#they also would just crash on a chair parked near the lab

[couch-house]

lab sleeping arrangements (post sponsored by the way my cat sleeps on my feet)

[angellesword]

PERSONA | KNJ

Kim Namjoon was a smart guy, genius even. But why couldn’t he figure you out?

Alternatively:

"Persona, who the hell am I?”

word count: 2.4k (one -shot) PART OF INTRO SERIES

pairing: professor!namjoon x student!reader

genre & content warnings: kissing, dry humping, smut (not explicit)

The club wasn’t the best place to hang out and Kim Namjoon knew it.

 It wasn’t like he was an introvert. He was actually the life of the party when he was still an undergrad student. College parties were usually held in his frat house.

Namjoon used to be a fun guy, always high and never dry.

 People liked him because of his personality. Everyone envied him for being a thot while still having the highest gpa in class; however, all of this changed when he decided to work at the university right after graduation.

 The thot guy with deep dimples was now known as the annoying and boring professor with deep dimples.

 This was why he knew it was a bad idea to go to a club. He wasn’t welcomed here anymore. Professors like him should be inside the office to work. He couldn’t afford to be seen by his students like this—by ‘this’ he meant that he couldn’t be seen when a girl was straddling his lap, kissing him fervently.

 He couldn’t help it though. You were so hot. Your soft lips felt good on the base of his neck. Your ass—God. He couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling of his big hands gripping your bottom.

 This was wrong in so many levels. You were sucking bruises all over his neck. He could only hope that he still had clean turtle necks or scarf to cover them. Namjoon knew it was inappropriate to show up in his class tomorrow while he was covered with hickeys.

 It was the first day of classes tomorrow. The beginning of new semester. He wanted to paint a new image in school.

 He wanted to appear like a cool professor. He no longer wanted to be called annoying and boring. He wanted his students to see him as a person who didn’t just care about getting As.

 Biology was already a difficult subject for many. College students didn’t need an ass of a professor.

 But change was never easy.

 Namjoon was fifteen minutes late on his first day of class. He could feel the judgmental stares and smirks of his students.

 He was so embarrassed. Namjoon hated people who were always late. He was strict when it came to attendance. There was no grace period. If you were late, even if it was only a few minutes, you would still be marked as absent.

 “Uhm.” Namjoon cleared his throat. He was standing proud and tall. The stern look was back. He wouldn’t let anyone intimidate him.

 “I’m Kim Namjoon, your professor for this—” He abruptly stopped introducing himself when he saw you.

 Namjoon blinked.

 He only drank two shots of tequila last night so he was sure that the girl he fucked in the nasty bathroom of the club was none other than you.

 How could he forget?

 It happened not more than a day ago. He was silently waiting for his drink when you came to him. You were so bold and so sexy when you introduced yourself; the dress you were wearing hugged your body perfectly. Your makeup was also on point—it was so different from the girl he was seeing now.

 You were seated on chair at the back. The empty spots on your either side were empty. It felt like no one wanted to sit beside you, which of course, he did not understand.

 You looked like a sin last night. Right now, however, you looked as though you were a saint. Bare face. Innocent eyes and comfortable clothes.

 You were wearing a knitted sweater and denim jeans. The look on your face made Namjoon felt like you didn’t remember him.

 God. He could only hope that you did not remember him. The thought of you telling everyone about what happened last night actually sent shiver down his spine.

  Just...what the hell would people think of him? He fucked one of his students, for God’s sake!

 Namjoon felt so stupid. Out of all the clubs he could visit, why did he choose the one near campus?

 He must be out of his mind.

  Should he talk to you? Should he force—beg you to keep your mouth shut and forget about what happened? It was a onetime thing, anyway. He didn’t even catch your name.

 He was horny and so were you. You were actually the one who came to him.

 Did you know?

 Did you know that he was going to be your professor this semester? Did you know him? Have you heard about what people thought of him? Were you like them? Did you think he was boring and annoying too?

 “Professor Kim?” One of his students called his attention, pulling him from his train of ugly thoughts.

 “Right.” Namjoon cleared his throat again. He glanced at you once more before proceeding with his introduction.

 Namjoon was the kind of professor who didn’t want to waste time. He consumed the whole three hours of today’s meeting even though it was just the first day of class.

 There was even a pop up quiz so that he could test the knowledge of his students with regard to the subject he was teaching.

 “Park Jimin,” Namjoon called. He was ruthless. He was loudly calling the names of every student so that the whole class could hear their scores in the quiz.

 “Fifteen!” Jimin smirked. The boy was proud since he had a perfect score.

 Namjoon continued the roll call. His breathing hitched when he heard your voice as soon as he called your name.

 “Four,” your voice was soft.

 Namjoon blinked.

 Four? Did you just say four?

 “I’m sorry?” Namjoon narrowed his eyes at you, making you blush.

 “Four.” You repeated, this time your voice was loud and clear.

 Some of the students tried not to laugh. You had the lowest mark. They thought you were stupid. How could you come to Kim Namjoon’s class unprepared?

 Namjoon was also the type of professor who would call the students who had low grades to recite every meeting. He thought that this would force the students to study. 

 “Kim Taehyung?”

The students were surprised when Namjoon simply brushed it off. Normally, he would ask the students to stand and explain why their score was low.

 What changed now? Why did he let you off the hook?

 “Nine.” Taehyung announced his score and the rest was history.

 Everyone rushed out of the door the moment Namjoon announced that class was dismissed. You were the only one taking your sweet time fixing your stuff. It was as if you had no energy at all.

 Namjoon’s heart was beating erratically as he looked at you. He was contemplating whether he should talk to you or just let things be, but before he knew it, he just found himself walking towards your direction.

 The two of you were the only ones in the classroom.

 Namjoon was facing your back so he gently tapped your shoulder, startling you.

 “Sorry,” your professor blushed. He looked like a big baby. Kim Namjoon was tall, the lab coat he was required to wear made him more intimidating. His deep dimples were the only reason why he appeared soft.

 “I’m sorry.” You copied his apology, causing Namjoon to look at you quizzically.

 Why were you apologizing? 

 You flashed an awkward smile before answering him.

 “I know you hate students with failing grades. It’s just that...” You bit your lower lip, trailing off.

 Namjoon knew it was creepy, but he ended up staring at your delicious lips. He wanted to slap himself for being like this.

 He was in school. He should act like a professional.

 “Never mind. I’ll do better next meeting. I promise.”

 Namjoon could only nod. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to confront you about what happened last night, yet you didn’t seem to care—it was as though this was the first time you met him.

 Should he act like nothing happened too?

 That’s probably the best thing to do.

 Namjoon realized that he shouldn’t worry about it anymore since weeks after your first meeting with him in class; you still didn’t act like you would expose him.

 You simply didn’t care about Namjoon. It actually made him think if the thing he had with you was only a dream.

 Except that it wasn’t.

 You proved him this when Namjoon was about to go home. His 8pm class just ended. He was walking in the hallway when you suddenly appeared, pulling him inside the janitor’s closet.

 “What are you doing—”

 You shushed Namjoon by kissing his parted lips. He was so confused, but he couldn’t make a sound because he heard a group of students passing by.

 “I hate Professor Kim so much!” One of the students wailed in annoyance.

 Namjoon’s jaw clenched. He was aware that his students hated him; though this was the first time he actually heard them say it.

 “I’ve been in his class for three fucking semester already! I just want to pass his stupid class!” Another one cried.

 Namjoon felt like he was going to explode. It wasn’t his fault that his students couldn’t reach his standards. He was simply doing his job.

 He wanted so bad to confront them, but you were stopping him—your mouth felt so good crashing against his lips. It was enough to distract him.

 The students didn’t stop ranting, though. They were still talking shit about Namjoon. You, on the other hand, busied yourself pleasuring him.

 “I’m going to give him zero stars in the evaluation sheet!”

 Namjoon clenched his fist upon hearing that. You heard it too, but instead of getting mad, you giggled.

 “Go to hell, Kim Namjoon!”

 “Don’t mind them.” You cupped both of his cheeks while humping your clothed heat against his thigh.

 Namjoon sucked in a breath.

 “You’re a piece of shit, Kim Namjoon!”

 “Focus on me, baby,” you kissed the shell of his ear and he couldn’t help but moan your name.

 The pain and pleasure continued.

 Pain of hearing his students talk shit about him despite him doing his best.

 Pleasure. The pleasure of your sweet mouth and cunt.

 You were amazing.

 Namjoon knew this was wrong. He always knew what was right and wrong, but then again, he still ended up doing the latter—he still ended up fucking you in the janitor closet and the next day, you still ended up ignoring him like nothing happened.

 It frustrated Namjoon.

 He should be grateful, right? You were keeping this a secret. You were acting like you weren’t down on your knees, facing his hips. What a relief. He still had a job. He was still feared and respected by many.

 This should be enough, but why did he want more? Namjoon was so attracted to you he felt his heart breaking every time you ignore him.

 “Fuck,” Namjoon crumpled your test paper. You failed the test. Again. Judging your output, he was sure that there was no way you would pass this semester.

 This frustrated him even more.

 He had an ugly thought. What if...you were only getting him all hot and bothered because you wanted him to give you high grades? If this was the case, then Namjoon was fucked. Doomed. Going to hell.

 He was certain you had him wrapped around your fingers. He would do anything you wanted. You just gotta ask.

 But you never asked—not even when he was rubbing circles in your clit.

 “N-Namjoon!” You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning.

 The two of you were in his office. Anyone could walk in to you right now. Namjoon didn’t seem to care, though. He was lost in pleasure and you.

 You had him all riled up that he wanted nothing but to destroy you.

 You were acting like an innocent slut a short while ago. Namjoon didn’t know where you found the audacity to flirt with Jeon Jeongguk right in front of his face.

 But Namjoon wasn’t sure if he really hated it. He actually liked it when you were bold. He also liked it when you were acting all naive, like you didn’t know him.

 He liked both side of yours.

 However, he realized that he shouldn’t be unfair. He liked you, yes, but you were failing his class. He couldn’t just give you an A, right?

 Namjoon then decided to talk to Kim Seokjin, your coach. The former saw you practicing non-stop with your coach. Apparently, you were part of the school’s swimming team.

 Namjoon figured that the reason why you were failing his class was because you didn’t know how to manage your time. How could you practice five hours a day? Were you crazy? Were you trying to kill yourself?

 And so right after his last subject for the day, Namjoon went straight to Kim Seokjin’s office.

 Namjoon opened the door the moment he got the coach’s permission.

 “Good evening, Mr. Kim. What can I do for you?” Seokjin smiled at Namjoon. The latter cleared his throat before smiling.

 He parted his mouth to voice out his concern, but then no word came out. He was shocked to see you there.

 He didn’t realize at first that it was you who was talking to Seokjin before he entered the office.

 “Hello, Professor Kim.” The corner of your mouth turned up upon seeing his stunned expression.

 Fortunately Namjoon recovered quickly.

 “I’m glad you’re here.” Namjoon nodded at you. “We need to talk,” and then he switched his gaze at your coach. “With your coach.”

 Namjoon didn’t beat around the bush. He immediately told Mr. Kim Seokjin about his concern with regard to your failing grade.

 To Namjoon’s surprise, Kim Seokjin simply laughed.

 Namjoon felt insulted. This wasn’t funny. This matter was serious.

 Seokjin realized that Namjoon misunderstood his reaction, so he apologized.

 “I’m sorry, Namjoon. It’s just that you got it all wrong.”

 “What...do you mean?” The biology professor crossed his arms, his jaw tensing.

 “My dear mentee isn’t your student. I think you’re referring to her twin sister.”

 As if on cue, the door opened—revealing you. You came to pick up your sister.

 Seokjin saw how Namjoon’s eyes widened in complete horror, causing him to laugh again. This kind of encounter never failed to make Seokjin laugh.

 People always confused you with your twin.

 “Namjoon,” Seokjin smiled again. “I want you to meet the twins.”

 Namjoon’s world stopped.

[creepyalienghost]

Doctors assistant

In every town there lays its own legends. Legends of ghosts and hauntings. Legends of aliens and abductions. Legends of cryptids and government projects. And legends of cursed lands. In the town he lived in had many different tales. One tale that happened to be somewhat true was that people were going missing. People’s love ones go out for a walk or running an errand never return. The cops looked hard for each person but they never found the missing people. So many people were missing that there were a missing persons board at that park now. Another tale was about the undead. There’s reports of sightings of the undead roaming in the streets and in the rooms. Some say they had seen them eat and attack people or animals. Others say they had seen a strange figure with them almost like it was leading them. Some claim they been attacked themselves by the undead. A more fearsome legend was that of a humanoid walking though the streets and alleyways at night. It was Dressed all in black and it’s face was white as a ghost. People say it’s death heading its way towards a near deceased person to lead them in the afterlife. Others think it’s the same figure leading the undead around.

Sammy loves reading up on creepy legends around his town just as he loves his music. He would often go to to library to search of different topics and stories on the computer or read a book and newspaper articles on them. Sure he doesn’t believe most of these stories but this like music helped him escape reality from His life at home and school.

The other day he watched a YouTube video of somebody going to explore a haunted house in their area and it gave Sammy the idea to go searching for these legends to. It would be fun to explore and see what lurks around plus it would let him escape his rotten fathers abuse when he would come home drunk. Tonight sadly was one of those nights.

Sammy made sure his father wouldn’t be coming in his room anytime soon to catch him before he packed a back with the items he needs. He stuffed a few bottles of water and some snacks from his stash as well as a flashlight. He dressed himself up for the cool night with sweets and a hoodie then he opened the window, grabbed his bag and hoped out into the night.

He was off down the side walk, heading to the more empty part of town where quit a bit of reporters said the undead was seen at. most of the buildings and houses there was run down or abandoned. No one really goes around there unless for trouble. It only took Sammy half an hour to arrive there. Once there he dogged out his flash light from his bag and flipped it on. It was dark other then his own light. There was no other lights on around and the there was no moon out to light the sky

He looked around him for a second, only seeing the decaying buildings, then chose a direction to go. He believed he was heading south tours the old abandoned school but he soon found out he was wrong when he ending up in the decaying factory. It use to be where their income came from for this part of town but it long since Closed down do to better jobs else were. Now it’s windows are busted out or boarded up, it’s roof is mostly caved in and nature has begun taken back the land. Sammy decided this was the perfect place to explore at and carefully went in though a broken window.

Inside the abandoned factory he looked around his surroundings, finding himself in one of the offices. It was small with only a chair to the side and covered in cobwebs and dust. He stepped out into the long dark hallway and shined his light down both sides of the hallway. To his left were more offices and to his right, were doors to a new area, He went right going deeper into the factory.

After a few minutes of walking around, he heard another set of footsteps echoing throughout the factory. His fear spiked up as he tried to pinpoint where they were actually coming from but it was impossible to figure out. The footsteps seemed to be growing nearer him by the second making Sammy begin to panic. He flashed his light left to right to left again as he remembered what frightening things he had read. Images of Horrible-looking zombies eating away at you and death chasing you though the darkness filled his mind.

Until his light landed on a tall figure dressed in black and white. He only saw it for a second before he went into flight or fight mode. He had chosen flight and took off away from the dark thing. He ran though the darkness as fast as he can and ends up running into something. Something Squishy and slimy. Something that smells like rote He slowly raised his light up to see what it was and what he saw scared him to the core. It was a almost a man but it’s skin was pale blue, it’s it’s eyes was unseeing and he was leaking some kind of black goo from his mouth and injuries. It was an undead!

Sammy screamed and ran away from it, dropping his flashlight in the process. He could see nothing at all he was just running in the darkness with his arms out from fear. He was careless and didn’t realize the floor was soggy and falling apart. The floor underneath him collapsed under his weight and Sammy fell though, hitting the floor hard with a thud under rubble.

The tall dark figure had heard the crash all the way from the old boiler room and had quickly pinpoint its location. Good thing to. Poor thing was hurt quit a bit, his legs and arms have large gashes and his head was bleeding. The being had a soft spot for children and of course he was a doctor. His expertise was on one disease but he knew how to patch up wounds and make sure they didn’t get infected. The doctor picked up the lifeless body of the boy and made sure he was breathing, wish he was, then he checked around his skull as he made his way tours his lab to see if it was cracked. Which thank the heavens it wasn’t. This boy was going to be alright in the long run.

As the doctor laid the boy down on the metal table he noticed some bruising on his wrist. He knew it couldn’t have been from the fall but didn’t question it. Boys do tell to get hurt while playing and it was most likely that. But as he started to clean his cuts he noticed more and more disturbing things. Old little bursts on areas like his arms and neck. Fading scares to from what looks like from whips. The doctor sadly came to the conclusion he was being continuously hurt by someone.

—-

Sammy Slowly starts regaining consciousness. It started with small throbbing pain though out his body but once he shifted to the side a sharp pain shoot though him, making him set up and scream out. The pain was coming from his left leg but the damage was covered up by Bandages. He looked over himself and notice the same for both his arms and other leg, even his head. Someone had helped him out. But they also seen his secret.

Sammy carefully slid off the metal table, making sure he was steady before using his full weight to stand. He quietly limp to the open door on the other side of the room and peaked out. He quickly noticed the sound of breathing and looked at the Direction it came from. The room was mostly dark but Sammy could see well enough the same strange figure from before. It’s back was tours him and it was working on something Sammy couldn’t see, but sure can smell. It smelled like death. Fear begins to build up in him as he watched the thing do it’s work. There were the sounds of wet and sticky slushing noises coming from whatever it was doing that made Sammy want to puke but he force himself not to.

“I know you’re there, child.” It spoke without looking back.

Sammy was caught off guard by this and froze in place. He wanted to run, to get the hell outta here, but his feet were like cement in place, connected to the ground beneath him. He found out his Voice voice wouldn’t work ether. It wouldn’t let him scream nor cry or call out for help. Not a single peep would come out. His body wasn’t reacting the way he wanted it to.

The thing stopped its work, turning to Sammy. It appears to be wearing a 14th Century plague doctor mask but Sammy gets the feeling that it wasn’t a mask. It was his real face Sammy was seeing.

“I sense fear in you” the being said. “No need for fear my child. I do no harm.” The being informed, kneeling down to his height. But the fearful eyes of the boy landed on the work behind him then pointed at the dead body as if proving the being wrong. The being glaze at his work then back at him. “I do no harm for fun, my child. This poor soul was ill.” It said with pain in its voice.

The boy tilted his head. “ill?” He ask. “What was wrong with him?” He replied more curious now then fearful.”

The being admired the child want for knowledge of his work however the being didn’t want to put the boy in danger. Groups like The foundation and goc could hurt him or use him for information. “I think it’s best if you didn’t know child. Besides why are you here at this ungodly time?” The being ask. “Shouldn’t you be at home with your family?”

The being saw the boys curiosity fade back to fear. And at this point the being realized who was hurting the child. “It was them wasn’t it?” It had ask. “The old scars and bruises?”

The boy looked down at his arms for a moment before nodding. “Yes ...”

The being knew it couldn’t force the child back to that horrible place. He couldn’t do that to an innocent boy. The foundation was bad but it wouldn’t put children at harm. At worst the foundation and other groups would make him apart of there beliefs. But they would take care of him if they ever got him. As for the being, he could use an assistant and teach him as well as take care of him.

The being made the decision and held out his hand. “I am in need for an assistant, my child.” He replied. “Would you care to?”

A big smile spread over the boys face and he took the beings hand. “ I would love to, sir!”

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, tabbytabbytabby!

For @tabbytabbytabby, who wanted alive Hale pack and anything alternative universe. MERRY CHRISTMAS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!!!! I decided to go with a rock band AU because let's face it, they're all stupid hot and would look so good doing it. My headcanon for alive Laura Hale is the incomparable Katie McGrath if you want a visual. Those eyes, man. They make my little bisexual heart very happy.

Also everyone here is somewhere in the Kinsey Scale :)))) There will be smut and idiocy. Idiots in love has become one of my favourite tags!

The underage occurs when Derek and Stiles are in high school. Derek is a senior and Stiles is a sophomore.

Band line up is as follows:

Laura - lead vocals Derek - lead guitar Boyd - bass Erica - acoustic guitar and backing vocals Isaac - keyboard and backing vocals Cora - drums and backing vocals

Read On AO3

*****

Edge Of Seventeen

Chapter 1 - Say What Now?

‘Do you want to?’

It took Stiles a few moments to focus on the words, electricity buzzing under his skin and his mouth bruised and still wet with Derek’s spit. Two warm broad hands settled either side of his face and gently redirected his attention. In the dark of the Camaro’s back seat, Derek’s pale eyes glittered.

‘We can.’ His voice was low and rough, his breathing out of kilter. ‘If you want to.’

Stiles looked at him, his heart racing a thousand miles a minute.

I want to.’ he said and fell into another kiss.

The alarm woke Stiles with a start. He swore and leaned over to slide a finger across the screen and turn it off. He’d forgotten when he’d arrived the night before, still a little jet lagged and not quite with everything when he’d collapsed into bed and been asleep in what was probably a record time.

He lay still, looking up at the ceiling and getting his breath back. He hadn’t had a dream about Derek Hale in a very long time and he was chalking it up to being back in his childhood bed. Independence Day had been the one holiday he’d won in the field office lottery, and so Stiles had packed up and gone home for the long weekend, four blissful days off. He’d known going into the FBI would be hard, but he’d had no idea just how hard it would be. Noah was delighted. The last time they’d seen each other had been Christmas and Stiles had been morose after yet another break up. He’d spent an afternoon wandering around the preserve, ending up staring at the Hale house, still closed up and looking a little worse for wear, with nary a Hale in sight.

This time it was summer, the heat already making his room uncomfortable. Stiles grimaced and plucked his damp t-shirt away from his skin, sitting up and dragging a hand over his face as he tried to wake up properly, manfully ignoring his dream-induced erection that made him feel like he was a teenager all over again.

‘Stiles?’ Noah yelled from downstairs. ‘You up, kiddo?’

‘I’m twenty-six, Dad,’ Stiles muttered, standing up and stretching. ‘Not a kid anymore.’

He was feeling it too, the crashing realisation that those carefree days were far behind him. He had a job and an apartment in Sacramento, cacti that he had managed not to kill. All the cool stuff. It wasn’t hard to feel like something was missing but Stiles would never admit that the string of failed relationships he had accumulated were anything to do with what Lydia referred to as ‘the one who got away’.

Noah was in the kitchen as he predicted, sleep rumpled and unshaven in sweat pants and an old BHPD t-shirt. He’d been taking it a bit easier, giving Parrish more and more responsibility. Stiles was pleased and Parrish was both smart and sensible, a combination that Lydia had found irresistible. Their senior year fling had evolved into a long term relationship until Lydia had come home to buy them a small clapboard Victorian near the preserve and commute to the research lab every day where she had her associate professorship. Parrish had presented her with a simple solitaire ring at Christmas and she was very happy.

‘Are you going to see Mom?’ he asked and Stiles nodded, grabbing the orange juice from the ridge and pouring himself a glass, sniffing hopefully at the eggs Noah was scrambling. He noticed Stiles’ meaningful look and grinned.

‘I thought I would go after breakfast,’ He beamed at his father when he was presented with a plate full of eggs and bacon.

‘It’s turkey before you get on your high horse,’ Noah told him. ‘Get your own coffee if you want some.’

‘Not yet.’ Stiles made space for him to sit down and they ate in comfortable silence. Once finished, he did get up to make two cups. Noah accepted his gratefully and smiled at his son, grey eyes twinkling.

‘So…,’ he started and Stiles held up a finger.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t care who it is you want to set me up with, it’s not happening.’ His parents had a terrible habit of matchmaking.

Noah held up both hands in supplication.

‘Not setting you up,’ he protested. ‘Just thought I’d mention that when your mother went into the shop yesterday, she saw a ghost from the past. Several, actually.’

Stiles cursed internally. His dad knew he couldn’t resist a good mystery.

‘Okay, I’ll bite,’ he replied, starting to get up.

‘The Hales.’ Noah replied with all the smugness of a man who knew he had the scoop of the year.

‘Oh fuck.’ Stiles blurted and tripped over his chair.

-

It was the sneezing that woke Derek up.

‘Jesus fuck!’ Laura roared a floor below him. ‘How much fucking shit is in this place?’

‘Oh good, she’s awake.’ Cora muttered and turned over. They were in what had been the twins’ bedroom, each of them crammed into a single that was a little on the small side. The top storey of the house was still a burned out wreck and the furniture had been largely taken away over the years and so the pickings had been slim, with their merry threesome taking the scorched master bedroom and Laura camping out on the sagging couch downstairs. As Alpha, she always preferred to be on watch as it were.

‘This was such a bad idea.’ Derek borrowed deeper into his comforter. ‘We should have brought the bus.’

‘That would have given the game away.’ Laura replied, hearing them both perfectly even though she was now in the kitchen. ‘Which part of low profile are you two having trouble with?’

‘We could have always stayed in a hotel. Sleeping int the burned out remains of our family home is precisely the opposite of low profile. Lo.’ Derek pointed out, sitting up. There was no way he’d be going back to sleep. Not with his alpha on a mission.

‘Discretion is our watchword, Derek.’ Laura hissed and started banging pots and pans around with a maximum of noise. Derek looked over at Cora. Her dark eyes were just visible under the pillow she had over her head.

‘You’re her second.’ She bared her teeth at him. ‘You go deal with her.’

‘I hate you.’ Derek said flatly, rolling out of bed and onto his feet. He stumbled a little on the stairs, still half asleep. Laura had her head buried in a blackened cupboard when he got to the kitchen. It hadn’t been as badly affected as the rest of the house but it was still a health hazard as far as he was concerned.

‘Where the hell is the waffle iron?’ she demanded. ‘Mom said she left it here.’

‘Who the fuck knows?’ Derek yawned and went to the fridge. There was nothing inside except for a gallon of milk and the leftover Chinese take out from the night before. He sniffed a carton of lemon chicken, grabbing some disposable chopsticks from the small pile on the kitchen table, and started eating. Laura eyed him, one fang just visible.

‘We need proper food.’ She glared at the ceiling. ‘Everybody up! We’re going grocery shopping!’

‘Christ.’ Derek grumbled. ‘You think that’s low profile too?’

‘Shut up.’ Laura swept past him, nose in the air. ‘I’m the Alpha now.’

Derek sniggered and let her go, enjoying his leftovers while he listened to her rouse the threesome. There was a lot of complaining, and he couldn’t really blame them. Their schedule had been hectic, even for wolves, and they were all tired and the house wasn’t exactly welcoming. Laura’s plans to come home and reclaim their territory now she was an Alpha in her own right had seen them finish the final leg of their international tour in New York, a quick catch up with their pack and then flying down to Sacramento and driving the three hours to Beacon Hills all in twenty-four hours. They had barely had time to stop in at the small coffee shop near the Sheriff's station before coming out to the house, which had been shut up for the past ten years. Peter had intended to join them, but had been delayed in New York. As their manager, he was the one who took care of all the dealings with their record company. If it was left to him and Laura, they probably would have eaten every executive by now. He was worth every penny they paid him, even if the meeting had probably been manufactured as a way to get out of cleaning up the house.

-

Stiles pulled up at the cemetery, parking the Jeep behind the old truck that had parked off centre and across two spaces. Grinning, he got out and made his way through the iron gates, remembering Isaac Lahey, who’d been a couple of years above him at school. His father had been the groundskeeper before there had been an incident at their house and Coach Lahey had been found dead. He remembered Isaac being taken in by social services and a whole sordid story of child abuse and alcoholicism coming out. Isaac had stayed off school for a week and then simply vanished off the face of the earth. There had been a lot of theories as to where he’d gone, but the truth was he wasn’t the first person to do that in 2011.

Stiles got lost in thought as he meandered between the headstones, finally coming to a stop in front of one made of white marble and embossed with angels.

‘That’s new.’ he remarked. ‘Not sure about the daffodils.’

‘They’re so gaudy.’ The dark haired woman kneeling at the grave grinned over her shoulder at him, her eyes the same warm whiskey brown as her son’s. ‘I’m glad to see you made it out of bed. I was starting to think you’d spend the whole weekend hibernating.’

‘Funny.’ Stiles helped Claudia up and gave her a long hug. When she let him go, she stepped back and looked him up and down.

‘You look good.’ she said. ‘Dare I say, professional.’

‘Mom.’ Stiles settled his hands on her shoulders. ‘Dad said you saw the Hales yesterday.’

‘Oh.’ Claudia’s look of faux innocence was belied by the mischievous twinkle in her eyes. ‘Is that why you came to see me. No ‘I’ve missed you terribly Mother’, but ‘You saw the fucking Hales’.’

‘Mom.’ Stiles narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Did you see him?’

‘Who?’ Claudia crinkled her nose in amusement. ‘The boy you’ve been literally pining for, for almost a decade?’

‘I’m sure he’s not a boy anymore.’ Stiles snorted. ‘And yes. Stop playing dumb.’

‘I might have.’ Claudia tilted her head. ‘What’s it worth?’

‘A double chocolate muffin and all the lattes you can drink.’ Stiles replied and she cackled and linked her arm through his.

‘Done.’ she declared. ‘And you’re right. He’s definitely not a boy anymore.’

-

Derek leaned heavily on the cart, eyelids at half mast and his senses muted. The store was fairly empty, the early hour on a Saturday meaning that most shoppers were yet to make an appearance. Next to him Boyd yawned and shifted on his feet, hands sunk deep in the pockets of his leather jacket.

They’d been best friends a long time, playing basketball and baseball and getting into shit when they were teenagers and when things had turned bad and they’d had to leave, Boyd had been dogged in his refusal to cut ties and turned up at the pack house in New York a week after graduation with Erica in tow. They had walked right in and asked Talia for the bite and she’d given it gladly. Derek knew she was going to do it for Erica even before they had had to flee their territory and they’d settled in like they’d always been pack. Isaac had, of course, already joined them earlier and his delight at having them back had turned into a deep and abiding love that saw them forming their triad and becoming mates.

Erica was leaning on Isaac, her blond curls dragged into a messy ponytail and Cora was trailing Laura a few feet ahead. It always grated that she had inherited their mother’s early rising nature while the rest of them would have happily slept in and threw her weight around to get them out of bed when they most definitely didn’t want to. Even the fact that Derek was her twin didn’t let him get out of doing what she wanted.

‘Toilet paper.’ Laura turned and they all tried to avoid her eyes. ‘Derek. Take Boyd and grab some.’

‘But I’m minding the cart,’ he whined, clinging to it like a drowning man to a life preserver.

‘Go!’ Laura’s eyes flared red for just a second and Derek had to resist the urge to snarl back at her like he’d always used to. The whole alpha thing was new, the result of an overambitious alpha that had come into their territory planning to challenge Talia and ending up facing her daughter instead when they tried to take Cora with the intention of forcibly mating her and claiming rights. Talia had always taught them to solve their problems with diplomacy but Laura was headstrong and fiercely protective of her siblings, ever since Kate Argent had tried to use her to get close enough to kill them all. She’d almost succeeded too, that night of the party to celebrate the basketball teams’ victory for nationals providing the perfect distraction for them to be off their guard. Kate had struck in the early hours of the morning and she’d had them trapped, the beginnings of an arson that would have killed them all if Derek hadn’t come back and caught her. He’d ripped her throat out with his teeth, calling Deaton in a panic to come and break the circle of mountain ash that kept them trapped and they’d all watched their family home burn until the police and emergency services had arrived.

Talia had decided that it was too dangerous to stay, knowing the Argents would come for Derek, getting them all packed in a matter of twenty-four hours and away from what was left of their home. They’d gone to their father’s pack in New York State, leaving no sign of them behind. It was the way with wolves, always having a back-up in case something went wrong. The Argents were a large and powerful hunting clan and there would be retribution for the death of Gerard’s golden child, but when they came for the Hales they would find the place empty. Deaton stayed, both to protect the territory and report back to Talia about hunters coming in and not a month after it had happened, they had come. Thankfully the wards on the Hale land had kept the territory claim in place and the hunters had left with no satisfaction.

The rest had been a long and bloody fight between their respective Councils. Gerard had wanted Derek’s head for killing Kate and Talia had countered with the evidence that Kate had planned to kill a pack of law-abiding wolves along with their children. The matter had finally been settled when Gerard died of cancer and his granddaughter, by all accounts a level headed and honourable young woman about the same age as Derek, had taken over.

The music had started as a way to keep them all sane while this was happening, Talia more or less forcing them into music therapy as a way to deal with what had happened. It had been a bit of a shock to realise they were actually very good at it and they’d formed the band. Some minor success saw them moving steadily up the indie charts until it became their lives. Laura had named them Hale Pack 2.0 and Talia had laughed so hard when they’d told her that she’d shifted and clawed right through the cushion she was holding, feathers flying around them like a small snowstorm.

Derek hadn’t minded at first. The music was what he loved, the fame and money secondary. The Hales were already rich, but Peter had jumped at the chance to do something different and he drove their commercial success. They were in that comfortable zone of being middle of the road, not so successful enough that they were household names but it became hard in New York to go anywhere without being recognised.

Derek didn’t enjoy that part much. He was solitary and quietly sarcastic by nature, but unfortunately that just seemed to translate into brooding and mysterious in interviews and so he was plagued by a long line of would-be groupies that tagged along after him like a cloud of midges. Laura found it hilarious and basked in her own popularity. As an out lesbian, she had her choice of pretty girls to shack up with. Cora kept her asexuality to herself, just as surly as Derek was. The other three were not exactly open about their polyamorous arrangegment, but they didn’t hide it either. They were lucky, having found each other and being able to keep each other.

He often thought about that night, the one where the reason he’d been able to save his family was because he’d been in the back seat of his father’s illicitly borrowed Camaro with the boy he’d loved pretty much forever and indulging in a bit of mutual deflowering. Then he’d had to pack up and leave said boy without even saying goodbye or telling him where he was going. It had hurt more than he’d thought possible and if part of why Derek was so keen to come back to Beacon Hills was to try and track down that boy, then who was to know. The only people who knew what he’d been up to were Boyd (because Derek told him everything) and Laura (because she’d sat on him and tickled him until he’d confessed and then had to hold her while she cried, guilt and shame coming off her in waves). Derek hadn’t had the heart to complain when their very survival had been at stake because he’d killed Kate Argent, no matter whose fault it had been. Talia had said to make a clean break with the town and while she’d made allowances for their friends who were already in the know, that was as far as she was willing to push her luck.

Derek and Laura had finished out their schooling at home, Cora had gone to boarding school in South America with her Argentinian grandmother’s pack and the twins were still too young to be a problem so that was, as they said, that. Then had come college, followed by the band and the success and the travelling and before Derek knew it, it had been almost ten years and he was twenty-eight and still hung up on Stiles fucking Stilinski.

‘Hey.’ Boyd bumped him with his shoulder. ‘You alive in there?’

‘Not really.’ Derek surveyed the toilet paper and grabbed a couple of twenty-four packs. ‘Just thinking.’

‘Yeah.’ Boyd grinned, lighting up his usually serious face. ‘I can guess what about too.’

‘Not a goddamned word.’ Derek growled and then froze, his nose twitching madly.

It wasn’t exactly the same, a little deeper and a little thicker but he’d recognise that scent anywhere with his nose stuffed up and people throwing peppermint oil in his face. He shoved the toilet paper at Boyd and charged through the aisle, needing to find the source and skidding to a halt in the aisle with the candy and stared at the Sheriff, who looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. In fact, as it was he had cookies in his hands which he quickly put back.

‘Derek?’ He looked pleasantly surprised. ‘Claudia said she’d seen you.’ He came over and Derek couldn’t help taking in a deep breath. The scent of Stiles was all over the Sheriff and it made his heart start thumping like a drum.

‘Sheriff Stilinski.’ He took the offered hand and shook it, gleeful when he could smell a little bit of Stiles on his own skin. ‘Yeah, we’re back. Laura said she was going to stop by and talk to you about the house. She’s actually around here somewhere.’ He couldn’t stop smiling. ‘I’m glad you’re still here.’

‘Where else would we be?’ The Sheriff raised an eyebrow at him. ‘To be honest, we never thought you’d come back. Any of you. The last we heard, you mom and dad had skipped town and taken you all with them after the fire and then five years later, you and your sisters pop up playing gigs in New York with the Lahey kid, Vernon Boyd’s son and Erica Reyes and since you hit the big times, you’ve been entirely responsible for provisioning this town with 90% of its salacious gossip.’

‘How did you know that? I mean, New York.’ Derek was completely bemused. They had started out small, playing tiny venues, still wary of being recognised. It had only been in the last couple of years that they’d made it big enough to be known internationally.

‘I kept track.’ The Sheriff replied. ‘The fact that you all pretty much disappeared overnight hit this town like a slap in the face. I called in a lot of favours.’ There was something in his voice though that had Derek frowning. ‘I had my reasons, son.’

Derek was about to ask him what those were exactly when Laura came barreling down the aisle.

‘There you are.’ She came up short when she saw who he was talking to. ‘Sheriff Stilinski?’

‘The one and only.’ The Sheriff tipped an invisible hat at her. ‘It’s good to see you, Laura. Derek and I were just catching up.’

‘Well, I have to steal him. Excuse us.’ Laura gave him a toothy grin that was not her usual smile and Derek wondered just what was happening. She caught his arm and practically dragged him away.

‘What the hell?’ he protested, trying to wriggle out of her iron grip.

‘Hunters.’ she hissed and Derek’s blood ran cold.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked and she nodded, her face grim.

‘The others are doing the check out.’ she said. ‘We need to go.’

-

Stiles parked on the kerb and got out. Claudia already had the front door open and was looking down the street.

‘Visitor.’ she announced and went inside, leaving him to stand and wait for the car to stop. He bounced in excitement, barely waiting for the driver to get out before grabbing her and squeezing her hard enough to make her squeak.

‘Lydia, my strawberry blonde goddess.’ He kissed her cheek soundly. ‘I was wondering when you’d show up.’

‘Stiles.’ Lydia had softened since high school, growing into her intellect and losing the hard veneer of extreme fashion that had been her armour in high school. She was still elegant, but the tan leather boots she wore under her long floral skirt were flat and her face was less determinedly made up, her hair a mass of loose fronds that framed her face. She was also as beautiful as she had always been but Stiles loved her for more than that. They had grown close in junior year when Jackson had moved to the UK and she’d been left bereft. Scott had been dating Kira that year and he’d had little time for Stiles so they’d drifted together and never really drifted apart, in spite of their physical distance. Now Scott and Kira were engaged, with Scott working for Deaton full time and Kira teaching martial arts with their first baby on the way and Stiles felt even more like he was lagging behind. Lydia kept him tied to Beacon Hills as much as his parents did.

‘So what are you doing here?’ He escorted her to the house. Lydia went in first, saying hello to Claudia as they went into the kitchen.

‘I have some news you might want to hear.’ she said, her eyes dancing.

‘’If it’s that the Hales are back, I already know.’ Stiles was smug when she pouted. He so seldom got one over on her so it was fun when he did.

‘Sorry.’ Claudia grinned at Lydia. ‘That was my fault.’

‘Dammit.’ Lydia folded her arms. ‘Well that may be, but I bet you don’t know that they’re going to be playing the Jungle tonight.’

‘No, that I did not know.’ Stiles was immediately hooked. He’d always wanted to go watch them, ever since they’d first popped back up on his radar after years of radio silence, courtesy of a discarded music magazine in the field office. He’d fantasised about meeting Derek’s eyes across a crowded venue but he knew that in reality, Derek probably didn’t even remember the boy he fucked in the back of his sister’s car and probably also had his pick of beautiful people to spend his time with. It hadn’t stopped him from following the band’s progress almost obsessively though.

He’d been distraught when Derek had gone, trying to find any trace of him online, but there had been nothing at all in the years just after the fire. Noah had been cagey about what he’d known and Stiles had been at a loose end, trying to fill in the gaps. When he’d rediscovered them, Stiles had followed them on every form of social media he could and tracked down every article about them. Derek still didn’t have any online presence apart from that and the music videos his band put out. Stiles had jealously hoarded every single tiny piece of information and downloaded every picture and video of him, seeing how handsome Derek had become, growing into himself in a way Stiles envied. He’d jerked off many a night, watching the stylised black and white videos that the Hale Pack 2.0 preferred. Derek was always dressed in black jeans and tight white t-shirts, the sleeves of his trademark leather jacket pushed up to his elbows and his broad hands drawing Stiles’ gaze in as he played his guitar, all precision and power that had Stiles breath coming short at the thought of them on him.

‘Danny told me this morning. He’s practically beside himself at getting them on his books at such short notice.’ Lydia smirked, knowing she had his full attention. Danny had made a ton of money in apps and bought his old stomping ground. It had had a makeover and was now a very stylish LGBTQ+ venue that he ruled along with Jackson as his partner in business and life, once he’d had his gay crisis while he was gone. Stiles knew from the Hales’ publicity that Laura was a lesbian and he was pretty sure Isaac, Erica and Boyd were involved in something that looked pretty polyamorous but Derek and Cora were notoriously private and there was never any suggestion as to who they might be seeing. It seemed the kind of place they would be playing.

‘Okay.’ He moved to the coffee maker, preparing for a long sit down. ‘Tell me everything.’

TBC on AO3!

[jinmukangwrites]

Whumptober Day 16

Hallucinations

Ao3

-o-o-o-o-

"Nightwing, report."

Bruce says it more heartlessly than he means to. Here he is, dragging his eldest child through the grimy streets of the Theater District, kicking up abandoned, soggy pieces of litter as they stumble inch by inch towards the Batmobile, and he asks his barely lucid son to report as he hangs around Bruce's shoulder by a limp arm. 

And maybe it's just the quote unquote emotional constipation in him. Maybe whenever he sees any of his children this out of commission, something inside of him subconsciously crawls away to hide. Turn his face. Harden every single one of his outer layers until the sight of pain in his children's faces just doesn't bother him as much as it probably should. 

It does bother him. He just can't ever bring himself to show it while they're still in the heat of the moment. 

"Chum," he repeats when Dick simply lets out a little mewl. "Can you make it back to the cave?" 

:READMORE:

Dick shakes his head against Bruce's shoulder, pain wrinkling the skin at the corners of his wandering eyes. Bruce noted Dick's been looking slightly off and to the left for the past five minutes. Bruce wishes he could see what Dick sees right now, tell him whatever he's seeing over there isn't real and it's all Crane's fear toxin, but he knows better. He's worked with plenty of victims who hallucinate enough times to know the worst thing you could do was ask them about the sights and sounds they were experiencing. Whether it's illusions caused by drugs or a mentally ill patient in Arkham, asking them to verbalize and explain was just as good as making it a reality for them. 

Bringing it out of their heads and into the real world. 

Judging by how Dick's still managing to get his legs to work alongside Bruce as they walk a little further, the delusions he's seeing must not be fully effecting him. 

"B- I…" Dick swallows and shakes his head again. "It's bad this- this time. I- I don't know if… if I can…"

He cuts off with a groan and Bruce drags them forward ever faster, wincing at the strain of the movement added with Dick's extra weight bearing down upon his wounded calf, sliced open by Scarecrow's scythe not ten minutes ago. 

Bruce has already administered the antidote into Dick's bloodstream, but it seems Crane has altered his formula once again. The most it's doing is slowing down the effects, but Bruce knows that sooner or later Dick will be completely lost to his nightmares, and Bruce will be helpless to do anything but work as fast as he can to create an antidote. 

"Just hold on, chum, just one more street and we'll be in the car, then we can figure all of this out."

Curse Crane for being around long enough to know that Bruce's most important tricks and tricks are within his utility belt. He got a lucky swipe at his hips during the heat of their now finished battle and broke a lot of the wiring he has within the device. The button to summon the Batmobile was broken, and seeing as Alfred was currently out of the country and most of his kids off doing their own things, he couldn't have anyone manually drive the Batmobile towards them. 

He's just glad Damian went with Alfred to England. The lad needed a trip out, and Alfred was happy to suggest bringing him along. Because, while that might mean there's no one to help Bruce while Dick is dosed up on fear toxin like this, it also means Damian won't have to see his eldest brother like this. 

"Br's," Dick mumbles beside him as the place where Bruce parked the Batmobile comes into sight. 

"Yes, chum?" 

"I can't… I- think-"

Suddenly, Dick jerks away from Bruce's grasp, and thanks to the blood-loss in his leg, he isn't quite strong enough to stop Dick from slipping from his hands and collapsing onto the floor, whining and trying to get back to his feet with the strength of a newborn fawn. 

Bruce rushes forward. "Nightwing!" 

He tries to grab at Dick and lift him back up, but Dick yelps and flinches violently like he's been shocked. "No please!" 

And… shit. The fear toxin is finally taking full effect. Of course it's had to happen now, when they were so close to the Batmobile. Within a millisecond, Bruce tries to determine what kind of procedures he'll have to enact to get Dick into the car and back to the cave. Does Dick simply need space? Or does he need to be restrained?

He should plan on restraints. Always plan for every outcome, but prepare for the worst case scenario first. It's a lesson he's forced himself to learn over the years, one he's taught to every child who he's ever mentored and called his own. 

"Please no, please stop-" Dick continues to whimper, slowly stumbling to his feet and backing up like he's one blow of the wind from falling over. "I can't-"

And Bruce moves. As much as seeing Dick like this hurts him, he also knows the longer the toxin is in Dick's system, the more potential damage it could do. It will be better in the long run to ignore Dick's internal struggles and get him to the cave than it would be to not startle him. 

Dick tries to fight him, his breaths coming out in panicked bursts as Bruce grabs onto his upper body and pins him to his chest. Dick immediately begins to struggle, his back to Bruce's chest and his arms trapped between Bruce's restraining ones. He yells out, screams to be let go and left alone, but Bruce grinds his teeth and manhandles Dick towards the car, forcing himself to ignore the pulsing pain in his leg or how he'll definitely have to stitch it himself later.

He gets to the car thankfully without anyone coming out to see what the ruckus was about. People scream all the time in the Theater District despite Bruce's constant attempts to lower the rate of crime. Where in normal cities, people would probably at least look out their windows to see what commotion was about, in Crime Alley it was smarter to keep the blinds shut and the doors locked. 

Shoving Dick into the car takes tremendous effort. Dick's full on panicking now, trying to hit and kick at Bruce with everything he's got, and by the time Bruce has him locked into the back of the Batmobile where the chair with restraints reside, he's sporting a number of new bruises along his chest and jaw.

He shuts the foot and leans against the car for a moment, catching his breath as a wave of dizziness crashes into him. Dick's writhing within the restraints of the chair, screaming and kicking, clawing at any straps his fingers can barely grasp at. 

Bruce sucks in a breath of air, hardens the shell around him, then limps towards the driver's seat. 

By the time he skids to a stop within the cave, Dick's gone from screaming and struggling to crying and heartbreaking attempts to simply curl up. Multiple times during the ride, he's called for Bruce to save him. To swoop in and make the pain stop. Multiple times he apologizes for not being good enough. For always failing. 

Bruce wants nothing more than to tell him that he's here, and that he'll fix this, and that he considers the man Dick Grayson is today to be one of his greatest achievements. Never a disappointment. 

But his vision is woozy and he feels nauseous thanks to the blood-loss, and he knows Dick will be deaf to any reassurances until he has an antitoxin in his system. There is no point in wasting time. Not when he could be spending it curing Dick's fears and then making sure he doesn't bleed to death. 

Because he's pretty sure if he bleeds to death while Alfred is in England, the man will bring Bruce back to life just so he can kill him himself. 

He slams his fingers on the button that opens all the doors of the Batmobile and then stumbles out. He leaves Dick restrained to the chair for the moment while he practically trips over his own feet towards the lab where he grabs a roll of gauze and ties it around his leg. He then grabs the nearest clean syringe, turns, and prepares himself for what he's about to do. 

He takes off his cowl, in hopes a familiar face will make the process easier, but Dick still sobs and screams and begs as Bruce shoves the needle into his arm anyway. 

"I'm sorry, please, it hurts- it hurts-"

He forces himself to tune it out, rushing back towards the lab as quickly as his hastily bandaged wound would allow and begins to analyze Dick's blood. Dick doesn't stop whimpering for the entire process, and by the time Bruce has an antitoxin ready, he's practically numb.

Numb to Dick's constant sobbing and expressions of fear. Numb to his own body. 

Everything spins as he walks like a dead man towards his son one final time. As much as it initially pained him to do, he's glad now that he has Dick restrained like this. He's so weak that he knows he wouldn't be able to fight off Dick's writhing if he were free.

He presses the needle into Dick's neck, ignoring how his cries and shouts become louder, his struggling becoming more violent. However, there's nothing Dick can do to fend off Bruce like this, and soon the entirety of the antitoxin in running its course through his system.

Both Bruce and Dick collapse, Bruce because of the overtaking dizziness, Dick because the fear toxin is now in process of being nullified. 

Dick's still hallucinating, Bruce can tell, but they're not as violent as what they were just a few minutes ago. Bruce can't really look and see through, he can barely keep his eyes open. It's all he can do to lean against the car and rest his head near where Dick's thighs sit on the chair. He can feel Dick twitching every so often, but the twitches become smaller the more time goes by. 

Eventually, Dick's whimpers become nothing more than tired sighs, and Bruce finally lets his eyes close. 

-o-o-o-o-

Bruce wakes up what must be hours later. He knows this, because the chittering in the cave above him is louder, a sign that it's morning and the bats are slowly beginning to return home.

He's laying on his back on top of one of the metal lab tables, various beakers and tools pushed to the side to make room for his body. His entire leg is numb, but not in the way that meant blood-loss and infection, but one that suggested a numbing agent. He groans and gets his elbows under him, wincing at the strain in his spine from the hard surface of the table. There's a tug in his wrist that belongs to an IV hooked to a bag of blood, and when he looks down he can see his leg has been expertly wrapped. Various medical tools lay forgotten by his legs along with a bloodied needle and a spool of medical thread. 

Then, his eyes catch onto a very pale, but peacefully resting Dick Grayson. Bruce has no idea how he escaped the restraints of the Batmobile, dragged Bruce all the way here, and patched up his leg, but judging by how he's absolutely knocked out cold, curled up in a very uncomfortable metal chair, it took a lot of strain for him to pull off. 

Bruce is just glad that Dick managed to escape the restraints after the antitoxin was administered, and not before. 

Slowly, Bruce slides the IV out from his arm and climbs off the table, cautious of his bad leg. Dick doesn't move as Bruce approaches, which is probably for the best. Bruce carefully brushes his hand against Dick's cheek, and finally lets himself feel something when Dick hums sleepily and leans into his touch. 

Dick is twenty-seven years old. But Bruce knows that Dick could grow to be forty, or eighty, or older, and Bruce would always see him as that little eight year old who first somersaulted into his life, the same little boy stood in front of Bruce with a determined set to his jaw; demanding Bruce let him out at night to fight crime.

"Dick," Bruce whispers, moving his hand up a little to sneakily check his temperature as Dick's eyelashes flutter open. "Chum, Alfred will murder us if we sleep all night in the cave."

"But'm comfy," Dick mumbles through a yawn and Bruce finds a grin slowly spreading on his lips.

"No you're not. Come on, up."

Dick groans as Bruce wraps his hand around his bicep to coax him to his feet. Soon enough, Bruce has Dick leaning against his side, arms wrapped around each other to support both of their weights. Together, they walk towards the stairs, dreading the walk up but knowing they can do it as long as they have each other.

[daughters-and-winsisters]

Huntress- Part 23: To Be Saved

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E22 so warning:SPOILERS

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen Part Twenty Part Twenty One Part Twenty Two

(ok so for some reason gifs aren’t loading for me so they’re just stills from now on, really sorry about that I’ve done all I can to try and fix it :/)

The Impala was parked on the side of the road, Toni handcuffed to the door as she sat in a huff in the backseat. Not wanting to be near her when you had a choice, you climbed out and sat on the boot where your Dad and Uncle were looking through all the mobile phones they’d acquired over time. They were trying to contact someone.

“Dead…dead…dead…” they mumbled intermittently, tossing the ones out of charge to the side. After a few more attempts you joined in and began to check for any with battery left. “I got one.” Dad said. You watched a frown fall on his face and put your phone back in the box. He glanced worriedly at you and your Uncle: “Jody.”

Immediately you set off to make sure she was okay. The British Men of Letters were on a killing spree of any hunter they could get their hands on so anyone was at risk.

The journey allowed time for some serious tensions to simmer among the four of you. Not only had Toni practically attempted to kill each of you a few times over, but you had some sort of celestial-enhanced powers that were so far unpredictable and uncontrollable. Although they had saved you more than a few times now, you weren’t entirely sure if they were safe. Especially considering you had no way of taming them thus far. Your Dad kept shooting you concerned looks through the rear-view mirror when he thought you couldn’t see. Neither of you said anything about them, but you could tell he was eager to bombard you with questions. Since the restoration of the bunker there hadn’t really been much of a chance to sit and talk and now wasn’t exactly the time either. Instead, you all sat thinking the same worries over and over while no one dared voice them.

After driving for a while Uncle Dean screeched the car to a halt in Jody’s driveway and the three of you clambered out hurriedly, all taking a quick look just to make sure Toni wouldn’t be going anywhere. “Jody!?” Uncle Dean called, bursting through the door and trying not to let his limp slow him down. Your eyes fell on where Jody sat on an armchair, holding a bag of frozen food to her head wound and black eye while Alex, her adopted daughter, stood over her. Jody pointed to a chair opposite her where Mary sat tied up. She smiled at you all. “Hello boys, Y/N.”

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

Alex was treating Uncle Dean’s wound while he attempted to hold himself together despite the pain. She finished dressing it before taking a whisky glass and murmuring, “I’ll get you something for the pain.” “You better make it a double.”

Mary watched on, her smile never quite left as her eyes lingered on each of you. She watched you the most, as though intrigued. Even though she was the one tied up you couldn’t help but feel like a lab-rat.

Your Dad walked in, holding Toni out in front of him as he guided her to where Mary was. “Do your thing.” He ordered. His eyes were stern and his posture held authority, but you could see he was doubting. You watched as Toni stumbled about herself, her eyes panicked. You knew it.

“She lied.” Mary said to the room smugly. “Mary’s treatment,” Toni began, taking a little step away from you all, “it’s permanent. The Mary that you know is behind impenetrable walls and these ones, I’m afraid, can’t be torn down with grenades.” You held your tongue at the opportunity for an ‘I told you’, aware it wasn’t the time. But, as awful as it was, you felt a sense of relief that they hadn’t formed a reverse treatment, otherwise it would stay in the back of your mind, a constant reminder that you could have had your mother back. Immense guilt rushed through you and you looked down in shame. “Your mother can’t be saved.” Toni said. Although it was aimed at your Dad and Uncle, you felt the words hit you as though you were suddenly years younger and watching your own mother turn to an ice cold killing machine.

“Alright, that’s it. That was the only reason we were keeping you alive…” Uncle Dean explained, cocking his gun and striding over to Toni. His limp was barely visible. “This isn’t going to stop!” Toni panicked, “they won’t stop coming after you and, well, if you want my advice? Run.” “We’re not running.” Uncle Dean huffed. “Then you die.” “Or,” Dad said sternly, “we fight.”

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

They had called every Hunter they could over to Jody’s. Although there weren’t many, there was enough for a fighting chance. You watched them enter, greeting each other. Some were clearly already acquainted whilst others needed introducing. Dad, Uncle Dean and Jody were busy getting down the plans of it all in detail.

But you hung back, watching everyone. You’d been introduced to the American way of Hunting and even though it was clearly the best way to go about it, you couldn’t help but have moments like this. Moments where you felt like an outsider. Dad and Uncle Dean didn’t think so, but some of the other Hunters looked at you funny. Your accent, your knowledge, your experiences, they all stemmed from what they were fighting. Sometimes it felt like they were going to start fighting you also. “You don’t feel like you can join them, do you?” You spun around to where Mary was sat and she smiled at you. “What?” You said, not wanting a conversation with her. “Tell me, do I remind you of your Mom? I heard what happened. Waste of a good Hunter, if you ask me.” “I’m not asking you.” You remarked and turned back around to show you were finished talking.

------------------ “I bet she was cold and threatening. Bet she made you feel all alone. No sister, no Mommy…no Daddy. No one.” You tried to ignore her and picked at the corner of a magazine. “I heard you got powers though, that’s pretty useful. If you joined us.” “Are you recruiting me?” You chuckled, amazed she thought you’d care enough about them to be persuaded. You immediately regretted speaking up. “You’re powerful, Y/N. More than any of them put together. We can help you control them.” “I didn’t spend my entire life to get this far and then make a U-turn!” You spat, “The only reason I’d be anywhere near the British Men of Letters is if I was shooting one. Now fuck off.”

“Oh did I upset you?” She snickered before her voice dropped back to normal. Her head tilted and she asked, “Don’t you get it? You don’t need others. You need people who understand what you’re capable of. You certainly don’t need your poor excuse of a family. All they’re going to do is slow you down and urge you not to use your powers.” You shook your head in disbelief- what a load of bullshit. Just as you were about to look at her to answer back, a “Hey!” made you look the other way, “leave her alone.” It was Dad. He had concern written all over his face, which made you wonder what your face had looked like. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” You said, getting up from the arm of the chair you were on. “You know where I am.” Mary called as you left her. “What did she say?” Dad asked, standing a little too close to you. He was on edge. “Just the usual crap,” You shrugged, “what’s the plan?” You could tell he didn’t buy it, but time was running out to get on the road so he didn’t push. “Basically, we’re getting them before they get us. Just stick with me, alright?” “What about De?” You asked, eyeing your Uncle who was hanging back from the rest. “He’s gonna try and- try and find a way to get our Mom back…” Dad admitted quietly. You looked sadly at them both, “Dad…Toni wasn’t lying when she said there’s no cure. I’m sorry, but there’s just no wa-“ “He’s just trying. We wanna see for ourselves. Maybe there’s something you all missed-“ “You think we didn’t try everything?” You said, feeling angry he even suggested so. “Y/N I didn’t mean-“ “You think we just let her die because we were lazy? We exhausted every possible chance we could think of to get her back, okay? Trust me when I say this: she’s gone.” You could feel tears beginning to form so ended your turn there even though you had more to say. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, you know the most about the Brits and all they do out of any of us. I wasn’t doubting you, it’s just. We have to try. You understand that, right?” You did. You really did. But having to watch more people go through what you did. With the hoping and the determination to the inevitable crash. It was going to be unbearable. In defeat, you nodded. “Yeah. Sorry…” “Okay,” Dad said gently, hugging you close to him, “okay” You hugged back, not sure what to say. If truth be told, you were on edge with everything that was going on. “We should go.”

  ------------------

The cars crashed through the security gates, leaving the guards barely a millisecond to leap out of the way. They stood no chance as you all shot them one by one, sending them to the floor despite their bullet-proof vests. When a guard who had been hiding made himself noticed by spraying the side of the truck with bullets, you felt your Dad’s arm drag you down next to him and Jody so as not to get hit. “Stay here.” He hissed at you, before he and Jody edged their way towards where they could fire. The guard had spotted them and he had already taken aim, waiting for them to make themselves vulnerable. You saw an opportunity to shoot him where he might not spot you and slipped around the back of the vehicle. He was too focused on killing Jody and Dad to even notice you peering around the tyres. Firing one clean shot into the side of his head, he collapsed to the ground. That looked to be the last of them.

“I thought I said stay.” Dad huffed, his eyes shooting you a look that said he wasn’t impressed. “Yeah well, be glad she didn’t.” Jody remarked, shooting you a wink. Your face brightened at her approval. She put an arm on your Dad’s and said, “Let’s move.”

You all lined up just outside where you had planned to blow one of the entrance walls down. The outside of the base looked like containers you’d find on a cargo ship. They were corrugated and stamped with all sorts of codes and titles. They blew off a side wall and the guy up front chucked a smoke bomb inside to cover your movements. “Go go go.” Dad ordered, running in. The others followed. You waited and went in last, planning to watch everyone’s backs and make sure the Brits were double tapped.

You all delved deeper into the maze of corridors, sometimes coming across what looked to be the same dead body as the last one. You began to split off from one another when you’d reach a point with more than one way to go. The same deep red that had flashed when the Bunker was on lockdown was here, taunting anyone still alive. You ended up following on with one of the other Hunters, aware that this was the way towards the back of the base. When the two of you reached another set of corridors you shared a look. “No way, your Dad will kill me if he finds out we split off.” He shook his head. “It’ll be fine,” You said, taking a step the other way, “we have to cover all ground we can’t skip parts just for my safety.” “It’s my safety on the line, not yours,” He frowned, but you could tell he was thinking it through, “oh alright. Just don’t do anything stupid.” “You too.” You retorted, not looking back.

You circled the backways and didn’t come across another guard so figured they must have all been dealt with. Deciding to head for the boss’s main room, you held your gun close to yourself. Every hallway looked the same with their off-white canvas walls and shelves full of things that did God-knows-what to God-knows-who. You kept having to do a double take to make sure you were going the right way. After a few more minutes of twists and turns, your firearm clutched close to you for safety you had found the right place.

Jody, your Dad and just one remaining hunter stood with their guns aimed at Doctor Hess. She was lowering her hands very slowly, her back close to the wall. You walked in, not even bothering to raise you gun and stood next to your Dad. He watched as you did so, silently scanning you over to see if you were hurt. Dr Hess scowled at you, “Brooks. You’re still alive I see. I was just telling your Father how Lucifer is back. And how, by what weaponry and equipment we have, killing me would be a very bad decision. You know first-hand what sort of equipment we have. So, wouldn’t you agree?” You looked over to your Dad who was watching you very carefully. Of all people he had the most experience with Lucifer himself, having been possessed and all. He was probably terrified of him.

“Uh,” You started, loading your gun very loudly and where she could see, “not really no.” Her face had dropped and she was eyeing your weapon very carefully. “Really?” She frowned, a little smile creeping into the corners of her mouth. “Really. They’ve made it without you all these years, they don’t need you now.” You shrugged. “The same could be said for you.” Hess smirked. “What’s your point?” Dad snapped, putting a hand on your arm gently. You twitched with anger, knowing she was right. You felt that same rage from when Toni had gotten angry with you come back. “You should listen to her, Brooks,” Came a voice from the computer, she must have been on-call with someone in a desperate attempt to escape, “you’re not an American. Not really. You’re one of us. Just like your Mother was. Just like your sist-” “Just shut up!” You screamed at the voice, feeling something forceful inside you send the monitor up into flames. Everyone stared in shock.

“Just stop.” You whispered, in shock despite yourself. “These powers of yours,” Hess said, composing herself, “we are the best equipped to help you. To control them.” “I said shut it.” You snapped, avoiding everyone’s gazes.

“Face it, you need us. You can’t face all this alone.” Hess began rambling, trying to come up with a coherent argument before you aimed at her. She then turned to your Dad, “You all need us.” You risked looking up at your Dad and could see he had already made up his mind. He shot you a quick nod before saying, “Pass.” “You bastards!” Hess cried, scrambling for her gun. Without a moment’s hesitation, you shot her right in the forehead, sending her smack against the wall before she slithered down into a heap.

You dropped your weapon to your side and put it back in your jacket, taking a deep breath. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you left the building without a word.

  ------------------

The car journey back was just you and your Dad and you could feel him desperately holding back the urge to ask a mountain of questions. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, just quiet. You were busy picking at the fraying edges of your jacket sleeve when you decided to say something, “Dad?” “Yeah, bug?” He answered quickly. “Do you think it was right, to try and deal with these powers on my own? And for us to just solo kill Lucifer?” “You’re not on your own, Y/N.” He said, a hint of hurt was in his voice. “I just don’t know what I’m doing. I keep accidently using them and one day I’m gonna get someone killed. Or kill myself. Or both-“ “Y/N, listen. Yes, this is scary. Yes, we have no idea what you’re capable of and what you’re not capable of. But that doesn’t mean we can’t get through this. We’ll find a way. I promise.” You watched the road for a while. “Aren’t you scared?” “Of what?” He asked, although something told you he knew what you meant. “Of me…” Dad didn’t answer right away, but when he did it was truthful. “No, sweetheart. I’m not.” “Maybe…maybe you should be though.” “I don’t’ want to be. Me and Dean, we can’t help you if we have to live in fear of you. Besides, I know you’d never hurt someone unintentionally.” You nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Instead, choosing to stare at the blur of road markings and trees out of the window.

After quite some time of driving, your Dad voiced something you weren’t even sure he’d ever say. “I’m sorry about Mick.” You looked at your Dad, a little taken back. Mick had been shot. Mick had been your step-father. He was pretty much the only bearable one of the British Men of Letters left. You didn’t really know what to say, but thankfully Dad added to the conversation for you. “I know he married your Mom. Helped raise you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, managing instead to stifle a laugh. Dad noticed your expression and frowned, “What?” “Mick was nice and all, but he didn’t raise me or Max. To be honest we mostly raised ourselves. Mum was busy, you know? Helping out with hunts and making sure Mick didn’t get himself killed. She loved us, but she didn’t plan for us. It was just bad timing…but yeah. Mick didn’t really do much.” Dad nodded, careful with what words he chose as not to put you off opening up to him. “I guess I just feel a little useless, you know? I mean, you’re already so grown up. And you’re a good hunter. I just wish I was there for it all.”

You’d never really thought about that before. You were so focused on missing out on having a Dad you never realised he had missed out on having a daughter…having his daughters. “Dad…you’re never gonna teach me to talk and walk and you can’t hold my hand on the first day of school. But you can still be a Father. Being a parent isn’t valued by the milestones you’re there for in their childhood. It’s just being a Dad,” you smiled at him, watching him listening intently as a smile grew on his face, “and you’re pretty great at that.”

Part 24

Masterlist I do not own these gifs (Tag list after cut )

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[docfuture]

Princess, part 8

     [This story is a prequel, set several years before The Fall of Doc Future, when Flicker is 16.  Links to some of my other work are here.  Updates are theoretically biweekly–going to try to get the next one out by mid-March.]

Previous: Part 7

      Journeyman ran his fingers through his hair and sighed as he looked at the picture Flicker sent to his handcomp.       "Yep, that's her," he said.  "Dr. Reinhart has a rep of knowing a lot about how minds are put together--and how to take them apart.  She seems to be effectively immune to mental influence and hostile probability manipulation--no, I don't know how she manages that--and I've heard enough complaints to believe that she can mess up Diviners and Seers just by being near what they're trying to see.  Not sure about Oracles.  Also, she's hard to kill.  If she's willing to help you, I doubt she'd be a weak point."       "That sounds good.  Except that the Database says her specialty is mind control.  But I guess she concentrates on defense?  That part wasn't clear."       "A lot about her isn't clear," said Journeyman.  "She is very good at using fear, though.  General opinions I hear about her are mixed.  I have connections, and while I keep them private, the general idea isn't a secret--I swap gossip, assistance, and so forth, move things around, and link people with what they need, all fairly quietly.  Dr. Reinhart clearly has connections, but nobody knows how they work.  She can show up somewhere, have coffee with a few folks, and sometimes everything stays quiet, and sometimes all hell breaks loose.  Odd accidents, fits of madness, sudden unexplained deaths from no obvious cause, and occasionally 'Blood--blood everywhere!'  And afterwards the details of what happened don't always add up.  Except usually some grim entrenched problem has disappeared.  That part is acknowledged, but she still really puts people on edge.  Oh, and there are rumors that she's seriously annoyed several intelligence agencies, but they're still trying to hire or co-opt her.  Jumping Spider would know more about that than me."       "Well, I needed to talk to Jumping Spider anyway."  Flicker frowned.  "Anything else?"       "I don't doubt Dr Reinhart's competence to advise you about social interaction."  Journeyman looked down.  "Motivation, methods, side effects?  That's over my head, but I would expect some warnings from your AI."       "Why?  Just her reputation?"       "Well... I know Doc is twitchy about mind control, and Dr. Reinhart apparently has issues with his methods.  And the spy stuff."       "She has a negative threat index--that means she's helping.  Doc is pragmatic about that."       "Up to a point."  Journeyman spread his hands.  "Anyway, that's what I can tell you.  Hope it helps."       "Yes."  Flicker sped up to virtual type a response to Dr. Reinhart, then slowed back down again.  "There.  She's traveling, and pretty inflexible about privacy, so it will be at least a few days before I can meet her, regardless."       She stood up from the high speed interface station and glided over to stop in front of Journeyman where he sat on the couch.  He watched her warily.       "Thank you," she said, and paused.  "I'm willing to at least consider rescheduling Speedtest, but I don't want to argue about it right now.   You don't feel safe here and you probably need sleep.  How much did you get last night?"       He shrugged.  "A few hours before you woke me up.  None since."       "Then get sleep, consult your Diviners or whatever, and we can talk more tomorrow."       "Might take a while to find anybody.  If I even can.  Tracking down Diviners is rarely easy."  He looked away.  "And Flicker?  I don't want to argue about it at all.  I'll send what I find to the Database.  Argue with Doc, or Jumping Spider, or Jetgirl, or whoever you need to.  Not me."       "I don't..."  Flicker stopped and swallowed.  "Argue isn't the right word.  It's just the one that sounded human to me.  And my anger isn't really at you, that's just where I attach it.  I think there's something wrong with my human emulation."       Journeyman shook his head.  "No.  Humans make mistakes, and they get angry, and no one should expect anything different.  Least of all me.  This isn't something we can solve.  Sometimes you can't get from where you are to where you want to be."       "And what I want is the problem."       He waved his arms.  "No!  I'm the problem.  I thought I could still finesse a way through, despite everything stacked against it, and I. Was. Wrong.  And that's why I have to go."       "Partner..."  She stopped again.  "Damn.  Having an emotional reaction to that word."       "...Yeah."  He blinked then raised his hand.  "I'm sorry I don't have any magic words for you.  Primum non nocere is all I've got left."       Flicker pulled off her glove and reached out to complete their fingertip touch.       "Take care," he said.       She couldn't find anything to say.  So she just nodded.  Journeyman took a deep breath and teleported out.       A faint whirl of disturbed air, then nothing.       Flicker looked around the room.  It felt far emptier than was reasonable.       *****       Evening back home, pre-dawn in Kenya.  Flicker didn't want to wake up Jonathan or his family, but Chaser was awake and running to greet her as soon as she slowed down.  Flying tackle and friend bites and his ridiculously tiny meow, and they played chase dance and dangle the fuzzy toy the way he liked.  Then he flopped down on her feet and purred as she held him.       Chaser wasn't her cat.  He wasn't anyone's cat.  He was his own cheetah.  But Flicker had rescued him as a kitten, taken him far away from the lions that had killed his siblings.  It wasn't clear what had killed their mother, but life was full of perils for cheetahs, especially when they had to share shrinking habitat with lions.  He stayed with the family of a park ranger, on land Flicker had purchased next to a wildlife reserve.  Extravagant?  Maybe, but it wasn't hard to figure out why she'd identified so hard with an orphan who had social problems with other cheetahs.       Time zones made visits awkward, and they still hoped to reintroduce him back to the wild someday, but in the meantime she could hold him close, and whisper that he was a good cat.  He purred and didn't mind her tears from trying to accept a present that had crumbled unexpectedly, and a hoped for future that had been a mirage.  He didn't judge, didn't care whether she was human or not; she was just his fast friend.       An hour under a slowly brightening sky made the world a slightly better place.  Still not good, but better.       *****       Later evening.  Ghosting through the darkness at 500 kilometers per second.  Flicker was moving fast enough to be effectively invisible, but slow enough to leave no traces behind her.  It fit her mood--she didn't particularly want to be anywhere.  But there was someone she needed to talk to at Doc's.       Superhuman speed implied a superhuman ability to interrupt.  So Flicker and Doc had worked out a protocol that allowed for degrees of urgency and desire to avoid disruption.  'Open door' had a particular implication because of Flicker's dislike of them.  It was a way for Doc to indicate that she could join a meeting in progress, but it would be polite to wait and listen quietly until an appropriate pause, absent an emergency.       At Doc's.  Flicker entered the recovery room next to one of the med labs, sat in one of the chairs, and slowed down.  She didn't say anything.       Jumping Spider was sitting up with her left leg extended.  Something complicated covered the knee--it looked like one of Doc's support and monitoring minibots.  Doc was frowning at a large display showing... Not her leg.  Her left jump boot.  Which wasn't in the room, though her spare pair was.  A quick Database check showed her main boots were down in one of the big fabbers in Doc's workshop being repaired.       "...crash cushioning cells seem to have handled the landing fine," Doc was saying, "and at least blunted the impact. Still..."       "They did the job," said Jumping Spider.  "Sometimes a gust of wind hits you at just the wrong time, and one did, right after I'd hopped off the roof."       "The fourth story roof.  Over icy concrete.  In a blizzard."       "Yeah, it was Tuesday.  Wednesdays are overpasses.  Hi Flicker."       "Hello.  What happened?"       "Nothing major.  I banged up my knee a little yesterday and used the crash guards on my left boot.  Doc's going to give the boots a checkup, recalibrate the jump jets, and--" She turned her head to look at Doc. "Not stay up all night making minor improvements.  Right?"       Doc raised an eyebrow.  "I am most definitely going to run unit tests after the tuneup and the data updates."       "That will only take an hour or two.  And Flicker wants to talk to me anyway."       Flicker didn't understand how Doc's relationship with Jumping Spider worked, except that it did.  It was close, but they usually saw each other only a few times a month.  Jetgirl described it as 'co-conspirators with benefits.'  There had to be more than that after almost two decades, but Flicker didn't get how most more typical relationships functioned either.       "All right," said Doc.  He nodded to Flicker.  "I'll give the two of you privacy, then."       "Thank you," said Flicker.       Doc must have read her expression--or more likely her 'No personal small talk currently welcome' Database flag--and left the room without further comment.  Jumping Spider pulled the swivel arm table with a Database interface over so she could use it.       "We're secure--privacy locked," she said.  "Yes, from Doc too.  Check."       DASI was insistent on leaving up the warning flag on Flicker's visor about limiting Doc's access in his own HQ, but she confirmed the privacy lock.       "Verified," said Flicker.       "Now we can talk," said Jumping Spider.  "My knee isn't much worse than usual.  But I heard you are.  Doc says you seem determined to push a hazardous test series on short notice and you don't look happy.  Did Journeyman just turn you down or did you manage something stupider?"       Jumping Spider could be tactful.  She usually chose to be blunt with Flicker.  They weren't friends, but Flicker tried to listen to her advice, because she was right far too often to ignore.       "Both," said Flicker.  "I don't think I have a partner anymore."       "You don't think?  Want to tell me what happened?"       "No.  But I should.  I'd been pushing patrols for a while and was off duty yesterday when I got an alert that Hermes was back..."       Flicker summarized the mess of the last two days, with a pause while Jumping Spider watched the vid of the handover of Hermes at the Box.  It was even less pleasant to explain than she'd expected.  She had to bounce up to speed mind several times to maintain her composure while staying on track.  Jumping Spider said she would save any questions for later, which was just as well.       "...and after he ported out," Flicker finished, "I did memory assimilation work, then visited with Chaser until the Database told me you were available.  It's been a long day."       "It sure has," said Jumping Spider.  "The Database security AI called me for help.  It needed a human other than Doc with the right clearance level bad.  You ignored warnings, bypassed the blocks, and managed to set off a cross-domain priority conflict and a legacy conflict this afternoon.  Why settle for one crisis at a time when you can have more?"       "Um.  Those were for something that actually helped."       "A book that flaunts that it's full of traps in the dedication and you're sure it helped?"       "Well... I'm running sims."       "Yeah.  You do that."  Jumping Spider smiled sardonically.       "Why was the cross-domain priority conflict so bad, anyway?"       "Because the AI was forbidden from telling Doc about something in one domain, and required to tell him in another--and he's normally the one that resolves those conflicts.  And you were no help, because you were causing it.  So it had to call me, because I was the next person in line with clearance.  I figured I'd better drop what I was doing to deal with what you stirred up.  Doc was already on the way to get me when you sent your message about Dr. Reinhart--his flying car does come in handy sometimes.  And I have heard of her.  But I need to do some Database poking before I'm willing to make a judgement, so are you up for doing some tedious but necessary work to help me fill in a few holes?  It would make up for what I had to drop, and let me test something."       "Depends.  What kind of work?"       "Spying.  Under the direction of someone who knows what she's doing.  That's why most of it will be boring.  But it will also involve a lot of purposeful running around, which I'm guessing you could use.  You've amply demonstrated how fast you go stir-crazy.  I want to double check some clues to whatever was wrong at the Box that they didn't want you to see, and have you take a quick look in some other places.  I expect a lot of verification of negatives, or whatever is in the Database, but I have a nasty suspicious mind and suspiciously nasty things have been happening."       "...Yeah.  Okay.  It'll be slower in the dark, though."       "Oh, some parts will be in daylight."       Flicker waited a moment, and the Database projected the outline of a list that was far too long to fit on her visor display.  It started with a survey of just who was staking out the home of the magician she'd talked to at the Box, and included whole sets of vehicles and buildings associated with spy agencies and less identifiable groups.       "All right," she said, and headed out.       *****       Flicker settled into a rhythm.  Slow down, take action, verify, speed up, move on.  And consider her life, while she moved.       Human--for some value of human that was possible for her--was part of what she wanted to be.  Speed and motion were a much bigger part of who and what she already was.  Human was an illusion, an emulation.  A load bearing one.  Maybe even a necessary one, in the long term.  But she wasn't good enough yet.  If the last few days had proved anything, it was this.       She'd read various versions of a joke about how many people stopped growing up and just started faking it after about age fourteen.  Even humans sometimes had to fake being adult humans.  And that went to the essence of what she thought Journeyman had been trying to say.  For her to connect, to feel, to be the person she wanted to be, meant being socially human.  But to relate as an equal, as a full partner, as... well there weren't proper words, but to connect fully with him meant being a responsible adult.       And Flicker couldn't manage both at the same time.  Not yet.  She could fake it for a while, but push too hard?  Add the stress that came with being who she was in the world she lived in?  Her emulation broke down.  Humans used age as a proxy for responsibility, and she'd been fixated on the unfairness of that.  But all the advice, the common wisdom, assumed you were human.  And social support was centered on 'normal' human, for an extensive and arbitrary set of dimensions of normal.       But if she gave up on human, if she fully accepted that there was no one like her, that she was alien to this world of odd bipeds, she risked finding the breaking point of the fragile thread of empathy that connected her to that world.  Because they could be so foolish, so cruel to one another, so ignorant, so blind.  Doc had always been very clear about the danger in that.  And the Volunteer had spent a whole day talking her down from the edge, after her big fight with Doc, when she'd wanted to act, to treat the world like a dysfunctional terrarium that cried out for intervention to stop the evil, the oppression, the war, the starvation and brutality and shortsightedness and indifference, all the so very unnecessary pain, outside the narrow range of actions allowed for a superhero.       The most frightening part of that day had been seeing the edges of some of the Volunteer's load-bearing illusions.  The ideals that let him help the things he could, as an alien in a world of humans.  But those illusions couldn't be hers.  Because she was more alien?  She didn't know.  She did know they'd broken others who had tried.       She needed to find her own way.  While she could still care.  Because if she stopped caring, it would be way too easy for her to go over any one of several edges.       Maybe Dr. Reinhart could help Flicker find better ways to connect to humans.  But she also needed to learn more about who, and what, she already was.  The limits and idiosyncrasies of her power and being.  Doc hadn't stopped her experiments because they'd reached any firm conclusions.  He'd stopped them because they'd become too dangerous to continue on Earth.       How fast was she, really?  What new realms of sense and ability were beyond the limits she needed to maintain on Earth?  The aim of Speedtest was to find out.  It was the only thing she looked forward to now that was truly hers.  It was past time.       *****       More than an hour and numerous additions to the list later, Flicker was finally done.  She'd spent a lot of the extra time following up discrepancies in Italy.  There was a messy but still relatively quiet political crisis going on there, triggered by some combination of Hermes' rampage in Rome, the identity and contacts of the now dead magician who had summoned him, recriminations over the botched response that had resulted in his death, and a long-simmering conflict over the reasons that Italy didn't currently have any resident superheroes.       She'd taken a brief moment to ghost over to the shop in Florence where she'd gotten takeout gelato with Journeyman to celebrate first becoming partners.  It was still closed in the first hint of dawn light.       Sentimental human indulgence.  Was there a point?  Maybe there would be again, someday, a time when it would mean more than something she'd thought she'd lost, but never really had.  But for now, it was closure.  Acceptance.       She headed back to Doc's HQ and decided against speeding up.  Speedtest would be soon enough, and there was no point in leaving a bright plasma trail that could set off alarms for satellite watchers who might wonder why she was hurrying across the Atlantic at night.       *****       "I recommend that you agree to Dr. Reinhart's conditions," said Jumping Spider.  She sipped from her coffee cup and eyed the Database display in front of her with mild disapproval.  "She's right about the amount of inconvenience adjusting her work around advising you will be."       "You think she's safe?" asked Flicker.       "Heh.  No.  I think she's followed consistent goals, and she's functional, competent, as expert as you're going to get, skilled at error recovery, and very smart.  Smart enough to understand just how vital and risky giving you psych advice will be.  But don't try spying on her.  She didn't think much of your failure to consider the consequences of stalking Journeyman."       Flicker frowned.  "How do you know that?"       "I talked to her while you were gone."       Jumping Spider paused, waiting to see if Flicker would ask a question.  She sped up.  Her human emotion emulator indicated her nominal reaction would be anger or irritation.  Human emotions weren't serving her very well lately, so she ignored it.  It would be a drop in the bucket compared to everything else, anyway.       DASI?  Anything security relevant that I need to know about Jumping Spider contacting Dr. Reinhart?       No.       Well, that was unambiguous.  She'd asked Jumping Spider for her professional assessment as an intelligence expert, and it was clear she was testing Flicker's self-control, too.  She slowed back down.       "Go on."       "It was an illuminating conversation.  She referenced some of my more subtle tradecraft tricks like an academic being careful about citation footnotes.  If you focus on her advice rather than trying to emulate her, respect boundaries, and maintain a healthy level of skepticism about untested theory, I think her aid will help you.  Once she's ready to meet--it will be at least a week."       "Good to know.  Thank you.  Was the information I verified for you helpful?"       "I don't know yet for most of it.  But your performance was technically adequate while under direct supervision."       Jumping Spider had no qualms about hammering at a point or reminder until she was sure it got through--in this case that Flicker was still bad at the judgement part of spying, however technically skilled she might be.       Flicker nodded.  "Any other suggestions or comments?"       "Do you want my assessment of what happened to Journeyman?  It's speculative, and you may find it upsetting."       "I don't ask for your opinions because I think I'll like them."       A snorted laugh.  "Okay.  I think Hermes' arrival was part of an op, and was deliberately timed to coincide with whatever Journeyman did just before exfiltrating.  I also think we're unlikely to ever get enough evidence to prove that.  From an operations viewpoint, I think Journeyman got entangled and dragooned into something far more dangerous than he'd ever voluntarily agree to, but all sides--and I definitely think there were more than two--in the conflict that might have wanted him dead knew he had your backup, and that's why he lived.  Tell me.  If demons had killed him in some dimension you could get to, what would have been your first impulse?"       "Burn it to the ground, then burn the ground," said Flicker.       "That's the sort of thing Oracles and Seers pick up on.  But since he came back alive, you're much less inclined to do anything disproportionate, right?  Because attribution is much tougher, even if an attack is aimed at you or Doc.  And there will be probably be completely uninvolved people living in the same place even if you do know who is responsible."       "...Yes."       "That's also the sort of thing Oracles and Seers pick up on.  I also think that whoever Journeyman believes is your mother is part of one of the sides, and that an opposition tactic that he fears is a framing attempt to deflect any retaliation onto her.  And he got dragged deep into the wilderness of mirrors, no longer fully trusts his own judgement, and didn't want to drag you there, too.  I'll give him credit for that."       Flicker sped up to consult the Database.  'Wilderness of mirrors' was an intelligence term for living in a state of perpetual uncertainty about a messy mix of hard to attribute hostile action and coincidence.  Just the sort of thing she hated.       "Great.  So, was he being deceptive about--No. There's no point it getting angry about any of it again until I can talk to Dr. Reinhart."       "You're learning.  And you stopped Hermes without killing him or anyone else, Journeyman got back alive, you didn't lose it when he disengaged--which was inevitable--and it's much harder to attack someone who's in a different dimension.  And you know who is at home in the wilderness of mirrors?"       "You?"       "Dr. Reinhart.  I do all right, but I suspect you'll get along better with her."       "Okay.  Thank you for your assessment.  Do you think I should delay Speedtest because of Journeyman's warning?"       "Because of his warning?  Are willing to put it off indefinitely?"       "No."       "Then no, because he didn't tell you anything actionable.  But whether it's a good idea at all is not my call.  Talk to Doc."       "I will," said Flicker.  "Jumping Spider?"       "Yes?"       "This was... less unpleasant than talking to you usually is."       She smiled.  "Don't worry.  I'll make it up to you next time."       Flicker shook her head, but felt her mouth want to twitch in response.  Human wasn't something you could just turn on and off...       She headed out to find Doc.

Next: Part 9

[rovvboat]

Painted Flaws - Colossus/Piotr Rasputin x villian!Reader

Part 10

A/N: send an ask if you wanna be added to the taglist! Lmk how you feel about this series!

Summary: You’re a villian with a moral grey area. You meet Piotr at an art exhibit, but both of you are there for completely different reasons. Though the attraction was inevitable, will it be enough? A growing passionate love wrought with secrecy, both of you try to move through this maze. But when the ball drops, what will you choose?

word count: 3.3k

You lie in bed the rest of the day – the same scene repeating through your head; like the world’s worst silent film; of Piotr and his form as Colossus. And with that flicker of recognition, you realise just how much more you’re entangled into the X-Mens’ affairs – how much more you were set-up to be the catalyst for their demise.

There’s a moment when sleep catches up to you, somehow, despite the headache of thoughts.

You see him.

He’s standing in your room – the colours on the walls all distorted into a deep and ugly purple and pink – blending into every piece of furniture, fluid and balmy in its touch – as if it was all happening underwater

but Piotr doesn’t seem happy to be there; his face twisted into one of disgust and disappointment as he faces you.

Piotr I can explain –

You try to speak, but no sound come out no matter how hard you try. You bring a hand up to your throat, and that’s when you look down and realise: you’re naked.

Your hands springs onto your bed, pulling desperately at the sheets to cover yourself – trying your hardest to scream your heart out at the same time, just for Piotr to listen to your pleas – but the sheets don’t come out, and neither does your voice.

Piotr, all of a sudden, has his back turned to you, walking out of your apartment as the door shuts with a loud creak.

The sheets finally spring out of the bed, and you scramble to get them to cover you.

You run to the door, swinging it open – but he’s no longer there. He’s no longer waiting.

 You wake up in a cold sweat, gasping as your eyes shoot open. You sit up on your bed, beads of sweat run down your back, sending a vaguely uneasy sensation down your spine. You look to your window, yanked wide open, as it swayed back and forth with heavy screeches.

The weather outside matched your sentiment – heavy thundering rain crash against the surface of the outside, alongside the ghosts of howling winds that sent sprays of rain onto the spot where the calm moonlight would normally hit.

You rub at the tiredness of your eyes, unravelling from the nightmare that had awoken you so terrified, before getting up to shut the window close.

It wasn’t in your nature to feel fear – where it wasn’t used as fuel to succeed on your missions – but you knew how far gone you were with Piotr.

To have felt his love, and to be brave enough to love him back – that was a risk in and of itself, and you knew it.

But now that his truth has been bared –

where does that leave me?

Your phone buzzes against your bedside table – and you turn to look at your notifications, somewhat tethering you back to the present.

10 unread messages

[Dd]: hey, I’m locked out of my apartment – could you come give me the spare key?

[Dd]: hey

[Dd]: heyyyyyyyyy

[3 missed calls from Dd]

 You immediately hop off your bed, stretching your arms over your head as you let out a high-pitched whine.

This is no time for a pity party.

You wash yourself up and immediately suit up – throwing on a thick white t-shirt, paired with a black leather jacket as you hurriedly grab your keys (and DK’s spare keys), wallet and the purple vial. You put the purple vial into a small black drawstring bag – your grip tight on it as you walk towards your motorcycle.

You revv the engine – booming down the street – before speeding off towards the direction of D.K.’s dorm.

***

NTW fiddles with the interface to the hologram, bringing up profiles of people with their physical and affiliation descriptors.

‘’We were able to track the manufacturing company of the spear that hit Colossus in the back. It belongs to a small company called Lazarus – which has ties to the creator of the Sentinels, Dr. Bolivar Trask,’’ – she swipes at the hologram to reveal Dr Trask’s profile, ‘’who is also linked to this man.’’ She swipes at the hologram again, but this time, the profile showed a silhouette of a man with a question mark in the middle.

Name: Unknown

Alias: Boss, D

Affiliations: Sentinel technology, Dr Bolivar Trask

‘’We don’t have any idea what he looks like, but he’s been linked to dozens of mutant testing labs and sentinel technology. He also does seem to have a weak link.’’

A picture of the mystery lady comes up, half her face covered under a thin fabric of her turtleneck.

‘’We’ve been tracking this lady for past 3 months and we just came in contact with her again. Intel tells us that she had the serum on her at that time, but we’re pretty sure she was to hand it off to her boss after she fled on the helicopter. The Sentinels also had their eyes on her, but she managed to evade them when we were too busy keeping them down.’’

‘’So, what you’re telling me – is that we’ve been helping this lady get her way?’’

NTW rolls her eyes at Deadpool.

‘’I’m just saying what everybody’s thinking, sugarplum. She doesn’t seem like that weak of a link to me – going by how she kicked half our asses out there,’’ Deadpool lightheartedly brandishes one of his katanas around– pointedly at Cable and Colossus – as he lay sprawled over the sofa.

Cable tenses his fist on the table, uneasy at the prospect of having this mystery lady getting in their way of getting the anti-mutant serum.

When an idea pops into his head.

‘’Where’re you headed, foxy pops?’’ Deadpool quips, as Cable stands up – pushing his chair back with a screech – and strides over to NTW.

‘’Do you think we could scan this for prints or DNA?’’ Cable presents his metal hand, swaying each finger in a wave. ‘’I burnt her hand, and I’m sure some of her skin is on here.’’

‘’Sounds like something I could do.’’

‘’Holy Mother of God, all we do is sit around trying to track this woman! I wanna go do something fucking worthwhile!’’ Deadpool howls.

‘’You’d be doing us all a favour by shutting the fuck up, douchepool,’’ NTW crosses her arms as she stares at Deadpool.

‘’Suit yourself, one-man travelling circus of megatronic teenage big head,’’ Deadpool stands up and steps directly infront of NTW, staring her down.

‘’Enough.’’

Colossus’ booming footsteps enter into the meeting room.

‘’You are not children. There is no need for this nonsensical bickering. Come, Wade. We will do some review of the evidence from the helicopter weapon.’’ Colossus instructs as he starts heading for the door.

Deadpool lifts up his mask partway, showing only half his face, humming as he sticks his tongue out at NTW – then yelping as he gets elbowed hard in the ribs by her, before pacing behind Colossus.

***

The afternoon sun was slowly waning, disappearing and reappearing behind passing clouds as you zoom down the highway to D.K.’s dorm.

You see him the moment you turn into the dorm’s parking lot, standing near the lobby – no doubt playing some stupid game on his phone. He looks up when he hears your motorcycle pull up near the curb. You flip up the wind shield from your helmet, greeting him with a little toss of your head backward.

‘’Here’re your keys, dumbass,’’ you toss D.K.’s spare keys at him.

‘’I have the highest GPA in my class. I beg to differ,’’ he retorts as he catches the key between both hands, clanking against his phone.

‘’Well, that didn’t help find your key, did it? You better get your locks changed.’’

‘’Yeah, yeah whatever.’’

You park by the curb, before following behind him up to his dorm room.

The smell of fresh flowers hits you when he swings open the door to his room. You had to admit, he was an overall meticulous and responsible kid – which didn’t make sense that he would lose his keys; especially considering that the both of you were always on high-alert with the threat of Demetrius and his goons looming around you.

But teenagers will be teenagers – even though this one was just initiated into the young adult 20s club recently.

‘’Make yourself at home,’’ D.K. announces, pulling out a chair out of his study desk towards you. He heads to the bathroom, leaving you alone in the room.

You look at the pictures on his desk – of his 2 little sisters back home, and him in the middle; the three of them seated on some kind of child-sized toy car. They were all beaming at the camera – carefree and innocent. As they should be.

You snap back when you hear the click of the bathroom door unlocking.

‘’So, what brings you here, sis?’’

‘’Well, for one – you forgot your keys somewhere.’’

D.K. smiles at you sheepishly, shrugging as he drapes his towel over his shoulders.

‘’But more importantly – I got the anti-mutant serum vial with me. I need you to pass it onto to Dr. Wong. I’ve sent him instructions–‘’

‘’My chemistry elective professor, Dr Wong? You’re kidding me, he’s working for you too?’’

‘’He works with me. Not for me.’’

‘’hE wOrKs WiTh Me,’’ D.K. imitates you in an annoying high-pitched voice – which prompts you to reach out to his ear lobes, twisting it as he winces.

‘’I was joking! Ow– OW!’’ He swats at your hand.

You spend the next hour going through your plans with him – giving him contingencies and back-up plans in case he’s unable to deliver the vial for any reason.

‘’So… how long until I have to go back?’’ D.K. asks, a hand rubbing the back of his neck.

You tilt your head at him. ‘’You don’t sound too happy about that.’’

‘’Yeah, well. This has been my home for the past 9 years… and you – you’ve been taking care of me since I got tangled up with your Boss. I just… Maybe we could make it so that you don’t disappear from my life after this?’’

There was a knot in his throat you could hear through his voice, and it broke your heart.

You hold him by the shoulders, looking directly at him as he looks up at you surprised – ‘’Hey, kid, listen to me okay? You’re gonna be okay. Your family can’t wait to see you again. Your life is over there – living like a 20 year old kid; working for your goals, partying with friends and just living a normal life. Not this. I was never meant to be in your life. In fact, I’m probably the reason why you’re here in the first place–’’

‘’But that’s not your fault!’’

‘’It was. And I’ll pay the price for it, not you.’’

D.K. frowns at you, then looks to the floor.

‘’I’m sorry, D.K.. It’s the only way I can keep you safe.’’

‘’I know,’’ he sighs. ‘’I just – I’m sorry.’’

‘’Don’t be, D. I know it’s hard. But you have to be strong. I’ll be okay, and I’ll definitely contact you, one way or another – I promise.’’

He holds out a pinky to you. You look at it, then smile at him – before meeting his pinky finger with yours in a pinky promise.

***

Colossus meets with Beast at the analytics lab, as Beast worked on pinpointing the different locations that the weapon could have come from. Deadpool walks up to the closest piece of evidence – a large broken spear – and slowly puts a finger towards it – only for Beast to smack it away without even looking up from his screen.

‘’Do we have any more information about our mystery lady yet, friend Hank?’’

‘’I’m afraid not, Colossus. We only managed to get information on the organizations that she might be affiliated with. Most of them are contractors – but we do have information on who was piloting the helicopter. Perhaps we could pay them a visit – ‘’

Colossus’ phone notification sounds inside his pocket.

‘’Da¸ we could. Please excuse me– ‘’ he fishes his phone out of his pocket, and walks a little away from Beast.

Y/N: Hey big guy♡ Hope you’re recovering well. I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk with me? Wanted to see you. Let me know♡

Colossus couldn’t keep his smile in, when Deadpool peaks over his shoulder, startling him.

‘’What’s this, tinman? Another booty call?’’

Colossus rolls his eyes – ‘’No, it is not.’’ – as he walks back towards Beast.

‘’I have some matters to attend to. Please alert me if there is any urgent business.’’

‘’Will do, Colossus – ‘’

‘’Chrome-Dome is ditching us for his side chick!’’ Deadpool accusingly points at Colossus, ‘’that’s right, I said side chick, because we all know I’m the main course. And also! How is this fair? I ask for a fucking vacation and it’s ‘’superhero is a full-time job’’ this and ‘’Wade, you can’t demand money in exchange for saving lives’’’ that. I’m sick of the double standards – Hey, listen to me when I’m talking to you!’’ Deadpool calls after Colossus, who’s already disappeared behind the lab doors.

***

You debate sending the message for a good hour.

I should break up with him. I can not deal with anymore emotions on this issue.

Your mind swirls with ideas on how to break it off gently – but every time you imagine the scenario, your heart gets much too heavy to get to the we should see other people part of the dialogue.

Maybe not today.

You decide that maybe just having a quick meet-up with him could calm you down a little – maybe even prepare you for the next time you meet him.

To break things off, of course.

Even the internal mentions of it makes your heart drop. He made you happy. Happier, safer and more loved than you’ve ever been.

I don’t deserve any of it.

You let out a resigned sigh. No matter how you looked at it, you were incompatible. Not to mention that he lied to you about his job.

Not that I didn’t, but still.

You fiddle nervously with your hands in your pockets – when your phone rings – a call from none other than Piotr.

***

You feel the soft – almost fluffy – fine sand sinking under you with every step, getting between your toes in the most crisp manner that only barely itched the edges of needing attention.

You wave it away, and instead focus on the small tingles you felt when the back of his hands brush against yours, as you walk along the shore.

He had asked to meet you at this beach – ‘’It is a good beach for couples and walking,’’ he suggested through the phone – an eagerness to his voice that was now something you always looked forward to hearing.

Not for long…

The thought makes your heart dread your next few steps.

Distant squawks of pelicans and seagulls fade out across the beach as you trod along, arms swinging gently, with Piotr next to you.

You look up when you hear him inhale, long and slow, as he takes in the glistening surface of the sea. You watch him, as his body relaxes, and he exhales an equally long breath. You follow his eyes to meet the sunset before you.

‘’Your taste in beaches is impeccable,’’ you mention off-handedly, mostly as an attempt to calm your own nerves.

He smiles back at you – that million dollar smile – ‘’Really? I am glad you like it too…’’

A strong chill breeze brushes past – bringing with it the fresh salty savour of the ocean – gliding over your exposed skin and gently caressing your hair, as it finds its way the back of your neck – cooling you off from the sweltering heat of the day.

Piotr’s arm slowly snakes around your waist, drawing close to you, without taking his eyes off the scene before him, as you feel a heat rising to your cheeks.

“Beautiful is it not? I wish I had a chance to paint this. To maybe… capture this moment”

You look up at him and attempt a sly grin to cross your face, as you hook your arm through his.

“This moment, after you spent half the week in bed?”

Piotr chuckles – a deep well-kept laugh that rumbles in his chest – then smiles back at you, smile lines creasing the edges of his lips – his eyes twinkling under the slow receding sun.

His eyes regard you warmly, and you feel an intense burning in the pit of your stomach – a desire. To not only spend the rest of the night with him, but your whole life too.

You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment at the thought of even considering a normal life with someone so kind and generous and wonderful.

‘’Hey Piotr? –’’

He raises his eyebrows at you, his full attention undoubtedly on you.

‘’– do you believe… do you believe that good people can do bad things?’’

He doesn’t even take a moment to answer the question.

‘’Of course. Good people do bad things all the time. But it only matters what they do to make things better. If they know what they are doing is bad, they should stop immediately – if not it can make them… tolerate more evil in the world.’’

‘’What about– ‘’ You cut yourself off when you notice a lady clad in her bikini walking past the both of you, giving Piotr a painfully slow once over – smirking as she nods in his direction.

Your stomach drops as you loosen your grip around his arm, letting your hand fall back next to you, and Piotr’s face changes to one of concern.

He doesn’t deserve this. Not me. Not for who I am, that’s for sure.

“Is everything alright?”

“No, I… I think I’m not feeling too good.”

“Would you like to head back home?”

You think for a moment. And though you wanted nothing more than to stretch these serene and wonderful moments with him – moments which felt almost final – you genuinely didn’t think you deserved it. Much less be competent enough to protect it from the life you actually lead.

“Yes please,” you force out, albeit a little choked, as you look away from him. When you’re with him, your feelings always showed somehow – something which in your line of job was called ‘a massive liability’.

He watches you, deciding whether to press the matter – but your avoidance makes him want to do nothing else but bring you home and allow you to settle in comfortably for the night.

His finger grazes the back of your hand – finding the inside of your palm – before allowing each of his fingers to interlace with yours; and he does it loosely – in case you weren’t comfortable with it. You smile up at him, before gripping his hand tightly, as you walked back towards the road.

Piotr walks you to your apartment, stopping near the entrance. You busy yourself with sliding your fingers over the straps of your handbag, looking anywhere but at Piotr. You start at a sentence, when Piotr speaks up.

‘’Are you sure you are okay, myshka? You sound unwell…’’ he tilts your chin up towards him, ‘’please tell me if there is anything I can do for you? I can stay the night if you –’’

‘’No! I– I mean, I would love that but, I have a lot of work to do tonight and, uh… yeah.’’

‘’That is okay,’’ his voice soft and unhurried, ‘’please take care of yourself if you are working through the night. I heard lawyers do that a lot,’’ he huffs a laugh, trying to ease your nerves. He reaches out for your hand, and when you offer it, he steps forward into a tight hug. He whiffs at your hair – in the way men do in affection – then presses his lips against your temple.

You pull away a little to look at him, still enveloped in his arms – safe and full – tiptoeing as you pull his face towards you into a deep, needy kiss; eyes scrunched closed.

You let yourself enjoy his love; pure and unadulterated by anything.

Even though it hurt to know that it might be one of the last times you can actually do so.

—

Taglist! 

@emma-frxst @chromecutie @fluffymadamina @master-sass-blast @marvelhead17 @onthequill @candle-light-writings

[phanboyo]

Woof so close to the deadline, i can’t believe i finished it. It wasn’t supposed to be half this long, but it just kept going and going and GOING.

@skulking-around-the-phandom‘s prompt: Danny goes intangible through the ground to avoid a painful impact and discovers something very strange beneath Amity Park…

complete; 8,152 words

Danny gasped as his breath clouded in front of him and then sighed. Another ghost attack. It really wasn’t that big of a deal, nothing different from usual, and that was exactly the problem. Maybe it was a good thing that he had fallen into a routine of sorts, but the part of him that forgot all about Desiree kind of wished for something unusual to happen.

He raised his hand. “Mr. Lancer can I use the restroom?” Danny was already out of his seat before Mr. Lancer replied. He transformed in the hallway and shot up through the roof to find Technus closely examining a floating overhead projector.

Danny floated there for a moment, clearing his throat when it became obvious that Technus hadn’t seen him come.

“Oh, ghost child! What a surprise!” Technus said, completely unsurprised.

“I know that’s a piece of junk, but that doesn’t mean you can take it,” Danny said, putting up his fists.

“But if it really is junk, then I’ll take it,” Technus lit his hands up “and you take this.” Technus blasted Danny, who for once had the sense to turn intangible before hitting the ground.

Danny expected to open his eyes to dirt and complete darkness, but instead saw a large chunk of metal illuminated dimly by an old flickering light on the wall. Danny blinked and took a step towards the metal. Upon closer examination, it appeared to be some sort of door, shut tight with a crank like on a submarine or a bank vault. He shook his head.

“Technus first, weird old door later.”

Danny shot back through the earth led by his fist, and was pleasantly surprised when it hit a waiting Technus square in the jaw. “Well that was convenient,” Danny said. He blasted Technus while he was recovering from shock and quickly sucked him into the thermos. The lack of Technus’s presence caused the overhead projector to crash into the ground, smashing into a few jagged pieces. Danny stared at it.

“Not my problem,” he decided, rushing back to class before someone came over and blamed him for the theft.

Danny couldn’t focus much on class after that. He was thinking of the door underground. What could it be? A secret government facility? An ancient UFO, buried by centuries of dust? Maybe it really was a giant underground bank vault. How much money could be in there? Or gold?

He told Sam and Tucker about his discovery after class. Tucker was fond of the UFO idea but he also wouldn’t say no to a bunch of gold bricks, which, Sam reminded, was stealing. Sam thought that it was probably just a reservoir or part of Amity Park’s sewers, which made a lot more sense but also made Danny a little bit disappointed. She was probably right.

Once the final bell rang, Danny was finally able to go back down and investigate. His hopes were significantly lower after Sam’s comment, but he figured he might as well check it out anyway. It took a minute to find the door again, but before long he was back. The door had unsurprisingly remained unchanged. He approached it and put a hand against it. He felt nothing, so he put an earthquake against it. Again, nothing. The light from the old incandescent bulb on the wall was too dim to make out much, but lighting his hand with ectoplasm, Danny could see through the green light that the door was incredibly rusted. He decided that if he wanted to know what this was, he would have to go through the door. So, taking a deep breath, he stepped through.

And was met with darkness. He took another step. Still dark. He kept stepping forward until suddenly his eyes were assaulted with a light much brighter than the dim flickering bulb outside the door. He blinked and looked around. He was in a small grayish room with two large switches on either side and another, much smaller door directly across from him. Danny didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t just a small boring room.

He walked through the door on the other side into another small room, though this one had three normal-looking doors with faded labels above them. Over one of the doors Danny could make out “rec…all.” whatever text was in the middle had been too faded and scratched out. The labels above the other doors were similarly unreadable. Looking at the doors, Danny wondered for a moment if it really was an old government facility.

Using the handy-dandy “eeny meeny miny moe,” Danny walked through the door to the right.

The room was largely white and metallic. It had an examination table in the center, accompanied by a tray with surgical tools whose sharp points shining in the light made Danny shiver. In the back was a large steel box, which Danny assumed was a refrigeration unit, as well as a counter with beakers, test tubes, and a microscope among other things. There was a sink and a few glass cabinets with various chemical containers and medical supplies, and sitting in a wheeled stool at the counter was man in a white coat who appeared to be in his late forties, reading a book.

He didn’t seem to notice Danny’s presence, so Danny cleared his throat, causing a small clank from the chair as the man jumped and turned to him.

The man froze when he saw Danny and the two just sat there staring at each other for an awkwardly long time, neither moving, neither blinking.

“Hi,” Danny said finally.

The man blinked. “How did you get in here?” He asked.

Danny glanced behind him. “The door?”

“But—” the man blinked again. “You’re from the surface?” He stood slowly.

“Yeah,” Danny responded, taking a step back warily.

“Incredible,” the man said, tapping a finger on his chin. “So the exposure to radiation has caused you to glow, among other things, I’m sure.” He began to circle Danny, who was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable. “Your hair is naturally that white?”

“Um, yeah.” Danny responded. “Who are you?”

The man stopped. “Oh, where are my manners? I suppose it’s been quite a while since I met anyone new. My name is Harold Dire. And you are?”

“Danny Phantom. What did you mean by ‘exposure to radiation’?”

Harold looked somewhat shocked. “Well, er,” he scratched his head. “You know. Nuclear fallout. From the bombs dropping.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Bombs? Nuclear fallout? What are you talking about?” Had bombs dropped somewhere near Amity Park and Danny somehow hadn’t noticed? He was pretty sure he would notice the detonation of a nuclear bomb.

Harold looked at him with some mix of pity and distress. “You mean you don’t know?”

Danny suddenly got really really worried.

“I had expected there would be some loss of history or news with the collapse of regular society but this is beyond what I ever would have guessed.” He began pacing and put a hand to his chin again. “It’s like the whole of society has some sort of repression.” He looked back at Danny briefly. “Or perhaps the only ones who were old enough to remember have been killed. It stands to reason that… shorter lifespan… ages ago…” he began muttering.

Danny clapped his palms together. And Harold looked up suddenly as if he had forgotten that Danny was still in the room. “I’m gonna ask again. What are you talking about?”

He looked at Danny. “Right, well… you might want to sit down.”

Danny remained standing.

“Okay, well, we were attacked a little over 40 years ago, before your time.” Danny rolled his eyes. “Russia finally did it. They bombed us.” Danny blinked.

“Russia.”

“Yes, precisely. You know what Russia is?”

“Yes, I know what Russia is.” Danny shook his head. The man was obviously crazy. Maybe this was some kind on underground insane asylum, for the people to were too crazy to be locked away in regular mental hospitals. Then again, the guy was wearing a lab coat. Maybe there was some sort of patient uprising. Or maybe he really had just been down here for a few decades, afraid that the Russians were gonna get him.

“So you’ve been down here alone for how long?”

“42 years,” he said, putting a finger up. “And I’m not alone. There’s Henrietta, and Lilly, and Andy, and Eve to name a few. Oh, I should introduce you! They’d love to meet you!” He paused. “Actually they’d probably incredibly wary and distrustful of a strange person from the surface who broke into the shelter, but you’re only like, thirteen, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I’m fourteen actually”

“So how did you break in? Are you alone? Do your parents let you break into fallout shelters all by yourself?” Harold opened the door and left, beckoning Danny to follow.

“Um, well I just sort of found it while I was… fighting, and—”

“Fighting? Who were you fighting? Looters? Gangs? Super-powered mutant monsters? But you’re only fourteen.”

“Um, actually pretty close to the last one.” Danny ran a hand through his hair. “And I know I’m young, but someone has to protect the town. Might as well be me.”

They walked through the ‘rec… all’ door and Harold looked at Danny skeptically. He obviously thought Danny’s logic was flawed. “We will be continuing this conversation later, but for now,”

The walls of the room were a deep red color and they were walking on a grey carpet that had probably been plush and light before years of use. There was a pool table near the center of the room and a couple of chairs and a couch pushed to the walls, in one of which a woman about Harold’s age sat stitching something. There were a surprising number of bookshelves around the chairs. There was a card table, where two older folks were playing, and in the corner was a girl Danny’s age leaning over an old fashioned jukebox.

Everyone was frozen in place, staring at Danny.

“Let me introduce you.”

There’s more but i dont want Tumblr to have a seizure again so you can read the rest here on FFN or here on AO3

[page-of-tales]

Story: Frontier Medicine (Compiled)

When a conflict between the Ents and the Zygaroon erupts the Federation becomes home to their battlefields. On a distant and remote system one lone Zygaroon survivor comes into contacts with humans.

An optimistic look into possible future medical innovations. Rather than a look back this is more of a look forward at what kind of crazy innovations we will come up with.

Word Count: 7900

“Hospitals should be arranged in such a way as to make being sick an interesting experience. One learns a great deal sometimes from being sick. ”

― Alan Wilson Watts

Crash Landing

Clark Woods was in the living room reading articles on his hand held Screen. Reading local news was his way of winding down from a long day in the fields. There wasn’t much in the news itself. The weather report noted the changing season, warning people to watch for flash floods. Local events were rather mundane, which he sincerely appreciated. He yawned, wondering what he should make for breakfast tomorrow when suddenly the front door burst open.

“Father, father!”

It was Zeke, his young adolescent son. Zeke ran in practically leaping over the coffee table and grabbed Clark by the arm dragging him out of the chair.

“Something landed in the fields! Come on, look!”

Clark managed to hold his ground.

“Hold up son, what did you say? Something in the fields?”

Zeke spoke quickly, and Clark struggled to pick out the words. “I saw a streak of fire crash into the fields! I think it’s a spaceship.”

Zeke was flushed with excitement and Clark himself was now curious.

“Alright let’s go.”

As they both ran out the front door, Clark took a moment to grab his hunting rifle leaning against the door. Already he could smell something in the air. Smoke and dust was rising from the field. As the drew closer they saw that it was clearly a ship of some sort. A small one, capable of housing maybe 1-3 human sized individuals. It had skidded along the ground creating a deep blackened furrow. Sheets of metal had sheared off and were strewn scattered about. Despite the black smoke the ship didn’t appear to be on fire. Still the two approached cautiously.

“It’s a shuttle isn’t it?”

Zeke whispered. Clark was glad to see his son acting with some caution, he checked the chamber of his gun before replying.

“No, too small for a shuttle, looks like an escape pod.”

The two approached closer, Zeke kicking some debris out of the way.

“Doesn’t look like a human design.”

Clark muttered under his breath. The pair drew closer to the crash site. Zeke held his hand above the metal, “Hot. Oh, looks like a handle.”

Before Clark could say anything Zeke had pulled the handle. With a hiss 4 panels of the ship shifted forward before falling to the ground. “It’s an alien!” Zeke exclaimed excitedly. Then recoiled in shock.

Clark shifted to see, rifle held against his shoulder. It certainly was an alien. It wore a full suit that covered it’s face and much of its body. It’s general form vaguely humanoid in proportions, but was slightly taller than him, had a wider abdomen and four arms each with four digits. It also had a massive sucking chest wound from which purple blood pooled from.

Zeke peeked into each chamber, “I think they’re dead.” Indeed none of the bodies moved, and seemed unlikely to be able to. Abruptly one of the bodies flailed about.

It fell forward onto the ground and impulsively seemed to crawl a few inches before collapsing. Zeke started to move towards it before Clark yelled at him to get back. The figure didn’t move as Clark edged closer, the hunting rifle pointed at the alien. When he was right next to the alien it still hadn’t moved. With a foot he flipped the alien over. It’s face mask had been smashed during the crash landing and he could see a pale red face, an alien eye swiveling to look at him. For a moment the two stood in opposition to each other. Slowly Clark lowered the rifle. Setting it by the ground. Speaking slowly he said to Zeke. “Go and bring the truck. We’re taking it to town.”

Zeke to his credit didn’t stall and rushed off quickly. Clark maintained eye contact with the alien. “Help, friendly.” He spoke slowly, even though in the back of his mind he knew it was unlikely the alien understood him. He kept his arms held in front of him to show he wasn’t holding a weapon. Meanwhile his eyes assessed the alien. The figure seemed to be bleeding from a leg wound, purple blood drenching the entire suit. Clark reached to undo his belt, and moving slowly wrapped it around the mangled leg before tightening it firmly around. The alien grunted but didn’t resist. Not at all satisfied with his makeshift tourniquet but unsure of what else to do Clark rose to his feet. He checked the other aliens, shaking them trying to get a reaction.

But there was nothing. The alien called out, three distinctive sounds before repeating. Clark wondered it it was calling to it’s friends. Moving back to the wounded alien he placed a hand on it’s chest. It’s eye looked at him, the movement of its chest more erratic. Clark wondered if the atmosphere was poisoning it. But again there was nothing he could do about that, The sound of the truck approaching drew away his attention. The old red flatbed rolled right up to them and Zeke jumped out and in a moment the two of them dragged the alien onto the bed of the truck. “Alright, you sit in back, I’ll drive.” Clark threw the rifle into the cab and then whipped the truck around to race towards town.

Box Clinics

Zeke had “seen” aliens before. Sometimes you would see them near the spaceport outside of town. But they never went into town and most wore full suits at all times. A remote frontier world like this, so far from the Galactic Spine, didn’t see many alien visitors, made life quiet, but as Father said, quiet was good. Zeke kept a hand on the aliens chest, feeling it move slightly as it breathed. The whistling wind as they sped down the highway made it impossible to communicate, not that the alien would understand him. Up close Zeke noticed that the suit was in fact more an armor with thicker ceramic plating seeming to cover around the head and chest. Latches seemed to hold the suit together. He wondered if this alien being was a soldier. As Zeke watched he noticed the aliens eyes start to droop, a chill of fear ran up his back as he worried the alien might die.

Spotted Eagle was a small town, it was the largest settlement on the world, and its capital, but its population barely bumped above 12,000. It was a sprawling series of districts, it’s only notable feature being the spaceport just outside of town where large freighters and vessels were moored at dock. At this hour the streets were empty. The cold driving everyone indoors. It didn’t take them long to reach their destination close to the center of town. They pulled into the parking lot of the Box Clinic. An unremarkable looking building, bland concrete walls with no visible windows. Resembling more a warehouse than a medical facility. The alien had passed out, but was still breathing. The two of them dragged it inside. The waiting room was empty but notably there was no one inside to receive them either. Clark reached out to slam a red button on the wall labeled HELP. An alarm blared briefly and doors at the end of the room swung open. An automated voice spoke, “Please step inside the examination room, a medical professional has been contacted.”

The two dragged the alien into the room which was lit up by bright white lights. The room was absent of any features save a raised bed near one wall. The pair of them grunted as they lifted the alien onto the bed, it’s limbs sprawling to the sides. “Where’s the doctor!” Clark called out.

“One moment.” The electronic voice intoned smoothly. The sound of a call being connected sounded in the room. Zeke paced nervously. “Connecting, Doctor Yossar.” The voice said before it cut out.

A hologram stepped out of the wall. The blue light depicting a male human dressed in a lab coat wearing square rim glasses. The hologram even somehow managed to emulate the shine of his bald head. He looked at the two as he stepped up to them.

“Doctor Yossar, connecting from Angak, please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

Clark stepped aside to allow the doctor through. “We have an injured alien here. Hurt real bad.”

The Doctor looked surprised as he laid eyes on the patient. “I see. What happened?”

Zeke spoke up, “It’s ship crashed in our field. We pulled it out and brought it here.”

The hologram of the doctor raised its hands to gesture over the alien. Multiple coiled tendrils with grasping appendages at one end called Servos emerged from the wall to position the alien more squarely on the bed. “Did it speak with you? Do you know what species it is?”

Clark accepted a towel handed to him by a servo and wiped alien blood off of Zeke’s forehead. “I tried to talk with it but I don’t think it understood. No idea what species it could be either.” “

I think it’s a soldier!” Zeke blurted out.

“That’s good information to know.” The doctor nodded in appreciation. He hit some buttons on his wrist band. “Clarence, can you come here I need some assistance.” He turned and spoke to someone invisible to the other two. “Please identify this alien and contact the appropriate team, urgently.” Turning back to the alien the servos began moving along the body, tugging at the tourniquet and moving to touch around the smashed face plate. “Do you know how to remove the suit?”

Zeke stepped forward, “I do.” reaching past the servos he jiggled something loose and pulled off some of the armor. It clanged loudly on the floor. “Thank you.” The Doctor said. Together the two of them, servos and hands, stripped off the armor and a pair of scissors cut away the fabric of the suit. The alien body was largely hairless, with a few lumps in places humans didn’t have. Patches of discolored skin stood out and small wounds still leaked blood. Doctor Yossar thanked Zeke before directing him to chairs which could be pulled out from the wall. Then he set to work.

Remote Medicine

Doctor Yossar was located many millions of kilometers from the remote frontier world. Located on the megalopolis world Angak. Standing in a room that was physically the exact same room as the one containing his patient. A VR headset allowing him to see the room containing his patient and the servos mimicking his hand movements with the same precision and accuracy as if he was actually there. There were even a specific set of servos that gave him physical feedback through the haptic gloves. Dr. Yossar was well experienced, having completed nearly a dozen years with Clinix Box. But his expertise was not in alien health. This alien needed a specialist and fast. He hoped Clarence would come back quick. In the meantime he could still perform basic treatment and gather as much information as he could. He began wrapping some sterile bandages around the bleeding wounds, stemming the flow of liquids. With that complete next he attached a few electrodes to the body. The signals he received were shaky and not consistent with a human’s, but enough to read a electric activity in the body. Whether it was neural or somatic wasn’t clear but still was a positive sign.

Floating a little off to the side Doctor Yossar had a chart which he was filling in as much information as he could. Some of it was already present. The weight and basic measurements taken care of by the bed. A catalogue on injuries being made. Other general observations.

He tapped some controls and a rod extended from the underside of the table. It swept up and down the alien figure performing a rapid radiological scan. In his vision a 3D image of the alien’s internal structure appeared alongside the alien. He didn’t bother trying to parse the raw data, without knowing the physiology of the alien and corresponding reaction to a scan he wouldn’t be able to determine much besides cavity, liquid, and solids. He heard a voice speaking through the internal communications, it was Clarence. “The species is identified as a Zygaroon, I’ve contacted the medical team, they will be here in a couple of minutes. Dr. Liu is team leader.”

“Thank you Clarence, get ready to process a sample of blood.” Dr. Yossar reached into the wall to grab a syringe. In the examination room the pair watched as servo wielding the syringe extracted a sample of purple blood from the alien. The servo retracted into the wall and deposited the blood into a machine. “Able to get anything Clarence?”

“Give me a second.” Clarence paused as the data streamed in from the analysis machine. “I don’t know Dr. Yossar. Too many alien proteins, the machine can’t get a clean read. I think the blood caked in the machine. I’ll try a different method.”

A call opened up in Dr. Yossar’s vision. Credentials streamed by quickly as several callers connected at once. Then a new voice spoke in his ear.

“Dr. Yossar, I’m Dr. Liu, head of the xeno medical team. I understand you have a patient for us?”

“Yes, a Zygaroon, pulled from a crash landing from OJ-332. Surface wounds, severe injury to a leg. Internal bleeding, possible structural fracturing, and metal all over in the chest cavity. I’ve pulled a blood sample into the machine. And here is the raw scan data. Oh.” Yossar clapped his hands together. “It might be a soldier.”

“Alright thanks, we can take it from here but we would appreciate you staying on the line.”

“Of course.”

Dr. Yossar stepped back and the visuals in his headset notified him control was being ceded to the newcomers. Pulling the visor up briefly he saw he was still alone in the room. Pulling the visor back down he continued to watch the proceedings.

In the examination room several holograms appeared and gathered around the Zygaroon. They spoke quickly, as they assessed the situation.

“Weight 92.3 kg, height 201 cm. Gender ZX.”

“Age approximately 32 cycles.”

“Scan shows some prior surgeries, a couple of implants.”

“No major organ damage, functioning glands.”

“Arm fractures, internal bleeding in the chest.”

”Clot in leg.”

“Metal fragmentation in the chest cavity.”

“Surgery recommended immediately.”

“We need to know if it’s on any medications.”

“Dr. Yossar do you have information on medication history?”

“No, I pulled a blood sample but the data was garbage.”

One of the techs pulled up the roll of data in front of him. “Yeah, that’s an accurate assessment.”

“I’m guessing it clogged up the machine.”

Clarence’s voice came in overhead. “Yeah I can’t get the machine to respond anymore.”

One of the techs nodded at that. “Zygaroon blood is thicker than most. Fascinating clotting abilities.”

“We have to wake it up.” Dr. Liu said taking hand of the situation. “Ideas?”

“Stimulant?”

“No, possible interactions.”

“Slap it?”

“Good idea.”

A servo with an electrode reached up and shocked the Zygaroon with a jolt of electricity. It’s eyes snapped open and it seemed startled to be surrounded by holograms and the hovering tentacle-like servos. However it gasped aloud when it tried to rise and it fell back against the bed. The servos moving to restrain it gently.

“*Don’t move, we are here to help” Dr. Liu spoke in translated Zygaroon, which sounded like a mix of grunts and huffs in different pitches. The Zygaroon just grunted in pain, but it seemed to comprehend. It’s resistance ceasing. A servo extended holding a tube to the alien's mouth.

“Blow.” Dr. Liu instructed and the Zygaroon blew a breath into the tube. The breathalyzer was a basic diagnostic tool capable of evaluating the contents of an individual’s blood. From a breath a doctor could evaluate the presence of drugs, metabolites, and even cancer. After a moment the machine produced matches with recognizable compounds which popped up in everyone’s view. One of the techs began labeling the molecules calling them out as she went down the list.

“Stimulant, mild pain inhibitor, anti-toxin, I would recommend anesthetic #3.”

Dr. Liu turned to the Zygaroon, a model of the alien appearing in her hand. “*We are going to have to operate to heal you. You have fragments in your chest and internal bleeding.” She pointed to the locations on the model. “Do we have permission to operate.”

The Zygaroon paused a moment before answering. “*Yes.”

One of the assistant techs turned to Clark and Zeke still waiting on the far wall. “Please wait in the waiting room. We will inform you when it is safe to come back inside.”

One of the team members began entering in some chemical formulas and somewhere in the clinic a molecular printer began producing the anesthetics and other drugs they would require. The walls of the room opened up and a number of devices deployed in preparation for surgery. A line of fluids was hooked up to the patient and the servos moved the electrodes to different positions to attenuate the signal properly. The techs hurriedly conversed amongst themselves as they did a quick pre-check. Meanwhile Dr. Liu extended a mask over the mouth of the Zygaroon. “I want you to count back from 10.”

“10, 9, 8-”

Background Check

Dr. Yossar watched as Dr. Liu went to work. The alien was cut open on the table. Small specialized servos moved about in the chest cavity. Applying adhesive grafts to bleeding vessels, grafts made of a special polymer that would disintegrate harmlessly as the body healed itself. Another metal fragment clinked into a metal bowl, as the chest shrapnel was cut out. A small torch kept the internal bleed down. One of the techs kept a watch on the monitors. Announcing metabolite values at regular intervals.

It was quiet, the team was professional and practiced. Dr. Yossar now certain his patient was in good hands and his presence was no longer necessary took the opportunity to excuse himself and exited the simulation. He pulled off the visor and let it hang from the ceiling. Walking to the corner of the room he picked up a water bottle and took a long drink. Even for an Emergency call that had been different. Clarence poked her head in through the doorway.

“Good work doctor.”

“Thanks Clarence, quick work on the identification.”

“Oh that was easy, I just did a search for the system they were calling from. Apparently the Zygaroon and Ents are at war. There was a battle there just today.”

“A war?”

“Yeah, apparently over some ancient relic ships.”

“The Ents are allies right?”

“I believe so.”

“Better contact the authorities then. Not sure in what jurisdiction this falls in.”

“I can handle it, go ahead and take your break.”

“Thanks Clarence.”

Dr. Yossar plopped himself down in a chair. Then he recalled the pair who had brought the alien in the first place. He tapped his wrist band and searched for the local number of the clinic. They would probably want to know about the alien as well.

Waking Up

Flight Leader Tara awoke with a start. Hands flailing to grasp at something. Then the memories returned. The ambush, the battle, the destruction of her fighter, the plummet to the planet. Rescue. She looked around. The slight movement causing an irksome pain in her chest. She felt sore all over, but she was alive which seemed miraculous. White panels covered the wall. The lights above were dim but starting to come alight as she moved about. A Screen at the end of the bed came to life. A human peered at her and showed her its teeth as she stared at him. A translator bubbled to life as it began to speak.

“*Good morning. Flight Leader Tara.”

“How do yo-”

“We scanned your flight tags. My name is Davi, diplomatic staff located on Angak.”

Tara looked around but she was alone in the room.

“What happened to my crew?”

Davi’s face took on a somber appearance. Already Tara knew the answer but she had to confirm.

“I’m sorry, they didn’t survive.”

Tara subdued the well of emotion. She could grieve later for her flightmates.

“Where are the humans who rescued me?”

“They’re outside sleeping in the waiting room. They were quite concerned about your health.”

Tara raised her arm which had some device connecting to a machine by the bed which appeared to show her vital signs. A green line jumping in time with her heartbeat.

“What is this place?”

“It’s a hospital.”

Tara scoffed, wincing slightly at the pain that movement caused.

“No backwater would have a medical facility this advanced. It’s absurd.”

Davi paused. Somewhat unsure of what the Zygaroon seemed to mean.

“Well I don’t know how hospitals work on Zygaroon. Though you are correct, this isn’t exactly a hospital but rather a remote clinic. As you put it, a *backwater* planet like this does not have a population base that makes a large scale hospital viable. However, we have laws dictating that population centers of 10,000 must have access to proper medical facilities. These remote facilities are a result of that. They give the local population access to health care to even these remote locations. Does that answer your question.”

“Yes…” Tara trailed off. She had suffered mortal wounds and had been saved overnight. Apparently human medical technology was more advanced than they had been led to believe. If this level of care was present on their frontiers who knew what sorcery they could wield at their core worlds.

“So what happens next?”

Davi looked up. “Oh I guess they didn’t tell you. Guess I got in before the nurses did. The doctors note recommended a couple days in bed here just to make sure there aren’t any complications from the operation. After that we WILL have to detain you. The Ents have made a formal request to the Federation that we hold any Zygaroon soldiers in our territory. You will be treated as a POW and continue being given treatment for your wounds.”

The monitor beeped as her heart rate rose. Tara tried to rise, but the effort exhausted her. “I don’t have a chance do I?”

Davi flashed his teeth at her again..

“You’ll live, in fact I think you might enjoy the terms of your stay.”

“How.” She growled.

“Well, other than actually leaving the planet, you are free to go anywhere you wish on the planet itself. I’m sure you are aware you owe a life debt to the humans who saved you. In exchange for being your *wardens* they have requested you not be imprisoned or sent to the Ents. Their request has been granted. Your life debt will be considered fulfilled if you remain peaceably on the planet until the end of the war. I assume those terms are satisfactory for annulling your debt?”

Tara sunk into the bed, defeated and exhausted. “So this is the guile of humans.”

Davi flashed its teeth at her again, satisfied that the agreement had been settled. “You will have my number if you wish to negotiate for imprisonment. Goodbye Flight Leader.”

Preface

The Ents and Zygaroon had never been friends. Howevert hey had enough biological differences that they would rarely come into contact. Zygaroons breathed oxygen while the Ents metabolized fluorine. This distinctive difference alone kept them sequestered to different star systems. In addition, fluorine isn’t a particularly common element in an atmosphere so the Ents rarely colonized planets beyond constructing simple enclosed habitats on a few resource rich planets. Another contributing factor to the Ent’s general aversion to space travel.

There is one exception to that notion, and that is the Progenitors as the Ents call them. Humans call them the Libenters for reference. From what remains of their civilization the latest hypothesis is that the Progenitors were a space faring race some millenia ago that eventually faded out into extinction. For the Ents the Progenitors are akin to religious icons. Half of their colonies are constructed on planets holding trace remains of the Progenitors for the sole purpose of archeological research. As the name suggests the Ents view the Progenitors as having a key hand in their history, the details of which are unclear to outsiders.

You can imagine the Ents delight when they heard news that an ancient Progenitor city had been discovered by miners. They rapidly set off en masse in a large fleet to investigate the ruins, in the process they chased off the miners. In short summary the planet was in a star system claimed by the Zygaroon. The Zygaroon didn’t take kindly to the intrusion and attacked. The Ents dead set on the Progenitor ruins declared war. Skirmishes erupted along their borders, and neither side yielded the other any advantages. Both parties had attempted to ambush the other by circumventing through Federation space, and instead ended up spotting each other in a surprise encounter and having a running space battle that stretched across several star systems. As a human observer would put it, “The neighbors were having a tussle in my yard.”

Staff Meeting

Davi had to fight back a guffaw. The embellishment to the memo had caught him off guard. The line sounded familiar, maybe a quote from a drama. A timer notification popped up on his screen and he minimized the files. Davi took a moment to take a glance to his left and to his right as he sat upright behind the desk. On his right sat the Provincial Supervisor Theseus, leaning back in his chair to stretch long lanky arms. On his left sat the military liaison, Lieutenant Commander or was it Lieutenant Colonel, Akers was sitting reviewing some data on her screen.

Around the three a cadre of staff and aides milled about. There was a quiet buzz as they passed notes between themselves and the door to the room was swinging open constantly. The lights began to dim as the meeting began and the voices died down. One by one a projector beamed images of the System and Planetary leadership figures from across the province onto the far wall as communication was established. Light years of distance cut to a few microseconds of lag, a miracle of hyperspace communications. Yet even with that convenience came the hassle of  arranging the schedules of 15 individuals who had widely varying day and night cycles. That aspect of conferences would never change.

The last connection was made and for a moment the room was silent giving Davi time to look at the profile’s of the gathered leaders. Of the 12 local leaders 1 was non-human. 8 star systems were represented, for star systems that didn’t have more than 1 significantly populated planet the Planetary leadership and System representative were usually the same. Supervisor Theseus issued greetings and the transcriber began tapping on his keyboard signaling the start of the meeting. Sparing everyone’s time the topic of discussion was brought up immediately, the Ent-Zygaroon war, specifically the recent battle that had careened through Federation space. First off the broad strokes presented by the Lieutenant Major. A star chart was projected into the room and the liaison highlighted the intrusion points of the alien forces. Noting that the initial intrusions had been too far from any Federation force to prevent either fleet’s movement. Davi took his turn to note the Federation had logged a strong formal complaint to both governments, and was now moving to secure its border with both species. Elements of the Federation Fleet would be mobilized throughout the region, and further intrusions would be met with force. There was muted approval and easing of worry from the leadership.

Supervisor Theseus took the reins again and listed out some prepared guidelines for the leaders to follow. In general all they were asking was for inspection of current defenses, and for certain systems to prepare for disruptions as the Federation fleets moved through and about. The Ents military were to be given non-military assistance if requested, the Zygaroon to be ignored unless an emergency presented itself. The meeting was adjourned after a special communication line was established for any further requests or notifications in regard to the matter. After the last leader had logged off Davi let out a breath. The Lieutenant Captain flashed a grin at him, “You thought that was hard, here comes the media.”

The door to the office open and a surge of reporters with cameras flashing rushed in. Davi groaned under breath. He still had that Zygaroon to call. Today should be the day she was discharged from the clinic.  

The Funeral

Flight Leader Tara stood at attention in front of the graves. It was a clear day, the sun high in the sky. At her request her flightmates had been buried in an open field. The tall yellow grass shorn to create a clearing in the center. Fresh turned dirt marking the site of the dead. Above the graves a pyramid of branches marked the site. The humans had made a good faith effort in the burial. Her flightmates had been cleaned, dressed in violet garments, and laid to rest with their weapons. A warrior’s burial. Tradition stated she wear battle wear, however only her survival suit had survived intact. At the very least her weapons, her pistols and blades, had been returned to her. For the moment it would do. Around her with heads bowed stood several dozen humans, friends of her rescuers. With the final resting rites intoned Tara lit the pyramid aflame.

As the pyramid burned itself down the humans came up to giver her condolences. This was a human tradition and she accepted their words silently. Last were her rescuers, the father and son. They didn’t say anything, merely standing beside her. Tara averted her eyes from the embers to look around. It was a good place to lay her comrades to rest, however momentary. When the war was over the bodies would be retrieved and laid to rest on their homeworlds. The humans had promised to watch over them until then and she knew they would hold to that debt.

At last she settled herself. She spoke through the translator. “We can go.”    

Check Up

Clark Woods waited for Tara in the waiting room of the Box Clinic. Today there were a few other individuals sitting around, waiting for appointments or here to have a doctor examine a weird mole on their back. Clark made small talk with the grocery manager, and to a parent of his son’s classmate. They were eager to ask questions about his new occupant, despite their inquiries he waived off any questions on his guest.

Tara in the meantime was stripped down and doing stretches for the holo doctor. Evaluating her today was one of the nurses from the team that had treated her that first night. The nurse was making some notes and asking questions about her health. Tara gave succinct answers. “Yes, her chest ached. It was a 4 on the pain scale. No, she wasn’t drowsy. No, she wasn’t allergic to anything on the planet yes. Yes, she was washing her wounds.” Fairly standard medical processing.

The nurse seemed satisfied and told her as much. There had been no complications with the surgery. At the end the nurse recommended Tara maintain a low level of activity making sure not to overexert herself. She could pick up a package of various medications from the dispensary.

After the nurse disconnected there was only a brief pause before the diplomat stepped back into the room. He said hello to which Tara ignored as she put back on her clothes. He wasn’t put off by her silence and continued. The full script of the blood debt had been written up by the lawyers and he was here to orate the terms. She initially listened dutifully, however  as he droned on she stopped listening. The stipulations were common sense and water tight, preventing her from inflicting harm or being deceptive in regards to her imprisonment. Tara hadn’t been looking for loopholes in her debt, and wouldn’t have taken advantage of them if she found any. To do so would have dishonored the spirit of the agreement and bring dishonor to herself. The diplomat finishes and apologizes for the delay, he continues by saying they have connected a communication to her people as promised. He points out that there is a minute delay because of the signal lag. He leaves the call button on the screen for Tara to initiate, before leaving the room. After taking a moment to groom herself Tara connects the call. An image screen opens on the wall, after a few minutes of silence the connection clicks and a Zygaroon voice comes in.

“This is Grand Overseer Maga. Report.”

“Flight Blue-243, Flightleader Tara. I was shot down in an Ent ambush and am being held prisoner on the Federation world Naranja.”

There was a long pause.

“I see. Are you being treated well?”

“Yes, the humans have provided medical treatment and adequate shelter. I owe them a life debt.”

Another long pause, one which seemed to keep going.

“Very well. Stay strong and persist Flightleader.”

With that the call disconnected leaving Tara feeling suddenly very isolated. Frankly the reaction of her people wasn’t surprising. Given her individual status as a prisoner of war her people couldn’t offer her much. Nor could she offer much to them in her wounded state. Fighting off the feeling of abandonment Tara turned and left the darkened room.

Settling In

The drive back to the farm was quiet. Clark had seemed aware of her disconsoled mood, yet as always remained silent. Tara took the moment to look out at the passing scenery. Fields of crops. Of what nature she couldn’t quite determine. The fields seemed rather like an endless ocean, stretching to the horizon and with only the occasional copse of trees to differentiate the landscape. The quiet and monotony had an enchanting effect on the Zygaroon who only realized they had arrived at their destination when Clark pulled the truck into the driveway.

Tara’s cell was to be the unused spare bedroom. The bed had been modified to accompany her larger size and it now made the rest of the room look awkwardly small. The survival packages from her escape pod had been brought here and placed in the closet. Not that she needed anything from them. Clothes had been custom modified for her distinctly non-human appendages. The environment did not have any elements that were averse to her physiology. Bottles of vitamins were left untouched as her dietary needs were compatible with the humans.

Tara knew she should count herself lucky. Rather than being imprisoned she was essentially on vacation. It was… a conflicting thing to try and think about. Her schedule as a prison was loose, but regular. She rose a little after the sun had filled her room through the room’s sole window. In the morning she spent much of it maintaining the grooming standard of a warrior.  She ate two meals with the humans. She would spend the day either walking the perimeter or resting in bed depending on the level of pain she was experiencing. In the evening she might play a game of Lilp against Clark or otherwise watch the sunset before heading to bed. The boredom felt much more in line with a prison camp.

She had asked how long Clark could expect to keep up this charade. His response had surprised her.

“The war won’t last more than a week.” Clark said with unwavering certainty.

“How long is a week?” Tara inquired, unable to bring herself to challenge the declaration.

“10 days.”

6 days had already passed since then.

A Nightmare

Tara glanced at the flight controls. But for some reason the readings she was looking at didn’t make sense. She tried to reexamine the data but she couldn’t understand what she was looking at. She turned to talk to her co-pilot only to see the entire fighter was filled with smoke. The thick oily smoke filled her lungs and she struggled to breath. Desperately she tried to call for help, for her crew to evacuate. Despite her growing panic her body seemed to refuse to listen. The smoke soon enveloped her and she started to choke. This was wrong. With a willful movement she thrust herself forward out of her chair as the fighter disintegrated around her.

When she blinked above her was a darkened ceiling. Underneath she could feel a mattress on her back, sheets soaked in sweat. Confused she sat up. Unfamiliar furnishings surrounded her, but after a moment the events of the past week caught up to her. As her racing heart slowed back down, and her gasping breaths stopped. Her chest ached and she reached over to uncap a pill. As she swallowed the medication Tara looked at the window. The frame just barely lit by the moonlight. A nightmare she thought to herself, the room echoed with silence as her mind fought with itself. Finding a balance point she laid back on the bed to try and go back to sleep.

Outside the door a figure slowly crept away as the breathing in the room returned to an even pace.

Idle Days

It was on the 7th day that Clark proposed a suggestion. At first Tara hadn’t understood, but after some clarification things became clearer. Clark was proposing a camping trip for the three of them. Nothing too wild, in fact they would be traveling just a couple hours to the nearby lake just out of town. Technically Tara had no choice in the matter as a prisoner of war, but Clark insisted on getting her to agree to the matter. He explained a change in scenery and a chance to relax would be good for her.  

The young boy, Zeke was quite excited. Even though they weren’t traveling far he eagerly rushed about the house throwing items into the truck. Tara found herself caught up in the boy’s enthusiasm, untangling the fishing line at a remarkable speed with her four arms. By noon they were driving down the road.

Naranja

To give a bit of background about OJ-332. The star system is located some distance within the borders of Federation space, and quite a distance from the warp points in the region. Various spatial bodies nearby made it difficult for hyperspace travel. Because of these factors OJ-332 would historically be largely ignored by all the government and major corporations. LEaving the colonization of OJ-332 up to the venturous independent settlers to move into. Within OJ-332 itself the only habitable and populated planet is called Naranja by the local populace. Naranja is classified as a desert planet with just enough of an atmosphere and water content to be colonized by humans. With a caveat of the atmosphere being a little thinner than standard. Like living at high altitude, without the actual altitude. From space the yellow orange terrain is wrinkled by mountain ridges and valleys, and its most notable feature is a large crater in the north-west hemisphere. Indicative of a long ago impact by a significant massive object.

Geological studies of the planet had determined that the impact had wiped out a thriving primitive biosystem present on the planet. All of that organic matter had been subsequently transformed into prime farmland. Human settlers had capitalized on this fact, with the primary economy of the planet supported by its agricultural industry. The viable and weakened biosystem providing an ideal base for growing food. All of its exports are directed to the overflowing interior Sector systems. Despite its potential for productivity, most of the planet is undeveloped because of how remote the region is.

Spotted Eagle was the first settlement on the planet, and in order to ease the process of terraforming, had been located by the largest body of freshwater on the planet. Development of irrigation and other projects had drained the lake somewhat. A decrease which made it the third largest body of freshwater on the planet.  

Lake Camping

Their destination was this small unnamed lake, and they arrived sometime just before the sunset. It didn’t take them long to find a camping spot and set up their campsite. Clark told the two should explore the lake while he prepared food. Tara took a walk to a small pier jutting into the lake to rest while Zeke ran up and down the gravel beach. The lake was for lack of better words, modest. You simply don’t get magnificent lakes on a desert planet. “Then again a lake is just a body of water and all bodies of water are the same in appearance.” Zeke had said after Tara scoffed at the lake as a tiny pond. The lake was of a moderate size, surrounded by tree covered hills. The water was largely undisturbed, and clear to the bottom. Tara could watch fish swimming around the legs of the pier. Laying on her stomach she ran her hands in the water. The cold sensation soothing to the touch. It was incredibly pleasant.

Some time later Clark called them in for dinner and they sat around a campfire eating their meal. Zeke eagerly showed some colorful rocks he had picked off from the beach, while Tara focused on the crackle and pop of the campfire. After the meal Clark pulled out a few more bags of foodstuffs. The two of them demonstrated an old human tradition. Smores as they called it. A melted over sugary dessert that repulsed Tara. Though she still ate eight of the monstrosities. Using her two pairs of hands to rotate the sugar balls on their spits to get an even brown appearance. Afterwards the fire was doused and the two split up to rest in the two tents they had set up. From her tent Tara could hear the sound of the water nearby, and the chirp of insects. She wondered how she would sleep with all the noise.

Clarks Past

The next morning Clark rose early. The sun was breaking the horizon. Surprisingly Tara was still asleep. Usually she would be up with the sun, doing her grooming. Clark let her rest. Moving to sit by the pier and look at the sun reflecting off the water as it slowly rose over the horizon. Blazing reds flashing off the waves, the light glimmering in a mesmerizing chaos. Absentmindedly Clark felt the old scars on his side. Old wounds from an old war. Though the pain had faded there were still something there. It was largely why he had left the interior for the frontier.

Behind him he heard the footsteps and turned to see Zeke had woken up. He held two fishing poles in his hands, a box of bait precariously balanced. Clark rose to help his son, the sun continuing to rise higher and higher.

Idle Fishing

Tara stumbled out of the narrow tent opening and blinked in the sudden light. She had overslept. Walking over to the cooler she grabbed one of the food bars they had brought along and scarfed it down. Looking for the others she saw them on the pier. She approached them and saw the two had fishing poles extended into the water. The father turned to greet her and hand her a pole. She handed it back to him and explained she didn’t know how to use it. He quickly showed her how to use it, it wasn’t a complicated device. A spool of line, and a handle. He baited the hook for her with a native worm, and then cast it into the water. She took the pole and sat on the pier. Dangling her feet into the water.

After a long while, the sun having noticeably changed position in the sky, Tara spoke up. “I don’t think this is working”

Clark reeled back in his line, examined the worm which was still intact on the hook and cast his line back into the water. “It’s called fishing not catching.”

Zeke groaned.

Home Calls

After some time the three of them had managed to catch 4 fish. Zeke and Tara had each caught two. Clark went about showing Zeke how to prepare one of the fishes, and then Tara took an opportunity to show how her people prepared fish. Sticking the fish on sticks they roasted them over a fire. Some tubers were wrapped in foil and placed in the fire to cook as well. The savory smell was even more gratifying when the three of them thought of the struggle it had been catching them. As they ate Clark perked his head up, hearing something on the wind. Following his eyes Tara saw a vehicle approaching the campsite. Clark rose as the vehicle pulled up to them. For a moment he conversed with the driver. Then he gestured for Tara to come join them.

“Tara there is news about the war.”

“The war?” Tara had almost forgotten.

“Yes, the Ents and Zygaroons are currently in negotiations for a peace treaty. We have a shuttle to take you home. You can go home.”

For some reason Tara hesitated. Here was the opportunity to return home, and she was hesitating. The moment stretched with an undisturbed silence begging to be broken. Tara’s hands fluttered by her sides as she struggled with her indecisiveness. Clark held up his wrist to his face even though there was nothing there.

“You know Tara I had planned to a vacation for three people for three days. That’s a lot of food that would otherwise be wasted.”

He glanced above his wrist to look her in the eye.

“If you wanted to stick around a few more days I’m sure the embassy gentleman wouldn’t mind.”

After a moment Tara found her voice.

“I’m going to need a moment.”

She turned and walked away from them, heading back to the pier where Zeke was skipping stones into the water. Clark turned to the man who seemed perplexed by the alien behavior.

“It won’t be a problem if she decides to stay right?”

“No sir, this is our only assigned task. There is another team going to handle the mediation.”

“I’m not a sir anymore.” Clark chided gently.

“Of course… sir.” The man said, muttering the last word despite himself.

Clark turned to look at Tara who was sat in a meditative pose behind Zeke.

“I think she needs this.”

“Sir?”

“I said to stop calling me sir, my name is Clark.”

“...sorry.”

[catholicdaredevil]

Bucky Barnes’ Son Headcanon

Requests are open so go ahead and send them in!

A/N: so im doing this cause me and gen have been screaming to each other about bucky being a father so here's this based on an already born son!!! also these are mainly based off of what the other avengers would be like with bucky’s kid vs how bucky would be also i just shit this out in a couple hours

first of all bucky names his kid grant,,,,,,,,

he doesn’t tell anyone other than steve what his full name is

until grant bolts out of his room and buckys apartment without any pants on

and hes scream laughing and running around the kitchen in his underwear

“GRANT THOMAS BARNES GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW”

bucky storms out of his apartment not knowing sam was sitting at the kitchen counter eating cereal

and at the name sam jolts in his seat, choking on a mouthful of frosted flakes

“did - did you name your kid after me?”

bucky stops dead in his tracks and his face immediately turns ridiculously red

“uh no, what do you mean after you? I didn’t name my kid after you. psh ridiculous. outlandish. of course i didnt. i wouldnt. i mean ----”

and grant pops his head out from the other side of the counter thats between him and his dad and grins

“mom says that you and uncle steve are dads bestest friends so thats why i have your names. she says that dad trusts you guys more than anyone in the whole entire world and im not allowed to talk about it”

he seems so pleased with himself and buckys jaw drops at the little shit that is his kid

sams completely frozen

his cereal getting soggy as it sits in the milk untouched

and his eyes start to water and the next thing he knows tears are streaming down his face

and he stands up so quick the chair falls backwards and bucky jumps finally turning to look at sam

and sam just leaps at bucky and crashes into him his arms wrapping around the super soldier tightly

“thank you” he whispers and bucky can’t help but to hug him back

meanwhile besides sam, steve and clint everyone else seems a bit indifferent to grant until the toddler starts talking even more

the entire team wouldn’t expect to get as attached to buckys son as they did

cause yeah grant was cute but they didn’t have time for kids

or so they thought

cause one day grant would be playing hide and seek with bucky in the compound and he’d slip into tony’s lab and get so caught up in watching tony work

when he finally turned around to see the kid sitting on the floor just following him with his eyes he MELTS

and lets grant climb up into his lap

“so now i’m running some programs to make sure that every piece of peters suit is working well”

and grants just nodding along like hes 6 and understands nanotechnology

and bucky finally gets nervous unable to find his son anywhere so he asks friday

“grant it’s time for dinner plus you know youre not allowed in tonys lab without permission.” he chastises

but tony scoffs and sets the child back on the ground but before he runs off he yells out

“hey grant you have MY permission to come back whenever you want. how about you come visit uncle tony tomorrow?”

and bucky levels tony with w look that could kill and ushers grant out the door before turning

“since when are you uncle tony?”

“since i realized it’d bother you”

“god fucking damn it tony”

every single avenger has certain things they love to do with the kid

steve likes to take grant to the park and get him ice cream or candy

basically whenever he returns buckys kid hes sticky, needs a bath and has a million stories from his day

sam likes to play with grants toys, he’ll lay on the floor and play legos for HOURS

and bucky swears he sees sam stare longingly at the toy room that the legos are in even when grant is nowhere near

bruce always lets grant climb all over him while he tells the small child stories about how cool science is

and while at the idea of being around a small kid used to make him nervous in terms of the hulk hes not scared anymore

since bruce and hulk both agreed to never put grant in any danger

and tony starts making jokes about how this goes to prove that it takes ‘a village to raise a child’

says it so much that bruce decides to cross stitch something that says “it takes the avengers to raise a child” and tony loves it so much

he gets it framed and puts it on the wall in the living room and bucky rolls his eyes every single time he passes it

peter even likes to come over and watch spongebob and frozen and whatever kid show grants currently into

bucky has never even remotely considered calling a babysitter that isn’t an avenger

literally maria hill who always insists she hates kids loves grant

bucky is less thrilled about this friendship since maria tended to give grant weapons

she is why outside one day after yelling out “what do you have?”

grant giggled “A KNIFE” and continued running

“NOOOO”

loki was so soft around grant

he would constantly be doing magic to make the kid giggle and laugh

he’d enchant different toys to talk for a couple hours then just watch as grant would play

HALLOWEEN

listen if you think every single avenger wouldn’t dress up for halloween every year to go trick or treating with grant you have another thing coming

this kid by age four pretty much has every single adult wrapped around his tiny chubby little fingers

especially bucky

which is understandable it is his kid

but honestly bucky has no fucking idea how to say no

so grant is the most spoiled kid in the whole world

to make a long story short it would be

one big happy family

Tags: @hootyhoobuckaroo @tropicalcap @papi-chulo-bucky @tokoyamisstuff @tjhammcnd

[diaryofthelovelyparadox]

04/04/2020; Prompt: Write about a time everything changed in the blink of an eye.

January 06, 2008

I remember waking up from a huge nap. I wasn’t sure why I was sleeping all the time. I couldn’t understand why I was sad all the time. I would just randomly get sad without a reason. Today, I found one reason. It’s about 2030, and I get a phone call from Danny. I couldn’t hear anything he was saying. He’s gasping for air, and searching for words. 

Me: Danny what’s up

Danny: We... Wait is everything okay?.... Any news doctor?

Me: *doctor? is his mom sick again?*

Danny’s mom: Mr. Kim is on his way home. I think it’s best if you met him at our home.

That was weird. What the fuck is going on? Why won’t Danny say anything? Before I knew it my feet were dragging be across the grass into their backyard. Is that Anna? Why is she crying? Why is Mr. Kim crying? Mr. Kim escorts us to his car, and we drive away. Anna wouldn’t look at me or say anything to me. I JUST WANT TO SCREAM. WHAT IS GOING ON? WHY WON’T ANYONE SPEAK? 

I see that we park at the Baptist Hospital. WHY ARE WE HERE? I see Danny and Mrs. Kim in the lounge area. Danny is all covered in bandages. 

My entire heart sank to the ground and dig itself so deep in the ground. Danny and Jae got into a car accident. A drunk driver hit them head on from the other lane causing the accident. It happened on their way back from the mall on the highway. The drunk driver crossed over the lanes going over 60 miles per hour hitting the boys head on. The head on collision caused the car to flip down the hill. Danny is bandaged up around his head, arms, and covered in cuts on his face. The drunk caused Danny to hit the dashboard, broke his left arm and leg by how badly his body the car flipped. Jae is still being hospitalized. Danny doesn’t know what happened to he said when he was being taken out of the car at the bottle of the hill. Jae was nowhere near him. There was a shattered hole through the driver seat. Danny woke up at the bottom of a hill while Jae was found laying on the highway nearly six feet away from where the drunk driver crashed into them. Jae is being treated for a severe concussion. He didn’t wake up. Doctors are running tests on his brain. He’s so smart, why do they need a test? 

Friends and family gather around for Jae. It’s not like he won’t be okay. He’s strong. He has to. For me. Please. Don’t leave me. 

January 07, 2008 

Hospitals are extremely depressing. They are cold, lonely, filled with screams and pain for the patient and for those visiting and waiting. Doctors and nurses flock in groups. Rushing to aid, bear of good news, bear of sorrows. Are they trained for the emotional baggages that comes with the job? The emotional news for me. The emotional trauma it brings to our doctors. They are the ones carrying burden too. 

Doctors come to us. Three of them in white lab coats. Two police officers walk along them. I remember it all too well. Doctors advised us to sit for the news. I thought everyone in the room could hear how loud my heart was beating. It was beating so loud and hard I thought it was going to burst out of my chest. The officers finished their report of the accident. The officers inform us that the drunk driver died at the scene. His alcohol blood level was at a 0.7 and to be able to legally drive the alcohol blood has to be under 0.06. Jae was driving, preparing for his driver’s test. The driver crashed into the driver’s side. The impact of the crash was intense. Jae’s seatbelt broke from the impact, causing him to break through the windshield. He had landed facedown, hitting his upper forehead to the ground. The car had rolled over two times being pushed off onto the side of the road, down the hill before being stopped by the tree at the bottom. Danny broke his arm and leg during it with many cuts from the glass. Danny needed 8 stitches throughout his face and body. Doctors ask us to imagine: a balloon being filled with air thats trapped in a box. That was being used to describe what was happening to Jae’s brain from swelling of his brain from a concussion he received when his head hit the highway. Before the doctors could finish anything else, my vision starts to fade and the words are being crossed out. Tears start rolling down my face. Oh my god. Jae. He’s just lying there, wrapped up and bounded to his bed. Helpless. A river starts to follow from my eyes. My face became wet. So wet that my clothes became wet. I was so empty I cried everything out of my body causing me to faint later. All I could do was scream. WHY GOD? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS? WHY DO YOU TAKE AWAY THE GOOD PEOPLE WITH DREAMS AND GOALS IN LIFE? WHY DID YOU TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME? MY ONLY FRIEND? MY BEST FRIEND! I became the child at the grocery store throwing a tantrum in the middle of the aisle so that the whole store can hear. I eventually fell asleep. My body was so weak. I was so drained out. 

January 8, 2008

You would have never guessed what happened. I was in a terrible nightmare I thought my best friend was going to be in a coma forever. 

OH MY GOD IT WASN’T A FUCKING DREAM

I woke up on a private waiting room floor. Pillow and blanket. Danny is lying next to me. I see his mother and father asleep in the chairs along with their grandmother. 

After lunch, we go into Jae’s room to see him and pray. Prayer takes about 1-2 hours since they were a catholic family too. It’s nearly 7pm now and we here the monitors going off. Jae’s heart rate just stopped. Just like that, he was gone. My entire body just went numb. His mother is throwing herself at his bed onto him crying and screaming for him to come back. I knew I was crying. I just couldn’t feel the tears come down. I just saw the tears damping my shirt as they fell off my face. I excuse myself from the room breaking down outside. I just fall to the floor crying so hard I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t think, speak, or try to move. I just cry on the hospital floor outside his room that the whole fucking place can see what hell the hospital brings to people. 

January 12, 2008

God I’ve been a mess. I skipped school all the remaining days of the week preparing myself for this moment. I come to the house to prepare for the ceremony. Danny and I don’t say a word to each other but we can look at each other and see what we were feeling. What we wanted to scream at the world for. He just pours us a drink. I smell dark whiskey. God it hurts to swallow that. We get to the funeral home, and I am beyond drunk. I am barely 10 years old yet and I’m swallowing away the harsh reality that I just lost my best friend. Oh my. Jae looks so handsome in a tux. The viewing and the prayers begin. During prayer, I reach for a tissue in my jacket back but instead I find this golden ring. It was a ring Jae stole from his grandmother to give to me for Christmas. It was like a promise to be by my side forever. It was a childhood love I thought was like the movies. This was my best friend for fucks sakes. We walk outside for the burial. I just see them lowering in the casket. I don’t know what happened but I just run for it. I just couldn’t let reality hit me that my best friend was in the box that was being laid into the ground. I’m running, crying, screaming for them to stop. Danny runs after me and catches me. Holding me back from falling into the ground with Jae. Danny just holds me as I cry like a baby as I just watch the men shovel dirt on top of him. Danny takes me back into the funeral home before they finish. I don’t remember much after that. I just remember waking up in the funeral home, on Danny’s shoulders, in a room with other caskets. God what a great way to wake up. I have a terrible headache and I wake up to see that Danny also fell asleep. His flask was empty. He must have drank himself to sleep. I walk out of the room looking for everyone else. They’re all the lobby. Family and friends giving their condolences to the family as they leave. 

Halmuhnee, please don’t be angry with me. I am truly sorry. Jae had taken this ring from you and gave it to me for Christmas before I left. I am sorry. I didn’t know he had taken this from you. 

All I see are tears down her face. She just tells me to keep it. She says it means more to me now than it does to her. I apologize to their parents for how I behaved during the burial but they are not even upset. They just look at me so poorly. so broken. They understand how I’m feeling. They just give me hugs instead. 

-------

Days go by. Years go by. Jae, there’s not a single day that goes by that I don’t think of you. Oppa, I love you. I wish you were here. I know that if you were here, I wouldn’t be as broken, but you’re not. I have fallen into a dark hole hoping you’d be there to pull me out of my troubles. I remember being younger and always skipping school on your anniversary to be with you and tell you everything that happened that year. Days when I wasn’t able to see you. I know you are watching over me. Danny finished school. After school, your family moved back to Seoul so he could do his service. Danny and I often keep in touch once in the blue moon. Your father is ill. Your mother misses you a lot. Your halmuhnee passed not long after they moved back to Seoul. Danny says that he’s doing the best he can to be better for you. I don’t know what I am doing yet but I am living my life the best I can as if you were still here. 

[dyde21]

Sprinklers

This is a short little Crosshairs and Arkos piece I wrote. SketchHungry has a pretty swell Grease!AU going on for crosshairs I felt like writing something for it. (This also may or may not be a slight bribe to ask SketchHungry for arkos Grease!AU art. >.> But only if they want. xD)  Seriously check out @sketchhungry and their blog here. Also, fair warning. I don’t think I’ve seen Grease all the way through so some dialogue may be awkward and based off my hazy understanding. xD Anyway, enjoy!

XxXxXxXxX

Coco leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee with a sigh. She was currently sitting in the back of her chemistry lab, wracking her brain for any idea. The rest of her group was currently taking care of measuring some chemical reactions. Coco had already done her part, and at the moment had for more important things to ponder. Such as how to capture the interest of a certain brunette.

Leaning forward, she dropped her chin into her hand, blowing her bangs out of her face. For as cool as she was, she had to admit scheming wasn't her strong suit. The two of them ran in different circles, so she couldn't exactly just walk up to Velvet and start talking to her. A cool girl like herself talking to velvet? Rumors would fly around the school like wildfire. Now Coco wasn't too concerned with what losers would say about her, but she had to admit she was a bit concerned about causing trouble for velvet.

She had gone to her little gang earlier, asking their advice but they had all been unhelpful, as usual. Great people to hit the town with, but not exactly the top thinkers of the school. The new guy, Jaune, had actually suggested just talking to her. Saying that making a new friend was more important with what others thought, and that she was cool enough to handle any problem anyway. Coco had to admit to herself that he may be on the right track honestly, but he didn't understand the situation they were in. Coco worked very hard to achieve her status at this school, and she wasn't going to throw it down the drain, and Velvet was also adorably shy so rumors aside, so being direct could still cause problems for the girl.

Taking another sip, memories of Velvet laughing danced through her mind. She just needed a chance to talk to her, surely she could woo her off her feet, right? They just had to be alone when it happened. She needed an excuse to get Velvet alone. Coco toyed with the idea of sending someone to fetch her. Perhaps Jaune? He was still too new to the game, she could easily convince him to help her out. Plus, she'd run interference if he started getting any negative attention for approaching the proper girls and calling them out like that. After a moment, she sighed and dropped her head onto the desk. That was assuming he wouldn't screw it up. As nice as Jaune was, he wasn't exactly the smoothest person. The last thing Coco needed was a problem to come up between Velvet's group and her own. So Jaune was out.

“Coco, pass the sheet. We need to record the results.” Coco's group member said.

Absentmindedly Coco reached over, passing the sheet. Her eyes were still staring off across the room with her gaze locked the back of Velvet's head, trying to form a plan. After a moment, Coco was suddenly aware of the sounds of panic and a strange heat source radiating near her. Looking over, she saw that the sheet of homework was suddenly on fire.

Letting out a yelp, she dropped the sheet onto the table. Which just so happened to land on a notebook which quickly caught on fire as well.

“You passed it through the Bunsen burner!” Weiss's voice scolded as Ruby quickly tried to put out the flame, but only managed to fan it on.

Coco scrambled backwards, attempting to look around for any water. “Quick! Put it out! Before the sprinkl-” She was cut off by the sound of a snap, and soon all the sprinklers in the room had gone off.

The room was full of confused shouts and panicked shrieks as everyone scrambled to gather up anything important and rush out of the downpour.

Coco just stood there for a moment, head in her hands. She had messed up. She quickly gathered up her stuff before heading out as well. The teacher had already told everyone to meet up in the parking lot. As she made her way there, she noticed Velvet was standing off to the side. Alone. And shivering. Judging by the light blouse she was wearing, Coco figured she must have been drenched and freezing.

Figuring it was now or never, Coco quickly made her way over.

Sliding up next to Velvet, she quickly placed a hand on the wall next to her and flashed her a grin.

“Hey Honey Bun. Looking a little cold there, eh? Need some warmth?”  Coco quipped out, a dangerous smile on her face. Secretly on the inside, she was grateful she hadn't flubbed any words. She certainly had practiced those lines enough times on the way over.

Velvet let out a small “eep!” at the sudden appearance of the girl. Noticing how close Coco was, Velvet couldn't help the blush that had crept over her face. “C-c-c-coco right? I didn't see you there. Y-Yeah, I'm a little cold.” She admitted sheepishly.

It was Coco's turn to blush a little. Velvet's shy face was just too damn cute. “Well follow me, I got some spare digs you can put on to warm up.”

Velvet just stared at her in shock for a moment. After a pause, she nodded. “That... sounds good.” She couldn't exactly stay in these wet clothes, right?

Coco just grinned, throwing her arms behind her head as she began to walk out towards where her car was parked.

Velvet hurried quickly behind her, clutching her bag tighter to her chest. She had never had a one on one talk with Coco before. No matter how... interesting she found the bad girl, she couldn't bring herself to talk to her before now. The thrill of sneaking off with her alone now had her heart pounding though. But she was just borrowing a jacket, right?

Soon enough they reached Coco's car as she unlocked it. “I got just what you need here.” She said, fishing through her bag seat.

Standing there curiously, Velvet wasn't sure exactly what to expect. A moment later though Coco reemerged from the car with a spare white t-shirt and a greaser jacket. “Good thing I keep a spare. These should fit you just fine.” She said, offering them to Velvet.

After a moment Velvet reached out and took them. Her dress was thicker and had resisted the water better, but her blouse and jacket had been soaked so this was just what she needed. “Are you sure?” She asked after a moment's hesitation.

Coco just grinned. “Of course I am, Honey Buns. What kind of woman would I be if I left someone like you shivering?” She asked with a wink, causing a blush to once again overtake Velvet.

Velvet quickly looked around, before seeing the bathroom. She quickly sped off towards them in order to change as Coco locked her car and moved towards them to wait.

A minute later Velvet had reemerged. “I think I look ridiculous.” She complained gently, twirling around.

Coco lowered her glasses on her face, letting out a whistle. “Nah, I dig it. You look smoking.” It was true. Coco had to admit Velvet looked hot. Her jacket fit the brunette surprisingly well. She couldn't handle it as a blush crept on her face. “That's a good look on you. Maybe that weird accident was a good thing.”

Velvet paused. “Accident? Didn't you set your work on fire?” Velvet asked, tilting her head.

Coco froze, her face turning scarlet. “I h-have no idea what you mean! The sprinklers just went off.”

“I'm pretty sure I sa-”

“Nah, it was an accident! Things happen in a science class, no one knows what's going on.” Coco said scrambling to come up with an excuse.

Velvet just giggled, covering her hand with her mouth. The tough Coco getting flustered was pretty cute.

Coco wracked her brain again, attempting to come up with any sort of new topic. “Bowling!” She exclaimed suddenly, causing Velvet to jump at the outburst. “W-What?”

Coco smirked. “Me and the guys are going bowling tonight. You should join us, it'll be fun.” She offered, her smirk returning to her face.

Velvet paused, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “M-maybe. I don't know...” It was a rather tempting offer.

Throwing an arm around Velvet's shoulders, Coco grinned. “Come on, we'll show you a real fun night out on the town. You could use one, trust me.” She said with a wink.

After a moment Velvet just nodded. It certainly seemed like a good offer. She was only young for so long after all.

Coco smirked. “Good deal.” She said as she moved her arm back. She began to walk back towards the rest of the group, still working out the plans with velvet.

Across the school, Pyrrha found herself shivering as she pulled her cardigan closer around herself. She had been stuck in the back of the room when the sprinklers went off, and had been one of the last ones out. She had went to look for spare clothes, but her locker had been empty. She had forgotten she had taken her spare ones home to wash yesterday. The redhead wasn't looking forward to being cold for the rest of the day. Maybe she could borrow some from Nora later.

As she turned the corner, the last thing she had expected was someone to come crashing into her.

Letting out a soft “oof” she fell onto her butt. She quickly tried to stand up. “I'm sorry!” Pyrrha apologized reflexively. She must have not been paying attention. Her eyes fell to the blonde boy that was sprawled out on the ground. Noting his greaser jacket, her eyes narrowed just a bit. Those boys could be trouble from time to time.

However, when his eyes widened and her looked at her with a goofy smile her heart skipped a beat. “No I'm sorry! I was late so I was in a rush. My dumb car broke down so I had to walk to school. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.”

Pyrrha shook her head. “It was just an accident. No harm, no foul.” She said, offering him a hand up.

The boy took it gratefully, standing up. “I'm glad you're not hurt.”

Pyrrha just nodded, quirking an eyebrow. He certainly didn't seem to be like the other greasers. Another gust of wind blew by, causing Pyrrha to shiver again. Right. Wet clothes.

She was about to say goodbye to the boy when she felt something warm drape around her shoulders. Reaching over, she felt the leather with her hand. Looking up confused, she saw the boy step back with a sheepish smile. “You looked cold. I thought you could use a jacket.”

She glanced him over once, seeing him frame in now just a white T-shirt. It was subtle, but he was in surprisingly good shape. She bit her lip slightly. “Well that's very sweet of you to do for a stranger.”

The boy shrugged. “My mom always said... uh... I mean. You know what they say. Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet.”

Pyrrha just giggled a little before nodding. “Wise words.” It wasn't often you heard greasers talk about their mom. He certainly was a bit of a weird one.

“Well I'm pleased to meet you, I'm Pyrrha Nikos.”

The blonde grinned, shaking her hand. “Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, and the ladies love it.”

Pyrrha just giggled again. Even his cocky words came out more goofy than arrogant in his tone. “I'm sure they do.”

After a moment Jaune scratched the back of his head. “Well I should get going. We're all going bowling tonight, I can't go if I get detention for missing classes.”

Pyrrha just nodded. “Bowling certainly would be fun.” She said with a soft sigh.

Tilting his head, Jaune looked at her for a moment. “If you think so you should join us!” He said, flashing her his goofy grin again.

Eyes widening, Pyrrha was cut off guard. She was rarely invited out to events. Usually people found her unapproachable, seeing her as “too good” to hang out with them. Or it was from cocky guys who had nothing but lecherous thoughts in their mind. But Jaune just seemed friendly.

“I would hate to intrude on your night out with your friends.” Pyrrha explained after a moment.

Jaune just shrugged. “The more the merrier! It'll be fun. You can bring some of your friends as well. I'm sure Coco won't mind.”

Pyrrha just stared at him for a moment, before rolling her eyes. His eager expression was impossible to say no to. “Sure. That sounds lovely Jaune.” Secretly, she was thrilled to have the chance to get to know this amusing boy some more. He certainly seemed like someone she wanted to get to know. Just who was this goof in a greaser jacket?

Jaune just waved as he started to walk away. “It's at the alley, at 7:30. We're all meeting up there.”

Quickly reaching out, Pyrrha grabbed his hand. “Wait! Your jacket.” She said, it still draped over her shoulders.

Jaune just shrugged. “Give it back to me tonight. You need it more than I do right now.”

Once again, Pyrrha was caught off guard. Normally their jackets were something they took seriously. “You trust me with this jacket?” She asked incredulously.

Jaune nodded. “You seem like I can trust you. Just... try to keep it looking good, okay? I saved up forever and my mom would be so ma-” He paused, blushing red. “I mean... uh. Take good care of my threads, ya dig? I'm trusting you with them.” He repeated in a slightly deeper tone.

Pyrrha stifled another giggle. He must have be close to his mom. Certainly not the usual greaser. “You have my word. I'll see you tonight then.” She promised. Pyrrha noticed the faintest blush dust his cheeks as he nodded and quickly made his way towards his classes.

As Pyrrha began to make her way back towards the meeting spot, she pulled his jacket a little tighter over her shoulders. Jaune, huh? Red tinted her cheeks as his goofy smile was stuck in her head. She was certainly looking forward to tonight.

When she met up with her friends after a moment, she saw Velvet sporting a similar jacket. They looked at each other, down at their respective jackets, before giggling. It seems they had some planning to day after school today.

XxXxXxXxX

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Just wanted to get a short little one shot for them. They really make some adorable work so it’s worth checking out if you have the chance! :D 

[kazziemuse]

Big Bang Theory 10x23 spoilers

Spoilers Below!

Shamy were incredibly cute in this episode. It really marks how much they have grown to rely on one another, especially Sheldon. Amy has the offer for a 3 month placement at Princeton. She is incredibly excited about it but also incredibly nervous to approach Sheldon about the subject. She talks about it with the girls and and urge her to go for it, Its an opportunity she cant refuse. Amy is obviously concerned about leaving Sheldon on his own. Long story short, The guys have finished phase 1 of their military project and they are excited to start the second phase. They arrive at the university in high spirits to get started only find their lab had completely been emptied. The guys are pretty upset to find the military are responsible for this. The military had decided to take the project into their own hands and the guys were no longer needed. Sheldon, Howard and Leonard are heading back up to the apartment in low spirits, The enter the apartment to find it completely empty, Nothing there at all. Exactly the same situation as walking into their lab. They are all visibly confused and re-visting the earlier trauma before they realise they are still on the third floor and walked into he wrong apartment by mistake. They cautiously enter 4A and are relived to see the familiar surroundings and the rest of the gang there. They join their respected wives (and raj). Everyone tried to comfort the guys after losing their project but they insist on changing the subject. Penny pointed out that Amy had some news to which the attention points to her. As Sheldon is upset she doesn't want to break the Princeton news to him just yet and shifts focus on Raj's news on him moving out of 4A and moving in with Bert as his roommate. The girls are walking in the park with Bernadette pushing Hally in her push chair. They are urging Amy to go to Princeton and how she cant miss this opportunity, Sheldon will be fine. Bernadette expresses her concern for Howard as he has become incredibly needy and clingy since losing the military project. After some more dialog with Amy, Howard is seen to run over and join the girls. He greets Bernadette with hugs and kisses reinforcing Bernadette's earlier concerns about his behavior. We cut to 4B. Its the next day and Amy is cooking oatmeal for Sheldon. She is hoping to cheer him up with food he likes to approach the subject of Princeton to him. Sheldon enters and he is still pretty down about the project, He apologizes that his bowel movements have not been to schedule. Amy comforts him and serves him up his oatmeal just as he likes it, Plain. She advises Sheldon he should take this opportunity to shift focus onto another project. Sheldon seems to light up at this idea and suggest they start working more on their joint research. Amy knowing this would be near impossible if she was leave shoots down the idea quickly stating that if they proved the theory, They are still paying $3 for a loaf of bread at the end of it anyway so whats the rush. Sheldon immediately becomes suspicious she Amy rejects the notion of spending more time together and feeding him his favorite oatmeal. He confronts her and asks her whats going on. Amy finally spills that she has an opportunity to go to Princeton on a research project for 3-4 months. Sheldon immediately tells her she must go but he is visibly troubled by her leaving. He is trying to support the idea but he snaps and storms off to the bedroom. He is totally not ok with it. Howard and Bernadette are at home and Hoard is continuing to be needy and clingy. Bernadette decides it time they have a talk about his behavior. This is a very cute scene as Howard acknowledges his behavior but completely turns it around to prove to Bernadette does exactly the same thins when she loses work project. One example is that it lead to them having Hally. Bernadette is apologetic and immediately gives into Howards neediness. The roll onto the bed kissing. Next, We see Leonard assisting Raj with moving his boxed downstairs. As they approach the 3rd floor they can here someone playing harmonic from within 3A. They both enter to see Sheldon sitting alone of the floor playing the harmonica. He is incredibly sad and expresses that everyone and everything is leaving him. He lost his project, he is losing his girlfriend.. He is sad and alone. Raj suggest with him now gone, Sheldon could move back into his old room so Sheldon doesn't have to be alone. Leonard asks to speak to Raj out in the hallway for a moment and instead shuts the door behind Raj so he was out of the room. Leonard sits next to Sheldon to offer him advice on what to do with Amy. He tells him that he is not losing her and that Amy will only be gone a few months and he needs to show her how much of a supportive boyfriend he can be. 4B and amy is sitting on the couch on her computer. Sheldon enters holding a suitcase as a gift he got for Amy. He tells her this is an opportunity she cant refuse and as a supportive boyfriend he wants her to go, He got her this case that has been tested to survive a plane crash, So maybe Amy should trade inside the case. Amy stands up and is taken aback by his gesture. She walks towards him and asks him if he is really sure about this and he says. "Sheldon!" Amy says in inviting tone while wrapping her arms around him and planting a kiss on him. They kiss (very much like the Harry potter robe kiss) in one another arms until Sheldon breaks off and says, "I know its not your birthday, but we could continue this with intimate love making: (Disclaimer, This is not the actual line, and I for the love of me cant remember what he actually said, so this is just a guide to what happened in this scene, But y'all will die okay?). Amy agrees to coitus but only if Sheldon is sure to which he is. They continue kissing and Sheldon pulls back quickly to reinforce something. "Just know, This coitus is in no way a ploy to get you to stay" Its a very tender scene and the delivery is very sweet. Amy smiles at Sheldon and acknowledges that she understands. Sheldon goes onto say because when she is at princeton, He cant give her this, And he cant give her his goods via Skype. Amy smiles mischievously. Sheldon says "so lets go to the bedroom, Take off our cloths, fold them neatly and make passionate love". (Again not actual words but very close". He takes her hand and leads Amy to the bedroom, while they are making their way there, Amy says in caught a naught tone, "How about we take off our cloths, DONT fold them up neatly and then make passionate love" Still hand in hand they stop at the door ways and Sheldon responds in a very Sexual way, "or how about we Do fold up our clothes" Hand and hand they walk into the bedroom. Next scene is Raj in the hallway saying goodbye to Penny and Leonard at the door. They get interrupted when Sheldon shouts from 4B Bedroom " Oh Amy you naughty Vixen". The guys seem disturbed with what was going on next door, Someone suggested going in there to see what was happening but after amy shouts out something like "Oh Sheldon, that is a great method to cause forward stimulation" (Again I cant remember what exactly it was but it was something science-y turned sexy". The guys just all look on with a "nope" look on their faces.. It ends with Sheldon shouting WOOHOOOO. 4B and Amy is ready to leave. Sheldon is upset but he's trying to be supportive. He walks her down to the car telling her to call him as soon as she gets to the airport, "I Will" And to the gate? "I will", And when you arrive in New Jersey? "I Will".. The last line was Sheldon.. "And if you meet another scientist as smart as me and as tall as me, I want you to step away from him and call me immediately"

End 

-Kaz 

[drades-lair]

Mental - Part 7

Author: Drade666

Rating: T

Warnings: Violence, language, mentions of sex

Pairing: Michael x Male reader

Fandom: Supernatural

Other:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

2 weeks later…

(Y/N) sat at his laptop scrolling through various websites when Michael appeared with a flutter of wings near the counter in the small kitchenette. Once again the archangel had bought groceries for him however instead of drop and go ever since they’d started sleeping together he was sticking around more. (Y/N) smiled over at Michael who started putting things away although he appeared curious to what (Y/N) was doing cause he kept looking over at him with a questioning look until finally striding over to look over (Y/N)’s shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked curiously

“I’m doing research…” (Y/N) absently answered still staring at the screen

“On?” Michael pressed, one hand resting on the back of the chair (Y/N) was sitting in for support as he leaned over the young man’s shoulder.

“The people who did this to me,” (Y/N) semi explained

“Ugh, (Y/N) let it go…they were a bunch of misguided terrible people, who I might add probably perished in that fire,” Michael groaned out as he stood up straight, making his way back over to the kitchenette to continue putting away the groceries.

“Not all…check this out,” (Y/N) corrected him, turning his laptop around so Michael could see the screen revealing a news article with a woman’s picture on it.

“Who’s that?” Michael inquired upon seeing the lady

“Her name’s Janice Walsh, head researcher or rather manager of the now decrepit ruin formally known as the packaging factory where I’d been held,” (Y/N) cockily stated in an ‘I told you’ sort of fashion

“You found her? Where is she?” Michael suddenly became very interested as he finished putting the groceries away then returned to (Y/N)’s side.

“She’s living and working in a small town not too far from here actually…and guess what...they have a strange factory there too that supposedly spits out dead bodies at night,” (Y/N) smirked as his eyes flashed yellow momentarily.

Michael frowned slightly at knowing full well that (Y/N) was about to go after this woman however in going after her sure (Y/N) may get his revenge but he may also get more than he bargained for. Later that same afternoon (Y/N) finished packing up the beat up old pickup truck that he drove with various supplies including some weapons just in case things got hairy although he was pretty certain all he needed was his own hands to get the job done. Michael agreed to meet (Y/N) in the town at the ‘Raging Motel’ that sat on the boarder of it and the highway which (Y/N) agreed to as he drove off down said highway having a good 2 hours to stew in his own rage towards the woman who’d done this to him. Eight O’clock hit just as (Y/N) was pulling into a parking spot at the motel, putting his truck in park the young hybrid hopped out of the vehicle without turning it off so as to pay for a motel room at the front office then he jumped back into his truck to head towards his room’s parking spots. Dumping everything into the room (Y/N) immediately flipped open his laptop to start looking up some more information on the good doctor when Michael appeared in the room, striding over to (Y/N) smoothly but the young man barely acknowledged the archangel’s presence.

“Seriously? More research on her? You know enough…besides I’ll be with you…what do you say we relax for the night?” Michael suggested walking around behind (Y/N) to start massaging the younger man’s shoulders.

“I can’t relax…that bitch is finally in my sights! I won’t waste this opportunity!” (Y/N) snarled at his laptop screen.

“And you won’t…but if you go into this all tensed up and tired you may do just that,” Michael reasoned

“Hmm…” (Y/N) hummed as he closed his eyes to the feeling of Michael’s fingers working wonders on his stiff shoulders.

“That’s it…try to relax,” Michael cooed

“I’ve got a better idea!” (Y/N) barked suddenly spinning around to grab Michael’s face, crashing their lips together.

Shoving the chair out of the way (Y/N) shoved Michael backwards to the nearest wall which happened to be beside the bathroom. The kiss was all teeth from the get go, (Y/N)’s tongue sliding inside Michael’s mouth to deepen it as Michael’s hands hesitated momentarily in the air before sinking to his sides against the wall. (Y/N) pulled from the kiss to nip down Michael’s neck making growling sounds that were certainly inhuman granted he’d given up on being human a long time ago, they mingled with Michael’s breathy moans.

“Should we…really be doing this…tonight...?” Michael inquired breathily

“Shut…up…!” (Y/N) growled, feeling Michael’s pulse through his neck (Y/N) could smell his blood rushing through the angel’s veins causing his duel fangs to descend and before he could stop himself, (Y/N) was clamping down on Michael’s jugular.

“AH! (Y/N)!” Michael gasped out, instantly bringing his hands up to tangle in the hybrid’s hair

(Y/N) pulled back revealing a red stain around his mouth as blood dripped down his chin, eyes yellow as he licked his lips then straight up Michael’s neck. (Y/N) was pretty certain people throughout the motel heard them that evening but he didn’t give a crap but soon they ended up unconscious on the motel room bed, come morning the rays of early morning sunlight woke them up. (Y/N) grunted in aggravation to the interruption to his slumber but ultimately rubbed a hand over his face then swung his legs over the edge of the bed to get up while Michel continued to sleep next to him, curled on his side with just a sheet over his midsection. (Y/N) huffed a laugh then stood up taking a glance around at the messy state of the motel room, clothing strewn about along with bedding, the table was tipped over, and there was a hole in the wall! Oops, there goes that deposit along with the slight blood stains left all over the place that made (Y/N) glance back at Michael who was sporting several hickeys that had actually been bite marks last night. Chuckling to himself (Y/N) made his way into the washroom for a shower then a cup of coffee before heading out to hunt!

Just outside of town later that evening…

A large grime covered white brick building with dark brown accents stands in the middle of a field looking like the factory from a horror movie. The words ‘Rhymes Packaging Plant’ is written on the side in dilapidated looking lettering, half falling off of the building from age yet there were 4 cars parked outside it indicating there was indeed life inside. (Y/N) laid low in the brush not too far from the building having parked his truck up the road about 15 minutes away he carried a back pack filled with various weapons, a holster on his hip held his pistol and there was two different knives concealed on his person as well basically he was ready for anything. Watching carefully (Y/N) had noticed that there wasn’t too much activity out front however in the back…he’d witnessed several people in white lab coats emerge with large black plastic garbage bags that they dumped into a large green dumpster and there was a large familiar white panel van out back. (Y/N) started to slowly creep forwards once 3 of the cars left, the final vehicle matched the description of the current vehicle Janice drove indicating she was possibly still inside…this was it…time to strike! Creeping towards the building (Y/N) quickly slipped around one of the sides, he didn’t need to worry about security as he’d not seen anything outside although fairly certain once inside there would be camera’s everywhere meaning he needed an in...That’s when the basement cellar door caught his attention, perfect. (Y/N) slinked his way to the double cellar doors that had a chain looped around the metal handles sporting a lock, grabbing firmly around the pathetic little lock with one hand (Y/N) yanked hard on it instantly busting it with his strength. Taking a final glance around to assure he’d not been seen (Y/N) slipped into the basement revealing a basic boiler room like he’d hoped meaning there’d be no security down there allowing for some preparation before heading upstairs for the finale. After heading upstairs (Y/N) found exactly what he’d expected to find, the dreary basement atmosphere giving way to pristine white halls with tiled flooring, stainless steel doors, all of it sterile…to sterile for a factory or packaging plant…no this was a laboratory.

Carefully skulking through the halls (Y/N) made certain to avoid the cameras eventually coming to an office. Glancing through the small window at the top of the door (Y/N) saw her...sitting at a large oak desk was the brunette woman he remembered from his past, hair pulled up in a bun wearing black rimmed glasses she sat reading over some papers. (Y/N) slowly reached for his pistol in his holster when suddenly a hand clamped around his own causing him to whip his head around barely avoiding an elbow to the face upon doing so, taking a swing of his own (Y/N) managed to break the man’s hold allowing (Y/N) to get away from him a few feet revealing the man to be a large menacing figure, all muscle with short black hair like a military reject. (Y/N) took a couple deep breaths as he took a stance ready to fight when the man’s eyes flashed black taking the young hybrid off guard a little that’s when Dr. Welsh’s door opened and she came striding out with a cocky grin on her features.

“Skulking around my halls…how rude of you…(Y/N),” Dr. Welsh cooed

“You remember me?” (Y/N) asked in shocked surprise

“I do indeed…one never forgets one’s failures,” Dr. Welsh scoffed

“Bitch!” (Y/N) growled

“Wait…or were you?” Suddenly the good doctor’s expression shifted to one of fascinated intrigue

“You almost killed me! You stuck me in a mental hospital!” (Y/N) barked out in anger as his eyes turned yellow and his nails turned to claws.

“Son of a bitch, it worked! You did take on the DNA transference!” Dr. Welsh exclaimed excitedly

“Yeah…and now…I’m going to use it to kill you!” (Y/N) snarled

With the threat the black eyed man charged (Y/N) who whipped his head towards the larger man but just as he reached the young man, (Y/N) shoved a hand to the man’s chest instantly fisting it in his shirt then hoisted the black eyed man over (Y/N)’s own body to flip him onto his back on the ground on the other side. The dark haired, black eyed man let out a grunt of pain as his back broke the tiles beneath his body upon landing on them with force, (Y/N) knelt on one knee with his head bowed as the doctor screamed in shocked horror instantly drawing his attention towards her with a snarl that revealed his fangs. (Y/N) released the man on the ground only to take off towards Dr. Welsh at full speed making her stumble backwards until hitting the office door with fear plastered on her features however just as (Y/N) was about to make the final blow his body was swept off his feet as if an invisible force smacked him square in the chest sending him flying through the air only to skid across the slick tiled floor with a grunt of pain upon hitting them. Choking a little as he tried to get back the breath that had been knocked from his lungs (Y/N) managed to glance up revealing that next to the doctor was now another figure wearing a suit slowly walking towards him as the dress shoes clicked along the tiles. Shaking his head to clear the haze (Y/N) tried to focus but it was difficult yet he could make out the Scottish accent that was coating the man’s words as he spoke.

“Sorry mate…can’t have you hurting my number one researcher,” The man crooned

“Get away from him!” barked a familiar voice as the man was tossed through the air in a similar fashion that (Y/N) had been. Whipping his head around (Y/N) saw the familiar form of Michael who was standing poised with his angel blade drawn, snarling at the doctor and man.

“Bloody hell! Yeesh, can’t we just talk this over like civilized monsters?” The man inquired snidely as he got back up from where he’d landed. (Y/N) also managed to get back on his feet now with Michael coming alongside him.

“We need to leave! NOW!” Michael barked catching (Y/N) off guard

“What? Why?” (Y/N) wondered with a furrow of his brow towards the archangel

“Don’t ask questions! We need to get out of here!” Michael insisted, shoving himself between (Y/N) and the group.

“Why? Who is that?” (Y/N) asked having noticed that Michael recognized the man in the suit

“That’s Crowley! A demon!” Michael quickly answered

“Please…king of hell, darling,” Crowley corrected from across the room, dusting himself off then tucking his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Look, I’ll explain later but for now we have to…” Michael began in an urgent tone only to be cut off when he was tossed to the side straight into one of the white walls with a grunt of pain upon hitting it so hard he cracked it.

“NO! Michael!” (Y/N) cried out only to be flicked through the air himself once again only this time he was flung into the wall next to the stainless steel doors at the end of the hall.

Groaning on his hands and knees (Y/N) managed to stay conscious although as he was recovering from the hit he heard a scream from Michael causing his attention to be drawn directly in the direction of the cry. Crowley had Michael firmly in a head lock while after having clearly relieved the archangel of his blade that now lay on the ground a few feet away, watching in anger (Y/N) watched as Crowley firmly knocked Michael across the back of the head causing the archangel to fall unconscious immediately.

“Thank you for bringing this wonderful specimen to me…he’ll be far better than you,” Crowley snickered as he heaved Michael’s unconscious body to the black eyed demon behind him.

“NO!” (Y/N) cried out as he struggled to his feet but by the time he got to them Crowley snapped his fingers and the group was gone.

Suddenly panic rose in (Y/N)’s gut as he realized that Crowley now had Michael and who knew what the bastard had planned for him.  

[chimchimchoo]

Sightless :: 2

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 2,046

Pair: Yoongi x Jimin

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)

“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.

Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.

But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”

A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.

JIMIN

2 years later

“Oh god, here he comes.”

Jimin responded with a loud giggle as he drank his juice box, hearing footsteps approaching. “Taehyung, honestly, you really think we’re going to let you sit with us after that stupid prank you pulled yesterday?” Jin tapped his fingers on the table in annoyance, giving the boy an angry glare.

“Oh come on, covering the professor’s office with toilet paper and pictures of my ass isn’t the worst thing I’ve ever done.” The comment sent Jimin sputtering out his drink, drowning in his own laughter.

“Oh man, I wish I could have seen that.” He wiped his tears away.

“What kind of sick humor is that, Jimin?” Jungkook coughed so suddenly by his response.

“Jin let him sit with us. He did a good deed, no one liked that professor anyway.” Hoseok protested as Jimin pat on the empty seat beside him, motioning Taehyung to sit.

“Oh Jimin, you won’t let Jin punish me will you?” He whined dramatically, wrapping his arms around the boy so suddenly, he almost dropped his juice box. “No, in fact, I’m at the point of disliking this professor so much, I’d do it with you.”

“Now that’s a real friend, you hear me?” Taehyung smothered Jimin, rubbing his cheek against his.

“They’re like a married couple, it’s so gross.” Namjoon muttered, flipping through his overly large math textbook.

Jimin’s best friends, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jin and Jungkook were the entire world to him. The only reason he was still living his everyday life like nothing ever happened was because of those friends with the absolute worst sense of humor.

Without them, he didn’t know where he would be right now.

They were able to help him get through almost everything except for one thing.

“Tae, what time is it?”

Taehyung glanced at his watch. “Almost 2.”

“I gotta get going to class, I’ll see you all later.” Jimin sat up from the bench, pulling out his white cane.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

He tossed his juice box in the trash bin by the table he sat at, five steps away. Over time, he learned to memorize the location of different items in his everyday life by counting the number of steps.

“Call me later! I’m going to need your help with the writing project!” Hoseok shouted as Jimin waved goodbye to them, making his way toward the music building.

Slowly, but surely, Jimin was able to find his way around the university without much struggle, but he still had some days where he would accidently take the wrong step and become so disoriented, it threw him into a state of panic.

It took him nearly half a year to be talked into using braille textbooks and voice automatic electronics and it took him even longer to accept that his eyesight was gone forever. He was on a waitlist for donors, but the eyes were the hardest to come across, Jimin gave up hope long ago.

Two years passed since the accident, Jimin slowly forgot what colors looked like, what kind of expressions his friends made and at one point, he completely forgot what his own face looked like.

Jimin’s friends grew used to his sudden and constant touches, eventually understanding that he used it to recognize their faces and differentiate between them.

He stopped at the 43rd step and opened the door to the music building, strolling into the warm hallway in contrast to the cool, fall air outside. It was quiet and peaceful, everyone was already in their own classes, practicing their instrument or memorizing a dance routine

When Jimin turned the corner, something slammed into him so suddenly; knocking the wind right out of him.

“Watch where you’re going.” Jimin sat up from the floor, moving his hands around for the cane and the sunglasses that flew off his nose. Still self-conscious about walking around with eyes that looked slightly different from others on display, Jimin wore dark glasses to keep them covered. Whether he was in or outside, for as long as Jimin was out of his apartment, he never took them off.

“You watch where you’re going.” The voice muttered harshly, shuffling up from the floor, brushing off his clothes.

Jimin’s fingers eventually came in contact with his white cane, lifting himself up from the ground. Based on the location of the voice, Jimin faced in his direction with a scowl. “You were the one that came crashing into me, you should apologize.”

“Oh god...what happened to your eyes?” He heard the person ask with slight disgust as Jimin quickly slid the glasses back on. His irises were white and cloudy, not exactly the most common color out there. “That’s none of your business.” Jimin snapped.

“Whatever, I’m going to be late for my piano class thanks to you.” The figure walked past Jimin, purposely smacking into his shoulder.

“Wrong direction buddy, second floor, third door to your left.” Jimin heard an annoyed groan but couldn’t help but smile when he heard the figure retract his steps, walking in the opposite direction.

Brushing himself off, Jimin extended out his hand, feeling the wall beside him and searched for the nearest door to read the room number, figuring out how far down the hall he walked.

Getting himself back on track, Jimin stepped through the quiet hall until he reached the door to his classroom, swinging it open before striding in. He bowed to the professor and apologized for his tardiness.

All he could hear was a faint groan of embarrassment coming from the back of the room as the professor instructed him to sit down. Jimin mazed through the chairs until he came upon his familiar spot, sitting down as he slid off his bag.

“Are you kidding me?” The voice whispered harshly beside Jimin and he could only reply with a snicker. “You’re seriously taking piano classes out of everything else this building has to offer?”

“Judging by the sound of your voice, you must be a new student.” He whispered back. “So if you want to get technical, I was here first.”

“Jimin!” The professor boomed. “Since you were late for class, you get the honor of partnering with the new transfer beside you, Min Yoongi.”

“Ah, so that’s your name, Yoongi.” He could practically feel the boy beside him roll his eyes in response.

“Now, this is important, I want you all to get to know your partners, collaborate on a music sheet together, produce a new song and perform it with the piano at the end of this term, understand?”

“Aye.” Some students shouted.

“Also, you are required to come in for lab on Saturdays and get your piano practices out of the way, got it?” The entire class had scattered responses, the majority of them groaning in protest. Out of them all, one student raised their hand.

“Yes Jimin?”

“Sir, what if we can’t come in on Saturdays?”

“Then you and your partner will just have to arrange a time to meet elsewhere if you won’t be on campus that day, this is a huge part of your grade, I will need reports to prove you’ve done your lab hours.”

“But professor,” Jimin began, his voice growing shaky. “What if we can’t meet anyone on Saturdays, period?”

“Is there something you’d like to tell me, Jimin? Something more important you must do?”

Jimin sat quietly and bit his lip, debating on how to respond to the question. “Nevermind.” He said with a defeated tone.

“Alright, then let's move on, everyone get to your pianos. Jimin, unfortunately, we had to rearrange the room so Yoongi will show you the way to Piano B.”

He heard the professor shouting out instructions to other students. The sounds of footsteps and students turning the pages of their music books filled the air. The class scattered to their assigned pianos, the light melody created by piano keys echoed.

“Uh, okay. The piano's right next to us, but I have a question.” Jimin heard paper rustling from the person beside him, assuming Yoongi was flipping through a notebook of some sort. “I’ve written out a bunch of drafts,” He felt the notebook being shoved in his hands. “Should we just go off of one of these?”

Jimin scoffed quietly, baffled by the person called Yoongi. He was amazed how dense this boy was, as if the glasses and the white cane wasn’t already scream ‘I’m blind’. “I’m not quite sure if you noticed this yet.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “I’m actually blind. Like straight up ‘I have no idea how ugly you might be’ blind. I’m going to have a little trouble reading this music sheet. Why don’t you play the song for me instead?”

Yoongi ended up a stuttering mess, unable to return a comeback of sorts. Jimin grinned with pride as felt a faint breeze just inches away from his face. “You don’t believe me do you? You know, I may be blind but I can actually feel your hand moving in front of my face you idiot.

Jimin stood up from his seat, pulling out the white cane as he carefully maneuvered himself through the cluster of chairs with an occasional but helpful directional shout from Yoongi behind him. He eventually found his way to the piano, running his finger along the carved wood until they reached the slick keys.

He pressed a key and closed his eyes, feeling the sound resonate through his bones. Despite the lack of eyesight, closing his eyes still gave him that sense of focus and gifted him the ability to hear the sound of each chord even better.

His fingers began to hover across the keyboard, pressing the different notes as he legs ached to dance to the melody. After a moment of getting lost into the song, it came to an end and Jimin’s hands slid off the keyboard, landing into his lap.

“Alright, warm up time is over, show me what you got.”

Jimin slid down the long bench, his hands searching for the edge in order to know how far he could go without the risk of falling off. Patting the empty seat beside him, he gestured Yoongi to join as a body shuffled beside him. Jimin heard him crack his knuckles a few times and then the first key could be heard. And then the second. And then the third.

Eventually Jimin made out a melody, one that was all too familiar to him.

One that made his head grow dizzy.

He could see it all flash back in an instant. The headlights, the glass shattering, his body crushed against the weight of the car seat.

A hand flew up suddenly, landing right on the board where Yoongi’s hands were, silencing the song with the gong of multiple piano keys being pressed at once. Momentarily, the classroom grew silent and then continued chattering like nothing happened.

“What’s your problem?” He heard a sharp whisper beside him as Yoongi pulled his hands off the piano.

Jimin’s expression quickly changed as he let out a joking laugh, the nausea slowly fading away. “I was messing with you, just to see if you were the jumpy kind or not.” He let the lie roll out of his tongue, hoping Yoongi wouldn’t further question it. “Let’s move on the composing, I’ll let you do the honors of writing it.”

The class lingered on, Jimin dancing his fingers along the keys, searching for a melody that flowed as Yoongi, biting his tongue, scribbled his pencil across the notebook. Music notes were drawn up and down the scale. Some scratched out, some erased and written over repetitively.

The two boys bickered back and forth, agreeing and disagreeing on certain ideas and compositions that they could come up with. At one point while Yoongi was shuffling through his backpack to search for his iPod, Jimin dozed off over the piano, his nose hovering over one of the white keys.

With an offended scoff, Yoongi pulled out his ipod. Was he really that boring to work with? Nudging him roughly, Jimin shot up, shaking his head to compose himself and quickly apologized to Yoongi with an embarrassed grin.

The professor's voice boomed over the sound of multiple pianos as the class grew still, listening attentively. He sent out a reminder to the class to have a certain amount of the composition done by next Tuesday and to complete their required Saturday lab.

As students shuffled, packing up their books and pouring out of the classroom, Jimin slowly lifted up his bag, setting it on his lap.

“Do you…use the phone?”

Jimin glanced in the direction of the hesitant voice, rising up his eyebrow questionably. “Of course I do, I’m not that dumb.”

“Then give it to me, you’re going to need my number, no?”

Jimin slid his hand into the familiar pocket of his bag, where he always kept his phone and pulled it out, handing it to the air beside him, waiting for Yoongi to grab it. When the device was taken out of his hands, Jimin sat patiently as he inserted his information into it, sending himself a text to obtain Jimin’s number as well.

“So, when on Saturday works best for you? I prefer the afternoon because I actually like to sleep in on weekends.” Yoongi set the phone back in Jimin’s hand as he responded with a stutter, unable to find a reply.

“Well I mean, if you’re a morning person...I guess we can work something out.”

“What about Friday?” He suddenly boasted.

“Tomorrow? Sorry kid, I got a studio class.”

Jimin bit his lip as a nervous habit, racking through his mind for a way to get himself out of Saturday’s lab. Everything he could think of just sounded like lame excuses. Sighing heavily, he ran a hand through his pumpkin hair. “Does four work?”

“Four it is.” He heard Yoongi standing up from his seat, his footsteps fading further away from him. “Meet me in this room.” It was the last thing Jimin heard before he left the classroom, leaving the boy alone in utter silence.

Well shit, that complicated things.