it was easier to tell himself that), Washington had other responsibilities to attend to. 

Like the sound of polka music gradually increasing from the distance with minor explosions and a few street lamps falling over not far behind it.

Starring expectantly at the distance, Wash took a deep breath and checked the time. 

Slower and just as destructive.

It was like they hadn’t been running this drill for weeks or something. Washington, with all his aches and groans in check, was slowly losing his patience with the young recruits. 

... and with the gleefulness the Reds took in causing more damage than absolutely necessary for their drills. But that was another battle for another time. 

Seeing the Reds’ jeep rounding the corner and coming onto the end street with his pupils nowhere in sight, Washington took drastic action and leaped down from the rooftop.

Aimed just right, Wash managed to land right between Grif and Simmons and onto the front console, causing the two to scream like banshees before realizing it was him. 

“Whoo, Wash! You sure know how to make an entrance!” Donut called from the back before turning toward Sarge. “Sarge! Load me up.”

“Firecracker engaged,” Sarge said gleefully before planting said firecracker in Donut’s hand.

“Wait!” Wash called out only to be drowned out by Donut’s screams of fire! before lobbing the firecracker. “Okay that’s enough! Too much public damage for one night!” 

“You said that tonight we weren’t stopping until those young’uns finally put an end to our reign on the streets themselves!” Sarge reminded him, beginning to hand another firecracker toward Donut.

“Yeah, which we basically took as free range from now ‘til the end of eternity,” Simmons added.

“Your call, dude,” Grif reminded Wash. “And if you dented anything in my car for cool points swear to god I’ll instruct my sister to make Tucker’s shifts living hell for the next few weeks. We’ll see who’s got the best payback--”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a real change up from what’s going on right now,” Wash remarked. “And I’m going back on my word. This ends now before the entire block goes up in smoke.”

And with that pronouncement, he grabbed the firecracker from Sarge’s hand and grabbed the gear shift and put them in park, which nearly sent all of them flying. 

“Holy shit, what the fuck, that was the dumbest, what the fuck, you’re trying to tear up my car, fuck fuck!” Grif cried out. 

“Please, your fifth member is a mechanic,” Wash responded, breaking the firecracker over his knee as he jumped out of the car. He then did a full double take on the team. “Wait... where is Lopez?”

“Señor Brown in public, Fancypants Hero!” Sarge barked back. “We use codenames in this crew.”

“Right, whatever, where is he?” Wash demanded. 

“On a daaaate,” Donut said gleefully. “I’m so proud of him. He’s come so far!”

“Alright, enough of this,” Wash said, waving his hand and walking toward the street where the out of breath heroes were coming their way. 

The young heroes nearly tripped over themselves as they cam barreling toward the Reds and Wash. Almost immediately, however, upon seeing Wash they all stumbled to a halt, grabbing their knees and heaving. 

“So... so close...” Jensen gasped. She then flinched with the others as Palomo wheezed and hit the pavement in a massive body flop. 

Wash temporarily glanced toward Palomo before looking to the rest of them. “No. You weren’t close. You weren’t even in the same ballpark as close and we’ve been running these drills repeatedly for over a week now.”

“Blargh!” Junior argued, the only one seemingly not out of breath. 

“No excuses,” Wash argued, holding up his hand to stop the rest from joining in. “There is something about the dynamic of this team that needs to be tweaked. Something small, that if changed, would make the difference between mediocrity and excellence in your futures.”

Palomo, pushing himself up off the pavement, tilted his head in enthusiastic surprise. “You think we’re mediocre now!?”

“No,” Wash said with a scowl. “You’re on the road toward being that way.”

Bitters glanced to the rest of the team and then back to Wash. “Okay, I can’t be the only one who finds that insulting, right? I mean, I know we suck, but what kind of teacher admits it to us out loud?”

“The best!” Andersmith called out excitedly.

“Me,” Wash answered more directly.

“Who is the best!” Andersmith continued. 

“Well, if we’re on the road to mediocrity... isn’t mediocrity like halfway to decency? So can’t we just continue on it?” Palomo asked curiously.

“No, that’s not how we’re doing this,” Wash said. “We need direction. We need--”

“A leader.”

The voice sent a shock through them all, causing everyone to turn on their heels to face its origin. And, sure enough, Wash found himself facing his former saver and apparent fellow city hero, Felix. Smiling wide and invitingly. 

“How did you sneak up on us?” Wash demanded.

“Guess all you attention was directed elsewhere,” Felix shrugged as he walked closer to the young heroes. “Happens. Anyway, is this the young heroes that Kimball was telling me about? Training them up or something? Heard it was her idea. Guess your retirement was more eminent than I realized. You should’ve let me know if we’re going to be partners here, Washy.”

Washington couldn’t help the way his nose curled. “Washy? Really?”

Felix didn’t seem to even acknowledge the comments as he strolled over to where the young heroes were finally getting to their feet. They seemed more than impressed with his appearance, and were even bothering to dust themselves off and smile at him.

“Say, you know what this team is really lacking that would make all the difference in the world?” Felix asked.

“I was about to explain to them the new training regiment that would address that,” Wash said thinly. “Confidence-building exercises which will independently aid their growing comfort with their own powersets so they can learn new applications of them.”

“Ugh, so long and so boring,” Felix laughed. “We don’t know how quickly these natural-born heroes will be needed! It could be tomorrow!” The young ones gasped. “It could be today!” They gasped even louder. “We have to have the men prepared, don’t we?” 

“Um, and lady,” Jensen piped up with a timid hand up as if she was in a kindergarten classroom.

“There are no immediate preps for becoming a superhero,” Wash argued. “And these kids are not going into the field any time soon.”

“What!?” the kids all cried out at once while Junior honked. 

“You’re the barrier for entry?” Felix snorted before giving an exaggerated smile to the kids. “I think the whole country saw why that’s not exactly a high bar.”

Feeling the twitch return to his eye, Wash got in Felix’s face. “Right? And what exactly is your idea that would get things turned out sooner?”

“What you need here,” Felix said, rubbing his chin as he looked over the group, “Is a leader. And who better to be the leader than your most promising future hero?”

Everyone straightened up, delight in their eyes, but Wash could see that Felix’s gaze was only on one junior hero. 

And that junior hero happened to be Junior.

Wash tilted his chin back. “Oh no.”

[mosylufanfic]

Divination is an Inexact Science

Because for some reason, I have a mighty need for Killervibe fluff right now. Also, red velvet Oreos are a real thing that exists, you're welcome.

Divination is an Inexact Science

Cisco bounced into the cortex, beaming. "Iris!" he said. "Mazeltov."

She blinked sleepily over her coffee. "What?"

"Ohhhh," he said, flopping down next to her. "Am I premature? Oooh, maybe that's not a good word to use."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're being both mysterious and chirpy and I'm not caffeinated enough for either."

Across the cortex, Caitlin came out of her lab with a mug of tea. She stopped dead when she saw Cisco.

Cisco, focused on Iris, didn't notice. "Should you be drinking coffee right now? I mean, isn't that on the no-no list? I feel like it is."

"Would you just tell me what's going on?"

He leaned over, grinning. "I had a dream."

"So did Martin Luther King Jr. Get to the point."

"It wasn't just a dream. It was a vibe dream."

"Mhm," Iris said, twirling her hand in a "go on" sort of way. Caitlin hugged her mug to herself, watching wide-eyed.

Cisco made a little movie screen out of his hands, peering through it. "You and Barry," he said. "All dressed up in your Sunday best. Rocking hat, by the way, I approve."

Iris raised a brow.

With a giant grin and the air of someone delivering the pièce de résistance, Cisco said, "And - you were holding a baby."

Caitlin gasped.

Iris had just taken a sip of her coffee, and it went down the wrong tube. She coughed and spluttered and finally wheezed, "A what?"

"A baby! You know? Human, beta version?"

"I'm not pregnant," Iris said.

"You sure about that? Peed on a stick lately?"

"Cisco," Caitlin said in a tiny voice. Cisco didn't hear.

Neither did Iris. "No, but I'm still pretty sure," she told Cisco.

"Why?"

"Cisco," Caitlin said, louder.

Barry whooshed in. "Got it!" he said, handing Iris a bag from the nearest drugstore.

She pulled out a box of Tampax, a bottle of Midol, and a package of red velvet Oreos. "That's why."

"Uh," Cisco said. "Whoops."

"Like, I said, pretty sure."

"About what?" Barry asked.

"Cisco vibed us holding a baby last night," Iris said.

"What?" he said, hands frozen in the act of opening up the second package of Oreos. "Are you - "

She waved at the Tampax. "Uh, clearly, no. Hey! Those cookies are for me."

"That one's for you," Barry said, mouth full. "This one's so I don't eat out of yours."

Caitlin came over and grabbed Cisco's shoulder. "I need to talk to you."

He glanced up absently. "Hey, hi." He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Hang on a minute here."

To Iris and Barry, he said, "Look, this was a sure-thing vibe. I can tell that now. If it had shown lottery numbers, my fine ass would be down at the nearest gas station. So you’re not pregnant now, but maybe it'll happen soon. I mean, you crazy kids have been married a year and I'm pretty sure Caitlin explained the birds and the bees."

"The birds and the bees can go get stuffed," Iris said. "We're not ready for a baby."

Barry nodded. "Two years at least. We agreed."

"Babies happen when they happen, believe me," Cisco said. "And I'm so ready to be Uncle Cisco. You have no idea. I've already got a design for a super-reinforced bouncy chair. Even a baby speedster can't destroy it."

"Cisco!" Caitlin slapped her tea down on his desk.

"Whoa! What?"

"Iris isn't pregnant!"

"Yet," he said, holding up one finger as if he was about to make a point, "but - "

"I am!"

His eyes widened. His finger stayed in the air.

Through a mouthful of Oreos, Barry said, "Wai', whuh?"

Iris gasped. "Caitlin! Oh my god!"

"I tried to tell you in private," Caitlin said to Cisco. He was still frozen, as if she'd hit him with an ice bomb instead of the biggest news of his life. "You weren't listening to me."

Barry swallowed and said, "Wow! That's amazing. You guys - "

Iris looked at Cisco, then at Caitlin, and then said, "Babe, I'm late to work. Let's go."

"But - "

"Let's go," Iris said, and dragged him out of the cortex.

Finally Cisco seemed to come alive. "You - you're - "

"Pregnant," she said. "My guess is two months." She bit her lip. "Say something."

"You're sure?"

"I ran the blood test just now. Twice."

He blinked slowly, then jumped up. "You need to sit down."

"Um," she said, and he grabbed her shoulders and thunked her into Iris's chair.

"I'm gonna get you something," he said, hovering. "Like, milk. Or prenatal vitamins. Or ginger ale. Are you barfy? Is it still early enough for morning sickness? I'll get you ginger ale anyway, just in case."

"Cisco! I don't need any of those things. I just want to know what you're thinking."

She gripped the chair, watching him. He ran a hand over his hair, looking down at her. Big eyes, pale face, mouth in an anxious line. He sat down slowly. "I - "

"Yes?"

"I'm - I'm trying to figure out how I got so lucky."

"Lucky," she said. "You're - happy?"

"Happy? I'm fucking blown away. Oh my god," he breathed, taking her hands. "Oh my god, Caitlin, we made a baby. That's amazing. How'd we do that?"

She gave him a watery smile. "Antibiotics disrupting my birth control and a two percent failure rate on condoms. It's very common. It happens every day."

He kissed her knuckles. "No," he said. "It doesn't, it can't, it's too miraculous." He leaned over and kissed her lips. She put her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

Their rolling chairs pulled together and bumped armrests as they held each other close.

"What about you?" he asked, in her ear. "Is this okay?" Caitlin wasn't a baby person, exactly, and the topic of what she thought about having any of her own had never really come up.

But she said, "Beyond okay."

He angled his head to look into her face, searching her expression. "Yeah?"

"I'm really happy. I am. I know we weren’t planning. We haven't even been together a year. But you've been one of the most important people in my life for years before that, and I want to do this with you. I really do."

"Okay," he said, and kissed her again.

After some minutes, he pulled away again. "Whoa," he said. "I just figured it out."

"What?"

"My vibe. I assumed it was Iris and Barry's baby because they were holding it, but - godparents! Who else, right?"

"Oh!"

"Not that I'm assuming we're gonna baptize lil' bean here," he said quickly. "It just as well could've been a - is there a Jewish thing that's the same?"

"There is," she said. "We'll talk about it. But - yes. Barry and Iris, of course. Who else?"

He leaned his forehead against hers. "I - wow. This is not what I expected out of today."

"Me neither."

He tucked her hair behind her ears. "For reals, though, how are you feeling?"

"No morning sickness," she said. "A huge appetite. And I've been really tired. You know that."

"Yeah. You're, like, building a person. It's hard work." He looked down at her stomach. "Can I - ?"

"Of course you can."

He settled his hand lightly, gently over her stomach. "I've seen you, little bean," he whispered, and felt Caitlin press her cheek to his hair. "And you're beautiful."

FINIS

[phawareglobal]

Stephanie Volino - phaware® interview 242

Pulmonary hypertension caregiver Stephanie Volino discusses her daughter Anna's road to a PH diagnosis following the loss of her other daughter, Sophia, who passed away from pulmonary hypertension after one week of finding out that she had this horrific disease.

My name is Stephanie Volino. I am a caregiver of a young lady, Anna Volino, who has pulmonary hypertension, since she was four years old. I am also a caregiver of a little two year old girl, Sophia-Lyn Volino, who passed away from pulmonary hypertension after one week of finding out that she had this horrific disease.

The first time we heard pulmonary hypertension was when my daughter Sophia was born in August of 2005. Her umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck and I had to stop mid-push to allow the doctor to unwrap the cord and then when she finally did come out and they cut her cord, they realized her breathing was labored so they whisked her away very quickly and she was put into the NICU on oxygen and the doctor said that it was “like a pulmonary hypertension.”

They really didn't make it sound like a huge deal, that it was just like, “Oh, you know, this will get rectified after a few days on oxygen.” She did a test in her car seat, where she had to be hooked up to oxygen monitors and heart monitors and she passed with flying colors. They said "you're good to go, you can go home" and we gave the nurses and doctors hugs and we left and we went on our merry way and we had our beautiful family of four because my daughter Anna was born in 2003, so she was two years old and we had a newborn.

We took her home and life proceeded as normal. She was a really good baby. She ate, she slept, she produced a lot of dirty diapers. Anna was a little mommy to her. She always wanted to read to her and show her how to roll over and do all that big sister stuff. Then around four months of age, just like her sister, because Anna at four months of age just went blue a little bit. They started holding their breath. Like we did with Anna, we brought Sophia to the hospital. They put her on oxygen, they checked her saturation level. They wanted to admit her. Her coloring was still off. They did a series of tests and then a few days later we went home. They said to follow up with our pediatrician, which we did. Then everything was cleared. She was fine. We just thought it was a strange coincidence that both girls did this around the same time, four months of age.

We followed through with the doctors. We did everything as parents that we thought we should do and then when they medically cleared them both we thought that everything was fine.

In the spring of 2007, she started spitting up her food a little bit, so we brought her to the doctor because we were a little concerned. We thought maybe she had a food allergy. Our doctor thought maybe it was just acid reflux so he gave her pepsin. We were giving her the pepsin and it was still happening frequently, that she was spitting up. All of a sudden it was her two year check-up and when I went back, the night before, she had a violent episode where she projectile vomited straight across the table. I looked at my husband and we knew something was off . She was just limp in my arms and that was at the forefront of our conversation the next day with the pediatrician.

I said "I don't think the pepsin is working that well and maybe we should do further testing". He agreed. The doctor said "let's do an endoscopy, we're just going to put her under general anesthesia and take a snip of that tissue and see what it is". So we took her in the next day. It seemed normal enough, to be an in and out procedure, very quick, but he came out and he said when they put her under, she went blue and they rushed a cardiologist in to revive her. That's where our story with pulmonary hypertension really started.

The doctors at Staten Island University Hospital sent us from there to Cornell then onto New York Presbyterian Stanley Morgan Children’s Hospital. This happened all in the same day, and that's when, when we finally met Dr. Erika Berman Rosenzweig at the children's hospital. We were there for a week. They did tests. They had her on oxygen and then she went [to get a right heart] catheterization on September 19th 2007. She made it out of the catheterization, but Dr. Berman came out and said she had severe pulmonary hypertension, that the right side of her heart was enlarged. Her pressures where like 130 and they were trying out medications on her and she just couldn't handle it. Then that night, she spiked 107 fever and they had her on ice. They had us in the room and she began to crash and they worked on her and worked on her and then she just didn't make it.

We went back to the children's hospital with Anna. They checked her out. They said she had a tiny hole in her heart, but after all that we went through, that we really didn't have to address it at the moment, that we could just wait and do it within time. Dr. Berman also said that normally kids would get something like that taken care of around Anna's age, which was she was four at the time, because it was less traumatic to just do it, get it over with, than doing it when they got older.

We took all that into consideration. We said we were going to wait for little while. Then just a little time passed, a couple of months. Actually, she was getting ready to go into kindergarten, and I'd just registered her for kindergarten and then I thought to myself, “let me talk to [my husband] Joe about this, about getting that hole taken care of before she started kindergarten.” We didn't have to wait until she got older and she wouldn't have to panic because her sister died from a heart related disease. Even though it was something completely different, we didn't want her to worry about it.

We decided to go to a cardiologist in Morristown. He saw a blip on the screen when he did her tests and he said we had to go back to Dr. Berman. We were still in that numb state. We were traumatized. We were angry. We were upset. Our head was still spinning. It wasn't fully sinking in, because it was such a whirlwind when Sophia was diagnosed, 7 days until she passed. So we were still trying to figure it all out and what ground we stood on, because it didn't even feel like we had any ground to stand on and then we had this little girl.  That was the reason that I think, we survived initially, because we did have her at home and we were still parents and we had to raise her and then all of a sudden with the doctor saying “you have to go back” it was just shocking. I didn't know what to think, I just couldn't believe this was all happening again.

I've constantly felt choked up, like I couldn't breathe because it was unbelievable that we went through this one time and we were so young, early 30's and life was ahead of us and we lost one daughter and now somebody's telling me that my other daughter’s life might be in peril. It was an incredibly tough time to get through.

We repeated the same steps. She went into the catheterization and her diagnosis was much milder than Sophia's. They were almost at the opposite end of the spectrum, so to say. Even though she was diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension and we were devastated over that, we were just so elated that she was alive and that we got to take her home and take care of this. So we just put our best foot forward and we kept moving right along.

Doing the blood work every month was a struggle, she didn't want to go, she didn't want to get the blood work done. Then one day, miraculously, one of the phlebotomists said "let's sing happy birthday while I stick the needle in and you can blow out the candle when the needle goes in.” She sang happy birthday and he said "OK, now blow out your candle." She blew on her arm and in went the needle and it was like, we did that every time ever since, because that was like our little miracle for the moment because then she wasn't crying or screaming and I didn't have to hold her down. Then we would trek into the hospital, into New York quarterly to get her checked and when we would get her right heart caths done, every time without fail, these nurses would try and put us in the same recovery room that Sophia was in and Joe and I just couldn't do it.

I don't even know if I can say it shouldn't have made a difference, but it definitely did make a difference. Every time Joe would say, "I'm sorry," and explain the story. Then they would look at us, "Oh, oh, oh," because they have so many patients and everything. Maybe that was Sophia's way of saying “I'm here for my sister,” because we always considered her after that as Anna's guardian angel. I mean, without Sophia and her diagnosis and everything that happened, I don't know if we would have figured this out in Anna for a very long time, because her case was mild. God know where we would be or when we would have found out or how we would have found out. So Sophia, after she passed, was always looked at as Anna's guardian angel.

For a four year old to face all that she had to and then to face her own diagnosis and take medicine and go into the hospital and get picked and prodded and poked at and do all that, I look at her in awe for all that she's been through.

We look at it from the perspective of, we just try to keep moving on and look at it in a positive way and we wouldn't be here today without the doctors and everybody that's fighting for pulmonary hypertension and looking to cure this horrific disease. One day children like Sophia, they will survive. Every single one of them will. Those doctors are their super heroes. They fight every day for these kids. They really do. They will win. We will all win because of them, and because of our community.

Children like Anna are thriving today. When we first started out there were maybe three medications and now there's so many more, so much more we know. 10 years later, 12 years later, we just have to keep moving forward and supporting each other and supporting them. We're very appreciative of them, we put our trust and hope in them every day.

I'm Stephanie Volino and I'm aware that I'm rare.

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