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marauderundercover · 2 years

Text

The Strings that Bind Us: Ch. 10

AO3

Walking into the Batcave, baby monitor in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other, Marinette can’t help but smile softly at the sight in front of her. Immediately after Bruce’s revelation about the DNA test, Marinette had called Dick. He’d been reluctant to swing by, he hadn’t stopped by since right after the funeral, but now it didn’t look like he had any intentions of leaving. He was practically attached to Jason’s side. And as much as Jason was griping about it, she could tell by his small smile that he was secretly pleased. She tries not to flinch at the small flash of red in his hair. It was weird seeing Tikki flying around again. But they had insisted that they needed to be out to help Jason. Apparently, there was some intense negative magic stuck to her son, and Tikki was determined to coax it out in a way that wouldn’t hurt Jason.

“Damian’s asleep in our room.” She says, shooting Bruce a small smile as she sets the cookies down in front of her boys. She ruffles Dick’s hair gently, knowing that he was still struggling with the whole ‘Jason is back’ thing.

“What’s that?” Dick asks, nodding at the baby monitor. She knew that Damian was definitely too old to actually need them to use a baby monitor, but she also didn’t want him waking up alone in a new place. Especially since they were all in the cave.

“A baby monitor, Alfred had one. I’d say I’m surprised, but knowing you boys, it’d be more surprising if he didn’t have one.” She teases, walking over and leaning against Bruce. He immediately wraps his arms around her and she sighs, content with this little bit of peace.

“Baby monitor? There something you’re not telling us, B?” Dick asks with a grin. Marinette turns to her boyfriend, raising an eyebrow at the expression on his face. Before she can ask him about it, there’s a loud beep and everyone turns to the screen. DNA match found. She feels Bruce tense beside her.

“Congrats, it’s a bouncing baby assassin.” Jason snarks, whacking Dick’s hand away as he goes to flick him. Tikki sticks their head out and looks longingly at the cookies. Rolling her eyes fondly, she moves away from Bruce to grab a cookie for her oldest friend. They scoot forward so that they can eat the cookie without dropping crumbs into Jason’s hair.

“M?” Bruce says, his voice soft and unsure. She turns, frowning at how worried and unsure he looks.

“You okay?” She asks softly, watching as the majority of his face stays blank while his eyes rush through several emotions. “Bruce.”

“Are you mad?” He asks, and she snorts before shaking her head, uncontrollable laughing at the idea. Why would she be?

“Why would I be mad? I was terrified that that woman was going to come and try to take him back. I’ve only known him for a day, but I would raise hell for that kid. He deserves the chance to be a kid, and now he can be!” She rambles, pausing as her more rational thoughts catch up with her. “Unless you think he would be safer elsewhere.” She says, hoping her face doesn’t show how much she truly hates that idea. Instead, she squeals in surprise as she’s picked up and spun around before he’s kissing her so deeply, she has to clutch his arms to keep standing. Bruce pulls back, but keeps his forehead against hers. She blinks, vaguely aware of the boys complaining in the background.

“I love you.” He says simply, no other explanation given. She smiles and kisses him softly.

“I love you too.”

---

“Marinette?” Damian says, looking up from the sketchbook he was drawing in. Marinette hums in response, not glancing up from her crocheting. She’d made blankets for the other two boys months ago, and had started on Damian’s after figuring out what colors he preferred.

“Where does Father go at night?” He asks, and she immediately stops crocheting, turning her full attention to the youngest member of the family. Sure, he was young (three and a half) but all he’d ever known was the League of Assassins. Where observation skills were just as important as weapons training. Damn that organization and its insistence of weaponizing children. They were lucky her boyfriend had a strict ‘no killing’ policy (not that she would listen to that policy if she ever saw the Joker in person).

“He has a second job.” She says, carefully. She didn’t want to lie to him, but it wasn’t up to her when he would learn about the whole ‘Batman’ thing. Sure, he already knew about the Miraculous, but that was because they’d used it for their escape. And because Plagg adored Damian and was rarely seen away from the boy. She also knew that- despite bringing Jason home when she did- Bruce was still upset about the whole ‘infiltrating the League of Assassins alone’ thing.

“Oh.” He says, frowning. Glancing at the clock, Marinette’s eyes widen at the time.

“It is way past your bedtime, Mr.” She says, setting her yarn and hook down. His frown deepens into a scowl. She was sure that one day it would be as intimidating as his father’s, but today was not that day. Instead, she had to resist the urge to coo at him.

“I’m not tired.” He declares before yawning widely. He huffs, obviously frustrated.

“But we have a big day tomorrow, minou. You want to be well rested for that, don’t you?” She asks.

“A big day?” He says, his scowl lessening as his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Marinette hums in agreement.

“Oh yes. Dick has to work, your father has some things to sort out with Jason’s legal status and Alfred has a full day as well. So I thought that you and I could go make some pastries for my bakery, and then head out to the aquarium. They have a new sea otter exhibit.” She says, smiling softly as his eyes light up. He nods.

“Very well.” He says, obviously deciding the ‘bedtime’ would be acceptable. She reaches her hand out, expecting him to hold it as she walks him to his room (their usual routine). Instead, he swats her hand away and reaches up. A motion she’d seen Manon use many times when the girl (woman now, she reminds herself; Manon had graduated University last year) was tired years ago. Her heart warms at the gesture, the extension of trust. Scooping him up in her arms gently, she hugs him close as he lays his head on her shoulder. He must’ve been more tired than he let on. She tucks him in quickly, kissing his forehead before flipping on his nightlight and leaving quietly. It would take time, but she knew Damian would heal from his time with the League. She was just thankful they got him out before his entire childhood was ruined.

---

Staring down the barrel of a gun was not exactly how she’d expected the aquarium trip to go. Sure, she should’ve expected the possibility of a Rogue attack, it was Gotham after all.

“The way I see it, we have two options.” Two Face says, a wicked grin on his face. Marinette keeps Damian behind her, hoping he won’t say or do anything to irk the villain any more than her presence had. Though she wasn’t sure why the man seemed so put out with her.

“And those are?” She asks, fighting to keep her voice steady. She should’ve been terrified, but instead she was angry. A nice day out with the youngest member of the family was all she’d wanted. But no. Of course one of the more unstable Rogues would have to show up.

“People or parts.” He says simply, making her eyes narrow as he begins to explain. “People, the coin decides if I shoot you or the boy clinging to your leg. Parts, the coin decides where I shoot you.”

“Parts.” She says without hesitation. Two Face laughs.

“What a mom thing to say. Sorry, sweetheart, we have to let the coin decide. Scarred side- people, unmarked side- parts.” He says before flipping the coin. Marinette silently hopes that luck will be on her side. She refuses to watch another one of her boys be hurt, even if she has to kill every damn goon in this room. She holds her breath as he catches the coin to reveal the unmarked side. Sighing in relief, she feels Damian tighten his grip on her leg. To an outsider he probably looked terrified, but one glance at him and she knew what he was doing. He was marking exits, trying to find a place to run. She wishes she would have made him run when the men first stormed the room.

“Unmarked side, I’ll shoot your leg and try my best to avoid the arteries. Scarred side- it’s heads.” Two Face says and Marinette bites back the urge to snap at the man. She’d heard of him before, but he hadn’t seemed quite this...unhinged. The unmarked side of the coin was typically the way out. Nothing was supposed to happen with it. But today? Today there was no way out. She watches as he tosses the coin into the air, watches as it falls into his hand. Just as he’s starting to open his hand, two figures dart into the room. Batman goes straight for Two Face, his cape streaming behind him, while Nightwing goes after the goons. Usually, Marinette would help. But not this time. This time, she scoops Damian up into her arms and rushes for a corner. Somewhere she could still see what was happening, but without the chance of someone sneaking up on them.

“I’ve got you.” She says softly, hands shaking as she hugs him tightly. She was relieved that he was letting her do this. Knowing the boy had probably been through much worse, she knew that him allowing her to hold him like this was more for her benefit than his. They sit for fifteen minutes while Batman and Nightwing secure the situation. The second the police flood the room, Batman is in front of them, his frown visible.

“Are the two of you alright?” He asks, his voice tense.

“We’re fine.” She says softly, knowing from experience how hard it is when someone you love is targeted- when you can’t do anything about it because you’re masked. She glances at Damian, frowning at the look on his face. “Minou?”

“Let’s go, Maman.” Damian insists, scowling at Batman. Her eyebrows shoot up. Maman? That was- that was new. Jason hadn’t even called her ‘mom’ again since coming back. She still had hope that he would, but...

“My apologies. Someone must be tired.” She says, giving her boyfriend a look that they’d talk about this later. Damian’s scowl lessens the farther they get away from Batman, and for a minute she thinks he must have figured out his identity. But then-

“He liked you.” Damian practically spits out. Marinette blinks in confusion until it hits her. Of course Damian was upset. Although not as good as Bruce (since he is only three), he could read body language. And apparently, her boyfriend wasn’t as unreadable in costume as he thought he was. She squeezes Damian quickly before kissing the top of his head.

“He might, but I love your father.” She gently reassures him. He frowns, but nods, accepting her answer for now.

“Can we get ice cream?” He asks, his frown melting away into a pout that he knows she can’t say no to.

“Of course we can.” She says, making a mental note to talk to Bruce about the Batman thing later. Hopefully he understood and didn’t think his youngest son secretly hated him. Pushing aside the thoughts, she readjusts Damian on her hip. Time to go get ice cream.

Tag list: @maribat-october-rarepairs @ashbrea381writings @jayjayspixiepop @toodaloo-kangaroo @galla02006 @ritacrow-blog @liquid-luck-00 @corporeal-terrestrial @crazylittlemunchkin

Permanent tag list: @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess @kking13

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

All These Scattered Gems

For Dannymay 2021 Day 4: Stars

“They can’t be real stars,” insisted Maddie, her voice tinny and static in Danny’s ear.

He paused, grimacing, and adjusted the frequency again. Something must have gotten knocked loose inside the Fenton Phones in the last fight he got into. “I didn’t say that was what they were,” he said, “I was just telling you what they look like. And they look like stars.”

Danny did tend to consider himself a bit of an expert when it came to whether or not something looked like a star. Astronomy was a special interest of his, after all.

(Despite the best efforts of both his parents and the doctors of the Far Frozen, efforts to decide whether or not he had a true, ghostly Obsession had been inconclusive. Danny was okay with that if he was being honest. Which he usually wasn’t.)

“Hm,” said Maddie. “That isn’t coming across very well in the video.”

“Mads, our video is half static that far from the portal.”

Maddie sighed. “Make sure you take pictures, sweetie.”

“I remember,” said Danny, who had forgotten. “The sky looks darker over there, too. It almost looks like real night. I wonder if someone did it on purpose?”

When Danny had first come clean to his parents about being half-ghost, he hadn’t really had any expectations that it would change his probable future. Which he had predicted to consist of a series of depressing, minimum wage jobs that he would keep losing due to ghost hunting.

His parents had something to say about that however, and although Danny had never really wanted to inherit Fentonworks or ghost hunting as a profession (ironic, he knew) he did like the exploration and science parts. Quite a bit, actually. And since he’d never be able to become an astronaut… Well. This was pretty good, too.

Especially since he was getting paid.

(All the extra equipment he had to bring with him to make forays into the Zone ‘experimentally useful’ was a bit of a drag, though. Literally, sometimes. The stuff was heavy.)

“Okay,” said Danny. “I’m going to get closer.”

The lights ahead of him really were starlike… but they were, as expected, much closer. The nearest of them stopped being pinpricks and started looking like tiny disks after just a few minutes of determined flight.

“Danny? Sweetie? You might want to slow down a little. Those speeds are rough on our sensors.”

Danny sighed, but complied.

Ghost cores were weird. Really weird. At least part of the weirdness was that, most of the time, they didn’t exist in either the Ghost Zone or ‘normal’ reality, but instead were tucked away in private self-generated pocket dimensions.

Ghost bodies were formed around the entrances to those pocket dimensions and would shift to accommodate the core that generated them, but usually didn’t actually house the core. It was a safety thing, and the reason ghosts could have their entire body destroyed only to pop up a few days later, perfectly fine.

Danny’s parents had been studying the phenomenon off and on, trying to compare it to ghostly lairs, which were also pocket dimensions. Or universes. The distinction was unclear. They’d been having trouble collecting data, however, as most ghosts would not blithely give such intimate information to ghost hunters, no matter how reformed they claimed to be.

After all, ghost cores were the equivalent of a ghost’s brain. One might even say their soul.

Danny was getting off track.

All this to say that Danny really should not have been able to physically feel his core.

He braked, ‘skidding’ to a stop.

“Danny?” said Maddie, sounding concerned. “Are you alright? Our instruments picked up a power spike…”

“I’m fine,” said Danny, pressing his fingers to his chest. Whatever he had felt was gone. “Just… a weird feeling.” He looked back up at the ‘stars.’ Some of them looked like little coins, now.

“How weird?”

“Like, I could have imagined it,” said Danny. “Timing is a bit strange, though, with that power surge. This might be a ‘Fisher Kingdom’ area.”

Some places in the Ghost Zone had such a strong feeling about how things should be that anyone or anything entering them was altered to fit. Some were generated by an actual ghost, but usually those ghosts just had very specific ideas about death and ghosts that didn’t quite mesh with the Zone at large. A few gave the impression that they had been carefully constructed and then more or less abandoned. Others didn’t seem to have any intelligence behind their existence, were random, almost natural.

Generally, the effects of Fisher Kingdoms were strictly physical, the average ghost’s core being safe in its aforementioned pocket, but even with that limitation, Fisher Kingdoms could be… difficult. Dangerous.

But they were also interesting. And Danny didn’t mind. He had the Ultimate Cheat Code when it came to dealing with Fisher Kingdoms. He could just turn human and float away. No problem. (In theory, anyway. In practice… Sometimes it was more complicated than that.)

“Alright,” said Maddie. “If you feel safe doing so, keep up your approach, but slowly. We want to monitor your vitals.”

Danny kept going, if at a greatly reduced pace.

His core pulsed again, and he stopped, hissing. This time, the sensation didn’t go away.

“Danny?”

“I’m okay,” he said. “I just…” He took a deep breath, feeling icy pressure on his lungs. “Oh, that’s weird.”

“What happened? Are you safe?”

“I think so. I think… I think this turned off my, uh, pocket dimension thing. You know, what my core goes in.” He blinked at his feet and the tips of his fingers, which were wisping away. The glow around his chest was bright and was becoming brighter. Something started beeping in his ear.

“Danny,” said Maddie, sounding alarmed. “That’s the stability alarm. Your numbers are dropping rapidly.”

Danny looked up, back at the not-stars. “I think I know what they are, now,” he said.

“What? Danny, you have to get out of there. Whatever is happening is seriously disrupting your ability to maintain your form.”

Danny brought his hand to touch the surface of his chest, which rippled as if made of water. The surface of his suit had started showing cracks. Even so, Danny was frozen in place by a thought:

Would it be so bad, to become a star?

His rings shuddered into life around him, forcibly and painfully returning him to human form. His heart stuttered at the ball of utter cold pressed against it. Every breath he took burned.

He cursed under his breath and followed his mother’s instructions, floating away from the field of false stars as quickly as he could. Despite how his core seemed to want to pull him back.

Eventually, the pull lessened.

“I guess,” said Danny, with extreme regret, “we should put that on the list of places I shouldn’t go.”

“Already there, kiddo,” said Jack.

“Come straight back,” said Maddie. “We need to give you a check, make sure there are no lasting effects.”

“Alright,” said Danny. “I’m on my way.”

Being a star… A shining beacon in the night…

It wouldn’t have been all that great, anyway, he was sure.

(He could settle for just chasing after them.)

#danny phantom #dannymay 2021 #dannymay #dannymay 2021 day 4: stars

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morifinwes · 3 years

Note

Lauraa I finished all the fics, apart from decay (currently reading that now) and I love it sm! Especially the lip gloss one lmao the whole thing was so hilarious to me XD but also like the concept of lwj wearing lipgloss is >>> -yibobibo

@yibobibo then i'm going to rec you some more!! the lip gloss one was !!!!! ajsksks yes!! lwj wearing lipgloss is just so!! good!!

modern

this one is the painful one i talked about:

visitations by var_abelasan (12K, wip, divorced wangxian, post divorce, most of this is angst, uhm lowkey don't but also do want wangxian to end up together, it's messy, the jiangs & lans are shitty, wwx was in prison (brief mentions of that but it's kind of a major plot point), mxy & xy are the little brothers he never wanted but wwx picked them up anyways)

"Wei Ying-" Lan Zhan says, stutters, "I'm sorry."

And now Wei Wuxian sees it, the red rimming Lan Zhan's eyes, the rumpled edges of his blazer. There is an old, familiar urge for him to reach over, to hold Lan Zhan's hand and smooth his hair, to tell him that everything will be fine.

"We're all a bit sorry about this, I think," he says instead, and finds that he means it. For Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and everyone else in that Guanyin temple, the pain must be unbearably fresh, like skin just flayed open. But Wei Wuxian's chest had been cracked open a long time ago, his wounds licked and cauterized and sewn shut over five long years - Ever hurting, but a dull, constant ache, "It's really alright, Lan Zhan."

Five years after being accused of corporate espionage and losing everything, the Guanyin Scandal breaks open and Wei Wuxian finds a familiar face at his door.

please don't let me be misunderstood by sysrae (3K, partly deaf!wwx, lwj notices, nobody else does though, idk wwx is like made out of fucking steel or some shit)

Lan Wangji has known Wei Ying for a fortnight, the first time he sees him get hit by a car.

light by redkosmos (10K, blind!lwj, which causes angst, but they manage it, best friends to lovers, fluff, lwj being insecure and feeling like a burden, college au kind of? but it doesn't matter too much)

The realization slowly dawns on him.

He can never again see the brightness of Wei Ying's eyes, the way they crescent when he smiles, never again see the rich black of his hair, the mess of it in the early mornings, never again see the beautiful tan of his skin, the beauty of the scars and marks adorned on it, how he wears his clothes, how it hugs his frame beautifully, how he looks like he's adorably swimming in cloth when he wears Lan Zhan's, and-

(Lan Zhan loses his vision in a car accident and learns to cope with it.)

don't leave me by trippinonskies (19K, brief very brief mention of lwj cheating, he doesn't but wwx is afraid lwj is cheating on him or just wants to break up with him, (he doesn't), marriage proposal, lwj acting distant = wwx's insecurities show up, fluff, angst and comfort)

Lan Zhan! Where are you lost today?” Wei Wuxian finally asks, at the end of his patience.

Lan Zhan looks a little guilty as he looks at Wei Wuxian, “Sorry, just a lot of work to deal with.”

Lie.

If there is one thing Lan Zhan can’t do, it’s lying. Especially to Wei Wuxian. But he doesn’t question Lan Zhan. He just accepts the reply, too scared to know that he is right. Too scared to know the truth.

// or where Lan Zhan is too hung up in planning the perfect proposal and ends up accidently ignoring Wei Wuxian making the other think that he wants to break up //

want you closer by xiaobucephalus ((3K, HORSES, only in the background tho, but wwx is an equestrian vet, which is so fucking valid bro, the lans own horses, a sick bunny, lwj the bunny parent!, super cute, dark bay throughoutbred chenqing is honestly so valid)

“Thank you,” Lan Zhan said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Don’t thank me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughed again, his voice warming the chill of fear that had settled in his chest. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to get into your hutch for a while anyway.”

safe in your thoughts by anonymous (20K, it's a cherry magic au???? (i haven't watched it, but you have i think?), horny lwj but only for wwx (always for wwx))

Wei Wuxian learns three very important things on the night of his twenty-seventh birthday.

One, that Lan Wangji is ridiculously funny, which Wei Wuxian had known before but what Wei Wuxain hadn’t expected was Lan Wangji to be funny at his brother’s expense.

Two, that Wei Wuxian had finally gone mad, absolutely mental at the ripe age of twenty seven because nothing else would explain the third thing he had learnt.

Third, and the most unbelievable of the lot, that Lan Wangji wants to fuck him.

iura by yoo_im_finally_writing (1K, only added bcs op is right and wwx would've the cutest german accent, it's more fun if you understand german so hit me up if you want translations for the german sentences)

Wei Ying calls in the middle of the night to talk about German law, and Lan Zhan tries very hard not to fall asleep. Or at least, not to let Wei Ying notice he's falling asleep. (As best friends do.)

breathe in the air, the last of its kind by wereworm / @neverdoingmuch (27K, getting together, jealous!lwj, but also kind of supportive, brief mention of cheating bcs of miscommunication, no actual cheating tho, college au, lwj pov)

Following Wei Ying’s line of sight, Lan Wangji can barely prevent a smile from crossing his lips when he sees the short row of rabbit statuettes placed at the front of the display. Silver, with bright gems for eyes, they look elegant yet lively and animated.

“A-Yuan would love one of those,” Wei Ying murmurs, almost as if to himself.

Lan Wangji frowns; the rabbits, while cute, don’t seem like a suitable gift for Wei Ying’s A-Yuan.

...

It’s only when he glances back at the rabbits and notices what has been placed on display behind them, that the pieces fall into place. They’re engagement rings, there’s no doubt about it. Lan Wangji feels his heart sink – Wei Ying isn’t just dating A-Yuan, he wants to propose to him.

Or: the five times Lan Wangji thinks that A-Yuan is Wei Ying’s boyfriend and the one time he learns the truth.

paint smears on sunny days by snowshadowao3 / @angstsexual (53K, getting together, art teacher!wwx, single parent!lwj, they're rich if i remember right, wwx & lwj are both good with kids!!!, this is so good actually, fluff)

To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

He comes close, though.

By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.

(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

no bunny compares by gusucloudbunny (4K, god this is cute, fluff)

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cornered his friend one week before his birthday. “If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

Lan Wangji furrowed his brow at Wei Wuxian, not exactly sure how to answer that question in a truthful manner that didn’t involve confessing his undying love for his best friend.

Wei Wuxian is on a mission to get Lan Wangji the perfect gift for his birthday. What Wei Wuxian doesn't know is that the only thing Lan Wangji truly wants is him.

wei wuxian's week of realizing things by photojenny (12K, i have read this multiple times, i always forget what happens, idk why but my notes say it's good, the tags say drunkji makes an appearance and i'm always up for that)

"Lan Zhan, do you like Mianmian?" asked Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji blinked, and stared. It was not the first time Lan Wangji had questioned the perceptiveness of the boy he had a crush on. Wei Wuxian had been smart in the class they had taken together. Yet time and time again, Wei Wuxian had tested the old wisdom that there are no stupid questions.

---

Lan Wangji must figure out how to confess when Wei Wuxian is the most oblivious person he's ever met.

are you my wisdom tooth? because i'd like to take you out by yellowcarnations (1K, crack, fluff, lwj stop flirting with a stranger, even if he is your husband, drunkji but make it to max level)

Lan Zhan wakes up and he has no idea where he is.

There are bright lights and his jaw hurts, he doesn't who this man next to his bed is but oh he might be in love, maybe, probably, definitely.

–

based off that guy-forgets-who-his-wife-is-and-hits-on-her vid but its wangxian.

beep! goes his heart by wearing_tearing (3K, fluff, lwj is like "he, he likes me right? he likes me" and everyone is like "yes, yes he does")

“Wei Ying’s heart monitor,” Lan Wangji starts.

Wen Qing blinks at him. “Yes?”

“It beeps.”

“That’s… what they generally do, yes.”

“The beeps change,” Lan Wangji continues, “when others are around.”

Wei Ying’s heart only sings for Lan Wangji.

canon

obedient and bellicose by thunderwear (19K, lwj is cursed by the lan elders, they notice too late, fix-it fic kind of?, lqr being a good uncle and lxc is a good brother, wwx accidentally uses the curse but he doesn't know about it)

It took Lan Wangji a long time to realize he was cursed. Too long really, anyone else would have noticed so much sooner. The problem was, he liked following the rules.

Ella Enchanted AU that no one needed but I wanted.

hello my old heart, how have you been? by ravenditefairylights (10K, amnesia, fluff, wwx taking care of lwj, so much fluff and softness, angst too but not that much)

The issue is, Lan Wangji brings his thoughts back before they stray too far, that it is impossible for someone to be in his bed, unless Lan Wangji himself invited them. He has not. He would remember doing so, and besides, all his night clothes are still on and there is no headache to imply that he was inebriated last night. No, the situation is simple.

There is someone in Lan Wangji’s bed. It is impossible for anyone to be in Lan Wangji’s bed, and yet that doesn’t seem to have stopped the stranger.

or lan wangji wakes up, and wei ying is there. he doesn't understand how or why, and he can understand even less why his hallucination of wei ying is so insistent on bathing him, and braiding his hair, on holding him and fixing his clothes. why the hallucination of wei ying seems so happy to see him.

teach me the way by likeafox (58K, rogue cultivator!wwx, horny wangxian, lwj wants wwx to teach him how to be a good lover, ....wwx is a virgin, the porn is the plot, but there's less of it than i thought)

"I do not wish to leave my future spouse… dissatisfied with my intimate knowledge,” Lan Zhan says, very seriously. “I am hoping to find an instructor, to better prepare myself for such matters."

Wei Ying feels his mouth drop open. He's pretty sure the Second Jade of Lan just told him he's a virgin who wants to learn how to do sex good.

Rogue Cultivator Wei Wuxian is the stuff of local legends. Some of those legends are even true! The ones about his tremendous experience in bed, on the other hand, are not so true. Which becomes a problem when Lan Wangji, on the verge of an arranged marriage and worried he won’t know how to please his future spouse, enlists Wei Ying's help to teach him the art of love-making. Wei Ying's great at improvisation, though, and is pretty sure he's got this sex mentor thing under control. What could possibly go wrong

other aus

of god: my love unholy by tunnelodfawn (3K, tw blood / war, dark!lwj, god!wwx, kind of poetry)

Lan Zhan takes everything as a sign from his god. The blood staining his fingertips—a holy anointment. He sanctifies himself through blood. The strings of his guqin gleam red in the sun—a divine blessing. This is an instrument of destruction. A single note—a cry of power—and in this note the voice of his god unravels the earthly threads tethering man to earth.

The Yiling Patriarch blesses Lan Zhan with war. Wei Wuxian blesses Lan Zhan with agility. Wei Ying blesses Lan Zhan with love.

The base of the Yiling Patriarch’s shrine is the home of Lan Zhan’s knees. He worships. There is something of the blasphemous and the unholy in his prayers. He prays not for victory but for the sight of Wei Ying. Bless me with your presence, he begs.

Or, wherein, Lan Zhan bridges the gap between the mortal and the divine—the worshipper and the god—with blood.

the river and the sea by sasamelons / @sasamelons (7K, soulmate au, arranged marriage (wangxian with each other), they're both kind of dumb but i love it)

Lan Wangji gritted his teeth, wishing to just be left alone. "I am looking for my soulmate," he ground out.

"Oh."

It took Lan Wangji a few moments to realize that Wei Wuxian had stopped following him. When he looked back, the other boy seemed to be frozen to the spot, eyes wide and lips still parted. He quickly looked away when he saw Lan Wangji looking back. "I see. Well, have a good trip!"

At six years old, Lan Zhan met his soulmate on the streets of Yiling and promptly lost him again.

At sixteen years old, Lan Wangji met his betrothed and was determined not to like him.

#so...i realized i forgot to check the things i already listed but? i tried to avoid listing fics twice?#yes i've mostly been reading oneshots these past few weeks idk why but i can't seem to find any long fics #or at least not ones that i like #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #wangxian fics #mdzs #mdzs fic #cql fic #the untamed #aamna tag #we're almost through the rec list now? i have so much open but idk why i add so few #i'm just really picky when it comes to which ones to write down and which ones not #and then this became a kind of comfort list?#idk?#but also ANGST #not Angst but ANGST #fun fact: Angst means fear in german

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Note

Can you like,write a crack for the AIB cast?? Or maybe: Shuntaro,Dori,and Tao are all busy with their work. Leaving their dogs lonely without any attention(Merry,Misao, and fanta) so they all thought that it's great to leave their dogs with Nijiro/dog-sitting by Nijiro. And now it's all up to you on what Nijiro is going to do with the dogs before their owners come home,which he would struggle cause he doesn't know how to take care of dogs and just read a book that is titled: "how to take care of dogs 101"

Doggy Daycare

Characters: Murakami Nijiro, Sakurada Dori, Tsuchiya Tao (Briefly), and Yanagi Shuntaro (Also briefly)

Genre: Fluff. Nijiro dog sitting the doggy trio. :D

2.2k words

A non AIB fic, how fancy of me. I hope I did it justice. And correctly placed the dogs genders solely on their name. Sakurada really did just dump three dogs on the child and dipped-

There was a knock at his door. Strange, seeing as he wasn’t expecting visitors. Nijiro gets up from his couch and heads towards the door, peeking through the electronic monitor that showed whom was outside his door.

He smiles a little as he sees a familiar face, one that he saw a few months ago from set and on occasional events afterwards, Nijiro opening the door to Dori Sakurada’s smiling face. Besides him was his dog, Fanta politely sitting down on the ground.

“ Hi! Did you need something?” Nijiro asks, Dori nodding with a bit of a nervous smile.

“ Yes! I hope I wasn’t interrupting you, but can I ask you a small favour, please?” Sakurada continues to nervously smile, fidgeting a little, Nijiro nodding. He offers Sakurada to take a seat, but he declines, glancing away. “ No, I need to go soon, I have a shoot to attend in a little bit. I was hoping if you could watch over Fanta, Merry, and Misao for a little bit? Tsuchiya and Yanagi didn’t want to leave their dogs at home either, and thought they might use some company!” Nijiro smiles, internally very confused and hoping a little that he didn’t have to take care of a close friend’s dog, let alone three, but he had to at least be respectful. He bows a little to Sakurada. “ I’ll try my best!”

Ah, why did he say that. He internally cringes and looks up, but Sakurada’s relieved face made him feel a little obligated now, and Sakurada thanks him profusely before gently ushering Fanta into the home of Nijiro, Fanta happily trotting himself inside. Not long after, two more dogs come in, one a small white pooch and the other a darker brown dog than Fanta was, and much more curlier.

“ Thanks again Murakami! I’ll make it up to you later, I promise!” Dori yells as he quickly leaves, Nijiro waving him goodbye until he was well out of sight. He sighs and shuts the door, turning around to stare at the three new additions he suddenly obtained.

“ Oh boy. Uhhh- Hi-“ Nijiro starts, Fanta casually padding around the place. Merry was already gone, Misao already trying to climb up furniture. It’s gonna be a long day. Nijiro comes over to the small poodle and scoops her up, Misao yipping in surprise and wriggling. He doesn’t hold her for long as he sits back down on the couch, Misao now on his lap. She seemed comfortable there, resting her body upon his legs as he scans the room for the other two dogs. Fanta was still idly investigating, sniffing at the odd thing or two but otherwise not causing any trouble. Merry was a different story, the dog completely disappeared from sight. It was actually a little concerning how fast the dog actually disappeared, Nijiro frowning a little.

“ Merry? Merry, where did you go-“ Nijiro calls out, and lo and behold Merry comes out from the hall, carrying a small bottle of shampoo. Nijiro blinks, Merry happily dropping the bottle at his feet, tail wagging. Nijiro picks it up, Merry barking and spinning once before settling her sights on the bottle.

“ What is it? Do… do you want me to throw this? This isn’t a toy-“ Nijiro lightly shakes the bottle, but apparently that simply grabs the attention of Misao, the other dog yipping in excitement and trying (and failing) to grab the bottle in her tiny mouth. Nijiro holds the bottle even higher, a little relieved that both dogs were much too small to really topple him or reach the bottle.

Still, he doesn’t know how Dori or even the others expected him to take for of three dogs when he doesn’t even live with one. He didn’t even have any dog food for them. Now that he thought about it…. did the dogs have a schedule to eat? He’d assume so. Maybe they ate about the same as most people began to eat.

The longer he thought about it, the more he realized he doesn’t know how to properly dogsit these dogs. He couldn’t disappoint Sakurada, even if he was a nice dude. He stands up, Misao hopping off his lap with a short confused yelp as the man heads to his room to search it up.

The dogs all follow him, by the way, Nijiro finding that out as he sat at his desk and heard soft tapping behind him, as well as one warm body bumping up against his leg. It was followed by a bark, Nijiro looking down to see Merry staring at him, and then stepping all over his feet and then off again. A bit more to his left was Fanta, who was at least laying down and not causing much of a fuss unlike Merry looking around the underside of his desk like a little mole. Misao was behind him, the sound of her little paws tapping against the ground audible. He sighs, and logs in, opening up a tab to search up how to take care of a dog.

Like a normal person, he simply just types in ‘ how to take care of dog’ and hits enter, the internet pulling up sites that held gold mines of information, Nijiro clicking the first link.

Time to become a good dog uncle.

The dogs, meanwhile, all at least mind their own business, each one minding Nijiro being busy and mostly content with playing with each other instead, chasing each other and playfully wrestling, light yips and growls thrown around. Occasionally they would seek Nijiro’s attention, Nijiro reaching down to give them a hearty little head pat before delving back into his research in how to care for the dogs.

It was near lunch when he deemed himself at least mildly capable of watching three little dogs without many dog supplies anyone would expect to need. He gets up after logging off, and looks down at the dogs still there, Fanta barking at him and demanding pats. Nijiro bends down and pets the one dog, which summons the other two like ghosts, Nijiro petting the others as well. Fanta even rolled over for belly paps, Nijiro smiling a little.

“ Let’s get you some food, all of you.” He gets up and leaves, his little puppy parade right behind him. Nijiro gets to the kitchen and rummages around until he finds something: A can of sausages. He takes it out, the dogs getting louder and barking in excitement. Nijiro whips around and lightly glares at them, hushing the dogs. It was like magic, the three quieting down almost instantly, save from one light bark from Misao. He turns back around and peels open the can, and there sound of tails swooping across the ground make him laugh a little. He dumps the sausages onto a plate and pops it into the microwave for a little bit to heat up, turning back to the dogs.

He was greeted with a rather cute scene, the three dogs sitting down and staring up at him with their combined puppy eyes. They were patiently waiting for their food, Misao’s tongue even out as the tiny dog panted. It was really cute, Nijiro smiling a little bigger.

“ Just a bit longer, okay?” Nijiro promises them, and they all visibly get a little more excited about the prospects of mealtime. The microwave beeps, and the dogs get set off again, barking and going wild for sausages they barely even had. It was loud, Nijiro having so shush them once more before taking the sausage out of the microwave. He checks to make sure they weren’t too hot before setting the dish on the ground. He could wash it later, so he wasn’t that grossed as the three dogs went ham on the sausages, nomming away on the sole plate housing their meaty meal.

He figured they needed water just like every other living being, so he grabs a bowl to fill. He was nearly about to grab a cup, but then he realized that giving a cup to a dog, let alone three, was a really bad plan.

So bowl it was. He kind of forgot about the fact that he had three dogs with him, so he places the small bowl of water on the ground, only for said bowl to get knocked over by both Misao and Merry trying to get a drink and toppling it over, spilling water everywhere.

“ Hey! Bad dogs!” Nijiro scolds, the dogs whining and scampering away. Even Fanta made a noise of trouble, despite having not even touched the bowl once. Nijiro huffs and goes to grab a towel, kneeling down to wipe away the water. He softens the moment he sees Merry and Misao look at him with this dark puppy eyes, Nijiro sighing and holding his arms out. “ Okay, okay, I’m sorry I got mad. Here, make up hug?” The dogs bark, all eager for attention, all wobbling their little selves into his arms, Nijiro laughing a little as their tongues all brush up against him in happiness.

“ Ah! I’m under attack!” He yelps with a grin, falling backwards as three dogs all bombard him, licking and wiggling in happiness. They only get off after they get their fill, which to Nijiro felt like forever, the man sitting up and wiping away dog saliva off him. He’ll need to wipe it down, but right now he still needed to water the dogs.

This time with a bigger bowl.

He fills a new bowl with water, this one much more bigger and more suitable. Nijiro sets it down, and Merry and Misao have a go at it again, now no longer fighting as badly and getting their slurps in. Even Fanta comes for a drink, the three dogs content with sharing amongst each other. Nijiro took the time to clean himself from where the dogs got him, humming to himself a random tune.

The dogs all finish, and that only gets them ready for play time, as the dogs surround him like some off-brand dog cult, pawing and jumping at his legs. Nijiro tried to push them off and keep all four paws on the ground, but to no avail, even as he picks up the empty food plate and drops it in the sink, quickly rinsing it down to get rid of the fresh germs before he’d ever get to it later to clean properly. The dogs continued to whine until Nijiro got back to the living room area and sat down on the ground, the dogs now vying for a spot in the spot on his lap, excited to be with him. He was getting a tad overwhelmed, but he didn’t mind the little hint of warmth that overcame his heart as three bundles of affection tried to give it to him. He lays back, the dogs all trampling over him and happily finding their spot on top before settling, happy now to just lay on him despite all the hullabaloo to play.

He chuckles as they get comfortable, Nijiro moving his hand up to pet the dogs in an equal measure. He’d feel a little bad otherwise if he ignored one over the other.

The man didn’t even know how long he even laid there, but soon enough there is another knock at his door, alerting all the dogs into rushing up to the front door out of curiosity of who was behind said door. Nijiro was the last to get up, and he shuffles to the door, the sun in a much lower position than he remembered, Nijiro blinking in confusion as Sakurada smiles at him, Fanta eagerly coming up to his owner and pawing at his pant leg.

“ Ah, thank you for watching over them for a bit Murakami! They weren’t too much for you, were they?” Sakurada bends down to pet his dog, Fanta barking happily with tail wagging. Nijiro merely smiles, waving it off. Merry and Misao run out as well, past Sakurada and to two figures standing by the car towards the streets, Nijiro recognizing them as Yanagi and Tsuchiya, their dogs obviously excited to see them.

Sakurada straightens back to his full height, only leaving Nijiro to have to look upwards to keep eye contact, Sakurada smiling at him. “ Thanks so much, I swear I’ll pay you back for this, okay? Maybe a really nice bottle of strawberry milk!” “ Yeah yeah, whatever. Just…. maybe next time could we do this at your house? Suddenly dropping them off here didn’t give me much options-" “ Brilliant idea! Hey, maybe you can be our friendly dog sitter when we can’t leave a hire for it? Our dogs obviously seem to like your company!" “ Well, maybe not everyday, but sounds like a nice idea.” Nijiro tells him. To be perfectly honest, he was still a little unsure, but the dogs were fairly simple, so maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to continue, right? Right.

Sakurada smiles and nods in confirmation. Nijiro waves as Sakurada leaves his front door and comes back to the other two, both of which give Nijiro a brief wave and nod of acknowledgement before they, along with their dogs, all hop into the car and nyoom off.

Nijiro shuts his door, leaning against it with a sigh. “ Good golly is watching over dogs that much? I thought I’d be buried!”

#not alice in borderland #sakurada dori #murakami nijiro #yanagi shuntaro #tsuchiya tao #at least their dogs behave #even if they do want to play fetch with shampoo #nijiro has no idea what he's doing he's just existing in the same zone as them #ask

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inscribed-in-asteroids · 3 years

Text

AN: WHAT’S UP? Got chapter five ready to go! More info is always on AO3, as well as better formatting.

Title: The Ripple Effect

Characters: Odessa and OCs, feat Entrapta and Hordak

Pairing: Entrapdak

Read on AO3.

Inicos

LINEAGE LOG: DAY 1

Today marks the start of our journey! I have brought the essentials for potential excavation of bodies or relics, as well as the brain from the Prime clone aboard the Velvet Glove. It may be needed to see if there are differences in the formation, even if they’re genetically similar. But, admittedly, it’s more to keep it someplace out of the way. I am not sure what we may uncover, but this is bound to be illuminating.

LINEAGE LOG: DAY 7

I’ve been informed by my father that Mermista was none too pleased to hear that Tristan had come along on this expedition. He and my mother assured her that he was perfectly safe. Seahawk made the error of agreeing with them, however, which led to Tristan having a long, long argument with his mother over it. I don’t find any problem in him wanting to explore space, but not every parent is the same. I suppose she merely wants to look after him. But if she really wanted to, a week is a significant amount of time before deciding to check if he was at his father’s.

LINEAGE LOG: DAY 36

There hasn’t been much occurring outside of the ship. As we have been supplied with enough rations and crystals to charge Celeste, we have no need to dock onto any planet to replenish. However, Hydrangea asked if we could stop on occasion to see some planets. I told her that she could ask me any time if she felt a desire to explore nearby galaxies. We have opted to land on— Whoafuckshit! Asteroids… Oh! Maybe I can document it as it happens—

Annnnnd one made a large dent. Never mind. Guess we’re landing for sure.

LINEAGE LOG: DAY 273

I contacted my parents earlier today. They asked how everyone was faring, and I informed them that it’s been rather standard. No fits of madness or lucidity. My mother sighed with disappointment, but I told her that if it changed, she’d be the first to know. My father told me that Adora wishes me well, again. She’s a sweet woman—has been since my infancy. How she got four terrors for children, I’ll never understand. Well, that’s from Catra, but that’s neither here nor there. She and my father share equal blame for the damage to Etheria, and she has made an effort to right her wrongs. Yet she’s more… forgiven is not the proper word. Perhaps, excused? I don’t resent her for this. It’s easier to blame what continues to be unfamiliar. However, it’s an interesting observation, isn’t it?

Time in space is a bizarre thing. It ceases to be linear. It curves. Warps. Molds around one’s cells—living, breathing matter and energy, and it performs relative to that.

Odessa feels like it’s no time at all to be traveling through space with her friends.

But she was used to this since she was born. Tristan and Hydrangea experienced a little bit of an odd hiccup when it came to living without the concept of time as it was on Etheria. Hydrangea took to meditating quite often to keep a semblance of consistency, while Tristan took to exercising in an unorthodox training room. Hordak was thorough in ensuring that physical prowess was kept up while traveling through space, so it was one of the first things she pointed out.

Tristan could sleep as often as he wanted, and he never put up a fuss, but Hydrangea became rather irritable when she realized the lack of sunlight meant her circadian rhythm would be thrown off. Odessa decided to create a fake sun in Hydrangea’s sleep quarters that gave the feeling of waking up to gentle sunlight, replacing the atomic clock with one marked by Etherian time. It helped a bit for her to feel normal, and, she knew, Hydrangea was missing her parents.

“It’s too late to take you back,” Odessa said during breakfast. “But I hope you’re not disappointed with the direction of this mission so far.”

Hydrangea smiled gently, brushing haggard feelings aside, “Don’t worry. I’ll eventually get used to it. You know I’m here for you!”

Odessa is glad to have company that didn’t mind a little change. She and her family revel in constant traveling, but it can be hard for people who don’t go through it as much.

Walking through the halls, Odessa knocks on Tristan’s door, “Hey, are you up?”

A tired groan reaches her ears.

“When you’re ready, come to the dining hall. We should go over some things.”

A grunt of understanding is given, so Odessa takes her leave. She can’t help but shake her hands in excitement, tempted to skip down the hall.

She looks down at her communicator when it beeps. Turning it on, she answers, “Hey, Mom!”

“Hi, cupcake! How are you?”

“Doing fine. We’ve been making good time. We should be arriving soon.”

Hordak pops into view, “Are all your vitals still in excellent condition?”

“Yes, I’ve been monitoring all of us.”

“Good work, Odessa,” he praises.

“You know me, I’m not into screwing around,” Odessa replies, tossing her hair.

Entrapta grins wide, “We know you’re not, my little brownie bite!”

“Yeesh, Mom,” Odessa says, blushing, though she can’t help but smile.

“Okay, honey, we’ll let you go,” Entrapta tells her. “Tell your friends we said hi! Message us when you’re set!”

“You bet,” she tells them, giving a thumbs up.

“Byyyyeee!” Entrapta sing-songs, as Hordak waves.

“Byyyyeee!” Odessa mimics, waving back.

With a beep, the communicator goes quiet. She wants this mission to come to fruition. Odessa knows their journey has just barely begun—it has so much potential for failure as much as it does for success. If she could find enough information about her people, she might be able to learn more about them as a species. It’s a longshot, but she needs to make an attempt.

She is relieved that her father hasn’t asked her anything deeper than the common query of wellness. He is attentive to health above all else. And she wants to know if that’s intrinsic to their nature, or if it has to do with his… former debilitation. It has to be on some level, or it could be due to personality. If she could learn the true ways of their race, she might be able to find out how to give them their best opportunity to live.

Her hair wraps around her recorder, bringing it to her face. She clicks it on:

LINEAGE LOG: DAY 550

It’s been a long time since we left Etheria, but we’re finally near our destination! I have informed my uncle, Kreed, of our imminent arrival. He told me that everything has long been prepared for us, and he’s looking forward to seeing me again. I’ve been jotting down, as you know, what I hope to ask and, perhaps, what he may answer.

Odessa turns when she hears footfalls. Clicking off her recorder, she looks up at her friend, “Hi, sleepyhead! I didn’t think you’d ever get up.”

Yawning, Tristan stretches toward the ceiling, fingers spreading out. “Hey, the universe doesn’t chastise the well-rested. Were those your parents?”

“Yes, they say hello.”

“Aw, I would’ve liked to say hi back,” Tristan says.

“Should’ve woken up sooner,” Odessa teases. She pats his arm. “But we’re not too far from Inicos—so you’ll be talking to them eventually again.”

“How far?”

“About several hours,” she explains. “It has changed a little since I’ve been there, so I’m excited how it looks now!”

Tristan gives another stretch of his arms, swiping them up then down as he yawns once more. Trying to get something to pop. “Glad we’ll be landing soon. I know it’s been a while, but I worry about Gea going a little stir-crazy again.”

“I adjusted everything in her room, but I don’t disagree,” Odessa admits. “Although, she’s been fine since then and she hasn’t come to me for it.”

Tristan shrugs, not bothering to say he thinks otherwise. Odessa understands the needs for physical accommodation, but Hydrangea’s emotional and spiritual needs are depleted in the never-ending darkness of space. Hydrangea always acts like she’s put together, and much of the time it’s true; but she refrains from voicing her negative opinions when she’s trying to be a team-player.

Hydrangea is already in the dining hall when they arrived, drinking tea. She smiles at them, “Hey, you two!”

“Hey,” Tristan says. “How are you holding up?”

“Fine, why?” she asks.

“No reason,” Tristan replies. Best not to pursue the issue. If she’s faking ease, let her.

Hydrangea simply smiles at him, appreciating the question. She turns to Odessa, “So, what’s the plan?”

“The plan is that we’re going to be entering Inicos’ orbit in the next few hours, that’s our plan!”

Hydrangea claps her hands, “How exciting!”

Tristan shakes his head, putting a hand over his face, “It just occurred to me you could’ve woken me up when we’re closer.”

Odessa pulls him to her side, giving him a light shake, “I’m pumped! Aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Tristan says, rolling his eyes and smiling. “But that can’t be it, right?”

“No,” she replies, releasing him to look between her friends. “Celeste has lasted this long on fuel, but when we land, we’re going to have to use signals to find where they are, and wait for them to get us.”

“Why?”

Odessa’s grin widens, thrilled.

Water stretches far out beyond their sight. A dark, vast blue that envelops the entire planet. Celeste skims the top, spraying brilliant white foam against its shining surface. Slowly, Odessa commands the ship to lower until it has settled onto the ocean.

Hydrangea stares out the window. The sunlight from above is a welcome vision. Pressing up against the window, her claws clicking gently on the glass, she takes it all in. Turning to Tristan, she says, “You should feel right at home here.”

“Eh, you see one ocean, you’ve seen them all,” Tristan shrugs, inspecting his fingernails.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss this one,” Odessa tells him. She touches her communicator, and the screen begins to beep. Within minutes, they watch water churning away from them, the waves causing the ship to move in rhythm with the slight push. Breaking the surface is a large glass dome, rising high in the air. Celeste bobs back and forth, and the distant hemisphere reveals equally tall buildings within its spacious grounds, supplanted deep within mortar and bedrock.

Tristan and Hydrangea gape up. Tristan laughs in disbelief, “Okay, well, you never mentioned this.”

Odessa smiles, “And ruin the fun if you ever came here with me?”

Beneath the glass is the foundation of metal, holding it aloft; from which, a slab slides away from the bottom of the dome. From this opening, a bridge elongates towards them. Odessa steadies Celeste as the spaceship is jostled carefully onto its ramp, pulling them back into the entrance. As it approaches, they note the flashing lights within.

Moments after coming inside, a siren blares a monotone tune. Celeste gives a slight shake, and they feel gravity tug them upward.

The sun gleams brightly above, before that same pull of gravity shifts the dome downward, water sloshing beside the glass until it is submerged in a torrent of bubbles.

Hydrangea sighs. It was nice while it lasted.

Once the dome settles, Celeste opens up. The trio walk down the bridge, and Odessa smiles at the people waiting in front of them, “Hi everyone!”

“Odessa!” comes the barrage of greetings.

Odessa waves to the clone standing directly in front of her. Eyes a remarkable amber, Kreed waits with his arms held behind him. Bedecked in gentle beige, his tunic ends an inch above the floor, a golden sash with cerulean trimming at the edges tied around his waist. His feet are sandaled, which they found to be better suited for an environment that’s nothing but water outside. An older clone than the rest, he shows signs of aging that aren't too commonplace among the rest of her relatives. She long surmised that the majority of them were young by contrast. She attributes part of that to his firm but mellower personality, a patriarchal figure where there are none. “Hey, Kreed!”

Her uncle holds her tight to her chest, pulling back to look at her, “Was your trip uneventful?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

He laughs, before addressing the rest of the trio, “Hydrangea! Tristan! So good to finally meet you both! Physically, I mean.”

Hydrangea shakes his hand, “Hi, Kreed! It’s nice to be here at last.”

“Come, come, we have prepared a feast for your arrival!”

“Nice,” Tristan says, eager to get settled in.

Hydrangea looks around, morose.

Tristan touches her shoulder, “How are you, Gea?”

“I’m alright,” Hydrangea says, giving a reassuring smile.

Tristan stares at her, slowing his strides.

Hydrangea glances at his feet, and mimics his pace, allowing their friend and her family to continue forward on their own. She looks up at Tristan, “I really am okay.”

“Yeah, now,” Tristan tells her.

“Odessa did so much for me already, I don’t want to disappoint her,” she replies.

“Odessa doesn’t get offended over crap like that,” Tristan reminds her.

“I know but still…”

“Gea, if you have problems, Des is here to help out,” he says.

Hydrangea knows that he’s right. The last year and a half have been hard on her, being away from her mothers, her people, her home. She is here to aid Odessa in anything that she needs. She wants to be a good friend, and she figured that this wouldn’t be much to handle. She’ll admit, she didn’t prepare herself very well for it, even with Odessa’s assistance.

“I understand that she’s meant to help out—and she did do a lot for me already,” Hydrangea answers. “But it felt a little redundant to even bring it up time after time.”

“I think it would offend her more if you didn’t inform her that she was unable to give you what you needed.”

Hydrangea gives a soft chuckle, “That’s true.”

“Look,” Tristan says, touching her shoulder, fingers moving around the spikes. “It’s not like it matters anymore right now, because we’re here. But if she asks us to go on a trip again, you should think about being more open about what you need to be comfortable.”

“I know,” she sighs. Then she pats his hand with hers, a small, gracious smile on her lips. “Thank you. I’ll do better.”

Tristan returns the smile, and affectionately pats her shoulder.

Resuming their walk, they note that Odessa and Kreed had halted their own steps to wait for them. Their apologies are dismissed, as Kreed and Odessa didn’t mind the two conversing amongst themselves.

The dome continues to descend, and Odessa looks to the left, watching a school of fish swim by the glass, “You’ve expanded.”

Kreed smiles, “Yes, we did! It took a couple of years, but the results have been magnificent. We’re creating more habitable spaces throughout the planet.”

“That’s exciting to hear. Has the alternative plant source been beneficial?”

“Most certainly, my dear niece,” Kreed replies. “We have been able to move forward with our latest projects using the natural resources of this planet as fuel to power everything.”

Odessa listens in rapt attention as Kreed explains each aspect of their home in impressive detail. From the large dome that blocks out harmful UV rays, to the plumbing system, sewage plant, recreational and education centers, they have made this place their home without interfering with the natives of the planet.

Arriving at their destination, opulent doors, wreathed with marine imagery, akin to Salineas, open for them. But there’s a monstrous look to it—with towering statues made of silver metal, the Delphican people’s greatest warriors of legend and history are highlighted the best way they know how: long, powerful arms ending with webbed hands, clawing the air. Their naked bodies are streamlined and muscular, hairless scalps gleaming when light shines on them. Their eyes are black, forward-facing but protruding ever so slightly enough to make it noticeable they’re different from the other humanoids that occupy their world. Their mouths are open in preparation for battle, ferocious teeth bared at their enemies.

Tristan stands to admire the artwork, giving a nod of approval. “Damn, that’s pretty hot.”

Hydrangea turns to him, narrowing her eyes and pursing her mouth, “You do know they’re attacking something, right?”

“Yes,” Tristan answers, forefinger pointed up. “And that’s what makes it hot. Oooh, do you think they do commissions?”

Hydrangea lets out a short, breathy laugh, “And what would they do for you?”

“I think that’s pretty obvious, Gea,” Tristan says. “I want them to make a statue of me . Just as naked and just as cool.”

Hydrangea laughs as he poses, and Tristan gives an inward sigh of relief.

A large table stretches out across the room, a sea-green and white carpet laid beneath its legs. Marbled walls rise high above them, ending with a cathedral ceiling, painted with creatures that remind Odessa of what Tristan would show her on deep-sea cameras on Etheria, none of them friendly, which is how she enjoys it. On the wall itself, oval windows take up half of its height, revealing a trimmed yard behind it, showing off a scape laden with roses, daffodils and several prospering fruit trees.

Hydrangea perks up, “Oh, a garden!”

Kreed smiles at her, “We make it a priority to have plants here. It helps the air.”

Hydrangea stares out the window, with Tristan joining her. She remarks, “There are a couple species I don’t recognize.”

“Yes,” Kreed says. “We have acquired new types from either Odessa or some of my brothers from different planets.”

“Amazing! I’d love to see more of your collection. Is all the soil the same?”

“In this area, yes,” Kreed replies, ears twitching up with interest, walking toward her. “For the time you’re here, you’re welcome to explore our gardens.”

Hydrangea, pleased, launches into a discussion about the caretaking, which Kreed entertains with aplomb. Odessa is suddenly tackled from behind, and she reaches around to grab the offender with both arms, raising up a young boy of 14, grinning down at her.

“Hi, Dessie!”

Her annoyed expression fades, beaming, “Nano! You’re lucky I didn’t break you in two.”

Placing him down, Nano jumps at her waist, excited, “I couldn’t help myself! I missed you!”

Odessa hugs the boy close, patting his head, “It’s good to see you again. I brought my friends this time.”

Nano, eyes an unusual bright shade of orange, turns to Tristan and Hydrangea with equal enthusiasm, “Hey! Welcome to my home! It’s about time you two came by.”

Hydrangea smiles at him, “Thank you, we’re happy to be here.”

Nano turns to Tristan, sizing him up. Then he grins, “I’m going to have so much fun kicking your butt!”

Tristan laughs, arms akimbo and smirking, “Are you?”

“You bet! I’ve wanted to race you foreeeever! Can we do it now?”

“You may have your contest after dinner,” Kreed interrupts.

“‘Kaaaaay,” Nano replies, though his grin doesn’t leave, giggling.

Various seafood has been placed on the table a few moments later, arranged to show the best of freshly caught fish and crustacean. Odessa and Tristan, used to being adventurous eaters, have no qualm with any part of the meal. Hydrangea, though she can eat it, looks for plant-based dishes, which, thankfully, they accommodated for her.

Nano plops next to Odessa, kicking his legs, scales reaching down to his feet. He’s one of the more interesting cousins in terms of appearance, having the agility, speed and strength of a clone, but the exterior switches from skin to scales, with webbed fingers and toes at the ends of his limbs, all bluish-green; his face has paler shades of color compared to the rest of his body, and his gills are closed on his neck for now. He hums to himself as he piles food onto his plate. She had checked on him last time she was here, monitoring his vitals for irregularities in either his gills or lungs. The main difference seems to be that he has to moisturize more than the average cousin, and he doesn’t seem capable of growing hair on his scalp or face like his clone half, but he doesn’t seem to have any new problems.

Opening his mouth, revealing sharp canines lined along the gums, Nano chews a large chunk of meat. He turns to Odessa, cheeks puffed out from food, smiling with his lips and eyes closed.

A surge of sisterly affection tugs at her heartstrings, and she chuckles, “Be careful there, don’t choke.”

Swallowing, Nano wipes his mouth, giving a wide grin, “I don’t choke!”

“You did earlier this week,” Kreed says, cutting his food with a knife and fork. “Mindfulness is important.”

Nano gives a quick nod, before turning to Tristan, “Hey, hey, hey, are we going to race?”

“After dinner, sure,” Tristan says, then yawns. “Or, you know, maybe after sleep.”

“Aaaww, you said after dinner,” Nano whines.

“If our guests are exhausted, they’re free to sleep,” Kreed chastises.

Odessa smiles at her uncle, “Don’t worry about it. Tris slept all day, he can go for it!”

Tristan gives her a mild glare, “Of course, Des. Why wouldn’t I?”

She sticks out her tongue, satisfied.

Nano was more than excited to race. He was jumping up and down along the dome, feet light in the ground. Tristan, despite genuinely feeling like he could sleep more, wasn’t going to crush his expectations, nor did he have the intention to.

Hydrangea stares up at the artificial sunlight coming from above, “Do you think it could be warmer?”

“I feel fine,” Odessa says, glancing up. “But I could ask Kreed for you later.”

“I don’t want to impose on anyone—”

Odessa waves her hand, “Oh, Gea! They don’t mind, really! And if you didn’t dislike it, you wouldn’t say anything.”

Hydrangea sighs, “You’re right, I know.”

“‘Course I know!”

Approaching a smoothed pearl-colored tower, Nano yells at the people located at its top, “Hi!”

A clone peers down at them, waving, then pointing to the dome’s glass.

Nano gives a thumbs-up from the ground, and he turns to the trio, “Alright, they’ll open it for us!”

Hydrangea holds up her hand to her face, “Are we rising to the surface or…?”

“Nope! There’s a tube that runs through the bottom that launches people out. We needed to bring you guys the other way because of your ship.”

“Ah, so we’re racing underwater,” Tristan remarks.

“Yeah! Is that okay?”

“Fine by me,” Tristan answers, beginning his stretches.

Nano copies his stretches, wanting to be professional.

An opening in the ground forms, and the faint sound of suction movements comes from below. Nano beams at the three of them before jumping in feet first, form perfectly straight. Tristan salutes his friends before hopping in as well. Hydrangea and Odessa jog over to the glass, and a burst of bubbles shoot out when they emerge somewhere below them.

Nano swims up to the glass, tapping it then his wrist.

Odessa nods, then signs to Tristan: Are you going to keep that form?

Tristan doesn’t often have a smug appearance, but at the question, a smirk tilts the corner of his mouth. Behind his lips, his teeth sharpen, as well as his skin, darkening to ashen grey, reaching up toward the sides of his neck, where the flesh opens, water gushing out. His legs morph together as water circulates around them, dissipating with a flourished motion, revealing a long shark tail.

Hair floating away from his face, Tristan’s eyes are wholly black, and he grins at Nano’s shocked expression.

Nano turns to Odessa, signing with excited movements: You never told me your friend could do this!

It’s not something Tristan makes known to everyone, his penchant for taking a shark shape as he swims. It’s a trait inherited only by royals, should they so choose, and the last to use this disposition was his grandfather, the former King Selachus.

Hydrangea signs to them all: Alright everyone, play fair!

Or don’t, Odessa chimes in.

Flicking Odessa on the shoulder, Hydrangea signs: Who is going to signal?

Nano signs back: The guards know what we’re doing. They’ll be watching.

As Odessa beckons Hydrangea to follow her up to the towers, where they can get a better view, Nano and Tristan line up against the dome, staring ahead. Nano raises his arm up, waving before placing it back to his side.

Odessa takes in the tower, simple and clean walls, with weapons stacked in a corner, near a chest and a small writing desk for messages. Its purpose is clearly to observe anything from below, and she and Hydrangea can see both Nano and Tristan. The guards standing inside don’t do much but give nods in regard to their being here, and continue to stand.

Suddenly, there’s a loud noise resonating out of the dome. An object shoots out above them, a fair-sized dart torpedoing ten kilometers away. Nano holds out his hand to keep Tristan in place, signing: We have to wait for it to stop. Then they’ll let us know to go.

The object, which flashes a slow red in the distance, finally stops. A split second after there’s a blast—

The boys shoot off, even faster than the measuring pod, a blur of white froth and dark shapes. Odessa and Hydrangea peer closely at their retreating forms. The water is clear, so they don’t lose sight of them, and the height helps keep track of their movements underwater. They could’ve swam on the surface, but Nano prefers being under the waves, and Tristan is flexible about location. However, from the look of it, despite Nano being smaller and more spry, Tristan’s strength is also an advantage, keeping an impressive pace.

Hydrangea turns to a guard, “You don’t happen to have binoculars, do you?”

He raises a brow before opening a chest nearby and handing her a pair.

She smiles, “Oh, thank you!”

Odessa doesn’t ask for any herself, as she has no trouble following their forms. Tristan’s frame is notable, even intimidating, much of the time, and in this form, he stands out. Nano continues to be faster, and she has to commend that he isn’t wavering.

They notice that the pod is moving, darting toward the surface. Tristan and Nano don’t break their speed, immediately changing to chase after it. They crash through the surface—a whirlwind of bubbles torrenting from the intensity, and again as they return. Hydrangea gives an excited ‘ooh!’ and Odessa grins, enjoying the competition. If the boys were holding back, they certainly weren’t anymore. The pod keeps up with them, continuing its languid red flashing. Tristan and Nano tear through the water, fast approaching the dome’s end. Nano kicks in rapid succession, gaining some momentum.

Then Tristan jets further out, having saved some energy to push at the last possible moment.

Tristan touches the glass first, faster by 60 seconds. He grins with pride, turning to Nano with a thumbs-up.

Nano, pouting, crosses his arms.

Tristan gives the boy a gentle pat on the back, causing Nano to crack a smile.

The pod settles slowly between them, and Nano takes it with him as he swims back to the entrance.

Odessa and Hydrangea watch the two pop up from the ground, landing on their feet. Hydrangea thanks the guard for lending the binoculars, and walks down the stairs with Odessa.

“You both did amazing!” Hydrangea cheers, applauding.

“Thanks, Gea,” Tristan replies, blushing a little. “But I don’t know if it’s really that big of a deal when my opponent is a little kid.”

“Actually, it is,” Odessa clarifies. “Nano is really fast, even for his age. Delphicans, even young, are quicker than even the fastest Salinean, so consider it a true win!”

“Really?” Tristan asks, surprised.

“Yep!” Nano exclaims.

Odessa waved a hand, “I didn’t mention it before because I wanted to see what would happen.” Tristan tends to hold himself back, especially if he feels there’s no point in giving it a chance. To see him go all out was a treat.

Nano is full on smiling now, shaking his head, “Well, I thought I could beat you but you really got me! I’ve never lost before.”

Odessa smirks, “You had to learn to lose someday.”

Nano places his hands on his elbows, “Yeah, I guess…”

Was he not as good as he thought? He’s been used to being the fastest, especially among his peers. It’s a little odd...

Tristan flips his hair back, slicking it away. With an encouraging smile, he replies, “You did great too! Give yourself credit.”

A spark of admiration takes over Nano’s eyes. Hero worship at its finest.

“Hey, Mom!” Odessa says.

“Odessa! There you are! Did you make it to Inicos okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was meeting up with Kreed, had dinner, and then Nano wanted to race Tristan.”

“Ooohh, you were already so busy!” Entrapta says. She turns to her right, “Hordak! Say hi to our baby!”

Hordak sits beside Entrapta, smiling at her, “Hello, Odessa.”

“Hi, Dad,” Odessa replies. “How’re things at Etheria?”

“Work has been progressing smoothly,” Hordak says. “We’ve begun new construction on both Beast Island and New Chelicerata.”

“That’s awesome,” she tells them. She glances to her left, motioning her friends over. “Gea, you hear that?”

“I did!” Hydrangea answers, looking at Hordak and Entrapta. “How are my moms? Is everything okay at Plumeria too?”

“Never better!” Entrapta shouts. “We’ve been keeping occupied since you all left. Scorpia has been helping us a lot! She says she loves and misses you!”

“And Perfuma,” Hordak adds.

“Right! And Perfuma too!”

At that, Hydrangea smiles, more than happy.

Hordak looks at Odessa, “Has your uncle shown you the portal yet?”

“I’m sure he will soon,” Odessa replies. “There’s a lot to see!”

“That is good to hear,” Hordak says. He turns to his right, “Imp, don’t play with that!”

He leaves to go handle whatever her brother is doing, and Entrapta leans in to the communicator, “Your father misses you.”

Odessa gives a warm smile, “I miss him too. Both of you.”

“Have you asked Kreed anything about the clones?”

“No, that hasn’t occurred yet either. I intend to do it very soon.”

Hordak returns, holding Imp in his arms, “What else has transpired on your journey?”

They regale them with details of the rest of the day, finding that they’ve needed to talk to each other more than they believed. Hydrangea interjects during appropriate moments to inquire about her parents further, where Tristan does not.

Eventually, they bid goodbye, and head to bed after a tiring day, excited for tomorrow’s venture, and everything afterward.

�� -

Hydrangea and Tristan were impressed with the ingenuity of the dome. Their rooms have been modified for their needs and wants, giving them individual freedom as guests of Inicos. Everything was incredible: from the water systems that converted salt water to fresh through advanced hydraulics, the use of the planet’s natural gifts to aid in creating everything they saw from their furniture to their food to landscapes and buildings, and occasionally being sent what they could not make here through a portal.

But what they couldn’t help except be amazed by were Nano’s aquatic brethren.

Standing at nine feet tall, his mother, Esynad, greets them this morning outside of the dome, swimming lazily past the glass, before hopping inside from the tube. She is misted with a special chemical concoction of the clones’ design, allowing natives of Inicos to partake of the dome’s atmosphere without trouble.

Possessing scales that glisten in the sun, highlighting flashes of purple when she moves, she is considered to be a stunner among even her kind. Though, to Hydrangea and Tristan, she was beautiful to them as well and could see why anyone would’ve considered being her partner. But here, on Inicos, the ‘women’ choose who to mate with. All begin life with total androgyny, with no true way to separate them outwardly. Yet at maturity, a select group of Delphicans become large enough to be considered the females of their kind, and use the female reproductive organs each one holds. Afterward, they were asked to choose who to mate with by overlooking battles of strength and cunning between those who are ‘male’. It couldn’t be simply anyone—the males had to be near equal to the stature and power of the females and granted permission by whomever they pursue.

Esynad had received hundreds of suitors, all which failed her expectations. Fickle with her hand and undeterred by their pleas, she ignored them. Years had gone by and she continued to reject everyone who attempted to court her. Those who dared to fight one another in her presence, without her blessing, were punished swiftly. Esynad had no qualm being ruthless with those who displeased her.

When the clones arrived, the Delphicans were reluctant to share their space, but once they proved they had no interest in doing much of anything except stay above the surface, and remained neutral in territory disputes between separate pods, the Delphicans were accepting of their occupancy.

Eventually, they realized there was a higher benefit to working together and coexisting harmoniously. Esynad, being a de facto leader, made it her business to cooperate with their newfound friends. This led to her meeting Kreed, who took it upon himself to help his brethren and the people of Inicos. Not a few months later, she announced that he would be her permanent husband.

Kreed had been an unorthodox decision, both from being another species and that she refused to have him battle with anyone, saying that it was unnecessary, for she would have him alone. However, being customary, Kreed abided by their rules and triumphed over every single challenger. With that completed, they were given freedom to be together, and it eventually became part of their culture that clones could participate in the rituals of Delphican folk.

In time, due to the existence of hybrid children, it became apparent that it was important to adopt aspects of the clones as well. As they had no way of going about it on their own, they called on Hordak to inform them of his own child-rearing process. There was less fighting amongst each other for mates, and it became a community for raising offspring, however they were born. If bloodlust suited anyone, on either side, they were allowed to do battle; but the parents of said hybrid children were off limits for coupling, forming into monogamous pairs.

Esynad was still no one to trifle with, but being part of a partnership mellowed her a fair degree. She turns to the trio, a gentle smile on her features, dark eyes reflecting the kindness.

Odessa comes up to her, “Esynad! You’re looking spectacular as usual.”

Esynad lightly taps Odessa’s shoulder, “You’re so sweet, young one.”

Nano rushes to his mother, hugging her leg, “Are we showing them to the portal?”

“Yes,” Esynad replies, giving a slow wave of her hand. “Please, follow us.”

Kreed and Esynad both decided to take the liberty of escorting them, the six of them walking through the halls.

Kreed looks over his shoulder, “Odessa, I understand that you arrived in Inicos with some intended purpose. Is it too early to ask you to illuminate the subject?”

“No, it is not,” Odessa begins, glancing between her relatives. “I wanted to ask about Horde Prime.”

This gives her aunt and uncle pause, turning to appraise her, mildly bewildered.

Understanding her niece prefers forthright conversation, Esynad asks first, “Why would you want to know about that?”

“I’ve asked my father and have gotten no answer. I’m simply curious about what we are.”

“We…” Kreed trails off, thinking. He resumes his pace toward the portal. “We are clones of Horde Prime. No longer soldiers or invaders. But we continue to be—and always will be—clones of Horde Prime.”

Odessa walks alongside him, “But there must have been something before Prime? A way of life and culture that he may have passed onto you all?”

Kreed frowns, keeping silent. Giving him time to think on it, Odessa opts to glance around at the vicinity. The hallways have narrowed down to a singular direction, and the doors slide open, showcasing a portal in the center of the room. Wires, pipes and insulated cables align themselves upon the walls, or on the floor out of the way of roaming bodies. But they all hook up to the portal, or are connected to machines that deal with energy.

Eyes slightly wide, Hydrangea remarks, “That is a larger portal than the rest of them.”

Esynad looks at her, “Yes, we receive gifts from our family throughout the galaxies. Oftentimes, they are normal-sized, but on occasion, we do receive something that is larger or numerous in number. To accommodate, we’ve made a portal bigger than the normal scale. It’s why we couldn’t bring you three right away, but this will allow you all to traverse back easier.”

Kreed nods, “Indeed. We have made necessary preparations for when that time comes, whenever it may be. Until then, you are welcome to stay here for as long as you like.” He looks at Odessa. “Did you really travel all the way here to ask about our once-leader?”

“No one on Etheria could provide an answer,” explains Odessa, readying her recorder in her hair. “They suggested here to start.”

Exhaling through his nose, Kreed motions for her to come with him, as her friends discuss other things with her relations.

“Your determination is not without merit, Odessa,” Kreed says. “However, this is not a question that is worth exploring.”

Odessa comes right up to him, unafraid to be invasive, “Is it because you have no information to offer me, or that you are unwilling to divulge it?”

“Judging by the sound of your tone, my niece, you would be wise to consider the ramifications of your query,” Kreed replies, hands behind his back.

Odessa turns lightly on her heel, holding out her hands, “I have considered it. I’ve considered that this is something that we need to understand.” She spins on her foot, meeting his eyes. “There’s so much about us that we don’t know, even with all the technology and magic in the universe, there is no viable method out there that can explore deep memories.”

Kreed is one of the oldest clones that she is aware of. Talon’s age is astonishing as is when compared to other lifeforms, but Kreed is a grand total of 150. And still going.

There are slight changes in his appearance to the rest of the clones, where he is beginning to show signs of age. But the differences are so minute, the wrinkles visible when one strains the eyes to catch them, as they are fine lines, that they matter very little. His strength and agility is not remotely impaired by the fact. His physicality, unmarred by time, continues to put him above many species she’s encountered, as well as Inicosans, and especially Etherians. How old can their species become? If there were hundreds of him hanging above her head on the flagship, how long had he terrorized the universe? If he could conceivably live over a century, what else could he do?

“I conducted a study back on Etheria about your brothers,” Odessa tells him. “Everything about it suggests promising brain activity, and I want to test my hypothesis further. But to do so, I must have more information about us.”

Kreed glances at Esynad as she approaches, holding Nano in her arms, “This information… if given, what do you intend to do with it?”

Everything.

She wants to do everything with it.

She has to know what they are capable of, beyond a past of destruction and a present of rectifying mistakes. There’s a future for them that is complete. Hopeful.

“I simply want to learn more about us.”

Kreed closes his eyes, inhaling. Slow and easy. He is more than aware that Odessa is a personality that pushes toward the truth. A scientist and inventor like her parents both, she inherited their tenacity, and, for better or worse, their tunnel vision. She has shown incredible potential. What she lacks in social tact, she more than makes up for with her ability to observe and act on those observations.

Since she was young, he has been keeping track of her as well. The moment she asked for blood samples of her relatives at the age of five, he knew that she was different. She has spent countless hours of her youth being encompassed by superior science and keen minds. Trained and nurtured to ask questions, find answers, and adapt based on the result. Being a hybrid had nothing to do with it. What set her apart from all the children of clones was Odessa’s desire. A desire for what, he may never know. But she yearns for more. She longs. Until it’s found.

He has lived a long time, and he doesn’t know a clone similar to him. But he knows age isn’t the thing to contest. What the wise seek in peace, the eager seek in tumults, and how long someone has been alive doesn’t matter there. It’s all about who a person is. However, if anyone can withstand such a journey, it would be her.

Tristan and Hydrangea come together to stand at either side of Odessa. Friends that he has seen grown up over communicators, and their loyalty to her is impressive. Hordak wouldn’t allow anyone to be around his child that may be a threat to her safety, physically or emotionally. He wouldn’t either. So he looks at each one for a moment, exhaling.

“I, like your father, and my brothers, know nothing else except Prime.” Kreed says, voice measured. “He is part of us, forever, even as we build our lives on things besides him. You know that.”

Odessa nods, eye contact not wavering.

“There is… space…”

“Space?”

“Space. In our heads.” Kreed explains. He puts a gently closed fist against his chin. “Did you note that in your study?”

“No. My experiment involved photographic memory,” Odessa says, intrigued. She leans in, “What do you mean by ‘space?’”

“It’s… an expanse,” Kreed draws another breath, then out. “I’m unsure of whether it is due to being connected to the hivemind for so long, or if this is an aspect of ourselves as a species… but in my head, there’s a void. A void that contains the knowledge we possess, but it can be filled further. The mind cannot grasp all information in the universe. It would drive a person mad. However, my mind feels similar to a larger space—perhaps a deep cavern or pit, where it stretches outward past what individuals may expect it to end.”

“The brain is a powerful organ, though,” Odessa adds. “It can store a lot more data than we can ever hope to calculate.”

“That may be,” Kreed tells her. “And I do not doubt your research. We learn new information every day. But everything has its limits, including the mind and what it can withstand. What it can hold. All three of you can keep receiving new facts until the day you die, but learning new things weakens as you age. It stands to reason that the brain, then, is finite.”

“So, this void inside your mind, does it end?” Hydrangea asks.

“I believe it does,” Kreed replies. “You see, eventually, there’s a point where everything must stop. You can be a savant on many subjects at once, or dedicate your senses to partaking of a single subject and becoming an expert on that. The mind can learn and learn and learn all it wants, but once you hit that proverbial wall, you cannot go past it. It’d be too intense of a breakthrough. Yet, for us, I can only guess that we all have the similar proclivity to recollecting more information than most could even conceive because it’s a bigger space.”

Odessa breathes out. A mind that could hold more knowledge than ever thought possible… “Talon informed me that when you are all ‘born’ there’s a wall there, too. That you cannot remember anything before that point, and everything after that is what you keep. Is that a fair assessment?”

Kreed nods, “Yes, that’s correct. I cannot remember anything before being released. That is our starting point. Afterward, it's an endless space.”

“Although, as someone that’s been alive longer than the others, is it possible you have knowledge that they don’t?” Odessa says, tone a little more enthusiastic. “Can you remember anything else from your time with the Horde?”

“Aside from what you’d expect? No.”

“I see,” she says, glancing at her companions.

Esynad touches her husband’s shoulder, looking down at him, “Perhaps our niece would benefit from visiting Rulvam.”

Odessa’s eyes widen slightly, “Rulvam?”

Tristan raises a brow, “I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned that before, Des.”

“I haven’t!” she says, louder from excitement. Turning back to Kreed, she asks, “What’s there? We have other family members living somewhere we didn’t know of?”

“Several of your uncles have gone on to other planets after settling on Inicos for a time,” Esynad explains to them, voice low and soothing. “Rulvam is a planet a fair distance from us, about the length that it took you to arrive here without a portal.”

Kreed adds, “The only difference between Rulvam and other planets we’ve made home, is that there is no portal in place.”

Hydrangea’s brows furrow together, “They don’t own a portal, or theirs isn’t working? Like yours had been?”

“The reason is unclear,” Kreed admits, glancing up at his wife. “Some time ago, we stopped receiving all communication from them. We sent out signals, to no avail; the last transmission we obtained was a positive one, telling us on Inicos that the planet was being changed for the better, and new projects were underway to bring out the best of Rulvam. Aside from Etheria, we don’t come into contact with any of our sister planets too often.”

Nano, who had been quietly absorbing the conversation, speaks, “That had been four years ago now, right?”

“That’s correct,” Kreed says, smiling at his child.

Odessa is bewildered. A planet with relatives that she’s never been to before. That’s amazing! It’s another lead that, hopefully, will uncover more about their kind.

Tristan shifts his gaze at Odessa. She’s already thinking of something new. But if there’s anything that stays consistent, it’s her inquiring mind.

Hydrangea looks at her friends, aware that they’re all pondering the same question.

Why did Rulvam stop communication?

LINEAGE LOG: DAY 730

I spoke with my aunt and uncle today about the concept of memory! It proved to be an exciting trip. In a few days, we will be taking the portal back to Etheria, as it’s now completed, and save ourselves a healthy amount of time. They didn’t mind us being here, but I believe it’s time to return to Etheria. I never mind the constant travel through space, however, it will be profitable and convenient to visit my parents sooner than later. Then, we can begin planning our next journey!

#fanfic: The Ripple Effect #entrapdak #entrapdak fankid #spop

18 notes · View notes

tiredkittykat · 3 years

Text

Not a hero but my hero

Enemy: fire/lava whip goes mad when his wife does at hospital

Yn nurse? Didn't specifically work with wife but has seen her and spoken with her

Shinso gets sent in because he's the closest hero /in patrol gets burned /knocked out yadda

Has seen yn a few times at hospital.

She's at hospital for night shift needs more money covering for someone whatever

Villan comes in threatens to destroy hospital because he thinks it lacks/ they let his wife die

Shinso comes in, while struggling to keep people safe gets burnt knocked unconscious

Villan goes to whip shinso yn jumps in front of him covering him with her body takes the hit

Yells at husband talks about wife how she wouldn't want this

Husband v sad gives up and goes to jail

Yn is in pain ends up staying in hospital for burn shinso comes to see her thanks her they talk

Ask for a date or go longer?

Please be gentle with it.

Tell me how you like it so far...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You really jumped in front of me to take that hit?” he pulled his chair closer to your bedside , resting his good arm on the bed a mere inches from yours. You smile tenderly at him and pull his face back when he tries to look away. You can see the guilty look in his eyes, written in the way his shoulders have been dropped ever since he seen you in your bed.

With a soft touch to his cheek you say in a quiet voice, like it was a secret between just the two of you. “I had to. Sometimes even you heros need saving.” His eyes go wide and you start to see a faint pink touch his cheeks, ”and my hero was in danger.” And it may have been the pain meds you were on or may have been the fact that you survived a near death experience made you feel brave, but you slide your palm along his cheek. What surprises you most is that he leans into it,tilting his head and closing his eyes.

“Your hero huh?” the smallest smirk ghosts his lips as he keeps his eyes closed. “I think I’d be okay with that.” He opens his eyes to stare deeply into yours. His hand slides up to cover yours on his cheek, he pulls your palm away and holds it in his curling his fingers with yours. That smirk slides of his face and it's replaced with a frown. “You know.. When your coworker told me you ran in to help those people I thought that I was gonna lose you. I thought about how I’d never have you stitch me up or dress my wounds or hound me about being too dangerous. In that moment I realized that I’d be really sad if anything happened to you.”

“Shinsou-“ he held up a finger to cut you off.

“Before you say anything, I’m sad when anything happens to any of these people. This is my city so I feel like they're all my responsibility but you’re different. If anything happened to you I don't know how I'd take it.” He furrows his brows, “Over these past few months I’ve been here way too much just to see you. I know most of your coworkers by name and I know your work schedule and now that I think of it that sounds really creepy.” He rubs a hand through his disheveled hair “ugh what am I doing?! YN What I mean is I really like you,like a lot and I want you to go out with me and I admire you and I want to be there for you on your bad days at the hospital, I wanna be there on your good days too, and lounge around and just be around you in general. I just-“ his cheeks were beet red by now. He started to look away from you again but you tug his arm forward with enough strength to get him out of his seat.

With wide surprised eyes he turns back to you to find your lips a mere centimeters from his. “I really like you too Shinsou.” The butterflies in your stomach from this morning came back in full force at the feel of his breath fanning across your face. You were sure it was the drugs making you do books, but you didn't mind because you were finally taking him what you've wanted to for months. All this days of bashful flirting and his teasing finally leading up to this moment.

“Please.. Call me..Hitoshi.” his lids flutter closed As he closes the distance between you in a kiss. In that moment you can’t feel anything but pure excitement. You faintly hear your heart monitor next to you beep faster along with your heart rate. You two lock lips for what feels like an eternity before he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours, keeping his eyes closed. “Honestly I’ve been thinking about doing that all day.”

A loud cough at the doorway pulls your faces away from each other. Your head nursr traps her clipboard and waves it in your direction. “Mr. Mind Jack if you are going to visit could you keep my patient c calm and not raise her heart rate?” He gives a feeble sorry and then stands up with a wince. “Relax you act like ivve never seen two people kiss before. I am going to have to ask you to leave though. It’s late visiting hours are over and YN needs her evening round of pain meds. They'll more than likely make her tired. If you have anything to say say it now otherwisewait until morning.” She goes to work recording your vitals and writing them on her clipboard.

“I guess I'll see you tomorrow.” Shins- Hitoshi grips your hand and brings it to his lips for a chaste kiss on the backside.

“You promise?” You feel the heat from his lips on your skin and it gives you shivers. You had just gotten him to confess to you, and you already feel your heart breaking at the thought of him leaving.

“I promise. I’ll have paperwork to fill out at work so it won’t be right away but I’ll bring you coffee from the place you always talk about.” He squeezes your hand a little before letting go and gives one last kiss to your forehead before waving to your nurse. She gives him a gentle shoo and he slips out the door quiet as a cat.

Your coworker waits until the your room door is shut all the way before turning back to you with a wide grin. “Y/N!”

“I know!” You are practically vibrating with excitement as Hana sits down on your bed. “It was better than I imagined! His lips were so soft and I've imagined kissing him but reality,” you flop back onto your pillows, “reality is so much better.” You sigh dreamily as Hana hands you your medication for the night and asks you questions about the kiss and confession.

Outside your room Hitoshi pulls his scarf over his reddened face. ‘She said she’s imagined kissing me.’ He can’t help the small grin that forms on his face as he pushes away from the door. He digs his phone from the hidden pocket in his suit to call for a cab when it vibrate, notifying him of a message. He gives a little laugh when he sees that it’s you sending the description of a coffee drink with a little coffee emoji next to it.

‘Well at least now I don't have to guess what you like.’ After he sends it he dials the cab service number. After telling them his location and which door he'll be at he hangs up, seeing that you had texted him again.

‘See you tomorrow Hitoshi!’

‘See you tomorrow my little hero.’

#shinso hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #it's not a full fic #shinsou #pro hero shinsou

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Text

Loving You Is A Losing Game - chapter eight

i suck at updating. i also remembered that i have another book i’m working on, so i’m trying to write all of that before i publish the first chapter. so its been fun.

this chapter is written like an eleven year old girl wrote it, and for that i apologize. i’m tired. hope you like it though... and also, i know that teddy doesn't come until after the merger, but i'm changing that because otherwise there is no one for cardio

~*~

"oh, oh, all i know, all i know, loving you is a losing game"

~*~

alex karev was having a good day. a really good day actually. izzie wasn't as determined to go back to work as he thought she would be, and didn't try to argue with him when he told her that she needed to stay home. he hadn't seen any bears that morning (those things are freakin terrifying), and he had a small texting session with jo, which inevitably made him laugh as she rambled on about absolutely nothing. yeah, it was a good day, and he just hoped that it would stay that way.

he walked into the hospital leisurely since he —for once in his life— wasn't late. he stopped by the coffee cart and ordered a straight black coffee, giving the cashier a half hearted attempt at a smile before making his way to the resident's lounge and changing into his scrubs. he felt a sense of calm in him. he knew that something was probably bound to happen at some point, but right now he was going to enjoy the silence of the lounge (a major rare) before the storm hit. because it always did right? that's how it had been his whole life. happy kid, bam, dad starts using. dad starts using, mom's conditions gets worse. mom's conditions get worse, she had more kids.

he knew it wasn't fair of him to call his little siblings a storm, but in a way they were. it made him have to grow up a hell of a lot younger than other kids his age. so bam, siblings. then he starts his surgical internship, which leads to a crazy amount of drama. he gets married, then cheats on his wife. if you ask him, that was a whole lot of storms. but right at this moment, there was no storm. there was just a guy lying down on a bench as people chattered in the halls. a guy with his eyes closed as he lets his mind go completely blank, not thinking about anything at all except the white noise he seemed to hear.

it was peaceful, he couldn't remember the last time he wasn't worried about his wife or his friends. right now it was just him, not worrying about anybody or anything, not even himself. he just relaxed and let the white noise take over.

but of course, moments of calm must come to an end. his pager breaks him out of his state, rubbing his eyes before finding doctor robbins, who was paging him to the PICU.

"what happened?" he asks a nurse, pulling on a pair of gloves as he entered the room of jeremy thomas, a six year old who came in a few days ago after he had fallen out of the tree he was climbing, a not so rare occurrence in peds. he had some internal bleeding that they were able repair and a minor concussion, but otherwise seemed to be doing fine. until now that is, his monitors seeming to be beeping out of control in the otherwise quietness of the sterile four walls, nurses rushing in to help.

he watches as arizona brings two different ultrasound machines into the room, immediately paging cardio as alex tries to consult the crying parents, leading them out into the hall and onto chairs, giving them reassuring words as he makes his way back in, robbins looking up at him immediately. "his appendix burst." the blonde says, not having time to say more as doctor altman enters the room, performing a cardiac ultrasound, pursing her lips as she analyzes the screen.

"we missed it before, but he tore his aorta. it was too small to see when he first came in, but we need to get him up to the OR right now." she states, already unlatching the wheels of the bed as she shouts orders to nurses, letting them know that an operation room needed to be prepped and ready for them. they roll jeremy up to surgery, scrubbing in as quickly as they could before beginning the operation. he watches as the two women stick out their hands, taking a deep breath before they begin.

"ten blade."

____

"suction! i need suction!" altman says frantically to her resident, trying to stop the bleeder as quickly as she could. alex feels his heart drop at the sight of the kid in front of him. there was so much blood pooling in his chest, and no matter how much suction he knew the scrawny resident applied, the kid was too far gone. he was hands deep in the boys abdomen, helping robbins suture as she looked for any more damage done to the boy.

when the monitors begin to draw out in a straight line and he hears the cardio surgeon yell clear! he knows that it was a lost cause. they shock the boy three times, teddy letting out a loud sigh as she shakes her head defeatedly.

"call it karev" arizona says to him.

alex gulps, this was his least favorite part about being a surgeon, not only calling time of death, but doing it to a kid. and this child was only six years old. he'd never grow up. never go to a high school formal or experience his first love. his life ended because he fell out of a tree. how freaking screwed up was that?

"time of death, 10:13 am." he sighs, immediately ripping off his gown and gloves, thrusting them into the bin, the attendings not far behind him. he tears his light blue scrub cap off, leaning into the scrub sink as he watches the younger resident close up the patient, nurses cleaning up the blood and lap pads on the ground. alex shakes his head and lets a slow breath escape his lips. he always had to calm himself down after losing a kid, and he's lost a fair amount of them in his nearly four years at seattle grace. it made him mad. mad that the universe could take something, no, someone so innocent from this world while there were people like his dad who were running around free. well, he was free when alex was a kid. maybe jimmy was dead now, who knew. but that didn't change the fact that a kid was dead and awful people were out there, living their best life.

arizona gives his shoulder a small rub, silently telling him that he did good in there, it just wasn't enough. the three scrub out alongside each other, alex taking in the attending's appearances, arizona looked exhausted and like she hadn't slept in days, while altman, who he didn't know very well, looked stressed. seems like he'd be talking to the parents.

"i'll tell the thomas's" he says, already beginning to jog down the hall before he sees the taller blonde catch up to him, saying something about how they both needed to be there, big guns and all. when he tells the parents the news he feels the overwhelming urge to just quit again. it happened every time. those cries haunted him. it hurt him when he lost patients, but this was someone these parents loved more than life itself. their own flesh and blood, a product of their love for each other. but he wouldn't quit. he never did. instead, he would work in the skills lab to improve his technique and save more kids. that's what he would do.

there goes his good day. he didn't think it could get any worse, because let's be realistic, what was worse than losing a kid? nothing could make a day more crappy than that. that was until, when he passed by the chief's office to see his wife in a chair, talking to richard webber urgently, almost as if she was pleading.

he lets out a frustrated sigh, having the urge to punch a wall. of course it wouldn't have been that easy, how stupid of him to think otherwise. he should've known izzie would pull something like this. he knew how much this job meant to her. this was her home, just like him. but he was still pissed. she needed to be resting, she was still too weak to come back to work.

before he knew it he was barging into the chief's office, startling the blonde, but not so much the chief. he knew alex would turn up sooner or later.

"what the hell iz!" alex says angrily, glaring at his wife.

izzie lets out a frustrated sigh. "alex i need to be here." she says adamantly, standing up from her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. she was wearing a long sleeved beige sweater, even though it was hot inside of the office. that wasn't what alex would call being well enough to go back to work.

"no izzie, you need to go home and rest. you'll be fine." he says, running a hand through his hair as he watches the fire burn in her eyes. crap. he was trying to civil. he even used a softer voice, but yet she just got more angry.

"how the hell can you say that alex!" she yells, richard leaning back in his chair uncomfortably. he wasn't one who liked to be in the middle of drama. "i'm at that goddamn trailer all day while you're here!"

he lets out a slow breath, trying to calm his anger. if he didn't, he would snap. and if he snapped, izzie would ban him from the tin can the called their home and he would be forced to spend the night at mer's place, and he definitely didn't want to hear her and shepherd going at it. they were like bunnies, screwing each other everywhere at any time.

"iz, please. just go home and rest." he pleads with her. he couldn't deal with her getting sick again. he almost lost her last time. she died in his freaking arms. he couldn't go through that again... the helplessness, the pain. he loved her, but she died in his arms. he couldn't lose her. her loved her. he couldn't go through the hurt again, the heartache almost losing her brought on. it was gut wrenching and terrifying, it ate him up inside and loomed in his nightmares. he couldn't lose her, not to this cancer, not again.

the blonde was about to say something when the chief steps in, leaning over his desk and clasping his hands in front of him, giving the woman sympathetic eyes. "karev's right stevens. go home and rest."

izzie swallows the lump growing in her throat. she wanted to argue. she wanted to say that she felt fine, that she was ready to go back to work, but she knew defying the chief would only get her in trouble. she sighs in defeat and nods her head, turning to glare at her husband. she was pissed. maybe she could've gotten richard to agree to letting her come back if he hadn't come in. now she would never know (she knew that realistically that wasn't the case, webber had been denying her requests since the moment she stepped though his office doors.)

she brushes by alex without looking at him, making him sigh as he watches her walk down the catwalk and disappear around a corner. he turns back to the man and gives him a small, appreciative nod. he was too tired to manage a smile. the chief nods back, understanding how he felt.

he just wanted to go to joe's and have a beer, his crappy day taking a toll on him quickly. arguing with his wife always took a toll on him. it was exhausting. it seemed to drain him inside and out, making his brain lose it's function until he got to state of peace, which only occurred when he had a beer in his hand and was sipping it leisurely, or when he was able to lie down and sleep.

the beer sounded much more appealing, but he still had six more hours of his shift. normally, with the upcoming merger he would make sure to stay overtime, logging extra hours in the pit, scrounging for surgeries, but today he just didn't have the energy.

he makes it into the nearest on call room and crawls into one of the bottom bunks, setting his pager directly beside him so it would have no trouble waking him up when it went off. he lets out a yawn as he wraps the thin, uncomfortable blanket tightly around him as he drifts off the sleep, hoping to forget about the day he's had so far, even if it's just for a few minutes.

____

when she woke up that morning nothing was out of the ordinary. She could hear the birds chirping their delightful songs, she could feel the duvet pulled up to her neck, and she could tell that paul wasn't in the bed with her. she was used to waking up like this, it was her idea of normal.

it wasn't until she tried to open her eyes she realized what was wrong. she couldn't open her left one. she was confused at first, until she felt the pain shoot through her body, traveling from her eye to the rest of her body, feeling like how it did when she first received the punch. the memory of last night was a bit iffy. all she remembered was coming home from the party, getting punched, her husband saying he was sorry, and talking to alex.

that thought brings a small smile on her face, recalling the teasing that had happened the night before. she knew that their... whatever they had escalated quickly. in just a few days of knowing each other, they had learned so much about one another that it seemed like they had been best of friends since they were kids, but hey, if cheating on your spouse doesn't bring you together, what does?

she lets out a groan of pain, wincing as she finally pries her eye open, getting up slowly before making her way to the bathroom, frowning at the sight she saw in the mirror. a dark purple bruise covered her left eye and the area surrounding it. she splashes some cold water on her face, gently patting it with a wet towel once she was done. last night changed a lot of things. something had been in paul's eyes when he hit her, something she hadn't seen before. it was like a billion fires were raging inside of him, and when he hit her, it was the burn.

but... he seemed so sorry after he had done it. at least she knew better now, he was just a bit jealous. he didn't want to lose her, he loved her. and if that meant he got a bit mad over her talking to his colleagues too much, then she wouldn't make the same mistake again.

she walks out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, grabbing a pack of frozen peas from the fridge and wraps it in a towel, pressing it gently to her swollen bruise. the cold stings a bit at first, but she sucks it up as she leans against the marble island's counter, watching as the minute hand ticks by on the clock above the random painting her husband had hung on a wall. today she had nothing to do. it was a saturday, so she didn't have any classes, and she didn't have any work to do. no papers, essays, labs... the ultimate rare and what most would call the greatest blessing for a college student, but for her it just meant she had to sit around and watch TV until her husband got home.

she wanted to feel angry at paul, but how could she? she didn't have the right to be mad at him, she cheated on him. wouldn't that make her a hypocrite, being mad at her husband when she had done something worse?

she sighs as she sets herself down on the couch, turning on the TV and flipping it to some random channel, settling on a soap opera she had seen a few times play on the screen. her life felt a bit like a soap opera right now to be honest. actually, her whole life had.

welcome to 'the life of jo, (who's name isn't actually jo, its brooke)'. catchy title right? she thought so too.

last night, the feeling of paul holding her in his arms no longer made her feel safe. it felt wrong. she just wanted to feel safe again, that was all she really wanted. for him to hold her like a porcelain doll and place kisses on the top of her head. she had always felt safe then. why couldn't she feel that now?

she just wanted to feel safe again.

____

alex walks out of the hospital, head hung low with his hands buried deep in his pockets, letting out a deep exhale as he watches his feet move beneath him like they were the greatest movie he'd ever seen. anyone who passed by him on the street could probably take one look at him and tell that he had a crappy day.

he sighs as he contemplates the day he had so far. it was only seven thirty-three, yet it felt like he'd been up for forty eight hours. his quick nap in the on-call room only lasted a mere ten minutes before he was paged to the pit, only to find out that the kid he would be assisting on was a four year boy old with abusive parents. it took everything in him not to beat the shit out of the assholes.

add that to losing jeremy and izzie drama, he was exhausted. he didn't want to do anything. he wanted to feel at peace. he just wanted a little bit of normalcy, something he knew wasn't even close to possible, especially with his job.

alex leans against the brick wall in the ally way of joe's bar, pulling out his phone and clicking on the familiar contact.

jo pulls out her ringing phone, a sigh a relief escaping her lips as she sees the name pop up on her screen. they speak it at the same time, words breathy and tired.

she says it because she wants to feel safe.

he says it because he wants to feel normal.

"when can i see you again?"

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gingerwritess · 4 years

Note

Ok crazy thought. So if the last predating is to go through with Loki being tortured and reader saving the day like a boss, would Loki be hooked up to machines? More specifically a heart rate monitor? That for some reason increases when you get close? And goes ballistic when you touch him?

part 17, in which you absolutely snap

warnings: a big phat long chapter, prisoner situations, lots of emotions, the beginnings of tension, and big reactions

You’re mad—but you’re not exactly sure if you’re supposed to be.

Technically you didn’t kiss Loki. You kissed Laing, and it was all part of keeping up your cover, so automatically…no strings attached.

But the so-called god now strapped to the hospital bed a few doors down is definitely the one who’s lips had been on yours, at one time or another.

He’s also the highly dangerous criminal wanted by most of the worlds officials, who you also at one point let shower in your home, sleep under your desk, sat on his lap, brushed his hair, fed him, clothed him, patched him up—

Sheesh, that’s enough.

You scrub at your mouth with your shirt sleeve, blanching at the memory of almost liking it.

Now—and you really shouldn’t be surprised—you get to answer for it all.

Thor is not helping.

“I knew it,” he announces and points a finger at you. “You are attracted to him! You like him in a physical, romantic sense of the word—”

“God, no, that’s–that’s not even close—”

“Easy, Thor.”

Luckily Tony shuts the other god up while you bury your face in your hands.

After Loki had passed out, you’d been escorted—in a much gentler fashion than he was—to a crisp white holding cell and given some remedies to try and sober you up as best they can.

You recognised it to be an interrogation room, much like the one you’d seen Loki cursed to before this whole thing got blown to hell, but at this point, you can’t care.

Steve is the first to come question you (probably because he’s the only completely sober one), and the first thing you can think to blurt is “don’t hurt him.”

Then you mentally smack yourself across the face—they already saw you kissing him. Now this?

Maybe Thor was right.

“I have to ask,” the captain slowly starts, “was the motivation of your…partnership…romantic?”

Even with how furiously you deny it, you still don’t think he believes you.

The night becomes morning before you know it, filled with endless questions and exhausting interrogations, which you answered completely truthfully and to the best of your ability.

Even taking the liberty to include some of Loki’s story.

When Thor was in the room, you jumped on the opportunity to describe just how beat up his brother is and how he’s been covering it up because of some “target” on his back, how he’s been lying through his teeth about every motivation for the attack, how he needs help.

You’re still mad—you’re mad at Loki for refusing to talk for so long, for being so damn stubborn he nearly got himself killed, and now for dragging you this deeply into the newest villainous conspiracy.

…and for becoming himself when you kissed him.

Kissing Loki was never the plan; you didn’t mind kissing Laing.

The sun is fully risen by the time you’ve covered the whole story from day one, almost down to every detail—the avengers don’t need to know how many times you accidentally saw him shirtless—and you still have a team of people grilling you.

Marcus lounges against the doorframe, gun limp in his hands and visor down, most likely to cover his eyes as he tries to catch a few winks of sleep, but another guard walks in and they both shoot to attention—a bit groggily.

“He’s awake,” she says, “and he said he wants to speak with all of you immediately.”

Your head shoots off the interrogation table with a start. “Huh??”

“You stay here,” Tony instructs, gut twisting when your face falls. “Look, I’m sorry, but as far as we know now, you’re in kahoots with a criminal. We have to take every precaution, alright? Just while we get this figured out.”

“Tony, he’s been lying—”

“I know, I know, you’ve told us.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But we’ve got hardly any proof of that. Give us some time.”

Motioning for the two guards to follow them, Steve, Tony, Bruce, a pretty hungover Clint, Natasha, and Thor head out, leaving you in the cell to freak out about what the next few hours hold by yourself.

You’ll be fired, without a doubt. Even if Loki does admit to any of what you told them, you still aided in his deception.

Damn it, why did you have to let him sleep under your desk??

Who in their right mind agrees to that?!

Worst case scenario, you stay in jail for a good chunk of your life. Loki will either be in the same position or worse—if he was that adamant about not returning to Asgard, you figure it’s execution that awaits him there.

Or something worse. They’re gods, they probably have something much worse.

The little cot is relatively comfortable; this isn’t a jail cell, technically. It’s a holding cell, for…characters of interest.

Which is now you, apparently.

Thanks, Loki.

It’s comfortable enough, and you slip into a dreamless slumber within minutes.

—

Eyes on you bring you back to the land of the living, that eerie, squirmy feeling that you’re being watched.

And you are: stifling a yawn and blinking to clear your eyes, you sit up to find Clint and Thor staring at you through the cell windows.

You can kind of understand why Loki hated it. It’s an awful feeling, being a trapped specimen to be watched and studied.

It’s Tony who opens the cell door, and followed closely by Thor and Clint, he leads you to a couch this time, not the interrogation table.

“What happened, what’d he say?”

Tony laughs uncomfortably, chewing his lip.

“This…isn’t going to be easy for you to hear,” he carefully tells you, stepping around his words. “You, uh, you were influenced in this whole ordeal.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You laugh, looking around to each of their somber expressions. “C’mon, we were all a little drunk.”

“Not like that.” Tony sighs and presses his palms to his eyes. “You were, for lack of a better term, mind controlled. Loki had you under his flying monkey spell, he admitted to the whole thing.”

You gape at him, trying to process what he just said. “I was not—”

“I know it’s hard to hear,” Clint cuts in. “It’s an awful feeling. But he made me his right hand man, so…you’re not alone in this. Loads of us were affected by it, too.”

Mind controlled. This whole time??

You fall back against the couch with a thud, mind reeling.

He hadn’t mind controlled you. Sure, he threatened it, but you made every one of your decisions perfectly consciously. You chose to let him come over, you chose to feed him, and yes, you’re paying for it now, but everything you saw with your own two eyes and remember vividly as your own.

He did kind of coerce you into pretending to date him, and it was a little more like blackmail, and yeah, he did try to alter your memory, and–and…

“Shit.”

“We’ll give you a moment,” Tony quickly offers, patting you on the shoulder. “Clint is here if you need a companion with similar experience, don’t be afraid to talk through this.”

“Nooo, this can’t—”

“The good news is you’re in the clear!” The false cheeriness is anything but reassuring. “You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to, but we do have some support, or therapy kind of things for people he hurt this way.”

You stare at Tony, then at Clint.

You’d seen footage of the assassin when he was under Loki’s control: terrifying and exceptionally believable, but nothing like what you looked like.

You take a deep breath and turn on Thor.

“Have you even thought to go talk to him??”

“Of course,” Thor immediately answers, brow furrowing. “He refuses to talk, he won’t say any more than what he wants to say.”

“But have you shown an interest in wanting the truth??”

“He’s the god of lies,” he exclaims, glaring right back at you.

Shoving up in the face of the god of thunder was never something you thought would happen, but here we are.

“That doesn’t mean anything, argh, you two are so stuck in your god complex—”

“Truth has never been his way,” Thor interrupts. “I tried to warn you he would do something like this, you can’t actually be surprised this happened.”

“Actually, I am, because apparently I’m the only person in here with an ounce of sense—you know what?” You drop your accusing finger and laugh. “Screw this. I wasn’t mind controlled.”

Then you turn on your heel and sprint down the hall to find Loki.

He’s being kept in a what’s basically a lab, and ten times worse than a cell: strapped at the wrists and ankles, he’s restrained to the bed but propped up slightly, an array of needles in his arms and cords reaching for monitors from his chest, and worst, a stupid little smirk on the lips you wish you hadn’t kissed.

“You little shit,” you hiss the moment you’re through the door. If it weren’t for the injuries still hiding beneath his facade, you’d slap him, but you resolve to grabbing the cup of water by the bed and throwing it in his face.

That wipes the smirk right off his face.

“You didn’t mind control me!”

Sputtering and shocked, he opens his mouth—

“No,” you snap, shoving a finger in his face. “No more bullshit, you didn’t mind control me. I saved your ass and I did it by choice. And I don’t regret it! You didn’t have any say in that, and yeah, you threatened it, but I never let you.”

Thor and the others crash through the doorway after you and come to a screeching halt as your rant rages.

Loki’s eyes flicker to them and for a split second he considers just taking all his strength and leaving—this can’t end well.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warn, and lean over him with a gaze so threatening and fiery the heart monitor next to him starts beeping steadily faster.

You pretend not to notice.

“I’m trying to help you,” he whispers, trying to keep up the cocky facade, but his eyes almost plead. “Trust me—”

“Trust you.”

You turn to Thor with a hysterical, exhausted laugh. “He wants me to trust him!”

The other God’s face twists in confusion.

“I don’t trust you,” you spit back at Loki. “You haven’t earned that, but I don’t want you to die, either.”

Loki’s eyebrows lift, water droplets clinging to their curve.

“Why?”

Clenching your eyes shut and chewing your bottom lip, the right words just won’t come to you.

“It’s a valid question,” Thor helpfully adds from the doorway—and in that moment, you silence a god with one burning look.

“Because I don’t—I haven’t found any…ugh.”

“See,” Loki cuts in, “alterations to the mind—”

“Because I already should’ve killed you,” you blurt, then clap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide.

Nobody moves, all staring as you try to sort through everything that’s come to light.

“The day I first saw you,” you grit out, glaring at the stubborn god, “I wanted to hurt you, I wanted you to die and I made a stupid judgement call and decided that’s what should happen.”

“Thanks,” Loki dryly remarks.

“Shut up. I shot you, that time you showed up in my office, and I really thought I–I shot you—but, um, you didn’t die.”

Your hands clench into fists by your thighs.

“And now I have to live with that guilt, even though it didn’t actually go through. So…I don’t want you to die, ‘cause after everything you’ve failed to hide from me, I don’t think you deserve to.”

The room falls silent, and Loki shifts uncomfortably on his pillow.

Damn it all to hell, maybe you were mind controlled. Where did that come from??

“Sorry,” you mumble; then with one last decision, refill the cup with water and fling it in his face again.

Just for…everything’s sake.

You flop into the nearest chair and drop your head into your hands with a groan.

“So…”

Tony clears his throat, gaze falling on Loki.

He’s never seen the god trying so hard to look like himself.

“You better start freaking talking.”

Loki considers it for half a moment—eyes flitting to you and really weighing the options—and with a twitch of his lips, his restraints fade and he stands.

“Mm…no.”

The plan was to fade into nothing and leave them all grasping for him right at that moment, but you’re on him in an instant, tackling him back onto the bed.

“YOU’RE GOING TO FUCKING TALK,” you screech, pinning him to the mattress. “YOU’RE GOING TO TELL THE TRUTH AND WE’RE GOING TO HELP YOU, YOU LITTLE—”

“Fine, fine, norns,” he gasps, struggling to catch your arms and flip the tables, “gods, woman, STOP—”

Thor moves to grab you, but you finally come to a stop simply holding Loki’s shoulders down—and straddling his hips, you realise, but like, professionally.

The heart rate monitor is going ballistic, and Loki can’t glare up at you with enough venom.

“You are the stupidest, most disdainful midgardian I have ever encountered—”

“Oh, cause all your interactions with mortals were so great,�� you scoff, pressing down harder on his shoulders. “I’m sure all your subjects would agree—”

“Hey,” Tony cuts in, stepping closer to the two of you—on top of each other on a bed, you remember. Oh well. “What the hell is happening right now??”

“Loki is going to drop all his magic shit, right now.”

“Like Hel I am,” the god under you spits.

“Take it off,” you order and give him a good shake, “all of them, off, no magic.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Do it, dipshit—”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No!” He mimics, that sick grin back on his face. “There’s no point at all—what are you doing??”

Practically ripping his shirt open, to be specific, and Thor gasps, positively scandalised by the image you can only imagine this looks like.

The beeping of his heart rate speeds to a ridiculous amount and you actually catch a deep flush spreading over his face; pushing the shirt from his shoulders, you climb off of him and take advantage of his fluster to shove him onto his side.

“HAH.”

You point in triumph at his back as he scrambles to pull the blanket over himself.

Gaze falling on the array of something on his brother’s back, Thor holds out a hand to summon mjolnir with a whoosh and a thud; he grabs Loki to push him onto his stomach before he can get away, and sets the hammer right on his butt.

“You have got to be joking.”

“Nice trick,” you tell Thor, clapping him on the shoulder before moving to stand beside Loki. “See? Told you.”

Thor moves first, stepping closer and reaching out a hand to poke one of the barely scabbed cuts on his brother’s back—you catch his wrist before he can.

“That’ll hurt.”

He can’t speak a word, silently staring at the plethora of half-bloody lashes striking across his brother’s skin. You can’t blame him.

“I hate every single one of you,” Loki announces from his pillow, still struggling to move. “You will pay dearly for this—”

“Yeah, yeah,” you cut in dismissively, “we know, you’re a big, tough, scary god. Now shush.”

You can practically hear him gritting his teeth together, no doubt holding himself back.

“So…someone did this to you?” Tony asks, cautiously scanning the god for other signs of abuse.

“No, I did it to myself, Iron Man.”

“Sorry, bad wording. Mind telling us who the hell we should be searching for, if it’s not you?”

“Thor, get your precious hammer off my arse—”

“C’mon, Thor.” You wave him over with a nod. “Let him talk to us when he can face us, I think he’s thoroughly humiliated.”

Thor removes the hammer, and you help Loki struggle to pull himself onto his pillows and face the rest of the group.

Most of the team has joined now, no doubt hearing the screaming matches from ten floors up, and sit sparsely around the little lab, waiting.

Finally situated, Loki draws in a slow breath, casting his gaze around the room at the somber faces.

You can’t help but notice when he makes eye contact with Clint and immediately gets a burning death glare in return—it only makes sense, after what Loki, or who you thought to be Loki, did to him.

“Talk to us,” you whisper, perching on the edge of his hospital bed.

The beeping from the heart rate monitor picks up in the slightest.

This time, you glance over to watch the little spikes get closer and closer together as Loki, the god of lies you almost killed, decides to tell the truth.

—

There’s a new air sitting heavy in the little room when Loki finishes, slumping back onto his pillows in defeat.

No one responds, and you don’t think anyone wants to.

To your surprise, Clint breaks the silence.

“No one should ever have their conscience ripped apart,” he states flatly, void of emotion and staring at the wall. “But you’ve got a long ways to go before you have my respect or forgiveness.”

That gets a couple nods scattered around the room.

“I am not asking for forgiveness,” Loki says, steeling himself. “And I certainly don’t need your respect. Just punish me, release me, kill me, make a decision.”

Steve stands with a slow exhale, gaze hard as concrete. “I think we need a moment,” he tells Loki, turning to nod to the rest of the team. “Thank you for your honesty. We’ll see to it that you’re healed, but past that…we’ll get back to you.”

Tony stands, too, shakey and deep in thought.

“Sorry you got pulled into this,” he says to you with a small smile. “But thanks for all your help. And thanks for jumping him, I don’t think he would’ve talked if you hadn’t.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” You point to the silent god next to you. “Thanks for believing me and letting him talk.”

Thor has yet to speak.

The rest of the team trickles out of the room, eventually leaving just the two of you and a couple guards stationed outside the door.

You certainly don’t want to talk first, so you slip off his hospital bed and wait uncomfortably by his bedside.

Not sure what you’re expecting, to be completely honest.

Maybe an apology for…everything, but your hopes aren’t too high.

Loki just picks at the palm of one hand, staring holes into the wall.

You clear your throat. “Well, I’m gonna go—”

“Thank you.”

That gets you to freeze. “Excuse me?”

“Thank you,” he repeats, still refusing to look at you. “I owe you a great deal.”

“I mean, I did try to kill you, so I think we’re even—”

“You’ve kept me alive,” he cuts in, “when I didn’t even want to be. That…annoyed me at the time, but if this is another chance they decide to give me, I–I suppose I owe it to you.”

It’s not an apology, but you’ll absolutely take it.

“Well.” Fighting back a smile, you drop your gaze to your hands. “Sorry for–for shooting you. And tasing you. And all that stuff.”

“Don’t be.”

A relieved breath lifts your chest and you give him a small smile.

“Mind if I stay a bit?” You point at the couch in the room, “I’m exhausted.”

He nods, fishing around in the blankets for his shirt again—it’s on the floor, but you find yourself deciding not to share that with him.

“Be my guest.”

You can’t help the sigh that leaves your lips as you sink into the cushions, as uncomfortable as they may be.

Maybe, for once, when you wake up, you can begin your normal life again, with no fake boyfriends and world-threatening secrets.

Then you remember you kissed a god last night.

Who’s still shirtless on a hospital bed, barely an arm’s reach from you.

“Loki?”

“What?”

“You passed out after I kissed you,” you grin, closing your eyes. “In case you didn’t remember.”

“And your point?” He doesn’t exactly sound happy to be reminded, but the beeping of his heart rate monitor speeds up again and tells differently.

“I gotta ask. If you passed out, how long has it been since—”

“Centuries,” Loki blurts much too quickly, and the beeping might’ve reached a concerning level. “Cut me some slack.”

“Centuries,” you repeat with a low whistle. “Well then.”

“It wasn’t because of that,” he assures you, wishing you’d just change the subject. “I was knocked out right afterwards by a guard, a fist straight to the head.”

“Right.” You smile at the ceiling, eyes still closed. “Definitely wasn’t the kiss.”

“Of course not.”

His heart rate hasn’t slowed.

Loki takes one look at the scribbled lines flashing furiously on the monitor and promptly rips the cords from his chest.

“Right.”

― ― ― ―

fuel the writer?

~ masterlist link in my bio ~

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424@fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas

~ breaking up the taglist to fix the scrolling problem! ~

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#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki angst #loki slowburn series #loki fluff #pre-dating idiots #loki requests #loki fanfiction #loki drabbles #loki laufeyson

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grlnxtdr30 · 3 years

Text

Come Back To Me

Day Three of the @klaineccfanficlibrary ‘s Valentines Challenge.

The song is I Knew I Loved You by Mateo Oxley

Come Back To Me

“Mr. Anderson? You can see him now. He’s resting comfortably for the moment, the surgery went well.”

Blaine nodded in gratitude to the nurse, and slipped into the room. The lights were dimmed, and the shadows seemed to be deeper than usual. The sounds of the machines monitoring his...fiance’s (were they still fiances? He couldn’t think about that now,) vitals seemed alien to him.

As he approached the bed and got a better look at the pale man laying there, he had to bite back a groan. They’d had to shave a patch of the beautiful auburn hair he loved so much. Kurt would have a fit over that when he woke up.

If…

No, he wouldn’t think like that. The doctor had assured him that while the injuries were serious, they weren’t necessarily life threatening.

He’d still been sitting in stunned disbelief under the awning in the pouring rain after Kurt had broken off their engagement, nearly an hour after the other man had taken off, when his phone had rang. It was a police officer. Kurt had been injured, and Blaine was listed as his emergency contact. Kurt had been unconscious when he’d been brought in, and still hadn’t woken up before being taken into surgery.

“Witnesses say the driver was driving erratically, most likely drunk. He didn’t bother to stop after he hit your friend.”

“Fiance,” Blaine had corrected reflexively.

The officer had merely nodded and continued. “Well, someone called police and paramedics right away, and fortunately knew some basic first aid. Probably saved your fri-fiance’s life.”

Before Blaine could ask the cop anything, the ER doctor had come out to speak to him. Blaine couldn’t remember everything the doctor had said. He’d heard the words concussion, ruptured spleen, and perforated bowel, and the word surgery, and the rest was a blur.

Now he sat beside the pale man, reaching out to brush a strand of hair off his forehead. At least the shaved patch was only on one side, and small. They’d used five stapled to close the fracture. Perhaps Kurt would start wearing his adorable hats again until the hair grew back in.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know you’re mad at me, and I don’t blame you. Maybe we are too young for marriage. Maybe we would be better off just friends. But I don’t know if I want that, Kurt. I don’t think I can survive in a world where you aren’t mine.”

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Kurt’s forehead, holding his hand. “Come back to me, please? Don’t you remember? You’re my missing puzzle piece.”

He rested his temple against Kurt’s, and began to hum, and then to sing.

Maybe it’s intuition

But some things you just don’t question

Like in your eyes

I see my future in an instant

and there it goes

I think I’ve found my best friend

I know that it might sound more than

a little crazy but I believe

I knew I loved you before I met you

I think I dreamed you into life

I knew I loved you before I met you

I have been waiting all my life

There’s just no rhyme or reason

only this sense of completion

and in your eyes

I see the missing pieces

I’m searching for

I think I found my way home

I know that it might sound more than

a little crazy but I believe

A thousand angels dance around you

I am complete now that I found you

The monitors beeped steadily, as Kurt lightly squeezed his fingers.

#klaineccvalentines2021 #klaine #Valentine's Challenge 2021

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stickyyfingr · 3 years

Text

you will see your beauty every moment that you rise ; 4

“I can’t take this, I feel so stupid, like I’m never gonna do anything right, and am I doing any better? I dunno, I’m never doing anything the way I wanna and I can’t figure it out no matter how hard I try, and, and--” Narancia starts to ramble, words and feelings pouring out of him like running water, but none of it is coherent between the hitching of his breath.

“Narancia, please, try to calm down,” Bucciarati rubs the boy’s back in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

narancia misses his mom.

read under the cut or on ao3!

it floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier

Narancia collapses face-first into his bed with a huff. He’s never felt so drained--at least not since joining Bucciarati’s team. He clutches a pillow to his chest, curling around it. And then, he buries his face in it and starts to cry.

Everything seems to spiral, hitting him all at once with the force of a barreling train. He’s been struggling to grasp the same basic concepts, and all day, he’s been failing. All he’s learning goes over his head, just above his reach, and right when he thinks he’s understanding he screws up. It drives him mad, and he knows it drives Fugo crazy, too.

And above all, Narancia misses his mom.

His grief over losing her has slimmed out with the passing of time, and he’s filled the holes left by her death and his father’s negligence with the family he’s acquired since. But sometimes, on days like these, he can’t help but wonder what life could’ve been if she’d never died. He rummages his mind in search of a memory of her, trying in vain to recollect the feeling of being in her arms, to hear the sound of her voice again. But she is little more than splotches of color and tales spoken bitterly over dinner by his father who sat across from him, despondent and cold.

Too busy wailing into his pillow, Narancia doesn’t hear the knock on the door. In fact, he doesn’t notice anyone’s entered the room at all until he feels something brush against his leg and flinches away in response.

“I’m sorry, I assumed you heard me come in,” a familiar voice, velvet and smooth, registers in Narancia’s head as Bucciarati’s. Immediately, he drops the pillow in favor of diving into Bucciarati’s arms. The man adjusts himself, sitting on the bed properly so as not to drop him. Gingerly, he cards his fingers through Narancia’s hair, another hand resting supportively on his back.

“Narancia, please, try to calm down,” Bucciarati rubs the boy’s back in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

Narancia’s tearful rambling turns into wordless sobs. Bucciarati doesn’t push, content to let him cry it out for as long as he needs, whether that comes with words or not. Still, it worries him to hear the way Narancia has to gasp so needily for breath, to feel his whole body tremble and jolt with his fight for it. Being unable to do anything but hush his cries and try to piece together the cause of them on his own leaves a sense of unease and helplessness in the pit of Bucciarati’s stomach.

“I just,” Narancia takes deep, shuddering breaths, but they’re breaths nonetheless and Bucciarati considers that to be a start. “It was such a bad day, and I’m trying my best, I really am, but I can’t figure out anything Fugo’s been teachin’ me, y’know? I feel dumb all the time, and I’m really, really tired, and…” his voice goes hushed, cracking on every word, “I miss my mama. ”

In that heartbeat, Bucciarati understands. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can still hear the beeping of a heart monitor and the sound of mechanical breaths. Suddenly, he’s seventeen again, running fingers through damp hair as the hollow feeling of loss sets in. Bereavement wraps cold hands around his neck. He inhales past the suffocating memory, exhaling in a hum of acknowledgment.

“I just don’t know what to do, Buch, and my dad just started hatin’ me after that and I keep hearing hospital noises and it’s all my fault and--”

“Shhh, Narancia,” Bucciarati slips back to lean against the headboard. “Nothing, nothing that happened to you was ever your fault. You’re alright. I have you now.”

Narancia wraps his arms tighter around Bucciarati’s waist. He is quivering against his chest, fingers tightly balled into fists as they grasp the fabric of his suit. Bucciarati holds him closer, carefully closer. He holds him in a way that he hopes solidifies the sentiment that he will not be letting go of him. He will not be going anywhere any time soon.

“I can’t do anything right.”

“Don’t say such silly things,” Bucciarati shakes his head. “You have done so much good as a member of this team. As a member of my famiglia. You light a dark room with ease.”

“It hurts so bad, Bucciarati, it hurts.” “I know,” Bucciarati’s voice dims to hardly above a whisper, but there is nothing but empathy in his tone. Incompetence settles deep within him. He cannot seem to think of the right words of comfort for something he’d never comforted within himself. After a moment’s deliberation, he adds, “I lost my father three years ago myself. Believe me, I know.”

Narancia looks up at Bucciarati for the first time today, teary eyes shimmering with more than hurt. Somewhere within the deep purple is a glimmer of admiration. Of hope, even. Narancia has known almost nothing about the past of the man he’s always had on such a high pedestal. To hear that he shares something like this in common with someone so strong, someone so good, is reassuring.

“It never gets easy,” Bucciarati smiles sadly down at the boy in his arms, “but it does get easier. And you have us now. I, as well as the rest of our team...we aren’t going anywhere.” For the briefest moment in time, Narancia seems to remember the feeling of his mother’s love.

#narancia ghirga #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #hurt/comfort #jjba #jjba fanfiction #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure fanfiction #jjba hurt/comfort #songfic #bucci gang

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Becoming A Stark (5)- Peter Parker X Stark! FemReader

Word Count: 2717

Author’s Note: Last Chapter before Peter is introduced to the story! Let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged.

Warnings: Mention of injuries and hospitalizations, swearing

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Masterlist

It took a few weeks to get used to living in the tower and you wouldn’t say you and Tony were close, but the other Avengers were helping make things normal for you. The one thing you weren’t getting used to was having FRIDAY now yelling out your blood sugars instead of JARVIS due to the whole Ultron thing. Pepper threatened to take you from Tony for that one, but that fight is a story for another time. It was the angriest you’ve seen Pepper ever get and hopefully, you don’t have to see that again any time soon.

“Y/N is 63 and dropping. Predicted urgent low in 20 minutes.” FRIDAY’s voice comes over the speaker as Natasha, Steve, Clint, and you are watching Once Upon A Time In Hollywood.

“FRIDAY, I got it.” You push up from the couch to walk to the kitchen, but watch the walls shift ever so slightly as you try to walk.

“You stay, I’ll get you something. What do you want? Juice? Cookies? Soda?” Steve stands from his seat at the end of the sofa.

“Juice.” You say. If you didn’t have hypo-unawareness, you would have felt this before you got so low, but you had bolused for all that good pasta Steve had made and must have made an opps when bolusing for it. Steve returns after a few moments with an apple juice box as well as a packet of graham crackers. You look at them puzzled, but take them with shaking hands.

“FRIDAY said urgent low in 20 minutes. That sounds like it needs more than just a juice box.” You don’t say anything but shrug your shoulders as you try to get the stupid straw into the juice box as your hands continue to shake.

“I got it.” Clint says as he pulls the juice box out of your hands. With a quick stab, the straw is in the box and he hands it back to you. “Perfect aim over here.”

“Whatever you say.” You mumble before sipping on your juice. To be honest, apple juice just hits differently when you’re low. You turn your attention back to the movie as you sip on the juice, but you don’t want to eat. You’re full from the pasta you ate not even an hour ago. So as the movie keeps playing, your eyes stop focusing on it, everything gets a bit blurrier. You rest your head on Natasha’s shoulder, hoping everything will clear up as you drink your juice.

“Y/N? I think you should eat these,” Steve’s voice sounds so far away.

“I don’t want to.” You mumble, turning more into Natasha’s shoulder, feeling sleep pull you in.

“Y/N?” Natasha, Steve, and Clint have stopped watching the movie at this point since you stopped responding. “FRIDAY what’s her sugars?”

“LOW Captain.”

“Call Tony.” Tony is at an SI meeting, but if he doesn’t hear about this, he will call any and all Iron Man Marks he has to fight them all. Reaching into the drawer in the table, Steve pulls out a blood sugar testing kit. Tony has stocked the house with them so that you are never more than a few feet away from them. Once you moved in, Tony also made sure that all the Avengers knew how to test your blood sugar manually. “Y/N I’m going to test you ok?” Steve asks, betting he won’t get a reply. Before he can, you start shaking and pulling away from Natasha.

“Steve, I think she’s having a seizure.” Clint says as Natasha and him roll you to your side, laying you flat on the couch. Steve helps to steady you, before testing your sugars.

“What is going on?” Tony’s voice comes over the speakers, knowing for any of them to interrupt him, it has to be important- meaning Avengers related or you related.

“Y/N is low. Very low.”

“How low?” The meter in Steve’s hand beeps.

“16.”

“16?”

“She’s having another seizure.” Clint says.

“Are we sure it’s another? It might be the same one?” Natasha asks and regrets it.

“Another?” In the background they can hear thrusters and they know that Iron Man/ your dad will be here soon. “You need her glucagon. There should be one in the living room, her bedroom, her backpack, and the med bay. It’s a red square, or well rectangle.” Out of the corner of her eye Natasha sees Tony land on the balcony and walk towards the living room. “Do you have it?”

“This?” Steve holds up the box. Tony takes it from his hand.

“Turn her to her side.” Tony says as he pulls the needle and pushes all the liquid into the vial. He stirs it together before drawing all of the liquid back into the syringe. “I got you bambina.” He whispers as he plunges the needle into your thigh.

Time passes slowly. Tony keeps checking and the number goes up slowly. 25. 40. 55. They had moved you to the med bay and Dr. Cho had checked over you, gave you some IV fluids and oxygen, but said that apart from rest and monitoring your blood sugar, there’s not much she can do. She did administer a bit more glucose through your IV since you haven’t come above 70 yet. You’ve been in and out of consciousness so Tony doesn’t expect you to remember anything of what you’ve said previously, especially since most of it made little sense.

“Where ‘m I?” you mumble as Tony does another blood sugar check.

“Med bay.” 92. Finally a good number.

“What happened?”

“You scared the shit out of me. I get what’s a good number now.” You look at him with confused eyes.

“What happened?” you repeat.

“You dropped to 16. Had a seizure or two. Passed out. Been here for a few hours. You’re finally in range again kiddo.”

“16? New record low.” you say.

Tony ignores that comment. “Might have taken a few years off my heart.” Tony admits.

“Thought you were supposed to be gone all weekend,” you say, not commenting on what he said. You mess with the knitted blanket that is covering your legs, not looking at Tony as the words sit in the air.

“My kid was in danger, SI can handle themselves. Promised you I’d be here from now on remember?” Tony says with a shrug. You look up at him, hearing the words he said. You were starting to think of him as more than just Tony over the past weeks when he had to go deal with Iron Man stuff. But tonight he left stuff for you. Because your blood sugar tanked. That’s like something Nana and Pops used to do for you. It’s something family does for each other.

“Is Pepper mad that you left?” You fidget with the IV in your arm. It’s not the first time you’ve had one and it probably won’t be the last time.

“How can I be mad at him when I left moments after him?” Pepper peeks into the room.

“But you’re the CEO?” Pepper walks from the door towards your bed.

“You’re more important. My assistant is taking care of everything that he can and everything he can’t will get postponed until later. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to focus until I saw you were ok.”

“Is it just because I’m the heir to SI?” You can’t help but voice the dark thought in your mind.

“Of course not.” Pepper says as she sits on the edge of your bed, taking your IV-less hand in hers. “I happen to care about you an awful lot. It doesn’t matter to me one bit that you’re supposed to take SI or not. I would be here.” Tony moves to sit on the opposite side from where Pepper sits.

“I know the circumstances of how everything happened wasn’t the best Y/N, but I love you a lot. And I would drop anything and everything for you.”

“Really?”

“I’m your dad. A dad does anything for his kid.” Tony wants to reach out and take your hand like Pepper did, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to, he doesn’t want to push too far too fast. But you reach for him instead.

“I’m not good at having a dad. At having parents.” You say honestly looking at both Tony and Pepper as you say this, hoping she doesn’t mind that you’re including her in this statement. “I had Nana and Pops sure. But that’s different.”

“I’m not the best at having a kid either, but I’m going to try my very best at it.” Tony admits. “How about we try this thing together?” He asks. “As a family?” He tacks on looking towards Pepper too.

“I’d like that.” You admit. “But only if Pepper stays to keep you reigned in. Because I can’t handle you on your own.” Tony laughs at that.

“Pepper’s here to stay if I have my way.” He says. “You and Pep. You're my family. Well and Platypus. And the Avengers. Only because they wrestled their way in.”

“I think I can settle for that right now.” You admit. “At least the you and Pepper part.”

“Still figuring out the lay of the land with the Avengers?” Tony asks.

“You jump from having almost no family to being told that you can have all of the superheroes in the world as your family and see how you do.” You roll your eyes.

Pepper squeezes your hand. “Take whatever family you feel is right. We’ll all be by your side when you need it the most.” All three of you sit there quietly for a few minutes before you realize something.

“No!”

“What?” Tony’s eyes are searching the room for a threat he can’t find.

“I missed the end of the movie!” Your voice comes out closer to a whine then you mean for it to. Tony’s hand rises to his heart trying to calm it back down.

“You were all watching a DVD. You can rewatch it later. Please give me 24 hours before you scare me again please. My heart can only take so many scares in one day.”

“You’ve got some visitors if you’re feeling up to it?” A voice comes from the doorway. You look up and see Steve, Clint, and Natasha looking in towards you.

“Sorry I ruined movie night.”

“If you think we’re here to make you apologize, you’re dead wrong.” Clint says.

“I think Clint is here to see your eyes do work without rolling into the back of your head.” Natasha throws out as she sits in the chair across from your bed.

“I thought you would think that was cool?” You ask, seeing as Clint is usually the one looking for things that are creepy but over the top.

“Not when it comes to someone’s kid. I got kids of my own. I never want to see that from you again kid. You got it?” Clint crosses his arms as he stands behind Natasha. “That was the scariest moment of babysitting I’ve ever had, and I’ve lived through two kids going through their toddler phases.”

“As long as I get the award…”

“Don’t even try.” Tony cuts you off. “I second Clint’s statement. Seeing your eyes go into the back of your head was not something I ever want to see again either so lets make that a thing on the ground rules of not allowed.”

“To be fair, I’m the one who’s food she gave insulin for-” Steve starts and you stop him before the words are even out.

“Don’t try to blame yourself. It’s very Captain America and all. But I can literally give the same bolus for the same food two days in a row and get two very different results. Diabetes just doesn’t give a shit. It does what it wants. So if you want to blame someone, blame my pancreas for being a shit team player and quitting back twelve years ago. The whole point of having Wallace is to try and catch this before it happens, but sometimes it still happens. It’s shit but that’s life.” You explain, and everyone’s eyes fall on you.

“How are you so calm about all of this?” Clint asks.

“Because it’s not the first time I’ve ended up in a hospital bed due to diabetes. And it’s not the first time it’s tried to kill me. Being diabetic, you come to terms that you’re playing with fire and you’re going to get burned. But as long as you don’t die, then the day is a success. Sometimes there may be more losses than wins, but you keep going. It’s something you come to terms with when you have a disease that isn’t going away because there’s no cure. You’re forced to come to terms with it.”

“Can I ask how many times you’ve been hospitalized because of it?” Natasha asks, looking up at you with a deep expression.

“Counting this? Uh….” You count in your head. “Let’s see. There was my diagnosis. I was this close,” You hold your fingers inches apart, “from falling into a coma from my sugars being too high. Then I got the stomach flu when I was six. Nothing would stay down, but my ketones went sky high. Next I got an infected pump site. Normally I would just take some Advil and hope it goes away but this one got bad. Was in the hospital for three days, on antibiotic drips. Then I spent my seventh birthday in the ICU with the flu. That was a blast. Ketones out the wazzoo. I just had no immune system. Then I got strep five times and had to get my tonsils out, but they were worried about infections and ketones and such, so they kept me in the hospital for a week. Eight and nine I lucked out and was only in the hospital once, for a really wonky pump site that shot me into the 900s. Luckily I was only in the ER for that one. Ten through thirteen, I was in the hospital every like six months it felt like with bad blood sugars. Fell into a coma twice. And it took like three weeks to come out of it. So that was a total blast. Missed a lot of school. And this year I have lucked out and only been in the hospital once besides this. Stomach flu, tried to get me again. On day two of nothing staying down, Nana took me to the ER. So… Thirteen? Oh wait, fourteen counting today. Wait does today count? I guess it does since I got an IV.”

“The medbay is like Tony’s private hospital so it’s essentially a hospital so it counts.” Natasha says with a nod.

“Ok, so fourteen times because of diabetes related stuff. But I also had three other non-diabetes times too.” All eyes are on you. You should have just skipped it, because now you’ll just have to explain it. “I broke my arm in first grade because a kid bet me I couldn’t walk across the top of the monkey bars. I made it all the way across but then slipped and fell at the end. Still he had to give me his GI Joe, so who’s the real winner? The incident in fifth grade. And then took a bet that I wouldn’t walk across the Brooklyn Bridge barefoot. Stepped on a nail. Had to get stitches.” You shrug.

“Hmmm, funny she sounds just like someone else who is stupid enough to take dares or I don’t know invite war criminals to their front door.” Pepper says looking at Tony.

“To be fair, you can’t blame that on me, because I was never there to tell her that taking bets is never the right way to go unless you know you’re going to win them.” Tony says with a smile.

“Technically, I won both bets. I got injured after both were over.” You brag.

“That’s my girl.” Pepper rolls her eyes.

“Why do I feel like I’m going to be chasing more trouble now?”

“I’ll keep an eye on her.” Natasha says from across the room with a smile.

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfic #Tony Stark #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #Pepper Potts #steve rogers #natasha romanov #clint barton #imanativeofswlondondahling #becoming a stark?

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ilovefandoms102 · 4 years

Text

Part 27

Summary: The Pogues can’t seem to catch a break...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie @ma10427 @outerbongs @lonely-kermit @agirlwholovescoffee @iamaunicorn4704 @gviosca @jellyfishbeansontoast @lasnaro @justcallmesams @lopineapples @fernweh-fangirl @runway-to-my-aid @tangledinsparkles @hurricane-abigail @eb15

AU:Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31

Note: Hope you guys enjoy! As always let me know what you guys think!

===================

I woke up to the sound of machines beeping, my eyes feeling heavy as I tried to open them. I looked around to see a hospital room, my leg was heavily bandaged, tubes running in and out of me, and the feeling of something heavy on my hand. I looked to the other side of me to see Kie holding my hand, Pope beside of her. JJ was nowhere in sight which worried me.

“Hey, how do you feel?” she asked, rubbing the back of my hand with her thumb.

“Sore, sleepy....where’s JJ?” I asked, concerned that he wasn’t right beside me. Kie looked at Pope, her expression somber. “Kie, where’s JJ?” I asked again, trying to sit up.

“We don’t know...” Pope said, my eyes widening.

“He went to go get you some other clothes...he never came back. I’ve called him and Pope has too, it goes straight to voicemail.” Kie said, brushing some hair out of my face.

“Where’s my phone, I’ll try.” I said, sitting up. My body protested, but I forced my muscles to cooperate. I called JJ, he picked up on the first ring.

“JJ? Where are you?” I asked worriedly.

“Angel, knew you’d be calling soon.” Barry said from JJ’s phone.

“Barry? Where’s JJ? What did you do to him?” I yelled, my heart monitor starting to beep from how fast my heart was going.

“You’ll get him back when I get my 25k Angel, he’s going to do some jobs for me. Not sure how pretty he’ll be when you get him back though in all honesty.” he said, I could hear yelling in the background.

“If you so much as harm a single strand of hair on his head Barry I’ll make sure you’re dead this time around.” I growled, gripping my phone tighter.

“Clock’s tickin’ Angel, better start digging up some cash. I’ll let you say bye to your boy .” Barry said, I heard shuffling before I heard JJ’s voice.

“Hey sweets” JJ croaked, his voice rougher than usual.

“JJ! Don’t worry baby we’re coming to get you.” I said, tears rolling down my face.

“I’m so so sorry baby, please just stay home. I don’t want you to get hurt anymore than you already are. Please, don’t try to be a hero for me.” he said firmly.

“I already told you Maybank, I’m not going another day without you. It’s you and me until the end Blondie. Sit tight we’ll be there soon, I love you.” I said, telling Pope to go get a nurse.

“I love you, be careful.” he said, the line going dead right after.

I put my phone down, staring at the wall. I saw Kie’s lips moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I ripped the covers off of me, swinging my legs off of the bed. I yanked the tubes and cords out of me, going to grab my clothes.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Kie shouted, trying to grab a hold of me.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here Kiara, JJ is in trouble. Barry has him and is going to torture him until we find 25k. I’m not wasting anytime, we’re going to make a visit to the Cameron’s.” I said, limping to the bathroom.

=====================================

Pope pulled up to the Cameron’s, we parked by a house beside theirs so the van couldn’t be seen. I got out of the van, turning to look at my friends.

“Ok, I’m going to try and make it in and out in 30 minutes. Ward has to have some cash in his house somewhere.” I said.

“What about surveillance cameras? They’re bound to have those.” Kie said, her look telling me that she did not like this plan.

“Way ahead of you, I brought these mini pliers so I could cut the wires to their electrical box. I remember the last time we were here, the box was just outside of Sarah’s room.” I said, showing them my mini tool. Kie huffed, sitting back in her seat.

“I don’t like this...” she grumbled.

“I can’t just let Barry torture JJ Kiara! He’s in trouble!” I exclaimed, not understanding why she was so against this.

“He’s the one that got us in this mess in the first place!” she shouted, Pope putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Kie, this is not the time to-” Pope said.

“Shut up Pope!” Kie yelled.

“So it’s ok to help my brother get out of trouble, but now that JJ needs our help you just want to let him be tortured by a blood crazy drug dealer? Got it.” I said, giving a thumbs up.

“I’m just saying I don’t like that we have to resort to stealing money from someone to bail JJ out,” she sighed.

“Technically we’re stealing from someone who stole from us, so it evens out the playing field if you think about it.” Pope rambled.

“Thank you Pope!” I said, Kie rolling her eyes at her boyfriend.

“You also just got out of the hospital, well, escaped from the hospital for being shot.” she said.

“I have to agree on those circumstances, you shouldn’t even be standing.” Pope said.

“Wish me luck,” I said, saluting them before taking off towards the Cameron’s house.

It didn’t look like anyone was home, I didn’t spot any vehicles outside their home. Rafe’s bike wasn’t in sight either, this was a good sign. I ran to the side of the house where Sarah’s room was, locating the electrical box. I opened it, tearing the insides out until I could see all the wires connecting to the house. I snipped every single wire in sight, having to use more force with the bigger wires. After that, I climbed the side of the house until I was at the window. The window was surprisingly unlocked, so I slid myself in with ease. My leg screaming at me, I could feel the blood pumping in my leg. The pain excruciating, but I had to ignore it. I had to save JJ.

I listened to see if there was any noise in the house, straining my ears to pick up any sound. I tiptoed to the door, being careful on the creaky parts of the floor. I peaked out of the room, seeing no one on the second floor. I ran to Ward’s office, putting my ear against the door to check for any signs of someone being in there. I slowly peaked my head in, looking both ways before fully stepping in the office.

I looked around to see if Ward was dumb enough to have the safe somewhere obvious, hoping that he was so this would be easy. Nothing in my life was ever easy though. I started to feel anxious, the thought of Barry, and no doubt Rafe, hurting JJ. I hoped more than anything that I would find JJ in one piece, but I needed to focus. I started to tear the place apart, pulling on shelves and books, looking under furniture.

I was starting to lose hope, until I looked back at the huge picture of Tanny. I had this feeling that I should look behind the picture. I walked over to it, running my fingers where I could reach. I heard a click, pulling back on the picture, and there it was. It was an eight digit code safe, seemed easy enough for me to guess.

I went through all his children’s, wife’s, and even tried his birthday. Nothing. Just for sport I tried mine and John B.’s birthday, starting to get frustrated. I turned to his desk, going through a bunch of his files on The Royal Merchant. I looked for an eight digit number that could give me a clue to what the code might be. I froze when I found a picture.

It was a picture of him, Scooter, and my father. Then something clicked, I turned back and tried the date my father went missing. The safe beeped, a green light flashing, and it opened. I was exhilarated, finding wads and wads of cash. I shrugged JJ’s backpack off my shoulders, stuffing all the money I could into the backpack. My phone started to vibrate in my pocket, my eyes widening at the message.

“GET OUT NOW! WARD AND RAFE ARE COMING IN!!!” from Pope.

I shut the safe, carefully shutting the picture frame. I opened the door to see Rafe and Ward coming up the steps, thankfully they hadn’t heard me. I quickly shut the door back, looking for a place to hide. I saw the space between a bookshelf, making a mad dash to it. I wiggled myself in just as Rafe and Ward walked in. I held my breath as I watched them sit at his desk.

“I don’t remember leaving my stuff out like this,” Ward mumbled.

“Can you please just call the electrical company so we can get the WiFi back.” Rafe huffed, pacing around the room.

“Don’t you have better things to do Rafe?” Ward asked, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Ward, it looks like someone hacked at the electrical box! What is going on?” Rose asked.

“What? I’ll come take a look.” Ward sighed, all of them heading out.

I let out the breath I was holding, coming out of my hiding spot. I scurried to the door, watching them go down the stairs. I stepped out, going towards Sarah’s room.

“Hello little Pogue,” Rafe’s voice came from behind me. I jumped, spinning around.

“Rafe,” I gasped.

“Come back for more?” he asked, smirking at me.

“I came for my money you son of a bitch” I sneered, taking off to Sarah’s room.

“Get back here!” Rafe yelled, chasing after me.

I jumped out of Sarah’s window, hurrying down the ladder. I sprinted to the front of the house, ignoring the immense pain in my leg. Rafe came out of the front of the house just as I made it past the front steps, catching up to me. I pushed myself faster, waving my hands at the van.

“POPE DRIVE!” I screeched, making my legs move despite them screaming at me to stop.

Kie opened the van as Pope took off, reaching out for my hand. I grabbed a hold of her, pulling myself in. Rafe was right behind me, grabbing the side of the door. Kie and I heaved at the door, the piece of shit getting stuck of course. Rafe tried to grab at me, I laid back and kicked my legs forward. I successfully got him in the chest, knocking him off the van. Kie and I got the door shut, both of us panting.

“Did you get it?” Pope asked, glancing back at us.

“I took the whole damn thing baby!” I cheered, showing the inside of JJ’s backpack.

“Oh shit!” Kie smiled, high-fiving me.

============================

We were back at the chateau, getting everything ready to go find JJ. I called JJ’s phone again, Barry picking up.

“Angel, you got my money?” he asked.

“All of it, now where is he?” I spat.

“Calm down Angel, you’ll get your boy back in no time.” he said.

“What do you mean no time? I got your money that’s what you wanted!” I shouted, pacing around the room.

“I’m not done playing Angel,” he whispered, my heart dropped.

“Barry, that boy has suffered enough because of Luke! Let him go!” I yelled.

“You see Angel, I don’t take kindly to people stealing from me. I’ll let you know when you can have him back.” he laughed.

“BARRY!” I screeched, the line went dead.

“NO!” I wailed, throwing my phone at the wall.

“What happened?!” Kie asked, coming to my side. Pope picked up my phone, bringing it to me.

“He’s not letting JJ go, he said he’s not done playing with us.” I sobbed, both of them hugging me.

“We’ll figure something out, we always do.” Pope said, always trying to be the optimist in the most awful situations.

“You’re right, we need to focus. We know where Barry lives right? Maybe we could go there and find a clue to where he’s keeping JJ.” I brainstormed, pacing around the living room.The front door opened, all of us turning to look. I stopped dead in my tracks, my mouth falling open.

“Hi bubba,” John B. whispered.

===========================

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mildlyemo · 3 years

Text

Can’t You See Me? - Chapter 1

These eyes were not looking through me... they were looking at me. For the first time in one thousand years, a pair of human eyes had seen me. All I could do from then on was "hope it's just a painful dream”.

"What a boring schedule," I scowl, looking at my departure log

I slip in and out of the hospital walls. There's a reason why I leave this location until the end of my shift. Because there always has to be a ridiculous amount of deaths.

Stroke

Cancer

Old age

COVID-19

I've seen it all, far too many times for me to count. The smell of disinfectant has been ridiculous since late 2019, and it's starting to really piss me off. At this rate, I'll have to extend my shift for at least 12 hours. Just to look for all the souls that are about to be confused by its fumes.

"The final death of today, floor 14 room 147," I sign

I float through the door and head straight towards the hospital bed, ignoring the insignificant surroundings. I have a straightforward job to do, move the soul on to heaven, hell wherever, as long as they don't linger on earth. Otherwise, I'll have a nasty case of hauntings, which is meant to be considered supernatural, written off as fiction. As soon as humans believe in the supernatural, the devil and his loyal underlings start to cause trouble.

"Choi Lee Go, time of death 10:47 pm, cause of death old age,"

"Ready to go Choi Lee Go?" I ask, looking up from my

clipboard

The woman looks confused, not surprising considering she just died. I'll consider myself lucky her soul wasn't full of vengeance or sorrow.

"I'm Azrael, and I'll be leading you to heaven unless you want to pick hell instead," I say, hoping to shorten the process.

"Yes dear," the woman finally expresses, smiling warmly

I release the tension residing in my hands as I watch the staircase to heaven appear seamlessly. I offer the woman my hand to help her up. However, she is determined on climbing the stairs herself. What a pleasant surprise; I pluck a pitch-black feather from my wings and console my clipboard.

1. No regrets present ✅

2. Emotionally stable ✅

3. Aura of happiness ✅

4. Supposed grandson watching myself

Wait…

I take my attention away from the clipboard to finally analyse the hospital room. A family member is beside the deceased. That's not anything unordinary. However, what is unordinary is the fact that Choi Lee Go's grandson is looking at me. These eyes were not looking through me... they were looking at me. For the first time in one thousand years, a pair of human eyes had seen me. I look down at my clipboard. My face is currently disguised with light; this person may not be able to see my face; however, he sure as hell can see my body, my wings, and supposedly his grandmother. I can't linger any longer. I quickly tuck my clipboard away and signal my wings to take flight. I am leaving the human world behind at least until tomorrow arrives.

Yeonjun's POV

"Is it 10'o'clock already, dear?"

"It sure is, grandmother,"

I sit idly beside my grandmother, admiring the flowers I had brought as a gift. The environment was astoundingly calm. While my grandmother constantly acted as if she didn't worry about the world, I could see she had become tired. I doubt raising a second child single handily was ideal for herself, especially without her own daughter's support, who had decided to run away for the states carelessly. I gently cradled my grandmother's frail hand. The calm environment made me feel uneasy; I barely felt the presence of other spirits around me.

"Dear, don't you have school tomorrow? So you should get some rest," Grandmother nagged from the bed.

"I don't like being in the house alone... you know that grandmother," I whine in response listening to the beep of the heart monitor the ticking of the clock.

"Yeonjun-ah, do you have meat in your fridge?”

"Does the heater work still? I know that it hasn't been working the last couple of months properly," she continues.

"Why are you worrying about this now grandmother, just rest. You don't need to worry about me. I'm 17 now, after all, basically an adult," I reassure her holding back tears.

"Alright, well, if you think that you're so grown up, I'll just be quiet now,”

I chuckle softly in response. Even at a time like this, she still keeps up her facade of control.

"Now Yeonjun-ah, I want you to know that you must live for yourself from now on, don't worry about other people. I want to make sure that you can live a life that you are proud of and a life where you never have a reason to be sad,"

"What's with you, grandmother? It's not like you're going anywhere," I respond, continuing to battle back tears.

"I'm going to sleep now, Yeonjun-ah. But, make sure that you get enough sleep tomorrow, or I'll be mad," she finally says, squeezing my hand.

"Of course I will, grandmother," I respond by her side

And just like that, the last family member that was ever known to me faded away or perhaps was blinded away?

I'm no stranger to seeing spirits. It's what I would consider a quirk of myself. It's pretty simple to ignore the spirit, and the most trouble it can cause is blocking your view of the bus numbers. However, in addition to grandmothers spirit, I experienced something quite literally angelic. First, a blindingly bright light appeared before my eyes. Then, behind the light, all I could make out is a thin silhouette clouded by a pair of deathly dark wings... an angel? A second flash of light appeared no more than twenty seconds later, and the angelic silhouette disappeared. Dazed by its sight, I look down. Grandmothers body is as expected, right beside me. Her spirit, however, was gone.

Hello dear readers! Welcome to my brand new work 'can't you see me?' I truly hope you have enjoyed it! This is my first time writing in a while, and by that, I mean at least one year now. Finding time to write is nearly impossible in year 12 😭. I am unsure what my writing schedule will be like. It will most likely depend on how this chapter goes read & vote wise. So if you would like to read another chapter of this work, please vote and comment on what you think will happen next!

Finally, some MTBI details of the characters we know so far :)

* Azrael - INTJ

* Yeonjun - ENTP

(this list will continue to grow as the story continues and will be available in the chapter before this)

Endless love from,

LVM 🖤

#txt #tomorrow x tomorrow #yeonjun #beomgyu #kai #soobin #taehyun #fanfic #fanfiction #kdrama #kpop

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clumsyclifford · 3 years

Note

I came across a list of "ridiculous sentence starters" that I decided were actually too ridiculous to use as prompts but there was one that had malum potential: "so I may have accidentally adopted 5 kittens"

absolutely inspired as usual, meghna

read it here on ao3

Michael’s text says NO BIG DEAL BUT CALL ME WHEN YOU CAN!!! X and the kiss is capitalized, so Calum decides it’s at least a little bit of a big deal and calls.

The first call goes to voicemail. Calum likes leaving annoying voicemails for Michael, so when the beep sounds, he says, “Mike, you absolute fucker, why should I call you if you’re just going to send me to voicemail? Do you love me or not? Am I going to have to break up with you? Is this the end? ‘Cause it feels like the end to me, Mike. Also, I’ll be home in about five—”

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Calum says, rolling his eyes and smiling. “You interrupted my cute voicemail I was leaving you.”

“Oh, cool,” Michael says, obviously having heard nothing of what Calum just said. “So, listen, you’re on your way home, right?”

“Yeah, I was saying I’m like five minutes away.”

“Brilliant,” Michael says. “Great. Um, well, before you get here there’s, uh, something that…has happened in the house. There’s a new addition that was not there before. That you should probably know about.”

“Did you buy another monitor? You don’t need more than two, Michael, honestly.”

“No, nope, not a monitor.” Michael mutters something that sounds like I wish and then he’s back on the line. “Look, don’t freak out, okay? There’s a perfectly decent explanation. I swear.”

It’s not that Calum doesn’t trust Michael, he does, but whenever the words “don’t freak out” come into play, there’s a small part of Calum that immediately begins freaking out.

“Okay?” he says hesitantly, slowing to a stop at a red light. “Well, you better tell me quick, because I’m about to turn into the neighborhood, so…”

“So,” Michael says, picking up the thread. He clears his throat. “So I may have accidentally adopted five kittens.”

At which point Calum really has to wonder how this became his life.

He blinks as the light turns green and makes the left into their neighborhood. “I’m really not sure which part of that sentence to start with. Accidentally?”

“Yes,” Michael says. A beat. “As in, I didn’t mean to but I did.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the definition of an accident,” Calum says dryly. “I’d love to know how you accidentally adopted five kittens.”

“Well, you know how I’m kind of really bad at saying no?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Calum says, turning right. “Okay. I’m gonna hang up, process this, and when I get home in two minutes you can explain it to me.”

“Sorry,” Michael says, which somehow does not feel like the right thing for him to be saying. It’s followed by, “Love you,” which is a lot better, and after Calum echoes the sentiment, the call ends.

A minute later, Calum parks the car in the driveway, grabs the groceries from the backseat, and locks the car. He bustles through the front door, calling out for Michael as he does.

“Hi,” Michael says, smiling nervously at Calum like he thinks Calum’s really going to be cross about the kittens thing.

Calum rolls his eyes. “I don’t care about the kittens, babe, I’d just really like an explanation.”

Michael sighs in relief. “Okay. Well. That’s good.”

“Also, can I, like…meet them?” Calum glances around; the living room looks roughly the same. “Where are they?”

Michael nods. “They’re in the guest room for now. I don’t know, it felt like the right place for them?”

Calum sets the bag of groceries down, even though he really needs to get dinner started — hence the trip to the store — and follows Michael to the guest room, which is suspiciously silent.

“I think they’re asleep,” Michael tells him in a low voice, “so don’t be noisy.”

Inside, the kittens are all curled up in the corner of a big cage which Calum knows for a fact is a new purchase, considering they’ve never had any reason to own a cage. Two are white, one is grey, one is black, and one is black and white, and they’re all napping with various limbs tucked into or on top of or underneath each other. Calum has always considered himself a dog person, but at this sight his entire heart melts into liquid gold.

“Oh,” he whispers, slowly kneeling to get a better look. “Oh my God, they’re so cute. They’re so cute.”

“I know,” Michael whispers back. At the sound of speaking, one of the white kittens opens its eyes, casting a sleepy glance at Calum. It doesn’t seem terribly bothered to see him, because after a moment of Calum holding his breath it closes its eyes again and huffs quietly.

Calum is going to die. They’ll put cuteness overload on his cause of death and he’ll be mocked for years to come.

“We shouldn’t wake them,” Michael whispers, and Calum agrees. They back quietly away from the cage and exit the guest room. Michael shuts the door softly behind him.

“So we have five kittens in our custody,” Calum says. “Very adorable kittens, but kittens nonetheless.”

“Yes,” Michael says.

Calum raises his eyebrows. “Care to explain how?”

“Yes,” Michael says again. He bites his lip. “No. Well. Long story short, I am very bad at saying no to things, and the woman at the pet shop was extremely convincing. And also said that I seem like I would be a great cat owner, which I would, Calum!”

“You will be,” Calum says. “You had better be, because you now own five cats.”

Michael grins. “I know! I know that’s fucking insane, but whatever! We’re adults. We can just have cats.”

“I don’t know anything about taking care of cats,” Calum warns him as he makes his way back to the kitchen. “I’ve only ever had dogs.”

“That’s okay, I’ve done lots of reading,” Michael says confidently. “Plus, we get to name them and I know you love to name things so I figured you could help.”

Calum shakes his head bemusedly. “Did you come up with all kinds of ways to sweet-talk me into letting you keep the cats? Why didn’t you think I’d just be okay with it?”

“Because I did it without consulting you first? Because we live together and I’ve just introduced five new living creatures to our environment?”

Calum sighs and pauses in the midst of putting away groceries. He turns to Michael. “Mikey, you’ve wanted a cat for, and this is a rough estimate here, about a hundred million years. This isn’t, like…how I expected it to go, but I’m not mad or anything.” After a moment, he adds, “I mean, you’re not wrong. It would have been better to talk about it first. And also to probably not end up with five rather than one. But.” He shrugs. “Whatever. They’re cats. They’re easy to love and easy to care for.”

Michael beams. The kitchen lights up with his smile. “This went so much better than I anticipated,” he says, grinning ear-to-ear. He throws his arms around Calum and presses a kiss to his cheek. “You’re gonna be a great cat dad. I know you say you’re a dog person but that’s just because you’ve never had a cat before.”

“I was never a dog person at the exclusion of cats,” Calum says in his defense. “What are we gonna name them? Do you have any ideas? How many girls and boys are there? Also could you cut these carrots?”

Michael obligingly does as he’s told. “They’re all boys. And.” He chews his lip. “I wanted to see if you had any ideas first.”

The face Michael’s making indicates that he very much has an idea, and Calum has only known about the kittens for like ten minutes, if that — hardly long enough to come up with any solid name ideas. He gestures. “Nah, I want to hear yours.”

“You sure?”

“It’s just an idea, it’s not set in stone. I want to know.”

“Okay, well, I thought we could name them after the One Direction boys.” Michael grins. “You know. ‘Cause there’s five of them, and…”

Calum laughs harder than he expects to. “Oh my fucking God we are absolutely doing that, yes. That’s incredible. That alone makes it all worth it. Who’s who? Liam and Louis are the white ones, right?”

“That’s what I was thinking!” Michael says, also laughing. “Then I thought the black one would be Harry, the grey one would be Niall — because he was always on the fence, remember, like a grey area? And then Zayn would be black and white.”

“I love it,” Calum says, snickering as he puts the last of the groceries in the fridge. “I fucking love it. It’s fantastic. And so fitting.”

“Thank you,” Michael says. “I was pretty proud of the idea.”

“Well,” Calum declares, grabbing the knife dangerously out of Michael’s grasp and pressing himself against Michael’s side to stand at the cutting board, “we are officially cat fathers, Mike. How does it feel?”

“Feels good, honestly,” Michael says. “I’m really glad you’re not cross.”

Calum gives Michael a smile. He can’t imagine being cross about something like this, not when it’s obviously making Michael the happiest man alive. The joy is radiating off him in waves. Far be it from Calum to stifle that.

“You get the eternal privilege of dealing with the litter box once we get one, though,” he informs Michael, who just nods solemnly, like this was a responsibility he’d expected to take on. Calum grins and kisses his cheek. “You’re going to make a fantastic cat dad, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Michael says. “I’ll be the cool dad, and then you can be the dad who seems like he’s really strict but actually gives them treats when I’m not around.”

Calum just shakes his head, smiling fondly. He lets Michael chatter on about plans for where they’ll sleep and what kinds of toys to get them and which ones he suspects will be the most playful, and every second falls more in love with the idea of a lifetime of pets and shenanigans with Michael.

#michael clifford #calum hood #malum #malum fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #no offense but UGHGHGNFHGJ that fucking trope of urghurughu boyfriend did One Thing without asking and now he's Afraid Of My Reaction #is SO STUPID #and i am done with it #sometimes relationships are actually built on trust you know!! and not everything is going to go according to plan and that cannot be a dea #anyway. not to get political in the tags of a malum fic #'political' she says #writing this was kind of a relief in a way #i just sunk right back into the mindset of bella from june #who was churning out prompt fics left and right #and did not care about the Universe any of them were set in #that bitch would write just to write #and i think that's really what i did with this #it is 1.6k yes but if it wasn't that length i wouldnt be me. so.#anyway this is going in the queue so i suspect it's gonna post the day after the rilex #and like i said in the tags of that one: the link will probably take you to an ao3 draft #unless i'm around when this posts. in which case i will Post The Draft asap #just in general nobody worry about anything okay? cool #q #reveriesofawriter #ask #answered

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colehasapen · 3 years

Text

(ONE SHOT) ranov'la STAR WARS

Fives hits the ground running, his heart pounding in his ears and the truth of what he had learned weighing heavy on his shoulders. It’s like a collar around his neck, dragging him down like he’s running through a bog.

When he’d first started his desperate investigation into Tup’s mysterious actions and death, he’d never imagined this.

The Chancellor of the Republic is the mastermind behind everything. He was pulling all the strings, and everyone had just been a piece in his game - all the brothers Fives had lost, all the death and suffering, it was all Palpatine. The Chancellor was behind everything. He was the one behind the War, behind their cloning, and behind the chip in their heads that would be used to kill the Jedi if Fives couldn’t get his intel into the right hands. It was all a game, one that had turned into a session of hunt-and-hunted as the Chancellor sends the Coruscant Guards after him.

They’d be aiming to kills, Fives knows, because to them he’s just a single renegade clone who just tried to kill the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. They’ll have been made aware of Fives’ rank as a highly skilled ARC Trooper, and Fives knows enough about their training to know what it will mean - the Guard will be shooting first and asking questions later because fighting an ARC Trooper head on, even one with a CT designation, would easily spell the deaths of them and their brothers if Fives was actually a threat. And that was without considering the possibility that Palpatine hadn’t already activated the chips in the heads of the Vode of the Guard to ensure that Fives would die on Coruscant and no one would listen to the truth.

Force, Fives had really stepped in it this time. Echo must be cursing up a storm in the afterlife over his recklessness. He should have gone to the High Generals first, like General Ti had suggested. He should have left the information with someone he trusted in case of this very situation. He should have turned on his comm and broadcasted the Chancellor’s arrogant confession across every open channel in the GAR.

He should have done a lot of things. It’s the story of his life really.

So Fives runs, and keeps running. He needs to find somewhere to hunker down and plan, and try to ride out whatever drug the damned Longneck had dosed him with. He won’t be able to plan his next move if he can’t stay focused, no one would believe him either if he came up to them drugged out of his kriffing minds and acting erratically. He needs somewhere to rest and recover, and to try to reach out to some trusted brothers who might believe him.

It’s when Fives ducks into an abandoned and rundown warehouse many levels down from the planet’s surface that he realizes that he wouldn’t be able to contact anyone from the 501st. That’s what would be expected of him, and would put his brothers in danger if they were being monitored. To reach out to any of them would mean casting the entire Legion in a suspicious light and would possibly mean bringing the wrong kind of attention onto them. Rex was probably already in interrogation, being his immediate superior, as would Jesse and Kix, being the two living brothers Fives was closest two. He didn’t want to bring more attention to them, but who else did he have?

Commander Blitz? No, he wouldn’t want to hear from him after Fives had plowed through Rancor Battalion, even if he hadn’t killed any of them. He had lost so many in the Battle for Kamino that he took any attack on his men as a person slight, and would hold a vicious grudge, even against one of the ARC Troopers he had trained personally. Besides, he must have already left the planet after dropping Fives off on General Ti’s orders, and would be too far away to help even if he wanted to.

Commander Doom was still mourning the loss of one of his Generals and didn’t deserve to be dragged into this mess so soon after General Tiplar’s funeral. He needed to be there for his surviving men and remaining General, and the truth of General Tiplar’s death would put him and the rest of his broken Battalion in danger.

Commander Cody was his best bet. He and the 212th were scheduled for shore leave, and his connection with Fives wasn’t as well known. To the outside eye, Commander Cody was the perfect Marshal Commander, and didn’t have a close bond to anyone in the 3rd System Army to avoid favouritism, though everyone who knew him was well aware of his soft spot for Ghost and Torrent Companies. He worked with enough Commando squads that no one would question it if he disappeared for a few hours without warning, because of his role with SpecOps. Cody could get him in contact with anyone he wanted, he had eyes and ears everywhere, and if anyone could get Fives’ information to the Jedi, it was Commander Cody.

The downside? Fives didn’t know where Cody would be during shore leave. There was a reason why his personal Company was called Ghost, and it wasn’t because they were superstitious - the man could disappear scarily well for a guy in bright orange, and the only people Fives had ever seen actually know how to track him down were General Kenobi and Captain Rex, who seemed to have a sixth - or seventh, in the General’s case - sense dedicated solely to locating Commander Cody at any given time.

A clatter draws Fives out of his plots, and the ARC Trooper goes carefully still, reaching slowly for the closest thing that he could use as a weapon if needed. He curls his fingers around a rusty pipe, and strains his ears, listening for the sound again. There it is, closer this time, and Fives slowly lifts himself to his feet, pushing his body deeper into the shadows offered by the crates he was surrounded by. He stays predator-still, forcing himself past the fuzziness of the drugs in his veins, and keeps himself from shaking through years of intense training and an iron will.

A Trooper in red steps into the large warehouse store room, and Fives almost wants to curse. He knows that paint job - everyone does.

It’s Commander Fox himself.

Fives tightens his hold on the pipe, wishing that he hadn’t ditched his stolen blaster. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to lessen his threat level, but if the Chancellor had activated the Guards’ chips, then they’d shoot whether he was armed or not. At least Fox seemed to be alone. Even drugged as he is, Fives thinks he could hold his own against the Commander, as long as he could catch the older clone by surprise.

Commander Fox prowls through the room, helmet swinging as he searches and Fives forces himself to calm down. He forces himself to slow his breathing, and even his heart rate as he wills himself to blend into the shadows, horribly glad that he had ditched the white plastoid armour about three levels up.

“Building’s clear.” He hears Commander Fox reporting, “Moving on to the next grid.” Fives releases a slow breath, eyes on Fox’s back where he stands mere meters away from where the ARC hides-

-and then, because Fives has the worst possible luck in the history of terrible luck, he sways, vision graying out for the shortest of moments. The pipe in his hands impacts the nearest crate with a dull ringing sound, and the noise kriffing echoes in the empty warehouse.

Commander Fox stiffens, and Fives watches in slow motion as he begins to turn. He panics. Next thing Fives knows, he’s crossing the short distance between them in a rush, lifting the pipe as he goes. Fox is nearly facing him, and Fives swings, catching the Guard Commander in the side of the helmet with enough force to crack the old metal.

Commander Fox crumbles, bucket dented, and he doesn’t get back up. Fives wheezes, adrenaline shaking his limbs more forcefully than even the drugs managed to, and he stares at the limp Commander in shock.

“Well, shit.” He says softly, but with a lot of feeling behind it. “Damn.” The pipe clatters when he drops it, and Fives kneels beside him to carefully pull the helmet off. Commander Fox’s temple is already swelling, bruises already beginning to darken the skin, and part of his forehead had actually split open under the force of the blow and was bleeding sluggishly. Fives winces, pressing his sleeve to the wound to stem the flow, “I’m so dead when you wake up, aren’t I?” He asks the unconscious Trooper.

He should go - he should move on, but Fives doesn’t want to leave the Commander here where anyone can come across him. Doing so could very well be signing a brother’s KIA report if the wrong sort finds him.

“I’m so kriffed.” Fives mourns, staring at the limp CC. There goes any chance to hunt down Commander Cody -

Wait.

His eyes pause on the comm around Fox’s wrist, sucking in a shocked breath. His heart flutters in excitement, and Fives reaches forward to pry off the Commander’s vambrace. “Fives you mad genius.” He says into the silence. A few crossed wires should do the trick to cut off any chance of the comm being tracked - Crys had taught him all about it during a mission with the Ghosts behind enemy lines. Commander Fox would have Cody’s frequency; Fives had seen it himself that all the Commanders had person lines to each other to stay in contact when they could.

This was perfect - a chance coincident that he had never expected to fall into his lap. All it had taken was bludgeoning a Marshal Commander over the head, and - well, fuck it - Fives was already wanted for treason, may as well add assault of a Superior officer to the list. What was a little bit of near-murder between friends saving the Galaxy?

In his hands, the comm beeps as it connects, and Fives almost cries with relief when Commander Cody answers.

“This better be important, Fox.”

#star wars #fanfiction #cole writes #whumptober 2020 #no.17 i did not see that coming #arc trooper fives #commander fox #commander cody

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