#including but not limited to the front door being unable to lock which means i stayed about 30 minutes later than usual while trying to fix

[lollipopwizard1219]

get my pussy up….. get my money up….. get my pussy.. up….. get my money up….

[pearl-blue-musings]

Unforgettable pt. 4

HI FAM 

WOWOWOW SORRY THAT THIS UPDATE IS SO LATE I HAD A HARD TIME BRINGING THIS OUT IN THE WAY I WANTED.

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x fem!reader x Hawks/Keigo Takami

Warnings: language, a hint of angst

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

The night you returned from your secret adventure was filled with confusing emotions. Why did talking to that covered stranger, whom you now know as Dabi, come so naturally? Why was it so easy, despite the fact that he’s a villain? And why, God why did touching pinkies send a jolt through your body leaving you unable to forget what that felt like.

You wish you could forget how that felt but you can’t. Not because of your quirk, but because it made you feel safe, made you feel differently than with your interactions with anyone else. Including Hawks.

But then a new feeling was emerging. It wasn’t just a sense of freedom; it was a form of vindication. You did something without the hero commission or Hawks knowing and the emotion was indescribable. Maybe this was your way out, your means of escaping the overprotective clutches of the hero commission. Who cares that they adopted and took you in off the street? The pros and cons of this are relatively even so the thought of escape finally feels within reach. Not just for you, but for Keigo as well.

You and Dabi had continued to meet up once, sometimes twice a week at the same spot on the same bench. You two never disclosed too much information about your work lives but gave enough information that was allowable. Dabi would talk of successful missions and failed trysts, always going off about an unmentionable master plan and a newbie that was bothering him. You would talk of stressors, your eventual dreams, and sometimes you’d sprinkle in bits of your past.

It was weird how Dabi was so interested in knowing more about your childhood friends and your relationship with them. You didn’t mind though, because finally you were able to talk about these things with someone who didn’t experience it or try to put a cap or limit on your feelings. You truly began to confide in him.

So much so, that 5 weeks into your meetings you had allowed him to walk you home. He would drop you off a couple of blocks away, just in case anyone was nearby. Over the weeks, little bouts of affection between the two of you began to grow. Lengthened hugs, prolonged handshakes, lingering touches… Sometimes it reminded you of the closeness you have with Hawks, but something about these flittering touches seemed more intimate, more special.

You tried your best to calm the rush of emotions you would feel around him, chalking it up to be the feeling of harboring a secret and not getting caught. Yeah, that’s it. Tonight was one of your usual trips to the neighborhood grocery store that was sanctioned by the commission. They told you going out at night was better because less distractions and less of a chance to run into trouble that could lead to a potential overload. Bullshit, just what the hell were they really scared of?

As you’re walking back, noting the coolness in the air as you tug your scarf closer to you lips, you walk pass your secret meeting point. A hidden smirk comes to your face as you think of the number of times Dabi has met and left you at that spot.

That’s why it was weird for you to see someone in that exact spot right now.

Your curiosity got the best of you as you secure your bags closer to yourself. The overhead light is faded which makes it harder to see who is actually there. Your gut tells you to run and leave the person be, but a whisper changes your mind.

“(Y/n)…”

You gasp, almost dropping your bags as you approach the shadow.

“Dabi?”

Sneaking him into your apartment had your adrenaline pumping. You were bringing someone who wasn’t a hero into your home! A home secured by the hero commission and watched like a hawk. You trod along carefully, being aware of the blood coming from his stomach and legs and trying not to have any fall on the carpet. If anyone saw the bloodstains leading up to your door, they’d know something was up. Even now, his face is covered almost as if he was planning on coming to see you. Sure you two had talked about it, but even you knew how risky that was.

You hear him hiss beside you as you close the door to your apartment. You pull him closer to you as you take off his and your shoes. Once that’s done, you hurry him to the bathroom and sit him on the closed toilet.

“Okay, let me get a good look at you.”

Once you take him in, it takes all you have to not cry out. Despite the knowing charred skin, there’s blood coming from the middle of his shirt and some from his leg. Your eyes reach his face and you see there’s traces of blood as well. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what,” you mutter. You try you best to avoid his gaze but that doesn’t matter because his eyes are everywhere except yours.

“With pity. Like you’re sad for me.”

You reach for the first aid kit from your medicine cabinet and grab a towel. “But I am sad Dabi. Careful this may sting a bit.”

“That’ll be nothing. I’m used to pain.”

He notices you flinch when he says his truth. Since most of his body is burned and not compatible with his quirk, a little sting from alcohol won’t hurt him. He also takes note of the care you give him, not even wincing upon seeing his leg. You keep working up his body and you shyly ask him to take off his shirt so she can attend to the wound there.

His rough and warm calloused hand stops you. “Don’t.”

“Dabi, I have to in order to treat the wound. Please, just let me.”

His grip loosens and he mumbles out, “just don’t regret seeing me.”

You sigh deeply and start to remove his bloody and tattered shirt. Once it’s over his black locks, you can’t help the tiny squeak that leaves your lips. Scarred, charred, and stapled skin greets you. It’s gruesome, it’s painful, but it’s mostly saddening. To know that he deals with this every day hurts you more than you thought it would.

You begin to dab at the wound to help it heal and stop bleeding. It’s not lost on you that despite his scars, his physique is immaculate. Toned skin meets burned skin and the contrast in shades surprises you. You don’t feel your breath quicken as you finish working his stomach wound.

Your eyes finally meet his and you push yourself up to your knees. “Let me see your face.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m not gonna let you drag and spill blood all over my apartment. Let. Me. See.”

“Little mouse, be careful. You don’t want to get on my bad side right now. I’ve had a fucking night.”

“So let me help you! Please.”

His sapphire eyes darken at your pleading words and then soften. It was bound to happen eventually, maybe he’ll have to kill her now, regardless of how he feels or thinks he feels. His shoulders droop in defeat and you take that as an invitation. You come closer to him, slowly taking off the glasses obscuring his eyes. You’re immediately taken back by how beautiful his eyes are. They seem familiar, but everything feels familiar with him so you let it go.

Next, your hands graze his ear which you feel is slightly burned and covered in piercings. Slowly you unhook the strap around the back of his ear and do the same to his other ear. Dabi is now completely exposed to you. The scars and staples match the rest of his body, but they don’t take away from how handsome he actually is. Your hand naturally goes to his cheek to feel it underneath your fingertips. It’s rough but velvety, a comforting and very him touch.

You feel his hand grab the one on his cheek and you fear he wants to pull it away. However, he does the opposite and pushes it closer to his face, almost like he’s melting into your touch. He looks calm, relieved even. His eyes had shut naturally at your touch, nostalgia running rampant as the feel of your hand on his is something he thought he’d never feel again. He sighs lightly, not realizing how long he had been holding his breath.

This act is so intimate, but the two of you barely even recognize it as such. You raise your other hand with the towel to wipe away the blood spots that taint his unmarred skin. He let’s you continue to clean him off as the sound of the light buzzing and the bathroom fan become the soundtrack for the evening. Once you finish wiping his face, he grabs your other hand which makes you drop the blood clad towel. Dabi pulls you in closer, now your lips merely inches apart. His eyes drop to your lips as they part ever so slightly and then back up to your eyes.

“Dabi I-“

He silences you by firmly placing his lips on yours. The kiss starts out curiously slow, as you two take time to take in the feel of each others lips. Unlike him, he waits for you to feel comfortable before pressing deeper into your lips. His tongue invades your mouth and you welcome it, causing Dabi to moan slightly at the feeling. You pull back, perturbed by the noise and your eyes go wide.

“I’m sorry, did I do something weird?”

He chuckles and brings your forehead to his. “Doll,” he pauses to find his words but comes up empty, “shut up.” He pulls you in again, this time with conviction. Your confidence soars as you start to roam your hands all over his body. You can tell he wants you to stop touching his scars but you keep on anyways, giving them tender touches. How long had it been since someone, more like you, had touched him in such a loving and caring manner?

Even when he was first getting burned from his quirk, you had been there when the both of you were younger. You had offered healing solutions and open arms when it seemed no one had cared. So part of him hoped that you would recognize a tid bit of the feelings he wants you to feel, to experience within this kiss. He wants to press on more into the kiss but he knows better. He always does.

So he pulls away.

“Why,” you pant, “why did you stop?”

Dabi bites at his burned lip with lust blown eyes. “Wouldn’t this be better not in a bathroom?” You become flustered at that and remove yourself from the man in front of you. He stands up with you and you want to aid him because of his wounds. “It doesn’t hurt as much as you think it might.” You two walk out of the bathroom into the partially lit hallway. He stops your progress by pressing you into the wall. He growls out, “c’mere.”

The wall behind you supported you as he stole your breath. You never thought you could feel this way with someone again. Not to say that you haven’t, but relationships never progressed this far. However, as you briefly break for air, you think about the only other person who has ever given your heart butterflies without you realizing it.

“Hey kid, I had some time to sneak away and-“

Your heart rate shot up at the unexpected intruder. Anxiety began to swell as you took in the scene before you. Hawks was here in your apartment watching you make out with a villain he may or may not know. “Ke- ah Hawks! What, uh, are you doing here?” You barely register Dabi glaring at your longtime friend as your thoughts race a mile a minute.

Hawks is completely unsure of what the fuck he’s seeing. Why was he pressed up against you? Why was he here? How did you actually meet this burnt guy? “(Y/n), what’s going on? Do you, do you know him?”

You understand what he meant but you couldn’t meet his intense stare. Your avoidance answered his own question and he relaxes his shoulders. He had to keep his cool and pretend that he is completely unaware that a grade A villain was making out with his best friend. His stomach dropped at that realization, which confused him greatly.

He continued to stare at Dabi who had the most sinister grin. The temptation to hurt him was immense but he held back. His golden eyes didn’t miss your blown out eyes and pouty lips. You really wanted Dabi? What was wrong with him? He knows he’s been gone for over a month but…

There’s that feeling in his stomach again.

Dabi breaks the silence in the cramped hallway. “You gonna turn me in hero? Gonna arrest me for messing with someone who’s precious to the hero commission?”

Keigo whips out his sword-like wings and aims it for his neck, recreating a scene they’ve done before. “Watch yourself. What are you doing here?”

“Clearly I was invited. Why are you here?”

Hawks steps closer. “I’ll be asking the questions,” he seethes. “Just how the hell do you know (Y/n)?”

“Hawks, please.”

“I met her in that park you had been scoping out for weeks for her.” He oozes confidence in a sly way as he presses the tip of the wing into his own neck. “If you take me here, they’re gonna know you two broke the rules. And from what she’s told me she’s on a tight leash.

“Wouldn’t want her to be put in a tighter cage now would we?”

Your eyes finally meet Keigo’s and realization settles in. He lowers his weapon and his gaze on yours softens. Shit, how did things get so fucked in the weirdest way? “Dove, did you really meet him there? And you know that he’s-“

“A villain,” you finish for him. “Yes I know. I didn’t plan on talking to anyone, but he was anonymous to me at the time. It felt nice having someone to talk to.” You subconsciously wrap your arms around yourself and sink into yourself. Keigo cautiously approaches you and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

He sighs and then speaks, “I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to contact you and I wanted to check in on you. Guess I didn’t need to.” He steps away from you and you quickly felt colder.

“Hawks…”

“I’ll always be second won’t I?” He had meant to keep that to himself but the rhetorical question escaped his lips in a low whisper. You heard some of it and that made you heart lurch. Your heart had been going through a roller coaster the entire night.

Hawks then makes eye contact with Dabi. “Hey, can I talk to you? Alone.”

Dabi looks over to you and you nod at him and motion for the two of them to go out to your balcony. You walk back to your room and attempt to get a control on what was going on in your heart. How long had it been since you’ve had your heart torn and tugged in different directions? Ever since Dabi came in the picture and Keigo had gone undercover, your emotions had been a big jumbled mess and now it’s gotten more tangled.

The two men stand adjacent to the window, so only Hawks could potentially be seen from the outside. Hawks starts out first, “So this is who and where you’ve been running off to.”

Dabi scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Listen here bird brain, I still don’t like you or trust you. But (Y/n), she’s someone special to you isn’t she?”

“She’s my best friend since we were young,” he retorts.

“Hmm,” the ravenette ponders. “And how long have you been in love with her?”

That causes the blond to hesitate slightly at his response. Anger had dissipated from his being with just one question. “And how long have you had feelings for her huh?”

“You’re avoiding the question, hero. And what’s it to you? So what if I have feelings for her?”

Hawks chuckles darkly, “Shiggy isn’t gonna like that you know.” He stops to finally collect his own thoughts and how to handle this brand new information. “Look, I won’t tell anyone. Hero or villain, this stays between us.” The urge to cry hits him hard and he swallows it down as he always does whenever it comes to matters of his heart, especially regarding you. “And you better not hurt her.”

You had reentered the room to catch the last sentence Keigo says before meeting your eyes. He can tell that you heard what he had just said and slaps on a camera ready smile. You already know that those are fake, but you can’t imagine why he would fake a smile to you until you see his beautiful golden irises that shine like the sun.

They’re dull, somber, lacking the luster they usually have. And that makes your stomach do backflips. He flies out your window and into the cool night. Dabi comes up behind you and wraps his hands around your waist.

“Is he always this protective of you?”

You turn to face him and you glance up into his captivating eyes. This is a comfortable and welcoming place to be. But if Keigo made your stomach do backflips. Dabi’s made yours do frontflips.

And you weren’t sure which feeling was better or worse.

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

Taglist: @cupcake-rogue @shinsouskitten @luluwiie @kacchaneatsass @abonshit @kiribaku-queen

[cheeriecherry]

Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [4/9]

EraserMic x Reader

Part 4/8

Warnings: some descriptions of violence, therapy/doctor visit, some kiss

When Shouta and Hizashi wake up the next day, it’s to the smell of cooking food.

Unable to stay asleep, you’d given up and decided to be more productive with your time. You knew it was pretty rare for them to have time for breakfast, so you worked quickly to pull something appetizing together.

In any case, they both seemed to appreciate it, sipping their coffees and savouring the warmth of home made food.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Hizashi says, mouth full of food.

Shouta mumbles at him to stop being rude, but you just laugh, “You’ve still got the same shitty tastebuds, ‘zashi.”

It earns a smile from both your friends, but the blond does make an effort to swallow before speaking again.

“So, what’s on your agenda today, sweetcheeks?”

It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you, and not Shouta. Though you can’t imagine such a nickname for him, it’s still been a while since either of your friends have called you anything but your name. It’s a nice change, even if the way he says it makes your face heat up.

“Not much, actually,” you say, pushing an egg around your plate, “I have an appointment with the doctor at one, and I’ve got some sheets to fill out beforehand. I think I’m gonna put my energy into that, instead of trying to get a bunch of things done.”

You don’t miss the way Shouta perks up slightly, even though he doesn’t say anything. Hizashi, on the other hand, almost looks deflated.

“That’s so...grown up,” he mumbles.

Shouta sighs. “He means boring.”

“I know, Sho.”

“Why don’t you do something fun, too?” the blond continues, “Go shopping, get lunch, see the city, y’know?”

You mind flashes momentarily to the day before, and the catastrophe that had been the mall, and you cringe. “Yeah, after yesterday, I think I’m gonna limit my public appearances.”

And then you remember you’d never told either of them about your eventful afternoon.

“What happened yesterday?”

You groan quietly, and run a hand down your face. This wasn’t the conversation you wanted to have right now, but you supposed you brought it upon yourself. They wouldn’t let you off the hook, that was for sure.

“I...hand a panic attack at the mall. Crowds, and stuff.”

Hizashi eyes you suspiciously. “What else happened?”

“It’s fine,” you insist, “it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Y/N…”

Annoyance bubbles in your chest, and you snap, “It’s fine! Just some kid who tried to scare me. I’ve got it, so let it go.”

You’re all quiet for a moment, and you droop, pushing your plate away.

“I’m sorry,” you tell them, truthfully.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay-”

“It’s not okay! I shouldn’t be taking my frustration out on you guys, especially not after everything you’ve done for me.”

Like put them in danger.

“The mission I went on was just so...so…”

They know where I am. They already sent someone after me, remember?

“Stressful, I guess?”

The people I love are going to end up dead.

Shouta reaches across the table to brush his fingertips against yours, a small notion of comfort and support. “We get it, Y/N. That’s why I gave you that list in the first place.”

It’ll be my fault.

Hizashi takes your other hand, rubbing soothing patterns into your skin. “Yeah, honey. No matter what, we’re always gonna be here for you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, avoiding their gazes, and trying to push your thoughts down. But they’re loud, and they fill you with so much fear you can barely breathe.

Their devotion to me will get them killed.

“You…”

It’ll be my fault. Again.

In a quick motion, you tear away from their grasps and jump out of your chair, skittering a few feet back. “You shouldn’t promise things like that so blindly!” you cry, tucking your arms tightly against your body.

“Y/N-”

“No! You have no idea what kind of people I have after me! Letting me stay here is putting you guys in enough danger, I don’t need you fighting by my side!”

Shouta stands slowly from his seat, coming around the table quietly and making sure he doesn’t leave your line of sight. He manages to get about two feet from you before you’re shrinking away again, like some kind of frightened deer.

“You don’t deserve to die for me. And I certainly don’t deserve to have people like you on my rotten side.”

He reaches for you again, but you skirt around him and weasel away to the bathroom, where you shut the door and lock it.

You don’t bother turning the light on, opting to stay in the dark where no one can see you and you can’t see yourself. You can see your friends’ shadows under the door, hear their low voices, and you sink to the floor with tear filled eyes.

You hear one of them sit on the other side of the door, and it’s Shouta that speaks, “Y/N...whatever you think is going to happen to us, it won’t.”

You sniffle pathetically. “You have no idea how much power these people have. They kill pros all the time. All the time, Shouta.”

Hizashi says something from a few feet away, but his voice is muffled by the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Your friends talk back and forth for a moment, clipped and worried, and guilt washes over you.

I’m making them worry. Over nothing. They don’t deserve this.

A quiet knock on the door startles you. “You there still?” Shouta asks.

“Mhm…”

“Okay. I’m...I’m going to stay home with you today. Make sure you get to your appointment.”

Like a snap, you go from frightened, to frustrated and patronized. “I’m not a child! I don’t need someone to hold my hand everywhere I go! I’m fine!”

“Kitten, you’re hiding in the bathroom because you think people are after you.”

“People are after me, they made their message very clear! But it’s my battle to fight, and one I refuse to bring you two into. I’m going to do this on my own, appointment included.”

You’re all quiet for a bit, nothing but the sound of your own breathing in the lonely dark room. But a sigh eventually emanates from the other side of the door, and when Shouta speaks he sounds remarkably sad, “...we can’t force you to accept our help. But know that we’re here for you, whenever you need us. Always.”

You don’t reply to him, instead tucking your knees up to your chest while you finally let tears escape down your cheeks.

You remain like that until the sun comes up and floods the room with light, long after your friends have locked up and gone off to work.

----

You drum your fingertips against your thigh while you sit in the waiting room at the clinic. There weren’t many other people there with you, and all of them were more interested in their phones, but you couldn’t help feeling watched.

After your friends had left the house, you’d shamefully slinked out of the bathroom and back over to the couch. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep again, not without missing your appointment, so you’d set your energy into completing the needed forms.

Self assessments, symptom tracking records, confidentiality agreements, the like. It felt incredibly strange to be so honest about what you were going through, and a little piece of you wanted to lie and say you were okay, but logically you knew you’d get the best care if you told the truth.

You glance up at the front desk, where a receptionist is typing at her computer. Then, you glance at the clock on the wall. You were early, and though you’d only been in the building for five minutes it felt like time was dragging on.

You pull your phone out of your pocket with a shaky hand and open the news sites you’d been frequenting since coming home. You never found any updates on them, but they were the most reliable places you had access to, and-

You pause when a new article pops up.

‘Five suspects convicted after ties connecting them to drug trafficking, uncovered. Sixth suspect remains unfound.’

Your stomach sinks at the headline, and you click on the article.

‘Five individuals have been apprehended and sentenced after their involvement with one of the world’s largest international drugs trades is brought to light. Evidence strongly supports the presence of a sixth villain, though they remain elusive to the forces trying to bring them in.

A public warning has been issued, urging citizens and heroes to report any kind of suspicious activity…’

You stop reading after the first paragraph, staring blankly at your phone. So one of them had gotten away, just like you were worried about, and you had a pretty good idea of which one. The most wily of all six of them, and arguably the most dangerous. Smart, manipulative, a taste for violence.

Your heart rate begins to pick up, and you swallow the lump forming in your throat. If she was able to get away, then she knew she’d had people coming to get her, which meant she’d had information leaked to her, which possibly meant other information had been leaked alongside it, which meant-

An aura of unnatural calm washes over you, just as a woman comes to stand in front of you. You look up at her slowly, eyes wide and scared, but all she does is smile down at you.

“Miss Y/N?” she asks, and you nod. She offers a hand to you, which you politely take, and she gently pulls you to your feet. “I’m Nurse Himeno, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for using my quirk on you. You looked like you were having a hard time breathing.”

“It’s...fine.” Your tone is carefully devoid of any emotion, though the feeling of the womans’ hand in yours sends electric spikes up your arm.

“I’m a member of the daytime staff here,” she explains, leading you down a warm hallway lined with doors. “I handle patients who struggle with anxiety, be it chronic or trauma related. Since this is your first appointment here, the on staff physician, Doctor Masaki, will be seeing you today, to determine which programs will best fit your needs. Is that alright with you?”

You nod again, mumbling a quiet affirmation.

The two of you stop in front of a door, and Himeno ushers you inside. It’s...different than you imagined it would be; cozy and warm, with dim lighting, soft carpet, and pleasant artworks on the walls.

“Please take a seat, Miss Y/N. I’ll return shortly.”

You do as you’re told, sitting on the very edge of an overly plush chair. The calmness you’d felt slowly begins to fade, and your leg starts vibrating, thoughts beginning to race again.

You had to assume that the missing villain knew your location, as well as your involvement with the takedown of her subordinates. She’d be angry, furious, that she’d let you slip away. She wouldn’t be thinking straight.

If you could find a way to take advantage of that, she might be prone to rushing into things, to messing up and letting something slip. If you could catch her at unawares, you could have the upper hand...you could have a chance at beating her, before she got the chance to use her quirk.

It meant you’d most likely have to seek her out, ask around the local underground scene and see if anyone had any information on her. It would be risky, especially given your current state, but it would likely be your only opportunity. You’d have to keep it from Shouta and Hizashi, too, knowing that they’d try and stop you-

A wave of calm rushes over you again, and your thoughts stop in their tracks. Seconds later, Nurse Himeno and a woman you’re assuming is Doctor Masaki walk into the room.

“Good afternoon, Miss Y/N,” the doctor says, greeting you pleasantly before taking a seat across from you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you reply.

She taps at the tablet in her hand, scrolling around until she finds what she’s looking for. “I’ve reviewed the forms you submitted earlier today, regarding the symptoms you’re struggling with. Do you mind if we go over them?”

You nod.

“Alright. So...trouble sleeping, nightmares, intrusive thoughts, flashbacks, panic attacks...is there anything else on the list you weren’t able to mention?”

You slouch back in the chair, thinking to earlier in the day. “Agitation...uh, paranoia, I think. Guilt. I have trouble functioning sometimes, too. Like, today was the first time i showered all week, and I didn’t eat breakfast…”

“Why not?”

“...I was hiding in the bathroom.”

Doctor Masaki makes a few notes, and you idly pinch at the skin on your knuckles.

“Do you have any idea what may have triggered these kinds of responses? Trauma, a stressful event…?”

“Yeah.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, before she says, “I need to know what it is, dear.”

You fluster for a second, thoughts jumbled momentarily. “Oh- um. Okay, so. I was undercover for two and a half years...”

You go on to fully explain your situation, going into uncomfortable detail about the things you’d done and the things you’d witnessed, the things you were now dealing with, and your fears and stresses about the entire ordeal, including the recent arrests and villain misplacements.

“...and now I think one of them is here and out to get me, which is illogical, I know, but I’m so high strung all the time and I’m sick of having to constantly look over my shoulder, and wonder if I’ll come home to find the people I love dead!”

The calming aura surrounding you grows stronger, and though you try to fight it, you eventually let it be and fall back into your chair. All the while, the doctor makes more notes in what you assume is your case file.

“It sounds like a rough time,” she says, “Exhausting, too. It’s no wonder you’re experiencing so many symptoms; you’ve been through a lot.”

You twiddle your thumbs, waiting for her to continue.

“I think solo sessions would be a good place to start, twice a week, as well as some low dose medications to help you manage your anxiety and sleep. Does that sound agreeable?”

You shrug, not really knowing the answer. “Whatever you think is best, I guess…”

You talk a little bit more about private therapy and what sorts of things will happen there, as well as what kinds of medications you’re to start on. By the end of it when you’re leaving, prescription in hand, you’re beyond tired. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally.

You take a deep breath when you exit the building, letting the familiar smells of the city ground you.

You’d taken the train to the clinic earlier, but now you’re not sure you could manage being in such cramped quarters with other people (you barely handled it the first time). The walk home would take an extra fifteen minutes, but you were willing to foot that if it meant you wouldn’t have another panic attack.

----

Ten minutes later found you regretting your decision.

You hadn’t taken into account the fact that the train had an entirely different route than the one you needed to walk in order to get home, meaning you were smack dab in the middle of a run down neighborhood. Normally it wouldn’t bother you; you knew that most places like this held no danger.

But in your years working as a hero, this particular place had been notorious for mischief and small time villain activity. Sure, it was daytime, and you were physically capable of defending yourself, but the back of your mind was still on edge.

Keep your head low, walk fast, don’t make conversation, you think, speeding up your paces ever so slightly. You couldn’t see anyone on the street ahead of you, nor in the alleyways as you pass them...

You slow your steps again, hearing the soft echo of boots behind you. It was only a fraction of a second before the person matched your footsteps again, but it was enough time for you to know.

As you pass the next building, you dart into the narrow walkway beside it and find a place against the wall. Shortly after, a strikingly familiar hooded figure follows in suit, and you lunge.

Their back hits the brick with a thud, and they gasp as the air is forced out of their chest. You twist your fist in their sweater, pushing hard against their collarbone to hold them in place.

“Why are you following me!” you hiss, glaring up and down at the teen. Same as the other day, they’re in dark baggy clothes. The only difference is the grey mask covering the top half of their face, which is slightly askew from their struggling.

“What the hell, lady-”

“Cut the bullshit, you threatened me the other day, and now you’re tailing me. What do you want?”

They squirm for a couple more seconds, but eventually give up and slump against the wall. They looked tired, and a little nervous, but then so were you.

“You should keep your ears open, lady. You’re Y/N, right?”

You’re silent, and press them a little harder into the wall.

“Geez, you’re even more wound up than the other day! Relax, I’m not here on her behalf. I’m here to warn you!”

“What the fuck does that mean,” you hiss.

“I’m a vigilante!”

“Bullshit.”

“I swear!” by now they’re looking a little uncomfortable, and their breathing is slightly laboured. “I go by Oracle.”

You pause, then, grip loosening ever so slightly. You’d heard that name before, multiple times, from people who’ve complained over the years about a kid and their freaky quirk. One of the other names you’ve heard them called is Ill Omen, a messenger of death.

It’s bad news, if they’ve sought you out.

“Let’s pretend I believe you,” you say. “If you are who you say you are, then you know something. Tell me. Now.”

“If you could let me breathe-”

You release them, and they gasp for a few moments against the wall, rubbing the new undeniable bruise on their chest. They only take a few seconds of respite before they’re standing up again, staring at you with intense sincerity.

It’s a little unnerving.

“Like I said, I go by Oracle. My quirk lets me see the future, but only specific parts of it. And I don’t have control over whose futures I see-”

You roll your eyes. “I know who you are, kid. You see people’s deaths, and warn them about it.”

“Ehh…” the kid shrugs. “Close enough. Anyways, you. You have some powerful enemies, don’t you?”

“Assuming they know my identity and whereabouts, yes.”

“Best assume, then. In two weeks -I think- you’re going to die. A lot of people are. At the hands of a woman who calls herself Akuma.”

Your blood runs cold. Of course you’d assumed she would be the one to hunt you down, she was the only one of your targets who escaped capture, but hearing it spoken out loud has a much stronger effect than you’d expected. As if suddenly...the threat was real.

“Where?” you ask, “And what time of day?”

Oracle shrugs again, stuffing their hands in their pockets. “I...don’t know exactly. There were tall buildings, highrises, and a lot of people caught in the crossfire, so it was pretty busy.”

“That’s most of Japan.”

“That’s what I’m saying! Look, I only see the moments before a person dies, a couple seconds at most. I have to rely on visual cues in order to get the specifics.”

You step away from them, and start pacing around the alleyway. If their timeline was correct, then Akuma would already be in the country, no doubt. But if you still had some time before she struck, then it was likely she didn’t know your exact location. She wasn’t a patient person; if she had your whereabouts now, you’d already be dead.

I’m safe, for now. Shouta and Hizashi…

“Is there anything at all that you saw that could tip us off to a time?”

Oracle watches you walk back and forth. “I- there was a flyer in a shop window, dated two weeks from now, like I said. But I don’t know if that was the time it was happening, not for certain.”

You sigh deeply. Not certain, but certainly something.

“Can I know how I die?” you ask, quieter now. “I mean, I have a hunch, but…”

They scrunch their face up, in a way between disgust and a frown. “It’s kind of like. Akuma secretes this kind of...sludge? It looks like tar, reeks of despair-”

“-chokes the victim and makes them hallucinate while they drown. Yeah, I figured. Fuck, of all the ways to go.” Your mind dwells back to your partner while you were undercover, the only person you’d ever seen escape Akuma’s grasp.

Only to get a gunshot to the head.

Oracle takes a tentative step towards you, reaching out for a moment and then thinking better of it. They seem sympathetic, in a way, concerned, even though you’re a total stranger.

“Is it...not possible to escape?” They ask.

“It...is. Technically.” You turn to her, “The way Akuma’s quirk works is vile. Yes it causes hallucinations, and yes you suffocate if you’re under her control for too long, but it’s how she keeps her targets subdued.”

“How?”

“The tar she makes has a special property. As it soaks into the skin and overtakes you, it destroys the will to live. And it’s mighty hard to fight your way out of her clutches when you don’t see a reason to. You need a lot of willpower. And stubbornness.”

You fist a hand in your hair, and tug. You weren’t the kind of person who could get away from her. Maybe you used to be, but now? Now, you’re all but a ghost of the person you used to be, or a shell of the person you could become again. But not right now, you were too damaged, too weak.

You glance at Oracle. “I should go. Thanks for the heads up, kid.”

They reach out for you as you walk past them and back onto the street, barely missing the sleeve of your shirt. “Wait! If you want to live, you have to stay away from her-”

“Oracle...kid. You can’t save everyone. You’ve done your part, and where I go from here is up to me.”

“And where exactly is that?”

You don’t miss the frustration in their voice, but you pay it no mind.

“I don’t know.”

----

You startle at the sound of the front door closing, looking over from your spot on the couch. Some mediocre netflix show is playing quietly on the TV, but you hadn’t really been paying attention to it, too lost in thought.

Hizashi wanders into the room a couple seconds later, looking deceptively pleasant considering the way the day had started. He smiles at you from across the room, and tosses his jacket over the back of the couch, coming around to find a seat beside you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly, and you can’t help but smile.

“Hey ‘zashi. Where’s Shouta?”

“Late patrol. He should be home by midnight.”

You both fall quiet after that. Neither one of you want to address the tired atmosphere of the room. Neither one of you really want to bring up what happened earlier in the day. You certainly don’t want to talk about your visit from Oracle. But…

“Sorry I don’t have dinner ready today,” you begin, “I...kind of had a long day. I’ve been distracted since I got home.”

Hizashi rearranges himself on the couch, getting more comfortable as he turns to face you. “You had your appointment today, right? How’d it go?”

For a moment, you contemplate not telling him everything, of sparing him the details and only mentioning your appointment. You knew that wasn’t fair, though, and if you were going to get anywhere and improve, you had to let people in. And your best friends would be your first choice.

“It went okay. Doctor was nice, place was tidy. I’ve definitely got some kind of PTSD, but I’m pretty sure you guys already knew that.”

“Just a little.”

You shove him gently, a smile gracing your lips. It soon fades, though, giving way to the downtrodden expression you’d been wearing most of the afternoon.

“It’s actually not the doctor I’m stressing over,” you say, chewing on your lip. “Hizashi, I…”

You pause, taking a shaky breath. Hizashi leans closer, some inkling of youthful hope gleaming behind his eyes. You don’t know what he wants you to say, but the next words out of your mouth certainly aren’t it.

“I met someone today.”

You can physically see him deflate.

“That’s not what I thought you were going to say.”

You watch him carefully, wanting to ask what it was. Ask him anything, anything to get away from the conversation you’re about to have. “Have you ever heard of the vigilante called Oracle?”

All at once, his posture stiffens, and a wrinkle forms in between his pinched brows. He’s smart, you know he is, and you know he’s already figured it out. “The kid who predicts people’s deaths. You met with them?”

“They sought me out.”

“That’s even worse!”

He clearly stressed now, starting to fidget and pluck at the loose threads on his jeans. His gaze is focused on something far away, as the gears turn in his head.

“Please, please tell me they didn’t-”

“Two weeks from now,” you supply bitterly.

“Y/N…”

He looks heartbroken, like he wants to throw up and cry at the same time. You don’t blame him. If you were in his position, you’d be throwing a fit by now, trying to find ways to fix it, to make sure he was safe.

“Well, then maybe this is a good thing,” he says, ever the optimist. “You have a heads up. You can avoid-”

“No.”

He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, anger bubbling in his expression. “What do you mean ‘no’? Y/N, if you’re going to die, and you can get out of it-”

“Not for long!” You wince at the volume of your voice, shoving off the couch to pace around the living room. “Do you know who kills me, Hizashi? Akuma.”

“Who?”

“Akuma! She was my...boss, of sorts. While I was undercover. She escaped arrest. Oracle told me that I get caught in her quirk. I’ve only ever known one person who escaped it, and he’s dead.”

You come to a stop in front of him, slouched slightly, tears welled up in your eyes. “She’s so strong, ‘zashi. Unstoppable. Deadly.”

He stands up off the couch, taking up most of your personal space, but he doesn’t seem to care. “We can stop her. We’re heroes, it’s what we do. It might not be easy, but if we get the city on alert-”

“It’ll only delay her,” you shake your head, “She thrives in the underground world. She’s got connections. If I don’t face her now, I’m going to spend the rest of my life running.”

“But at least you’ll be alive!”

You’re both surprised and not, to see him lose his cool like that. He grips your shoulders tightly, holding you in place. “You can’t just give up and let yourself get taken down! Just because some kid says you’re gonna die, now you gotta? It was a warning, Y/N, a blessing, to get you to stay away!”

“I never said I was gonna throw my life away!”

“That’s exactly what confronting Akuma is!”

“It’s not!” You glare up at him, refusing to soften over the tears and desperation on his face, refusing to back down to his fears and worries. “I’m sick of always looking over my shoulder! I’m sick of being afraid, and angry, and tired, all the time! If doing this means I might get my freedom back, means I might win, then I’m doing it.”

“Or,” he spits, “you’ll end up dead.”

“Well, either way, it’s my life! And my choice!”

You move to shove him away, shake him off of you, but he only pulls you close and crushes you in a hug. He holds you tighter than you think he ever has, his fingers digging almost painfully into your skin where he grips you. You don’t even realize he’s crying, until a pathetic sniffle sounds in your ear.

“Please,” he whispers, voice wet and trembling. “Sweetheart, please. Sho and I...we thought we lost you once already. Please don’t do this.”

Slowly, you snake your arms around him, returning the gesture in a more gentle manner. Your own eyes water uncontrollably as you bury your face in his shoulder, dripping onto his shirt.

“I’m going to face her,” you say.

“Y/N, Oracle’s visions-”

“-Are a warning. I know when Akuma is going to strike, and I’ll be ready. Hizashi, I promise.”

He pulls back slightly, releasing you from his hold enough so that he can rest his forehead against yours, and for a moment, your feelings for him resurface. His soft breath fanning across your face, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into your arms. You want to tell him more than ever now, how you feel about him. If you were going to die, you couldn’t bear something like that being unspoken.

“‘Zashi, I need to tell you something else.”

Your gazes connect, then, his eyes piercing and swimming with so many emotions. Your words die in your throat, lost in the moment. The moment where there is no Akuma, no impending death...just the two of you, holding each other close, silently sharing the love you feel for one another.

He looks so tired, so scared, but behind it all there is a fierce determination and a fiery hope.

If you’re going to die, you don’t want those words left unspoken.

“I-”

But he already knows what you're going to say, so he cups your face, and cuts you off with a kiss.

[bluesfortheredj]

Hitsuzen

Hitsuzen - A naturally foreordained event. A state in which other outcomes are impossible.

Chapter 5.

“Right…” Charlie trails off, unsure of what he should say next, “well we’ll be questioning him tomorrow anyway, so I’m sure things will become clear then. Probably just a coincidence.”

“Come on,” you smirk, “you don’t believe that! The months I’ve worked with him he’s seemed okay, moans a bit about his ex wife and tries to convince Evie to talk him, but apart from that… well, he has a bit of a temper sometimes, but poison would mean it was pre-meditated, right?”

“Look at you playing detective,” Charlie grins, “poison would suggest that, but then again it would depend on what poison was used and whether it could be something that someone would have to hand or had to get for the sole purpose of killing someone. Also, what do you mean tries to convince Evie to talk to him?”

“Ah! I’ll have to see what we have in the classroom that could be used to kill someone,” you say as Charlie shakes his head with a laugh, “well, he always calls Evie his favourite girl but whenever they’ve met she just hides in the crook of my neck like with most people, so there’s no actual rapport there with her yet he seems to think there is. Actually, Sarah pissed him off this morning by mentioning that Evie had taken a shine to you.”

“I’m just that special,” he winks.

“That you are,” you agree, quickly sipping on your wine to hide your face again.

“Not quite as special as you though.”

You giggle again, the second time this evening already, then suggest getting something to eat so you can both hold up menus to blush behind instead of your glasses, and Charlie ignores your insistence on paying for your own meal and quickly rushes up to the bar to order and pay, being careful not to knock himself out on the low wooden beams. He happily returns to the table with fresh drinks and you give him an annoyed yet thankful look as he places yours down next to your empty glass, then he sits down and takes a moment to look at you.

“What was Evie’s dad like?” he asks after a couple of minutes.

You raise your eyebrows at the question before shuffling around in your seat, then clear your throat before answering, “he was, uh… well, he… he was very loving. Would always jump in to defend someone if he thought they needed help, no matter if it were someone he knew or a complete stranger, he’d get right in there. He was like you in the way that he was born to be a dad; you can just see it in some people sometimes, even if they don’t realise it at the time.”

“That’s kind of you to say,” Charlie smiles.

“He could make you feel safe with one look, didn’t even have to be near you for you to know everything would be okay. I was absolutely terrified when I found out I was pregnant, it wasn’t exactly planned, and I was freaking out… crying, hyperventilating, everything! Then I look at him and that was it, I just stopped because I suddenly knew we could do it. He gave me that look just before he went out that day, there was no real reason for him to, but as he said goodbye he just did it like he knew what was going to happen,” you take a breath before looking up at Charlie who is staring intently at you, listening to everything you have to say so sincerely, “yeah. Anyway...”

“He sounds like a really lovely person.”

“He was,” you nod, looking away again, “you two would have got along like a house on fire.”

“You think?”

“For sure! You’re both…” almost the same person but in different bodies? No, that would be weird, “…quite similar from what I’ve seen. And Evie… well, she certainly likes you. She actually asked where you were this morning.”

“She did?!” Charlie gasps, “aww my goodness, could she be any cuter?! What did you say?”

“I said that after all of the Charlie night kisses you gave her, you had to go home and sleep.”

Charlie chuckles as he picks up his pint glass, “I must say, I’ve never given out more than one night kiss, so two was exhausting.”

“I’ll let her know she’s limited to one in future,” you wink, “anyway, enough about me, tell me about you!”

“Not a lot to say really!” he sighs, “no kids, only ever had one long term relationship which ended due to infidelity on her part, and… yeah that’s pretty much it. Moved here a couple of years ago and don’t regret a thing about it.”

“That’s good that you’re happy here, you seem really content as a person which is lovely to see.”

Your dinners are served and silence finally falls upon the table as you both tuck into the meals hungrily with only brief stolen glances at one another during your eating time. It was strangely fortuitous how well you both got along and you couldn’t help but hope for another meet up with him already. You finish your dinner first, your fingers stroking the base of your wine glass as you watch him take the last few bites of his own meal, and you smile to yourself when you notice that his deep brunette hair has hints of blonde in it from where the sun has caught it.

“What?” he asks, looking up at you when he’s swallowed the last bite, “have I got something on my face?”

“No,” you laugh, “you’re all good!”

“Phew!” he sighs before clearing his throat, “can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Would you like to do this again sometime?”

“Yeah I would like that,” you nod.

“Good, good,” he grins, “fancy dessert?”

You check your watch quickly then agree to dessert, this time you rushing up to the bar to order and pay before he even gets his leg out from underneath the table and you return triumphantly as you wave the receipt about. Charlie has a knack for making you laugh but you’re soon exiting the pub to walk to his car, and you suddenly realise you can’t remember the last time you’d had such a lovely evening as you link your arm through his and he leans into your body.

“Thank you for tonight,” you smile as you stand outside your front door feeling like a teenager again.

“No, thank you for being the perfect date.”

You look away shyly but meet his haze within a matter of seconds as you feel him continue to watch you, then with one flick of the eyes to one another’s lips you both slowly move forwards and tilt your heads slightly until a long kiss is exchanged between the two of you. Charlie’s arms wrap around your back as yours slide up his shirt to rest upon his broad shoulders, then the kiss comes to a reluctant end and you stand there for a moment enjoying the embrace you found yourselves in. He leans in once more, unable to resist another taste of your sweet lips, and this time his tongue runs steadily across your bottom lip with you parting them to allow him access. It’s another couple of minutes with you pressed against your own front door before the two of you part again, this time soft giggles emanating from both of you as you look nervously away from one another.

“I’ll see you soon (Y/N),” Charlie smiles once the nerves have dissipated.

“Yeah, see you soon Charlie,” you sigh as your arms slide down from his shoulders when he steps back.

“Really soon,” he nods.

You turn and enter the house, hearing him open and shut his car door behind you, then as soon as you’re inside you lean against the wall and slide down onto the floor in a lovestruck mess. Your self indulgent moment doesn’t last long when Sarah rings to make sure you’re home for Evie’s drop off, and you quickly go upstairs to change into your pyjamas before they both arrive.

“Hey,” Sarah whispers, holding a sleeping Evelyn in her arms, “how did it go?”

“Oh bloody hell Sarah,” you groan as you take Evie off of her gently, “we kissed.”

“Eek!” she squeals quietly, “wait, why do you say it like that?”

“It’s too perfect isn’t it? I meet this handsome guy who Evie seems to adore from the get go, he appears to like me as much as I like him and… well… it’s too good to be true,” you let out a sigh as you lay Evelyn down on the sofa temporarily.

“No sweetie,” she smiles warmly, “it’s fate!”

“Don’t you start! You’re just like John.”

She looks at you with narrowed eyes, then huffs as she puts her hands on her hips, “you’ll see! Anyway, see you in the morning. I’m so glad everything went well!”

“Thank you Sarah, and thank you for looking after Evie. See you tomorrow.”

You shut and lock the door behind her then take Evie up to bed before laying in your own room thinking about how those dormant butterflies in your stomach had now suddenly come back to life, and eventually you drift off, only to be woken by the alarm in the morning. It’s a bit of a rush to school as Evelyn fussed over her breakfast and tried to go on hunger strike because you’d run out of bananas, but after you hurry down the corridor to the staff room you find Adam there with a waiting cup of coffee again.

“That’s very much needed today!” you breathe as you take the mug and start sipping straight away.

“Is everything alright? What’s wrong? Bad date?”

Sarah audibly laughs from a few steps away at hearing the last question and you widen your eyes at her before looking at Adam, “I’m fine, breakfast was a rush though.”

Three raps of knuckles sounds out on the staff room door before Adam can try to pry any further and when Sarah walks over to open it she finds her husband staring back at her with Charlie at his side.

“John!” Sarah gasps, “come in.”

“Thank you,” he nods, “we’re here to speak to an Adam Carter...”

Everyone in the room turns to look at Adam, including you, and both John and Charlie walk towards where you stand next to him.

“Adam Carter?” he questions.

“Yes… what’s this about?”

“I’m Chief Inspector Barnaby and this is Sergeant Nelson… we’re here to ask you to come down to the station and answer some questions about the man who was found on school grounds a couple of days ago,” he says matter-of-factly.

“What? I don’t know him!” Adam protests.

“We have reason to believe that you do. Please accompany us to the station where we can sort everything out,” he says, forcing a smile, “or Nelson here will have no other option but to arrest you.”

@lv7867 @lovemarvelousfics @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @timeandpixiedust @the-baby-bookworm @pink-lemo @chlobo6 @queenslandlover-93 @misslolasworld @killer-queen-87 @drivenbybri @itsametaphorgwil

[biillyhargroves]

Billy survives the Mindflayer but gets a TBI that largely presents with migraines and aphasia. This pisses his dad off but Steve/Kids/Hopper save/protect him.

you got me(fic requests open)

The first thing Billy becomes aware of as he wakes is the throbbing ache inside his skull. It grips him, squeezing tight around his right temple and stabbing needles behind his eye. He can hear voices, though no words drift through the fog of his drug-addled brain. He can feel the IV tugging at the crook of his arm, can feel the cool trickle of medication dripping into his veins. Billy tries to open his eyes, but a bright light harsh against white walls assaults them and he hisses, throwing his untethered arm across his face to shield himself. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he hears, and then there are hands on him- a light and gentle touch on his arm, on his shoulder. He feels a shadow move over him and he peeks between his fingers to see a tangle of red hair hovering above him. “Are you okay?” Max asks. 

Billy swallows thickly against a wave of nausea and utters a single, rasping word: “Hurts.”

He hears something- footsteps, he thinks -but he is out cold before he finds out who they belong to. When he wakes again, the room is dark. He shifts in bed, and again hears a soft, “Hey, hey, hey,” from someone sitting beside him. The voice is deeper this time, and the hand on his shoulder is strong and firm. Billy turns his head, groaning as the movement sends a ripple of pain down the back of his skull and all the way down his neck. 

“Th’fuck,” he murmurs. “Harrington?” 

“You remember,” Steve says. “I’m touched.”

“Fuck off.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like Billy Hargrove’s still in there.”

Billy wants to tell him to fuck off again, but the words evaporate on his tongue. He tries anyway and his voice cracks in a way that would embarrass him if he weren’t so focused on the unrelenting ache pulsing in his head. His breath hitches, and he feels Steve tense as he rises. 

“Woah, okay,” Steve says. “It’s okay. Should I call a nurse? You need something?”

Billy wants to tell Steve to fuck off again, wants to say anything to get him out of the room. He tries to push himself up to prove that he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but pain spreads like a wildfire across his chest and the room begins to tilt. He finds himself suddenly breathless, unable to fight against the heat in his throat. Billy swears and falls back against the limp pillows, frustrated and spent. Steve says something, but Billy can’t make out the words. He squeezes his eyes shut, and when he opens them again Steve is holding a small plastic cup out to him. Billy stares at it, then closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“No?” he hears Steve ask. Billy lets the question linger. In time, he hears Steve set the little cup down and lean back in his chair. He thinks he hears Steve say something else, but has faded too far into sleep to make sense of it.

The third time Billy wakes it is to harsh light and a loud voice. He can’t keep is eyes open; the sharp overhead bulbs burn his eyes and the sting feels like it reaches all the way into his brain. He can feel a shadow passing over him- back and forth and back and forth. This person is angry. This person keeps pointing at Billy. This person is his father. 

Billy can’t make out a word that Neil is saying. He tries, but between the drugs and the throbbing in his head he can’t piece together all the furious sounds spilling from his father’s mouth. Billy squeezes his eyes shut as tight as he can, even though the force of it makes him want to puke, because he thinks that he can force himself to sleep again - he wants to escape, somehow. To get away. To find safety in the dark. 

---

The doctors say he has a brain injury.

No one tells this to Billy directly, but he pieces it together from conversations that happen when people think that he is asleep. The migraines are a result of that, and he is prescribed painkillers that his father withholds when Billy is finally allowed to go home. He can man the fuck up as far as Neil is concerned, though Max sees the agony this puts her brother in. 

His speech, even weeks later, is limited to short phrases often including some type of expletive. He struggles to get words out, which Neil cannot stand. Max hears them early in the morning and late at night and every hour in between. Neil will ask questions and demand answers, and Billy will take too long stringing words together, and Neil will hit him like he always does. Billy retreats to his bedroom, locks the door, sleeps in the dark until Neil accuses him of being lazy and the cycle starts all over again. 

He feels trapped. He is not allowed to drive in his condition, and although doctor’s orders aren’t enough to stop Billy Hargrove, his car is far from fixed. Neil won’t spend the money to repair it, and Billy is too sick to earn a paycheck. 

Max gets Billy to go on walks whenever she can. They walk to the arcade, and into the woods to Hopper’s cabin. Hopper has the shed to Billy- “It’s not much, but it’s an escape, if you need one,” he tells him, and more than once he’s found the kid asleep in a nest of old bedding. 

Steve, too, has pitched in to help. He drives Max and Billy home when Billy is too tired to walk. He takes Max to all the places Billy is usually in charge of taking her, like school and the arcade and the video store to rent something she thinks Billy might like (he hasn’t been able to make it through a full movie yet, all the colors and loud noises irritating him an hour in, but a movie night feels normal, and Billy will take whatever scraps of normal he can get). 

Max’s friends warm up to him slowly. 

It is Will who offers the first olive branch. He answers the door when Billy and Steve are dropping Max off for a game of D&D. He asks Billy if he wants to come inside, and Billy- with Steve and Max’s encouragement -accepts. He sits off to the side, using a pair of Jonathan’s headphones to drown out the noise in the room. Before he leaves, Will assures him that things will get better, and while Billy doesn’t understand what he means, he finds the kindness endearing. He grunts in response, unsure of how to hold such softness properly, but each time he finds himself thrown amongst his sister’s friends, it is Will who checks in with him- who checks in on him.

Eleven spends more and more time at the Mayfield-Hargrove house. She watches Neil closely, and once Billy has even put himself between Eleven and his father when Neil caught on to her scrutiny. Neil’s rage redirected easily to his son, but his rant was cut short when the floor seemed to suddenly drop beneath him. He fell, swearing and angry, and couldn’t pull himself back up. Max had pulled Billy out of the room and out the front door, and when El joined them, there was a small trickle of blood coming from her nose.

They went back to Mike’s that night, and Billy made sure to avoid Mrs. Wheeler as Max led him to the backyard where Steve and Jonathan and Nancy were already engaged in conversation. They let him sit quietly among them, not asking questions about the bruises, not pressuring him to speak. Steve asks once if Billy is okay, and Billy merely grunts in response. Steve does not press, but does pass a bottle of water to Billy when he notices him pinching at the bridge of his nose- a warning, a way to ward off the pain. 

Steve drives him home that night- him, and Max, and El. The girls keep Max’s bedroom door open, and sleep in a nest of blankets on the floor so that they can see into Billy’s room- not to spy on him, but to protect him.

Billy keeps his door open, too, and when he hears his father’s footsteps coming down the hall, he feels relief instead of dread as his door swings close of its own- or, more accurately - Eleven’s accord, and Neil is shut out - unable to touch him, unable to hurt him. 

[starkravinghazelnoots]

his eyes

(in which which pepper can’t get a stranger’s face out of her mind and doesn’t have a damn clue as to why)

pepperony week day 7: au

based off of “Mr. Monk Is Up All Night”, which you can watch here

~*~

“And you’re sure you don’t know him?”

Pepper sighed, absentmindedly running a hand through her hair. “I swear, Rhodey. He bumped into me at the store, and I dropped one of my bags. He apologized and helped me pick up my groceries. We laughed it off and went our separate ways. That’s it.” She cracked her neck. Her body had been stiff with tension over the past few days. “And now I can’t get his face out of my head.”

Rhodey rubbed his chin. “Are you sure you’re not…” He gestured vaguely with his hand. “Attracted to him?”

Pepper sent the man a dubious glare. “He was half my age, James.” Not to mention that there was only room for one man in her heart, even if two years had already passed since his death. She still wore her ring. And, if she had her way, she was never going to stop wearing her ring.

Rhodey chuckled. “Alright, alright.” He shrugged. “I’ve got nothing, then. Did he…” He gestured to his face. “Have any distinctive characteristics? Something that’s sticking out in your memory?”

Pepper frowned, closing her eyes as she visualized the boy’s face. He’d been of Hispanic descent, with pretty average features. Small-ish nose, brown eyes, defined cheekbones. “Not that I can remember. He looked pretty plain.”

“And you didn’t catch his name?”

“If I had, I’d be out tracking him down myself and we would not be having this conversation!” she snapped. She then winced at the harshness of her tone. “Sorry. I’m just… frustrated.”

“I know, Pepper.” Rhodey offered her a sympathetic smile. “But we’ll figure this out. I’m glad you asked me to come over instead of trying to work through it on your own.” He glanced at his watch, sighing. “Unfortunately, I need to head on out if I plan on getting any sleep before work tomorrow. You need to get some rest, too.” He glanced at her face, frowning. “You’ve got some serious bags under your eyes. When was the last time you slept?”

Pepper would have laughed at his question, had that not been a totally inappropriate reaction. How was she supposed to explain that she hadn’t slept in the past two - three? - days because every time she shut her eyes all she could see was the mystery boy?

She couldn’t explain it. So she didn’t.

“I’ve had a couple of rough nights. No big deal.”

Rhodey clearly didn’t believe her, but much to her relief, he didn’t press her for a more detailed answer. “Alright.” He stood up and stretched his back before leaning down and kissing her cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe with fresh minds we’ll able to figure out what’s so weird about this grocery boy.”

Pepper managed a small smile at his comment. “Thanks, Rhodey.”

“Anytime.” After that, the colonel left, letting himself out and locking the door behind him. Pepper couldn’t bring herself to get out of her chair.

It was moments like these where Tony’s absence was most palpable. There was no one there to put a blanket over her shoulders. No one there to bring her a cup of steaming tea with exactly one and half spoonfuls of honey. No one there to press a kiss to the top of her head and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

Pepper hadn’t realized she’d started crying until she felt a tear fall onto her wedding band and slowly drip down her finger.

God, she missed him.

Going to bed wasn’t an option. Pepper knew both her body and mind desperately needed sleep, but the thought of lying in bed with pillows that still smelled of Tony was too much to bear.

Worse, every time she tried to relax, her thoughts would drift back to the boy from the store. Why? What was so special about him? What connection had he unintentionally formed with her?

She was probably overthinking it. There was no way she’d ever see him again, so surely it was better to forget they’d ever met.

That realization was startling. She was never going to see him again. She’d never know why his face was occupying her thoughts for hours on end.

She had to do something,

Huh. It looked like she was going to be tracking him down herself after all.

Pepper fired off a quick text to Happy.

P. Potts: I need you to watch Morgan for me. Be here in 15.

H. Hogan: Now? It’s after midnight!

P. Potts: I know. See you soon

Happy had never been able to argue with her, which admittedly was a fact Pepper tended to use to her advantage. But she did appreciate that he hadn’t asked why she was still awake at this time of night. Or morning, rather.

While she waited for him to arrive, Pepper decided to start her research.

“FRIDAY,” she called, moving over to the small workstation she and Tony had shared, though Tony had certainly used it more often than she did. “I need to track someone down. Can you help me do that?”

“I will try my best, Miss Potts.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.” Pepper took a deep breath before she began to describe the boy. FRIDAY created a hologram in front of her to match the description. Afterwards, Pepper went through the fine details, instructing the AI to make his eyebrows thinner, his nose smaller, his lips more rounded.

“Alright,” Pepper finally said. “Can you run his face through every New York database and see if we get a hit?”

“Of course, Miss Potts. But I should warn you that the odds of getting a match are significantly smaller because we are working solely off your memory.”

“I know. Thank you, FRIDAY.” Silence fell, interrupted only by the quiet humming of FRIDAY’s software as she ran facial recognition through all known New York databases.”

“Wait a minute…” Pepper mumbled, eyes widening as she jumped to her feet. Clothes… What had he been wearing? She started pacing, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “He was dressed in some kind of uniform. Black pants, and a white button-down shirt with some kind of golden patch-thing on each shoulder.”

“A cab driver?” FRIDAY suggested.

“That could be it,” Pepper mused. “Change of plan, FRIDAY. See if his face matches any ID photo for cab drivers across New York.”

In less than five minutes, they had a hit.

“His name is Lucas Santiago,” FRIDAY explained. “He works for Golden Star, a locally run cab company. He works night shifts every Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday, until one am.”

“Which means if I leave now, I might be able to catch him,” Pepper finished. “Okay. FRIDAY, I need you to get all this information into my phone, including the address of Golden Star. I also want you to prepare a donation for the company - double whatever their annual revenue is before taxes.”

“Yes, Miss Potts.”

Pepper glanced at the clock on the wall. 12:32. She’d be cutting it close, but she could make it.

She had to know.

Lucas Santiago.

Why does your face haunt me?

~*~

The moment Happy arrived, Pepper practically ran out the door, pausing only to promise him that she’d explain everything when she got back.

She arrived at Golden Star six minutes after one, and had broken several speed limit laws in doing so.

“Lucas Santiago,” she gasped as she ran up to the front desk, where a petite old woman - presumably a dispatcher - was standing. “I need to speak with Lucas Santiago. It’s a matter of personal importance.”

“You just missed him, dear,” the woman said apologetically. “He left out the back. If you cut across the parking lot, you might be able to catch him.”

Pepper’s “thank you” had barely left her lips before she turned around to race through the parking lot. She silently wished she’d worn better shoes.

Then she caught sight of slender young man checking his phone beneath a street lamp on the sidewalk next to the edge of the parking. “Lucas!” she called, hastily making her way towards him. “Lucas Santiago!”

The boy looked up upon hearing his name, tucking his phone away. His expression was wary at first, but then he seemed to realize he was being called by a tired-looking woman and not some creep with a gun. “Yes? Is there something I can do for you, ma’am?”

Pepper had to pause to catch her breath. “I’ve been looking for you,” she finally managed to say. “All night.”

Lucas frowned, his brow furrowed in confusion. “For me? Why?”

Pepper opened her mouth to provide an answer, but found she did not have one. “I - I don’t know.” How was she supposed to explain to the poor boy that ever time she closed her eyes, all she could see was his face?

She glanced down at his arm, the tattooed string of numbers catching her eye. “10-17-23,” she murmured, her voice catching in her throat. “Oh my God. That’s the day my husband died.”

Lucas touched his arm. “It’s the day I was reborn, ma’am. At least that’s how it felt.” He offered her a soft smile. “I had a disease. Retinitis pigmentosa. I was going blind, so my parents scraped together everything we had to send me to America for surgery -”

“- and you had a cornea transplant,” Pepper whispered, covering her mouth as she fought back tears. “From… Tony?”

Lucas nodded, surprised. “Yes. Tony… Anthony S.”

“Oh my God,” she sobbed, unable to hold back the overwhelming flood of feelings. “My husband.” His eyes… It had been his eyes the entire time. That was why she couldn’t get his face out of her mind.

Every time she looked into his eyes, she was seeing Tony, alive and well.

Tears started to trickle down the Lucas’s cheeks. “I - I have his corneas,” he stammered. “Your husband - he saved my life.”

Almost in a trance, Pepper reached up and traced a tear down the boy’s face. “Tony’s eyes…”

Lucas shook his head, his hand moving up to rest on top of hers, his fingers brushing over her wedding ring. “I am - I am so sorry.”

Pepper cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing just underneath his eye. “Don’t be,” she whispered, offering him a gentle smile. “You’ve let me look into my husband’s eyes. One last time. And I -” She paused, allowing a choked sob to escape her lips. “I couldn’t be more grateful.” She reached up to wipe her face with her sleeve. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Lucas didn’t respond, instead slowly leaning forward until their foreheads touched. Time stood still as a period of vulnerability was made between two complete strangers, two people connected by a force more powerful than the both of them.

And when Pepper shut her eyes, all she could see was Tony smiling back at her.

~*~

i’m not totally sure if this counted as an au, since really not much has changed, but i based it off a tv episode so i figured it was okay?? i hope y’all enjoyed!

[primedirection]

Dead to me

In which Harry does the unthinkable

Warning: Angst

AN: Idk about you but I like the pain

These past three years have been an absolute rollercoaster. It had it's ups, it's loops, and right now it's downs.

It had been building up over a couple months. Harry could be the sweetest enchanting soul and he could be the coldest. Giving even the devil a run for his money. It was what you like to call 'On season'. The season where he was in the studio everyday, and when he wasn't in the studio he was out with mates 'finding inspiration' until the sun came up. The one where only some nights he'd have the gall to send you a 'Don't wait up!' text, instead of just leaving you to stay up and worry until he walked through the front door again. But during 'On season' even when he was home it wasn't much better. He'd either sleep the day away to recover from the nights he went out, or he'd spend them locked in his study going over the soon to be promo schedule bound to drag him away from you as well. Those days he hardly spoke a word to you.

Like everything else in this relationship, part of the blame fell on yourself. It's not like you didn't know what you signed up for. You knew how massive his role was in this world, how important and how hard he had to work to keep his career thriving. How much he meant to people around the world and what they meant to him. It's why during 'On season' you bit your tongue until it sometimes bled to dejectedly leave him be instead of starting a potential argument by asking him to spend some time with you. And perhaps that's where you went wrong because you let it build until it reached your limit.

Tonight started like the many. Harry starting his day in the studio and ending it in a club somewhat drunk. Unsuccessfully sneaking inside at four in the morning to lay down on the sofa to sleep it off, but you were there already up waiting on him. Not that he was even slightly surprised to see you there.

He merely sighed raking his fingers through his short disheveled hair before dropping his keys off and shrugging off his coat. Slurring, "Shit, could've sworn I text you,"

The lack of a genuine apology in his carefree reply had overstimulated the animosity building up inside you and spilling out of your mouth without a second thought. Scoffing, "That would require you to think of someone other than yourself for once. Obviously something you're not capable of,"

You didn't mean that, you swear you didn't but once you started it was impossible to stop. At the sound of your tone he momentarily paused before visibly wilting. With a new type of lag in his step as he approached. The closer he got the better you could see the cold bleary green of his heavily lidded eyes, and the dark circles under them to match.

"Please, please don' fuckin start. I'm tired, you're tired let's just go t' bed and start over tomorrow when-"

"No! Fuck that! All I've been doing is waiting! Waiting for you to take a break, waiting for you to come home, waiting for you to fucking acknowledge that I even exist!" You shout absolutely fed up.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and it immediately reminds you of the first time you had this argument. Back then the gesture used to calm him down. He looked up afterwards with remorse in his eyes, hurt that he hurt you and it ended in a sincere apology and the most intense love making you've ever had. But now when his hand dropped he looked nothing short of furious. Nostrils flared, lips pressed tight, jaw clenched, and brows pulled tight enough to create the famous crease his fan girls loved so much.

"Alright then, c'mon! Lay your shit on top of the even bigger pile I have on my plate! Hurry up and blame me for everything so I can get to fucking bed already," he seethes through bared teeth.

"Oh come off it, you're not the damn victim here, Harry. If you're really so got damned tired then maybe you should try sleeping at night instead of partying all the damn time!"

Harry flinches at first, that taken aback. He thought you understood more than anyone just what he'd been working so hard toward. So just as quick he becomes really angry, chest heaving and unable to refrain from storming toward you and shouting back, "I've been fucking working! You know good and well networking and being seen is apart of my job. I can't afford to be a damn hermit!"

"Every single night? Really?"

"You don't seem to have a problem with that when the bills come in. Not that you've ever seen one," He glares maliciously.

Now that actually hurt, like taking a punt in the gut hurt. You were left breathless all the same. Gasping, "Harry,"

And yet he still wasn't done. "No if you're gonna attack me for being 'selfish' then I get to defend myself when you're being ungrateful!"

"Ungrateful, are you kidding me? I've made sacrifices just to be here with you Harry! I'm the one that comes running to your every beck and fucking call. Whenever and wherever you're lonely, tour included! When your so called friends bail I'm the only one left to take care of you!" Adrenaline courses through you so intense your hands won't stop trembling.

"Wow, I didn't realize flying out for a fuck was such a big deal. You made those choices to come, I didn't force you! And s' not like you didn't get something in return for it anyway,"

Your heart nearly shattered at how vile he painted that experience. The lowest blow he could ever make. Those memories truly meant the most to you. "And it's not like I asked you buy me shit!" You fumed.

"So you're just gonna ignore this fancy fucking house we live in? As if it wasn't your idea, hmm? The nice cars you drive, the endless flights back and forth for your family because you can't be alone for one damn day, the five star hotels, the fucking trips that I take you on-"

"That's not the point, Harry!" You damn near shriek overwhelmed, tears pouring freely down your cheeks, "I don't care about any of that!"

"You don't care? You don't care and I've been working my ass off for it. Really?" In that moment something snapped inside of Harry, like a switch. His stress and rage merging into one and swelling like a balloon, desperately needing some kind of release.

"Harry you know I—"

"No, I know exactly what you meant! Fuck all this shit right? You don't care?" Harry suddenly goes on a rampage. Starting with the first shelf that you built together when you first moved in, lined with pictures of both of you from milestones over the years. With rabid force you've never seen him use he tosses it over face first. Shattering most if not all the frames on the tiled floor. The shelf itself splitting in half.

Leaving you screaming, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"You're what's wrong with me!" He shouts and then went another shelf. One that contained both of your favorite childhood photos.

"Harry stop!" You plead shielding your eyes as shards of debris fly all over the place.

"I've been working myself so hard! Practically to an early grave for this— for you?!" He began stalking towards the fireplace and your heart stopped. He wouldn't, would he?

As he shows no signs of letting up you panic and desperately beg, "Harry stop! Please don't —" but he doesn't care and you are too late to physically stop him.

The sounds of glass breaking as he swept his hands over the mantle was enough to startle you but there was a crash of one particular item that sent your heart shattering with it.

A container that hadn't even been a year old yet. Your feet carried you over to the mess without your brains comprehension or a single care that Harry's tirade moved on to a different shelf. Nor about the shards of glass that stung both your knees as they tore your skin open or Harry eventually demanding what the hell you were doing. All you registered was the slight cloud of dust resonating in the air and the actual pool of ashes spread about all over the floor.

Ashes that belonged to your father. Just everywhere.

Harry had heard you cry before plenty of times, not that he was proud of it. But there was something eerily disturbing and heart wrenching about the way you were trembling and sobbing uncontrollably now. As upset as he was it made him stop dead in his tracks. He instinctively assumed that you had been hurt given your collapsed positon. Immediately he felt guilty but that multiplied by ten fold once he rushed closer to your side to help.

At first he didn't understand how you could be covered in dirt so suddenly and then the realization set in that it wasn't dirt at all. He fucked up and he fucked up irrevocably.

Hardly even a year ago your father passed from cancer and you had been waiting to scatter his ashes on his birthday. Harry knew that. He just didn't know that you moved him there on the mantle he all too recently destroyed.

Pretty soon he found himself on his knees cursing and pleading. His hands shaking too now grabbing at broken shards of glass, "Shit! Shit baby, I didn't mean tha'! I didn't know he was there I swear it! Shit. M' so sorry. I'll fix it, I'll get you a new one I promise,"

Your father's death took the hardest toll on you that he's ever seen, and once again it was resurfacing. He broke you.

Your feedback is always appreciated!

Part 2

[proxylynn]

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #18

Chapter 18: Apprehension

WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^

It's eerily calm when Papyrus finds himself crawling out of bed. Something compels him. A strange feeling that something is amiss. He knows not but certainly will find out why. Leaving his bedroom, the great and terrible Papyrus has a very unnerving chill run up his spine. The front door is wide open and the human is absent from the living space. That stupid girl is going to lose some teeth for this. Looking around, Sans's room door is also open and the flower is strangely missing from sight. This continued to not feel right even more as he made his way down the currently frosty opening in his impregnable stronghold. Up to this point, all had been silent with not so much as even the faintest blowing of the wind. Yet once he came to where the couch sat, that's when he heard an all too familiar sound...pain. But this was not your average grunt of ache or gasping whimper, no, not the slightest. For the voice that makes this has the steadfast heart of stone Second-in-Command of the Royal Guard almost fall to his knees from the shock. Quickly he rushes outside, needing to see with his own eyes that which his hearing had picked up and refusing to believe it without further proof. But there it was, the proof he hated to see. The human has Sans in a hold to their chest, his arms locked behind his back and his eyes pleading for aid as they locked onto Papyrus. Then, before he can even piece together what to do, there's a sudden snap that ripples in a haunting echo throughout the Underground. That sound is then followed by the thud as Sans's lower-half falls to the snow before dusting. His upper-half still in the human's grasp, Sans attempts to call out but is prevented from doing so as the human grips the base of his spine and proceeds to rip it out from every other bone in his body. Papyrus watches in horror as the remaining form of his brother falls apart and scatters into dust before him. To her end, the human merely gives Papyrus a creepy smile and opens her arms to him, as if welcoming him into a sick embrace while in the dust of his sibling. Tears begin to pool in Papyrus's eyes, words fail him as he is too choked with grief to make the smallest utterance of noise. He tries to summon his magic, to strike this sack of sinful flesh down for her crime, yet he is too distraught to use it. She begins to approach, that grin becoming more sinister and frightening with each step. And for all his power, the great and terrible Papyrus found himself on the victim end of the situation, unable to make his body do anything. All he can do is helplessly watch as her eyes blacken upon reaching him, her teeth turn to serrated needles while she clasps his skull in her claw-like hands and with a small giggle she lunges to bite him!

"*GASP*!"

Papyrus awakens for real this time and drenched in a cold sweat, his bones rattling with many chills. It was a dream. A nightmare. None of that happened. No one was dead...right? The events of the nightmare still fresh in his mind, Papyrus sprang from his bed and flung his door open. Looking out into the faintly lit from outside light home, his brother's door was closed and so was the front door. The flower was asleep on the table and the human was...gone? Now he was on alert. She could be anywhere and strike at any second. He had to...

[FLUSH]

Oh...That answered one question. The sound of the sink going on and off happens before she emerges with a long yawn that nearly has her bumping into him.

"*tired* Oh...My bad. I didn't see you there. Did you need to use it?"

She points to the bathroom to which he shakes his head.

"NO, HUMAN. I HAVE OTHER REASONS FOR BEING AWAKE."

"Ah. You having trouble sleeping too?"

For a second he wondered if humans were able to read minds.

"Yeah...It sucks living with random insomnia. Though it has some perks, ya get more shit done when awake, if you have stuff to do that is otherwise you're bored as fuck. But man, does the next day or two suuuuuck."

She lets out another yawn and moves around him, aiming to head downstairs but his hand grabs her by the arm before she gets too far.

"Yeah?"

In his head, flashes of the killer thing that was her take over into this real version yet he knew better. This puny thing before him is far from the remorseless bringer of death in his nightmare.

"Papyrus?"

If he wanted to, he could do it. He could kill her without batting an eye. It would be so easy. She's weak and has low HP. One blow. That's all it would take. Yet...His hand let's go and she looks through him.

"You look like you need a distraction..."

She offers him her hand.

"I have the time if you're willing to let me help?"

He contemplates this for a bit before realizing his body was already moving with her downstairs to the living room couch. She pats the seat and he sits down albeit a tad uneasy.

"Let's see...What to talk about?"

She pats her knees in thought.

"Hmmm...You want to know more about humans, right? Ask me anything. No question is off limits."

Free information? That would be helpful. The books were insightful but most of the stuff inside made his nonexistent skin crawl. Though no sane creature would willingly give away its secrets. This could be a trap by feeding him false information. Perhaps if he worded his questions in such a way...?

"I MAY HAVE A FEW QUESTIONS."

"Lay it on me, dude."

"VERY WELL..."

A dummy question first to break the ice.

"DO HUMANS HAVE A FUNNY BONE? SANS MENTIONS IT FROM TIME TO TIME. I THINK HE'S MAKING IT UP AS AN EXCUSE TO MAKE CRAPY JOKES."

She chuckles.

"As funny as a prank like that would be, he's not making it up. Though, to be fair, the 'funny bone' is not really a bone."

"IT'S NOT?"

"Nope. If I can..."

She pulls her arm out of her shirt and holds said arm out straight, her other hand begins to point at the limb.

"In human anatomy, the 'funny bone' or as it is also known as the ulnar nerve is a nerve that runs near the ulna bone. The ulnar collateral ligament of the elbow joint is in relation to the ulnar nerve. The nerve is the largest unprotected nerve in the human body, meaning unprotected by muscle or bone, so an injury is common. This nerve is directly connected to the little finger, and the adjacent half of the ring finger, innervating the palmar aspect of these fingers, including both front and back of the tips, perhaps as far back as the fingernail beds."

He watches as the free hand takes aim and comes down on a spot around the elbow. She immediately recoils the struck arm curling and gripped by the attacking hand.

"*wince* This nerve can cause an electric shock-like sensation by striking the medial epicondyle of the humerus from posteriorly, or inferiorly with the elbow flexed. The ulnar nerve is trapped between the bone and the overlying skin at this point. This is commonly referred to as bumping one's 'funny bone'. This name is thought to be a pun, based on the sound resemblance between the name of the bone of the upper arm, the 'humerus', and the word 'humorous'. Personally, I think it's named as such in irony because pain can be funny sometimes. There's actually a German word for it. Schadenfreude: the experience of pleasure, joy, or self-satisfaction that comes from learning of or witnessing the troubles, failures, or humiliation of another. This emotion is displayed more in children than adults, however, adults also experience schadenfreude, they are just better at concealing their expressions."

Her pained hand shakily flexes a few times before the movement smooths and she puts her arm back in her shirt.

"Anything else you wish to know?"

This through his thoughts off. Either she was being honest out of being tired and her soul maturing or she was calling his bluff with a real answer before telling him lies. Maybe another question will help him figure out for sure.

"INTERESTING. NOW...THESE NERVES, WHAT FUNCTION DO THEY SERVE OTHER THAN MAKING YOU FEEL PAIN?"

"Good question. How do I put this? Uh...Oh! See the TV?"

"YES."

"Well, let's say the TV is a body and the wires inside are its nerves. Nerves allow for signals to be moved around the body. The nervous system detects environmental changes that impact the body, then works in tandem with the endocrine system to respond to such events. Like what happened with my hand. The nerve told my brain that there was pain and it reacted accordingly."

"I SEE. AND IF SOMETHING WERE TO, LET'S SAY, REMOVE THE SIGNAL ABILITY?"

"Like a sedative? Blocking of the signals would cause a temporary lack of feeling. Morphine is often used to reduce feeling when in lots of pain. But that's a safe version of doing it. Lots of animals have a means of shutting down the nervous system in a far more harmful way."

"OH?"

"Oh yeah. Neurotoxins are toxins that are destructive to nerve tissue. It can really fuck you up if not treated."

Again, she gave him information that was telling of a weakness. No sane person does this down here.

"What's with that look?"

"WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME ALL THIS?"

She tilts her head.

"You asked the question, silly. Questions get answers when answers are available."

He rolls his eyes.

"I MEAN, WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THINGS THAT I CAN USE AGAINST YOU?"

"Heh...I think it's obvious why. I want you to trust me."

"A FOOLISH AND POINTLESS REASON."

"Maybe so, but that ain't gonna stop me from trying."

"WHY?"

She smiles and pats his shoulder.

"You're a smart man, Papyrus. Yet sometimes, you can be so blind."

He shoves her off the couch and she snickers.

"YOU'RE A FREAK."

"That might be. But I'd rather be a freak than your enemy."

"AS LONG AS YOU ARE HUMAN, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MY ENEMY. NOTHING YOU DO WILL CHANGE THAT."

That changed her expression, her face losing the pep it had and becoming more sullen.

"I HAVE ANOTHER QUESTION FOR YOU..."

She didn't respond.

"HUMAN? DO NOT IGNORE ME."

She gets off the floor and moves further from him. This does not make him happy.

"BITCH, WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?"

"Leave me alone."

He growls.

"EXCUSE YOU?"

He goes to her, yanking her by her hair and earning a nasty hiss from the steadily annoying woman.

"Fuck off, I'm done trying with you."

"THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN? YOU SAID YOU'D DO THIS AS LONG AS YOU HAVE THE TIME. AND THE WAY I SEE IT, YOU STILL HAVE TIME FOR ME."

She jerks her head surprisingly hard and slips out of his hold albeit now slightly dizzy.

"I did have time."

"DID?"

She rumbles a low snarl.

"I'm going to say this once...I get it. I get you don't trust humans. You have every right not to. I don't even trust humans and I am one. My kind did and does fucked up shit all the damn time. But I'm not like them. I have been trying all my life not to be like them. I'd like to believe this is noticeable especially down here. But you..."

She crosses her arms and holds them tight.

"I have not been kind when my temper flares. I try to hold it back. And I try to do good. I really do even if it's hard. But no matter what I do, no matter if I behave or not, you still see the bad human."

Her shoulders slump and slight trembles shake her form.

"So I'm done. I'm done trying to prove anything to you. There's no point trying when the result is always the same. I'm crazy but not insane. Insanity is doing the exact same fucking thing over and over again expecting shit to change. Well, I'm not doing that. Damn it, I'm not wasting my time trying when you're not willing to do the same."

Her voice was breaking, her demeanor failing to retain any of the bitch he knows her as. She looked weak like a kitten lost in a wolf den and the watery eyes weren't helping either. Truly a pathetic sight.

"LOOK AT YOU. HOW MUCH FURTHER ARE YOU WILLING TO SINK? "

"Fuck you!"

"ARE YOU GOING TO CRY, LITTLE GIRL?"

"Piss off!"

"HEH...IF I HAD KNOWN A HUMAN GOING THROUGH SOUL MATURITY WAS THIS ENTERTAINING I WOULD'VE PUT UP CAMERAS."

"Do not mock me!"

"BUT IT'S SO MUCH FUN."

"At least I'm being real and not faking some cool-guy act like you."

That caught him off-guard.

"WHAT?"

"You heard me. Even before this stupid soul shit, I was me. Even if that me is hiding personal shit that no one is ever gonna know, it was the real me. So after doing this for so long, I can tell when someone is hiding their own personal shit. And you, sir, are masking some personal shit with an overly tough act to compensate for your inability to deal with it."

His glare came down on her hard.

"ARE YOU INFURRING THAT I AM WEAK OR WEAK ENOUGH TO HAVE A FLAW IN MY FLAWLESS CHARACTER?"

"Oh my god, what is with you boneheads and your sucky way of subtlety? Be blunt when serious. Yes! I'm outright saying you have a flaw!"

That triggered him into a particularly violent fit, one that wakes the other sleeping souls that weren't awake before when they were yelling. By the time Sans leaves his room to investigate the commotion, the carpet is stained is blood splatters and Papyrus is still in the process of breaking the unconscious human's face while the flower tries to restrain the stronger skeleton in vines to very little effect.

"pap? what the hell are ya doing?"

With a pull of blue magic, the human is flung up to the ceiling and out of Papyrus's clutches.

"PUT THAT BITCH BACK DOWN! I'M NOT DONE WITH HER YET!"

Sans rubs his face and sighs.

"this, this right here...this is why we can't have nice things."

Papyrus growls loudly.

"SHE DESERVED IT! SHE CALLED ME WEAK! INSINUATING THAT I HAVE A FLAW!"

"pap, no one is perfect. not even you. you're close though."

Papyrus's eye began to twitch.

"DON'T THINK I WON'T GIVE YOU THE SAME I DID TO HER, BECAUSE I WILL!"

Sans just shakes his head.

"it's too damn early for this crap."

A curl of Sans's fingers has the human pulled into his room and Papyrus gives chase till a series of bone walls prevent him from proceeding any further in his rampage when he rips free of the flower's vines.

"SANS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! DO NOT PROTECT THAT THING!"

"go back to bed, bro."

Sans goes back into his room and Papyrus roars in furious frustration. Riled up, Papyrus aims to take this rage out on the flower but when looking at where it once was only found it to no longer be anywhere in sight. Damn thing is a sneaky weed. So with nobody in the home to take this out on and not wanting to break anything of his, Papyrus leaves the home to look for a fool out past town curfew.

Up in Sans's room, he props the human to sit up against a wall and looks for that book on human anatomy. He was going to have to play doctor to keep her from being too fucked up to speak with Toriel on their silly phone calls. And judging by her wheezing breath he might have his work cut out for him here. The book was easy to find. The hard part would be if any skeletal pictures popped up. First things first...How much HP did she lose?

[HP ██████████ 10/36]

Not bad and it explains why she's out cold. It honestly could've been worst but sleep does heal health.

"geez, kiddo. the hell did ya say to him to earn this beating?"

Just by looking at her it's easy to say her face got the worst of it, no doubt her Papyrus hit her everywhere, but the main target was definitely her face. Black eyes are bound to form and he was pretty sure her nose wasn't always pointing awkwardly to the side before. Her lips were badly busted too and opening her mouth showed damage from impact, most notably was the large chip missing from her top left lateral incisor. There's no hiding that without professional aid. Maybe he can talk his way into getting her a gold crown to fix that like when he lost his top left canine. Man, Papyrus sucked at cooking when that happened. Nothing like taking a bite and snapping a tooth on hard solid noodles that could be considered deadly weapons. How that was even possible is beyond him.

Flipping through the book to the chapter on the human face, Sans kneels down in front of her and puts the book down beside him on the pages concerning the nose.

"let's see...how to tell if a nose is broken. the symptoms of a broken nose include pain in or around your nose...yeah, i'm betting she'd be in pain if awake. a bent or crooked nose...yep to that too. a swollen nose or swelling around the nose which can cause the nose to look bent or crooked even if it's not broken...got that one too. bleeding from the nose...not much, but yes. a stuffy nose that won't drain, which can mean the nasal passages are blocked...can't tell on that one, so, maybe. bruising around the nose and eyes...another hard one to tell that ain't part of the beating. a rubbing or grating sound and/or feeling when you move the nose...?"

Slipping his middle and index finger to lightly clamp on the nose, Sans wiggles the protruding body part side to side yet is met with a faint sound though there is little movement done. At best, it's not broken but possibly the cartilage fractured enough for a small dislocation.

"okay, buddy. here's hoping you stay knocked for this part. because this is gonna hurt like a bitch."

Placing his right hand on her face so that his thumb acts as the brace that lines up with her nasal bone he uses his left hand be the forcing tool that snaps the cartilage back into alignment with a loud pop. She weakly yelps at this but ultimately remains unconscious, to that he was grateful for so he didn't have to deal with her whining in pain. He knew she had a fairly high pain tolerance but some places break even the strongest of souls. Now for some cleanup and grabbing a cold pack to keep her face from ballooning out like, well, a balloon.

"Is she going to be okay?"

Sans nearly jumped out of his shorts at the sudden voice. Flowey's sitting where the door would've hidden him when it was open.

"how the fuck...?"

"What? Did you think I'd stay down there with HIM? I'm not looking to die tonight."

Sans merely shrugs.

"yeah, can't blame ya on that one. watch her for a sec. i gotta grab a few things real quick."

Sans teleports before Flowey can speak but is back just as fast.

"well, it's safe to go downstairs."

"What makes you say that?"

"because pap's not home."

Flowey shivers at the thought of someone bumping into Papyrus while in that rage as Sans moves the human to lay down flat with her head inclined on the end of his mattress. With a moist rag, he wipes away the blood from her face before placing the ice pack over her nose and eyes.

"that outta help with swelling and shit. now...unless you have something else to bug me with, i'm going back to bed."

Flowey shakes his head.

"good."

He throws himself onto the mattress and smothers his face into it.

"*muffled* you can stay as long as you keep quiet. so zip it."

"Okay. ...Sans?"

"*muffled*...what?"

"Thanks for helping her."

Sans remained silent after that. He didn't help her because he cared or felt sorry for her, he did it because of his promise. That's what he repeated to himself in his head at least. She's a dumb human that he just happens to be stuck watching over. That's it. So what if they relate on a lot of stuff? So what if they are tied to the same people? So what if they, on a technical level because of skeletons, are the same? So what if he touched his soul to her when he needed a fantasy to get off on? None of that mattered. Not at all. So then why...Why did it feel like he was lying to himself?

[Meanwhile: somewhere in the woods]

The great and terrible Papyrus found no one to take his anger out on but there are plenty of trees to do that to. Many a strong thick trunk was splintered in twain after feeling the rage of a skeleton in need of venting. He had a spot for this, one that was oddly in his memory but he was never quite sure why or how. He just knew to always come here to get away from the world when he needed to. By the time he had calmed down about a dozen trees laid about in the snow. The feeling of exhaustion after exerting so much energy was a relief to the fire in his soul.

How dare that human insinuate that he was flawed. How dare Sans say he was only close to perfection. He IS perfect! No one comes close to his level of greatness. Every guy would love to be like him. No monster in town is as admired as him. Everyone's awed and inspired by him. No one's as slick as him. No one's as quick as him. No one's neck is as incredibly stiff as his. For there's no male in town half as manly as he! Perfect, a pure paragon! No one cook's as well as him. No one breaks hearts like him. He's much more than the sum of his parts. As a specimen, yes, he's intimidating. But that's his best quality. No one fights like him. No one uses magic like he does. And in a wrestling match, nobody bites as hard. When he hunts he sneaks up with his saber and strikes from behind. Is that fair? He doesn't care. No one hits like him. Matches wits like him. No one has brains like him. Entertains like he does. No one can make up these endless refrains like he can. He's a man among men. He's a super success.

There's one guy in town who's got all of it down and it's him. So then why...Why does it feel like a lie?

Papyrus wanders his way back home. Strangely, the trees will be restored later. He had a guess that the Gyftrot in the area did this. A creepy ass deer monster that tends to the woods. It has a habit of attacking weak or unsuspecting monsters out of revenge due to some teens having stuck damaging trash to its body such as beer bottles, a ball&chain, barbwire, etc. Some have offered it aid yet were attacked due to lack of trust. Not that anyone blames it for doing so.

Upon his return, the house is still and no one is in sight. Papyrus locks the door before going to his room, not like he'll be able to sleep much this night. Between the nightmare and his mental/emotional state after the fit, the only way he'd find rest would be if he were to bash himself unconscious like he did the human.

The human...That pathetic little fool.

She is the cause of all this. If she wasn't around he wouldn't be having these issues. If she wasn't the under the Queen's care than he'd be promoted to Captain for turning in the last soul to grant them freedom. If it wasn't for her he would have everything he's ever wanted. She needs to learn a harsh lesson for this. For interfering with his hopes and dreams, a price must be paid. All he has to do is wait for his chance to strike. And if Papyrus is anything, he is very patient when it comes to getting revenge.

[Hours pass]

Sans slowly stirred to the satisfying smell of bacon leaking into his room. A lazy yawn and bone popping stretch were his greetings to this new day. The flower remained asleep across the room and the human was gone, the melted ice-pack laid flopped on the floor. The girl was cooking that good shit. This is how days are supposed to start. Picking up the flower, Sans leaves his room and follows the tasty smell hickory smoke to the kitchen but became immediately confused when he looked inside. The human is not the one making breakfast. It's Papyrus. Not only is Papyrus cooking but he's cooking foods that he would never cook, such as the bacon and waffles. This is a red flag.

"uh...pap?"

Papyrus barely looks away from his cooking.

"GOOD, YOU'RE AWAKE. SAVES ME THE TROUBLE OF BANGING ON YOUR DOOR."

Sans put the flower down on the table.

"so...how are ya feeling?"

"FINE. WHY DO YOU ASK?"

"last night ring any bells?"

Papyrus scoffs.

"THAT WAS A MOMENT OF TEMPORARY WEAKNESS THAT SHAMES ME. I AM BETTER THAN TO LET SOMETHING SO STUPID GET TO ME. IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN."

"then you're cool now?"

"COOL? NO...I'M THE COOLEST. YOU KNOW THAT."

Red flag warning! Papyrus in a good or chummy mood never means something pleasant for anyone.

"GO FRESHEN UP, SANS. THE FOOD WILL BE READY SHORTLY."

Something isn't right.

"pap..."

"HMMM?"

"where's the human?"

Papyrus doesn't respond but a small smirk graces his skull. Major red flag alert!

"pap?"

"SHE IS FINE IF THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE CONCERNED ABOUT."

"what did you do, papyrus?"

Papyrus removes the bacon from the pan and lays the strips on multiple paper towels.

"I HAVE DONE NOTHING."

"then where is she?"

"I GAVE HER THE DAY OFF."

"pap?"

"SHE HAS IT EASY TODAY. NO ONE WILL BOTHER HER AND SHE WON'T HAVE TO LIFT A FINGER FOR ANYONE."

"pap, i swear, toriel is going to kill us both and torch the town if that kid is hurt more than what you already did last night."

Papyrus turns to his brother and looks at him sternly.

"SANS...WHEN I ENTERED THE ROYAL GUARD, I SWORE FEALTY TO THE CROWN AND THE HEADS THAT WEAR IT. EVEN IF THE QUEEN IS NO LONGER ON THE THRONE, SHE IS STILL THE QUEEN AND MARRIED TO THE KING. I WOULD END MYSELF BEFORE EVER BREAKING MY OATH. SO RELAX AND BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU THAT I HAVE DONE NO HARM TO THAT GIRL."

Sans wants to believe him. His brother is just as strict about promises as he is. But he also knows Papyrus for being deceitful. It's really a coin flip when it comes to Papyrus. Sans makes a tough call.

"fine, bro. i trust you."

"GOOD. NOW GO WASH UP. WE LEAVE AFTER EATING."

"...can you at least tell me where she is?"

"I CAN ASSURE YOU, SHE HASN'T LEFT THE HOUSE."

"and grillby? what do we tell him?"

Papyrus removes the last of the waffles from the iron.

"I WILL DEAL WITH HIM. NOW, DON'T MAKE ME TELL YOU A THIRD TIME."

Sans concedes to Papyrus and heads for the bathroom. The brothers feast before leaving for work, not bothering to plate any scraps for the flower or human wherever she might be. Not surprising, Grillby didn't trust the situation as much as Sans when Papyrus explained why the human was not with them this day. Though it's not like anyone had much of a choice in the matter considering the one person that knew where she was wasn't exactly up for giving away her location. The first chance he was given, Sans was going to take a shortcut and search the property. There aren't many places Papyrus could've hidden her. Hell, he was willing to bet gold that she was chained in the shed. But if that's the case, why not just tell him that? Why was Papyrus being all secretive about it? This made Sans very uneasy.

[Meanwhile: later in an undisclosed location]

My senses slowly return and consciousness becomes aware of the sound of ticking along with the odd taste of rubber. Sight, however, is not one of those senses that come back yet judging by rubbing on my eyes I'd say something is covering them like a blindfold. Then that means the rubber taste is from a gag of some sort. Great. Just great. If this is that thing Mettaton was planing I swear to dismantle the guy. And whatever that ticking sound is it is annoying as fuck!

[CREAKING]

The hell? I turn my head to follow the sound but can't. I try moving my arms and legs, but the result is the same. I'm restrained by what feels like leather to something wooden. The hell is going on?

[DOOR HINGE SQEALING]

This isn't funny. How the hell did this even happen? Last this I remember was trying to get a drink of water than it all went dark. The sound of boot steps tells me this captor is approaching. What sort of asshole was brave enough to break into the skeleton house and think it was clever to abduct me?

"IMPRESSIVE...I WAS EXPECTING YOU TO BE TREMBLING WITH FEAR BY NOW."

If I could blink in perplexity I would. I know this voice. The great and terrible asshole!

"*growls*"

Papyrus merely scoffs in amusement.

"CUTE. AT ANY OTHER TIME I WOULD CONSIDER YOUR DEFIANCE THE KINDLING TO A FIRE I'D ROAST YOU ON, BUT RIGHT NOW..."

He touches my neck and I flinch at the cold contact, making him chuckle.

"RIGHT NOW, YOU ARE AT MY COMPLETE AND UTTER LACK OF MERCY."

"*snarls*"

He grabs my jaw in one hand to make me look forward, or whatever I think is forward. How would I know? I'm blindfolded!

"HMMM...SO THAT'S WHERE THAT SPLINTER IN MY KNUCKLES CAME FROM."

Confused, I feel around the gag with my tongue and find a space.

"*muffled*"

"BY THAT REACTION, I TAKE IT YOU DIDN'T KNOW. DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. IF ALL GOES WELL, I MAY REWARD YOU WITH A REPLACEMENT. AFTER ALL, WE CAN'T HAVE THE QUEEN SEE SUCH A SIGHT."

He jerks my head harshly out of his grip.

"BUT ONLY IF YOU EARN IT."

Not gonna lie, the first thing my brain is thinking this is will be some freaky sex thing. But I know better than to know that's the thing. Papyrus is not that kind of dude...I hope.

"*muffled*"

"I'M GOING TO ASSUME YOU ARE QUESTIONING ME AS TO HOW YOU GOT HERE, WHERE HERE IS, AND WHAT IS GOING ON. SIMPLE REALLY. YOUR LITTLE FIT LAST NIGHT LEFT ME IN A RATHER ROTTEN MOOD. SO..."

He moves away and that ticking sound quickens.

"I WAITED TILL YOU EMERGED FROM SANS'S ROOM. AND WHEN YOUR BACK WAS TURNED, I RENDERED YOU UNCONSCIOUS WITH A QUICK HIT AND BROUGHT YOU HERE. WELCOME...TO MY TORTURE CHAMBER!"

A dramatic score plays as he laughs evilly. That's fucking adorable. He's got a sound system in here.

"YOU MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO ENJOY HOW GLORIOUS THIS ROOM IS, BUT I ASSURE YOU IF YOU COULD SEE IT YOU WOULD BE HORRIFIED."

Then what's with the blindfold?

"BUT THEN YOU'D KNOW WHERE YOU ARE AND MIGHT TRY TO MAKE SOUND. AND I CAN'T HAVE YOU ATTEMPTING TO ALERT ANYONE."

Oh...Makes sense.

"AS FOR WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO YOU HERE...NYEH HEH HEH HEH...I THINK YOU HAVE A GOOD ENOUGH IMAGINATION TO COME UP WITH A FEW INTERESTING THINGS THAT COME FROM BEING IN A TORTURE CHAMBER."

I scoff.

"OH? YOU DON'T THINK I'M SERIOUS?"

There's movement near my feet and something is making a cranking sound. Shortly after this, my wrists and ankles feel tugging. This is where it hits me. I know what I'm on. I'm on a Rack! I kick to get his attention and it works to pause the cranking.

"SOMETHING WRONG, HUMAN? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?"

I nod as best I can.

"AH. THEN YOU KNOW JUST HOW DEADLY THIS CONTRAPTION IS. YET DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHY IT IS?"

I do my best to shrug. I know why. But there are many types of Racks and I don't know them all.

"WELL THEN...ALLOW ME TO ENLIGHTEN YOU."

He's moved away again and that ticking is even faster. God, what the fuck is that?!

"A RATHER FINE PIECE OF EQUIPMENT, DON'T YOU THINK? THE RACK, A BEDLIKE OPEN FRAME SUSPENDED ABOVE THE GROUND USED FOR INTERROGATION AND TORTURE. THE VICTIM'S ANKLES AND WRISTS ARE SECURED BY ROPE OR CHAIN THAT PASSES AROUND AXLES NEAR THE HEAD AND THE FOOT OF THE RACK. THIS ONE, A MODLE OF MY OWN DESIGN, ONLY HAS ONE AND IT'S IN THE MIDDLE TO EVENLY PULL BOTH AT ONCE. FOR EXAMPLE..."

The crank is turned and I growl at the unnecessary turn.

"WITH EACH TURN, YOUR LIMBS ARE STRETCHED FARTHER AND FARTHER APART. EITHER YOUR MIND OR YOUR BODY WILL BREAK FIRST, BUT WHEN YOUR BODY DOES BREAK, IT HAPPENS IN A SERIES OF HORRIFYING STAGES. FIRST YOUR LIMBS DISLOCATE, WHICH MEANS YOUR BONES WILL POP OUT OF THEIR JOINTS. YOU'LL KNOW WHEN THIS HAPPENS BECAUSE YOU'LL HEAR A LOUD CRACK. EVERYTHING WILL STILL TECHNICALLY BE ATTACHED, BUT YOU'LL HAVE A VERY TOUGH TIME MOVING FROM THIS POINT FORWARD. BUT THIS IS MERELY THE NICE PART OF THE RACK."

I title my head in question and the feel of his hand on my arm makes me flinch.

"WHILE IT IS A COMMON PRACTICE TO DISLOCATE THE LIMBS OF SOMEONE ON THE RACK, THINGS COULD GET MUCH, MUCH WORSE FOR THOSE BEING TORTURED. TYPICALLY, RACK TORTURE IS A DRAWN OUT AFFAIR. AFTER ALL, JUST THROWING THE DEVICE INTO HIGH GEAR WOULD END THINGS PRETTY QUICKLY. WHERE'S THE FUN OF THAT? BUT IF DONE FOR LONG ENOUGH, EVENTUALLY, IT COULD GET SO BAD THAT LIMBS WOULD BE COMPLETELY TORN FROM THEIR SOCKETS. AS IN, YOUR ARM WOULD BE COMPLETELY RIPPED OFF YOUR TORSO."

He clutches my arm and digs his claw-like fingers in the flesh.

"AFTER THAT HAPPENS, ODDS ARE YOU'LL BLEED OUT PRETTY QUICKLY. LUCKY FOR YOU AT THAT POINT YOUR TORTURER KNEW YOU WEREN'T GOING TO GIVE THEM WHAT THEY WANTED AND DECIDED TO KILL YOU. TRULY KILLING WITH KINDNESS."

I shiver and he lets go, the cool feel of liquid is felt. He drew blood.

"HOWEVER...EVEN IF YOUR JOINTS WEREN'T DISLOCATED AND YOUR LIMBS WEREN'T TORN FROM THEIR SOCKETS, THERE'S A GOOD CHANCE YOU'D BE COMPLETELY CRIPPLED FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. THE REASON IS THAT PROLONGED TIME IN A RACK CAN TEAR YOUR MUSCLES AND NERVES APART. SO, EVEN IF YOU NEVER ACTUALLY LOSE YOUR LIMBS, THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU'LL BE ABLE TO USE THEM WHEN THE TORTURE IS OVER. IF I DO LET YOU GO, YOU'D STILL ESSENTIALLY BE A QUADRIPLEGIC."

The crank is turned again and the instinct of this movement has me thrash weakly. He laughs smugly.

"FOR A DEVICE THAT IS SO SIMPLE, THE RACK IS ACTUALLY A VERY PRECISE INSTRUMENT. THE WAY THE ROPES ARE SECURED AROUND YOUR HANDS AND FEET MEAN THAT THE I CAN STRETCH YOU EXACTLY AS MUCH AS I INTEND TO. THAT MEANS THAT AT ANY GIVEN POINT, YOU'RE IN THE PRECISE AMOUNT OF PAIN THAT I WANT YOU TO BE IN. WHETHER THAT PAIN IS A MERE STINGING OR THE FEELING THAT YOUR ARMS ARE ABOUT TO POP OUT. IT IS UP TO THE ONE TURNING THE GEARS. AND THAT, HUMAN, IS ME."

The gulp I make is both done out of need and fright. Between that ticking and his eerily calm tone, my brain doesn't know how to handle the limited stimuli it's getting. Things are half on and half off. Synapses popping like corn in a microwave set on nuclear. I'm panicking...I'm panicking...I am freaking out here!

"*muffled roaring*"

"HEH HEH...LOOK AT YOU. I HAVE DONE THE BARE MINIMUM IN MESSING WITH YOU AND YOU ARE ALREADY A MESS. IF THIS WAS FOR REAL, I COULD GET YOU TO DO ANYTHING I WANT..."

He clasps my head in both his hands to stop my fighting on the binds.

"AND YOU ARE POWERLESS TO STOP ME."

I can picture it. The smug powerful face he must be boasting. I hate it!

"YOU DON'T LOOK SO WELL, HUMAN. WOULD YOU LIKE THIS ALL TO STOP?"

The pleading whimper I make is humiliating.

"THEN YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT TO HEAR. WILL YOU SAY IT?"

I nod.

"GOOD. I'M GOING TO REMOVE THE GAG."

His hands slip behind my head and there's a click sound before the gag is pulled off.

"NOW THEN...SAY IT."

I'm trembling. Everything is moving to my senses. I want it to stop.

"P-Please..."

"PLEASE WHAT?"

"P-Please...make it s-stop..."

"MAKE WHAT STOP?"

I gnash my teeth.

"That fucking ticking! Make it stop! For the love all that that is decent, make the ticking stop!"

He sighs and shoves the gag back on me, re-locking it in place.

"CLOSE, HUMAN. SO CLOSE. BUT YOU STILL HAVE WILL THAT NEEDS TO BE BROKEN."

I yell into the gag and he slaps me hard.

"YOU WILL LEARN YOUR PLACE. AND IT SEEMS YOU'VE GIVEN UP YOUR BIGGEST WEAKNESS."

He moves away to wherever that ticking is coming from and increases it. This has me thrashing harder and yelling into the gag louder.

"I WILL RETURN ON MY NEXT BREAK. YOU SHOULD BE MORE COMPLIANT BY THEN. AND EVEN IF YOU'RE NOT...IT WILL STILL BE FUN."

No! Don't you fucking leave me like this! Papyrus, you coward! Get back here!

His boot steps lead away and I roar as angrily as I can before coughing in soreness. The door is closed and I thrash as hard as I can as he leaves. This is bullshit! If he thinks I'm staying here any longer with that god forsaking ticking than he's got another thing coming! I'm not sure how long I do this for. Could be seconds, minutes, or hours. Time is something I can't grasp right now. But when enough time passes and my restraints haven't given me any slack, I know my efforts are in vain. I have no choice but to surrender. I can't break free. No one can hear me. I'm going to be stuck here for who knows how long. Papyrus is going to break me. Yet I'm not sure if my mind will hold up before my will ends.

{Really? You're giving up?}

I'm sorry, but do you see my current state? Because I can't!

{But giving up? That's not like you. Since when do you let something like a little abuse from Papyrus get to you?}

Chara I am not in the mood to talk. God, what is making that fucking ticking noise?!

{Oh that? There's a metronome going nuts a few feet away.}

That clever son of a gun. He must've known that the prolonged ticking is just as bad as the Chinese water torture but less messy. The constant sound hollows out the mind in madness. Brilliant.

{You know, I've never understood that saying. Son of a gun? Guns can have sex and make babies?}

Some say that the origin is 'son of a military man' but, whether this is the correct origin or not, the phrase is no longer used to convey that meaning.

{...What?}

This strand is that the British Navy used to allow women to live on naval ships. Any child born on board who had uncertain paternity would be listed in the ship's log as 'son of a gun'. This is attestable fact as, although the Royal Navy had rules against it, they did turn a blind eye to women, wives or prostitutes, joining sailors on voyages, so this has plausibility on its side as the true origin.

{Why do you know these things?}

I get so inquisitive when bored! Argh! Can't you do something about that damn thing?

{I'm dead. What do you think I can do?}

You're a spirit! You can do shit that effects the physical world.

{No I can't.}

Dude, you are no different from Blooky.

{He's a monster ghost. His magic fuels him. I don't even have a soul, dingus. I have no fuel.}

...Did you forget the part where you use my energy to do stuff?

{...Maybe.}

Take my energy and get to poltergeist level. You can move stuff, talk with a voice, and form a body.

{...Really?}

Dude, ghost rules are weird enough that I don't have to make stuff up. Basically, you're going to drain energy from me and whatever is battery or electrically powered down here. With enough of it, you should be able to manifest in some way. A full-body apparition is like max level. But all you need is enough to break that damnable thing or better yet, undo some of these restraints.

{Huh...Will this hurt you?}

Shouldn't. I'll be super tired though. But that's nothing a nap won't fix.

{Okay. I'll try. But if something goes wrong, you snap your fingers and I'll stop.}

I give a thumbs up and wait for Chara to begin. Slowly, I start to feel colder and things, in general, are getting sluggish. I've never heard of a case of a spirit draining the energy from a person to the point of death, so I'm not worried about that. But I would like...to be able...to...think...clear...ly...

[Meanwhile: inside the skeleton household]

She had to be somewhere. There aren't many places Papyrus could've hidden her. Sans knew she had to be close. He had already checked the shed, Papyrus's room, and the spare room with the balcony. She wasn't there, or the laundry room, or even that weird space under the sink where that annoying dog sometimes hides. But nope. Not a trace of her was around that didn't look like a weed, who is also not helpful in this situation what with all its annoying questioning. Where the hell could Papyrus had put her?

*muffled roar*

That...That sounded close. But...under the floor? Seconds shortly after that a door is shut somewhere and now Sans has an idea of what is going on. He waits a couple of minutes before heading outside and catching a glimpse of Papyrus heading out of town towards their stations. Now he knew where to look. Sneaking around to the back of the house and entering the dumbest password code on the lock, Sans makes his way down into Papyrus's basement of unpleasantness. He didn't like coming down here. It was overcompensating in the intimidating department to an unnecessary degree. Not that it scared him, no. He just hated having to dance around all the stupid chains and miscellaneous metal crap that would alert Papyrus that he was ever there. But if he can make sure the human is at least alive and in one piece then a quick look couldn't hurt. All he needs to do is open the second door, turn on the lights, and he should see her in whatever thing Papyrus put her in. He just hoped it wasn't the iron maiden. So when the door is opened and the lights turn on, Sans does see her. And someone else. Someone dead.

A male human child fiddles with a restraint holding one of Lynsie's wrists till he notices the lights turn on and looks at the skeleton. The boy is pale skinned, has bright pink cheeks, piercing red eyes, as well as light brown hair, and dressed in a red sweater with a black stripe across the middle, black pants, and brown boots.

"Uh...H-Hi?"

Sans was frozen on the spot. At least, he was until the flashbacks kicked in. That face. That sweater. It triggered his memories of Frisk.

"no...no, no, no, no! not again! i ain't going through that shit again!"

The boy waves his hands defensively but that doesn't stop the images flashing in Sans's mind. In his eyes he sees Frisk. A small child with short brown hair, light yellowish skin, wearing a black sweater with two red stripes in the middle, dark brown pants, and black shoes.

"Hey now...Just relax and don't do anything crazy."

"no...no, no, no, no, no! not again! i ain't going through that shit again!"

The boy moves away from the restrained woman, a show no ill will and concern for the safety of the other person. Sans didn't interpret this in that way. In his head, he sees this as the boy getting ready to fight. The basement walls began to change in his eyes. Gone was his home and the girl. All he saw now was Frisk standing across from him in that golden hall of judgment. The boy appeared to be nervous.

"Sans...I know this looks weird, but I swear, nothing bad is happening."

His bones were rattling. Seething with pent up rage.

"it's a terrible day outside."

The boy's eyes widen.

"Sans, please! You need to snap out of it! This isn't the Judgment Hall!"

"birds are silent, flowers are dead..."

"Sans!"

"on days like these, kids like you...Should be burning in hell!"

Sans's left eye flares red and bones start coming out of the ground. But as usual, the kid avoids the attack...for now.

"Snap out of it, Sans! I'm not Frisk!"

"ah, what's the matter? are you having a bad time? because i'm having a great fucking time!"

He was lost in it now. Not even when his bones hit the chains in the room did it bring him out of this trance. Such a terrible event was burned deep into his mind and even his very soul.

"i thought i told you...if we're really friends...you won't come back! how many times do i have to kill you before you stay dead?!"

The kid was good at dodging, but everyone has limits, and the kid reached theirs faster than he expected. Bones go right through the child and it evaporates from sight, leaving him with many freaky questions as the Judgment Hall melted away to his basement once more. But first...he needs to calm down. Sweat was rolling off his skull, he was close to hyperventilating even though he had no lungs, and his hands were shaking. It takes a bit before he's able to get his magic under control again and his eye reverts to normal.

"*groan*"

Oh for fuck's sake! What now?

The reason for his being down here starts moving. Her hand slips from its restraint and messes with something behind her head before she spits out a gag.

"*tired groan* Fuuuck that feels better. My jaw was locking up. *yawn* You okay, Sans?"

She...She was conscious this whole time?

"y-yeah...yeah, i'm fine, kiddo."

"I take it you saw Chara."

He flinches.

"kinda. h-how did he...?"

"He's haunting me, remember? I let him take my energy to manifest for a bit."

Human say what?

"uh...why?"

She pops her jaw side to side to relax the stiffness the bone has.

"For one, to stop that damn metronome. And two, to let me loose."

"metronome?"

Just off to the side is the musical tool in question.

"Yeah. Papyrus had that thing melting my mind with that incessant ticking. It's was so evil!"

"yeah, that sounds like something pap would do."

"So...Am I being set free or are you checking on me for him?"

A very good question.

"i...i'm still thinking about that one."

"Oh. Well...Can you at least get this thing to slack? I, uh, rather not lose the ability to use my limbs."

"that i can do."

A simple pull of the release lever relaxes the ropes and she sighs to action.

"Thank you."

"don't thank me yet. i might have to reset this whole thing pap did."

She slaps her face and he sits on the rack by her legs.

"For real? Do you really have to?"

"he'll know i had something to do with you being free if i let you out. and i ain't about to be on his shit list."

"Aren't you the older brother? Why are you bowing down to him when he should be looking up to you?"

He punched her side at that.

"don't talk about crap you don't know. that's probably why you're down here in the first place."

"Just being honest."

"try being less honest. it'll keep you from being hurt."

"Noted, but I make no promises on that."

He snorts a small laugh. If only he could do that.

"Oh...Do I have a chipped tooth? Because it feels like I do."

"pap did a real fine job on ya last night."

"Toriel is going to lose her shit."

"not if we fix it."

"True."

"so...that trick you did with ghost boy."

"Yeah?"

"don't do that again."

She chuckles and her free hand reaches for him but can't reach.

"what are you doing?"

"Trying to grab your hand."

"heh...why?"

"Because that's what a friend does when their buddy needs to know things will be okay."

That took a moment to sink in. She was offering him support. A weird gesture down here and one that would result in ridicule. But...No one will know about this. It's not like he'd tell anyone. And it's not like she can see him either. The blindfold Papyrus used encapsulated the top of her head, she wasn't seeing diddly squat. So...why not humor her a little to soften the blow of having to leave her here? He scoots over just a little bit but is still hesitant.

"Almost there, buddy."

"don't rush me."

"What? You worried I'll give you cooties?"

"don't be lame."

"Then take my hand, bone-man. Or are you chicken?"

"what did i just say about being lame?"

"Bawk bawk bawk bagawk...Chicken."

"i'll show ya who's chicken!"

He snatches her hand tightly.

"see? i ain't no chicken."

"Heh, yeah, you sure proved me wrong."

Only now does he realize that he fell for that child's trick. He slaps himself with his free hand. Then something pulls his attention away from feeling stupid and more towards the 'what the fuck' area. Her thumb is slowly stroking the bones of his hand.

"what are you doing now?"

"I'm trying to remember the names of these bones. It's been a while since I thought about'em."

"ya really know'em?"

"Just give me a sec..."

Her hand holds his in her cupped palm and her thumb rests on the tip of his middle finger.

"Finger digits contains four bones while the thumb has three. This tip is the distal phalanx. Man, that's sharp."

He smirks.

"we skeletons might not have nails, but that don't mean we can't have claws."

She whistles impressed and a tiny blush of pride comes to him as her thumb trails down.

"Next is the middle phalanx, followed by the proximal phalanx, and then the metacarpal that leads into palm."

Her thumb makes small circles in his palm.

"Eight carpal bones. I'm probably gonna get the order wrong but..."

Her thumb goes over each bone and pauses when she speaks.

"Trapezium...Trapezoid...Capitate...Hamate...Pisiform...Triquetrum...Lunate...and the Scaphoid."

He grins.

"you were right, ya did get the order wrong. but those are the names. can you name the joint in there too?"

"Uhhh...Fuck! I know what you're talking about. It's on the tip of my tongue...God, it's got a stupidly long name."

"scaphotrapeziotrapezoidal joint."

"That's it. Man, who names this shit?"

"heh...fuck if i know."

Her hand moves to align with his, palm to palm.

"heh...what's got you so brave? you're not like this normally."

"It's easier to do things when I can't see if you're pissed off."

"*chuckles* i bet."

"I like this."

"can't say it's not nice to talk bone with someone that isn't pap."

"I guess that makes you a bone-afide expert."

"heheheheheh...and here i was thinking i was the only humerus one here."

His fingertips dig into hers and feel into the dull rounded bone beneath her skin until they slip to wind up intertwining. This caused a bit of alarm in the skeleton but not so much for her for obvious reasons. He tries to pull away, memories of a certain sinful night crawling on his back, but her grip tightens.

"h-hey! let go of me!"

"I can't."

"why not?!"

"Because you're freaking out and I have a skele-ton to tell you."

The pun helped a little bit. It made him stop trying to rip her hand off. But it didn't stop his uneasy vibe.

"then tell me already. i gotta get going before pap finds out i'm gone."

A very true thing to be concerned about.

"Okay..."

Her hand lets his go yet he could feel it tremble as it left his. It got his attention.

"lynsie?"

"Sans...Something happened the other day at Grillby's."

"was it your soul?"

She shakes her head.

"No. I got a weird phone call."

"from who? you hardly know anyone and only got two numbers in your phone."

"You've looked in my phone? What are you, my possessive boyfriend?"

That offended him in more ways than one.

"ya got five seconds and i'm out."

"Don't be that way."

"three..."

"Will you cut that out!"

"times up."

"Mettaton!"

Human said what now?

"'It was Mettaton! He traced my phone number from the other night."

This ain't good.

"what did he..."

[RING-RING]

His phone goes off.

"shit, it's pap. don't make a sound."

A simple thumbs up was her silent reply as he answered his phone.

"h-hey, boss."

"SANS, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! YOUR BREAK ENDED FIVE MINUTES AGO!"

"s-sorry, boss. i guess i lost track of time. i'm on my way."

"FOR YOUR SAKE YOU BETTER BE."

[CLICK]

Sans rubs his skull and sighs.

"you and me are gonna have a nice long chat later."

"I know."

"ugh...i need a break from all this. just one day. is that really so much to ask for?"

"No, not at all. Oh!"

"what now?"

"I just had an idea."

"about?"

"It's a surprise."

He frowns.

"i'm not a fan of surprises."

"Trust me. This is something I know you'll like."

He had a bad feeling about that. Yet now wasn't the time to question her any further. He needed to get back to his post before Papyrus destroys it...again. But first, he had to fix the things Chara had undone. She is, of course, not too happy about this. Yet, understandably, she resigns to being once more gagged and bound for time unknown while a metronome ticked away like a madman. Thankful for her, he did grant her one kindness in all this and knocked her out so her mind wouldn't be lost any more than it already is, which is entirely possible at this point what with so many blows to the head. For real, she might have brain damage, it's not healthy to take so many shots to the head and sleep through it all.

[Hours pass]

Sans follows Papyrus home, another long day spent without seeing another human and one waiting at home. So far, Papyrus didn't suspect him of anything or at least didn't come off as he did. So when Papyrus breaks away to go to the back of the house Sans isn't really sure if he should just go inside.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"uh...nothing?"

Papyrus stares at him before dismissively continuing.

"GO INSIDE, SANS."

Sans rubs his skull and does as told, heading inside to await whatever is to come.

Papyrus had a clue Sans did something. His brother's concern for the human has been a growing issue that he is less than amused by. So when he reached the back door and found the security lock was deactivated, it only cemented his suspicions. He had a feeling she was going to be walking around either down here or upstairs. He was going to make them both pay when he got a hold of them. Yet, he finds himself surprised when he turns on the lights and sees her still on the Rack. in fact, nothing seemed out of place from when he left. The metronome was still ticking, she was still gagged, the restraints were still tight, the crank was...loosened?

"*SIGH* GOD DAMN IT, SANS..."

He stops the metronome and goes to her, taking note of her lack of awareness of his presence.

"WAKE UP, MORON."

He slams his hand on the table and she jumps to life.

"DID YOU HAVE A PLEASANT ENOUGH NAP?"

She shrugs and he groans.

"YOU SLEPT THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS GONE, DIDN'T YOU?"

Her hand motions to sign 'only a little bit'.

"ANSWER ME HONESTLY AND I WILL LET YOU EAT FOR THE FIRST TIME TODAY. WAS MY BROTHER DOWN HERE?"

She is hesitant.

"I COMMEND YOUR LOYALTY. A VERY GOOD TRAIT AND IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU HAVE IT FOR MY BROTHER. BUT YOU FORGET WHO YOUR MASTER IS."

His hand grips her throat and squeezes, making her thrash at the constriction of her airway.

"NOW ANSWER ME, PET!"

His free hand slips behind her head to release the gag.

"SPEAK!"

"*choking* If you are...asking that...question...you already...know the...answer...!"

An indirect answer, but an answer regardless. He releases her throat. She coughs into normal breathing.

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE MORE OF A CHALLENGE IN BREAKING IF YOU HAVE SOMEONE HELPING YOU."

"Sorry about that...So...*cough* Better luck next time, right"

He rolls his eyes as he begins to remove the restrains.

"DO NOT PATRONIZE ME."

He growls to himself, clearly not in a fine mood since his work was ruined and by his brother no less. When the last restraint is removed and the blindfold was taken off, he heads to leave but something isn't right. There are no footsteps following him. Looking back, he sees her sit up and stretch, several joints popping out of their stiffness enough to make even him cringe.

"YOU COMING OR WHAT?"

She glares and slides off the table onto her wobbly legs.

"Forgive me, it's not like I was stuck on a table and couldn't mover for the entire day."

He groans and goes to her, picking her up like a small dog to be held under his arm.

"I am not a handbag."

"YOU'RE A BAG ALRIGHT."

She growls as he heads up out of the basement. This was new behavior and yet normal from her. Even before this soul maturity thing, she rubbed him the wrong way and fought back when he pushed her. On the other side of her coin was this somewhat okay version that didn't fight and was fine to be around. However, once they were in the home and she was able to move around, she avoids Papyrus like he's the plague. With Sans, she is all chummy and almost eager to please. Almost like how she is with the flower. At first, this was like a godsend. No nonsensical chatter his way. No looks. No nothing. It was true peace. At first. But as the night went on, her lack of attention towards him was gaining power in annoyance. All of her efforts where on Sans or the flower. But not him. Not the great and terrible Papyrus, the one most deserving of ALL the attention. Maybe he just needed to remind her of that fact.

"*snickering* come on, kid, don't leave me hanging. tell me another."

Sans sat upon the couch and was enjoying the poor humor of the human on the floor.

"Okay, okay...Here's a classic. What did the buffalo say to his son when he left for college?"

"heh...what?"

"Bison."

Sans cracks up at the bad pun and Papyrus glares. He clears his throat to gain attention.

"you okay, bro?"

"I COULD USE A DRINK."

"uh...then go get one."

"I WANT HER TO FETCH ME ONE."

The human glares.

"Get your own damn drink."

Papyrus snarls as Sans nudges her with his foot.

"be a doll and bring him something. please?"

She sighs and gets up.

"Only because you said please."

She heads to the kitchen.

"HOW DO YOU DO THAT?"

Sans looks at his brother slightly.

"do what?"

"GET HER TO LISTEN."

"it's a respect thing."

That bugged him.

"ARE YOU SAYING THAT SHE HOLDS MORE RESPECT FOR YOU AND GRILLBY THAN EVEN ME?"

"all i'm saying is there are two forms of respect. one for the person and one for the power that person has. she respects your power, pap. but you don't give her a reason to respect you personally. what with all the times you've kicked her ass for the dumbest shit."

"WHEN HAVE I EVER...?"

"bro, ya smacked her for making meatloaf for dinner."

"THAT WASN'T A DUMB REASON. I HAVE STRICT RULES ON WHAT IS ACCEPTABLE AND THAT DISH WASN'T IT. PLUS IT USED WAY TOO MUCH OF MY GROUND BEEF SUPPLY."

"do you even hear yourself right now?"

"I ALWAYS LISTEN TO MYSELF. IT'S ONE OF THE GREAT JOYS OF MY LIFE."

"you're ridiculous sometimes."

"WE SHALL SEE ABOUT THAT."

"what do you mean by that?"

"THIS FAKE RESPECT YOU SPEAK OF IS LAUGHABLE."

"oh?"

"SHE PROBABLY ONLY OBEYS YOU BECAUSE YOU FOOLISHLY SHOW CONCERN FOR HER LIKE...LIKE A FRIEND WOULD."

Papyrus gags at the thought and Sans sneers.

"i don't do that."

"PLEASE, I KNOW YOU WENT INTO THE BASEMENT TO CHECK ON HER. YOUR DENIAL IS AS TRANSPARENT AS GLASS IN A POOL OF WATER."

"*growl* she's not my friend. i ain't friends with no human. i only keep watch over her because of a damn promise i made to the queen, that's it. nothing else."

"IF YOU SAY SO."

Papyrus smirks knowing Sans said that loud enough to be heard in any room of the house. This will surely poke a hole in their little bound and he'll just sit back as the friend-ship sinks. The human returns with a glass of milk and a sour expression, a clear sign to Papyrus that she heard them. She doesn't speak. Merely holds the glass out to him while keeping a level of distance. Yet instead of taking the glass, Papyrus slaps it out of her grip.

"The fuck is your problem?!"

"CLEAN IT UP."

"Clean your own damn mess."

The tension between the pair grew to ominous levels when Papyrus stood and asserted his authority.

"CLEAN. IT. UP."

"Make me."

"WOMAN, YOU WILL SHOW ME THE SAME RESPECT THAT YOU GIVE MY BROTHER!"

"You haven't earned it."

"EARN IT? WHY THE HELL DO I HAVE TO EARN THE RESPECT OF A PATHETIC HUMAN?"

"That. That's the shit I was talking about last night. You're lumping me in with every other human on the planet and expect me to cave to your demands because why? To guilt me over the war? News flash, jackass! I wasn't part of it! That was long before the possibly any of my bloodline even was conceived. I didn't kill anyone! I don't want to kill anyone! So fuck off. I don't owe you shit. The least of all, my respect."

Her speech ended and was met with the back of his hand across her face. On past nights, such action would be met with no resistance and subsequent obedience. But this wasn't one of those nights. As soon as his hand struck her she retaliated and punched him square on the jaw, knocking him back onto his seat. This takes the room by complete surprise. Though it's no shocker when Papyrus only loses 8 HP.

"I don't want to hurt you. But like I said last night, I'm done trying with you if you're not going to make even the tiniest effort. I'm taking your crap anymore...Master."

She spat the word like poison sucked from a wound. Papyrus felt something odd at that moment. Sure, for the most part, he felt a fury the likes of which burned with the intensity of a thousand suns. But there was something else too. He wasn't sure what it was yet it was interesting none the less. Sans however...didn't take this well. Standing up and grabbing her by her shirt's collar.

"the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"He hit me first."

"i should kill you where you stand!"

"A tad melodramatic don't you think?"

"like i give a flying fuck! you hit my brother!"

"He was asking for more and got less. Be grateful I'm the merciful human."

Now the buddies were on the verge of clashing. She had crossed a forbidden line in Sans's eyes. Even if Papyrus was pressing his luck and she held herself back, she had no right to 'teach him a lesson' like that. No one lays a hand on his little brother! His eye began flickering, as it trying to tap into his magic but not getting a true connection. She merely tilts her head innocently.

"You want to hurt me, don't you?"

"damn right i do."

"Then do it."

That cut the flow of his magic off completely.

"what?"

"I said, do it. I know I overstepped and you're mad. I'd be gunning to hit someone too if Flowey got hurt. So I'm giving you the okay."

Sans isn't sure how to process this. A very weird moment this is.

"I'LL DO IT."

She just looks at Papyrus.

"You've done enough."

"IF I HAD, YOU'D BE BEHAVING BETTER."

She puts her hands on her hips.

"You are not going to make this easy, are you?"

A cocky grin smears Papyrus's skull.

"NOTHING WORTH DOING IS EVER EASY."

She sighs a groan while rubbing the bridge of her nose...and then wincing from touching the bruising.

"God dang...What happened to my nose?"

Sans raises his hand.

"he busted your face and i had to pop it back in."

Her eye twitches.

"So my face is a mess, my tooth is chipped, my nose was jacked up, and YOU...You still want my respect?!"

She points accusingly at Papyrus who merely shrugs.

"I DON'T SEE WHY YOU'RE REACTING LIKE THIS. YOU ACT LIKE THIS IS NEW."

She seethes with internal rage, her fists balled up at her sides and what looks to be vein starting to throb just by her eye.

"I...You...So mad..."

"Lynsie..."

The flower gets her attention, digging into her backpack and pulling out a strange tiny black rectangle with a cord attached.

"What playlist do I put on for when you're mad?"

She breathes heavily through her nose a few times.

"Hit the one called Cross and set it on shuffle."

Flower does as told and she goes collect the device.

"Why did you call it Cross?"

"Because if I named it Songs that make me Rage, Nanny would take it away and deem it bad for me."

Sans and Papyrus share looks of confusion that only grow when the human drops to the floor to then slither under the table with the weird device. She faces the wall and starts to put something in her ears.

"UH..."

"what are you doing?"

She faintly turns to look at them before facing the wall again.

"What's it look like? I don't have a room to brood in so this is the closest thing. Now leave me alone so I don't fucking snap on anyone."

Papyrus can't seem to wrap his head around the strange behavior. Sans isn't sure if he should laugh or cry at the realization that there's a female human of unknown powers/abilities that has issues and is now going through an emotion manipulating time as her soul matures. In short, there's a ticking time bomb in the house and it could be triggered by just about anything but more likely going to be Papyrus.

"DO WE JUST...?"

"yeah. let her be. the last thing we need is a pissy woman ready to throw down."

"NOT LIKE SHE CAN HURT US. WELL...YOU, YES. NOT SO MUCH ME."

"wow..."

"WHAT? IT'S NOT LIKE IT'S NOT TRUE. YOU HAVE WAY LESS HP THAN I DO."

Sans glares.

"know what? i'm not hungry."

Sans teleports to his room before Papyrus can say or do something. Now alone, not counting the flower and the moody human, Papyrus feels his own temper starting to rise. So with a level head, and a touch of OCD, he goes about doing housework to calm down. First, he cleans up the spilled milk. Next, he made a fresh lasagna from scratch. A time-consuming task but one that focuses his mind on something else. Allowing him to think. Think of the things said from all sides. He hated how this made him feel. Feelings make you weak down here. Yet...Damn it all if he wasn't feeling like shit over this! He knew what he said to Sans was insensitive and he'll have to make up for it in an inconspicuous way. Maybe request a day off for Sans from Undyne while Papyrus covered both shifts? Not like he couldn't do that, after all, he is the GREAT and terrible Papyrus. As for the human though...? Part of him knew she was as big of a threat as a termite trapped in a plastic bubble. And when she was in a good mood he found her willingness to treat him well to be enjoyable. Not like he'd ever admit that. She was trying with him, not an easy thing to do, and he wasn't giving her any shot. She was the one giving him inches and miles yet he burned the bridge before it even was built. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to indulge her feeble attempt at showing civility. A truce of sorts maybe? Either way, he was going to be the bigger man in this situation. No way was he going to look the fool to some dumb human bitch. But how to do it?

"Papyrus?"

After nothing but silence for nearly an hour, the human's soft voice and sudden appearance in the archway scares the living hell out of him.

"HOLY FUCKING ASGORE! DO NOT SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT!"

She looks at the floor.

"I'm sorry."

"DAMN RIGHT YOU'RE SORRY."

"No...I mean, I'm sorry for earlier."

She approaches him timidly.

"It was wrong for me to hit you. You just...*sigh* How do I say this without sound like a dweeb?"

Now's your chance Papyrus, be the bigger man and prove your superior by letting her have this.

"JUST...SAY WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY. DON'T ALTER YOUR WORDS. THEY LOSE IMPACT THAT WAY."

That at least got her to make eye contact with him.

"If that's true, then don't make a big deal out of this."

He's confused until she hugs him. This moment of awkwardness grows in the feeling a hundredfold.

"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Her grip on him tightens.

"I am an emotional wreck and going through so much internal bullshit that it ain't funny. So know that the stupid things I'm about to say are true because this is making me feel very vulnerable and uncomfortable which I think you feel too."

"UH..."

"I'm sorry I punched you. I'm sorry I'm a massive pain in the ass. I'm sorry I said I gave up on you. And I'm sorry this is so fucking weird but I lack the ability to covey this in a not dumb way. I also really needed a hug and Flowey can't do it. Sans is also unavailable so...You fit the bill."

"JUST SO YOU KNOW...I'M FEELING THE NEED TO RETALIATE HARSHLY. SO YOU BETTER HURRY UP."

"Okay...I am willing to try again. I don't know how long I'm going to be here and I'd rather we live under a roof that is not going to fall on us because of stupid fights. I...I believe in you. Someone as cool as you can do a little better even if you don't think so. So...Can you overlook the whole I'm a human thing and allow me to be seen as an equal?"

"*SCOFF* EQUAL?"

"Heh...Alright, asked too much on that one. Not equal but slightly less than that. That one work?"

He rumbles lowly in thought. Slowly he puts a hand on her head, giving it a few light pats.

"I...WILL ADMIT TO PURPOSELY ANTAGONIZING YOU JUST TO ENJOY WATCHING YOU SQUIRM. KEEP THAT IN MIND IN CASE OF FUTURE QUARRLES."

"Got it."

"HOWEVER...I AM WILLING TO BE THE BIGGER PERSON AND ACKNOWLEDGE THAT SOME OF THIS IS DUE TO MY LACK OF, WHAT'S THE WORD...SYMPATHY? EMPATHY? CAN'T REALLY TELL WHICH IS THE RIGHT ONE BUT YOU GET WHAT I MEAN, CORRECT?"

"Yeah, I understood. A high LV like yours can do that to a person. Makes it easier to hurt others without caring about the consequences. But it's not your fault. I need to remember that when dealing with you."

Papyrus found himself surprised by her.

"YOU'RE BEING RATHER MATURE ABOUT THIS. EVEN IF THIS EMBRACE IS CHILDISH."

"As I said...I'm willing to try to show you that I mean this."

He sighs.

"VERY WELL, HUMAN. IF SOMEONE AS REDICULOUS AS YOU CAN BE THIS DETERMINED TO GAIN MY CONFIDENCE...I SUPPOSE I CAN PUT IN SOME EFFORT OF MY OWN."

"Really?"

The amount of hope in her tone was two octaves higher than what would be considered endearing.

"TAKE IT DOWN A NOTCH BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND."

"My bad. But...Are we cool now?"

"HMMM...CALL ME MASTER AND WE'LL HAVE A DEAL."

She smirks.

"The more you push it, the more I'm starting to believe you have a kink for it."

He growls and pushes her away.

"YOU ENJOY PISSING ME OFF, DON'T YOU?"

"Not as much as you do for me, Master."

He smirks faintly before a beeping comes from the oven and gets his attention.

"DINNER IS READY. I TAKE IT YOU'RE HUNGRY?"

As if on cue her stomach roars.

"*chuckle* Maybe a little bit."

He removes the steaming pasta dish from its heated womb with a grin.

"MMMM...MY FINEST TO DATE."

"Shall I let Sans know?"

That killed his mood.

"Papyrus?"

"HUMAN...I WILL LET YOU BRING HIM HIS MEAL."

She tilts her head.

"You guys had a fight?"

"MORE LIKE A EXCHANGE OF WORDS THAT WENT WRONG."

"Ah. Then by your command, Master Papyrus. I shall bring thy brother his plate."

He snickers while cutting into the pasta.

"I THINK THAT'S STARTING TO GROW ON ME."

"As long as you like it, I shall continue to do so."

She goes to the fridge, collecting a bottle of mustard from the back of the fridge and shot glasses from the cupboard.

"WHAT'S THAT FOR?"

"I promised your bro a surprise to make up for all the junk I put him through. A little drink and some dumb puns outta help him feel better. I'll smooth stuff out for you too."

He pauses.

"YOU...YOU'D DO THAT FOR ME?"

She smiles sincerely.

"Pap, dude, this is no big deal. This is our own little reset. Sure, the old me was hurt by what you guys said. But new me can forgive that. You can be upset at me all you want. But I don't like you guys upset at each other."

Her words get to him and he looks at her suspiciously.

"I know that look. You think I'm up to something, don't you?"

"I WASN'T BEFORE BUT NOW I AM."

"Papyrus, please...Trust me. For once."

Her eyes widen and she pouts.

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! JUST STOP MAKING THAT FACE. IT DISTURBS ME."

"Thank you. And I swear to you, I like Sans. I'm not going to do anything to mess with him or you. Life does that enough as it is."

He plates a couple of large pieces as she puts the mustard and glasses in her pockets. The plates are then handed to her and she headed upstairs.

"Don't forget to feed Flowey."

"WHY DO YOU GIVE IT FOOD ANYWAY? IT'S A FLOWER. DOESN'T IT EAT LIGHT?"

"Photosynthesis in green plant-life only works in sunlight and special made artificial bulbs like horticultural grow lights. Putting him next to a desk lamp will do more harm than good, so kill that idea now before you suggest it."

"FINE. BUT I STILL THINK YOU'RE JUST SPOILING IT. NONE OF THE OTHER FLORA DOWN HERE HAVE A PROBLEM GROWING."

"Don't care. Those other plants aren't my bro. And he likes room temperature water too."

"DON'T PUSH IT, WOMAN!"

He hears her laugh while making a plate for himself and a small bit for the flower. Damn woman. Spoiling a plant like it's family. So stupid. Still...at least the dumb plant had good taste and liked his cooking. Only something intelligent has the ability to do that.

"fuck off!"

Sans's shout has the two downstairs looking up with intrigue.

"Dude, it's me. Open the door."

"no!"

"Don't be a baby-bones and open the door. I literally can't."

"sucks to be you!"

She groans loudly.

"I invoke the secret buddy pact. Now, let me in please."

This had Papyrus confused. Even more so when he hears his brother's door open.

"fine...but no funny stuff. i'm not in the mood."

"Understood."

The door is closed and Papyrus looks at the flower.

"WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THIS 'SECRET BUDDY' THING?"

The flower merely shrugs.

"About as much as you. They don't tell me anything that goes on between them."

Papyrus scowls. This was troubling. His brother and the human could be scheming or she could be manipulating him with falsehoods unknown. Clever bitch. How long was this going on? How does she expect him to give trust when this shit is happening? Fine, human. You may have this last moment of secrets. For tomorrow, he will personally see to it that no secret will be hidden from him for very long.

[rylredrants]

Early COVID Life (another from the vaults: 04/26/2020)

Excerpt from a personal history about 2020

March 15th was my last time in a restaurant as of April 26th. (ETA- as of November 15th, I’ve still not been to a restaurant in the US.)

The pandemic had been a conversation topic with both of the dates I’d been on the previous week. The screenings in some airports had begun in January and the first confirmed case in the US had been noted on January 21st. Back then it was still being called the “Wuhan Virus” because of its origins in the Wuhan province of China. Italy had gone on full lock-down back on February 23rd. 

The ‘national emergency’ in the US was announced on March 13th- the same day as my first “first date” with a border patrol agent. 

The panic buying, specifically toilet paper hoarding, began that week as well. My brunch date told me that he had hired someone to do some work for him that morning. He had offered $300 and the guy said he would take $250 and a pack of toilet paper. 

Basketball was the first sport to be cancelled on March 11th.. the Utah Jazz had 2 positive cases. Baseball, hockey, soccer, and the Olympic Games followed. For me, it was learning that the WWE had shut down that made it feel real. Not because I’m an avid fan these days but because they were the first to hold a major event after 9-11 when other people were still afraid to gather in crowds for fear of more attacks. 

Utah was hit with a series of earthquakes in the midst of it all with the biggest one on March 18th.Oh, and there were 2 meteors that came, in relative terms, closer to hitting the earth than any others in decades. Can we say, end of the world feeling much?

The first ‘stay at home’ order was in California on March 19th. Blue states were still scoffing at it as ‘liberal fake news’ in the wake of tweets like this from 45: 

By March 23rd several other states issued similar orders.

Here in AZ it wasn’t official until March 31st.  

On April 3rd CDC guidelines were released recommending cloth face coverings when in public in addition to the ‘social distance’ recommendation of staying 6’ or more from other people. An old friend in CA was making masks so I ordered 2 from her.

Monday, April 13th was the first trip into the grocery store since the pandemic began. My best friend picked me up at 6:45am and I gave her one of the two masks that arrived from California a couple days before. We pulled up to Walmart and saw a line of people outside waiting for the 7am opening. By this point, stores had begun limiting hours in order to properly sanitize things each night and some places started giving senior citizens an extra hour before general opening 1-2 times each week.

Our face masks were made of cotton on the inside and denim on the outside. I made the mistake of not taking my gum out of my mouth before putting mine on which only added to the difficulty breathing. On top of that, my glasses fogged up over and over again. It was awful.

The store itself didn’t seem too bad. The toilet paper aisle was about 10% stocked. The usual brands weren’t there and signs hung on empty shelves that said it was limited to one package per household. I got myself a pack of the Great Value brand, even though I had several rolls still at home. I also bought 2 two-packs of my dish gloves because they were another item that had become hard to come by. 

My basket was filled with frozen tater tots, steak fries and jalapeno poppers... junk food that I normally wouldn’t keep in the house, along with 2 packs of my favorite cookies, tuna, shampoo (2 big bottles) and deodorant even though I wasn’t out of either, command strips for hanging the 2 puzzles I’d recently completed, Kleenex because they had them in stock and had been hard to come by, mini loaf pans because I was baking banana bread before it was trendy, and instant coffee because I wanted to try the whipped coffee thing I kept seeing online.

I spent $100 and got $40 in cash that I would later turn into quarters for laundry and water bottle refills.

It has felt like Groundhog’s Day… work, dinner, couch, bed, stare at the darkness, and eventually fall asleep and do it again. 

I’ve had even more trouble than usual concentrating at work and instead find myself scrolling Facebook incessantly. Earlier this month, my department fired 3 people and transferred another out to her previous position which has made me that much more nervous about my job. Despite that, I’ve still struggled to get motivated to do the work I’ve just been assigned including a new course to create and an article talking about what my company is doing for our customers “during this time.”

I began watching the daily ‘Coronavirus Briefings’ from the White House as often as possible just because I’ve found that words really can’t capture just how awful the scene is. One day they showed a video that was all about the administration’s “terrific” response to the virus. Reporters described the video as a campaign video and when questioned about a missing chunk of time in it between the end of January when the Commander-in-Tweet said he had ‘bought time’ for the country and early March when they officially announced a national emergency 45 had his now-standard tantrum including, calling reporters “fake news” and attacking their credibility rather than giving any kind of answer.

Another day last week 45 started rambling on about possible cures including injecting UV light or disinfectants into patients. I immediately messaged the co-worker who has been posting about this kind of thing daily and told her that the next big episode would be about people injecting household disinfectants. 

Within 24 hours Lysol, Clorox and other household cleaning companies released statements telling people NOT to consume or inject their products. This is the world we live in.

Also last week, the governor of Nevada broke CNN’s Anderson Cooper with her lack of reasoning about how and why Las Vegas should re-open. There have been protests in several states as people who have been unemployed for weeks with only a single $1200 check from the government to help are demanding the economy re-open now. These protests have included masked (white) men holding guns and people with signs such as the one that read “My body, my choice” with an image of a face mask. All the while, other states have used the pandemic as a way of further restricting abortion access calling them ‘non-emergency medical procedures.’

People have applied for unemployment en masse while 2 trillion dollars in federal funds, grants, and loans “designed to help small businesses” (The CARES Act) were snatched up almost immediately. Some funds were granted to large publicly traded companies including as Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse ($20M) and Potbellies’ ($10M). They are among a handful of these companies who are returning the money only after public outcry.

I’m scared. 

Not of the virus necessarily, my county has just passed 30 cases which pales in comparison to a lot of other places, but I’m scared for how this is changing “normal” in terms of social interactions that would have typically lead to deeper bonds and eventually, hopefully, a new relationship for me.

A couple weeks ago, I loaned my sewing machine to a friend. She’s been notoriously anti-social and when I came by she invited me to hang out at a “social distance” for a bit. We ended up sitting on the concrete outside her front door about 5’ apart for about an hour just chatting. For her to feel the need for socializing is big. It’s on par with me having the urge to exercise (which hasn’t happened… yet).

I’m scared for my friend in Baltimore whose partner is a nurse in New York where the bodies have been piling up for weeks. He works for the Smithsonian and has been able to work from home for all but one day/week. Coping with the isolation for him has included turning meals into art that he posts along with the daily videos of his strongman feats and the occasional live shows with other performers who are struggling financially.

I’m scared for the New Jersey firefighter who told me about the increase in kitchen fires because people who never cooked are having to do so for the first time. He then told me about a friend that lost both her parents to COVID. She was unable to be with them in their final hours and their bodies were put into refrigerated trucks because there isn’t enough room in the morgues now. 

 If something happens to him, I’ll never know. He’s not on social media and we don’t have any friends in common who could tell me about it. He could just disappear one day. Or he could just appear. He’s talked about running away from his life for the last 5 years and I think this is really showing him that it’s time to make a change.

I’m scared for the friend in WA working 80+ hours a week between his two jobs. His health was shaky before his daughter’s murder in November 2018 and he lived in his car for months during the trial. He is finally working and has a roof over his head but is in contact with people daily who could potentially get him sick. Again. Because he was one of the people whose blood was being tested for antibodies, assuming he had already had COVID and survived.

I’m scared for my ex-husband who retired from the Army and moved to DC for his dream job right before the lock-downs started. The start date for his dream job was pushed back, and his last Army paycheck was getting closer and closer. Fortunately his resume is one that allowed him to start another job rather quickly and he just got an official start date at the dream job. But he is alone with the dogs, trying to rebuild himself and his life much in the way I am right now. 

We had friends in the area from the 3 years we lived there, but the virus means that all of the parties he wanted to go to that I wasn’t comfortable with… those parties may never return. They don’t have the grocery pick up options I have here, and his health has been an issue of concern for a long time. 

His girlfriend in the quad was a nurse who said that he had the ‘trifecta for a heart attack’ with diabetes, high blood pressure and high cholesterol. We are still legally married on paper so I have health insurance and am the primary beneficiary on his life insurance, but money can’t replace him. 

We may be separated but he is my family… and the only family I’ve really got.  And money wouldn’t make it any easier for me to have to re-arrange my life again and somehow go get the dogs if, Gods forbid, something were to happen to him.

It’s all a mess. It shouldn’t be such a big decision to go grocery shopping. 

Seeing people in movies and TV just casually touching one another and hugging shouldn’t seem so foreign already… but it is and it does. I know that we will never got back to the way it was. Masks are going to be part of my wardrobe for the foreseeable future. 

Just meeting a new person for coffee will feel riskier than unprotected sex, which makes dating a completely different experience… assuming I bite the bullet and reactivate my OkCupid account at all. And rather than calling my best friend and going out for lunch right now, I’m going to go stare at my stocked pantry with ‘nothing to eat’ and end up having leftover biscuits and gravy before putting on something resembling clothes, even if it’s just so I can take the trash out.

This is my life right now. This is the world we live in.

[nickyquinnwrites]

Aqua Mutante- Part 4

Summary: Ever since you were younger you could manipulate water. Your life changes when your secret gets out.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1.8K-ish

Warnings: Betrayal, fighting, cursing, taunting, language, angst

A/N: I know I said when the third part got 50 notes I’ll post the next part but I was really excited to post this part! This whole series was beta-ed by the very very awesome @the-witching-hours12-3. After this part there’s just one more left! If you want to be tagged let me know! Enjoy!

Your phone buzzed early in the morning, you were still sleeping so it woke you up. You groaned slightly as you picked it up and swiped the screen to unlock it. It was from Kayla which made you smile. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you! We have to hang out!”

It had been a few months since the last time you’ve seen her. Even then it only was for a few minutes. Ever since you joined the Avengers your life has been busy, between training, missions, and recovering from the formers. Sure Natasha and Wanda were your best friends on the team but it didn’t quite measure up to your friendship with Kayla.

“I’m free today. Meet up at 12?” You typed back as you got out of bed to start getting ready.

“That works. Can we meet up at the Avengers tower thing? You haven’t given me a tour yet!!” She replied quickly which wasn’t uncommon.

“Yeah, when you’re here go to the front desk and say you’re here for me.” You reply as you throw your phone on your bed to take a quick shower. After you finished up and went to the kitchen. You noted how quiet it was due to the fact everyone else was off on a mission which left you on house duty. You insisted that you wanted to go with them, but Tony reassured that they would be fine.

The clock soon struck noon and you were informed that Kayla was waiting for you, punctual as always.

“Send her up!” You inform the AI system as you crossed to the elevators. She quickly ascends and greets you with a wide smile. The both of you squeal and hug each other tightly.

“I’ve missed you so much!” Kayla says after the two of separated, “I can’t believe that I’m just seeing this huge place just now!” She exclaims and spins around to see the common room.

“I’m sorry about that, I’ve just been so busy,” you apologize and lead her to start a tour.

“Yeah, busy saving the world and all.” She grins and shoves your shoulder as you show her where everything is. “You just have to show me around!”

You did just that. You showed her the common spaces, the gym, and any place that you thought was neat.

“And this is my room,” you conclude the tour, opening up the door to your room.

“Wow, great view,” she comments as she points towards the windows which overlooked the city. You laughed slightly and walked towards them to look out of it.

“Yeah, I love waking up to this every morning,” you agree and smile contently as you look out towards the city.

In the reflection of the window you see Kayla rushing towards you. You quickly turn around and duck an oncoming punch that was aimed at your head.

“What the fuck Kayla?!” You scream as you look at her with shock.

“I’m tired of being patient!” She yells back and goes to punch you again. This time you grab her wrist and pull it to try to subdue her towards the ground. Instead of falling like you planned, she rolled forward and landed perfectly on her feet.

“Patient about what?! Have you gone bat shit crazy?!” You grunt as you try to deflect her attacks. You were defending more than working offense. This was your best friend after all, your best friend since childhood. You would never want to hurt her even if she was going crazy and attacking you.

“About taking you and making you one of us,” she spits out as she pins you to the ground, “you know; a lot of people want you for their own,” Kayla explains as she grasps your wrists harshly, you were sure it would leave bruises, “including Hydra…” she whispers with a sneer and smirks.

You widen your eyes as you try to struggle out of her grasp. “N-no…you-you can’t work for them,” you stutter as you look at the person you thought you knew in the eyes.

“Oh that’s where you are wrong kiddo,” she shakes her head and tightens her grip, “I was born into it, they raised me and trained me for this exact moment,” she explains as tears begin to form in your eyes, “they saw that you were special from the moment you were born.”

“Then why didn’t they take me then?” You ask as you try to think of ways out of this.

“Because they wanted your mutation to mature before they took action. They planted me as a spy so I can gain your trust. I was hoping to bring you in after college, but fucking S.H.I.E.L.D. got in the way. I was so patient, trying to get you to Hydra. They told me to wait until the right time, but it never seemed to come up. You were too busy doing whatever the fuck they told you to do, like the goody-two-shoes you are. But when you said that you joined the Avengers. I knew it was time to strike. Not only could I bring you in, but I can bring your lover-boy, the Winter Solider in.”

During her monologue, you concentrated on the blood coursing through her veins. The only way out was to use the one thing you promised yourself that you’d never use on another person unless it was life or death. You decided that Hydra is worse than death.

“I must say, all of those gross details about you wanting to fuck him or whatever really got my imagination going. Maybe when he tries to save you and we get him back on our side I can take him from a spin,” she chuckles deeply as she grins darkly.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You grunt as you flick your hands upwards. Before she can register what was happening, she was pinned against the wall unable to move. “How are you doing this?!” She grunted as she tried to free herself. “How are you controlling me?!”

“I’ve been training, and I’ve been training hard.” You start to explain, getting up while still concentrating. “After I was able to master my control over water, I decided to test the limits. I learned that I can control water in almost anything. Including the human body.”

You couldn’t hold her for long. Once she was free it would be game over. You slowly walked towards the door. In one swift motion, you released her, closed, and locked the door. Using the condensation from the air you used the water to freeze over the handle to slow her down and ran as fast as your feet could carry you. “You can run but you can’t hide!” You heard her scream from behind the door.

You ran down the hall looking for a place to hide, you took out your phone and ducked into the training room which had a hot tub in the back. You silently thanked Tony for putting in one after you complained about sore muscles after training.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., put the tower into lock down!” You command which was followed by various alarms in the building. You knew this notified Tony remotely that the tower was under attack. You quickly dialed Bucky’s number and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hey doll, how are you?” He asks with a bright tone. They were finished early and were going to surprise you by coming home early. In fact, they weren’t that far from the compound by the time you called.

“B-Bucky, I don’t have a lot of time,” you whisper into the phone as you find a small spot to hide in.

“What do you mean?” He asks in a low tone as he looks over to Tony who’s looking down at his tablet.

“It’s Kayla,” you say quickly and gulp slightly, “sh-she’s with Hydra. They’re after me and now you,” you explain with a shaky voice.

“Ohhhh (Y/N)!! Where are you?” Kayla sing-songs as she walks through the halls after breaking free from your room. Her voice is faint but growing ever closer.

“The tower is on lock-down; I’m going to fight back the best I can,” you explain as you try to collect yourself.

“We’ll be there soon. Stay on the phone so I know you’re safe,” Bucky instructs as Tony informs the rest of the team the situation that’s going on.

“I can’t Bucky, I need to fight. I-I lo-“ you begin to say but are cut off as your phone frizzed out.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)?!” Bucky says frantically into the phone but it was no use.

“We’ll be there in 20 minutes,” Tony says as he goes up to the cockpit to make the aircraft go faster.

“She’ll be fine.” Steve says as he tries to calm down his friend which didn’t work.

“Remember when we used to play hide-and-sneak when we were younger? How I would always win?” Kayla cackles as she throws a punch towards the wall you were leaning against. You ducked out of the way and jumped into the hot tub.

As you stood up, you raised spears of ice to pierce her. Expertly she dodged them as if they were nothing. “You forget I’ve trained for this my whole life, you dumb bitch!” She spits out.

“Who’s the one with powers here?” You retort as you take more water but instead of making them spears of ice, you make a helmet of it over her head which makes her gasp for air. This gives you enough time to get out of the hot tub and stop her. You didn’t want to drown her, merely render her unconscious.

As she was trying to hang onto any kind of air, she looked at you with pleading eyes. All of a sudden, flash backs of your childhood flooded your head. You remembered all of the best memories you had. They were with her. You went through everything together. You began to tear up as you stepped back. Your hands faltered and the water fell to the ground. She coughed up water and leaned against the wall.

Coughing soon turned into insane laughter. “You’ve always been a weak mother fucker,” she mutters as she looks up towards you.

“I can’t fight her; I can’t hurt her!” You think to yourself as you begin running again.

“Quinjet will arrive shortly (Y/N),” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said as you ran through the halls.

“Landing pad!” You mutter to yourself as you start running in that direction.

You see sunlight seeping through the glass doors as you see the jet landing. A wave of relief washed over you knowing you would have back up soon. As soon as you reach the stairs to go to the landing, you feel electricity shock through you which was intensified from the water that was soaking you.

Everything began to go black as you fell, Kayla towering over you with a taser. The last words you heard were, “hail hydra…” before the world around you was shut off.

Tagging: @amrita31199 @caplanbuckybarnes @tol-sam @lady-thor-foster @nikkitia7 @mirkwood---princess @rebelslicious @james-bionic-barnes @hopelessgarbage @abbeybirchfield-blog @addictionmarvel

[lokiarsene]

In honor of 624 followers on 6/24, which is also my dang birthday, have some impromptu Akeshu fic inspired by an Oscar Wilde quote.

Rating: G Summary: Akira invites Akechi inside during a thunderstorm, with angsty results.

Also on AO3, if you’d prefer that layout.

The rain came on sudden and swift. At first the sky was a neat swatch of gray, a uniformly drab color collected together and tightly pressed around the edges, keeping out any trace of the sun. But as the evening approached, a sudden storm began in an eye's blink, catching Akechi off guard. Poor timing, too, as Leblanc had just closed up for the night. Now where would he go?

Akechi stepped back towards Leblanc's front door, unable to hide both his disappointment and bitter amusement. He heard himself laugh before a rumble of thunder, as long and low as a beast stirring from sleep, drowned it out.

"Of all the days to hope for good weather," he said, tilting his head back to stare at the sky.

The rain was heavy, almost vicious. Every drop slammed into the narrow street like a fresh, deep wound wept. Akechi extended his hand and watched as the rain slid over his glove. It trickled through the folds of his palm before curving around the edge, where it hung suspended, dangling on the back in a long oval, like a tear. He was distantly aware of another sound the fresh rumble of thunder, something softer and crisp--the bell to Leblanc's door--before a voice broke through his thoughts.

"Were you going to stand out here getting soaked, or were you coming back inside?"

Akira Kurusu's voice was steady, his delivery almost nonchalant, but Akechi could hear the warmth buried in the words. He turned to face the other boy, preparing himself to look that warmth in the face.

His heart did a strange, awkward lurch once he locked eyes with Akira again. Akira's expression was open, honest. His eyes, as always, were framed behind those comically large glasses that Akechi was dead sure he didn't actually need. Through this quiet scrutiny, he peered at Akechi with a patient honesty. Those glasses never seemed to hide a thing--if anything, they magnified Akira's expression, acting like a private window into which a stranger might see the boy's heart.

It must be exhausting, Akechi thought, and not for the first time, to be so open. It must be nice to know you could risk it.

Akechi pointed at the sign on Leblanc's door. It still said OPEN, though he knew otherwise. "You do realize I'm a patron, and that it's after hours," he said.

"Don't be silly," Akira said, and the words cut into Akechi like a piece of glass slides under the skin: sharp, fast, and stubbornly painful, intent to hurt despite its small size.

Akechi chewed on the inside of his cheek and felt himself force a smile. "I thought I was being polite."

"So was I. Or did I. Whatever." Akira pulled the door open wider and turned, waving his free hand back towards the cafe and all the warm light spilling out from inside. "I'm inviting you in as a friend, Goro."

Akechi stared. "A friend," he heard himself echo. Friend. What a novel idea. And it was just like Akira to say it so quickly, with such neat, naked sincerity, as if it were a simple fact of the world. And to use his first name to boot. He must really mean it.

Friend. Akechi's mind puzzled over the word like he was weighing it, testing out the feel and the shape, and the strangely heavy way it hung in his heart. Something shifted in his chest as he repeated Akira's words to himself once more. As a friend.

Is that what they could be?

"Thank you," Akechi heard himself say, grateful that some part of him could still perform as a functioning human being despite being knocked so far for a loop. He walked inside the cafe, his chest still carrying that strange weight that wouldn't stay still.

"That's what friends are for," Akira said, pushing the door shut with one hand. He flipped the sign over with a careless, casual flick of his long fingers, and then turned to face Akechi, his hands sliding into his pockets.

"I'll only stay until the rain stops," Akechi said. These words were a line in the sand, a line clearly drawn, outlining the distance he was so careful to create between himself and Akira. A distance he constantly tested with each visit to the cafe, and each "accidental" encounter in the subway before school.

But no matter how he chided himself for the risks, Akechi couldn’t help testing the limits he had set for himself. Reaching out to Akira, going out of his way to even see him, was like a cut in the mouth that would heal if only you could stop tonguing it: Akechi just couldn’t resist the swift stab and the resulting ache.

"Stay as long as you'd like," Akira said, shrugging. He looked so composed, with that ever-present, enviable graceless ease.

"Well I don't want to be stuck here overnight," Akechi scoffed. His laughter was uneven. The sound of it stumbled out of his throat, unsteady and clearly nervous.

Akira waited for Akechi to compose himself before he asked, "Would that really be so bad?"

Akechi flexed his left hand, testing the limits of his glove. Would it be? No, probably not. Should he stay? No, definitely not.

Would he stay, if asked?

Yes, absolutely.

"No," he heard himself say. "I don't suppose it would be."

Akira nodded, as if that little movement settled the matter. He moved past Akechi, walking behind the counter. Akechi waited, still unsure, before he settled back into his usual stool and watched Akira go about the paces of closing up the shop.

Akira’s movements were mechanical, but even they had a sort of grace to them. And his long, thin hands moved like a magician’s in a trick, with an appeal that was equal parts about deception and a subtle challenge.

Or perhaps Akechi was thinking too much about the other boy’s hands, and should get a grip on himself--no pun intended.

Oblivious to Akechi’s close scrutiny, Akira wiped down the counter with a damp cloth until the wood was polished bright and gleaming. He carried half-empty cups and stained saucers to the sink in the back, delicately adding them to the already existing pile of porcelain. Once this was complete, Akira picked up a broom from its position against the wall from which the TV set hung, and he began to sweep the floor in slow, steady strokes.

There was something comforting about this moment, something cozy and warm, so much so that it made Akechi's chest crack with a fresh ache.

"You know," Akira began after a few minutes of comfortable silence, "from one friend to another, I have some advice I wanna share with you." He peered at Akechi, his eyebrows slightly lifted, his expression framing a question he wouldn't ask.

Akechi thought he knew what this question was. Do you want to hear it? "Go ahead," Akechi said, waving his hand. "Tell me."

"Stop thinking so much. It'll just tear you apart."

Akechi laughed. "Since when is it a bad thing to think?" he asked.

"It's not," Akira said, frowning a little. "I mean, it's usually not. But with you it's a different story."

"Why just with me?"

"Because you go overboard with it. Not even the best of habits stay useful if you do them too much."

"'Every thing in moderation, including moderation'?" Akechi asked, smiling. The expression slipped onto his face with an ease that made his chest feel strange again. It happened so quick as to be almost on instinct, like it was so natural to sit here and make small talk with another boy.

But no, not just any other boy--this boy in particular. This strange, graceless, honest boy who wore his heart on his sleeve and seemed to collect the secrets of strangers with an open mind and a listening, patient ear. It must be nice to be so brave.

Akechi didn't expect Akira to recognize the quote--not everyone read Oscar Wilde today, not even back when the man was still alive--but to his delight, the other boy surprised him.

"Exactly. Wilde had the right of it more than once, I think. And words like that stick around because there's truth to them--truth and humor." Akira leaned on the broom and raised his eyebrows again, his mouth sliding up into a crooked, half-smile. "Because why bother with honesty if you can't dress it up in a joke?"

"Thank you," Akechi said, still wearing that warm, open smile. "For the advice--and the concern. It's kind of you to care."

"'I have nothing to declare except for my genius,'" Akira said, his voice a flat, steady deadpan. It was another Wilde quote.

Akechi laughed again. The sound broke through the cafe, competing with a fresh rumble of thunder from outside. Even Akira had to smile at Akechi's amusement, clearly resisting the urge to laugh at his own joke.

"Let's not go overboard," Akechi said.

"See, you're getting the hang of this moderation stuff already," Akira said, smiling with pride. "And friendship. Can't forget that."

"How do you figure?"

"'Because a good friend will always stab you in the front,'" Akira said, quoting Wilde once again.

Akechi tried to laugh. He knew he should, knew that he must, but the sound died somewhere en route from his brain to his throat. All he could do was smile, wooden and stilted, as his heart gave another painful lurch in his chest.

"I hope you'll understand me when I say that I'll try to disappoint you," he said, looking at his gloved hands pressed flat on the counter top.

Akira frowned. "That's not another one of Wilde's, is it?" he asked.

Akechi shook his head slowly from side to side, his neck tight, muscles unyielding. "No," he said, his voice soft. His words all but tumbled back into his chest and the pain that thrummed inside with every heartbeat. "No, that one is all mine."

[stickylizardcave]

Imposter

Ao3 Mirror

Part 2 of “Faces”, a series of stories about Vampire!Flug

Warnings for Violence, Blood, Light Angst

“Demencia catches Flug trying to sneak out while Black Hat is away.”

Demencia pouted as the door clicked shut, Black Hat leaving for some meeting or business deal. (She hadn't bothered paying attention to what it was, only that he was leaving for a few hours.) The house fell quiet, a rare occurrence, and she stood there looking at the dark wood for another few moments.

“Bored now,” she suddenly announced to the empty hall, spinning on her heel and starting down the hallway. Now then, what could she do?

...Well there was always the obvious.

A toothy grin pulled across her face as she made for the Lab, hopping up onto the wall as she got close. The sounds of Flug working was unmistakable and created the perfect cover for her to slip by the partially open door, skittering up to the ceiling. Which was strange actually. Flug usually had the door shut and locked to keep her out. (Not that it stopped her at all.)

Mismatched eyes took in the scientist’s upside down form, hunched over one of the many tables. She scuttled over until he was right before her, still oblivious to her presence. He seemed totally engrossed in soldering pieces onto the small circuit board he had. He wouldn’t be expecting her at all.

Perfect.

Demencia waited until he was just about to put another piece of metal in place before dropping, flipping to land on her feet with cat-like grace. She hit the metal floor with a loud crash, “FLUG!”

He actually squealed, flinching so badly the welding torch went flying out of his hand, getting caught by the end of its hose and clattering to the floor. He went scrambling after it, fumbling to turn off the flame.

“D-Demencia-! You can’t-you have to stop doing that!”

It sounded like he was trying to be forceful, but the way his voice trembled from the surprise ruined it. She shrugged and stuck her tongue out at him. “I don’t see why I should. I mean, it still gets you everytime!”

Flug made a strangled sound of frustration, jerkily placing the torch back on the table, inspecting the circuit to see if anything had broken. “I don’t want you to-You could get hurt. I’ve t-told you, I’m not playing with t-toys. Some of what I make is dangerous, even-even for you.”

“And what, it’s not for you?”

“T-That’s not the point!”

The reptilian hybrid blew a raspberry at him.

“Soooo, what are you making anyway?”

He swatted at her hand when she reached to pick up the board, sliding it out of her reach. “Nothing for you t-to mess with. I don’t need you breaking anything else!”

The girl tilted her head, pouting, “When I have I broken anything?” The glare she got had her amending, “I mean, recently.”

Flug’s stare intensified, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Demencia grinned.

After a moment, his shoulders slumped, defeated, and he turned away. “I just don’t need-I don’t want anything else to go wrong right now.”

The tone of his voice made her pause. He sounded anxious, though that was nothing unusual. But instead of a general tired, there was an undertone of sheer exhaustion. Demencia pursed her lips, giving the scientist a once-over. All of his clothes, even the paper bag was deeply wrinkled, like he hadn’t changed in a week. He might have possibly even slept in them several times.

She knew he was prone to being a workaholic, but he at least kept up with some semblance of taking care of himself. Come to think of it, had she seen him out of the lab in the past few days? She didn’t think so.

Her lips pursed before she did a dramatic turn on her toes, sighing in exasperation. “Ugh, fiiiiine. I’ll go find 5.0.5 instead. He’s more fun than you anyway.”

The noise of relief she got was more than enough for her smile to soften. Demencia skipped back to the lab door, kicking it open and moving to push it shut.

She gave one last glance inside...and stopped.

The hybrid had assumed Flug would have gone straight back to work. Instead he had silently sunk to his knees, clutching at his arms, head resting on the edge of the table. She opened her mouth to call out, but his voice caught her first, barely there even to her advanced hearing.

“...please...not now not now...too close...j-just finish-just finish this part and...ah...it hurts…” He let out a soft whimper, before clumsily getting to his feet again, whole body seeming to tremble with the effort. He reached for the welding torch with one shaking hand and started working again.

Demencia frowned.

That was...odd. Even as dedicated as he was, Flug generally didn’t push his limits. (Black Hat didn’t either, for that matter. He could be callous and demanding, but at least he understood that production was higher when Flug wasn’t entirely strung out.)

But whatever. If he was going to push himself like that, it was his problem. She turned and walked away.

The next few hours were dreadfully uneventful. She had found and bothered 5.0.5 several times, doing such things that included, but was not limited to: getting soapsuds from the dishes everywhere, tilting pictures in an entire hallway and laughing as the bear frantically tried to reach the highest ones, startling him no less than 5 times, and actually having a nice time sitting down and drawing with him. (She was getting better! Her people sort of resembled people now.)

She had also hooked up her guitar to the biggest speakers they had and played until things on the upper floors had started rattling. (She stopped when she heard crashing and 5.0.5’s wails of despair.)

But now, Demencia was bored again. And since it had been hours, it was high-time she messed with Flug again. It was entirely possible he was still working from before, but he could have just as easily have gone to get a snack or fallen asleep. (She grinned widely at that last thought, starting to formulate all the ways she could mess with him.)

The hybrid didn’t get the chance however, turning a corner and catching the scientist’s back as he strode down the hall. Weird, he normally wasn’t in this part of the house, unless he was sent out on an errand or something. And, unless she had suddenly gone deaf, he really wasn’t making much noise.

Demencia wrinkled her nose before scaling up the wall and following.

Flug stiffened and turned, glancing over his shoulder but upon not seeing anything, hurried on. Turning into another hall, he stopped and leaned on a wall, letting out a soft and pained breath. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to his surroundings.

Perfect.

She dropped to the floor, like she had earlier, though with much less of a crash this time. “FLUG!”

He didn’t scream this time. He actually didn’t do much of anything except freeze in place. She grinned and skipped over, “Where you going, Flugbug~? You trying to sneak out?”

The doctor seemed to jump then. She gasped, hands coming up to her face in glee. “You are! You totally are! Oooh, you naughty boy!!”

“Demen...cia…”

She almost didn’t catch his voice. It was so quiet and strained, like he was in pain and trying to hide it. Her smile slipped a little, “Whaaaat?”

“ ...go away… ”

A snort, “As if! You’re trying to sneak out! You have somewhere to be, huh?” She stepped in front of him as he pushed off the wall, blocking his way. “Oooh, are you going to a secret meeting? Does Black Hat know~?”

Flug suddenly moved, and Demencia found herself stumbling to the side a few steps. She blinked before realizing that the scientist had just shoved her. “Hey! What was that for!?”

He didn’t answer, instead trying to lurch past with a rather unsteady gait. The hybrid grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around to face her, “What’s up with you? You were acting weird earlier and now you’re trying to leave the house?”

The low growl she received didn’t register at first, and had her turning to see when 5.0.5 had showed up. In the next moment, she was smacking into the wall, her cheek stinging, blood on her tongue. Dazedly, the hybrid lifted a hand to her cheek, mismatched eyes lifting to the other, taking in his still outstretched arm.

“...Did you…just...?”

Flug recoiled, clutching his hand to his chest, “I-I! I didn’t-”

She just stared at him, unable to comprehend that the scientist had just punched her. Hard enough to send her into a wall even.

Demencia bared her teeth, launching herself at the other. Her fingers caught his shoulders again, and he hit the wall behind him. “What was that for!?” she cried out, indignant. “All I asked was what you were doing!”

He didn’t answer, and she could feel his body shiver.

The next few moments were a blur. There was a snarl, her vision suddenly obscured by a gloved hand as she was thrown to the floor. Pain jolted up her spine from the awkward way she landed, a pained gasp escaping her. There was the muffled crinkling of paper and a hand slamming down on her chest, making the breath catch in her throat.

Demencia vision swam, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she tried to look up at the form above her. The only things she could make out was a mess of brown and the flash of white teeth.

Pain bloomed from the side of her neck.

She screamed. Fingers scrabbled at the arm holding her down, her nails trying to find purchase in white fabric. One leg found a body and she kicked with all of her might, the form suddenly disappearing. There was a loud crash, like someone flinging open a door a little too hard.

The hybrid clutched at her throbbing neck, struggling into a sitting position before pulling her hand away. It was covered in blood. Footsteps caused her to look up with a small whimper. A small part of her mind was trying to deny that the figure above her was Flug, the fading voice insisting that the scientist couldn’t do this, that this was some imposter in his clothes.

A single eye stared down at her, opened wide, pupil slitted and burning yellow. The rest of his face was shadowed, but there was blood on his shirt.

The throbbing in her neck was started to dull, and she found that it was getting harder to breathe, to move. Her heart seemed to beat in her mouth, terror and adrenaline making her pulse race.

Flug reached down and hauled her up by her arm, his grip like iron. Pain bloomed again and Demencia struggled weakly, limbs feeling like deadweight. It felt like time had slowed down. All she could feel was hot breath on her skin, blood dripping down her chest. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move-

She was flying again, hitting the ground and feeling something, somewhere in her body crack. Sounds of animal snarling and things being slammed around reached her as if from far away.

Her eyes opened, vision blurred but just able to make out a huge, furred shape. A pained screech. A roar.

A bloodied blue paw suddenly obscuring her view. More snarling from somewhere above. Flug’s voice, distant and terrified.

“Dem...cia…? Oh god. I...I didn’t mean to-”

Red sneakers appearing momentarily only to stumble back at another snarl. The blurred image of a man’s face, wide gold eyes finding her own, anguished.

“I’m sorry-!”

Fading footsteps.

Soft fur on her cheek.

A low whine.

     Darkness.

[jennycalendar]

First Steps

THE OFFICIAL NEXT INSTALLMENT IN THE BRAVERYVERSE & now i gotta start working on the faith au heckkkkk this is going to be...a long & gorgeous few months

anyway. basically buffy’s back and people deal. think “dead man’s party” but with more jennyness.

(it’s also on ao3)

So far, the running list of Things That Had Changed Since Buffy Got Back included the fact that Willow and Xander were fighting vampires with water balloons, which was possibly one of the stupidest things Buffy had ever heard. But when she tried to make a joke out of it, Willow got this hard, hurt look in her eyes, and Xander said with only half a laugh in his voice that if she’d been around, they could do hand-to-hand combat and all that, but they hadn’t had a Slayer for backup anymore, and the subject was very abruptly dropped after that.

“How’s Giles?” Buffy asked somewhat nervously. “I—when Ms. Calendar, um, talked to me in the diner, she said—”

“He came back,” replied Willow simply. “He and Ms. Calendar got back together. It’s—they’re working things out.”

“Oh,” said Buffy, and felt herself smile a little. “That’s good.”

“Kind of,” said Cordelia, wrinkling her nose. “Ms. Calendar’s still really touchy about Giles fussing over her, and sometimes he fusses over her just a little and you can tell she just wants to—” She mimed punching someone in the face. “And then they talk things out in his office all the time.”

“Which is basically just code for making out,” Xander commented. “That and conflict resolution.”

“Okay, you guys don’t know that,” Willow objected.

“Why not?” Xander inquired. “Snyder’s been really cracking down on everyone for PDA, so maybe they’re just using code names now. Once Cordelia and I were just walking near each other and he gave us a five-minute lecture on setting an example for the other students.”

“So, Snyder’s still an evil little insect?” Buffy inquired playfully.

“When has he ever been anything else?” Xander said, grinning.

The tiny window near Giles’s front door was lit up, and Buffy could hear faint strains of music from the apartment. She felt a sudden clench in her throat, because she couldn’t remember ever coming to Giles’s place and having it seem so warm and inviting; usually it just felt like an extension of Giles’s office. So much had changed over the summer. Everyone seemed able to hold their own without her. “You know—maybe it’s too late,” she said lamely as they reached the front door. “Maybe we should just come back tomorrow.”

“They’re expecting us anyway,” said Willow with a nervous smile. “We always check in after patrol.”

“What if they’re mad?” Buffy inquired, unable to keep the anxiety out of her voice.

“Mad?” Xander repeated.

“Ms. Calendar won’t be mad,” said Willow with conviction. Then, a little worriedly, “I think.”

Buffy exhaled, eyes locked on the door knocker. It took her a moment to find the courage to lift her hand and rap twice on Giles’s front door.

“Shit,” Jenny laughed, running a hand through Giles’s hair.

“Shirt,” Giles corrected her teasingly, fingers skimming Jenny’s bare stomach.

“They never get back this early,” Jenny complained, climbing off of Giles and picking her blouse up off the floor. “We usually have a good two hours more at least.”

“Yes, well, a Watcher’s work is never done,” Giles replied ruefully.

“You know they’re here to see me, right?” Jenny reminded him as she rebuttoned her blouse, her light tone suddenly not quite as genuine.

“Of course. I was talking about both of us,” said Giles quite seriously, frowning slightly; he was unsure why Jenny seemed bothered. “Regardless of whether you’ve been trained by the Council, you’ve most certainly been doing more than the work of a watcher this sum—mph!” Jenny had wound her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hard kiss. He kissed her back for a few moments before reluctantly disentangling himself to remind her, “Darling, the children are waiting.”

Jenny was smiling somewhat dazedly. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, um—you think I’m as qualified as a Watcher?”

“I—it’s more of a title than a position, really, a-and commonly it’s given to the one training the Slayer—” Giles floundered, then suddenly understood. He felt a strange, warm rush of joy looking at her, because for the first time in his entire life, he didn’t feel isolated by his calling. “Yes,” he said simply.

Jenny smiled, delightedly incredulous, and Giles was leaning in to kiss her again when Xander yelled, “ARE YOU HAVING SEX IN THERE OR SHOULD WE BREAK DOWN THE DOOR?”

“Xander!” came Willow’s mortified shriek.

“Duty calls,” said Jenny reluctantly, pulling slowly away from Giles and standing up.

“Your buttons are done wrong,” Giles observed as they walked to the door together.

“Shh,” said Jenny, and elbowed him. “It’s a fashion statement.”

“Is it?” said Giles, honestly bemused. Jenny gave him a pointed look and it clicked. “Right!” he said. “Fashion statement. Of course. You look lovely.”

“Hopeless,” said Jenny affectionately, opening the door.

Giles froze.

In front of him, so did Buffy.

“Check it out,” said Xander, who as always seemed to feel the need to break the quiet. “The Watcher’s back on the clock. And just when you were thinking—” Jenny fixed him with a look. “Got it,” he said awkwardly, and directed his gaze at his feet.

Giles tried to find the right words to say. Buffy looked so much smaller than he remembered, or perhaps that was because of the hesitancy in her eyes. She was waiting for his move—his acceptance, or his anger. He knew what he wanted to say (I love you, I was so worried, I’m so happy you’re here) but he knew that it wasn’t a Watcher’s job to say those words. That was a parent, and Giles couldn’t be that for Buffy.

Or—he felt Jenny’s hand in his, thumb lightly stroking the side of his index finger. He’d been wrong about things before; this summer stood as a testament to that. But perhaps now wasn’t the time to consider the changes and plans he might have to make.

“Welcome home, Buffy,” he said, soft and simple, and from Buffy’s slow smile he knew it was enough.

“I got in a few hours ago,” Buffy was saying, “but I went to see my mom first.”

Giles glanced briefly over at the kitchen where Jenny was making tea. She’d gotten her cast off two days ago, and had been quite visibly excited at the prospect of being able to make tea for the Scoobies now. “Yes, yes, of course,” he agreed. Thinking back on Joyce’s angry accusations directed at him a few days prior, “How did you find her?”

“Well, I pretty much remembered the address,” Buffy quipped lightly.

Giles smiled fleetingly before correcting himself, “I mean, er, how are things between you?” The whistle of the kettle sounded through the apartment, and he added, “Ah. Excuse me, I’ll—”

“Sure,” said Buffy easily, smiling at him. Giles almost didn’t want to look away, half afraid that she’d be gone when he did, but he managed to exit the room and come into the kitchen with little trouble.

Jenny smiled easily up at him from where she was turning off the stove. She’d tied her hair up in a disheveled bun so as to keep it out of her face. “I’m heating up pizza bagels,” she informed him brightly. “I bought some a few days ago for the kids. Xander really loves them.”

“Yes, well—” Giles began, and then stopped. Buffy’s quiet laugh was audible from the living room, followed by her playfully inquiring tone of voice. He couldn’t quite make out the words, and he suspected it had something to do with the fact that there was a sudden tightness in his throat. He exhaled softly.

Jenny turned away from the stove and he felt her hand on his cheek, tilting his face towards hers. He blinked, trying not to look at her, because he knew that if he did he might lose whatever limited hold he had on his emotions. He could hear Buffy in the living room, laughing and safe and alive. He was going to give her tea and know where she was sleeping at night.

“She’s okay,” said Jenny quietly. “It’s okay, Rupert.”

Giles closed his eyes, pressed his lips together, nodded half to himself. “I know,” he said shakily, and kissed Jenny’s half-crooked fingers before pulling her all the way into his arms. “Thank you.”

Jenny rested her chin on his shoulder just as the microwave timer went off. “Pizza bagels,” she said a little reluctantly, stepping away from him slowly. “Can you bring the tea out for the kids?”

“Of course,” Giles agreed, and smiled at her. Jenny gave him a sweet, lopsided little smile back before heading over to the microwave. He studied her for a few seconds before finally remembering to pick up the kettle and pour out some tea for the children, making sure to wait until Jenny had added the pizza bagels to the tea platter before leaving the kitchen. “Though you should know that it’s highly untraditional to have pizza bagels on a tea tray,” he informed her as they entered the front room.

Jenny rolled her eyes and snagged a pizza bagel from the plate.

“Here we are, then,” said Giles to the Scoobies, setting down the platter on the coffee table. “Cheer us up.” He sat down in the easy chair. Jenny looked around, seemed to realize that all the seats were taken, and very carefully settled herself on Giles’s lap.

“Joined at the hip much?” commented Cordelia.

“You know, I heard what you and Xander did on patrol,” said Jenny mildly, taking a delicate bite of her pizza bagel before settling her head against Giles’s shoulder.

Cordelia turned a little pink, cleared her throat, and hastily turned to Buffy. “So!” she said, voice somewhat high. “Were you, like, living in a box, or what?”

“Well, it's a long story,” said Buffy somewhat awkwardly.

“So skip the heartwarming stuff about kindly old people and saving the farm and get right to the dirt,” suggested Xander.

“Perhaps Buffy could use a little time to adjust before we grill her on her summer activities,” Giles commented, doing his best to pour out some tea without jostling Jenny.

“What he said,” Buffy agreed immediately.

“Fair enough,” Xander replied. “In fact, you can leave the slaying to us while you settle in.  We got you covered.”

“I mean, if you’re sure,” said Buffy, sounding somewhat doubtful. “That whole water balloon thing you had going looked a little sketchy.”

“Ooh, tonight was a water balloon night?” said Jenny with interest. “It work out?”

“Nah, I think the guns are a little more straightforward,” Oz replied. “We kinda soaked some non-vampire girl leaving the Bronze and then we were all out of ammo.”

“We’d have been fine if someone hadn’t thrown first and asked questions later,” said Cordelia archly, giving Xander a pointed look.

“We still always get our vamps, though!” Willow added, smiling placatingly at Cordelia. “With only a few minor hiccups.”

“Well, thank you for the offer,” Buffy replied with a small smile, “but I think I just wanna get back to my normal routine.  You know, school, slaying…kid stuff. In fact, I'm jonesing for a little brainless fun.” To Xander, she inquired, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Xander blinked, at first not seeming to register Buffy was talking to him. “Oh, I would, but, uh,” he reached over towards Cordelia, smiling winningly, “I'm kind of tied up.”

“You wish,” said Cordelia with a playful tone to her voice, pushing him away.

“Will?” Buffy inquired hopefully.

“Um, tomorrow I—” Willow began nervously.

“Oh, come on,” persisted Buffy. “Friends don't let friends browse alone?”

“Okay,” Willow agreed. “I had some schoolwork, but…I can change my plans.” She cast a furtive look over at Jenny.

“No worries,” said Jenny, taking a bite of her pizza bagel. “We can put off our lessons. I know how important it is to catch up when your friends come home.”

Giles somewhat awkwardly raised his cup to take a sip, one arm still around Jenny. “As for school, Buffy,” he began, “you know you'll have to talk to Principal Snyder before—”

“On it,” said Buffy with certainty. “Mom is making an appointment with His Ugliness.  I know she can break him.”

“I hope so,” said Jenny, wrinkling her nose. “Evil little troll man.”

“Jenny,” said Giles with feigned horror. “That’s our employer. He keeps a roof over your head.”

“Don’t you have Council funding?” Jenny pointed out. “I’ll just crash with you when I inevitably get fired.” She smiled warmly at Buffy. “I can always try and put in a good word for you,” she offered more seriously. “Alternatively, I could play the Injured-Teacher card and threaten to sue the school for my broken fingers if they don’t let you in. Snyder’s terrified of lawsuits.”

“Didn’t Angelus break your fingers?” Cordelia commented with a frown. Giles noticed Buffy’s small smile abruptly disappear.

“Don’t tell Snyder that,” said Jenny nonchalantly, and popped the pizza bagel into her mouth.

“I’m a bit concerned about Buffy,” Giles told Jenny after the children had left. “I’m—worried that she won’t be able to immediately adjust.”

“She’s chosen to come back.” Jenny, sitting on the edge of the bed, turned to look at him with a small, meaningful smile. “In my experience, that’s a huge first step.”

Giles ducked his head, smiling slightly. “Well,” he said, sitting down next to Jenny. “I doubt that my motivations for coming back are quite the same as hers.”

“I mean, I’d hope not,” Jenny teased him gently, leaning towards him. She traced his mouth with her fingertip. “We’re doing okay, I think,” she said. “So far.”

“We haven’t done all that much,” Giles objected halfheartedly.

“Rupert, for someone so loving, you can be incredibly cynical at times,” said Jenny with affection. “Hope is really all we can count on sometimes, you know? The question is whether or not you let that be enough for you.”

Giles hesitated, tucking a strand of hair behind Jenny’s ear. “I’m still not sure,” he said.

“Me neither,” Jenny replied, snuggling under the covers. Giles followed suit.

“Do you think I should cook something for the dinner at Buffy’s place?” Jenny asked Willow, picking up a sprig of rosemary from the box of herbs in front of them and holding it to her nose. “Hmm. Smell this?”

Willow took a whiff. “Old,” she said carefully. “Two months. Not fresh enough for a revitalization spell?”

“New,” said Jenny, trying to keep her face straight. “Two weeks. Just the kind a revitalization spell might need.”

“Oh,” said Willow disappointedly. “I think I’m better at the spell-casting than the ingredient-smelling.”

“It’s a process,” Jenny reassured her, putting the rosemary in the basket. “So about dinner—”

“Ms. Calendar, you’re super cool and everything, but, um, you’re not exactly the best cook,” said Willow carefully. “Maybe you should ask Giles? He makes some really good spaghetti.”

“You do have a point,” said Jenny thoughtfully, taking the lavender out of the box. “Smell?” Willow made a face. “Come on, Will, you can’t pick and choose the parts of magic you want to study,” she said patiently, “or you end up going all dark-scary-witch like one of my old coworkers.”

“You worked with a witch who went evil?” said Willow with interest. “What was she like?”

“She blew up my office,” said Jenny seriously. “And got fired soon after. And I don’t want you going down the road of property destruction and unemployment, which is what happens when you make magic into all play and no work.”

“So if I’m enjoying myself all the time, I’m doing it wrong?” said Willow, sounding a little disappointed.

“At this stage?” Jenny replied. “Yes. But as we move along to bigger, cooler things? I’ll keep you posted.” She smiled gently at Willow, then turned to beam at Rupert as he entered the library. “Hey, you. How’d it go with Snyder?”

“Eventually,” said Rupert, “I am going to kill the man.”

“And you always call me out for saying I wish he’d get eaten,” said Jenny with an amused smirk, but the anger in Rupert’s eyes didn’t go away as he sat down. She sighed, crossing the room to gently wrap her arms around his shoulders. “Tell you what,” she said with playful placation. “We can have a date night where we set his office on fire.”

“He has no right to keep Buffy out of school just because of—of his own petty desire to label her as a troublemaker,” said Rupert angrily. “He heavily favors the athletes, he’s rude and abrasive to nearly all the other students, and his salary is higher than actually qualified and talented teachers.” He looked up at her, his anger so stubbornly intense that it was almost endearing. “Why can’t we overthrow him as principal?” he inquired furiously. “Just—storm his office with pitchforks.”

“I think the magic lesson might have to wait,” Jenny informed a giggling Willow in a stage whisper, lightly massaging Rupert’s shoulders.

“I can hear you,” said Rupert irritably, but Jenny could feel his shoulders relaxing. He leaned back into her touch. “She deserves a public education,” he said sulkily.

“You can always threaten him into it,” said Jenny.

“I rather think I might, eventually,” Rupert agreed.

“Ooh, I’d like to watch that,” said Willow with enthusiasm.

Jenny gave Rupert a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll figure it out,” she said, resting her cheek briefly against his until she felt him smile slightly. Pulling away slowly, she turned to Willow. “All right, we’re going to get back to the herbs,” she began, “and—”

The phone rang. Rupert gave them both an apologetic smile and hurried to get it.

“Maybe we should wait until we know what it is,” said Willow, visibly hopeful.

“You know you’re just prolonging this,” Jenny reminded her with an amused smile.

“Shh,” said Willow petulantly.

“I’m sorry?” Rupert was saying from the office. “A dead—no, of course, we’ll be over right away. What? Well—myself and Jenny, of course. Yes—right. We’ll bring a cage.” He hung up and came out of the office, looking harried. “A dead cat just wandered into Buffy’s house,” he said. “Jenny, you were reading up on reanimation, weren’t you?”

“There were a few articles I’d printed out, but I don’t know if this is my forte,” said Jenny carefully.

Rupert smiled slightly. “Be that as it may,” he said, “as my supernatural colleague, I really would appreciate your help.”

Jenny blinked, blushed, and smiled back, stepping forward and tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. “Okay,” she said. “Willow, you hold down the fort?”

“Will do!” said Willow brightly. “I’ve got math class in ten minutes anyway, so maybe I’ll just—”

“Practice your meditation,” Jenny instructed her. Willow nodded. Turning to Rupert, she added, “You still keep that cage in your trunk?”

“I believe so,” Rupert replied.

“Prepared for every emergency,” said Jenny, and smiled at him.

“It looks dead,” Oz commented, observing the cat through the bars of the cage. “It smells dead. Yet it's moving around.  That's interesting.”

“Nice pet, Giles,” Cordelia added with visible distaste. “Don't you like anything regular?  Golf, USA Today, or anything?”

“I'm trying to find out how and why it rose from the grave,” Giles responded irritably as he came down the stairs from the stacks. “It's not as if I'm going to take it home and offer it a saucer of warm milk.”

“Bummer,” said Jenny. “I was kind of getting attached to the whole concept of you, me, and the dead cat as a family unit.”

“If that’s the case, I think you should call it Patches,” Oz added seriously.

“What about Buffy's welcome home dinner tonight?” Willow inquired a little worriedly. “I told her mom we'd help out.  Bring stuff.”

“I'm the dip,” Cordelia put in. All eyes turned to her.

“Uh, you gotta admire the purity of it,” said Xander with an awkward chuckle.

“What? Onion dip,” said Cordelia, as though it should have been obvious. “Stirring, not cooking.  It's what I bring.”

“We should figure out what kinda deal this is,” Oz added. “I mean, is it a gathering, a shindig or a hootenanny?”

“Is there a difference?” Jenny inquired.

“Well,” Oz began, “a gathering is brie, mellow song stylings. Shindig—dip,” he nodded to Cordelia, “less mellow song stylings, perhaps a large amount of malt beverage, and hootenanny, well, it's chock full of hoot, just a little bit of nanny.”

Jenny exchanged a bemused look with Giles, who was suddenly very grateful to have another adult in the room.

“Well, I hate brie,” Xander put in.

“I know,” Cordelia agreed vehemently. “It smells like Giles's cat.”

“It's not my—” Giles began irritably.

“And what'll we talk about at a gathering anyway?” Xander continued. “So, Buffy, did you meet any nice pimps on your travels?  And oh, by the by, thanks for ruining our lives for the past three months.”

“Xander,” said Jenny reprovingly.

“You know what I mean,” Xander brushed her off. “She doesn't want to talk about it, we don't want to talk about it, so why don't we just shut up and dance?”

“Well, Buffy said she did want to loosen up, you know, have some kid time,” said Willow thoughtfully. Turning to Oz, “Aren't you guys rehearsing tonight?  Why don't you play at the party?”

“Yeah, I think I could supply some Dingo action,” Oz agreed gamely.

“Uh, I'm not sure that, a, um,” Giles hesitated, “shindig—”

“Hootenanny,” Oz corrected him.

“Hootenanny,” Giles repeated tentatively, “is really the order of the day.  Maybe something a little more intimate. I mean, Buffy has just got home—I'm sure she's still feeling a little disoriented.”

“Yeah, I’m with Rupert on this one,” Jenny agreed. “Buffy seems like she could use some Scooby time before we throw her straight into a party.”

“I mean, it’s not really throwing,” Willow persisted. “More like—gently tossing, you know? Parties are fun, and Buffy likes fun, and Buffy likes parties! Plus a big party says ‘welcome home, Buffy’ way better than just all of us showing up for dinner.”

“Well—" began Jenny doubtfully.

Xander cut in, slapping Giles on the back. “Okay, so one vote from the old people for a smelly cheese night, and how many votes for actual fun, huh?” Willow, Oz, and Cordelia all raised their hands, grinning widely.

“All right, all right,” Giles conceded. “Have it your way.” He glanced up at Jenny, who had a worried, tense expression on her face. “Excuse me,” he added, standing and hurrying over to her. “My office?” he inquired.

Jenny nodded quickly, following him behind the counter and shutting the door behind them before finally saying, “I really don’t think a party is what Buffy needs right now.”

“I—” Giles hesitated. “I feel it isn’t exactly our place to—”

“Look, I know that as adults, there’s a generational gap and all that,” said Jenny quietly, “but I think Buffy spent her entire summer getting lost in the mix, and I think she came home because she wants to make sure she still has a place in the world. Of course I’m not gonna stop the kids from throwing her a party, but—I just think it would mean a lot to Buffy if you talked to her one-on-one at some point.”

Giles blinked, then smiled a bit nervously. “I’m—not quite sure what I’d say, to be truthful,” he confessed.

“I don’t know if you need to say all that much.” Jenny gave him an encouraging smile back. “Just tell her you missed her, and you’re glad she’s back, and you’re here if she needs any kind of support. That alone can do a lot for a person.”

“I suppose I can try,” Giles agreed. “We still do need to look into this dead cat occurrence, though; we might be a bit late to the, ah, hootenanny anyway.”

Jenny giggled. “Hootenanny,” she repeated in an unexpectedly accurate British accent, which made Giles laugh in surprise.

Rupert had made some brownies for the party and wouldn’t let Jenny eat any of them, which she found thoroughly unfair, especially since they still had to research the whole zombie-cat thing and it would be nice to have something sweet while she read. “You’ll get crumbs on the books,” he explained, “and we don’t even know how many people the children have invited to the party, so we need to make sure we don’t eat any until we’ve brought it to Buffy’s. It’s bad form.”

“You and your form,” said Jenny with an eye roll. “It’s past sunset and I’m hungry.”

She made another grab for the brownies. Rupert caught her hand midway, interlacing their fingers. “Come now, we’ve only an hour more before we give up and head to the party,” he coaxed.

“You said that an hour ago,” Jenny informed him.

“We lost research time when you started kissing me in the stacks,” Rupert pointed out, “so I feel it reasonable to add another hour on.”

“I admire your work ethic, but I also want a brownie,” said Jenny, sitting back in her chair and opening a book. “Ooh! Nigerian death mask! Anything there?”

“Nigerian?” repeated Rupert with a strange frown.

“Yeah. Here.” Jenny passed him the book. “Something about it holding the power of a zombie demon, but unless you’ve seen a mask lying around—”

“Dear god,” said Rupert shakily. Jenny looked up, startled at his sudden worry, and he elaborated, “I saw a mask just like this one in Joyce’s bedroom.”

“Should I be concerned about you being in Joyce’s bedroom or the death mask?” Jenny quipped. At Rupert’s look, “Right. Yep. Death mask.” Then it clicked. “Fuck, death mask at the huge party, we need to get there right now.”

“Glad to see we’re on the same page,” said Rupert. “I’ll call Buffy—”

“There’s no time,” said Jenny firmly. “If it’s already active, we need to get there as quickly as possible and destroy it before it starts attracting even more zombies.”

Rupert looked at her, then nodded. “You’re right,” he agreed. “We’d best get going.”

“And fast,” said Jenny, and took his hand, pulling them both up and out of the library.

They ran to the parking lot. Rupert’s car happened to be closest, or they would have used Jenny’s, which (as Jenny pointed out once Rupert had pulled out of the lot) would probably have been the faster car anyway. Rupert said something about now really not being the time and floored the gas.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered once they were a good distance away from the high school.

“What?” Jenny inquired.

“Do you like my mask?” Rupert mocked with an inane, wide-eyed smile. “Isn’t it pretty? It raises the dead.” He huffed. “Americans.”

“Oh, now that’s just stereotyping,” said Jenny indignantly, not at all noticing the person lumbering in front of the car. By the time she did, though, he was already bouncing off the windshield. She shrieked.

Rupert had slammed on the brakes, and the car had stopped, but the man was still lying facedown in the middle of the road. Rupert jumped out first, running to the man, and Jenny was halfway out of the car herself when the man raised its decaying face and grabbed her boyfriend by the throat.

Giles had a moment of sheer panic mingled with oxygen deprivation before the zombie fell back. Jenny had kicked it hard in the back of its knee, loosening its grip. “You keep your undead hands off my guy,” she told it, grabbing Giles’s hand and pulling him back to the car. Then, just after she’d shut her car door, “Shit, Rupert, the keys—”

Giles looked up. The keys, which must have fallen out of his pocket when the zombie picked him up, were now lying in the middle of the street. The street now full of zombies staggering towards the car.

“Sometimes I feel like my life is some kind of B-list horror movie,” said Jenny, but her voice was shaking.

Giles squeezed her hand, let go, and said, “Hit anything that comes near you,” before starting in on hotwiring the car. It was a bit touch and go initially, especially since he hadn’t done it in…ten years, at least, but he finally saw the spark and heard the engine start. “Like riding a bloody bicycle!” he informed Jenny, just as one of the zombies punched a hole in the window.

“Drive!” screamed Jenny, and Giles was more than happy to oblige.

The closer they got to the Summers house, the more zombies they seemed to come across. Giles was fairly certain he ran over more than a few of them, but this time he didn’t stop the car. He could tell now that none of the people in the middle of the car’s path were human; the few humans that they did see were running from zombies.

“So,” said Jenny weakly. “You hotwired a car.”

“Mm,” said Giles, making a fairly risky turn. They were four blocks away from the Summers house.

“Pretty sexy.”

“What?” Giles took his eyes off the road and ran down another zombie. “Dear lord.”

“Was that at me or the zombie?”

“Both, I believe,” Giles replied, pulling the car to a stop in front of the Summers house. The windows and door were all smashed and broken in. “How can you be flirting at a time like this?”

“I find it strangely calming,” Jenny answered simply, getting out of the car. Giles followed.

The house was still and quiet, free of any and all zombies. Giles was beginning to wish he’d thought to grab a weapon before leaving the library, but he hadn’t expected the mask to begin working so quickly. Hellmouth activity, most likely. “Jenny,” he said, voice low. “If you—”

Abruptly, there was a ski pole at his throat, and a familiar face at the other hand.

“Cordelia, it’s us, it’s us!” Giles hissed.

“How do we know it’s you guys and not zombie teachers?” Cordelia demanded.

“Cordelia, do stop being tiresome,” said Giles irritably, who had had quite enough of people being inadequately informed about zombies.

“Generally, zombies aren’t able to vocalize,” Jenny put in, and Giles looked over at her in gratified surprise. “Not if they’re reanimated, anyway.”

“I love you,” said Giles.

“I know,” said Jenny.

“It’s them,” said Cordelia with visible disgust, lowering the ski pole.

“I think the dead man’s party has moved upstairs,” Oz added, glancing upwards.

Giles heard crashing and growling from above them. “That makes sense,” he agreed as they all began to move towards the stairway.

“You did say the mask was in Joyce’s bedroom,” Jenny added.

“Mask?” Cordelia repeated.

“The mask holds the power of a zombie demon,” Giles explained. “Ovu Mobani.”

“Evil Eye,” Jenny translated, stepping past Giles to begin edging up the stairs.

“I don't think we can get past them,” Giles informed Cordelia and Oz.

“Well, what happens if they get the mask?” Oz inquired.

“If one of them puts it on,” Giles informed them, “they become the demon incarnate.”

“Worse than a zombie,” said Cordelia worriedly.

“Way worse,” Jenny agreed. “You guys okay?”

“Well, aside from all the yelling and violence, we’re good,” Oz replied. “You?”

“Rupert ran over like five zombies on the way here,” said Jenny proudly.

Cordelia was opening her mouth to say something when they all heard a loud crash of glass breaking. “Out back!” Giles shouted, and then a zombie grabbed the front of his shirt.

Jenny shrieked, grabbed one of the ski poles from Oz, and started hitting the zombie furiously. Oz took a ski pole from Cordelia and seemed to be doing his best to help, but not all that much was getting done.

“Go!” Jenny shouted to Oz. “Tell Buffy Mobani’s power lies in his eyes!” She glanced down at Giles. “Eyes, right?”

“Quite right, dear,” said Giles through gritted teeth, struggling to block the zombie from going up the stairs. “Oz, she has to go for the eyes to defeat him!” He didn’t quite see whether or not Oz heard him, because he was busy kicking at the zombie—really not the most effective way of fighting, but he was somewhat stuck.

Jenny landed one last hit on the zombie before it quite abruptly disappeared. The momentum of her strike carried her forward, and she most likely would have tumbled down the stairs if not for Giles very neatly catching her in his arms.

“Yikes,” she said breathlessly. “So, I’m guessing Buffy took out Mobani?”

“I mean, if you guys wanted to come over to my place for dinner,” Jenny was offering gracefully to Joyce in one corner. Willow and Oz were trading zombie stories, Xander and Cordelia were kissing, and Buffy was sitting on the sofa looking more than a bit wrung-out.

Giles hesitated. Over Joyce’s shoulder, Jenny caught his eye and gave him a gentle, pointed look. He walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Buffy.

“So you missed most of the party,” said Buffy with half a smile. “It was pretty crazy until the zombies showed up. We had a band and everything.”

“Jenny and I were of the mind that you might have preferred something more intimate,” said Giles tentatively, “but—I’d like to think you did have fun before the, ah, zombies?”

Buffy shrugged noncommittally, which was something of an answer in itself. “It’s good to be home,” she said carefully.

“If—if you’d like,” said Giles a bit nervously, “you could come over and have dinner with Jenny and myself. We always have Friday dinners together, and Willow helps cook on occasion. It’s become something of a tradition over the summer.”

“I guess a lot of things changed while I was gone,” said Buffy, still not quite looking at Giles.

“Not too many,” said Giles, and kept his eyes trained on Jenny and Joyce. “There are still people here who love you.”

Buffy was silent for a few seconds. Then, hesitantly, “I’m sorry I left, Giles. It just—”

Giles turned, looking at the nervousness in her eyes; this small, brave girl who he loved more than any wise Watcher should. “You chose to come back,” he said, and smiled slightly. “I’ve been told that that’s a huge first step.”

[peachesncreamkookies]

Empty Words Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Summary: Moving to the big city for some inspiration as an aspiring young author, you run into an idol and your simple journey becomes more twisted than originally planned.

Fighting off Tae for the fifth time that morning as he attacked you consistently, you finally rolled off his mattress and grabbed your phone. “Why are you in such a hurry to leave, why are you denying me? It’s my first day off in ages!” He wined and tried to drag you back in to bed but you jumped out of his grip and laughed triumphantly.

“It may be your day off but it certainly isn’t mine. I have work in an hour. I need to shower, get home and change then get to work on time.” He groaned in response, accepting defeat with no way to counter your schedule. “We could meet after work if you wanted to…” You trailed off,  feeling stupid for suggesting it. Doubt inched its way to the front of your mind as you observed the man who lay before you. You’d have been lying if you said he wasn’t good looking, he was great company too. There was no way in hell he was actually interested in you and he must just be using you for an easy hook up or something. With so many desperate, pleading fans, he probably liked your lack of crazy obsession for him.

“What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?” He got out of his bed and came to put a hand on your shoulder but you ducked out of the way and left the room. Lifting your phone off the cupboard, you headed out of the room and slammed into Jhope. He backed off you and laughed. Where were the rest of his clothes? Flustered, you moved away and bumped into Taehyung behind you.

“Y/N, are you okay? You seem to have a thing for bumping into members of our group it seems.” The topless dancer expressed a bright laugh as he squeezed your shoulder and headed towards the kitchen. Jin shouted from the kitchen to come for breakfast but you quickly rejected him and darted out the door. 

“Wait up, please!” Taehyung followed you out and caught you before you could leave. “Why are you suddenly pushing me off? You were fine the rest of the time, last night, I thought you liked me right? Even a little bit?” You couldn’t listen to his words any longer. If you were to let this go any further, you knew you would end up hurt. It wasn’t worth it.

You shook your head and turned away from him. “I’m sure your fans will be more willing to be coaxed into bed with you. I refuse to do that to myself.” Storming away, you ignored his shouts as he called after you. This move had really affected you and you just weren’t ready to deal with more. Naturally, you did as you always do when faced with any kind of dilemma and you put it at the back of your mind, closed the door, locked it, barricaded it and left it alone.

Getting home in the evening, you got into the lift waiting to sink into your bed and forget about the day. Of course nothing in life was ever that simple and sitting in front of your door was a clearly almost passed out Taehyung. He was obviously struggling to stay awake but when he noticed you, his eyes widened.  When he stumbled towards you, you realised how intoxicated he was. 

“What the hell are you doing outside my door, drunk?” He fell on you so you swung his arm over your shoulders. He was much larger than you so it took quite a bit of effort to support him while unlocking your apartment and dumping him on the sofa. “You sit here and you don’t move okay?” He nodded, stifling giggles 

Returning with a glass of water, you handed it to him and sat beside him. “I really just wanted to come and tell you that you were wrong about me and you saying I’d hurt you. But,” taking a gulp of water he continued to slur his words together, “I have hurt someone before and you might be right about me after all.” He sighed and lay across your lap like a cat and kept a hand on your thigh. He fell asleep way too quickly but there was no way you’d try moving him. He was completely gone and there was no waking him.

Allowing yourself to see, you peered at his face as he slept, so peaceful and still. His skin was immaculate and his hair fell over his head and your thigh. Smiling to yourself, you stroked his soft hair and you began to wonder. He did just say he’d hurt someone before, was that who you reminded him of? What were you even doing? Why did he have a habit of just showing up at your apartment uninvited? The bigger question was why you never sent him out on his rear.

Questioning yourself was bothersome to say the least and you weren’t sure you cared either. He turned out okay. You didn’t understand him though. Not even a bit. Did you have the energy to try? Was he worth it? Groaning in frustration with your conflicted soul, you lay your head back and cleared your mind. You couldn’t move with the sleeping man on your lap, there was no escaping. Accepting your position, you drifted to sleep.

Peeling your eye lids open by sheer force, you peered down to see what had woken you. Remembering the night before and observing your slumber buddy, you saw him wrap his arms around your waist and continue to snore. His head was on your torso and you had ended up half lying under him. You weren’t really sure why you were comfortable in such a state with him but he was just so innocent. In some ways. From the limited time you’d spent with him, you noticed the caring side of him when he put you to bed and left you to sleep, the playful side when he attacked you with tickles, and the innocent side where he was sweet and maybe a bit… blank. Of course you couldn’t forget how he was when he was in the mood and his demeanour changed completely from cute, to extreme testosterone man in seconds. That was the enigma, Kim Taehyung.

Stroking his hair for what seemed like hours, he finally began to come back. He put both of his hands on your stomach and rested his chin on them to look up at you. He smiled and let out a big yawn which then transformed into a wince as he tried to get up and felt the blinding headache that was a fun side effect to getting drunk the previous night. He flopped back down and clutched his head, clearly in pain. 

You knew how this went so you got up to make him tea to accompany some pain killers. He gratefully accepted the offer and flopped onto the chair at the kitchen counter. You began to fry up a breakfast, usually you would have music playing to fill the silence but you weren’t alone for once and loud noise with a hangover is never a good combination. Instead you ended up humming a tune to yourself while frying the eggs. 

Handing him the plate, finally looking up from your workstation, you caught him staring at you. When he noticed you staring back, he offered an embarrassed smile and bowed his head sightly in thanks for the food. As he began to dig in, you watched him wolf the food down as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He finished quite quickly and clearly was not full from the normal sized portion you gave him.

“It was really good, thank you for the food.” He smiled, holding back a request he had at the back of his mind. He didn’t want to insult you as you were being hospitable, letting him sleep in your home and then looking after him the next day. He was hungry though and he had practice later. He decided to hold off and offer to get the both of you lunch.

“I don’t have any more food, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise how much you eat, I haven’t eaten yet either…” He stood up quickly, instantly regretting it but managing and ended up scrapping his earlier plan. 

“You haven’t eaten and I’m sorry but I am also still hungry. Would you like to stop over at my place and catch the last of breakfast before we all go to practice?” He seemed relieved and you seemed to share the feeling, your stomach gargling and whining for some of Seokjin’s breakfast, whatever that may be. “Do you have a bike?” 

“Yes I do! I’ve been meaning to cycle since I got here but I haven’t had the chance.” Excited you ran to your room to get changed, flinging off your clothes. “I’ll be ready in a minute, don’t touch anything!” Frantically whizzing around the room, you managed to get ready in two minutes. You’d have to have a bath in the evening after work you noted.

When you exited your room, you froze as you saw Taehyung flicking through your ‘ideas journal’. He chuckled to himself as he went through different pages then his face completely changed, like a child being caught stealing cookies. With a sudden posture change, he held the book high and began to theatrically read quotes.

“He stared deep into her eyes, as if he could see her soul in its entirety-” tackling him, he continued the humiliation, “He felt as though the emptiness within him was being filled with none other than…” Pausing for dramatic affect and getting away from you, he prepared his cheesy finale, “love!” He bent over laughing, unable to stomach the cheesiness of your words. Defeated and admittedly knowing how bad it was, you let him laugh and tease you until you got out of the lift and exited the building. 

“I can probably cycle faster than you, so you’re going at the back.” He didn’t expect the argument but he should have.

“It’s my bike! I ride it, just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I have to go to the back.” Your complaints stopped short when you thought it all through. He looked at you with a deadpan look on his face, not even triumphant at his victory. His profession included him working out and dancing on an almost daily basis, he was much fitter than you and you didn’t actually want to cycle both of your weights there anyway. 

Sliding behind him, you wrapped your arms around his middle and you were off. He was right, he cycled fast. Arriving quite quickly, you headed to the door, eager to be fed. He chained up your bike and unlocked the door. Heading in behind him, he spun around and held his hand over your eyes.

“Go put some clothes on!” He barked to someone as you wriggled under his grip, he let go once the person shuffled out of the room. “I forgot to call in and tell them to put clothes on.” Kicking his shoes off, he jogged to the kitchen, being led by the fresh smells of their Eomma’s cooking. 

“Come, there’s still food left!” Scurrying towards him, the scents got stronger and your belly grew hungrier. Both you and your starving friend ate in silence, eagerly trying to satisfy your hunger. Once you finished, he took the things to wash up and met you again on the couch as you both lay, pregnant with food babies. It was definitely worth leaving the house for.

“I understand why your manager sent you here.” He spoke out of the blue, in a lower, more mature voice. Another side of him that you had not yet seen. “It’s clear reading those little bits that you wrote, that the words are empty, they’re just recycled events from other people’s lives.” You sat back, to really see him while he said this. He looked so different. Much more down to Earth and maybe even a bit broken compared to before. 

“The truth is, like I said, I just haven’t experienced anything. Trauma, adventure… Love, heartbreak.” Sullen and shy, you put your knees up to your chest and hugged your legs. “My manager will be expecting something from me at some point. I still haven’t really experienced the kind of thing he expects.”

In the moment where both of you began to show what was really behind your smiles and laughter, he put his hand on your nape and pulled you in for a soft kiss in the tender moment. Emotions bubbling under the surface, two people so different yet in the same feeling, you relished in the contact your lips made as the world around you seemed to blur. The moment reminded you of seeing a video of a highway on fast forward as the two of you at at the side, still in time.

At least, it felt like the world had faded away until you both snapped out of it at the sound of someone’s uncomfortable cough as they announced themselves. Namjoon entered the room, fidgeting with his sleeve and struggling to find his words.

“You guys are together then? Congratulations.” He offered a forced smile and went to get his shoes. Meanwhile, you looked at Taehyung, hoping to find some kind of reaction, be it joy or sheer terror, you were met with neither. Instead, he smiled and turned to you.

“If we’re together, should we go on a real date? Actually have fun and get to know each other?” Speechless and unable to respond, you just looked at him. Is this really happening? I mean, what’s the harm right? We keep bumping into each other anyway and I need to get some experiences down.

“Fine, maybe you can show me a part of Seoul as you never got around to giving me that tour you promised?” He smiled and kissed you on the cheek then you both got up to head out to work. When you turned around you were greeted by Jimin and Jhope who were eavesdropping on your conversation and it seemed they witnessed it all. 

“Wow, our Taehyung’s a man now, going out on a real date ah~” Jimin teased his fellow 95 liner while Hoseok grinned at you widely and started dancing with you in victory. You shot a desperate glance at Tae and he understood they were too much. 

“Guys, leave her alone, she has to go to work now, right?” Nodding, you said bye to everyone and began to cycle to work, alone with your thoughts. You were officially going on a date. 

[cheanlenu]

Seeking a long term RP partner

Hello all. It has been quite some time since I last posted, but I am looking once again for a long term partner. This is for an original work of mine. A combination of high fantasy, and high science fiction. I am looking for a female partner. With that said, I won’t do MxM. I prefer MxF, but can be persuaded to do FxF.     Now with that out of the way a little about my do’s, and don'ts. I am over 18 so as far as smut goes I am ok with it. Personally I do not revolve my RP around smut, but just like real life it can happen. I like building relationships in an RP from the ground up. I do have a few limits as far as smut goes, but I will discuss those with my partner after our first meeting. Let me just say I don’t like extremes, and fetishes. I don’t tend to fade to black, bit will If my partner wishes to. I prefer to RP in a relaxed atmosphere, and one can’t do that if your partner feels uncomfortable.

    What I am looking for is someone to play one of the various roles there are available on an intergalactic star ship. It can be anywhere from captain, and on down to a mechanic. In the story there are three major plots taking place, and five sub plots. There are also three major factions to be aware of as well. These are things I will explain to who is interested. Now I do have room for if more than one person wishes to join. The story was originally designed for up to fifteen people.

    Now I am a bit grammatically challenged, and make mistakes myself. I do not expect to find perfection, and I hope you will extend me the same liberty. I do however expect at least one paragraph responses. I do understand in certain situations a multi paragraph response might not be possible. Trust me I have been written into a corner before, on many occasions. I do need to be able to read, and understand what is written. So I will not accept shorthand, or text speak. I have friends where english is not their native tongue, so translation errors are overlooked. Trust me I have become rather good at reading translation errors. I am a story teller at heart, and tend to get rather absorbed into the roles I play. A writer I am not, but wish I were. I work long hours, sometimes up to sixteen a day for six days a week. So sometimes it takes me a day to write a response. I try not to write when I am so exhausted I can’t hold my head high enough to read the screen. I have included below a little sample, and a little backdrop. If your interested shoot me an email, or contact me on discord. Hope to hear from you.

    The year is 3098 A.D., and it has been almost one hundred years since its discovery. In the year 3000, an exploration team, on the primitive planet of Toril, made a rather startling discovery. They discovered a large ship. At first the team had no idea what they had found. They just assumed it was a remnant of a lost civilization. As they dug deeper, and uncovered more of it. They soon realized, this was no buried city. Though the leader of the team still thought as much considering its size. They spent weeks trying to find a way inside. Finally, when they were just about to give up. The leader located something she thought might be a door. For hours, they tried everything they could think of, to open the door. Finally, without warning or reason, it just opened. A loud hiss as the air rushed out. A stale musty smell of decay and oil. Several of the team lost their lunch. The door stood half open. almost inviting their curiosity. The team gathered some spare torches, and with lit lanterns went inside.

    They were amazed at how much metal it took to build this, and at how smooth the walls were. They were puzzled by the strange markings on the walls, and devices on the ceiling. They pressed on into the huge metal building. After about an hour of climbing and hiking. They finally came to a huge open room. This room had chairs, and all manor of glass faced tables in front of them. They discovered the remains of several bodies, long since decayed by these chairs. The leader was rather curious as to the one who still sat in the chair in the middle. There was a shinny metal symbol still pinned to the all but decayed clothing. When she reached out and picked it up, she felt a sharp stick and dropped it. Looking at her finger there was a drop of blood from a small pin hole in her finger. Suddenly the room became bright, and all the glass tables lit up. The hum of electricity began to crackle through the air, and the team all backed up. Some were scared enough to draw weapons.     A crackle is heard along with some static.“Buzz…fttt…buzz..ftt. DNA sample accepted. Restarting command protocols for new captain. Password locks removed. DNA access registered. Race unknown. Beginning system status checks. Engines off line. Weapons off line. Shields off line. Life support off line. External scanners fifty percent operational. Internal scanners seventy percent operational. Power systems off line. Battery backup sixty-three percent. Medical on line full power reserve and subsystems on line. Cryosleep systems on line. Central core forty percent. Detecting heavy damage to brain core. Memory systems…attempting restore….unable to restore. Memory modules missing.” The voice then ends.

    In the moments that passed the team looked very confused. They begin to come away from the wall and look around again. The leader however still looking dazed by what just happened. Suddenly an image of a man in a uniform materializes in from of her. The image is shaky and fades in and out. He looks right at the leader and says. “Greetings captain. I have been waiting a very long time for you. My name is William, and you don’t know how pleased I am to have you aboard.” He pauses for a moment as he takes a closer look at her. “Ohhhh….Ummm. This is going to be a very long and awkward explanation. It still does not change the fact I am happy to see you. I was however expecting someone a bit more up to date.” He makes the sound of clearing his throat. “Seeing as though you haven’t run away screaming. That makes what I am about to ask easier. Now as far as my captain goes I will explain everything later. Right now however there is a matter that is more urgent. Currently on board there are 2500 survivors in a deep sleep. The power that is keeping them alive is being depleted fast. Which means there is damage somewhere I can’t see. It would take to long to explain how to fix it. To wake up the survivors is much easier. I beg of all of you please help me save them.”     The leader looks at her team and they all nod at her. She looks back at the man with a smile. “You owe me a big explanation, and of course we will help you. We would never let anyone die. If we can help them we will do our best.” The man looks relieved. “I promise I will explain everything. I will light the way to the cryosleep chamber. Just follow the lights, and I will walk you through everything once there.”

    He vanishes and the door opens. She and her team head with haste down the hall following the lighted path. When they finally reach the bay. They find several of the sleep chambers open, and remains of bodies next to them. The image of the man materializes in the bay. This image is clearer than the previous one. “I am glad to see all of you made it without to much trouble.” He looks down at the remains. He sighs, and closes his eyes for a few moments. “Your loss, and names will not be forgotten. Captain, since you have the only command access at the moment. I need you to operate the main life support console.” He points to a large console in a small room in the bay. “Don’t worry I will walk you through everything.” He looks at the other members of her team. “Once she begins the process I will need your help at each pod. The pods will open one at a time, and there will be flashing lights on the side. Each of you man an opening pod, and when all the lights turn greed push the red button.” He walks over to a pod and points to the button. “If the lights don’t all turn green there is nothing we can do. I will try to get medical personal first to assist if I can. Unfortunately my memory systems have suffered major damage. So this is going to be hit or miss. Once the person in the pod starts breathing pull the large cord out of the end. With each pod disconnected we can conserve some energy and buy us more time. It is going to take quite a long time to do this, and on behalf of the Elyssian people I thank you.” He bows deeply.

    The process takes them almost an entire day. During which time he explains everything he can to the leader, and his new captain. The people on board are refugees from a dying world. Their sun was going nova, and their only hope was to escape. They hatched a plan to evacuate as many people as they could save on ships just like him. They had a course and destination set for an uninhabited world. Something went wrong however. Somehow the engines and navigation system failed, and they crashed way off course. He then explains that he and his people have been asleep for nearly a thousand years under that mountain. He explains how she became his new captain. There is a built in protocol that only allows him to survive as long as he has a captain. He has been surviving all this time, by putting all his systems on maintenance subroutines. He kept cycling them through maintenance checks, but he was nearly out of time. When she came along he had just about given up. So he made a hasty choice, and kept apologizing for doing so. Soon she learns much of their story, or as much as his memory still remembers. She also discovers that he is an organic life form. The ship itself is actually alive, and has organic systems as any creature would. His memory core is actually a living brain. Also with the incorporation of her DNA into his systems. The tissue that makes up his systems has begun to rewrite its DNA sequence to match hers. Further integrating her into his systems as his new captain. He gets a little scared at the fact she has stayed rather calm through everything he has told her.

    Finally, by the third day, most of the passengers they were able to save were up and about. Out of the 2500 total they were able to save around 1900. Some of the pods were damaged in the crash, and some just failed to function. She takes a long look at William. “You have been calling me captain for three days now. I do not know how the protocol is on the world you came from but here we have names. My name is Calinis and I would like you to remember that and start using it. If I am stuck with you as you say then your going to use my name. If you don’t I will find a way to chisel it into your brain. That is an order.” He stands up straight and salutes. “Aye aye Captain Calinis.” She sighs. “Better. I guess that will have to do. Now we have a much bigger problem. Your people can’t stay here forever, and they can’t actually go to the surface on my world. I think the culture shock would be enough. That is not to mention the techno shock. I think it best if we try to get you repaired and back into space. Though that is going to be rather difficult considering we are under almost a mile of rock. I will provide a list of resources I can get for your engineers, and they can figure out how to make them work. Though I am happy to hear your engines run off of water. That I can get you plenty of. Food as well for your passengers. Your hydroponics…is it…was destroyed. So they will need sustenance. I will also gather some trusted friends to assist us as well. We will need as much help as we can muster. So just sit tight and don’t go anywhere.” She smiles and he gives her a very sarcastic look.

    However things did not go as planned. The ship was repaired within the next three months. Unfortunately during that time, some of the technology got leaked to the planet of Toril. The leak was small at first, but the damage was already done. It began to spread, and to many questions were being asked. It seemed the harder Calinis tried to contain it the worse it got. Within a year the damage was beyond repair. The people of Toril began to change. So being unable to stop the tidal wave. Calinis decided to embrace it. She took the time, and contacted leaders from several nations. She held a meeting between them, herself, and William. Slowly she began to convince them that to limit the damage already done. The people of Toril needed to educated to what was going on. That way the technology wont cause more harm. After things started to calm down, and the people of Toril became more accustomed to the new technology, and way of life. Calinis thought it high time to begin the search for the remaining ships. If all of them crashed as William had then there is a chance to save more of his people. Though neither her nor William had any idea where to start looking. This also falls into the factor that the expanse of space being a much larger ground to cover. As well as the factor that these ships will more than likely be needing a new captain. She knew she was going to need help, and a lot of it. Her and William talked it over in great length before coming up with a plan. With the help of her team, and some of the Elyssian people. She was going to teach, and train people to help, and be captains. William volunteered himself for the use of training the new help. Turning himself into an academy to train new cadets for the search.

My email: dreamgiver28@hotmail.com

Discord Handle:Cheanlenu#6898

[gyrlversion]

Londoners brace for second day of climate protest chaos

London is braced for another day of climate change protests today from demonstrators, including some who sent the night in tents in the city’s parks, after a day of disruption yesterday from protesters who targeted busy thoroughfares.

Close to fifty people were arrested as police attempted to move on protesters who spent yesterday blocking roads and demonstrating outside tube stations, following five arrests outside Shell’s headquarters where they glued themselves to windows and smashed glass doors.

Some activists glued themselves to the windows and smashed glass revolving doors at Shell’s headquarters near Waterloo, while others spray-painted graffiti and hung banners on the building. 

Workers returning home from areas around Waterloo Bridge, Oxford Circus, Marble Arch and Piccadilly Circus faced being unable to get through by road to Underground stations thanks to the Extinction Rebellion protests.

At around 7pm police started arresting protesters still to be found on Waterloo Bridge, after police issued an order under the Public Order Act telling demonstrators to limit their protest to the area around Marble Arch.

Climate change activists camp at the Marble Arch during a Extinction Rebellion protest in London yesterday

In Oxford Circus the demonstrators’ pink boat was still in place as some settled into tents for the night and others waved flags

Climate change activists also camped at Marble Arch, after a day in which 52 of their number were arrested by the Met

Police said three men and two women were arrested on suspicion of criminal damage over the Shell incident. Extinction Rebellion claimed they aimed to cause more than £6,000 in damage so they can be tried by a jury in the crown court.

A Metropolitan Police statement said that ‘information and intelligence available to the Met at this time means that that Met feels this action is necessary in order to prevent the demonstrations from causing ongoing serious disruption to community.’ 

By midnight last night, the police said, there had been 52 arrests in total, the majority of which were for breach of Section 14 Notice of the Public Order Act 1986 and obstruction of the highway.

Encampments sprung up last night at the sites of the demonstrations in Marble Arch and Oxford Circus, while Waterloo Bridge looked increasingly deserted. 

As night fell the Met police declared that the ‘Extinction Rebellion’ demonstration should pull back to the area around Marble Arch and started escorting protesters off Waterloo Bridge

The bridge was left covered in trees, plants, graffiti and tents after the day of protest by green activists 

The Extinction Rebellion demonstration left the tarmac scrawled with slogans including ‘big love’ and ‘stop climate change’

After night fell protesters started to disperse but many continued to wave placards including one reading ‘rebel for life on earth’

Metropolitan Police officers carried some protesters away from the demonstration after issuing an order restricting the demo to Marble Arch

Extinction Rebellion eco-protesters wave flags from the Shaftesbury Memorial Fountain at Piccadilly Circus in London today

Environmental protestors from the Extinction Rebellion group gather around a pink boat at Oxford Circus in London today

Climate protest group Extinction Rebellion block London’s Oxford Circus today at the start of a week of planned protests

As afternoon commuters were blocked by protests and lines of bodies the environmentalists continue to make their voices heard at Edgware Road

Police officers detain a climate change activist during the Extinction Rebellion protest at the Shell Centre in London today

Activists from Extinction Rebellion block Oxford Circus with a sailing boat today to highlight the threat of global warming

Extinction Rebellion climate protesters in the centre of Oxford Circus stopping any traffic

Demonstrators speak during the Extinction Rebellion protest on Waterloo Bridge, with the City of London in the background

Extinction Rebellion activists sit under a van on the road during the climate change protests in London today

Protesters gather at Parliament Square with banners as they take part in the Extinction Rebellion demonstration today

Environmental protesters from the Extinction Rebellion group in fancy dress dance march towards Oxford Circus today

A group of protesters lie on the pavement and road as they stop traffic moving on Oxford Street in London today

Demonstrators shout and wave flags during the Extinction Rebellion protest at Oxford Circus in London today

A climate change activist is seen with her hands glued to the entrance of the Shell Centre in London during today’s protests

Activists targeted five locations – the fifth being Parliament Square – as they demand the Government declare a climate emergency, but organisers warned they could be arrested for blocking traffic.

Protesters are holding people’s assemblies, performances, talks and workshops – with a colourful display of flags bringing normally busy routes to a standstill, and trees placed on Waterloo Bridge making it a ‘Garden Bridge’.

Skateboarders replaced cars and lorries on Waterloo Bridge, with police saying there were no plans to move protesters on – but indicated that the response might have changed if there were a major disruption at rush-hour.

Protesters who blocked roads approaching Heathrow Airport, in a 2016 Black Lives Matter protest, were arrested and later found guilty of wilful obstruction of the highway and fined several hundred pounds each.

One officer said: ‘It’s been very peaceful so far. Everyone has been really pleasant. The only grief we’ve had is from passing motorists shouting at them to ‘Get a job’ – that’s about as exciting as it’s got.’ 

Hundreds of people gathered outside Oxford Circus Tube station around a pink boat with the words ‘tell the truth’ printed on it, where some used makeshift devices to lock their arms together. 

Marble Arch was also blocked, while demonstrators caused further disruption as they made their way from Hyde Park Corner to Piccadilly Circus. In Parliament Square, others unfurled banners and held up placards and flags.

Some observers said the protests would lead to others taking longer journeys than normal, with one labelling the protesters ‘deluded zealots’ and another tweeting: ‘The one day I get the bus to work all the routes are messed up.’

Amid a relatively small police presence today, Scotland Yard said they have ‘appropriate policing plans’ in place and officers will be used from across the force ‘to support the public order operation during the coming weeks’.

Police advised people travelling around London in the coming days to allow extra time for their journey. People in at least 80 cities in more than 33 countries are holding similar demonstrations on the same issues today.

Some people set up camp in Hyde Park overnight into today, although permission had not been sought from the Royal Parks, which said camping is not allowed. But police said no arrests had been made by midday today. 

Transport bosses told of widespread disruption amid 20 bus routes being diverted, with organisers of the Extinction Rebellion group claiming up to 30,000 eco-protesters will block major routes today.

The movement, which is demanding the Government takes urgent action on climate change and wildlife declines, has been backed by actress Dame Emma Thompson and former Archbishop of Canterbury Dr Rowan Williams.  

This graphic shows how parts of London have been reduced to gridlock by the protests today, with severe delays in red

Some people pointed out that the protests would lead to others taking longer journies than normal, while one woman tweeted: ‘Allow that on the one day I get the bus to work that all the routes are messed up because of a demonstration’

People on a glass roof of the Shell building on the Southbank in London today during the Extinction Rebellion protest

Police officers talk to a climate change activist next to the smashed glass entrance of the Shell Centre in London today

Environmental campaigners block Oxford Circus during a co-ordinated protest by the Extinction Rebellion group today

Environmental campaigners walk across Waterloo Bridge as they take part in the Extinction Rebellion protest today

Protesters gather on Waterloo Bridge in London for a demonstration this morning which closed the area to traffic

Demonstrators hold skeleton models during a Extinction Rebellion protest at Parliament Square in London today

Women and children have a bite to eat outside the entrance to Oxford Circus Tube station during the protests today

Climate change activists lie in front of Marble Arch during an Extinction Rebellion protest in London this afternoon

A demonstrator gets escorted into a police van outside the Shell building near Waterloo in London during the protest today

The busy Thames crossing of Waterloo Bridge was closed to traffic in both directions this morning, Transport for London said

Police officers stand on guard outside the graffiti-covered Shell Centre in London during the protests today

Demonstrators during a Extinction Rebellion protest at Parliament Square in London this morning

Demonstrators gather for Extinction Rebellion action in Parliament Square, one of five linked protests in London today

A climate change activist is seen with his hands glued to the entrance of the Shell Centre in London today

A woman dresses as the Statue of Liberty during a Extinction Rebellion protest at Parliament Square in London today

The campaigners, who include the granddaughter of a baronet, are demanding the introduction of a legally binding policy to reduce carbon emission to net zero by 2025. 

They say they will continue to block key roads in London for weeks and ‘escalate civil disobedience’ if their demands are not met. The first stage this morning saw protesters take over Waterloo Bridge from 10am.

The next part of their global ‘Rebellion Week’ saw human barricades formed at Marble Arch, Oxford Circus, Parliament Square and Piccadilly Circus. 

Protester Olivia Evershed, 23, said: ‘I hope that it’s really going to bring awareness about the emergency crisis that we are in, and encourage the Government to act. 

‘They can change a few of the laws along with the Paris agreement so that we can really work towards achieving a practical target. We’ve got 12 years to act before there is irreversible damage to the environment and we start to see catastrophic changes. If we don’t do anything to change this, our children will die.’

Laura Jordan, 52, said: ‘This protest stands a good chance of working because we have a vast amount of ordinary people all saying the same thing. We need to change the way we do everything, the way we use fossil fuels. But this starts with the Government.’

Laura Sorensen, a retired teacher from Somerset, was among the protesters on Waterloo Bridge. She told the Guardian: ‘I am so worried about what’s happening to the planet. We are on a knife-edge now.

Protesters from Extinction Rebellion gather at Oxford Circus which has been blocked by the ‘ship of truth’

Protesters from the Extinction Rebellion group take part in a demonstration on Waterloo Bridge in London today

Activitis used the boat at Oxford Circus this morning as part of a protest urging the Government to take action

A man skateboards on a temporary ramp as environmental protestors stage a protest in the road on Waterloo Bridge today

A man stands on railing as protesters from Extinction Rebellion gather at Oxford Circus in London today

Demonstrators in colourful outfits and face paint take part in the Extinction Rebellion protest at Oxford Circus in London

A demonstrator knits while sat in the road as it is blocked during a climate protest on Waterloo Bridge in London today

‘I felt strongly that I needed to get out and show myself, rather than just talk about it in the pub. I see this disaster unfolding all around me… it is terrifying and the government have done nothing despite all the warnings.’

One driver caught up in the chaos told Sky News: ‘Well, I knew it was coming. It’s not ideal. But I do understand where they’re coming from.’

Another added: ‘It’s fair enough really, but we’re pumping fuel out the back while they’re stopping us from going. I’m not happy about it, I’ll end up going back down, it will cost me another two hours in the day.’

Their goal is to shut down vital roads and transport links, causing misery for commuters and keeping over-stretched police officers busy for hours. 

Waterloo Bridge was was closed to traffic in both directions this morning, Transport for London (TfL) said. Extinction Rebellion tweeted pictures of activists walking on the road and said: ‘We have taken Waterloo Bridge!’ 

Demonstrators in colourful costumes during the Extinction Rebellion protest at Oxford Circus in London today

Environmentaal activists dress up in flamboyant costumes as they take part in a protest blocking Oxford Circus today

Banners urging politicians to ‘act now’ are held by Extinction Rebellion protesters at Oxford Circus in London today

Environmental protestors from Extinction Rebellion take part in a demonstration on Waterloo Bridge in London today

Protestors gather on the north side of Waterloo Bridge in London today as they take part in a global eco-movement

Environmental protesters from the Extinction Rebellion group stage a demonstration at Marble Arch in London today

Protesters put trees on the pavement at Waterloo Bridge today as they urge the Government to take action on climate change

Waterloo Bridge is pictured today as demonstrators put trees on the pavement as part of their ‘Garden Bridge’ creation

It was one of five central London locations being targeted by demonstrators demanding that the Government declares a climate emergency.

But Extinction Rebellion warned protesters they could face arrest for blocking traffic, while TfL said Londoners face travel delays.

Humans have declared war on nature, says former Archbishop of Canterbury

Humans have declared war on nature and put progress before the planet, the former Archbishop of Canterbury said on the eve of environmental protests aimed at bringing London to a standstill.

Dr Rowan Williams said the world is in a crisis which could be called ‘being at war with ourselves’.

He spoke at a meditation event outside St Paul’s Cathedral in the capital attended by activists preparing to take part in mass demonstrations organised by the Extinction Rebellion group.

Sitting on the ground amid protesters who held flags and banners, he said: ‘We have declared war on our nature when we declare war on the natural world. We are at war with ourselves when we are at war with our neighbour, whether that neighbour is human or non-human.

‘We are here tonight to declare that we do not wish to be at war. We wish to make peace with ourselves by making peace with our neighbour earth and with our God.’

Praying at the all-faith gathering, he added: ‘We confess that we have polluted our own atmosphere, causing global warming and climate change that have increased poverty in many parts of our planet. We have contributed to crises and been more concerned with getting gold than keeping our planet green. We have loved progress more than the planet. We are sorry.’

Extinction Rebellion, which describes itself as a non-violent direct action and civil disobedience group, said the protests at major central London locations including Parliament Square and Oxford Circus from Monday ‘will be bringing London to a standstill for up to two weeks’.

A TfL spokesman said: ‘The safety of our customers and staff is our number one priority and we’re working closely with the police to manage the impact on London’s transport network. 

‘We would encourage people to check their journeys before they travel.’ 

The so-called festival of action will see food stalls set up and talks given in the middle of the road throughout the day. Some protesters even plan to super-glue their hands to objects in the road and each other. 

One of those expected on the streets is Tamsin Omond, the granddaughter of Dorset baronet Sir Thomas Lees. The 35-year-old went to Westminster School and Trinity College, Cambridge. 

The most prominent figure in Extinction Rebellion is Left-wing academic Roger Hallam, whose stated ambition for the group is to ‘bring down all the regimes in the world and replace them’, starting with Britain.

Last November, Extinction Rebellion blocked bridges across London to bring chaos to the capital. 

In February, they took part in a nationwide school strike and on April 1, during one of the Brexit debates, a group of their protesters stripped off in the House of Commons. 

The movement, which is demanding the Government takes urgent action on climate change and wildlife declines, has received support from actress and activist Dame Emma Thompson and former archbishop of Canterbury Dr Rowan Williams.

Speaking at a meditation on the eve of the protests, Dr Williams said humans had declared war on nature.

He said: ‘We are here tonight to declare that we do not wish to be at war. We wish to make peace with ourselves by making peace with our neighbour Earth and with our God.’

Dame Emma has previously said of the demonstrations: ‘It is time to stand up and save our home.’

Organisers said: ‘The international rebellion begins and Extinction Rebellion will be bringing London to a standstill for up to two weeks. 

Police speak to demonstrators during a Extinction Rebellion protest on Waterloo Bridge in London today

Activists at Marble Arch in London today who are part of the protest that has pledged to block five central locations

Protesters gather on Waterloo Bridge as they bring trees to place on the pavement during their demonstration today

Extinction Rebellion protesters turn Waterloo Bridge into their own ‘Garden Bridge’ during a day of action in London today

Climate change activists block Waterloo Bridge during an Extinction Rebellion protest in London today

A environmental protestor from the Extinction Rebellion group draws the group’s logo on a road at Marble Arch today

Protesters gather on Waterloo Bridge in London for their Extinction Rebellion demonstration this morning

Waterloo Bridge is the first of five London landmarks to be taken over by enviromental protesters this morning

Protesters hold a banner as they stand on the street at Waterloo Bridge in London this morning during the demonstration

Extinction Rebellion demonstrators gather at Parliament Square in London today ahead of their protest action

The disruption on Waterloo Bridge today is the UK element of what organisers hope will be an international movement

Protesters from the Extinction Rebellion group gather at Marble Arch this morning ahead of the demonstrative action

Transport for London have lines of buses on standby outside Underground stations this morning ahead of the disruption

Demonstrators arrived at London’s Hyde Park yesterday, and are pictured above getting ready for the day this morning

‘They will be blocking five of the city’s busiest and most iconic locations in a non-violent, peaceful act of rebellion where they invite people to join them for several days of creative, artist-led resistance.’

Protests across Europe 

Today will see people in at least 80 cities in more than 33 countries hold similar climate demonstrations.

The first protest of the day was held at Schuman Square in Brussels this morning as protesters formed a human ‘XR’ logo – the same as that of Extinction Rebellion.

The Extinction Rebellion ‘Rebellion Week’ begins at Schuman Square in Brussels today as protesters form a human ‘XR’ logo

Demonstrators arrived at London’s Hyde Park on Sunday, some having journeyed to the city on foot in recent weeks from various parts of the UK. 

Today will see people in at least 80 cities in more than 33 countries hold similar demonstrations on the same environmental issues, campaigners said.

While organisers encouraged people to set up camp in Hyde Park overnight into today, they were warned they could be breaking the law by doing so under Royal Parks legislation.

A spokesman for The Royal Parks said Extinction Rebellion had not asked for permission to begin the protest in the park and that camping is not allowed.

But police said no arrests were made overnight after earlier explaining their operational response to camping ‘would be dependent on what if any other issues might be ongoing at the time’.

Police advised people travelling around London in the coming days to allow extra time for their journey in the event of road closures and general disruption. 

On April 1, during one of the Brexit debates, a group of Extinction Rebellion protesters stripped off in the House of Commons 

Extinction Rebellion protesters sit after pouring fake blood onto the ground in London outside Downing Street on March 9

Extinction Rebellion climate protesters hang banners at Finnieston Crane and City Chambers in Glasgow 

Climate change activists scaled the Finnieston Crane and hung banners at Glasgow City Chambers as part of nationwide protests.

Today, members of Extinction Rebellion Scotland climbed the crane and hung a banner reading ‘science not silence’, at Pacific Quay. Police arrived at the site at around 7am and removed the campaigners, although no arrests were made.

The action is part of an international week of protests calling for governments and councils around the world to declare a climate emergency. Protests are also expected in Edinburgh and London at Parliament Square this morning. 

Four climate change protesters from Extinction Rebellion climb the Finnieston Crane in Glasgow today as part of the demonstrations

Members of Extinction Rebellion Scotland climbed the crane and hung a banner reading ‘science not silence’, at Pacific Quay today

Police arrived at the site in Glasgow at around 7am today and removed the campaigners, although no arrests were made

Explaining the reasons for protesting, one Extinction Rebellion member said: ‘We are just ordinary citizens and we want the council to act responsibly and save us from this accelerating disaster which may lead to serious flooding and food shortages in Scotland and across the world.

’27 other UK councils have declared a climate emergency. Why hasn’t Glasgow?’

In January this year, around 40 Extinction Rebellion activists occupied the debating chamber at the Scottish Parliament, staging an hour-long sit-in.

Daryl Tayar, another member of Extinction Rebellion, added: ‘I’m sure Robert Burns would’ve been happy to wear such a symbol – his poetry shows just how much he loved the environment and of course how radical his politics were. 

The action is part of a global week of protests calling for governments and councils around the world to declare a climate emergency

Climate change activists scaled the Finnieston Crane and hung banners at Glasgow City Chambers as part of nationwide protests

The group climbed the structure using ropes at 5am and stayed on the structure until they were met by police and fire crews

‘He said it himself: ‘I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion has broken Nature’s social union’. If he were alive today, he’d be asking the City Council to declare a climate emergency urgently.’

Glasgow City Councillor Anna Richardson said: ‘There can be no doubt that Glasgow, along with the rest of the world, is facing a climate emergency.

‘The enormous challenge created by climate change is exactly why the council has set up a working group and asked for recommendations on the way forward. I have already made the commitment that I will act on these recommendations.

‘Members of Extinction Rebellion are part of our Climate Emergency Working Group. This gives them a real opportunity to contribute constructively to the debate on carbon reduction and influence what Glasgow does in the face of a global threat. 

Members of Extinction Rebellion Scotland had hung a banner reading ‘science not silence’, at Pacific Quay

Police and fire crews meet the protesters from Extinction Rebellion who climbed the Finnieston Crane in Glasgow today

‘Unfortunately, after their previous protest, precious time, money and resources were wasted when staff had to remove 80 metres of graffiti which had been daubed on roads and pavements outside the city chambers.’

Scottish Greens climate spokesman Mark Ruskell MSP said: ‘It’s great to see citizen action highlighting the threat posed by climate breakdown.

‘Unfortunately, every other party voted against our proposal to declare a climate emergency last month in the Scottish Parliament. Only the Greens are willing to take the necessary action to tackle the climate crisis.

‘The people of Scotland will soon have the opportunity to demonstrate their commitment to taking the bold and urgent action required to tackle the climate emergency by electing Scotland’s first Green MEP.’  

Who’s ready to get arrested? Undercover with the eco-activist group Extinction Rebellion who plan to bring London to a halt on Monday – and are as ruthlessly professional as they are deluded

By HOLLY BANCROFT FOR THE MAIL ON SUNDAY 

Cigarette break: XR training volunteer Clare Farrell

I’m sitting in a cavernous community hall in East London with a group of eco-activists huddled in thick jackets against the cold.

We’re being drilled for our arrest – like soldiers being trained for capture and interrogation by the enemy.

Our tutor is a sixtysomething woman with fuzzy white hair who knows all about civil disobedience and its legal consequences.

She explains passionately that we must not speak to the police, other than to give our name and date of birth.

We must not get drunk before the ‘action’ in just a few days’ time.

And we should consider wearing adult nappies – in case we’re locked up for hours in a police van with no access to a lavatory. Or if we decide to chain ourselves to railings, barriers or whatever else to cause maximum disruption.

Welcome to Extinction Rebellion (XR), the revolutionary protest group hell-bent on eliminating fossil fuels from Britain.

To achieve this, they are planning an onslaught of civil disobedience on a scale rarely seen in this country. And I’m here undercover as a new recruit, or ‘rebel’ as they call it.

My induction took place late last month in an anonymous office block near Euston station. I’m told XR was given the space for free by a well-placed sympathiser.

A lift takes me to the fourth floor – an open-plan space with a smattering of desks and some 40 new recruits, an even mix of male and female, all casually dressed.

A handmade poster by the lifts is daubed ‘Eco not Ego’. A large sign warns us to avoid ‘suppression juice’ – that’s alcohol – so we can ‘rebel with a clear body and mind’. Brightly coloured banners hang from the ceiling – ‘No Brexit in a dead planet’, says one – while a giant papier-mâché skeleton of some big beast lies, under construction, in the corner.

This introductory meeting is led by a bearded XR activist called Greg, who lives in a squat in West London with other members of the group. His first move is to lead us in an awkward ‘ice breaker’. Sitting in rows on school chairs, we’re instructed to stick both arms in the air and waggle from side to side, chanting ‘woo-hoo’.

Then comes a minute’s silence for ‘the dying planet’. Struggling not to laugh, I bowed my head with the others, eyes down.

‘Devote some of your brain to imagining the kind of world you want to create,’ says Greg. ‘To get through this struggle together, we need to hold tight to our dream.’

We’re asked to think of one word to describe the world we want – and shouts of ‘harmony’, ‘sharing’ and ‘green’ come from around the room. ‘Courageous’, mutters a boy in a long beige trench coat sitting next to me. 

Questions follow. The volunteers are keen, but concerned. 

A charity worker with short blonde hair says she is worried about XR’s policy of deliberately getting arrested.

Not that she’s against breaking the law – just that it might deter volunteers who cannot take the risk of getting into trouble.

Eating her dinner from a Tupperware box, another young woman raises concerns about XR’s links to Labour’s hard-Left Momentum faction. George agrees XR and Momentum have a good relationship.

Preparing for action: A photo of an XR meeting taken by our undercover reporter. There is no suggestion those pictured are all intending to break the law

Then we are told to get in a long line, arranged in order of willingness to get arrested. It is time to hone our tactics and strategy for the forthcoming ‘rebellion week’ – which starts tomorrow.

‘Move around the room according to what you feel,’ says Naomi, one of the lead activists.

‘The question is this: how arrestable are you in XR?’

A handful immediately place themselves at one end of the room, the extreme that signifies: ‘Yes, I really wish to be arrested right now.’ A few walk to the opposite side, meaning: ‘Absolutely not.’

I’m with the majority shuffling around in the middle amid embarrassed laughter. This position says: ‘Maybe, let’s think about it.’

They ask us how far we’ll go. Will we commit a litany of protest crimes – smashing windows, defacing buildings? Will we glue ourselves to doors or block roads using ‘swarming’ – sitting down for a few minutes at a time to stop traffic?

‘I’m comfortable with spray paint that permanently damages but not breaking windows,’ states a woman in her 30s from a refugee charity.

‘I’m somewhere between the permanent spray paint and the chalk spray paint,’ says a man studying for a PhD in environmental activism. ‘They can’t charge you with criminal damage if you use chalk paint.’

‘Training session’: XR potential recruits Greg, left, and George

After an hour or so, we’re all split up into what they call ‘affinity’ groups based on how radical they judge us to be. They don’t seem to think I’m very revolutionary.

Roles are assigned for the forthcoming ‘action’. Our group has a ‘wellbeing co-ordinator’, a ‘legal observer’ and a ‘media organiser’.

Middle-class zealots who’ll make Monday a misery for millions 

The most prominent – and radical – of the XR leaders is failed organic farmer and PhD student Roger Hallam

Failed farmer wants a world revolution 

The most prominent – and radical – of the XR leaders is failed organic farmer and PhD student Roger Hallam.

After years in a succession of Left-wing groups, the 52-year-old says the ‘name of the game’ for XR is to ‘bring down all the regimes in the world and replace them’. Hallam (above) says paralysing traffic will eventually cause food shortages and trigger uprisings.

In a recent interview, he said XR protesters should be ready to cause disruption through personal ‘sacrifice’. If necessary, they ‘should be willing to die’.

XR co-founder Stuart Basden, 36, a middle-class writer from Bristol

Co-founder says jail’s like boarding school 

XR co-founder Stuart Basden, 36, a middle-class writer from Bristol (above), has goals that go way beyond a desire to curb global warming.

Indeed, he has claimed: ‘XR isn’t about the climate. You see, the climate’s breakdown is a symptom of a toxic system that has infected the ways we relate to each other as humans and to all life.’

Basden has urged XR followers to embrace going to prison – where he spent a week after defacing London’s City Hall with spray paint last year – saying it is ‘a bit like boarding school’

Tasmin Osmond, 35, is a veteran of ‘direct actions’

Veteran campaigner from baronet family 

Tasmin Osmond, 35, is a veteran of ‘direct actions’ which had little to do with climate change, such as Occupy London, the poverty protest which set up a camp outside St Paul’s cathedral in 2011.

The granddaughter of Dorset baronet Sir Thomas Lees, Omond (above) went to Westminster School and Trinity College, Cambridge, where she read English.

She was thrown out of anti-aviation group Plane Stupid after saying the green movement ‘brand’ was ‘unwashed, unshaven and up a tree’, and this ‘doesn’t represent me’.

George Barda, 43, believes the ‘Criminal UK Government’ is to blame for climate change

Student who’s on Putin’s TV channel 

George Barda, 43, believes the ‘Criminal UK Government’ is to blame for climate change.

A post-graduate student at prestigious King’s College in London, the son of classical music and stage photographer Clive Barda still finds time to be a dedicated revolutionary and camped outside St Paul’s cathedral in the Occupy London campaign.

Today, Barda (above) is a director of XR parent company Compassionate Revolution and regularly appears on Russia Today, Russia’s controversial British TV channel.

How far would we go for the movement? A Scottish actress in her 20s tells us she’s planning to recruit her mother. ‘I think I’d be OK with being arrested,’ she adds. ‘It’s just that I’m so in and out of the country, I work between here and Paris. I don’t know if I would be able to make my court date, so I don’t know if it would work out.’

Another young woman, a university student, says she’ll bring her harp along to keep us entertained during ‘rebellion week’. Before the meeting breaks up, the organisers call for mature women willing to be trained as ‘de-escalators’.

These are the people asked to calm down frustrated members of the public, particularly drivers, trapped in the traffic jams we’re going to cause.

Then the evening comes to a conclusion with repeated chants of ‘Extinction… Rebellion’ from the hardened activists, who then treat us to an impromptu and utterly excruciating dance.

A beat box starts blaring, one long-haired man sways expansively, arms waving out of time, the others jig about. I leave, armed with XR stickers and posters to plaster on the streets.

The group gives me constant updates through the WhatsApp messaging system, and a few days later I’m back in the office block for another training session. This time, it’s altogether more alarming.

An activist in her 20s called Jess lays out XR’s terrifying vision of the future: ‘We want to build a structure, a community and test prototypes for the coming structural collapse of the regimes of Western democracies. And we see this as inevitable – this has to happen.’

Now, we’re drawn further into the plans for illegal protest, and made to take part in role-play scenarios of activists clashing with the police.

The golden rule is to stay silent when confronted by police – unless we quote from a self-righteous prepared statement outlining our supposed right to break the law as a ‘conscientious protector’ of Planet Earth.

And we must never, ever identify any of the XR organisers in case they are charged with inciting illegal activities.

Activists who plan to ‘lock on’ by super-gluing themselves to public property are warned to expect a long wait, as few police officers are trained to dissolve the glue.

The hope is to cause the maximum amount of chaos. They might even have activists locked on at five separate protest points in London. If we are seized by the police, we must make our bodies go floppy, to tie up more officers as they attempt to carry us away.

I endure a further marathon training session at a climbing centre in North London.

We’re being addressed by the white-haired lady, who I now know is press officer Jayne Forbes. Stating her own readiness for martyrdom and jail, she tells us that: ‘I’m an older person with no responsibilities.

‘I’m prepared to go to prison and I think we are privileged in this country to have prisons that are relatively acceptable.

‘If I was living in Brazil or something, I could get killed as an activist. Our prisons are not bad compared to many in the world.’

She tells us never to agree to a caution because that would be ‘an admission of guilt’.

We must never accept the help of a duty solicitor because they would be ‘pally with the police’. I’m learning a great deal.

We’re advised only to bring an old-fashioned ‘burner’ mobile phone to the protest in case the police want to seize the device as evidence.

I’m told a paperback will help me while away the long hours in a police cell – and that I can ask for up to three blankets from the custody officers.

I now have a list of ‘friendly’ solicitors on a small sheet of paper reminding me of my legal rights. Can we get vegan food in prison? XR thinks the answer is ‘yes’.

By the time I say my goodbyes, I’m truly worried. If this week goes according to plan for Extinction Rebellion, I know that many of its members will be only too delighted to learn first-hand about the inside of our police cells and our prisons – believing they have come one step closer to making their dangerous plan a reality.

DOMINIC LAWSON: Deluded middle-class climate warriors can’t see the real danger of their bright idea 

 Claire Perry said her encounter with this (until now) obscure group had been ‘good and productive’

Getting to see a government minister isn’t easy. I’d challenge any reader to see how long it takes to persuade the civil servants manning the bureaucratic barricades to let you bend a minister’s ear about whatever concerns you.

Yet somehow they found a space in the diary for a group called Extinction Rebellion (XR) to lobby the Minister of State for Energy, Claire Perry.

Ms Perry told the Mail on Sunday that her encounter with this (until now) obscure group had been ‘good and productive’.

Really? Extinction Rebellion is this week launching mass protests designed to shut down or obstruct transport links, causing (more) misery to commuters and business. If that’s the result of ‘productive’ talks, I wonder what would happen if they had gone badly.

But making Britain hell for business (and anyone who drives a car) is what Extinction Rebellion stands for. As the Energy Minister must know, its mission is to ‘save the planet’ by eliminating Britain’s CO2 emissions entirely by 2025.

Brutish

Or in other words, to reduce us to a state of mere subsistence, last seen in the pre-industrial age when life was (for the great majority) nasty, brutish and short.

As if to emphasise the primitiveness to which they wish us to return, this is the group which on April Fool’s Day performed a naked protest in the public gallery of the House of Commons.

Actually, this is the only way people with such views could take part (so to speak) in parliamentary debate. Because any party which tried to get MPs elected on a policy of mass immiseration would not win a single seat. There might be some thousands of middle-class students and drop-outs sufficiently aesthetically offended by mass consumerism to vote for such a manifesto, but that would be it.

This is the group which on April Fool’s Day performed a naked protest in the public gallery of the House of Commons

Unsurprisingly, the leaders of this movement tend to come from well-to-do homes, which have never experienced scarcity or privation. 

The figures behind the demonstrations planned for this week include Tamsin Omond, granddaughter of the Dorset baronet Sir Thomas Lees

The figures behind the demonstrations planned for this week include Tamsin Omond, granddaughter of the Dorset baronet Sir Thomas Lees; Stuart Basden (who said his week in prison after an earlier action was ‘a bit like boarding school’); and George Barda, son of the distinguished stage and music photographer Clive Barda OBE FRSA and a 43-year-old postgraduate student at King’s College London.

I am distantly related to one of the inspirations for this movement, the environmentalist author and journalist George Monbiot (we are both scions of the family which created the J Lyons catering and food manufacturing empire). Monbiot is anything but a hypocrite. He leads the life he preaches to others: he doesn’t own a car, never flies and, so far as I know, survives on a purely plant-based diet.

Last week, Monbiot appeared on Frankie Boyle’s television show, New World Order, and was cheered by the youthful audience when he demanded action to end economic growth, adding that this meant ‘we’ve got to go straight to the heart of capitalism and overthrow it’.

Monbiot has been consistent in this: in 2007 he wrote an article for the Guardian welcoming the prospect of a recession, even though, as he acknowledged, ‘it would cause some people to lose their jobs and homes’. (He got his wish: it turned out not to be popular).

But if it’s the planet you want to save, and you believe its very existence is threatened by excessive emissions of CO2, then what happens in this country is almost beside the point. The UK contributes little more than one per cent of global CO2 emissions. Even if the inhabitants of these islands were reduced by an environmentalist version of the Cambodian dictator Pol Pot to a state of pre-industrial and self-sufficient subsistence farming — no wicked imports of food via boat or plane — it would have a minuscule effect on the planet’s future.

In fact, the UK — chiefly through the steady closure of the domestic coal industry — has been in the vanguard of reducing CO2 emissions: in 2018, our emissions were at their lowest levels in 120 years.

Activists from Extinction Rebellion block off a road at Parliament Square, London, during a protest in October last year

The group yesterday set up camp in London’s Hyde park ahead of plans to cause widespread disruption across London later

It’s not British politicians that groups such as Extinction Rebellion should be haranguing and demonstrating against, but those in the People’s Republic of China. That is the nation responsible for 60 per cent of the growth in global CO2 emissions over the past decade.

And China is currently building almost 260 gigawatts of new coal-fired power generating capacity — in itself almost the size of the entire U.S. coal-fired capacity.

The trouble is the Chinese state would treat rather robustly any Extinction Rebellion activists who attempted to demonstrate on its busiest streets, or to mount a naked protest in the Great Hall of the People in Beijing. I don’t recommend they try that.

Plunder

Nor should we be so critical of the Chinese. They, as we in the West did before them, are using cheap energy wrenched from the Earth’s resources to escape from lives of almost unimaginable poverty. And it was economic growth which ultimately created the circumstances in which peace rather than conflict became the normal state of human affairs: nations could prosper and enrich themselves through trade rather than the plunder of neighbours in a zero-sum world.

If the likes of Extinction Rebellion were to get their way, it is something like that bleak past which would be revisited upon us. And the political forces emerging from that would be truly terrifying.

If she is still in the habit of seeking their opinions, Claire Perry might point that out to the delusional middle-class climate warriors.

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