#everything else has been like. paranoia but also one of his staff is actually a monster so like

[astrangergivingthestrangewelcome]

Tim: I'm really unhappy with the fact my boss is stalking me.

Jonathan, overhearing: tape recorder that's the most suspicious thing I've ever heard.

[polyhexian]

An iteration of the eventually au where Raine and the CATTs actually accomplish…whatever their goals were ahead of time, and Belos dies and the government goes through an upheaval before the show timeline even starts.

The story pivots from "Jasper does what he can to protect Hunter from the sidelines" to "Jasper leverages every favor he's ever done for the CATTs as he negotiates to get and then maintain custody of his son".

Raine and the Martlet's relationship would be a big theme here. Raine has an entire government to reorganize and a public to placate, and here's the Martlet finally cashing in favors to…demand the CATTs hand the Golden Guard over to him. Raine doesn't know what to think of this, and Raine does not have time to think of this. There's some back-and-forth, some negotiating, because custody of the kid IS a weird thing to ask for, and Raine is trying to make sure the new government isn't as tyrannical as the old one. They want due process and trials (they would've wanted Belos to stand trial, but Belos refused to be taken alive, so that's not happening). So Raine is like "I get he's an imperial lackey and you hate him but idk if I can let you just have him for whatever weird revenge scheme you've cooked up, it'd be better to make him stand trial" and the Martlet is like "so your new regime is gonna punish a 16-year-old for being abused and manipulated?" and Raine is like and "well legally speaking he IS an adult so it wouldn't be out of bounds to make him answer for his crimes" and the Martlet is just like "I will break every bone in your body."

It'd go quicker if Jasper was up front about being Hunter's father, but…idk if he'd come clean about his identity. Intense paranoia has kept him alive, after all, but also there's a big push to punish Belos's followers so he'd rather no one know he was the Golden Guard, and if anything about grimwalkers comes to light and people start freaking out about THAT…yeah, no, he'll be the Martlet for the rest of his life if he has to, to keep Hunter safe. He'll tell Hunter everything once his son is safely in his keeping, but no one else needs to know. So he doesn't play the parent card.

But he doesn't have to. With the amount of favors the CATTs owe the Martlet, one unwanted orphan child soldier (and possibly one artificial magic staff) is too cheap of a price to turn down, especially since it saves Raine the headache of figuring out what to do with said unwanted orphan child soldier. Jasper is just relieved to finally get ahold of Hunter, but also infuriated by how easy it ultimately was, after all the talk. He knew he was the only person who prioritized Hunter's wellbeing, but literally no one else cared enough about Hunter to stop his supposed rival from taking him. This is all still pre-series; Hunter has no friends, no allies, no mentors or decent adult presences in his life. It's literally just Jasper looking out for him.

Hunter, meanwhile, is going through it, especially since there's multiple ways he could be going through it. Was he present during the coup? Was he out on a mission and got taken by surprise upon his return? Did shit go down while Hunter happened to be on Belos's bad side and afterwards he was found where he'd been locked in his room and neglected for a week?

However you wanna slice it, he gets tossed in the Conformitorium with the other Belos loyalists, awaiting trial or execution or whatever's in store for him. He's emotionally reeling, his entire world has fallen apart, he has no idea what he's supposed to do at this point, he has absolutely no one looking out for him, he's scared and alone and so, so tired and then he suddenly starts getting regular visits from his archnemesis.

The Martlet is strangely supportive, treats Hunter like a person instead of imperial scum, keeps him updated on what's going on politically, genuinely wants to know how Hunter's holding up or if there's anything he needs, brings him books and things from his room (Sprig)…he's gentle and understanding and protective, even. (The prison guards aren't kind, but they only get to be cruel once before the Martlet finds out and kicks them in the teeth.) The Martlet is upfront about the fact that he's trying to get custody of Hunter, and promises he's not going to let him be imprisoned for life or executed, the Martlet will get him out of there one way or another. And Hunter sits in his cell between visits, wrestling to reconcile everything he thought he knew about the Martlet and his uncle and the empire and remembering a time not too long ago when the Martlet made him an offer after a rescue in a cave, and realizing…there might actually be one person in the world who really does care about him.

Obviously they still have issues and ups and downs and whatever, but like. It's a bit overshadowed by the fact that they're not out of the woods yet. Jasper is actively (instead of passively) fighting for his son's safety, and Hunter finds himself forced to rely on a man he thought was his enemy for protection.

OUGGHHH. If it's before he's thirteen hes not the golden guard yet, but it's much more interesting if it's after. So Hunter is thirteen when this happens.

I mean I do gotta say from raines point of view this shit is sus as fuck. Raine doesn't initially know that hunter is a kid. My personal thought is that in canon they don't know this until becoming coven head; in eventually they do at some point beforehand because they're a lot more active in rebelling here.

And so like. Raine barely knows Marty. He's some obsessive freak with a bird willing to kill strangers to earn favours, and completely fucking obsessed with someone Raine's just found out is a teenage boy. Like they gotta hit a point where they're like okay absolutely the fuck not. They do NOT trust his mysterious intentions. They carry a very genuine risk of something I don't think Raine would let happen even to the emperor's attack dog.

All that is to say, I don't think he's getting hunter without 1. Admitting he's his dad 2. Stealing him

Because he's so fucking consumed by paranoia- kind of rightfully so tbh- yeah he's never going to burn an ace up his sleeve if he can hold it a little longer. So he plays his favours which gets hunter out of trouble at least. They're not going to charge him with anything. He gets him out of jail. So he's on. Like. House arrest. So, for the DRAMA:

Hunter is staying with Raine and they're bringing him along with them everywhere so 1. he can't run off 2. Jasper can't fucking kidnap him

Just. The drama. Jasper fucking following Raine around like give me the kid. Give me the kid. Give me the kid. And Raine is like sure, the second you give me a good reason to. Jasper is like because I'll tell everyone all the fucked up shit you've had me do. And Raine is like yeah okay but who is going to believe you. Hunter just doesn't know what the fuck is going on, but jasper is really nice to him and keeps bringing him snacks and.orimjsing he's going to get him out of all this

And of course you get the EXCELLENT dramatic concept of jasper getting sick of it and kidnapping him in the night only to have to actually fight Raine. Fuck yeah. And also like. What does Hunter do during this. Does he take this opportunity to make a run for it?! Does he help Raine or jasper?? Does he hide?? Who wins?!

[sunluzhen]

"LOST."

Memory drabble prompt, requested by @light-imperfected .

The following recounts MK's first encounter with Lady Bone Demon through his perspective. Warnings for uh... everything she is. Horror themes and MK's downward spiral and panic. It uh. Got kinda long, and I accidentally deleted the original draft replying to the ask directly, so. Regular post it is. I did have fun writing this though! It's all below the read more. Please let me know what you think if you read this. :)

He's alone, and it's dark, and it's wet, and so very cold. The tunnel's exit is within sight, at least. He can't wait to feel the sun and wind on his face again, to put the whole brush with the Spider Queen behind him and the humiliating ordeal of figuring out how to shrink and unshrink on his own—

A small part of him, bitter and quiet, murmurs that he shouldn't have had to figure out his powers on his own. That he shouldn't have had to deal with Spider Queen's apparent return by himself.

Shake it off. Put one foot in front of the other. It's almost over. He just needs to—

Someone was crying.

A shiver races down his spine at the realization. He stops. Turns around. Thinks: I don't want to be the protagonist in a horror movie — but if someone else got lost down here, then they must be so very scared. And he was the city's new hero. He has to go help them.

It's a trap, whispers the wind. He brushes it off as paranoia. He still has to investigate. The sobbing sounds like it's coming from someone young. Holding his staff in front of himself protectively, he carefully makes his way towards the source of the sound — deeper inside the tunnel. The opposite direction of the exit.

Everything was quiet, save for the sound of a child's sobbing and his own anxious breathing. It was so cold down here. Even in the midst of summer. Something isn't right. Turn back. Turn back. You know what's going to happen why aren't you turning back—

One foot in front of the other, he rounds a corner, and sees her. A little girl curled up on the floor. It's not a little girl. Open your eyes. Turn around. Run. He does none of those things, continuing to shove back the small voices in the back of his head. He thinks they're himself. They probably are. 

He approaches the little girl. She sounds and acts just like some kid that found herself in some place she really wasn't supposed to be. Alone and scared and so very alone. Just like him. He puts a hand on her shoulder, ignores how cold she felt to the touch — it was cold down there, after all, and who knows how long she'd been wandering these tunnels searching for a way out. It’s a trap. Look. You should be looking.

He's the ‘Monkey Kid'. The city’s hero. Of course he tries to comfort her. He says all the things he wishes for someone to say to him. He’s out there, somewhere, apparently confident that his student can handle things by himself already. He’s certain it was a lie, like the kind of assurances adults tell kids to try and placate them but no one actually believes in those—

So, of course he listens when the little girl says that Spider Queen was working on something truly evil. That he must follow her and see so that he can destroy it before she finishes making whatever she's planning. She leads him even further into the tunnels. Back into the demon’s lair.

He really should've listened to his instincts the first time. He doubts himself far too much to rely on them when it matters. He thinks this as he wounds up glimpsing his reflection on a familiar surface, freezing mid-strike. The voice that is also him, but maybe also not, shouts at him to stop. It’s a trap. Please listen, just this once, and run. Now.

It’s too late. Dread is a heavy weight plummeting inside his stomach as he slowly turns around. Never before was the color blue so horrifying. The wind whispers but it's no longer familiar. The hairs on the back of his neck bristle. His heart pounds in his chest. 

Ancient. Angry. Cold. She's knocking on the door. Don’t let her in. She’s already inside. You should’ve listened to yourself. It hurts. He’s scared and there’s no one to help him. He did leave him, didn’t he? He stumbles, trips, jerks his limbs around in a vain effort to try and get away. He has to stop her. Here, now, somehow. He’s not capable of it, not as he is right now. He wishes that that person never left. He really shouldn't be alone right now.

He clumsily swings his staff. There’s nothing for it to hit. She's everywhere and nowhere at all. She’s chasing him. She hasn't moved at all. A hand that’s not there lunges for his throat and catches him in a vice grip. It’s cold and he can't breathe and no one is going to save him. He can't do this. Why did anyone think he could possibly do this? The answer is that no one did. He knows this. She doesn't have to say it, but she does. She coos and she jeers and she laughs at him—

His savior didn't even mean to save him. Like the helpless coward he is, he takes the distraction as a chance to slip away. He shrinks to the size of a pathetic little ant and scurries away. She lets him. Because she's everywhere and nowhere at all — and she got the staff like she wanted. He makes it home because she let him leave. 

He goes to sleep feeling still feeling so terribly cold. He wakes up to nothing having changed. He knows that he can't tell anyone. That there’s nothing him or any of his friends could possibly do to stop something like that. Even Xiaojiao. He knows this; it’s a fact that’s embedded itself into his very marrow. He’s supposed to protect everyone, but he couldn’t even protect himself. He thinks that he was probably abandoned, and he can’t even get angry about it. Everything still feels too cold for that. That they might have all been. He doesn't know. He doesn't want to listen to the words he was already thinking — that she just gave voice to.

Maybe he just has to get stronger, somehow. Better. He doesn't really need the staff. He thought he did. It was one of the nicer lies that he told himself, maybe. That he actually needed it. That his powers came from it. Little good they did him, though. If only he wasn't left alone.

He wouldn't be so very lost if that was the case.

But it's not. 

[comas-are-for-sleeping]

ok you have a special interest in tma (im pretty sure) and i do not want to relisten to the whole fucking series SO can you give me liek a summary (however detailed you want) of what i need to know beofre tmp please and thank you

what gave you that impression whaaat???

ok but i love this question bc i can procrastinate on my hw without catastrophizing yippee!!

i'll do like a timeline of main events without dates bc i cannot actually remember numbers for shit

Jonathon Sims becomes Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute (im going to stop with capitals bc it is too much work) because his predecessor, gertrude robinson, died. he's extremely skeptical of anything "paranormal" so it's kinda funny in the beginning bc his whole job is recording statements people have given of their encounters/experiences. Every episode at this point ends with a, "well, it could be dismissed except for this one spooky detail."

at some point a delivery made by breakon and hope (a delivery company that shows up in statements; two guys with suspicious cockney accents) to jon. it's a table with a hole in the center (also has shown up in statements multiple times). because of its association to, like, bad things, jon takes an axe to the thing and it is left in artifacts storage.

the events of season one are basically worm lady named jane prentiss is stalking the institute in order to take it over. she traps martin blackwood, the poor sweet boy, in his apartment for a week. now he cant stand the sight or taste of canned peaches! he moves into the archives temporarily because of this. jon finds him annoying/a nuisance but is very quick to offer the archives as a place for him to stay (spoilers they kiss). sasha james, another employee, meets an entity who calls itself Michael (an icon) who takes her to see a guy from a statement where his one night stand explodes into worms bc she had an encounter with jane prentiss. he is now a worm person. michael gets a worm from sasha's arm that tried to get into her arm w his finger which is Too Long and Too Sharp. The season ends with prentiss invading the archives and being burned to death! tim stoker (another employee, promise that's mostly all of them), martin, and jon are all Traumatized and end up covered in scars from getting worms out of each other with a corkscrew :) sasha and elias bouchard (everyone's boss) attempt to get out, but sasha is separated and ends up in artifacts storage. someone else is there and then the tape cuts out (everything is being recorded on tapes because something funky happens when certain statements come in contact with digital technology). the tape goes missing.

season two is jon's Paranoia Era. he's not sure who he can really trust anymore, since if jane was out there, there must be others and they could even be his own staff (how did she get in?? what are the underground tunnels beneath the archives??). at the end of each statement there is now a "supplemental" in which he describes his suspicions (which leads to him following some of his employees to their homes and they find out and... are not very pleased) and his findings in explorations of these strange tunnels that seem to move by themselves. there is someone down there, but who could it be?

oh btw another reoccurring thing are spooky books with the name "jurgen leitner" in them

the last two statements before Shit Goes Down are both about someone who's relative changes appearance, sound, and personality, except that no one thinks that this has happened and even pictures would suggest they had always looked like that (except polaroids and tapes). jon finds sasha's "missing" tape and listens to it. and... she sounds different in this recording. uh oh!! she isn't who she says she is!! she attacks him, he ends up running around in the archives (perhaps because of michael, who has a multidimensional door that enters into a spiral of confusing hallways) and meets the man himself, jurgen leitner (who, it turns out, has been the one living in the archives). they trap the Not-Sasha in the tunnels because leitner has a book that, if he reads certain sections, can move the walls/stairs/entryways/etc. jon Obviously has questions, so they go into his office and he keeps interrupting leitner (obviously). what he is able to tell jon is basically:

he found some spooky books and decided that he could collect them all. he built a library and put his name in all the books he owned, but one day it was too much and basically the whole thing burned down, all his assistants died, and the books were yet again scattered to the winds. he explains that he believes these books, entities, and items are all part of powerful beings. he also tells jon that elias killed gertrude. jon freaks out and decides to take up smoking again in that moment, so leitner is left alone. and elias goes in there and kills him with a lead pipe. jon comes back and is like wtf. he's pinned as the murderer bc all his coworkers were suspicious of his behaviors.

so now jon is on the run. he hides in his ex-girlfriend's apartment. he decides to do field research into something gertrude seemed to be interested called The Unknowing. we also learn that he encountered a leitner book as a child which led him to witness his school bully being taken by a spider behind a door (this is an animatic of said book teehee). also that georgie (the ex) also had an encounter separate from him which resulted in her losing all ability to feel fear. jon's field research leads him to find various entities from the statements and is kinda bullied by all of them tbh. hand burned by a woman who's basically made of wax (she likes destroying people's things and fire), simulated vertigo from a guy with a lightning scar down his back, and kidnapped by a clown manequine who wants his skin (as part of the Unknowing)! oh and also almost murdered by a bloodthirsty cop (daisy tonner my beloved plus her gf basira. idr if their relationship was ever established but). he tells daisy that he wasn't the one who killed leitner and that it was elias (i think he has proof?? bc she believes him). they corner him but hes like lol no u cant kill me if you kill me you all die rip teehee!!

oh! on his adventures, he ends up in america and learns that the powers are organized into types of fears. there are fourteen of them, jon works for the Eye. jane was the corruption (rot, bugs). the circus is the stranger (fear of the other, unknown, etc).

at this point i think also the clown + her circus have gathered all the materials for this "Unknowing," (a ritual of sorts). the crew (now including daisy and basira) devise a plan to end it while also distracting elias so that he can be arrested. jon makes martin and tim stay behind (as the distraction), but tim refuses bc his brother was killed by a clown (not the same one as the kidnapper) and hes Angry. I think at this point basira and melanie (she made a statement and then got fired from her job as a ghost hunter youtuber) work at the institute also.

they enter the circus Unknowing and martin burns statements to get elias's attention. all the circus people forget who they are so it's hard to blow everything up, but they figure it out enough for tim to detonate. daisy is thrown into a coffin (also a thing that shows up in multiple statements), tim dies in the explosion, and jon is catatonic.

season four! jon wakes up six months later in the hospital and is told that he was entirely dead except for brain activity. martin is distant, elias has been arrested and replaced by peter lukas, a name that has also shown up before. he is part of the lukas family, which is aligned with the lonely (they help fund the institute). jon pulls back up to his place of work and everyone's kinda annoyed and sad bc their friends are dead. melanie is increasingly violent, most likely due to a ghost bullet in her leg from right before she was hired (this is the slaughter, which is war and senseless violence/murder). she hates jon because she is stuck working for the institute forever (you cant leave or you'll like. get increasingly more sickly or something like that). basira spends a lot of time in the institute library. jon realizes that he can Know things randomly now. he also starts needing to read statements in the way that we need food and sometimes kinda is not so great to (random) people when he's especially lacking

oh my turns out there is a word limit to these things!! whoopsie doo there is more so get ready ig

[dreamii-yume]

Hey Yume, some of your one shots have the boys being really rough on the poor reader. How would they react if they wound up ALMOST killing reader because of their rough treatment? Would their behavior towards Reader change?

*SINFIC CH. 10 FLASHBACKS a-about that, Honey...ヽ(；▽；)

Riddle and Malleus would feel their own hearts skip multiple beats that it actually hurt. They drop everything that their holding, probably their staff, and every action that could bring further danger to you would be ceased immediately. They’ll quickly check you in every angle to see if you’re injured anywhere else and would try to talk to you just to make sure that you’re still breathing, looking closely you could clearly see the look of fear in their eyes. Riddle would probably panic real bad while Malleus would remain quiet, but the beating of his heart is deafening. They’ll stumble over their own words when given the chance to talk to someone (Trey/Lilia) as they try to explain what happened.

This would probably alert their paranoia in the coming future, fearing that something similar might happen again and would one day take your life in an unfair way. They would be a lot more gentle, and in Riddle’s case, would lower down his resitrictions to make sure you won’t suffocate with them too much. They’ll make sure this won’t happen again, but they’ll become more protective, that’s for sure.

Trey, Ruggie, Jamil, and Silver aren’t usually the types to be rough with their Darlings, but for the sake of this ask, let’s just say that you did something that really ticked them off, causing them to act like so. Since these are the characters that has their emotions kept under control most of the time, they’ll most likely won’t recognize how much strength they have used against you. This would result into their own surprise as they realized that their Darlings barely responded and was at the brink of passing out because of it. They’ll immediately have their guard up, quickly running to your side to inspect whatever injury you’re suffering from. All jokes and silliness would be wiped away from their faces as they tend to you in all seriousness, talking to you so you wouldn’t fall completely unconscious and god forbid, never wake up again.

They may sound calm when they’re tending to you, if your injury is something that they can’t handle alone, they’ll have no problem calling someone who’s a lot more professional than they are. Their words are clear and no trace of nervousness can be heard, but that’s just in your and other people’s perspective. Looking deep into their hearts, it’s racing so fast that it can’t even put into words. They know what they did wrong and for the first time since they got you, they felt actual fear that they might’ve lost you right then and there. They’ll apologize to you right after, smiling at you, saying how everything was their fault.

Of course, this will motivate them to do better next time, to keep their emotions calm no matter how intense the situation may be for the both of you. Because you never know, there might never be a next time around.

Ace, Cater, and Floyd are the types that wouldn’t notice their sudden fit of strength at first. Whether they got too excited, angry, or irritated, they won’t notice how much they have hurt you the first time. If you’re not responding, Cater and Ace would probably dismiss it as you being uncooperative, Cater might even fake a sulking personality saying how “teasing him is so mean”. However, someone like Floyd wouldn’t appreciate getting ignored by his Darling so if say, you lost consciousness during this time around, expect that he’ll try shaking you awake, possibly even rougher than before as he expects you to constantly tend to him in his every needs. But everything would change for these three men when you either start to bleed from an injury, your breathing slows down, or your completely unresponsive no matter how much they try to shake you awake.

They’ll all probably have similar reactions, they’ll call out for you gently at first, trying to wake you up and saying that what you’re doing isn’t “funny”. Eventually, they’d come to understand that this was no prank, you’re really losing every bit of your life right in front of them and that immediately place a heavy weight of panic upon their shoulders. They would curse both yourself and themselves as they try to tend for you, clearly unaware of what to do. Floyd would most likely call Jade or Azul, whining how Little Shrimpy’s “not moving” anymore while Ace and Cater might do the most reasonable act and take you to a nearby hospital. After this crisis had been averted, I think that although they may have the similar reactions, they’re behavior right after would vary from each character.

Floyd and Ace will most likely bring that blame on yourself, Ace especially saying how things happened the way it is because you’re so stubborn and that you’re not following his orders at all. You just won’t expect an apology from Ace at all, but deep down inside he knows that he’s the one who’s guilty but just can’t admit it himself. Floyd, on the other hand, will also put the blame on you but not in the way you think he would. He’ll most likely blame you because of how you made him feel throughout that whole ordeal, that it’s Little Shrimpy’s fault that he’s this worried and anxious now. He doesn’t blame you for what happened to you, in fact, I think he does realize that he’s the one at fault and would even apologize, although he sounds like a child saying sorry to another child he stole a crayon from.

And now, we have Cater, who would definitely recognize his own faults but covers it up with a smile as he apologizes in such a half-assed manner. You, as his Darling, would have a hard time believing him even though the guilt is practically eating Cater on the inside. He’s just not really that honest with himself, plus such a dark atmosphere is not something he’s good at handling, you know? But he made extra sure that you can see how serious he is when he said that he can change his ways, that he’ll control himself from now on so that was at least something. As for Ace and Floyd, they wouldn’t really change all that much after everything is all said and done, except for a few hesitance here and there, not wanting for the same situation to strike again.

At least they’re doing their best, yeah?

Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Sebek are characters that are generally rough when they get too ahead of their emotions, even if they try to control themselves. But sometimes, things happens and they get a bit too far in line and almost immediately, once they hear an unusually loud gasp of pain from you, that’s when they know that they did something very wrong. Just seeing your weakened form would automatically shift their realization to their own strength and how rough they had been, however before they could even apologize, what they did had unfortunately already happened. Deuce especially would try to tend to you with whatever he can, panicking the most out of the four as he tries to remember what he could do at this dire moment. Obviously, he can’t treat your wounds like how he recklessly does his in the past after a brutal fight so he would probably result into calling a senior or a nearby hospital if the injury looks too risky.

Epel would panic, but a little less than Deuce at least as he would remember all the herbalism lessons he received from Vil, and what kind of treatment he should do with such injury. Despite everything, he’s still a Pomefiore student who prides himself with potions along with everyone else, right? He’s determined about which potions to give you, all those hellish training he received must’ve prepared him just for this moment. Of course, when things goes to down south and he isn’t able to act up fast enough, he’ll suck up his pride and go to either his Vice Dorm or Dorm Leader themselves for some help. Jack and Sebek would have similar reactions though, but of course, Sebek would be the one to panic first.

Sebek will check if your situation is something he can handle first, calling out to you with his usual loud voice, slowly getting frightened that his tone was doing nothing or even lifting your consciousness back up. Sebek doesn’t trust any other humans to take care of you so he’ll probably go to Lilia during times of desperation, explaining loud and clear what happened and humbly asks for his help. Meanwhile, Jack is the type to be calm on the outside but that single strand of sweat down his forehead shows how nervous he really is on the inside. He’ll do everything he can to save your situation, trying to ignore the overwhelming guilt in his heart for now as he takes you to a nearby hospital. Yes, he’s calm but he still might end up blowing a fuse and growls aggressively when a staff member asks too many questions since he’s so anxious that they you might not make it if they don’t take care of you right away.

Overall, I think all of them but Sebek would have similar reactions and outcome right after. They’ll apologize and would promise to you that something like this won’t ever happen ever again and that they’ll take care of you better. Sebek however, would be quite stubborn about it, shifting the blame on you for being too “weak” to handle something like that. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s not guilty himself, he won’t openly show it but along with all the other three, they’ll become a lot more protective than they used to be, shielding you from anything that’s harmful. They’ll be a little less overbearing and could even give you a bit more freedom despite their own paranoia if you really want to.

Of course, that doesn’t mean you can take advantage of that, okay?

Leona is aware how rough he is with you, that’s just his overall nature as a beast after all. Though, you might not notice this time around, but he actually tries to hold back whenever he can to accomodate to your needs, so that you wouldn’t break so easily within his hands. But today does not seem to be the day, control was not added to his list this time around. Clicking his tongue as soon as he noticed the alarming difference in your breathing and heartbeat, he’ll most likely throw his phone at Ruggie or Jack to call the nearby hospital along with his wallet too, though he doesn’t like the thought of handing you over to someone, even if it were medical professionals. If there’s a healing potion nearby, he’ll quickly snatch it up, read the first label, before shoving it down your throat without even reading the rest of the potion description.

...Now, you might see him as reckless and even more aggressive than before when you were fine, but you have to understand. This was desperation he’s feeling, there was no way in hell he’ll admit it but the moment he felt your heartbeat slow down, his emotions dropped down in an alarming rate too, you know? So, of course he’ll be this aggressive when trying to save you from a life or death situation. There was just no way that he’s going to let you go out like this, death doesn’t even have the right to take you away from him. Of course, despite everything, this doesn’t really change his ways after everything’s all said and done, you know?

An apology just doesn’t seem like something that would come out of Leona’s mouth anytime soon so, I don’t recommend expecting anything. In fact, he might even get angry at you, saying things like how you took way too long to recover and won’t even give you time to protest back. But he’s aware that he’s at fault at least, he accepted it actually, but frankly, he just doesn’t care if you see him as a villain or anything lik that. He’ll still treat you with the same roughness and aggresiveness as before, but somehow you began to notice how his bites doesn’t seem to dig as far beyond your flesh that it bleeds anymore, it was just enough to cause a mark now. You don’t even dare to mention how cuddling time seems to last longer than it should’ve had.

Situations like these might bring Azul and Kalim to tears, realizing that their actions had gone too far for your body to handle. They’re quick to use all the healing elixirs they had and Kalim would immediately call for Jamil’s assistance while Azul calls for the twins. Some potions takes a while to take in effect, it’s a fact that they knew however just can’t tolerate the thought of sitting there and not doing anything, Azul most especially. They’ll call for multiple doctors that they had personal connection with, Kalim would even call for doctors that works for the royal families and doesn’t care how much he’ll have to pay them even if it means saving his Darling. Azul would be the type to yell at each doctor to hurry the hell up before it’s all too late due to panic, so different from his usual calm self.

Their behavior changes quite similarly with each other as they would both apologize to you over and over again, their arms wrapped around you as if you’ll disappear once they loosened their hold. This is probably going to traumatize both of them and will become even more protective than they ever did with you, watching everything you do in anticipation of another dangeous situation. Kalim has a better grasp over his emotions since he listens to you better and promises to never become rough with you ever again, but he’ll stay with you for the majority of the time, granting everything you could wish for and to make sure that you’re being taken good care of. But good luck trying to talk you way out with Azul though, this man is a bit more unhinged when it comes to his emotions. He won’t listen to your suggestions because he only believes in the things that he thinks is right for you.

Although Azul promised you that he won’t be as rough next time, you have a feeling that this uncontrollable paranoid feelings of his would be the exact thing that would ultimately lead him to break his own promise.

Jade, Rook, and Lilia would be surprised but not at all panicked, these are the characters that knows fairly well how nimble human life could be and had already prepared for situations like this. They’ll carefully tend to you and fix what they did wrong, soothing your pained expression in a matter of minutes, since they’re so used to this by now. They’ll apologize right after, feeling genuinely saddened by what happened to you as an outcome of their own selfishness, but I don’t think they’ll change their ways anytime soon. It’s disturbing to think that they might even do it again for all we know, just to observe what will happen and to know how far they can really go. But they’ll have to make sure to be very careful the next time they try though, they won’t like you broken after all. A terrifying thought, isn’t it?

It might capture Vil off-guard at first, the way his Darling suddenly weakened for receiving too much punishments, but it was nothing to worry about when he’s this talented when it comes to elixirs. With just a single drop, he’s confident that he can clear you all off your pain and injuries would go away just like that, if you’re a good girl that is, but of course, he’ll use it when it’s a life or death situation...Unless the potion doesn’t work, then that would be a different story which would lead Vil to immediately contacting the nearest hospital. I think Vil would definitely realize his own faults here and apologize to you right after, but expects you to learn your lesson as well. It doesn’t really change the way he acts towards you but he’ll certainly become a lot more careful in the future.

Idia wouldn’t know what to do and panic with tears prickling around his eyes as the blue flames that is his hair roared in anxiety. His flexible fingers would do a quick search in the net in mere seconds, but none of the solution seems to align with what he did, plus you were running out of time so he needed to actually move for real. He’ll use Ortho to initiate medical mode on you in which the young robot will be more than willing to do while he remains by your side, apologizing constantly, saying how much of a screw-up he is that he wasn’t even able to take care of you properly. This will definitely scare him in the future, especially now that he realized how fragile you really are. He got a good glimpse of what will happen if he ends getting too comfortable with your body, the mere thought of it happening again will traumatize him enough that he might not even touch you for a while.

...He will get lonely though so, little by little, he might try to talk to you, always asking if you’re okay.

This took me way too much time but it’s worth it~ (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀) I love it when these boys suffer because of their own yandere consequences lol

[squeamishdionysus]

The Boy in the Tea Shop

Chapter 1

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

TW: none that i can note

summary: You're living alone as a refugee in Ba Sing Se. Things all seem normal until you meet a boy in a tea shop.

notes: omg this took so long. this took way longer than I ever thought it would. I'm so sorry for the long wait again, y'all, but school has just been really overwhelming, not to mention my mental health hasn't been the best. Anyways, it felt good to get this done finally! This is the first chapter of a Zuko x Reader series I will be doing centered around Zuko's arch in Ba Sing Se. I'm really looking forward to this! Now, this chapter is unedited and I'll admit, not the best work I've done, but I tried my best and just wanted to get the first chapter awkwardness out of the way. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Edit: I forgot to mention that the reader uses she/they pronouns and has long enough hair to pull up. They are addressed as "miss" as well.

Masterlist

Being a refugee in Ba Sing Se was not easy.

The Dai Li were around every corner, as well as thieves and swindlers, and so many other people around you were struggling to get by. You weren’t allowed to mention the very war that brought you to Ba Sing Se, and as a consequence of that, it was hard to find anyone who might’ve known your family and would be willing to help you out.

Your parents had sacrificed a lot to make sure you got to Ba Sing Se, feeling you’d be much safer there than back home in your small village, one that was right in the path of invading Fire Nation troops. The trip was long and hard, and now that you were there, it didn’t seem very worth it. You had very little money, knew no one, and felt suffocated by the “culture” that was enforced on everyone.

You sighed, closing and locking the door to the pottery shop. You had gotten a job there weeks ago, and though the pay wasn’t a lot, the owner was incredibly kind and you actually enjoyed working there. It paid enough for living expenses and basic necessities, which is what mattered. Today, however, you were given a small bonus, as you had sold a very valuable piece to a very important customer and actually managed to convince them to pre-order two more. Your boss was very impressed and rewarded you with some money to spend on something special.

You didn’t have much in mind. There wasn’t a lot going on in the Lower Ring. The best you could do for now, besides looking around for something to do, was keep your money out of plain sight. There were just too many thieves around this area to risk it.

A short grumble came from your stomach, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten since earlier that morning.  There weren’t many good restaurants around here, though, as all of those were up in the Middle Ring. However, all of the monorails were closed and it would be a nightmare to try and walk all the way up there. It seemed that the only option you had for now was a tea shop, as those were more easily accessible in the Lower Ring. One that came to mind was the Pao Family Tea House. You had heard from your employer that they had just recently hired new staff, and that the tea, which was mediocre at best before, was now the best in Ba Sing Se. You were sure that was a stretch, but it couldn’t hurt to try, could it?

You opened the door to the tea shop, looking up at the customers sitting around at each table. Most were guards and workers from around the city, probably because, like you, they were all off from their work shifts. They all seemed to be enjoying the tea they ordered, which gave you a little bit of hope that maybe you hadn’t decided to waste your time and money on something you wouldn’t enjoy. You took a seat at the only empty table left and looked at a small menu that was to the side, trying to pick out something you’d like but also could afford.

Thankfully, everything on the menu was in an affordable range. That came to no surprise, considering the quality and location of the tea house. They only had three different teas you could order and a few snacks you could order as sides. No matter what you ordered, it probably wouldn’t be enough to completely satisfy your hunger. You probably had something else back at the apartment, though. You’d worry about it when you got there.

The most appealing thing on the menu to you at that moment was the jasmine tea. Jasmine tea wasn’t something you had very often. Your mother only made it on special occasions, as it was hard to get jasmine tea leaves where you lived. Of course, being a large city, Ba Sing Se had plenty of it, meaning that what used to be a delicacy to you could now be found everywhere. Still, you limited yourself to only having it once in a while, that way it still felt rewarding whenever you ordered it. Along with the tea, you picked out the largest snack they had: a plate of cakes, just to make sure you wouldn’t be starving later.

You put the menu to the side, looking up to see a waiter walking towards your table.

A cute waiter. 

A cute waiter your age.

He was tall; that was the first thing you noticed about him. The second was his scar. He had a scar that covered his right eye, one that was clearly caused by a burn of some kind. It wasn’t pleasant (in your eyes, no scars were), but it didn’t mean you found it ugly. Everyone in the Lower Ring had scars of some kind, some visible and some not. It wasn’t any of your business to judge him by that. 

The third thing you noticed were his eyes. They were what you could only describe as a mix of brown and amber, something you couldn’t say you had ever seen before. 

You felt yourself beginning to blush a bit, knowing you did not look your absolute best from having to work all day. It didn’t help that you probably had bags under your eyes. You didn’t exactly live in the safest part of town, and more often than not you found yourself lying awake, paranoid about what might happen if you dozed off for even a second. If it wasn’t paranoia, it was the vivid nightmares that had plagued your mind about the Fire Nation ever since you left home. 

The boy stopped in front of your table, pulling out a pen and notepad from his apron pocket. “Hello, welcome to the Pao Family Tea House. What would you like?” His voice was hoarse and raspy. You could hear a mix of boredom and weariness ring through his words. It was something you heard in your own words all the time, especially at work. You managed a small smile and looked at the menu to refresh your mind of your order.

“Can I get a cup of jasmine tea and a small plate of cakes?” you asked, looking up at him. He looked down at you and paused for a moment, seeming to examine you just for a short second before nodding. He walked back to the counter, placing the order in front of an older man who was holding a teapot and chatting with whom you could only assume was the manager.

You sighed, looking back down at the table in thought. The waiter was intriguing, but you didn’t have the confidence to push past just ordering food. You didn’t know him and he didn’t know you. There was no point in trying to become anything more than strangers.

Then again, it couldn’t hurt to be friendly.

You soon saw the waiter walking back to your table, a cup of tea on his tray. He placed it down on your table, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Thank you,” you said, lifting the cup and breathing in the steam that came from the tea. It smelled delicious, which isn’t something you could normally say about tea in the Lower Ring. You smiled up at him. “Did you make the tea yourself?”

The waiter looked unsure of what to say. Either what you had just said was incredibly stupid or you were one of the first customers to say anything to him, and for your dignity’s sake, you hoped it was the latter.

“Um, no. My uncle made it.”

You looked over his shoulder, spotting a surprisingly recognizable older man with a teapot in his hands, chatting with one of the guards as he served their tea. 

“Is he your uncle?” you asked, nodding to the man. The waiter looked over and nodded. You chuckled, recalling your encounter with the man.

“I recognize him, actually. He came into the shop I work at a few weeks ago and bought a vase.”

The waiter looked back at you, a slightly curious look coming across his features. You went on, smiling softly.

“He was very friendly. He flirted with my boss a bit, and even managed to leave a tip, despite mentioning he was a refugee.”

The waiter huffed a bit, his eyes trailing to the floor. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

It was silent for a moment, as you studied the features of the waiter some more. It occured to you that since his uncle was a refugee, that probably meant the boy was, and he didn’t seem to be all that proud of it. You couldn’t blame him. The Lower Ring was not a place you were fond of either, and the title “refugee” didn’t warrant many perks around here.

“I’m actually a refugee, too.” You said. The boy looked back up at you, his expression unreadable yet again. You looked down into your tea. “I came to Ba Sing Se a few months ago. Can’t say I’ve enjoyed it much, but it’s not all that bad.”

It was silent for a bit. The longer the silence stretched on, the less and less you wanted to make eye contact again. This was incredibly awkward. You found this to be the perfect time to take a sip of your tea, hoping it would act as an excuse as to why you weren’t talking

“What’s your name?” you asked, looking up at him again. A soft smile graced your features, the slightest hint of curiosity stirring in your eyes. 

He took a moment to zone back in before speaking. “Lee. My uncle’s name is Mushi.”

You grinned, giving him yours. “It’s nice to meet you, Lee. Please give my compliments to your uncle, by the way. I’m sure you two get this a lot, but this tea is the best I’ve had in years.”

“Yeah, we do,” he said, rather bluntly at first. You were worried you might have annoyed him for a second, but instead, he smiled. “I’ll be sure to tell him that.”

Speaking of the man, Mushi was just beside the table, a plate of cakes in his hand. 

“Tell me what?” he asked, a smile 

You looked over at his uncle, giving him a bright smile.

“Just how delicious this tea is,” you mused. “I think it might genuinely be the best in Ba Sing Se.”

“Well,” Mushi beamed, placing the plate on the table. “The secret ingredient is love.” He sent a knowing look to Lee, who scrunched up his face at his uncle’s comments. Mushi chuckled, walking to another table to check on one of the customers. Lee sighed, whether in exasperation or relief you couldn’t tell He looked towards you again.

“I probably need to get back to work.”

You nodded. “I understand. Thank you for the tea.”

Lee turned away, going to the back of the shop to clear some tables. Your eyes followed him along the way. You hoped you left the right impression. He didn’t seem to be completely annoyed by you and you were sure his uncle liked you. That’s a start. 

You let your thoughts drift away, still looking over at him, only to snap back when he looked up at you and made eye contact. . His cheeks became just the faintest shade of pink, and he immediately looked back down. You did the same, your cheeks becoming warm as you smiled. That blush had to mean something good.

For a moment, things in the tea shop were peaceful. You were enjoying yourself, feeling confident in what you chose to spend your bonus on. Lee had a subtle smile on his face, clearing off a now empty table. Mushi was chatting up the customers, discussing tea and using his charm up on the locals. Everything was fine, at least as fine as it could be.

And then the door slammed open.

“I’m tired of waiting!” 

All eyes in the room were now locked on the newcomer, the one who shouted; he was another boy your age, but he seemed to be the polar opposite to Lee. His skin was darker and much more tan, with his hair long and scruffy. He didn’t seem happy to be there. He lifted his hand, pointing all the way to the back of the shop at Lee and Mushi, who both looked very confused.

“These two men are firebenders!”

The stranger unsheathed two swords from his sides, stepping forward in a fighting stance. You immediately stood up from your table, spilling the cup of tea over, and cowered into the wall, wanting to keep a safe distance between you and the boy. The other patrons stood as well. In the other corner of the room, a man held his arms up in front of his date, guarding her just in case anything went south. Two men that had been visiting were now looking at the man with wide eyes and worried faces. 

The air around you became tense, fear and confusion clouding your head. Your eyes went back to the men in question. They both looked at each other; they both looked just as confused, their eyes raised in shock. Did they even know this man?

Your left hand drifted to your side, wondering if you had remembered to bring a dagger with you. Unfortunately, like almost every day, you had forgotten. If you made it out of this unscathed, you’d never make that mistake again.

All was silent. Everyone was probably thinking the same things you were. Who was this man? Why did he think Lee and Mushi were firebenders? How am I going to leave if he’s blocking the only exit? Your attention was locked on him, waiting to see what his next move was. 

The stranger at the door began to speak again.

“I know they’re firebenders! I saw the old man heating his tea!”

Your brow quirked slightly at that. This was a tea shop. Of course he would be heating some tea.

Apparently you weren’t the only one that thought this, as one of the guards responded making the same point.

The boy looked at the guard. “He’s a firebender, I’m telling you!”

His swords swung up fast, causing you to flinch slightly. The room was getting nervous, and the two guards at the table stood.

“Put your swords down, boy. Nice and easy.”

The man ignored them, turning back to Lee and Mushi, holding up his swords in an “X” shape. He slowly began to approach, speaking with a shake in his voice. “You’ll have to defend yourselves… then everyone will know.”

You weren’t liking the way this was going. The guards didn’t cause the boy to back down at all, only seeming to provoke him even further. 

It occurred to you that you could just leave now. He was no longer blocking the door, and it wouldn’t take much effort to just slip away into the night. But you couldn’t. You weren’t sure why, but you couldn’t. Maybe you were curious to see how it all played out. Maybe you were just too scared to try and make a move like that yet. Maybe you were just worried about everyone else’s safety.

You couldn’t tell and it wasn’t that important anyways. You weren’t going anywhere.

“Go ahead,” the boy with swords began to taunt, looking directly at the two of them. “Show them what you can do.”

It was a dare. A jab at their pride. You could tell by the mocking tone that laced the boy’s words. He was confident they were going to use their bending, so confident that it bordered on cocky. By now, he had gotten so close to the two, that the guard began to unsheathe his own swords. Things were going to get ugly. Maybe now was a good time to reconsider that running option. 

You heard other footsteps, your train of thought breaking as you realized Lee was stepping forward, a glare on his face.

“You want a show?” he asked, unsheathing the guard’s swords for himself. “I’ll give you a show!”

He pulled the swords apart from each other, entering a fighting stance that didn’t look like anything a tea shop worker would know. His leg stuck out to the side, hooking on the leg of a table and pulling it in front of him. He kicked it, sending it flying towards the stranger. 

The stranger didn’t hesitate, flipping over it and slicing it so hard that the table sliced in half, with stray pieces of wood flying across the room. You felt a chunk of wood smack you in the face, slicing your cheek as you winced. You cupped it, feeling blood begin to warm your fingers as it dripped from the cut. 

The clashing of swords diverted your attention back to the fight. Lee expertly avoided the boy’s attack, jumping onto the table previously occupied by the guards. Before he could counter his next move, though, the boy sliced through that table too, the wood once again cutting perfectly in half. Lee stumbled, the boy cutting away at each side even more, aiming at his legs. Lee jumped expertly in the air, dodging the boy’s attacks.

You had made very few assumptions about Lee and already felt you had severely underestimated him.

In a quick blur of a moment, the boy had somehow managed to kick Lee back so hard that it broke down the door. You and the rest of the people inside the tea shop rushed to the front, trying to see how things were escalating. Mushi was at the door, most likely worried about the safety of his nephew as the fight stretched on.

The stranger was gaining a slight upper hand, taking advantage of Lee’s disoriented state after having smashed through the door. He swung down at him, his hooks being blocked last minute by Lee’s blades.

The stranger had a grin on his face. “You must be getting tired of using those swords.” He tilted his head, continuing with, “why don’t you go ahead and firebend at me?”

Once again, he was trying to provoke some kind of action out of Lee, trying to exhaust his efforts so that he’d be theoretically forced to firebend at him. It was crazy.

The fight went on, Lee retaliating as best he could. Mushi called out, addressing the stranger, “Please, son, you’re confused! You don’t know what you’re doing!”

His pleas were ignored, the fight continuing with even more vigor. They backed down the street, getting closer and closer to a large square surrounding a well. Mushi began to walk out of the doorway, following the two men as they fought. The rest of the patrons weren’t far behind, some worrying for the safety of the two and others, such as the guards, keeping an eye out for when they’d need to intervene. Your eyes were still glued on Lee, your feet unconsciously moving you along towards him. The strange boy began to taunt Lee once more, this time bringing Mushi into the mix.

“Bet you wish he helped you out with a little fire blast right now!” 

He hooked one of his swords on the other, spinning and swinging the swords around like whips. Lee backed away, slamming one of his own swords through the handle of the stranger’s.

“You’re the one who needs help!” Lee yelled, pulling back his swords in a defensive position as the boy recovered, about the swing again. Lee was one step ahead, swinging at the young man’s neck. The young man threw his head back, the sword swiping just above his head, so quick and so clean that a blue streak sparked as it sliced the grass he held between his teeth.

The boy arched forward, flipping back and landing on the edge of the well. He called out to the crowd that had gathered to watch the fight progress.

“You see that? The Fire Nation is trying to silence me!” He looked around at the crowd, the people all staring up at him in confusion. He then turned back to Lee, his eyes narrowing into a glare. “It’ll never happen.”

He reached back and hooked his sword on the wooden bar, swinging back and jumping forward at Lee. 

You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. Neither Lee nor the stranger seemed tired out enough to give the other a good chance at victory, and nobody, not even the guards, was attempting to interfere. Your cheek was beginning to really bother you and you knew that if you didn’t get home soon, you’d most likely wake up late for work tomorrow.

“Mushi, is Lee going to be alright?” you asked, your hands holding your sides. Mushi looked back at you and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure my nephew will be alright.” He turned back to the fight, his smile faltering a bit. “It’s the other young man that I’m worried about. Lee is not one to back down easily.” 

You looked up at Lee again, watching him strategically block each attack made by the stranger. You huffed, beginning to back away, until you saw the crowd to begin to disperse.

“Drop your weapons!” a stern voice called out.

The Dai Li had finally made their appearance.

The boys slow down their fighting, backing away from each other. Neither of them took their eyes off the other, swords still held out defensively, just in case anything else escalated. The stranger spoke first.

“Arrest them!” he called out. “They’re firebenders.”

Mushi was quick to respond, his voice relaxed as he said, “this poor boy is confused. We’re just simple refugees.”

You looked one of the Dai Li agents in the eye and nodded, hoping it would help to have someone agree. Others apparently had the same idea, as the manager came to their defense as well.

“This young man wrecked my tea shop and assaulted my employees!” He pointed over at you, more specifically the cut on your cheek. “He even injured one of my customers!”

The guards that Lee got his swords from nodded. “It’s true, sir. We saw the whole thing. This crazy kid attacked the finest teamaker in the city.”

Mushi awed, blushing.

“That’s very sweet.”

The Dai Li agents walked up to the stranger, one on each side of him. 

“Come with us son.”

The boy gritted his teeth, quickly swinging the sword in his right hand behind him to strike the Dai Li, only for it to land right in the palm of one. The agent twisted his arm back, the other helping to restrain him with their gloves made of Earth. Once they were sure he was unable to break free, they began to drag him back, the crowd dispersing and revealing a detainment cart. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the young man. You hadn’t ever heard anything good about the Dai Li. People who were taken into their custody either never came back or never came back the same. It was why you wanted to avoid them as much as possible, as detainment rates were especially high among refugees, at least from what you had heard.

You watched as the boy looked around desperately. “You don’t understand, they’re Fire Nation! You have to believe me!”

The crowd and you could only watch in silence as he was pulled into the cart, the back doors shutting on him. By now, most of the crowd was dispersing, none paying any particular attention to the boy anymore. You squeezed your sides, frowning, wondering what would come of the boy. 

Mushi sighed, shaking his head and turning towards you. “Are you alright, Miss?

You glanced up, giving him a soft smile. “I’m fine, thank you. Do you remember how much my order was?”

“Please,” you heard behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see the manager of the tea shop there, smiling sympathetically. “The tea is free of charge. Consider it an apology for all of the ruckus.”

You shook your head, blushing slightly. “Thank you, that’s very kind, but tables are not cheap to replace.” You pulled out half of the cash you had brought that night and handed it to him with a smile. “If you need to replace any of your dishes, feel free to visit Miss Kang’s Pottery Shop. I can make sure you receive a discount.”

He nodded and wished you a good night, walking into the shop to inspect the damage. Mushi followed, leaving you by yourself. Well, not completely anyway.

You looked back at where Lee had been fighting, watching Lee hand back the swords to the guards he had taken them from.

“You’ve got some serious skill, son. You should consider applying to the police academy, you could seriously make a difference.”

Lee didn’t go as far as to smile, but he did nod and give a small thank you. The guards waved goodbye, and Lee began to walk back to the shop, his mind clearly somewhere else. You watched him come up to you, deciding to talk to him again.

“Are you alright? That fight was… pretty intense.”

He began to focus again, looking at you. “I’m alright, just a little worn out.”

You smiled, a wave of relief washing over you. “That’s good.”

He nodded. “Actually, you seem like you got more hurt than I did. Is that cut okay?”

You blushed, placing a hand over your cheek, feeling the dry blood that had stuck to your face. “Yeah. It stings a bit, but I’ve got some stuff at home that should help.”

“That’s… that’s good,” he said a bit awkwardly. You chuckled softly, walking over to his side so you could go inside with him. 

When you got inside, the manager and Mushi immediately stopped the two of you.

“Hold on you two,” the manager began. 

“Young lady, considering all of the ruckus that has taken place tonight, I was wondering if you’d mind letting Lee escort you home,” Mushi asked, a considerate look on his face.

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping slightly as you began to blush. You didn’t want to force Lee into any kind of position like that, especially since you had literally met less than an hour ago.

“W-well I… I’m not sure if that would be necessary, sir, especially since you might need Lee to help clean up the shop,” you stammered, looking over at Lee who was equally confused and uncertain about this.

“No, no, I insist. Lee would have no problem walking such a kind girl to her home, especially after the night being so inconveniencing for you.”

You literally got scratched on the face, why was everyone acting like you had lost a limb?

A pink flush came over Lee’s face, his eyes looking anywhere but you as the manager and Mushi began to corner you both to the door.

“Please be careful, but be sure to take your time! The night is beautiful, no need to waste it!” 

And with that, you both were shoved onto the path outside of the shop, the once busy street now completely empty except for the two of you. Your face was hot and red, unable to look up from your feet below you. Lee was looking to the side, from what you could tell, and you had no idea what he was thinking. He was probably annoyed, angry even that he was now stuck with you. First, the crazy kid accused him of being a fire bender of all things and now his uncle and boss were making him babysit you.

He wasn’t looking at you, and he wasn’t moving either. Maybe you could just book it, give him an excuse to go back in and never go to the shop again. Maybe you could just disappear and he wouldn’t make you out to be a burden. Maybe you could just apologize and leave, then go home and forget this whole night had never happened. Perhaps that would be best.

A sigh leaving your companion’s lips quickly made that decision for you, though.

“So… where do you live?” 

~

It had gotten really late. Most of the city was already asleep, with their lights off and windows shut. If it weren’t for the stars that hung up above, you probably wouldn't be able to see the path in front of you. You and Lee had been walking for quite some time now, not a word passing between the two of you. You took a breath, deciding that it was time you said something.

“You were very impressive in that fight back there.”

His eyes widened a bit as he looked over at you, probably surprised you had said something.

“Oh, um… thanks.”

“Where did you learn to do all of that?” 

He shrugged. 

“I’ve picked up a few things from my uncle.”

You smiled.

“Was he a guard where you used to live?”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes lost in thought. 

“Sort of.”

You looked back down at the ground, not knowing where to take the conversation from there.

You sighed, your cheerful demeanor sinking. You stopped walking, holding your forehead with your hand and taking in a deep breath. Lee took a few more steps before he realized you had stopped. He turned towards you, his brow furrowing in confusion.

You looked up at him with tired eyes and began to speak. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be bothering you so much. I haven’t had anyone to talk to for a while now, I guess I just got a bit ahead of myself.”

He took a minute to think before responding. “Do you not live with anyone?”

You shook your head, frowning slightly. “No. My family sent me away from our village by myself. It was urgent and they didn’t have enough money for all of us to come to Ba Sing Se.”

You blinked, looking at the path in front of you with a blank stare.

“I haven’t heard from them in months. I don’t even know if they’re still alive.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep, painful breath, beginning to walk again.

“Thank you for walking me this far. I can get home just fine from here.”

It was a moment before you heard his footsteps begin to pick up again behind you. Your face contorted into one of confusion, as suddenly Lee was by your side again. You opened your mouth to speak again, about to insist that he didn’t need to walk with you, but he beat you to it.

“I’m sorry,” he began, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not very good with people.”

You hummed, a small smile returning to your lips.

“It’s alright. I’m not exactly a people person, either. I shouldn’t have been so pushy with you in the first place.”

“You weren’t that pushy. At least compared to some people I’ve met.”

You chuckled, feeling a little less nervous being around him.

“Thank you. I’m glad I don’t come across that way,” you mused.

He nodded, and for the next few minutes, you both walked together in silence, with you guiding him down the paths you needed to take home and him being vigilant for any crooks that might’ve been hiding out somewhere. After a while, he brought up conversation again.

“How old are you, exactly?”

You shrugged. “I’m about fifteen. You?”

“Sixteen.”

“You look like you’d be older,” you said, though it came out the wrong way you meant it to. “Not in, like, a bad way, though! Like you just seem more mature, I guess.”

“Um, yeah, I could say the same about you.”

Right, you still looked exhausted. You sighed, reaching up to rub the back of your neck.

“Yeah, I don’t exactly look all that youthful right now. I haven’t slept much lately and work has just been really difficult.

His eyes widened as he began to stammer. “No, not like I think you look old or anything, you look plenty young! It’s just, you look like you could be sixteen or seventeen.”

You gave him a thankful smile, though it wasn’t all that genuine. “Thank you, but I’d have to disagree.”

He looked away from you, unsure of what to say next. You didn’t quite know what to say either, so you changed the subject.

“Hey, I’m sorry if this question bothers you, but did you know that young man that attacked you in the tea shop?”

“Why do you ask?”

You shrugged, feeling a bit stupid for asking. “Well, I don’t know. He just seemed to have recognized you from somewhere else.”

Lee sighed, fiddling with the string on his apron absentmindedly.

“Yeah. We came to Ba Sing Se on the same ferry. He told me about how the Fire Nation killed his parents and such. Then he saw my uncle buy a cup of tea from a vendor and I guess he just thought he firebended somehow.”

You frowned, feeling just a little bit bad about what happened to the boy.

“No wonder he was so dead set on attacking you. He’s probably traumatized.”

He huffed. “Yeah. Probably.”

Your mind kept going back to the young man being dragged back and thrown into the cart with the Dai Li, a knot beginning to form in your stomach. It didn’t seem like Lee knew the gravity of being put into the custody of the Dai Li and just how terrifying of a sentiment it was to you.

“I don’t take it you know much about the Dai Li, do you?” you asked, cautiously, as if anybody could be listening to you right now, as they actually very well could.

He looked over at you with narrowed eyes.

“My uncle has told me enough that I know not to mention the war, but other than that, I can’t say I do.”

You sighed, looking around you for any places someone could be hiding or listening.

“Whenever someone is taken by the Dai Li, they either don’t come back or they don’t come back the same. There have been cases where men who were in the Dai Li’s possession were released with no idea who their own families were. It’s really unsettling and it’s one of those things I hate about being a refugee here.”

He nodded. “I can see why. I don’t understand what the Earth Kingdom would have to gain from banning the mention of the war, though.”

“Neither do I, but it happens nonetheless.”

The conversation could’ve gone on for hours at that point, but by now, you had finally reached your quaint, little apartment. You stopped at the door and turned to him fully, folding your hands together and smiling. 

“Well,” you said quietly, looking up at him with tired eyes. “Thank you for walking me home, Lee. It was really nice meeting you.”

He nodded. “It was nice meeting you, too. I’m sorry I didn’t give the best first impression.”

You giggled quietly, shaking your head. “It’s okay. I’m definitely going to be visiting the tea shop again soon, so I wouldn’t say you left a horrible impression on me.”

“I’m sure my uncle will be happy to hear that.”

you smiled, taking your key out of your pocket and unlocking your door. Lee took that as his cue to leave, turning away from you and beginning to walk down the road you both took. You opened your door just a little bit, glancing over your shoulder back at Lee. You puffed your cheeks out a bit as you left the door ajar, walking over to him and calling out his name.

He turned back to face you, his face blushing a soft pink when he realized how close you were. With that, you planted a soft kiss on his cheek, whispering a meek “goodbye” before running back into your house.

You slammed the door, your face hot and bright red as butterflies soared around your chest. You groaned, sliding down the door and hiding your face in your hands. You couldn’t tell if you felt more euphoric or embarrassed. Whatever, it didn’t matter right now. You’d leave the shame and embarrassment to your future self, as right now, you were exhausted and needed to go to bed.

What a way to end the day.

[azulirawrites]

Favors of A. Blight ch. 4

Rating: T Word Count: 2,309 Contains: Paranoia, Verbal Abuse, Abandonment Issues

Alador had never been a great planner, not even when it came to his Abominations. He preferred to think of himself as a tinkerer; he knew his end goal, and he knew where to start, everything else was just details he could figure out along the way. It was part of why Blight Industries was second-to-none. The designs couldn’t be stolen until the Abominations had actually been produced, because they didn’t exist until the very last second, and the only people capable of replicating the Abominations without Alador’s assistance were shareholders in BI anyway. And even then, they’d have a difficult time without Alador’s notes.

However, Alador could name a number of times where his inability with planning served more as a detriment. Like right now, for instance. His feet thudded against the still warm mud, and he felt the exhaustion in his bones as he conjured the energy for another spell, wiping away traces of his passing for this portion of his journey. He had no idea where he was going, or even where he was. When he’d left, over half a day ago judging by the first faint traces of sunrise in the distance, he’d been heading towards the Elbow. 

If he’d gone by cart or staff, he’d have been by now. But if he had gone by cart, there was no way he could have avoided being tracked. Not without hurting, and possibly killing, people. He wasn’t a murder. “Aren’t you?” he tried to ignore the intrusive thought, whispered to him with the faintest touch of Odalia’s voice. 

Then there was his staff. He fiddled with the zipper hidden in the interior of his work jacket. It hadn’t been unzipped in a long time, and it had been even longer since he last laid his hands on his staff. Would Pige even recognize him, after all these years? If she did, would she be able to forgive him, for locking her away to gather dust in a bag of holding? For abandoning her? Lily had, but… that was different. The bond between a palisman and a witch was supposed to be something unbreakable. And if it was broken… well, Alador had seen his fair share of Odalia’s palismans. The ones that escaped with cracks and breaks were the lucky ones.

So no, his staff wasn’t an option. He couldn’t afford to lose Pige now. That left his feet. Heading towards the elbow, with no idea what to do afterwards. Probably head towards the shoulder, and then… the skull, maybe? It was largely untamed, due to the difficulty of crossing the mouth… Which would also present him his own challenge. 

He couldn't walk much longer, he knew. The only thing keeping him going was the momentum of it; if he stopped, he would collapse where he stood. Then he saw the shack, alone amongst the trees, with a wild garden creeping around and, in a number of places, on it.

Alador made his way into the dusty abode, the door creaking as it opened before him. He coughed, and dust swirled in the air. He took in the room. It was bare, save a coffee table, an armchair, and a rather large couch. He almost cried seeing the couch, and collapsed upon it. Exhaustion took him immediately.

He awoke with a start, to the sound of someone drinking something. Someone lived in all this dust? "Of course not. Don't be stupid, dear," Odalia's voice answered his private thoughts. His body froze. "At this point it might set a record."

"You're dead!" He wanted to shout, but it came out as a whisper. 

"And yet, here I am" Odalia's voice commented, and he could hear her take a slow drink. "What makes you think I'd be dead?"

"You couldn't have survived…" his own voice felt distant. Barely there.

"Survived what, dear?" Odalia's voice was strong; firm, yet calm. 

"I killed you."

"No, you didn't, Alador," she denied, and he felt her cold hand reach out and take his. He shuddered as she squeezed. "You made an Abomination do it, and ran away. Nearly thirty years, and you didn't even stay to watch the light leave my eyes."

"Shut up," he tried to command her voice; she couldn't be here, he had to be hallucinating. 

"Honestly Alador, could you at least act a little more mature? You tried to have an Abomination murder me, and I'm still able to hold a civil conversation."

"How are you here?"

"Because you failed, Alador. Like always."

"I'm not a failure!"

"Yes you are! You've been a failure since you were a child! When was the last time you even contributed to anything successful?"

"The company-"

"Yes, your father's company, that he made successful with his own Abominations. His success earned him his spot as the first head of the Abomination coven. Then, he passed it down to you, and I made sure it didn't crash and burn while you… tinkered."

"My Abominations-"

"Are certainly unique, I'll give you that. But successful? Please Alador, we both know that for every one that works there are at least seven failures."

"I-"

"Don't speak. I've proven my point," Alador felt his jaw reluctantly clinch with Odalia's command. "Honestly, Alador, why do you always insist on fighting what you know is right?"

"You're wrong," his voice came out quiet, and weak.

"Am I?" He felt the cold spread from his hand up his arm, seizing his throat. 

"I'm not worthless," he said, trying to squeeze her hand hard enough to hurt. She gave no reaction. 

"I never said you were worthless, Alador," she said, affecting a soothing tone, "You're worth quite a fortune, and you were able to sire one good heir. Although she did inherit your rebellious streak. But I can smooth that out. No, Alador, what you are is pathetic."

He felt the chill settle on his heart, as tears began to well in his still closed eyes, "No."

"Yes, Alador. You've always been pathetic. Even when you were a child, and you wanted to settle for Lilith."

"Shut up!" He shouted, but found himself unable to rip his hand from her grip, or move at all. 

"The second-best child of a second-rate family. But honestly, if it weren't for your money, even she would have been out of your league. "

"Shut up!" A sharp blow came across his cheek, and a chill spread out from the impact. She'd slapped him?

"You will not speak back to me like that Alador!" Odalia's voice… changed, somehow. Even in her fury her voice was icy, cold enough to burn. "I've spent every moment of our marriage taking care of you, even when you began cheating on me and drinking that horrid memory potion, and this has been my repayment? Leaving the job of murdering me to one of your little toys, sending our children off to be under the care of criminals, and this ungrateful attitude when all I've tried to do is remind you of your place?"

"How do you know about the children?" Alador asked. She wouldn't have had time to check on them if she had followed him, and there was more that didn't add up, "And you couldn't know about the memory potion… and I made sure to wipe my tracks."

He could feel the ghost of her lips near his ear as she whispered to him, "I know everything about you, dear. You can't escape."

Alador shot upwards in a cold sweat, the blankets pooling at his hips. There hadn't been blankets when he'd passed out… Had Odalia really been here? He looked around, and noticed a surprising lack of disturbance in the dust, save what he knew himself to be responsible for. "How?"

"Are you awake this time?" A voice called from above him. Turning his head towards the voice, he saw a fox, upside down on the ceiling.

"Uhm… yes?"

"Good. You're quite noisy in your sleep. I hoped the blankets might help calm you, but they didn't."

"Oh… my apologies… I didn't realize this home was occupied," Alador pulled the blankets to the side, and sat up, preparing to leave.

"It's not," the fox said quickly, "and I don't mind if you stay. I'll just need to close my ears." Alador took a moment to process everything as his brain shook off the last remnants of his terrifying rest. The fox was carved from wood, but moved naturally, and was now making its way down the side of the wall, one paw always on the wood. Was it a house demon? But it was so different from the Owl House's house demon? Perhaps, if Alador were lucky, Hooty was unique. 

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't stay. I'm making my way to the Skull."

"Oh," the house demon's body slumped, "Is that far?"

"Oh, uhm," something about the question threw Alador, "I'm not sure. I've never made the journey on foot. Maybe a week?"

"That seems a long way, why are you going so far?" the fox questioned, and Alador froze up. How was he meant to answer this? Any answer he could give would only bring more questions that he was even less ready to answer. 

"I don't believe I owe you an answer," he decided to avoid the question.

"You barged into me and passed out, and now you're trying to abandon me! An answer is the least of what I'm owed." Alador took a moment to process the demon's words, as he stared down at it. It looked up at him, clearly upset.

"Abandon you?" He asked,and the fox almost winced, withdrawing into itself.

"Well," the fox stuttered, "I just thought that, with how you came in and passed out, that maybe you'd stay..."

Alador carefully thought out his answer, finally responding "You might be right, about me. I guess it is kind of like me abandoning you. I've… done a lot of that this past day."

"You don't have to," the fox offered, "you can stay."

"I can't," Alador denied, "I'm a wild witch. You'll end up hurt if I'm found."

"Then don't be found!" The fox exclaimed desperately, "I don't think wild witches are bad, if that's what you're worried about. My old occupant was a wild witch!" That… explained a lot, when Alador thought about it. Including why the house was likely abandoned.

"I can't," Alador said, stepping towards the door. "I'm not strong enough to stay." 

"You don't have to be!" The fox said, "Please, stay!"

"I'll make you a promise," Alador offered, "when I can come back, I will."

"Daphne said the same thing," the house demon muttered, looking away. After a moment, the fox offered its paw, "Make an Everlasting Oath."

Alador, hesitantly, drew the energy up for the Oath, taking the fox's paw. "When I can, when I have the strength to, I will come back." The oath sealed itself. Alador made his way to the door. 

"My name is Vul," the house demon called out to him, "when you come back, you can call me Vul."

(Line break)

Luz ascended the stairs quietly, listening for any sounds from the Blights. However, even as she stood in front of the door to her room, she heard nothing. Carefully, she pushed open the door, letting out a breath when she saw all three Blights, sitting quietly in a circle. Piled on the floor between were their scrolls, and even from here Luz could see the massive amount of notifications. News travelled fast. On the Boiling Isles apparently. 

"Hey," she gently called out, to no reaction from the seemingly-numb Blights. After a moment of the awkward, somber silence, she continued, “I wanted to come check on you guys. Are you ok?” Quickly, she continued, “Sorry, that’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not ok, given everything going on. I’m sorry, I’ll leave-” 

“Stay,” Amity said, softly, just as Luz was about to cross the threshold out of the room, “Please.”

“Alright,” Luz agreed, moving towards Amity. She sat down gently, joining the Blights in their silence. She found Amity's hand, and gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. Amity squeezed back, tight, and didn't let go, as if making sure Luz was really there.

It was Emira who broke the silence, "What happens now?" 

The squeeze from Amity's hand tightened for just a second, before Amity spoke, "I don't know."

"We wait for Dad, right?" Ed suggested, "Miss Lilith said they didn't find him, so he's probably out there, right?"

"Ed…" Emira quietly said

"No!" He almost shouted, "They probably need Dad, because he's really powerful with Abominations, or they want the money and need one of our parents, and Dad was the smarter choice. So he's alive."

"Ed's right," Amity agreed, "If he wasn't found, there's no reason to believe he's dead." An uncomfortable silence descended, as Amity spoke the fact they'd been avoiding. Eventually the silence was broken, by a crow pecking at the window. 

"Dear Emira, Edric, and Amity Blight," a voice Luz didn't recognize called out, "As assistant to the leader of the Oracle Coven, I wish to inform you that the coven will be taking the burden of making funeral arrangements for your mother. Currently, the funeral is scheduled for tomorrow, Sunday the Eleventh, at three p.m. If this time is inconvenient, please respond with a time better suited. If not, we will see you tomorrow at the coven's temple in Bonesborough." The crow then closed its beak, almost entirely motionless as it perched on the windowsill.

"Wow, that seems quick," Luz commented, "In the human realm it's like three days to a week." When none of the Blight children responded, Luz added, "Sorry. I probably should have kept that thought to myself."

"It's alright," Amity says lightly, squeezing Luz's hand for comfort. 

[nebula-jazz]

Fictober prompt 28

ROTTMNT Donatello x reader

Note: Sorry I have been gone for so long! I have been wrapped up in school and I also know that this isn't my normal fandom... This is completely self indulgent because he popped on my feed on youtube and he was my first comfort character. And now I found ROTTMNT and I got hit in the face by my best friend on exactly my type... Intelligent, gremlin, cocky, and emotionally unavailable... So this is a complete callout to everyone who has the same type no matter the gender and please enjoy this drabble. And fully expect on several different fandom releases on Halloween including a oneshot for His World. But enough of my rambling! To the story!

You had been in quarantine for nearly an entire year and now your favorite month had been ruined by the hussle and the bustle of your closest aunt asking you to come to New York. Her explanation was that she was taken ill and she needed someone to look after the house and your youngest cousin April O’Neil, much to your distaste.

It was not that you hated your youngest cousin, opposite in fact you adored her, but you two never exactly saw eye to eye on most things. You two were so close up until about five or six years ago and then she changed and you felt as if for the worst. This change caused you both to drift apart.

Since she was your only friend and family member that got you; this distance caused you swirling into an unhealthy mind set. And you got caught up with the wrong people at the worst time in your life as your younger brother disappeared and your mom got distant.

Which lead you here, packing all research that you had gathered over the past few months since the shredder accident, your Bo staff, and other essential items. Taking the time to slide the delicate frames of your glasses up every few minutes. Your boss Baxter had called you a few minutes ago saying that he set you up an apartment and a plane to New York and expected you be ready for training with Rocksteady as soon as you landed. Thinking about it made you flinch.

Grabbing the metal case with your research, your duffel with clothes and toiletries, and your backpack filled with snacks your Bo and training clothes you headed down stairs. You kissed your mom on the head who was on the phone at the couch; gently leaving a large stack of cash that should last her awhile. You slipped out the front door and slid into a sleek car that Baxter had sent for you.

During the car ride you stayed silent, typing away at your computer, jotting down the breakthrew that you had made. Your specific specialty in his company was the idea of spirits and how to harness them, extract them, and even switch with them. Baxter had found out about you and what people and even yourself, at the time, believed as a silly project about four years ago. You had proven that spirits were real and that there was a possibility to do something with them.

He accelerated you through highschool and college, easily making you apart of a team and gave you everything that you needed for your research. You honestly didn’t care what he would do with it as soon as you had perfected everything in your now extensive project. All you cared about was getting your mom and brother back and he promised to keep the investigation open if you handed all research over to him as soon as you were done.

You barely slept on the plane. Fear creeping up your spine and turned your veins icey as you mulled over what was waiting for you when you landed. The training with Rocksteady was not normal. As he was a huge hog and the training was to get you faster, but it would inevitably end with a concussion and a broken bone as it normally would. Then Baxter would inject you with some green liquid that, yes would accelerate the healing process and you would no longer have any broken bones, but it would feel like your entire body was on fire and your back feeling like it was being ripped to shreds.

You eventually drifted into a fitful sleep. You felt like you had barely closed your eyes before you were woken up by the gentle but cold hand of Baxter. You were in a car now just outside of headquarters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh MAh Gawd! Y/N! What happened to you?!” You winced at the worried yell that came from April. You had just gotten released from the lab and your head was pounding from the lack of food and water.

“Just a little scuffle just outside the office. Don’t worry about it.” You croaked out and offered a, what you hoped to be, a reassuring smile. You tried to swallow against the sandpapery walls of your throat.

You felt her soft but calloused hands cup your face as she looked at you. You winced as she prodded at the dark bruises on your jaw and forehead. She lead you to the kitchen where she started to clean the bruises and cuts up.

After several cups of water and an entire pizza, which you had devoured, she was now questioning you.

“So you are working for Baxter?” she asked, you gave her a quizzical look as you swallowed another bite of the second pizza that she had ordered. You had heard the slight tremor of fear in her voice and now it set you on edge.

“Yeah..” You answered slowly and pulled out your laptop. “He is funding my research. Take a look.”

You pushed the computer over and let her skim through the many pages of work as you dumbed down what she was reading.

“So... what you are saying is that you could put someone in a comatose state and do whatever you wanted to them but at the same time you can still talk to them in a spiritual state?” she summarized. With a soft smile you nodded, your eyes heavy from the long two days you had.

“However there are some side effects. With the trials that I ran at home it is extremely difficult to put them back in and more often than not their mind can completely erase one or multiple people from their memory. They will always remember the time they were, what I call, Ghost. There are still kinks in it but i'm pretty sure in this state there is a possibility to redirect this targeted amnesia to get rid of trauma.” You said excitedly.

She gave you a terrified look and excused herself and ran out the front door into the dim light of the dawn. You felt like you had been punched in the gut. Tears formed in your eyes and you fought down the urge to sob and throw up your food. You slammed the computer closed and stormed into the guest bedroom. You had honestly thought that she was going to be proud of you. She seemed genuinely excited about your research. But it was April, you shouldn’t have expected anything less from her.

A few weeks drifted by lazily and October was slipping through your fingertips. April was avoiding you, especially after you caught her in the act of trying to steal your laptop. So today, as a way to get away from the dreariness of the apartment and the fearful glances of April you were in the lab. You were in a loose hoodie and had a stack of pizza boxes next to you along with a large jug of water on your other side. You had just gotten done with another training session and were now working on a new test. it had gotten dark out and Rocksteady had volunteered for the new test.

You scraped your hand roughly through your hair in frustration as the program refused to start for the third time. You huffed in frustration, and looked up in alarm as the security alarms started to go off. You heard an explosion from behind you. Reaching down and grabbing your Bo you didn’t notice the jug being knocked over causing the computer to go haywire. You panicked as you tried to shut down the computer and the large machine pointed at whatever caused the explosion.

However you were too late to stop it from going off once you were able to press the emergency shut off just in time to prevent it from happening again. You heard a shout and roars from Rocksteady. you tried to reach for your more enhanced staff but were swiftly knocked out. All you saw as the world started to darken was green and a ghostly purple figure.

~~~~~~~~

That was a couple of days ago. You were now with 6 foot tall turtle ninjas. They had explained, with the help of April, what Baxter was going to do with your research. The person that you had shot was their brother Donatello. The genus out of the group who was allowing you to use his lab as you tried desperately to keep his body stable and fix his state with what little tools you had.

Your own paranoia had shot through the roof as any fast movement caused you to flinch very heavily. You and Donnie had found out that Baxter was injecting you with mutagen after a nightmare filled night caused wings to sprout from your back.

You stayed away from the other three turtles and only finding solace with Donatello. You both could ramble on and on about different projects you both were working on and the other would listen intently.

You hadn’t noticed how comfortable or how hard you had fallen until you reached the end stages of completing the ray that would make him right.

Neither of you two had noticed that you had started to flirt with each other. But everyone else knew and were eagerly waiting for him to return to normal. They were excited to see him finally kiss you and actually take you out on that date that he had been teasing you for a month with. April was happy to see you smiling again.

You didn’t realize how much you loved him or he you until you both were going over some of your note s to make sure everything was in order.

It was the end of November, just before thanksgiving. Donnie was excitedly telling you that he had been working on a surprise for you with Shelldon. That he wanted to give it you in person. And that he was excited to finally eat something instead of just watching everyone else eat. He was also rambling on how he was totally going to spar with you.

“i'm excited to finally get an infamous hug from you Don!” You chuckled barely paying attention to the notes and more on him. He laughed and he floated closer to you.

“I’m excited to give you one Angel.” he said cheekily. You glared lightly at him and the nickname that he gave you after your wings came to be.

You however stopped in your tracks as you read the small but major detail that you had mentioned to April all those weeks ago. The air ran from your lungs as a soft. “Oh.” escaped your lips.

“What?” he asked worried. He turned to the computer that had your notes on it and read through it and his face dropped. Tears welled in your eyes and the amount of hurt that ran through you was like that day that April ran.

And something inside of you knew, even as Donnie tried to think of anyone, anyone at all that he could possible forget, you knew it was going to be you. You stared at him tears running down your face and it was then you realized how hard you had fallen. And how much you will lose.

Two days before Thanksgiving was the day that was planned to fix him. You were in a room alone with his Ghost. You couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Here,” he said softly, and gestured for Shelldon to bring a small box forward. “This is for you... don’t open it until my eyes do.. ok?” He said leaning down and trying to catch your eye. You looked up at him, willing the tears back and smiled brightly.

“Will do Don! I will see you for that hug ok?” he smiles back softly and nods. He hovers his hand over your cheek, you lean into it until you feel the cool radiating off of him and you closed your eyes.

That unspoken ‘i love you’ rang through you head as you heard the machine wurr to life. You only stare at him as he floats by his sleeping body and you pray, you hope, and you plead to whatever god is listening. To allow you to have him, to allow him to remember you. As you slowly nod your head and you hear April press the button.

~~~~~~~

You try to stifle the sobs in your throat as you hear him and his brothers enjoy their thanksgiving meal that April and you had prepared for them. He didn’t recognize you as you sobbed in happiness when you saw his eyes open. He thought of you as a threat.

You carefully pulled out the small box as Shelldon floated beside you. You looked at him and he bobbed his head in acknowledgement. Slowly opening it you tried to steady your shaking hands. Inside was a locket, a bit larger than one you would find in a jewelry store. You carefully opened the locket and you saw a picture that you had taken with ghost Donnie and the music box version of your both favorite techno song. Engraved on the other half was the french translation of I love you. A loud sob ripped its way from your throat as you clutched it to your chest. 

Donnie was leaning against the wall closest to where you had ran off too. He was watching his brothers laugh and eat with their father and April. He had heard sniffling from the tunnel and quietly escaped the celebration to see where it had came from. He was surprised to see you covering your mouth and Shelldon with you. He was going to call to his creation until you had looked at Shelldon and pulled out a velvet box.

He waited a moment, watching you open it and something inside. He had to nod his head to the song that played. He did not expect the loud sob or the wail that came out of you next. He heard his brothers stop laughing and heard a soft.

“They opened it...”

“Yeah...”

“Poor Y/N... I can’t imagine.”

“Why can’t we tell him my sons?’

“Because he wouldn’t believe us.”

“Yeah! And he already distrusts Y/N... and they asked us not too.”

“A broken heart is something that can kill my children. Especially with a love that deep.”

Donnie didn’t hear anymore from his family. And confusion seeped into him. What happened while he was out?

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Breathe ~ Doctor (part 4)

A/n: I will get to requests soon, I promise. I just want to get to Donna in this series, because I have PLANS it’s going to be great.

Word Count: 11,000+

MASTERLIST

"Shit!"

"Language please, we are still in a school." Y/n turned around to see the principle that still made him feel so incredibly uncomfortable to be around, and tried once again not to look as terrified of the man as he felt.

"Right sir, sorry." Y/n offered a small smile and the other man continued on his way. What a relief.

He was still wrapping his finger as he walked into the cafeteria. He had cut it on accident, and though it was small it was in such a place that it had bled quite a lot before finally calming down enough so he could plaster it. He got his food, passing Rose who was working as a lunch lady, and the two shared a look. Rose's was irritated, and Y/n's was amused. Next Y/n looked around the room to find the Doctor, making his way over to sit across. "How was Physics?" Y/n asked.

The Doctor's eyes fell to Y/n's finger. "How was mechanics?"

Y/n had applied for the mechanic job, same as Rose had gone for lunch lady and the Doctor had aimed for teacher. They'd all gotten it. Mickey and the Doctor had taught Y/n enough about how to fix things that mixed with that and his impressive ability to pick up on simple things pretty easily, he was actually quite good. Only two days in, even the weird staff members that gave Y/n the same vibe as the principal did called Y/n when they needed help with something, instead of the janitor like they had for years.

"You know there's more this gig than just tightening screws and helping the English teacher figure out how computers work. Mr. Bele, the janitor, has actually been teaching me some plumbing stuff. I think I'm properly working." He was rather proud, and it made the Doctor smile. Y/n caught movement in the corner of his eye and looked over to see Rose approaching. "Unlike some people."

She was at the table in a few seconds, pretending to wipe off the surface when she'd just passed four empty tables who needed it far more than this one did. Y/n held in a laugh for her sake - she seemed irritated. "Two day," she reminded. "We've been here for two days.

"Not everything is running from death and facing down mythical beasts," Y/n said casually. "Sometimes it's just scooping lunch and waiting for the right time."

Rose rolled her eyes. Unlike Y/n, the Doctor didn't seem hesitant to irritate her further as he motioned to a spot on the table with his plastic fork. "Sorry, could you just... there's a bit of gravy." She wiped at the wrong thing, and the Doctor pushed it even further. "No, no, just there." She glared a him and he grinned.

"Doctor." Despite her obvious irritation, she did find the right spot and wiped it up.

"Blame your boyfriend, he's the one who put us up to this," the Doctor reminded.

Y/n tried to hide his smile. The three of them were involved, that was obvious, but they hadn't ever made anything official or used labels. Since Rose was technically dating Mickey and hadn't officially broken up with him as well, the Doctor and Y/n had been teasing her about it occasionally. All in good fun, of course, but it still made her scoff every time.

"Have you seen anything to prove him right then?" Y/n asked, resting his chin in his palm as he popped a fry in his mouth.

"Yes actually. One of the kids in my class this morning, got know;edge way beyond planet Earth," the Doctor began.

"You eating those chips?" Rose asked.

Y/n rolled his eyes. "How can you think of food right now? There's a child with extraterrestrial knowledge, Rose."

The Doctor smiled at that, but allowed Rose to grab a few off of his plate anyway. Y/n smiled to himself at the way they so easily invaded each others' space. It wasn't a problem at all for them. "No worries," he dismissed. "I didn't want them anyway they're a bit... different."

"Oh but they're gorgeous." Her mouth was full but also curved in a smile and Y/n chuckled under his breath, shaking his head at her. God she was adorable. "I wish I'd had something like this in school."

A hum came from the Doctor. The kind that told them he wasn't fully paying attention. His mind was somewhere else. "It's quite well behaved, this place."

Y/n had noticed it too. "Yeah, every time I go into classes to fix something they all just sit there and... stare at me. It's not like they're threatening, just a bit unnerving. Just sitting there, patiently waiting for me to finish. I've heard stories about how kids use their phones and talk during lectures, let alone when there's nothing going on. I don't know Rose, is that the norm?"

She nodded, far used to Y/n asking questions about things that he should have experienced but never did. "Yeah one time the teacher needed help with something and two kids snogged in the back of the classroom the whole time. One kid used to throw pencils at the back of my head during class, until I moved seats."

"Yeah I thought they'd all be happy-slapping hoodies. Happy slapping hoodies with ASBO's," the Doctor input. "Happy slapping hoodies with ASBO's and ringtones, yeah?" He seemed quite proud of himself. "Don't tell me I don't fit in."

Before Rose could tease him, the head lunchlady approached, her eyes on the blonde at the table. "You are not to leave your station during a sit in."

Rose stood. "I was just talking to this teacher, and his mechanic friend."

"Hello," the Doctor greeted as Y/n smiled, nodding politely rather than voicing something. It was pretty reflective of how they usually worked, with Y/n tending to sit back and blend in and the Doctor sticking out like a sore thumb and grabbing all the attention. It wasn't a bad thing, just what was normal. The whole thing with the wold had been rare. A nice rarity though.

"This professor here says he doesn't like the chips," Rose added, shaking her head. It seemed to be some attempt at a joke to break the tension. Something the other woman could relate to maybe.

It fell short. If anything, she seemed offended. "The menu has been specifically designed by the headmaster to improve concentration and performance. Now get back to work." And with that, she turned around and left.

Y/n blew air out of his mouth, eyes wide as he looked back to Rose. "See?" She said to him, shaking her head. "This is me." She began to leave, walking backward so she could motion to her apron and uniform. "Dinner lady," she added with a grumble as she turned her back to the two men, heading back to the kitchen.

"I'll have the crumble," the Doctor shot back.

The last thing they heard from her was, "I'm so gonna kill you." Y/n covered his laugh, trying to stay third party to their banter as usual. Sometimes he had his fun as well, but he tended to be laid back enough to play peacekeeper more than anything.

The Doctor leaned into him, snagging his attention. "What?" Y/n asked upon seeing an odd look in the Doctor's eyes.

The Timelord just smiled. "What do you think it would have been like, this? School and such?"

Y/n scoffed. "Terrible, from what I hear. Especially for me." He messed with his food, distracting himself as he always did when he had to be vulnerable. He only ever did it for Rose and the Doctor, but it was still hard - even for them. "I think I have anxiety." A short, bitter laugh. "I've never really had to face it of course, with being as apart from society as a human who lives on Earth can be. It kept me alive and made me really functional, living on the streets as a child. I learned to steal pretty quickly, motivated by my hunger and constant paranoia that I'd get caught. I didn't trust anyone, not even those I probably should have. Kept me alive though, I bet. Something like that, in a place like this? No. I would have crumbled for sure. Wouldn't have been able to read aloud or say the answer when I was called on or been able to make any friends. I probably would have sat in the corner every day, in every class, and prayed I wouldn't get noticed." His smile dropped. "Kids like that... they struggle in school. People are mean."

The Doctor reached over and took Y/n's hand. "Well, I'm lucky. You've got some very good survival skills. That instinct of yours has saved my life more times than I can count, I'm sure."

"Nah." Y/n chuckled to himself. "You'd have been fine without me. Figured something out, I'm sure."

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed. "Thanks to you I didn't have to, though." He smiled. "Lots of people have you to thank for saving their lives as well, Y/n. If nothing else, you do well in this life."

That did cheer Y/n up actually. "I hope it'll always be that way. I'd hate to slow you down."

At that, the Doctor actually laughed. It was low and quiet, unlike his usual laugh, but far more domestic. Calm. It was a laugh that didn't need to be showy - it was good enough to be familiar. "If ever comes the day I'm not trying to keep up with you, then I'll start to worry."

Out of the corner of Y/n's eye, there was movement. He looked over to see some of the kids looking between the two men and their hands. Y/n suddenly got rather bashful, attempting to pull his hand away. The Doctor only held on tighter. "You know, we're in public," Y/n noted.

"Yep," the Doctor agreed.

"Showing affection," Y/n added, nodding to their hands.

"Indeed." The Doctor smiled and Y/n thought the man odd, in a pleasant way. The way he wasn't afraid to be himself was rather refreshing - especially when the plan had been to be polite and pleasant, but otherwise act as strangers.

Y/n spent the rest of lunch enjoying the moment. Word would spread, but these kids didn't seem the type to prod, even though children of this age should be at peak curiosity, yet to develop a social censor. The perfect disaster for pushy, nosey kids asking questions they probably shouldn't be. Not at this school though. For now, they could enjoy the exchange and that was enough.

Then lunch was over and it was back to business.

A little bit later, Y/n was pushing his cart down the hallway to go around his usual round to check if anything was out of place that hadn't been noticed - this was used most for normal schools where kids pulled pranks, but at this school he could use the guise to get information wherever he could - when he was stopped by the Principal, who had a woman at his side. "Ah yes, Mr. Doe," the older man greeted. "Miss Smith, this is our handyman. He help the janitor quite a bit - had some training in more things than cleaning and basic plumbing. Helps with the cooling and heating, and when machines break down or are hard to understand. Since when did things get so advanced, am I right?" He chuckled softly, but didn't get a response.

The other two were too busy staring at each other. "Sarah Jane," Y/n whispered, eyes wide.

Sara, though she knew for a fact that she couldn't know this man in front of her, felt that... maybe she did, actually. There was something familiar in his eyes, aside from the raw and obvious recognition that he looked at her with.

The principal seemed surprised. "You two know each other?"

"I-" Y/n panicked. If he said yes, Sara would surely be confused. But if he said no... well obviously that was a lie. How could he explain that he knew her, but she didn't know him? "We met briefly. I have a fantastic memory, when it comes to faces. Like a steal trap. I'm sure you don't remember me, but I dare say I could never forget a face as pretty as yours." It was probably odd to flirt with her as she was quite a bit older than he was, but he couldn't help it. He had someone else's memories, and the feelings that came with them.

"That makes sense," Sara voiced. Her words seemed a little distant though, her eyes boring into Y/n's, as if searching.

A little panicked, Y/n looked away. "Nice to see you again, Miss Smith. I hope you won't think me rude, but I must be off. Got work to do." He nodded to the principal. "Good day." Then he left, feeling Sara Jane Smith's eyes on his back the whole way.

Things were about to get very interesting.

-

"Kenny?" Y/n was surprised to see the spikey haired boy looking so shaken. Y/n had a habit of making friends with people as he went, in a way that Rose and the Doctor didn't. They were friendly and formed attachments, of course, but Y/n had an aura about him that made those who were lost or scared or confused flock to him for protection and understanding. It just so happened that those who were in such states in the line of things the Doctor and his two companions did, often had the most information. Y/n's friends were often full of just the information he needed, and they trusted him so much that it wasn't very hard to get it out of them.

Like now.

"I think I'm going mad," the young boy squeaked.

Ah yes, the staple sentence that meant someone had seen something important. "Now why's that?"

Kenny seemed to debate for quite a while, until Y/n rested his hand on the young boy's shoulders, encouraging him to talk. "I heard something weird in one of the classes, so I went to investigate. And... well I looked under one of the desks and there was some sort of... gargoyle, or bat or-" He shook his head. "I spooked it I think. It stood up and it was one of the staff." Y/n's eyes went wide. "He told me to go. Am I losing it?"

Kneeling down, Y/n got very serious. "You've not lost anything, Kenny, do you hear me?" The boy hesitated, then nodded. "I believe you. I do." That seemed to make Kenny quite relieved. "Now go to class and leave it up to me. I'll figure this out, promise." He hesitated before adding, "And Kenny? Don't tell anyone else what you saw, or that you told anyone. Do you understand me?"

The boy seemed unsure, but nodded again. "Okay."

"Good boy." Y/n let out a breath of relief. "Run along now and get to class. I don't want you being late." Kenny did go off, and Y/n turned back to his cart, looking at it a second before continuing on.

Did this mean he had to admit Mickey was right? God he hoped not.

-

"He said... a bat?"

"Or a gargoyle," Y/n confirmed to the Doctor's question. "Anything come to mind?"

"No." He frowned at the door they were about to go into as Y/n took the lead, using his keys to unlock it so they could all get in. He seemed worried by his lack of knowledge. If they were all being honest, it made Rose and Y/n just as nervous to see it. The Doctor was rarely caught off unawares and when he was... Well it wasn't good.

Once inside, Rose found a good joke as always to lighten the mood. "Oh," she whispered, her words mixed with laughter. "It's so weird to be in a school at night. Kinda spooky." She giggled, nudging Y/n who smiled. "When I was a kid I used to think all the teachers slept in school."

"Alright team," The Doctor began, shifting focus back to what was important. "Oh-" he cut off, making an odd face. "I hate people who say 'team'. Uh- gang? Uh... comrades."

"Squad?" Y/n offered.

"No," the Doctor shot down. "Anyway,  Rose, go to the kitchen and get a sample of that oil. Mickey, the new staff are all maths teachers, check on the maths department. Y/n, look around to see if you can find any traces that could give us more clues on these bat or gargoyle creatures. Anything at all. I'm going to check out Finch's office. Meet back here in ten minutes." He took off, leaving the other three alone.

Rose hesitated around Mickey. Y/n didn't know where the two were at anymore, since Rose, Y/n and the Doctor had become... official? Weren't they? I guess they'd never said. It was quite confusing now that he was thinking about it. Rose still seemed to care about Mickey, so there was that. Even now, she checked in one him. "You going to be alright?"

"Me?" He brushed off far too eagerly, as if he'd been waiting to show that he was cool and capable. Something gave Y/n the idea that Mickey was doing so specifically to seem more cool and collected than the Doctor. Jokes on him, the Doctor was neither of those things and tended to actually be rather unhinged and chaotic. Y/n wasn't going to correct Mickey though - it was funny to see the man scramble and make a fool of himself. "Infiltration and investigation? I'm an expert at this." He began to walk off and Y/n was a bit impressed at how calm and confident he was being... until Mickey came back to ask, "Where's the maths department?" Rose pointed him in the direction as Y/n did a bad job at hiding his mocking chuckles.

When Mickey was gone, Rose rounded on Y/n. "What is your deal?"

"What do you mean, I've always been at odds with Mickey," Y/n pointed out.

"Not like that," Rose argued. "You're usually at least polite if nothing else. And you can't blame this on the Doctor, because you were the one who backed me up when Mickey called and the Doctor tried to dismiss it. You respect Mickey, deep down. And you care about him. The only time I've seen you act like this, lashing out by being petty, was when we were younger and you were upset but wouldn't tell me. So, Y/n, what's your deal?"

Y/n wasn't sure when she had gotten so perceptive of him. Perhaps she'd always been this way. He knew how they always worked though. She wouldn't press if he asked her not to, and he couldn't risk this coming out. He didn't even know it was bothering him as much as it apparently was, but it didn't matter. His current... condition had to stay a secret. "Nothing, really. We have to-"

But Rose had changed too, just as Y/n had, and the usual way she let things slide didn't seem to be what she was okay with anymore. "We haven't kept secrets in ages now. You can trust me Y/n. That's what partners do, right? They talk to each other? Communication and all."

Partners. Wait, what? "I thought... you and Mickey-"

Rose offered a shrug ad a sheepish smile. "We've loved each other for years, you and me, and now we also love the Doctor. That's... a bit chaotic, I'm not going to lie. It's going to be hard enough loving two men who are equally reckless, I can't deal with the drama of someone else too. I... adore Mickey, I really do. He was good to me for a long time. But I've seen what wasting time and waiting too long can do, and if you two are eventually going to have to say goodbye to me then I am going to soak up ever damn second I have until then. I'm tired of wasting time, Y/n. It only hurts more in the end."

"Oh." Y/n rubbed the back of his neck, smiling to himself. "Okay."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You're adorable, truly, but you're not going to distract me. I want answers."

A panic flashed through the man and he did the first thing he could think of. He grabbed Rose and kissed the living hell out of her. When he leaned away, she looked a little dazed which is what he was going for. "I'll tell you. I really will. Just... not right now, okay? I can't do this right now, especially because there's too much else going on. I'm sorry." Then he took off toward the halls, ready to look around to find something that would help them all out.

He did find something. He opened the door, revealing a sight that made his blood run cold. Then he heard a scream, and he booked it over, running in to see Mickey. Before the boy could explain his exclamation, the Doctor joined the scene a second later, Rose and Sara Jane on his heels.

Y/n froze. "Sara Jane." He cleared his throat, able to handle it much better the second time around - especially with eyes on him. It sounded less like someone greeting an old friend, and more someone just saying hello in general.

"James," she greeted back. "Mr. Doe, I mean. Sorry, I got your first name from the principal quite by accident. Since you used mine I figured-"

"No worries," Y/n rushed. "It's - uh - not James though. It's actually Y/n. I went by a fake name myself. The Doctor stole John though, so I went with James instead. Different enough that no one would call me out for the obviously fake name."

"Oh," Sara Jane realized. "John Doe." They both chuckled, but the sound was cut off by an irritated Rose, who seemed to be very much not enjoying the exchange between the two.

"Why did you scream, Mickey?" She demanded, turning attention back to the reason they were all there. Unfortunately, Y/n did not miss the odd way the Doctor looked at him, confused by the interaction between the two.

Mickey seemed suddenly wanting to disappear. "Sorry, I uh..." He moved aside to let everyone see in. "You told me to investigate, so I started looking through these cupboards and all these fell out on me."

"Oh my god they're rats," Rose realized. "Dozens of rats. Vacuum-packed rats." Y/n had to agree with her wonder at it all.

"And you decided to scream?" The Doctor stood, looking at Mickey with a raised eyebrow.

"It took me by surprise," Mickey defended.

"Like a little girl?"

"It was dark! I was covered in rats!"

"Nine, maybe ten years old. I'm seeing pigtails, frilly skirt."

"To be fair," Y/n piped in, feeling this wasn't fair on Mickey. "There's a lot of tension and people tend to die on these adventures of ours. I don't blame Mickey for being tense." Seeing Sara Jane had put him in a rather good mood if he did say so himself, even if he refused to admit it. It countered his anxieties about having the Doctor's memories and brought him back to normal.

"Can we focus?" Was the nest thing said, and that came from Rose. "Has anyone noticed anything strange about this? Rats in school?"

"Well obviously they used them in biology lessons. They dissect them," Sarah Jane pointed out. "Or maybe you haven't reached that bit yet. How old are you?"

That took Y/n off guard, but before he could play peacemaker Rose shot back with, "Excuse me no one dissects rats in school anymore. They haven't done that for years. Where are from, the Dark Ages?"

"Anyway!" The Doctor butt in, looking between the two women with confusion. Y/n seemed to be the only one who got it, what was happening. "Moving on. Everything started when Mr. Finch arrived. We should go check his office."

"Actually." This time it was Y/n. "I found something, before we all got here. Rather convenient if you ask me, I won't lie. Now we can all go back together."

"And you're only saying this now?" The Doctor demanded.

Y/n rolled his eyes. "You shut your mouth. Between the jealousy wafting off of all four of you at all times and trying to keep the peace between all of it, I think I deserved a moment of silence for myself." Then he turned away, storming off toward the teacher's lounge where he'd seen the thing before.

"Jealousy?" the Doctor scoffed, offended. "I'm not- Y/n wait up!"

Y/n lead the way, the other four following. The Doctor was right behind Y/n, Sara Jane and Rose on either side of him and then Mickey behind them. As they walked, he heard, "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but who exactly are you?"

"Sara Jane Smith," she replied. "I used to travel with the Doctor."

"Oh!" Rose spoke with the voice that told Y/n she was getting pissed. The two women pushed ahead to be on either side of Y/n and even began to walk a little faster. Y/n didn't mind it, getting his kicks when they turned the wrong way at first and then had to catch up again. "Well, he's never mentioned you."

"That's it." Y/n stopped cold, the Doctor ramming into him. He ignored the man, facing the two women in the hallway. "You both listen to me. I'm not going to have you taking stabs at each other all night. Sara Jane, the Doctor didn't talk about you, but not because he doesn't care. He cares a lot, actually. Maybe two much. He's just got a lot on his plate at literally all times, and talking about his past hurts so he rarely does it - if ever. I already have to deal with the Doctor and Mickey, I won't tolerate this too. Sara Jane, you started this, and I want you to end it right now. Rose is just responding - neither which I condone by the way. Get your things in place." Then he turned back around and began walking again, leaving the other four to walk silently behind him for quite a stretch of time.

No one spoke again until they got to the teacher's lounge. "Maybe those rats were food," the Doctor thought aloud, actively trying to ignore the other two women and focus on Y/n, who seemed to be the only one with a level head tonight.

"Food for the gargoyle bats?" Y/n asked.

"Maybe, or-" but then the door opened and he looked around inside, and his voice died. "Rose, remember how you used to think all the teachers slept in school?" He began walking in, everyone filtering in after him. "Well, they do." Y/n was the only one who stayed out, already knowing what was inside.

Of those who went in, Mickey was the one who left first. He booked it out, causing everyone else to follow. He went right out the front doors, turning away from the school and catching his breath, hands on knees and eyes slammed close as he tried to shake the image of those things out of his head. "I am not going back in there," he stated firmly. "No way."

"Were those the teachers?" They were all out of breath, but Rose managed to look at the Doctor for more answers. He, however, was thinking it through, still trying to figure it out himself.

"When Finch arrived, he brought with him seven new teachers, four dinner ladies, and a nurse - thirteen. Thirteen big bat people." He looked back at the school. "Come on."

"You've got to be kidding me," Mickey complained.

"I need the TARDIS," the Doctor explained. "I've got to analyse that oil from the kitchen.

"I might be able to help you there," Sara Jane piped up. Rose rolled her eyes. "I've got something you should see." They all followed to her to her car, where she opened the trunk to reveal something covered in a blanket. The Doctor pulled it aside.

Two voices rang out at the same time. The first was the Doctor, which made sense. The second, unfortunately, was Y/n, who was yet again too caught off guard by surprise and too small a window of time to think clearly and stop himself. "K-9!"

Sarah Jane and the Doctor looked at Y/n, who was immediately struck with fear. God why did he have to have such a big mouth? By some mercy, Rose piped up before either of the two people now staring at Y/n with far too many question - none of which he was willing to answer - could begin asking. "Why does he look so... disco?"

That caught the Doctor's attention. "Oi!" He complained. "Listen, in the year 5000 this was cutting edge. What happened to him?"

Finally Sarah Jane looked away as well. "One day just... nothing," she answered.

"Didn't you try to get him repaired?" The Doctor sounded a little offended. It made Y/n smile to hear him whine like that.

"It's not like getting parts from a Mini Metro," Sara Jones pointed out, defending herself. "Besides, technology inside him could rewrite human science. I couldn't show him to anyone!"

"Ooh." The Doctor's voice dropped, speaking to K-9 as if the dog was alive and could hear him. Like one would speak to a real dog. "What has the nasty lady done to you?" It made Y/n smile even wider. God, he was rather adorable too, wasn't he? The Doctor reached up and scratched the metal behind where K-9's ears were. It was only then Y/n realized Rose and Mickey were confused by the whole show, rather than endeared. Y/n also noticed Sarah Jane, who stood up from where she'd been bent over before, giving Rose a look like she'd won something.

Y/n was about ready to lose it on the woman. Why couldn't these two just stop for one second and let the Doctor enjoy something? He didn't get to far too often. Before he could say something, Rose did. "Okay, could you two just stop petting for a minute? Never mind the tin dog, we're busy." With that, they all got into Sarah Jane's car and  headed to a nearby diner that was still open to fix K-9 so he could analyze the oil. There, the Doctor and Sarah Jane got acquainted once again. Y/n was too scared to reminisce with them, so he stayed by Rose and Mickey. Turns out, that was an even bigger mistake.

"You know what's really impressive is that she's been here an hour and I still haven't said I told you so," Mickey mouthed off.

Y/n felt his anger boil. "Probably because you didn't tell anyone anything, and you're just being a dick."

Mickey glared. The pair had only gotten hostile a few times, but had always been calmed by Rose. Rose, it seemed, was not in the mood to play peacemaker. It had been Y/n's role for too long now. "I'm sorry, YOU look at them then. Tell me that they weren't just like Rose and the Doctor."

Y/n absolutely noticed how Mickey cut Y/n out of that equation. Had she not told him the specifics, or was he just being extra petty? "Okay yes, Sara Jane traveled with the Doctor just like me and Rose do now, and things... were between them. Sort of." He scoffed. "But that was ages ago. Neither of them feel that way anymore, they're just nostalgic. The Doctor disappeared on Sarah Jane one day and just never returned. She thought he was dead, and he's been carrying that unfinished business with him ever since. There's been no closure." He sighed. "Can you imagine, Rose? Nine hundred years he's been alive, and you want him to have spent the majority of that all by himself, after watching his entire planet be destroyed? Think about how he was before we came in his life. How lonely it had to be. When the Doctor gets left alone like that... he gets too much in his head. He gets too fixated on his power and potential and how in control he is. His species is like a god to most others, and he's the last. If he'd been alone all this time, it would have gone to hid head long ago and he wouldn't be the man we know and love. Not even a shadow of him."

Rose didn't seemed cheered by that like Y/n thought, though her body did relax and her expression changed. She was still rather grim, but rather than with jealousy toward Sarah Jane, it was... worry. Confusion. All toward Y/n. "Why do you say that like you know? Like... you were there?"

Y/n didn't have an answer for that. Not one he wanted to share. "I..." He looked away. His mind was blank and he didn't know what to say. In that moment, he began speaking. "Can you imagine what its like to watch your family die right in front of you?" The room was suddenly quite silent, other than the Doctor and Sarah Jane still chatting in the background. "He has the weight of universes on his shoulders. The weight of time and space as a whole. All that ever was and will be. What is, and what can never be. He has it all in his head, swirling around in there waiting to swallow him whole. Think about how incredibly smart he is. No one is that smart anymore. Everyone we've met whose that smart was... lost, in a way. Knowledge is power, but power unused is a waste. Remember the Daleks? Just as clever as him, unable to handle the weight of emotions that comes with it, so they stripped it all away to just survive. They got so arrogant and so obsessed with the power of their minds they stopped really living, labeled themselves as the superior species, and going around destroying worlds with billions of people on it as a past time, for fun, because they legitimately believe that anything other than them is inferior and therefore needs to be destroyed. Can you imagine if it was just one of them? Alone, for hundreds of years. No one can match his intelligence or capability. When he fails, everyone else panics because he's the one we depend on to always have the answers and get it all done. he leads and everyone follows. If they know his real power, they usually do so without question and they'd be right to. The Doctor's wrath is unmatched, and his power is limitless, and without someone there to check him he'd have been lost long ago. It's just fact, Rose, and not hard to piece together. Pain changes people, and no one has been through more than the Doctor. If he wanted to, he could destroy everyone. Everything. But he doesn't, because he has people around him to remind him what is important past just facts and figures. Past logic and fixed points in time. I think that's why he likes humans so much. We remind each other."

"Two quid, love." Three pairs of eyes snapped to the side as Rose remembered why she was at this counter. She took her food with one hand, paying with the other. The trio all gathered their thoughts before heading over to a table for three, sitting down so Rose could eat her chips.

"Do you think he's only into us because of that?" Rose asked softly. "Because we ground him?"

Y/n smiled to himself. "No, not at all. I understand him. He hasn't been understood by someone stable and sane for a long time. It's usually the worst people who know what he's been through, or the people who had so much potential but have tragic endings. It's... disheartening, to say the least." He looked at Rose. "He likes you because you're all the best humanity has to offer. You care, loudly, and you do everything with your heart and never your head. You... you're the opposite of him, I guess. You're so much good. All of the good, even. A little reckless and loud, with a bleeding heart and a determination that can never be put out even in the bleakest of scenarios." Rose blushed and Y/n cleared his throat, looking away. "You know, he probably misses how big his family used to be. So many people fit in the TARDIS. I think... even if she does stay longer-"

"You think he'll invite her to come along with us?" Rose asked.

A shrug was all she got for a few seconds. "She knows things already. They had good times, the two of them. You can tell from the way she smiles at her. He gives himself to everyone he travels with, even if its just a little because they're not around long. It's like coming home to an old friend from your childhood. One who was a beacon of light in a world of darkness. Like if you and I lost touch and didn't talk for years. When you saw me again, still on good terms and missing how things used to be between us. Wouldn't you want that to not end?"

Rose didn't like that answer. Y/n thought he'd probably spoken enough at this point and the trio sat in quiet as the Doctor fixed K-9 and Rose ate her chips.

The next thing they knew, the Doctor was jumping up from his table as the robotic dog whirred to life. "All right!" he exclaimed. "Now we're in business."

"Master," K-9 said, in an electronic voice that brought memories back to Y/n he shouldn't have.

"He recognizes me!" the Doctor crooned, grinning at Sarah Jane.

"Affirmative," K-9 spoke again.

"Rose." The Doctor turned around to face the three humans sat away from him and Sarah Jane. "Give us the oil." AT his call, the three rose and joined him so Rose could hand over the little jar she'd collected earlier from the school. He took it, opened it, and went to dip a finger in to scoop it out.

Rose stopped him. "I wouldn't touch it though, that dinner lady got all scorched."

"I'm no dinner lady," the Doctor declared in such a serious voice that Y/n almost laughed. "And I don't often say that," the man added, eyes taking in Y/n's amusement. He then dipped a finger in with no harm at all, smearing the oil onto K-9's censor. "Here we go," the Doctor encouraged as K-9 began to beep. "Come on boy here we go."

K-9 spoke again, his words stuttered. "Oil extract..." he began. He seemed to be struggling. "Analyzing."

"Listen to him man," Mickey chuckled. "That's a voice!"

"Careful," the Doctor warned. "That's my dog."

Y/n smiled to himself. For a second he imagined the Doctor in a life different than this. A life the Doctor wanted but would never be allowed to live. One he never let himself think about. A life in a house, a ring on his finger and a dog barking in the front lawn. Children... It would be a nice life. Y/n could see the man playing with that dog as he did K-9, but more. Just fun, rather than gaining knowledge and analyzing data and running into danger head first. He'd have so much fun with a real dog... That life though. Y/n tried to imagine the Doctor really in it. Settling down in a house of his own. Getting a job. It would be a happy life. A stable and safe life. It would not be a life that really fit him though. The Doctor is and always would be a traveler. It was a life he'd chosen for himself, on purpose. One that fit him.

He felt eyes on him and looked over, locking eyes with Sarah Jane. Her gaze widened as she saw that familiar thing in Y/n again. The thing, she now realized, she always saw when she looked at the Doctor. She recalled her surprise when the Doctor had revealed himself to not be Y/n, realizing that the first time they'd talked, she'd subconsciously thought Y/n and the Doctor the same man. She searched Y/n's should, trying to understand. Y/n saw a question that startled him.

Are you a Timelord?

She seemed to ask it silently, scanning Y/n's face for signs. But there wouldn't be, even if Y/n was. Of course he wasn't... and yet. The question was warranted. What made a man who changed faces and personalities and age and ethnicity every time he died? Who became a new man over and over again, over hundreds of years? Other than the obvious biology that kept him consistently a Timelord no matter what face he took, the thing that made the Doctor was his memories. His mind. The way he saw life and knew things that should be impossible. If that was what made Timelords special - what made the Doctor special - did Y/n having that knowledge somehow make him special too? No, he wasn't a Timelord, but he did have a very significant piece of one locked inside of him. He had a whole other person in his mind, with a life he never lived and people he never met.

So no, technically, Y/n was not a Timelord. Not biologically. But perhaps... perhaps just a little, in away, he was. What an interesting thought.

"Are you two coming?"

The pair looked over to see Mickey, and an even more surprising sight. The Doctor, looking between Y/n and Sarah Jane with the same look that Rose wore for Sarah Jane and the Doctor. With... jealousy? Well that made absolutely no sense.

"Yeah," Y/n responded, realizing everyone else was headed back out again. "Sorry, I missed that last bit. What's happening now?"

"We'll update you on the way," the Doctor dismissed, seeming suddenly rather far away. They all left the diner and piled in the car again. During the drive, the empty spaces in the missed conversation were filled in and everyone was caught up. First to be dropped off was Mickey, then the Rose, the Doctor, and Y/n, who always stayed at Rose's when they needed to. Jackie never minded.

The night was stretching on and Y/n couldn't sleep. There was a spare room that Mickey sometimes slept in, which the Doctor took now on Y/n's insistence. They'd agreed on switching off nights, and tonight was Y/n's turn on the couch. Perhaps that was what gave Rose the courage to come into the room and face Y/n. "I can't sleep."

Y/n sat up. "Neither can I. Want to watch a movie and drink something warm?"

The blond shook her head. "Can I just... lay with you? We don't have to sleep or stay awake. I just don't want to be alone." Y/n scooted, making room for her. He patted the spot next to him, where she settled. After a second she leaned into Y/n, and he let his arm wrap around her, pulling her into his side. "You know, I've been playing it off but... there really will be a time after me, for you two. You don't die, and he... he's lives hundreds of years, I'm sure he'll be here after I die. Do you think - I mean, he and her were close once too. Do you think he'll forget me like he did her? He doesn't even talk about her anymore. I just-"

Y/n held her tighter. "He doesn't forget anyone, Rose. Really he doesn't. It's just like I said before - it hurts him to talk about his past. If he lingers in what he misses, he drowns in the sadness of all he's lost. I- you're different, I think. If not for him definitely for me. Maybe I do have forever ahead of me, but there's nothing like your first love. You'll always be with me, Rose, I promise you." Y/n sighed. "I can't speak for him though. You should talk to him yourself, after all this is done."

Rose didn't respond. Wrapped in each other's arms and held together by a promise that Y/n meant with all of his being, they finally relaxed and fell asleep.

The next morning, they all had to go back to school. They weren't wasting time pretending to do their jobs this time though. They didn't know what was happening, or when it would get worse, and no cover was worth the life of another student if they took too long.

"Rose, Sarah, you two go to the maths room and crack open those computers. I need to see the hardware inside." He took out his sonic screwdriver, handing it to Rose. "Here, you might need this. Y/n, you keep an eye on the kids. I don't want anymore to go missing. Mickey, surveillance. I want you outside."

"Just stand outside?" Mickey asked, confused.

"Here, take these." Sarah tossed Mickey her keys. "You can keep K-9 company."

"Don't forget to leave the window open a crack," the Doctor called back as Mickey walked back to the car.

"What? He's metal!" Mickey threw back.

"I didn't mean for him!" the Doctor replied. He shot a smile at Y/n, but this time Y/n did not give one back. Making fun of Mickey was losing his touch. This whole thing was getting to Y/n and he couldn't find much amusing at the moment. He'd been thinking nonstop about what he would do if Rose- I guess, WHEN Rose left them. It was a terrible thought and he very much hated it, but he couldn't shake it either.

Rose cut in on his thoughts by asking the Doctor, "What are you going to do?"

The Doctor's smile dropped as he got serious. "It's time I had a word with Mr. Finch."

That was where they parted ways. Y/n drifted through the halls, hovering around the principal's office when the man wasn't around, and then heading outside when it was break time. The alarm went off for everyone to go inside far too early and Y/n hesitated, staying back, as the kids rushed back into the building again. He had a horrible feeling in his gut. What was about to happen?

A hand rested on Y/n's arm. He looked over to see Kenny, to his relief. "Sir..." the boy hesitated. "Have you gotten any closer to stopping the bat people?"

Y/n smiled, nodding in reassurance. "Much. I promise, we're just about to figure it out. Go to class Kenny, I swear we've got this handled."

"We?" Kenny asked.

"Yeah, me and some friends. Uh, you know the blonde lunch lady with lots of attitude, and the physics teacher?"

Kenny stepped back. "You're one of them."

"What?" Y/n stepped toward him, but the boy stumbled away even further. "No, Kenny, I'm-" but Kenny didn't wait for an explanation. He just turned and ran. Y/n wanted to go after him, but couldn't. It wouldn't help much, and he had to keep an eye on the children - especially now that things seemed about ready to hit the fan. So, instead, he counted his losses and jogged into the building to see all the kids filtering into classrooms with computers that light up with green screens. He couldn't go into any of them without crossing a teacher he knew was one of the bad guys though, so he headed on and on until he found the room with the others in it.

Rose was there to greet him. "You were right." He paused, unsure how to proceed after that. She did it for him. "Sarah and I talked. She's pretty cool actually. We decided to stop fighting."

Y/n did smile at that. "I'm glad to hear it." Rose took his hand, turning and walking toward the Doctor, pulling Y/n after her. She seemed to be hovering between helping him - which she really couldn't do - and watching the doorway to make sure no children came in, which is probably what she was told to do. None of them seemed to be making much headway in any direction.

Suddenly the screens light up with green light and words that none of them could understand. Well, none of them bu the Doctor surely, whose eyes seemed to scan the screen, taking up as much as he could as it all raced across the screen almost too quick to read.

"Well, you wanted the program," Sarah sighed. "There it is."

"Some sort of code," the Doctor whispered. After a second, he stepped forward. "No... No, they can't be."

"What is it?" Y/n asked gently.

"The Skasas Paradigm," the Doctor finally said aloud. "They're trying to crack the Skasas Paradigm."

"The Skasis what?" Sarah rightfully asked.

The Doctor struggled to explain. "The god-maker. The universal theory. Crack that equation and you've got control over the building blocks of the universe. Time and space and matter, yours to control."

"What, and the kids are like a giant computer?" Rose asked, horrified.

"Yes." The Doctor seemed to not like the answer, but not just in a general way. None of them liked this, but the Doctor seemed to hate this. On a personal level. He suddenly turned away from it, not wanting to see it anymore. "And their learning power is being accelerated by the oil! That oil from the kitchens, it works as a conducting agent, it makes the kids cleverer."

The other women turned to watch the Doctor pace, but Y/n watched the screen, as if transfixed. His mind felt a little far away. He felt that same thing he'd sensed in the Doctor. He didn't just not like this. He hated it. He loathed this entire thing. "But why?" It came out soft and quiet. Maybe even a little broken. He finally looked at the Doctor, finding confusion among all the anger surging through him. "That's not living, controlling everything. It's not experiencing or learning or anything. It's... creating a world for others to live in. What's the fun in knowing what's going to happen next and controlling everything to go your way? Makes it so much more fun to improvise. Makes it... better. Life is meant to be experienced, not... I mean, authors don't experience their stories, readers do. Characters. Why would anyone choose to be the author?"

The Doctor almost smiled. "Because life is hard and scary. Some people don't want to live through that fear and struggle. They forget the fun and the thrill and the adventure, and they destroy it in favor of getting rid of those hardships. That's what so many living beings forget. You can't have happiness without sadness. They create each other. It's no fun to be the smartest in the room. To know everything and having been everywhere. The fun is in the confusion. In the chaos. In the complete lack of control."

"Okay nice psychology and all," Rose interrupted, breaking the two men away from their locked eyes and racing minds as they connected yet again in a way she missed. "But that oil, I mean, that's been on the chips. Y/n and I have been eating them."

Immediately the Doctor faced her, shooting, "What's 59 times 35?"

Without hesitation, Rose replied with the exact sane tone, "2065." He tilted his head and she added, "Oh my god." Y/n found himself enjoying this. There was still that anger, but it wasn't affecting him negatively. It cleared his mind and got his heart racing. He felt his body speeding up, and his mind running faster than it ever had before.

Y/n's anger was only fueling him, and now he was smarter than ever. Nothing could stop him.

"But why use children?" Sarah asked. "Can't they use adults?"

"The god-maker needs imagination to crack it," Y/n answered without thinking. He had tapped into the Doctor's knowledge long ago, soaking in every detail running through the Doctor's head up until the day Rose Tyler and Bad Wolf and the Doctor's new regeneration. He'd been holding back so much, afraid of exposing himself, but now he was rushing on adrenaline and smarter than ever. Not only did he have the information, but he could understand it, and there was none of his usual and there was none of his usual anxieties stopping him. "Name one adult with imagination. Real imagination. Enough to create lives and worlds and universes - stories, or games. Enough to look at one thing and see something magical. Nearly impossible in adults. Much easier to get from children."

Y/n's energy made the Doctor pause. "Precisely," he affirmed softly. Sarah and Rose both seemed surprised as well. "They're not just using the childrens' brains to break the code..." He calmed significantly, turning to the other three with a grim expression. "They're using their souls."

That. That was what Y/n had been so angry about. It clicked as the Doctor said it.

Just in time, they had a visitor. "Let the lesson begin." Y/n swung around, coming face to face with the one person Y/n wanted to see the most. "Think of it, Doctor. With the paradigm solved, reality becomes clay in our hands. We can shape the universe and improve it."

"What a rubbish idea," Y/n sassed, rolling his eyes. "The universe isn't meant to be controlled."

"The whole of creation with the face of Mr. Finch," the Doctor agreed, scoffing. "Call me old fashioned, I like things the way they are."

Mr. Finch seemed annoyed by that. "You act like such a radical and yet all you want to do is preserve the old order."

"What's wrong with the old order?" Y/n demanded hotly.

Finally Mr. Finch looked at Y/n. He paused, his eyes roaming to the Doctor again and then back to Y/n. He seemed stunned a second. Only Y/n knew why. Just as Sarah had before, Mr. Finch saw the same look in Y/n's eyes as he saw in the Doctor's. The aged look of one who had been through too much for too long and was still trying to keep going. Keep going despite a small voice at the back of the mind that begged for peace and quiet. One that would never be listened to, because peace and quiet was too terrifying and too many people needed help.

When Mr. Finch spoke next, he spoke to Y/n and the Doctor both. "Think of the changes that could be made if this power was used for good."

Immediately the Doctor was ready with a snappy response. "What, by someone like you?" Y/n let out a sound that was halfway between a scoff and a laugh in agreement.

"No," was Mr. Finch's answer though, taking both of the other men slightly by surprise. "Someone like you." There was a split second of quiet so thick it was nearly suffocating. Mr. Finch cut it off rather quickly. "The paradigm gives us power but you could give us wisdom. Become a god, at my side." He took a step closer to the Doctor. Y/n did the same, but his movements were protective, rather than an attempt to convince. To break. "Imagine what you could do. Think of the civilizations you could save. Perganon, Ascinta - your own people, Doctor. Standing tall." The Timelords, reborn."

"That's not right." Y/n stood straight, that anger in him again even stronger, but this time because he knew how much this hurt the Doctor and he couldn't bear it. This wasn't fair, and Y/n was tired of the Doctor dealing with things that weren't fair. "Everything has its time. Everything ends eventually. The Timelords earned their ending the same as everyone does. How could you ask that of him? It would be chaos. There would be no balance. True chaos. Living forever is painful, and defying death is unnatural."

"Nature, reality, chaos, balance - this could all be ours to change. The rules can be different," Mr. Finch pointed out in response. "You could be anything you wanted to be. You could get those memories out of your head."

Y/n felt all his energy drain. He kept his eyes away from the Doctor, staring purposefully at Mr. Finch while the Doctor shot lasers at the side of Y/n's head. "There's so much you don't understand. You asked for wisdom, and you're ignoring it as its given to you. This isn't some kind of play pretend. This isn't a fantasy that you get to make into a paradise where you always win. You have to lose sometimes, because other people get to win sometimes too. Life's hard and complicated and long and it sucks, but only because we have to hurt in order to know the bliss of not hurting. There's balance. There's fairness. Not always, because sometimes even fairness has to be overruled by unfairness. But that's how it goes. Everyone gets their time, and its short because there's only so much time to give. If one person's time doesn't end, there will be no more time to give to anyone else - don't you understand?"

"I do understand," Mr. Finch sighed. His eyes moved to Sarah and Rose. "You four... clinging to each other, knowing you will eventually have to part ways. This way, it'll never have to happen. No aging or death or going away. No more goodbyes." He looked at the Doctor. "How lonely you must be, Doctor, after a lifetime of one goodbye after another. You can finally make it stop." He looked at Y/n. "You can stop the hurt, for all of them. You who speaks with wisdom you shouldn't have. Who relives over and over again pain and misery that isn't yours. You can make it go away. You can forget all of it. Erase it. Undo it. Make it never happen. Happy, forever. Join us."

"I could save everyone." Y/n looked away, closing his eyes as the Doctor spoke.

"Yes," Mr. Finch encouraged.

"I could stop the war." He grew quiet, thinking about that. Imagining Gallifrey. Seeing it in his memories, but... better. As he is now, Rose and Y/n by his side. His family and friends, returned. His home gloriously breathtaking once more. Y/n could see it too, and... he couldn't speak for the Doctor this time. He knew what he would do if the situations were reserved, and he'd already said his piece. This wasn't his to have an opinion on.

Sarah Jane disagreed. "No," she argued. "The universe has to keep moving forward. "Pain and loss, it defines us. Y/n was right - we need it. Just as much as happiness and love. Whether it's a world or a relationship. Everything will have an end when the time comes. Y/n... knows." She looked at Y/n then, and he turned away from her too. In those last two words was more than what seemed to be there at first. She was not speaking about him knowing loss as she did. She was saying that he knew loss as the Doctor did. Y/n was right, she seemed to beg them all to understand. He knew better than all of them.

Suddenly the Doctor picked up a chair, rushing forward and chucking it at the screen on the wall and shattering it. They all took off running, trying to get as far away from Finch as they could. They ran and ran until they met Mickey, who asked questions there was no time to answer as the others like Finch crawled the halls, screeching and taking off after the Doctor and his companions. So they turned and ran a new direction that took them to the lunchroom. The doors were locked, and right behind them were Finch and the others. This wasn't seeming to be going their way.

"Are those the teachers?" The question came from Kenny, who Y/n had missed joining the group with Mickey when they'd all been running.

"Yeah, sorry." That came from the Doctor. Kenny and Y/n locked eyes and smiled at another. Whatever had been complicated before had been cleared up now - it was obvious whose side Y/n was on.

"We need either the Doctor or the other man alive. Y/n. Just one." Finch looked right at both men as he said their names, and got back a glare in response from both. "As for the others... you can feast."

And so began the fight for their lives. Creature came swooping down from the sky as they all scattered, trying to avoid getting caught in the way of claws or teeth. The Doctor grabbed a chair. Y/n stole his sonic screwdriver and slid toward the door, trying to get it unlocked. It was a hard time as Y/n kept getting almost attacked. At one point, he wasn't fast enough. He turned his back and pressed the sonic screwdriver to the door, trying to work on it. He was too distracted to see the claws aimed for his back. Rose only had time to scream Y/n's name before there was a loud. high pitched sound and a shot of red from the corner of Y/n's eye. He spun around to see K-9. The dog had shot the thing from the sky, killing it, and saving Y/n's life.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to anger Finch more.

Abandoning the door, they took off in a different direction that was open now that K-9 had taken one of them out. They shot off and hesitated only a moment to collect their thoughts. They couldn't run forever - they needed a plan.

As always, it was the Doctor who thought of something. "It's the oil!" He realized. "Krillitane life forms can't handle the oil! That's it! They've changed their physiology so much that even their own oil is toxic to them. How much was there in the kitchen?" He asked Rose in a rush.

"Barrels of it," she responded.

Just then, the Krillitanes made their presence known as they began to scratch and rip at the door separating Krillitane from human... and Doctor.

"We have to get into the kitchen," the Doctor began. "Mickey-"

Mickey had some sass of his own bottled up though. "What now?" he demanded. "Hold the coats?"

Y/n shot him a glare, and Mickey stuck his tongue out in response. The Doctor didn't waste time, instead ordering, "Get all the children unplugged and out of the school. Now then, bats. Bats, bats. How do we fight bats?" To that question, Kenny had an answer. Without saying anything, he hit the fire alarm. The Doctor looked around and then grinned, a laugh of victory coming from him. The rest of the group smiled as well.

With the enemy distracted, they all took off running past the door that had kept them from escaping, right past the Krillitane who were now all on the ground in pain. They ran and ran toward the kitchens. Along the way, K-9 joined them as well. The whole group was back together, and Y/n found his heart swelling as he took in the crowd. This was how it was supposed to be. A group, friends and partners, all there and caring for the Doctor and helping him save the world however many times it needed saving.

In the kitchens, they ran into a problem that quickly wiped away Y/n's good feelings. "They're all deadlock sealed, I can't open them," the Doctor told the others as he tried to use his screwdriver to open up the oil cans. "Finch must have done it."

K-9 had the answer this time. "The vats would not withstand a direct hit from my laser, but my batteries are failing."

"Right," the Doctor picked up again. "Everyone out the back door. K-9, stay with me." Y/n hesitated, but Rose caught his arm and the Doctor shot him a direct look, as if knowing he would try and stay. So he turned and he ran and he hated every second of it.

They were outside now... which meant they were safe, but also that if the Doctor needed help they had no way of getting to him.

When the Doctor came outside, there was a wave of relief inside Y/n... until Sarah Jane asked a question that made his heart plummet. "Where's K-9?"

"We need to run," was the Doctor's response as he deadlocked the door behind them so none could go back.

"Where is he?" Sarah asked again. This time Y/n was needed to grab her hand and pull her away, knowing she didn't want to move and probably wouldn't without help. "What have you done?" she demanded as Y/n dragged her along on their dash for safety. Behind them, there was an explosion.

Y/n and Sarah both stopped short, eyes on the building and pain in their eyes. The Doctor turned to Sarah to comfort her. Y/n tried to get used to this feeling. Having feelings that should not belong to him. Experiencing loss for people he didn't know. No one turning to him to comfort him, because he shouldn't need comfort to begin with.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor apologized to Sarah Jane.

"It's alright," she responded, standing tall. "He was just a daft metal dog - it's fine, really." Her voice broke with emotion and Y/n felt his heart fall. He turned away from the others to hide it. No matter what adrenaline he was on and how much he hated hiding things from the Doctor and Rose, hiding pain from others was still one of his core responses.

With the whole thing over, it was time to go. Y/n hated goodbyes. After today - after thinking about a world without them - Y/n had enough of them for now. He went further into the TARDIS into the room he'd claimed for when they eventually had to sleep. Where he kept his stuff and such. He stayed there until the sounds of the TARDIS started up and he knew they were taking off and headed for the next adventure.

Only one thing bothered him now: how long could he keep knowing the Doctor's past quiet now? After everything that had happened was beginning to add up... how long would it be before the Doctor put it together? Or someone else?

Y/n was running out of time.

-

Story Taglist:  @shoochi @e-reads-fics

Male readers taglist: @sheepfather​

[creativerogues]

Player’s Guide: Meet The Archmages of Capitol!

Well the Player’s Guide is coming together really well, and thanks to @dnd-chamyra-studies, as well as @paradigmanomaly and @nickle-snatcher for providing so much help on building the City of Capitol.

But without any further delay, let’s get into the details...

Archmage of Illusion, The Archmage Indefinable

The Archmage of Illusion never shares his actual name, and often creates elaborate illusions and personas to hide himself.

He’s a High-Level Wizard (obviously) with the magical capabilities to create up to 8 Illusory Duplicates thanks to his ability to cast Mirror Image at-will, and he’s almost accompanied by his Simulacrum, who can do the same...

He’s used many fancy names and personas to hide his identity: Example names include Salem, Owahl, Zakalis and Morgan.

The Archmage of Illusion became famous for being so powerful that when the rival Kingdom of Rassumurait attempted to sail to the shores of Capitol, he disguised the stars they used to navigate so that they ended up lost at sea and where forced to retreat...

What does he look like?

He’s an older Halfling Man, lightly hunched in posture with wild curly grey hair with an arrow through it like a makeshift hairpin. He’s well over 3-foot-tall, even while hunched over, with gross old barefoot hobbit feet with excessive foot hair, his toenails have clearly never been trimmed, and he seems to have some sort of exotic fungal disease on his feet, even starting to develop small mushrooms...

Because when you literally always have a disguise or illusion on you, you don’t really need to look good or wash at all...

He carries a small wooden staff like a cane, and in his other hand he often holds a pipe.

The Archmage of Illusion is known for levitating in conversations with the other Archmages, so they can speak eye-to-eye rather than top-of-head to crotch; and he has a nervous habit of letting out a little giggle whenever he tells the truth.

He’s also recently become addicted to the Laumadorian Plant known as ‘Weeping Flak’, smoking it and adding it like spice and sugar to everything they consume, since Weeping Flak (also known as Bluegrass) is also known to increase one’s arcane powers for a short time after consumption.

Archmage of Enchantment, Father Jack

Father Jack? Well this handsome dwarven wizard used to get every girl he wanted into bed since his beard started to grow. You may be asking why the Archmages call him Father Jack, better pose that question to his 122 Sons and 99 Daughters...

He’s short, stocky, and very clearly dwarven to anyone that looks at him. His skin is slightly tanned from his days on the coast, and his face carries a big bulbous red nose at its center.

His beard seems quite magnificent, with ornate brass and bronze bands adorning their beard. Their beard is also very obviously dyed. There are streaks of grey that have been colored to match their original shade, but don’t quite match.

Another odd feature is his left eye, since he’s missing it, and it appears he’s had a chunk of solid gold carved to look like an eye implanted in the place of his left eye.

He wears a copper ring on one finger, a ring with intricate carvings on its surface, and this Archmage always seems to be followed by a smell of rum and alcohol on his breath...

Archmage of Conjuration, Archmage Butterfly

Her full name is ‘Clawed Butterfly’. A Conjuration Wizard who is always accompanied by her Faithful Hound and her Unseen Servant. She often chooses to use Misty Step rather than walking...

She’s feline and cat-like in appearance, she often wears an ombre-dyed hood that reminds you of a hunting cat. Meanwhile the feline tail of the Archmage winds and flickers with a mind of its own.

She has cat-like slits for eyes, and just to confirm; Yes, she’s a Tabaxi Wizard.

She has tattoos across her face, starting from the corner of her mouth to the edge of her eye, but barely visible under her tabaxi hair.

Her right arm is bizarre and unnatural: One of her arms is a slightly different tone, and slightly shorter in length than the other one, her right-hand having steel claws that appear to be artificially attached to her fingertips.

Her left arm is even more bizarre: She has an extra hand coming out of her left wrist. This extra hand is as small as a child’s and is blackened and seems to be of no use: A failed conjuration experiment perhaps?

She also has an eye on the palm of her left hand, something she hides behind her back in her always regal-looking pose while speaking.

Archmage of Evocation, Archmage Damascus Iados

A Tiefling Evocation Wizard with bright flames that flicker across the back of their hands, and smaller, heatless flames seem to flicker across their skin while the earth seems to tremor slightly while he walks.

In charge of the Tower of Evocation, Archmage Iados is a Tiefling Man with bright red skin, a bald head and two curling horns atop his head like those of a wild ram.

He wears blue and green robes that flow down to his feet, and every so often has heatless flames flickering across his skin before sputtering out on their own.

His left hand has three fingers, while his right hand has seven, and both hands seem to glow very faintly with a low white flame...

Archmage of Abjuration, Archmage Neskul Nyultin

Urban legends say that there used to be a Silver Dragonborn Wizard so skilled in the magics of Abjuration, yet so paranoid, that he stayed deep underground within his Tower, surrounded by a bubble of powerful magics, though when forced to go outside in-person, he sits cross-legged on a Tenser’s Floating Disk, with a globe of protective magics around him at all times...

Archmage Neskul Nyultin is a Dragonborn Wizard with glimmering silver scales, as is usually seen cross-legged on a small disk of force that floats above the ground. His legs seem withered from atrophy, and his body seems very thin for a Dragonborn...

A shimmering globe of arcane wards almost always surrounds him, as he’s almost always seen with his hands inwards, his fingers intertwined and seemingly always concentrating on the many spells that protect his being.

This Dragonborn Archmage has several scales missing and a long deep gash running along his face. He has two long, spiny and membranous ears, and a slightly off-center snout, akin to a poorly reset broken nose.

Upon his head sit two overly curled horns, and in his chest glows a dragonborn heart, a heart that glows bright enough to be seen beneath his scales and through the sphere of arcane wards that surround him.

 After an encounter with a Red Dagger Assassin as a young Archmage, Neskul has become paranoid, as he knows the Red Daggers are master assassins that always get their target, one way or another. 

This paranoia has caused him to become shut-off and shut-in, though he still teaches the students of his Tower through the use of Simulacrums, Projected Images and various other methods of magic, all while hiding himself away deep within the underground of his Tower of Abjuration...

Archmage of War, Archmage Leowynn Wynanthal

A High Elf War Wizard and Bladesinger, Archmage Leowynn is probably the most prominent figure in Capitol aside Archmage Iados.

An elf with pearl-colored hair that seems to glow in the light, with long and curved ears and incredibly long eyebrows with a small pointed nose. He has pale skin, his face having splotches the color of red wine, with exotic runes carved onto his forearms and a long thin rapier by his side.

He wears flowing robes that looks as if they’re made from specks of starlight, he also wears elven ear clasps made of spun silver and an engraved leather archery bracer on his left wrist.

He has many scars and callouses along his forearms, perhaps formed over many brutal sparring sessions.

But his hands can sometimes be the most fascinating thing about him. He has a recessive finger on each hand, and a Holy Symbol of the Black Hand of Bane branded onto his right hand.

Leowynn is maybe my favorite Archmage out of the lot. He’s the Archmage in charge of both the Tower of War that trains War Wizards, and the War College that trains up the regular infantrymen and soldiers.

He’s probably the most publicly seen figure, and his whole host of magic items, from Bracers of Archery to his Robe of Stars to everything else he carries, also makes him look the part of an Archmage (he’s also the only Archmage to travel to another Plane of existence...)

He’s also known for his spats and arguments with the other Archmages, since the War College has always had an uneasy alliance with the Edhel Halls Library, and with Archmage Leowynn being one of the few Archmages to of taken part in the War Underground between the Elves of the West and the Drow of the East over 50 Years ago, he’s probably the oldest Archmage in the King’s Council, but he seems to favor Archmage Iados and students from the Tower of Evocation especially...

Archmage of Necromancy, Archmage Froja Dundrek

Ya haven’t heard of the old tale of Froja’s head? Well let me tell ya!

There was once a Wizard called Froja who got sentenced to death for using Necromancy and black magics back when it was still a crime, before the War Underground basically. She managed to break free and sneak into the Archives of the Edhel Halls, the place that holds all the scrolls with the old magics in ‘em. She found a spell in those forbidden pages, one that granted her eternal life.

After she cast the Spell, she went in-front of the King himself and asked for forgiveness before demanding her freedom, he refused. Put her in Jail and chopped off her head the next day.

Well as it turns out, she’s still alive! And she now teaches other Wizards. But they still keep her head as a training object for young students...

The best way to describe Froja’s apperance is that of a headless corpse.

She’s a shadowy and shrouded figure, wearing boots and thick black leather straps around the ankles. She also wears grey patterned pants and a slender thin belt made of the same black leather.

A shimmering feathered shawl drapes from her shoulders like a pair of dark wings, and a brooch that seems to be made of woven strands of pure silver hangs from her left breast.

And above her shoulders is a collar made of woven tree twigs, the twigs and sticks thorny and withered black. 

And finally, above this collar, where a head would be, there’s nothing at all! No head, and yet the body lives on...

Archmage Neskul has been at odds with Archmage Froja since the beginning, with Archmage Neskul begging Froja time and time again to reveal whatever magics and spells she used to maintain this life (or un-life) for eternity, never being able to truly die. And time and time again Froja had refused his advances, never revealing even a single detail about the spell she used to gain this eternal life...

Archmage of Transmutation, Drasaaria Argal

There once was a Transmutation Wizard so prolific that eventually any gold coming into her city was treated like scrap metal to her...

Archmage Argal is a Half-Drow Transmutation Wizard, and probably the only figure with a dark elf bloodline that’s tolerated by most people in the Capitol. When she joined the King’s Council, the uproar was tremendous, as the War Underground between the Elves of the West and the Drow had ended not a decade before...

But you wouldn’t think she’s a half-drow if you looked at her, because her skin isn’t dark... It’s metallic!

Her skin has a shine to it like a fine polished metal, and some might even mistake her for a statue standing in the room if you didn’t know her...

She wears very little actual clothing, but hold onto your thirst because she still wears clothes, specifically a pair of white gloves woven from the finest spider silk, while an ornate ear-cuff in the fashion of an orchid spirals around her left ear.

Her leggings have an opalescent sheen, and she’s also one of the many Archmages that likes to stand and walk barefoot...

Argal is another one of my favorites, and I knew I wanted to put a Drow on the Council because I just wanted to see what would happen...

And trust me when I say she’s no pushover, as my Players have found out time and time again.

That shiny skin she has: That’s Adamantine. Yep, she transmuted her skin to become living adamantine, so you try facing down a 20th Level Archmage with 23 AC...

 And she’s also been known to horribly torture people the Council wants dead, or wants answers from. She’s turned a guy’s brains into mercury, polymorphed a guy into a robin before turning said bird into a tiny solid gold statue, she’s even wiped a Player’s memory clean using Programmed Amnesia... She’s a mean one...

She’s also one of the Wizards (alongside Archmage Froja) who’s at odds with Archmage Neskul, since he keeps asking her how she got her adamantine skin and she keeps refusing to answer him.

And due to most of the other Archmages just barely tolerating the presence of a Drow on their Council, that just means she trains up her students in the Tower of Transmutation even harder, which often results in the Tower of Transmutation producing some of the most powerful Mages...

Archmage of Divination, Archmage Ofyne Yuvidet

There used to be a Wizard so skilled in divination magics that she never bothered having a conversation, because she already knew how it was going to end...

Ofyne is a Human Wizard and the Archmage of Divination. She wears old dull blur robes over tattered clothing. She has long and frizzy graying-brown hair that falls just below her shoulders, with what looks like small woodland critters wriggling around in her hair...

Her body seems incredibly damaged. Her hands are stained multiple colors of brown and green, and acid burns that run along both hands.

On her right hand is a small blackened sixth finger that twitches of its own volition. She also possesses what’s left of a still-attached left hand. It looks like it was crushed but was never amputated. She also has a horrid burn mark running down from her left elbow to her crushed hand.

One leg seems severely deformed: Ofyne uses a set of double crutches to walk, but more often floats and flies around as she finds it far easier on her body. She’s also one of the Wizards that walks barefoot, and smells of burnt tea leaves!

She seems blind, her eyes pale and clouded over with cataracts in her old age, with bags under her eyes that suggests she probably hasn’t slept comfortably in many years...

She has no nose, instead having a big hole where her nose would be, and her mouth is permanently crooked, giving her a cocky smirk and almost wicked grin. However, Ofyne wears a prosthetic nose and mask made of silvery-blue mithral, which keeps the prosthetic in place while partially obscuring her face to prying eyes.

Small mushrooms emerge and grow from her neck and shoulders, she also has several scars around her neck, some apparently self-inflicted, almost like she’s had her throat slit multiple times and healed from every wound...

Ofyne (or Archmage Yuvidet if you want to call her that) is probably the most interesting Archmage. She hasn’t cut or groomed her hair in over 8 Years, and her eyes seem to glow when near poison or fresh blood.

She’s in charge of the Library of Saturnity in Fostin, ans she’s also one of the very few Archmages that’s actually allied with Archmage Neskul.

However, the Archmage of Divination is currently missing and has been missing for some number of months now, but this has yet to become public knowledge...

Ofyne is probably the oldest Human on the Council (aside from Archmage Froja and that eternal life thing she has going on...) and Ofyne’s seen a lot.

You’d think for a Divination Wizard she’d be fine right, no scratches at all because she knows the future...

Well when you have to take orders from the King, the Hand of the King, and a bunch of Archmages (lest you be straight up murdered), you’re forced into situations where you know you’re going to get messed up. (Google ‘The Seven Against Thebes’ if you want to see where I got some inspiration...)

And that’s all the Archmages!

And yes, I know there’s other Wizard Schools like the School of Invention and the School of Onomancy, but since those aren’t Official Subclasses yet, I’m yet to make them canon in my world, so no, there is no Archmage of Onomancy or Archmage of Invention... Yet!

But tell me what you think of the Archmages of Capitol, what are your first impression, are they to be trusted?

Let me know in the Comments with your Replys and Reblogs!

[stranger-who-writes-fiction]

the one with my favorite martian

AKA: J’onn’s intro the CAK ‘verse

*insert itsbeeneightfouryears.gif here* ...

THEN

It's her first big story.

The article runs on the front page of the business section—under the fold, sure, but still fairly prominent. The bold, black text of the headline runs half the width of the page, as does the large candid photo that accompanies the write-up. Kara's certain that the photo accounts for at least 70% of the attention the article has received over the course of the current news cycle; it's perfect. A shot that walks the fine line between candid and staged, capturing an otherwise unremarkable lab space and about a dozen lab techs on the move, dynamic as they go about their routine tasks, but at the center?

Dr. Kimiyo Hoshi, effortlessly commanding the room, unflappable and somehow radiant, in spite of the terrible fluorescent lighting.

Kara makes sure to highlight it at every opportunity. As her coworkers drop by her desk, offer congratulations, give her hearty slaps on the back (that result in more than a few confused murmurings—geez, Kent, you got...a solid shoulder there) she points to the photo, and reminds them,  a picture's worth a thousand words. A response that charms a few of the staff writers, but incenses Perry.

“It's a good article, Kent. Wouldn't have run it on the front of the section if it wasn't,” he says with an almost paternal huff of exasperation. “Stop deflecting and just say, 'thank you.'”

So Kara does, if only to keep peace with her boss. It bothers her, though, to be so firmly in the spotlight for any length of time. It pokes at a wounded part of her—whatever part might've been happy to receive accolades, and recognition, prior to arriving on an alien world where she could be hurt, where Kal could be hurt, if anyone ever got too close to them. To the real them.  

It's only when she's back home with Martha, Jonathan, and Kal that the praise is not immediately met with a level of discomfort. Though, it is a little embarrassing.

“On the fridge? Really?” Kara laughs as she reaches for the milk carton.

“Well, she wanted to hang it up on the bulletin board at the rec center,” Jonathan tells her from his seat at the kitchen table. “I had to talk her down. Bribed her with brand new magnets.”

“Aren't they cute?” Martha smiles at the updated collection. Kara has to agree that yes, the little plastic fruits are cute.

Kal, at least, is less concerned with telling her how great the article is, and more concerned with how professional journalism works. He wants to know everything. The questions last well into the evening; all four of them end up staying up late, comfortably gathered in the living room. Kal's in his usual place, sprawled on the rug, Jonathan in the recliner, Martha and Kara on the couch. It's only when Jonathan starts snoring at an octave unpleasant for Kryptonian super-hearing that they decide to call it a night.

“Put out fresh sheets,” Jonathan tells her through a yawn as he makes his way up the stairs. Both Jonathan and Martha keep insisting that they're eventually going to get around to turning Kara's room into...something. (Guest room and/or office are the prevailing front runners, though 'craft room' and 'home gym' have also been tossed around, on occasion.) The only proof that they've made any sort of progress is the handful of boxes in the back of her closet, otherwise it remains unchanged.

“Thanks,” Kara says, as Kal trails close behind Jonathan. She's about to follow, when the phone rings in the kitchen.

Martha answers. Several seconds pass, and then, from the doorway,

“Kara? It's for you.”

Kara blinks in surprise; she has no idea who it could be. Not any of her coworkers—she's made a point not to mention her routine weekends trips back home—she'd never be able to explain where she gets the money for 'airfare.' And she doubts it's anyone from town—the median age in Smallville is about fifty, and therefore, almost everyone's in bed by eight.

She accepts the receiver from Martha, but not before raising her eyebrows, hoping she can provide some sort of guess as to who it is.

But Martha shakes her head; she doesn't know.

“...Hello?”

“Kara?”

It takes Kara a moment to place the voice, distorted as it is by the phone. “Dr. Hoshi!” she says, both by way of greeting, and in answer to Martha's questioning stare. “...Hi!”

“I haven't caught you at a bad time, have I?”

“No, no, of course not,” Kara says as she leans against the wall. Martha offers a quick wave and mouths goodnight, which prompts Kara to glance at her wrist watch. “Er...uh. Well. It's a bit late, actually.”

“Oh! That's—sorry. I didn't even consider,” Dr. Hoshi says.

“It's fine,” Kara assures her, idly fiddling with the phone cord. “Just...unexpected?” she admits. “This actually isn't...” Kara pauses for a moment, trying to decide how much she wants to share. “...My primary number.”

“I know,” Dr. Hoshi says, “I used our tracking software to find you.”

Kara drops the phone cord. ...The mapping software can do that? A reflexive paranoia causes momentary chaos with her response time; she wants to stammer out some sort of reply, but she can only open her mouth, and close it. It's on maybe the third or forth guppy imitation when she hears a soft chuckle on the other end of the line. “...That was a joke.”

The alarm bells in her mind cease their loud ringing. “Oh, ha,” Kara forces out her own chuckle. “A joke. Of course.”

“I tracked you down the old-fashioned way,” Dr. Hoshi explains. “I asked the receptionist at the Daily Planet for the best number to call.”

“And she gave you this one?” Kara asks, incredulous.  

“No, she gave me five,” Dr. Hoshi laughs. “And I tried them all, several times. This is the first call to get through.” Kara can hear the smile in her voice as she adds, “You're a difficult woman to track down, Miss Kent.”

That's by design. “Oh, that's...I think I just need to update my contact information,” Kara lies. And, because it is late, and Kara's still recovering from that momentary scare, she's inclined to be a little more blunt than she might normally be, otherwise. “Was there something you needed?”

“Well, now it seems silly,” Dr. Hoshi says. “I just...” she trails off briefly. “Wanted to thank you. For your work on the article. I had a chance to sit down and read it today, and...” There's another pause. “It's very well done. Thank you.”

Kara's both relieved, and a little...underwhelmed? She'd almost been expecting the worst—that Dr. Hoshi was displeased with the article. Because why else call at this hour? But...a simple thank you? She probably could have left that with the receptionist at the Planet...

“Oh, uh...” Kara returns to fiddling with the phone cord. “You're welcome. But, really, I was just. Reporting the incredible work you're doing.” 'Stop deflecting, and just say thank you', she can hear Perry saying. “But, ah. Thank you. For the...thank you. Call.” She finishes awkwardly.

“I'm used to not being taken seriously by my peers,” Dr. Hoshi goes on like she hasn't heard Kara. “For a number of reasons, as I'm sure you can imagine, but. The work I'm doing certainly doesn't win me any favors.”

Kara frowns. “Your mapping software is the most advanced cataloging system of its kind,” she says. “The data you've been gathering should be proof of concept—”

Dr. Hoshi cuts her off with a laugh. “See, that's what I'm talking about. Your conviction. Your faith in the work we're doing here. You treat us with respect, and the same cannot always be said of my colleagues.” She sighs. “That is what I wanted to thank you for, Miss Kent.”

Kara is truly at a loss for words. She has to go back to, “You're...you're welcome.”

“I've kept you long enough, I think,” Dr. Hoshi says, and Kara's grateful, because she's not sure she'd be able to keep this conversation going. “And again, sorry about the late call.”

“It's no trouble, really.”

They exchange polite goodbyes, and Kara returns the receiver to its cradle, still processing the exchange.

As she turns off the kitchen light and heads upstairs, she reasons that maybe it's not that weird, this late night thank you call. She remembers her dad and her uncle, and how they would lose track of both time and social graces when wrapped up in a project.

And of course Dr. Hoshi would pick up on...how had she described it? Kara's conviction. Because Kara, for as cagey as she tries to be about some things, has a very hard time not wearing her passion on her sleeve. She's honestly surprised that Dr. Hoshi didn't ask her if she'd be interesting in donating to their funding, for as much apparent interest Kara has in their research.

She tries not to let this worry her as she brushes her teeth and changes into her pajamas. She's just finished putting the clean sheets on her bed, when she hears Kal.

“Who was on the phone?”

He's using their 'super secret cousin communication line'—basically whispering at a volume only the two of them can hear.

“The scientist from the article,” Kara answers, relieved to discover that he didn't resort to eavesdropping to satisfy his curiosity. “She just wanted to say thank you.”

“That's all? ...I figured it was some sort of emergency, cause it's so late.”

“I thought so too, but.” Kara flops down on her bed and closes her eyes. “Nope. Just a thank you.”

“She thinks you did a good job?”

“Seems so.”

“That's good. That she liked it.”

“Mmmm-hmmmm.”

“...”

“...”

“...Kara?”

“...”

“...Are you asleep?”

“...I'd like to be.”

“It was really just a thank you call?”

Kara sighs. “I think...she was just happy that I took her seriously. She liked that the article was respectful, of her and her work.”

“...Why wouldn't it be?”

“Because a lot of people think her work is...” Kara tries to find a good word. “...a waste of time.”

“I thought she made space maps.”

“Not that work.”

“Oh.” There's a lengthy stretch of silence. Kara thinks that perhaps Kal's finally out of questions, and she can get some sleep. But, “Well. What other work does she do?”

Kara stares at the ceiling. The paint and drywall fade away to reveal the dark night sky overhead.

“She wants to find aliens.”

* * *

NOW

The Grand Mesa SETI Installation isn't much to look at, squat and square as it is, surrounded by miles and miles of red dirt and scrub.  The fifteen or so arrays aren't terribly impressive either—in fact, they have something of an eerie quality about them, occasionally shifting, intermittently whirring, all in a slow, synchronized dance.

Against the backdrop of the Arizona desert, it's all just a bit...alien.

Kara would laugh at the irony, if not for the pervading somber mood of the visit.

The interior of the facility is less off-putting than the exterior; no-nonsense linoleum, flat grey walls, plastic furniture left over from the mid-eighties. Kara wonders if the equipment, too, is as dated as the interior decorating, which only makes her frown deepen.

There's no one at the front desk. Kara takes a quick glance at the rest of the facility with her x-ray vision—there are a few blind spots, thanks to what she imagines is old, lead-based paint, but she can see that it's basically a skeleton crew; the bare minimum amount of techs to keep the place running.

Kara sighs quietly to herself as she hears the click of the door on the far side of the front desk.

“Oh, uh. Hi.” It's a man, perhaps in his forties, dressed casually and clearly surprised by her presence. “Um. Are you here to see somebody?”

Kara opens her mouth, but is cut off by the arrival of a second person breezing through the same door.

“She's here to see me,” Dr. Hoshi tells the man. He catches a glimpse of her expression—stony and displeased, and quickly excuses himself. “Hello, Miss Kent.”

She doesn't smile, but the displeasure softens marginally into something like annoyance. Kara marvels at how different this woman is, from the woman she'd written about in her article, years ago. She's still austere, with her sharply styled a-line bob and pristine oxford and slacks, but where there was once idealistic determination in her stern gaze, there is a brittleness; cold and fragile, like thin ice.

“Dr. Hoshi,” Kara greets. “It's been a while.”

“It has,” Dr. Hoshi agrees, but her tone is utterly flat. “But that's to be expected, I suppose. As you can see,” she gestures to the room around them, but it's obvious she means the entire facility. “I'm hardly a high-profile catch these days.”

“You alluded to as much, in your recent...” Accusation? Confession? “...Interview.”

“If you're here for proof,” Dr. Hoshi shakes her head. “I have nothing for you.”

“I know,” Kara says, and Dr. Hoshi's expression changes for the first time since they've started talking. Not much, though. Just a slight narrowing of her eyes, a barely perceptible twitch in her frown.

“Then why are you here?”

“Well,” Kara's relieved for the opportunity to drop the hardened reporter act, “you might not have proof, necessarily. But that doesn't mean there isn't a story here.” Dr. Hoshi looks like she's going to protest. “This is all off the record. I'm not on company time. Honest.” The other woman still regards her with suspicion.

“You came all the way out here, on your own time, just to talk...off the record?”

“I came 'all the way out here' to visit friends in California,” Kara corrects her. “This was on the way.”

Dr. Hoshi regards her for several long moments. Kara feels inclined to add, “I want to hear your side of this. Because...I think you deserve that chance.” She shrugs in what she hopes is a disarming manner. “And I'm just. Still a big fan of your work.”

This seems to be convincing enough for Dr. Hoshi to acquiesce to her presence. Not fully accept it, exactly. But. Tolerate it?

Which Kara can work with.

“Was doing,” Dr. Hoshi tells her, breezing past Kara and gesturing for her to follow. They enter a hallway off the main lobby and head deeper into the box-like building. Handcarts stacked high with half-packed boxes of broken and outdated instruments litter the spaces outside of large rooms that house the actual monitoring equipment: computers just as boxy and unremarkable as the cardboard boxes in the halls.

“This entire facility is obsolete,” Dr. Hoshi explains over her shoulder. “We're basically a glorified tax right-off.”

“They put you here to keep you quiet and out of the way,” Kara surmises. Dr. Hoshi nods.

“And I got tired of keeping quiet.”

Kara nods. She'd seen the 'tell-all' interview, an impassioned accusation on a local news channel that had stumbled its way on to the national news scene when a LexCorp lawyer happened to catch a rerun of the broadcast while holed up in a grimy motel off of 10. (Why a LexCorp lawyer was even in a grimy motel in Arizona in the first place was conveniently left out of the equation, no doubt thanks to LexCorp's not inconsiderable PR team.) Had the lawyer never seen the footage, it probably would've faded into obscurity. Some loony, local scientist claims big business stole her stuff.

Big whoop.

Dr. Hoshi flips on a light switch, and the dim set of fluorescent overhead lights are joined by a second set of equally dim fluorescence lights; these ones buzz louder, though.

“Do you think they'll fire you?” Kara asks, watching as Dr. Hoshi begins what looks like a routine check of the computers and recording apparatuses.

“No, not really,” she says with an air of grim acceptance. “It will be easier for them to blacklist me. I'll be forced to stay here, and they'll be able to keep an eye on me.” She pauses, and stares at the large arrays in the red expanse just outside of the building. There's a dull whine as they turn their large, concave faces to the east. Mechanized sunflowers, searching the starlight. “All these relics, constantly recording. And I'm the only thing here LexCorp cares about monitoring.” She says this quietly, more to herself than Kara.

Kara gives her a moment, not wanting to be rude as she gently continues her questions. “Do you know if LexCorp is using your technology currently? Do you know if they used it to track the Doomsday Event?”

“The Doomsday Event was a terrorist attack,” Dr. Hoshi parrots the widely-accepted official statement. Kara blinks, surprised to hear that line come from Dr. Hoshi.

“But what about Supergir—” Kara starts to say, only to swallow the rest of her sentence whole as Dr. Hoshi slowly turns.

“...What about Supergirl?” She asks, eyes narrowed. Kara frantically tries to think. She's only done a handful of interviews, and she can't remember. She can't remember...did she ever say it? Did she ever admit that she was an alien?

“I thought,” Kara clears her throat. “I thought she confirmed. That Doomsday was extraterrestrial.” She hopes Dr. Hoshi doesn't follow the news too closely; Kara never actually commented on the Doomsday Event.

“...Maybe she did,” Dr. Hoshi says with a shrug, turning her intense stare away from Kara. Kara breathes a little easier. “And maybe it was. But STAR Labs handled the autopsy, and they insist that whatever attacked Metropolis was human in origin. I know LexCorp tried to bully them into sharing access to their findings, but they were never successful.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, because I did some of the bullying.” Dr. Hoshi says. Kara's eyes widen. “But it became clear to me that they weren't going to budge, so I backed off, and focused on my own work. LexCorp 'locked down' my research shortly thereafter. Maybe in retaliation, for failing to procure the STAR Labs files. Or maybe because they felt they were falling behind in the new space race, and my insistence that we should proceed slowly and carefully and follow the science was too much of a hindrance.”

Dr. Hoshi's voice rises slightly as she ends her statement; it's the most emotion Kara's seen from her since she arrived, even more than the quiet suspicion of LexCorp's spying.

“...I'm sorry,” Kara says. And she means it.

Dr. Hoshi must sense this, because she lets out a very long sigh, and even offers a smile. It still carries that brittle quality, though. “Thank you.”

They share a moment of mutual silence before Dr. Hoshi turns to inspect the last computer.

“So, no. LexCorp was not using my work, prior to the Doomsday event. But they're almost certainly using it now.” She leans in close to the screen, and types something on the keyboard. “Or, they're leasing it to the military. We'll probably never know for sure, though.” She squints, and types another command in on the keyboard. “Odd...”

“What's odd?” Kara asks, moving to stand closer to the computer. There's a lot of information on the screen, but Kara can't decipher it. It just looks like a lot of random numbers and letters.

“This computer tracks our data here against the information gathered at the sister installation, down in Brazil. There's a lag, but the systems generally keep in sync, which we use to make sure everything's up and running properly.”

“So if they fall out of sync—”

“Something's broken.”

“It's not just...picking up space radio waves?”

Dr. Hoshi chuckles. “No. See this collection of data here?” She points to a set of numbers on the screen. Kara nods. “It's essentially too strong to be from space. Something is physically affecting an array.”

“Here?”

“No, down in Brazil.” Dr. Hoshi moves to the other side of the lab and grabs a phone from one of the desks. Kara hears the dial tone, and then the rapid succession of key tones.

She plans on listening to the entire call, of course—all the while making a show of how very interesting this computer screen is—until the conversation lapses into Portuguese. Kara winces.

Mental note: Learn Portuguese.

Given the tone of the individual on the other end of the line, Kara gets the sense that something is wrong. Maybe not catastrophically wrong, but the other scientist is clearly distressed. Dr. Hoshi says something that Kara assumes is meant to be assuring before ending the call.

“I'm sorry, Miss Kent, but I'm afraid we'll have to cut this visit short.”

Yes, we will. “That's okay, I understand,” Kara tells her as Dr. Hoshi leads her back into the hall. “Is everything alright?”

“There's some sort of...” Kara can see that the other woman is choosing her words carefully. “Mechanical problem, which means I get to look forward to a long evening of phone tag. Complete with international rates.” She smiles ruefully.  “Another tax write-off for LexCorp.”

Dr. Hoshi apologizes again for the abrupt end to the visit, but Kara is quick to remind her that this was unplanned.

“Now we're even,” Kara says, and Dr. Hoshi blinks at her in confusion. “Um. From when you called me, back when the article...never mind.”

Dr. Hoshi is kind enough to ignore the awkward moment, and simply wishes her well on her visit to California.

“Are you driving?” Dr. Hoshi asks as Kara digs her car keys out of her purse. Kara heads for the parking lot.

“Just a rental,” she says, holding up the key fob and the bright yellow tag attached to it. “I'm heading to the airport.”

“Have a safe flight, then.” Dr. Hoshi says, and returns to squat brick building.

Kara drives back into town and returns the car to the rental agency. That part wasn't a lie. And technically speaking, she is going to fly.

She finds a secluded spot, behind some buildings on the edge of town, and tugs at her shirt, revealing the primary-colored costume beneath.

Up, up, and away.

* * *

The only similarity between the Grand Mesa and the Montanha Verde SETI installations are the collection of large arrays flanking the main buildings; while Grand Mesa's surrounded by a vast sea of parched, red earth, Montanha Verde lives up to its name, nestled atop a collection of vibrant green foothills, the arrays dotting the terraced slope of the mountainside just above.

As Kara touches down on one of the far hills, she takes a quick x-ray scan of the building and the immediate surrounding area, mentally tallying the number of people onsite.

There are more techs here than at the Grand Mesa facility; she hurriedly does the math. If it comes down to it, she can clear the entire site in two minutes. Depending on wind speed, anyway.

She's hoping that won't be the case. As it turns out, 'mechanical failure' means that one of the arrays is on fire, and threatening to topple into an adjacent array, which is troubling enough on its own. More troubling, is the potential for the arrays to tumble down the mountainside, right into the back corner of the main building.

Easy fix, she decides as she (literally) flies into action. She decides against freeze breath, not wanting to damage the arrays further. Instead she flies in a tight circle around the flames, creating a vortex that robs them of oxygen. The flames die down almost instantly; she does send a light breeze in the direction of the singed metal, just to cool it down.

Once she's certain the nearby vegetation won't catch fire again, she lands, and pulls the leaning array back into position. She welds a quick patch into place—hardly a permanent solution, but better than simply hoping the compromised array won't fall over.

Some of the techs want to rush over as soon as they see her finish with the spot weld, but she holds up her hands, stay back! They nod, and keep a safe distance.

“Thank you,” they all start to talk over one another as she approaches, and that's the only phrase she can 1.) pick out and 2.) understand.

She underlines her mental note. Learn Portuguese!!

“You're welcome. I'm—sorry, I don't,” now only a few of the techs are talking, realizing that she's a little overwhelmed. “I don't speak—”

“Verde, verde,” Kara hears.

“Verde? Right, Montanha Verde,” she points over to the building, hoping she's understood. But one of them—a man with dark hair greying at the temples and a neatly trimmed beard—shakes his head profusely.

“Verde monstro.”

“Green...monster?” Kara can't imagine that word meaning anything else. The man doesn't confirm if she's translated correctly; he points farther down the ridge, past the land cleared for the facility, where the cropped vegetation gives way to actual jungle.

It's both the last thing Kara expects—this was supposedly just a mechanical failure, after all—and yet somehow, terribly fitting. Of course a 'green monster' would be the source of mysterious troubles at a SETI facility.

“I'll check it out,” Kara tells them, hoping her tone and facial expression help get the meaning across.  She takes off quickly, only to belatedly realize that perhaps it's not terribly wise, to charge into unfamiliar terrain.

It's not like there's anything on Earth that can hurt you, Kara reminds herself.

Still. She doesn't love the prospect of accidentally spooking a wild animal. She slows down and flies just above the canopy, keeping her eyes trained on the forest floor for any signs of...whatever tracks a green monster might make.

She keeps up the search for several hours, and tries not to think about the fact that this is a textbook case of needle in a haystack. She's not physically tired when she finally calls it quits, but   it's getting dark; the search is only going to become more and more difficult as the sun sinks lower in the sky.

She spots a clearing and drops into a quick landing, intent on checking the wristwatch she keeps in her cape pocket while there's still enough light to see. It's set to Metropolis time, and she's somewhere west of Belem, but what is that in terms of longitude—?

Kara doesn't notice it at first. Or, she does notice it, but it doesn't register until it's almost too late—she mentally cataloged it as just. Typical forest sounds.

But there's a pattern. A rhythm.

Footsteps.

Kara whirls and her heat vision goes off without conscious thought—just a bright beam of blue that shoots in whatever direction she's looking. A half-fallen tree branch bursts into flames.

“Argh!”

The yell isn't Kara's—a tall, something. Man? Stumbles back, away from the flame, bringing an arm up to shield his face.

Kara sends a gust of cold air on the flames, not wanting to create an international incident. Superhero Burns Down Amazon Rainforest by Accident is a headline Kara would very much like to avoid.

The man continues his frenzied retreat from the flames, only to stumble over a large exposed root. He lands on his back, hard.

“Please,” he says in a voice that is distinctly not human. “Please, do not kill me.”

He drops his arms, revealing his face. Green skin and bright red eyes.

Verde monstro.

Except, no. Not a monster. Not a monster at all; frightened and confused lab techs had, perhaps understandably, seen something unfamiliar, something monstrous among the flames. But Kara is not frightened and confused. Startled, maybe, but otherwise able to see how scared he is. She can hear it.

“I'm not going to kill you,” she tells him, holding out her hands in an open, non-threatening gesture. “I'm sorry about my—about the fire,” she apologizes. “That happens sometimes. When I'm scared.”

She doesn't move forward at all—she doesn't want to do anything that could be perceived as aggression. She lets him set the pace of this...encounter? Exchange? Whatever this is.

He uses the opportunity to climb to his feet, all the while keeping a close eye on her. He remains tense, arms bent in a defensive position.

“I'm—” Kara knows she should say Supergirl, but what comes out instead is, “Kara Zor-El. I'm here to help.”

He says nothing. They continue to stare at one another for a very long time.

After a small eternity, he finally speaks.

“My name is J'onn J'onzz,” he says. “And I don't think you can.”

* * *

Kara starts a fire—deliberately, and safely, this time—and invites J'onn to take a seat.

He does take a seat. About ten feet away from the flames.

“...You don't want to sit closer?” Kara asks. It's possible he's impervious to extreme temperatures, like her and Kal, but. If he sits closer to the light at least, the conversation might be a little less...spooky.

(Because, as much as Kara hates to admit it, she can understand why the lab techs were scared; J'onn's face is comprised of hard angles, and a long, ovular cranium. Not unlike the shape humans ascribe to the stereotypical 'Gray' aliens supposedly found at Roswell. But, more so than the harsh angles and green skin, Kara thinks perhaps they were mostly reacting to the glowing red eyes.)

“No,” J'onn says simply.

Kara nods. “Okay.”

Another small eternity passes. And then,

“My planet...burned to death.”

Kara stares at him across the flames, watching the shadows shift over his face as he pointedly turns away from the fire.

A heavy sadness settle in her chest.

“You're a refugee,” she says.

J'onn doesn't look at her. He keeps his face turned away. “Someone who is forced to leave their home to escape war, persecution, or a natural disaster,” he recites the definition. “Yes. I am.”

Kara takes a deep breath, reflexively reaching for the edge of her cape, to run her fingers of the corner. An outlet for her pent-up emotions. “I'm sorry,” she says quietly. “Did...did anyone else escape?”

“I am the last.”

Tears spring to Kara's eyes, the words landing on all the broken bits, the still-healing bits that she buries down deep inside. They press down hard and cause her to let out a watery chuckle, which J'onn probably thinks is extremely rude.

But he must see the glint of the firelight reflecting off her tears, because his expression is one of confusion, not outrage. And Kara then explains,

“Same, actually.”

The confusion lingers only a moment longer, before understanding sets in. He nods.

And then, slowly, he stands.

Kara watches, a little confused herself, until she sees him skirt the edge of the clearing, and come to sit fractionally closer to her. Still quite far from the flames, but. Most definitely closer.

“I'm...sorry.”

She wipes at her tears and takes a steadying breath. “Me too.”

* * *

It's weird. Not a bad weird, but certainly some kind of weird—two complete strangers sharing stories of lost home worlds around a campfire, somewhere at the edge of the Amazon Rainforest.

Kara can't remember which one of them started it. She thinks maybe it was J'onn who got the ball rolling, telling her a little bit about Mars. Not much; there was still a guarded element to his demeanor, and Kara would eventually come to understand that wariness was borne of having spent so long on Earth hiding. Decades to her fifteen or so odd years.

And then she started talking about Krypton. Really talking about Krypton. The blemished, imperfect Krypton that Kara had, perhaps a bit unintentionally, scrubbed clean for Kal's bedtime stories.

Talking with Kal...it was just stories. Because all he knew was Earth.

Talking with J'onn—he knew. He'd had friends, family, a daily routine. Favorite foods that could never be replicated, because the ingredients no longer existed.

“That's why I wanted Dr. Hoshi's work to succeed,” Kara finds herself explaining, as the conversation inevitably turns to how they both came to be in Brazil in the first place. “I mean. Obviously, it's going to be...a long time, before Earth reaches the point where they have the technology necessary for intergalactic communication, let alone travel, but...” she purses her lips, and stares into the flames. “I'd like to think that someday, aliens will just be a fact of life. And then...maybe...” she sighs. “Maybe. We won't have to hide.”

She can see J'onn shift in her peripheral vision.

“That is where we differ,” he says. “I've been on this planet a very long time. I don't think we'll ever be able to stop hiding.”

Kara wants to argue the point, but J'onn continues, “There's a group that's been following me. Hunting me. I don't know how they're managing to track me.” J'onn looks off in the direction of the SETI facility. “I...overheard, that they were planning to make use of facilities like the one on that mountain ridge. If not to track us on this planet, then to track those like us before they even arrive.”

“Is that...” Kara swallows. “Why you...”

“I didn't want to injure anyone, I only wanted to disable their tools.” J'onn tells her, and Kara can't help that her first thought is one of stern judgement, that he's basically admitted to destroying private property, and by extension, potentially endangering all those people. “But I miscalculated, and the dish caught fire.” He takes a breath. “So I ran.”

“I...I understand your...” Kara doesn't think concern is the right word to use. “...Fear. I do. Really.” And she does. It's now, in her adulthood, that she's recognizing that it was not normal or healthy, for a thirteen-year-old to live with the constant background radiation of worry that a shadowy government organization could come snatch her or Kal at any time, with no warning or consequence. “But we can't just assume that everyone—that they're all like the group that's—” hunting, stalking, preying, “following you.”

“You have not encountered these people,” Kara can see that J'onn is making an effort to respond calmly. His shoulders tense, and his hands curl into fists. “You do not understand.”

It's a sobering reminder, one that Kara doesn't counter, even though she'd really like to. As alike as they are, they've also led very, very different lives. Kara has to respect that.

“You're right,” is what she decides to go with. “I'll never fully understand, and I'm sorry, for everything you've had to endure.”

“...Thank you.”

* * *

WHUP, WHUP, WHUP.

Kara grumbles in irritation. Her apartment building is 'centrally located, close to public transit, ideal for commuters,' which is realtor speak for: overlooks the elevated train tracks of the city's metro system on one side, and the approach to the Monarch Bridge on the other. So if it's not the sound of the yellow line waking her in the morning, it's the sound of a traffic copter, covering rush hour.

She reaches for her quilt, intent on burrowing beneath the covers to try and catch a few more minutes of sleep.

The quilt feels. Weirdly like her cape? That's—

She's awake in an instant, as the sounds of the helicopter become impossibly loud and close. She's not in her apartment; she's in Brazil—her and J'onn had talked so long, that she ended up deciding to simply catch an hour or so of sleep before heading back to the states, just before dawn. J'onn had offered to stick around and keep watch, 'just in case.'

Kara thought it was both courteous and maybe a little unnecessary at the time.

Boy, does she feel foolish.

“It's them,” J'onn says in a strained voice, eyes trained on the sky. “I have to go.”

He's already turning to head deeper into the jungle. Kara jumps to her feet, shaking off leaves and dirt.

“Wait, wait, there has to be...something we can do—” Kara says, rushing after him, but as she says it, she thinks, what? What can we do? Talk to them? Fight them? She's not even sure who this 'them' is. She's only heard J'onns vague accounts of their various encounters, and she gets the sense that he doesn't really know who they are, either.  

“Don't involve yourself in this,” J'onn says, not bothering to look back at her as he speaks. “You're fortunate, you look like them. You have a life to go back to.” The words are painful to hear, but probably even more painful for J'onn to say, and they aren't untrue. “So, go.”

But Kara won't. She can't.

“Let me help you, at least,” Kara insists, reaching out to try and touch J'onn's shoulder. The movement makes him turn, causing him to slow.

There's a sharp Crack! followed by a terrible sound of wet impact. J'onn grunts, and falls to his knees.

“J'onn!” Kara cries out in concern, stooping to support him before he falls forward completely. A figure emerges from the dense brush and trees.

“Supergirl, what an unexpected surprise.” Kara looks up to see a black man dressed in camouflage fatigues, holding a semi-automatic weapon. The tag above his left breast pocket reads: H. Henshaw. “Didn't know you were hunting this monster as well.”

J'onn lets out another pained grunt. Kara helps him to apply pressure on the wound on his abdomen. “Do I know you?”

“No, but we know you,” Henshaw says with a terrible grin. “It's our business, to know all about our...” he pauses, and brings up his gun to train the sight on J'onn. “Strange visitors, from other planets.”

Kara positions herself between Henshaw and J'onn. “Are you CIA? Military?”

“I'm afraid that's classified information,” Henshaw says. “Move.”

“I'm not going to let you kill him,” Kara says fiercely.

“Careful, Supergirl,” Henshaw growls, tightening his grip on his gun. “So early in your career...do you really want to make yourself an enemy of the state?”

Kara doesn't know how to respond; she's desperately trying to think through this. Trying to see all the angles, all the potential consequences, instead of rushing in. (As she's prone to do.) But she can hear J'onn's labored breathing, her attention thus divided, her mind running in too many different directions.  

Henshaw must mistake her hesitation for defiance. “Alright, let's try something else. Move, or I'll have a group of agents at that quaint little farm of yours faster than you can blink.”

Kara can't stop the strangled choking noise that works its way out of her mouth—no, no, she was so careful, she'd always been so careful...

You never should have become Supergirl, she thinks, but then, as she continues to stare, wide-eyed at Henshaw's face, she has a horrifying realization that he looks familiar. She's seen him before. Somewhere. Some--

A memory. Smallville. Shortly after her and Kal had landed, going into town with Martha, having pancakes at the diner before finishing their errands...

A couple of guys in suits at the far end of the restaurant. She caught their eyes a few time, but thought it was a fluke. An awkward, accidentally moment of eye contact.

But it wasn't. It wasn't a fluke, it wasn't an accident, they had found them. They'd known all along. But how?! She thinks, borderline hysterical. How had they evaded her detection? She has super-hearing! She can see through walls!

It's a struggle to simply breathe through the panic and processing; she doesn't notice as Henshaw loads a new cartridge into his gun—one that gives off a subtle glow in the milky, pre-dawn light.

He's about to fire, but there's a roar from behind Kara.

“Wha—no!” Henshaw yells as J'onn barrels into him. They both tumble further into the trees. Kara forces her mind to stop spinning in frenzied circles long enough to clamber unsteadily to her feet. They've known, they've always known—

Focus! She tells herself, and charges after the two men. She can hear them before she sees them, the grunting, the struggling, another gunshot.

Someone yells—Henshaw. But the yelling fades, like he's—

She's spotted them now. She surges forward through a tight knot of trees. J'onn is slumped at the edge of a cliff.

Henshaw is not with him.

“He...he went over, I wasn't—” J'onn tries to say, but he's breathing heavily, and still clutching his side. “—Not strong enough, not fast enough to pull him back—”

He passes out, at that point. She approaches the edge of the cliff, just enough to see that it's...a very long way down.

She presses the back of her fist to her mouth, eyebrows drawing together in distress as she imagines the fall. She proceeds no further. There's no need.

Instead, she picks J'onn up as gently as she can, and extends her hearing as far as it will go. The helicopter has landed a few miles to the south, and she can hear two separate scouting parties.

They need to leave.

They also need to...figure out what to do about these people, the ones who have been following J'onn, and apparently Kara as well.

...One crisis at a time, Kara decides.

She takes off, her speed probably more than a little reckless, but she needs to get J'onn help. And fast.

...She just hopes that the Danvers know as much about patching up Martians as they do about patching up Kryptonians.

* * *

Alex usually isn't allowed to have a second juice box, but she takes her chances asking mom if it would be okay. After all, Kara is visiting, and when Kara visits, sometimes the rules change a little bit.

Like getting a second juice box.

(She checks to see if any of the grown-ups are looking, before quickly grabbing a third juice box that she stuffs under her sweatshirt.)

She makes sure to close the refrigerator before hurrying past the dining room, where Kara and her parents are. They don't notice her, which is okay—they're really busy talking.

So she continues on her way to the family room. It's a little messier than normal, and for once, it isn't because Alex has forgotten to clean up her toys. Instead, there are Band-Aids and stuff all over. She's careful not to disturb anything—it's all stuff that only the grown-ups are allowed to use, and she's already sneaking juice boxes, so. Best not to break any more rules.

She settles herself on the couch, fluffing a pillow, and getting comfortable before she turns her attention to her juice box. She pulls off the straw and bites through the plastic wrapper.

The big green man that Kara brought with her stirs at the other end of the couch.

“Wanna juice box?” Alex asks, removing the super-secret extra one from under her sweatshirt. “It's fruit punch.”

The big green man blinks at her with his glowing red eyes. Christmas colors, Alex thinks.

“Fruit...punch?”

“It's really good,” Alex explains. “Because it has all the fruits. Together.”

She offers it to him. He looks at it for a second, before reaching out to take it.

“...Thank you.”

“Welcome,” Alex says. She starts on her own juice box, then realizes the green man is still staring at his. “Oh. You gotta—” Alex reaches over and pulls off the straw to hand it to him. He takes it, but he stares at that too. So she reaches over again and takes the straw, slamming it on the coffee table to get it to pop up out of the plastic.

She sets the wrapper off to the side, and gives him the straw once more. “Now poke it through the silver dot.” She points to the top of the juice box.

The green man follows her instructions. The straw slides into place. “Yeah. Like that.”

She watches as he takes a hesitant sip. The juice box trembles a little in his grip, but that's probably because he was hurt earlier, and is still getting better.

“It is...very good.” He says after several more sips. Alex smiles.

“Toldja.”

They sit side by side, enjoying their juice boxes in companionable silence. As Alex finishes her own, the cardboard crumpling as she noisily slurps the last fruity drops, she says, “My name's Alex.”

“I'm J'onn J'onzz,” the man says.

“Are you from Krypton, like Kara?”

“...No...I'm from Mars.”

“Oh.” Alex nods. “Okay.” She looks down at her hands, and counts on her fingers. “My...very...educated...mother...” She looks up. “That's right next to Earth!” she smiles. “Like a next-door neighbor.”

“...Yes,” J'onn agrees.

She looks over to see that he's finished his juice box, too. “Want another one? Mom will probably say it's okay, because you're sick.”

J'onn regards his empty juice box. “Would it also be...fruit punch?”

“Yeah.”

“...Then yes, please.” He gives her a small smile. “I would like another juice box.”

* * *

It takes J'onn two days to recover. It's mostly thanks to his own healing ability—Eliza and Jeremiah do as much as they can for him, but their resources are limited.

So, he spends the two days sleeping in their guest bedroom. Kara spends those two days thanking Eliza and Jeremiah profusely.

“I owe you guys,” she tells them.

“You can pay us back in juice boxes,” Jeremiah says.

J'onn is up and about by day three, and pretty much immediately insists on leaving.

“I'm a danger to you all, staying here.” The Danvers try to reassure him that, it's fine, that he doesn't need to feel like he has to flee into the night.

But. Kara had told them. About the man, Henshaw, and what he had revealed to her, when he'd cornered them in the jungle.

“They probably know about you, too,” Kara admits with a grim expression. “I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be,” Eliza says with a firm shake of her head. “We were well aware of the risks, when you came to us after the Doomsday Event.”

“But J'onn's right,” Kara says. “It's dangerous—”

“Then it's a good thing we've got a Kryptonian on speed-dial,” Jeremiah interrupts with a grin.  

“Still, I understand why he's anxious to go,” Eliza concedes. “Is there anything we can do to help him?”

Kara admits she isn't sure, and is determined to find out. Which is how she finds herself in the Danvers' backyard, joining J'onn in quietly admiring the sunset.

“I've never been able to just,” he takes a long, deep breath. “Enjoy this planet.”

Kara nods in somber understanding. But then adds, “One of the things Earth has going for it,” she smiles. “It's beautiful.”

“It is.”

Encouraged by his agreement, Kara continues, “And a lot of the people on this planet...are really wonderful too.”

She braces for an argument. But,instead, J'onn looks down at his hand, and Kara realizes he's holding a juice box.

“I still have a hard time believing that,” he says. “...But I would like to try.”

She nods again. “The Danvers want to help,” Kara tells him, crossing her arms over her shirt. She's not in costume. Standing next to J'onn, though, with his regal blue cape and dark, armored suit, she feels under dressed. “We all want to help. However we can.”

“That group...I think they're called the D.E.O.”

Kara frowns. “How do you know that?”

“I heard one of the other agents,” he says, which Kara finds strange. She'd heard the agents too, but they'd mostly just been whispering commands and confirming locations, entirely in code; she hadn't heard any of them openly discussing specifics.

But then, maybe he meant he'd heard it during one of their earlier encounters.

“They'll be looking for Henshaw.”

She turns away from him. “There's no way he survived that fall,” she says in a low voice, trying not to think of the man's grizzly fate. She's still horrified by what Henshaw told her, and she got the impression that the man took a sickening glee in the prospect of killing J'onn—and possibly any alien they deemed 'too powerful' to conceivably coexist with humanity in peace. But still. It was a gruesome end, one Kara wouldn't wish on anyone.  

“I'm going to take his place,” J'onn says suddenly.

Kara starts. “What?”

She turns back to face him and he's—something's happening. There's a red glow that envelopes his entire body, and J'onn's face fades away, replaced by the face of Hank Henshaw.

Kara gapes.

“I've thought about this,” he says, “If Henshaw is listed as 'MIA', or worse, it they find and identify his remains at the bottom of that ravine, they'll intensify their search, maybe even respond more harshly to perceived 'threats'.

“But if I take his place...I can divert their entire operation. Change it from the inside.” Kara's trying to focus on his plan, because, as wild as it is, it's...admittedly a very good one. It would potentially solve...a lot of problems.

...But she's silently freaking-out, just a little. J'onn just—dead! Dead guy! Dead guy, standing here, talking to me! “I can make it safer on this planet, for people like us.”

“That's—you—” Kara shakes her head. “You can shapeshift???”

J'onn smiles.

“I can also read minds.”

* * *

“—and she didn't come back, but satellite imagery suggests she left Brazil alive, with an injured civilian. They entered U.S. airspace that morning.”

“...I see.”

“Did you get the reports on the array? The damage was surprisingly minimal.”

“...I did get the reports, but I still need to look them over.” She ends the conversation abruptly, knowing she'll have to apologize to Dr. Silva later.

But she doesn't really care.

Because how was it, that within hours—hours—of speaking off the record with Kara Kent about an incident at the Montanha Verde installation, Supergirl arrived at that very same location, without any explanation as to how she knew they were in trouble, how she even knew where to go?

The obvious explanation is that Kara leaked the story to someone with connections to Supergirl. Or maybe Kara herself was in contact with the superhero.

Or.

Or.

Dr. Hoshi retreats to her office. A sparse room consisting of a desk, a chair, and a meticulously organized bookshelf. It's free of any personal touches—Kimiyo remembers feeling like it would have been admitting defeat, to settle down here. To invest in the lie LexCorp was building, about her. Her career.

Normally, the sight of the office simply depresses her. Now?

She finds herself growing angry.

She sits at the desk, and thinks. Kara Kent had always been so invested in their work. Kara Kent had come here, unannounced, and had basically received a VIP tour, getting an up-close look at their monitoring equipment. (However rudimentary and obsolete it may be.)

And there was that business about the Doomsday Event. And Supergirl.

Supergirl...who went to help with the damaged array. The damaged array that Kimiyo had specifically mentioned.

To Kara Kent.

...A crazy theory, she decides. But then, how many widely accepted scientific truths began as mere crazy theories?

She just has to test it.

But to test a crazy theory, you need funding. And resources.

She looks around the small, bleak office.

She reaches for the phone on her desk. Dials a familiar number.

The call is picked up on the second ring.

“Kimiyo, hello. What a pleasant surprise,” the greeting is not delivered with any sort of sincerity. “Has E.T. phoned home yet?”

Kimiyo refuses to dignify the stupid joke with a response. “I want out of here, Lex.”

“You're welcome to tender your resignation at any time.”

“I know how we can get back at STAR Labs,” Kimiyo says.

The line goes quiet for a time.

“I'm listening.”

“It's just a theory, at this point. I'd need to test it...I'd need—”

“Access to your research? Your old lab?” his tone is mocking.

“And money.”

“Natch.”

“You wanted Doomsday, right?”

“...You have something on Doomsday?”

“No,” Kimiyo admits, and Lex makes an irritated noise. “...I might have something on Supergirl.”

She waits for his response.

There's a chuckle. A laugh. A guffaw, and she's certain she's blown her chance at redemption, that she's destroyed her career for a record second time in the space of three years.

But then he speaks.

“That's even better.”

Dr. Hoshi takes a steadying breath.

“So we have a deal?”

Lex Luthor laughs, in a manner most unsettling.

“Oh, yes.”

* * * 

NOTES:

- I generally try to keep the notes to a minimum but THIS ONE’S GONNA NEED SOME EXPLANATION - It took me forever to decide on when J’onn appears in the CAK universe. I had initially planned on just using the date and circumstances from the show, essentially replacing Jeremiah with Kara. - Buuuuuut that would mean J’onn would arrive when Alex was a teenager, and the thought of Smol Alex inspiring J’onn to have faith in humanity was. Too compelling of a notion to pass up. XD  - So this kind of contradicts events in ‘the one where alex saves the world’ but those inconsistencies can be handwaved away with: Alex wasn’t aware that her cool Martian friend she met One Time is the same guy as Kara’s grumpy colleague from the DEO.  - TIMELINE CHECK: This takes place before, and then after ‘the one with the beginning’ (AKA the Doomsday one.) - As always: the science is just pure made-up nonsense, cobbled together from light Googling and my vague recollections of Contact. - Kara finds J’onn in Brazil as opposed to Peru because I definitely misremembered episode 1x17.  - And SPEAKING OF, if the whole trip seems contrived and like it was meant to be the beginning of a much longer plot/mystery, that’s because it was, but I lost the notes to what I had initially planned.  

[golly-ollie]

The Terrific Fairfield Hotel Characters

Description A bunch of writers get trapped in a seemingly haunted hotel, where their stories appear to becoming reality. Unable to leave due to a contact they signed, they have to figure out what’s going on and what happened to the previous guests.

Characters below the cut for convenience

Main Characters

Sadhbh O’Connor | She/her | 23 Sadhbh is a writer lacking the inspiration to continue writing her mystery thriller series. At the prodding of her mother and agent, she applied to the Fairfield Hotel Experience for Writers and ended up getting a spot, as well as a contract stating that she wouldn’t be able to leave the program after the 5 day trial period unless she finished a functioning draft for her next novel. While she doesn’t particularly like the idea, she’s going through a rough patch and has really nothing else to do. 

Darby del Bianco | He/Him | 25 Darby is a current guest at the hotel, and out of all of them has been there the longest. Within the year he’s been there, he has been absolutely convinced that the place is haunted and the staff are in on it....or something. Still stuck in the program himself and not in enough perceived peril to break his contract and- in his mind -get sued, he’s stuck around the hotel trying to pen out his next romantic comedy novel and freak people out during their 5 day trial period to get them to leave. It hasn’t been successful. He’s rather bad at it.

Olivia Harrington | She/Her | 22 The newest guest, Sadhbh aside, is Olivia who has been there for 2 months. Unlike the others, she hasn’t actually published anything yet other than putting fanfiction on the internet. That aside, she’s trying her best to get ideas rolling for an original novel. Unlike Darby, she has loved the experience so far, and finds his vocal paranoia a bit amusing.

Kel Irving | They/Them | 27 Kel is a laid back sci-fi writer with major procrastination issues. Getting ideas and concepts isn’t the problem- getting them on the paper is. They haven’t been able to finish anything past their first book, as they keep getting distracted and then losing interest in their original concepts. Then, they get a new one and the cycle continues. They’ve been milling around the hotel for around 6 months, but nothing has really changed; they’ve spent most of their time bothering the other guests.

Janet Mayview | She/her | 23 Janet has had the particular problem of not being able to come up with a purely original idea (not that those really exist). Every time she tries to write something, she finds another story that has a similar concept and ends up throwing the whole thing out. She’s been there the second longest, around 8 months, and is probably the only one that entertains Darby’s theories. 

Side Characters

Mackenzie ‘Mack’ Fairfield | He/Him | 26 Mack is the cheerful eldest child of the owners of the hotel. Seeing as he isn’t a writer- and has no interest in being such -he is allowed to come and go from the hotel for longer periods of time than the guests, who are allowed to leave for short excursions but, at the end of the day, live in the building. Despite being not really allowed to hang around the guests, he does anyway, and can usually be found sitting around with Janet and Darby. He’s also in charge of manning the front desk and taking any complaints guests might have.

Beckett ‘Beck’ Fairfield | They/Them (Preferred), She/Her | 24 Beck is the youngest child of the Fairfields, and, according to Darby, the more ‘suspicious’ one. They have a tendency to appear out of nowhere and startle people, though it doesn’t appear to be on purpose. They don’t interact with guests as much as their brother. Employment-wise, they work in the kitchen and help with cooking the food, though both they and Mack are slated to take over the hotel eventually.

Claire Asbern | She/Her | 24 Claire is one of the employees of the hotel, and helps out with cleaning the place as well as helping guests move in and fixing any complaints they might have. She’s Mack’s favorite employee, which is shown very clearly when he picks her to help him with just about everything. She actually lives in the hotel, because she was offered a room by the owners a while into her employment when she was evicted from the apartment she was staying in.

[pangolin-404]

I really like seeing people interpret who turns into what post-ink. Shawn often ends up a Piper, Lacie ends up a Fisher or animatronic, and Grant ends up a Striker. Which is fascinating particularly on Grant's case because I have no idea where it came from. We only have two audio logs for him and one is literally just the sounds of him dying. He just happens to fit into the three musketeers slot alongside other the other studio staff that don't appear in-game.

The only info about him is in the employee handbook, which very few people really talk about, so it can't have that much information. He's one of the staff we know the least about.

Anyways I want to rant about my Grant because he's a disaster, so:

His crippling self doubt is one of the only things keeping him from quitting JDS. He snarks about Joey behind his back, mostly to himself when he thinks nobody's watching.

Drinks more coffee than Jack, which is a lot of coffee. His caffeine addiction doesn't help his self worth. He literally can't function without it, or he'll get splitting migraines worse than what he usually gets. He doesn't want to keep getting up to get more, so he stews in his own exhaustion after he downs a cup.

Sleep? He practically lives at the studio, and his apartment is honestly not that much better than his office. He commonly experiences all the fun side effects of sleep deprivation: Walls, floor, and ink seem to move and 'swim', hallucinates things in his peripherals, looses his balance easily, he can barely focus on whatever he's looking at

He works best and most efficiently when he's well rested and. Y'know, prepared for the day. So while usually he's very good at math and financing, over time he gets worse and worse and his mistakes pile up

Joey's spending, low pay, and willful ignorance of advice led to Accounting going empty. Grant is the only one left.

His workspace is a mess. You can barely see the floor under all the spilled ink, discarded papers, unfinished taxes and bills, apology letters never sent out to the employees, etc

He's introverted and constantly worries over what people think of him. He overthinks every little thing and worries he could be coming off as rude, disinterested, etc.. He never starts conversations and struggles to keep a conversation going.

He doesn't have any friends, and Jack is the one he's closest to, just because they see each other in the break room for coffee refills occasionally

Joey just. Doesn't get money. Taxes, bills, paychecks, it all kinda goes over his head and he's very blunt about not wanting to learn. He believes everything can be fine as long as you dream hard enough

Needless to say Grant loathes him

But he also wants to please him, so. He does his best. He cuts corners and tries to delay bills as much as he can, and his inability to fix everything leads to him constantly feeling inadequate.

Norman and Bertrum scrutinized him to the point of paranoia. Norman was just trying to figure him out and psychoanalyze him from a distance, and backed off after a while. Bertrum wanted to thump him over the head for Bendy Land's tiny budget. He never quite let it go.

Lets out stress by scribbling nonsense on the back of unimportant papers. He probably just draws repeating patterns like mandalas and stuff like that

He's got jittery hands from stress and coffee. His handwriting is shaky and practically unreadable if he doesn't concentrate on making it neat

Has probably drank ink on accident before. Gotten an ink well confused with his mug, y'know. Never noticed it, but it's happened more than once and probably contributed to him looking like a ghost.

Talks to himself. Especially closer to his end, he'll mumbled and rave to himself about Joey and his own flaws. He'll calculate things aloud to focus on what's actually in front of him.

After the Inkening™, which will be explored in the Money prompt for the Ink Demonth, he becomes skittish and distrustful

Long story short, he was practically dead when the ink claimed him. He's in a weird unique limbo that can be lumped with Lacie and Sammy as creatures that are neither searcher nor lost one. He can't hold himself together physically, but he's somewhat there mentally. He's probably been in the well a lot due to his fragility. Hell, scaring him badly enough could get the well to yoink him.

Ink Grant is...very good at hiding. And camouflage. To say the least.

He'll 'collect' things he comes across. Paper, mostly. Or glass. Sometimes whole wooden planks. Occasionally he'll pick up a plush or cog, but those are heavy and weirdly shaped and don't stick to him as well. Ha...ha ha h a. a shapeless sticky man

He doesn't interact with ANYONE. The transition between studio and hellscape was violent for him. He doesn't remember his co-workers much if at all. He flees or hides at the sight of searchers or the Butcher Gang.

Hearing his audio log played stresses him out to the point of becoming potentially violent. Any forceful reminder of who he once was leads to hostility

He still likes doing math as an ink creature! He tried redoing what old finances he could find, but he only succeeded in going off the deep end because his scrambled mind isn't the best at attempting to sort out Joey's finances.

The mad writing was post-ink(see point above)

He's essentially the Jack Fain of Heavenly Toys. Lurks between the walls and just exists in level S. Alice isn't aware of his existence. Nor is anyone else.

After a Certain Event™ that is basically my AU's chapter 4 ending, he is chased out of hiding and runs into Lacie. If he were human, the sight of her probably would've put him into cardiac arrest, so ink him doesn't react well to her either. Though that isn't set in stone because chapter 4 is when everything goes off the rails and subject to change

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Dearest Readers,

I know I’ve been absent during this quarantine and for that I’m sorry. It’s been pretty crazy to have to do distance learning with my six-year-old, but we’re getting by. I’ll be honest, I almost messaged the amazing @thefanficfaerie​ to tell her that I wouldn’t be able to do this, but the more I realized that I hadn’t created in what seemed like forever and thought about how much I missed interacting with you guys on here, the more I wanted to complete this challenge.

So I did what I always do, I sat down with three loose-leaf sheets and played “Penny and Me” by Hanson on a loop until this came out. I didn’t intend to be so on the nose with this one nor did I intend to use our current situation with covid19 in the fic, but here we are. Thank you so so much to @thefanficfaerie​ for creating this challenge! Also, thank you so much to @italiandoll1129​ for betaing this little diddy. I hope you guys enjoy this little imagine and I hope you’re all doing well and staying safe <3

Sinceriously,

Amanda

Your life up to the point when the world stopped had largely been made up of acoustics and half note runs. Countless moments captured in a simple bar, a single verse, a reprised chorus. Music was your lifeblood, the ticking of the muscle that resided deep in your chest and then--just a few short weeks ago--silence. The world stopped turning, life as you knew it upended, and the music in your soul faded without refrain. It seemed survival had been triggered when the governor implemented a stay-at-home order and music became little more than a distant memory of better days.

   Rafael had been more than annoyed at the disruption of his carefully crafted schedule, but had it not been for his steadfast reasoning and patience you surely would have sunk deep into the dark, bottomless pit of despair and hopelessness. Your loving, quick-witted ADA was the brain that steadied the storm in your heart. Had it not been for him you surely would have crumbled into a useless mess by day two of quarantine. Not that you weren’t on the edge every second of the day, but at least you were sure that if you did fall apart, Rafael would be there to put you back together again.

   You sat on the bumped out window seat in the corner of the living room, pillow in your lap, sipping your mug of home-brewed coffee, staring at the lifeless street below. New York City had never been so quiet, but now all of its residents waited with bated breath for the virus that had halted all to pass. Even the criminal world seemed to be practicing social distancing, though an uptick in domestic violence was certainly keeping Rafael busy. For the creatives of the world, however, the coronavirus seemed to slowly poison the well of inspiration, leaving little else aside from disconnection and isolation despite the countless public figures proclaiming “alone, together.” Or whatever they were saying.

   “Mi amor?” You heard Rafael’s voice from down the hall and let your forehead gently touch the cold, glass surface of the window as your eyes closed. “Y/N, we should go to the store today and pick up a few things, what do you think?”

   You inhaled through your nose and turned your head to look back at him, offering a weak smile. “Yeah, maybe they’ll have toilet paper this time.” How had toilet paper become more valuable than the dollar bill seemingly overnight?

   Closing the distance between the two of you, your boyfriend brought the back of his fingers to your cheek, corner of his lips quirking upward. His touch had always been enough to calm the emotional tornado that stress brewed inside you. Especially lately, you had become acutely aware of his ability to make you believe that everything would be alright.

   “This is all temporary,” he would say. It never took very much convincing on his part as long as his skin was making contact with yours.

   “We still have plenty for at least a week or two,” he said as he moved to sit on the other side of the window seat, facing you.

   Pursing your lips, you nodded. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra on hand, just in case.” You tried to leave it at that instead of allowing a worst-case-scenario to form in your mind. The governor’s instructions had been clear: stay home, wash your hands, social distance until the curve flattened, remain calm. Despite your own paranoia, the world was not actually on fire...or if it was at least it wouldn’t be forever, and in truth as long as you had Rafael by your side, all would be well. Though it was times like this that made you wish you believed in God. There were moments when you envied Rafael in that sense; most of all now, when a magical sky-daddy would be a welcomed reprieve from the ever-rising death toll and unemployment rates.

   “Honey, we have to stay calm and not panic-buy, okay?” Rafael said, reaching for your hand. “You should try to keep yourself busy. You know how your anxiety gets when you sit still for too long without something to focus on.”

   “I know, I just…” You ran a hand through your hair and grimaced when you realized you hadn’t showered the day before. “I can’t slow my brain enough to create anything coherent.”

   “So create something incoherent,” he suggested with a bob of his shoulders. “Or, instead of writing music, why don’t you just play some songs you enjoy or learn to play one?” You could sense your lips trying to form a smile as your thumb stroked over the skin between his knuckles. “I just know how important music is in your life. It always makes you feel better.”

   “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you said in a whisper as your eyes fell to your joined hands. “Maybe I could go live on Instagram,” you added carefully. “I’ve seen a lot of people talking about how scared they are, too.”

   He narrowed his eyes. “I thought we agreed you should stay off social media for now.”

   In the beginning of your self-isolation, you spent nearly every waking minute refreshing your Twitter and Instagram feeds, which in turn, had served only to fuel your anxiety and almost caused a panic attack. The logical thing was to avoid social media; the daily press conferences and videos from Philip DeFranco were more than enough to keep you updated on the situation without causing you to cry yourself to sleep because Dr-Random-Twitter-Handle had posted about his hospital’s desperate need for PPE, and how a portion of his staff had become sick, which would convince you that this was in fact the end of the world and there was literally nothing that could be done to stop it.

   So yeah, no social media had been the plan.

   However, your desire to share music had been a part of you since you could remember, and especially at a time like this, music could be the very thing to soothe people’s fears, even if only a little bit.

   “I know but I can’t help but wonder whether playing where other people can hear would help in some small way,” you said. 

    Rafael lowered his eyes as if in thought, nodding once. “What if you opened the window so the neighbors could hear?” His gaze came back to meet yours. “It’s been pretty quiet the last few weeks.”

   It had been quiet in the neighborhood since all the bars and clubs shut down, including Penny and Me’s, the bar just downstairs that normally featured live music, which would fill the entire neighborhood and carry over to the next block. You smiled at your boyfriend.

   “You don’t think people might get annoyed?”

   “No,” he answered. “I think people are reaching for as many positive things as they can get. And some music, especially when the neighborhood has been so eerily quiet, might be just the thing that makes them feel normal again. Even if it’s only for a moment.”

   You eyed your guitar in the far corner of the living room, leaning against the bookcase that held countless escapes into other worlds. Normally when reality came to be too much, a mix of other worlds and strums on your guitar would be enough to keep you from losing it completely. But right then, when the world as you knew it was forever changed, you couldn’t justify leaving it, even to save your sanity.

   “And,” Rafael added. “If anyone complains, they’ll have me to deal with.”

   You snorted, standing and opening the window before you went to pick up your guitar. Sitting back on the window seat, you took your time tuning it while your eyes periodically wandered, looking for an idea of what song to play. From the corner of your eye, you saw Rafael take out his phone, tap his screen a few times before he held it up. You knitted your brows at him; wasn’t he just trying to talk you out of going live?

   “I just realized your family might want to hear you play,” he said as though he’d been inside your head. “What are you gonna play, corazon?”

   “I don’t know.” Your gaze fell on the unlit, cursive lettering on the building across the street and the familiar chalkboard by the door that now read, “Stay home. Stay safe.”

   With a gentle smile, you began to strum an intro of chords, the beginning of a song that was written strictly as a love letter to music, highlighting the importance of a song in our hearts and how a simple, familiar melody could remind us of our favorite moments in our lives. Music, without which the world would be a much darker place, the one thing that in an instant could heal a hole in your heart, the thing that often formed fond memories of nights up late by the fireplace. Music that could speak for you with such clarity if you had trouble forming words.

   “That’s not obvious at all,” Rafael mumbled after hearing you sing the first chorus.

   “Hush, you,” you replied quickly, not missing a single strum. “Cause Penny and Me like to roll the windows down…”

   As you sang through the full chorus, a second voice joined in from below. Rafael carefully stepped closer to the window, mindful to keep his phone pointed in your direction as he leaned to stick his head out the open square.

   “Lawrence?” you heard him call out between lyrics.

   “Hey Rafael!” the voice replied. “And Penny and Me like to gaze at starry skies…”

   Your ADA chuckled under his breath when a third voice sounded from further down the building, and a fourth from above. By the time you reached the bridge, it was as though half the block joined in. Your focus was on keeping time with your strums against the strings, but your skin had prickled into goosebumps at the sound of your neighbors singing along with you. 

   For the first time since you’d been stuck inside, it actually felt like despite the fact that you were all self-isolating, none of you were alone. In that moment, the entire block of 82nd street was one, singing through their pain and loneliness, belting their affections for each other simply by joining you in a cover of an early 2000s tune by one of the original popstars of the 90s. Through the final chorus you could hear the longing, the desire to be together truly once again, going to Penny and Me’s for a drink after a long week and weaving in and out of clusters of people on the sidewalk to get home after it got late. It reminded you that New Yorkers were fighters, that you had all seen worse than this pandemic and that one day soon you would be reminiscing about where you were during the 2020 pandemic that had paused the world and forced people to appreciate each other just a little bit more. The time when music, as always, kept you connected while you distanced.

   “Do you think this is going to go viral?” Rafael asked no one in particular after you’d played the final chord of the song. 

   “I don’t think so, it’s a fairly obscure song,” you answered with a grin as you leaned back against the window sill, allowing the breeze to blow strands of hair against your face. 

   “Still,” Rafael mumbled as he tagged your parents in the post and, at your request, tagged the song and the virus for easy reference if you needed a pick-me-up later in the night. “Okay, I’m gonna head out to the store. Did you wanna come?”

   “I think I’m gonna stay here,” you answered, rolling your head to one side until your eyes met his. “I should clean the bathroom...and myself. Then afterward, I might try to work on some more music.”

   The smirk you knew all too well flashed in your direction as he closed the space between you to kiss your forehead. “Maybe without the window being open. The neighbors didn’t mind a song they knew, but the last thing we’d want is to disrupt their marathon of Tiger King.”

   “Speaking of which, they added an episode,” you said.

   “They did?”

   “Yep, Carol Baskins isn’t in it though, from what I’ve heard,” you said.

   “Fucking Carol Baskins. Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, tops,” he said, going to the door and putting on his coat. “When I get back, I think we should make dinner and watch that episode.”

   “And after that?”

   He bobbed his shoulders. “You’ve been trying to get me to watch Lost for years. Maybe now is when you do.”

   “I don’t know if I wanna watch a show about a plane that disappears to an island no one knows about. We’ll see what my paranoia level is by the time we finish the last Tiger King episode.”

   “Well, you know I’ve been dying for you to watch Catch-22,” he replied with a smirk.

   You paused a moment, grimacing at the thought of the show adaptation of a Joseph Heller novel that you hadn’t very much enjoyed in the first place. “Lost it is.”

[littlemisssquiggles]

RWBY Remarks: Oscar’s Talk with Ironwood (RWBY V7 CH7)

This isn’t going to be like one of my usual posts. Let’s just say that this squiggle meister really, really loved the scene between Oscar and General Ironwood from today’s episode---RWBY V7 Chapter 7. I enjoyed it so much that I’m going to be that nerd and quote all of it in this one post for future analysis and reference because that’s how much I loved it. I’ll also share some of my thoughts on this particular moment since…as I’ll reiterate, it was REALLY GOOD!

 (Oscar and Ironwood down in the Vault of the Winter Maiden)

 Ironwood: It’s right behind that door.

Oscar: The Staff of Creation.

Ironwood: I hoped bringing you down here might jog some memories; after all it was your idea to use the staff to life Atlas off the ground.

Oscar: I thought gravity dust kept Atlas afloat.

Ironwood: That’s the public story. But with the staff, we have a constant, seemingly limitless energy source. Ozpin speculated it could take us as high as we wanted. To tell you the truth, that served for the inspiration for the Amity Project. Get a communication tower up in the sky, higher than the Grimm could survive so we never lose contact with each other again.

Oscar: But…you’re not using the staff to raise Amity.

Ironwood: The staff could only be used for one purpose at a time. We’re going to have to do Amity the old fashioned way. Dust and all.

Oscar: Feels strange; knowing a part of me helped come up with all of this.

Ironwood: You’ll get used to it, I’m sure. Eventually, you won’t even know who’s who anymore.

Oscar: …Right.

Ironwood: We…didn’t always see eye to eye but…I wish I could ask Ozpin what he thought of all of this.

Oscar: Well, I can tell you what I think. The path you’re heading down, where you’re the only one with the answers, where you do the thing you think is right no matter the cost, it’s NOT going to take you anywhere good.

Ironwood: We have to stop Salem. Nothing matters more.

Oscar: Some things matter more. I think. Keeping our humanity. It’s what makes us different from her.

Ironwood: Sometimes I worry that’s her greatest advantage. Without humanity, does she still feel fear? Does she ever hesitate? When Salem hit Beacon, even with all my ships, all of my soldiers, I was no match for her. I’ve never felt so helpless, the way she told me she was there.

Oscar: It’s okay to be afraid. You can’t just let that fear control you.

Ironwood: I am not going to end up like Lionheart. Do you believe in me?

Oscar: I do believe in you. But not only you. I think the best thing you could do is sit down and talk with the people you’re most afraid to.

Ironwood. Now you are starting to sound like him.

Some Squiggly Thoughts on This Scene:

 “I do believe in you. But not only you.”

Gosh I f***ing love that line and I love Oscar even more for saying it! Tell ‘em my BOY!

As a matter of fact, I love this whole scene. Tattoo it on my back. It’s that good, well at least in my opinion.

“Now you are starting to sound like him.”

…Jimmy, my boy you couldn’t be anymore wrong:. 

Oscar is something else. He’s different from Ozpin. Different from all the other wizards and I believe even more now that his perspective on things will make his experience as the new Wizard a whole lot more spectacular. 

Sorry to waste a post on this but I needed to caption this entire conversation. Not just for future analystic reasons  but because I loved it so much. There is so much to gather from this one talk and it’s sad I can’t muse on it right now.

But what I will say from what I’ve gathered is my concern for Ironwood. Fear really is his Baobab like I had theorized and if he doesn’t remove it soon; it’ll lead to him losing his humanity. 

With the exception of Glynda Goodwitch, I believe, each member of Ozpin’s Inner Circle---at least the men---- had a particular qualm about them that they succumbed to, based on the Oz character they draw inspiration from.

Qrow, I guess in his depression over learning the truth, succumbed to his alcoholism which you can say is a habit of his carelessness. Sometimes people who act careless commit foolish acts and we saw that with Qrow last season in V6 where he spent most of his time drinking himself into a stupor instead of banding together with the children to come up with a better solution. 

I guess in a way, this shows that Qrow is no different than the kids? Qrow was only a child---no older than our young heroes---- when he met Ozpin and he spent most of his life following in his wisdom and guidance. 

And after Oz “disappeared”, Qrow was left without a voice to guide him too like a scarecrow without a brain.

Lionheart succumbed to his fears. And now, Ironwood is at the risk of losing his humanity which is synonymous with the tin man needing a heart. 

I don’t wish to imagine how James would be if he didn’t act with empathy and compassion. The irony is that you can sort of say that he is  doing this already---sure he’s been looking out for the People of Atlas but he hasn’t even considered what his actions are doing to the People of Mantle. 

Imagine what it would be like if James just stops caring about anyone all together and the only thing that mattered to him was stopping Salem. 

I think this is what today’s episode is alluding to. At some point, I believe James will fall prey fully to his Baobab and will plot to go stop Salem---not even thinking about how the consequences of his actions might affect EVERYONE.

In the end, no one will matter to James. Not Winter. Not Penny. Not Pietro. Not even the People of Atlas. Not even the People of Remnant for that matter.

I think his goal of stopping Salem will become his main focus and all the humanity that he once had where he cared about people and trusted in others---all that won’t matter to him anymore. It’ll be all what he thinks is right. 

 This now makes me wonder what will happen if ‘this version of James’---a one driven into his own paranoia of one primary goal---one primary programming to stop Salem at all costs---how would he feel when he learns that the thing he’s been obsessing over to the point of losing himself to it, is all for not?

How would James feel after realizing that he can’t stop Salem at all…especially after he’s given up everything---meaning his humanity---to stop her?! 

I’m actually REALLY FREAKING INTRIGUED AND EXCITED by this now.

And we wouldn’t have gotten this conversation if it weren’t for Oscar lending his insight. Speaking of, can I just reiterate again how much I loved this episode particularly for this scene---this talk between Ironwood and Oscar.

I think I’ve said it a couple of times before, right? 

THIS is what I’ve been wanting for the longest while! This is what folks who often criticize Pineheads like myself who want Oscar to have more focus in the series don’t understand.

When I say I want RWBY to focus on Oscar, I’m not just asking for the Writers to give him more screen time or have him do cool things or just act cute for the entire episode. While any moment with Oscar is great, that’s not really what I’m looking for as a fan of his character. It’s fine if that’s what other Pineheads want but speaking for myself mostly here, I look for more than just the small “breadcrumb moments” for Oscar’s side of things, y’know what I mean?

When I say “CRWBY please give Oscar more proper focus”, I’m NOT asking them to kill off all the other characters in the series and quote, unquote, “Make Oscar the main character of RWBY”.

Honestly, I don’t know where some folks get the impression that “focus” is tantamount with being the main character of something. Not every character in a show has to be the main character just to have focus. As a matter of fact, I often find myself being impressed by shows that are able to provide good writing and development for its side or supporting characters just as much as the main ones. But then again, that’s just me. 

In the case of Oscar, this is what I mean when I say FOCUS ON HIM. Allow the audience to see and hear what he’s thinking when the story demands it. Allow him to challenge other characters on their perspectives with his own and let the audience see all of that rather than have it happen off-screen and Oscar has to then tell us about it in a later scene while no one really reacts to what he’s saying. *coughsV6CH9coughs* 

This is what I have personally been wanting to see. I want Oscar to talk to other characters and give his own opinion on things and let the plot focus on that because when it does, that’s when we get the gold, people!

Gold comes out of this boy’s mouth every time the story allows him to and no I’m not just saying that ironically because Oscar’s name is synonymous with the colour gold.

But you just know when the story focuses on Oscar in the right way---meaning let us see and hear how he feels---it’s good. Better than good. It’s freaking great and this is why I clapped for this scene with Ironwood. 

This scene was my favourite scene from the episode and probably my best moment with Oscar for V7 so far.

Oscar’s talk to Ironwood reminds me so much of his V5 Dojo Scene with Ruby. I actually think I like Oscar’s talk with Ironwood more since we get to hear more of what Oscar is thinking and see Ironwood react to it. This moment was GREAT, you guys. I cannot stress this enough. 

Oscar was really, really great in this episode and his stance with Ironwood made me feel so proud of him as a fan of his. Having Oscar spend more time with James---I was worried about where that was going to but I’m glad that this is the direction they went with him---showing Oscar being the opposite side to go toe to toe with Oz. He is like Ozpin in this manner but at the same time. he’s also his own person because Oscar is advicing James from a person who saw where Oz’s path eventually took him and how he’s doing his best to guard people he care about from walking down the same path.

Oscar was talking more as himself in this scene and....I LOVE IT.  I hope there is more.

I want more moments of Oscar talking to people. This is what I want to see above anything else. More than any Rosegardening Rosebud moments he’ll have with Ruby. More than him even unlocking his semblance. I want to hear Oscar’s thoughts on things that happened to and around him within recent times and I want to see him challenge other characters with his ideals and see how they react to what he’s saying.

I still want to see Oscar challenge Ruby on her stance with keeping the truth from Ironwood. I think Oscar has a greater incentive to do so now.

That line---that piece of advice that he gave James about “talking to the people you’re most afraid to”, I don’t think that advice was just for James. I wonder if we’ll have Oscar approaching Ruby again and the two resuming their talk from V7 CH3? I think it will happen soon, especially with how things are shaping up for James.

That Baobab man. It’s going to consume him. Not unless the little barn prince convinces the little red rose withholding secrets to help him remove the tin man’s baobab seeds before it’s too late. At least that’s what I’m thinking.

That being said, I’m curious to see where Oscar and James will be for the next episode. Will we go straight into the dinner? Overall, I am hyped for CH8. I don’t think I’ve been this excited for an episode to come for this season.

I just want to see how everything is going to play out. Especially for James and how Oscar is going to react to it. I’m sure Oscar will be watching James very closely for the next episode to see if he will take his advice. I doubt Ironwood will take Oscar’s advice. As a matter of fact, I think CH8 will be the first sign of Ironwood’s Baobab completely taking over and….it’s going to result with him having bad blood with not just Jacques Schnee or the Council (because I think we might see them too since Ironwood will be fighting for his seat on the Council) but everyone.

I think Ironwood will take the step towards losing his humanity next episode and I’m curious to see how Oscar will react to it. Maybe he might approach Ruby again on the subject matter and after James…dips…Oscar might look to Ruby who might finally come to the realization of what she had done. Because ironically, Ruby isn’t the only one walking Oz’s path for this season---James is too. The really, really bad one and maybe seeing James might help Ruby with her own qualms.

I dunno. Like I said, I am so excited for next episode!

 ~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)  

[reydelcastill0]

Words: 6554

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: SKULLY! JESSICA AU || Jessica Locke wakes up in an unfamiliar place, a hotel room she has never seen before. She doesn't know how to get home, so she stays in that hotel room. Unfortunately, the longer she stays, the more disconnected she feels from herself. Jessica grows increasingly anxious and an unknown skeleton mask somehow makes her feel better.

The walls were bleak and unfamiliar. Nothing was notable about them, in that case. The walls were shrouded in the darkness that the closed blinds created. No light poured in and it gave the room a solemn sort of feel— an underlying uncomfortableness.

The bed wasn’t soft, nor hard, but not one that is particularly preferred. That middle ground that isn’t “Just right!” as Goldilocks would have said, but “Good enough...,” as anyone down on their luck would proclaim. The sheets were thick. The type of thick that makes good blankets in winter, but not-so-great ones in summer. 

The atmosphere was overall a drab one, and whether the thumping noise that echoed in the room made everything less drab or even more drab was unclear. It added, but maybe it actually subtracted? Glances around the room didn’t help Jessica know more about the room she was in. It just made her situation seem worse. 

She had a duffle bag of stuff that were probably hastily packed, but she wouldn’t know. She couldn’t remember. It was then that she realized how much worse the situation was. Where was she? Why was she here? She looks like she was running from something— maybe someone—, but why? Why is she here in a room she’s never seen before?

It’s obviously a hotel room, but it makes her anxious nonetheless. A tension in the air that suffocates, but not fully, instead leaving her feeling breathless. Certainly not the good kind of breathless. Not the kind where you danced till you found yourself euphoric and out of breath. The sort of breathless where it’s like you’re screaming your lungs out into a pillow because how else would you vent your troubles?

The contents of her bag were as follows: clothes and money. She very quickly counted her money. It was too much money for a short vacation— for a getaway from home (without Amy, though? Because she knows she wasn’t tired of Amy)—, but too little for anything long-term (so she obviously hadn’t planned on, say, moving somewhere else). It adds further anxiety to her mind because why would she need this amount? And she doesn’t see Amy anywhere near her. What (or who) was she trying to get away from?

IT WATCHES BUT,

There weren’t enough clothes to last her forever. Enough, yes, to swap daily, if she washed every few days that is. Not her full wardrobe, she notices, and certainly picked without abandon. She hadn’t picked any particular combinations, so this was not a wardrobe suited for some local event. So surely she didn’t get drunk and end up in some hotel. Her head hurt, but not like the pain a blackout drunk would feel. Like if something had been ripped from her, something important, but not vital.

Ending it with her bag, she stands up firmly— almost like she was confronting a problem—, but deflates when she doesn’t even know half of the problem. She’s somewhere she doesn’t know and can’t recall the previous days. Last she remembers, she and her roommate Amy were chatting in their living room about family or something. But she feels like that is far too distant a memory. 

She sighs and walks groggily around the room and checks all the doors. One of the doors leads to another door that is locked, so she decides to continue before going to it. The other door leads to a bathroom and the last is a doorway to some midway space between it and the door leading to the hallway.

The hallway is bright— much more than her room was— and empty of people. She ignores that fact because not all hotels are bustling, and not everyone walks through the halls as comfortably as they would in their own homes. The emptiness of the hallway, however, gnaws at her emotions like the unfamiliarity of her situation does. She enters her room again and searches for her phone. It lays upon the nightstand and she grabs it.

The… The time must be wrong? It’s a date she can’t recall ever being close to. Her last memory was with Amy, and that was months back (according to how the dates would match up). How much time has she lost?

WOULD CONFIDENCE DEFER ITS PRESENCE???

She clutches her head, exhaustion overtaking her in a rather mental sense of things. She was tired beyond what she could fathom and there was a paranoia falling upon her. Her mind racing with “Where am I?”s and “What do I do?”s. She goes to her contacts, ready to contact someone, Amy maybe. They were thick as thieves, after all.

But Amy did not answer, and that settled paranoia into her skin similarly to how the overwhelming heat of the sun melts ice. She would have called her family had this newfound flood of emotion not made her worry as to what calling would lead to. 

So she stayed in her room, panicked over feeling lost— over the feeling of having lost something. Memories? She’s lost those for sure, if the date on her phone is anything to go by and so, by result, she has lost time. But it is not the matter of lost time or the prospect of losing memories that has her worried. It is the worry that she has lost herself in it.

Eventually she caught sight of a card by the T.V. and upon closer inspection, realized it was her room key. Useful, knowing full well that getting locked out of the one place that could ground her right now would prove to be the worst thing to happen. She grabs it and leaves her room in search of the front desk. She could ask about her stay and hope to know more about her situation. 

Passing by a man in the hall, she sets out for it with a confident and determined stride. Eventually, she manages to speak to the lady at the front desk. She had hoped it would be more helpful than it was, but was it futile from the beginning?

WOULD IT INSTEAD PLAGUE ONE’S SOUL TILL THEY ARE LEFT FEELING LOST???

The lady told her that it was a night for one booking, but that Jessica had also come in with a man whom she chose to get a conjoined room with. With a smile, she thanked the lady and went back to her room, more anxious than before.  

Why had she arrived with a man she can’t remember? If he was a threat to her, he would be more open about interacting with her? Their shared rooms would have been open to each other, right? Maybe he would have even knocked to check on her. That locked door must’ve led to his room then? Right? Right?

She thought about it more, worried he might not be safe, but after extending her stay at the hotel, he seems to not know her, too. So she lets a few days pass before she grasps at the first thing to talk to him about. His chest-mounted camera.

She knows that’s what it is. It’s only obvious with how close she is to the man, but she needs to talk to him, so she only asks him what it is. And he was awkward about his answers, telling her it’s for a documentary on hotels. She may not be the type of person to make documentaries, but documentaries in a hotel that isn’t some five star one? A review on the hotel would have been more believable. But she settles on introducing herself so she could learn his name.

When he tells her his, she can’t help the sense of familiarity washing over her. Comforting at first, but the familiarity eats at her like the unfamiliarity does. The name “Jay Merrick” rings a loud bell, but it’s distant and distorted. He fumbles after she tells him that it sounds familiar, confused as to how she might even know him. A voice inside her head tells her that he seemed scared of that.

But like he said, “It’s a pretty common name.” If she’s grasping at straws with this, she’d rather do so more than she would like to be in the dark.

THE FAMILIAR HAS BECOME A THREAT BECAUSE OF IT AND

Days pass and Jay barely speaks to her. Maybe a passing “Hi,” but it’s because she speaks to him first. He seems anxious, too, more than her, like if he is avoiding something. She needs to figure something out and she expects he has the answers.

But first she needs to settle a personal problem. It may be the environment or the situation she has found herself in, but she barely sleeps. She spends time at night tossing and turning, unable to close her eyes long enough to fall into a slumber. Something deep within her seems to prevent her from sleeping. It's as if she knows something that she also doesn’t. An instinct her body is keeping track of, but one that her mind fails to.

Over the coming days, she still tries to talk to Jay because now it’s increasingly eerie that he, aside from hotel staff, is the only person she has ever seen there. She has seen other people, thankfully, such as those when she works (the job she had to take up just so she could stay in the hotel much longer), but in the hotel? Not a single person that hasn’t already been there. And on a roadside hotel, too? People would most likely stop by at least a few times.

She goes to his door to knock, but he mustn't be there because any normal person would have answered. So she grabs her phone and holds it to her ear as she waits outside her door, hoping he gets there before she has to leave for work. 

The moment she notices him, she pretends to be on the phone with someone and uses that as a moment to see how to strike a conversation. He has groceries which is weird, because 1) if he was filming a documentary (still absurd), he would not be in the hotel for a month with food, and 2) it has been around one month and he has made no move to leave. She asks him about it, because maybe he’s just some hotel hermit.

“What are you doing here? You’ve been here for a while…” She asks him, to which he tells her his house is being renovated.

His house is being renovated?!? He doesn’t even bother continuing his bullshit hotel documentary story and that leaves her stewing with a bit of unfondness as she leaves for work. He’s lying to her for what reason?

Is he hiding something from her? Something deep inside says no, but she wants to believe otherwise. She has been in an unfamiliar place for around a whole month and the least Jay could do is lie consistently.

IT EXPECTS YOU TO FALL TO FAMILIARITY,

That night, Jessica feels asleep, but even in her dreams she feels awake and uneasy. Her thoughts are a blur, but something in her soul feels like it is lagging behind a moving body. She feels dazed and without a clear head. She feels slow, but fast. She feels lost and found at the same time. She feels like a contradiction, but has no mind to figure out why.

But she hears the knocks on her door and it brings her back to reality. She’s groggy and half-awake, but it’s reality nonetheless. The knocking wasn’t the front door, but rather the door connecting to Jay’s room. She walks towards it and forgets to take note of the fact that she was already standing. But before she can open the door, she coughs, her throat having suddenly felt raspy (as has suddenly been happening during her stay at the hotel). 

When she does open the door, Jay tells her about loud noises coming from her room. The loudest noises she heard had to have been Jay’s knocks and when she tells him she just woke, he seems confused. He must’ve thought she was the one making the noise? It leaves her feeling sleepless once again, and she doesn’t go back to sleep that night, worried that she’s lost herself to her dreams— lost herself in her dreams.

BUT THE FAMILIAR WILL KILL YOU,

━

The forest is quiet, but not quiet in the sense that everything is calm. No, it was quiet as if there was no life. The leaves did not rustle, birds did not chirp, and bugs did not buzz. It was as if time was frozen— in fact, there may have been no time at all such a weird place— and it was distressing. 

The trees were tall and it did not look like there was a sky— except there was a void. It was dark, but it may not have been night. Surely, there must not exist a day in this world. It was clear that this world lacked any sort of time. The forest in it’s timeless horror was, unfortunately, not as clear. It was blurry— hazy like an unfocused image. There was no sound, but there was a static. The static was almost a feeling, a sense, but not a noise nor a physical thing. The static was akin to hearing, to smelling, to seeing, to existing.

It is an uneasiness. It is an entity. It is terrifying.

It is all so terrifying to the lost child in the woods, learning all this for the first time (but she has learned it all already). She does not know how she got there, but she was there in the woods, alone (but not really). She does not know why she is there, but she was already running, towards something (but actually away from everything).

She is running, no thoughts in her mind, but there are feelings in her being. She feels like she is watched. A young child lost in the woods, but she is unaware as to when she got lost. She is running, but she has no mind to know what from, yet she still runs. Had she any mind, she would have assumed she was running from a monster.

Because do children not all run a monster? Do children not all run from the faceless man in a suit? Do they not? Because young Jessica does and, had she any mind, she would have thought it her life’s purpose— to run from It forever, knowing Its eyes (eyes It does not have) are trained on her every move.

Every tumble she falls, every jump she makes, every step she takes, every breath that leaves her because she feels like no air enters her lungs— It is aware of these (little had they not been the very fiber of her present being) things.

Jessica feels like she is in pain,— screaming her voice raw, yet no sound leaves her mouth, not even a whimper— but her body is numb. It feels like a static— she feels like a static. She feels like she is every uncomfortable feeling at once, but she knows that in these woods, she is nothing at all. She can’t even be sure that she is actually existing, but she will not focus on the inkling of such a though, not when she is running, no— 

She is running, as quickly as she can, but she makes little progress. The forest extends with her very stride, but she is in so many different places at once she can not process any of it. Her legs feel tired, yet they do not lag. She is like a puppet, following the motions, but she does not control them.

Jessica is a young child, lost in the woods, and her only purpose is to run from It. It is a monster that all of humanity must fear, but It is an elusive being. She is unable to see It. She is unable to know It— only know that It watches. She wants to cry, and she would have had she been able to. She would have cried and, if she could have controlled any bit of herself, she would have gladly died. If it meant It was not watching her, she would have gladly died.

━

SO SEEK THE FAMILIAR FOR IT SHALL SAVE YOU.

Jessica wakes up, finding that she was in a sitting position, a mask held loosely in her hands as if she was supposed to know why she has it. The dream she just had was long (unusually so for a dream, because dreams are like short clips of a video— snippets of the whole) and it makes her realize that it is not the first time she has had the dream (always the same, with no change), and she doubts this time will be the last.

She checks her phone, but not before letting her eyes scan the room, checking for something. Jessica has no idea what to check for, but it feels like her body is still moving on its own. Preparing for danger, but hoping for safety. Her phone reads a date days pass what she last remembers. It reminds her that her stay at the hotel is not normal. That this is a recurrence and that is not normal. It reminds her that suddenly, she feels as though she is not normal. Like she is someone else now and it terrifies her.

But the mask in her hand doesn’t. The mask she is holding— the mask that she has never seen before— does not terrify her. The mask, rather, makes her feel well, for once. Her stay at the hotel has not been well and she has not slept well nor has she felt well, but for once— with the mask in her hand— she feels well. Her head does not ache, for once, and her throat does not feel raspy, for once.

She realizes then that she feels normal. No threat hangs in the air and she feels normal. Her paranoia is gone for a bit and she feels normal. She feels normal. The rest of the day feels normal. The rest of the day is normal and Jessica is normal. But she only sees one issue with that. She doesn’t feel like Jessica (not the young dream Jessica who only runs, nor the physical Jessica that wants to be done with these newfound problems). 

Her body is moving, she feels it moving and can see the actions from her own eyes (a contrast to how she “moved” in her dreams), but she feels like she isn’t in control. It’s as though she were watching a movie, sitting in the theatre and taking in all that’s shown. But she is not the camera that recorded the scene, she is only the watcher, and it is so much better than being the puppet.

She is a watcher and it is a newfound sense of normal.

And the next day, Jay takes that normalcy away from her. He took it away from her the moment he knocked on her door, reminding her that he is also not normal. When she opens the door— noting how she suddenly felt more in control of her body— Jay fumbles over his words at first. She suspects that maybe it was on impulse that he knocked, especially how he begins to awkwardly ask about local parks. She’s confused at first: why does he want to know about parks?

But then he tells her it’s ‘cause his job is being relocated so he’s decided to look for a new place. He says that he wants to move next to a nice park and Jessica tells him that she’s probably been to Rosswood park as a kid (but she can’t say with pure certainty that she has, yet she feels like her visit there was recent. Though she can’t shake an underlying feeling of seething rage. She’s mad— at him, the situation, the hotel—, so very mad.

When she calls him out, Jay feigns innocence. He pretends not to remember telling her about the documentary or about his apartment and it makes her so very mad. But she keeps that rage in because she needs to cling to something. He rips normalcy away from her so the least he could do is cut it out with lies, but she’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. She’ll humor the possibility that he is also forgetting his days here.

But then he brushes her off, making her seem crazy. Making her feel crazy and all he had to do was slip into his room, away from her like she was crazy. But she can’t possibly be crazy, right?

Retreating back into her room, an anxiety chewing away at her soul like bugs on a carcass, she feels like every weight that wasn’t on her shoulder yesterday is on her now. It feels suffocating, and if she knew what it meant to have one, she would have assumed she was about to have a panic attack. Instead, she settles on knowing she has a coughing fit (but it does not ease her mind in any way).

She stumbles throughout her hotel room, tripping over her duffle bag, and falling onto the floor. She doesn’t know what to do. Jessica’s throat is scratchy, her coughs coming out in hacks and her breaths leave her body painfully (pain that while, yes, she has grown used to them, do not hurt less with each fit). She lays on the floor, coughing, coughing till she can’t no more and suddenly, she feels like she is in her dreams again.

She feels like she is watched, her body feels like static, and this terrifies her more than anything. Because this is not a dream. This feeling is more real than anything she’s ever experienced. Her livelihood is fake in comparison to this nauseating feeling of being watched. She does not see what watches her, but she somehow knows where it is. There are no trees to cover it this time, and she hasn’t the ability to get up and run.

She tries to crawl away from the presence that sends her body into all states of fear— the presence that freezes her; the presence that makes her body prepare to fight despite how badly it tries to flee. Beside her bed, a corner she tries to cower in, is her mask. She does not feel her body moving towards it, but she is in control. She knows that this time she is, and she feels that grabbing at the mask surrenders the control she has. But she doesn’t want the control, so if she must surrender it, she will do so willingly.

Her hand manages to grab the mask, her coughs garnering more intensity as she does, and she reaches to put it on her head. The mask— the white mask with a skeleton-grin— provided her a sense of comfort yesterday, she could only hope it helps again.

She will not cope well knowing that the mask could not save her (not like she hoped it would), because she dreams again. She dreams of running from It, and she’ll run till she can get rid of It. But she can’t get rid of It. Not right now. Not while she is so vulnerable. Not while her body is currently hers. But she only wants the mask to save her, so she allows another to take her body from her, if only a bit, it only to get away from It— 

There is a woman who wakes up on the floor . She wears a mask, but it is as much her face as the one beneath it. She manages to leave the room— to escape It— but she knows It will not be pleased with this outcome, and now she has to inform The Mask and The Hood of an upcoming change, whatever it may be. There is a woman who runs in every sense of the word, but right now, she is The Skull, and she runs from It so that Jessica doesn’t need to.

IT IS HOME— THE UNFAMILIAR— AND IT IS SAFE.

The next time Jessica finds herself in full control of her own body— no sleepwalking or the like— it is January 12th. The preceding weeks were accompanied by blips in memory, a fleeting conscious moment, and then more blips in her memory. The entire time, she has felt asleep, but her body has not rested well. Her body has not rested well, her head aches, and her chest is scratchy. But it is on the 12th that she finds herself able to stare at her phone and process the information before her.

Her mask— the mask, because she resolves in the moment it is not hers— is on the bed beside her. She glares at it, unhappy it is here, because something tells her it didn’t save her as she hoped, but just pushed the moment of suffering to a later date. She grabs the mask a moment, but throws it across the room the moment she begins to feel at ease. 

The mask doesn’t help find normalcy as she first hoped and that makes Jessica feel bitter. She feels bitter— bitter towards the mask, towards the hotel, towards Jay— so very bitter. She sits on her bed, head in her hands, thinking bitter thoughts. Why would she think a mask can help her escape the monster that terrorizes her (she’s learned there is a monster, but she could never learn how it looked)? Why was she so dumb to just stay in the hotel? Is it because of Jay…?

She then gets a bit mad, lifting her head up to look at his door. She made the final decision to stay in this hotel because of Jay. She knows— somewhere deep inside of her, she knows— that she is here because of Jay. All because of Jay! He’s the problem, the fault in all this. He’s the liar and she has to accept that.

She has to, but right now, she chooses not to. She stands up— a confident fire within her soul ready to expel all her anxieties— and heads to the door. She inhales as she grabs and twists the door knob, and exhales when she knocks on Jay’s door. She intends to give him an earful, call him out on all his bullshit, and maybe they wouldn’t even acknowledge each other after all was said and done.

When he opens the door, Jessica’s mind fixates on the camera and then remembers that the two of them are just coping differently. She eases a bit, confused about why he’s recording her. But then she gets a bit mad again, calling out his lies and then she explains to him her experience in this hotel because he has to be going through the same thing? They can’t live in adjoined rooms and not suffer in the same ways? Right?

And then he tells her he’ll explain it all, but that they need to leave. They need to leave? This whole situation is just crazy and it’s so bad that now they need to leave? She complies, but she feels woozy at the notion of them needing to leave. She makes an attempt at packing her stuff, but most of it already was. It has been every moment since she first woke up in the hotel room.

Something told her she would need to be ready, but right now, she feels too overwhelmed. Too overwhelmed by the severity of the situation to care about how everything is already packed. And she is most certainly too overwhelmed to care about the piece of paper with numbers scrawled on it that certainly wasn’t there before— and too overwhelmed to care that a man in a mask is in her hotel room.

She wanted to make a noise, call out to Jay, say something, but she knows this man isn’t isn’t the monster that she fears with every fiber of her being— the monster who chases her in her dreams. But she can’t seem to think much— not about how his mask resembles the one she tossed away from herself—, not while she’s passing out in the middle of her hotel room. Not while she needs to accept that some things are beyond her control.

IT IS SAFE BECAUSE THE FAMILIAR IS DANGEROUS.

━

Disoriented, Jessica wakes up on what feels to be a dirt floor and her back against a tree. She leans forward, her palms pressing against the dirt floor— floor that reminds her of her dreams, but are not paired with the crippling fear— and she groans. Her mind is racing with thoughts. Did she and Jay go somewhere? Did she sleepwalk again? Who was the person in the mask? Is she safe? Is she safe?

Her mind is racing with thoughts, but all she lets out is a confused “What happened?” She gets no response, she isn’t even up off the floor yet, but a hand touches her back. The touch isn’t invasive or intrusive, rather, the touch on her back seems to intend to be comforting, but she’s only more confused.

She raises her head, ignoring the hooded person beside her because if they were a threat, they would have already hurt her (she reasons this with herself, but can’t be sure). What does seem like a threat, though, is the flashlight peering through the trees, searching for something (someone, she assumes in the end). She asks who it is, but the hooded person covers her mouth and she can’t help the gasp and whimpers escape her.

They may not be a threat— the hooded one—, but she reserves the right to get scared. The way they tell her to shush like the situation is just one she shouldn’t make a noise in, it’s nerve wracking because what are they hiding from? She knows he probably means well, but the disorientation of being in an unfamiliar place has made her anxious in the past and it definitely still makes her anxious right now.

The hooded person tries to help her up, but Jessica is stubborn and confident. She tells them, “It’s fine, I got it,” as she roughly shrugs her arm away. When she is properly standing, she sees that the hooded person notices how close the light of the flashlight is and grabs her, making a move to run away. She has no choice but to comply, yet she can’t even be sure if this person is safe. 

Jessica and the hooded person don’t make it far, though, as the one with the flashlight yells at them to stop. They do, but the light is almost blinding in the pitch black, so Jessica has trouble seeing what the flashlight man is holding. Before her eyes can adjust to the dark, the hooden person grabs her hand and makes another attempt at running.

However, behind them she hears a gunshot. She screams— she screams hoping that she didn’t get hurt. The hooded person lets go of her hand and continues to run off and Jessica only follows a bit before she crouches, curling in on herself, and moves off to the side so that she doesn’t get shot . Jessica would only be able to get so far before the man with the gun shoots her, so she can only accept that she’ll die here or somewhere else. Thankfully, the man went pass her, shooting at the hooded man a couple times.

The shots scare her, but when the man calls out her name and mentions Amy (specifically that he and Amy were dating), she feels inclined to trust the man. He says he’ll help her get out of the forest, which is more than the hooded person had done (he only shushed her), so of course she has to trust him, right?

The only thing is, is that she doesn’t know why she’s in the forest in the first place. Why? She sees the hooded person’s camera and makes a move to pick it up. She reasons that the camera has to show her why and how she got to the forest. Wasn’t she just in a hotel? What happened to Jay? Is Jay okay? 

Alex, he said that was his name, let her have the camera, but he says he’ll explain the whole situation after they leave, but Jessica feels like they’re only going deeper into the woods. Something deep inside of her tells her that all of this is wrong, and Jessica believes it, but she knows that some things are out of her control. 

Alex starts up conversations, trying to ease her nerves, most likely, and he tells her he can help catch her up on everything she needs. She wants to trust him, she does, but she finds herself quietly doubting Alex. He has a gun and it would be super easy to shoot her and that installs distrust within her. A bullet flies faster than a person could move. She has no choice but to follow him (but she wants to run).

When he takes her to the tunnel, he tells her to go ahead. He’s been suspicious of being followed, but with a gun, he shouldn’t have all too hard a time surviving…

He gives her his flashlight and that makes her anxious. The feelings she’s been feeling since she turned up at the hotel, they’re back, and that terrifies her. Jessica is terrified, and nothing eases her. She tries to tell herself she’s just needlessly paranoid, but something deep inside of her (almost like a voice, she realizes) drowns her out. It’s like it’s yelling at her— her mind is yelling at her and that is not comforting. No, it is a bone chilling fact.

IT WANTS THE FAMILIAR TO KILL YOU.

She turns around, hopeful she can scream back at her own mind, but then she sees Alex’s gun pointed at her. She turns the camera and flashlight towards him and rocks back and forth on her feet. She wants to charge at Alex, and when he tries to blame all this on Jay? Her body lunges towards him. She sees herself do this, but she knows that her body is moving on its own.

She isn’t in control. She isn’t in control as he doubles over. She isn’t in control as she picks up the gun. And she isn’t in control when she yells at him to shut up.

She regains control when the hooded person runs by her to beat up Alex and she sets down the gun for a moment so she could grab the flashlight, but then picks it back up as she runs off. She runs, even if her mind yells at her to go back and help finish off Alex. No, she is in control right now, even if she shouldn’t be. She will not listen to herself right now, because her only goal is to get away from both the hooded person and Alex— even if it means denying instinct.

SO WHY DO YOU NOT TRUST THE SKULL???

Jessica is running, so many thoughts racing in her head, and so many feelings she is trying to repress. She feels like she is being watched, but she doesn’t know by what. She has half a mind to know it is that thing, but she can only hope this is another one of those wretched nightmares. She can only hope, but right now she is running. She is running, even when she feels she doesn’t make it closer to the end of the woods. 

She sees a man, tall and in a suit and she calls out to him. She hopes he can help her, but every fiber of her being is telling her that this is no man. It is a thing, and It is what watches her. When she is alone, when she is dreaming, when she is working, and when she is existing, it is this thing that watches her (and perhaps it had been watching Jay, too).

She realizes this all a bit too late, because the moment she notices its lack of a face, all of Jessica’s mind seizes and for the first time, she does not dream, nor does she sleepwalk. She and The Skull are silenced, but they could only hope it is not for long.

The walls were bleak and familiar. Nothing was notable about them, not yet at least. The walls had a bit of light that poured in through the blinds, highlighting lines across the walls. The light that poured in Jessica that it was time to get up— but she could do so at her own pace.

(The Skull always invites The Hood over into Jessica’s house. The Hood mostly chooses to use Jessica’s computer, though. The Skull never asks why.)

The bed wasn’t soft, nor hard, but she prefers it this way. It’s that middle ground that is “Just right!” as Goldilocks would have said. The sheets were slightly thin. Jessica finds these types of blankets ideal, because in winter, all she would need is multiple blankets to be warmer.

(The Skull thinks The Hood is doing something with the videos they record. The Skull does not care to pry.)

The atmosphere was overall a tranquill one, and whether the ticking clock added to it. Glances around the room reminded Jessica that she should focus on decorating her apartment room more. With time, her new place would be rather homely. She has a computer at least, some clothes, and a few plants throughout her room. She wants more candles, soon, but she’’l only have some when she can afford them.

(The Skull does not know why The Mask does not visit, despite being invited, but The Hood won’t say the reason for this. It irks The Skull, but perhaps The Hood would rather stay silent than to lie.)

She sits up and moves to get out of bed, but she finds that her mask is beside her pillow. Recently, she wakes up beside it and while she doesn’t mind, she can’t help but wonder when it is that she puts it beside her. She didn’t go to sleep with it? She can’t remember, but she doesn’t care to bother about it. Not right now because nothing matters. Not while she feels safe.

(The Skull is given medicine— two pills each time— that The Hood always presents as an offer of thanks. The Skull knows it wards off The Operator. Hopeful, with these pills The Operator can finally accept being told “Goodbye.”)

She picks up the mask and smiles. It fills her with a sense of ease, and she likes to think of it as a good omen. Everytime it is near her, Jessica can’t help but feel calm. The skull-like mask has that surprising effect on her. Life is stressful, but as long as she has the mask— her mask, as she has come to fondly refer to it as—, she feels she can get by.

BECAUSE AS THE SKULL, YOU FEEL SAFER.