#she's insulting her but her robotic heart is pounding

[winxanity-ii]

⌜I Love, Robot | Chapter 03 Chapter 03 | engage protocol⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

The weight of the day's work hung heavy on your mind as you made your way home through the dimly lit streets of Jackson Star. Your fingers were sore from another day of cracking codes, navigating the shadows of the colony's network, but today had been different. Today, you stumbled upon a series of emails from Weyland-Yutani's upper officials. The contents were infuriating: thousands of contracts for colonies on Jackson Star were being forcibly extended.

"Damn those slimy, bastards," you muttered under your breath, your stomach twisting with the thought of Rain being one of those trapped by the company's greed.

You hoped she wasn't among the unfortunate souls shackled to this hellhole for longer. But deep down, you knew she likely was.

Just as you rounded a corner, a commotion up ahead pulled you from your thoughts. A group of children huddled around something—or someone—on the ground. They shouted insults, voices filled with mockery and disdain, their taunts echoing off the metal walls.

"Synthetic freak!" "Wey-Yu trash!"

Pushing through the crowd, you saw the target of their cruel taunts convulsing on the ground: it was Andy.

Without thinking, you sprinted forward. Your heart clenched as you shouted at the kids to back off. "Aye! Stop! Leave him alone, now!" your voice cut through the din like a sharp knife. The kids scattered, startled by your sudden appearance and the fierce anger in your eyes.

Just as you reached Andy, Rain burst out of a nearby building, her face pale with panic. "Andy! Oh gods, Andy!" She dropped to her knees. Andy's body twitched erratically, a thin line of foam trickling from his lips, his eyes rolled back and unseeing.

Rain cradled his head in her lap, her hands frantically searching for her reboot key.

"Rain, you have to turn him on his side. Quick!"

Rain, her hands trembling, tried to follow your instructions, but her movements were frantic. Without hesitation, you knelt beside her, your own panic rising.

"I can't find it—I can't find the reboot key! Fuck!"

"Shit, shit, shit," you muttered under your breath, helping Rain turn Andy onto his side to prevent any further damage. Your hands moved on autopilot, reaching down to your shoe. You pulled a small reboot key from a hidden hollow in the sole and thrust it into Rain's hand. "Here," you said, gently guiding Andy's head to the side to prepare him for the reboot.

The kids' slurs echoed in your mind, and anger simmered beneath your calm exterior. You knew this kind of prejudice existed, but seeing it directed at Andy—a being you'd come to see as more than just a machine—ignited a fire within you.

Rain's hands trembled as she inserted the drive into the small port on Andy's neck and twisted it. The change was immediate. Andy's body tensed, his convulsions stopping abruptly.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your hand instinctively clenching around Andy's twitching one. Then, his eyes fluttered open, the familiar soft glow returning as his systems rebooted.

"Y/N," he said, blinking up at you. "Why did the scarecrow get an award? Because he was outstanding in his field."

A shaky laugh escaped Rain's lips, and you couldn't help but chuckle too, relief flooding through you both. You exchanged a look with Rain, and she smiled weakly, brushing the hair from her face.

"Andy, your jokes are terrible," she muttered affectionately.

Together, the three of you stood, Andy's arm draped over your shoulders as the three of you made your way toward the living area. Rain brushed dirt from his clothes, her touch gentle but firm. "What are you doing home so early, anyway?"

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light. "It was a slow day," you replied. The lie felt bitter on your tongue, but your mind was still on the emails you'd seen earlier. "Have you checked on the status of your contract yet?"

Rain's expression shifted, a shadow passing over her face. "Yeah," she admitted quietly, the weight of the truth settling between you. "They extended it. Not that I expected anything different. Weyland never sticks to their promises."

A silence fell over you both, thick with frustration and unspoken worry. You nudged her gently, offering a small smile. "How about I buy you a treat before your shift starts? A little something to lift your spirits?"

Rain returned your smile with a grateful nod. "I'd like that."

The three of you made your way back towards the colony and just as you neared your building, you spotted a familiar figure leaning against the wall. Tyler, Rain's ex-boyfriend, straightened up when he saw you approach.

"Hey, Y/N. Long time no see," he said grinning slightly.

Rain perked up at the sight of him, a small smile touching her lips.

You had mixed feelings about Tyler. He wasn't a bad guy, just... complicated. He and Rain had gotten together not long after her parents died, and for a while, he had been a source of comfort for her. But the relationship had ended quickly and simply, a clean break.

Maybe it was Rain's unwavering loyalty to Andy that Tyler couldn't quite get past, or maybe it was something else. Either way, you had never been particularly close to him, nor had any real reason to dislike him.

You narrowed your eyes at Tyler, not bothering to hide your annoyance. "What do you want, Tyler?"

Tyler managed a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Well, hello to you too, Y/N." When you didn't respond, he sighed, his demeanor turning serious. "Listen, Rain, Y/N... I need to talk to you both. It's important."

A sense of unease crept up your spine, your instincts screaming that something was off. "What's going on, Tyler?"

He glanced around nervously, his gaze flickering to the shadows as if expecting to be overheard. When he met your eyes again, there was a pleading desperation in his expression. "Can we talk somewhere private? All three of us... it's about something big."

You exchanged a glance with Rain, her eyes silently begging you to agree. Despite the knot of worry tightening in your stomach, you found yourself nodding. "Alright, let's talk."

Tyler led you three to a dusty, outdated hauler parked at the edge of the colony—a Corbelan IV, by the looks of it. As you climbed aboard, the familiar scent of oil and dust filled your nostrils, bringing back memories of long nights spent tinkering with machinery and patching up broken tech.

"Andy!" Tyler shouted behind you three as you climbed up the machinery. "Got a new joke for me?"

"Why was the street sweeper fired?" Andy immediately asked, his voice taking on that familiar, overly sincere tone that always preceded one of his jokes.

"Why?"

"Because he swept dirt," Andy replied, the punchline delivered with such seriousness that it took a moment for the joke to land.

You couldn't help the small groan that escaped your lips, while Rain rolled her eyes with a playful smile. "Please don't encourage him," you muttered under your breath, though you couldn't quite hide the fondness in your voice.

Despite everything, Andy's attempts at humor had a way of lightening the mood, even in the darkest of times.

At the top of the hauler, a small head of brunette hair poked out; it was Tyler's sister, Kay.

The girl stepped forward, her expression softening as she looked at Rain. "Come inside, Rain. We're down here," she said gently. There was a certain urgency in her voice, though she tried to mask it with warmth. "It's been so long since we've all been together like this."

Rain hesitated, her eyes flicking between you, Andy.

You knew this was hard for her—these people had once been her closest friends, practically family. But things had changed since then, and you could see the conflict written all over her face. The tension between wanting to reconnect with them and the reality of the dangerous situation they were proposing.

Seeing her reluctance, Kay reached out and took Rain's hand. "Please, Rain. I've missed you," she said, her voice laced with genuine emotion. "And... so has my brother."

Rain's resolve wavered as she looked over her shoulder at Tyler, who stood by, his eyes silently pleading with her. It was clear that he was banking on their shared history, on the connection they'd once had, to sway her.

You shifted uneasily in front of Andy, watching the exchange with a growing sense of dread. The thought of Rain getting involved in something so risky made your stomach churn. But Rain, ever the one to see the good in people, gave Kay's hand a squeeze and nodded. "Alright," she agreed softly, "let's talk inside."

You followed them into the cramped, dimly lit interior of the hauler, your nerves on edge. The space was cluttered with old tech, discarded equipment, and makeshift seating.

It was clear that this wasn't just a casual gathering—they had been planning something big, something that would require all of their combined skills and resources.

Inside, the rest of Tyler's small group of friends waited: Bjorn, Kay and Tyler's cousin, whose cocky smirk set your teeth on edge; and Navarro, Bjorn's adopted sister, who was quietly checking the contents of a backpack.

You recognized them from the times Rain had still been dating Tyler. They'd been a tight-knit group, often seen together at colony gatherings or in the mess hall.

You knew who they were, had even spoken a bit more to Navarro after finding out about her pilot skills. She had a quiet strength about her, a no-nonsense attitude that you could respect. Conversations with her were always direct, focused on ships and flying techniques, and you appreciated that mutual understanding, that unspoken recognition of each other's abilities.

But out of all of them, Bjorn was the worst. Not just because of his constant, unwelcome attempts to flirt with you or the way he seemed to think every conversation was an opportunity to win you over with his cocky grin and irritating charm.

No, it was more than that. It was his blatant hatred and dislike for synthetics that really got under your skin. He made no effort to hide his disdain for Andy, his sneers and snide remarks always simmering with contempt whenever he talked about "scrap metal" or "Wey-Yu trash."

You could never figure out why. His hatred seemed personal, like it was rooted in something deeper than the usual wariness people felt towards synthetics. It was as if Bjorn had some buried grudge, something that made him despise Andy and others like him with a passion that was almost disturbing.

You had thought about asking him once, trying to understand where this deep-seated animosity came from, but you decided against it. There was no point in digging into whatever bitterness lay in Bjorn's past, especially when it meant more hostility towards Andy.

Bjorn's attitude was a constant reminder of the prejudice that lingered on Jackson Star, a colony already weighed down by so many injustices. The way he treated Andy infuriated you, igniting a protective fire inside you that you tried to keep in check. Because to you, Andy was more than just a synthetic. He was family.

Navarro was the first to greet Rain as she entered, her usual aloof demeanor softened by a genuine smile. "It's good you came, Rain," she said, pulling Rain into a brief, awkward hug. "We've all missed you around here."

Bjorn, leaning against the far wall with his usual smug grin, added, "I heard about your father. It hurts me." His tone was casual, almost dismissive, as if discussing something far less significant. It made your blood boil—how could he be so flippant about something that had torn Rain apart?

But Rain, ever composed, simply nodded, though you could see the pain flicker in her eyes. "Thanks, Bjorn," she replied quietly, her voice tight with emotion.

As you stepped into the cramped, dimly lit interior of the hauler, Navarro's eyes brightened when she saw you, and she immediately walked over. "Hey! Did you hear about the new gravity dampeners they're testing on the Pleroma class ships?" she asked, a hint of excitement growing in her voice. "Supposedly, they've reduced the spin drift by thirty percent. Imagine what we could do with those on a hauler like this!"

Before you could answer, Bjorn sauntered over with that familiar grin plastered on his face. "Y/N~" he purred, drawing out your name, "you've been a stranger lately. Why haven't you come around more often?" His tone was light, teasing, but you could hear the underlying note of something else—interest, maybe even desire.

You gave him a blunt response, keeping your expression neutral. "Because Rain and Tyler aren't together anymore, and I have no reason to."

A brief, awkward silence settled over the room as your words hung in the air. Bjorn chuckled, clearly unfazed by your bluntness, and leaned casually against the wall next to you. "Well," he said, his grin never faltering, tone dripping with false charm, "we could always fix that by hooking up, don't you think?"

You felt a surge of irritation rise within you, ready to curse him out or tell him exactly what you thought of his suggestion. But before you could say anything, Andy, who had been standing quietly beside you, suddenly spoke up. "Why did the pirate bring a hook to the party? Because he thought it was a 'hook'-up event!"

The joke was terrible, but it broke the tension, pulling a few chuckles from Navarro and even Tyler. Bjorn's scowl deepened, and he pushed away from the wall, moving back across the room, clearly irritated. You couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction seeing him knocked off his game.

Tyler, sensing the need to steer things back on track, stepped forward with a more serious expression. "Alright, enough messing around," he said, his voice steady and focused. "Rain, Y/N… there's something you need to see." He glanced between the two of you, making sure he had your attention. "This isn't just a reckless idea—we've found something, something that could change everything."

You narrowed your eyes at him, wary of where this was headed. "Show us," you said, keeping your voice steady.

Tyler led you deeper into the hauler, toward a small screen embedded in the wall. He pressed a few buttons, and the screen flickered to life, displaying a map of the surrounding space. A blip on the screen indicated a large object drifting in orbit.

"Last night," Tyler began, "we were loading the last Tesotek when the freighter intercepted a signal from this." He pointed to the blip on the screen. "It's a Weyland-Yutani ship, discarded and abandoned, just drifting above us. It's due to crash into the planet's rings in about 36 hours."

You scoffed, already suspecting where this was going. "An abandoned Weyland ship?" you guessed, your voice dripping with skepticism. "What use is an old, worn hunk of metal?"

Tyler's expression remained serious as he continued, "The manifest for the station shows it has multiple cryostasis chambers. If we can salvage them before the ship crashes, we could use them to make the long journey to Yvaga III."

"Oh, don't write it off too soon, Y/N. Who knows, that scrap, piece of junk might come in handy." Bjorn smirked at you before his gazed flickered to Andy with a mocking glint in his eyes. "No different than him, I suppose," he sneered.

Your temper flared instantly. "What's your fucking point, Bjorn?" you snapped, cutting through the tension with your impatience. You were done with the games, done with the veiled insults.

Tyler stepped in, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "Why sit here and wait for travel permits that we'll never get? The freighter can get us to Yvaga, but it takes nine years to reach the planet, and we'd have to sleep in cryosleep."

Rain frowned, her expression filled with doubt. "And you think this derelict ship might have functional cryosleep chambers?"

Kay nodded, her hand resting protectively on her belly. "The hyperlink shows that the ship still has capsules left. We could use them to get to Yvaga, to start over somewhere better."

You crossed your arms, skepticism etched deep into your face. "So, you want to empty a Weyland-Yutani ship of heavily banned equipment? Do you realize how insane that sounds?"

"Of course we do," Bjorn laughed, his eyes gleaming with a manic excitement. "So, will you help us?"

Rain, her tone cautious, asked, "What do you need us for?"

Tyler turned his focus to Andy. "Andy. We need Andy. He's synthetic and can interface with MU-TH-UR 9000—the ship's onboard computer system. He can get us in and out without any fuss."

Rain's concern was immediate. "But what if you get caught? If Weyland finds out, you'll never get a travel permit."

Bjorn scoffed, impatience clear in his voice. "Look, Rain, you two don't have to go, alright? We just need to borrow Andy."

Rain's protective instinct flared. "My brother isn't going up there alone," she declared, standing firm beside Andy.

"He's not your brother," Bjorn shot back dismissively, a sneer in his voice. "He's a defective Wey-Yu scrap your father found in the dump. Wake up, love."

That was the last straw. You stepped forward, fully done with Bjorn's shit, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Shut your fucking mouth, Bjorn," you snapped. "You don't get to talk about Andy like that. I'm sick of your damn attitude. For a bastard that needs help, you sure run your mouth a lot."

You grabbed Andy's hand, feeling a surge of protectiveness, and nudged Rain toward the door. It was clear you were ready to leave.

Tyler sighed, turning to his cousin. "Bjorn, c'mon..."

Bjorn raised his hands in mock surrender, a condescending grin on his face. "What? I didn't say anything..."

"Wait, Rain!" Tyler reached out, gently grabbing Rain's arm to stop her. "My cousin may be a fool, but he's right about one thing."

Rain turned to look at Tyler, her expression conflicted but still listening. You could see her loyalty pulling her in different directions, her resolve weakening under the weight of what Tyler was saying.

Tyler pressed on, his voice filled with urgency. "You have to wake up, Rain. The company gives us nothing, and you know it. We have to take it."

You could feel Rain's hesitation, the tension in her shoulders as she considered Tyler’s words. Her past with him and the others still held sway, the memories of better times, of a time when things weren’t so complicated.

"Rain," Tyler said softly, his voice almost breaking, "I just don't want to end up like our parents. Do you?"

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of them pressing down on everyone in the room. Rain's eyes dropped to the floor, her breath shaky. You saw the pain of loss and fear reflected in her eyes—the fear of a future that might hold nothing but more suffering.

"Is your plan as simple as you make it sound?" Rain finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tyler nodded earnestly. "You won't even have to get out of Corbelan. I promise. Just help us get Andy onboard, and he can handle the rest. What do you say?"

The room fell silent as Rain weighed her options. You stayed close to her, your hand still wrapped around Andy's, ready to back her up no matter what she decided.

You knew this was a pivotal moment, one that would set the course for all of you, and you could only hope that whatever choice she made would be the right one.

☆

☆

A bitter taste of anxiety filled your mouth as the cargo ship beneath you began to rumble, the vibration resonating through your bones. The hauler Corbelan IV shuddered as it powered up, the engine's growl echoing in the confined space.

The sound was a constant, thrumming reminder of the risks ahead, of the dangerous path Rain had chosen.

Navarro sat at the controls, her fingers deftly gliding over the panel, flipping switches and pressing buttons with practiced precision as she fired up the systems.

Her expression was one of intense focus, eyes glued to the readouts and screens that flashed with data. "I'm firing her up. Batteries are online," she called out, a mixture of concentration and excitement in her voice.

To her left, Kay was curled up with her head leaning against the wall, her eyes half-closed, a hand resting protectively on her belly.

Tyler was seated next to Rain by the window, his gaze fixed outside at the expanse of space, a slight furrow in his brow, adding onto the tension on his face.

Your seat was beside Andy, who sat quietly, his face a serene mask despite the chaos around him. "Dee, you know you can back out of this anytime, right?" you whispered, searching his synthetic eyes for any sign of doubt or hesitation. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Andy turned his head slightly to face you, his expression neutral yet somehow comforting. "My directive is clear: to do what's best for Rain," he replied calmly. "If this mission will help make that possible, then that's what I will do."

You nodded, trying to hide the concern gnawing at your insides. "Just... be careful," you said softly, knowing it might be pointless but needing to say it anyway.

Your heart heavy with worry but also filled with a strange sense of pride. Andy wasn't just a machine to you—he was family. And like any family member, he was stepping up to help in a time of need, even if it meant facing unknown dangers.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Bjorn standing cockily, his straps keeping him upright as the ship tilted slightly. He pulled out a cigarette, a grin plastered on his face as he lit it up, the flame from the lighter stretching unnaturally high in the low-pressure cabin.

The sight made your stomach churn—Bjorn always did have a way of ignoring common sense.

"For fuck's sake, put that shit out, Bjorn," you snapped, your tone sharp. "We're in a sealed environment, dumbass."

Bjorn just smirked, taking a slow drag before putting the cigarette out on the metal wall. "Relax, Y/N," he drawled. "Just trying to take the edge off."

Navarro's voice cut through the tension, clear and commanding. "Hydro, please. Comm panel," she called out, glancing back to check if everyone was secured.

"Ground spoilers," someone called out.

"Activated," Navarro confirmed, her hands moving over the controls with practiced ease as the ship prepared for takeoff.

The ship's cabin was filled with the sounds of various systems coming online, a mix of beeping, whirring, and the occasional hiss of steam or hydraulic fluid. "Now comes the pressure," Navarro noted, focusing on the controls as she maneuvered the ship.

The ship shuddered again, and you felt the engines roar to life beneath you, thrusting you back into your seat. Your breath caught in your throat as the hauler broke free from the artificial gravity of Jackson Star and launched into the black void of space.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Andy asks, his voice steady, cutting through the growing noise.

You nod, gripping the armrest tighter. "Yeah," you reply, though you're not entirely sure. "Yeah, I'm fine, Dee."

The minutes ticked by like hours as the ship continued to climb, the view outside the window shifting from the dark, soot-filled skies of the colony to the endless expanse of the cosmos.

The stars outside the window seemed to shimmer and shift as you broke through the upper atmosphere.

You see Rain's eyes widen as the first glimpse of stars becomes visible, a glimmer of hope in her gaze.

"Take a good look at the view," Bjorn chimed in. "Because we will never come back."

Tyler leaned closer to Rain, concern evident on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Rain nodded, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt. "I'm fine," she replied, more to convince herself than anyone else.

Bjorn laughed as he looked at everyone's serious faces, a harsh, mocking sound. "Now, isn't this a good idea?"

The distant sun casted a warm, golden glow across the metal of the hauler, its light diffusing gently as it mingled with the faint glimmers of distant galaxies.

Rain's eyes were glued to the viewport, her face illuminated by the distant glow of the sun. "Is that...?"

"Yes," Tyler confirmed, following her gaze. "That's our sun."

You watched as a soft smile spread across Rain's face, her eyes filled with a mixture of awe and longing. "Yvaga had to have the most beautiful sunsets," she murmured. "I have seen them... in dreams. I look forward to seeing them with you."

Tyler nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "Cryosleep is said to feel like a drunken night. So when we wake up at Yvaga tomorrow, it will be with a hangover."

Navarro's voice came through again, this time softer, more reverent. "There she is," she whispered, her gaze focused on the distant object looming ahead. "Our destination."

You leaned forward, peering out the window as the silhouette of the derelict spacecraft came into view. It was massive, a sprawling structure drifting silently through space. "That's not a ship," you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.

Bjorn, still standing, scoffed. "No, it's not," he agreed. "Looks like a scrapped space station."

"Seems that it's divided into two parts—Romulus and Remus." Navarro corrected, adjusting the trajectory slightly to match the station's roll. "Huh, wonder what's in there."

Your heart pounded as the realization sank in. This wasn't just an abandoned ship. This was something far more complex, something that might be filled with more than just the cryostasis chambers you needed.

A part of you wondered what else Weyland-Yutani might have left behind, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

Navarro's hands flew over the controls, adjusting their course to avoid the oncoming debris. "Everyone hold on," she ordered, her voice steady but strained. "This is gonna be a bumpy ride."

You glanced at Andy, his expression calm and focused, and felt a small flicker of reassurance. He was ready, and so were you. Whatever came next, you would face it together.

The cargo ship thrummed beneath you as it adjusted its course, the tension in the cabin thick enough to cut with a knife. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

When you opened them again, the station loomed closer, a dark silhouette against the stars, and you knew there was no turning back now.

A/N: lololo, i just can't get this lil fic out of my head. by the pace i'm going, i'll end up writing the whole damn movie out 🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️ anywho hope i didnt bore you all, tried to make it different instead of just plastering y/n into the story with no changes, lolol, i even trie to add a lil synthetic prejudice 💀 oohh can't wait to get to the part wheree we learn about bjorns hate for synthetics

Tag List: @dreamsarenicer

[sorrowfulrosebud]

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙: Yandere Frost Headcannons

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Yandere

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Yandere content, take that as you will, mentions of murder and beheading, forced amputation, mentions of pneumonia, abuse (physical and verbal), isolation, punishments

༒ Frost is a… tricky yandere to deal with.

༒ She isn’t necessarily the nicest yandere, very cold (haha funny joke) and unaccommodating to her darling.

༒ She is desperate to be the centre of her darling’s attention, and will slowly remove “distractions” from their prison until she is the only thing they get to interact with.

༒ She is not above hurting her darling with her powers in order to get them to behave. Frost often forgets that they’re human, not a cryokinetic cyborg so you better stock up on cold and flu tablets.

༒ Due to her backstory and her need to be the best, she goes out of her way to bring her darling things she thinks they need, but throws tantrums when they don’t like it or new clothes don’t fit. It’s difficult enough surviving in the Netherrealm as a cyborg, so she struggles trying to keep you alive.

༒ You have to obey her every command if you want to keep your limbs. Her demanding nature requires you to obey her in order for her to feel powerful and respected, so unless you want pneumonia and a frozen leg you better listen.

༒ She DOES love you very much, but she has immense trouble demonstrating it. Her only real love language is acts of service since it doesn’t require her saying “I love you”. Any attempt to compliment you ends in insults if you look uncomfortable or stare at her weirdly.

༒ Very very easy to trigger. If you do or say something that irritates her, she will let it be known.

༒ It’s jarring being her captive. One day she can be slightly relaxed, sitting in the same room as you and staring at you (hey, I never said she was lovey-dovey or aware of social cues), or angrily yelling if you roll your eyes at you.

༒ She is a very commanding yandere. Frost doesn’t care that you had a life before her or that you want to go back home. In fact, she’s more likely to behead any of your loved ones as a statement of ownership and keep the head in your icy prison.

༒ Frost would 10000% freeze your legs off and get Kronika to create you robotic legs that she can create, but that’s only if you do something so unforgivable such as trying to escape.

“(Y/N) YOU LITTLE BITCH! GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW IF YOU WANT TO FUCKING LIVE!” Frost screamed as she chased you, trying to find you so she could rain hell down on you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, short panicked breaths turning into white puffs in the crisp frozen air. You had managed to escape the cuffs, but panicked when you heard Frost’s heavy metal legs cross the threshold.

Your eyes flitted across the Lin Kuei cottage, locking onto a window. Frost was growing more and more angry, her powers freezing nearly everything. You ran, opening the window…

Only to yelp in pure pain as your bottom half was stuck in the cottage. You whimpered in pain and fear, wriggling and yelling for help as the other Lin Kuei members just went about their lives.

“You stupid fucking bastard. You thought you could run away from me?! You better say your fucking prayers, because by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for mercy!” She screamed.

You ended up passing out from the pain, only to wake up a few hours later.

Everything stung, but you were dowsed in sleepiness. Frost enters the room, causing you to freak out. Heavy metallic clanging made you look at your wrists. Both were encased in thick metal cuffs. Your heart was pounding, scared to death of Frost and her wrath.

She seems unbothered as you struggle, only throwing you a glare which makes you tearfully simmer down.

“You tried to escape.” She says bluntly, standing near the bed you were chained to. You began to stammer out excuses, before shutting up as Frost punches the wall near your face.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP. You tried running, now look at the consequences.” She snarls lowly as she rips back the sheets.

Instead of your legs, you were greeted with…

Nothing. From below the stump of your thighs, your knees were completely gone. No calves, no feet, no toes. No way out.

Bile rises in your throat as you begin sobbing uncontrollably. Frost just looks on in slight discomfort. She clears her throat.

“You knew the rules, and you broke them. Kronika is creating a new pair of legs that match mine and that will be under my control. Use this lesson wisely,” she reprimands. You barely heard her through your panic attack, turning your head to vomit.

Frost only looks on in disgust, only feeling slightly guilty. She wanted you to love her and worship her the way she does you, but you couldn’t do that. Now,

You have no choice.

[icecoldwilliams]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐋: 𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐈𝐙𝐘𝐒 | ✲・*:✲・*:･ﾟ

|| TW: Grief, drinking, death, hinted suicidal ideation (if you brought your magnifying glass)

Humanity has such a understated habit of spreading turmoil.

Various causal hubris's parallel incurable viruses running rampant across the globe, left undetected by the immune system even without a soul spared from the infection. War, misgivings and countless tragedies often rooted in the minimized concepts of pride, jealousy, and senseless rage ; Mere misguided ideations disguised in order to justify even the indefensible.

Assumptions. Even something so simple, so moronic as assumptions could control the world in the right hands.

— Cold, cruel, merciless, unloving. An emotionless robot only capable of caring about monetary gain.

Idiots spread the labels given her throughout the masses in the form of insults, as if she didn't meticulously craft the initial mask herself.

She'd load the gun with blanks. And if it meant shrouding the more... undesirable truth, they could pull the trigger over and over again as many times as they please.

Let the bullets hit the frozen glass window on dreary grey nights, let them rain against it with the water dripping from the sky - but never, ever, pull back the curtain to the dim-lit condominium. ; Blind your eyes of the blonde sitting at the kitchen island, empty bottle of Jameson and it's half empty friend joining a downed glass of kin.

Fatal digits tonight not gracing euros, yen or dollars, but instead infirmly running across sorry excuses for 'names', made up of mere letters and numbers. Listed in a worn file only alongside otherwise meaningless dates, biological info and synonymous statuses printed in bold ink:

'ꜰᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ ; ᴅᴇᴄᴇᴀꜱᴇᴅ'

'ꜰᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ ; ᴅᴇᴄᴇᴀꜱᴇᴅ'

'ꜰᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ ; ᴅᴇᴄᴇᴀꜱᴇᴅ'

Victims of supposed sepsis. Embolisms. Organ failure. Repeated into the double digits. The words littered the pages like the alcohol tainted the assassins typically rational mind. Tempting her to again sit here, head in hand senselessly pondering the negligible. Reviewing the short lived, the manufactured, all that were apparently unfit for the cruel fate forced upon them. Debating useless questions in regards to how their lives could've played out.

Some nights it revolved around names and the string of them that followed based on whatever pleased the cold woman's ears. Others, inherited traits, interests, career fields, genetics.....

Maybe they would've inherited her infamous azures, currently staring yet not seeing. Sans any despair.. ; Glassy yet winning against any hint of tears.

Any hint of love.

If anything, outsiders wouldn't see the traces of responsibility lacing the withdrawn for mere blips with only two left to remember their existence.

For those on this list who wouldn't have been tortured, poked and prodded from the day of their conception to the day of their death if it hadn't been for rare misjudgment, and those who wouldn't find solace in a frigid heart, but atop resolute shoulders.

Only momentarily slumped under their weight.

Because come tomorrow, the sun would rise even if behind remaining clouds. Her head would pound. Files would again be concealed both where only she would be able to find them and where she would never look without whiskey's aid. And just as expected, ever frigid Nina Williams would walk per usual, head held high, shoulders back.

No cracks in the apathy. Burdens invisible and never assumed just as she preferred. Spite fueled and dwindling will again go toe to toe with loose ends. ; Bodies lost to an uncaring and all but considered mythical sea.

— Even had fate been different, the mercenary wouldn't love the negligible names. One sole survivor walking this earth was enough. - But for now, at the very least, this cold hearted bitch would live for them to both be remembered and stay drowned far below sheets of ice another day. | ✲・*:✲・*:･ﾟ

[thescrump]

Through It All: A Sonamy Story - Chapter 4: "Just Another Day"

The sun was shining brightly over Emerald City as Sonic raced through the streets, his eyes scanning the skyline for any sign of trouble. It had been a few months since his last run-in with Dr. Eggman, and things had returned to somewhat normal. However, Sonic knew it was only a matter of time before Eggman would try something new to take over the city.

As Sonic ran, he spotted a large plume of smoke rising up from the train tracks in the distance. With a sense of urgency, he increased his speed and made his way towards the source of the smoke. The acrid scent of burning metal filled the air as thick smoke billowed into the sky. Sonic's keen eyes captured the vivid colors of orange and black swirling together, while the screeching sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through the train tracks. As he approached the train, he could see that it was an Eggman robot wreaking havoc and destruction on the train cars. Without hesitation, Sonic leaped onto the roof of the train and charged towards the robot. The robot was trying to cut through the train's roof, before being hit by an aerial kick from Sonic. The force of Sonic's kick sent the robot skidding across the train's roof. “I present the Egg Assassin!” Eggman said from the machine’s speakers as it got up. The Egg Assassin attempted to deliver a punch, but Sonic dodged and hit the robot swiftly. He quickly followed up with a flurry of punches, kicks, and Homing Attacks. However, the Assassin was no pushover, and it fought back with its own arsenal of lasers, fists, and missiles. Sonic ducked and weaved, avoiding the robot's attacks while trying to find a weakness. With each powerful kick and punch, Sonic could feel the vibrations reverberating through his body. The metallic clanks and thuds as his attacks connected with the Assassin created a symphony of aggression. 

As the fight intensified, Sonic saw a familiar person calling out to him. Looking up, Sonic saw Amy standing on the balcony of her apartment building, which was just within view distance of the train tracks. She waved towards him, and while Sonic was too far away to hear what she was saying, she seemed to be cheering for him. Sonic couldn't help but smile when he saw her, but his moment of distraction nearly cost him the fight. The Egg Assassin landed a powerful kick, sending Sonic tumbling towards the edge of the train. He barely managed to grab onto the side of the train, his heart pounding in his chest. Eggman's voice crackled through the robot's speakers, taunting Sonic. "Aww, what's the matter, Sonic? Distracted by a girl?" Sonic's eyes narrowed in determination, and he gritted his teeth. "I'll show you being distracted," he growled, before launching himself back onto the robot. This time, Sonic was more focused, more calculated. He wrestled the machine, launching it onto another train car. "How's this?" he said in a more usual tone, his teeth braced. Sonic began quickly darting around the robot, constantly posing and showing off. He was trying to buy himself some time to come up with a plan. As he circled the robot, he noticed something. The robot's movements were a little bit off, like it was having trouble keeping up with him. Sonic grinned. "Looks like someone needs a tune-up. Did you spend your whole budget on insults?" he quipped, darting in for another attack. This time, he struck at a joint in the Assassin's arm, causing it to malfunction. The arm flailed wildly, and the robot stumbled backwards.

Sonic couldn't rest on his laurels just yet, despite the fact he had the advantage. The robot delivered a charging punch, sending both Sonic and itself off the train. The battle continued as they landed on the rooftop of a nearby building. Sonic was now determined more than ever to take down the Assassin, and he didn't let the fall from the train faze him. The two continued their fight, trading blows and dodging attacks, moving from rooftop to rooftop. The concrete rooftops beneath Sonic's feet felt gritty and rough as he shifted his weight, his movements quick and agile. The wind whipped against his face, tugging at his quills and carrying the distant sounds of honking cars and chatter from the city below. As they reached yet another building, the robot delivered a swift, downward punch, sending Sonic onto the rim of a balcony. The balcony of Amy's house. Sonic struggled to keep his balance as he hung precariously over the edge of the balcony, his fingers barely clinging on to the metal railing. As his fingers began to slip, a recognizable hammer poked out for him to grab on.

Amy quickly pulled Sonic onto the balcony. Simply seeing her made Sonic happy. His fright changed to a wide smile, wider than usual, and his eyes seemed to sparkle. This moment was fleeting, though. The robot looked down upon the two, and gave it's impression of sneering. It slammed down onto the balcony, ready to continue the fight. Amy looked at Sonic, her eyes shining with determination. "I'm with you," she said, holding her hammer tightly. Sonic nodded, grateful for her help. "Let's do this," he said, charging towards the robot. The charge sent the Egg Assassin spinning out, and one powerful swing of the Piko Piko Hammer sent it falling to its demise. As the dust settled, Sonic and Amy looked at each other, both catching their breaths.

Sonic couldn't help but notice the concern etched on her face, and he felt a warm feeling in his chest. As if reading his thoughts, Amy smiled at him. Sonic chuckled, feeling his heart swell. "Thanks, Ames. Couldn't have done it without you." He paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. "Sorry, but...I gotta go!" he said without even thinking. "I hope we can see each other soon.", he whispered to himself as he made a dramatic exit from the area. Sonic's adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he sprinted away from Amy's balcony. The cool breeze kissed his face, bringing a refreshing sensation that contrasted with the warmth in his chest. He knew he had to keep moving, even though part of him wanted to stay and talk to her. He was grateful for her help, but he couldn't let his guard down. Eggman was always planning something new, and Sonic had to be ready for whatever he threw at him next. As he ran, Sonic's thoughts wandered back to Amy. She had a crush on him ever since they met, but that crush seemed to have vanished. He wondered if it even was still real. "Maybe her other friends know more about Ames. I'll need to find out." he thought to himself. “But home is where I need to be now.” He raced off, a smile on his face.

[alj4890]

On the Run

(Tobias Carrick x F!MC) I'm a Choices Open Heart Drabble for Day 6 of Tobias Appreciation Week

A/N Just a short drabble of Chris seeing what kind of doctor Tobias is once he's at Edenbrook.

Rating: G for fluff.

@tobias-carrick-appreciation-week @jerzwriter @hopelessromantic1352 @choicesficwriterscreations @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

It took a while, but soon there were certain sounds that Dr. Chris Valentine became familiar with over the course of a few months. The soft whirring noise of the robots Leland Bloom had on every floor to help the nurses became the norm as Chris went from one patient's room to the next. Laughter from the children's ward each time Sienna and Rafael were working there. And of course the sounds of a particular doctor running down the hallway no longer made her heart pound in fear.

Tobias Carrick had a way of making everything exciting for Chris. His method of jogging through the hallway was meant to keep the interns on their toes. It reminded them that time was something most patients didn't have.

"Plus," he told her late one night, "it gives you a chance to admire the man you plan on marrying."

Chris did indeed take the time to pause and watch him in action. As much as she loved seeing how his mind worked in diagnosing the difficult, often undetectable maladies, watching his body get from point A to point B to allow that brilliant brain of his a chance to shine was almost as equally impressive.

She knew it wasn't a serious emergency when he flashed his smile her way. If he didn't or if he called her name as he ran past, she knew she needed to run after him to help out with whatever crisis was developing.

Once tensions between him and Ethan eased some more, Chris would often see the two make an impressive team as they ran from the diagnostic office to a ward their latest patient had been placed in.

One day at lunch, Chris asked Aurora about if he'd been that way at Mass Kenmore.

Aurora rolled her eyes. "You mean the running? Yeah, he did it all the time. Me and a few other interns had to huff and puff our way into most rooms, just to be in time to review cases."

"How was he as a mentor?" Chris asked.

"What do you mean?"

"We both were critiqued by Inez, Zaid, and Ethan. Those three couldn't be more different. What is Tobias like?"

Aurora set her fork down as she considered that. "I wouldn't say he is as sweet as Inez, but he also wasn't glaring at you either like Zaid. He isn't insulting like how Ethan could get. In fact, he basically uses his bedside manner with his interns."

"So he's a charming, funny mentor?" Chris asked.

"Pretty much." Aurora focused once more on her lunch. "He has no problem taking the time to guide an intern toward the correct conclusions for diagnoses and treatments."

Chris assumed as much. Most doctors went to Tobias with a question more so than they did Ethan. He was simply more approachable.

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

Later that evening in the diagnostics office...

"Hey." Chris leaned down behind Tobias to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Hey." He leaned back to meet her lips in a quick kiss. "You finished for the night?"

"I am." She rested her chin on his shoulder. "You?"

"Not quite." He gestured toward the laptop in front of him. "I've got a few things I need to show Ethan before I head home."

"You want me to wait?"

"No." He patted her arms still draped over him. "I'm not sure how long this will take."

"What are you working on?" Chris narrowed her eyes at the screen.

"I'm doing like you insisted."

She read a few of the convoluted lines. A delighted smile bloomed in the process.

"You're finally writing about your finding a cure to the maitotoxin!" She squeezed him in a hug.

"Why do you sound more excited about this than when I proposed?" Tobias teased.

Chris laughed as she pulled a chair up beside his. "Because you'll finally be getting the recognition you deserve!"

He shook his head. "I'm not doing it for that. I'm doing it to share the process of how I formulated the cure in case that helps some other doctor down the road figure out a way to find one for another toxin that doesn't have one."

"Which is how all doctor's takes should be when getting published."

He scoffed, fighting a grin over her compliments.

She propped her chin on her hand while watching him begin to type once more.

"Not that I mind being stared at, especially by you." He winked at her. "But you are very distracting."

"When do I get to read it?" Chris asked.

"You want to?" His smile dimmed. "I thought after going through it, you'd probably want to forget about it as much as you can."

"Of course I want to read not only what my hero did but also proudly show everyone I find what my soon to be husband wrote!" She snorted. "Just try and stop me."

His hand found hers as he took a deep breath.

"I'm not going to lie, Chris. This has been the hardest thing I've ever had to write."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm having to write this in a cold, clinical, completely detached fashion." His fingers laced with hers. "We both know that wasn't the case."

Chris lifted their clasped hands to press a lingering kiss upon his knuckles.

"I know." She said softly.

His eyes traced over her face. He could still remember the immense panic he felt when he found out what happened to her. Since they'd been keeping their relationship a secret at the time, he wasn't able to break down or curse with each failure. He couldn't tell the other doctors that she was the love of his life and he couldn't face the future without her.

He'd had to stay focused, not think too much about the precious minutes ticking by, and start once more on an antidote.

Writing it brought back every single torturous second of that day.

"Since Ethan's had more experience than I have with being published, he's been helping me with the mechanics and such."

"Good." Chris got to her feet. "Then I'll leave you alone so that you can get some work done."

A startled laugh escaped her lips when he yanked her down in his lap for a kiss.

What was meant to be a playful kiss goodbye changed the moment Tobias gently cupped her face.

Chris sighed into the tender, sweet way his lips moved over hers. It reminded her of the kiss he'd given her the moment he could enter quarantine safely.

Tobias pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed as he simply soaked in the warmth and vitality of her soft body. He needed that reminder now that he was at the part of going in depth with the symptoms of the maitotoxin and their effects on the human body.

Chris remained in his lap, knowing he needed her to be quiet as he dealt with being haunted once more from that horrific time in their lives.

He opened his eyes and met her steady gaze.

"Am I interrupting?" Ethan asked from the doorway.

"Not at all." Tobias kissed her cheek then released her from his hold. "Chris was just telling me she was on her way home."

"Ah." Ethan "Then I'll see you in the morning, Chris."

"Don't work too long." She ordered them both.

"No promises." Tobias replied.

She placed her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed as she stared them both down.

"Geez." Ethan laughed, nudging Tobias with his elbow. "I've never been more happy not to be you."

"You know I won't stay long." Tobias reminded her.

"Better not." She warned.

Chris motioned subtly for Ethan to step out in the hallway.

"Hang on a minute, Chris." Ethan called out when he realized she didn't want Tobias to know. "I need to ask your opinion about Jennifer Stanley's red blood cell count."

He told Tobias he'd be right back, as he followed her out the door.

Chris glanced back at the office then smiled at Ethan. "Thank you for this."

"For what?"

"For helping him write this. I know he wouldn't do it with just anyone, so thank you for encouraging him." She replied.

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck. "It's nothing. It isn't like I'm doing much other than helping occasionally with the wording."

She knew he didn't see it and Tobias probably didn't either. But she believed that their working on this after hours would help them rebuild the friendship they'd both once enjoyed.

"I know, but still. Thank you, Ethan." She said, waving goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He watched her disappear through the hallway's double doors, a slight smile on his face, then went back into the office to get back to work.

[wjbsart]

A way in which you could play with the concept of characters based on the 7 Deadly Sins/Heavenly Virtues but it's how I would design and characterise them if I was currently able of doing art stuff on my laptop (I've lost the pen for my drawing tablet 😔).

Ok so what you do is you invert the themes of each sin/virtue, but still give them the means to make people do their associated thing

Demons

Lust - ships people super-hard, but is aroace herself. Design would be a short female demon in a black jumper/sweater, with red-glowing circular glasses, hot-pink skin, and horns shaped like the male and female symbols.

Gluttony - can't eat, but really likes making food. Design would effectively be a jawless skeleton made of flesh, and would wear a stereotypical fast-food employee uniform. They would have grey-purple skin, and horns shaped like meat-cleavers.

Greed - doesn't like money, so he forces it onto others. Design would be the closest to an archetypal demon, but with skin resembling tarnished gold. He wears a tattered suit, and has two large horns shaped like the Pound symbol (£), connecting to the head at the top and curving down next to the face like a ram's horns.

Sloth - a workaholic that drains the energy of others in order to keep working. Design would be a generic office worker, with a stone TV for a head that displays sets of up to 3 emojis at a time, which is how he communicates. His horns are shaped like slightly-bent TV antennae.

Wrath - overbearingly nice and friendly, to the point she drives people to violence. Looks like a young girl with one eye, massive leathery wings and pale-red skin, wearing a black dress. Her horns haven't grown yet due to her age, but if she was older they'd be shaped like scimitar blades.

Envy - gives people enviable traits and stuff out of pity for them, but in less of a charitable way and more of a "Charles Dickens villain giving a street urchin five pounds to leave them alone" way. They look, well, like a Charles Dickens villain, wearing a Victorian suit with a top hat. Their horns are long and twist round the top of their hat, because I can't think of a better design.

Pride - a self-concious superfan that cheers people on to a ridiculous degree while conversly not liking themself. The most unusual-looking, they're essentially a giant ball of skulls wearing a beer-hat and telekinetically holding four foam-fingers that magically change to say the name of the person they're cheering for. Their horns - located on the largest skull - are cup-holders that they use to hold extra cans for their hat.

Angels

Chastity - collects people's repressed love/horniness and absorbs it into himself. Wears a partially-open silk shirt that exposes his chest, and has long hair. His halo is shaped like a heart, and his wings are dove-wings.

Temperance - has a hair-trigger temper, and will physically force people to be calm if they have to. Design is a robotic biker-dude made out of bike parts, with the exhaust pipes that make up their wings being how they vent their excess anger (in the form of red smoke) after the aforementioned forcing. Their halo is shaped like a cartoon anger-vein (💢).

Charity - basically Robin Hood in terms of premise and design, but instead of giving to the poor directly, they steal from greedy people and give to more charitable people. Their halo is shaped like a target, and their wings are large feathers.

Diligence - acts like the opposite of Sloth, being perpetually half-concious from channeling their energy into others. They wear a long T-shirt and bunny-slippers. Their halo is shaped like a cartoon orbiting star effect (💫), and their wings are giant "Z"s.

Kindness - insults people until they start acting nice. Looks like a normal teenage girl, but with pale-blue skin and no facial features, as well as a halo and wings. Her halo is shaped like a smiley face, and her wings are shaped like ticks/checkmarks. Her father is in a relationship with Wrath's mother, so the two are step-sisters, and Wrath sometimes comes along when Kindness hangs out with her friends.

Patience - can't think of one for them.

Humility - actively outperforms people to prevent them from getting too proud. A professional wrestler; her belt features an eyeball design and text that changes depending on what action she's performing. Her halo is another wrestling belt, and her wings are shaped like trophy-handles.

[bokunosimpfiction]

Kidnapped Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt.5

Summary: You feel emotions other than rage and sarcasm oh my god 

A/N: The reason I took a break from this series was because I had no idea where to take it from that cliff hanger, and I felt that character development needed to be done before we dive head first into the plot. This is part of that, but keep in mind it’s not filler like Chapter 2 became. I think it’s funny that this was SUPPOSED TO BE A FUCKING ONE SHOT BUT APPARENTLY FUCKING NOT. I’ll be posting another chapter for this series soon. Also feel free to send me asks about this series. I’ve been getting comments on my ao3 that are a) genius b)hilarious and c)heartwarming. Talk to me. Please! Ask and anon should be open right now let me know if they aren’t!

Masterlist link for previous parts:

Link to this chapter on AO3:

Taglist: @localdepressedvampire​ and one person recieving updates via email

The fresh cold late-autumn air made your lungs sting. And the layers of clothes didn’t help fight the chill you didn’t know you were facing. Has it been that long since you’ve been outside, to see the sun? You stick your arms in your armpits under your outercoat. Well, Heisenberg’s spare trench coat. It was much too big, the cuffs of the sleeves going well past your fingertips and the bottom half an inch from the ground.

You were so used to the fluorescent lighting and the warm dry air of the factory, that your body went into some type of culture shock. It felt like an allergic reaction to the outside world itself. Adjusting to it once you escaped would be hard.

“You’ve clearly become less fit since you started living with me,” Karl says in a matter-of-fact tone. You’d be insulted if you didn’t hear him say weird stuff about the other lords or the occasional brain-washed villager who brought up offerings. One had sewed you a wool and fox-fur dress and brought it up in September, in preparation for the winter. He’d thought it dumb at the time, but it protected you from the November chill better than anything you’ve ever worn.

Did they think you were a woman? Whether they were right or wrong, it didn’t change the fact that it was comfortable, warm, and made you feel better than the clothes you’d been wearing before in the factory or even before. You felt safe.

“Of course, I have, I’ve been sitting on my ass,” you retort.

“Still see that sass is intact.”

“It’s something that’ll never leave me.”

“You’d make a terrible house-spouse.”

“That’s the point,” you sigh hard, and you can see the cold air in front of your face, “I had a whole ass college degree before I came here and got my ass kidnapped.”

Karl whips around and looks at you, tilting his head down to peer at you from above his glasses. “You have a college degree?”

“Why are you surprised? Did you think I was that stupid?” Even if the question is sarcastic and witty, you felt a pang of hurt reverberate in your heart. Did he really think you were that stupid? Apparently so.

“I have two masters. One in aerospace engineering and one in mechanical engineering. Double majored in those fields for my bachelors at Oxford on a full-ride scholarship of robotic engineering.”

His mouth drops open. “And I didn’t know about this because?”

“It never came up.”

He pinches his nose, “you could have been helping me this whole time in the shop, and I let you sit on your ass and play care-taker.”

“More like forced me.” At this point, you’ve stopped walking, and you’d be able to see the manor of Benviento if it weren’t for the fog.

“Besides the point.” He looks stressed. His eyebrows are furrowed, a deep frown is on his face and his whole disposition makes him look genuinely conflicted and upset. “Let’s just go.” He gestures for you to follow him and stomps up the path.

You follow him, trying not to slip in the mud. Converse doesn’t have great traction, you realized. Maybe you should have worn hiking boots. “Listen, dirty Dr. Doofenschmirtz-“

“I don’t want to listen to your dumb nick-names right now.”

You stop again, and your fists ball up at your side around the fabric of the sleeves of his coat. Your coat. The coat you’re wearing.

“Why the hell are you so mad at me!” It’s not a question. It’s an exclamation of emotion. For some reason, it hurts. Even if you despised him, hated him with all your being, having someone love you unconditionally felt nice. He was toxic at best, sociopathic at worst, and yet he loved you so strongly it tore the both of you so part. To feel that admiration has gone missing, even if for a second, sent you reeling. You can’t explain why you softened towards him.

“I’m not.” He keeps walking before he realized you stopped. He turned around to look at you. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just…” He looks for the words. He’d never been good at expressing himself, you realized. Better through actions than words. But you didn’t want him to act on whatever he was feeling.

You wait in silence, eye-watering, trying not to cry.

He sees and rushes over to you. His left arm wraps around you and his right hand gently grabs your chin, his index finger underneath to lift your chin up to look at him. “Don’t cry, you know I hate it when you cry.”

You struggle to take a deep breath, choke on it, and the world feels so much more dangerous. A million malicious eyes gazing into your soul, whispers of panic fill your brain, and flashing thoughts of running right now, of hurting him or you flash through like lightning in a foggy storm. Every damn thing feels hazy and thick and you’re choking on the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to. I don’t want you to be mad at me, I don’t want-“

“Take a deep goddamn breath.” You feel his tobacco-scented breath on your face. You can see panic flash through his eyes for a moment. You hate the smell, and it suffocates you even more. “You need to breath.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, and your breath shakes like a wasp nest about to fall from the highest branch. “Why are you mad at me?” This time you genuinely ask. You don’t want a reason, but rather a reassurance that he isn’t at all.

His lips form into a snarl that doesn’t come out before he presses them in a tight line. As he thinks. It makes you even more nervous. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the fact that I had an opportunity that went to waste.”

You look up at him. “Okay.”

He wraps his other arm around you and places his chin on your forehead. “Let me know when you’ve calmed down.”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and breathe.

In. Out.

In.          Out.

In. OUT.

In… out

In.

Out.

 In.

 … out.

“Do you feel any better?”

You wait a moment. “Yeah, I think so.” You ponder for a moment. “I think I had a lot of pent-up anxiety from everything.”

He stays quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

He places a kiss on the crown of your head, his beard ruffling your hair. “Are you not going to forgive me?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know yet. It’s…” How do I phrase this? “I worked hard for this anger. This anger to love me, to know I didn’t deserve this, to be kidnapped, to have my head ready to be mounted on a stick.” You continue, “if I stop feeling angry, if I forgive you, I’m afraid I’m losing that. That’s why I tried to escape because I loved myself, I wanted better for myself.”

“Was I… Was I not providing enough for you?” His question strikes you like an arrow.

“I-“ You stumble on you’re thoughts for a moment. “It’s less of you not doing enough, but more of the rough foot we started on.” You sniffle. “When I gave up, I felt like I lost a part of myself, all that I worked for. That degree included. I felt all my efforts, all my struggles that I faced outside this goddamn village had gone to waste. That it wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth it.”

You had promised yourself to keep him at arm’s length, to not give him clues to manipulate you. But you poured your heart out into his. You felt him shake and squeeze you tighter.

“Never. Ever. Feel like you aren’t worth it.” You feel something wet on your scalp. “You deserved better than each challenge that you faced, and each bit of hurt you felt along the way.” It’s his turn to choke on his words. He takes a shaky breath above you, and you can feel his heart pound faster. “You, darling, are worth everything.”

Something small inside you breaks. He’s just as human as you are, you realize. In this desperate attempt to escape, to fuel this hatred that’s worn you down, you’ve villainized a man that’s felt even more pain than you. A broken man, who thinks you’re the glue to put him back together. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to, but you do, because you’ve felt a fraction of the pain he’s felt, that he’s currently feeling, and it’s made your mind and bones ache far after the situation ended.

“And so are you, Karl.”

He unwraps his arms from around you. “Come one butter-cup, let’s go. Ugly-ass-psycho-doll is waiting for you. Says she wants you for a fitting and some tea party with her demented child, Angie.”

“Angie? Who’s she.”

“Well, you’re about to find out.”

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Smut

y/ht - your hometown

Chapter 3

****** 

You can’t lie and say you weren’t a little scared. 

It’s been two days since you confronted Natasha about missing her sessions and your mind has been reeling since then. 

Perhaps it worked, or maybe your timing had changed, but you’d ended up seeing her around more. You would feel her eyes lingering on you when you passed by her. 

She didn’t spend too long around you, just yesterday the two of you were in the kitchen together and before you could muster up the courage to say “morning” she was gone. 

Today is Friday.

The second you wake up you’re blinded by the sunlight pouring through the windows. Had you not kept yourself up last night with anxious thoughts of today you would’ve taken the intrusion like a champ, blinking through the pain of the light, and jumping up with fervor.

But since that’s exactly what you did, you grimace at the light, and fall back on to the bed. You sling your arm over your eyes to secure the darkness around you and let yourself lay there thoughtlessly for a moment. 

‘Miss Y/L/N you have a scheduled appointment with Agent Romanoff in one hour.’

Damn you for inputting your schedule into F.R.I.D.A.Y’s system.

“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

A single minute ticks by and you fling yourself out of bed.

The shower you take helps to ease your state of mind, but you’re not fully relaxed until you take your first sip of tea. As usual, the warmth of it does wonders to your body and you hum in enjoyment.

Feeling like you’re now ready to face whatever is about to happen, you leave out of the kitchen.

When you enter your office you startle. 

Natasha stands at your filing cabinet, back facing you, as she fingers through a manila folder. 

“Stark made sure to put everything in here.” She comments, making no move to look at you.

Heart still pounding, you think of a reply,“ that’s what he said.”

The woman’s shoulders bounce when she scoffs,“ still playing at that huh? Do you think I believe that you didn’t read this?”

Your prolonged silence makes her finally look at you. She takes in your incredibly comfortable looking outfit, gaze lingering on the fuzzy animal designed socks, then snapping up to your face to see nothing. There was no expression there, just you watching her as she does you.

“Help yourself to any of the snacks in the cabinet or the drinks in the fridge,” you step around your chair to the other filing cabinet to pull out the empty notebook you had intended to use for her sessions,“ and feel free to make yourself comfortable Miss Romanoff.” You gesture to the couch against the wall.

Deciding not to let her intimidate you, you sit in your chair and stick your feet underneath you. All the while Natasha continues watching you.

Truthfully, with the knowledge that she’s already made up her mind on you, you wonder what’s making her watch you so intently.

When the woman moves to stand behind you, the hairs on your neck stand up. Goosebumps erupt, not in a sexual tension kind of way, but in a ‘she could kill me right now and I’d be helpless’ way. But you aren’t scared.

She leans down, arms crossing as she rests against the back of your chair.“ I don’t trust you Y/L/N. I don’t trust someone who doesn’t have a dark side.”

You shake your head,“ you don’t trust me because you don’t know me.”

“I think I do.”

“Tell me.”

Finally she walks around you. Instead of sitting on the couch, she sits on the coffee table directly in front of you.

“You were born in y/ht, father wasn’t around so your mother moved the two of you to New York. You went to a fancy little school in Brooklyn and had doors opened for you all throughout your academic career. Since you were born with your empathic abilities you automatically felt like you should help people so you majored in Phycology and Sociology and became a therapist after you graduated.” 

Listening intently to everything she says almost makes you laugh, but you know she’s serious and you don’t want to insult her in anyway.

Sitting forward, you lean on your knees,“ it seems you didn’t extend to me the same courtesy I did you.” She quirks a brow.“ Anyone can read my file Miss Romanoff. That doesn’t mean you know me. They’re facts of my life sure, but that’s not who I am.”

Before you indulge her clearly curious mind, you sip at your tea, slightly enjoying making her wait.

Natasha isn’t stupid, you never even began to think that. She prides herself on knowing things so of course she looked into you before you even entered the building most likely. But as you said, a file can’t tell you who a person is.

“My name is y/f/n. I was in y/ht. My dad was around, always drinking and waiting to kick the crap out of myself and my mom, which resulted in me sleeping in a locked closet to avoid his anger. When I turned ten my mom finally left him and we moved to Brooklyn.”

She would never admit to being shocked by that but you feel that she is. 

You continue,“ I did go to a fancy school but not a single door opened for me that I didn’t open myself. My powers manifested right before I enrolled in school, so when I got there my brain lit up like a power plant and I had no idea what to do about it. I struggled to get through school every day because it was too much to feel everyone’s emotions all at once. Which means my grades were shit for a long time.

I just barely made it through school and lucked into graduating. I didn’t learn how to handle my powers until college. Also, I became a therapist because I know if I had someone to talk to growing up I would’ve felt a hell of a lot better and decided that I’d like to help people in the way I hadn’t been. And for the record, I don’t use my powers with my patients unless given explicit consent to do so.”

Her mind is full of thoughts. She’s processing everything you’ve told her and trying to understand how she had missed all of that. 

Natasha has been learning how to read people her whole life. She’s mastered the ability to conceal her true emotions behind what she want’s people to see and thought she knew how to detect when someone else was doing the same.

Apparently she wasn’t that good at it. Or she is and you’re just really good at hiding.

The sound of a plastic wrapper opening grabs her attention and she looks at you.

You bite into the sweet little pastry before looking at her,“ oh did you want one?” 

She shakes her head.

Chewing and swallowing, you speak up again,“ you didn’t know because I didn’t want you too. I’m here to help the team, they all have more than enough going on, they don’t need to be feeling guilty about unloading their issues on someone who’s had a shitty hand as well. Besides I’ve worked past it and I refuse to let that define me.”

“I imagine it’s not easy to take on their emotions as well as your own.” She acknowledges.

“Nothing I can’t handle. And it’s worth it regardless of it’s difficulty.”

“Tony brought you in, I take it you worked with him before then?”

You shrug,“ we’ve spoken off the record a couple of times. I met him through Pepper who was my previous patient.” 

She nods, just barely looking intrigued by that. 

It’s quiet between the two of you for a while.

In said time you finished your tea, ate yet another snack, and reorganized Sam’s files(the man had taken it upon himself to put them away after your last session and started reading them, of course he didn’t put them back in the proper order).

Just as you’ve decided to go get some more tea she speaks up.

Her eyes had been on you this whole time, only now they lock with yours,“ you should lock your filing cabinets. It’s careless to leave them open for anyone to get to.”

“They are locked. Only myself and the patient who the cabinet belongs to can open it. Fingerprint scanners are on the underside of every handle.” 

She narrows her eyes at you,“ how’d you get my fingerprints?” 

You don’t answer, just giving her a smirk instead.

No, you can’t answer because you don’t know where they really came from. While talking to Tony about securing the files you’d obviously thought keys but he said that was too much and that he’d “handle” it. 

Somehow he got the teams fingerprints and yours. But you shouldn’t have expected anything less of the genius billionaire.

“I’m going to get some more tea, if you plan to stay, would you like something?” You ask, stopping with your hand on the door.

Natasha nods,“ tea.”

When the door shuts behind you, you release a breath that you felt like you’d been holding the whole time. You drop your head, looking at your shoes as you think.

You don’t think she’s playing at any angle, in fact you know she isn’t. But you also know she’s avoiding.

You can be patient though. She’ll run out of things to ask you and if not you know exactly how to gain control of a conversation. 

Deciding you didn’t want her to come find you lingering outside the door like a weirdo, you walk away. 

Tony, Steve, and Bucky are in the kitchen when you get there. 

“T, glad you’re here, I need a coffee maker in my office.” 

He looks from Steve to you,“ I was wondering when you’d ask for one. Thought you were a robot for a minute there.” 

You roll your eyes, greeting Steve and Bucky instead of replying,“ morning Steve, morning Buck.” 

“More like afternoon but hey.” Bucky says.

Eyes wide, you look to the clock on the wall. It is indeed two in the afternoon. There’s no way you were in there that long with Natasha. You swear it was much shorter than that.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks, noticing the frown on your face.

You nod,“ just lost track of time.” 

Tony scoffs,“ Romanoff givin you a run for your money huh.”

“I don’t discuss my patients Tony.” 

No one misses the fact that you’re fixing two cups of tea though and that does make them wonder how you’re doing with Natasha.

While she hadn’t spoken to you she obviously talked to her team so they were privy to the way she felt about going to see you. Steve was worried that she’d be less than nice to you and Tony just knew she wouldn’t take to you too well.

He also knows you so he was sure you would get to her eventually.

Once you’re finally finished up you smile to each of them and leave out. 

Entering your office this time, you partly expect her to be gone. So you’re just barely surprised to find her resting against your desk, flicking through the notebook you were writing in for her.

“I’m consciously deflecting in order to avoid addressing my traumas.” Her gaze flickers up to you,“ and what traumas do you think I’m avoiding Y/N?”

You move forward, stepping lightly, until you stop in front of her. Handing her a cup of tea you tilt your head a little,“ you tell me. While some people know exactly how to push trauma away, almost avoiding it completely, you accept yours and use it as motivation.”

 A small, adorable hum leaves her lips as she sips the tea, but it’s quickly forgotten when she looks at you with those piercing green eyes. It’s clear she want to hear what else you have to say, but you’d much rather she talk.

“Miss Romanoff, I can only observe you and make my own conclusions but I’d much rather know the truth. And only you can tell me that. So I’m listening, whenever you’re ready to address the issue.” 

With that said, you smile softly, and go to sit on the couch. Your actions cause Natasha to raise a brow. Admittedly she’s not sure why you chose to sit there instead of your own chair.

Simply put, you did so for her to feel comfortable. It’s clear Natasha feels comfortable when she’s in control and you’ve deduced that she doesn’t feel completely in control with you. 

Giving her your seat is your way of handing her control. You’d learned that while the seat doesn’t mean control in itself, usually the person sitting in it(you in this case) drives the conversation. That’s how patients feel, in the beginning at least. It’s all mental really but it’s the best you can do.

Cautiously, Natasha sits in your chair.

“I see nothing wrong with being motivated by the past.” She starts, her eyebrow quirking challengingly.

You shrug,“ neither do I. I’m motivated by my past. But objectively speaking I believe your past is holding you back more than it motivates.”

“And let me guess, you can’t tell me how.” She smirks as if she’s won something.

“Nope,” you pop the P in the word and smile back.“ But that’s because I don’t know anything about you. We both know the only way that’ll change is if you trust me. And that will only happen if you keep coming to see me.” 

When she stands to leave you’re expecting it.

“You know Miss Romanoff,” she stops at the door to look at you,“ I may not have dealt with issues such as the ones you and your team have presented me with, but I am qualified to do this job. I find it slightly offensive that you don’t trust me to.”

Just like before your words leave Natasha thinking that she has definitely misjudged you. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued by you.

******

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o @nat-km-mh @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers

[fruit-teeth]

Matters of Time and Fate (Chapter 22)

Over the bathroom sink, Zhanna washed some dirt off her hand and watched as it disappeared down the drain. She and Soldier had spent some time attempting to relocate the raccoons into a small shelter, and while they had succeeded, it had not been clean work in the least. As she managed to dry off her hand on a nearby towel, Lar-Nah entered the bathroom, kneeling down to open one of the bottom cabinets.

“What you looking for, old lady?’ Zhanna wanted to know, turning back to the mirror to fix her hair.

“I spilled some water on the floor,” Lar-Nah responded, ignoring the title Zhanna had graciously bestowed upon her. “I’m going to dry it off before I slip in it.”

“Oh. That is fine.” Zhanna nodded, and she undid the bandage around the stump of her other wrist to replace it with a new one.

Zhanna proceeded to apply the clean bandage to her wrist while Lar-Nah returned to her room. Once the bandage was on, she secured it with a clip and held it up to the light, pursing her lips together. Engineer had promised to make her a robotic hand, but he hadn’t said when he was going to get to work on doing that. She considered asking him about it, but everyone was so on edge lately that it did not seem –

From the room across the hall came a crash, and then an outraged shout. Zhanna froze, peeking through the doorway. “Old lady?” she called, but Lar-Nah did not answer.

Zhanna dashed into the bedroom, arriving just in time to see a frightening sight: a weird man with bug-like eyes had broken into the room. He'd come in through the ripped window screen, and he was currently standing over Lar-Nah, holding a gun to her head. Lar-Nah crouched on the floor, holding her arms up in a defensive position.

“Yell one more goddamn time and I'll blow your brains out, you damn hag!” the man said to Lar-Nah. He clearly hadn’t noticed Zhanna’s presence.

In an instant, Zhanna sprang into action, leaping across the room and punching the man square in the jaw. He fell to the floor with a yell, the gun falling out of his hand. Zhanna kicked it further away, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and lifting him up.

“Who are you!?” she demanded to know, getting right in his face. “Why you here!?”

The man only stared blankly at her, before reaching down and pressing a button on his belt. Zhanna noticed, and she growled, flinging him across the room. He slammed against the nightstand, knocking it over and shattering the bedside lamp on the floor.

“What was noise!?” Heavy’s voice boomed from downstairs, and within moments, he came rushing up the stairs and into the room. Behind him came Pyro and Engineer, and right away, they noticed the intruder.

Heavy helped Zhanna to restrain the man, and Engineer took it upon himself to confront him. “Did Sage send you!?” Engie demanded, looking the man up and down. He then noticed the button on his belt, squinting at it. “The hell is that…?”

“He press that button!” Zhanna explained. “Is it bomb!?”

Despite the man’s thrashing and protests, Engineer yanked the belt off of him, getting a good look at it. “It’s a tracking device!” he realized. “That button must signal someone!” he glared back at the man. “All right, bug-eyes: who’d you call just now?”

The man glared back, before answering, “The name’s Grudge. And why don’t you just wait and see, old man?”

A grappling hook zipped over the window sill and through the cut screen, lodging itself into the wall. Pyro dashed to the window just in time to see yet another man, this one muscular but short, ascending a rope towards the house. Pyro swiftly pulled the hook and tossed it back, forcing the man to fall to the ground with a shout.

“Good work, Py!” Engineer praised, but it was far from over.

Olivia was in the study, and she hadn’t heard much of what had happened. She'd been too preoccupied with looking through newspapers for a new crossword puzzle to notice the commotion, when the door behind her banged open. She turned around, seeing Scout standing there, a bewildered look on his face.

“There you are!” he exclaimed, dashing towards her. “You gotta go, Liv!”

“Why? What is it?” Olivia sensed something was wrong, but the door behind them burst open again before Scout could respond to her questions.

A broad-shouldered woman stood there, a machete in her hand. Her eyes locked on Olivia, and she made a move towards her.

Scout yelled, “Oh, no you don’t!” he then grabbed the edge of one of the bookcases, yanking it down in her path to block her from Olivia. The bookshelf landed right on the woman’s foot, and she screamed in alarm, trying to free herself.

Scout then scooped Olivia up, opening one of the windows and escaping with her. Olivia’s mind reeled, desperately trying to process what was happening. As she looked back at the house, she could see a man trying to climb up into the house through a different window. The intruder was immediately besieged by angry raccoons as Soldier yanked him back down.

Scout led Olivia to the shed, which she had helped Demo, Zhanna, and Soldier convert into a shelter just days earlier. Once Scout set Olivia on the ground, he opened the door and pushed her into the structure.

“Hide in here,” he told her breathlessly. “It’s gonna be okay!”

“But…” Olivia had little time to protest though, as Scout slammed the door. She pushed up a crate, using it to stand on so she could look into the direction he’d disappeared into. He ran back towards the house, grabbing his baseball bat on the way in. An explosion rocked the air, and she could hear Demoman shouting insults at someone.

So this was what fighting was like. Despite her father's constant exaggeration of the battles as if they were some incredible event, she'd never been present for one. The idea of being on a war field, battling and taking down the enemy piqued her interest every time he mentioned it.

But…now that she was here, she felt sick. The pit in her stomach returned, though it was darker this time, so much so that she had to sit down. She drew up her knees to her chest, staring up at the window, her young heart pounding against her chest.

She didn't know how much time had passed as she sat on the shed floor, shivering and mournfully contemplating how weak she was. Had she always been weak? Or had the men her father pitted her against only been too kindhearted to fight a child? Or…

The handle to the shed jiggled. Olivia froze, her eyes going wide as she stared at the handle, realizing with horror she hadn’t locked the door. Leaping up, she quickly locked it, before pressing herself against the door in attempt to hold it shut.

The handle twitched again, and someone banged on the door. “Come on, kid!” an unfamiliar man’s voice called. “We’re not gonna hurt you, we just need you to come with us!”

Olivia’s whole body tensed, her skin covered in a cold sweat. She looked all around the shed, spotting a shovel Soldier had left behind. She grabbed it, preparing to defend herself.

Outside, Rust tried the handle again, eventually settling on reaching for his gun. Jaws had told him this was where she’d seen the girl go, just after a bookshelf had crushed her foot. He wasn’t aiming to hurt this child, but he knew it was going to be inevitable.

The pop of the gun echoed through the air, and the doorhandle fell to the ground. Rust swung the door open, but right when he did, a steel shovel smacked him right in the abdomen. He doubled over with a yell. “God! Fuck! What the hell!?”

Hands trembling, Olivia wacked him again, this time in the head. Rust stumbled back, his eyes filled with palpable rage. He yanked the shovel out of her hand, throwing it back into the grass and grabbing her by the shoulders. “Come here!”

Olivia shrieked, and she began to claw at his wrists with her fingernails, drawing blood. He didn’t let go, though, just squeezing her tighter. Her heart pounding, she kicked her feet in desperation, trying whatever she could to get away.

Rust suddenly let out a pained yell, dropping Olivia and stumbling around in confusion. Olivia wondered if she had triggered that reaction, but as Spy uncloaked behind him, she realized it wasn't her.

Spy caught Rust by the collar of his shirt, twisting him around to confront him, still clutching the bloodied knife. “Such a man you are, going after a small girl!” Spy barked in his face, before looking back at Olivia. “Run! Run into the woods, go hide!”

Olivia struggled to her feet, and without thinking, she escaped into the woods like Spy had said. She dashed into the bushes till she came upon a stump and hid behind it, her whole body trembling with fear at what had transpired.

“Let me go!” being significantly bigger than Spy, Rust managed to shake him away, but Spy tackled him again and held the knife to his throat.

“Just tell me one thing,” Spy began with a snarl. “Is she the target!? Is that why you went after her!?”

Rust grit his teeth. “Like I’d tell you, you masked rat!”

Spy slashed his knife across Rust’s face, making him yell out again. “Talk or I’ll cut your throat!”

Rust shoved him off, cocking his gun and pointing it in Spy’s face. “Look, man,” Rust began. “I got a job to do! And if that means snatching a child up for a billionaire, I’ll do it!”

Spy reached for his own gun, but as it turned out, he did not have to shoot. A bullet whizzed through the air, shredding Rust’s throat and painting the grass red. From the direction of the house, Miss Pauling came running, her shotgun in her hand. When she came closer, she slowed, taking a moment to examine Rust.

“He’s quite dead, Miss Pauling.” Spy assured, trying to keep himself composed. “Thank you…”

“No problem,” Pauling panted. “God, I think they bit off more than they could chew with us,” she laughed breathlessly. “It seems almost too easy! I think—”

Spy cut her off. “Olivia is their target.”

Pauling trailed off. “I…huh? Wait, how do you know!?”

“He said so,” Spy replied, gesturing to Rust’s body. “Sage must be after Olivia, for some reason.”

“Oh, God…” Pauling ran a hand through her hair. “Where is she now?”

“In the woods, hiding.” Spy dusted himself up, looking towards the cluster of trees. “That coward attacked her – she’s terrified…”

Miss Pauling nodded sympathetically. “I imagine, damn…I’ll go check on her, you get back in there!” she gestured to the house.

Spy nodded, putting his gun back at his side and heading back. “Of course, Miss Pauling!”

Grudge believed it was best to escape as soon as it became evident that the mercenaries had the upper hand. Zhanna had locked him in the bedroom, but he'd escaped, running through the fighting and trying to flee through the kitchen window.

Sniper, on the other hand, had noticed him and was standing behind him with his rifle, muzzle aimed at the back of his head.

“I’d get away from there if I were you, mate,” Sniper warned, his voice low. Grudge paused, turning his head to meet Sniper’s eyes.

“Why?” Grudge snarked. “Are you gonna be mad at me? Huh? Is that it?”

Before Sniper could respond, Grudge tackled him to the floor, knocking the gun away from him. Sniper let out a shout, kneeing him in the stomach and tossing him across the kitchen.

Sniper lunged for his rifle as Grudge attempted to recover, but Grudge produced a gun without notice and fired one shot. The bullet only grazed Sniper’s shoulder, but it was enough to knock him back against the cabinets.

Groaning, Sniper struggled to get back up, but Grudge stood over him, pointing the gun right in his face. “Any last words, ‘mate’?” Grudge seethed, mocking Sniper’s accent.

The unexpected happened in what felt like a single second: Sniper observed Lar-Nah standing behind Grudge, but before he could figure out what she was up to, she lifted the microwave from the cabinet and slammed it down.

It fell directly onto Grudge’s head, the glass door shattering around his skull and sending him into stunned shock. He dropped his gun and gasped for breath within the kitchen appliance as he staggered backwards, dropping to the ground. Sniper watched in disbelief as Lar-Nah stood calmly over Grudge, his body twitching two more times before stopping.

“Old hag, my ass,” Lar-Nah spat. She then turned to Sniper, looking at his shoulder. “He shot you, didn’t he?”

“Oh,” Sniper checked his wound. “It’s not serious, he only nicked me. I…” he rose to his feet, blinking. “You…you just…you saved my life!”

Lar-Nah glanced back down at Grudge’s body, and then up at Sniper. “I did,” she scratched at her shoulder. “The microwave was a gamble, but I knew it would work if I angled it just right and—”

“Hey,” Sniper reached out, placing a hand on her arm. “Thank you.” he looked in her eyes, showing her his gratitude was genuine.

There was a brief pause, and Lar-Nah smiled back a little. “You’re welcome.”

Sniper's attention was drawn away by the pop of another gun from the living room, and he dashed to the doorway to see what was going on. Much to his surprise, Helen was standing over one of the intruders, holding a revolver in her hand.

“Took her long enough to show up,” Sniper muttered, realizing that this was the first time he’d seen her since the attack began.

Helen lowered her gun, staring at the woman she’d cornered and glaring down at her.

“I assume Sage sent you,” Helen began, her voice low and menacing. “And if he did, I’d like you to take back a message for him.”

Shell staggered to her feet, wiping blood from her mouth. “Fuck you,” she snarled. “I’m not taking back any message for you, bitch!”

“Oh? Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear,” Helen pointed the nozzle of the gun at Shell’s jaw, lightly tapping it. “When you see Phoenix Sage, tell him that he’s a fool if he thought he could take me down this easily.” She then gestured to the mess that was the battle’s aftermath. “You’ve lost a few of your teammates already, it’s in your best interest to leave before we kill the rest of you.”

“You…bitch,” Shell repeated, her eyes bearing a cold, steel glare of hatred. She backed off, however, knowing she and her remaining teammates were outnumbered. “I’m not gonna forget this, all of you are gonna pay for this shit!”

Helen could only stand there and watch as Shell gathered her live companions and walked out of the house, disappearing into the woods. Despite the fact that the mercenaries had plainly defeated the bounty hunters, they were certain to return: Helen was well aware that people like that didn't go down without a fight.

Sniper took that moment to approach Helen, clearing his throat. “You’re not gonna…kill all of them? They’re gonna tell someone.”

“Oh, please,” Helen scoffed. “They’re bounty hunters. They won’t go to the authorities, I know these kinds of people…” she smoothed her blouse out and took a breath. “Anyway…you and the others, clean this place up. I’ll be hosting another meeting to discuss what just happened here.”

As she walked away, Sniper couldn’t stop the glare that crossed his face. Once Helen was out of earshot, he muttered, “Yeah, sure, make us clean up after you did bloody nothing…”

Out in the woods, Miss Pauling searched high and low for Olivia. She hadn’t found her yet, and the panic had set in.

“Come on, Olivia, it’s okay!” Pauling assured. “That guy who grabbed you is gone, its okay!”

A twig snapped by the trees, and Pauling turned to look, going quiet. After a long, few seconds of silence, Olivia emerged from behind the stump.

Relieved, Pauling knelt down to examine her, fixing her hair. “Hey, hey! Are you okay?”

Olivia only nodded. She was still terrified, but she’d calmed down somewhat. Now she was just tired.

She rooted herself against Miss Pauling, murmuring, “I just wanna go inside…”

“Okay…yeah, I understand.” Pauling carefully picked her up, smoothing her hair back. “We’ll go inside, I’ll get you some juice and a snack, okay?”

Olivia nodded again, pressing her face into Pauling’s shoulder. She smelled like sweat and blood mixed with deodorant, but Olivia didn’t care.

Miss Pauling carried Olivia out of the woods and into the backyard, where Demoman immediately noticed them.

“Lasses!” he exclaimed, rushing up to examine Olivia. “Oh, wee thing, are you all right?”

Olivia sniffed, lifting her head. “Yeah,” she answered. “I hit a guy with a shovel.”

Demo smiled a bit at that. “Did you? Aye,” he ruffled her hair affectionately. “You look knackered!”

“I’m gonna take her to the kitchen for a snack,” Pauling explained. “She’s had a long day, and—”

“Oh, not the kitchen,” Demo grimaced. “Sniper’s mum took a lad out with the microwave in there.”

Pauling blinked, unsure if she’d heard that right. “A microwave!? Oh, wow…guess we’ll need a replacement. I can take care of that mess, though…” she sighed, handing Olivia to Demo. “Can you…I don’t know, keep her somewhere safe and quiet for a while?”

“Can do,” Demo nodded, accepting Olivia. “Come on, lass, let’s relax for a while…”

He took Olivia inside, situating her on the couch with a blanket and a glass of water. As Olivia sipped on the water, she watched while the mercs cleaned up the mess around them.

She couldn't decide how she felt...she felt much better now that the threat had vanished, but she couldn't stop thinking about the fight she'd been in. What had that man been planning to do? She didn’t even want to keep thinking about it, choosing to take another big sip of water instead.

Spy could see Olivia huddled up on the couch from the other room, and he could tell she was still terrified. A combined feeling of pity and anger burned within him, getting stronger as he glanced over his shoulder at Helen.

Perhaps Spy was not thinking straight after what had just occurred, but he blamed Helen. All of this happened because of Helen’s need for Australium, and now her own child was in danger. And did she care? That was a bit confusing...Helen was talking to Miss Pauling about something at the moment, but Spy couldn't tell what it was.

He sensed he couldn't keep what he knew about Helen a secret any longer as he went back to scooping up bullet fragments from the floor.

[sweetiepie08]

RebelZ Chapter 8

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall​

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.

[-]

The problem with back-seat space travel was, Dib decided, you couldn’t really tell where you were going. This was especially concerning with Zim at the helm. In fact, leaving Earth with Zim, having to rely on Zim to get home, was probably not the smartest move in the first place. But he did manage to get them to Ecore. The first leg of their mission was complete. All that was left was to go home. That should be the easy part.

However, Zim was concerningly quiet since the ship took off from Ecore. There was no scolding Gir, no boasting of his pilot skills, and not even a peep about whatever Kristlotch had said in the temple. Tak was able to explain the basics. Krislotch told them the secret history of the Control Brains, called rebellion hopeless, and insulted Zim multiple times. Perhaps Zim was just stewing over it. But, if that was all, why did he feel this crushing tension?

Something on the console beeped and Zim scrolled through a sea of Irken text, eyes darting between Dib and Tak. He hadn’t used the voice command system, which was especially odd. From what Dib learned operating Tak’s ship, voice commands was the standard for Irken tech. Zim had to have switched it off manually. The question was, why?

“Hey Zim,” Tak snapped, “that was Zorgad 16.”

Zim kept his eyes straight ahead. “So?”

“So we’re going the wrong way.”

“I know exactly where we’re going,” Zim countered.

“Clearly you don’t. Keep going this way and we’ll…” Her eyes grew wide as some horror dawned on her. “You scum!” she screamed, launching herself at him. “You traitor!”

“It is you who are the traitor!” Zim declared, barely holding her off.

Dib’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. “Zim, what did you do?”

“Gir!” Zim commanded. “Hide and seek! Now!”

“Okie Dokie!” Gir’s robot arms wrapped around Dib and Tak and threw them in the back of the ship with the cargo. “You hide!”

Before they could recover, a metal door slid down, blocking them off from the cockpit. On the other side, they heard Zim command Gir to count to 1 million.

Tak let out an enraged scream and pounded on the door. “Coward! Liar! Boot-licking little worm!”

Dib let his face drop into his hands. “I should have seen this coming. I’ve fallen for his schmoopy act before.”

“No, I should have.” Tak punched the door one more time before leaning her forehead against it. “When I discovered the truth, my first thought was of freeing my people. For that, I was branded traitor and my life clock went off. His never did. That is only possible if he was still loyal to the empire.”

“Can’t you blast through the door with your lasers?” Dib suggested.

A digital monocle popped out of the mechanism on her head and covered her eye. She examined the door for a moment before letting out a sigh. “If I set it powerful enough to penetrate the metal, it’ll also pass through the windshield, exposing us to vacuum space.” Defeated, she leaned her back against the door and slid down to the floor.

“So,” Dib said, sitting down beside her, “what now?”

[-]

Some time later, the ship approached the Massive. They noticed the change in gravity as a tractor beam grabbed hold of the Voot and sucked the ship onboard. They heard voices talking outside. One was certainly Zim, but Dib couldn’t make out what was being said. A few minutes later, the doors to the cargo hold opened and Irken soldiers dragged them out.

Dib found himself surrounded by tech he could only dream of, though the situation left him little room to marvel. The hanger held space craft so strange, he couldn’t being to imagine how they worked. The soldiers held weapons he’d never seen before. And above them all loomed the Tallest, living up to their title.

“Hmm… Urth humans really are tall,” the Purple one observed. “Not as tall as us of course but…” Dib assumed the reason for this one’s perfect English was that it was, in a way, talking to him.

“Yes and, as reported, dumb,” Zim added, “as evidenced by the fact he fell for my cunning trap. And, of course, I brought the traitor, Tak, as promised.”

“Yes, these two truly must be dumb if they fell for your plans,” the Red one said. Dib waited for Zim to react, but nothing happened. Unbelievable. Did Zim really not notice the insult, or did he just not care?

“Good work, Zim,” the Red one went on. “We knew we could count on you to bring in the traitor.”

Zim nodded solemnly. “Yes, she tried to sway my loyalty with her treasonous lies, but I never bought them for a second.”

Tak let out a growl and jumped to her feet. “Zim, you know damn well I never-AH!” One of the guards struck her with an electrified weapon, sending her back to the floor.

“And still she persists. Tragic.” Zim tsked and shook his head. “Now, about my reward?”

“Oh yeah, right,” the red one said. “We’ve got a party set up for you in the main snack hall.

Seriously? “You sold us out for a party?” Dib seethed, moving to get up. “You egotistical son of a-AH!” He was also hit by the same weapon, forcing him back to his knees.

Zim snickered and stood above him. “Zim is son to no one but the empire, Dib-stink.”

“Alright then,” the Purple one chimed in. “Now that everything’s settles, let’s execute these prisoners and get this party over with.”

“Wait!” Zim shouted. Everyone stopped and looked at him while Dib raised an eyebrow. What was he doing? “My Tallest, I humbly request to keep these two prisoners alive as trophies for my party.”

“But then we execute them after?” The purple one asked.

Zim nodded. “Oh yes, sure, of course.”

The Red one shrugged. “Okay, fair enough. Stick those two in a cage in the main snack hall until after the party.”

“Excellent!” A wide grin appeared on Zim’s face. “Gir, come with me,” he said, starting down the hall. “We must begin preparing my special punch.”

[-]

In short order, Dib and Tak were placed in a cage and forced to watch as Irkens mingled amongst themselves. They all took to it with the enthusiasm of the scientists in Membrane Labs attending the annual, mandatory, holiday party. They wore forced, uncomfortable smiles and attempted small talk. Every one of them looked like they were counting the seconds until they could drop the charade and return to their normal lives.

Suddenly, Zim’s robot popped up in Dib’s field of vision. “Want some punch?!” Gir shrieked, shoving a cup of purple liquid in Dib’s face. “It’ll make you sick!”

Dib cringed as he looked in the cup. “Uh… no thanks.”

“Gir! Get away from there!” Zim shouted, stomping up toward them. He grabbed the cup out of the robot’s hands and began pushing him away. “Humans and traitors don’t get punch,” he tossed over his shoulder as they walked off.

Dib watching Zim head up to the high table at the front of the room and sit down with his Tallest. Much like his dad at those holiday parties, these two were likely the ones who least wanted to be there.

Dib gave the bars another pathetic shake before giving up and turning to Tak. “So, you got any ideas?”

“What’s the point?” she asked, laying flat on the ground.

“Uh, the point is, if we don’t get out of here, we both die.”

“Is dying a prisoner any worse than living as a mindless slave?” She sighed and turned her head to look at the crowd. “Look at them all, human. They don’t even know what they lack. Every one of them is going to die serving the empire and none of them will be thanked or even remembered. Hundreds will be sent to their deaths and hundreds more will take their place. The smeeteries will replace them as fast as they’re killed off. That thing doesn’t care about sacrificing its own food because it can always make more. Kristlotch was right. It is hopeless.”

“You know, sometimes I feel like my people are slaves too,” Dib said, sitting down next to her. “Not to a hive mind parasite, but to other things. The media, corporate greed…”

“I know. I specifically targeted that flaw in my first conquest plan.”

“Right…” Dib rubbed the back of his neck as he thought about how well that almost worked. “Anyway, sometimes I think Zim is right. Humans stink.”

Tak shrugged half-heartedly. “Eh, Irkens are particularly sensitive to smell. You probably smell fine for a human.”

“No, I meant metaphorically,” Dib went on. “Anyway, my point is, just because humans stink now, it doesn’t mean I should give upon them. It’s one of the reasons I want to prove aliens exist so bad. I want people to know what’s out there. I want them to be a little better, a little smarter. I want them to stop worrying about petty problems and work together to improve the world. If they do, who knows? Maybe we can actually join this greater universal stage.”

Tak’s face stayed impassive as she considered his words. “Dib…” she began, sitting up, “not all humans stink.”

He smiled. “And not all Irkens are mindless slaves.”

“No…” Her eyes narrowed and the Tak he knew returned. “And none should be. Dib,” she said, jumping to her feet, “we’re breaking out of here.”

“Great!” he said, jumping up as well. “What’s the plan?”

“I…” she paused and her enthusiasm melted away, “need to think about it.” She sat back down on the floor, but her schmoop was gone. She sat with her back straight and one hand on her chin, thinking, plotting.

They were interrupted by a clinking sound from the high table. They looked to see the Red Tallest flicking the side of his glass with one long finger. “Alright everyone, Zim wants to give a toast with his punch. Everyone get a glass so we can get this over with.”

Gir handed out cups of punch to every Irken in the room.

“Did everyone get one?” Zim asked accepting one cup from Gir. The robot nodded. “Excellent!”

Dib shook the bars and let out a groan. “If only I knew what he was saying.”

Tak sighed, tapped her PAK, and a small microchip floated into her hands. She then reached up and shoved it into Dib’s ear.

“Ow, what was that?” Dib said, rubbing his ear.

“Back-up universal translator,” she explained with a groan. “I’m speaking Irken. You hear better now?”

“Yeah, why didn’t you do that earlier?”

“You didn’t bring it up.”

Dib shrugged, conceding her point, and they turned their attention back to the crowd.

“Come on,” the Red Tallest sighed, impatiently tapping his cup. “Make your speech so we can end this party and get back to important things.”

“Right.” Zim cleared his throat. “Friends, I stand before you today proof of what a true Irken can accomplish. Genius, ingenuity, ambition, these are the things that make an Irken great. With these an Irken can become whatever they want and crush their enemies. To victory!”

“To victory!” the crowd answered back and drank.

Dib kept his eyes glued to Zim though the speech. When Zim lifted his cup to his lips, Dib’s eyes went wide.

“Tak did you see that?” he whispered.

“What?”

“It's Zim. He didn't drink?”

“How can you possibly know that from all the way over here?

“He didn't tip his cup back far and he didn't swallow.” Dib explained. “And look.”

Zim's eyes scanned the crowd and he quickly checked something on his wrist.

“Is he checking the time? Look at him. He's up to something.”

Tak only responded with a skeptical look.

Dib sighed. “Listen, if I can be considered an expert on anything, it's obsessing over Zim, and you may not guess it from the everything-about-him, but he can be cunning when he wants to be.”

Tak got up and joined him at the bars. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Zim’s expression. “If you're right about this,” she mused, “then the question is, why does he want to be?”

The Irkens lowered their now empty cups, except for Zim who still held him onto his. “Yes, Irk is mighty and prosperous,” he went on, tapping a sharply clawed finger against his cup. “It's such a shame Spek couldn't share in our prosperity.”

“Spek?” Dib turn to Tak. “What's a Spek?”

Tak could only shrug. Dib looked back over at the crowd. They looked just as confused as he felt.

“Spek?” the Purple Tallest mumbled to the Red. “I don't remember any Spek.”

“Spek!” Zim shouted throwing, his cup down and jumping on the table. “The smeet who died in the Death Melee because of your attempt to have me killed! It wasn't your first attempt either. You sent me on my mission to Urth, hoping I’d get lost in the vastness of space.”

“Zim…” The Red Tallest said in a warning tone.

“You sent me to hobo 13 and bet on which drill would kill me.”

“Zim that's…”

“You lied to me about the true nature of the Death Melee so I would die for your entertainment. You gave me a smeet, one who hadn't even seen his first cycle yet, as my partner, just to lower my chances of survival. Do you deny it?”

“Enough, Zim!” the Red Tallest roared. “You can't speak to us like this!”

“I can! I am!”

“Remember you are speaking to your Tallest,” the Purple one shouted back.

“I have no tallest!” Zim declared proudly. “I don't take orders from you anymore, and I haven't since the Death Melee! For 0.3 cycles, I've dreamed of nothing but my vengeance and I shall have it!”

The Purple Tallest laughed. “Ha! Vengeance? Look around you. You're surrounded by the top tier of the Irken Armada. How exactly do you plan on getting past them?”

“Aww, too bad Zim,” the Red Tallest said with a mocking pout. “Looks like you failed, just like you always do. Your vengeance is over before it's even begun.”

Zim looked down on the device on his wrist. He smirked and looked up at his Tallest with the cold fury in his eyes. “My vengeance has already begun.”

At that moment, a General dropped to the floor and began convulsing. More and more Irkens followed him. Zim’s smirk grew with each new body that hit the floor. Finally, the Tallest started convulsing as well.

“You won't get away with this,” The Red one choked out before collapsing on the floor.

He flashed a wicked grin. “Oh, I think I just did.”

Zim’s pack legs deployed as he jumped off the table. He scuttled over to the cage and, after hitting a few buttons, freed Dib and Tak. “Follow me,” he yelled and led them out of the snacking hall.

[dandelionflower]

Felinette Month Day 15

Pride

“Ah, brave warrior! Will you be the one to rescue the fair maiden from the fearsome black knight and his fiery dragon?”

It was a renaissance fair, one of the most under appreciated events in Paris, in Felix’s opinion. The entire class was there, standing behind Felix and Marinette in a crowd.

He stared at the hilt of the sword offered to him with dull eyes.

He had absolutely no intention of playing the part of the hero for this likely rigged game.

If he accepted, he would try multiple times and fail, to the hilarity of the viewers. After he had been thoroughly humiliated, he would be allowed to leave with a coupon for a turkey leg or some other nonsense.

He looked out of the corner of his eye to Marinette, who was staring at him with pleading eyes.

He sighed. “Fine.”

“Huzza!” The actor raised his hands in the air as Felix accepted the sword. “Go forth, warrior, into the tent where they will fit you with the finest armor and weaponry.”

Felix rolled his eyes as Marinette eagerly dragged him into the tent.

—

Marinette sat eagerly on a table as the seamstresses took measurements. She had all sorts of questions for the workers.

“What sort of material do you use for capes? Is it naturally dyed?”

Then, finally, the question she had been leading up to all along.

“Are there any other entrances to the damsel’s tower?”

One of the seamstresses looked at her quizzically as the other answered her question.

A smirk grew slowly on Marinette’s face as she leaned forward and described a plan to the group; Felix’s interest was just as soon piqued.

——

Alya was kinda bored. They were all waiting for Felix come out and save the maiden. She had her phone out and was waiting for the action, but she, like everyone else, was getting restless.

If only Felix would come out.

“Seriously, how long does it take for a dude to put on armor?”

“I dunno,” Nino said, scrolling through his playlists, “it always seemed pretty complicated to me.”

“Lords and Ladies!” An announcer shouted into a bullhorn, drawing attention from all around. “Prepare to watch the mighty knight, Sir Culpa, rescue the fair damsel from the tower!”

A figure dressed in iron strutted out, a deep blue plume atop his helmet, the metal covering his entire face, save his eyes, but even those were mostly covered by a metal grate.

A mace was clutched in his armored fingers, and a sheathed sword was hanging from his belt.

“Our mighty knight seems to have chosen a mace with which to face the dark warrior, but will it protect him against the evil one’s broadsword?”

As the crowds cheered, the announcer was passed a note.

“Oh, what’s this? I have just been informed that this damsel isn’t just any fair maiden, but the knight Culpa’s own lady love!”

A violet-gloved hand came out from the window of the tower, tossing out a familiar handkerchief that fluttered and fell into the waiting hand of the armored Felix.

“That’s Marinette!” Alya shouted, awestruck.

This was gonna be good.

Felix walked forward, facing the dark knight as best he could, being about a foot shorter than the man.

The knight mumbled something, but Felix only tossed his hand like it was only a minor concern.

“It looks like Sir Culpa has rejected the malicious knight’s offer for a handicap! No hits will be held back in this match.”

The knight swung his broadsword in a wide arc, but Felix ducked and spun behind the towering male, slamming his mace behind his knees.

The broad man fell, and Felix ripped the plume from the top of his head, to ensure the win.

Suddenly, the ground seemed to shake and a giant robotic dragon lumbered in from behind the tower.

Felix was not at all slowed from his pursuit of the tower; he easily chucked the plume into the beast’s throat, effectively choking it.

As the creature gagged, Felix pulled his blade from its sheath, revealing it to be a miniature dagger.

He tossed the dagger at the exposed throat of the dragon, and it stuck, enciting a screech from the monstrosity. He then shouldered his mace and swung it like a bat as he leapt, pounding the blade into the creatures throat, killing it.

“I can’t believe it! Ladies, lords, you are witnessing history here! This the fastest time any knight has ever defeated the avenging fire worm!”

The beast toppled with a pitiful cry, and Felix stepped over it and entered the tower.

Alya waited with bated breath for Felix to cart out a blushing Marinette in a princess carry.

Instead, a lavender clothed Felix lounged in the arms of the returning hero.

Felix said something that was lost in the cheers of the crowd and lifted the helmet from his rescuers crown.

Familiar blue hair fell from the helmet, revealing the hero to be Marinette, smiling merrily as she carried Felix to safety.

No one could believe it.

———

Felix felt his face heating up and prayed his blush wasn’t too visible.

An incomprehensible mumble came from behind the bulky knight helmet.

“What?” He lifted the helmet and felt his heart stop as Marinette’s sparkling eyes meet his.

“I said, ‘How’s about a kiss for your savior?’”

“Well, if you insist, my knight.”

He wove one of his hands into her loose hair and pressed a chaste, lasting kiss to her grinning lips.

He felt all sorts of pride welling up inside of him as Marinette set him to his feet and was mobbed by all of their classmates.

Kim pulled back from the massive group hug and eyed Felix’s lavender attire.

“Felix, are you wearing a dress?”

He smirked and flipped back his hair, jutting out his hip without a single cautionary thought.

“That I am, and I happen wear it better than you could ever dream to.”

He may have been proud of Marinette for being his protecting knight, but seeing the admiration in Marinette’s expression as Kim spluttered out halfhearted insults told him that she was just as proud of him.

[amillionmillionvoices]

i couldn’t stop myself. river/doctor fic, based on steven moffat’s dream final episode. tooth rotting fluff, this is. pg. 

time is everything, time is nothing, time is ours

She’s been dying for weeks. 

Slowly, painfully, using the last of her regeneration energy to stave off death. For good, this time—her last body, last go around. She supposes it’s fitting, that her final hours would be spent trying, once again, to defeat them. It makes her a bit sour, if she thinks about it too long—there are so many things she’d rather be doing, people she’d rather be with—but she can’t leave. Not now. Not when this little planet needs her, and, she supposes, if she’s going to die for good she wants to die the way she’s always lived—saving the universe. 

Being an idiot, the voice in her head says, one that still, after so many lives, sounds suspiciously like her wife. 

The Doctor smirks to herself, and tries to avoid the screeching behind her, the door that won’t hold much longer. She tries to tune out their cries, familiar and robotic, with that hint of frenzy she’s never quite understood. 

She understands it now. Their desperation. 

The Dalek fleet is the last of its kind—the rest, destroyed in this grand battle, the one she’s been waging—leading—for years. The Doctor’s Last Stand, they’re calling it. It sounds far too dramatic for her tastes, but it’s not entirely off point. She’ll die here, she knows—on this Dalek ship, by Dalek weapons, alone. 

It’s for the best, really. 

The people fighting down below, they’re counting on her. Not to destroy the ship—no, that would be too easy, or perhaps, too hard, she isn’t sure which. No, the plan is much more ridiculous, much more her style. The Captain of the army had called it ludicrous. 

She likes that a bit. 

Behind her, sparks fly as the Daleks burn down the door, and she knows she has so little time left. 

Typing quickly, she does her best to ignore the searing pain in her side, the pounding in her head she’s felt for days. Everything hurts with the effort of not dying, and there’s no regeneration energy left to pull at her skin. But she has to try. Has to give just one more thing to the universe, and pray that it works. 

Yanking out wires and entering codes, the Doctor finally manages to find what she’s looking for—access to the hive mind. Clara had found it once, when she was an echo, and the idea has lingered so long, just out of reach. There’s no way to destroy them all—she’s tried that before, and always failed. She’s tried deleting herself, but they always remember. She’s tried time locks and explosions and everything else, and they always come back.

This time, she’s trying something new. This time, she’s going to change them. 

Groaning when she finds the slippery entrails, Dalek bits that writhe and slither, the Doctor keys in the last few commands, and takes a deep breath. 

Geronimo, she thinks, from somewhere in her memory, and smiles, and plunges her hand into the mainframe. It’s frankly disgusting, and she makes what she’s certain is a horrible face, but it’s only a moment before the Daleks realize she’s there, in their heads, and they scream. Scream, and fight, and the Doctor slams her eyes shut and tries to breathe. 

She’s always thought about giving the Daleks a piece of her mind, she just never meant literally. 

But she can feel it, feel their anger and their hatred, feel everything they abhor. It tries to sink into her, a two-way link, and she pushes back against it, fights it with everything she has, and remembers: 

Ian and Barbara, their strength and their love. Ace, and the Brigadier, and Martha, and Kate and their bravery, their fierce protectiveness, their love. She thinks about Clara and Danny, dying for love. Thinks about Bill, finding love after death. She thinks about Rose and her happy life with another version of her, in love. Thinks of Amy and Rory and their undying love and Jenny and her love and Yaz and her love and Ryan and his love and Graham and Grace and their love and Susan and Mickey and Sarah Jane and all of their heart, their kindness, their generosity, their love. She thinks of Donna and her love, her mercy, of Davros, and mercy, and the Master, and mercy, the Cybermen, and mercy, the Daleks, and mercy.  She fills her head and her hearts with every moment, every memory from her long, long life of love and mercy and kindness. 

She can feel the Daleks fighting back, feels them claw at her mind; part of her is aware the door behind her is caving in, but she needs more time. 

She thinks of Jack and Jackie and Adric and Romana and Wilfred and Nardole. She thinks of Astrid and Rita and Jabe and Nasreen and anyone and everyone she’s ever loved, who’s ever loved her, who’s ever loved anyone at all and pushes it all toward the Daleks.  

Blew them up with love, she thinks, though she isn’t trying to kill them, not this time. Just trying to save them. Maybe that was the answer all along. 

And maybe it wasn’t. 

She isn’t sure, but she knows it’s getting harder and harder to fight, to prove to them that it’s worth it—all the pain and loss and suffering that comes with kindness. 

So she does what she knows she needs to, though she’s reluctant—desperate, almost, to keep her to herself, to share not a moment of their lives together; but she can’t think about love and not think about her, so she lets it spill over, all those times: 

America, and Leadworth, and Stormcage. She thinks of Asgard and Trenzalore and Elvis. She thinks of Sontarans and she laughs and thinks of the Library and she cries. She thinks of Darillium, and smiles so wide her face hurts more than the pain in her chest, her lungs. She thinks of 24 years and so, so much longer, nipping off in the TARDIS for adventures. She thinks of River’s smile and River’s warm hands and River’s skin. She thinks of River getting ready for bed, wrestling with her hair, River getting up in the mornings, grumpy as all hell. She thinks of dancing with River under so many stars, and catching her every time she jumped or fell. She thinks of I hate you and you’re standing right behind me and loving the stars themselves. She thinks of not one line and more than any living thing in the universe and or you and when one’s in love and this is the reason above all I love him, my husband. My madman in a box. My Doctor. 

She thinks of next stop, everywhere, and behind her, the door comes down. 

She can hear them, the hiss, the almost questioned, exterminate? that doesn’t sound so sure, and yet when she looks over her shoulder there’s a gun aimed at her chest and frantically, she tries to remember more, remember louder and more clearly and more lovingly because they’re almost there, almost, so close—

The Dalek aims, and the Doctor shuts her eyes. 

The gun goes off, and she waits for pain and failure and death. 

Instead, the Dalek groans, and the Doctor opens one eye, confused. 

“Really? An end of the world battle and you didn’t call me? I’m insulted, sweetie.” 

Her voice is a surge of oxygen, sunlight and joy. The Doctor can’t help the smile the splits her cheeks—there’s recognition in River’s voice, fondness and devotion and worry, always, but determination, too. 

“And what sort of time do you call this?” The Doctor echos, and River steps around the Dalek, holstering her weapon. 

“The nick of it, I’d say.” 

“As always,” the Doctor agrees, wants to pull her in close, but pain spikes through her head, and she can feel the Dalek’s fighting back. She hisses, turns her attention back to the mainframe and grits her teeth. 

River appears at her side in less than a second, a steadying hand on her arm. 

“What have you done?”

“Ah,” the Doctor says, wincing in anticipation of River’s ire. “About that.”

It only takes her wife a moment to figure it out, to realize what she’s doing, and River gasps. “You idiot! You’ll burn yourself up!”

The Doctor shrugs. “Last regeneration,” she says, half her focus on keeping the Daleks—all that anger, all that hate—at bay. “I’m dying anyway.”

“No, you’re not,” River snaps, “Let me do it.”

The Doctor glares. “Not a chance.”

“Doctor—” Her voice is desperate, terrified, and the Doctor tries to smile, to be kind. 

“No, really, River. I’m dying. Have been for weeks. I’m on borrowed time.”

River’s eyes flicker over her body, looking for wounds. She won’t be able to see it—the shot she took to the stomach, courtesy of a lone Dalek—but River reads her face, the calm acceptance, and knows. 

Still, she shakes her head. “It’s not too late. We can get you to hospital—”

“And leave all these people?”

“Yes,” River says, but she doesn’t sound so sure, and the Doctor smiles. 

“Liar.”

River makes a kind of desperate sound, one that tears through her. “There has to be something—”

The Doctor shakes her head. “There’s no stopping it, River, not this time. I’m sorry.”

It’s the apology, she thinks, more than anything else, that makes River break, her expression falling, bright tears in her eyes. 

“No,” she says, tightening her grip on the Doctor’s arm. “I can’t let you die.”

“River,” she says, so soft, and with her free hand, pulls her closer, their hips pressed together. She reaches up, and brushes a stray tear from River’s cheek with her thumb. “Where are we, then?”

River swallows. “Last time I saw you was the Bone Meadows.”

Her Eleventh self, she thinks, and remembers: River, still in prison, still learning. Himself, still trying to prove something to her, both of them right at the start of such wonderful falling. 

“You’ve got so much more to come,” she promises. 

River bites her lip, and a surge of affection flows through the Doctor at the sight. “We could have more now,” she tries, but the Doctor shakes her head, leans forward, and kisses River’s cheek. 

“Soon enough,” she promises, and River nods, and finally looks down at the wiring, the open Dalek wound the Doctor is currently hooked up to. 

“What can I do?” she asks, so brave, so kind. 

The Doctor doesn’t think about it, not for a moment. “Give us a kiss?”

River half laughs, but doesn’t hesitate, leans forward and slides her hand into the Doctor’s hair and kisses her, soft and salty and she’s trembling slightly, and the Doctor pulls her in tighter, curls her free hand around the back of River’s neck and opens her mouth, kisses her harder. 

River whimpers, hands clinging to the Doctor and she’s warm and soft and safe and alive, so so alive under the Doctor’s hands and she loves her, has loved her for centuries, millennia, will love her forever. 

She thinks of the screwdriver tucked safely in her pocket, the code she’d written, not two days ago, and prays that it works. 

Under her hands, River moans softly and the Doctor grins against her lips, nips at her gently, refuses to let go. If it’s her last chance, her last moments, this is where she wants to be, who she wants to be with. 

She supposes maybe the universe isn’t so terrible, after all. 

There’s a spark, and a surge that knocks them backwards, the Doctor’s hand, burnt and bloodied, flying from the console. 

“No,” she says, “no, no, no—”

“Doctor, look.”

She pauses, and follows River’s gaze out the large window to the planet below. Everything has stopped. The explosions. Even the ship is silent. And then, the crackle over the speakers, a familiar voice with a strange humility. 

“Mercy,” it says. Below, the Daleks start to withdraw. “We bring mercy.”

The Doctor laughs. It may not work for good, may not last long, but the Daleks are retreating, or turning to each other, to the people, and she can hear bits of questions, “How can we help you?” and “We mean no harm.”

“What happened?” River asks. “Are they—?”

“Good, now,” The Doctor says. “At least for a while. At least as good as I am.”

River smiles. “The best, then.”

“Only with you,” she answers softly, and River shakes her head. 

“Sentimental idiot.”

The Doctor makes to answer, but pain overwhelms her and her knees buckle. She hears River cry out, feels hands lower her gently, but she isn’t on the cold floor, where she though she’d be. River cradles her head in her lap, brushing her fingers through her hair. 

“Please, sweetie—”

The Doctor grips her hand and forces her eyes open, wants to see her one last time. 

“River.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

Her hearts break, and she reaches a shaky hand to River’s face, holds her cheek in her palm. “I need—I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“The TARDIS. Bury me in it, and leave her… on Trenzalore.”

“Trenzalore? Why—”

“Long story,” she says. “Has to be lived. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“You’ll be the only one… who can open it.”

“How?”

“Spoilers.”

River glares, but the Doctor smiles, even through the pain. With her free hand, she grips River’s tightly. 

“I can’t—” River shudders. “I can’t do this without you.”

The Doctor shakes her head. “You‘ll never have to. It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You've got so much more to come. You and me, River. Time and space.” 

“Promise?” she whispers. 

“I promise.” The Doctor coughs, and it hurts so badly, but River is there, and she’s like sunlight through the dark. “Darillium.”

“What?”

“Make sure I take you,” she says breathlessly. “Don’t go without me.”

“I won’t.”

She feels one of her hearts give out, and draws in a ragged breath. “River.”

“I know,” she says, and there are tears on her cheeks as she cradles the Doctor close. “I know, sweetie.”

“Tired,” she manages, and forces her eyes open. “But happy.”

River exhales. “Only you would be happy to die.”

The Doctor shakes her head. “Happy you’re here. My wife.”

“Always.”

With all her strength, the Doctor curls her fingers in River’s hair and rugs her down gently. “You watch us run, love.”

The last thing she feels is River’s lips against her own, River’s hand in hers. 

—

Waiting for River is tedious at best. He’s got a new body now, such as it is, made up of lines and code. He needs glasses—well, not really, but he thinks they make him look rather distinguished—and he’s partial to suits. He takes care of Charlotte as best he can, but the mainframe is overwhelmed and even he can’t fix it from the inside. He knows it’s only a matter of time, however, and tries to be patient. 

He’s a bit better at it this go around, but the way time moves is agonizing, feels awful under his skin and he can’t quite grasp anything, any moment. The years tick by, or maybe it’s only hours, he isn’t sure, and then there’s a surge, and the computer feels like it’s rebooting or dying or maybe neither and then—

Everything calms. The itch under his skin goes away, replaced by an entirely new anticipation. 

He follows Charlotte outside to the courtyard, blue skies everywhere, green grass, and blessed stillness. 

She appears in white, which he can’t help but find a but humorous, a bit fitting. 

“The Doctor fixed the data core,” Charlotte says, and brings River her friends, which, while he’s happy for her, makes him just a tad jealous, for the way she recognizes them and hugs them close. 

He waits, answers their questions dutifully, gives them a tour of the mansion, explains how it works, now that they’re not quite alive, not quite dead. River keeps her eyes on him the whole time, something discerning, calculating in her gaze, but she’s a bit distracted, and he supposes that’s only fair. 

He waits until everyone disperses to find their rooms and settle in before he turns to her, forcing back a smile. “Professor Song, might I have a word?”

River nods, and follows him into the backyard—there are tables and chairs and beautiful bird baths and all kinds of quaint things he can’t wait to show her, doesn’t care about at all right now. 

“How are you feeling?”

“A bit overwhelmed,” she admits. “I never thought—though of course he would, that daft man.”

“Are you happy?”

He holds his breath as she blinks, looks startled by the question. 

“To be alive? Certainly.”

“To be here,” he amends, and tries not to shift his weight. 

River stares off into the distance for a long moment. “I could be, I suppose. It’s just—” She shakes her head, and gives him a wane smile. “I’ve never been fond of confined spaces. Staying in one place.” She shrugs. “I’ll get used to it.” 

The Doctor steels himself. “You seemed content enough on Darillium.” 

River’s neck snaps up and her gaze hardens, so suspicious, his wife. 

“How could you know about—”

He smiles. Soft and warm, and with every ounce of devotion he has in him. 

“Doctor?” Her voice cracks. “How can you be—”

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend eternity without me?” he chides softly. “I’m much too selfish for that.”

River makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and throws her arms around his neck. He nearly wilts, holding her so close, buries his face in her hair and breathes her in and she feels solid, feels warm and alive and real and part of him can’t believe it worked, it all worked, and they’re here and together and—

She slaps him, hard, and he grunts, and rubs at his cheek. “I suppose I deserved—” he starts, and then she’s kissing him, mindless of his new face, his new body made of code; mindless of anything or anyone around them. She kisses him fiercely, desperately, arms around his neck and he holds her so tight he’s afraid she might bruise. 

“My River,” he whispers against her lips when she finally parts to breathe. “My wife.”

“Doctor,” she murmurs. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be, dear?” he asks, and she shudders in his arms. “We’re alive.” 

[wondergal2001]

Little Lamb: Part Seven

When Charlie first woke up and calmed down from her initial deja vu, the silence was wonderful. It was serene and healing; everything she needed in her life right now. Her head had been filled with so much shit the last few years, it piled up and up until all that noise was pounding in her head. Slamming against her skull demanding to be released. But the silence in this room was just... so silent. For once the only thing in Charlie's head, was her, just her. The silence was her balm, her blissful saviour.

But now it was choking her.

The soothing, healing silence had escaped the room with the cold, no-nonsense woman in a pantsuit. Erica Sloane, if Charlie remembered correctly. But to be honest she wasn't really paying much attention. She completely blanked out the second she made eye contact with the giant man with the ugly moustache. The one from the warehouse. The one who saved her, but also seemed like he couldn't care less for her life.

Ms. Sloane had strut in here like she owned the place, which Charlie din't know yet but she did, said some blah blah explanation about what happened to her, like Charlie didn't already know how she got into this situation and what those disgusting people were gonna do with her. It was old news to her, she lost interest almost immediately, she almost didn't notice when Waller left the room. What really interested her was why the not so friendly giant, looked more uncomfortable being in this room than she did. As soon as that door closed she was on the case to find out why. And thus the staring contest began.

They had both been staring at each other for some time now, what felt like hours but really was only a handful of minutes. Both pairs of eyes roaming the others figure. Trying to surmise every fact, every small tiny detail about each other without opening their mouths. Charlie could feel this man's inquisitive gave travel over every square inch of her person, inspecting every bruise, every scar, every freckle on her blemished skin. She made sure to put her best poker face on; she wasn't going to show this random man just how unsettled she was being in this room with him with complete lack of noise.

He was just as tall and just as wide as she remembered him being. He looked pretty much the same as the last time she faced him, just maybe a little cleaner. His previous sand, dirt, and blood stained outfit had been replaced with a pair of black trousers and a tight, knit sweater. The dark navy blue of the garment contrasting well with his light eyes. He stood, leaning his shoulder against the wall, about a metre away from the door. His arms were crossed at his chest, making his already big arms even huger.

The silence was suffocating her again. Sucking all the air out of her body, she couldn't breathe. This was past quiet, way more than silence. It felt like all the air and all possible noise had evaporated from the room. All thought disappeared from her frazzled head, all she could do was not blink. She knew what this was. It was a test for dominance, to see who was the top dog, who was gonna be in charge of this conversation, in charge of this relationship. She could do it, she knew she could. Charlie flippin' Granger was her name and stubborn was her game. She could hold the blinks back and show this dangerous specimen who was boss.

Charlie was quite the stubborn person, stubborn as an ox most people would say. She was often stubborn to a fault.  In fact that was probably the second word used to describe her. The first word was always the same one.

Awkward.

"So who talks first? I talk first? You talk first?", she finally broke, managing to keep her voice steady. Still trying to keep all of her emotions close to her chest, but she just couldn't keep her lack of comfort inside any longer.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a very piercing stare sir. I mean like seriously, what are you doing? Looking into my soul, trying to see my future? Cause I can tell you now, there is nothing particularly interesting to see here. Nope, nada. Probably just a crazy cat lady with a thousand plants.", god she just kept rambling. The word vomit just kept coming and coming, she couldn't make it stop. She sent a quick prayer to mother Karma that she needed to be stopped, and stopped quickly.

It seemed karma took pity on her. A quiet, smooth chuff of air, left the very, very large chest; sounding suspiciously like amusement. She looked over at him, now sitting in a chair that looked much too small for a man of his stature. When he moved there she couldn't tell you, it must have been when she was stuck in her head. She saw his blank face turn into a delicious smirk. Lips pulling up to the side just enough to show his amusement. That accompanied by the mischief in his eyes from her babbling, making his beautiful face look like a total douchebag. Finally, after their intense stare down he spoke.

"That totally makes sense, you seem like that kind of person.", he said sounding just a tiny bit mocking. Still looking at her with that small smile on his face, as if she was the most hilarious person in the world. But not the type of hilarious where they tell jokes that make you pee your pants, the type of hilarious that's only funny to the people watching. The difference between laughing with and laughing at.

"And what kind of person is that Mr. Steroids?", she retorted with some not so hidden venom in her voice. Kind of insulted that he agreed with her lonely, depressing view of her future.

"You don't have great conversation skills do you?", he spoke through a laugh, his mouth breaking into a huge grin showing off his perfect teeth. Of course he has prefect stinking teeth, Charlie thought bitterly. He seemed to relax more, as he leaned back into the chair, sitting like an actual normal person instead of some perfect posture robot. If Charlie heard that sound a year ago, she would have blushed like crazy. She would be trying, and failing, to flirt back with this handsome stranger. She would have answered yes she does have excellent communication skills, and she always believed people had the best intentions at heart. But she knew better now.

"Well considering the last real conversation I had, I was begging not to be kidnapped I think I'm doing pretty well. Sorry to disappoint.", she said the last bit with all the sarcasm she could muster. Hoping to cover up the real sadness and fear that was bleeding out of her confession.

It seemed her retort had woken him up. He swiftly shifted his weight forwards, leaning his elbows on his spread knees, with his large hands clasped together hanging in between. The previous laughter on his face disappeared, being replaced by a serious face with remorseful eyes that glanced down away from her person towards his fiddling hands. After a few seconds of silence, as her admission sank into both of them, his eyes connected with hers again. The look on his face seeming to plead with her to believe what he would say next.

"You're doing wonderfully. Even though there is no right or wrong way to handle what you've been through, to handle trauma, I can tell you are doing the best you can. And that's great, that's the first step. Always.", he said so seriously she actually believed him. Everything about him right now screamed sincere. Nothing about his face, body language, or tone made her think he was lying to her. That he was giving the classic victim spiel. He looked like a golden retriever right now, he appeared to be so loyal, patient and trusting; someone she could count on to help her through this. As much as his words comforted her, the prolonged eye contact was starting to make her uncomfortable. She quickly cleared her throat, looking away from his piercing gaze.

"Where are we? Who are you? I'm pretty sure we are in some medical facility, and no offence dude but you don't look like my doctor." she questioned, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

So she was deflecting again, sue her. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his words, she did. Charlie wasn't ready to go down that hole yet. And she'd rather deal with her trauma in her home, or at the very least, when an extremely attractive man isn't there to see her burst open. He didn't seem all that surprised at her dismissal, if anything it seemed like he expected it. His face shifted again, this time becoming a the neutral, calm government official he was. He rose from his chair, standing up to his full height, his arms found their natural habitat crossing his chest. He seemed to ponder his response, Charlie watched a million thoughts run in and out of his head before he finally formulated his answer.

"You are in a US government medical facility in Virginia. You've been unconscious for several hours now which is to be expected with your injuries. I am the government agent who rescued you and who now has been assigned to help rehabilitate you and assist you in getting back into society. Long story short, that means where you go, I go. And before you ask, yes I am essentially your babysitter. My name's August.", he said sounding nothing like the man she had first met. He actually sounded...friendly. But it didn't matter how friendly he made himself seem, Charlie was not happy, nope not one bit. But she was too lazy and not mention too tired to argue with him. She knew, no matter what she said she wouldn't be able to change his mind, so she settled for showing her anger in another more healthy way. She pouted and glared.

"Tt, babysitter.", she scoffed, finding his blue eyes again staring straight at her. She returned his gaze with a fiery glare, putting all the anger and discontent she could muster right now behind it. She thought she came off as serious and intimidating, but really she just looked like kid when they are told no they can't have cake for dinner. A fact August didn't hesitate to let her know.

"It's cute, you trying to intimidate me. Adorable but useless, not to mention unnecessary. I don't like this anymore than you do.", August admitted with absolutely no shame and a sarcastic smile. He was secretly glad the light-hearted atmosphere was back, and that she took it so well. No yelling or fighting or major resisting. This he could deal with.

"First things first, now that you have woken up, we are going to move you to a safe house where you can finish your recovery.", he declared, sounding like the bossy man she knew he was just from the moustache alone. He started to move towards her, coming to stand right next to her on the left side of her bed. He reached for her arm to help her out of bed and onto the wheelchair close by. He stopped about a couple inches away from touching her skin. She looked at him questioningly, maybe there is a glitch in the matrix, she thought trying to understand what he was doing.

"Can I touch you?", he asked softly, as if he could shatter her by speaking any louder.

"What?", she asked. Her face scrunched up in confusion, her eye brows furrowed together, mouth slightly open in pause. After inhaling a deep breath he elaborated his previous question.

"Do I have your consent to touch you? To grab your arm to help you out of bed?", finally clarifying what he was after. Charlie's scrunched up face melted away into one of open shock. No one had ever asked her that before, not her previous partners, not random people she met out in public, and most definitely not the people she had encountered in the last year. Finally getting her wits together she answered back honestly.

"That depends.", she said equally as quiet as August, and equally as serious. His eyebrow quirked a little, in an inquisitive manner. The eyebrow was enough to ask her to elaborate without opening his mouth, a talent she was definitely going to ask him to teach her later.

"Were you really gonna do it?", she asked with no emotion in her voice, no emotion on her face either. She made sure to gaze at his face to see what he was feeling, she wanted to be certain.

"Do what?", he asked even more confused than he was before. He tried to imagine what she could have been talking about. They hadn't known each other for more than a day. This was their first conversation together, what could he have done to make her question him like this?

"Were you really going let him kill me?", she finally revealed. Looking him right in the eye to make sure he knew that she was watching and that she wasn't going to settle for anything less than the truth.

Finally after several seconds of silence, and even more intense eye contact he gave her a look. What it meant she didn't understand at the time, but would later learn to understand every word he wasn't saying. It was a simple yes or no question but he didn't answer. All he did was gently grasp her arm in his large, warm hand.

To everyone who is still interested in reading this: I am so sorry it took so long. Writing isn’t my strong suit and I just have to be in the mood for it. I will try my best to write more regularly and often. I will be trying to make a master list (it will be pinned on my blog) and a taglist so let me know if you want to be tagged. 

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

A Lost Jedi | [Fem!Reader] | Star Wars

Wooow, I wrote a second part :D

Notes: I do not live in the US, I’ve never been to Disneyland and I have no clue about writing

Fandom: Star Wars

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Minor Swearing, Unrealistic Depiction of California, Non-Canon Timeline from Star Wars

Summary: Y/N, a Jedi padawan is lost on an unknown planet with her droid R7-S9. Her ship is destroyed and she cannot reach her Master. With the help of a kind human civilian, she was able to find a location where a Jedi outpost could be and where she might just find other members of the order...

Word Count: 2711

Part I

——–

“R7? You there?”

Her comlink stayed silent and Y/N cursed under her breath.

“Listen, buddy, I’m sorry for before. I mean we’re on an unknown planet without my Master and... I’m kinda scared, you know. So could you like, maybe... respond?”

Her fist clenched the comlink tighter as she ran around a corner. She pressed her back to the wall and checked the way she came from. No one seemed to have followed her. A relieved sigh left her lips and her shoulders relaxed slightly.

Beep. Woo-weep.

“Hey, my friend! Yes! Yes, of course!”, exclaimed the young Jedi and she couldn’t hide her relief. 

“Where are you right now?”

The droid whistled through the comlink and she blinked. 

“You... What? You found an outpost?!”

Some people turned heads in her direction and she reprimanded herself for being so loud. She had already cast some stir, it was better not to cause more.

“Are there any Jedi?”

While she had a whispered conversation with R7-S9 she saw some people with similar white hats checking out the crowd before her. Y/N already had her suspicions and decided to move. Better safe than sorry.

Wohoop Be-Weep Woo-Beep. Be-Beep!!

R7′s thrilled beeps and whistles made her laugh and the fact that he apparently found a Jedi made her heart leap. She would ask the Jedi for help, then contact her Master and the order and then finally, she would leave. Anakin and the 501′s were probably already waiting for her. She would apologize to the council and then go back into battle.

Her heart was pounding in anticipation as she followed the instructions of her astromech droid who was leading her to his location. 

While Y/N was rushing to get to him, R7-S9 watched a brown-haired woman in grey clothes. According to his scanners, she was a Jedi. The lightsaber on her waist was enough evidence. R7 whistled. Y/N would probably cry from happiness once she got here. A sound similar to a snicker escaped the droid.

“Mom, look!” 

The astromech droid turned his head and scanned the two approaching humans with his triangular eye. A female adult and a male child.

“That’s the droid from the parking lot!”

Small hands began to paw the droid and he shook in revolt. An angry chirp showed his disapproval and R7 extended his gripper arm with a shock module attached. He waved it in front of the child and whizzed some rather inappropriate insults.

Boop Be-Weep Wo-Beep Ba-Waap!!

“Woah, Honey! Maybe you shouldn’t get too close to it. It doesn’t seem to like it.”

The mother grabbed her child and stepped back to a safe distance. R7-S9 whistled in satisfaction and turned his head around only to register that the Jedi was gone.

Beep Boop!

“My, what do we have here?”

The astromech droid was startled and turned his head to the side only to notice the female Jedi right in front of him. It took him a moment but then he introduced himself and waved his gripper arm as a greeting.

“Are you lost, my little friend?”

R7-S9 chirped politely. He wasn’t lost, he was waiting for his ma- a voice interrupted his whistles. 

“R7, there you are!”

Both he and the female Jedi turned to see Y/N arrive. The padawan was out of breath and the droid analyzed her pounding heartbeat. 

“Man, some weird civilians started to follow me. We need to get to the Je- Wait a second. You!”

The brown-haired woman next to the astromech droid pointed a finger at herself.

“Me?”

-

Y/N just stared. The person before her also had a lightsaber. In fact, there seemed to be many people walking around with some sort of replica of the Jedi weapon. But none of them embraced the force. And with this woman, she felt the same. The force wasn’t engulfing her. 

That shouldn’t actually worry the padawan since her Master was able to completely hide her Jedi nature as a Jedi shadow but she still had doubts. 

The Jedi remembered the masked man who looked like a Sith. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t felt the force when she stood before him. That person hadn’t made her feel like she would drop her lightsaber because of her trembling hands, he hadn’t shaken her balance with just his voice and the malice in it. Actually, that man had no trace of the fury, torment, and angst that surrounded a user of the dark side.

It was at this moment when Y/N realized. And it hit her like a brick.

She could not feel any Jedi or Sith on this planet because there were none.

-

“Adam, wait!”

The panting of his friend and assistant Marcus stopped the actor from following the woman. He turned around and looked at the stormtrooper mask that Marcus was wearing. 

“What are you doing? We’re still filming the video.”

Ah.

He remembered the camera and promptly took a look around. Jace waved at him and he just nodded since he couldn’t do more with Kylo Ren’s helmet on.

One of the people that escorted him and guaranteed his safety while in the park, took off his helmet and stepped closer to him.

“That wasn’t planned, Mr. Driver. We’re sorry for the ruckus. Security will take care of that lady, don’t worry.”

Adam straightened his hood. 

“I’d like to meet her again.”

He said these words without giving them too much thought and Marcus was obviously surprised. 

“Why?” 

“I...”

He couldn’t quite name what he felt when he saw the young woman but there was something weird going on. It was a gut feeling. 

“Let’s follow her. I think it will be entertaining.”

The actor couldn’t see his assistant’s face under the stormtrooper helmet but he was sure that Marcus just gave him a devastating look. He turned to Mr. West who planned the filming of the video. 

“It might be interesting. Could we change the route?”

While the producer talked with the team of Disneyland, Adam stared into the crowd. He remembered the moment when the woman had glared at him. Hatred and pain filled her eyes and he wondered where they found such a good actress. Then he remembered the words of the staff worker. That wasn't planned. Then who...?

-

It was a great day. She was finally here after weeks of begging and pleading. The grin that appeared on her lips in the morning was still there. She was smiling so hard, the corners of her mouth slightly hurt. Nothing could ruin this d-

"Leah, I told you to watch your brother!"

She sighed. Her eyes found Timothy standing not too far away with his back to the rest of the family.

"Tim, get back here, Mom's worried!", she called him but her brother didn't answer. He seemed spellbound by something.

But he wasn't the only one. Leah noticed how other park visitors started to crowd in front of them and they seemed to watch the same thing as her brother.

She approached Timothy and grabbed his shoulders.

"What are you looking at?"

"They're fighting, Le. Rey and that Girl!"

Her heart began to pound faster. Was this one of the special acts of Galaxy's Edge? She heard that some actors would randomly meet up and perform an Impro. Witnessing one would be an awesome memory. So she peered through the crowd and her eyes found the two subjects her brother was talking about. Her expression changed from excitement to shock.

"Tell me!"

She recognized the actress immediately who was playing Rey. She was sitting on the ground in a defensive position with her hand stretched out in front of her. The expression of the actress showed unease and Leah praised her for her good acting skills.

The other woman that Timothy mentioned was standing over Rey. Her appearance was foreign but clearly from Star Wars. Leah had never seen her before that's why she didn't recognize the character she was supposed to play. But from the lightsaber hilt on her hip, she was probably a Jedi.

"Where are the Jedi?!", shouted the female stranger and Rey cowered in fear.

"I-I don't know. Miss, you should calm down!"

Leah didn't even realize that she got out her phone and started recording.

"Why is everyone walking around with a lightsaber but no one is connected to the force?!"

Rey shook her head and made a sign with her hand. Neither the crowd nor the woman realized that It was a sign to call the security who protected the actress.

"The Fo-Force works in many ways. I don't know why you can't feel it, it's here. It surrounds us."

Leah's phone was on Rey and she almost squealed in excitement when she heard the words only a true Jedi would say. That's why she didn't expect the answer that was coming from the strange woman.

"True, it does surround me but your connection to the force is weak.”

Gasps erupted from the crowd and her brother shouted angrily: “Rey is the strongest Jedi!”

Leah gripped his shoulder and a shiver ran down her spine when the woman slightly turned her head to look at Timothy. It was just a glance but it was powerful and even though she was impressed by the skills of the actress, she couldn’t stop the thought that maybe, just maybe, the woman wasn’t an actress but something else.

“So you call yourself a Jedi, huh. Can you even use your lightsaber?”

The prop on Rey’s hip flew into her hand. Surprised chatter escaped the surrounding people and more phones surfaced and started recording the odd improv. The woman pressed the activation button but nothing happened. Obviously, it was just a prop. 

The expression on the stranger’s face distorted. A sudden beep alarmed Leah and she turned the camera to focus on a droid that looked similar to R2-D2. My god, Disneyland is so good with props! 

The robot beeped again and wheeled towards the two women and only then did the girl realize that it must be the companion of Rey’s counterpart. 

And then a lot of things happened at the same time. 

The crowd shuffled and split and five seemingly harmless park visitors appeared. But they had walkie talkies on their hip and wore all the same hat. 

“Ma’am, please step away from Rey. You are disturbing the park and would like for you to come with us. If you do not comply we will have to use force.”

At the same time, the woman crushed the lightsaber prop in her hand. With sheer astonishment could the crowd watch how Rey’s lightsaber hilt turned to dust. 

“What is this...? Where are the Jedi? M-Master...” 

Leah probably was the only one who heard the woman. She was shocked that they apparent actress was, in fact, none and the security guards had shown up. 

One of the guards took a step forward and wanted to grab the woman but he froze as soon as a yellow glow enlightened his face. 

“Do not take a step closer!”

It was only for a second but she saw it. The distinctive shape of a lightsaber like in the movies. It was pointed at the security guard but the next second it was gone and the woman with it. What... what just happened?

-

Tears streamed down her face as she ran away from the crowd using the force to hide. Her Master’s technique had probably saved her life this time. Like many times before. 

“Master...” 

A big lump formed in her throat and she tried to regain her focus, her peace, but the Jedi and their codex seemed so far away for the moment. How could she stay calm when she had no way to contact her Master and leave this planet?! Emotions seemed tempting and it took all her concentration to stop the tears and at least try to keep some of her Jedi dignity. 

She didn’t realize that she had left R7-S9 once again behind and that the astromech droid tried to follow her while scanning the environment for heat signatures furiously. And neither did she notice that she would collide with a stranger if she continued to walk tha-

A muffled oof and two strong arms that held her in place made her regain her focus. 

Y/N looked up and she recognized the mask of the Sith impersonator. She understood that the Force veil had somehow lifted and she was now visible again. 

“There you are.”

The words were void of any threat or danger and the padawan just stared. Her expression had turned to stone and the only things who showed how emotional she was ten seconds ago were the wet streams on her cheeks. 

His appearance had lost any dangerous air when she had realized that there were no Jedi or Sith in the park. 

“What do you want?”

Her voice was slightly nasal because of her crying but she ignored it. 

“You seem lost.”

A raspy laugh escaped her lips. How right the man was. 

“What if I am?”

-

Adam almost forgot that the young woman was still in his arms when he spotted the cameraman in the corner of his eye and he immediately let go of her and took a step back. Kylo Ren wouldn’t hold a woman like that. Maybe Rey but not a stranger. 

The tear stains gave her a somber aura and he focused on her cold expression. He wanted to ask if she was okay but they were still filming and his persona would never ask that. He thought about his response for a second and then said:

“Join me.”

Her eyebrows narrowed for a second and she took a step back. A rational choice.

“For what? I know you’re not a Sith.”

The spark of anger he saw when they met the first time was gone. Her indifference towards him now struck him and spiked his interest.

“I am not a Sith, that is correct. The Sith are gone.” 

She eyed him carefully. Her hand slipped to her hip.

“Then what are you?”

He wanted to stay in character and respond like Kylo Ren would but he saw Mr. West behind the woman with his thumbs up and he sighed.

With a smooth movement, he took off his helmet and revealed his face and identity.

“I’m Adam Driver.”

-----------

“Star Wars fans are going wild because of viral video filmed in Disneyland California. Many believe that Disneyland just teased a new movie and its main character. After The Rise of Skywalker, fans are thirsting for some new content. In this clip...”

Leah just watched the video in silence. It was the scene that she filmed earlier this day. It was from another angle so the person must have stood on the opposite side of the crowd. 

“The woman has been seen several times in the park. She knocked down Kylo Ren and his troops and fled the scene.”

That information was new and Leah was surprised when they showed another video clip from that moment. It seemed like the actors were really pushed by something invisible. 

“How do they do that?”, she asked loudly and pondered for a moment.

“Disney hasn’t made a statement yet but the first clip shows how security shows up so the possibility of the woman being an actress to announce a new movie is small.”

Leah stopped the video. If that weird woman wasn’t an actress how could she knock down the other actors? Did they prank each other?”

The wheels in her head were turning and she continued to watch some more videos about the strange event. 

Youtube and Twitter were exploding with news about the woman after all.

.

.

.

“Adam Driver? You want me to join you on driving an Adam?”

The man that had just revealed his black hair and brown eyes stared at her in bewilderment.

“What?”

He seemed so shocked he didn’t continue.

“He’s an actor, Miss”, said one of the men with the white helmets behind him who tried to hold back his laughter. The Adam Driver turned around and gave him a look. 

“An actor?”

Y/N didn’t quite understand.

“Adam Driver is his name.”

Oh.

[lyrazehedgieboiii]

Insecurities

Hey guys! SO, I decided to make a one-shot on how Amy’s feeling very stressed, and her feelings on top of that make it harder for her to be happy. How will Sonic feel once he finds out? Let’s GO!!!!

Amy was sitting at Tails’s house, listening to Tails identify his newest invention, and was smiling, as if she were listening, but the only thing she was listening to was her thoughts. 

  ‘Ugh, don’t you have better things to do, Pinky?” her thoughts kept focusing on when she’d get to go. She started going to far in thinking and ended up hurting her own feelings. ‘Yeesh, you’re so weak, no wonder no one likes you.’ Amy widened her eyes, realizing that everyone had their eyes on her.

  “Uhm, why is everybody staring at me?” Amy asked, not liking the sudden attention. 

  “We were asking if we could have dinner at your place?” Sticks said. 

   “OH. Uhh...o-of course! I’ll go home and start. What does everyone want?” 

    “CHILI DOGS.” Sonic yelled, kneeling down, begging Amy to make them.

    “Eh, I’m fine with whatever you make, Amy.” Sticks said. Amy smiled, not sure whether to take that as a compliment. Amy looked at Tails.

     “Cookies for dessert, Tails?” Amy asked, smirking.

     “You know me, Amy! You’re chocolate chip cookies are the best things that ever happened to me!” Amy felt tears coming, this was too much for her to take. She ran towards Tails and hugged him, and then hugged Sticks, and Sonic, lingering a bit during his turn. As she was about to turn to Knuckles, Rouge slammed the door open, and bent down to control her breathing. 

   “Eggman’s...*pant*...attacking...the *pant* village.” Sonic immediately got up, still a bit giddy from Amy’s unexpected sign of affection, and sped off. Rouge, flew by Amy as they all ran. “What’s up with Blue Boy today? He seemed a little excited, did you kiss him?” Rouge asked the petite pink girl.

   “OH NO, no, no, No, no, NO Rouge! I just gave him a hug.” Amy exclaimed while blushing. 

    “But you wish you could more, right?” Rouge said, nudging her elbow at Amy. Amy turned red, trying to hide the fact her heart was hammering. The team made it to the battle scene, finding Eggman in his Eggmobile waiting to introduce his newest robot. 

   “OH Ho, ho, ho, this robot is sure to get rid of that pesky blue rat!” Eggman laughed evilly, while the villagers just rolled their eyes and watched the fight.

   “You keep calling him a ‘pesky blue rat,’ just call him something else! Maybe...,” Lyra stared off into space for a few moments. “DEFORMED PINEAPPLE!” Amy was the only one that giggled. Sonic glared at her. Amy just smirked at him, and sent a blowing kiss. Sonic went giddy and red again.

   “Ok, let’s take this from the top. OHOHOHO, THIS ROBOT IS SURE TO GET RID OF YOU, YOU DEFORMED BLUE PINEAPPLE!” Eggman shifted to the side, to reveal a 20 foot tall robot, with lasers, missiles, and shooters on its arms, legs, and head. Everyone went straight for it, Sonic being in the lead. The missiles fired, but were quickly dodged. Then the lasers started firing, and that started to get tough. Along with the crabbots and beebots in the background, it was gonna put up a lot of effort. Knuckles and Tails got blasted away leaving Shadow, Rouge, Amy, Silver, Sonic, and Lyra left. Suddenly a missile was fired, and pushed Rouge aside before exploding. It didn’t cause too much damage to her, but she fell to the ground, caught by Knuckles. 

     “Come on Hedgie Squad, we can do this!” Lyra said, stabbing the beebots with her scythe.

     “Don’t call us that ever again.” Shadow muttered, running towards the back of the robot. That wasn’t a very smart idea, because there were lasers and missiles at the back too. Shadow got blasted, and that only enraged him. He ran faster, but got shot by a laser. He gave up, needing a break. Lyra gave up too, because she just felt lazy. She was cautious though, she didn’t feel like this would end well. Silver, Sonic, and Amy were left. Silver got annoyed with all the unnecessary scrap metal zooming around them and picked them up with his powers, and pushed them all together, and threw them to the side.

While he was doing that, he didn’t notice that Sonic was warning him to get out of the way, and Sonic pushed him, but they both got shot by the laser. 

   Eggman chuckles. “Looks like Sonic’s whiny little girlfriend is left. Well, that’ll be easy, since she’s so weak and pathetic anyways. I mean come on! The pink brat can easily be thrown off with a laser, or her hurt feelings.” Lyra and Rouge widened their eyes. That wasn’t a good idea...

Amy fell to her knees. She let out a loud sob. She recited every cruel thing that’s ever been told to her. ‘Weak and pathetic.’ ‘Pink brat.’ ‘Those people aren’t your friends, they just feel sorry for you.’ Everyone looked at Amy with surprise. They didn’t know that Amy was getting bullied. Amy stood up, feeling her heart burn with that same weird feeling she had earlier. She couldn’t identify what it was...

Until Sonic muttered. 

   “Rage.”

Amy’s eyes went dark, along with her quills, and her outfit changed, which surprised Sonic. He was the same when he was in his dark form, he never got a change of wardrobe. Amy however, did. Her dress turned into a dark red halter top, with a high-low skirt, with the back ending just a little below her knees. Her quills became longer, and a blackish aura tinted her vibe.

   “I’m sorry Dr. Eggman, what did you say?” Amy asked, floating towards the eggmobile.

    “Uh...I’m sorry?” Amy leaned back, and the aura only seemed to deepen.

    “YOU LIE! Pathetic old man!” Amy shot some of her negative energy at him, and he disappears into the sky. She summoned her hammer, and it evolved to about 10 feet, and she smashed the robot. It fell back, and then Amy pounded its head.

    “Amy?” Amy’s pupils came back, and she looked scared. She turned back to her normal form, and ran off crying. Lyra held Sonic from catching up to her.

    “Give her a few minutes, bro. Then go.”

-

Meanwhile, Amy was in her room sobbing, her thoughts keeping her up in a bubble. She didn’t know how it started, but wanted it to stop. She couldn’t help how she felt, but it only hurt her more. She heard a knock on the door, but ignored it. She heard the door open, and she dashed into her closet, and hid under the clothes. 

    “Ames, I know you’re in the closet, open up!” Sonic yelled from the other side.

    “And what if I were changing?” Amy asked, in quite a harsh tone. “I-I’m so sorry, Sonic. I-I don’t k-know what’s happening to me!” Amy let out a sob. 

    “Amy. Just open the door and talk to me. Please.” Amy thought that his tone was a bit strange. It almost sounded as if he were...begging her to open the door. She got up, and slowly opened the door. “Thank Chaos, I thought you’d never come out.” Sonic wrapped his arms around Amy, and sat on her bed with him. “Now, tell Doctor Sonic what’s wrong.” Amy put her head on his lap, and he stroked her quills.

    “Well, it started a few months ago. I was walking through the village, going to a local mall, and I heard some teens talking trash about m-me. You know how I am when that happens, right?” Sonic nodded. He knew what it was like under the wrath of Amy Rose. “I hit th-them with my hammer, and they literally started crying. Those weird feelings kept my brain occupied for some reason.”

    “Don’t worry, Amy. Just be ha-” Sonic was cut off by Amy’s growl.

    “Don’t tell me to be happy, Sonic the Hedgehog, don’t you think I already tried that?!” Amy sobbed. Sonic hated the fact that she was depressed. He would do anything to see her smile. He pulled her up, and hugged her. 

    “I want you to be happy, so what can I do?” Sonic pulled back just a little, to tuck a loose quill out of her face. 

    “Well, you can kiss me, take me out on a date, marry me, have about seven children, I don’t mind more. You can-” This time, Sonic was the one to cut off Amy. However, it wasn’t with a comment. It was with a kiss. Amy immediately kissed back. Sonic used tongue in this kiss, and that excited specific parts of Amy’s body.

    “Sorry Ames. Only one at a time, you’re only 16! Chaos.” Amy pouted. “Okay, two things.You are officially now my girlfriend.” Amy smiled, and squeezed the living daylights out of her new-found boyfriend. 

 Sonic wrapped Amy’s hair around in his finger. “I see your quills are still long from that, incident.” Amy giggled a little. 

    “I don’t think I want to cut it.” 

    “And I don’t mind that at all. But, next time, can’t you tell us what’s eating you.”

    “Why do I have to acknowledge that you’re eating me?” Amy joked. Yes, she intended the joke to sound a bit...dirty.

    “Oh my CHAOS, Amy! Way to get a man’s hormonal drive up to 130%!” Sonic said, putting his hand to his heart, acting all dramatic. 

    “Wow. How was it so easy to confess to me?” Amy asked, while smirking.

    “I never confessed! But here it is! I...I-I l-love...you...” Sonic barely said it all out. Kind of hard to explain feelings when you’re ego is the size of an Olympic Swimming Pool. His ego would probably die there, anyways.

    “IT’S ABOUT TIME, GOD, I THOUGHT AMY WOULD END UP WITH SOMEONE ELSE!” The couple turned around, to find the whole team standing at the door. Lyra was recording with a camcorder, a digital camera, and her phone. She even set up a tripod. Knuckles was the one who yelled, just wanted to let you know. Suddenly, Sonic felt warmth on his ear.

    “I love you too. Good job on recognizing your feelings for once.” Amy winked at him and left the room.

WOW WAS THIS LATE. Sorry for posting this a bit late. I started this on Wednesday, but somehow completed this Sunday night. It’s weird because I usually spend fifteen minutes writing a oneshot, but writing this was a bit difficult, because I’m not one to insult Amy Rose. I LOVE HER TOO MUCH SHE’S MY FAVORITE SONIC CHARACTER!!!!!!!!!! I’m very tired because my bed is so fricking hard. 

[miracleboiz]

Making a Home Ch. 19

Kita Shinsuke had experienced a lot in life. He had been raised with his grandmother, a loving foster parent and for some time he followed in her foot steps before finding his own path. He thought his foster care license had expired before getting a call at three am with two small boys thrust into his arms. Miya Osamu and Atsumu, from broken homes but still fighting. Thirty days before his license expires. Thirty days to make a choice, keep the boys or let them be separated into different homes. Thirty days to fall in love with them.

Words: 4k

Relationships: Ojiro Aran/Kita Shinsuke, Gen

Warnings: Mention of past child abuse, non-graphic abuse

Not from Kita, but it is mentioned. I will post any warnings before any panic attacks or vague descriptions of abuse.

Read below or on AO3

“I told you that today wasn’t a good day.” Shinsuke said, reaching out to grab Osamu but he and Atsumu were already too far ahead. Osamu looked back, hope in his gray eyes and he started to hesitate reaching back for Shinsuke’s hand.

“Yes, we know they got in trouble, they were always troublemakers. That’s okay, we know how to fix them.” Rika said, smiling almost serenely at the twins. Osamu went still, tears starting to build beneath his eyes before his brother’s grip on his arm jostled him into turning around again.

Internally, Shinsuke fumed. Neither of the boys were troublemakers! Even if they were, there was nothing to ‘fix’ about a child who acted out. They needed guidance, support, they weren’t broken.

“Hello again, Rika-san.” Atsumu’s voice was hollow, drained of any sort of cheerfulness.

“Atsumu, I told you to call me Rika-chan, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already.” Rika chirped and Atsumu’s shoulders sagged with tiredness as he dipped his head.

“Sorry, Rika-chan… Good evening Saito-san.” Atsumu’s voice was nearly intelligible and Shinsuke stepped forward, unable to stay quiet any longer.

“That’s enough. I told you not to come, and what are you talking about again? From my records there was no Saito Rika or Saito Ken who ever watched over the boys.”

“My last name used to be Nakamura,” Rika said flippantly and Shinsuke felt his temper rise, “I was the first one to try and adopt the boys.”

“Try?” Shinsuke barely held back the urge to snap the word back at her.

“Well my husband didn’t want kids then, so we got rid of them. But he’s come around and said we could adopt one, but why wouldn’t I just want my old twins. Besides, they’re older now and not as annoying as they were.”

“They’re not… They’re not dogs. You don’t just toss them aside and pick them up from the pound later.”

Shinsuke wasn’t one to get upset. He was often likened to a robot despite the fact that he knew he was very much human. He rarely cried until he was beyond overwhelmed, and he didn’t understand how other people could scream and yell so much. He even struggled to smile, though the boys had it made easier to relax and just let the natural action curve on his lips.

Right now, though, he was more than a little overwhelmed. Osamu seemed ready to break down and Atsumu had closed off again. He looked like he was seconds from dissociating and Shinsuke was not going to let that happen. He opened his mouth to tell them off when Atsumu started speaking.

“It’s alright Kita-san,” He murmured and Shinsuke pretended that didn’t hurt, “we’ll be good.”

His fist was nearly white, wrapped around his brother’s hand. Osamu whimpered, only to slap a hand over his mouth with a fearful glance at Rika’s husband who still didn’t look at the two.

“The boys are always good for me, right Osamu?” Rika seemed far more interested in the boys than her husband. He’d already dragged out his phone and wasn’t bothering to look at his wife or the kids.

“Yes Rika-chan…” Osamu said hesitatingly but Rika didn’t seem to notice it as she turned to Atsumu.

“So I know you two had a bad day at school today. You always were breaking things, rules, vases, toys. What trouble did you cause this time Atsumu?”

“That’s enough. Leave now.” Shinsuke stepped around Osamu, moving to stand in front of them. “I won’t have you insulting either of these two, or treating them like mindless animals. They’re kids. Get off of my property now.”

“We are entitled to our interview-” Rika started, looking more than a little shocked at Shinsuke’s interruption.

“You failed the moment you refused to listen when I told you not to come. They’re allowed to have a rest, especially after a hard day. Instead you came anyways, and proceeded to talk down to them like there is something wrong with them. There is absolutely nothing wrong with either of them. Atsumu, take your brother into the house please.” Shinsuke passed him the key, holding it out for a worryingly long moment before he finally felt Atsumu’s hand wrap around it.

He waited, feeling the tug of Osamu’s hand momentarily on his shirt before he was pulled past. The moment the door was shut, he relaxed slightly, no longer worried about them being upset about seeing him angry.

“Not only have you failed your interview, but I will be reporting you to their social worker. You are obligated to inform me if you have ever had any contact with either of the boys, before the interview. You dismissed them, insulted them to their face. Told them they were broken and ruined any confidence that Atsumu had with that last comment that he caused the trouble. He didn’t! Because he’s a good kid, who cares about making everyone happy and giving his all no matter what it takes from him and I will not stand by and let you degrade that into him just breaking things.”

“Wha- You can’t be serious! The boys are just kids, they don’t even know half of what I just said. I’m calling Oomimi-san now, you won’t even have the boys by the end of the night.” Rika snapped, looking both bewildered and angry. Her husband, interestingly enough, had finally glanced up from his phone and seemed to only understand that something important happened.

“So we don’t have to get the brats?” He seemed mildly relieved, only to scowl as his wife rounded on him.

Shinsuke turned, blinking in surprise at Osamu’s face in the crack in the door before it was gone. He paused, wondering if he should say anything else before tossing it aside. Whatever he said now was meaningless. He had the boys to take care of.

He stepped into the house, closing the door and locking it before turning on the security alarm. He turned, exhaustion flooding through him as the adrenaline started to lower but he knew his night wasn’t over yet.

Astumu was just standing behind the couch, keys still clutched in his hand like he was waiting for an order to put it away. Osamu was gripping the arm of the couch, fingers twitching and Shinsuke gently nodded when he realized Osamu was wanting to hold his fox for comfort but was afraid of being yelled at.

“It’s okay, Osamu, you’re not in trouble.” Shinsuke murmured, keeping his steps slow and measured as he moved to Atsumu’s side.

He wrapped his fingers around the keys and knelt to the floor, looking up at Atsumu. He barely even stirred, eyes staring at something over Shinsuke’s shoulder. His eyes were vacant, no emotion in them, not even fear. Tears had stained his cheeks and slid over each other but no sobs came from his mouth.

“Atsumu, I’m taking the keys now.” Shinsuke said softly, catching them as Atsumu obediently dropped them. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, I didn’t know you already knew her-”

“May I go to my room… please, Kita-san?” The words were barely more than a whisper, and Atsumu looked like he didn’t have the energy to try again. He was ready to collapse on the floor, and Shinsuke didn’t know if being alone would help or make it worse.

“Can you look at me first?” Shinsuke asked, waiting as the eyes slid to meet his. They moved slow, sluggish, like Atsumu had to force himself to do it but if Atsumu was responding that was good. He didn’t look too far gone, and forcing him to relive the moment by trying to talk it over would only make Atsumu that much worse.

“I’ll bring dinner in a bit, okay? Please come let me know if you need anything else. You look very tired and scared, Atsumu. I know that was hard, I’m sorry I couldn’t help more. I’ll check in on you, but if you need anything, please come and get me, I won’t leave the house okay?”

Inch by inch, Atsumu’s head tilted into a nod as his eyes slid away again.

“Yes sir.”

“Thank you Atsumu, you were really brave… I’ll check on you soon.” Atsumu didn’t move, waiting until Shinsuke gently nudged him before he started walking towards his room.

Osamu was clutching the fox to his chest when Shinsuke turned to look at him, his own tears leaking onto the floor. Shinsuke waved him closer and Osamu nearly ran to him, only to freeze an arm length away. 

Osamu had always been more physical, wanting hugs and getting comfort from them. He craved physical closeness in the same way Atsumu craved approval, but now he was scared. Scared of Shinsuke.

“It’s alright, Osamu.” Shinsuke tried to soothe the frustration on Osamu’s face as his natural urge to be close battled with the fear that had been built in him. “You’re scared, you don’t have to hug me… I am sorry, I didn’t know you knew her and I told her not to come, or else I would have told you that you would meet someone today. I am sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Can I go be with ‘Tsumu?” Osamu asked, voice stronger than his brothers but it was still choked as he sniffled. He gripped the toy closer and Shinsuke was grateful Akagi had thought to buy it as a comfort item.

“Yes, little one, go on. I’ll check on you in a few, and bring dinner.” Shinsuke slowly moved to his feet as Osamu walked away.

“I wish you didn’t hate us.” Osamu mumbled, probably not even aware he’d spoken aloud.

Still, a knife plunged through Shinsuke’s stomach and heart and it took everything he had not to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He wanted nothing more than to sob, break down as so many emotions flooded him at once. He wanted to run, to hide, to lose himself in work, to lose himself completely in something blank. He was neutral by default, small bits of emotions dropping into him at any given time. He had no idea how to handle the thick swell pouring through him.

Anger, guilt, panic, pain, grief, adrenaline, worry, care, hurt. Everything poured into him and it was overflowing in his mind.

He wasn’t like the others, where they could take so much. He thought he would break, right there on his floor, his boys in the other room. His boys hurting.

Somehow, he moved to his feet, pawing at his own pants to pull up his phone and hit the speed dial for Oomimi.

“Shinsuke? Aren’t you supposed to be in the middle of the interview?” Oomimi didn’t bother with pleasantries, Shinsuke rarely called to catch up, he preferred the quicker method of text.

“Yeah… The boys had a rough day and I told her not to come but…” Shinsuke took in a shuddering breath, trying to focus on the present like Aran, Oomimi and Akagi had coached him through for years when he started to crack. He started to talk again, explaining what had happened, while he started to cook.

He focused on the pans under his hands, the heat of the rice cooker, the strong scent of fresh basil. The spoon was cool under his touch, and the back of his ankle collided with the stool the boys used. His elbow brushed over the fridge and cool air greeted his face.

He was okay. He was present. His boys were safe, they were just scared. Everything was okay.

“So after the boys went to their room I called you.” Shinsuke finished, stirring the stir-fry in the pan.

“Ah… I’ll drop by in about half an hour… I need to talk to them about the interview and I’ll make sure to note that she is to be removed from any potential adoptions until she’s reviewed again. I’ll write down what you told me and what the boys tell me and submit it tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Thank you, Ren.” Shinsuke murmured and Oomimi seemed to sigh on the other end of the line.

“Are you okay, Shinsuke?” Oomimi’s voice was soft, gentle. “That’s a lot to deal with on top of everything else.”

“Everything else? I’m fine Ren, honestly.” Shinsuke said, taking a deep breath and letting the overflow of emotions leak out. He probably needed a good cry, but honestly he didn’t have the time for that and he wouldn’t be the one to break in front of the boys. They needed to trust him to be strong and not crumble.

“Shinsuke, you went from being a successful business owner with a steadily climbing online business, to being a father to two traumitized boys, having your old crush return, trying to take care of them and help them heal, battling with that principal, trying to reintegrate Aran into your life, dealing with Saito-san, hearing Osamu say he thinks you hate them. That’s a lot, you’ve broken from much less. Remember our final year when you stepped down as captain? You were overwhelmed within days from losing your structure. When you first got the shop and found out that all the employees left with your aunt to her new one? You cracked and barely held it together until you got your routine going. You don’t do well when someone removes that without warning. This isn’t just someone removing your routine and your plan and your structure, this is blowing it up and stomping on the tiny pieces.” Oomimi sighed, louder and more clearly this time. He and Akagi had seen the worst of his cracking after all, though Aran had seen the first and knew of the other two.

It wasn’t often that Shinsuke cracked, in fact it was a rarity. He’d struggle, scramble for purchase and haul himself up after a week normally. Each of those times though, had been so overwhelming emotionally, physically, mentally.

Shinsuke had his routine, he had his Plan. He put the pieces together before the year even started, what he was going to do, what he was giving up or getting, what he would accomplish and what would be a bonus if it did happen. He set his routine, getting up at five am, showering for twelve minutes, turning on the rice and making tea by eighteen after. He checked his phone at twenty after before pulling out breakfast ingredients. Breakfast was done by six, he had eaten by twenty after and he was at work where it started all over again with a routine.

Little changes were okay, he could survive the itch that burrowed in his skin. He could ignore the urge to stare at the clock, feel time clicking away from him. He could only do that for so long. Without a new plan, a new routine set up, he would start to stumble.

It had only happened three times in total, but Shinsuke still felt guilty for each one. He prided himself on his self control, on his ability to support others, but when he broke he found them scrambling to care for him. Pressuring themselves to help him. The exact opposite of what he wanted.

“I know… Trust me I know, Ren… Why do you think I’ve been telling you and Michinari no? For the boys and about Aran��� If I throw out my plan then I’ll just throw myself into a panic. I already made the decision not to start a family, not to focus on dating…”

“But you want too, now.” Oomimi finished for him. For a long minute it was silent, then Shinsuke could hear the sound of papers shuffling.

“I’ll be there in twenty, let the boys know okay?” Oomimi said, and the line dropped. Shinsuke didn’t move for a moment, letting himself relax before he lowered the phone to the counter and started to dish up three bowls.

He didn’t bother to pull out the cushions to eat at the table. Instead he grabbed two of the bowls and made his way to the boy’s bedroom.

He knocked gently at the door before stepping in. Almost instantly Osamu was leaping from Atsumu’s bed like he was waiting to be punished. Atsumu himself was curled up with his giant purple pokemon, hypnotically stroking it’s fur.

“It’s alright, Osamu, you can stay with your brother. I brought you dinner.” Shinsuke explained, moving to kneel next to the side table and carefully slide the bowls onto it. Osamu still hesitated, slow, careful steps bringing him back to his brother's bed.

Shinsuke moved nearly as slowly, until he could lower himself to the bottom half of Atsumu’s bed. He reached out, gently tapping Atsumu’s foot with a whisper of his name.

Atsumu turned, a little less dazed, but tears were still fresh on his cheeks. He blinked at Shinsuke, tugging his feet under his body. Shinsuke didn’t bother to be hurt by it, Atsumu couldn’t help it and he definitely wasn’t doing it to be cruel.

“I brought dinner, Atsumu.” Shinsuke said softly, watching the eyes slide off his face towards the wall behind him. “I also wanted to let you know Oomimi was coming in a few… No, you’re not in trouble.”

Shinsuke could see the fear rising up, in Osamu’s face, in the way Atsumu was clenching Kitty.

“I swear to you, you’re not in trouble. You’re not being taken away either. He just needs to check on you and make sure you’re okay after today, that’s all.” Shinsuke soothed, reaching out to Osamu and waiting for Osamu’s hesitant hand on his. He drew him closer, slipping off the bed to let Osamu have the spot and guiding him down.

“Nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen. It’s all going to be okay.” Shinsuke said, gently squeezing Osamu’s hand. For a second, a light of hope seemed to glow in his eyes and the smallest smile appeared, before he was pulling his hand away and turning to his brother, crawling over to lay with him.

Shinsuke wanted to say something, reach out to them. He had nothing to say, though. Instead he turned and walked away. Any more words would only seem empty and fruitless.

Shinsuke barely managed to eat, and clean the bowls by the time Oomimi arrived. He didn’t bother with pleasantries now either. This wasn’t a friendly call, he was on duty and he wouldn’t pretend otherwise.

He had more than one paper carefully stacked under one arm, none of them labeled and Shinsuke wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they were for.

“Shinsuke?” Oomimi’s voice made him jump from where he was bent over his kitchen island, a pencil scratching out a new design.

“Yes?” He looked over immediately, panic churning in his gut at the regretful look on his friend’s face. Oomimi moved slowly, making his way to the other part of the island before he spoke.

“The boys confirmed what you said… obviously. Saito Rika will be removed from the list of potential adoptees and will be reviewed much more thoroughly before she is added back.” Oomimi said, then lowered the forms onto the table blank side up so Shinsuke couldn’t read them. Always professional.

“Shinsuke… The boys said…” Oomimi hesitated, tongue flicking out to wet his lips before he pushed on. “Shinsuke, the boys asked not to be adopted by you.”

A thousand pounds dropped through Shinsuke’s stomach. The pencil shattered in his grip but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about the pain shooting through his palm. They didn’t want him.

A disgusting mixture of horror, grief, and relief mixed through him. He hated it, despised it. The idea that he could finally return to his routine was relieving, the idea that he would no longer be in charge of their emotional welfare was relieving. Shinsuke wanted to throw up.

He didn’t want the boys gone, he’d never want that but even he couldn’t deny a mental toll had been taken. He didn’t care, he could get over that, he could adapt. It wasn’t life threatening, it was just a momentary adjustment period, that he was already going through. Adopting them wouldn’t make him worse and he was horrified that some part, even so small and ignored a part just trying to keep him moving forward, was willing to drop the boys like that.

None of that mattered though.

They didn’t want him.

“Shinsuke. I asked them if they were willing to stay the rest of the month with you… Osamu managed to convince his brother to say yes. Regardless, the decision remains with me.” Oomimi said, tone clipped. He didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news but this was his job. He had to make the call to remove the boys or not, even if Osamu had managed to get Atsumu to say he wanted to stay.

“I have to report it… but I’m not taking them, Shinsuke.” Oomimi reached out to squeeze his wrist, the first break in his professional demeanor. “They are scared because of Saito-san, it isn’t a reflection on you especially as you didn’t know she would be here. They’ve been a lot better under your care. I’ll ask again at the end of the month, but if they say no… you understand that I can’t force them to be adopted by you, right? By any of us. They get to say no.”

“I know.” Shinsuke wished his voice didn’t sound so raw. He wasn’t crying, not yet, but he could feel it building. He pushed it down, pushed it away, desperate not to break where the boys could walk out and see. He wouldn’t do that to them, no matter what.

“Do you want me to stay-”

“No, thank you Ren. I have to sign off on what happened right? I’ll do that now.” Shinsuke cut him off, he didn’t want comfort. He wanted to know what was happening next, wanted to know what to do. Ren wouldn’t, couldn’t, guide him or give him a hint to anything. 

Oomimi watched him, before grabbing the paperwork and offering a few pages. Neither of them mentioned the pencil embedded in Shinsuke’s hand.

“Please, call me if you need anything. I don’t want you to cry alone, I’m still your friend.” Oomimi said when he grabbed the papers back. He looked like he was debating on crying himself but Shinsuke couldn’t put him in that position.

Oomimi had to do everything without bias, reports, write-ups, removals, adoptions. He couldn’t promise Shinsuke that the boys would stay with him forever, he couldn’t say that Osamu had fought his brother tooth and nail trying to beg to stay just till the end of the month. He couldn’t say that Atsumu had broken down sobbing silently, arms clutching the stuffed pokemon Shinsuke had gotten for him, while he said he’d leave. He couldn’t say Atsumu hadn’t asked to leave Shinsuke, he’d asked Oomimi to help him make Shinsuke happy by taking them away.

Oomimi couldn’t provide any comfort. Shinsuke knew that, knew he’d never know what happened in that room. He couldn’t make Oomimi try and comfort him after that.

“You’re like my brother, Oomimi. Please drive safe.” Shinsuke said softly, not even trying for a smile as the door slid shut behind the tall social worker. He stumbled, holding onto the table to try and hold back the waves of agony.

He wanted nothing more than to move to the boys’ room and hold them and ask them to stay with him. He couldn’t do that. He’d scare them, upset them, worry them. Atsumu would immediately push for his original decision to leave and Osamu would be too scared to do anything but follow his brother.

They made the decision. Shinsuke wouldn’t force his presence on them, he would just do everything he could to make the next two weeks the happiest he could and ensure they were going to a safe home after.

He stopped by their room unable to fully stop himself, glancing over the two curled up on Atsumu’s bed. They were fast asleep, wrapped around each other like two kittens. 

He stepped in, grabbing the blanket and carefully tossing it over them. They barely even twitched and Shinsuke doubted they would wake up at all until morning after the emotional toil of the day.

Shinsuke scooped up the bowls, both of them mildly nibbled on, and returned to the kitchen.

He tried to ignore the ache in his chest as he started boxing up the food for tomorrow. If anything, he would eat it and make them something fresh.

He couldn’t stand the silence. It was deafening, only the pounding of his ears audible after a week of nothing but laughter and the sounds of video games. He needed to hear someone, anyone.

No.

Not anyone.

He didn’t think twice as he grabbed his phone and punched in the number with muscle memory alone. Part of him rebelled against it, insisting he didn’t need help, but the rest of him was begging for his best friend. He wandered into the living room, unable to focus on any one thing, desperate for noise.

“Y’llo?” Aran’s voice was like a wave of relief after nothing but pain since they’d left the Matsukawa’s.

“Hey.” Shinsuke didn’t know what to say. What even could he say? That he was about to cry and needed a hug? That he was about to adopt the boys and then he fucked up everything and they didn’t want him? That just hearing that single word, made him feel like he’d be able to survive because they’d always made it through everything together?

Shinsuke had his pride for being the carer. He didn’t think he could let it drop quite so fast.

“Shin? Are you okay?” How many years had it been since Aran last called him that? Four? Five? It brought back memories of highschool, laughter and sweat, leaning on each other in the summer heat and tossing snowballs wildly in winter. Memories of the six years after that, when Aran was still in Japan. Tea shops and festivals, dancing and baseball, pick up games as the sun died, and alcohol as the sun rose.

All that. Shinsuke never even thought to give Aran a chance in his life. He’d taken his best friend for granted, didn’t reach out to him during the three years he was gone out of the country. Didn’t think they could ever fall apart, didn’t think he’d ever lose that constant murmur of his name and gentle hands ready to catch or hold him. He never thought of a partner, never planned for one, because he never thought he’d lose the one he’d had without realizing.

“I… I needed to hear your voice… It’s too quiet right now.” Shinsuke felt pathetic, but he couldn’t even bring himself to acknowledge that, listening to the deep rumble of Aran’s voice.

“Shin? Is everything okay? Talk to me.”

Shinsuke didn’t even realize until he was already spilling everything. Tears poured down his face, silent but the choked tone and Shinsuke’s own heavy breathing. Aran seemed to know regardless, as he tried to soothe him.

“Shinsuke, they’re scared. They didn’t know this was happening, they probably think you were trying to get rid of them. You can’t change the past, but you can still change the future.” Aran’s voice was as smooth and deep as Shinsuke remembered. He couldn’t help but feel ridiculous, thinking that. He’d heard Aran’s voice not even six hours ago. But it felt like eons. 

Like he’d been drowning at sea and someone finally came to save him.

“Yeah… I know.”

“Shinsuke, we can figure this out, okay? Move things around a bit, make it easier on ya. I can take the boys out after school a few times over the next few weeks, or early in the morning on the weekend, you can relax and they can play with Lady. We can talk with the boys on friday or next friday, ask them what they really want. If they want to leave then that’s their decision… but if they want to stay, then we can plan accordingly. We can get you used to a new routine, I’m here, Akagi’s here, Ooomimi. We’re all here to help… Let us help.”

“I missed you.” Shinsuke confessed, the words bubbling out before he even realized. Desperate for him to know, for someone to understand what he felt instead of these wild miscommunications he’d managed to hurt his boys with. “When we weren’t talking… I missed you constantly, I didn’t just… forget about you. I thought about you… a lot…  I just… My business is my main focus, has been since I graduated.”

“I know.” Aran’s voice was soft, like he was soothing Shinsuke from a nightmare rather than his own regretted decisions. “Shin, I know. I was there when you made the plan, with the others. If I had a problem with it, I would have said something then. I was already leaving the country… why would I have insisted otherwise.”

Shinsuke didn’t know why he was having this conversation. Didn’t know why he needed to. He wasn’t going to date Aran, he couldn’t. He was already cracking trying to figure out if he got to keep the boys, how to help them, how to keep his business steady, how to continue the way it was expanding rapidly. He couldn’t be responsible for the emotional wellbeing of Aran too. Responsibilities came with relationships and right now Shinsuke couldn’t do it.

“Shin. I’m here, now.” Aran said, his voice getting more firm at the quickening of Shinsuke’s breath. “Let’s focus on that. I’m still your best friend and you’re still mine. That’s all that matters.”

“... Sorry.”

“What’re ya apologizing for? Even the great saint Kita Shinsuke needs help every once in a while… Let me come over, we can watch stupid dramas and you can cry into a pillow and we’ll pretend it’s from laughter until you feel up to talking it over.”

“I think most people offer shoulders, not pillows… and the boys are sleeping, I don’t want to surprise them with you suddenly.”

“Shinsuke.” The force behind it made Shinsuke shudder. “I love the boys. But right now you need something too. What do you need? What can I give you?”

“I…” The words choked in his throat, but he felt like he could breathe again. “I think getting some attention from Lady could help me a lot.”

“One standard white poodle coming up… with boba tea of course. Maybe even a shoulder if ya don’t like the pillows.”

Shinsuke coughed out a laugh, letting the couch take his weight as he fell into the seat.

“Of course.”