#gave an illusion that the doctor is going to be alright on their own and that the companion is better without them

[nightmanatee]

thinking about how hard it must've been for 13 to let yaz go. bc of how destructive she is for yaz despite all the attempts to make it better.

she tried to show yaz the universe but failed to open up. let her find her true self (and who she loves) but failed to show this love (and accept it) herself. taught her to fly the tardis and shouted at her. gave her a reason and all the tools to become the person yaz always wanted to be yet still failed to give her the most valuable thing (and what yaz has always wanted): more time.

after all of this i'm glad she's realized that maybe yaz's the one who deserved better. perhaps she deserves much more than become twelve (and so much more than what 12 did to clara: selfishly kept her close to himself).

[st-writes]

Reach and Flexibility Pt. 2

ME2: Shepard gets a peek at the big guns

(Read Part 1 Here)

Shepard sat at the edge of the first medbay cot. Her palms were dry. Everything was dry. She felt like the traditional definition of a husk, her exterior hardened and leathery while inside her soul shriveled up, pulling away from the edges. It left a moat between her and the rest of the world, making everything seem distant.

Two days earlier they’d raided the collector ship. They’d gotten the data they needed and escaped without casualties. It was a success, but only in the sense that the directives had been fulfilled. In every other sense, Shepard didn’t think she’d ever felt like a bigger failure.

Two days earlier they’d raided the collector ship, and she’d been mentally spaced by her own psyche, set adrift in her nightmares while her body was left panicked and vulnerable in the belly of the beast.

“I wouldn’t have sent you in if I didn’t think you could succeed,” he’d said.

Shepard winced as Chakwas’s gloved hands manipulated her cheek, pinching the skin around the growing, glowing fissures. The pain was dull, but still there. Chakwas tutted and stepped away, tugging her gloves off by the fingers.

“Other than a rejection flare-up, you appear to be fine, physically. But I’m a medical doctor, Commander. When it comes to matters of the mind, I can only be a friend,” she said, setting the gloves on her desk.

“I’m not talking to Chambers.” Shepard yanked her sleeves down. “You know those reports are just going straight to the Illusive Man’s desk.” By his account, he’d led her into the lion’s den because he believed she could get herself out. What would he do if he knew his game piece was broken, his weapon impotent, his investment squandered?

“I wish you would talk to someone.” Chakwas slumped into her chair with a sigh. “Your experience is not unique, even if your circumstances are. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

Shepard snorted. “Well, I wish we hadn’t finished all your brandy in one go.”

The corners of Chakwas’s mouth curled upward, but the smile fell short of reaching her eyes. “Are you sleeping alright? I can give you something that will help.”

Shepard ran a hand through her hair before tucking it behind her ears. “I’m sleeping plenty.” Not entirely true. The first night had been a breeze-- she’d barely made it to her cabin. EDI had let her sleep well into what was supposed to be the waking part of her cycle, and she fought a residual grogginess until it was nearly time for her to sleep again. As a result, she waited up the second night until her eyes were raw from pouring over reports and she was forced to lay on her couch and focus on nothing in particular until sleep found her.

“Alright.” Chakwas, with an air of reluctance, spun her chair back slowly toward her desk. “Do let me know if any other issues arise, or… if you want to talk…”

“I know where to find you.” Shepard nodded, moving to the door. “Thanks, Karin.” After a few steps she peered back through the window to make sure the doctor wasn’t watching her, and changed course from the elevator to the mess. She’d need coffee if she was going to make much sense of EDI’s findings beyond the overview.

The pot was empty and Gardner was off doing the other half of his duties that no one really cared to think about, so Shepard set to work brewing a new one. She found herself hypnotized by the sporadic drip, so much so that she didn’t notice one of her team had come up beside her.

“Shepard.” Garrus materialized from the haze of her surroundings to greet her. “It’s good to see you up. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” she responded automatically, before realizing who had asked: a good friend with a front-row seat to her meltdown. She glanced at him with sheepish alarm.

His avian eyes, somehow always as enigmatic as they were expressive, watched her for a moment. The good mandible on his left made one idle twitch as he seemed to reach some sort of conclusion. He gave her a small nod. “Glad to hear it,” he said. “Do you have a minute?”

There was something about him not calling her out on her bullshit that made her feel incredibly called out on her bullshit. She tried her best not to look admonished as she turned to face him. “What do you need?”

“I wanted to show you something.” A note close to mischief crept into his voice. “I think you’ll like it.”

Too worn out to have her interest truly piqued, Shepard frowned skeptically as she gestured loosely toward the coffee maker. “More than coffee?”

Garrus’s browplates dipped briefly downward as his eyes followed her hand. “Hm. Can’t say, haven’t tried the stuff.” He looked back at her, mandible tilted in what she’d come to read as a smirk. “But yeah, I think so.”

Shepard raised her eyebrows; he didn’t know what a high bar he’d just set for himself. “Alright, Vakarian. I’ll bite. Show me.”

“Great.” Garrus straightened and started toward the corridor to his usual haunt and makeshift quarters, beckoning her along. “Follow me to the battery.”

She fell in line behind him, with some small, distant amusement taking note of an energy in his stride--a “spring in his step”--she hadn’t seen in a long time. It was the gait of a younger iteration, a Garrus Vakarian eager and excited, impatient for whatever comes next. What could possibly merit that?

Once inside the battery, he pressed a tablet into her hands before stepping over to his console. She looked down at it, trying unsuccessfully to find enough focus to read the scrolling data. “What am I looking at?” She asked.

“You asked, before, if a turian patrol could’ve disabled the collector ship. We know now that’s not what happened… but it got me thinking. So I did a little poking around.” Shepard looked back up, then looked again. The interior of the battery was overlaid with a hologram- new holographic parts integrated into the current, physical setup.

“These are Thanix Cannons,” Garrus said, spinning back toward her from where he’d been queueing up the hologram at his console. “They fire a liquid alloy core suspended in an electromagnetic field that’ll tear through just about anything. Our military reverse engineered them from Sovereign’s main gun. Reaper-grade weapons, Shepard. Those Collector bastards try anything again, they won’t know what hit them.”

Garrus’s energy was contagious. Shepard felt her mouth pulling into a smile as she looked over the data with refreshed eyes. The back of her neck prickled as understanding began to sink in. “And we can make this happen?”

“Definitely. Easy upgrade.” Garrus stepped to her, tapping the tablet and clearing his throat. “Once we get the parts, of course. But I can’t imagine Cerberus won’t write this check.”

Shepard’s grin had grown so much it was hurting her scarred cheeks. The corners of her eyes began to burn, threatening tears. For the first time since she’d been brought back, the phantom Collector ship in her mind was paired with imagery of its own destruction, not hers. “Vakarian, I could kiss you.”

“Easy there, Shepard. I don’t want you to have to sit through that vid again on my account,” Garrus chuckled, taking the tablet out of her hands. He regarded her for a moment before tapping it gently against her arm. “You’ve had a long, hard couple of days. I thought you could use a win.”

Wearing a tempered smile she brushed him away, for a moment the touch of his forearm against hers almost eclipsing her other senses. They joked, but she could actually kiss him. She could do more than kiss him. Her eyes swept over him, gaging the feasibility of a whim her fatigued brain would not let pass. “Speaking of, um, Turian ingenuity...”

“Hm?” Garrus, who had just begun to move back to the console, stopped himself.

She re-crossed her arms. “I’ve been thinking about what you said-- about relieving tension.”

Garrus mirrored her gesture. “I uh, didn’t think you’d feel like sparring, Commander.” He leaned toward her conspiratorially. “You look a little tired.”

And she was: too tired to mince words. Shepard tried to smile, but it ended up feeling more like a grimace. She watched his eyes. “Yeah, not what I meant.”

Realization dawned slowly over his face. His mandibles went slack for a moment before flicking back up with a thoughtful tic. The plates on his nose flexed, his browplates tilted upward. “Oh! I didn’t… Huh.” Garrus shifted his weight onto his back foot and tugged at his collar. He turned his head toward the console, then back toward her, mandibles twitching restlessly. “You said I was ugly,” he reminded her, more confusion in his voice than reproach.

Shepard shrugged helplessly. “Looks aren’t everything,” she said. Had he taken that playful ribbing to heart? She hadn’t meant it. Though she hadn’t thought him particularly attractive then either, now she found her interest… piqued. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

Garrus was visibly floundering, his fidgeting more pronounced. “Is it the scars?” he joked, taking refuge in humor. “Never knew you had a weakness.”

“Sure as hell wasn’t your lines.” Shepard smirked. She glanced over at the hologram, still shimmering over the battery’s machinery. “Might’ve been the gun talk.”

“That cannon is a sexy machine,” Garrus agreed. When Shepard looked back, she found him watching, studying her. “Sorry. I’ve just never considered--- seriously, anyway,” he corrected himself after catching her look.

“Right, sounds like a no.” Her smirk tensed into something more like a grimace, and she rubbed at the spot between her eyebrows with a knuckle, as if she could smudge the whole idea out. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not-! I—“ He huffed helplessly. “You don't ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. Nervous, yes... but never uncomfortable. I just… I know you can find something a little closer to home.”

She squinted up at him through her hand. “Like who? Jack? Miranda?”

“Jacob?” Garrus suggested meekly. “...Joker? Zaeed? I mean, even Thane has…”

“Garrus,” she cut him off, waving away his suggestions like gnats. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my best friend, one of the few people I can trust. I never feel closer to home out here than when I’m with you.”

If she’d had more sleep, if she wasn’t raw and burnt out she might’ve been surprised at her nearly embarrassing earnestness. But if she wasn’t raw and burnt out she probably wouldn’t have been embarrassingly earnest.

Garrus straightened a little, regarding again with a look that was…softer. “I get that.” He nodded, his mandible twitching. “You’re about the only friend I’ve got left in this screwed up galaxy. I’m not going to pretend I’ve got a fetish for humans, but… If this is about us?”

His head tilted and he took a step back. “You know what? Yeah. Why the hell not.”

Shepard let slip an incredulous laugh. “‘Why the hell not’?”

“What?”

“Garrus! ‘Why the hell not’?” She stared, waiting for the penny just wouldn’t drop. “I mean, I think that’s everyone’s favorite response to putting themselves out there.”

“Definitely,” he corrected himself, sounding almost resolute before he kept on talking. “If we can figure out a way to make it work, then… Definitely.”

“It’s not uncharted territory, Big Guy.” Shepard shrugged sympathetically. She wasn’t familiar with any turian-human couplings herself, but there were definitely asari who took turian partners, so it couldn’t be too far a leap. All it took was knowing your own body, communication, and a can-do attitude, as far as she was concerned.

“Right… So… I’ll do some research,” he proffered, obviously coming from a very different, more cautious philosophy. “Find some music…?”

It was a little adorable. Shepard patted his arm supportively, feeling the fatigue creep back in. Excitement and nerves had invigorated her, but the wave of relief that came over her as their conversation settled seemed to wash her energy away with it. She never did get her coffee. “Do what you need to do, Vakarian, and nothing you don’t want to.”

His mandibles and mouthplates twitched as a series of responses died silently on his tongue. She’d broken him, she thought with distant amusement, but he’d bounce back.

“And please, PLEASE, forward those specs for the cannons to Lawson as soon as possible.” Her intention had been bringing their conversation to a merciful close, not to reignite the hot bloom of gratitude within her, but there it was. She found herself staring at that spot on his forehead.

“Can I…?” She gestured hesitantly.

“Hm?”

“Kiss you. Actually.” A light laugh bubbled through her voice. There was a giddiness now, amusement at his bafflement and her own persistent ridiculousness floating like flotsam on whatever emotional mess churned in the depths of her psyche.

Garrus sighed, a quiet exhale with a stutter at the end that could have been a laugh. “Alright.” He opened his arms and lowered his head for her.

Placing her hands on either side of his head, she guided her face to his and pressed her lips gently to that spot where the three sections of his forehead plating met. “Thank you,” she murmured against the cool, hard surface, and felt him shudder beneath her. His hands found her wrists and encased them in a soft but firm hold.

Did she stumble over a line again? She pulled back, watching him carefully as he watched her. There was something intense about the look in his eye, not alarm or reproach but… something.

“Well.” Shepard gave him a half apologetic smirk and an ineffectual pat on the hard plating that seemed to essentially form an exo-cheekbone. “I have some reports to look over, and gallons of coffee to drink, so… I’ll leave you to it?”

He let go of her with a wry chuckle, running his hands up over his own fringe. His blue eyes shot her a good-natured glare. “Riiight. 'Cause I'm in a great place to optimize firing algorithms right now. “

She shrugged, sympathetic but impotent, as she triggered the door control. Sounds from the mess filtered in on the heels of the door’s mechanical hiss. Garrus straightened, his blue eyes sliding warily over the scene behind her before meeting her gaze again. He shook his head and waved her away with the casual gesture of a good friend.

Shepard nodded in acknowledgement and turned, remnants of a smile lingering at the corners of her mouth. Two days ago, they raided the Collector ship, and the same specter that killed her two years prior had unmade her again. The Lazarus’s time, money, and scientific genius all brought to ruin with the sharp sting of betrayal and the unsteady lurch of a platform. Two days ago she was, in some ways, as two years ago- meat and tubes, raw and exposed, a lost cause. Today, healing began again. Not on a gurney, not under a knife, not with stitches and cybernetics, but in the arms of a friend, under their protection, with kindness and caring—and some very big guns.

Everything was going to be okay. And even better with coffee.

[fancyfeathers]

Society of Protection (Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x reader x original characters) (normalized yandere au)

Chapter Twenty

Dangerous Dance

Prologue and oc intro

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven, part one

Chapter seven, part two

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

The day of the charity ball has come at last, you had been supplied a dress from Miss Jane’s old closet which she did say was open to you. Emma and the doctor had helped you pick it out along with Emma helping with small alterations to it for you. Now you are walking through the hallway filled with doors to society members apartments, some doors open and people coming in and out, Alexandre needing help tying his tie, Henrik helping Lewis put on his mask, and so on. You had just finished your hair and makeup and were dressed in a long white dressing robe, it felt like something a victorian lady would have worn, the society truly spares no expense. As you neared the end of the hallway you saw the door to Leo’s room wide open, you peaked in and sawLeo sitting on one of the couches, book in hand, across from him sat that boy, Karma, the one Leo and Gaston had saved.

“Leo?” You called out from the hallway, catching the Russian’s attention. He turned to look at you before setting his book down and walking over to you, standing in the doorway. You noticed he wasn’t getting dressed for the ball, just a simple white button up and black pants. “Aren’t you going to get ready?”

“I am afraid not.” He gave a slight laugh with a bit of an awkward smile coming across his face. “I am going to be staying here, I feel rather uncomfortable leaving Karma alone with Fyodor running around the city somewhere.”

“I see.” You glanced over to that young man sitting on the couch, he seemed caught in his own mind. You truly did not know much about Karma besides his name and where he came from, he did not talk much to anyone besides Leo, Gaston, and Dr. Stevenson. “Will he be alright? He seems so scared all the time.”

“He should be in due time. He’s been working with Dr. Stevenson with digesting what happened, both mentally and physically.” Leo paused before shaking his head with a small chuckle under his breath. “But you shouldn’t be worrying about that much at the moment, go get ready. I’ll see you when you return, my dear.”

“Goodbye Leo.” You briskly answered with a thin smile coming onto your face at the nickname. You turned away from the Russian and continued down to Emma’s and William’s apartment to retrieve your dress that Emma had adjusted for you. Like most other doors right now theirs was open, and when you peaked inside you saw Emma helping William tie his tie and Dr. Stevenson sitting on a couch, a cup of tea in hand. 

Each of them was dressed absolutely beautifully, Emma dressed in a long red and maroon gown, a corseted bodice with golden details and long sleeves that flowed down to the floor, a halo like crown on her head, and you could only guess that her mask would be just as dramatic. William wore a a blue suit, with frills at the collar and at the end of the sleeves, over it he wore a formal military style jacket, tied over his shoulder with a silver rope that matched the decals on his outfit. Lastly the doctor was dressed in something you would have never expected, a long mermaid style dress, red, with lace that curved up her body that gave the illusion that if something slipped it might reveal something that one may or may not want to see. 

“Oh (Name), come in, come in.” The baroness said, waving you in as soon as she noticed you and finished with her husband’s tie. She then looked at William, kissing him on the cheek before shoeing him out. “Now you, out, out, I have to help (Name) get in her dress.”

There was laughter from the couple as you stepped into the apartment and Emma closed the door after William. She grabbed you hand and lead you over to a wooden dressing screen that had your dress hanging from it. The baroness waved you over to it. “Go on.”

You slipped behind the cover, and you undid the tie to your robe, leaving you in your undergarments. You then grabbed the dress, taking it from the hanger and pulling it over your body, it was a long white gown, an outer corset that was for more for show than functions puffy sleeves and a lacy collar. You stepped out once you were clothed, turning so the baroness could lace up the back of the dress. You felt her brush your hair away, her finger grazing your collarbone and neck ever so slightly. You could feel the first pull of lace and her words rang in your head. “Now a woman with a dress is a frightening and powerful thing. You are not a child when you're draped in gold and lace.”

You felt yourself grow slightly embarrassed at her word, not knowing what to say. You felt her hands lean over to take yours and lean you over to the full length mirror that had been set out and you saw yourself. You felt beautiful. You felt important. She was right, a with in a dress is a powerful thing. You could see the Baroness in the mirror behind you, adjusting your hair from where she moved it. “You are such a lovely thing. Oh, where have you been? It's such a shame to bury pearls in the country, so charming.”

You saw the doctor in the mirror behind the two of you, nodding at the noblewoman’s words. You smiled before your hands unfolded and let go of the other and went to to relax at your side as you turned around and looking over your shoulder to get a better look at yourself. You looked like a character from a fairytale book, like a princess.

You hummed with a smile, looking over at the two other woman in the room who were admiring you. “I should finish getting ready, I’ll see you in a while-“

“One last thing.” The doctor said, standing up from where she sat and set her cup of tea on the table. She walked over to you and reached over grabbing you by the waist abruptly. You felt yourself grown flustered as the doctor reached where the corset met the skirt and- pulled out a knife, hidden in the boning of the corset. Now you felt yourself grow embarrassed at your flustering as she slipped it back into the corset. “A hidden compartment, my idea. Given our line of work and what you’ll be doing it may be smart to have this. Now run along now.”

You nodded in your embarrassment state before scurrying out of the apartment and made your way back to your own. On the way you saw Gaston’s door open and you saw him adjusting his mask in the mirror in his front entryway. His outfit was exactly what you would except, something very theatrical, the mask of red death. A red Victorian style suit, along with a long scarlet cape and and a skull mask on his upper face, and unlike his normal hair style or fluff and curls, his hair was slicked back. Without looking at you he spoke, a teasing tone creeping in his voice. “I’m a traditional person, and I refuse to see without your mask, do run along if you’re not wearing it. I will see your full face at midnight.”

You smile before continuing on and you would hear the soft laughter from the composer behind you as you walked off. You return back to your room in Miss Jane’s old apartment and sit down at the dresser and you took the two black cases from Victor and opened them revealing the jewelry he had gotten you all that time ago, a gold necklace with diamonds and opals planted into it, along with it is a matching set of earrings, and lastly a tiara made with the same materials but along with that golden butterfly and jeweled flowers. You took your time placing each item on and admiring yourself, the necklace, the earrings, and then the tiara. Then at last you stood up and took the mask that was resting on the dresser, a mask that covers your upper face, gold and pink stripes, golden lace, and a pink fake flowers on the corner. You took the ribbon and tied it around your head, making sure it was secure before looking yourself over in the mirror before setting out into the hallway, ready for the night to begin. 

—————————

You stood off at the edge of the ballroom at the hotel, this may be a business related event but the society certainly knows how to show off. Not a single expense was spared, flowers, long golden ribbons of fabric, and candles, hung all around the room. The hall way filled with music from a small orchestra band, people who actually worked at the Paris Opera House with Gaston. You hand helped yourself to a glass of champagne that was being handed out by the servers all around the room along with small pastries, a preference of many the society members you’ve noticed. Along with all that the guests, you saw so many, some famous, some rich, and other close friends and allies. Some of these faces were recognizable like the friendly and familiar face of Mr. Tonan, or the head of the police department of the city who wore his uniform. Others were not so recognizable, like you couldn’t spot Mr. Tonan’s unsettling assistant nor the Hunting Dogs, but seeing as Jouno snuck into the headquarters of the Society without being noticed he could be anywhere and you wouldn’t notice.

“Lovely, is it not?” You heard a voice speak from beside you, you turn you head to see a masked William, standing at your side. “Emma did a lovely job planning this evening.”

“Yes, it is.” You answered, continuing to look around the room before your eyes landed on the doctor talking to an older bald man and a younger man around your age with black hair and glasses and a beauty mark on his lower face, they clearly are business rather that fitting with the aesthetics of the evening. 

“William, who are they?” You asked, pointing over to them with the hand that held your champagne to make it look less noticeable. William glanced over and hummed and his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Those are member of the Special Division for Unusual Powers, Santōka Taneda and Ango Sakaguchi, respectively. They sort of monitor people like us, Armed Detective Agency, and the Port Mafia. They don’t tend to favor us much given our social views.” William answered, his eyes still focused on them. “Victor ticked them off a few months ago during the fog incident apparently so they have been pressing very hard on us these last few months. The doctor likely had them invited to help smooth things over.”

“Do you think it will work?” You question again, looking back over at the group.

“No way in hell, they are searching for any bit of dirt on us right now. A lot of government officials are viewing us a disruption to the “social order” of the city., including them.” William spoke with a scoff and with venom when he said the words “social order”, referring to the normalized behavior of relationships in the world. He grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby server, offering them a smile and a small thank you. “Personally I think if they could they would hand us over to god knows who. I heard from Gaston that they were relieved when Miss Jane handed herself over to Fitzgerald, shows where their morals lay. They were afraid of Miss Jane, she is a powerful woman, not just with her ability but with her connections.”

“So what I’m hearing is avoid them at all costs?” You asked before taking a sip of your own drink, which William nodded to.

“Exactly, specifically for you that Ango. From what I hear you two have the same if not similar abilities, his just more refined.” William pointed again to the black haired man with the beauty mark. “He’s someone who’s would be able to read you like a book without a thought.”

“So you’re saying he’s better than me.” You said briefly and a looking of non serious panic came on his face. 

“No, no, no, I did not say that-“

“Mmm, sounds like you did.”

“(Name)…”

You then scanned over the ballroom again before noticing Gaston talking to a blond man, again not dressed to the occasion, it actually did not seem that he belonged here. He wore orange sunglasses and a long tan coat and a cap covering his head. You didn’t recognize him. “William, and who is that?”

William’s eyes focused on the man again before giving a very simple answer. “Another man we all need to avoid, Yukito Ayatsuji. Him and Miss Jane have a bit of a history.”

“Then why is he here? Uninvited?”

“No I’m guessing the Special Division brought him, so that’s where Gaston comes into play.” William said as he raised his wrist to check the time. “They want to catch us in the act of getting Miss Jane back, so while Gaston talks to him and distracts him, we can just slip away.”

“How much longer till the auction?” You asked, trying to peer over at his watch.

“Two hours, the night is still young.” You heard as William patted your shoulder. “Now I am going to go find my wife, I’ll find you when it’s time.”

You watched William walk off into the crowd to find Emma. Then not a moment later you felt a hand come to rest atop your should where William’s was. You spun around to see the all to familiar face of Jouno of the Hunting Dogs, dressed in his uniform albeit a nicer more formal version.

“Miss Jane, hm?”

“Jouno, please don’t get involved with this.” You asked, doing your best not to make a scene with the Hunting Dog next to you, not to mention all the people in the room. “Nothing we’re doing tonight is technically illegal.”

“That is true, but we’ll see how true that stays.” He said, his face never facing away from yours. “I can only imagine if something goes down hill, having to shoot or stab someone, or if your abilities come into play. You don’t have your gifted business permit yet so that means if you or your friend use your abilities in such a public place and let alone against somebody you’ll completely shatter the society and then you’ll be placed in whatever government custody they choose.”

You felt your heart beat stop at Jouno’s words, but this only lasted a moment before Jouno yelped in pain as he had done in the hospital. You looked over his shoulder and saw the familiar and a tad more welcome face of Tecchou. 

“Knock it off, you’re scaring her.” You watched as Tecchou sheath his sword before walking over to you and bowing. “I am so sorry for my co worker’s behavior, ma’am.”

Did Tecchou not recognize you? But then how did Jouno recognize you… then you remembered Jouno’s memory is based on hearing, smell, and touch, not sight. So Tecchou couldn’t recognize you… you could use this.

“It’s alright, sir.” You replied, putting on your best meek tone. “I just got so scared, I had no idea what he was on about.”

You watched as a look through f shock come across Jouno’s face at your clear lie but Tecchou just continued, completely oblivious to the situation.

“I apologize, do enjoy the rest of your evening.” Tecchou replied as you walked off, leaving Jouno who was trying to explain the situation to Tecchou but of course Tecchou does not believe him. Meanwhile you ran off to find your other society members. You mingle with guest and friends, meeting people you would never get to meet without the society. As you are getting a drink from one of the waitstaff you hear…

“Miss (Name).” You turn to see Dr. Stevenson walking over to you, accompanied by that black haired man from earlier, Ango. In your mind your mind rings those words…

“So what I’m hearing is avoid them at all costs?”

So much for avoidance…

[benevolentgodloki]

@compassofsouls continued from here:

 Luka. Well, the stranger seemed well enough to retain a name, if not much else were he Time Lord. The mystery only seemed to deepen at the mention of a TemPad; expressive brows furrowed though Theta fought to show little else. He’d have had to be especially ignorant to believe a TARDIS the only means of such travel, but he’d not heard of much managing to get inside a TARDIS.

Quite suddenly he began to wonder if he should have paid attention at the Academy. There was no Doctor to come swooping in, now.

No, fuck it: he could handle this himself. He’d always managed on his own before, and improvisation was second nature. This was his to explore and, honestly, why shouldn’t it? He could count this as one of the first mysteries he’d solved solo – maybe he’d even earn some respect if this Time Lord could be restored.

“Well, you know what they say: even the best fuck up sometimes, right girl?” he patted the console fondly, receiving an indignant rumble in return before he gestured to the newcomer and waggled his fingers. “Alright, tell you what – you don’t have to let me have it, but can I at least take a look at this TemPad whassamacallit? If where you’ve been has a bunch’a these I’d rather protect this place from having any more guests. You’re just lucky I had my clothes on, mind.”

Loki laughed at his host's joke, masking for all he was worth the sudden guardedness he felt at having the TemPad asked after. There wasn't a chance in hel he was going to risk his only known means of transport in the hands of a stranger.

Keeping his manner as pleasant as he could manage, he gave the man an apologetic smile.

"I regret I am not permitted to hand it over, classified technology and all that. The best I can do is to show you it from a distance and I can demonstrate a little of its function."

He reached inside his pocket and conjured an illusion out of sight. When he withdrew his hand, he held a duplicate of the TemPad, which he turned to show the man, revealing the usual features of its display.

[medicus-mortem]

@cnigiri answered [+]

Why , why did the dumbass devil fruit users never pay attention to the water . No , he should rephrase that . Why did Luffy never pay attention to the water ?!

Yet here he was coughing and spitting up a storm , on the boat safe and sound in Law’s place , fucker swapped them out last second with his devil fruit power . He doesn't hesitate though , even if it wasn't Luffy , and while Sanji was the better swimmer , it didn't matter , he always dove in . Sanji took too long taking off shirt and shoes . He didn't give a shit about anything but his swords , which were easily chucked to the grass safe and sound while he dove in .

The cold splash woke up his senses and he glanced about , salt stinging his eyes , but at this point he'd gotten very much used to it . At least Law was holding his breath and looking like he was attempting in vain to struggle and swim upwards , Luffy just sank now a days , too reliant on people , even if it always worked out .

Strong strokes with powerful arms before a hand clasps onto Laws jacket and he's dragged towards the surface , breaching and gasping out before yanking him up and over onto his shoulders to breathe and try and shrug off the sluggishness the water gave all devil fruit users .

" You alright ? " He questions , wiping water from his eyes and beginning to swim back towards the ship .

   The moment he submerged that inescapable weight pressed down on him. It felt like a hand had reached out of the depths and wrapped icy fingers around his chest. The grip crushes the air from his lungs, his whole body becoming far too heavy to move. The motions of his coat swirl up the water, creating the illusion of motion but the sea is cruel to Devil Fruit users. It saps their power and drags them down into it’s waiting depths.

   Law’s eyes stare up at the retreating light dancing on the waves above him. He watches it fade, watches his own eyesight grow dim. One would think there would be rage in his mind, a great hatred towards the idiot who’s fault this predicament is, but there isn’t. There is a moment of peace, of acceptance. His lungs ache but maybe this wouldn’t that bad a way to go.

   A shadow passes into his fading vision and a hand latches onto his clothes. It tugs him out of the ocean’s dragging grip and Law feels his body pulled to the surface. Soon enough him and his rescuer break through the waves, air hitting his face and trying to enter waterlogged lungs. Law is unceremoniously thrown over a muscular shoulder. Yes, this is uncomfortable and more than a little demeaning but at least he’s mostly out of the water now.

   He coughs and splutters, retching up sea water back into the ocean. He manages to get it all out, the doctor soon taking in a shaky and pained breath. His body still feels weak, limbs heavy, but it isn’t the draining hopelessness he felt moments ago. A part of him does droop some, the Surgeon of Death a little disappointed he survived.

   “Yeah,” he croaks in response to Zoro’s question. He blinks sea water and salt from his eyes, a hand moving to push damp hair from his face. At least his hat stayed on shore. “Just get me on land so I can kick your captain’s stupid face in.”

[shinescape]

What are we?

Neighbour Yunho x Fem Reader

Requested!

note: bf material Yunho is what matters. Saving the anon who requested this from the drought. Enjoy the read!

They seem to think you were lying this whole time about being in a relationship and you’re about to prove them wrong. You’re starting to regret making friends with the two girls in front of you as one was scrolling on her phone and the other watching you with a smirk and arms crossed over her chest.

“I guess we were right. You took some random guy’s photo and showed it to us for the past three months. What’s new I guess?” You swore to cut ties with them after this, making friends in college was full of meaningless lies that you had to make up to keep them stay with you. But seeing how these two only care about your love life, might as well shove it into their faces and leave for good.

“Oh he’ll be here alright. Just running a bit late.” You said through gritted teeth as the girl who has been on her phone finally looked up at you. “I think he either ditch you or he doesn’t actually exist. I think we should go shopping-”

“Baby, there you are!” Her words were cut off by the voice that you hate to hear but glad that he finally came to shut these pretty faces up. “You got lost again, am I right?” You asked as he made his way to sit beside you and pull you in for a side hug. He smiled at you sheepishly before turning to your friends.

“You guys must be her friends. I’m Yunho, nice to meet you.” He waved a little and the only thing they did was blink at him, mouth slightly agape. You rolled your eyes and tapped Yunho on the arm. “You want to order anything, the smoothies here are nice.”

He turned to you and you swore his smile was way too fake to not be fooled. “Nah, I’ll share with you. So why did you call me here?” He took your drink without hesitation and sipped from the same straw you did earlier.

You watch in horror at his actions and the girls were as shocked as you were. They haven’t said a word since he came and you knew you already won. “My friends thought you’re an illusion I made but turns out you’re real.” If a smile could kill, yours would strike through their hearts that instant.

He laughed and looked at them. “You probably thought a girl like her won’t have a boyfriend right? But turns out I’m real.” His words sounded like it's mocking you instead of reassuring that you’re indeed taken.

“Now that you see him, say something. Did I lie?” You cocked an eyebrow at them and watched how they were fumbling with their words at the same time trying to appear presentable in front of your boyfriend.

“Fine. We believe you.” One of them said but you weren’t done yet. “I think you have something more to say to me.” They rolled their eyes and looked straight at you. “We’re sorry okay.” There was a short silence before one of them spoke again, “So tell us how you meet. He can’t be the one chasing you right?”

Your fingers curled on the table and were ready to lunge at them when Yunho’s palm stopped you from it. He smiled at them and was about to say something when his phone rang.

He excused himself and took the call. After a minute or so, he looked at them and back at you. He came closer to you and whispered to your ear. It was uncomfortable but you had to keep your cool.

“I forgot that I promised the guys to go to the movies. Can I leave?” You pushed him away because his voice was tickling your ears. “Yeah sure. No worries, babe.” He patted your head and saw the look in your eyes, as if telling him this is not over yet.

“Is there something wrong, Yunho?” Both of you turn to the voice and he let off a chuckle. How dare she say his name with that made up cute voice of hers, you thought annoyed.

“Yunho has to go back home, his mother needs him to fix a new cupboard she bought. Right?” “Ah yes. I’m sorry to suddenly leave like this. You girls have fun alright. See you later, baby. Love you.” He went straight to kiss you on the temple and stood up, jogging out from the shop. You were still trying to process what happened as the girls had curiosity written on their faces.

“You both have fun shopping, I have somewhere else to be.” You ran out before they could get more lies from you. Honestly, you have no other plans then going home and rethink about this fake relationship you had with your neighbour as well as childhood friend, Jung Yunho.

Yunho is your ‘on-call boyfriend’ meaning that he’ll come and as much as you hate to admit, rescue you when you get stuck in sticky situations like earlier. It started as a joke but somehow he agreed with no further questions. But today he really went overboard with the display of affection that you strongly thought was unnecessary.

- What’s with the PDA earlier?-

- I thought we were supposed to be convincing?-

-Exactly. Convincing not realistic-

He replied with a string of laughing emojis right after and you clicked your phone off, annoyed. He should explain at least but what if it’s not what you wanted to hear? Pushing back the thought away, you decided to stop by your favourite bakery before heading back home. Trying not to think too much about what happened earlier.

Weeks passed by and you stopped hanging out with the girls and was friendless around campus. It felt lonely but at least no one was bothering you about your life anymore.

They still talked to you but you made sure they were not invading your bubble anymore after that incident. That stupid incident where you remembered everything Yunho did on his own accord without feeling guilty or embarrassed as you were.

You were in your room, doing nothing but staring at the books lined up on your desk. How you wish that memory would disappear from your head but that’s not going to happen so easily.

“Honey, can you give this to Yunho?” Your mother passed you a bag filled with dishes she made for dinner. “Why can’t you go give it to him?” She patted your thigh a couple of times and left.

“What is with everyone not giving me proper answers these days?!” You stood up angrily and took the bag with you. With a sour face, you left the house and made a few steps to the front and knocked on his door. It’s that close yet your mother always made you do it.

The door opened and it was not Yunho or his parents. “Yes?” Your eyes were glued on the stranger’s face that you forgot what to say. “Is Yunho here?” He told you to wait for a while before shouting out for your neighbour. You stood there smiling as he accompanied you at the door.

The moment Yunho appeared you grabbed his arm. “Who was that guy?” Yunho looked at you suspiciously. “My friend...no more questions. I’m not giving out free info.” He shook his head at you.

“Your dinner. Bye” You gave him the bag and was about to leave when he stopped you. “Thank you.” You gave him a weird look. “Your welcome. You’re acting weird these days, it’s not too late to see the doctor.” With that, Yunho stared at your closed door before retreating back only to find curious eyes waiting for him. “I’m not explaining anything.”

Another day, another errand from your dearest mother. You were currently walking back home with no other than Yunho. “Don’t you get bored seeing my face everyday?” You asked him all of a sudden. “Not really. Why?” “I feel like I see you so much lately. It’s bothersome.” You grumbled and adjusted your grip on the grocery bags on both hands.

“Well, I’m not leaving any time soon. So expect more I guess.” He joked that made you elbowed his arm in return. You thought it was time to tell him about what’s been bothering you these days, he was a part of it so it’s now or never. “Yunho, I think you should stop being my on-call boyfriend. No one is bothering me anymore.” You explained.

“Then, should I be your boyfriend instead?” You stopped walking and looked at him. He can’t be serious? But he’s not even laughing. “I mean your mum knows I like you so I guess if you’re okay then we can just date.” He continued on as if it’s nothing.

“Wait, my mum knows what? You like me? You’re kidding right?” Your hands were hurting so you started to walk again, not caring whether he answered you or not. It was like that day with the girls where you had to process everything.

“Don’t you want to try it out?” His words sound so foreign to your ears. You hated to think that this was happening and he’s waiting for you to answer. “We’ve been friends since forever. I don’t think it’s going to make any difference.” You said not putting much thought in your words.

“Exactly. What’s the difference, we’re going to see each other like usual.” Yunho peeked at your face and saw how unhappy you looked. “I’ve kissed you a good amount of times so what’s the problem now.” Your eyes widened at his words but luckily he didn’t notice.

The problem is you don’t want to believe that you’re catching feelings for him. That’s what it was this whole time. “I’ll date you if you answer this question.” He looked way too calm about this and it scared you a bit. “Sure, what is it?”

“The day when you had to leave for the movies, did you like me back then too?” You bit your lips, obviously nervous about his answer. “I’ve liked you way before that. That’s why your mum kept on making you send food to me every now and then.”

It has been that long. Your apartment was already in sight and his words were still ringing in your ears but the group of boys watching you and Yunho made you stop functioning altogether.

“There you are! Your mum told us you went out. Oh, who is she?”

With a confident smile, he answered. “My girlfriend”

[i-am-baechu]

Title: Human  | ♞ | | ♚ | | ♛ | 

Paring: Park Jimin x reader 

Genre: Slice of life au, Angst, Romance and Fluff

Summary: A girl who accepted her fate with her health and a dancer that can easily get better from his injuries. The two are opposite within health and personality but they mix so well together that nothing else mattered but them.  

Warnings: Illusions of PTSD, surgery scars, panic attacks and talk of panic attacks, hospitals, mention of getting a shot and illusions of a eating disorder 

Author’s note: This is from personal experience. ✨

May 10th

Another day, another treatment. It’s been two years since her accident and everyone around her has moved on but her. How can one move on when everyday you see your surgery scar or have nightmares of the accident. Two years and everything is at a stand still. A never ending loop that mocks her. 

“I can help you here!”

She gave a soft smile to the lady at the front desk. She saw her so many times but never had the chance to ask for her name, too nervous to ask anything other than what she had scripted on her phone, “Oh, I have an appointment today...at noon.” 

The clicking noises of the keyboard made her eyebrow twitch but she tried her best to keep her face straight, “L/N Y/N?” 

“Ummm...Yes.” Did I really have to think about that question? For crying out loud it’s my own name, so stupid- 

“Can I see an ID to confirm?” 

“Of course.” 

Her shaking hands opened her wallet as she went through the countless cards that she swore she would throw them away, “Here it is.” 

She clicks away on her keyboard and gives her a small smile, “It says here you have a copay of fifteen dollars, let me bring it up and you can pay.” 

“Oh okay.” 

She waited for the okay from the lady and started to look around her. She stared at her mother’s car outside the window of the facility as she bit her lip. “Okay it's ready for you.” 

She immediately put her card into the machine and typed her pin into it to finalize another payment for her health. She took her card out when the machine accepted her card and gave her a final smile, “Alright, you're all in. She’ll be out here in a few minutes.” 

“Ah, thank you.” 

She sat down in the chair that was in the far corner away from everyone else waiting for their own appointments. She unlocked her phone to read some news or answer messages from her friends. Even when she answered the messages, she reread the past messages to make it look like she was busy (Even though she knew, no one cared). 

“Y/N L/N?” 

She looked up and was welcomed with the smile that she grew used to, “Hey, Y/N. How’s it going? 

“My left leg just hurts, it's normal at this point but I did make cookies with my mom.” 

“Oh, what kind of cookies?” 

They made their way towards a room to get ready for Y/N physical therapy, something she's grown used to. The nurse and her talked about random things such as cooking and then the discussion went towards her leg. Her smile turned into a frown as she let out a deep sigh, “I’ve noticed that when the weather changes to colder temperature, my leg hurts more and it feels like pulsing pain and almost burning.” 

“Have you been doing your workouts or is that too much for you?” 

She shook her head and she looked down at her fingers, “I’ve been doing them every morning or at least try.”

“Is it too much for you though?” 

“No but there are some days where I can barely move?” 

The sympathetic face made her feel worse because she can’t get better no matter what she does. She's at the same place she was two years ago, “Have you talked to your doctor about it? I don’t think physical therapy can improve your hip but your knee seems to be doing better. Make an appointment with your doctor and tell him what I think it is. I think it's chronic pain, nerve damage, Y/N.” 

“I figured...” 

“But there’s a physical therapist here that teaches a class on chronic pain and how to manage it. I think you would benefit from it.” 

“I would love to be in it, thank you.” 

The physical therapist leaves her side with a small smile as Y/N looks down at the exercise machine in front of with sad eyes. At least this time she got an answer from a doctor instead of being sent to another doctor to get the same answer. The times she wished she could make it stop, it's uncountable. She hears someone sitting next to her and she turns her head to see a man with dark brown hair that was pushed back to show his forehead. He looked irritated as if he didn’t want to be there. She saw him lift his foot up and she figured he was working out his calf muscles. It wasn’t until he turned his eyes towards her with raised eyebrows and a small smile, “So, how long have you been here?” 

It’s not a jail sentence, “Oh...I’ve been in and out of here for a year now. They're very nice and they listen to you whenever you talk...it keeps you company.” 

“I just started today. I was dancing and landed wrong and my group told me to go, so here I am.” 

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

“What makes sense?” 

She gulped and shook her head, “Oh, I meant. It's just you look so angry to be here. It makes sense because it wasn’t your choice.” 

He let out a small chuckle before looking at her, “Was this your choice?” 

She let out a deep scoff and rolled her eyes before looking at him, “Not really. A car decided that for me.” 

“Oh..I’m so sorry.” 

“At least it's a good two truth and one lie scenario, most people think it's a lie and I easily get the point.”

He gave a deep chuckle and stopped his workout to give her his full attention, “I’m Jimin.” 

“I’m Y/N.” 

June 3rd 

Another day, Another treatment. She opened the door and saw Jimin sitting waiting for her while he looked through his phone. She let a smile appear and let his name escape her mouth causing him to look up with confusion but replacing it with a wide smile when he saw her. 

“Y/N. I just finished my last session when you texted me you were on your way.”

“Oh, Jimin. You don’t have to wait for me.” 

“I thought you were done with all of your sessions?” 

“I’m taking classes here. Teaching me about my chronic pain and my nerve issues, boring but helpful.” 

“Nerve issues?” 

She nodded her head and turned to see the teacher give her a gentle wave, “I signed in through my phone because I was running late. Jimin, please don’t wait. It’s already two in the afternoon and you finished your session, you must be tired.” 

“I’ll wait for you, don't worry. I’ll tell your mom to go home, so I can take you home.” 

She bit her lip in nervousness but shook her head, “I would love to, but I’m scared to drive with someone other than my parents. I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s just after my-”

“You don’t need to explain yourself. I may not get it but I can try to get it. I’ll still wait for you though.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“If it involves you then yes, I am very sure.”  

Her face flushed a little and smiled at him, “Okay. It should be an hour sometimes longer than that, sorry in advance.” 

He watched her walk away and waved back at her with a huge grin on his face. He took his phone out and messaged the group chat with the other members, I’m going to be late. 

An hour passed and he was reading an article on Webmd but was stopped when he saw Y/N walking towards him and that smile came through, “How did it go?” 

She let a deep sigh out and sat next to him, “It went fine.”

“Oh, that's good then.”

“That’s the problem. Everything was fine but me. I wasn’t fine.”

He grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, “Why?” 

“I know this is what my life is now but I can’t accept it because someone else caused it. It’s so stupid, I should be over it but...Should I be over it because everyone else is?”

“No, no. You should go through it at your own pace. No one is rushing you.” 

“It feels like that though. Everyone wants me to get better but I can’t because there’s always something else wrong with me.” 

“The one good thing I can say is that, you're here with me right now. Your breathing and I can feel your warmth. You should focus on that more, Y/N.”

She looked at him as he was already staring at her with the smile she's now used to, “I can feel your warmth too, I guess that makes me happy.” 

“You guess?” 

“I said what I said.” 

June 30th

 I’m outside 

She raised her eyebrows and got up from her couch to look outside her window to confirm the text. She let a smile escape and put her shoes on by the stairs. Looked up the stairs with a smile, “Mom! Dad! I’ll be outside for a bit!” 

Not bothering to wait for an answer she walked outside in excitement to see him leaning against his car in a tan shirt and jeans looking casual but on him it was something else. She didn’t know what model it was but whatever the model was, the car was sure shiny. “What a surprise.” 

“I thought I would drop off some bubble tea and some fish cake for you. I remember you telling me you were craving it.” 

She let out a chuckle as she watched him pull it out of his car with excitement in his eyes, like a child in a candy shop but cuter. She took the fishcake and tea and gave him a frown, “I have extra croissants in the kitchen, maybe take a couple for yourself and the others.” 

“No need.” 

“But I feel bad.” 

He brought his hands up to her checks and squished them gently, “I wanted to do this for you. Don’t feel bad.” 

When he brought his hand down he watched her puff up cheeks slightly and thought it was cute. 

“How about we eat it together?” 

“Y/N, are you asking me out on a date?” 

“I-I, No. I just wanted to make sure you eat nothing more and nothing less. Don’t look into it.” 

“Whatever you want.” 

July 9th

“My therapist thought it would be good for me to come out...” 

“You don’t sound so happy about it.” 

She tilted her head at Jimin and shook her head as the loudness of the restaurant increased, “It's not that...it’s just....so loud.” There’s too many people here, why couldn’t we hang out in my bedroom watching a movie? 

“You don’t think it will be good for you?” 

“You're not my therapist, I’m not paying you to tell me what to do.” 

“But I'm paying for dinner so, eat.” 

“Mean...”

She picked up her fork and stared at her food with a blank expression. He knew that she hasn’t been eating lately because of her nerves and her panic attacks. What a smart man, taking me out in public because he knows I would feel bad. Especially with the touch of paying for dinner. Asshole. 

She took a bite of her chicken as she felt his eyes on her, “You don’t need to stare.” 

“I’m just making sure you're eating.” 

“I do eat-”  

“Not enough, though.” 

She rolled her eyes and took another bite of the food when she started hearing shouting in the kitchen. She turned her head slowly and everything went blurry. All the voices started to mix together and she brought both of hands to clench the front of her shirt, her lungs felt like it was taking their last breath. She kept trying to lift her head up to look at Jimin but she couldn’t, if she did she felt like her neck would break. 

“Y/N?”

She didn’t lift her head from her lap as she choked out, “We need to leave.” 

“Okay, we’ll leave...Let me just pay for this first, okay?” 

She nodded her head and heard his chair move,  I knew it was too early for this. She closed her eyes and brought her hands up to cover her ears. She felt so embarrassed for having this attack in front of him, it was something she wanted to hide. She only wanted him to see her happiness or what she thought was her being happy. She let out a cough out to hide her silent sob but she knew someone heard it and she hated that. She felt a hand on her shoulder and the smell that she became familiar with made her somewhat at ease. She grabbed her things and stood up slowly, not wanting to faint from the sudden movement.

She gripped his hand that was now holding hers tightly. She continued to stare at the ground not wanting to make eye contact with him as he led her out of the restaurant. The cold air hit her bare legs as he dress skirt moved with the wind making her feel like something was wrapping a blanket around her. She heard the car door getting opened and tossed her things into the car without hesitation. She jumped into the car closing the door as fast as she could. She finally let out the sob that she was holding as she started to cry. She heard the car door open but couldn’t move to look at him as she cried harder. She felt his stare and a small whisper from him made her rush into his chest, “Y/N, come here.”

She went towards him and straddled his waist, putting her face into his chest and let the tears out. He rubbed her back kissed the top of her head, something that didn’t go unnoticed by her. He put his fingers under her chin to make her look at him, “Jimin, I’m so sorry.”

“There’s no need to say sorry. I’m still here.”

She let out deep breath out as she shook her head, “I-I ruined everything. I made you waste money and the restaurant wasted food because of me. That food would’ve looked so good, I know my mom would love it. I CAN’T EVEN HAVE DINNER. I’M SO USELESS-“

“Y/N.”

He’s stern voice made her stop and she stared at him as more tears run down her face. He gently wiped the tears away to give her small smile as he tried not to cry in front of her, “You are not useless. Far from it.”

“But I ruined-“

“We can have dinner another day together. It’s fine. Things happen.”

She stared at him and shook her head, “I-I shouldn’t be crying over something so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it makes you cry.”

He pushed some hair back to see her glossy eyes and gave her tiny smile. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You are not useless. Please don’t ever say that about yourself especially in front of me.”

She didn’t say anything but she leaned forward to put her forehead on his shoulder as he rubbed her back. The silence was a comfortable one but was ruined when her stomach made a noise. He let out a chuckle, “I guess you didn’t eat that much.”

“I didn’t eat anything all day I wanted to save up for dinner”

“We’ll talk about that later but for now, we’ll go to McDonald’s and we’ll watch that history documentary you started.”

“Really!? You hate history documentaries though.”

“Tonight is about you”

August 16th

“Hi Mrs. L/N. I was wondering if Y/N is okay? She hasn’t been answering my texts today.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Jimin. She forgot to tell you. She got cortisone shot.”

“A cortisone shot?”

He heard shuffling on the other side and a deep sigh, “Her doctor wanted to see if it helped her but she’s been laying in bed all day since this morning. She’s either moaning in pain or sleeping.”

“I’ll be there.”

He grabbed his jacket off of his chair and Hoseok raised his eyebrow at him, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Y/N, she needs me.”

Hoseok nodded his head and waved him off, “Tell her hi for me.”

“If I remember.”

He fast walked out of the dorm avoiding conversations with Jin and Jungkook who were arguing over banana milk. When he got into his car he couldn’t think of anything else by Y/N. The pain she must be experience right now. Webmd said the area was going to be sore but he know Y/N is weak against medication and shots. He pulled into a parking of grocery store to pick up random snacks and drinks she liked, as well as food that he knew her family liked.

He parked his car outside her house and knocked on the door to meet her father, “Hello, Mr. L/N.”

“Hey Jimin? Did you need something?”

“Oh, I heard Y/N got a shot and I wanted to visit her. I also brought you your favorite snacks.”

“Thanks? She’s in her room sleeping right now. The doors cracked open.”

He nodded his head and headed up the stairs as he felt the stare from her father but ignored it. He opened the door and saw her sleeping on her right side. He let small laugh out when he saw her cartoon pajama pants and sent the plastic bags on the floor when her dog came running towards him. He quietly cooed at the dog as he made his way to see Y/N’s face. He smiled at the peacefulness she had and crouch down to push hair out of her face and stared at her lips. Next time. 

He gently shook her shoulders as she let out a deep moan and she wiped her mouth as he saw some drool, “Mom, I don’t want to eat. I’m so tired.” 

“Sorry I’m not your mom but I am your Jimin.”

Her eyes shot wide opened and turned her head towards him as she let out a deep moan, “You saw nothing.”

“But I saw everything. How is everything?”

She rolled onto her back with her eyebrows furrowed, “My doctor offered a shot and he explained to me everything it can do. It sounded great but then he injected it. That was the worst feeling I have ever had and I’ve had morphine in my body.”

He shook his head as he let a small laugh escape, “I’m sure it will help.” 

“It fucking better. With how much I hurt, it better make me feel like a new person.” 

September 18th

“So when are we going to meet her, Jimin?” 

He rolled his eyes at Taehyung and put his phone back into his front pocket, “Whenever she feels comfortable.” 

The rest of the group sat on the floor of the practice room with sweat coming down their faces and deep breaths coming out. Hoseok looked up from his water bottle to give him a raised eyebrow, “Is that code for something?” 

“No. She’s just going through something right now and I don’t want to stress her out.” 

His phone buzzed and pulled it out with a smile but was replaced with wide eyes, “I have to go.” 

“Jimin, what about practice?” 

“I have to go guys, I’ll practice tomorrow with you guys. I promise” 

He ran out the room before they could answer and gripped his phone as tight as he could as the message that put him in panic was on full display. This is Y/N’s friend, she fell down the stairs and is in the hospital right now. I know it's late but it would make me feel better if you visited her, she's going to need you. 

She was in the Er with her dad as he pushed some hair back from her face. She gave him a sad smile as she continued to play with her fingers, “I’m sorry dad.” 

“Y/N, you fell because your leg gave out, it’s not your fault.” 

“Still...” 

A doctor opened the door and gave her the same smile she was used to seeing from them, “Miss L/N, we took a look at the x-rays and everything seems to be fine. Your screws in your hip aren’t moving anywhere but I do believe you have a bruised bone now. Put heat or ice, whatever feels comfortable and we’ll send the prescription of pain pills to your pharmacy.”  

She nodded her head and gave the doctor the best smile she could give, “Thank you, doctor.” 

“No worries, have a good night.” 

She watched him leave and let out the deep breath she was holding in and looked over at her dad, “At least it's not broken?” 

“Y/N, don’t joke like that. I’m glad you're fine and it's not worse. Let's get home before your mother has a heart attack.” 

She let out a laugh as her dad helped her off of the bed with his hand. They walked down the hallway slowly and took breaks whenever it was too much for her. He opened the door for her when her eyes landed on a familiar face, “Jimin?” 

He looked up in a rush and walked towards her slowly, “Are you alright?” 

“It's late Jimin, shouldn’t you be resting by now? You worked-”

“Y/N, What happened?” 

She looked up at her father with pleading eyes and he understood what she was asking for, “I’ll be in my car. Text me when you're done so I can drive to the front to pick you up.” 

She nodded her head and Jimin took her hand as he slowly led her to the hospital chairs. He let her gripped onto his arm as she crouched down to sit with pain written over her face, he never felt so helpless in his life. 

“This morning, it didn’t start off the best. I was tired from last night, stayed up all night because of a nightmare and a panic attack I had. I was walking down the stairs and my knee gave up and here we are now.” 

“You had a panic attack?” 

“A few if i’m being honest...” 

“Y/N...” 

He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of her hand as she gave him a small smile, “I don’t need pity-”

“It's not like that, Y/N. It’s me trying to be there for you.” 

“But why?” 

“Because I understand, somewhat. Not physically because each person is different. But the feeling of nothingness, I understand it. No one deserves it but it's bound to happen to most people. As sad as it is, it's true. It’s also because I like you. I really like you.” 

She looked at him with wide eyes and stared at him with shock, “We’ve only known each other for a few months-” 

“I know but I already see the type of person you are within these months. Honestly, it’s been the best few months I've had in years. Your awkwardness and straightforwardness at times made me feel something I haven’t felt since high school.”

“Puberty?” 

“What? No. My heart beats fast when I see your name on my phone or the smile whenever I see you. It makes me happy but not only that I feel complete.” 

She bit her lip and looked down at her lap with a single tear escaping, “How can you like me when everything is wrong with me?” 

He lifted up her chin to make her look at him and he wiped the tears from her face, “Because I don’t see that, Y/N. I only see you. We all go through things in life that changes us emotionally and physically but that’s the beauty of being human.” 

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter ten - “retching and realizations”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.3k

synopsis: y/n encounters some nausea and the experience reveals a couple alarming realizations.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: caveat lector emetophobia - mentions of vomiting

[A/N]: what songs remind you of this story and the nature of the relationship? i wanna start making a delicate playlist!

The sound of vomit slapping the bottom of a metal bucket was horrid. But, what was more horrid was the sound her body made while it was happening. The gagging, heaving, and retching wouldn't normally bother her. However, when there was someone else with her, holding her hair out of her face, it was of utmost embarrassment. She pitied poor Bucky's ears.

"I'm sorry," Y/N groaned, resting her forehead on the rim of the bucket. The metal was cool on her otherwise overheated skin. She was sweating and her breath was heavy.

"Don't be sorry," he soothed, rubbing the nape of her neck with his thumb. "It's not your fault."

"Yeah, but this is gross, and now I'm gross. I wouldn't wanna be near it." Her voice was hoarse from the rawness in her throat.

"Oh, stop it. It's fine, it happens to everyone. But to be frank, you're the one putting your face in it right now..."

"I don't wanna throw up on you," she muttered. "I'd rather have my face in the bucket than be cleaning my stomach acid off of you and the floor."

"Eh, I'd forgive you," he shrugged, then held out his wrist to her, revealing an elastic band. "Here, this will help. I'd do it, but... you know."

She coughed, taking the elastic and putting her hair up out of her face. "Thank you. I wish I brought sunglasses."

"Sunglasses?"

"Yeah, this is definitely from sun glare. I had a headache while we were outside and kept squinting. I should've known."

"Why didn't you say anything?" his voice was tender.

"I don't know."

She really didn't.

"Is it any better now?" Bucky inquired after a few beats of empty air.

"I think so. I don't think I even have anything left to throw up."

He chuckled. "Okay, come get your face out of it, then. You don't wanna be smellin' it."

He guided her up slowly with a hand on her back.

She stopped him. "Nope. Nope. I can't. I'm just gonna sit on the floor. I'm not standing now."

He obliged, helping her back down. She leaned against the table, a foot or two away from the bucket. She looked at it miserably.

"Ew."

He squatted down in front of her, looking at her directly and earnestly. "Are you good for now? I wanna go dump the bucket outside, but not if you're still feelin' it."

He was tender, and looked so concerned. It almost made her nervous, being attended to like that; it made her feel exposed. She covered it with humor.

"I think I'm okay now, doctor," she said dryly.

He shook his head, grabbing the bucket and heading up out of the bunker to empty it outside.

"You're the doctor!" he called out.

She closed her eyes to try and keep the nausea at bay. It was then when the world slowed back to normal pace, and she finally felt his thumb on the back of her neck, the sensation ghosting over her skin even after it was physically gone.

Y/N placed the tips of her fingers to the spot, a feather light touch on a searing mark of benevolence and compassion. She wasn't sure what to think of it, logically. Her body seemed to want the warmth to spread like a burn, but her brain wanted never to be that close to him again. Not after that moment at the waterfall.

The reminder almost made her wince; she thought back to it.

-

She floated over to the stairs, and leaned her elbows on the second highest step so that the water settled just below her shoulders.

In response, Bucky sat down at the waters edge, removing his own shoes and socks, rolling up his pant legs and resting his feet in the pool.

"There, now we're meetin' in the middle."

His voice was soft but his eyes were softer. Looking at him felt like silk. She feared if she allowed herself to gaze for too long she'd erode. How could something so gentle make her feel like she'd been shaved down to nothing, reduced to something as mellow and faint as the very water she was floating in.

His skin was dewy from the heat, but it just gave the illusion of a glow. She wondered if everything looked this good on him, if everything about him looked this good. The thought was fleeting in the back of her mind. She tried to ignore it but then she saw his hair and how it framed his face in modest charm. Although the angles softened him further, they gave him an edge that captivated her. Velvety yet sharp. Was the water pushing her closer? She felt bewitched.

What was happening? This is not right. This is definitely, definitely wrong. Such thoughts are innately inappropriate for a doctor-patient relationship. How could she let herself think like this? Y/N was malfunctioning, she was sure of it. This must be some sort of transference effect.

This can't continue. She can't let it. She felt the smile dissipate from her face as she made the realization. This had to stop. Y/N pushed away from him, slowly feeling the magnetism drain from her hazy brain.

"Can we go back now?" she asked. "I think the sun is giving me a headache."

That wasn't a complete lie. She did have a headache, but she didn't necessarily want to go back. She had to.

-

Y/N rubbed her forehead, disappointed in herself and her error. How embarrassing. Being friends with him was fine, but this? These feelings? Unacceptable.

To be honest, she wasn't completely sure what exactly these feelings were. All she knew was that they were wrong. And all she could think about was how wrong they were while she stroked the back of her neck, trying to reignite the feeling from before.

No. She removed her hand.

"You still good down there?" his voice came from the stairs.

"I'm alright."

"I left the bucket outside for the smell, but tell me if you feel like you need it again."

It felt so odd to have him caring for her. It was usually the other way around. Don't get Y/N wrong, he wasn't psychoanalyzing her (not that she'd allow it due to her hatred of Freud) but he was tending to her. Then it struck her.

"Did you used to take care of Steve when he was sick when you guys were kids?"

"All the time, yeah."

Of course. He was a natural. The whole neck thing was just automatic to him.

"Why do you ask?"

"'Cause you're practically a nurse," she snickered.

He smiled, so on principle, Y/N did too.

"Happy to be of service. Is the care up to par?"

He leaned down and sat next to her on the floor.

"Perfect, thank you doctor."

"There you go again just throwin' the doctor title around as if you aren't one," he laughed.

"I'm not a medical doctor, though."

"Might as well be."

"I don't know. Medical school is a lot."

“I wouldn’t know. I never went to college when I was a kid.”

“That’s a shame. I think you would’ve made a great scientist.”

He seemed surprised. “What, like Shuri?!”

“Sure! If you wanted to! You told me you like techy stuff.”

“I like it, but I don’t think I could, ya know, actually do it.”

“Well, maybe Shuri could teach you.”

“I would fail on the first day,” he deadpanned.

“Likely.”

He bumped her shoulder with his. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, doctor.”

The searing feeling was back. It felt good to burn.

She bumped his shoulder back in an over exaggerated fashion. “It’s not good practice to hit your patients doctor.”

“Yeah, well it’s not good practice to threaten to drown your’s.”

She gasped. “Smartass!”

“Uh no, I didn’t go to college, remember? That title is reserved for you only. It’s tied to your name, sorry.”

Laughter began to bubble out of her chest as she forgot all about the nausea and the transference and the ever-present collapsed regime. For a moment, Y/N lived in laughter with Bucky, the only thing registering in her perception being her proximity to the super soldier. Briefly, the world paused for them, and she felt a little infinity within that fleeting moment.

He was not supposed to make her feel this way...

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie

[nol-an]

it was good until it wasn’t || n. patrick

inspired by the prompt, “please don’t make me choose.”

2k worth of A N G S T!! um yea haven’t written in over two years and this is my first hockey fic so bear with me. feedback is always appreciated! (this is not proofread and im sure there are probs some plot holes- oops)

__________

For so long, everything had felt too good to be true. Nolan finally accomplished his dream of playing in the NHL, and you had gotten into your dream school in Philadelphia. To you, there was nothing more important than pursuing a career in the medical field and being able to do that with Nolan on your side.

At times, the long study nights, missed plans, and occasional stressed-induced breakdowns made you question if you were ever going to meet your end goals. That feeling was definitely not foreign to you, but it didn’t necessarily make coping with the thought any easier. It was a weird feeling — four years of undergraduate school almost felt like too much yet not enough time. There was so much you wanted to accomplish, and you sometimes wished you weren’t so ambitious because the days where you felt incapable of being successful were the days that you wanted nothing more than to wallow in your fears alone.

Luckily for you, Nolan was incredibly understanding of your fears. While he knew his life as an athlete was drastically different from your life as a student, he tried his best to understand your thoughts and always told you how much he admired your drive to reach your goals. No matter how often you tried to internalize your emotions, Nolan knew better and never hesitated to be your rock. Be it in the form of verbal or physical reassurance, his presence radiated a sense of comfort that always brought you out of any illusion of doubt you may have conjured. 

He doesn’t tell you enough, but you have a similar effect on him. Your gentle touches, cute pre-game texts, and warm hugs never fail to bring a smile to his face. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s not quite sure what he would do without you. It’s not really a thought he has to worry about, though, because for what felt like a blissful eternity, the stars aligned for you two. There were undoubtedly times when Nolan and you would run into disagreements, but the desire to make things work seemingly mended any issues in the relationship.

That was, however, until everything seem to come to a head. With your MCAT exam date approaching very soon and Nolan’s season with the Flyers starting just as quickly, it was hard for the two of you to bask in each other’s presence like usual. It wasn’t something either of you really noticed, as you both understood how important the other’s career was. You knew how important this comeback season for Nolan would be, and you tried your best to let him know that you would support him no matter what. He didn’t have to say it, but you knew a lot of doubts were rushing through your boyfriend’s head and you almost mistook his increasingly reserved demeanor as nerves. 

In fact, you didn’t really give it much thought until Nolan came home from his fourth game of the season. As badly as you wished you could have attended, the remaining hours you had to prepare for the MCAT were previous and you reassured Nolan that you would be his number one cheerleader again as soon as you got the dreaded test out of the way.

Your nose was stuffed into a psychology textbook until your trance was broken with the slam of the front door to you and Nolan’s shared apartment.

“Hi, baby,” you greeted as you got out of your seat to hug your freshly-showered boyfriend. If the sound of the front door was any indication, you had a feeling that the game didn’t go as desired, and you didn’t want to push any touchy subjects. On more than one occasion, Nolan had told you how much he liked how he could escape from hockey in your presence. He loved that he could escape from that part of his life, loved how you made him feel like a normal guy. You thought this would be one of those nights where even the word “hockey” wouldn’t be uttered, but you were wrong. So wrong.

“You’re not gonna ask how the game went?” Your boyfriend pressed, his tone bitter. Pulling away from your hug, he turned his back to you all too soon and he walked towards the kitchen.

“I-I mean, you know I’m always here to listen about your games, but I just thought you wouldn’t want to talk about it?” you meekly replied, unsure of where he was going with the conversation. 

You weren’t entirely sure what the outcome of the game was, but you were definitely confused. Nolan usually didn’t like talking about the Flyers’ losses, but you were so sure something went wrong based on his dramatic entrance into your shared home.

Prompted by his silence, you continued, “Um, so was it a win?” you uttered, regretting your words as soon as they slipped off your tongue.

Slamming his water bottle on the countertop, Nolan’s actions caused your words to dissipate. Silence filled the room, the tension almost palpable.

“Well you would know if you were there, wouldn’t you?” he replied, clearly annoyed by your seemingly stupid question.

Alright, so definitely not a win.

“Nols,” you tried to reason, “You know I wanted to be there so badly, but I couldn’t. The MCAT is almo-” you were abruptly cut off.

“I know. The MCAT is only two weeks away and it’s super important for you. It’s been the same thing for weeks now, you don’t have to remind me,” Nolan finished your sentence, his monotonous and resentful tone making it clear that he had already heard the same words from you numerous times before.

Had it not been for this same tone, you would have brushed off his comment. You would have instead attributed his harshness to tonight’s loss, which would have been the third one in a row. However, his response felt condescending — like he was downplaying how important the MCAT actually was to you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you quipped. It felt like you just recited the most cliche line in the book, but your brain and heart had already started functioning at two different rates. If you attempted to say any more, your stress from the upcoming exam mixed with the rising argument you sensed would have surely sent you into a pool of tears.

“It’s just exhausting you, know?” Nolan started, “I know you’re busy with your own things, but it sucks seeing all of the other guys getting to hug their girlfriends and wives at the tunnel at the end of games while I know I can’t have the same with you. I mean, is it so much to ask of you to just be there for me? How am I supposed to believe that you want the best for me when you aren’t even acting like it?” he argued.

“‘So was it a win?’” he bitterly recited your earlier question, scoffing at it. “You could have at least Googled the score and pretended like you were keeping up.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your confusion immediately turned into anger and shock — you thought Nolan, out of all people, would have understood your situation. Not being able to wrap your head around his current state of irrationality, it felt like hours passed before you willed yourself to reply.

“I've attend almost every game of yours. I’m sorry I haven’t been so good at that recently, but you know how much I want to do well on this exam,” you seethed. 

You were trying to stay level-headed, but anger consumed any possibility of making the discourse calm. “My life does not revolve solely around your career, and I’m sure as hell not going to always be able to put my life on hold to make sure I know what the scoreboard of every game is.” You couldn’t help but let every one of your words become coated in frustration. You thought everything you were saying was so obvious, and you couldn’t help but become more upset with the fact that you even had to reiterate these points to Nolan.

“Sometimes it feels like I’m not even dating someone,” Nolan dryly responded. “Feels like all you do nowadays is drone on and on about this test. Is this what the rest of our relationship it gonna be like? I mean, I can’t imagine what things are gonna be like once you’re in med school,” he hastily commented, pacing around the kitchen.

Every one of his words felt like a punch to your gut. His words hurt more than your face let on, every instinct in your body asking —no, begging— you to flee your current predicament.

“I don’t know what to say,” you truthfully replied.

“Is there even room for me in your life anymore?” he questioned, adding fuel to the fire. “It feels like I’m always second to your fantasy life as a doctor.”

This was your last straw. Sure, you could have tried to see the validity in his initial argument if you gave yourself time to cool down. But now, it felt like he was mocking you. The same person that made your goals feel attainable was starting to break down your confidence. The confidence that he helped you construct was now crumbling, brick by brick.

“Nolan, you mean so much more to me than that. Please, I would never want you to feel this way, and I know we can work this out we just need to tal-” you were cut off once more.

“I don't know if I can do this anymore,” he cryptically stated, letting your worst fears fester around the kitchen that felt way too cramped now.

“Nol, please,” you pleaded. Your anger immediately shifted to dread.

“I want you to achieve your dreams more than anything, but I don’t know if I see myself in these future plans if this is what the rest of your career is supposed to be like. Do I even have a place in your future plans?” Nolan sighed.

Your stomach dropped. Even though he didn’t explicitly state it, you knew what he was hinting at. It was your career or him, and he was making it clear that having both in your life wouldn’t be feasible. As if he pulled out the last brick, you finally let all of your walls down. Tears freely flowed down your face, as you tried to convince yourself that you were hearing wrong. You wanted to scream it at the top of your lungs. Of course you saw Nolan as part of your future. Hell, he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. However, his seeming disregard for your career aspirations was off-putting and made you reconsider everything.

Your eyesight, blurry from your tears, tried to focus on the hockey player. Your dejected state urged you to reason with him, but you were unsure of what to do.

“Please, Nolan. Please don’t make me choose,” you pleaded. In comparison to your vulnerable state, Nolan was composed. It was as if he rehearsed this, his blank stare void of emotion. You tried to come closer to him, but his body language told you that your touch wasn’t welcome.

“I don’t have to,” Nolan pushed himself off the counter, “The fact that you don’t already know your answer already tells me what I need to know,” he stated. Grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter, he headed to the front door before you could gather your emotions and form words.

Your anger, confusion, and hurt seemed to weigh you down, gluing your feet to the ground. As much as you wanted to stop his exit from the apartment, your body kept you in place. With a second slam of the front door, the gust of wind from the heavy door whiffled through your long-forgotten textbook, the sound of the pages ruffling mocking you. The silence following Nolan’s exit was deafening. You never thought Nolan would make you choose between your relationship with him and your career. You thought you knew a lot of things about life, really, but this was certainly something you were not prepared for.

Your world was spinning, orbiting into a field of anguish and heartbreak. As if your brain hadn’t quite registered the turn of events, you almost thought about calling for Nolan until you were cruelly reminded that reaching for him was no longer an option. Your rock was gone, and you were lost.

[chao-writes-stuff]

DELTARUNE SPOILERS

Heyyy! I wrote a thing involving Jevil and the Chapter 2 Superboss! I'm going to put it under the cut, but at the end, there will also be an Ao3 link if you wanna support me there!

Thank you! Remember to Reblog if you wanna

The Lightner Trio walked down the stairs in the Queen's massive manor, their hurried footsteps echoing like a rough pitter-patter in the technological nightmare. The massive lair confused and bamboozled them, but they definitely wanted to figure out the mystery behind what the Fountains were about, what Queen's true intentions were… and what was in the basement?

"Uhh… Kris?" Ralsei asked, his soft voice echoing out. "Why are we even here? Aren't Queen, Noelle, and Berdly upstairs? And not here…?"

Susie quickly interrupted him, punching his arm lightly to get his attention. "Of COURSE they aren't here. But whatever is here is probably important. Right, Kris?"

"I guess!" The currently blue human replied. "I've been asked by some… guy, about doing these weird favors for him. He really wants me to be alone."

"We sure he ain't a p-" Before Susie could finish her thought, Ralsei muffled her mouth with his scarf. "Who is he? And why does he want you to be alone?"

"His name is Spamton, I think. I don't know much about him, but he gave me this Loaded Disk earlier, and--"

Suddenly, a strange, chaotic voice rang out. Everyone recognized it. The tail attached to Ralsei's cloak popped off, diamonds and hearts flying out with it. The tail spun and took form, and the chaotic Jester they quite literally put to rest yesterday was reawakened.

"Spamton? SPAMTON? The same Spamton who wished for me to go, to go, and be free, free?" Jevil laughed chaotically, with Ralsei caught quite off guard. "You know him?"

"That dorito chip was part of the reason why I was set free, he was! He used to rule this world, before the Queen I've been hearing oh so much about took over. Oh, I MUST know more of how you met that ridiculous lunatic! And that's coming from ME, ME! Spamton, oh Spamton, I'd like to have a word with him~!" Jevil looked quite pissed off, his normally jovial expression looking slightly stern.

"I didn't wanna go down there anyway. Just come back, okay? You're kind of carrying us with your defense boost." Kris, with a neutral expression, gave the clown the disk they were gifted by the malignant salesman, and watched as Jevil immediately sprinted off into the basement. They could hear an echoed "Buh bye~! I'll be back in a few hundred words!" As the jester descended into the decrepit basement below...

Jevil entered the musty, rotting cellar. Despite him rarely stepping on the ground, each step he did take left a haunting impact on his feet. It was silent, save for the occasional rustling of his clothes. He didn't have long to do this. His physical form only had a few hours to be out and about before he solidified, just like the young boy and the puzzle freak. Thankfully, that's all he needed. He was getting excited, almost giddy, to interact once more with his old acquaintance. Oh, what a wonderful conversation they'd have!

He didn't walk for too much longer before he found the train station that was buried deep below. Or was it a roller coaster? Whoever had this built clearly had some elaborate roundabout in mind… too bad they were still imprisoned, haha! Jevil walked and floated across the tracks, reaching a room with a decaying robot inside.

He knew this was a bad idea. But when did he ever have good ideas?

Without hesitating, the joker put the disk into the robot. At first, nothing happened, and he was getting impatient VERY quick. He gave the robot a swift kick in the lower area, before stepping back out of the room.

Step…

Step…

SLAM! The clown was admittedly caught off guard with how fast the silhouette from above came and pushed him onto his knees. With a small gasp for air, Jevil looked up slowly at the encroaching menace. The jagged movements, the glitchy, unsolidified form… this was him alright.

"KRIS… MY LOYAL [Sponge!] THANK… YOU. THE [Clown Around Town!] I REMEMBER YOUR [Disgusting] FACE. EVERYONE WAS SO [Thrilled] TO SEE YOUR [Calcified] FACE." The massive robotic behemoth loomed over Jevil, rage in his glasses. Spamton NEO.

The clown got up, a smug, shitfaced expression on his mug. He knew damn well that the dorito in front of him was pissed off, so he leaned back in the air to retort. "At least I drink plenty of milk, uee hee hee! As for you, you haven't changed one bit since we last spoke~! Or would it be a byte, a byte? Regardless, I do hope you've given up on the illusion of freedom, freedom~! The only one who can be free is MEEE!"

The robotic menace swung around to the other side of Jevil, making it very clear who was in charge of the conversation. A small concentrated blast of Pipis was fired at the jester, pushing him back with a surprising amount of force. "YOU ACT SMUG, BUT YOU [Crashed our stocks!] AND THEN YOU [Spoiled relations with our Esteemed Partners!] I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU… GOT IN HERE, YOU… [Tuna Fish,] BUT I'M NOT FALLING FOR YOUR [Roundabout!] AGAIN!"

Jevil laughed maniacally at this thought. This guy was mad! Over something that happened how long ago? Why even bother holding a grudge still? Petty, petty! He knew why, and it's why he came back too. "You influenced him. That pretty little kitty. You gave him enough funds to release me into that carousel of bliss and innocence! But I wasn't done, not one bit! And all those years, spent being free… they made me realize something, my dearest Spamton."

The oddly calm tone coming from the jester put Spamton NEO at an incredible amount of unease. "WHAT? WHAT COULD YOUR [Calcified Lump] THINK OF THAT WOULD MEAN ANY GODDAMN THING TO ME?"

"I CAN DO ANYTHING!"

The joker used his latent power to pelt the giant mecha with small white hearts. Spamton was caught off-guard, stumbling back a fair amount. Of course, you have to fight fire with fire, so the robot used his abilities to send out a Big Shot of blue Spamton Head Pipis.

"YOU [Saturated Marketshare!] YOU CAN'T SIMPLY ATTACK ME AND EXPECT IT TO WORK [As seen on TV!] I'M A [BIG SHOT!] [BIG SHOT!!!]"

Jevil hopped up onto the ceiling, clearing the first few Pipis on the lower row heading his way. Unfortunately, the higher row caught him clean in the face as he bounced between the two, making a small Jack-in-the-box melody as he pinged around.

"SPAMTON, MY BELOATHED! I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND, UNDERSTAND, WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE TRAPPED IN A CAGE WITH A SHARK, A SHARK! YOU GET BITTEN AND CHEWED UP!"

The fool retaliated by running circles around Spamton, turning into a carousel of horse bullets! The robot, in a surprising feat of puppeteering, dodged the attack almost perfectly… until a stray horsie cut a string, sending the mech's right arm into the horse race. One thing about arms with cannons on them? They fire.

As soon as it happened, Jevil was face to face with a swarm of Pipis all around him. He was stuck. All of them exploded brilliantly, sending the clown flying clean across the rotting tracks and into the wall. Tauntingly, mockingly even, Spamton NEO retorted.

"I'M THE SHARK NOW, JEVIL! I'VE CHEWED UP SO MANY [Failed Buisness Partners] THAT I COULD MAKE A WHOLE [Presentation] OUT OF THEM! STAY OUT OF MY GODDAMN WAY, OR [Sparkle like new!] YOU BRAT."

The buisnessman charged at Jevil, his hands becoming phones. "IT'S FOR YOU." Suddenly, before either of them could react, loud blasts of garbage noise manifest expelled from the phones, attacking the court jester with white blasts of energy. There was nothing he could do to stop this robot's onslaught, it looked like.

"OH SPAMTON, IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? THAT YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S SO POWERFUL RIGHT NOW, NOW? I'D SUGGEST YOU LOOK UP, UP! YOU'RE NOTHING WITHOUT THOSE STRINGS IMPRISONING YOU, UEE HEE HEE! YOU'RE NOT A BIG SHOT, YOU'RE JUST A LAZY FRAUD WHO CAN'T STOP HANGING ON TO HIM! I GUESS SLEEPING FOR 100 YEARS DOESN'T MAKE LITTLE OLD ME MISS MUCH, RIGHT?"

Without warning, Jevil was myseriously gone from his corner. The spamware looked frantically for his target, before being struck in the arm, the leg, and the chest by scythes. Devilsknives. The last knive cut a few strings clean off the puppet, who briefly hit the ground before rising back up.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! [Hyperlink Blocked.] I'M STILL HIS LOYAL ASSOCIATE! HE MAY NOT HAVE TALKED TO ME IN [Employee of The Month for 144 months!] BUT HE'S STILL THERE…"

Jevil interrupted him cleanly and concisely. "FACE IT. YOU'RE NO BIG SHOT ANYMORE, SPAMTON G. SPAMTON. ALL YOU ARE IS A FAILED INVESTMENT, UEE HEE HEE!"

With those words, a purple blast came from behind the clown, striking the robot right in the noggin. He flew back a bit, giving the joker enough time to turn around to meet his esteemed guests.

"Ah, my imprisoners~! Didn't you guys have a Queen to rock-em sock-em?"

Susie immediately cut him off, as she punched him in the arm (causing his head to spring up, naturally.) "Well, Kris over here couldn't shake the feeling things were off. So they forced us down here, and now they're right. Somehow?"

"I know I'm right.. Jevil, who the hell is Spamton?" Kris replied, their worry about the situation starting to rise.

"It's of no concern to you~! His screws were almost as loose as mine, and I don't think it's my job to tighten them~! Uee hee hee! Thank you for the help, but I can do anything~! Even tell you guys that 3 coasters are about to come down and force you guys along for the ride~!"

Ralsei immediately stuttered something out. "Three… what?"

And just like that, with a loud rumbling, the heroes were swept up into 3 old, rusty carts, barrelling down the track. Jevil laughed to himself, proud of what he got to do. "Ah well, it's a shame I can't finish him personally…"

"But oh well! Are you proud, proud? They took care of him…"

"Doctor."

Ao3 Link!

[riversofmars]

It's here, RiverDoctorPromptWeek! I wanted to do something a bit different, a bit like a stream of consciousness, getting inside the Doctor's head, hope it sort of works. :D

Rating: G

Word count: 1500

Read on AO3 or below

Freedom

“I think it could work. No, I’m sure it would. I mean, how hard can it be? A prison has not been built that can hold River Song. Except, well, she’s not in prison. She’s stuck in a computer. And she’s dead… I, on the other hand, am in prison. I really should have taken some pointers from her when she was alive… I wouldn’t be in this mess. How long has it been now? Not even sure anymore… But if there is one thing I’ve got, it’s time. An awful lot of it.

It’s a prison in its own right, you know. Time. Particularly for a time traveller. Freedom is such an illusion, honestly… I really used to believe it too, that I could do anything, go anywhere, all of space and time at my fingertips… Well, that was a rude awakening, wasn’t it. I don’t mean when I ended up in prison, yes, that bit was unpleasant too, but what are a few decades to a Time Lord? Or whatever immortal being I supposedly am… Someone is bound to come for me eventually, but until then, plenty of time to think.

It was a rude awakening when I realised some things just couldn’t be undone, some things just couldn’t be avoided. Like River. River was inevitable. Not that I would have chosen to evade her, given the chance. Not her, just… what happened to her.. River herself, she… What we have is like… gravity, pulling two people together across time and space, across dimensions, even across death. Which brings me back to my original point: River is dead, stuck in a computer and I have all the time in the universe to think about it. So how hard can it be? To work it out? Work out how to save her?

Here are some things to consider: She probably hates me. Let’s be honest, she didn’t want this. Pity I only found out about that after the fact. See, I didn’t know her when it happened, that’s half the problem. It was our first meeting, well, first one I remember anyway, I gather there were more when she wiped my memory… she does that… infuriating woman. But anyhow, as far as first dates went, it started off alright. Flirty banter, breathtaking action, heartfelt confessions… but turned out a bit too much like Romeo and Juliet for my liking. Not the feuding families, I mean the dying bit. That really took the fun out of it. But I really couldn’t have known at the time that a digital life was not what she would have chosen… I hope she won’t be too cross with me. I suppose if I manage to get her out, she’ll be alright. Maybe. Hopefully.

Soo… logistics, where and when… Well, there are the Vashta Nerada to consider… I could try talking to them… or I just bring a sun. That might be better. Big, shining sun, put it in their sky, just while I drop in to look at the computer core… I don’t know, I’m just brainstorming here.

Or I could try and arrive at the time where the Vashta Nerade haven’t taken over yet? Maybe just as Sandshoes is leaving? Could be tricky with the timeline but I’m sure I can find that sweet spot… Then I’ve got options! Also, it would mean River doesn’t have to wait for too long, that would be good. Give her less of a chance to get angry with me. Sounds about right…

Now we get to the difficult bit… she’s dead. Electrocuted. She’s no ordinary human, mind you, she’s very much like me. Unfortunately, she gave up all her regenerations to save me once, so that’s annoying… But the way I see it, she’s very nearly a Time Lord. Or thereabouts. See, Time Lords, they take forever to die, I know that from experience. Once spent several billion years taking advantage of that very fact. Anyhow, maybe she’s not completely, fully, stone-dead by the time I get there.

See, maybe - seeing as apparently I have unlimited regenerations - I could give her some of mine? She did this thing where she was being all regretful after poisoning me and she changed her mind and went to save me instead? Well, she leaned over me, all romantically, and kissed me and I think I could do the same thing, couldn’t I! Wouldn’t that be the perfect solution! Cause I didn’t know this at the time, about myself, maybe if I had tried back then… oh, I don’t know…

Maybe reviving her body is a stretch too far… but her consciousness remains and there are loads of options for that. I mean, they do all sorts these days. I could put her on a data stick and plug her into the TARDIS! I’m sure the TARDIS matrix would be able to handle her! But they’d probably end up ganging up on me all the time… also, I don’t see that working for either one of us. Surely, that’s even more depressing than being stuck in the greatest library in the universe… not sure I would cope either, having her so close but not being able to… okay, scratch that, stupid idea.

What’s next? I wasn’t far off with the data stick! Could do what they do on Kaldor! Upload her consciousness to a robot! Mind you, I can’t imagine River as one of those SuperVocs… custom made model through? When I get out of here, I could get in touch with the Company… I do know one of the chief engineers there, the sister of a friend of mine…

Or, if we’re being creative, why not a clone? Plenty of places out in the Frontier Colonies that have gotten pretty good at it! I suppose I could find a bit of River's DNA… I’m sure I got a toothbrush of hers in the TARDIS… Wouldn’t be the real thing though, would it… no, I have to find a way to get her body back…

Think, Doctor, think. Where did they even take her after she died? She wasn’t there when I rushed back to upload her to the data-core… Must have been Mr Lux… probably took her body back to Luna… well, they do have brilliant research facilities there, maybe they can do something…

Or maybe I just stop her from going, take her off to another adventure right before she… I know, I know, that’s just postponing the problem, it won’t undo anything…

You see, that’s what I was on about earlier, before I went off on a tangent. Freedom. You can’t free yourself of those inevitabilities. River died at the Library, dies at the Library, will die at the Library, however you turn and twist it, that won’t change. That’s what I meant when I said freedom is just an illusion. Things always catch up with us in the end. You can’t run forever, you can’t cheat time. Time builds a prison for us all and it’s bars are far less forgiving than this place. Because even if you manage to find a weak spot, tear down the bars, find a way of escaping, the whole prison crashes down on top of you. River has done it, of course, for my benefit and how did that turn out? Time was unravelling, she broke time, she broke the prison. You can’t change a fixed point…

Your best chance - and I know this from personal experience too - is trying to find a way around it. That’s what I did. I should have died at Lake Silencio but I didn't. And not because of what River did, but because I did something awfully clever. And if I managed it once, I can do it again. For River I can do anything.

And that’s why I’m telling you this, that’s why I’m looking for a way out. Trust me, I’ll find it. I am so close. And I have all the time in the universe to think it through. I will save River and I will give her her freedom back… just as soon as I have mine… and you really don’t care about any of this, do you, but you are a great listener, really top notch. Five stars. Ten out of ten. But then, I suppose you are a statue so… not like you talk back, is it…“

That was the end of exercise time and the arrows indicated it was time to return to the cells. The Doctor sighed and got to her feet.

“Let’s carry on tomorrow.“ She waved at the weeping angel she had nicknamed Angela, thinking herself incredibly funny but unfortunately, there was no-one around to laugh at her jokes. River would have thought it funny, she mused as she returned to her cell. And she was determined to make the most of her time there. She would find a way of rescuing River from the Library. She would give her her freedom back and escape the confining walls of established time once and for all.

[fanficshiddles]

Triple Threat, Chapter 3

Darcy and Loki were startled awake in the morning by incessant banging on the door.

Loki sent an illusion to answer, he couldn’t be bothered getting out of bed. Darcy didn’t want to move either, sporting a killer of a hangover. It felt like someone was playing the drums inside her head.

It was Thor, who they had expected because of the noise.

‘What do you want?’ Loki’s illusion drawled, not letting him into the room.

‘Mother and Father have sent me to fetch you both, we need to get to the observatory on the Bifrost. Right now.’ Thor said seriously, glancing over the illusions shoulder to look at Darcy and the real Loki.

Loki frowned, he knew that didn’t sound good.

‘We will be right along.’ Loki said and his illusion shut the door on Thor.

‘Come on, Darcy. Get up.’ He slipped out of bed and his armour shimmered onto him.

Darcy just rolled over in bed and groaned, pulling the blanket up over her head. ‘No. Sore head.’ She grumped at him.

Loki grabbed the blanket and whipped it off her, then used his Seidr to have her dressed within seconds. That’s when Darcy realised whatever was going on must be serious. Loki very rarely used his Seidr on her in that way, always making her get dressed the boring way.

She sat up and groaned, her head was pounding and the room was starting to spin. Loki walked over and crouched down on front of her. He put his palm on her forehead and closed his eyes. She could feel a warm tingling sensation spread through her head, the pain started to fade almost instantly.

‘Why have you never done that for me before?’ She asked, voice slightly high as Loki stood and pulled her up to her feet, leading her towards the door.

He smirked. ‘Because I only use it on special occasions.’

‘Every time I’m in pain is a special occasion!’ She punched his arm playfully as they headed out of his chambers.

Birger was waiting just outside the palace with their horses, he gave Darcy a leg up and Loki swiftly mounted his, then they galloped off to the Bifrost with a quick nod to the guard.

‘What do you think is going on?’ Darcy shouted across to Loki as the horse’s hooves pounded across the rainbow bridge.

‘I have no idea.’ Loki said, slightly concerned about what was going on. Likely Heimdall had seen something, since they had been summoned to the observatory.  

When they arrived outside, Loki jumped off his horse and he helped Darcy down quickly. He took her elbow and they rushed inside. Frigga, Odin, Heimdall, Thor, Sif, Bruce, Natasha and Tony were all there. The Avengers looking rather rough. Like Darcy had felt before Loki healed her.

Tony was wearing dark sunglasses, Natasha looked really pale and Bruce just looked like he hadn’t slept in years.

‘What’s going on?’ Loki asked as he and Darcy joined the group.

‘I don’t know. We were waiting for you.’ Thor said.

They all looked at Frigga, Odin and Heimdall. Who looked rather concerned.

‘There’s been a disturbance in the Universe’s timeline. A tear. I can see it… But I can’t see who or what has caused it.’ Heimdall said, his eyes were a funny colour, black with what looked like tiny stars in them. Darcy had never seen them like that before. But he was still searching, trying to see what had happened.

‘What do you mean, a tear?’ Bruce asked, frowning.

‘Someone from another timeline is here, when they shouldn’t be. Causing a fracture in the balance.’ Heimdall said.

‘But if it was something big, or bad, wouldn’t things have changed by now?’ Tony asked. ‘The timeline is delicate, isn’t it?’

‘It is. There doesn’t seem to be any changes to our Universe… Is there?’ Frigga asked and looked to Heimdall.

‘Not that I can see.’ He hummed. ‘Whoever has broken through to our time, is able to shield from me.’

‘So, someone that knows about Asgard… Who has powers strong enough to hide themselves?’ Darcy pondered and then looked up at Loki. ‘Sounds like you, maybe a long-lost twin brother.’ She laughed.

Loki chuckled and folded his arms over his chest. ‘Do you think you could handle two of me?’

‘No way. One of you is enough.’ She smirked and patted his arm.

‘Maybe Strange might know more of this.’ Tony suggested.

‘Who’s Strange?’ Darcy asked.

‘You are.’ Loki drawled.

‘Oi!’ She bumped him with her hip.

‘Doctor Stephen Strange, he’s a sorcerer. An ally.’ Bruce started. ‘He is a protector of Earth, knows a lot about timelines and other realities. I’ve heard him mention about alternative realities before.’

‘Alternative realities?’ Darcy asked, looking between them all in surprise.

‘Yep. Can be completely different. For all we know, you could be dating Thor in another reality.’ Natasha smirked.

Darcy just scoffed and laughed.

Loki tensed and chuckled slightly. ‘No, she would not.’ He put his arm around her waist, unknowingly getting slightly possessive at the mere thought of it. ‘Perhaps there’s an alternative reality where Thor isn’t such a buffoon and can keep a girlfriend.’

Thor glared at him and stepped forward. ‘Maybe there’s a reality where you are a better brother and aren’t so obnoxious.’

‘Boys. Stop. This is not the time nor the place.’ Frigga said in warning.

Odin just rolled his eye at them. He knew they’d never change.

‘We should get back to Earth, just in-case there’s anything going down. We need to be there to protect it.’ Tony said, then he looked at Loki. ‘Can you just magic our belongings here?’

Loki sighed dramatically, but he clicked his fingers and all their bags were suddenly at their feet. On top of Tony’s bag was a set of red frilly lingerie. Tony’s eyes widened as Natasha, Sif, Thor, Bruce, Loki and Darcy laughed. Frigga smirked and Odin just shook his head.

‘Why, Tony. I had no idea you enjoyed wearing women’s lingerie.’ Loki teased.

‘That is not mine!’ Tony said angrily, tossing the lingerie at Loki, who waved his hand to have it vanish with a smirk.

After saying their goodbyes to Odin, Frigga and Sif, Heimdall sent the team back to Midgard. They were relieved that there was no panic around base, so nothing had kicked off… Yet, anyway.

‘Whoever has caused the rift, might not even be on Earth. There are many realms, it could be anyone and they could be anywhere. I don’t think we can act until something happens, we don’t even know where to start.’ Thor said as they went inside.

‘I’ll give Strange a ring, check if he’s heard anything. He might have contacts, too. We should be on alert, just in-case.’ Tony said as he headed off from the team, he needed coffee. Desperately.

‘I’m away for a nap.’ Natasha said as she headed off too.

Loki and Darcy diverted away from Bruce and Tony, heading to Darcy’s room so she could get unpacked. They didn’t share a room, still had their own. But they always slept together in either one. Usually Loki’s.

‘Are you worried?’ Darcy asked Loki while she unpacked her bag. Loki was lounging on her bed.

‘No. Why would I be worried?’ Loki asked.

Darcy shrugged. ‘I dunno. I don’t know if this sort of thing is supposed to be a worry or not.’

‘Whatever it is, they haven’t attacked yet. Or we would’ve known about it. Or if they have attacked since we left Heimdall, it’s not on Midgard. So I guess we don’t need to be too worried.’ He said flippantly, picking up her remote and turning on the TV.

Darcy finished un-packing and then she jumped onto the bed and snuggled into him. He put his arm around her and rested his chin on top of her head.

‘Sorry we had to cut our Asgard trip short. I know you enjoy visiting.’ He hummed as he rubbed her arm softly.

‘It’s alright. Tony and that seemed antsy to get back here just in-case. I guess it makes sense, the protectors of Earth should be here. Especially if there’s a chance there might be a threat.’

‘True.’ Loki chuckled. ‘Maybe sometime I’ll take you to another realm, just the two of us.’

‘Like a holiday?’ Darcy grinned and looked up at him.

‘Yeah, why not?’ He grinned back at her.

‘Sounds good to me! As long as it’s somewhere warm and sunny.’

‘You’ve got yourself a deal.’ Loki said.

[gingerwritess]

Theo, my girl, my idol, my star, my main bitch, I gotta read about the first time that Loki is seen out and about after he's been released pleeeaaaasseeeee (and some sexual tension wouldn't hurt)

part 18 of predating idiots, in which you speak with that idiot for the first time since…everything happened. (he hasn’t exactly been released, but close enough ;))

warnings: long ass chapter with blood, injuries, pain, alongside some denial and awkward moments :))

Life without a fake-boyfriend has become rather, well, quiet.

No more surprise visits with only the excuse “I’m dying” being given, no more lying about the exceptional dates you’ve been on…no more ridiculously attractive doctor on your arm.

No one’s stealing your bagels anymore. That’s a plus.

But work is slow, suddenly. The weight of the secret, sneaking Loki into your office to eat and sleep and rushing him home on lunch breaks for a shower, was, in it’s own twisted way, exciting.

Loki admitting to the fact that it’s been “centuries” keeps floating back into your consciousness. You continually choose not to dwell on it.

Your first day back after Tony gave you a four day weekend to recoup went smoothly, without a single hitch nor a word from your special alien. Asking about him while trying to remain casual didn’t get you far, so you resigned yourself to a quiet day at your desk, sometimes sending Marcus off to make copies for you when even he looks bored.

“I’ve gotta admit,” he pipes up one day from his station at the doorway, “I kinda miss Lucky. Thought maybe I’d get to stop a bad guy, that’d look good on a résumé.”

You shake your head with a laugh, scrolling through a file of release records. “Sorry you’ve got to just watch me all day. Can’t be the most exciting thing.”

“I don’t mind.” He shrugs. You don’t look up.

Another day ticks by, then another, and then a whole week and you still haven’t heard a single bit of accurate information regarding Loki.

Plenty of false information is circulating though, and you pick up bits of pieces around the break rooms and bathrooms.

“Yeah, he got the chair, they wouldn’t have kept him alive.”

“No, they’re rehabilitating him. He’s of use, he’s basically another Thor, don’t you think shield would want to hang onto him?”

“What, make him a new avenger?” The voice by the sinks laughs, and the faucet shuts off. “Just what we need. Another superhero. Jesus, I can’t keep up.”

Break rooms are to be avoided as of late, since you can’t go near another coworker without them jumping you with questions, assuming you must know what happened to him.

“Wish I knew,” you always reply. It’s not exactly a lie.

This fine morning, you pass the god of thunder on the way to the copy room. He gives you a grimace of a smile, lifts a hand, and turns to walk back the way he came before you can call out to him.

Strange. You haven’t seen Thor since the day Loki confessed.

Assuming he’s been busy helping his brother, you hadn’t worried about what he’s been thinking of you. Granted, his impressions of you haven’t been of the greatest, most respectable caliber, from asking you if you were attracted to his brother to watching you rip his brother’s shirt from him while straddling him on a bed—

Yeah, it’d be better not to dwell on what awkwardness Thor may have started to feel towards you. You’d rather not know his thoughts.

Then the next day, Thor is there again. You manage to get in a wave this time, giving him your politest please-don’t-talk-to-me smile and heading for the copy room again.

This time, the god follows you, fidgeting with the strap of mjolnir.

“I would like to talk to you,” he announces, trying to lean casually in the doorway. It doesn’t work well for him, so he straightens up and goes back to fidgeting with the hammer, staring at you.

“Okay…go for it.”

“I’d like to-to—” he breaks off and clears his throat. Finishing your copies, you turn to him with your eyebrows raised.

“Yes?”

“I’d, uh, like to apologize.”

Your brow knits in confusion and you cock your head at him. “What for?”

“Not to you,” Thor clarifies with a nervous laugh. “Sorry. Do I owe you one?”

“No, not really, I guess.”

“I’d like to apologize,” he tries again, “to, uh, to my brother. You know, Loki.”

“Ah.” You nod with a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m acquainted with him.”

Thor lets out a relived laugh at that, tossing mjolnir in the air and catching it. “Of course you are. The only trouble is, I don’t quite know how.”

“And you’re coming to me because…”

“Because you may know this Loki better than anyone.”

“Right.” Biting your lip, you stare at the crease in Thor’s brow. This Loki. A bit of a terrifying thought, really, but he may be right. However unpleasant, your interaction may have been the first semi-normal one Loki had had in a long time. “Well, um, how can I help?”

“How…bad is he?”

That’s a loaded question, and you pretend to look through your papers while you think. “He’s in a bad state,” you venture to say, “he’s definitely hurt. Somebody hurt him, and not just physically.”

“Right. Alright.” Thor nods, tossing his hammer back and forth between his hands. “I can work with that. Sensitivity, I’m getting good at that.”

“Good for you,” you laugh. “Be careful with him. I mean, I don’t know him very well. But I know he’s not one to open up, so…go slow. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the apology.”

In all reality, you have no idea if Loki will give a shit about Thor’s apology, but in theory it sounds like a good thing to happen. It can’t go terribly wrong.

“Just be gentle with him, will you?”

Thor nods. “Of course.”

You rifle through your papers, gaze dropping to them to avoid his. “Where, uh, where is he, by the way?”

Your stomach flips at the sound of the question leaving your mouth, but hopefully you can pass it off as casual curiosity, keeping your gaze trained intently on the papers in your hand.

“The healing wing,” Thor replies with a growing smile. “The two-hundred and third room. I am sure my brother would be happy to see you, my lady.”

“He hates me,” you answer way too quickly, flashing him a forced smile and pushing past him. “He won’t—no, he doesn’t—heh. Just curious. Thanks.”

—

Curious enough to go find him on your lunch break, that is.

Room 203 is a drab white room that reeks of disinfectant, one single bed in the center next to stacks of monitors and a cot-like couch beside it. It’s an improvement from the cell, you’ll give them that, but the pure white gives you a headache the moment you enter, and Loki still looks trapped.

Trapped, and deliberately expressionless upon seeing you sneaking through the doorway.

“Hello.”

He says it carefully, eyes narrowing at you as you wring your hands with a sheepish grin.

“You’re, ah, looking better.”

More like an angry cat who just had to resign itself to the fact that baths are inevitable, but better nonetheless.

“I feel like my limbs have been filled with lead,” Loki replies. He limply tries to lift his arms for emphasis.

“Nothing a god can’t lift, I’m sure,” you laugh, taking the few steps needed to be by his bedside. His piercing gaze tracks every one.

Checking his water jug and the tray of food still untouched by his bedside, you give him a mildly disapproving look, one he certainly disapproves of. “I bet you’d feel better if you ate something.”

“Not interested.” He sinks back into the pillows, watching you with hawk-like precision. “Why are you here?”

You give him a casual once-over, disguising it with a quick look about the room, as well. His arm is in a sling—that’s new, he must be cooperating at least a little if they’ve been treating him.

“Uh, curious,” you decide to answer. “I’m curious, just, y’know, want to make sure you’re being treated right. You healing up?”

Loki nods. Yes, he is healing, technically, but at a glacial pace that’s nearly historic for asgardian abilities. Maybe he had pushed his limits a little too far with all the illusions and covering undressed wounds for so long.

Your not-so-discrete scrutinizing of his shirtless body doesn’t slip his notice and reopens a whole other wound, but he can’t think about that right now. Or ever.

“You’re wearing a sling,” you lamely point out, desperate to fill the silence, and mentally slap yourself.

“That I am,” Loki replies, and can’t help the smug little smirk that starts to turn the corners of his lips. You’re a bit out of sorts—this could be fun. “Did you miss me, darling?”

Your face goes sour, crinkling at the nose. “Don’t call me that.”

Loki breathes deep with a grin, and Dr. Laing takes his place in the bed, lounging much more seductively, injury free and on his side, with an arm draped over his hip.

“You missed me, didn’t you.”

“If you weren’t on the verge of death and in a hospital, I would slap the shit out of you.”

Laing laughs as he fades back into Loki; it’s a tired sound, scratchy and painful and rattling in his chest, but somehow he manages to sound so disdainfully full of himself that you don’t know if you want to soothe his aches or cause him a handful more.

He does look better though. Weak, definitely still as weak as before, but better. Not so gaunt.

“Have you been eating well, then?” You ask, pulling up a chair beside him. “You’ve filled out a little.”

“Define well,” he replies with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“More fast food, I take it.”

“If I wasn’t close to death before, I am now.”

“Well, take what you can get.” You reach over and give him a pat on the arm, just one awful pat before you think better of it and immediately hate yourself for doing that. “So, uh, what was the verdict? On your…y’know. Crimes.”

Loki shifts on his pillows, trying to sit up a little straighter, and his blanket slips further down to his hips as he struggles to with one arm.

“My crimes…right, trying to conquer the planet. Those crimes.”

Without thinking, you lean in and straighten his blankets for him, tugging them back up to lay just under his arm.

His voice dies in his throat, and he stares.

You stare, too, but unfortunately at the bruises littering his ribs and the scar racing right over his heart.

“There you go staring again,” he says, clearing his throat. “Are you quite finished?”

Ripping your gaze from his chest, you meet his narrowed eyes and swallow thickly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Are you…are you using any illusions right now?” You gesture at him, emphasizing his relatively scar-free face.

“I may be,” he replies.

“Why? You should be healing, not hiding anything.”

His eyes roll and he sighs. “I do still have some semblance of a reputation to uphold. Maybe no longer with you, and something must be done about that, but as for the others, they don’t need to know any more.”

“I don’t really care about your reputation,” you tell him, and he laughs as if that were obvious. “Or any image you’re trying to make of yourself, just so you know.”

“Oh, you did miss me, mortal.”

“No,” you snap, “I just…well, I don’t want you getting any more hurt than you are. And…maybe might have been a tiny bit worried.”

The last part you blurt, staring out the window with a burning gaze. You would like him to know, just for the sake of knowing that he’s not necessarily alone in this, but when you say it out loud, like that…

Loki appears to have swallowed something sour, when you glance back at him, and he stares at you.

Confusion, maybe?

Or maybe just shock. Or maybe he has morphine pumping through his veins; that’s a very possible answer.

“Are you on morphine?” You whisper when he doesn’t move, still staring. “That stuff can kill you, y’know. Careful.”

Slowly, he nods, lips parted.

“I…am.”

“On morphine?” You give him a sad smile. “That’s why you’re being friendly. Well, by your standards.”

“No,” he cuts in, cocking his head at you. “Still using an illusion.”

You nod, glancing down at your hands in your lap. “I figured. You can take it off now, I’ve already seen the worst of it.”

Room 203 falls silent for a moment, nothing but the air conditioning whirring in the background as a wave of green energy passes over Loki’s body.

“Just for you,” he clarifies when you look back up at him, “only for you.”

“Of course. I won’t tell.”

Taking a steady breath, you scoot forward in the chair and begin your inspection, ghosting along the parts of him you can, too used to cleaning him up to the point where it’s almost routine. He sits quietly, you point out to him which bits he should really show the others, berate him again for waiting so long to tell the truth.

“I lie,” he murmurs, and you almost catch a smile playing at his lips. “It’s what I do.”

“Roll on your side,” you simply respond. “You’re letting them treat your back, aren’t you?”

He grimaces, but doesn’t move. “In a way.”

“Please? Can I see?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“I don’t know if you realize this,” you exhale, exasperated already, “but I’m a little more trusted here than you are. I can help you, if you’ll let me.”

He squares his jaw, fighting with himself for a second longer—then rolls his eyes yet again and turns to face the other direction, exposing his back to you.

“Loki, come on.”

“I tried,” he cuts in before you can berate him further on the hideous state of his lashed back. “Really, I tried, but they can’t treat them yet. It’s not a flogging like any that have happened on Midgard, believe me.”

The thought of something worse than a flogging makes your toes curl, and you gingerly brush your fingertips over his shoulder before the sight makes you retch; one of the few unmarked patches of skin left on his back.

“You’re still bleeding.”

He nods, face turned from you. “I would imagine so.”

“Bled through your sling…” a quick look around finds the spare cloths and towels in the cabinet under his bed stand, and you take a couple soft rags. “Want me to, y’know, clean you up?”

He’s silent for so long you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but then he nods, just once.

“I would–I would appreciate that.”

His whole body jerks with every few dabs of the cloth, trying to at least stop the trickling and sop up what’s pooled in the bony dip of his shoulder blade.

You try to tell Loki which cuts desperately need stitches, but he just chuckles dryly and explains that these cuts aren’t meant to heal; that they rip and open any stitching or bandages applied to them. Each attempt to close the wound is predestined to worsen it.

“So you’ll always have these?”

“Until I can find a way to heal them,” he grunts, letting you help him sit up, “yes. It’ll be wonderful for when I’m feeling nostalgic.”

The sling, as it turns out, is covering a much deeper gash than the rest, one that the skin around the edges looks burnt—but weirdly enough, also looks almost crystallized where it should be scabbed. Almost…icy.

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just continue in silence to switch out his sling, sick to your stomach. Nothing you could possibly have to offer, any assistance from anyone on earth could make up for that.

It’s been a couple months now, since New York. There have been no other attacks, clean up has been relatively successful with the camaraderie of the nation. The avengers have been assembled, tested, and proven effective.

Loki’s in custody, no longer hiding, no longer blackmailing you into keeping his secrets while he runs. He hasn’t stepped out of line since, he’s been offering his knowledge, he’s been cooperating.

Yet he’s the only one still bleeding.

“Loki,” you say quietly, glancing at the door, “are they actually helping you?”

He gives his shoulder a testing roll with a wince. “That’s too tight,” he tells you, tugging at the fresh sling. “I’m being treated. Accordingly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve received the help I need.”

“I don’t believe you,” you reply with a huff, fighting with the knot in his sling. “I mean, has Thor even come to see you? He told me he wants to talk to you, but he’s the only person who’s mentioned you…”

Loki gives you a nod when you finish with the sling, finally lifting his head to look at you with an illusion-less face, ripped flesh around his lips where a cord stitched him silent.

A fist closes around your heart, clenching it and leaving a hollow ache in your chest. Your skin burns at the sight of him.

“You’re staring again.”

“Sorry.”

The stitching was crude, unevenly spread along his upper lip, and the left side has a couple gashes where the skin is torn all the way through. Must’ve had to rip out it himself.

“Don’t victimize me,” he warns. “Don’t make me into something I’m not. Don’t.”

Your jaw clenches, eyes flitting from his lips to meet his gaze. “How do you expect me not to?”

He drops his head back to his pillow, shutting his eyes.

“You should leave.”

“Yeah.” You stand, and he doesn’t open his eyes. The closer you look, his scars are fading again, back under the facade you broke. “I probably should.”

Before you can stop yourself, your hand moves to touch him, just once on the back of the hand that’s draped over his chest. He grabs your wrist before you can.

“I don’t think I trust you,” he whispers, eyes still shut tight.

A lump catches in your throat. “You–you can, you know.”

“I know.” He takes a shaking breath, wincing as his blood soaks the pillows. “That’s why I don’t.”

—

You give him a week.

You hadn’t gotten even half the answers you had gone in there for, leaving with more questions than before, if anything.

It’s hard to tell if he was pleased to see you.

So you give him a week. No visits, no telling him he needs to eat, no mention of him behind his back.

That week passes as normally as it could be.

By the next, you find yourself outside room 203 once again, psyching yourself up to just walk in there and cut right to the chase, not giving him even an inch over you.

But you open the door and he’s on his stomach, fists ripping the sheets as a nurse with a needle stitches the lashings on his back shut.

He’s bleeding. Badly.

“No,” you blurt, “stop, don’t do that–”

Your tongue falls limp in your mouth, and completely against your will, you walk straight to the couch beside the bed and sit.

Nothing you can do will allow you to move, and you spend the next few minutes struggling against invisible bonds, shouting silently into oblivion that you’re making it worse, horrified at the sight of Loki’s serene expression as he stares at you.

You can see it getting worse; each stitch undoes the last, reopening the wound from the beginning so that by the time she’s moved to the next cut, the one just finished is a fresh, open wound.

Even with his face perfectly calm, his gaze stone-set on you, his body betrays him. He jerks with every pierce of the needle, the vein on the side of his neck bulges, and he’s ripped the sheets by his fist.

It looks like pure agony, and you can’t do a single thing about it.

So you sit there, frozen to your seat and silenced, until the nurse gives up and apologizes for another failed attempt, promising that they’re trying to find a type of material that can hold as she tries to soak up the blood. She wraps his torso and he stays silent the entire time, knowing full well that nothing will change, and doesn’t move after she’s left the room.

You take a deep breath as Loki does, and the restraints on your body and tongue fall away.

“What the hell, Loki?!”

“Please don’t yell.”

“I think it’s warranted,” you cry, stomping over to his bedside. “You have a death wish, god, you–you–what the hell were you doing?!”

You’re shaking, half from the horror of having to sit there and watch him endure that, but mostly from rage—he could’ve stopped her.

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?!”

“Shh…”

“Oh, don’t you shush me, I’m so sick of this–I-I can’t believe you made me watch that—”

A cold hand curls around your wrist and yanks, and you fall to your knees by the bedside, nose to nose with the god of mischief.

“Let me bleed,” he grits out, each word ripped painfully from his throat.

“What?”

“Let me…let me bleed.” This time it’s on an exhale and his eyes close, his hand dropping from your wrist.

You can’t find it in yourself to move away from him.

“Why’d you do that, you idiot?”

Half his face squished into the mattress, he manages a hoarse laugh. “Punishment for my sins.”

“That’s not your call,” you hiss, grabbing him by the arm. “You need to roll over, you’re laying on your injury. C’mon, move.”

He actually obliges and the two of you struggle to roll him onto his uninjured side. It’s not exactly comfortable, for either of you, and you realize after the fact that you had to practically hug the guy in order to haul him onto his side.

That’s probably why he went so stiff.

And…why he’s staring at you as if you’d sprouted wings, trying to catch his breath.

“Sorry,” you mutter, a little out of breath yourself from trying to lift him. “You’re a fucking masochist, you know that?”

“Oh, don’t act so surprised.” He forces out another laugh.

Always laughing.

Always bleeding, always laughing. It’s exhausting, not to mention unbearably irritating when you’re nearly writhing in pain for him.

“Do me a favor, darling.”

“Don’t call me—oh, wait, do you want me to slap you?”

Another dry laugh, but this one sounds truer.

“Don’t make me beg,” he grins, and you almost find yourself wanting to grin back; it’s a breath of fresh air, after all the blood and pain. “Please, would you do this for me?”

“Yeah.” You can’t help the tiny smile you offer back, hidden behind your exasperated sigh. “Yeah, of course.”

“Tie my hair back?”

You swear his cheeks burn bright red, but he doesn’t let his empyrean expression waver, sinking subtly deeper into the pillows and handing you a thin strip of leather.

“Sorry,” he says when you take it, voice muffled, “it only gets matted with blood if I leave it down. I’d cut it, but I can’t be wasting strength on that in this condition—”

“I get it,” you assure him with a smile. “Don’t worry. You’ve already ruined your reputation with me.”

“Right. Thank you for the reminder.”

Biting back a grin, you pull the strip of leather between your hands. “I’ll do it, on one condition.”

“You are unbearably difficult.”

“Thank you.” You lean towards him, a tiny, smug grin just turning at your lips. “You answer any question I ask while I’m doing it. And no lies, trickster.”

He mulls it over for a moment, halfheartedly glaring at your smug self. You do look sure of yourself, leaning onto his bed, eyes narrowed playfully, his leather cord taut between your fingers. Daring him to disagree.

It’s not a bad look. Confidence, he supposes. Power.

The day has reached sunset, and in this moment of weakness Loki can’t help but notice—the light filtering through the lone hospital room window hits your face in a rather flattering way.

That, or maybe it’s been so long since someone smiled at him, laughed with him, teased him—maybe it’s…nice.

Maybe it’s been missed.

Maybe…that would be alright.

―   ―   ―   ―

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

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@toozmanykids @brooklyn-times @nonsensicalobsessions @londonisacountry @peterparkerbabyyy

[grimmseye]

Tend to end up bent and broken

(Read on Ao3)

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast (Juno Steel)

Relationships: Juno Steel/Peter Nureyev, Carte Blanche Crew & Juno Steel (I could tag all of them individually but this is faster) Carte Blanche Crew as Family

Characters: Juno Steel, Rita, Peter Nureyev, Buddy Aurinko, Jet Sikuliaq, Vespa Ilkay

Warnings/Tags: Canon-typical Violence, Non-consensual Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, The crew loves Juno so much

Prompt from @blue-mood-blue​ for the February whump promts! Mind Control & Hallucinations.

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

They found Juno in a rudimentary medical bay, guarded by two goons who fell clutching their newly-slit throats.

Ransom had discarded his usual flourish. He and Vespa wielded the same violence as they sliced through flesh and sinew. As the pair that was most often at odds, it would have been a marvel to see them in tandem — but, Jet was distracted. The only force that could bring those two into sync was a threat to one of their own, and Jet did not have the capacity to marvel.

Juno was laid on a metal table that looked more suited to holding a corpse than a breathing body. For a moment that stilled Jet’s heart, he appeared to be just that: gray, still, and lifeless. Then he caught just the barest hitch of his chest, and he could move again. He kicked a dying guard aside to make room at the doors, he and Buddy both flanking the exit with their blasters in hand.

Ransom was the first to reach him. These were the moments that felt most sincere from the thief, though again, Jet had no capacity for such a thought. Only in retrospect would he realize that he only felt he understood the man called Peter Ransom when he choked out “Juno,” with the terror of something far worse than death.

Juno didn’t respond to his call. Vespa was ashen-faced and all business as she moved to him, fishing supplies out of her pack. She clipped something over his finger, which read out to her comms. “Pulse and blood pressure are spiked,” she announced, voice hurried as she touched the back of her hand to his forehead. “Sweating, feverish. Accelerated breathing.” Swapping away from a doctor’s tone, she rasped, “Steel, you in there?”

The only response was a soft, choking groan, a sound that made Jet’s heart stutter. Juno Steel made his discomfort known to the world, with shouts or complaints or curses. Getting stabbed by Vespa Ilkay had been met with his griping, and that was how Jet was sure he was fine. Silence was reserved for the worst of times. And as Vespa inspected his unseeing eye, as Ransom clung to his hand, he laid in silence.

It was broken by Rita’s growing distress, her breathing getting quick and short, bordering into panic. “Is - is - is Mistah Steel gonna die?” She hiccuped.

Ransom tensed. Vespa gritted her teeth. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Something’s wrong with him, but without my lab —” She cut off with a growl.

“Rita, come here,” Ransom called, extending one hand to his side. She ran to him, hugging him around the waist before grabbing onto that hand and clinging in a crushing grip. For a moment, Jet could not parse between his jealousy and his gratitude for the thief who provided what he himself could not.

Vespa ran her hands over Juno’s body, examining as best she could without stripping him. The shirt was pulled up, hands flying over his stomach, his back. “No bleeding,” she reported. “No signs of trauma at all but I’ll need a scan to be sure.” She rolled up his sleeves, and that was when she cursed.

Buddy straightened up. “Vespa?” In a single word, her illusion of composure cracked — the determined set to her face and the fire in her eyes taking a backseat to a quivering voice. She cleared her throat, steady again as she said, “What did you find?”

“Puncture mark,” Vespa reported. “Sloppy work, too. They definitely weren’t drawing blood — something was injected.” She pulled in a breath and then rounded on a nearby table. She was practically throwing anything that wouldn’t shatter on impact as she began rifling through its contents. “You two!” She snapped, rounding on Rita and Ransom, “quit sniveling and help me search. A syringe, a bag, a bottle, whatever looks right, we need a sample of what the hell they put in him.”

“We can’t stay long, darling,” Buddy reminded her, sounding like she hated the taste of each word.

Vespa sneered, looking like she wanted to argue before just biting out, “Fine. If we can’t find it in two minutes, we run. So hurry.”

The three of them tore the room apart, emptying tables, drawers, and cabinets like they had a vendetta against the very furniture. At last, it was Rita who came up brandishing a bottle, a tiny glass thing that stood hardly an inch high with the kind of cap you could feed a needle through. “Found something!” She gasped, waving it in Vespa’s face. “There was a shot right next to it!”

Vespa grabbed it, scanning the label. “I… I don’t recognize this,” she admitted, voice strained. “But we’re outta time, and it’s we’ve got. Sikuliaq, grab Steel. Let’s go.”

“I can take him,” Ransom started, for Vespa to round on him with a snarl.

“I don’t have time for your theatrics. Shut up and listen.”

“But —“

“Ransom.” Buddy’s voice was cold and final. “Vespa is right. Jet, you carry Juno. Ransom, you’re leading the way out of here — you’ve the best memory of all of us. I’ll take up the rear and cover us. Now go.”

Jet took just enough time to be delicate as he hoisted Juno up into his arms. Juno was panting and whimpering, head lolling against Jet’s chest. Nausea twisted in his stomach, but he tamped it down. No time. Ransom led the way, the rest of them falling into line as they raced for the Ruby 7. Anyone who got in their way met their end by a laser or a knife, Juno’s hurt turning them ruthlessly efficient. Every cut and every shot was vengeful, fueled by the knowledge that Juno needed help , and damned was every soul that would slow them down.

They left a trail of bodies in their wake as they fell into the car, Ransom taking the wheel and peeling out through the atmosphere of Haros. There, laid in Jet’s lap and flanked by Rita and Vespa, Juno started to mumble.

Rita gasped, “Mistah Steel! Mistah Steel you’re gonna be okay, we’re almost home, okay, just hold on a little longer, okay, boss?”

Juno’s lips moved, voice rasping in his throat. Jet had to strain to hear it, though it was only the same sound, over and over: “Where's Ben?”

Jet frowned. The name felt familiar, somehow. He looked up to the rearview, catching Buddy’s eye through the reflection, a question in her gaze. “He said, where’s Ben.”

Buddy’s eye widened. She started, voice hesitant, “That’s…”

“That’s Mistah Steel’s twin brother,” Rita said, voice soft.

And then Jet remembered, as Ransom’s breath hitched, as Buddy’s eye squeezed shut. Looking up Juno Steel had brought them a number of interesting headlines. Some were harder to find, took digging and lacked names — a mugging of the president of Venus, the successful robbery of the Utgard express. Others spelled out JUNO STEEL in capital letters, over photos of two near-identical faces, one bright with a smile, the other fixed in a scowl. Ex-Writer of Northstar Entertainment Sarah Steel Confesses to the Murder of her Own Son: Twin Brother Left Alone.

He remembered he had laughed, and the memory made him sick. Both of them had. It was absurd, just one more piece of bloody drama in a galaxy still ravaged by war, something so petty and unbelievable that it bubbled into humor. An entertainment star got fired for stealing her coworker’s project, and years later turned a gun on her child. Today, his twin laid limp in Jet’s lap, calling for his brother.

His vision blurred. Jet didn’t stop his tears, nor did Rita. They listened in shivering silence to that repeated call, where’s Ben? Where’s Benzaiten? Each grew more desperate, cracking with fear. His eye flickered sightlessly over the roof of the car as it rolled in its socket.

It wasn’t until he’d taken a fistful of Jet’s shirt that he realized Juno had finally focused, and was looking at him, even with that feverish glint in his eye. “I can count on Jack,” he rasped. It was miserable, pleading, more a question than a statement though he needed it to be true.

Before he left the lighthouse, Juno had asked them about Jack Takano. He claimed to not have heard of him, the creator of Chainmail Warrior Andromeda. And then there was Sarah Steel, fired from Northstar Entertainment for stealing her partner’s plans. The pieces started to fall into place, forming not a picture but a concept, a web of names and feelings and blood, and at its center was Juno Steel, tears streaking his face as he tugged at Jet’s shirt, crying, “Where's Benten?!”

“Do something,” Ransom gritted out. His voice shook. Buddy put a hand over his where he was white-knuckling the wheel.

“We’re almost home, Pete,” she breathed. “Eyes forward. Almost there.”

Vespa crowded against Jet, leaning over into Juno’s line of vision. “Hey,” she called. Vespa wasn’t known for her bedside manner, but all of them had heard how gentle she could be when something real was weighing on them. When Jet started trembling in a warehouse filled with laced needles, when Rita for the first time had taken a life, when a mission had cut too close and Buddy’s knees gave out with the relief of finding her family alive, Vespa put a hand on their quaking shoulders and went hey, hey so soft that you almost couldn’t believe it was her at all.

Here, she ran a cloth over Juno’s brow, then his cheeks. “Ben’s fine, Juno,” she told him. When Rita opened her mouth, Vespa bared her teeth to keep her silent. She settled, and Vespa returned her attention to her patient, murmuring, “Just sit tight, we’re almost home.”

His foggy eye found Vespa’s face. “Don’t hurt him,” he begged. “It was me — it’s m-my fault, don’t hurt him, Ma.”

Vespa’s face was stricken. Her voice wobbled as she ran fingers through his hair. “No one’s in trouble. No ones gonna hurt Ben or you, alright? We’re safe when we’re home. Promise.”

“Promise?” He gasped. His hand loosened from Jet’s shirt, groping for Vespa. When she let him find her fingers, Juno twisted their pinkies together. “Promise,” he repeated, softer. And finally, he relaxed, eye drifting shut, hitching breaths going slow and deep.

Vespa panted. She blinked, hard, then swiped viciously at her eyes. “Damn it,” she growled. “He’s — He's fine. Just finally fell asleep.”

In the front seat, Buddy leaned against the window of the Ruby 7, her face hidden in one hand.

“It’s a hallucinogenic drug,” Vespa reported, once she had Juno set up in the med bay and could tear through her books. “Uncommon in solar planets, I can’t find any clinical studies on the stuff. Word of mouth suggests that the hallucinations tend to be linked to…” She drew a breath, sighed, and bit out, “Memories. Usually ones associated with fear.”

Nureyev bit back a scoff. They had already gathered that much. He kept his grip on Juno’s hand, though Juno was completely unaware. He’d been sliding in and out of consciousness, and what time he spent awake was spent in tears, calling for his brother.

Vespa had hooked him to a saline drip — somewhere between the tears and the drug, he’d need it. She said, “There’s no notes on interactions, so if we can avoid sedating him, we better. Just keep him hydrated and let his liver take care of the rest. I’m gonna make a few calls, see if I can find anyone with clinical experience.”

“Thank you, Vespa,” Buddy sighed. The captain looked wrung out, carding her fingers through Juno’s hair while he rested. “We should keep two people with him at all times, just in case.”

She volunteered herself at the same time as three others — only Vespa, busy with her comms, hadn’t spoken up.

A weary amusement tweaked her lips. “Well then. Jet, darling? Would you mind fixing us a quick dinner? It seems we’re camping in the med bay tonight.”

He looked reluctant, but jerked his chin in a nod. “What should I bring for you, Buddy?”

“The rum in the cabinet will suffice,” Buddy said, giving him a pat and a kiss on the cheek as he passed. “Thank you, dearest one.”

Vespa grumbled about it as they stole blankets and pillows from their rooms to fix the beds into something comfortable. Several ended up shoved together. Vespa looked like she was ready to strangle him with her stethoscope, so Nureyev kept his bed separate from Juno’s and beside Rita’s instead. Rita passed out headphones so they could watch a stream together without waking Juno, and they ate to the sounds of a werewolf and her hunter falling in love, seated in hospital beds and surrounding their unconscious detective.

Nureyev couldn’t tear his eyes away from Juno. He wasn’t even peaceful in his sleep, face pinching against unseen nightmares, shivers wracking his body as the drug curdled through his veins. He wanted to be there. Wanted to hold him, and kiss him, and chase every bad memory away. He wanted to hunt down every person who had ever hurt him — Sarah Steel and Diamond and the brutes at the HCPD. He could take comfort, at least, in knowing Buddy’s next heist would be finding the one who decided to hold their detective for ransom, and teaching them exactly what the family did to those who hurt their own.

If Juno didn’t want to be the one to kill him, Nureyev would beg for the privilege.

He slept fitfully, and woke just past midnight to the sound of Juno wailing. He bolted upright with the others, the room flying into movement. It wasn’t a sound he’d ever heard before, not physical pain but something far deeper . Juno pressed his face into his knees and screamed and sobbed, and the name on his lips was Benzaiten.

They tried to comfort him. Buddy’s hand made him shriek, grief turning to rage as he swung at her. “Get away from him!” He screamed. “Don’t fucking touch him, I’ll kill you, I swear to god I’ll kill you —”

But he didn’t chase her as Jet hauled Buddy away, just dissolved into tears. He was grieving his brother all over again, clutching at a body that wasn’t there.

Nureyev knew by looking at Rita that she had seen this before. There wasn’t the shock in her face, just tears. She slid to the ground, padding towards Juno’s bedside with a whimper of, “Mistah Steel?”

“Don’t —” Vespa warned.

But Juno lifted his head, blindly searching until his gaze landed on her. “Rita,” he choked out, and when she clambered onto his bed, he pulled her close, hugging her painfully tight. She blinked her tears down her face and hugged him, letting Juno sob into her shoulder. “He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone…”

“I know,” she whispered, voice cracking. Sobs hitched up her throat. “I know you’re hurting, boss. But I’m right here. And I ain’t going nowhere.”

Juno hadn’t recovered by morning. Buddy reluctantly ordered the functioning crew back to work, leaving Ransom and Rita to keep watch. Both of them would be useless while Juno was in this state.

It was easier, regardless, to keep out of their sight. Jet and Vespa had both seen her cry too many times to count, and when she found tears welling up throughout the morning, they knew to let her be. Jet pulled her into a hug, once. Later, Vespa pulled her into a kiss.

“You holding up alright?” She asked, stroking a thumb beneath Buddy’s eye.

She’d spent the night coaching herself for this, and the answer came easily to her lips. “Well enough to keep the ship ship-shape,” she asserted, lifting her chin. Confidence, Aurinko, she reminded herself. Even in the face of disaster you must maintain confidence.

Vespa saw through it, but only gave a thin smile. She rested her head on Buddy’s shoulder, an arm draping over the other. “It’s freaky, isn’t it? Seeing him all… broken.”

Juno had grown on Vespa in the months since their crash. The two still bickered something awful, but lately they’d been using their words before it could spiral out of control. More often than not these days, their arguments felt more like jabs between old friends than anything cruel.

Juno had grown on all of them, frankly. Within a day, Buddy had found herself fond of him. Maybe it was that he’d refused to harm her Vespa, coloring his actions in rose. And then he’d stuck around, after being stabbed and offered no reimbursement, walked with her into the metaphorical lion’s den and complained the entire way there and back. By the time he left for Hyperion City, she was truly hoping that he would give her that call.

After several long moments, she found her words. “It feels rather voyeuristic, all things considered,” Buddy said, and cursed herself as her voice wobbled. She hesitated, before adding, “I looked into all my candidates as best I could. I knew about most of this, on a surface level. Once I met him… once I started to like him… then it just felt sick. I betrayed his privacy before I even knew him, pulled up all his scars and opened them up so I could see how he bleeds —”

“Hey, hey,” Vespa hushed, straightening up to push their foreheads together. “We’ve all got our reputations. Well, most of us.” Her lips twisted, and Buddy found a laugh bubbling in her chest. “You know Sikuliaq was scared shitless of Steel learning who he was at first. And Ransom knows a freaky amount about us both —”

“He’s a fan, darling,” Buddy reminded her, tittering now as Vespa rolled her eyes and grumbled. She rubbed at her own eye, thankful she hadn’t bothered with makeup today; she’d look like a plutonian marmoset by now.

For just a moment, Buddy felt like she could breath. Her mechanical heart was steady. Her love was in her arms. Her family was wounded, but they would recover.

Then she heard Rita scream.

The crash that followed had Vespa bolting across the ship before Buddy could even get to her feet. Through the walls, Ransom was shouting, “Juno! Please, stop — AH!”

Vespa slammed her hand on the lock, the door snapping open. Inside, Ransom had his arms around Juno’s middle, holding him from behind. Juno clawed at him like an animal, lines of blood raked into Ransom’s cheek. Rita was on the ground, glasses askew and eyes wide behind them.

“Let go of me,” Juno snarled. He caught Ransom in the eye, and as the man reeled from it, broke free. Instantly Juno was twisting, ignoring Vespa and Buddy in the doorway and instead lunging for Rita.

She shrieked his name, scrambling out of the way as he dove to the floor. He crashed into one of the beds, flipped over, and grabbed her by the ankle for a moment before she kicked him in the face. As he cried out and clutched his eye, she shoved herself to her feet. “Mistah Steel, please!”

He grunted, shook his head once before it snapped up again. “Acquire Target: Rita.”

It wasn’t a sound she’d ever heard from his mouth, toneless and dangerous and coupled with a fire in his eyes. Buddy shouted, “Rita, over here!” She hoisted her blaster, careful to set it to stun before pointing it at Juno’s chest, “Stand down! I do not want to hurt you, Juno, please.”

Rita scrambled for them, hiding behind her legs. “It’s not his fault, Captain,” she cried, “He’s acting like he did way back then with all the Theia chips and he thinks he’s gotta get me and —”

None of it made sense to Buddy. It didn’t matter. She knew Juno wouldn’t ever lift a hand against Rita, but here he was, standing to flash her a look so cold and so calculating she wasn’t sure she was even looking at Juno Steel at all.

“Put down your weapon,” he intoned. “I do not wish to hurt you. Net good of: capture Target: Rita and bring peace to the galaxy is greater than net evil of: use of lethal force to incapacitate Buddy Aurinko —”

His voice halted, eye glazing over again. “Buddy — Buddy —” Like a glitched recording, repeating itself infinitely.

Ransom jumped him. Buddy tensed — she had nearly forgotten he was there, but suddenly he had Juno on the floor and was pulling ties around his wrists. Juno broke from his reverie, roaring in frustration and thrashing beneath Ransom, so violently that Buddy worried he’d crack his own skull just to break free.

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered, sounding like each moment of this was genuine agony, like it ate him alive to do this. It likely did — Buddy felt her heart squeeze and jump at the sight of Juno bucking like a rabid animal, straining dangerously at his restraints.

Vespa slid past Buddy, yanking open a drawer and producing a syringe from it, already full. She uncapped its needle and turned. “Hold him down,” she instructed Ransom, who flinched from the thought. But he obeyed, putting his weight down on Juno to keep him still as Vespa fed the needle under his skin, pushing something clear into his veins. “Sedative,” she said, and sure enough Juno was already weakening in his struggles. “We’re gonna have to monitor him for any interactions but we can’t — we can’t deal with him like this.”

Ransom stared at Juno as his strength drained to feeble squirming, Buddy’s own horror reflected in his face. Slowly, so slowly, Juno went still.

Rita was shivering behind her. “Is he gonna be okay?” She whimpered.

“Yes… I thought that sort of thing was a delicate calculation,” Ransom said, shooting a look at Vespa.

Buddy grimaced, tamping down the urge to snap. “I imagine you would feel less stressed if you trusted the doctor’s years of schooling and field experience, Ransom. Especially considering you’ve none of your own. When you are incapable of relying on yourself, it is helpful to rely on another.”

He looked appropriately cowed by her words. Vespa snorted. “I’ve got one of those for everyone: a safe dose that can knock you out if we need it, all measured out ahead of time. This one was labelled for Steel.”

Ransom frowned. “That is… an odd contingency.” He knelt down to gather Juno up into his arms and lift him into the bed.

Vespa’s eyes flashed. “You like to have ten escape routes on every heist. I like to have my contingencies.”

“I think that’s quite enough,” Buddy said. “Rita, are you alright? Things sounded rather exciting before we got here.”

“Uhm.” Her voice was small. She cradled her arm, where Buddy could see now it was wet with blood, likely cut in the fall. Before Buddy could call her over, Vespa was already at Rita’s side, tugging her to sit up on the bed.

“Speak up next time,” Vespa sneered. Her voice was gruff ��� guilt, Buddy recognized, that she had forgotten about Rita. “That’s gonna need stitches. What the hell was going on with him... “ She trailed off from her muttering, then cleared her throat. “You, uh, wanna watch something while I get to work?”

Rita gave a shaky exhale. “That’s a good idea, Miss Vespa. And, um. Don’t be mad at Mistah Steel, okay? It ain’t his fault. Some bots made him think things he didn’t really think and he only did it cause it was my idea and he almost scrambled himself because of me —”

“Rita,” Buddy soothed, sitting beside her. “This isn’t either of your faults. For now — Ransom, could you get Rita’s comms?”

Unsurprisingly, he looked displeased by the request. Still, Ransom only gave Juno a sad, lingering look, and then slipped from the room.

When he returned, it was with Jet in tow, hair rumpled from an interrupted nap. Blood drained from his face at the sight of Rita’s cut. Though it was cleaned of blood, it was a messy wound, deep and jagged. Buddy herself felt rather sick at the image of it. Rita was the least likely of them to get injured during a mission; to see her in such a state was disconcerting.

She was a strong one, though, and Jet’s questions about a stream kept her distracted as Vespa stitched it shut. Juno was going to beat himself up over that for a long time to come. Buddy frowned, looking to him in his bed. She found Ransom there, once again glued to his side with worry dark in his eyes.

Another day of getting nothing done, then. Buddy drew a breath and heaved a sigh, settling into one of the beds and pulling out her own comms. She could at least get started on their next mission. Revenge wasn’t something she’d planned before, but she was willing to try most anything once.

Juno’s head was pounding when he woke. It wasn’t the first time he’d greeted the day like this, but the first in a long time. For a long while, he was wracking his brain to figure out what had made him hit the liquor cabinet this hard. A mission gone horrifically wrong? Someone hurt? His fault?

He was reluctant, but he opened his eyes. The med bay was dark, illuminated only by the machines that surrounded the bed. His bed. A monitor pulsed steadily with his heartbeat. An IV fed into his arm. And worst of all, the place was full, every single bed occupied.

For a terrifying moment, Juno thought the entire crew had been hurt, images of crashes or falls, frantically searching for the monitor that would tell him who was alive and who he had lost.

Then he realized that their beds weren’t wired up with the same equipment as his. Buddy and Vespa were curled in each other’s arms. Rita and Jet had fallen asleep sitting up, slumped into each other. Nureyev dozed on his back, limbs splayed out at odd angles.

Juno tried to push himself up, grunting as his skull only throbbed in protest. Blankets fell away from his chest, and for a moment he was the only one awake, surrounded by his sleeping family.

Then Nureyev shifted. His eyes opened, bleary at first but flooding with clarity. “Juno —!” He caught his voice just a beat too late, loud enough to wake their lighter sleepers.

“Steel?” Vespa grunted. She squinted at him in the dark. “You with us?”

“Uh…” That wasn’t a good question. “... Yeah. Was I… not?”

Her expression was grim. He looked over to find Nureyev’s painfully soft. Already he was moving into Juno’s bed, gathering him up in his arms. “You don’t remember it, then?” Nureyev asked.

“Remember —” He frowned. Old grief stirred in his chest, something stiff and quiet but still very much alive. Something fresher, twitching muscles, impulse he couldn’t deny. “Oh. K—kinda. What was going on?”

They told him. He didn’t like what he heard. Halfway through Vespa’s explanation, Rita bolted awake and into his lap, and at least then he could worry more about getting her to breathe than what he’d apparently been doing since the crew rescued him. He didn’t have time to feel humiliated about crying for a day and then some when Rita was busy bawling into his chest.

By its end his insides had been dosed with a cocktail of embarrassment, shame, and grief, topped with an old-fashioned garnish of crippling guilt. But no matter how he felt like he didn’t deserve to touch Rita, she was intent on holding fast. So he rubbed her back and let Nureyev pet his hair, giving them all an incredulous look as he said, “You know, I don’t think I needed a five-person security detail. Pretty sure the big guy could handle me no problem so long as I can’t get a gun or a sharp object or something.”

“I could, yes,” Jet nodded. “But the point was not security. Unless you mean emotional security, and you do not mean your own.”

He blinked. “What?”

“We were worried about you,” Buddy explained, snorting. “Is that so strange to you? With how many times you’ve woken up in a hospital bed in your life, you must have had someone weeping over your unconscious body at least once before.”

He glanced at Rita. “Yeah, but it’s not like I was gonna croak in the night this time, was — ow!”

A pen bounced off his temple. Vespa glowered at him. “Don’t go getting a big head about it,” she grumbled, clambering out of the bed against Buddy’s playful resistance. She pulled a lab coat over her pajamas, and Juno paused as he tracked the movement with his eye.

“Your pajamas have little kitties on them,” Juno blurted.

She stopped. Even by just the light of the machinery, he saw her ears redden.

“Well, seems we have our detective back at least,” Buddy lilted. “His filter is functioning precisely as it did before: not at all and actively working against him.”

Rita stifled a giggle against his sternum. Nureyev followed, a low chuckle that was picked up by Jet, then Buddy, until Vespa scoffed and grumbled as she flicked on the lights.

And even if Vespa definitely stuck him too hard with the needle, she still couldn’t deny that she had been right there with the rest of them as they waited for Juno to wake.

[imagine-loki]

Triple Threat, Chapter 3

TITLE: Triple Threat CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki kidnaps Darcy Lewis, in hopes of getting the tesseract in return for her. Imagine his surprise when he grows rather fond of the mortal, finding that she understands him better than anyone else ever has.  RATING: M

Darcy and Loki were startled awake in the morning by incessant banging on the door.

Loki sent an illusion to answer, he couldn’t be bothered getting out of bed. Darcy didn’t want to move either, sporting a killer of a hangover. It felt like someone was playing the drums inside her head.

It was Thor, who they had expected because of the noise.

‘What do you want?’ Loki’s illusion drawled, not letting him into the room.

‘Mother and Father have sent me to fetch you both, we need to get to the observatory on the Bifrost. Right now.’ Thor said seriously, glancing over the illusions shoulder to look at Darcy and the real Loki.

Loki frowned, he knew that didn’t sound good.

‘We will be right along.’ Loki said and his illusion shut the door on Thor.

‘Come on, Darcy. Get up.’ He slipped out of bed and his armour shimmered onto him.

Darcy just rolled over in bed and groaned, pulling the blanket up over her head. ‘No. Sore head.’ She grumped at him.

Loki grabbed the blanket and whipped it off her, then used his Seidr to have her dressed within seconds. That’s when Darcy realised whatever was going on must be serious. Loki very rarely used his Seidr on her in that way, always making her get dressed the boring way.

She sat up and groaned, her head was pounding and the room was starting to spin. Loki walked over and crouched down on front of her. He put his palm on her forehead and closed his eyes. She could feel a warm tingling sensation spread through her head, the pain started to fade almost instantly.

‘Why have you never done that for me before?’ She asked, voice slightly high as Loki stood and pulled her up to her feet, leading her towards the door.

He smirked. ‘Because I only use it on special occasions.’

‘Every time I’m in pain is a special occasion!’ She punched his arm playfully as they headed out of his chambers.

Birger was waiting just outside the palace with their horses, he gave Darcy a leg up and Loki swiftly mounted his, then they galloped off to the Bifrost with a quick nod to the guard.

‘What do you think is going on?’ Darcy shouted across to Loki as the horse’s hooves pounded across the rainbow bridge.

‘I have no idea.’ Loki said, slightly concerned about what was going on. Likely Heimdall had seen something, since they had been summoned to the observatory.  

When they arrived outside, Loki jumped off his horse and he helped Darcy down quickly. He took her elbow and they rushed inside. Frigga, Odin, Heimdall, Thor, Sif, Bruce, Natasha and Tony were all there. The Avengers looking rather rough. Like Darcy had felt before Loki healed her.

Tony was wearing dark sunglasses, Natasha looked really pale and Bruce just looked like he hadn’t slept in years.

‘What’s going on?’ Loki asked as he and Darcy joined the group.

‘I don’t know. We were waiting for you.’ Thor said.

They all looked at Frigga, Odin and Heimdall. Who looked rather concerned.

‘There’s been a disturbance in the Universe’s timeline. A tear. I can see it… But I can’t see who or what has caused it.’ Heimdall said, his eyes were a funny colour, black with what looked like tiny stars in them. Darcy had never seen them like that before. But he was still searching, trying to see what had happened.

‘What do you mean, a tear?’ Bruce asked, frowning.

‘Someone from another timeline is here, when they shouldn’t be. Causing a fracture in the balance.’ Heimdall said.

‘But if it was something big, or bad, wouldn’t things have changed by now?’ Tony asked. ‘The timeline is delicate, isn’t it?’

‘It is. There doesn’t seem to be any changes to our Universe… Is there?’ Frigga asked and looked to Heimdall.

‘Not that I can see.’ He hummed. ‘Whoever has broken through to our time, is able to shield from me.’

‘So, someone that knows about Asgard… Who has powers strong enough to hide themselves?’ Darcy pondered and then looked up at Loki. ‘Sounds like you, maybe a long-lost twin brother.’ She laughed.

Loki chuckled and folded his arms over his chest. ‘Do you think you could handle two of me?’

‘No way. One of you is enough.’ She smirked and patted his arm.

‘Maybe Strange might know more of this.’ Tony suggested.

‘Who’s Strange?’ Darcy asked.

‘You are.’ Loki drawled.

‘Oi!’ She bumped him with her hip.

‘Doctor Stephen Strange, he’s a sorcerer. An ally.’ Bruce started. ‘He is a protector of Earth, knows a lot about timelines and other realities. I’ve heard him mention about alternative realities before.’

‘Alternative realities?’ Darcy asked, looking between them all in surprise.

‘Yep. Can be completely different. For all we know, you could be dating Thor in another reality.’ Natasha smirked.

Darcy just scoffed and laughed.

Loki tensed and chuckled slightly. ‘No, she would not.’ He put his arm around her waist, unknowingly getting slightly possessive at the mere thought of it. ‘Perhaps there’s an alternative reality where Thor isn’t such a buffoon and can keep a girlfriend.’

Thor glared at him and stepped forward. ‘Maybe there’s a reality where you are a better brother and aren’t so obnoxious.’

‘Boys. Stop. This is not the time nor the place.’ Frigga said in warning.

Odin just rolled his eye at them. He knew they’d never change.

‘We should get back to Earth, just in-case there’s anything going down. We need to be there to protect it.’ Tony said, then he looked at Loki. ‘Can you just magic our belongings here?’

Loki sighed dramatically, but he clicked his fingers and all their bags were suddenly at their feet. On top of Tony’s bag was a set of red frilly lingerie. Tony’s eyes widened as Natasha, Sif, Thor, Bruce, Loki and Darcy laughed. Frigga smirked and Odin just shook his head.

‘Why, Tony. I had no idea you enjoyed wearing women’s lingerie.’ Loki teased.

‘That is not mine!’ Tony said angrily, tossing the lingerie at Loki, who waved his hand to have it vanish with a smirk.

After saying their goodbyes to Odin, Frigga and Sif, Heimdall sent the team back to Midgard. They were relieved that there was no panic around base, so nothing had kicked off… Yet, anyway.

‘Whoever has caused the rift, might not even be on Earth. There are many realms, it could be anyone and they could be anywhere. I don’t think we can act until something happens, we don’t even know where to start.’ Thor said as they went inside.

‘I’ll give Strange a ring, check if he’s heard anything. He might have contacts, too. We should be on alert, just in-case.’ Tony said as he headed off from the team, he needed coffee. Desperately.

‘I’m away for a nap.’ Natasha said as she headed off too.

Loki and Darcy diverted away from Bruce and Tony, heading to Darcy’s room so she could get unpacked. They didn’t share a room, still had their own. But they always slept together in either one. Usually Loki’s.

‘Are you worried?’ Darcy asked Loki while she unpacked her bag. Loki was lounging on her bed.

‘No. Why would I be worried?’ Loki asked.

Darcy shrugged. ‘I dunno. I don’t know if this sort of thing is supposed to be a worry or not.’

‘Whatever it is, they haven’t attacked yet. Or we would’ve known about it. Or if they have attacked since we left Heimdall, it’s not on Midgard. So I guess we don’t need to be too worried.’ He said flippantly, picking up her remote and turning on the TV.

Darcy finished un-packing and then she jumped onto the bed and snuggled into him. He put his arm around her and rested his chin on top of her head.

‘Sorry we had to cut our Asgard trip short. I know you enjoy visiting.’ He hummed as he rubbed her arm softly.

‘It’s alright. Tony and that seemed antsy to get back here just in-case. I guess it makes sense, the protectors of Earth should be here. Especially if there’s a chance there might be a threat.’

‘True.’ Loki chuckled. ‘Maybe sometime I’ll take you to another realm, just the two of us.’

‘Like a holiday?’ Darcy grinned and looked up at him.

‘Yeah, why not?’ He grinned back at her.

‘Sounds good to me! As long as it’s somewhere warm and sunny.’

‘You’ve got yourself a deal.’ Loki said.

[vampiresuns]

Corazón Sufriente, Corazón Sangrante

3.5k words. The Crews of The Jagged Ruby and El Corazón Sangrante spend the night in Hinode. However, Captain Syd and the crew of Inuwashi cross the waters of the Strait before they even set sail the next morning, rattling the beings that inhabit it. Having no option but to sail as soon as they can, they are forced to face the storm waiting for them in the water.

The crew of The Jagged Ruby, El Corazón Sangrante, and Inuwashi belong to @apprenticealec​​. You can also check her map and lore about the Strait of Sirens here.​

This is the second and last instalment of Part VI of Secrets of An Ancient Moon Series. 

Want to read more of these series? You can find it’s masterpost here.

CW: Brief mentions of unhealthy family dynamics.

Rodrigo was something completely different from Jacqui. An entire different type of fish — an analogy he had hated. Not that him hating it was about to stop Jules from using it. 

They had known him for less than a day, yet they had already argued about at least five different topics. All of them unprompted. They had argued about slang, about whether their shared mother tongue was actually called Alzor or Nopali; Jules said both were acceptable, Rodrigo wasn’t so convinced. They had also begun bickering because Rodrigo, finding them again after docking in Hinode, tried to make for their ‘interrupted’ introduction earlier that morning, only to be met with Jules laughing through their nose and telling him he was shorter than Saoirse. They did not expect to touch a nerve, but they did.

Then it was some random thing neither of them knew how they ended up talking about, Jules ‘hoarding’ Jacqui, and finally because Jules had had the gall to make an assessment out of Rodrigo and be right about it.

“You too, huh?” Jacqui asked him. “What did they tell you?” 

Rodrigo grumbled something about ‘hearts’, and ‘choices’, and people like ‘us’. “Anyway, I told them there could be an ‘us’ if they wanted to, grabbed their face and the next thing I knew fucking Saoirse was standing right behind me, like what the fuck.” 

Jacqui laughed. Rodrigo looked at him as if he had just told him the worst of insults. 

“You know they do that because they think it’s funny, right?” 

“Shut up, Jacqui.”

Rodrigo’s Quartermaster looked over his Captain’s shoulder, snorting at the same time as Saoirse said: “Hi, Rodrigo,” making him jump from his chair.

None of those wouldn’t be the last of Julianus’ offences against Rodrigo that night. The crown jewel of them all would come when they asked him and Jacqui for how long they had been together. While Jacqui clammed up, Rodrigo answered ‘20 years’ like it was nothing. However, when Jacqui tried to tell him Julianus didn’t mean as Captain-and-Quartermaster, he laughed, and left. 

“So it’s not like—? Oh.” Saoirse laughed softly, and kissed their temple.

In hindsight Jules should’ve anticipated Rodrigo coming back to steal their drink, since they “weren’t going to finish it.” 

In any other circumstances, Jules would’ve rolled their eyes, yelled something smart back at whomever took their drink, and carried on. That drink, however, had pisco mixed with a soft drink. It was a popular mix in Altazor, but slightly harder to find in other places — mostly due to the lack of pisco— and, it was Rodrigo who had taken it. 

“Hey! That’s mine!”

Rodrigo began walking away faster.

This would be one of those moments which Julianus would never forget. The blur of faces as they chased Rodrigo in the tavern part of the Inn, Manolo’s and Manuela’s concerned faces. Walking over someone’s table after climbing on a chair without thinking too much about it. Or rather, without overthinking about it. There were no what-abouts, no ifs, no what-will-whoever-thinks. Just them, trying to calculate their odds as they tackled Rodrigo into the ground. He yelled something about his coat getting dirty, Jules told him he shouldn’t have stolen his drink. 

Neither of them were putting on a real fight, though at the same time they were. Rodrigo fought better, but Jules was more slippery and had, per Saoirse’s own confirmation and now for everyone to witness, an unexpectedly strong thigh-lock. 

Meredith was yelling insults at Rodrigo and cheering on Julianus, with either ‘you go, Sanlaurento’, or ‘that’s my legal bastard’. J. C. would not register it until hours later, and while they suspected it was solely because they were fighting Rodrigo and had tackled him to the ground, it still brought a smile to their face. 

Looking at them as they fought, Saoirse and Jacqui stood together. Jacqui refused to get involved, claiming this wouldn’t have happened if Rodrigo had not stolen their drink. 

“You know those fights between siblings which start to get too serious?” He asked Saoirse.

“No, not really.”

“Well, this is a little like those.” 

After a moment or two, he spoke again. “So, this is ‘your Julie’.”

Saoirse’s smile was the brightest Jacqui had ever seen in them. “Sometimes I think I will anticipate their thought process. Sometimes I do. Others…,” there it was again, the smile, “I have no idea.”

The fight ended when Saoirse got Jules another drink, and helped them get off from Rodrigo who was yelling at them not to get his face, while Jules yelled at him that he got theirs first. They were both perfectly alright, despite their dramatics, but in the morning Julianus’ forehead would develop a small bruise right where their hairline began, Rodrigo having accidentally elbowed them. It was, for once, a legitimate accidental blow. 

Later, Saoirse would say that Jules had a very thick head, as they held ice to their forehead just in case. Jules was sharing a bedroom with Theo, and while the ship’s medic would’ve been able to do just the same, Saoirse wanted to do it. They, on the other hand, had to sleep in the same room as Meredith, to keep the Queen safe. 

Theo had offered to change places with Saoirse, swearing ‘most ardently’ that he would never let anything happen to Meredith. Saoirse, bound by the code by their own choice, declined.

When the two of them were alone, Saoirse having left to their own bedroom, Theo gave Jules a sympathetic look.

“You look melancholic, my dear friend. Empty bed blues?”

“No, not really. I do know how it goes, and besides, it’s their job. You don’t see Saoirse complaining about my law books, do you?”

“So what is it? If you wish to talk about it,” he said as he sat on Jules’ bed, “I am happy to be your faithful confidant.”

“Thank you, Theodore. Do you promise not to think it’s stupid?”

Theodore crossed his heart, then put his open palm above it and raised his other hand. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Jules was silent for so long, gathering their thoughts, that the doctor thought they’d never speak. However, they did, turning to them with such vulnerability in their face that Theodore, poetic and candid as he was, almost gasped. 

“I’m not used to being in a place where I want to find out what happens tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after. It’s like my mind decided to have this moment, out of all possible moments to realise I am not going anywhere.”

“Anywhere how? Oh, Meredith wouldn’t turn you away!”

“No, not like that. Anywhere as in here, in this world. That this is my life and I get to live it, for many more years than I ever thought I’d get to live.”

Theodore hugged them. Jules didn’t expect the gesture tensing for a fraction of a second before fully leaning into it. Theo was hugging them with both his arms, but he was doing it around their side, not in front of them, which made returning the hug a little awkward. Jules still did their best. 

“I’m so very glad we are friends.”

Jules smiled. “So am I, Theo. You deserve good things.”

“So do you.”

“Just take the compliment.”

“Pot and kettle! You take the compliment!”

They bickered some more, like old friends who have known each other for their whole lives, until Theo sent them to bed on Doctor’s orders. 

They would both sleep happy, soundly. Julianus would dream of sweet nothings and their feet would stay warm all night with the weight of Marcius over them. Yet that wouldn’t last until the morning. Everyone slept in a little later than they did at Sea, only to be woken up with alarm from members of both crews announcing Inuwashi had crossed the waters of the Strait.

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

They could’ve waited a couple days to pass, but the fear of not making it to Ethari on time was worse — Jules had no idea until then, but due to a couple of reasons beyond anyone’s control (namely the weather and some routes alterations) they were behind schedule and could not afford any more delays. It meant they’d head to risk going through the waters with its very, very angry sirens. 

This time, no crew song appeased them. The message was clear: anything or anyone they got their hands on would not see the surface again.

On the distant horizon, Julianus could see the outline of a ship. It looked tiny in the distance and by the way Meredith cursed in it’s direction, they assumed it must be Inuwashi. Meredith cursed again — it had begun to drizzle, and it looked like a storm was beginning to brew. 

Saoirse, for once, looked concerned. “Jacqui says Rodrigo exhausted his illusion magic, they’re too uncontrollable for him to properly cast anything on them.” 

To make matters worse, a ripple went through the water. With a violent halt, both of the ships stopped moving.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! If I could kill Syd, I fucking would!” Meredith yelled.

“I know,” was Saoirse’s serious reply. “But I don’t think that was Syd.”

“You’re seriously going to tell me that wasn’t Gharial or however the fuck they’re called?”

“No, it was, but Syd is not stupid enough to endanger you right before a Quinquennial Meeting without a loophole, and Gharial just likes getting Syd into trouble.”

“It doesn’t fucking change anything.”

It was chaos as everyone snapped into action to make the ships move again. The sooner they were all out of the Strait the better and by the turn of events it was going to be a long, tiring task. 

“Alright!” Meredith yelled, raising their voice so everyone listened to her. “Keep everyone from the railings and if you can move with a lifeline, do it. I want all of them secured! I will only say this once: if anyone falls, we will not be able to retrieve them so anyone with a range weapon — do whatever idiot that falls a favour if they do.”

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

What nothing told you about life or death experiences was how absolutely absurd they were. There were no big revelations, no reel of your life going before your eyes, no philosophical moments where the ulterior meaning of life was revealed to you. It was just you, and whomever else was with you in that moment, running around as survival instincts kicked in. As they did, the realisation that you might as well die came to you, and instead of thinking about everything you did not get to do, or everything you could’ve done differently, all you did was noticing really stupid details, about really stupid shit. 

Julianus didn’t need to wait to have another experience with death to know whomever said otherwise was fucking lying. 

Instead of thinking about anything that would’ve risen up to the dourness of the hour, they were thinking about their art teacher from Altazor, the one they had when they were in primary school and they had taken an art extracurricular. When they were around ten, they went through a phase where they only wanted to paint the sea. Their teacher had shown them a Neviv painter who painted ships and stormy seas, and Julianus had decided they only wanted to paint the sea from then on. 

The sky looked like the paints of that painter. Julianus couldn’t even remember the name of the painter.

They had stopped taking the extracurricular not long after that. Part of an ongoing issue they had associated with lack of confidence in their sense of self, and their struggle to keep habits. The former had to do with having been indirectly punished for their openness of self, which left them more vulnerable to other people’s opinions. A vulnerability they were never given proper tools to deal with. When they tried to find who they were in front of the world, too many factors had convinced them for years that who they were was inherently wrong. From mean peers to their own parents, or the expectations of their family, and no matter what image they projected, it all weighted them down. 

The other had to do with a long time undiagnosed hyperactivity and focus divergency. No one believed them about it until they took the matters in their own hands, because how could someone ‘as smart as them’ have it. It simply had to be laziness, or something other. They had been over this already, about how too many people had opinions on who Julianus Sanlaurento had to be, or was, without actually bothering to check who they actually were, or even given the chance. 

The other extracurricular that succumbed to all of that was magic. However, they had taken it up again in their last years of schooling before university, as they had in free hours they were left alone to their own devices. That halt in their studies had made them more knowledgeable in the history of it and the relationships different cultures had with it, than to the practice itself. It was one of the reasons why the Sea Palace had had no interest in them, besides the fact they thought (both Jules and the Scholars) they did not have any particularly differential ability in it. 

They never stopped practising it after that, even if they never mentioned to anyone, unless they were forced to. They had taken it up under a mentor again in Firent, where they took it as a university extracurricular with a magician who was adept to energy manipulation — electricity in particular. Jules had taken to it like fish to the water, even if, once again, they ended up using it for little. 

She always said plasma and electricity weren’t harder to manipulate than other types of matter. People tended to be more afraid to do it, because it required the magician to make themselves a receptor of that energy, and for a series of reasons, people did not seem comfortable with malleable matter that may or may not zap you. 

Somewhere to their right, Drew hissed. 

“Are you alright, darling?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, I just grabbed my knife and I got a static shock.”

Jules snapped out of their trace. “Swords work as conductors of electricity, right?” 

“What?”

“Like, you can catch electricity with a sword, can you not?”

Drew and Elizabeth looked at them with concern. Also, like perhaps, they had gone a little crazy. 

Theo, however, had their answers. “It’s metal, so in theory it would work. Though not all metals conduct the same way, but that’s the principle of a lightning rod… why do you ask?”

“If I do something that’s potentially really stupid, involves magic, and I technically know how to do but haven’t done it in years and never outside of the context of a classroom, do you promise to not let me fall into the water? I don’t actually want to die.”

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

Julianus was either a genius, insane or terminally stupid. They were about to find out.

Storms had always been their favourite weather and they knew an electric storm had to be in the making. Sounds around them were too clear, humidity was annoyingly oppressive, there were no birds flying, Marcius was hiding under the covers of Saoirse’s bed (Jules double checked he was safe) and it smelled like a storm. 

Electric storms came with lightning. With the right magical knowledge, anyone could manipulate them. However, they needed to get to the Beak of the ship, and there was no way Saoirse would let them do that if it put them at the risk of falling into the water. El Corazón Sangrante, however, wasn’t that far away from the Ruby. It was a sensible jump, even by their poor eye-estimation of distance.

All they had to do was try. 

From the perspective of anyone else in the crew, this was what happened: Julianus used a rope from the rigging to jump from one ship to the other (a very bad experience, which they would not like to repeat). They told something to Jade, Rodrigo’s sailing master, and for some reason, Jade agreed to it. Perhaps, she was as desperate as everyone else to get out of the strait. Meredith, still on the Ruby yelled-asked who let Sanlaurento do such a thing. Saoirse looked at them with confusion as they ran with the rapier they had gotten for them during a raid in hand; said confusion turned into dread when they realised what part of the ship they were running towards. 

The panic they felt when they saw them climb past the forecastle and onto the very narrow surface to stand before the bowsprit began, threatened to dissolve the body they chose to use every day. They ran towards the bow of the Ruby, ready to jump into the water if they needed.

“Julie!” They yelled, trying to make them turn, but it was like they didn’t listen.

A thunder broke behind them as they lifted a leg over the railing. That’s when they saw it. With both arms extended, their sword on the left hand pointing towards the sky, a lightning strike hit Julianus. 

Jules condensed it in their free hand as it sizzled and crackled without harming their skin. Angling themselves, they threw it into the water, hitting one of the sirens straight on the chest.

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

Having to face the Siren songs that close to the water was, perhaps, one of the worst life experiences Jules had ever gone through. It was something about their rabid eyes and the promises they sang of.

They could see them, almost. They could see themselves in it. A model child, a partner, two children and a pet. A stable job. A good relationship with their mother. Esteem and respect from the social circle they had grown in at the expense of nothing. The sirens sang and they went to a different school, they had different tastes, they had more knowledge, a better capacity to concentrate, a different career, they were more athletic. They were immaculately perfect, always pleasing everyone and always knowing the right thing to say. Whomever that abomination the Sirens sang about was, it wasn’t Jules.

They could see why. They could see how they would twist their fear of never being enough, their fear of being utterly mediocre, against them. They could see how they took that away, and left a perfectly sanitised carcass that, in a lower point of their life, they would’ve given into. 

The wind played with their hair as they felt one thing, and one thing alone: rage. 

Their frown was set as they began feeling static build around them and with steady breaths they stood in posture. They lifted their sword as their angry, teary eyes met with the fishy ones of the sirens in the water. It wasn’t about being stronger than them or more powerful than them. Neither was the case: They were just Jules. 

Just Jules. Poetic, hopeful, intelligent, strong-willed, imperfect, full of love and terrified to give it, yet determined to plant the garden of their life no matter how many times it was destroyed. Jules who was full of grief, and full of happiness, and Jules who knew they would never have the life that was promised to them, because that life required of them something they would never be able to be without sacrificing who they truly were. 

It was okay. It was okay not to have that life and not to be that person. Whoever they were now was better anyway. 

Lightning struck their sword. They knew what to do. 

When the Sirens went quiet, numbed by the electric sock, they slid their back against the wood of the ship. Hanging on some rope and their sword for dear life they sat down with their head between their legs. 

Saoirse found them moments later, pulling them up and carrying them back to Meredith’s ship in their arms. 

“I can walk you know, I’m just a little dizzy.”

Saoirse didn’t put them down. “Were you going to tell me you could manipulate lightning, or was I supposed to find out this way?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant to mention. Did it work?”

They let out a noise of annoyance. “Yes, yes it worked. But if you want to do that again, it’d be better you practised. You could’ve fallen into the sea, you could’ve—”

“But I didn’t. I’m here, Saoirse.”

They shot them a look, but the relief that it worked, and the wonder that their Julie could do such a thing won this time. They kissed the crown of their head. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“I mean it. Let’s get you some water and something to eat.”

“I’m sorry I scared you, I really am.”

Saoirse sighed. “You’re forgiven. You did great.”

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

Beyond the Strait of Seals, Captain Syd of the Inuwashi looked at the lightning strike back in the waters of the Strait. Hideko stood besides them. 

“I didn’t know Saoirse could do that.”

Heron spoke behind her. “Are we sure that’s Saoirse?”

“Well, colour me surprised Cabin Boy, I don’t remember asking your opinion.”