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singthebodyelectric-tmnt · 4 years ago

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Intermission

Donatellos in Untitled Goose Game:

It was a lovely day in New York City...therefore statistically, something horrible will happen. There is a bush in Central Park, and in that bush, a honk sounded. Out popped a Goose with a purple bandana tied around its neck. He looked left, then right, then gave out two honks. Two goslings popped their heads out and they each gave out an affirmative honk. The Goose emerged from the bush with its goslings tumbling and waddling after him. It was a lovely day in New York City...and the Donatellos are horrible Geese.

“Oh fuck, it’s the horrible Goose and its spawn,” groaned a vendor of the gardens. “It’s just a goose, how bad can it be?” “When you see it in action, you’d take back those words” Riri and Cass were having a staredown across each other. Their respective counterparts looked at each other, then at the girls, then at Sunita eating nachos on a bench in between the two booths.

Sunita shrugged, “When it comes to cookies and brownies it’s serious business with those two”.

Riri grit her teeth and forced a smile, “At least I’m selling cookies for a cause. TO SAVE TREES CASS!” Cass smirked and thumped her chest, “HAH! When I take over the world with these brownies, WE WOULD BE ABLE TO SAVE MORE TREES BY FORCE”. Lillie and April squinted at the Caseys. Casey shrugged as CJ carried over more boxes of brownies, “At least she’s enthusiastic”. April was about to comment back when she felt a tug on her pant leg. She looked down to see a little gosling with a little violet cape happily waddling up and down and honking at her now he has her attention. “Aww!” Both Lillie and April cooed. April set down the box of cookies and picked up the gosling. “Hey, there little guy! Oh my gosh. His little cape! So cute!”. The gosling preened at the attention. “He’s a very enthusiastic baby for something with a broken wing,” observed Lillie. The gosling honked and wibbled its tail feathers. Lillie smiled, “Aw cute baby! Riri get over here! Look at this cutie pie”. Riri came over to see what the fuss was about. Cass grinned, “Not that they’re distracted, we’re gonna crush these sales!”. She then turned to her brothers to see them huddled over something that was hiding under their booth. “Guys?” CJ was the first to surface with something cupped in his hands, “Look Cass, the little guy was stuck on our tablecloth” A sad, quiet honk came from the little gosling with red eyes and a lavender ribbon loosely tied around its neck in CJ’s hands. It trembled fearfully. Cass dropped the box she was holding and rushed over to CJ, “Oh no! Poor thing! Where’s its mama?” So busy were the Caseys and Aprils with the two goslings, no one noticed the Goose took a box of cookies from the Aprils’ table, casually waddled over to the Caseys’ booth, and swapped a box of cookies with a box of brownies. He then waddled back to the cookie table and placed the box of brownies on it. No one even noticed the switch.

No one but Sunita, eating her nachos in amusement. The Goose waddled over to her side, settled there, and then gave a loud honk. The two goslings honked back and scrambled back to the Goose. The red-eyed gosling buried itself under its parent’s feathers, the caped gosling took its time, honking and twirling in glee to the joy of everyone witnessing it. There was a screech and then, “THE HECK IS THIS APRIL!? Why did you sneak your wares into mine? That’s playing DIRTY !” Riri pounded her fist on her table, “Pot calling the kettle dirty, Jonesy? What about this box of your brownies mixed in with mine!?” “I DIDN’T DO IT!” “NEITHER DID I!” “HAVE AT IT O’NEIL!” “PUT YOUR MONEY WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS JONES!” April and Lillie looked at each other, then at the Caseys. Oh no.

Sunita watched the ensuing carnage then eyed the Goose. “Good job raising hell guys,” she divided her nachos and gave the non cheesed bits to the Goose and its goslings. The goslings happily snack on their hard-earned loot. The Goose gave a hjonk of thanks toward Sunita’s way and waited for its children to finish before it ate.

They need the energy to cause more mayhem and the day is long. --- It was noon. Foot Brute and Foot Lieutenant surveyed the city from their vantage point. “Well Brute, what is our agenda for today?” The Brute smiled and said, “The same thing we do every day, sir. Try to take over the world”. The Lieutenant smiled, pleased that his partner and daughter were still in the business, despite their initial struggles. Leading the Foot Clan is exhausting without backup. There was a tiny honk in the vicinity of their feet. They both looked down to see a gosling with red eyes staring at them. “Aww”, Foot Brute cooed. He picked it up gently and asked, “Where’s your parent, little one?” A scream curdled the air and they looked down to the streets to see their daughter screaming her lungs out being chased by her friend...and chasing after them some kind of robot. Foot Lieutenant sighed and massaged his temples. “Oh, Casey… what now?”

Foot Brute put down the gosling in a safe place, “I’m sure your parents will find you little one. Stay put”. He then followed his husband and easily hauled a large contraption upon his shoulders. They did not notice another gosling hopping off the contraption proudly holding a screw in its beak. Out of the shadows, the Goose emerged. The goslings regrouped on their parent’s back and the Goose fluttered down to a staircase. There were more denizens of New York to bother. ---

Baron Draxum stared down the pest of New York City, the great Goose of Central Park, as screams erupted all around them. The Goose narrowed its eyes at the sheep yokai and raised its wings in a threatening manner. They were at a standstill. “NOT THE FACE, NOT THE FACE!!!,” pleaded Warren as a gosling with a cape cackled in glee over the worm mutant. “Darling, hold still, please! I’m trying to not harm you and the little one,” Hypno said nervously as he tried to grab the little dramatic gosling.

“Well, if you don’t do anything fast, I’M GOING TO GET EATEN!”

Draxum looked to the side to see Todd gently picking up the red-eyed gosling that had outsmarted Repo Mantis and Meat Sweats from a pile who were now screaming at each other. Draxum glared at the Goose who seemed to radiate smugness back at him. “If I give you what you need, will you and your children leave this human-mutant soiree alone?” The Goose seemed to think about it. It lowered its wings. It agreed. Draxum sighed. Can this day get any weirder ? ---

“Oh my, my! What a delightful treat to watch!,” Big Mama clapped her hands excitedly as three of the Mud Dogs tried capturing the Goose, who was nonchalant about the damage it was doing.

It popped up behind Heinous Green and honked. The oni stiffened then slowly raised his fist to grab it. The Goose then jumped as Heinous’s fist connected to his face. Mickey and Leonard both made a grab for it and slammed their faces together for their efforts. The Goose plopped around Big Mama’s office in search of something. Danny raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at Big Mama. “Are you sure you don’t want me to let this creature out of your office, Ma’am?” Big Mama put a finger to her chin. “Absolutely. Not until I find out what it’s looking for”. Danny shook his head and then looked down to see two goslings hiding behind a potted plant watching their parent cause chaos. Ah . That explained it. He kneeled and reached inside his suit to take out a couple of crackers to give to the goslings. The caped one gleefully grabbed a cracker and began munching. The red-eyed one with the ribbon fluffed up its feathers and began to cry. At once, the Goose hurried toward him, put its children behind it, and hissed at him. Danny put his hands up, “Easy. I know why you’re here. I got kids too, a tiger cub and a kit. You can leave after we give you food, right?”. The Goose had bared its terrifying numerous sawed teeth, then it stopped. It huffed when it noticed that its other gosling was also eating. Danny offered the Goose the wrapped package of crackers. The Goose narrowed its eyes at him. Then it honked and took the crackers from Danny. The Goslings climbed up their parent’s back and the Goose plopped out the office with its beak in the air. Danny sighed. Those crackers were for his little Alopex and Tigerclaw, damn it. Big Mama patted his shoulder with a small bag of unicorns and gold. “Well spotted. I too have children, four teenage boys to be exact, and I do know how they get hungry easily. Buy your children a good meal instead of light snacks, yes?” ----

“It is a wonderful evening in this rooftop garden, Master Splinter,” Splinter said arranging a potted plant on the ground. “It is, Master Splinter,” Lou agreed, sitting crossed-legged on the ground with a tea set in front of him. Next to him was the Goose with a purple bandana around its neck, sitting peacefully, eyes closed. Splinter sat in front of them and poured himself a cup of tea. A few meters away, the two goslings were trying to scale a miniature tower. In the background, screams of despair rose as mild annoyances cropped up across New York. Splinter raised a brow, “You were busy today, Goose-san”. The Goose did not bother to answer. The caped gosling hauled its brother onto a platform and used itself as support so that the red eyed gosling can reach the bell at the top of the miniature tower. “Incredible display of acrobatics from your children, Goose-san. We prefer this to your usual method of pecking the base of the tower until it topples over and you can reach the bell. It is very expensive and time-consuming to keep rebuilding the tower”. The Goose opened its eyes and stood up, welcoming its children for their victory, the red-eyed one holding the bell in its beak and the caped one hopping up and down and around them. The Goose waddled away from the garden with its children and Lou waved, “See you next week, Goose-san!” More screaming and wailing can be heard in the background. ---- The Goose of New York carried the bell to their little neck of the park. It carefully hung the bell on their security, which was a long line of yarn and bells hanging on it. The Goose gently put its sleeping children under their favorite bush. It stared at the lights of New York City. The silence of their little spot was quite calming and the Goose decided it was done for the day. It was a beautiful night in New York City and the days that follow will be beautiful as well. The Goose thrummed pleased at the day's events. But not for long. Peace was never an option.

#tmnt fanfiction #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k12 #rottmnt #tmnt fanart #dastardly danny #tmnt soul au #mama donny and his kids #chapters #tmnt casey jones #april o'neil #baron draxum #big mama #foot brute #foot lieutenant #intermission ain't canon

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silverarmedassassin · 5 years ago

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A Christmas Miracle

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (if you squint) Word Count: 1406 Warnings: Soft!Bucky, mention of sick children, but nothing graphic or anything. Summary: When the Avengers take a day off to help you decorate the children’s hospital you work for, a certain Super Solider feels a little left out.

2019 Christmas Masterlist

“Mr. Stark, I’m glad to see you’re putting your suit to good use,” you laugh as you walk into the hospital lobby. Hovering twenty-five feet in the air is none other than Tony Stark. He turns from the tree in which he was hanging an over-sized red, ceramic bauble and smirks. “I’m not sure why I even bothered having them bring out the ladders!”

Despite their busy schedules of saving the world one alien-invasion at a time, the Avengers had managed to pencil in a tree decorating event for the children’s hospital you work for. You’d reached out to Tony on a whim, knowing how busy he is between being the face of Stark Industries and avenging. So, when Pepper called you two days later confirming the details of the event, you were nothing less than shocked.

“Please, Y/N, how many times do I need to ask you to just call me Tony?” He makes a hasty but careful descent, gliding over to where you’re standing before touching down completely. “Nice of you to finally show your face around here.”

Over his shoulder, you see Pepper setting down a box of ornaments before making her way over. “Oh leave her alone, Tony. She’s a busy woman.” Pepper gives you a quick squeeze before tucking herself into her long-term boyfriend’s side.

You’d known Tony for almost a decade. You’d met him by chance at a career fair in high school, and he ended up offering you your first internship during your freshman year of college. You’d somehow wormed your way into both Tony and Pepper’s hearts, and they unofficially officially adopted you as part of their tech-empire family.

“Tony, aren’t you gonna introduce us to the pretty lady?” you hear someone from the group, Sam Wilson you believe, call from amongst the boxes of Christmas chaos.

Tony rolls his eyes before pulling you into his other side. “Yea, yea, shove it, Pelican Brain.” You attempt to stifle a chuckle as Sam grumbles to himself. “Team, meet Y/N. Y/N, meet the team.

A chorus of “hello” and “nice to meet you” erupts from the little gang of superheroes. You’re pleased with the fact that almost every familiar face could show, along with some you knew but couldn’t quite place. The tallest, and arguably the most enthusiastic of the bunch, Captain America, is the first to break away towards you.

“Steve Rogers,” he says as he grasps your hand in a firm handshake. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am. I think what you guys do here, for the sick kids and all...it’s really great. If treatment like this was as accessible and advanced back in the twenties - hell I might not be standing here right now!”

“We get it, big guy, you’re old. Stop hogging her,” Tony shoos Steve away. “As Pep said, she’s a very busy woman who doesn’t have time to listen to your origin story.”

“Well actually,” you chuckle. “I’ve managed to clear my schedule for the rest of the afternoon, so I’ll be able to help out when some of our patients come down!”

“Patients? Like, the kids?” another voice pipes up from the tree.

You all turn to find none other than Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier himself, peeking around from behind the tree. There was glitter stuck in his long hair, and he had a small strand of garland draped over his shoulders. You can’t help but wonder how this man was ever one of the most feared assassins in the world.

“Uh, yes the kids,” Tony snarks, rolling his eyes. “We’re at a children’s hospital, Tinsel Man, what did you expect?”

Bucky plucks the garland from his body and tosses it into a pile of boxes. “I just...kids don’t really like me. I didn’t know they were going to be here helping us.”

You quickly jump in, in an attempt to ease his worry. “The children are excited to meet all of you. I can promise there are a few boys and girls who can relate to you on some level and will love getting to spend time with you!”

Bucky found you weren’t necessarily wrong. The children were excited to see the one and only Avengers in the flesh. There were kids dressed up in Captain America pjs, Iron Man stickers on various casts, and one little girl even had a Black Widow temporary tattoo she couldn’t wait to show off to Natasha.

And, while none of the kids necessarily avoided Bucky, they weren’t going out of their way to show off their “battle scars” as you’d come to call them. He understood why with his appearance not being the exact definition of warm and fuzzy. But he had scaled it back on the black today, and he’d made sure to pull all the crazy hair out of his face because he knew how intimidating meeting new people could be when you couldn’t get a good look at their face.

As the afternoon of decorating started coming to a close, just a few patients - ones that were either outpatient and had just shown up, or had been in treatment during the earlier part of the day - were hanging around. It had grown pretty quiet with only a few interruptions of laughter coming from a small group of kids huddled around Steve and Sam. Bucky watched on happy to see his two best friends were enjoying an afternoon off, seemingly releasing the weight of the world’s problems from their shoulders.

Since he wasn’t otherwise occupied, he decided he was going to start packing up some of the unused decorations. He’d never admit to it, but the organization helped him clear his mind sometimes.

“Mr. Barnes,” Bucky hears from behind him. He stands from where he was digging in a box of faux candy canes and turns around to find you standing with a little girl. She looks terrified, but not in the way that Bucky was used to. More shy than fear, and it made him feel good.

“Please, just call me Bucky,” he chuckles.

“Okay, Bucky,” you smile and he’s sure it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “I wanted to introduce you to one of your biggest fans. This is one of our outpatient kids. She doesn’t stay here often, but we have regular appointments with her!”

Bucky bends down so that he’s eye-level with Cali. He had to admit a sweet-looking girl like her favoring him of all the Avengers was a surprise.

“Hi, Cali,” he smiled, extending his hand for a gentle shake. She looks up to you for assurance before stepping around your legs to inspect Bucky fully. “How are you?”

“She’s a bit shy, but I promise she’s excited,” you laugh. “Go on, he’s not going to bite!”

Giggles erupt from a group of children who are huddled around Steve, and it seems to break Cali’s reservations about Bucky. Instead of accepting his hand, she goes in for a full-on hug, almost knocking down the surprised super-soldier.

“I have a fake arm too,” she whispers into his neck, and his surprised laugh falters a bit.

“Wh-what?” He leans back just enough to see her face, and she nods. Holding up her left arm, she pulls the sleeve back to expose a prosthetic. Hers is less noticeable, complete with flesh-colored material so that it doesn’t stand out to the prying eye.

“She’s kind of why the hospital has such a great relationship with Mr. Stark. He was kind enough to donate funds to build her an arm similar to yours,” you gesture to the arm Bucky is now closely examining. “There’s nerve sensors and everything, so she still has sensation - can feel warmth and cold, all of that.”

“Amazing,” Bucky whispers, looking from Cali’s arm to her face. “Do you know how special this is?”

Cali grins and they’re obviously having a moment, so you decide to leave them to it. As you make your way over to one of the many lobby couches, exhausted from an afternoon of excitement, Tony makes a surprise landing.

“I guess he’s not bad all the time,” he chuckles, looking over your shoulder to the tender scene unraveling in front of him. “Might be the little Christmas miracle Inspector Gadget needed this year.”

You bite your lip in an attempt to hide the wide grin that threatened to split across your face. "I'm glad we could help."

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marrella-splendens · 5 years ago

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some story bits

so I realized some of y’all really liked the writing snippets I had been sharing lately, so maybe against my better judgement I’m going to just share the most recent few chunks I have written, so that you have some delicious context for my gay alien adventure bullshit

---

it looked almost like somebody had taken a soup can the size of a small aircraft and kicked its guts out, smearing shattered slivers of cold metal across space, twinkling in the sunlight. she thought mostly that it looked very old. a cylinder? really? that was some old-school tech. and here it was, most definitely dead. she approached carefully, keeping a safe distance, trying to gauge the extent of the damage. whoever kicked the guts out of this particular soup can did a pretty good job; maybe only 40% of the exterior remained intact, or at the very least still connected together in what seemed like its original configuration. what remained was a neat array of solar panels and various antennae, but that was surface stuff. she wanted to get at that gooey center.

she thrusted her craft a bit closer, careful not to disturb the debris field too much. she prodded her fingers in the air, starting up a spectral scan to see what she was dealing with. it was a good first step, before you had to get too close and touch anything. by now she figured she had enough muscle memory to do it in her sleep. she hoped she’d never have to do that. it was against safety regulations.

there was a considerable amount of data to analyze. as the onboard computers hummed away, she herself had trouble parsing the mess in front of her. certain components were stripped off, dangling in space, tangled together and torn at odd angles, her ship’s lights casting odd shadows further down. this didn’t look like an ordinary impact, but just to be sure, she requested a schematic from hq. a few seconds later a holographic and decidedly intact version of the sat appeared on her display. she prodded at it to get the exploded diagram, and looked back and forth at the real deal in front of her. things were definitely not as they should be; that much was obvious.

the comms link crackled open. “hey scout, everything okay? just noticed you nabbed the specs for that old wreck.”

“yeah yeah, okay but weird,” she replied, cringing a little. she didn’t like having to use comms. “looks a little busted up but I wanna get a closer look, if that’s alright?”

a slight pause, then, “fair enough, just be sure to get a prognosis soon; we got a tight schedule to keep.”

“copy that,” she said. she wouldn’t need very long to get a proper report to send back to the scrappers. it certainly looked like it was gonna be scrapped, one way or another. her console let out a little chime, and she frowned. something in there had an unfamiliar spectrum. not entirely unheard of, but it was enough to make her start to sweat. something felt off, but this was too interesting to pass up. she wasn’t gonna send along an incomplete report.

slowly, almost daintily, she nudged her craft in the direction of the anomalous signal, using several grabber arms to push aside loose material in her way. several chunks of metal clunked against the hull, one even bouncing off the clear bubble surrounding her, making her jump. the signal, however, got clearer. it was getting darker; the only illumination now coming from her ship.

but even in that meager light, she could see it. something very dark, metallic, almost… slimy? was it a meteor? no, far too smooth to be a meteor. it was deep in there, hidden between various defunct components. she was certain that this was what had crashed into the sat, and why she was here. the spectral scans were still a bit confused. the pit in her stomach deepened but she had a job to do, and she dug her way in closer.

there didn’t seem to be a clear line of impact; no single path it could have taken to find itself in its current position. like it had wormed its way in there. like it was there on purpose. she got the distinct feeling that she was seeing something new, and that was terrifying. more terrifying was that she’d have to call this in. over comms. god dammit.

“hey uh,” she began, not a good start. “I’ve got something really weird here; could use a second opinion?” she started the necessary procedure to send her data back, but a smattering of red lights on her console stopped her in her tracks.

“no communication line available or open,” said a pleasant computerized voice, from somewhere beside her. “opening line of sight recommended.”

but she did have line of sight, behind her. she wasn’t that deep in; there would be comsats that could pick her up right here, surely. she had just used them, after all. but no, nothing. she’d have to back out; try again. she gently nudged on the thrusters to take her clear of this mess. she was just about done here anyway.

a puff of cold gas erupted from an rcs node, but stopped itself short with an alarming thunk, just as half her console lights turned red or completely off. her skiff started backwards, bumped into something outside her vision, and stopped. her heads-up display wasn’t functioning, but a couple remaining lights and that familiar electric humming told her that her main circuit wasn’t busted, and life support was still functional. unfortunately, nothing else appeared to be.

she tried desperately to remain calm, and remember her training. that didn’t really happen though, so she panicked, flicking toggle switches back and forth, hoping that maybe something would respond. she didn’t dare attempt a full reset of her power supply; there was no assurance that it would come back on if she turned it off. so she was stuck. it was just her in this bubble, until her air ran out. speaking of which, she eyed her helmet, strapped in next to her. she pulled it free, fidgeted with it a little. it wouldn’t necessarily save her from an explosive decompression event, but if her air ran out, her flight suit could keep her going a little longer. and it gave her an out. if she dared go out.

her eyes remained fixed on the object, in the center of her vision. she had been crying, she just noticed, and her tears detached and floated a little ways in front of her. she swatted at them, rubbed them into her flight harness before they caused any further unexpected fucking problems. she didn’t break eye contact with the object. at this point she was sure it was to blame here. “if this is aliens,” she said quietly to herself, “I’m gonna lose my entire shit.” no better theories came to mind.

her eyes were locked. before, it had seemed, she was focusing due to panic, and a lack of anything else to do. but she realized that even if she tried, she could not pull them away. she continued to cry, her eyes beginning to sting. almost without thinking, she pulled her flight helmet over her head, breaking eye contact for a painful fraction of a second. more tears welled up, as she fumbled with the latch, trying to find a seal, as more tears broke away and floated around her head annoyingly. she couldn’t do much about them at this point; barely noticed them.

she began to realize that she could feel them. eyes, not hers. directly ahead. keeping her steady and focused. burning into her. a pressure, like they were forced up against hers, but she couldn’t see them. nothing but that unchanging shiny black surface. but they were there, she knew. she could feel them. she couldn’t stop crying. she was so very very stuck.

her vision grew hazy. she never thought it would end quite like this, but isn’t that why she came up here? to die? or was it to live? she forgot. could barely think about anything but the pressure and pain, now pressing around her entire skull, squeezing the thought from her. did anybody back at hq know she was stuck? it would take them hours to make it here, if they knew to come. they would just think she was late, probably.

she saw them. oh god, she saw them. two eyes, like hers. against hers. black pupils, like awkward angular slits in deep red irises. nothing else. then something snapped and she was gone.

---

the pressure was gone, the pain gone. but she couldn’t see a goddamned thing. she was still in her flight suit, which was a small comfort. she tried to move, to turn on her headlamp, but she couldn’t. oh well, perhaps that was wishful thinking. but yes, she definitely seemed to be restrained, somehow. she couldn’t feel any straps or bonds holding her, but she could wiggle her fingers, her toes. she could move herself a little bit, so she wasn’t paralyzed. she could even move her head around, but that did nothing, because she couldn’t see. she felt bizarrely calm, and rested. but disoriented, like waking up from an overly long nap. she took a few deep breaths.

she couldn’t hear much of anything. it was strangely silent here. there was a slight crinkling from her suit when she moved, but the sound was dulled, mostly coming from its interior. she felt something beneath her, some sort of surface. she tried to tap on it, but didn’t feel anything solid, only a sort of increasing resistance. a force field? oh god, it was aliens, wasn’t it. humans, at least no humans she knew of, possessed that level of technology, though she suspected they might be at the edge of it. nothing like this though.

she cleared her throat to speak, in a sudden burst of unexpected courage. “pardon me? hello?” she felt dumb, saying it. felt like somebody in a movie. she didn’t have any better ideas though.

for several minutes, nothing happened. she kept her breathing as steady as she could. she didn’t know how much air her suit had left, so she was going to assume it was something worth conserving. she wasn’t gone yet, at any rate. she would stick around as long as she could. suddenly, she could feel something else. she wasn’t entirely sure how she could feel it, besides she could. not unlike earlier, but not painful either.

regardless, she was certain she was no longer alone. she still couldn’t see anything though. she spoke again, almost surprising herself. “hello? I’m sorry, but I can’t see you. somebody is there, right?” she almost pleaded for mercy, but stopped herself. she didn’t want to make any assumptions.

there was a strange noise in front of her, the first time she heard anything besides herself this whole time, actually. it sounded, remarkably, like speech. not human speech. that probably should have alarmed her, but it didn’t. in fact, somewhere inside her, she could almost understand it. not the words, not exactly, but the meaning. something about light. a response, then.

slowly, very slowly, the pitch darkness around her began to abate, giving way to a still very dark greyness. but now she could see her. her? she wasn’t quite sure how she knew that, of all things. but there she was, outlined in the murkiness. a surprisingly humanoid figure; four arms, two legs. a halo of messy hair around her head, unbidden by gravity. what looked like extremely sharp teeth, glinting gently in the dark. and those eyes. those beautiful red eyes, no longer pressing into hers, painfully, but looking, just looking. maybe even concerned, but this was an alien, so how the hell was she supposed to tell. but she felt it, maybe. a hesitation.

the alien spoke again, clearer, louder this time. the words unfamiliar but fitting into her mind as speech, not random noise. “ûnnoth, ûtköghëd?” she asked, her voice raspy. I’m sorry, are you hurt?

at this point, she didn’t bother questioning her ability to understand. she was very far out of her depth. “no, I’m not hurt,” she began. reconsidered. maybe she didn’t really care how they could communicate like this, but she wanted to find out, anyway. she realized she might be in the middle of a first contact scenario - very likely was - and wanted to get more information if she could. if it mattered. “actually, though, I am curious how we can talk to each other like this. I’ve never, well.” she blushed, out of fear or embarrassment or something else, she wasn’t sure. “I’ve never spoken to somebody who was not a human before. so...” she trailed off. glad to know she was at the top of her conversational game right now.

well you see, she began, her words unfamiliar but ringing true in her mind regardless, we have some special tech for that. just so, she said, tapping the side of her head. implants. yes? also, and she turned to the side, slight trepidation radiating from her, I have studied what I can of your languages. to some extent.

“oh,” she asked, suddenly curious. “really? I wonder what that would sound like.” and after a second of consideration: “sorry, not to be mean or anything. I just want to know. I’m sure it’s fine!”

she turned back to face her, red eyes impenetrable. “ǔ sfîk ingliss, ës? aî khan sfîk litl ingliss, vot nat sô gud.” she pointed to her teeth. “thîdh get in vê. nat gud at lif saunds. hǔvans al lokhî, khan ǔs lifs thû sfîk vith.” she stopped, and caught her breath. her teeth did, in fact, get in the way. she wasn’t sure if that made her unlucky, though. just different.

admittedly, that was extremely cute, but she held back laughter in case it would be misinterpreted. “your english is just fine, don’t worry. but you can switch back if you’re more comfortable.”

yes, yes, I think that might be best. she made a head movement that might have been a nod, or something along those lines.

“so,” she began, worried about breaching a potentially uncomfortable subject, “I do not know where I am, and I cannot move. I don’t suppose you could… elaborate on that.”

oh! she said, with a sound that seemed like genuine surprise. yes, I am sorry, just basic precautions you understand. this is quite a situation. quite a situation! I’m afraid I cannot disclose many details to you, I’m sure you would understand. but you are safe, I have made sure of this. she looked at her intently. I’m sorry for detaining you like this. when your craft approached, I panicked. you see… she trailed off, reconsidered. I had to make sure you were not a threat. I can see now that you are, at the very least, not an obvious one. but I cannot be fully sure. I apologize in advance, but I may need to keep you here for some time.

she took a second to process this. “that makes sense, but as you might have noticed, I was in contact with my company just prior to…” no, she was not going to say “abduction.” even if that’s what it was. “prior to this lovely visit, and it would take them a while to realize I might be in danger, and hours more for them to send a crew here to rescue me, but they will come here eventually. I agree that this is, as you put it, quite a situation, and I worry it would become quite more of a situation if this-” she tried to gesture around but only wiggled, “was discovered.”

the alien backed away slightly, two of her arms grabbing on to unseen handholds behind her, and her head turning to look at something apparently only she could see, with her long hair lazily following. oh kind human, you have no reason to worry. I am not sure how much you gathered about my vessel when you first approached it, or if you even knew exactly what you were looking at, but you may have noticed that it is much larger in here than it is out there, so to speak. similarly, time is very much compressed. we are in no rush. in fact, you had been sleeping for some time; after I… gathered you from your craft, I, well. she turned back towards her, an unfamiliar expression on her face. I am sorry but I may have dosed you. just a little! I promise, it was not much, you just seemed terribly upset and I was concerned that could be a problem. you probably feel a bit calmer now, I imagine, yes? and the rest helped, I hope. it didn’t show on her face but the sensation was very apologetic. she was still getting used to that.

and drugs did make sense. she was indeed fairly calm, and in fact wanted to stay that way. she was still worried, though. but this was going a lot better than she originally thought it might. and she had time, apparently. this was good. even better was the fact that her eyes were starting to fully adjust to the light.

her surroundings were still fairly obscured; she imagined there wouldn’t be a lot to see even in full light within these soft dark curves, like velvet, with very few indications of functionality besides the occasional place to grab on to. her companion was, unsurprisingly, the most interesting thing (or person, in this case) in the room. she had noticed how large she was before, not in any sort of imposing way, but certainly more bulky than she was herself. now she could see the outlines of muscles on her arms, which formed unfamiliar configurations beneath her skin, which appeared to be made up of tiny dark blue scales. from the gaps between the scales grew fine black hairs, which were thickest around her head and back, and if she looked closely she could see patches that had been delicately braided with the help of dark purple crystalline beads.

the fact that she had four arms had been pretty obvious at first, but her hands each had six fingers, with a second opposing thumb on the other side. practical, she thought. the rest of her body was either out of view or hidden behind her clothing, which seemed to consist of a loose wrapping of dark fabric which waved gently at her slightest movements. her face was undeniably alien, with large red eyes with triangular pupils, and several rows of sharp protruding teeth underneath a large, flattish nose. somewhere in her tangle of hair were nubs of skin that might have been ears, but it was hard to tell.

maybe it was the drugs, but she had to admit, this alien babe was incredibly attractive. nah, that wasn’t the drugs. that was good taste. regardless, she felt a little overdressed. that is to say, claustrophobic. “hey so uh, can I take my helmet off? partly because I can’t move much at all and also I don’t know if it would be safe. would it be safe?”

oh, right! she replied, with a chittering noise that seemed to pass for laughter. I’m sorry, it had honestly slipped my mind. yes, it would be safe. we breathe basically the same stuff, and I scanned you for the usual bugs and immune problems either of us might have. at least breathing the same air should be safe, yes. I just didn’t want to remove your clothing without your permission; I was going to ask but I got all caught up playing interrogator. more laughter. sorry, that’s a bad joke. you can take your helmet off if you want.

suddenly she could feel the restraining fields around her arms weaken, and she moved to take her helmet off, fumbling with the latch. her ears popped a little as she pulled it off, but besides that, she was not in any immediate distress. she took in a tentative breath of air. hrm. it tasted smoky, and metallic. and somewhat minty. weird. “thank you,” she said, quite earnestly.

it is no trouble, kind human. in fact, there’s hardly any reason to keep you stuck there anymore, is there. I am sorry about that as well. she waved her hand vaguely in her direction, and the rest of the fields fell away.

ah, she could move again. she reached below her, felt the actual surface there, which was about as soft and spongy as she had imagined it to be. “I have to admit, you have a much nicer spaceship than me. by a long shot.” she reached up and pulled her hair tie out. “I’ve no use for this at the moment, to hell with it.” to hell with safety regulations, to be specific. but these were exceptional circumstances, she was sure.

more cute alien giggles. it would seem we are both bending the rules. she ran three hands through her considerable mane of hair. but it seems, we’re both quite in the thick of it now. she climbed her way across a nearby wall, settling in beside her at a comfortable distance. more personable now. less imposing. this is indeed an interesting situation. you see, by taking you here, by even having this conversation, I am almost definitely breaching at least one galactic treaty, and as you could probably imagine this puts me in quite the predicament. sort of a difficult situation. tell me, she said, fidgeting slightly, what is your name, kind human? I feel impolite at this point not knowing. I understand entirely if that is not something you are willing to divulge.

“it’s maria,” she said, wondering why she hadn’t thought to introduce herself earlier. she had been somewhat caught up in the whole alien thing. she was still somewhat caught up in it. “what about you, kind host?”

she slowly blinked. flower, she said. though, maria suspected, that was only the meaning of it, because of her implant. the word she had spoken was “adsun”. it was a pretty name.

“well, adsun,” the alien name rolling ungracefully off her tongue, “it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. if you were a human I would probably shake your hand, but I’m not quite sure what is appropriate here.”

adsun wiggled, obviously quite delighted. oh, oh I am familiar with this! we do not do it ourselves, no, but I admit I do have some human cultural knowledge, and, well, I have to say I have been wanting to try it, and now is just the perfect opportunity. it would be an honor, maria. she stuck out a hand, reconsidered, and offered her other hand on the same side, seemingly unsure which would work better.

“cool cool, hold on a sec.” she was going to shake hands with an alien. an alien girl, for that matter. she was very glad for the calming effect these drugs had on her. she would need to ask about those later. for now, she popped one of her flight suit gloves off, letting it dangle at the cuff, and wiped her gross sweaty palm on her leg before leaning in and giving adsun the best approximation of a human handshake her shy sheltered ass could possibly muster. which, based on her wiggly reaction, was probably a good one. she couldn’t help but notice how soft and fuzzy adsun’s snakelike skin was.

oh! exquisite. yes. thank you, maria. she let go, moved away slightly. considering. in her ship, with its time-bending effect on reality, she probably had plenty of time to sit and think. she couldn’t help but envy her for that. I don’t suppose… and you’ve really been so kind to me so far, very patient, and I appreciate that very much, but perhaps, if you would indulge me just a moment, we could, well. my version of a handshake, I suppose.

maria nodded. “absolutely, though I can’t say I’m coming into this with the sort of knowledge you do.”

she pointed to her forehead. we put our foreheads together. that’s basically it. but only if you want.

in lieu of a spoken answer, maria pulled herself up to adsun, placing her forehead against hers. it was… very warm. wow. she barely resisted the urge to touch her hair, but that wasn’t worth the risk right now.

adsun let out a rumble, like a low purr. oh maria, how you indulge me. thank you.

“no problem at all,” she said as they parted. “now we can get down to business. I feel like you might want to explain more about that whole, you know, galactic treaty thing. that you are probably breaking.”

oh, yes, of course. she shifted her position, fidgeted. well, you humans are, for now, though I cannot foresee what might happen in the near future because of this, but for now you are quite sheltered. you occupy a certain quasi-official status as a galactic civilization, but as you have been, well, mostly uncontacted, that status is provisional until you can join the rest of us at our level. she turned, scratched an itch on her back. I do not mean to imply, kind maria, that this “level” I speak of is a technological one. no, I simply am referring to whether or not you are active members of the galactic community. ideally, contact is made around the time a civilization is able to effectively travel or communicate with nearby civilizations. this is done in as careful a manner as possible. until such time as the community at large is willing to make ourselves known and contact you on an official level, you have a provisional protected status. no contact is to be made beyond the major official one. ideally.

as you can probably guess, what is occurring right now is technically a form of contact, and this puts me in a lot of trouble. you, however, are in no trouble at all. that does not necessarily make this easy for either of us, though. and I am sorry to have put you in this situation. she looked maria dead in the eyes, now. truly, I am. because I have to admit now, that this was all quite on purpose. I am sorry. she looked away. embarrassed. upset. you see, there are certain exceptions in the treaty, that allow… well. very one-sided affairs. for purely scientific purposes, you understand. most pre-contact species have a history of purported alien abductions or appearances, and you humans are no different, and while most of those cases for most of us can be explained away as the misinterpretation of the mundane, some, I must admit, are real. it is allowed, to a certain extent. as I said. for scientific purposes. this is, quite obviously, not that. I apologize. she backed away now, folded a pair of arms together. worried.

maria needed some time to process this. “so this isn’t for scientific purposes.”

no, no. these days we can study you from quite a distance, if we want. which we do. to keep tabs. we do our best not to pry into small details, to respect privacy, but it is in the interests of the galactic community to make sure you are safe from interference. and also. well. to make sure you are not a threat.

“so, do you think we are a threat?” she asked, trying not to let the worry bleed into her voice. probably not succeeding.

silence, for a minute. no, she began, slowly, but we are not sure. perhaps mostly, you are a threat to yourselves. I do not mean to insult you, kind maria. but humans have not been very kind to humans. we are torn, to some degree, between respecting our distance and letting you do your own thing, and also keeping you safe. the consensus, as it almost always tends to be, eventually fell towards stepping back. observing from a distance. waiting to see how you do. not interfering. she shook her head, seemingly upset. I do not subscribe to that particular mode of thought. I admit, I am fond of you humans. you have the potential to be strong friends. in the future. but you have been going through quite a rough patch. for quite some time. we are told to stay impartial, always impartial. I cannot remain so. I suppose I am at fault, for that. if one can be said to be at fault for caring. even so, I felt like I had to do something. so I came here.

“you came here, and you found me. of all people!” maria laughed. “why? I mean it seems clear you want to do something, and I certainly appreciate that. I absolutely agree that we are being unkind to ourselves. it is…” she tried to find the right words to say. she didn’t feel like having a political rant in front of an alien, not just yet anyway. “it is supremely unbalanced. and physically, the danger up here is considerable. my job, as you could probably have guessed, is to try to reduce that danger. I came to this busted satellite to assess its potential for scrap. either way, we need it out of orbit. we need so many things out of orbit. our work, as they say, is never truly finished.” she looked at adsun, searching for something in her stoic expression. she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. but something else clicked in her head, at that moment. “you wanted to find a scrapper, didn’t you? one of us?”

adsun made a hand gesture; agreement. just so. not you in particular, obviously. just the first person to come by. to see what had happened to this thing. suddenly, a wave of concern came off of her. oh, just to be clear, I did not destroy this satellite. I would not have made matters worse, I assure you. I just waited for one of sufficient size to get put out of commission. as you said yourself, the work is never truly finished, and I did not need to wait particularly long. I wiggled my ship in here the moment I noticed I had a way in. but I did take you on purpose. and I am sorry I had to restrain you like I did. I know my remark about interrogation was a joke, but, and she turned towards maria, closer now, I do in fact wish to ask you some questions. I think the proper word would be… an interview. yes. just so. up to you, of course.

“wait, so…” the pieces were starting to come together. somewhat. still many missing, but a pattern was becoming clear. “you aren’t here to do science. but you… you’re a…”

I am a journalist, adsun replied, finishing her sentence for her. just so. perhaps not what you were expecting, yes? I am here to make a case to my people. to the community, so to speak. a case for assistance, even if mild. perhaps an accelerated plan towards contact. an intervention. I am still not entirely sure what is to be done myself. but I figured sitting back and watching would not be entirely beneficial. I wanted to speak with one of you. and I have already learned so very much, kind maria. I understand this is so very much to ask of you, but it would be my utmost honor to use you as a source, to help build my case, such as it is.

“I uh. sure, yes.”

before you respond, I, oh. she had not expected such a sudden response. are you sure? this is not something to enter into lightly. I do not know if this would get you into trouble due to the treaty or not, and as for your own human laws, I am most certainly unsure. this is unfamiliar territory. she shifted slightly. fidgety again. nervous. also you should know that the dose I gave you has long worn off. I would not have asked of you something of such gravity unless your mind was as clear as possible, but if there is residual stress you can delay your answer. either way would be fine.

it did in fact come as a surprise to maria that she had been clearheaded for some time now, at least as far as her body was concerned. she was much more calm than usual, but perhaps the cozy dark silence of this craft was doing her some actual good. and sharing space with adsun was not as frightening as she might have thought. slight panic began to rise up within her, but she settled it down, took a few deep breaths.

this was, she knew, extremely dangerous. this whole situation was. but for the first time in a long long time, she felt something like hope. like something could change, like she could actually begin to help. it was worth the risk. and she felt a spark of bravery growing within her. one she had been trying to kindle for so very long. she reached over and gave adsun’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, hoping desperately that it would not be taken poorly. that soft purring noise seemed to imply she was in the clear. “kind adsun,” she said, “I’ll do it.”

ah, very good! potent waves of happiness washed over her. we have so much to discuss. let us begin.

#writing #gay aliens #I probably won't do this a lot because I had to fix all the formatting manually when I copied it over

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curlsandcrown · 7 years ago

Text

Resolutions

Summary: Jughead and Betty try to rekindle their friendship before the new year. (Ao3) Word Count: 1,703 Warnings: some relationship angst (post 2x09) and some cute stuff! Prompt: ‘here. you can have the rest.’ Tags: if anyone would like to be on our permanent tag list for when we post, let us know!

Jughead missed Betty. It was the dumbest thing he could have ever done to let her go, but he was afraid of the path she was wanting to go down for him. No, more than that, he was terrified of what he was becoming. Betty Cooper deserved better than that.

They tried to fall back into a friendship along with Veronica and Archie, whose relationship issues seemed to be resolved within the blink of an eye, but it just wasn’t the same. He could see the pain in Betty’s eyes every time she looked at him, the way her fingers curled into her palms occasionally, and the heavier than usual makeup underneath her eyes. Between the Serpents and this heartbreak, he wasn’t getting much sleep either. And it had barely been two weeks.

As New Year’s Eve approached, Veronica was an excited mess. She was constantly talking about the party she was having at the Pembrooke and that she only wanted her best friends to be there.

“No repeats of the Nick St. Clair situation,” she said as she typed on her phone, eyes flicking up at Jughead from across the booth at Pop’s. “Betty will be there.”

Jughead studied the basket of fries in front of him before returning his gaze to Veronica.

“Veronica, how many times do I have to tell you that we’re just friends?”

The eye roll from Veronica was massive. It would have brought a smile to his lips under other circumstances.

“Oh, please. You’re friends just like Archie and I tried to be until we stopped pretending.” Her words, although true, still stung. Putting her phone down on the table, she looked at him. “Look, you’re both hurting and I hate seeing you like this.”

He sighed and asked, “How is she?”

“The break from school has been good for her, but I know she misses you.”

Veronica was just being honest, blunt and obvious about her wanting the two of them to make up and get back together, but he frankly didn’t want to hear it. It was hard enough with his heart wanting the same thing.

“I’ll come to your party, but please don’t do anything with Betty and me.” The words came out harsher than he meant, but Veronica just arched an eyebrow and nodded.

“I promise,” Veronica started before picking her phone back up and sliding out of the booth. “8 o’clock on New Year’s Eve. Be there or I’ll come find you.”

The smile on her face said playful but the look in her eyes was completely serious. With a nod, he dove back into his fries as the sound of Veronica’s heels clicked on the floor as she made her way to the door.

In true Veronica Lodge fashion, the apartment she shared with her parents was decorated as if it was the end of the world and not the end of the year. Even though there weren’t that many people there - Veronica herself, Jughead, Archie, Betty, Josie, Kevin, Valerie, Melody, Reggie, and Cheryl - she had obviously put a lot of work into making it the perfect night for the group.

The music playing in the apartment was low, just enough to know what the song was but not enough that it was difficult to carry a conversation because of it. It really was nice, even Jughead had to admit that.

But he was more focused on Betty than anything else.

She looked gorgeous as always in her outfit, pale pink tulle skirt with a sequined top. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen her in before not counting her get up at the Whyte Worm. If he had to wager a guess, he’d say that Veronica had helped her pick it out. And, judging by the way she was pulling the top down constantly, he was sure he was correct.

He hadn’t been there long, and yes he had come late. And, yes, he had about 20 texts from Veronica on his phone to prove it. But before he knew what was happening, Archie was striding over with a huge grin on his face.

“Jughead!” He shouted, throwing an arm over his shoulders. Archie wasn’t even drunk; he was just that happy. “We’re going to have a great new year. My dad is home, your dad is home. We’re gonna be good.”

Archie’s enthusiasm had always been contagious, and he was right. They were both extremely lucky that their dads were home. As he smiled at his best friend, he felt a tugging at his heart. Yeah, they were going to be good, but while Archie had Veronica and they were doing really well, he had lost Betty.

“Have you talked to Betty?” Archie whispered like he was reading his mind. Jughead shook his head in response. “Go talk to her, okay? You don’t want to have this tension in the new year.”

Without another word, Archie pulled his arm from Jughead’s shoulders and pushed him gently. Then he walked back over to Veronica, settling down on the loveseat and pulling her into his lap. Her laugh rang out throughout the apartment and Jughead pulled his eyes away, glancing over at Betty to find her looking at him.

He waved awkwardly and took a deep breath as he made his way over to her.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Jug.” Betty smiled softly. “Happy New Year.”

“This party is - it’s very big.”

“It’s big, just like Veronica’s heart.” Betty laughed softly and looked into the glass she was holding before returning her eyes to him. “This is her way of showing us she loves us.”

That was something he had learned about Veronica recently. She might have difficulties telling people she loved them, but she didn’t have trouble showing it. And that was something he could learn from her. Archie’s words rang in his head. You don’t want to have this tension in the new year.

“I know things have been hard lately, Betts, but I want to go into the new year being better friends than we are right now.”

Her eyes flickered, from uneasy to surprise, and the awkward smile on her lips grew into a more genuine one.

“I would like that, too, Jug.”

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”

Cheers erupted around the expansive room. There were New Year’s kisses being planted on everyone, Veronica and Archie, Josie and Reggie, Melody and Valerie pecked each other on the cheeks, before Cheryl stepped up to Josie and Reggie, pushing the boy out of the way to press her own kiss to the corner of Josie’s lips. Then she turned to Kevin and the two kissed gently. The only two not involved in the tradition were Betty and Jughead and it was awkward, to say the least.

Pulling at his collar, he was close to bending down and asking if he could kiss her because he knew she felt out of place, before Kevin was dancing over. The boy wrapped his arms around Betty and dipped her playfully, plopping a wet kiss on her forehead. The resounding laugh she let out caused a smile to come to Jughead’s lips and Kevin looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“You have to kiss someone, too, Jughead,” he said, signaling for Veronica to come over.

“No, it’s okay.” He shook his head and Veronica smirked, eyes a little glassy from the champagne she had been drinking.

“Come on! Even if it’s just a peck on the cheek.”

Betty looked uncomfortable but she was still smiling as she nodded, glancing at Veronica. Then the girls were both coming toward him and his eyes widened. Before he could protest anymore, they were pressing their lips to his cheeks. Betty’s kiss lasted longer than Veronica’s. When they pulled back, Veronica immediately went back to Archie and Betty was blushing as she looked up at him. Kevin had already walked off and, as the music was turned up, it was like he could only see Betty.

“Happy New Year, Jug.”

“Happy New Year, Betts.”

As usual, he ended up at Pop’s the next day to have breakfast. It was an unspoken tradition that he had come up with for himself, but this year it was different. He felt lighter than he had in a long time and, after his dad left the booth to start his shift, Jughead took out his laptop so he could work on his book.

The words seemed to flow out of him as he wrote about the New Year and all that a clean start could offer someone. He must have sat there writing for hours.

The bell over the door dinged, signaling that someone was coming into the diner, and he lifted his head to see who it was.

Betty.

When she saw him, she smiled widely and after a moment of hesitation she made her way over to his table.

“Can I sit?” She asked, sliding into the booth when he nodded.

It was the first time in the last couple of weeks that he’d seen her without much makeup on. It looked like she was feeling lighter too.

“Are you writing?”

“Yeah, and I think I’m really getting somewhere.”

Betty grabbed the extra menu off of the table and looked it over before her eyes focused on him.

“That’s great. I’ve been thinking about The Blue & Gold a lot lately. This year is going to be a big one for it.”

And just like that, they fell into a comfortable conversation about their official and unofficial resolutions (his being the unofficial ones). They ended up sitting there and talking until lunchtime, so they ordered new meals and ate together.

He finished his milkshake before her and he pushed the basket of fries over to her.

“Here. You can have the rest.”

She laughed softly to herself and he grinned before focusing on his laptop screen.

Before the party, he wasn’t that hopeful for his friendship with Betty. Now, he knew that she needed to be in his life in one way or another. They both needed each other if the sparkle in her eyes was any indication. His biggest resolution was being a better friend to the girl he would forever love.

Happy New Year! Written by R. Thanks for all of the support with our fics the last few months. We have several things in works, so we’ll be back in 2018!

J + R

#bughead #bughead fic #betty cooper #jughead jones #riverdale fic #riverdale

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shamelessly4shameless-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Another Way (pt 3)

Ian washes the assortment of condiments from his short hair and watches the smears of ketchup and mustard circle the plug before sliding wetly down the drain. His hands are shaking as he runs them over his scalp, the water trickling down the back of his uniform, sliding down his spine before soaking into the tucked fabric of his shirt. He has wedged the bathroom door closed and he’s pretty sure no one tried to follow him anyway but if they come for him now, Ian knows he will likely kill one of them.

It is an uncomfortable knowledge. His mind is a swirling mass of rage, fear and a strange elation that keeps coming and going seemingly without reason or control. Ian knows it is most likely the stress of the hazing but it’s freaking him out. In lucid moments, he can feel that something is going very wrong but then the jittery, invincible feeling worms its way back up into his skull and he wants to do something wild. Last night he wanted to fly. Maybe steal a helicopter or a tank or maybe just fuck up the dorms. He wanted to make a stand and prove a point. Ian had felt like nothing was beyond him and that if he killed one or two of the assholes who won’t leave him alone, everyone would understand, they might even promote him! Private Gallagher is dead, long live Sergeant Gallagher. Maybe General Gallagher!

But that was last night and when he woke up this morning he was just tired and miserable again.

The door bangs hard but the chair holds and Ian drops to the floor, scrabbling backwards until he comes up against the far wall. His breathing is shallow and his eyes are huge, staring forward without blinking. He doesn’t think he has ever been so terrified in his life. Of people, of a place, of himself. Whoever it is decides to try another bathroom because the door doesn’t get tested again. Ian pulls his cell phone out of his pocket it and cradles it in his palms, waiting for his lip to stop quivering. He grips the phone and tucks his chin onto his chest, fighting the convulsive shivers that are running through his body. He’s so frightened it is almost choking him. What the fuck is going on?

He needs help but not the kind Fiona or even Lip can give him. Fiona would storm the gates and drag him out, but she would also be upset and make it a huge drama. Not on purpose but she’d pile the kids into Steve’s car and make a whole damn family outing of his rescue. And she’d see it as a rescue too which is another reason he can’t call.

He can’t call Lip because he used his ID and worse than that he doesn’t want to admit that he has failed. Things have been so weird between them and he loves his brother but Ian doesn’t want him knowing about this. It’s the first time he has branched out on his own and it’s been a colossal fuck up.

Ian dashes an impatient hand under his eye and sniffs heavily. He flips the phone up and presses redial. It rings and rings, then there is a muffled curse, and a snarling voice erupts into Ian’s ear.

“What the fuck do you want, asshole?”

It is so wonderful to hear that voice that Ian almost can’t respond and when he does, his voice comes out in a breathy whisper.

“Mickey?”

“Gallagher?”

Ian nods and then realises that Mickey can’t see him

“Yeah it’s me.”

“Have you been calling? Was that you last night?”

“Yeah I’m sorry I just …”

Ian wipes a stray tear from his cheeks and tips his head back against the wall, leaving a wet print against the pale blue paint. Mickey is in a temper, that much is clear from his tone but it doesn’t matter.

“Why the fuck didn’t you send a damn text?”

“I didn’t think of it.”

“Well I would have fuckin’ answered if I knew it was you.”

“You would? I probably wouldn’t if you called me.”

Ian wonders if Mickey has hung up after the sting of that comment but after a few moments he says

“Where the fuck are you?”

Ian sniffs heavily, wiping his nose on his sleeve

“I’m in the army.”

There is another pause and then Mickey huffs a heavy breath down the line

“Are you crying?”

The concern breaking through the harsh tone is too much and the last of Ian’s fortitude crumbles. He turns the phone away from his face as he goes to pieces, burying his face in the crook of his arm to muffle the noise.

“Gallagher? GALLAGHER? Fuck sake! IAN! What’s goin’ on?”

Mickey’s irate voice drags him back and Ian draws a shuddering breath.

“I’m in trouble Mickey. I fucked up and I think they’re gonna kill me unless I kill them and I don’t want to. I’m so fucking fucked.”

“What? Has some fuckin’ jarhead asshole threatened you? What happened?”

“They just won’t stop. I don’t know what to do.”

Ian is sobbing so hard the words come out in a strained, hiccuping rush of breath and Mickey’s voice hardens back to its familiar gruffness.

“You call your family? Lip? Fiona?”

“I can’t. I just … I can’t call them.”

Mickey mutters a curse that Ian doesn’t quite catch and Ian can almost see the hard-edged, calculating scowl that he knows instinctively is on the other boys face.

“Where are you?”

“In the …”

“Yeah, yeah. The Army. I got that. Where in the country?”

Ian takes a couple of deep breaths and stammers

“Fort Knox. Kentucky.”

“Jesus Christ. OK, I’m gonna have to get gas but I can make that. What is it, like four hours? Five?”

“You don’t have to...”

“I know I don’t fuckin’ have to. Just pack your shit and be ready.”

“It’s not … I can’t just leave. It’s like … illegal.”

“Well it don’t fuckin’ sound like you have a choice. Keep your phone with you and if any asshole tries anything before I get there, shoot ‘em in the face.”

Mickey hangs up and sits staring out of the windshield at the rundown old house, his fingers gripping the steering wheel. He glances up at the rear-view mirror, at the dark circles under his eyes and his dishevelled hair.

“Fuck.”

He whispers to his reflection and rubs a hand over his face, hard. He gives himself another few seconds of quietly anxious brooding and then snaps into action. One thing that Mickey will always credit a South Side childhood with is that it forces a person to be able to move from one shitty situation to an even shittier one with pretty smooth transition.

Mickey gets out of the car and heads back into the house, head held high and swaggering like a cowboy in a black and white movie. Svetlana is making herself breakfast and simply cocks an eyebrow at him as he walks past.

Iggy asks if he can have the car, Mickey growls at him to fuck off and judiciously keeps the keys with him while he showers and washes his hair. Kenyatta has left a bottle of cologne on the side and as he towels his body dry and then styles his hair, Mickey’s eyes keep returning to it.

He’s never worn cologne before, but then he’s never gone on a rescue mission before either. Normally when he is going after someone, it is the opposite of a damn rescue so perhaps he can stand to change things up a little.

Mickey cautiously picks up the bottle and gives it a little shake before dabbing some of the musky smelling liquid onto his fingers and patting along the length of his jaw. He once saw an old film in which the leading lady trailed perfume between her breasts to let the leading man know she was down to bang and Mickey figures that if he’s gone this far why not finish the job? He puts a little more of the cologne on his hand and roughly rubs his fingers through his pubes.

He dresses in dark jeans and black tank top but grabs his one decent button down shirt and slings it into a bag along with two handguns and his favourite knuckle-duster. Ian sounded pretty messed up on the phone, best to be ready to fight as well as fuck.

Mickey turns to face Svetlana’s mirror and assesses himself frankly. He can’t do much about the scabbed lip or tired eyes but his hair looks pretty fuckin’ decent and he’s been working out more with his brothers to try and avoid spending too much time with his wife so his arms look alright in the tank.

Overall, Mickey thinks, he’ll do.

Ian doesn’t shoot anyone but a couple of hours later, he gets into a fight. It starts with a slap, sharp and stinging across his left cheek as he walks past Stirling and his gang in the mess hall. Ian freezes and then the word ‘Queer’ is said by one of the group and something inside him snaps. He doesn’t remember much, but he knows he made a lot of noise and at some point bit someone’s leg until his jaw cramped.

Rough hands pulled him out of the fray and pushed him backwards and some instinct other than violence took over because suddenly Ian is running. He pushes out of the doors of the building and sprints across the gravel courtyard. The gates are open for cadets coming in from the training fields to get their evening meal and Ian doesn’t hesitate, he takes off down the road, nose streaming blood and snot, everything he owns is left behind, except his cell phone which he clutches for dear life.

#shameless #shameless us #shameless fanfiction #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #Ian loves Mickey #Mickey x Ian #mickey milkovich #Milkovich #gallavich

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mdarwin · 5 years ago

Text

Broke Thorough - Spring 2018

Broke Thorough

DAY ONE

Dr. Cousins had been working with patient E for a couple of weeks, and she was next for our team meeting. I was already exhausted after two patients on this, my first day at 11 Greenberg North… but she was the one I’d been looking forward to. I looked around at the other interns to see if they were as eager as I was, but made sure not to show it myself. Along with all the other things this month was, it was also something I needed to be at the head of or else I’d lose my own. I smoothed my pencil skirt over my thighs where I was perched on the radiator and prepared myself for the most psychotic person in the building.

An orderly whose name might have been Angie led E into the conference room by the shoulders, coaxed her softly to sit in a chair opposite Dr. Cousins, and said to him, “I’ll be just outside if you need me.” E was on status, but for an unusual reason: One-to-one care was usually only prescribed when the patient was in pressing danger of hurting him or herself (everyone knew that) but E was on status because she couldn’t move around by herself. There were twenty-two patients on the unit, and all of them could feed and bathe themselves, all of them could get up off the couch and walk to their beds, all of them could helplessly write letters of appeal to a court that wouldn’t read the plea in such earnest and unbureaucratic handwriting… except for E. E would wake up in the morning and be led around all day -- to the dining room, where every day the staff got their hopes up she’d bring food to her lips, and, defeated each time, got a few bites in her through the otherworldly grin she rarely released. They helped her in the shower, getting dressed, sat her down when her parents came to see her. They led her to a couch in front of the TV, where she sat for hours with a gaze fixed on the ceiling, hands resting inside the join of her blue scrub pant legs. It’d been determined she wasn’t self-stimulating, but every time someone managed to get her hands out of her pants, she’d just put them back; it was one of the only things she seemed to be able to do, was put her hands there. With fists together under the fabric and drool oozing down her chin down to her breasts, bare under a matching scrub top, she seemed to demand nothing, while what we demanded of her was impossible.

I learned all of this later, though, along with the fact that there was nothing to be eager about in meeting E, in seeing her see through walls, through eyes, through planes, staring at her friend that never left her, whom we’d never be introduced to outside of his component chemical imbalance, CAT scans, medication trial-and-error. She would be one of thousands of patients I’d have in what became a forty-year career working with the nonlucid, but this was the first day of those forty years, and I’d never yet seen someone in person who’d lifted off.

“Hello. Can you tell me if you know where you are?” She was looking past Dr. Cousins’ right ear as he asked, going through motions he’d had to every monday, for this silent haint. Up at the ceiling she stared, and I swear I saw tears in her eyes at the sight of stale flecks of dust that drifted into the light from the pale of this brutally precise inquisition.

DAY EIGHT

Goddamn it, I swear I’m well-socialized, but patients are terrifying. They reject everything and make me feel like a fucking idiot. What am I supposed to say out loud to someone who can’t hear me because of a problem I’m supposed to fix?

We were in the art studio and I was E’s one-to-one, to get some live facetime into my hours, but I wasn’t strong enough to lift her up when she keeled over forward onto the table, swinging like a hinge from where her legs bent and where she cupped her hands. I wasn’t strong enough to try.

That evening, E’s mother came for visiting hours and saw the purple marks from where E’s forehead had landed on uncapped Crayolas, and she wiped them off of her with spit and thumb.

DAY FIFTEEN

On this particular monday, it was all about an orange sharpie. The nurse’s station was abuzz with apathy.

“I do not get paid enough to wrestle a writing instrument from that girl’s hand.”

“You think she’d fight back?”

“Are you seriously asking me to predict what that child will or will not do?”

“Well, where did she get it?”

“What do you mean, ‘where did she get it’? If we kept track of every little thing on this unit -- you know what? I’m not even gonna say it. You know what would happen.”

“As if we ever do get to go home in the first place now…”

“Mm-hmm.”

Other patients sometimes fought. They sometimes threw things, and kicked, and snuck in life-threatening contraband, and sometimes they fucked each other in between checks, and sometimes they spit. The spit had to be the worst, though. It hadn’t happened to me, but I’d heard Shirley, who wanted to go home and not think about orange sharpies, explain that being spit on by someone who hates you because they’re ill isn’t any less hurtful than being spit on by someone who hates you for some logical reason. Then she said that “more hurtful” doesn’t even begin to cover it, when her Danny is with Mrs. Klee in the apartment down the hall four hours longer than he was supposed to be, so that she can wrestle patient J down with restraints so that he doesn’t strangle patient D, who has a death wish anyway; both of them full-grown boys in their twenties whom patient J considers to be on opposing sides of an imagined war with the illuminati. Shirley said when they spit, it takes a long, hard look in the mirror at home to remember why you come in the next day.

But patient E didn’t pose the same threat as other patients on this unit. There were male patients who had their eye on her, and sometimes she stared back at them, eyes glassy, before erupting in a laughter that was like dreams; a myth; a laugh like nonsense. She was moving on her own now, dancing laps around the nurse’s station, hands out to her sides, but she still hadn’t regained speech. Patient E was a model of hospital behavior: she never caused trouble, because she never caused anything… not change, or impact; she just danced a ballet around the unit like it was a stage, and she didn’t ask anyone to pay attention to the story, or the footwork. She didn’t ask anything, even though we were begging her to want, with everything we had. ‘She’s here,’ I sometimes thought to myself. ‘She really is here.’

There was orange… everywhere.

DAY TWENTY-NINE

It was only I who saw her, in the doorway of her room, pink and naked and trembling with a grin against a backdrop of curved orange lines -- worms and cows and books and mountains -- and she emerged slowly as I came upon the threshold. I took the child by the shoulders, with the few years I had on her and so much gained from what she lacked, and it took but a nudge to ease her back in, away from the world asking of her. She met my eyes.

“Not naked, no,” I said.

“Okay.”

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