#tron's forehead lives

[mrlimesapper]

TRON: Uprising Forehead Chart (With Bonus)

People seemed to enjoy big brain Tron so I made a comparison chart with some of the other characters. Thank you also to Supervision in the Tron Community Discord for asking the important question of, "What would Tesler look like with a hat?" So I had to do my take on that.

[yourleaderandbeacon]

Title: Creature Comforts Pairing: Clu x Dyson Summary: Dyson, having been shaken by events in Argon, seeks comfort from his Luminary. Notes: Takes place at the end of, and immediately following the events of Scars pt. 2. Slightly AU. Rating: F for general fluff     Clu hears the doors to his throne room open and he knows from the footsteps alone who it is. “I have returned from Argon with a message from an Old Friend. I saw him with my own eyes.” Clu looks over his shoulder at Dyson, whose head is bowed out of respect. But the Luminary hears the wavering in that voice he knows otherwise to be so confident.     “Tron…Lives.” Clu has had suspicions based on the reports he got from Argon. But at the same time, Clu knew this…Renegade was not Tron. “Interesting… Who else knows about this?” Clu hears the disc being drawn and the single Sentry being derezzed.  

 “Nobody…only us.” And there is so much emotion on that last syllable that it compels Clu into action. He turns and holds his arms open, “Come here, Dyson.” And then Dyson moves to close the distance, trusting himself to those arms which fold about him.     “Good. Let’s keep it that way.” Clu almost purrs as he rests his cheek against Dyson’s head. No one else but them need know that their Old Friend still lived to resist them. Especially since it was more than likely said Friend would be joining them all too soon.     “Sir?” Clu lifts his head to look the Guard in the eye. Dyson’s hands travel up Clu’s arms to his shoulders. Gloved fingers line in red cradle the Luminary’s face and then Clu is not quite prepared for the sensation of a mouth pressed against his own. But he adjusts accordingly to return the gesture.     Their lips part just enough to maintain closeness but to allow them use of their mouths. “If I may be so bold as to request some downtime? Given…recent events, I need some time to myself.” “I understand, Dyson, but you know where to find me should you need the presence of another.” Clu replies as his gloved fingers brush over one particular side of the Black Guard’s face.     “He was…so different then what I remember, Clu. One of his eyes looked dead from scarring but…there was such…anger in them. Directed at me.” And Dyson moved his hands from Clu’s face. The Liberator raised an eyebrow before pressing a small, light kiss to Dyson’s forehead. “He’ll come around eventually. Take all the time you need.”

    “Thank you, sir.” And Dyson makes no move to pull away once the request has been approved and Clu makes no move to make him.

[momokohoa]

Rottmnt ☆ Star Child AU Part 2

Trigger warning: implied slight gore, trypophobia, and mild swearing.

‘Kay so, Leo finds himself in very overwhelming mood after having starry highlights on his irises. When he heard a footsteps coming from outside his room, he was so hella worried that they notices that he might be awake and escaped, but he definitely heard a sound of his brothers arrived in the lair, so Leo then returned to his bed and pretends that he was sleeping, so his brothers wouldn’t notice that he was awake (Except for Donnie, he knows what was going on with Leo.).

 Mikey, Raph, Donnie, April, Splinter, and Casey Jr. have arrived home, and Mikey and Donnie went upstairs in Leo’s room to bring the presents for him, except for Donnie, of course, has only a first aid kit along with him just in case. Mikey, of course, was very sad and scared if Leo was gonna die like this. Mikey then puts the two bags of presents right next to the doorway. Inside of the two bags, there were 10 sheets of unicorn stickers, a plushie, a sky-blue-colored tumbler cup, a unicorn hoodie, a mug with Leo’s name on it, and a picture frame. After that, Mikey then leave Donnie alone with Leo for a bit. Donnie then wakes Leo up by poking his forehead. Leo then wakes up like nothing has happened to him. Donnie then said “Are you alright, ‘Nardo?” “What the hell? I’m fine, Don-Tron. Nothing has ever happened to me, of course”, Leo responded. Donnie feels so skeptical about Leo’s answer to him, but plays it along, so he doesn’t get so upset so quickly. “Whatever you say. But me, Mikey, Raph and everyone in the lair was worry about you.” Donnie responded back. Leo then rolls his eyes, pretending that he’s alright. Donnie then checks on Leo’s right leg, and turns out he has 15 holes, with blood on them. Looks like Leo’s been affected by either the rocks or the shooting star, but theres one thing that exists called “Pockmarks”, they’re typically marks that caused by chickenpox, acne, scars, or any types of infection. Pockmarks cannot be dissappear or go away by itself, but treatment can usually help. Of course it can’t be the Krang One, because he was blown away when the fucking door closes, and plus, he didn’t fucking die, he was actually been defeated by Leo when was locked in the prison dimension. This infection was very unusual to Leo, because he never have this kind of marks on his leg before. Donnie then checks it again and sees bruises and a slightly opened-cut ankle that looks like a rock hit on it. “ I don’t think you’re okay, Leo.”, Donnie said. Leo then responds, “ What the fuck do you mean I’m not okay?! I’m alright now. Can’t you see my luxurious, beautiful face-“ “NO NARDO!! YOURE NOT OKAY!! And why are you swearing at me?! Who taught you that?!”, Donnie yells. “Don, I am okay-“ Leo says, as Donnie interrupts him. “‘Nardo, I swear if you scare me, our brothers, dad, April, and Casey like that, I’ll slapped your face!!” Donnie then starts to tears up, as he puts on a cast on Leo’s leg, but until Donnie notices a starry highlights on both of Leo’s eyes. That left him shocked, but still does not want to worry a bit too much. Leo then says, “ Donnie, I thought you hate e-“ “I-I-I’ts fine, just dont go and fucking kill yourself, okay?…”, Donnie says as he was about to cry. “Alright…”. Leo said, as Donnie then leave him in his room. 

Leo then grabs his phone from his nightstand, and then starts scrolling through YouTube, until he found the video that is unusual to him. A live singing performance of Mira Starr, a 20-year-old Indian-English singer. He then clicked on the video, as he gazes at her performance. He starts to feel like he’s a fan of Mira as he kept watching a video of her singing performance.

Fun facts:

Mira likes samosas and butter chicken.

Mira’s birthday is December 1st.

Mira’s favorite color is light or hot pink.

Mira can speak 3 languages (including English), except she speaks a bit of Punjabi.

FINALLY I FINISHED THIS!! dont worry y’all, im working on part 3. :3

! Not mine !

(First Part | Next Part )

[rinzler-smoocher]

AUGHHGHHGGG ULTRA HAPPY ENDING WHERE SEONG-GI GETS BOTH HIS PROGRAMS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! I love it I love it I love it I love it♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

...

But it probably took some time to get used to it all. Learning that Rinzler & Tron are NOT in fact one & the same person, but two consciousneses existing in the same form following Tron's rectification... Finding the right method to safely extract Tron's data from Rinzler, to construct Tron a new form... It left Seong-gi overwhelmed & at a loss for what to do with two programs he adored & had no idea how to choose from.

But, the two agreed long ago to share their precious user - as long as Seong-gi would have them both - & when the time came that the two programs stood side by side before their user and offered him themselves, only if he would have them both, of course.

There was never even a doubt in the user's mind.

He crashed hard into the two programs he loved dearly, embracing them both & grinning as Tron & Rinzler clung back to him.

And, truth be told, it was a bit clunky and awkward, at first.

Rinzler had been sharing his mind with Tron since he was first brought into his miserable existence & it took them both a bit for them getting used to each other being totally individual & separate beings. On top of that, both programs struggled with sharing their user, having always been able to enjoy Seong-gi's company together, as they had always been, well, one program together, too lol

So, trying to find time with their user, ALONE without the other taking too much of Seong-gi's attention from one another without aggravating the other, too... it was a mess, to put it bluntly.

But, after some tough talks & putting their minds together, they began figuring things out.

Seong-gi would spend part of the day doing rounds with Tron & attending to whatever important business was necessary to set the Grid back to strength, following Clu's sudden vacuum of power. The user was still at an all-time low for his energy, so somewhere in the middle of the day when Tron noticed Seong-gi stopped being as involved and talkative as usual, Tron would call it quits for the user & drive him back to their apartment to rest. After a tight hug & a kiss to his forehead, Tron watched Seong-gi trudge back to their place to crash for a while.

In doing so, he'd usually drag Rinzler, who by ALL means should've been already resting, but instead found himself pacing aggrevatedly in circles during this time due to the absence of commands or the sunny presence of his user, in to cuddle with him until both fell into deep rest cycles.

After the night fell, Rinzler rebooted & began stalking the city with Flint in tow... looking to take a leap on any potential danger that would dare show itself with the promise of making the Grid theirs, while many good programs worked hard to set things right. Whenever Flint started feeling woozy & having a hard time keeping up, Rinzler would deliver the user back to their apartment, dipping back into the chaos of night after giving Seong-gi a deathly tight hug & the promise he'd see his beloved user again in the day cycle.

Like an over eager dog waiting for its owner to arrive home, Tron would be stationed by the door, happily welcoming Seong-gi home. He'd ensure his user had some energy before they too found themselves crawling into bed, wrapped in each other's hold, and so it went on.

Over time, it was less like Seong-gi was splitting his time between two different lives & they merged into one & the same. Less chaos was abound the city, so Rinzler was forced to stop being a creature of the night, & all three together worked as a unit and odd little family together. The good & evil programs finding a united cause within their delightful, beloved user♡

Rinzler growled at himself & clawed at his helmet while he was grappling with this infernal, internal voice pleading him to watch over the bright haired user, who'e currently sleeping with his head resting in Rinz's lap, the voice trying to shout out above all the other commands & demands roaring through his being.

This voice rarely made a sound, but whenever it spoke, it was nearly impossible for Rinz to argue with it.

He hated this & hated that it stops him from fulfilling his Master's orders, but -

The moment the user shuffled in his sleep & wrapped his arms around the program's waist, something changed.

There, a deep pit in Rinz's programing, one he'd not ever been able to understand the purpose of, seemed filled and complete. The voices inside all go silent, allowing Rinz a moment of calm.

He gently traced an extended claw over the bangs of the user's face, carefully exposing his face & he feels at once like this was what it was always supposed to be.

Him here, within the user's embrace, with a fire burning inside hiw every line of coding to protect & serve him no matter what else may come their way.

The program stills, his one hand part way through stroking the user's hair & the other protectively held against the precious identity disc at his back.

And all seems well in the Grid, like it never was before.

[autismsubway-remade]

Brother-Hen (tcest dni ill explode you with my mind)

Raph has always known when one of his brothers wasn't feeling well. It probably had something to do with his big brother instincts, or maybe it was just a Raph Thing.

All he knew was that he'd woken up in the middle of the night and immediately knew something was off with one of his brothers.

Now he just had to figure out who it was.

Thankfully that wasn't very difficult.

Upon going into the kitchen he noticed Donnie who looked like he was about 5 seconds from passing out.

"Uh, Donnie? Ya okay there?"

Donnie just mumbled something Raph couldn't understand and shuffled over to the coffee pot. He blearily attempted to grab a mug, grumbling in frustration when his trembling hands refused to cooperate with him. He hissed at the cupboard before closing it and resumed his shamble to the coffee machine before stopping in his tracks and turning around.

Donnie moved closer to his older brother until they were nearly face to face (or face to chest, with how different they were heightwise).

"Don? Buddy? You good?"

Donatello bumped his forehead against Raph's plastron.

"W'nna hug."

"Sorry, could you repeat that? You're kinda mumbly."

"I wanna hug, Raphie."

Oh.

Donnie was definitely sick. Though Raph already knew that from the heat radiating off of his poor brothers body.

Don usually only mildly tolerated physical affection, much happier to show his just by sitting near one of them, though not close enough to touch. Mikey was usually the only exception seeing as he was the baby, but when Donnie got sick? All bets were off.

Because when Donnie got sick, he got clingy.

Raph wrapped his arms around his younger brother and tried to ignore how terribly shaky he was and went to wake up Leo.

Raph was the comfort guy, he knew how to deal with his brothers when they weren't feeling well, but Leo was the person who actually knew what they were sick with.

Donnie was already asleep in Raphael's arms by the time he got to Leo's room, which he was thankful for. The snapper knew he hadn't been sleeping well lately, reasons ranging from nightmares about the Shredder, to nightmares about the Kraang, to just plain old insomnia and overwork.

Speaking of overworking, couldn't you get fevers from that?

That probably wasn't the case though. Now that Raph was really listening he could hear a slight wheeze whenever Donnie breathed.

Leo opened his door, took one look at Donnie willingly asleep in his brothers arms and sighed.

"Sleep deprivation or sick?"

"He's sick. Definitely wheezy, but I dunno what exactly it could be."

Leo thought for a moment.

"It's flu season, so that's one reason why he could be wheezy."

"Yeah, but isn't the flu like..Pukey?"

Leo shook his head and started walking towards their infirmary, and Raph followed.

"Not always. I mean, yeah that's one kind of flu, but there's like. Multiple. That's why you gotta get shots every year."

"We don't get shots though."

"Well yeah. We're turtles and we live in a sewer. We probably have a hardier immune system or something. Also it's not like we can just...Go to a doctor whenever."

"Yeah, that's true."

Raph sat down on one of the cots in the infirmary, the small bed creaking under his weight.

Leo put his ear to Donnie's chest.

"Hm. Definitely got a wheeze. Did he sound off to you?"

"Not really. He was just mumbly and overall kinda out of it."

"Probably not the flu then."

"Why not?"

"He'd sound more congested for one, and also probably would've complained about a headache by now. Could just be a cold."

Donnie shifted slightly in Raph's arms, blearily opening his eyes.

"Welcome back to the land of the living Don Tron."

"..'Nardo? Wh's happening?"

"You got sick, bro."

Donnie made a face that looked like a particularly disgruntled cat.

"It's hot in here."

"You've got a fever lil' bro. It's gonna be hot."

Donnie just grumbled again and snuggled further into Raph. "Doesn't mean I can't complain about it. What does Leo think I have?"

"Probably just a cold. Doesn't seem too serious."

"Good. That means I can-" Donnie cut himself off with a large yawn. "Means I can get back to my tech."

"Nope."

"Whaddya mean nope? It's just a cold. I've had worse."

"You're literally barely staying awake Don. It'd be dangerous."

"I'm not a baby, Leo."

"Never said you were, even though you do kinda look like a baby koala right now."

Donnie, still clinging to Raph, raises an eyebrow.

"It's doctors orders. You gotta sleep, or else I'm siccing April on you."

Donnie rolls his eyes, but the effect is dampened by yet another longer yawn.

"Fine."

Raph gently strokes his soft shell, eliciting a small purr from his brother.

"Oh? Purrytello makes an appearance!"

"If Don were awake he'd probably tell you to shut up right now."

"Yeah, but he's not so I can get away with it."

"Could ya help me put him to bed? He might try to bite me if I stop holding him."

"He absolutely will bite you. Last time he got sick he decided to cling to me, and I made the mistake of putting him down for once second and nearly lost a finger!"

"Oh how tragic, whatever shall we do? Poor Leo, down a finger."

Leo punches his arm lightly. "It won't be as funny when it happens to you, oh mighty Raphael."

"Yeah yeah yeah, I know. Thanks for helpin by the way. I know it's early."

"Meh, it's not like I could sleep anyways. Ol' insomnia's a bitch and all that."

"Yeah, it definitely is."

Leo's quiet as he helps Raph make his bed and place Donnie on it, surrounding the softshell with blankets and pillows like a small turtle burrito. He whines when he feels Raph let go of him, but is sleeping to deeply to care otherwise.

Raph lays next to Donnie and scoots over to make room for Leo as well.

"C'mere. It's cuddle time."

"I don't need cuddle time, Raph."

"Yeah you do. C'mere or I'll uhh. I dunno. I'll figure it out later. You need sleep."

"I really don't-"

"Leo. Come on. You don't gotta talk about it, but I know you weren't just awake because of insomnia."

Leo sighs, and Raph knows the look in his brothers eyes. He's feeling guilty again.

"I'm gonna drag you into this blanket pile whether you like it or not, Leo. It's easier to surrender."

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

Leo climbs under the blankets and nuzzles into his brother's side.

"I-"

"Leo, I meant it when I said you don't gotta talk if you don't wanna."

"Thanks."

Raph pats his head. "No need to thank me bro."

Raph himself doesn't fall asleep until he knows for sure his younger brothers have, and even then he just...listens.

It's nice to hear them breathing and to know they're alive, they're safe and warm and content.

And really, that's all he can hope for.

[idiotic21]

Mr and Mrs Hamato

Chapter 1 - Denial

Previous All Stories

Timestamp - 2 years after Shredder's defeat, 6 months after the Krangg were defeated

"So..let me get this straight," 

Casey Jr facepalmed himself, once again being held by the custody of his friend/future uncle. Casey pinched his forehead together and waited for the turtle to continue.

"I, have a 'w-wife', in the future?"

"Yes, for the thousand time yes,"

"Thousandth, time. With 'th', kay," Donnie pointed out, ".. and also, me, a wife?"

Casey tiredly nodded. 

"My genius bad boy image.... didn't do a thing?" the genius rambles further, tensing himself up.

"Pfft... for one, I believe in Leon Jr, and I think your bad boy image would crack under the pressure of a beautiful damsel in distress, Don Tron" 

Donnie slammed his head in his hands. Leo now had the upper hand with new teasing material to mess with his twin. "For the record, Leon... his name is Casey. The spawn of our very own Cassandra Jones. Second, I WILL NOT have my bad-boy image get spalt in twain by some... some-"

"-Beautiful queen?" 

As if the genius' day couldn't get any worse, Mikey decided to join in storytime. Raph was leaning against the door of the medbay with a smug look. 

"So, Donnie is the one to carry the Hamato name? Looks like Dad will get grandkids after all," Raph entered the room and noogied the younger Hamato twin. 

Donnie stomped his foot, face blushing at Raphael's insinuation, "Knock it off, Raph. Technically, I haven't met this, Dianne-" 

"AWWWW.... and he already knows her name before even meeting her," Mikey cried out with hearts in his eyes, "Guys, it's a match made in heaven," Leo, Casey, and Raph all nodded in agreement. Leaving Donnie even more flustered, or angered? He couldn't really pinpoint the feeling. 

Wait... did he just register an 'un-sure feeling'?

Donnie blinked himself back to the hooligans who dared insinuate such lies! "-AND!, I am a turtle, guys. I don't think we would be even physically compatible with a human. Scientifically speaking. Also, falling in 'love' would require emotional availability which, if you guys do realize, I don't express nor practice much."

Casey just shook his head, reminiscing how the future version of his Uncle Don reacted the same way when a younger Casey asked about his uncle's love life. Future Donnie still kept his bad boy image around. 

"Come on, Dee. Just because you're a turtle, doesn't mean you won't find love. Love is a beautiful thing, just ask Doctor Feelings." Donnie slapped a hand on Mickey's mouth, "Silence, sweet Angelo. I know you mean well, but this brother of yours is 100 percent sure that I could live a long and prosperous life without the invasion of space from a 'significant other'."

Donnie thought he had won the argument, but Leo identified the loophole. "Sure, bro. Whatever makes you happy, but you said, and I quote the word, "could", in other words it means you 'could' also find yourself sharing your life with a significant other, eh?"

Leo shot his brows up twice and smirked. "Nardo, that's not how it works.."

"I don't know Dee, Leo does have a point. Right, Casey?" Raph turned to the Jones Jr, who now became the main focus of Donnie's sharp and intimidating eyes.

"Uhh... I think I will leave Master Donatello's love life discussion to you guys," Casey replied shyly and scratched the back of his neck. 

The brothers began to squabble again only to meet a high-pitched squeal... or high-pitched squealing.

"Ancestors, are my rat ears deceiving me? Or did I not hear the word 'love-life' being associated with my 'genius cinnamon roll of a son' Purple?"Hamato Yoshi (Splinter a.k.a Lou-Jitsu) struck a pose by the door and then fell dramatically into the waiting hands of April O'Neil. "No, Splints. I think your ears worked just fine," she confirmed and proceeded to unceremoniously drop the rat man to the floor and marched up to Donnie.

On the other note, Donnie was horrified. His father and sister have been officially dragged into his future-wife mess. Could things get any worse? Donnie ground his teeth, seething lost patience.

Shoving her finger up to his face threateningly, she declared with anger, "Have you been holding out on me, D? Are you dating someone? Where'd you meet her? What's her background? Is she involved in the Illuminati?" 

"CAN IT APRIL! There is no wife, I said!" 

The brothers and Casey were losing their cool, laughing and slapping each other's backs.

The word 'wife' echoed once again. Donnie cringed so bad when he heard the deafening hum of Splinter's 'Lou-Jitsu Love Advice Persona' beaming to life. Think Doctor Feelings, but 10 times amplified. Now you see where Mickey gets it.

"Hmm... Donatello?" all the children in the room (except Donnie) were in awe. The rat man is about to give one of his famous Lou-Jitsu love-tackling advice.

"Yes, Dad?" Donnie replied bluntly.

"Did or did I not hear the word 'wife'?" The room shook. Every atom vibrates at the deep octave of Splinter's advising voice.

Donnie rolled his eyes in annoyance and nodded. Soon, he found Splinter directly in the line of his peripheral vision. Splinter yanked Donnie's shoulder, "Love, is a beautiful thing. When it comes your way, be mindful and do not let go. It creates a part of you that you would never have known to have existed. When you find the one, you will not just know love, but you will live by love."

Everyone in the room had their eyes glistening with tears, mouths pouting and hearts heeding the great wisdom poured by the old man. All except Donnie of course who just maintained his bored and empty, cold and calculated look. 

"Sure, Dad"

Suddenly, a gust of wind picked up from behind Splinter, making his grey fur move majestically, swept in glittering *dust*. Donnie could hear the ridiculous awe of the rest of his family. He mentally resisted face-palming himself for who knows how many times that day. 

"ALRIGHT! Let's get this over with and-"

"Why are we talking about Donatello and a possible future with a wife?" 

"OH MI GOSH, Draxiball you heard it too?!" Mickey jumped into Draxum's hands and began to rant about Donnie's possible love life.

He facepalmed. Donnie finally facepalmed again.

"So, in the future, you will have a wife? Interesting. I didn't know humans would think turtle-human yokai to be .... urhm, attractive?" the baron was intrigued, to say the least. Another variable to add to his growing study of his new... sons.

"You steppin' on Don or sometin', Draxum?" April stepped to him for stepping to Donnie.

Leo gasped in faux hurt, "Draxum, are you implying that we are not handsome and chivalrous turtlemen? I get it if Donnie is less attractive than I am. I am the face man but no doubt we are more than just attractive."

"Yeah, we got Lou-Jitsu blood burnin' in our veins!" Raph dabbed and Michelangelo razzmatazed with Splinter raised on his shoulders. 

"For the record, this is just another variable for me to put into the study of human-yokai relations alright." Draxum eye rolled. "On the other hand, you boys do hold human DNA, which might make you compatible with a human being so-"

"HAH! Don, please, eateth thy words" Leo clawed his way up the medical bed to headlock Donnie. The latter had already given up, but his face was red like Raph's mask.

While the rest of the family began to throw around possible ideas of Donnie can find his future wife in the present time, Donnie himself began to think. 

'Why in the world would he need love?'

'How needs love with all the mystic tech power he had'

'I'm a genius, I'm married to my work'

Before he entered classic-Donnie overthink, Dee decided to put his foot down. "ENOUGH love talk today!"

His voice rang with finality that all the members of his family knew not to go against. He wasn't mad at them, they knew it, but Donnie's bad-boy persona was crumbling when a specific thought suddenly entered his brain. 

He patted Leo's head before yanking himself away, "Dear fam, I am pleased to hear that you are all invested completely in a part of my life that has only a less than 1 percent chance of happening."

"Which is still a high percent chance in Leon's book, but carry on,"

"Wipe the smug off your face Nardo. Anyways, Donnie and love life have no semblance at all because I am a brilliant scientist who is too busy for dumdum things, getting in my way. You are welcome and thank you,"

The room was silent, Leo hating that Donnie decided to deny something that has not happened. Then a loud "BOO! LOSER BOO!" was heard from the corner of the room.

"CASSANDRA?!" "MOM?!" 

At the corner of the room, Cassandra Jones sat with an empty bowl of popcorn and a half cup full of soda. "Oh, hey guys.Son. Also, I think the tech whiz just jinxed himself by saying he may never find love. Usually, it's people who reject the insinuation of being in love with someone, who would find love earlier than anticipated."

April nodded gleefully, "I agree. Also, how long have you been there?"

"NO ONE NEEDS TO KNOW!" 

The whole group just remained awkward. "Anywho, who want's to watch a Lou-Jitsu marathon? Draxum, you gotta join us this time. You promised,"

The baron sighed, he could never say no to Mickey. "Fine.."

"I will join you guys later. I have some tech to fix. Also, Nardo needs to stay on the drips." Donnie ordered and gave Leo a frightening look, daring his twin to try to retaliate. Leo was still recovering from the injuries he acquired from the fight with the Krang.

Leo gulped and nodded, "Until you give me the clear sign, Dee, I will live by the drips."

Donnie kept his hard look before it finally broke into a gentle smile. The others shuffled out to the hall to watch Lou-Jitsu on the new flat screen tv Donnie built. 

---

Hamato Donatello sank into his bed. Sheldon was charging at his corner, displaying a row of 'Z's' to show that he is sleeping. Donny laughed to himself. "Imagine if he was a living and breathing child. The trouble I would have."

"Then again, Splinter would finally have a grandchild. Technically he has one but..." a frown made its way to his face.

"GAH! Why am I suddenly thinking of children?" He began classic Donnie rambling. The turtle began to pace around the room, "I am a turtle for crying out loud. A yokai. Wait, no not a yokai, I AM A MUTANT!" 

"Great Gallileo, why did I even have to think that finding love would be a nice change of pace?" 

You see, that was the one thought that bugged him earlier. The one thought that stood out from the rest. One that bled in desperate need of longing and comfort. For one second, Donatello was curious about love and the idea of sharing his love with another.

"Damn it!" Donnie released his battle shell and fell face down into his plush bed, groaning.

Everything was quiet for a while until he felt a familiar hand land gently on his soft-shell. 

"I thought you were enjoying the movie marathon..." Purple whispered quietly. Splinter chuckled, "I was. I went to get popcorn but when I passed your room I saw my son ranting about his love life."

Donnie peeked out a little to find his dad smiling at him softly. He grew flustered and buried his face deeper into the pillows. "Please don't tell the others about this, Papa." 

Splinter frowned a little but agreed. "Can I at least ask you a question, my son?"

The purple turtle was quiet for a while, then he sat up to face Splinter, nodding. "Why are you so disturbed by the fact that you may find love? Do you not want to love someone and have a family of your own in the future?"

"It's, well... it's complicated. I really don't know what to feel," Donnie paused, allowing Splinter to take in the information. "I just... aside from loving my family, you, April, the guys, I don't know if I can love or have the ability to love some random stranger. How can I even think to find love? Look at me! I'm a mutant! A freak of nature"

Splinter grimaced but decided to poke some fun, "So, I am guessing I am one as well,eh?"

"Wha- Dad no I didn't mean it that way."

Splinter chuckled and told his son to calm down, "I'm joking, Purple. I will tell you this. Love is hard to explain, even for someone with my experience."

Donnie listens on quietly. "I didn't think I would learn to love Big Mama, you know. Obviously, I was a handsome young superstar back in the day, and getting the girls was easy, but finding someone to confide in was a challenge. I never knew if I would find someone who would genuinely love me for who I am. Not what I am."

"Didn't Big Mama lure you only to kidnap you as a fighter for the BattleNexus-"

Donnie's logical rambling was cut short by Splinter's finger pushed to his face, "Shus! Your Papa is talking."

"Anyways, what I am trying to say is that loving someone else is not a bad thing. It helps you discover things you never knew about yourself and makes you a greater person in return. It changes you for the better. Yes, Big Mama was a thieving 8-legged, beautiful, cute, smart, cunning, and uh... did I mention beautiful-"

"Dad, stop gushing over your ex, please?"

"Oh, ho ho, yes. Before the kidnapping me days, I had fallen head over heels for her and she forever holds a place in my heart. She is the one for me and will always be. Big Mama, is just... herself. She does have room for sympathy and love in her heart."

Donnie chuckled, watching his father gush about his previous flame. He realized how happy Splinter was that it made him seem to have aged back a few years. "You really loved her, huh?"

Splinter nodded, "And I still do." The father-son duo basked in the comforting silence until Splinter decided to leave Purple to his thoughts. " I will let you think it over, son. If you need love advice, I will spill Lou-Jitsu's Top 5, How To Get The Girl, tips to you."

"Just five?" Donnie grinned.

"Just five. See you later, Donatello." 

As Splinter left the room, he saw how contently Sheldon was resting, in a futuristically designed charging port, fitted with a Sheldon-sized movie and gaming console for the young AI turtle to play. He was truly the spoiled brainchild of Donnie. 

"If it means anything to you, Purple, I think you are a wonderful father too. My AI grandson seems to be living his life with you as his parental figure," Splinter chuckled as Donnie's face grew red in fluster. 

Donnie watched Splinter shuffle to the kitchen and let out a heavy sigh. "Maybe..."

"...nah...but possibly? You know what, I don't have time to think about this."

The purple tech whiz scooped up a blanket and switched off the neon purple lighting of his room. Before leaving for the movie marathon however, he caught the glimpse of Sheldon snoozing away, purring mechanically. A tiny but genuine smile graced his lips and Donnie clapped himself on his shoulder. "I am a great dad,".

---

Little did Donnie know, that in a few day's time, he would meet the love of his life.

The future, Mrs. Hamato. ❤

Next

[gamergirl929]

Wow, That’s A Lot Of Blood... (Kelley O’Hara x Reader)

Anonymous Request:  Kelley O’Hara x goalie reader. Reader has a serious injury during the game and needs to get rushed to the hospital.

Mentions of blood

The game was brutal, worse than anyone on the USWNT had ever seen, a number of members from BOTH teams, earning yellows, some eventually needing to be carted off the field from a number of injuries, the violence between the teams and the rain making injuries more prominent.  

It was only halfway through the second half and you were more than exhausted, panting heavily as you’d been making a number of saves throughout the second half, Sweden slamming the gas pedal down as they were trailing by 3 and the end of the game was drawing ever near.  

You could see your girlfriend was getting winded as well, the woman’s legs slowly giving from the amount of running she’d been doing. She wasn't only sitting on a yellow card, but you’d noticed a little earlier that when she’d went down, her ankle had been acting up, the pained look on her face a dead giveaway for you.  

You were given a literally millisecond to take a breather as both teams made a few subs, Kelley being taken out at the 80th minute, but that breather was short lived and soon, Sweden was back at goal again.  

“Y/N can’t take much more.” Kelley comments from her place beside Tobin.  

You’d been working overtime, the back line getting picked apart by Sweden.  

Another ball flies in on goal again and you give it a hard punch, thankful when it’s carried back down field, giving you time to catch your breath.  

Unfortunately, though it’s right back at goal a Swedish defender running towards you at full speed, Becky Sauerbrunn on her heels.  

Kelley jumps to her feet as you slip in the wet grass, the Swedish player taking a shot at the ball that ricochets off of you and into the air, stepping down on something hard.

The ball, thankfully, is eventually being knocked out of bounds by Becky.  

Kelley toes the white line when she realizes you aren’t getting up, her heart pounding in her chest.  

The Swedish player turns you over, grimacing when she sees that your face is covered in blood, quickly realizing that the thing she’d stepped on was your face. 

Kelley’s brown orbs nearly bug out of her head when she sees the Tron, replaying the attempt on goal, only then seeing that the Swedish forward had quite literally stomped on your face.  

Everyone is on the sidelines watching eagerly as the medical team surrounds you, each on their tiptoes trying to see the damage to your face, but it’s only when you’re pulled to your feet that they see the extent of your injuries, Tobin grabbing Kelley’s shoulder to steady her.  

All thoughts of the game drift from her mind when Kelley sees your blood covered face, the blood mixed with the rain water making the watered-down blood run down your face.  

Kelley turns to Vlatko, with wide, pleading eyes and he nods.  

“Go.”  

By the time Kelley turns back your entire jersey is literally soaked with blood, the medical team trying their hardest to stop the bleeding, their attempts fruitless.  

“We need to get you to the hospital.” Someone mumbles and it’s then you feel fingers wrap around your own, your view obstructed by the towel being used to cover your eyes.  

“I’ve got you Y/N, I’ve got you.” You hear Kelley’s voice and you sigh, giving her hand a squeeze.  

“It hurts Kel... So bad...” You say, voice muffled by the towel on your face.  

“Hey! I’m coming too!” You hear Tobin’s voice, the medical team member shifting slightly making you cry out, the sound tearing a hole in Kelley’s heart.  

“Come on! Let’s go!” Kelley snarls at the medical team who nods, terrified of the angry defender who doesn’t even realize her hand is being coated in blood that’s dripping off of your jaw and running down your arm.  

Thankfully, EMTs finally arrive and you’re ushered into the ambulance, you and Kelley both covered in blood, your blood.  

Tobin slips in beside the defender and the ambulance is off, flying towards the hospital.  

Kelley gives your hand a squeeze, just now realizing that’s she’s covered in your blood, blood that’s still leaking from the wounds to your face.  

“Y/N? Can you hear me?” The EMT asks and you mumble, voice slurring.  

“She’s lost a lot of blood, we have to stop the bleeding.” The EMT smacks the ambulance wall and almost immediately the ambulance picks up speed.  

“Y/N, I need you to stay awake okay?” He shouts and your yawn, voice slurring, a hand resting over your hammering heart the only thing keeping you awake.  

                                                          ***

The rest of the ride is all a blur, you remembered the horrified looks from everyone in the hospital as you went inside the emergency room, Tobin and Kelley on your heels.  

You’re immediately ushered into a room and almost immediately the doctor gets to work.  

“We’re going to put a little numbing in here.” The doctor says and you wince, recoiling.  

“But...” You whine, Kelley immediately making her presence known, well, known more than she had been.

“Y/N, let them help you.” She takes your hand, giving it a squeeze and you groan.  

“Okayyyyy.”  

The second the needle pierces your skin you growl, growling louder when the needle pierces your skin again and again.  

“We’ll let that kick in, meanwhile let’s clean her up and see the extent of the damage.”  

Kelley gently strokes the back of your hand, her caress sweet, but still the pain in your head is persistent.  

“I’ve seen Kelley bleed, A LOT, but you’ve definitely bled more than she has in her entire career.” Tobin snorts and you chuckle.  

“Finally, better than Kelley at something.” You rasp and Kelley rolls her eyes.  

“You’re great at a lot of things Y/N.”  

You’re about to answer when you again snarl at the pain from the doctor’s ministrations.  

“Damn it.” You whine, sighing when you feel the numbing start to kick in.  

“It’s okay.” Kelley whispers, shushing you softly, Tobin moving closer to the bed to place a hand on your leg, that’s drenched with rain water, sweat, and some blood.  

“We’re here Y/N.” Tobin gives your leg a squeeze, frowning when again the doctor brushes a particularly deep cut.  

“We’ve got you.” Kelley whispers, giving your hand a squeeze.  

You let out a lengthy sigh when the doctor finishes cleaning your face, the bleeding thankfully had stopped by then.  

“All done?” You ask and the doctor shakes his head.  

“Sorry Ms. Y/L/N, but you’re going to need stitches.” He frowns as a nurse rolls in with a cart, the tools to give you those, aforementioned stitches on its surface. 

“Nooooo...” You whine, turning to Kelley and Tobin with a pout.  

“You need stitches Y/N, do you want to get an infection?” Tobin asks and you grumble.  

“No...”  

“Well then you need to sit still.” Kelley squeezes your hand and you nod.  

“Okay. I guess”  

                                                          ***

Later that night your room is packed full of soccer players, the Swedish player who accidentally hurt you bringing flowers to the room and checking up on you.  

But now, everyone was fast asleep, except for you and Kelley, the woman now in clean clothes, no longer covered in your blood.  

Kelley gently runs her thumb across your knuckles, her eyes glassy as she stares at your bandaged face.  

“I was so scared... I didn’t know what happened...” She whispers, leaning towards the bed to cup your injured cheek, your eyes fluttering shut as you lean into her touch.  

“I’m okay, just a scratch right.” You shrug, turning to kiss the palm of her hand before nuzzling against it.  

“Yeah.” She shakes her head, chuckling. “A scratch.”  

You again shrug.  

“Maybe a bit more than a scratch.”  

Kelley rolls her eyes, moving to her feet and kicking her shoes off.  

“Room for one more?” She asks and you grin, shuffling as far over as you can so Kelley can get into bed beside you.  

The second her back hits the bed she’s curled against your side, nuzzling into your neck as your arm slips around her.  

“I love you Y/N... Please try not to get hurt for a while...” She sighs and you snicker, grinning.  

“No promises.” You whispers as you press a kiss to her forehead. 

“And I love you too.” 

[blessed-but-distressed]

#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU

***

also on ff.net and ao3

***

Tagging: @katie-dub , @wholockgal , @kat2609 , @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @biancaros3, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @ms-babs-gordon  @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld , @natascha-remi-ronin, @kiwistreetswan and whoever else asks me.

***

A/N: Part 2 of 2. Surprise, bitch. Bet you thought you’d seen the last of me!

***

Killian

How do you feel about improv? ES

Trepidatious. KJ

What if I told you some random just gave me last minute tickets to a Jane Austen inspired improv drag show, and I have a spare? ES

Curiosity alone compels me to say yes. Pleasance? KJ

George Square. ES

Thank fuck. I forgot my umbrella. KJ

If Killian had any sense, he'd approach the month of August the same way Robin did every year. Which mostly amounted to renting his house out to a troupe of Hungarian acrobats for extortionate sums of money and taking off for the south of France, thus avoiding the whole sorry spectacle.

A privilege reserved for those not living out of their older brother's spare room. Nor stuck writing Fringe reviews for his ailing periodical.

He thought his latest was his best yet.

Do you value your time? Your money? Your life? Then walk, don't run, as far from this act as you can. No one this incompetent should be wielding chainsaws, let alone juggling them. I may have been the only one-handed man at the preview, but with this shambolic spectacle set to run for the rest of the week, I expect I won't be the last. 0 stars.

Liam had accused him of being deliberately cruel, but he hadn't seen the show firsthand. The phrase 'culpable and reckless conduct' came to mind. His review went up online, unchallenged.

To his great surprise, his favourite show so far had been the improv show Emma had dragged him along to. It had all the subtle snark and invariable romance of Austen's classic novels, with the added benefit of Emma nearly passing out from laughing so hard. That alone would have justified his five star review, but the cherry on the cake had been when the man dressed as the elderley Dowager had picked August out from the crowd, and made him part of the act.

Killian generally condemned the casual cruelty of audience participation. Indeed, he lived in constant fear of it at every show he reviewed. But when it came for a certain novelist, he found his views on the matter suddenly rather... fluid.

Try as he might, he couldn't see what Emma saw in the man. What hidden virtues he possessed that had provoked such a ferocious loyalty. Killian wasn't stupid enough to voice such thoughts, of course, but that hadn't stopped him trying to figure it out.

The opportunity to continue this study was surely the only reason he'd opened an unsolicited DM from the man himself, when he should have been watching a Swedish comedy troupe send up classic films in a series of skits.

We have a mutual friend in need. How's your schedule looking uhhh… now?

Killian looked back to the stage. He couldn't be sure, but he thought the red streamers might signify blood. They were either up to Carrie or Jaws.

Trouble? Killian typed back.

Emma. The next message read.

We're in a bar in Leith and things have gotten a little… messy.

Killian checked the time. Barely past one in the afternoon. And fucking Leith? That didn't bode well. But at the same time, his review of the show was supposed to be online within the hour.

With a growing sense of unease, he typed out his reply. Which pub?

***

Stepping into The Marksman on Duke Street was not unlike stepping back in time. More precisely, to somewhere smack dab in middle of the Thatcher era, when Leith was a byword for deprivation and whatever comes after heroin chic. It was charmless, grimy and depressing, and Killian might've never understood the appeal until he caught the sign in the window. It opened at 6am.

Trying to avoid the abject stares of the locals, Killian found his quarry sat at the end of the bar on mismatching stools. Emma slumped forward, her face hidden, but August turned around swiftly at his approach, the alarm in his eyes quickly giving way to recognition.

"Oh thank god." August swept off his barstool, his relief so palpable that Killian thought he might hug him. He didn't look well. Thoroughly debauched, if one might say so, and in desperate need of a bath.

"Nice place," Killian remarked drily. "A bit off the beaten path…"

August pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. Or… wearier. "It's been a long night. And morning." He glanced back to where Emma sat propped by the bar, apparently still completely unaware of his absence, and drew closer, his voice lowering.

"You know that Graham guy?"

Killian couldn't explain it, but something inside his chest caught. Like flint striking steel. "Aye," he growled, not liking where this was headed.

"Married," August supplied, without preamble. "She didn't know. No one knew. She ran into them holding hands in the Tron. Matching wedding bands. The whole bit. So she threw her beer in his face and called it a day, right? But this morning, no, yesterday morning, the wife showed up. At the apartment. Emma's apartment."

Killian's fist clenched by his side.

"Yeeaah. It got pretty heated. Long story short, it's been a day and a half. I don't even remember how we got here. I'm not sure I even know exactly where here is. I have to be on a train at 4 to King's Cross or my publisher is going to sue my ass. Now, I can trust you? To get her home safely? You look at her like you're half a drink away from belting out Jessie's Girl at any given moment. I didn't imagine that, did I?"

Of all the places to grudgingly admit his feelings, not least in confidence to this man he wasn't sure he even liked, The Marksman was not the venue he would have chosen. And yet.

"There's very little I wouldn't do for that woman."

He was caught by surprise when the man launched forward and kissed him on the cheek, more still when he went back for the other cheek. August grinned enormously, grasping Killian by the shoulders. "Welcome to the family! Please don't fuck it up." And then consulting his phone, "I really need to go."

August made short work of the rest of his goodbyes, pulling Emma into fierce hug from behind, whispering something into her ear as he let her go. Then, with a wink in Killian's direction and a kiss blown at the nearest crusty Leither, he picked up his messenger bag and fled onto the street.

Steeling himself after that prologue, Killian turned back to where Emma sat by the bar, unseeing reddened eyes peeking out from under a tangle of blonde hair. He pulled out August's vacated stool, and took a seat.

"Swan," he began, with an imaginary tip of his cap.

"Jones," she replied, her voice flatter than he'd ever heard it.

"Of all the gin joints…"

She grimaced. Though her frown was so pronounced already, it didn't make much of a change. "We don't talk about the gin."

"At least tell me it was the good stuff."

She tried to smile, but the action seemed to cause her pain. "Don't do that. Don't be nice to me right now."

"Why not? You're not the villain in this story."

A small noise escaped her, half laugh, half sob. "Sure feels like it."

"No, that's the supermarket gin talking. We've talked about this. Nothing good ever came from a clear spirit at 35p a measure."

She sank further forward in her seat, her forehead resting against the bar top. "Don't be cute. Please just leave me alone to die," she mumbled.

He couldn't resist tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, making sure she could see him. "I'm not going to do that. I have a duty of care."

"Why? Because you'd have to find someone else to write a column about?"

"No," he replied levelly. "Because you're my best friend."

That had her lifting her head off the bar, albeit wincing as she did so. "I thought Robin was your best friend?"

He tapped his chin. "No, it's definitely you."

She considered that. Though how much of her internal brain processes had survived the pickling process over the last 24 hours, Killian couldn't be certain.

Of course, it was at that moment their bartender appeared, a middle aged woman with an ill-fitting polo shirt and bright green acrylic nails she drummed against the bar top. "Another top up, hen?" She didn't even glance at Killian.

He put his hand over Emma's glass. "Actually, I'm afraid we're on our way out."

Their server didn't much like that, a hand finding her hip. "Well that's up for the lass to decide, no?"

"It's okay, Tracy," Emma said, managing a consoling smile. "He's a friend. Are we all settled up?"

"We are." She gave Killian a cool once over. "Friend, you say? Mind you keep it that way. Looks like nothing but trouble to me. And you still raw after the last one. Liars and cheats, the lot of them."

Killian thought to take offence, but Emma already had him by the arm, pulling him off his stool. "Thanks, Tracy. Can you call me a cab?"

***

Getting her into the cab took some doing, not least because she had to pause twice to throw up in the gutter, and the first guy had driven off. Fair play to him. Thankfully by the time the second cab arrived Emma's stomach had settled, and she spent the drive curled harmlessly against Killian's side.

"Your lassie alright?" the cabbie asked, as Killian half lifted, half dragged her from the backseat out onto the gravel driveway. "You need a hand?"

It was a testament to how preoccupied he was that Killian didn't even stop to consider that might've been a crack about his prosthetic until Emma was already inside and passed out on his bed.

He texted Elsa first. A simple heads up.

There's an unconscious woman in the house. Don't freak out. KJ

It went about as well as you'd expect.

At least he had sisterly back up when he broke the news to Liam that he wasn't getting his review.

Needless to say, by the time Emma raised her groggy head from his pillow, the house was no longer silent, and it was no longer still. Elsa had insisted on rushing home, and boyish shrieks permeated the air, punctuated by the usual crashing and banging.

Killian sat in his one armchair, an ugly monstrosity of purple velvet which had been forbidden from the rest of the house, sipping his tea as she came awake. It took some time. One eyelid slithered open. Then the other. Never both at the same time.

"Do I want to know why someone is screaming in the next room?" Her voice was scratchy, and he motioned towards the glass of water by the bedside.

"Nephews," Killian said by way of explanation, as she crawled forward to grasp the glass in both hands, shaking with the effort.

She took a long draught, surveying her surroundings. He wondered how much she remembered from the last two days, if anything. If she even remembered his arrival at The Marksman, or August's leaving. She examined the ornate cornices, and floating beams. The collection of spent paperbacks stacked by the bed and the shabby, unmatched furniture.

"Your house. Your room?"

"My room," he confirmed. "We have guest rooms, but they're upstairs. And quite frankly, just getting you this far was nightmare enough. You're heavier than you look."

He earned a pillow to the face for that remark. It still smelled of her, which in her current state, wasn't much of a testimonial.

"Shower?" he ventured.

"Please," she said, rolling over until she could place both feet on the floor.

"Second door on the right. Elsa left some things out. Towels. Fancy shampoo. Paracetamol," he added with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Should be a set of clothes too."

She cringed. "Elsa knows I'm here?"

"Sorry. It's a new house rule of theirs. Radical honesty. Elsa knows you're having a rough time of it, and are convalescing. But that is the extent of her knowledge. Whether that remains the case, is entirely up to you."

"Right."

"Oh," he said, smacking his forehead. He scrabbled around on top of his dresser, before presenting her with a wooden triangle.

She took it automatically, seeming annoyed at herself for doing so. "Uh, thanks?"

"The bathroom door doesn't have a lock on it. Best wedge it under the door. Trust me when I say, you don't want Lachie walking in on you in the altogether. It's stressful for all involved."

"Good tip," she said, with a ghost of a smile.

She edged past him awkwardly to the door, her bare feet silent on the carpet. She'd already slipped into the hallway when her head appeared back around the door.

"Killian?"

"Aye?"

"I'm horrendously hungover so you probably can't tell, but I appreciate, uh…" she waved the wedge around vaguely. "All this."

"Swan?"

"Yeah?"

"I mean this in the nicest possible way, but please do shut up," he said with a wink. "Also, you're taking me out for pancakes after, so don't be too long."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, am I just?"

"You are indeed. Best thing for a gin hangover, in my limited experience. And it was very generous of you to offer."

"Very generous," she agreed, dubiously. "And Killian?

"Aye?"

"You're so full of shit. But... I do love pancakes. And one more thing?"

"Hmm?"

She kicked a toe into the carpet, eyes evasive. "You're sort of my best friend, too." Then she disappeared back behind the door, leaving Killian slack jawed.

***

He'd nearly finished two chapters of his book by the time Emma returned from her trip to the bathroom, shower soft and minty fresh.

"Better?" he asked, putting the novel aside.

"Much," she agreed. "Though full disclosure, I think I just used a $300 tube of lotion, and I kinda smell like a baby Porsche."

"The very best kind of Porsche," Killian assured her, offering her his prosthetic to take. "They're terrors once they hit the teenage years. Shall we?"

They crossed Bruntsfield Links just after sunset, the sky still streaked with pink and orange. He'd always loved summers in Scotland, that neverending twilight. It almost made shivering through six months of winter worthwhile. He was so busy admiring the scene, he nearly missed it when Emma detached herself from his arm, stopping in her tracks.

"Emma?"

She was standing entirely still, her eyes shut.

"Are you alright, love?"

Her eyes flickered open, almost surprised to see him still standing there. "Sorry, just… cataloguing."

"Cataloguing," Killian repeated, deadpan.

"Yeah, smartass," she said, walking forward to loop her arm under his again. "Cataloguing. Sometimes I forget, but this-" she indicated the kaleidoscope sky, the green-gold expanse of grass disappearing into the distant smudge that was Arthur's Seat, the group of laughing teenagers nearby trying to finish their mini golf game before they lost the light, "-Sometimes I still have to pinch myself."

She didn't elaborate, and Killian found himself oddly lost for words. He just reached over to squeeze her hand, and led her back towards the city lights.

For the time of year, they got lucky. The line was short, and it wasn't long before they were led to a red vinyl booth, complete with its very own mini jukebox. They both stared at it for a good minute before Emma fished a spare pound out of her pocket, and dropped it onto the table between them. "Your call. I'm going to the bathroom. Anything but Don't Stop Believin'."

Lord help him, but he thought he might love her.

He settled for a less foreboding tune, which morphed into another, then another, before he was fishing out his own coins to keep the party going. If he didn't know her any better, he might've thought she'd done a runner on him. Fortunately, he did know her better. Or at least, he was starting to.

She came back just in time for the guitar solo in The Chain, her I'm-bearing-up smile indicating she was doing nothing of the sort.

"Ruby texted," she explained, taking her seat opposite him. "About twenty times. She wouldn't stop until I FaceTimed her. I miss anything?"

"Just side one of Rumours. And your drink order." He indicated the glass of fizzy orange liquid in front of her.

She wrinkled her nose. "Fanta?"

"Irn-Bru. Best hangover cure there is."

She cast him a doubtful look.

"I'm serious. There's been studies."

"Oh well, if there's been studies." She slid the glass minutely closer, but didn't partake. Instead she watched as Killian lifted his own glass, and made a face.

He lowered his glass. "What?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about how I'm never drinking again. I didn't even know they served beer here."

"They do, but this is Dry Ginger."

She raised an eyebrow. "Ginger ale? You?"

Killian shrugged. "It's something I'm trying. Like a cleanse. But instead of drinking juice and doing yoga, I drink post-mix dry ginger and be less of a twat."

"Sobriety." Emma slapped her hand against the table. "I wish I'd thought of that. But I've barely seen you, when did you decide this?"

"Roughly…" he counted back the days, "43 days ago." When I thought I'd lost your friendship forever. But he didn't have to say it. From the look on her face, she already knew the significance.

"Huh." Emma sat back in her seat, absorbing that. But if she was planning on expanding on that thought, she was saved by the arrival of their waitress, who was all too eager to expound on the daily specials.

By the time they were alone again, Emma had cracked and was halfway through her Irn-Bru.

"I mean, it's not repellent…" she offered, by way of grudging approval.

"Trust me, it works." And then because he felt like they'd danced around it long enough, "So do you want to talk about it?"

She set down her glass, letting her fingers trace along the edge of the table top. "Nope. But somehow I feel like we're going to anyway."

"It was only about eight hours ago you wanted me to leave you to die in Leith's most depressing pub. I feel like it warrants at least a conversation."

She grimaced at the memory. Or perhaps where the memories ought to have been. It was hard for him to be sure.

"I fell in love with a married woman once. If you're worried about my judgement, you needn't be."

He wasn't quite sure where it had come from. This sudden urge to talk about Milah. But it was how they'd always operated, wasn't it? If he wanted Emma to take down her walls, he had to offer up a few bricks from his own. Well, this was more of a boulder, really, but at least he had her attention.

She snorted. "I wasn't in love with Graham."

"So what's the problem?"

"Because," she reasoned, tears springing into her eyes. "It's just so fucking mortifying. To be played for a fool, again. I thought I was smarter than that. I thought I could just, I don't know, flirt with a cute, intelligent guy and feel good about myself for five fucking seconds without it ending with his wife beating down my door demanding to know if I'd fucked her husband!"

She'd gotten a little loud towards the end there, with more than a few wary eyes glancing their way. Killian quickly stood up, and made his way over to her side of the booth, slipping in beside her. It was a tight fit, but it did succeed in sheltering her from most of the stares.

"Alright, so he's a tosser."

Another snort.

"Liam's bookie knows a guy. I could make a few calls?"

She shot him a sideways glance. "Don't tempt me right now. I just feel so stupid. But like, in an angry way."

"You're not stupid for being taken in by him. It's not a weakness to want to see the best in people, Emma. In fact, considering how many people in your life have disappointed you, myself included, I'd say it's pretty bloody brave."

Emma shook her head. "Is it though? I saw red flags. Even from the start he was kind of flaky. I wasn't even sure if I really liked him. It just appealed to my vanity, that he seemed to like me. So don't I deserve this? Just a little?"

"No." Killian wasn't sure where the vehemence came from, but he could feel it, welling up. "No, you don't deserve to be lied to, and dragged into the middle of someone else's messed up marriage without your knowledge or consent. No, you don't deserve being made to feel like the side-piece. You're not the side-piece. You're the heroine. And he's just a fucking wanker. What you deserve..." He looked up to see their server approaching the table, platters piled high with maple syrup topped goodness. He shot Emma a smile. "What you deserve, is pancakes."

***

It would've been remiss of him not to foot the bill, after his earlier declaration about her deserving pancakes, so there'd been a little bit of an argument about that as they wended their way down Clerk Street in the growing darkness. That Emma could argue about not paying for the pancakes he'd goaded her into in the first place, was a testament to the healing powers of Irn-Bru and a triple stack. No truly hungover person would have committed to such a futile battle.

But when they arrived at the beginning of her street, Emma stopped arguing and grabbed a hold of Killian's arm, pulling him up short.

She was shaking her hands out, like she was fighting off an attack of nerves, and Killian was instantly on the defensive. "Swan?"

She stopped when he said her name, plastering on what seemed to him a rather brittle smile. "Hey. Sorry. I'm just wondering, would you do me a favour?"

He had to chuckle at that. "Swan, if the last twelve hours have proven anything, it's that yes, I am available for favours. Unless of course they involve you paying me back for the pancakes. Because I'm afraid I'm rather immovable on that front."

"Great. So umm… Ruby has this theory."

"Ruby has a theory?" he repeated, hoping at some point, things would start making sense. "What manner of… theory?"

"Oh, god this is so stupid," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm just going to say it. I'm just going to come right out and say it: I want you to kiss me."

Something very violent was happening inside Killian's chest, a feeling which was neither happiness, nor disappointment, but a crushing combination of the two. He felt hot and cold. He felt light-headed.

"You want-" he started.

Emma's eyes were screwed shut, as if bracing for a blow. Or in this case, the fallout. She already had regrets. And more than that, it had been Ruby's idea. But why would Ruby…?

Of course.

The best way to get over a man, was to get under a new one. Wasn't that the old adage?

It wasn't about him. It wasn't about them.

No, she'd been clear. I want you to kiss me. She'd chosen him. She trusted him to be the one to soothe her wounded pride. Maybe she'd hoped it would be him. Maybe he was just the most convenient option. In any case, the wondering would certainly kill him.

But not as much as going through with it.

He reached out and took her hand, waiting until she opened her eyes. By Christ, people weren't supposed to look so beautiful by yellow street light. It wasn't scientific. And yet.

"No."

Now it was her turn to look like someone had punched her in the stomach.

"Oh." She made to release her hand from his, but he held firm. In fact, he pulled her closer, just a little.

"No, I'm not going to kiss your bruised pride back into place. Because I promise you, it's going to heal just fine on its own. You don't need a kiss from me or anyone to remind you what you're worth. You never have. It's one of my favourite things about you. Understand?"

Her reply was a little choked up when it came. "Got it."

She gravitated closer, her eyes shining, and he felt like he was losing his mind. He was certainly losing his nerve. He settled instead for raising her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss across her knuckles.

"That's one for the road."

He released her then, though nearly every part of his was screaming at him to do the opposite. Thankfully, she looked just as shaken as he felt. He nearly twisted his ankle in a gutter trying to put a little distance between them. And then he had one perfect surge of stupid confidence, and turned back to face her. She was still standing under the streetlight where he'd left her, looking oddly incomplete.

"Will you do me a favour, Swan?" he called out.

She held up her hands in a helpless shrug. "Sure."

"When the time is right, ask me again."

Then with his heart hammering a million miles a minute, he turned away and slipped into the adjoining street, and back into the night.

[red-writing-on-asylum-walls]

FebuWhump Day 17: Field Surgery

Based on a series of drawings Em did a long while ago that I’m too lazy to go look up and link here.

I had Adagio for TRON playing on repeat for an hour while I wrote this because that’s my dramatically tragic writing music. Anyway, I don’t think this one turned out as well I imagined it in my head. But it was still fun to write. Most of what I know about “meatball surgery” comes from watching M*A*S*H.

Warnings: meatball surgery, improper tools for medical procedures, descriptions of medical procedures, vomiting, foreign substances, blood, trauma

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

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back? You don’t look like you’re doing that well…” Max hovers uncertainly, watching Milo stumble through the underbrush to catch up.

“No, no, I’m good,” Milo gasps, leaning against a tree, “Jus’…jus’ need to catch my breath is all…” Sweat has matted his hair to his forehead and he’s dreadfully pale, breath wheezing out of his lungs, his legs shaking where he stands. Max gives him a doubtful look and Milo plasters on a pained grin, straightening up, “See! Just needed a break! No prob—“ His smile drops and he convulses, hands flying to his mouth.

Black sludge erupts through his fingers and splatter down his front, staining his hoodie.

“Milo!” Max runs back as Milo’s eyes roll and his legs give out from under him. Max manages to catch his friend before he hits the ground, easing them both to the forest floor with Milo propped in hi lap. Milo’s eyes are lidded and unfocused, his nose has started bleeding and the red is tangling with steady stream of sludge oozing out of his mouth now.

“Milo! MILO!” Max presses his fingers to Milo’s neck, feels a pulse fluttering there, and then whimpers when Milo’s body shudders and a fresh deluge of gunk splatters down his cheek to splat into the undergrowth. Max’s eyes are burning and his hands are shaking as he frantically looks around for help.

But there’s nobody out except for them.

They’re in the middle of the woods, hiking around to nowhere in particular, exploring because the sun is out and the weather is nice and they had energy to burn.

They’re just kids and stuff like this isn’t supposed to happen to them.

“Help, help, gotta get you help…” Maxis mutters, shifting Milo in his arms as he clambers to his feet, “Could fly you back…would get me in trouble…no wait, I don’t know if I have the stamina to carry you and fly…” He looks around helplessly—nothing but forest and trees and nature and sunlight through the canopy and everything looks so happy when it has no right to! Milo gags, his head lolling backwards to expose the pale stretch of his neck, his throat bulging. Panicked, Max shift Milo so Milo is sideways in his arms and more of that awful, pungent black ooze comes frothing out of his mouth. There’s red in it now and Max doesn’t know if it’s from Milo’s nosebleed or something worse.

Something internal.

It’s hurting Milo.

It needs to come out.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Max hurries back the way they came to a clearing they’d passed through a few minutes before. It’s open to the sky, full of light and flowers. It’s very beautiful. And it has exactly what Max needs.

Max carefully lays Milo out on the soft green grass of the clearing and gently removes the stained shark hoodie, folding it up to rest under Milo’s head. Milo coughs up another bout of black sludge, his eyes closed now, his breathing weak and shallow. Maxis works faster, frantically trying to recall everything he knows about field surgery as he goes. He shoves Milo’s t-shirt out of the way and shrugs out of his own vest. The water bottle in his pocket is lukewarm and he focuses on channeling heat into it until it’s boiling. As it cools on the grass next to him, Max tugs at the loose thread of his t-shirt, carefully unravelling as much of it as he can. When his fingers fail, he pulls his pocket knife from his shorts and picks the hem of his shirt apart. When he thinks he’s got enough thread, he inspects his knife and tests the edge of the blade. Still sharp. He looks down at Milo’s pale face, stained in red and black.

“Sorry, Milo,” He whispers, “This is gonna suck a lot…”

Max pours the hot water over the knife first, then Milo’s chest, and then his own hands.

Then he kneels in the grass next to his unconscious friend.

The knife quivers in his hands and he has to take several steadying breaths. He’s never done this before, not on a live person. Not on a friend.

He expects Milo to scream when the knife cut into his belly. But the only sound Milo makes is a gurgling moan. More black sludge crawls up his throat and smears down his face. It doesn’t stop.

Max tears his gaze away from Milo’s face and concentrates on his work.

He tries desperately not to think about how this is his friend. He tries to focus on what’s in front of him and ignore the rattling wheeze of his friend’s labored breathing, tries not to look at the pale face smeared in gore. If he starts thinking about Milo, he can feel the desperate, hopeless fear and panic trying to claw their way to the forefront of his mind. And he can’t afford it. Milo can’t afford it. So Max grits his teeth and keeps going, stubbornly ignoring the tears that want to spring into his eyes and obscure his vision.

It’s bloody work and Max has never had so much red on his hands.

But he remembers his training, remembers where to cut and how to hold his knife, how to gently slide his fingers between membranes and organs. He knows Milo is losing blood and losing it fast, so Max just has to work faster. He tries to find something, anything out of place. But nothing looks wrong. Milo’s insides are the way a normal teenage boy’s insides are supposed to look and—

Max finds something dark and oozing clinging to the rear of Milo’s stomach.

That is definitely not supposed to be there.

Swallowing hard, Max slides his knife between the black thing and the organ. It takes a bit of careful leveraging but after a moment Maxis able to peel it off with a sort of awful slurping noise. It’s hooked to the inside of Milo’s stomach with a long, thin arm of sorts and Max carefully tugs it free, using his other hand to press against the small hole it leaves behind to prevent stomach acid from leaking into Milo’s abdominal cavity. He drops the black thing on the grass beside him and snaps the zipper off his vest, using his strength and powers to fashion it into a crude, thin needle. It will be messy but it will get the job done. A hospital can patch him up properly.

Milo still doesn’t move when Max stitches closed the tiny hole in his stomach.

Nor does he when Max holds his skin and muscles together and closes him with grey thread already staining darker with blood.

But he’s still breathing.

Max counts that as a win.

He splashes the last of the water over Milo’s front and tries to scrub the worst of the stains from his hands. They’re still dark and still very red.

Max glances at the thing on the ground that he’d pulled out of his friend.

He’s never seen anything like it before. He remember once Milo joking about having a parasite. Is this a parasite? It doesn’t seem right. Something about it has Max on edge. It fills him with a raw disgust and visceral need to get as far away from it as possible. Something about this thing is wrong. It’s iridescent in a way that somehow sucks in the line, a blotch of darkness on the world that prickles Maxis’ sense of danger, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He’s considering burning the thing with a well placed fireball when there’s a shift in the grass beside him.

Max snaps his head around to see Milo stirring. His eyes are wide open now, sickly and unfocused, dazed like someone’s rattled his skull. But at least he sounds like he’s breathing normally.

“Milo, thank goodness, I’m glad you’re awake,” Max sighs in relief, “I gotta get you to a hospital, though, you lost a lot of blood and—Milo, wait!”

Milo struggles to sit up, heedless of the pain he should be in with the fresh wound in his stomach. His head lolls, flopping almost lifelessly on his shoulders, mouth hanging open and sweat and tears mixing with the blood and gunk smeared on his face. He looks like a puppet on someone else’s strings, being dragged along to someone else’s song, and it’s got Max on edge.

“Milo, you need to lie down,” Max urges, putting a placating hand on Milo’s shoulder, trying to gently push his friend back. But Milo resists, leaning forward instead. One pale, quivering hand reaches under Max’s arm, “Milo! Please! You shouldn’t be trying to move right now!”

“…M…Max…” Milo wheezes and his voice sound hoarse, his throat no doubt raw and sore from the constant vomit.

“Milo! Milo, I’m right here!” Max grabs at Milo, holding him up as Milo sways alarmingly. There’s a distant fog in his eyes, staring into nothing, like he can’t see Max or the clearing or anything anymore. Adrenaline and panic start gnawing at the back of Max’s mind and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep them at bay.

“Max…” Says Milo in a voice that doesn’t sound like him at all. He sounds lost, hypnotized, vacant even. His hands paw at the air, shaking, and he clutches at the sleeve of Max’s shirt when he finds it, fingers dragging slowly at the fabric, “Mmmaaaaaaaxx…”

“Easy, Milo, take it easy,” Max shifts, sliding his arms around Milo as his taller friend clutches at him like a lifeline, “Deep breaths, Milo, deep breaths, it’ll be okay, I’ve got you, I promise, I’m right here for you!”

“Max…” Milo whimpers again. Confusion, vacant panic, desperation, something wholly and profoundly wrong twisting in his voice, “I…I can’t…I can’t…feel…I…”

It scares Max, this specter of his usually energetic and lively friend. Maxis has never been scared before, not like this. But this does not feel like Milo. This feels like an empty creature, haunted by something awful and unspeakable, and it fills Maxis with a dread he can’t put into words.

But Milo’s hands are holding onto him, clutching at him with a frightened familiarity. The way Milo had grabbed at him when that horror movie they’d been watching had scared him.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Max says, snatching up his vest and the shark hoodie, one to wear and one to tie around his waist for safe keeping. After a second of thought, he grabs the black thing still oozing sludge onto the grass and stuffs it into the pocket of his vest. Milo is clutching at him like he’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on and Max has to struggle with him for a moment before he can stand up, “I’m gonna get you to a hospital, okay? You’re gonna be all right, Milo. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.”

Max hefts Milo up in his arms despite his friend’s larger size. Then he takes off running, vanishing into the trees in a whirl of wind that rustles the grass and leaves with his speed. Milo lets out a choked sob in his arms and presses his face into Max’s stained shirt.

And Maxis, not for the first time in his life, wishes that his powers worked on people other than himself.

[exodusmc]

Outsider 06

Genre: Power au, war au, rebel au

Words: 1495

Paring: Light manipulator Baekhyun  x  Lieutenant Reader

Side character/s: Yixing

Warning!: Mentions of nightmares, drugs, medical equipment, needles,  stop of puls, talk about death

a/n: Chanyeol’s solo is so beautiful and I really like that Vivi is in Sehun’s. :)

Gif is not mine 

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The reflexion in the mirror looked tired, weak with bitten lips. Baekhyun stared at himself, not believing it was him. Was that really him? Looking so empty? It was and he shouldn't be surprised. Ever since he had been caught and put in the box had he not been forced to make sure he survived, no, he would just wake up and there would be something to eat, which meant he had time to think, remember all the suppressed nightmares swirling in his mind. A sigh pushed past his mouth, orbs slipping through the empty room. He was alone, like most of the time, and it hurt. Before could he at least pretend but that wasn't the case anymore, his differences always shoved in his face. 

Getting out from the bathroom, Baekhyun tensed. Beside the guard were you standing, talking lowly. The door shut behind him and he felt dread pinch his skin, you gazed at him, speaking words which dried his mouth.

“Good morning Byun, I have to perform some tests which had been left out from your file.”

-

The light was dim, a lone chair standing in the middle, Baekhyun sitting on it. Tubes and machines were connected to him, pierced his skin. You stared through the glass, glaring at his vitals, making sure you didn't miss a thing. The black patch attached to his forehead read his brain waves, another right over his heart. A special form of drug had been given to him, a drug which let your organs keep working but taking away you, the power to move when you wanted. It didn't work for too long and if it was given in high doses could it kill. 

“Put on the first scenario…”the hospital didn't have everything needed to perform all of the tests but you were unsure if you really wanted to do the worst ones.

His brain waves increased, signaling he started to see pictures from the needle in his neck, heartbeat going a little faster. What you knew was there only images of the republic sigil and ads beings shown but his reaction still fueled by fear. Someone wrote down his vitals, every move of the green line.

“Next one..”an exhale left you, eyes following his still body, but the line turned straight.”What is he shown?”

Darkness creep up Baekhyun's legs, clawed at flesh until it was everywhere. Thick and like oil, swallowing him whole. He felt like he was a child again, covering in his room, crying. Figures moved around, grabbed him, tore his skin. Air couldn't reach his lungs, shallow breaths racing through his body, but it wasn't enough. Panic crawled over his numb limbs, unable to move, to see. 

“No no no NO!”suddenly was there no darkness or monsters, only light. It held him carefully, cradled his tear stained face. His lips were parted, chest slowly stopping the rushed intake of oxygen. He relaxed but kept the light close, let it be a part of him, making him less lonely.

Yixing watched you with surprised eyes. He had never seen anything like this happen before, a high ranking person struggling to help an unnatural. When Baekhyun’s mind had panicked, creating a light so bright it crushed the glass and machines, had you jumped to him. All the tubes were taken out from his trembling body, hands helping him down on the floor as you searched for a pulse and breathing. You hadn't felt it at first, even when his body jerked, so you performed cpar, hands burning from the sheer heat he was lingering in. It had been so bright, his light, bright like you had never seen before. And when a sigh left him, were you panting by his side. Baekhyun survived but didn't open his eyes. That’s when Yixing stepped in, taking the sleeping boy to one of his rooms, however, now could he be sure, sure that you would help him as the time came. 

-

Why? Why did you jump through glass, ripping your arms open, just so you could help the unnatural? You shouldn't care but you had and it hurt your head. Bandages wrapped around your wounds, laying softly against the wood as you wrote, letters not as neatly as they should be. Byun was scared of the dark, so much so he almost became pure energy in the form of light. You had closed your eyes just in time to keep your sight. He had been on the brink of death, a few wires having tron his skin open. 

“Case 04’s biggest weakness known as of now is darkness. It forced his body to turn into the most primitive way of protection, almost killing himself in the process…”he had lit up like a thousand stars, black hair burning gold together with his eyes. It scared you slightly, because it meant that the unnatural were extremely powerful, but at the same time was it dangerous for themselves.”...Case 04 were unable to continue tests after. Lieutenant Shin Y/n Juniela 23 year 4508, time 20:02.”

The pen landed against your desk, laid still as you stared. Ever sinces you got to this place with case 04, had your head hurt. You had seen things, felt things, done things, you shouldn't. It was like your reality was slowly crashing down, lies reaching up to your ears. Never had the scared eyes affected you but it changed, made you want to throw up when you were the monster in their eyes. The nightmares felt like memories and you couldn't think of the unnatural as bad. Red and black were what you wore but it meant nothing. 

Outside your window was the world in peace, grass covering the ground, but there was so much more going on, you just couldn't see it like you used to, hidden so far away from it all. Rebels were coming close and they were after what you fought for, maybe even you, because even if you hadn't killed in months, didn't it mean you’ve never done it before. Crimson had splatted over your boots and they had gotten cleaned of, while whoever was unfortunate was forgotten, erased from this life.  Killing was what you did, raised on fear and anger, but they were put on the wrong people. Innocent were no one, however, some were evil. 

A sigh passed your lips, glass panes open so wind could stroke against you cheek. You eyed the forest, wondering of the world’s secrets and what it was like living in the past. All of earth couldn't be dying, there had to be a place which was blooming, full of life like it was back then. There had to be a place where you weren't a killer.

-

Baekhyun groaned, mind groggy and body sore. The last thing he remembered were needles, so many needles poking his skin. But then there was darkness, and his throat clogged up. Sitting up rapidly, Baekhyun felt his head spin, whatever he had in his stomach coming rushing up. Someone held out a bucket were the content of  his stomach could fill, coughs rising up through his lungs as he tried to breathe. Baekhyun saw his hand through the unshed tears in his eyes and felt more panic hit him. A needle with a clear tube was connected to him, just like before. Muffled cries left him, fingers trying to rip the tube out.

“No no, Baekhyun.. relax..”Yixing held back Baekhyun’s hand, forcing him to keep his breath until it steadied and he slumped back down on the white sheets.”..It’s okay..It only an IV bag with saline..for your dehydration..” 

Cloudy orbs moved around the room, lips dry. Yixing exhaled, staring at the white bandages Baekhyun wore, swallowing when the boy leaned back. 

“It’s okay now, I promise..”the doctor started writing and Baekhyun couldn't stop feeling like when he was lock on the chair, but his arms were free, he could move.”..You’re alive because of Lieutenant Y/n and that is great news, it means our chances of getting out of here increase ten fold.”

Yixing spoke but Baekhyun couldn't get over the first part of his statement. You saved him? Why? You were the one who put him in that situation in the first place, so why save him? Did you know something?

“Sleep some more..”Dr Zhang's voice broke the spirleiling of Baekhyun’s thoughts, coaxing his heavy eyelids to fall down, but he couldn't stop thinking about you, what your motivation was, where you had your heart..if you had a heart. He almost felt scared of the thought of you having no heart to strear you. In some ways were you like him, alone and not like anyone else. His eyelashes fluttered as new thought danced across his mind, made him see your empty eyes filled with something else. Maybe you were even more of an outsider than he was.

Tags: @shesdreaminginoverdose​

[tronnyboyo]

Grande Galerie

Woah! A fic from Iris?! More likely than you think. (Also posted on AO3)

Rating: Teen

AU: Of Lace and Porcelain (The Horror Movie Superstar!Thomas one where he turns pretty much everyone that enters his house into a living doll)

Relationship(s): Background vkai

Warnings: Self-harm, implied mutilation, Christopher’s general messed up state of mind in the Of Lace and Porcelain universe, disturbing themes in general

    “Mirrors do not lie,” said his mother as she stood behind him. 

   Her face was blurred in the memory, an amalgamation of round glasses and freckles. She rested her soft lips on top of his head and then pulled away. As always, she smelled pleasant, a potpourri of roses and freshly laundered clothes. He never knew what she used to smell so nice, but sometimes, he would go into her room and lay there, surrounded in dust and her lingering scent.

   “The mirror tells me that you are my beautiful son,” she breathed, tapping her finger on his cheek. 

   He had smiled then, his youthful eyes filled with vibrant light. With his silver hair brushed back and a newly tailored suit on his pale skin, he had to agree. He was beautiful. 

   How he has come to hate yet crave that word. At parties, he would be surrounded by his father’s guests. They would all ooh and ahh at his features, marveling in his delicate face. Next to his father, he was considered an accessory, scientific accomplishments snuffed out by his father’s own. After all, he was merely an assistant. 

   Even after his father’s return and the parties stopped, Christopher’s own accomplishments were put aside for his appearance. As he aged, he often looked into the mirror. Sometimes, he heard a small voice begging for his body to stop. Stop growing out such long and lovely silver locks. Stop growing such slender and elegant legs. Stop narrowing his face and elongating his facial features. And yet it continued. 

    He wanted to scream at times. Just to collapse and furiously shout at the next person that called him beautiful instead of congratulating him on his latest scientific accomplishment. Take a knife and cut up his face beyond recognition. Violently hack at his hair with a pair of scissors until there was nothing but tufts of silver. Then they would have to put his scientific accomplishments over his face. Just like the ugly genius that was Kaito’s father. 

   Yet he could never do it. He loved his face too much. Its long and sharp nose. Sharp cheekbones that gave him a severe look whenever he was deep in thought. The deep blue pupils nestled in those sad eyes. That pointed chin. He was beautiful. And yet..and yet…

   Could they be lying to him? Was he like the hideous nymph Platée, who had been bewitched by the gods into believing that she was the most beautiful creature on earth? A victim of a cruel prank? Were they all laughing at him—brothers included—behind his back? 

    No, no, no, they couldn’t be, he thought as he ran his brush through his hair. Silver, shiny, silky and rare. In a world of bright hair colors, he stood out alone for his lack of color. But was he called ‘beautiful’ in truth or was he merely an oddity like a leucistic python? 

   The scissors shone on his vanity with a tempting glint. What if he were to...No. He couldn’t do that. Not here, not now. Taking in a deep breath, he continued to run the brush down his hair. One, two, three. He would brush the same area until he reached 50. His mother had softly whispered in his ear as she did so, her touch so loving and gentle. She had done so every single night with the same dedicated precision. Wreathed in her flowery perfume, he would forget about his worries. Perhaps it was the closest feeling he could ever have to peace after leaving her womb. 

    How could he have been so cruel to her? Four, five, six. She had loved him with all of her heart, and yet he had lost her in a fit of adolescent rage. Had she known about his sexual orientation, even then? He’ll never know, but he’s sure she had. Mothers have a tendency of knowing things about their children before they themselves did. 

    Whenever he was with Kaito, he couldn’t help but ponder. What would she have said, once he had brought Kaito home and announced to her that they had loved each other? Cry tears of joy, most likely. Ten, eleven, twelve. She was always so emotional. How could someone with such an open and loving heart be labelled as “mad?” 

   Tears brimmed in his eyes but he knew that he musn’t shed them. They would only ruin the eyeliner that he had worked so hard on. He must remain beautiful. 18, 19, 20. It was all he had at times. Interdimensional portals and scientifically crafted cards be damned. He would always be merely a pretty face. 25,26,27. No matter what he did, someone would always remind him of his physical trappings. Beautiful people weren’t supposed to work this hard, especially in the sciences. Why was he wasting his time here, in such a boorish place, than a film set or a studio? 

   “Because I love this,” he would reply. “It’s a passion of mine.”

   Surprise would fill his interlocutor’s eyes. 

   “Oh.”

    You? Interested in interdimensional studies? A single comment with weight behind it. He could see it in their eyes. See it in their smiles, wavering for a split second. The slight tilt of their head expressing their surprise. They never expected much from him, with his sad eyes and pretty face. 3536373839. 

   Clumps of silver ripped out of his scalp in a series of velcro-like noises. He picked them out of his brush and threw them into the waste bin, already filled with previous artifacts of his agitation. 

   “See that it doesn’t happen again,” uttered Tron, issuing a reprimand. 

   40414243. Clump by clump his hair was ripped out. He knocked over a bottle of cologne and shouted in frustration. Maybe he should just be beautiful. 44. Nothing to think about. No difficult expectations. Just to exist and appear presentable. 45. Days full of blissful oblivion where he could wholeheartedly accept others’ compliments instead of wondering when they would ask about his work. 46. All he would have to do is wear silk and smile. 47. 

    The ornaments choking up the mountain of his hair seemed to jingle in agreement. 48. A warm wetness dribbled down from his forehead and onto the lovely dress that Thomas had taken all morning to choose. 49. Finally. Something other than the sickly scent of powder that Thomas had always coated his face and neck with. Blood. 50. 

   Click. The lights turned on and he could tell from the panicked footsteps that it was Thomas. It would never be his father’s measured footsteps. He had lost hope that they would be saved weeks ago. Before he could bang his head against the wall for the fifty-first time, his immobile body was pulled back by strong arms. 

   “Oh, my queen, my poor, beautiful queen,” crooned Thomas, running his hand down his brother’s porcelain arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

   With the utmost care, Thomas lifted Christopher over his shoulder, blood still dripping down his forehead. His deep blue eyes were glassy, brimming with tears. He didn’t register the worried expressions of Mrs. Arclight, Rose and Ninah’s as he was carried out. Ah. When did he start using the names Thomas used for them? Kaito, Michael and Ryoga...Yes, those were their names. But he supposed that those names should be forgotten now. No one was coming to save them anyways. 

    As they walked down the halls of their mansion, Christopher heard Thomas murmuring reassurances to the both of them. They were too quiet for him to have understood, but he doubted that they would have been helpful anyways. Passing the staircase, Christopher wondered what would happen if he were to throw himself down those carpeted steps. Pearls, feathers and flowers strewn across the floors. Silks and lace in tatters. His porcelain limbs in broken heaps. His flesh torn and mangled. A broken doll. 

    The sting of tears filled his eyes. Before he could stop them, he felt them fall from his eyes. Yet he knew that he shouldn’t cry. It would only ruin his makeup.

[silent-stalker]

💖 [ sent in super late, i know, so if this isn't valid anymore then please ignore it. no pressure. :3 ]

How likely they are to enter a relationship with them:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Would they…

Make the first move? Yes | No 

Say “I love you” first? Yes | No (Megatron would beat him to it)

Cheat on them? Yes | No 

Be the jealous type? Yes | No 

Plan the dates? Yes | No (he’d try, anyway)

Initiate the first kiss? Yes | No (it totally counts if its just a visor pressed against Megatron’s face, right?)

Remember anniversaries? Yes | No

BOLD WHAT APPLIES:

Their Relationship Is:

friends to lovers | rivals to lovers | enemies to lovers | still just enemies | mutual pining | star crossed lovers | old married couple | perpetual honeymoon phase | stable and boring | stable but not boring | secret lovers | best friends hiding their feelings | and they were roommates | friends with benefits | coworkers avoiding HR | one-sided affection | weird sexual tension | it’s complicated | toxic relationship | a secret affair | an actual dumpster fire | other

PUBLIC Displays of Affection:

hand holding | kiss on the hand | kiss on the cheek | kiss on the forehead | kiss on the lips |  cuddling | hugging | affectionate messages or comments | pet names | pictures together | no displays of affection

PRIVATE Displays of Affection:

hand holding | kiss on the hand | kiss on the cheek | kiss on the forehead | kiss on the lips |  cuddling | hugging | affectionate messages or comments | pet names | pictures together | no displays of affection

Do they stay together?

yes, this is endgame | yes but someone is gonna die tragically | something is keeping them apart | they part ways as friends | they part ways as enemies | they’re on-again-off-again | they have a super messy breakup | it was just a fling | other

BONUS

What terrible pet names would they give each other? ‘Tron, love, “living heater” would call him Bucket or Legs when feeling playful. 

[aerithstrife20]

The Children.

A year after Nala was born. Kion and Tron were born. Kion and Tron resembles their father with his blue eyes, but their auburn/red hair came from their mother.

A year after the twins were born. Kala was born into the family. Kala the daughter of Sora and Kairi and the sister of Nala, Kion and Tron, she resembles her mother, but her hair was mix between red and brown, but when Kala turns 14 she will dye her hair to Purple.

Nala age 6

Kion age 5

Tron age 5

Kala age 4

Kairi was sitting on the couch watching her children play, she just had her shower, she had on her night gown, she also already brush her teeth, she gave her children a bath and they got on their night clothes.

The door opens up and Sora returns after from working all day. "I'm home!" He shouted as he shuts the door with his foot.

Nala and Kion ran over to their father with Kala and Tron following them.

Sora looks at them with a smile as he crouches down. "Hey kids, how is daddy's four beautiful children?"

Nala giggles. "I'm good."

"I'm good as well." Kion said.

Kala nods. "Me too."

Tron yawns. "I'm good as well."

"That's good." Sora said patting their heads and then gets up as he leaves the rod towards the wall and walks towards Kairi as he sits down on the couch next to her, completely tired. "What a day." He says and then looks at Kairi.

Kairi smiles at him and hugs him. "I'm glad your home, Sora because I miss you."

He smiles by the hug and wraps his arm around her. "I miss you too Kairi."

Nala sighs. "Aww man it's time for bed for us."

"Oh man." Kion said.

Kala sighs. "I know, but I don't want to go to bed."

Tron yawns. "I'm not sleepy!"

"Ok! You four, I think it's that time for me to continue my tale I told you about yesterday, so if you go, brush you teeth, and head to the bed, then daddy will be there a second." Sora smiles.

Kairi kisses her children good night.

Nala went to brush her teeth.

Kion went upstairs to brush his teeth.

Kala also went to brush her teeth.

Tron also went upstairs to brush his teeth.

After they were done, the children went into the bedroom.

Sora soon arrives after he took his shower and brush his teeth and got on his night clothes, he finds a chair to sit down on. "After getting taking to a strange new world, the boy got separated from his two friends and the search for them began. This was where he met his two companions, a magician and a guardian. They helped the boy out searching for his friends while helping them searching for their king." He continues. He was basically telling the story of his journey, but without revealing it's himself and their mother, he was talking about.

Nala smiled. "Were they good help to him?"

Sora smiled. "Yeah, and you know what else? They were strong together, nothing could stop them for reaching their goals. Their hearts was like one, one big strong heart that couldn't be defeated no matter what." He tells them.

Nala, Kion, Kala and Tron smiled, they loved this story.

Sora smiles. "Welp, guess that's all for tonight. You four better get some sleep, okay?" He said.

Nala smiles. "Okay."

He smiles and kisses their foreheads. "Good night, you four." He says as he then walks out of the room.

Kala went into her bedroom.

Kion went into his bedroom.

Tron also went into his bedroom.

Nala went to sleep in her bed.

Sora returns to Kairi in the living room.

Kairi smiles at him.

"Well, that's taking care of." He said as he then sits down on the coach relaxing a bit.

She nods and hugs him.

He hugs her back and smiles.

She smiles at him and kisses his lips.

He closes his eyes and kisses her back.

She pulls away smiling and blushing.

He smiles back. "I love the way you blush." He tells her.

She kept on blushing. "Sora!"

He laughs a little and pulls her gently closer into him. "It's true."

She smiles as she hugs him and kisses his lips, he hugs back and kisses her lips, she lays her head on his chest, he picks her up and carrys her upstairs to their bedroom, he lays her gentle on their bed, he shuts the door and locks it. He walks over to Kairi and laid down next to her, he pulls her close to him and started to kiss her lips, she kisses his lips.

They broke the kiss and stares at each other.

"I love you Kairi."

"I love you too Sora."

She then kisses his cheek.

He smiles by the kiss.

She hugs him.

He hugs her back and kisses her on the lips closing his eyes.

She smiles at him.

He wraps his arms around her, he enjoyed the moment with his wife.

She blushes and kisses his lips, she wraps her arms around him.

Sora continues to kiss her lips as he wraps his arms around her, she kept her arms wrap around and kisses his lips, he then kisses her neck, she moans. She then kisses his neck as he moans.

"Sora."

"Yes, my love?"

"I love you."

"I love you too Kairi."

They then went to sleep as they lay in a loving embrace.

[spideyjlaw]

My Avengers Endgame World Premiere experience

this is really long, lota rambling feel free to read skim anything idc, no spoilers bc this was on Monday before I saw the movie :) 

Ok Ima start Saturday night, this is when I was packing making and painting my posters that said “Thank You Avengers”, I live in California so I didn’t have to fly to this event. At 12am we (my family) we arrive in Los Angeles around 5am. At this time I thought that the premiere was going to be at El Capitan Theatre where it was originally supposed to be. We drive by the theater and we see no one is in line which was weird bc normally there would be people here already so i search and find the location which was switched last min (smh) the drive to the next location wasnt too long but at least i knew i was at the right location bc of the small group of fans and the giant poster that said Avengers Endgame World Premiere. Apparently they changed the location bc they needed a larger screening room and they didnt want tons of fans showing up, there were these girls that were waiting at the El Capitan for 2 hours before they realized something was up. Anyway, we get in line. People who were in charge told the people who stayed over night to go home bc there wasnt going to be a fan area. No one left ofc who would hell no. Then some people went on twitter to talk about it made signs it was confusing but we ended up in a fan area after going through security. We got into the fan area at 12 ish and we had to stand there for another 4 and a half hours before anything exciting happens. Now its around 4pm people are starting to arrive. (THIS IS WHEN THE ACTION STARTS) Benedict Wong then Joe Russo. Not many came all the way down the line, I was the last one on the line before it wrapped around the corner. But I did want to get barricade and able to see action so Im grateful for my spot. Then Anthony Mackie arrives he’s walking to end of the fan area around the small corner but as hes walking right as he gets near me i scream at the top of my lungs, he stops right in front of me and i go “AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!ANTHONYYYYY MACKiE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!” he looks at me biggest smile. We had a whole moment together its hard to explain its kinda like a ‘you had to be there moment’ i was the longest person probably a good 20 seconds (which is a long ass time in these times when they are in a rush) he was at and while im screaming and fangirling he air grabs my head to fucking sign my forehead i closed my eyes and accepted it he didnt do it ofc but he was just a fun guy i love him soooo much he signs my posters while saying “There’s no black guy on here” (i did an original 6 themed avengers poster) but he signed than signed my bosslogic poster which he was in. paul rudd comes by hes just a rocking dude i love scott lang sm, he was so sweets v cool guys sm love for him. Then at around 5pm Chris freaking Hemsworth arrives I loose my shit and so does everyone else. Just like Joe, Benedict Wong & Anthony he also went around the corner to make sure they got all of the fans (thank u to all who did this). Ive loved Hemsie for the longest time, i did get teary eyed but i didnt cry (yet) he was just the sweetest I was able to take a crappy photo with him bc i wasnt able to function properly as i took the pic my dumbass was like “iLOvEyoUsOmUCh” its oka cause he has the cutest smile and the bluest eyes oh and i cant stress enough he smelled so good sooooo good normally i hate when guys coat themselves in cologne cause it smells bad, but his didnt, his smelled so good i was so shook like chris drop what cologne u used idc its for guys mama neeeddds. THEN IT hAPPENEd CHRISTOPHER ROBERT EVANS DRIVES BY. Everyone was like “omg is that chris evans?!”  I stand on the barricade to see if i can catch a peak, istg the moment the fucking moment he gets out the car i start to bawl my eyes out. This man who has meant more to me than anyone is over there i couldnt believe i was seeing my favorite human ever. I’ve only sobbed right as i saw my fave once before back in 2016 at the Passengers premiere when I met Jennifer Lawrence. People dont really understand the moment like this person has inspired me so much of course im going to cry and sure judge me for it but they helped me through so much. Anyway he looked soo hot in his blue suit and sunglasses. I kinda calm down bc i didnt know if he was going to come all the way down the line and yk my ass wanted a pic but he was cut half way though the people which was upsetting but again im extremely grateful to be able to see him. Then my main fucking man. Sebastian Stan arrives. see ive met the guy before last year at ace comic con (there was tea w my photo op being really messy and i hated it i got a refund u can read about that on my ace comic con post). anyway i see him. i dont cry im trying to wipe my tears i was more prepared cause ive seen him before it was gonna be ok. I lose my shit the man was wearing a baby blue pastel colored suit. fucking beautiful. iconic. very hot of you mr seb ty. hes walking down and hes getting close. he wasnt to smiley, he was taking pics but he was focused on the fans signing for as many fans as possible. He gets to me and he sees our pics then he looks u so we could take a pic and his smile just transforms you can just see his face just glow up it was the truly the cutest this ive ever experience. then we look up from the pic and hes smiling at me i tell him “I love you so much” i hear him chuckle but as he says something his security guy yells “thank you that enough” so ill be posting the vid of us and any lip readers can help a girl out ill love you forever. I ended up being Sebs last person from the fan area. he truly made my day, week fucking year. then other celebs such as jon favreau, benedict cumberbatch comes by. Jeremy Renner comes by. I shoot my shot and make small talk w Jeremy. I go “Hi Jermey how’s your day going?” he goes “I’m doing really good, how bout you?” he signs my things i excitingly tell him “I’m doing great thank you” then he goes “Thank you honey” and smiles at me. It made me really happy, i could tell he was a bit tired but Jeremy is such a sweetheart he doesnt get the credit he deserves i love him sm, ive always has a little part of my heart for Hawkeye. minutes go by. I see Lizzie Olsen, Danai Gurira, beautiful ofc. then i see fucking Mark Ruffalo hes just standing behind one of the SUVs and the sun is on him. He looked like a confused puppy it was so cute and soft, i love my ruffalo buffalo. I took my moment to scream “iS THat MARK ruFFALO?” i dont think he signed for many fans. Scarjo arrives she doesnt sign for many either she looked beautiful v pretty. a little while passes than the most bitching car comes by and stops where the cars stop until the drop off area clears and they can go. we all knew who ever was in that car he was important. then it was his time to go cause the drop off area was cleared. guess who was in the drivers seat. You guessed right. Robert Downey Jr rolling up in an Audi E-TRON, with his wife Susan Downey in the passenger seat. Truly the Tony Stark entrance. he doesnt sign for many ofc. at this time it was getting later near 6pm almost all celebs and guests are inside where the actual premiere set up is. then Vin Diesel comes in. He was the most fan based guy. even though he was running late he ran (literally speed walking) through the whole line of fans around the corner and everything. he had the biggest smile on. wearing his groot jacket. and if u dont know fast and furious are one of my fave franchises of all time so i was having the best time. then that was the last person and we started heading out. i didnt name all who ive seen since there was just to many and i probably missed some things but i loved my experience. i was able to see all the original avengers irl and that made me really happy. this whole cast means the world to me. ill love them forever 

[angel-with-a-pipette]

Title: Kiss me three times

Summary: The final fight was looming over their heads and it was impossible for Sora to stay in bed and get all the sleep he needed. Going for a walk instead, he found out he wasn't the only sleepless person that morning.

Rating: Teen audience

Genre: Romance

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Disney/Square Enix. A Sokai story. 

This is part three of a three part series called “Don’t think twice”. Yay, I did it in time! :D Happy Sokai day!!

Also available on: ao3 | ff.net

Please enjoy!

Suffocating was the only word Sora could think of as he stared up at the ceiling in the tiny room he was inhabiting in Radiant Garden's Castle Town. As if the walls slowly closed down on him, making it harder and harder to breath until they finally crashed his lungs.

He shot up from the bed, sweat beading on his forehead.

He knew that feeling too well. His fight instincts kicked in already, with all the stress and preparation that had went into their final battle with Xehanort, it was no surprise, but it wouldn't do to be exhausted during the fight of Light against Darkness.

He needed to get out of here. Quickly.

Checking the time on his alarm clock, Sora swiftly swung his legs over the edge of his bed and grabbed his clothes that in a rare turn of events lay on his desk, washed and cleaned and ready to put on. He threw it on as quickly as possible and ran out.

Outside of the house, Sora was hit by crisp, fresh air, and he took a deep breath, filling his lungs to the brim before he breathed out just as thoroughly, repeating that action several times to calm his racing heart. It worked, thankfully, but it seemed like he was past the point of sleep anyway, so with an exasperated sigh, Sora decided to take a walk through town.

A lot of the structures still needed rebuilding, but but the Restoration Committee had done some amazing progress even in the short time he had been away again. But something else caught his eye: Tiny glittering sparkles that softly illuminated the street. They reminded him of the gift Tron had given them half a year ago, a glimpse at the old, thriving Radiant Garden. Curious to see where the phenomenon came from, Sora swiftly climbed the steps up to the outer wall of the city when he already spotted the source of the sparkles that was sitting right on the wall above the stairs.

A smile spread over Sora's lips.

He took the rest of the stairs two steps at once until he was up and stopped. Ever since his last visit, they had removed the old rusted wire mesh fence, allowing the residents to have a clear view of the green fields that had started to grow all around the city. But that wasn't what had caught his attention. What caught his attention was a girl, no, a young woman with red hair he would recognize everywhere. She had raised her hands up a little, palms up, catching some of the sparkling flecks that were dancing around her and made her violet eyes shine.

“This is beautiful.”

A soft gasp escaped the girl and she clasped her hands together, pulling them to her chest and stopping the magic as she looked around frantically to see her intruder. Once she saw him, she sighed a relieved sigh and grinned down at him.

“Sora!”

Said boy grinned in return and didn't waste a second jumping up to sit down next to her.

“You can't sleep either, huh?”

“Nope,” Kairi answered truthfully and put her hands down to rest on her lap, “I kept tossing and turning for a while now, so I thought I could clear my head with some fresh air.

“Same,” Sora replied and kicked his legs up and down, “my imagination was running wild, I had to go out or I would have gone insane.”

They sat next to each other in silence, shoulders touching as they watched the sun slowly rising, bathing the sky in different colors.

“You don't have to stop, you know? It's really pretty.” When Kairi shot him a questioníng glance, Sora explained. “The glitter? Is it something Merlin taught you?”

“Oh,” Kairi's face lit up and with a small smile, she spread her arms again, opening her hands palms up and after a soft glow, the small flecks started glittering around them again.

“Yes, Merlin taught me. Apparently there was always a mage in the Castle that used their Light magic to do this for special occasions. Now I am the only known user of Light magic, so Merlin taught me. It helped me learn to focus my Light magic, too, instead of using it on instinct only.”

Sora held up his palm and caught one of the little specks in it. It started dancing and shining brightly in his hand.

“This is amazing, Kairi,”

He felt her shrug her shoulders.

“It's just a little trick, but I'd love to do it from time to time for the people. I still haven't shown anyone yet,” she turned to him and stared him down warningly, “so don't go and tell anybody!”

Sora put his thumb and pointer finger together and ran them over his lips, pretending to close a zipper. “My lips are sealed!”

“They better be!”

The two of them fell into companionable silence again and watched the sparkles together until Kairi lowered her arms and the magic ceased.

“Sora? Do you think I'll be able to show this to the other residents?”

Sora swallowed. He knew what she meant, she was confident in her skill and she had proven to him that she could call upon it at will.

She was scared that there would be no light left in the world to illuminate the darkness.

“You will be,” Sora answered confidently, “we won't let the worlds fall into Darkness. We will defeat Xehanort once and for all. We have to.”

“I wish we didn't have to!”

Sora was startled by Kairi's outbreak and threw a concerned glance at her. She had grasped the hem of her dress and held on tight enough for her knuckles to turn white.

“I wish we didn't have to fight today. I know this is what I trained for, but I don't want it. I don't want anybody to fight. I'm scared of losing you, of losing Riku, of losing any other of our new friends.”

She took a shaky breath and continued.

“I wish Xehanort would have never been so fascinated by the Darkness. I wish he would have never become a Keyblade wielder. I wish he wouldn't have brought Darkness over so many worlds, killing so many innocent people, ripping families apart. I wish we lived in a world where he didn't exist and everything is peaceful. We would live our life to the fullest and not worry about everything ending today. I wish none of this would have ever happened.”

Sora averted his eyes as guilt spread through his body.

“I guess I'm a horrible person, then.”

“What do you mean?”

Sora sighed.

“Everything you said is true. But I can't agree with you.”

He threw a scared look at her, but instead of staring at him judgmentally or even disgustedly, Kairi  took his hand in her own and squeezed lightly, urging him to continue.

“If none of this would have happened, a lot of hurt would have been avoided, I know. But at the same time, I can't wish for it. If Xehanort hadn't lead Radiant Garden into the Darkness, you would have never washed up on Destiny Islands.” He swallowed. “I know, it's selfish and you were robbed of your own family and I swear, I feel horrible about it for you. But without Xehanort, the Keyblade would have had no reason to fall into my hands and I wouldn't have been able to travel the worlds to meet you through that means. Without Xehanort, I wouldn't have met you.”

Sora looked right into Kairi's eyes that were shining with tears.

“And I don't want to imagine a reality in which you aren't a part of my life.”

When had they started sitting this close together? Suddenly, their thighs were touching and Kairi's shoulder was pressing into his chest while gravity slowly but surely pulled Sora's head down, closer and closer to Kairi's.

“Sora...”

He brushed past her nose and closed his eyes when suddenly, he felt her soft lips against his own. It was short and sweet and yet everything he could have wished for.

A little light headed Sora pulled back and opened his eyes again. Kairi was looking up at him from under her half lidded eyes, and he saw the faint blush that spread over her cheeks.

“I love you.”

Those three words flipped a switch inside of Sora and he couldn't help the low guttural sound that escaped him when he dove right back down to Kairi. To his relief, she met him with the same kind of fervor as she combed her hands into his wild hair to pull him close while his hands wrapped around her shoulders to press her body against his.

All of his senses were filled with Kairi. It was the smooth fabric of her dress that he felt beneath his fingertips as he ran his hands up and down her body, and the taste of cherry chapstick on her lips that she was so fond using.

He pulled closer still.

The fragrance of her strawberry shampoo started to fill his nose as he started to hear a tiny pant escape her lips. He eagerly swallowed it right up as his mind kept playing the same mental image: Kairi, looking up at him with a fire in her eyes as she mouthed “I love you”.

It was too much for Sora and still not enough.

But it had to be, at least for now. He knew if he didn't stop soon, there was no way he could stop at all, so he gently gently pulled back, out of her embrace, away from her warmth. His heart did a back-flip when he realized she had followed his movement to keep the lip lock going for as long as possible.

The two of them looked at each other, slightly breathless, and Sora did his best to memorize the way Kairi's eyes sparkled and her lips shined, the way her blush was strong enough to spread down to her neck and chest. He made an attempt to explain himself to her, but the smile that spread on her face said it all.

She understood wordlessly.

With a smile as wide as hers, Sora gently cupped Kairi's cheeks in his hands, goosebumps spreading over his arms as he felt her lean into his touch, and he slowly, chastely met her lips for a last sweet kiss.

A promise.

He would shower her with love once this was over, but right now, he had a mission. They had a mission, and if they succeeded, they could built any future they dreamed of together.

Kairi leaned her head against his shoulder as Sora hugged her and held her tightly. He buried his nose into her hair and took a deep breath.

“You're the light of my life.”

He heard a tiny snort and then Kairi's shoulders started to shake as she was trying to suppress her giggling. She failed tremendously.

“Seriously, Sora? Can you become more mushy?”

“I mean, it's the truth!” Sora replied with a grin, barely concealing his own chuckles, and his laughter only grew harder as Kairi shoved him off of the brick wall.

Slowly calming down, Sora stepped up to the low wall across from them and looked back at the rising sun. He felt Kairi interlace their fingertips and rest her head against his shoulder as they stared together in silence. It didn't take too long for another presence to make itself known to Sora. He turned his head to his right. Riku had shown up, a soft smile on his lips as he regarded his two life long friends. Sora returned his smile and extended his free hand towards him. Riku reached out and slipped his hand into Sora's as he came to stand beside him and joined them in watching the sun rise.

No matter what was going to happen, together, they were ready for the fight.

[lombax-lombardi]

Guardian~

Summary: The Aftermath of the fight allows for Direheart to contemplate the events. Her friend’s health, her alternate’s lives and of course one of the biggest red flags she’s ever seen.

“She’s in the lab right now so stop fretting” the sound of Leon’s drawl brought the spirit’s attention away from the glowing on her chest. 

“I am not fretting Leon” she frowned at him, he rolled his eyes. “Not fretting huh? then why have I seen you speaking to that thing on your chest for the past 3 hours?”

“You know what it means when it glows like this Leon. I do not like having to repeat myself!” If a ghost could turn red with embarrassment, Direheart could do it, the ever stoic Leon actually cracked a smile as the creaking of stairs caught their attention.

“Merlin? How’s Rii?”

“Oh she will live. That Esper...full of surprises she is” the old wizard stroked his beard, a chuckle escaping him as he took a seat, the glowing of the ruby did not cease as Direheart continued her mental link conversation with one of her alternates.

She was aware of the other presence upstairs.

She was aware, more then ever, that he felt something for her friend. It made her stomach felt unsettled, yet she could not stop...whatever it would turn into.

She never would meddle in the affairs of love.

Direheart did have the power to do so but she would never use it. Not unless she was asked.

“Now my boy...” Merlin began, Leon turned his head. “You did take Seven to the lab yes?”

“Yes I did. She is much heavier then at first glance”

Direheart narrowed her eyes. “Of course she is heavy she is a robot....I’m going to go see her” she slunk into the floor, causing Merlin to look and follow the shadow she made. “The poor girl...she herself should be resting”

“Nothing will stop her from moving, especially with all her alternates as she calls them.” Leon motioned, Aerith was listening nearby so she decided to speak up. “What Direheart needs is someone or something to soothe her heart...well what substitutes as her heart these days”

The room fell silent. Yeah that’s right, when Blackheart was destroyed...the heart she had...was Direheart’s....when she wasn’t what she was now. It...didn’t fly into the sky like most hearts did it just turned into black ooze.

“I assume the corruption that her Heartless was, made her own real heart unable to be saved” Merlin stated. “When Direheart was impaled...I feared the worst, however thanks to the ones she has met in her travels and the ones from her past managed to save her”

It was amazing really. Direheart having others who share her name, who share similarities to her and she knows them all. 

Shields them all.

“....What will we do about Vanitas?” The brunette asked, the wizard and the male stared at each other then back at Aerith. Yeah.

Him.

“I believe our ghostly friend sensed something in him. A change , however she would not divulge further information when I asked” Merlin waved his hand. “She always keeps her secrets, our Direheart” the old wizard chuckled, Leon was still leaning against the wall, pondering to himself.

It would seem Direheart was keeping more and more secrets.

......

“How is she?” the echoed voice of the spirit somewhat startled Ienzo from his work, turning in his chair to see the transparent woman before him.

“Seven? We have asked Tron for assistance in this matter but she appears to be doing fine...” he gestured to the table the robot was on, Seven looked so peaceful.

The ghost noticed the sleeping Esper beside her alternate, draped in the males lab coat . “I would advise your Tron to be careful Ienzo. Seven keeps secrets, even from me though we once shared a body”

The male raised a brow at the spirit, watching her slowly. “Ah...you’ve replaced her leg. It would have been much easier if you found her blueprints but...she keeps them deep in her memory core” the spirit shrugged her shoulders.

“....I believe you have become more quick witted after your impalement”

“Being impaled into no laughing matter. I am surprised my ruby did not shatter completely”  she said with a smirk on her face, gently grabbing her unconscious friends hand.

What are you hiding from me Seven? Is it not for me to know? You are not the only alternate to keep secrets from me. The others I can find with a simple glance but you.... she stared down at Seven’s somewhat larger fingers, inspecting the armour she wore.

The dents were gone but the chips in the paint were still present.

The ruby started to glow again, the spirit placed a few fingers against her forehead. The headaches were getting worse, she feared she may be losing control of her powers.

The whispers were louder.

Whispers of people she can want but will never have.

Because they aren’t her feelings, but the feelings that her alternates have for others.

“.....You will tell me in due time Seven.....Whatever it is you are hiding I will know...” In a haze of red mist, the spirit vanished, to another world.

Ienzo looked from the computer, noticing the slight twitch in the robots fingers. She seemed to be regaining life, slowly but surely.

Not just Direheart was a guardian to their home, but Seven, this amazing creature, was as well.

If Seven was conscious, it would humble her hearing such thoughts.