#;ill finish the next installment....eventually...

[waywardxrhea]

Wait For It - Bucky Barnes

Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!medic!Reader

installment list / next chapter

word count: ~3.8k

Story warnings: war, violence, loss of limb, mental illness, medical talk and mentions of treatment, language, drinking, eventual smut, pregnancy scare, complex family dynamics, explosives. there’s fluff too i swear!

A sharp ringing sound filled your ears as you blinked hard to try and combat the dizziness that sent your head spinning. Small fires occupied areas of the house, quickly filling the area with smoke that permeated your lungs and made it hard to breathe. Pain filled your entire body and made it hard to even think as you tried to fight the urge to close your eyes. 

Your heart raced as you looked around and flinched away from what looked like a snake on the ground. Focus! You needed to get out of there. When you blinked again, a small fire had taken over whatever had been on the ground, and you knew that if you didn’t move fast, the fire would claim you too. You needed to get out of there. You needed to get the Commander out of there. 

Looking around, you saw the table he had been on overturned with half of the wood missing, decimated by the explosion. “Commander Walsh!” you shouted as loudly as you could into the burning hellscape that surrounded you. 

You snapped out of the memory as you heard your name being called out by one of the EMTs who was just about finished loading up the ambulance to head out to a scene on the highway just a few miles away. "Right, sorry. Let's go," you said, shaking the memory from your head as you turned off the news and began heading toward the garage.

"Not to pry, but…are you okay to go to this one?" Mariana asked sympathetically as you settled into the passenger seat of the ambulance. "The shift's almost over, I'm sure you could call the other paramedic on early."

"I'll be fine," you told her quietly.

In reality, you weren't sure how fine you would be going to a scene that was just cleared of explosives and gunfire. You hadn't seen action since that fateful day when you lost the lower half of your right leg to an IED, and truth be told, you were nervous. But there were injured people, and they were who you swore to serve and care for when you went through your civilian paramedic training.

When you got on the scene and began surveying the damage, you were on high alert. You jumped at every sound that was out of the ordinary, from shifting metal to concrete hitting the ground as remnants of the highway structure fell. When a hand came in contact with your arm, you tensed up and your heart started pounding in your chest as you quickly turned to see who it was. "I'm sorry, but my grandmother was on the bus with me, and I didn't see her get out! I think she's still in there!" said the young woman who had some scratches adorning her cheeks from glass cutting her.

"I'll head in there and see, thank you," you told her, letting out the breath you had been holding since she touched you.

As you stepped onto a ruined bus, the woman's suspicions were confirmed as you saw an older woman on the ground, bleeding from her head. With glass crunching under your boots, you made your way over to her. Crouching down beside the woman, you tried to gently rouse her by tapping on her cheek, but you only got a quiet moan in response. As you visually assessed her further, you pulled your walkie off your belt, and said, "Mariana, I'm gonna need some help in the bus. Roughly 80-year-old woman with a head laceration. Not rousing. I'll need the stretcher and a c-collar for transport."

"On it," she replied to you, taping down the gauze dressing on a different victim's arm laceration before heading toward the ambulance to grab a stretcher from the back.

By the time you and the other medics had transported victims to the hospital, there had been another mass casualty event at a government building. So, instead of getting off as the other shift came on, all of you worked together to treat victims at the scene and transport those who needed it to the hospital. One of those victims being Captain America himself, Steve Rogers.

After you hauled him off of the ambulance and into the emergency department, you came face to face with one of your closest friends: Sam Wilson. "I see you've still got some fight in you, huh, Falcon?" you asked. "When I saw on the news that you were involved, I was worried when I didn't see you at the scene. Didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, if I'm honest."

"Didn't turn out too bad for me. Wish I could say the same about Steve…" he said quietly as he watched his friend disappear into a room to be treated.

"What happened?"

"I would say that's classified, but everything's out there now. If you really wanna know, just look up HYDRA when you get home," he said. He took in your disheveled look before joking, "And you better be getting home soon. You look like hell."

"As if you look any better," you teased him with a roll of your eyes.

He chuckled before asking, "Work a 24?"

Looking at your watch, you told him warily, "It's going on about a 32 right now."

"Get home!" he said as he turned you back toward the ambulance bay and Mariana, who was waiting at the door for you.

"Ooh, who was that?" she asked in a teasing tone as the two of you made your way back into the ambulance.

"Friend from the VA. He runs the meetings I go to for vets," you told her as you buckled yourself in. "After the falling out with my mom in the hospital, I had no one visiting me, so the VA sent him to get me outta my slump. Really gave me some perspective and motivated me to get better. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him and Commander Walsh."

"Commander Walsh, wasn't that the guy you…?" she asked tentatively.

"Yeah, he's the one I pulled out of the building. After I recovered and was through with PT, he offered to pay for my civilian paramedic license. Told me that I had a knack for saving people," you replied quietly. "He's been trying to get me to join a private medic service he's starting up. Wants me to be the lead medic. I heard from the guy who was with me in Afghanistan that he was joining up, too."

"Really? That's great!" Mariana said excitedly. "Are you considering it?"

"Maybe after I'm done with this contract. I feel like I owe him for all he's done for me." You sighed as you looked out the window, your eyes squinting from the brightness of the setting sun. "Being lead paramedic does sound nice, but it's also a lot of responsibility. I feel like Manny's the one for that job, not me. I've only been doing the whole civilian thing for a year. I think I need some more experience before I go off and do something like that."

"Contract's almost over, that could be exciting! I think you'll do great no matter what you decide! Just remember us EMTs if Walsh needs any more hands on his team!"

"Thanks, Mari, I'll keep that in mind if I accept the offer," you said, a small smile lining your lips as you relaxed into the headrest of the passenger seat.

By the time you were finally able to head home, you could barely keep your eyes open as you drove to your apartment. Sure, there were places to sleep at the station when you weren't on a call, but the naps over the last shift were few and far between. That was the thing about working as a paramedic in the DC area - there was always something. You and the other paramedic had a routine established to go back and forth between calls so either one of you could rest, but when days like today happened, there was little rest to be found.

After turning the corner to get onto the road leading to your apartment, you slammed on the breaks and did a double take into the bushes lining the road. There was a man laying on the ground and he wasn't moving. Please just be napping, you thought to yourself as you threw the car into park and turned on your hazard lights. "Sir, are you okay?" you called out loudly. He was breathing at least, so that was a good sign… As you approached the man, though, concern filled your mind as you saw a trail of blood leading up to his body.

"Shit…" you whispered as you pulled out your phone and readied yourself to call for help. You froze, though, as you looked at the man's face and registered it as familiar. You knew that face from your extensive studies of World War II. You had just seen it in the Howling Commandos exhibit at the Smithsonian when you went with Mariana on an off day. The man in front of you was James Buchanan Barnes, who was a POW during the war and was saved by Captain America himself. The two were best friends and enlisted to fight alongside each other. It was reported by Rogers that Barnes had fallen off of a train during a mission, and his body was never recovered. Yet here he was on the ground in front of you.

Unsure of just how the hell you would explain finding a missing soldier from 1945 to the hospital, you decided to take him back to your place for the time being. You had supplies to treat him there, and you would have time to figure things out once he woke up. Taking a closer look at him, you realized that his left arm was a prosthetic - shining silver with a red star on the shoulder. He must have gotten it because the fall from the train. You also noted bleeding from a large gash in his abdomen, along with several superficial cuts and bruises littering his body.

There was no way you would be able to carry him all the way to your car, so you hurried back to it and pulled onto the grass, hoping that no one would report you for driving off the road… After getting a pressure dressing on his abdomen, you lined the back seat with a blanket you had in the trunk to at least attempt to protect your seats. You then spent a minute contemplating how you would get him in the car, ending up leveraging yourself to pull him into the seat without lifting him too much. "This is so much harder without a stretcher…" you muttered as you climbed out of the other side and closed the doors before getting back into the driver's side to head home.

It took a lot of effort and a suspicious looking grocery wagon covered with a blanket being hauled into the elevator, but you finally got Barnes into your apartment to treat him. Thankfully, most everyone in the building was either eating dinner or already turned in for the night, or else you would have gotten a lot of questions from your neighbors.

Within minutes, the living room was turned into a field medic station as you readied all the supplies you needed to treat him. As soon as you had everything prepped, you got to work, pulling off the pressure dressing to get a better look at the wound. When you laid eyes on it once more, your eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. You could have sworn the gash was bigger when you first saw it… You must have mistaken it for a different wound you saw over the course of your last shift… What you knew he needed, though, was blood and fluids.

You got an IV started in his right arm and began infusing some saline into his vein to get fluid into him until you could get him some blood. As you inflated a blood pressure cuff on your arm to act as a tourniquet so you could stick yourself, you felt like you were back in Afghanistan, taking care of a downed soldier. This wouldn't be the first time you did a buddy transfusion, far from it. You were one of the few in the platoon who had O-negative blood and could donate to anyone, and Manny had always joked that you were born to be a medic. So, as the saline dripped into his vein, you let a unit of blood drain from your body into a bag to give to him. By the time you had hung a second bag of saline to drip with the blood, Barnes was starting to stir awake, but not for more than a few seconds at a time before he became still again.

Exhaustion was taking over your body, but you couldn't just let him wake up in a strange place without some sort of explanation, so after changing into a more comfortable outfit of sleep shorts and a t-shirt, you busied yourself with meal prepping for the week. You started with cutting up a bag of baby potatoes and seasoning them with rosemary, Italian seasoning, garlic, and butter, before popping those into the oven to get a head start on baking. Next was chicken breasts, which you had been marinading in a lemon pepper sauce since the last time you were home. After that, you worked on some green beans and dinner rolls. Your next shift wasn't for another few days, but having meals ready was always a benefit for when you didn't want to eat out all the time when you were working.

Between the dishes, curiosity had gotten the better of you, and you looked up what Sam had told you to at the hospital. Turned out that the scene on the highway and the government building incident were connected and conducted by an organization called HYDRA. They had apparently infiltrated SHIELD and for years had been terrorizing the world, causing mass chaos.

While filtering through the files, you found one on Barnes. Maybe it contained the answers to the questions you had been asking since you found him on the side of the road.

Unbeknownst to you, though, he was beginning to stir awake right behind you.

As Barnes stirred, he blinked hard a few times to orient himself to his surroundings. He was in an unfamiliar place with military regalia and medals on the wall. He was on the floor near a couch, and was hooked up to a nearly empty blood bag. Ripping the line out of his arm, he silently got up and saw you standing nearby with your back to him. With a skittish panic flooding his mind, he silently approached you and got your arms locked behind your back as he snapped, "Where am I? Who are you?"

You tried to fly into your instinctual self-defense moves you had learned over the years, but the strength the man possessed couldn't be budged. With a flicker of panic in your mind from being restrained, anxiety began to creep up your spine. As his hold on your arms tightened, you took in an attempt at a calming breath and told him your name, followed by, "I'm a paramedic. I found you on the side of the road and brought you to my apartment to treat you."

"Why?" he asked, his voice near your ear hoarse from not using it in the last few hours.

You faltered as you tried to think of a response that made sense, your mouth opening and closing as your tired mind raced. You finally settled on nodding your head at your laptop screen that was pulled up to his HYDRA file. "You're Sergeant James Barnes. World War II POW, MIA, presumed dead in 1945. According to that file, you were taken by an organization called HYDRA and experimented on. Given a version of the super soldier serum they used to make Captain America. There's…there's a lot more in there I haven't gotten to yet."

As you said that name, a sense of familiarity filled his mind, and he froze. The man on the ship had called him that. He said that his name was James Buchanan Barnes. And somewhere deep inside his mind, he knew that to be true. In this moment of vulnerability, his grip loosened and he dropped your arms. With a sigh of relief, you stepped away, putting a few feet of distance between the two of you for the time being.

A loud beeping sound jolted him out of his thoughts, and he almost bolted until you told him in a soft voice, "It's just the oven. I'm gonna get the food out of there real quick, okay? I…I can make you a plate if you want."

Barnes didn't respond, but remained standing where he was as he watched you take the pans out of the oven. It smelled heavenly, and as the scent permeated his nose, a brief flash of a memory filled the forefront of his mind. It was gone before he could process what it was, but it felt like…home.

Within a minute, you had two plates made and sat one down on the opposite side of the island from where you had your plate so that he could have some space. You sat down on one of the bar stools, and Barnes watched you suspiciously as you took the first bite of the meal. Once you had finished the bite, you told him gently, "It's okay. You can eat. I didn't poison anything." You let out a scoff of a laugh before adding, "Which I know sounds exactly like what someone would say if they did poison something, but… I'm also eating it. So, if we both get food poisoning from me under cooking this chicken, well, I guess we're shit outta luck, huh?"

You laughed to yourself for a second before shaking your head and saying, "I'm so sorry, I didn't even give you a drink. I've got water, tea, lemonade, and some liquor in the freezer." Barnes didn't reply, so you just nodded and said, "I'll grab few options and let you choose, how 'bout that?"

So, you grabbed the pitcher of tea you made, a jug of lemonade, and filled a glass with ice and water from the fridge before grabbing another cup to fill with ice so he could make his pick. After pouring yourself a glass with half tea and half lemonade, you sat back down and took a few more bites of food. He still hadn't sat down or said a word, but was eyeing the food, so you decided to give him a few moments while you ate.

The delicious smell was overwhelming to his senses, and after a minute of watching the food disappear from your plate, Barnes' stomach growled. He couldn't remember the last time he had been given a proper meal. He didn't sit down as he cut off and ate his first bite of chicken, and within minutes, the whole plate had been devoured as he stood eating bite after delicious bite. When he finished, your voice broke through the air for the first time since asking about drinks, asking, "Want another plate? There's plenty."

As he fully took you in, he noticed the wrap around your arm before glancing back over at the makeshift medic station in the living room. You had given him blood. That fact made him realize that you may well have saved his life, and that at least some manners were owed to you. So, he nodded stiffly and replied quietly, "Please," as his stomach rumbled once more.

When you placed Barnes' plate in front of him, you noticed that he had finally poured himself a drink to go with the meal and he sat down on the bar stool as you placed the plate down. You sat back down on your own and told him, "You were a legend, you know. The Howling Commandos sniper. Anyone who studied the wars knew about you and your men." A quiet laugh escaped your lips before you added, "The sniper from the platoon I was with in Afghanistan liked to say he joined up for whatever bullshit reason he came up with for the day, but I knew better. One night he was delirious with infection and told me that you were the real reason he joined."

"You were Army?" he asked between bites.

"Yep. Served six years as a medic before an IED took me out below the knee," you replied. "Earned myself an honorable discharge, a Purple Heart, a ton of mental issues, and a pretty sick bionic prosthetic. Numbers two and four are all thanks to the Commander I pulled out of the building." You couldn't quite read the look on Barnes' face, and you didn't want to pry on his own exit from the Army, so you huffed out a laugh and added, "You can either laugh about it or cry about it, a friend always tells me. I do a fair share of both depending on the day."

There was a beat of silence as you tore off a piece of your roll to eat before asking quietly, "What do you remember?"

"Not much…" he replied as he sat down his glass. "I remember my name - that one's new today. I remember being taken prisoner. I remember Steve, now. He rescued us. I remember…falling. And…just…flashes of stuff that I don't understand. They're…blurry. Like the memories are there, but it's cloudy. I know that doesn't make sense, but…"

You stood up and grabbed his plate to make him a third as you told him, "Makes sense to me." As you stood at the stove, you added, "I'm no psych expert, but judging by what I've read they did to your brain, I'm surprised you're functioning right now." When you sat his plate down in front of him, you sent him a small smile as you said, "You're a helluva fighter, Barnes. And I don't just mean in combat."

A ghost of a smile flitted across his lips before Barnes dove into his third plate.

"You know, there's an exhibit at the Smithsonian about the Commandos right now. If you wanna jog your memory about your past before HYDRA, I think that would be the place to go. They're closed for the night, but they open again tomorrow."

After finishing with your plate in relative silence besides the quiet scraping of utensils, you cleaned off your dishes in the sink and sat them on the rack to dry, a large yawn taking over your features. It was nearly nine o'clock, and you had only gotten about five hours of sleep in the last 40 hours. You needed sleep desperately. So, after sighing out another yawn, you told Barnes, "There's still some food leftover if you want it, and feel free to crash on the couch. I'll clean up the living room mess tomorrow. I haven't slept in too long, so I'm gonna go crash. 'Night, Sarge."

a/n: we are starting off heavy and we will continue to be that waaaayyy! lol well, off we go into another adventure! this man has been living in my head rent-free the last couple of months, so i began the journey of writing this story! i currently have the entirety of the major story arc written and plan on going off into a smaller secondary arc! the next few months will be crazy as hell for me between starting my last semester of my bachelor's degree, moving into my first home, and just life in general, BUT i will absolutely capitalize on the Bucky Barnes hype going around since Thunderbolts*

with all that said, updates will be sporadic!

ps: i am reminding everyone right now that Bucky's prosthetic is his left arm! his right is not. i will be referring to his arms as left vs right with the occasional reference to his "metal arm" but you will not find me calling his right arm his flesh arm 🤣😭

[thexsanctuaryx]

found in the stars

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } emma and marc continue their midnight rendezvous. { pairing: } original oharacter { emma harper } x marc spector; eventually emma harper x steven grant && emma harper x jake lockley { contents: slight angst, kinda fluffy, pagan deities, ancient civilization ergo period, almost completely if not totally alternate universe for the boys, their characters have been taken and dropped into a completely standalone original universe { warnings: } mentions of mental illness { DID }, brief mentions of being mistreated by others, self-loathing, self-blame, due to contents and nature of this series, the boys are pagan instead of jewish, it is not intended as erasure, just a different story being told { author's note: } apologies for the delay! hopefully won't be as long next time til the next installment. { word count: } 1,611 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Suddenly, she wonders if perhaps she should leave, but she so desperately wants to stay.

She worries that he’s already onto her true identity even as she looks deeply into his eyes once more.

All she wants to do is lean back in and return her lips to his, the feeling of their softness imprinted in her consciousness.

She must replay his question over and over in her mind but can’t bring herself to answer.

His thumb grazes over her cheek and it’s as if the clock turns back eons and eons of time.

“I should go…” She says softly.

“Please don’t…” He whispers back, pleading with his eyes.

“Would you wish me to return?”

“Yes.” He replies scarcely before she can finish.

She looks down between them, furrowing her brows, debating whether or not this is a mistake.

She’s always been of the most reserved nature – but here—tonight? She wants so badly to be more like her peers of a more carefree nature.

She inhales a deep breath, her lungs tight with desire, thinking on Eros.

Her eyes rise slowly back to his, another ripple of a breeze flowing through the garden.

She pulls on her confidence, something normally she’s in no short supply of.

“Kiss me again…” She whispers, scowling gently at him.

She tells herself that if he does, it will aid in making her decision. If he hesitates, she’ll know.

But he doesn’t.

With both hands at her face, he rushes back in, reclaiming her lips with his own, frowning deeply as he pours himself into the way he kisses her. He does it as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do—as if it’s the last thing he needs to do to die a happy man.

Her hand instinctively reaches for his tunic, balling up in a fist as she gives him every ounce of the power between them, giving herself over to him completely in a way she’s yet to submit to anyone.

She can feel her body unwind in his careful hold and she wonders if it’s truly possible to fall in love with someone so easily.

The heavens above seem to shift from their very foundations as she leans into him further.

She can hardly think this close to him and has to withdraw quickly. Still, she hovers close, trying to remember her senses.

She can’t possibly get involved with a human. It’d be dangerous. It would give her a weakness—even if she’s the most formidable. The idea of something happening to him aches in her very soul’s core.

But then—it’s at exactly that thought that she realizes that it’s already too late.

The weakness is already there. And she’s already too attached.

She has to see him again.

She must meet the others.

Even if a greater pain is possible, the greatest pain.

With the blink of an eye, she begins creating a life, an identity, and an earthly home—should he come looking.

It’s as though he reads her very thoughts as he opens his eyes.

“It’s late—can I walk you home?” he asks, gently brushing his nose into hers.

She only comes further undone, almost immediately nodding.

She imagines a large home, not far from his and it instantly appears.

She wonders over how she’ll explain him never noticing it before, and so she again imagines it being somewhat concealed by exquisite trees and a garden of her own. And it’s done.

Should he ask, she’ll tell him it’s been recently built—after the passing of her father, a great man of nobility.

She can’t help but feel a pang of guilt that washes through her at the idea of lying to him. It doesn’t seem fair. It doesn’t seem right.

She knows of the struggles with his mind, of the abuse they stem from and wants not to do anything to further cause him anguish.

Neither of them move for the longest moment, just sitting, seemingly entranced with each other.

It’s Marc who snaps out of it first, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry—we should be getting you home—your family will worry…”

Emma’s eyes shy away, a quiet smile tracing over her lips.

He gives a soft chuckle, “do you find my worry amusing?”

She shakes her head, “not at all—it’s just that well—I live alone…” she pauses, “I have for some time…”

His mouth falls open in disbelief, “but—”

“I’m older than I appear…” she confesses without giving too much information.

“Surely you can’t be more than 25—are you not—” he grimaces. “I suppose I probably should have asked if you were married before I kissed you…”

Emma gives a little laugh, “I am not…”

“But then you’d still live with your mother and father…”

She shakes her head, wanting to lie to him as little as possible. After all, how was she supposed to explain that she didn’t have a mother and a father? Moreso that she was to some like a mother.

He gives her a curious look laced with expectance.

He seems to come to his senses that perhaps she is so short spoken because she doesn’t feel comfortable sharing. Perhaps, her family was complicated like his—in which case he certainly couldn’t expect her to explain.

“Forgive me—I’m pressing you with questions…”

She shakes her head again quickly, a soft crease coming between her brows as she reaches to put a comforting hand on his leg.

“There is nothing to forgive—the story is a long and complex one—some other time…” She assures him, searching out his eyes which have since begun to evade hers.

Marc is quick to nod this time, frowning considerately at her. “Of course—and there’s no pressure on my end if you choose not to…”

Her eyes fall away with another quiet—and he notes—mysterious smile.

He can’t help but begin to adore those smiles, already knowing that if he does get to see her again—Steven will be smitten from the moment he sees just such a smile.

Still, he also cannot help feeling like she knows something he doesn’t when one of them graces her perfectly bowed lips.

“What is it?” He asks, this time dipping his head to find her gaze.

The smile grows.

“You’re the sweetest man I have ever known…”

“Then you don’t know me well enough…” He teases.

“To that I won’t disagree—that I don’t know you as well as I’d like to—but I guarantee you are the sweetest by far…”

His heart all but skips as she mentions wanting to know him better, feeling his skin heat.

“Well, you haven’t met Steven…” he says, tearing his eyes away again, instinctively trying to divert the attention away from himself.

“No, I—” she pauses, realizing that she’s not supposed to know who Steven is, she clears her throat.

“Steven?” she feigns the question.

Marc falters suddenly realizing he’s almost let slip about his headmates.

She can see the terror come over his features and hates that she must pretend that she doesn’t know all about his system—that she doesn’t love each and every one of them.

“Forgive me—it’s difficult to explain…” He finally corrects.

Emma shakes her head again, looking for his eyes. “That’s okay—I promise you have nothing to apologize for.” She assures him. “I’d love to meet him someday—if only to prove he’s no better than you…”

He thinks she doesn’t know what she’s talking about but somehow her words still make his heart ache for her. As if she knows exactly what she speaks of.

“You would?” He asks breathlessly, his eyes wide with awe.

“I would…” She turns her head, giving him a knowing smile.

She somehow seems to know more than she lets on, but he can’t figure out how. Then again, if his goddess had sent her, perhaps she had the gift of foresight.

Marc’s speechless for another long moment and she does nothing to prompt him, content to sit here with him as long as she can in the quiet light of the moon.

When she gazes at the moon with the same love he holds for it, he knows something there’s something powerful about their meeting, even if he truly couldn’t comprehend what just yet.

“Do you live nearby?” He finally asks.

“Mmm—just past those trees over the rise…” she explains.

“So close?” Marc says in wonder. He’s lived here most of his life and never realized there was a home there. He can’t figure out how he’s missed it all these years.

A troubled look comes over his features, clearly questioning his own mind. “I don’t know how I’ve missed it…”

Again, she all but curses herself, able to read his thoughts easily. “It was recently built…” she attempts to soothe his confusion, even as she begins to count the lies that have begun to pile up.

She knows she can’t reveal herself yet—even if her cohorts would have.

“I suppose that explains why we’ve never met before…”

Emma nods even as her heart screams at her to tell him the truth.

“Would you like to see it?” she asks, trying to pull his thoughts away from the turmoil within his mind.

“Of course—we should really get you home anyway…”

She nods again, rising to stand, even if she’d prefer to stay here longer with him.

Marc is quick to join her, wanting desperately to reach for her hand, but reminding himself he’s already broken propriety by kissing her. So instead he gestures ahead toward the direction she’d mentioned.

“After you…”

[teamhawkeye]

Would you be able to tell us brief bits about the fics you have in your WIP? ID love to know what stuff your working on! (ESP if you gotta a Buch of TravisLaura ones 😌)

Sure! Thank you for asking

just some TxL WIPs with work done on them:

The BIG one. Laura and Max fight about the grad school rejection at the lodge and he drives off in a huff, leaving Laura behind for a while until Travis comes along in search of them.

Deputy Laura. This was originally what I had started writing for the TxL exchange back in summer, but it got way too long and i knew i wouldn't finish in time so it got put on the back burner

Werewolf Laura. Laura is the one bitten in the cellar instead of Max and all that could have changed as a result

Werewolf Laura AND Werewolf Travis. Kind of a "almost everyone was bit, no one was cured, and no one died" AU one or twoshot

The Collar Fic. Tay, i know I owe it to you to finish this, and it is high on my priority list and has a lot of progress on it so it's just a matter of focusing on it after finishing the Lodge fic.

Ryan, Laura, and Travis post-canon supernatural hunting squad. I love Laura and Travis duo hunting so, so much, but I truly believe in my heart Ryan is someone like Laura who would want to know what else the world is hiding after finding out the truth that night. I just adore the Finale Trio too so getting them back together and working on hunting down other creatures is an idea i absolutely adore

Timeloop. Laura goes from the end of the night back to that night in June on the 919 several times and tries to redo things multiple different ways with no success. Eventually recruits Travis in the mix after several failures.

Several post-canon one-shots or short fics about life afterwards and how Laura and Travis make amends and heal

And several others that are spicy and don't have too much plot otherwise lmao

Active works that I always intend to finish but have been on hiatus for years:

My Cleon fic. One of my first OTPs and I will always come back to them, I just need to sit down and focus and decide how far the AU went because RE is a HUGE series and idk just how far into the games I would take the idea of Claire and Leon sticking together (Leon isn't working for the gov't if they never catch him and Sherry, so is he BSAA? Is Claire? Does she still go to TerraSave instead? Do they do something else?)

My FC5 fic series. It's always my greatest desire to see this finished, because it reignited my love of writing and i've never been in such a writing-induced furor as I was when I was churning out chapters for it back in 2018. It's actually REALLY far along - i write out of order so I wrote the ending of the next installment a while ago - it's just a matter of going back and patching up holes and trying to get motivated again after illness and personal drama that happened at the time i put it down

[xthexsanctuaryx]

{ found in the stars }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

{ summary: } emma and marc continue their midnight rendezvous. { pairing: } original oharacter { emma harper } x marc spector; eventually emma harper x steven grant && emma harper x jake lockley { contents: slight angst, kinda fluffy, pagan deities, ancient civilization ergo period, almost completely if not totally alternate universe for the boys, their characters have been taken and dropped into a completely standalone original universe { warnings: } mentions of mental illness { DID }, brief mentions of being mistreated by others, self-loathing, self-blame, due to contents and nature of this series, the boys are pagan instead of jewish, it is not intended as erasure, just a different story being told { author's note: } apologies for the delay! hopefully won't be as long next time til the next installment. { word count: } 1,611 { taglist: } @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Suddenly, she wonders if perhaps she should leave, but she so desperately wants to stay.

She worries that he’s already onto her true identity even as she looks deeply into his eyes once more.

All she wants to do is lean back in and return her lips to his, the feeling of their softness imprinted in her consciousness.

She must replay his question over and over in her mind but can’t bring herself to answer.

His thumb grazes over her cheek and it’s as if the clock turns back eons and eons of time.

“I should go…” She says softly.

“Please don’t…” He whispers back, pleading with his eyes.

“Would you wish me to return?”

“Yes.” He replies scarcely before she can finish.

She looks down between them, furrowing her brows, debating whether or not this is a mistake.

She’s always been of the most reserved nature – but here—tonight? She wants so badly to be more like her peers of a more carefree nature.

She inhales a deep breath, her lungs tight with desire, thinking on Eros.

Her eyes rise slowly back to his, another ripple of a breeze flowing through the garden.

She pulls on her confidence, something normally she’s in no short supply of.

“Kiss me again…” She whispers, scowling gently at him.

She tells herself that if he does, it will aid in making her decision. If he hesitates, she’ll know.

But he doesn’t.

With both hands at her face, he rushes back in, reclaiming her lips with his own, frowning deeply as he pours himself into the way he kisses her. He does it as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do—as if it’s the last thing he needs to do to die a happy man.

Her hand instinctively reaches for his tunic, balling up in a fist as she gives him every ounce of the power between them, giving herself over to him completely in a way she’s yet to submit to anyone.

She can feel her body unwind in his careful hold and she wonders if it’s truly possible to fall in love with someone so easily.

The heavens above seem to shift from their very foundations as she leans into him further.

She can hardly think this close to him and has to withdraw quickly. Still, she hovers close, trying to remember her senses.

She can’t possibly get involved with a human. It’d be dangerous. It would give her a weakness—even if she’s the most formidable. The idea of something happening to him aches in her very soul’s core.

But then—it’s at exactly that thought that she realizes that it’s already too late.

The weakness is already there. And she’s already too attached.

She has to see him again.

She must meet the others.

Even if a greater pain is possible, the greatest pain.

With the blink of an eye, she begins creating a life, an identity, and an earthly home—should he come looking.

It’s as though he reads her very thoughts as he opens his eyes.

“It’s late—can I walk you home?” he asks, gently brushing his nose into hers.

She only comes further undone, almost immediately nodding.

She imagines a large home, not far from his and it instantly appears.

She wonders over how she’ll explain him never noticing it before, and so she again imagines it being somewhat concealed by exquisite trees and a garden of her own. And it’s done.

Should he ask, she’ll tell him it’s been recently built—after the passing of her father, a great man of nobility.

She can’t help but feel a pang of guilt that washes through her at the idea of lying to him. It doesn’t seem fair. It doesn’t seem right.

She knows of the struggles with his mind, of the abuse they stem from and wants not to do anything to further cause him anguish.

Neither of them move for the longest moment, just sitting, seemingly entranced with each other.

It’s Marc who snaps out of it first, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry—we should be getting you home—your family will worry…”

Emma’s eyes shy away, a quiet smile tracing over her lips.

He gives a soft chuckle, “do you find my worry amusing?”

She shakes her head, “not at all—it’s just that well—I live alone…” she pauses, “I have for some time…”

His mouth falls open in disbelief, “but—”

“I’m older than I appear…” she confesses without giving too much information.

“Surely you can’t be more than 25—are you not—” he grimaces. “I suppose I probably should have asked if you were married before I kissed you…”

Emma gives a little laugh, “I am not…”

“But then you’d still live with your mother and father…”

She shakes her head, wanting to lie to him as little as possible. After all, how was she supposed to explain that she didn’t have a mother and a father? Moreso that she was to some like a mother.

He gives her a curious look laced with expectance.

He seems to come to his senses that perhaps she is so short spoken because she doesn’t feel comfortable sharing. Perhaps, her family was complicated like his—in which case he certainly couldn’t expect her to explain.

“Forgive me—I’m pressing you with questions…”

She shakes her head again quickly, a soft crease coming between her brows as she reaches to put a comforting hand on his leg.

“There is nothing to forgive—the story is a long and complex one—some other time…” She assures him, searching out his eyes which have since begun to evade hers.

Marc is quick to nod this time, frowning considerately at her. “Of course—and there’s no pressure on my end if you choose not to…”

Her eyes fall away with another quiet—and he notes—mysterious smile.

He can’t help but begin to adore those smiles, already knowing that if he does get to see her again—Steven will be smitten from the moment he sees just such a smile.

Still, he also cannot help feeling like she knows something he doesn’t when one of them graces her perfectly bowed lips.

“What is it?” He asks, this time dipping his head to find her gaze.

The smile grows.

“You’re the sweetest man I have ever known…”

“Then you don’t know me well enough…” He teases.

“To that I won’t disagree—that I don’t know you as well as I’d like to—but I guarantee you are the sweetest by far…”

His heart all but skips as she mentions wanting to know him better, feeling his skin heat.

“Well, you haven’t met Steven…” he says, tearing his eyes away again, instinctively trying to divert the attention away from himself.

“No, I—” she pauses, realizing that she’s not supposed to know who Steven is, she clears her throat.

“Steven?” she feigns the question.

Marc falters suddenly realizing he’s almost let slip about his headmates.

She can see the terror come over his features and hates that she must pretend that she doesn’t know all about his system—that she doesn’t love each and every one of them.

“Forgive me—it’s difficult to explain…” He finally corrects.

Emma shakes her head again, looking for his eyes. “That’s okay—I promise you have nothing to apologize for.” She assures him. “I’d love to meet him someday—if only to prove he’s no better than you…”

He thinks she doesn’t know what she’s talking about but somehow her words still make his heart ache for her. As if she knows exactly what she speaks of.

“You would?” He asks breathlessly, his eyes wide with awe.

“I would…” She turns her head, giving him a knowing smile.

She somehow seems to know more than she lets on, but he can’t figure out how. Then again, if his goddess had sent her, perhaps she had the gift of foresight.

Marc’s speechless for another long moment and she does nothing to prompt him, content to sit here with him as long as she can in the quiet light of the moon.

When she gazes at the moon with the same love he holds for it, he knows something there’s something powerful about their meeting, even if he truly couldn’t comprehend what just yet.

“Do you live nearby?” He finally asks.

“Mmm—just past those trees over the rise…” she explains.

“So close?” Marc says in wonder. He’s lived here most of his life and never realized there was a home there. He can’t figure out how he’s missed it all these years.

A troubled look comes over his features, clearly questioning his own mind. “I don’t know how I’ve missed it…”

Again, she all but curses herself, able to read his thoughts easily. “It was recently built…” she attempts to soothe his confusion, even as she begins to count the lies that have begun to pile up.

She knows she can’t reveal herself yet—even if her cohorts would have.

“I suppose that explains why we’ve never met before…”

Emma nods even as her heart screams at her to tell him the truth.

“Would you like to see it?” she asks, trying to pull his thoughts away from the turmoil within his mind.

“Of course—we should really get you home anyway…”

She nods again, rising to stand, even if she’d prefer to stay here longer with him.

Marc is quick to join her, wanting desperately to reach for her hand, but reminding himself he’s already broken propriety by kissing her. So instead he gestures ahead toward the direction she’d mentioned.

“After you…”

[miraculous-lesbeans]

I went to a very small college. Like between 1000-2000 students total small. So I had some of the same professors every single year. I also had the luck of having my top two favorite professors as both advisors (one my freshman advisor and one my major advisor) and profs almost every year.

Dr. B was my psychology major advisor. She was near Vulcan in her logic, a fact she would take as the highest compliment. She deserves it. I adore her to this day.

But one of her courses was structured differently than normal, in hopes that it would be more accommodating for students with mental illnesses. (A very high percentage of the average psychology department). I was part of the first class she structured that way.

It was built with no hard deadlines, with clear suggestions of when things should be turned in to stay on track. Which is, in theory, a great adhd accommodation, right? How many times have I wished that I could speedrun a boring course whose content I already understood and spend more time on things I was learning for the first time? The lectures were pre-recorded, and edited to be the best explanation of the subject she could give. Class time was for working on what would normally be homework. Dr. B was available to help during class and office hours, and often lead our labs during this time. She stated that one of her goals was to make the ‘homework’ portion of the class possible to complete in our allotted class time. So we’d only have those pre-recorded lectures to do outside of class.

However: you could not progress to the next assignment without satisfactorily completing the previous one, and your final grade was based on the linear point you got to in the course.

There was this portion of the class that required you to install software to analyze data, and my laptop wasn’t compatible with the software. If I didn’t have experience modding games, I probably couldn’t have ever gotten this software to load on a computer that actively considered it malware. Because of the ‘default to accommodation’ course, I couldn’t move on until I finished this one Nightmare Task.

One of the essential lessons college students, especially disabled students, learn is time management. In many institutions the workload is actively meant to be more work than a person could thoroughly complete. One of the simplest ways to balance this is on most syllabi. You can look at the percentage of your grade an assignment will make up and say ‘is writing a 6 page analysis of a research paper every single week worth doing, knowing the full semester of these totals to 5% of my total grade and they don’t build to bigger assignments? (True story, the answer was no, but god did I try anyways.) And a handy follow up, if I drop that one assignment, or don’t address one part of the rubric, could I still get the grade I want in the course?

Any other course I would have gotten a bad mark on the assignment, because the deadline would pass before I could complete it, and that would be that. In this course I spent a month having panic attacks and working out technical issues on what was, for all intents and purposes, a minor assignment meant to visualize concepts I already understood, and my grade and stress levels suffered for it.

I can definitely sympathize with students who get worse grades because a deadline passed them by. It’s happened to me many times, especially as I got sicker in my later years of college. But I also know that ‘no deadlines’ as an ADHD accommodation really only works if the student can keep up with the course load in general. Deadline or not, you do HAVE to do the work eventually, usually pushed into a big deadline at the end of the semester. Looser deadlines just mean the work piles up.

There was only one class I struggled in more than the one built to accommodate by default, and it was the one with a professor who believed it was her responsibility be a barrier to her students’ success.

I don't know if this is anyone else's experience but

Professor with oldfashioned way of teaching who just has the generic disability accomodations statement in syllabus: Just email them explaining the situation and the answer will probably be "sure, just let me know what you need and I will try to help you"

Professor who actively and consciously tries to make their teaching style "accessible" and think about differences in learning needs: you're about to have the worst, most stressful experience ever trying to figure out adjustments to an environment that has no clear expectations or procedures to begin with, and communicate those to someone who is more resistant than usual to realizing their teaching environment has accessibility barriers

[amaryllisblackthorn]

to make up for the looong time its been taking me to get done with my curse au fic i’m uploading snippets  of an unfinished abandoned fic in the same verse. it’s not canon, so i guess its like an au of an au heh. it’s the same universe as the body remembers what the memory forgot, but like i said, it’s not canon so the second installment will completely disregard these parts.

Moonlight shone dimly through veils of dust that covered the faces of virgin windows. The once paragonal coat of youth chipped away from the abrasive wear of time. The emptiness was suffocating if one did not tread carefully, and the silence would have been deafening if not for the rhythm of footsteps accompanying a duo. 

“Christ -- Georgie!” Duncan said as soon as he realized the identity of one of the girl’s facing him. He darted from his place on the stairs leaving the woman, Jolie, where she stood unmoving.

           “Yes, it’s nice to see you too, Duncan,” Sara said, using sarcasm to aid in her recovery of the alarming incident. Her hand was holding Georgie’s, but whether it was for her comfort or her own was hard to tell. Maybe it was both. “Your concern is touching.”

           In the midst of his anger and worry, the boy found the time to flash her a grin. “Always a pleasure, Sara.” His appearance quickly turned serious again as he looked to Georgie and then turned to face Jolie, his brows furrowing. “Can you explain exactly what you were doing here?”

           His voice had a terribly controlled sound to it, a dangerous calm. It was the kind of tone that brought kings to their knees and made the bones in Georgie’s body shake. Somehow, however, it didn’t seem to have much of an effect on Jolie. She stood, stoic. “They’re intruders.”

           “Well, this was fun,” Georgie started to say, already taking some steps back. Her hands opened and unopened several times. Everything seemed so fake for some reason, so unreal. “But I think I’m going to go.”

           “No -- wait!” Duncan said, extending his hand as though to stop her. He had moved slightly closer to her in an attempt to gain her attention. His green eyes implored with hers, looked at her with a sense of understanding and empathy. It was to ensure the advantage that he remained eye level with her, saying, “Stay. Just for a bit -- if you’re still uncomfortable then you can go. Just -- don’t go. Not yet.”

           There was still nothing in Georgie that wanted her to stay. Warnings of go, go! still beat in her heart, her thumb rubbing the hem of her skirt again and again. Even though the danger had passed, her body didn’t seem to be aware. It was a sensation that was too familiar, and she didn’t like it. “I -- I don’t know, Duncan. I don’t really like to keep company with people who try to kill me.”

The hesitance did not completely depart from Georgie, but his words did have an effect on her. It calmed the rattling of her bones, even if just a little bit. He was also so insistent, wanting terribly for her to stay. She decided she could give him a few minutes of her time without it hurting anyone. “Okay,” she breathed, and then, a bit clearer, “Okay, fine. I’ll stay for a bit. As long as there are no more attempts on my life.”

           A smile appeared on the boy’s face, breaking through his attempt to suppress it. “There won’t be. I promise.”

Jolie had a scowl ingrained on her face, and although it may have always been at that intensity, Georgie couldn’t help but feel it was directed at them (her specifically). The again, maybe Georgie was just worrying too much, thinking too much of herself. Nevertheless, it was a less than welcoming expression, and it made the hairs on Georgie’s skin stand up just a little. It’s not that Georgie genuinely believed that the older woman would actually hurt her, but she had a suspicion that’s exactly what she wanted to do.

           “Hey,” a voice said, breaking through her thoughts. Duncan had approached her, having left Jolie’s side. His lips formed a half smile, and she had to admit he looked kind of cute when his smile wasn’t a smirk. Objectively speaking. “Everything okay? You look kind of disquieted.”

           Her lips tightened as she gave him a close smile. “No, yeah, I’m fine,” Georgie said, putting a loose strand of hair behind her ear. For someone who regularly wore ponytails, she would have thought she’d be able to do them better. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if she really liked ponytail. They made her feel kind of … mature? Not that that was a problem, exactly, but when was the last time she wore her hair down, besides from sleeping and showering? Strange were the things she’d been beginning to notice after years of them never crossing her mind. That was life, she guessed.

           “See -- there!” Duncan said, once again interrupting her musings. There was something almost playful about his features as he gained her attention again. “You did it again. You sure everything’s okay?”

           “Positive,” Georgie assured him, then added, “but, I mean, I guess this just isn’t my cup of tea? It’s nothing personal, it’s just I was kind of expecting to, you know, explore an abandoned building or something. I didn’t expect like a haunted house kind of a deal or like Paris catacombs under the building or anything, but I guess I was looking forward to the thrill of walking through an isolated building? It’s silly, I know. It’s just that this is kind of … boring.”

           She didn’t want to be too blunt and end up offending him, but he seemed to take it very well. His lips spread wider, and he seemed somewhat amused. “You haven’t even been here for ten minutes,” Duncan said (he wasn’t exactly sure of how much time had actually passed but it certainly seemed like not much), “and you’ve already decided that you know everything there is to know about this building! I’ll let you know, bird, there’s a lot to still explore in this old building.”

           Georgie scrunched her nose and exaggerated an angry pout at the use of that nickname. It was a stupid one (unlike Georgie which was a pleasant sounding derivative of Georgia, her name), but she didn’t really have that much of an objection to it. It was just really fun when she pretended that she did. In fact, she kind of liked that he did it, because in an odd way it made her feel better about that whole kidnapped-by-a-sicko incident. Like it had less power over her because they were able to refer to it without avoidance or caution. She didn’t know how to explain it, but it was kind of nice.

          The eyes of the boy in front of her were no longer on her but gazed somewhere past her. “I don’t know, she seems to be all right,” he said, casually.

          Georgie spun her head around to see what he was talking about. Sara was talking to three boys who had names that evaded Georgie but whom seemed to be engaged in the conversation. Her friend’s hands moved animatedly as she spoke, her eyes housing a spark as she did so.

          “After a lot of trial and error, experience, and extensive research,” she was saying, “I’ve found out that the best materials are balsa wood, thick clear pine, steel wool, unbleached muslin, dowels, carpet thread, and sheet brass. I’ve heard some things about trunk fiber, and honestly I’m dying to use it.”

          “What is she talking about?” Georgie said half-absently to herself, staring at Sara in bewilderment. Man, did her friend have some peculiar hobbies.

            “So?” Duncan asked, his voice full of anticipation. He tried to suppress it, but it was there. In an odd way, he resembled a puppy, with a tilted head and wide expecting eyes. She wouldn’t be surprised if his ears had perked up. It was actually a pretty amusing imagery.

           “I -- I don’t know, Duncan,” Georgie told him, putting her hands together, restless. “I just don’t … feel comfortable, you know? I should probably just -- ”

           “ -- go home?” Duncan finished for her, his eyebrow raised. His features had become harsher, judgmental even. Maybe even hurt.

           “Duncan -- ”

           “And what waits for you there, Georgie, hm? A practical life of routine and predictability, where you grow up silently without any protest? You would rather go back fading into the abyss? You would rather stay where you know is safe and protected, not just from dangers and threats but from living and excitement? Are you really that afraid of the dark that you would rather keep your window shut than go out and venture through and discover what lies there? So afraid that you’d rather close your eyes and miss all of the marvels and wonders that pass you by, that you’d see if you only looked? Is that really what you want to go back to, Georgie? Is it?”

           “How dare you,” said Georgie, clenching her fists. Her brow was furrowed as her cheeks raised. She tried to keep her voice from raising while still expressing all of the fury that she felt. “How dare you. How dare you criticize me for wanting safety -- after everything that I’ve been through? Where do you get off judging me for being afraid after I’ve been abducted by some murderous psycho who had a room covered in the blood of his victims? I’ve earned the right to be afraid, and you can go screw yourself for saying otherwise.”

           “Why can’t you just believe that I won’t let anyone hurt you?” he asked furiously, as though he was the one being wronged.

           “Because I can’t trust you not to do it yourself!” she retorted right back, refusing to shrink down. “I can’t trust you, not when you may have burned down a house and killed someone! I thought I could have ignored it, I thought that I could be okay with it, but I realize now that I’m not. I’m not, because if you could have done that, then who knows what else you could be capable of? I can’t trust you to be able to control yourself, and that’s terrifying. The boys never do anything to upset you, but is that out of loyalty or fear? At the end of the day, Duncan Faber, I still don’t know you. I can say what instruments you play and what language you take, but I can’t say that I trust you, because I can’t. Not really.”

           His glare was thrown like daggers, but Georgie stood unfazed, her nerves impenetrable armor. Heat seemed to be seething from him, his breaths rough and ragged. Oh, if looks could kill. Well, he wasn’t the only one who knew how to throw daggers. She had an advantage over him, too; he constantly overestimated himself and underestimated others. Georgia McCarthy was not one to be underestimated lightly.

           Before he was able to find his voice, to form words out of his turbulent emotion, Georgie spun around and started to make her way across the corridor. “Don’t follow me,” she warned, not even looking back. She wasn’t going to stay in the company of someone who didn’t respect her, who invalidated how she felt. No, Georgie held too much self-respect for herself, too much dignity. There was no way she was going to let a smug pompous jerk spit all over here as she just took it. No, sir. Not Georgie.

There was something nagging in the back of her mind — like, Yeah, good luck with this one. Did you honestly think you would be able to find something like this? How much longer are you going to keep romanticizing things that aren’t meant to be romanticized?  Don’t you remember how things worked out last time?

(For a moment, a quick fleeting moment, she scratched sentience and was so very close to the cracks of remembrance.)

The tracks guiding the train of thought disassembled as quickly as they were put down, and Georgie occupied herself with this latest development. She honestly didn’t expect for it to work, especially not this soon. One of the negatives of making it up as she went was not knowing what to do next; how was she supposed to enter?

A once passive nature had transformed into a creation much different, much more comfortable. Stubbornness was an old jacket she found without trying that had been custom made for her. It suited her perfectly, and she accepted it so intrinsically that it was hard to remember that she hadn’t always worn it. The knitted brow, the intense frown, the stonewall resolve — they all appeared bringing with them a sense of reversion.

[mailboxmerchant]

winning!Ranmaru Kageyama x Reader: What Have You Done?!

a/n: i just finished the most recent installment in yttd andn holy fuck,,,,,,winner! ranmaru just. holy shit! i love him so much. (also i guess you sort of take saras place? like shes there but youre ranmarus buddy instead and uhh hc that she got joe’s doll for a partner because i love thme) hgnghgh)\

also please leave requests!!! please!!!! for almost any character from almst any fandom!!!!!! please!!!!!!

also this is....a long one. probably gonna be a two parter! <3

“I’ll hold him back, just go! Reko...she....she’s-” 

Watching with the others in the classroom as Kurumada held Ranmaru to the ground by his head, you looked down at Ranmaru’s pleading expression. 

Before you could reach for him though, you were quickly ushered out by your panicked friends and allies.

Ranmaru....what did you...

◤...three hours prior to this...◢

“Keiji! I’m here! Please come out, everyone is so worried!”

“y/n....”

“Are you...there Keiji?”

A hand that clamped around your shoulder sent you into shock as you sprawled forward to the ground. “Waugh!!! Wh-who!?!?” You whipped yourself around to face a concerned looking Ranmaru.

“Heya y/n.” He said with a smirk and a wave. “Gah! Ranmaru, you scared me...!”

“Clearly.” He smiled as he offered a hand out to you. You gave him a pleased smile as you took his hand. “So....Keiji was a no-show, huh?” 

“I mean, Sara was too worried to go alone so I offered to go in her place...but it looks like we should have followed Keiji’s instructions, huh?” You laughed dejectedly, as the missing friendly policeman’s absence was beginning to create a deep worry in the back of your mind. 

The expression on your face seemed to clearly resemble your disappointment of not finding him, as a pair of fingers snapped out in front of you. 

“Heeey? Earth to y/n, I asked you a question. You alright?” 

You gave a curt, polite nod. “Sorry, yeah, what did you say again?”

Ranmaru sighed as he patted your back, “Man, you’re a mess today, eh? I asked....ᶦᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴹᵃᵖˡᵉ ˢᵃᶦᵈ....” The last part was quietly spoken, but you heard what he said, and you knew what he meant.

“What!? You mean about what she about....winning?” Ranmaru’s uneasy expression meant that was exactly what he was talking about. 

“We can’t! E-everyone has been...working so hard together, and with you all as our new allies-” “They’re not all your allies. We were made to get rid of you humans, but Maple told me something the rest of them don’t know. Why won’t you let me act on it?! I can save us, save you!”

“That’s enough! I can’t...hear you say that. Not you, Ranmaru, please.” 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, y/n, I swore I’d protect you. Reko, Sara, Keiji, everyone! I’ll kill them, and I’ll get you out of this horrible game!”

As if the idea of winning crossing Ranmaru’s mind at all hadn’t hurt enough to hear about, here was your partner for this entire floor’s length of horrors telling you he’d kill all your allies to save the both of you.

Ranmaru wasn’t wrong. You were tired. You wanted to go home. You missed your friends, and your regular old life. You adored Ranmaru, and even without knowing what to do after this could end, you wanted to have him by your side.

What am I thinking?!

“Ranmaru! I don’t want you to protect me. I want us to all escape together, and I could never ask you to betray our allies!”

Something about the way you delivered that line stuck with Ranmaru though. You couldn’t ask him? Then you didn’t have to. He’d help you, and he’d take all the responsibility too. All the guilt, the hardships, the terror? He could handle it...if it was for you. You and him were going to win, and you were going to live. And after all his efforts, maybe, just maybe, you could be his.

And with the seeds sown, Ranmaru’s mind began racing with ways to get every single human and doll eliminated before they could realize what was going on. 

And that would begin with the lovely, unknowing Ms. Reko.

◤...present time...◢

“Oh...no....” Sara uttered, her breath entirely taken away from the sight before us.

The magnetic trap mechanism in the locker room had been activated while Reko was in it. “Reko, please, no...holy shit...” Q-taro mourned. Her grotesquely snapped neck was just barely holding her entirely hanging body to the ceiling by her collar.

Everyone was whispering their words of loss and grief. You couldn’t speak though. You instantly made the connection between Kuramada tackling Ranmaru and what he had said about getting here quickly. This was preventable. And actually....

This was your fault.

Ranmaru wanted you to win, and he wanted you to take him with you. You didn’t chastise him enough to stop this, and now Reko’s blood and tears were on your hands. 

The quiet stip-step of shoes tapping on the concrete floor sprung you from your remorseful daze. “y-y/n...I swear...I didn’t-” 

A louder, heavier pair of feet could be heard hitting the solid ground harshly. 

“Bastard! You’ll pay for what you’ve done!! My trust, their trust, you’ve ruined everything!” Kurumada went in for a swing as Ranmaru barely dodged him, bumping his backside into your front.

“NO! It wasn’t me! I wasn’t even anywhere near this room, I was with y/n!” 

“That was a whole goddamn hour ago, you lying piece a’ shit! You woulda been in the control room well after that!”

“Why would I kill Reko?! I had no motive to kill the humans, our tasks were erased and our connections were cut! I would never-”

“Bullshit. No motive? What was all that crap about winning for, then?”

Ranmaru fell silent.

“You...you thought I was dead. And you thought you could leave the transceiver on and cheer yourself on for winning the game, huh?!”

Ranmaru’s silence persisted, your stomach dropping further than you thought possible. 

He took a slow inhale...

“Yeah. I did think you were dead, but now I see you’re just as big of an obstacle as ever. All you damn dolls. I’ll get rid of you all, and y/n and I are gonna win.”

“Ranmaru...”

“I didn’t think I’d get caught on the first try, I mean geez! I really hoped it’d be easier than this, that I could be stealthy, but apparently not...” 

It was like his entire demeanor changed. His usual hesitance to speak, his more crouched and small frame, and his kind meekness were all completely stripped away, replaced by this malicious, devious darkness that seemed to emanate off his body.

“Well, well! Somethin’ fun’s happening in here, amirite?!”

“M-Midori!?” You cried out as his arm creepily slung around your shoulder. You backed away as Ranmaru stayed staring him down. “Ohh, what perfect timing. Midori...I have a deal for you, something to keep this game interesting.” Ranmaru sounded like a perfect copy of Midori, it was beginning to frighten you. Reko’s body still left all the survivors in shock, no one but the three dolls who were as lively as ever being able to speak.

“ ᴿᵃⁿᵐᵃʳᵘ...ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ...“ You finally uttered. 

“What might this deal be, my pathetic doll?” Scoffing at his comment, Ranmaru pleads with him, “If you could just please...kill the dolls. Leave me as the sole doll and I swear I’ll give you a show you’ll never forget.” You weren’t sure what made you sicker, the grin that was spread across both Ranmaru’s and Midori’s faces, or the dark tone Ranmaru suddenly took, his genuineness shining through. He would kill every survivor. You might really win, and you still didn’t know what to think about it. 

The tension in the room was so thick you could slice through it with a knife. Everyone's eyes were trained on you, Ranmaru, and Midori. You felt sick, the energy of the room suffocating you slowly.

"I think I could do something like that."

As if it couldn't drop any lower, your organs practically just disappeared from inside you. "H-hey, you're not...serious, are ya?" Q-taro finally spoke up, the first of the survivors to actually something.

"Why wouldn't I be? This deal is of great benefit to me....and y/n it seems." Midori's tucked in smile sent shivers down your spine as he stared at you with his widened eyes.

"First though...the banquet has to happen."

The reminder brought the most sincere relief you'd ever felt in your life. You still had time to convince Ranmaru not to go through with his ridiculous sabotage plan.

The room calmed as everyone slowly and hesitantly made their way back to the graveyard. How was anyone supposed to work together after something like that...?

◤...to be continued (eventually)...◢

I HAD TO END THIS BECAUSE I WAS SLOWLY FORGETTING WHERE I WAS GOING WITh thIS SO ILL START WITH THE BANQUET IN THE NEXT PART TY FOR READING PLEASE REQUESTS MWAH ILY BYE BYE<3

[hermette-historian]

A Comedy of Errors: The B-Team vs. TEA

You know it's funny, sometimes, how history repeats itself. How many of you knew there was in fact a full on Hermitcraft war all the way back in Season 1? Oh, there was chaos before Grian alright. Have an "abbreviated" summary of events, and see for yourselves just how little our favorite characters have changed.

Part I: The Setup

Biffa2001 is a chaos gremlin. He's has already shown earlier in the season just how bold he can be with threats (however empty) and interfering with other people's stuff. Biffa decides that holding everyone's bases hostage for diamond blocks isn't chaotic enough for him, so he goes in and closes down every shop in the bazaar under threat of foreclosure.

Biffa also has a best friend, our beloved Xisuma. X finds out that his shop has been closed and instead of confronting Biffa goes after DMAC, whom he discovered has not only "illegally" reopened his own shop but has been buying up and undercutting Xisuma's own prices on enchanted iron tools for weeks. (In the meantime, DMAC covered Biffa's entire base in iron golems in retribution for closing the emporium).

Biffa and Xisuma decide that too much shady shit has been going down on this server lately, and that they need to be the ones to bring down the hammer and stop it. They form "The Agency" (later TEA for Tea Eaters' Alliance) and their first target is not DMAC, but GenerikB's Hermits Hurtin' Hurdles from way back at the beginning of the season. The gauntlet has been long abandoned at this point, having been bested by both Joe Hills and Hypnotizd, and parts of it have even been torn down to make way for a slime farm. The Agency decides that it's far too dangerous to be left standing, and bricks the whole passage up with wooden fences. A few days later they return while GB is still out with food poisoning following his vacation. Having decided that the Hermit himself is dangerous to the well-being of the server due to his nasty habit of having a literal hit list, they punish him by filling every air block in his entire underground base with the same wooden fences.

GB, obviously, is pissed. He comes back from his illness to find he's been quarantined, spends several hours trying to tear down the fences by hand, and finally with a heavy heart resorts to burning them. He bricks off as many of the offshoot farms as he can, rescues what important materials he can find, and sets fire to the inside of his base-burning out not only the fences, but nearly a year's worth of carefully placed wooden structures and decorative leaves.

Now effectively homeless until he can hire Topmass to build him a new base, GB decides he needs backup if he's going to go up against The Agency. Within a week the other half of the B-Team (Bdubs, of course) and the "Goon Squad" (Skyzm, Pungence, and Juicetra) join the server and descend on The Agency's respective bases like flies, leaving their calling card: Several extremely large cobblestone Bs.

That, obviously, is not enough. While TEA is building their diamond-studded headquarters at a sit e offshore from Xisuma's base, GB puts up a new shop in the bazaar: The Angels with Bent Halos Foundation, where one can become an "involunteer" and donate their items to the poor and needy of the server (himself. He's just stealing Biffa's stuff.) He also decides that Hypnotizd is a suspiciously neutral party, and sends the Goon Squad out to the remote reaches of the server to investigate his massive, technologically advanced base...

Part II: The Escalation

Enter Joe Hills, and the errors with him. Joe realizes his shop has been closed a few months too late, and misreads the "B" on the sign as meaning "B-Team" regarding recent events. In a fit of righteous anger he griefs the AWBH foundation. The next day he realizes his mistake and very quickly shifts the target of his rage, beginning construction on a courthouse in which he plans to put TEA on trial. Meanwhile TEA builds their own shopfront in the second floor of the bazaar, a sort of police station in which neutral parties can leave complaints and report crimes.

Before Joe can realize his mistake and clean up the mess he made, Juicetra arrives at AWBH and assumes that TEA is responsible for destroying it. He rushes upstairs and leaves a very strongly worded message in their dropbox before bricking up their own shop, "a taste of their own medicine".

GB follows up close behind. Unlike Juicetra, he knows who vandalized the shop and leaves a report formally suing Joe for the damages in the form of an involuntary donation-forcing TEA to work on his side. (He also leaves a second report complaining about the noise from the chickens that X hid in the walls of the bazaar, but that has little to do with the situation).

The turnaround time on the complaints is mere hours. TEA arrives on the scene of the crime to help GB clean up the mess and retrieve his missing items from Joe's shop, and promises that justice will be done. In possibly violent ways.

Part III: The Suspense

The Goon Squad senses the impending "shit's about to go down" and retreats to the mountains, building a secret hideaway for neutral parties to use when bits start to explode. Topmass and his build team finish GB's new base in creative mode (we'll talk about the implications of that later). Hypno pokes his head into the rest of the server for about 0.2 seconds and sees that Bdubs has involunteered the decorative emerald blocks at his nether tunnel, but shows little interest in the whole affair. The neutral parties begin to take sides...

Part IV: A Long-Expected Party

Weeks pass, and nothing is heard from either side of the conflict. And then, a spark.

The Agency receives intelligence containing the coordinates of the Goon Squad's base, and deeming them a higher threat than either the B-Team (due to the substantiated squashing of GB's base) or Joe (who hasn't been seen on the server for weeks due to the birth of his child) decide it's time they paid their due. It takes a reasonable level of hunting, but eventually they are able to track down the coordinates and...redecorate a bit. Just to remind the Goons that the Agency is watching.

It takes a few days, but Skyzm discovers the vandalism and on his own swears revenge from the Goon Squad. Word then reaches GB-famous for his fairness and generosity and certainly not killing people-who is righteously angered by the Agency's actions and leaves the Goon Squad a voucher for an involuntary donation to them such that justice might be done.

A few days later, the Goons come back to the hideout and in a familiar move, angrily burn the vandalism out from the inside. They proceed on a tnt-fueled rampage through all of the little marks that TEA left on their home, and in a final act of revenge vandalize the police station as well as the neighboring TEA-owned Tnt shop and chicken farm.

Here's where things take a turn for the IRL. Juicetra enlists the help of his fanbase via Twitter, and asks them one fateful evening if they have the coordinates or approximate location of the TEA headquarters (which, you may recall from several paragraphs ago, is a) full of diamonds and b) severely lacking security). But before the nosy fans that had scouted the location during the world tour could spill the tea, Xisuma catches wind of the possible heist and very quickly moves the diamonds to a safer location. Only he forgot to tell Biffa. Responding to the emergency call of “someone stole our diamonds!!” results in awkward apologies and a trip to view the damage to the police station, and then…to do nothing about it?

Unfortunately, this is pretty much where the story ends. The server was wrapping up at this point, and two weeks after the last installment both members of the B-team left for good. Two of the three members of the goon squad remained active until the very end, but the third was too preoccupied with FTB to focus on any shenanigans. Joe Hills did return from his baby-related hiatus, but the courthouse went unused. And the tension regarding the dictatorial Tea Eater’s Alliance dissolved.

For now.

See you in season 2! /t

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 37

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: this chapter is gonna be the last one and i think i’m gonna need therapy for attachment. finished this chapter after seeing seb’s baby pictures and now i think i need double the therapy. hope you enjoy this chapter, it has been such a pleasure to write for you, it’s been my absolute honour to read all the comments and to offer you this story. thank you so so much for all your support x

A YEAR LATER

Y/N woke up in her bedroom with the sounds of birds chirping, the signs that another spring day was starting to wake up in Paris. Extending her arms, she remained under her weighted blanket for a while, watching the chandelier above their bed. It had been a wedding present from her mother’s part of the family and while both her and Sebastian thought it was a bit too much, they eventually got their contractor to install it in their bedroom in their Paris apartment. It had taken a bit of time to get used to but now she had the ritual of waking up and watching the sun create little rainbows through the clear crystal of the chandelier.

After she felt her awake status surround her whole being, she left her bed, grabbing her dressing gown and wrapping herself around it before taking to the room next to her. Slowly and carefully, she pulled on the handle of the door down, opening it. Her eyes came in contact with the peaceful grey colours of the walls slightly decorated with small little ivory coloured clouds. Coming in closer, she let her hips slightly hit the white crib where the one year old was standing, wide awake with the ear of Sebastian’s old toy bunny, Oreo, in his mouth. 

    - Hello my little bunny. - she smiled down at her son who, recognising his mother’s voice, immediately started to giggle, extending his arms up to be picked up by her. Y/N merely smiled, extending her own arms towards his crib to pick him and hold him against her chest. - Let’s go have breakfast. Can you say breakfast?

    - Dada. - he said with a smile that showed he was proud of himself. She rolled her eyes at the word, if there was something Sebastian had done perfectly was make sure their son’s first word would be dada and while Y/N had been trying to make sure Nate spoke anything else, he only proudly said dada much to her nuisance. Y/N merely smiled as she rolled her eyes, getting him off his grey onesie and into a white shirt with little train drawings and some dark jean overalls. - Dada, dada!

    - Say mumma. - she laughed, holding him close as she took to the kitchen where Amelia was starting to cook some breakfast. - Mumma. 

    - Dadda! - he broke out in laughter, wrapping his chubby arms around his mother’s neck. Y/N merely smiled, sitting down on her chair and pulling the high chair with her foot, popping the tray off so she could sit the baby down who was never happy whenever she strapped him to his high chair which is why Sebastian normally did it himself, but as of today he was still in New York dealing with some business transaction gone wrong. Normally Y/N would’ve travelled along with him but ever since Nate had been born, she had been paranoid someone would try and harm him.

    - Morning, Mrs. Stan. - Amelia placed a plate of Y/N’s favourite breakfast, poached egg on mushrooms in front of her and a blue plate of slice bananas in front of baby Nate whose hands immediately went for the slices. - Are you sure you don’t want me to bake the cake for baby Nathaniel?

   - Your holiday started yesterday, Amelia. You shouldn’t even be here.

  - It’s baby Nathaniel’s birthday. 

  - So it isn’t due to my husband? - she raised an eyebrow at the maid. - You don’t need to worry about me, I’ll be fine. 

  - Mr. Stan is worried.

  - Mr. Stan is always worried. - to say that Sebastian had upped security since the ill fated Mr. Williams incident was an understatement. If Y/N left the house to go to the bakery, four armed men would follow her around with one in front, one in the back and two on each side. Yet, that was nothing compared to when Nathaniel went outside. She guessed it was a regular thing, after all her small little ball of sunshine was the one who would one of day solely inherit her mother’s fortune, her father’s family and Sebastian’s too. Either way, he was excessive with protection and she should’ve guessed he wouldn’t have allowed her to be alone with their son for a long while. Before she could try and convince the hardworking full time maid to take her much deserved holiday, Nate grabbed his plastic plate, smashing his face against the banana slices making her choke in a laugh. - Alright bunny, that’s enough bananas. 

  - Don’t be upset at him, Mrs. Stan. 

 - I won’t if you take your holiday. - Y/N pushed her plate away from her, walking to her son’s high chair. Nate extended his chubby arms towards her, cooing to be removed from it which she complied to, holding him to her chest as she walked over to the living room that was filled with toys and other things belonging to Nate. He was spoiled but in this Y/N couldn’t completely blame Sebastian as she could be even as bad as him when it came to fullfilling her son’s requests. 

Placing him on his baby matt, Nate turned onto his belly crawling over to her mother’s knees, looking up at her with a look that could only be described as cheeky. Y/N lowered to her knees, watching as Nathaniel crawled around happily with his toy bunny. He still didn’t say much and was still learning to how to walk, instead putting himself up on his legs, holding onto the couch before eventually collapsing to the ground. Speaking of which, the one year hold grasped onto the white leather and pulling himself off the ground and on his chubby legs, the other hand firmly gripping onto the bunny’s ears.

   - Do you wanna try and walk all the way to mumma? - she asked the blue eyed baby who looked away from her and back again. - Go on, come to mumma.

Nate looked at her with confusion, the eyes he had definitely inherited from his father looking around the room almost as if he was preparing to fall into a pit of fire. With Oreo clenched by the ear, he let go of the couch, standing on his chubby baby legs. Before he could take another step, he went tumbling towards the ground yet Y/N was faster than that, moving so she could catch her baby before he got hurt. As he collapsed on her lap, he turned his head up to look at his mother, pouty lips and tear filled eyes. 

    - It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. - she pushed the brown curls away from his face, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. - It’s okay, mumma will always be here to catch you. 

    - Mumma. - he babbled, burying his head on her chest.

    - What did you say? - she looked down in disbelief but before the baby could say it again the front door opened, a very familiar voice coming through.

   - Where’s the birthday boy? - Y/N rolled her eyes, picking Nate up and getting up before walking to the entrance where Sebastian was taking his jacket off, placing away his gun before his wife could complain to him about weapons near the baby. His eyes shined with pride as he watched Y/N stand in front of him, holding their son on her arms, who had taken to hide his face in the middle of her hair. - Someone’s shy today.

   - Guess what. - she walked closer to him, pecking him quickly. - Nate said mumma. 

   - No way. - Sebastian cooed at his son, caressing the top of his head. - You can say mumma, little buddy?

   - Dadda! - Nate shrilled out of pure joy, extending his arms towards him which Sebastian gladly took, kissing the side of his head. 

    - You know, Seb, next time you ask the maid to watch over me at least let me know. - she leaned against him, head on his shoulder. - My father’s security can handle me and Nate when you’re not around, I told you that a million times.

   - Can you blame me for wanting you and him to be safe? 

   - No, I can however blame you for making the hardworking maid work overtime. - she smirked. - How’s New York?

   - It’s rather bleak when you’re not there. 

   - Did you speak with my father? - she questioned, fully knowing Sebastian would probably be questioned by her family back in New York at arrival.

   - Yes and both him and Dan think it’s rude that they’re not invited to Nate’s birthday. 

    - Nate’s not getting a big birthday party, I told them.

    - I know, angel, but you know how much your father likes this little bunny. - Sebastian smiled at his son who had taking to munching his jacket’s collar, eyes looking into the ones exactly like his. - Pretty sure the only reason I’m not dead is because I’m his dad. 

    - C’mon, we need to take Nate’s cake out of the fridge and sing happy birthday before his nap time.

    - It’s his birthday, angel. Can’t he skip night time?

   - Sure, he can. However if he does then we lose night time fun as you’ll be the one to check on him when he tries to climb out the crib. 

   - Birthday cake time it is.  - he followed Y/N into the kitchen, placing his son on his play matt. The baby rolled around, hands gripping several of his toys while his father went to the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist, placing a kiss on her shoulder. - Did you miss me? 

    - Of course I did. - she turned around to kiss him, hands on top of his shoulders as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. - It gets awfully cold when you’re alone in a king size bed. 

   - Mhm, it does get very cold, doesn’t it? - his hands toyed around with the string that held her wrap up dress in place. - Does our son’s birthday also count as my birthday?

  - Why would it count as your birthday? - she furrowed her brows.

  - It’s the anniversary of when I became a father and I think I deserve a little present. - he leaned down to kiss her neck.

  - Well, I think th ...

  - MUMMA! - the babyish voice coming from the living room interrupted her sentence and made Y/N look over Sebastian’s shoulder to see Nate standing on his chubby legs as he took a few small steps towards the kitchen table. 

  - Oh my god. - she ducked under Sebastian’s hold to meet her son midway, grabbing the polaroid camera on the way to take a photo before he fell down or decided to sit down. - You’re walking. Nate, you’re walking!

   - What? - Sebastian turned around, joining his wife who was now sat on the ground with her arms opened towards Nate who quickly walked over to her before falling on top of her chest. - He walked, he just walked!

   - I know. - Y/N picked the baby up, kissing his little fat cheeks. - I’m so proud of you, I’m so proud of you baby Nate.

   - I can’t believe he’s walking already. We need another one.

   - Sebastian, we just had one. 

   - Yeah but he’s walking and he can say mumma and dadda. In no time he’ll be going off to university and won’t want snuggles anymore. 

   - Honey, Nate can’t say anything other than mumma and dadda, is still eating soft solids, and he doesn’t even have all his teeth yet. He won’t be going to university any time soon.

  - No, I think we need another one. A girl this time, so we have one of each.

  - Seb, darling, I don’t think that’s how it works. Besides, wouldn’t you rather wait til Nate is a bit older and doesn’t require attention all the time?

    - I know, it’s just that looking at you with our son makes me want to have at least 10 more kids.

    - I won’t push 10 more kids. - she laughed, kissing his cheek before looking down to Nate who was cuddling her and his bunny. - For now, for now I have everything I could have ever dreamed of.

   - Should we get that cake then? 

   - It’s in the fridge. - Y/N carefully got up, holding her precious baby close to her chest as Sebastian went and grabbed the little cupcake. The ex handmaid placed her son on his high chair as Sebastian put the little cupcake in front of him, lighting a single candle with his lighter which immediately caught the attention of small Nate whose eyes widened in pure joy and curiosity. 

The mob boss wrapped his arm around his wife, kissing the side of her head before the two of them started singing Happy Birthday to little Nate who was clearly more interested in the flame of his candle. Once the song came to an end, both of them cheered, clapping at the baby who looked at his parents in confusion.

  - C’mon, Nate blow the candle. - Sebastian took to be by his son’s side, making a blow motion with his lips. Nate merely turned to his mother, confused at his father’s actions. 

   - Why don’t we do it together? - Y/N stood by her son’s other side, blowing the candle together with Sebastian while Nate giggled, clapping his hands out of pure joy. - Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Mumma loves you, dadda loves you.

The rest of the day went rather uneventful, with Nate making both his parents laugh as he decided to eat the cupcake with his hands, getting his cheeks full of chocolate. He remained awake for a few hours, playing with his father while Y/N read one of her books in the couch, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky to have such a precious son and such a loving husband. As night began to make its presence known and the birthday boy became grumpy, Y/N put him back in his crib returning to the living room to see Sebastian standing on their balcony watching the Tower Eiffel’s lights. Without him noticing, she walked behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso, allowing herself to be involved by the scent of his cologne.

   - Hello there, Mrs. Stan. - he turned around in her embrace, hand going to hold hers. - How about a dance?

   - I can never say no to you, Mr. Stan.

He leaned his head to rest against the space between her neck and shoulder, free hand holding her waist as the two of them moved slowly from side to side. In that moment, no money belonging to her or to him, no empire he’d built or family she inherited mattered for in that moment he had his whole world in his arms and that ... that was enough. 

tag list: @lilya-petrichor​​ @xoxohannahlee​​ @nikkipea​​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​​ @madisonpillstrom​​ @cevans98​​ @thelostallycat​​ @sideeffectsofyou​​ @anxiousdreamersworld​​ @captainchrisstan​​ @lookiamtrying​​ @sarge-barnes-sir​​ @stuffforreferences​​ @thebadassbitchqueen​​ @sebastianstansqueen​​ @nsfwsebbie​​ @strangerliaa​​ @emzd34​​ @everything-is-awesomesauce​​ @dreams-in-blxck​​ @krismeunicornbaobei​​ @buckysteveloki-me​

[waywardxrhea]

Part of Your World - George Weasley

Chapter 18

pairing: George Weasley x fem!Muggle!reader

installment list / previous chapter / next chapter

word count: 618

content: humor, one cheeky/suggestive comment - that's it, that's the chapter lmao, i will be uploading another in the morning

“Okay, now just ease your foot on the brake and-” you started to say until you were cut off as the car slammed to a stop in the near empty car park. You lost your train of thought in a fit of giggles and managed to get out between them, “George, dear, I said easy!” 

“It’s just hard! I’m not used to this! Apparition is so much easier!” George defended himself as he let out a frustrated sigh while throwing the car into park. 

Fred was out for the day with Ginny and Harry along with James, so it gave you some more time to try and teach George how to drive. You had finally gotten your licence when you realised how difficult it was to get to rehearsals from your family's home, and ever since have been trying to convince George to learn. It had been a slow going process though, and today you had finally convinced George to get behind the wheel in a public space. 

You leaned over the centre console and placed a gentle kiss to George’s cheek before telling him, “It’s okay that you’re frustrated. I was too when I started to learn, but just keep a level head and try again okay? Ease into it, just a little at a time.” 

“You know, that’s similar to what you said when-” George said with a mischievous tone to his voice as a smirk broke out onto his face. 

“Uh uh!” you shouted with a bashful laugh as heat creeped onto your cheeks as you realised how your words were taken by your husband. “Cheeky git,” you said with a giggle and a roll of your eyes as George wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

After the two of you finished laughing, George put the car back into drive and began slowly moving around the empty space of the car park, occasionally testing out his braking skills, and eventually getting better at easing into it. A little while into it, you convinced him to attempt to park the car, and he did! Somewhat. He managed to park the car a bit over the line, but it was better progress than earlier in the driving lesson! 

When the two of you got home, Harry and Ginny were already inside with both of the young kids, both of who were miraculously down for a nap in the sitting area. “So, how was the driving lesson?” Ginny asked with a slight smirk on her lips as she sipped on her cuppa. 

George eyed his sister suspiciously as he asked, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason,” she said, a glint of mischief in her eye as her eyes darted toward the camera poking out of her bag. 

“Been taking up photography I see?” you asked with a quiet giggle as you turned to begin making yourself and George some tea as well.

“You could say that,” Ginny replied, covering her smirk with her cup.

“Harry, we’re mates right? You’d tell me if my sister was trying to blackmail me, yeah?” George asked casually as he tried to take the camera out of his sister’s bag only to be stopped by a well placed shield charm on the bag. 

“Not if I want to sleep in my own bed tonight,” Harry replied with a laugh as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. 

“She totally has a picture of him doesn’t she?” you asked as you settled into a chair beside Harry to watch the siblings quietly fight over the camera. 

“Oh, so many,” he confirmed with a chuckle before clicking his cup with yours. You would definitely be asking Ginny for a few of those pictures. 

a/n: sorry i've been MIA, guys! work and life have been crazy! i got to travel and meet one of my besties who i met on here - i got to see her get married! took my first shot with her! fun and wonderful times! then last week, i worked quite literally the longest shift of my life (14.5 hours) on five hours of sleep and then promptly fell ill with the plague (covid) the next day and felt like death, so i just binge watched the punisher in bed! oh and i got a new job that i applied for!

these next few (and closing) chapters are pretty short and sweet slice of life pieces, so i will upload another in the morning (matthew murdock is nagging my brain with thots and begging to be written, so i must go)

anyways! as always, likes and comments are appreciated! xo, brooke <3

Part of Your World: @willowlovestheweasleys @v1ckycheesue @superduckmilkshake @5starl1ght @oneandonlybbygrl

[callmemythicalminx]

Birds and the Bees 4- DBH Connor x Reader

Can be read as a stand alone!

Fandom: Detroit:Become Human

Warning: Talking ‘bout sex, Awkwardness

Summary: Now that you and Connor have been doing ‘The Devil’s Tango’ for a few months now, you’ve noticed something recently that seems too insane to be true. It’s time for you to see if it’s actually possible. 

A/N: I had to write another part of BATB for my first fanfic back after being away for so long. You guys really love this series and it’s one of my favourites too. Every since finishing part 3.5, I always wanted to add more as there’s definitely more ideas to be told with Connor and his innocense. I feel like this might be the last one, but who knows, I might write more in the future...

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

What. The. Fuck! 

This is actually happening. The stick in your hands confirms it- you’re pregnant. For the past two months, you’d noticed that you’d missed a few periods, nearly every morning waking up with a trip to the bathroom to throw up and your tiredness had been getting worse everyday too. You’d had initial ideas that it might just be stress or your irregular cycle making you feel ill, but eventually you had to come to the absolutely insane idea that you may actually be pregnant with Connor’s baby. 

You’d tried to put off taking a test because your mind refused to believe this could be happening. Not that you don’t want a kid, you’d love to have little versions of Connor and yourself running around. But you want kids much further in the future. And also, there’s the teeny tiny odd question of how the hell this has happened! You’re human. Connor is an android. For this exact reason, the two of you haven’t been bothering with protection with all the sex you’ve been having, as you’re both clean and your boyfriend is infertile- or so you thought. 

You don’t even know how he’s going to react to this. Will he be happy or sad? And how is everyone else going to react? Yourself and Connor have only been dating for over a year, so it’s much too soon to be having children. You take in a deep breath, sighing as you move your hands down to your stomach.

“I don’t know how you got in there little Floobie, but here you are. God, I hope your Daddy is gonna be okay with this”.

You walk into the living room to see Connor seated on the couch trying to complete one of his puzzles, the stick containing the proof of your future feeling like a burning weight in your sweaty palm as you approach him. 

“Connor? I- I uh- I have something I need to show you” You announce, breaking him from his deep concentration as he stares at the pieces in his hand.

“Y/N? Is everything alright? You look really pale and I can detect your temperature rising rapidly”.

You let out a short laugh, walking forward to rest your free hand on his arm as you take a seat beside him. “I’m fine Connor, I’m just a little nervous. I’ve just found out some big news”. He opens his mouth to question you, but your worried look has him stopping short. Instead of telling him, you decide to instead place the test in his hand so he can see it for himself.

As you move to do so, a million thoughts race through Connor’s mind. Are you sick? Are you leaving him? Are you finally gonna get a dog and you’re putting a collar in his hand? With trepidation, he opens his palm as your closed hand begins to open, his eyes flickering quickly as he tries to figure out what you’re about to give him. When the light weight of the stick falls into his hand, his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion and he tilts his head slightly to the side. You hold your breath as he brings the test closer to his face, his face tilting (nearly touching his shoulder now) as he inspects it. 

You wait for a reaction, a smile or a frown, anything. But he just continues to look at it. You begin to fear the worse when he finally looks up at you and-

“It’s not working”.

You copy his earlier movement as your own head now turns in confusion, looking at Connor's oddly very calm face. 

“What-what do you mean? I just used it. I just used three of them actually to make sure it was right”.

“So you are ill then? Y/N, darling, you should have just come to me, you didn’t need to waste your money buying these things. I am quite advanced with this sort of health observation, thanks to Cyberlife, but you already know that. Which is why I don’t understand why you’d-”.

“Wait, hold on Connor, what do you think this actually is” You ask, incredulously.

 “Um… A thermometer. As I said darling, it’s quite easy for me to simply look at you and take an accurate reading of your temperature, in fact I’ve noticed recently-”.

“Connor I’m pregnant”. 

He stops for just a moment. Then…

“Oh yes, I already know. Like I was saying, I’ve noticed recently that your bodily readings have been different than usual these past few months and on more than one occasion, I have detected that you’ve been sick in the mornings and hid it from me. I was getting so worried that I just decided to do a full body scan while you were sleeping one night and that’s when I realised there was new life growing inside you”.

“Connor… I-I… You... You knew I was pregnant?! W- why didn’t you tell me?”.

“I thought you already knew? Because of your periods? When a woman discontinues having a monthly release of blood, is it clear to see that she’s pregnant with new life. That and you haven’t been buying any new sanitary products or telling me to go out on calorie hauls everytime you go through that specific time”.

You breathe a deep sigh, of both relief and shock. In fairness, you probably should have realised Connor would have been able to sense you were pregnant- he is the most advanced detective android there is. You guess that your disbelieving of the possibility of this happening also overlooked the fact that your boyfriend is a robot genius.

“If you already thought I was pregnant, did you not question why I hadn’t told you?”

He looks away sheepishly, lifting his hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I thought this was something that women just deal with on their own, the male doesn’t really do much in most cases of animals. The female is the one who cares for the baby with her body, the male is just there to protect and keep them both safe. So I thought it was just a way for you to keep ‘the bun in the oven’ to make sure you’re looking after it okay”. 

You blink. You blink again. Then you let out a small laugh and bury your face in your hands shaking your head. That has to be the weirdest thing to come out of your boyfriend's mouth, even after everything he’s said these past few months. When you look back up at Connor again, you see him looking at you, head titled again and you let out another laugh, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. 

“Oh Connor… We’re not animals, even though we do act like them sometimes, especially rabbits,” You let out another small laugh, while Connor smiles nodding in agreement “, Couples bring their babies into the world together, supporting each other. Granted the woman does do pretty much all of the work, but the man doesn’t just ‘protect’ and keep them safe, though it is appreciated. They help keep the mother healthy, comfortable, relaxed, loved- like you will right? You do want this baby don’t you Connor?”

“Of course, this is what I’ve wanted since we first made love”.

“Wait… what?”.

“Well, ever since you told me that sex is primarliy to create new life, I have been questioning Cyberlife about installing a new function within me to make me fertile. Though I have been quite enjoying our love making, I still haven’t been able to get the thought out of my head that we haven’t been doing it properly. So thankfully, Cyberlife agreed, on the grounds that it will be a good step in the right direction of progressing human-android relations”.

“So when did you become fertile?”.

“About half a year ago, maybe more”.

“Jesus, Connor, we’ve been having so much sex, it’ll be a wonder if I’m not pregant with twins”.

“I know, I’m surprised it took that long for you to become pregnant. And, statistically speaking, twins are only 3-4 out of every 1000 births, and there are many contributing factors. Sex can contribute to some extent, but it in our case it seems to have helped massively. Just last night, I did a scan again and saw that there are in fact two life forms inside you- how did you know darling?”

“Only 3-4 out of every 1000 births, eh? Well, that’s- WAIT WHAT?!?”

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

“What the fuck?! Twins” Hank utters as he places his half eaten burger down on his arm rest. 

To be honest, it probably wasn’t the best idea for you and Connor to tell him that you're having two children at this specific moment in time, eating the food that you had brought him for dinner to help ease this situation. The smarter thing to do would have been to tell him before, then give him the burger and drink from his favourite takeaway to calm him down. But as you sit there next to Connor with guilty smiles on your faces as you look at a horrified Hank who looks like he’s gonna be sick, you definitely know you should have told him sooner. 

“Wait, wait, wait, how is this even possible?! You’re an android and Y/N’s human, how does that work?”

You begrudgingly reply “It’s a long story”.

Connor however has no shame and immediately launches into re-telling the story of how you two began having sex. You have no power to stop him as you know this story is getting told no matter what because he is Connor afterall, so you simply sit back and stare down at your wine glass in embarrassment, feeling like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. 

Every once in a while, you’ll look up and see Hank growing progressively more green as your boyfriend retells how he first asked about sex and then anal, and then your many different sexual escapades including the one where he was in a meeting with Amanada, and then finally how you got pregant. Connor, still as innocent as ever, goes into great, unneeded detail not realising that this isn’t something he should really be telling his dad. Even Sumo looks sick, paws nearly over his ears as he lays at your feet. 

Finally after some time to reflect on what has just been said to him, Hank, looking equivalent to a cucumber in colour and looking faint, mumbles “So you two rabbits have been doing it everywhere huh?”.

As Connor happily nods in response, you sit in shame, taking a much needed gulp of wine, then another as Hank takes a big sip of his own drink.

 “We even did it on your desk.

Wine. Soda. Everywhere. Again.

*Sigh*

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

A/N: I realise a year later that I wrote the reader to be drinking alcohol during this... while she's pregnant. Don't drink if you're pregnant fellas, my dumbass forgot that 😌

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Nineteen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome, one and all! I hope your day is going well. Tagging @anonymouscosmos​, @culturalrebel​, @mercy-and-malice​, @deepkittycollecto​, @nelba​, @mechanicalism​ and @commandershepardshtole. Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

Part Seventeen: Preparations

Part Eighteen: Divide And Conquer

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains distressing flashbacks, gratuitous violence and extreme emotional duress. Stay safe!]

Paladin Logan Danse, pride of the Brotherhood of Steel, had never really considered that he may not be the sharpest tool in the shed. Oh certainly, he had heard many a 'Paladin Dense' joke in his time with the Brotherhood; his name made it far too simple to engage in semi-witty wordplay.

  Here and now though, facing down seven coursers with nothing except his laser rifle and power armor, he was beginning to slightly... slightly doubt his own intelligence. 

  The first courser was managed easily enough, rushing him in a suicidal dash. Danse blew their head off without missing a beat, continuing his march forward. The worst part of it all was the silent hatred he felt radiating from the coursers, like a thick miasma of ill will. He wondered pointlessly whether this was how he would meet his end. Trapped in the sterile halls of the Institute, torn apart by this rabid crew of synth hunters.

  "I escaped from you all before, if your records are accurate." The paladin snarled as two of the coursers vanished into thin air. "I doubt any of you would recall. I myself do not recall much of this place."

  The spinal recalibration chair crouched in the center of the white room, needles gleaming in the brilliant light--

  A laser pinged! off his chest plating and Danse bared his teeth, taking another step forward. "I know all of your weaknesses, every last one of them. You might as well give up and face Commonwealth justice." He advised them sternly, brandishing his laser rifle in further threat. 

  "Forget about him, go and find Vega!" One of the cloaked coursers spat from somewhere behind Danse's back. "Father wants her dea--" The paladin pulled a sharp turn, putting a laser bolt directly through the invisible courser's skull with... alarmingly precise accuracy. Of course, that may have been their tactic to begin with. A body crashed against his back and Danse heard the tell-tale alert beep of an unmounted fusion core.

  "A Brotherhood soldier is nothing without their power armor." The third courser taunted while Danse slowed under the ponderous weight of his armor. However, the courser's confidence was short-lived as the paladin used the little momentum he did have to instead fall backwards, crushing the synth beneath the massive frame of his armor. 

  The fusion core clattered and spun just out of reach on the floor, but Danse didn't even have the time to think about moving to grab it before two coursers were on him. Gloved hands clawed at his helmet; a fist slammed into the side of the metal with a resounding impact. Thank Steel the gorget seal held, and Danse managed to move his arm quickly enough to batter one of the coursers away with the sheer bulk of the gauntlet alone. The courser crashed into the wall and slumped to the ground, lifeless.

  Danse frantically tried to count in his head, tried to recall how many coursers he still had to manage. He could barely move, already stringing himself along on little but adrenaline and the promise of seeing the sun again. How many hours had they been down here? It seemed like an eternity.

  What would the EMP do to him? God, should he even risk it? 

  The paladin dragged himself up onto one knee, scrabbling at his waist for the grenade while that other courser seized the back of his helmet and ripped it off. The crackle of his mouthpiece dislodging itself from the helmet to dangle limp over his gorget seemed almost too loud.

  Danse pulled the pin on the EMP as the square barrel of a laser rifle buried itself beside his ear, and his world went white.

  …

  The smooth, cool surface of the floor that his cheek rested on was the only thing he could feel. 

  - No! Voice cracking, screaming as he was wrestled down into the chair by the scientists, needles punching through his skin until the largest caliber ground into the nape of his neck please don't please don't -

  - No! Cutler shrieking, misshapen green flesh pouring out around the strangling confines of his armor, his eyes gone mad but it's still him it's still him I can't -

  - No! Elizabeth collapsing on top of him, the heat of her blood soaking through his shirt, her whole body thrown between he and Maxson no no no no NO -

  Danse noticed, with a sense of detached horror, that his heart appeared to have stopped. The lack of pulse rang in his ears, one agonal gasp crushed his chest and then another rattled his body while everything in him fought to inhale. His consciousness was fading, flickering out like a candle in a gale as his rate of respiration continued to plummet.

  Elizabeth, I'm so sorry .

  His eyes were heavy, gritty with exhaustion. He should sleep. Just for a moment. 

  "- anse? Danse! Paladin Danse!"

  Someone was yelling his name, and another voice that was closer shouted, "Open fire on the courser! Advance to secure the paladin!"

  Suddenly, his heart shuddered to life, his pulse returning with a vengeance that seemed like it would deafen him. Danse heaved in a gasp of air, wheezing, body awash with clammy sweat as he tried to turn his head. Nausea sent his stomach rolling at the motion and a headache throbbed behind his eyes but he was alive --

  Boots on the floor beside his head, someone standing over his body. "Grab his core and plug it back in! We need to get out of here!" Minutemen, Minutemen . It was Delta squadron doing their final sweep. Muskets roared overhead like death from above, the cacophony serving to further deafen the battered paladin. 

  He forced himself up onto his left elbow so that one of the Minutemen could slam the fusion core home in his back plating. The servos in Danse's armor creaked and groaned once more, and the paladin rose with relative ease. 

  "Our egress has been secured, sir!" A young soldier informed him loudly, her cheek smeared with the blood that trickled from her left ear. 

  Danse, still queasy and unsteady after his near death experience ( had he technically died? Did synths die? ), simply nodded and reached to accept his helmet from another Minuteman. 

  A laser bolt cracked! off the side of the helmet and the Minuteman dropped it in surprise. Danse lurched around, hauling up his gauntlet to shield his head from the next bolt that came. His free hand shot out of its own volition and he grabbed... something , slamming it back against the wall with all his strength 

  The courser flickered into view, Danse's gauntlet wrapped around his throat. The paladin almost wanted to wonder at his good fortune, but then the synth simply evaporated out of his grasp. " Dammit , his emergency relay." Danse swore hoarsely.

  "Sir, we don't have time. The reactor is due to go at any second!" The armored man was all but dragged along, pushed and herded by the soldiers around him. His heart kept skipping beats, leaving him breathless and lightheaded as he struggled to keep up with his battalion.

  "What news do we have of General Vega?" He yelled to anyone that would answer him. The shot from the courser had entirely destroyed what was left of the two-way transmitter in his helmet, rendering him unable to communicate with their main forces.

  "No news, sir! Alpha squadron has already pulled out! We have reports from squadrons Echo, Foxtrot and Golf that synths have been sighted relaying in to their respective territories!" One of the soldiers replied, his tones clipped to be heard over the sound of the cabal's battle-rattle. "No word from Beta squadron on casualties yet, and Charlie is still waiting on us as of two minutes ago!"

  The paladin cursed under his breath, his step hitching and nearly causing him to fall. Elizabeth, please , please be alive! He wasn't sure who he was praying to, or even why the hell he was bothering. He should have known better than to think his foolhardy plan to secure her escape would work.

  Back through the old robotics area they stormed, everyone moving doubletime at this point. Alarms blaring overhead, PA system calmly announcing their fast-diminishing window to flee. Blood trickled down into his eyes from somewhere up on his scalp, stinging badly enough to briefly take Danse's mind off of his other injuries.

  The door at the top of the stairs was wide open, and Danse's relief was crippling when he spied Sturges still at the control panel. The engineer whooped upon seeing the ragged group of men and women. "First in, last out! Now let's get the hell outta' here!" He shouted, waving the soldiers into the relay area. "We only got a minute or so until the whole place goes!"

  Danse opened his mouth to ask whether Sturges had already transported Vega, but he was too late. Blue-white energy crackled and fizzled around him and the next thing he knew, he was being unceremoniously deposited on the ground in the shadow of the Prydwen.

  …

  "General, it's time." Preston said quietly. Backhand stared off into the distance, every fresh crackle of radio static making her heart drop. "We have to get this done. It needs to be finished," he continued when she stayed silent. "If you can't push it, that's fine. I know we did our best." 

  Reports had come in left and right that synths were being sighted across the Commonwealth, emergency relays dropping them in the most random of places. Every squadron had been accounted for, aside from Delta and Charlie. 

  "Did we do the right thing, Preston?" Backhand breathed. "Just think of all the good -"

  "I don't think we'll ever know for certain, General. That's the reality of these kinds of scenarios. But you don't need me to tell you that." Preston interjected, his practical words shoring up her limited resolve. "You want me to do this?"

  Vega closed her eyes, nodding rapidly. She heard the rustle of that outrageous coat, and a moment later there was the soft click of the charge being armed. 

  "It's done, General."

  "Thank you, Preston." Vega sank down on the rooftop, tugging her knees into her chest and burying her face in them. The distant explosion tore a sob from her throat and as the Institute collapsed in on itself, General Vega dissolved into tears.

  It felt like an eternity before Preston coaxed her to her feet, the lieutenant pressing his canteen into her hands. "Drink." He urged, his own eyes less than dry. " Drink , General. You're gonna' be okay. We'll get back to the Prydwen, back to your son. It'll all be just fine."

  "I know." Vega mumbled through a mouthful of stale water, doing her best to ignore the plume of smoke that rose in the distance. "I'm okay, I promise. It's just a lot. I'm okay." She tried to assure Preston, huffing at his watery chuckle.

  "No, you're not. You're exhausted and busted up and scared. This is a hell of a thing we've done, you've done. It's okay to be overwhelmed." Preston reasoned, grimacing. "We've got a decent walk back, if you need to talk."

  "What about you , though? How are you holding up?"

  "I'm not sure if it's real yet." Preston admitted. "It'll take some getting used to. But...I'm glad to know that we don't have to fear the Institute anymore."

  His lapel radio crackled, Pride squadron requesting verification on successful detonation.

  "Relay our message to the Castle: mission accomplished, the Institute has been leveled. I repeat, mission accomplished." Preston replied into the handset, seeming a little shell-shocked at being able to say the words.

  Mission accomplished .

  Backhand sniffled, a new wave of emotion threatening to send her spiraling yet again. 

  Shaun . The synthetic child. A child. A son . A second chance that she didn't deserve.

  She fished the holotape he had given her out of her pocket, slotting it into her Pip Boy after a momentary struggle. To her shock, it was Father's voice that issued from the speaker.

  " If you are hearing this, then whatever conflicts you and I have endured are over… "

  …

  Danse wandered across the airport tarmac, some distant part of him aware that he was in a state of shock. He had dropped his helmet. Where, he couldn't say. His head was still bleeding and he was certain that other areas of his body needed medical attention, but he couldn't seem to get himself to stop searching the area for Elizabeth.

  He hadn't seen her, the child or that courser that had warned them of the ambush. His heart sank as he wondered whether the synth had simply been a tool to get him out of the way, separating the paladin from Vega.

  Why had Vega parted from Alpha squadron in the first place? Oh surely, he knew exactly why. She had wanted to confront that man who had once been her son on her own. But it had been reckless , and it may have cost them dearly. 

  Danse groaned, very nearly attempting to rub his eyes before he remembered he was still in his armor and he would probably blind himself in the process. 

  All around him were wounded Minutemen, scribes and aspirants rushing back and forth to try and mediate the damage that had been done. The synths and scientists were easy to spot, each one clad in brilliant white Institute garb. They huddled together in small groups, some crying, some silent, others staring around wide-eyed in wonder. 

  Danse realized suddenly that this would be the first time many of them had even seen the sun. He must have been like them once, all curiosity and fear. He shook his head, more blood dripping into his eye causing him to wince. The paladin grunted, clumsily smearing the trickle from his hairline across his forehead with his gauntlet. It must be mixing with his sweat. 

  "Danse!" That voice…

  The paladin racked his brain, trying to recall the name of the person who owned the voice. 

  It started with a P. 

  Writing. Writer? Wright .

  Piper?

  The woman materialized out of the throngs of scribes, her cap set at a steep angle. In her hand she clutched a battered notepad, and she waved it furiously as if to get Danse's attention. "Hey, big fella'! Over here!" She called, rocking on her heels impatiently while the paladin trudged towards her. "What the hell happened to you in there? You look like a stretch of lonely road!"

  Danse hiccupped, trying for a salute. His arms felt like lead. "I...There was--I-I was separated-" The words wouldn't come, the paladin still reeling from his near-death experience, the loss of Vega, everything , it was too much.

  Was he crying?  

  "Oh Danse, hey, c'mon, easy." Piper soothed, one hand tentatively hovering over his right gauntlet. "It's okay big fella', it's alright." 

  Danse shook his head, utterly mortified as he tried to regulate his sobs. 

  "I was about to ask for a full run-down from a tactical perspective. Y'know, to uh, ease the fears of the Commonwealth populace at large. but I can see that you're in a...er, state right now." Her attempt at delicacy didn't go unnoticed and Danse gritted his teeth. His hands clenched into tight fists as he fought to get himself back under control. These damn emotions-!

  "The operation appears to have been successful." He rasped finally. "We are still...waiting on confirmation. But I am c--I am confident in our success. I am...uncertain of our losses. My two-way was destroyed in the fracas." He gestured at the mangled mess of wires and what was left of the coupling attached to his gorget. God only knew where he had dropped his helmet, but it didn't really matter. If the coursers tearing it off of him hadn't broken the two-way wholly, that final laser had finished the job. "I have no method of communication, I'm afraid. We should...we should find the field scribes and comms."

  Danse could feel the haze of trauma dissipating the longer he spoke, the tactical compartmentalization that had served him so well taking over once more. There would be time later to mourn what he had lost. Right now, it was the Brotherhood's sworn duty to ensure that the Commonwealth remained safe and, more importantly, informed .

  "Come with me, Miss Wright." He ordered, using the advantage of his height to search for the elevated ground of their radio shelter.

  "It's Piper ."

  …

  Vega's boots kicked up a cloud of dust, her footsteps weary. Preston was silent alongside her, the young man clearly deep in thought. Backhand was still reeling from the holotape, Father's words playing over and over in her mind...

  I had hoped to gift this child to you as some sort of consolation for losing me all those years ago, but your actions have proven you unreasonable. If you are hearing this message, no doubt you have found this unit's corpse and stripped it clean.

  Did you think I had no idea you were working with the Brotherhood? The Railroad? You cannot be so naive, Mother. I am merely stunned that it took you so long to gather your forces.

  On the off chance that your bloodlust can be slaked before the total destruction of everything I have built, I would ask that you still take this...synth. This boy, rather, as you would no doubt insist on calling him, has been programmed to believe he is your son. Should he survive you and whatever rampant destruction you have planned, I ask that you raise him as your own. 

  You have no real reason to do so, of course. There would be no tangible benefit, and I know all too well of your callous disregard for life.

  Sleep easy tonight, knowing that you've rid the Commonwealth of its greatest hope for prosperity.

  Backhand cleared her throat. "Preston, do you-" She hesitated. "What if I'm not...what if I'm not cut out for this mom stuff? What if all I'm good for is military shit?" The woman asked plaintively. "I was willing to do anything for my son, back before the bombs dropped. But now...I mean, what the hell kind of life can I even offer to the...to Shaun?"

  "A life at all, I suppose. The freedom to choose." 

  Backhand closed her eyes, forcing a breath out. "Yeah?"

  "Yeah. I think so, anyway. You've fought so hard for folks you don't even know, General! And it isn't like you'd be doin' it alone." Preston reasoned with a smile. "If it seems a little too overwhelming, just remember: there at a moment's notice . We're with you, no matter what."

  "I was kinda' hoping I'd put you guys out of a job!" Vega tried to joke.

  "Nah, we've still got a lot of work to do. Commonwealth's a big place, General." Preston patted her shoulder, waving to the sentries on the Brotherhood retaining walls at the airport. Far overhead loomed Liberty Prime, all gangly steel limbs as its head slowly turned back and forth in a scanning motion.

  Vega began skimming the crowds of wounded from force of habit, her eyes stopping dead at the sight of a black leather coat.

  X6-88 . The courser looked dazed, a singular patch of reddened gauze gracing his forehead. His body was still wrapped protectively around the child, around Shaun , who seemed to be sound asleep. The synth kept snarling at anyone who got too close. Vega wondered who on earth had managed to dress his head. Had someone just tossed him a gauze pack and fled in terror?

  She received her answer a second later as Curie emerged from the crowd, the young woman sporting her usual nearly-spotless white coat to denote her medical ability. X6 would have known her by a different name, however.

  G5-19 . 

  Backhand's heart broke at the way that the courser was obviously struggling to contain himself, the general watching Curie swap out the soaked gauze for a fresh bandage. When Curie reached for Shaun though, X6 said something to her that made her tilt her head in confusion.

  "- know me? Monsieur Courser, I am afraid I do not have zee pleasure." She was saying as Vega and Preston drew within earshot.

  "You were...in the Institute, I...we knew each other." X6 replied in a fragmentary fashion.

  "Ah! I must apologize, Monsieur Courser. I am afraid zat zis body was wiped nearly clean when I acquired it. Zee original owner was in a catatonic state. Somezing about EMP grenades and raiders, if I recall." The former Nanny bot squinted at the courser, pursing her lips. "And yet, you are... strangely familiar! Ah, zis body is a marvel." She continued cheerily, producing two small, plastic-wrapped snack cakes from her doctor's coat. "One for you, and one for zee child when he wakes." 

  X6-88 accepted the prepackaged treats with a nod, spotting Elizabeth over Curie's shoulder. "General Vega, is it?" The courser asked, his voice weary.

  "How you holdin' up, X6?" Vega queried in turn, startled when the killing machine offered her a tight-lipped nod.

  "The wound is not too grievous, even with the limited amount of medical prowess it seems the surface has. She appears to believe I will survive."

  "Madame Vega, it is such a relief to see you in one piece!" Curie exclaimed warmly, the synth hauling her into a hug and planting a kiss on either cheek. "It would appear your mission was a success, yes?"

  "I'd say so." Preston answered for Vega, the lieutenant observing the courser with a fair amount of trepidation. "General, are you sure you...uh. Well, y'know."

  "Lieutenant Garvey," Preston flinched when X6 used his name, "If I intended to cause you harm, you would already be dead." 

  Remarkably , that attempt at reassurance did very little, and Vega smacked herself on the forehead as Preston went a touch gray. "You sure keep some interesting company, General." He commented, his voice cracking.

  "Listen, I said you'd be safe and I'm a woman of my word. But please don't give any of these Brotherhood weirdos an excuse to shoot you." Backhand requested of the courser. "If you want, I'll take over on babysitting duty and you can get the hell out of here. I know it probably feels like you're sitting in the middle of a hornet's nest."

  X6-88 hesitated, his eyes darting to Curie and then back to the general. "I will stay, ma'am." He answered her staunchly, looking weary all of a sudden.

  "Okay. But if you do want to leave, just have them walkie for me. Find basically anyone with a radio. You don't have to stay if you don't want to, I need that to be clear. You're free to go wherever you want, X6."

  "I…" The courser's brow furrowed and he merely nodded silently after a moment, readjusting his grip on the sleeping Shaun. 

  Vega knew she had so much to do, so much to continue planning, but she took a self-indulgent second to brush Shaun's hair back out of his eyes. Dark, dark brown, almost black, just like his father…

  Elizabeth smiled sadly, and then set off in the direction of the communications tent.

  …

  "No word from her yet, sir. Lieutenant Garvey told us of the success of the mission, but it is unclear if she is with him or not." 

  The field scribe's words burrowed into Danse's gut like a knife. Fear, anxiety, the unstoppable creeping sensation of realizing that he had been too late or not enough -

  The paladin shoved the emotions down, all too aware of Piper waiting at his elbow with baited breath. "The reports from the other squadrons then, Scribe."

  "Emergency relays began to activate at five minutes to meltdown, sir. Several synths were spotted in the outskirts of Diamond City and were quickly scooped up by the citizens of Goodneighbor, or Golf squadron, in conjunction with John D.'s forces." The young man replied, tugging one side of his headset off of his ears. "Foxtrot and Echo encountered the most resistance, as a platoon of coursers and gen one synths were sent to both the Castle and Bunker Hill. It seems that both locations held out well. Minimal casualties reported."

  "What's your take on this whole situation, bud? Would you consider this a victory?" Piper asked, leaning around Danse to speak with the scribe. "Enquiring minds want to know!"

  "I-I am not at liberty to pass judgement, civilian, b-but it seems that the operation has gone well!" The scribe stammered, darting his eyes at Danse as if fearful of the paladin's discipline.

  Danse snorted, a touch amused despite the distress that threatened to engulf him. Piper was far more formidable than a cursory glance would assume. It wasn't Danse that this young man needed to be concerned about.

  The doorway at the other end of the tent was flung open, sunset light pouring in with the influx of more bodies from the triage area. Danse didn't really pay any mind to it, more invested in hearing the rest of the field scribe's report. 

  That is, until a certain voice broke through the dull roar of radio static and muffled transmissions. "I need news of Delta squadron!" Vega barked, "particularly of Paladin Danse! Who has eyes on Danse?"

  The scribe across from the dumbfounded paladin looked up at him slack-jawed, then bolted to his feet. "G-General Vega, ma'am! The paladin-!"

  "Elizabeth." Danse breathed, his voice nearly inaudible as he straightened up from the table. 

  When her eyes met his, it was as if something broke inside him. Danse covered the ground between them in a heartbeat, gathering her into a fierce, armored embrace. " Logan! " Vega cried, her arms flinging open to cling to his sides. He almost dared to believe that she sounded relieved or delighted . "You're okay, you're okay, thank fuck ." She mumbled against his breastplate, clutching the lucky bandanna she had tied to his arm like she wasn't sure if he was real. "We did it, we did it, holy shit." 

  Vega appeared to be in a state of shock, finally lifting her head from Danse's chest when Piper hollered, "Blue!", the reporter hugging her from behind and sandwiching the general between herself and Danse. 

  Danse's heart ached as he watched Vega dissolve into tears, Piper gripping her tight and his own hold unwavering. Preston entered the tent as well, the younger man clapping Danse on the pauldron to congratulate him on his survival.

  We did it .

Part Twenty

[corinnesamuels]

Guarding the Gates Chapter 5: Desperation Makes a Man Do Terrible Things

Lily isn’t responding to James’ letters. In fact, she isn’t even opening them. She knows that he knows this because Sirius told her that he told him so. 

She knows that she’ll stop ignoring him eventually, but until then? He can sulk. 

She tells Remus as much one day when he calls her on the Floo. 

“You’re driving him crazy, you know.” Remus says. His voice holds no judgment, just the facts of the matter.

“He’s a full-grown wizard, Remus. He’ll be fine.” Lily sits cross-legged on the rug in front of her fireplace, lazily popping a crisp into her mouth and giving a cavalier shrug. 

“For whatever it’s worth, he agrees with you. He’s trying to figure out how to agree with you without pushing her away.”

“I know he does.” Lily rolls her eyes at the mention of her. “He wears his heart on his sleeve like he always has. My frustration lies in the fact that he allows her ridiculous comments to go on so often. If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d never allow—”

“What you once did?” Remus asks.

Lily stops, caught off guard by the statement. The Marauders rarely mentioned or referenced Severus Snape by choice anymore. She hasn’t heard anyone mention her former friend in several years, actually. But Lily knew that Remus was referencing how she had allowed Severus to share his inhospitable thoughts about James, though, at the time, she and James were only mildly friendly. They hadn’t become close until after she and Severus had stopped being friends. She slowly chews another crisp, mulling over Remus’ comment.

“This situation is different. And that was a long time ago.” 

Lily knows her words aren’t lies, but she also knows that Remus’ words aren’t either.

“It is, and it was.” Remus agrees fairly. “I only hope that you would remember it just enough to extend him some grace as he figures this out. He doesn’t want to lose either of you.”

Lily lets out an annoyed sigh. “I don’t understand how he can be with someone who doesn’t understand what’s happening. How is he not annoyed and frustrated by the way she thinks? How? When we’ve seen him hex people for less?”

Remus hesitates, tilting his head slightly. “I won’t weigh in on that. But I’d imagine people never know what they would do in a war until it’s on their doorstep. That’s where Miranda probably is. But he would lay his life down to protect you.” He catches her eye through the green flames in the fireplace. “You do know that? That we all would?”

“I wouldn’t allow it.” Lily says obstinately.

Remus chuckles. “It’s my understanding that you don’t always have a choice in the matter when the time comes.” She hears a door open and shut in the background, followed by heavy footsteps.

“Moony, have you seen . . . oh, who are you talking to?” a voice asks.

Lily rolls her eyes. “Really, Remus?”

Remus winces apologetically, and she sees James’ shins stiffen at hearing her voice. “I’m at Sirius’ place.” Remus says. “I didn’t know he was coming over this early.” 

“He’s right. I wasn’t due for another few hours.” James says. “But I’ll let the two of you have at it.” His tone is neutral, and Lily knows it’s forced.

She thinks about telling him thanks and carrying on her conversation with Remus but sighs heavily again instead. It’s been two weeks. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss him. “If you’d still like to talk, come through the Floo. I’m waiting on some treacle to finish up, so you might as well.”

She can only see just above his kneecaps, but she can tell his whole body relaxes at her words. Not only is treacle tart his favorite, but it is also the extent of her culinary prowess, potions skills be damned. Euphemia had taught her how to make it over the course of several lazy summer days at the manor, and while other recipes never seemed to stick, this one had. 

Lily hadn’t put much thought into why she decided to make treacle today. Until now, that is. Though the idea is unsettling, Lily realizes that even though she was angry with James and her feelings were bruised, she’d made it because she missed him. Her brain was just now catching up.

How many times had she made it while abroad? For the same exact reason?

James steps through her fireplace and dusts himself off. He looks uncertain as to where to sit or stand or even what to do with his hands. She remains seated at her place on the floor, silently looking up at him, knowing the uncomfortable silence was doing him in. Finally, she gestures at the space next to her, and he joins her on the floor.

James starts talking before he even makes it to the ground. “Lils, I’m so incredibly sorry. I didn’t mean for things to go as far as they did.” He says I wasn’t prepared for you and Miranda to be at odds, but I should have stepped in. I should have done more.”

“You should have.” Lily nods in agreement.

“I don’t agree with the things she’s said, Lily.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t realize that she didn’t see what was happening with Voldemort. I just assumed that she viewed things the same way the boys and I do. I’ve been trying to figure out how to handle the conversations with her, but I haven’t done a good enough job, clearly.” James lets out a heavy sigh. “I never meant for you to be hurt in the process. And I know that doesn’t change how it probably feels. I felt terrible about it. I still feel terrible about it.”

Lily watches as James’ gaze moves from her to the floor to other areas of her flat, as if he’s ashamed to look at her for too long. “I’m not asking you to pick me over her.” She responds, keeping her voice level. “I just want to not have to be the first person to step in and handle the situation every time. It’s exhausting to have to defend my kind against someone who seems to be woefully and purposefully misinformed.”

James sighs again. “I won’t argue against that. But I talked to her, and I think she’s starting to get it now. There was an article in the Prophet last week and—well . . .” He clears his throat. “It opened her eyes to some things. But you haven’t been wrong. And I owe you an apology for letting things escalate without stepping up. You deserve more from me as a friend. You’ll get more.”

She ponders this for a moment as he holds her gaze, longer this time than before. She has no goodwill left in her for Miranda, but she trusts James to stick to his word. She scans his face and eyes before extending a pinky toward him. James is confused at first, but as his mind catches up, he laughs and links it with a pinky of his own.

“Pinky swear?” she asks.

“Pinky swear.” He confirms. She notices that his whole demeanor has changed, his shoulders look lighter, and the distressed look she’d seen when he came through her fireplace has given way to a soft smile. It looks better on him.

“So, catch me up then. What’s new in your world since I last opened one of your letters?” she asks. James looks as if he wants to roll his eyes but doesn’t want to push his luck.

He fills her in on Puddlemere’s new Seeker and his hopes for how it will increase their chances for the English Cup before sharing how excited and anxious he is to begin practicing with the rest of the English team in the World Cup. She can’t help but smile as he describes it, she’d always loved watching his eyes light up when he talked about Quidditch. He asks about her, and she tells him about her recent trip to the cinema with Dorcas and Mary to see the newest installment of their favorite spy film series.

“That Band bloke? The less dashing, less talented James?” he scoffs in jest. Lily rolls her eyes and pushes his shoulder.

“It’s Bond, James, and don’t act like you don’t know it.”

    Now that Lily and James had made up, it felt as if all of their friends were breathing a little easier, though some of it may have to do with the fact that Miranda was around less and less, and never when Lily was present. Sometimes that meant that James had to leave early to take her to dinner, or sometimes missed hanging out altogether, but no one complained.

With the tension in their group diminished, it becomes more and more difficult for Remus to hide his struggles. He’s beginning to look thinner, and his clothes more threadbare. Lily knows that he’s painting it as the usual side effects of an approaching full moon, but Lily isn’t fooled. His latest job had gotten suspicious of his monthly absences and decided that it was best that they part ways. 

That was two months ago. He hadn’t yet managed to find work again.

Lily mentions this to James and Sirius as she brews a few healing potions to help Remus’ recovery after the upcoming full moon. Peter is at work, and Remus, getting progressively more ill as the full moon looms closer, is at his flat attempting to rest up, though they all know that there is no rest to be found until after the full moon passes. 

“Sirius, did you come to pick up these potions and salves for Remus, or did you come to eat all of my snacks?” She asks dryly as he helps himself to the various wares in her scullery. 

“I believe it’s what the muggles call ‘two birds with one stone,’ Red.” Sirius replies. Lily rolls her eyes as James attempts to stifle a laugh. 

“Sirius and I have both offered to support him, but he won’t take it.” James says, going back to the conversation at hand.

“His pride is making it very difficult.” Sirius grumbles.

“Your pride would make things difficult too if you were worried about being a burden.” Lily points out. “Is there a way we could subtly get him to take help?”

“You mean tricking him into it?” James asks.

“It sounds distasteful when you say it like that.” She frowns.

“Call it whatever you want, Evans, but you might be onto something.” James responds as he begins pacing. “I could talk to Dad and make Sunday tea at the manor a more regular occurrence.” 

“We could also drop food and things off at his door and disapparate before he has time to reject them.” Sirius offers as he pops a pretzel into his mouth. 

“Oh! I could ‘accidentally’ overcook meals a few times a week!” Lily says, proud of her excellent idea. “Surely Remus won’t let the food go to waste.”

James stops pacing, and the pretzel Sirius had begun tossing into his mouth misses, hitting him in the eye instead. The two men exchange looks before James opens and closes his mouth, trying to find the right words.

“Lily you have so many great qualities—” James says, eventually.

“Amazing, really—” Sirius adds. 

“I’ve seen you do things with a cauldron people could only dream of doing—” James continues.

“Most mortal men can only begin to fathom—”

“But when it comes to your cooking . . .”

“It’s absolutely dreadful.” Sirius says, shaking his head slowly.

Lily’s jaw drops, and James’ eyes grow wide behind his glasses. “Er . . . I was going to say that it wouldn’t be playing to your strengths.”

Sirius either ignored or didn’t catch James’ attempt at diplomacy. “I’ve never seen such a disparity between potion-making and cooking. Fascinating, really.”

“Are you quite finished?” Lily asks tightly.

Read the rest at ao3!

Start from the beginning

[kimberly-spirits13]

Right Hand Man (Loyal to the End) Pt. 6

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Synopsis: You were like Talia’s daughter. The only thing was that you weren’t and instead, you had grown up in the foster care system and at a young age were taken by and personally trained by Talia. Along the way, you meet Damian and the two of you start to work side by side and eventually, after some time become closer and closer. However, when disaster in the league strikes, you face balancing an old, forgotten life as a normal child and the burden of right hand to the demon heir.

Note: I know that this is long and that there are a good number of time skips, but I didn’t want to make this into a series and just wanted it as a long fic because .... well because I can lol

Also, I didn’t want to have Damian so young in this so just go with it. I’m thinking maybe early 15 or almost 16 at the most. Idk I just don’t like writing for young Dami.

Warnings: trauma induced habits (it’s really not anything serious), unhealthy sleep habits but I'm pretty sure everyone here has those

Word Count: 1897

Masterlist for Series

It was three days later since you had mistakenly slammed Dick into the mats. You and Damian hadn’t talked about it at all seeing as you were trying to avoid the topic like the plague. Darkness had settled over the manor. Bruce and the rest were just back from their patrols and you were just getting ready for yours. It was unofficial at least. Today would have been your turn for the 2:30 am shift of patrol at the league. You couldn’t sleep at all with the thought of your responsibilities running through your mind. 20 minutes had passed of you battling yourself on the aspect of going out. It would be unnecessary, Mr. Wayne has the best security money could buy or make. You thought it through over and over again. What if an alarm didn’t trip off when an intruder came in? What if the manor was attacked and nothing happened to prevent it. With these thoughts overpowering the logic you tried to introduce, you got up and changed into your suit.

        Exiting from your window, you went on top of the manor. The roof was pretty massive seeing as this was a mansion. You looked up seeing the stars and thinking back to what it looked like at the compound. The biggest difference here was seeing the lights from the city in the distance and pine trees instead of endless mountains. You jumped from different points, quietly landing on others. As you did this, you scanned the area and moved on if you didn’t see anything strange.

In the Manor:

        “It looks like she’s patrolling the area.” Bruce said sitting back in his chair in front of the computers that were installed in the cave, “I don’t like it.”

        “Master Bruce, Miss. Y/N is merely practicing habit. Leave the child be.” Alfred said as he cleaned up his first aid tools from tonight’s patrol.

        “She could be plotting something. Getting intel, either way, she’s triggering my alarms.” Bruce responded.

        “Master Bruce! Enough of that.” Alfred raised his voice in disapproval, “This isn’t a normal household as you might have gathered. Everyone here deals with trauma differently. As a child when you picked up strange habits after ... your own set of traumas, I did nothing to stop you of such actions. I knew you’d grow out of it.”

        “I guess you’re right.” Bruce muttered.

        “Nothing new Master Bruce.” Alfred remarked walking into the other part of the cave.

        Bruce eventually left, turning the system off. He knew Alfred was right and even though he wanted to, he knew that there was no ill intent in your actions.

_______________________________________________________________________

        Back outside, you were still well underway in your patrol. You had only thirty minutes left and then you would be able to return to your bedroom. Everything was silent but for the crickets and occasional fire fly here and there. You marveled at their beauty once you figured out what they were. That was strange to see for the first time. Other than that, the only other sound was a new pair of footsteps coming from behind. You knew who it was without turning around.      

        “I thought I would find you here.” Damian said.

        “Well, I guess you thought right then Damian.” You replied perched on the side of the manor.

        “I assume this patrol is stemming from previous habits of yours?”

        “One might say that.” You gave him a side glance seeing that he was coming to sit by you, “Old habit.”

        “Closer to, a sign that you really aren’t taking this move well and are actually covering it up for the sake of reputation and your own personal expectations you have set for yourself.” Damian commented making you roll your eyes some.

        “Wow, caught red handed.” “In all actuality, you’re correct on many levels.” “I just needed something ... normal for a change.”

        “I understand.” He said shortly, “I heard father talking about a gala. Something to parade us around to the rich snobs and media as an introduction. I do not look forward to it.”

        “That sounds like one of the worst ideas I have heard in quite a long time.” You huffed, “And that’s saying quite a lot.”

        He chuckled but after that, everything fell back into silence. You carefully looked out over the grounds before being startled by the vibration and alarm of your phone.

        “Looks like my patrol has ended.” You said turning off the alarm, “I shall return inside. Care to join me?”

        “I will.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        From there, sleep was impossible to come by. You were plagued by nightmares which you never had before. It was probably since you weren’t constantly focusing on training or a mission you had convinced yourself. What you needed was something to focus on and that was what you got. You didn’t rely on coffee like Drake since you never had it to begin with at the league. For the first few days, no one noticed anything. That was what you had planned, however it was of course Damian who raised the first alarm. You were in the library catching up on some studies for ancient history and astronomy. The sunlight was streaming in golden beams through the windows and you were sitting at one of the tables wrapped up in one of the long jackets that you had gotten. Damian walked in to see you hunched over one of the books with your hair in a messy bun.

        “Y/N?” He asked quietly as to not scare you.

        “Mhmm?” You hummed in response giving him a quick glance of acknowledgement, flipping the page to a star map.

        “With all due respect, you seem tired as of late. When was the last time you slept?” He questioned sitting next to you examining the pile of books you had pulled.

        “Last night?”

        “But did you actually sleep an entire night last night? That is the real question.”

        “Why are you concerned on the hours of sleep I got Wayne?” You asked in return.

        He didn’t answer. The truth was that he was worried more than he’d care to admit. He knew that you had terrible dreams like he did, neither of you cared to talk about them at all. The memories of mornings where you’d come for training with dark circles and eyes flooded his conscious. Those days you were scarier and had less patience, though he’d never blame you for it since he understood the feeling for some part.

        “You never answered my question.” You said pulling him from his thoughts.

        “I-I... no reason, I was just making sure my right hand was in stable mind.”

        “Well, I am fine.” You glared at him for the comment, “I’m perfectly stable demon.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        That was a few days ago. You kept the exhaustion hidden well, especially considering you were in a house full of detectives. That didn’t mean you didn’t feel it though. You were bone tired and almost lagged along. Focus became harder to maintain and you felt yourself drifting on and off into sleep. Now you were in the training room running a simulation. It was an easier one you had to admit, but nothing enough to give anything away. Your moves weren’t sloppy, just not as pristine as typical. You also didn’t notice Damian walk inside of the cave to watch you. Rubbing your temple as you finished, you grabbed your water bottle and splashed some of the cold liquid on your face to wake you up. You turned around and were startled by Damian.

        “My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said reaching to grab your arms to keep you from hitting him from habit.

        “It’s fine.” You replied, “I just didn’t realize you were there.”

        “You never drop your guard like that. I think it’s time for you to sleep L/N.” He said, “I know you haven’t been getting any.”

        “I insist that I am fine.” You went to grab your duffle bag off of the floor with the intention of showering in the cave showers near the back. Standing up was the issue. With the worst light headed feeling you’d had in years you fell back down.

        “Y/N!” Damian grabbed you before you had totally hit the floor, “That makes it final, I’m making you sleep.”

        You mumbled an argument before totally passing out. There was no way of avoiding the obvious of you being passed out as he took you to your room.

        “Damian, what happened to Y/N?” Bruce asked alarmed standing up to see you completely out. Bruce wasn’t fazed by much, however, he wasn’t ready for that at all.

        “Lack of sleep.” Damian said shortly, “I think I know why.”

        Alfred followed him up the stairs explaining that he’d need to make sure you were okay other than not sleeping. He was sure that after a good night’s rest or so, you’d be fine. Damian knew though, that that was asking a lot from you no matter how simple it might be.

_______________________________________________________________________

        You awoke suddenly in your bedroom only to be surrounded by darkness and the light, delicate streams of moonlight shining dimly across the objects inside. You felt someone taking hold of your hand and immediately looked to see that it was Damian. Next to you, he was sitting in a chair with his head resting on the side of the bed and his hand around yours. With the shift in motion that you had caused, Damian awoke.

        “What are you doing?” You asked, a blush creeping across your face.

        “Oh- I,” He let go of your hand and rubbed the back of his neck, “I knew you needed to sleep and I also knew that you wouldn’t unless there was someone with you.” “I just didn’t think you’d want me to be in the be-“

        “I-I understand.” You replied, “Thank you.”

        “I will leave now.” He got up.

        “Damian I ... you were right about the sleeping bit. I actually wouldn’t mind if you stayed.”

        “I see.” He sat back down in the chair.

        “Damian, I’ve known you since we were three, you can sleep in the bed.” “If you’d prefer, there’s an extra quilt you could use in the closet.”

        “Are you sure?” He asked standing back up.

        “Positive.”

        Damian retrieved the quilt from your closet and returned quietly, getting on the bed. You stayed under the original bedding and he slept on top of it. There was a distance that was kept between you two since it would be strange for you to be any closer. You were just close friends and nothing more. Although, that thought made you a bit upset. When you did finally awaken however, you were startled to see that you were tangled in the covers laying as close as possible to him. Damian’s arms were draped over you holding you tightly and neither of you cared to talk about it.

        That did however start a routine of going into each other’s rooms for sleeping. You didn’t classify it as a romantic or intimate thing. It was saved for whenever either of you had dreams terrible enough that you didn’t want to be alone anymore. At night, you might have been awakened by Damian coming into your room and getting into the bed only for you to keep close to him or it would be the other way around.

Tags-

@idkmanicantenglish​ @queengeorgiaaa​ @lucy-roo​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @random-fandom-girl-24​

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Being Human - Chapter 16

<= Chapter 15

Summary : Snatcher learns something that is definitely not a good thing. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/68121814

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Sorry for the late posting ! I have a bit of a writer block, and I tried toi delay my chapters as much as possible until I couldn't anymore (the 17th chapter isn't finished so it'll force me to write it eventually), sorry about that ! I hope you're still interested in this story despite my lack of recent activity.

I hope you'll like this chapter !

Of course, the “Oh The Humanity” AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings​​ !

Happy reading !

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Chapter 16 - “So, what are you doing here?”

Out of all the people who could have come out of this hallway, Moonjumper was perhaps the less surprising one to Snatcher. Obviously, the fear of seeing Her had engulfed him since the moment the alarm went off, but now, he felt a huge wave of relief hitting him. The man knew very well this was absolutely stupid for him to think She would be able to come onto the ship uninvited… But still.

His posture relaxed once he realized he wasn’t in danger. This was maybe the first time he was truly happy to see Moonjumper, but compared to Vanessa, this wasn’t really difficult. However… Why was he here? Did something happen with Her…?

The living corpse’s face lit up as his eyes fell on Snatcher and the bow-wearing kid next to him. He had his hands clasped together, his face shifting from worry to relief as he saw them:

-“Oh hello! There you are!” he greeted the two, floating a bit closer, while the bow-wearing child approached him too, her smile wide. Her annoyed expression had been quickly replaced by a happy one, an excited one even, as if she hadn’t seen the guy for weeks when, in fact, it had only been two days.

-“Moonjumper!” she greeted him back, stopping just in front of him, her posture clear of how glad she was to see him. The feeling seemed to be mutual as he gave her a warm smile, just as happy to see her. The other’s eyes soon drifted higher to meet Snatcher’s, and the corpse’s warm expression fell a bit. Well, this wasn’t quite surprising, considering how sour their relationship was. In all honesty, who wouldn’t be put off by seeing their dead, rotten body floating right before them, stolen by an unknown spirit? Not a lot of people.

-“Good morning,” said Snatcher simply, the gears in his mind turning more and more. Was this a simple visit of courtesy or… Was there more to it? The former ghost couldn’t help but think of the worst-case scenario. But could this be possible…? It had only been a few days!

Yet, Vanessa was unpredictable and much cleverer than what she let people think. She wasn’t just a Queen that had gone crazy with jealousy and control… No, no… She was far more intelligent and cruel that one would think. And Snatcher knew that from experience. Furthermore, the man couldn’t help but think of Moonjumper’s worried face as the latter had entered the room… He had a bad feeling, he hated that, but that feeling was definitely there, eating him little by little.

Something had happened.

His thoughts were soon cut short as Moonjumper started to talk again, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence that had followed Snatcher’s greeting:

“I- uh, seem to have triggered some sort of alarm…?” wondered the ghost with confusion and nervousness: “Is… Is this normal?”

The former spirit couldn’t blame the other, that loud thing had surprised him too quite a lot. Just the same, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was something that happened on a regular basis or not. Given how annoyed the little girl had been instead of surprised or startled like he had been, he supposed the former was most likely.

-“Yeah, I was wondering about that too,” added Snatcher with a perplexed frown, tilting his head slightly.

The little girl winced as she glanced away, probably remembering quite a lot of situations revolving about said alarm. When she did start to explain, her features showed some hints of irritation.

-“Well… It’s something that Hat and I built in the spaceship in case of… Incidents.”

-“‘Incidents’?” repeated Snatcher, even more confused and, perhaps, a bit nervous now. What did she mean by that…? Apparently, Moonjumper’s face showed the same signs of worry he was expressing, if not more. Both of their stances were now tensed, waiting anxiously for the child to continue her explanation. At their insistence, she seemed a little uncomfortable, as if she didn’t know how to explain something to them in a way that wouldn’t worry them even more.

Well, this was not a success.

-“Hum… I mean, Space is a dangerous place, you know?” she tried to clarify: “And there are many, many life forms out there, not all being super nice so… It’s better to be prepared, right? Just in case. So Hat and I decided to install that alarm, but…” She paused, looking elsewhere as she kept going, more annoyed: “So far, it has only been a bother, and we never had any problems. But… You never know, right?”

Okay, so if Snatcher was nervous before, now he was just scared. What kind of horrific creatures would cause the need for such a system? Space was not his forte, never had been actually, but now the idea of stargazing through the window just made him terribly ill at ease. Who knew what he’d happen to see in this endless black void…?

Yeah no, he didn’t want to think about that.

As the bow-wearing kid looked back at them, she seemed to notice their change of behaviour and expression and raised her hands quickly:

-“B-but it’s fine!” she soon added with a forced smile: “It doesn’t happen really ofte-”

-“It has happened before?!” interrupted Moonjumper, with a panicked and horrified look in his eyes. Well, then again, Snatcher couldn’t blame him. The simple thought of an unknown creature possibly infiltrating the ship… It made him shiver. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about with Vanessa!

-“No! I mean, yes, but-!” the child was starting to grow a little frustrated and she eventually covered her face with both of her hands, rubbing it as she was maybe thinking of a way to calm the two. Eventually, she sighed and tried to smile again, though it didn’t reassure Snatcher very much: “Your solar system is safe,” she informed them calmly: “You don’t need to be afraid, for real. I mean, otherwise your planet would have probably been invaded by some giant eldritch horrors by now, or-”

The little girl closed her lips shut and tight as she realized she was only making things worse. Giant eldritch horrors? Normally, that wouldn’t scare Snatcher, but being in his fragile and weak human body made him reconsider a lot of things, and this was one of them. With so many risks of dying and not even being sure to come back as a ghost afterwards, he just couldn’t allow himself to be reckless... Especially with the time limit looming over them, this sword of Damocles looming over their head. He had to be there if Vanessa happened to do something, whether it was as a powerful spirit… Or as a weak and pathetic human being.

He needed to be there.

Right in front of them, the bow-wearing kid was fidgeting uncomfortably, a wince clearly visible on her face as a heavy and awkward silence settled in the room. Well, now it was much too late to try to reassure any of them, especially Moonjumper, whose face said enough about the whole ordeal. Quite soon, the little girl found herself unable to do anything else than to flee the conversation:

-“Uuuh, you know what, I’ll, uh…” she stuttered, gesturing to the engine room: “I’ll tell Hat you’re here, so, hm… Have fun you two!” And, without waiting for them to protest or even reply, the bow-wearing child dashed to the door and disappeared into the hallway, leaving two very confused and nervous spirits on their own.

-“What. The heck,” let out Snatcher, frowning even more, his eyes fixed on the now closed door.

-“I, uh… I’m starting to fear for these children’s safety,” murmured Moonjumper, just as shocked as him.

-“You don’t say,” answered the former ghost flatly. That wasn’t really surprising, considering all the kind of trouble the kids were used to put themselves into. Plus, Subcon was kind of a death trap in itself, and yet the little girls kept visiting no matter how many time they had almost got killed. However, if there was anything to be worried about, this wasn’t the kids’ safety (Ha!) but his.

Eventually, the former spirit turned back to Moonjumper, his mind realizing the golden opportunity he had for being alone with the living corpse. Without the kids being around them, Snatcher could ask about the state of Subcon Forest without having Moonjumper worrying about upsetting the children.

-“So, what are you doing here?” he asked, straight to the point. There was no use in delaying the inevitable and if there was something he had to know about… Well, it was better now than later. With Vanessa able to freeze his entire kingdom again, it was better to be careful.

Just like he had expected, Moonjumper was taken aback by his straightforward attitude, making him fidget just like the bow-wearing kid earlier. This sight was more than enough to tell Snatcher that, yes, there was indeed something bothering Moonjumper, and most likely something linked to their biggest problem at the moment: Vanessa. And yet, the corpse glanced away, biting his lips as if he was trying to find a way to tell him what was happening without upsetting him too much.

But the silence on its own was more than enough to make him upset.

-“Okay,” Snatcher pinched his nose, feeling a weight settling in his stomach. Gods, what was he going to learn… His legs were starting to shake a bit and the man felt like his muscles freezing from the tension and apprehension. If he had to know something, it was now or never: “What’s happening? I know you’re not here just to say ‘hi’, especially since it’s only been a couple of days. So what’s wrong?”

Snatcher didn’t have the strength to play the questioner type too long. Dealing with this body was already quite a lot on his mind, so if he had to get more worries over his unfortunately weak shoulders…

-“It’s…” Moonjumper started, looking much more worried than when he had first appeared in the room. Had he been trying to hide it as long as there was a kid in the room? “It’s your fires. They’re starting to die down already.”

Snatcher frowned again, more and more confused.

-“My… Fires? What do you-” but then, he closed his mouth. His fires. The ones he had lit up to protect Subcon Forest from his ex’s magic, the ones that were the only thing heating up the area enough to keep it warm and safe from Vanessa. The only barrier against this unnatural and terrifying cold that had killed so many people… Including him.

Those fires were dying down.

The former ghost’s face paled up as soon as this thought materialized in his mind, hitting him violently as he was forced to understand what it meant. What it all meant for him, for his forest… And for his minions. If those fires ever went out, then there wouldn’t be anything to protect Subcon from the terrible cold and ice coming from the manor, but this wasn’t the worst, no, oh no.

Vanessa would feel that there were no resistance against her magic anymore. This couldn’t happen, this just couldn’t happen, ever.

-“Snatcher...! Snatcher!” Moonjumper tried to call him back to reality, but Snatcher was too lost in his own horrifying thoughts. How could this already be happening? Those fires shouldn’t die down so soon! Sure, he had predicted this would happen, considering they originated from his powers and, thus, depended on them to remain active and warm. Now that the man was in a human body with none of his magical abilities left, he didn’t have any power source to maintain them. It didn’t take him long to put two and two together: this would be what would make Vanessa understand that the Forest wasn’t as well protected as before. However, he had expected this to happen much, much later. Not now. They hadn’t found anything to reverse the situation yet…!

Oh Gods. He was hyperventilating again. His body was now trembling like a leaf and he only realized he was hugging himself. A loud, very loud ringing noise was echoing in his brain, making him unable to distinguish any other sound. What? Why…?

Why was he so scared…?

He was forced out of his thoughts as he felt two hands on his shoulders, shaking him back and forth to bring him back to the present. He heard his name being called, though it was muffled by that deafening ringing noise. What would he do if Vanessa came before they found any solution? How was he going to protect his kingdom in this weak, stupid and pathetic meat sack of a body? The Queen wouldn’t give them any chance to fight back, especially if she was free to use his powers at their full potential in the Forest…

What was she going to do if she saw him like that again…? That thought alone made his stomach turn strongly, giving him the urge to throw up. No, no, no, no, he couldn’t go through that again, he couldn’t, she wouldn’t let him die this time, she would do her best to keep him alive, locked up for him to never, never escape again-

The pressure on his shoulders disappeared eventually… Only to reappear somewhere else, on his cheeks, forcing him to look up. There, he could see Moonjumper’s panicked face.

-“Snatcher!” the latter yelled, forcing him out of his trance. It was only then that the former spirit managed to glance around him, pulling himself together little by little. He was still in the ship. He was still safe.

His eyes went back on Moonjumper’s, the other letting go of his face now that he was able to think coherently again. As soon as he was free again, Snatcher stepped away: his breath was quick and heavy, his heart was pounding inside of his chest, his eyes were stinging… He reached out to rub his eyes, but as soon as his fingers touched them… He could feel them wet.

Did he really… Did he really start to cry…? In front of Moonjumper out of all people?! This could only be a joke. As fast as he could, he tried to dry them up, not wanting anyone to see him in that state, and especially not the spirit who had stolen his past life. No, absolutely not, not happening in a million years!

-“I’m… I’m sorry,” apologized Moonjumper, his expression no more afraid but guilty instead. His eyes were fixed on him, staring at him with what Snatcher identified as pity, as compassion. Gods, he would always hate being looked at this way. This made him feel even more pitiful than he already was in a state like this. But the other started to talk again, catching his attention again: “I should have been more tactful…”

But this apology wasn’t changing anything. It wasn’t changing the current situation, it wouldn’t keep Vanessa away. Those were just words. And words would never, never save them from a crazy Ice Queen starved for a twisted and inhuman love.

-“How much…” Snatcher could feel a lump in his throat, almost preventing him from talking. He still managed to get the words out, though his voice sounded much too broken for his liking: “How much have they died down?” he decided to ask. Maybe he had been panicking over nothing, perhaps the situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed! After all, he had always been quite powerful, it would make sense that his powers would persist even after him becoming human again!

… Right?

His eyes were staring at Moonjumper, awaiting the other’s answer with an unbearable impatience. He was hoping to see some kind of reassurance, something to make him feel better, anything other than the worst-case scenario he had started to picture since the very beginning of this problem. But the corpse wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t wearing the face of someone intending to comfort him, no…

Moonjumper seemed as terrified as he was himself.

-“Almost… Almost halfway,” answered the corpse with a paler face than the one he already had, his hands trembling as he fidgeted in the air.

As soon as the words came to Snatcher ears, he felt like he had just received a bucket of freezing water over his shoulders. Halfway…? No, no, this couldn’t be, this was too soon, way too soon! The man had thought it would take at least a week for that to happen! How could this be?!

-“No,” he breathed out, stepping away once more. He couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it! Those fires were their only hope of keeping Vanessa away and oblivious of the situation! And those same fires were dying down?! “No, no, no, that’s not true,” he kept going, his voice becoming more and more distressed as he was glancing everywhere randomly: “You’re wrong, it’s not possible, they’re not-”

-“They are,” insisted Moonjumper with a troubled voice, not giving him the time to finish: “I thought just like you at first, I… I didn’t want to believe it either… But they’re already getting weaker. I… I checked, multiple times.”

This wasn’t good, this really wasn’t good… Snatcher felt like the world around him was collapsing around him. Their barrier against that crazy monster was weakening, it was weakening and they wouldn’t be able to fight her like this. But the worst question was yet to come, the most terrible and the most terrifying one that Snatcher wanted to avoid thinking about at all cost. But he didn’t have the choice anymore.

-“Do you…” The words got stuck in his throat, his breath becoming heavier and heavier as he struggled to talk again, fighting against the dread that was settling over him: “Do you think she noticed anything yet?”

If Vanessa had noticed anything… Then that would only announce a terrible danger. It wouldn’t take her long to understand that the Forest was soon unprotected… And that she would have the perfect opportunity to strike.

-“I don’t… I don’t know,” answered Moonjumper trustfully as he glanced elsewhere, visibly just as scared as he was: “I haven’t felt anything different coming from the manor yet, so I would guess not, but-”

However, the corpse was cut short in his reply by a high pitched voice that was very, very familiar to the two spirits.

-“What are you two talking about?”

The duo turned in the direction of the voice… Only to find the two little girls, standing up in front of the door leading to the engine room, a confused and worried expression painted on their faces. Both were glancing at them repeatedly, looking for an answer to their question, any answer. But the fear on their faces were already more than a good indicator of what was happening. Soon, their own faces crumpled as they started to understand.

No matter what they had to do to reverse this whole situation… Then they’d have to speed up the process, as much as possible.

Snatcher would not let Vanessa freeze the entire forest again.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hehehehehe another cliffhanger, woohooo- Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter ! See you in the next one !

=> Chapter 17

[jjba-hell]

Revoked

Still late for day 2 but I am enjoying the hell out of these prompts. (Today’s prompt was sci-fi)

Trigger warnings for the death of the ice cream gays but lemme know if I missed anything else.

Summary: a weird mismatched team of busted up aliens and half-blood humans just dealing with some shit.

For the lovely: @lasquadraweek2021

“You should really just transfer to a new body Pros. Humans aren’t supposed to live this long, babe.”

You grumble probably more to yourself than to the man whose forearm you were tinkering in. Well... maybe tinkering wasn’t the word either. He needed another repair and honestly you can’t help but feel like Risotto only offered you the air-mattress in the ship because so many of these psychos have bio-tech they can’t afford to upkeep.

“Sure, I can’t afford a rewire but I can surely afford getting my brain transplanted in a new body.”

“Human bodies are so easy to grow though.” You peer up at him over your magnify glasses with a wriggle of eyebrows. “Fully grown in a quarter rotation? Come on I still have to wait another half rotation to buy a swimsuit let alone grow a body.”

Prosciutto flexed the hand you were working on to spite you but all you did was strap the wrist down and switch off the impulse circuit before getting up and walking toward the exit of the ship where the others were sprawled out in the soft baby blue grass of the planet you were hiding out at.

Melone’s gaze shot from laptop up as you kicked your untied boots from your feet and slid into the grass, barely hearing him as he asked “Any luck with Pros’s arm?”

“I can’t keep mending the same two wires that keep popping off. Its best we find a place that can handle Babyface’s software and get a new one.”

“Still not budging for just replacing the whole thing?” Formaggio asked from somewhere across the clearing.

Like he was one to talk- Akils like him grew back heads and limbs, there wasn’t exactly a need to know anything about biotech.

“Nope. Are all humans this stubborn?”

“I think its the half Megnu in him.” Illuso was the one to chirp in this time.

“That’s still not confirmed.” You sat back on your feet to try and spot your teammates.

“Well he won’t let me analyze.” Melone sighed- continuing to worry away at the clear glass screen that held all his designs.

Melone truly was a bit of a madman to you- he designed the entirety of his body on that simple glass tablet and yet couldn’t finish his face in time before the feds were on him for unethical medical practice- ironic considering he was only putting himself through the strain of fitting his brain into a piece of machinery. What his official titles were in his old field were beyond you.

“Pesci’s not all Scud and he’s not half as stubborn.” You commented and with a soft hum the team fell back into silence.

“Where’s Ris?”

“He’s in bed- that last jump took a toll on him.” Illuso finally rose up from the grass himself heading a bit further away from the clearing, probably wandering after Ghiacchio who was asked to take a lap after he froze off Formaggio’s finger.

You clambered up a few steps to find your captain with the old-fashioned two-way radio in his hand as he lay passed out on couch of the shared living room.

Risotto would rather be caught dead than caught like this so, with intent, you stepped up to take the radio out of his hand. He seemed to gently wake at your fingers prying the piece or equipment from his hand.

“Shit.” He grumbled. “How long-?”

“Ghiacchio’s not even back from his lap- don’t worry. Just head off before they catch you.”

And with a slight groan he rolled up and disappeared down the hallways to his bunk which sounded with an ungraceful “clunk” as he fell into the bed.

Your name got hollered with the slightest tone of desperation from Prosciutto and with that you were back doing your part in the team behind the scene.

“You’re a purebred?” Prosciutto had eventually asked after a few minutes of boredom at watching you weld wires back to the motherboard.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “What am I? A dog?”

He seemed to swallow his words.

“Where do you think I’m from?” You tried to smooth it over.

“Caestea- at least your appearance would have you look like that.”

Another laugh. “I’m from Earth, Pros.”

His eyes widened. “Impossible.”

“Oh yeah. My parents weren’t exactly refugees but they are most certainly not human. Fuck knows what my genetic makeup looks like but thankfully I certainly age like a Caestean. You are all human, huh?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Not that there are many of us left.”

In a sense you felt bad for him. You’d seen photos of Earth long before it started to mimic its brother planet Mars but you rarely thought of how wickedly the planet must have lost its life before intergalactic intervention. Humans were strangely scared and selfish creatures but no one deserved to die because there was no clean water to drink.

You shook off the macabre though before closing up Pros’s arm and putting away the tools. “That should do for now but we really do need to think of a replacement in the near future.”

“Thanks.”

It was a half-assed thank you but it surely caught your attention. Pros was a little too prideful to give just anyone a thanks but nonetheless you returned the sentiment. “No problem.”

Outside the boys were fighting again- or rather Ghiacchio was arguing as Formaggio was pushing his buttons while Pesci grilled a rather obscenely colorful fish over the fire-in-tin.

“Oh just the person we needed to see.”

Getting clasped with two arms over the neck was bad enough but from Sorbet and Gelato, now that was trouble waiting to start.

“Oh gods, what do I have to offer this time.”

“Don’t be so serious!” Sorbet cooed darkly.

“We were just hoping you could help us out with the next target.” His boyfriend added.

If you could just roll your eyes back far enough.

“Wandering off from our captain’s orders doesn’t sound like something I’d want to get myself involved in.”

“Not even for a bionic manufacturer?”

“Or a healing bay, for the ship? Surely you could install those things no problem.”

Honestly it was hard not to fall for the stereotype that all Makzi’s do is play dirty and haggle like merchants but here you were, stuck between them and being tempted into breaking formation with them.

“And what would I have to lose?”

“Nothing much-“

“Maybe some face with Risotto.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “You want me to convince him?”

“Exactly- he might actually consider something if it came out of your pretty mouth.”

“Or rather, if he could come in it.”

You took one step back and bowed out of the hold between the two of them. “Fucking sleezes. Your shit’s gonna get you killed, mark my words.”

“So its a no?”

“Its a fuck no, Sorbet. Vile comments aside, that shit is expensive, even dent-jobs sell for millions... that kind of money is too big a job for us to handle right now and stealing one even more. Get your heads out of your asses before you come up to me with more dumb shit, next time.”

And with that you slipped back beside Illuso as Pesci was grilling up the third fish for the night. Looking back at what you had said was not untrue. That night you were restless in your bunker above Formaggio- Illuso peering behind the sliding divider across the little hallway that ran between the bed bunks.

“Something on your conscience?”

“No.”

“You sure?” You nearly leapt out of skin as Formaggio’s forehead popped up just below your chin outside your divider. “You’ve turned and kicked like 10 times, babe.”

“Please don’t babe me.” You frown at him but you answered the gnawing feeling by asking. “Where are Sorbet and Gelato?”

“Probably in their bed.” Illuso answered as if there wasn’t a more logical answer.

“Wanna put money on it?” Your eyebrow raised.

“And catch them in the act? Daaamn you’re dirtier than I thought.”

“Come on then, 10 drinks at the next stop they’re not in their bunk.”

“Shit, I can’t miss on that opportunity.” Formaggio’s divider slid open all the way to allow him to plop with bare feet to the double bunks at the end of the hallway.” You and Illuso watched in trepidation as he knelt down and knocked. There was no answer save for Risotto’s stern frown behind the top divider making an appearance. “What do you want?”

“Are Sorbet and Gelato in there?” You piped up first.

The angry frown turned into concern as he slid out of his bunk to replace where Formaggio was. He slid the door open to reveal one big empty bed.

What you’d have given to be wrong. But instead the panic bit you all and soon you were messily slipping on boots and running around the ship to find the missing lovers.

Pesci checked the engine compartments he might have accidentally left open, Pros checked the storage while Risotto was seeing if he could track them on the radar. It was only when you were hoisted onto the roof by Formaggio that the dread set into your bones.

“Tell Ris to switch on the overhead console lights.”

You called back down below you. Part of you wished you didn’t... since all it did was put them on display.

It was a vile thing that made Risotto’s eyes grow darker than they already were and once dawn broke, you and Melone quietly put the bodies into the best makeshift body bags you could manage. The lake a few paces away was where you last saw those body bags.

After you left that pit stop you sat in silence in the communal meeting area, your legs flung over one of the armrests in your seat- staring blankly at the coffee table you’d nipped from a market not too long ago.

“So... what’s the plan?”

You asked at anyone who would listen.

“Do we go on as usual? Find their families?”

“Revenge?”

Your head turned to Prosciutto as he was enjoying one last drag of his cigarette.

“You’re brave.” You huffed a bit of laughter at the thought. The big boss and his cronies- the only real reason none of you strayed from Risotto’s orders was way up on a station so far up the intergalactic alliance ladder that you’d have a better shot at killing the king of Gnomia B908 and getting away with it.

“Why not?” Illuso was the one to back it. “Surely we could track the sick fucks that did it.”

“You’re thinking too simply.” Risotto grumbled over his fist. “They didn’t get themselves killed by accident. This was deliberate- a display not to challenge the higher ups.”

“Any idea what they were planning?” You sat up, propping your elbows onto your knees.

Risotto kindly pulled up their hidden plans- your name encircled in red a few times. They seemed to have had their eye on a biotech printer and medbay that was once used by the Boss himself.

“What’s the relevance of an old medbay?” Pros posed the question to you- Melone was up front with Formaggio.

“Medbays need to keep track of any irregularities in DNA to avoid any incompatibility issues. Its one of the few things that can’t be wiped because its burned into the drive. They were trying to expose the Boss’s identity.”

“And they were planning on risking us all in the process?”

You pointed at a little arrow shooting off your name once more. “They figured I could remove and replace the hard drive before anyone noticed.”

Your throat felt dry as you realized what that meant. Whoever this person was... if they could follow something as irrelevant as a used medbay to keep their tracks clean... chances are you were all, at best, being watched.

The thought must have been shared as Risotto didn’t breathe a word as he moved to the front of the ship and changed course to an unaffiliated vector you know damn well you’d probably be searched and cleansed for.

To no one’s surprise the pristine white towers blinded and no sooner than two seconds of coming into orbit of one of the bigger planets you were requested to land.

You stood beside you captain as the ship docked and you waited with your hands behind your head to greet the haz-mat team. “You must be pretty serious about this if you’re willing to get sit in their prison.”

He gazed down at you and with a deadpan tone simply said: “You’ve escaped, I’m certain you could do it again.”