#otherwise they’d just have dot eyes of some sort

[fruityfroggy]

Well…I got busy and procrastinated for way too long on this project. So I’m just going to share the two that I’ve actually finished for now.

The Touchstarved main 5 as weird little creatures (part 1)

(cuz I can’t draw people and this is the closest I’ll get to drawing fanart of them TwT)

TW: slight gore (it’s just seaspring water that makes it look kinda bloody, but still)

These designs are based off of/inspired by their beast form silhouettes, as well as having their motifs and items that symbolize/relate to them incorporated (tho some of them just have stuff that I thought symbolized how they feel maybe)

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 12 - Remember

Parts 1-11 here

So… we finally find out what happened on the roof. Sort of… *cough* sorry Johnny… and Virg… and Jeff. And Scott who I presume is on the receiving end of some version of this account from John…

🧡💚💙🧡💚💙🧡💚🧡💚💙🧡💚🧡💙🧡

He’d done what he was asked. The kids were “kept out of the way” even if they were yelling and crying and rattling pointlessly at the door handle he’d wedged the chair under. He felt awful about it but they had to be safe, not see anything… worrying. Anything that could cause them more problems than they already had. But he couldn’t just stay and babysit when everything might be going wrong. Dad might need help.

John should have seen this was coming. He should have paid more attention. He should have stopped it. He should have been less selfish. Pressing his knuckles into the spaces between his nose and his eyeballs he swallowed hard then raised his voice above the yelling, told Gordon and Alan he’d be back in just a minute. Then with suddenly trembling limbs followed his father up the fold down ladder to the flat part of the roof they used for stargazing.

The sky was cloudless, the sun had just set and blue hour was upon them, the iron oxide-soaked sandstone gleaming as red as any of Dad’s Martian landscape images. Here, in the lee of the dormer there was a dead calm, as if the wind was anxiously holding its breath in the same way John was. His father, about 5 feet above him was edging carefully across the ridge towards where the peaked roof of John’s third storey attic room loomed over the rest of the ranch. Dad looked back over his shoulder and frowned, silently demanding silence.

John complied. His throat had seized up anyway. As had pretty much every nerve in his body the moment as his eyes drifted past his father’s clambering form to the figure standing tall at the highest point of the roof. He clung to the railing at the top of the stairs and prayed to anyone that would listen that this wasn’t what it looked like.

Virgil was stood at the highest point of the roof, one hand resting atop the chimney stack, the other gesticulating as if he was engaged in a passionate debate. His posture was so familiar, the unstyled hair hanging in his face, less so. He couldn’t hear exactly what his brother was saying but his tone was friendly, good humoured even. Which, given the circumstances, was downright eerie.

A solitary bird of prey wailed impatiently as it hovered overhead. Peregrine, probably, John realised with a pang. Scott would point them out as they passed through every spring and every fall. He remembered the otherwise ‘so much more grown up than you lot’ fourteen year old bouncing gleefully around the yard the day they’d seen a female stoop on a pigeon right overhead. Every Tracy knew, because he reminded them often, that that was the fastest any living creature could travel under its own steam, although Scott was determined to break that record one day.

John was aware it should probably be ‘had been’ but was not in any way ready to make that shift. Not in any way at all. He swallowed hard at the lump threatening to close up his throat and returned his attention to his next biggest brother. He edged slightly closer as Dad finally reached Virgil and held out a hand.

Virgil didn’t take it.

More wailing from above, multiple voices this time. John, unable to resist glancing up at the sound, counted a group of four hastening through the sky towards the lone dot in the distance which he imagined wheeling back around at the cries of waaaaaaait-waaaaaait. Scott’s reverent voice reminded him that these birds travelled alone except for newly fledged siblings who would undertake their first big migration together for protection and moral support.

“YOU’RE UNBELIEVABLE!”

Virgil’s raised voice dragged John’s attention back - how had he lost concentration? What had he missed? His father was talking in a low voice, but John detected an edge he could quite place? He was… uncertain? That wasn’t like Dad at all. To hell with it, he had to get over there. He abandoned stealth and scrambled along the roof until the frustrated pain in his brother’s shout stopped him in his tracks.

“WHY WON’T YOU LET ME HELP HIM?!”

Virgil’s back was to his father and he flinched away as Dad reached out to touch his shoulder.

“HE’S GONE, VIRGIL! THIS IS JUST… A… A FANTASY…! YOU HAVE TO COME DOWN! Please…”

His father’s voice was finally raised but then cracked, agonisingly, on that last word and Virgil spun to face him, fury in his eyes.

Time slowed. John felt tension thicken the air, as potent as the moment before a storm breaks and it resolved in much the same way: With a roar of anger and a strike of pent up energy from Virgil’s muscular arm.

Dad crumpled to his knees and leant heavily against the chimney breast. There was absolute silence. John tore his eyes from his father to gape up at his strongest yet most determinedly non-violent brother, in time to see the horrified expression on Virgil’s face, staring at his own clenched fist as though it belonged to someone else entirely. He looked around in a panic and began to shuffle backwards away from his father, more like a small, frightened animal about to bolt than the broad, reassuring presence John knew him to be.

John was moving before his mind even registered the implications. Of course he was too slow, he should have been there to start with. He called out to try to warn him but only succeeded in causing his brother’s eyes to lock on to his for the split second before they widened further and he disappeared from view.

🧡💚💙🧡💚💙🧡💚🧡💚💙🧡💚🧡💙🧡

[searchingforatrail]

Title: Ares and the Scars that Make Him Summary: Dorothy tends to Megatron's wound following his torment under Mandroid. It gives him an opportunity reflect on the fact that some humans are worth fighting for, and that he is still worthy of love. No matter how undeserving he beliefs himself to be.

[original ao3]~~[twitter]

“On the ground, Megs. Where I can reach you.” Dot instructed as she shuffled with her power tools, surveying the wound as best she could from where she stood, “We need to get that fixed before it leaks more energon.”

The old war lord complied, his frame groaning beneath the pressure as he articulated himself onto the ground. Living metal croaked through the movement, and protested at the unnatural vulnerability of the position. It had only been hours ago that he’d been strapped to a cold metal table, defenseless and flat on his back.

Dorothy leaned a wooden ladder against his uninjured side and proceed to crawl onto his chassis.

He willed his battle protocols to go offline, and fought the instinctual warming of his canon. His processor knew the human currently crawling over him was a friend, but his body told him otherwise. Usually he had control over himself, but this ..this was different.

Whether or not she noticed it, Dorothy did not say.

She simply hauled the remainder of her power tools onto his chassis, sorting through them and smiling when she found what she needed. It was a propane torch. How ironic.  She steadied the propane torch just above the deep gash. Megatron made it a point not to look. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dorothy with patching him up, but his latest ordeal with humans and medical equipment had made him squeamish. He clenched his servos, fully expecting to feel the searing pain he’d been subjected to earlier. Yet he was met with a numbness where agony should have been.

Oh, yes, Alex had turned off his pain receptors for him, hadn’t he? When they’d dragged him to the Malto farm after he’d refused  G.H.O.S.T medical attention. How did he forget that?

“Ready, Megs?” Dorothy asked, flipping the welding mask over her eyes, igniting the flame. Megatron responded with a slow nod, “Tell me when you want me to stop, okay?” He fought the urge to scoff. He wasn’t going to break under pressure, he hadn’t before and he wouldn’t now. And yet she had been concerned. Of course she would be. She was there too. He suddenly felt stupid. Dorothy did not think he was weak. She was just concerned.

“I will.” He responded dryly,

She bore the flame upon his frame. He dampened the audial nearest to her, instead listening to the array of sound happening around him.

The cows in the pasture. The sound of shouting humans, jovial cries of cheer and excitement. By Megatron's count, there were three more sparkl–Terrans added to the original two, in addition to Dot’s existing fleshing children.

" I heard what you said to Optimus after the fight," Dot managed through her deep concentration, "about bearing the scars."

He was surprised he’d even heard Dortohy’s words given his dampened audial.

Megatron raised his helm, catching Dorothy in the eyes. Or at least attempted to. While the welding mask was lifted, she didn’t exactly look at him. He felt his spark ache. She was hurt.

"I didn't know human hearing was so sensitive." It went unspoken, but the I ever intended for you to hear that was as clear as if he'd said it aloud.

"There's surprisingly a lot you still don't know about us," Dorothy mused, pulling back and admiring the metal seal over Megatron's injury, "like how much we care about our family. That includes you, Megs."

Megatron brought two servos to the scar, vents catching as he brushed against the metal.  The old mech squeezed his optics closed, and exvented. It would leave a mark, a deep one. But the worst of it had been welded and fixed.

He extended a servos, allowing her to climb onto his palm and gently placing she and her tools on the ground.

"I…I am trying to understand Dorothy. Your kindness has been invaluable to me." He adjusted himself, and let his back rest against the barn wall. This place was beautiful, clearly remodeled to be a permanent home for the Terrans Dorothy loved so much.  

He looked at the bizarre string lights that hung like earth ivy, draping over the small table full of toys, wooden carvings, and items belonging to all of her children.

Each Terran had their own designated corner in the barn, each adorned with accents unique to them. Nothing like the barren quarters G.H.O.S.T had provided him, nothing like the cold, merciless room he had on the Nemesis.

This was warm. This was full of love. Dorothy and Alex's love. Love that threatened to ensnare him. Just like Optimus's.

And Megatron was undeserving and scared.

He felt himself shifting uneasily underneath Dorothy’s gaze, as if his silence was admission to the thoughts locked deep in his processor. Dorothy has a way of unraveling his emotions like a piece of wire in a tangled set. When she pulled at him, it was near impossible to gather himself together. That’s why he was here in the first place.  He wondered if humans were secretly telepathic.

"You don't act like it, Megs. I know things aren't easy for you, but you're not alone."  She said, sadly, “We worry about you, you know. The kids love you, and I do too. If anything ever happened to you..”

Dorothy looked away, extending them both a small reprieve.

"Do you…talk to Optimus?"

And she took it away immediately, twisting a knife in his spark. Optimus and his inability to empathize with any of Megatron's grievances was not a subject he wanted to breach.

And yet.

"I would have more luck speaking to a wall," he mused dryly, "his blinding optimism continues to be the wedge in our relationship. And he was not always like this. It is…concerning.”

Dorothy drew her lips together tightly, arms crossed as she considered his words.  If there was anyone who knew of his complicated relationship with the Leader of the Autobots, it was Dorothy. And perhaps Alex, but just by proxy *.

To his relief Dorothy did not pry.

“Come over for dinner then? At least once a month?” She tried, gently kicking his pede, “stop going at this alone.”

In the past she would have suggested he speak to his old comrades, visit them in prison at least. But they’d both learned the hard way that he was not welcome there.

“I will take you up on that offer.” Megatron muttered, standing to full height. He online his pain receptors, astounded by how little the injury hurt, “And thank you, for everything.”

“Of course, and Megatron. Please remember, people love you. Okay. People who would be very upset if anything happened to you,” she reminded as she headed towards the large doors, “feel free to stay in the barn if you want. The kids will love to see you when they’re back from their game.”

Megatron’s gaze followed her as she left. He was glad she granted him the small mercy of not forcing him to stay for dinner, but knew it would come eventually. His frame ached to transform and take flight into the air, to leave this place and its love behind. But he stopped, sliding back down against the barn wall. His Decepticons might hate him, and Optimus may be an enigma, but he still had this.

And no matter how undeserving he believed he was, it was undeniably his.

[officialscaramouche]

ayo feel like doing a gorou confession fic for me? pretty please with sprinkles on top (you know that fucking tiktok)

Ofc Pizzato anything for u my dear 🥰

Pairing: Gorou x gn!reader

Warnings: slight angst

Word count: 1,969

You heard a couple friendly knocks on your office door, eyes glancing to the clock to see it was a little past noon and you knew exactly who it was. “Come in,” you chime, putting down your pen and stretching upwards with a smile.

“Helloooooo!” You hear as the door swung open, Kazuha flaunting an envelope between his fingers. “Letter time!”

You sweep to your feet and give him grabby hands. “Give it to me!” He chuckles and places the thin paper into your hands. “Tell me who it is already,” you giggle as you rip it open and slide the letter out.

“No,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I keep my promises.”

You quirk and eyebrow before you fold open the letter. “Even if I bribe you with dango?”

Kazuha smiles. “Even if you bribe me with dango.”

You grunt and groan but it quickly stops when you unfold the letter, reading the contents.

Good afternoon, cupcake, it starts. You blush at the pet name. I hope your day is going as well as mine. I’ve just won the office lottery! I’m going to ask for more snacks in the break room. That way, everyone benefits too! Specifically though, I want more sakura mochi! The ones you made for us were delicious. Share your recipe? :3

I adore you, your secret admirer.

You squeeze the letter to your chest and squeal, your face warm from blushing and your heart pounding against your chest. “Oh, Kazuha, whoever this person is, I really wish they’d come up and confess!”

Kazuha tuts and wiggles his finger. “But then the mystery wouldn’t be there anymore.”

“Screw mystery!” You squealed, gazing down at the illegible and scratchy handwriting, the mysterious stains and fur all over the page. “I’m ready to hear these words in person.”

Just then there was a knock on your door and a quick turn of the knob, one of the top brass leaning against your door frame. “Good morning, Chatty Cathy’s,” sang a familiar voice and ear twitches.

You wave while Kazuha bows, hiding the letter behind your back. “Good morning, General Gorou.”

The tail behind his back wagged discreetly as the two men share a knowing glance. “Kazuha,” the general clears his throat. “May I speak with you?”

The samurai nods his head and gives you a little wave as he walks out the door. “Bye boys!” You sing, tucking the letter back into the envelope and putting it away.

The next day, as routine, a little past noon you heard three friendly knocks on your door. You excitedly put your pen down, closing your ledger and standing out of your chair and onto your feet. “Kazuha,” you grinned. “Come in!”

He pushed the door open with his back, lugging a big box with some plastic sticking out from the top. “I’m just a mule to you guys aren’t I?” He groaned, lifting the box up and onto your desk. “This is ridiculous.”

You stood on your tippy toes to try and peek inside the box without being obnoxious. “What is it?” You hum, getting more and more restless.

“Your letter, what else?” He kind of snapped, letting out a deep sigh and rolling his eyes. “I wish he’d confess too. That way I don’t have to carry these things.”

You pulled back the top of the box that was just out of your reach. “Here,” pushing your hands away, Kazuha tore the box apart to expose a giant basket full of goodies and flowers. “The letter.”

Kazuha snapped the taped-on letter from the plastic and handed it to you. Wasting no time at all, you rip the envelope open and unfold the letter.

Dearest [Y/N], you’ve pierced my heart like an arrow through a target and I simply cannot get you off my mind. I heard from the grapevine that you wish for my confession. …Maybe I shall do so in the near future? It’s not that I do not want to be yours, but rather that you make me quite nervous. Still, we see each other for terribly brief moments but these moments are the most precious to me. Hopefully I can muster up the courage to finally tell you how I feel. In the meantime, please accept these treats and toys imported from across the globe. My favorite are the dog-shaped biscuits.

Your shy admirer.

Looking up from the letter you find Kazuha stuffing his face with some chocolatey cookies from within a tin box labeled ‘Fontaine.’ “Are those good?” You ask, reaching in and stealing one.

“Mhm,” Kazuha hums, taking a bite out of the one in his hand. “I’ve never had Fontaine chocolate. I guess the rumors about being the best were true.”

You melt under the sweet taste and crunchy texture, thinking that if your crush’s letters had a taste, it would be like this. “This is so nice,” you sigh, eyes sparkling as they gaze upon the basket. “Do you think he’s going to confess to me?”

Kazuha stares out the windows of your office that peer into the rest of the building, watching a certain general spill water on himself and the resistance leader. He takes another bite of a cookie. “Maybe.”

You squeal in delight and spin around in joy. “My heart’s beating so fast! I hope he does it soon or I’ll explode!”

Kazuha chuckles and playfully shoves you aside. “If you explode, I’m eating all of your snacks.”

“No! They’re mine!”

Weeks— almost a month— go by with no further letters. Kazuha stopped coming by, whether at noon or otherwise. The only knocks you got were visits from Kokomi about the budget or from other soldiers carrying reports and receipts from spending. Your heart ached at the sudden lack of contact, wondering if you had done or said something wrong.

Maybe your eagerness was intimidating and this mystery man just wanted someone to flirt with without commitment. Maybe he got bored of you. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Regardless, you wanted to try and spark it back up in case you’ve stepped on some toes without realizing. That night when you got home, you tossed the ingredients for sakura mochi into a bowl and got to mixing.

The office ate everything you brought before lunchtime rolled around. With such great success, you had confidence that he’d reach out to you tomorrow, if not today.

But alas you were left in silence once more, leaving your heart to crumble and ache. You were quick to recover, considering you never met the guy— let alone knew his name. But you had no time to be worrying anyway, because in a couple of days one of the squads were returning from the front lines and you needed to factor in medical costs. Apparently they took a hard hit when Sara Kujou showed up with her samurai. Kokomi was depending on you, and you didn’t want to let her down.

You spend these few days really crunching the numbers, making sure that every wounded soldier would get the basic medical necessities with some left over for any miscalculations. With every i dotted and every t crossed, you stuffed your report into a fancy envelope and handed it to Kokomi. “Thank you [Y/N] for your hard work under such a sudden timetable.” She thanked, tucking the envelope under her arm. “The team should be arriving tomorrow, so I will be submitting this for review immediately.”

You bow respectfully and offer your thanks for praise. “It’s no problem at all, Her Excellency. I was given ample time to prepare the balance sheet.” You begin to turn when you’re stopped once again by her.

“Before you go,” she smiles softly. “Would you mind helping out at the infirmary? We’re short handed right now with the sudden intake of Delusions.”

“Of course, Her Excellency. I will be there whenever you need me.”

You weren’t specialized in medics but you had helped around often enough to know the basics. And anyone could become a master at immediate medical attention after doing it so many times.

The flood of gurneys was a little disheartening to see, but you were still thankful for all that they do for the greater of the country. It must be scary being at the front lines, but everyone knew what they were signing up for.

You catch sight of Genera Gorou and Lord Kazuha chatting with Lady Kokomi before you were assigned to a batch of wounded soldiers, feeling a little bad for harboring ill feelings toward the young lord for disappearing. ‘You could’ve at least told me that you were leaving,’ you thought as you rinsed the injured area.

“I can take over from here,” the head medic stepped in, slipping on a new pair of gloves before getting a closer look at the soldier before you. With most of everyone patched up and recovering, the medic team was able to take control of the infirmary once again.

You wash your hands and check the clock. A little past noon. It’s funny how at this time you would’ve waited with bated breath for a couple of knocks. But not anymore.

You step out of the infirmary and find Kazuha and General Gorou sitting outside on the benches there. “Oh, hi boys,” you say surprised.

Kazuha grabs and shakes your hand. “Thank you for helping out our soldiers,” he says seriously.

“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal,” you mutter. “I do this all the time.”

A calloused hand pushes Kazuha’s away and shakes your hand firmer, harder. “No, [Y/N],” Gorou says with a sort of oomph behind his words. “These are my men…my family. They would be suffering if not for your help.”

You look to the side uncomfortably, a little put-off by the tension in the air. “And that’s why—!” Gorou continues, suddenly eight decibels louder. You hold eye contact with the general, his face darkening into a deep red flush, his eyes glassy and ears twitching. He squeezed your hand harder and shut his eyes. “M-My C-C-Cupcake!!! P-Please let m-me take you on a date!!!!”

Kazuha winced at the loudness of his friend, covering one of his ears but still smiling nonetheless. The people walking by stared and mumbled, but it didn’t matter as you felt your heart pound against your chest. You felt your eyes well with tears as now your face flushed red, the general cautiously opening his eyes to see your trembling lips and pathetic pout. “A-Ah! [Y/N], don’t cry!!”

You tug on his hand hard, pulling the man into your arms and squeezing him tight. You sobbed into his chest, hearing and feeling how frantic his heart was beating as well. “You idiot!” You shout into his battle-worn chest. “Don’t disappear without telling me…”

Gorou caressed the back of your head and chewed on his lip, his tail drooping with guilt but twitching with excitement for being in your arms. “Did I…scare you?” He whispered tentatively, choosing his words carefully.

You pull away and wipe your eyes, Gorou watching you closely and holding tightly onto your waist. “I thought you got tired of me…because I stopped hearing from you.” Gorou frowned and cupped your face, thumbing your cheeks gently. “I even made sakura mochi and I didn’t—”

“You made sakura mochi??!??!!! Is there any left?!?” Gorou’s jaw dropped. He let you go to turn and run to the break room, halting before running back to embrace you once more. “Heh, uh…” he chuckled nervously. “I’d actually…rather hold you like this…”

You couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your cheeks, flushing your body against his chest. “That’s okay,” you giggle. “There aren’t any left.”

You had no idea that his ears could flatten sadly like that.

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Joshua: Second Chance (Part Four)

Characters: Joshua x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, fluffy angst, Josh being a grumpy old man lmao

Word count: 2,042

Summary: After his mate died, Joshua always blamed himself and never wanted to imprint again. However, fate has other ideas when he meets you: a young, energetic werecoyote that’s quite the opposite of him. He insists he doesn’t want a new mate – nobody’s even sure if he’s ready for a new one – but he can’t ignore his instincts.

Previous | Next | Second Chance Masterlist

Because of how exhausted he was, Joshua was in and out of consciousness for a while. He couldn’t even keep track of days because he was sleeping at weird hours -- but it had really only been two days. He never stayed awake for very long -- the longest was always just to eat and go to the bathroom if he had to, and then go back to sleep -- but the first thing his eyes always found when he opened them was you.

You, however, weren’t asleep for nearly as long. You woke up again in the morning to see Joshua was still asleep -- you didn’t know he’d ever woken up. You still had a million questions bouncing around your head about who he was, what happened next, and the like, but you decided to just go with it until you found out. No point in panicking, right?

“You should be all set to go home today,” Minjee reported.

The wolfsbane was cleansed from your system -- mostly thanks to Joshua, otherwise your recovery would’ve been slower since you didn’t heal as quickly as the werewolves -- so all you really had to do was rest until your body fully recovered. But that was the same for Joshua, so it worked out. 

However, Minjee wasn’t sure what was happening when you were discharged. Would you go home with Joshua and his pack mates? Would he turn you away and have you go off on your own? Even Hansol and Kyung said they weren’t sure when Minjee had asked.

But you just nodded, not even having those thoughts cross your mind, “Okay.”

Minjee sat down on the edge of your bed and studied you, “Do you mind if I ask a few questions first?”

“Sure,” you shrugged without hesitation.

“What’s your name?”

“_____ _____.”

“And where are you from, _____?”

“The Capitol.”

Minjee’s eyebrows raised, “So you’re not too far from here, then. We’re in the Capitol -- southeast of the castle.”

Huh. You didn’t know that. That was at least convenient to be close to a familiar place. But the Capitol was huge.

“Do you have a pack or family?” Minjee continued.

You shook your head. You’d been on your own for a few years now.

“You’re alone?” she asked.

In the other room, Kyung and Hansol looked at each other. 

“So then why were you running around the forest at night, _____?” Minjee continued.

You shrugged, “Got bored.”

Minjee definitely thought you were...interesting. You were all by yourself, you were running through the woods in the dark for fun, and you still somehow didn’t seem fazed by any of it. And to top it all off, you still kept glancing over at Joshua and rubbing one thumb over his knuckles like you were already comfortable with him. He was a complete stranger to you, you hadn’t even spoken to him or seen him awake, but you didn’t seem to care. You weren’t even asking her questions like she expected. It was like you didn’t care about anything, you were just rolling with whatever came.

“Hey, Jee?” a girl opened the curtain and popped her head in. She had loose springy curls that were tied into two buns on her head, brown skin, dark freckles dotted over her cheeks and nose, and golden eyes that shifted over to you. Her eyes widened slightly for some reason before returning to Minjee. “Two of our other alphas are here. They want to know what’s happening with Joshua.”

“He’ll be good to go home when he wakes up,” she replied warmly with a nod. “He’ll definitely need the help home, though.”

The foreign girl turned her head, listening to what someone else was saying to her before turning back again, “Jihoon wants to talk to you.”

“Send them right in.”

The girl stepped aside to let two men through the white curtain -- you wondered if it was actually a bedsheet. One was short with light brown hair, and the other was taller with silver hair. The shorter one had an undercut with the rest of his hair looking a little wavy, while the taller one’s hair was fluffier and parted to the side. Like the girl, they both had golden eyes that seemed to study you curiously.

Jihoon and Seungcheol assumed you must’ve been the girl they’d heard about considering your cot was still beside Joshua’s, and your hand was wrapped around his. You didn’t react to their staring, just blinking back at them. But they took note of one physical difference that Soomin either forgot to mention or simply was unaware of: instead of gold eyes, your eyes were an icy blue. 

The taller one’s eyes moved over to the doctor, while the shorter one continued to blatantly stare at you. Of course, you stared back.

“Is he really well enough to come home already?” the taller boy wondered. “It’s only been two days.”

Minjee nodded, “Hansol has medicine he’ll have to take three times a day to help with pain and healing, and Joshua will have medicine to take every twelve hours. ______ will need medicine as well, but... Um, other than that, the two just need a lot of rest -- especially Joshua.”

“What about her?” the shorter one asked, nodding his head toward you.

Before Minjee could say anything, you opened your mouth, “What about me?”

Jihoon’s eyebrows raised in surprise, almost like he didn’t think you could or would talk, “...Sorry.”

“Can you guys keep it down?” a groggy, raspy voice asked beside you.

Your head whipped to the right as you felt Joshua’s fingers squeeze yours. He was rubbing one eye with his free hand and letting out a yawn before he blinked his eyes open and looked between the two alphas.

“He lives,” Seungcheol chuckled. “How do you feel, Shua?”

“Like shit,” he replied, draping his arm over his eyes.

The two alphas noticed Josh was keeping his hand in yours despite being awake. Their eyes flickered from your hands, to each other.

“What’re we talking about?” Josh asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Uh...well…” Seungcheol tried desperately to find the right words to ask what he planned to do about you, but he was too scared to bring you up to Josh. He didn’t want to upset him already.

Thankfully, Minjee spoke up, “I need to know what’s happening with _____.”

Hearing your name, you broke out of your trance of staring at Joshua now that he was finally awake, and looked at the doctor.

Joshua tore his arm away from his eyes and lifted his head slightly to narrow his eyes at Minjee, “Who?”

She gestured to you, “Your mate.”

Hearing the title made him growl lowly in his chest as he slowly turned to look at you. Despite the aggressive noise, you could hear his heartbeat pick up when his eyes landed on you. It was also the first time he was seeing you awake, and deep down, it felt amazing to see you actually alive and well.

However, he still managed to tear his hand away from yours.

“She’s not coming home with us,” he scoffed. “She’s not my problem.”

“Josh--”

“Jihoon, you can’t tell me what to do,” he cut off the alpha. “I’ll do perfectly fine on my own, thank you. I don’t want or need another mate.”

However, everyone was surprised to see that you weren’t speaking up. They looked at you and found that you didn’t even seem bothered by Joshua’s words or actions. You had lifted your now empty hand closer to your face, looking at it as if you’d see traces of Joshua or something. But your expression was neutral before you looked up at Josh and shrugged.

“Alright.”

Seungcheol blinked, “A-- Alright?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged again. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It kind of is…” Jihoon said like you were stupid.

Hey, maybe you were. You didn’t know how any of this worked. You didn’t even fully grasp what was going on.

“It’s a good thing you’re braindead, I guess,” Joshua snorted under his breath before laying his head back down. 

“We’ll just...take him home now,” Seungcheol told Minjee awkwardly, bowing his head slightly in a silent apology.

“I’ll go get their medications,” the doctor replied as she stood. “You can get Hansol and Joshua ready to be discharged.”

The curtain was pushed aside so the two patients could now interact. Seungcheol and Kyung were going to have to help support Joshua as he walked at least to the edge of the forest so Seungcheol could properly carry him without getting odd looks. But Hansol was good enough to walk home on his own, and you were, too. So you got out of bed and changed back into the clothes you were in when they found you -- but now they were washed and clean.

“So..._____,” the taller alpha began just to make some sort of conversation in the awkward silence, “where are you going to go now?”

“Uh…” you trailed off before shrugging. “I don’t know, probably back to the cave.”

“Cave?” the girl repeated as the group looked at you with varying looks of surprise. “I thought you were from here?”

“I am,” you nodded, “but I don’t live here.”

“You live in a cave?” the shorter alpha checked.

You shook your head, “Well, no. Recently, I’ve been staying in a cave because I found it. Before it was just...wherever there was some sort of shelter.”

“So you don’t live anywhere?” the wolf you had yet to meet asked. He had shaggy strawberry blonde hair and stayed close to the other girl.

“I guess not.”

You were too busy going back to putting your shirt on that you didn’t notice the way the pack pointedly looked at Joshua.

-

As the pack was leaving and walking down the few steps -- going slowly as to be accommodating for Josh -- you followed behind them. You weren’t really sure what to do with yourself for the rest of the day since you still weren’t feeling 100%. Maybe you could just go find a place to nap or something.

The pack continued onto the path, but Joshua turned his head. He saw you still standing on the middle step, looking this way and that with a thoughtful look on your face as you held a small paper bag with your medication in it. He stopped walking, causing the two who were helping support his weight stop. So the two behind him stopped, as well. They all turned to look where he was looking, which was at you.

Joshua very loudly cleared his throat, catching your attention. He was looking at you in annoyance, and his eyes rolled when you continued to just stand there and stare at him.

“Well come on,” he snapped.

“...Huh?”

“Let’s go,” he said with more force. “I’m tired and wanna go home. If you trail behind and get caught in another net or get attacked by wild animals, that’s not my problem.”

He turned back and continued walking again, the two beside him moving with him despite them continuing to glance back at you.

Was he...inviting you home with them? But didn’t he say you weren’t going with them? So--

“You should probably hurry,” the short one -- you realized his name was Jihoon -- told you, though he had traces of a smile on his face. “He’s pretty irritable.”

“Shut up, Hoon,” Joshua called behind him.

Jihoon chuckled but continued walking.

Hansol, however, stayed back to wait for you. He understood you must’ve been a little confused. You were dying, only to wake up to a mate, members of his pack, and now you were being told one thing and then something completely opposite. So he waved you over.

“C’mon, _____,” he called with a warm smile. “We’re gonna take you home.”

Home. That sounded nice to you. It was a word you hadn’t heard or thought of in a while now. So you bounded down the steps and walked beside Hansol as he began telling you about their pack and the house.

Ahead of you, Joshua was grumbling to himself in annoyance about the whole situation.

[janetbrown711]

“If we get caught I’m blaming you” dot Wakko

Dot liked Doctor Scratchnsniff.

He was very nice, and even when not in a session, he was always willing to lend a helping hand and talk to her. Plus, he helped her with her "PTSD" he called it, though she knew it more as her nightmares and chest pains. They weren't exactly gone yet, but they were far less often as they used to be (she used to not be able to not sleep without her parents but now she was doing pretty good).

She knew her brothers didn't feel the same, but she had a feeling they'd warm up eventually. After all, it was undeniable the stuff he did with her helped her feel better with time. Sure- she wasn't exactly cured, but he said it would take time and she believed him.

However, that didn't mean she told him everything- especially if she wasn't sure if it even was a problem.

The problem was Max.

Dot hadn't ever seen him since the party, but for a while, it was all Yakko talked about. Her parents and Scratchnsniff said it'd slow with time, but it was easy to say it didn't. Yakko was... almost unrecognizable with how much he focused on Max. He never talked to her or Wakko about anything other than him. There was something about him that was just... better than them. Yakko described him as a "good different". Did that mean they were a "bad different"? Yakko used to swear and promise he'd die for them and protect them against their grandmother at all costs- but if Max had always been in the picture would that be the same? Was Max really that much better than them? Heck, Yakko basically admitted he didn't think they were friends...

That was why she was willing to team up with Wakko. She didn't like feeling like that, and if she could get rid of Max things could go back to how they were before. Except without their grandmother too.

Once Yakko returned from his day trip in Disneyland it was soon thereafter announced that Max and his father would be visiting Warnerstock within 2 weeks, so Wakko and Dot quickly began to plan ways to sabotage the two as much as they could.

With Wakko intercepting most of Yakko's and Max's letters to each other, they were able to figure out a game plan. They knew Yakko and Max would mostly be hanging out in the study, but that they'd then be eating lunch (something that they used to do as a family, but Yakko clearly didn't mind dropping that for him).

In preparation, they stole backup keys to the cupboard where all the spices were kept, and to the cleaning supply storage room, and they also stole many buckets of waters from the maids who were too busy to notice two children dragging their buckets away (they only told half empty ones because if they were full they were too heavy).

What they planned to do was set a few buckets of water over doorways so when they stepped through, they'd get soaked. Wakko wanted to make it hot and soapy water, but that was a little too hard to figure out and they already knew it'd be a challenge to get them up there. They also planned to put spicy powders on the handles of the doors to the study so that if they ever touched their face they'd get a painful reaction (something Wakko had experienced numerous times). They also planned to improvise throughout the day, but they'd need to see how things go with Yakko and Max at that point. Who knows? Maybe Max would realize they don't want him and that he should just leave and never come back.

Finally, the day arrived.

Wakko and Dot figured it was best to play along until the boys broke off, and then they'd set the buckets up. However, they still put the powder on the door knobs, figuring that one could take awhile before either realize.

Good thing the two of them had years of pretending to be good little children for their grandmother, otherwise it would've been harder to be "on their best behavior" for their guest.

"Goofy, Max, it's such a pleasure to welcome you two into our home," Lena said as she greeted the guests.

"It's a pleasure to be here. And might I say, you have a lovely home," The king gave an over the top bow and had a big smile on his face. Wakko and Dot exchanged a look.

"Yeah, it's nice," Max said, clearly embarrassed by his dad's antics. Lena laughed.

"Thank you," She nodded at him. "Goofy, these are my children and husband, William. Yakko you know, then there's Wakko and Dot," Lena gestured to each of them. They all bowed when their name was spoken.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet ya too," He bowed again. Max and Yakko shared a look too.

"Uh... Mom? Can Max and I..?" Yakko silently asked her. Lena nodded.

"You two are free to go while we sort out some more business. You two can go as well if you want," Lena said to Dot and Wakko. Gladly, the children all left the throne room, with Yakko and Max heading off to the study, but Wakko and Dot dashing into another hallway so they'd believed they were safe and by themselves before they could begin stalking and prepping the buckets.

"I hate him... and his dad. They're dumb," Wakko scoffed, once they knew they were out of ear shot.

Well... that was a little rude.

"I dunno, he seemed nice," Dot shrugged, peeking around the corner to find Max and Yakko laughing.

"Please, Prince Snooty couldn't even say hi to us," Wakko rolled his eyes before looking at what Dot was looking at and scowling.

"Remember: He's just here to take Yakko away from us, just like grandmum," He reminded her.

"Right. We have to stop them no matter what," Dot agreed. The pair continued to spy on the two until Yakko and Max disappeared down the hallway.

"C'mon, we have buckets to set up," Wakko said, and they headed off to set up their pranks.

After grabbing the buckets needed, it occurred to Wakko and Dot that they were rather short to attempt to place them atop the door, even if she stood on his shoulders. So they went to the nearest room with chairs and dragged one over, and Wakko stood on that, and Dot atop his shoulders.

As Wakko passed her the bucket though, she nearly dropped it.

"If we get caught, I'm blaming you," Wakko panicked, checking their surroundings. Dot blushed, deeply embarrassed, before trying again.

Luckily, she managed not to drop or spill any water, and soon enough they successfully got it atop the doorway Yakko and Max would have to go through.

Now all they had to do was wait.

Dot sat on the stairs next to the study, but Wakko continued on, much to Dot's confusion.

"Where are you going?" Dot asked.

"I'm going to find mom. I don't wanna stay here to wait," Wakko said.

"And sit through a boring meeting?" Dot tilted her head.

"Mom thinks I'm useful in meetings," Wakko crossed his arms.

Struck a nerve there...

"You can stay- whatever. I'm sure we'll hear their screams soon enough," Wakko said, and he walked away, leaving her alone.

Was hanging out with Dot really worse than a boring meeting? Was Dot really becoming uninteresting?

Was this what her grandmother meant when she said unladylike behavior was "unbecoming"? Was she right about her all along..?

"Dot? Is that you?" A familiar accented voice spoke. She looked behind her to find none other than Doctor Scratchnsniff. She hushed him, but scooted to the side to allow him to sit next to her.

"What's going on?" He said in a hushed tone, taking her invitation and sitting next to her.

"Yakko's hanging out with a prince and me and Wakko set up a prank," Dot said, confident she could trust the good doctor.

"A prank? What kind?" He asked.

"We put buckets of water on the doors so when they try to leave they get soaked, and we put chili powder on the door handles so if they touch their face it'll burn and they'll hurt really bad," Dot grinned.

"That's a little mean, no?" He said. Dot glanced at him.

"N-no. He deserves it. He's trying to take Yakko away," She said.

"What makes you say that?" He asked softly. Dot's tail twitched nervously as she thought.

"W-well... Yakko used to always promise that everything would be okay if we stayed together... and he promised that when we came home we'd be a big happy family but now all he wants to do is hang out with Max and talk about Max and be with Max," Dot folded her arms and rested on her knees.

"And that makes you feel..?" He inquired.

"Like-... Like I don't matter to him anymore... like he's sick of me..." Dot confessed with a sigh.

"I'm not annoying, am I?" She turned to the doctor.

"Of course not. You're very witty and fun to be around," He comforted her. "Does that thought, by chance, have anything to do with your grandmother?"

He always knew when something was related to the old queen, even without mentioning her name once.

"Yeah," Dot admitted.

"Remember, you're a lot more than what your grandmother thought. Remember those positive affirmations we went through," He said.

"The ''I'm home, I'm safe?" Dot tilted her head.

"No, those are the grounding ones. These are your self-affirmations: You are kind, you are brave, and you are loved. Remember?" He said.

"Oooh, right!" Dot recalled, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. "I am kind. I am brave. I am loved."

"Very good Dot," Scratchnsniff smiled. Dot smiled too.

"Now... I know you may not want to yet, but I think it best you give this Max a shot before pushing him away. While Yakko shouldn't be pushing you away, it's clear this boy means a lot to him and it would probably mean a lot to him if you liked him too, ya?" Scratchnsniff said, standing up.

Dot thought for a minute.

"Okay... I'll... give him a shot," She sighed.

"Good," He patted her head softly, but she quickly stood and gave him a hug.

"You're really nice," she said. He laughed a little.

"Thank you, Dot. You're really nice too," He said back, before she broke the hug and he continued on his way.

Dot continued waiting on the stairs for quite a while, before (out of boredom) she decided it might be interesting/fun to listen in on whatever it was Yakko and Max were talking about. Quickly and quietly she crept to the doors, carefully not to touch it so as not to knock over the bucket of water, and began to eavesdrop.

"Yeah, I'd imagine having siblings is different from 'not even blood related 'cousins.' Must be nice," Max said.

Yakko laughed. "Yeah, though Wakko and Dot can be just as chaotic. Still, they have their moments and I'd still do anything for them."

"They must not like strangers though, huh?" Max sighed, and Dot felt a pang of guilt.

"No, not really... They're so used to only being able to rely on our family, it's hard for them to branch out-- especially Wakko. Grandma really messed us up."

"She must've really, really sucked, huh?" Max half -oked.

"Yeah..." Yakko half-chuckled.

A pause.

"I wish we had known sooner- I'm sure my dad or Uncle Mickey or Donald would've done something. They hate people like that- can't stand child abuse," Max swore.

"I don't know how much could've been done, but... thanks. I really appreciate it- but know you being here... it's enough. Really," Yakko reassured.

Another pause.

"Wait, don't touch my face- there was powder on the door handles when we went in," Max said.

Dang it, they were caught.

"What? Seriously?!" Yakko groaned. "I'm sorry- they're usually much better than this. How did you know?"

"I'm used to prank wars from Huey, Dewey, and Louie. Trust me- this is tame compared to the stuff they'd pull," Max chuckled. "Oh, and there's a bucket of water on the door. We're stuck until someone notices and removes it or else we'll be soaked."

Double dang it, they were caught again.

Yakko chuckled.

"Your sibs don't sound half bad- other than the clear hostility, but I guess with how much of a nightmare your guy's lives have been so far I can see why," Max said. "Just wish I could fix it somehow."

Dot once again felt guilty.

"Me too... you're... well... you know... important to me," Yakko said.

Dot decided she couldn't listen to it anymore. Instead, she went and got the chair out again and began trying to remove the bucket as best she could. However, being several inches shorter now that she wasn't on Wakko's shoulders, she failed, and the bucket fell, soaking her in cold water that caused her to yelp and fall off the chair onto the floor.

Knowing she couldn't stay lest she be caught, she bolted away as fast as she could, ignoring the throb in her head from where the bucket hit her.

however, she was caught by her father, who had heard the loud crash, and went to investigate.

"Dot? What's the matter- why are you soaking wet?" William asked. Dot pondering lying, but realized Max and Yakko already knew what was happening so she may as well.

"Welllllllll, I didn't like Max so I wanted to prank him with water and chili powder, but that failed and now I'm soaking wet," Dot confessed.

"Dot, I thought we told you to be on your best behavior while we had guests over," William sighed. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

"I know, dad. I'm sorry," Dot apologized, glad he believed she did it alone. She didn't want Wakko to get into trouble.

"It's fine- so long as you learned your lesson," William said. "Pranks like that aren't very nice- especially to Max because he doesn't have a change of clothes. Imagine how it'd feel if you had to stay like that all day," William said.

That was a good point... these pranks were mean, just like Scratchnsniff said.

Eventually, they made it to her room and she changed into a clean and dry dress, and William helped dry off her fur and brushed it back to perfection, tying her ears back with her favorite yellow flower ponytail.

"Much better," He smiled at her through the mirror. Dot smiled back.

"However... I think it's probably best you stay with us for the rest of the meeting as a fair punishment," William said. Dot wanted to fight it, but alas, she knew he was right. She nodded, accepting her fate.

As she walked back with her father to the boring meeting she was now going to join apparently, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Max really didn't deserve any of the dirty looks or hostility she and Wakko had been giving him- he seemed really nice. Plus, he was important to Yakko. While it sucked that he wasn't hanging out with her as much, it didn't mean she was unlovable or annoying. It was wrong to take all that out on Max.

Now all she had to do was convince Wakko of the same.

.o0o.

The boring meeting thankfully didn't last much longer, and Dot was able to meet up with Wakko once again, who naturally had a lot of questions. However, they both decided it was best to go into the playroom, away from the other adults, to continue their conversation.

"What happened? I heard a crash but I don't see Yakko and Max- were you wearing that earlier?" Wakko tilted his head.

"It didn't work- Max apparently lives with really good prankers and what we did is considered 'tame'," Dot shrugged.

"Seriously? Ughhhh," Wakko groaned. "I guess that means we'll have to seriously step up our game..." he stroked his chin.

"Wait- maybe... maybe we shouldn't," Dot said. Wakko raised an eyebrow.

"But Max is taking Yakko away from us. We have to stop him," Wakko crossed his arms.

"I don't think he is... he seems really nice," Dot bit her lip.

"What? Are you insane?" Wakko accused.

"I'm not insane. Those pranks were mean and could've ended badly. Max seems nice- he says he wants us to trust him but doesn't know how," Dot defended herself.

"Then he should leave us alone and never come back! I don't want him here! He doesn't belong here," He growled.

"Wakko, stop. Yakko really seems to care about him, don't you think we should give him a chance?" She argued.

"Yakko is our brother. He said he'd never abandon us, but now he is and it's because of him. I have to stop him to make Yakko come back to his senses," He put his foot down.

"Just because he has a friend doesn't mean he doesn't care about us. Doctor Scratchnsniff said-"

"Of course you talked to him," he shook his head. Dot looked down in shame. She knew he didn't really like him, though she really didn't understand why.

"He just said-"

"I don't care what he said! I don't like Max! I will never like Max! He's taking Yakko away and if I'm the only one who sees it, I don't care. Leave me alone," He spat.

"Wakko-"

"I said leave me alone!" He growled at her. Dot stepped back, before realizing it was probably best she listen and leave him alone. She quickly left the room.

Once out, she sighed. Hopefully, she could change his mind before he did anything drastic... for now, she'd just have to wait.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be too long, for Max's sake.

Goodness knows where Wakko would go to next if painful chili powder was level one.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

[q-gorgeous]

What Do You Mean That’s Not a Ghost?

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 1232

How does being constantly exposed to high amounts of ectoplasm affect the citizens of Amity Park? Prompt by @robotbeowulf

hidey hey

“I’m telling you Parker, this is gonna make our career! You’ve heard of all of the ghost sightings in Amity Park! Imagine how many ghosts we’ll be able to collect here!”

Two men were walking down the street together, both wearing trench coats. The first man was looking at Parker with a big smile on his face.

“I hope you’re right, Don.” Parker said, fiddling with a device in his hands. “Otherwise we came all the way here for nothing. What if all that talk about ghosts is just one giant tourist trap? We’d be out a lot of money.”

“Nah, nah, you’ll see. It’ll be great! Now turn that thing on already! I wanna see where our first ghost is.”

Parker turned on the machine and it started a slow and steady beep. They followed the dot on the screen towards the park. That makes sense. The ghosts here seem to terrorize the people who live here all the time so the park would be-

The tracker started to beep rapidly as they walked up to a picnic bench where a teen sat with headphones on, doing her homework. 

Parker looked at the tracker and back up at the girl. “What is this? That doesn’t look like a ghost. What’s wrong with this thing?”

Don nudged Parker with his elbow. “Some of these ghosts can be sneaky. Did you ever hear about that one therapist lady? Couldn’t even tell. I bet it’s the same with this one.”

He slowly walked up behind the girl, inching up behind her. Once he got close enough, he grabbed onto her arm. The girls fist came flying towards him though and he was not prepared. He fell to the ground when her fist connected with his face and tried covering his eyes when she pulled some pepper spray from her backpack. 

“Fuck off, you creep!”

Parker sighed, holding his head in his hand, as he watched Don get sprayed. The girl gathered up her stuff and stormed past him, knocking her shoulder into him as she went. 

Walking up to Don, Parker looked down as his friend squirmed and whined on the ground. 

“See, I told you-”

Suddenly the tracker started beeping rapidly again and two ghosts quickly flew over them, causing the wind to pick up. Once they left, the tree next to the picnic table stopped shaking. 

“Huh.” Parker said, staring at where they disappeared to. “I guess there are actually ghosts here.”

“Help..” Don croaked. 

QQQQQ

They sat outside a corner store on a bus stop bench. Don had a gallon of milk in his hand and milk soaking his hair and jacket. His eyes were puffy and red and people walking by shot them strange looks.

Parker waved at a particularly scary old lady who was giving Don the stink eye. 

“Okay.” He said, turning to Don. “So we know that the tracker works since those two ghosts flew over us before. But why did it pick up on that girl?”

Sulking, Don responded. “Maybe she’s a witch instead. Maybe they do some voodoo magic with ectoplasm.”

Parker scoffed. “What are you crazy? Witches aren’t real. But how are we supposed to know if someone’s a ghost or not?”

“Keep grabbing them until we can’t take any more pepper spray?”

“Maybe we gotta do more observations first.” Parker continued, ignoring Don. “We could go scope around town and see how many incorrect readings we get.” As they walked around town, they got person after person that were incorrectly labeled as a ghost by their machine. They’d walk up to someone, study them, and ask if they were a ghost. The looks they got were anywhere between confused to disgusted. Some were even grossed out and refused to talk to them at all because of the rotten milk still covering Don. 

“How can none of these people be ghosts?!” Parker threw his arms up in the air when they came to a stop at an intersection. “Why are they all setting off the tracker if they’re not ghosts? It doesn’t make sense!”

The light turned green and they started heading across the street.

“Maybe the entire town is full of dead people and no one knows.”

Parker shot Don an unimpressed look. “No. There has to be some sort of explanation.” 

They walked by an ice cream shop where a teenager with black hair was walking out with a cone. The tracker started beeping rapidly at him and Parker smacked it.

“See! This one doesn’t even say this kid is a level one! It’s trying to tell me this scrawny teenager is a level eight ectoplasmic entity!”

“Hey! Who are you calling scrawny?” The kid licked his ice cream cone as he glared at them. 

“Hey, kid, you wouldn’t happen to be a ghost would you?” Don called.

The teenager's eyes widened a bit and he took a bite of ice cream and swallowed it before answering. “No, I’m not a ghost, that’d be crazy, haha.”

Parker growled. “We’ve walked by so many people today and our tracker picked up on all of them! Not a single one was a ghost except for those two that flew over the park today! This thing is just a hunk of garbage!”

“Wait, it’s reading humans as ghosts?” The kid looked perplexed. 

“Yeah. We’ve been asking person after person if they were a ghost or not because they were all showing up on the radar.” Don said. 

“I wonder why-” He snapped his fingers. “Oh! I remember my mom saying something about this! They had to adjust all their instruments because they said everyone in town is starting to pick up their own residual ecto-signatures. Especially the teenagers because-”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Parker said, arms in a pause motion. “Residual ecto-signatures?”

“Yeah.” He took another lick of his ice cream. “Having a fully functional, always open portal to the ghost zone letting all the ghosts loose into town was probably bound to have some effects eventually.”

“You.” Don paused. “You said especially the teenagers. Why is that?”

“Well.” The kid said. “Ghost attacks happen most frequently at the high school which leads to higher rates of ectoplasmic entities there along with more chances the kids are gonna get caught up in something. That could be possession, getting hit by an ectoblast, getting ghost powers-”

“Ghost powers?!” Parker shouted. “How did they get ghost powers?”

“Ghost mosquito bites.” He shrugged. 

“Well why is yours so high? All the other people have been level ones, but you’re a level eight.”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’ve grown up with scientists and inventors for parents and they occasionally misplaced their ectoplasm inside the fridge.”

Don stared at him. “What? Who are your parents?”

“Jack and Madeline Fenton, resident ghost hunters and experts.”

They stared at the boy with slack jaws. “Your parents are the Fentons?”

“Yes?”

“I should’ve known that if something this crazy was going on that they were bound to be near.” Parker sighed and hung his head. “Come on Don. I don’t think this is quite the place we were looking for.” They started walking away, heads hanging down.

“Bye?” The boy called to them in a confused tone of voice. 

The two men walked away into the distance, the sound of beeping filling the air as people milled about around them. 

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Max Dennison

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You met Max after he moved to Salem. The two of you were in the same History class and sat fairly close to each other. Because of this; and the fact that you’re drop dead gorgeous, he quickly developed a crush on you.

- It doesn’t take long for him to shoot his shot but there is a period in time where he’s waiting for the right moment to say something and just doing the typical “I have a crush on you” things.

- When Max has a crush, he’ll do whatever he can to see them more; making sure he’s behind them on his bike as they begin to walk home, sneaking glances at them in class, strategically sitting at a lunch table where he’ll be able to watch them or standing close to their locker.

- Once he’s had enough of just watching, he’ll move on to using any excuse he can to seem cool and/or talk to them. This is usually when he begins to come up with a plot to ask them out and it’s not long after that he actually does so.

- Max asks you out only about a week or so after he moves to Salem. He was just planning on giving you his phone number or asking if you’d like to hang out sometime but things didn’t really go as planned.

- He’d wanted to go out and explore the town by himself but his parents forced him to take Dani with him while they continued to unpack. So, he begrudgingly let his sister join him on his adventure, figuring that the worst that could happen was her slowing him down and slightly annoying him.

- They’d gotten a good ways into town without a hitch; besides Dani forcing him to pick flowers, and Max had just about let his guard down. Well, that was until he saw you.

- He immediately froze in place, greeting you in surprise as you just so happened to turn and spot them. Dani immediately connected the dots as to who you were, she’d heard her brother secretly fawn over you more than once.

- It was only after you glanced down at his hand that Max remembered he was holding his sisters wildflower bouquet. He laughed nervously, raising his hand a bit and trying to make himself seem less like a loser as he explained he was looking after his little sister …and her flowers.

- While Dani is undoubtedly an adorable sweetheart, she is also somewhat devious. She uses this delightful coincidence to get her way, mentioning that Max was “just about to take her to the park”. He was just about ready to kill her before you chimed in.

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Bingo.

- He immediately acted as though that was the plan all along and invited you to join them while Dani smiled at her obvious success. A cute boy asking you to go to the park with him and his little sister, why wouldn't you agree?

- So you joined the two of them, laughing and watching on fondly as he played with Dani and getting to know each other more and more whenever she went off to do something on her own. You wound up staying there for hours and probably would have stayed even longer if Dani hadn’t mentioned that her feet hurt and that she was tired. 

- If Max had learned anything at all, he learned that you thought it was cute when he was nice to his sister, so he offered her a piggyback ride as the three of you walked home. When you arrived at your house, he set Dani down and walked you to your door. 

”Well, if you ever want to go to the park again, you know who to call.” He smiled, handing you his number before joining back with his sister. 

“Dani? Have I ever told you that I loved you?” The little girl couldn't help but smile at her goofy older brother. 

- The two of you had your first actual date a few days later. He took you to the movies, then to go get some ice cream, and finally you wound up back at the park you’d gone to, sitting on the swing and eating your dessert. 

- He told you that you had something on your face, smiling as he leant in and kissed the corner of your mouth before slowly making his way to your lips. 

- It was in that moment; with your lips pressed against his, that Max thought to himself maybe Salem wasn’t so bad after all. 

- Innocent pda all the time. He just can’t help himself when you’re standing right there and looking so adorable.

- Handholding whenever you can. You swear he’s gonna learn how to be ambidextrous with how much he wants to keep your hand in his.

- Soft, chaste kisses.

- Cheek kisses. He can never hold back a smile when you give him one.

- He likes keeping his arm around your waist while you walk together. He likes how perfectly you fit into his side.

- Tight hugs. He does that thing where you give the person a squeeze and sorta sway with them while you hug, it’s very nice.

- Hugs from behind. He always presses a kiss to your head before he pulls away.

- This boy literally daydreams about cuddling his crush; he’d adore cuddling you anytime, anyplace. He usually wants to be the big spoon but he’d be up for any type of snuggling.

- He leans his head on yours whenever you rest your head on his shoulder.

- Hanging out with him in his widows walk, stargazing or watching the sunset/sunrise.

- He really doesn’t care what the two of you do as long as you’re together.

- Typical teenager dates: going bowling or roller skating, watching movies, getting pizza or ice cream; things like that.

- He tries to make you laugh with little impressions and exaggerative comedic routines.

- Getting teased a lot. He’ll pop out from behind corners to spook you, jokingly mock you and your little superstitions, and attack you from behind, wrapping his arms around you and growling while nuzzling his face into your neck. He thinks your reactions are cute.

- Watching him play his drums. Sometimes he’ll try and teach you how to play, othertimes he’ll just try to show off.

- He really wants you to think he’s cool and to be in awe of him. He’s constantly trying to show off and peacock for your attention.

- He’s quite fond of nicknames and pet names. He uses special ones though, something uniquely you.

- He keeps your photo framed on his nightstand or tucked under his pillow. He kisses it like every morning and night, occasionally talking to it when you’re mad at him or when he doesnt know what to do in a situation. It’s cute ...in an odd way.

- He’s in awe of you everytime he sees you dressed up or after a long time of not seeing each other. Sometimes he just can’t believe how beautiful you are.

- The amount of doodles he’s made of you while in class couldn’t even fit in a normal sketchbook.

- Dani is always interrupting the two of you, busting into his room and jumping between you as you sit on his bed or forcing her way between you two on the couch. She winds up accompanying you on a few of your dates, especially when his parents are busy. He can’t say he’s completely upset about it though, he likes watching you interact with her.

- You and her are probably best friends and occasionally hang out on your own without Max. She’s definitely spilled some embarrasing facts/secrets about Max whether one front of him or not.

- He’s sort of embarrassed by his family and their shenanigans. He turns bright red whenever they start acting all excited/childish. You cant imagine his relief when you assure him that you think its cute.

- He has a little sister so even though he’s a fairly typical teenage boy; he has that “I actually respect females” mindset. To an extent of course, he still can’t help but think about your yabbos from time to time.

- There isn’t a lot that grosses him out anymore since he was already a little grown up by the time his parents had Dani. He had to go through all those yucky baby phases so he has no problem holding your hair as you puke, bandaging your cuts, dealing with periods, wiping dirt off of you, and so on. Life’s gross, he’s accepted that a long time ago.

- Standing up for him. He finds it both embarrassing and touching at the same time.

- Letting him rant to you about how much he misses LA. He always absentmindedly adds on that you’re the only good thing to come out of Salem and it never fails to make you melt.

- Comforting him. He has a tendency to blame himself when things go wrong or work himself into a fit when something bad happens. You try to make sure he doesn't while also making him feel better. He’s always there for you when you need it as well.

- He’s a sweetheart and an adorable one at that. He’s always trying to make you feel better whenever he can and; overall, just being super nice to you. Making sure you’re happy is very important to him.

- He’s got a hard time keeping his mouth shut; he just cant help but say what he wants and not inconspiciously or very quietly either. You’ll oftentimes have to get him out of a situation before he starts more trouble than there has to be.

- Bringing out the best in each other.

- He sends a glance your way whenever someone mentions lovers, couples, or otherwise romantic things. It’s sort of like he’s saying “yeah, I’ve got one of those” or making future plans for the two of you in his head.

- Riding your bikes together or walking alongside him while he purposefully keeps pace with you on his.

- Going on stupid little adventures. They may be a bit reckless but they sure are fun.

- He’s somewhat of a pushover. He can very rarely resist your pleading/puppy dog eyes, especially when its combined with affection. You could genuinely stop him in his tracks with a single touch.

- You’ve definitely convinced him to let you put a face mask on him, braid his hair or do his makeup. Dani may or may not have been present or at least walked in on the two of you. She has not let him live it down since.

- He’s not scared of the supernatural; at least not yet, or spiders/insects, so he leaps at the chance to “protect you”. He tells you to “fear not” as he “vanquishes the beast”, delicately pushing you behind him and killing the thing or calling out to whatever ghouls may be lurking around.

- He insists in walking you home, mainly because it gives him the chance to spend more time with you.

- A trait he’s developed as an older brother is being protective of his loved ones. He won’t let anything happen to you; if he can help it, and usually has a pretty good plan when trying to get you out of trouble.

- He’s not an extremely jealous person. People being outwardly flirty or interested in you would tick him off but he reasons that you want him, not them and then he’s fine. Old boyfriends don’t bother him either, he’s your new and improved boyfriend; what would you want with them.

- He lashes out when he’s upset so you’ve definitely had your fair share of fights though they never last for very long. He immediately feels bad when he notices he’s actually hurt you and does whatever he can to apologize.

- He starts off with a genuine apology before he trying to explain himself, making a few little comments to try and get you to smile afterwards. Once you seem to forgive him, he shyly opens his arms and smiles as you go to hug him.

- He tells you that he loves you a lot; he just can’t help it. Everything you do makes him want to shout it out to the world.

- Prior to meeting you, he didn’t want to go to Salem at all, but now that he has you? He can’t bring himself to even think about leaving it.

[cloudbattrolls]

Far Beneath The World

Ashwat Tescal || Hanhai Cavern || Present Night

Far from the remote valley where Uunive lay recovering and Tuuya went out hunting under Ozryel’s control, hundreds of miles back across the continent lay Hanhai cavern. 

Set below the desert it was named for, its ancient spaces were well-maintained and lit, carved from the tan sandstone thousands of sweeps before. Its mother grub curled up in her vast chamber, resting, only a few matrons attending her at the moment. In a small, quiet room set off to the side, a matriorb laid incubating in a protective tank, waiting quietly for the night it would be needed. 

A young jade woman, nine sweeps old, lay in her recuperacoon and stared at the rocky ceiling of her room set with semiprecious stones and tiles, a mural telling the story of the first caverns. It was beautiful, intricate, and she’d woken up to it every night since she was three and could point at each part with her eyes shut.

She shifted back and forth in the sopor slime, but it didn’t help. Her body was tired and anxious all at once, and getting comfortable was impossible when her nerves refused to settle. What could she do? Work out, maybe…but she’d tried, and it only helped briefly before her worries settled back in.  

“Ashwat.”

The quiet whisper came from her door and she sat bolt upright before relaxing as she recognized the voice. It was just Daudre, but why did they sound so urgent at this hour? It was almost morning; somewhere the sun would just be creeping over the sandy horizon. 

Rare for a jade, Daudre was a they unless they declared otherwise on a given night - she didn’t really understand how their whole deal worked, but it didn’t bother her none either, unlike the older matrons. 

They were almost as jiggered by it as they’d been by her lineage-mate, Rivali, who wasn’t a lady on any night.

They’d mostly kept her and them apart when she’d grown up, saying they’d be a bad influence on her. They sure hadn’t looked happy most of the time, for certain, but she’d felt an odd sort of loss when they’d finally vanished for good one night. The matrons hadn’t seemed to fret any, and she wasn’t sure how she should feel. They hadn’t wanted Kotenkha’s legacy either. 

Well. She didn’t not want it, but…it was a lot, that’s all. It was a lot for one woman to carry. 

“Coming.” she yawned, slipping from her pajamas into some simple clothes, throwing the mildly slime-covered wear into her laundry bin. She pulled on the loose gray cavern uniform with her symbol on it (a circle surrounded by four dots), then knelt down and scratched her sleeping lusus’s ears briefly. The white canine slept in her well-made dog bed, ropelike fur splayed everywhere. Her mom snuffled slightly but didn’t wake up, and the woman smiled. 

As she walked over and opened the door, she noted with surprise that Daudre didn’t have their own lusus with them, a genet usually on their shoulders or scurrying along at their feet. The shorter, older jade looked unusually serious, a far cry from their usual happy or placid expression. Even the focus they got when working in the lab wasn’t like this; now they were still, too still - like they were trying too hard to be calm.

They weren’t even wearing their lab coat, weird. Instead they sported a dark gray sweater (dusted with a good bit of white fur) and some rumpled black pants. If their bleary but wary expression and the faint smell of coffee was any guide, they’d been up for a while.

Daudre gestured with a splayed hand, urging her onward, and Ashwat knew she had to stay quiet. They’d taught her that when she was little, back when a pupa’s babbling and shuffling hadn’t been welcomed by the matrons trying to teach her about her lineage, who were like to be a lot snappier about getting her to shush. 

She liked it better than a finger to the mouth, instead of a halt it was a beckon - come on, come forward, just mind when you speak. 

Even at this hour there were jades up tending grubs or eggs, cooking in the kitchens for tomorrow night. The scent of fresh bread wafted by her nostrils as they passed the bakery, and she had to breathe deep for a moment to avoid the heat at the edges of her eyes. 

Uunive loved bread. Making it, eating it - her sourdough was something special, Ashwat swore it didn’t taste like anyone else’s. It was just the right texture, the crust crunchy and dusted with flour.

Her friend’s small, plump hands (always well taken care of) had kneaded the dough of her last batch so well, and Ashwat’s had joined in as they laughed together.

“Ash?”

Daudre called quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

She hadn’t noticed that she’d stopped walking. Her mind was still half-stuck in the thick, moist dough, traces of laughter echoing in her mind.

“Ash, we need to keep moving.”

“Yeah, okay.” She muttered, wiping at her eyes. She hurried after them - at least it wasn’t hard to catch up.

She didn’t pay much attention to the passages after that. She only knew they plodded on for a decent bit before the older jade nudged her to stop.

She looked at the room they’d walked inside, trying to summon her memory…oh, yeah, she knew this place. She stepped inside, sneezing at the dust as Daudre closed the stone door behind them. 

This archive was one of the few places aside from the respiteblocks that had a door. Big and heavy, cumbersome to make and bring down here.

It wasn’t used much, this room, for all the cavern was supposed to be focused on its history. Maybe because of its contents. 

The ancient filing cabinets held records of mutants. Unusual, often dangerous psiionics who had to be culled or given inhibitors at hatching. Trolls from lines the empire didn’t want continued.

Especially jade ones. 

Daudre looked around, checking for…she had no idea, actually. They had to keep stopping themself from biting their claws, ears flicking like they did whenever the scientist had to give a presentation to the cavern superiors and had stayed up too late into the day. 

She rummaged in her sylladex, fingertips brushing through the cards, until she pulled out a fidget spinner she kept for another friend and handed it to them.

“Thanks.” They sighed in relief, immediately twirling it. “I’m…I wish I didn’t have to do this.” 

Ashwat stared dumbly, big jade eyes uncomprehending.

They sucked in a breath. “I need to tell you about Uunive. Things the cavern matrons don’t - and can’t - know. Especially now that she’s been missing for a week.”

Her curly hair bounced as she shook her head in disbelief and confusion.

“You’ve gotta be joshin’ me, Dau.” She declared, deep voice resonating through the old sandstone chamber, carved roughly square. “You don’t know where she is, right?”

Rare among the cavern’s rooms, luminescent moss still grew on the walls, strictly contained after problems with it spreading sweeps back, and the dull teal glow was comforting in a way she needed right now. She put a hand on a wall, running her claws through the fuzzy dampness. The stone beneath was cool despite the heat of the desert above. 

The older jade looked up at her with sympathy, but resignedly shook their head. 

“There’s still no trace of her.” They confirmed sadly, ears drooping as they fiddled with the spinner more.

Dau had always been warm to Uni, even when she’d first come, they were like that. They had a smile for almost everyone, especially new folks, not that their cavern got a lot of them. She hadn’t been new for a long while, but she still remembered how they’d shown her around, holding her small wriggler hand as her lusus walked alongside her, alert to all the new trolls.

Now they were leading her deeper into confusion.

“If that’s so…why are we here to talk about her?”

They bit their lip, running a hand through their short hair.

“Ash, you like Uunive a lot, don’t you? You two are uh, pretty close, from what everyone says.” They said, looking a little sheepish for some reason she didn’t understand.

The younger jade blinked.

“‘Course I like her. Who doesn’t? I know some folks were slow to trust her ‘cause she’s not from around here, but nobody could dislike Uni.”

It was unthinkable. Uunive was such a perfect jade, so mannerly, so well-spoken and dutiful. Secretly, Ashwat was a little jealous - her friend didn’t seem to mind anything she did, not even the tasks the taller woman found tedious or the lessons that were hard to understand. Then she felt bad, because it wasn’t Uni’s fault she’d rolled out of her egg so smart and hardworking and pretty.

Daudre laughed a little, sounding a mite nervous to her, and stuck their hands in their pants pockets.

“All right…I guess that answers my question. Well. Ashwat, would you still like Uunive even if she wasn’t quite who you thought she was?”

The woman blinked.

“What, if she had a secret or something? Everyone has secrets.” She said, shrugging. “Most folks anyway. I don’t think I have any, unless I forgot.” She frowned for a moment, thinking, then shook her head, her undercut bouncing. 

“Yeah, of course I would.” She said confidently, a big smile unfolding on her face. “Uunive could tell me she’d nicked the empress’s panties and I’d still like her, though I might have to take a sec to calm down. Before I high fived her, because that would be sick.”

The genet troll bubbled up with laughter that sounded a little stressed, but they looked slightly calmer when they were done, flapping their hands at her in amusement.

“All right…ugh, I’m taking a big risk here, but you’re the only other troll I can rely on.” 

They sighed, then looked gravely serious, like mother grub-heavy-illness serious. The kind of serious they only got when things were about to get real tangled, and Ashwat felt a prickle of worry wriggle its way down her spine.

When he next spoke, they looked around again as if checking for something, then dropped his voice to almost a whisper.

“Ashwat, Uunive isn’t…she isn’t a normal jade. I can’t tell you the specifics, even revealing this much puts us both in danger, but it’d be best if no one ever saw her bleed. No one knows this but you and me, as far as all the matrons are concerned she’s a regular transfer from a regular cavern.”

Huh. 

“A regular cavern?” The komodor troll echoed curiously. 

Daudre groaned. “Forget you heard that. Okay, so…what I mean is, the reason Uunive has disappeared and we have no trace might not be straightforward. Worst case scenario, she’s dead - ”

“No way.” The dog troll said firmly, without flinching. “Uunive’s not dead.”

Daudre fidgeted, not wanting to meet the young woman’s eye.

“Ashwat, I know it would be hard to accept, but - “

“Uunive’s not dead.” She repeated, simply. She took her hand off the cavern wall and clasped both of them together. 

The older jade pressed their own fingers together, taking a few breaths before they spoke again.

“...why do you think that?”

“‘Cause, I still have all the stuff she gave me and it’s fine.” she said, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of her pocket. She kept most of her friend’s other gifts in her sylladex, or her room, but she always kept the sunglasses around in case she felt like going for a walk on the surface during the evening or morning. Uni didn’t like going out in the light, but then not all jades did; resistance to the sun varied, and it hurt the skin and eyes of some more than others.

Daudre looked quizzical. 

“Ash…”

“You can think what you want.” She interrupted calmly. “But I know my Uni’s fine, or she’s going to be fine. If she wasn’t, I’d have lost what she gave me, or they’d have broken. I still have them, every single one.”

The older jade looked lost for words, unsure how to handle the situation. They made a troubled and thoughtful noise, staring down at the rocky floor.

“All right.” They finally said, meeting her eyes again as their shoe scuffed back and forth on the rock.

“It’s true we haven’t found a body, or any sign of her blood…the cavern’s about to give up searching, because we don’t have anything to go on. Nothing got left behind that a psychic could track. The best we can tell, she made it so far before she just vanished. We’re pretty sure she never made it to the town she was going to visit. If I knew more about her history before she came here, that might help, but her lusus is pretty close-lipped…that’s for the better, I suppose.”

“Her lusus?” Ashwat said, frowning. “Uni’s lusus is dead.”

Daudre smacked themself in the forehead, dragging a hand down their face and shaking their head at their indiscretion. They sighed, then continued.

“Not quite, but I haven’t been able to get ahold of them since this happened, which bothers me a lot. I’ve only had trouble reaching them once before, and at least they had a message on their phone’s voicemail saying they were in space. I can’t even dial their number properly now, it says the line’s been disconnected.”

Uunive’s lusus was alive and had been to space? Wow. That was even weirder than something being up with her blood, whatever it was. Ashwat was impressed; her friend had been hiding so much with not even the slightest peep about it.

Then her face fell, her ears drooping downward.

“Wait, so…what are we going to do, then? If even the cavern can’t find anything, how could we manage? We can’t just…leave to go look, can we? I mean, I would, but…”

Ashwat had never followed the rules too strictly, but she didn’t flout them on purpose either. Sometimes it was easier or more fun to do things a different way, but she got why there was stuff they shouldn’t do for safety and things like that. The idea of going directly against the matrons’ wishes, instead of just wiggling her own way through, made her pick her claws nervously.

She didn’t want to wind up a file in this room, having disgraced the Tescal line. Especially since she was the only one of Kotenkha’s descendants left here now. 

Sure, maintaining the legacy wasn’t her favorite…but straight-out abandoning it? That’d just be plain wrong. 

“No, we have to stay here.” Daudre agreed. “I can’t just waltz off from my job, and I need to be here in case she does come back. You do too. But I think I know who can help us.”

Ashwat’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You do?”

Daudre had the faint hint of a hopeful smile on their squarish face as they took out their phone from their sylladex.

“Let’s give Rivali a call.”

[ragewerthers]

Fixed It

Summary: Something is bothering Ushijima after a Christmas get together. Hajime is keen to find out what happened and whatever it is, he swears he's going to fix it.

A/n: This is a SUPER late Christmas fic for my friend @ticklygiggles!

She gave me the Christmas prompt: “And look! Now it’s just you and me on Christmas, pretty nice, eh?”

You can read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31264853

Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 4022

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

“Well… that was a nice evening. What did you think, Ushi?” Iwa asked, a small smile on his face as he chanced a glance at his partner who had stayed quiet since they’d left Oikawa’s Christmas party. Ushijima had always been a quiet person by nature, but it had felt like ever since the party the man had slowly become more and more withdrawn.

“Yes. Nice,” Ushijima said quietly, staring out the passenger side window and keeping his arms folded over his chest. The words weren’t spoken with any sort of annoyance or dismissal. Merely uttered as if in reflex, like Ushi’s thoughts were a million miles away.

Hajime frowned a bit at that, clicking on the turn signal as they made their way onto the street leading to their apartment. He honestly couldn’t wait to get back home to their small flower shop so that he could hopefully try and talk to him in a place he felt safest in. It was bothering him not knowing what was going on in the other man’s head, but he knew that if he asked right now Ushijima would claim it was nothing. That he was okay. Then he’d try to deflect any other questions and Hajime would be left no closer to the answer.

Had Ushi been like this before the party? Iwa couldn’t say that he’d noticed if he had. They’d even been joking around a bit as they put on their Christmas sweaters. Ushi had gone the more traditional route, wearing a nicely fitted dark grey sweater with a few white snowflakes dotting the front. Meanwhile, Iwa had gone with an ugly Christmas sweater in an attempt to annoy his best friend. It was a hideously green thing with an alien on the front that was wearing a santa hat. The words ‘Peace On Earthlings’ was emblazoned over the whole thing and honestly, Iwa couldn’t have felt more proud of his choice.

Thinking back on it, even on the ride over they had still been joking, though Ushi had seemed to grow a little nervous the closer they got to Oikawa’s apartment. He’d chalked it up to getting ready to be bombarded with Tooru’s intensity. While the hostility that had once been there between the two was now mostly down to small teases, he knew that his partner was still worried about doing or saying something that might upset the man.

But the night had truly seemed to go off without a hitch. There was good food, lots of laughs and it had been nice being able to catch up with old friends and old rivals alike.

Not to mention it was fun seeing who was now seeing who and watching others trying to find a holiday date.

“So… did you see what Bokuto was up to this evening?” Iwa asked with a little chuckle, hoping that maybe talking of some of the lighter moments of the night would help lift his darling's mood. “He kept trying to find ways to catch Akaashi under the mistletoe. Kuroo seemed to be doing the same with Daichi… at least until Sawamura called him an idiot and just kissed him by the snack table. Captain Kitty-cat turned so red he could’ve led Santa’s sleigh!”

Hajime couldn’t help laughing even as he spoke, thinking of how absolutely shocked Kuroo had been at the former Crow captain acting so brazenly in front of them all. “And I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard when Mattsukawa and Hanamaki kept getting in between Oikawa and Suga when they kept trying to get some alone time. I think if Yachi hadn’t distracted Issei, those two would’ve never gotten a moment together.”

As he pulled up outside their building and parked, Iwa had to stop a moment to wipe a few tears of mirth from his eyes as he thought about the look on Oikawa’s face. Glancing over he noticed that rather than getting a smile out of his boyfriend, the man only seemed to look a little more uncomfortable.

“Ushi?” Iwa murmured, turning the car off and giving him his full attention.. “Love, what’s wrong? And don’t tell me it’s nothing because I know you. You’ve been acting differently since we left Oikawa’s. Did something happen I should know about?” A protective spark instantly flared in the former Ace’s chest thinking that anyone would’ve said something to hurt his partner.

“No. It’s fine, Hajime. It’s nothing,” Ushi murmured, opening the car door and already stepping out into the cold night air.

“Ushi? Ushijima, hang o-gah!” Iwa called out, opening his own car door to follow, but getting hung up on his seatbelt and effectively gagging himself. After a bit of floundering he finally got himself free and quickly closed the car door behind him before rushing off after his partner. Damn the man and his long legs!

Ushijima had already made his way into the flower shop that he ran below their apartment, flicking the lights, but not so much as turning his head to check on the little plants and flowers that lined the shelves. Something Ushijima always did when he entered his shop.

“Ushijima, wait!” Iwa called out as he made it inside.

The former Shiratorizawa captain was standing just at the base of the stairs leading up to their home, his shoulders slumped and his back toward Iwa. “Ushi… please… tell me what’s bothering you. I can’t fix something when I don't know what the problem is.”

“This is something you can’t fix, Hajime,” Ushijima said quietly, the somber tone of his voice making Iwa’s chest ache.

“Hey, you don’t know that. I’m great at fixing things,” he offered gently as he closed the shop door behind them and made his way closer to Ushijima. “Remember when you said I couldn’t fix the shelf in the kitchen? Fixed it. Remember when you said I couldn’t save the dinner we made last week? Fixed it.”

“No. You ‘fixed’ the shelf by throwing it away and you ‘fixed’ dinner by ordering take out,” Ushijima murmured, though Iwa was almost positive he heard the other’s voice lighten just a bit.

“And? Just because the remedy wasn’t what was expected the problems were still fixed thanks to me being just that amazing,“ Iwa offered, now finally standing close enough to Ushi to lay his hand on his shoulder and give it a soft squeeze. “So please. Tell me what happened so I can try to fix this too?”

Iwa waited patiently for some sign that Ushi was going to give in and for a brief moment he worried that his partner was simply going to refute his question again and head upstairs. But after a few more seconds, Ushijima finally seemed to come to a decision as he turned around to face him.

Iwa felt his heart break all over again to see his expression so downcast and the way his teeth were worrying his lower lip in a way that told him just how uncertain his boyfriend was.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, sweetheart. I promise I’ll do my best to fix any problems you have,” Iwa murmured, bringing a hand up to gently cup his darling’s cheek and watching as Ushi gently nuzzled into his palm at the soft contact.

“I know you would. But… what if the problem… is me?” Ushijima said quietly and that protective spark flared up once again in Iwa’s chest, his brows furrowing as he looked over his obviously disheartened and hurting partner.

“There is absolutely nothing… nothing about you that needs fixing, Wakatoshi. You are perfect. You are the most perfect of perfect perfections. If you were any more perfect it would be illegal,” Iwa said softly with as much conviction as he could muster. “Now… tell me who told you otherwise so I can drive back to Shitty-kawa’s party and kick their ass. And I swear to god if it was Trashy-kawa himself there will literally be hell to pay.”

Ushijima’s eyes widened as he heard that, his cheeks flushing pink. It would’ve been endearing if Iwa wasn’t feeling the need to make someone answer for their transgressions against his boyfriend.

“No. Hajime, I promise that no one said anything. Nothing. At all……. to me,” Ushi whispered, slowly losing steam as he talked and letting his gaze fall to the floor between them, unable to look Iwa in the eyes anymore.

“What do you mean? People were talking to us all night,” Iwa said gently as he watched Ushi slowly drawing into himself once more.

“No. People were talking to you all night, Hajime,” Ushijima explained slowly and calmly in that precise way he did. Simply stating facts without adding any extra fluff to it. “After introductions I was not needed for much more conversation. Sawamura spoke to me a bit before Kuroo’s antics drew him away, but apart from that… I wasn’t able to join in to the same conversations as everyone else. I… wasn’t sure how to and I fear they didn’t know how to include me either.”

Iwa frowned deeply as he heard that and shook his head. “Why didn’t you say anything? You know if you were feeling uncomfortable or lonely all you needed to do was say something,” he offered as Ushijima shook his head.

“You were enjoying yourself, Hajime. I do not wish to keep you from your friends and former teammates simply because I can’t be as… outgoing as the rest of you. I anticipated that there would be some hesitance to talk to me. It’s something I am used to. I just… let it get to me a bit more this evening then I should have. And I didn’t want to say anything because I did not wish to upset you, which I can see I have already done.”

“Of course, I’m upset! I just found out that I was enjoying a party where my boyfriend was being ignored by not just my friends, but by me too!” Iwa said, growling a bit for being so caught up in catching up with his old friends that he hadn’t even noticed how uncomfortable or lonely Ushi had gotten. And he got it. He did. Most of the guys there had been Ushijima’s rivals in some way or another and yeah, he was a bit intimidating, but that shouldn’t have been any reason not to talk to him.

Iwaizumi pulled himself from his own thoughts as he felt Ushi moving away from where his hand was still cupping his jaw, watching as the former Ace took a step back with his head bowed. “I’m sorry, Hajime. I promise it was never my intention to ruin this night for you,” the taller man whispered and if Iwa thought his heart had felt broken before it was shattered here and now.

Quickly stepping forward he wrapped his arms around Ushijma’s chest and hugged him close, wishing for not the first time that he was taller so he could coddle this gentle giant of a man.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Ushijima,” Iwa whispered against the man’s chest, feeling the way he was frozen against him. “I am the one that needs to apologize. I knew that going there we were going to be seeing more of my friends than yours. And I also know that you aren’t a social butterfly, which is not a bad thing in the slightest. No one can be like Bo or Kuroo in that category. But I should’ve remembered that and made sure to include you more. I was unfair to you. And for that I am very, very sorry.”

Iwa could feel the way Ushijima’s breath hitched in his chest for a moment before finding his partner’s arms wrapping around him in return. “But from now on please don’t hesitate to say something to me. Okay, love? I want you to be happy and comfortable too. Just because everyone was talking to me doesn’t mean that I don’t want to spend time with you too.”

Iwa could feel the way Ushi nodded above him, effectively nuzzling into his hair and making him chuckle a little at the contact. “And look! Now it’s just going to be you and me on Christmas, pretty nice, eh? You’ll have me all to yourself. Isn’t that the greatest gift of all?” he asked gently, hoping to lighten the mood even more as he gave Ushi a soft squeeze around his middle.

“Yes. It is the best gift,” the taller man murmured softly and Iwa was incredibly grateful to be able to hide against Ushi’s chest for a moment because how could someone this sweet actually exist?! The blush on his cheeks needed to calm down a bit before he could even pretend to try and say anything back.

“There is still one thing though, Ushi,” Iwa murmured against the soft sweater once he had composed himself, trying hard not to smile too much.

“Oh? What is that, Hajime?” Ushi asked, leaning back so he could look down at his smaller partner.

“Well… I promised that I would fix this problem, but I don’t think it’ll be truly fixed until I see that smile of yours,” Iwa said gently, leaning back a little and looking up at Ushi with a playful glint in his eyes.

Ushijima’s brow furrowed slightly at that and he shook his head. “But, I’m fine? And I did smile. You were just hiding against my chest so you didn’t see it,” he stated simply, making Iwa blush. He refused to seem embarrassed by this, however, as Ushi continued to talk. “You don’t have to fix anything, Iwa. I promise I’m okay.”

“Hmm… I don’t know,” Iwa murmured to himself, letting his hands drift down to rest against Ushi’s sides. His thumbs began to soothe little circles against the soft fabric of his sweater as he pretended to be deep in thought. “Can I really take your word for that? You told me you were fine earlier when really you weren’t. So perhaps you are only telling me you were smiling when really you weren’t? See my dilemma?” Iwa could feel Ushi’s sides flinching slightly under his soft touch and he couldn’t stop his smile from growing. He could also see the dawning realization appearing on Ushi’s face and the way his boyfriends lips started to curve up into a nervous smile was one of the most precious things he’d ever seen. “Iwa? Hajime? There is no need for thi-hihis! No! I promise I was smihihilihi-nohohoho!” Ushi’s arms instantly moved down, his hands trying to hold onto Iwa’s wrists to push them away.

Hearing those wonderful giggles starting to bubble up and seeing the smile appearing had Iwa smiling in return, his fingers still managing to lightly scribble against the man’s sides. “What? What was that, Ushi? I’m sorry I can’t hear you, I’m busy trying to get you to smile,” he teased, sending quickly little tickles first to one of Ushi’s sides then the other as the man shimmied back and forth between his hands.

Ushi’s cheeks flushed at that as he tried to bite back the giggles that continued to escape him. “B-But I ahaham! I’m smihihiling, Iwahaha!” he laughed, trying to take a few steps back to the stairs.

Hajime found himself chuckling as he watched the man and decided that while his darling Ushi was definitely smiling, he wasn’t willing to stop his antics just yet.

“I don’t know. You said I’m not great at fixing things so this time I have to be incredibly thorough,” Iwa teased, his fingers moving up a little higher under Ushi’s weak grip and starting to massage into his lower ribs.

The former Shiratorizawa Ace jumped at the sensation, his arms clamping to his sides as he shook his head. “Wahahahait! Wait, Hahahajime!” Ushi laughed brightly, his cheeks now a lovely rose color as he continued to try and wriggle free. “Yo-You dihihihid it!”

Iwa couldn’t help laughing more as he saw his wiggly darling, and sadly it was enough to distract him and allow his partner to break free. As soon as Ushijima saw his chance he turned, quickly trying to make his way up the steps to their apartment as frantic giggling still escaped him. “Y-You’re a mahahahanster!” Ushi called behind him, the somber atmosphere from before dissipating in the ridiculousness and playfulness of this moment.

Standing at the base of the stairs, Iwa couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in his chest from watching his boyfriend finally smiling properly once more. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?! I’m trying to fix the smile problem!” Iwa called after Ushijima, letting him get a few more steps ahead before finally giving chase.

“I’m smiling! You don’t have to d-do this, H-Hajimehehe!” Ushijima called back, zipping in through their front door and already making a mad dash for the living room.

Iwa chuckled as he made it into the apartment, zeroing in on his darling and realizing he was trying to put the sofa between them as some sort of buffer.

“Oh no you don’t!” Iwa cried out, reaching for the back of Ushi’s sweater, his fingers just brushing the material and making the larger man squeak. Something Iwa never would’ve thought Ushijima was capable of all those years ago before they got to know each other. Now, it was something else he got to add to his list of things he loved about this man.

“I’m smiling! I’m smiling I pr-promihihise!” Ushijima laughed as he tried to get around to the other side of the sofa, but while Ushijima definitely had some power behind him he was a big man. Iwa had agility on his side and was going to use it to his full advantage!

The moment came when Ushijima attempted to maneuver himself between the coffee table and the sofa, the space just a little too tight for him to keep up his momentum. And this was when Iwa finally took his chance and pounced… literally.

With just a few large strides to get him to the right distance, Iwa launched himself at his boyfriend, tackling him down onto the sofa in one big heap. Ushijima definitely hadn’t been expecting such an attack if the loud yelp was anything to go by. But there was no mistaking the moment he realized his doom was nigh as he began to wriggle under Iwa attempting to roll him over as the former Aoba Johsai Ace settled on Ushi’s back.

“Iwaizumi! Iwa! You fixed i-it! You already fihihiHIHIHI! NOHOHOHOAHAHA!” Ushijima’s hysterical laughter instantly filled their small apartment as Iwa’s fingers found their mark, sneaking under the poor man’s arms as he’d been attempting to pull himself up by the arm of the sofa. In a matter of moment’s Ushi’s arms had come crashing back down to his sides, trapping Hajime’s hands against his worst spot.

“I already did what, Ushi? I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that?” Iwa cooed, settling himself more comfortably on Ushi’s back. His fingers scribbled lightly right in the center of his poor boyfriend's underarms, earning him a ridiculous squeal followed by the loudest belly laughter yet.

“Plehe-hic-hehehase! N-no mohohohoha-hic-hahaha!” Ushijima cackled, attempting to both curl up and flail as Iwa’s fingers began to massage deep circles right under his armpits against his upper ribs.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he cooed, ducking down to murmur playfully against Ushi’s ears and giggling a bit as the man squeaked at the slightly ticklish sensation. He’d forgotten how sensitive his sweethearts ears could be and pressed a few quick, tickly kisses against the shell of his rosy ear. Ushi absolutely jumped at each press of his lips, giggling so adorably hard between his laughter that his voice began to rise in pitch.

“Yehehehe-NOHOHohohoahahahaha!” Ushi began to say before Iwa decided to be a bit of a butt, ducking down to blow a raspberry against the back of the poor man's neck as his hands wriggled free from under his arms. In a flash they were on the move too. Sneaking down to make their way under the man’s sweater to tease and scribble against his sides and the sides of his tum that he could reach from where his boyfriend was lying on the sofa.

“No? You’re not sure? Well then I guess I should continue, right?” Iwa chuckled as Ushi shook his head, turning it so that Iwa could now definitely see that there was a smile on his darling’s face. A warm, carefree smile filled with laughter that made Iwa’s heart feel light and so full of love he didn’t know how he was able to contain it all for this man. “I’ll ask one more time… are you sure that I was able to fix this?”

“Ye-hic-hehehehes, Hahahajimehehehehe!” Ushijima squeaked one last time before his laughter fell silent.

With one last raspberry to the side of Ushi’s neck and a teasing flutter of his fingers to the man's lower ribs, Iwa finally stopped his attack. His hands began to sooth softly along Ushijima’s sides as he felt his boyfriend slowly starting to get his breath back. “You okay, love?” Iwa murmured softly, feeling the way Ushi panted and giggled breathlessly beneath him.

“I… I-I ahaham,” Ushijima wheezed, giving a little shake of his head though his eyes closed now from the adrenaline rush and the mini attack. “You… really dihidn’t have to do that.”

Iwa chuckled at that and ducked down to kiss the back of the man’s head. “I think I did. Because now you can’t keep that smile off your face,” Iwa teased gently, getting a tired chuckle from his partner in return. “But I hope you know that I really am sorry for earlier. Your happiness and comfort is one of the most important things to me, Ushi. Never be afraid to talk to me about anything or to let me know how you’re feeling. I want to make sure you always feel welcome, happy and content.”

“Thank you, Hajime,” Ushi whispered back after a moment, his voice sounding just a little thicker and Iwa moved so he could lay down on his partner, hugging him softly where he nestled against his back.

“You never have to thank me for that, Ushijima. I love you. And I’ll always be there to fix whatever troubles you,” Iwa promised softly, leaning over slightly to catch Ushijima’s eyes before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Now… why don’t we get settled with some hot cocoa and some holiday movies before bed?” he asked, pressing one more kiss to Ushi’s nose before carefully sitting up and climbing off the taller man.

Ushi’s nose crinkled at the light kiss and he smiled more as he sat up. “As long as we don’t have to watch ‘Home Alone” again. It is not the holiday classic you think it is,” Ushi said softly as he stood and made his way toward the kitchen.

Iwa gasped at that, covering his mouth in mock horror. “How can you say that?! It literally takes place during Christmas!” he asked, following his boyfriend into the kitchen.

“Yes, but it’s about home invaders attempting to break in only to be stopped by a small child who was forgotten by his parents. That is not a Christmas movie. That’s a bad parenting movie.”

“Hey! If you want to start poking holes in holiday movies, why don’t we take a look at some of your favorite, hmm? Does ‘Rise Of The Guardians’ ring any bells?”

“Yes. Christmas bells. For it has Santa as a main character. Your movie has a pizza delivery man and a tarantula.”

The rest of the evening was filled with easy banter, cocoa, movies and Iwa realizing that even though there were many things he could fix and many reasons to love Ushi… the man’s movie tastes might actually be something he would have to admit defeat on.

But as long as he could still see that wonderful smile, he would be more than happy to.

[willadisastercry]

When the dust clears and you almost wish it hadn’t...

tw: emetophobia warning (brief but there), depictions of being trapped/pinned, broken bone, head injury, blood, threat of being crushed, threat of drowning.

The paladins respond to a distress signal on a foreign planet and make quick work of getting its civilians to safety, but on their last sweep surface side, shit hits the fan. Pidge and Lance are hurt but Shiro is trapped and can’t help them. On top of that, the conditions they’re stuck in are only getting worse. With no access to the coms and no tools to help them, the trio is forced to get creative and make some sacrifices.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Dust rained down in a continuous sheet, the tiny particles lit up in beams where the brightness of the day outside peaked through the mottled roof of debris now sheltering them. It seeped through their shattered visors and cacked their lungs making whatever ragged breaths they took after they realized they’d finally stopped falling harsh and desperate.

Shiro was the only one who hadn’t been knocked out after the initial collapse, more just dazed in momentary shock from the suddenness of it all, his visor most in tact and his com emitting static output that would catch a few garbled words every now and then.

The planet they were on had sent out a distress signal when the galra outpost stationed in their solar system had somehow managed to pull their moons out of alignment, and like on earth, their moons had significant influence over their tides.

Before they arrived, the land had only been hit by minor floods but as soon as voltron and the castleship entered their atmosphere, the unruly currents ramped up tenfold and small tremors could be felt from somewhere deep underground.

The abnormal weather phenomena hadn’t yet delved into anything seismic, just tidal, but they’d only been planet-side for ten minutes before alarms started blaring and the locals emerged from their homes frantic and scared.

Evacuation via lion had actually gone relatively smoothly, the paladins able to relocate the citizens before the trembles of the shifting plates became truly dangerous.

It had started off pretty tame, the rumblings far between and only enough to shake the windows and trees. But they steadily amplified the longer the evacuation went on until shaking became shuddering and soon trees were swaying and buildings were groaning.

After everyone was loaded onto the castle outside of the planets orbit Pidge flew the green lion flew back down to the surface stowing Lance and a lionless Shiro. They were in charge of carrying out the final sweep to check for stragglers, though the only thing they’d actually found was themselves caught in the height of a particularly large quake.

They were in the city center attempting to make it back to Green who was stationed at the beginning of the tree line on the outskirts of the city, antsy and waiting. But they would never get there because the intense trembling brought them to the knees before they’d even caught sight of the lion.

It would’ve been alright if the solid ground they thought they were on was truly as solid as it appeared, but it wasn’t, because the cracks splitting the pavilion open splintered towards them before they could even cry out and then the last thing they could hear was a roar almost as deafening as the sound of the planet ripping apart beneath their feet.

The fall wasn’t long or else they wouldn’t be alive to choke on the sheer amount of crap in the air, their helmets not surviving the broken bits of sediment that accosted them on the decent, cracking their visors and damaging their com systems.

Though cumbersome and clunky, their paladin armor was also sturdy and could withstand the weight of the rubble they were more or less sandwiched in. Their suits were ultimately what saved their lives in the initial collapse but it beat their human bodies to hell in the process.

Their senses returned with the panic of not being able to breathe, the moment they realized the ground beneath them was rough with rubble and uneven uprooted earth that wasn’t quite earth audible, marked by disoriented cries of surprise at the debris still falling while the quake that brought them down tapered out.

Pidge and Shiro came back to themselves first, raucous coughs pulling each other to reality over their ringing ears as they worked to clear the soot from their mouths and lungs. It was hard work. The air was dense with all kinds of minuscule specks of ruin that silenced them for a good minute while they struggled against the dryness in their throats.

It was Pidge who tried to move first. She was slumped over a chunk of what used to be a stone pillar from the building that was sucked into the chasm of non-earth along with them, her legs tucked awkwardly beneath her. She stopped abruptly to let out a strangled wail when she went to push herself up.

She hadn’t felt much of anything when she first woke up, just incredibly dazed as she fought to open her eyes under the layer of dust encrusting them. But when she put pressure on her arms she discovered that something was seriously wrong with one of them, collapsing back onto the jagged piece of stone to writhe as pain shot through to her shoulder and seized her back.

“Pidge?”

She barely registered the crackle of a low voice from somewhere nearby, her mind entirely consumed by panicking over the pain she was in as well as the unknown regarding the extent of the injury.

“Pidge is that you? Are you okay?”

It clicked then that it was Shiro speaking but she didn’t have air in her lungs to produce any answer other than a panicked whimper, too afraid to lift herself off of the injured limb to see the damage and incite another wave of agony. She didn’t have enough air to handle that again, sucking down what she could in too large of quantities for such a limited supply.

Shiro was going through a similar mental battle, though the first thing dawning on him as he registered his new surroundings was that Pidge needed help, not his own physical wellbeing. So naturally, he’d tried to get up as soon as he heard her call out only to discover he couldn’t move much because he was sprawled on his back amongst an ever growing pile of debris, his prosthetic arm likely crushed to shit under a sizable slab of stone with smaller chunks pressing against his chest and legs.

He was sufficiently stuck, pinned in place and unable to get to her but forced to listen as her anguished sounds continued.

“Pidge I’m trapped, I can’t—shit, I can’t get to you. And I don’t have visual confirmation from Lance yet so you’re gonna have to work with me here... talk to me, where are you hurt? How bad does it look?”

The sound she contrived then was like the ones before, except not for her own misery, not entirely at least. Because that meant there was still no sign of life from Lance which meant there was a very real concern that there wouldn’t be which left Pidge having to pull herself together and search for him since Shiro was otherwise incapacitated.

This would be sucky and not ideal at all, but necessary.

”Pidge?!”

Logic told her that bones mend and that pain was fleeting. That agony would be temporary, fear too, and once she found Lance it would be better, bearable at least.

And so with that resolve she willed her breathing to slow enough to form a coherent statement.

“It’s my arm,” she huffed quickly, the shrillness in her voice evidence of the severity of the injury.

“Okay, can you move? Is there something on top of you?” Shiro asked calmly, his voice level and sympathetic.

“No, I’m on top of it... if-if I move again—“

“Take a breath, it’s probably broken.”

Clearly, but Pidge was already ten steps ahead, her brain grappling with the notion of whether stabbing pain meant safe compounded fracture or gruesome and bloody and open fracture that would make her sick if she even caught sight of her own arm like that.

She shuddered violently at the thought and bit back a gasp when it jostled whatever lay beneath her.

“You’re okay, just breathe... are you sitting or laying down?”

Still so calm, somehow. So incredibly practical and disarming. It was almost unnerving how well he could do that, compartmentalize everything.

“S-sitting, sort of.”

“How?”

Awkwardly, Shiro. The man might be terrifyingly apt at rationalizing the impossible but seemed utterly incompetent in predicting the obvious.

“Folded over a rock and using it as my pillow... all my weight is on it—on my arm,” she ammended with a gulp.

Shiro took his precious time turning this information over in his head and the radio silence almost had Pidge worrying he’d passed out until his voice came back somehow even more blunt and pragmatic than before.

“That’s better actually. What I need you to do is hold your arm in place with your good hand, press it to your chest and use your shoulder to lean on as you sit back again. It should be less agitating that way—“

Shiro’s gentle instruction was cut off by Pidge’s cry as she sat up and away from the slab of stone like he recommended, her vision whiting as she cradled her arm against herself.

When she could see properly again she found her curiousity too overwhelming and spared a look at the mangled limb.

It was both better and worse than she had imagined. The forearm component of her armor was hanging on in pieces and clearly displayed the horrifying mess that lay under what remained. No skin was broken, but the tip of her bone was very visibly poking the already swelling flesh where the middle of her forearm sported a new joint.

The sight was overwhelming and her breaths soon came in short pants, the threat of passing out suddenly very real.

“Good Pidge, that was great. Take a couple deep breaths for me while you adjust,” he asked gently, his voice taking on a more solemn tone now.

She already knew what was coming next and began rearranging her legs beneath her, several deep breaths required to clear the black dotting her vision before she was confident she could stand testing their strength without them turning jelly.

“I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but you need to find Lance... I’m not mobile and I haven’t heard him yet.”

“Already... on it,” she panted as she leaned on her knees before coming to a shakey stance.

The lighting was sparse in the pocket of nothing that the pavilion collapsed into after the fissure opened, barely enough to make out the terrain in front of her and then some. So she made her way slowly, toeing rocks and larger slabs before proceeding, checking for stability with every step as she slinked across the unnatural landscape.

“Follow my voice... I can hear you now... watch out for the crap still falling...”

Finding Shiro wasn’t difficult when his voice carried so well through the wreckage, even despite the shifting fauna and bits still crashing down and settling.

There hadn’t been another quake in the time that they’d woken up, but that only made finding Lance that much more important. If he hadn’t responded yet then it was more than likely he was pretty hurt, which would be even more dangerous for him to be alone if the rubble decided to rearrange itself.

“Hey...” Shiro laughed pitifully as she ducked under a slanted piece of stone to get to him.

Pidge saw his predicament immediately, he was looking at her from where he was propped up one elbow, his metal arm wedged underneath a piece of stone bigger than he was.

“Well, that’s not good,” she stated before coming down hard on one knee, clutching her arm extra close as she lowered herself to the floor for a better look.

“Let me see your arm,” he ordered in his leader voice, a futile attempt to deflect from his own issues.

“My arm is snapped, let me see if you still have one,” she countered expertly, pushing away his searching hand after once he’d laid back down try and examine the disfigured appendage now securely in her lap.

He sighed in defeat. Pidge had too many years of experience dodging brotherly coddling with Matt to concede to Shiro’s fretting and let him distract from her own triage efforts.

“How bad? Can’t really tell from this angle...”

“I’m not seeing much but there is quite a bit of space between the floor and the rock still so that’s kind of promising for the integrity of the prosthetic... let me get this crap off though—“

“No, you’re hurt don’t push yourself, it’s fine.”

But Pidge acted as if she hadn’t heard him and began to remove the rocks, turning over the more meager pieces of broken stone from his chest with her good hand.

“Pidge, it’s okay. I’m not hurt and you need to save your energy to look for—“

“Wait! Shut up...”

“Excuse me?!”

“Shhhh!”

Pidge held her hand up to Shiro’s face as she closed her eyes and listened for something. Shiro only heard a faint whooshing and a steady trickle until it happened again. A very guttural but human moan.

“Lance! Shit.”

“Go, he’s gotta be close, he was just beside me when we fell...”

Pidge moved swiftly, more nimble than she could’ve thought possible as she maneuvered around the rubble with only one arm to steady her.

“Lance, call out!”

Every time she moved her arm throbbed horribly, but slowing down was not an option, not when another quake was due and could occur at any moment.

“If you can hear me I need you to make a sound, throw something, anything!”

Her repeated shouts are what in the end got him to groan again, the sound of her pointed words coming closer making the pressure in his skull swell exponentially.

“That’s it, keep making noise...!”

As he tried to wake up and open his eyes he only succeeded in making himself more disoriented, the world seeming to spin even with his eyes squeezed shut.

It dawned on him then that closing his eyes when he had absolutely no idea what sort of life threatening situation he may or may not be in was a sort of really bad idea. He had no clue how he was oriented, no grasp of what was up or down, how his body was positioned, if he was hurt or not. He wasn’t even entirely sure he was alive but the second heart beat on the side of his head seemed to eventually convince him he was.

“Lance?!”

But then again the agony swirling around in his brain didn’t seem to care if it was stupid to close his eyes, nor did the intensity of the light above him that burned his retinas when he attempted to open them.

“Call out!”

Uh, no I will not, thank you very much.

Whoever was screaming in his face needed to learn some manners and stop. The sound pierced his ears like a thousand needles and traveled to the center of the heartbeat in his skull, another pathetic moan escaping his lips as he tried to reach for the spot.

“Oh, no—no, don’t do that.”

He was sprawled on his side, limbs askew and otherwise undamaged aside from his armor appearing nearly shredded in some places with how roughly he’d been tossed around in the fray. His helmet was missing and it took Pidge a few moments to locate it, almost wishing she hadn’t once she did.

The left side was dented, the visor cracked so severely that there was nothing but a few jagged shards left of it.

“You’re okay, I’m here Lance, it’s Pidge.”

Lance didn’t care that it was Pidge, she was screaming at him and it was making him nauseous. He couldn’t understand why she insisted on being so loud when he had such a bad headache or why she held his wrist so tightly.

“You’ve got a pretty nice gash there—” she muttered, her restricting hand releasing him to turn his head to the side “—a nice few gashes, actually.”

He must have made a protesting sound at the movement because she stopped and cupped his cheek instead, using the top of her thumb to wipe the tears making their way to his chin.

“Hey, you’re gonna be alright. Can you open you’re eyes at all?”

“Mmmmm.”

“Can you try? Only for a second, I just need to see something. C’monnnn, don’t you want to see my pretty face?”

He made a softer sound then and his eyelids began to flutter as he tried to pry them open, wincing at how painful even the dim lighting was once he did.

“Good, that’s good. Okay, I’m just gonna help you out here, don’t be scared...” she said as she moved her thumb and pointer finger to prop open one eyelid at a time and keep them still so she could get a good look.

His pupils were blown which was probably why opening them hurt so bad, more light was coming in than should be which couldn’t feel nice for his clearly rattled brain.

“Kay, all done... I think you have a concussion, but nothing else seems to be wrong aside from the still gushing head and facial wounds. Can you keep your hand there do you think? ” she asked as she brought it to where the bleeding was worst and pressed down, illiciting a hiss but no other resistance as he held it place.

“Great, you’re doing so great. I know you probably feel really out of it but we need to get you over to where Shiro is... and my arms kinda busted so I can only give you one hand...”

His groaning halted for a moment to let loose a low whine as he tried to open his eyes long enough to look at what she meant, his face scrunching up with concern when he finally managed to.

“You-your arm... s’hurt...” he choked out, more a restatement than a question, his tongue unwilling and his energy spent as he tried to form something coherent.

“Yeah, as I said, busted. But don’t worry about that now, just give me your hand.”

Lance seemed a bit confused at her command so she took up the hand that was limp at his side and moved it to his lap where she could reposition her own at his elbow.

“This is gonna be a tad tricky so just work with me, okay?”

He grunted a sort of ‘uh huh’ and returned with his own grip on her upper arm.

“I’m gonna stand up and lean back, when I do you’re gonna lean forward and stand with me...” Pidge detailed as she moved his legs so that they were bent towards his chest and in front of him.

It wasn’t that he was immobile. The rest of his body was free of visible injuries but his brain and his limbs seemed to be on different frequencies for the time being, the channels of communication disconnected and not taking signals from one another making his movements sluggish and sloppy.

“Okay, ready? Alright, up we go...”

What happened next was anything other than graceful. As soon as Lance was upright he lilted into Pidge who fixed her stance as he stumbled to keep standing, his grip tight on her arm and his weight almost entirely on her hip as he held his throbbing head.

“You good? Here, arm around my neck, just don’t touch my arm... there ya go. We’ll go slow, it’s not far,” she assured as she began to walk forward, Lance following in his own sort of zigzag next to her.

They made their way excruciatingly slow. Pidge moved with care, constantly analyzing the most doable path to lead Lance into, stepping on top of and over boulder sized bits of stone as he continued on whatever even ground she could find.

It was only when she was tapping her toe behind his knee to get it to buckle that he was aware they’d made it. He hadn’t heard Pidge asking him to sit, didn’t even register her hand on his face as he fought with the terrible heat on the side of his head that threatened to make his stomach act on how unsettled it was.

He let out a breathless ‘oh’ as his butt connected with the ground, a layer of recently upturned dust rising after him. Once he was safely seated Shiro removed his hand from his back from where he’d been assisting the transition.

“Shiroo...!?!” he gushed, the word sloshing in his mouth.

“Hey, Lance.”

Though he knew his friend’s demeanor was the result of a pretty gnarly head injury, Shiro couldn’t help but let a fond smile appear at his almost childlike vocalization.

“How ya feeling?”

“Oh, not good I think, right Pidge?—yeah, really not good...”

“Concussion, I checked,” Pidge provided after Shiro took Lance’s bloody hand away from the source of the bleeding to check the damage out for himself.

“That looks painful,” Shiro sympathized before returning his hand to the spot as gently as he could.

Lance processed that his hand had made contact again about ten seconds after which seemed to send his head realing because the next moment he was choking back a gag.

“Crap, it’s alright if you need to throw up. Just get it out, don’t hold it in,” Shiro ushered, his hand moving to Lance’s arm as he doubled over himself, his throat clenching against the bile rising and he sputtered.

He was sufficiently out of sorts and could hardly hold on to a coherent thought but he knew that he did not want to throw up. Not here in front of his friends, especially Shiro.

But the wave of nausea that was making his stomach cramp and his head throb was overshadowed by the sound of something crashing, like a stack of precariously placed objects falling over abruptly except much louder and followed by a sustained gush.

“Shiro..?”

The trepidation in Pidge’s voice made her sound so much younger, like how she did before Shiro left for Kerberos.

At the same time that fear erupted in his friend’s chests, saliva welled up in Lance’s mouth and he let out a pitiful sound, the new commotion having him seeing stars with how angrily his head pulsed from it.

“It’s probably just rubble settling, can you see anything?”

Pidge moved towards the biggest source of light from where the surface above them split apart, the scene hazy through clouds of dust and substantially obscured by larger breakages of sediment. She lifted herself onto her toes to try and makes sense of the destruction around them.

“No...”

Pidge couldn’t see much through the chalky blackness, just hints of structures here and there.

“There’s nothing there—oh.”

The gushing sound seemed to pull to the forefront of the concerning noises then, like a geyser of something had erupted and was emptying itself out into the chasm that had opened up beneath them and swallowed them down. This was concerning for a lot of reasons.

“Yeah, never mind we are so fucked.”

Lance wasn’t even trying to follow the progression of events going on around him, listening intently enough to make sense of a single sentence worsening the pressure behind his eyes while he stomach continued to flip.

The acid taste coming up his throat was putrid, but mixed with a grating layer of dust irritating the back of his throat, the presence of it while already massively disoriented was overwhelming.

“What is it?-crap Lance. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Shiro soothed, his hand secure on the other boy’s back while his frame shook from retching so hard.

“Pipe must’ve burst, well I guess not a pipe, more like a main...”

“A main? As in a water main?”

“Yes,” Pidge deadpanned, using her good hand to steady herself against a taller shred of stone as she continued evaluating just how fucked they were.

Shiro gulped, convinced he could actually feel the tons of weight on top of his foreign prosthetic growing heavier the longer he remained wedged under it.

“How much is coming in?”

He could hear it clearer now, like the rumble in your ears when wind rushed past them.

“Too much...”

With a hiccoughing whine, Lance pitched forward, nearly collapsing into the puddle of his own sick as he continued to gag.

“Woah, okay! You’re alright, I’ve got you... just do what you have to do bud.”

Shiro’s free hand on the center of Lance’s chest was the only thing keeping him upright as he worked through the rolling waves of dizzying nausea.

Pidge spared a cursory glance towards her friend, watching how his shoulders worked as he heaved for a moment before returning back to her internal spiral.

“Coms are wrecked but they’re out of range so it’s not like that really matters anyway... the air is pretty thin already, but the longer we’re down here the less viable o2 there’s going to be... and the crater we’re in is flooding so the more pressing issue is—”

“Pidge,” Shiro drawled slowly, his tone placating as he watched her pace back and forth, images of Matt doing the same thing surfacing in his mind as she did.

She might resemble her brother in appearance but their personalities for the most part could not be more opposite. Though during his time in the castle of lions Shiro had found that they actually share a lot of the same nervous mannerisms.

He knew Pidge probably had no idea how similar their actions are and he’s sort of glad only he does, suspecting the knowledge would only make her sad.

The only issue with this discovery is the fact that even though her reaction isn’t new to Shiro, dealing with it was, and once Pidge’s mind started working it was hard to get it to stop.

Lance was winding down then. His breaths still heavy and uneven, the stream of blood down his neck and front steady as ever, but he wasn’t gagging anymore.

“You’re arm is... fucked, my arm is fucked, and Lance’s head! Oh god, this is—“

“Calm down, we can figure this out.”

She spun on him abruptly enough that Shiro was scared for a second she might’ve given herself whiplash.

“Calm down?! How do you expect me to do that when we’re going to be underwater in an hour, hell maybe even a couple of minutes?!”

Lance’s shoulders seemed to slump somehow further from the volume of her voice and Shiro took a second before launching into his response to help him sit back on his heels and away from the vomit.

“No, I’m going to be underwater. You and Lance are going to start walking, climbing, whatever it is you have to do to get to higher ground—“

“Yeah okay, fuck that. We’re not leaving you—uh buh bah, save whatever case you were gonna make because I’ll promptly stop listening.”

The visage of Matt retreated entirely with Pidge’s indiscretion, her words seeding with irritation as she shut Shiro down.

“Pidge!”

“I’m so very sorry for my attitude but you really did just pitch us leaving you to drown, are you really that surprised?”

Shiro took a practiced breath, the kind he uses to ground himself because the pit in his chest was expanding and the last thing they needed was him devolving into panic.

He eyed the way Lance swayed as he sat with his legs splayed on either side of him, his hands limp in his lap and coated in blood from the gash on his head.

“You can’t stay here, not when Lance is hurt like this.”

“Okay.”

“Huh? Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. If you want to waste your energy trying to convince me to let you die, then that’s whatever because the reality is that you’re the one stuck under a rock and I’m the only one whose mobile. This is very much my call. Sorry big guy, but we’re sticking around.”

Shiro actually laughed.

He couldn’t ignore the way that his heart filled with admiration at Pidge’s defiance but it was overwhelmed by the burden of the fact that no matter how much pride he had in her for stepping up, he was still trapped and they were still going to watch him die.

He shuddered and Lance hummed at the movement, wondering vaguely if Shiro was hurt at all before the thought disappeared and the only thing he could remember was how insanely painful the knot on the side of his head was and how heavy his aching body felt.

“M’tired... think I’m gonna... mmmh, gonna lay down,” he managed with some concentration and put his hands on the ground to brace himself but didn’t make any further moves, his face scrunching up in confusion as he struggled to figure out how to maneuver himself down when his arms were so difficult to control and his head pulsed blindingly any time he moved.

“You can’t go to sleep yet, dude. Just sit with Shiro for now, I need you to keep an eye on him for me anyway,” Pidge instructed with a grin.

Shiro huffed and narrowed his eyes but it only made her smirk widen.

“W-why? Is Shiro hurt?” Lance asked worriedly, forgetting himself entirely and attempting to twist around to see.

The gravity of the action caught up with him a beat later, the groan that bubbled in his chest ungodly.

“Easy there, hot shot, I’m okay. Just a little stuck,” Shiro assured, stilling him with a firm hand on his shoulder when the surge of pain had him tipping nearly over.

“Kay... s’good,” he noted through clenched teeth before his eyes fluttered shut and his head began to lower to his chest.

A sharp pain from where Shiro flicked the side of his cheek that wasn’t cut up and coated in blood roused Lance from his attempt to rest.

“Ow. Rude.”

“Not rude, necessary. There’s no napping on the job.”

“I’m so tired though... just wanna sleep... you guys are so mean... why can’t I just—“

“Nope. You’ve gotta keep your eyes open for me bud,” Shiro chided, shaking his shoulder gruffly enough to have his bloodshot eyes shooting open.

“But why?” he slurred, the exasperation in his whine sort of heartbreaking, “I could just nap through... the worst of this, it’d be... it’d be so nice... wouldn’t hurt so much...”

“Since when are you all about what’s easy, you’re like the most stubborn human I know?”Shiro asked, his voice full of fondness.

“And you get enough beauty rest as it is, lover boy, you’ll live if you miss a few hours.”

The rushing water filled the ambient silence while Pidge made her way back to her friends from her watch post amongst the rubble.

“Are... we?”

Lance’s voice was a broken whisper, the gravel in it a painful attribution to the stress his throat had been put under between the abuse of the acid in the bile and coarse texture of the dust.

“Are we what, Lance?”

“Live... are we gonna live?”

The gush of moving water rose up in Shiro’s ears like roaring wind again but stronger this time, effectively tunneling his attention on those words, the innocence of them.

“Of course we are—“

“I want it on the record that I, Pidge Gunderson, am making no such promises.”

“PIDGE!”

“So loud... please... shhh...” Lance cried desperately, his hands almost comically slow to rise and cover his ears.

“WHAT?! I’m being honest!”

“You’re being negative!”

“Coming from the guy who just told me to leave him for dead!”

The fire in both paladins eyes was burning so brightly Lance could’ve sworn there was an actual glow with how horribly his head was beginning to hurt from listening to them.

“Alright, I might’ve had a moment of doubt, but we can’t—“

“Stop shaking me Shiro...” Lance whimpered as he drew his knees up to his chest carefully “—it hurts... please quit it...”

This broke the two out of their heated argument.

“I’m not touching you, Lance...”

“Then t-tell whoever is... to fucking stop!”

His chest hitched pitifully when punctuating the last bit with a pleading whine had his head swimming in vengeance. If it weren’t for the stability of hugging his propped up legs so tightly he would’ve fallen over with how dizzy he was.

Pidge looked at Shiro as if he’d know any better than her what the hell he was talking about.

Unfortunately for the both of them, he did not.

“Deep breaths, Lance. You’re probably just disoriented, it’s normal for head injuries to mess with your sense of balance and equilibrium—“

“Shiro...?”

He was beginning to hate hearing his name being called when it was almost always followed by something he really wouldn’t enjoy hearing.

“Yeah, Pidge?”

But she didn’t have to continue because he felt it then.

A steady thrumming from somewhere below.

A rumble.

“Quiznak...”

[cheonjeolmi]

You Belong to Me

Request Status: Open !!

Pairing: Hange x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1276

A/N: requested by @xijjhkbhk​ ! thank you for the wait <33 I hope it’s to your liking ! as always requests are open, anyways go stream Fearless (Taylor’s Version) 

Warning: slight nsfw, possessive / angry Hange, and kidnapping sort of (?)

It was mealtime and you were sitting with Hange, Erwin, and Levi, you all eating while Hange rambled on about their latest findings in their experiments. 

Levi simply scoffed and pointed out Hange’s obsession with titans, leaving you looking at Hange, listening to every word they said in total concentration. Though your concentration had been broken when you heard someone call your name.

“Y/N?” you turned to your side where the voice was and were greeted by Petra giving you a small smile.

“Oh, sorry! How can I help you Petra?” you offered them a small smile as she asked if you could assist her in teaching the new recruits, but before you could respond Hange stood up and slammed the table, now fed up as they watched the scene unfold, letting their possessiveness get the best of them.

The chatter around the mess hall suddenly quieted down, as everyone was now looking at the source of the loud noise. Hange smiled though you could tell it was forced and was practically seething in anger on the inside and you looked between Petra then to Hange as you connected the dots.

They were being possessive over you and you simply smirked, loving every moment of this, making you start to wonder what direction this situation was headed in. 

You gazed at Hange who was looking at you and you wondered what they’d do next. Hange moved over to your side at the table and forcefully grabbed your arm, tugging you along as they stomped over to the exit of the mess hall, the two of you leaving the hall filled with awkward silence.

They still held onto your arm as they turned a corner, the silence was deafening, so you decided to have some fun with their current state.

“Hange..? Are you alright? What happened there..” you feigned innocence as they stopped in their trail. Bingo. 

Hange turned to face you, their amber eyes were dark with lust and primal hunger. The way they were glaring at you made you squirm in place, loving the fierceness their eyes possessed at that moment. 

A gasp erupted from your mouth as they pinned you against the wall, easily securing both of your wrists in their hand. 

“Don’t think you can give me that bullshit. You know exactly what this is about.” they sneered, their gaze flitting from your eyes to your lips. 

You noticed their little action, knowing they were withholding themselves from losing control and kissing you right then and there. Though, you wanted to challenge them. You wanted to test how far you could push them until their breaking point, an idea popped into your head.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Hange. Care to tell me what’s bothering you?” you looked into their eyes and gave them a small pout, trying to make them lose their control. 

Oh, the thoughts you’ve conjured up were far, far from innocent.

“What’s bothering me you ask?” they moved closer to whisper into your ear and you shuddered in pleasure as their breath now fanned across the side of your neck. “Have you forgotten who owns you?” they asked though it came out more as a statement, Hange’s free hand gripped your chin as they forcefully made you look up to look them in the eyes. 

“..I think I’m gonna need a...reminder” you challenged which seemed to make their desires flare up and you could feel them almost slipping up at this moment. 

Hange’s eyes widened in surprise at your forwardness but once it faded, the control within themselves had snapped as their hand that was on your chin turned it to the side, as they attacked and sucked at your neck in different places, pulling away knowing the hickeys were bound to come up any second.

“There’s your reminder, darling. You best not forget it, or else.” Hange muttered into your ear, before letting go of your wrists as they walked off, leaving you to support yourself against the wall, otherwise you’d have fallen onto the floor. God, you loved when they would be possessive.

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

The next day, you were out on the training grounds, until Reiner approached you.

“Y/N, come with me. I need to tell you something” he said, his eyes showing complete seriousness, whatever he had to say was something important.

“Oh, Reiner, could it wait a bit? I’m sorta busy right now, and Petra asked me to help her train the new recruits with the ODM gear. I promise once I’m done I’ll tend to you” you said going back to your training, silently hoping Reiner would leave.

“No, Y/N I- it's important, please. Just come with me!” Reiner grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, running away to take you to a secluded area.

“Reiner!? What the fuck are you doing? Where are you taking me-!” you squirmed, trying to get out of his hold but you failed since he was much stronger than you.

“I promise I won’t hurt you, Y/N. I just need to tell you something” he said as the two of you reached a clearing in the forest, using his gear to climb up a tree, landing on the branch. He let you down and you were met with Reiner and Bertholdt, Reiner looking serious while Bertholdt’s expression seemed more nervous about whatever Reiner was going to say.

“So Reiner mind telling me why the fuck you literally kidnapped me? What’s this about and why’s Bertholdt here-?” you were starting to get annoyed with him and hoped someone would save you so you could get away from them.

“Y/N..I’m the armored titan- and Bertholdt’s the colossal titan” he stated as he looked in your direction. You stared at him back in disbelief and slight anger laughing at the little joke he was playing, 

“Seriously Reiner? What are you playing at? You, the armored titan and Bertholdt, the colossal titan?” you scoffed “That’s why you kidnapped me? To play a joke?” you were now practically furious and you wished you had your gear with you so you could leave, but you didn’t.

“It’s true, Y/N. I really am the armor-“ Reiner spoke before getting cut off by the distant sounds of the ODM gear approaching your location.

You saw a distant figure, swinging from the trees at breakneck speed, you squint your eyes trying to see who was coming towards you, your eyes widened recognizing their brown hair and specialized goggles that were their trademark. It was Hange.

“Hange!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, trying to signal them of where you were which they heard as the sounds of the ODM gear grew closer.

“Y/N! You’re not hurt anywhere are you?!” Hange screamed as they landed beside you, glaring daggers at Reiner and Bertholdt as they pulled you closer to them.

“No, I’m fine Hange” you smiled, hoping to calm them down as angry Hange was a sight that would make anyone tremble in fear, even Levi was shocked the first time he saw them angry.

“They didn’t hurt you did they?” Hange asked, “If they hurt a single hair on your head, I’ll throw them off from the walls and kill them.” voice laced with venom, as they rested their goggles on their forehead, everything about them screaming bloody murder.

“Hange, it’s alright I’m fine now. Let’s just go” they looked at you and nodded, placing their goggles back on their face, carrying you bridal style as they whisked you away to safety as you leaned more into them now feeling safe within their arms

[unpack-my-heart]

This is the first thing I’ve written for the Shameless fandom, but I am utterly besotted with tomato-obsessed-vegetable-growing Ian Gallagher and so wrote this! 

He was out there again. This time, he was wearing bright yellow rubber gloves that went right up to his elbows, and they were covered in soft-looking dirt. He’s got a streak of dirt on his face too, powdery, from where he’d presumably wiped the back of his hand across his forehead.  His almost-too-orange hair shon brilliantly in the oppressive July sunshine, and Mickey watched as beads of sweat, almost imperceptible, slid down the side of his face.

It was the third time this week that Red has been out there, elbow-deep in mud, or tenderly caressing the lacey tufts of green shooting out of the ground. Sometimes, Red will tug on the tufts, and the soil will give birth to a misshapen carrot, much smaller than the type Mickey buys at the supermarket that come shrink-wrapped in rustly plastic, but Red doesn’t seem to care. He beamed at every fucking carrot as if he’d never seen one before, as if that carrot was the best, most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on in his entire life.

Mickey watched him as he sprayed something from an unmarked spray bottle onto tomato vines that twist and turn, vein-like, up a beaten-up old trellis. Plump, bulbous tomatoes hung from their stalks, and Mickey watched, feeling more and more voyeuristic, as Red plucked one from the vine and popped it into his mouth. Red chewed slowly, methodically, before smiling, all too wide and with tomato pulp mushed between his teeth. It should be disgusting, and yet, as Mickey watched the blissed-out smile reach Red’s eyes, papery skin crinkling, it’s not. Not anywhere close.

When Mickey moved into the apartment building, he’d barely noticed the garden. The apartment was cheap, suspiciously cheap, but Mickey couldn’t afford to be suspicious. So, when the greasy and smelt-like-onions letting agent had shoved the wad of paper under his nose, he’d signed on the dotted-fucking-line.

“It’s in an up-and-coming area, you know. You’re getting a real steal here, and it’s a ground floor property, no hauling heavy goods up the stairs,” the letting agent had said, tugging at the limp, flaccid tie around his neck.

Mickey had just rolled his eyes and shoved the papers back. “Save the fucking speech.”

It had taken him a pitiful two trips with Iggy’s busted up old pickup to schlep all of his worldly possessions from one side of Chicago to the other. A couple of soggy cardboard boxes filled with miscellaneous crap, a pair of practically broken but still just-about useable kitchen chairs, and a mattress with not a single functioning spring. When Iggy left, pickup grumbling down the street, Mickey had sent Mandy a picture of the chairs stood pathetically in the middle of the otherwise empty room.

She’d sent back a string of laughing emojis, at least when i come and visit i won’t be sitting on the fuckin’ floor

It took Mickey another three weeks to accumulate enough second-hand furniture to pass as a genuinely functioning adult, and by that point, he’d barely opened his blinds, never mind noticed the stretch of scrubland that barely passed for a communal garden that stretched out beyond the confines of his bedroom window. It was by accident that Mickey had happened to open the blinds just as Red was strutting past his window, wrestling with an enormous bag of soil. The soil slipped out of his arms and Red cursed, loud and long enough that it startled a grunt out of a bemused Mickey.

“Fuckin’ shit, fuckin’ slippery bastard, fuckin’ all over my fuckin’ boots! Jesus fuck.”

Hands twitching, Mickey watched as the orange-haired man, resigned to his muddy timberlands, kicked the rapidly emptying bag of soil, before grabbing it with both hands and tugging it along the floor, leaving it to rest in front of three large, raised vegetable beds. Red squatted down and ran his hands over the surface of the soil, head cocked inquisitively.

Mickey stared at the man, hand resting on the window pane, ready to pull it shut and get on with the rest of his day, but before he could, and without warning, Red looked up.

Red looked up, stared directly at Mickey’s swiftly reddening face, and waved.

Feeling like he’d been caught with his hands down his pants by his third-grade English teacher, Mickey slammed the window shut and pulled the blind across, a vital extra layer of protection from the outside.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” Mickey scolded himself, before purposefully striding out of the bedroom, and slamming the door behind him, resigned to not re-enter the room until he was quite sure that Red had gone.

The next day, after Mickey had dragged his aching bones back from the chop shop, engine oil and miscellaneous grease coating his hands, he’d floated into his bedroom on autopilot. He tugged the blind up, and shoved the window open, eyes blurry and half asleep. A wiggling figure in the distance caught his eye, and his stomach dropped.

Red was out there, forehead damp and glistening in the evening sun. Mercifully, his back was to Mickey, as he leant down, fussing with something buried deep in the pillowy looking earth that covered the surface of the first vegetable bed. Red’s ass wiggled this way and that, a unrhythmic dance to the chirpy evening birdsong, and Mickey let himself watch, eyes glued to the dirt-covered denim, only for a second, before he forcefully pulled the window shut again.

Only, the window groaned loudly, and, ridiculously, Red peered between his splayed legs, and waved at Mickey from his rather precarious upside-down position.

Mickey pulled the blind shut and stomped out of his bedroom, determined to forget about Red and his fucking pruning shears.

The plan, however brilliant in theory, failed miserably in practice, and resulted in Mickey finding himself, yet again, covertly watching Red chew his fucking tomatoes. If Mickey cared, or if he was the kind of guy that had some sort of gardening glove fetish, he would have realised that Red tended to the garden in the evening, when the sun dipped, bloated and heavy, below the treeline, and bathed the grass in dazzling, shimmering golden light. If Mickey cared, or if he was the kind of guy that jerked off furiously in the shower thinking about the way the muscles in Red’s arms rippled, taut, when he hauled bags of soil from one end of the garden to the other, he would have devised a way of opening his blind just so, just enough to see out of, but not enough that Red could see his peering, lurking face.

For a kid who had grown up in the underbelly of Chicago, whose first word was ‘fuck’, only to be followed by ‘you up’, Mickey had been remarkably quick to come to terms with the fact that he only liked fucking dudes. The first time he’d slept with a chick, the noisy, breathy, wetness of it all had kept his dick limp and his ego in tatters, and she’d thrown him out of her bedroom with a ‘fucking faggot’ for good measure.  He’d slept with countless other women since then, a painful exercise in compulsory heterosexuality, and as he ploughed into them from behind, he’d screw his eyes shut and pretend the fleshy give of their hips was tight, coiled muscle, and pretend that their high-pitched blabbering were deep, guttural moans. It hurt, every time, when they’d slink off, hair mussed and lipstick smudged, and he’d be left splayed lifelessly on damp sheets that smelt like sex, but he managed. He had to manage. Until Terry Milkovich, silverback gorilla, had died in a wheezing, heaving mess on the kitchen floor, and Mickey was free.

He fucked his first guy on the night of the funeral, was fucked by his first guy three nights later, and never looked back. Mickey was pretty comfortable with what he liked and liking what he liked didn’t make him a bitch.

But this? Staring at some guy whispering sweet nothings to his peppers, hiding behind the blind every time he so much as glanced in Mickey’s general direction? This was horrifyingly close to pining, teetering on the edge of teenage puppy love infatuation type shit, and it set Mickey’s teeth on edge. Milkovich’s didn’t do crushes.

A knock on the window startled him, shattering his belligerent introspection and rattling his bones.

It was Red, who had somehow managed to creep his way across the scrubby lawn, up to Mickey’s window. Mickey blinked at him, dumbly.

Red started to speak, but Mickey couldn’t hear him.

“The windows closed; I can’t hear you!” Mickey shouted, dumbly.

Shit.

Red stepped out of the way, just in time, and Mickey shoved the window open.

“Uh, window was … y’know. What the fuck do you want?”

Red smiled.

“Do you want a tomato?”

[ollie-ollie-oxenfreee]

then came the morning (aka: the post - canon cuddle fic)

The work in progress is finally done! I’ve been chipping away at it for the past couple weeks now, and it’s gone through many drafts / iterations, but I think I’m finally happy with it. :)

Title from an album by the Lone Bellow. 

The first time the two of them “shared a bed” was about as awkward as one might imagine. The initiating circumstances were hardly any better.

 The heating apparatus in their quarters had given out a week or so back in a spectacular fit of dust - laden wheezing. The engineering crew called in to inspect it informed them that it couldn’t be fixed until they could pick up the right parts at the nearest trading post (which was naturally thousands of klicks away on the ragged edge of nowhere). With the ambient heat from the nearby engine room seeping through the wall, the conditions were deemed “unpleasant but survivable.” They were issued two extra threadbare blankets and told in tersely formal military - speak to deal with it. 

 And they’d dealt with it really well for a while! They grit their teeth and carried on like a couple of champs: Harrow, having been thoroughly warned against using her magic too frequently, layering on spare cloaks and sweaters until she almost disappeared under a mountain of black fabric; Gideon curling up close to the engine room wall and wincing when the cold sent spiteful twinges shooting through her still-very-busted knee. 

 But then one night their grand flagship of the revolution chugged through a particularly empty sprawl of space and began to slow down. The heat from the engine room guttered like a candle flame. Frost spiderwebbed across the thin plex of their window. Harrow’s breath showed in thin wisps of vapor as she huffed, glaring down at the pages of her book like she wanted to reprimand the cold for daring to interrupt her studies. 

 Gideon had half a mind to encourage her to try (that glare could stop a full - fledged Lyctor in their tracks, who knew what other horrifying powers it possessed?), but thought better of it when she saw the genuine exhaustion in the other girl’s eyes.

 “You doing alright over there, my vulturine vicar?” she asked. “I know it takes some time to absorb all that good bone knowledge, but you haven’t turned a page in like half an hour.”

 The thunderous look on Harrow’s face darkened further as she set her book aside with an exasperated thump. “This is ridiculous. I studied in the depths of Drearburh for years without any issue, and yet here I am struggling to focus like a novice. It isn’t even that cold.” She bit her lip as a shiver ran through her at the words. 

 “Evidence seems to suggest otherwise, o mistress of melancholy. Do you want me to go ask that guy in the supply room for another blanket? He still owes me for his son’s fencing lesson.”

 Supply room guy didn’t really owe her anything, but she knew that mentioning it would make Harrow feel better. If she could believe that the nice things Gideon did for her were actually for Totally Self - Serving, Debt - Settling reasons, she could accept them without feeling guilty.

 (Guilt had haunted Harrow more than ever upon returning to her own body, making it hard to breathe on good days and leaving her shaking with sobs on bad ones. 

It was one of those fun little things they had in common.)

 From the way Harrow’s shoulders stiffened, though, it seemed that Gideon Nav’s patented Guilt Workaround wasn’t going to be as effective as usual. She shook her head - a stiff little gesture that made her earrings rattle - then sighed. 

 “No. Thank you, though, it’s kind of you to offer.” 

 The thank you was sincere, and that was admittedly pretty nice, but all the sincerity in the world wouldn’t change the fact that Harrow was still  very obviously shivering. She looked miserable beneath her usual mask of face paint and stoicism. The dark red bead of blood-sweat trailing down her temple indicated that she'd probably tried using some kind of homeostasis theorem, but it wasn't working well enough. 

 There had to be a solution to this problem somewhere. Harrow's stubborn pride meant that she wouldn't accept help outright - she would sooner set her books on fire than admit what she thought of as a weakness - but if Gideon could play it just right, maybe she wouldn't have to. It would need to be done carefully - too sappy and she'd be uncomfortable, too straightforward and she'd balk.  Casual, Gideon decided. Nice and casual was the way to go. It would just be a matter of execution.

 "Soooo," she said at length, leaning back against the wall all cool and easy. (She folded her arms up behind her head as an afterthought, appreciating the way it made her still-atrophied-but-getting-there muscles stand out through the thin fabric of her shirt. Confidence boosts were going to be scarce and sorely needed in the conversation to come - she’d take them where she could get them.)

 Naturally, Harrow did not appreciate the change in tack or the cool-and-easy-ness. She did, however, manage to muster up a look so steeped in wary disapproval that it cut through her earlier frustration like a hot knife through bone marrow. “So.”

 “You sure about that blanket? Because really, it would only take me a second -”

 “I’m sure. Thank you.”

 “Then, um, did you want to borrow mine?”

 Harrow blinked. “You need yours.”

 “Yeah, I know! I meant that we could maybe - share. Pool our resources.” She patted the edge of her bunk gamely, then instantly regretted it when Harrow’s eyes narrowed even further. 

 “You want us to sleep together?”

 "No? I mean, technically, but no. In the literal way. Not the other way.” Well maybe the other way sometime if you wanted to but that’s a whole other weird conversation that we probably shouldn't touch with a ten foot pole or we might explode. 

 "How exactly would that work?" The caution was still heavy in Harrow's voice, but some of the disapproval had ebbed away. 

 "I mean. We'd probably need to use my bed, since my sheets aren't covered in gross bone gobbets, but you could bring your blankets over and layer 'em over mine and then we'd have twice the blankets! And, you know, body heat. Which has its perks." Even Gideon's cool-and- easy-ness faltered at that, but she bravely soldiered on. "The point is, we'd both be warm."

 "And it won't - make things weird?" 

 "Nope! Not weird. All perfectly chill, my shivering scion."

 Harrow paused for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'll get ready for bed," she said at last, clipped and decisive. "And I'll think about it."

 "Take your time. I'll be here."

 Moments later, after the shivering scion had swept grandly out of the room, Gideon's Thinking Brain crashed unceremoniously into her Talking Brain. Things were not, in fact, going to be perfectly chill. There were going to be some logistical problems with this arrangement. Big logistical problems.

 Big logistical problems namely revolving around the mutually exclusive facts that the midnight monarch was not especially comfortable with touch, and Gideon Nav, space - bee slayer and resurrected badass, was a sleep cuddler.

 Or, well, she was in theory. She didn’t have much (any) “real world” experience to go on, but she’d woken up many, many times back on the Ninth with a bundle of blankets wrapped up in her arms or nestled close to her chest. The habit had never really embarrassed her back then - she actually kind of liked it. She felt warmer and less lonely when she had something to hold, even in the frigid emptiness of her cell. 

 But that was back then. Things were different in the here - and - now. Harrow was in the here - and - now, and Gideon would never forgive herself if she ruined things with Harrow right when their relationship was on the upswing. They were actually talking, slowly figuring out how to work together again. The furious, tearful intensity between them in the wake of their reunion had calmed and warmed into something almost like real friendship. 

 After all that had happened - everything that had gone wrong over the past year and a half - they’d found a fragile sort of peace. There was no way in Hell she was going to ruin that peace now.

 So while Harrow swished about getting ready for bed, Gideon leveled with herself and laid down some ground rules. Don’t make this weird, Nav. Make sure she’s comfortable, give her her space, and don’t think about cuddling with her. 

 ...even though it would probably be warmer, and she has shitty necro circulation and essentially no body mass so she needs all the warmth she can get, and she gets that kinda soft peaceful look on her face when - no, fuck, see? You’re doing it already. Even if she did like you like that, which she absolutely doesn’t because she’s got a good old-fashioned frostbite girl back home, that’s not what you’re here for. You’re her cav. Her sworn sword. You’re here to do your job and make sure she doesn’t get her thumbs bitten off again. That’s it.

 “You’re staring.”

 Harrow’s voice cut sharp as a bone shard through Gideon’s nervous thought - spiral. Having apparently completed her grim evening rituals, she’d settled lightly on the far edge of the to - be - shared bed, countless dark layers poofing out around her like the feathers of a posturing crow. Her face was flecked with dots of gray from scrubbing off her paint, and her short hair stuck up in messy licks of black fluff despite her increasingly irritated attempts to smooth it flat. 

 It shouldn’t have been endearing. It really, really shouldn’t have. 

 It was.

 Gideon was so screwed.

 “Shit,” she muttered, scrubbing a hand over her face to ground herself. She glanced over to meet Harrow’s eyes (and wow, was that a mistake, they were as mesmerizing a swirl of black and gold as ever), then forced a smile like she wasn’t screaming internally. “Sorry. Zoned out a little. You good to go?”

 The wryly exasperated glint in Harrow’s eyes made them glow even brighter in the dim light. “Yes, I’m ‘good to go,’ thank you. Are you, though? You look … troubled.” 

 Shit. Shit. Shit. Think nice, normal thoughts. Don’t let her know. She cannot know. 

 “I’m always good, my chthonic countess,” she lied, smooth as could be, throwing in a roguish wink for good measure. That was distractingly stupid enough, it was bound to work.  

 Harrow frowned. “Why are you blinking like that?”

 The roguish wink apparently had not worked. 

 “No reason! Just dust. In my eye. Lots of very rude dust landing right in my eye. Anyway. How are we doing this?”

 A flicker of genuine, anxious concern ghosted over Harrow’s face as her frown deepened. 

 “Gideon,” she began, in that slow, reluctant way of hers that heralded Incoming Indignity. “I know that you were the one to suggest this, but I want to impress upon you that if you aren’t - certain about it, there is another possible solution.”

 She cast around the room for a moment and reached for a massive, dusty tome at the top of a nearby stack, flipping determinedly through the pages. “I've had the idea for some time, but I only just managed to convince our commanding officer that I could use theorems 'responsibly' without their constant supervision, so I haven't been able to test it until now. Small - scale thanergetic fission reactions produce sparks of flame that, if handled extremely carefully, could give off enough heat - "

 “Wait.” Gideon held up a hand, her own anxious brain jolting back online at the word flame. “Wait, wait, wait. Harrow. Seriously? The concern is sweet, don’t get me wrong, but your other solution is death - fire?”

 “I said that it was a possibility,” she snapped back, that old brittle defensiveness calcifying over the vulnerability in her voice. Her posture straightened with a great rustling of robes: shoulders back, chin high, eyes gleaming with disdainful pride as the bones scattered about their room twitched to life. Looking for all the world like she had when they were ten - twelve - fourteen - sixteen, bitter and vicious and spoiling for a fight. 

 She seemed to realize it right when Gideon did. Her eyes widened, then closed. The bowstring tension in her shoulders slowly ebbed away as her half - formed constructs clattered to the floor. “Sorry,” she said at last, her voice a threadbare murmur. “I’m sorry. That was - uncalled for.”

 “It’s a reflex. I get it.” And she did - she’d done the same thing countless times, had a hand on her sword and a barbed insult on her tongue without even thinking about it. 

 Another one of those fucked up things they had in common. 

 An uneasy silence settled between them, broken only by the rumbling hum of the engines, the thud of footsteps in the hall. 

 “I meant it, you know,” Harrow said, after a long moment. “About other options. It was a half - baked and immature attempt, but I wanted to give you an out if you were uncomfortable.”

 “Yeah, I know, my sepulchral sage. I appreciate it. Half - baked immaturity and all.” She bumped her shoulder gently against Harrow’s, then flopped back on the bunk to stare up at the low ceiling. “Are we, like, committing to honesty hour tonight? How deep into feelings do you want to get?”

 “As deep as is comfortable.”

 “That’s what she said.”

 “It’s a reasonable thing for her to say.”

 Another hush fell over them, marginally more comfortable than the last, as Gideon worried her lip between her teeth and counted the cracks in the ceiling above her. There were nine of them in total. Go fucking figure.

 A bony finger poked her in the side after a few cycles of counting. “Were you going to elaborate, or was that all just a set - up for one of your charming jokes?”

 “I can’t believe it took you eighteen years to finally admit that they’re charming, but no, that’s not why I said it. I’ll lay bare my tender squishy heart for you, penumbral lady. Because you asked so nicely.” 

  Because I think you might already have it. 

 No avoiding it now. Might as well bite the bullet and dive in. 

 “I was on board with the cuddle thing from the beginning, but I felt like you wouldn’t be, and I panicked. You probably already knew that because you’re way more creepily observant than you have any right to be, but there it is. Out in the open.” 

 She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could just run away and hide from the other girl’s piercing gaze. “I just don’t want to fuck things up with you, Harrow. I feel like we’ve got a kind of good thing going now. You haven’t called me a useless halfwit in forever, and I haven’t called you a heinous bitch in forever, and I haven’t wanted to. That’s unheard of for us. I don’t want it to go away.”

 Her voice cracked, and the most damning words burst forth like flowers through concrete: “I don’t want to give you a reason to shut me out again.”

 The memories of those nine months flashed in fragmented mosaic through her mind - the slick stone walls of the well, the freezing churn of the water, the burn in her muscles as she desperately thrashed up toward the surface and reached for someone who didn’t even know she was there. The gut - wrenching loneliness that defined her entire fucking life coalescing in that pit of brackish darkness. The chant rattling on loop in her mind as the water pulled her under: Harrow, what happened, what did you do, why the fuck did you leave me here, I had a purpose, I threw myself on that goddamned rail for a reason, was that not enough for you? 

 Was I not enough for you?

 A cool, fine - boned hand laced with hers and squeezed, just once. The memories blurred. 

 “Gideon,” the voice that had haunted her all that time said. “You know - you have to know that isn’t why I did it.”

 “Why did you, then?”

 A tiny hitch of breath. A soft, almost incredulous laugh. Then:

 “Because I loved you.”

 The words hung heavy in the frozen air. 

 “You - what?”

 “I loved you.” She said it so simply. Like it was something she’d come to terms with long ago. “I loved you beyond reason, and for once in my life I wanted to do right by you and keep you safe as you did me. The motivation doesn’t justify a moment of it, I won’t pretend it does, and I can’t even begin to erase the hurt it caused you. But I need you to understand that it was never because of something you did wrong. You are good, darling. Good to the core. You always have been.”

 Bright spots bloomed before Gideon’s eyes as her reeling mind fought to catch up. Three thoughts sprang unbidden to the forefront:

 Mmf.

 And: Darling?

 And:

“Loved. You said ‘loved.’ Why the past tense?”

 She sat there, staring blankly up at the ceiling, half - expecting a don’t be presumptuous, Griddle or something even remotely normal, at least. What she got instead was another laugh, halting and shaky and suddenly deeply bitter. The hand in hers went rigid and drew away. 

 “I came to my senses. I remembered the countless awful things I’ve done. Saw myself for the leech that I am. I’ve taken and taken and taken from you, over and over again, torn away at your life like a scavenger, I can’t steal anything more  - “

 “Who said anything about stealing?”

 For the first time since the grand awkward commencement of honesty hour Gideon felt a genuine smile bloom across her face. “Come on, Nonagesimus, give me some credit. You honestly think I would have stuck around this long if I didn’t know what I was giving you? If I wasn’t getting something out of it too?”

 “What could you possibly be getting out of it?”

 “You. I like you. Like, a lot. More than I ever thought I would. And I know the brain weasels are going to start yammering about how that’s impossible, and you don't deserve it, and we've still got a mountain of baggage left to work through, but I’ve thought about it a lot and I really mean it. Having you with me has made this whole shitty thing infinitely less shitty."

 With a surge of sudden bravery and dizzy emotion, she reached out to take Harrow's hand again and, giving her ample time to pull away, pressed a feather - light kiss to the back. “If you want me here too, sunshine - as your cav or your friend or something else - then I'm not going anywhere."

 Harrow closed her eyes, took a deep shuddering breath, and - smiled. A real one, slow and hesitantly sweet, lighting up her careworn face. "I need to think about it - we both should think about it. But I do want you here, in whatever way you want to be."

 "Yeah? Cool."

 "Cool."

 Silence settled upon them for the third time that night, but this time it was different. It was soft and tentative, fragile and new, like budding grave - flowers reaching for the sun. First flowers, the both of them, clawing up out of the grit and finding a way to bloom.

 "Should we go to sleep now?" Harrow asked at last, her rasping voice low and quiet. "It's getting late."

 "We probably should. Cam and Pal are gonna kill us if we're not up by 6:00 tomorrow. Are you still up for this, though? Like, the whole 'two girls, chilling in a military bunk, zero feet apart 'cause they're freezing and also maybe like each other' thing?"

 "Yes. On one condition."

 "Anything."

 "This might be difficult for you."

 "Seriously, Harrow, just tell me. Name it and it's done."

 "No sex jokes."

 She heaved a sigh, mock - exasperated and so stupidly fond. "As you wish, my dearest darling death omen. As you wish."

 It took a while to get comfortable - with Harrow's knobby elbows jabbing Gideon in the stomach, Gideon's clunky knee brace getting tangled in the sheets, the blankets collectively giving up and puddling on the floor at least ten times - but eventually, like everything else, they made it work. They fumbled through the sleep - cuddling confession with an admirable lack of panic on both sides, culminating in a firm agreement that they would let each other know the moment they were at all uncomfortable and an "I trust you" from Harrow so pure in its sincerity that it would be ringing through Gideon's mind for at least a myriad.

 Harrow was the first to fall asleep, curled up tight in a cocoon of black fabric, the dark crown of her head just barely brushing the sunburst scar on Gideon's chest. Her shallow breaths fell into an even, steady rhythm, interspersed with whistling snores that Gideon was definitely going to tease her about when her heart was less of a melted puddle of goo. 

 The minutes slipped by warm and slow as drops of honey as her own eyes grew heavier, fluttering closed. She gave her necromancer - her Lyctor - her beautiful baneful bone empress one last sleepy smile, and drifted off.

 (When Camilla went to shake her sparring partner awake the next morning, she found the two of them still sound asleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and looking more peaceful than she'd ever seen them. She huffed a laugh, muttered "finally," and let them be.)

[janetbrown711]

“   you’re  doing  great ,   okay ??   i mean it .   ” Wakko yakko

Yakko was glad that Wakko had already climbed to the bottom of the tower by the time he had gathered everything they’d need for their trip to the wishing star and he got to the bottom of the tower, otherwise he was pretty sure he would have had a heart attack from the anxiety. The tower was at least 50 feet tall for crying out loud- had it been any other circumstances, Yakko would’ve refused to even consider the thought.

Still, he made it, and all was well... for the moment anyhow. Yakko knew that “okay”ness wasn’t likely to last, especially if any of the guards noticed them slipping out with a sled in toe-

Okay, maybe this was a terrible idea... but they had to get there somehow. Yakko was not going to give up the opportunity of a lifetime just because it was a little stupid. They could finally, finally be free of their stupid grandmother. For good. If they made it they’d all be safe. Together. Happy.

Quickly and quietly, Yakko untied the last three bedsheets used to make Wakko’s rope and began to tie it to a stick, he then wedged into the sled, creating a kinda crappy but still functional makeshift sail of sorts that would hopefully work alongside the windy Acme Mountains to help them go further. He also set down a few blankets, their scarves, and snowshoes if needed. It was times like these he was grateful he was royalty- he couldn’t imagine not having warm enough clothes or supplies.

Dot sat in the sled while Yakko and Wakko began to pull, heading their way towards the back exit through the gardens- it was small and hardly ever used so they figured it was likely their best shot for escaping unnoticed.

Luck appeared to be on their side, as they had made it all the way to the gate itself, when a voice shouted for them to halt.

“Who goes there? On what business?” One knight said. Yakko gulped.

“W-well-”

“Aren’t you three the royal children? What are you doing up at such an hour?” The other asked. Yakko

“Well we were just on our way to- uh...”

“You three running away?” The first asked. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot looked at each other and shrugged. The guard nodded.

“I see,” He said, pulling the other to the side. There was a long awkward moment of just the two of them whispering, before he turned over.

“We were friends of your father. He was a brave man, we owe him a lot,” The first guard nodded.

“We will let you go, but we will not be able to stop her from chasing after,” The second said.

Yakko couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Really?! Thanks, misters!” Dot smiled at them.

“Dot, keep your voice down,” Yakko hushed her, before looking up at them. “Thanks though... it means a lot.”

They nodded, pulling a lever that opened the gate for them. Yakko nodded at his younger brother, and they pulled the sled out of the castle walls.

Alright, one obstacle down, a million more to go...

Well, at least they wouldn’t be discovered until morning- hopefully. That should give them enough time to make it to the mountains and get a fair head start before any of them noticed and went after them.

“Alright you two, you ready?” Yakko asked, noticing a breeze picking up. Wakko and Dot nodded, as Wakko got onto the sled. Yakko nodded back, as he started running downhill, catching the wind and they headed off to Acme Mountain.

.o0o.

“Are you sure we have everything William?”

“I’ve checked each bag a thousand times, Lena dear. We have everything,” William chuckled as closed the door to the cart.

“The cloaks? Food? Water? Extra mittens? The sword?” Lena asked.

“Even the sword, dear. It’ll be fine, Lena, we’re totally prepared, thanks to Helloise and Dr. Scratchnsniff,” William nodded at his childhood friend and the doctor.

“It’s not a problem, William. We’re always happy to help,” Helloise smiled. “Though... may I ask what the sword is needed for?”

William shrugged. “You never know with wild animals.”

“Well- don’t be too harsh on that arm of yours, or else you’ll end up right back,” Helloise chuckled.

“Right, yes,” Willaim laughed too.

“Yes- right. Seriously- thank you. For everything. Your hospitality has meant the world to us,” Lena said to them as well.

“It’s an honor, your majesty,” Helloise said.

“Right- well, if we want to reach the mountains by sunrise, we’d best get going,” William said, giving Helloise a quick hug before helping Lena onto her seat.  

“We want her back in one piece as much as possible, ya? We want to use her to sell our elixir,” Scratchy said as William got on.

“Not a scratch, got it,” William chuckled as he grabbed the reigns of the horse.

“Do be careful though, you’re still not-”

“Quite healed, I know. I promise, I’ll be careful,” Lena said as gracefully as possible, hiding her annoyance- which wasn’t with the good nurse, but more so with herself. The nurse and doctor nodded.

“Well- you best be off then. We wish you the best of luck,” Helloise said.

“Yes- good luck,” Scratchnsniff nodded.

“Thank you! We’ll be back as soon as we can!” Lena waved as William pulled the reigns and the horse began to move, and they were on their way to the Wishing Star.

.o0o.

It had been a long night for Yakko. Thankfully, the wind had been on their side and carried them all the way to the Acme Mountains, but Wakko and Dot had almost immediately fallen asleep on the sled, so Yakko was forced to stay up the whole night to make sure they didn’t crash into anything. The cold air did help with that, but Yakko wished he had something else to keep him awake- otherwise, he might just pass out, and then they’d have a huge problem (likely the crashing into things he was avoiding).

Dot did eventually wake up, though Wakko remained asleep. Yakko thought it probably had to do with the fact that despite being out in the cold mountains, the blankets were much thicker and comfortable than whatever was in that dusty tower. He deserved his rest.

It couldn’t be more than an hour or two away- they were close. The mountains weren’t too terrible, though they were unfamiliar. Still, the path was wide and clear, and their sled had the perfect momentum.

However, their luck was bound to end at some point, as Yakko looked back through one pass and noticed that a royal carriage was in the distance. Now, there was a chance it didn’t see them and that they couldn’t get any closer, but Yakko was still on edge (as was per usual for the eldest prince).

Plus, he had noticed another group was following- though he hadn’t gotten a good look, he had only seen them briefly. They were on an elixir cart and were covered in coats and hoods, so Yakko couldn’t get a good look. They were probably just there to take what was rightfully their’s, which Yakko knew was a possibility but was still annoyed that it happened.

He just hoped that their sled would stay fast enough so hopefully those people wouldn’t even come close to them and the star.

“You look tired,” Dot said as she rubbed her eyes.

“Staying up will do that to you,” Yakko didn’t fight it.

“Is Wakko okay?” Dot asked, poking her brother slightly.

“Of course, he’s just... tired,” Yakko glanced down at his little brother, noticing how much he appeared to be clutching the blankets tightly despite sleeping, curled up into a ball.

“And cold, probably,” Yakko said, reasoning that it was a good position to preserve body heat. Dot nodded her head.

“I’m hungry,” Dot frowned.

“I only managed to grab a little food- let’s wait a while, okay?” Yakko sighed. Dot did too, but she was understanding so she didn’t complain.

They carried on for a little while, but it wasn’t too long before they ran into a long wooden bridge, which meant they’d have to pull the sled across.

“Wakko, wake up,” Yakko nudged his little brother. Wakko groaned.

“Wak, I need you to help me pull the sled, can you do that for me?” Yakko asked politely. Wakko groaned again.

“Mm... why can’t Dot?” he said. Yakko rolled his eyes.

“You know she isn’t as strong as you. Get your lazy butt up and help me,” Yakko said, jumping off and getting the rope so he could tie it around and pull the sled. ��Once he’d done that, he went back to Wakko, who still hadn’t moved.

“C’mon Wakko, you gotta hurry up- we can’t let them catch up to us,” Yakko said, getting more aggravated. Wakko sighed and tiredly pulled himself upright, taking off the blankets, and stepping out.

However, the moment he was on his own two legs, they immediately buckled and he face-planted into the snow.

“Wakko!” Yakko gasped and went to him.

“Wakko, what’s wrong?” He asked, holding him. Wakko was shivering.

“Mm... hungry,” he said hoarsely.

Yakko paused. 

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked.

“Four days..?” Wakko tried to think. Yakko’s heart sank.

Four days. He had been in the tower for three- Yakko should’ve noticed- he should’ve brought something- now Wakko was- well-

“Dot, can hand me the brown bag?” Yakko ordered more than asked. Dot was quick to obey and handed it over.

“I have food right here- it’s gonna be okay Wak,” Yakko said, taking out a piece of bread and giving it to him. Wakko nibbled on it weakly. Yakko didn’t hesitate to just hand him the whole bag of food and hand it to him.

“Wak- I-i’m so sorry-” he began to apologize.

“S’okay... I never told...” Wakko shrugged. Still, intense guilt grabbed hold of his entire body, which he was pretty sure was going to haunt him for the rest of the day.

 “You’re doing great, okay? I mean it- I’m sorry for snapping,” Yakko said, picking up his weak brother and placing him back on the sled. 

“S’okay,” Wakko didn’t have the energy for words. Yakko again wanted to apologize, but they needed to get going if they were going to make it to the wishing star before anyone else caught up.  

“Well, Dot- you wanna try and help?” Yakko asked as he put Wakko back on the sled and under the blankets. Dot shrugged and got off. So then the pair grabbed the rope and began to pull with all their might, dragging the sled across the rickety bridge. Yakko cringed at every eerie creak the bridge gave as they stepped, but thankfully it didn’t break and they reached the end safely.

“Feeling any better Wak?” Yakko asked as Dot got back on, and Yakko prepared the sail once more.

“Lil,” he said, nibbling on another piece.

“Be sure to pace yourself- too much at once and you may go into shock,” Yakko said. Wakko nodded tiredly. He didn’t have the energy for eating quickly anyway.  

“Please be okay- I can’t have you dying from my neglect,” Yakko thought to himself as he started up the sled again, and they were on their way once more.

.o0o.

Lena and William had been riding for a little while now, though they quickly realized they weren’t alone. They caught a glimpse of another traveler, though they didn’t get a good look. Lena had immediately wanted to grab the reigns and make the horse go faster, but William promised he knew a short cut through the mountains that could get them there before any one else got to the star.

Lena hoped he was right.

Still, they were glad they packed cloaks to help them stay hidden. It made them feel a lot safer. Well that- and William kept the sword by his feet at all times too  

“These roads are a lot less defined than you said they were,” Lena remarked, as the cart hit other rock and the whole vehicle jumped.

“It’s fine, Lena. I know this place like the back of my hand,” William didn’t mind her pessimism.

“You see your hand every day. You’ve not seen these mountains in at least 13 years,” Lena rolled her eyes. William chuckled.

“You know, when we were kids, I always imagined bringing you to these mountains one day so we could watch the sunrise,” William said. Lena laughed a little.

“We were so young back then...” She said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Would you have done anything differently?” He asked.

“Outside of poisoning my mother? No,” Lena said with a soft smile, holding William’s free hand.

“Though I must say, I imagine this all going in a very different way...” Lena sighed.

“I know dear... don’t worry though, we’ll be safe and reunited before you know it,” William reassured.

“You better be right, or else I’ll never forgive you,” Lena snorted.

“I’m right, and you know it,” He elbowed her a little. Lena laughed.

However, their joy was quickly halted when they heard a carriage get behind them. Quickly, they pulled up their hoods to make sure they covered their faces as much as possible, when it suddenly pulled up beside them and ordered they halt. Wisely, they obeyed.

“You there, have you seen any travelers come this way?” It didn’t take them looking to know they were speaking to a royal guard.

“No,” Lena answered, disguising her voice.

It was the royal carriage.

“And you, what do you come for?” He asked. Lena and William exchanged a look.

“Answer in the name of the Queen,” The coachman ordered.

“We come to travel across to sell our elixirs over in Appleton, sir,” William said. The guard scratched his head, debating whether or not to believe them.

“You look like peasant folk, so I suppose I ought to believe that... know anything of a Wishing Star?” he asked them.

“No, sir,” Lena said, praying this conversation would be over.

“You there, sir... you seem familiar, do I know you?” The guard tilted his head, trying to get a better look at William.

“Oh- well, I - uh...” William panicked.

“You are not to be talking with the commoners. We must reach it before they do,”  A harsh voice from inside shouted at him, and Lena felt a chill crawl up her spine.

Her mother was inside.

“Yes, yes, your majesty,” the coachman rolled his eyes and started up their horses once more. “You travelers be safe- these mountains can be quite dangerous.”

“We will, goodbye,” She nodded, making sure to keep her face still hidden, until they were finally gone. Lena sighed a breath of relief before looking back at William.

“We’re going to get there first, we are not going to let her win,” William swore, clutching the reigns. Lena agreed, making the same oath as well.

They were in this to win. Their family depended on it-

They were going to stop Angelina, no matter what it took.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

[korgidorgi]

OUAT Regina Mills x Reader

Word count: 1637

Warnings: Like, one curse word

Summary: Takes place around S3 Ep13. Reader just arrived back in Storybrooke the previous day. They are chilling in Granny’s Diner, looking through some writings when Regina joins them. They have a chat about something strange that reader (you) had experienced in the past year. It had happened before, but when they were a kid, and it felt so real.

Gender is not specified.

Sitting in Granny’s Diner, you take a sip of your drink while flipping through the pages of two notebooks. One notebook has pages upon pages of storyline and sketches of characters. The other notebook contains notes about the first one, and this little town called Storybrooke, mostly about the people you’ve met in your short amount of time of being in this town since you arrived yesterday. Apparently, Emma, your childhood friend, is in the town too, and her son, Henry, who you haven’t seen in a year.

Emma had invited you for dinner with her, Henry, and a few friends last night, which you politely declined, but ended up going anyway. That’s where you met Mary Margaret and David. You’ve previously met Regina staring at your vehicle when you stopped in one of the stores yesterday when you first arrived; she was at the dinner too. Everyone was very nice, but something was bothering you, you didn’t know what it was at the time, but you’ve figured it out now, you think.

There’s something awfully familiar about the town and it’s people. Flipping through your journals, you finally connect the dots. Sitting in the booth behind you-

“Hey, do you mind if I sit with you?” A tentative voice brings you back to earth.

You look up, finding the dark haired woman from last night, and the same one you asked Mary Margaret about earlier this morning when you went to pick something up from her apartment that you’d left the previous night.

“No, not at all. Here-” you scramble your notes together to clear the table at least a bit from your spiraling ideas.

Regina takes a seat across from you as you try to organize your belongings, a little embarrassed about the mess.

“Sorry it's such a mess.” You apologize, throwing the loose papers and notes into your bag.

“It’s quite alright.” She responds, flashing you a small smile. “What are you writing?”

“Oh, I uh, I’ve been writing a story. Inspired from my dreams.” You nervously answer, not knowing where to look. “It sounds weird, right?”

“No, not at all.” She reassures, hesitantly placing a hand on top of yours briefly. “May I ask what your dreams are inspiring?”

“I’ve actually been writing in these journals for years, since I was a kid. I’ve always had really vivid dreams, and it was like they’d go in order, like episodes for a tv show.” You begin. “I got so into them, I started writing them down, and sometimes I’d draw some of the people as best I could from memory, but I was a kid, so they didn’t turn out very great. I’m currently looking back into it because I’ve had them again this past year, but they’ve suddenly stopped now. At least my sketches are better.” You chuckle.

“Well, they say follow your dreams.” She smiles over at you, pulling some hair from in front of her eyes. “What were they about?”

“I’m a pirate, I think, and during this past year I met a supposed “Evil Queen”, who I had met in my childhood dreams before.” You begin. “The first major scene I had was following her into a castle and trying to talk some sense into her before she tried to put a sleeping curse on herself. She told me she really missed her son, that there’s no reason for her to continue with her life. I felt bad for her and she poofed me away with some magic and I couldn’t find her again.” You tell her one of the major scenes in your dream, flipping through the pages of the first notebook you used at the re-beginning of the dreams and stopping on a certain page.

Flipping the notebook around for her to see, you let her take in the pencil sketch in front of her. The graphite etched into the paper depicts a mourning Queen sitting in a stone bench of a large room, her hair tied up and her body adorned by an intricately patterned dress, a dark cloak draped over her shoulders. In her hand, she holds a long needle, the tip coated with some dark substance; a potion or curse of some sort. Her features are soft but full of anguish, her eyes holding the most dejected look one could ever see as she looks down at the needle in her fingers.

You watch Regina take in the drawing for a moment before she finally speaks. “That’s very well drawn. And that’s from memory.” She comments, raising her eyebrows as if she’s impressed.

“Thank you, Regina.” You bashfully accept her compliment. “That’s how vivid these dreams are.” You add. “They feel like I’m actually experiencing them. Like I’m traveling to another world and living it.”

She nods at your statement, eyes fixed on the sketch again.

You speak up again, “Can I tell you something? It’s going to sound crazy, but I need to get this out of my head.”

“Of course.” She returns her gaze to you, awaiting what you have to say.

You think for a moment what you want to say first before finally saying one of your thoughts that’s been bugging you ever since you first saw her. “Have we met before?” You blurt out the question, not able to keep your words in check. “I just can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen you somewhere, that I’ve known you from somewhere.”

“I don’t think we have.” Regina answers. “I think I’d remember someone as-” She cuts herself off, pausing for a moment to look for the right words. “Someone as adventurous as you.”

“Oh. Okay.” You look down, “Sorry, that was a weird question.”

“No, not at all, Dear.” Regina reassures you.

You flash her a small smile, catching something out of the corner of your eye. A man passes your booth, not noticing your glance at him and leading Henry out of the Diner, to watch over him, you suspect. Regina notices your look, but before she can say anything, you’re flipping through the pages of your journal, muttering to yourself about “where is it”. Regina watches you as you finally stop on a certain page, completely confused and utterly shocked.

“I’ve seen him before…” You gape at your journal.

A sketch of a pirate’s portrait takes up the upper half of the page, as if drawn for a character profile in a novel with a description underneath the sketch. The man has short but well kept hair, one of his eyebrows raised slightly as if to taunt whomever it is he was interacting with at the time of the sketch. His stubble beard brings out some of his more attractive features and he sports a small black earring, almost covered by his black coat’s collar.

“Somehow, my subconscious knew him, and here he is.” You marvel.

“It might just be a coincidence.” Regina suggests. “Your brain doesn't forget faces, maybe you’ve seen someone like him somewhere and your mind just put him in there.”

“Maybe. But how weird is this?”

“I’ll admit, it is pretty weird.” Regina says. “Hey, I’m gonna go grab a drink from the counter, I’ll be right back.” Regina gets up to make her way to the counter of the Diner.

You flip through your journals, looking at all the characters you had sketched from your dream. You notice Regina saying hi to Emma and continue trying to think through what you had just confessed to Regina. Is it weird you told her something so bizarre even though you’ve only just met her yesterday?

Suddenly, the door bursts open and Mary Margaret’s friend, who was going to help her with the baby, walks into the diner. The aura around the woman wasn’t like anything you’d felt. She looks to be intimidating everyone in the diner, yet Regina doesn’t seem to flinch at the sudden entrance like everyone else. The woman waltzes right up to Regina, vengeful determination written all over her features. You watch as she gets up in Regina's face, trying so hard to intimidate her, but failing. You stand to go join Regina at the counter and try to see if you can get another drink.

“Oh, she never told you?” You hear the strange woman say, as she goes on about her being Regina’s sister.

“Of course she didn’t tell me, otherwise I’d know I have a sister.” Regina snaps back, holding her ground.

You interject before the energy in the room gets even more uncomfortable. “Ok, you’re making kind of a scene and people are staring. So, whatever sibling rivalries you have, can you put them on hold and sort them out somewhere else so you don’t cause a scene?”

“Who do you think you are?” The woman sneers. “Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” You simply state, before trying to shoo the Karen out. “But if you’re going to bring drama in here and bother everyone in the Diner, Karen, you can leave, please and thank you.”

You guide her out the door and watch her huff as she turns to walk away. “Regina, meet me tonight, we’ll settle our differences then. You all haven’t heard of the last of me!”

You turn back to Regina to find the whole diner looking at you. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

Regina approaches you, placing her hands on your upper arms in an attempt to comfort you. “No, you’ve done nothing wrong.” She reassures, looking out the door to watch the woman disappear from view. “Thank you for kicking her out.”

“You’re welcome.” You respond, still slightly nervous. “She was being a bitch to you.” You mutter.

Your response causes Regina to release a small chuckle. “I have a protector now?”

“I guess…” You mumble.