#there is so much bird shit in that operating room

[iaminsideyourwalls]

Goodness I love how you draw the mercs!! Like seriously your art is such an inspiration!

If your taking requests, can I get a Medic interacting with his birds/archimedes pretty please :3

aWWWWW

that's so nice to hear because i admire YOUR art (ˊ•͈ ◡ •͈ˋ)

here. bada bing and, if I may, bada boom. i made it a comic.

more bird-related content:

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpxdc AU: consultant groups can be used to outsource problems for companies so why not monarchies?

Danny is listening to the various eyeballs and ghosts chatter on about all the issues that he now has to oversee and advise and make so many freaking decisions on. It’s annoying that it all has to come down to his call because he was a dumb 14 year old who didn’t want his town to permanently live in the ghost zone.

Now 17, King of the Infinite, and a bit wiser to the world, Danny is doing his best to balance his teenage ambitions to not give a shit and his protective obsession to very much give a shit.

Sams parents are making her learn the family business and Tucker is trying to make this internship he’s got with a fancy tech company out of New Jersey into a career without college… so while they’re commiserating with Danny the idea comes up.

Earth has a shit ton of heroes. Like, ever since the Justice League *poofed* the GIW out of existence with the Meta human acts- more and more caped crusaders seemed to be coming out of the wood work. More villains too but still, more people who seemed wise to their abilities and morals. Danny has literally never taken an ethics class.

But rn, Eye-mothy and Eye-Bert are arguing over how Danny as King Phantom is supposed to tackle the problem of some fucking pool acting as a weird trade route with a cult and… ugh it’s just so boring but like also such a fucking problem. But… maybe it can be someone else’s issue.

Opening a portal, Danny escapes into space and gets to work finding the base of operations- Tucker had told him there was a new satellite after all and there’s no way it wasn’t connected to the hero orgs- and boom he flies into the Watchtower.

“Hey- are any of you guys willing to consult on some weird pools of ectoplasm in Pakistan? Green and glowing little lakes of bullshit and magic?” Danny asks into the meeting room of the JL regardless of their startled and alarmed exclamations.

“… I could consult on that.” A voice comes from the corner, and Danny recognizes him as one of the bat people. Or bird? The guy is in a lot of red and clearly wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting based on the way he’s propped in the corner. The room erupts in protest but Danny barely hears them through his excitement and focus on the dude.

“Great! I’ll have him back before the end of the day! Lets go Bird boy!” And with that, Danny grabbed the Bird, chucked them both through a portal back into his thrown room and begins to explain the way these eyeballs are totally trying to trap him into doing more work than he needs to do.

“What do I call you by the way? I’m Danny but you’ll probably hear them call me King Phantom.”

“I go by Red Robin, and honestly, I’ve been trying to get this shit taken care of for years.”

From there Tim becomes a regular consultant for King Phantom- the Bat Family is losing their minds with him constantly going to the land of the dead but also Constantine said not to piss off the king at all costs.

Danny is just thrilled that this dude has a shit ton of insight as well as business sense- like he could legit run the monarchy way better than him despite the fact that they’re the same age.

They end up working together for years, and even when there’s not an active issue at hand, Danny will meet up with the bird just to talk.

Sam and Tucker think they’re hilarious each time they ask if Danny’s proposed yet.

Tim has already planned their wedding but all of that information is in a folder more secured than the nuclear codes- Danny needs to ask him on a date first.

[thevoidstaredback]

"Guys!" Nightwing shouted once he and Batman arrived in the main are of the Bat Cave, "I have some fantastic news!"

Bruce pulled his cowl off, his amusement no longer being hidden as he nearly failed to keep from laughing.

Everyone had gathered in the Cave to await the two who'd gone to the Watchtower, so everyone was already there to hear the exclamation. Even Alfred was with them all.

"Calm down, Big Bird," Jason said from his place on the meeting table, "What's going on?"

Dick was bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Can I tell 'em, B? Can I, can I?!"

Bruce chuckled, "I'm not stopping you."

He cheered before turning back to the rest of his family, "They think there's a total of three-" he held up three fingers on his left hand, "-of us operating within Gotham, myself excluded because I'm in Bludhaven."

"Wait," Stephanie called, "They think Batman only has three people helping to cover Gotham? They know we're human, right?"

Dick shook his head, his grin only getting bigger. "Nope! They think Batman only has two sidekicks covering Gotham with him."

This caused everyone to laugh, the humor breaking any seriousness anyone would've tried to control to keep on topic. It was nice, Bruce smiled, to be able to let loose with everyone like this. His family was altogether, spending time with one another, doing things that didn't include head hunts or injuries.

Alfred took his place beside Bruce. "This is nice, isn't it."

"It is."

"You can die a happy man now?"

A chuckle. "You killing me off so soon?"

"Of course not, Master Bruce," He's smirking, "I'm simply stating a fact."

"Ha!"

"What're you guys talking about over there?" Tim called. Everyone had gathered at the meeting table to go over final details and slight changes for the set up tomorrow. "C'mon! We've gotta finish putting this all together."

Duke nodded from over his shoulder, "Yeah! New information allows room for some much more fun!"

Jason smirked. "Yeah, old man, Alfred! We want to see if we can get away with switching out with each other. It'll confuse the hell outta the Leaguers."

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he and Alfred joined the kids at the table. "How are you going to pull that off? Despite what you all may thing, the others are all a lot more observant than given credit for-"

"Except the Flash and Green Arrow." Cass cut in.

"Hey!" Dick said, "Don't dis Barry like that!"

"Yeah," Barbra agreed, "And Ollie's whole thing is spotting details. He prides himself on it!"

"If that were true, then we wouldn't be planning on how to mess with them, now would we?"

Tim nodded, "Damian's right."

"As you were saying?" Bruce prompted.

"Well," Jason continued, "You, Damian, and Dick have to be here as Batman, Nightwing, and Robin. They all probably know about me, so I'll stay out of the Cave, but you can bet your ass that I'll be in the Clocktower with Babs, listening in on everything." He looked to Tim and Babs. "Should we set up cameras?"

Tim thought for a second, "If we want to record this, then yeah. I can have them all set up by morning."

"I'll help you set it up before I head out tonight," Barbra agreed.

"Anyway," Stephanie interrupted, pulling the attention to herself, "Tim, Cass, and I could totally get away with running around and messing with their senses and shit. And if we can get Kate and Selina in on this-"

"You've already talked to them, haven't you." Bruce asked. The matching grins on everyone's faces was answer enough. He sighed.

"Having fun," Cass patted his arm, "Bonding."

He snorted. 'Bonding', yeah right. Maybe letting his coworkers be the target of his childrens' whims is a bad idea. Then again, their not hurting anyone. It's all fun in games.

Bruce sat at the head of the table. "Alright. We all know about Superman's ability to hear heartbeats and breathing patterns. He's able to memorize someone's vitals, especially his friends. It's safe to assume he's got mine down, as well as Robin's and Nightwing's."

Damian scoffed. "Changing my vitals will be no issue for me."

Bruce nodded, "Me, either."

Dick nodded along, "Soundseasy enough. But what's the plan?"

"Oracle will call you out for an emergency in Bludhaven. Red Hood will call me out for some information at the docks. We'll met up at the Clocktower and switch costumes." he explained.

Barbra had a manic look on her face. "We should have Steph and Cass stay away from the Cave at first, then have them come in separately, but sharing a costume." SHe turned her attention to the blonde. "You have a spare Spoiler costume, yeah?"

Stephanie matched her grin, "Naturally."

"What about me, Tim, and Damian?" Duke asked.

"How would you and Tim like to be actual bats?" the red head wondered, "Or maybe ghosts?"

"Do we get to mess with shit?" Tim asked.

"Naturally."

"I'm in," the two responded.

"Damian will run distraction," Jason said," He'll be the only one who stays with the JL the whole time they're here. Alfred will have to keep cover upstairs. I'll bounce between the Manor, the Clocktower, and patrol."

"Are you quite sure?" Alfred asked, "That's quite a lot to be doing."

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he assured.

Brice cleared his throat. "If everyone's ready?" Looks around the table before nods of affirmation. "Good. Finish up any last minute changes and preparations. They've agreed to meet at the Watchtower at fifteen hundred New Jersey time so that I can bring them here. Damian, I want you to come with me."

"Of course, father."

"Ready? Break."

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @sebas-nights

[gallusrostromegalus]

You ohhhandedly mentioned tessai livong through ww2 and… wow thats true there were a lot of characters that got a first row seat to both conflicts, even if only the second was really impactful on japans history. Does urahara, yoruichi, tessai, the vizored or any of the shinigami have any specific feelings on ww2/the nuclear bombs? I know its a wild fucking question but it literally just occurred to me and i cant stop thinking about it.

Yeah WW2 is an entire 5-chapter arc in the fic because apparently Kubo is from Hiroshima, and Karakura town is based on his memories growing up there. Stuff that happens during that arc:

The Soul Society's sole warning that something catastrophic might be coming is the arrival of an irradiated and enraged Coyote spirit from the Trinidad test site. It's up to Newly-appointed captain Komamura to calm it down and explain what happened, and Mayuri is able to work out that atomic weapons are real from it's descriptions. He gives Soul Society about a month before the humans drop one on a city.

Unfortunately, he's correct.

***

Urahara and the Visoreds use the fact that they're already dead to mitigate some of the damage from the bombing by walking into the epicenter and shoving carbon rods into the most radioactive points, stemming much of the radiation damage, but there's nothing they can do for the initial wave of destruction.

It involves going through a new gigai every trip and learning what if feels like to have the flesh actually melt off your bones, but Hirako Shinji and the other Visored are no cowards, least of all about Hard and Dirty Work.

Tessai makes Ururu and Jinta out of spare parts from Urahara's Gigai experiments to house a heavily damage Kitsune and Tanuki spirit pair from a shrine that was destroyed. Ururu is the Tankuki, and the older one- Jinta seems a bit more 'organic' because Tessai learned a lot making his sister, and because as a Kitsune, he's a better actor.

***

Soul Society is in major trouble though.

with the sudden influx of souls- first from the bombing, but then from the radiation sickness and the famine that followed, the living and spirit worlds are in danger of becoming unbalanced.

It's a Major Crisis!

Fortunately for them, people with sociopathy tend to operate really well during Crises, and I realized the reason Mayuri hasn't been fired or killed by the time Ichigo shows up is that when shit hits the fan, Mayuri's lack of emotional response to the suffering of others means he can buckle down and fucking DELIVER.

Expansions to the pocket dimension that the queue of incoming souls is housed in? He didn't sleep for two weeks to get it done on time, but there was more than enough room when the bomb dropped and for the few months after as casualties continued.

Emergency rations for all these incoming factory workers that know nothing about farming? Behold, Nutritionally complete meals that you can eat right out of the box! And smaller, friendlier ones for the kiddies!

Hell, the 12th division even makes instructional propaganda videos about how safe and tasty these new foods are, featuring The Grand Clown Himself, and distribution centers featuring his likeness, so Mayuri enjoys a peculiar popularity in the Rukongai, not unlike an off-brand and sometimes educational Krusty The Clown.

Just ah. Stop asking questions about the ingredients list.

***

"I'm not fucking killing civillians." Says Kenpachi when Yamamoto begins to bring up the historical method that the Shinigami have used to balance out sudden influxes of souls from the living world.

"Oh?" Yamamoto glares at him. "You have a better idea?"

"What's them big fuckers that come outta tears sometimes? Hundred feet tall, black, bird faces?" He asks, waving as he tries to remember the names.

"...Menos Grande?" asks Ukitake, who has gotten remarkably good at interpreting for the man next to him at meetings.

"Yeah!" Zaraki grins, patting his six-foot-tall colleague on the head like a small child. "You said they're like... combination creatures of a thousand souls each right?"

"Zaraki is correct." Pipes up Tousen, who is also extremely eager to not murder civilians and even more eager to absolutely fuck up the army of Menos Aizen has been gathering in Hueco Mundo. "-It wouldn't be *easy* but dispatching approximately Five hundred Menos in the next week seems much more doable and much, much more morally sound than killing five hundred thousand civillians. Sir."

Kaname can feel the curse nails on his back starting to bleed from Aizen's glare but he presses on.

"-There appears to be a significant population of them gathered on the far eastern edge of Hueco Mundo. It would probably take most of the 11th Division's forces but-"

"IKKAKU!" Zaraki is already bellowing out the door to his lieutenant. "TELL EVERYONE TO PACK AN EXTRA PAIR OF PANTIES, WE'RE GOING ON A HOLLOW HUNT!"

There is a distant but enthusiastic whoop form Ikkaku in reply.

"An excursion into Hueco Mundo is exceptionally dangerous." Unohana notes, voice placid as he returns to the table.

"-and? I don't do this job because it's safe 'n' easy." Zaraki shrugs.

Her neutral expression softens just a bit into a small, affectionate and perhaps ever-so-slightly lascivious smile. "May I suggest that a detachment of the 4th Division accompany the 11th? It won't make the work easier, but it will mitigate some of the risk."

Yamamoto groans, aware that the decision has been made for him.

"Fine." He grunts. "Take a detachment of the Ninth too, you can use that newfangled radiodar whatsit to keep me updated."

"Pardon?" Mumbles Kaname, slightly woozy from blood loss.

His circulatory situation is not helped when an illusion-blind-to-the-blood Zaraki grabs him about the middle and starts carrying him off under his arm in exactly the direction the 9th and 11th are not like a particularly bewildered purse Chihuahua.

***

Aizen... almost strays from his path.

The Hogyoku is slow and tiresome, his first plan to barrage Karakura with Menos to create the Oken is being trashed and actually being forced to work his job of Rukongai Management is- Well, it's reminding him just why he started this quest to Dethrone God.

What loving creator would make an afterlife of squalor, where the 'lucky' are cursed to outlive everyone they know and love? Not one worth worshiping, surely.

But actually being out here, setting up emergency food distribution, implementing the latest in civil engineering from the newly arrived and seeing it immediately improve the quality of life, uniting families and... actually helping people? it's making him question his path. Perhaps- Perhaps God is not some uncaring regent on a distant throne. Perhaps God is something that lives in all souls, a kindness and goodwill towards one's fellow man, and to spread the will of a loving creator, one must Act to Enact God's Will...

Gin Panics.

He has not spent the last 300-odd years dangling the Hogyoku in front of Aizen, stuffing him full of spiritual energy to feed to the machine that generates reality like he was fattening up a goose for Pate, only to have him give up his quest for divinity NOW.

He's gonna have to do something drastic.

He's gonna have to convince Aizen he was right all along, and that he needs to keep using the Hogyoku.

He's going to need to use Aizen's own Illusions against him, and convince Aizen that the souls of the citizens of the rukongai aren't worth playing a Benevolent God for. That the whole thing needs to come out and be replaced.

Sure, it's a dick move

but those are his specialty.

***

It's the night before the 11th and the two detachments are supposed to leave for Hueco Mundo, and Yamamoto's been doing some thinking.

He is also in Zaraki's quarters at midnight sharp. "Captain-General." Nods Unohana, pausing mid-activity to acknowledge him. "Bruh." Zaraki grunts to indicate they were busy. "I need to borrow Zaraki for an hour or so, and then you may continue." he says, and then steps back outside so the man can get untied and dressed.

"This better be good old man, I know you haven't been married for a few centuries but REALLY-" Zaraki grumbles, emerging and putting his sandals on. "Don’t worry, it’ll take twenty minutes tops, all you have to do is stand behind me and don’t hide your rage." Yamamoto explains. "-We'’re going to go see the central 46." Zaraki pauses mid-sandal, slowly looking up at him with an intrigued arch to his brow. "Yes, it’s forbidden." Yamamoto says, not tearing his gaze away from the moon above them. "-But I've received reports that the Central 46 has acquired blueprints of the... Device. Used in the living world earlier this month and I'm nipping this at the damn bud." Zaraki grins, and finishes putting his sandals on.

The Central 46 are alerted to the Presence of Yamamoto and Zaraki by the main gate to their district being kicked through the wall of the council chambers.

"Hello, Sages and Wise Councilors of the Soul Society!" The Old Man greets them as he steps through the hole he just made, and The Barbarian squeezing through after, sword casually over his shoulder. "Well isn't this a surprise, everyone here in a full meeting at One in the Morning on a Teusday!"

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?" one of the head councilmen sputters, mustache bristling. "Shinigami are forbidden form this place, I'll have you both execu-!"

"Shut up." Yamamoto glares, and sparks fly from the corner of his eye. The hem of his Haori is starting to smolder and singe as well as he approaches the table the councilors are crowded around the blueprints from the living world.

"Now, we are all good and honorable people here." Yamamoto says, casually waving a hand in what would normally be a placating gesture but now only made his sleeve flicker as Ryujin Jakka grew hungrier. "-But I've been around long enough to know how Power corrupts."

"And we've all been exposed to a new, horrific level of Power."

"Oh, of course, you would never! It's unthinkable to sink to such a level!"

"...but it's been a few weeks. The initial shock has faded, and you're starting to understand the full toll of the destruction." he explains, strolling up, the diamond insignia on his back spreading across his shoulders as the Haori singes. Behind him, Zaraki is following with an unpleasantly carnivorous stroll, yellow eye lazily moving from face to face, taking stock of all those present. "...and you are perhaps developing a new standard of devastation and suffering to wish upon your enemies."

There is some muttering, some protesting, and worse, some agreeing. They are silenced by a sudden electric crackle of Energy from Zaraki.

"I’m just here to tell you all-" Yamamoto continues, unperturbed. Or perhaps so perturbed he's warped all the way around to a deep, ruthless peace.

"If I hear any ONE of you has taken steps to develop a weapon like this-" he points a finger at the blueprints, which singe and then burn, a low, slow flame that reduces them completely to ash.

"-I’m going to kill all of you."

"Actually," he explains, as the blueprints finish burning and the table catches as well, fire blooming and crackling, lighting him from beneath. "I’m going to kill all of you and your families. By which I mean, I’m figuring out who all your ancestors were going back Five generations, Kill them, and kill all their descendants."

The table burns, and the floor is threatening to catch, but nobody can move to ring the fire alarm or grab a bucket of water.

"-Because that’s the kind of indiscriminate destruction these things cause." he explains. "It's a damn shame to say this, but this is the first time we've been able to settle whole families in the same town- because five, six, even seven generations of families, from great-great grandmother to the newest infants were burnt together in an instant."

"So if you want to wield that kind of destruction, you best be prepared to deal with those kinds of consequences." he growls, and suddenly sweeps his hand over the fire, which snuffs out immediately.

Slowly he turns to go, and regards Zaraki behind him.

"Oh, and just in case any of you had thoughts of hastening my retirement in regards to this matter-" he speaks up, and points to Zaraki "-Near as I can tell, this asshole is immortal and indestructible, so if I happen to be dead, he'll do it for me, won't you?"

"Yes, sir." Zaraki Nods, eye fixed on the head councilor, committing his face to memory, blade and crackling eagerly.

"-and he's nowhere near as speedy and clean a killer as I am, so I suggest you don't test either of us." Yamamoto grins, and Ryujin Jakka can't help but flicker off his brow for emphasis.

"Goodnight, and go fuck yourselves." Yamamoto bows, and exits through the same hole he entered.

The walk back to the 11th is largely silent, but Yamamot can feel the pleased-yet-curious thrum of reiatsu from Zaraki.

"Question, boss-" he suddenly speaks as they approach the 11th.

"You're not supposed to question orders, Zaraki." He sighs. He'll make a proper shinigami out of him. Eventually.

"...Request for clarification, Boss-" Zaraki tries again, and Yamamoto nods. "-Why me?"

Yamamoto arches an overgrown brow at him.

"Not complainin'-" Zaraki explains, pointedly looking up at the moon and scratching his neck in deferment. "-But Byakuya's got more sway with them and Gin's definitely better at terrifying first impressions."

"Hm." Yamamoto nods. "It's in the follow-up, not the impression, you see."

"I do not." Zaraki says. For all his faults and frustrations, Zaraki sure keeps Yamamoto on his toes about not being lazy and actually explaining himself.

"-I am very serious about you killing them and their descendants if they ever think about making one of those devices." he sighs and Zaraki nods, waving a hand for him to continue. "-So I picked the Shinigami most invested in a peaceful future to make sure my orders would be carried out."

Zaraki still looks confused.

"You're my only captain with children, Zaraki." Yamamoto explains. "I know you only give half a rat's ass about the court guard, but I've seen what you'll do for Yachiru."

Zaraki nods understanding now, and a few more paces of silence pass between them.

"...Thank you, Sir." Zaraki mutters, bowing his head and using the honorific with genuine intent for the first time since Yamamoto had known him. "-For understanding."

"Thank you, Captain Zaraki." Yamamoto nodded slightly, stopping before the gate to the 11th. "-For understanding as well."

"-Now get back to Captain Unohana before she schedules some sort of blood test of a thousand needles for me!" Yamamoto grunted, prodding at Zaraki with his cane, and the man didn't need to be told twice.

[fanfic-obsessed]

How Old?!?!?!

Remember Folks, disregard any canon that contradicts this.

Timothy Wayne Drake disappeared when he was 16. He was taken captive in Eastern Europe at a WE event. A magical shield cut off all electronic communication, sight, and sound of the building for 6 minutes. According to every Super consulted, Tim’s heartbeat vanished at that time, and never reappeared. No facial recognition ever showed him again. No magical spell could find him, or his remains. Eight years later he is presumed dead by most of those who knew him, though his family still searches frantically for their Baby Bird. It is only the fact that they knew how much he loved Gotham, that he would want the city protected, that they did not let their obsession with finding him take them over. 

According to his file, Neal Caffery has been operating since he was 18. There are no records prior to that. By the numbers he is now 34, and had been working as a CI for the feds for 2 years.  He has never admitted to anyone that his earliest memories are six years ago, though Peter, El, and Moz have all figured it out.  But his abilities, muscle memory, and knowledge seem to support what's in his file.  That must mean something, right?

It was not a White Collar case, not really. Though there were just enough white collar elements to justify assigning it to Agent Burke and his team, this really was an Organized Crime case. However it was leading to Gotham, and no one wanted to go to Gotham. 

So Agent Burke, his two junior agents, and his CI were bundled into a SUV and told to report to Gotham PD to coordinate the case.  Upon arriving at the main precinct and getting out of the car; Peter, Diana and Jones all get strange looks from the locals on the street, though they do not know it, it is clear they are outsiders. 

However Neal gets out with a strange look on his face, “Why does the air taste..”

“Pink?” One the pedestrian answers, suspicion washing away.

“Yes” Neal exclaimed, then paused, “That’s weird, right? I feel like that’s weird”

The pedestrian gave a half shrug, “Ivy and Scarecrow double booked downtown a few weeks ago. Made things super awkward for anyone not vaccinated against both, but the vaccines made the air taste pink for some reason. The news said that the unvaccinated shouldn’t see effects any longer and for the vaccinated the effect would be gone in two more weeks”

Then the pedestrian left and Neal, entirely unconsciously, murmured about wondering if Ivy and Harley were fighting. When Peter tried to get more information about Neal having been in Gotham as they walked into the Precinct, Neal made a joke to cover the fact that he has no idea when or where he got the vaccines/immunities to Poison Ivy’s pollen or Scarecrow's Fear Gas.  

They manage to make it to the main bullpen without incident, by virtue of the fact anyone who actually looks up from what they were doing focuses on Peter, as lead agent.  When they get to the Bullpen, someone notices Neal and the entire room goes dead silent. Commissioner Gordon comes charging out, eyes wild and clearly on the phone with someone (Oracle, who happened to see Neal/Tim on camera-it is important to note that the group who took Tim made it so that any facial recognition program that would run either face would skip the match between Tim and Neal, but a person looking through a camera is different) saying things like “Holy Shit” and “Yes I see him, too”. 

The White Collar team, including Neal, is so confused as Commissioner Gordon ushers them to his office and closes the door (Oracle has her fathers office bugged with better cameras and wired for sound, also they do not know how much cover they have already broken for Tim-they do not want to make things worse instead of better). 

Commissioner Gordon calls Neal Tim, and Neal/Tim seizes for a moment like he was hit with electricity and says, in a deadened tone, “That name cannot be used as an Alias” then slumps like he is going to fall over. Peter and Jones manage to catch him and get him into a chair that Commissioner Gordon hurriedly pulls over.  The confusion that the White Collar team is exhibiting, plus questions like “What was that?” and “What did you do to Neal?” and “What did you call him?” do convince commissioner Gordon that these, at least, were not the people that took Tim.  It takes a few minutes for Tim/Neal to come to.  A few careful call and response questions tells Commissioner Gordon that the man with Tim’s face (and scars, from what he can see) does not remember anything.  These same questions were also clearly making the White Collar team, particularly Peter, as protective as they were making Neal/Tim confused and more than a little anxious.

Then Dick Grayson burst into the room, looking like he might have run all the way from Bludhaven.  He stopped dead at seeing Neal, whispered ‘Baby Bird?’ then lunged to pull Neal into a tight hug. Neal may have had no memories of being Tim, but his muscle memory remembered Dick’s hugs. That he was safe while Dick was hugging him, Neal could not help but relax into the hold. 

Dick start talking about getting Neal to Leslie both to make sure he's not hurting and to verify his identity (sounding apologetic but, no matter if Dick is sure this is Tim, they have to verify it), that ‘B’ is out of contact right now (on a JL mission off planet, the watchtower is preparing to extract him, but it will take a few hours-the JLD is also preparing in case they are needed) but should be back soon. He talks about how Alfred will be waiting outside for them, but ‘everyone else’ is waiting so they don’t overwhelm him (read clustered, and pacing, on buildings around Leslie’s clinic).  

Neal brings up, still wrapped in Dicks arms, that he might not be who they think he is. Dick agrees but also says that he isn’t, it is a case of mistaken identity and it is clear that Neal is not trying to trick them. Dick then says if it is Mistaken identity, Dick will apologize for the forcible cuddling and be grateful that, even if they don’t actually find him, he got a chance to hug his little brother one last time (Every single member of the White Collar Team, Neal very much included, is a little uncomfortable with this sentiment). 

At Peter’s awkward insistence (these people clearly miss whoever they think Neal is, and he doesn’t know if they would think about Neal’s criminal activities) the White collar team accompanies Neal, still clutched to Dick’s side, to a car waiting with Alfed right next to it, who is clearly having an emotional reaction to seeing Neal/Tim again.  Over the course of the car ride to Leslie’s clinic, Dick asks questions about who Neal is now (and reacts weirdly well to the whole Conman/FBI CI thing). Towards the end, Jones hesitantly asks why Dick is trying to get to know Neal now, wouldn’t it make more sense to wait until they were sure who Neal was. 

Dick laughs and goes 1.) Even if Neal is not his long lost brother, several of his siblings are going to want to befriend him (if nothing else than being a world class master art forger would get Damian’s attention, and everyone else would 100% be encouraging the friendship to give Damian more non violent friends) and 2.) Baby Bird is notorious for trying to mold himself into who he thinks other people want him to be. Right now he does not know enough about Dick to try and tailor his answers, plus is likely convincing himself that this is a case of mistaken identity. Thus Dick is collecting information for when Baby Bird inevitably tries to fit himself into whatever weird mold he thinks their family will want him to fit.  

Neal, still clutched to Dick’s side, splutters as the White Collar team cannot help but laugh at him. Also this somewhat convinces Peter that this might not be a case of mistaken identity after all.  

They get to Leslie’s Clinic. She runs through all the tests (Genetic and comparing previous x-rays, signs of artificial aging-for cloning, signs of the specific type of molecules that means time or dimension travel, brain scans, the few hormone tests that can detect magic-you can’t tell me that Bruce Wayne and/or Tim Drake, before he vanished, were not told at some point that there is no way to detect magic by scientific means and took it as a personal challenge). By every measure that she is able to test, Neal Caffrey is the missing Tim Drake.  She is also able to tell that his memory loss was likely caused by significant and repeated electrocution reinforced by some kind of magic, but cannot tell what or if it is still active, though given Tim’s reaction to his birth name (which happened twice more during the tests) and the fact that the Supers were never able to find his heartbeat,it is likely. 

By this time, Batman has now been returned to the watchtower and is being told of Tims return.

Dick tells Neal outright that their entire family’s love languages are stalking and poor boundaries (both maintaining and respecting). Dick also makes it clear that, while the Batfam is ecstatic that Neal/Tim is alive and want him in their lives, Neal is not required to attempt to get his memories back or have anything to do with them if he does not want (All of their therapists, the family could not go to just one, had worked specifically with them on how to deal with a Tim that has made a new life, how to accept that he is safe and happy but not with them-which is a realistic assumption after 8 years), but that likely Neal would be putting up with some limited stalking for the rest of his life (Look, the best we are going to get from the Batfamily is stalking from the shadows if Neal doesn’t want to interact with them-Also Oracle has already hacked the FBI for all of Neals records and files, and is the middle of arranging for the White Collar office to be bugged with her personal cameras/microphones). Dick also asks that the White Collar team come back to the Manor and to at least let the Justice League Dark look Neal over to make sure that there is nothing that is going on that will hurt him. 

Now, to be clear, Neal is more than happy to at least meet the rest of the Batfam.  Yes, he has a good life now, people he loves and who love him. But that is a relatively new development and there are a lot of blanks in his past. I mean at this point Neal still thinks he is 34 (as opposed to 24), and only remembers the last six years. They have not even gone far enough into the explanations to realize that there is a 2 year gap between when Tim was taken and Neal's earliest memories.  Also, while Neal does not quite have the same level of abandonment issues as Tim did, there is something about how visibly happy Dick is to see him that soothing something deep inside (Because he has six years worth of memories, and for most of them he did not have anyone who would have noticed if he had vanished).

They get back to manor just in time for Bruce to come charging into the foyer, still in the batman suit but with his cowl down. Bruce also looks like he might have ran from wherever he was. He had at least absorbed enough of what he was told about Neal to not call him Tim, and pulled Neal into a hug.  This also means there is a brief interlude while the White Collar team gets the ‘Bruce Wayne is Batman, we’re trusting you with this’ revelation (And absolutely everyone is going to be making fun of Bruce ‘Paranoia’ Wayne being the person who accidentally let the secret slip).

By the time they reach the main sitting room, the rest of the family has made it back to the manor (Barbara, Jason, Cass, Steph, Damian, Duke) each waiting on their own chance to hug their lost member.   Neal blue screens a bit at Jason (who is both very pretty and very sarcastic, which is Neal's type).  Through the discussions that follow there are at least two arguments between batfam members about who gets to have Neal to sit with them.

Neal decides that he will meet with someone from JLD to see about what magic might still be affecting him and regaining his lost memories. He and the White Collar team do decline staying at the manor and go back to the hotel rooms that the FBI rented for them (never realizing that Oracle upgraded them as soon as she realized who Neal was) as they still have a job to do. It is at this point that  Neal starts whining to the others, much to their amusement (also to the amusement of Steph and Cass, who were hiding on the balcony-there is no way there will not be at least one bat/bird hiding in the shadows around Neal for a bit), about his new, hot brother Jason.  Peter calls El, just so Neal can have his crisis with her instead of him (Never mind that being siblings is not as big a deal as Neal thinks it is).

Now Gotham, and its people, have a reputation at the FBI for being actually impossible to work with.  Even regular citizens stonewall so effectively that most teams simply give up. They simply do not like outsiders, and Gothamites can tell if someone grew up in Gotham or not, even if the person in question does not realize it (there are unconscious ways of moving if you have lived in Gotham for a certain amount of time). This is what the White Collar team expects to go against, what they are bracing for, no matter who Neal might or might not have been.  To their surprise this is not what they get. Yes, most people still peer suspiciously at Peter, Jones, and Diana at first, but even that settles down quickly (Some of it is Neal/Tim, being from Gotham, clearly trusting Peter and co gets them some good will; some is them not being sanctimonious about gotham; the rest is the batfam being vocal about liking these FBI agents-for Neal/Tim related reasons).  They solve the case, which branched from White collar into one of the Mob Families (at least two of the traffickers got the choice to talk to the FBI team, or deal with The Red Hood-Red Hood plays it off as using the FBI to take a shot at that family’s territory and being personally interested in Neal Caffrey).

Before they leave Gotham, Neal does meet up with a few members of the JLD who are able to find and remove the spells that prevent Neal/Tim from being found by the Supers and the Spell keeping him from being addressed as Tim. His missing memories were not fully caused by magic (There was a lot of damage caused by electricity-no one took that news well), but the magic was preventing some of his recall. With the spells off, it is inferred that some or all of Tim’s memories may come back in time. 

The White Collar team leaves Gotham with new contacts in their phones and also the bomb that Neal Caffery was a full decade younger than he thought he was (They do eventually figure out that Neal/Tim never actually committed the crimes in his file-not that the crimes were never committed but that Neal/Tim was basically went straight from where ever he was being held to being captured for ‘Neal Caffery’s’ crimes).  Peter later finds a much more complete medical record for Tim Wayne Drake in his home, with an ominous note to keep this file out of the FBI records, it is for personal reference only. They also leave with the decision to keep Neal’s identity a secret (As no one knows who the ones who took them are, or what the end goal is), telling only Hughes, El and Moz. By the time the WC crew reaches New York, the Bats already have bugs/cameras in the FBI building, Neal’s apartment, and Peter’s house.  They have also put trackers in every single pair of Neal’s shoes. There is also a schedule for who gets to stalk/hang out with Neal when.  

As far as the rest of the FBI was concerned, White Collar gets a lot of strange new contacts for cases.  Also they seem to have made an impression on the Justice League, as they become the point of contact between the Justice League and the FBI, by request of the League.  Occasionally hardened criminals walk into the FBI and ask to confess their crimes specifically to Agent Burke and his team. And Apparently their CI knows the Red Hood, somehow (in that the Red Hood sometimes showed up at their crime scene to flirt outrageously with the CI, the first few times the CI got really flustered but after that he started to flirt back). 

Eventually Neal/Tim does begin to remember his past, oddly enough the trigger was a spleen in a jar that was left on his desk in the White Collar Office (Ra’s Al Ghul was…pleased that Tim was not dead and displeased with the Organization the abducted him and  tried to fry Tim’s brain).

[assortedvillainvault]

Me, sending Thalassa another ask after a long tumblr absence? It's more likely than you think ;)

My request this time is more Shen x Reader...but through the Henchwolves' POV

Gimme that minion gossip 😆

It's benn a Goddamn Minute since I wrote anything for the murderbird, please accept this humble offering my friend! This is set loosely within Shen's hostile takeover of his family's palace, just pretend it's taking a few months longer for Po and the Furious Five to arrive.

Lord Shen x Reader (Henchwolves POV)

Sooo...the boss’s in looovvveee…

Ok well it’s more like Shen is speed-cycling through every emotion under the sun, like some kind of cursed knife throwing merry-go-round.

From an outside perspective that part is no different to how he normally is, really, potato tomato.

But ever since YOU entered the picture, he’s been swinging between regality and rage like it’s going out of fashion.

This would normally be time for the wolves to about-face and shamelessly hide behind the hired muscle of the rhino and gorilla guards, but between your bemused reactions and the Soothsayers amused snorts they have front row seats to China’s cheesiest love story and they’re not missing ANY of the drama.

Don’t forget, the wolves have followed Shen for nearly two decades by now – they know him. His ins and outs, his twitches and grandiose gestures. The way his right eyelid twitches when he can’t feel the knives in his sleeves.

They’re not familiar with the way his elegant steps stumble when you surprise him. Or how he loses his train of thought and sputters when you question his judgement. Or how he seems to fight the noble training of several years to fidget with his robes before posing just so to meet with you.

Guards from both the throne room and the gardens noticed his tail sweeping and twitching when talking to you, and in their experience, Shen’s tail is a dead giveaway for his flintstrike temper and at the time they were 99% certain he was about to stick a knife in your back and call it a day…

...until he presented you with a custom ordered gift and his overwrought nerves had his tail nearly leap into it’s classic fan as he awkwardly swallowed a squawk into a cough, trying to pretend this was a spur of the moment thing rather something he'd agonized over in private for five days.

At guard change they all but barged into the guardroom mess, hollering and sniggering.

“Shen’s PRESENTING!”

Chaos ensues. Bets are taken, at least one table is broken. One poor bastard ends up tossed from a fifth story window. He's probably fine.

It’s all boss wolf can do not to roll his eyes.

In contrast to the rest of the henchman – he operates much closer to Shen in a day to day capacity. So HE’s the poor bugger having to endure Shen’s erratic mumbling as the neurotic bird pores over battle plans, supply chains, letters and negotiations from nobility and powerful individuals to bribe. All that, he can deal with.

...What he can’t deal with is the way Shen’s eyes will glaze over mid mumble and suddenly he’s got an earful of spoiled royal lamenting how 50 reams of china’s finest silks isn’t even close enough to a satisfactory nest and How is he supposed to curry your favour if you only have 25 colours to choose from???

Fucking. BIRDS and their obsession with shiny shit.

Meanwhile, the Soothsayer is very much enjoying watching Shen work himself into a knot over whether or not he should ask her for a love life prediction.

It’s just a waiting game before he cracks. And she’s more than happy to trip him up and poke fun in the meantime, catching your eye from the background and winking as she eats his sashes and pulls fake prophesies out of her ass.

(She approves of you, don’t worry, and she lowkey is happy for Shen to have found someone as wonderful as you, but also: you deserve better and her lingering fondness for Shen as his former nanny doesn’t blind her to that.)

Hope you enjoyed these headcannons friend!

[rookiesbookies]

Monster AU

Thank you to @shotmrmiller for helping me idea generate for this

Hc under the cut for 141+ Konig, Krueger, Alex Keller, and Keegan

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

General background for the AU:

When the blood of monsters was first found at ancient sites, the first thought the humans was: Can we bring them back. And when they couldnt, the second thought was: can we make ‘hybrid’ humans with the blood and will it give them special shit?

Long story short? It did. And so the race for the best and most monster/human soldiers was born

Some side effects were wanted. The speed, strength, the aggression, the dexterity.

Some side effects weren’t. Like the voices in the soldiers heads, the loss of life from incapability between a monster and a human, and the ruts, heat cycles, & craving to breed.

So the government hires what they call Operation: Darlings - a group dedicated to their monster infected lovers to keep them docile and content no matter what when they’re on base. Each given a year's supply of: military grade birth control, spermicidal lube, and condoms and one goal - be a monster's mate.

When wind of this got to other military companies, they did basically the exact same thing.

Price

Griffin. His beard now looks like furr now and less like hair. His muscles which were once covered in thin layers of fat, are now bare. The fat melted away. His wrinkles are now much lighter. His has more energy and is much less motion sick.

His eyes now have a predatory gaze. His nails are sharper like claws, and he’s much faster and more agile. His reflexes were much sharper.

With his darling he has the urge to scent her all the time. He loves nothing more than her warming his cock, his tight balls sitting on some chair as he rubs her hips while filling out paperwork. Cooing at how well she takes his fat cock.

His room is now full of pillows and blankets and baby proofy, he cant have his lionese accidentally getting hurt? Even if its just small bumps.

Soap

Phoenix. He now runs hot as an oven, everyone swears his skin glows, and he has this bad habit of insisting he needs random sticks. Every time he dies his injuries and infection turn to dust and fade off into the wind minutes to hours after and he walks away.

His nails are now just a bit more tough like talons and if he drinks alcohol or gas he can breathe fire.

He has this craving to sit in high place too, always has to have almost a perch to sit on above everyone.

When he gets his darling he has this urge to preen all the clothes she’s wearing off her like they’re dirt in her feathers. He makes little clicking noises at her and will fluff out his mohawk to get her attention, almost dying it red and orange and other bright colors because the phoenix voice demanded they had to be flamboyant and bright to truly keep a mate. Loves to rub his nose against her like a bird rubs its beak on things it loves, nuzzling into her especially if she’s nude.

He also craves nuts and seeds as a snack.

Ghost

Barghest. A bug black bad omen of death. Also has a skull face in some depictions. A big fuzzy stain in Yorkshire mythos. Simon immediately noticed how his hair on his head stayed its blond color but the rest of it (pubes, chest hair, happy trail) turned thicker and black as the night. In the dark he can see much better. He’s less sensitive to cold. And he craves raw meat.

For other physical differences he notices how his cock swells differently. His whole body leaned and slimmer. He runs faster, and endurance is significantly better.

He growls deep in his chest and uncontrollably when people try to touch his stuff. When he’s around his team he lets out a purr similar to that of a rottweiler.

He also notices he finds it harder to stay away during the day, as he prefers now to exist at night.

Gaz

Aswang. His teeth are now much sharper. His eyes now randomly bleed but not in a medical issue. His skin mow ashier than it normally would have been but that's fine. He’s more worried about the blood. His tongue is now long and snake-like, too long for his mouth and flat.

His body is leaner than before. Shoulders becoming broader. And his ears are slightly pointed. He’s also off put but his fingers got longer and his hands got stronger.

He hates how it’s voice hisses and whispers so loudly in the back of his mind. Never quiet.

Konig

Cthulhu. Of all his comrades who were chosen, he had some of the most physical change. Tendrils sprouted from his spine, his skin turned cold and the texture closer to a shark. His teeth all got a bit sharper, and his eyes became slightly better suited for seeing in the night. The worse his anxiety got the more tendrils littered his face and wings threatened to sprout from his back. The voice made the madness grow in his head, loud and ringing. His body was an impermeable surface. His fingers had grown a bit longer, more claw like. His voice got even more booming and he was always cold.

When he got his mate, his skin warmed. The voice of the monster that infected him calmed for the first few days. She didn't mind the odd texture of his skin or the tendrils that littered his body. She let her warmth seep through his body.

Krueger

Amarok. As seen in his tattoo on his back. He notices small things like thicker and darker hair on his body and the need to spend more time alone.

He notices his body get meatier, the muscles taking up more space. His hair is growing longer than he’d like, and much faster. He’s much stronger and much more durable, the usual overwhelming stain of the butt of a gun to the face now just a mild sting.

He growls from his throat when he is annoyed now, and is very off put by it because he never realizes when its happening. He has also grown a bit, not taller than Konig still but he is a least an inch and a half taller than he was. His arms now much wider and beefier, with a soft yet flattering layer on top.

He can now hear much better and he doesnt know if he likes it. If someone is fucking on base he can hear it all so now he has to constantly wear his shooting range headphones to hear how he did before the change.

Keegan

Minotaur. His body now gets too hot when under armor. He craves to suckle a tit like a calf and hide in darkness. His eyes are not adjusted well to the lights at all, he now has to constantly wear sunglasses. His nose is now a bit wet and leathery. His body now more easily builds muscle and the skin of his feet and hands thicker. His nails are stronger, like the human equivalent of hooves he guesses.

His breathing is now heavier, his body much heavier. He now stalks around instead of a natural walk. He craves meat, the monster wants him to consume human flesh but Keegan is satisfied with a steak.

Alex Keller

Hydra. He can grow back any lost limps and heal quickly. Only limp he cant grow back is the leg he already lost because he lost it pre-infection. Physically it changed very little, his eyes turn to slits in bright lights instead of small dots, he occasionally gets scales if his skin is extra dry, and he now had crazy sharp fangs for canines but not much changes.

He also hisses at threats and keeps building nests in dark places (his room with the lights off) with stolen blankets and pillows, pulling women into his room to show them hoping they compliment it as a sign of agreeing to mate.

When he gets his darling the little hydra voice in his head goes wild. She compliments the nest, doesn’t mind his painful love bites to stake claim, and most importantly doesn’t mind staying in the nest until the nest smells like her and she smells like him.

Also he has two dicks (human ones, not snakes), one on top of the other, upper one is slightly smaller.

[kpop---scenarios]

Hidden Lies (1)

Pairing: Unknown x Reader

Warning: Violence, Crime, Almost Assault

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: This is a remake of Poisonous Lies. Some parts may be familiar, and that would be why. I hope you enjoy!! Let me know who you think she'll connect more with!

This morning you woke up, listening to the sounds of birds chirping, the sun shining through your window, and feeling like it was going to be a great day. 

“YN.” Your mom yells. It was too early and you were trying to wake up peacefully. “Y/N!” She calls out again, but this time it's more of a screech. 

You groan loudly, folding your pillow over your ears, wanting to enjoy a little bit of time without her yelling at you. The sound of her shrieking voice was coming closer every second, until it was practically right in your ear. 

Your eyes are still closed as you feel your blanket being ripped off your body, your mom cursing at you. 

“Wake the fuck up!” She yells. “Don't you hear me yelling for you? I have shit to do, I cannot keep waking you up in the mornings! damn, you're going to make us both late” 

You were 22 years old and you still live with your mother. This life you had was sad, although it was your fault. This technically was your choice. You had decided to drop out of school and go home to help your mom out after your dad was sentenced to 10 years in prison for a lengthy list of crimes, although well it wasn't his fault, it also was at the same time. 

Your father had lost his job, and instead of telling your mother and them trying to figure it out, he went and got a loan from some people involved in crime that he most definitely should have not gone to. He didn't think about the fact that he would have had to pay that money back, plus interest. And when the time came for them to collect he didn't have it. So he was recruited for odd jobs until he had paid everything back, he didn't get very far though. His last job ended up being a sting operation and he was charged with trafficking drugs, intent to sell, attempted kidnapping, attempted human trafficking and a few other things. He wouldn't tell them why he did it, he didn't want things to get any worse, even though you weren't sure if they could or not. It wasn't his finest moment, he was trying to help his family even if it was the worst way possible. He was a good man and a good dad. Your father was a man who would do anything for his family, especially to protect them, and that’s exactly why he did what he did and now he was suffering the consequences of his own actions. 

“I swear to god, YN.” Your mom yells as she grabs your arm, trying to pull you out of bed. “If you don't get your ass up in the next 30 seconds, I'm going to lose my mind! Your train leaves in 45 minutes and if you dont get ready and leave in 10 minutes then you're not going to be able to see your dad.” She sighs. “It’s his birthday, remember.”

Shit. You quickly bolt up in bed, scrambling to get out of your bed. You were rushing around your room grabbing whatever looked the cleanest on your floor before heading to your bathroom, slamming the door in the process. 

Your mom sighs loudly before she leaves your room so you can rush around and get ready. You knew it was hard for her, not having your dad around, and you were sometimes difficult but you were trying. You felt guilty, especially since she wasn't able to go on the visit today, her shitty boss wouldn't let her have the time off. It had only been a year since he’d been locked up and you, mom and your brother had faced some very hard times. The three of you have been barely surviving paying the bills, mortgage, car, gas, groceries as well as trying to pay back your dad's loan in cash, rather than jobs similar to what your dad did.

Your mom was working 2 jobs, you and your brother both working full time, and all your money went towards everything needing to be paid, rarely leaving you much of anything left over but the three of you made it work, you always figured it out. You would do whatever you needed to do. 

You're running down the stairs, trying to put your hair into a semi decent bun and forfeiting any makeup. 

“You ready?” Your mom asks, car keys in her hand. 

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag.” you breathe. You run into the kitchen, snatching your purse from the counter before you head back to the front door that's left wide open. You roll your eyes heading out the door, closing it behind you before sliding into the passenger seat of the car the three of you shared. 

Your mom doesn't say a word to you on the ride to the train station. You hold your train ticket in your hand as she pulls in front of the station. “Please tell him happy birthday from me and that I love him.” she whispers as you're getting out of the car. 

You give her a half smile. “I will mom.” You say, getting out of the car and closing the door. It doesn't take you long to navigate your way through the station, you’ve been making this trip a few times a month. You tried to see him as much as you could but between work, work and work, you never had a ton of time. You picked a seat on the train, setting your bag down in the seat beside you. You just made it on time, seconds later you were on your way and you couldn't wait to see your dad. 

You stood in line, waiting to have your bag checked and to go through the x-ray machine. When that was all clear you headed to the front desk, showing your ID and filling out paperwork before you could even go into the room and wait for him. You sit down, your stomach is twisting with nerves. You weren't sure why, this was like any other visit you had been on. 

“LN, YN.” You hear. “You can head in now.” the guard finishes, pointing towards a visitation room. The door buzzes open and you see your dad immediately, sitting in the back, in the middle of the room. His fingers were locked together with his head down. It felt like it had been forever since you had last seen him. “Dad.” you sniffle and his head shoots up, a smile spreads across his face so quickly as he stands up from his chair. You walk towards him, his arms are wide open, waiting to embrace you. You crash into his chest, wrapping your arms around him as he does you, holding you tightly. You missed his hugs, and the safeness you felt from him. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt safe.

You both let go, tears brimming in your eyes as you both sit down across from each other. 

“Happy birthday dad.” you smile. He reaches out to grab your hand, whispering a small thank you while his head hangs low. “Mom also wishes you a happy birthday, and she says that she loves you.” You tell him, but you knew he already knew that. 

“I know,” he smiles. “I'm assuming that she had to work today?” he asks. 

You nod your head. 

“She tried to get the time off but you know Dave, he’s a dick and wouldn't even let her have the morning off.” you tell him.

But again, you knew he already knew that. Dave and your dad had been friends for years, but after your dad was sentenced the man acted as if he never knew him and was never friends with him. Your eyes wander around the room, as if anything would be different since the last time you were here. Your dad begins telling you a story, something funny that had happened the other day. You were listening, but you couldn't help but let your eyes wander.

You looked out into the common room, as you were scanning the room, your eyes landed on someone. A man, a very handsome dark haired, angry looking man staring directly at you. You tried to look away from him, but it's like you were locked in with him. He was so captivating you honestly didn't even want to look away, but you do, not before he smiles at you slightly, giving you a small wink. 

You’re brought out of your trance by your dad clearing his throat before continuing on with his story. You catch the end of it, laughing along with him even though you didn't really hear the rest of it. “Tell me about everything. What’s going on with you? How is your brother?” he asks. Before you can answer the lights of the prison flicker, the alarm blares as the red siren lights up the room on beat with the alarms. 

“What’s happening?” you yell over the loud sounds. You were feeling a little panicked but before your dad could say anything you both hear yelling. You looked at the commotion in the common room, which was only separated from the visiting room by one large metal door. You glanced around, seeing the other visitors watching what was happening but no one was reacting to anything. 

“I'm sure the guards will get it sorted, fights break out all the time. No need to worry.” Your dad tells you, trying to reassure you. 

You couldn't help but worry. You watched as more and more fights were beginning to break out between prisoners, prisoners and guards. You watched in horror, as the prisoners seemingly took the guards down more easily then they should have been able too. Your eyes were darting to every window that you could see and watched guard after guard collapse, inmates grabbing the guns or batons, a cluster of inmates slamming guards into the windows, shaking what is supposed to be bullet proof glass. 

Seconds later a fight in the visiting room breaks out after an inmate bashes a guard's head against the table. You're panicking now, other visitors are screaming, leaving their tables trying to escape, some pounding on the door, begging the guards to let them out.

The inmates from the common room begin trying to shoot the windows, or trying to pry open the doors into the visiting room. 

The doors were buzzed open letting the guards from the front now rush in from one side to try and calm the situation but instead they let the inmates rush through the other doors into the room where you and your dad were. He had taken you to the corner of the room, standing in front of you to protect you. You peek out from behind him, the two of you watching in horror as blood and tears are spilled, the cries and pleas from visitors are yelled out as the inmates attack anyone in their way, including those who were just trying to visit their loved ones. 

Your heart is pounding so loud, you can hear it in your ears. You feel weak, light headed. Your adrenaline hasn't kicked in yet. Your stomach is churning at all of the blood. Your father grabs your hand pulling you with him through another open door, and hopefully to safety. As soon as the two of you make it into another room, you're confronted by three large men. 

“Look.” Your dad begins. “We don't want any trouble. I'm just trying to keep my daughter safe.”

The man in front smiles, but even his smile is terrifying. 

“What a good dad you are. But don't worry.” He says. “We'll take her from here. I'll personally keep her safe.” He finishes, licking his lips. 

“No thank you.” your dad says. “We're just going to go.” You grip onto your dads orange jumpsuit. 

“Dad.” You whisper. He can hear the fear in your voice. 

He runs forward, punching the man, pushing him into the two men behind him. “Run YN! Run!” He screams as the men grab him, taking him elsewhere. You try to run for the door but you're grabbed, pulled back and pushed against the wall. The man who had been talking to your father stood inches from your face. You could see the evil in his eyes as he eyed you up. You can feel his breath on your neck as he moves closer towards you.

You look both ways, trying to find your way to escape. There's only one other door besides the one you came through and you're pretty sure it's locked. Fear jolts through your body as you try and think of anything you could possibly say or do to get yourself out of this situation but you know that there is nothing you can do, except try and fight. 

“Get away from me!” you yell, putting your hands on his chest and pushing as hard as you can. 

"Don't fucking do that.” He snaps, shoving you against the wall. He raises his hand as he gets closer to you, his finger tracing your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears rolling down your cheeks and you let out a scream, as loud as you could. You switched between yelling "help me." And screaming, hoping someone would come for you. 

The man slaps his hand over your mouth, angrily. "Why would you do that, don't you like me?" He asks. "It's been a long fucking time since we've been this close to a woman." He chuckles. You can feel his body pressing against you. You try to focus on anything else, but all you can hear is the sound of him breathing and the screams and cries of the ones caught in the riot. 

Just as you were about to give up, you feel a release. You can no longer feel his body pressing against you, you can hear yelling much closer. You open your eyes and see a dark haired man, and a familiar other dark haired man pulling the men away from you. Within seconds the man who wanted to attack you was down on the floor, and the two men who saved you grabbed your hands, pulling you out of the room and away from the chaos. 

Where was your dad? Was he okay? 

The three of you ran down a hallway, the alarms are still blaring, you can just barely hear police sirens from outside. 

The two men had no idea where to go, everywhere you looked there was violence, inmates with weapons and minimal guards that were alive. 

"Hey!" You hear from down the hall. You all turn around and see the man that had you pinned against the wall. Anger suddenly fuels you, wondering where your dad was. 

“What did you do to my dad!?” You scream. The man stops walking, a grin spreads across his face. “Don't worry, he's just fine. Now you two.” He says, pointing to the two men who were still holding onto you. “You don't get to take what's not yours.” He frowns. “I want her back.” He yells down the hall. The two men who had taken your father appear behind him. 

“Fuck.” One says. they turn around, pulling you in a different direction. You were turning corner after corner until one of them found an unlocked door. He opens it, quickly pulling you inside before slamming it shut. Your body is shaking, you can't help but sob. You never in a million years expected today to turn out how it has. 

Both the men quickly jump into action, grabbing whatever heavy pieces of furniture they can find to shove against the door. You watch them, still feeling just pure shock. 

"I'm sorry." You whisper. You weren't even entirely sure what you were sorry about but it felt appropriate in the moment. 

They both stop covering the door, staring at you. “Sorry for what?” One asks. 

“I.. I'm not sure. But you're in this mess now because of me.” You sigh. 

“We're in this because we didn't want to see an innocent woman get taken advantage of by some fucked up men. You didn't start it.” He says. 

“What's your name?” The other asks. 

"Y/N." You sniffle. 

“I’m Wooyoung, and this is San.” 

“Nice to meet you both. And thank you. I truly don't know what would have happened if you guys didn't save me.” 

“It's nothing.” San says, giving you a half smile. He could not stop staring at you, just like when you were in the visiting room with your dad and he had caught your eye. 

Before you could say anything back, the knob to the door started to shake. There's pounding at the door, and that's when you hear it. 

“Y/N.” your dad calls. “Y/N please let me in. They're coming.” He cries. “Please.” 

You run to the door, trying your best to move everything they had put against the door. 

“Y/N stop.” Wooyoung yells, trying to pull you away. 

“Please!” You cry. “Please help me. That's my dad, we need to let him in.” 

San and Wooyoung loom at each other. They both know this is a bad idea but knew that there would be no chance of you letting up. 

“Whatever happens?” San says. Wooyoung nods his head. 

“Whatever happens.” 

The two men help you pull the large filing cabinet, desk and other heavy things away from the door. You unlock the deadbolt, ripping the door open, the smile on your face falling immediately. 

“I'm sorry Y/N. I'm so sorry.” He cries. He's pushed inside the room by the three men from before. He trips, falling to the floor with a thud. You wanted to go to him but the man has a gun now and it's pointed directly at you. 

“You two aren't very good at hiding.” He chuckles. 

“Eric, you don't have to do this.” Wooyoung says, his hands up as he inches towards you. 

“Fuck you, Woo. You'd be the fucking same if you were locked in the hole for months at a time.” Eric snaps. “And now I have a chance for something real and you two are trying to ruin it for me.” 

“I'm telling you not to fucking do this.” San snaps. He can see Eric eyeing you up, your dad laying on the floor, one of Eric's men's feet pinning him down. 

“You think I'm gonna listen to you?” Eric laughs. “Just enjoy the show.” He says, grabbing onto Your wrists. Wooyoung and San try to lurch forward but they're stopped by the other two, flashing their knives. Eric pushes you against the wall, pulling you back towards him. He pulls you to the ground, climbing on top of you, straddling you. The gun is still shoved in your face. You say nothing, tears just stream down your face. Your eyes dart in-between San and Wooyoung as you silently plead for one of them to do something. To help you. 

Eric rips open your shirt, exposing your bra. You look away, seeing Wooyoung and San nod towards each other. They both lunge for the men, knocking them down. Your dad scrambles to his feet taking over for San, as he runs for Eric, who was too in his own world with you to hear anything else. San tackles him, causing Eric to let go of the gun, it slides across the floor. Eric scrambles beneath San as he delivers hit after hit. 

“Everybody get on the fucking ground.” You hear. Smoke bombs thrown into the room. Guards in full tactical gear flood inside, guns at the ready. San gets off of Eric, all of them men laying on the floor. “Hands on your head.” They yell. 

You do as you're told. “We have a hostage located.” They go to you first, helping you up. You're coughing loudly as they guide you out of the room, into another one to be treated. They'd finally gotten everything settled down and started getting inmates back into their cells, or medical treatment. 

“You took a fucking hostage, the warden is deciding your punishment.” A guard snaps at Wooyoung and San as they escort them past the room you're in. You push the nurse away, running out of the room. 

“Wait!” You yell. “They didn't take me hostage. They saved me from him.” You say, pointing to Eric. “He tried to.. he tried to...” You cry. “They protected me from him and I'll forever be grateful.” you finish. You walk over to the two handcuffed men, wrapping your arms around both of them, until they're both escorted off. Both of them looking over their shoulders, giving you a smile and a wink. 

Once you were checked out by the nurse and cleared to go, you were led out to the front where your mom was waiting for you. You sobbed into her shoulder as she hugged you tightly, apologizing to you profusely. She grabbed your hand, pulling you out to the car. you look back at the prison as she drives away, silently thanking Wooyoung and San for saving you. You'd have to find some way to properly thank them sometime. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Your mom asks. 

“Dad and I were talking when fights broke out. Inmates were attacking guards and other inmates.” You sigh. “They opened the doors to the visitation room to let guards in but inmates rushed in.. one gut I guess had his sights set on me.” 

“Dad protected you right?” Your mom asks. 

“He tried. But there were 3 of them and one of him.. they took him away. And I was alone.” You look over at your mom, she has tears in her eyes as she listens to you. “But then two men rushed in and grabbed me, helped me escape. Took me to a room and barricaded the door.” 

“They didn't hurt you did they?” She whispers. 

“No mom, they didn't. Dad started banging on the door.. they helped me move everything and open the door but the bad guy was there with him, they pushed him in.. the guy tried to.. r..” you pause. Your mom looks horrified. “He didn't. Wooyoung and San tackled him and then the guards came in.” 

“That was extremely lucky that they were there for you.” She sighs. “I'm so sorry baby.” 

“It's not your fault mom. You didn't know that was going to happen.” You say. “No one could have predicted that would happen.” 

The rest of the way you drive home in silence. You really want to just go to bed. Luckily you didn't have to work today so you could do just that. As you walked in the house, your brother Jaehyun rushed to you, hugging you tightly. “I'm so glad you're okay.” He says, squeezes you even harder. 

“I won't be if you squeeze me anymore, you're gonna suffocate me.” You half chuckle, half panic. He lets you go, patting your back before heading back to the living room. 

“Do you want some lunch?” Your mom asks. You raise an eyebrow. You had assumed she would have had to go back to work. 

“Don't you have to go back to work?” You ask. She looks at the ground. 

“Uh, well.. Dave said if I left to go to you, I wouldn't have a job. It's not worth it if he won't let me go to my child who was in the middle of a prison riot. Don't worry, I'll find something else.” She smiles. 

Fuck Dave. You went up to your room, crawled in your bed and quickly fell asleep. The day was exhausting and you were still shook a week later. It was the week after the riot, and you had been answering everyone's questions about what happened, what it was like the guys who saved you. It was the talk of the town still but you were tired of talking about it. You were ready to forget about it now, which is why you agreed so fast when your friend Hwasa asked you to go out that night. There was a newish club that was apparently very exclusive and the two of you wanted in. You got ready in a hurry, doing your makeup and your hair the best you could. You slipped on your favorite club dress as well as shoes and headed for the front door. 

“I'm going out, bye!” You yell, slamming the door behind you. You run down the driveway heading to Hwasa's car. 

The drive to the club is long. When you finally see it, you're mesmerized. It's bigger than you imagined, the bright sign outside reads Ateez. You were so excited. The line was extremely long, and as you walked up to the bouncer he shooed you to the back of the line. It seemed like you were never going to get in. 

After about twenty minutes, you noticed a man staring at you that was walking the line, he walked past you, before backing up to look at you again. 

“L/N Y/N?” He asks, eyeing you up and down. 

“Yes?” You respond, staring at the handsome man. 

“Come with me.” He says, motioning for you and Hwasa to follow him. You and Hwasa look at each other, she shrugs her shoulders, following the man and dragging you along behind. He stops at the bouncer, pointing to you. “L/N Y/N. Add her to the list. VIP.” He finishes, bringing you both inside. What the hell did you do to get this sort of treatment? 

The two of you walk behind the man, following him really without any questions. You pass what looks like the main bar, the dance floor and head up some stairs. The rope is removed from the hook, letting the three of you into the VIP area. 

“You can stay here if you'd like. Your drinks are all on the house, whatever you'd like. If you need anything, my name is Mingi, don't hesitate to ask.” He says. 

“Um, I do have a question.” You say, slightly raising your hand. “How? Um, why? And um what?” You say. 

Mingi chuckles. “You helped my brothers out, by not adding time to their sentences. They both could have gotten a lot more time after that riot. But they didn't, because of you. So from now on, if you are in trouble or need anything, you have 8 men who will happily help you out.” He says. “Well 6 for now, until San and Woo get out.” 

“All I did was tell the truth.” You say.

“There's a lot of women out there who would have lied, knowing who those two are.” He says. 

 “Also, You're related to them?” You ask, ignoring what he said before. You were too busy trying to stop your mouth from hanging down. 

“Well.. in a sense.” He laughs. “Enjoy your night.” He finishes before leaving the room. 

“What the hell!” Hwasa shouts, heading over to your private bar. She orders multiple drinks and shots for each of you to be brought to your table. As you two sit there, listening to the music the DJ is playing, drinking and just having a good time you see five men walk into the room. They stop, staring at you. As they walk over they introduce themselves. 

“Y/N.” One smiles. “I'm Seonghwa, this is Yeosang, Yunho, Jongho and Hongjoong.” He says pointing to each extremely handsome man. 

“Nice to meet you.” You smile back, waving at them all while hiccuping in the process. 

“Thank you for what you did for Woo and San.” Seonghwa says. 

“Like I said to Mingi, I was just telling the truth. I didn't want them to get into trouble for saving me.” You explain. 

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, don't hesitate to call.” He says, sliding you a piece of paper. Written down are 8 phone numbers for you. This was honestly fucking surreal. Who knew this could happen for simply telling the truth? 

The men walk away and Hwasa stares at you in disbelief. “I almost wish it was me that day.” She laughs. “Let's go dance!” She says, trying to pull you up. 

“Let me just tidy these glasses.” You slur, stacking all the cups and shot glasses to bring back to the bartender. He laughs as you place them on the bar, and thanks you through his chuckles. 

You let Hwasa drag you down the stairs to the dance floor, immediately sliding her hands all over your body as you dance closely. The two of you always preferred to dance together, but sometimes if you were into it you'd dance with men.  This time you were too into dancing with Hwasa, you didn't want any men to disturb you. You turned around, grinding your ass into her as you looked around the club. You glanced up at the balcony and saw six men leaning on the railing, all their eyes staring directly at you. Why did you feel like your life was going to get a lot more interesting? 

[starcrossedreaders]

Work Song

Authors Note: This is a part 2 for a request I did. Here is part one, I highly suggest you read it before you read part 2! Part 1. This one is going to be a long one. Thank you so much @aussiepineapple1st for all of the help for this second part, Enjoy!

Taglist: @umooooo74

Warnings: Surgery, Mentions of death, mentions of suicidal thoughts, sad coming home, angst no comfort

Leon could hear your soft voice fill the room as your fat tears dripped down his arm. He wishes he could just open his eyes, for one moment he just wants to see you, touch you, and tell you that everything is going to be okay, but his body had different plans.

"I-I'm so-so-sorry, Leon," The tears would not stop coming and it broke his heart into a million pieces.

"I'm sorry Leon, I wanted to get away. Just another way to feel what I didn't want myself to know and let myself go. I know, you didn't lose your self-control like I did. Let's start at the rainbow," He could feel your cold hand slide into his. Your hands are always cold, it was a normal occurrence for you to stick your hands under his shirt while he did paperwork. Normally it would be a annoyance to him but now he wish your hands could bring him out of his deep slumber.

He tried everything in his power to at least squeeze your hand as you spoke to the doctors.

"So, have you made a decision? I'm not trying to rush you but the faster we get him into the operating room the better chance he has at surviving,"

There was a almost dramatic pause before you spoke up again while you squeezed his hand. "We're going to try the surgery." Dr. Smith said a few things before she left the room.

Leon tried to wiggle his toes in hopes to work up to squeezing your hand. He had promised himself that he would try one more time. Once the door clicked shut he tried once last time. His muscles spasmed out as he gave you a very weak squeeze. He did it, he actually managed to squeeze your hand. High on his recent victory he tried again, this time the squeeze was just a little bit stronger. He heard your body shuffle to his as you leaned onto his body.

"Leon! Oh my god, you're here.....holy shit you're here," Your head laid against his chest as hot tears feel from your eyes once again.

"Listen to me, and listen good," If he could he would be rolling his eyes as he laughs at your seriousness.

"You are going to come out of this surgery alive. You hear me, alive. I won't take it any other way. Please give me a chance to apologize to you when you're awake....please," Your voice strained the further you got along in your speech.

Leon would make it out alive, no matter what, he will come back to you, no matter what.

A few hours passed and the sun began to peak over the horizon casting an orange hue on Leon's unconscious form. His features seemed to sharpen under the new lighting. Your voice had trailed off slowly as the hours past. You were re-telling anything and everything about your relationship with Leon. From the first time you saw him to the latest argument. Purple bags had started to form under your eyes as your soft snores were muffled by Leon's chest.

Birds started to sing their good mornings to their partners, it reminded Leon when he would roll over in the early hours of the morning and whisper sweet nothings into your hair. He wanted nothing more then to do that right now.

The door clicked open as a few doctors walked into the room. Sitting up you quickly brush the hair out of your face as you put a smile on and greet each of them.

The surgeon explained what the operation was, how it would be done, how long it would take, and even got into the risks; which seemed to outweigh the pros.

You felt your heart sink as you thought about everything that could go wrong, but alas, you still shook your head as you signed Leon's life away.

Within a few short moments, Leon was being rolled out to the operation room. The wheels groaned as they carried his heavy body to the room where his life would be at stake. You could do nothing more but pace the room and pull your hair. Dr. Smith tried numerous times to get you home, but you couldn't. This one 14-hour surgery had just begun. You had to be here to get the updates. Eventually, your pacing turned into a nap on the visitor's chair. By the 3rd hour, there had been no updates on Leon.

Leon couldn't feel anything, but the beeping machines had kept his brain going. His heart was at a steady beat as tools were pasted over his body.

"Do you see that?"

"Yea... is that the...virus?"

"I think so sir,"

The surgeon let out a curt nod before they turned around from Leon's body and started to take his gloves off.

Your head nodded off as your heavy eyelids fell over your bloodshot eyes. Your head landed on the wall behind you with a solid 'thump' before the door opened.

Jolting up at the sudden intrusion you scanned the room to find the surgeon with his head gear still on.

"Ah L/N, sorry to wake you, I was coming to check up on you and to update you on Leon's current state," You shot out of your chair upon hearing his words.

"Is he okay?"

"I'm afraid not..."

"Wha-" Your legs were starting to shake as your brain raked through all of the things that could have gone wrong.

"I'm afraid he's not going to make it,"

"No..." Ringing filled your ears as your heart shattered. Every little piece fell to your feet, one by one.

The male's voice was muffled as he gave his condolences and stepped out. Time seemed to speed up and slow down all at once. Small laughs bubbled out of you as you shook your head in disbelief.

"He's not dead. Leon is stronger than that, I know my boyfriend," Your hands pulled at the roots of your head as paced the white room. Laughing to yourself you uttered nonsense about your recent lover's death.

Walking over to the chair felt like you were floating, upon sitting down the severity of the situation finally hit you head-on. A locked-up sob racked through your body before you choked out a cry.

"God no please let this be a sick cruel joke." You knew better than that, healthcare workers had no right to be so insensitive in a situation like this. But still, you prayed out to whatever god would listen that a miracle would happen.

You rocked yourself back and forth as your bawled in your hands. Your tears dropped down into the Earth's core, naturing those you have passed and now your beloved.

Leon could still hear the annoying beepings and murmured voices but past all of that, the memory of your guy's first date played for him. His eye's darted from side to side under his closed lids as the memory played out.

When Leon had taken you out for dinner he was on a 3-day drunken sin. He could care less about the slight fever he had as his sweaty fist knocked on your door. If it weren't for the text you sent him the night before he would have forgotten about the whole night ahead of him. When you opened the door he thought he was dreaming.

Once the late hours of the night rolled in you guys sat in his drawing shapes from the fogged windows. All Leon could think about was your soft sweet lips against his. Leon doubt he could find a thing as sweet as you. You had given him a toothache just from kissing him.

When he moved on to his special agent duties, so did your relationship. You had spent long nights worrying for his safety. Whenever he came home, you would love and nature, Leon, hoping his broken stems would grow beautiful flowers again. You had never asked him about the wrong he had done, you never fret none about what his hands and body had done. He knew if the lord never forgave him his baby would at least. Every time he would come back all bruised and beat you would put your love down soft and sweet. Leon was free in those long periods of bliss.

Leon's line of work had been a main point of many discussions for friends, family, and even between yourselves. He had voiced the concept that he'll never be able to rest till the world is free of its atrocities and those who have created them. In the same sense, he refuses to go down easily and won't rest till he has said his goodbyes and departed this world on his own terms. So, when he brought up the topic of how he wanted to be buried and celebrated you never really listened.

"Baby, are you listening to me? When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth."

You could see the picture crystal clear, Leon's grave blooming with everything he has done for this world, giving it all back in the form of nature. Small forget-me-not's would bloom in great big bushes between great big lilies alongside tall strong daffodils. His tombstone would say "In Loving Memory of Leon Scott Kennedy. A man who would do anything for others. He lived and died a Special Agent, protecting his Country." Despite his jokes about wanting one of his infamous one-liners instead.

Your brain went into auto-pilot as you signed a dozen of papers and drove yourself home. The house was cold and dark without your partner. The clank of your keys and thumps of your heavy steps brought you out of your trance as you stood in the middle of your foyer. Everything about him was gone, even down to his shoes. A lump in your throat began to form the longer you looked at his supposed place for his shoes.

Walking further into the living room reminisces of the night before flashed between your vision. The lump in your throat slowly moved up. How could you be so cruel to him when you knew that could have been the last time you'll see him. Disgusted with yourself, you rushed to your shared room. Blankets were thrown across the bed as the sheets wrinkled in their unkept spot. The scent of his cologne smacked you in the face as you walked over to his side of the bed. Sitting down your hand soothed out the wrinkles as stare off.

The days seemed to mush together as you spent every waking hour in bed. When the sun was shining you were sleeping, and when the moon's light cascaded in your cold lonely bed you were weeping. Your phone had been dead for the past 3 days and your family was starting to worry. Any attempt to help you was futile, your spark of life was gone. You wanted to join Leon in his adventure to serenity, maybe then you guys will be able to live out a peaceful life with no troubles of life.

Sighing you rolled out of bed as you shuffled to your bathroom. Upon removing your hand from rubbing your face the reflection that looked back at you was horrifying. Dark bags lined each eye, you hair was knotted, and your complexation was pale, you looked like a zombie. You were quick to turn away, as you go to turn the shower on. The cold metal of the handle bit at your hand as you twisted it all the way to the left. Your hands trailed down to take your sleeping shorts off before you heard your front door creak open.

Your hands ghost over the band of your shorts as you turn your head. Waiting a few moments you the house went quiet again. You had to be hearing things, clearly you weren't in the right state of mind right now. Your shorts made it about half way down your legs before you heard footsteps. You rushed to pull them up as you rushed to find a weapon.

When you moved in with Leon he had showed you how you could use anything as a weapon. The main thing he pointed out when you guys made it to the bathroom was: "The toilet lid will be your best option, it's heavy and reliable if you have a good grip."

You were quick to pull the lid off as your gripped it just how he showed you. Walking out of the bathroom you kept your knee slightly bent to lower your body as you walked with one foot in-front of the other. Heavy footsteps neared your room, quickly you stood behind your door as they got louder.

Closing your eyes you took a deep breath in and opened them on the exhale. You had cursed yourself for not double checking the locks, and keeping your doors wide open. Raising the lid over your shoulder you watched as a tall broad body made their way through the door. You knew you were royally fucked when you saw his muscle strain through his compressed shirt.

He blond hair swayed with each calculated step. Before he could make it any further you let out a piercing scream before you swung for his head. The lid was sure to hit him right on, deeming him unconscious as you ran for help; that was the plan anyway. The male was quick to twist his body as his hand caught the lid.

Before you could scream you paused when you saw his face.

Leon.

It was Leon.

No, it couldn't be.

He was...

dead?

"Leon?" Your arms slowly dropped with the lid still in your hands.

"Are you trying to land me in the hospital again?" Your bottom lip quivered as you rushed to him.

Your arms wrapped around his body, dropping the porcelain lid. You tucked your head in-between his chest as his scent flooded your nose. He's here. He's here and alive, you couldn't believe it.

A sob racked through your body as he wrapped his arms back around.

"I'm here, I'm right here, no need to cry," He rubbed your back as he rocked your bodies back and forth.

You guys stood like that for a long while, he pressed kissed into your hair as he whispered sweet nothings into your head.

"No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to you." You lifted your head to press your lips against his.

This one kiss is what you craved, what you needed. His head tilted down to yours slowly but surly getting ready to press his lips against yours.

Your eyes locked with his as his breath fanned over your lips. Before you lips could finally lock together a distant ringing filled the room.

Snapping your head towards to direction of the noise your eyes fluttered open as your phone continued to ring.

It was a dream. A sick cruel dream that your mind played for you. You watched as your phone finished ringing before you curled up on your side and began to cry.

"When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth."

[inherstars]

Prospect | Ten Questions (More or Less) | (1 of 2)

Cee and an injured Ezra make it back to the The Bellwether in the dead mercenaries' pod, and must settle in for the first few nights of their new life. Writing Ezra's dialogue is going to be the fucking death of me.

It was pretty smooth sailing, up until the Purser asked about their affiliation.  Ezra was usually good at thinking on his feet, but he wasn’t precisely in top form.

“Oh, this is my…”  A glance to Cee, a gesticulation.  Clearly, anyone could see that they were, uh…

“Cous--” she started.

“Daught--”

Nope. Fucked that all the way up.  Ezra licked his bottom lip and looked at the Purser, who was thoroughly unimpressed with whatever the hell was happening in front of him.

Ezra tried again.

“You see, my companion here--”

The men held a hand up stiffly, palm out, stopping him in his tracks.

“You know what? Don’t fucking care.  Manifest says your docking and berthing fees are paid, and your names didn’t throw up any red flags in the system.  That’s the beginning and end of the shits I give.”

It was slightly hard not to notice that Ezra was sweating buckets and listing on his feet, a hand clutched over a blister of biomedical expanding foam protruding like a fungal growth from a tear in his enviro-suit.  And also missing a goddamned arm.

Ezra grinned at him, head sagging sideways. He would have sold both kidneys just to end this conversation, but it was in his nature to always have more words for a given situation than was even remotely necessary.

“That so, my good man?”

The Purser passed him a set of key cards. “Make sure that it stays that way.”

As Cee intercepted the cards, he scrutinized her a bit more carefully. “...although.  I kinda remember you.  Thought you were here with a different guy.  Older.  Thick beard.”

Ezra smiled and risked taking his hand off the foam, scratching his short black scruff of five o’clock shadow. Or whatever the temporal equivalent was, out in the ass end of space.

“Freshly shorn,” he said.  “A good shave takes twenty years off a man, doesn’t it?”

Cee took his elbow, impatient.  “Is that all?  Can we go?”

The Purser’s tongue glossed grimly over his teeth.

“Last question.  Anything to declare?”

“Indeed,” Ezra agreed.  “We are extremely tired, and would like to get to our quarters.”

She dragged him down the corridor.

Cee knew her way around the master ship, having already spent hours exploring its endless, meandering, lonesome passageways.  She knew all the places to curl up with a notebook, all the spots that maintenance and security couldn’t be bothered to inspect in the wee hours of curfew.  Ezra, however, was a babe in the woods, and she mentally prioritized everything he would reasonably need -- and need to do -- before they were shut in for the nightly lockdown.

She dragged him as far as the infirmary, explaining the shorthand of ship’s interior mapping as she went: the blue lines on the floor led to the bathrooms and shower rooms; white led to medical; yellow to engineering; black to operations; brown to cargo and docking; green to passenger berths.

“Green to passenger berths,” he echoed.  The feverish, sleepy heaviness of his eyes was deeply worrisome.  She stared rivets into him, wondering exactly how much hand-holding he was going to need to get through this.  Hopefully not too much, already at the disadvantage of only having one hand.

“I’m going to go get a shower,” she said slowly, firmly, then nodded to the infirmary’s main doors. “You need to go in there.  They can get you… fixed up.”  She looked him over, doubting herself even as she said the words.  “Or.  Close to it.”

“I will get put right,” he promised.  “Worry not your pretty head about that, little bird.”

Yeah, this was going to be a ride.

Cee pressed one of the keycards into his hand.  Twice.  Then a third time, manually curling his fingers around it until he gripped it reflexively.

“Infirmary.  Then shower.  Then berth. In that order.  I’ll meet you there. OK?”

He nodded drunkenly.  She stared hard.

“What color do you follow to get to the berths?”

Ezra had a moment of quiet panic, then blurted, “Green.”

Cee breathed out hard as she turned.

*******

It was going to take him awhile, so Cee didn’t rush.  She paid for a locker outside the shower room, peeling from her enviro-suit and stuffing it into the lockbox alongside her much-abused backpack.  She checked her onboard credit and was delighted to find a small stash saved up from odd jobs since their last deployment, and the occasional,  meager allowance her father grudgingly gave her.  Damon’s life savings were stored in the system somewhere, as well, but she had no idea how to access it.  It was hers by rights… surely she could do something with it, if she got her hands on it.

Ezra would probably know how.

She showered for what felt like an hour, practically emptying the little wall dispensers off the gritty all-purpose cleanser that turned into soap under the water.  She scrubbed her skin raw, elbows and shoulders and scalp, until the automated reminder chimed that her water allotment was nearing its end.

Her first treat to herself was a fresh set of “Skivvies” -- a prepackaged set of plain white t-shirt, sweatpants and the world’s most generic underwear, not quite one-size-fits-all, but one-size-kinda-fits-skinny-ass-space-orphans.  She blotted her hair dry in the steamy mirror, staring at her fogged reflection until it slowly cleared.

Did she look older?  She felt older.

Her possessions recollected from the pay locker, she stopped by the ship commissary for something to eat, but was disappointed to find they’d already closed until the next day cycle.  Ah well.  The shower was worth it.

Taking her own advice, she followed the scuffed green pathway on the gridded floors, eventually wending to the berth that matched the engraving on her keycard.

Ezra was already cleared from the infirmary and waiting for her, hunkered down on one of the two narrow cots on either side of the small compartment.  There wasn’t much to it besides the beds, to be honest -- a little stainless steel sink and mirror, an alcove apiece for clothes or other personal items, and a kotatsu-style coffee table in the very center, though from Cee’s experience the heating element often didn’t work.

Ezra pawed through a small, rattling drawstring bag screen-printed with a bright red caduceus, though he glanced up at her as she entered.  He looked better.  Still punch-drunk and sweaty, but more alert.  Cleaner, too, which meant he’d listened to her instructions about hitting the showers.  He even wore an identical set of Skivvies, albeit his were better suited to his frame.

The look she gave him wasn’t relieved, however.  She didn’t doubt the pill bottles rattling around in that bag were legitimate, and freshly prescribed, but the sight of a grown man feverishly going after drugs still put her on edge.

“You look better,” she said cautiously, shutting the door behind her and squeezing over to her own cot on the room’s opposite side.  It was freshly sheeted, equipped with a small pillow and a tightly folded green blanket.  Standard issue.  The bare minimum for what they’d paid.

Ezra resumed his digging and rattling.

“Appearances can be deceiving.”  He paused, then said, “Actually… perhaps I am being a sight uncharitable to our fine men and women of the onboard facilities.  They did indeed patch me up… albeit at some cost.  Well worth the expense, mind you.”  He flicked her a brief, appreciative look as she settled on the edge of her bed.  “Thanks in no small part to your skilled intervention during my time of need.  They commended your surgical skills.”

Cee made a small noise, noncommittal, as her hands smoothed the crisp, coarse bedsheet.

“What did they give you?”

“A stern and critically judgemental eye and a wide berth.”

She rolled him her most sixteen-year-old look of exasperation, and he uttered a rough laugh.

“The usual pharmaceutical compliment to one in a state such as I.”  He finally got tired of trying to dig around one-handed and pulled out the bottles one by one, inspecting them and placing them on the table.  Cee stretched, picking them up as well, studying the labels.  “Well, see for yourself.”

The names all looked like random generated combinations of letters, but she was familiar enough with them to recognize a course of antibiotics, anti-virals, anti-inflammatories, cellular regenerators.  Her nose wrinkled as she set them back down, and Ezra began popping the lids with his thumb, swallowing each dose dry as he went.

“I get the antibiotics.  What are the anti-virals for?”

“Under other circumstances, young lady, if you are to encounter a man on a course of powerful anti-virals, I will advise you very strongly to run the other way, but in this instance, specifically, they are to help ward off what’s coming.”

Pill after pill after pill.  One got stuck and he grimaced and held his head back, massaging his throat to help it go down.

“...what’s coming?”

He finally got it past his adam’s apple and, with a sigh of relief, stashed them all back in the canvas bag.

“Ah, the sweet springtime innocence of the perpetual Floater.  Troubadours or -- dare I say -- modern-day Romanichel of the Fringe.  You, little bird, have the lived the sort of rootless, vagabond life that equips your ilk with a robust immunity to the most common and problematic afflictions that run rampant in such…” He paused, circling a hand at the air. “...close and questionably maintained quarters.  Unlike myself who, having now spent more seasons than I care to admit plumbing The Green for my fortune -- or, let us be honest, the fortunes of others -- have no such acquired defense.”

Cee needed a moment to absorb all that, and it wasn’t until he rattled the last bottle at her that she understood.

“Prophylaxes,” he said.

She blinked, thoughtful.  “This place is going to make you sick?”

“Miserably so, yes,” he agreed, wincing and grimacing as he lowered himself to his back.  “And quickly, besides.  For a short time only, fortunately -- at least until the internal gyroscope of such things orients itself more in my favor.  But it will be an unfortunate few weeks until that happens.”

He’d nearly relaxed into the mattress when something occurred to him, and he propped up on an elbow.  Thoughtlessly he tried to reach back into his bag, then realized he was already utilizing the only arm he had available.  With a bitter sigh he sat all the way up, wobbling and nearly losing his balance, then fished something from the bag.

A trio of Bits Bars hit the table with a thud.

“Very nearly forgot.  I was fortunate enough to make it to the commissary before they closed.  These are for you.”  He laid back again, more slowly this time, grimacing as he went.  “...I hope you like the strawberry ones.”

Cee stretched for one of the bars, fingering the foil finseal before tearing it open.

She did like the strawberry ones.  She liked them very fucking much.

Peeling it open at one end, eating with unexpected contentment, Cee asked, "What do we do now?"

“I cannot speak for you, little bird,” he rasped, draping his forearm across his eyes.  “But I, for one, am going to sleep.  My internal clock is ruint, and the only remedy for such things is sleep.  And plenty of it.”  He lifted his elbow just enough to peek at her from beneath.  “...I advise you do the same.”

Cee had nothing else to do, so why not.  Her music player was back down in the old Pod on The Green, never to be recovered, and it was weeks since she lost her well-loved copy of Streamer Girl.

She still had her notebook, though.  Her little private capsule of friend who knew her name.  Who liked her, and enjoyed her company.  Whose inner and interpersonal conflicts and joys she understood as well as she did her own.

Cee fished the notebook out, folding back the cover, and eased back onto her pillow to read.

She was asleep before the shipwide intercom chimed with the onset of curfew, and the berth’s internal lights automatically dimmed to darkness.

Continued here.

[m-jelly]

hi, could I request a Levi x member of the special operation squad reader, where after coming back from the female Titan expedition to the Hq the reader breaks down in a panic attack? Like, she had always been a strong soldier, the type not to even cry at comrades’ deaths, but after she loses half of her original squad and especially Petra, who she was really close to, just can’t hold it in anymore? Thank youuu! 🧡🧡

@kenkopanda-art <3

Just let go

Levi x fem!Reader

Canon, emotional, panic attack, supportive Levi, loving Levi, being a couple.

You are completely broken up and feel like you're falling apart. As you struggle to breathe as your emotions rush you, Levi hurries over to you and helps you somewhere to be alone. He holds you close and guides you through your panic attack. He reminds you just how much he loves you.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

Your heart was racing in your chest as tears stung your eyes. No matter how much you gulped and tried to catch your breath, it was impossible. It was almost instinct to clutch your chest in desperation, but you gained no relief. All you could think about was your team, your friends and your best friend Petra, who was a few years younger than you.

You had been ordered to stay behind with Levi and Erwin. Erwin needed two strong people to watch over the female titan. When everything went to shit and the titan ran, all you could think about was the friends and comrades you had left alone.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get back in time. Levi had stopped you from seeing your friends, but it was impossible. You saw their bodies and it struck something inside you. You had seen a lot of blood and bodies before, but there was something different about seeing those you held dear.

The last straw for you was dumping the bodies of those you cared about in order to get away from Titans and Levi being hurt. You just wanted to be alone in a room with your thoughts. You wanted to scream and shout to the sky. You wanted to disappear.

You stumbled towards the scout base as you tried to control your breathing, but it was getting harder for you. You stumbled a little as your vision began to blur. You gripped the wall tightly as you clutched your chest. It was like there was a lump in your throat that was expanding with each second.

Levi wrapped his cape around you to shield you from view. "Erwin, we're both going to medical."

Erwin noticed the look in his friend's eyes. "Understood. Take care, okay?"

Levi noticed the softness in Erwin's eyes, it was a deep care and concern for you. "Yeah." He moved you along inside the base as you kept struggling to breathe. "I'm right here, all right? I'll take care of you. We're going to my office so you can get away from the cadets."

You looked over at Levi as tears streamed down your cheeks. "Thank you, but your leg."

"I've had worse. Besides, you are the most important thing to me."

You shook in his arms. "Levi."

He unlocked his office door and ushered you inside. He swiftly locked it behind him and led you to his bedroom in the back. "I'm going to take your things off, okay?"

You nodded and stood in his bedroom. This wasn't the first time Levi had undressed you in this room. The two of you had been a couple for a while. Your love was rather soothing and passionate. You cared for each other so deeply and you were each other's cure for life.

Levi took great care in undressing you and putting you into comfortable clothes. Not a word was said between you two because it wasn't needed. Just the care and kindness in Levi's touch was everything you needed.

You raised your head and watched Levi change into something comfortable. "Levi."

He smiled softly at you. "I know."

You shook on the spoke. "Mm" Tears filled your eyes. "They're all gone." You stumbled towards Levi. "They're all gone."

He caught you in his arms and held you. "I know. I...I..."

You clung to him. "I wish I could have saved them."

"Me too." He picked you up and sat you on his bed. He climbed on and pulled you against him and held you for a moment. His soft lips gently pressed against your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too, Levi."

"I'm glad you are safe. I could never lose you. You are my life and soul."

You snuggled closer to him. "Mm. You're everything to me."

He looked down at you and smiled. He gently wiped the last of your tears away. "I'll be here with you for as long as you need me to be. I will never leave your side."

"Thank you." You sniffed a little. "How's your leg or ankle?"

He hummed. "Throbs."

"This resting with me will do you some good then."

He chuckled and pulled you close. "Yes." He massaged his fingers in your hair. "If you ever need to cry or scream or hit something, I am here."

You leaned up and pouted as you looked down at Levi. "I don't want to hit you."

He reached up and touched your cheek. "You're cute."

You leaned down and kissed him. "Thank you, Levi. I know we haven't talked deeply about what happened, but you just being here for me is all I needed. I just...being around you...you're so soothing. You relax me. You make me feel at ease."

"I was so closed off to others until I met you. You made me a better man. We'll get through this together. I swear."

[wespirallin]

sweet tooth fanfic idea

Okay so people, I just finished watching the last season of Sweet Tooth on Netflix, and holy moly is it so good. I had a few fanfic ideas that I hoped were already written, but if you're in the community, you've realized by now that we're kinda small.

So I decided to write my own (yay!!). I don't wanna give any spoilers but it's going to be about a bird hybrid oc (Mack) that's found and semi-raised by the Animal Army.

I want to focus on a few specific (all platonic so far) relationships Mack has and how his character grows as the seasons progress. I literally just wrote chapter one of the fic and decided to come talk about it on tumblr lol.

Anyway, here's the first chapter. It's more like a prologue that features Mack's dad who is going to be very relevant to the story later on.

Chapter 1 / prologue

It was just a regular Tuesday for Benjamin Crane when the end of the world hit. Well, at least when shit started to get actually real. Perhaps dumbing down the Great Crumble to a specific day wasn’t the most accurate way of looking at history, but it helped keep him sane. 

It was the end of a long shift for Benjamin and he just wanted to go home to his wife, but he had one more argument to get through.

“Sam, I already told you. We had Room 3 booked from the very start of the week. Everything’s already prepped up for the surgery tomorrow. I can’t just bail out of it. The patient -hell the kid's family is counting on me.”

“So?”, dared to ask his collogue “I still don’t get how you can’t just rope Sthe new guy teve in. He has no major operations on for tomorrow as far as I know. And he’s more than capable of getting the job done. Not to burst your ego bubble, Benji but you’re as replaceable as the rest of us mate”

Benjamin made an incredulous expression. “Well if I’m ‘perfectly replaceable’, why don’t you go find another guy to help you co-op your operation?” he scowled.

“Come on, you know I need a plastic surgeon for this. There’s no way I can reconstruct that hand on my own. And last I checked, there wasn’t another one of you guys in the market. So you’re my best shot. You in or out?”, pleaded the surgeon.

Normally, Sam wouldn’t have needed another pair of hands to help him out, however, this one was a special case. The patient was a 20-year-old guy, who got his hand caught in a machine of sorts. According to the X-ray results, the hand was broken from multiple different places, and several tendons were snapped. As a general surgeon, hands weren’t Sam’s specialty. And no matter how much pride he had in his abilities, he knew when to ask for help. Even when it killed him inside. Even when it was from his best friend/arch-enemy (who was way too arrogant for his own good).

The argument was interrupted by the blaring alarm of an incoming ambulance. That was nothing out of the ordinary, seeing that the two colleagues were in the break area just outside the ER. Just as Benji opened his mouth the reply, the doors of the ambulance flew open and a team of medical personnel (who were decked out in hazmat suits for some reason) rushed a stretcher into the ER.

The two barely had the chance to take a look at the patient before she was out of sight. The woman looked deathly pale and her face had a sickly yellow hue to it along with beads of sweat that had drenched her hair and clothes. The skin around her nose and eyes were red and if Benji looked close enough, he was sure that he could see a few exposed arteries. The one thing that had unsettled both men was the rapidly twitching pinkie finger, which seemed to be the only sign of life from the patient.

After losing about five percent of the population of Earth, the Sick had seemed to be taken under control. The hospitals around the world had had about a month of Sick-less break until now. It seemed that another wave of the Sick was incoming.

Benji grimaced and bit his lip.

“That was…”

“Unsettling as fuck.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“You think it’s back?”,  Sam tried to steady his voice. 

He had lost his wife and kids to the first wave. Benji’s heart ached for him but he pushed the bitter feelings down. Getting sentimental never helped anyone. It hadn’t helped the woman he saw as a sister nor had it helped the two little innocent children he loved as his nieces.

“I don’t think it was ever gone in the first place” Benji answered honestly and took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

The lingering hazmat team outside the ER didn’t help settle any of their nerves, but they had more pressing matters to get back to. Sam patted Benji’s shoulder a few times before opening his mouth to speak.

“Think about it yeah? You still have the rest of the afternoon to think about it, but be quick. Promise, I’ll organize everything and I’ll talk to Steve. See if he’s up for covering your little case of local anesthesia.”  

Benji snorted at that and shook his head in disbelief. What part of a ‘3-hour very important surgery’ did his friend not understand?

The patient up next was a nine year old kid that had fallen on his face. His parents had said that he slipped from some monkey bars. A broken nose and . It was nothing that major compared to what Benji usually dealt with, but these were the relatives of a friend he was talking about. Benji pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, damn had he missed the old days where all he had to do was get in and out of a surgery. Managing the scheduling of the patients without any secretarial help in a collapsing world wasn’t the easiest thing in the world.

The hospital was short of staff at the moment, as it constantly was after the new ‘Sick Pandemic’ had broken out. Almost all of the nurses and other staff were either dead or transferred to ER or to the patient care areas that were heavily quarrantiened. 

Finally, he let out a sigh of defeat and grunted. Hand operations were his favorite anyways.

“Fine, but I’m not organizing shit -and the beers on Friday are on you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very grumpy and pregnant wife to go back to.” 

Sam forgot about the topic at hand at the mention of Pemma, a school friend of his. He let out an excited chuckle. He clapped Mikey’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah, how could I forget? Congratulations dude! I’m so happy for you two. Finally, becoming parents eh? Say hi to Pemma and Sam Jr for me yeah?”

“Sam for the last time, we’re not naming my child Sam Jr!”

“Pleaaseee? And it’s a unisex name. It can be short for Samantha if it’s a girl, or for Samuel or whatever that starts with Sam. Or it can be just Sam if it decides to be non binary or something one day! See? Win-win.”

The younger man gave him an unimpressed look and raised an eyebrow.

“Sam, my kid is not going to be nonbinary. See you tomorrow for the surgery, idiot.”

Benji pushed past Sam and walked toward his car. Now he had a very unpleasant phone call to make to the family of the kid he was supposed to operate the next day.

Benjamin Crane drove straight home, completely unsuspecting of what the future had in store for him, his wife, and his soon-to-be-born child.

Okay so that was that. Some feedback would be very welcome because I feel lost on which platform to post it on or if it would get any traction at all. I'd probably keep working on it tbh just to scratch that writing itch inside me but oh well. We'll see. Go watch sweet tooth if you haven't yet btw, it's amazing.

[self-loathing-angel-of-thursday2]

Beautiful Spouse’s Thoughts 01x07 The Case of the Very Long Stairway

“What was that spider made up of? It looked like a bunch of Hershey kisses all tied up together in the shape of a spider. It was very strange” “the hell is that shirt? A pink snake? That’s kinda funny” “Does he have dentures on?” “Idk it doesn’t look like it. Idk if it was for the character or not” “I didn’t like bird people anyway” “I would like to understand the mechanism that spews the hot wax outside the skull. I know it’s CG, but is it hot in the skull and cold in the room?” “It’s not peer pressure if she’s not one of their peers, right?” “Is that Season 2?” “why is she reasoning with a dead boy?” “you have to be alive to do those things I assume” “so now is Jenny going to see the boys? Or is she still clueless?” “huh that’s kinda funny” “if ghosts were real, imagine the crazy fucked up tv shows they’d make about whatever. Just assume they’re real, that changes how we operate, what shows would happen?” “what if you don’t know that many people?” “doesn’t he have an infinite sack?” “is this s2 already? Is every season a level of hell” “is that the crazy lady?” “this looks kinda like that one nightclub downtown” “was he trying to walk through it? Or travel the mirror or something?” “or that one hotel in Seattle” “Didn’t it say DO NOT RING in the fkn journal? Why did he ring the bell? But it’s scratched out? So do ring it?” “this is the lockpicking lawyer…” “I want Potbelly’s now” “this is like the first hallway they ran threw but shittified” “that’s just wallpaper made to look like books. It has no depth. The books in the foreground look real though” “I feel like after a century, you’d be way more efficient than that, and you’d have way more paper around you”” “mmkay” “what’s that?” “why so many feelings?” “really? He’s going to give up on him that easy huh? Better than going off with the only person who’s walked into the room in the last 100 years?” “wouldn’t Death have put the kid there? Why did Death come back?” “so does this make teenagers children then? I’m not saying I agree or disagree. I’m just asking for facts” “we’re all itching to go into hell?” “that’s interesting” “maybe she doesn’t want them back?” “is that the mind’s eye or something?” “literally burying him ok fine” laughter “Ok” “oh hey bitch” “why are we looking at lobotomy shit?” laughter

“I think they meant to make those look creepier than they were” “almost a stranger things vibe” “I feel like he could have been quieter than that” “oh it’s not Hershey kisses; it’s a bunch of weird dolls” “ok”

“Is it only the eight eyes on the head or is it all the eyes that work?” “imagine filming this” “fkn what the fuck” “what did you do at work today/ Squirm around on the floor. That was insane” “just a few more” “get the hell out before your argue” sigh

“Say it on the other side” “time to fkn go bud” “you could have gone faster but we had to deal with our feelings. Let’s fkn go” “I suppose that what happens to the other lady counts as a near death experience” “that was a very odd technicality” “ok”

“Can’t Jenny see the boys? It would make the explanation so much easier” “he’s going to kill the tree though so that’s not good” “only 4 of them” “give them to the crow and see if he explodes if he doesn’t take them back?” “what does it taste like I wonder” “is it like swallowing a hard candy?”

[fallstreakfeathers]

Urogi Headcanons

bc I'm in love with he??? brainrotting so bad for this guy.

General:

Aizetsu helps preen the feathers Urogi can’t reach, mostly because Sekido won’t help and Karaku occasionally pulls the wrong feather (ow) for shits

He is not unintelligent, but definitely makes really dumb decisions based on how fun the result might be

He is the most ‘feral’ of the clones, operating and making decisions based mostly on instinct rather than logic- which greatly frustrates Sekido

Really bad at identifying his own feelings. If he were to ever grow attached to someone else (especially romantically) he wouldn’t understand it. He’d just know that he wants to be around that person a lot/etc.

Very easy to distract, and the most forgiving of a fight if you can distract or entertain him (”forgiving” in that he might not kill you afterward)

Urogi hates rain. It soaks his wings, preventing him from flying. The change in air density also makes flight difficult. He has been know to throw tantrums over rainstorms.

Despite a dislike of rain, he loves water in general. You can sometimes find him flapping about in a lake or pond like a massive bird bath

Better at soaring than active flying but is incredible at diving. Reaches surprising speeds.

Loves birds! Won’t ever hurt them but sometimes accidentally terrifies them when he tries to race once in the sky. He doesn’t always realize he’s scaring them.

Has a room in Hantengu’s hideaway to keep his stuff because Sekido complains if he leaves anything around.

Knows how to knit, for some reason??? Has a massive blanket he painstakingly made for himself and the other clones and it’s one of the few things they ALL take care not to destroy in any way.

He likes knowing how to create things, even if they don’t always turn out quite right.

Woe betide you if you make fun of Urogi’s knitting or that blanket.

Honestly just likes learning new things, doesn’t matter what it is. It makes him happy. He loves when people want to teach him things!

Adrenaline Junkie. Sometimes folds his wings together just to plummet thousands of feet. For fun.

Tells really dumb jokes that he thinks are hilarious. Sometimes they don’t even make sense.

Doesn’t care for traditions or social taboos. He’s likely to break social rules just because it’s funny.

Though he cares in his own way for the other clones, Urogi is particularly fond of Aizetsu. Given the choice, he will always help Aizetsu first. Tends to be shockingly patient with Aizetsu’s morose personality.

Knitted a small blanket for Aizetsu to hold when he’d particularly down.

Urogi is the 3rd least likely to be convinced to let someone go free once he’s targeted them (the first being Aizetsu, 2nd Karaku, and the least likely is Sekido)

this man cannot draw worth beans but still has his art pinned on the wall at Hantengu’s place.

Has explosive sneezes- often accidentally emits sound wave of varying strength. Whoops.

Behavior:

His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth when he’s really concentrated on something (like... knitting).

Tilts his head like an owl or hawk when curious about something he sees or hears.

Frequently goes off on his own when separated, much to Sekido’s annoyance.

Sometimes attempts to groom the other clones- to Sekido’s obvious irritation, Karaku’s amusement, and Aizetsu’s confusion.

Will playfully nip and headbutt people he considers friends

flies more than he walks because he looks a little silly walking and it's one of the few things he's a little self-conscious about.

Uses his wings to propel himself forward even short distances.

Chirps! Also (like many birds) can growl, hiss, purr, and (of course) screech. Has an enormous vocal range but tends to make only a handful of noises compared to what he’s capable of.

If he is extremely upset about something, he can screech so loud that the vibrations can shatter trees. Though he is rarely ever even remotely that upset.

His bird-like calls also change when he’s sad or threatening someone from afar. He releases very low frequency rumbles that border on being infrasound (see: cassowaries)

If he can’t devour his prey immediately, he will impale the body on a tall branch to save for later.

Extremely excitable. He does get the zoomies. Don’t bother trying to stop him, just wait until he calms down a little.

Tends to attack his opponent's eyes in battle.

Doesn’t know personal space (doesn’t care, really) but is, ironically, protective of his personal space regarding his wings. Unless he offers, do not try to touch them!

Uses his wings in combat! They’re not just for show or flight. Has a lot of strength in them and he can use them to bludgeon an opponent.

He does like to perch on the shoulders of other people. Since his body is quite light, you should be fine if you have a strong back.

He is the most emotionally immature of the clones.

Also the chattiest! This guy can talk for hours, about everything and nothing. Karaku is 2nd most talkative. Has bit his own tongue from talking so fast.

Urogi has the strongest survival instincts of the clones. He’s not afraid to flee a battle if things are going south for him- though that hasn’t happened in decades. The idea of honor in battle means very little to him.

Collects shiny things, and stuff he steals from Slayers. Has a bit of everything- bones, rocks, gems, cool sticks, nichirin swords and shards, metals, books, animal fur, etc

Doesn’t actually read very well tbh but he does like the concept of books

frequently demands that Demon Slayers ‘play’ with him but it’s always a gamble what he means by that. Sometimes it’s a friendly tussle, sometimes a full-scale battle, and sometimes it’s just dropping you from 700 feet in the air and seeing if you survive.

When they’re free as a group, Urogi will often soar high above, scouting the area for the other clones. Since nobody can hear him hundreds of feet in the air, he’s developed several aerial signals for various things (Slayers in the vicinity, potential prey, coverage from the sun, the sun is rising soon, etc)

Physical:

His ‘pants’ are actually thick, silky feathers. I will never change my mind about this.

He wears the string of pearls around his waist mostly just so Sekido stops complaining about him being completely naked all the time. 

Doesn’t smell bad unless he just ate, and therefore smells like carnage, but he has the rather distinct smell that feathers do

His scales are prone to getting mites, and flea’s on his upper legs, so he’s always taking surprisingly good care of himself. He doesn’t get infestations, because the parasites generally die after biting him, but those bites itch and make him miserable. Frequently bathes and rolls in dust to prevent them.

If he has down time, there’s a good chance you’ll find him preening himself.

Has some feathering on the nape of his neck. It’s hard to tell because it’s the same type he has on his legs, and so it blends in with his actual hair pretty well

Urogi’s feathers molt every few months. During this time, he’s super itchy and irritable. This is the time he’s most likely to uncharacteristically snap at someone.

Hantengu has been intentionally beheaded before just to release Urogi because the poor guy was so uncomfortable that it was affecting everyone else. 

Molting is one of the few times he MIGHT let a stranger touch his wings, if he’s desperate enough, but God help you if you cross him in any way.

Injuries to his wings tend to cause him pain where injuries to other parts of his body wouldn’t. They're sensitive enough to feel and process changes in air currents.

Body temperature is always on the warm side. He’s a walking furnace, and it helps keep him from getting chilled when he’s higher in the atmosphere.

His scales are not stone-hard! They’re more akin to the way a snake’s scales feel- firm but with a lot of flexible give.

His feathers raise subconsciously when irritated to make him look bigger and more threatening.

Most of his bones are hollow.

Extremely good eyesight

When he’s not giving you his signature, toothy grin, his smile is actually a little crooked.

[draconic-ichor]

The Cat, The Sun, and The Moon

Fnaf fic

Sun/moon x female oc

Part 3

Summary: Tabby makes good headways on repairs while her relationship with her new animatronic roommate starts to get a bit tangled…

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, mind action, mechanical repairs

Feedback appreciated, 18+

Energy trickled into their system, Sun sitting still on the balcony. His working optic was turned off, just enjoying the soft warmth of the rising sun. Most of his rays were still operational, their original purpose becoming relevant again.

It was getting colder; he’d surely be able to see his breath if he needed to breathe. A sound roused him, optic blinking to life. Sun tilted his head up, watching birds fly over the apartment.

Bip!

A jingle sounded in his mind. He was sufficiently charged for now, moving to standing.

Sun wandered back into the apartment, careful to close the glass door as quietly as he could.

It was much too early for Tabby to wake, Sun busying himself organizing her movie cabinet in the meantime. But as the morning stretched on he grew more impatient, finding his way into her cracked bedroom door.

Her room was stark in furnishings, but everything was in pretty pastels, a cloud rug across the worn floor. He quietly went further, looking around.

A shelf drew his attention, high up on the wall but perfectly placed at face level for him.

His head tilted.

The shelf was full of brightly colored plushies, still brand new and pristine. His optic shifted down the line to see some official Fazbear plushies among them.

He reached out, picking up the Roxanne Wolf one, a pang of loneliness striking him.

Something else on the shelf caught his optic, faceplate swiveling towards it.

Tabby grumbled, snuggling into her blankets more. Another tap came to her shoulder.

“Hmm?” She sat up a bit, eyes cracking open.

Sun excitedly bounced beside her bed, patting her to wake her up more. His rays spun with a whirring sound.

“Sun?” She rubbed her eyes, yawning, “What are you doing in here?”

He pointed to the far side of the room, voicebox humming with static.

She followed his gesturing, cheeks reddening.

He’d found her plushies….

Even worse, he found her plushies of himself.

Sun excitedly went before the shelf, pointing at the sun plush then his own chest.

“Yea…that’s you.” She nodded.

He pointed to the matching counterpart next to it.

“…and Moon…” Tabby covered her face in embarrassment.

Sun’s rays spun around again.

She slid out of bed, making a quick escape into the kitchen. Unfortunately for her, Sun was right on her heels.

“I’m so thankful you can’t talk right now.” She huffed, taking a coffee cup from the cabinet.

Putting the idea into his head, Sun sat down gingerly on the living room rug, plugging himself into the laptop. After some fiddling his voice came to life.

“You liiiike us.” He jested, his voice showing the shit eating grin his broken face couldn’t currently allow.

“I just like collecting plushies!” Tabby tried to explain.

“There were only twelve.” He titled his head, “You like us.”

“I mean yea, I do!” She exclaimed exasperated, throwing a hand out.

Sun gave a showy gasp, hand over his mouth. Her face went crimson as he added, voice lower and taunting, “How embarrassing.”

“That’s it.” She stood, making Sun freeze.

She started stalking towards him, the other scrambling to his feet. “I’m taking the laptop.” Tabby approached him.

Sun bolted, making Tabby give chase, both yelling.

“Give it!” Tabby rounded the couch after him.

Sun easily went over the back of the couch, racing down the hallway. Even in the state he was in, the animatronic was still very quick.

Tabby tried to go after him but her sock clad feet slipped on the linoleum of the kitchen. She slid to the side before falling down on her butt with a thump.

“Ow.” She whined a bit.

Sun padded back into the room, caution lost in the wake of her falling.

“Are you alright?” He asked, coming closer.

“Yea I think-“ she started, baiting him, as soon as he was within arms reach she grabbed an ankle, “GOT YOU!”

“AAAAAAAAA!”

~

Sun lost laptop privileges until he apologized.

He shuffled in the doorway to her office, holding a piece of paper. Tabby glanced up at him from the box of parts she was shifting through.

He didn’t meet her gaze, kneeling down on the ground to get closer to where she sat on the floor.

“Hm?” She placed the box to the side.

Sun held out the paper.

Taking it she head it over:

We are sorry for making fun of you. It was not kind of us. Please don’t be mad.

We are sorry.

Tabby’s lips cracked into a soft smile. “I’m not mad.” She soothed, placing the paper to the side. But just as he perked up her next words made his rays droop worriedly. “You won’t get the laptop back though.” She informed, taking the box back into her lap.

He started to protest, all garbled static.

“Shhhh.” She gave him a knowing smile, “Because I’m going to do you one better.”

His head tilted.

“Let’s fix that voice-box today, I should have the parts to do the trick.” Her smile brightened further with his growing excitement.

She was able to get the voice box working again with spare parts she’d accumulated over the last year or so.

Their voice was a bit different, slightly lower and more raspy. Sun’s voice leaning more towards Moon’s tone before the fire; but their personality still shone through.

“Hello?” Sun tested his voice, hearing himself, he happily exclaimed, “Oh it worked, Starlight!”

“No more dragging around a laptop.” She smiled.

~

Now that they were up and moving a new problem arose: their attire. The fire had burned away their clothes, only ragged bits left that were cut away when they were cleaned up. In truth, they didn’t really have much to cover; everything was smooth metal and plastic. But there was something flustering about a humanoid form, that was designed with clothing in mind, walking about completely bare.

At least for Tabitha.

On one of her supply runs she stopped at a second hand store. Sifting through racks and racks of clothes she finally found something that might fit their lanky proportions.

Tabby pushed through the apartment door, arms full of bags from places ranging from the hardware store all the way to a craft outlet.

Sun watched her intently as she dumped the bangs on the counter, closing the door behind her.

“You went off the list…” he commented, curiosity heavy in his tone.

“These bags are for you.” She scooted a few towards him, “To help pass the time.”

He instantly started looking through them. “Oh you got us paints?!” He asked excitedly.

“Lots of stuff.” She smiled, adding a warning, “Just be careful. No staining the carpet or walls, ok?”

“There’s only one person that lives here that’s prone to making a mess.” He quipped, “And it isn’t us.”

She huffed.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He chanted happily soon after, looking over all the supplies.

“That’s not it.” Tabby reached into another bag, “I found you some clothes.

If Sun could frown he surely would have when she showed her findings: grey oversized sweats and a hoody greeted him.

She could feel his disappointment.

“I’m sorry!” She mewled, eyes puppylike, “There was nothing your size.”

“Ooooh this is so bad.” Sun looked it over more, holding it in outstretched arms.

“We can find you better stuff later, this is just so you have something to wear around the house.” She explained.

“I’ll look homeless.” He grumbled.

“Better than just waltzing around naked!” She threw her hands in the air.

“Uuuuuggghe” he whined, dragging his feet as he went into the bathroom with the new outfit.

Sun shuffled out, oversized hoodie making him look bulky. The sweats only came to mid calf and had to be tied tightly by the drawstrings to stay on his narrow waist.

“I look teeeeerrrrible.”

“No you look good.” She lied trying to soothe.

He gave her a narrow look.

“It’s only for a while.”

“It better be….”

New parts started to trickle in through the mail the next few days. Tabby was almost as excited as Sun to open all the boxes.

She began to repair him as the parts arrived, starting with his eyes.

The new optics blinked to life, glowing with a pale white light. Sun looked around, pupils moving as he looked, the screens on the optics went dark for a moment, simulating a blink.

He blinked again, making an excited sound. The new optics mirrored his excitement.

Tabby had, in all honesty, ordered the same high tech optics commonly used by cosplayers; being able to show a large range of emotions emulated on the little screens. She added a protective cap of harder plastic overtop of them, just to be safe.

The biggest box yet came in the next morning, taking up the whole doorway. Sun had to bring it in, sitting it carefully on the living room floor.

“I called in a favor.” Tabby smiled widely, leaning against the large box.

New pieces of a faceplate, freshly printed from carbon fiber plastic. Some extra pieces to repair parts of their exoskeleton tucked away in the packing peanuts as well.

They both dug through eagerly, unearthing every part. Sun held the largest piece of the new faceplate, fingers tracing over the nose and cheek.

“Starlight…” his voice was soft.

“Think it will be ok?” She leaned over his sitting form, “It still needs to be painted and sealed but I thought you could do the more artistic bits.”

“I am a professional.” He agreed, hand to his chest.

“And so humble too!” Tabby giggled.

“I know, I know; I was programmed with many illustrious qualities.” He boasted jokingly.

The new faceplates, coupled with the more high tech optics meant they could show a large range of emotions now with just their facial features. The ability to emote a double edged sword for the animatronic, both very expressive at the best and worst of times.

Their annoyance cut a bit deeper when accompanied by a hooded eye, or their bashfulness on full display when complimented. It was endearing to watch them reel in the new expressions.

~

Tabby had to do most of their repairs on Sun in particular, Moon being wholly unused to touch. He would interact with her at a distance, but physical touch was still a hurdle they hadn’t overcome.

The few tweaks she had to make on his half were done very cautiously. All the exoskeleton plates and newer faceplates were installed on Sun, him even sitting patiently as Tabby experimented with silicon skin. She used many of the techniques commonly employed by cosplayers or fursuiters to upgrade their appearance.

Moon would tremble, looking away as she worked, fingers flexing on the table edge.

He ground his metal teeth, Tabby’s sea green eyes glancing up with sympathy.

“Almost done…” she soothed, tightening one of the gears that assisted in their transition process.

He made a sound, deep and hissing from his voice box, red optic flicking to meet her gaze. She heard his fans kick up as he quickly looked away.

Leaning back she carefully closed the chest plate, moving to place the screws. They were capped with decorative metal to resemble buttons, to keep the chest cavity secure.

“Don’t.” Moon’s voice was hardly over a whisper.

Her hand pulled back, worry shadowing her features.

She looked so small, kneeling back on her heels. Moon looked her over, sharp incisor poking predominately from his curled lip.

Tabby had given the boys liberty to make modifications to their own looks, there being no reason to stay to Fazbear code. Moon had chosen to exaggerate the sharpness of his teeth, taking particular interest in the incisors. They weren’t truly that sharp in actuality, but gave the illusion of fangs. The silicone layer of false skin giving them even more expression and smooth look to each change of feature.

“Sorry.” She withdrew a bit.

Moon’s hand carefully glided over to scoop up the screws, deftly moving to replace them into their designed holes.

“I suppose you are used to doing that part.” Tabby commented nervously , wanting to fill the silence.

His optic flicked towards her again, but he didn’t humor her with a response.

~

Fixing their body came next….

“Now…this won’t be a perfect fix. You’ll still be able to tell where there was damage in the past.” She warned gently, pressing the printed piece over the largest hole in his exoskeleton. Sun watched closely as she applied a heat resistant silicone adhesive around the edges, carefully smoothing it out to as seamlessly fix the problem as they were able to.

“You won’t be able to move until it is cured, ok?” Tabby moved to the next.

“Okay.” He nodded. Watching her fix a majority of the damage to his abdomen casing, he asked, “Would that stuff work on my hands?”

“Your hands?” Tabby paused, blinking up at him.

He wiggled his fingers a bit without moving his arms for emphasis as he explained, “The cracks are causing some…issues. Would that fill them?”

“Oh! Um…” she sat back on her heels and thought, “It probably would, I’ll have to order more thought to test it.”

“Oh good!” Sun’s voice held a note of excitement. He tilted his head a bit and added, “Could you order a water resistant kind?”

“Of course.” She smiled up at him, hardening to scold, “Now don’t move!”

They were beginning to look whole again, complete in a new sense of the word. Able to recreate themselves in ways never able to before.

Tabby walked out of the bathroom, hair wet and dressed up for the day. She had a full schedule, having to purchase more materials for repairs and a job interview.

Sun greeted her happily, cleaning the bits of the kitchen he was able.

“Are you sure you need to get a new job?” Sun asked, rays drooping as she got a bowl from the cabinet.

“I recently got a rather high maintenance roommate.” She winked at him.

“But you’ll be gone all the time…” he sulked.

“I also need money, Sun.” She poured cereal into the bowl, “A friend from college is putting in a good word for me.”

“At the warehouse?” Sun’s tone was disheartened, “Seems like a downgrade…”

“Yea…” she agreed softly, padding over to get the milk from the fridge. She shrugged a bit, “It will be income until I can find something that suits me better.”

“Well, we’ll be here rooting for you.” Sun smiled.

“Thank you.” She brightened.

The milk jug slipped from her hold, bouncing off the counter and spilling out a bit. “Fuck!” Tabby exclaimed, scrambling for something to sop it up.

“I’ll get it.” Sun offered, paper towels already in hands.

“Sorry.” She apologized sheepishly.

“This little mess is nothing.” Sun waved her off, adding with a sharper note, “Your potty mouth on the other hand…”

“It’s habit.” Tabby shrugged, taking her cereal to the small table.

He wiped up the spill quickly, throwing the soiled towel away before turning towards her.

“How did you ever work with children?” Sun huffed.

“Sun.” She spoke around a mouthful of cereal. He turned, arms crossed. Swallowing she went on, “I worked evenings, remember? I didn’t work with kids.”

“Never?”

“Well I worked fast food when I was a teen but that’s…” her voice trailed off.

Sun leaned on the counter, “You really should sometime. It’s very….rewarding.”

“You sound like a Facebook mom.” Tabby snickered.

“Oh, how dare you.” Sun’s voice was more exasperated than normal but lacked any true bite. His words caused her snickering to deepen into full laughter. Sun couldn’t maintain his insulted expression, a smile cracking through the facade.

As their mirth petered out Tabby spoke again, eyes downcast as she stirred cereal around, “Well…maybe you can show me the appeal sometime.”

“Hm?”

“Of kids.” She clarified.

Sun froze, smile falling as he processed her words. Tabby continued to eat her cereal, oblivious.

M: She just asked for kid???

S: AAAAAAAAAAAAA

Tabby stood, taking her bowl to the sink. As she rinsed it out, arms suddenly encircled her waist. Tabby yelped as Sun picked her up excitedly, spinning her a bit as his rays whirled.

“What are you doing?!” She held onto his arms, gulping.

“Oh sorry!” He sat her down, smiling ear to ear.

“What got into you?” She asked, face rosey at that sudden contact. She went to put on her coat.

“You just worry about having a good day, okay?” He held out her purse.

“…thanks.” She eyed him suspiciously as she took it, moving to sling the strap over her shoulder.

“Don’t forget the water resistant silicone, I made a note in your purse.” He held open the door for her, fans auditable.

“Will do.” She nodded, giving a small wave as she headed out, still trying to read him.

Sun waved happily back, “You have a faz-eriffic day!”

[wftc141]

Voltron: Global Military Intelligence and Counter-Terrorism Unit-Chapter 14: Search for White Tiger

28/04/2018

Colombia

Another fist landed on his face as Halliday’s vision flashed to what was left of the room’s light. Tasting metal in his mouth, Halliday held his tongue. Torture wasn’t new to him and he had his fair share of being tied to a chair before some paranoid terrorists during his service. The pain was part of the package and so is a swollen eye and the loss of two of his fingers from yesterday. 

Halliday looked up at the man giving him a thrashing, a muscular and tatted-up lieutenant sporting a mustache and a nasty look in his eye. There wasn’t much he could do, considering he was tied to a chair. The lieutenant reached for the tools on the table, settling on a blowtorch. His blood-covered hands lit up the blowtorch, a light yet scorching flame coming out of the barrel.

“You know how this works.” the lieutenant snarled. “You’ll be having another bad day if you keep up this game of yours.”

“I already told you, ya muppet.” Halliday growled, spitting blood at the lieutenant’s feet. “I ain’t telling you a bloody thing.” 

“Enough.”

The voice was enough to catch the lieutenant’s attention. A bloody miracle, to Halliday’s surprise. A figure stood by the door in the shadows. Halliday couldn’t make him out through the light. As the figure approached the lieutenant, he became much clearer. The light-skinned man looked like he came out of a fundraiser for an election, sporting a three-piece suit without a blazer, sleeves neatly rolled up and a tight bun.

“Enough?” The lieutenant curled his lips. “Why? This pinche cabrón killed my men and he won’t spill as much as a breath!”

The man ignored the lieutenant, brushing past him as he approached Halliday.

“Like I told your mate here. I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” Halliday hissed.

The well-dressed man smirked. “There’s no need for that, Lieutenant Damon Halliday.” The British accent caught his attention. “I’m well aware of who you are. Former SAS and now, a Voltron operative that handles off-the-books operations for NATO.”

Halliday went quiet. He couldn’t find the words. This man knew more than he had anticipated and if anything, he may know about his team as well. The man then turned around and glared at the lieutenant.

“You really thought it was wise to bring him here?” He asked.

The lieutenant scoffed. “Relax. We left without a trace.” 

The man then turned back to Halliday with skepticism glowing in his eyes.

“I doubt that.”

________________________________________

29/04/2018

0750 Hours

Colombia

Upon landing in the forest, Shiro and Lance scan the area as they slowly move through the jungle. 

“Zero, this is Blue Lion, how far am I from Red’s position, over?” Lance asked on the radio. 

“Blue Lion, you should be right on top of him, over.” Allura answered from the comms.

“Found him.” Shiro said from behind.

Lance turned towards Shiro who was looking up. Lance followed his eye direction. Above them, Keith was hanging on a tree with his parachute stuck among the branches. Lance began to chuckle.

“That is rich.” Lance said in between his laughs. “Yo, Keith! How’s it hanging?”

“Ha, ha. Fuck you.” Keith flipped Lance the bird, which only made him laugh further in response.

“You need help, Keith?” Shiro asked.

“No, sir.” Keith shook his head as he reached for his knife. “I got it.” 

Eventually, Keith managed to break free from his suit, falling to the ground with a loud thud. 

“Thought the Rangers are supposed to be good at this.” Lance said.

“Fuck off.” 

“Alright, that’s enough, you two.” Shiro cut in, grabbing Keith and Lance’s attention. “We gotta move. We’re meeting up with the Ground Branch team. Keith, get geared up. You got five.”

“Rog.”

As Keith went through his gear up from his pack, Shiro reached for the radio.

“Zero, this is Black Lion. We have found Red Lion and are about to proceed to Hunter’s position, out.”

________________________________________

Allura, Coran, Jeb and Stacy observe the footage from the drone video cam tracking Shiro, Keith and Lance’s positions. Allura notices Coran’s troubled expression, knowing how close he and Lieutenant Halliday are, hoping his friend is still okay. Allura thought about assuring him until Kolivan approached her.

“Your team’s on the ground?” Kolivan asked.

“Yes, Kolivan. They’re on their way to Hunter’s position.” Allura answered.

Kolivan nodded, although Allura noticed his expression was telling a different story.

“Is everything alright?”

He let out a sigh. “There’s something that you should know about Hunter 1 and I… I already told Sergeant Holt about him.”

Allura looks at Kolivan, confused. “Told her about what?”

________________________________________

Later, Keith and Lance continue to make their way to their designation through the jungle as the sun is slowly rising. The three move cautiously to avoid any possible traps or avoid patrols. 

“So uh, these Ground Branch dudes,” Lance whispered, earning a turn from Shiro as a response. “Are they gonna be cool working with us or are they just a bunch of smartass shitstains?” 

“They’re under Kolivan’s command so they should be fine.” Shiro replied.

“I don’t know, man. Spooks are usually buncha arrogant assholes with fat egos and don’t get me started on the SADs.”

“I have to agree with Lance,” Keith steps in. “These guys are black ops. Who knows how they’ll treat us?”

“Well until then, we’re a team.”  

The three continue to walk through the jungle in silence until-

“Don’t move.” 

The group froze as the bushes behind them rustled. Three masked figures emerged from the bushes, surrounding the group though they kept their rifles trained on each other. Keith and Lance, covering the rear, trained their weapons on two of the figures while Shiro had his on the woman. There was a brief but tense pause between the groups before one of the figures behind him spoke.

“Stone… ”

Shiro slightly glanced over. He recognized the code word as one of the many phrases that CIA operatives use to identify each other. However, it was possible that this could be a trap from their attackers who somehow learned their language. But the possibility was less likely since the voice was somewhat familiar to him.

“Stone…” The figure repeated.  

“...Mountain.” Shiro finally said.

The woman in front of him lowered her rifle, as well as the figures behind him. “Whoever answered, turn around.” The voice ordered.

Once Shiro complied and turned around to face the figures, one of the figures in woodland gear scoffed in disbelief before pulling his mask down. Shiro’s mouth dropped as he recognized him as someone whom he thought he’d never seen again.

“Matt?” Shiro said.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Matt cocked his head sideways. “If it ain’t the Great Shiro.” 

“What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you. I thought you left Voltron behind. Didn’t expect you to come back.” 

“Things have changed.”

Matt takes a thought and then starts to put the pieces together as to why Shiro is back in Voltron.

“You came back for her, didn’t you?”

Shiro didn’t answer as he knew Matt was right, especially with how he reacted to Allura being taken hostage in Pakistan a few months ago.

“Thought so,” Matt scoffed. “Come on. Let's go save your guy.”  

Matt and his ground branch team start to walk off while Keith, Lance and Shiro are hesitant at first before following. Shiro felt guilty when he saw Matt again but as a Voltron operative. Keith and Lance were confused when they saw Matt as they knew a semblance of a certain person from their group. 

“Is it me or does that guy look a lot like Pidge?” Lance said.

“That’s because Matt is Pidge’s brother.” Shiro explained. 

Keith and Lance were left speechless when they realized that Matt is Pidge’s brother. Keith remembered Pidge talked about her brother being Shiro’s comrade from the SEALs but never thought that he would look a bit like Pidge and never thought that he was in Voltron. 

“Come on.” Shiro ordered. “We gotta move.”

________________________________________

Back at the hideout, Pidge is in the hallway laying her back on the wall with a doubtful look on her face as she has a lot on her mind.

“Pidge?”

Turning to her right, she noticed Hunk standing there with a worried look on his face.

“You good?” He asked.

Pidge looked away. “Not really.” 

“What’s wrong?”

Pidge let out a deep sigh.

“Kolivan told me that my brother Matt is there in Colombia leading Team Hunter.” 

Hunk’s mouth opened in surprise. “Your brother’s CIA?”

“News to me too.” Pidge replied. “Kinda explains why I’ve never heard from him for years. Now I don’t know how he’ll feel about me working for Voltron.”

“Maybe he's proud of you.”

“Doubt that.”

Hunk then starts to piece it together as he knows what Pidge is going through.

“Problems back home?”

Pidge silently nodded. Hunk sighed as he approached Pidge and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Listen,” Hunk said. “Even if we cross paths with him, just know that you’re still the same Pidge I know. The one who can fight and protect her team. Hell, you were the one who carried my ass outta danger when I got shot.”

“I wouldn’t say that counted since you got captured by the Galra anyway.”

“Kinda thankful for that. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have met Shay and she and those women wouldn't have gotten saved.” 

Pidge gives out a nod with a haft smile as Hunk did make a good point if Hunk wasn’t captured by the Galra. 

“So how are things with Shay?” Pidge asked.

A small blush crept up to his face as Hunk gave a knowing smirk. “Oh, we are going strong, alright. If you know what I mean.”

A chuckle slipped out of Pidge’s mouth as she bumped his arm, prompting a laugh from Hunk. “Okay, I get your point.”

Hunk took a moment to calm himself. “In all seriousness, Shay’s wonderful and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“That’s great to hear, Hunk. Wish you all the best.”

“Thanks…and I hope things work out between you and your brother.”

________________________________________

The team reached the cartel’s hideout where they may be keeping Halliday. Matt and Shiro looked through their binoculars to scope out any guards in the area but found nothing.

“Something’s not right.” Matt stated.

“No guards, no patrol…” Shiro stated. “I hope we didn’t tip them off.”

“And there better not be another mole inside us.”

Shiro gives out a sigh.

“So you know about Brazil?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah.” Matt answered. “Special Activities would’ve long figured out that Sanda was under Galra’s hand but my boss handed it to Voltron, now look how that turned out.”

“At least we stopped them from killing the Triple Frontier government.” Lance said. 

“But this should’ve been stopped sooner.”

Shiro sighed. “Yes but we should focus on our mission. Lance, stay here and provide overwatch.” 

“You too, Hunter 3.” Matt ordered.

“Copy.” Both Lance and Hunter 3 responded.

Shiro and Keith made their way to the hideout along with the rest of Matt’s team while Lance and Hunter 3 got into position. Once the team got close to the house, they noticed two dead guards on the ground. They even noticed that they were shot from inside of the house.

“Black Lion to Zero, Lion and Hunter team are at target compound and ready to make entry.” Shiro reported to his radio. 

Hunter 2, taking point, opened the door and the team stormed the hideout. As the team were clearing the rooms, they noticed the lack of shooting or voices from either room or even in this building. No voices were being heard as the team found more dead sicarios as they were sweeping the house. 

“Fucking hell.” Hunter 2 muttered as she noticed a sicario with two holes in the head.

The team were finding themselves with more questions than answers as they investigated further, finding  more evidence of dead cartel members. Whatever happened here, the team must’ve missed a gunfight. The corpses’ trail led to a room up ahead. The team entered the room and froze upon seeing what was inside.

“Shit.” Shiro swore under his breath.

The team found what they’ve been looking for but not what they were hoping to find as their fears turned true. 

“Call it in.” Shiro said to Keith.

Keith tapped into his comms. “This is Red Lion to Zero. We have visual on White Tiger. Status KIA. Repeat, White Tiger is KIA.”