#i really medicated my headache and logged in for nothing

[fingertipsmp3]

Failed at pretty much everything I set out to do today BUT I did start outlining a writing project so that's a win at least

[quaranmine]

playing doctor on myself this morning with google and losing my mind just a bit

i keep. over the course of the last two years at least. randomly getting these blotchy red rashes on my torso. they don't itch or hurt, they aren't raised, and they seem completely random. i cannot figure it out or any link between it appearing. It will typically last several hours. they do not go on my face, neck, or limbs, just the torso. i don't think theyre like dangerous??? because i assume that if they were i would have some adverse reaction like pain, fever, swelling, etc. so that is why i have not been overly concerned with it. but it is baffling me. now sometimes in the past i have gotten extremely itchy for no reason on my torso, so maybe that's a factor, but the itchiness does not always coincide with the rash. for example, today there is none.

the thing i'm interested in today though, is if it's some sort of drug allergy rash. because it always looks exactly like the rash i got last year when i took paxlovid for my covid infection. the doctor told me that's a common (harmless) reaction. i've looked it up and it looks most like a morbilliform drug reaction which are very common. so, if morbilliform drug reactions look and behave like that, i had that reaction to taking a drug, and a doctor told me it was a reaction to the drug then....

...it stands to reason that my experiencing this off and on for 2-3 years might ALSO be a similiar reaction? i just can't figure out the common thread.

one of my meds is implicated as a cause for this type of rash, and has studies/journal articles on it causing this. EXCEPT. um, it happens when you are first introduced to taking it??? and like dude i've been taking this particular medication since 2016 probably. i'm sure anything is possible (like developing new sensitivies) but nothing i have read is about reactions popping up YEARS after the fact, just within 1-3 weeks of starting it. i saw a study done on someone who developed the rash after taking the medicine, but 5 days after first taking it. i saw another study/journal article that was written as a diagnostic aid that literally excluded any drugs you'd been on for a few months as not the cause. so??? idk. my other medicine does not seem to be implicated in this, as when i looked it up i didn't really get anything.

i'm no biochemist or whatever but i can't seem to find any similarities between my med and paxlovid? like ok, we've established that either the nirmatrelvir or ritonavir that is in paxlovid likely caused it. that's what the doctor said. he said my reaction was a common one to one of the drugs in that mixture, which lines up with everything i have read. but afaik these drugs arent like....similiar to the one i have been taking...it isnt like "oh these are the same drug class so maybe your issue is with them"....

the other (relevant) drug implicated in these types of reactions are NSAIDS. now this could be something. i did take ibuprofen yesterday, and woke up with the reaction. is that it? i'm going to start logging it every time it happens to see if it ever coincides with me recently taking ibuprofen. BUT LIKE. i take ibuprofen pretty frequently, mostly for headaches. this reaction might only happen once every two or three months. i feel like if i were getting a reaction from ibuprofen it would happen every time, not just once in a blue moon?

so why am i experiencing it today???? i'm not wearing any clothing made from atypical materials. i havent used any new shower products. i havent tried any new medicines for a while. i havent eaten anything i don't normally have. none, except for the paxlovid rash, coincide with me being sick so i doubt it's viral.

if it IS a mobilliform drug reaction, it still seems atypical because a) i havent started anything new b) it goes away within a few hours, not days/weeks c) it isn't always itchy

WHERE IS THE COMMON LINK AND HOW DO I FREE MYSELF OF THIS?

[sinnoh-research-and-restoration]

I acknowledge the warning, and will keep that in mind. Thankfully, it seems to have some degree of psychic powers, seemingly unleashing some sort of psychic version of Wing Attack. If it is indeed a psychic type, then Joan’s Dark type and Cantante’s Ghost type will prove useful to ward it off. For now, said Braviary is keeping away from anyone, so I’ll just let it be and keep tabs just in case. The large fellow seems to be unbothered by the cold, so I don’t imagine it’ll be leaving the Crown a tundra soon anyways.

As for Arezu’s situation, given it’s not exactly safe to try and use an already rarely seen and thus available Space-time Distortion to begin with, and making use of the powers of, say, the mythical Celebi or Deity of Time Dialga itself (which would admittedly be fitting for bringing Arezu, a Diamond Clan member who from what I can tell did worship Dialga, back to her original time period) isn’t exactly something you can just “do” on a whim, especially when you can’t exactly find any of them easily at all, I wouldn’t be surprised if Arezu, even if/when she recovers her memories, is still unable to return back to her time. I also can’t help but wonder if she’s also from another timeline on top of that, given alternate realities were proven to exist in things like the Ultra Beast incident of Alola, thus logically slightly different versions of our own world wouldn’t be out of the question, but that’s something we can’t determine easily…

Thankfully, Arezu has been keeping quite calm overall despite the situation, and at this rate it does seem like the distortion will close up soon and we’ll be able to take her to the closest hospital for a more thorough medical examination. She does have a bit of a headache, nothing too severe but noticeable, so she’s been mostly resting, sometimes with Hoshi getting curious enough to cuddle up before being scared off by Arezu subtly shifting. I’d give her headache relief medication, though given the fact that she’s a faller and from the past on top of that, I’m unsure if that’s a good idea at the moment. As such, I’ve opted for just making sure she has easy access to water in case it’s because of dehydration. Hopefully, after a hospital trip that’s all sorted out.

An alternate timeline is indeed possible. It is indeed likely she will not be able to return to when and where she came from, though we can only hope for the best.

It is good that she's calm. You made a smart decision to not give her medicine. It's very likely that she would not have had a positive reaction to it due to her body simply never having been subjected to modern medicine before. We recommend keeping her from highly processed or non-home-grown type foods as well, for similar reasons.

Malakai, the Faller we talked about previously has agreed to give his personal testimony of his experience with being brought through time. We shall include it below for your reference.

< There is an attached video log. Malakai, dressed in his usual clothes, is sitting in front of the camera. He looks slightly uncomfortable, but not horribly so. He begins to talk.

"Suppose I'm doing this. I was found alone and unconscious in the woods when I was eight years old. Already had a few scars, mostly these," he pauses to gesture to the scars apparently slashed across his face, "but also had some fresh ones. Arms and back, mostly.

"The doctors told me they didn't know how long I'd been unconscious when they found me. After they did find me, I, apparently, woke up a couple days later.

"They were.. Concerned. Because of my reactions to the medicines I was given. I'm fine now. I've had seizures since then, but again, don't know if that's necessarily a new thing, or from the medicine at all. They went away for the most part after a couple years, though they've started up again now.

"I couldn't," Malakai pauses again, seeming to collect his thoughts. "I couldn't really eat that well back then, I would just throw whatever I did eat back up. It took a while before that stopped happening, but I still don't like most. Y'know. Junk food, and that sort of stuff. Hurts my stomach.

"The amnesia didn't bother me too. S.R.R.F. here uncovered those photos, and there was me. Me and my family. That was the first time I could really remember anything.

"Arezu, you said this lady's name was? Yeah, she sounds familiar. I.. I can't say I knew her, but she sounds familiar. Part of the Diamond Clan. My mother was too. Yeah."

The video log clicks off after that. >

[chiarrara]

'can't do anything' disorder log, day 11,101:

can't focus on watching figure skating competition. keep pausing to scroll aimlessly on my phone, or compulsively respond to strangers comments on a youtube video

ate once hours ago. teeth have really been acting up the last few days, hurt all the time. I have headaches every day. maybe someday I will go to a dentist.

noticed growth in the potential set of tumors on my breast. don't know if they're actually tumors. last time I went to a doctor he made me cry because he wouldn't examine my broken knee because it happened almost two years ago but I didn't make my follow up appointment back then because I fell into a fugue state after my psych randomly retired so i lost access to medication for 'can't do anything' disorder which caused my entire life to blow up in a really messy public way, which caused me to lose my job and my insurance, and put me in serious legal trouble! which I'm still currently in.

he said the "insurance wouldn't pay for an mri" anymore since i broke it so long ago. i still don't exactly know what broke. he also wouldn't refill my adhd medication because I said I smoked weed occasionally. I stopped smoking for 6 weeks but my appointment got cancelled when i went back because 'cant do anything' disorder made me 10 minutes late. I didn't go to any of the referrals he made because the emotional trauma kept me from motivating myself over the barriers in the way of me ever leaving the house. also, I never got the referral for the growths on my skin. that are growing.

started spotting again because I'm 5 months overdue on getting my iud removed and replaced. the memory of the unmedicated pain i was in getting it put in 7 years ago is the barrier keeping me from overcoming all the other barriers this time. If I start having my period again, I'm afraid I'm gonna start experiencing serious dysphoria. also my cramps used to be pretty debilitating.

i barely shower. my hair is unmanageable due to a few really bad improvised haircuts and the fact that I'm laying down nearly 100% of the time. i can't do basic chores. the house is a mess like always, and has a million expensive problems going unresolved. my dad has just as many problems as me so they're not getting fixed very quickly. but he did get the roof repaired finally, after two years of it leaking water into my room, causing allergenic mold to grow in the walls. I can't sleep in there anymore, and everywhere else is full of junk. I sleep on the couch. It's not doing good things for my hips and back.

Living here instead of sleeping on the floor in the living room of my sister's one bedroom apartment and hiding from maintenance everytime they come in because that building's roof is also leaking and keeps spilling buckets of water all over her stuff everytime it rains means I get to be with my cat though, and that makes me really happy. my relationship with my sister is very much on the rocks now though.

my personality sucks, I'm angry all the time, I'm realizing my lack of control over myself and constantly being in a reactive state (that's gotten much worse over the years) has ruined almost every single relationship I have, and like actually traumatized people who loved me. I don't know how to stop. therapy scares me, I used to do it a lot but it's so fucking flawed and last time I went to try a new person it put me in such a panic I didn't go back. I don't know how to get better. Every path seems too hard and I have gotten to a point where I don't believe in myself enough to try literally anything, so I'm rotting away on my dad's couch, doing nothing but being a drain on finances and making everyone's lives around me worse.

I know (finally) that if I actually manage to kill myself (this time) it wouldn't actually make anyone's lives better, they would all be traumatized instead and like even if it did provide relief to some extent it wouldn't outweigh the pain. but being alive and useless and mean and spiteful also isn't like a postive force, so. I guess I have to figure out how to stop sucking and figure out how to do something. to be a positive force in the lives of the people I love? that's way more challenging than fantasizing about killing myself though. probably way more rewarding too.

i hope i figure it out.

[silversatoru]

birthdays don’t have to suck

fushiguro megumi x f!reader (elli)

synopsis: you get really sick on your birthday, but megumi makes sure that you still have a good day :))

t/w: fluff, reader is sick, vomiting, medicine (tylenol lol), some details pertain specifically to elli

wc: 2.2k

a/n: a small birthday present for the love of my life @megumifushi who never sleeps enough and is always sick,, i love u and i hope ur days not too bad <3

you stared into your dimly lit laptop, red eyes squinting at the black text that sped across the screen as your fingers scrambled against the keys. you weren’t even sure that what you were writing was comprehensible at this point, but your essay that was due tomorrow morning wasn’t gonna write itself. at this point it just needed to get done, concerns of quality were thrown out the window hours ago.

aside from the burning and stinging in your eyes, your entire body ached, and you were ridden with chills and goosebumps. seemed like a fever was coming on, but you didn’t have the time or capacity to care about that right now. you’d pop a few tylenol and crawl into bed in a couple hours, and everything would be better tomorrow.

what time was it anyway? it couldn’t possibly be that late yet, right? 

you glanced to the corner of the screen, eyes falling on a bright 3:56am that made your heart sink and your eyes widen. you had a terrible habit of losing track of time and staying up into ungodly hours of the night — a habit that your wonderful boyfriend was trying so terribly hard to break. 

you glanced to your left and took in his sleeping form, his lips parted ever so slightly as he took small breaths of air. he’d be disappointed and upset with you if he knew how horrid your sleep schedule had been lately, and he’d probably blame your chills and headaches on your lack of sleep as well — which in all fairness was probably pretty accurate. 

“i’ll just finish this up real quick and then i promise i’ll sleep, ‘kay gumi?” you spoke softly, running your fingers through his soft, spiky hair. 

he was undisturbable, his mind off somewhere in a dreamland that was quite the distance from your small bedroom. and that was probably for the better, because him nagging at you to go to sleep would be too distracting for you to get your work done. 

your hands moved rapidly against the keyboard for about another hour, words spilling onto the screen until you finally hit the page requirement for your paper. it was probably terrible, most likely had a few words spelled wrong, and honestly you were pretty certain you’d repeated yourself several times, but fuck it — submit. you were typically an excellent student, so one bad paper wouldn’t kill you, and you were too tired and achy to care right now. 

you got up and placed your laptop onto your desk, plugging it in and letting a heavy sigh fall from your lips as you made your way back over to the bed. the soft blankets were therapeutically warm on your chilly skin as you crawled in against megumi’s back, effectively turning him into the little spoon and pressing your nose to the back of his neck. thankfully, sleep found you shortly after, your eyes fluttering shut as you drifted off into a much needed slumber. 

babe 

wake up 

babe

you woke up to small finger pokes to your cheek from megumi, his face laced with concern as your vision finally focused on his features. he bent over and pressed his lips to your forehead, pausing there for a fraction of a second and then standing back up. 

“i think you have a fever. i noticed when i woke up and you felt like a fucking space heater,” he frowned, confirming your initial suspicions from last night, “i’ll go get some medicine”.

you groggily nodded your head, shivers coursing through your body and dotting your extremities with goosebumps. your condition had definitely deteriorated overnight, your eyes stinging and a horrible nausea creeping up your throat. 

by the time he returned with the medicine you had yourself propped up against the pillows, thick blankets pulled up to your chin in an attempt to minimize the icy feeling in your body. he handed two small tylenol tablets to you with a disappointed look on his face — a look that said: i’m gonna kick your ass for not getting enough sleep again. 

“i’ll let everyone know you’re not feeling well enough to go out tonight,” he hummed as he handed you a glass of water, your brain filling with thick fog as you tried to decipher why he would need to let anyone know you were sick. 

the look of pure confusion signaled to him that you had no idea what he was talking about, megumi shaking his head before he spoke up again, “it’s your birthday, dumbass, we were supposed to get food and stuff with yuuji, inumaki, and nobara and maki”. 

birthday 

oh 

forgetting about that was another habit you continued to succumb to every year.

“mm, shit,” you sighed after drinking back the pills, “i forgot”. 

“figured you would,” megumi clicked his tongue, “but i didn’t, because i’m a good boyfriend. can you drag yourself out to the kitchen? you should eat”.

“don’t think so,” you mumbled, attempting to disappear back under the blankets before he could coerce you to follow him outside of the bedroom. 

but megumi is impossibly even more stubborn than you are, wrapping his arms under your body and lifting you to his chest, “guess i’ll just have to carry you then”. 

“fine,” you let out a long groan — was it a bit dramatic? maybe. but in your defense you felt like you’d been hit with a train.

he peppered your face with kisses as he carried you out of the bedroom, lovingly setting you down on one of the high bar stools around your kitchen table. he instructed you to stay in the chair, abruptly returning to the bedroom to bring out a couple blankets to wrap around your shoulders. you were grateful for the extra heat, you body still shaking and shivering as the medications worked to cure your fever. 

megumi was a man of few words, preferring to display his love for you through acts of service than grand confessions, and this was very eminent when he wordlessly grabbed a couple pots and began cooking for you. you let your face fall onto your arms, resting your chin as you watched him silently shuffle between the stove and the pantry. the silence was comfortable, and you weren't going to complain about watching your muscular boyfriend walk around the kitchen in nothing but a pair of loose, plaid pajama pants. 

a few minutes later he was placing a steaming bowl of soup and a couple slices of baked bread in front of you, a savory scent flooding your nostrils. 

“red lentil,” he spoke as he handed you a spoon, “it’s your favorite, so you better eat it”. 

“yes, sir,” you gave him a small smile, dipping the cool metal into the hot liquid and scooping a spoonful into your mouth. 

“all of it”

“yes, megumi, i will try”

to no surprise, the soup went down pretty fucking horribly, your head hanging low over the toilet while megumi held your hair out of the way. your throat was practically raw by the time you were done heaving and vomiting up the meal, your eyes brimming with hot tears. 

megumi tied your hair up in a neat bun so he could step away, filling up a glass with water and carefully helping you to take small sips and rinse out your mouth. he was tedious with the clean up, washing your face and helping you brush your teeth — ensuring that you felt the best you could given the situation. he then scooped you back into his arms, carrying you back to bed and profusely apologizing for making you eat the soup — but he was just trying to make you feel better, he really was doing his best.

you were ready to add today to your long list of terrible birthdays, chalking it up as another failed attempt, but megumi was not about to let that happen. he knew you had a rough history with birthdays, but now that he was here? you’d have a bad birthday over his dead body. 

he scoured the back of your fridge for ginger ale, gatorade, jello, and whatever else he could find to make you the perfect sick-person platter. and he made sure he was logged into every streaming service that the two of you collectively owned, preparing netflix, hulu, and crunchy roll so that he could easily access every single one of your favorite shows and movies. and so you spent the majority of your day tucked safely against megumi’s chest, forcing down small sips of ginger ale and watching an assortment of tv. 

your phone rang at some point — a facetime call from all of your friends who had gotten together so they could all wish you a collective happy birthday. megumi stuck a singular candle into a cup of blue-raspberry jello and ignited it with a small flame; and then they all sang the most terrible rendition of “happy birthday” that you’d ever heard, yuuji’s voice a little louder and little more out-of-tune than everyone else's.

you mustered enough energy to blow out the flame, everyone cheering while megumi shoveled a scoop of the blue jelly into your mouth. you swallowed it with a smile, praying it stayed down while everyone sent you off with an assortment of “feel better!”, “we love you!”, and “wish you were here!”

your night got pretty quiet after that, you and megumi climbing back under the covers to watch a few more episodes of your new favorite anime. it wasn’t until well into the night that he finally asked you if he could give you the presents he’d gotten for you. reluctantly, you said yes. you hated receiving gifts (it was just one of the many reasons you hated your birthday) but you knew that megumi wasn’t going to take no for answer. 

he was obviously nervous, palms sweaty as he handed you a couple neatly wrapped packages in plain, solid colored paper. they were very megumi, perfect folds with not a single crease, the paper simple yet elegant and adorned with a singular bow on top. 

you hesitantly peeled the paper off the smaller of the two, revealing a tiny box that contained a classic looking silver locket. you felt your heart pinch in your chest as you clicked the locket open and revealed two small pictures of each of the two of you. you weren’t particularly sentimental, but on top of your lack of sleep and not feeling very well, the simple gift caused few tears to well up in your eyes. but he was quick to wipe them away, insisting that you had to open the second gift first, and that birthdays weren’t meant for crying. 

you followed his instructions, ripping open the second package and revealing a larger box that contained a series of envelopes. each one was decorated with tiny doodles of you and megumi, his demon dogs, hearts, etc. they were sickeningly cute, and you immediately reached for the first one before megumi reached out and stopped you. 

“they’re not for now; they’re for when i’m gone, you know, on missions and stuff,” he could barely even maintain eye contact, his eyes dipping low as yours filled back up with tears. 

despite your lack of energy and the fever that was starting to return, you showered him in hugs and kisses after that, thanking him over and over for the most perfect gifts, and for making your day as wonderful as it could have been. 

all things aside, you were coming around to the idea that birthday’s don’t have to suck. 

bonus: the first letter: 

to y/n:

i know im not great at telling you what i have to say through words, actually, i’m kind of really bad at it. but i thought writing these might be a nice way to try and get better? i’m not sure. anyway, i guess i’ll start by saying that you mean a lot to me, and i probably miss you a lot right now (even though ill be too afraid to reach out and say it). not sure how long i’ll be gone for at the time but it’s probably a few days at least. gonna work hard so i can hurry back to see you. 

i hope you’re sleeping enough, but i know you’re not. you never do, especially when i’m not there to yell at you. i hope you’re eating enough too. but you’re probably also not doing that. you’re like taking care of a stubborn child, you know that? but this is supposed to be a love letter so i’ll try to refrain from scolding you too much. but do try to take care of yourself. ill see you soon. 

megumi

[ragingpancake]

How To Woo Your Scientist In 100 Cookies or Less

Rodney has a secret admirer. Prompt fic. See end of fic for prompt. ~1800 words.

The first time it appears is the morning after the ridiculous mission to M5-X847 (more accurately described as ‘Planet of the Bat-Shit Crazy Natives and Their Ridiculous Trading Ceremonies’ in the privacy of Rodney’s own mind and in the not-so-nearly private mess hall whenever anyone else brings it up). It’s left sitting on his desk by his absolute favorite computer on a folded up napkin from the mess hall, taunting him.

He’s still staring at it as if it holds the secrets to recharging a ZPM, the cure for male pattern baldness and the name of the man Carly Simon wrote a song about when John ambles in for his obligatory weekly hour of light switch duty.

“Ooh, cookie,” he says. Rodney smacks his hand away with a squawk of indignation.

“Mine!”

“Well, are you gonna eat it or just stare at it?”

Rodney settles for the latter while John unfairly makes Atlantis and all of her Ancient Tech roll over for him like the complete slut she is. Besides, he argues silently, it wouldn’t be the first time someone’s tried to kill him with baked goods. It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

Fifty nine minutes and fifty eight seconds later, John plucks the cookie off of the napkin and pops it into his mouth, crunching loudly and spewing crumbs everywhere.

“What did you do that for?” Rodney bellows.

“Just makin’ sure it was safe and citrus free,” John says with a toothy grin. “Next time, you’ll know. Cya later buddy,” he says and ambles back out of the room without a care in the world.

“Next time? How do you know there will be a next time?” Rodney yells after him. “How do you know?”

—-

There is, oddly enough, a ‘next time’. The next morning when Rodney stumbles into his lab, bleary eyed after a late night watching terrible movies and eating horrifyingly greasy food (thank you, Daedalus) with John, there’s another cookie sitting innocently on his desk, silently begging to be eaten. He’s still worried about the possibility of an assassination attempt but he rationalizes that no one is really going to use precious chocolate chips just to murder him so he lifts it up, sniffs it and then shoves it greedily into his mouth.

Less than hour later, he’s still alive and wishing he had another.

—-

By the fifth cookie, Rodney stops checking for the possibility of citrus-laced baked goods. Clearly, someone finally appreciates his genius and has decided the best way to thank him is to ply him with delicious sweet treats.

For once, Rodney doesn’t complain.

——

“Another one?” John asks, eying the 30th cookie longingly. “How many is that now?”

“I don’t know. I’ve lost count,” Rodney lies.

John just snorts in response.

——

“This is getting out of hand,” Kavanagh gripes. “How come we’re not allowed to eat around the computers, but he never says anything about that damn cookie appearing every morning? Why doesn’t Sh—”

Radek steps on Kavanagh’s foot and Miko’s elbow catches him in the side. Kavanagh squeaks and then miraculously falls silent.

Rodney eyes his scientists suspiciously “Why doesn’t who do what?”

“Nothing,” Radek says. “Is nothing but idiotic mumblings of a jealous man.”

“Jealous. Yeah, right,” Kavanagh snorts under his breath.

Rodney is still not convinced and he spends the rest of the day trying to bully Kavanagh into telling him exactly what’s going on.

Kavanagh is gleeful at the idea of knowing something that Rodney doesn’t.

—

“Hey Rodney?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you ever wonder who’s sending you cookies?”

Rodney eats the last bite of his cookie and glances over at John. “Not really, no. Don’t really care either, as long as they keep coming.”

“Oh.”

John goes back to touching uncatalogued Ancient tech while Rodney practically has oral sex with the left-over chocolate on his fingers. Rodney’s so caught up in his little delicious world that he doesn’t even notice when the device starts glowing in an ominous way.

“Uh… Rodney.”

Three seconds later, John’s unconscious on the floor and Rodney’s yelling into his headset for a medical team.

——

The next day, there is no cookie.

——

By the third cookieless day, Rodney decides that maybe Atlantis was the secret Cookie Fairy, because whoever it was is clearly pissed off that he almost killed John.

——

“I brought you something,” Rodney announces as soon as he palms the door to John’s room open. It’s the only room, other than his own that he’s ever been able to get into without resorting to screwing around with the crystals. He’s never questioned it, but now he’s grateful that John never had the urge to lock him out.

“Been stockpiling the goods from your Cookie Fairy?” John asks grumpily. Rodney cuts him slack because he knows he still has a killer headache from that damn piece of Ancient Tech.

“No,” Rodney says. “I uh, actually made these for you, and by ‘made these for you’, I really mean I bribed the kitchen staff with an extra ten minutes of hot water in the mornings but um, yeah. I got them. For you.”

John gives him an odd look and Rodney wonders if maybe there’s brain damage that Keller missed on the scans. Wouldn’t be the first time, he thinks bitterly.

“It’s just… you seemed to always be hanging around when I had my cookie and I uh… know that I wasn’t exactly willing to share with you even though I know chocolate chip is your favorite. But that’s not the point. The point… the point is… I screwed up that day. I should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and I wasn’t and I’m sorry and, and, and will you just say something and stop looking at me like that?”

John gives him a slight smile. “Thanks Rodney. You wanna watch a movie?”

For the first time since the cookies stopped coming, Rodney feels like he can breathe again.

——

The next morning, there’s still no cookie, though Rodney really didn’t expect there to be. He doesn’t even really care, because while he acquired the cookies for John the previous evening, he’s the one who ate almost the whole damn plate and if he never sees another chocolate chip cookie again, it’ll be too damn soon.

He has a lot of catching up to do because ever since John got hurt on his watch, he hasn’t exactly been able to concentrate on his work and damn if it hasn’t piled up already.

He powers up his computer and scowls at the stack of papers littering his workspace. Grabbing a handful, he flips through them and then discards them like the complete and utter trash they are. Kavanagh never could finish up the simplest of equations.

He’s just about to log in to the network with the corner of a piece of paper sticking from under his keyboard catches his eye. He frowns and pulls it out. The handwriting is vaguely familiar.

Meet me at the East Pier. 1800 hours. -Cookie Fairy

Rodney doesn’t know whether to be flattered or frightened. He just hopes that whoever the Cookie Fairy is, they’ve forgiven him as easily as John has.

——

The doors to the East Pier slide open with ease and Rodney can’t stop the nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach. The sun is already beginning to set in the Lantean sky, casting a gentle glow over the calm water. Leaning against the railing, there’s a familiar set of slouched shoulders and a crop of dark, messy hair.

“John?”

He turns and gives Rodney a nervous grin. “Hey buddy.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand. What are you… what are you doing here?”

He holds out the plate of chocolate chip cookies. “Uh… surprise?”

For once, the great Rodney McKay is completely speechless.

John clears his throat and shifts nervously from one foot to the next. He sets the plate of cookies down on the railing and rubs at the back of his reddening neck. “So I guess you… Uh, I guess this really isn’t what you were expecting.”

“No,” Rodney says dumbly, because he really wasn’t. Miko? Sure. Simpson? Maybe. But John Sheppard? John fucking Sheppard? Not in a million years. “Why?”

”M5-X847."

“The marriage ceremony? The one where they made you put stupid flowers in your hair and, and, and…”

“That’s the one.”

“But why?” Rodney asks, because he needs to know.

“Because I wanted it to be real,” John blurts out. His ears are absolutely flaming at this point and Rodney’s sure they’re going to spontaneously combust if they get any brighter. “I needed… I needed you to know and I didn’t know how to tell you so I…”

“You baked. For me.”

“Every day.”

“Until you got hurt.”

“Well, yeah. It was kind of difficult when standing long enough to get to the bathroom was a chore. I was… I wanted to tell you that day, but you didn’t… you said you didn’t want to know.”

“I was afraid it was Kavanagh or some other equally terrible person!”

“Why would Kavanagh bake you cookies?”

“I don’t know! If could have been part of some nefarious plan to clog my arteries and send me to an early grave via horrendous heart blockage!”

John just stares at him. “Seriously?”

“Hey, it could happen.”

“Rodney, shut up,” John says and then he’s suddenly there, his lips pressed to Rodney’s.

It’s wonderful and terrifying and so right.

Rodney makes a little noise of surprise against John before he relaxes into his the kiss, reaching up tentatively to card his fingers through his silly hair.

When they break apart, they’re both panting.

“Was that… was that okay?”

“I don’t know,” Rodney says. “I think… purely for research purposes, you understand, I’m going to need you to kiss me again.”

“No problem,” John says and he leans in to kiss Rodney again.

——

By the time they’ve finished kissing, they’re both shivering in the chilly night air. John’s hair is messier than usual and Rodney’s lips are red and swollen.

“Seriously though,” Rodney says, burrowing closer to John’s side as John drops an arm around his shoulders. “Cookies? Really?”

“I figured that at least when it came to you, the old saying was true. The way to your heart is definitely through your stomach.”

“So you thought you could woo me with cookies?”

“It worked though,” John says triumphantly.

Rodney grins. It worked.

“Hey, next time, you think you could do peanut butter?”

“Shut up, Rodney,” John says fondly

“Why don’t you make me?”

“My pleasure.”

Prompt

:One day you come into work and find a cookie mysteriously placed on your desk. Grateful to whoever left this anonymous cookie, you eat it. The next morning you come in and find another cookie. This continues for months until one day a different object is left--and this time there's a note.

[one-real-imonkey]

Well then,

How about.....some Commander Fox hurt/comfort? Bonus points if it involves cuddles

Oooo.

I love the Corrie Guard and they deserved better. So much better.

Enjoy...

———

Fox’s head ached.

It wasn’t unusual, he woke up with them a lot, a perpetual headache because there was always more to do and he definitely wasn’t sleeping or eating enough. Being common didn’t change that he wanted to bury his face back into the pillow, pull the covers over his head and sleep some more. The nightmares had been horrific last night, not that he’d woken from them, but they haunted the edges of his memories. Nightmares when his head was like this weren’t unusual either, or at least very strange dreams.

What was unusual was that he didn’t remember the journey from the Chancellors office to his bed.

How tired had he been?

“You were out late vod. Have fun?”

Stone was leant over him, waggling his eyebrows, but his own only scrunched in confusion, before he gently shoved his vod aside so he could sit up.

“I was?”

He hadn’t meant to ask, but he had no memory of going out. If he’d been that tired, why would he have gone out. He remembered the headache that had been building in the chancellor’s office, if it had become the migraine he was suffering the after effects of now, why had he gone out.

Headaches were the worst, but a headache that erased the memories of an entire evening... that was concerning.

He couldn’t remember ever experiencing anything like it, but then, why would he remember amnesia?

“Looks like. How drunk did you get?”

“I was drinking? I don’t remember.”

He supposed getting black out drunk could explain it. If he’d gone with the boys despite his headache to drink and relax, would probably leave him tired and headachy, but it just didn’t feel right.

“Vod, you ok? Want me to get Fix? He’s stingy with the hangover meds but...”

He pressed his hands into his eyes like it might take the headache away, even though he knew from experience it wouldn’t, then dragged his hands down his face and threw off the blanket.

Stone huffed and rolled his eyes, though he really should have been used to Fox’s stubbornness by this point, but he was glad his Vod’ika was there when his legs didn’t hold him up, catching him and helping him sit back down.

“Ohhhh Foxy can’t stand,” Thire called from the door to the showers, “must have been a good night.”

“How do you even know, vod’ike, the logs should be sealed.”

“Damn you really were drunk,” oh great, Hound too, “ori’vod, you stumbled in like 2 hours ago smelling of smoke and booze and walked into two bunks and Thires footlocker before stripping and passing out in bed. You don’t remember?”

2 hours sleep, no wonder he was tired.

But Hound was right, he was in his blacks with his armour scattered below him on the floor, and he did smell of booze and smoke, but... it still didn’t sit right.

He was missing something.

Well, his memories, but it was more than that.

Thire was still laughing, “When are we going to meet them?”

“Meet who?”

“Oh I see, playing it like that.”

Hound and Thire both smiled, but Stone was frowning next to him.

“I... I wasn’t out drinking with you?”

“You really don’t remember? Ori’vod, are you... I think maybe you should go to Fix.”

Yeah, Stone was definitely concerned.

“Wait, where’s Thorn?”

“He got called out to a fire on one of the lower levels, the fires out and now they’re saying it’s looking like some sort of holdout, he’s investigating.”

Grizzer hopped off of Hounds bed while he was talking and curled himself at Fox’s feet. He couldn’t help but scratch behind his ears while his vod finished his explanation.

There was something about that, about a fire and a firefight, that felt familiar. Not in a... not in an ‘it’s something we’ve faced before’ way, but... he didn’t know.

“A fire, a big one, when?”

“Last night, just after midnight I think. Least that’s when the call came in, but it might have been going for at least a little while before. Not the sort of area in the lower levels where civilians go, but apparently there were weapons catches and illegal booze and all sorts there. Looks like the start of some sort of insurgent group, or Seppie hideout, according to Thorn anyway.”

Before he’d returned then. Maybe that was it, he’d seen it while he was out, or on the news where he’d been drinking. A large fire would make the news, even if it was in a less populated area.

But who had he been out with. Not his vode here, there wasn’t anyone he was seeing, contrary to his vod’ike’s beliefs, Cody and Wolffe and Bly were all off world. Had he been drinking alone?

It didn’t matter, he needed a shower and to get ready. He was a good soldier, he couldn’t skip duties because he was hung over.

Grizzer whined quietly as he stood, but his vode didn’t try to stop him going to the shower, and it did him a lot of good, waking him up a little even if it did nothing to the pounding in his temple and stung at the now revealed chalk cuts and bruises across his torso.

Returning from the block in a towel, Thire passed him a pair of blacks and his armour had been sorted on his bed. All his vode were looking at the bruises he’d discovered on his chest and neck and shoulders, not awful or too painful but he didn’t like that he couldn’t remember their cause. Not one of them mentioned it though.

His vode were too good to him.

“Vod, you look like hell, you can take the day on light duty.”

“I can’t. I have a meeting with the Chancellor.”

“That’s alright, one of us can take it for you.”

‘Oh commander, don’t disappoint me, after all if you aren’t up to it, I’m sure one of your brothers can fulfil my needs.��

“No,” he answered almost too quickly, panic in his voice though he wasn’t entirely sure why, “no, it’s fine. I can do it.”

“Are you sure? You look three steps from collapsing. Hound can...”

“Grizzer growls at the Chancellor every time. Hound isn’t going to the meeting. I am.”

“If you pass my test.”

He spun to the other door, where Fix, their medic, was standing. He blinked a few times as the world spun, and his vode used his slight dizziness to guide him to his bed.

“I don’t need this vod.”

“Stone said you had no memories at all of last night and a headache. That could be more than just alcohol and it’s protocol I check. You’re my vod and I’m worried about you. Not to mention those bruises.”

Grizzer hopped up this time, lying across his lap and keeping him pinned. Judging from Hounds smile, this was doing the Mastiff had been trained to do. He huffed at the prick of the needle and waited for the scanners to work, while Fox’s frown deepened.

Last night. What had happened last night?

Why couldn’t he remember?

“What in the...?”

“Vod?”

“Fox... you have no drugs in your system. Or alcohol. You show no sign of a concussion. What were you doing last night?”

A crash, a splash and he was drenched, the whoosh of flame igniting, blasters firing, something colliding with his chest, his own blaster in his hands... it was all so vague, so... so close but so far at the edge of his consciousness.

He flinched away from the thoughts, from his attempts to remember, as the throbbing at his temple grew to near blinding pain.

“I... I don’t know.”

Stones arms wrapped around him, Grizzer whined, Thire and Hound manoeuvred their way to the bed to join Stone in the hug.

He had a meeting with the Chancellor that afternoon, and his head stung at the thought.

Grizzer whined again and nuzzled in and his Vode’s arms tightened around him.

Something had happened last night, but he didn’t know what.

He was scared to find out.

———

Sorry this took so long to write, it got a little away from me and also I got distracted by a puzzle. Lamo.

I loved this prompt. Poor Fox, being mind controlled like that. But then, Palpatine had to make sure the chips worked. (Cough cough Fives death cough) and they were close to him at all times.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.

Inbox is always open. :-)

[bmwiid]

This is going to be a very weird and neiche post about disability and advice and... like, probably not great for some people cause... I dunno. general warnings and angst in my real life warnings?

Also... like... I'm very, very aware of how much I sound like a bitch and an abuser. I'm trying to be honest and I'm not good at it, but I have to vent this or I'll... I dunno. I feel like if I don't get this shit out of me I'll go to bed and just not wake up. so... warnings?

Today I got a call around 12pm from mums carers. She's split her juice over herself in bed and they've stripped the bed, but she's sitting in her wheel chair and she's 'bouncing'.

I don't know what the medical term is cause no one ever bothered to look into it other than: it's not a seizure it's more like narcolepsy but it's not quite that either so meh?

To describe: mum twitches. enough to throw things. she also has mini blackouts, where she'll just... go unconscious for a few seconds. put those two together with a high level of confusion and sometimes 'dreams' (I don't think they are dreams, I think they are hallucinations, because she thinks they are real sometimes, but mum calls them dreams) and you get what we call: Bounces.

Because she looks like she... bounces? in her chair.

So she's real bouncy today, and they are worried, but they also have other people on the run and they don't know what to do, so I leave work and go to mums.

She's bad today. She asks for a drink, which I pour her, and she twitches and explodes a glass over the floor, and herself. I clean her up, she's in a wheelchair so I'm not worried about glass on her feet or anything, but she's taken her pills and needs water to swallow. Another glass hits the floor, legit explodes (I don't know if anyone has ever dropped an Ikea glass on tile but it shatters like Pyrex, it's pretty cool)

I manage to 'feed' her water by holding a glass and lifting it to her lips. during this she almost drowns because she 'bounces' while swallowing.

I move her into the livingroom and give her a cup with a lid and straw (plastic) and start to clean the kitchen of lemonade and glass.

I go back through after 5/10 mins, and shes... bounced again, and now her plastic cup is upside down and juice is pouring out of the straw and...

I'm kinda done. I don't want to make this about me. But also, it IS about me.

This is the third day in a row I've had to talk to carers and nurses and I've got a headache that will not quit and now I have what is essentially a toddler - she's not talking other than garbled words but she understands what I'm saying. She's twice my weight (and I'm not a small enby, people) and I can't do SHIT.

I leave her, bouncing, with the tv on so she's not 'alone' and when I go she's laughing along to Stephen Colbert and I'm over it.

I go to ASDA, I buy three sippy cups. One is like a flask with a straw that flips, one is a weird cup with a silicone top and I have no idea how it works, and one is a straight up sippy cup. With hooked handles and an elephant on it. I know she'd rather DIE than use it.

My plan is: I want her to use the flask and the 'non drip, non spill' blue cup with the weird silicone lid. She will not use this, because she's a fully grown woman, and she's got standards. However, if the other option is an actual BABY BOTTLE... she'll concede that the cup thing is better. If you want someone to pick option B, make sure option A is the fuckin worst.

I also swing by the local greggs because I need to feed her, and she's pickier than I am able to describe, so legit nothing else will work.

I get back to mums, and she's watching tv still, kinda. She asks me if I can get her something to eat when I go to the shops. It takes her about 10 minutes to ask.

I am now magic, as I produce the greggs bags. I hand her the food, and go to wash the new cups (and figure out how this blue one works). When I go back through, she's got the chicken bake all over her hands and face, but she seems to be eating it, mostly. kinda. She's happier though, as she mushes it around.

I show her the new cups I bought, and, as planned, her face is a fuckin picture when she sees the baby sippy cup. She actually recoiled. I show her how the blue cup works (it's actually really cool! I like it a lot! if you have kids who drop stuff, or adults this is the link, I got the one without handles so it looks like a blue plastic cup with lid) and it takes a couple of minutes, but she finally gets how to use a cup designed specifically for toddlers, but whatever. She bounces and the cup lands on her lap but doesn't spill. I'm already impressed, but it hit the floor a few seconds later and it's just the tiniest splash so... I highly recommend. I use a wet wipe to clean her face and hands, but whats the point, really? She squeezes the cheese and onion bake and it bursts over her hands, but she's fine, it's cold now - it won't burn her or anything. I sit on the floor and watch her smush food into her mouth. She forgets I'm still here, laughs along with the tv. she's already forgotten how to use the blue cup, and struggles to drink. I offer help and scare her. She forgot I was here.

Now, I know, if you are disabled, and you read this, I sound like the WORST fucking person you'll ever meet. I'm sorry. I'm at the end of my rope and I can't keep this up. She's my MUM. I love her more than I've ever loved anyone in this world and she's... a toddler.

She's a toddler twice my size. She's a toddler I have no training to manage. I'm not a nurse. I'm not a carer. There is a REASON we have carers, people who have that ability to look after others.

And this is my mum. I love her. I really, honestly, love her.

But she's also NOT a toddler. In a couple of days, she'll be a 63 year old who can talk and look after herself (mostly) and no amount of 'difficult conversations' will make her understand just how bad she gets. How no one on the care team is able to stay with her all day while she is bouncing. I can't do it, not if I want to keep my job, my house. She'll understand, to a certain level. She'll be upset and ashamed and embarrassed... but she won't do anything.

She won't go into a home. She won't move into assisted living. I can't afford a full time carer and the council doesn't have that option. She'll promise she'll 'try harder' which is... not possible. It's not like she wants to be like this, so how will she be ABLE to try harder?

She's not a toddler. She's an adult who I love and respect. I cannot force my mum into a care home. She'd never forgive me. Never.

I just don't know what to do. I'm tired. I'm stressed. I'm upset and I don't have anyone other than my mum, and 50% of the time now, I don't even have her.

my guilt legit feels like it's EATING me.

And I have to go back to work. I've missed 3 hours.

I log back in, take a call. The angry, upset and crying woman on the other side tells me I don't understand. asks me "how I can work for a company that treats people like this" asks me if my mother is proud.

I take a breath. I remember my mum braggin about my good job and my bought house and my paid off car.

I left her smushing food over her hands and drinking out of a sippy cup.

I do my job.

[survey--s]

35.

How are you today? Really good, actually. I feel accomplished and relaxed and just all-round happy.  What was the last thing you purchased that made you happy? A huge box of wax melts lol. Mike got me a voucher for £50 worth of melts for my birthday and I ordered them two weeks ago. I got like 25 different scents as I had a discount code too. I won’t need to order more for months. What color is the hoodie you wear the most? It’s a burgundy zip-up one. I only wear hoodies for work though. Do you have a headache right now? I do not. What was the name of your first roommate? Her name was Kirsty. When was the last time you ordered a pizza? About two years ago I think? Our local pizza place is awful so I only order pizza if I’m staying with my parents. Do you have a Christmas tree up? No, as our cats will climb it and knock all the ornaments off so it just causes more work than anything else. If we had kids it would be different, of course. What was the latest big thing that happened in your current city? I can’t think of anything major that’s happened in our small town. Do you have blinds or curtains? Curtains. They feel cosier to me. What is your favorite pizza parlor? To eat in, Zeffirellis. For takeaway, The Sourdough Pizza Co. How old are you? I’m 33 years old.   What is the meaning of your name? I have no idea and I don’t really feel like googling it. How often do you play games on your phone? Everyday, but sometimes I just log into them to get daily bonuses and stuff but I don’t necessarily play them. What was the last thing you cooked on the stove? Uhh, I honestly couldn’t tell you. Bacon, maybe? Our stove is old and temperamental so I try not to use it unless it’s necessary. What grocery store do you shop at? Tesco or Morrisons. Occasionally ASDA if we’re nearby.   What are you allergic to, if anything? Nothing. Have you ever had to use an epi pen? No, thankfully not. I know how to use one if necessary, though! Do you write in a diary or journal? This is pretty much it. You’re looking at it.   Have you felt bored today? Nope, relaxed and content is more like it. I rarely get bored, though, there’s always something to do. What was the last medication that you took? Ibuprofen. Do you know the names of at least 3 of your neighbors? Yes. Steph, Dot and Barry. What are three things that you would like for Christmas? A riding hat and boots, Fat Face vouchers.  Do you post videos on TikTok? No, I’ve never seen the appeal of TiKTok. Do you have neat handwriting? Yeah, everyone has always told me I have lovely handwriting. What was the last YouTube video you watched? I’m currently watching a programme about the world’s toughest prisons on there. I only ever use YouTube to watch TV shows I can’t find elsewhere.

[qvid-pro-qvo]

fuck, marry, kill

aos!leonard mccoy x female!reader, who’s a nurse on the starship enterprise. 

word count: 5885

rating: explicit (workplace sex, at the end, for fun.) 

part one of more than a game, you and me.

A silly game from your academy days gets interrupted, leaving you to think over how you really feel about the great Dr. McCoy. 

“Goddammit, bastard, son of a fucking bitch,” you hissed, shaking your hand after yanking it back from the control panel next to your shower. It had the gall to shock you, one that rippled down your arm and almost made your other hand drop the towel you clung to for decency. Somehow the same steady hands that could wield a pair of hypodermics and a tricorder without thinking about it managed to break every other piece of equipment on the Enterprise.

A year since you got transferred, a year since the last major headache, and you had managed to build up a routine. Waking up to beta shifts until the six-month mark when you transferred to alpha shifts that gave you more to do without the headaches of fighting artificial daylight. Crew physicals and routine exams for viruses carried onboard from earth until all the crew had been cleared. Lunches six hours in, dinner six hours after that, followed by a jog, some yoga, a shower, and then… repeat.

It was a good routine. One that made you friends with other nurses in blue and engineers in red and a few on the captain track who came in more often because of their proximity to the action. You could now say “hello” to Sulu and “good morning” to Chekov and other niceties to a couple other officers. And they’d smile back, and all in all nothing was disrupted. Your routine kept you going.

But now, that routine was stopped in its tracks.

With a little huff, you shook your head. Fortunately for you, your connections through routine hypos and the occasional healing after a scuffle gave you one particularly good friend. One who was very good at fixing up the Enterprise in any state she was in. And because of your clumsiness and tendency to get shocked, that friend was simply a comm unit away. Decency first, of course.

“Y/N to Scotty.”

“Aye, lass, Scotty here.”

A sigh of relief that he wasn’t on break, or worse, sleeping. That’d been a bear you wouldn’t want to disturb more than once. Your fingers tapped away, allowing his voice to fill the room rather than sound tinny coming from the communicator and your hands to hunt for a shirt.

“Yeah, we’ve got a situation. My shower isn’t working?”

“Is that right,” the chief engineer replied, and you could tell by his voice that under the amusement there was distraction. Your problem was not the only one on his plate, then. Or at the very least, not his main focus.

“Yeah, that’s right. Shocked me, as a matter of fact, when I tried to get it going.”

“Mmm.” Make that a lot of distraction.

“Scotty?”

“Yeah, lass?”

“Can you come fix it?”

“Fix what?”

With a soft sigh you pulled your shirt over your head, shaking out your hair before pulling it up into something passable for company.

“My shower, Scott. Y’know, again, the one that shocked me. That’s not turning on. That shower.”

“Shocked you? Well, this is the first I’m hearing about it,” he scoffed, indignant, and your eyes went wide with disbelief before you heard his chuckle.

“Oh, so I’m the entertainment for this evening, then,” you muttered with a scowl, scrounging around for the pants you just had on and the regulation zip-up you could walk around the halls in.

“Of course, Y/L/N,” he retorted. “I was wondering when the next time you’d call was. After all, it’s been, what, almost a week since our last incident with the replicator, hasn’t it been?”

“Two weeks, thank you,” you snapped, the pants snatched off the floor and shaken out with a vengeance. One foot began making its way inside the leg of the pants, the other hopping on the floor. “Monty, please, I just got off shift, I’m tired, and I’m sweaty, and there were three cases of Takarian bronchiolitis that we had to treat with airborne precautions. Never mind next week’s also Christine’s birthday, who I love with all of my heart but the party I got roped into planning for, of fucking – agh!”

“Y/N!”

Bouncing on one leg could only last for so long, of course. Your head thankfully did not contact anything with a hard surface. Your ass, however, got the brunt of the blow, specifically your tailbone.

“Y/N?”

When you groaned, you heard the relief, as well as the stifled laughter.

“Can you just please come fix my shower? I think there’s an analgesic hypo with my name on it back in the med bay.”

-

Of course, you weren’t one to completely bypass the rules. The Enterprise had enough of that in places other than the medical unit, and your chief medical officer, Dr. McCoy, was a stickler for right and wrong and lines that shouldn’t be crossed. So, your hypodermic needle was checked out by Christine, administered by her, and all logged and dated with a note about the situation. And, because your appointment didn’t technically end for another fifteen minutes, there was enough time for a little bit of gossip.

Your type of news always was the kind of shit that got the whole crew talking. The next adventure, who was sleeping with who, the drama that came out of confessions when the ship was falling apart. Anything to work through the monotony. But Christine’s favorite topic was almost always you, much to your chagrin.

“You know I don’t have a love life,” you said with a roll of your eyes, sitting up on the biobed and letting your feet dangle off of the edge. “That hasn’t changed in the three days since you asked me last.”

“I do know you’re at the very least no fun about it,” she responded with an eye roll, fingers tracing over your vitals the bed collected and reported. “There’s hundreds of people on this ship, and you’re telling me that none of them catch your eye? What about the chief engineer?”

Immediately your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help the laugh that left you. “Scotty? No. No, no, we’re just friends, aggressively friends. He keeps me around because I’m the only one who gives him stuff to do during the night shifts. Without me breaking lightbulbs it’d be too dull.”

Of course, her eyebrow crept up in suspicion, but when your gaze held steady, she dropped her eyes, waving a hand like the idea was preposterous anyway.

“All right. So, no Scotty. Any ensigns?”

“No.”

“Lieutenants?”

“No.”

“Cadets?”

“Oh, my god, Christine,” you gasped out with a laugh, jumping off of the biobed, smacking her on the arm.  “Stop it.” Your eyes glanced around the med bay, but just like every beta shift began, it was pretty damn quiet. Not a soul in sight besides the two of you. “There’s no one.”

“Well, you’re no fun,” she sighed, pushing off of the wall to meet you nose to nose. “But there’s gotta be someone who at least catches your eye, right?”

“Chris…”

“Someone on this ship you’d be willing to fuck – “

“No, we’re not – “

“- marry, maybe – “

“Christine, I swear to god – “

“- or kill?”

Again, your eyes darted around, but at that point the game had been called. A throwback to your time in the academy, when your classmates would find the local bars and a booth to heckle each other in. When passersby would be unknowingly subjected to a game based on nothing but good fun, and usually a whole lot of booze.

Simple premise. Three names called out. Each gets a label, and the rounds continue until the players decide they’ve had enough. Called anywhere, at any time, and Christine had thrown the gauntlet.

“You’re on duty,” you pointed out, but you leaned back on the biobed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“And if there’s a patient I’ll tend to them. But you’ve got nowhere to be, and if I have a say we’re finding someone on this ship for you,” she pointed out, before swiping your scans away from the vicinity and joining you on the bed. “Three rounds. I bet you I can do it in three rounds.”

With an eye roll you proceeded to glare at her, but her grin did not budge once, and with a sigh you just nodded.

“Perfect. Why don’t we start with a throwback? Old classmates? Harrison, Twyla, and Betty.”

Your smile crept up on your face, and without a second thought you rattled it off. “Fuck Twyla, marry Harrison, kill Betty. Obviously.” Considering that two of the three weren’t even on the ship, you knew that it was more a warmup than anything. Lots of pretty people at the Starfleet Academy.

“All right. And then… oh, what about the bridge crew?”

“Christine,” you groaned, hand smacking over your face. “We’re in public.”

“There’s no one here, and you can’t chicken out of the second round! Look, we’ll do… Lieutenant Sulu, Lieutenant Uhura, and Ensign Chekov.”

Your jaw clenched. Forget about saying hi to Sulu ever again.

“I would… I would…”

“C’mon. You can say it, Y/N.”

“Fine, fine!” But you couldn’t help your laughter as you shoved Christine’s arm again. “I would… I would fuck Uhura, marry Sulu, and – “

“And kill Chekov? He’s got a baby face! You’re gonna kill him where he stands!”

“Christine, this is not real life,” you reminded her with a hiss, shaking your head before beginning to walk towards the door. “I’m leaving before I end up having to resign.”

“Oh, no! We’ve got one more go.”

“I’m walking. My tailbone doesn’t even hurt anymore. The miracle of modern medicine.”

“Y/N!”

“What?”

“Captain Kirk.”

“No, Christine.”

“Commander Spock.”

“Stop!”

“And Dr. Mccoy!”

“What about me?”

Your heart stopped.

“Nurse Y/L/N, is that right?” Dr. McCoy, the man himself, stated, raising a brow as he moved into the med bay, boxes stacked up in his hand. Christine did the smart thing, moving forward to help the doctor carry them inside, but your feet were cemented to the floor, mouth a little agape, color flooding your cheeks.  

“Y-Yes! Hello, sir, I was just – uh, I was just –“ you stammered, turning to follow them both with your eyes as their load was dropped on one of the biobeds. “Well. I was just leaving, really.”

“She had an appointment,” Christine offered, her best and most polite smile on for your shared boss, who seemed too tired to do more than nod. “And we were just discussing… shifts?”

“Shifts.” Again, Dr. McCoy’s brow raised, and with skilled fingers he reached to slide them along the seam, a hiss sounding out as they opened up, bearing unloaded hypodermics, some bandaging supplies.

“Shifts.” Your voice was weak as you confirmed it, but while his eyes were down Christine gave you a subtle nod, winking even as you scowled at her. “You see, I was just – I was just wondering if I could take the beta shift next week, and… well. That’s a change I need you to sign off on. Dr. M’Benga and dr. Olson didn’t have a preference when I asked them.”

“Uh-huh,” was the gruff response, and as his fingers reached up to scratch at his chin, something like amusement seemed to play in his eyes. Although, thinking about it, you reasoned it was probably just the exhaustion and the lights in the med bay you saw instead. “So, you scheduled an appointment with Christine and my medbay, takin’ up one of the biobeds here, to talk about shift changes?”

“No. No, no, it wasn’t just about that,” you got out, more heat rising to your cheeks, and thankfully your feet were moving backwards, towards the door, as their hands slid into gloves and prepped the new cargo for treatment.

“She… took a spill in her quarters. Needed an analgesic. I did a scan to make sure it wasn’t anything more than a bruised tailbone and then gave her a dose of lidocaine for the area and acetaminophen for the pain.” Of course, Christine could chime in, sounding composed, while you had just managed to regain motor functioning.

“I see,” McCoy responded, and there was a brief moment where you were sure he was gonna call your bluff. You didn’t even remember right away that there was a hypo-stick in the first place, and the lidocaine definitely did not happen, right? But then, something, almost like a smirk washed over his features. They relaxed, and those eyes lit up again, deep and dark and warm. It was like taking a shot of whiskey, the sour leaving behind something that made your breath catch.

“You know you could just say you fell on your ass, Nurse Y/L/N.”

The stories about Dr. McCoy in a nutshell. No southern charm, just a sweet Georgian gut punch. Humor hiding in the comment, of course, but at that point your embarrassment made it taste pretty damn bitter.  

Thankfully, though, the moment was gone. The smirk vanished, the exhaustion seemed to settle over him like a blanket, and his eyes glanced toward you once again before shrugging. “beta shift works for me. Just don’t let it screw with your head too much and find someone who’s willing to trade.”

“That’s… yes. Well - good night, sir,” you got out, biting your lower lip, bowing your head before shooting another glare at Christine. “Good night, Nurse Chapel, and I’ll see you both… when I see you.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Christine called out, and the good doctor managed a hum of acknowledgement, his attention already pulled away from your retreating form. And if there was a second glance at you, it was nothing more than confirmation that the night was back to peace and quiet.

-

“I am never going to recover from this.”

“Mmm,” Scotty ground out, his arm elbow deep into the guts of the Enterprise.

“I mean it, Monty!” You cried out, back flat on your bed, arm thrown across your face but leaving your mouth wide open to complain. “Jesus Christ and now I’ve gotten myself roped into beta shifts, ready to be bored out of my skull for a whole damn week. He thinks I’m an idiot. An idiot and insane!”

“D’you think?” Was the reply, but the lack of attention didn’t bother you one bit. You were barely paying attention.

No, your head was running wild, with the fear that the greatest job you had, the job you were best at, was now at risk because of some dumb game you played with Christine. What if Dr. McCoy had heard all of it? What if he had just walked in because he had heard enough, and then you’d get called into his office, not a smirk in sight, and request your resignation? Could he do that? Off of a conversation?

“Y/N!” Scotty called out, and that’s what finally broke your spiral downward, your body shooting up to a sitting position, looking up to see Scotty staring out of the bathroom at you. Your water was running, you could hear it, and Scott was grinning from ear to ear, some kind of tool tucked behind his ear.

“All fixed,” he crowed with joy, brushing his hands off on his uniform. When he leaned on the doorway, his eyes were gazing around the rest of the place, as if it was just waiting to break on him, too. “computer, shut down the shower. Now, what were you saying, lassie? Somethin’ about our chief medical officer, yes?”

And as Scott smiled at you, no recognition of your crisis in him, you just smiled back, standing up to give him a hug. Even without saying anything, he had the best ideas.

“Nothing, Monty. Thanks for the fix.”

He was hustled out a few moments later, after a playful argument taking bets on what piece of machinery in this poor room would fall apart next (he was a fan of the faulty replicator, but you had a gut feeling it’d be the temperature control). But soon he was out of the room, and you knew that ignoring the whole thing would be the best option.

Except with Christine, ignorance was never an option for bliss. When your padd beeped, and then your communicator, you were forced to answer the message, looking to see a little smiley face emoticon with a message that left your heart falling to the floor.

“Your answer? :)”

Your answer? For the game? After all of that and Christine had the gall? But you could see her smile, even from this far, a smile that made you smirk.

But they were the rules, and so the question was left in your head. What was your answer? What were the options?

You thought about it as you started to get ready for bed, t-shirt set on the counter in the bathroom, hot shower started. Your hair was put up before you stripped, your face splashed with water and a towel as steam began to fill the room.

“Captain Kirk.” No personal experience with him, but you, like everyone on the ship, had seen him around. Had heard the legends. There wasn’t a soul who didn’t seem stricken by the love bug when it came to him, blond hair perfect, smile bright, blue eyes startlingly, well, blue. Friendly, quick, brave. He was the perfect man. But not everyone knew Christine. Christine, who’d had the lovely interaction with Cadet Kirk, at the time, who ended up kicking him out of your shared dorm room after a bad argument gone bad. The air was cleared enough that he managed to get polite smiles from her, but after that captain kirk never had the appeal. He was a playboy. His nature, his right, you supposed. But not for you.

“Commander Spock.” Tall, handsome. But very Vulcan, and very taken. Now, you knew he had to have some kind of sweet side, and there was something, you guessed, about the confidence that his reliance on logic seemed to convey. After all, you’d heard him lecture a few times, and if you were honest that would’ve been when you were most attracted to him – using his knowledge and logic and proud spirit to lead others on the path toward serving the federation. But there was only so far that logic and a lack of emotion could go, and even though you’d heard of outbursts occurring where his emotion made their mark? No. Arguments aplenty.

And who did that leave?

“Dr. McCoy.”

At that point, you still hadn’t entered the shower, and the computer was telling you that the water was about to automatically turn off to preserve the function of the ship’s supply, but your head was no longer in your bedtime ritual, instead thinking about the mysterious Dr. Mccoy, the infamous Dr. McCoy.

The Dr. McCoy that made nurses cry every so often from his outbursts – never violent but fierce, always due to the protectiveness he had for his patients. The Dr. McCoy who was a doctor before he even became a cadet, with enough knowledge to fill a few books. The Dr. McCoy who had smirked at you with those dark and deep eyes, brown and full with some kind of life as he... Well, teased, southern accent lilting just a bit, maybe? That Dr. McCoy? The Dr. McCoy who saved lives and healed and always, always, always fought for more healthcare, for more hypos, for more protections for the nurses who somehow, even in the 24th century, managed to get pushed to the wayside?

When you stepped in the shower, it took a second for your fingers to bang at the control panel, your legs held together, and with a quick setting manipulation the steam quickly cleared, the water’s temperature dropping to ice cold. You were in, and you were out, but by the time you had dressed and brushed your teeth color had crept on your cheeks again.

All you could see were those eyes.

“Fuck.”

-

“Ah, Nurse Y/L/N,” the doctor said, eyes barely looking up from the singed hands of the red-shirt in front of him. “I need dermatological regen started here and a full body scan initiated on the biobed two over.”

Like nothing had even happened. Like your nightmare interaction two weeks ago hadn’t resulted in you unintentionally taking night shifts, resulting in a fucked up circadian rhythm and bags under your eyes, not to mention hours bored out of your skull.

Christine wasn’t here, and for once you were grateful. The last thing you needed was her eyes on you as you maneuvered around the doctor for a new shift while exhaustion lingered in the back of your mind. But it also meant that there was no one to offer a united front. Just you.

“Nurse Y/L/N?”

And you just spent the past minute mulling all of that in your mind. Making yourself look like a dumbass in front of the doc and his patient. The patient hadn’t noticed, staring at his own hands in horror, but Dr. McCoy seemed like he was regretting letting you back on to handle days.

Shit.

“You got it, doc,” you managed with a kind smile at the engineer, whose face you could now see as you walked past him toward the wall. Your hands expertly manipulated to storage system, and with the tricorder kept at your waist you gathered the necessities.

The great thing – you were damn good at what you did. Especially when you could focus on it. Your face was bright, uniform neat (until it wasn’t due to fluids of some kind), and your hands were steady. And no complicated patients came in that day, especially since no away missions were sent out and nothing malfunctioned horribly deep within the ship’s bowels.

And yet, no matter what you did, no matter how competent you showed you were, no matter how many laughs or smiles or even nods from the most stubborn of usual patients? Eyes were on you. Dark, deep eyes. The whole day, no matter where you went, a furrowed brow and focused tailed you, watching your interactions.

All in all, a good day. A great day, even, as you injected your last hypo and the padd reported a normal set of vitals, no reaction to the medication after fifteen minutes.

The shift was over, now. It was a good shift, one that required no personal defense. You gave report to the next nurse, said goodbye to the others on-duty. Your jacket put on, your hair pulled down and back up after the frizz of the day had ruined it. Nothing really to note.

So why did the doctor not let you out of his sight?

The rest of the week, the same routine. The flow you had gotten into on alpha shifts returned, and your week of off nights was left behind in favor of much better mornings. Back on track, the same old, same old. And yet with every shift there was a new weight, those eyes on you. It felt like if he wasn’t tending to a patient, and he wasn’t in his office in the back of the bay, he was watching you. Critical of every injection and admission. You were starting to go a little crazy with it, your mind going a million miles an hour, second guessing the simplest stuff just so you wouldn’t fuck up in front of the CMO.

But after a while, the fear of failure turned into anger.

What right did the doctor have to analyze like that? You were a great nurse! You treated your patients and coworkers fairly, with respect and compassion. What was there to complain about? You knew your shit, and here was McCoy, looking like the Enterprise regretted your assignment there in the first place. By the end of the week, that anger had built up, and once the weekend rolled around, and your two off days in a row loomed, you decided you were done.

“Is there something on my uniform, Dr. McCoy?” You asked, terse as you organized the vaccine cart, the new year meaning new yearly injections to follow up on.

His fingers had been steadily scrolling through files of crew members, but their nimble work paused at your question. His eyes had taken a break from tearing you apart, but now they were focused on you once again.

“Excuse me, Nurse Y/L/N?” He asked, his face looking almost pinched.

“I was just wondering if there was something on my uniform. Or in my teeth, perhaps. Something in my hair, maybe, too.” Your hands kept chugging along, automatically rearranging the colored liquids, but there was a tightness you couldn’t shake, a tension.

“Something in your hair?” The doctor repeated, and at his tone, somewhat amused, you finally turned to face him, your brow raised in a mimic of his.

“Well, there’s gotta be something, considering that you haven’t gone five minutes without staring at me like I’m your least favorite sight in the world. So, what is it? Uniform out of regs? Did I administer a medication wrong? Did a patient complain?”

At that point, the amusement had turned to indignation, maybe even anger. His jaw was clenched, and the padd in his hands had been abandoned on the desk in favor of crossed arms over his chest.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, nurse,” he ground out, eyes flicking around the med bay. But there was no one to look at. No one to distract or overhear.

You couldn’t help your laugh. “Oh, I think you do,” you snapped, and almost mocking him, your arms crossed as well, a hip cocked, your eyes like daggers. “Ever since I came back on alpha shift, you’ve been doing all you can to catch me in a fuck-up. Well, it’s not happening! I’m damn good at what I do, and no amount of posturing, even from the CMO, would ever change that!”

His scoff was hard, arms uncrossing so a hand could pull through his hair in disbelief. “darlin’,” he said, slowly, as if you were dense, “There’s no posturing going on. Your abilities aren’t being doubted. Hell, I don’t even know your first name. Whatever story you’ve got going on in your head? It’s a story!”

His frustration showed through his accent, a southern drawl that got thicker as his sentences rambled on. But that couldn’t distract you from calling him out on his bullshit, no matter his position.

“I’m not senile,” you huffed, eyes rolling hard, and your steps closer were unconscious, crowding him against the desk he was leaning on now. “And I’m definitely not blind. So, tell me what your problem is with me, so I can go back to focusing on my job, and you can go back to focusing on yours!”

“There’s no damn problem!” His voice was almost a yell now, but you had no fear, and you sure as hell weren’t backing down. “It’s nothing. Hell, there isn’t anything to be nothing.”

And then it clicked, it clicked, as you stared into brown eyes that wavered for a second, that scanned you top to bottom in a split second. A break, a tell, whatever it was, the pieces were put together, and you stood tall, not letting his height on you intimidate.

“You overheard me and Christine, didn’t you?” It was low. “Is that what it is?”

“Overheard.” The clench in his jaw hadn’t loosened, but you watched that brow tick upwards again, his arms uncrossing so his hands could rest on the desk.

“When you walked in on us, last week,” you clarified. “You overheard our game.”

The anger was gone now. Now that everything had slotted into place, you weren’t angry. A little bit embarrassed maybe, but not angry. Frustration felt like it was leaking out of you, but the tension wasn’t gone. The standoff wasn’t broken. And after all of what, you had just yelled at your superior officer.

“Dr. McCoy,” you started, uncrossing your arms, and holding them up to offer a truce. “I apologize. For yelling. That… well, it shouldn’t have been my first move. But. I can explain, if you want me to.”

There was no verbal reply, but his exasperation came through with a huff, and he simply lifted a hand, gesturing for you to go on.

“It’s just a game we’ve played since the academy. It was inappropriate to play while Christine was on shift. I apologize for that as well,” you told him pulling back to glance once more at the sliding doors, which mercifully stayed closed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Just a game,” he repeated, and at first you didn’t catch the shift in his tone. Didn’t connect it with the glance toward the doors, or the way he stood from the desk, so that you were almost close enough to brush against him. “Just a game… using the names of your captain, commander, and chief medical officer?”

“Yes,” you said, shaking your head. “I’m sorry for that, as well, that definitely won’t be happening again.”

“A game talkin’ about who you’d rather have in your bed.”

Your eyes shot back to him, color flooding your cheeks.

“I’m… I’m sorry?”

“Well, that’s the game, isn’t it?” He said with a shrug, and as he leaned forward you could feel your breath catch in your throat, looking up into a face you imagined in your own quarters in the dead of night, as you let steaming water hit your skin. His jaw wasn’t clenched anymore, and his voice was a low rumble.

It wasn’t a threat. But it gave you goosebumps all the same, that the bass of his words, and you managed to nod, swallowing even as you kept your chin lifted.

“That’s the game. Is there a problem?”

And God, there was that smirk. Warm like whisky, it made your hands clench, your legs shift as that warmth rushed through you.

“No problem at all,” he hummed, and as he leaned close those lips brushed past your cheek. You could smell his cologne now, spice flooding your nose, the antiseptic of the day fading away. The chill in the air that always seemed to linger was gone, nothing but heat on your mind. Right in your ear you heard him, after a low chuckle that made you want to scream, beg him to get on with it. “I guess I’ve just been wondering what you would’ve answered, had I not… interrupted.”

Lunchtimes were surely coming to an end. Any second a patient could come in, could see the both of you crowded against the desk and know exactly why the whole place felt like an oven. But something possessed you, then, to bring one of your hands to his shoulder, the other to his hip, and lean just as close, almost pushing up on your toes to whisper right back.

“Give you one guess.”

Matches. That’s what that kiss felt like, a box of matches all lighting at once – the spark and the flash and explosion of heat as Dr. McCoy pulled back just enough to press his lips against yours. Nothing gentle, nothing kind, just a ferocity that made you moan against his mouth. His hands, broad and hot, began to roam on your back, settling just enough to pull you ever closer, so that your bodies were flush against each other. Your hand ended up twisted in his hair, the other fisted in his shirt. And just like matches, it was the start of a fire, one that had you both stumbling towards his office, the door sliding behind you with a quiet hiss.

“You were teasing me,” he ground out, directing you between kisses until the back of your thighs were against his desk. His hands gripped you then, around the waist, lifting you so you could sit. “And you didn’t even know it. Your voice over and over in my head, thinking about how it’d sound with my name.”  

“So, you stare at my ass instead of asking me, hmm? What a southern gentleman,” you laughed, and for that you got teeth against your neck, a hand shoving your skirt up. The tips of his fingers seemed to skate over your skin, tickling your inner thigh. But those slow circles never quite got where you wanted, just left burning trails in their wake. “Talk about teasing.”

“At’s what you get for having a smart mouth,” he chuckled, face still against your neck. But soon he was back to kissing you, making your head spin.

“That I know how to use,” you shot back, once again between presses of lips and gasps of air. “I’m – I’m not just a pretty face.”

“Never said you were,” he purred, and this time both hands lifted your skirt high, reaching for the panties that did a poor job of hiding anything. “But why don’t you let me use my mouth first?”

“What an offer.” One you certainly wouldn’t refuse, especially since he looked hungry for it, for you.

There was a brief moment’s hesitation, his finger curled around the elastic and so close to ripping them off. But while his body was begging for it, his pants more than a little tight, his eyes met yours.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, his tongue running along his lips as he got to his knees.

Your gaze didn’t waver, a grin coming over you. “That’s a fucking yes, sir.”

His grin matched yours, sharp and wily as he rid you of your underwear, hands on your knees so he could pull them apart. You were bare to the cool air, and your teeth caught your lower lip as he leaned forward with a hot gasp on your inner thigh.

“Fucking gorgeous.”

The first thing you felt was the swipe of his tongue, a furious push against where you were wettest. A taste, almost, before he licked a line through your folds until his mouth enveloped your clit. You were swollen, desperate for it, and your gasp was thick as fingers once again tangled in his hair. If you said anything, it was a “please,” a “yes,” a “god, right there” as he worked.

He took you apart with his mouth, no hesitation as his tongue worked you over, swirling around your clit as a finger began to tease your entrance. It was with a gasp you came, his hand spreading you open with two fingers inside of you, and when you were able to see straight you saw that grin again, his chin wet, his lips red.

“Holy shit, Doc,” you huffed, your hand falling from his hair to his chin, thumb swiping across the mess and bringing it up to your mouth so you could get a taste of yourself. He did you one better, leaning forward to kiss you again, and the taste of him and you made you smile.

“Leonard.”

“Leonard,” you repeated, and when you pulled back his smile was softer. Almost… vulnerable. “Suits you.”

“Well, I hope so,” he laughed. “It is my name.”

“And it’s my turn,” you pointed out, reaching for his waistband. “I think you should move to the chair.”

[bang-tan-bitches]

MONSTER MASH 2020 ENTRY 1

It Wasn’t Me

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This idea hit me while I was playing Among Us with a group of my friends. The only thing going through my mind at the time was “What if Among Us was scary? And put Bangtan in it?? And so, this story was born. This is my lousy attempted at thriller/horror, so sorry if I couldn’t get the feeling across just right. BUT I hope everyone who reads my story will at least have a little bit of fear striking their heart while reading this :> Also I apologies in advance if you’re upset at how the story plays out. Sadly, this is a horror story, based on a game about killing people and shitty decision making.

Words: 5.8K

Warnings/Triggers: A lot of dark places, lots of noises, OC Death, Character Deaths, Some gore (but not extremely descriptive), False accusations, Swearing (lots of it), One or two people have a panic attack (not extremely descriptive), Blood gets mentioned quite often, BTS MEMBERS DO DIE (You have been warned), Talking about dead bodies (I tried to keep it down on describing them), Memory Loss, My really shitty attempt at Horror/Thriller XD, Sorry if I missed anything :(

Music: I was listening to this while writing https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmTkm_o9Glo

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Everyone was quiet. No one making eye-contact, everyone except for Namjoon that is. He was pointedly staring straight at Jungkook with a harsh glint in his eye, or that could just be from his helmet visor reflecting the low light of everyone's flashlights strapped to their shoulders.

“I know it was you Kook, you can give up pretending like you were actually doing something” Namjoon’s words cut through the dimly lit cafeteria. His cyan coloured glove easily scrolling through his tablet searching for Jungkook’s name, the prompt for voting appearing.

“It wasn’t me! Guys I swear it wasn’t!” Kook pleaded to the others, giving up on trying to convince his elder.

“How isn’t it you JK? We last saw her with you!” Taehyung pipes up from his corner of the simplistic dinning bench. “We don’t even know where the body is guys, so everyone calm down we don’t really have time to throw around accusations with no substance to them.”, Yoongi’s apprehensive gaze looks over Jin’s shoulder, a red digital watch blinking as seconds go by threatening to cut their communication with each other.

“Hobi?”, Jimin looks in Hoseok’s direction. Nervous red gloved hands fiddling, his erratic breaths leaving his lips as he tries to keep it together. Tears turning his eyes glassy and unfocused, his mind recalling seeing your body ripped in half on the floor. “It was in Naviga-” his words faulter, a sob running through his entire body, tear stained face falling into his shaking hands.

Everyone looks on with heartbreak in their eyes, Taehyungs leaving the crying man to look at where you would have been sitting right across from him. He bites his bottom lip, swallowing down a sob of his own. Namjoon speaks up again, “Hobi, could you tell... tell if it was fresh?” “Namjoon!” Jin’s voice raises a few octaves, hand ready to slap the younger one behind the head but his arms are restricted by an unknown force and his pink gloved hand returns to his lap. Hoseok wails even more, but he shakes his head a faint mumble of ‘I couldn’t tell’. Jimin looks on, desperate longing to comfort Hoseok.

“Well then, where was everyone? State your current position, one at a time” Yoongi eyes the ticking red digits again, nerves clearly showing in his tone.

“I was busy here in cafeteria, I had to fix the wires!” Jungkook was quick to respond, desperation in his voice. “I was busy redirecting our power source through to our defences, I saw Taehyung with me. But it was dark, I don’t know what he was doing.” Jimin’s shaken voice calls through shortly after, his sad eyes resting on Taehyung. Everyone’s gaze shifted towards him, awaiting his answer. “I was busy downloading Electrical Bay logs, never got to it though so now I need to go stand there again.” A shiver runs down his spine, with his restricted vision in a place as isolated as their electrical bay, he’s sure everyone can relate to his distaste.

“I was with Yoongi in Medical, busy preparing the vial tests. I’m sure he was doing his scan behind me so he must be clear.” Jin’s voice echo’s through the dark room, his nod towards Yoongi is recuperated with a nod back. “Yeah, I was almost done but the... The... Y/A’s body got reported.” Yoongi fights with himself, unable to bring himself to refer to you now as a thing. A dead thing. Fuck, you were alive only minutes ago, he saw you run past Medical. You still gave him a wave of acknowledgement. His black gloved hand lifts out of its own, his fingers mimicking the wave he sent back your way at the time. Namjoon clearing his throat breaks Yoongi out of his trance. Unfocused eyes looking towards the man calling all attention.

“So then that leaves Jungkook, Hoseok and myself as the possible killer. I was in our administration room busy swiping myself into the system. Hobi I need you to pull it together man, what were you doing that side of the ship?” Hoseok’s body doesn’t stop shaking, but he tries to answer through his broken voice. “I just finished cleaning out the oxygen filters, I was on my way down to defences when I saw the blood trail leading to... to her...” His voice finally giving in, nothing but harsh breathing leaving his dry lips.

“Namjoon, I know you’re convinced it might be Jungkook but it’s not enough. It’s risky to vote someone out now. There's still the possibility the monster could be anyone, we don’t even know if there’s more than one. Keep an eye on JK for now, but it would be foolish to vote now.” Jin’s voice is soft, trying not to make his friend fly off the rails again with accusations. “Fine, this is a warning then Kook.” Namjoon’s cyan coloured gloved fingers cancelling his pending vote on Jungkook. Out of the corner of Taehyung’s eye he could see the visible relief in Jungkook’s body, his shoulders sagging and a held breath being pushed out through his nose.

Soon everyone scrolls to the bottom of the list of their names, all casting their votes on passing this meeting off as inconclusive. The digital timer behind Jin fades out, a scratchy robotic voice playing through the intercoms throughout the ship.

“5 votes Inconclusive.” The five crewmembers who voted, their eyebrows shoot into the sky in shock.

“1 vote Namjoon”, this made his heart race, someone is suspecting him? But who? His eyes dart into Jungkook’s direction seeing the youngest already looking his way, sweat gathering by his temples. It must be Kook, he’s trying to get rid of him!

“1 vote Hoseok”, dread colours his face, how can anyone suspect him of killing you? No, nonono this isn’t right. He was your friend; he could never bring himself to breath a bad word in your direction much less be able to kill you! He needs to partner up with someone, he possibly has a target on his back now. He needs to prove how innocent he really is.

“All members return to your duties.”, And with that the intercoms shut down with a muted screech. As if their suits come to life, their helmets start shutting, visors sliding over their faces and locking in at the latch by their chins. Restricted vision in the already darkly it ship with nothing but a low powered flashlight, everyone starts leaving the dinning bench. Jungkook’s purple helmet disappears into the shadows towards the upper end of cafeteria, Jimin and Taehyung running together towards the southern hallway. Namjoon still idles by the dinning bench, the emergency button tempting him into using his one and only use of it. His hands fist by his sides as he has an inner battle with himself, but finally he decides against it and follows Jin and Yoongi’s retreating figures that ran towards the west side of the ship.

Hoseok thought he was going to starts hyperventilating, he found himself alone in the dark. His mind repeating over and over again “target on your back... target on your back...” hesitatingly he runs towards south hallway in search of Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung... he said he would be in electrical bay. Hoseok finally know his exact destination he disappears into the shadows as he searches for his green helmet friend.

Unable to speak to each other, Jin and Yoongi trod along towards Medical bay again. Not close enough to touch each other with stretched arms, but close enough to still make out each other's body in the shadows. Yoongi doesn’t know how long they’ve been on the ship, his memory completely wiped. But he does remember doing his duties and that was the only thing driving him at this point. He can only vaguely recall all his supposed friends faces but even that gave him a headache if he focuses to long on it. The faint thumping of boots can be heard behind them but that soon fades away, sounded far as well so neither of them grew concerned.

The green flickering lights of Medical bay soon lights up the entryway, the letters ‘cal’ completely busted and the letter ‘i’ flickering on and off. Here Yoongi stops and gets ready to turn, but Jin doesn’t follow him. Yoongi’s stress levels spike at this, Jin just continues walking further down the hallway throwing Yoongi two fingers over his shoulder, ‘Peace’. Jin is abandoning him. Before Yoongi could run after, he was gone from his sight. Just the faint thumping of his boots getting softer and softer till the only thing he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and his panicked breathing.

“You can do this Yoongi, just do your scan and leave. All it takes is 10 seconds, more than enough before anyone can catch you alone.”, he tries to encourage himself, knowing no one can hear him over the busted communications in their helmets. Slowly he walks into the supposed Medical Ward. It was anything but that in his eyes.

The room looks like it hasn’t seen anything human in over 50 years. Ward beds lay toppled over or stacked against the wall to his right, some with wheels, others with what looks to be constraint-straps. This room wasn’t as frightful when he was in here with Jin. This ship is a lot better to handle in general when you're with someone else, he thinks to himself.

He accidently kicks over something that looks like a bedpan, nearly shitting himself at the loud clatter that echoes around him. His heart thundering in his chest, he shakes out his hands in front of him. ‘Fucking calm down Min Yoongi. Since when were you the biggest pussy on this ship?!’ With a neck roll he walks in deeper, passing the discarded beds he eyes the floor. There he sees it, the fucking vent. The second thing that drives a knife through everyone’s hearts. He hastens his steps towards the body scanner, he's been in here longer than he would like already. He hears boots running on top of the steel flooring close to the entrance, he holds his breath. The thumping gets louder but he can’t seem to pinpoint if it's from the left or right, just that it’s getting louder.

Deciding not to stand around and look like he’s not doing anything, he turns away from the door and jumps up onto the filthy podium. He can see his boot prints in the dust from when he was standing there previously before discovering your fate. His hand darts out and starts typing in his crew ID, the old machine groaning as it boots up. “Come on, come on, come on... Fuck switch on already you piece of shit!” as if the scanner could hear him it boots up, what used to be lime green lights settling on his form and so the program starts running.

Yoongi could see nothing, the scanner’s lights bouncing off his visor, barely able to see his own intel on the little black monitor in front of him. The whirling and beeping of the machine are deafening, drowning out the hurried footsteps he heard coming towards him. By the time he’s done, a simple 10 seconds he wishes never to experience again, he was climbing of the podium and sending his scan towards admin. Not waiting to see if the scan goes through, he goes running out of Medical while checking his right wrist for his remaining tasks. He heads east, thinking he’ll shortcut through cafeteria. There he bumps into a nervous Jungkook heading the same direction. They stood and stared at each other for what seemed hours. Yoongi could hear footsteps coming from south hallway, Jungkook’s head snapping towards it as well. Yoongi signals east and beckons Jungkook to follow and continues on with his journey. Weather Kook followed him or not, he doesn’t really care because he wasn’t going to look behind him.

Hoseok nearly ran head first into a stack of boxes when he entered Storage Bay. This room always gave him the creeps. Boxes of God-knows-what stacked high to the ceiling. He hates it, he hates it so much here. ‘I just want to go home’, he thinks to himself. ‘Where even is home? Do I have one? This place can’t be my home... right?’, his steps faulter, inner monologue interrupted by movement. He swears he saw someone’s boot out the corner of his eye. “Buddy system Hobi, look for a buddy and stick by them”, he reminds himself, blinking away something wet from his eyes, not sure if it’s tears or sweat at this point. He slowly makes his way between unmarked boxes, vaguely remembering this is the path to the garbage shoot. He sees the silhouette of someone. His heart in his throat, he nears apprehensively, a yellow helmet coming to life. Jimin turns around and his mouth opens in horror when his eyes land on Hoseok so close to him. He goes tumbling to the floor, his arms thrown up in a defensive manner in the hopes it will make the killing blow less painful.

When nothing happens Jimin opens one eye and peaks through his arms. Hoseok just standing there waving his arms telling Jimin to get back on his feet. With a huff Jimin drags his body back into a standing position and eyes Hoseok warily. He dusts of his white spacesuit's pants, doing nothing but spreading the dust and grease over himself even more. Hoseok points towards the west, asking Jimin silently if he would go with. Jimin shakes his head and points east, he has tasks to do that side of the ship. Hoseok clasps his red hands together, contemplating if he should stick with Jimin or continue on his search for Taehyung. Lifting his right arm, he checks his task list. He needs to be at reactor. He waves to Jimin and leaves his yellow friend behind and continuous looking for Taehyung.

Jin leans back in the rickety chair inside security. The chair is missing two wheels and an arm rest but it’s the only comfort he can indulge in right now. He watches the security cameras in a bored haze. He was curious as to why Yoongi left Medical and went back to cafeteria and not come looking for him. Jin leans back as far as the chair will allow before hearing the plastic cracking. He didn’t like having his back turned to the doorway, much less the vent. He eyes the grated hole in the far corner away from him. It’s barely hidden in the shadows but he could still see the dry blood-stained metal in the low light. The room was practically empty except for a lone broken desk, document debris scattered on its top and the floor around it. He already searched through those notes; he still doesn’t know anything. If anything, he was even less wiser than what he was ten minutes ago. He turns back to the cracked monitors in front of him. He needed to find a way off this damned ship, even if it killed him while trying. He knew he had a family somewhere out there, he needed to get back to them. He watches on silently, his right wrist beeping red. He swears he could hear the creaking of metal on metal.

Jimin having turned his back on Hoseok, walked towards defences. The hallway felt longer and darker when he was alone. He could only hear his erratic breathing and his foot falls on the steel below him. He paused. The entrance of communications greeting him. He peered in but saw no one. The room was filthy. Nothing short of looking like a hurricane tore it apart. Electronic equipment shattered and broken litter the floor. Confusi9on clouded his brain, “What happened on this shi-?” A splitting headache seized him between his eyes at that very moment. He fell to his knees screaming himself hoarse. The feeling of hooks tearing his brain apart, membrane from membrane, he tries clutching at his helmet trying to pray it off of himself. Not soon after Jimin’s vision turns black, his body shutting down and his head bangs against the steel floor.

Jungkook walked quietly behind Yoongi, far enough to just see his elder’s boots in his line of vision. He wasn’t even sure if Yoongi knew he was still following him. He watched as they passed the ship’s gun room. It was more a laser shooter in Kookie’s eyes but he felt the time to bring up the debate of room names was not now. He looks down to his right wrist, red light beeping silently. He continues following Yoongi towards what looks like Navigation Room? Jungkook decides it was best to break off there and head into the oxygen maintenance room, his eyes following the cracking glass plant tank, from there he follows the banged-up pipes all along the walls. He remembers Hoseok saying something about cleaning out the filters here. He looks over his shoulder, hoping Yoongi would have paused and waited for him. No one but darkness greets him. With a shake of his head and shoulders he tries to calm himself down, he disappears deeper into the room in search of a small leaver.

He flicked open his left wrist, opening the small red map on his visor. He wonders if his brother has feasted yet, the idea makes his stomach rumble. He growls jealously at the idea, no, he needs to feed before he becomes unbearable, before he starts slipping up, before he gets caught. He goes for the easiest option, a low grumble of ‘Lights’ sets the mood just the way he likes it. Everyone plunges into darkness. All power gets cut in seconds, flashlights, wall lights, even monitor lights die.

Multiple running footsteps can be heard heading in his direction, he smiles and sticks to the boxes in storage. One set of footsteps are the closest to him, he focuses on the south hallway.

When Jimin comes to he realises he's on the floor, his face clammy and an incessant throbbing inside his head. Slowly he climbs back onto his feet, a shake of his shoulders makes himself feel dizzy, the feeling of vomit coming up his throat makes him turn green. After a few deep breaths Jimin tries to remember what he was doing, lost in thought standing in the even darker hallway. This makes him blink a few times, slowly realisation hits him, the faint blaring of an alarm ringing in his ears. He needs to head to Electrical Bay, hoping he chooses the right direction, he sets off.

Jungkook has never been scared of the dark, not that he can remember that, but he's never been plunged into this type of void before. His hands outstretched in front of him, making sure he won't bump into any walls on his way to see why the power system is failing. He calls out for Yoongi in desperation forgetting that they have no way to communicate with each other. He continues calling out regardless, some messed up way of soothing himself. His shin hits the cafeteria bench, he curses and bends down to rub away the pain. ‘Fucking stupid Kook, why are you even here? You’ve done nothing but make yourself look like an idiot, now you’re walking into shit as well! Fucking useless!’, his internal monologue deafens him from hearing footsteps approaching. The last thing Jungkook saw was sharp white teeth coming straight at him as he stood back up as the lights faded on.

All remaining members were seated at the dinning bench. One by one their visors opened and they quickly saw who was missing. Jungkook and Jin. The vacant seats mocking them.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! WHO THE FUCK KILLED JUNGKOOK? TELL ME NOW YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” Yoongi tried to jump from his seat but he struggled against his suit, as if he was glued to his chair. He was losing it, Kookie was right behind him. Right behind HIM. That means the killer was close by. It could have been him. It SHOULD have been him. He was to chicken shit to look out for Jungkook. He’s responsible for the loss of a crewmate. He breaks down, elbows slamming onto the table, black gloved hands flying to his hair and desperately starts pulling at his strands. Tears freely running down his face.

“Yoongi, it wasn’t Jungkook that I saw in there. I... I saw... Fuck... I saw Jin. He was... He was everywhere... I...”, Taehyung’s voice wavers, he’s staring at the table top but his eyes were watching something else entirely. Just blood, so much blood... was everywhere.

“Where TaeTae?”, Jimin wants to reach out towards his friend. Comfort him and clean his mind from the horrors he witnessed.

“Was in security. I didn’t see anything but I was with Taehyung. I had to go to reactor, Tae came with me so I wouldn’t be alone. He went right and I left and... now we’re here.”, Hoseok’s voice sounded lifeless. His skin was pale and ashy, dark rings decorated his eyes and his nose was raw and red.

“Jimin where were you?”, Namjoon’s eyes darts towards the yellow crewmate. Jimin quickly throws his hands in the air. “No, NO! It wasn’t me! Hoseok can confirm I was in storage and I went east towards defences. Hobi please tell them! There’s no way for me to get to security even with using the vents!” Jimin grabs at the sides of the dining table, his entire body shaking with unshed tears. “Hobi please!”

“Namjoon, he’s right. Even if it was... recent or not, there’s no way it could have been him.”, Hobi hangs his head, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake by defending Jimin.

“Where the fuck were you Namjoon? Huh? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU MOTHERFUCKER?!”, Yoongi tries again to lunge over the table but still he was held to his chair. “YOU HAD IT OUT FOR HIM FROM THE GET GO! JUST ADMIT YOU FUCKING KILLED KOOK!” he was seeing red, the veins on his forehead and throat looking as if they will pop any second. “He has a point Namjoon... Where were you? I was in storage on my way to Electrical to check the switchboard and I didn’t see you in there”, Jimin tries to rub away one of the grease stains on his yellow glove, eyes refusing to look up.

“Yeah Joon, Taehyung and myself fixed the lights, you weren’t in Electrical Bay area at all.”, Hoseok’s the one with the pointed glare now.

“Why are you looking at me? I was back in administration, where the fuck were you Yoongi?” Namjoon was bringing up his defences, he puffed out his chest and tightened his hands into fists on top of the dull table. “I was busy in Navigation you fucker, WHY WERE YOU IN ADMIN AGAIN?”, Yoongi’s voice echoed all around them. Creaking of metal could be heard around them. The darkness filled with silence reminding the crewmembers where they were. A jarring reality compared to the screaming that engulfed them mere seconds ago. The scratchy robotic voice on the intercoms greeted them.

“Voting ends in 10 seconds” The faint blaring of an alarm sounds, slowly getting louder as the seconds tick by.

2 seconds was all it took. 2 seconds of making split-second eye contact and the crewmates were voting.

“1 vote Inconclusive”, no one was making eye-contact. Some breathing louder than others. Jimin could swear he heard Hoseok letting out a sob, or was it Taehyung?

“1 vote Yoongi”, Hearing this made him snap in Namjoon’s direction. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER, YOU THINK I WOULD KILL HIM? HUH? FUCK YOU, PRICK! YOU FUCKING MURDERER, FUCKING MONSTER!”, Yoongi was barely keeping himself together, feeling of rage taking over his being, that is till he hears the last casted voting announcement.

“3 vote Namjoon”, Yoongi breaks out in hysterical laughter. HIs voice bouncing back against the broke walls of the cafeteria. “Looks like you’ll be getting what you deserve after all!”

“You guys made a mistake, it’s not me. If you kick me out now, all of you will die. Please think about this, we can still go ba-”, “Like hell we are! Filthy scum trying to fool you all into trusting it!”, Yoongi was finally freed from his suit’s constraints to the bench. “Come on everyone, the votes have spoken.”, He stalks over to Namjoon, showing him to get up and start walking towards the airlock at the top of the cafeteria. Hoseok gets up and joins him in ushering Namjoon off the ship. Taehyung and Jimin remain at the table, refusing to partake.

Yoongi pulls the latch down, the solid metal doors sliding open with a hiss. With no protest Namjoon steps in, back still turned towards them as Yoongi pushes the latch back up. The doors creak and struggle to close, but seal after a few minutes. Hoseok has moved towards the windows looking out into the vacant space way outside. “This is for Jungkook. Rest in Hell.” With as much strength that Yoongi could muster he slammed his fist down on the eject button. His head barely had time to rest on the cold dirty metal of the airlock panel before their helmets started shutting again.

“Namjoon’s gone.” Those are the last words Yoongi heard pass Hoseok’s lips before they were sealed back into their spacesuits, voiceless. Little did Yoongi know he meant that his body disappeared.

Jimin was the last to leave the table this time. He was unsure of himself. Unsure if his crewmates made the right choice. His right arm beeped red, sighing he flicked open his task list. The flashing of the Reactor Room bouncing off his helmet visor. He didn’t even know which direction the rest of them went in. Slowly he got up, heading west. He heard faint footsteps getting louder the closer he got. The hallway was a mess, broken glass crunched under his boots. ‘Where did this even come from?’, His thoughts distracting him, not even noticing the creaking of metal on metal behind him.

Yoongi walks out of Electrical Bay with confidence, just finishing his tasks and not a soul knew he was in there. Deciding he should check out the security cameras and see where everyone was hiding, but before he could take a step towards the west side of the ship the alarms were blaring again. Oxygen was depleting, and fast. ‘Fuck!’, ignoring his original plan he made a dash for the administration room, hoping someone would already be at the top for the second half of the system reset. It was practically impossible to run into Admin. The number of boxes of files thrown everywhere had Yoongi nearly tripping five times just to get to the back of the room. Finally, he was able to get to the keypad, ripping the yellow sticky note off the monitor. He was squinting as much as he possibly could, barely able to make out the numbers. ‘Is that a six or an eight?’, smashing his thumb on the green button he got the code in with four seconds to spare. He didn’t even realise the depleting oxygen was making him dizzy. He stood in Admin for what felt like an hour, just taking deep breaths. “Where in the ever-loving fuck is everyone else?”, he asks this to himself out loud with no answer returned.

Jimin was a broken mess on the floor, not only did he get a fright when the alarm went off, but once he turned around to go towards the emergency, the doors sealed him in security hallway outside reactor. He pounded as much as his body could against the door, eventually cowering against the corner crying for help. He was convinced he was a goner. His eyes refused to look down the long empty and dark hallway. The only sounds around him the ticking timer of the doors, his sobs and the sound of dripping water.

When the alarm stopped screaming in his ears, not soon after the doors opening, Jimin was astonished that he was still alive. Counting his lucky starts he moved towards his final task in reactor. This room had more light than any other room on the ship, making Jimin squint for a few seconds trying to adjust his eyes to the brightness. Jimin stepped in a pool of water, the soft splash making him jump out of his skin. Jumping back, his eyes fall to the floor. But what Jimin sees might scar him for the rest of his life. He saw a red glove next to a red puddle. Jimin bends to pick it up but drops it instantly when he feels there was weight to it. He felts as if he was going to throw up again, his vision going double and he stumbles back, hitting the reactor door frame. “No, please no, not Hobi... Please not Hobi!”, His voice is scratchy to his own ears. His throat raw and painfully hot.

He heard the tapping of something wet hitting the top of his helmet. Slowly he lifted his head. His eyes were greeted with the horribly mangled body of his beloved elder handing from the wires dangling from the ceiling. Jimin not being able to tell the red blood apart from the red on Hoseok’s suit, he let out a deafening painful scream only his ears could hear and flicked his left arm, with panicked fingers he fumbles to press the report button on his suit.

One by one the visors open of the remaining crewmates. Jimin’s the last to open. Taehyung just lifts his hand and points at Jimin. “Yoongi, it was Jimin all along. I saw him, I caught him with Hoseok’s body. HE WAS STILL TRYING TO GET RID OF THE BLOOD ON HIS SUIT!”, Taehyung’s voice slowly raised into hysteria. Yoongi was confused, his head moving from Taehyungs direction and then Jimin’s and then back to Taehyung.

Jimin’s eyes widening, seeing how Taehyung could have seen this as a misunderstanding. “No! NO, IT WASN’T ME! Tae please you don’t understand what you saw! I found Hobi’s body there, I was freaking out BECAUSE HE WAS LITRALLY ON TOP OF ME IN THE CEILING! I wasn’t cleaning blood off of me I was trying to press my report button! Please this is just a huge misunderstanding, Yoongi, you believe me, right? Right?!”, Jimin’s eyes brimmed with tears, his words stumbling as he’s trying not to cry himself into hysterics while trying to plead for his life.

“Jimin... How... How could you?” Yoongi was speechless. It all made sense now. It was never Namjoon that killed Jungkook, it was Jimin. How did he not figure this out? He’s been quiet in every meeting. Used Taehyung as an alibi. He was in defences when he and Jungkook went to Navigation. Lights were killed and he could have easily offed Kookie behind his back. And now, Jimin wasn’t stopping the oxygen depletion because he was busy feasting on Hoseok’s body.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes?”

“Where were you this whole time?”

“I was busy in Weapons. Oxygen emergency popped up and I walked down to Oxygen Room and typed in the reset keycode.”

“And before that?”

“I saw Hoseok leaving cafeteria towards the west. You left south. Jimin stayed in cafeteria for a while, I stayed with him, but after a few minutes I decided to go do my last task so I left east towards weapons.”

Yoongi sat there for a long while, the digital timer in front of him placing pressure on him.

“Jimin?”

“Y-yes?...”

“Can you confirm anything Taehyung just said?”

“I-I can’t remember... Honestly I can’t! I left cafeteria going west, I didn’t see anyone passing me on the way back. As soon as I got into Security Hallway, all the doors shut on me. I went and hid! I thought I was going to die!”, Jimin was a blubbering mess at this point, he couldn’t see clearly, he could smell the blood on his suit drying.

“I’m not convinced... Die with the rest of your kind, monster. Your fake tears won’t work on me any longer!”

“NO WAIT!”, Jimin’s last plea fell on deaf ears. Taehyung and Yoongi placed their votes and Jimin had no other choice but to place his as well. The scratchy robotic voice lulled to life over the intercoms.

“1 vote Taehyung”, Taehyungs eyes widen at this, his eyes quickly darting between Jimin and Yoongi in panic.

“2 vote Jimin”, and at hearing his final fate Jimin wails. He screams and cries as loud as he could. Yoongi could feel the release on their suits from the bench and proceeded to walk towards the airlock. He pulled the latch down, the sealed doors opening with a creek and groan. Jimin refused to get up from his seat, holding on to the table as tightly as he could. He will make one last fight for his life.

Taehyung huffs at him. “You traitor. Hoseok trusted you. I trusted you. Every single one of us trusted you. How many did you kill while my back was turned to you? Huh?” Taehyung’s words cut through him like a knife, each lashing with his tongue made Jimin’s heart bleed. “Please Tae, please, please, please, it wasn’t me. What you saw was a misunderstanding! PLEASE YOU MUST BELIEVE ME, DON’T DO THIS!”, Taehyung walked up to Jimin and hooked his arms in under his armpits. He dragged the kicking and screaming man to the airlock. Yoongi was watching all of this unfold. His eyes never leaving Jimin, hoping that his disappointed face would burn into his mind. Taehyung threw Jimin on the ground in the middle of the airlock as if he weighed nothing. There Jimin stayed on his knees, elbows on the ground hunched in on himself, quietly sobbing.

Taehyung nodded in Yoongi’s direction, signalling him to do it. Without thinking twice, Yoongi pushes the latch up, waiting for the old doors to seal back up. The last words Yoongi hears from Jimin are, ‘It wasn’t me I swear’. He pauses, his finger just above the eject button. “Yoongi, do it. Do it so we can go home.”, Taehyung’s voice sounds stern, Yoongi follows through. He joins Taehyung by the window to watch Jimin disappear into space.

The first thing Jimin feels is cold. Extremely cold. He feels nothing at the same time, just his body floating in nothing. He tries to hold his breath for as long as he possibly can. As his body twists and turns away from the ship, his sight quickly fading, the last thing Jimin witnessing is Yoongi’s body against the window. Soon followed by a large splatter of blood and his lifeless body falling to the floor of the cafeteria. Jimin closes his eyes in a final goodbye, a single frozen tear stuck to his cheek as the void swallows him whole.

[xxgothickxx]

It Wasn’t Me

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This idea hit me while I was playing Among Us with a group of my friends. The only thing going through my mind at the time was “What if Among Us was scary? And put Bangtan in it?? And so, this story was born. This is my lousy attempted at thriller/horror, so sorry if I couldn’t get the feeling across just right. BUT I hope everyone who reads my story will at least have a little bit of fear striking their heart while reading this :> Also I apologies in advance if you’re upset at how the story plays out. Sadly, this is a horror story, based on a game about killing people and shitty decision making.

I also just want to take this time to say a big thank you to @bang-tan-bitches​ for the opportunity to partake in their Monster Mash competition. I had so much fun writing this and reading the other stories that partook with me! I can’t wait to read any future stories from you :D and also a big thank you to @nomimits7​ for letting me bother her so much for ideas and corrections on this story. I wouldn’t have had the balls if you didn’t push me to send it and post it!!

Words: 5.8K

Warnings/Triggers: A lot of dark places, lots of noises, OC Death, Character Deaths, Some gore (but not extremely descriptive), False accusations, Swearing (lots of it), One or two people have a panic attack (not extremely descriptive), Blood gets mentioned quite often, BTS MEMBERS DO DIE (You have been warned), Talking about dead bodies (I tried to keep it down on describing them), Memory Loss, My really shitty attempt at Horror/Thriller XD, Sorry if I missed anything :(

Music: I was listening to this while writing www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmTkm_o9Glo

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Everyone was quiet. No one making eye-contact, everyone except for Namjoon that is. He was pointedly staring straight at Jungkook with a harsh glint in his eye, or that could just be from his helmet visor reflecting the low light of everyone's flashlights strapped to their shoulders.

“I know it was you Kook, you can give up pretending like you were actually doing something” Namjoon’s words cut through the dimly lit cafeteria. His cyan coloured glove easily scrolling through his tablet searching for Jungkook’s name, the prompt for voting appearing.

“It wasn’t me! Guys I swear it wasn’t!” Kook pleaded to the others, giving up on trying to convince his elder.

“How isn’t it you JK? We last saw her with you!” Taehyung pipes up from his corner of the simplistic dinning bench. “We don’t even know where the body is guys, so everyone calm down we don’t really have time to throw around accusations with no substance to them.”, Yoongi’s apprehensive gaze looks over Jin’s shoulder, a red digital watch blinking as seconds go by threatening to cut their communication with each other.

“Hobi?”, Jimin looks in Hoseok’s direction. Nervous red gloved hands fiddling, his erratic breaths leaving his lips as he tries to keep it together. Tears turning his eyes glassy and unfocused, his mind recalling seeing your body ripped in half on the floor. “It was in Naviga-” his words faulter, a sob running through his entire body, tear stained face falling into his shaking hands.

Everyone looks on with heartbreak in their eyes, Taehyungs leaving the crying man to look at where you would have been sitting right across from him. He bites his bottom lip, swallowing down a sob of his own. Namjoon speaks up again, “Hobi, could you tell... tell if it was fresh?” “Namjoon!” Jin’s voice raises a few octaves, hand ready to slap the younger one behind the head but his arms are restricted by an unknown force and his pink gloved hand returns to his lap. Hoseok wails even more, but he shakes his head a faint mumble of ‘I couldn’t tell’. Jimin looks on, desperate longing to comfort Hoseok.

“Well then, where was everyone? State your current position, one at a time” Yoongi eyes the ticking red digits again, nerves clearly showing in his tone.

“I was busy here in cafeteria, I had to fix the wires!” Jungkook was quick to respond, desperation in his voice. “I was busy redirecting our power source through to our defences, I saw Taehyung with me. But it was dark, I don’t know what he was doing.” Jimin’s shaken voice calls through shortly after, his sad eyes resting on Taehyung. Everyone’s gaze shifted towards him, awaiting his answer. “I was busy downloading Electrical Bay logs, never got to it though so now I need to go stand there again.” A shiver runs down his spine, with his restricted vision in a place as isolated as their electrical bay, he’s sure everyone can relate to his distaste.

“I was with Yoongi in Medical, busy preparing the vial tests. I’m sure he was doing his scan behind me so he must be clear.” Jin’s voice echo’s through the dark room, his nod towards Yoongi is recuperated with a nod back. “Yeah, I was almost done but the... The... Y/A’s body got reported.” Yoongi fights with himself, unable to bring himself to refer to you now as a thing. A dead thing. Fuck, you were alive only minutes ago, he saw you run past Medical. You still gave him a wave of acknowledgement. His black gloved hand lifts out of its own, his fingers mimicking the wave he sent back your way at the time. Namjoon clearing his throat breaks Yoongi out of his trance. Unfocused eyes looking towards the man calling all attention.

“So then that leaves Jungkook, Hoseok and myself as the possible killer. I was in our administration room busy swiping myself into the system. Hobi I need you to pull it together man, what were you doing that side of the ship?” Hoseok’s body doesn’t stop shaking, but he tries to answer through his broken voice. “I just finished cleaning out the oxygen filters, I was on my way down to defences when I saw the blood trail leading to... to her...” His voice finally giving in, nothing but harsh breathing leaving his dry lips.

“Namjoon, I know you’re convinced it might be Jungkook but it’s not enough. It’s risky to vote someone out now. There's still the possibility the monster could be anyone, we don’t even know if there’s more than one. Keep an eye on JK for now, but it would be foolish to vote now.” Jin’s voice is soft, trying not to make his friend fly off the rails again with accusations. “Fine, this is a warning then Kook.” Namjoon’s cyan coloured gloved fingers cancelling his pending vote on Jungkook. Out of the corner of Taehyung’s eye he could see the visible relief in Jungkook’s body, his shoulders sagging and a held breath being pushed out through his nose.

Soon everyone scrolls to the bottom of the list of their names, all casting their votes on passing this meeting off as inconclusive. The digital timer behind Jin fades out, a scratchy robotic voice playing through the intercoms throughout the ship.

“5 votes Inconclusive”, the five crewmembers who voted, their eyebrows shoot into the sky in shock.

“1 vote Namjoon”, this made his heart race, someone is suspecting him? But who? His eyes dart into Jungkook’s direction seeing the youngest already looking his way, sweat gathering by his temples. It must be Kook, he’s trying to get rid of him!

“1 vote Hoseok”, dread colours his face, how can anyone suspect him of killing you? No, nonono this isn’t right. He was your friend; he could never bring himself to breath a bad word in your direction much less be able to kill you! He needs to partner up with someone, he possibly has a target on his back now. He needs to prove how innocent he really is.

“All members return to your duties”, and with that the intercoms shut down with a muted screech. As if their suits come to life, their helmets start shutting, visors sliding over their faces and locking in at the latch by their chins. Restricted vision in the already darkly lit ship with nothing but a low powered flashlight, everyone starts leaving the dinning bench. Jungkook’s purple helmet disappears into the shadows towards the upper end of cafeteria, Jimin and Taehyung running together towards the southern hallway. Namjoon still idles by the dinning bench, the emergency button tempting him into using his one and only use of it. His hands fist by his sides as he has an inner battle with himself, but finally he decides against it and follows Jin and Yoongi’s retreating figures that ran towards the west side of the ship.

Hoseok thought he was going to starts hyperventilating, he found himself alone in the dark. His mind repeating over and over again “target on your back... target on your back...” hesitatingly he runs towards south hallway in search of Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung... he said he would be in electrical bay. Hoseok finally knowing his exact destination he disappears into the shadows as he searches for his green helmet friend.

Unable to speak to each other, Jin and Yoongi trod along towards Medical bay again. Not close enough to touch each other with stretched arms, but close enough to still make out each other's body in the shadows. Yoongi doesn’t know how long they’ve been on the ship, his memory completely wiped. But he does remember doing his duties and that was the only thing driving him at this point. He can only vaguely recall all his supposed friends faces but even that gave him a headache if he focuses to long on it. The faint thumping of boots can be heard behind them but that soon fades away, sounded far as well so neither of them grew concerned.

The green flickering lights of Medical bay soon lights up the entryway, the letters ‘cal’ completely busted and the letter ‘i’ flickering on and off. Here Yoongi stops and gets ready to turn, but Jin doesn’t follow him. Yoongi’s stress levels spike at this, Jin just continues walking further down the hallway throwing Yoongi two fingers over his shoulder, ‘Peace’. Jin is abandoning him. Before Yoongi could run after, he was gone from his sight. Just the faint thumping of his boots getting softer and softer till the only thing he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and his panicked breathing.

“You can do this Yoongi, just do your scan and leave. All it takes is 10 seconds, more than enough before anyone can catch you alone.”, he tries to encourage himself, knowing no one can hear him over the busted communications in their helmets. Slowly he walks into the supposed Medical Ward. It was anything but that in his eyes.

The room looks like it hasn’t seen anything human in over 50 years. Ward beds lay toppled over or stacked against the wall to his right, some with wheels, others with what looks to be constraint-straps. This room wasn’t as frightful when he was in here with Jin. This ship is a lot better to handle in general when you're with someone else, he thinks to himself.

He accidently kicks over something that looks like a bedpan, nearly shitting himself at the loud clatter that echoes around him. His heart thundering in his chest, he shakes out his hands in front of him. ‘Fucking calm down Min Yoongi. Since when were you the biggest pussy on this ship?!’ With a neck roll he walks in deeper, passing the discarded beds he eyes the floor. There he sees it, the fucking vent. The second thing that drives a knife through everyone’s hearts. He hastens his steps towards the body scanner, he's been in here longer than he would like already. He hears boots running on top of the steel flooring close to the entrance, he holds his breath. The thumping gets louder but he can’t seem to pinpoint if it's from the left or right, just that it’s getting louder.

Deciding not to stand around and look like he’s not doing anything, he turns away from the door and jumps up onto the filthy podium. He can see his boot prints in the dust from when he was standing there previously before discovering your fate. His hand darts out and starts typing in his crew ID, the old machine groaning as it boots up. “Come on, come on, come on... Fucking switch on already you piece of shit!” as if the scanner could hear him it boots up, what used to be lime green lights settling on his form and so the program starts running.

Yoongi could see nothing, the scanner’s lights bouncing off his visor, barely able to see his own intel on the little black monitor in front of him. The whirling and beeping of the machine are deafening, drowning out the hurried footsteps he heard coming towards him. By the time he’s done, a simple 10 seconds he wishes never to experience again, he was climbing of the podium and sending his scan towards admin. Not waiting to see if the scan goes through, he goes running out of Medical while checking his right wrist for his remaining tasks. He heads east, thinking he’ll shortcut through cafeteria. There he bumps into a nervous Jungkook heading the same direction. They stood and stared at each other for what seemed hours. Yoongi could hear footsteps coming from south hallway, Jungkook’s head snapping towards it as well. Yoongi signals east and beckons Jungkook to follow and continues on with his journey. Weather Kook followed him or not, he doesn’t really care because he wasn’t going to look behind him.

Hoseok nearly ran head first into a stack of boxes when he entered Storage Bay. This room always gave him the creeps. Boxes of God-knows-what stacked high to the ceiling. He hates it, he hates it so much here. ‘I just want to go home’, he thinks to himself. ‘Where even is home? Do I have one? This place can’t be my home... right?’, his steps falter, inner monologue interrupted by movement. He swears he saw someone’s boot out the corner of his eye. “Buddy system Hobi, look for a buddy and stick by them”, he reminds himself, blinking away something wet from his eyes, not sure if it’s tears or sweat at this point. He slowly makes his way between unmarked boxes, vaguely remembering this is the path to the garbage shoot. He sees the silhouette of someone. His heart in his throat, he nears apprehensively, a yellow helmet coming to life. Jimin turns around and his mouth opens in horror when his eyes land on Hoseok so close to him. He goes tumbling to the floor, his arms thrown up in a defensive manner in the hopes it will make the killing blow less painful.

When nothing happens Jimin opens one eye and peaks through his arms. Hoseok just standing there waving his arms telling Jimin to get back on his feet. With a huff Jimin drags his body back into a standing position and eyes Hoseok warily. He dusts of his white spacesuit's pants, doing nothing but spreading the dust and grease over himself even more. Hoseok points towards the west, asking Jimin silently if he would go with. Jimin shakes his head and points east, he has tasks to do that side of the ship. Hoseok clasps his red hands together, contemplating if he should stick with Jimin or continue on his search for Taehyung. Lifting his right arm, he checks his task list. He needs to be at reactor. He waves to Jimin and leaves his yellow friend behind and continuous looking for Taehyung.

Jin leans back in the rickety chair inside security. The chair is missing two wheels and an arm rest but it’s the only comfort he can indulge in right now. He watches the security cameras in a bored haze. He was curious as to why Yoongi left Medical and went back to cafeteria and not come looking for him. Jin leans back as far as the chair will allow before hearing the plastic cracking. He didn’t like having his back turned to the doorway, much less the vent. He eyes the grated hole in the far corner away from him. It’s barely hidden in the shadows but he could still see the dry blood-stained metal in the low light. The room was practically empty except for a lone broken desk, document debris scattered on its top and the floor around it. He already searched through those notes; he still doesn’t know anything. If anything, he was even less wiser than what he was ten minutes ago. He turns back to the cracked monitors in front of him. He needed to find a way off this damned ship, even if it killed him while trying. He knew he had a family somewhere out there, he needed to get back to them. He watches on silently, his right wrist beeping red. He swears he could hear the creaking of metal on metal.

Jimin having turned his back on Hoseok, walked towards defences. The hallway felt longer and darker when he was alone. He could only hear his erratic breathing and his foot falls on the steel below him. He paused. The entrance of communications greeting him. He peered in but saw no one. The room was filthy. Nothing short of looking like a hurricane tore it apart. Electronic equipment shattered and broken litter the floor. Confusi9on clouded his brain, “What happened on this shi-?” A splitting headache seized him between his eyes at that very moment. He fell to his knees screaming himself hoarse. The feeling of hooks tearing his brain apart, membrane from membrane, he tries clutching at his helmet trying to pray it off of himself. Not soon after Jimin’s vision turns black, his body shutting down and his head bangs against the steel floor.

Jungkook walked quietly behind Yoongi, far enough to just see his elder’s boots in his line of vision. He wasn’t even sure if Yoongi knew he was still following him. He watched as they passed the ship’s gun room. It was more a laser shooter in Kookie’s eyes but he felt the time to bring up the debate of room names was not now. He looks down to his right wrist, red light beeping silently. He continues following Yoongi towards what looks like Navigation Room? Jungkook decides it was best to break off there and head into the oxygen maintenance room, his eyes following the cracking glass plant tank, from there he follows the banged-up pipes all along the walls. He remembers Hoseok saying something about cleaning out the filters here. He looks over his shoulder, hoping Yoongi would have paused and waited for him. No one but darkness greets him. With a shake of his head and shoulders he tries to calm himself down, he disappears deeper into the room in search of a small leaver.

He flicked open his left wrist, opening the small red map on his visor. He wonders if his brother has feasted yet, the idea makes his stomach rumble. He growls jealously at the idea, no, he needs to feed before he becomes unbearable, before he starts slipping up, before he gets caught. He goes for the easiest option, a low grumble of ‘Lights’ sets the mood just the way he likes it. Everyone plunges into darkness. All power gets cut in seconds, flashlights, wall lights, even monitor lights die.

Multiple running footsteps can be heard heading in his direction, he smiles and sticks to the boxes in storage. One set of footsteps are the closest to him, he focuses on the south hallway.

When Jimin comes to he realises he's on the floor, his face clammy and an incessant throbbing inside his head. Slowly he climbs back onto his feet, a shake of his shoulders makes himself feel dizzy, the feeling of vomit coming up his throat makes him turn green. After a few deep breaths Jimin tries to remember what he was doing, lost in thought standing in the even darker hallway. This makes him blink a few times, slowly realisation hits him, the faint blaring of an alarm ringing in his ears. He needs to head to Electrical Bay, hoping he chooses the right direction, he sets off.

Jungkook has never been scared of the dark, not that he can remember that, but he's never been plunged into this type of void before. His hands outstretched in front of him, making sure he won't bump into any walls on his way to see why the power system is failing. He calls out for Yoongi in desperation forgetting that they have no way to communicate with each other. He continues calling out regardless, some messed up way of soothing himself. His shin hits the cafeteria bench, he curses and bends down to rub away the pain. ‘Fucking stupid Kook, why are you even here? You’ve done nothing but make yourself look like an idiot, now you’re walking into shit as well! Fucking useless!’, his internal monologue deafens him from hearing footsteps approaching. The last thing Jungkook saw was sharp white teeth coming straight at him as he stood back up as the lights faded on.

All remaining members were seated at the dinning bench. One by one their visors opened and they quickly saw who was missing. Jungkook and Jin. The vacant seats mocking them.

“WHAT THE FUCK?! WHO THE FUCK KILLED JUNGKOOK? TELL ME NOW YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” Yoongi tried to jump from his seat but he struggled against his suit, as if he was glued to his chair. He was losing it, Kookie was right behind him. Right behind HIM. That means the killer was close by. It could have been him. It SHOULD have been him. He was to chicken shit to look out for Jungkook. He’s responsible for the loss of a crewmate. He breaks down, elbows slamming onto the table, black gloved hands flying to his hair and desperately starts pulling at his strands. Tears freely running down his face.

“Yoongi, it wasn’t Jungkook that I saw in there. I... I saw... Fuck... I saw Jin. He was... He was everywhere... I...”, Taehyung’s voice wavers, he’s staring at the table top but his eyes were watching something else entirely. Just blood, so much blood... was everywhere.

“Where TaeTae?”, Jimin wants to reach out towards his friend. Comfort him and clean his mind from the horrors he witnessed.

“Was in security. I didn’t see anything but I was with Taehyung. I had to go to reactor, Tae came with me so I wouldn’t be alone. He went right and I left and... now we’re here.”, Hoseok’s voice sounded lifeless. His skin was pale and ashy, dark rings decorated his eyes and his nose was raw and red.

“Jimin where were you?”, Namjoon’s eyes darts towards the yellow crewmate. Jimin quickly throws his hands in the air. “No, NO! It wasn’t me! Hoseok can confirm I was in storage and I went east towards defences. Hobi please tell them! There’s no way for me to get to security even with using the vents!” Jimin grabs at the sides of the dining table, his entire body shaking with unshed tears. “Hobi please!”

“Namjoon, he’s right. Even if it was... recent or not, there’s no way it could have been him.”, Hobi hangs his head, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake by defending Jimin.

“Where the fuck were you Namjoon? Huh? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU MOTHERFUCKER?!”, Yoongi tries again to lunge over the table but still he was held to his chair. “YOU HAD IT OUT FOR HIM FROM THE GET GO! JUST ADMIT YOU FUCKING KILLED KOOK!” he was seeing red, the veins on his forehead and throat looking as if they will pop any second. “He has a point Namjoon... Where were you? I was in storage on my way to Electrical to check the switchboard and I didn’t see you in there”, Jimin tries to rub away one of the grease stains on his yellow glove, eyes refusing to look up.

“Yeah Joon, Taehyung and myself fixed the lights, you weren’t in Electrical Bay area at all.”, Hoseok’s the one with the pointed glare now.

“Why are you looking at me? I was back in administration, where the fuck were you Yoongi?” Namjoon was bringing up his defences, he puffed out his chest and tightened his hands into fists on top of the dull table. “I was busy in Navigation you fucker, WHY WERE YOU IN ADMIN AGAIN?”, Yoongi’s voice echoed all around them. Creaking of metal could be heard around them. The darkness filled with silence reminding the crewmembers where they were. A jarring reality compared to the screaming that engulfed them mere seconds ago. The scratchy robotic voice on the intercoms greeted them.

“Voting ends in 10 seconds” The faint blaring of an alarm sounds, slowly getting louder as the seconds tick by.

2 seconds was all it took. 2 seconds of making split-second eye contact and the crewmates were voting.

“1 vote Inconclusive”, no one was making eye-contact. Some breathing louder than others. Jimin could swear he heard Hoseok letting out a sob, or was it Taehyung?

“1 vote Yoongi”, Hearing this made him snap in Namjoon’s direction. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER, YOU THINK I WOULD KILL HIM? HUH? FUCK YOU, PRICK! YOU FUCKING MURDERER, FUCKING MONSTER!”, Yoongi was barely keeping himself together, feeling of rage taking over his being, that is till he hears the last casted voting announcement.

“3 votes Namjoon”, Yoongi breaks out in hysterical laughter. HIs voice bouncing back against the broke walls of the cafeteria. “Looks like you’ll be getting what you deserve after all!”

“You guys made a mistake, it’s not me. If you kick me out now, all of you will die. Please think about this, we can still go ba-”, “Like hell we are! Filthy scum trying to fool you all into trusting it!”, Yoongi was finally freed from his suit’s constraints to the bench. “Come on everyone, the votes have spoken.”, He stalks over to Namjoon, showing him to get up and start walking towards the airlock at the top of the cafeteria. Hoseok gets up and joins him in ushering Namjoon off the ship. Taehyung and Jimin remain at the table, refusing to partake.

Yoongi pulls the latch down, the solid metal doors sliding open with a hiss. With no protest Namjoon steps in, back still turned towards them as Yoongi pushes the latch back up. The doors creak and struggle to close, but seal after a few minutes. Hoseok has moved towards the windows looking out into the vacant space way outside. “This is for Jungkook. Rest in Hell.” With as much strength that Yoongi could muster he slammed his fist down on the eject button. His head barely had time to rest on the cold dirty metal of the airlock panel before their helmets started shutting again.

“Namjoon’s gone.” Those are the last words Yoongi heard pass Hoseok’s lips before they were sealed back into their spacesuits, voiceless. Little did Yoongi know he meant that his body disappeared.

Jimin was the last to leave the table this time. He was unsure of himself. Unsure if his crewmates made the right choice. His right arm beeped red, sighing he flicked open his task list. The flashing of the Reactor Room bouncing off his helmet visor. He didn’t even know which direction the rest of them went in. Slowly he got up, heading west. He heard faint footsteps getting louder the closer he got. The hallway was a mess, broken glass crunched under his boots. ‘Where did this even come from?’, His thoughts distracting him, not even noticing the creaking of metal on metal behind him.

Yoongi walks out of Electrical Bay with confidence, just finishing his tasks and not a soul knew he was in there. Deciding he should check out the security cameras and see where everyone was hiding, but before he could take a step towards the west side of the ship the alarms were blaring again. Oxygen was depleting, and fast. ‘Fuck!’, ignoring his original plan he made a dash for the administration room, hoping someone would already be at the top for the second half of the system reset. It was practically impossible to run into Admin. The number of boxes of files thrown everywhere had Yoongi nearly tripping five times just to get to the back of the room. Finally, he was able to get to the keypad, ripping the yellow sticky note off the monitor. He was squinting as much as he possibly could, barely able to make out the numbers. ‘Is that a six or an eight?’, smashing his thumb on the green button he got the code in with four seconds to spare. He didn’t even realise the depleting oxygen was making him dizzy. He stood in Admin for what felt like an hour, just taking deep breaths. “Where in the ever-loving fuck is everyone else?”, he asks this to himself out loud with no answer returned.

Jimin was a broken mess on the floor, not only did he get a fright when the alarm went off, but once he turned around to go towards the emergency, the doors sealed him in security hallway outside reactor. He pounded as much as his body could against the door, eventually cowering against the corner crying for help. He was convinced he was a goner. His eyes refused to look down the long empty and dark hallway. The only sounds around him the ticking timer of the doors, his sobs and the sound of dripping water.

When the alarm stopped screaming in his ears, not soon after the doors opening, Jimin was astonished that he was still alive. Counting his lucky starts he moved towards his final task in reactor. This room had more light than any other room on the ship, making Jimin squint for a few seconds trying to adjust his eyes to the brightness. Jimin stepped in a pool of water, the soft splash making him jump out of his skin. Jumping back, his eyes fall to the floor. But what Jimin sees might scar him for the rest of his life. He saw a red glove next to a red puddle. Jimin bends to pick it up but drops it instantly when he feels there was weight to it. He felts as if he was going to throw up again, his vision going double and he stumbles back, hitting the reactor door frame. “No, please no, not Hobi... Please not Hobi!”, His voice is scratchy to his own ears. His throat raw and painfully hot.

He heard the tapping of something wet hitting the top of his helmet. Slowly he lifted his head. His eyes were greeted with the horribly mangled body of his beloved elder handing from the wires dangling from the ceiling. Jimin not being able to tell the red blood apart from the red on Hoseok’s suit, he let out a deafening painful scream only his ears could hear and flicked his left arm, with panicked fingers he fumbles to press the report button on his suit.

One by one the visors open of the remaining crewmates. Jimin’s the last to open. Taehyung just lifts his hand and points at Jimin. “Yoongi, it was Jimin all along. I saw him, I caught him with Hoseok’s body. HE WAS STILL TRYING TO GET RID OF THE BLOOD ON HIS SUIT!”, Taehyung’s voice slowly raised into hysteria. Yoongi was confused, his head moving from Taehyungs direction and then Jimin’s and then back to Taehyung.

Jimin’s eyes widening, seeing how Taehyung could have seen this as a misunderstanding. “No! NO, IT WASN’T ME! Tae please you don’t understand what you saw! I found Hobi’s body there, I was freaking out BECAUSE HE WAS LITRALLY ON TOP OF ME IN THE CEILING! I wasn’t cleaning blood off of me I was trying to press my report button! Please this is just a huge misunderstanding, Yoongi, you believe me, right? Right?!”, Jimin’s eyes brimmed with tears, his words stumbling as he’s trying not to cry himself into hysterics while trying to plead for his life.

“Jimin... How... How could you?” Yoongi was speechless. It all made sense now. It was never Namjoon that killed Jungkook, it was Jimin. How did he not figure this out? He’s been quiet in every meeting. Used Taehyung as an alibi. He was in defences when he and Jungkook went to Navigation. Lights were killed and he could have easily offed Kookie behind his back. And now, Jimin wasn’t stopping the oxygen depletion because he was busy feasting on Hoseok’s body.

“Taehyung?”

“Yes?”

“Where were you this whole time?”

“I was busy in Weapons. Oxygen emergency popped up and I walked down to Oxygen Room and typed in the reset keycode.”

“And before that?”

“I saw Hoseok leaving cafeteria towards the west. You left south. Jimin stayed in cafeteria for a while, I stayed with him, but after a few minutes I decided to go do my last task so I left east towards weapons.”

Yoongi sat there for a long while, the digital timer in front of him placing pressure on him.

“Jimin?”

“Y-yes?...”

“Can you confirm anything Taehyung just said?”

“I-I can’t remember... Honestly I can’t! I left cafeteria going west, I didn’t see anyone passing me on the way back. As soon as I got into Security Hallway, all the doors shut on me. I went and hid! I thought I was going to die!”, Jimin was a blubbering mess at this point, he couldn’t see clearly, he could smell the blood on his suit drying.

“I’m not convinced... Die with the rest of your kind, monster. Your fake tears won’t work on me any longer!”

“NO WAIT!”, Jimin’s last plea fell on deaf ears. Taehyung and Yoongi placed their votes and Jimin had no other choice but to place his as well. The scratchy robotic voice lulled to life over the intercoms.

“1 vote Taehyung”, Taehyungs eyes widen at this, his eyes quickly darting between Jimin and Yoongi in panic.

“2 votes Jimin”, and at hearing his final fate Jimin wails. He screams and cries as loud as he could. Yoongi could feel the release on their suits from the bench and proceeded to walk towards the airlock. He pulled the latch down, the sealed doors opening with a creek and groan. Jimin refused to get up from his seat, holding on to the table as tightly as he could. He will make one last fight for his life.

Taehyung huffs at him. “You traitor. Hoseok trusted you. I trusted you. Every single one of us trusted you. How many did you kill while my back was turned to you? Huh?” Taehyung’s words cut through him like a knife, each lashing with his tongue made Jimin’s heart bleed. “Please Tae, please, please, please, it wasn’t me. What you saw was a misunderstanding! PLEASE YOU MUST BELIEVE ME, DON’T DO THIS!”, Taehyung walked up to Jimin and hooked his arms in under his armpits. He dragged the kicking and screaming man to the airlock. Yoongi was watching all of this unfold. His eyes never leaving Jimin, hoping that his disappointed face would burn into his mind. Taehyung threw Jimin on the ground in the middle of the airlock as if he weighed nothing. There Jimin stayed on his knees, elbows on the ground hunched in on himself, quietly sobbing.

Taehyung nodded in Yoongi’s direction, signalling him to do it. Without thinking twice, Yoongi pushes the latch up, waiting for the old doors to seal back up. The last words Yoongi hears from Jimin are, ‘It wasn’t me I swear’. He pauses, his finger just above the eject button. “Yoongi, do it. Do it so we can go home.”, Taehyung’s voice sounds stern, Yoongi follows through. He joins Taehyung by the window to watch Jimin disappear into space.

The first thing Jimin feels is cold. Extremely cold. He feels nothing at the same time, just his body floating in nothing. He tries to hold his breath for as long as he possibly can. As his body twists and turns away from the ship, his sight quickly fading, the last thing Jimin witnessing is Yoongi’s body against the window. Soon followed by a large splatter of blood and his lifeless body falling to the floor of the cafeteria. Jimin closes his eyes in a final goodbye, a single frozen tear stuck to his cheek as the void swallows him whole.

[shipping-turtle-12]

Sick Love

It was a tiring day at the arena for Octane, he didn’t feel like himself that day; his movements were sluggish, his aim wasn’t steady, the headache hurt even worse than being in the storm, after a horrible match and back at the base Octavio went straight to the medic (who is also his BFF) Ajay.

-So, what do I have and how do I get rid of this doc? -  

Even when sick his distinctive rush was still very present in his voice

-Well, it’s nothin’ serious, ‘s just a bug you caught, take this pill and get some rest O that would really help and you should be felling like yo self when you wake up-

-Gracias amiga-

After thanking her and taking the pill he just went to his room and sleep like a log, he hoped that the relieve for his headache would come instantly but he still felt like shit, dizzy and with blurred vision, it was a struggle to find his room in this distorted place but after a few minutes he arrived at his front door and with a happy sigh he pushed the door’s button to let his sickly ass in.

-Octavio? –

A soft voice called his name when he entered what was supposed to be his room, it took him a few seconds to realize that he made a mistake and entered Wattson’s room

-Hey there chispas, how are you doing?

-I’m good, are you ok? You don’t look like your usual self mon ami-

-Oh, you notice huh? Yeah the good old Octrain isn’t doing so well, apparently I caught a bug heh, I already took some medicine and was on my marry way to get some rest in my room but as you can see I got confused and now I’m here, sorry to bother you chica, I’ll take my tired ass an-

He stopped when her face made a sad expression, like if she wanted him to stay, and that was in fact what she wanted

-You know, I actually think that you should rest here, I isolated my room so no noise can get in or out if you vant to get a good nap this is the right place-

Her eyes sparkled with joy when she offered him this, dam her warm tone and her puppy eyes, how could he refuse

-Well, I didn’t want to be a problem but if you insist…-

He approached her bed while taking of his mask, although he can breathe with it on he can’t really smell, the scent of vanilla thanks to some scented candles was soothing, not to mention her bed was super comfy like a squishy marshmallow, this can’t get any better he thought, but he was wrong

He barely noticed her presence next to him, or how she lifted his head and put it on top of her lap, he was kind of regretting his decision of taking of his mask because he could feel his cheeks getting red with embarrassment

-I hope you don’t mind this mon ami-

She replied with a smile, he also notices that her cheeks were getting red

-N-no, it is fine, totalmente-

-Octavio? -

- ¿Sí?

-Would you mind if I take of the rest of your mask off? I think that might help sleep better-

He was reluctant at first, but she was right his cap ang googles do get in the way when he tries to rest, and with a nod he gives her permission to take the rest off

-Good-

She was nervous, now that she think about it she has never actually see him without his mask, maybe he was ashamed of it or maybe he was so used to it that even he didn’t mind having all day, when she took all of it off his face she let out a soft gasp, his hair was black with green tips, short and curly, his eyes were somewhat neon green but they also seem brown underneath, he had some scars be to her he was beautiful. She couldn’t help herself and ran her fingers thru his hair, he didn’t mind, her fingers were helping quite well and he was already feeling like nothing in the world could stop him from having the best nap of all time.

Natalie saw him drift into the realm of dreams, and while she kept on brushing his hair and looking at her window said in a whisper

-J’aimerais pouvoir te dire combien je t’amie-

-Je t’amie aussi

She was caught off guard with that, she looked down to see Octavio with red cheeks and a soft smile

-I took some lessons to surprise you-

She only covered her face in shame for a solid minute while he laughed softly

-i-I didn’t know you… liked me-

She was still confused and happy

-How could I don’t, you are smart and strong, not only that you are without a doubt the prettiest person I have ever known-

She let out a giggle and some tears fall from her eyes and thru her cheeks

-Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry, lo siento-

-No no, I’m just happy for this-

She grabbed his hand, they both look at each other and continue from where they left off, she kept on brushing his hear with her fingers and he fall asleep as the happiest man on earth.

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Chapter 5

Masterlist/ Warnings.

@pansexualwho​  imthedoctorlove

Mentions of suicide in this chapter.   

                                                  Decisions. 

The TARDIS landed with a loud thud, making you fall backwards, The Master reaching out to try and catch you, but not reaching you in time. Jeremy, the resident TARDIS pet you had acquired, ran over to you. You scratched behind his ears before taking your lover's hand and allowing him to pull you up. "Maybe not so hard next time?" You offered as you dusted off your pants and brushed the dirt off your hands.

The Master walked over to the door, "Well perhaps your precious Doctor needs to find a better place for a catch up,"

You grinned and bounced on your feet behind him, "Hold down the fort Jeremy," You called out to the creature who was sitting lazily on the couch. You could feel The Master roll his eyes through the bond, another smile crossed your face. He may pretend not to like the creature you had brought on board, but you have caught him on numerous occasions allowing it to sleep on his lap or absently petting it's head. Not that he would openly admit it.

"Oh I can't wait to see them again," You smiled, pushing past The Master and finding yourself on a large space station, "Huh, not exactly where I thought we would end up. Where are we?"

The Master came to stand next to you, "71st Century. Parliament house," He said simply, looking up at the destroyed console, "I thought it would look nicer then this,"

"Looks like someone's trashed the place," You commented, watching as your partner flicked a few switches, "Dead?"

"Yep,"

You continued to look around, the darkness of the room sending a small chill down your spine. You kicked a few of the broken machines that were scattered around the place and turned back to The Master, "I wonder what happened here?"

The Master looked over his shoulder at you, "Whatever happened, doesn't seem like anyone's here,"

The familiar groaning sound made you both turn around, you with a large grin on your face and The Master feigning nonchalance as he continued to play around with the console.

The blue phone box appeared in front of you and the familiar blonde woman stepped out, "I've missed you,"

You let out a loud chuckle and embraced the Time Lady who had whispered, "He hasn't hurt you has he? I don't think he would, but he's unstable and I can't be 100% sure,"

You stepped back and shook your head, "No. We've-we understand each other more now," You stated simply, ignoring the scoff coming from the Time Lord behind you. You moved away and watched as Yasmin, Ryan and Graham all stepped out behind her, each one embracing you harder then the last.

"So now that we're all here, why did you call us?" The Master said, coming to stand next to you.

The Doctor looked between you both, noticing the closeness and slight possessiveness The Master had over you, "Something's happened. Or it's happening. I don't know. But everything is in danger and I've located its origin to here and now,"

The Master shrugged his shoulders, "Why does this concern me?"

"I need your help," She replied, her brown eyes meeting his.

The Time Lord shook his head, "You've saved the universe before without my help,"

You reached down and laced your fingers with his, making him look down and look back at you. You both seemed to be having a silent conversation, you silently begging him to help. You could see the conflict behind his eyes, it wasn't in his nature to help save something, his nature was chaos and destruction. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he turned back to The Doctor, "Fine. What is it?"

To say that The Master wan't happy about there being a bio weapon on board the ship and it having wiped out all life on board before you had arrived was an understatement.

To say that he was pissed that you chose to go with Graham instead of staying by his side was an even bigger understatement. You could feel it in the bond, his annoyance, his anger at you choosing to leave his side,of you choosing to leave the safety of his side so you could hunt down some clues on what had happened on board made him even more frustrated.

Graham followed slightly behind you, leaving you to man the torch and to lead the way. It was like you had done this a thousand times before, ducking and weaving under and around exposed wires and broken pieces of the station scattered around your feet and head.

“So…” Graham started, ducking under the overhanging wires, “You and The Master then?” You turned back to look at him before facing forward, “Its a very long and very complicated story that one,” “So is everything when travelling with The Doctor” You shrugged a shoulder, “That’s a fair point actually,”. You gave a small sigh, stopping for a moment for Graham to catch up. “It started when I was a teenager. I would get these brain splitting headaches. Of course my parents and doctors would put it down to stress, or my period, some even said it was psychosomatic,” You glanced over at him to see he was still listening, “I ended up at the Royal Hope Hospital around the same time it was transported to the moon,” “I remember that,” “There I met The Doctor. Told him about my headaches, thought I was a medical anomaly but ended up letting me travel with him anyway. Then I saw Harold Saxon for the first time and it was like my brain was splitting in half. He was a Time Lord, he did some awful things, but one thing The Doctor explained to me was that he was my soulmate. Kind of like this bond, it strengthens the longer we're together, I can feel what he's feeling and vice versa. It was the reason why I was getting the headaches, The Master was-is- mad. He had this drumming in his head and that's what was causing my headaches,"

Graham nodded but you could see he wasn't really following, "So you and him are..."

"I don't know," You shrugged, "I love him. I know that much," You pointed the torch down to where a row of named lockers were, "In here," You let out a small sigh, "I love him, but being with him, it's like fire and heartbreak and pain; but at the same time it's like I can't be without him. Like I physically need him to live,"

"That doesn't sound healthy," Graham commented.

You shook your head, "I sometimes wonder if it is. If it's worth it. And then I see him doing something like he's doing now, saving something, and I realize that maybe there's something good in there after all,"

You moved quickly into the room, pulling open the doors and grabbing the necessary items, smiling at the tiny vacuumed sealed suits, "I love modern tech," You stated, holding up what looked like small zip loc bags filled with clothing. You reached in and grabbed what looked like a tape recorder, flipping it over in your hands a few times.

"What's that?" Graham asked, coming up behind you and looking over your shoulder.

You shrugged, "I dunno. Looks like a tape recorder," You stated, looking at the buttons on the top, "Either way, we'll take it back to The Doctor, see what it is,"

You passed him over a few of the bags and closed the locker again. You head the sound of scuttling come from above you and quickly raised your flashlight to see what it was, upon seeing nothing, you looked back at the older man, seeing that he was as spooked as you were, "Lets get back. I have a strange feeling that we're not alone here,"

You both walked back into the common area, watching The Master and The Doctor arguing over how to deal with the problem. You could see frustration on both their faces, and the two other humans in the room looking exasperated at the scene in front of them.

"Oi," You stepped forward, looking at your lover and your friend, "We found this. It was in the lockers," You handed The Doctor the device and set down the bags, "We also found space suits, just in case. What is it?" You came to stand by The Doctor, looking over her shoulder as she toyed with the device in her hand.

"It's a hologram. Kind of like a Captain's log. Let's see what it says shall we?" The Doctor smiled as she pointed her screwdriver at it, a blue figure coming to stand in the middle of the room. You could see The Master through the figure, staring at it intently.

"It's day 45. Food's running out. Hendricks and Maya got taken by those creatures, whatever they were," The hologram ran a hand down their face, "I don't-I don't know how long we've got. I've tried to send an SOS but they cut down all our lines of communication. If these creatures get a hand on what we have on board this ship it could mean the end of everything," The hologram abruptly cut out, leaving an eeary silence in the room.

The sonic screwdriver was activated and the hologram reappeared, this time the man looked more tired, more drawn. The defeat was evident in his eyes. "Day 70. I-I'm tired. I haven't slept in two days. There's no food, no water. Everyone's dead," Tears fell from their eyes, "The creatures have the bio weapon. I tried. I tried so hard, but in the end they were too strong," The man picked up a pistol, "If you're seeing this, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, but we're all dead," He placed the gun in his mouth and fired, making you jump and your eyes well up with tears.

It didn't take long for the creatures hiding in the darkness to make their presence known, earning you being pulled down the darkened hallway by your leg, leaving the wrath of The Master to everyone in the room. When he told you that he had burned millions for you, the anger in his eyes when he found you told you that the stories were true.

He'd tear down a universe for you.

So now you were stuck by his side instead of helping The Doctor and the other's fight whatever monsters were in the dark. The only idea any of you had to wipe out the bio weapon and the monsters was one large explosion, wiping out the entire station and everything on it.

The Doctor asked The Master, since destruction was his area of expertise.

You were biting your thumb nail, arms crossed over your chest, watching as The Master sat on the grated floor by your feet, murmuring angrily to himself as he twisted and pulled wires out of the small compartment. You knew that he didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be helping The Doctor and her companions, he didn't want to be helping save the universe, but he was.

Biting on your lip, you placed your hands in your back pockets, "Ya know, we could leave right?" You said quietly, watching as his back tensed and he slowly turned his head to face you, "We could dump all this right now, head back to the TARDIS. Leave The Doctor and everyone else to sort it out like they always do," You let out the breath you were longing as The Master shifted to get comfortable, facing you fully now, curiosity crossing his face, "Just float in space. The two of us,"

A small smile crossed his face as he let out a huff, shaking his head and grabbing your hand, pulling you down to eye level; "You'd never forgive yourself if you did that,"

"But you could always say that we're leaving," You retorted simply, swallowing deeply, "And I would follow you. I'll always follow you,"

His hand came up and rested on your cheek, his lips moving forward to press on your forehead, "What? And leave the possibility of your friends to die?" He shook his head, "Like I said, you'd never forgive yourself if anything happened that you could have prevented," He turned back around to face what he was doing, "See that black wire in the back there, can you reach in and pull it out? My hands are too big,"

You bent down next to him and reached in, your hand weaving in and out of the wires trying to grip the one he was describing to you. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you with a soft smile on his face. You could feel the adoration through the bond, the feeling of wanting nothing more then to hold you to him the way that he did the previous night.

"I think I've got it," You stated, giving it a hard yank and pulling it out, "Genius," You joked as The Master bent back down and began twisting the wires together.

You sat down next to him and watching his face, seeing the determination in his eyes, "You're only doing this for me aren't you?" He gave a small sigh and turned to face you, "I'd do anything you asked of me if it means that you're happy," He said simply before turning around and continuing on his project.

"I love you," You said simply, watching the smile cross his face, the happiness through the bond.

"I know you do," He replied, standing up and making his way over to the next large console, pulling out the underside and pulling out all the wires again.

He stopped what he was doing for a moment before looking over at you, "After this, how about we go to that planet we were talking about? The one with the hot ice pools? I'll drop you off, pick you up after a few hours," He stated simply.

You shrugged your shoulders, "But I'll be bored without you there," You retorted, "How about we go to that forest you were talking about? That one that has the universes largest trees,"

"Make some new memories," The Master said, his voice was quiet as he turned back to the console. You felt a dash of sadness through the bond but chose to ignore it, instead moving over to the large glass window that looked over the planet below.

The yellow and green swirls covered the atmosphere, the moons lazily floating around it. Your hand pressed against the glass, watching the the clouds move around the plant, "It's so beautiful up here," You stated, turning back to The Master who was still working on the final console.

There was a quietness in the room that seemed to unease you and made you turn away from the window. , "So what's the plan anyway? Blow up everything on the ship and run away?"

A slightly manic grin came over The Master's face, holding up the tape recorder you had found hours earlier, except it now had many wires sticking out of it, "It had radioactive substances in it, I'm using it to create a bomb. I'll need a few more if we're to wipe out the whole station so The Doctor and her groupies have gone off to find some more," He explained, watching as you came over and crouched down next to him.

"Destruction and chaos. Your two favorite things," You joked.

He gave a small shrug, "I only have three," He placed the bomb back on the ground and continued wiring it, "You're my first favorite," He stated simply, leaving you with a large grin on your face. “After this, I’ll take you home if you’d like?” He said suddenly, leaving your eyebrows to furrow in confusion, “You know, since you’ve been bugging me about it,” You let out a small chuckle, “I haven’t asked you about Earth in months. Besides, you hate it there. And I like it here, with you,”  Another pang of sadness came through the bond, leaving your heart aching slightly, “That’s the second time I’ve felt your sadness today. What’s wrong?”  The Master froze for barely a split second, but you still saw it, “Nothing’s wrong. I just hate the fact that I’m here doing this for someone I barely even like,”  “You liar. I know you like The Doctor in your own strange way,”  He looked up at you, “I like her because she keeps bringing me you,” He turned back, “Not for any other reason,” You shook your head, “No, it’s something else that’s the matter. Something deeper,” You moved close to him, “Please tell me,”  You watched as his jaw clenched a few times before pointing to his TARDIS, “Go in there, under the console there’s a tiny white rock attached by yellow wires. Can you grab that for me?” “What’s it for?”  “To make the explosion bigger. If we’re going to make an explosion, then we better make it a good one,”

[missblogging]

B R O...

MA  H DUD  ES...

YOU KNOW HOW EVERYONES LIKE-

“HOW OLD IS ALL MIGHT ANYWAY?”

AND THEY’RE NOT EXACTLY SURE HOW OLD?

I THINK I FIGURED IT OUT!!!!

FUCKING DAVID SHIELD HELPED ME OUT!!!

First thing’s first, I am so sorry about my last post, I was on my last brain cell when I posted it, and I was too excited to do anything other than eat shit... (I mean metaphorically of course)

ANYWAY!!! THIS IS MY REDEMPTION AND APOLOGY!!!

SO! Look VERY carefully at this picture!

Yah see that? That’s All Might’s Data, now before you say, “But it’s future bullshit! How are we supposed to understand their technology if they’re from 20XX?” 

YOUR WRONG!!!!

This right here is his, like what it says on the top left corner, “Vital Logs,” Which all scientists/doctors take for normal check-ups or just to see any significant changes! For example, from top right to bottom right, All Mights RR also known as, Respiratory Rate, since he was using a mask to breathe in, states that he takes in 18.4 breathes each minute, the SPO2, or his Oxygen Rate, is a perfect 99.4, and his ECG/EKG, or Electrocardiogram, is 61.5/m.

Basically, All Might is as healthy as a horse with cancer... I mean- yeah his vital’s are something that any doctor or medical student can dream of- but who wants eternal bleeding and the removal of their internal organs? NOT THIS STUDENT!!!

And O O F that’s just the beginning my friends!!

This isn’t exactly that important? But at the same time, it is?? OKOKOK let me explain the relevance to THIS picture here.

Alright so, we’ve got the Whole Protein and the Albumin; and before you google search what the hell Albumin is unless you know how the body works, don’t bother cause that’s just gonna lead you to a hell of a headache.

So here goes nothing, The Albumin is the main type of Blood Plasma Protein that the body produces, mainly the liver’s job. While the Whole Protein is just how much protein is in his system.  However, All Might had to have some internal organs removed because they were damaged beyond repair no matter how many healing quirks there are in the world.

Now, let me tell you the results of the Whole protein levels, first of all. 

4.8 g/dl meaning 4.8 grams per deciliter. Which is really, REALLY bad, like, bro All Might are you ok??? This kind of also proves my “All Might has a quirk besides One for All” theory, but not by much to be honest, since he’s at this point of the story, unable to go back to his All Might form without vomiting blood, if anything, he could have been practicing using the “mystery quirk” the entire time, but NOPE!!! BODY MASS!!! MUST DEFEAT ALL FOR ONE!!! AVENGE MY SUCCESSOR!!! Ahem, anyway, back on track here- The normal levels for whole protein are supposed to be 6-8.3 g/dl. Which is exactly why I am questioning if All Might is ok- like fam yah need more beef or some shit like that...

The next thing I need to also confirm is the Albumin Levels. Which are 2.7 g/dl. The normal rate for that is 3.5-5.5 g/dl. So he’s... ok? Not really, he’s obviously below the rating, but not as bad as the whole protein levels were.

Fun fact about your’s truly: I’m actually not supposed to learn about these said levels unless I choose the Phlebotomy course at my school. I was planning on doing phlebotomy any way cause it was the most interesting course out of the six courses my school lets us choose, but my parents made me change my course options so instead of Pleb. as my first while Optomology is my second. It was downgraded while Opto was upgraded. So... I guess I’ll try getting my certification another way instead of the school providing it form me???

AND FINALLY THE MOMENT I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!!!! THE THING THAT I’VE BEEN WANTING TO TALK TO Y’ALL ABOUT THE MOST!!!

ALL MIGHTS TRUE AGE!!!

LOOK CAREFULLY AT THIS PICTURE!!!! IT’S EVEN IN ENGLISH LIKE THE REST OF THE CHART!!!! IT’S THE REAL-DEAL!!!!

YOU KNOW HOW ALL MIGHT HIMSELF SAID THAT HE HASN’T EVEN TOLD DAVID AND MELISSA ABOUT ONE FOR ALL?? WELL, YOU’RE GOSH-DARN RIGHT HE HASN’T!!! 

TOP LEFT CORNER: S-POW ACTIVITY: ALL MIGHT HAD BEEN CALLING HIS QUIRK SUPER POWER, A CLASSIC NAME FOR A QUIRK LIKE HIS. 

CENTER OF THE IMAGE HAS A CLOSE UP TO THE CHART WITH A GREEN FLAG THAT SAYS SIX YEARS AGO, AFTER THAT, THE ACTIVITY BEGINS TO DEPLETE, INDICATING THE DISAPPEARANCE OF ALL MIGHTS QUIRK.

THERE’S EVEN A CLOSE UP OF THE DATA!!!

But what we’re going to REALLY look at is the dotted graph!!

Counting up all of the data needed, you can confirm that All Might is 43 years old at this time! BUT!!! THAT’S WHERE SOMETHING CLICKED!! NOT ONLY DOES THE MANGA CONFIRM THAT ALL MIGHT MET DAVID IN AMERICA! BUT, THE CHAPTER WITH ALL MIGHTS HISTORY AND BIO IS REVEALED!! ALSO REVEALING THE INFO THAT HE WENT TO AMERICA TWO YEARS AFTER THE INCIDENT WITH HIS MASTER!!! Blessings to Nana Shimura...

I’m going to use Midoriya’s & Melissa’s age as a reference as I have to be positively sure!! 

The only reason for doing so is because of the amount of data on the chart, which I realized after rechecking the data and realizing that it said 6 YEARS ago- not 23 XD SO! Double checking this again!

Ok, Midoriya is I’m going to say 15 during the I-Island incident. Before any of the shit that goes on during the recent chapters. So by getting rid of 6 years off of Mido’s life, he’s 9 (10 if he’s actually 16 during the incident but I highly doubt it). So let’s use the data above as our reference (like what we’ve been doing for the last few paragraphs). There is also the confirmation thanks to the paragraph that All Might was 18 when Nana had to leave him from this world. (I'm guessing that Gran was at least in his mid-30′s when this incident occurred).

So let’s use 20 as the starting age!!! All Might is 20 years Old at that time, which is also around the time that he meets David! Of course, I’m going to guess that the machine that All Might was hooked onto when they were checking vitals was probably made a year after meeting each other, so that’s 21 at the time. David is probably the same age as All Might, maybe a month or two younger/older. Now! Using Melissa’s current age and of course, getting rid of 6 years of her age, she’s 11. Using that as the number of years that pass by with All Might and David, that takes us to him being 31 years old by that time.

Of course, he’s been back in Japan by that time trying to hunt down All for One, so he’s probably missed Melissa when she hits 11 herself. And Midoriya’s hit 9 by that time as well. So we’re going to use his age at this time and on! All Might finally meet Mido at 14. So that’s adding 5 years onto the age chart. Making him 37. And of course, adding 2 more years if you want to get the exact amount since Midoriya is technically 16 by the time the exam with 1A and 1B hit (damn how many years is it just to finish their first year??? Isn’t that weird? I mean I understand Melissa since this all occurs in the US where, by the time you're a third year, your like 16-17 years old, I feel yah boo) makes him 39.

Of course, that's where I had his a roadblock, cause that didn't sound right. At all, so I decided to go back a bit and using the 9-year difference between the birth of Melissa and his age of 21. I had gotten him right at 30. THAT'S when I had added the 11 years, which had gotten me 41 years old. Then, using the years with Izuku (which is 5 years later), I had gotten him at 46. And that's just Izuku at 14! Adding the 2 years he now has, that gets our #1 hero at 48

All Might, the symbol of peace, is 48 years old. Let that sink in. 

Sweet Jesus Lord... I feel so brain dead after all of that, do you know how much research I had to do?? Not that much lol I had actually watched the Movie for the first time yesterday at like- Ass O' Clock. No joke, it was almost one by the time I had finished, then after that, I began my research and went to bed to finish, which I got to finish today after a few disturbances!!

Wow, is this what it feels like to be Midoriya for a day? It- it actually feels a little cool tbh, it's like I just had the freedom to word vomit all over Tumblr...

ANYWAY!! IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR INTO THE THEORY THAT COULD BE TRUE!! I THANK YOU AND HOPE THIS ACTUALLY MADE AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT OF SENSE!!! 

I... I think I need to make some kind of chart or something for this... eh- thats for me of tomorrow... 

Anyway, later!!!

[scaredandbored]

the one with the sonic showers

for @julie-yard , (sorry it’s so ooc but it’s got DaForge in!)

word count (excluding the compulsory grouching i do in the brackets next because i ran out of space in the tags whoops) : 2233

(also this is my first ever piece of writing using solely other people’s characters so i apologise in advance lol)

(constructive criticism welcome just please be nice i cry really easily)

(hey so data is literally an android and geordie is CHEIF FRICKIN ENGINEER and i am Bad At Physics. so there are large gaps in dialogue which i would LOVE to do some more research on (not sarcasm i really would but i would get sucked into it and never actually write lol) but i’m more of a chemistry/biology Basic Bitch™️ so even though i’m supposed to know enough about sound waves to write that dialogue i don’t trust myself enough to do it)

(also, i’m a First Aid Responder, not a doctor, damnit! so all medical talk in this is me reading three (3) articles on chronic tension headaches and then seeming myself fit to write about it)

(sorry in advance, here you go!)

The alarm he had set for twenty minutes before the beginning of his shift made Geordie feel as though he was being hit repeatedly by a phaser. Wincing, he groped for his VISOR, slamming his other hand on the button that would stop the infernal shrieking. Logically, Geordie knew the noise was just barely above a soft trill, but as he rummaged around his drawer for his acetaminophen hypo, he was considering having a word with the senior medical staff about limiting the volume of the ships alarms in the interest of the crew’s wellbeing.

As usual, the hypo did very little for the inescapable pressure on his skull, and the activation of his visor did nothing but restore him to the state he was before the hypo. Grimacing, he dragged himself over to the replicator in the far corner of his room, toeing off the black regulation bottoms he’d slept in and tossing them into the laundry shoot as he walked by. “Coffee, black, sixty degrees Celsius.”. Hoping against hope the caffeine would keep the dull pain from spiking until he could administer her perscription later in the day. He rolled his head between sips of the slightly too bitter beverage, with the intention of loosening up in order to stave off neck and shoulder tension later in the day. “Computer, set a reminder to schedule a meeting with Dr.Crusher for me, will you?” The computer’s answering trill was, again, much too loud for his liking, so he gave a second order for all automated auditory responses to decrease intensity by 50%.

Sliding off his VISOR, Geordie decided to pick out his uniform and dress using muscle memory, the idea of putting his VISOR back on before absolutely necessary was enough to make his stomach turn, violently. “OK, so don’t put it back on, Geordie, it’s not rocket science.” he sighed to himself as he tugged the zip up, catching his thumb in his collar. Adequately annoyed at himself and already aching to take another shot of his hypo, Geordie lamented the fact he hadn’t decided to shower, the warm water would’ve done some good towards the inevitable spasms his upper back and neck would undoubtedly engage in later that evening. Sitting down, he pressed the heels of his almost-cool hands against his temples, rubbing around the terminals for his VISOR, where the ache was the worst. As he considered requesting sick leave and how to tell Riker he’d be missing poker tonight without raising suspicion, his communicator went off, the obnoxious trill sending a jolt of nausea through him as Barclay’s voice rang around his room.

“Barclay to Commander LaForge.”

Geordie winced and sighed before tapping his badge. “LaForge here.”

While Reg was relaying his message, Geordie reluctantly picked up his VISOR and clicked it into place. “There’s been several complaints shipwide about sonic shower malfunctions, the captain has asked us to assemble a team and look into it as soon as possible, sir.”

“Acknowledged. I’ll be in Engineering as soon as I can. Until then, Reg, you get a few ensigns and run a few tests on the basic functions in the malfunctioning units on the lower half of the affected decks. I want the results updated in real time so I can check them against the ones I’ll run. LaForge out.” Geordie considered popping into Sickbay on his way to see if he could get a muscle relaxer to avoid any serious cramping of his neck muscles, but the acetaminophen seemed to be kicking in, and he’d hoped this meant the worst was over.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

After numerous hours of running several different sonic showers at increasingly higher frequencies, Geordie felt as though his head was going to burst. He’d missed the hour he was supposed to re-administer his painkiller by a good thirty minutes, and the ensign he had taken with him to the upper decks had noticed his smile was less a smile and more a pained grimace. When she’d suggested he let her run a few tests while he updated the logs, Geordie had politely declined with a small laugh and an even smaller smile. When she repeated the question ten minutes later, he complied without a word.

Lunchtime arrived what felt like years later, when Geordie finally caved and turned himself into sickbay.

“Hey, Alyssa, can I talk to you for a second?” Geordie held out his hand in a sort of rushed, half-thought out greeting that immediately told Alyssa what it was Geordie wanted to talk to her about.

“Geordie, maybe you should sit the rest of your shift out.” Was all she said in the way of sympathy as she administered several of his usual hypos. This was why Geordie came to her before any other nurse on the Enterprise. Her sympathy was just enough to get her job done and she kept her pity to herself for the most part.

“Well, you know what they say!” Geordie jumped to his feet, rubbing his hands together briefly before giving one sharp clap to test the rapidly receding pressure in his head. “No peace for the wicked. I’ll see you around, Alyssa, thanks for the help.”

As Geordie moved out from behind the thin curtain Alyssa had pulled for privacy, he found himself looking straight up at his best friend, and his heart skipped a beat. “Data!” He grinned.

“Geordie.” Data’s head nodded in acknowledgement. Geordie admired the halo his VISOR caused around Data’s head. “I fail to see the relevance between your chosen turn of phrase and Nurse Ogawa’s reccomendation. I also object to the comparison you have drawn between yourself and the afformentioned ‘wicked’.”

“Data, it was a joke.” Geordie smiled again, the combination of the slightly stronger meds and his closest friend reducing the pain to a tolerable level. The fact his crush on Data was all-consuming only meant he had something to distract himself from what pain remained. “And Alyssa was just being nice, you know how I’d love to take an evening off to fool around on the holodeck.” Geordie immediately regretted his choice of words, but Data remained oblivious, his concerned head tilt still in place.

“Nurse Ogawa is not known for the benevolent prescription of unnecessary sick leave, Geordie.” He opened his mouth as if to suggest something, before closing it again and taking a step forward, placing his hand on Geordie’s shoulder. Now, it was Geordie’s chest that was under considerable pressure. “Do not hesitate to contact me if necessary. I must return to duty.”

Geordie chuckled in order to hide his disappointment at the loss of Data’s hand on his shoulder, shaking his head fondly. “No problem, Data. I’ll do that.”

Geordie was nearly out the door of Sickbay when Data called after him. “I shall see you at poker tonight, Geordie.”

It didn’t sound like a question, but Geordie knew Data well enough to know he was hoping to prompt a response. “I dunno, buddy. I’m kinda tired, if I’m being honest. I’ll let you know later, ok?”

Data blinked once, then twice, then nodded, his head adjusting itself into a neuteral position. “That is satisfactory.”

This time, Geordie laughed, the pain in his shoulders creeping up on him slowly once again, despite Data’s adorable half-attempt at a wave as the doors slid shut behind him. “Computer, what time is it?”

The shrill chime that preceded the response didn’t particularly hurt his head, but Geordie could feel his shoulders tensing even further, and he knew beyond doubt there was no way he would make it to cards that evening.

That evening found Geordie still in one of those awful, shrieking showers. He’d been technically off-duty for an hour now, and desperately needed to take off his VISOR for ten minutes, but Barclay had taken one look at Gerodie’s drawn face and refused to leave him alone in the bathroom they were checking out. “Hey Reg, do me a favour?” Geordie needed to get him out of the room so he could slip off his VISOR and massage his temples. That, or he needed to stop working with the shower on; the high frequencies were really not helping his situation.

“Sir?” Barclay’s hands had stuttered to a sudden stop the minute his commanding officer had spoken.

“Could you run and grab a coffee? The Gamma Shift doesn’t start for another five minutes, we can take a break from this instantaneous reporting.” Geordie didn’t take his head out from the panelling they had removed half an hour ago, afraid Reg would see the pained twist he could feel in his lips and call Dr.Crusher. He knew he could handle it, it wasn’t the worst pain he’d ever had from his VISOR, and he’d managed to subtly administer another hypo when he’d gone to grab them both a water around twenty minutes ago.

“Yessir.” Was Barclay’s anxious reply, and there was a prolonged silence between his response and the sound of the doors opening and shutting. They’d had to shut down all replicator and environmental control activity while they worked, which meant Geordie had five minutes to give his head a well-deserved break. Clicking the VISOR out of its terminals and heaving a sigh of relief, Geordie felt his head swim. Taking a few steadying breaths, he fumbled blindly at the sonic shower’s controls, silently cursing himself for not having shut it off before removing the VISOR. Only succeeding in shifting the tuning to an impossibly more painful frequency, Geordie sat down on the floor of the shower, back pressed against the back wall, head falling back against the cool slate. He rubbed at his eyes. “Goddamn.” His sigh made his head swim once more, and his subsequent calming breaths only served to worsen the sensation. The constant drone pressed down on his head so much the pain from that morning seemed as intimidating as... Geordie couldnt think properly; he could only conjure up an image of Data as he worked at his desk in his quarters, resolutely ignoring Spot on his stack of PADDs, aside from his gentle, regular strokes. The image made him smile, which caused his tensed muscles in his neck and shoulders to spasm, violently. Again, the deep breathing Deanna had helped him with when he’d first arrived on the ship did nothing but worsen the sensation.

Geordie dragged his shaking hand down his face, which came away damp with what Geordie briefly considered to be sweat, before everything went black.

There was a hand on either side of his face, a comforting pressure being applied by what felt like a pair of thumbs around the terminals on his temples. “Do not be alarmed, Geordie.”

Data was whispering, Geordie noted, and his tender head thanked the android for it. “Data? What happened?”

The thumbs stopped rubbing briefly, but resumed without hesitation when Geordie accidentally, slightly whimpered at the loss. “You passed out while completing your tests on the malfunctioning sonic showers. Dr.Crusher administered a variety of medications which she noted in your medical log, if you would like for me to read them to you?”

Despite his hushed tones, Geordie’s head really wasn’t going to put up with any noise for very much longer. “No, no talking, please, Data.” he managed to get out, curling up a little, before starting, which caused his shoulders to spasm lightly. “Wait, my VISOR-” Data’s hands shifted to the problematic muscles immediately, massaging firmly.

“I have your VISOR on the arm of your couch to my left. However, given the negative effect it has had on your condition throughout the day, Dr.Crusher has requested you refrain from replacing it this evening.” There was a pause as a mildly confused but very tired and complacent Geordie allowed himself to be gently manoeuvred into a reclined position, his head in Data’s lap while the second officer returned his hands to Geordie’s head. “I am here to assist you in every way possible, and I have downloaded various massage techniques frequently used on those who suffer from long-term, extreme tension headaches.”

“Why?” Geordie mumbled, slowly drifting off despite the pressure slowly returning with a vengeance behind his eyes.

Another pause, the hands stilled. Geordie frowned and they started to move again, but the silence continued. Just as Geordie was about to fall asleep, Data spoke. “You are my friend.”

“Huh?”

“I am helping you because you are my friend, Geordie.”

Geordie smiled softly, shaking his head. “I know that Data.”

Another pause, much more brief, and the hands did not stop their gentle rubbing on his delicate head. “What was the purpose of your inquiry, Geordie?”

And Geordie, as much as he wanted Data to know, he couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t say he wanted Data to be there because he liked the domesticity of this situation, to be there not only to massage his knotted muscles and play nurse, but to hold his hand, to kiss his forehead, to... “No purpose, Data.” He sighed softly, settling further into his best friend. “None at all.”

His breathing had lengthened, he was almost fully asleep but not quite there yet, when he felt cool lips press against one of the terminals, then the skin right beside it.

“Hmmm, Data?”

A pause. “Yes, Geordie?”

A mumble, the beginnings of a snore.

Slightly more urgently, “Geordie?”

“Said, I l’ve ya,,,”

Several minutes of soft snores and gentle massages later, an almost unintelligible: “I believe... I am in love with you also.”

fin

i was going to put in a bit about Data finding Geordie because he hadn’t gotten back to him about the poker but then i felt like it took from the kind of,,, geordie pov vibe i had going idk

hope you enjoyed!

sorry for all the inevitable typos i did this on my ipad and i didnt proof read because i’m kinda using this one shot prompt thing as a warm up to writing as opposed to actually writing fic? idk if that makes sense but i enjoyed writing it and i hope you enjoy reading it!