#bay area hair doctor

[reidsdimples]

Doctor, Stalker, Special Agent

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

18+❤️‍🔥 MDNI‼️

TW: Unhinged/stalker/unraveling Spencer, smut, stalking

Too far, Spencer had gone too far and he knew it. But he was too far gone now to turn back. You were consuming him.

Click

You remove your shirt

Click

You remove your pants

He licks his lips and adjusts the lens on his camera. You are an absolute masterpiece. He can’t get enough of you.

Click

You stretch out like you always say after a long day. You bend over and touch your toes, giving him and your open window a full view of your perfect ass.

Click

You had driven him crazy all day. It was like you knew what you were doing to him- leaning down so your breasts peak out of your shirt right in his face. Grazing your ass against his thigh to walk past him in the bullpen. You even snatched his apple that day and bit it before tossing it back to him. He relished eating after you. He knew he wasn’t being himself.

He waited for you to finish stretching, pressing a palm against his aching cock to keep his need at bay. Finally you stepped into the bathroom and tossed your underwear and bra onto the floor outside the bathroom door.

He was quick, easing into the room as stealthily as possible. He snatched the sinful white lace panties off the floor and slid them into his back pocket with a smirk.

You wouldn’t miss them.

Maybe.

He inhaled the smell of your shampoo wafting from the other side of the slightly ajar bathroom door. He couldn’t get enough of your unique sent, even moaning as it engulfed him.

He finally decides to leave through the window which he came, slowly and with all his strength turning away from the object of his desire -naked and wet- just feet away.

“Oh fuck,” you mewl. Stopping him in his tracks as your angelic voice carries into the bedroom. “Dr.Reid-“

He couldn’t be hearing this correctly. There’s no way.

“Harder, right there,” you moan.

He gets closer the bathroom and can hear the sounds of you finger fucking yourself in the shower. Lewd squelching and moans have his dick standing at attention once more.

“Reid fuck!” You exclaim as you cum.

He braces himself against the wall, nearly exploding in his pants at the heavenly sound.

He had to go. Now.

So he did, he hurried out of the window and crashed into the drivers seat of his car-panting. He couldn’t help it, he pulled out his cock and pumped himself a few times until he finished while biting into your underwear.

—

“Coffee! Yay!” You squeak as Garcia hands one to you and Prentiss.

“No major case to brief on right now, Hotch wants everyone working their statements and files today,” JJ informs.

“Sweet,” Morgan snatches a donut from the counter and scoots out of the break area.

“Whoa what happened to you pretty boy?” Morgan whoops as Dr. Reid enters the bullpen looking particular sleep deprived.

“Long night,” he sighs.

You try not to watch him take those long strides to his desk, try not to focus on his disheveled hair and five o clock shadow. And was his tie crooked?

“Wonder what his deal is,” Prentiss frowns. You and Garcia shrug as he approaches for coffee.

“Morning Reid,” you beam like usual. His eyes dart to yours then immediately search for something else to look at. He offers you a flat smile.

“What’s up?” JJ tries to perk him up by smiling and elbowing him.

“Oh I know! You watched the Doctor Who marathon didn’t you!” Garcia points at him. “I told you you’d get sucked in and forget to sleep again.”

“I wish. I just couldn’t sleep,” he stirs his coffee and heads back to his desk.

“He’s been acting weird lately,” Prentiss notes.

“Foreal,” JJ agrees.

—

“Do you have that file on Roger West?” You peak over your desk to Reid’s.

He searches his stack and you find yourself licking your lips at watching his deft fingers work.

“No I think Morgan does,” he answers simply.

“Are you okay?” You walk over to his desk and lean against the edge of it.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat. You notice his cheeks turn red.

You reach over to scruff his hair like you’ve done playfully in the past but he captures your wrist. The electricity that jolts between the two of you is undeniable as he stares into your eyes.

There’s a silent acknowledgment of the heat between the two of you and he releases your wrist.

“I gotta- I need to find… I’ll be back,” he awkwardly dismisses himself.

You huff out a shakey breath and contemplate following him. When he doesn’t return in a few minutes, you head down the hallway he took.

“Reid?” You find him sitting at an empty desk in an empty office with his head in his hands

“You shouldn’t be in here,” he grumbles.

“Why? What’s going on with you?” You enter the office anyway and shut the door to give you two some privacy.

“I’m just having a problem, okay?” He shifts in his seat.

“What kind of problem?” You move towards the desk in a way that makes your tits jump. His eyes lock in on them and he throws his head back in frustration.

“You- it’s- you’re driving me crazy,” he breathes. He pushes his hair back from his eyes. When you smirk he tilts his head at you.

“What am I doing?” You play dumb and place your palms on the desk, leaning down and eyeing him.

He adjusts himself again, tugging at the fabric of his pants around what you can only guess is his hard cock. The desk hides it. He exhales a shakey breath.

“Does it hurt?” You glance downward and pout your lip.

“Yes,” he doesn’t hide it.

“And I did that?” You move around the desk.

He looks up at you with pleading puppy dog eyes but then he nods.

“I wanna see it,” you admit as arousal pools between your legs.

“What- I…”

“Please Reid,” you bat your eyelashes and park your ass on the desk in front of his chair. You spread your legs and rest your heels on either armrest.

He is physically shaking, he’s so turned on. You kind of wish you had wore a shorter skirt. But this one still gave him a nice look as your silk clad cunt.

He slowly undoes his zipper while you gently roll your skirt up… up… up. His eyes are fixated on the thin material covering your pussy. He isn’t aware of it but he’s licking his lips.

He pulls his hard cock free, his large hand almost able to wrap around the girth completely. The pink tip is angry and needy and he pumps it as you drag a finger up your core to tease him.

“So pretty, Reid,” you hum and circle your clit.

You buck your hips up and slowly remove your panties while he watches, whimpering and speechless. You slide them into his cardigan pocket.

You place one leg over his shoulder and slide him towards you.

“Do you want it?” You ask him.

“Yes please,” he begs.

“Then be a good boy and make me cum,” you pull him closer until your legs are on his shoulders.

He doesn’t hesitate to drag your hips closer to him, forcing you down on your back as he buries his face in your cunt. He moans into you and he drags his tongue from your entrance to your clit and sucks hard.

“Ah,” you moan softly.

It’s more to an he could have dreamed of, your taste, your moans, he could do this for hours.

He’s pumping his cock while he eats your pussy, greedily shoving his tongue into you and nuzzling against you with his entire face. You find yourself grinding against him, holding his head still while he devours you. His tongue flicks wildly over your clit until you’re biting back your moans.

When you think you can’t take it anymore he puts his cock in his left hand and slides two fingers into your cunt. He curls up while he eats you and works your G-spot. He moans in pleasure as he approaches his own climax.

“Gonna cum while eating me out Dr. Reid?” He grunts into you and focuses on bringing you to your orgasm.

“Fuck baby!” You pant as your stomach muscles tighten.

Then you’re shaking violently as you orgasm onto his face, clenching around his fingers which don’t stop fucking into you.

That’s it for him, he rolls the chair back and you watch as hot ropes of cum shoot from his cock. He bites his lip and throws his head back as he finishes himself with a series of lewd moans.

He eyes you as you roll your skirt down and he pushes himself back into his pants. Neither of you speak for a moment and you come down from your orgasms. His cheeks are red and his hair is messy, you reach over and wipe the sides of his mouth.

“My place, eight o clock tonight,” you say and walk towards the door.

He nearly stumbles coming after you.

“Okay, good, yeah,” he stammers awkwardly.

You turn and take his face in your hands, fixing his hair gently.

“It was about time we did something about this,” you smirk and grip his softening cock through his pants. He jolts and lets out a breathy laugh.

You kiss him gently and he returns with a needy sort of passion as he pulls you into him.

The office door opens and you stumble back off of him.

“Woah! Working overtime huh guys?” Morgan laughs.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Reid lies.

“Come on, we got a case,” he shakes his head.

Spencer follows you and Morgan back to the bullpen, he watches your hips sway, watches your hair move as you walk. You have no idea what you had just awoken in him.

Now that he got a taste of you, he wouldn’t be without it again. He checks his wallet to ensure that photo of you sleeping was still safe and sound behind his ID and smiles wickedly to himself.

“Reid? You coming?” You turn and ask.

“Yep!” He slides his wallet back into his pocket and hurries to the round table room.

[aneveningsword]

𝐔𝐧𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐥𝐬

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader warnings: not proofread words: 685 summary: a spare hair tie becomes the solution to Spencer's problem

masterlist

It's common knowledge that the curls Spencer Reid had were untammable. No amount of brushing, hair product or spray could keep them at bay. They seemed to have a mind of their own, and nothing could control their will. If they wished to defy gravity, that is what they would do, if they wanted to stick out the sides of his head making him look like a chicken, that's what they would do.

You found it endearing how no matter how many times the man tried to push the curls out of his face, they simply flew back into place. The annoyance was almost pliable, the emotion etched clearly on his face for everyone to see. You could not help but find some amusement in the Doctor's frustration. How something that seemed so simple could get the better of him. Spencer could recite useless facts off the top of his head, and he could pinpoint the general area where an unsub might be, but he could not win against his curly hair.

From the coffee machine, you could see how Spencer's body rocked with a deep huff as the hair he just pulled back from his face, flopped back into his eyes. It was a sad sight, seeing the frustration tense up his slender body. You felt a bit of pity for the man who was clearly debating just cutting off all his hair.

A warm cup of coffee in hand you head towards Spencer's desk hoping to provide the genius a simple and obvious solution to his problem. "Hair giving you some problems?" The question held a small joking tone as the coffee was placed in a small clear space on his desk. A place for it to sit as you pulled the hair tie off your wrist.

"Is it that obvious?" The man asks with an underlying tone of annoyance, something you do not take to heart. A small smile forms on your face as you are behind the desk chair he was perched on. His face contorts into one of confusion as he tries to follow you around, chair moving slightly as he tries to keep you within eyesight.

"Sit still, eyes at the front." you scold jokingly, grabbing the back of his chair to swivel him around to where you want him. A small huff would leave Reid, but he would not move from the spot you put him in. The elastic hairband in your hand would snap slightly as you begin carefully moving his hair into your awaiting hand. You attempted to be as careful as you could be, not wishing to tug on his hair and cause some pain.

With most of his locks secured in your hand, it was time to finish it off with the hairband. With precision and care, you would loop it around a couple of times to ensure it would not fall out before letting go of his hair altogether. A proud grin on your face as you eyed your work, while not all his hair was captured by the hair tie, it was good enough.

There was a moment of bliss as your fingers threaded through Spencer's hair, taking care not to get caught in the curls. It was relaxing, having someone else play with your hair. Soft and careful hands ran through his hair, curling it around your finger, it was bliss in his mind. A sensation he did not wish to stop.

"Done," Your voice pulled him from his thoughts as you spun him back around carefully to face you. Warm eyes look up at you expectantly, waiting for you to decide if your work was well done or not. He watched the concentration fill your eyes as you scanned over his face and hair, making sure no rogue curls were going to annoy him too much.

"Perfect, utterly perfect if I do say so myself." Your voice was filled with a sense of achievement, the smile you wore was contagious. The stress of his hair problems leaves him with the help of your simple solution. A well-placed hair tie.

[peterdarlingg]

Bloody promises

Pairing:Mob!tom holland x reader

Synopsis: it’s your first date with Tom in a long time. Though things don’t go as planned.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, blood, pain meds, angst. (I think that’s it let me know if I’m missing something.)

A/n: hope you enjoy! I love hearing feedback (nicely<3)

It was wrong place wrong time. You and Tom had planned to go out on a date that night, seeing as it’s been months since you both had spent quality time together.

You decided to just keep it simple and take a walk and eat some ice cream from your favorite place in London.

Taking a stroll all the while Tom is telling you about his day, how horrible it was, how someone owed him tons of money and how much he missed you.

You always took his mind off of his work. Looking back, you knew what you were getting into when you started dating.

After all, you yourself had come from the second most powerful mob in London. Your father though kept you in the dark about a lot of the bad and the ugly, seeing as he wanted to protect you but now this is your life permanently. Though Tom always tries to protect you from everything and anyone.

Many always tried to take down Tom and his mob and all were unsuccessful. That meant he always had full protection on the mansion and on you specifically. You always had a target on your back since you were considered Tom’s weakness and your father had his own powerful mob as well. So you thought who would dare go against the top two mobs in London?

Tom looking back now, was regretting not having his personal guard with him on your guys’ date. You specifically asked today, that it would just be you and him and that you were tired of having someone follow the both of you around and how you just wanted today to be private. “Please T. For me?”

“Things have been really stressful for the both of us and I just want to spend this time together. I know it would be good for us. Please. Just this once?” You begged him to be alone together. You had literally not once gone out wheather with or without Tom, without having protection. Just you and Tom.

He couldn’t say no to you.

~~~

“Tom, T-Tom please,” you cried out.

“We’re almost there darling, stay with me,” he strained, choking back his sobs.

“I can’t, I c-ca-an’t,” you choked out in pain.

Tom stepped on the gas and held your hand and kissed your knuckles and putting pressure on your wound on your side.

“Hey-hey, y/n, stay with me, stay awake okay, we’re almost home!” You could hear Tom faintly talking to you but it wasn’t really registering over your heavy breathing at this point. But you could feel the anxiety radiating from him. “Harrison!” Tom yelled bursting into the house with you in his arms, looking for his second in command. His yell echoed eerily through the house and just seconds later Harrison came running down the hallway, face panicked and alert.

“Get Claire here now!” He barked. Claire was a doctor and he pays her a hefty amount of money to work for him and the only one Tom trusted at that. Harrison opened his mouth just before Tom yelled “Ask questions later haz, now!” He ran down stairs to the med bay Area and put you in the bed. You were yelling in pain begging him for relief.

“Please make it stop,” you shouted voice straining in pain. “Make it stop,” you muttered, sobbing quietly. “Please..” you begged him. “Shhh” Tom whispered between your cries of help, tears searing down his face, holding you in his arms rocking you back and forth gently, arm wrapped around your head cradling it gently while his other hand continues putting pressure elbow deep in your blood.

You whimpered as he put generous pressure to stop the blood from flowing further. “Shhh, I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’m so sorry, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay love,” face buried in your hair, pressing his lips to your temple. “It hurts Tommy,” you muttered. “I know, I know my darling, it’s okay we’re going to get you fixed up okay?” He rasped. His heart hurt hearing the absolute agony in your voice. His mind kept going back to your date and how he could’ve saved you from this pain.

“You doing okay love?”, he noticed you were very quiet. You were sitting together on a bench in the park at night after having a mouth watering dinner. Not from those fancy restaurants Tom went for his formal meetings though.

You had always loved getting the greasy, mouth watering food from your favorite diner that had been around for forever. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asked while looking at you with all the admiration in the world. It was just you and him.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly at him. “I was just thinking that I don’t remember the last time we went out together, you know I just-“

Tom was brought back when he heard footsteps coming inside and he saw Claire. “What’s the damage?”, She asked Tom. You tuned them out, you felt heavy but on the clouds at the same time. Tom was holding your hand and still putting pressure on with his other. You didn’t look so good. Your face was white as a sheet and you were sweating profusely. Your body was shaking and shuddering. Claire was already going to work. “How much blood has she lost?”, she asked him. Tom let out a shaky breath, his anxiety overflowing. “A lot. A bunch of it…too much,” his voice barely above a whisper. “I-I-I’m-m cold-d.” You whispered. You were breathing rapidly, Your body shaking, curling up into you self as you tried to get warm.

“She’s going into shock,” Claire announced and she started working as fast as she could. “Get that blanket from the chair over there and wrap it around her shoulders. Now.” She ordered Tom while she continued working on you and pushing some fluids into an IV into your arm and hooked you up to various machines that made you look so fragile beneath them. In just a few seconds, Tom came back next to you and started covering you with the blanket and tucking it around your shoulders very effectively. He then proceeded to rub up and down your shaky arms continuously trying to comfort you and keep you as warm as possible.

He stood at the head of the bed and watched Claire starting to work on you. She had given you some anesthesia and pain meds so you were slowly getting knocked out at this point. Your eyes fluttered shut looking up at Tom, his fingers tangled in your hair, hand rubbing up and down your arms and leaned down and kissed your hair. He was the last thing you saw before you saw black.

~~~

You woke up to annoyingly loud beeps. Attempting to open your eyes was a struggle it was like they were glued shut. You felt a pang of pain down your side that came and went. Finally coming to it your eyes slowly fluttered open and you realized you were in the med bay in your home. Suddenly you heard muffled voices coming from the other side of the door. The voices got gradually louder and that’s when you realized it was Tom arguing with Harrison. You looked around the room and found evidence of Tom staying here by your side. His phone, cups of coffee and blankets and other clutter. The door opened abruptly and Tom walked in.

“Sweetheart, you’re awake!” Tom tried to look happy but you could see the concern and sadness clear as day in his eyes. “Yeah,” You croaked your throat scratchy and dry. You coughed harshly, wincing in pain from your side. Tom rushed to get you some water.

“Here, here darling, drink baby” he held up a cup of water to your mouth helping you sip, his hand cupping your head for support. The cold water felt incredible, like you hadn’t had a drink in weeks.

“More water?” He gently asked. You shook your head no. “No thank you.” You whispered head falling back from a sudden dizziness. “You okay, love?” “How are you feeling?” He gently probed, gently running his hand over your hair. “I’m okay I think, just a little lightheaded. “It’s probably the meds they got you on. It’s gonna go away in a bit don’t worry.” He said softly, sitting beside you on the edge of your bed.

“It’s okay it’s kinda sick actually, it’s like I’m drunk,” you giggled, turning into a full blown laugh. Tom started laughing as well seeing you all high and silly from the meds was very interesting to say the least. “Why were you yelling?” You softly asked him after coming down from your laugh attack. “What?” “I heard you and Harrison arguing out in the hall,” you told him. “Oh..I- I’m just so- I just can’t believe I let tonight happened. It’s all my fault and I’m not gonna stop till I find out who did this to you. I’m so sorry darli-“ “T, stop, take a breath.” You stopped his rambling. “It’s not your fault.” “Please don’t ever think that. It’s not.” You shook your head looking him in the eye. “You saved me.” Voice cracking, you smiled sadly at him, tears welling in your eyes. “No but I shouldn’t have had to save you from anything or anyone, you don’t get it.” He shook his head, getting worked up now. “I could’ve lost you tonight.” His voice cracked, eyes teary. ‘I could’ve lost you, I was loosing you.” His eyebrows furrowed a pesky little tear escaping his eye. You slowly cupped his face, gently wiping his tears with your thumbs, kissing his forehead.

“I’m here,” you whispered in the cold empty room. Just you and him. “I’m here Tom, I promise I’m not going anywhere.” You pressed your forehead against his, eyes closed breathing each other in as time stood still, just you and him. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you most.” you whispered back. He smiled gently. You don’t know who leaned in first but it didn’t matter you felt his soft warm lips on yours.

He Feverishly kissed you like you’d disappear and slip out of his arms at any moment. His fingers tangled in your hair and your hands around his neck. He was holding onto you so tightly but so gently at the same time. He deepened the kiss and held you tighter somehow if that was even possible. Both your limbs entangled and you couldn’t see where your arms began and ended. He was being so gentle and tender with you like you were made of glass, he never forgot that you were still freshly, badly injured.

Coming up for air both of you panting, you rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes enjoying being in his arms and in his warmth and presence. “Please don’t blame yourself my love.” You told him, voice soft. “I don’t blame you and I don’t believe that what happened was in any way shape or form your fault.” “If anything I’m the one to blame, cause you told me it’s best to have protection with us and I said no and-“ “hey-hey, no, you’re not to blame for this. At all.” He backed away to look at you.

“You just wanted it to be me and you.” “And that’s valid.” “I know you’ve been stressed lately. And I know I haven’t been making it better with me always looking over my shoulder. But I promise you right here, right now I’ll do better by you. I swear it.” He looked at you intensely, eyebrows furrowed. “Pinky promise?” You lightly laughed, trying to lighten the mood, raising your pinky.

He chuckled and held up his own. “pinky promise.” He intertwined his pinky with your own. Then hugged your head firmly to his chest, kissing your hair.

[jayburdxx]

Take Care.

Shigaraki x GN reader

CWs: pure fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you squint, swearing, blue hair shiggy, romanticizing a healthy skincare routine

Rating: E for everyone

▪︎▪︎▪︎

You joined the league later than the rest, but you held a very important role there - a medic. Despite your label as a healer, though, you were no less of an asset to the team as the rest of the members. You just had a certain.. fire in you. Brave, loyal, and fierce, but so gentle when you were tending to your team's wounds.

You tried to be the most gentle with your boss, Tomura Shigaraki.

He was.. tough to treat. He was avoidant of your touch. Scared of it, it seemed. Even the cold hearted Dabi let you wrap up gashes on his arms without much fight, but Tomura always flinched and tensed the rare times he accepted your assitance. The first few months of your presence, this was the case. But you didn't give up. That was something he liked about you. Your determination. He was still tense and twitchy, but slowly, he became much more agreeable with your care. Recently, he's even been putting aside Father to show you his face.

Today was rough for him. The stress of the last failed plan was tearing at him, and you could tell by the way he was scratching his skin raw. You were saddened everytime you watched his skin flake and trickles of blood fall from his scratch marks thoughout the day. But now that night was falling, you had managed to convince your stubborn boss to sit across from you in your makeshift medical bay in the base, the others not disturbing you.

"Your skin's been getting worse."

Father rested beside him on the metal table. You heard him grumble at your remark, followed by the sound of more itching.

You emerged from the bag you were rooting through, producing bandages and a small tube of cream. You stood and walked towards him with the tube and gauze in hand.

"I got my hands on something that'll help, though. the dryness and the itching."

"..Really?"

"Yes, really. It's just some carmine lotion, so it isn't too strong, but it should still help a lot."

Tomura eyed the tube curiously while you put it down beside him and reached for the alcohol wipes on your side table.

"This'll sting for a second."

You spoke softly once you brought the wipe to his neck and gently brushed his wounds. You felt him jolt and heard a small wince from him, but nothing more. It must have been a sensitive area. He avoided making eye contact. But that was quite usual for him, at least when it came to you. You applied the pads where they were needed and wrapped the gauze snugly around his neck to keep them in place.

"This should keep you from opening the scabs back up.."

You picked up the tube and unscrewed the cap, looking up at Shigaraki before you made your next move. It startled him when you looked into his eyes like that. Your eyes were so gentle, so different from how they looked in action. It always makes his heart skip a beat when they meet.

"Do you want to apply it yourself or should I?"

He took a moment locked onto your eyes, then he looked away and shrugged.

"You're the doctor here."

He tried to relieve some of his nervous tension by scratching, but he quickly put his hand back down when he remembered you had just covered those spots.

You smiled in acknowledgement. A very small smile, but a smile. He liked your smile. He couldn't place why. You squeezed some of the substance into your hands and reached for Shigaraki's face, but stopped.

".. It's okay if I touch you?"

He froze for moment. You had let him know beforehand so he wasn't startled, sure, but you had never explicity asked permission to touch him before. No one had. Maybe you could see how tense he was. Maybe you knew he didn't like to show his face, let alone have it touched. But whatever the reason, it made his breath hitch in his throat and a very brief, sharp wave of something foreign washing through his chest. The fact you cared enough to take his comfort into consideration. Of course, you were a doctor, that was your job.. but the way you had done it.. it was like you *valued* his comfort. His feelings.

He slowly nodded, closing his eyes and tensing in nervous antitipation. And your hands went to work on his cheeks first. Shigaraki could feel his heart fluttering. Your hands were warm, soft, and so, so gentle.. and gradually, he relaxed with a small exhale through his nose as he realized it was okay. As your warm fingers glided over his dry skin, he felt like he was in heaven. It had been so long since he felt such a careful touch. He hated that he liked this so much. The healing ointment your hands left behind made his skin tingle in a strangely nostalgic way. He could very vaguely remember this feeling, when his mother would apply his medications every morning as a child.. but before he could fully recall the memory, you stopped. He opened his eyes to find you with a worried expression. He realised he had been breathing quite heavily and shakily and was leaning into your touch.

"You ok? How does it feel?"

".. Better."

You smiled again, bigger this time. A smile of accomplishment.

"Good."

Then you took your hands away, and his skin was cold again. It disappointed him. He felt the urge to grab your wrists and place your soft palms back onto his cheeks. He could've stayed like that forever..

You glanced down at his hands, partially covered by the artist gloves you had given him to wear so he wasn't accidentally destroying things left and right. Then you looked back up at him.

"It's bad on your hands too, isn't it..?"

The mention of his hands made him twitch. He didn't want you touching his hands. He'd hurt you. He didn't want to hurt you

His face twisted.

"Why do you care so much anyway? I can do my job perfectly fine without all this fucking pampering."

He tried to scratch again, but grunted in frustration when he realised yet again he couldn't access his neck. His sudden biting words caught you a bit off guard, but you weren't phased. Shigaraki was unpredictable by nature, prone to tantrums and lashing out. You took a moment thinking about how to phrase your answer.

"Because you're my boss.. and my freind. And I care about you. And I don't like to watch you hurt yourself."

Your tone was both sincere and matter-of-fact. You weren't bothered by his sudden outburst at all. You never were. It frustrated him. No matter how much he tries to drive you away, you never fucking budge. But, deep inside, it made him love you all the more. he thought, and then he sighed.

"Why?"

"Mm.. I don't know. It's not like I can help it."

There was a tense silence for a moment as he bored his ruby eyes into you. Then he looked away. He always relented under your stare.

"... Fine..."

He grumbled his words, but he took his gloves off. You perked up. He refused to look at you, but he was still complying, and that's all you cared about. Really, he just wanted more of your touch, no matter what he had to do to get it.

"It's like you have a death wish."

"I'll be careful."

You reached for one of his hands, and carefully began massaging in the ointment. You took the opprtunity to explore. Running your fingers along all his callouses, finding spots his muscles knotted and gently pressing them. His nails were overgrown and jagged, and you thought about offering to cut them later. You noticed his fingers jerked away from you when your own got too close, even though he kept his pinkie curled up so all 5 couldn't touch you anyway.

You did the same to his other hand. By the time you were done... you noticed he was completely relaxed. Slouched on the table, head on his free hand, eyes half closed. Still alert.. but calm. The calmest you've ever seen him, actually. He hadn't gone to scratch once. You felt a little bad having to tell him it was now 2 in the morning and you both needed to get some rest.

"It's getting late. I should be heading to bed soon, tomorrow's another big day, remember?"

He jolted up from your sudden voice. He grunted softly in response, already missing your hands on his skin.

"It takes a few hours to fully soak in, so I reccomend you put it on after you shower."

He hid the extent of his dissapointment that you were implying this was only a one time thing, but you still noticed. You weren't stupid. Tomura Shigaraki, the symbol of fear, had practically been putty in your hands for the past hour.

".. You can always come to me if you need help applying it, though.. and make sure you're in here tomorrow so i can redress your bandages."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile after you turned away.

He could get used to this..

[marvelgurl789fanfics]

Remy Lebeau (Gambit) x Child OC

(Remy Lebeau (Gambit) x Rogue)

~Home (Part 3 to Safe)~

Papa (Part 2)

Warning: slightly suggestive moment (Gambit x Rogue)

(Not the best at grammar or punctuation)

Summary: Fiona officially meets everyone and settles into her new home with her papa.

Masterlist

~~~~~

Gambit woke up in the chair in the med bay, wearing his casual clothes ripped jeans, pink crop top one of his favorites. Glancing at the clock it read 6:30 am. ‘Finally mon petit getting out of here today, Gambit doesn’t think his back can take this chair much longer’ Gambit thought to himself standing up and popping his back. Looking at the child who started to stir awake as well, sitting up rubbing her golden eyes of sleep. “Good morning Mon petit” Gambit greeted the child kissing her head, “Papa!” Fiona cheered noticing Gambit presents for the first time this morning.

“Oui père here, Beast gave you the ok to leave here. Wanna go get breakfast?” Gambit smiled at Fiona who eagerly nodded. Helping the girl off the cot and down to her feet, Fiona now put her weigh on both legs equally. The bruises still noticeable but faded, another week they’d be gone he’d guess. Standing just above his knee in height , she was wearing light blue scrubs a bit too big for her. Her hair brushed and braided reaching her shoulders thanks to Jubilee. ‘Need to get Mon petit clothes’ he thought to himself smiling at the girl’s happy energy. “Up” Fiona said reaching for him Gambit just chuckled at the child, and pick her up resting her on the side of his hip.

Leaving the x men’s lab and into the more comfortable mansion, Fiona was looking around as he walked, amazement on her face as she took everything in. Approaching the kitchen they heard the usual morning cooking and talking. Entering the kitchen Gambit noticed it was Scott and Jean’s turn to cook breakfast, “Good morning Remy, and look who’s joining us today” Jean greeted them both. Fiona chose to hide her face and snuggle closer to Gambit, “it ok, Mon petit. She just being shy” Gambit lightly laughed rubbing his hand down the child’s back in a comforting manner. Fiona started to wiggle in his arms wanting down, and he set her to her feet.

Fiona started to walk around the kitchen island and into the open space with the table looking at the people in the area with curiosity. “Want père to introduce you to everyone?” He asked the child earning a nod. Leading the child back to the cooking area “these two be Jean and Cyclopes” Gambit said to Fiona with her holding onto his pant leg with a small hand. “Hello honey it’s very nice to meet you” Jean said kneeling to the girl’s height with a warm smile, Scott gave a kind hello of his own while tending to the stove top. Fiona just gave a small wave with her free hand, careful with the child who now attached herself to his leg Gambit walked back to the open area.

“You know monsieur Beast” Gambit said approaching the big blue man, Beast lifted his gaze from his book and look to Gambit and Quickly noticed Fiona at his feet. “Good morning Fiona, I am very glad to see you up and about” Beast smiled to the child, Fiona gave a smile back used to the doctor’s presence. “Gambit sure you met Wolverine and Morph” Gambit said leading her to the two leaning against the kitchen island drinking coffee. Fiona immediately glared daggers at Morph “meanie” she said firmly stating it as fact, earning a laugh from Wolverine. “Wow she’s really not letting the whole pretending to be you thing go” Morph said slightly chuckling. “That ain’t nice Mon petit” Gambit corrected her trying to keep from laughing himself. Fiona’s eyes almost grew wide with shock at Gambit’s disapproval even if he was smiling, “sorry” Fiona mumbled moving closer to Gambit hiding her face against his leg she still had a grip on.

“It’s fine kid, I’m sorry I tricked you.” Morph said in hope she’d let go of her grudge as amusing as it was, Fiona just nodded lifting her face to look at them. “Hey kid” Wolverine greeted not the best with children especially small children. Leading Fiona to the table and setting her on a chair next to Rogue and sitting himself next to her. “Last but not least Mon petit, these two belles femmes are Storm and Rogue” Gambit introduced Fiona to the two women drinking tea. “Hello child, I see your feeling better” Storm smiled to the small girl, earning a nod and a smile from Fiona. “Oh sugar you are just the cutest little thing” Rogue said happily, Fiona reached for Rogue’s gloved hand. Rogue let Fiona hold her hand, seeing the girl’s smile. “Seems Mon petit likes you to Cher. Watch her a moment, so Remy can get coffee?” Gambit asked with a raised eyebrow.

Rogue gave a nod of agreement, the moment Gambit started to stand Fiona forgot all about Rogue and reached for him. “Mon petit père not going far just getting coffee, you want some juice?” Gambit reassured standing and kissing the girls head. “Apple?” Fiona asked after Remy pulled away, “bien sûr” Gambit nodded and walked to get the drinks. “It’s ok hon he’ll be right back, you really like Remy don’t you?” Rogue asked knowing the answer but wanted to distract Fiona from watching Gambit’s every move. “Papa” Fiona nodded turning her attention to Rogue. “Yeah your papa’s a good man” Rogue chuckled petting the girl’s hair, Fiona just hummed happy from the head pats.

Gambit made his way back to the table with coffee he desperately needed and a glass of apple juice for Fiona. Stepping behind Rogue and Fiona’s chairs setting the glass of apple juice on the table within Fiona’s reach, leaning over to place a kiss to Rogue’s covered shoulder mumbling his love for only her to hear before headed back to his chair. “Breakfast’s done” Jean announced bring the food to the table with the help of Scott, Logan, and Morph. Everyone started to fill their empty plates, Gambit helped Fiona with hers. Fiona looked at the plate in front of her, she recognized the scrambled eggs and mini sausage links but was confused with the flat golden bread disk on her plate. Noticing her staring at her plate “something wrong Mon petit?” Gambit asked with slight concern.

“What that?” Fiona pointed to the gold bread disk. “It’s a pancake Mon petit, you never had one before?” Gambit asked then mentally scolding himself ‘of course she never did, she was in that lab her whole life’. “I promise you will like it sugar, just needs a little syrup. Try it hon.” Rogue cut in noticing Gambit inner term oil and poured a good amount of maple syrup on Fiona’s pancake for her. Fiona took her fork almost too big for her hand and ripped a piece off with the help of Gambit cutting the pancake up for the girl. Fiona’s eyes sparkled as she ate the first piece and hurried to eat a second piece earning a few chuckles from the adults at the table. “Told you” Rogue smiled at the girl eating happily.

“Where’s the Professor and Jubilee this morning?” Gambit asked the rest of the x men finally digging into his own food. “Xavier had to leave for a conference he’s attending this afternoon” Beast informed, “Jubilee left early this morning saying there was something important the professor tasked her with” Jean shared her knowledge. The rest of breakfast was filled with friendly chatting, Gambit eyes kept looking to the side to see his two girls he liked that thought. Fiona stole a sausage link from Gambit’s plate causing him to tickle her for her ‘crime’, making the girl laugh and try to wiggle away.

After breakfast Gambit took Fiona outside with Rogue to play since it was a nice summer day, Rogue sat on a bench under a tree watching her man child chase Fiona around pretending to be Godzilla she’d guess with the way he was moving. Fiona laughed running away until Gambit decided to actually catch her. Lifting Fiona up tickling her pretending to eat her with nom nom nom noises. “Save me” Fiona laughed looking over to Rogue, ‘guess I get a role in this game’ Rogue thought amused by her man’s goofy nature. “No one can save Princess Fiona, from le monstre” Gambit said in a horrible monster voice earning more giggle from the girl. “Let her go you mean monster” Rogue all but laughed playing along pulling out an imaginary sword and fighting Gambit. Gambit set Fiona to her feet and proceeded to fall back in the grass and pretend to die “le monstre been defeated” Gambit said from the ground in his monster voice.

Fiona processed to pretty much belly flop on Gambit’s chest earning an oof from him. “After saving the fair princess this is the thanks I get” Rogue teased Fiona. Fiona reached for her hand trying to pull her down too, Rogue laughed and gave in sitting on the grass too. Fiona crawled half way in her lap and laying her head on her thigh leaving most of her little body laying acrossed Gambit’s chest, then closing her eyes and falling right asleep. “Looks like you wore her out sugar” Rogue said quietly to not wake the child, reaching to run her gloved hand through Gambit’s hair earning a hum of approval from him. “Keep this up Gambit might fall asleep too” he hummed his eyes closing smile clear on his face.

After a half hour of watching over the napping two, Rogue seen Jubilee all but run up to their group excitement clear. “I see you guys are enjoying an afternoon nap in the sun” Jubilee laughed quietly. “You should have seen them running around earlier, especially Remy’s monster impression” Rogue laughed back, waking Gambit up. “Gambit did a great monstre impression” Gambit said through a yawn sitting up gently without waking Fiona he moved her to his lap allowing Rogue to stretch her legs out from their crossed position. “How’d that important task from the professor go sugar?” Rogue asked making the grin on Jubilee’s face widen. “I’m pretty sure I nailed it, come on” Jubilee said jumping up waving them to follow her.

As they stood from the ground, Fiona woke up being held in Gambit’s arm with a sleepy look like what year is it. “Papa?” Fiona questioned rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Look who’s here?” Gambit said placing a kiss to her hair line then gestured with a head tilt in Jubilee’s direction. Fiona looked over and gave a wave to Jubilee still waking up, “Hey Fiona I got a surprise for you that me and the professor been working on” Jubilee said Fiona eyes lighting up at the word surprise all tiredness gone. Jubilee lead the three inside and upstairs to the bedrooms specifically the room across from Gambit’s room, opening the door with a tada Jubilee gesture them to enter.

The room had a twin bed pushed to the far wall with pink sheets with a purple comforter with a light pink canopy draping around the bed, a few stuffed animals lined the top of the bed by the pillows an orange cat, next a purple bunny, and finally a white dog. Next to it was a wooden side table with a rotating fish tank lamp with a comfortable looking purple plush chair near by. The right wall had a dresser and wardrobe with shopping bags in front of them filled with clothes to be put away. The left side had a bookcase with some children’s books like Alice in wonder land, the very hungry caterpillar, and a few dr.seuss books. A doll house all set up with two Barbies sitting at their tiny table Jubilee most likely set them there. The room was finished off with shear pink curtains covering the window by the bookcase and a light blue rug covering the open space in the middle of the room.

“Do you like your new room?” Jubilee asked Fiona containing her excitement not to scare her, Fiona wiggled from Gambit’s arms her eye sparkled. “Room?” Fiona asked looking at all the fun stuff in the room. “Yep this room is all your, and the best part is Gambit’s … I mean your papa’s room is right across the hall” Jubilee shared happily but her smiled broke when she heard a sniffle noticing Fiona crying. Gambit got to his knees and pulled Fiona in a hug allowing her to cry. “Did I do something wrong and scared her?” Jubilee asked concern filled her entire body. “Gambit don’t think these tears from sadness” Gambit reassured Jubilee still hugging Fiona. “It’s a lot for her to take in sugar she never had any of this before” Rogue said placing a comforting hand on Jubilee’s shoulder.

After a few minutes Fiona calmed down, and began look around her new room happily and hugging Jubilee’s legs. Jubilee decided to be Fiona’s older sister from that moment on, and had to show Fiona what she missed before Gambit found her. After Jubilee and Rogue helped Fiona put on a short sleeved pink t-shirt dress that Fiona loved instantly, Jubilee dragged Fiona to the Rec room and turning on classic Disney princess movies that she claimed every little girl has to watch. Gambit sat on the couch with Rogue while Fiona and Jubilee chosen to sit on the floor in front of them. The rest of the day was filled with movies with the two girl on the floor singing along to the songs Gambit sometimes joining in when he wasn’t placing sweet innocent kisses on Rogue shoulder. Gambit decided to order pizza for the four of them for dinner, and as expected Fiona immediately loved this new food.

As it got later in the evening Gambit took Fiona to her room seeing as how the girl was struggling to stay wake. Helping her into light green pajamas with cute frogs on it, and tucking her into her new bed. After reassuring Fiona she was safe and he was just across the hall, Gambit turned on the fish lamp and turned off the main light. Before he left Fiona was already fast asleep, sneaking out leaving her door open just a crack and made his way to his room. Not caring it was only 8:30 Gambit changed into sweat pants and collapsed on his bed, how he missed the comfort of his bed. The sound of his door opening got his attention and lifted his head enough to look at his uninvited guest. Rogue slipped inside his room closing and locking his door behind her a smirk on her lips pulling out the power dampener from behind her back, “Thought you could use some help relaxing, papa” Rogue teased.

~~~~~

My ADHD has me in a writing mood, any suggestions/ideas of what people would want to see in this series are welcome.

Thank you all for the support!

I don’t know French, all French is from google translate:

Mon petit (my little one)

Oui (yes)

Père (dad/father)

Monsieur (mister)

Belles femmes (lovely women)

Cher (dear)

Bien sûr (of course)

Le monstre (the monster)

Part 4:

[queenhunter102]

PART 2

(Part 1) (Part 3) Lore Page

You watched as your legs swing off the exam table, in the Med Bay you stared at the Alpha that hauled you into the Med Bay after the scuffle with that young Alpha, you wondered if you could take him in a fight almost as if he read your thoughts he glared at you.

You shifted your eyes from the man in front of you to the Doc on the other side of the room, you pull your legs up onto the table as you watch him gather wipes and plasters Doc sits down on a small rolling stool, sliding across to the table.

You watch him eye your scrapes, and bruises setting out each wipe and plaster accordingly you pull away from Doc not wanting him to touch you, Doc tears open a wipe and shows you his hand with the wipe in it before he tries to touch you swipe at his hand warning him.

The Alpha growls at you causing you to snap your head in his direction, glaring at him you growled in response not backing down, your growl scared the Doctor.

“Ok Captian get out,” Doc said irritated, the ‘Captain’ looked at Doc like he just shot his puppy “But Doc she just took a swipe at you” he huffed.“Only because she’s stressed out” Doc snapped, getting out of his seat, and shoving the ‘Captain’ out of the room into the hallway.

“Is that better now?” Doc asked as he watched your omega relax just a touch “Yeah that’s much better” He muttered sitting back down in front of you and taking the wipe back in his hand, you swipe at him again, Doc takes a moment trying to find a solution 

“Ok, here,” he said holding the wipe out to you, you take it and happily clean your scrapes and apply the bandages, Doc rolls away from you towards his desk picking up a notepad and pen, rolling back to you.

“Do you have a patch” he questioned, you showed him your right arm turning your wrist to him, “Can I check it?” he asked, you nod as you apply the last bandages he gently takes your arm, gently probing at the area, and gently pulling at the skin.

You watch him knowing what he is looking for, Red rash, bruising, broken or bleeding skin when he finds nothing he lightly grazes over the patch checking the battery life on it.

“What make and model is it,” he asked.

“Avey’s Passion, model number Ao2978356” you rattled off, Doc lets your hand go and writes down the make and model. You took the time to look at Doc, his deep brown hair littered with grey strands, pulled back into a sleek ponytail, his white coat accentuating the pink undertone, in his reddish-brown skin, you tilt your head trying to catch a glips of his eyes.

“Isnt the Avey passion not experimental”  the ‘Captian’ asked, causing you to jump letting out a little yelp, Doc glanced up at the ‘Captian’

“Yes to Alphas, but it has been around for years, the company used to be underground,” Doc said looking back down at his notepad, watching the ‘Captain’ staring at him, analysing him.

Doc lightly taps the table gaining your attention, you look at his hand then him waiting for him to speak.

“When was the patch issued,” He asked, looking at you expectantly “Two and a half months ago,” you say, Doc only nods writing it down “Ok and when was the last testing”, your mind blanks, Doc looks up at you.

“Eh…two days ago,” you say, Doc nods and writes it down “Ok who tested it,” he asked, “Ben from Neo Crop,” you state, Doc writes it down then tears off a piece of paper and give holds it out to the ‘Captian’.

The ‘Captian’ takes it “What's this?” he questions, “Her prescription” Doc replies, the ‘Captian’ looks down at nodding his head he starts flicking his fingers as if he was counting. 

“Right ok, come on then little one,” he says turning to you, you growl at him warning him to stay away, ‘Captain’ grabs your face applying enough force so he doesn't hurt you.

“Now you listen here you little shit, I’m the Alpha and you're the omega so fucking act like one” he grits out, you snarl at him, not backing down just because he was alpha didn't mean shit.

[lenievi]

What Are Little Girls Made Of? coda

Spock/Chapel

When Spock found himself in front of the sick bay, he was not entirely surprised. He still had a chance to turn back and retire to his quarters, and no one would be any the wiser. It was—he was sure of it—the more logical choice, but his logic was always disturbed when it came to Christine. His efforts to suppress it for years notwithstanding.

Spock exhaled and entered the sick bay. It was empty. He followed the sound of glass clinking into the lab area. As he expected, Christine had buried herself in work, reorganizing the entire content of the storage cabinets, moving fast and efficiently, quite unaware of her surroundings.

���Nurse,” Spock said, as she put down a beaker.

Christine stiffened. “Mister Spock.” She didn’t turn around. “Doctor McCoy isn’t here.”

“I’m looking for you.”

Christine let out a shaky breath, so quiet that if Spock were a human, he wouldn’t hear it. He walked closer, past the table, and stopped a few steps away from her. Neither said anything. The hair around the nape of her back was messy, in need of combing. Was it still as soft as it used to be? Spock clasped his hands behind his back. Thoughts were just thoughts, but they could be dangerous.

“Is there a problem?” Christine asked, finally facing him, her eyes red but dry.

“I thought”—Spock shifted, uncomfortable and uncertain, wanting to help, unsure of his welcome—”you could use… a friend.”

Christine smiled sadly. “That’s… that’s kind of you, Mister Spock.”

“I am sorry your search for Roger Korby didn’t have a more desired outcome.”

Christine folded her arms over her chest, and Spock knew it was a bad thing to say. “Can we… can we not talk about it?” Christine looked at the ground, her fingers digging into her upper arm.

Spock nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. Perhaps, he should have never come. He was never able to offer her the comfort she wanted. He never knew how. “Do you… want help?” The thought of leaving her alone left Spock with an unpleasant feeling. 

Christine startled. Spock took a beaker and gave her a questioning look. Her eyes softened and maybe, maybe Spock made the right choice.

“You can take care of the left cabinet,” Christine said. “It’s been already labeled.”

They worked in silence, the only sound was the clinking of beakers and flasks, so when the glass shattered, it was loud. Christine stood still, tears running down her face. Quiet, so quiet. Spock felt his body moving. How long had she been crying? He embraced her, his fingers burying in her hair—still so soft and beautiful.

Christine dug her fingers into Spock’s back, pressing closer, as if she wanted to crawl inside him, as if he could protect her from reality.

“Christine,” Spock murmured, and she buried her face into his chest, sobbing, her shoulders shaking. Spock ran a soothing hand over her back and kept quiet, hoping that his presence and touch would be enough. Could ever be enough.

Later, she’d apologize. He’d tell her that crying was a human prerogative. She’d smile and they’d part not quite awkwardly, knowing that nothing had changed.

And later still, late into his meditation, he’d regret not telling her he was glad she decided to stay with the ship, and would lock the feeling deep down.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Worst Day

Part 6 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Description: You're not sure what you'll do if Jake doesn't pull through. It's true - your relationship isn't that old - yet you can't help feeling like the connection between Jake and you is far deeper than a paltry fling. So seeing Jake, your Jake, prone and motionless in a hospital bed is more than you can bear. But you're a fighter, and so is Jake. Having some pleasant company while you wait, that's great too.

Disclaimer: Mentions of injury. Military Deployments. Long-distance relationships. A very eerie nightmare (mentions of blood)

Warnings: Female Reader

Word Count: 4288

Author Note: Here’s Part 6 of Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car). Jake finally makes his way stateside again, but as we know from the last episode, things don't look too good! But it'll get better... ish. Love ya! This chapter was wholly written by listening to the song Worst Day - MAX x Illenium on repeat. All of the bold + italicized parts are lyrics from the song!

AO3: Cross Posted Here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

It’s been twenty-four hours since you found out Jake has been injured. You’ve been a nervous wreck, barely sleeping or eating as you wear a worn trail into your kitchen tile. You’re running on fumes of coffee and unadulterated spite, every pore in your body rebelling, when you get the call from Maverick saying that the medevac will be landing in half an hour and will be transporting Jake to Naval Medical Center shortly after. You're nervously grasping the steering wheel of Jake’s truck the entire way there. Soon enough, you’re propping up a corner of the Emergency Room waiting room. Just as you’re about to call Maverick again, a flurry of action erupts against the ambulance bay doors. Doctors and other medical personnel descend in droves. You’re on your feet the minute the doors open, walking towards the doors. 

You look a mess. You’re wearing your rattiest pair of jeans and a torn, worn t-shirt that’s inside out. Your hair hasn’t seen a comb since you woke up at 3 in the morning, what feels like a lifetime ago. All you care about is Jake. Your first look at him in three months nearly sends you to your knees. He’s motionless lying in that hospital gurney. His skin is pale, but for the lurid bruises painting his skin. You’ve never seen Jake this motionless, this still. He’s the life of the party, at the center of every gathering, always moving and his energy is infectious. But like this? The sight burns like a blade, cutting you from neck to sternum, seeing him unmoving, letting things happen rather than doing . You don’t even notice your knees give out, only registering the sharp crack as they smack into the tiled flooring as you collapse. You watch vacantly as the team of medical professionals cart him right into an operating theater. But no matter how you try to move, you can’t get your legs to cooperate.

The hands that help you up are Maverick’s. You’re not sure when he reached the hospital, but you’re so glad he’s here. He hugs you as you cry, hopeless gut-wrenching, exhausted sobs that rack your entire body. You’re wrung out when you stagger to one of the chairs in the waiting area in front of the Operating Room. In truth, you’re not likely to get much information until a doctor comes out to speak to you. Each halting breath you draw cuts like a thousand knives as you sit hunched over with your elbows on your knees and stare unseeingly at your steepled fingers. Worry and shock and fear and pain cloud every sense.

As an hour turns into two, then three and four, you slump against the back of the chair. Your eyes are itchy, heavy, and swollen with the many tears you’ve shed over the past day. Sleep is practically clubbing you over the head, and you’re quickly losing the battle to stay awake. Maverick is still standing at attention, green eyes intently boring through the closed operating room doors. In the span of a few breaths, you must fall asleep because the next thing you see is Jake. 

Closed my eyes and had a dream

About a lonely place

Where flowers only bloom in gray

All the magic turned to dust

Only memories left of us

It’s a place you’ve seen before, one you remember being before, in fact. A picnic out on Mission Bay, if you remember correctly. It was a date early on in your relationship, one back when you were still trying to figure Jake out. He’d driven you to the park and laid out the picnic along with a chilled bottle of wine. The two of you had talked and laughed the entire afternoon away. But while you're seeing everything as you remember, something's just ever so slightly off. All the colors are oversaturated and yet faded at the same time. It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve been that happy. You feel like you’re in a movie reel, seeing Jake’s smiling face after so long. He’s close enough that your fingers should be able to make contact with his skin, but every time you get close enough, he disintegrates the minute you touch him. 

I'll never see that tree thе same

The one that we both carved our names

Into with razor blades

Then made out in the summer rain

It had started raining partway through the picnic, and you’d taken refuge with him under the boughs of a colossal willow tree. Sheltered under that tree he’d helped you carve your name and his into the aged wood before kissing you like you were everything he needed to breathe. You’re there now. But when you try to fall into the kiss, Jake’s face shatters into sand in your fingers. It’s sticky and warm and wet when you clench your hands into a fist. 

But it’s not sand in your hands when you look. It’s blood, dripping from your fingers, splattered over your face, and staining your dress. The droplets are hot and cloyingly sticky as you try to fight your way to water to wash them away. Suddenly, the willow tree’s branches grip and tear at your dress, skin, and hair. The entire time you fight the grasping branches, you can hear Jake’s voice. But it sounds completely unlike how you’ve ever heard him before. His voice is pained and harsh, screaming your name for help, for assistance. Each word rips into you, tearing you apart because while you fight to reach him, you never seem to get any closer.

You jolt awake, tasting copper in your mouth to the sounds of more medical professionals running into the Operating Room and Maverick hovering in front of you. 

“What happened, Mav?” You swallow uncomfortably, trying and failing to summon enough saliva to wash the traces of metal from your mouth.

“I..” He runs his hands through his hair before slumping into the chair next to you. “I dunno, kiddo. They were calling a code blue through the hospital PA.”

“D-did something go wrong with Jake’s surgery?” You can’t hide the fear in your voice.

But with his lack of response, you don’t know anything more than you had before. This time, as you settle down to wait again, there’s more fear filling your mind. Your mind is trapped again in that constant loop of  ‘what ifs’, ‘what happeneds’, and ‘what nexts’ again. Please let the code blue not be for Jake. Please. But as you’ve discovered intimately over the past day, your prayers are rarely answered by the powers that be, if they exist at all. You’ve chewed your lips until they’ve bled, and every muscle aches when a doctor steps out of the operating room.

“Hello, are you here for Lieutenant Jacob Daniel Seresin?” You can see the exhaustion lining his face. 

“Yes. I’m his emergency contact.” Your voice shakes as you stand up. “This is his CO, Rear Admiral Pete Maverick Mitchell.”

“It’s nice to meet you, miss.” He snaps off a quick salute to Maverick before turning back to you. “Lieutenant Seresin’s surgeries have been a success. We were able to reduce the swelling in his brain and set his tibia and collarbone. Partway through the procedure, Lieutenant Seresin went into cardiac arrest. Thankfully, we were able to stabilize his condition and get his heart beating again.”

You’ve got your hand over your mouth as his words hit you, wrapping an arm around yourself to keep from collapsing at his feet. 

“What does this mean for his recovery, Doctor?” You need to know.

“We’ve placed Lieutenant Seresin in a medically induced coma. This is to allow his brain to heal further. We’ll keep an eye on his recovery the entire time he’s in the post-anesthesia care unit. Once we’ve determined his brain has healed enough, we’ll stop the medication and allow him to come out of the coma. Then we’ll assess his physical condition from there.”

You can’t hide your relief or how tears well up in your eyes at the words. Mav wraps an arm around your shoulders. “The doctor says he’s going to be just fine, kiddo. He’s going to be okay.”

You know what Mav means, but a part of you can’t believe it. Not until you see it. Sure enough, just as Mav said, it’s barely a quarter of an hour later that the hospital bed with Jake in it is wheeled out. It's with a considerable amount of relief that you watch eagle-eyed as the doctors and nurses settle Jake into the hospital bed in his post-anesthesia care unit room. If only you could recognize the man you see before your eyes. This stranger? You're having a hard time reconciling him with the impression of Jake in your head. Jake’s always been filled with a sort of uncontainable energy, like lightning whipping through clouds, gathering momentum to strike where you least expect it. It’s a part of your relationship with him that you enjoy the most. He’s never boring, and you never feel like you’re boring with him. 

So when you droop into the chair by the bed and take in the sudden hush inhabiting the room now that it’s just you and him, a part of your brain feels like it’s stuck. It’s a constant feedback loop of worry and pain and terror ruling your brain right now. Despite the consistent tinny beeping emanating from the heart rate monitor, you can’t believe that Jake’s going to be okay. Each breath you force into your lungs stinks of that special hospital smell of disinfectant and cleaning products and sickness. You grip his hand, gasping at how cold the fingers are, how the strength seems to have drained out of them. You can still see the bruises peeking out from beneath the hospital gown. His head is shorn close to his skull, and you can just make out where they had to cut into his skull to reduce the swelling in his brain through the bandages swathing his skull. You love this man. So why is it that you can’t stand to see him like this? With a ventilator helping him breathe and drugged up in a coma while his body heals?

Worse still, you can’t help but wonder what this means for what Jake loves to do the most in the world. Will he ever be able to fly again? Jake flies like it’s in his blood, like he’s made to do it. He adores it. Did this incident, be it accident or deliberate, just strip him of the capacity to do the one thing he’d always dreamed of doing? Then there’s the thought of Jake’s family in your mind. How do you get in touch with Jake’s brothers and sisters? You know Jake’s not close with his dad. But his mom and siblings should know, right? But if Jake wanted one of his family to know, wouldn’t one of them have been his emergency contact? The thoughts have you kissing the palm of his cool limp hand and dragging the chair closer to the bed. Your voice is barely there as you finally speak after hours of silence.

“J-Jake.” Your voice hitches on a sob as you glance over his face. "What happened, handsome? This was supposed to be a routine rotation on board. You weren't supposed to get hurt."

A part of you can’t help but wait for a response. But one doesn’t come. Jake’s still and silent with a ventilator over his mouth, and his eyes closed. If you’d known any differently, you would have happily assumed Jake was just sleeping. But he’s not. You want nothing more than to hear his voice again.

“Jake, Oh, I almost lost you like that” Your voice is soft as you cup his jaw, leaning over his still form, tracing your way gently over the stubble growing on his cheeks and chin. “Oh, don't wanna think about that, Oh, don't wanna think about that, The thought of you never comin' back”

You’re still clutching at his hand a few hours later when a couple of nurses stop into his room to take his vital signs and subsequently chase you out as visiting hours end. It leaves you out in the parking lot in Jake’s truck longing for the days when you could have just picked up the phone and called Jake when you missed him. The two of you have had so many conversations like that, spilling secrets in the dead of night, and it’s one particular conversation that you remember the most.

It was late and well into the witching hour. You’d been out with Jake once again, and once again, time had gotten away from both of you. You'd been lying in the bed of his pick-up truck, star-gazing yet again. But you weren't near North Island, not this time. You'd driven north and west, leaving San Diego in the rear-view as Jake's truck ate up the miles between you and the Mojave Desert.

In a small camping area just off the desert, Jake had parked the car and helped you into the truck’s bed via the tailgate. He'd pulled out two paper cups and a bottle of champagne.

"What're we doing now?" Your voice had been questioning as he'd proffered the cup to you with the biggest grin.

"This, gorgeous, is because I missed you. It's been a long week, my darling girl. What better way to spend time with each other than you, me, some good alcohol and dinner under the stars?"

You'd sipped a mouthful of alcohol from the cup before setting it down on a stable bit along with the bottle and Jake's own before levering yourself into his lap. The kisses you'd shared with him that night had tasted like champagne bubbles and pure joy.

"Not that I mind, pretty girl, but d'you want to tell me what that was for?" You can still remember how his voice sounded.

"It’s been,” You’d peppered another few kisses across his lips and cheeks, “a completely harrowing, disgusting week. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. The worst part is that it felt like no matter what I did, it wasn’t enough. You’ve described it once, you know? The feeling when you’re up in the sky flying supersonic when you go into a turn and the whole world seems to be sitting on your chest? That’s what this week has been like for me. And I can’t. I can’t tell you that it was just one thing weighing on me, because it’s not. It feels like a perfect storm.” You’d buried your face into the crook of his neck after you’d finished speaking, taking in the scent of his detergent, cologne and the ever-present light whiff of jet-fuel embedded in his skin.

“What about now, baby doll?” His big hands feel so good against your back as he massages the tense muscles running down your back. You’re plastered so completely against him that you can hear the rumble of his voice in his chest as he speaks. You shrug, infinitesimally, burrowing even closer to him. Your voice is muffled in the fabric of his shirt as you murmur, “It’s always better with you, Jay. Always. Love you.”

Jake had finally coaxed you out of his arms and into eating some of the food he’d packed. The night had ended with the two of you lying side by side in the bed of the truck looking up at the stars. This far from the city and its light pollution, you can see thousands of pinpricks of light shining in the sky above. You’ve been pointing out the stars for a while when Jake tugs you close. He intertwines your fingers with his before pulling your hand to his mouth. You can feel the prickling tug of his stubble against the soft skin and the dampness of his lips. He kisses your digits carefully before tugging you in until you’re curled into his chest.

“Gorgeous girl, you changed my life the day I met you.” Your resulting huff is disbelieving.

“I’m serious!  When we met, I wouldn’t say that I was at a low in my life, not necessarily, but I did feel like something was missing. That missing piece, that was you. Baby Doll, I knew I was going to fall for you completely the first word you spoke. One day, one day soon, I’m going to take you home. To Texas. I want you to meet my mama, my brothers and sisters. They’re going to love you as much as I do.” 

Jake was going to say something more that night, but in truth, you’d been so blown away by him that all you’d been able to think of was making him feel your love. That’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to an indecent exposure charge, fucking Jake in the bed of his truck and waking up in the early morning light completely naked in his arms.

It’s silent in the house as you walk in, not bothering to turn on any lights. As you fall into bed just wearing one of Jake’s old tees and a pair of panties, you make a fervent promise to yourself and anyone who’s listening. You’re going to see Jake’s smile again, hear his voice again. When you do, you’re going to let him take you home, because you love him, and he needs to know how much you do.

The next three weeks you spend in Jake’s hospital room. The doctors and nurses in the post-anaesthesia care unit get to know you intimately. It helps that for much of the day while you’re there, you’re mostly quiet, typing away on your laptop while attending the occasional meeting, allowing the doctors to do their thing unimpeded. Jake’s condition doesn’t change. The doctors check on him every day, monitoring his brain waves and ensuring that none of the surgical sites are becoming infected. But no matter what they do, he stays lost in a dream world that nobody can pull him from.

The doctors ensure you over and over again that he’ll wake up when he’s ready. You can see the immense amount of sympathy in their eyes each day when they can’t offer you anything but empty platitudes. Three days after Jake’s admittance to the hospital you finally break down and call his mom. It hadn’t felt right, keeping such big, potentially life-altering news from her.

Georgia Marie Seresin is just as Jake had described her. She’d descended on San Diego with all of the force of a Category 5 hurricane not even a day after you’d called her. If you’d had the presence of mind to notice the resemblance you’d have giggled at how much Jake reminds you of her. You’re not sure what you’d expected when you’d called her but it definitely had not been to face the brunt of her mothering. She’d hugged you tight and thanked you for taking care of her son for so long by yourself. 

“It’s alright now, sweet thing. Mama Georgie’s here.” She’d held you tight as the tears had welled in your eyes. “We’re going to take care of our boy. Now that I’m here, we’re going to get you taken care of as well.”

Her first order of business had been to take you home, leaving Jake’s eldest brother Will to sit in the room with him while she got you into a shower and some home-cooked food to eat. She brings your house to life in minutes. You haven’t been all too terrible in taking care of yourself. In fact whenever you’d felt yourself slipping, you’d been hearing Jake’s voice chiding you into doing better. You’d give anything to hear it again in person, perhaps with the addition of a six foot tall aviator draping himself over your back while muscling you out of the kitchen with a kiss or two or five.

Thankfully, Mama Georgie, as she’s insisted you call her despite your protests, pretends not to notice how you fall apart in your bedroom every night. Or how your eyes go all misty and faraway whenever you catch Will’s silhouette out of the corner of your eyes. It’s a relief having them here. They give you hope that Jake’s going to wake up. Maybe you did it backwards, meeting his mom and brother before you were ready, and definitely before he was. But if there is anybody who deserves to be surrounded with the people he loves when he’s hurting, it’s Jake. Having Mama Georgie and Will in San Diego helps, especially when work upticks and all of a sudden you’re spending more time trapped in your home office working on what feels like everything under the sun when you’d rather be with Jake. 

You’re at the end of your rope the day Jake wakes up. You’d been on calls working since about 3 AM. You’d been so frazzled that you hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to Mama Georgie and Will when they left at about 10 in the morning. When you get the call at 4 in the afternoon, you nearly don’t pick up. But you’re so thankful you do, because even as Mama Georgie tells you Jake is awake, you can hear Jake in the background. His voice is hoarse and barely there, but you can recognize it from a mile away.

It takes you an inhuman amount of control to finish the last hour of work you have and run to the hospital. You’re white-knuckling the steering wheel of your car, forcing yourself not to speed the entire way there. You park the car in what is the sloppiest parking job you’ve done since you were first learning to drive and run into the hospital. You can’t prevent the way your body sags against the door frame when you see Jake propped up in the hospital bed. He’s pale and covered in bandages, but he’s the best sight you’ve seen in months. Mama Georgie’s fluttering around him, fluffing up his pillows and making sure he’s comfortable. 

It's Jake who notices you first, smiling that gorgeous grin you missed so much at you. 

"Hey, my gorgeous girl! Four months and the first time you see me and I don't even get a kiss and a hug?" His voice is teasing even as you can hear the hoarseness from where he'd been intubated not long ago.

You don't even register Mama Georgie or Will walking past, you're that fixated on Jake. His eyes haven't left your face once, not even when you're sitting in the chair by his bed. You're inexplicably afraid to touch Jake right now. Over the past weeks you've had many nightmares, most of which ended with Jake disappearing at your touch. As with most things in your relationship, Jake takes the lead by carefully dragging his knuckles across your cheek. At the first tender touch, your eyes well and you can't help your sobs as you take his hand. His eyes widen as tears spill in hot trails down your cheeks.

"Aww, hey Gorgeous. I'm alright. I'm going to be okay." His words just make you sob harder. He brushes your tears away before tugging you up, despite your protests, to perch on the side of his hospital bed.

"What're you doing, Jay?" Your voice is stuffy and confused as you look down into his face. From your new vantage point you can see the exhaustion weighing on him as well as the stiff way he's moving as he looks at you.

"Give me your hand?" You place your hand in his and relish in the heat of his skin as he splays your fingers over his heart. You can feel his warmth even through the hospital gown. "D'you feel that gorgeous? That's my heart, beating for you. I'm still here. I hurt like I got run over by a herd of the cattle we have at the ranch, but I'm here. I'm going to heal up and be as good as new in no time at all, okay?"

His voice goes soft and gentle as he cups your cheek. "So no more crying, baby doll. Now why don't you get over here and give me a kiss, hmm? I've been on a ship in the middle of nowhere with only dreams of you for company for months. You're not going to let a sailor live in these conditions while eating hospital food, now are ya?"

Your resulting giggle is strangled as you carefully press your lips to his. You can’t help kissing him over and over again. You keep the kisses feather-light before drawing back and resting your forehead gently against his. Your voice is a whisper as you murmur, "I love you, Jake. So much. Don't you ever, ever do this again, Jake. Finding out you'd been hurt was the worst day of my life."

"I know, baby doll. I'm sorry. I didn't intend on getting hurt. Forget getting hurt so badly. Can you ever forgive me?" His words make you gasp and shake your head. As if he were to blame. 

It's as you settle back into the chair by his bedside that you respond with one word. "Always."

His smile is tired and soft as he murmurs back, "I love you." You sit in that chair watching as his face smooths, the lines fading as he drifts off to sleep. You press another kiss against his lips and settle in to watch over him. Jake's safe and home. There’ll be rough times ahead as he heals, but you can rest now.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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[imaginedreamwrite]

Asylum or post-asylum Steve & Reader celebrating his birthday with small gifts

Nurse reader has some meaningful gifts she’s been saving for post asylum Steve. They include his compass, and medals from the army which meant so much to him. She had seen the doctors playing with them back at the hospital, making fun of him, and stole them back for him. She’s even put her picture in the compass for him so he’ll always have her with him.

He had been grateful for the distracted patients and doctors, the nurses and wardens who had been eager to celebrate the Fourth of July outside in the gardens. He had been grateful for the fireworks and the music, the food that had kept them all at bay.

It was a reminder of things he didn’t have anymore, the luxuries that weren’t awarded to him behind these walls. Every strike of a firework was another chip on his shoulder aimed toward the people that threw him in here. He was no longer Captain America, a hero of the Second World War, he was labeled a crazed inmate with a number to keep track of him.

Every Fourth of July now was not a celebration of his birth nor was it a day that represented freedoms the founding fathers had sought out to grab for their own. He was reminded of Bucky dying, of being thrown in here because he was grieving and no longer useful for them.

But tonight he was welcoming the distraction. Tonight he had slipped back into the asylum, back to one of the common rooms to find you.

“Sweetheart, you waited.” He knew you would, and still he was surprised.

He crossed the common area to stand in front of you, his hands reaching for your hips to steady himself and pull you closer. He leaned in and tilted his head, his lips forming a soft winded smile that was a reflection of his happiness with you.

His only sole source of happiness and joy.

“Happy birthday, Steve.” You stood in your tippy toes to hug him, balancing his gift in one hand while resting the other on his shoulder.

He turned into you, nose grazing the soft curls of your hair and he slowly inhaled to fill his lungs with your perfume. It was soft and subtle, airy and not as contrived as some of the other nurses. It reminded him of flowers after it rained, and the few hours of sunshine he had gotten in the summer.

“Beautiful,” he cupped your chin and made you look at him, his lips curled up into a half-grin, “you got me a gift?”

“Its your birthday, of course I got you a gift!” You sank down to flat feet and stepped back, bringing the box between you both. “I didn’t know what else to get you-”

Steve cupped your hand and led you to one of the couches, sitting down first before he tugged you into his lap. With the staff and patients outside enjoying the fireworks, you and Steve had time alone. There was dulled urgency that lingered at the back of his mind but nothing remotely impertinent enough to stop this.

“You’re an angel of mercy.” He whispered in your ear, fingertips toying with the buttons of your shirt while he other gave the ribbons a quick tug. “You’re my darling.”

After the ribbon had fallen flat, Steve had lift the top of the box and set it beside him. He kept you perched on his lap while he reached into the box to grab the first of many small gifts, fingers grabbing hold of a chain.

“One of the doctors had it in his desk, I saw it when I went to have some orders signed. I thought…” you squirmed in his lap during his silence, driving the tension between you to a new level.

“My compass, doll…” Steve had tightened his hold on you, embracing you while you perched in his lap and on his growing erection.

“I hope you don’t mind…” You trailed off again, grabbing the compass from him to open it, a new picture tucked away inside.

“I would’ve put your picture there anyway.” Steve’s voice was constrained, afflicted by emotion that caught in his chest and throat. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

The embrace turned to a deeply passionate kiss, with his hand cupping your chin and your body positioned to straddle his. His hands snaked down to your skirt, all caution be damned, and then further beneath your uniform.

“We’ll be caught,” you sat back with wide eyes and parted lips, concerned for him and his well-being, “we can’t.”

Steve’s lips danced across yours. He had kissed you with as much passion as he could allow himself in the moment. And with a feel of your hips and the garter belt you wore, Steve groaned into the kiss before reluctantly pulling away.

“One day,” he drew your hair behind your ear, “one day we get to experience this.”

You hid your face in his neck and nodded, gently rubbing your hands over his chest and down again. Slowly singing him happy birthday to the tune of fireworks going off outside.

[arcsimper5]

Actions and Consequences - Chapter 1 Resolute

Delta Squad are forced to seek help from within the fleet for their injured Jedi, Jerra. Mixing with the GAR general is... an issue.

Pairing: OC!Jedi Jerra x Delta Squad Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, some blood, language. Rating: M (Explicit content in later chapters, minors DNI)

Kix huffed as the hangar medical alert rang out into the med bay, the low buzz of it echoing through his skull.

It had been a long day already, the Resolute in orbit above Pravada 9, a large group assault on droid production bases having been ordered by the GAR while data was gathered by a specialist assault team.

Looking at the chrono, he frowned in confusion; the last of the teams from the 501st and 212th had returned hours ago, with no reports of lost ships or units. Everyone deployed from the ship had been accounted for.

So why, then, was the medical alert sounding if all troops had returned?

Grumbling in annoyance at the inevitable extension of his shift, he grabbed his medkit and made the short journey to the hangar, looking around for his new patients.

There were a few groups of troopers milling around, but none that seemed to need attention. One lot of four were playing sabacc on some nearby crates while another small gathering of softshells were working on a gunship which had taken quite a bit of damage in the incursion.

None of them seemed to need his attention, his annoyance growing further.

“Anyone call for a medic?” he asked loudly, several heads snapping in his direction.

A murmuring response of ‘no’ and ‘not me’ came from the troopers, Kix letting out a growl of annoyance.

“Then who the kark is wasting my time by calling me down here?” he snapped, some of the sabacc troopers exchanging concerned looks.

He was about to head back to medbay and file a false alarm report when a gravelly voice called across the hangar, a large, imposing clone in distinctive armour appearing from the end of a gunship, a large sniper rifle in his hands.

“I am,” the trooper called, the entire hangar silent now, watching the interaction.

Kix raised an eyebrow, looking the trooper up and down. He could tell by his bucket, which was still firmly in place, that he was a Commando. His bulk on its own was intimidating, but the paint job on his armour completed the picture, the white plastoid flashed with red on his legs, arms and midsection, what appeared to be a bloody handprint covering the area around his visor, giving the impression of it being fresh and dripping.

“You’re not 501st or 212nd,” Kix huffed, the sniper letting out an amused huff.

“What gave it away? You a medic or not?”

Kix stared at the Commando for a moment, caught between actions.

“You’re not on my treatment compliment,” he stated firmly, the sniper staring back. Even under his visor, Kix could practically feel the coldness of the look.

“But you are a medic,” he growled in return, “and we need you.”

“For what?” Kix questioned automatically, the larger clone almost certainly rolling his eyes.

“A fifth for sabacc. What do you think, di’kut?”

Kix was about to offer a sharp retort when another Commando appeared behind the sniper, his posture communicating his impatience.

“Sev! What the kriff is taking so long?”

It only took the other man a moment to register Kix’s presence, his size matching this so-called ‘Sev’, though his bucket was off, exposing a frustrated expression.

Even though he looked like a clone and his hair was slightly longer than regulation, the Commando armour he wore, mostly green with a white flashed chestpiece, he gave off the air of someone much more superior.

“You, medic! We’ve been waiting on you! Get your shebs back to the ship!”

Kix frowned, his frustration growing.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” he huffed, “but I’m assigned to the 501st. You can’t just turn up on a republic fleet ship, call a medic and demand medical attention without registering first.”

“Oh, look, the little shiny doctor doesn’t know who we are,” Sev chuckled lowly, the other Commando rolling his eyes and glaring at him.

“Can it, Sev. This is about Jerra, not you.”

“Look,” Kix sighed, shaking his head, “let me call the on-call medic. I’m sure they can…”

“No time!” the unidentified Commando cut him off, shaking his head, “Our Jedi is injured. Now are you gonna do your job or not?”

As Sev chuckled, Kix felt the urge to decline simply on principle, but hearing there was an injured Jedi piqued his interest, not to mention his innate need to help was kicking in. Whether it was in his genes or in his heart, he couldn’t fight it, relenting with a long suffering sigh as he trudged towards the commandos.

“Ugh, fine! Just… register after, okay? I need to record all treatment.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” the Commando nodded, waving behind him in a gesture for Kix to follow.

“What Battalion are you even from?” Kix asked as they weaved through the gunships, most in various states of battle damaged, towards the rear of the hangar.

“Battalion?” Sev rumbled, his tone amused, “That’s cute.”

“We’re Delta Squad,” the other clone responded tightly. “I’m Fixer, this is Sev. Boss and Scorch are still on the shuttle with Jerra, our Commander.”

“Delta Squad?” 

Kix froze in place for a second, Sev almost walking into him, barely dodging his stock still form. 

“The Delta Squad? The ones who ran the demo job on Geonosis during the first battle of the Clone Wars?”

“History lesson later,” Fixer urged him, reaching back and grabbing his arm, the medic stumbling a little as he was pulled along, “first, medic stuff.”

“But… You guys are… You’re a myth! You’re not… You’re not supposed to exist!”

“And yet, here we are,” Sev chuckled, a hiss sounding as he reached up with one hand, unclipping his bucket and pulling it off.

Kix took in his features, surprised. Again, although he looked the same as the rest of his brothers, Sev had a certain… severity to him, as obvious as it would seem.

Two large scars ran across his face, one down from the top of his hairline to just below his cheekbone over his right eye, the other across the same eye, from the bridge of his nose to the curve of his face. It looked oddly like a crosshair.

His hair was thick, tight curls cut short, shoots of grey showing through. Light amber eyes stared back at Kix, a wicked smirk tilting at chapped lips.

“Got an issue?” he grinned, Kix immediately shaking his head.

“N-No… Kriff… Rex is not gonna believe this…”

Turning to Sev, he hesitated for a moment. “Is it true the four of you took back an entire republic cruiser from trandoshan pirates on your own?” 

Sev smirked, raising an eyebrow at the medic. 

“Is that what they tell you?” he teased, the low tone of his voice sending an uncomfortable shiver down Kix's spine. 

“Like I said,” the other commando huffed from in front of them, “history lesson later. And to be fair, it was mostly Boss.” 

Within moments, they were free of the field of battleworn gunships, the path to a beat up looking attack shuttle appearing. Another Commando was waiting outside, this one with a white chest piece, grey and gold covering his arms and legs.

“Took ya long enough!” he yelled as they approached, his voice somehow softer than the average clone’s, “What were ya doing? Teaching him how to practice medicine?”

“Can it, Scorch,” Fixer snapped, releasing Kix’s arm as they approached the ramp, Scorch’s face scrunched in an unimpressed expression.

His hair was much longer than the others, thick curls pulled back into a loose braid at the back, a few ringlets falling around his face. He leant against the ship with his arms folded over his chest, eyes scanning Kix suspiciously.

“How’s she doing?” Sev quizzed Scorch, the expression on the slightly smaller clone’s face faltering a little.

“In pain,” he replied quickly, looking pointedly to Kix, “Boss is with her. He’s been pushing bacta, but you know how she is with supplies.”

“You,” Sev grunted at Kix before nodding to the door, sharp eyes locked on him, “inside.”

“Going, going!” Kix assured him, drawing in an attempt at a steadying breath as he pushed through the doorway of the ship, the insides dimly lit.

It was a modest set up in the shuttle, a bunk room off to one side, labelled as such on the door. A small refresher was marked at the back, top and rear gunner mount positions visible from the main gangway.

Looking down towards the rear, Kix soon found his target, watching curiously as he crept closer.

The Jedi, Jerra, was sat on one of the navigation seats, her left hand supporting a limp right arm, face twisted with pain as she let out a hiss.

She was human, at least she appeared to be, warm skin over tight features. Her eyes seemed to dance with a green light in the darkness, focused on the Commando in front of her, the clone kneeling as he looked over her knees, one of which was exposed and covered with a bacta patch.

Her long dark hair was pulled back into multiple braids that trailed down her back, pulled together with a gold band. The clone in front of her was helmetless, hair short and mussed, curls spilling onto his skin haphazardly as he rested on one knee, hands gentle as he rubbed bacta in a nasty looking cut on her leg.

Visibly, it seemed to be her only other urgent injury, save the small cuts that littered her face. They looked like shrapnel wounds, ones that Kix was, unfortunately, all too familiar with.

“Not long now, mesh’la,” he grumbled lowly, his accent thick and low, a warmth to it that made Kix raise an eyebrow, “we’ll get some meds into you.”

“I can wait,” Jerra replied with a forced smile, adoration clear on her face as she looked the commando over, letting out a huff of laughter, “you shouldn’t be wasting bacta on me, Boss, I told you…”

“Hush,” Boss ordered, his voice stern, though his smile betrayed his tone, “bacta can be replaced. You can’t.”

A moment stretched between them, intimate and deep, simply sharing a connection, and for a second, Kix felt like he was intruding on something private.

“Uh… Sorry to interrupt,” he managed, his voice cracking a little as Jerra’s intense gaze turned to meet him, Boss’s smile fading entirely as he stood back up to full height, “I’m Kix, the medic from the 501st.”

“About time you got here,” Boss grunted, stepping back to allow Kix access to Jerra, “does ‘rapid medical response’ mean something different in the fleet?”

“Boss,” Jerra chastised the Commando gently, Kix trying his best to keep his expression set as he approached, the large clone’s white and red armour adding to his intimidating presence, “leave him be. It’s not like we were announced.”

“Still,” Boss huffed, his eyes softening a little as Kix placed his back at Jerra’s feet, offering a weak smile.

“Sorry about them,” Jerra grinned softly, “they can be a little demanding. I hope they weren’t rude to you.”

“No more than any of my other vode,” Kix smiled back, earning a huff from Boss. “Now… the others mentioned you being in pain?”

His eyes travelled over her, noting the bacta patch on her leg and the way she still held her arm.

“Do you mind telling me what happened?”

“Big ass explosion!” a shout came from the doorway, Scorch leaning around it, watching intently, “Got caught in the shockwave. Uh… sorry, again, about that.”

“Out!” Boss yelled, stamping towards the ramp, his face set. Jerra simply rolled her eyes and let out a breath of laughter, focusing back on Kix.

“We were infiltrating one of the maintenance facilities while the battle distracted the main forces,” she explained as Kix reached up, flattening his palm for her to lower her arm onto it, “our objective was to take it out and get intel on the newer battle droids they’re pushing out. Things got a bit heated, more security than intel thought there’d be, and I got pushed off a walkway by one of the breach blasts. Boss caught me before I fell all the way down, but it jarred my arm some.”

Kix hummed as he listened, eyes now intently fixed on her arm as he rolled the fabric covering it up as gently as he could. Her robes were a dark brown, the tunic underneath faded greens and greys, all tattered and smelling distinctly of explosive residue.

“Lucky escape,” Kix smiled, Jerra wincing as he tried to straighten her arm, hissing in pain. In his peripheral, he saw Boss turn sharply at the noise, trying his best to focus. 

The skin around the joint was purple and black, bruised badly. The swelling was quite severe, but there seemed to be no obvious deformation.

“I can’t tell from just looking, but there’s some bruising and irritation around the joint. Did you hear a pop or crack when you were caught?”

Jerra hesitated for a moment, looking towards Boss, her expression caught.

“I need you to be honest,” Kix explained softly, “or we might miss something that could cause complications in the future. We can heal whatever it is, I promise.”

With a long exhale, Jerra closed her eyes and nodded, something close to shame echoing across her features.

“It dislocated when Boss caught me,” she murmured, gaze averted to her feet, “and I popped it back in. Hurt like a jawa-kriffer, but it let me keep going.”

“Mesh’la…”

Boss’s call cut through the silence, the pain in his tone apparent.

“You should have told me… I’m…”

“Don’t,” Jerra frowned back at him, watching cautiously as he approached, “you did what you had to. I’m alive, we’re all here, that’s what matters. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d worry.”

“Damn right I’d worry,” Boss glared back at her, “It’s my job to look out for you all!”

“And you did!”

“But you got hurt…”

“Instead of falling to my death!”

Boss considered her words for a moment, hovering over her as Kix looked between them, the tension growing.

“Well, uh, there might be some small fractures in the elbow joint,” he explained quickly, hoping to diffuse the situation, “but I’d need to do a scan to be sure. It might also be good to look at the rest of your joints too, mainly your shoulder. A force like that can dislodge things or pull other muscles. It’s nothing that a bacta wrap won’t fix overnight, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“No,” Boss growled, Kix’s gaze darting to Jerra as she rolled her eyes, letting out a huff, “we have orders to be back en-route by oh-four-hundred. We’re only here for medical attention, resupply and refuel.”

“And you’re getting medical attention,” Kix replied sternly, releasing Jerra’s arm back to her as gently as he could, gathering his pack and standing, “and I’m telling you she needs more treatment.”

“We’re not leaving without her.”

“Then you’re not leaving at all,” Kix frowned, gesturing at Jerra. “If you want to deny her treatment and possibly aggravate what is currently a minor injury, be my guest. But if it is broken, bone fragments could shift and damage both muscle and tissue, not to mention the pain will only build. She needs rest and recuperation, and as a medic, I am able to pull individuals from active service for that.”

“Need a hand, Boss?”

Sev’s deep voice echoed through the ship, two other faces also peering in, their expressions stern.

It was clear that they were willing to step in if there was an argument, Jerra huffing in frustration as Kix stood his ground, shouldering his bag.

The Commando and the Medic stared each other down for a long moment, Boss’s eyes searching Kix’s face.

After what felt like an eternity, Boss let out a frustrated huff and stepped back, allowing Kix to pass.

“One rotation. No longer,” he growled, looking back to Jerra, “and one of us is always with her.”

“Boss,” she protested, quickly cutting off her own reply as he glared back at her.

“That’s an order.”

“I outrank you,” she shot back, hissing again as she stood up, following Kix as he made his way through the ship, though she made no further argument.

Boss looked her up and down, putting out a hand against the durasteel wall on the other side of the galley, blocking her path while the medic disembarked, his intense gaze finding hers once more.

“Boss,” she breathed again, swallowing hard when his free hand moved to her face, tracing his knuckles down the side of her face, “I’ll be fine.”

“You should have told me,” he grumbled after a moment, the guilt in his eyes making her chest constrict. “I hurt you.”

“You saved my life,” she reminded him, stepping into his space, tucking her head under his chin.

Taking another deep breath, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tenderly, taking the upmost care not to put pressure on her arm. “Better broken than a pile of goop on the floor of a maintenance facility.”

Boss let out a soft chuckle, his expression softening once more. Pulling away slightly, he looked down at Jerra, a sigh escaping his lips.

“I’ll make it up to you, cabur,” he promised, voice little more than a whisper, “we all will.”

“I’m holding you to that,” she teased gently, shivering at the sensation of his breath ghosting over her cheeks, “it’s been too long, Boss.”

“I know, cyare,” he smiled, leaning down to brush his lips over hers, drawing a whimper from deep in her throat, “but what was it you taught us about patience?”

“Gar chayaikir,” she moaned softly, growling as he pulled away, “you’re going to pay for this.”

“Hey, riddurok’la, your medic is getting twitchy!” Scorch shouted from the doorway, leaning in with a sly grin on his face, looking over the scene with amusement. “Gar me'dinuir, vod?”

“Mir’sheb,” Boss growled in response, moving towards the door, Jerra following with a blush on her cheeks. “Come on then, my lady,” he teased bowing as he reached the door, “your medic awaits.”

*-*-* Translations: Di’kut - idiot Shebs - Ass/Butt Mesh’la - Beautiful Cabur - Protector/Guardian Cyare - Beloved/One who is beloved Gar chayaikir - You tease Gar me'dinuir, vod? - You share, brother? Riddurok’la - Married Couple (rough translation) Mir’sheb - Smartass

[firewolf-pyro]

12. GROUNDED

Up in the public section of the facility, Blueton stares out into the snow from the ship Bay Area of the facility. The sound of people walking and talking around them but doesn’t break their focus as he stares out into an absolute blizzard howling out just outside of the open doors of the ship bay. Someone walks past Blueton’s front pulling along a string of flashy Christmas lights but does not stop to talk to the Dalek. Soon Olesia walks up behind Blueton to rest her hand on his shoulder, she begins to tie a blue and white scarf around the Dalek’s neck sections. Still, its focus is not broken.

“The scans show that this storm isn’t going to let up for a while. At least a few more days. We’re stuck here until then.” Olesia humms as she secures the scarf into place. After making it look nice and tidy around him she returns to leaning against the casing. The warmth from the other helped her focus- though she wasn’t sure what her Dalek was focusing on so intently off in the snowy wilderness ahead of them.

“We will be stuck here with Storm…” Blue grumbles as they continue to watch the snow storm outside. The lights are soon pulled up from the floor to be hung along the entryways’s top. The flashing colorful lights finally break the Dalek’s stare from the blizzard, their eyestalk instead lifting to examine the lights that were now hanging just overhead.

“Stuck with Storm because of a storm. Ahah.” She chuckles idly to herself as she pats the dome of the Dalek. She seems idly content to watch the snow fall with the Dalek beside her. Any moment of peace she could get Olesia felt the need to cling to.

“It would not be so bad if I were not the only Dalek here.” Blue admits suddenly after a few moments of silence. His eyestalk droops a bit towards the ground as they think over what they had just said. The idea of missing something he had spent so long to destroy made him feel a bit disturbed.

“You are, sure- but that doesn’t mean you are alone.”

Olesia encourages him, running a hand over her own hair to smooth some of the pieces down. She wasn’t sure just why the Dalek constantly felt so alone- she wasn’t sure just how to show them that they weren’t.

“Here, or in the universe? I know you must know- I do not know what you are but I know you must know- am I alone?” He turns his eyestalk to stare up at her. She uses her arm to block it from smacking her in the face as he looks up so quickly.

“Blue, I really don’t know. And besides- I saw what you were trying to make in your ship. So, even if you are the only one- which I seriously doubt, you are neither alone, nor would remain the last for very long.” She encourages, stepping a bit to the side to ensure Blueton was looking at her. Maybe a bit of encouragement would help him along this path.

“I am so used to being around thousands, billions of others. Being here with nothing going on in the pathweb- it feels empty. If there are others- they are far too far away to be heard.” They explain, getting a soft pat from Olesia again. The silence was maddening. Blue was impatiently waiting for the younger Daleks to be conscious enough to fill that void the pathweb had become.

“Come on- I think you should be glad you can’t hear the others if there are others. They would certainly see to it you’d be … Killed.” She gives him a grim look before waving for him to follow her. They could not dwell on that topic lest it break her moment of peace. The dread already seeping into her from the Dalek was enough of an encouragement to step away from that topic already.

“Come on, let’s go back inside. They’re setting up cute holiday decorations that you might find interesting.” She grins trying to distract the Dalek from their thoughts. Distractions- that’s what everyone needed. Especially since she knew she couldn’t put her plans fully into play until they got off of this planet and away from the Doctor.

Blueton looks away from Olesia back towards their ship. The front panel has been replaced fully making the ship look nearly brand new. They hadn’t wanted to leave the ship bay for awhile now- their youngsters being this close to other species didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t feel they were safe with them.

“The sooner we can leave to the planet I intended to leave to, the better. It would allow for more stable growth. There would be less interruption from outside sources.” Blueton grumbles, outside influence would affect the young Daleks quite a bit at such a vulnerable age. Blue was nurturing sure but the wrong person would sway the little developing minds in ways that would be unpredictable.

“Shush now, you shouldn’t be mourning your losses when your species have caused so many others to lose their entire species titles.” She knocks on his dome a bit to get his attention back on her.

“Your species is widely regarded as space Nazzis. Do you even believe in those old mentalities? Where Daleks are so supreme and mighty over any and all other life forms?” Olesia asks, crossing her arms over her chest. She honestly wasn’t expecting the Dalek to respond. With how beaten down they had been acting - especially with the Doctor around- she was at minimum expecting them to respond with a soft ‘no.’

“THE DALEKS REIGN SUPREME!” BT122 shouts lifting his eyestalk and waggling his manipulator arm around in a show of determination and confidence. Their shout was loud yet something behind it wasn’t believable. It was as if they were shouting it to force themself to believe what they were shouting.

“Yeah- you say that but- do you actually believe it yourself? After everything you’ve seen and experienced?” She cocks a brow at him letting a hand rest on her hip as she stares at him in a disbelieving way. She watches as they lower their eyestalk to look back at her. Both their manipulator arm and gunstick shift to a lower than neutral gesture. They looked absolutely downtrodden

“You’ve seen your species go damn near extinct on several occasions, not just from the Time war but from your own species, from the Mevolans and Mechanoids.” She points her finger at him as she makes this retort. All of the war, all of the bloodshed- because the Daleks believed themselves to be the superior species. And how would they prove it? By dying.

“No… No I do not…” Blue slowly looks up at Olesia with a cautious glance before looking back down to the ground. They were disgusted by their shout- having thought they had been well over that sort of mentality.

“Distrusting other species is one thing- to keep your own safe but- with how often we have started wars only to be nearly wiped out… The main directive is not at fault here, to keep your species alive- but the way in which we are attempting to achieve the prime directive is- at fault.” He admits and Olesia snorts out a laugh, leaning back against his casing. So he was self aware of this situation. That was a relief to her.

“Oh, so you do see what your species has done wrong.” She sighs as she steps away from him, still motioning for him to follow her. The casing turns towards her.

“I just want to see my species thrive.” He admits as he tails Olesia through the tunnel back into the main facility. The pair make their way shoulder to shoulder down the hall back into the main facility. The main above ground area is mostly empty with only a few people walking around with boxes of decorations. People are on ladders around the walls hanging up lights. They continue past them towards a lift entrance.

“What would you do differently? To prevent any of your own from dying?” Olesia questions Blueton as they walk. She pauses every few steps to mess with the scarf around the casing before continuing again- her mind beginning to feel fussy as she poked and prodded at the Daleks. This topic was something she needed to know more about as she still debated staying by their side.

“Firstly, destroying the current ruling party is a must. Corrupting their underlings and merging into their numbers- a quo of sorts.” He states plainly as he half leads half follows Olesia as she makes a b-line for the lift. His idea of reform needed a total invasion and demolishment of the current political structure the Daleks held onto. It would be difficult as the Daleks treated their politics more like a religion.

“And afterwards?” She asks him to think on more of what his people could do whilst not in a war with themselves or others. She holds her arm out to stop the lift’s doors from closing on them. Blue lets their eyestalk sink a bit and pauses just in front of the door for a long moment. They were considering the question. What would the Daleks do if not in a war? Make hats?

“Come on Blue, I didn’t mean to break you like that. That is a bit too far into the future for you isn't it.” She sniggers and waves him into the lift. The Dalek eventually lifts its eyestalk and moves into the space.

“I am no Time Strategist. There are no other strategists to reflect these plots and plans against. No commander to work out logistics of said plans.” He states as he turns around in the lift to be facing the door again. His gunstick spins in its socket as he considers all of this. The doors close in front of them both. They ignored the people who had their head turned towards them- the civilians here were very curious about those two- or the Dalek in particular. Olesia takes a moment once the doors are closed to once again lean on the casing. They were headed down.

“Since when have you taken any advice from a commander? I thought you were anarchical?” She gives a soft snort. watching the lights tick down she rests her hand flat on the Dalek’s dome.

“What-“ They lift their eyestalk up and turn it to look at Olesia. She doesn’t pull away from the casing as he looks at her. Olesia found herself a bit confused by the reaction- wasn’t this Dalek an anarchist? Wasn’t that what it had labeled itself as?

“Oh- maybe your idea of anarchy and mine are completely different.” She stands up a bit straighter as the doors to the lift open. In front of them the Doctor stands with his long brown coat pulled tight around him. Rose is just there at his side. The Doctor stands with his hands on his hips glaring idly at the door as it opens. He catches Olesia leaning on the casing as Blueton looks up into her eyes. Rose too, watches the last bit of quietness between the two end as the door squeaks open.

“HAH!- so there IS something up between the two of you. Are you sure the human factor hadn’t been introduced to your genetics, Blue tin can?” The Doctor lets out a short loud laugh as he goes in on the Dalek. The eyestalk instantly turns to stare at him- shocked at the implications the Doctor had just made.

“Oh don’t you start! Can’t you see he’s already in a poor mood.” Olesia steps out into the hall leading Blueton out of the lift. The Dalek follows close behind her, keeping an eyestalk on the Doctor. Implying that they were seeing each other?! He was disgusted by the idea.

“I just cannot believe that a pure Dalek would not be killing everyone on sight here. Or working towards doing just that! Someone or something has to have altered you.” He insists, stepping closer to invade the Dalek’s personal space. It quickly moves behind Olesia using her as a meat shield. They were expecting the man to try to pull open his casing to try and remove his mutant self from the core.

“Enough! Why are you always trying to push and shove them into a roll they are clearly trying to avoid? They are trying to make a change, why aren’t you?” Olesia spits back, stepping forwards to meet the Doctor at his own game. She ignores Rose and Blueton both who were skirting around the sides of each of the two confrontational ones - leaving them both to meet in the hall as they move to a more clear part of the hallway. Both Rose and Blue wanted to avoid the argument that was likely to occur here.

“Do not become violent-“ Blue shouts trying to break the pair up as he continues to back away. Rose stands just in front of him content with her distance away from the argueing pair. Blue believed the further away he was from the Doctor- the safer he would be.

“Shh Blue she has a point.” Rose holds her hand behind her to gesture for Blueton to stop moving. They stay just behind Rose as they watch the others argue.

“You’ve already scanned him on multiple occasions- you already know he’s pure. And what if he wasn’t? Why would that matter?” Olesia spits, poking her fingers into the Doctor's chest. She had an idea of why it would matter to Blue- but had no clue why it mattered so much to the Doctor.

“Because they never would! A true Dalek would rather kill itself than live a life as a hybrid. A SANE Dalek would-“ He retorts, holding both hands up and taking a step backwards away from the still approaching Olesia. She was intent on laying hands on him at that point- absolutely fed up with how he was acting. It may have been the hatred feeding into her from the Dalek acting up but she was really feeling a deep seated need to absolutely throw hands.

“I am not insane nor am I a disgusting hybrid.” Blue states plainly from behind Rose who glances over her shoulder to shush him. Blue shifts away from her harsh shushing for a moment realizing they may have just added to the horrid situation.

“Speciest as always, xenophobic! That is how they are that is how they all are! There is no changing that.” He turns away from Olesia to point past Rose towards the blue Dalek in an accusatory way.

“Blueton if you were left with no other choice would you hybridize with something to save yourself? Human Dalek? Or better, Time Lord Dalek?” Olesia laughs, stepping to the Doctor’s side. She was still trying to break line of sight between the Doctor and the Dalek.

“Negative?! Why would that ever be a scenario to come to your mind?!” Blueton sounds disgusted at the suggestion Olesia has made. They would rather die in any sort of situation like that- as if such a situation would ever occur. He had his technology to rely on, the nanotechnology running through his blood was far more than enough to keep him from dying. There would never be the need to hybridize.

“See?” The Doctor gestures past Rose again towards the Dalek as if it had just proven his point.

“You’ve made your point- stop harassing him!” Rose insists as she moves beside Olesia to perfectly block the other’s view of the Dalek. She could tell that this argument would get very out of hand if she didn’t step in. The last thing she wanted was for it to become violent.

“We cannot trust this thing! If it won’t kill us now it will certainly later!” He insists, trying to side step around the pair of them. The Dalek continues to move left to right to stay out of his view.

“I have no interest in harming any species beside my own, the ones who deserve it.” Blue shouts back swinging around the far side of Olesia to glare at the Doctor. Olesia dances around to stay right between the Doctor and the blue Dalek.

“Okay, we can’t keep going around in circles like this. Blueton, come with me please. Doctor- go with your Rose Tyler.” Olesia demands pointing her fingers from one person to the next. She backs away from the Doctor keeping herself in the line of fire of the Dalek’s gunstick as they continue to back away out of the hall. The door closes separating the hall away from the area the pair just left, finally ending the debate for the night.

“So… Do you admit you are not sane?” Olesia smiles slyly and carefully runs her palm down the side of the Dalek’s eyestalk. The being lifts it up and away from the touch. He had allowed himself again to get caught up in an argument that could have been ended quickly had he just exterminated the perpetrator. Yet- he had not.

“Enough of this! Enough of making me feel as if I am the other. I have had to deal with this enough from my own species. I do not need this from you.” BT122 shouts as they lift their manipulator arm and gunstick. Olesia pulls back her arm and eyes the weapons before taking a step closer to him. She was wary, sure - but she was hoping she could offer them some comfort and an apology for pushing this topic too far for too long.

“Why do you want to go back to them? Why do you need their approval so badly after… After what they’ve done to you?” She steps smoothly to his side then past him to lead him further away from the door. The Dalek is silent as it turns and continues to follow her back down the maze of halls. They had to think about just what to say to explain it to her, to explain it to himself.

“I… Crave the thrum from the hive. The sense of belonging.” They pause at the entrance of the hospital wing. The noise of other minds talking, conversing and sharing ideas, theories and plots- the lack of emptiness in every moment because there was always another mind to reflect an idea off of. They look over the door as Olesia pushes it open. Here, he was alone.

“And we don’t satisfy that craving?” She holds the sliding door open as Blueton passes her through the archway into the wide open space. Blueton’s eyestalk twitched and turns in a wide arch as he starts to hear a soft bit of music drone on through the room. It only added to his tension. He needed to locate the source and terminate it.

“It never could.” He admits and moves along beside Olesia as she begins walking towards the bed Henry was likely staying in. He could feel the music growing louder the closer they got which made him twitch and writhe further in his casing. The noise was agitating.

“That’s… Depressing .” She whispers as she walks over to the bed and pulls back the curtains. Henry was resting on his side looking up at an Ood who was sitting down on a folding chair beside the bed. It seems that the two of them were talking very quietly to each other.

“IDENTIFY YOURSELF!” The Dalek moves in closer with their gunstick raised as they stare into the closed off curtained off room. Olesia quickly presses her hand over the top of the gunstick causing Blueton to stop in his tracks. The sheer amount of noise they were hearing in their mind was driving them crazy.

“EXPLAIN?” He shouts over the sound of the music continuing to echo through the room around them. Henry rolls onto his back to look over the decorated blue Dalek. Neither Henry nor Olesia could hear the noise Blue was being driven mad by.

“Please be quiet, Blue.” Henry wines, running a hand over his forehead. The Ood held up their translation device to intervene.

“I am at mister Henry’s service.” The Ood explains as they replace the translation device back to its spot on their chest. This did not help the fact that their was still an alarmingly loud noise going off in the Dalek’s mind.

Blue “I DO NOT UNDERSTAND! THE MALE DOES NOT REQUIRE ANY SERVICES!” He snaps back though the Ood lifts their translator up again. They gesture it to Henry as they speak.

“He required my service. Emotional and physical support. Mister Henry was lonely.” They nod once more to Henry before placing their translator back. Henry gave a small smile up to the blue and silver eyestalk staring down at him. The song is slow and lonely. Needy- and Blueton could not help but hear it.

“BE SILENT!” Blueton pushes past Olesia who is fighting to prevent him from doing so. His goal? To permanently silence the Ood.

“HE DOES NOT REQUIRE ANY SUCH-“

“Blueton PLEASE!” Henry shouts and sits up straight to block the Dalek’s view of the Ood. He then slowly slumps back to staring up at the ceiling. Now Henry’s headache had only been added to via the one growing in the Dalek’s own mind.

“I just lost a close friend… I… Don’t think you understand how badly that can affect someone.” He grumbles and turns away from both Olesia and Blueton to look back at the Ood.

The blue Dalek and Olesia stand side by side, Olesia holding on tight to the gunstick of the Dalek’s as they look down at Henry who is relaxed on the bed staring up at the ceiling. The Ood still remains looking straight into the Dalek’s eyestalk across from the bed. Physically? There was finally silence. But over the mental web between them all? Still an unending strain of music that would not let the Dalek’s mind rest. Even through it all, though Henry’s statement broke them.

“I… Do…” Blue admits though the admission was quiet. Especially when compared to the song now mournful in nature echoing in their head. He knew what loss felt like. He understood.

[mariacallous]

Hale Zukas had a need for speed. In Berkeley, accompanied by his high-velocity wheelchair and trademark helmet, Zukas would zoom down Telegraph Avenue at a sprinter’s pace, his mop of grey hair fluttering in the wind.

Born with cerebral palsy, Zukas had places to be and things to say to policymakers about building a Bay Area that is accessible to all. Despite significant speech and mobility impairments, his righteous temper and sharp wit forced them to listen.

“I don’t beat around the bush,” Zukas mused in a 1998 oral history, where he sat for multiple lengthy interviews. He communicated using a wand affixed to his helmet that pointed to letters on a word board. “I know at least as much as anyone about what I’m talking about.”

Zukas died on Nov. 30 at the age of 79, but not before his civil rights activism for people with disabilities shaped the way millions navigate this country’s public spaces.

“People knew that when Hale was speaking, you listened,” said Judy Heumann, a leading disability rights advocate who worked with Zukas in the 1970s. “He really did have a bigger vision.”

From public transit to sidewalks, Zukas’s reach can be felt across the Bay Area.

He designed Berkeley’s first generation of wheelchair ramps in the 1970s as the city became an early model of mobility access. Known as “curb cuts,” these ramps turned local sidewalks from a gauntlet of miniature cliffs to usable pathways for wheelchair riders. His advocacy also pushed BART to become the nation’s first transit system to be fully accessible to people with disabilities.

Among the laundry list of accessibility improvements touched by Zukas are BART’s elevators, which placed their buttons at lower height based on his input.

Zukas’s activism is rooted in 1960s Berkeley. As protesters rallied against the Vietnam war and for free speech, a burgeoning contingent of quadriplegic students also harnessed the city’s unique counterculture environment. At the heart of the movement was the Center for Independent Living, which Zukas co-founded in 1972, under the philosophy that people with disabilities should speak for themselves on matters of advocacy and life choices. Berkeley’s CIL played a pivotal role in altering the urban landscape, shifting cultural assumptions, and would go on to sprout over 400 centers in the U.S.

At CIL, Zukas was arguably the organization’s foremost expert in the nitty-gritty of accessibility policy. He was also skilled at bending bureaucracy to his will.

Memories of Zukas as told by peers and fellow activists are often colored by his iconoclastic approach. Heumann affectionately jibed Zukas as an “old fart” due to his stubbornness and wry humor. Wheelchair designer Ralph Hotchkiss described him as a “wild man” thrilled by the rush of a speeding chair. And Kitty Cone, another prominent activist who died in 2015, praised him as an “unsung hero” whose immense impact was often overlooked due to his speech impairment.

Born in 1943 in Los Angeles, Zukas credited his mother for pushing for his education in the face of a medical establishment arguing he should be institutionalized. “She finally decided that she knew more than the doctors,” said Zukas, who went on to major in mathematics and study Russian at UC Berkeley.

Zukas remained in Berkeley after graduating in 1971. He was there in 1977 when activists staged a landmark sit-in at San Francisco’s federal building, setting the stage for the Americans With Disabilities Act. Under the appointment of President Jimmy Carter, Zukas also served as vice-chair of a federal board that crafted federal accessibility standards in the 1980s.

Underneath Zukas’s confident politicking lay deep-seated insecurities. His perennial frustrations over the revolving door of personal assistants upon whom he relied to feed and clothe him often boiled over in exasperation. “I see myself as a mass of contradictions,” he said in interviews stored at UC Berkeley’s Bancroft library. “On the one hand, I’m very activist in trying to influence various issues, sometimes being very assertive about it. On the other hand, I have very low self-esteem, and I don’t like to deal with employment issues at all. Probably because I don’t see myself getting a job.”

The limitations of his disability required him to painstakingly spell out words for people unfamiliar with his verbal queues. But he also saw advantages, describing his approach to advocacy as a form of “mental jujitsu.”

“I imagine when many people see me, they figure I am intellectually sub-par. So when I start talking (about) things that make it clear that I’m not, it makes all the more of an impact,” said Zukas. “And besides, I’m somewhat of a spectacle.”

Zukas embraced spectacle. Before the pandemic, he was a fixture at government meetings, crisscrossing the Bay Area to get where he needed to go.

But to many, the man zooming by in a wheelchair adorned with a “They hate us because we’re pretty” sticker was just another Berkeley eccentric. Even administrators at UC Berkeley, where Zukas frequented lectures, were unaware of his place in civil rights history. That’s according to Brad Bailey, who attended the university’s journalism school and filmed an award-winning 2017 documentary on Zukas.

“He had been overlooked not just in the disability movement, and Hale was very frustrated at that,” said Bailey. While fellow UC Berkeley graduate Ed Roberts emerged as the public face of disability rights, Zukas said he developed a resentment for the media’s anointed “father” of the movement.

“This may be somewhat heretical: For all his great gift of gab, I found him rather superficial,” Zukas said in 1998 of Roberts, who passed away three years earlier and captured the nation’s attention with his life in an iron lung. Although in the same conversation Zukas added that he may have “gone too far” in criticizing Roberts. “After all,” said Zukas. “My first trip to Death Valley was in his van.”

Hotchkiss, who won a MacArthur “Genius” Grant for his work designing wheelchairs, remembers the first time he met Zukas in the early 1970s. They were touring the Washington, D.C., subway together so Zukas could write a report on disability access for Congress.

“Before I knew it, I was hanging on to the back of his high-powered wheelchair racing through Washington and wondering if I’d make it there alive,” said Hotchkiss, who relied on a slower wheelchair. On that day Zukas got into the “dirt of the system” and “smashed through it as best he could.”

“If he could have lived 1,000 years, he would have taken the chance,” Hotchkiss said. “He would have kept on smashing his way.”

[isagrimorie]

🖍 and 🛠 for the wip ask game?

From this writer’s WIP ask game

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

So, I have…. six Captain Seven meets with Voyager crew in the Delta Quadrant WIPs and this is one of them…. longer than a sentence because I honestly don’t know when or if any of those stories will see the light of day.

——-

Seven was only a few feet ahead when there was an explosion and Seven was suddenly enveloped with light and smoke.

“Seven!”

There was a hacking cough and then: "Here!"

And out of the smoke stumbled Seven… or not Seven.

Seven entered and a different woman emerged except she wasn't random Janeway realized as the woman staggered out.

The ocular implant stood out, glinting in the low light, even with her hair covering her face.

The woman was Seven of Nine. Except she wasn’t their Seven.

Seven of Nine eyes widened. She looked puzzled, "Admiral, what are you doing here?" and then her knees buckled Janeway and Tuvok rushed forward and caught her halfway down.

“What is going on?”

Tuvok peered down at Seven, a changed, older Seven. Tuvok raised an eyebrow then looked back at Janeway. “Curious.”

Janeway spent no time ordering a transport directly to Sick bay, the Doctor took in the woman between them.

“Is that… Seven of Nine?” The Doctor asked in disbelief.

“You tell us,” Tuvok said.

Janeway grunted and said, “Preferably on a bio bed. We might not know who this is and not to be indelicate but she is definitely is as heavy as Seven is.”

Tritanium enhanced bone structure and implants on top of a deadweight was not an easy ask to carry, even with a Vulcan’s superior strength helping out.

The Doctor hurriedly helped lay the woman down on the bio bed.

The moment she was settled the Doctor proceeded to scan the woman.

Janeway stepped back and observed this woman. There were lines around her face, it gave Seven’s features so much character. She looked like she lived quite a life.

Janeway wasn’t used to seeing Seven’s hair out of her usual coiffed sytle. And the occipital implant looked well maintained but also its like her skin grew around her Borg implants, Janeway was reminded of a tree she once saw, someone had left a bicycle a century ago, and by the time she and Phoebe stumbled into the tree in the woods, the tree had absorbed the bicycleq, growing around it.

“Captain,” Tuvok said, calling Janeway’s attention. “I suggest we put a force field around this area.”

“You think she’s a danger?”

“I think it is prudent that we put a force field around a former Borg who looks like Seven but might not be Seven.”

“Do it,” Janeway ordered, when it comes to Borg, even with Seven, they learned the hard way that trusting also comes with a heavy abundance of verification. “With that said, Doctor, can you tell me who she is?”

"I don't know what to tell you, Captain, that is Seven of Nine, except judging from her physiology and Borg implants this woman is 20 years older." The Doctor made one last scan, “She has an abundance of Tachyon radiation and signs of smoke inhalation. Her nanoprobes still seemed to be intact with the way it’s working hard to fix some of her injuries.”

The Doctor moved away to a console and grabbed a hypospray. Janeway followed him, Tuvok already took a step back and established a force field.

"So this is Seven of Nine?" Janeway clarified. She was no stranger to anomalies playing havoc with her crew. A number of things could have happened, a lifetime lived in an eye blink is one of them.

"Yes, Captain, for all intents and purposes this is our Seven of Nine."

A sudden stabbing headache made itself known and Janeway started massaging her forehead with a deep sigh. “Time travel. I hate time travel.”

“Time travel seems to be the logical assumption,” Tuvok said.

“Is she fit enough to wake up?”

“Wait,” Tuvok said, “Doctor, if you will, kindly remove the phaser from Seven’s person.”

“Of course,” the Doctor said, striding through the force field.

"Not exactly your Seven of Nine." A voice spoke up.

Janeway turned and was surprised to see Seven sit up. It did seem like two decades has passed and she has aged gracefully. It was hard not to take note of the differences between the Seven she was accustomed to and this woman.

She wore her hair looser for one, and she no longer wore her dermal regeneration suit. Instead she wore ordinary clothes although the battered leather jacket told a story.

As well as the gun she had strapped on her thigh holster. Her eyes swept through sick bay in a practiced scan, before landing on Janeway.

And then, in a measured voice, said: "Captain Janeway.”

"You called me Admiral Janeway earlier."

"Did I?" Seven asked, her tone was gave nothing away.

"Hello, Seven of Nine." The Doctor greeted.

Seven turned her head and smiled, the Doctor beamed at Seven.

"Doctor, it is good to see you.”

The Doctor then started scanning her. "You seem to have an excess of chronoton energy."

Seven sighed. "Of course."

Janeway was intrigued by this expression of emotion, her eyes closed briefly before focusing on Janeway. "What is the date?"

Janeway didn’t envy Seven's this. She hated temporal mechanics.

But before that, Janeway did have a missing crewman."If you're here does this mean 'our' Seven of Nine is in your time?"

"Its the logical conclusion." Seven suddenly stood-up.

The Doctor loomed over Seven with a raised eyebrow. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

“Besides some dizziness, I’m fine. I don’t think I need to stay here.”

“And in the 20 years you seem to have lived, have you become a Doctor?”

Janeway was fascinated with how expressive this Seven was. She scowled at the Doctor.

“No.” She let out a breath and then said, “You can scan me, but I don’t think its a good idea I remain in sickbay.”

“It’s nice to see not everything’s changed, you’re still trying to escape medical check-ups.”

—-

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

Oh boy, when am I not struggling with a scene? It’s like when I finally have the scene I want or working towards something, I don’t know how to fill in the rest of the story. For example: I want Captain Seven to meet her old Voyager crew back in the Delta Quadrant and then interact with her younger self.

Awesome.

And then what???

Me to me: AND THEN WHAT????

Alas, there are often crickets.

[mugiwara-no-toshokan]

Thrice Prophesized

CisFem Reader x Roronoa Zoro

CW: In-Universe levels of violence, amnesia, romance, reader gets some good bad-ass moments, but shouldn't feel Overpowered if I did my job well, surprisingly no smut in this one loves, but it's book 1 of 2.

Still 18+

Chapter 2: Your Name Here.

You had been taken back to the sick bay and the little reindeer creature went through a thorough checkup while the demon-man waited just outside the door. You could feel his aura easily, and the only person on the ship who seemed a bigger threat was the farm boy. The blonde man in the suit seemed to be close to the demon-man in strength, and – honestly – there wasn’t what you would consider to be a single weak person on the whole ship.

“Sorry I screamed at you.” You say after it seems like the small doctor is almost done with his work.

“Oh… it’s okay, I understand why. You called me a forest spirit when you first arrived on the ship, but I guess when you ended up healing inside the ice you forgot.”

You tilt your head. “I… don’t remember any of that. I hope it wasn’t rude to call you a forest spirit.”

The small doctor smiles. “I didn’t think so, and you can call me Chopper.”

“Thank you for taking care of me, Dr. Chopper.” You say with a smile.

Chopper smiles and then gives you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“The memory will return, or it won’t. I will simply have to do my best in the meantime.” You look around. “Am I to stay in here?”

“Only for a little longer.” Chopper assures you. “I think Franky’s making a bed for you, and Brook and Robin are helping. Sanji’s making something to eat, and Nami and Usopp are putting together some information about the world, so you don’t get into trouble accidentally.”

“That is appreciated.”

“You’re speaking differently from what you were before.” Chopper points out, “Are you remembering something?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so. It just… feels like I should speak as politely as possible.”

“You don’t have to worry about something like that with this crew,” he assures you.

“Perhaps not.” You admit. “But… I also don’t know who I am. Was I proper? Was I strong? If this is my world, why does it feel completely unworldly to me? I can feel something slipping through my veins and through the air and it almost feels like what I know, but then it does not.” You look at your hands before balling them into fists. Taking a breath in you let it out slowly.

“Not knowing is stressful.”

Chopper reaches out to you, but the door opens and the girl with the orange hair, Nami, pokes her head in. “We’ve got some food ready so you can eat, then we can go over everything else, if you’re ready.”

“I… hm. I suppose I am as ready as I can be.” You admit, following her into the common area after knocking on the door to let the demon-man know you’re leaving.

“Why’d you knock on the door like that?” Chopper asks.

“Your demon-friend seems to be guarding you all from me, so it seemed polite.” You explain as you go into the kitchen. You hadn’t seen this part of the ship before, at least not for more than a moment as you made your way to the sick bay.

It was alive with the smell of food, and the majority of the crew. The blonde man in the suit seemed to be the cook, and if his food tasted half as good as it smelled then it was it quite the testament to his capacity as chef. You didn’t realize how painfully hungry you were until you moved to sit down and nearly toppled over.

“Are you okay?” The taller lady with the dark hair asks as you manage to sit down.

“Yeah… I, uh, don’t remember when I last ate.” You give her a soft smile and settle into the seat.

“Sanji always makes plenty of food,” the young man in suspenders and a fishing hat assures you. “And we’ll make sure Luffy doesn’t take anything off your plate.”

You blink a bit in confusion. “Lou-fee?”

“Oh! We forgot to introduce ourselves.” The skeleton with the fluffy laughs after he says this, and you’re maybe too hungry right now to be bothered by an animated skeleton in a suit. “I’m Brook, the musician of the crew.”

“Usopp,” the young man in suspenders says, “Brave warrior of the sea, and the sniper of the crew.”

“I heard Chopper introduce himself already,” the tall lady with dark hair says giving you a small wave. “I’m Robin, an archeologist.”

And so it went, with everyone in the crew introducing themselves and providing their job. You were surprised to learn the farm boy was the Captain of this crew, but there was something about him that drew you in, so you didn’t dwell on it. The demon-man was named Roronoa Zoro, and something about him pulled at you as well, but in a different way.

It seemed to irritate both of you.

“This vessel is quite large, are ten people enough for a crew?” You ask, taking a sip of the dish Sanji has set before you. It’s a beautiful amber broth since you can’t remember when last you ate  the cook and doctor both would rather you not overwhelm your stomach.

“Franky designed the ship to be efficient,” Usopp was explaining to you, as he was sitting nearest and the hubbub of everyone eating had drowned out your question.

The flavor surprises you, and you barely hear the reply to your question. There’s a warmth that spreads through to your bones and you didn’t realize how cold you had felt until the broth seeped into you.

“By the gods, this is delicious.” You admit, not even realizing you’re talking out loud.

“Sanji’s the best cook!” Luffy assures you excitedly. The young man may not be a farm boy, but he seems to have the appetite of several.

You turn to Usopp. “Everyone is on par with the cook in terms of their skills?”

“Huh? Er… I mean, yeah. We joke, but we are really a ship full of monsters. Nami’s navigational skills are so good people have tried to kidnap her. Chopper has ended some plagues with his skills, and Jinbei had us surfing a tsunami wave one time. Franky built a bridge in seconds, and Brook stole an important document from one of the Emperors. Luffy and Zoro are just beasts when it comes to fighting and Sanji’s right there with them.”

You drink the soup as Usopp regales you, and after a moment you speak. “You have not spoken of your own accolades, master sniper. I would not think it boastful to hear them.”

“Oh… I, uh, I just support the crew, y’know, that’s what a good sniper does.” He says sheepishly.

“Usopp took out marines that were surrounding me from such a distance with a slingshot that they couldn’t return fire with their firearms.” Robin says, her tone is even but there’s a proud smile on her face.

“He’s designed and improved my Clima-takt over the last couple years, and it’s saved my skin more than once.” Nami added between bites.

“He’s helped create jars and vials that keep my herbs and medicines fresher and viable for longer.” Chopper chimes in.

“He’s made some improvements to the soldier lock system I didn’t think of on my own,” Franky says. “He’s Suu-per smart thinking up improvements.”

You smile as Usopp’s face reddens. “That is monstrously effective support for a monstrous crew.” You state, finishing the last few spoonfuls of broth. “Master Chef, I would like to risk another bowl, if you have more soup to spare.”

“Anything for the lovely lady,” Sanji offers smoothly, replacing your empty bowl with a full one.

You felt your cheeks flush red and wondered idly if anyone had called you lovely prior to today. The pang of being unable to remember tried to sit in your heart, but you drank another spoonful of the delicious broth and felt better.

After everyone was done eating the table was cleared and Nami set a map out. It showed a world you were completely unfamiliar with. She pointed out where the ship currently was, and where they had found you. She explained the seas and currents, and some of the larger land masses.

“We’re slowly headed back to the Grandline Metro, we just have a few more places we want to investigate first,” she explains, tapping a large island that seemed to be primarily a single city. “We’re not going to force you to stay on board, but you’ll probably want to stick around until we get back to the Metro. Aside from the Redline it’s one of the most populated places in the world. It’s more likely someone will recognize you there than anywhere else.”

You make a face. “I… do not wish to be recognized.”

“Eh? Did you remember something?” Chopper asks.

You shake your head. “Not clearly, but I feel like I was pursued for… something.” You close your eyes and rub your temples trying to remember. “A man in a strange hairstyle with a bubble around his head called me a blasphemer. But… I … flew?”

You look down at Chopper. “I cannot fly, am I remembering poorly?”

“Maybe you’re a Devil fruit user.” Jinbei offers. “Can you swim, young lady?”

“… I’m afraid I don’t know.” You admit. “But I have skills in things and my body seems to remember. It’s how I took the demon- er - Zoro’s sword.” You consider things for a moment. “If I can swim, I imagine it would be the same. Is it possible to check now?”

“You mean chuck you off the side of the Sunny and see if you sink or swim?” Franky asks in mild disbelief.

“…Yes.”

“Wait, we can just fill the bath and see if you feel weak being in the water.” Usopp offers. “That will prove if you have a Devil fruit or not.”

“But… it won’t prove if I know how to swim.” You assert. “On a boat out in the ocean, it seems important to know if I can or cannot. I have eaten, rested, and I do not feel dizzy or weak. You have strong swimmers on your crew, I’m certain.” You’re already getting up and starting for the door when Zoro puts a hand on your shoulder while looking at Chopper.

“Oi.” He prompts the doctor.

“Eh? Oh. Um… her physical injuries are all healed, if she’s not feeling unwell then it shouldn’t be too dangerous.” Chopper admits, and Zoro lets your shoulder go, turning and walking out of the kitchen ahead of you.

Your brows knit in confusion before you follow after him. You understand him getting verification from the ship’s doctor, but you’re not certain why he would care. There’s been no order from his Captain to watch over you, and as such his focus should be protecting the crew from you.

“Am… I already a part of this crew?” You ask before leaving the kitchen. Luffy is near enough to hear you and perks up.

“Do you want to join?” He asks with a smile.

“… I don’t know.” You admit, looking over at him, and falling backward. You landed hard on your rear, but the young man’s body was still seated at the kitchen table, and only his head was near you. “Wh-What in the hells?!”

You watch in a mix of horror and amazement as Luffy’s head retracts back into his body.

Nami sighs pinching the bridge of her nose. “We haven’t had a chance to get into Devil Fruits and their effects on people. Luffy ate a fruit and has a rubber body. Chopper, Robin, and Brook also ate fruits and have abilities because of it.”

“A… a fruit… gave them magic?” You question, watching as Usopp and Franky pull on different parts of Luffy and show how stretchy he is.

“It’s not magic so much as it’s something that changes you permanently.” Robin explains, offering a small fan of arms to help you to your feet. “In exchange for the power of the fruit, we are cursed by the sea and cannot swim. In truth, we are fully helpless in water and can easily drown.”

“I… see.” You manage, reaching out and taking one of Robin’s offered hands to get yourself back onto your feet. Her extra hands disappear into a shimmer of flower petals and your mouth opens and closes a couple of times as you try to speak.

“It’s a lot to take in, don’t try and sort it out right now.” Jinbei offers with a smile. “First, let’s go see if you can swim.”

You nod uncertainly at first, but then a little more forcefully. It was good advice, to focus on one problem at a time.

Stepping out of the kitchen, you walk down the stairs, and see the demon-man sleeping against the ship’s railing. As asleep as you are sure he is, you’re equally certain that if you moved to take a sword or bring him harm he would be completely awake. You weren’t sure how you could be so certain of that, but it was something like knowing without knowing.

“The water might be colder than you expect, so brace for it before you jump in.” Sanji points out. “You don’t want to suck in a surprised gasp when you’re underwater.”

You step up on the railing with a nod. Taking in a deep breath you take a moment to scan the horizon, and the water. Crouching down before you jump you’re relieved to find your body is moving well on its own. There’s a smooth motion to things as you push off the rail and slip through the air toward the water.

The rush of air against you is brief, but long enough to trigger memories. You can feel the magic of your homeland in your memory, hurling you away from the strange land with its strangely manicured everything. But you’re not alone in the air. Metal orbs are being hurled all around you as several ships are in sharp pursuit of you. You’re scared, but you know you cannot risk being caught.

An explosion from your memory ravages your body in the present and you feel all your muscles clench before you hit the ocean water hard. The hard smack knocks the air from your lungs, and the cold water tenses your contracted muscles even harder. Your lungs were burning from the prematurely expelled air and your muscles screamed.

You managed to move toward the surface and suck in a breath, but you could only manage a weak struggle against the ocean’s surface before exhaustion started to pull you back under. You could hear something from the deck of the ship and were certain that they knew something was wrong.

The flood of memories gave you no relief. The sensation of struggling against the water continued your earlier memories, and the combination of sensations was powerfully disorienting. Cannonballs rained down around you, breaking into the water despite you knowing that no enemies were nearby. The sound of heavy objects cutting by you made your body ache with the memory of all your wounds.

You had been knocked from the air, and dropped into the sea, but how did you get away?

The jagged bolt of lightning fills your field of vision and your hand smacks something hard as you shield your eyes from a light only you can see. A steel grip on your wrist begins to drag you back to the surface, and you let it. Despite the memory telling you that you’ll be caught if you surface, you don’t want to fight back, your lungs and muscles hurt too much.

The dead cannot escape. Better caught today and free tomorrow, than a corpse in the sea.

Breaking the surface, you breathe in deep. Your limbs are shivering from the shock of hitting the water so hard along with the spasms that your memories had ripped into them. The water is cold, but not enough to make you hypothermic. The memory of your arrival here, walking on water in front of the strange man, escaping, and losing your pursuers in a storm, was still pounding into your head.

“Oi! Hey!” You can hear the demon-man yelling at you, but only barely.

You’re not from this world, you can remember your home. Your life. Your role. You don’t know how you ended up here, in this world. You just know that it’s not where you were born. There’s no Winternight here. No duchy, no winter magic.

Prophecy.

You had spoke words without speaking when you had arrived. You had walked on water, and then flew away. You were being pursued because you threatened something called the Empty Throne.

Heresy against the throne back home would mean execution. Prophecy or not.

“Help,” you needed help.

“That’s what I’m trying to do! Wake up already!” A grumbled voice breaks into your rattled mind and you realize you’re barely clinging onto the demon-man. He looks very angry until he realizes that you’re finally seeing him. There’s a shiver of relief across his features before he scowls at you again. “Can you climb?”

He nods his head up the ladder he’s holding onto with one hand, holding you with the other.

You shake your head. “Can’t.” You cough, bringing water up and out of your stomach. “Sorry.”

He grunts, dipping you both into the water to adjust his hold on you. You were practically a sack of potatoes for all the energy you had left, but he got you secured while holding onto the ladder.

“Oi! Shitty cook! Pull us up!”

“Eh, what do – holy shit Marimo, are you okay?!”

“Pull us up!” Zoro repeats.

You feel the ladder start to come up the side of the ship, and your only vaguely aware as your hauled over the rails by a few sets of hands. You’re not sure who is helping, but you cough up more water and resist the urge to fall asleep in the warm grass. Nearly drowning on top of being assaulted by your own body has you teetering on the edge of consciousness.

You see Zoro as Sanji helps pull him up on the deck. The demon-man has a deep bruise on his chest and is coughing up blood. Despite the severity of such an injury, he seems to be mostly okay, but you’re unsure how he was injured in the first place.

“What happened?” Sanji demands as Chopper tends to Zoro.

“Nothing.” Zoro says, giving Sanji a hard look.

The cook growls. “Don’t toss that crap around again! It wasn’t nothing then, and it ain’t now! What. Happened?”

Zoro looked at you and the cook followed his gaze. The two men regarded you for a moment, and Sanji seemed to calm down as Zoro repeated himself.

“Nothing, cook. It’s fine.”

“So, I guess this means you can’t swim?” Franky asks you as he helps you sit up.

“No… I can.” You manage a reply, breathing in deeper and coughing the last few bits of water. “If I couldn’t swim, I would’ve died before you all found me the first time.”

“Eh? You remember?”

You struggle to your feet, accepting Franky’s assistance to keep yourself steady. There’s a small commotion about how you should stay down and rest, but you’re focused on Luffy, and take a few steps toward him. The light-hearted farm boy vibe vanishes from him and he regards you with a focused look that belies his usual demeanor.

“I am… (Y/N), a knight of the Duchy of Winternight. I...” Your body shudders and exhaustion nearly topples you. “I… owe you, but…” Luffy’s helping you stay upright without any effort. The serious expression is still on his face, despite your vision beginning to blur you can feel those eyes peer into your soul. You want to pledge your life to him, to his cause. As a knight, you owe him.

But something in that gaze makes you spill your heart, and not your honor.

“I want… to go home.”

A/N – If you don’t know what “world” Winternight is from, I will eventually lay it out – in at least enough detail for the sake of this story. It’s not an Original World of Mine, nor is it Earth! If you already know where it’s from, then yay shared interests go-go!

[brooklynislandgirl]

RULES.  repost, don’t reblog

TAGGED.  @lokitheliesmith  {{mahalo! my dearest}}

TAGGING. Be Fae, steal memes

BASICS.

FULL NAME. Elizabeth Irene Riley (birth certificate: Elikapeka Ailine Alohaekaunei kahanuola'Ilikea'wahine Riley )

NICKNAME. Beth

BIRTHDAY. 28 June

ETHNIC GROUP.  Pacific Islander {Rokea Kinfolk}

NATIONALITY.  American {{Sovereign Kingdom of Hawai’i}}

LANGUAGE.   Beth is fluent in: Hawai’ian Pidgin {her language of choice},  English, Latin.  She’s conversational in: Japanese, Russian, Italian, French, Mandarin and Cantonese.  She can speak some: (modern) Greek, occasional Spanish, Romanian, some Gaelic. She made a point of learning Kikongo, Masalit, and Beria (the first a language of the Democratic Republic of Congo, the later two spoken in Darfur, where she spent time serving with Médecins Sans Frontières {Doctors without Borders}

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Demi-sexual, quoiromantic {{your guess is as good as hers}}

RELATIONSHIP STATUS. n/a

CLASS. 1% Wealthy/Upper class, {{Ali’i class}}

HOME TOWN / AREA. Honolulu, O’ahu, Hawai’i 

CURRENT HOME.  Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, New York

PROFESSION. ER Nurse, technically has an MD but dropped out during her residency.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR.  Rich dark brown, shoulder length-to mid back. Thick, soft, professionally styled.

EYES. Green/brown hazel {heterochromia}, naturally thick lashes.

NOSE. Small, straight. crinkles at the corners of her eyes when she genuinely smiles

FACE. Delicate features, high cheek bones, wide eyes, clearly bi-racial

LIPS. Soft, full lower lip, perfectly shaped upper cupid’s bow.

COMPLEXION.  Tawny brown/olive tone, a “warm” autumn, with red and yellow tints to skin and hair. Beth, being half Irish and half Polynesian falls under “ambiguously ethnic” and depending on style choices and sun exposure can range from almost a light complexion to deeply tan.

BLEMISHES. She has a fine little series of freckles around her mouth and across the bridge of her nose. Someone would have to look close to even notice them. There are the occasional freckles on her shoulders and down her back, as well.

SCARS. Shark Bite from just above her ankle, to just below of her knee of her left leg. The scar is deep, the muscle within appears atrophied, and a good portion was torn away. The surgery to repair it left her left leg fractions shorter than her right, and when she’s on her feet for too long, she often displays a limp. When she has to make public appearances, or goes to the beach, she will hide it with a minor illusion.

TATTOOS. She has a turtle tattoo whose shell is filled in with the Hawai’ian archipelago and a hibiscus on her left back hip. She has a Tree of Life tattoo just below her neck and between her shoulder blades. She has a three-stud sub-dermal piercing along the inside of her right hip.

BUILD.  Beth barely stands five feet tall, and tends to weigh between 90 and 96 pounds. If someone is being generous, she has been called petite, and slender. Beth sees herself as stunted and scrawny. She is perpetually underweight, despite her natural athleticism, and her curves are fairly modest, though she does have a rather lovely backside by western standards.

ALLERGIES. Bees, penicillin, latex, velvet. 

USUAL HAIR STYLE. Beth hasn’t worn her hair naturally in years, but often wears it up in braids, buns, or pony-tails for work reasons.

USUAL CLOTHING. She spends a majority of her time in scrubs. She often wears business suits, or couture gowns for charitable efforts, but is most comfortable wearing as little as possible: bikinis/sleeveless blouses, long flowing skirts.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR. The Dark. Heights. {{Being abandon/rejection/being alone}}

ASPIRATION.  n/a

POSITIVE TRAITS. Beth is kind, caring, soft, compassionate, loving, understanding, charitable. She is highly intelligent, a talented witch, a staunch champion of others. She will go above and beyond for others, and will befriend literally anyone or anything.

NEGATIVE TRAITS. Shy, envious, deep-seated rage, self-sabotaging, self-critical to the point of hatred, exceptionally emotional. Easily feels slighted. Can be clingy, stubborn, or petulant.

VICE HABIT. Chronic insomniac, tends to drink wine to cover up feelings.

FAITH. Raised as a devout roman catholic. Has come to realise most gods are really just unfeeling bastards.

GHOSTS? She knows a few.

AFTERLIFE? Yes

REINCARNATION? Yes

ALIENS? She knows a few of these, too.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT. Beth abhors human politics.

ECONOMIC PREFERENCE. She could live happily with absolutely nothing but the earth beneath her feet and all her worldly possessions in a sea-bag. But that’s easy to say as one of the richest people on the planet.

SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION. She wishes people would quit ruining the world.

EDUCATION LEVEL. Master of Nursing Science. Medical Doctorate {Neurosurgery}. Highly talented Life/Blood witch, near professional surfer, 

FAMILY.

FATHER. R. Admiral Brian C. Riley

MOTHER.  Iwalani Kahanaui Stern {formerly Riley}

SIBLINGS.  Andrew Riley- brother {deceased}, Jayden Morgan- hanai sister, William Manderly brother {unknown}

EXTENDED  FAMILY.  Drinks the Bitter Water - maternal grandfather,  Anakone Kahananui - maternal uncle,  Makaimakoa {Mike} Kahanui- maternal cousin, Tony DiNozzo- paternal cousin,  Aislinn Riley- paternal aunt, Phil Coulson - hanai uncle, Loki Friggjarson, Hela Lokadottir- hanai daughter niece. 

NAME MEANING.  Elizabeth: God is my Oath, Irene: Peace, Alohaekaunei: Love alights here

HISTORICAL CONNECTION. n/a

FAVOURITES.

BOOKS. The Princess Bride but she reads everything

MOVIES. The Princess Bride and Tombstone

MUSIC. Everything but “Death metal”

DEITY. ...next question?

HOLIDAY.  Mabon, the second harvest

MONTH.  September

SEASON.  Autumn/Winter

PLACE.   Kalokoiki, on the North Shore, the Banzai pipeline.

WEATHER. rainy nights, dawn right before or after a storm when the waves are perfect.

SOUND.  The sea, her brother’s singing

SCENT.  lei flower {plumeria}, sandalwood, sea air

TASTE. li ming hui // honey // coffee // blood

FEEL. water // skin

ANIMAL. Cat, turtles, sharks

NUMBER. 3

COLOR. Purple

EXTRA.

TALENTS. Dancing, surfing, knitting, drawing

BAD AT. People. Hearing things in general. Cannot cook to save her life.

TURN ONS. Kindness. Intelligence. Someone who can challenge and engage her. Caresses along the small of her back, biting

TURN OFFS.  Daddy-kinks, roses.

HOBBIES. Reading, surfing, hiking

TROPES. Manic Pixie Dream Witch // A Mistake is Born // Earth Mother // Granola Girl // 

AESTHETICS.  The sea, lava, blood, shy smiles, sharks.

FC INFO.

MAIN  FC. Kristin Kreuk

ALT  FC. This woman

OLDER  FC.   None

YOUNGER  FC. Aubrey Anderson-Emmons

VOICE  CLAIM.  - Kristin Kreuk

[thecactusoasis]

Maya Nephim

I’m going to ramble for a bit about one of the characters of Oraeka Project in this post. I will give a forewarning of spoilers of her story, as well as maybe some content warnings about her story involving deaths.

Maya Nephim, the daughter of a human mother and an Earth Kraeka father, was a human with a lot of compassion and love in the world.

The age I mostly depict Maya is- hard to describe. Her first known age within the story is roughly 22 and the last age I reveal her to be officially was 26.

Was. Yes. We’ll get back to that one.

Anyway she stood at 5′8″ with long purple hair and a lovely darker complexion. Her eyes were a vibrant raspberry color that only ever knew kindness when they looked upon you.

She was born on the continent Erocia near a location of it called Meteorite  Bay. The Bay itself, which was a rather large portion of the continent, held banished Kraeka and was a constant area of friction from the Humans that controlled and populated the continent. There were a few places that accepted Kraeka amongst the other humans, and it was one of those places Maya came from. Because of her mixed parent heritage she finds herself to be potent with no just Water Aura, but also Earth Aura. She uses these proficiency of hers to help people in need around her area and thanks to the occasional fighting she learned quickly how to heal and mend the body. Her path from here was set, and she finds herself learning to become a doctor and a field medic.

Soon enough she finds herself chasing a dream of joining the renowned Hunters to help people worldwide and to protect the treaties. She hoped that by joining this group she could help solve the building tension between the Banished Kraeka of the Bay and the Humans, her biggest inspiration being a red-headed officer that had come down to give official declarations of safe spaces for the Kraeka.

Maya joins the Medical Wing thanks to her incredible knowledge of medicine and is where Maya hits a hard wall in her career.

Her peers. The other Hunters of the Medical Wing turned out to not be too fond of Maya’s past heritage and spent a lot of time spreading ill fated rumors of Maya as a person. Patients avoided her help all together at times when they realized which nurse it was.

Still. She wasn’t someone you could keep down in this manner, in fact all it did was empower her to keep trying.

Her effort eventually pays off, when the Commanding Officer of the Investigation Wing came in for a checkup on an injury. The officer listened to the wing warn her about the nurse assigned to her that day, which the officer gave a frown.

“I will give judgment of that on my own terms, not through the words of others.”

Maya didn’t know anything was said to the Officer she was treating that day, so as usually she simply gave it her all. She was kind. Courteous. Gentle and knowledgeable. Her professionalism was a complete opposite of what her peers spoke of her, and the Officer grew angry at how Maya was being treated.

She scolded the Wing, and then that very day signed transfer papers for Maya to be moved to the Investigation Wing.

This Maya is drawn by @banboozl

Maya joins the Investigation Wing in excitement that the Commanding Officer that transferred here there was none other than the Hunter of Fire herself, Rin Kazashi. The redheaded girl that had inspired her to join the Hunters to begin with. Here Maya also meets someone who will eventually become her wife, Megumi Nen.

Her time here in this Wing was good. She became the lead medic of the Wing and eventually becomes third in command. She marries Megumi and helps her make a groundbreaking invention in the field of mechanical vehicles. It isn't until a few years later she learns through the Wings information network that trouble was brewing down in her hometown. As much as she wants to help, Rin tells her it might be too heated of an investigation for the girl thanks to how personal it would be. In fact Rin sends Maya and Megumi on vacation as she deals with the matter herself.

Rin considers this the worst choice she has ever made in her career.

Maya and Megumi head to Ibon, a continent to the north that's wedged between the two continents of Erocia(Humans) and Kraetia(Kraeka), to a small colony town known as Phoba. The area happens to be Megumis birthplace as well as the birthplace of the Airship.

The town of Phoba is complicated to explain. They reside close to a forest that the citizens mostly fear, and they fear most things not from their town. Or- ok it's not that hard to explain as their town is rather aptly named. Maya... didn't sit well with them. And the way the town deals with it is-... well atrocious. While staying with the Nens, who admittedly barely partakes in the towns oddities, Maya became much subject of discussion on fear of what she could be. She didn't seem human, and what little amount of the world they knew they stuck to an old myth and legend.

The chaos.

Fearing that Maya was one of those Mythical horrifying beings, and truly in a mob mentality believing she was out to do something to the Nens and the town denizens, the town as a majority voted to "deal" with her.

Maya was hunted.

And before Megumi, who had found out what the town was going to do, was shot through the chest with a crossbowbolt.

Maya Nephim, that day, died.

But years later none could have predicted the irony of the continuation of her story.

Her grave beside a single tree overlooking the Nen family's house and Hangar on the border of the forest, was dug up by an unknown person.

A being that sought her out specifically, sought the body that was tied to the soul it needed.

A Chaos Kraeka. The very thing the town feared.

A strange encounter with this being brings a meeting between it and Mayas deceased soul, and an offer to return to the world is made. An offer the girl gladly accepts... and now that she's become a reborn immortal being she's bent to use her powers to continue helping people.

A lot of this is paraphrasing. If you want to read the tragedy story itself, you can do so, Here