#i still have some of those bingo asks in my inbox i might get around to them eventually
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drawings
#the walten files#i said i was going to post all of these together eventually and then i totally didnt do that#i just remembered#i still have some of those bingo asks in my inbox i might get around to them eventually#susan#ashley#richie#felix#jack#rosemary#bon the rabbit#''bon''#art tag
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Duke Thomas/The Signal Fic Recs
This is for @capttain-emo who saw me reblog this wonderful rec list by @stories-from-the-batcave , and asked if I knew any more. (I highly recommend those, btw, I love all the fics on that list! Yes, that includes the one I wrote in there) Duke Thomas is my favorite Batfam member, so I have a bunch! Unfortunately, there isn’t as much Duke content out there as I’d hope - people just don’t seem to like him as much for some reason? It’s sad. So, there are gonna be a couple here written by me. Rest assured, I have way more Duke content on the way - including a WIP coming out this week! (Ao3 linked out at the top of my blog)
I love recommending Fics, so hit me up in my inbox if there’s a trope or character or relationship (platonic or not) that you’d really love to read! I also write fan fiction, and my requests are always open!
1. Siblings: The Truth of the Matter by Me!
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & his siblings
Duke had a strange family. Two of his siblings had been raised from birth to be assassins. One was born in a circus. One had been a crime lord for a time. Yet another was the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company by the age of seventeen. All of them dressed up in spandex every night to punch bad guys.
So when he was woken up by icy water being splashed in his face, tied to a chair in nothing but his boxers, he wasn't surprised. Now, that's not to say he wasn't worried. Duke was definitely worried. Especially since it was these two.
AKA Duke gets tied up and questioned by his siblings, all while drugged with Truth Serum!
2. Bliss by Me!
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Damian
Duke walks in on a sleeping assassin child in need of comfort, and takes a chance. Brotherly bonding ensues!
3. An ever growing family of birds and bats by alicecrow6
Rating: General Audiences/Teen Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Damian
a series of Batkids Age Reversal fics where Damian comes first, then Harper, then Duke and so on.
4. look at me, all the things I can do by Aelig
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Cass, Duke & Bruce
"Duke took a bite of his toast, gaze still on Bruce. His foster father was sipping at his coffee, eyebrows frowning. To an outsider, you would think he was reading the morning news on his tablet, like always; Duke knew better. Bruce's look was a little away from the screen, his lips downward.
It was almost funny, to watch Bruce internally panic."
OR: It's the morning, and Duke is going back to school for the first time since his injury.
5. The Batchair(s) Issue by NightFlier
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen w/ background ships Relationships: Duke & Cass, Duke & Steph, Steph/Cass Trio & Batfam
Duke Thomas feels like an outsider, and not just because he's part of the new Outsiders team roster. He's the newest member of the legendary Batclan and hasn't yet formed the close bonds that the others share. Not to mention, he's the only active Meta on the team. As if it wasn't hard enough to relate with people with such colorful, unique backgrounds.
But it's okay! Duke has a plan and it'll probably work for a while before crashing & burning. BatShenanigans ahead.
6. All That Glitters is Gold (Unfortunately) by IndefiniteIceCube
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Tim, Duke & Steph
The world is gold and Duke can't breathe.
He can't breathe.
He was sitting in AP World History just a minute ago.
Was it a minute ago? It seemed like a minute ago but it could have been hours because all he can focus on is that he can’t breathe. His lungs won’t fill and- and he’s trying he swears but he just. can’t. breathe.
And the gold—
-----
Duke's powers emerge.
It doesn't go well.
7. Be the Light that Helps Others See by Ace_Corvid @ace-corvid
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Batfam
Duke didn't really know what to expect from movie nights with the Bats.
He could only assume they approached this with the same determined intensity as they approached everything else. They were all so extra it was like their gauge for normal was completely broke. He wasn't really prepared for this.
And yet here he was. Surrounded.
(Alternatively; Batkid's have a movie night.)
8. I've Made a Million Mistakes by Sohotthateveryonedied
“Y’all need Jethuth.”
Rating: Teen Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Batfam
“Don’t worry,” Dick says, throwing his arm around Duke’s shoulders. “Everyone in this room has had their teeth knocked out at one point or another. It’s a rite of passage around here.”
“I don’t know how to tell you thith, but that doethn’t happen to normal people. We acthually prefer to keep our teeth, believe it or not.”
“Wait until you get your first major battle scar. Trust me, they’re cool.”
“Y’all need Jethuth.”
9. Children (All of Them) by TheFalconWarrior
Rating: Teen Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Batfam
In which Tim is not stupid but Jason might just be, Damian is furious, Dick kind of feels like he should be doing…something, Steph is ecstatic, and Duke wonders how long he can survive.
10. In the Dark of the Night by Aelig
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Jason, Batfam
"Duke was woken up by someone sliding into his bed. Someone big judging by how the mattress shifted.
Because Duke was a well-trained vigilante, his first reflex was obviously to kick whoever was being creepy right now and push them out of his bed.
It was only when the someone landed on the floor with a yelp that Duke realized that he was at Wayne Manor, which was incredibly secure – normally. He could recognize the voice, too."
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: none
OR: The Batfam and their way to deal with nightmares.
11. Welcome to the Family by angstyelephant
In which Duke Thomas goes back to the beginning.
12. Family-- by incorrectbatfam
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & batfam
“Your assignment over the weekend is to write a poem about your family.”
13. I'm Still Climbing(Even When the Rest Have Fallen) by anidear
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Dick, Duke & Damian
After his first exposure to the Fear Toxin, Dick checks in on Duke.
14. The cat and the newcomer by Fleur_de_Violette
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Alfred the Cat
Duke always found people talking to their pets about their problems silly. And yet here he was.
15. Duke-napped by NightOwl1600
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Bruce, Duke & batfam
The others don’t really bother Duke with his business. They all care about him, he knows, but outside of the vigilante business, they don’t really care to ask aside from the typical “How was school?” or “Can you buy me some chilidogs after you’re done with whatever you’re doing?” So he’s a bit concerned if they’ll even notice when he’s been kidnapped as Duke Thomas, Bruce Wayne’s newest ward. But he’s not about to panic; as the others seem to be so determined that traumatizing new experiences are part of Bat-initiation.
Meanwhile, the rest of the family freaks out because “Did anyone go over the do’s and don’ts of getting kidnapped with Duke?!”
16. Nightmare/Hallucination by FearfulKitten @fearfulkittenwrites
Rating: Teen Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Jason
Duke found himself staring at the ceiling again. His heart was no longer racing, but he wouldn’t exactly say that he was calm either. This is the moment after the end of a race you lost, when all of the adrenaline is starting to wear off and the hopelessness sets in. That’s it. You’re out of the competition, buddy.
Except that this isn’t a race, and Duke hasn’t just lost his spot for the finals. He had simply lost sleep.
17. Jason Todd, Big Brother Part 8792 by Gemini_00
Rating: General Audiences Category: Other Relationships: Duke & Jason, Duke & Damian
Robin and the Signal sneak along the Outlaws mission in order to steal a bazooka and hang out with Kori. Jason has to deal with two little brothers and feeding a team of outlaws. He's putting this on Bruce's credit
18. "What's wrong? What's happening?" By FearfulKitten @fearfulkittenwrites
Rating: General Audiences Category: Other Relationships: Duke & Tim
Duke runs into trouble during his daytime patrol, and ends up needing some back up. The resident over-productive insomniac bat picks up the call.
(A little bit of and Duke interaction for a nice tumblr Anon :) I hope you like it!)
19. Nightmares by FearfulKitten @fearfulkittenwrites
Rating: Teen Category: Other Relationships: Duke & Dick
Filling the nightmare square on my bingo card with the help of an anon on tumblr who asked for a fic where Duke has a nightmare and asks for the help of one of the older batboys!
"Duke checked the time again. Two minutes had passed.
Time was ticking too slowly. He was tired, but sitting alone in the dark was definitely not a good idea right now.
He’d have to ask for help."
20. Brothers in Arms by TheFalconWarrior
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Batfam
...possibly against each other. Batkid prank wars are the worst.
Duke is learning. Tim is evil. So is Damian. Dick is embarrassing. Jason is dramatic. Steph is brave. Babs is all-knowing. Cass wants in. Alfred is a little amused, and Bruce is so. Tired.
21. First rule of Robin, right? By ALzzza
Rating: Teen Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Damian,Duke & Dick
"Nothing’s going to hurt you—you got that, nothing.”
Duke doesn’t have anything better to do but it’s not like that matters. Hell, he’d drop everything and run—always in time to catch this little bird.
Or, Damian’s Been Having Nightmares, Duke To The Rescue—Dick Always With The Reassurance
22. Duke's Diary by fiery_day
Rating: Teen Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Batfam,Duke & Dick
This is a couple of journal entries by Duke as he learns to become Signal. He relates his thoughts on the batfamily and aspects of the vigilante life he now leads.
23. Significance of a Gala by nxttime
Rating: Teen Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Batfam,Duke & Jason, Duke & Tim
This year’s Wayne Gala would be Duke’s first, and he had no clue how to feel about it.
25. The cloud that looks after each other by Batmango
Rating: Teen Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Bruce, Duke & Goliath
Duke wakes up the Bat cave after a fight with the Joker.
For MashpotatoeQueen5 as a thanks for using so many of my prompt in the excellent January Jot-Downs.
Prompt: a hurt comfort after an injury/illness? Or just cuddles. I love me some cuddles.
26. The One You’ll Know By by Redrikki
Rating: Teen Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Bruce, Bruce & Alfred
After losing his memory, Bruce asked Alfred not to tell him about his vigilante life, but he's beginning to think his butler left a few other things out. Like, say, his kids.
27. Duke Thomas Hates Bullies by Gemini_00
Rating: Unrated Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Steph, Duke & Tim, Duke & Bruce, Duke & Damian
Everyone loves that Duke Thomas isn't like all those other crazy Waynes. Everyone loves that the Signal isn't trying to get himself killed. Duke may not see Bruce as his dad, but he is definitely part of the bat family. and nobody is going to bully his family. Or, Duke Thomas Kicks Ass.
28. batman is dancing to fortnight and this might as well happen because vigilante life is already so *Goddamn* weird (Duke Thomas: A Memoir) by MashpotatoeQueen5
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Bruce, Duke & Batfam
You may not have time to unpack all that, but Duke Thomas does.
(He doesn't get it either.)
(He loves his new crazy family nonetheless.)
29. In a World Where You Can Be Anything, Be Kind by RedHoodie1723
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Bruce, Duke & Batfam
Day Six of Batfam Week 2020: Take Your Child To Work Day
It was Duke's first time visiting Wayne Enterprises, and he couldn't help but be intrigued by the Martha Wayne Foundation.
30. You’re My Brother by blackpercy
Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Duke & Dick
Duke's missing his parents a lot and Dick comes in to help his little brother.
And that’s it for the list! I hope you enjoy these thirty works! Once again, send me an ask if you have requests for fics, recs, or if you have general questions!
#duke thomas#the signal#batfam#duke fic recs#batfam fic recs#fanfiction recs#dc comics#batman comics#fanfiction#request
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howdy there! 11 and 22 for those writer asks, perhaps? ;P
11. What’s something you have learned as a writer?
That I’m not as bad as I think I am lol. That, and it’s really nice (if not extremely frustrating sometimes) to get all these ideas I have floating around in my head, *out* of my head and not really onto paper, but you get my meaning aslhasdad
22. Care to share any future WIP ideas you have lined up?
God I have so many. Aside from the outlast au full chapter thing I’m always gushing about, I still have 3 kiss prompts sitting in my inbox that I have to answer oops, and a d&d chrashley piece. And just because this seems like a perfect time to share it, I’ll post under the cut the ideas I had for the rest of the bingo tropes (that may or may not be written depending on whether people bully me into writing some of them or not)
Found Family: likely something to do involving the Phantasia crew
Fluff: the idea I had where ash accidentally kept one of chris’s sweaters and after she purposely takes a second one, chris finds out when he goes to ask her if he had left any there recently and finds her wearing one
Snowed In: ash and chris find themselves stuck together in the guest cabin when a heavy snow storm blows in
Comedy: chris and ash debate keeping their 10+ year old promise to name their first born kid after josh when they discover that ash is pregnant with twins (this one would have been next on the list if my laptop hadn’t started crapping the bed (i’m so sorry kenzie! you finally managed to land on one of the parent/kid fics and i couldn’t even fill it!))
Slice of Life: josh babysits six year-old joshlynn
Body Swap AU: cress and the gang find out that dhaos’s teleporter did more then just send them into the prison cells in the basement of the castle
Coming Out: ash panics and blurts out that she’s actually ace when her and chris are about to have sex for the first time, and after some miscommunication from both of them chris reveals that he is also ace and also really relieved that they’re not gonna do this anymore
Crossover: ud/zombie (last of us?) with climbing chrash as a focus, chris injures his leg badly in a supply run gone terribly wrong and find themselves recuperating in an abandoned department store
Free Space: due to chester grabbing on to arche’s broom when they go though dhaos’s teleporter, they find themselves sharing a cell and with no way to escape and nothing else to do they talk about plans and what ifs for the future (this one was also on the to-do list, and if I do write it it will be because this ideas been in my head for over six years now...)
Holiday Fic: chris and ash getting ready to take recently turned one year-old joshlynn trick-or-treating for halloween
“There was only one bed”: chris, josh, and ash finally meet back up in the outlast au and spend the next few minutes trying to find an empty room in the administration block so they can sleep together for the first time in six months (original ending of the outlast au, but other plans have made this ending an impossibility now. I’m still super attached to the idea though so I refuse to just chuck it away into the trash bin lol)
Horror/Dark: teenage joshlynn manages to find videos of the events that had taken place on blackwood mountain when trying to find trivia about her new fav horror movie and realizes that her parents haven’t told her everything about their past, or the ‘friend’ they named her after
Amnesia: chester hits his head/gets hit by a spell that makes him lose his memories starting from just before toltus is destroyed
(Un)Happy Ending: sole survivor ashley, the original idea I had for the ‘story’ prompt last year
Supernatural/Paranormal AU: guy tries to rebuild the lodge years after the events of ud, and is finding a lot of problems due to the fact that it is super haunted with all the ghosts of the kids that died that night the lodge burnt down
Fake Dating: in trying to stop a classmate from asking ash out all the time, josh lies and tells the guy that the two of them are already dating, and things get complicated when the guy spots her having lunch with chris and both claim that all three of them are dating actually
Mystery Solving: ash knows that chris and josh always try to throw her a suprise party for her birthday, but when she can’t find any clues or hints she is more determined then ever to find out what they’re planning
Road Trip: continuation of ‘there was only one bed’ and how chris, ash, and josh manage to escape
Celebrity AU: a famous movie director, a best-selling author, and a triple a game developer walk into a bar…
Rare Pair: climbing chrash definitely, might use the highschool shop class fic but still unsure
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Open Your Eyes
Okay, it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, and I had WAY too much fun writing this one! This is @flashflashitsash‘s request from my Lovesquare Fluff Bingo. She asked for “Seat Buddies” with an identity reveal. (Sorry, Ash...Tumblr ate your ask lol)
A big thank you to @falling-oceans for being my super awesome beta!
(Also, being on a couch counts as seat buddies, right?)
If anyone else would like to request a bingo prompt, pick a number and a prompt from the board below, and send it to my inbox here.
AO3
Fanfiction
Marinette never considered herself a morning person. She hated that gritty feeling in her eyes and the thick taste in her mouth that always accompanied a pitiful night’s sleep. It was on days like this that the sun was her enemy and her pillow was her only consolation.
Unfortunately, today was one of those days.
Without opening her eyes, she flopped over, grabbed the blanket that covered her torso, and pulled it up to her chin.
In her groggy haze, Marinette’s hand searched for the familiar softness of her cat pillow. Her quest proved fruitless when her palm slid across a smooth, cotton-clad surface and collided with a fluffy mop. Her fingers tightened around the foreign object inside her personal bubble.
Did a cat sneak in through my hatch last night?
Then the mop groaned.
With a start, she recoiled her hand, but fear kept her eyes glued shut. Momentarily pushing the pillow texture mystery out of her head, Marinette gathered all the courage she could muster and moved her hand through the unidentified mass of silky strands.
The clenching in her gut lessened when she wasn’t immediately attacked, but she knew better than to let down her guard. Paris was no stranger to bizarre occurrences, and the last thing she needed was to be caught unawares by another one of Hawkmoth’s Akumas.
She didn’t want to fight the mop, but she would if she had to. After all, she was Ladybug. Albeit a detransformed Ladybug, but Ladybug nonetheless.
Marinette retracted her hand and let it slide down the strange pillow beneath her. She pressed against its surface only to find that it had little give and was somewhat chiseled.
What kind of mop is this?
“G-murnin.” The mop was speaking to her. “Swerm I?”
Well, it was mumbling, but it was sentient.
Please don’t be an Akuma.
Without warning, Marinette’s well-defined pillow-mop shifted beside her and took a deep breath. “Why hello, my lady! How do you manage to smell so good all the time?”
Marinette froze.
This was no pillow.
These were abs.
Very familiar abs.
Familiar abs that were definitely not in a super-suit right now.
“Chat!” His name came out as a squeak. “Please tell me that it’s really you! You’re not a talking pillow Akuma, right?”
His body shook with the rumble of a laugh. “It’s just me. No Akuma to fight right now.”
Marinette wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but a nagging worry still consumed her. “I’m not so sure about that, Chaton. Something’s not adding up right now.”
“Now that you mention it, all of this does seem a little strange.” A pair of strong, steady arms wrapped around her torso. “Don’t get me wrong, waking up next to you is a dream come true, but I’m definitely supposed to be at a friend’s house right now.”
“Me, too.” Marinette buried her face into her partner’s chest. “And neither of us are transformed for some reason, so don’t open your eyes.”
“Got it.”
“I’m serious! No peeking.”
“When have I ever given you a reason to not trust me?”
“Hmmm, let’s see. Well, there was the time when-”
He cut her off, sending her into a fit of giggles. “My lady!”
The mock hurt in his voice brushed away some of the uncertainty that shrouded her mind. “Don’t worry, Chaton. I trust you with my life.”
His arms tightened around her waist. “That’s good because you had me worried for a second there.”
She nuzzled her face against the crook of his neck, wanting more than anything to stay with him forever, but unfortunately there were more pressing matters to attend to. “So, as much as I'm enjoying this unexpected cuddling session, we really do have to figure this out.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He sighed and pulled his head away from hers. “And it’s just my luck that I finally get to hold you in my arms like this and it’s probably because of stupid Hawkmoth.”
“Sorry, kitty, but if it’s any consolation, I’m really enjoying it...even though we might be in danger.”
“None of this makes any sense! We aren't supposed to detransform unless we’ve used our powers, and I don't remember fighting a second Akuma yesterday. Come to think of it, I don't remember transforming at all last night.”
“Neither do I. The last time we were transformed was when we fought Masked-Tape, but that was in the middle of the day.”
“Surprisingly, this new problem is an even stickier situation than the one he created.”
“Focus, Chat Noir! Now is not the time for jokes!”
“Sorry, my lady, but I haven’t been able to focus since you gave me that little parting gift yesterday.” His mouth came dangerously close to her neck, allowing the warmth of his breath to cling to her skin. “And you kind of ran away before we could talk about it.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I was about to detransform! What else was I supposed to do?”
“So, does that mean that you leaving was not meant to be a reflection of the quality of that kiss?” His breath once again caressed her bare skin as he spoke, sending a shiver through her body. "Because you have no idea how worried I was about that last night."
“I'm sorry you felt that way. I never meant for you to think that I didn't like it." Marinette turned her head and rested her nose against his. "I loved it, and I wouldn’t mind doing it again sometime.”
“Oh, really?” His lips ghosted hers, sending her thoughts into a frenzied blur. “Because kissing you was the greatest moment of my life.”
“But it wasn’t our first kiss.”
“But it was the first one I remembered. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think it was the first one that meant something to you.”
Her breath hitched. “It meant everything to me. You mean everything to me.”
Chat erased the remaining space between them and gently pressed his lips against hers. Unlike the previous day’s kiss that had taken place after watching her partner nearly die, this one was soft and cautious. She leaned into the kiss, giving him silent encouragement.
It had taken years, but Marinette was happy with how her relationship with Chat had evolved. Shortly after she’d become the new Guardian, there was a brief period where he stopped using any nicknames when addressing her. She hadn’t realized that she’d missed it as much as she did until she heard him refer to her “my lady” after a particularly difficult Akuma battle. From there, her heart slowly began softening towards his affections.
Giving up her first crush had been painful but necessary. Adrien belonged with someone else. Even though she still loved him, Marinette had managed to become good friends with Adrien, and she learned how to open herself up to the possibility of loving someone else. After coming to this conclusion, she knew it was only a matter of time before she finally allowed herself to fall in love with her partner.
For years, she’d been brushing away her feelings for him, but yesterday had given her the wake-up call she’d needed. Sure, Adrien would always hold a special place in her heart, but without a doubt, she was also deeply in love with Chat Noir.
And now, he was here, and she was in his arms. While the situation was not ideal, she felt safe and loved.
Marinette lost herself in his essence. Her hands rested against his chest as his arms tightened around her torso. His breath tasted sweet on her lips, and the steady thrum of his heartbeat against her open palm sent fireworks shooting through her veins. Their connection was electric.
When the need to breathe finally overtook her senses, she pulled away from his face, and the coolness of the morning air sent her thoughts hurtling back towards reality.
Chat shifted beneath her, but before his lips met hers once again, she turned her head away from his. “We still have a problem to solve.”
“Ugh, fine. But I want an extra kiss later.” There was a teasing lilt in his voice.
“Deal.”
“Wait, really?”
“Chat, I will give you endless kisses if you can help me figure this out.” Doing her best to maintain some semblance of self-control, she gently pressed her lips against his jaw. “As many kisses as you want.”
“Wow.” A noise similar to that of a balloon slowly losing air manifested itself as a strained whine from Chat’s throat. “I’d like that.”
Marinette bit her lip in an attempt to hold back a laugh. “Then we should probably get to work.”
“You got it, my lady.” His voice cracked before he paused to clear his throat. “Um...what should we do first?”
She took a deep breath and did her best to focus. “Okay, well, let's retrace our steps. What’s the last thing you remember doing before you woke up this morning?”
“I was watching movies with some of my friends.”
“Me, too! Maybe it was a technology Akuma that brainwashed us or erased our memories.”
“I guess that would explain how we wound up on this couch together.”
“We’re on a couch?”
“It definitely feels like a couch.” The sound of his hand dragging across textured fabric heightened her senses. “Actually, it kind of feels like my friend’s couch.”
Her stomach dropped. “Does that mean we’re at your friend’s house?”
“Uhhh...probably?”
“Wait...is your friend here in the room with us?”
“Do you want me to look around and see?”
The only voices she’d heard since she'd woken up were theirs, so she had assumed that they were alone; however, the success of their escape plan hinged on their ability to speak freely.
“Yeah.” She nodded her head against his chest. “You can look. Just make sure you don’t look at me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of breaking your trust.” Chat kissed the top of her head, calming some of her nerves. “I’ll just take a quick look.”
Tension hung in the air as she awaited his findings. “Anyone else with us?”
“Okay, so we’re definitely in my friend’s apartment, but we’re alone right now.” A muffled crash and a chorus of laughter sounded from another room. “But I don’t know how long that will last.”
Marinette huffed. “Well, that’s just great! How are we supposed to get out of this without revealing our identities?”
Chat grew silent before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “My lady, may I offer you a suggestion?”
The increased pressure of his body against hers sent her heart fluttering. “I’m listening.”
“What if, and try to stay with me here, okay?” He took a deep breath. “What if we stopped keeping our identities a secret?”
She deflated. “We can't do that.”
“Yes, we can.”
“You know we can’t know each other’s identities.”
“Would it really be the worst thing in the world if we did?” One of his hands slid off of her back and cradled her cheek. “We could open our eyes right now.”
Pressure began to build behind her eyes as tears threatened to fall. “Chat…”
“My lady, please. Just think about it!”
“But Hawkmoth…”
“Is going to get his butt kicked.” His breath came out as a chuckle. “Just imagine how much we could accomplish if we could plan and hunt for clues together as civilians.”
Her heart yearned for the world that Chat described, but the voice in the back of her mind screamed louder than her desires. “But it would put us in danger.”
“We are already in danger. We’re in danger just by feeling emotions, and we will continue to be in danger long after Hawkmoth is defeated. Danger is just one of those things that comes with having a Miraculous.”
“Master Fu was pretty adamant about us not knowing.”
“But he’s not here anymore, and you’re the Guardian. Do you know how much easier it would be if I could find you outside of the mask? What if I need more of that magic cheese? Or what if something happens and one of us can’t show up to a fight?”
Her racing thoughts came to a screeching halt, allowing the protest in her heart to shatter some of her resolve. “I never thought of it that way.”
“My lady, do you know how worried I am that one day you’ll just disappear and I won’t know how to find you?”
“That won’t happen.”
“But what if it does? I already had one important person in my life disappear. I barely made it through that, and losing you would break me.”
“Oh, Chaton.”
“I love you, Ladybug.” He nuzzled his cheek against her head. “I always have and I always will. I know this is scary, but not being able to get to each other if we’re in trouble is even scarier.”
She pressed a hand against his cheek. “I love you, too, Chat. You mean everything to me, and...”
“And?”
“And…” Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to his face, attempting to drive away the rest of her inhibitions by finding safety in his steady embrace. “I think I’m ready to see who you are.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “Then open your eyes.”
Marinette took a deep breath and allowed her eyelids to flutter, briefly letting light pierce through her self-inflicted darkness. A shock of blond moved in her periphery, forcing her eyes shut once again.
She slumped against him and silently cursed the fear that still prevented her from filling Chat’s request. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” Marinette knew he was right, but the nagging voice that was usually in the back of her mind was screaming in her ears.
“But it’ll change everything!” Her words tumbled out involuntarily, and when her brain finally registered what she’d said, a broken sob escaped her lips. “So much has changed already, and I don’t know if I’m ready for more.”
“Don’t forget that change can be good.” He buried his face in her hair and breathed in. “For starters, knowing will change how much we get to see each other, and it’ll change what name I put on the flowers I’m going to give to you on our first date. But it won’t change how I feel about you because we’re still the same people underneath the masks.”
“Yeah, we are.” The fear gripping her heart ebbed away as rosy visions of a life with her partner formed in her mind. “That’s what Tikki says to me all the time.”
“And she’s right. I’ll always be your partner who’s madly in love with you, and you will always be my brave and beautiful lady.”
“It would be nice to see what color your eyes really are.”
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Fun fact...they’re still green.”
His breath tickled her skin, melting away any remaining trepidation and replacing it with an overwhelming need for more. She wanted that first date. She wanted to hear him say her name. She wanted to feel the touch of his hand on hers without the barrier of their suits.
With a renewed vigor, she made her decision. “Alright, I’m actually ready this time.”
He peppered her face with kisses, sending her into a fit of giggles. “Thank you, my lady. Thank you!”
“Well, someone’s excited!”
“I have been waiting three years for this moment. Of course, I’m excited! No, I’m beyond excited! I’m paws-sitively o-fur-joyed!”
“Okay, now I’m starting to rethink my decision.”
“Oh, you know you love my puns.”
Marinette did her best to stifle a laugh. “Hmmmm, I’ll have to think about that.”
“My lady,” he whined, “I thought we were having a moment!”
“Hey, you were the one who brought puns into the conversation.”
“I only pun when I’m comfortable, and I usually don’t feel comfortable enough to make jokes like that around most people in my civilian life. But I feel completely at ease with you, so think of me showing you my sense of humor outside of the suit as a compliment.”
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing that I love you.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “Puns and all.”
He pressed his forehead against hers. “How about we both look on the count of three?”
“Sounds purr-fect.”
“My silly kitty.” Shifting her position on the couch, Marinette pulled Chat into a sitting position and held his hands. “Ready? One.”
He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “Two.”
“Thr...wait!” Marinette moved forward until her knee was touching his leg. “Before we open our eyes, could you do something for me?”
One of his hands moved to cup her cheek. “Anything.”
“Kiss me.” She leaned in further as his hand buried itself in her hair. “Kiss me like you kissed me last night.”
His lips crashed onto hers as his fingers pressed against the back of her head, erasing the space between them. Her hands eventually landed on his back and gripped his soft cotton t-shirt. The kiss transcended words, for she could feel his ceaseless declaration of love grow stronger with each passing second.
“Girl, I can totally see where you get your clumsiness from! Your dad just spilled an entire…OHMYGOD, YOU’RE KISSING ADRIEN!” Marinette opened her eyes and whipped her head towards the voice that had entered the room.
She shrieked and launched herself off of the couch, landing on the floor with a thud. Her heart pounded against her chest as she tried to catch her breath. As her vision became acclimated to the light, she scanned her surroundings only to find an equally stunned-looking Adrien Agreste holding his hand over his lips, curled up against the corner of the couch.
“Marinette.” The reverence in which he spoke her name almost made her forget that they were no longer alone. “Of course.”
“I heard screams. What happened?” A somewhat frazzled Nino burst into the room, hopped in front of his girlfriend, and assumed a battle-ready stance. “Is there an Akuma?”
Alya whipped out her phone. “No Akuma, but it seems as though our best friends have been holding out on us.”
Nino dropped his arms to his side and looked back at Alya. “So, no one’s hurt?”
“Marinette just flew off the couch, so she might be. But I think she’ll be just fine.” Alya smirked and turned towards Adrien. “Right, sunshine?”
“I...uh…” Adrien visibly swallowed. “What?”
“Are you going to let your girlfriend just sit on the floor like that?” Alya pointed at Marinette.
Nino held up a hand. “I’m sorry, did you just say girlfriend?”
“Yup. I came in to tell our Sleeping Beauties that breakfast was ready, and what do I find? These two making out.” Alya chuckled. “And let me just say, it’s about time.”
“Bro, why didn’t you tell me?” Nino slung his arm around Alya. “We should totally go on a double date sometime. Just think about how much fun we would have!”
Pressure began to build against her eardrums as she slowly began to process the events that had transpired over the last few minutes. The ever-growing ringing in her ears made it hard for her to concentrate on anything outside of her own thoughts. As her mind wandered, she entered her own private bubble, quieting the voices around her and allowing every hidden truth to make itself known.
She was in her house.
She’d been in her living room all night.
She’d just kissed Adrien Agreste.
And Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir.
“...and then Marinette yeeted herself off of the couch.” Alya’s voice slowly drifted back into focus. “And from the way she’s staring off into space right now, I’m guessing she might actually be hurt. Girl, are you okay? ”
Marinette shook herself away from her racing thoughts in time to see a wave of panic wash over Adrien’s features. “Are you hurt?”
Her body still felt somewhat numb from the shock, but a dull ache in her lower back was beginning to pulsate. “Only a little.”
Within seconds, Adrien was on the floor next to her, holding her in his arms. “Could you guys tell Marinette’s parents that we’ll be there in a few minutes? We just need a moment.”
Alya held up her phone and snapped a picture. “Oh, come on! This moment is too adorable to not capture. You won’t even know we’re here.”
“No, we need a few minutes alone this time.” Marinette could hear the exasperation simmering beneath the surface of his words.
“Aww, but you two are just so cute.”
“Alya, please...”
“Okay, fine! You two deserve your alone time, but I expect some details later.” Alya winked at Marinette, grabbed Nino’s wrist, and dragged him out of the room. “Come on, babe. Let’s see if Mr. Dupain still needs help cleaning up all that orange juice and flour.”
“Thank you!” Adrien called after her.
When they were alone once again, the room grew quiet. Adrien scooped Marinette into his lap and held her against his chest. She slowly felt the shock from the reveal begin to wane, and she found herself snuggling against him.
Her heart pounded against her chest, each thump another confirmation that the boy who held her in his arms was her true love, regardless of whether she called him Adrien or Chat. Of course, she’d fallen in love with him twice. Of course, he was her partner. There was no one else it could have been.
The more she thought about it, Chat’s identity was something she’d known in her heart all along. Her mind had pushed the idea away so many times, creating a wall between them, but now, there were no more secrets or barriers.
Her kitty had been right. Danger would follow them wherever they went, but as long as they had each other, they would be unstoppable against any force that threatened to tear them apart.
With him, she could be at peace.
“This definitely changes how I feel about you.” He declared, making her suddenly doubt every resolution her mind had just made.
“O-oh?” Her voice was shaky.
“I once said that I would love whoever was behind the mask, but I was wrong. I’ve had my suspicions of who Ladybug might be over the past few years, and I was only truly happy when I thought she was you.” Adrien kissed her temple, dissolving any hint of worry or doubt in her mind. “I always knew you were more than just a friend to me, but I was too scared to admit the truth.”
“The truth?” She met his gaze, finding nothing but adoration in his eyes.
His hair brushed against her cheek as he whispered into her ear. “That I am hopelessly in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I just fell in love with her even more.”
All the air rushed from her lungs, leaving her breathless. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she clung to Adrien’s shirt and buried her face against his chest. For the first time in years, she felt complete.
Adrien released her from his embrace and leaned back, seemingly unsure of what to do with his hands. “My lady, are you alright? What’s wrong? Is it something I said?”
Marinette shook her head, looped her arms around his neck, and pulled him close. “No, please don’t go away! I liked the hug.”
Adrien returned the gesture and began rubbing soothing circles on her back. “It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“Good.”
“Does this mean I didn’t do anything wrong?”
“Oh, kitty, no.” Marinette used the back of her hand to wipe the wetness off of her cheeks. “I’m just so happy.”
He leaned her forehead against hers. “That’s a lot of happy tears, Bugaboo. Are you sure everything is okay?”
“There’s just a lot of emotions to process right now, and I’m a little overwhelmed. I can’t believe that we’ve been in love with each other this whole time, and we never even knew.” She released a watery laugh. “We've been dancing around each other for years!”
“Okay, now I’m confused. You didn’t kiss me until yesterday, and you always told me that you were in love with someone else.”
She tightened her embrace. “Oh, my wonderful, kitty. Three years ago, I fell in love with a kind boy who gave me an umbrella after clearing up a misunderstanding. And then I slowly fell in love with him all over again, even though I called him by a different name.”
Adrien’s stunned expression made her giggle. “So, that means the other boy was…”
“You.”
“...me.”
“It was always you, Adrien. You have my whole heart.”
“My lady, can I kiss you again?” His breath ghosted her lips as his face inched closer to hers.
She could barely contain her smile. “You can kiss me whenever you want.”
This kiss was soft and gentle, for behind it was the promise of countless more just like it.
Another crash came from the kitchen followed by groans and laughs, prompting Marinette to pull away from Adrien. “I should probably go see if my parents need help.”
“Yeah.” Adrien chuckled. “At least we can spend time with each other a little later.”
“But you have to leave by ten for a photoshoot, and didn’t you say that your dad was expecting you to practice the piano when you got home?”
“Well, Adrien has to do all that stuff, but Chat is available to meet up with a certain Princess around say...seven o’clock? Purr-haps he’ll bring ice cream if that’s something the lady wants.”
Marinette leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. “It’s a date.”
Maybe early mornings weren’t out to get her, after all. Maybe the sun wasn’t really her enemy. And maybe this was the start of something wonderful.
Now that her eyes were open, she never wanted to close them again.
As she made her way out of the room, Marinette took Adrien’s hand and laced her fingers through his. He gave her hand a squeeze, sending a flurry of butterflies coursing through her body.
Yeah, she could definitely get used to days like this.
#miraculous ladybug#my fic#lovesquare fluff bingo#seat buddies#identity reveal#Open Your Eyes#One-Shot#Ladynoir#Adrienette#Fluff#tooth rotting fluff#adrien agreste#marinette dupain cheng
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manipulating a god | chpt.six
Synopsis: Trying to break the information out of Loki during the attack of 2012 wasn’t exactly the easiest task, but it was a challenge you were willing to take head on. So, what happened when a master manipulator tried to get information from the God of Mischief?
Series warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence, blood, and gore
Pairings: Stark!Reader x Loki
A/N: I AM FINALLY UNSHADOWBANNED!!!!!! OH MY GOODNESSS. I have been shadowbanned since MARCH.MARRRCCHHH. it’s a good day. (also yes i reuploaded this now that i am no longer invisible.) MY INBOX IS OPEN ONCE MORE AS WELL. (gif not mine)
series masterlist
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Loki’s piercing gaze never left yours as you tried to think of the proper questions to ask him that wouldn’t obviously show how much you knew about him. Loki wasn’t dumb, he knows damn well why you’re doing this, but if you played my cards right you could throw him off enough to glimpse through and get some information. After all, that’s all you really wanted from him. The topic of the Infinity Stones has to be brought up by him.
You could ask about his childhood, or about his favourite food, or even about which character from Harry Potter he liked best. (We all know it’s Draco because Loki’s a Slytherin.)
“Alright,” you crossed your arms and met his stare, trying to match his intensity, “Favourite colour?”
Loki scoffed, “Awfully basic question to start off with. Green.”
“Hard to tell,” you mumbled, eyeing every bit of green clothing on his body, “Your turn.”
He thought deeply, eyes wandering around the room as if the perfect question was hidden around here somewhere. You had become slightly nervous, Loki seemed like the kind of person to intentionally rip you apart from the inside out, so his questions were bound to hold weight. And after you put him in his place and stormed off last time, no doubt he held a bit of hostility towards you.
“I’ve got it,” he spoke up after a few long moments of silence, “What’s your biggest psychological fear?”
You felt your face drop, thinking about all the irrational fears in your mind. You knew the answer to this immediately — it was something you worried about dealing with on a daily basis. There was no harm in answering the truth, so you answered him honestly.
“Having to watch someone I care about die and not being able to do anything about it.”
Loki smirked, nodding in approval of your answer despite the change of tone in your voice, “Fair.”
You thought back to the countless occasions where you’d been forced to watch Tony suffer and bleed out without being able to help. It crushed your heart into tiny pieces, but in the long run, it was what made you so determined to be a part of the Avengers. With this job, you were able to help as many people as possible. It was going to change your life, you were nearly certain of this.
“My turn,” you spoke up, “What’s the best childhood memory you have?”
Loki’s smirk faltered and his playful expression shifted, “Good childhood memory? I’m afraid that doesn’t exist.”
Bingo.
You eaned forward in you chair with furrowed eyebrows, “I call your bluff. Everyone’s gotta have a good memory from their childhood, no matter how messed up it was. Didn’t you ever go to like, Asgard Disneyland or something?” You knew you were striking a nerve with the way his upper lip twitched, his gaze suddenly growing distant.
“My childhood is really none of your concern. And it wasn’t enjoyable in the slightest, so drop it.” If it wasn’t for the deadly look he was shooting your way, you would have pressed the subject more.
You nodded your head slowly and raised your hands in surrender, deciding to take the high road and be gentle, “Alright, my bad. I’ll ask a different question. What’s something that’s on your bucket list that you haven’t done yet?”
"That... wasn’t a question I was expecting. I’m over a thousand years old, I’ve done a lot,” he looked down to his hands, “But... world domination, obviously.”
You rolled your eyes, “That doesn’t count. Something meaningful, Loki.”
He seemed deep in thought, looking back and forth between his left and right hand as if the answers were scribbled deep into his skin. He squinted slightly before looking back at you, a sudden amused glint in his eyes.
“I’d like to see the universe, I guess,” he shrugged, eyes leaving yours and peering around the room, “I at least have the chance to see more than you do.”
“Of course,” you rolled your eyes, “We’re not all godly galactic beings, y’know.”
As he opened his mouth to speak, a loud crash came from outside the door to the room. You stood up, already on high alert, completely forgetting that you were in a room with the bad guy. You raised your finger to your lips, shushing Loki. Why you did it, you have no idea. But you figured if you were going to crack him, might as well show him you’re trying to protect him too.
With ragged breathing, you stood behind the wall, hand on the gun you had hidden in your waistband. Touching the gun still felt foreign to you, but you brushed the uneasiness aside and tried to contact someone.
“Fury, what was that?” you pressed the communications button on the screen in front of you, “Everything alright?”
As if on cue, the door whisked open and Tony stood tall, hands behind his back and a scowl on his face. He looked from Loki to you, his intense gaze softening a tad.
“What the hell was that?” you breathed a sigh of relief, glad that there was no enemy barging in. The last thing you wanted to deal with was a fight. You had had enough of those for a lifetime.
“I dropped my coffee,” Tony turned around and pointed at the ground, where indeed, a broken mug was scattered, the dark coffee beginning to spread across the floor.
“You — what? The crash was so loud!” you put your gun back in your waistband, baffled, “Why are you being so ominous? What’s wrong?” Something about the spilled coffee and the way he was standing seemed odd, even you couldn’t figure out what he was getting at.
“I need to talk to you,” he placed his hand on your shoulder and began leading you out of the room, “Privately.”
“It was a lovely chat, Y/N,” Loki’s voice called to you as you exited the room, “Until next time.”
You turned back to look at him, catching his eyes as the door slammed shut. Tony placed his hand on your shoulder and pushed you up against the wall, leaning in close so no one could hear.
“Fury’s gonna use the sceptre to make weapons,” he said quietly, pulling away to gauge your reaction. You stared blankly at him, thinking over what he could mean.
“Like, our Fury? Using the Tesseract?” you asked, “No way. He’s not that advanced.”
Tony hushed you once a group of Shield agents rounded the corner, but as they moved out of sight, he moved you futher along the corridor, “I hacked into their files.”
“You what?”
Slightly outraged, you raised your voice, only to be silenced by the clamping of Tony’s hand over your mouth, “Shut up. It’s not that big of a deal. I hack into loads of stuff.”
You gaped at him, eyes blinking rapidly as you took in his words, “That doesn’t make it okay. But, why would Fury use the Tesseract? Doesn’t it practically have a mind of its own?”
Tony nodded apprehensively, “We think so. Which is why I think we need to confront him.”
You waved your hands rapidly, “Oh, hell no. I am not getting involved in this.”
Fury was someone you had admired — and feared, of course — but he was always someone you knew not to mess with. He had his secrets, he had his lies, and he knew how to mess with someone’s mind more than anyone you had ever met up until this mission. You were sure that if he had decided to use the Tesseract, he probably would have told you guys. And if he didn’t, there was a reasonable reason.
“Too late, you got involved when you guilt tripped me into joining the mission,” Tony shrugged, giving you a sarcastic grin, “So, come along now.”
Before you could turn away, he gripped your shoulder and brought you along with him. He manuevered you through the endless corridors, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. You had never been to his and Banner’s lab, but you figured that was probably where he was taking you.
And you stood corrected.
Standing awkwardly in the center of the lab, surrounded by heavy machinery and flickering computers, Bruce Banner sent you a small wave.
“Y/N,” he greeted, “I guess Tony explained everything to you, huh?”
You nodded, massaging your shoulder gently now that Tony’s aggressive grip was gone, “Yeah, and I gotta say, still sounds like a far fetched theory, guys.”
Bruce sighed, “I thought so too. But look here.”
He pointed to a computer screen on his right, so you slowly approached, eyes widening as you took in what was on the screen. It was a blueprint for a weapon, a massive gun that had the power to take down whatever was in its path. And right at the centre, glowing bright blue, was unmistakably the Tesseract.
“No fucking way,” you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. So it was true. Fury was going to use the intergalactic power of an other-worldly object to power his own Shield weapons.
“Told ya,” Tony smirked, leaning against the counter behind him and taking a pack of dried fruits out of his back pocket, “Now do you agree we need to talk to him?”
“Fine,” you gave in, lifting your hand to rub between your brow. All of the information was beginning to give you a headache.
You snatched the dried fruit bag from Tony and grabbed a handful, your stomach suddenly feeling quite empty. You hadn’t expected Fury to keep such a dangerous secret from you all — after all, it seemed like you were all on the same page. Get rid of the Tesseract and Loki.
“Look, I’ll go find out where the Tesseract is, and we’ll confront Fury, okay?” you looked between the two, “Promise me you won’t go piss him off before we have the proper information.”
The two begrudgingly agreed, so you decided it was a good enough answer for you. Grabbing another handful of food, you turned to face them, giving them the ‘I’m watching you’ stare and leaving the room.
You continued your way back down the familiar hallways, turning left and then right, stopping once again in front of the door that was hiding Loki. He was probably the only person that knew where the Tesseract was, which only made this so much more important.
Taking a deep breath, you pressed your finger print on the scanner and entered the room again. Although, you weren’t met with the same playful Loki that you had been playing twenty questions with before. He looked enraged, pacing around the cell with his arms crossed.
His eyes snapped up to you once you entered the room, door shutting loudly behind you, “I’m back.”
“I’ve noticed,” he approached the glass, the anger still etched into his pale face, “What do you want now?”
“Oh, snappy,” you raised an eyebrow, wondering why the change in his tone, “I’ve been gone not ten minutes. Why the change in tone?”
“I thought maybe I could see you as a friend,” he spoke slowly, continuing to pace in circles around the cell, “But what is it you want?”
“Who says I want anything?” you crossed your arms, seating yourself on the same chair you were using before, “I’m only a part of this to save my brother, make a name for myself. Help people the way I know best.”
“You think you can do anything? You petty, puny human? What gift do you have?” he motioned his hands at you, “You sit here thinking you can get to me, but you can’t. You think I don’t recognize mind games when they’re aimed at me?”
Still unsure why he was being so snappy, you raised your eyebrow and tilted your head, “If I don’t have a gift, why do you assume I’m playing mind games?”
“You’re pathetic,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard you, “Coming here and speaking to me like we’re equals. Like you’re better than me. You’re not. You’re a sad excuse for a life, you’ve got what’s coming to you. Thinking you can... what? Save your brother? You can’t save him. You can’t even save yourself. You won’t be spared because you know my favorite colour.”
The atmosphere in the room had changed drastically, and if it weren’t for the violent thumping of your heart, you’d think this wasn’t real. But it was. He was real. He was speaking to you, belittling you in every way you had ever been insecure.
You stared blankly, registering his words and the bitter taste they left in your mouth. Had they been his plan? To hurt you? If it was, you didn’t want to let him win, to give in, but it was hard to act like you weren’t affected.
“You’re a monster,” you blinked, trying to brush off the sting in your eyes and the itchy feeling in your throat. If you were to be emotional in front of him, he’d win fair and square.
“No, no,” he smirked, “You guys brought the monster.”
At first, you figured he was talking about himself. How you guys had brought him here, caged him, and riled him up to the point where he would unleash his fury on all of you. But as you stared into his smirk and the mischievous glint in his eyes, you knew you were wrong.
He was talking about another monster. And what monster could he use to his advantage while being away from his alien crew?
Banner.
“So,” you stood up quickly, emotions gone as the realization flooded over you, “Banner. That’s your play.”
He cocked his head to the side, a confused expression taking over his face, “What?”
You approached the glass, fed up and beyond angry, “Well, thanks for opening up. It was greatly appreciated. This was a very informative little session. I’ll see you next time!”
You rushed to the door, ignoring the way he called out your name, and left the room hastily. Your head was swimming, body feeling suddenly very numb. There was no way this was going to end well. If Loki managed to get into Banner’s head, the Hulk would cause incredible damage. Not only on the ship, but to the people aboard.
You had to go find Bruce.
Taglist
(message me or comment if you want to be added/removed. If you are in bold it is because I am unable to tag you.)
@dapperappleton @what-a-fantasy @the-girl-of-many-fandoms1414 @brighteyedmichelle @leasly @cassiopeia-barrow @jay-the-mothafuckin-gay @themusingsofmany @bambamwolf87 @thefandomzoneisdangerous @cyberskeletonhandsbat @ultracarpediemfan @vgirl-10123 @bangvateez @leximills666 @littleredstarfish @blue-spider-official @benji-booxx @gorgeousgodzilla @what-a-fantasy @hello-lemons @yandereforyou @godhateskyleigh @cutie1365 @mochminnie @sleighmylife @boom-bunny @crazymclazy @xvixie13x
#loki imagine#loki#loki imagines#loki fanfic#loki fanfics#loki one shot#loki one shots#loki x reader#loki reader insert#marvel fanfics#marvel fanfic#avengers fanfic#avengers fanfics#avengers masterlist#marvel masterlist
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1, 2, 3, 4 (for the 40 questions thing 😅)
1. Describe your comfort zone- a typical you fic.
Uhm. I mean, a comfort zone is just some super cute one shot fluff, happy ending happiness. Series wise: my typical fics include a bit of all three genres, there’s almost always a combo of angst/fluff or fluff/angst. Sometimes all three, but sometimes fics don’t really have that *vibe* that calls for smut so it’s just mentioned, or never brought up. Usually I’m gonna throw in a FUCK TON of tooth rotting fluff the chapter or two before the angst/drama begins to just ....ya know....make it sting more....because i am evil lol
2.is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?
Hmm....AU is kinda the one I’m SLOWLY branching into with The Calhoun Girl’s Collection, cause it takes place at Harvard instead of in NYC/within the SVU universe, but still involves characters from the show. I might continue to try my hand at a couple of other ones, but I’m not big into writing fantasy, so those kind of au’s are not ideal for me. Also still brand new to writing ships and figuring that out lol!
3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?
Non-con/dub con, dark fics kinda thing. I’m okay killing off a character, like extreme angst is fine, but the non con type of dark fics are not my style. Also suuuper big age gaps are a no go for me.
4. How many fics are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?
Oh LORDY
11 one shots are in the queue, 2 series have a chapter or two of them written already. And I’ve got another 13 ideas for the bingo. No idea how many req’s are in the inbox right now lol. Here’s the last line of SSS ch 2:
Digging around in a filing cabinet she tugged out your jacket, thinking maybe it could help her get a better read on you, but as soon as she’d taken a seat at her desk, Amanda was popping into the door, something more important already thrown on her plate.
Thanks bebe!! 💜 💜
Fanfic asks!!!
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“Lost their voice from screaming” + seiricha?
Here you are, dear nonnie! I hope you enjoy it!
(sparkles are completed prompts, stars are requests in my inbox)
Feel free to send in a request! Help me get a bingo! (or request whatever floats your boat :3)
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Case Files of Jeweler Richard
Rating: General
Warnings: Mentioned Blood, Nightmares
Relationships: Richard Ranashina de Vulpian/Nakata Seigi
Characters: Richard Ranashina de Vulpian, Nakata Seigi
Summary: Seigi sees blood and feels the darkness creeping in as he realizes everyone he loves sees him for what he truly is: a monster.
He didn’t expect disgust to hurt so bad when it was on that pretty face.
Ao3 Link: here!
@badthingshappenbingo
Seigi didn’t know exactly what was happening. His mind was dark, the only light for him from the moon and the sparsely placed streetlamps, all of which seemed nearly burnt out. He stumbled aimlessly, staggering along the sidewalk with no wall to brace himself on. On his left side, there was a road, and on his right, some park or empty lot. Still, the looming buildings surrounded him like an urban cage, forcing him to live with what he’s done. The streetlights from the city flashed against the siding, looking less like glitter and more like a thousand evil eyes watching him, holding him in contempt. But what did he do?
His thoughts were too muddled, his head too heavy. Nothing was making much sense to him other than brief, fleeting ideas. As he tried to make sense of what he was thinking, every thought seemed to disintegrate into nonsense the moment he was close enough to see it. Images flashed in his mind: the confrontation with his dad from all that time ago, the shock and disappointment on Hiromi and her husband’s face. Seigi wondered if he was there to see that, or if it was merely what he knew was their reaction but could only guess.
The image of Richard slowly took over, the wide-eyed disbelief he held when Seigi told him - for real this time - that he was leaving the Etranger. Richard had tried to convince him not to, tried to figure out what he was thinking and help him like he did last time, but Seigi had his mind made. Seigi left Richard that day staring after him, his grandmother’s ring in his own pocket as he fought back the mysterious tears that threatened to spill.
His only consolation at the time was that maybe, just maybe, Richard would leave and Seigi’s place in his mind would be archived as it was. Seigi didn’t want Richard to think of him as a monster - the very thought sent him tumbling down as he fell to his knees beneath one of those dim lights. His chest was tight, his cheeks were wet, and his skin felt warm and sticky in spots around his arms, neck and hands. Opening his eyes, he saw red staining the ground beneath his hands, dark and stubborn. His hands shook as he brought them up, turning them to see his palms covered in the same red. A guttural scream echoed around him, yet Seigi wasn’t sure if it was his own horror or a terrified shout at seeing a bloody man slumped over on the ground.
The too-familiar darkness crept back as it had before, the violence and the hatred Seigi never wanted anyone to see wrapping around him as it prepared to pull him down. There was no energy left in him to fight - and as he sank deeper into his despair, he saw Richard, and he saw that he had chased out any hint of affection his now disgusted expression once held.
-----
Seigi woke to his chest heaving and his throat aching, his mouth opened in a silent scream. As he relaxed and got his bearings, chest heaving, Seigi rubbed at his throat and looked around. He was in Richard’s room, and out in the kitchen he could hear the faucet running and the clink of a glass. Seigi’s legs felt like jelly, and his entire body was shaking - yet when he tried to call out to Richard, nothing came out but a hoarse whisper.
Richard did come in, though, offering Seigi a glass of water and sitting on the edge of the bed without a word. Cautiously, Seigi watched Richard over the rim of his glass, noting how he scratched at his scalp and messed with his hair a bit but seemed otherwise unbothered. There wasn’t a hint of disgust on his face like Seigi thought there might be, but he still gulped down his water without a word, hoping Richard’s composure wouldn’t drop when his own eyes were closed.
“Are you alright?” Richard asked, taking the glass with one hand and placing a feather-light touch to Seigi’s hairline as he stroked down. Seigi wanted to nod and tell Richard he was alright, that he should go back to bed: but he shook his head instead and leaned into Richard’s palm as he felt it rest on his cheek.
Richard hummed, stroking Seigi’s face with his thumb a few times before breaking the silence again. “Would you like some tea? They say it may help with your throat.”
Seigi opened his eyes then, cocking an eyebrow as he tried to run through the day’s events. He vaguely remembered going to the doctor, and Richard fussing over him and demanding him to drink more water or tea or something. He remembered zoning out because Richard really did look beautiful when he was angry, and he remembered zoning out again because the concern in Richard’s voice when he scolded him for stressing himself out enough to get sick was too much for him to handle.
Now, the attention felt nice, and Seigi didn’t want to back away from it. After a night of terror like that, he appreciated the quiet affection he was getting. Richard seemed to know when to back off with the life lessons and old adages and just sit with him - although Seigi imagined Richard also wasn’t keen on lecturing someone who couldn’t talk back to him. Seigi wanted to hold Richard’s hand to his face and stay there for hours, reminding himself that he wasn’t the monster he sometimes thought himself to be - but his throat was aching, and tea sounded nice, so he nodded and croaked out a hoarse, “Please.”
Richard nodded back, leaning to press a gentle kiss to Seigi’s forehead. Seigi worried for a second if his fear sweat had dried and almost backed away, but Richard kept him in place and didn’t seem to notice. Before completely backing away, he murmured, “You know, I think the fact that you seem so scared of the prospect of monstrosity only proves you’re anything but.”
He left Seigi sitting in disbelief, still unused to how perceptive he could be. Richard seemed to know how to keep Seigi occupied, giving him tidbits to mull over so he couldn’t overthink himself into a corner while he wasn’t around, and for that, Seigi was thankful. The dread of moments ago didn’t have a chance to settle in, and when Richard returned with his tea, it wasn’t the drink that made him feel so comfortably warm inside.
#badthingshappenbingo#Lost Their Voice from Screaming#housekishou richard-shi no nazo kantei#the case files of jeweler richard#jeweler richard#seiricha#seigi#nakata seigi#richard ranashina de vulpian#richard#my stuff#my stuff jeweler richard#my stuff seiricha#bad things happen bingo#dear nonnie#asks
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Yesterday I Was Clever, Today I Am Wise
Summary: Bogged down by the memories of people hurt and cases unsolved, Spencer turns to dilaudid for a second time, leaving his wife distraught and with no other options than to offer an ultimatum - kick the drugs or lose her. Will he continue his downward spiral and lose it all?
Words: 2,199
Warnings: Drug addiction and withdrawals, marriage problems, suicidal ideations.
A/N: My next entry for @cmbingo! This fulfills my reassignment square. This is a follow-up to How Did We End Up Here? It was one of my very first pieces and I never intended to do a sequel to it, but once @alisoncdariel went all hyper in my inbox and asked if I’d do a sequel, I checked my Bingo card and I thought this could really work! I hope you enjoy! <3
For weeks after Y/N walked out of the BAU, Spencer floated around the BAU, inhabiting it like a ghost - papers moved, the clacking of keyboard keys could be heard, reports were submitted and cases continued to get solved - but he wasn’t present, not really.
Everyone knew. If it had gone under the radar at all the first time around, it hadn’t now.
“Reid, can I see you in my office?” Hotch called, his head poking out from his office.
Spencer glanced up and nodded silently, placing his pen back into the cup that held it before going to see what his boss needed. When he walked in the room, he saw the entire team, minus Rossi, standing there and turned to walk out, but Morgan slammed the door before he could leave, glaring at him to shut up and listen. “We know, kid. We all know.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t bullshit me,” Morgan snapped. His heart broke for his little brother, but it had to be done. “You’re not the only smart one here.”
Reluctantly, Spencer sat in the chair in front of Hotch’s desk and listened as they all cried. “You need help, Spence,” JJ said, sniffling. “You can’t keep going like this.”
“I’m fine. I can still do my job. I function.”
Hotch glared so hard Spencer could practically feel the holes being bored into his skull. “Barely. This isn’t an intervention, Reid. It’s an ultimatum.”
That caught his attention. “What are you talking about?”
“Either get help and get off the drugs or lose your job. We will be for you every step of the way if you need us and want our help, but I cannot let this go on. I failed you once before. Not again.”
Vibrating with anger, Spencer stood up and felt the pull again, wanting nothing more than to bolt toward the door, drive home and shoot up until he couldn’t feel anymore. “So my wife leaves me, I have nothing and you threaten to take away the one thing that helps me live? Breathe? Forget all the bullshit we see? Fuck you all.”
He turned to leave and was stopped in his tracks when Hotch told him where Rossi was. “He’s in your apartment right now searching every nook and cranny of your apartment with other members of the Bureau that have been sworn to secrecy as a favor to me. There will be nothing there when you get back and whether you want our help or not one of us will be keeping you under surveillance at all times over the next couple of weeks.”
Spencer didn’t reply. He barely moved a muscle before looking toward Morgan, who still stood in front of the door. “Move.”
Grabbing his messenger bag on the way out of the office, Spencer sped into the elevator without another word. Maybe if he was lucky withdrawal symptoms would take him in the middle of the night.
------
Walking out on Spencer had been the hardest thing you’d ever done, but something needed to change and he needed to be the one to change it; you couldn’t do it for him.
Some days you could go to and from work like any other day, acting as though you weren’t missing the love of your life with every fiber of your being, but other days the pain became unbearable. You should’ve come home and gotten a head start on the next day’s work, but instead you cried yourself to sleep, waking up hours later to the vibrating of your cellphone underneath your pillow.
“Hello?” You asked, voice croaking.
You hadn’t even opened your eyes to see who was calling and then you heard his voice - raw and wounded. “Y/N? Please, I-”
“Spence, I can’t,” you replied, heart sinking into your chest like a black hole. “Things can’t go on like this. I have to go, I-”
“Please!?” He begged into the phone. “I’m not asking you to come back to me. Not yet anyway. I’m-” His voice cut off and you heard him stifle a grunt of pain. “The team raided my apartment. They took everything I had and it’s been 26 hours. The pain is-” Each word he spoke wavered more and more, pain overtaking his body until you heard him collapse to the floor of the home you’d once shared. “I just need to see you...until the pain subsides. Please...I know what I’ve put you through and that I don’t deserve this, but I need you.”
“I won’t bring you drugs.”
“I’m not asking you too. Just, please.” Maybe this was the kick in the ass he’d needed. But you weren’t going to get too hopeful just yet.
“I’ll be right there.”
Morgan had been sitting in his car watching Spencer’s apartment to make sure he didn’t try and go out to buy any replacement drugs. With a silent thank you, you rushed up the stairs and opened the door to see your apartment destroyed. Somehow, his drugs had gone missing. Once this was over you’d ask him what happened, but he’d come home to look for his secret stashes and found nothing.
You found him in the bathtub fully clothed under ice cold water. “Spence...”
Crouching down, you pressed a hand to the side of his face and he opened his eyes. “Y/N...thank you.”
There wasn't much you could do for him. Apparently, he’d been using again for a while at an even higher dose than he’d used before. The drugs had to work their way out of his system.
You called into work and took off claiming a family emergency. For the next six days, you cleaned his sweat-soaked laundry, prepared cold compresses, cooked whatever food he could eat and held him as the shakes took over.
When he could speak without searing pain, he attempted to apologize, to beg you to come back, but it wasn’t that easy. He’d kicked the drugs for the second time and that was a start, but they weren’t the main problem. “It’s what lead you to take the drugs, Spence. Our lack of communication. The pain you see firsthand every day. Your inability to let me be my own person and make my own choices to bear those burdens with you. I’m not saying our marriage isn’t able to be saved. I still love you to the moon and back, but our relationship needs more than just a bandaid.”
Solemnly, he nodded, fresh tears falling from his lashes like stars in the sky. “I understand. But-but we can still try, right? As long as I’m willing to put in the work?”
“Absolutely. I’m willing if you are.”
------
In the ensuing weeks, Spencer had to earn back Y/N’s trust little by little. As much as he hated to admit that the drugs had wormed their way back into his life for a second time, they had, and they weren’t responsible for his downward spiral - at least not wholly.
Day after day, he went to NA meetings, vowing to go to at least one a week for the rest of his life no matter how clean he felt. It was a promise to no one but himself. With each passing day, he got stronger and stronger, feeling mentally and physically better than he had in years.
“How are you feeling today?” Y/N asked, pressing a kiss to his lips as he walked in the door. They still weren’t living together again yet. They’d been apart for three months, but they talked or visited at least once a day and things finally felt like they were on the upswing again. “Better and better. Therapy is helping too.”
“I knew it would,” she whispered, blissfully resting her head against his chest. “We can start going as a couple too if that helps.”
Hesitating, Spencer kissed the top of her head. “Possibly yeah. I actually wanted to discuss what we’ve been talking about for the past few weeks.”
“Okay...” she said with a hint of uncertainty. “You sure?”
“Yes. Um, I told him that I didn’t want to burden you with what I see every day because it’s so personal and up close, and he understood that. With what we see every day, to pass that onto someone else almost feels negligent-”
“Spence, you have to-”
“Let me finish,” he pleaded. “I realize that I need to talk about these things with you and going forward, when things come back to me and I feel like I can’t handle them I’ll do that, but that doesn’t mean I need continue doing what I do.”
Eyes widening, Y/N leaned back against the kitchen counter. “You want to quit the BAU?”
“I don’t want to. I love making a different and I love the people I work with, but I can’t do it anymore and I think it’s okay for me to admit that. I was actually talking with him about reassignment within the Bureau - something that still made me feel like I’m helping people without being so ‘on the front lines’ so to speak. Maybe counterintelligence or counter terrorism, utilizing my profiling to go over reports and decipher where and when and how attacks might take place. It would be less fieldwork, which means I’d be further removed from the horror of it all, you know? Plus I’d be home more. We could start the family we always wanted and if I really wanted to I could consult for the BAU on occasion.”
It all made sense and she loved the idea of him being home. Before his downward spiral, they’d dreamt of starting a family, but she had to make sure. “You’ve been doing this for so long. It’s been a part of who you are. If you stop, do you think you could come to resent me? Like I made you choose between me and the BAU?”
“You didn’t. You aren’t. I love what I do, but I love you more. And my time at the BAU would still be an integral part of who I am. I’d just be allowing myself to grow, while taking care of myself and ensuring that I never leave you with the images running around in my head.”
With a subtle smile, Y/N tilted her head up and kissed Spencer’s chin. He sounded confident. He sounded like he knew what he wanted and how to get there. He was so much more comfortable in his own skin now. “If you think this is what’s best for you and our relationship, then I’m with you. I still think we should go to some couple’s therapy though. While you adjust to whatever new position you have?”
“That makes sense. I just know I need a change. Not because I don’t like what I do but because I need to take care of myself and it’s too much for me now. It reminds me of a quote for the 13th-century Persian poet, Rumi.”
Y/N giggled softly into his chest. In his downward spiral, he’d lost his love of info-dumping, which was one of the things she’d always loved about him. “What is it?”
“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.”
------
Shortly after they spoke about reassignment, Spencer went over his options with Hotch and the rest of the team, who were all totally on board with his decision so long as they got together once a week for dinner. “And you text me at least three times a week, Boy Wonder,” Penelope had added.
Counterterrorism was more than happy to take him on; his reputation preceded him. Analyzing reports had him doing a lot of what he had been doing with the BAU, just more removed from the field than his former work. There was a slightly different kind of pressure on him - the lives of thousands or millions on his mind rather than one - but it didn’t affect him as much as working with individuals had.
While he adjusted to his new position, he and Y/N attended therapy once a week to discuss old traumas he’d endured and how they could both handle it going forward.
Reassignment wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the right one.
“Hey, baby,” Y/N greeted as Spencer walked in the door just in time for dinner. With his new job, came a tighter schedule. He was home for dinner nearly every night. “How was work?”
“Still getting used to things, but my brain is still working and I’m still helping people, so I feel okay. I just have to get used to not working with my friends every day more than anything.”
“That’ll come with time,” she replied. “Maybe we can have them over for dinner next week as long as they don’t have a case?”
“I’d love that.” Spencer crossed the space between them and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and taking a moment to appreciate the smell of her shampoo and the softness of her skin. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not giving up on me, on us.”
#cmbingo19#cmbingo#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid imagine#dontshootmespence#how did we end up here#yesterday I was clever today I am wise
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(Fake Title) Bleach My Mind, Break My Heart
Ok, I’m trying to clean up the inbox, and I was sure all was left there were prompts, but I still have a couple of these so I’ll start from them.
I honestly have an entire fic outlined for this title without even knowing. But considering that I’ll never write it (esp because with all the bingos I entered I’ll focus on those for the foreseeable future), I’ll write it all there.
So, after the defeat of the Mad Titan, Stephen and Christine go back together. He realises what really matters in his life and anyway they had danced around since that day in the hospital when the Ancient One died (guys, I love Christine and that I don’t want you to go? She’s not going to leave Stephen alone, either as best friends or as a romantic interest). Turning into dust and back in flesh and blood makes you realize what’s really important. He had been a jerk, with her, but now he knows which mistakes he made in the past and doesn’t want to do them all over again. They start to date again and they are doing great, all while Stephen and Tony become closer and closer friends. (Tony and Pepper broke up shortly after Thanos’s death).
After some months, Stephen asks for Christine’s hand and she says yes (there are a lot of doubts because Stephen is Supreme Sorcerer, and he might be forced to put the world safety before Christine, but Wong gives his approbation). In the meanwhile, Tony fell in love with Stephen, and he’s heartbroken when Stephen tells him about the engagement. But he pretends to be happy for his friend because a part of him is.
The wedding date, Tony gets drunk and confess his feelings for Stephen during the wedding reception. Stephen doesn’t really know what to do: he’s in love with Christine, but he cares about Tony as well and he didn’t expect for this.
There’s also the super angst ending in which Tony leaves the reception and crashes with his car somewhere ‘cause is too drunk to drive, and dies in the crash. Stephen feels guilty as fuck about this and hates himself because he should have seen that coming but, at the same time, he knows that there’s nothing he could have done.
#palmerstrange#ironstrange#stephine#christine palmer x stephen strange#stephen strange x christine palmer#strangeiron#stephen strange x tony stark#tony stark x stephen strange#stephen strange#christine palmer#tony stark#doctor strange#iron man#marvel#mcu#anonymous#asks
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Hey! I really love your fics! Can you please do a starving/dehydrated fic where Keith and any combination of the other paladins (1 or 2 others I think) get trapped on a forested planet that has some crazy ozone that prevents signals from coming through. Keith sacrifices his limited rations for the others without their knowledge and when they finally get rescued he faints from hunger/exhaustion and it takes him a while to recover. They are like 'how dare you we were so worried'. Lots of emotion?
Apologies for taking approximately five thousand years to finally get around to writing this. But, hey, better late than never, right? I’ve had this request sitting in my inbox for ages and have dipped into it a bit here and there, waiting for the motivation to finally get it written out in full, and that motivation came when I saw that this worked perfectly for one of my Voltron Bingo prompts. So, hope you enjoy!
Within Walking DistanceCentral Characters: Keith, PidgeGenres: Friendship, Whump, Fluff & AngstWord Count: 10,063Written for the “Hunger” space for the @voltronbingo Hurt/Comfort cardRead on AO3
“I can’t believe it,” Pidge muttered to herself as shewalked alongside the Green Lion, grounded atop the crushed remains of the densegrove of trees where it had crashed, dark and lifeless as if its battery hadsimply been ripped out. “I cannot fucking believe it. ‘Ooh, Voltron, we’ve gotsuper special magical ores that you can use in weapons-building, why don’t youcome down here and get them!’ But do they bother mentioning that electricitystops working near enough to the surface? No, of course not, that would justmake things too easy on us!”
“Are we so sure that’s even what happened?” Keith asked. Hefelt awkward simply standing off to the side as Pidge did all the work ofassessing the damage on Green, but there wasn’t exactly much he could do to help;his knowledge of vehicles was fairly sizeable in regards to cars and bikes backon Earth, but giant magic robot lions were way beyond his pay grade. “Maybethere was something else that brought Green down, something that was wrong withher beforehand.”
“No, I’m sure of it. Spotted some weird readings starting topop up right before everything went kaput. It was picking up on something to dowith electromagnetic interaction in this atmosphere. Didn’t have time to gettoo close a look at the details before everything blacked out though. Besides,our suits are down too. Can’t be a coincidence.”
“Well, any chance of getting Green back up and running anytime soon?”
Pidge shook her head. “Not unless we can get her out of thisatmosphere, and that’s not exactly a viable option unless you wanna lift herwith our bare hands and toss her.”
Keith looked uncertainly toward the Green Lion. “So, what dowe do, wait for the others to finish their missions, notice we’re gone, andcome rescue us? Can’t exactly contact them with all our tech down.”
“Wouldn’t work either way,” Pidge said. “Allura and Shiroare gonna take another week or so on their mission, and we didn’t set atimeline for ours, so Hunk and Lance wouldn’t even know that there’s anythingwrong if we don’t contact them when they get back and tell them so. And if theydo catch on and stage a rescue, the moment they get low enough in theatmosphere, they’ll come crashing down too. Last thing we need is a dead lionpile-up out here.”
“All right then,” Keith said, crossing his arms as he cast afrustrated glance toward Green’s head, where the lights of her eyes wereexasperatingly dark. “What do you suggest instead?”
“Hm. We know that electricity and electrical signals aren’tblocked altogether; if they were, no missive from this planet would have beenable to reach Voltron in the first place.” Pidge paced back and forth in frontof Green as she thought out loud. “We managed to get fairly close to theplanet’s surface before Green went down, so maybe that’s it? Elevation? Sowherever they sent the missive must be kinda high up. If we could get to thepoint of origin of the signal we got from the castle ship, we should be able toget in contact with them again. Then I can let them know about the planet’satmosphere, and Hunk could get Yellow shielded against it, then come down toget us and Green. The question is, how do we get there?”
“How far is it to the signal’s point of origin?” Keithasked.
“Around eighty miles, I’d say? Give or take a few? A longway, basically.”
Keith sighed. “Then I guess we should start heading theresooner rather than later.” He made his way toward Green’s cockpit. “Youremergency supply stock is unlocked, right?”
“Hang on, you wanna leave? Now?”
“Well, yeah, as good a time as any.”
“But we haven’t decided how we’re going to travel.”
“On foot.”
“On foot?” Pidge repeated incredulously.
“Look, I’m not exactly looking forward to it either, but wedon’t have any other option. Our only other means of transportation is Green,and she’s down for the count. So, yeah. We’ll have to walk.”
Pidge bit her lip, turning to look toward the trees aroundthem, presumably in the direction the signal’s origin point would be. “I… guessI could navigate it. Looked into the topography and suns’ cycles on this planet,should be enough. But God, Keith, walking? Walking eighty miles?Uphill?! Are you trying to kill us?”
“Just the opposite,” Keith called from Green’s cockpit. Helocated the small storage space in the cockpit, the same location as it was inRed, and knelt down to open it and look through the supplies. There was arucksack full of first aid supplies and emergency blankets at the front, whichhe pulled out and set beside him before reaching for the canteens of water andpacks of dehydrated food.
The moment he started pulling these out, though, he realizedsomething was wrong. He tested the weight of the packs and canteens in hishands as he rooted through them, and they were too light, much too light. Overhalf of the containers seemed to be empty, and a portion of the remaining onespartially so.
What the hell? Where had the rations gone? Keith thoughtback, trying to think of when Pidge might have used them up. She had been onthat trash nebula planet for quite a while, the one where she’d picked up thoseodd little creatures that had made a home in her bedroom. Likely she had eatenthrough a portion of her rations then, maybe even shared some with her newpets. And there’d been a couple of missions where a day trip had turned intoovernight stays in the lions. But hadn’t she restocked after that?
No, probably not. When it came to anything involvingcomputers or technology, Pidge was absolutely meticulous, keeping everythingorganized perfectly and having a protocol in place for every possible situationthat could arise, able to write thousands and thousands of lines of codewithout so much as a single semicolon out of place. But as regards everythingelse – well, the state of her bedroom was a testament to her organizationalskills in matters that didn’t involve a screen lit up in front of her.
Keith shook his head as he pulled the packs and canteens outfrom their store, starting to move the food rations into a spare emptyrucksack. How could someone so smart still be so absent-minded?
He began redistributing the food and water, using thecontents of one half-empty canteen to fill another, then doing the same withthe next, trying to make the supplies take up as few containers as possible. Ittook him a minute to realize that Pidge was calling his name from outside.
“Hm?” Keith hummed, looking up.
“How’re we on food?”
Keith glanced down at the stock of food in his arms, tryingto rapidly do the calculations in his head. Between the two of them, if theywere conservative as possible with the supplies, they could make this stufflast a quintant and a half without starting to feel the negative effects oflacking food and water, maybe two quintants. That definitely wasn’t long enoughto go eighty miles.
Then again, that was only if they insisted on using thesupplies up at a regular rate. It wouldn’t be good for Pidge to try to cut downon food and water while they were out there, but Keith? He’d done withoutbefore. He’d had to be careful about conserving water back when he was livingin his shack out in the desert, and back during his foster care years, the moreneglectful homes and those more stringent with punishments had had him go a dayor two without food before. It had been a while, but if absolutely necessary,it was something he could probably manage to do again.
And judging by their current supply of rations, this lookedlike it might be one of those necessary times.
“Keith?” Pidge called again.
“Sorry,” Keith called back, gathering the rations and water,and remembering to grab up the bag of first aid supplies and blankets beforeleaving. He climbed out of Green and onto the ground, slinging the food andcanteens over his shoulder and tossing the rucksack of supplies to Pidge.“Yeah, we should be good to go. You know which way we’re going?”
“Got a pretty good idea,” Pidge replied with a nod.“Straight between those two suns for now, and we’re looking for a comms centerat a high elevation.”
“Fantastic,” Keith said. “Well, let’s get a move on.” Heturned and started marching off in the direction Pidge had indicated.
“Hang on,” Pidge said as she fell into step behind him. “Yousure that’s enough supplies for the full trip? It’s gotta be about a threedays’ walk.”
“Yeah, it’s fine. The food’s dehydrated, so it’s compact.Looks like less than it is.”
Pidge shrugged. “All right. There doesn’t happen to be atent in this bag, does there?”
“Did you pack a tent in Green?”
“No.”
“There you go. I’ve got emergency blankets, that’s it.”
Pidge groaned. “God, this is gonna suck.”
And with that, they were on their way. Pidge kept up a bitof idle chatter at first, just talking about the goings-on at the castle andtossing in a few reminiscences about life back home, but it flickered out aftera while. The hike was tiring, and talking was using up unnecessary energy. NeitherKeith nor Pidge were great conversationalists anyway, and the silence waspeaceful.
They stopped a couple of times for water breaks. Keith wouldslide a couple of canteens off his shoulder, hand one over to Pidge. She wouldgulp gratefully from hers, and Keith would take a few cautious sips from hisown, just enough to keep going. Gotta be careful with it, gotta spread out hisdrinks if he didn’t want to wind up cutting into Pidge’s share.
Besides their exhaustion, they ran into no major obstaclesalong their path. Their way got steep in a few places, sure, and they foundsome animal tracks weaving through the forest floor starting a couple of vargasinto their trip and had to keep their eyes peeled for the tracks’ owners, butnever actually encountered anything. All in all, they were lucking out on thetrip.
They agreed to find the clearest spot they could to makecamp when the one of the suns they needed for navigation had ducked out ofsight, its partner dipping low into the horizon ready to follow. Pidge spreadout their blankets, and Keith trekked into the trees to gather some drybranches before he got to work setting a fire for the campsite. Pidge watchedhim closely, not willing to believe that Keith actually knew how to start afire by rubbing sticks together until she actually saw it in action.
“Holy crap, man,” she said in awe as his arrangement of deadbranches caught flame. “How the hell did you even know how to do that?”
“Learned,” Keith said with a shrug.
Pidge rolled her eyes. “Okay, cool, thanks for not beingvague about it. Hey, toss me some of the food, will you? I want a bedtimesnack.”
Keith did, and she tore open the pack and started pouringthe contents into her mouth. “You gonna have any?” she asked after swallowing.
“Nah, I, uh – I ate some just a little while ago, I’m good.”
“When was that? I didn’t see you eating.”
“It was while you were on your pee break.”
“Ah. That explains it.”
Keith nodded. “So, should one of us stay up and keep watchwhile the other sleeps? We still don’t know if there’s anything out here.Probably shouldn’t let our guard down.”
“Oh, good, I was wondering when Mr. Paranoid was gonna stopby and visit,” Pidge said with a little smirk. “Seriously, though, sounds good.I can take first watch? Since I’m usually up pretty late anyhow and you alwaysget up insanely early. Put our bizarre sleep schedules to good use.”
Keith nodded. “Sounds good.”
They took up their positions, Pidge on watch, Keith on theground asleep. If there was one good thing to be said for how laborious thiswhole trip was, it was that it at least made it easier for him to fall asleep.He was exhausted enough that his lights were out within a minute of resting hishead on the ground.
Pidge shook him awake well into the night to take his turn,and he struggled to get his eyes open through his fatigue, but he sat up,readying himself to take watch. He spared a couple of sips from the canteen,enough to get the taste of sleep out of his mouth and make his thick salivafeel a little less like paste. Then, he waited out the rest of the night,finally waking Pidge come morning.
Pidge yawned widely when she woke, and she immediatelyreached for the canteen as well, taking a couple of gulps before asking, “Wegot breakfast?”
“Bon appétit,” Keith replied, tossing another food packether way. “I already ate, I’ll go ahead and get our camp cleared away.”
He stamped out their fire, covering it in dirt to hissatisfaction before moving to roll up his emergency blanket. Pidge finished offher food before rolling up her own, and, once she was assured of the directionthey were supposed to walk, they set off.
Today’s walk was just as exciting as yesterday’s had been,running into nothing that presented any real obstacle to them, insteadsteadfastly moving forward throughout the day.
At one point a couple of hours into the morning, Pidge hadthrown her arm out in front of Keith to bring them to a halt. Her eyes dartedaround them suspiciously, nervously. “What is it?” Keith asked.
“Did you hear that?” Pidge said quietly.
“Hear what?”
“That growling sound,” she answered. “I think there might bean animal nearby.”
“Oh.” Keith was glad Pidge wasn’t looking at him at thismoment, because he could feel himself blush as he brought a hand up to hisstomach. “I, uh, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”
Pidge turned to him then, raising a brow. “Seriously? Neverthought I’d see the day when you’d think a strange sound wasnothing to worry about. Didn’t you try to, like, attack Hunk once when youheard him snoring?”
“I did not attack him. I investigated the noise.”
“You brought your sword along.”
“Being armed is not the same as attacking, Pidge.”
“Oh, whatever,” Pidge said, rolling her eyes. “I’m stillgonna keep an eye out, though. You can go ahead and get mauled if you wanna, Iwon’t stop you.”
Keith let out a huff, but Pidge had started walking again,so he didn’t bother retaliating, just followed after her.
They carried on their way, Pidge occasionally asking him topass her a canteen, the two of them stopping once for a bathroom slash snackbreak. Keith didn’t make much use of it, but Pidge didn’t seem to notice. Or atleast, she didn’t get onto him this time about not joining in on the food.
She was really starting to grow bored, Keith could tell, andhe certainly couldn’t blame her. The walking was getting to him as well, and hewas becoming more and more exhausted, the way he would back when he was atschool and sitting through a particularly tedious lecture: zoning out, eyesglazing over before he snapped them back to focus, ever impatient. Not tomention a headache had started up, because of course it had.
Pidge tried after a while to find a new way to keepthemselves entertained as they went along, and decided to start up some classiccar games. Keith honestly didn’t particularly want to join in – all the walkingwas starting to make his head a little fuzzy – but he obliged for her sake.Dying of exhaustion would probably be a better way for her to go than dying ofboredom. So he found himself in the middle of a round of twenty questions thatwas making his headache throb.
“Come on Keith,” she said, holding up two fingers. “Twoquestions left.”
“Okay, um,” Keith said, bring his hand up to dig the heelinto his forehead. “Uh, does it, um, run on batteries?”
“Some can.” She folded one finger down. “One more.”
“Could you find it in a classroom?”
“Yes. Final guess.”
“Is it a, uh… pencil sharpener?”
“No. It was a thermocirculator.”
Keith stared at her. “How the fuck would I have ever guessedthermocirculator?”
“How the fuck did you guess pencil sharpener?” Pidge shotback.
“What classroom has a thermocirculator in it?”
“The biology labs at the Garrison do, so suck it. Yourturn.”
Keith sighed and took a moment to think, his heavy, sorelegs making that a somewhat difficult task. “All right, got one,” he said aftera couple of minutes.
“Okay, person, place, or thing?” Pidge asked.
“Person,” said Keith.
“Is it Shiro?”
“… Thing.”
“Nope, too late, I win,” Pidge said. “God, you suck atthis.”
“Come on, I switched, you can still try to guess the thing.”
“Fine. Is it the Red Lion?”
Keith scowled and dropped his head, crossing his arms overhis chest. “This is a stupid game,” he mumbled.
“You’re a sore loser,” Pidge said, clambering over a thickfallen branch in their path. Keith followed her, but as he hoisted himselfover, his vision went blurry in a wave of dizziness. He stumbled over the restof the branch, barely managing to not lose his balance completely and fallright over, and he took a moment to close his eyes and take some deep breaths.
“Keith?” Pidge said. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Keith grunted, not looking up yet. His legs werestarting to feel like rubber, and he could feel his heart thumping rapidly. Hehad no clue what that was about. When he opened his eyes, Pidge was staring athim, her face crossed with worry, so he added, “Just lost my balance for amoment. I – it’s hot out here, probably starting to get to me a bit.”
“You need to stop for a water break?” Pidge asked.
Keith sighed, but he nodded – it would definitely seemsuspicious if he refused water right then. He pulled a canteen from hisshoulder and took a few gulps of it before capping it again. It was enough tosatisfy Pidge, so she turned around and continued leading them on their way,Keith falling into step behind her and swallowing back the nausea that thewater had brought.
They kept up their trek for the remainder of the day just asthey had the day before, stopping to camp only when they were running low onsunlight. Pidge took first watch, and when she shook Keith awake for his turn,waking up seemed like the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life. Hefelt like his body weighed about a ton as he got up off the ground, and hecould feel himself shaking. He wasn’t shaking enough that Pidge would notice,though, so long as he kept moving once she was up.
Pidge was confident that they had been walking long enoughthat the communications center they were looking for couldn’t be too muchfarther away, so she was in high spirits when they set out again. Keith was toofocused on staying upright to respond.
Pidge suggested I Spy to pass the time today, but Keithdeclined. He was pretty sure he’d get even dizzier than he already was if hetried looking all around for things Pidge saw, but the reasoning he gave Pidgewas that there wasn’t much around them besides trees. So she went with thealphabet game instead. Keith definitely would have preferred if she had justpicked the Quiet Game. His voice was growing dry from trying to keep upconversation, and he was started to have a bit of trouble hearing Pidge. Hervoice would fade in an out, like someone was slowly turning the volume dialback and forth, non-stop.
At least he wasn’t feeling as hot now as he was earlier.
About a varga after they’d had their – Pidge’s – food break,Pidge grasped Keith’s arm and pointed into the distance up the hill they wereclimbing. “Keith, you see that?” she asked.
Keith squinted, trying to focus. “See what?”
“That building there! See that corner sticking out, there atthe top! That’s gotta be the comms center! We’re so close!”
“That’s – that’s great.”
Pidge grinned at him. “Race you to the top?” she asked.
“What?”
But Pidge had already taken off. With a groaned, Keithclambered off after her, his legs and his armor feeling heavier than ever. Hetripped and stumbled at one point, and his world seemed to sway, lurchingoff-center. In the distance he could see Pidge through the tree branches,having turned back to him, probably stopping when she’d noticed that thefastest person on the team suddenly could not keep up with her in a race. “Youokay?” she called.
Keith couldn’t answer. He leaned his hand against the trunkof a nearby tree, pausing to take heavy, panting breaths that did nothing toease the dryness in his mouth. Vaguely he was aware of Pidge saying somethingelse to him, but he didn’t bother trying to decipher her words – all his mentalenergy was currently focused entirely on keeping himself standing upright.
“Keith?” he could finally make out through the fog pressingagainst his skull, and he looked up wearily to see Pidge’s blurred facespinning in front of him. She must have come back. “Keith?” she repeated, andher voice echoed dimly in his head. “What’s going on?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out, so hetried shaking his head instead. Bad idea. The moment he did so, another wave ofdizziness crashed over him and the edges of his vision started to darken.Distantly he sensed that his hand was no longer holding the rest of him upagainst the tree trunk, and that was all he could note before he fadedentirely.
The instant Keith started going down, Pidge darted backtoward him, her concern replaced with outright fear. “Keith!” she shouted,shoving branches aside to reach him and rolling his prone figure onto its back.
“Keith!” she called again, shaking him by the shoulders. Hiseyes cracked open blearily, but they were completely unfocused and fell shutagain after a few seconds.
She ripped off her glove and pressed her hand to his flushedforehead, testing for fever. He did seem a warm, but then again, that mighthave just been from being outside in the relative heat and walking for days onend. She was exhausted too, had the stench and the sweat to show for it –
She paused, staring at her hand where it rested on Keith’sforehead as she realized something odd. His skin was bone-dry. Normally at theend of a long training session, Keith would be pretty much drenched, faceglistening with a layer of sweat and hair plastered to his forehead and neck. Heshould have been in that sort of state now, like Pidge was.
How long had he not been sweating?
She supposed that the ‘how long’ didn’t matter as much assimply the fact that he was dry now, and she knew what that meant.
Cursing herself for not having noticed earlier, before Keithhad wound up passed out from dehydration, Pidge shuffled around him to tug oneof the canteens away from where it was slung over his shoulder. She noticed itslight weight and shook it in her hand, and, when she heard nothing inside, spatout some more curses and tossed it aside, reaching for another. She tested afew more canteens that seemed to be just as empty, before finally hearingliquid sloshing around in the last one.
“All right, Keith,” she muttered, uncapping the canteen movingaround him to prop him up. “Come on, drink up, let’s get some water in you.”
Keith still barely cracked his eyes open, but he appeared tobe just conscious enough to know that he needed to swallow, since he did justthat. Pidge sighed in relief as Keith gulped down the water, only stopping whenit was empty.
“Okay,” she said, “Okay, we’re okay, we just have to – ”
She stopped when Keith lurched away from her, stiffening andletting out a strained belch. He shuddered for a few seconds before he lurchedagain, this time horking up a large globule of translucent vomit.
Pidge watched in horror, only just now remembering thatyou’re not supposed to let a dehydrated person drink too much water tooquickly. She swore under her breath again as she rubbed at Keith’s back, thelatter weakly coughing up the rest of the water, wanting to kick herself forhaving just made things worse. As much as it revolted her to look at it, shecouldn’t help but glance at the vomit, and she realized when she did that itwas clear. Just water, no food.
Oh, God, Keith being dehydrated and overheating were badenough, but now adding starvation to the mix…
Pidge’s breaths came fast, and her head was spinning in apanic. Keith was sick. Keith was sick, and Pidge was the only one around, andthey were out of rations, and the last of their water had just been wasted, soshe could neither give him anything to drink nor cool him down, and thecommunications center they were looking for was so fucking close,but not close enough for Keith to walk – even as his retching was subsiding, hehad collapsed onto the ground again, only one shaking elbow keeping him proppedup, so it was unlikely he’d be able to walk any distance at all right now –and definitely not close enough for Pidge to drag him. If shehad been Hunk or Shiro, she probably could have carried Keith, but as it was,she was stuck.
She chewed at her lip and wrung her hands nervously as shelooked down at Keith. Keith couldn’t leave on his own power, and she couldn’tbodily move him anywhere, but she could still go. Get to the communicationscenter as fast as she could, get someone to come back with her, bring water andmaybe some food along or some kind of medical equipment – or would that slowthem down to much? Would they have to come back to comms center first beforetreating him? Pidge didn’t know which would be quicker.
Whatever. The people at the comms center probably knew, andshe was wasting time. And as much as she hated to leave Keith behind, it didn’tlook like she had any other choice.
She slung her rucksack to the ground, fishing through it topull out the first-aid kit. There wasn’t much in it that would be useful here –no water or food packets or, like, refrigerator, but there was an ice pack atleast. She snapped it between her hands and tucked it under Keith’s neck wherehe lay on the ground and she rolled him onto his back. “I’m so sorry, I’ve gotto leave,” she said softly. “I swear, I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll be rightback.”
She straightened up and started to sprint, praying that luckwould hold enough that Keith would be all right as she fetched help. The forestseemed to have little by way of wildlife, and she had an innate knack fornavigation and directions, so she knew she wouldn’t lose track of Keith’s location.
But still, thinking of the way Keith had looked when she’dleft, prone and exhausted and practically unmoving…
Pidge shook the image out of her head and forced her legs tomove even faster.
Ten minutes in when she was heaving for breath and had astitch in her side that felt like a knife through the ribs, her suit startedworking again, the soft electrical hum alerting her before she saw the lightscome on and felt the cooling system kick in. “Great timing,” she growled at it,but at least the fact that it was working meant she’d been right about theelevation, and she was close to her destination. And having the suit powered onagain made the last five minutes of her run easier than her first ten.
She burst through the entryway the moment she reached thecommunications center, slamming the door against the wall and then leaningagainst the doorway, gasping for breath. The room’s occupants turned to look ather. The place looked a bit like a simplified version of a mission control roomback at the Garrison, and the aliens here were more or less humanoid in shape,but boxier and with scute-armored skin like an armadillo’s and orange eyes atleast twice the size of a human’s.
One of the aliens, seated at a console at the far end of theroom, stood upon her entrance. “Ah, paladin of Voltron,” he said. “You’relate.”
“Yeah,” Pidge snarled through her heavingbreaths. “I know.”
“Is something wrong?” the alien asked lightly.
Pidge fixed him with the heaviest glower she could muster.God, and she thought Keith was bad at reading people.
Speaking of whom –
“Are you the one who sent the missive out to Voltron?” shebit out.
“I am, yes,” the alien answered with a nod. “Broniff.Pleased to meet – ”
“Well, thanks a lot for warning us about the fuckingatmosphere! I crashed my ship, we had to walk for days to get here, and nowanother paladin of Voltron is out there without food or water and he could windup dying if we don’t get a fucking move on!”
There was a pause as her words echoed throughout the room. “Isee,” Broniff eventually said. “Apologies. But what do you want us to do?”
“I want you to come retrieve him so we can start getting himhealed! Come on, if you’ve got any water or anything cold, bring that too, justget moving, now!”
Broniff frowned uncertainly at her. “We are a communicationscenter,” he said. “Not a hospital.”
“And you’re not gonna be eitherif you don’t get off your asses right this fucking minute and help my friend!”Pidge shouted, whipping her bayard out and brandishing it threateningly.Broniff took a step back and eyes widened all over the room. It was a smartmove on Allura’s part, Pidge realized at the back of her mind, to have sent herand Keith on a supply-dealing mission rather than a diplomatic one; this sortof threat probably wouldn’t have gone over well at a royal dinner party.
But it did its job, got the aliens up and moving, a couplegrabbing bottles as they left, and Pidge led the way, shoving aside herexhaustion from before and focusing only on getting back to Keith. The aliensdidn’t all follow – she hadn’t expected them to – but enough came along thatthey’d be able to haul Keith back to the comms center no problem.
Her leaden legs were ready to collapse from all thesprinting by the time they reached Keith, so she let herself drop to the forestfloor, apprehensively checking his pulse. She hadn’t expected him to have diedwhile she was gone, but she still couldn’t stop herself from feeling dizzy withrelief when she could detect it.
The other aliens had clamored around Keith as well, beforePidge reminded them to give him air, and one who had brought a bottle alongreached it out to give Keith a drink, but Pidge snatched it from them andlifted Keith’s head to pour it herself, being extra careful this time to onlygive him a couple of small sips, not let him drink too fast. The aliens weretalking to her, asking questions, and she answered what she could. One of themmentioned something about heatstroke, which wouldn’t have surprised Pidge atall, and it wasn’t long before two of the aliens were lifting Keith up betweenthem and starting back toward the center.
One who lingered behind asked if Pidge needed help gettingup as well. “No,” she answered, before trying to push herself off the groundonly to discover that her legs now seemed to weigh a few thousand pounds each.“…Yes,” she said, and the alien hauled her up onto their back and made tofollow the others.
They didn’t have much by way of means to help Keith feelcomfortable back at the comms center, but the aliens did their best – whetherout of concern for the red paladin or fear of the green one’s bayard, Pidgedidn’t know, but as long as something was being done, the motivations didn’treally matter. Keith had started shifting a little in unrest, but still hadn’twakened, when she’d entered a room that could have been a break room, couldhave been a storage room, to find two of the aliens setting him down across arow of chairs, and another was bringing water in.
Pidge supervised, ensuring that the aliens knew how muchwater to give him and the fact that they needed to keep him cool, before sheturned to Broniff. “You sent the missive, so you’d be able to get in touch withVoltron, right?”
“That’s correct,” Broniff said. “And you were expected toarrive over two quintants ago, you know. The mining corporation who extendedthe offer of their metals were waiting for – ”
“Yeah, that’s actually kinda taken a backseat now,” Pidgeinterrupted. “I’m not negotiating any rock prices until my friend’s better, andthat’s gonna happen a lot quicker if you get me Voltron on the line.”
Broniff huffed, clearly miffed at her tone, but he led theway to one of the consoles to open a line with the Castle of Lions. It took afew minutes, minutes that Pidge spent tapping her fingers anxiously againstBroniff’s seat, earning her dirty looks from the alien which she pointedlyignored, but eventually Coran’s face appeared in the screen. “Coran!” Pidgecried. “Thank God, it’s good to see you.”
“Number five,” Coran said with a nod, “I take itnegotiations on that ore have – ”
“No, no, we never got to them,” Pidge cut him off. “Is Hunkaround? We’re gonna need him.”
“Right here, Pidge!” Hunk’s voice called, and a few tickslater he appeared in the screen next to Coran. “Do you need all of us? Coranand I were working on some maintenance here on the bridge, so Lance took a nap,but I can go get him.”
“No, it’s fine, don’t bother. Look, I’m going to haveBroniff send you the specs on this planet’s atmosphere and electromagneticfields, and then I need you two to get Yellow shielded up so Hunk can come infor an extraction, and make it soon.”
Coran and Hunk both stared at her. “Wait, what?” said Hunk.
Pidge let out a breath through her nose. “We need you topick us up. Green’s out crash-landed in the forest about eighty miles northeastof here and we can’t get her back up and running until – ”
“Wait, you crashed Green?” Hunk asked.
“Yes, but it wasn’t my fault! There’s something all messedup in the atmosphere in this planet; the moment we got close enough to thesurface, everything electrical just went kaput. This spot is one of the onlyplaces where communications tech actually work.”
“What?” Coran said. He turned to Broniff. “Why were we notinformed of this before you asked us for an audience at your planet?”
“I had thought you already knew,” Broniff replied calmly.
Pidge rolled her eyes and nudged the alien aside to takefull control of the camera and screen. “Look, doesn’t matter, okay? Now weknow, and we can do something about it. Broniff can give you all the info youneed, and you guys can get Yellow ready and get down here and grab Green andpick up me and Keith. Coran, how long do you think that will take?”
“We’ve got plenty of shielding technology on the castle towork with,” Coran answered. “Depending on what’s actually in the atmospherecausing this problem, we might be able to get something together within a fewvargas.”
“Fine, just get to work on getting Yellow set up and getdown here ASAP, all right? However fast that is!”
“All right, all right, Pidge,” Coran said. “Why theurgency?”
“Because Keith is sick!” Pidge snapped.
“Keith is – ” Coran started to repeat.
“Sick, yes! And we need to get him back to castle and to themed bay, and soon!”
Hunk let out a little sound almost like a whine. “Man, don’tbury the lede like that! What’s wrong with him?” he asked, his signature worrydripping from his voice.
“He’s dehydrated. Badly. Someone here said probably heatexhaustion too, and – and it doesn’t look like he’s eaten a thing in the pastcouple of days.”
“What?! Why – why hasn’t he been eating ordrinking?”
“Because he’s a fucking idiot, I don’t know! Just get Yellowdown here so we can fix it, okay?!”
“Right, right, Roger that,” Hunk said, nodding vigorously.They gave no parting salutation before Coran turned off the screen, and thatwas fine by Pidge. At least it meant they were getting started quick.
Now all that was left to do was wait, and Pidge had neverbeen good at waiting. She took to pacing for a while, before realizing that shewas way too tired and sore to keep that up for the next few vargas, so insteadshe planted herself in a chair, arms crossed, glaring down at the floor whenshe wasn’t watching Keith at the other side of the room. She didn’t get up tosit next to him until he roused, and that wasn’t until another too-fast gulp ofwater sent him into hacking coughs that managed to fully wake him.
Pidge rubbed her hand in circles on his back as he groanedand tried to regain his breath, and she mumbled assurances that Hunk would behere soon, and Coran would get him all fixed up, and they just had to wait, butit was hard to convey the right tone when she was waiting so impatientlyherself. Yes, patience is a virtue, but Pidge had never thought of herself asparticularly virtuous.
And Keith and Shiro always had that ‘patience yields focus’mantra, but she didn’t need to focus on anything right now. She just had towait.
When Hunk finally came onto her now-working comms to let herknow he and Yellow were nearly there, she could have melted in relief. Butinstead she supervised as one of the aliens helped Keith up to half-walk out tothe lion, and she took over once they’d reached the ramp leading into Yellow’sjaw.
Hunk smiled warmly when they entered, although he couldn’t keepthe worry out of his eyes when he looked at Keith, who was leaning againstPidge like she was the only thing keeping him upright. “How you holding up,buddy?” he asked.
Keith mumbled something incoherent as Pidge lowered the twoof them to the floor to sit up against the wall. Hunk didn’t ask anything else,just took off to go retrieve Green. And after the long trek it had taken Pidgeand Keith to get from Green’s crash site to the communications center, the tripback at Yellow’s speed seemed to take no time at all.
Keith had fallen asleep again, with his heading lolling ontoPidge’s shoulder, by the time Hunk scooped Green up in Yellow’s mouth andannounced to Coran that they were heading back to the Castle. Once he finishedthat, he glanced back toward Pidge and Keith. “How’s he doing?” he asked.
“He’s hanging in there,” Pidge answered. She nudged Keith’shead back into place on her shoulder as it threatened to roll off.
“So, what – what happened? I mean, you said he wasn’t eatingor drinking, but, I mean, have you figured out why yet?”
Pidge wracked her mind, her thoughts finally landing on theempty canteens Keith had been carrying when he’d passed out, and a grim weightsettled in her stomach. “I think I can guess,” she mumbled. “I think – I thinkhe might have been trying to conserve supplies.”
“What?”
“He told me we were fine on rations, but I never actuallychecked for myself. And – and he said he was eating and drinking andeverything, and I didn’t think I had any reason to doubt him, so…”
“So he was lying?”
“Seems like it,” Pidge sighed.
“But… why?”
Pidge just shook her head, but the question occupied herthoughts all the way up until they had made it back to the Castle.
Pidge had hoped that when they got back, they would be ableto put Keith in a healing pod and be done with it, get everything back tonormal, but Coran had to remind her that the pods were for treating injuries.And Keith wasn’t injured, aside from the sorts of minor cuts and bruises he andPidge had both sustained from marching through a forest for days, so hisrecovery had to be done the old-fashioned way.
This meant a slow and ongoing process consisting ofcarefully measured and timed meals and drinks, strict sleep schedules, coolbaths and constant thermostat adjustments, and constant mother-henning fromboth Coran and Hunk. Hunk seemed to take Keith going days without food as apersonal offense, and was determined to ensure that Keith was back up to eatingnormally again soon, while Coran kept tedious notes on his food and waterintake and couldn’t go a varga without checking his temperature.
Lance, after getting over his bitterness about the fact thatneither Coran nor Hunk had thought to tell him about what was going on until afterhe’d woken up from his long nap on his own, had offered to supervise Keith andmake sure he didn’t overexert himself while he was supposed to be resting up,an offer that Keith had turned down immediately. He’d let Shiro take the job,though, once he and Allura returned from their own mission, and Lance hadinsisted, with a scowl, that he hadn’t wanted to do it anyway. No one but Keithbelieved him.
Pidge, for her part, stayed out of the way.
She avoided the med bay like it was toxic, and took her mealsand snacks in the kitchen when they didn’t overlap with the mealtimes Hunk hadscheduled for Keith to get him back to regularity. And about a movement intohis recovery, when he rejoined the other paladins in the lounge for the firsttime, she remembered some coding she needed to do and left immediately for herroom.
Every time she looked at Keith, she would get a glimpse ofthat overheated, dried-out, retching version of Keith that had passed out onthe forest floor, and she didn’t want to see that. Seeing that pissed her off.
She managed to avoid pretty much all interaction with Keithat all up until the day when, right after she had sat down with her lunch andstarted to eat, Keith had entered the kitchen too, going for the cabinets. “Whatare you doing here?” she asked sharply.
Keith raised a brow at her. “Eating.”
“I thought your lunch had just finished, like, ten minutesago.”
Keith shook his head. “We’re moving away from Hunk’sschedule a bit. He’s letting me eat without a babysitter today.” He opened thefridge, pulled out a plate with clear wrap over it, and walked to the table. “Mindif I sit?” he asked. Pidge didn’t answer, and he sat.
The two of them set to eating, neither saying a word to theother. Pidge kept her eyes pointedly on her food, shoveling it up as fast asshe could without getting sick or appearing suspicious. Keith ate much slower,still taking the small bites Hunk had instructed for him, and he was watchingPidge. Even without looking at him Pidge could feel his eyes on her. A coupleof times, he took a breath as if he were about to say something, but didn’t.
“Are you… mad at me?” Keith finally managed to ask when thesilence had stretched to the point where the awkwardness was almostsuffocating.
Pidge snorted, looking up at him for the first time sincethe meal had started. “Am I? Wonder why that might be.”
Keith frowned, furrowing his brow. “You haven’t talked to mein, well, a while. Did – did I do something?”
With an exasperated sigh, Pidge slapped her spork down ontothe table. Well, he’s the one who asked. Might as well have this talk. “Are youseriously asking this? You seriously can’t figure out why Imight be a little upset with you?!”
“Um…”
Pidge slapped her hand against the table. “You didn’t thinkI’d be a little upset with you about what happened after Green went down? Abouthow you, you know, lied about the rations and went and starved yourself andscared me half to death?”
“Oh. You’re mad about that?”
“Yes, I’m fucking mad about that!”
Keith sighed and set his spork down. “Okay, look, I knowthings didn’t end so great, but I wasn’t trying to scare you or upset you oranything. Honest. I was just trying to – we didn’t have a whole lot of rations,see. So, I took less than I usually would so they would last the whole trip.End of story.”
“No, not end ofstory!” Pidge spat. “Why the fuck did you not tell me about the rations?”
Keith hesitated. “Well, I, uh – ”
“We could have done something! We could have looked for ariver or a spring or something! We could have gone hunting or foraging forfood! We didn’t have to only rely on those rations!”
“Or maybe we did,” Keith said. “We might not have found anywater, and we don’t know what plants or animals would have been safe to eat.”
“Then we would have figured out something else! Come on, I’mthe guardian spirit of nature, and you lived alone in a desert for a year.We’re practically built for survivalism! We could have managed something! Imean, if you had actually told me therewas a problem, then we could have solved it!”
Keith sighed. “Pidge, I just didn’t want you to have toworry, okay? I did it for - ”
“You’d better not say you did it for me.”
“But I did.”
Pidge slammed her hand against the table. “I didn’t askyou to do that!”
Keith huffed, a strand of his bangs fluttering against hisforehead. “Well, yeah, you wouldn’t have. You didn’t need to.”
“Didn’t need to?”
“Yeah, I mean, I – I would’ve – ”
“You would have starved and dehydrated yourself either way?That’s just the automatic Plan A in your head?”
Keith just shrugged in answer.
“Keith,” Pidge said sharply. She leaned across the table andlooked intently at him. Keith glanced down, never one who had much of a knackfor maintaining eye contact, but Pidge was undeterred. “What if I had beenthe one who found out about the low rations, and I had decided to starve anddehydrate myself for your sake? Would you have liked that?”
“…No,” Keith admitted after a few seconds’hesitation. “But - ”
“But nothing. If you’d be upset with me ‘protecting’ youthat way, then you should assume the same goes for vice versa.”
“Wha– Pidge, I don’t need protecting!”
“Neither do I!”
Keith opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out, sohe stuck to scowling at Pidge instead. Pidge scowled back, and they stayed thatway until Pidge finally let her expression drop and slumped into her seat witha sigh. “You know Matt?” she asked. “My brother?”
“Uh, yeah?” Keith said, raising his eyebrow at the nonsequitur.
“He broke his leg once.”
“… Is that the whole story?”
Pidge glared agin. “No, it’s not the whole story, shutup. It was - it was a couple years before Matt got accepted into the Garrison.The two of us had been walking home from my elementary school. We lived, like,three blocks from it, and Matt’s junior high was just another another twoblocks over, so we always walked together when neither of us had anyafter-school thing going on. Anyway, we were walking home, and some idiot fromthe high school had made a sharp turn onto the same street as us on a moped,wound up skidding onto the sidewalk, because, like I said, this guy was anidiot. Matt spotted him coming like a second before I did, so all of a suddenhe jumps up next to me to shield me or something, and the next thing I know,the guy’s back wheel catches Matt’s leg, and he takes Matt down with him whenhis moped topples over.”
She picked up her spork and was quiet for a few ticks as shestabbed idly at the food goo on her plate before continuing. “He broke his legin three places. Some old lady on the street who’d been looking out the windowor something called nine-one-one, Matt got the whole shebang, big old plastercast and crutches and everything. And he kept cracking jokes the whole time; Idon’t even remember what the jokes were, I’d just been too focused on freakingout because – because Matt shouldn’t have been there. He shouldn’t have been inthe path of the moped at all. I was there. I could’ve taken the hit.”
“Pidge,” Keith said slowly, “Come on, he’s your big brother.You can’t blame him for being protective of you. And you would have gotten hurtif he hadn’t, so – ”
“Yeah, that was his logic too. He was real insistent that hewas just doing his noble duty as the older sibling, and that it wasn’t a bigdeal. But you know what?” She let out a deep breath. “It was abig deal. Because for the whole two months that he had that stupid cast on, allI could ever think about was the fact that he didn’t have tohave broken his leg. If he’d just left things as they were, then, sure, Iwould’ve been the one to wind up with the broken leg, but the net result isstill basically the same: one person who broke their leg and one who didn’t.And Matt was closer to the moped guy by jumping between us like he did, so Iwouldn’t have even taken as direct a hit if it’d been me he’d run into.
“And, God, it kinda pissed me off. Matt kept brushing it offlike, oh, it’s fine, no biggie, but I know it wasn’t fine. I’d heard himcomplaining to Mom and Dad about how frustrating it was to bathe and stuff withthat cast on and how bad it itched and how sore his arms were from thecrutches. And he had to miss out on a full season of soccer, and meanwhile Ididn’t even play any sports. But every time I’d try to talk to him about it,he’d just grin and say everything was fine, that’s what big brothers are for,he’s just glad I was okay. And I hated it. I didn’t like post-noble-sacrificeMatt and I wished so bad that just once he’d actually, like, get mad at me. Getfrustrated. Ask me why I couldn’t have just moved out of the way of the fuckingmoped myself. You know, make me feel like a little less of an idiot forasking myself that all the time.”
“I don’t want to be protected, Keith. Not if you’ve gottaget hurt in order to protect me. I would much rather just take the bullet thanfeel horrible after someone else takes it for me.”
“Pidge, I – I can’t promise – I mean, we’re a team, we’resupposed to protect each other.”
Pidge rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Like you wouldn’tbe upset if one of the others went and hurt themselves for your sake. QuickEnglish lesson, Keith: when you say ‘each other’, that means it has to go both ways.Which means you gotta be just as okay with me protecting you as you are withprotecting me. And I know that’s not even close to being true.”
Keith frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve seen the things you do in training and onmissions. The way you act. We all have. I’ve seen you put more focus onguarding Shiro from training bots than guarding yourself, I’ve seen you run outinto crossfire like it’s nothing, seen you throw yourself on us like a humanshield. You don’t even give us a chance to protect you. It’s like heroicsacrifice is always your first instinct.”
Keith squirmed in his seat, and he didn’t meet Pidge’s eyeswhen he responded. “Look, I’m not trying to martyr myself or anything, and Idon’t - I don’t want to be hurt or to… you know…”
“Die?”
“Yeah. But, well, if there’s a situation where it looks likeone of the paladins is going to have to take the hit or get left behind orsomething, doesn’t it make the most sense for it to be me?”
Pidge blinked at him. “What the fuck are you – ? No, ofcourse it doesn’t.”
“It does. Think about it. All of the rest of you are kindairreplaceable. Shiro’s the leader, no question about that. You’re the techexpert, and not even the Galra army can match your skill with computers. Hunk’sthe engineer, and we wouldn’t be able to get half the things in the hangar orarmory working without him. Lance is the sharpshooter - and Coran also said awhile back that he’s the source of team morale. Me? I can fly, and I can fight.But we all can fly, and we all can fight, soit’s not like you couldn’t get on just the same without me doing it.” He took adeep breath and lowered his gaze. “I’m just trying to be practical here.Think about what would be the smallest loss.”
For a moment Pidge could do nothing but stare at him, jawagape. Then, she shook her head and said, “Keith, just know that I’m askingthis not to be mean, but as a concerned friend: are you out of your fuckingmind?”
Keith’s face fell into a glare. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, in what universe do you think you’d be a smallloss? No, no, let me talk,” she said, lifting her hand as Keith opened hismouth to object. “First of all, yeah, sure, we can all fight and fly, but notlike you. Shiro’s the only one who can match you when it comes to fighting, andas for flying? None of us hold a candle to you. They kept your high scores upat the Garrison even after you were expelled, and they made all the otherpilots look like total chumps. And next time we need to go darting through anasteroid field, who do you think is gonna be able to get through it besidesyou, huh? Me? Hunk? Fuck off.”
“Yeah, but – ”
“And let’s say, for sake of the argument, that youabsolutely sucked as a paladin. That you couldn’t pilot for shit and you couldn’tbeat a piñatain a fight. Guess what? I still wouldn’t wanna see you go up in flames inbattle. We like having you around, believe it or not.”
Keith stared at her. “Wait… what?”
“Yeah. I mean, you’re the only one whose presence I canstand when I just need some peace and quiet, since you don’t, like, talk much –and sometimes that’s nice, sometimes I just like having someone around to bequiet with. And Shiro just thinks you’re the light of his life, you know, thelittle brother following in his footsteps that he’s just oh so damn proud of.And you’re the only one who will ever eat Coran’s cooking, which is aridiculous superpower but it makes his day. And I don’t think Lance would workhalf as hard as he does in training if you weren’t around for him to try andshow up, so you’re, like, a good influence on him or something.”
“Oh…” Keith said. His expression was blank.
Pidge raised a brow at him. “Come on, you seriously didn’tthink we liked having you here?”
“I… I dunno.”
She frowned. “Well… we do. And none of us want to see youwind up hurt, or worse. Friends don’t let friends sacrifice themselves forstupid reason.”
“I just never…” Keith said carefully, “I never thought you –I mean, I’m not very good at – at being able to tell if – I figured you justkind of, thought of me… as your teammate, but, like that’s it. Not – not someoneyou would – I thought I kinda, you know… bothered you guys, or something…”
“So does Lance, but we still keep him around.”
Keith cracked a tiny hint of a smile. “I’m gonna tell him yousaid that.”
“Do it,” Pidge replied with a shrug. “I own my words. Butseriously, Keith. I – we – care aboutyou. And you can’t scare us like that, okay? I mean it. None of us want towatch you go through hell attempting to protect us.”
Keith winced. “Look, I get the sentiment, but, I mean – you can’texpect me to never get hurt in battles or anything. Or to not want to see youguys stay safe too.”
Pidge drummed her fingers against the table. “Okay, then,let me phrase this another way. I don’t want you to put yourself throughhell for us. I want you to put yourself through hell with us.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Look, Keith, I get it, we’re at war, sopeople are gonna get hurt, there are losses, all that junk. But we’re a teamnow, right? That means we’re supposed to get to protect you as much as you tryand protect us. More, probably, considering how much you seem to love throwingyourself into the line of fire.”
Keith took in a breath. “Pidge – ”
“And it also means,” Pidge cut him off,“That we split the risk. Okay? Next time we’re low on supplies, I don’t give afuck who you think ‘deserves’ it more or whatever, it’s gonna be split deadeven. It’s how teams work. Sharing is caring.”
She stood up and pushed her chair back, picking her plate upoff of the table. “Hopefully there won’t be a next time, but if there is, I don’twant it to end up going the same way this one did. We’re equals, we protecteach other equally, that’s the end of it. ‘Bout time you retired your littlelone wolf persona and embraced the pack. We’re teammates, yeah?” She held upher fist, and Keith stared at it. “Oh my God, Keith, you’re supposed to punchit, how do you not know – ”
“I know what a fist bump is!” Keith said, demonstrating saidfist bump irritably. “Just wasn’t sure that’s what you were going for.”
“Uh-huh. But do we have a deal? You’re gonna stop playingnoble hero and trying to protect us at every turn?”
“I – I can’t promise – ”
“You can try, at least. Promise you’ll try.”
Keith slowly managed to meet Pidge’s hopeful smile. “Yeah.Yeah, okay. I can try.”
#keith#pidge#voltronbingo#voltron fic#platonic kidge#Anonymous#fic: within walking distance#my writing
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OC/Reader x Joker - Your Insane Part 3
Hi guys, sorry its taking me so long to get my writing out! My life feels really busy, and yet I'm getting nothing done!
So here is the next part of this series! I am hoping that the next chapter will actually have the Joker in it! haha
Hope you Enjoy!
P.S I would appreciate it if you would leave a comment or something! I feel like my inbox is pretty lonely and I want to know if I should continue this series!
Also, if you have a request just send me a message saying what you want and I'll happily give it a go! Any fandom is welcome!
MASTERLIST
I sighed heavily as I tossed another document on my pile of completed papers to my right before then throwing my pen down next to them and rubbing in exhaustion at my face. I was already feeling the effects of my very early morning start. I peered through my fingers at the rest of the large hall filled with other people’s desks, craning around my good ol’ pillar to get a decent view. Most of the desks were still empty, but the room had slowly filled up since I had arrived in the early hours and a few people milled around, in no rush to start the day.
I dropped my hands and turned my aching eyes back on the still-to-do pile on my left. It was smaller, but it was still going to take most of the rest of the morning at least. I had got here early in an attempt to catch up on the intimidating pile of work I had been so kindly given yesterday. I had hoped that the sooner I got this paperwork out of the way, the soon I could get onto something more excited – or at least the sooner I got some free time to dig further into this Joker character. Plus, there couldn’t be anything wrong with showing I was willing to work hard for this job - earn some brownie points.
Every time the main door opened I found myself glancing around the pillar at it, watching the officers come in for their shift. I tracked the newest man now as he made his way across the large room, I didn’t know the man’s name yet but my procrastinating eyes followed him anyway, until a woman crossed his path and my eyes shifted to her instead as she strode back the way the man had come from. She didn’t exit the precinct, instead she took a left and disappeared down a short corridor before I heard a quiet thud as a door closed behind her. Bingo. That had been what I was waiting for.
I didn’t get up immediately. I didn’t want to seem too eager - after all Hatty had clearly only just come in. Miss Hatty Hawkins, the keeper of the files.
I was getting fidgety as the minutes ticked by, I didn’t want to rush in there as though I had been waiting for her to arrive – although I had been - but I also knew I had a limited amount of time to get what I needed.
I left it 20 agonising minutes before I felt safe to ‘causally’ wander in to the file room.
“Morning Miss Hawkins.” I smiled warmly as she bent over her desk, gathering up a pile of files. She glanced across at me, still bent over.
“Good morning, Fran.” She replied back formally, though not unkindly. She was a polite, rule follower, never questioning what her duties were or how to do them. This might be difficult.
I waited until she had finished her arrangement and had straightened back up. “What can I do for you this early?”
I gave her a small smile at her observation, “I just need all the files you’ve got on the Joker.” I said.
Hatty’s kindly face clouded over, a slight frown shadowing her face. “You know I can’t give you those, Fran, you’re not cleared for them.”
“Oh, no I know!” I said quickly, a look of surprise on my face at the suggestion that I would want them. “They’re not for me, they’re for Detective Bullock.” I explained.
“So why isn’t Detective Bullock here, picking them up?” She asked suspiciously.
I raised a single disbelieving eyebrow at her, “Come on, Hatty.” I said, “It’s Bullock. I haven’t been here all that long, and even I know what he’s like.” Of course, this was all I guess. I hadn’t been at the precinct that long, but I knew the Harvey Bullock character and I could predict his behaviours just from the few brief encounters I’d managed to get with him.
Hatty grimaced at the truth in words, nodding her head from side to side in agreement before she headed deeper into the recesses of the room. I waited patiently at the desk as I heard filing cabinet drawers slide up and shut and the flicker of paper as she thumbed through the folders. Eventually I heard her heals clicking back down the room towards me and she emerged once more clutching a small stack of files.
“These are all the cases he has been associated with.” She told me, handing the pile over, “Bullock already has his general information file.” She pointed out.
I thanked her and headed back to my desk, trying to make sure I was walking like I wasn’t stealing criminal documents.
I got about an hour with the files before Bullock appeared at my desk. I was quite impressed, I thought he wouldn’t be in for at least another half an hour. Maybe he hadn’t actually got drunk last night – as hard as that was to believe.
“According to Hawkins,” He said as he strolled up to my desk, “you have something for me.” He raised his eyebrows in expectation. “That you should have delivered hours ago.” He added with a grumble when I tried to look at him with blank innocence. I rolled my eyes, clearly having been caught and gathered up the files, handing them reluctantly over. “Congrats on your initiative.” He quipped, grabbing the papers from me, “Next time work on your punctuality.” He began to move away but paused, glancing back, “And stay away from this case.” He said grumbled. “I’m sick of saying it.”
I smirked at his back as strode away. “Tough luck Harv, your punctuality was no better.” I muttered quietly to myself once he was out of earshot. If he had actually come to work on time, he might have been able to stop me, but, despite my short time with the random patches of information, I felt like I had gathered something – even if it was just a snippet. Too bad I wouldn’t be able to pull that move again.
Several months later, I might have forgotten the Joker if there hadn’t been several identical hits on hospitals, one a week after the first attack, then several more scattered through the last few months.
But there had been no new information. No new leads. No better idea of what he was after. No idea why he was doing this.
And me? The months I had been working here? All I had been given was more paper work than I had ever had during my years at school. It was getting ridiculous. I knew I was a rookie, but I would be a rookie forever if they didn’t let me get some experience out in the field. The most I had got was a short bought of traffic work a few weeks ago thanks to staff shortage. Admittedly, I would take that over the huge stacks of paperwork that always appeared on my desk each day, but I still craved more.
I continued to try to work hard on the papers – hoping somehow it would prove my worth to the precinct. But I could feel my fuse burning out, and I was beginning to procrastinate more and more, my mind still turning to the unsolved case of the Joker. I didn’t care that I wasn’t on it - I had made my bed with that - but I hated how long it was taking these well experienced, weathered police officers. Why hadn’t they found anything? Surely they must have had some break through?
Yet I had still heard nothing about it - and I was keeping all my ears out for even a whisper relating to this mysterious criminal.
And so, my mind kept coming back to the hospital attacks. There was something odd about it all. All the attacks had been the exact same. He always created an explosion in a storage cupboard, then vanished into thin air before anyone could get close, always leaving a calling card behind in the form of a joker playing card.
I pulled my head away from the page of work I had been trying to read whilst these thoughts turned in mind. I had no idea what I had just supposedly read, and I pushed the folder away in frustration. Why the hospitals?! I demanded in my head, staring at the pillar directly in front of my desk. The Joker had even gone back to the hospitals he’d already attacked, and, even with the increased security, he had done the exact same thing in each of the wings – always escaping before anyone could catch more than a glimpse of him. It was like he was toying with us – like he was finding some perverse fun from all of this.
But that couldn’t only be it. He couldn’t be going through all this effort for ‘fun’. Sure, I might believe the psychopath capable of that if it was a one off, or a couple, but this was clearly following a pattern and something about it felt strategic.
I grabbed a notepad and scribbled out a list of everything from the crime scenes that I could remember was the same. The bombs. The cards. The storage room. The disappearing act.
I tried to justify each other point: He had to disappear, or he’d get caught. Tick. He needed the bombs to create enough distraction to escape. Tick. The playing cards were just his calling card, his signature to say it was all his work. Tick. The storage room. Why always a storage room? Easy place to plant the explosives and camp out till he was ready to set them off? Tick.
I pursed my lips in frustration, before turning my attention to the single drawer in my worn little desk. I pulled it open, extracting a very crumpled, well used piece of paper. I unfolded it, reading the word I knew off by heart, the few scraps of information I had gotten from the Joker’s folder before Harvey had taken it from me, I had written it from memory, though I knew I was missing things.
Most of what I had read, and memorised, was on the effects of his so called laughing gas. It wasn’t much to help me to track him down, but at least it was some information. It mainly listed the different subtypes of the gas the joker had produced, and the varying effects they had on people - some knock outs, some poisons, some instant, some slow, and painful. All had the same characteristic signs – uncontrollable laughing and a permanent grin left on the victims face at death.
This gas was fascinating – as much as it was nasty. This Joker character was quite a chemist. But it made me wonder how he did it. What was this gas?
Wait. Of course. The gas was made of multiple different chemicals. That means that he’d need a supply. Maybe he got them off the black market - maybe he stole them. Both were just as risky as the other.
But where were there always certain gases? Especially knockouts. Hospital storage rooms.
But it was only a suspicion. I needed some proof. There was nothing to say that he was stealing gas canisters. He might have just destroyed them all in the explosion and I was completely barking up the wrong tree. Maybe I was just thinking too much. Maybe he was just insane.
I needed to figure out what was in those storage cupboards and what was in that laughing gas.
It didn’t take much digging to find out what was in each storage room of the hospital – anaesthetic gas canisters, pure oxygen and – surprisingly – nitric oxide. I frowned at this piece of information – a toxic gas in a hospital cupboard? - but after further research I found an article published by the medical researchers at the Gotham General Hospital that said there was new medical research that suggested poisonous gases such as nitric oxide could be used in small doses to aid the healing of wounds.
My next question was, what was in this Joker venom? I only knew one place where I might get this information.
I knocked on the doorframe of the open doorway to the police lab. “Hello?” I called into the empty room.
“Eh huh?” I heard a man’s voice call back from somewhere.
I stepped in, glancing around for the source of the voice, taking in the chemical equipment lining the sides and the locked cupboards of chemicals. I was examining what appeared to be a slide of blood when I heard a cough behind me. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
I spun around to see a man with shaggy sandy hair in a lab coat, his hands clothed and stained. “Uh, yes. I need to ask a question.” I said.
“Shoot.” He said, folding his arms and leaning back on the counter behind him, dangerously closed to a corker beaker of yellow fluid.
I folded my arms and leant back on the table behind me, mimicking his posture. “What happens if you combine nitric oxide with the Joker’s toxin?” I asked outright - no good beating around the bush.
“You mean the Joker’s poisonous gas?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yep.”
The man eyed me suspiciously. He bowed his head before lifting his head to meet my eyes again. “Wouldn’t know,” He admitted. “No one know what is in that laughing gas.” He told “– except maybe batman.” He joked with a slight smile.
I played along, giving him a small smile. “What if I got you a sample?” I asked.
He frowned at me like I was joking. “Good one.” He smirked, “No one knows where his warehouses are or where he gets it from. It’s impossible to track down the source.”
“I can be very persistent.”
He quirked a half smile at me and I couldn’t help but think he looked pretty handsome, the light overhead catching in his curls. “You’re that new girl aren’t ya?” He asked, readjusting his seat on the counter.
“I wouldn’t say new anymore…” I teased him, “I’m Fran.” I said pushing myself off from the table, stepping toward the man and holding out my hand in greeting.
He smirked at my actions, before copying me, “Sam.” He said, gripping my hand firmly, but kindly.
I chatted with Sam for a while longer, though we didn’t touch any further on the Joker gas. I asked about some of the odd chemicals around the room and he let me rant about the frustrations of being confined to a desk.
I left the lab feeling slightly more cheerful – after all I felt I had finally made a friend at my work – though I hadn’t managed to get any further with my idea on the Joker’s toxin. I was however, still determined to get to the bottom of its components, even if I had to make the thing myself.
As I walked back to my desk I suddenly a hand grabbed my shoulder from behind and bring me to a halt, causing me to stumble back slightly. I glanced over my shoulder to the owner of the hand and came face to face with a familiar, rough beard and weathered features of Bullock.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, kid.” He warned, glaring down at me with suspicion in his eyes. “What did I tell you about digging into this?” he demanded, his tightening his grip and causing his fingers to bite into my skin.
I turned to face him fully, causing him to release my shoulder. “I don’t know what you mean, I was just chatting to Sam.” I said innocently, trying to ignore the ache left in my shoulder.
“Don’t think I don’t know that you’ve been sneaking around and eaves dropping.” He snapped.
I knew he wasn’t buying any act of mine. “Look, Harvey.” I began with a heavy sigh, “I really think I’m on to something now.” I insisted, pleading with him to hear me out.
“He’s insane kid, he’s not up to anything.”
“He’s not though! Don’t you get it – it’s an act!”
He snorted dismissively, “And how do you know this, hmm? Do you know this freak? Are you buddies? ‘Cause if so, speak up, you’d be the key to finally catching that psycho!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. I did saying anything, lowering my head in defeat. Harvey saw he was winning and pushed on, “Now, that man is a cold-blooded psychopath who doesn’t do anything for any reason other than to cause chaos and suffering.”
“But he’s doing something behind all these hospital hits!” I insisted, “– there is a purpose behind all of them!”
“If there was, don’t you think we would have found it by now?” Demanded Harvey. “Keep your nose out of things you know nothing about and stay away from this case - or I’ll have you permanently benched by the commissioner.” He warned.
“You can’t do that!” I cried out angrily.
“No,” He admitted, with a tilt of his head, “but I can get you benched for at least the year – an uncooperating, disobeying, mouthy little rookie like you – easy to convince that you’d be dangerous sin the field.” He pointed out, “And I’ll just suggest that a little time out would be just the right thing to teach you a lesson - I’m sure my good friend Commissioner Gordon would agree.” He said slyly. I stared at him hard, trying to find the bluff in his words, but the triumphant smirk on his face made me know I wouldn’t find anything. I sighed heavily, feeling deflated and beaten. Harvey patted my sore shoulder heavily before beginning to amble off to his desk.
“Oh.” He called, stopping and turning back to me, “By the way, kid - stop showing everyone up with your speedy paperwork - no one likes a teacher’s pet.” I scowled at his back as he strode away, pleased with himself.
Now I felt really deflated.
#joker x reader#reader x joker#oc x joker#joker x oc#reader/oc x joker#joker x reader/oc#your insane#joker#joker fan fiction#joker fanfic#joker fanfiction#joker x reader fan fiction#joker x reader fanfic#joker x reader fan fic#joker x oc fanfiction#joker x oc fanfic#joker x oc fan fic#thejokerenigma#thejokersenigma fanfic#the jokersenigma fan fiction#your insane part 3
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A spooky prompt where one of them ends up possessed? I leave the rest to you babe
this excites me!!
I'm gonna do the Supernatural version of possession as im a massive spn nerd fan hope that’s cool!
xx
Prompts are temporarily closed for the time being! Thank you all for your submissions, I’ll be posting the ones I have in my inbox asap!
If it were anyone but Phil, Dan might never have noticed a difference.
Dan can be a little self-involved at the best of times, so if one of his other friends changed their manner of speaking, or began dressing in an unusual way, or stopped eating as much, or did anything that even slightly deviated from their normal routine, Dan’s not sure he would pick up on it.
But he spends every day with Phil. He knows every little thing about the guy, from the side of his mouth he starts brushing with the toothbrush first, to what theme song he’s most likely to be humming when he first wakes up.
It’s honestly a little creepy, how well he knows Phil Lester. He finds himself having to play it down in front of other people, because they would undoubtedly find it more than a little odd. After all, it’s not like he and Phil are married. They’re just close friends.
So when Phil doesn’t come back for almost three hours after he told Dan he would one evening, after a meet up with his brother in town, it’s not all that surprising that Dan begins to worry.
He texts Phil three times. He calls him. He leaves two voicemails.
It does nothing to quell Dan’s anxiety that Phil doesn’t respond to any of them.
Eventually, when Phil does roll in at around nine in the evening, he expects a fantastical story and a long, detailed explanation of how Phil had been roped into a weird drama with some stranger or other, or how he’d clumsily dropped his phone into the Thames.
Instead, Phil just gives some vague answers to Dan’s questions, rolls his eyes at Dan’s ‘dramatic overreaction’ and slinks off to his room. He doesn’t re-emerge for the whole night, even though they’d made plans to watch the next episode of Bake Off together.
After that, it only gets stranger.
Phil begins leaving the house for unexplained, prolonged periods, never bothering to tell Dan where he’s going. He barely speaks to Dan when he is around, and there’s something odd about his voice when he does. It still sounds like him, but the lexicon is wrong, like he’s forgotten how he used to construct sentences. He sounds too formal now, like he’s speaking with a total stranger.
Dan begins to worry that he’s hiding something big. Perhaps something has happened, some family tragedy that’s preoccupying his brain. But Dan can’t help but think that, if this were the case, Phil would surely tell him.
They tell each other everything. They haven’t kept a secret from each other in years - it’s just easier that way. Besides, they’ve gotten to a point in their friendship where they’re pretty sure there’s nothing that could tear them apart.
One night, Dan makes dinner, and keeps it in the oven on a low heat until Phil gets home from wherever he is.
As soon as the door clicks, Dan jumps off the sofa, ambushing Phil in the hallway before he can disappear into his room for the night.
“I made spaghetti.” Dan blurts at him as Phil removes his shoes.
From the way Phil reacts to the information, it seems as though he’s never even heard of his favourite dish. “Oh.”
“Come and eat.” Dan commands, walking back towards the kitchen before he can listen to whatever excuse he’s sure Phil is about to make.
Phil follows after a while, a bored expression on his face as Dan hands him a hot, steaming plate of spaghetti bolognese. Phil stares down at the food, his nose crinkling in distaste.
“I didn’t put cheese in, so don’t bitch at me.” Dan says with a chuckle. Phil raises an eyebrow, and takes the fork Dan hands to him.
He follows Dan out to the dining room table, sitting down after some hesitation, probably because he’s not sure what else to do.
Dan looks at him for a moment, then decides to just try and be normal. He digs in, winding the spaghetti around his fork and pushing it into his mouth. It’s delicious, he must say. He’s no Gordon Ramsay, but Dan knows how to make a damn good bolognese.
After a while, Dan glances up at Phil to see if he’s enjoying it too. The fork lies motionless beside Phil’s plate, his food untouched.
Dan pauses, registering this with some concern. “Don’t tell me you’re not hungry.”
Phil shrugs, glancing around the room, disinterested. “Guess not.”
Dan places his fork down, staring at him. “Have you even eaten anything today?”
Phil smirks at him. It’s an unusual expression to see on his face. “Why would I eat if I’m not hungry?”
Dan just stares more, perplexed. “To keep you alive, for starters?” Phil laughs, shaking his head pityingly. “Besides, you love food. You’re a self-admitted ‘secret eater’. Is something wrong? Are you sick?”
Phil grins, unnaturally wide. For some reason, it sends the hairs on the back of Dan’s neck upright. “On the contrary, I’ve never, never felt this good.”
“Right.” Dan mutters, turning his attention back to his plate.
He picks up his fork again, at a loss for what more to say. His own appetite has dwindled though, and he just twirls the fork around, playing with loose strands of pasta. What once seemed like a delicious, sauce-covered carb-fest, now seems like a lukewarm, slimy pile of congealing worms. He lowers his fork again, disgusted.
He’s just about to push his plate away, when he sees something move. He peers closely into the depths of the spaghetti, trying to work out if he’s hallucinating. No, there’s definitely something moving in there.
The thought of it turns his stomach, and Dan pales. He peers closer, trying to see into the mass of spaghetti.
All of sudden, he realises that it’s all moving, every strand, all of it wriggling and squirming about, just like-
“Holy shit,” Dan cries, clapping a hand over his mouth. He’s seconds away from puking. “Is that-”
“Wow,” Phil says, tutting. Dan glances up; he’s reclining on his chair, tilting backwards a little on the hind legs, watching him with that same smirk. “No wonder I’m not hungry. You’re trying to serve me worms.”
Dan shoves his plate away, terrified. What the fuck is going on?
“Is this a fucking nightmare?” He asks, feeling dizzy with nausea.
Phil cackles, scooting his chair a little closer to Dan, moving around the side of the table so that they’re sat together.
“You know, in a way I guess it kind of is, Dan.” Phil tells him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Even through the fabric of his t-shirt Dan can feel how cold he is - unnaturally so. He flinches away, scooting backwards.
It doesn’t make sense, but he feels scared of Phil right now. Why on earth would he be scared of his own best friend?
“What’s- what’s going on, Phil?” Dan asks, eyes flicking left and right, searching for an escape.
“Oh, aren’t you sweet.” Phil says, picking up Dan’s discarded fork and licking the tines clean. It makes Dan shudder; how can he do that, knowing it was just covered in worms? “Philly’s not really able to answer right now, I’m afraid.”
Dan balks at him, wondering if Phil has lost his mind.
He glances down at the plate of spaghetti, and sees no trace of the wriggling worms from a moment ago. Which makes him wonder if it’s him that’s losing his mind.
Phil’s left hand is splayed out on the table and his right grips the fork by its handle. In one, fast, decisive movement, he brings the fork swishing through the air, stabbing the four prongs right into the back of his own left hand.
“What the fuck!” Dan exclaims, jumping forwards to grab Phil by his wrist.
It’s too late though, the fork is already penetrating Phil’s flesh, pushed in so deep that Dan wonders if he’ll be able to pull it free. Blood bubbles to the surface at once, dribbling out from the holes into which the metal tines are wedged, trickling over his hand and onto the table beneath.
“Phil, fuck, why did you-” Dan cries, flapping his own hands because he has no idea what to do. “What should we-”
Belatedly, Dan realises that Phil hasn’t made the slightest noise throughout all of this. He hasn’t so much as whimpered in pain. Warily, Dan drags his eyes up to meet Phil’s, and he immediately jumps backwards, knocking over his chair in his haste to get away.
Phil’s eyes are jet black. From corner to corner, they are completely, opaquely onyx. Two black holes staring out from beneath his windswept fringe.
He cocks his head to one side, smiling. He appears to be observing Dan, nothing more.
Dan’s gaze jumps from between the fork sticking out of his skin, to the terrifying lack of Phil’s usual Bambi-blue irises in those monstrous eyes.
“Your eyes...” Dan chokes out, feeling his own eyes start to sting in fear.
All of a sudden, his chair is upright, facing Phil, and Dan is shoved down into it by some unseen force. He tries to move, to wriggle even, but he can’t. It’s as if he’s tied to it somehow.
Phil pouts in mock-sadness, his lower lip jutting out, and he nods. “Scary isn’t it, Dan?” He says, then smirks at Dan’s expression. “Phil’s eyes are a little prettier than mine, I suppose.”
He blinks then, and suddenly Phil’s eyes are normal again, that same baby blue peeping out as if it had never left.
Dan stares at him, trying to piece together what he’s hearing. “You’re... not Phil.”
The not-Phil smiles, toothily, and winks at Dan in a way Phil never would.
“Caught on at last.”
“Who are you?” Dan manages to choke out, though he’s not sure he wants to know.
The not-Phil sighs, leaning back in his chair. “More a question of what, really.”
Dan waits, not trusting himself to speak.
“I’m a demon, Dan.” It says, watching him carefully.
Dan struggles not to scream. His heart pounds incessantly. The demon smiles.
“You’re possessing Phil,” Dan deduces, swallowing around his tight throat in terror.
“Bingo,” the demon says. “He’s a very comfy vessel, too. Tight. Warm. Soft.”
“Get out of him.” Dan spits, anger rippling over his skin. “Leave him alone. He’s never done anything wrong.”
The demon places a hand over Phil’s heart - the one with the fork still jutting out - and sighs. “So sweet. So caring for your bestie.” The demon licks its lips, surveying Dan silently. “He’s in here, you know. He can hear what you’re saying. He’s been screaming at you to notice I’ve taken control for days.”
“I’ll get you out, Phil.” Dan says, his voice raising. “I will, I’ll do something, I’ll-”
“Shh, shh.” The demon interrupts, and Dan’s mouth clamps shut of its own accord, not listening to him as he tries to prise it open. “All that gushy stuff is so boring. And you’ve just started to capture my interest, Danny.”
He releases Dan’s mouth, at last, and Dan gasps, rolling his jaw around. “What do you want from him?”
The demon makes a ‘hmm’ noise, tilting back on his chair again. “Good question. You see, the thing is Dan, us demons are getting kind of... bored, as of late. There’s just not a whole lot to do nowadays. People are smarter. They know not to practise witchcraft, or use ouija boards. Sure, you get some dumb ones now and then, but mostly it’s just kind of...” The demon flaps his hands, then shrugs. “Dull.”
“So you’re possessing a random, innocent guy for the kicks?”
“No,” the demon sighs. “This is not a random decision, Dan. I chose your best friend very carefully. I did a lot of research before entering him. I don’t take these possessions lightly, you know.”
“So you did it because, what, he’s YouTube famous?” Dan asks. “There are tons of YouTubers. Plenty who deserve a demon inside them more than Phil. Why didn’t you climb inside Sam Pepper? I doubt anyone would even notice.”
The demon cackles again, and Dan cringes. “How do you know Sam Pepper isn’t already possessed?”
Dan hadn’t considered this. He shrugs the thought away, deciding he can think about that later.
“It’s not just because he’s a YouTuber.” The demon says, smiling wickedly. “Though it’s to do with that. It’s about your fans, Dan. Both of your fans. They’re so committed to you. They’d do anything either of you would say. They cling to your every word, they throw themselves at your feet, they spend thousands of dollars to wear your names on their clothes, or to play the games you invent, or to send you a message that they know you’ll see.”
Dan listens, despising the way the demon is framing this. “You make it sound like Phil and I are the leaders of some kind of- of-”
“Cult?” The demon supplies, grinning too wide. Dan says nothing, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, that is sort of how it seems, isn’t it? And oh boy do I love a good cult.”
It’s sickening, watching this come out of Phil’s mouth, but Dan forces himself to pay attention, to act like it’s not his best friend’s face with his eyes closed in pleasure at the idea of thousands of people being manipulated into mass suicide.
“When cults get it right, they’re just... delicious to watch.” The demon says, licking along Phil’s lower lip. “All those people, willingly trundling to their own deaths just because of a few cleverly worded speeches, and a dash of false hope...” The demon’s eyes open, flashing black for the briefest of moments. “That’s the most dangerous thing in the world, you know, Dan. Hope.”
“Our fans are not going to do whatever Phil tells them to do.” Dan says firmly. “You’d have to be an idiot to listen to a fucking YouTuber when making life decisions. Our fans are not stupid. They know that Phil is just a regular guy who films stupid things in his bedroom.”
The demon laughs, that pitying look in his eyes again when he looks at Dan.
“Oh Danny,” he sighs, the nickname making Dan’s skin prickle. “You underestimate their devotion to you. Besides, it’s already working.”
“What?” Dan asks, paling.
“I started out small, of course.” The demon shrugs, getting out his - Phil’s - phone. “Tweeted some things. Asked them for a few favours. Look, here’s one I did today.”
He holds up the phone for Dan to see. There are two tweets on the screen, from AmazingPhil’s account.
@AmazingPhil Hey guys! Thanks for sending all the pics of your cute dogs yesterday! I have a different request for today o.O [1/2]
@AmazingPhil Take your dogs for a walk somewhere you’ve never been! The quieter the better. Bonus round: if you see a stranger, make friends! Everyone wants to be talked to! Good luck! [2/2]
Dan’s mouth falls open, and his stomach plunges to his knees. “Oh my God. The average age of our fans are fourteen to seventeen.”
The demon giggles, nodding excitedly. “How many teenage girls do you think will have gone missing by tomorrow?”
“Fuck,” Dan whispers.
“I’ve done some other stuff too. Brainwashing fans on the street, encouraging them to explore old abandoned houses, or wander into dangerous parts of town, that kind of thing.” The demon sighs happily. “It’s going well, I think I’m getting the hang. I’ve worked out how to sound just like him! I’m thinking of making a video tomorrow asking for some help taking down a few of the more popular YouTubers. You know, spamming their channels with hate, spreading rumours about them sexually assaulting people, all that stuff.”
“That’s so evil.” Dan says, horrified.
The demon looks at him oddly. “Uh, I’m a demon, Dan. Evil’s in the description.”
“I’ll stop you.” Dan whispers, his eyes glistening. He means every word, though. “I don’t care if it kills me, I’ll stop you.”
“Aw,” the demon says, pitying. “No you won’t, Danny. Cos I’m gonna keep you under wraps until I need you! And when I do, I can keep you from saying anything I don’t want you to, like this!”
Dan’s mouth clamps itself shut again. He struggles, trying to open it, but it’s useless. The demon giggles, releasing him.
“Then Phil will stop you,” Dan hisses, his jaw clicking as it unsticks itself. “You said yourself he’s in there with you. He can fight it. He can stop you from doing this.”
The demon stands then, a slow smile spreading over Phil’s lips as it crowds into Dan’s space. Phil’s hands press into Dan’s shoulders as Phil’s face moves towards his.
In a different context, Dan doesn’t know how this might make him feel. Being close to Phil, in a physical sense, has always been confusing. He used to think that it was because his mind didn’t know how to separate close friendship from romantic feeling, but recently he’s been wondering if it’s something more than that.
Perhaps the real reason Dan never allows himself to linger too long in a hug with Phil, or to keep their arms linked past a brief thirty seconds or so, or let Phil sleep on his shoulder during long flights or train rides is more to do with the fact that Phil’s eyes are a sharp, penetrating cobalt blue. Perhaps it’s because Phil smells like cinnamon buns and cherry blossom trees. Perhaps it’s because Phil is witty, and he’s kind and loyal. Perhaps it’s because he’s intimidatingly clever, and everyone loves him the second they meet him in a way Dan envies.
Suddenly, there’s a weight piling into Dan’s lap, and he holds his breath when he sees his best friend’s figure towering above him, one knee either side of Dan’s legs on the chair.
He swallows, forgetting for a moment that this is not Phil, not really. His hands move instinctively to Phil’s hips. Then, Phil’s eyes flash black. Dan’s hands snatch themselves away.
The demon laughs.
“So you think Philly can fight his way out? Honestly, it’s kind of sweet how you two think of one another.” The demon says, smirking cruelly as he stares straight into Dan’s eyes. “I can read all of Phil’s thoughts, you know. D’you wanna know one of his deepest secrets, Dan?”
“Get. Out.” Dan says, wishing he could move to push the demon off him.
The demon ignores him, grinning again. “He loves you, Dan.”
Dan’s heart stutters. His mouth parts. He tries not to react, because it’s what the demon wants, but he can’t help it.
“He loves you with every inch of his poor little heart.” The demon continues, sighing. “A shame really. He’ll never get to tell you that himself.”
“You’re lying.” Dan says, his eyes already stinging with tears.
The demon shakes its head, slowly. “Cross my heart! Well, Phil’s heart. He’s loved you since he met you. Since you kissed him on the Manchester Eye, all timid and bashful.” The demon reaches out to pinch Dan’s cheek, hard. “Adorable.”
“Phil,” Dan whispers, looking into the eyes he knows so well, trying to see through them into the depths of Phil’s soul, to find the piece of him still lurking inside. “Phil, I didn’t know...”
“Ugh!” The demon cries out. “What did I say about the gross schmaltzy stuff? Do you want me to clamp your mouth shut, Dan?”
The demon climbs off his lap, rolling its eyes, and releases the invisible bonds tying Dan to the chair. Dan immediately stands, dumbstruck by the use of his limbs again, not sure what to do now that he has them back.
The demon sighs at him, folding its arms. “Well, fun’s over I guess. Wanna be locked in your room till I need you? In the bathroom?”
Dan takes a step towards him, not sure of his plan. He crowds into the demon’s space, making it frown in confusion.
“Phil,” Dan says hurriedly, knowing he only has seconds before the demon clamps his mouth shut again. “I know you’re strong enough to beat this bitch, okay? You’re the best, bravest, most incredible person I’ve ever met. And I love you too. Obviously.”
The demon rolls its eyes dramatically, lifting its hand to do some weird demon magic, but Dan acts fast, slamming his lips into Phil’s before it knows what’s coming. The demon struggles at first, not expecting it, but Dan just kisses and kisses, trying to reach into the depths of Phil’s mind with his own - to use the strange connection that has tethered them to one another for all these years and haul him out of the depths.
It doesn’t happen right away, but Dan can sense, even as he kisses the cold lips of his best friend - the lips that are so Phil, and yet so not-Phil that it makes his head hurt - that the demon is struggling with something internal.
He doesn’t push Dan off, though he could, quite easily, were he at full power, Dan is sure. Instead, he seems distracted, muffled noises escaping from his mouth as he battles something unseen.
Then, so fast it’s a little terrifying, Phil rears back, gasping. He throws his head back, and screams as a viscous stream of black smoke pours out of his mouth and disappears through the ceiling.
A minute or so passes, Dan watching in alarm, and then Phil collapses onto the floor. Dan throws himself down beside him, taking Phil by the shoulders and trying to shake him awake.
After a while, Phil blinks sleepily, swimming back into consciousness.
“Dan?” He croaks.
Dan lets out a laugh of relief, but it comes out more like a sob. “Hey,” he says through his tears, his hand cradling Phil’s face. “Hey, it’s me. Is that you in there, Phil?”
Phil nods, looking exhausted. “What’s- what’s going on?”
Dan pales, realising that Phil has no idea what he’s doing on the floor. Which means... he likely doesn’t remember any of being possessed.
Or... anything else.
Dan swallows. It’s not important right now, he tells himself. “Nothing. It’s okay, you’re just... tired. I’m gonna take you to bed, okay?”
Phil nods, seeming confused, but allows Dan to help him to his feet.
After some quick, improvised first aid on Phil’s hand (the fork had fallen out somewhere in the midst of the demon exiting Phil’s body, thank God), Dan slings Phil’s bandaged hand over his shoulders. With some stumbles and unsteadiness, they make it to Phil’s room, and Dan tucks him under the covers fully clothed, not prepared to divest him of clothes after everything that just occurred.
“Okay,” he says, switching off Phil’s bedside light. They’ll talk about it in the morning, Dan tells himself. “Night, then.”
He turns to the door, sighing.
“Where are you going?” Phil asks, sounding bewildered.
Dan turns back towards him, not understanding. “To bed.”
“You tell me you love me, then want to sleep in your own bed?” Phil asks.
Dan’s heart skips a beat. What?
“You... remember that?”
“Pretty hard to forget something that big.”
“But...” Dan protests, not sure why he’s even arguing at this point. “On the floor just now, you acted like you didn’t know why you were- like you didn’t remember-”
“I only remember bits from the last few days.” Phil says, sounding confused still. “I remember not being able to move my body. Being trapped. I remember shouting at you for help but you couldn’t hear me.”
“Yeah,” Dan whispers, trying to imagine how awful that must have been. “Um-”
“I remember you kissing me.” Phil says then, a smile clear in his voice.
Dan chuckles, shifting on the spot. “Um, yeah, that er... that happened.”
“I couldn’t kiss you back though.” Phil tells him, sounding sad.
Dan clears his throat. “We could... try again, maybe.” Dan cringes at his own words, wishing he wasn’t so bad at this. “I mean, if you want.”
There’s a silence, and Dan wishes he could hoover the words back up into his mouth.
“Come here.” Phil says at last, the urgency of it piercing through the darkness.
Dan goes to him, obediently, clambering under the covers beside him. He lets Phil wrap his arms around his waist, lets himself be pulled in.
Even in the darkness, there’s no doubt that it’s Phil now, Dan thinks to himself, placing a hand over Phil’s stuttering heart.
“We should, um, get some protection.” Dan says without thinking.
Phil laughs awkwardly. “Uh, I mean, sure. I’m kind of tired right now though...”
Dan flushes deeply, covering his face with one hand. God, he’s a twat.
“No, no, I mean- fuck.” Dan shakes his head, marvelling at his own stupidity. “I mean like, anti-possession stuff. Sage. Little charms. Tattoos, maybe.”
“Oh,” Phil chuckles, “right. Yeah. Okay. Um, why?”
Dan pauses, realising that Phil doesn’t really know what happened, still.
“Just trust me.”
Phil leans in then, kissing him softly, sweetly, but so deeply, and with such intensity that it leaves Dan reeling.
“I do,” Phil tells him, smiling.
#SO FUN TO WRITE#sorry it's so long#spn crossover kinda#demonic possession#prompts#scary#spooky#graphic#demons#gore#anon#ellen answers
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State of the Fic
Week Thirteen
Upcoming POST SCHEDULE
Safe and (the) Sound, Chapter 16 on the 28th
Riding in Cars with Boys (Communal Kitchen stand alone smut for Tony’s birthday) on the 29th
Fertile Ground, Chapters 9 & 10 on the 31st
Safe and (the) Sound, Chapter 17 on the 1st of June
Holiday Spending, (Folding) Paper Anniversary - June 2
(this does NOT include any possible/potential prompts that I work on between now and then)
Projects I worked on this week
Winter in Iron Valley (winteriron) – 3,297 Old West AU. Been plugging away at this fairly steadily this week. Am most of the way through Chapter 10, thinking it’s going to end up being a bit longer than originally anticipated because I have some dangling plot threads.
Breakfast Club - 2,182 Scrapped about 1,400 words of pointless arguments and filled in with a better transition. I think this is finally complete now. Have talked to my artist and the story will be going live on June 12th (it’s like 4 chapters, so I might start posting on June 8th to divide it up a bit.) complete
First I Commit a Crime (and Then You Get To Blame Me For It) - 3,940 Stuckony / Sinbad mash-up fic. I finally finished writing the two sex scenes. Artist claims open on the 8th of June, but since I’m ALREADY DONE writing, all this needs is an editing. complete
Lift Your Eyes and Let Me In (’Cause Baby I’m an Alien Like You) - 1,896 Starklord short story. I had a lot of fun writing this, it was adorable and fluffy. I’m considering a sequel short called And Tell Me Did Venus Blow Your Mind
(Was it everything you wanted to find) complete
Lord of the Swings - 515 words complete a Sandbridge short story, finished it off, what happens on Steve’s birthday. Will post alongside the regular Safe and (the) Sound chapters on the 4th of July.
Total words: 11,830 words for the week
Projects in the works that I did NOT work on this week but are still active and on my to-do list
To Victor Goes the Spoils (IronDoom) -- the Victor/Tony story that I can’t stay away from (thanks to everyone for reminding me that this accidentally fell off the list. OMG, y’all, I’m glad so many people are excited about that fic that they were WORRIED when it fell off the list. like 15 of you all sent me frantic emails about it! Don’t worry, I will finish this story)
Holiday Spending (winteriron) -- July’s chapter
Where the light enters (drarry) – Draco asks Harry to help him with his Dark Mark
Next Thursday Night – (winteriron) AU with teacher!Bucky and Moping!Tony get together for a series of one night stands
Captain and the Consequences – (winter soldier & Tony Stark) deaged Tony and the Winter Soldier team up to teach the rest of the Avengers just how bad they fucked up
I’ve done some cleaning of my inbox; people who were not anonymous received their prompts back if I’ve decided not to do them. That’s not personal; I try very hard to do the best job possible with the prompts I get. I almost never “phone it in” so to speak. So if I didn’t think I could do justice to your prompt, I won’t do it.
I have 10 prompts in my inbox for a variety of pairings (and a LOT of smut requests, thanks y’all!) nothing in my Clint/Coulson queue and 4 claimed prompts for Imagine Tony & Bucky (and one of those is Lord of the Swings, which will post around July 4th, because of scheduling)
I also have several prompts for a Stony Bingo Card that I’m working on (sort of...)
It is 2:23 pm on Friday and I have done JACK SHIT all day :D (but I also went out a few times this week and did social stuff, so that’s good!)
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