#i may finally be recovering from my group project burn out

[malpractice-morale]

currently sacrificing grades, group projects and friendships in the name of sleep and mental health🥲

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)

Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.

Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!

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3 May 1965

The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.

“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out.  “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”

Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.

“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.

Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.

“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.

Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.

“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.

“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”

“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.

“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.

“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.

“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.

“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.

The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.

“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.

“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.

“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”

Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.

Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.

“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.

Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.

“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”

“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”

Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”

“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”

“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.

“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.

“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.

“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.

“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.

After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.

Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this ��favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.

“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”

“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.

“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”

“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?

Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.

The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.

As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.

Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.

As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.

After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.

Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.

Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.

“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.

“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream.  Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.

Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.

Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.

“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.

“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.

She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.

“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”

After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”

Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.

~~~~~~~~

“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.

Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”

“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.

“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.

“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.

“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.

Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.

The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.

She felt like internally combusting.

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.

Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.

Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.

Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.

“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”

“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.

“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.

Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”

Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.

“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.

“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”

“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.

“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.

“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.

“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.

“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.

The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.

They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.

“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.

“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.

---------

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby

[ninjago-happens-here]

'Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.'

@ninjago-angst-week am I late or what? Sorry but I think spewing out 21k words over teh course of 3 days killed my motivation. It took 3 days just to write 6.1k words.

Summary:

P.I.X.A.L. notices that the store of bandages is running low. She thinks about all the times she had to use them on one of her teammates, and its purposes.

“Hey Pix! We’re running low on bandages. Can you help us order some before we go to Shintaro?” Nya’s voice came from the medical bay of the Destiny’s Bounty. The Ninja and Master Wu were going on a trip to Shintaro. Unfortunately, Pixal never got an invite, but she has long been used to being left behind. It’s not that it was a bad thing, per se. Pixal knew the importance of having a backup, and having someone watch over Ninjago whilst the Ninja were gone. Still, to distract herself after placing a digital order, she thought about anything that could distract her. That thing just happened to be about bandages.

Bandages. Neat, white little things that wrap around any land or sky creature. According to Wikipedia, a bandage is a piece of material used either to support a medical device such as a dressing or splint, or on its own to provide support to or to restrict the movement of a part of the body. When used with a dressing, the dressing is applied directly to a wound, and a bandage is used to hold the dressing in place. Other bandages are used without dressings, such as elastic bandages that are used to reduce swelling or provide support to a sprained ankle. Tight bandages can be used to slow blood flow to an extremity, such as when a leg or arm is bleeding heavily.

At first, that was all P.I.X.A.L. knew about bandages. Given that she was built with the main purpose of being Cyrus Borg’s assistant, her primary knowledge consisted mostly of the ins and outs of Borg Tower, emergency protocols, customer service skills, and basic first aid, given that her maker was frailer than your average Ninjago citizen.

Of course, the longer she worked under Cyrus Borg, the more she learnt about the medical field. Curious about Mr Borg’s special circumstances, she was permitted to look through the internet for more information. In no time at all, she learnt about surgery, prosthetics, all different kinds of medication, and how to diagnose illnesses. In her given free time, she studied all the information available on the internet about the medical field. Even though the information was useless to her, an android who had no physical weaknesses like the humans do, her system determined that whilst the knowledge was a bit excessive, it only helps to prepare her to care for Mr Borg.

She never really needed to apply all that knowledge about serious and fatal cuts, but when Borg gets even the slightest injury, P.I.X.A.L. was there to offer her assistance.

A year after she had been created, Cyrus Borg had offered her to take a test of the field in medicine. P.I.X.A.L. had immediately felt lighter and better somehow. When asking Borg why she was feeling this way and if robots could get sick, Borg had laughed in surprise and shock.

“That feeling is happiness, P.I.X.A.L.! It’s an emotion that all living creatures feel, you included.”

“But I am not living-“ Mr Borg cut her off.

“Technically, you are right, P.I.X.A.L., but you are intelligence, and intelligence is what defines life. You can adapt, change, and overcome as all living beings do. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise! Because that would be an insult to my intelligence!” Cyrus Borg said encouragingly. “And robots can technically get sick, from a digital virus. But I created you to be strong, stronger than I ever will be. You should not have to worry about them.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded her head to show her understanding. “Then I will go to the exam.”

P.I.X.A.L. didn’t pass on her first try, but Mr Borg told her that it was alright, given that she still did very well considering that she only had the free internet to look for answers to a test she was unprepared for. It was human for her to have failed.

“So why did you send me there with no preparation?” P.I.X.A.L. asked with a shaking voice.

“To prepare you for failure, my dear!” Cyrus Borg said patronisingly. “Since I’ve built you, you’ve been perfect in many, many ways. And that isn’t a bad thing! But life isn’t that simple. You may fail in one way or another in the future because like humans, the circumstances may not be what you desired and plans can fall apart due to errors. What I want you to know is how failure feels like, and I will help you recover from it.”

P.I.X.A.L. nodded. It won’t be long before she faced her first, real big failure.

- Lloyd - The first time she had to really apply those skills that she learnt was when the team had seen Lloyd in the village. After he was pulled out of the ocean because he had to escape from an exploding plane that the Digilord had trapped him on. The locals had wanted to help, but Lloyd wasn’t feeling like having strangers cut him up, so they offered him some basic and outdated medical supplies.

P.I.X.A.L. could see him trying to treat himself and to stay awake, and she could see him hiss as the alcohol drizzled on his wounds.

“LLOYD!” Kai shouted in a tone that conveyed panic. This made the young ultimate spinjitzu master look up from his handiwork and immediately break into a smile. As the team had rushed forward to greet him, P.I.X.A.L. could see that his shoulders were sagging, probably from relief.

“I’m so sorry that I got caught guys,” Lloyd wheezed with an apologetic smile before keeling over, to which Cole caught him with shaking hands.

“Oh god, Zane, quick, do your thing!” Kai panicked even harder, hands jittery as if he was in an internal debate about whether he should do something or not.  “I’m trying Kai! I just- my hands keep shaking for some reason!” Zane gritted his teeth in frustration. “I’m gonna run some diagnostics on him” “Okay, Cole, lie him on a flat surface- medic! Medic!” Nya screamed out.

It was at this moment that P.I.X.A.L. knew that was her chance. To repay Zane for his heart. To prove to the team that she was useful. To finally implement her knowledge. Sometimes, she wonders if she’ll ever have what Zane has with the other humans, but for now, she is glad that she can separate her emotions from her work.

“Let me handle it,” P.I.X.A.L. said authoritatively. Running a scan with her own diagnostics, P.I.X.A.L. isolated the most dangerous injuries before telling the group out loud, staring at her apprehensively.

“Master Lloyd has suffered a concussion, lung damage due to smoke inhalation, and fractured bones in his tibia. He also has a sprained ankle and several bones on his upper chest area have several bruises. Luckily, there is no internal bleeding. He also has some first and second-degree burns, but those look like they have been treated by the ocean water. However, he is at risk of hypothermia should he not change out of those clothes. Other cuts and bruises should not be life-threatening as long as we keep the infection away, and-“

“WE GET IT! Can you just PLEASE start treating Lloyd NOW?” Jay shrieked in frustration. P.I.X.A.L. blinked. Oh right, the ninjas are still panicking.

“Apologies, can I have a look at the medical supplies?” Taking a scalpel out of the medical box, P.I.X.A.L. removed Lloyd Garmadon’s shirt and so multiple bruises as well as the look of someone who’s emancipated. It didn’t really make any sense to her, but she supposed that being drained of his elemental powers must have caused some damage.

“To treat his concussion, he needs peace and to rest. I would like if all of you can speak in whispers from now on,” P.I.X.A.L. began. The soup suddenly looked ashamed and guilty, with Jay whispering a soft ‘sorry’.

“To treat his hypothermia, we would need blankets-“

“Why can’t I just warm him up with fire?” Kai cut across. “Well, the extreme heat can damage the skin or, even worse, cause irregular heartbeats so severe that they can cause the heart to stop. However, starting a campfire some meters away could help a little. using this fire, we can make some warm beverages and some food.”

“Just say what we gotta do doc, we’ll listen!” Nya begged swiftly. P.I.X.A.L. thought for a moment, before choosing to sort people out based on their perceived abilities.

“Kai, Jay, Cole, Sensei Wu, and Sensei Garmadon- please look for blankets in the village and start a campfire over there,” Pointing at a spot a satisfactory distance from Lloyd, P.I.X.A.L. continued with giving instructions. “Start making some sort of soup- not too heavy. Zane, Nya- you’re with me.”

Garmadon, who was silent all this time, started to protest. “I cannot leave my son, Pixal.”

“Fine, you may stay and just keep tending to the campfire,” P.I.X.A.L. conceded, not wanting to waste time arguing. There was the matter of fact that the smoke inhaled by Lloyd Garmadon could be fatal, but there was not much that she could do in his location. All she could hope to do was to treat his minor injuries before ensuring that Lloyd is stable enough to go to a hospital in Ninjago. Which would have been impossible, given that the Digilord had control of the city already. What could she do? Maybe there’s an elemental master of the air who could treat Lloyd?

“Pix, do you not have any ideas on how to treat the smoke inhalation?” Zane looked at her with kind and understanding eyes. Pixal nodded, defeated, before preparing a cast. “We need concentrated oxygen and a nose tube or a tube down his throat. Unfortunately, there is nowhere in Ninjago where we can get to such technology.”

Hearing this, Nya immediately perked up. “But we can make them. Zane, do you have any wires that you can spare for a bit?”

“Redirecting power from the right hand,” Zane replied as he opened up his arm to take out a tube. He’s so self-sacrificing. For some strange reason, P.I.X.A.L. felt her heart beating faster. Maybe Zane was nervous? “Nya, if you could please clean this?”

“Of course. HEY KAI!”  “Yeah, sis?”  Nya was looking at P.I.X.A.L. expectantly. Oh yes. she was supposed to know this, wasn’t she? “Can you get us 10 cups of potable water and 1 cup of vinegar? Also, get some detergent or soap.”  “Okay Pix, not gonna question this at all!”

Meanwhile, Nya was using pure H2O to just start blasting the tubing As much as they wanted Lloyd to not die from smoke inhalation, they also didn’t want him to be infected. Speaking of infections…

“Ow!” Lloyd woke up sleepily as Zane used one hand to dab his cuts. Looking sheepish, Zane immediately offered an apology before Nya cuts in and admitting her mistake.

“Go back to Lloyd,” Nya said, petting his hair. Once Kai had returned with the necessary materials, Nya sanitised her hands before delicately cleaning the tube with 10 parts water and 1 part vinegar.

Tightening the wrappings around Lloyd’s ankle, Pixal studied her handiwork. The splint was holding up nicely against Lloyd’s leg, and all the infections on Lloyd’s legs were taken care of. Seeing as Zane is treating Lloyd well enough, P.I.X.A.L. immediately began to start diagnosing Lloyd’s burns before seeing blood flow from Lloyd’s back.

“Oh, dear.” In her hast, P.I.X.A.L. had forgotten to check Lloyd for injuries from behind. Maybe she wasn’t as professional as she thought. There was no other choice. Looking at Zane firmly, they pushed Lloyd onto his side as he gave a pained groan.

P.I.X.A.L.’s mechanical heart sank. Lloyd had a reason for sitting up without any support. There were several pieces of debris stuck to his back, and they were all pushed in due to them lying Lloyd on the desk. Nya looked up from her task in horror.

“I’m so sorry Lloyd, I didn’t know-“ “Nya, please focus on your task,” P.I.X.A.L. cut her off before she could begin crying. She felt bad, but what’s done was done. Blocking Lloyd from’s Nya’s view, P.I.X.A.L. picked up a pair of tweezers before picking up the small pieces. But the large piece of metal stuck in his shoulder blades- Pixal had to cut Lloyd’s skin to get that out. Eyes narrowing, hardening her resolve- P.I.X.A.L. lightly cut Lloyd’s skin using the scalpel before pulling up a long shard of bloodied glass. Picking up some of the unused water, P.I.X.A.L. quickly cleared Lloyd and the flat-surfaced of their blood. Applying pressure to those wounds would be hard from this angle, so after disinfecting the openings, P.I.X.A.L. took several rolls of bandages before tying them around Lloyd’s chest. Not too tightly, that would further bruise his ribs- but tight enough to ensure a sense of security and staunch the oozing bleeding.

“Zane, do you have an oxygen filter?” Nya asked, having been satisfied by the cleanliness of the tubing. Sanitising her metallic hands, P.I.X.AL. heard Zane sigh before declining.

“I do. Mr Borg wanted us to be at least a little environmentally friendly, given that the Nindroids would be using large amounts of energy every day. So I can filter out excess greenhouse gases in the air and store them in their solid form before giving the raw materials back to Borg Industries,” P.I.X.A.L. offered.

“You’re a lifesaver Pix,” Nya said in relief, handing P.I.X.A.L. the tubing. P.I.X.A.L. smiled. She supposed that she actually was. Opening Lloyd Garmadon’s mouth, P.I.X.A.L. inserted the tubing down his throat with NIndroid precision. Connecting the end to her oxygen filter, P.I.X.A.L. adjusted the settings so that she was inputting air composing of at least 60% oxygen into young Garmadon’s lungs.

As Zane finished applying some frost to Lloyd’s burns, the 3 of them stood there and watched as Lloyd breathed in and out.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’ll go find what the guys have been doing,” Nya informed their group. “I too will go into the village, but to ensure that we have permission to stay here for the night,” Zane stated, giving a nod to P.I.X.A.L., before walking away into the dusk, right hand locked and useless.

P.I.X.A.L., knowing that she can’t really move, sat next to Lloyd Garmadon as she watched the campfire grow as shrieks from the ninja team rose. At the end of today, all P.I.X.A.L. wanted to do was to just shut down and recharge. She knows she doesn’t need to know that she had half of Zane’s heart (which just skipped another beat for some unknown reason), but all she wants was a break.

Too bad that being a ninja means that you don’t really get to choose when to stop. P.I.X.A.L. thought to herself.

But at least today, I’ve proved my usefulness. I can repay Zane for his heart.

- Kai - Having been stuck alone, disassembled and scrapped, P.I.X.A.L. found that she really, really missed the Ninja team. She also missed Zane, though he was in a cell next to hers. He’s been offline for such a long time, P.I.X.A.L. had fears that he would never wake up.

But he did. And the ninja had rescued them from Chen. But along the way, they had lost Sensei Garmadon, and the year apart had caused some major issues.

Kai doesn’t know that they’re here. But he shouldn’t be here either after Zane had ordered that everyone go to rest after this long day. Still, the glint of red from his eyes even scared P.I.X.A.L., but she would never tell anyone that. She watched as Kai shredded the bandages he wrapped around his hands by destroying a metal training dummy, before turning around to wrap some more.

“Why is he doing that?” P.I.X.A.L. wondered from inside Zane’s head. Zane started whispering, “He… has some anger issues.”

“I get that Zane, I mean why’s he wrapping his hands in bandages?” P.I.X.A.L. corrected herself. Zane quirked an eyebrow but continued with answering P.I.X.A.L.’s questions. “Well, martial artists wear hand wraps and bandages because they can prevent injuries and improve the power of their punches. Wraps and bandages also protect the martial artist’s skin and soften the impact on hard surfaces.”

“I see,” P.I.X.A.L. stated whilst both of them cringed, as Kai delivered a particularly hard blow to the metallic dummy that Zane was supposed to fight with.

“KAI, PLEASE SHUT UP!” came Jay’s voice from down the corridor, moving closer towards them. Zane and P.I.X.A.L. watched in apprehension as Kai breathed heavily, staring down the metallic dummy before all the tension from his shoulders sagged.

The Nindroids watched as Kai cleaned up the training room and head out to use the bathroom to wash up.

“He’s being too hard on himself for the death of Lloyd’s father,” P.I.X.AL. commented blandly. Zane shifted from his position. “I’m afraid that that’s not the only reason. Do you remember Jay telling us that Kai had almost killed both Lloyd and Skylor using Chen’s staff?” P.I.X.A.L. stayed silent.

Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.

- Jay - It was only a few days after Master Wu had been lost in time. Whilst the Ninja team were recuperating and in shock, Pixal has been remotely using Samurai X to patrol the cities whilst maintaining in the current Ninja’s headquarters- the electronic system of Yang’s temple. P.I.X.AL. had really wanted to go full into Samurai X, but she knew that she could not just desert her teammates at this moment. But there wasn’t much she could do, other than counting reps for Lloyd. (You skipped a number, I know what you’re doing Pix, and I ain’t gonna stop training-) helping Jay prepare breakfast (Jay! The pancakes are burning!) or accompanying Zane as he retrieved bits and pieces from all the fighting. (Someone has to clean up Ninjago city, and I guess that that would be me and Samurai X.)

P.I.X.A.L. knew that she shouldn’t be keeping Samurai X a secret, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt a strange sense of duty, and the ability to finally be on the front lines, fighting the same enemies as Zane. And she wanted some secrets to herself.

Still, it surprised her when Jay had demanded her full attention during one of her free times.

“Hey, umm… Pix? Do you- do you think you could maybe check out my left eye?” Jay stammered whilst twiddling his fingers. Pixal was curious, but she’s already moved to Jay’s laptop. “Why do you ask so? Did your eye get hit sometime recently?”

Jay had flinched at the word ‘hit’, but shook his head at the word ‘recently’. Huh. Maybe it was phantom pains? Still, Pixal had run a diagnostic on it.

“I can’t seem to find any physical abnormalities, but if this is a case of phantom pain, over the counter pain relievers should work.”

Jay nodded whilst his eyes were blank seemingly off to another world or lost in his memories.

“Jay? Jay, can you hear me?” Pixal once again ran a diagnostic scan. It seems that Jay was slipping into dissociation. Dimming the lights in his room as well as all the screens the blue ninja had put into his room. Pixal started playing a calm Ninjago lofi mix from the speaker she was in. She gently called Jay’s name and he slipped back into reality.

“Jay, just take 2 doses of ibuprofen. They’re at the lowest shelf at the kitchen counter. If it hurts again, tell me and we’ll bring you to a professional.”

Jay who was nodding at the instructions froze at the thought of being taken to the hospital. Still, he slid off his bed and made his way downstairs. Pixal filtered through the electronic system of the temple, landing new the smart fridge and watched as Jay swallowed 2 pills dry.

It seemed to create some results because Jay stopped shivering and shaking. Pixal wondered if that was just a placebo or an actual effect. Still, watching Jay’s face relax in bliss, free from whatever pain that was bothering him, Pixal knew that she made the right call.

- Nya - S9, fight with SOG

It had been brutal. Pixal was just treating the training injuries Lloyd had when Skylor came into the noodle house, helping Nya to walk as her left arm dangled without any purpose. Immediately, Pixal stood up and took quick strides, scanning Nya for all her injuries.

“We were getting supplies when a bunch of Harumi’s goons jumped on us, we had to be quick so that none of them could call up for back up, when-“  “When- fuck, when this dude pulled out a fucking gun,” Nya said, pained and heaving as Skylor slowly helped her to sit on the training mat.

“So you were shot?” Lloyd’s voice came from behind Pixal as he took the medkit to the mat. Nya eyes looked everywhere but at him. Gesturing to her limp and bleeding arm, she gave up all her dignity. “Yeah, right here.”

“Okay, Nya, here, take these.” Lloyd handed her 2 tablets of ibuprofen and a cup of water. “W-what? No, I can’t take these!” Nya hissed in pain.

“Yes, you can!”  “What if we need them later? What if one of us loses an arm or something happens where we have a worse injury?” “That does not matter, Nya. Look, I’ve been shot in Ninjago city before, I know how it feels.”

Pixal immediately flashes back to the nights where she had to help Lloyd through a computer screen, and her metallic fingers curled up. It was horrible, watching him choking down painkillers before trying to pull the bullet out himself. Never again.

“Nya, it would be alright, just take these- we can always go out to get more,” Pixal tried coaxing Nya to just swallow the pills.

“Take them or I’ll force you to take them, Water Ninja.” Skylor admonished. With the combined strength of their motley crew of 3, Nya hesitantly reached for the medicine, almost choking as she had swallowed too much water at one go.

“Okay, good, now we just need to pull the bullet out,” Lloyd reached into the medkit, pulling out a pair of tweezers. Pixal watched as his hands, fatigued from all the trains, couldn’t stop shaking.

“Wait, Lloyd, let me see if the bullet should be removed at all.” Pixal interrupted, taking a more in-depth scan at Nya’s shoulder. In the meantime, Lloyd started to check through Skylor, who said that he was all clear except for a few knuckle bruises. Of course, Pixal would check on her later, but now she had to make sure that Nya would be alright.

“The bullet has missed your major arteries and it actually isn’t in too deep, possibly because of the protection offered by your suit-“ “Just tell me when you’re gonna remove it!” Nya snapped as her brow furrowed in anticipation.  “Well, let’s see… first, we need to remove the clothing around the area of the wound, which-“

“AHH!” Nya shrieked as Pixal twisted and pulled out the bullet without any warning. “Sorry Nya, sometimes fear of a thing could be greater than the actual danger that it poses,” Pixal explained as Nya stared at her with a look that could only scream betrayal.

Dropping the bullet to the ground, Pixal took up some disinfectant and sanitised the area around the entry wound. Nya hissed as Pixal gently presses a cotton gauze to stop the bleeding before finally applying some sort of disinfectant cream. She finished off the wound with a bandage around Nya’s arm, with extra padding using gauze at the point where the wound is at.

“Alright, so now you should not move this arm too much for the next few days, and in the next few weeks, you would not be able to raise it over your shoulder. But in a few months, you can use it again and in a year it would be pretty much healed up so that you may do your weight lifting sessions with- with Cole again…” Pixal said, starting brightly but dropping to a small whisper.

The mood suddenly went from cheery to depressive. “Remember to take lots of rest,” Pixal finished lamely. As Lloyd escorted Nya to the sleeping bags they had gathered, Skylor picked up the bullet Pixal had removed.

“Girl, you were quite mean back there,” Skylor began. “And I think that you’re cool. One problem- the pharmacies have not been able to continue business as normal. All the drugs have to be given to the Sons of Garmadon. In the meantime, all supply chains are disrupted. Over the counter medicine won’t be so easy to find. “

Pixal kept quiet. “Well, I’ll have to keep this bullet as a souvenir for Nya. FSM knows that she deserves this.”

Of course, the bullet would be lost later as they were hunted down throughout the city. But every time Nya changed into her swimsuit, Pixal could see the bullet wound. The scarring left wasn’t pretty, but Pixal thought that the courage Nya showed made her the most beautiful woman she’ll ever have the chance to meet.

- Cole-  Cole was alive. Cole was alive!

Pixal watched as the Ninja went into a momentary stop before cheering and becoming more alive. She saw Nya pass the Scythe of Earth to Cole, who promptly swung it into the oncoming Oni. Pixal was trying her best to fend off the Oni herself, but her mind, or rather, motherboard, was spinning really, really fast. How did Cole survive? It should have been impossible!

Pixal heard that Cole justify his survival, stating that the Oni clouds must have broken his fall. He didn’t know how he wasn’t attacked at first, but many tendrils then came to attack him.

Still, this was impossible for Pixal to figure out. Was it because Cole had been a ghost? Maybe it was his elemental power protecting him? Or perhaps it was divine intervention? Either way, Pixal was going o scan him later if there was even a later.

“Watch out!” Pixal saw a blast of green hit the Oni in front of her. I can’t afford to get lost in thought now! Come on Samurai X, focus! She chided to herself.

Yet, as the battle once again turned tides, and the elemental masters got together to do the Tornado of Creation, Pixal watched from her position behind the holding doors to see Lloyd Garmadon get thrown out of the tornado, hitting his head with an earth-shattering crack as he collapsed against the walls of the monastery before debris-covered him.

Frantically approaching him, Pixal saw out of the corner of her eye that the rest of the ninja were left dizzy, exhausted, and possibly some having passed out. That was alright. It was time for her to do her duty anyways.

However, whilst lifting slabs of concrete, Pixal felt her heart drop. The calculated survival rate of the impact sent shivers down Pixal’s circuits as the percentage just kept. Dropping. Lower.

Heaving the last piece of concrete off the young bearer of green power, Pixal heard her teammates rushing into the scene. She could have warned them, said something, said anything. But her joints were frozen in place with something much colder than what her sensors had detected when she went into the Oni cloud.

The motley crew, now only 5, took the last piece of debris off from their teammate.

“Lloyd. Buddy, wake up,” Kai pleaded, desperate.  “He-He's not moving!” Nya exclaimed, voice shaking as tears start to form. She looked at Pixal, asking for anything, anything at all.  “Someone find Wu. Where’s Wu?” Cole ordered.

In no time, Master Wu arrived and lifted Lloyd’s arm, checking his pulse. He would find nothing there.

“You can do something, right? Right?!” Jay panicked.  With a defeated look that Pixal knows is mirrored in her eyes, Wu shook his head and said, “There’s nothing to be done.”  Nya finally cries out, sobbing. “Oh, Lloyd!”

PIxal wanted to cry as well, but she never could. When rebuilding her body, she had used the same blueprints that Cyrus Borg had with some upgrades. One thing she didn’t consider adding was the ability to cry because there wasn’t any time. She had to save Lloyd from the vermillion. But what she can’t save Lloyd from, was from an early- early- d… fate.

There’s nothing Pixal could do. And she felt hopeless.

She watched from the corner of her eye as Garmadon backed away from their small group, and in a flash, she felt her wires burning. She couldn’t just let him leave. Not after what he’s done.

Yet, just as she was about to boost straight towards the Oni and tackle him off the mountain, Lloyd started to cough. Lloyd. Started to cough.

Whipping around to see a golden petal float away, she watched the team cheer as Lloyd started to breathe. How- this was impossible!  Pixal almost short-circuited from shock. There had been no way! No way! She didn’t even go through all 5 stages of grief yet.

And not too soon, Lloyd woke up from a sleep that she was sure that he never would.

Catching him mumbling something about the First Spinjitzu Master, Pixal smiled. Divine intervention had definitely happened at least once today. The first time being….

“Cole, please come with me to the med bay,” Pixal requested with a smile. Divine intervention or not, five-sixths of the Ninja team knows how to hide a serious injury, and she had to be certain. Cole, who looked shopped, resigned himself and walked with Pixal o the medical centre. For now, she trusted that Zane was doing all the scans that he could to make sure that Lloyd was right in the head, and sought out to take care of her own, albeit selfish, worries.

Scanning Cole on both sides, Pixal noticed a particular bad bruise on Cole’s spine. Yet falling from that height and the fact that Cole isn’t paralysed due to spinal injury made Pixal reaffirm her theories that the First Spinjitsu Master was alive, just in another realm.

“You know, Lloyd might have actually seen the First Spinjitsu Master,” Pixal began, which led Cole to choke on the water he was ordered to drink. “No way, he must have just hit his head hard…”

“I’m sorry Cole, but the injuries you have is comparable to sleeping on a rock hard bed for one night, not falling from a height of 500m, even if your fall was broken by the Oni cloud, you should still have been paralysed,” Pixal explained.

“So God is real and Lloyd’s sharing a fourth of his blood? Neat! Next time tell him to not scare us with a fake-out,” Cole brushed it off.

At this time Pixal was about the shutdown and delve deep into theorising. Lloyd technically had a fourth of his grandfather’s blood and possessed the same power, could he possible have powers that control life and death-

Yet, she watched as a steady stream of Ninja enter the medbay, and resolved her thoughts to her inner GPU. She can think later. For now, she had to make sure that everyone is okay, and everyone will be okay. Even if she threatens Loyd to shave his head so she can get a better look at his skull, to which a chase around the monastery ensued. Her family was alright for now, and the concerning mortality of humans was left deep in the recesses of her mind.

- Zane - Too soon, Pixal had to face her own mortality. Being a Nindroid, her lifespan would naturally be much longer than a Ninja’s. But she still could be erased, dismantled, destroyed, sent to another realm-

The days waiting for the group of 6, not 5, to come back were some of the hardest. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to shut down, lie on her bed and stare into the picture they had taken on their first date, Pixal knew that the team was entrusting her to keep Ninjago safe. Even if it means recapturing escaped convicts. Even if it means fighting the… undead-dead Preeminent (Pixal still hasn’t figured out how she worked). And they had to find ways to reach the Never Realm, by going through different infusions of travellers tea.

Yet, all the waiting and longing was worth it. Pixal prefers a Zane stuck in another realm for 40 years as to no Zane. There was no other choice. Yet, as she sees her loved ones trudging out of the frosty realm, some of them had worst frost bites than others. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to smother Zane in a hug, she can see the edges of Lloyd’s skin turning a deep, dark black. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Nya taking care of Cole whilst Jay and Kai attempt to remove the ice from everyone else, including lubricating Zane’s frosted joins. She had not a single moment to lose. This kind of frostbite was not exactly lethal immediately, but losing limbs could mean the end of Lloyd’s ninja career. So calling everyone to attention, she went all in to salvaging Lloyd’s limbs, doing everything she could.

Later that night, Pixal spotted Zane wandering around the outskirts of the monastery whilst the Ninja finish up dinner. She watched as Zane’s hands gripped the staff so tight that the wood would be snapping in 3…2…1.

A harsh crack and splinters flying out later, Pixal could see the shaking in Zane’s hands as he cursed, something that the Zane she knew never would.

For her, it had been a hellish week. But for Zane? It must have been a hellish 40 years.

“…Zane?” Pixal called out from the monastery doors. Zane immediately whipped around before pointing the tip of the staff towards her, to which Pixal reflectively grabbed. Zane, eyes widening in shock and horror, immediately released his grip on the now shorter staff, before turning around, trying to run away. Pixal won’t let that happen.

“Zane,” Pixal said once again, hand now gripping onto the collar of Zane’s Gi. “Please don’t run away from me.”

Zane, froze, hands twitching before dropping them to his side. Pixal released her grip before tapping Zane on the shoulder, asking him to turn around.

“Pixal, I’m- I’m sorry…I just can’t- I can’t trust myself right now,” Zane vented out hands fidgeting with each other. Pixal smiled sadly. She knew that not everything could go back to normal so fast, but still, she had hoped that it would have been easier than this. “If you don’t trust yourself right now, why not spend some time with me?”

“Pixal- I…I could hurt you-“  “Yes you can, but don’t think that I can’t protect myself,” Pixal snapped back whilst carefully reaching to hold Zane’s hands. Once she made contact, Zane flinched back, before slowly reciprocating the action. “C’mon Zane, let’s go back into the monastery-“

“No!” Zane protested, wrenching Pixal back. Pixal clasped her other hand on top of Zane’s. “Not to the dining room. I’m thinking med bay.”

Pixal could see Zane’s processing unit cycle through his thoughts, noticing that it had considerable frost damage. Before long, Zane nodded his head, allowing Pixal to pull him into the light.

Opening the cupboards, Pixal took out a few rolls of bandages before carefully wrapping them around Zane’s hands. The ice ninja watched with curiosity as Pixal carefully finished tying and tightening the strips of cloth.

“Why are you doing this? You and I both know that Nindroids don’t need bandages,” Zane asked. Pixal smiled, looking at Zane’s now steadier hands. “Maybe bandages can’t fix our metal skin, but it still makes us feel better.”

Zane paused, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know how you’re right PIx, but they do make me feel more sure that my powers won’t hurt anyone accidentally. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now let’s get back to dinner, we have some desserts to bring out.”

Bandages. As much as PIxal uses them and finds them efficient, she can’t help but hope that team doesn’t need to use as many. But this time, t’s just a trip to a legendary city full of peace and prosperity. Maybe this time, Pixal doesn’t need to bandage their wounds away.

[yolkyeomie]

The Moon Is Beautiful | Kim Seungmin

summary — shooting your arrow into everyone’s heart had been so easy until you accidentally shot it into his

word count — 2.7k words

pairing — seungmin x gender neutral!reader (I tried to make it gender neutral,,,, let me know it’s not tho!!)

genre — fluff, high school au, CLIFF HANGER

disclaimer — this is for stayhaven’s valentine event so I hope everyone enjoys what I brought to the table :D !! sorry this is so??? messy and dumb and late LMAO just enjoy it for what it is 🧍🏾‍♀️

tags — @fluffyskzclub

You were bold and that’s what people liked about you. Well, bold in the sense that you had no problem doing things for others. Whenever someone was too shy, too anxious, too frightened to take charge you’d always be the one to do so instead.

It was a habit from when you were a child that only continued to grow and cultivate itself as a primary piece of your personality. You hated the amount of hesitation others took when a job needed to be done, watching people squirm and excuse themselves from doing such minuscule tasks was idiotic in your eyes. So you had always taken it upon yourself to offer up yourself as a substitution, to save both you and your peers from the potential disappointment or embarrassment that a situation called for.

Somehow everyone slowly caught wind of your selfless acts and they began to flock to your side in an attempt to gain your assistance. The issues usually were rather small: presenting in group projects, asking questions for others, ordering food, starting conversation, anything relatively close to those. You didn’t mind either, you never truly got sick of helping those who couldn’t help themselves.

Sure, there were times when people you’d rather not interact with seeked your assistance, but the mere fact that they had to swallow their pride and come to you was enough for you to continue without any second thoughts.

That was until you became the residential high school “Cupid”. It was a one time request, a girl you had known in one of your classes had scurried you to you in a rush and asked for your services and you agreed. She had beens a rather quiet figure amongst the usual rowdiness of the other students so one could only imagine how loud you cooed at her when she asked you to deliver a love letter for her.

So you did as asked, finding the lucky person who had such a sweet secret admirer and delivering the letter in a small yet endearing manner.

Not long after you had given the love letter to them, the two had gotten together almost immediately and you were thrilled. But somehow instead of the focus being put on the new couple within the school halls, it was on you? It had immediately spread that you were the one to give the letter and helped them get together and somehow that equated to you becoming Cupid.

After the occurrence that should have only been a one time thing, it became all anyone ever asked of you. Every few days out of the week you’d have a multitude of students rushing into your classroom when they got the chance and begged you to send their love letters to their crushes.

You’d try to decline for the sake of your own sanity but watching them grovel at your foot and beg was a little… uncomfortable to say the least.

That’s how you became the Cupid of your class, your grade, your entire school, and accidentally made the old childish tradition of sending letters to confirm a mutual attraction popular.

There’s only been two people so far that your Cupid’s arrow never seemed to notch though, no matter how many love letters were shoved their way. One of those being the boy that was approaching you now, Hwang Hyunjin.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin exclaimed, frankly waving his arms in the air and his eyes sparklingly with pure glee when he finally caught your attention. You couldn’t help but smile back at him, his happiness being contagious if you had to be completely honest. You could see why he often received the love letters you were meant to deliver.

Though your eyes immediately caught sight of the pink envelope in his hand, the sight of the object was rather familiar in your time as the resident ‘Cupid’ of your school.

“I can’t believe my eyes,” you jeered, a smug smirk beginning to stretch across your face as he approached you. “Hwang Hyunjin, the infamous lover boy of this generation, handing me a love letter? Tell me, who is the lucky person? I’ve got to know, this is the biggest news of the century!”

The boy rolled his eyes at your teasing, holding the letter away from your gremlin hand as he spoke. “Haha, that’s so funny but no! It’s not mine.”

You involuntarily whine at his response, snatching the letter out of his hand with one big hop and collapsing into the desk. “What do you mean it’s not yours?” You question him scanning the letter up and down for confirmation. It was a nice rosy pink shade and smelled just like lavender, as if it had been sprayed with the specific scent. It was shut tight with a heart stamp placed on it like a wax seal and even had pretty neat hand writing at the top that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You did, however, know that the handwriting belonged to the boy that stood right in front of you denying ownership of the letter. “This is your handwriting, how is this not yours?” You argued, “and don’t try to lie and say it’s not, I’ve seen your essay drafts enough to know what your handwriting looks like.”

The boy winced at the thought, quickly reminiscing on the memories of the two of you working together on projects before returning to reality. “I know it’s my handwriting, but it’s not mine— the letter, I mean! I was asked to write everything down because the sender wanted to remain anonymous.”

“Anonymous?” You repeated making sure you heard him correctly. You searched the envelope for any sort of signature and lo and behold, there was none that you could find. All that was left on the outside of the card was a yellow sticky note with a locker number written on it.

This was… a first for you. Usually when people asked you to deliver the confessions of love to the receiver, they wanted their name mentioned so that they wouldn’t get you confused with someone else. Even then, just in case, they always had their name written somewhere on their envelopes to ensure that the receiver knew exactly who they would be responding to. No one had ever asked you to anonymously deliver letters.

“What? Are anonymous letters out of your requirements?” Hyunjin questioned, playing with a strand of his silky black hair as he grinned at you.

You shook your head immediately, though struggling to release your gaze from the mysterious letter. “No, not at all. It’s just… new I guess? I’m so used to knowing who exactly I’m going to and who I’m delivering for. It’s weird.”

“Why? Because you’re no longer in the loop?” You nearly jump out of your skin as you turn around, the hair on your neck standing straight up like a cat’s. The doggish smile of Seungmin stared back at you, a teasing glint in his eyes as he took the envelope out of your hands. “Wow Y/N, I never took you to the nosy type… but I guess being the school’s Stupid Cupid changes you.”

This was the second person who’s heart you could never strike with your Cupid arrow, Kim Seungmin.

You struggle to comprehend his words, ignoring his insults as your ears immediately begin to burn in a sense of embarrassment as you bite back at him. “I’m not being nosy!” You try to convince him, taking the letter out of his hands. “I’m just not used to giving these without any background information, that’s all.”

“Does wanting background information mean you're being nosy?” The boy questioned, his light chuckle like music to your ears despite his taunting words, “your trying to poke your nose into business you have no right to be in.”

“These letters are my business,” you snap back, “I’m the one who delivers them, for free even! I should know who is sending them and who is recovering them. It just… makes sense!”

You’ve known Kim Seungmin for awhile now, you weren’t strangers at all. In fact your mothers went to school together when they were your age, so in a sense the two of you were close. But Seungmin always treated you like an annoying little sibling any second he caught, pushing whatever button he could find. You never bickered, per se, he just enjoyed making fun of you and you were very easy to make heated.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah whatever…” He shrugged off, not even noticing how much he was pushing him buttons. “Whether you like it or not you are not entitled to that kind of information. Let’s be honest there’s probably a reason that it’s not stated who is going to and who it’s coming from.” 

After a moment of thought, Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “You’re a very well-known person around the school now, they’ll be put in the spotlight just because you’re involved in their romance. They probably won’t like all that attention but still want you to deliver the letter.”

“Well…,” You trail off seeing their side of the argument. As much as he wanted to know what was going on, you do have to respect their privacy. “Ugh, I hate it when you guys make sense it makes everything less fun.”

Seungmin grinned ear to ear at your surrender, quickly shooting an off handed comment,” we’re just trying to make sure that our Stupid Cupid doesn’t get into a fight with someone because they decided to invade someone’s privacy.”

“It’s not invading privacy!” you snap back at him, beginning your daily bickering once again. You knew he was right but you’d rather jump into the ocean and let Seungmin have the last laugh. “What, I should go deliver this before class starts… And before I decide to choke you out.”

“Wise decision,” Hyunjin laughed, side eying Seungmin as you stood up from your seat. “I’m almost one hundred percent sure Seungmin wouldn’t be able to fight back anyway.”

“Hey—!” Seungmin didn’t get the chance to respond, not when Hyunjin leaped over the desk to cover his mouth and you begin dashing out of the room. As popular and close to Seungmin as Hyunjin may seem, he would always cover for you at the end of the day. Which worked out well in your favor... most of the time.

Thankfully he had held off Seungmin long for you to get away, gleefully skipping down the bright hallways with a pep in your step. It didn’t matter how many times you had to deliver a love letter to someone, whether it was anonymous or not, you’d always feel a warm feeling in your chest knowing that the feelings you held in your hand were raw and true.

And if you had to be honest? Knowing that the letter you had now was completely anonymous to keep their emotions hidden from the rest of the student body made your heart warm. Oh young love… how sweet it must be to be in love.

“One thirty-two…,” you counted to yourself, scanning the numbers written on the lockers. It didn’t take long to get where you needed to be, luckily the love letter was being delivered to someone near your own locker. You knew this hallway like the back of your hand since this is where you usually could be found.

Every so often a student would notice your presence in the area and spot the love letter in your hands, chaos soon beginning afterward. The whole hall would flare up in eager whispers and trembling hands as everyone wondered, ‘is it me? Is it my turn to get struck by your arrow?’

Their hopeful smiles would soon drop into disappointed groans when you passed them without a second thought, still searching for the anonymous receiver’s locker. Constant questions of ‘who is it this time?’ would spread across the room as you continued your search, as curious as you to figure out who was getting their heart pierced by Cupid’s arrow.

“One thirty-nine…,” you continued, blinking your eyes rapidly as you looked back from the love letter to the locker not that far from you. The sticky note attached to the letter had been addressed to locker number one forty-one and somehow you hadn’t noticed that that’s you. You're locker one forty one, that’s the one you were occupying for the school year. “Wait, what?”

You glanced from the locker number to the sticky note and it wasn’t wrong. You were at the right locker, which meant the love letter was addressed to you in the end. It really was your business after all.

“What am I supposed to do? Prick myself with my own arrow,” you joked, leaning up against the metal compartments to look a little closer at the letter in your hands. You were notoriously known for setting couples up together just by giving the confessions to them, but what were you supposed to do if you didn’t know who it was?

You didn’t mind getting into a relationship yourself, honestly you didn’t, but you didn’t know who it was from! Hyunjin gave you no clue and he didn’t even point out the fact that the locker number written on the sticky note was yours. “This makes me infuriated for some reason,” you mumble, pressing your back up against the lockers as you begin to carefully open the letter for yourself.

As soon as you opened the envelope the scent of lavender became even stronger, as if the letter itself was sprayed heavily with a lavender perfume. You also didn’t mind that though, lavender was your favorite scent for perfume. You could often be found trucking through the halls with the smell of lavender groves trailing behind you.

To the Stupid Cupid,

The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?

From,

Your Psyche.

“Stupid Cupid?” You hissed, annoyed at the teasing that could be found in the love letter. If someone was going to write you a love letter, shouldn’t they have been a little nicer to win you over? You get other couples together, but that doesn’t mean you’d be won over so easily. “How rude… there’s no need for name calling.”

This saying however, you’ve seen it before. Well, not seen, more like heard of it every so often. It was A Japanese saying that was seen as a more intimate and poetic way of confessing your love to someone.

You knew specifically because every so often you’d have other students run up to you and ask if the “the moon was beautiful, isn't it?” was a good way to ask out their long (but usually short) term crushes. No one that had ever asked you had the guts to use it since it felt like an odd way to confess but here you are now, staring at the words written on the letter addressed to you.

“Wait a minute… Stupid Cupid?” You repeated, standing up to your full height as you read over the letter again. You read it once, twice, three times, four, maybe even more before you realized that no one who simply admired you from a afar knew your nickname was Stupid Cupid, only close friends. Even then, Hyunjin had never used it as a way to address you, the words have never even fallen from his mouth and he’s one of the closest people to you.

You could already cross out him as a potential candidate anyway because you knew exactly what his handwriting was like after working with him for so long. It was even on the front and back of the envelope too, but the writing within the letter wasn’t Hyunjin’s at all. You knew it was a little too neat and legible to him. The only person with handwriting like this hand for have been…

“Hey, Stupid Cupid!” You turn your head with neck breaking speed, your eyes widening as the familiar nickname matches to the voice and face of Kim Seungmin as he walks down the hall. He waved his hands to you innocent as he caught your attention, his teasing puppy grin growing wider with every passing second as he called, “did you deliver that letter already?”

You glance down at the love letter before you look back up at him, the feeling of disbelief morphing onto your face as you blurted out without thinking. “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it, Seungmin?”

[mooglesorts]

man. it's weird, because there's a lot of things about me that are Very Badger Primary, to the point where i would probably pick it with a strong bird model over anything else at this point... except that i hate dehumanization. i saw primaries described recently as 'things you wouldn't be you anymore if you went against,' and more than just about anything else that's it. even when i think people are monsters, i can't see them as not human; i'd be hard put to define exactly what i consider a 'monster,' but it's more about like. good faith than personhood, i suppose?

it's not necessarily a permanent status to be one--people can change--but my deeply held instinct is that once you have done something monstrous you will always be a person who has been a monster by your own choices, and that it's your duty to learn how to accept that while still living your life, and act accordingly from thereon out. you have to reconcile that you are a person with the fact that some doors are closed to you now, and it's up to you to decide what you do from there.

just. like. even when i hate someone and as far as i'm concerned they can go fuck themself, even in the multiple Heavily Badger social environments i've been in over the course of my life--church, progressive circles, the way the structure of the internet kind of just affects you in general--even on occasions where i've gotten swept away and given in to the pressure to dehumanize (or perform it) for a minute, there's always, always been a voice in the back of my head saying this is a person. this is a person. this is a person. this isn't right.

unintentional dehumanization sets off my '...should we really be doing this? we are getting into not good territory here, it's time to pull up and start questioning' alarms. explicit, intentional, purposeful dehumanization sets off the whole ass tornado sirens. if people on my side are doing it it's enough to throw me into a system-destabilizing crisis, because NO NO NO I WANT TO GET OFF THIS RIDE, I WANT NO PART OF THESE PEOPLE'S MORAL SYSTEM, I FEEL UNCLEAN. it's a good way to make sure i will never, ever, ever trust someone again.

things that are Really Really Badger, off the top of my head (after the cut because Long and trauma talk):

[[MORE]]

---

-i've always loved playing adoptable games, pet simulators, etc? any game with randomly generated characters that are Yours Now and a Community, in a deeply badgery way. including games where they can die (the satisfying part is making sure they don't). except that, no matter how much fun the gameplay is, if it gets to the point where they start feeling disposable, and the only way to really keep playing is to stop humanizing them, i lose interest. it's super fucking depressing. it feels like part of me dying inside a little. i don't like it at all.

-i've always been drawn to fandoms and roleplaying communities. i was fiercely loyal to, and proud of, my first rp community on dragoncave as a 13-year-old. when my abusive mom found out about it and completely isolated me for half a year, the promise of being able to make it back to them--just sneakier this time--kept me going; when i finally got back and the group had drifted apart in my absence, it.... was absolutely devastating. i never really recovered from it. even then, i spent years trying to get the group back together every now and then, until i finally gave up.

-i am always keenly, painfully aware of the life cycle of a community. every time i hear the sentiment 'you guys are all great and i love this group' my stomach drops, because i know it's only a matter of time before things go sour or the group dissolves. rp groups, skype chats/discord servers, fandoms, you name it, i am always bracing myself or staying away entirely to avoid the inevitable and it hurts. and it hurts to see people taking part in a community i don't dare be part of, which makes lurking in fandoms... really rough. frankly, it takes me a lot of courage every time i express my appreciation for the shc community because i've been burned so many times.

-on that note: i went through some really traumatic stuff at the end of 2020 that completely turned my life upside down, and i was doing bad until i stumbled across the shc community. the moment i started engaging, it was a huge boost to my mental health, and my ability to cope with circumstances under which i was about to break down spectacularly. and it has been ever since! contributing to The Group Project and seeing other folks being friendly with each other gives me the happy feelings.

-i used to go out of my way to build and run spaces, mainly fandom and rp spaces, and took a lot of pride in engineering them so that they Functioned Well. unfortunately it wore me the hell down over the years for Burnt Badger Reasons, and now i'm too jaded, bitter, and exhausted to give a shit about being a mod/community leader anymore because of it lmao

-among those burnt badger things i relate HARD to the Red Ledger narrative. hoo boy.

-i wish i could find it again, but there was an mlp comic i saw once which went into luna's observations of what each element of harmony Means. with the element of friendship, she says that twilight has a massive amount of love to give; right now it's all focused on celestia, but when she learns to expand it outward she'll have grown into her full potential as a person, and she'll change the world. that struck a chord with how i used to feel, hard, and it's really stuck with me ever since. (hello, unhealthy snake model)

-emphasis on 'used to feel,' lmao

-got super invested in a really toxic '''mental health''' community at a low point in my life; exploded HARD trying to help everyone i could; got into vicious, protracted fights with the shitty mods for years about the harmful way they ran their community until i finally managed to go 'fuck this it's not getting better' and leave.

-had to numb myself emotionally to the people around me for a long time once i really started learning about mental health and trauma stuff, because now i was seeing signs of their pain and baggage everywhere i looked, and i couldn't handle not being able to help.

-the imagery with which i think about my bird primary is overwhelmingly negative. whether it's my actual primary or a model, i uh. i feel like a healthy relationship to one's primary doesn't involve associating it with gore.

-i saw a conversation recently about how birds think of morality in terms of 'if you can, you should,' and how that's scary for badgers because their definition of 'can' involves destroying yourself for the sake of that 'should,' and... yeah, that's a mood. that's a BIG mood. thinking about bird primary stuff is hard--and i had to pick up my lion model to deal with it--because it's so easy for me to spiral into a self-shredding spiral of other people are counting on you to do the right thing, how dare you pull back for your own health and sanity. how dare you turn your back for even a minute. how dare you rest. the work is never done.

which is... a very exploded badger approach to exploded bird morality. whoops.

-fix-it and time travel fiction in which Everything Went Right This Time and It's Going to Be Okay are one of my very favorite self-indulgent fantasies. i will enjoy putting characters through the wringer in all kinds of creatively horrific ways which may or may not end on a downer note, certainly, i love that shit, but i will also 90% of the time have a backup version of the arc or dynamic that's softer and lighter and Actually Healthy This Time. it's the dichotomy there that really gets me tbh, a story where Everything Ends Happily by default will mmmaybe pull me in? but stories where there's the constant shadow of this could end horribly, it's supposed to end horribly, and we got a happy fucking ending anyway are just... that shit will make me cry, man.

it's also why i kind of really hate stable time loop stories where it initially looks like this is going to be The Good Timeline this time around, but OOPSIE everything went to shit anyway! we're right back where we started, just like it was meant to be all along! it's a tired cliche by this point and an unsatisfying one for me, and it makes me roll my eyes every time.

-this is relevant to the bird vs. badger because like... my gut instinct is to prioritize people over systems. when shit hits the fan, when someone's fallen into the machinery and is about to get hurt, i don't feel right about it if i just let it happen. i'll break the machinery if i have to to keep it away from them; i won't feel great about that, and it might cause problems, but fuck it, we'll figure it out later. throwing people into the gears of a system when i'm convinced it's the only option makes me feel Awful.

-related to the above, another trope that really speaks to me in fiction is when a character defies the rules of reality through sheer force of will. no, this is not happening, i don't give a shit what the limits are supposed to be. i refuse to let this be the way things are. (there's that lion model.)

-i've just kind of... always wanted to be an Everyone Badger. it makes me sad how much of that i've lost over the years as i've gotten more cynical, but it's what i wish i could be.

---

doubtless i'll think of more the moment i hit send, and there are just as many things about me that are Super Bird Primary, but like... mamma mia that's some spicy badger. the main thing stopping me is the Can't and Refuse to Dehumanize bit. i also... hm. i think i can function okay without a community? they just help a lot, and it sucks when i'm confronted with one i don't have a (stable) place in. any thoughts? is it possible for a bird system's foundation to run so deep that eventually it overrides the bird?

[plantcrazy]

ABOUT

This blog is a collection of my comic shorts, fanfics, AU's and other works for the Henry Stickmin series. Asks for any of my AU's, or how I make this stuff (writing/ideas/art) are welcomed and encouraged.

I’m Chanti /Chirpy (@chirpycreations​). I’m working on this blog alone, so updates will be when I have time and wrist able, since I’m dealing with a repetitive strain injury (the latest update on that can be found here).

📝  - Ask Rules - 📨

No anon magic ⇾ Sorry, my stories are mostly plot driven, so it wouldn’t work.

You can ask characters outside the main cast, but please keep it relevant to the story. (E.g. Don’t ask what Chuck Wellington had for breakfast.)

No NSFW! ⇾ Just....no.

Preferably no swearing ⇾  I’m not a big fan of it, so if you could keep it out your asks that would be appreciated ^^

Be patient ⇾ I’m just one person (also recovering from a wrist injury), I have my own life as well as over projects I do. I can only get so much done at any given time.

Ask Codes

So, this is an l idea want to try. At the start of your ask, so I know which AU (or ending in Triple Warfare’s case) you’re asking put the corresponding ask code.

It’ll make it less confusing for me ^^

eg: “TT: Reginald, how do you keep your moustache so radiant?”

(If you want to ask both you can use “+” as the start instead)

Ask Code [Triple Warfare]

⇾ TT (Triple Threat ending)

⇾ TC (Toppat Civil Warfare ending)

Ask Code [Lost Children of the CCC]

⇾ 3C

Ask Code [General]

-> G

About AU’S

Fan fiction: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29895810/chapters/73573791

Chapters available (17/4/21) : 3

Ask Status: Open

Characters available:  Anyone who’s appeared chapters to date.

This WON’T affect the story, just a fun extra if anyone had any burning questions they would like answers to.

About 📖

Following a few months after the Triple Threat ending, Lost Children of the CCC follows the story of Reginald Copperbottom who must help his clan break free from the Wall and restore them to their former glory, whilst evading government capture. 

Then, when a mysterious stranger offers Reginald a way to return his clan to its former glory it seems like a no-brainer but to accept. However, as time passes it becomes clear that the conditions of their offer- a blood sample from his Right Hand- is not his only concerns. Something from his friends shadowy past has been unearthed and is now coming for not only him, but the Clans future.

Meanwhile, Henry has settled into his final ending and is enjoying his new life with his friends and fellow teammate’s Charles and Ellie. With the Toppat’s locked away, it seems nothing could go wrong: A perfect ending...

...that is if you ignore the fact that RHM was a cyborg, even those he shouldn’t be. Not in this ending. But everything's fine. Sure his abilities are a little... ‘janky’ right now, but that’s probably just cause there hasn’t been much chaos lately to exercise them with since the Toppat’s are locked up. It surely can’t mean anything, besides! What’s the worst that could happen when he has his closest friends and government on his side.

That is until Henry meets the new Toppat recruit...

Plot driven ask blog: Comic

Status: Finalising Planning (, working on intro animation, aiming for a mid/ late  May start).

Status: Closed

Characters available: NA

About 📖

You know...

Henry was starting to get really sick of waking up like this.

His head was fuzzy like always, but this time it was proving...problematic.     See, the last thing Henry remembered was being on a mission with Ellie and Charles. With the Toppat Clan gone, other groups had tried to fill their place. Groups which the Triple Threat (, special operative under the government assigned by General Galefore,) had been working on stopping and this is where his problem was. The Toppat’s were no more, the leaders locked away, remaining members had disbanded and Henry knew for a fact the Airship had still been impounded. He’d seen it not even the other day, clipped wings gathering dust in the yard and yet...here he was:

Locked up in an operational Airship’s brig.

He could hear the engine.

He’d seen the Toppats which had bough him scraps- because those stale chucks of flour were NOT food.                                                                          He could smell that distinct burnt coal smoke whisking thought the air conducts.

It was impossible.

Had to be, right?

“If... If anyone can hear me, I’d love some company round about now...”

[irondadbigbang]

IronDad Big Bang 2019 Masterlist

Masterlist below the cut! Or read on AO3.

Baby Bird by WhimsicalEthnographies @whimsicalethnographies

Peter stares at the envelope, sitting in the middle of his work table, in his little corner, in Mr. Stark’s lab. He’d been checking the mail as soon as he gets home from school and pulled it out before May got home, which won’t be until after nine o’clock. And there it was, finally, the envelope adorned with Massachusetts Institute of Technology, gray and maroon across the white paper.

art by ulzyuu

Castle on a Cloud by CaptainStarSong @captainstarsong

“How the Hell am I supposed to help some kid when half the time my own life is crashing and burning,” Tony asked, incredulous that Fury was thinking that he could possibly take care of some little boy that he didn’t even know. There was a reason why Tony’s life was practically always falling a part, why the closest people around him either died or left him. It wouldn’t be fair to bring some kid into the mix of his crazy life, especially after Afghanistan. 

Fury took a deep breath as looked at Tony with a hint of pity. “Because, Tony, his name is Peter and he’s your son.” 

Or in which SHIELD finds a young and hurt Peter after raiding a HYDRA base, and Tony must learn how to become the father Peter needs.

art by eve-valution

Casualty of the Darkness by kianisabitch @kianisabitch

Peter remembers when they used to cuddle or simply curl up together and listen to each other’s heartbeats. They used to be the perfect couple. Alex would bring him milkshakes when he had a bad day, he always came to Peter’s science fairs and he even let the boy sleep over at his house whenever May had a night shift at the hospital (which was more often than not at this point due to a single paycheck never being enough to support their small family). But slowly, Alex stopped doing those thing. It started with him forgetting to bring Peter milkshakes when his eyes were red rimmed or anxiety attacks shook through his bed like a hurricane, but quickly morphed into daily insults and verbal abuse and then backhands to the face when he was angry or hands grabbing him too hard and finally the violent sex he was now so used to. Sometimes he missed how their relationship used to be. But the good times were a thing of the past and there was no use mourning what he no longer had. 

OR 

Peter is stuck in a highly abusive situation and Tony starts uncovering the truth in order to save the spiraling teenager.

Damaged At Best (Like You’re Already Figured Out) by JolinarJackson @jolinarjackson

”Don’t come any closer,” Spider-Man said, his hand raised threateningly, his fingers resting against a trigger mechanism nestled into his palm. 

”Alright,” Tony answered. For a moment, they looked at each other – Tony stuck to the wall on one side of the alley and Spider-Man stuck to the other – then Tony opened his helmet to show his face. 

”Hey, there”, he said. ”Nice to finally meet you.” 

— 

The Avengers are left shaken in the aftermath of the Sokovia Accords. With half the team under house arrest at the Compound, Tony finds himself seeking refuge in Avengers Tower and starts forming a tentative friendship with the neighborhood vigilante Spider-Man. A friendship which is quickly threatened by Secretary Ross doubting Spider-Man’s intentions and integrity. 

Tony is left wondering who to trust, especially when Spider-Man manages to uncover the one secret Tony never wanted anyone to know about: the child Tony had with a woman named Mary Fitzpatrick sixteen years ago.

art by @shoyzz-art

Dreams Like Ashes by Captainkirkmccoy @captainkirkmccoy

Tony Stark may not know the danger he’s unleashing on himself, his team and his kid by reworking the old plans for the PASIV/Dream sharing project his father sold to the military, but he does have the best intentions. Irondad Big Bang.

How The Mighty Fall by Meep_Morp @gayspiderboy

Since his duel against Toomes on Coney Island, Peter’s life has settled down considerably. May knows about his double life and accepts it (mostly). Tony has welcomed him back, and given him more independence as New York’s Spider-Man. 

One night during patrol he crosses paths with Connor, a teenager who has Extremis in his blood and answers to the wrong kind of people. Though Tony is quick to distrust him, Peter finds himself reluctant to follow his mentor’s lead, and a bond develops between the two boys. Their relationship is further complicated when Connor’s former master, Negative, makes it a personal mission to destroy them both in his quest for power. 

Taking down a superpowered psychopath? Tough, but Peter isn’t going to back down. 

Stopping Tony from blasting his first potential boyfriend into space? He might need a miracle for that.

If You Could See Me Now by geekymoviemom @geekymoviemom

New York City is bracing itself for the worst hurricane to hit in over thirty years, and the kid isn’t back yet. 

Light by funnygirlthatbelle13 @funnygirlthatbelle

Tony Stark has given up. While the other heroes are in Wakanda trying to figure out a plan, he drinks to forget in New York. But when he discovers tickets to Next to Normal; a rock musical about mental illness, grief, the misuse and abuse of drugs, and parents recovering after the death of their child; that he and Peter had bought, he is forced to face his worst fears all over, and learn that, despite everything he’s been through, there may still be light.

Look Over Your Shoulder, I’ll Be There by Colourcodedbinders @colourcodedbinders

It starts as a simple enough gag: see how long he can manage to keep sneaking into Avengers Tower with his friends before Tony Stark notices. But when an unexpected gaggle of men wearing identical ugly navy blue suits and driving around in equally hideous blue cars join the mix, controlled by a guy with horrific fashion sense and the strength of twenty pumas, Peter has to suit up and do what he does best: superhero the hell out of it. 

And if it ends up being the hardest, scariest, most unplanned thing he’s ever had to do? Well then that’s no one’s business but his. (And Tony’s. Definitely also Tony’s.)

Radioactive by Emily_F6 @justme--emily

Things haven’t always been great between Tony Stark and his son. He wasn’t ready to become a father…didn’t even know he had a son until the boy’s mother died. Over time, though, he thought he got the hang of it. But that was before his son went on a field trip to Oscorp and was seemingly left fighting for his life.

Sea Spider by Bean_reads_fanfic @the-reverse-mermaid

“Tell me I’m not the only one seeing this,” Tony prompts, gesturing to their catch. 

It’s a kid. A teenager, by the looks of him, no more than 15 or 16, with curling brown hair plastered over his forehead and eyes. He lays there prone on his side, covered in cuts- some shallow, some deep, all of them most likely caused by the barbs on the fishnet. Tony can just make out blood matted on the back of his head- he probably hit it on the side of the boat and got himself knocked out. Clinging to his torso is a soaked, faded t-shirt and below that… 

…below that, his lower body is a tail. A full-on fish tail. 

(Mer!Peter AU)

Sometimes, a Family Is by CrystalRoza19 & NeonCrayons

Sometimes a family is comprised of you, your recently divorced dad, an unruly group of teenagers and a semi-unemployed former world-class neurosurgeon… 

Peter Stark hoped that moving back to the city would help his father get passed all the struggles and animosity that plagued him after his divorce. What he hadn’t thought to hope for was a way for his father to move on; he’d always had a hard time letting people go, after all. 

Stephen Strange was everything Steve Rogers was not. Maybe he could be everything Tony Stark needed to heal his broken heart. Throw in an unruly group of teenagers and you have yourself a family.

turn back the clock (and I’ll try again in the morning) by madasthesea @madasthesea

Peter gets stuck in a time loop. In it, he lives through some of his worst nightmares, only to wake up that morning and have no one remember. He needs Tony to help him get through. 

And if that isn’t bad enough, his identity is revealed over and over, every day.

art by @the-reverse-mermaid & starlight-sparks

VERENDUS by Lorein_nur 

New York 1935, Trish Parker was on her way to deliver a letter when all hell broke loose on the busy streets. Due to fates twisted sense of humor she found herself caught in the middle of a mafia disspute, if a stray bullet doesn’t kill her May sure as hell would.

art by @hereandnowwearealive

We’ve Made It This Far, Kid by EmAndFandems @jlmarch

Tony’s just trying to protect the kid from SHIELD. Why does everything have to be so hard? 

Meanwhile, Peter’s biggest problem is buying movie tickets, until he gets a harsh awakening.

[persephonesfill]

oh! darling

a/n: I wrote this because I was sad over stony, and if I have to be sad, so do you guys. Be aware, Steve does have panic attacks throughout this fic, so if that's something that might trigger you, please take care of yourselves. I don't want any of you to seriously hurt yourselves. That being said, I cried four times while writing this. Enjoy! Also, friendly reminder that I don't own Marvel or anything related to it. This is all just for shits and giggles.

summary: Steve Rogers was no stranger to pain. From birth, he had dealt with a whole slew of illnesses ranging from asthma to scarlet fever. Chronic colds that left him bedridden and trembling. Heart palpitations that stole the breath from his lungs...But the pain of seeing Tony slumped against a stray bit of wreckage that had once been their compound—their home—outclassed every wound Steve had ever received. No stab wound, no gunshot, no repulsor blast had brought him closer to death than this moment.

ship(s): steve rogers/tony stark

rating: teen and up

warning(s): canonical character death, grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms, panic attacks

—————

Steve Rogers was no stranger to pain. From birth, he had dealt with a whole slew of illnesses ranging from asthma to scarlet fever. Chronic colds that left him bedridden and trembling. Heart palpitations that stole the breath from his lungs. 

One particular moment was forever ingrained in his perfect memory. The Great Depression had just kicked off. Steve had been 12 when his mother took on extra shifts at Mount Sinai, treating tuberculosis patients just to make ends meet. She had never meant to bring it home with her. 

The same disease that had taken her life six years later had first tried to take her son. 

He remembered feeling like he was in Hell as the fever and chills swept over him in excruciating waves. Each breath felt as if someone had wrapped his lungs in barbed wire. When his mother had seen the blood he had coughed into his handkerchief, her face had paled. 

One night as the fever burned its way through his body, taking what little strength he had with it, Steve finally heard her. During the few hours he was awake, Steve had only been allowed to see his mother; she had already been exposed to TB. Each hour he spent with her, not once did she fall apart. She would smooth back his sweat-soaked hair and press cold compresses to his forehead to break the fever as much as she could. She had stood tall, a pillar of strength, just for him. 

But at night, Sarah Rogers let her suffering show. 

“Not my son,” Steve had heard her say, and he could see her then, even though he barely had the strength to open his eyes.  Her frail shoulders wracked with sobs, her arms wrapped around herself as if it would keep her from crumbling. “Please, God, don’t take my son.” 

The inferno in his lungs paled in comparison to the pain that had erupted in his heart that night. 

His mother didn’t deserve to sound like that. She didn’t deserve to sound so broken. As the fever ravaged his body, Steve vowed that he would fight. He would fight this disease and anything else that tried to knock him down, to make sure his mother never sounded like that for the rest of her life.  

The serum had been his ticket to freedom. His mother may have been long gone by that point, but part of Steve hoped that when she looked down on him, she could rest in peace knowing that her son wouldn’t be on death’s door anytime soon. Steve remembered the first breath he had taken after the serum went into effect. He had reveled in the rush of air that swelled in his lungs. Gone was the tightness in his chest, the lightness in his head. He had been reborn, devoid of every scar, bruise, and ailment that had troubled him for 25 years. Not even the war and HYDRA and all of their enhanced weapons could leave a mark on him, although they did hurt like a bitch; wounds that would have killed any other man, Steve recovered from within a day. 

But the pain of seeing Tony slumped against a stray bit of wreckage that had once been their compound—their home—outclassed every wound Steve had ever received. No stab wound, no gunshot,  no repulsor blast had brought him closer to death than this moment. 

For the first time in over a hundred years, he couldn’t breathe. A long-dormant part of his brain thought “asthma attack,” but that couldn’t be possible. Why would the serum fail him now? After serving him dutifully all these years? So why couldn’t he breathe? Why, with every intake of breath, could he only taste ashes and blood and smoke? 

Tony’s dead eyes, black and unseeing, bored into him, and something inside of Steve’s chest snapped. Bile rose up, searing his throat. This was wrong. Everything was wrong. Tony wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be dead. Men like Tony couldn’t just die. 

“Not him,” he thought. His heart stuttered in his chest. The cut on his arm twinged as he lowered the remains of his shield. “Please, God, not him, too.”

The light in the arc reactor flickered once, twice, before fluttering out completely as if to mock him. 

“Mr. Stark?” a boy who could only be Spider-Man, given his spider-themed suit said, his voice wavering. 

“I lost the kid.” The memory slammed into him with all the force of a freight train. A half-dead Tony with his skin pale and stretched taut over his bones. They had lost that first battle and with it, Tony’s child in all but blood; it had nearly killed Tony.

The kid’s—and that’s what he was, God, how could they bring a kid into this—shoulders started to tremble. 

“Mr. Stark, please.”

It was the “please” that twisted the knife into Steve’s heart. The “please” that brought fresh tears to his eyes. After Natasha’s death, Steve thought he had cried them all away, but apparently, his body had made more. There was always more. 

Did the kid even know what he was begging for? But how could Steve judge him when he had done the same? 

Theirs was the pleading of children, scared and confused and desperate for the hurt to stop.

Pepper kneeled next to Tony, her head bowed in grief over the love of her life’s chest, and Steve remembered that this wasn’t his wound to bear. He willed himself to stop hurting, to stop feeling altogether, but he couldn’t. 

“He’s not yours,” his brain supplied as if that would help him. “He was never yours.” 

Steve’s shoulders sagged. The pain didn’t go away.

                                                       *************

Steve stood tall and rigid like a column at the funeral. Like a soldier. It had been two weeks since that final battle that had taken everything from him. He had tried to make his peace with it. He had tried to go on with his life. But that night before the funeral, he had broken, leaving his apartment a wreck. In public, Steve had always been silent in his grief. Reclusive. He hated feeling weak around others and only let go when he was by himself, raging at the cruelty and the injustice of the world with a fury that scared even him. 

He had screamed until his voice was hoarse, thrown furniture, and even tried getting drunk despite knowing it was in vain. He remembered begging at some point, just like the kid had, with bitterness in his blood and hard liquor on his breath. 

“Why did it have to be him?” he had said. No one had answered. 

By morning, Steve had been entirely devoid of all emotion, aside from shame at the state of his apartment. At least that’s what he wanted to project. Because the alternative...the alternative would have caused him more harm in the end.

So he stood there and paid his respects in a way that had suited his role in Tony’s life; an acquaintance. A stranger. 

The only one who had noticed something was amiss was Bucky, who had stared pointedly at Steve’s hands, which he had buried in his pockets. They had scabbed over in time for the funeral, but just barely. Steve had said nothing. What was there to say?

When the boat carrying Tony’s heart floated off into the distance, hugs and condolences were exchanged, and slowly, almost reluctantly, their group of mourners began to peel off one by one. Soon it was just Pepper and Steve left standing in the yard. Happy and Rhodey had left with Morgan to feed her. “Hamburgers,” Happy had said. 

Steve wasn’t sure why he had stayed. He had no business intruding on their home. But he couldn’t bear the thought of going back to that little Brooklyn apartment that felt more like a tomb than home these days. Part of him feared that if he went back, it would all start to feel real; Tony was dead, and there was no bringing him back.

Pepper pulled Steve aside, taking his head in hers, sitting on the wood and rope swing affixed to her front porch. A stray breeze carried the scent of sweet-smelling violets their way.

She looked beautiful, devastatingly so, and Steve was reminded of everything that Tony had sacrificed. She leveled him with a smile, although this close, he could see that her eyes were puffy. 

His suit was too tight around his neck. Steve was hot, too hot, and the sudden urge to tug it off was overwhelming. Hadn’t there just been a breeze? Why was he hot? The damper on his emotions loosened—there was the familiar pinprick of tears welling in his eyes, the tightness in his throat—before he got a grip. 

He shouldn’t have stayed. He had no right. He had no right to Tony. He had thrown that away the day he had decided to drive his shield into Tony’s chest.

“I’m glad you came, Steve,” Pepper said. 

At first, Steve figured she was lying, just for the sake of being polite, but no, this was Pepper Potts—“Stark,” his mind hissed—if she had an issue with him, she would let him know. 

“I’m glad I was invited,” Steve said, his voice coming out steady, much to his relief. “Thank you, Pepper.” 

Pepper’s tilted her head. Her hair shifted with the movement, flashing like copper in the evening sun. “There’s no need to thank me, Steve. He would’ve wanted you here.” 

The disbelief must have shown on his face. 

“Oh,” Pepper started. “Oh, Steve.”

Why was she comforting him? When he was the one who took her husband from her? When he was the one who killed Tony Stark? The tightness in his chest was back. He wasn’t sure if it had ever truly left him. 

He tried desperately to clear his throat, to wrestle some kind of control over his emotions before they broke through his carefully constructed walls, but goddamn it, he couldn’t breathe—

“Steve, you’re okay,” Pepper said, her hands gripping his shoulders. The contact grounded him, brought him back to earth for a moment; Steve sucked in a gust of air that rattled in his chest.

“That’s it,” she said. “You’re okay. You’re home.”

No, he wasn’t. This cabin wasn’t his home, and neither was that lonely apartment in Brooklyn. Home was...home was…

“You are home,” Pepper said firmly. “You’re with family. That’s your home.” 

“I’m not—we’re not—“

“Later,” he had promised himself earlier as he had gotten ready for the day ahead of him. “You can fall apart again later.” He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, let alone Pepper.

“We’re your family. Tony was your family.” One of her hands left his shoulders to smooth his hair back, just like his mom had done when he was a child. Steve found himself leaning into her touch, letting her words soak into his skin like ink. 

“I killed him,” he said, his voice cracking. Steve was cracking. He could feel the fissures in his heart, spider-webbing their way through his chest, his arms, his legs. One more blow and he’d shatter completely. “I took him from you, and I killed him.” 

He was so selfish. Pepper was the one who’d have to go on without her husband, her soulmate. She’d have to look after Morgan all by herself, and once again, he had made it about him. 

“You didn’t take him from me,” she said. Her voice had taken on a brittle edge. “And you didn’t kill him. I let him go.”

She let him go. She made it sound like it was the most natural thing in the world. How good of a person did you have to be to release lightning after you caught it in a bottle?

“You should hate me,” Steve said. 

Pepper shook her head. “I don’t. Tony didn’t. I can’t hate what he loved. And he did love you, Steve.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. 

Pepper pushed on. “He loved you. Maybe it wasn’t like he loved me, or Rhodey, or Morgan. But I do know he loved you.” 

There was no way. Tony was the type who had seen what he wanted and went for it no matter what anyone else said. He would have said something... wouldn’t he? But this was Tony Stark, Steve remembered. The same man who had kept the fact that he was slowly dying a secret for nearly a year. If he did love Steve, that secret had gone to the grave with him.

There had been a time before the Accords, before Ultron, when Steve had thought...he thought there might have been something building between them. Slaps on the back that had lingered too long. Their heads bent too close together for two colleagues, pouring over a file. And those late nights…those late nights when Steve couldn’t stay warm no matter how many blankets he piled onto his bed. When Tony couldn’t close his eyes without seeing exploding stars behind them. On those nights, they had found each other. And they had talked. About anything. Everything. Just because they could. Anything to make the nightmares stop.

And then Ultron had happened. The Accords. Siberia. And here they were eight years later. One of them dead, and the other halfway there. 

“I,” Steve began, but he didn’t even know what he was going to say. “He,” he tried again. “He was mine,” he finally decided. It was the worst possible thing to say to a grieving widow, but Pepper didn’t seem to mind. She had an eerie way of understanding him. “He was mine. He was my—he was my person.” That didn’t sound any better.

“I know,” she said. Steve’s resolve turned to water. His arms left his sides and engulfed Pepper in his embrace. “He was mine,” his voice broke on the last word, and so did the tenuous control he had over his emotions. He had always been prone to silent tears followed by hiccups and raging headaches that left him bedridden. The serum had taken care of the hiccups and the headaches. All that was left for him was to cry. So he did. He held onto Pepper, buried his face into her soft, long hair, and let himself die. A wet patch grew on his shoulder; Pepper was crying too. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. He knew it was useless. It did nothing to ease the godawful ache in his chest. The serum refused to cure that. Not even time would heal it. For as long as he breathed, he would carry this with him. Maybe eventually he’d be able to grin and bear it. Smile through the pain. 

Steve Rogers was no stranger to pain.

[daisylincs]

30, 48 + 75 for Staticquake

30 = Holiday AU, 48 = Fake Dating and 75 = Bed Sharing. 

Well wow, this ask combines some of my favourite tropes ever! So I guess it's really not all that surprising that it got totally out of control, and instead of the nice, moderately long fic plan I had planned, I have an absolute beast of a bullet-point fic for you. 

I’m not even kidding - this baby was eleven pages long in Microsoft Word. Eleven pages of pure fluff and smiles and fake-dating shenanigans under the Grecian sun. 

Now, I would say sorry for letting it get so out of control, but I'm afraid I enjoyed myself far too much! #sorrynotsorry. Here's to stories that write themselves! 

Daisy works as the chief programmer for Shield Incorporated - works so hard, in her friends' opinion, that she'll pass out on her desk before admitting she needs a break. (Daisy would argue, but… it's probably true.) 

So when their boss, Coulson, announces that the company will be sponsoring a trip to Santorini, her friends are all over her that she HAS to go. 

"Come on, Dais," everyone from Jemma to Mack cajoles. "Your next project can wait a week, and besides, this is the chance of a lifetime. You'll regret it if you don't go." 

"Guys, thanks for caring, but I'd really rather finish this -" she tells her assembled friends, but trails off as she notices Ward making his way across the room to them, clipboard in hand and sneer firmly in place on his face. 

Her friends’ mood instantly changes from oh-let’s-tease-Daisy to let’s-all-stand-in-front-of-Daisy-scowling. It gives Daisy a little warm glow to see that she has so many people who care about her, and are literally willing to jump into a fight for her, if the fierce look on Bobbi’s face is any indication.

In fact, if the air of hostility around them was any more obvious, Ward would literally drop down dead of it. But, somehow, he still manages to be oblivious.

“I’m here to write up who’ll be going to Santorini with us,” he says, smiling around the group.

Bobbi raises her hand, and Daisy has never seen the simple act look so threatening before. May, she thinks, would be proud. 

In stony silence, the rest of the group raise their hands, too, and Ward shifts just a little uncomfortably as he notes it down.

He turns to Daisy, looking her up and down slowly, and she’s already itching to slap him. “Of course, Daisy won’t be going,” he says, as though it’s obvious.

Now, Daisy really had been planning on saying no - right until he said that, at least.

“Actually, Grant,” she says, emphasizing his first name because she knows he hates it (she did pick up a few things, at least, before she found the cheating bastard in bed with another woman.) “I am going on the trip.”

 She pretends not to notice how her friends are exchanging gleeful glances, keeping her attention focused on Ward. 

“Really,” he drawls.

“Yes, really,” she answers calmly. “Why is that so shocking?”

Ward is smirking, and she hates the way he seems to have one over her. “Well, because this trip is specifically for couples.” 

Daisy’s jaw drops, and she catches Jemma’s eye over Ward’s shoulder. Why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner??? she asks with her eyes.

I didn’t know you were going to do this!! is Jemma’s nonverbal reply. 

Daisy huffs and tries not to fume, which fails miserably when she sees just how smug Ward looks. Little alarm bells start going off in the logical part of her brain, but the emotional part - the far bigger part - drowns them out.

“That’s no problem,” she says, keeping her voice light and casual. “I’ll just go with my boyfriend, then.”

Over Ward’s shoulder, she sees Jemma choke on her lemon water, and Bobbi reaches across to pound her on the back till she recovers. Once Jemma has stopped trying to swallow her own lungs, both girls give her WTF??? looks over Ward’s shoulder.

Daisy ignores them. “Yes,” she says as calmly as she can. “I’ll be going with my boyfriend, Lincoln.” 

She just blurted out the first name that popped into her head, but when she sees the looks on her friends’ faces - a range of you’re kidding, right? to I fucking knew it - she knows, oh dear God she’s going to regret this.

But it’s too late to take anything back now. 

At least she gets to enjoy the look on Ward’s face as he writes it up - like he’s simultaneously sucking on a lemon and stepping on a cactus. 

Just as soon as he’s gone, her friends round on her. 

"So," Mack says, his voice heavy with scepticism, “you and Lincoln are dating? Congratulations." 

Daisy feels her cheeks flame, and tries not to notice how Hunter is unashamedly sniggering into Bobbi’s shoulder. "Shut up,” she grumbles. “I wasn’t thinking straight, okay? Ward just drives me so mad, and I…”

She trails off as it really hits her what she’s done - she told Ward she was dating Lincoln, which she most definitely wasn't, no matter how much her friends insisted they were perfect for each other. And that would be bad enough on its own, but to make things even worse, she also can’t let out the truth, otherwise Ward wins.

"Well, shit," she says succinctly. 

Her friends are all shaking their heads at her, but most of them are hiding smiles. Daisy scowls, knowing full well this is only going to make the teasing about oh-you-and-Lincoln-should-totally-get-together ten times worse.

“So, do you want me to call Lincoln over?” Jemma asks, definite smugness in her grin. “I think he’s still working on that biomolecule project.”

“Thanks,” Daisy grumbles. 

Her friends all smirk at her, and Hunter being Hunter can’t resist getting a dig in: "You know, when we said we wanted you to come along, this isn't quite what we meant.”

Bobbi punches him, but she’s smirking, too. “Good luck, Daisy,” she says. “Have fun explaining.”

Daisy scowls at her friends’ retreating backs. Oh, they’re a bunch of assholes. They’re enjoying this. 

Lincoln’s voice snaps her from her thoughts. “Jemma said you wanted to see me?”

Oh, joy. How the hell does she explain this? She can't exactly say, oh, hey, Lincoln, I kinda told Ward we were dating, mind pretending to be my boyfriend for this trip I booked? 

"You can't be serious," Lincoln says incredulously, and Daisy's cheeks simultaneously burn bright red and blanch ashy white as she realises that shit, she said that out loud. 

"Um… Afraid I'm dead serious," she says, and winces. 

Lincoln's expression shifts into the special Daisy-what-the-actual-hell look he's perfected over the years of being her friend. "Are you crazy?" he asks, politely. 

She winces again. "Um, probably." 

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “You know,” he says, and she prepares herself for the inevitable Daisy-this-is-a-terrible-idea-what-were-you-thinking speech, “as ideas go, this isn’t your worst one yet.”

Daisy starts to nod, putting on her best contrite expression, but stops mid-nod as she realises what he actually said.

Wait, what?

“Wait, it’s not?” she asks.

Lincoln shakes his head slowly. “Incredibly, no,” he says. “It actually kind of makes sense.” 

Daisy narrows her eyes suspiciously as a thought hits her. “Hang on a second. You’re just saying that because you want me to go on a break.”

“Of course not!” he denies immediately. “Okay, well, fine, maybe. But it also makes sense Ward-wise, if you think about it.”

“Oh?” she asks, folding her arms.

“Well, this way he might finally stop creepily following you around, trying to get back together with you and persuading you that the breakup wasn’t his fault,” Lincoln lists.

Daisy can’t hold back a snort at that last one. It’s true, Ward does seem to think their breakup wasn’t on him - even though he had literally been sleeping with another woman for the entirety of their relationship!

Honestly, if dodgy relationship ethics were reason enough to fire someone, Daisy was certain Coulson would have kicked him out a long time ago.

“And anyway,” Lincoln continues, snapping her back to the present, “it’s not like we’ll even have to work all that hard to convince him. All we’ve got to do is hold hands and take a few cheesy selfies.” His eyes light up as an idea occurs to him. “Oh! And we can call each other really cringey couple names.”

She can feel the grin spreading across her face, because if you put it like that, this actually sounds really fun. “You can be snickerdoodle, and I’ll be honeypie.”

He snorts. “Snickerdoodle?” 

She bats her eyelashes up at him, stepping right into his space and talking in a baby voice. “My one and only snickerdoodle, I wuv you so muchhhh!”

He rolls his eyes, shoving her playfully away. “Okay, so we’re going to be one of those really cringey, clingy couples, then?”

“We are going to be the clingiest, most cringey couple in the history of the world,” she says gleefully. 

And oh my God, this is going to be the best thing ever. She can already see the look on Ward’s face.

She never thought she’d say it, but she’s counting down the days till the trip. 

Now, the company arranged for them all to meet up an hour before their flight at the airport. Daisy and Lincoln, however, arranged for her to be late, so they can greet each other in the cringiest way possible.

Exactly as they planned, she makes it just-just in time for the meetup. She drops everything and runs into Lincoln’s arms, and he picks her up and literally swings her around. 

“Oh, babe, I’m so glad I made it,” she says breathily when he puts her down, dramatically flinging her arms around his neck.

“I thought I was snickerdoodle,” he murmurs into her hair.

“I wanted to give Jemma a break,” she explains, resting her forehead against his so it looks like they’re Having A Moment.

“Fair enough,” he concedes, stepping away and going to pick up her bags. 

“Oh, you didn’t have to!” she cries in her most girlish, ridiculous voice, rushing to his side and giving him the most sappy, stupid smile she can call up. Oh, hell yes, she’s going to milk this cringey girlfriend thing for all it’s worth. 

Lincoln rolls his eyes, but plays along. “Of course I did, honeypie,” he says, reaching for her hand and returning the heart eyes.

Daisy has to muffle her laughter in his shoulder when she sees Ward flashing them an annoyed look.

But Ward hasn’t seen anything yet. Plan Cringe is only just in its starting phases.

They sit next to each other on the plane, and Daisy makes a big show of getting out her dual headphone adaptor so they can watch movies together. (She also makes sure they pick out the cringiest rom-com available, and coo over it together in the most obnoxious way imaginable.)

When they’ve finished three movies like that (Daisy can see Jemma wincing from the aisle in front of them, and honestly it just makes the whole thing better) she lifts the armrest between their seats and rests her head against his shoulder. He spreads his crappy plane blanket over them both, and Daisy falls asleep in seconds. 

But before anyone gets any ideas - looking at you, Jemma, and you, Hunter - this doesn’t mean anything’s changed between them. It just means they’re good friends, and comfortable with each other, despite this crazy prank they’re pulling. 

The next morning, they land in Greece - and oh my God, all her friends were right. Daisy has been stuck in front of a computer for too long, and she has been missing out. This place is absolutely breathtaking. 

And absolutely perfect for cringey couples selfies.

 Seriously, they couldn’t ask for a better backdrop - Albuquerque-style white buildings with bright blue roofs, bright pink bougainvillea flowers, and the teal-blue Aegean on the horizon. 

They get a few really good ones - like that time when they climbed all the way to one of the buildings on the very top of the mountain. Hunter, who had a surprising eye for it, posed them, having Daisy wrap her arms around Lincoln’s neck and him pick her up and look adoringly up at her. The result is every bit as nauseatingly lovey-dovey as she could have hoped. 

(Daisy’s pretty sure Ward excused himself to go throw up.) 

So all in all, it’s been a great day.

Then they get to the hotel. 

"Here's your key," the receptionist lady tells them pleasantly. Then, because she's some poor, misguided soul who just wants to be nice, she adds with a wink, "the honeymoon suite is the best, I'm sure you two will make good use of the bed." 

Daisy almost chokes on her welcome lemonade. “Honeymoon suite?” she splutters.  

"Of course!" the reception lady says, mistaking her horrified shock for the delighted kind. “Only the best for our guests from Shield.”

Daisy takes their key, feeling as though her cheeks have actually lit on fire. This was not the plan!

“Have fun!” the haplessly oblivious receptionist calls after them, obviously thinking they’re one of those new couples who are still adorably shy around each other. “I’m sure you’ll make some unforgettable memories here in Santorini.” 

Lincoln follows her into the elevator, and neither of them can look each other in the eye. 

That only gets worse when they see their room.

Oh, dear God, the receptionist lady wasn’t kidding. This is a honeymoon suite and a half! Rose petals, candles, soft mood music - you name it, this room has it. 

“Okay, seriously?” Daisy asks, picking up a heart-shaped chocolate. It’s a bit of a desperate attempt to lessen the awkwardness of the situation, but Lincoln catches on gratefully.

“That’s taking it a bit too far,” he agrees, taking the chocolate from her and studying her. 

Dear heavens, it actually says To your true love on it.

“So, um,” he asks, very deliberately looking at the chocolate and not at her, “how are we going to do this?” 

“Well, I’d suggest just taking the wrapping paper off before you eat it,” she says.

Lincoln gives her an unimpressed look. “Not what I meant.” 

“I know,” she says, scooping up some of the rose petals and scattering them on the floor. “Well, uh. So. Obviously, this is awkward.” 

He mutters something that sounds like “yeah, no kidding.” 

“But,” she soldiers on, “we’re both adults, right? And we’re both capable of basic maths?” 

He nods slowly, clearly not sure where she's going with this.

“Well, then,” she explains. “You stay on the left half of the bed, I’ll stay on the right.” 

Something indefinable - a mix of relief and regret, maybe - flits across his face, but it’s gone before she can be sure. “That sounds fine,” he says.

 It’s a little awkward as they change, definitely definitely not looking at each other (okay, fine, it’s a lot awkward. But, seriously, what was she expecting?) 

Then they have to turn the lights off. 

There’s just no way this can not be awkward. They’re sharing a bed, for God’s sake! And no matter how much Daisy can go on about maths and being adults, she knows she’s a snuggler and she’s 99% sure they’re going to end up spooning at some point.

So she takes a deep breath, steels herself, and says it. “If I… come lie next to you, um, can we pretend it never happened in the morning?” 

She feels rather than hears Lincoln exhale in the dark. “Okay,” he agrees quietly. 

She shifts over to his side of the bed, settling until she’s found a comfortable spot (conveniently with her head pillowed on Lincoln’s shoulder.)

Now, Daisy has always had trouble falling asleep - the consequences of bouncing from foster home to foster home, where any night might be her last there. 

But tonight, with Lincoln’s one arm thrown around her waist, she falls asleep in seconds.

The next day, when they go down to breakfast together, there’s a genuine fondness in the way Daisy laces her fingers with his. There aren’t many people who would pretend to date you and spend the night snuggled up with you without giving you any issues about it.

That fond feeling stays with her for the rest of the day, and she finds herself secretly quite enjoying all the cringey couple-y things they do together. Sharing ice-cream? Awesome. Bumping shoulders as they walk? Great. Pressing a kiss against his cheek in their latest Santorini-selfie? Sure, why not! They’re friends, and she really appreciates him, so it’s only natural that she wants to show it, right?

The next day passes in much the same way, and the next - sunshine and happiness, ice-cream and laughter, white beaches and blue waves and smiles that she doesn’t have to fake at all. 

Then comes the double whammy: the Santorini Annual Summer Ball.

It’s only the most romantic night ever, and it’s pretty much tradition for couples to kiss after every dance.

Daisy tells herself she’ll talk to Lincoln about it as soon as they get to their room that night. 

Only… she wasn’t expecting how different the room would feel, knowing what she’s supposed to talk to him about. 

Kissing. 

They’ve done a lot in this faux relationship, but never that. Sure, she’ll kiss his cheek, and he’ll kiss her forehead, but they’ve never actually, you know, made out.

And they’re going to have to tomorrow, otherwise there’s no way Ward’s going to believe they’re a couple. With how stupidly romantic and clingy they’ve been acting, they basically have to kiss at this dance. 

Which brings her back to this damned room, with its rose petals and candles and bloody romantic atmosphere. 

“Daisy, are you okay?” Lincoln asks when he comes out of the bathroom, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

She swallows as she sees him - the soft blue of the sweatshirt he sleeps in really brings out the colour of his eyes, and the way his damp hair sticks up is oddly adorable.

“I’m fine,” she manages to say. “Just… we need to talk about the dance tomorrow.” 

Lincoln freezes with his towel halfway up to his hair. “Ah.” 

“We have to kiss,” she tells him, trying to make it as matter-of-fact as possible but finding herself irritatingly breathless about it.

“Daisy, no, I don’t want to pressure you into anything -” he says immediately, but trails off when she steps forward and presses a finger against his lips.

“Shut up,” she tells him firmly. “If anything, I pressured you into this. I started the fake relationship, and it was my idea to be so clingy.” 

He gently shifts her hand away from his lips, keeping a hold of her wrist for a second longer than strictly necessary, and Daisy’s breath did not just catch. “I didn’t exactly complain,” he says wryly. 

“Well, that’s because you’re a good friend,” she says, and he gets that strange expression on his face again, like he’s trying to tell her something but can’t quite find the words. 

“Yeah,” he says at last, strangely reluctantly. “We’re friends. Good friends.”

She chooses to ignore the strange tone for now. “A good friend,” she says, “who I need to kiss right now.” 

“Now?” he asks, and surprised is a good look on him. His eyes flick inadvertently down to her lips, and she tries not to be too pleased about that.

“Yes, now,” she says, and dammit, her voice has gone all breathless. She clears her throat, forcing herself to remember why she’s doing this. “So we can be sure we’ll look alright when we kiss in front of everyone else. We’re a couple, we’re supposed to have kissed many times before. It needs to look natural.” 

“Good point,” Lincoln agrees, his eyes flicking down to her lips again.

Daisy shifts a step forward, just enough that she’s in his space. “So,” she says softly. 

“So?” he repeats, looking slightly amused as he copies her, closing the distance between them even more. 

Daisy’s breathing hitches again. This slow buildup, coupled with the romantic feel of their room, is doing really funny things to her heart. 

Breathless, tingly kind of funny things.

She can’t take it anymore and closes the last step of distance between them, bracing her palm against his chest as she stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

He kisses her back immediately, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as she leans into him. 

It’s soft and slow and romantic and really, really good.

After a minute, Daisy pulls away reluctantly, her lips tingling. “I can… work with that,” she manages, only she’s looking at his lips instead of at him. She clears her throat and steps away.

Lincoln looks about as wrecked as she feels. “Yeah,” he says softly, touching one hand lightly against his lips. 

Daisy swallows as her own lips tingle slightly in response. She ducks her gaze away, sure she must be blushing like crazy. 

“So, um,” she says, and her voice is a lot less steady than she’d like, “shall we go to bed?” 

Lincoln’s gaze is far too soft as he looks at her - she thinks she might melt. After a second that seems to stretch out into eternity, he shakes himself and gives her a small smile. “Of course.” 

That night, she struggles to fall asleep. Memories of their kiss keep playing in her mind, and it doesn’t help that she’s resting her head against Lincoln’s chest, surrounded by the comforting smell of him. 

She keeps telling herself to stop thinking about it, that it didn’t mean anything, that it was just to keep up the charade. 

But when morning rolls around and she still hasn’t slept any (but has managed to come up with more and more ridiculous theories for why she’s feeling this way, including, bizarrely, an invasion of blue-skinned aliens) she’s forced to conclude that she feels this way because she loves him.

Not even likes him - loves him. It’s the only explanation for the warm, glowing feeling she gets when he brings her her ridiculously complicated coffee order, or when he casually slings an arm around her shoulders when they’re joking with their friends.

She tried to tell herself that it was just fakery for Ward’s benefit - and while that might be true for him, it’s not true for her anymore.

Every cheesy couple thing they did together? She wants to keep doing it. Every time they bump shoulders or share ice-cream or splash each other with blue sea-water? She wants to keep doing it. Every time they kiss each other on the cheek? She wants to keep doing it!

And above all, she really, really wants to kiss him again, the way they kissed last night.

Shit. 

Lincoln’s still asleep next to her, and Daisy panics as she looks down at him. Shit, shit, shit. Oh, this is so bad. How did it get so bad? 

There are literally a thousand reasons why this would never work out, first and foremost being that he probably doesn’t feel the same way - he’s her friend! He confirmed that last night, right when he also confirmed that they were just doing this for the fakery.

Daisy doesn’t really know what she’s doing, just that she can’t be in the same room as him anymore. So she jumps out of bed and runs to find the person she knows will always be there for her in a crisis - Jemma. 

“Daisy!” Jemma exclaims, surprised, when Daisy bursts into her room still in her nightclothes and with her hair wild. “Uh, what…” 

“Jemma, I have a problem,” she announces, standing silhouetted in her friend’s door like she’s in some incredibly dramatic action shot in a movie (except for the fact that she looks like a mess.) “I’m in love with Lincoln.”

Fitz, sweet soul that he is, takes one look at Daisy and tactfully decides to make himself scarce. “I’m going to go… watch football… with Hunter,” he says, squeezing past her, and Daisy is too riled up to even bother herself about the lame excuse. Who watches football at seven in the morning, anyway?

“I think you need to come sit down,” Jemma tells her, pulling her firmly over to her and Fitz’s bed. “Tell me the whole story.”

Daisy hesitates, chewing her lip… and then it all comes spilling out. “Lincoln and I kissed last night,” she blurts. “We said it was just to make sure we’d look natural for the dance tomorrow - tonight - but it meant more than that for me. And, Jem -” she paused, hiding her head in her hands, “I’ve gotten myself into such a mess. I’ve fallen in love with my friend who’s only pretending to love me.”

Jemma is quiet for a few beats as she processes this information. Then, gently but firmly, she lifts Daisy’s head out of her hands. 

“Daisy,” she says, quiet but firm, “you are not in a mess.”

Daisy makes a sound that’s half a laugh and half a sob. “Haven’t you been listening to me? I love Lincoln, who’s only pretending to love me back.”

“Pretending… because you asked him to,” Jemma reminds her. “Now, why do you think he did that?”

“Because he’s a good friend?” Daisy replies, not sure where Jemma is going with this.

Jemma rolls her eyes. “Well, yes, there’s certainly that. But, Daisy, d’you think he’d agree to be my fake boyfriend if I asked him?”

“Why would you ask him?” Daisy asked, more confused than ever now. “You have Fitz!”

Jemma throws up her hands. “You’re completely missing the point here! Daisy, you oblivious, wonderful idiot, the reason Lincoln agreed to this whole fake relationship thing is because he loves you too.”

Daisy shakes her head. “No, he doesn’t, he can’t, why would he -”

“Why wouldn’t he?!?” Jemma practically yells. “Have you even met yourself? You are literally one of the most amazing people on the planet.”

That shuts Daisy up. “Really?” she asks weakly.

Jemma shakes her head, disbelieving. “Really, Daisy,” she says firmly. “Are you kidding me? Who wouldn’t be in love with you?”

“I don’t know, Ward?” Daisy says, half-desperately gesturing with her hands.

Understanding dawns in Jemma’s eyes. “Oh. Oh.”

And then, “Daisy.”

“What?” Daisy asks, not liking the sympathetic expression on Jemma’s face one bit.

Jemma sighs. “Just because Ward was an absolute dick to you doesn’t mean Lincoln will be. You can let yourself trust that he loves you too, you know.”

Daisy’s surprise at the word dick coming out of Jemma’s mouth is seconded only by her surprise of what Jemma is actually saying. Of course she wasn’t being distrustful because of what Ward did to her… was she?

“Daisy, you are not unlovable or any such total rubbish,” Jemma says, and her British accent somehow makes the word rubbish sound so much better. “Ward not loving you right had absolutely nothing to do with you.”

And Daisy… believes her.

Jemma obviously sees the acceptance in Daisy’s eyes, because she presses on, “and while we’re at it - I don’t think either of you were pretending this last week.”

Daisy splutters - “what?? Of course we were pretending, don’t be…” 

But then she trails off as she remembers thinking how she secretly enjoyed doing the couple-y nonsense, and how after just a day she wasn’t faking a single one of her smiles.

She snaps her mouth shut. “Well,” she says. And blinks. “You really think Lincoln loves me too?”

If looks could kill, Daisy would be stone dead - of pure and unadulterated exasperation. “Yes, Daisy,” Jemma says in that tone that implies that even the patience of saints can be tested. “He loves you too. There is literally no doubt. Ask anyone.” 

Hunter chooses that moment to pipe up, “yeah, no, you two are definitely in love.”

Daisy’s jaw drops as she realises that her friends have all gathered in the doorway. “How long have you guys been there???”

“Just long enough to hear that last sentence,” Mack says reassuringly. He raises his eyebrows at her. “But it’s true, you know. You two are nauseatingly in love.”

If there had been any doubt in her mind, well, it’s gone now. Her friends are some of the most intelligent people in the world - they can’t all be wrong.

And they all think Lincoln loves her, so…

“What do I do?” she asks.

It’s Bobbi who replies. “Well, no offence,” she says, looking Daisy up and down, “but you look like shit.”

“Get some sleep,” Elena chimes in. 

“We’ll make up some excuse for Lincoln,” Fitz promises.

“And tonight,” Jemma says, taking her hands, “you blow us all away.”

All their supportive wonderfulness (and the fact that she is functioning on zero sleep) is too much for her emotional state. “Thanks, guys,” she says, and to her total embarrassment, she starts to cry.

Jemma just hugs her, though, and within minutes Daisy is fast asleep. She really was exhausted.

The good thing is, her friends let her sleep as long as possible.

The bad thing is, her friends let her sleep as long as possible.

As in, she now has five minutes to get ready for the dance.

Luckily, Jemma, Bobbi and Elena are really good at splitting up tasks - Elena somehow manages to transform her hair into soft, silky curls that beautifully frame her face, Bobbi does her makeup like a pro, and Jemma helps her get changed into a floaty, summery blue dress that looks stunning on her, if she says so herself.

But even with all their best efforts, she’s fifteen minutes late to the dance.

It’s held on the beach, under the light of the moon and stars (and some fairy lights in the trees, but shhh.) It takes her a moment to spot Lincoln, but eventually she finds him, standing on the far side of the beach and looking worriedly through the crowd.

When he spots her, his face relaxes into a smile that’s so perfectly and effortlessly happy that Daisy can’t help but smile back.

And she thinks, you know, they were all right. 

She walks slowly across the beach to him, and cliché as it is, she really does feel like Cinderella (minus the glass slippers, of course, because glass slippers plus sand? Can you imagine?) 

When she reaches him, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to step right into his embrace. “Dance with me,” she says, offering him a dazzling smile.

He settles his hand at her waist, clasping the other one in hers, and oh, it’s so perfect she wants to explode into a cloud of rainbows and sparkles.

 When the song ends, she doesn’t think twice about leaning up and kissing him.

It’s only when he tenses, just slightly, that she remembers. She hasn’t actually told him yet!

He pulls away from the kiss, looking conflicted. “I need you to know,” he begins, “those last few days… they weren’t fake for me. And I’m sorry if I’ve ruined our friendship, but not seeing you for the whole day today made me realise it would tear me apart if I lost you. Daisy, I,” he stops, swallows, and says it, “I love you.”

Daisy bites her lip, but she couldn’t stop the smile that spreads across her face even if she had tried. “I love you, too,” she tells him.

He’s smiling, laughing even, happy and disbelieving, “Really?”

And she’s laughing too, “yes, of course, yes!”

Then they’re kissing again, and there’s nothing fake about it for a second. 

And as for Ward? Well, Ward can go fuck himself.

Even though they do, technically, have him to thank for this.

Daisy shudders. Ugh. Imagine being grateful to Ward!

She’d really rather not think about it.

So she kisses Lincoln again.

A song begins to play in the background, soft and slow and sweet, and Daisy smiles against his lips as she recognises it. Perfect, by Ed Sheeran. 

Well, she thinks, isn’t that just perfect. 

And that Grecian night on the beach, the soft glow of the moon turning the waves silver, and the scents of the bougainvillea flowers sweet on the breeze, really is the closest thing to perfect that Daisy has ever experienced.

The End.

[chapter-61]

the reunion

CARRY ON COUNTDOWN DAY 14: Favorite Trope/Cliche

AO3, AU

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

I can, actually. Simon Snow can make me do anything just by asking. I’m weak.

“Don’t be dramatic,” the man in question tells me. “We’ll be fine.”

“You’re not the one who’s going to have to pretend to be dating you,” I say, because snark is my default state around Simon. This night is going to be horrible.

“It’s not too late to back out, I can always call Penny,” Simon says, as if he hadn’t asked her first. She said no, of course, so Simon had to come to me. That’s what I am, a last resort.

“We’re almost there, Snow. We might as well, now.” In fact, we’ve only got one intersection left, and then we’re at the location.

“Turn right here,” he points.

“I know.”

He rolls his eyes and I grin at the windshield. Annoying Simon is my specialty, after all. However, I might have to turn it down a notch for tonight.

“Try to be nice, alright? Or else this isn’t going to work.”

“I’m a fantastic actor,” I say as I parallel park the car perfectly. I’m not lying, I am a good actor. I’ve been friends with Simon for five years now, and he still hasn’t noticed my massive crush on him. We were roommates in college, and from the first moment I saw him, I was smitten. Then, he had to be the nicest guy possible, always helping me with projects and staying up late to spell-check my essays, and the rest is history.

Him not figuring it out might also have to do with his utter obliviousness, of course, because I’m quite sure that Penny has known for a while. He was probably distracted by Agatha, as well. But we don’t think about Agatha.

I turn off the car and wrestle myself out. I’m a bit too tall for my car, but I really like the model. Plus, driving around London with a big car is a nightmare, so I’ll keep my small one, thank you very much.

I shake my head to make my hair look elegantly messy and adjust my suit slightly while I move to the sidewalk, where Simon is waiting. He’s not looking too bad, his curls slightly more tamed than usual and wearing a gorgeous blue suit that matches his eyes. He’s a sight for sore eyes, alright. And I get to be his pretend boyfriend for the night. Terrific.

Simon exhales a laugh when I’ve reached him, and he’s looking at my suit. I feel slightly offended. It might be a bit overkill, but I know I look amazing in my flowered suit. I lift an eyebrow, daring him to say something, but he wisely stays quiet.

As we’re walking to the building he pointed out earlier, I say, “Remind me why I’m here again?”

“Baz, I’ve told you.”

“I want to laugh at you again,” I tell him. No other ulterior motives, of course.

He looks at me sideways and huffs. “We’re going to my school reunion. I wasn’t planning to go, but one of the bullies from back then baited me and now I can’t not show up.”

I nod along. “Of course. And?”

He sighs extensively, but continues. “I told him I’d bring my partner, but he didn’t believe me. Because who would want to date me, right?”

I tactfully keep my mouth shut.

“And then I asked Agatha and initially she said yes, but then, you know. We broke up. And now you’re here.”

“Because you asked me to be your pretend boyfriend.”

He groans and I laugh as if being his boyfriend is such a laughably idea.

“We’re here,” Simon says as we arrive at a wide building with glass doors. There’s a lot of people inside. Suddenly this seems like a bad idea.

“Wait,” I grab his arm (hello, biceps) and pull him back a little, so we don’t keep people from entering.

He looks at me questioningly, and then looks down at his arm where I’m still holding it. Oops. We’re not even inside yet and this night is already going great. I pull my hand back like I touched a stove (same thing, really) and clear my throat.

“What’s our story?”

“Huh?” He frowns. “Oh, right, we’re dating.”

I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make my heart flutter. Pathetic.

He says, “Can’t we use our story but with a few tweaks? Roommates in college, now we’re dating.”

“Romantic,” I remark, trying to extinguish my gay panic. Why did I agree to this?

Simon laughs. Oh yes, that’s why. “We’ll improvise, come on.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me to the doors. As we enter, I keep my eyes entirely on the people around me and the decorations, ignoring the burning feeling of Simon’s hand in mine.

We walk past a group of people, most of them our age. I can feel a lot of eyes on us, although I’m not sure if it’s because we’re two men holding hands or because I’m wearing this ridiculous suit. I flash them a nervous smile, finding myself incapable of anything else. The Baz from this morning would kick my arse for not looking intimidating, but he’s not in this situation.

Simon has finally stopped pulling me along. It appears we stopped at the food tables. Predictably.

“Are we going to hide here, forever?” Please say yes.

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “I just wanted to get a vantage point of the room.”

“And a snack,” I say, because I can see straight through his bullshit.

“And a snack,” he admits. He releases my hand in favour of a scone on the table. I glare at it.

Simon takes a bite and notices me looking. “What?” He says, mouth full. I shouldn’t find it so endearing.

Before I can reply, we’re joined by two women. “Oh my god,” one of them says. “Simon Snow?”

He manages to swallow his scone and smiles pleasantly at them. I can’t wait to see how this turns out. “Hi,” he says. “Uh...”

I snort. He clearly forgot who these women are. I decide to save him. “Good evening, girls. I’m Baz. Simon’s boyfriend,” I add, because I can. If only for one night.

Next to me, Simon chokes on his scone. For someone who loves food, he’s really bad at eating.

“Nice to meet you, Baz,” the first woman says to me. “I’m Anastasia, this is Nadine. We were in Simon’s class.”

“Right!” Simon has recovered. “Sorry, you just look really different.”

Anastasia laughs. “I’d hope so! You’ve changed a lot, too.”

Do I sense a hint of flirtation there? I will not stand for this. “I love your dress, Nadine. Did you make it yourself?”

“I did!” Nadine confirms. It was a fairly easy guess, considering how terrible it looks. It’s grey, boring, and hangs off her body without accentuating any shapes. I’m not saying I would be able to make a better dress, but I could.

“So, Simon,” Anastasia starts. I almost roll my eyes. This lady. “What do you do now? I always imagined you as a hero of some sort, like a fireman or a doctor.”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher, actually.” Simon says with pride. It makes me smile. He’s always crazy proud of those kids, constantly texting me about them and sending me pictures of drawings they made. He’ll be a great father someday.

I realise I’ve stopped listening to the conversation and I’ve been staring at Simon with a lovesick smile on my face for a few seconds and school my expression.

I’m pretty sure Nadine noticed but she doesn’t say anything, she just looks amused. Anastasia has come closer and is now within touching distance of Simon. Alarms are going off in my head but I keep still. I’m not his actual boyfriend, I shouldn’t care.

Then Anastasia laughs exaggeratedly and puts her hand on Simon’s chest, and I’m moving. I’ve grabbed his hand in a second and I tell the women, “We’re going to snog now,” while pulling Simon with me to an empty corner of the room.

Simon looks perplexed when I finally let go. I may have overreacted. “What are you doing?” He asks.

“What am I doing? What are you doing? That woman was clearly flirting with you!” I try not to sound too affected.

“Huh?” He says intelligently.

“I’m pretending to be your boyfriend,” I tell him, “you can’t go around letting people flirt with you while I’m standing right there!”

Simon frowns. “She wasn’t flirting with me.”

“God, Snow. You wouldn’t recognize someone having a crush on you if they were right in front of you.”

That hit a bit too close to home. I need alcohol. Thankfully, a waiter passes by us, and I grab a glass of champagne. I chug it in one go. It makes me feel slightly better about this evening.

Simon hasn’t said a word. He’s rubbing his neck and looking around.

“Seen him yet?” I ask.

“Hm? Who?”

“The bully. The reason we’re here.” I feel like I shouldn’t be reminding him of this, when he’s been so focused on this event the last few days.

“Oh. No, I haven’t seen him yet.”

I lean back against the wall and pull my leg up at an angle. “Next you’ll tell me you just wanted a reason to take me here.”

“Ha ha,” he says, still looking around. “Funny.”

“I try.”

It seems like most people have arrived. I take my phone out of my jacket and look at the time. Half past nine. Everyone should be here by now, unless they’re fashionably late.

Simon has settled on the wall next to me. I lean toward him. “Hey. How long are we staying?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know, we’ll see.”

I accept another glass of champagne. Simon hasn’t touched anything except for that one scone.

“D’you want another scone?” I ask him.

“Huh?”

God, what’s wrong with him? Somewhere between the women and now, something’s changed.

“Are you hungry? You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.”

“I’m fine,” he says, not very convincing because he’s still staring in front of him.

I shuffle closer and hit him with my shoulder. I don’t know why. I keep it there, so our shoulders and arms are touching. It feels nice. I feel warm inside, but that might be the alcohol.

I can see someone coming over, so I reach out and grab Simon’s hand. I can feel him jump slightly, but he doesn’t react otherwise. It’s a man, relatively attractive, that goes straight for Simon.

“Simon! It’s been a long time, mate!”

Simon’s face lights up and he pulls away to shake the man’s hand. “Michael! I didn’t know you were coming.”

The man, Michael, shrugs. “Danielle talked me into it. What about you? I thought you said you couldn’t make it?”

I raise an eyebrow. Interesting. Simon laughs, but it sounds more like a nervous laugh. I’m not sure what’s going on. He makes a gesture at me. “Baz talked me into it as well.”

Michael turns to me. Like I said, relatively attractive. Next to Simon, he’s much less handsome. He looks at me curiously. “Baz, huh?”

“That’s me,” I smile. I’m using my empty glass as an excuse not to shake his hand.

“You’re, uhm… Together?”

“Yes,” I say. I’m his terrible boyfriend that he doesn’t even want to talk to.

“Really?” Michael sounds surprised as he turns back to Simon. The latter seems embarrassed for some reason. I’m not following.

“Since college,” I add.

“Interesting.”

Okay, what is happening? Everyone is suddenly incredibly reserved. I’m beginning to think there was something in my drink.

“Say, Michael,” I start. “You wouldn’t happen to know a bully from your school that would be here, would you?”

“A bully?” He turns to Simon again. “Who’s he talking about?”

“We’re only here for him,” I continue, “then we can go home, right Simon?”

He nods slowly, but he’s exchanging looks with Michael and I don’t like it.

“Oh, there you are!” A woman, presumably Danielle, joins us. “Honey, who are these handsome men?”

I’d feel flattered if I weren’t so confused.

Michael puts his arm around Danielle’s waist and gestures to Simon and I. “It’s Simon. I’ve told you about him.”

“Oh, Simon Snow! Nice to finally meet you,” she smiles at him warmly. I like her much more than Anastasia already.

“Hi, Danielle.” He looks like he’d rather jump out of a window than continue this conversation, and I can’t begin to wonder why. I’m quite certain Danielle is not the bully Simon was talking about, because he’d been using he/him pronouns.

I step forward so I’m next to my pretend boyfriend, and raise my glass at Danielle. “Hello, I’m Baz, Simon’s boyfriend.”

“Baz! I’ve heard so much about you! Wait.” She looks between us. I can hear Simon sigh next to me. “Boyfriend?”

“Uhm,” Simon says.

I copy Michael and put my arm around Simon’s waist. I feel him stiffen. We probably should’ve practiced this before tonight, but I didn’t think Simon would indulge me.

“Yes,” I say, because Simon is quiet.

Danielle looks delighted. “Oh, wow! Finally! Congratulations. Michael told me a lot about you two and I’m glad you finally worked it out.”

Michael and Simon both suddenly look very uncomfortable.

“It’s not...” Simon starts.

Danielle talks right over him. “How many times I’ve had to listen to Michael’s rants about Simon, concerning you! And then when he started dating that Agatha, he was very frustrated with him,” she tells me. I’m having trouble keeping track of what she’s saying.

“Danielle--” Michael starts.

“Oh Simon,” she keeps going, facing Simon now. “I told Michael it’d work out! I knew that if you just told him--”

“Okay!” Michael practically shouts, dragging Danielle away. “We’re going to get some food. I’ll see you later, Simon.”

“What?” I hear Danielle say while she’s being dragged away.

I am utterly lost. “What the hell is going on?” I demand.

“Fuck,” Simon replies.

“Simon?”

He’s leaning against the wall again and slowly sliding down to the floor. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s definitely something,” I say. “Wait here.”

I walk towards the table with drinks and drink some water, evading eye contact with the people around me. I’m not in the mood.

When I feel significantly less tipsy, I go back to Simon. He’s sitting on the floor now, with his hands in his hair.

“Simon,” I repeat. “What’s going on? What was she talking about?”

I join him on the floor and poke his leg.

“Can we just pretend this never happened?” He mumbles.

“Absolutely not.”

Simon huffs. “That’s what I thought.”

“Answer me.”

“I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, you’re smart.”

My head is reeling and I’m glad I’m sitting down. “Pretend I’m still drunk and explain it to me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Simon.”

“Baz.”

I reach out for his hands and gently take them from his head. I hold them between us and squeeze once. “Simon,” I repeat, quieter.

He sighs and lifts his head. He looks at me with a painful grimace, and then looks down at our hands. “I’ve been talking to Michael a lot over the past months,” he starts. “And after a while he noticed how much I mentioned you, even while I was still dating Agatha.”

My heart is beating so fast, I think I might faint.

“And he made me realise some things, I guess.”

“You guess?” I can’t help but interrupt.

“Yes, you twit. I realised something, and it was incredibly scary. Because I was still dating Agatha, you see? So I told her, and we broke up.”

“You weren’t that sad about it,” I’m starting to understand.

“Not really. We separated as friends. I told Penny, and she told me to take you here with me.”

“So there’s no bully? Why?”

“I just… Wanted to test it.”

“Wanted to test what?” I ask. I feel close to bursting.

Simon laughs slightly. “Test this.” He shakes our clasped hands. “Us.”

“Huh.” My soul has left my body at the moment.

“I was sure you didn’t feel the same way, but then you’ve been saying some things today, and now you’re being weird, so...”

“Simon.”

“You’ve been calling me Simon a lot this evening.”

“Simon.”

“Yes, Baz?”

“Say it.”

“Say what?” Now he’s just teasing me.

“You know what I mean.”

He smiles at me and I’m about to combust.

Then, on the tile floor of this random building, hired for a special event that Simon dragged me to under false pretenses, he says:

“I’m in love with you.”

My head was spinning but now everything is bright and clear and I laugh happily. “You’re terrible.”

He looks amused. “What?”

“I’ve been in love with you for five years, you incredible nightmare.”

His mouth falls open. “Really? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I didn’t think you felt the same way!”

“I think I’ve always been a little bit in love with you, it’s just gotten a lot stronger this year.”

“Well.” I say. I can’t believe this is happening.

Simon grins at me. Because he’s in love with me. Simon Snow is in love with me! “Well,” he says. And then, he leans forward.

And then, on this tile floor, he kisses me.

[allie1804-fan]

New Beginnings (Chapter 6)

1  2 3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12

New Beginnings Baby Drabble

New Beginnings Baby Drabble No2

Warnings: Smut, explicit, mentions of childbirth and babyloss

Back in LA, May arrived and Emily agreed with her agent to take on a new project. She was trying very hard to re-balance her focus, doing more exercise and reconnecting with friends including Chloe who was now 8 months along in her pregnancy. She and Keanu started the counselling sessions which included some sessions together and some alone. Being able to voice their hopes and fears together helped and airing darker thoughts separately made it less daunting for them both to open up.

Keanu agreed to try to stop smoking or at the very least cut right back and they both agreed to reduce their drinking. Emily also put away the charts, thermometer and ovulation tests. Counselling had let her see these as part of becoming obsessed with getting pregnant and she had shared her fears about that meaning she wasn’t able to be a good partner to Keanu.

At the same time, they also focused more on having some little pleasures to look forward to in between work and whilst they weren’t going to stop trying, they hoped to put it more in the background while they enjoyed themselves on day trips or weekends away.  A key thing they had also both agreed on was that sex needed to be about making love not just making a baby.

Some of the weight of worry was off their shoulders and Emily smiled as she packed a bag ready for a long weekend up in Sonoma county at the Lambert Ridge Winery. 

Keanu had been there on an Arch owners trip and said it was just the get-away they needed. Yes it was a winery but they weren’t being teetotal so a weekend away there was allowed! She remembered her conversation with Chloe about tricking the fates into allowing her to get pregnant – maybe this trip would work the same way for them as the Hotel George V had for Chloe and John.

The trip has been wonderful. There was a wonderful tasting and education session where they hung out with a tutor and a group of other patrons tasting different wines and learning how to identify different scents and flavours. There was good food, walks in the woods and some mind blowing sex on their last day. They’d basically spent the entire morning on one session, Emily lost count of the orgasms she had from his hands and tongue before he finally fucked her until she had what felt like an out of body experience as she came, his cock filling her and his thumb pulsing on her clit. The sensation was an all encompassing thrill as she watched him let go too. Afterwards was almost as good as they just lay under the breeze from the ceiling fan, their fingers drawing lazy circles on each other’s cooling skin as they recovered.

“Never stop doing this part” she said softly

“Never” he agreed kissing her gently.

June came around and Emily was on edge every day waiting to hear from Chloe as she and Keanu would be looking after Jamie when time came for her delivery. The call came on 6th at 11pm, and they hurried over to Chloe and John’s having agreed it would be easier on Jamie to stay in his own home while they were gone. The labour went right through the day of 7th with slow progress for Chloe. She’d had a C-section for Jamie and was hoping she might be able to deliver naturally this time but it wasn’t to be this time either and she had another section on the morning of 8th delivering a girl they named Rosie. Keanu and Emily were finally able to hand over to John that evening returning home with some take out Chinese to enjoy.

As they lay back on the sofa watching TV, Emily was scrolling through her calendar on her phone when she gasped.

“what?”

“I’m late!” she said

“late?”

She nodded vigorously, “late for my period, at least a week” I haven’t been focused on it what with Chloe’s baby arriving”

“Oh my god, do you have a test here?”

Emily gulped and nodded, going a bit pale.

“well come on, let’s see, Emily this might be what we’ve been waiting for!”

They went to the bathroom and found the test in the cabinet. She sat on the toilet to pee on the stick then set it down face down and Keanu set a timer on his phone, sitting on the edge of the bath while they waited.

The tension was palpable as they waited in silence and they both jumped when the alarm went off.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, picking up the stick and turning it over to reveal two faint blue lines.

“Oh my god, it’s positive – it’s kind of faint though don’t you think?”

“I’ve never seen one before in real life” he said

She giggled

“Me neither, I probably don’t know what I’m talking about!”

“Em, Em we did it, we’re going to have a baby!” he practically shouted, throwing his arms around her. Tears of relief were falling when Emily pulled back to look at him.

“yes we are!”

The next week passed in a daze. Emily made an appointment to see her OBGYN and Keanu seemed to be on cloud 9 as well as super concerned that she was OK. Truth be told Emily didn’t feel well but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. It wasn’t morning sickness but she just didn’t feel well in herself.

On 15th, Keanu had a script read through in the morning and he left her sleeping in bed. When she woke up she was burning up and confirmed quickly that she was running a temperature. She was unsure what to do, not wanting to take any medication given the pregnancy. She went to the bathroom thinking a cool shower might help. To her horror, when she went to pee, she saw she had some spotting. It was only light and she tried to stay calm but she had a sinking feeling that all wasn’t well.

By lunchtime she’d started to get abdominal pain and a pain in her shoulder. By the time Keanu returned she was bent over the sofa in pain.  He took one look at her, his heart thumping a mile a minute and sprung into action to take her straight to hospital.

In the ER they said the symptoms suggested an ectopic pregnancy where the egg gets stuck in the fallopian tube, not making it to the womb and causes extreme pain. This was soon confirmed when the obstetrics specialist arrived to do a scan. Emily was rushed to surgery to remove the baby in the course of which she lost her left fallopian tube.

Keanu was left reeling. They showed him to a private room where he could wait and he called his sister for moral support. Karina came straight there and sat with him until Emily came out of surgery and was moved to a private room.

Keanu sat and held her hand until she came round but she was still very woozy. Not so much that she didn’t know what had happened and she kept saying how sorry she was  as the tears flowed for both of them.

The next morning, their doctor came to see them and explained what had happened and what it meant for the future. Their chances were significantly reduced though not by half. Still if it had taken a year to get pregnant with 2 tubes Emily didn’t want to think about how long it might take to achieve another pregnancy.

As they both shed quiet tears,  Keanu felt helpless  - like all he could do was hold her hand, part of him wishing he’d never asked her if she wanted to go for it after that day at the party.

Back home after she was released from hospital, he tucked her into bed and they lay holding each other,  crying until their tears ran dry.

The next morning over breakfast Emily had made a decision.

‘let’s stop, please let’s just stop and go back to how we were, I can’t take it anymore’

‘you wanna go on birth control again?’

‘’yeah, at least for now, I’m too scared of the same thing happening again”

“Ok” he said quiet and sad “OK”

1  2 3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12

New Beginnings Baby Drabble

New Beginnings Baby Drabble No2

[always5hineee]

The Final Bell- Chapter 8: A Temporary Solution

Chapter warnings: Mild language and violence

Word Count: 1561

Story is also available under Taffysamg on Quotev and Wattpad.

To see the full chapter list, go to the “Final Bell” Tab on my page.

-----

       "Mark, hand me that tube."

       "The white one or the blue one?"

       "Blue. And a lighter as well." Jungwoo held Haechan's half-arm gently as he cleaned and disinfected it. He had already thrown Yuta out as he was so distraught, but he had Y/N, Mark, and Taeyong in the tent. Y/N and Taeyong were sitting atop him, making sure he didn't try and get up. The injured man was drunk off his ass and gagged. They didn't have anything to really knock him out with, so the best they could do is get him shitfaced and make sure he didn't hurt himself. He'd thank them later.

       Thankfully, he passed out as soon as Jungwoo had finished burning the wound and began stitching the gap. With the extra mobility, it didn't take long for the medic to bandage him up and grind a few painkillers into a glass of water. He managed to pour the majority of it into his mouth, forcing him to swallow.

       "He'll be fine." Jungwoo sighed, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. The intense focus had tired him out.

       "Fine." Taeyong repeated sadly. "What does fine even mean?"

       "He'll live, is what that means." Jungwoo amended. At what cost, though? He'd never get his arm back. He could potentially do something like Johnny had, but it wouldn't be nearly as functional as his original. Not only that, but could he fight with a bat one-handed? He was always so upbeat, even though it was different than Mark. What would this do to him? Y/N couldn't bear to think about it as she walked out of the medical tent, head down. The whole group was in a stir aside from Yuta. They had needed to set up camp to deal with the wound, so she went to her own tent, lost in thought.

       They had decided to stay for the next few days and let Haechan recover. The first day he woke up, he was silent. He was brought food into his tent only by Taeyong. He didn't want to see anyone, but most notably, asked Yuta to stay away. Yuta blamed himself for the accident, for not watching out for his friend. Worse, since Haechan didn't want to see him, he feared that Haechan blamed him as well.

       "I deserve it," he had stated, crying quietly. He obviously didn't want to seem so weak, wiping the salty mess off his face, but he couldn't help it. Y/N had sat beside him, trying to comfort him. She rubbed his shoulders as he leaned into his palms, shaking.

       "I'm sure Haechan doesn't blame you. He looks up to you, he doesn't want you to see him in a moment of failure." Yuta shook his head denyingly.

       The next day wasn't much better. Rather than silence, Haechan was all too loud. He wouldn't even let Taeyong in to bring him food. Every time someone tried, he'd hold the zipper shut and just yell at them until they left. No less than every single person in the camp tried to speak to him, but he was unreasonable. It was only when Yuta knelt at the front of his tent, still crying, that he said something coherent. He had mentioned that he would be fine in another three days.

       Y/N's first instinct was to go to Jungwoo. Thankfully, he was alone in the medical tent, no doubt working on his little project.

       "Hey, Jungwoo..." He nodded in greeting, not saying anything as he messed with a flask. "Just out of curiosity, if someone is bitten, how long does it take for them to turn?" She asked. He raised an eyebrow.

       "...Why do you want to know?"

       "Oh, uh, getting up close and personally with those zombies really got me thinking and I... I guess I was just curious." He looked a little bit suspicious, but he was too busy to get in detail with his thoughts.        

       "To start going crazy, or to completely become a zombie?"

       "Hmm... the second one."

       "Um, about five days, at least in our experience?" Interesting. She looked to a shelf behind him. There were tubes lined up in a tray, labeled 1-12. In front of them were a second set of vials, each with a piece of what she could only assume to be flesh inside. Most of them were purple- a disgusting, familiar purple. Three were different, though. One was a light pink, one was an unsettling green, and one... well, one just looked like normal, pure human. Double checking for his attention, she grabbed the vial above the clean sample- Test 7.

       "Alright, thanks Jungwoo!" She said, hastily rushing out of the tent. Concealing it in her pocket, she walked to the injured boy's tent.

       "Haechan!" She whispered urgently.

       "GET OUT!" He yelled, laughing afterwards. "Just get out."

       "Look, I'll leave, but hear me out-" she offered. "I know what's wrong- the infection's not gone, is it?" This was met with silence. Bingo. "Here's the deal- Jungwoo's been working on a cure, I think he might be onto something. We can save you, and no one has to know. You don't have to hurt anyone." Still silent. "Please, Haechan, just try it." Just when she was about to give up and walk away, there was a hasty zip. His eyes peeked out from inside.

       "Give it here."

       "Let me in, first." He looked reluctant, but finally backed up, allowing her entry. It was about as bad as she expected. His arm was purple up to his shoulder, and it was already starting to discolor his collarbone. She held out the vial, but didn't hand it over quite yet.

       "Listen. Jungwoo doesn't know I have this. It was the most successful sample. I can't guarantee what will happen if you-" Before she could finish, he grabbed it and drank it like a shot, then stuck his tongue out.

       "Ugh, gross. Would it kill him to flavor this?"

       "It's just a sample. A test. And that was insanely rash of you! What if-" As she said this, she looked to his shoulder. Already the purple was beginning to bubble and fade away.

       "Oh my God." He said, staring as well. "Oh my God! Y/N, you're a genius! I can't believe it!" He grabbed her shoulder with his good hand and pulled her in, kissing her on the lips. "I don't have to die!" He jumped up, getting caught in the structure of the tent. His balance still wasn't that great.

       "We have to tell Jungwoo!" She hadn't even objected when he rocketed out of the tent, leaving her in shock. She lightly touched a hand to her mouth, before realizing that he was long gone.

       "Wait up!"

       A few moments later, they were all seated together around the fire for yet another long, convoluted group meeting.

       "You used a test sample? On a human being?" Jungwoo asked angrily.

       "I'm sorry! But it saved Haechan, didn't it?" She countered.

       "You didn't tell us you were still infected?!" Taeyong demanded of the injured man.

       "And you didn't tell us we were making a cure!" Taeil pointed to Jungwoo. This was all going in quite loud, blaming circles.

       "Everyone, chill out!" Mark said, laughing. "Haechan's fine, we have this new cure-thingy, Y/N took a risk that paid off, it all worked out!" He finished, holding his arms out. "We're great! Now let's eat dinner, Haechan must be starving." Everything was dinner with these guys. Still, it proved to be an effective distraction. Someone caught her eye, though.

       "Hey... what's wrong?" She asked, walking up to Jaehyun. He was sitting by himself, barely picking at his food.

       "...It's not like you give a shit." He told her, turning away slightly.

       "I asked, didn't I?" He rolled his eyes.

       "Fine, but only because I want the satisfaction of proving you wrong." He prefaced. "I'm just angry because I warned you idiots that it was dangerous to keep going the way we were. And what do you do? You go and get Haechan practically killed."

       "At least he's not dead." She started, but he shook his head sadly.

       "How long until he is? Until he ends up like WinWin? Until we all end up like WinWin? And for what? A few cans of shitty Campbell's soup?"

       "I... got this?" She offered awkwardly, pulling out the mouse. It was only when she did so that she realized she hadn't changed clothes. Suddenly, the bloodstains were painstakingly apparent to her. He stared at it.

       "You've got to be kidding me." She clenched it in her palm.

       "I- sorry. That was dumb." Still, he grabbed it out of her hand, shoving it in his pocket. She stared at his hand for a second.

       "Get out of here." She nodded, walking back to the group. She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or being vulnerable, but it was at least something.

       This was clearly affecting everyone, but they'd get through it. Maybe Haechan would even get back on track. That transplant-arm fiasco may even be an option. She thought about looking for Johnny, but decided she'd do it in the morning. She went to go sit with the guys, who were already laughing with each other. It was all settling back to normal.

       Normal...

Go to Chapter 9

[paradisecost]

hc. erik // main timeline 

ALRIGHT this bad boy is just over 1700 words long but I urge you to read it if you’re at all interested in interacting with my Erik. He is extremely canon-divergent in that DoFP, XMA and DP did not happen. I used to be fine with both DoFP and XMA but the more I think about them the more I’m like “wow, those plots are fucking ridiculous” and I’ve chosen to uh, throw them out the damn window. DP on the other hand was just unabashedly horrific fcKJNFKDNF.

TW: Non-graphic mentions of the following: the Holocaust, kidnapping, child abuse, child death, burning alive, imprisonment and isolation, and murder. Ya boy’s been through HELL but these are just mentions, as in ‘this thing happened- moving on’.

Early life // v: doomed from the start

December 31st, 1929

Erik Magnus Lehnsherr is born, presumably somewhere in Poland, to Jewish German parents. His mother nicknames him ‘Max’ when he is very young, and his father and friends soon pick up on it too.

He befriends Magda Eisenhardt at school as a young boy. The two become close, but are separated during the war, long before Erik is taken by Schmidt. Each assumes the other to be dead.

September 1st, 1939

Germany invades Poland; WWII begins.

Erik’s mutation manifests in short bursts throughout the next few years in moments of stress or anger, made worse by the overall traumatic and stressful living conditions associated with being Jewish at this time. His parents are the only ones to witness his mutation, and are desperate to keep it hidden for Erik’s own safety. Erik’s mother considers it a gift from G-d, and one he must use wisely.

Unknown date, 1944

Erik and his family are sent to Auschwitz. Erik’s mutation manifests fully when he is separated from his parents, distorting an iron gate in an attempt to reach them. He is subdued by the surrounding guards via a blow to the head and taken to Klaus Schmidt (later Sebastian Shaw), a German doctor and mutant. 

Schmidt instructs Erik to move a coin as proof of his mutation, shooting Erik’s mother in front of him when he fails. Erik destroys the surrounding room with his powers in a fit of rage, as well as killing the guards present. His rage quickly turns to grief, however, and he breaks down, allowing himself to be comforted by Schmidt, who claims they’re going to ‘unlock his gift with pain and anger’. Needless to say, the resulting years in Schmidt’s grasp are not pleasant.

 The Schmidt years // v: doctor’s orders

1944

Erik is held captive by Schmidt for the next six years, subjected to frequent physical and psychological abuse in order to ‘strengthen’ his powers and improve his control over them. By the time he is seventeen he is capable of harnessing his abilities to perform to Schmidt’s standards, but lacks fine control over his mutation when not in a heightened emotional state. Throughout 1944 he is forced to work as a Sonderkommando alongside this. At the end of the war Schmidt takes him to a private facility in Germany, where Erik remains captive for the next several years.

Despite severe conditioning and traumatic bonding towards Schmidt, he makes a number of escape attempts throughout these years, as well as at least two attempts on Schmidt’s life.

Late 1949

The facility is bombed for reasons unknown to Erik. Erik escapes during the chaos, using his mutation to destroy anything and everything that stands in his way. As he flees, he looks back to see Schmidt absorbing an explosion. This is how he knows Schmidt is still alive afterwards, as well as having his longstanding suspicions confirmed that Schmidt, too, is a mutant.

Recovery and family years // v: we will not suffer here

1950

Having been on the run lest Schmidt attempt to track and hunt him down, Erik finally stops running for one reason only: by sheer chance, he reunites with Magda Eisenhardt. Both are overjoyed to see the other alive, and they marry the same year. Erik begins using the name Max Eisenhardt instead of his birth name. The two are impoverished and starving half of the time, but they make it work: Max manages to find steady work here and there, and the two settle in Vinnytsa to build a home and a family together. 

Summer, 1951

Anya Eisenhardt is born. Max takes work from anyone that will have him as he struggles to keep the family afloat, but the sheer relief of being alive and in a position where people may help them if things take a downturn is more than worth the struggle. Later in life, Erik considers these years the happiest of his life.

Late 1956

Their home in Vinnytsa is set on fire after Max magnetically hurls a crowbar at his boss for refusing to pay him when he and Magda are desperate for the money. Max is not present when the fire is first lit: he runs home upon seeing the smoke, and discovers that Anya is still stuck inside the house. Max attempts to save her, using his powers to tear the house apart, but it’s too late. In his grief and rage, Max lashes out with his powers, murdering his boss, the people responsible for the fire, and numerous innocent villagers in the process. When he calms and tries to go to Magda, she flees in terror, calling him a monster. Unbeknownst to Max, Magda is pregnant with twins at this time.

The Nazi-killing years // v: red right hand

Early 1957

With nothing left for him in Vinnysta and at a loss for what to do with himself, Max opts for the thing that living with Magda and Anya had allowed him to set aside: revenge. He begins his hunt for Schmidt, reclaiming the name Erik Lehnsherr in an attempt to shed the ghost of his former life with his family. He resolves to find Schmidt or die trying, and becomes unable to visualise a future outside of that.

Unknown date, 1957

Somewhere far away, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff are born, without Erik’s knowledge. Magda Eisenhardt dies soon after giving birth to them, and they are taken in by an elderly couple who raises them as their own.

1957-1962

Erik tracks Schmidt by hunting down former Nazis associated with him. He leaves a bloody trail across Europe in his search, leaving no survivors, and never settles in one place for long.

 XMFC timeline // v: first class

Early 1962

Erik attempts to kill Schmidt, now known as Sebastian Shaw, nearly drowning in the process of trying to drag his submarine up from the depths of the ocean. He is saved by Charles Xavier, working with the CIA. He allows Charles to bring him on-board the CIA’s ship, practically refusing to speak to anyone other than Charles and questioning him endlessly on his mutation as well as other mutants.

1962

Events of X-Men: First Class. Erik and Charles work together to locate other mutants, and the first group of X-Men are formed. The mutants work to hone their abilities, primarily with Charles’ assistance; Charles teaches Erik that pain and anger are not the key to unlocking his gift, and to help him, accesses a memory of Erik’s mother - one that, along with most of Erik’s memories from before 1944, had been repressed. Erik also forms a bond with Raven/Mystique, claiming that mutants should not have to hide who they are in order to be accepted by society.

October 28th 1962

Erik kills Sebastian Shaw with the coin he was ordered to move as a child. Erik proceeds to form the first incarnation of the Brotherhood of Mutants, taking the name Magneto. 

 Brotherhood years // v: rise up!

November 20th 1962

Magneto and the Brotherhood free Emma Frost, who joins them.

Following the events of the Cuban Missile Crisis, Kennedy administration authorizes the Central Intelligence Agency to establish Project WideAwake, a covert task force to investigate other X-Gene cases and their prevalence across the United States. While its mission strictly revolves around identification and research of mutants, it exercises paramilitary autonomy from the President’s mandates.

Edwin Partridge, a former Major General in the U.S. Army and a far right-wing activist, gains (through his contacts in the military) proof of mutant involvement during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

July 1963

Azazel and Angel are killed by Project WideAwake agents. Emma Frost is later killed by Sentinel prototypes.

November 22nd 1963

JFK is assassinated. Magneto has nothing to do with this because frankly it’s a stupid plot point, but is wanted for various terrorist actions related to pro-mutant shenanigans.

January 22nd 1964

Project WideAwake operatives are tasked with locating and apprehending Magneto. He is captured soon after.

February 11th 1964

A private trial takes place, which Charles Xavier and Hank McCoy are present for. Magneto is sentenced to two consecutive life sentences in a federal correctional facility without the possibility of parole, sparking the ‘Free Magneto’ movement.

 Imprisonment // v: isolation

1964-1973 Erik is imprisoned with only brief escapes over the course of nine years.

Early 1971 Having destroyed several prisons during the 60s, Magneto is finally permanently subdued by Trask Industries. He is placed in a specialised prison in the Pentagon, 1,320 ft below the Earth’s surface. It is composed of industrial-grade polymers and concrete.

1971-1973 Erik is kept in solitary confinement in prison (though he has been more or less stuck in one prison or another since 1964). He begins to speak almost exclusively in Yiddish and German, conversing with what he believes are ghosts of his parents (for whom he speaks Yiddish), and Schmidt (for whom he speaks only German). These are, of course, hallucinations, which he has experienced throughout his life in times of intense stress.

 Post-prison recovery years // v: the quiet years

1973 to unknown/variable date

Magneto escapes, somehow. He goes into hiding for a long-ass time and attempts to live a quiet, ordinary life, whilst also recovering from the isolation/prison-induced trauma of the past nine years. Charles Xavier is aware of his escape but chooses not to reveal it to the world so long as Erik does not resume his previous occupation of, uh, global mutant terrorist. At some point, Erik secures a safe haven for mutants on the island of Genosha, where he helps to build a self-sustaining community there.

Default timeline, aka mainverse // v: mutants are the future

Unknown/variable dates (these can literally take place at any time period after 1980 or so; the default is the present day)

Erik acts alone. The Brotherhood no longer exists, and Erik no longer lives in Genosha, though he visits it frequently and assists with its upkeep and maintenance when needed - as well as being more than willing to defend it, if necessary. Erik deals with threats to mutantkind as he sees fit, but is generally not the uh… comic-book villain he was post-XMFC. He and Charles Xavier are in contact with one another, and in some instances, Erik visits the school for a multitude of reasons.

[northwind4]

Dearest WingDings（11）

*It's a story about HandPlates! Gaster and Wing! Gaster

*I’ll appreciate it very much if you point out the mistakes I made in the translation, all kinds of help are welcomed!

*previous & next

*Handplates by @zarla-s

Wing!Gaster by me

————————————————

Chapter11

“WAR AGAINST THE PLATES”

174

The coffee was ready, Wing walked over and filled two mugs.

“When is the last time we slept?”He went to the workbench and handed one of the mugs to his companion.

Gaster glanced at the clock.

“6 days ago, I think.”

175

Gaster finally recovered completely a week ago, and a new plan was launched.

The previous project was canceled, and they arranged a comprehensive medical examination for the little skeletons. They also prepared the daily activities that children of this age should have, including courses and entertainment.

Although forgiving and overcoming the shadows of the past still had a long way to go, at least this was a new beginning.

The top-ranked items on the to-do list, right after “Accept Papyrus’ hug invitations anytime and anywhere”, was an iconic operation:

“i don’t care how long your mercy will last,”said Sans, “remove this weird thing first if you really want to show some kindness.”

W: Oh dear I can’t help wondering if you peeked at the outline.

GPS :? ? ?

W: Uh, sorry, I mean future.

W: And this is exactly what we are going to do next.

176

Plan 1

W: Since you drilled holes with an electric drill and then fixed it with screws

W: Sounds like it’s not that difficult to remove them.

G: ...

G: In order to prevent them from moving the plates themselves

He looked away.

G: I added some other magic to it

Plan 1 failed.

177

W: I made the 3D model of the children’s hands

W: Then we can make solid models with artificial calcium compounds and magic, which can act like the real bones to the greatest extent for practical operation.

W: We need about 20?

W: What’s that expression...

W: 30?

W: 40? 50? 60?

G: ...

G: Ten times more...please

178

WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO THEM YOU BAD SKELETON

179

W: (Turn on the computer to play the music Spear of Justice)

W: NGAHHH——!

G: What’s wrong with you

W: Howling to increase determination —__—

W: After all, this will be a huge project

180

Plan 5 failed.

W: It’s ok

W: It’s normal for this complicated operation to fail even 20 times.

181

Plan 26 failed.

W: emmmm

W: Sure enough, 20 is not enough.

W: Come on, there are more than 500 opportunities waiting for us!

182

Plan 159 failed.

W: Do you have more coffee?

G: I thought you would never be sleepy

W: Yeah I did not feel tired after becoming like this...I used to thought I didn’t need to eat or sleep anymore

W: Now it seems that I still have the limitation.

183

Plan 234 failed.

W: Honestly

W: If this thing is nailed to my hand

W: I’d rather break my whole hand than letting it stay on me

G: ...

W: Don’t tell me you think this can be tried to the kids

184

G: Maybe we can try to destroy the plates

W: Yes, but they are much stronger than the bones...

W: But we will never know without trying

185

Plan 287 failed.

Two scientists who had not slept for 3 days sank in the chair.

W: What on-under the earth did you use to make this thing?

W: Feels like it’s full of determination

G: It’s true that I was determined at the time

W: ...

Wing threw a part of himself at Gaster.

W: (*weakly)I’m gonna kill you...

186

Plan 299 failed.

W: Fine. You made me mad, little plate.

W: Do you think it will work if the beam of Gaster Blaster is focused on one point? Will it be strong enough to break the plate?

G: Yeah, together with the bones.

W: ...come on, I will control it

W: Ready?

W: HERE COMES THE 60000 ATTACK! !

187

The little skeletons playing in another room were attracted by the loud noise.

A large hole was smashed on the laboratory’s wall, and two Dr.Gasters were buried under the bricks and limestones. Inside the lab, the plate on the workbench was totally intact.

Wing climbed out of the piles of wall bricks. He lifted Gaster who had fallen on his body, shaking off the dust.

W: Are you okay?

G: Hmm...fine...

W: What material did you use to make that...?

W: It seems to be even stronger than the BARRIER.

Plan 300 failed.

188

Plan 324 failed.

W: It’s time to cook for the children again

W: Come on, you go to cook and take a break

G: No, you go to cook

W: You go

G: You go

W: You

Sans came over.

W: Hello kid, what’s up?

S: my brother just went to the kitchen

S: he wants to make you some—

G&W: Let’s go to cook.

189

Papyrus was waiting in the bedroom.

P: WOWIE! YOU SUCCEEDED IN CONVINCING THEM TO HAVE A REST!

P: HOW DID YOU DO THAT?

S: because i’m the brother of great papyrus

P: NYEH(≧∇≦)————!

The taller skeleton hugged his brother and kissed him.

190

Plan 401 failed.

W: One experiment failed 401 times

W: Do you know what this means

G: What

W: It means we are going to start the 402th time!

W: Yeah...!

He cheered weakly.

191

Plan 489 failed.

They made two cups of instant noodles.

W: (*eating) I always think instant noodles are better than compressed biscuits.

G: (*eating) I’m more used to chocolate.

Papyrus walked up to them.

W :?

P: (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)HUG

Gaster opened his arms and allowed the little skeleton to embrace him. From the stiffness of the action, the scientist still needed more practice.

P: WHAT ARE YOU EATING?

W: Instant noodles, a kind of convenience food.

P: MAY I—

G: No. You need a balanced diet.

The boy was a little bit lost, Gaster petted his head, and he was immediately happy again. He kissed his creator on the cheek before leaving to sleep.

W: Wow

W: (*applauding)

192

The coffee was ready, Wing walked over and filled two mugs.

“When is the last time we slept?”He went to the workbench and handed one of the mugs to his companion.

Gaster glanced at the clock.

“6 days ago, I think.”

Plan 502 failed.

193

Wing looked through the results of recent experiments.

W: We are very close...

W: Already able to eliminate all magic

W: Just stuck at the final physical removal step

W: Why did each bone break after removing the plate?

W: There must be something missing.

194

G: ...

G: I got an accident before

G: I wanted to use energy to...fix Sans’ right eye

G: ...

G: But the power suddenly went wrong and the explosion broke half of his skull.

His hands started shaking slightly, and Wing held them.

W: I am listening.

G: I put him in the tube for emergency treatment. At that time, his HP was full and all results of the physical examination ​​were completely normal.

G: But he just refused to wake up, and the cracks in the skull cannot be healed.

G: Later I took Papyrus to heal him. It was amazing. He soon woke up and everything went well.

G: I think maybe it was not just because of magic...

195

G: Monsters are made of magic, and magic comes from our soul

G: And the soul can...generate determination?

G: Like you said, if the strength of the plates came from my determination

G: ...

He looked up at Wing’s eyes.

G: What were you thinking when you rushed into the burning core?

196

W: ...

W: Sure enough, the doer is the best one to undo what he has done.

197

W: Besides myself, I have seen many monsters using determination in various parallel worlds.

W: If there is anything in common, it is probably the condition for launching this kind of power

W: It needs a...strong reason? Like what you are fighting for.

W: But not for harm, it’s a kind of, ugh not very well described...let’s get it simple—

W: It’s to protect who you love.

198

W: You love them, you want to protect them, for which you are willing to give everything as the price.

W: Even getting burned or melted......even if everyone will forget you.

W: I guess when you decided to start THAT project, you must had something that you treasured very much. That desire exceeded your fear and every other emotions.

G: ...

W: No need to be afraid.

W: You can do it, for these people, for your children

W: For yourself.

199

Plan 513.

You can do it, WingDingsGaster.

Think about your reasons for insisting.

The reason I insisted, Gaster thought, the reason I insisted.

The rEasoN i gOt evErYThing wrOnG He thought of the war in the past, in the fire and screaming he couldn’t find his families anymore.

He remembered the desperate look on the king after losing his wife and children. There were also two children shaking together, and Wing’s burning purple eyes when he found everything.

He saw Asgore standing in front of him, holding a jar containing a human soul in his hand.

He saw his hands covered with blood and ashes.

Gaster stepped back in fear, the bone model on the operating platform shattered into dust again.

Wing gave him a hand, and he held his arm to adjust the breathing.

“It’s okay,”Wing said,“Try again, there’s no need to make yourself suffer that much.”

“It maybe hard, but love and protection should be happy things in nature.” The scientist in black made the equipment ready again.

“Try thinking about what made your strong determination.” Gaster closed his eyes.

What is that?

Perhaps it is the basic magic that his parents taught him, the first book he had got, the beautiful rain which he held an umbrella to wait for.

It is Asgore and Toriel holding his hands on the war field, and the dinner they invited him to. And the successfully running core, the anime that Alphys shared with him. Perhaps it is Wing telling him to smile more. It is Papyrus’ hug, is the smiling faces that the baby skeletons had shown when they saw him.

Gaster seemed to hear the sound of tears falling. He opened his eyes and saw mild green light, some power he had lost was calling for reviving, although it was still very little, it kept growing.

There was a warm feeling in his chest, like the resonance of the soul.

200

Strange today, Papyrus thought, the lab was too quiet.

The little skeletons walked to the door of the laboratory, where they found the reason why no one had made a sound.

Gaster lay on the bench, and Wing turned into a black blanket covering him. The two scientists was in the deep sleep, like they just ended a long war.

Two groups of intact artificial hand bones were placed on the operating table.

Test record:

Plan 513 succeeded.

To rule out chance factor and make sure, additional experiments (20/20):

All succeeded.

[thecomicsnexus]

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES #57-62 (FINAL ISSUE) MARCH - AUGUST 1993 BY KEVIN EASTMAN, PETER LAIRD, JIM LAWSON, KEITH AIKEN, JASON TEMUJIN MINOR AND ERIC TALBOT

SYNOPSIS (FROM TURTLEPEDIA)

Mike, Don and Raph are on the rooftops overlooking some buildings. Don uses a payphone to contact Karai and is given a rendezvous point. Raph wonders if it's a trap, but Mike thinks that they can trust Karai.

"What choice do we have?" he muses.

Leonardo is bound at the feet of Karai and a cadre of Foot Soldiers in an abandoned warehouse. Karai orders her henchmen away and she cuts Leo's ropes, freeing him.

Just then the other three Turtles arrive. Karai explains that she is the leader of the Foot in Japan and that she's come to New York to restore order. Ever since Leo killed the Shredder (TMNT #21), the Foot faction in NYC has been in chaos, with different groups warring with one another for ultimate control... save for Shredder's Elite, who have been carrying out seemingly motiveless attacks on the other factions. Karai offers the TMNT a deal, if the Turtles kill the Elite and remove this unpredictable thorn from her side, she will offer them a truce with the Foot Clan.

Raph is angry and unwilling to partner with Karai, but she tells them to think about it and leaves.

By now, Gabby is quite pregnant. Casey is working in the diner with her and the two are thinking about moving out of their trailer and renting a house, since the baby will arrive soon and they'll need more space.

April and Robyn O'Neil attend their father's funeral. April tells Robyn that she's moving back to New York, as it's time for her to stop running from her problems and deal with them.

Master Splinter is beset upon by a monstrous Rat King, now in the guise of a huge, bipedal rat. Rat King commands Splinter to bow to his rule, but the Sensei refuses... causing the giant rat-beast to attack, screaming "You shall DIE!!!"

Splinter wakes from the dream, screaming himself. He quickly grabs a nearby rat and eats it.

"Yesss... good..." the Rat King observes, "Be happy little man-rat... rejoice! For with this step... the shattering of this taboo... your path is clear - your destiny... manifest!"

Meanwhile, we see a Foot Soldier near the destroyed water tower the Turtles had been living in. He is ambushed and killed by two Elite.

The pair then kick down the door of the room that was being used to spy on the Turtles and kill the remaining Foot Soldier.

The old man is in the hospital, getting physical therapy on his leg.

The Elite examine some photos of the TMNT, and realize that they've arrived too late. The leader crumples the picture and the deadly duo depart.

Casey dreams that he's walking with Gabby, when a monstrous version of himself shows up wearing the trademark hockey mask. Casey's evil twin knocks him out with a swing of a golf club and carries Gabby off to his waiting Chevy and speeds away. Casey stands up and notices a woman crying on a bench, as he walks over to comfort who he thinks is Gabby, he discovers that it's April.

Casey awakes from the dream in a doctor's waiting room. The physician asks Jones to step into his office, and promptly tells Casey that Gabby has died due to complications during childbirth.

"It's a small comfort, I know," the doc explains as Casey stares in shock, "But I was with her in those final moments and she looked quite at peace. The baby... we want to keep her in the maternity ward for a few extra days... just to be on the safe side. It's never easy losing loved ones, Mr. Jones. However... you have a little daughter now... and she needs you."

With that, the surgeon exits the office and Casey is left to himself, utterly dejected.

The TMNT are debating whether or not they should help Karai and ally themselves with the Foot Clan. Raphael is still against the idea, but Leonardo wants to finish this business, move on from their current path and stop living the lives Master Splinter assigned to them.

"Leo... what would Splinter say?" asks Mike.

"I'm unsure... I would gladly die for him... but... I don't know if I can give him my life." Leo responds.

As the guys debate the issues, Donatello finally surmises that it's a moot point to argue. Since the Foot Elite have sworn to kill Leo for slaying the Shredder, the Turtles will have to stop the Elite before they succeed in assassinating Leonardo. All four finally agree to seek Karai's assistance in dealing with the Elite.

Master Splinter is finally recovering from his wounds and lack of food, and is visited by a cheerful Rat King. The rodent liege tells the mutant rat that he's been trapped for two months, much longer than Splinter had thought.

"It has been educational" the Sensei notes.

"You came. You sought enlightenment," Rat King begins, "I was merely your guide..."

"And my tormentor." Splinter interrupts.

"Your beliefs, deeply held, sometimes blind you," states Rat King,"The walls erected in our minds block out the light of knowledge."

"That lesson is clear to me now... I can see why I was lead to this place." Splinter acknowledges.

"Yes... I've waited a long time for your arrival." announces the Rat King.

"You knew... I would come...?" asks Splinter.

"Of course," Rat King shrugs, "That's why I'm here."

"Hmmm... so... the Master becomes the student." the Sensei muses.

"...and may it ever be so." concludes Rat King.

Meanwhile, the old man is still recovering in the hospital from the injuries he received from the Elite's bombing. The fellow is sitting up by himself and watching TV, unfortunately the news of international war remains grim and he becomes morose.

The TMNT are climbing buildings to reach the rooftop of Karai's skyscraper headquarters. As they reach her rooftop, they find murdered Foot guards. The Turtles scramble through an open door and find the Foot's leader cradled over the body of a dead girl, surrounded by even more dead Foot Soldiers.

"Karai! Are you all right?!" Mike asks, "Your aide... is she...?"

"No... not my aide..." Karai cries, "...She was... my only daughter! A child...! Swear to me you will kill them... swear you will kill them all!!!"

Leo looks at her ruefully, and states, "I swear it."

Robyn and April meet with the executor of their father's estate in New York City and discover that they'll each be getting two hundred thousand dollars! Robyn asks April if she wants to go back to California with her to start a business, but April states that her mind is made up - she's going back to New York City. The sisters hug.

Casey is driving in the desert and crashes his Jeep into the side of a cliff. Uninjured, Jones emerges from the vehicle and starts climbing the rock face, carrying a container with him. As he reaches the top of the mountain, Casey removes the lid and scatters the ashes within.

"God speed, Gabe..."

The TMNT are working on some sort of mechanical project as Karai leads a troop of her Foot Soldiers on patrol. A Foot Elite spies Karai and her band and is shocked, because he thinks he's seen his Master, the Shredder (in reality it is only Karai wearing Shredder's armor).

The old man is standing in the hospital watching the TV news, and once again it features stories of political strife. The man leaves the room with the assistance of his walker.

Casey is at the diner where he had worked with Gabby, depressively nursing a cup of coffee. Suddenly a car screeches into the parking lot - it's Jones' Chevy! The cook asks Casey if he should call the cops, but Jones tells him he'll take care of it. Casey goes out to the parking lot and beats up the two thieves and retrieves his car.

Master Splinter is finally healed and exploring the bottom of the huge silo that he's trapped in. As he searches for a way out, he comes upon the skeletal remains of the Rat King.

"Ah... once more the universe allows a glimpse... of its myriad wonders... its imponderable mysteries!" the Sensei declares, "Yet, it is ever so... from Life, Death... and from Death... Life!"

Invigorated, Master Splinter uses his ninja skills to climb the sheer brick wall of the silo, ultimately achieving his freedom.

Casey Jones is driving east in his Chevy, his baby daughter named Shadow nestled in her baby carrier beside him.

Robyn and April are visiting the burned out remains of their father's antique shop in New York City. Robyn is distraught to see this place filled with so many wonderful childhood memories reduced to a shambles.

"I hate seeing it like this!" Robyn exclaims, "Growing up - there was so much life here!"

"I know," April agrees, "Now it just looks like... death."

"Maybe it's better that it'll be torn down... I mean, everything passes, huh April?" queries Robyn.

"Yeah..." April muses, "Seems like nothing's... permanent."

Robyn asks April what she plans to do, but April isn't sure. With that the sisters part ways, as Robyn has a flight to catch to California.

Before she leaves, April hears a noise from within the decrepit structure, but sees nothing.

"Hmm... probably the wind or a rat... a rat..." she sighs, and hails a cab to take her away.

Inside the building, Mike is watching April drive off. The Turtles are meeting with Karai and her Soldiers. Raph demands to know why Karai has called them here, and the Clan leader tells him that she was curious to see the place, as it holds so much significance to the events that lead them all to their current destiny.

Mike and Raph don't like being in the building, especially since it was the Foot who burned it down. Leo bends down and finds a photograph of April and Casey, in happier times. He folds the photograph in half and puts it in his belt for safe keeping.

"Enough reminiscing," the Turtle's leader announces, "We have a job to do."

"And scores to settle. Let's move on." Karai states.

Just then a crack appears in the ceiling and a group of Elite drop through the roof.

Five Elite Guard face off against the TMNT, Karai and her Foot Soldiers. Seizing the opportunity to confuse and deceive, the disguised Karai screams at the Elite.

"Traitors! I trained you to be steel tigers... not mad dogs! You dishonor me... and you dishonor the Foot Clan. All of you -- commit seppuku! NOW!!!"

One of the Elite, Tomei, falls for the trick and commits ritual suicide, but the others are not so easily deceived and demand to see "Shredder's" face. Karai removes the helmet and throws it at the Guard.

"I will show you my face! Look well, fools... gaze upon the face of vengeance... and see your doom!!!"

The Elite are taken aback and the Turtles use their pause to launch an attack.

Casey arrives at his mother's apartment building with his baby.

"Oh Arnold," Casey's Mom admonishes, "What did you do... go and get some girl pregnant?"

"Not exactly..." Casey states, "Can I come in, Ma?"

"Sure! Moving back in, are you?" Mrs' Jones asks.

"Well... maybe for a little bit," admits Casey, "Until I get us our own place..."

"Don't be silly, Arnold. I got an empty three-room in the basement."

"Thanks, Ma..." Casey smiles.

"So...who do we have here? Oh what a cutie-pie!" Mrs. Jones beams.

"That's Shadow... my... um... daughter." announces Casey.

"Shadow? Jeez... let me guess... you named her, right?"

"Sure did!" exclaims Casey.

"Is she yours?" Casey's mom asks.

"Well... legally, yeah... but biologically, no."

"So," Mrs. Jones wonders, "Where's the mother?"

"Ma," Casey begins, "Don't call me Arnold."

The Turtles and the Elite are battling furiously. Foot Soldiers are armed with submachine guns and firing at will, but most of them are being killed by the Guard.

April is seated at a restaurant. She's circled an item on the Real Estate page.

The old man is peering out of the window of the hospital. He walks away from it, needing no assistance, and sits on the bed.

Leonardo takes out one of the Elite, but another has cornered Karai. Raph has his hands full with one of the Guard who's utilizing a chain, but the Turtle defeats his opponent. Karai leaps onto a lighting fixture to escape her foe, but it pulls out of the ceiling and sends her careening to floor - the Elite dives after her but is slain when Karai uses a lamp post to impale him. Outside on the roof, Donatello is searching for his quarry. The Elite sneaks up on the Turtle and kicks him to the floor, breaks his leg and then kicks the injured terrapin off of the roof!

Karai has her hands full as another Elite attacks her.

"You profane the image of our Master, the Shredder," the Elite Guard growls as he punches Karai in the face, knocking her to the ground where he's able to get the advantage on her, "And for that.. you must DIE!"

As the Elite Guard prepares to deliver the killing blow to Karai, Donatello manages to overcome his injuries and grab one of the Foot Soldier's machine guns. Before the Elite can act, the Turtle pulls the trigger and kills him. Karai arises and goes over to Don, helping him stand with his broken leg.

April arrives at Mrs. Jones' apartment building. It seems that April has decided to invest the money she got from her father's estate into rental property, and coincidentally, Mrs. Jones is looking to sell her apartment building and retire in Florida. Mrs. Jones takes April on a tour of the place, first stop: the basement, where the "handy man" is working. Mrs. Jones asks April if she'll keep the handyman on, and O'Neil is tentative. Soon enough, Arnold Casey Jones is "introduced" to April.

Casey and April both exclaim "I can't believe it!" and give each other a big hug.

"Uh... does this mean you'll take it?" Casey's mom asks.

Leonardo is facing off with the final Elite in a sword battle. Both are cut seriously when Leonardo drops his katanas and lunges into his adversary. The leap takes both of them over the edge of the collapsed floor and they fall to the first floor - neither the worse for wear, the hand to hand fight begins. After initially getting the upper hand, the Elite is overpowered by the Turtle and dispatched.

The old man in the hospital, Mr. Buscheyev, is checking out, although he still looks depressed.

Leonardo makes a splint for Don's broken leg while Mikey gets to work constructing a travois. Karai thanks the Turtles for their help.

"I... I owe you a great deal." she begins.

"You owe us nothing but your word, Karai." Leonardo tells her.

"We made a deal," Don notes, "Just honor your part of it."

"I will keep my word, Turtles. No longer will the Foot Clan bother you. We have our world... and you will have yours."

"I'm just glad it's over... maybe now we can live a normal life..." Mike hopes.

"HAH!" snorts Raph.

"But... what of the price of this... peace," muses Don, "The blood shed, the lives lost..."

"I'll not say I'm pleased with the way it happened, Don... but can't you see? Finally... for the first time in our lives... we are not in the shadow of the Shredder." Leonardo explains.

"What about you, Karai?" Mike queries, "What will you do?"

"Once the reorganization of the Foot in New York is completed, I will return to Japan. There... I will spread the ashes of my daughter on Asana Bay and perhaps... begin the healing of my ravaged heart." Karai states.

"I'm sorry." Mike replies.

"But even my grief cannot intrude on my duties. The company's -- the Clan's -- interests supersede all else. It does me no good to wish it otherwise." Karai says.

"Can't you change things?" asks Mike.

"Perhaps... someday," Karai answers, "But for now, it is my path... as your path, until today, has been one of vengeance and reprisal, this path has ended, as life has offered you a new beginning... use this opportunity well."

"We will Karai," Leo states, "We will."

Casey, Shadow and April are at the farmhouse in Northampton, Massachusetts. Jones came back to pick up some items that he wants, and the pair set about cleaning up a little. April heats a bottle for Shadow and finds one of Casey's favorite mugs. Later that evening, after dinner the two reflect on their past.

"Y'know, it seems funny eating dinner at this table," Casey observes, "Just like old times... it's like we never left!"

"Well, there is one difference." April notes as she gets up and walks over to Casey.

"What's that?" Jones asks. April then plants a kiss on his surprised lips.

"I'll do the dishes!" Casey beams.

"Great! Then when Shadow falls asleep," April replies coyly, "You can tell me a bedtime story!"

Jones starts washing up and finds one of Leo's Aikuchi knives. He shows the blade to April.

"I wonder where they are now..." Casey ponders.

The next morning, April is swimming in the lake. As she treads water, something pulls her under. Casey springs into action, but before he dives in, April is pushed out of the water by 3 sets of green hands. Leo, Mike and Raph emerge from the lake with April in tow, Mikey lending an arm to her as the group makes its way to land.

"You guys!" April gasps, "Scare me half to death!"

Casey gives everyone a hug, except Raph, who he throws a punch at (much to Raph's delight).

The group relaxes on the grass and catch up with everything that's transpired over the previous months. April announces that she's definitely buying Casey's mom's apartment building and she'll be sharing it with Casey and Shadow. Mikey hits it off with Shadow. April asks where Donatello is and Leo explains that he's with Master Splinter. The friends hike out to the woods and find Master Splinter and Don in a cave. Stories are exchanged.

"So April and Casey have to be back in New York tomorrow and we were going to hitch a ride with them," Leo explains to Don and Splinter, "You feel up to it?"

"No," Don announces, "I've thought about it, and I'm going to stay here with Splinter."

"Huh?" Casey blurts out.

"You're sure about this, Don?" Leo inquires.

"Yeah... I need some time to... reflect on everything's that happened... my mind and body need recuperative time... and Splinter has agreed to help me." explains Donatello.

"Well, I..." Leo begins.

"Donatello's decision... he has made it." Splinter states.

"Yes, Master Splinter... as you wish." Leonardo bows.

April tells Don and Splinter to stay at Casey's farmhouse, something the mutants are hesitant to do, for fear of being discovered. As the group prepares to leave the cave, April pauses to say goodbye to Splinter, but he's gone.

"Please don't think ill of him," Donatello says, "He... while we were gone, something happened to him... something that he's been unwilling to talk about."

April and Casey are visibly disappointed with this explanation, but they ask Donatello to tell Splinter goodbye for them. Then April, Casey and Shadow depart with Mike, Leo and Raph. As they reach the edge of the farm and leave the forest behind, April pauses once again.

"Casey... can I have a few minutes alone?" she asks.

"Sure, babe." Casey assures her and walks off, leaving her at the edge of the woods.

"I don't know if you're there, Splinter... if you hear me. If you can... I want you to know... my father died recently. My Dad -- he raised me, taught me a lot about life, how to be a good person. I loved him. I still do. He's gone now, but... the last few years, I've felt that I've had two fathers and... and... I've loved them both. Goodbye, Splinter." April reveals through tears.

From the depths of the forest, Splinter emerges and walks over to the crying woman.

"April," he begins, and as he stands before her, he holds out his arms, "Daughter."

The two embrace as the rest of the family watches.

Mr. Buscheyev is being taken by a cab to his new home. A man is accompanying him and carries his suitcase up the steps of the apartment building to his unit. The younger fellow opens the door and escorts Mr. Buscheyev inside, pointing out the various features and rooms.

"Got any questions?" the young man asks.

"No... thank you." Mr. Buscheyev says.

"The director, Mrs. Broderick, will come by today to introduce herself and to acquaint you with the facilities. I'll be by next week to check up on you. Good luck, Mr. Buscheyev." the young man explains as he exits the tidy apartment.

Mr. Buscheyev turns on the TV on heads over to a window and looks out dejectedly, as the camera pans away from him.

The End.

REVIEW

This is a proper ending for volume one. Except for some plots, it almost seems like an ending.

And this is the type of arc TMNT should always have. I feel like volume 4 was a little like this in terms of ongoing plots, but that never got to an ending.

As for the specifics of the story. The old man in the hospital is supposed to represent the passage of time. At least, that is what it says in the letter columns. And you could understand it also from the point of view of Volume 1. This old man ends up in a retirement home, just like the volume.

I knew about Shadow Jones, but I didn’t know it wasn’t April’s. This was clever, as making April go through pregnancy would have brought all the tropes we don’t want to read about. Casey’s journey is not that obvious to me until the moment he gets his car back, that was an interesting arc.

As for Splinter and the Turtles... I am not sure what’s going on with Splinter, maybe he feels like his sons do not need him anymore? But that last moment between April and Splinter was very emotive.

The art is amazing for an action book. Regular human drama... is 50/50. Sometimes it looks like very muscular people having conversations. But fortunately, most of the time looks like TMNT.

I give these issues a score of 9.

[swissmissficrecs]

Best Fics of 2018

Once again, this was a bumper year for fan fiction in the Sherlock BBC fandom*, with a few very long-anticipated fics coming to completion alongside some recent smash hits from established authors and even a couple of newer and lesser-known writers hitting it out of the ballpark. My picks are all, unsurprisingly, long, plotty, angsty Johnlock fics, featuring in particular post-series 4 fixits and Parentlock along with AU's, especially other professions and fusions/crossovers. What they all have in common though, is being of absolutely stellar quality not just in the technical aspects of the writing, but also the handling of themes, the character work, and the emotional impact. Any one of these could be a published book, and perhaps in the near future, some actually will be!

* (I also snuck in one ACD series because it’s my list and I can.)

My caveat as always: this list is obviously skewed toward my own personal preferences and reading habits. There are plenty of other fics that I loved, and even more that I simply didn’t get around to reading (yet), so it’s not a judgment if your favorite (or one you wrote) isn’t on here. Think of this as a sampling rather than a definitive list. I hope this will help you to re-acquaint yourself with fics you loved, give a chance to others you may have skipped the first time round, and possibly discover something entirely new and astonishing.

So here they are, in descending order of length:

The Men Who Talked Between the Words (439746 words) by Odamaki Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade Summary: John expected to be a father some day; he expected to have the house, and the wife and the nice suburban job. Sherlock never expected to have children, in part because he never expected to make it past 30. As it turns out, you don't get a choice. Crammed into Baker Street with a baby, John struggles with single-parenthood and his own fears, while Sherlock treads the fine line between doing too little and saying too much.

Gravity (English Version) (282983 words) by kirin_calls Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Greg Lestrade/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor, John Watson/Victor Trevor Summary: Part 1: When John takes up mixed martial arts training, he doesn't expect it to lead to a new relationship. But there are darker things afoot at the gym, and John is soon drawn in deeper than he wants. When an old flame from Sherlock's past turns up, it's time for everyone to declare their loyalties... and for John to finally discover where his heart truly belongs. / Part 2: John is struggling with his loss. Plagued by nightmares, his life gone topsy-turvy, he is no longer able to lead a normal existence. As he seeks out some stability, some way to slowly pull himself up out of the morass of his grief, old rivals become friends and details about Sherlock's past come to light, leading John to discover something strange that won't let him go.

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest (280332 words) by Maribor_Petrichor Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

The Bluest of Blue (196473 words) by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Molly Hooper/Greg Lestrade Summary: John Watson's 10th season as a Denali National Park Ranger was shaping up to look like all the years before. Until a special team from Europe was flown into the Park for a summer-long wolf-tracking research project, and the head of that research team was wearing a perfectly tailored suit.

Scar Tissue (192179 words) by J_Baillier, 7PercentSolution Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John has scarcely recovered from his Afghanistan tour when Sherlock is injured at work, putting their already strained relationship to the test.

A Game of Hearts (162553 words) by zmethos Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, John Watson/OMC Summary: Seven stories written circa 2010, after the first series/season of Sherlock but before Season 2. Therefore, none of these stories reflect anything from Season 2 onward! Think of it as an alternate timeline or something. Slow build of a relationship between Sherlock and John. Gets quite dark in places. [Note: This is an AO3 repost of a fic from fanfiction.net.]

Drift Compatible (130546 words) by J_Baillier Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: A washed out war hero struggling with his past. A prodigy who wants nothing to do with his family legacy. Both are looking for something—and someone—worth fighting for in a world where human civilisation is constantly under threat.

The Burning Heart (119461 words) by May_Shepard Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, John Watson/Original Male Character(s) Summary: When Sherlock dies, John Watson feels like his life is over too. He’s completely shut down, until Mark Morstan, a new nurse at John’s medical clinic, catches his attention, and helps him uncover the long buried truth of his attraction to men. Although he’s certain he’ll never get over Sherlock, John plans to move on, and build a new life with Mark, unaware that Sherlock is not quite as dead as he appears, and that Mark is hiding secrets of his own.

Maintenance and Repair (106650 words) by patternofdefiance Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, John Watson/OFC Summary: John wants to explain the rush of sensation and data, which is just another form of sensation (or is it the other way around?). John wants to say: Augmentation circuits report temperature, pressure, various forms of quantitative input. Sudden changes are reported as pain, since sudden changes are dangerous, and pain is the quickest way to encourage reflexive extraction. But all John can manage is, “Nng.” Because this sudden touch is not reporting as pain.

The Wedding Garments (105390 words) by cwb Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

Kintsukuroi (91822 words) by sussexbound Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

Missing Pages (78852 words) by PlaidAdder Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mary Morstan/Violet Hunter Summary: This is a group of interlinked short stories (most between 2000 and 7000 words) which tell the story of how Holmes and Watson really came to be separated at the Reichenbach Falls, and how they found each other again. Each story is in the form of a document--a letter, a journal, a surveillance report, an affidavit, etc.--which is linked to one or more ACD canon tales, and which tells us something about that story that was changed or suppressed in Watson's published account of it. Holmes/Watson, with glimpses of other relationships.

Summit Fever (78782 words) by J_Baillier Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, James Sholto/John Watson, James Sholto/OFC Summary: After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute? 

The Vapor Variant (72684 words) by 88thParallel Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade Summary: Little did Sherlock know that the vapor to which he exposed John was a bioweapon— containing a bioengineered hybrid virus. Now, John is fighting for his life in the early stages of encephalitis, and it’s down to Sherlock and a team of scientists to save him, if they can only find him first. Sherlock needs to keep fear and guilt from getting the better of him if he’s to salvage his relationship with John—and that’s assuming the love of his life even survives….

Roommates are for little people (69055 words) by alexxphoenix42 Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John was looking forward to seeing his friends back at uni, but a new year brings new complications, not the least of which is a dorm room with only one bed, and a stroppy roommate with an utterly spectacular arse. God, John doesn't need the headache.

Masters of Ink (67482 words) by Indybaggins Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John has a triple-coiled tattoo machine in his hand and a row of inks at the ready. He has gloves on, a willing client in front of him, and a detailed stencil. He is ready to win this bloody competition. Except he’s competing against Sherlock Holmes... First-meeting-on-a-reality-show AU, Ink Master edition! There is expert tattooing, slightly less expert flirting, and two men falling hard. But John is married, and they can’t all win.

floating through a dark blue sky (58872 words) by Lediona Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant -- but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. *** Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day. [Notting Hill fusion]

The Wolf (55817 words) by Laur Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Sherlock gets it wrong. Days, months, even years in the future, Sherlock’s oversight during the Baskerville case will continue to torment him, but nothing about that night will ever be as painfully vivid as the memory of John’s screams. This is how it begins.

Christmas Time After Time (41473 words) by PlaidAdder Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mary Morstan/John Watson, Clara/Harry Watson Summary: John's not really big on Christmas; and this year, the first after Mary's death, he's not feeling it. Everyone's away, Sherlock's on a case--alone--and Rosie's asleep. But that's all right. He's fine. He'll just have a quiet Christmas Eve by himself, drinking in front of the telly. Only out there in time and space, there's another Doctor who thinks that sounds like the saddest thing ever. And she's going to do something about it. Thirteen takes John on a whirlwind tour of Christmases past and future. The more he learns about this time travel thing, the more John starts to wonder: how did his current timeline become...what it is? And might these alternatives hold the key to a less miserable present, and maybe a brighter future?

Whiteout (37041 words) by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: A documentary crew follows the Matterhorn aerial rescue team from Air Zermatt, profiling the mechanics, pilots, and paramedics as they save patients on the infamous mountain. Their camera may catch more than they're looking for, however, when it comes to a certain paramedic named John Watson. . .

The Winter Garden (31211 words) by Callie4180 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical.

A Home for Us (30583 words) by sussexbound Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

Another Auld Lang Syne (30234 words) by DiscordantWords Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: There had been years of missed chances.

A Singular Friendship (28679 words) by agirlsname Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Sherlock is closer to John than anyone has ever been. It's almost like a relationship - but John isn't gay, so it's clearly not. Not even when they hold hands and hug every day, not even when they sleep in the same bed, not even when they cuddle every morning...

Stradivarius (20298 words) by Berty Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Life goes back to what passes for normal at 221B Baker Street. Sherlock's back and his scars have faded. John's still a confirmed bachelor and his nightmares have mostly ceased. So why are there awkward pauses and uncertain glances? Why are they both on their best behaviour? It's been a long, cold winter in London and there's more to come before spring arrives.

One Good Scare (17381 words) by blueink3 Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Mummy invites Sherlock, John, and Rosie to the country for her birthday, which just so happens to coincide with the annual Harvest Festival, an event Sherlock loathes. With John seemingly making the wrong move at every turn and with ghosts hiding in each of their closets, what will it take for their (Halloween) masks to finally come off?

Oh, my friends, it's been a long hard year (11914 words) by splix Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mr. Chatterjee/Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock Holmes' Father/Mummy (Sherlock) Summary: Christmas is rubbish this year.