#and they’d be grown and raised in the tubes they were made in

[clonememesfrikyeah]

You know what would be the worst? If at the end of the war when all is said and done, after the clones lost every little thing they had, after Vaders rise and the Jedi’s fall, after all that death and hardship and misery? It would be terrible to be a clone and wake up like suddenly coming out of a coma, in a stasis chamber that they grew up in and rarely left, there was the craziest dream just before and there’s the lingering feeling something important just happened, this is Kamino 35bby, all the information they were just fed is already neatly stored in their perfect flash-memory brain. No ones died yet, all of that was a simulation based on a calculation of events to instal orders and hone the discipline of troops. It’s dark, there’s no way of telling if anyone or anything exists beyond the boundary’s of the inside. There’s a designated call sign and designation along with vitals displayed in the line of vision, it’s also counting down the seconds to when a new simulation is set to begin.

#as like a fanfic idea tho #how high am I? this high: #it’s like a matrix kind of deal #because even though the body is under the conscious mind is awake and active fully living years of time in minutes #and they’d be grown and raised in the tubes they were made in #never leaving until peak physical maturity has been achieved and there let out to learn physical skills #like building muscle and reflexes and social interaction and all that #imagine the new level of fucked up that would be #the clones would be robbed of literally everything #it’s also like everything everywhere all at once #the clones neural pathways and connected through wires so they get the same brain response they normally would when normally interacting #WTF am I even talking about no one is going to care about this this is random nonsense #tcw #the clone wars #Designation CT-7567 Call sign R-E-X slated rank Captain track 406 group 501 #and the entire war is one big simulation #only the prequels are cannon and everything is Freeform for all #so the clones lived a different war every couple minutes while in hyper growth tubes for 5 years so they learned from so many mistakes #this is me making the clones spartan like in an attempt to make them immortal because they would be the perfect weapon and person #imagine how crazy smart and unshakable they would be #clone troopers #the clones #captain rex #commander fox #commander wolffe #the prequel trilogy #arc trooper #star wars legends #the clone wars 2003 #rep com

[darling-i-read-it]

Not Fun Dreams

Dalton Lambert x fem!prophet(esc)!reader

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: insidious 5 spoilers, some angst, canon level events/violence (descriptions of the readers visions as violence and never being good), shared trauma, a lot of unedited fic lol 

Author’s Note: This ended up a LITTLE LONG good lord lol. I just kept going! I hope you enjoy love, it ended up being a little less angst then I wanted to have some sort of preunderstood relationship. ALSO i made up the art school dalton goes too because I couldnt’ find the name or remember if it was mentioned. When will this movie be available to watch whenever i want smh. Anyway, enjoy!

Requested: by anon, your dalton fics were amazing and if you’re still in the mood to write for him i got an idea! dalton with a prophet esque reader. maybe not full out but maybe they have dreams or in certain places they can see what will happen there but doesn’t get the full event ( mostly negative/horrific things because this is the insidious universe and nobody can have nothing). id imagine they’d be more reclusive than dalton because even though they’re both obviously very traumatized reader constantly has to see these horrific things and not know how to stop them. knowing possibly from a young age where you and the people you love will die. the trauma bonding. the protectiveness. imagine the drama if she knew the whole time he could astral project and didn’t tell him, like being childhood friends and going to the same college as you saw something in a dream (one of the dorm scenes) and are trying to prevent it. i’m an angst girlie through and through and this movie made me worst. please don’t feel pressured to write at all, and i hope you have a great day/night! 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

When you were a kid it was much more simple. It made far more sense to you when your imagination was stretched as far as it could go. It was clouded by the guise of childhood, never knowing what was supposed to happen and what wasn’t. You figured that when you went to sleep and pictures flipped in your head piercing like a migraine, everything was normal. Your parents told you it was just dreams, even when the dreams started to get darker. You saw flashes of people’s faces, drenched in fear as they faced something unknown. The nightmares got worse. You insisted they weren’t nightmares. Children dealt with weird things all the time. 

It helped when the boy next door flew away in his sleep. 

Everyone must have these little gifts then right? All the children had a perk that slightly scared them, one they told their friends about that their parents didn’t pay much attention to. 

You’ll never forget the day Dalton moved. He left the house he had grown up in so that his parents could move somewhere bigger, somewhere to raise the new baby. You remember his little face, matching yours. You had never had a friend you cared for so much. It felt like the world could be taken on when you were with Dalton. 

“Are you sure you have to go?” you asked, quietly. You knew the answer to the question, even then. You had had an awful nightmare the night before. You had seen flashes of Dalton in bed, tubes surrounding him, IV’s in his arm. 

“My mom says so,” he muttered. You were hunched together in the corner of his house. Now empty, it seemed much larger. You didn’t like being in places that seemed to be experiencing change. You saw enough change. 

“But I’m worried,” you whispered. “Something might happen to you in the new house.” Your voice was hushed. Even then, you knew it was no use in telling his parents. No one would believe you. But you had to warn him because if anyone trusted you, it was Dalton. 

“Maybe it’s just another one of your not fun dreams,” he said quietly. He had gotten used to protecting you from them. You were often shaky when you woke up. He had seen it after a sleepover, cold sweats dripping down your petrified face. “Not one that would come true.”

You had known the lady down the street would trip down the stairs and die three weeks prior. But no one cared to check with the little girl who had silly prophetic dreams. 

“But what if it isn’t.” You pouted, a genuine pout. Dalton put his hand on yours, in a way only children could do. The most innocent of gestures. A sign of good faith. 

“I’ll be okay.” Even then he didn’t believe his words. He had been wandering further and further out in his dreams. You told him to stop, that it scared you. He insisted they were nothing like your dreams. His weren’t real. 

“You ready to go guys?” Josh Lambert asked. He walked up behind you, carrying a book at his side. 

“You’ll call right?” you asked quickly, suddenly overcome by emotion. Dalton nodded eagerly. 

“We’ve got your number, don’t worry,” Josh assured you. “We won’t be that far, right Dalton? Just down the road.” Dalton wanted to disagree but he didn’t. He just nodded, not ready for you to leave his house. Not ready to leave it himself. 

“I’ll call everyday,” Dalton promised. 

After a couple weeks he stopped calling. Your parents wouldn’t tell you why. Just that he couldn’t come to the phone. You could see him in your dreams, desperately lost and you had no way of helping him.

-

You woke up with a start. 

As you grew up the dreams started to become less violent. They were always violent in nature but sometimes you could wake up and not feel panicked. You looked at your bedside table, the orange bottles staring back at you. Some were for panic attacks, some were for general anxiety, some to help you sleep. You debated taking one, wondering if you could stick it out for the day. The thought was quickly dismissed. 

You had dreamt of Dalton. 

You hadn’t dreamt of Dalton since you were a kid, since you lost touch. The memory of it became so blurry over time. There was no way you could have blamed him for it. In hindsight you blame your parents and the cycle of time. You went to different schools and there was no reason to stay in touch because you couldn’t ever see each other. 

You grabbed your phone off the side of your bed. You hadn’t seen much. 

Dalton. Older, taller, handsomer. A full man now, though you weren’t sure why you were surprised. A school, the name of the school just barely on the tip of your tongue. You wrote down everything you remembered furiously. The feeling of dread. A familiar creeping of darkness that you couldn’t quite place. Your dreams were sporadic. Whatever you had dreamt of could still be months out. 

You got out of bed and walked down the hallway. You were packing for school yourself, eager to leave by the end of the week. The car was almost packed with most of your things. 

You reached for your parents phone book. They kept it beside the fridge, even though it was ancient and most of the numbers were outdated. You had given them grief about it before. Everyone had numbers saved to their phones now, what was the point of a phone book?

You ate your words as you flipped through the pages, looking for Lambert. Sure enough, both Renai and Josh were separately listed. You reached for your phone, trying Renai first. 

It rang for a while, leading you to believe the number might’ve been wrong. Then there was an answer and a kind voice spoke on the other end. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi! Is this Renai Lambert?” 

“This is her. Who is this?” 

“Hi Mrs. Lambert! This is kind of weird but my name is Y/N. I used to be friends with Dalton when we were kids?” There was a beat of silence and then a laugh, one you remembered well. You had always liked Renai. She was endlessly kind, always offering you lemonade when you came around. You could still hear her playing songs on the piano while you and Dalton ran around their house. 

“Y/N! Oh goodness, it’s been a while hasn’t it? Why are you calling now?” You smiled, happy she remembered you. 

“I just randomly dreamt of Dalton last night and hadn’t seen him in years. I was wondering if he still lived with you or if I could talk to him?” 

“For sure! Gimme one second.” She moved away. You could hear a muffled call for Dalton. The phone returned to her ear. “How have you been?” 

“I’ve been good! I’m going to art school at the end of the month,” you offered. 

“Really? So is Dalton! Oh, here he is!” There was a moment as the phone was passed along. You cleared your throat. 

“Hello?” 

“Dalton?” There was another beat of silence. You thought maybe he didn’t remember you, which would be slightly awkward. You would have to re-explain everything before he would even believe a word that came out of your mouth. Then he spoke. 

“Y/N?” You let out a breath of relief. 

“Yeah.” He scoffed and you could picture him shaking his head in disbelief. 

“What’s up? Are you okay?” Still the same protective boy he had been when you were kids. 

“I had a dream about you last night and I wanted to call, see if you were okay.” Another moment of silence. You wondered if Renai had left the room.

“A not fun dream?” he asked quietly. You nodded, looking down. 

“Yeah.” You could hear Renai in the background. 

“She’s going to art school too.” 

“Really? Where are you going?” 

“Western. Not far from home, at least, where home used to be.” 

“Me too,” he breathed. “Who would’ve thought?” You bit the inside of your cheek, wondering what it would be like to be back with Dalton again. You had never felt so understood like when you were with him. 

“When do you leave? We should meet up for lunch.”

-

Dalton Lambert had gotten tall. You noticed that first when you saw him. He stepped right out of your dreams and onto his dorm room flooring. You had just missed Josh who had eagerly scurried away. Your parents had left you too. Now you and Dalton were finally in a place where you could hang out away from adults, which was a weird feeling when you were together. 

He had texted you his room number and you knocked on the door. When it opened, he hugged you. It wasn’t awkward or weird. In fact, it felt like you had finally come home. 

“How are you?” you asked. 

“I’m okay,” he promised. He ushered you in. “I’d be better if you told me what your dream was about.” You shook your head. 

“It was just you being here.” 

“You have good dreams now?” You shook your head. 

“That’s the whole thing.” He gestured for you to sit at his desk or at the empty bed beside his. You sat down on his bed anyway, putting your feet up to your chest like you were a child. “I don’t. But I remember feeling bad when I woke up, like something was coming.” You looked over at him. “How are you? How are your dreams?”

He paused for a moment, like he was glitching or buffering. You tilted your head. 

“Dalton?”

“My dreams are fine,” he answered finally. “Not nearly as interesting as yours.” You nodded slowly. That wasn’t exactly the answer you were expecting to get but you trusted him to open up when he was ready. “So do you think somethings gonna happen?” 

“I don’t know. I think I’ll know more later,” you promised, though you only half believed it.

“The last time you dreamt about me I went into my coma,” he said quietly, cautiously. He opened up to you quickly, knowing what it was like to be friends with you when you were a kid. There was something so special about being known before you even knew yourself. 

“I know. That’s why I found my parents' phonebook and called your mom.” 

“At least you’ll be closer this time around,” he suggested. “You’re welcome to hit me in the head if I start drifting off when I’m not supposed to.” You laughed gently. 

“Good to know.” You looked up at his wall. He had started to put drawings up. His mom was in the one above his pillow, at her piano. She looked just like you remembered her. “How is she?” you asked. Your eyes scanned the room. “Oh man, how is Foster? Cali?” 

“Good, good, they’re all good,” he promised, laughing a bit. “My parents got divorced a couple years ago. My dad is slightly losing it.” 

“As all dads do.” Your eyes scanned the wall. There was a picture of his brother. Another of his grandmother, who you only met every once in a while. Above her was a picture you recognized. It was you. You when you were a kid, in a room you no longer remembered. “Is that me?” He cleared his throat. 

“Your call had me looking through pictures.” You glanced at him, smiling a bit. 

“I loved your house so much. It was like a second home to me.”

“It was a first home to me.” You rolled your eyes. 

“We have so much to catch up on. Tell me everything. I have nowhere to be.”

-

Dalton’s room became a second one to you. It was serendipitous, moving from swapping houses to swapping dorm rooms. The transition felt comfortable and seamless. His roommate Chris moved out because she was a girl so you mostly got the room to yourselves. 

A couple weeks in, he started to have nightmares. Nights where you recognized the look on his face when he woke up. It was the same look he had after he had wandered too far, daring you to go with him. When he woke up he looked just like a kid still. Big wide eyes, confused. 

You sat on the spare bed. Dalton had fallen asleep half an hour before but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. There was nothing wrong with just falling asleep there. You had done it before and you would do it again, waking up to his alarm for his early class. 

You laid your head down on the pillow, scrolling on your phone. The night had fallen, indicating that you should let yourself drift off into sleep. You raised your head a bit, wondering if you could easily find one of Dalton’s shirts to wear to sleep instead of your uncomfortable day one. You should’ve asked him before he fell asleep. You stood up lazily, rubbing your eyes. The room was only illuminated by the nightlight at Dalton’s side. He had fallen asleep with a pencil still in his hand, his sketchbook still out on his side.

You groggily slipped the pencil out of his fingers, putting it on the desk. You grabbed his sketchbook, looking at what he was looking at. It was still just lines on a paper, soon to be something beautiful. You put it aside. You were about to turn around when he woke up with a start. 

He lifted his head completely, almost ramming into you. You jumped, startled. 

“Woah!” you exclaimed. He was breathing heavily. He looked up at you, eyes wide. You met his gaze, almost positive what had just happened. “Did you wander off?” 

“What?” 

“In your sleep. Did you project?” He was silent for a moment, still trying to catch up on whatever it was going on in his head. He didn’t say anything for a second, staring at you with bewildered eyes. “Dalton?” 

He finally opened his eyes up to speak but was cut off by a loud screeching. You put your hands over your ears, wincing. The fire alarm was going off. Dalton scrambled out of bed, looking at the door. He rushed forward, pushing it open. 

Down the hall, all the other students were leaving their beds. Most were still muddled with sleep, wearing nothing but their pajamas. You peeked your head out behind him. He grabbed your arm and started to bring you down the hallway to the stairs. It was too tight for everyone so his grip was iron tight, weaving through the confusion. You pushed through the door to the stairs, moving with the herd down. You glanced back, trying to find the source of the confusion. 

You emerged outside into the night. It was freezing. The group dispersed into the courtyard, everyone looking back to the building you had just left. You brushed against Dalton behind you, who had finally let go of your arm. You couldn’t see anything in the building, nothing to indicate a reason everyone was leaving. 

“Do you see anything?” you asked him. He shook his head. 

“No.” You shivered, suddenly very aware of how cold it was. 

“Maybe it was a drill,” you suggested. He nodded slowly, not wanting to argue as his eyes scanned the building. 

Someone was yelling something in a megaphone you couldn’t make out. You tried to find the source of the voice to no avail. 

“What are they saying?” 

“False alarm,” he said, like it wasn’t a question. You furrowed your brows. 

“How can you hear that?” 

“I pulled it,” he said, finally. You turned around to look at him. 

“How? You were right there with me the whole time.” 

“I did it in my sleep.”

“If you knew it was a false alarm, why did we come out here?” 

“Because I wasn’t sure.” His voice sounded far away. You looked back at the building, completely safe in the backdrop of the night. You turned back to him. His look was dreary and unreadable. “You should probably go back to your room,” he said, voice still far away. You tried not to take that badly. It just seemed random. 

“Okay,” you said quietly. “Are you okay Dalton?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You nodded slowly. People started to pass you, going back inside. 

“Want me to walk you back up?” “I’m okay,” he assured you, some of the life returning to his voice. 

“Alright…I’ll see you tomorrow?” He nodded quickly and started to walk into the crowd. 

-

The next morning you woke up in a daze. You couldn’t quite remember what happened the night before, all of it glossing over your memory like a blur. You grabbed your phone off the side table, your roommate still snoozing away. You had a text from Dalton and a text from Chris, his old roommate. 

Taking Dalton to that frat party tonight. Wanna come? 

You opened that one up first. Dalton at a frat party? You almost snorted. You hadn’t been back in his life for very long but it didn’t seem like his vibe. You opened Dalton’s text next. 

Sorry about last night. Had a weird dream and woke up weird. 

You texted him back immediately. 

No worries. Are you really going to the frat party tonight? 

Almost immediately a little bubble showed up in the white box. You laid your head back down on the pillow. It felt like you had only taken a nap because of the weird in between moments. A text came from Dalton. 

Supposedly. Chris wants me to go. Do you wanna come? 

You glanced at your calendar. 

I have a test in the morning, I think I’ll pass. Thanks for the invite tho :) Try not to get too drunk! 

You opened Chris’s texts back up too to answer her as well. As you were typing out your response, Dalton texted you again. 

Are you sure??? I could get lost, drunk and suggestive. Who would protect me from the onslaught of potential girls? 

You rolled your eyes harder. 

Chris will! 

You turned off your phone to get ready for the day. 

-

You sat on your bed in your dorm room. Your eyes were dropping off to sleep, phone down on your comforter, computer open as you looked at reference pictures. Your sketch book was open, though it didn’t have anything except the bare bones of some sort of idea. You hummed to the music coming from your phone, mind wandering from your work. 

Your roommate had gone to the same frat party as Dalton. You were by yourself tonight as the sun dropped. It was becoming more clear that you just wanted to go to sleep tonight to wake up rested for the test. You picked up your phone, pursing your lips as you tried to decide if giving up homework was worth it for the night. You had no new texts from Dalton or Chris except a picture from Chris’s phone of the two of them there. You smiled a bit. Dalton looked awkward and out of place. It was good that he was branching out. 

Finally you set your things aside. There was no use in trying to do any more work when you were still catching up on sleep from the night before. 

As you placed your head on the pillow a simultaneous pierce through your skull erupted. You grabbed your head at the familiar feeling. Usually you only got visions when you were asleep, waking up to some sort of horrific memory. 

A bathroom. It felt cold, like ice, like the ground hadn’t been stepped on by humans in years. A boy was there, his face shrouded by the toilet. He gripped the sides but his hands didn’t look real. Something was wrong with him. You couldn’t tell what it was. The sound of the door opening, a creek, a sudden stop. 

You dug your nails into the skin on your forehead, willing it to stop. It had been so long since you were awake when this happened. 

Before it subsided you could see Dalton in the doorway. The dread returned, the same dread you had when you were a kid and he was moving away where you couldn’t protect him. You let out a breath that you had been holding. Your hands were shaking. 

Usually you wrote down what you saw, quickly jotting down things you could remember. Typically nothing would stand out for you to take immediate action. This time you jumped out of bed, quickly putting on slip on shoes. You were wearing shorts and a hoodie, clothes to sleep in, when you ran down the stairs. You had never been to the frat the party was at tonight but there were still fliers everywhere and you assured yourself you would find one. 

Thankfully, right on the pole outside of the building was a green poster with the address. You knew where Greek Row was, not more than a five minute walk from your dorm. You turned towards it and started to run. 

By the time you got there you were already exhausted. You crashed through the door, entering a chaotic scene. There were people everywhere, ramming into each other, sloshing drinks on people’s clothes, too drunk to care. You scanned the crowd. You pushed through people, to the staircase. There were people hanging out there, leaning against the railing, leaning against each other. You walked upstairs, searching for a bathroom. The doors were mostly locked. 

You ran right into Chris, leaving the bathroom. You peeked inside but it wasn’t the one from your vision. 

“Woah! You decided to come after all! What are you wearing?” 

“Where’s Dalton?” She gestured to a door down the hall. You rushed towards it, almost tripping over yourself. You swung the door open. Dalton was on the ground, half under the bed, face filled with fear. “Dalton!” He snapped his head back up at you and then back in the air. There was nothing there. “Did you..did you see that?” 

“No.” 

“There was something-” You fell to your knees beside him, helping him out from under the bed. 

“What did you see?” 

“A kid in the bathroom. There was someone in the bathroom and he was-”

“Dead.” Chris emerged at the door frame. 

“What are you guys talking about?”

“Have you been astral projecting lately?” you asked him, voice low and serious. His eyebrows furrowed. 

“Have I been what?” You stared at him for a long time, unsure what he meant. Maybe he just didn’t want to say anything in front of Chris. 

“Dalton come on.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said and he felt honest. He grabbed your hand, willing you to believe him.

“When we were kids you could walk around in your sleep. Your soul left your body or whatever.” You paused, trying to read his face. “You don’t remember?” 

‘No,” he said, honestly. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Chris repeated. 

“We should go,” you said quickly. “We’ll talk back at the dorms.” You helped Dalton up. 

-

Though she protested, Chris left the two of you alone in Dalton’s dorm. The explanations coming out of his mouth weren’t something she trusted and she trusted you to make sure he went to bed alright. Though she did feel bad for dragging him along, unsure if the drinking had something to do with his abnormal reaction. 

“We have to call your parents,” you said as he sat down at his desk. He shook his head. 

“I can’t.” 

“Yes you can. They know what happened here and why you don’t remember it.” You hadn’t known everything about Dalton being in a coma but you didn’t expect him to remember nothing of it completely. He detailed not even remembering being sick. They moved into the new house and then the rest of the year was nothing but a blur. 

“I wouldn’t believe you if I hadn’t just seen it,” he breathed. You grabbed his phone off the table, opening it up. “Wait-” 

“No wait. We have to call your mom. She’ll know what to do.” 

“But this could just be something completely normal. You said I could do it before I went into my coma.” 

“And then you went too far, Dalton. I don’t actually know how far too far is but I know you’re already too close to it.” You held up the phone for him. “Call her.” He looked at you, eyebrows knitted. He looked at the canvas at his desk, completely covered in black, a red door created at the edges. There was something at that door he couldn’t remember anymore. He set his jaw and grabbed his phone. 

“I don’t think this is gonna help.” 

“Put it on speaker.” 

The phone rang for a moment but no longer than that. Renai answered quickly. 

“Hello? Dalton?” 

“Hey mom.” 

“It’s nice of you to call,” she said, half jokingly. “How are things there? Are you settling in nicely?” 

“Yeah mom, that’s not really why I called.” He gave you a look as you sat beside him eagerly. “I’ve been having these dreams and Y/N said you might know something about that.” 

The line was silent for a moment. 

“What kind of dreams?” 

“I can see my body when I leave it. Like I’m walking around in this other world.” 

“Is Y/N there?”

“Right here Mrs. Lambert.” She paused again. The tension seeped from the phone. You met Dalton’s eyes. 

“Mom?” 

“Maybe I should just come up there and talk to you in person. Can Y/N stay with you until I get there?” 

“What? Mom, you don’t need to come all the way up here.” Shuffling came from the other line.

“It’s too hard to explain over the phone. I’ll be there in the morning.” 

“No, mom.” He took a deep breath. “What happened? Tell me now.” His hands were wrapped tightly around the phone. He had grabbed your hand. You couldn’t remember when. 

“You and your father don’t know,” she said quietly. “We made it so that those memories were suppressed. I don’t know how it came back.” She shuddered. “When you were in the coma you went somewhere Dalton. For three months, we lost you.” 

“Where?” 

“A place called The Further.” Her voice was gravely serious. He stared at the ground. The name sent shivers down his spine, like all that repressed childhood fear came back. “You got lost there and things tried to take your body. Your dad went back to find you and…something else came back instead of him.” Dalton looked at the door painting on his desk. 

“How do I stop it?” 

“I don’t know honey. I’m coming down.”

“What about dad? What if he’s going through this too?” 

“I’ll get your father. We’ll come together.” Dalton had nothing to say to that. It must be serious if they were going to stay together for a long period of time like the drive up to school. “Stay with Y/N.” There was a beat. “I love you Dalton.” 

“I love you too mom.” 

She hung up the phone. For a long time you just sat there in silence. You hadn’t ever gotten those answers before, the ones you had only gotten glimpses of when you were a kid trying to sleep. 

“I remember the demon trying to get you,” you whispered. “He was dark…with red,” you said. “I had nightmares about him for months. I kept seeing him get closer and closer but no one believed me.” 

Dalton looked over at you, his look unreadable. 

“He’s trying to get me again,” Dalton muttered. “I can feel him.” 

You shook your head. That was the last thing you wanted to hear. You stood up, letting go of his hand. 

“This is bigger than us. There’s this whole other world and you’re going to it and it’s so close-” 

“But if I don’t go to it then-”

“Are you gonna stay awake? Forever?” Dalton shut his mouth. “Repressing the ability didn’t work so what else is there to do but enter the place?” You shivered. Just the memory of your visions sent chills down your spine. “I haven’t seen the demon recently. I’ve just seen you.” 

“Maybe that’s a good thing.” You nodded. You paced, unsure what to do with all the fear in your body. “We just have to wait till the morning, then my mom will be here.” You both knew that might not solve anything. Still, you nodded. There was nothing else to do but wait.

 “I’m staying here with you.” 

“I don’t wanna be alone anyway.” He shook his head, voice far away. This dorm had started to become a safe haven, despite the places your brain went when you were asleep. It felt much better than your own dorm with the roommate you hardly knew. You’d likely be getting a text from her in the morning, wondering where you were again. 

You sat back down on Dalton’s bed. 

“Are we gonna try and stay awake all night?” He shook his head. 

“If I wake up I’ll just stay right where I am.” 

“That sounds easier than it will be.” It was already late, nearly midnight. You were tired and your heart was starting to slow down now that the problem didn’t seem as pressing. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes but it didn’t do much.

“Are you ready to sleep now?” he asked. You nodded. 

“I really thought I was gonna go to bed early tonight. Looks like I’ll be skipping the test in the morning.”

“I don’t want you to do that. I’ll be fine by myself.” You shook your head. 

“No way. I’m staying here until your parents show.” You yawned. “But I should probably go to sleep soon.” He glanced at the bed on the other side of the room. He knew you would go there automatically if he didn’t say otherwise. He couldn’t exactly explain it but he would just feel safer if you were closer to him. 

He could explain it but suddenly that feeling was scarier then wandering off into The Further. 

“I’ll take that b-”

“You could sleep with me.” You raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. Without so much as a beat you answered. 

“Okay.” He let out a breath. You got up. “Scoot over then.” He looked up at you and your willingness to be so close to him.

“I’ve gotta change.” 

“Then change.” He stood up, walking to his drawer. He shuffled around in there for something acceptable to wear. Usually he just wore his boxers and a shirt but suddenly that felt so revealing. He could see you in the corner of his eye, getting under the covers and getting comfortable. 

You tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal to you that he asked even though your heart was in your throat. 

“Don’t look,” he said. You made a dramatic gesture of covering your eyes. He took his shirt, facing away from you. You peaked between your fingers, admiring his back as he quickly slipped the other shirt back on. When he undid his belt you covered your eyes again. 

“You can stay awake,” you offered. He turned off the lamp on the desk, leaving only the nightlight. He moved the blankets aside so he could sit beside you. 

“I’m exhausted from finding out my memory was erased.”

“It sounds so dramatic that way.” 

“What would you say?”

“Hypnotism.” He put his head against the pillow, facing you. It was rare you were at eye level. 

“That’s dramatic too.” 

You sat there in silence for a moment. You hadn’t seen his face so close to you since you were kids. It was just like the sleepovers you had when you were a kid, just a little less innocent. 

“Are you scared to fall asleep?” he asked, voice a whisper now.

“Sometimes. Tonight I am. I don’t wanna dream about you.” He should be feeling awkward, being so close to you. Instead he felt more comfortable than ever. 

“Then don’t.” 

“I’ll give it my best effort.” Your eyes were so heavy. They closed without you even thinking about it. 

“I’m gonna be awake a little longer. I think I’m gonna sketch.” 

“Okay Dalton,” you whispered and it sounded so incredibly childlike. He sat up a bit, leaning against the headboard. He grabbed his sketchpad off the table. You nuzzled your head into the pillow. “Do you mind if I use you as a pillow?” you asked quietly. 

“No. Not at all.” 

You moved forward a bit and then your head was on his lower chest, arm over him. He put his hand over your back and suddenly sketching seemed much less important than making you comfortable. 

“Goodnight Y/N.”

-

Neither of you had set an alarm. 

Renai and Josh showed up early at 7 the next morning, the sun still slowly coming up. Renai knocked on the door, antsy to see her son. She had explained everything to Josh on the way over. He was pleased to find he wasn’t crazy. 

The knock went unanswered. She took a deep breath and knocked again. 

“You don’t think it’s unlocked do you?” she questioned. Josh tried the doorknob. It opened with ease. They shared a look. 

The other bed was still unused. Laying in the other bed was you and Dalton. You were on his chest, a pencil lazily in his fingers. He was hugging you with both arms, cheek pressed against your head. 

Renai couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. 

“They’re okay,” she whispered. Josh nodded. He wanted to smile at the sight. It felt right. 

“Should we wait for them to wake up?” 

Renai couldn’t help but feel unhappy when Dalton slept. Even years later, whenever he slept in, she was checking on him constantly. 

“They’ll understand.” She approached him, sitting at the edge and nudging his shoulder. He groaned. He was okay. He was there. You nosed your face further into his chest. 

Neither of you had any nightmares that night. Your sleep was as black as it should be, consumed by each other's arms.

#dalton lambert x fem!reader #dalton lambert imagines #insidious the red door spoilers #insidious imagines #dalton lambert fanfiction

[itsclydebitches]

OFMD Party Drabble #9

Prompt: Symbolism (with bonus idiom!)

A/N: I didn’t get the chance to write a section of this yesterday, so I thought the final installment should have both days’ prompts :D Part One, Two, and Three

“You take this every day, mate? Fucking boring if you ask me.”

Edward slid low enough that his long legs (damn him) just barely touched the seat across, nudging the bit of gum stuck there with the toe of his boot. Izzy slapped his knee and motioned him upwards right before a businessman can barreling through, too busy looking at his phone to catch the leather obstacle in his path. Izzy shot Edward The Look™ and made a mental note to clean his boots when they got home. Honestly, sometimes it was like raising a child more than it was dating a grown fucking man.

But then Edward swung his legs over Izzy’s lap instead, grinning lasciviously, and just like that any thoughts of cleaning or time outs were forgotten.

Fucking handsome prick.

“You couldn’t pay me to sit on that death trap, Edward, let alone ride it. And yes, I take the tube every day. To the job I’ve had for over twenty years. In your restaurant. In the city where we’ve lived our entire lives.” 

Edward shrugged. “Still fucking boring. I’ll get you a Kawasaki for your birthday.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

Izzy already knew what he was getting for his birthday: some nonsense purchase that Edward picked up in a panic on his way home, an hour of entirely unnecessary apologies, and then a night of thoroughly indulgent, mind-blowing sex. It happened every fucking year. Edward always went in with the best intentions and then inevitably lost track of the date, that brilliant mind of his too busy with important matters to remember if it was the 1st or the 2nd—or if either of those were even Izzy’s birthday. He didn’t care and being the planner of the two, Izzy got to playfully rub it in his face on occasion, privately enjoying the blushing, spluttering mess Edward became when he did. It was the little things in life, truly.

Idly, Izzy wondered what Stede was like with birthdays. They’d likely find out soon enough.

After receiving the video, Edward had finally gotten over that absurd block of his and texted Stede, violence acting not such much as an icebreaker, but a goddamn rocket launcher that tossed them both into a virtual bonding session that would put any teen magazine to shame. Edward now knew the names and dating partners of all Stede’s interns. Stede had sent over tutorials for Edward to learn to braid his hair. They’d swapped recipes, childhood memories, custom emojis, made plans to snag lunch at a local tea place... honestly, Izzy might have been jealous if Edward hadn’t been running up to him every five minutes, shoving his phone in Izzy’s face to share the nonsense.

And, of course, if calling Stede hadn’t been his idea in the first place.

“Look,” Edward chuckled. He flipped his phone around to reveal some weird GIF playing. It looked like a man talking to a seagull. Izzy squinted at the contact.

“Are you texting Stede again?”

“Uh huh.”

“Edward, we’re meeting him at the restaurant.”

“So?”

Izzy opened his mouth... then shut it. Alright. Fucking fine. Far be it from him to reassert social niceties like not chatting through every halfway decent topic before they’d even gotten through the appetizers.

...Not that he counted weird bird-man GIFs to be an appropriate first date conversation.

Izzy knocked his head against the window. “What the fuck have I gotten myself into?”

Edward snickered. “You love it.”

“Do I? Fucking do I, you lunatic? Because I swear to god, Edward, if you two idiots think you’re gonna gang up on me, I—”

Oh. Shit.

Speak of the devil.

Izzy straightened, accidentally knocking into Edward who listed with a squawk. Fuck, but he should have realized this was a possibility, given that they’d ended up on the same route before. Because there was Stede, stepping into the car with that goddamn smile on his face—no doubt caused by whatever Edward had just texted back.

Then Stede looked up and caught his eye. Izzy had the ridiculous impulse to smooth back his hair.

“Stede!”

Edward was up, scrambling, knocking into him this time, and Izzy watched with an indulgent huff as his two fools met in the middle, clasping hands like two 18th century ladies meeting up after some long absence. Technically speaking this was the first time Edward had ever met Stede face-to-face, but you sure as fuck wouldn’t know it based on how they were touching. Resigned to refereeing the PDA all night, Izzy stood and gave Stede an awkward nod.

“You okay?” Izzy asked.

Shit, he’d planned to ignore that little mishap, but something about Stede’s smile, combined with that scarf he wore on an otherwise muggy night, had Izzy’s hackles rising again. With a rueful look, Stede tugged on the scarf to reveal a small burn spanning his neck. Nothing terrible—certainly not by his and Edward’s standards—but vicious looking nonetheless. Edward made a sound like a kicked cat.

“She’s being charged with assault, if you can believe it,” Stede said. He shot Izzy another winning smile, the fucker warming him straight down to his bones. “Plenty of witnesses, of course, but the recording you found will help immensely.” Then Stede leaned close, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “I cannot believe you punched the Badmintons!”

“Is that those fuckers’ name?” Izzy drawled.

“Oh yeah, Iz is real good at punching people,” Edward put in. He mimed a one-two that had Stede rearing back before settling on a laugh. “Anyone else gives you trouble, just call him up. He’ll set ‘em straight. Or crooked, if we’re talking noses and bones.” Edward grinned—a less than kind expression.

Izzy just nodded. It was the truth after all.

“Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind and—oh! Right!” Stede suddenly began rummaging around in the same stupidly ornate bag of his, what sounded like a whole house’s worth of shit rattling inside. “I got you both a gift as a ‘thank you’ and—ah! Here it is.”

From the depths came two identical key-chains: lighthouses, complete with sea-spray and a shining light.

“Whoa, thanks!” Edward cried, already clipping it onto his phone.

Izzy stared at the little sculpture. It was stupidly detailed for what should have just been a touristy bit of plastic. Besides, “I told you I’m not a fucking sailor, Stede.”

Edward whacked him over the head.

“Hey!”

“Rude, mate.”

“You fuckwit, I’ve already got a headache!”

Stede just laughed at their antics, one hand coming up to rub anxiously at the back of his neck. “No, Izzy’s right, Ed. I realize it’s a rather strange gift and... oh heavens, this is going to make it sound even worse, but I swear I mean it in the least, uh... creepy way possible?” Stede flinched at whatever had flit across Izzy’s face. “Well, you see, the lighthouse was a symbol between my ex-wife and I, a romantic one. At least it was supposed to be. ‘We will be as lighthouses to one another, beacons through the hardships of life...’ The priest’s service was actually quite nice, just not when it was given to two people pressured into the marriage. To make a rather long story short, I came out, Mary and I divorced, we have brunch every Sunday and she’s always been adamant that I should re-appropriate the lighthouse for whoever I do love and...” He gestured helplessly towards the key-chains, then jerked like he’d been given an electric shock. “Not that I’m saying we’re in love yet! I just wanted to thank you and had such high hopes for this date and I—”

“Stede,” Izzy said. “Stop talking. I love it.” Love you, probably. Fuck. “Edward loves his too.”

Edward just let out a low whistle. “Wow, is this what it’s like talking to me? Fucking crazy, mate.”

He slung an arm over Stede’s shoulder and guided him towards a seat, teasingly pinching the blush in his cheeks. Izzy followed, slipping the key-chain onto his own phone case, and then stealthily snagging a pic of the two of them in their first embrace. He had no idea, of course, that in a week he’d already have that picture printed and framed, sitting in his office at the Bar & Grill. Or that in less than a year Edward would drag that old bit of red cloth from their closet, the one he’d always planned to tie their hands together with in a civil union, stroking it gently with hope in his eyes. Or that six months after that Izzy would have two rings on his left hand, fitted perfectly against one another.

Or that through it all, a stupid lighthouse key-chain would still be the thing that made his heart skip several beats.

Fucking tube rides, Izzy thought as Edward’s laughter lit up the car, Stede’s following right after. Then, fond: As if I’d ever take a Kawaski over this.

What he had was already perfect.

#OFMD #Our Flag Means Death #SteddyHands #GentleHands #BlackBonnet #OFMD Party #OFMDfic

[eretzyisrael]

Development of synthetic embryo models from day 1 (top left) to day 8 (bottom right), when all their early organ progenitors had formed, including a beating heart, an emerging blood circulation, a brain, a neural tube, and an intestinal tract.COURTESY WEIZMANN INSTITUTE

Lit from below by the microscope’s soft glow, the translucent mouse embryos looked exactly as they should. On day 3 they began to elongate, from spheres into cylinders. On one end, the neural tube started to fold around day 6, on the other a tail began to bud. By day 8, a beating heart began to circulate blood through vessels forming around the embryo’s yolk sac.

But these embryos weren’t the product of an egg and a sperm. They weren’t even growing in the uterus of a female mouse. They were developed inside a bioreactor, and made up entirely of stem cells cultured in a Petri dish.

The experiments, performed at the Weizmann Institute of Science in Israel and published Monday in Cell, mark the first time researchers have grown fully synthetic mouse embryos — that is without the use of sperm or eggs — outside the womb.

The advance opens up new avenues for studying how stem cells form various organs in the developing embryo and better understanding how certain mutations drive various developmental diseases. It also raises profound questions about whether other animals, including humans, might one day be cultured from stem cells in a lab.

“As soon as the science starts to move into a place where it’s feasible to go from a stem cell population in a Petri dish all the way through to organ development — which suggests one day it will be possible to go all the way to creating a living organism — it’s a pretty wild and remarkable time,” said Paul Tesar, a developmental biologist at Case Western Reserve University School of Medicine who was not involved in the study.

Since the 1980s, developmental biologists have been taking apart embryos cell by cell to try to understand how they eventually become all the specialized tissues that allow fish to swim and mice to scurry and humans to walk and talk. In the last decade or so, researchers have learned enough about the signals that send stem cells down these differentiation paths to be able to put them back together into things that resemble organs (organoids), recently fertilized eggs (blastoids), and even embryos (embryoids).

But these balls of mouse and human cells could only be grown in dishes and test tubes for a short amount of time before they’d poop out. They needed a living womb to support their further development, or even better, an artificial approximation of one.

Jacob Hanna, an embryonic stem cell biologist at the Weizmann, spent seven years engineering a tubed system of spinning glass vials housed in an incubator to do just that. Last year, his team reported in Nature that their mechanical uterus could keep natural mouse embryos alive for up to 11 days.

“That really showed that mammalian embryos can grow outside the uterus — it’s not really patterning or sending signals to the embryo so much as providing nutritional support,” Hanna told STAT in an interview. The next step was to see what would happen if they put stem cells — rather than natural embryos — into their contraption. “Can these cells make an entire embryo? That was a big unanswered question for the field.”

In this latest work, the team combined that system with a novel cocktail of stem cells, some of which had been chemically coaxed to over-express genes that switched on development of the placenta and yolk sac — tissues that are vital for supporting the healthy growth of embryos.

The synthetic embryos were able to grow to day 8.5, developing the beginnings of a well-shaped brain, a neural tube, and an intestinal tract, as well as a beating heart. Analyses of the synthetic embryos’ gene expression patterns across different tissues showed that they were 95% similar to a natural mouse embryo of the same age.

“We found that these cells do have this incredible self-organizing capability that can be unleashed if given the right artificial settings,” said Hanna.

However, the work has some important limitations. Day 8.5 is still relatively early; the full gestational time for a mouse is 20 days. And the embryos that survived that long were a rarity. Only about 50 of 10,000 cellular clumps self-organized into embryos. The rest failed to develop properly.

“This is just one step, but a very important step for us to be able to study early development,” said Tesar. “We’re crossing into the realm of being able to generate an embryo from scratch, and potentially a living organism. It’s been a really notable switch for the field.”

While scientists have gotten very good at rewinding mature cells to the more primitive stem cell state, figuring out exactly which chemical signals will cause a stem cell to produce the precursors of a liver or kidney has been much more challenging. Experiments trying to nudge stem cells to form specialized tissues have tended to produce jumbled mixes of cells instead, lacking organization and with the wrong compositions of cell types.

Researchers say the new work from Hanna’s team should provide a way forward for getting those recipes right, in part because the transparent bioreactor allows scientists to observe organs developing in front of their eyes, but still in the context of surrounding support tissues. And because by starting with stem cells instead of fertilized eggs, they can produce these embryonic structures in a much more scalable and controlled way.

“This is going to tremendously refine the roadmap to tissue and organ formation,” said Nicolas Rivron, a stem cell biologist at the Institute of Molecular Biotechnology of the Academy of Sciences in Vienna. “It’s going to teach us the minimal structures, the minimal elements that will be necessary to eventually form full-fledged organs. That alone is absolutely priceless.”

Beyond basic research though, the bigger impact of this work is its potential to one day be applied to other species, including humans. Synthetic embryos derived from stem cells offer scientists the opportunity to probe in unprecedented detail the early days of human development while providing a less controversial and ethically fraught alternative to human embryos — the study of which has historically been limited by funding bans and the willingness of IVF donors.

The synthetic embryology revolution isn’t going to happen tomorrow. There are numerous technical hurdles to translation — humans have much longer gestation periods and they grow much larger than a mouse, as well as being a more complicated organism. But that kind of work always starts somewhere, and it usually starts with mice. That means it’s not too soon to start thinking about where this could all be headed.

“The more and more we show the capacity for pushing stem cell-derived embryos further and further in development, the more synthetic embryos and natural embryos begin to merge,” said Tesar. “There will always be a gray area, but as scientists and as a society we need to come together to decide where the line is and define what is ethically acceptable.”

Hanna, for his part, isn’t interested in synthetic embryos for reproductive purposes. The ultimate goal he’s working toward is making organs and tissues for transplantation and to treat human diseases. He sees synthetic organoids not as potential lifeforms so much as as biology’s best 3D printer.

“You can view this as a universal differentiation protocol,” he said. Rather than needing different complicated chemical recipes to make a stem cell become a liver or a lung, embryoids, even very early-stage ones can give a stem cell all the signals it needs to produce potentially life-saving therapies.

Imagine a patient with untreatable leukemia — they need a bone marrow transplant to survive. In Hanna’s future, scientists can take a biopsy of skin cells from that patient, wind them back into stem cells, grow them in naive conditions, and put them in this specialized bioreactor. The end result? An army of bone marrow stem cells that can be given to that patient, without them having to wait for a donor match that might never come. “It’s early days but we’re really opening up the field to explore these possibilities more seriously,” said Hanna. “We’re moving from science fiction to science.”

Last year, Hanna co-founded a company called Renewal Bio, also based in Israel, focused on testing how his lab’s technology might be translated into improving human health.

#Israel #Weizmann Institute of Science #Medical #Health #Animals #Science

[thatsatricky1]

𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 || ‘𝐅𝐨𝐱’ chapter IV

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Abandoned. After going through hell and back together, she was left there to fend for herself. Y/n felt as though they’d left her in the dust at the facility. A facility that had taken young gifted children raising them in secret. The eight of them had been taken as children and grown up together at the facility and just when it they had the chance of escaping they made one crucial mistake, leaving her behind in the dust. One big mistake they hadn’t forgiven themselves for, and she would make sure they’d never forget it.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Fluff, Mystery, Psychological, Supernatural, Thriller, Trauma, Weird Humor.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5,1k+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Abandonment, Angst, Cursing, Slight visible violence, Tension, Threats.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

“Fuck.”

Y/n stared down at the hotel bathroom floor trying to hold back a wince, of course out of all the times she could have been clumsy it was when she’d been holding a bottle of dye.

Blue dye ran down the white sink with small splatters along the mirror. Closing her eyes briefly to keep calm before leaving the less than half full bottle of dye on top of some toilet paper on the sink counter.

Grabbing her toothpaste from her travel bag, thanking herself for getting a big tube last time she’d gone sanitary shopping before squeezing a lot on her hand before spearing the minty white paste over the sink and on the mirror. The old toothpaste trick always worked with getting dye off things without it staining.

Running a wet paper towel over the sink and mirror, she let out a relieved breath seeing no stains in sight. Finally getting back to task eyeing the pathetic excuse amount of blue dye left.

Looking into the mirror, Y/n knew she didn’t want her hair to be just white after bleaching it two days ago. She’d been cooped up in her hotel room the past two days beside yesterday when she’d visited Atiny cafe, wearing a hat to cover said white hair.

“Fuck it.” Y/n muttered to herself grabbing the rest of the dye starting from the bottom and working upwards trying her hardest to equally spread what little left she had of the blue dye. Only being successful with getting three fourths of her hair blue but it would do.

Squishing her hair into a bag she’d gotten along with the dye to let it soak in better and not get stains on anything. Dropping the new empty dye bottle in the hotel bathroom bin. Washing her hands satisfied that there was no staining, most likely from the fact she’d rubbed Vaseline into her hands beforehand with the added toothpaste residue.

Bzzz Bzzz

Y/n left the bathroom hearing her phone go off, walking up to the hotel desk to grab the phone, home screen automatically turning on from the movement showing a recent text.

A small smile on her lips as she noticed who it was. Yesterday at the cafe she’d given in and gave Yunho her number so that it would be easier to know about the cafe, if opening hours were different and who was working shift times. She’s met Yuhno, Wooyoung, San and Yeosang so far.

The text was asking if she was coming by today, causing her to reply back that she might. Yunho responded that he didn’t have a shift today but would be nearby.

Her head tilting at this wondering what he’d been getting out before letting out a groan at his next text. Apparently she’d been so engrossed in the conversations yesterday with Yunho and Yeosang she had left her purse at the cafe.

Yunho sent his location stating he’d be at a store for a few hours with Wooyoung so if she had time she could pop by, maybe even enjoy the place as well. Y/n clicking his location only for it to feel like her heart dropped down to her stomach. The familiar location on maps.

Glitch mode.

Yunho and Wooyoung are at Glitch mode. She should have known, seeing as Wooyoung had been the one to tell her about the place properly. There was no way she was going there, not in any circumstance. But she needed to pay for her hotel stay tonight since she wanted to move to another hotel, not liking staying for over a week in one.

Letting her eyes shut for a split second before deciding as she texted Yunho she would be there in an hour or so.

“I’ll just go in and out.” Muttering to herself trying to reassure herself it would be an easy slip in, grab the purse and slip back out unnoticed.

With that she set a timer for her hair hoping the new mix of white and blue didn’t look terrible, then again at this point it didn’t matter. At least it was changed.

She stood outside observing the store arms crossed. She’d decided to jog her way there, wearing a more sporty style of clothing to make the jog over more comfortable. She had thought to get at least one good thing from having to go there.

Internally debating whether or not to just turn back, or text Yunho to just come out to give her the purse. Though that would look weird, suspicious even at the fact she didn’t want to go in since Wooyoung and her had previously talked about Glitch mode together and he was in there too.

Letting out a sigh, Y/n composed herself rolling her shoulders back before moving towards the entrance, while placing a white medical facial mask on. Wondering how she’d slip past the lobby without being noticed, cursing to herself at the fact she’d not asked Yunho where he was in there.

Though it seemed not to be much of a problem as she thought observing just how many people mingled in the lobby. Eyes scanning the crowd before looking towards the lobby desk, throat tightening at the sight.

Renjun was sitting there behind the counter, distracted by a customer who was talking his ears off while holding something in their hand. Renjun looked like he wanted to be anywhere else at that moment, even with the welcoming smile on his face. Y/n could just tell.

He was wearing a white based T-shirt with something on it, too far away to see what it was. Though the glint of the lights above proved he was also wearing quite a few rings, he must have developed a liking for them after leaving the facility.

Shaking her head she turned away knowing it wasn’t a good idea standing in one spot for too long, making her way through the crowd. Even with her new hair colour and mask she was convinced it wouldn’t be enough if she was too slow getting through the place.

Trying to spot the silver haired man somewhere around the place was proving harder than she first imagined. Making her way down another hallway towards the movie room, her eyes widening at the figure walking her way causing her to look down at the ground trying to keep her pace casual.

Jaemin walked away from the movie room after checking in to see if everything was going well for the customers in there, a duo having booked the room for one movie. Moving down the hallway, lost in thought about going to check in on the arcade, knowing it was pretty full and Jeno would need help.

Though as he passed by a customer on their way down the hallway he stopped walking, eyebrows furrowing since this hallway only led towards the movie room which was already booked, and the next group scheduled in an hour was a group of five.

Turning on his heels to watch the figure walking he felt as though he was hit with a sense of dejavu but shook it off in favour of the current situation.

“Excuse me ma’am, the movie room is already booked right now, you’ll have to register in advance.” Jaemin called out politely.

Though the woman didn’t stop walking away from him and towards the movie room, her body looked slightly more tense now. Jaemin taking a step in her direction ready to stop her from interrupting the duo inside only for her to already be knocking gently against the door.

Jaemin was not in the mood to sort out whatever problem was about to occur but before he could open his mouth again he watched the door open. The silver haired man’s face lit up with a grin at the woman. He opened the door further gesturing for her to come in yet she shook her head no.

The silver haired man tilted his head at this before nodding, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly before disappearing from the door for a second before coming back with a purse in hand. The woman moved her hand out to take it. Jaemin’s eyes squinting to see, feeling another wave of familiarity at her manicured nails.

She pulled the other into a quick side hug before waving at the other person Jamein couldn’t see in the room. With that the silver haired man went back into the room as she closed the door for him. Turning around, her blue and white hair flicking slightly as she did so, but kept her head down.

Jaemin was not able to move or look away as she started making her way down the hallway, getting closer to him.

“Ma’am it seems like you were here to collect something, but that makes me think you may have not paid the entrance fee. Since you were just collecting something quickly it’s fine, but please understand our ruling if you decide to come back.” Jaemin politely spoke out after figuring out the situation.

The woman not looking up but nodded as she got closer, deciding not to speak, Jaemin chalked it up to her just not being in the mood for being social, something he could understand as it happened to everyone.

Though as she moved past him, actively trying to leave space in between them Jaemin breathed in hit with another familiar thing, her perfume it reminded him of Y/n who’d smelled the same when he’d seen her to days ago, her hoodie she’d accidentally left having a perfume scent stuck on it.

Jaemin’s body turned, eyeing the woman, his heart thudding in his chest. There was no way it was her, but he couldn’t help but wish it was. Different hair, meeting people who were most likely friends and such showing it couldn’t be her but she smelled like her, had the same manicure, same figure.

“Y/n?” Jaemin called out softly before he could stop himself gauging the person's reaction, his shoulders dropping in disappointment when the woman didn’t react to the name. Evident of it not being who he wanted it to be.

“I’m starting to overthink like Jisungie.” Jaemin huffed out to himself, hand moving to rub over his face in slight frustration.

Y/n heart was pounding, she thought it would be loud enough for people around her to hear if music wasn’t playing loudly in the background through speakers.

Though she tried reigning her emotions in and composing herself knowing she was nearly out, the last thing she needed was to start a fire out of how her emotions were flaring. The facility would most likely punish her if they’d be able to see how her emotions took over her so easily just two days prior in that lobby.

Apparently trying to compose her, caused her to be dazed as she didn’t even notice someone holding a stack of paper walking opposite of her. The two of them crashing into each other causing the papers to flutter down around them. She’d fallen down to the ground, her coccyx stinging slightly.

“I’m so sorry, it looks like we both weren’t looking where we were going.” A voice from above her sounded, she was too preoccupied to realise who had been speaking.

“It’s fine we’re both at fault-” Her sentence cut off as she looked up hand midway upwards to grab at the man’s hand that had been offered to her to help her up.

“Y/n? Why… you’re back.” Donghyuck breathed out eyes wide. No matter the hair change, or covering her face he would always recognise her voice, the sound burned into his memory willingly. Even when muffled behind a mask. His hand moved downwards to grab her raised hand to help her up.

Y/n hand automatically slapping his hand away, not wanting his touch as she stumbled to get up, taking a step back.

“Don’t touch me.” Y/n hissed out, her hand tightening around her purse. His eyes flicking down at it before going back to her eyes.

Donghyuck knew it was wrong, he’d never used his ability on her before but he had to know, he needed to know.

“Tell me why you are here.” Donghyuck asked, staring deep into her eyes, his demand going straight to her head, answering even if she didn’t want to.

“I was here to collect my purse I’d accidentally left with Yunho.”

Her answer caused Donghyuck’s eyes to sharper, jaw clenching. His stomach was tight at the fact it had nothing to do with him or the boys. Who was this guy she was talking about? Mouth opening to ask another question.

“Don’t you dare say another word. Using it on me, really?” Y/n snapped out, though her voice lowered so as not to cause unwanted attention. Feeling utterly betrayed at the fact Donghyuck had used his word manipulation on her of all people.

“Y/n I’m sorry, it just happened. I wasn’t thinking.” Donghyuck apologised, his words fast trying to do damage control, cringing at himself for using his abilities. They weren’t on good terms much to his dismay but he’d just ended up making it worse.

“Get out of my way.” Y/n didn’t bother answering his apology wanting to leave. She hadn’t even wanted to interact with any of them in the first place.

“Is everything alright here?” A new voice entered the tense conversation, Chenle’s voice.

“Stay out of this.” Y/n warned eyes sharp as they landed on Chenle who in turned let his jaw drop slightly at realising it was her and not just a random customer.

“You dyed your hair?” Chenle blurted out the first thing that came to mind, Y/n having to control the urge to roll her eyes at that. It was such a Chenle thing to do.

“I don’t come here for any of you, but you already know that from you using your words against me.” She ignored Chenle in favour of talking to Donghyuck, annoyance clear in her tone.

“Wait, you used your ability on her?” Chenle asked, shocked. His voice lowered so no one overheard.

“It was an accident. I swear.” Donghyuck claimed towards Chenle only to panic as he saw Y/n try to walk away.

He moved, stepping in front of her, blocking her path from leaving again. He couldn’t watch her walk away again. Even if she had every right to do so as they had done it to her, in the worst way possible. It was selfish, he knew that but this was better than losing her.

“I’m warning you only once, Donghyuck. Get out of my way or I’ll make you move. Clearly you aren’t above using your ability on me, so now I feel the same.” She warned out, voice calm.

It would be much more noticeable if she used hers. A scene where mundane people would witness it. In the worst case it would be a huge hint for the facility to be able to follow and find their eight lost missing lambs. Unless she found a way to do it without showing it.

“You wouldn’t, that’s not who you are.” Donghyuck shook his head, not believing her bluff.

Taking off her mask so they could hear her voice clearly, not needing it anymore as the purpose for it in the first place was no longer useful.

“You don’t know me anymore. Two years can change a person.” Her words hit the boys exactly how she had intended it to. A small nearly unnoticeable smirk on her lips. But they noticed, they would always notice when it came to her.

Yet Donghyuck held his ground. This caused her to nod as if to say something without using words.

“Donghyuck.” She called out his name.

Donghyuck had to hold back a sharp breath. Even if she had called out his name without any certain meaning or emotion, it was still good to hear her say his name.

Watching her walk up to him, bringing her hand out causing him to take the silent offer without question as if on instinct. A small smile formed as his gaze went from her hand to her face.

“I told you.” Donghyuck spoke out to her.

A warm feeling spread through him at the feeling of her hand in his. Y/n tugged Donghyuck closer with their clasped hand, her grip on his tightened. Angling her face upwards inches away from his.

“No, I told you.” She whispered out not giving him enough time to process her words as she did exactly what she warned would happen. No bluff in sight.

Donghyuck’s smile fading at the feeling of her hand holding his, noticing it was warming up at a slow pace.

“Y/n, it doesn’t have to be like this.” His light plea not being taken.

Donghyuck tried not to let the head show on his face, not wanting Chenle to interrupt or realise what was happening under his current watchful gaze.

“You all decided this long ago.” She retorts her hand reaching a temperature that was uncomfortable, yet still tolerable.

“We thought we didn’t have a choice at the time back then.” Donghyuck still tried to get across wincing now at the heat. Chenle took an unsure step forward feeling as if something was off while watching the two.

“There was always a choice.” Y/n explained firmly, finally letting go when she knew his skin would start to suffer if she didn’t let go. She wanted to make a point, but not harm him.

Donghyuck let out a noise of relief when the heat left his hand but subconsciously his hand chased after hers, but stilled.

“Goodbye.” Y/n bluntly stated before side stepping Donghyuck, causing her shoulder to brush past Chenle’s.

“Please come visit us again, here or at the apartment it doesn’t matter. Just hear us out, let us tell you what happened that night. All you have to do is hear us out and if it doesn’t agree with you then you can leave without any complaints and we’ll stop trying to see you.” Chenle blustered out his hand moving to grab gently at her thin jacket.

“Did you really just say that?” Y/n asked as she turned her head to look at him.

“You don’t have, just… please just think about it?” Chenle asked, his voice bordering on desperate.

Y/n gazed at him trying her best to keep composed, trying her best to remember he along with the others left her there at that god forsaken place. She couldn’t afford to look at him any other way, most certainly not like two years ago before the escape.

Yet she found herself giving Chenle a slow nod before turning around on her heels swiftly making her way down the lobby to leave as quickly as she could. Chenle letting out a breath moving to look at Donghyuck.

“Did she just agree?”

“Maybe.” Donghyuck responded, rubbing his hands still feeling how warm it was. Chenle eyed his hand.

“What did she do? Did she really use her ability against you?” Chenle asked bewildered.

“Yes she did but nothing bad, she let go before it could get back. It was a warning. Y/n wouldn’t hurt us, not even now.” Donghyuck explained, set on thinking she wouldn’t actually harm them even after everything that happened.

“You think she’ll actually show up and hear us out?” Chenle asked another question needing reassurance, it was clear as day to see by his multiple questions let alone the look he was giving Donghyuck.

“I don’t know. Maybe… I hope so. I think she wants answers, so she could show up.” Donhyuck couldn’t really reassure Chenle but he tried his best.

The two gazed at her figure moving through the crowd before Chenle tugged Donghyuck gently to start picking up the scattered paperwork Mark needed as soon as possible in the staff room.

Y/n let out a shaky sigh at the unwanted interactions she’d had, but tried looking at the positive side of at least it had only been 3/7 of the group. The entrance of the lobby was in sight.

“Y/n.”

Her eyes fluttered shut for a second to keep calm at hearing her name once again continuing to walk forward but was halted in her steps as someone rushed to stand in front of her. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder what was with people blocking her path today.

Renjun stood in front of her, his hand running over his short black hair before finally finding some words to speak out. Y/n glancing towards the lobby counter to see no one there anymore since Renjun had left the counter a small line already forming.

“I thought it was you, I was um… I saw you from over at the counter because I’m working the counter today, you changed your hair, it looks nice, the blue and the white, are you going to work out, you’re wearing fitness clothes. God I’m rambling.” Renjun rushed out multiple sentences, his mind working too fast, spewing out whatever came into his head. Giving her a nervous smile.

“Are you done?” Her question caused Renjun to close his mouth, nodding ears reddening at her reaction to his words.

“I was just leaving.” Y/n explained moving to cross her arms. A clear sign of self comfort to get through another conversation.

“Why did you come? That sounded wrong, I am glad you’re here but why did you come? I thought you didn’t want to see us anymore.” Renjun questioned her, internally cursing at himself for messing up his wording again in front of her.

“You can ask Donghyuck or Chenle when you have time, they know why.” She shut down any attempt Renjun had to try and make conversation moving to side step him.

Renjun turned on the spot to watch her as she pushed the entrance door open, holding the door for a few seconds to hold the door open for two people wanting to come inside. Before she let the door go rushing away as if she didn’t want to stay a second longer.

Renjun tempted to go after her but he looked over at the counter seeing the small line had turned into a long line, his shoulders sagging at the sight. Giving the entrance door a longing look before dragging himself back over to the counter.

She stuffed her purse into her pocket running pants before taking a deep breath in before starting to jog down the street, making sure to use the more free area’s not wanting to inconvenience others or draw attention to herself.

Breathing in through her mouth and out through her mouth keeping a steady breathing pattern as she went. Debating in her head if she should start running, instead of just jogging to really get a workout since she hadn’t been on a proper run for a while.

Deciding in the end against running in favour of keeping a normal paced jog since she had a thought on where to go not wanting to go straight to her hotel again.

She’d already packed everything up and wanted to pay her stay first before moving to the next hotel but not straight away. She wanted to go visit her favourite cafe first even if Yunho and Wooyoung weren’t on shift. Unintentionally seeking out comfort after her recent conversations unknowingly.

Taking under five minutes to get from Glitch Mode to the Atiny cafe. Her breathing technique worked wonders, not at all out of breath and having no trouble.

Pushing her way into the cafe a soft smile forming on her face from hearing the familiar vintage bell ring out upon her arrival. The door closed behind her softly while she walked towards the counter.

“Hey you.” The cherry red headed man behind the counter greeted her with a grin, eyes slightly disappearing as he did so.

“Hello San, the usual please.” Y/n greeted back moving to pull out her purse, glad she’d gotten it back even if it had been much more tough than she had expected it to be.

“One warm caramel macchiato with whatever food item I think would be good, no problem.” San recited her usual while taking the cash from her, dropping the change into the tip jar knowing she’d say to put it in there anyway.

“Thank you.”

Y/n moved over to her booth, sliding in relaxing her body against it, body needing a break from today's events. Eyes moving towards the window watching the scenery.

Before she used to watch people purely out of the need to make sure her surroundings were safe and nothing suspicious was going around. Now she could do it not only for that reason but out of pure curiousity to know what these mundane people were up to. Not being able to help wonder what their lives were like.

She watched a young girl and mother walking down the street, their hands clasped together, the little girl swinging their hands talking animatedly to her mother. A soft look of longing taking over Y/n face at the scene.

She’d always wondered what it would be like to have a normal childhood. She longed to know about her own parents. If they were even alive. She had no clue where she was born, no idea what type of family she could have out there.

But she wouldn’t look. No, it would most likely be a hint to the facility. They would most likely see someone was taking interest in ex family members of one of their lambs. Y/n had to accept not knowing about them in favour of continuing being able to run away from the facility.

“Every time one of us brings you your order you always seem so dazed out, what’s going on in that head of yours?” San had cut off her thoughts as he placed her order in front of her.

He was never cautious of his words with her, not anymore. He knew that she didn’t mind him talking so casually with her. Sliding into the opposite side of the booth table leaning over to take one of the biscuits on her plate.

“Just people watching.” She responded simply with a shrug of her shoulders, hands cupping her warm drink.

“Sure, I get that. Just seems like it’s a bit more than that.” San raised an eyebrow not believing it was just that but changed the topic “So you’re becoming a usual here, I thought you weren’t staying long.”

“I thought so too, turns out I will be here for a few more days.” She hummed back moving to take a sip of her coffee, the liquid warming her up even if her jogging had already done that.

Generally due to her element abilities she could stay warm easily in winter and cool in summer, but she only used it when needed. Preferring to feel the natural seasonal weather like everyone else does.

“Well I’m glad you’re staying a little longer. Our puppy will probably be all pouts and tears when you decide to leave.” San joked out about Yunho knowing fully well his long time friend had developed a tight knit platonic relationship with the woman sitting in front of him.

San could understand why. He’d also easily been taken by her different personality. It was obvious she was closed off from most people, yet still managed to be polite to those that deserved it. San realising she was like everyone else and just needed to warm up to them.

If she stayed even longer, San didn’t doubt it if she’d somehow end up not just being a regular at the cafe but a good friend. Yet he knew not to give in to hopeful thinking, not when she seemed so set in her ways. Y/n seemed to be the type of person who followed her own decisions all the way through.

The two conversed the whole time she was there besides when San had to go tend to another customer, Yeosang who was baking in the back would occasionally come out to talk with her as well. The green haired man pouted in a subtle way when he’d seen she’d changed her hair colour not matching anymore.

“Are you coming by tomorrow? We’re having a staff meeting tomorrow so if you come around two tomorrow you’d be able to meet the other.” San offered from where he stood behind the counter, opening up a new bag of coffee beans.

“Mmm, maybe.” Y/n neither agreeing or disagreeing from where she leaned against the counter watching him work.

“Usually when someone says maybe it leans towards a no, but with you it really could mean anything.” San clicked his tongue sliding an unopened coffe bag to her to help him get the tasks done faster.

“Well, a maybe is a yes or no that’s not yet decided.” She shrugged as her manicured hands nimbly worked open the coffee bean bag.

Sans eyes watching, wondering if she’d been a barista before by the way she seemed to complete the simple task efficiently and neatly.

“As much as I’d love to continue helping, I’m unfortunately not getting paid to open your coffee bean bags and I need to get going now. See you around San.” Y/n slide the now open coffee bean bag towards his side of the counter.

“Hopefully tomorrow before the staff meeting. See you then.” San gave her a cheeky grin to which she returned it with a smile of her own, waving right in front of him before leaving the cozy cafe.

“She’ll show up.” San spoke to himself, confident that she would be there tomorrow.

Cling Cling

The doorbell chiming two minutes after Y/n had left. San not looking up hearing light footsteps causing him to think she’d left something at the cafe like last time.

“Did you leave your purse here again?” San questioned out, eyes not looking up in favour of focusing on pouring the coffee beans into a large jar.

Though at an unfamiliar voice, his actions faltered realising it had not been her and in fact a very different person. His hands fumbled with the bag to place it down without spilling any coffee beans.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the girl who was here a moment ago, would you? Or maybe even where she happened to be going to?” A male voice spoke out, a grin on his lips. San couldn’t help but think the man resembled a fox in a way.

Chapter three || Chapter four || Chapter five

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @rotinyzen @wonyoungmywife @snflwrhaerecs4u @thegreenlynx @serinebsblog @delululi @bubusebu @hanniehq @bunnychui @molensworld @morkiee @marvelahsobx

(If you want to be tagged in my Nct Dream writing comment, inbox or message me)

Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget likes, reblogs and comments are always encouraged and help keep writers like myself motivated to continue our stories.

𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

⤻ Click here.

𝐊𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

⤻ Click here.

#nct dream #mark lee #mark x reader #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #donghyuck x reader #haechan x reader #jaemin x reader #na jaemin #huang renjun #renjun x reader #lee jeno #jeno x reader #zhong chenle #chenle x reader #park jisung #jisung x reader #nct dream au #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream oneshot #nct dream imagines #nct dream ot7 x reader #poly nct dream #nct dream supernatural #nct dream thriller #nct dream x y/n #nct dream x reader #nct dream series

[lexosaurus]

Birthmark

Phic Phight oneshot for @datawyrms: Danny Phantom's jumpsuit is hiding a secret he'd rather not reveal to anyone.

---

“Shit,” Valerie cursed, deactivating her hoverboard and gently placing the figure on the ground. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Bright green liquid soaked the ghost’s body, dripping off his waist and painting the grass in a steady stream. It was ectoplasm, something inhuman and twisted, and yet when Valerie looked down, all she saw was how closely it resembled blood. 

She raised a shaking hand and attempted to brush away some of the green on her suit. But she looked more green than red at this point and all she could think of was how much ectoplasm was outside the ghost’s body. 

It was too much.

They’d been ambushed after a ghost fight, the Guys in White having caught them in one of their special nets. Valerie had tried to yell out that she wasn’t a ghost, she was human, but it was no use. They zapped the net, and her vision was shrouded in darkness.

The next thing she knew, she was in a van, trapped with her biggest rival in Amity Park. Phantom was awake, but he didn’t know how long they’d been in the van for. Hours passed before the van stopped at last. But at that point, they had a plan.

As soon as an operative opened the back, Valerie was on him. She knocked him out, stole his gun, and bolted.

Apparently, Phantom wasn’t so useless without his powers either. By some miracle, he managed to find a way to remove his inhibitor collar and take flight.

But that was when all hell broke loose. Right as he’d paused to free Valerie from her inhibitors, someone landed a shot on him.

And he fell.

Valerie didn’t have time to think. She just grabbed his body, activated her hoverboard, and flew, not sure where she was going but unwilling to stop until she was sure she’d lost the agents. 

“Fuck.” She threw off her helmet and looked down at Phantom’s unconscious form. There was a hole in the stomach of his suit, and ectoplasm bubbled and sparkled in the harsh sun.

He was going to die, Valerie realized. What happened when a ghost died? Could they even die? 

“Stay with me,” she whispered.

She shoved a hand in her belt for her emergency supplies, but her glove was too slippery, and her hand trembled too much. She couldn’t do this. She ripped off her glove and tried again, trying to ignore the way the ectoplasm trickled between her fingers.

She had a bit of gauze, a tube of instant clot powder, a few butterfly clips, and a few large bandages. It wasn’t much, but it would have to work.

Because the alternative…

She set the supplies down and turned back to the unconscious ghost. His glow was almost nonexistent, and for the first time she could see his face clearly. All the grooves of skin, his pores, the individual hairs on his eyelashes and eyebrows. He had freckles. That tiny, human detail Valerie would have thought impossible for a ghost. 

Even the more humanoid ghosts always had some slight haze to them, something that just made them more like a realistic doll than a person. But not Phantom. If it weren’t for the white hair and ectoplasm, she would have thought him to be just a regular teenager.

“Stay with me.” 

She needed to take his jumpsuit off. Could she even do that? Was it attached to him? Would taking it off just hurt him more?

For a moment, Valerie knelt there frozen, unsure of what to do. She felt lightheaded, dizzy, nauseous. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of burnt battery acid and lime, and she could only stare as the Phantom’s face slowly grew paler and paler.

She pinched herself. “Snap out of it.” She’d dealt with worse, this was just a ghost. A ghost that she didn’t even like. A ghost that she’d spent the last two years chasing out of Amity Park.

She could do this.

Grabbing her swiss army knife out of her belt, she began carefully slicing through the fabric. Her damp hands were immediately filled with green goo, and for a moment she panicked, thinking that her fears were correct and that the jumpsuit acted like a second skin for Phantom.

But then she saw a black t-shirt peeking out underneath the jumpsuit, and she realized with a shaky breath of relief that the suit simply melted if it wasn’t attached to the host.

Of course, that made sense. She’d seen Plasmius rip off his cape before and it had dissolved in thin air. How could she have forgotten?

She made quick work with removing the jumpsuit, and had started on the undershirt as well when Phantom groaned.

She froze, unable to move the slightest muscle, as she watched Phantom’s drunk green eyes slowly flutter to life. 

“Don’...” he slurred.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked. “You’re hurt, I’m sorry.”

She tried to resume cutting his shirt, but he lazily swatted her hand away. “Don’...”

“Phantom, stop. I need to get this off you.”

“Stop...”

“I gotta do this,” she said, tearing his t-shirt. “It’s just a shirt.”

“S’ugly,” he mumbled, his eyes rolling back. His head lolled to the side, and he was out again.

Valerie rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be—” 

Her voice cut off, and she sucked in a breath. Tattooed on Phantom’s skin were glowing lightning figures that branched from his shoulder, snaking around his chest and stomach as if they were alive.

Valerie had never seen anything like it before, and she could have dismissed them as just ectoplasmic tattoos. But from Phantom’s reaction, she had a sneaking suspicion that these were something much more serious. Much more personal.

Something that she didn’t have time to think about right now. Something that was getting covered by ectoplasm, something that was losing its bleak glow as the aura around Phantom faded to nothing.

Time was up. She needed to act now.

Ripping off the packaging, Valerie got to work.

---

The sky was clear, glittering with thousands of stars. It was one of those rare nights where the milky way was visible, arcing the sky with its brilliance. 

Valerie had never been one to care about nature. Growing up rich in the city, her focus was always materialistic. She just wanted to fit in with the other girls, so she’d been more than willing to follow along with their hobbies and model her life after their trends.

Nature? Space? Stars? She never gave them a second thought.

Until her life was turned upside down, that was. Suddenly, Valerie went from hardly spending time outside to now soaring through the sky every night, weather be damned. It didn’t take long for her to appreciate the beauty of a clear, warm, night sky.

She landed on top of a building and collapsed her hoverboard. It had been quiet thus far, with only a few ambient blob ghosts roaming around a warehouse. Although at the beginning of her ghost hunting career, Valerie had spent each night painstakingly capturing every ghost in sight, she’d grown since then. She wasn’t so angry, so vengeful now.

And aside from being completely harmless, even Valerie had to admit there was something almost cute about the tiny bulbs of ecto energy.

Her suit dinged, signaling a ghost nearby, and Valerie groaned. There really was no rest for the weary, it seemed.

She raised her radar watch to her eyes to see a familiar ecto signature reading pop up in the corner.

One that was heading towards her.

Shit.

She hadn’t seen Phantom since that day. He’d been avoiding her. And maybe a few months ago she wanted him to avoid her, but now...

That day had changed her.

It was terrifying the way the government had so easily lumped her in with the ghosts just because they detected ectoplasmic readings from her suit. She woke up not knowing where she was, where she was going, if she’d ever see her father again.

Part of Valerie had insisted that once they saw her without her helmet, they’d call her dad and drive her back. It would have all been a big misunderstanding.

But a different part of her, one deep down inside, knew she was just lying to herself.

The government operated the way she did when she first started ghost hunting. All black and white, no room for grey. Ghost were evil and all ectoplasm needed to be destroyed. Period.

After she patched Phantom up in that grassy field, she flew and flew until she stumbled across a nearby town. She hid Phantom in a warehouse and sat with him for hours, forcing herself to stay away and stand guard in case the GiW found them. 

He didn’t wake up until the next morning, taking one look between Valerie and his exposed torso before panic struck his features and he simply disappeared. Before Valerie could gather her wits to hunt his ungrateful ass down and kill him again, he reappeared, suit intact, and began leading their way back to Amity on instinct alone.

Phantom refused to look her in the eye for the entire trip home. And when they finally got to Valerie’s apartment, left her with a “get some sleep” before disappearing once again.

Her watch buzzed lightly against her skin, signaling that he was close. Valerie leaned back, waiting. Seeing if he’d actually come to her, or if he’d bail and pull the vanishing act he was so famous for.

But then he appeared. Right in front of her. His glow was vibrant against the night sky, covering his body in a shimmery aura. His acidic green eyes glistened in the dark.

He really looked no worse for wear after his injury. That kind of hit would have landed Valerie in the hospital. And yet, Phantom was back the next day, full of bright smiles and puns for the people of Amity.

She wondered how often this kind of thing happened to him. Just how many times had he been nearly slaughtered only to pop back into the public eye pretending like nothing happened?

He gave her an awkward wave. “Hey, Red.” 

“Phantom.” She greeted cooly.

Just because lately she’d been seeing Phantom as someone who didn’t have an inherently evil Obsession didn’t mean that she liked him. At best, he was cocky, arrogant. At worst, he’d dumped her back at her apartment and left her by herself after the complete shit show that was their kidnapping.

So yeah, maybe she was a little bitter. Sue her.

“Uh, do you mind if I…” He gestured to the roof.

She pretended to mull his proposition over, watching as his ghostly tail flickered in anxiety.

He was ready to bolt, and she didn’t blame him. They’d never really talked before.

“Do what you want. I don’t feel like fighting tonight,” she finally conceded.

Relief spread across Phantom’s features, and Valerie was once again reminded of how human he was. She once thought that ghosts couldn’t feel any emotions. While it was doubtless that the way they experienced emotions was different than how humans did, there was just no way that Phantom was able to nail all those tiny details so accurately. Even if he was one of the more powerful ghosts out there, it would have been near impossible to mimic the full range of human emotion so quickly and precisely.

He settled down next to her, his tail morphing into legs positioned criss-crossed against the concrete. He turned to her, rubbing the back of his neck.

Valerie said nothing, just allowing the blanket of awkwardness to settle over the pair. If he wanted to say something, he could say it. Valerie wasn’t going to hand-hold him through a conversation.

When the tension was reaching the point of unbearable, Phantom finally broke the silence. “It’s a nice night.”

“Sure is.”

“I haven’t—uh, seen any ghosts. Tonight, I mean. Like outside. Or inside, too. Uh...it’s a quiet night. Ghost free. Well, except for me, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

He ran a gloved hand through his white hair. “Not that I’m really complaining. It’s kinda nice to have a break for a change.”

Valerie grunted in agreement, even though she was sure Phantom was lying through his teeth. Ghosts lived for their Obsessions, and Phantom was no different. She knew that deep down, he reveled in ghost hunting even more than any human ever could.

The duo was lapsed back into another tense silence, one that Valerie didn’t try to break. She didn’t understand what his goal was with the petty chatter. Did he think they were suddenly friends now? After he discarded her back at her apartment like she was a used rag and disappeared without a hint of remorse?

After she carried him hundreds of miles away from the Guys in White compound, bandaged his wounds, and then stayed up all night just to make sure he was safe?

She could have left him there. She could have been home before her father had woken up the next morning in a panic because his daughter was nowhere to be found. She could have avoided the phone call to the police, the missing child report, the whole mess that had followed.

And he couldn’t have even been bothered to say thank you afterward. Just dumped her and left.

So if he thought she was going to help him out now, he had another thing coming.

“How have...um, how have you been? Since…”

“Fine.” She said. “My dad’s been better.”

He winced. “Yeah…”

“Not that you care.”

He jolted up, turning around to face her. “What?”

“You know what I’m talking about, spook.”

“I thought we were over the whole ‘spook’ thing,” he said, his face twisting in annoyance.

“And I thought you were over being an inconsiderate jerk. But I guess I was wrong.”

“Listen, Val—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Okay, Red. Listen, I’m sorry. Okay? I got freaked out that you—you saw…” He let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry you got caught up in my problems, I’m sorry they thought you were a ghost, and I just...yeah.”

Valerie sat there for a moment, glaring out at the night’s sky. “It was a big mess, you know.”

“I know.”

“The police were involved and everything.”

“I heard.”

“And you know the worst part? I couldn’t even tell them the truth.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I got kidnapped by my own government and I couldn’t even tell my dad. I had to lie and say I got lost while out on a nature hike. How stupid is that? I nearly got killed by the freaking government and I haven’t been able to say a damn thing to anyone.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet.

“Yeah, well…” Valerie swallowed the lump in her throat. “You know. Hazard of the job, I guess. Still would have been nice if you hadn’t just left on me. After everything.”

Phantom lowered his head, allowing the white strands of hair to cover his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It was a dick move.”

“It was.”

“I just wanna know why.”

He looked up, startled. “Why? Why you were captured, or—”

“Why the silent treatment? Was it because I saw those glowing lightning tattoos under your jumpsuit?”

He flinched back as if he’d been struck, his body lifting to hover over the cement. He stared at her open mouthed, as if he didn’t think she’d even dare to mention it.

But Valerie couldn’t find it in her to be joyous at his hurt expression. “Seriously? You were mad about that? Like I care about what you put on your body.”

“No, no.” Despite looking like he wanted to take flight, he managed to lower himself back onto the roof. “No, they’re...it’s complicated.” 

“Oh, wonderful,” she said sardonically. “So let me get this straight, ghost boy. I save your ass from the government, pull an all-nighter guarding your lifeless body in a warehouse, and the best you can give me is an it’s complicated? Thanks a lot. It really makes me feel better.”

“No, it’s…” He trailed off, rubbing a hand over his face. His eyebrows were pinched and he looked almost sick. When he finally spoke, his voice was small. “They’re not tattoos.”

“Oh? What, an unlucky birthmark?”

He didn’t respond.

Valerie turned to him, realization hitting her with full force. Unable to keep the surprise out of her voice, she said, “Really? That’s it?”

He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. His eyes were distant, far away. Lost in some other world.

He’d been electrocuted. Struck to death by lightning, or something similar. And now it was branded on him, as some twisted reminder of the ugly creature that extended its spindly claws and ripped his humanity from his body.

“Damn.” Valerie blew out a breath. “Of all the ways to go, huh?”

“I—Yeah…”

She couldn’t help herself. “Do all ghosts have one?”

“No.”

Valerie didn’t know if that made it better or worse. Questions swirled through her brain, but she bit her tongue. She didn’t know much about ghost culture, but she was fairly certain that there was a taboo against asking ghosts about their deaths.

So she stayed silent, pretending to focus back on the stars but stealing glances to the teenage ghost beside her. His brows had furrowed, as if he were having an internal war. Whatever it was, Valerie didn’t pry. Even if her curiosity burned brighter with each passing moment.

Finally, he sighed, dropping his forehead into his knees. “It’s fine,” he said, though his voice sounded anything but. “You can ask.”

She hesitated for a brief moment before relenting. “Why do you have a mark?”

“They’re called Lichtenberg figures,” he explained. “They just happen. If the shock is bad enough. But they, uh, are supposed to fade in a few days. You know, if you’re...human.”

“But yours didn’t.”

“No, mine didn’t.” He raised his head, opening his mouth slightly, before slamming it shut.

This was unmarked territory she was stepping into. Hell, she doubted even the Fentons had ever talked to a ghost about their death before.

“Do you remember it?” she tried.

“Yeah.” 

That surprised her. She’d read some of the Fenton’s papers, and even they were uncertain of how much a ghost remembered about their death. 

The question must have shown on her face because Phantom added, “Not everyone does. I think...I think it has to do on their power level. And, uh, how old they are. I think some of the more ancient ghosts just kinda...forget. But I don’t know much. We don’t really talk about it.”

“Oh.”

Phantom nodded, staring down at his gloves. He sighed, and then started pulling one of them off.

Valerie froze, her eyes locking onto the movement. She’d never seen Phantom remove them before, and frankly she wasn’t even sure if they could be removed.

The glove left his skin and dissolved into ectoplasm, splashing onto the concrete roof. And there, left on his otherworldly skin, were the cobwebs of the lightning scar that covered his torso. It was brighter, glowing with more precision than Valerie remembered from before. 

He pushed his sleeve up to his elbow, revealing more of the Lichtenberg figure. It traveled up his wrist, spiraling throughout his arm before it disappeared into his suit. The branches were thin, glowing with the same ectoplasmic energy that ran through the ghost’s core.

Valerie didn’t know what to say. Here Phantom was, her biggest rival in Amity Park, revealing his creation, the moment that turned him into what he was today.

“It was an accident.” He finally spoke. “I was being stupid, I don’t know. My friends and I were fooling around with this...this machinery, I guess, that we knew we weren’t supposed to be near. I grabbed a malfunctioning piece of equipment—I didn’t realize it was plugged in—and that...was it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well…” Phantom pushed his sleeve back down. He closed his eyes, willing the glove to  materialize back onto his hand. He looked at her and offered a feeble smirk. “Teenagers, am I right?”

Valerie forced a polite smile in return, hoping it didn’t look too pained. 

He cleared his throat. “But, you know,” he said, allowing some of that familiar cocky energy back into his voice. “It’s in the past now. I’m over it.”

Valerie doubted that much. After all, he was still a ghost.

“I mean, I get to do really cool things now. Like helping people. Protecting the town. You can’t exactly do that as a human.” He froze, his eyes flickering to her. “I mean, aside from you. You’re great at it!”

Valerie flipped him off. “Whatever, ghost boy.”

“No, I’m serious! You’re really good as a ghost hunter.”

“I know I’m good! I don’t need your flattery to give me self-esteem.” Her voice sobered. “But really, Phantom. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

He frowned, and looked up at the sky. The brilliance of the stars reflected on his form, giving his body an almost ethereal presence. 

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

---

Thanks for reading!

#danny phantom #phic phight #my writing #birthmark

[ragingbookdragon]

Raise Hell And High-Waters

Lanternfamily x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Based on the ask about Batman trying to adopt the little scrappy Lanternkid! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Hal set the kid down on the couch in the lounge, setting their Justice League backpack beside them. They immediately busied themselves pulling out the game console, switching it on as they cocked their legs up on the cushions, slinking down until their chin was in their chest, head bent up against the arm of the sofa.

“You gonna be okay right here?” he inquired.

“Mhm,” they hummed, pressing the buttons until the music flowed through the speakers.

Hal nodded, then reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet; he flicked it open and tugged out some money, setting it in the cup holder of their backpack. “Here’s ten ones, okay? The vending machines are over there, get a snack and a drink if you want it.”

“Can I get a soda?”

“No sodas after eight.” He announced, like a parent, hands even cocked on his hips.

“Loser,” they griped, then looked at him. “Do they have flavored waters?”

“Any kind you can dream of kid,” he reached down and ruffled their hair. “Look, the meeting was last minute, and I wouldn’t’ve brought you if I could’ve found a babysitter in time.” He smiled halfheartedly. “I should only be gone an hour and a half, okay?”

They smiled. “Can we go to the movies after this?”

Hal’s face pinched. “Jesus kid, you really wanna see that midnight showing, don’t you?”

“Well, the child actor in the movie is like me,” they theorized. “Super smart way above their classmates’ levels.” Shooting them a bored stare, they said, “If you weren’t home-schooling me, I’d be a college graduate by now.”

He rolled his eyes and ruffled their hair again. “I gotta go. Don’t move,” he warned. “I’m serious. Stay right here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He gave them one last look, then hurried off down the hallway.

***

It’d been an hour or so before they’d heard any movement, but when they did, it was above their head, brushing over the back of the couch. Hal had told them the Watchtower was completely safe, so they didn’t immediately panic. Whoever or whatever it was, was friendly.

“What are you playing?” The person—a man by the low gravel of their voice—asked.

“The new Pokémon game,” they murmured. “It’s easy compared to the other games.”

“How far back through them have you played?”

They pursed their lips, thinking for a moment. “Uncle Barry had his Game Boy and the original Red and Blue still in their cases.” Holding up the console, they said, “Hal bought me the Switch and Pokémon Sword and Shield the other weekend.”

“How do you like the newest games compared to the oldest ones?”

“They’re easier, built for a fun rather than a competitive, skilled mode.” They grinned as they caught a Lucario. “I haven’t lost a single battle since I started playing last week. Honestly, the last Pokémon games that actually made me try were HeartGold and SoulSilver.” Letting out a bored, ‘pfft’, they added, “Every game after that is all about building up a dream team and completely obliterating every opponent.”

“What’s your dream team?” they asked.

“Aurorus, Charizard, Gardevoir, Greninja, Lapras, and Lucario.” They shrugged. “I substitute Lapras out for Talonflame or Yveltal from time to time.”

“How do you play?”

“Offensively. I build up my teams stats then just take things head on.”

“No moves that boost defense?”

“Players that focus on stat moves are losers. Play hard to win or don’t play at all,” they griped, finally turning to look at the mystery man. “You’re Batman.”

He peered at them through his white cowl. “I am.”

“Why do you know so much about Pokémon?” they inquired. “You’re awfully knowledgeable for a grown man who takes down supervillains.”

Nodding, he replied, “My third son loves the games. He’d probably get the crap knocked out of his team by yours.”

They grinned. “Lemme guess, he focuses on stat moves?”

“Mhm.”

“Loser,” they snorted.

Suddenly, Batman looked rather serious. “Why are you out here all alone?”

“Hal had a meeting and couldn’t find a babysitter. The other guys were busy too.”

“They take care of you as well?”

“Yeah. I stay with Hal or John when they’re on earth, Hal mostly. Kyle and Guy keep an eye on my when I’m on Oa.”

“You’ve been to Oa?”

“A few times. Weird place. Weirder aliens and people.”

“What about school?”

“Hal home-schools me.”

“How come?” he questioned, watching them trample another player.

“I’m really smart. Like Einstein genius smart.” They shrugged. “Hal said it’d be easier to avoid attention if we home-school me.”

“Do you like it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not growing up around kids your own age. You’re by yourself a lot.”

“I was on the streets before Kyle found me,” they retorted. “I’m used to being on my own. And besides, kids my age are annoying. They’re still stuck in the play stage of development and I’m in the ask really inquisitive questions and solve impossible physics problems stage.”

Batman chuckled. “You’re pretty smart then, yeah?”

“Yeah.” They shut off their Switch and shoved it in their backpack. “Hal and the others can’t keep up.”

Getting off the sofa, they wandered over to the vending machines, sure that Batman was following them. They tried to reach the number pad, but couldn’t, frowning as they turned to him and held their arms up.

“Help me.”

He bent down and lifted them, letting them press the buttons; when they were finished, he didn’t set them down, merely carried them as they opened the chip bag and snacked. They were apparently content to lean onto his shoulder, head tucked under his chin. Batman gently rocked them, as he walked around, and soon they felt their eyelids falling shut.

***

“—ere are they!”

They awoke to shouting, startled by the sound of Hal’s panicked and scared voice. Batman’s hand touched their side. “It’s okay.”

“Hal’s worried,” they murmured, eyes droopy, tone sleep laced.

“Kid!” Hal’s voice was close now, then they were being yanked out of Batman’s arms and into the Green Lantern’s, life practically squeezed out of them. “Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me.”

“They were fine,” Batman sighed. “I had them.”

“I’m not talking to you!” Hal griped. “You okay?”

“Can’t—breathe—” they gasped and immediately his arms loosened, letting them inhale deeply. “‘M fine.”

“Come on, I’ve got your backpack. Let’s go home.”

As they walked off, Batman’s voice reached them. “You need to enroll them in a school that’ll let them grow and mature with other kids their age.”

Hal spun, fire in his voice as he snapped, “Don’t tell me how to raise my kid.”

When they turned the corner and walked to the Zeta tubes, they asked, “Do you mean that?”

“Mean what?” Hal asked.

“That I’m your kid?”

Their voice sounded so far, so lost, so…afraid. Afraid of hope, afraid of love, afraid of another parent leaving them on the streets, turning their back on them like all the rest did before.

Hal pulled back so he could stare at them, and he took their small chin in his hand, affirming, “Absolutely.” His eyes were serious but still warm. “You’re my kid and you always will be. And if anyone, and I mean anyone, tried to take you from me…I’d raise hell and so would your uncles to keep you with us.”

Tears flooded their eyes and they sniffed, burying their face in Hal’s neck.

He smiled, gently petting the back of their head. “I love you, kid.”

#lanternfamily x reader imagine #lanternfamily x reader imagines #lanternfamily x reader #lanternfamily imagine #lanternfamily imagines #lanternfamily #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc comics #hal jordan #john stewart #guy gardner #kyle rayner #green lanterns #green lantern #green lantern corps #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #dc

[waitimcomingtoo]

Lovestruck and Lipstick Stained

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

synopsis: you and Tom don’t feel entirely out of characters after playing lovers in the MCU

thank you to @snowrosestonight​ for the idea!

Masterlist

“Well hey there Spiderman.”

You walked up to Tom at one of the many photoshoots of the press tour with a cheeky smile. He was dressed in his suit, a sight you had grown to love very dearly. Your time as Gwen Stacy in the MCU had been incredibly memorable, all thanks to Tom.

“Hey yourself.” Tom folded his arms and clocked your outfit, a white t shirt with Spider-Man’s mask in the shape of a heart and skin tight jeans. “Nice jeans. I think I can see the spare change in your pocket.”

You looked down at your jeans and pointed your foot, flexing the cherry red heels they’d put you in and laughed.

“I’m sure they’re no tighter than the suit. And at least I can go to the bathroom without a team to help me.” You teased him as you poked out your tongue.

“Don’t disrespect the suit.” Tom pretended to be insulted. “I recall saving your life a few times in it.”

“I mean no disrespect. Honestly, I never get tired of seeing you in that suit. It’s like a rush of endorphins every time.” You chuckled as you ran your fingertips down his arm. Tom couldn’t feel it through his many layers of material, but the act alone sent shivers down his spine.

“That’s how I felt when I saw that T-Shirt. Seriously, did they mold that to your body?” He teased as he eyed your ridiculously tight shirt. It was a classic look MJ had worn in the comics, and the wardrobe department wanted to pay homage to it. You had felt a little self conscious with the form fitting the ensemble was, but Toms comments had taken the edge off.

“A lady never reveals her secrets.” You shrugged playfully.

“Well you look amazing, darling. You should wear this more often.” Tom complimented as his eyes took their time going down your body. You stepped closer to him and fixed some stray hairs of his that had fallen out of place.

“You know, I just might.” You smiled as you touched up his hair. A content smile rested on Toms lips as comfortable silence settled between you.

“Are you two ready to go?” A set assistant came up to you, taking your attention away from each other.

“I think we are.” You answered for Tom and yourself.

“Let’s get started.”

You were lead onto set and given a mark to stand on. The flash of the camera wasn’t something you were used to yet, but having Tom directly at your side calmed your nerves.

You popped one of your legs up and gave the camera a sultry smile as you clung to Tom. There was a wind machine blowing your hair back as you posed, only adding to the magic. You switched up your face and position but never took your hands off Tom, and he did the same.

“Tom, can you put your hand in Y/n’s back pocket?” One of the photographers asked between shots.

“Is that okay with you?” Tom asked quietly, so only you could hear as he looked at you for permission.

“I prefer it.” You told him as you gave his face a once over. Tom smirked and held your gaze as he slid his hand into your back pocket, letting the cameras capture it. You winked at him before turning your attention back to the photographer, posing for a few more minutes before you took a break.

“Everyone take five. Great work guys.” The photographer smiled at the two of you before walking off set. You slowly untangled yourself from Tom, chuckling shyly as he slid his hand out of your pocket.

“That wasn’t too hard.” You joked as you walked towards your chairs on the set. Four women immediately came over to touch up your hair and makeup as you and Tom spoke.

“Hard? Looking pretty is my day job.” Tom scoffed and pretended to flip hair over his shoulder.

“And looking like I’m in love with you is mine.” You tweaked an eyebrows as someone fixed your hair.

“You do it so well.” Tom boasted. “Best I’ve ever seen, really.”

“Well, you know. I get lots of practice.” You shrugged casually. “And when looking at such a pretty face, it’s not that hard to look in love.” You teased him as you squished his cheeks. Tom laughed and pushed you off, smiling in gratitude at the hair and makeup people as they left.

“I, uh, I got pretty familiar with your back pocket today.” Tom said, keeping his yes down as he took a step towards you.

“Yeah.” You looked away as you felt your cheeks flush. “Not many get to say they’ve had that experience.”

“I better thank my lucky stars then, huh?” Tom folded his arms, giving you a cocky smile. You pursed your lips and rolled your eyes at him, not wanting him to get the upper hand.

“Yeah.” You spike softly, your breath fanning his face. “You better.”

With his chest touching yours now, Tom opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the set assistant.

“Are you guys ready to continue?” He asked, not realizing what he was interrupting. You and Tom shared own last look, heavy with disappointment, as you stepped away from each other and nodded.

“You got the lipstick, right?” He asked you. You looked at Tom in confusion, only to find him a blushing mess.

“Lipstick?” You asked.

“You’re gonna cover Tom’s face in lipstick stains for the second half of the photo shoot.” The assistant informed you, and you immediately understood the blush. Your cheeks flames up in a crimson of their own as you realized you’d have to kiss your best friend again after so many months without it.

“I got it.” Tom bashfully held up tube of red lipstick, avoiding eye contact with you. You stared at the tube, your mind drifting back to the long days on set where you and Tom, or Peter and Gwen, would kiss for hours until you got the perfect take.

“Awesome. Do you need any help Y/n?” The assistant asked you, snapping you out of your daze. You blinked a few times as you came back to reality and shook your head.

“I think I can manage.” You squeaked.

“Great. See you guys in a few.”

The assistant left you alone to get ready, a nervous flutter going through you as he left.

“Did you know about this?” You eyed Tom skeptically as you took the tube of lipstick from him.

“Oh, darling.” Tom snorted. “It was my idea.”

Your jaw dropped as he shrugged smugly and gave him a playful shove.

“You don’t quit, do you?” You clicked your tongue as you opened the lipstick, begging to apply it in the mirror as you held eye contact with him.

“No I do not.” He said proudly as he took a seat in his chair. “You said my face was pretty, right? Come make it even prettier.”

Tom beckoned you over with his fingers, making you gulp as you finished putting on your lipstick.

“Okay.” You waltzed over you him, dragging your finger along the side of your mouth to clean up the line. You put a knee between Toms legs and propped yourself up, leaning over him as you leaned your hands on each of his armrests.

“I think I’ll put one here.” You spoke softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Here.” Corner of the mouth.

“Both cheeks.” You narrated in a hushed tone as you pressed a kiss to either sides of his face. You could feel how hot his skin was under your lips, and it made you smile.

“This is already my favorite photo shoot.” Tom chuckled as you reapplied your lipstick and placed kisses along his hairline.

“Me too.” You mumbled before covering his neck and jawline in the red lipstick stains. After his neck was decently covered, you leaned back to admire your work. Tom looked at you with heavy eyelids, swimming in bliss as he drummed his fingers on your hips.

“One more.” You decided. “To top it off.”

You leaned in and placed a searing kiss to his lips, leaving a bright red mark in your wake.

“Good call.” Tom gave you a dopey smile one you pulled away.

“Come on.” You got up and took his hand. “Let’s go get our picture taken.”

~

“Wait, look.” You stopped walking to your hotel on your way back from the photoshoot when a certain building caught your eye. Tom stopped with you, as your arm had been linked through his.

“What are we looking at? A tattoo shop?” He looked at you curiously.

“Yeah. I was thinking of getting one to commemorate my time as Gwen Stacy.” You admitted as you shyly scratched behind your ear.

“What did you want to get?”

“Nothing crazy or anything.” You shrugged. “I just want something small to represent my role.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Tom asked as you walked inside the shop.

“About a million.” You chuckled. “That’s my problem. I can’t decide.”

“Well what’s your favorite scene?” He asked you as he browsed the artwork on the walls of the shop.

“I like when Peter sets up a picnic on the giant web. It’s my favorite scene visually and I, uh, I liked shooting it.” You looked at him timidly through your lashes. It was a great day on set, getting to cuddle into Toms side for eight hours straight. It held fond memories for the both of you.

“So there you go.” Tom half smiled. “Get a web.”

“You think I should?” You wanted his approval before you went through with anything.

“Yeah. You know how I know it’s the right move?” He raises his eyebrows.

“How?”

“That’s my favorite scene too.” He winked at you and pulled you towards the reception desk.

“Then I’ll do it.” You decided. “Under one condition, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I want you to do it.” You told him.

“Darling, I don’t know the first thing about tattoos.” He warned you.

“I don’t care.” You shook your head. “You were my partner in this and if it’s gonna be on my body forever, I want you to do it. It has to be you.”

“I would be honored, love.” Tom smiled softly. “Just remember how much you love me as your partner when it turns out horrible.”

“That will just add to the charm.” You shrugged it off, feeling confident in your decision.

“Are you sure they’ll let me do it on you?” He wondered as the receptionist came to the desk.

“We’re celebrities. They’ll let us do anything.” You laughed before explaining what you wanted done. Within thirty minutes, you were in a chair with Tom at your side. He was armed with a tattoo gun, bouncing his leg nervously as someone else loaded it with ink.

“I need both hands to do this, so you’ll have to squeeze my knee instead if it hurts.” Tom said sympathetically, wishing he could hold your hand to ease your pain.

“Okay. Try to be gentle.” You braced yourself, already squeezing his knee out of fear.

“Right. I’ll just use the gentle setting on the gun.” Tom replied sarcastically, your laughter replacing your fear.

“Just shut up and do me.” You covered your eyes with your hands and turned away.

“Oh? Someones feeling romantic.” Tom poked fun at your accidental innuendo.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You whined.

“Sure you didn’t, darling. Are you okay to start?” He asked.

“Yeah. Just do it.” You gulped and squeezes your eyes shut as Tom began to freehand a web. There was an actual tattoo artist beside him, instructing him on what to do as he worked. The pain wasn’t as bad as you thought it was, but it didn’t feel great either. You squeezed his knee for an hour straight until you heard the relieving words.

“All done.” Tom said proudly as the buzzing from the gun stopped.

“Is my arm still there?” You asked, still facing away.

“It’s still there, love.” Tom chuckled as he wiped it down. “Do you wanna see it?”

“Yeah.” You beamed as Tom helped you sit up. You excitedly held out your arm. You looked at your tattoo and felt the air get knocked out of your lungs.

“Tom.” You mumbled as you stared at the tattoo.

“Do you like it?” He asked hopefully, staring at your face to read your reaction.

“It’s horrible.” You stared as you gaped at the misshapen web Tom had permanently put on your body. Toms heart stopped when he discovered that you didn’t like it.

“Darling, I’m sorry.” He apologized sincerely. “I told you I wasn’t-“

“I love you.” You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “And I love it. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Really?” He gasped.

“Thank you so much. It’s perfect.” You threw your other arm around him and hugged him tightly as tears of joy streamed down your face.

“I’m glad I could help.” He smiled as he rubbed your back. “I’m definitely going to need a picture of my work.”

“Go ahead. The world deserves to see this masterpiece.” You beamed as Tom took out his phone. He went live on Instagram and held his phone up to his face.

“Guys, Y/n made a really bad decision and let me tattoo her. Wait, how do I flip the camera?” He looked at you for help as you laughed.

“Like this, sweetness.” You tapped his screen twice and held out your arm.

“Okay. Look at this. This is pretty good for my first time.” Tom praised himself as he took your arm and gently twisted it to show off the whole thing.

“I’m in love with it. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” You smiled gratefully as Tom panned the camera up to your face.

“The smile on your face right now is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Look at this girl. How cute is she?” Tom gushed as he squished your cheeks with his free hand.

“I’m just so happy. Look at my tattoo!” You happily held your arm out, absolutely in love with what he had done.

“It’s pretty shit.” Tom laughed at his crooked lines.

“Stop it!” You scolded him. “This is my favorite thing in the entire world right now. And forever.”

“I’m glad you like it. Just like how you guys are gonna like our movie.” He managed to turn the camera around to wink.

“You’re gonna love it. I love it and I’ve never seen it.” You came into view as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You heard the girl. Go see our movie.” Tom commanded as he wrapped his free arm around your waist to hold you close.

“Out next week!” You chirped before he shut the camera off. You let a professional wrap the tattoo before you paid and left the shop. Tom held your hand as you walked down the street, his way of making up for not being able to hold it while you got the tattoo.

“Hey, speaking of the movie, we have the premier in a week and I haven’t picked an outfit.” Tom realized as you neared your hotel.

“Really? I picked my dress the day I was cast.” You joked, tugging Tom into the lobby.

“I fully believe you.” He laughed. “What are you wearing?”

“I have a picture. Here.” You handed him your phone as you got into an elevator. Tom looked at the picture of you in a floor length, off the shoulder, royal blue ball gown that you had taken in a fitting room. His jaw immediately dropped at the sight of you as his heart picked up speed.

“You look incredible. Can you send this to me?” He asked sweetly as he looked up from the phone.

“Sure, but it’s not even the whole look.” You laughed shyly as he gawked at you. “I’m gonna have hair, makeup, and heels on the day of the premier. Plus jewelry.”

“You’re forgetting the most important part.” He clicked his tongue.

“What’s that?”

“Me as your arm candy.” Tom winked at you and handed your phone back.

“How could I forget you? My partner.” You took his hand and squeezed it ostentatiously.

“You keep calling me that, and I kind of love it. I think of you as my partner too.” He said shyly as he played with your fingers.

“Then we should match at the premier. We can show everyone our partnership.” You said as the idea came to you.

“You’re wearing blue…”

“So you wear red.” You finished his sentence. “You’ve always looked good in red.”

“Done.” Tom decoded. “I’ll tell my stylist tomorrow.”

“Awesome.” You smiled as you got to your floor.

“Hey, darling?” Tom asked as you stepped off the elevator.

“Yes?” You stopped in the hallway so you could give him your full attention.

“Would you be my date to the premier?” He asked as his lips curved into a smile. You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded before you could form words.

“I would love too.” You told him. His face lit up like a Christmas tree as he rushed at you, picking you up and spinning you around as he hugged you tightly.

“Yes!” He cheered. “Everyones gonna be jealous of me.”

“Alright, alright.” You laughed as he set you down. “Save that energy for the premier.”

“Trust me darling, I will.” Tom grinned as he stood outside his hotel room, directly across from yours.

“Goodnight, idiot.” You rolled your eyes at him as you stood in your doorway.

“Goodnight Princess.” He blew you a kiss, making you groan. You went inside and shut your door, but Tom stayed out for a moment, looking at your door wistfully before going on himself.

~

“Are you all done?” You asked as you walked into Toms room while putting in your earring. It was the day of the premier and you had gotten ready in separate rooms like a bride and groom.

“Yeah I’m all…oh my God.” His sentence quickly changed course when he saw you. His jaw was slack as he gawkers at you, taking his time in taking you in.

“Do you like it?” A pink tint covered your face when you saw how star struck he was, making you look down shyly.

“What! What?!” Tom was still in awe as he looked you over, unable to believe how good you looked.

“Stop it. You look incredible.” You complimented him, and he did.

“You look so good!” He exclaimed. “Darling, you take my breath away.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself. Red is definitely your color.” You praised as he twirled you under his arm. His deep red suit perfectly complimented his skin tone and made him look extravagant, especially with the glasses he had opted for. Tom rested his hands on your shoulders and looked at you dress with a proud smile.

“I can’t get over you.” He shook his head in disbelief. “The color blue was made just for you. You look ravishing, love. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled as you pulled him into a hug. Neither of you wanted to admit it, but you both knew this was the last time you’d be together in this way. After tonight, the movie would be out and you’d no longer be on the press tour together. Because of this unspoken feat, the hug lingered a little longer than usually.

“You ready?” Tom asked as he rested his chin on your head.

“Ready.”

~

You walked out onto the red carpet together, hand in hand as the crowd roared. Tom kept one hand on your back as you stopped to pose for the cameras.

“We look like a couple.” He leaned down to say into your ear.

“A couple of besties.” You said without looking at him as you parted his chest. He tightened his grip on your waist as he continued smiling at the cameras.

“I hate you so much for saying that.” He laughed as he held you closer.

“Aw. But I love you.” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. The press cheered for you as you made your way down the carpet.

“Let’s do something different poses.” Tom suggested as you fixed your dress.

“Okay. Prom pose has to be first.” You said eagerly as you turned around. Tom wrapped his arms around you from behind and posed like you were going to prom.

“That was so stupid.” He shook his head with laughter as he let go of you.

“Here. Gaze lovingly into my eyes.” You instructed as you turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Why?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he complied.

“So the fans can say “look at the way they look at each other” and swoon.” You laughed as you tugged on the lapel of his jacket. Tom rolled his eyes before placing his other hand on the small of your back and gazing, as you put it, lovingly into your eyes. You put your hand on his cheek to keep his face in place and let the paparazzi have a field day.

You walked a few places down the red carpet before getting into a new pose, this time wrapping your arms around his neck as he kept his arms around your waist.

“We look like the Twilight poster.” You whispered in his ear before smoldering at the press.

“Which one?” Tom chuckled as he looked at you with all the adoration in the world

“All of them.” You told him as you kept your perfectly manicured hand over her heart.

“I want to do the Will Smith pose.” Tom decided, taking a step away from you and opening his arms like he was presenting you. You covered you mouth as you laughed loudly, feeling a warm sense of joy as Tom held his arms out to behold you. You looked at him fondly and blew him a kiss.

“I feel like artwork.” You shouted over the roar of the press.

“You look like it too.” Tom shouted back, holding his hand out for you to take. You happily accepted his hand, letting him twirl you before you spun into his chest. Both laughing happily and only seeing each other, the roar of the crowd disappeared. All you could hear was Tom’s laughter, coming deep from his tummy.

“Stop it.” You shyly hid your face in his neck as he held you tightly. Tom took your chin between his fingers and beamed at you, grinning like a child before resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re my best friend.” He said between his laughter, keeping his eyes shut to block out the rest of the world.

“And you’re mine.” You reached up and gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, looking longingly at him even with his eyes shut.

“Let’s go.” He slipped his hand into yours and pulled you along. “We have more red carpet to dazzle.”

~

“It’s over.” Tom let out a breath as he plopped on his bed after the premier. “I can’t believe it over.”

You plopped down next to him and both of you stared at the ceiling in silence. You were exhausted from all the screaming fans, interviews and hours on your feet, but you had never been happier. You reached out and took Toms hand which was lying beside yours and intertwined your fingers with his.

“Honestly Tom, this has been a dream with you. You made my experience better than I ever could’ve imagined. I can’t thank you enough.” You told him as you looked to your side to see him. He turned his head to look at you and gave your hand a squeeze.

“You can thank me by keeping me around.” He mumbled. “Getting to know you has been my favorite part of this whole thing, honest to God. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.”

“I’m sad it’s all coming to an end. I’m gonna miss being with you every day. Eating all our meals together and all that. I loved that.” You spoke softly as you looked down at your hands, trying to hold in tears that came out of nowhere.

“It doesn’t have to end. We can still see each other.” Tom assured you as he propped himself up on his elbow.

“Yeah, but it won’t be the same. You’ll go off and film your next movie and hang out with your newest costar and forget all about me.” You looked up at him sadly. “And yeah, we’ll see each other but it will only be every once in a while. We literally lived together during filming and now I’ll see you every few months. If I’m lucky.”

“Then let’s keep living together.” Tom said as if the idea had been brewing in the back of his mind for a while.

“What?” You lifted your neck a little to get a better look at him.

“I’m serious. Let’s move in together. Who says this ever has to end?” His eyes were hopeful skies with anxious clouds as he waited for your answer. You stared at him a moment as you pondered it, but deep down you knew the answer straight away.

“I don’t want it to.” You mumbled. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You never will.” Tom smiled softly as he brushed a stray hair off of your nose.

“Good.” You stated firmly. “Then let’s move in together to make sure of it.”

“Alright.” He left out a happy sigh and fell on his back. “We can start looking for a flat tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You covered your grin and turned away, not wanting him to see how happy it made you that he felt the same connection you did.

“All the fans are saying we look like a couple.” Tom said suddenly, handing you his phone that was open to twitter. The ship name your fans had coined for you and Tom was number one on trending, Tom was number two, and you were number three. Taking his phone in your hands, you scrolled through a few of the many rows of tweets saying you and Tom made, would make, or were a perfect couple. You couldn’t help but smiling seeing that millions of people wanted you to date your best friend.

“Oh my goodness.” You chuckled as you handed his phone back. “That’s another weird thing. I’m so used to kissing you and acting like I’m your girlfriend from filming. I have to stop myself from being all over you when I see you. I guess I’m still not fully out of character.”

“I have a pretty simple solution for that.” Tom quipped, clicking his phone off and turned on his side to look at you.

“Tell me.” You smirked as you rolled on your side as well.

“You wouldn’t have to stop yourself from being all over me if you…” Tom trailed off and squeezed his eyes shut like he lost his nerve.

“If I what?” You wondered, putting your hand over his to reassure him.

“If you were my girlfriend.” He spoke timidly. “Who says our love has to be limited to the screen?”

“Are you asking me out, Holland?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry if I misread the moment.” His face fell when he thought you didn’t feel the same. “ I thought we-“

You didn’t let him finish, leaning forward and kissing him instead. A hesitant hand molded against your hip as he kissed you back, smiling against your lips until you pulled away.

“You thought right.” You laughed breathlessly. “Whether we’re in front of a camera or not, I want to be your girlfriend.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort @foreverxholland @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101​ @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines​ @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @the-crazy-fanfictionist​ @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow​ @jillanaholland​ @unbelievableholland @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill​ @sovereignparker​ i @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever​ @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow​ @fiantomartell​ @solarxmoonchild​ @where-art-thau-romeo @canyouevencauseicant​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop​ @smilexcaptainx​ @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah​ @kickingn-ames​ @purefluffykiwi​ @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues​ @electraheart-3174​ @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess​ @spideyanakin​ @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind​  @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie​ @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258 @maybemona​ @young-romanoff​ @alexxcorona113 @spidey-reids-2003 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @itstaskeen

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfic #tom holland friends to lovers #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #marvel #spiderman

[leroyzboots]

you and i are trying, together.

part two.

The amount of unease that can fit into Tommy's more-than-human-less-than-god body is honestly surprising.

Tommy paces back and forth on the floor of the Lambda lab, his Beyblade whirring between his fingers and his precious immortal dog following behind him with love.

They'd arrived at around half past midnight, but it's now early morning and there's been no sign of the other two members of the science team.

Bubby leans back in their chair, crossing his knee-high laced boots over their knee, and bounces the other one out of anxiety.

"Tommy," he barks; "you're scaring the other scientists."

Tommy glances down and realizes that the Beyblade is whizzing madly in the air around his hands, suspended from nothing.

"D-dammit," He mutters, snatching his toy back and returns it to his pocket.

"They sho-should have been back by now."

Tommy stops pacing for a second and stares down the Coomers with his father's intensity.

"Surely, Benrey could have used teleportation?" Harold chimes in, his knuckles bruised slightly from his repeated stims.

"I think that's what he meant, dear," Bubby replies, patting their husband's shoulder affectionately.

"Yes, exactly!"

Tommy throws his hands into his pockets, huffing out his frustration.

"The f-fact that they're not...back yet! Means something has gone-"

A enormous thud echoes from the the floor, a piece of tile juts out slightly and scatters the scientists nearby.

"Wrong," Tommy finishes miserably, drawing his gun and preparing for Xen's creatures.

Beside him, Sunkist snarls, her hackles raised in warning.

The tile cracks and shoots into the air, with accompanying gunfire from below, and a hatch busts open from the hole.

Tommy aims to shoot, but immediately lowers his gun upon seeing Mr. Freeman's tired but happy face, followed closely by Benrey, the bags under his eyes looking darker than usual.

"G-Gordon!!"

Tommy rushes forward, embracing them both, and the knots of tension unravel in his stomach.

Benrey snuggles just a little closer into Tommy's coat, and Tommy releases Gordon to pull Benrey into a full hug.

--

Tommy planned on never admitting it to himself, but these two were the people he loved the most.

Benrey..he'd known Benrey for years.

It started when Benrey was just out of training, and Tommy had completed his certification to become a top scientist.

Benrey was 19, maybe 20 at the oldest, his hair pulled into a ponytail that ran down his back.

They weren't close, then, Benrey had been assigned to guard the G-Man's adopted son.

Benrey couldn't die, and Tommy's line of work was dangerous enough to need protection.

So it all worked out.

They barely exchanged more than a few words to eachother until that one night, that one fucking night and Benrey is tripping over himself in tears, blood pouring from the wound on his back and he's clutching Tommy, pawing at his shoulders.

Benrey trembled like he's made from glass and will break if he falls, and Tommy gripped the back of the others security vest so tightly the kevlar nearly rips in half.

And that's saying something.

That night they sat together and they're closer in distance than they've ever been, Tommy's warm and gentle hands bandaged the wound above the numbers tattooed onto Benrey's tailbone and Benrey spilled everything.

Between sniffles and the occasional sob, Benrey confessed, about the tools that somehow hurt him beyond regeneration, leaving a scar, about the men and their evil sticks of lightning that would seep into his bones and fill him with pain so intense he felt like he would break in half.

Tommy nearly broke in half himself.

He felt helpless, and so he went to the only person he knew would make the ones who hurt his first and only friend pay dearly-

His father.

Oh, Tommy had never seen the G-man so angry.

Black Mesa was a research facility, for god's sake, dedicated to the study of alien life and the progression of the human body.

So when Tommy's dad realized that the prototype imprisonment he had resolved several years ago had resurfaced with an even uglier face, he sent scientists who had never experienced fear in their lives tripping for the door in yelps of terror.

And that had been the end of it.

Benrey continued his job as a security guard, people who had previously been made in the facility were hired back on as scientists in new departments such as mixology and cybernetics, and Black Mesa cut its ties with the military.

Black Mesa, Benrey explained later in his own broken way to Tommy in the quiet breakroom during lunch hour, had been trying to create the perfect human being.

There were thousands upon thousands of prototypes that had been created, and Benrey had been the last.

But there had always been something wrong with the ones they created, whether it was serious physical or mental deformities, or simply a sense of fucked up little creature that ended up resulting in the insane amount of scientists with the ability to grow in size, and the security guards that always had a few too many rows of teeth or glowing eyes and severe anger issues.

They weren't always grown in tubes, Tommy learned, but they were always branded with their serial number on the base of the spine.

The one before him, Benrey quipped with a mouthful of sandwich, had been born to a prototype and a normal human employee, before they stripped them out with a memory wipe and sent them into normal society.

The anxious feeling that haunted Tommy in the years that followed had something to do with that piece of information in particular.

Something told him that the military and the alien planet they were studying wouldn't let go of Black Mesa kindly.

Mr. Freeman confirmed that.

He's in the hallway, on his way to get a soda, when he's met with a newer employee, only worked here about 4 or so years.

He seemed kind enough, if a little loud and stubborn. And alright, maybe it hurt Tommy's feelings when Gordon called him a freak, but that was pushed aside with the Resonance Cascade.

Tommy knew that this was it, this was the boot boys' revenge for cutting them out of the picture, but there was something else, distinctly and unsettlingly alien about the Cascade.

The whole of Black Mesa fell into shambles, with creatures of Xen integrating into their carefully built walls and lives, and Tommy kinda freaked, okay?

He'd seen Dr. Coomer around, always greeting him with a wonderful "Hello!!", and was met with a thrill in his stomach when he introduced another prototype as his husband.

Those two had been with him, in the observation room when the project exploded around Gordon and Benrey-

he wasn't supposed to be in the test chamber, what if it seriously hurt him?-

And maybe that was when Tommy realized he was in love with Benrey.

Over time, he felt a sense of conflict slowly building as he made friends with Mr. Freeman.

He seemed to hate Benrey, they hated eachother, but Tommy liked one and loved the other so he became their middle ground.

He was convinced to himself that Benrey liked him as well, until that room, that dark, dark room, and suddenly Benrey is kneeling in a puddle of Gordon's blood and Bubby is screaming, sobbing, blubbering his apologies to anyone who is listening as the soldiers drag them away and Benrey-

He says it, he says those words and it breaks Tommy's heart into a billion pieces-

"Because I love him, okay?! I'm fucking- whoop-de-doo, in love with Gordon god. G-goddamn Freeman, okay?..."

And then Benrey teleports, and he's gone, and Bubby is gone and Dr. Coomer leaves him in the cold dark sewer by himself.

Tommy cried.

Burying his head in his coat, he cried hard and long, alone on the rocky floor.

And then Mr. Freeman crawls out of the pipe, and Tommy can't help it, he holds him.

Gordon reeks of sewage and his bloody hand smells of copper but Tommy doesn't care, and alright, maybe that's when Tommy realized he's in love with Gordon too.

Alright, Tommy can deal with that.

Something Tommy can't deal with is the fact that his instincts are going fucking haywire.

Tommy's always been very perceptive when it comes to time, maybe he can't stop time like his father can, but he's definitely got a certain sense of time and reality as it surrounds him.

Being able to reach out and touch and feel certain areas, but not control them, and all of time is wrapped around him like a blanket.

So when the floor crumbles away below them and Benrey and Gordon fall deep into the recesses of Black Mesa's hellscape, Tommy freaks the fuck out.

A deep, inherent concern lays nested in the pit of his mind like a pile of cottonmouth snakes, hissing madly and snarling that something, something, is absolutely wrong with how this is supposed to go.

Tommy has a sinking feeling that something terrible is going to happen.

--

Man, Benrey really hates this place.

The scientists of the Lambda lab asked a simple request of the Science Team- go through the portal to Xen, get rid of the Nihilanth, bring back some weird space shit.

Easy as pie.

Right?

Wrong.

Benrey feels sick, feverish on this planet.

As he follows behind the group, his legs feel leaden and heavy, and he tugs at the collar of his uniform, which feels uncomfortably tight around his neck.

He's sweating, unusually warm beneath his helmet, but shivering as though chilled to his bones.

There's a tug, deep in his torso, pulling him along, but it's a nasty, oppressive feeling that makes his limbs feel like noodles.

He swallows nervously, eyes darting across the fetid, blood colored planet of Xen.

The sour smell clogs his senses, and as they trudge deeper and deeper through the portals, away from the floating rocks with little gravity and past strange barrels of highly toxic looking liquid, the heavy pull in Benrey's chest only grows stronger and more sickly.

They push through a final, puke-green portal, and the feeling inside of Benrey swells to near explosion.

A cave, with jagged and dark stone running up the walls in wicked cracks, a deep red flush to the area.

Water is flooding Benrey's boots, a putrid and decaying smell to the liquid, and it only adds to Benrey's fatigue.

The creature before them could only be the Nihilanth itself, and the very sight sends such a fucking shudder down Benrey's spine.

It's disgusting, twisted and pulsating flesh running down what must be its face, beady eyes in a cadaverous socket.

It looks like a fetus, a failed attempt of termination long after the allotted time.

It speaks, and the chorus of voices that accompanies it gives away the fact that Xen isn't just the planet-

It's the entire race.

"So. The humans have finally decided to be rid of us."

Gordon looks tired, beaten, but pulls himself upward and grunts through the pain of his broken shin.

"Get your video game dialogue out of the way," he says, with a dismissive wave of his gun-hand.

"I'm about done with this alien shit."

The Nihilanth laughs, a hideous and painful sound, and tilts its head in curiosity towards the little group of vagabonds.

"But you have brought us the very thing we need, Mr. Freeman."

Gordon groans in frustration, turning back to his friends with his teeth grinding against eachother.

"Why does it know my name?"

Xens' audience shrieks with delight, and the Nihilanth's barely feasible mouth twists into what can only be guessed as a grin.

"Xen knows everything about you, Mr. Freeman."

Benrey sways on the spot, his boots splashing the strange water, and the scene before him blurs.

"Whadda....what the hell are you..talking about, man?"

Xen's creatures seem to roar with laughter, and beside Benrey, Dr. Coomer throws up his fists protestingly.

"Xen has been all knowing, all seeing since time begun. As we grow, so do our minds, until we are forced to repopulate. Regrow."

Beneath their feet, headcrabs scuttle ominously, causing Tommy to jump backward with surprise.

"But human beings became a problem for Xen. Their flimsy bodies failed, burst open upon integration."

Benrey is only just awake enough to process this.

"The scientists of Black Mesa were so eager to learn of a new planet. So Xen took influence, and under the guise of building a perfect human being, created what Xen needed."

Gordon scoffs, his shoulders shaking as he laughs scornfully.

Xen reacts strongly, a collective hiss rising around them.

"Do not laugh at us, human."

The headcrabs stay at a distance, but raise their pincers and click them menacingly as the Nihilanth's speech continues.

"Xen required a human being who could withstand radiation, a being who could lose blood en mass and not perish."

A sense of dread washes over the Science Team, and Tommy instinctively puts himself in front of Gordon.

Bubby ignites his arms protectively.

"Let me guess," Gordon growls, revving up his minigun limb; "you needed me?"

Xen's creatures wail in joy, and Benrey takes that as a yes, and reaches for his gun, when something big and poisonous and slimy wraps around his ankle.

"Xen requires Benrey."

Benrey yelps as the Nihilanth drags him underneath the water, bubbles of Sweet Voice trailing from his mouth as his back bounces on the cragged floor beneath the surface.

The Nihilanth swings him into the air, and Benrey splutters, ears waterlogged under his helmet, which slips from his head and falls to the ground with a splash, Benrey's short black hair now dripping wet.

"Look at you, our once perfect vessel- a mewling, pathetic dog."

Hung upside down by his ankle, Benrey gasps in pain as Xen shakes him repeatedly, and for a brief, sickening moment, Benrey is forcibly reminded of the Finding Nemo movie Tommy showed him-

He feels like a fish in Darla's little bag.

"Bark, bark, bark but no bite. You were made with Xen's own blood and yet you cannot even protect those you are infatuated with."

With that, the Nihilanth throws him to the far wall, and his skull cracks on the rock.

It doesn't heal, and Benrey slumps down, struggling to stand, his eyesight swimming with tears.

"You think the Freeman human loves you? You cost him a limb. You would be perfect save for your one flaw- you kneel before a man you could kill with no effort, and you beg him to love you as you love him."

Benrey shakes, kneeling, and whimpers as he chokes out a sob, not trying to disguise his tears.

"You truly are nothing."

"No."

The word is tiny, barely audible.

Then again, louder, with a crack of his voice but more than enough power-

"No. You're wrong."

Gordon pulls himself to full height, scowling so deeply the age shows on his face.

"Benrey is everything to us. To all of us, but especially me."

"Y-yeah! We're not afraid of you!" Tommy chimes, and Sunkist howls with approval.

"If you or your alien bitches thought we'd just leave him here, you're just as stupid as you look."

Bubby grins wildly, cracking their neck from side to side, his bright and eager eyes flashing beneath their glasses.

"Don't fuck with the Science Team!" Coomer bellows, and Bubby cheers beside him.

"Now I'm only gonna tell you once," Gordon beams, turning away from his family to draw his gun-hand and point it at Xen's Nihilanth.

"Piss off."

Gordon fires, and the accompanying screams of headcrabs and peeper puppies echo across the cave, and Benrey is overtaken with an aching, sweet feeling he usually associates with Gordon.

It's love.

Benrey smiles fondly as his knees buckle and he falls to the ground and submerges in the murky waters.

--

Benrey wakes up and immediately is struck with a massive goddamn headache.

He closes his eyes and pulls the pillow over his ears, but the pain is there and clearly is not going anywhere, so he's going to have to ask for an aspirin or some shit.

Sitting up makes him so nauseous it's not even funny, so he decides it's not worth it to stand.

A loud snore startles Benrey enough to yelp, and he glances around for the source of the noise.

Sitting hand in hand on the floor, against the wall opposite his bed, are Gordon and Tommy, both bearing signs of wear and both dead asleep.

Gordon is clutching Benrey's helmet so tightly to his shirt it looks uncomfortable, and Tommy is curled protectively around Gordon's shoulders.

They're half dressed, like Black Mesa decided that the HEV suit and a bloody lab coat was not appropriate clothing but also did not have a whole lot of options for back up wear.

Benrey guesses this based on the fact that Gordon's not really wearing pants and Tommy's wearing a t-shirt that says "Birthday Girl".

Something about the fact that they're holding hands hurts Benrey, just a little.

His heart aches for a moment as he remembers the warmth of Gordon's hand and the feeling of a hug from the Beyblade enthusiast who was his best and only friend for a very long time.

Benrey shakes his head, decides he's going to repress it, and yawns.

God, his head hurts.

Benrey figures that if he stands, he's going to trip and probably break something, and since he doesn't trust his regeneration ability right now, he's not risking it.

Instead, he picks up his pillow and heaves it at the two scientists as hard as he can.

Tommy jolts awake, blinking, then smiles widely upon sighting the guard.

"Benrey!!"

Tommy shoots upward, and makes the distance between the wall and the hospital bed in one step, leaving Gordon to slump over and yell in surprise as he hits the floor.

Benrey's pulled into a crushing hug, and he wheezes for Tommy to be gentle.

"S-sorry!" Tommy cries happily, pulling back to take in Benrey's face.

"It's..it's g-good to see you awake."

Gordon stands, still holding the helmet, and wanders over to where Tommy is perched on the edge of the bed.

"You've been out for hours," Gordon adds, gently reaching out with his left hand to ruffle Benrey's hair.

"We were starting to get worried."

Benrey swallows his funny retort for once, instead choosing to spit out some clear blue song in response.

Tommy reads it almost immediately, and excuses himself to get medicine.

Gordon takes his spot on the bed, and just looks over Benrey.

Benrey feels like he's being scrutinized, with Gordon's soft green eyes just roaming over his face.

"Alright. Fucking. Get the questions outta the way," Benrey mumbles irritably, sticking out his tongue.

"I know you're fuckin. Curious about the shit Xen said."

Gordon laughs sweetly, setting the helmet down on the bed next to him and runs his fingers over it fondly.

Benrey takes a note of his new right hand, a grey-black prosthetic that clicks when Gordon moves his knuckles.

"I don't really have any questions," Gordon grins, adjusting his shirt.

"Other than, are you okay?"

Benrey's taken back by this one.

Not only did he cost Gordon his hand and almost his life about thirty billion times, but everyone (including him!) also just found out that Benrey was made with Xen DNA.

He's essentially Gordon's enemy in every sense of the word, and Gordon is asking if he's okay?

"....did the Nihilanth hit your head or somethin', man?? What the hell kinda. Question is that one??"

Gordon's smile softens massively, and it makes Benrey's heart melt into a little puddle in his stomach.

"Benrey, you saved my life a whole shit ton of times back there."

"Yeah, I also almost got you killed," Benrey interrupts, but Gordon doesn't pause.

"I've been thinking about a lot of things while you've been asleep, and I've been talking with Tommy a lot too."

Benrey's happy puddle evaporates into a heavy leaden ball inside of his chest.

"I don't need to hear this, dude."

Gordon looks a little confused, so Benrey keeps going.

"You're. I know you heard the shit Xen said about...."

Benrey pauses, unsure if he wants to say it out loud.

That'll finalize it, forever.

He takes a breath, then with a great effort, says it out loud.

"I love you. Have since we were kids, have since I first met you. Xen was...right. They were fucking right, you're happier with Tommy because he's never hurt you or..fuck. Fuck, man, you don't feel the same and I'm done pushin' it on you. We uhh, clear?"

Gordon covers his mouth with his hand, and for a split second Benrey thinks he's made him cry, but Gordon bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach and snorting in between giggles.

"B-Benny, you idiot, I am in love with you."

Maybe it's the sudden affectionate nickname, or the fact that Gordon said he loves him.

But Benrey blushes, hard, and pink-to-blue sweet voice bubbles out of his mouth in surprise.

"Whuh?"

Tommy walks back into the room, bottle in hand, and pauses at the sight in front of him.

"Oh, are w-we doing conf-confessions now?!"

Before Benrey can even speak, Tommy drops down beside him and kisses him on the cheek, putting him and Gordon's hands in his own.

Tommy doesn't say it, but Benrey gets the point.

"Fucking- FINALLY!!"

Benrey just might die for real.

Bubby leans in the doorway, a smug grin on his face, elbow resting on Dr. Coomer's shoulder.

"Ah, young love is beautiful!"

Tommy and Gordon laugh cheerfully at Dr. Coomer, and Benrey buries his face sheepishly in the blankets.

--

It takes a few days, but Benrey recovers pretty well from the Nihilanth.

He's thought a lot about what Xen said.

And he's decided that they were very wrong about him.

His love for other people isn't a flaw, it's his best quality.

He can and will protect the people he loves with his life, no matter what.

And he knows that the people he loves will do the same for him.

With time, Gordon learns not to flinch at the sight of his right hand, or gag when he drinks a soda.

Benrey learns to accept hugs and snuggles from Tommy, and figures out the jokes that Gordon likes and doesn't like.

Tommy is always there to patch up Benrey's injuries, and learns better responses that don't involve soda when Gordon needs to vent.

So Benrey feels safe, and knows that he's not the only one who's trying to be better.

Benrey and them are trying, together.

#hlvrai #frenrey #tomrey #freelatta #frenreylatta #leafy fics

[1engele]

daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 7. roof

Previous | Next

[warnings: violence mention, smoking, suicide mention]

"i love this feeling. this feeling of calm." — When you and Sal left the unoccupied classroom, the halls were already bustling again. It was easy to remain unseen, as the both of you gently shut the door behind you and slipped into the crowd.

You'd both missed the entirety of your first class.

The school's faculty was unreliable, though—maybe you'd get away with it.

You knew you looked like a hot mess, so you kept your head down as you walked alongside Sal through the halls. He was silent for the time being—but you knew he was there because he walked closely to you.

"Your lipgloss," you hear him say. You look away from the floor to meet his eyes, gazing up at him curiously. "It's messed up."

You nervously laugh. "I'm sure it is—that's what I get for wearing a colored one. I'm sure you're wearing some too, now."

He chuckles, silent for a moment. You bet he's licking his lips. "Yeah. Tastes nice."

Your face feels tingly all over. You raise your fingers to touch your lips, skim over the skin just around them—and sure enough, the sticky residue is all over. You'd kissed most of it off, but a good amount of it had just smeared.

"I'm gonna go freshen up," you say, gesturing toward the girls' bathroom. "I was just laying on a floor a few moments ago."

Sal follows your line of sight. "Okay. I'm gonna head toward my next class. Text me if anything happens."

You smile and wiggle your fingers in farewell as he turns and walks into the dense crowd of students. You breathe out a shaky sigh as a feeling of complete and utter disbelief washes over your body.

When you entered the bathroom, you avoided locking eyes with anyone else inside of it—instead, you made a beeline for a roll of paper towels, ripping off a sheet and crumbling it up in your palm. You moved toward the sink, turned it on, and passed it beneath the steady stream of cold water running from the faucet. You then raised it to your lips and wiped the stickiness off.

Once you'd done that, dried your lips, and thrown the paper towels away, you allowed yourself a moment to stare into the mirror.

It was kind of hard to look at yourself. Every time you made eye contact with your reflection, all you saw was the sight of a head with blue hair between your legs—and pale hands clad with silver rings holding your thighs open.

Your body began to feel fuzzy, so you whisked the thought away, fixed your hair, and continued to your next class.

When it was time to gather in the cafeteria, you ran into Ashley on your way toward it.

"Hey!" She called, approaching you from one side of the hallway. She tucked a wispy strand of hair behind her ear, blinking down at you with lash-fringed green eyes. "Let's walk together."

You had no problem with that. "Sure."

You absentmindedly watched her pull her sleeves down to make sweater paws as the two of you walked side by side.

Your lips felt dry. You wished you knew where your lipgloss had gone. It had been in your jacket pocket earlier—but had fallen out or gotten lost inside of it. You had no clue, but chalked it up as a mysterious disappearance and accepted the loss.

The both of you found Todd first, then Larry and Sal who were together.

A nervous feeling swirled in your gut. You knew Sal wouldn't, you trust him—but something inside of you feared that he'd told Larry what had happened. Which made no sense, on your part. Sal definitely wasn't the type to get up and tell someone directly after having a sexual encounter.

Your anxiety worsened for a different reason when you'd realized that Sal and Larry weren't interacting like you were used to. Larry's body language was stiff—and his features were drawn into a frustrated expression.

The whites of his eyes weren't red anymore, though, so you guessed his high wore off.

Sal didn't seem to be in the same bitter mood the other boy was, but you'd grown accustomed to reading his body language in a lot of different situations—and he didn't seem as chilled out as he normally would be.

Sal was a laidback person. Seeing him so tense was strange.

On the way into the cafeteria, you and Sal were momentarily separated from the rest of the gang after a group of students cut the two of you from the other three. Even though you had this moment of alone time, you didn't ask Sal about his and Larry's behavior. It wasn't your business.

You felt ringed fingers wrap around yours. Your heart jumps, and you seriously think Sal is going to walk you into this cafeteria by the hand—but instead, he raises your arm and places something in your palm.

You look down. It's that pink tube of cherry-flavored lipgloss.

You laugh and meet his eyes. "Where did you find it?"

"I- uh, went back into that classroom," he replies. "I left a ring in there."

The crowd is thinning out, and you watch your friends settle at a table. You redirect your attention back to Sal, inclining your head toward him. "Why did you take them off, anyway?"

He speaks to you closely, leaning toward the side of your face so he can speak lower. His hand ghosts your waist.

You've quickly begun to understand that a huge part of your.. involvement.. with Sal involved a good amount of touching. You weren't uncomfortable with touching him, and that gave him the confidence to not be scared of doing the same to you.

"I thought I'd be using my fingers," he answers, the tone in which he speaks a bit nervous, as you place the lipgloss tube in your jacket pocket. "But I got carried away, I guess."

Your heart pounds against your ribs, anxiousness rushing through your blood more so than your blood did. You want to reply, continue this conversation—but you know this interaction has been going on for too long and you can practically feel someone's eyes burning holes through your back.

You hadn't realized how close you were to him until you'd stepped back. "Come on, we should sit before-"

Before you can even finish, someone's rested their hand on your shoulder. You jerk, instinctively whirling towards the person and bumping back into Sal. You steady yourself quickly and look up to lock eyes with Travis.

"Holy shit," you breathe, genuinely startled. "What the hell?"

Sal hasn't said anything, yet. But you know he isn't very shy. He isn't really afraid of Travis.

"You're in my way," Travis sneers, not looking at you, but at Sal. "Move."

You look around you before meeting his dark eyes and giving him a deadpan expression. You weren't blocking anyone's way, as countless students were continuing to file around the both of you and head towards their tables. "There's more than enough room for you to walk around us." You reply even when he isn't speaking to you.

Travis's gaze locks with yours, pupils dilated. He looks back to Sal. "Your friend here really loves to involve herself in our business, doesn't she, Fisher?"

Your jaw clenches.

"You involved her whenever you touched her," Sal says lowly. His voice grows deeper as he speaks slower. "If you have something to say to me, talk to me."

Travis's face slowly grows red with rage. He jerks, his cross necklace glistens in the corner of your eye, and suddenly his fingers are gripping your arm. You barely have time to process before you're pulled just a bit and your blood goes cold.

It's not like he's yanked you hard enough to hit the ground—but you stumble, just a bit, and now you're closer to him. His initial grip didn't affect you, but the moment he'd tightened his fingers to pull, it hurt.

You hear the sound of someone abruptly standing off of their seat. You know it's Larry, you saw the mood he was in—and you pray something happens before he can make his way over here and beat Travis to a bloody pulp.

All because of you, everyone would be in trouble.

What happens is not what you expect.

Sal reaches forward, wraps his long fingers around Travis's skinny wrist, and hastily rips the other boy's hand off and away from you. Your mind goes blank and the feeling of your raging heartbeat dissipates when he laces his cool fingers through yours and tightens his grip around you.

He flicks his eyes over Travis' paling face, meets his wide eyes, and leads you off.

It doesn't take very long to reach the table. Just before you've parted through another small crowd of teens, Sal lets go of your hand. You have nothing to complain about—you knew it wouldn't last long.

You assume the number of people bustling through the cafeteria would have obstructed your friends' view a bit, so you doubt they saw the handholding. You knew that they'd seen the altercation, though—because you'd heard Larry jump from his chair.

As soon as you've finished easing into your seat, someone's speaking.

"So?" Larry starts, impatiently flexing his fingers atop the table. He looks you straight in the eyes and continues, "What'd Travis say? Why did he grab you? Do I need to-"

"He was just being Travis, Larry,"  Sal cut in, tone short. You witnessed each and every person at the table's eyes widen. Your heart jumps a bit, too—you've never heard him sound like that. "He'll probably try to find me after school later and beat the shit out of me. I'd let him, at this point."

"He's never done that before, though," Ashley points out warily. "This time won't be any different than any other time, right?"

"Not unless something else happened," Todd speaks up about the matter for the first time, swallowing a bite of his sandwich.

"But it was different," Sal breaks in again. "I touched him."

Larry's dark eyebrows jump. "Did you hit him?"

"No." You assert for Sal, nervously glancing his way. "Nothing like that."

Everyone at the table seemed like they wanted more information—shifting in their seats anxiously (save for Todd) and casting inquisitively wary glances toward Sal—but you guessed no one wanted to make Sal any more uncomfortable than he already seemed to be.

Eventually, Larry dissolved the intensity with a joke and eventually a conversation started back up. You put your input in occasionally, wanting to make an effort and be present.

That was a bit hard, though—considering Sal's current timidity. He hadn't spoken for the rest of lunch and barely acknowledged anyone on the way out of the cafeteria.

When your classes had finished for the day, it was time to attend detention.

That was uneventful as well. Sal was placed on the opposite side of the classroom, so even with the teacher who was nodding off and pounding rain concealing any noise you would have produced, you couldn't have genuinely spoken with him.

On the way home from school, the sound of squeaking wet grass and squelching mud beneath your feet grew very unbearable and you quickly broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, Sal, but-"

"You should just stay away from me."

Your heart jumps. It seems to leap from a cliff because it seems to settle in the pit of your stomach. "What?" Your eyes fly towards his prosthetic face, wishing you could search it for anything—but you can't. "Sal, what do you mean?"

"This'll just keep happening. I shouldn't have involved myself with someone like you in the first place."

"Someone like me?" You echo, feeling a bit faint. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Someone who deserves better than the likes of me," he says lowly. "You don't deserve to be grabbed and made fun of just for associating with someone, Y/N. I don't want that for you."

"I don't give a shit, Sal," you bite, tugging at your backpack straps roughly. "I think I can choose who I hang out with."

Sal's quiet after that. It's torture, listening to the breeze rustle the tree leaves and whistle past your ears for 5 whole minutes. Something that calmed you so greatly now made you feel like punching something. You just wish he'd speak.

He does after that thought. "I just want something good for you. I don't want someone else to be dragged into the mess that's my life. Within a few days, Larry's already gotten you fucking high as a kite, you've had to deal with Travis more than once.."

You wrinkle your nose. "I'm not an angel, Sal. I hadn't gotten high before I met you because I didn't have friends—I wasn't tainted because of you or Larry. And as for Travis, he's just a dick. We've all had to deal with someone like that in our lives."

You're both now stood on the pale concrete of the sidewalk. You watch Sal's blue hair blow a bit, the sky blue shade of the strands blending prettily against the multicolored sunset behind him.

"You don't know me," he tries.

"You don't know me," you reply.

The mask shifts and he looks down at his shoes. You follow his gaze, tracing the color of his cornflower blue sneakers.

"I think we shouldn't do this anymore," Sal mumbles quickly, and you wouldn't have picked it up if you hadn't been straining to hear him so much.

You swallow thickly. "Do what?"

He does the same, Adam's apple moving against his throat. "Whatever.. this is."

Your eyebrows pull down. "For 'my sake' or because you don't want to bother with me anymore?"

Sal doesn't reply, flexing his fingers and standing there helplessly. He avoids your eyes and chooses not to reply.

"You're not supposed to choose what's right for me," you chide. "You can't-"

His head jerks up, and he seems to snap. "I don't want this anymore. There, is that good enough?"

Your heartbeat stutters, and you feel the blood draining from your face. Initial confusion and shock are quickly replaced by vexation and frustration. You turn around and hastily walk away, away from Sal and leaving him behind you.

You walk, and walk, and walk. You continue even when the sun disappears behind the line of Nockfell's horizon and when the stars show themselves in the sky. The night is even colder than the day and continues to grow even more frigid as your legs carry you away.

Eventually, your feet are too numb to continue, and you settle on the sidewalk. You shiver, the night's breeze gusting into your face. You pull the denim jacket you wore closer to your chest.

You try not to think about it too hard, but the thoughts are intrusive. You've never felt stupider than you did at this moment.

He didn't want to deal with you anymore. You should have never involved yourself in Travis and Sal's business. You'd just made it all worse for him. He didn't want to have to protect you—who would?

It was over. Whatever it was—it was gone.

Eventually, you find yourself laying on your side. The concrete is cool against your cheek, and the wind is even cooler.

The cars stop coming. You don't know what time it is, and you don't want to check.

You stare out at the sideways road for a while, and eventually the numbing cold lulls you into a dreamless sleep.

You're not even fully awake when a blinding light is shining into your closed eyelids. You groan, pressing the palm heels of your hands into your eyes before blinking them open. In front of you, a vehicle has pulled to the side of the road, just up against the curb. The headlights are way too bright to tell the make or model, or even the color.

"Holy shit, that's Y/N!"

You pull your body into an upright position, wincing as your stiff joints protest your movements. You're barely on your feet before someone's firm hands are on your shoulders. You blink, your eyes trailing from a male's chest to his face.

It's Larry. And stood not far behind him are both Todd and Ashley.

Well, that's certainly a sight to see. Despite your disorientation and overall confusion, you still find it within yourself to feel embarrassed.

"Are you alright?" Todd asks, adjusting his glasses and stepping to Larry's right. "We were driving by and saw someone sleeping on the sidewalk, and turns out it was you."

Suddenly. Ashley is on Larry's left, her pretty features twisted into an expression of terror. "What are you doing out here? It's one in the morning."

You blink fast, absentmindedly raising your hands and placing them atop Larry's which are on your shoulders. He was the only thing steadying you right now. Your body felt weak and sore and your feet were stinging.

"I'm- I'm fine," you breathe. "I sat down and I fell asleep."

Everyone in front of you exchanges concerned glances before returning their attention to you.

"Y/N," Larry speaks first. "I'm sorry for letting you smoke so much. Maybe you're still high-"

"I'm not high," you scratch the back of your head. "That wore off a while ago. I just.. was walking.. for a while."

That was when you finally realized the proximity Larry's hands were to the bruises on your neck. Nonchalantly you slid his fingers off of your shoulders and pushed your hair to shadow the bruised flesh.

It was too dark to see much out here. You doubted they saw anything.

After answering the same question a few more times over ("You're sure you're okay?") you all climbed back into Ashley's vehicle, Todd in shotgun and Larry in the seat beside you, and began the drive to Addison Apartments.

Soon after the vehicle began to move the volume of the radio had been turned higher. The tranquil sound of an acoustic guitar soothed your aching skull as you watched the streetlights pass by. You leaned your head against the window, the cold glass pressing against your forehead spreading a chill down your face.

You breathed slowly. Every puff of hot air that escaped your lips blurs the glass before the frigidity of the window itself evaporated the fog. This sequence continues until you've arrived at Addison Apartments.

You hadn't even realized Todd had been dropped off already until you looked at him to say goodbye and he wasn't there.

Ashley bid both you and Larry goodbye and drove away. Silence hung between the both of you until you entered the bittersweet interior of Addison Apartments. But, for once—the atmosphere of the ground floor calmed you. The lights were dimmed, and a shaded lamp was the main light source of the lobby. The walls were cast over with a calming golden hue.

It reminded you of home—a home you'd never known.

"Weren't you with Sal?" That's the first thing Larry says to break the newfound silence. "You had detention together."

You hesitate. "Yeah. We went to detention—didn't see him afterward."

Larry searches your face with deep, cryptic eyes. "I'm seriously sorry about the weed," he states, the tone on his tongue sincere. "That was my bad—and I see that now. Sal told me how high you got, dude."

Your heart tumbles in fear. "What else did he say?"

"Nothing—just how you'd ran into each other and you were high."

"Was that the reason things were so tense between you before lunch?" This genuinely made you curious.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I think that's why he was kinda snappy. He's never really like that when it comes to Travis. Sal's a patient guy—he usually just avoids talking about anything at all after a confrontation with Travis."

You didn't want to talk about him or any of it anymore. You wanted to climb in bed and stare up at your ceiling and listen to the dead air and the static in your ears. "I just-" you swallow. "I... never mind. I'm gonna head up and get to bed."

Larry blinks down at you, his inquisitive eyes searching for something. "Alright. Get some shuteye, dude. Okay?"

"Okay," you murmur, nodding tiredly and retreating toward the elevator. Larry walks back outside—you assume to light a cigarette—and you step into the elevator. As soon as those doors close, the light inside shuts off.

You're too tired to jump in surprise or feel fear. Instead, you wait it out and walk to your apartment once you're free.

Once you've unlocked the door and stepped lightly to your room, you fish your flip phone from the depths of the pocket in your denim jacket and open it up.

Sal :) Missed Call (3)

Sal :) just let me know you got home safe

Sal :) i'm on the roof if something's wrong

That message was sent 11 minutes ago.

Maybe he'd still be there.

But why would you want to go after what he'd said to you? Why would you want to see him so soon?

How would he have even got to the roof, anyway?

Despite yourself, and all of your better judgment, you go towards your window and slide it open from the bottom. Sure enough, the stairs of the fire escape sit just below the sill. You swing a leg over it, then the other, and pull yourself onto the metal steps. They rattle a bit, but they're steady.

You pull the majority window closed (leaving just a bit of space so you can get it back open) and head up the steps of the fire escape.

It doesn't take long to reach the top. Whenever you step on the roof, despite the fact your feet are planted on something firm, you sway dizzily.

Maybe you had a fear of heights.

There he is. He's sat on the edge, legs hanging over. His back is to you, but you can make out the fact that he's holding a cigarette by the way smoke trails from in front of him into the sky.

You walk forward, making slow movements. You then step beside him and lower yourself to where you're sitting on the edge with him.

And as you stared out into the night, felt the breeze grow warm, almost like it had done so for you—all that you felt was inner peace. Your feet swung back and forth, nothing below to catch them but a free fall and the concrete.

You looked out at the sleeping town and the golden streetlights that lit it.

"Do you ever think about it?" Sal murmurs, his voice is a bit clearer than it was normally because of the way his prosthetic was halfway unbuckled. You heard the crackle of a cigarette and then smelt smoke.

"Think about what?"

"Jumping," he replies. "What if we jumped together?"

Your chest tightens painfully. "Sal-"

"Think about it," he says. "No one would know what went through our minds when we jumped—they'd never stop talking about it. Nothing ever happens here. Something like that.. you'd feel important."

"You wouldn't feel anything," your voice shook despite your best efforts. "You'd be gone for everyone. All of the people who love you now would only lose you."

Sal stays silent, taking a drag from the cigarette and inhaling.

"I know how it feels to want to be missed. To want to feel appreciated." Your hand grows closer to his. "I know that's how you feel. The difference between us, though—you're loved, you're probably even missed when you skip a day of school," you smiled softly. "I'm not. I know what being unloved looks like, Sal. You're not that."

You turn your head to meet his gaze. Moonlight shines against the white of his prosthetic face. He blinks those blue eyes slowly, tiredly. Instead of saying anything, he closes the distance between your hands and locks your smallest finger with his.

"I didn't mean what I said," he whispers, smoke falling out of the mask. "It's sick but I told you that because I care."

Your shallow breaths are barely audible to yourself beneath your racing heart.

"I want to take it at a pace with you, Y/N," he continues. "I don't want to fuck it all up. I wish I could just get up and leave you here so you wouldn't have to deal with me but I can't do it."

You hesitated. "Why not?"

"I don't know."

"I don't want this to be over," you breathe. "I know you don't want me to involve myself with you because you're scared of what will happen. But this involves me, too. This is about both of us. Let me decide for myself."

Maybe he was right. Maybe you shouldn't be doing this—involving yourself with the mess that is Sal Fisher. There's too much you don't know about who he is.

But you wanted to try.

"We can take it slow," you assured. "I understand you're scared but there's nothing to be afraid of."

Your hand inches over his, interlacing your fingers, your palm on the back of his hand. You squeeze them in comfort, not searching for any reciprocation, but it's given anyways.

Nothing is said after that. You sit with him until you're drifting into sleep while sitting upright. You know you can't leave him here—so you wait until he's ready to go home.

You can wait.

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader

[nyxicnymph]

Another Time and Date???

Chasulia Oneshot.

@disfordevineaux

@oqxy

@of-scars-and-roses

@sleepymochasloth

@redcxackles-backup

@catintheback

@justanotherpsych00

All Julia Argent knew about her soulmate was that they appeared to be forgetful, or had no access to pen and paper. Scrawled addresses and dates had appeared on her hand nearly daily from her sixteenth birthday. The handwriting had evolved, but it was still a scrawl across her tiny palms.

So Julia wore gloves.

It wasn't like she was embarrassed by her soulmate, far from it. They'd never tried to communicate, but that didn't bother her. Julia believed one should not force destiny.

When the addresses started matching up with certain historical treasures and museums, Julia had a bit of a panic. The same targets that Carmen Sandiego were hitting were only showing up on her hand only hours before the raids.

Sure, Carmen Sandiego was hot, but... she was an international superthief, for God's sake. And Julia just wasn't that attracted to her, no matter what outsiders may think.

But then Carmen started leaving her handwritten notes, after they'd partnered up a few times, to Chief's bemusement. And Julia sighed in relief. Carmen wrote in elegant cursive, not an untidy scrawl.

That didn't solve the mystery, but it knocked one suspect off the list.

"Eh, Miss Argent, you appear to be lost in your thoughts?" Devineaux asked her as he tapped her shoulder.

Julia flinched in surprise. "Oh, just a personal mystery. It has nothing to do with our work."

Devineaux frowned. "But if it is occupying your thoughts, you will not be in the right mindset to work, no?" He grabbed a chair from nowhere and sat in it, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped under his chin. "Is it a mystery you are willing to share?"

Julia smiled slightly at the sight before her. Devineaux had grown from an arrogant, dismissive coworker to a steady and reliable friend for her. She sat down as well and took a deep breath.

As close as Devineaux was to her, you don't just talk about soulmates with anyone. Soulmates were a sensitive topic.

"It is my soulmate. Specifically the way our mark works. My soulmate mark is the ink mark, and my soulmate, they must be forgetful or in a habit of writing on themselves. As of the last several months, or year, several of the addresses..." Julia sighed, and removed her glasses to wipe them off in a nervous tic. As she replaces her glasses, she continues, "Several of the addresses lined up with places we have gone in our attempts to capture or work with Carmen Sandiego. At first I thought maybe my soulmate was her, but her handwriting is completely different. Yet the addresses continue to show up."

Devineaux's eyes had steadily grown wider and wider during Julia's small monologue. He cleared his throat. "So, is it maybe one of her comrades? Or someone here at ACME?"

Julia shook her head. "I don't know. But I have a plan. I've never communicated with them, through the connection, but with all these coincidences, I'm about to. I have to. I have to know who they are, Devineaux."

Devineaux nodded and stood. "I hope you find them, Miss Argent." He exited her work area, and made his way outside.

Having exited the building, he leaned against the wall, shaking slightly. He raised his left hand to eye level, and slowly, finger by finger, removed the glove that had been covering it.

He had just written down the address this morning, due to a tip from some of Carmen's contacts.

Devineaux never thought about soulmates, since he didn't have a visible soulmark. But suddenly, after Julia's words, Devineaux was anxious.

What if he had offended, oppressed, and hurt his soulmate?

But you've also learned from your mistakes, apologized, and stepped away from those hurtful behaviors, another part of his mind whispered.

Devineaux clutched his head in confusion and anxiety. He allowed himself two minutes of agonizing, then he stood up tall, replaced his glove, smoothed his hair, straightened his jacket, and returned to his work.

<Timeskip: Next Day>

Julia lowered the pen, only to pull it back. She had been so determined to do this, so ready to finally meet this person, only for her nerve to fail her now? She shook her head and pressed her lips together in determination. She raised the pen again, and placed it firmly on the back of her hand.

I believe it is time for us to meet.

She then gave the address of the café where Chief liked to go in the mornings, and set a time for their meeting, and set the pen down. She stared at her hand for a few minutes, breathless. Finally, the scrawl appears.

I will be there.

Julia released the breath she'd been holding. They were coming. She'd finally meet her soulmate and find out about the addresses and mysteries.

She might even feel less stressed.

She pulled her glove back on and pulled out her laptop, satisfied. They'd meet around noon, if all went well.

Devineaux looked at the back of his hand, shocked, and scared. He didn't have any proof, but if this was just a coincidence, it was an uncanny one.

He pulled the glove back on and resumed his work, though his eyebrows were closer knit than usual. He looked up at a gentle knock, however, less then two minutes later. Julia was standing there nervously.

"Ah, Miss Argent, come in!" He said, putting on his regular Chase facade.

"Devineaux," she began, "I did it! I'm meeting my soulmate for lunch today!"

Devineaux's head swirled, and a lump grew in his throat. He should tell her, but he couldn't get the words out. All he could manage was a weak, "That sounds lovely."

Julia was normally an observant woman, but she was in a daze, and couldn't quite see the tempest in Devineaux. She couldn't see his internal conflict with himself, a conflict that was growing stronger by the second. She just couldn't.

Julia walked around Devineaux's desk, and gave him a hug. "Thank you for being so supportive of me. Not just with this, but with everything. Ever since Egypt, you've become one of my best friends. No, you are my best friend now. And I couldn't be more grateful."

Devineaux returned her hug, his knowledge pressing on his tear ducts, but he swore not to cry. Not then.

"You showed me my errors, Miss Argent. You, and your perspective, changed me for the better." Oh, how he wanted to call her Julia, then. But he couldn't. That wasn't his place. Not yet.

Julia stepped away. "Now, I must go. I have some things to finish up before I leave. Thank you, Devineaux."

He nodded as she turned and left, a slight spring in her step. Devineaux looked down at his desk, noting a drop. The tears weren't tears of sadness, nor joy. They were tears of conflict, and tears of shame that he had been unable to tell her then and there.

He wiped the teardrop of the desk, and returned to his papers. Like Julia, he had several things to accomplish before their lunch. He would not be working through his lunch break today.

Julia tapped the last of her papers together, and looked at the clock. She swept the papers into her desk, and stood up. She was about to leave her area when she looked at a vase on her desk. There was a small flower on the edge of the arrangement she had placed in it, and she pulled it out. Her hair had grown out a bit, but she thought the primrose might still be a nice touch. She placed it gently behind her hair, and smiled, pleased by the effect.

Devineaux waited for Julia to exit the building before hurriedly shoving all his stuff in a briefcase and shoving it into the desk. He stopped by a mirror in the hall and tried to fix his hair, but stopped. It wouldn't change how Julia viewed him. She already knew almost everything about him, or at least his personality.

And his messy grooming habits.

Devineaux internally flinched. If today went well, if she accepted him, he resolved to improve his hygiene and grooming. And double check the toothpaste tubes.

He still hated VILE for that one.

He made his way to the cafe, and stopped just outside. His breath caught in his throat.

She was there. A primrose in her hair, and a radiance around her that just made her shine. He backed away for a moment.

He just realized that he was in love with Julia Argent.

He straightened his coat, hoping she wouldn't be disappointed in him. He walked in with a group of other people. Even from a distance, he could tell that, despite her glow, Julia was anxious. After a glance at his watch, Chase knew why.

He was seven minutes late.

Chase felt his heartrate go up drastically, and he wasn't sure if he'd make it to Julia. He pulled a pen out of his pocket, and placed it on his hand.

Try not to be disappointed.

Julia raised an eyebrow at the message, but also understood. She gasped in surprise when a hand was gently placed on the table in front of her. She looked down at the messages, which mirrored hers exactly, then followed the limb up, past a familiar jacket, to a very familiar face.

Chase Devineaux smiled weakly. "Surprise?"

He sat down heavily and placed his forehead on the table, the anxiety from earlier leaving him exhausted. Julia stared at him, her brain whirling.

"Wait, you're my soulmate?!" She mumbled, still in shock.

Chase lifted his head up. "I wanted to tell you earlier, when you walked in, but I just could not! I give you my deepest apologies, Miss Argent."

Julia looked at him, still processing, but the pieces are starting to click. "No, no, I don't think you should apologize. Something about fate. It's strange like this." She looked at her delicate hand, then placed it on Devineaux's rougher and larger one. "And fate didn't want me to know then, I'm sure."

Devineaux looked away. "But, Miss Argent, how can you trust me now?"

Julia looked at him quizzically. "You've saved my life, and grown into someone I can trust with anyone. Devi-" She stopped, swallowed, and continued. "Chase, how could I not trust you?"

Chase looked at her again, wonder on his face. Hardly anyone called him Chase. "I thought you would hate me, or even worse, ignore me."

Julia sighed. "I could never. We're partners, remember?" She held up her hand. "Forever, I suppose."

Chase cracked a grin, and leaned back, running a hand over his face. "It's like a weight has been lifted from my chest, thanks to you, Miss Argent."

"Julia," she corrected, and he nodded.

"Of course. Julia."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Julia's eyes widened and she covered her mouth. Chase glanced over in concern.

"Julia?"

"I friendzoned you!"

Chase just leaned back and laughed.

<End>

#chasulia #chase x julia #chase devineaux #julia argent #carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego 2019 #oneshot #soulmate au

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Conner Kent Week 2021, Day Two: Rarepair

Jason knew jokes about how pale Tim was, about how he was either a vampire or the perfect blue blood, about how he needed to get out and absorb some sun for God’s sake. They were met with glares, scathing retorts, smacks with a bo staff, and on one memorable occasion, a horrified Bruce as Tim barged into the house with visible sunburn all along his arms, shoulder and face. (Bruce hadn’t taken Tim’s accusation of But Jason told me to go get some sun! very well.)

Jason wasn’t joking now. Loosely covered in a hospital gown, Tim’s still body seemed to be more devoid of colour than any of the sheets, machines, and tubes surrounding him and attached to his body, keeping him alive in the most impersonal of ways. 

It was quiet, the sort of quiet that muffled any attempted noise with a soft hush, an invisible reprimand at showing signs of life in a place where there should be none. The beeping of the various machines didn’t register, the hum of the fluorescent lights was ignorable. Even the rhythmic tapping of Jason’s foot on the linoleum, a nervous habit he’d never been able to break, was utterly silent. 

It was quiet. At least until Conner Kent barged into the room, his heavy combat boots thudding on the ground and his breath coming out in pants, the terrified look on his face telling Jason that he thought he hadn’t gotten here fast enough.

“He’s fine,” Jason managed not to cough while speaking, the roughness of his throat a physical ache that was just now flaring up. “Full recovery, they said.”

“Good, good, that’s...” Conner dropped into the remaining hospital chair, right next to Jason. “That’s good.”

Silence blanketed them once again. Jason hadn’t ever been in a regular hospital room. He had supposedly spent a while as a patient in one when he’d risen from the dead and trembled around Gotham like a 21st century zombie, but he couldn’t remember any of it. He didn’t think Tim’s best friend had ever been in one either, given a good majority of Tim’s team was invulnerable or had advanced healing in some way. 

Jason was sure Bruce was itching to take Tim to the cave’s medbay, and honestly, Jason found himself on Bruce’s side in this. As much as he liked to distrust the entire Bat clan, he knew they’d give everything they had to make sure Tim was okay, while the hospital was only giving Tim their best care because of the “Wayne” tacked onto the end of his name. Jason had been about to demand Bruce bring him back to the cave no matter what, but Oracle butted in, telling him that Tim been shot as Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne in broad daylight. Bruce couldn’t take Tim home, not without raising some very complicated questions.

So that led them here. Jason being slammed full-force in the face with how much he’d let himself care about the tiny little toothpick, unable to make himself move for fear that Tim would slip away in the one moment he was gone. (Once he’d come back to life and seen how chummy Dick was with Bruce all of a sudden, he’d always expected Dick to drag him back kicking and screaming. He never thought Tim’s unobtrusive yet steady presence, doing his tech work in exchange for food, would lead to the word brother coming to his lips as easy as a breath.)

Next to him, Conner shuffled, and snapped Jason out of his thoughts. “I thought Nightwing would be here.” A statement, subtly posed as a question.

But, still one Jason had an answer to. “Deep cover. A mission he’d been planning for weeks. He doesn’t know.” And he would probably throw a fit about it too, when he came back. Even Jason had to wince a bit at the horrible sense of déjà vu Dick would end up feeling.

“So they sent you instead,” Conner said, and his tone was simple, but Jason found himself getting heated anyway.

“What, you thought the fill-in for Big Bird would be a little better?”

Jason was just burning for a fight, the helplessness he felt at being able to do nothing but sit in a low-quality plastic chair skating up his body and down his arms, forcing his fingers to curl in a fist. He expected the other boy to rise to the bait, having heard Tim’s complaints on how hot-headed Superboy was. 

But something about their current situation caused Conner to just turn and glare at him flatly instead. “You once put him a hospital bed, too. Don’t act like you care about him now when you would’ve celebrated this a couple years ago.” His tone was dismissive, and that dug under Jason’s skin much more than he expected. 

“Well then, it’s a good thing time travel’s reserved for the speedsters, huh? ‘Cause lucky for you, I’m not the same guy I was a couple years ago,” Jason replied scathingly. The next words were ripped from Jason’s throat, and he could almost see the blood splattered on them. “That’s my brother in the shitty hospital bed right there.”

“Yeah? And how long have you even cared about that ‘brother’ of yours?” There it was. Jason could see red trickling into Conner’s cheeks as he let Jason’s words get to him, and found himself oddly curious about that flush.

Still. Argument to win. “Long enough to know him,” Jason shot back. “Long enough to help piece him together after he almost broke. Where were you during that time? Fucking around with your friends or dead?”

“Trying to hold together the team that Tim helped build,” Conner shifted a bit to face Jason more directly head on. “All you’ve done is tear people apart. News flash: having a sort-of truce with Tim doesn’t automatically mean your family loves you again.”

That one hurt. Years of training to keep his emotions hidden was the only thing that kept him from flinching back visibly, but Jason still felt like he’d been slapped. Because the boy was right; just because Tim liked dropping by one of his safehouses every other week doesn’t mean the rest of the family was anywhere near comfortable with him, not after all the pain he’d caused them. And he couldn’t even fault Conner on it, because it wasn’t like he was wrong and it wasn’t like it wasn’t Jason’s own damn fault.

Still. He couldn’t just let that slide. “At least my family loved me to begin with. What do you have? Megalomaniac scientists who built you from an evil billionaire who thinks of you as an experiment at best and supposedly one of the best men on Earth who still thinks you’re not worth his time.”

Too late, Jason realized his insult came out a little too scathing. Conner’s eyes widened, and Jason saw him blink back pinpricks of tears...fuck. He didn’t know when mutual antagonizing had turned into a caustic competition, but he was pretty sure Tim wouldn’t be very happy with the two of them biting each other’s heads off. And Jason was the one that goaded Conner into this to begin with, to let some of his own helpless anger loose. Conner just wanted to make sure his friend was alright.

So, slightly reluctantly, Jason said, “Sorry. That was a bit too far.”

Conner shot him a grimace. “S’okay. You’re keyed up ‘cause of Tim. I get it. You’re still a jackass, though.” After saying his bit, the other boy turned away, taking up another vigil by Tim’s bedside.

...What the hell. It wasn’t like Jason had lied, anyway. If there was one person that had worse daddy issues than Jason did, it was this poor son of a bitch. Back when he was first catching glimpses of updates on what happened in the larger superhero world while he was letting green overtake his mind, he’d marveled a bit at Superboy, and the way the Justice League seemed to speak about it. How bad do you have to be to be Superman’s own son, (sorta), and still have him hold you at arms length. But after Tim’s stories, and after meeting him now, Jason was pretty sure Superman was in the wrong.

You really couldn’t trust anyone, could you?

“Nah. You’re right,” Jason said. “God knows none of the Bats want anything to do with me, so this stupid sort-of truce with this stupid brother’s all I got.”

Conner glanced over at him, surprised. Jason couldn’t blame him, he was a little taken aback at how easily the confession had spilled out of him too. They both knew how closed off people in their line of work were, but Conner seemed to take Jason’s words as an olive branch.

“You were right too. Found out the fun way that parents aren’t worth shit. So the team’s all I got, and Tim’s a big part of that.”

“The kid fucking hates you,” Jason said, putting some good-natured humor into his words to let Conner know he wasn’t entirely serious. “Loves you to death, but complains about you to me all the time.”

Conner snorted. “Look who’s talking. Every week at Titans Tower, it’s all ‘Jason won’t stop scaring off all my informants’ and ‘Jason spit on my copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.’”

“You can’t blame me for that last one, aight?” 

“No, I agree with you,” Conner said. “That movie was terrible. I don’t know why Tim likes it.”

“Because he’s a goddamn loser,” Jason said. He couldn’t say he was expecting Conner to know who he was, much less from stories Tim had told him. But it felt...good, in a way. Nice to be recognized by his media tastes instead of his bone-chilling reputation. Nice to know that the guy Tim wouldn’t shut up about to him knew who he was.

Silence fell in between them again, but it was comfortable, mutually acknowledged and let rest. Jason didn’t break it when Conner stood up, brushed a kiss to Tim’s hair, and left the hospital much quieter than he came. Jason didn’t break it when he made to leave either, squeezing Tim’s hand and mentally willing him to heal faster. Jason didn’t break it all the way home. 

The next day found Jason in a similar position. The positive side of being a mob boss: he didn’t have much in the way of a day job. He didn’t know why cramming himself into an uncomfortable position to stare, with a tight throat, at a kid in a medically induced coma was what he decided to do with his day.

Maybe because the kid had grown on him, latched onto his heart like a leech and didn’t let go until Jason could ruffle his hair and think of him as a little brother without physically throwing up. 

And maybe because he wanted to see Conner again. He didn’t know why, but their brief talk yesterday had loosened something inside his chest. He was used mulling over his regrets, used to Bruce condemning him and giving up on him as a lost cause, used to Dick trying to brush everything aside and form a bond with him again. He wasn’t used to someone staring his sins in the face, then shrugging and forgiving him. 

Forgiveness was much lighter and much less guilt-ridden than Jason expected, and he wanted more of it. From the way Conner had sunk into the same line of thinking as Jason, he wanted more of it too.

Conner didn’t disappoint him, but Jason wasn’t sure when he’d gotten his hopes up high enough to be disappointed in the first place. Calmer, now that he knew Tim was doing better, Conner leaned against the doorframe of hospital room, staring at their resident comatose with a little frown on his lips.

Jason took the time to study him. A black leather jacket stretched across his shoulders, a little more showy than the practical brown one draped across the back of the chair Jason was sitting on. He supposed it fitted in with Superboy’s theme, because anyone who wore that pinwheel-bright costume with the fucking thigh holster Jason saw pictures of online was more than a little showy. There wasn’t much proof of in his simple t-shirt and jeans, though, and Jason almost would’ve been disappointed if it weren’t for the earring hanging from his left earlobe and the tall black boots with glinting metal lace hooks that stretched up their length. Jason bet he owned the exact pair of fingerless gloves that were wrapped around Conner’s wrists right now.

In all of Tim’s vivid descriptions of the guy, Jason never realized how much he had in common with the guy, at least cosmetically.

“How’s he doing?” Conner asked, and jolted Jason out of his reverie. He didn’t make any indication he caught Jason looking, but Jason eyed him in slight embarrassment just in case.

Realizing that Conner was actually waiting for an answer, Jason cleared his throat and leaned forward a bit from his relaxed sprawl. “They say they’ll bring him out of it tomorrow, then a week here before he can go home. That is, if he doesn’t wake up on his own. The doctors say they’re astounded at how fast he’s recovering.”

Conner snorted, then stepped fully into the room. “Can you build up an immunity to injury? Or, like, have your body develop a mini healing factor or something? Just based on the kind of shit we’ve gone through over the years?”

Jason didn’t miss the way Conner put feather’s touch more emphasis on “we,” or the way his eyes flicked over to Jason. “At this point, I’m sure it’s the only way we’ve stayed alive so long.”

“No you didn’t,” Conner chuckled.

Jason’s head whipped up, staring at the other boy with disbelief threading through his mind. It had taken months for Dick to start making death jokes, and even then, he hesitated a bit, as if making sure Jason was okay with it. But after one meeting, Conner just steamrolled ahead, every bit as confident as he appeared to be. Jason found himself laughing too, with genuine amusement albeit a little punched out.

Crossing the room to seat himself in the remaining plastic chair, Conner sunk down with a sigh. “I just want him to wake up already.”

“Yeah, well. Who doesn’t?” Jason said, feeling unreasonably a little disappointed. Of course Conner wanted to talk about Tim, that was the whole reason he’d come to the hospital in the first place. He’d only known Jason for an hour, and a large part of that was spent trading insults back and forth. Of course he didn’t want to talk about how Jason was doing.

“So,” Conner said, turning away from the hospital bed. “How are you doing?”

Or maybe he did. Jason didn’t know what to call the little bubble of satisfaction that flew up his throat and popped in his mouth. “Not bad. Life as a mob boss is kinda boring, whaddya know. You?”

“Playing den mother for a bunch of hypercompetent yet cluelessly stupid baby superheroes is not how I imagined my life going.”

“Playing den mother?”

Conner wrinkled his nose, in a motion that was in no way cute, honestly kind of gross and flat. Jason found himself staring nonetheless. “Bart used to call me Team Mom back when we founded the team, and it caught on. Now, Cassie leads, but since even she says it, everyone fucking says it. They ask me for granola bars and money to buy movie tickets.”

“And?”

Conner sighed. “I give them granola bars and money to buy movie tickets.”

“There you go,” Jason  said, his voice dripping with smug amusement.

“I swear I’m not usually this lame,” Conner pleaded, and his half-smile was aimed straight towards Jason.

“No, no, I believe you. Tim’s told me stories,” Jason said. “Didn’t you once throw some guy into a police car so hard, the car dented and they had to call in a helicopter so the guy didn’t die on the way to the hospital?”

Conner flushed, and Jason found it just as entrancing as last time. “He tried to touch Cassie,” he explained. “And she can take care of herself more than well, I know. I just got a bit...overprotective.”

Jason just laughed. “Don’t worry. I thought it was badass.”

“Really?” Conner’s lips twisted into a sour smile. “Because the League thought it was proof of my, fuck, what was it? Violent, destructive tendencies mirrored on a smaller scale of the schemes of Lex Luthor. Something along those lines.”

Shaking his head with desideration, Jason scoffed. “Sounds about accurate. Besides, you don’t wanna know what the League thinks of me.”

“What?”

“Aside from, like, Joker and Two-Face and Mad Hatter and shit, Red Hood is one one of Batman’s most powerful and dangerous rogues, and must be stopped at all costs.”

Conner was laughing before Jason even finished talking. “I love that for you,” he said. “You’re just so powerful and dangerous. I’m quaking in my boots.”

Jason shoved him lightly, and felt Conner give way on purpose, ignoring how natural and easy the motion felt. “Whatever you say, Luthor Lite.”

“Well, guess I found my new superhero name,” Conner said, finger held up to his chin in mock-thought as if musing something extremely important.

“It’s perfect,” Jason said. “And here we have Conner Kent, ordinary punk-rock farmer. But he’s hiding a secret! When his ‘violent and destructive tendencies’ come out, he turns into...Luthor Lite!”

The two of them collapsed into muffled laughter, Jason stifling his noise by biting his lip and Conner putting his head in the crook of his arm to hide his red face. Pity, Jason liked that flush.

Straightening up with a sigh, Conner offered Jason a little grin. Crimson was still creeping along his cheekbones and the edge of his jaw, and Jason was suddenly struck by the urge to trace it.

“Kon,” Conner said.

“What?”

“Call me Kon,” Conner said. “Everyone does.”

“Kon, huh? With a K, right?” Jason asked, then nodded thoughtfully when Conner made a noise of affirmation. “Is it Kryptonian or something?”

A rueful expression stole it’s way onto Conner’s face, mischievous lips and daring eyes staring at Jason as if challenging him. “Yeah. Kon-el. Kryptonian for ‘abomination’. It’s what they thought of clones.”

A pause. Then, “Wow.” Jason bust out laughing for the second time. “That’s metal as fuck. Good for you, Kon.”

“Says the guy who took the name of the person who killed him, then twisted it into something so horrifying that now, no one else associates it with anything other than you.”

“Is that judgement I hear?”

“Respect,” Kon said, and his smile was oddly shy, the first time he’d shown that emotion since he’d met Jason. Jason liked the way it looked on him; it suited him oddly well.

They were quiet for a minute, grinning at each other like buffoons, but Jason couldn’t find the heart to stop. Eventually, Kon stood up and rolled out his shoulders to stretch. “I gotta get going. I’m meeting Bart and Cassie, updating them about Tim.”

“They’re waking Tim up in the afternoon,” Jason said. “Bruce is gonna be here, plus Steph. So I’d stay clear.”

“Gotcha, thanks. I’ll come in the morning.”

A proposition, if Jason ever saw one, and there was no way he could have refused. “I’ll be here,” he said, and kept his eyes on Kon until he rounded a corner, away from sight.

Kon was already there when Jason came to visit Tim the next day, and he gave him a friendly, if a tad flirtatious, smile. Jason responded, accidentally putting too much emotion into the greeting than he would have liked, but it made Kon brighten, so Jason didn’t feel too bad. 

Dropping heavily into what had become “his” chair, Jason shrugged off his jacket. He gave himself a mental high-five when he noticed Kon staring at his shoulders, but made no motion to address it.

“If all goes to plan, he’ll be the same annoying little prep boy that’s always annoying the hell out of me by tonight,” Jason said.

“He’ll be fine,” Kon said, and his voice was quiet, but there was an undercurrent of confidence curling around his words. He sounded like he had utter faith in Tim. Jason wished some of that would bleed over.

“He’s a tough little shit,” Jason said, then repeated Kon’s words. “He’ll be fine.”

“How ‘bout you?”

“Hm?” Jason raised an inquiring brow. “Oh, I’m all good It’s not me that’s hurt.”

“Jason,” Kon snorted. “If I have learned anything over the past two days, it is the fact that you are most definitely not ‘all good.’”

“Yeah well,” Jason said. “You’re one to talk.”

Kon made a noncommittal noise, and shrugged as if to say what can you do? “We’ve all got issues. But I get the feeling that you’re not as closed off and angry as you let people believe. Or maybe you are, but you don’t want to.”

Jason bit back the first response that came into his mind, telling Kon that no, he was closed off and angry, just not with him. But that wasn’t the truth, and he definitely didn’t have the courage to say it out loud. So instead, he said, “Maybe. Not gonna lie, from the way Tim and everyone talks about you, I was expecting more...”

“Cocky little frat boy?” Kon asked, smirking.

“More or less.”

Kon sighed, then looked down to where his hands were fiddling with each other. “Superman doesn’t act like a cocky little frat boy. Neither does Lex Luthor.”

“You’re not either of them,” Jason said, realization pouring into his mind like spilled oil. “You’re not either of them, but no one else seems to get that, so you make it as obvious as possible.”

“A couple people got that eventually,” Conner said, looking up at Tim with a soft smile. “Not many, though. And none as quickly as you.”

Kon leaned back, level with Jason now, turned to face him, something on his face that Jason couldn’t read. The chairs seemed much closer than Jason could remember, but he wasn’t very much banking on his memory right now. 

“Yeah, well,” Jason said, feeling a little lame. “What can I say. Misery likes company, and companies read each other through water.”

“Never heard that one before.”

“I came up with it,” Jason said. 

“I like it,” Kon smiled, then leaned forward with an ease Jason had been determined to build up first.

A little peeved at Kon beating him to it, Jason closed the distance first, the kiss probably a little too rough. But given the way they’d met, Jason felt like the bite he gave Kon was justified, even if the other boy was invulnerable.

Jason had made plenty of bad decisions in his life, and he knew exactly what they felt like. This wasn’t one of them. There was no chance that the way Kon’s hands coming up to cup Jason’s face, dragging his nail down Jason’s jaw, was anything other than good. No chance the way Kon’s soft hair suddenly threaded through his fingers was anything other than soft, no chance the soft noise Kon made in the back of his throat was anything other than delightful.

Yeah, Jason knew bad decisions. And despite the avalanche of bad decisions that seemed to make up every inch of Jason, from his scarred hands to his chipped nails, despite the pile-up of thoughtless ideas that led to this boy being made, despite how intimately familiar Jason was with regrets, he was certain Conner Kent wasn’t one of them.

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

this was almost 4k what the fuck

also. please imagine tim waking up to see his best friend and older brother aggressively making out in the plastic hospital chairs next to him. 

anway, suddenly i have a new ship.

imma post this on ao3 later, it got a bit long

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump

#scribbles from the swamp #kon-el week #conner kent week #kon el week #superboy week #kon-el #conner kent #superboy #jason todd #red hood #jaykon #dc #kon-el fic #conner kent fic #superboy fic #kon-el headcanon #conner kent headcanon #superboy headcanon #jason todd fic #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #red hood fic #jaykon headcanon #jaykon fic #dc headcanon #dc fic

[mermaidssonshipss]

the quiet one

anotha request! hehe this one was cute and i got excited when i read it, so thank you to whoever requested it! sorry it took so long to write it, but ... writers block is a bitch! and work is also a bitch!

warnings: none! bunch of cuteness. some cursing i think.

pairings: jj maybank x reader

word count: 3.2k

For the past three years, every Saturday morning at 8am, JJ Maybank could be found on your property, mowing the lawn to perfection. When he’d turned 18 a year ago and got a real job, he’d quit mowing lawns on Figure 8, but your parents had grown to love him, so they told him if he took every Saturday off to mow their lawn in the morning, they’d pay him what he would earn an entire day at work. What they didn’t know though, was that JJ didn’t plan on leaving them anyway, they were the one family he was happy to continue working for, even if it meant he would have to wake up at 5am to get it done before his actual job. 

At around 8:15am, once JJ had gotten everything out and set up and was beginning to work, you would make your way onto the porch, a glass of iced coffee in one hand for you, and an ice cold water bottle in the other for him. You’d offered time and time again to make him an iced coffee, but he’d always declined, saying he felt bad having you make him a drink while he was being paid to fix your lawn. That had never stopped your mom from making him breakfast though, and while he could say no to you, he couldn’t say no to the woman who was paying him. 

When he had first started, none of you had any idea what his home-life was like. Your dad had found out first, about a year into him mowing your law, when JJ pulled up one Saturday with a black eye, his chest and abdomen also covered in matching blue and black spots. When you saw him struggling to mow the lawn, clear he was in pain, you ran to your dad and told him, who was quick to go outside and question JJ. At first, JJ tried to play it off, saying he got into a fight with Rafe Cameron the night before, but as your dad had been at the Cameron’s house the night before and had seen Rafe, he knew it was a lie. Eventually, JJ gave in and told your dad everything.

After your dad had shared the information with your mom, she had begun to dote over the boy every Saturday, hence why she had been cooking him breakfast now for the last two years. She would also send him home with food for lunch and dinner for the next two days, and you’d caught your mom sending Luke glares when she ran into him at the market on The Cut you went to often: they had the best peaches on the island.

Though you’d known him for 3 years and shared friendly banter in the mornings when you gave him his water, you tended to shy away from having any actual conversation with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him or enjoy his presence, you’d just always been considered the quiet one, and you kept to yourself. You had friends, sure, but none of them truly knew who you were, nor did they ever really care enough to try and find out.

JJ had turned 19 a couple of months ago, and your mom had baked him a cake, your dad giving him an envelope with enough money in it to cover his rent for the next two months. He’d moved out of his dads home and was living in a small apartment on the cut by himself, though you’d heard him complain to your dad that it felt like the pogues never left him alone. You knew he didn’t mean it, as it was clear how much he loved his friends, but the thought of a distressed JJ trying to kick his friends out had made you giggle.

***

“Dude... you’re whipped,” Pope gave JJ a hard pat on the back, shaking his head at the blonde boy in front of him. JJ glared, snatching the wrapped up box from Pope’s hand.

“Shut up, Pope, I’m not whipped.”

“You’re whipped,” John B piped in, and JJ lifted his middle finger up at him, “We’ve had to listen to you sigh over this girl the last 3 years, and you’ve barely even talked to her.”

“We’ve talked!”

“Yeah, when she’s offering to make you an iced coffee and you say no. Which, you’re fucking stupid for by the way. Iced coffee is the shit.”

“I try to talk to her dude. But I just get.. nervous?” He questioned, not sure if that was the correct wording. Girls didn’t make JJ Maybank nervous, but for some reason, you did. “She’s just always so into her books and I don’t wanna disturb her. She’s also the prettiest girl on this island... she isn’t gonna give me the time of day.” JJ huffed, collapsing down onto the couch next to John B, the brunette shaking his head at him. 

“Her parents love you, clearly, so that already gives you an advantage. Also, she comes and sits out on the porch every Saturday. And she’s been doing it for 3 years. She’s clearly doing it for a reason,” Pope piped in, swiping a coke out of JJ’s fridge.

“You like her. She clearly goes out of her way to see you so if she doesn’t already like you, she’s close. Just... I don’t know. Be JJ and get her to like you,” John B was useless, JJ had decided, shaking his head as he pushed himself back to his feet and snatched his car keys from the kitchen table.

“Clean up your shit!” JJ called over his shoulder as he took off out the front door, making his way to his car to head to your house.

***

The sun outside fought its way through your thin curtains, the light assaulting your closed eyelids, causing them to flutter open as you turned your face away from the window. You blew out a breath of air before reaching onto your nightstand and snatching your phone. Your notifications were full of texts and social media posts, everyone wishing you a happy birthday, and you smiled for a moment before tossing the phone into your sheets and pulling yourself out of bed.

By the time you had finished showering and thrown on a pair of simple frayed jean short shorts and a green cropped tube top, it was already 8:10am. You huffed, deciding to skip doing your makeup as you tossed your wet hair into a messy bun, your feet moving quickly down the stairs. 

As you entered the kitchen, you could hear the lawn mower going off in the backyard, and your eyes wandered to the glass doors that would soon lead you out to JJ. You could see him through the glass, his shirt already off as he pushed the large piece of metal across the grass, sweat forming on his tan skin. 

“Quit staring, you’re drooling.” your dads voice snapped you out of your trance, your cheeks turning scarlet as you threw a glare at him.

“I wasn’t staring.” you mumbled, moving around the kitchen as you began to make your iced coffee. 

“You totally were,” he laughed, and he went to pat you on the head but you dodged him, throwing a spoon at him as a warning. You’d gotten the bun to look perfect, and you’d be damned if he fucked it up. He raised his hands in surrender before bending down and grabbing the thrown spoon, tossing it into the sink, “Happy birthday, kiddo.” 

“Thanks dad,” you smiled, pressing a couple buttons on the Keurig so it would start making your coffee.

“Any plans for today? Besides staring at JJ for the next two hours?”

“I WASN’T STARING!” your voice raised right as JJ shut the lawn mower off, carrying outside through the window that was cracked open. JJ looked towards the glass doors leading into the kitchen, his eyes straining to see inside. He could see your dad bent over laughing, but you had moved so you were hidden behind the fridge. He shrugged, turning the lawn mower back on and getting back to work.

“I will kill you.” you glared, shooing him out of the kitchen as he shot you a wink before disappearing into his home office.

When you were done getting your coffee ready, you grabbed a water bottle and your book that was resting on the island, heading outside to the back porch. Immediately, JJ turned the lawn mower off once more, sending you a bright smile as he made his way over to you to grab the waiting bottle.

“Good morning, y/n,” he said as his fingers wrapped around the cold plastic, grazing your own softly.

“Good morning, JJ.” you replied, sending him a shy smile. That was usually the end of your morning conversation as you would generally move to the swing on the porch to read, but today, JJ kept going.

“It’s your birthday.” he stated, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“It is.” you had placed your coffee down on the outside table now, watching him curiously. He hesitated for a moment before moving around you and heading to the porch swing you usually sat on, and you watched as he pulled up the pillow and grabbed onto a pink box that had been hidden.You gave him a shy smile as he handed it to you, the apples of his cheeks tinting an intense shade of red.

“It’s stupid so don’t expect anything wonderful but... yeah.” He mumbled out quickly, his hand gripping onto the back of his neck as he looked down at his feet.

“You didn’t have to get me anything at all, JJ.” You took the box from his hands, your own cheeks matching his. You looked up at him, questioning if you could open it, to which he nodded.

As you pulled the wrapping paper off, it revealed a golden toned leather journal with your name engraved in the middle, the quote “I hope she’ll be a fool- that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.” underneath it in a beautiful script.

“JJ...” you gasped, your eyes lighting up as you looked at the timid boy in front of you, ”How’d you know that’s my favorite quote?” your eyebrow raised in question as your fingertips delicately traced over the engraving.

“Senior year of high school, your school came to my high school on the cut and my English teacher made everyone go around and say their favorite book and quote. You were the only one who actually had an answer. Then a year or so ago you left a book out lying on the porch swing and when I passed it, I saw that same quote highlighted.” He shrugged as he spoke, brushing off the words, but your heart had been racing the entire time as you fought back a wide smile.

“This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me, and I mean that. Thank you, JJ.” You placed the journal down on the table that was next to you on the porch and lifted yourself up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around JJ’s bare shoulders in a hug. He hesitated for a moment, not expecting the physical contact, but he quickly wrapped his own arms around your small waist, breathing in the scent of your orange blossom shampoo.

***

JJ had been at your house everyday for the past two weeks. Your dads car had broken down, and apparently JJ was the only one who could fix it. Your dad was willing to pay very generously for his time, so the shop JJ worked at allowed him to come to your house to take care of it. While your dad was away at work, you’d been given the assignment of hanging out with JJ to “keep an eye on him,” though you knew your dad was just doing it so the two of you would spend more time together. And you did. He’d finally begun accepting your iced coffee offers in the morning, and the two of you would mess around in your kitchen each day cooking lunch, seeing what exactly you could make with all the ingredients in the house. While you’d always found JJ attractive, your feelings for him were definitely blossoming into much more. You’d catch yourself staring off at his lips as he spoke, wondering what the red tinted skin would feel like against yours. 

JJ had already had feelings for you before the past two weeks came around, but now that the two of you were actually getting to know each other, he came to the realization that while relationships scared him and he’d always shied away from them, he wanted one with you. If he wanted to analyze his feelings even more, he’d hesitate of course, but he was willing to admit that he was falling for you: he had, actually, when Pope grilled him the night before about the amount of time you two were spending together, and how bright the smile on JJ’s face had been lately. 

Currently, JJ was leaning over the hood of your dads car, his jeans covered in oil, and your eyes were transfixed on his bare back, following a few sweat droplets as they trailed down the tan skin. You were sat atop one of the building counters in your garage, your bottom lip caught between your teeth absentmindedly. When JJ turned around abruptly, you snapped your eyes up, sitting up straighter as your cheeks turned red when you noticed the smirk on his face, your fingers gripping onto the edge of the wooden counter in embarrassment. Your eyes were wide, an innocent expression playing on your features, and JJ had to stop himself from laughing. 

“It’s not very nice to stare, pretty girl.” He remarked, the nickname he’d recently begun using towards you causing your stomach to stir.

“I wasn’t!” You defended, your eyes squinting into a glare, but as JJ’s chuckle rang through the garage, a smile broke out on your face.

“To be fair,” he spoke, wiping his hands on a towel before discarding it onto the floor as he approached you, “I stare at you quite often. Have for the past 3 years.”

As he spoke, your gaze had shamelessly moved down his torso, but once the words he had said actually registered, your eyes quickly moved back up to his shining blue orbs as they watched you closely. 

“Really?” your voice came out as a whisper, disbelief riddled in your tone. JJ had always been someone you saw as unattainable: he’d made his dislike for kooks very clear, and he was also notorious on the island for not being into commitment. 

“Does that really come as a surprise?” he’d lowered his voice as he was now stood right in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs gently, and you were finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the heat from his skin on yours.

“I... well... yeah...” you stuttered out, not really sure what to say or how to explain it.

“While your mom and dad are wonderful people, they aren’t the reason I’ve been mowing your lawn for the past 3 years.” At this point, he’d pushed your thighs apart so he could stand in-between them, his body almost pressed against yours now.

“What’s the reason?” the words were rushed and sounded breathless as his thumbs were now rubbing into the skin of your thighs in slow circles, and you’d missed how his head was dipping down so his face was level with yours.

“You.”

His lips were on yours seconds later, gliding against yours slowly as the cinnamon scented lipgloss you were wearing invaded his tastebuds. His nose bumped with yours softly as you titled your head, your hand coming up to rest on his cheek softly as his arms now wound around your waist, pulling you into his warm body as you leaned into his touch. He had your bottom lip captured between his now, his teeth softly nipping at the skin as he pulled on it lightly before pulling away, and you let out a quiet whine at the absence of his lips on yours, pulling him back down and connecting your lips once again. 

This kiss was less timid than the first had been, your teeth clanking together gently as you both pushed to deepen it. His hand was now gripping onto the back of your neck, his fingertips pressing into the delicate skin as your hands rested on his bare chest, finally exploring the skin you’d been dreaming about. 

A cough caused the two of you to pull apart, you jumping down from the counter and JJ moving back over to the car, both of your faces reddening as you saw your dad standing there, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Finally. That took longer than I expected.” he began to speak, the smirk turning into a smile, “JJ, join us for dinner tonight?”

“I... uh... sure..?” JJ’s voice was laced with confusion, his heart racing in his chest as he’d expected your dad to scream at him, but his reaction had been the exact opposite.

Your dad simply nodded his head before clapping his hands together, sending the two of you a thumbs up as he left the garage, leaving the both of you standing there in silence until you heard the front door close.

“Did he...” you began, your eyes still trained on where your dad had been standing.

“I think he.. planned on this happening...” JJ finished for you, gazes finally connecting. He had a smile on his face, but you were still confused, and your face was still hot as you thought about the fact that your dad had literally just caught you making out with JJ when you’d been denying you felt anything for him for the past 3 years. 

“Hmph.” You hummed after a moment, but a small smile was playing on your now swollen lips. JJ walked back over to you, grabbing your hands in his and lacing your fingers together as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I know I’m not known for relationships and shit,” he started, squeezing your hands as you looked up at him, hope filling your eyes, “But I think it’s just because by the time I was old enough to really want one, you’d come into my life, and I couldn’t get you off my mind. No one was you. No one made me feel the way you did, and half the time we only said a few words to each other and the rest of our time together was me staring at you while you read, and I still felt like a fucking 10 year old with his first crush. I want to do this, but I want to do this with you, and only you. And I’d also like to say that Pope helped me rehearse this, because I’m shit with feelings and probably would’ve ended up calling you dude at some point and ruining everything.” You laughed loudly as he finished and he sent you a shy smile, causing you to shake your head in disbelief before moving onto your tiptoes and pressing a gentle kiss against his rough lips, pulling away before he could deepen it.

“I’d like to do this with you, too.... dude.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks imagine

[wienerbarnes]

The Electrifying Mind Reader (2/2)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,556

Warnings: not really any major ones tbh

A/N: yay hope yall enjoy! 

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“No, no, no, this is all wrong.”

Bucky closes the blinds that the young nurse opened for you and rips the socks from Sam’s hands. He approaches where you lay in the hospital bed, unconscious to give your body and heart a break while your system is flooded with IV fluids.

“You don’t know how to put her socks on right; she - she doesn’t like ‘em too tight on her feet. You put ‘em on and you gotta tug on the toes a bit so they fit looser, yeah?” Bucky instructs, not really caring if Sam is paying attention to this lesson of putting socks on your feet.

It’s been six days. Six days since your heart stopped. Six days since Bucky’s CPR probably saved your life, holding you over just until they reached the tower and were able to get you into the MedBay. Six days since they stabilized you and induced you into a coma in fear that your heart would stop again, and also to give you a break from the pain.

It’s also been six days since Bucky’s had a proper shower, too, which Sam is getting really tired of.

It took him three days to even change out of his uniform from the mission; he didn’t want to leave your side.

“Bucky -”

“And as for the blinds, she always likes the room dim. The rest of her may be bright, but she doesn’t like all the lights on and the windows open.” He explains, still holding your feet in his hands, not taking his eyes off of you.

It doesn’t feel like it’s been six days for Bucky. Feels more like six years. Or six seconds. He doesn’t like you like this. Laying in some bed, no color anywhere, tubes sticking out of your nose, eyes closed and not looking back at him.

“Bucky, man, you gotta shower,” Bucky finally looks up at his friend, “Go outside. Touch some grass. I don’t know, but you’re not doing her any good by just sitting here.”

Bucky opens his mouth to disagree, but Sam stops him, “She’s not going to wake up, at least not for now. She’s still induced. They’d need to stop that medication in order to wake her up, which they plan to this afternoon. And even then, it could take her another day or two to wake up naturally.”

Bucky slumps at his explanation.

“And when she does wake up, she’s not going to want to see you like this.”

His hair is greasy, having grown out a bit more over the past couple of months, the circles under his eyes make his face look more his real age, and he can actually smell himself. She wouldn’t want to see you like this.

“I will be back in ten minutes.” He decides, willing to leave your side for a bit in order to clean himself up; clean himself up for you.

Unfortunately for Sam, the nurse returns as soon as Bucky steps out, new syringe in hand.

“Uh, what’s that?” It would be as soon as Bucky leaves that they want to do something to you. They haven’t done anything to you except change your IV bags and now is when they want to change shit up?

“Dr. Cho wants to take her out of her coma. This,” She raises the syringe, “Will help with that. She should wake up either later tonight or tomorrow morning, she’ll be very groggy.”

“Uh, alright.” He replies, not really knowing what else to say, but suddenly regretting convincing Bucky to leave.

It’s fine, she won’t wake up in the next seven minutes while Bucky’s gone.

Except when he only has three more minutes to wait out before Bucky’s return, he hears a soft groan from you. He freezes and looks up at your face, your eyes still closed but eyebrows twisted a bit closer together.

He glances at the clock, panicking. Please, only three more minutes, please.

Eyes force themselves open despite the blinding light and sharp crust around the eyes. Sam watches as your hazy eyes glaze over the room before landing on him, his eyes open wide like he’s looking at a ghost. You move your move a bit but no noise comes out. He can recognize the way you bring your lips together and push out that you’re trying to say something that starts with a B.

“Bucky? You want Bucky?”

“Buuhh,” You breathe out, voice weak from lack of use.

“Uh,” He glances at the clock, one more minute, “He should be here soon, just relax,” He tries, but it seems you take after your boyfriend when it comes to hospital settings.

You reach your uninjured arm to the oxygen tubes in your nose, pulling them away from your face and off your ears, next reaching for the IV in your arm. Sam slaps a hand over yours when you try to tear the tape off. Why would you tell her to relax, you idiot, that’s like the worst possible thing you could’ve told her in this situation!

How did you wake up so fast? He knows you were experimented on years ago and that HYDRA injected you with something while you were captured a few days ago, but are you enhanced like that? Enough for medicine to go through your system that quickly? What the hell did they inject you with?

“Stop -” He starts, reaching for your hands to stop them from pulling at the tubes.

“Sam, what the hell are you doing?!” Bucky’s voice booms into the room.

Sam whips his head over his shoulder to see a freshly showered Bucky, hair still wet and dawned in new clothes, as well as a bundle of more colorful patterns he assumes are for you.

“You’re awake.” Bucky realizes, anger dropping form his face and he completely forgets about what looked like Sam trying to take out your IV.

“I leave for ten minutes and you wake up. You weren’t supposed to wake up until tomorrow and you wake up the first time I leave the room.” He approaches the bed, throat tight as he feels an unbelievable relief at seeing your open eyes.

Your face also softens, no longer frustrated and eager to leave. Your hand leaves from underneath Sam’s and reaches out to Bucky, his metal fingers softly getting a hold of yours, bringing them to his lips to plant a kiss on the top.

He leans in and kisses you on the mouth, too, despite Sam’s presence, despite the cracks and dryness in your lips, despite the fact that you haven’t had any water or toothpaste in your mouth in six days.

Water!

“Let me get you some water, sweetheart, hold on.” Bucky drops your clothes in the chair he’s been sleeping in for six days and walks over to the counter to pour you a small cup of water. Sam realizes that the both of you are very occupied with each other now and takes his opportunity to leave before Bucky remembers the scene he saw when he came in.

I’ll check in later, he thinks, before leaving quietly.

He holds the straw still for you with one hand and gently helps lift your head up with the other, helping you take small sips of water.

“‘M tired,” You whisper, still weak.

“Sleep, my love, you can rest all you want, as long as you promise to wake up.” He brushes a hand along your face, taking in your features, and happy to feel your skin while you’re awake and looking at him now, as opposed to lying in a coma.

“Stay,” You tell him, hand grabbing at his shirt to pull him closer to you, trying to communicate to him that you want him to lie down with you, that you want him close.

Luckily, he takes the hint.

He carefully slides into bed next to you on your good side, making sure nothing bumps your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for you to snuggle into his body and let exhaustion take over once more.

He even sleeps a bit, too. Having you in his arms, feeling your body move with your breathing, slow and steady, instead of the violent shakes he felt a few days ago.

Your heart stopped. He got it started again on the jet, just as they landed and the doctors were able to take it from there. He watched as they rushed you into surgery, needing to work on your heart, brain, shoulder, and any other injuries you may have. All he could do was wait. Couldn’t watch from the viewing room of the OR. Couldn’t ask anyone; they were all in there with you. You were in there for hours. He was sure you died. That you died hours before they came out but they were thinking of how to tell him.

He wasn’t exactly happy with the news that your heart had stopped a second time and that you were in a coma, but you were alive. You were alive.

He’s scared to ask what they did to you. How long you were in that room with them. If you even remember. He didn’t see who in the room with you and there were no cameras anywhere. He doesn’t even know where to start; there were over 500 people at that base.

A lot of things went through his mind while you were asleep. He just thought about you. Your belongings. What you normally eat for your meals. What you normally wear around the tower. How you work out. How you meditate. How you read. He read to you while you were under, but he’s not sure if you were even aware. He talked to you a lot, too. Some of it jokes, some anger that you would have the audacity to almost die. A lot of love. A lot of tears. A lot of hope that you wouldn’t die unless he’s able to put a ring on your finger first.

He hopes you weren’t aware of any of that, looking back.

He closes his eyes and allows himself to relax a bit, dreaming of that ring, a white picket fence, and you.

Your recovery is difficult. Your hands trembled for a few days after waking up, either after effects of electro-shock therapy or just the trauma of being captured by Hydra again.

You couldn’t remember the men that were there with you. You try, and you remember their hands on your skin, holding you down, the flesh and metal merging together in your memories but it all gets blurred. You begin to catch pieces of that day, and like an old movie with the film being burned, holes erupt and all that’s left is blackness.

You knew two of the men were your old handlers, so you can try to narrow those down. But the other soldier. The man with two arms made of metal. You remember him. You don’t know who he is, but you remember him. You feel sorry for the guy, even though he shot you. Who knows what they’ve done to him.

You’ve since left the MedBay and have tried to get back to your routine as quickly and normally as possible. Tried, at least.

You flinch as Bucky brushes past you in the kitchen, muttering an apology to him, not wanting him to think that you’re afraid of him.

One thing you’ve noticed as of late is that you’ve been particularly jumpy. Sensitive. And you hate it. You hate the flinching, the spike in anxiety, the nightmares. The confusion.

“I wanted to show you something.” Bucky tells you, urging you to have a seat while he puts together breakfast for the two of you. He’s been extra protective lately, but you understand why and let him do things for you.

You hum, taking a seat and stirring your coffee slowly. You know Bucky has noticed the depreciation in your energy levels. You’re not bouncing off the walls, you’re not teasing him and Sam, you’re not dressing up cute to watch a movie with him. No colorful nail polish, they removed it in surgery and you haven’t bothered to paint them again. And you know he wants to mention it. But he doesn’t, out of politeness, or maybe out of fear.

Is he scared of you? What did they inject you with?

Your thoughts of that syringe are forgotten when a folded piece of paper is placed in front of you. You unfold it to see your messy handwriting, names after name after name scrawled out with the first few crossed out.

“The list. You kept my list?”

“I did. I promised you I’d complete it didn’t I?”

“You didn’t…” You trailed off, not wanting to believe that Bucky finished your list in secret behind the Avengers’ back.

“I didn’t,” He reassures, “But I thought it might help jog your memory; maybe seeing the names will help you put it to the face of who was there with you.”

It’s a good idea. But it’s not what you want to do.

“Uhm,”

“You don’t have to do anything about it now, it was just a thought to help you.”

“Buck,”

“I also thought we could -”

“Bucky, stop.” You snap.

He looks up at you from the list on the table.

“I know I’m weak now, but,” You begin, he opens his mouth, face dropping, wanting to interject, but you don’t let him, “I need you to stop. I need you to treat me like normal. I know I’m weak now, I know I’m having nightmares again, I know I’m not going on missions for a long while now, I know that I still have no fucking idea what they injected me with and what it’s done to my body, but I need to pretend like I don’t know all of that right now. I want normal.” You explain.

His mouth opens and closes again before giving a small nod of his head. “Okay.” He agrees, taking the list from the table and folding it up again. He walks over to your desk where a lot of his stuff has started taking up space, slipping the piece of paper into a notebook.

“I don’t ever want to hear you call yourself weak again. You’re my girl and you're as tough as fucking nails, okay?” He tells you seriously after turning around.

You scoff sarcastically before returning your attention to your coffee while Bucky finishes in the kitchen.

As he walks back over to you, hands full of two plates towered high with pancakes, you turn to him, “Don’t forget the syrup, babe,” You tell him, raising your hand to gesture towards the fridge.

You feel a surge of power exit from your hand, shooting Bucky with a burst of energy, sending the plates flying out of his hands.

“Woah!” He yelps, certainly not expecting you to do that because you’ve never been able to.

The plates shatter on the ground, the pancakes slapping on the tile, and you freeze completely, hand stilling in the air, not knowing how you did that and scared to move another muscle.

Silence takes over the room and Bucky looks between the mess on the ground and your eyes that have now blown open wide.

“That’s… new.” Is all he can say.

What was in that syringe they injected you with?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #marvel #bucky barnes fan fiction #ooooooooo new power🔓 unlocked

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (St. Louis)

summary: (pt 1) Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - part 4) Doux and Reader get out of Missouri finally but not before one last stop      (part 5)

warnings: swearing

word count: 6205

a/n: im getting a smidge impatient on my planned mutual pining slow burn as you can see. mmm i want a piece of st louis butter cake. @blixeon​ gets credit for putting the douxie trying to keep y/n away from moppet!douxie idea in my head. its not a big plot point here but idk felt i should still mention it

Douxie stared up at the ceiling with dry, unblinking eyes. There were many interesting cracks in the ceiling, barely illuminated by the light streaming in from the bathroom door. He was wide awake, despite not being able to convince himself to move. He was never a morning person, but once he remembered where he was, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water on him. Y/n was no longer clinging to him when he woke up, albeit, she was not even in the bed at all when he woke up. That had gave him a fright before he realized he could hear the shower running. Somehow, this was worse than if she’d still been there when he woke up. This meant she woke, untangled herself from him, and was probably going to pretend like it didn’t happen, since she couldn’t possibly know he stayed awake long enough to know about it. Which, while waking up in her arms would have been a little awkward, at least he would have gotten a conversation out of it. An acknowledgement. Something.

Speaking of the shower, somehow that was doing a number on him too. It was so strange. They’ve lived together for years now; they’ve shared a bathroom for years now. He’s heard her shower so many fucking times. No sweat. These feelings were making him silly. Perhaps it was this fucking room. The domesticity of it all, which was a weird thing to say when you literally lived with said person. Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining that he was waking up in His Home, listening to His Wife get ready for work in the en suite of Their Bedroom. She didn’t want to wake him, how sweet. She was always worried about him getting more sleep. He’d go help her with her hair, braid it for her. His hands would run through her soft hair as he styled it. She’d kiss him on the nose before she left to go make him a cup of coffee while he got ready. She knew just how he liked it. They’d brush their teeth together, every morning, just like they did last night.

Bleeding balroths, last night. What was he going to do about last night. His dumb heart wouldn’t just be able to leave well enough alone, apparently. Does he,,, say something? Perhaps he should wait to see if she says something. That would be,, the safer route. He knew one thing for sure though. He wasn’t going to act like he didn’t love every second of it. He’d made up his mind. His life has been way too long and lonely for him to keep this ‘it’s not like I like you’ act up. And for Merlin’s sake, he had died not even three days ago. He had almost been gone, and would have never known the love of his beloved. And family wasn’t just who you have, it was also who you’re with. And he was with Y/n. She was already his family, so why not be his family? Like he dreamed of? Yes, he was going to come clean. If she said something. Yes.

Suddenly, he was aware of a noise. Someone had just knocked on the front door of the room. Or less of a knocking and more of a rapping. Archie’s ear’s flicked, but he didn’t stir. Douxie held his breath. The rapping stopped, but now whoever it was trying to open the door. Thank Merlin he warded that thing up. It couldn’t open from the outside, he made sure of it. The door handle stopped moving. Doux still made no noise. Hopefully whoever or whatever that was had decided to move on to easier prey.

Y/n combed her fingers through her wet hair. It was the best she could do at the moment. She’d try and braid it back while it was still wet, so it wouldn’t get even worse. Y/n pulled on the same clothes she’d been wearing for a week. Well, actually she had been wearing a medieval dress for most of it, but still. She looked in the mirror. Not bad for someone on the run. But they did need to make a shopping trip. As much as Y/n did not want to waste an entire other day to a store (thanks Kmart), and didn’t want to spend more of their small savings they were living off of, they did need some things. Backpacks to keep their few belongings close, one more set of clothes each so they could have something to be wearing while they wash the other set, maybe some pajama pants would be nice, although nonessential, a couple of toothbrushes that weren’t the motel provided ones, plus a tube of toothpaste, soap, a hairbrush, phone chargers, some emergency food that wouldn’t spoil, some reusable water bottles, a fucking first aid kit even, lots of stuff. It’s not like they were able to pack for this trip. Hell, they should probably get Nari an outfit that would cover up her, eh, forest spirit-ness. Her running around in leaves isn’t exactly helping their conspicuousness. Despite Y/n not wanting to add to that list, she sure was getting cold in her short-sleeved top. She needed a jacket. She’d been borrowing Douxie’s a bit for the last few days, but if she just stole it then he would be cold. She needed one of her own, she supposed.

Y/n walked out of the bathroom. Archie and Nari were still snoozing, but Doux looked like he was awake. He sat up as soon as he realized Y/n had come out. He looked, troubled. And he had every right to be, she thought. He had just suffered the loss of his mentor and died himself. He had been blankly staring at the ceiling when she’d first came into the room. He probably had so much on his mind. Thankfully he had Archie and herself. They’d be there for him, she’d make sure of it. It’d be best to give him some more time to think, though. She didn’t want to push too hard. He’d tell her if he was struggling, she was sure of it. He’d been so open lately. And they’d had plenty of talks in the past about not expressing frustrations in their lives. He hadn’t been too open with her when they first started living together and it had made being roommates stressful at first. It wasn’t a problem anymore though. They’d worked through it, and it had even brought them closer.

She told him it was his turn for the bathroom now. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then quietly nodded as he got out of bed and headed for the shower. Strangely, this inn stay has been the most normal things had been all week. It was almost like they were home. She was back in her routine of waking, getting ready, telling Douxie it was his turn to get ready. He was so sweet, he always let her have the bathroom first. So chivalrous, although, she had a sneaking suspicion it was more of his excuse to sleep in a little longer.

It was nice, living with Douxie. It was the first time she’d been on her own. Or, well, not on her own per se, since Douxie was there, but at least away from her aunt. Her aunt had practically raised her, but that didn’t mean she was too grateful for it. She felt guilty about that last part, but not too guilty. Her aunt was pretty cold. It was clear that Y/n was just a charity case to her, a beggar who wouldn’t be looked at twice if not for blood relation. She hadn’t even bothered telling Y/n about their family’s magic until Y/n had stumbled face first into it herself. And even then, she only taught Y/n a minimal number of spells, just enough to control it, so she could successfully hide it. Didn’t need some troublesome untrained wizard ruining the family name and scaring the party guests. Y/n didn’t even know that wizards were pretty much immortal at a certain point until she noticed it herself. The people she had grown up with were all out there getting their pretty adult faces, and she was stuck with a baby face. Her aunt only told her once she questioned it. She was well past being nineteen now, but was going to be stuck like this forever apparently. What a great way to live.

Of course, she was absolutely thrilled when she found out her new roommate was in the same boat as her in that department. It was serendipity. The whole thing with Douxie was perfect, really. She had heard through her friend who worked at Hextech that someone had put up a roommate ad flyer on the company’s bulletin board and she called right away. She hadn’t been having any luck apartment hunting. She couldn’t afford rent on her own with her bookstore job, and Arcadia Oaks wasn’t exactly a college town teeming with people looking for roommates. A wizard roommate would be perfect, and the price was right. So imagine her surprise when said new roommate also turned out to be her boss. Y/n hadn’t even known he was looking for a roommate, let alone that he was a fellow wizard. His old roommate, Jack, had gotten married and moved out last month, he told her. Y/n was surprised at how very easy it was getting into this agreement too, Doux already knew her so he didn’t even interview her. And she didn’t have to worry about new person awkwardness. It really was serendipity. Of course, it hadn’t been all rosy, as mentioned before, but they were really groovin’ together now.

Y/n stretched out on the bed. She could hear the water running through the wall. It had been so awesome living right above her job. She got to sleep in, and she’d get ready, eat some breakfast, and be able to instantly step into the bookstore. She’d never be late ever again. Or she never was late again. That was a depressing thought. But hey, bright side, now they could have all the fun of starting up a new bookstore. Perhaps she could convince Douxie to add on a tea shop this time too. One that had cute little round tables with pretty gingham table cloths and flower vases, filled with flowers that they grew themselves in the pots on their balcony. They’d make sure the new bookstore had a nice window that was meant for a display but they’d leave as a place for Archie to sleep in and make snarky comments as he watched the people go by. Douxie could paint the letters on the signs and window, he was great at that. It’d be a task, but truly, they had to remake their bookstore. Even if not in Arcadia. A new bookstore they could fill up with love, that’d be an idea Y/n could hold on to.

Stars, she loved their bookstore. She loved the smell. She loved the peaceful homey vibe. She loved the man who owned it. Whoops, forget about that last part. She even loved the quirky characters it drew in. One time, she encountered this really crazy lady, and she wasn’t even sure if this lady was real or if she dreamt her, since she was the only witness. But Mordrax’s miracles, was this lady something. It started normally enough, Y/n picking up the store’s landline.

“GDT Arcane Bookstore! Please state your grievances.” She knew in the back of her mind that she was the only person who found her dumb jokes funny, but she still made them to brighten up her own day. Also to piss off Hisirdoux with her unprofessionalism. He made the same passive-aggressive ‘I’m disappointed in you’ face every time. It was fun.

“Yes, Hello. I would like to know if you carry any children’s books.”

“Yes ma’am, we sure do. A whole section.”

“Great. And are you child friendly?”

“Are we-, child friendly? I-, Yes I suppose we are ma’am.”

“Perfect. And you’re open until eight?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you, young lady.”

The whole phone call was odd. Y/n wasn’t too jazzed about being called ‘young lady’ either. She had mocked the lady as soon as the phone call ended, but she shrugged it off, and had forgotten that the whole thing had even happened as she went about her day. Then, at about seven, this lady rolls up. She was dressed to the nines but like, in an old rich person way. Long fur coat, black dress underneath with pearls around her neck. On one arm, she had a fancy purse covered in the logo of a fashion brand Y/n wasn’t going to admit she recognized. In the other, she carried a large porcelain doll, the size of a five-year-old, which was dressed in a frilly pink dress that remined her of the dresses her aunt used to make her wear. When Y/n greeted her, she recognized the voice as the strange caller from earlier. Y/n got the feeling that some sort of shit was about to go down, and couldn’t wait. If only Archie was here.

Fur coat lady sat her doll down on the old loveseat in the sitting area and asked Y/n to keep an eye on the doll while she went to go pick out some books. Emily could be so mischievous sometimes, she told Y/n. She assured fur coat lady that she’d watch Emily like a hawk. The doll’s painted eyes stared into Y/n’s soul. Fur coat lady came back far longer than Y/n was comfortable with. She asked Y/n if Emily had been a good-mannered girl. Y/n just nodded, not sure if she should be encouraging this, on second thought. Fur coat lady then preceded to read the doll nine children’s books in a row, pausing in between only to ask the doll if she had liked it. Y/n was too baffled to even tell this lady to scram, we aren’t a library, you know. It crept closer to eight, and Y/n was actually dreading what was going to happen when she’d have to kick this lady out, but thank the stars, fur coat lady starts telling her doll about how it was close to its bedtime so they couldn’t read any more stories, aww darn, and they had to go now. She thanked Y/n as she walked out of the door. Y/n flipped that closed sign behind her and quickly retreated upstairs for the night. She’d go make a cup of tea to relax her nerves after that encounter. Y/n had plenty of other wild stories of people who’ve stopped by their bookstore. It was great for conversation at parties.

Y/n loved parties. With Douxie came all his friends, and she didn’t mind that one bit. They were always over whenever Doux had time off. It was so nice; it kept their place lively. Y/n cooked and baked a lot, it was one of those skills her aunt insist she have, and having so many mouths to enjoy her food felt good. And whether it was band practice or game night, she was happy to play hostess. Douxie’s friends were fun to talk to. She suddenly had the freedom to invite her own friends over too. Having so many people around all the time had helped her loneliness big time when she first moved in. Her aunt’s house may have been big, but it was empty. Her aunt threw a fancy party a month, but none of the people there were people worth talking to. It was so cold. Their apartment was warm.

Honestly, as insane as it was to think about, Y/n couldn’t see herself ever leaving Douxie to live on her own anymore. At first, this arrangement was supposed to be a temporary thing until she could find a better job and go off on her own. But somehow along the way, ‘the apartment we share’ became Their Apartment, and the bookstore that she happened to operate with him became Their Bookstore. It was nuts, and also the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to Y/n. It was the home she’d never had. Douxie and Archie were her family. Way more so than her aunt ever was. It was beautiful, magical, marvelous. She no longer worked, she just lived. Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time Doux had formally assigned her a shift. She was just kind of always there. Which she was glad to do. She loved it. And when it was time to stop working, she’d just head upstairs and get to spend even more time with her favourite person. That is, if he wasn’t on one of his bistro shifts. She felt so safe and cared for. She no longer felt alone.

If Douxie wanted to make that, how you say, a little more official, Y/n wouldn’t be opposed to that. She had a hunch that he had some sort of feelings for her, if his recent actions were anything to go by. Although, just like she didn’t want to push him about the angst feelings, she didn’t want to push him in these feelings either. He’d tell her when he was good and ready. Slow and steady wins the race after all. Besides, if she was wrong and he didn’t have feelings for her, she’d definitely be tossing this good thing they had going out the window directly into the dumpster. She had to admit though, waking up this morning cuddled into him was the loveliest way she’d ever woken up in her life. She could get used to that.

She wondered if Douxie would be a wedding person or an elopement person. Not that she expected him to marry her. But it would be nice. She rolled over and found her phone on the nightstand. There wasn’t any harm in looking at some wedding dresses, right? Just in case. Y/n listened to Nari yawn and shuffle over to the bed. She opened an arm for the forest child who snuggled in, curious at what Y/n was looking at. Y/n tilted the phone for her to see. Nari really liked the poufy dresses. She’d point excitedly to the one’s she thought were pretty while Y/n scrolled. While Y/n wasn’t a fan of big frilly stuff herself, she had to admit, those poufy dresses would make her feel like Cinderella, which was never something she’d have thought appealing, but somehow it was. There were some really gorgeous not poufy ones also, and even a cool black one. Some that Douxie might like too. Y/n leaned more towards those, but wasn’t gonna tell Nari that. The veggie lady sure was having as much fun as her right now, surprisingly. Hopefully she wouldn’t blab any of this to Hisirdoux though.

Speak of the devil, he came out of the bathroom and sat on the end of the bed. Y/n quickly closed the app she was scrolling through. She sat up, taking Nari with her. Archie yawned and stretched, after sensing movement in the room. He moved from the chair into Douxie’s lap. After giving Arch a good scratch behind the ears, Douxie turned to Y/n.

“So, what’s today’s itinerary?”

“I-, wait, why do I have to be the one who decides what we do?”

“Because you’re the one who likes to have a plan when it comes to these things.”

“Fair enough.” Y/n pulled up google maps. If she had known she would have to do this she would have done it while he got dressed instead of fantasizing about their wedding. “Okay, so as much as I hate to say this, but we gotta go back to the store today.”

Douxie groaned as he laid back. His still wet hair was gonna dry funky like this, but he didn’t care. “Fine. We’ll do that in Illinois. We gotta get out of this town before anything else.”

“I agree,” she paused, seeing something that caught her eye. It would be frivolous, but she couldn’t help herself from asking “Ooh! Can we stop in St. Louis?”

“St. Louis?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun, Douxie. We can go sit in those cafés that people go to in the black and white movies, we can go take a cheesy tourist picture of us by the arch thing, and I’m really craving some St. Louis butter cake now.”

Doux laughed. “Okay, but only for a few hours, Love.” The least he could do was let her have a little down time to relax and have fun after this hell week. Highly populated cities were good for throwing off their scent too.

“Thank you,” she went back to her map, snickering, “And we’ll stop in Effingham to shop.” She snorted.

“Effingham?” Douxie said it correctly, in his proper accent, which was not as amusing.

“Effing. Ham. Baby.” He rolled his eyes.

They booked it out of that motel and out of that town. Douxie all but tossed the room key into the creepy innkeeper’s hands as they rushed out. Back on the boat, safe at last. He ran a mental headcount once they boarded. Y/n always held Nari’s hand when they went places, so they wouldn’t have to worry about her wandering off, but it still made Douxie feel better to go over his tiny mental list and make sure they were both still safe and with him. Archie, he didn’t have to worry about as much. Even if the cat-dragon wandered he’d always come back. He could track Douxie by scent for a hundred miles too. Y/n had a habit of getting lost, though. He had to keep an eye on her. He didn’t need her and Nari off in fairyland where the Order could find and abduct them at any given time.

Douxie’s hair had still been damp when they set off, but the wind took care of that for him. Sure, wind-tousled bangs were in, but not bangs tousled by real wind. He was sure he was rocking it though. He could pass it off as something he did on purpose. People already thought his relatively tame style was outlandish, they’d just think the messy hair was part of the look. His only qualm was Y/n. He didn’t want to embarrass himself to her any further. His Camelot self already inflicted so much damage in that department this week. That moppet with a man bun had messed up spells, quoted sappy poetry to her, bragged about being Merlin’s apprentice, and even tried serenading her with his lute in attempts to impress her. It was mortifying. He had spent the first part of their Camelot adventure distracted by having to keep Y/n away from his younger self. It was not good for the whole ‘save time’ mission. Thankfully, he had Claire there with him, who had agreed to help him once she had buggered the information out of him. Thank Merlin for nosy teen girls. Claire was a godsend.

He had to admit, he was a smidge disappointed that she didn’t bring up the cuddling. Y/n hadn’t even made a joking reference to it in passing. He would have to bring it up then. But when, how? It wasn’t exactly something that would come up in natural conversation.

He watched her, hanging over the ship’s railing again. They passed a field with some cows and she made sure to point at them and say cows. He smiled at that; Y/n always managed to make him smile. He could recall how bad he had felt when Jack left and he thought he was going to have to fire her, his only employee, to keep up with rent. He had asked Zoe if he could put up a flyer in Hextech in a desperate attempt to find someone before that had to happen. And low and behold, among the three answers he got to the ad was miss L/n herself. It was an easy decision really, and it took away the uncertainty since he knew she was someone that he already liked. As a bonus, Y/n didn’t have a familiar of her own that might fight with Archie, because let’s be real, as much as Douxie loved Archie, the dragon-cat wasn’t afraid of stepping on toes. Although, it did feel kind of strange to give Y/n her paycheck and then for her to hand a little more than half of it back to him on rent day. But it just worked.

He remembered the first time he walked by the fridge to see that not only had Y/n added some fridge magnets to the kitchen, but she had taken the time to write a message to him. It, um, was sort of a rude note, meant to tease, an inside joke. Which he thought was funny, he just wished Zoe hadn’t seen it. It was hard to explain, and Zoe never let him hear the end of it. Archie got a kick out of it too. Y/n would switch the message almost daily, and it never failed to make him smile. He still had to deal with his friends seeing them and teasing him about it, but he’d never change her magnet jokes for anything. They would stay there until she replaced them with equally embarrassing messages meant just for him. It felt sweet to know someone was thinking about him enough to come up words meant to make him laugh on a daily basis.

They had just passed by a town called Eureka, which meant they were coming up on St. Louis. Good. Douxie couldn’t wait for lunch. He had the appetite of a winning fat bear these past few days. Probably the stress. That butter cake Y/n had mentioned was sounding so tasty. He could almost smell it. What Douxie hadn’t considered when he agreed to this was that the magic flying ship couldn’t go through metropolitan areas. Well, it could, but it’d be seen. So despite his growling stomach, he wound up taking the ship around the entire concrete jungle of Missouri, staying in the forested areas. He figured he could park the boat over in Illinois, just outside of St. Louis. This added a whole other hour to the trip than he was expecting, but now at least he knew to take large cities into consideration when choosing routes.

After hiding the boat in a heavily wooded area, the four took the bus into downtown. So when Y/n said she wanted to go to an old café from a movie, she had meant a very specific old café from a specific movie. She had told him it wasn’t a big deal and there were plenty of other cafes, but Douxie was gonna get her there by golly. And he did. The happiness written on her face was worth the extra bus miles. And wow, this café had some delicious food. They had salmon, which Archie enjoyed a little more than usual. Said something about paying himself back. As if he paid for anything, being a cat. That St. Louis butter cake did not disappoint. Archie was pretty fond of the cake too. It was too sweet for Nari, though. Y/n savored every bite. Doux watched her, while he ate his own, and it was so cute how smiley this was making her. He’d learn the recipe for this cake so he could make it for her once they got… home.

Douxie was still trying to shake off that depressing thought when Y/n finished up and was already trying to get the move on. Not without getting a picture first, of course. Not satisfied with just the scenery of the café itself, she begged Douxie to pose for her in various spots around it. He obliged, despite his scruffy appearance. She didn’t think he was that scruffy, and what was better than pictures of her favourite person in a cool place she’d always wanted to go. She also snapped one of Archie to post to her cat insta she secretly kept of him. Douxie knew about it, and contributed pictures to it himself, but neither of them were about to tell Archie he was internet famous as archie_the_emo_kitty. These pictures were going to hold good memories in them. All pictures do.

There was one more photo Y/n wanted to get. Silly cliché tourist picture with the gateway arch in the background. She wanted at least one of just her and Douxie, after the group photo. She’d have to somehow get one of Archie too, since she wasn’t about to pass up the chance to make a pun in the caption about Archie being in front of the arch. As she pulled Douxie close to get the picture, she got an idea. She asked him if they could get just one more. He was holding the phone since his arms were longer so he was able to get better angles with them both in it. He agreed, happy to do anything to keep that grin on her face longer. This time, when he leaned down to make their faces closer together, Y/n gave him a kiss on the cheek. The shutter snapped. Look, she wasn’t going to push, but she could nudge. Y/n pulled away and grabbed the phone to look at how it turned out, so cute, and Douxie just stayed there, leaning over, still as a statue, with wide eyes.

“Did you just- k-kiss me?” He didn’t so ecstatic. Maybe she was reading him wrong after all. Okay, time to deny.

“Yeah, it was just a cheek kiss, Doux. It was a cute pose for our picture, see,” She showed him the picture. A perfectly captured moment where they looked so happy. Where her lips would forever be on his still burning face. “Friends do it all the time.”

“Oh. Ah, okay.” That sounded disappointed, and his face wasn’t the picture of joy before, but now he just looked crestfallen. Okay so she wasn’t reading him wrong before. Good to know. She’d,, have to fix this now. She casually grabbed his hand and laced their fingers. That got him looking back up from the ground.

“C’mon, we’ve got about ten minutes to catch the next bus.”

~ ~ ~

Effingham was a quaint place. Y/n had only chosen it for it’s funny name, but it was surprisingly pretty okay. It was home to the world’s largest cross. Which would be cool, for it’s target audience, Y/n supposed. And they had a train depot. Fun. And exactly one singular popular restaurant. Which wasn’t that much more than Arcadia had, Y/n had to give it to them. They were in this tiny little mall, to see about finding some spare clothes. Y/n stopped dead in her tracks to gawk at a store that’s sign identified itself as Rural King. She tugged Douxie’s hand.

“Oh we gotta go in there.”

Douxie took one look at it and shook his head, “Are you really going to drag us into a hunting store just because it has a silly name?”

“No, I guess not,” Y/n took one last look at the place, “Can I at least get a pic of you posing in front of it?”

“Fine.” Douxie suppressed a grin as he complied with her silly request.

Once they got into a real store though, Douxie leaned over to Y/n to tell her something without the clerk hearing. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve got an appearance modifier spell I’ve perfected over the years. We’re not actually here to buy anything, just get some inspiration.”

Y/n nodded, fascinated. Well, that’ll take care of the extra spending problems. Now came the fun part, finding a new look for Nari. Speaking of whom, she was over at a rack, trying on those fake fashion glasses without real lenses in them. She looked really cute in every pair she tried on, and they helped obscure her face. Good. She really took a liking to this square tortoiseshell pair. Y/n took a mental note. It was going to be getting cold soon, and plants tend to freeze in the cold, so they took the veggie lady over to go check out the winter coats. Nari picked out a puffer that looked pretty comfy, but she didn’t like that it was red. It reminded her of Bellroc. Douxie assured her that the one he’d make could be any color she liked. Not surprisingly, she wanted it to be green.

Y/n just decided on a simple outfit for herself, consisting of a black and white striped long-sleeved tee, a black short sleeve tee to layer over that, and a classic pair of jeans. It was easy, comfortable, and didn’t draw much attention. A band kid staple too. Nari wanted to be similar to Y/n and also decided on a striped tee and jeans to go under her coat. Now they just needed to find her something to contain that gorgeous head of grass. Y/n glanced over to see Douxie trying on a cap in the hat section. Perfect. They’d make her a hat. It’d be a big hat, but nothing too much.

Douxie actually did buy a couple of backpacks from the shop. Y/n was a bit confused but he told her how for some reason he couldn’t enchant something that was technically an illusion itself so he had to buy physical bags since he wanted to enchant them to be infinite vessels or something. Y/n nodded. This was interesting. She was pretty good at the magic she did know but it was mostly by instinct. No one had really taught her the technical side of it like this. She never really knew how stuff worked, just that it worked. They headed to the dollar store after finishing up with the clothing, which surprisingly, this little mall had in it for some reason. They quickly found all those necessity items they needed and got out of there fast. They were burning daylight after all.

Once back at the boat, greeted by Archie who was glad they came back within a decent time this go around, Douxie got to work. First, he enchanted those backpacks. Y/n watched his every move, fascinated, and taking mental notes. He stuffed the supplies into the bags, making sure each had emergency food and medicine just in case they’d ever get separated. The first aid kits were a great idea, considering he didn’t know much healing magic himself and Y/n could only do a temporary pain relief spell. Having stuff to bandage up wounds in their bags made Douxie feel slightly better.

Y/n filled Douxie in on the specifics of Nari chosen disguise, and he set to work on that. It came out pretty cute. Nari liked her new duds, taking her time to look over herself. Y/n handed the veggie lady her phone with the front facing camera on so Nari could use it as a mirror. She really liked that. Y/n snickered at Nari trying out different angles.

He moved onto Y/n. He didn’t magically fairy godmother her like he did the forest child, he just made her a spare set of clothes to go in that backpack. He made them according to her request, but paused at the tee shirt. “Do you want me to put a logo or something on this?”

Y/n twirled her hair around her finger. “Hmm. I’m thinking, Ash Dispersal Pattern. They’re my favourite band, ever heard of them?”

Douxie laughed as conjured up the tee. He picked one of his favourite designs from past merch. It could be considered vintage now, but it wasn’t that long ago to Doux. He fancied the idea of getting to see her in his merch a lot more now. She did have one of their tee shirts back in the bookstore, but she didn’t wear it often as it was in rotation with other band’s tees. He didn’t have competition anymore, it seems. He grinned as finished up.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. Now that I know you can just magic up clothes for yourself, I would like your hoodie.”

“I can make you a hoodie like thi-“

“No, no, I want the one you’re wearing, thank you. It’s warm and familiar and it smells like you.” She said half-joking, half-serious. “It would make me feel safer.”

Douxie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In fact some part of him thought he may have just daydreamed that. He wordlessly forked over the hoodie. She took it merrily and put it on, giving it a sniff for good measure. Now he really was daydreaming.

“Thank you, Dewdrop!” Oh, he had a pet name now. He’d hadn’t heard that one yet. Frisky people had called him all sorts of strange and embarrassing things over the centuries. But this one was a first. He guessed it was a play on his name. Dewdrop, ay? That was so soft and sweet. A shiny little dewdrop, the first thing you see in the morning. Ah. It seems that miss L/n was plotting to kill him. She was succeeding.

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #douxie casperan x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #hisirdoux imagine #douxie casperan imagine #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #toa douxie #douxie casperan #my writing #nert

[sephirothisaslut]

Time Travel WIP

Cloud woke up in a tank. Surrounded by an all too familiar green. He doesn’t try to fight. He gave up long ago. He’s been here for years now. And the only comfort he has are the three child Remnants he was occasionally allowed to interact with.

When Cloud traveled back in time, the very first thing he did was kill Hojo. Because even if Jenova still existed, it was Hojo who triggered Sephiroth’s decline to madness. (it also helped that he first awoke in Aerith’s church. Much closer to Hojo than Jenova). 

He spared Sephiroth. When he first saw him, Cloud froze. He looked so young. Too young to be leading an army. Too young to be a SOLDIER. His mind flashed to Denzel and Marlene. Gaia, they’re nearly his age. So he resolved to save him. Save him from being the murderer he used to will never be.

However, things aren’t as easy as it seems.

The planet wont heal from a single lost life.

Hojo was in a very high position of power. A very coveted position of power. Originally, it was Hollander that was slated to replace him. However, many of Hojo’s assistants have also fought for their right. This started a scientific war between different factions. All vying for the right to be crowned Department Head.

Undeniably, Hollander had the upper hand. But it was one of Hojo’s assistants that rediscovered the secret SOLDIER formula. Allowing them to gain better footing to one day snatch the position on the Board of Directors.

This all happened unbeknownst to Cloud.

The height of the Wutai war was at it’s peak. This caused the urgency for a Department Head to be selected even more large.

Cloud, on the other hand, traveled to Nibelheim to finally destroy the Calamity. (He discovered that the Cloud in this time didn’t exist. After all, how can a single soul exist at the same time. Apparently, the younger Cloud had died falling of the bridge) And he did. Throwing it into a vat of mako in the reactor. But to his surprise, the underground lab had still been occupied. So when he broke in, he had no choice but to fight his way through. Unfortunately, he never made it out.

He found three babies fitted into tanks. Mako being fed into their bodies by a tube. Seeing the Remnants this way broke Cloud. He had previously thought of them as mere manifestations. Born from memories. Created as adults. He had never once thought of them as human. That they had once been children. Like him. Like Sephiroth.

And so, Cloud was captured. Sedated with the drugs they used on Sephiroth. Stuffed unto a steel table. Cut open. Dissected. Used in the same he remembered.

Somehow, the scientists thought that he was one of Hojo’s escaped experiments. In a sense, this was true. However, how else are you going to explain the abundance of mutated S and J cells in him?

So once more, he was called a specimen. This time, though, he was called Specimen J2 instead of C.

At first, this confused Cloud. But as time went by. As the frequency of tests grew. As he spent more time in this horrid nightmare. He finally understood.

He was J2. Jenova 2.0.

Without Jenova, SOLDIER enhancements cant be achieved. And without the Calamity’s cells, new SOLDIERS cant be made. And as the war waged on, they needed SOLDIERS more than ever.

Cloud hadn’t known his J cells had mutated. However it seemed like they did. Producing “better quality cells” as the lab coats said.

And so this is how one of Hojo’s former assistants hopped to win.

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

Cloud woke up in a groggy state. He didn’t know how long he’s been here. He knew it’s been years. But he didn’t know exactly how many. His hair had grown long, nearly reaching his lower back. An indication of the time he’s spent in this hell.

He had once tried to reach Vincent, but it proved too difficult.

It seemed like the staff had dumped him into the observation room once more. Probably to test the Reunion Theory in whatever convoluted way.

The door hissed open, and three children were thrown into the room. Kadaj his the floor with a grunt, while Loz and Yazoo seemed to have passed out.

“You have an hour” one of the guards spat.

Cloud nearly tripped as he ran to them. “Kadaj, what happened”

Kadaj only whimpered as Cloud arranged Loz and Yazoo in a more comfortable position.

“It’s combat day” Kadaj quietly answered.

“That’s today?” Cloud cursed. He must have been in the tanks for a week then. Combat day is a weekly test that involves fighting mutated specimens. All four of them tested to the point of destruction. All of them slowly being toughened to one day be presented to the President as ‘Sephiroths’. All so they can win that stupid position Hojo left.

And the last time Cloud had been awake, it was combat day. 

“Hnn, Cloud?” Yazoo stirred from his unconscious state. 

“Shh, I’ve got you” Cloud gently said. He had grown to like the triplets. At first, it freaked him out when they had called him Mother. But he soon talked them into calling him Cloud. However, from time to time, often when they’re in pain or distress, they’d call for their Mother.

Of course, the reason they’d called him Mother was because he was basically their Jenova (sans the mind control power). When he had asked about calling him Father instead, they merely shook their heads and said  “But Sephiroth is our Father. The doctors said so.”

Loz’s coughing spurred Cloud back to the present.

“*cough* Mother? It...It h-hurts” Loz crumpled into a ball.

“Shit, didn’t they heal you” Cloud cursed again. He cradled Loz, and moved him unto one of the raised platforms in the room. He gestured for Kadaj to coax Yazoo closer.

“H-he...He blocked me from the Zolom.” Yazoo wheezed, clinging tightly to Cloud’s lab gown. “and they...T-they hit me because of it”

Cloud clicked his tongue. Trust the Doctors to classify protection as weakness.

“Cloud?” Kadaj asked from Cloud’s other side. “Will he be alright?”

Cloud gazed down at the children. He wanted to tell it’ll be ok, He wanted to utter those words so much, it broke his heart. But he can’t. He can’t promise something so unattainable. 

“I...I don’t know” Cloud whispered instead.

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

Genesis had called Sephiroth earlier about a possible lab in the Nibel region.

After the Wutai war, Genesis had been degrading. And with Hollander kept occupied by the ensuing bid for Directorship, he was simply “too busy to deal with Genesis’ childish wiles”

Ans so, it was up to the elite four (including Zack) to help scour for a cure. Thankfully, Sephiroth had no love for Hojo’s men, so he frequently targeted their labs under the excuse of inspection.

So when Genesis had informed him of a lab under a ShinRa mansion in Nibelheim, he immediately took a detour from his route home. He instructed his men to continue toward Midgar, and that Zack and he has been assigned another  mission.

When they arrived, the townsfolk had been hospitable but confused. After all, the local monster population was controlled. And they haven’t sent an S.O.S to ShinRa. Too ease their curiosity, Zack just told them it was an inspection on the ShinRa mansion, and that they needn't pay a thing.

Their trek to the mansion was chaotic. Mutated monsters everywhere. Large Nibel Dragons intercepted them as they went higher up the mountains. Black, oozing monsters often attacked from atop the trees. And vaguely looking humanoids screeched at them, alerting nearby mosters.

“Whew! It’s a good thing we got here Seph. These things could’ve killed the townsfolk!” Zack whipped his brow.

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. “These must be coming from the lab. Although, I don’t think they’re supposed to release their Specimens into the wild.”

“A break out?”

“Possibly”

They continued, and finally reached the mansion. The townsfolk had told them it was abandoned. However, it looked like people lived here. Or used too.

The monsters seem to have come from here. The gaping hole in the floor basically told them everything.

Zack and Sephiroth drew their swords as they descended into the depths of thr lab. Ready to fight and defend at a moment’s notice. It was silent. Only their breathing and footsteps audible. That was until they heard the sound of a fight. However, the grunts they heard are most definitely human.

“Shit! Could it be one of Hojo’s men?” Zack sprinted to the source of the sound, Sephiroth beside him.

Sephiroth was inclined to agree. That was before he heard the sounds of children screaming.

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

“Kadaj! Stay where you are!” Cloud yelled as he took a piece of metal to brandish as a weapon.

It has been luck. A slip of fate. One of the cages where more violent Specimens are kept broke. It allowed them escape. It gave then the chance they needed to finally break free from their rooms. It was pure chance that it happened while Cloud was out of the tanks. 

A chance Cloud was unwilling not to take. 

But he wanted all of them out. He wanted them all to be free. And he won’t be leaving without all of them.

Loz was still passed out from earlier testing. And Yazoo was trying his best to protect him from stray attacks. Kadaj, on the other hand, was corned between a wall and one of the creatures. Cloud was in no better position. He was injured, quickly losing blood to a gash on the side of his abdomen and right arm.

“Damn!” Cloud bit back a wince as he blocked a strike from the massive cat like thing. Black tar oozing from it’s skin like Geostigma. It’s tail is it’s main weapon, slashing and whipping everywhere.

“Kadaj, I’m coming!” Cloud shouted. But to his horror, Kadaj had been hit.

Kadaj’s scream momentarily distracted the creature, allowing Cloud to impale it’s shoulder.

“Kadaj!” Cloud reached out to the child. He thows his body over him, shielding him from the strike.

...But it doesn’t reach them.

Instead, he looks up and sees his once enemy standing above him. Masamune raised. But not toward him. Protecting him.

“Sephiroth?” Was all Cloud could utter as he lost consciousness. 

#sefikura #Sephiroth #sephiroth x cloud #cloud #cloud strife #ff7 #ff7 remake #time travel #remnants #kadaj #loz #yazoo #the remnants #zack #fanfic #wip #my post