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pinkhairedlily · 3 years

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Into the Wonderful Unknown

Chapter 11 of The Spring He Came Back | 11 of 12

Momo: I told him don’t go and his response was to hold my hand. What does that even mean?

Rukia: He thought you were cold, didn’t he?

Momo: How come you know this?

Rukia: I have an idiot too, just so you know. (^,^)

“Why are you still up?” A yawning Hitsugaya appeared behind her. Hinamori hurriedly shut off her phone and turned to him.

“Why aren’t you still sleeping?” she asked. She closed the door to the patio and lightly walked towards Baba’s room. The heaters were still broken when she asked her again this morning. She might have to call utilities to do a home visit soon. Weirdly enough, Baba adamantly refused the home service when Hinamori proposed it to her over dinner.

“You weren’t sleeping yet.” His nonchalant behavior was what was confusing her. Her trauma made it hard for her to read actions and connect these with words. She was often taken advantage of in her ignorance in the past, and she knew deep down that Hitsugaya was not that kind of person. But will it do her any good if she wears her heart on her sleeve again?

He mumbled a soft good night as he pulled the blanket over his head, some of the strands still stood out. “Like a broomstick,” Hinamori noted.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you cold again?”

“Not really.” Why? Will you hold my hand?

“Hmm. That’s unfortunate.” He turned his back on her and soon fell into a deep sleep.

The following morning, Hinamori inspected her room again while Hitsugaya helped Baba prepare breakfast and bento lunches. She tried to find the heater but to no avail. Baba might have placed it in the storage in the backyard? Following her hunch, she went to the small detachment at the back of the main house. True enough, she found the heaters from their rooms.

“Okay, let’s do quick repairs before I go to work.” She rolled her sleeves and started to look at each nook and crevice of the device. They were both in pristine conditions. Baba, like all their friends and all her acquaintances, was doing wingman duties. She mulled her next decision for the next few minutes – whether she should be angry at her grandmother for forcing her to be literally closer to Hitsugaya or just go along with it.

Ride this one out. Do or die. Wear my heart on my sleeve.

Hitsugaya was setting the table when she returned. “Did you check the heaters? Can they still be repaired?” Baba had an apologetic smile on her face, knowing that Hinamori figured out her scheme.

“Ah, they’re really destroyed. I called the repair shop too but unfortunately, they’re backed up for at least a week.” She really lied through her teeth, and Baba chuckled at the progress. Grunting to herself, Hinamori just occupied herself with a bowl of miso soup and hoped Hitsugaya won’t check them himself.

“Ah well, you and Baba will have to put up with me for the remaining days.”

Hinamori heard another thing entirely. He still intended to leave, and she only has two nights left to convince him to stay.

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Hinamori visited the café after she closed shop. She was quite fulfilled with herself today – her antidote spray worked on the peonies and gerbera, she found a supplier for dried flowers, the impulsive arrangement she made this morning sold well, and she didn’t think of Hitsugaya the whole day. Well, not until she realized he didn’t come visit her at all today. He also wasn’t in the café, talking with Yuki. So where was he?

“Here’s your brew, Momo.” Yuki handed her drink to her. He might have noticed her curious expression because he asked next, “Are you looking for Dr. Hitsugaya?”

Hinamori shook her head rather strongly that there were neck cracks. “No, not really. He might just be busy today. Not like I minded it.” I apparently minded it enough to wonder.

“Oh, you’re right. He was in a hurry earlier when he ordered an americano to-go. He’s probably tying up loose ends because he’s leaving tomorrow,” Yuki surmised. This information caught Hinamori in surprise. Tomorrow. She thought she had two more nights with him. “That means, it’s his last night in your family house?”

“The town’s rumor mill sure works hard, huh? What are they saying?” There was a slight tremble in her hands.

“Rumors were so bad in his first days. Sleeping in your house instead of a hotel? That was a scandal waiting to happen, and then when people saw that he was still leaving, the rumors died down to you two being sibling-like. Of course, he would sleep in your family house. That was his second home, and you were his second family.” Yuki was looking at her intently, possibly gauging her response. She didn’t know herself – she didn’t know whether she should be offended or saddened. Hitsugaya might have confessed to her when they were teenagers, but ten years have passed. Could it be that this was all she was gonna be to him?

The doors to the café opened, interrupting Yuki and Hinamori’s conversation. Rukia and Renji were holding hands but remained unflustered when they saw their friend.

“Nice timing. I was just about to message you,” Rukia said. “We’re holding a farewell dinner for Urahara’s team.”

“It’s only a small crowd. Us and the three professors. Well, four now because Hitsugaya’s one already,” Renji further supplied. Both of them saw apprehension flickered across Hinamori’s face which soon got covered by a smile. They knew her for far too long that they recognized this was her immediate façade.

It was the academy, after all. There was a long history and probably some bad blood. She wasn’t sure if she was entirely welcome. Then again, this was an opportunity to spend more time with Hitsugaya and talk about his decision. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know about it. He clearly told her he’ll only be here for a week. And it wasn’t as if she bottled up her feelings; she told him “don’t go”, didn’t she? She just wanted to know if this was for good, if he won’t come back again, if there was another life waiting for him on the other side, if she was a thing of his past, or if he just came here for closure. “I’ll freshen up first. Where do I meet you?” Ride this one out. Do or die. Wear my heart on my sleeve.

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Hinamori couldn’t remember the last time she went to a party. Rangiku forced her to join a mixer last year, but no one really interested her. She was far too engrossed in mapping out the business in her head while everyone in their table exchanged information. Then Hitsugaya came, and she was reduced to a blushing mess.

She let her shoulder-length hair down, finally making her strands experience the curling iron. Rangiku’s impromptu and overly enthusiastic make-up sessions proved to be useful despite her and Rukia rarely using cosmetics. She also took out from her closet the olive green blazer and short coordinates which she bought when her revenues finally went beyond breakeven. A comfortable pair of loafers completed the look. Just what was she thinking this would convince him to stay?

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“Working girl, Hinamori,” Rukia quipped. This earned her a glaring look from Hinamori. “Are you changing tactics? Is this ~seduction~?” she jokingly whispered. This time, it was Renji who elbowed her.

“I’m pretty sure Hitsugaya will get a neck strain from staring too much at you.” Renji’s assurance served to fuel the fire stronger. Her two friends were so amused.

“Don’t get the wrong idea! I’m not trying to seduce him!” Hinamori fumed. There were still a few minutes to spare; she could go home and change into her more normal clothes.

“Hinamori! You look good!” Rangiku’s voice rang through the alley. She wore a strawberry midi dress in blocked heels, and her long curls were made up in a loose bun. It wasn’t hard to see the source of her flushed happiness as she was walking with a silver-haired guy who they presumed to be Ichimaru Gin.

Thank God Rangiku dressed up, Hinamori thought. However, she was still wary with how she looked. She immediately turned on her heels to make her way back to the house despite the rising protests from the 3Rs, but she hit someone soon enough. She got a sudden cramp in her foot and almost fell on her back but strong arms steadied her shoulders.

“Momo, are you okay?” It was Hitsugaya. Just her luck.

“Hello, Hinamori.” The professors beside him greeted in unison. Unohana, Byakuya, and Urahara waved hello, dispelling any negative scenarios Hinamori made up in her mind. Suddenly conscious of Hitsugaya’s arms on her shoulders, she moved away from him and bowed to the other professors in greeting.

“Barbecue, barbecue, barbecue,” Urahara led the small group into the restaurant. Hinamori failed to see Hitsugaya’s reaction as she quickly moved towards the safety of her friends’ exchanges and out of his sphere. So much for wearing her heart on her sleeve.

It was so typical of the academy regulars to reserve the whole restaurant for a small dinner. A long table was laid out in the center of the room, and lots of meat were ordered. Bottles of wine and beer were also prepared.

Maybe drinks will give me courage. Dejected, she sat beside Rukia and Renji and across the lovey-dovey Rangiku and Gin. While the former couple was subtle in their affections (because Byakuya was in the room), the latter was nonstop flirting. Never in her life has Hinamori felt so single. At the other end of the table was Hitsugaya and his mentors, debating over something else. Unohana, now the head of the academic board, claimed the seat beside her.

The dinner started out smoothly, and Hinamori enjoyed grilling meat for everyone, particularly for Unohana who apparently wanted a certain cooked appearance. She also got to relax for a bit since Ichimaru Gin took the hot seat.

“It’s your time to eat, Hinamori,” Unohana gently stopped her arm from cooking another batch of pork belly and urged her to sit down.

Taking a bite of a grilled asparagus, Hinamori’s eyes strayed to Hitsugaya’s seat at the other end of the table. He was downing a bottle of beer which he almost choked on when Urahara said something funny. She quickly peeled her gaze away when he noticed her staring. Her seatmate chuckled at the silent exchange.

“It’s a wonderful thing. I’m sure you knew the things Hitsugaya did for you,” she said. The professor placed a few strips of bulgogi beef on the grill. “He really hunted down all the affiliates of Aizen in five years, presented all evidence in the international teaching board and revoked Aizen’s and his accomplices’ teaching licenses. They also got blacklisted in the research field. The items you mailed to the academy – they were also part of that repository.”

The things Hitsugaya did for you.

He really looks out for you.

Even from afar, he was protecting her. “It took me quite long though.” There was a tinge of regret in her voice which Unohana picked up.

“At least you arrived where you wanted to be.” The professor took a sip of her tea. “Although, isn’t it time for you to go back and study in the academy?”

Hinamori’s eyes lit up at the possibility. Yes, she was contented with self-studying, but a focused curriculum would greatly improve her skills. “Wouldn’t there be a conflict of interest based on my past record?”

“I believe that record was already expunged. You didn’t have any knowledge of his operations, after all.” Unohana took from the grill the burnt strips of bulgogi beef. She smiled at Hinamori and ate them in one mouthful. “The academy isn’t the academy you knew before. There are no more Soul members and no networking involved. Just regular admissions and equal access to resources.”

Hinamori sighed. She briefly forgot about her business. “I’m not sure if I can. I have a flower shop.”

“And we have night classes for working students, parents, breadwinners, you name it. The academy tries its best to accommodate everyone and be flexible if need be. We also heard what you were doing in the flower farms. It’s a talent difficult to miss, Hinamori.”

“Am I not too old to pursue a bachelor’s degree?”

“Is there an age limit in the pursuit of knowledge?”

“Five already,” Gin said aloud. Rangiku laughed when Unohana and Hinamori finally steered their attention to them.

“I’m telling you it’s six.” Renji almost slammed his beer mug on the table. He might love drinking, but his tolerance was so high. Rukia, though, was another matter.

“What are they counting?” Hinamori asked Rangiku who was rather tipsy at this point.

“The number of times he looked at you.” Rangiku pushed six shot glasses to Hinamori. “Drink them all, baby.”

I didn’t even notice. Again, a blushing mess when it came to him.

“You just wasted your night cooking for us. You need a break.” Gin supported his girlfriend. “Drink your share, Hinamori.”

Slightly affected by the new opportunities coming her way and the enthusiasm of her friends, she downed three shot glasses in full. She cupped her fourth when her eyes strayed to where he was seated. She was supposed to make use of this time to talk to him, but he seemed intent to put some distance between them. In that moment, his eyes flitted to where she was. If it was possible to swallow the shot glass, she would have.

“This is so entertaining,” Unohana quipped.

“I don’t have any patience for this stealing-glances-game,” the intoxicated Rukia said. “You, Momo, are to confess tonight!”

“Ooooh I heard confession!” Urahara yelled from across the table. He stood enthusiastically and went over to Hitsugaya’s side. “I’ve got a story to tell!”

“Shut up, Kisuke.” Byakuya tried to pull him away from his mentee.

“What story?” Hitsugaya asked. He also finished his bottle in one long drink. Finally remembering what story it was, he reddened in embarrassment. “Urahara no!”

“That time when someone confessed to you in the middle of an open forum!” Urahara let them in on the secret. “The girl started with, Dr. Hitsugaya, your presentation was very nice and it answered big knowledge gaps in the field of Physics. Now I was wondering if you would fill in the gap in my life. It was so hilarious. The auditorium broke out in cheers.”

Laughter erupted around the table and more so when Hitsugaya just continued pouring himself a drink.

“We had to screen attendees at that point onwards because she might ask the same question again.” Byakuya also found the memory funny. “You maintained contact with her, right?”

“What is it to you?” Hitsugaya pouted in his defense. The laughter shifted into yells and whistles. This light atmosphere turned quite heavy for Hinamori.

So there really was someone else.

His phone rang amid the cheers, and he excused himself from the table. Hinamori’s heart sank further. The decision was made; she should just go home. “I need some air.”

When Hinamori was out of earshot, the people around the table sighed collectively.

“I can’t believe I’ll say this, but we have two idiots in company,” Unohana said, breaking the silence.

“After Rukia and Renji, of course,” Byakuya added, teasing the two lovebirds at the other end.

“Let’s hope those idiots realize it soonest huh?” Urahara went back to his seat and opened a new bottle of wine.

“It’s literally your fault.” Byakuya and Unohana were both clearly exasperated.

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“I should say goodbye,” Hinamori muttered to herself. She saw Hitsugaya walked to the alley beside the restaurant. She tried to follow him, but a group of local drunks blocked her way. She sidestepped, but they also matched her move. She was feeling a little light on her feet. It was a bad call to finish the shot glasses Rangiku gave her.

“Hey cutie, where are you going?”

“Are you striding towards my pants? I mean, my heart?”

“Hey fuck off, I saw her first. Finders keepers.” Someone’s hand grabbed her wrist, pain shooting throughout her body.

Fingers wrapped around that someone’s arm, the grip was so tight one could see veins popping on his hand. “Don’t fucking touch her.” Silver hair in her periphery. An air of intimidation. Eyes like icy daggers. The strong arms holding her steady. “Stop hitting on my girlfriend.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have let her out of your sight? Fuck off dude.”

Hinamori was trembling more because of anger and less because of fear. Alcohol was truly a source of courage. “Why don’t you fuck off yourself?” She kicked the one in front in the balls, and elbowed the one grabbing her wrist. It happened so fast that Hitsugaya forgot he was holding someone hostage.

The local drunks scurried away, leaving the two unharmed. Hitsugaya pulled Hinamori gently into the abandoned alley, usually reserved for dumpster area, the dark acting as refuge for their recent encounter. She was still trembling, her hands cold and sweaty. Hitsugaya hesitated to come close within her personal space. A few minutes passed and she reached out for his hand, her pinky barely holding on to his other pinky.

“I’m sorry I lied,” Hitsugaya asked. “I drank so much I’m not sure I could fight them all off. So I thought the boyfriend card would be enough.” He hovered his fingers above hers in a quiet question of consent. She closed the space within their hands, their fingers finally intertwining, the cold dissipating in the warmth of his skin. “You were so badass there.”

“Thank you,” Hinamori chuckled. “But I guess you shouldn’t be holding hands with me when you have a girlfriend abroad.” But her fingers stayed where they were.

“What girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend, Momo.” HItsugaya protested. He faced her this time, the closeness of him backing Hinamori against the wall. “Urahara was spouting nonsense earlier. I rejected her. I don’t have any form of contact with her.”

“Why are you so adamant in proving it?”

“Then why did you rile me up with it?”

Hinamori couldn’t answer. Maybe she should have drunk two more shots.

“Are you okay?” Hitsugaya was clearly worried. He was red on the face, but Hinamori didn’t know if it was because of the drinks or because it was cold outside.

“Why should it be a pretense?” she asked, letting go of his hand. She turned her gaze away from his striking eyes.

“What? Momo, look at me.” He cupped her face, securing any form of escape. “Are you drunk? Because I’m kinda tipsy too. Byakuya made me finish one bottle of wine and some bottles of beer. I think my stomach is riding a pirate ship. So what pretense?”

“I like you.” Her stomach was a pirate ship suspended at the highest point, a roller coaster stuck upside down, and a basket at the peak of a ferris wheel.

“I know what you mean. You said it before already.” Her words were not getting through to him.

“I like you, Shirou. I meant it back then when I said I liked you too.”

“Of course, you like me as a friend.”

“How can I prove it to you, you broomstick idiot?” She felt like crying. What was running through his mind? How can she get her feelings across in actions if words were not enough?

Ah, there was one thing she could do, and she had the advantage. Ride this one out. Do or die. Wear my heart on my sleeve.

Hinamori’s hands strayed to his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. Her stomach lurched into a journey, the wide deep swing that came after the high, and then an expanse of space. This was probably why they associated butterflies with it. It seemed as if she was fluttering herself, her heels flying on to space, and the only thing grounding her was his hands on her face and his soft lips on hers.

Thank you, courage. She pulled back, content with her declaration, no matter the result.

“You look so beautiful tonight, Momo.” Hitsugaya spoke as if someone took his breath away momentarily, but his hands were still cupping her face. “Didn’t know you were so fashion-forward.”

“I’m glad you think so. It’s my alternate persona.” She joked back. She gathered what was remaining of her courage and truly looked at him.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. You can be angry at me tomorrow.” He pulled her face closer and kissed her again, full on the mouth, a little longer, and a little deeper. Over and over again, they would pull each other in with small rests for breathing, like how the world was rushing to bloom again in spring.

NEXT CHAPTER | 12 OF 12 | ENDLESS SEASONS WITH YOU

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flowerslut · 4 years

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BONUS DAY: Quarantine Rated: T for language. Words: 9,064

A/N: My favorite prompt, “suddenly human” was somehow NOT chosen for Jalice week. So I took some liberties here by combining a shitload of prompts together. Brace yourselves.

WHUMPTOBER CROSSOVER—No. 13: OXYGEN MASK & No. 21: INFECTION

Alice and Jasper face immortality together.

I’LL JUST LAY HERE WITH YOU

Twenty-nine days ago they were celebrating.

Birthdays weren’t something they acknowledged often. After Bella had been with them for a decade, their newest vampire had firmly put her foot down. She’d barely tolerated them as a human, but as an immortal being she’d loathed the parties.

Thankfully, there was still Renesmee and her milestones to keep track of. Of course, she hadn’t changed much since her eighth birthday, but apparently even human-vampire hybrids weren’t immune to the desire for a Sweet Sixteen.

Jasper had never seen Alice so elated to have someone so willing to plan a celebration with her. And she and Rosalie had once spent three years planning one of Rose and Emmett’s more elaborate weddings.

It started with a vision.

Turning the knob on the stove, Jasper cut the heat, ignoring the way his throat burned at the aroma that was wafting through the kitchen. It had been embarrassing, having to listen to Carlisle and Bella give him step by step instructions on how to light the gas stove over the phone, but if Alice had witnessed him struggle in a passing vision, she neglected to mention it to him.

He checked his phone then, knowing that no messages awaited him, but still hoping for a notification nonetheless. Someone would be dropping off more supplies today, and he needed to know where exactly to go in order to receive them.

He couldn’t risk interacting with any of his family directly. Not until they figured out what was going on.

It started with a vision.

Jasper reached forward, grabbing the canister from the boiling water, and began to wipe it dry. He knew it was warm enough due to smell alone. He hadn’t once used the food thermometer they’d stuck in their last delivery. While Alice’s condition had worsened, it hadn’t gotten so bad that she’d be at risk of being burnt.

He eyed a bag on the kitchen table, and at the assortment of crazy straws poking against the plastic, and rolled his eyes as he exited the room. Leave it to Emmett to try to find something to joke about with the situation.

He’d been pissed at the bonus items during that particular delivery—surely Edward and Rosalie hadn’t known Emmett was sneaking some extras into the package—but it had made Alice crack a real, genuine smile.

And those were so hard to come by now.

It started with a vision.

Twenty nine days ago they’d been celebrating Renesmee’s birthday. That included balloons and streamers and cake and human food and humans and an assortment of emotion that, by the party’s conclusion, had given Jasper whiplash. The headache he had that day didn’t ebb until late that night. Alice had been too preoccupied with clean-up to notice.

And Jasper had been too preoccupied with his headache to notice when Alice’s emotions caused the climate of the house to take a nosedive.

Walking through room after room Jasper eventually reached the stairs and began to slowly climb, focusing hard on the low buzz of the equipment running upstairs. With every step his misery intensified until he was struggling to keep the emotion at bay. Whether it was a good thing or not, Alice was too out of it most days to be able to tell.

Still, he didn’t want to slip up and accidentally physically share his current emotions with her.

“Jazz?” He heard her voice call when he was halfway up the stairs. And when her panic struck him he cleared the rest of the staircase in an instant.

“I’m right here,” he spoke, the canister already resting on the nightstand as he reached out for her, hyperaware of all the wires as he maneuvered her into an embrace. “Just wanted to get you something to drink.” Pulling back he focused intently on her face. Her eyes hadn’t been golden in days, despite the regular meals he supplied her with. Instead, her eyes were slowly darkening, a brown amber color taking over.

Her sigh of relief sounded more like a rasp, and when her face scrunched up in pain, Jasper felt his entire being ache. Reaching forward he readjusted the oxygen tube on her face, resting his hand firmly against her cheek as he watched her squeeze her eyes tight and focus on taking a few long, even breaths.

She felt just slightly warmer than she had the day before. The temporal thermometer that lay within the nightstand was suddenly at the forefront of his mind. Another one of the tools Carlisle had armed him with in their first supply drop off. Jasper had refused to grab the device until someone (Rosalie) explicitly and unkindly asked him what her temperature was that day.

He didn’t want to think about how she was warming every day.

“Let’s sit you up,” Jasper spoke quietly as he moved, pulling her fragile body into a sitting position against the headboard, tucking the blankets snuggly around her as she blinked herself into awareness.

“How long was I out?” She rasped again, wincing as she shifted. Lifting a hand she scratched at her ear. The hair had grown infinitesimally over the past several weeks, but it was one of Alice’s biggest complaints. After living a hundred years with her hair the exact same, the instant it began to grow she’d panicked.

And Jasper had added another thing to the list of symptoms she was experiencing.

“Only a couple of hours,” he moved back toward the night stand, retrieving the canister. “This is the last of it,” he commented as she accepted the stainless steel canister with her bare hands. Barely a second later she was wincing, the container falling to the blankets that were lying across her lap.

Jasper had grabbed it and returned it to the table in an instant. “Alice!”

“I’m fine,” Alice hissed, holding her shaking hands to her chest “It’s not hot, I swear. Seriously,” then, she showed him her palms. They didn’t appear to look any different than usual, but still, Jasper was mortified. Maybe he should’ve been using the culinary thermometer after all… “Jasper. It’s fine,” she assured him between hurried breaths. “I’m not burnt or anything. It just really hurts to grip things today.”

“I’m sorry,” he still apologized quietly, knowing how much she hated hearing the words from him. “I didn’t know.”

“Another symptom for Carlisle,” she half-smiled, and Jasper felt his heart clench at the sight. Those smiles never reached her eyes.

Twenty-nine days ago Alice had been putting stringed lights back into storage containers when the first vision struck. Jasper had been distracted, up in his study, re-reading one of his many comfort books to try and curb the pain in his skull.

Jasper never felt Alice’s initial shock. What he felt was Edward’s powerful fear, and acute mortification.

By the time Jasper was in the living room, Alice was screaming.

Picking the canister back up, Jasper moved to sit back on the bed besides Alice. But when she saw what he was about to do she lifted up a hand, placing it against his arm. “Jazz, no. It’s fine. Give me a few minutes and I can do it myself.”

“I can help,” he insisted, his words quiet as he prepared to hold his breath and twist the canister open.

The human blood was a new addition to her diet. One that Carlisle had suggested after her body had rejected animal blood for the second time. She’d been wholly unable to hunt since the beginning, but she’d still been able to drink from whatever animal Jasper could grab that day.

When her teeth began to, quite literally, lose their edge, their family had been forced to improvise. Jasper didn’t know how they’d attained the initial bags of animal blood, but he was thankful for their efforts. He’d ruined the carpet in the den attempting to exsanguinate a deer, and had only salvaged less than a pint for her. After that, Carlisle had figured something out.

The first time she’d been sick—the animal blood violently expelling itself from her tiny body from the way it came, and ruining the couch in his study—was the first night she slept. Jasper called Carlisle, hysterical and screaming, thinking that whatever was happening had finally killed her.

She’d woken up less than ten minutes later, disoriented but alive. That had been two weeks ago, and Jasper hadn’t left her side for more than ten minutes since, even for a supply pickup.

“You said it’s the last of it,” Alice spoke, her frown deepening when Jasper fully screwed the lid off the bottle, “does that mean it’s a supply day?”

He nodded as he pressed the edge of the container to her mouth and tipped it back, trying hard to look away as she gulped down the blood. His thirst had been killing him the past few days, but he knew that he’d rather starve than deprive Alice of even one drop of sustenance.

“Her body is trying to replenish itself,” Carlisle theorized to him just the day before over the phone, “try and pay attention to what blood type she favors. It might become useful information.”

Her eyes hadn’t changed to red the way he’d expected them to—the way he’d hoped—but instead, every day, they darkened slightly, more orange-ish brown than anything.

It was an almost-human color.

Twenty-nine days ago they’d been celebrating. And then Jasper was in the living room and Alice was shrieking, demanding that everyone get out and that no one come near her and that they get out now and leave.

“Alice,” Jasper had flickered to her side, terrified at the emotions coming from her. But she’d pushed him away so hard he put a dent in the wall, the wood and plaster crumbling beneath his back.

“No!” She’d sobbed, “Stay away! Edward! Get them out! Explain later! Go, now!”

But even Edward, who knew what she was thinking and who had seen what she’d seen, couldn’t bring his feet to move. “Alice, hold on a second.”

Jasper felt Alice’s emotions blank and then come back full-force; it was the tell-tale sign of another vision stealing her attention. And when Edward’s terror trumped Alice’s, Jasper found himself staring helplessly at the redhead.

“Go,” the boy turned toward the family and barked the orders, “everyone get out, now.”

“What is it?” Jasper demanded, his frustration mounting. He trusted Alice with his life, but he’d never felt a heartbreaking fear like this from her before. “What’s going on?”

“Jasper,” Edward yelled as Esme and Bella—who had come to see what the commotion was about—ran off with Renesmee. Emmett and Carlisle were on a hunt and wouldn’t be back for a few hours. “I’ll explain later, we have to go.”

But when Jasper tried to approach Alice again—he’d leave as long as she was by his side—she screamed at him, backing away like a frightened animal.

“NO! Don’t come near me!”

“Jasper! Stop! Let’s go!”

“I’m not leaving until someone tells me what’s going on!” His heart broke as Alice looked at him with fear in her eyes. But as an empath, he knew she wasn’t afraid of him as much as she was afraid at what she’d seen.

“Jazz, please, please, please don’t come near me,” Alice begged as he slowly approached anyways. And the closer he got to Alice the farther Edward inched toward the back doors, his terror permeating the room.

“Alice, please…”

“You have to go before it’s too late.”

“Jasper, stand back!”

“I’m not leaving you,” Jasper spoke directly to Alice, barely an arms-length away now. “Whatever is going on, I’m not leaving you here.” Whether the Volturi were coming for her, or whether some freak natural disaster was set to swallow their neighborhood whole, he didn’t care. He’d rather die than leave Alice to face whatever it was that she and Edward were so terrified of currently.

“I can’t let you,” she shook her head firmly, her expression full of devastation as she backed up against the far wall. “Jasper, please, I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Sick?”

And when thick, silver liquid began to stream down Alice’s face, venom pooling in her eyes, Jasper’s entire world shifted.

By the time Jasper reached forward, wiping the venom from her face and confirming that yes, this was real, and no, this was not good, Edward had vanished, running after their family into the dead of night.

“No,” Alice sobbed, shaking her head as Jasper gathered her up in his arms, “No, not you, too. I don’t want you to die, too.”

“Please hunt today,” Alice spoke after Jasper recapped the now-empty canister. “Please. When you go to get the next shipment. I can’t stand to see you like this.” Reaching out she rested her hand against his cheek, her thumb brushing the bruise-like shadows beneath his eyes as she gazed at him with love and concern.

Jasper shook his head. “Carlisle is sending some more animal blood with the next one, that way I don’t have to leave the house.”

“That’s not going to be enough to sustain you,” Alice frowned, pulling her hand back into her lap. Jasper didn’t miss the way she was lightly massaging her palm. Even the slight affections she showed him pained her now.

“I’ll make it work.”

“How are you supposed to take care of me if you can’t take care of yourself?” The words were gentle, but they struck Jasper like a physical blow.

“I’ll take care of you no matter what.”

Alice sighed, and then there was a pause. “I can’t see them.”

He stared at her blankly, waiting for her too elaborate. “Who?”

“Anyone. I can’t see Carlisle or Esme. Or Bella or,” her voice cracked, “or anyone. I’m even struggling to see you now.”

Jasper nodded calmly, not wanting any of his reactions to worry her further. He would have a moment to himself soon enough. “And your dreams?”

“They’re getting a little less fuzzy. But Jazz,” and her fear in that moment was very real, “if I can’t pull visions up the way I used to, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

And truthfully, he didn’t know what they were going to do either.

They didn’t know what was eating away at Alice or what sickness she was afflicted with. They don’t know what caused it or how it had struck her. The only thing they knew—and only because of Alice’s first few visions—was that there was a chance it was contagious, and it would very likely kill her.

He’d kissed her through her tears after the third day, when she finally confessed that she very likely had sentenced him to death just with her proximity alone.

But Jasper would walk through the fires of hell day in and day out if it meant he wouldn’t be leaving Alice to face this sickness alone. Whether he lived or died he didn’t care. And if Alice did die… well… he could only hope it was as contagious as they feared…

Leaning forward he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Alice tilted her head up, lifting a hand to hold his face still so she could plant her own kiss firmly on his lips.

“I love you,” he spoke softly against her lips before kissing her again, “and even if the visions go, you’ll still have me.”

“I’m scared,” she whispered, and when Jasper focused back on her expression, he realized her eyes were closed tight again. Setting the empty canister on the bed-side table, Jasper was careful as he climbed into the bed to lie alongside her. He didn’t want to unplug a single wire.

The electrocardiogram wasn’t registering anything—as it shouldn’t; Alice’s heart had been still for a century now—but Carlisle wanted her hooked up to the device regardless.

“Just in case,” the other man had said over the phone as Jasper had sorted through that delivery. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but if she continues to display more symptoms like this, she may be human before the new year.”

Jasper pushed the memory from his mind as he pulled Alice close, allowing her to snuggle closely, still wrapped tightly in layers of blankets. Even with the thermostat on 80, Alice shivered day in and out.

The wetness that dampened the collar of his shirt made his heart ache.

They remained like that, lying next to one another as Alice’s oxygen concentrator hummed. Jasper hated how he just knew she was warmer. Not as warm as humans were, but even through the layers separating them he could feel the warmth of her body.

She wasn’t indestructible anymore, and Jasper didn’t know how to handle that. Even with her body pressed tight against his, he worried. What if one day he kissed her and hurt her? Or if he squeezed her hand to comfort her and broke her fingers?

He could finally feel some measure of empathy for Edward while he’d been dating Bella all those years ago. The fear of hurting her was prominent in his every move.

Her cardiovascular system was still in limbo, and even as her body warmed and her cheeks slowly filled with color after every meal, her heart was still not beating. Against all odds though, her lungs were operating normally. No longer could Alice simply sit, not thinking about how her lungs didn’t require oxygen unless she needed to speak.

The day that symptom presented itself, she’d gasped for hours, uncomfortable and panicking. Jasper had been on the phone with Carlisle, desperate for guidance, and in hours they’d delivered the necessary equipment.

Hooking up the machine and wrapping the oxygen tube around his wife’s delicate face had made Jasper feel insane. As if this wasn’t real, and he was hallucinating this.

It had felt like the beginning of the end.

Eventually, he pressed a kiss to her head and left the room with the promise to return quickly.

He answered his buzzing phone as he flitted down the stairs.

“I’m on my way.” He spoke without looking to see who it was.

“Carlisle wants you to bring the empty oxygen canisters.”

It was Edward. Jasper shook his head at the request. “I have no way of cleaning them. And even if I do sanitize them I don’t want to risk it.”

Whatever it was that was warming Alice and that he potentially carried, Jasper didn’t want it transferring to any of his family.

“Just bring them. We can leave them to sit for a couple of weeks and then one of us will bring them back.” Edward commented.

Jasper sighed, already half-way out the front door, before turning back to the kitchen. “I don’t have time for this,” he growled impatiently into the phone. The tanks were unnecessary now that Alice was on a concentrator. Jasper thought it was a stupid risk but he’d been low on patience for days now and wasn’t about to argue now.

Grabbing a single empty tank he turned back and was out the door in an instant.

“Where are you?” Jasper spoke into the receiver.

“At the end of the driveway.”

Jasper paused at that, his feet grinding to a halt in the grass. He was suddenly reminded of the last time he’d met up one of them at the end of the driveway, two and a half weeks prior. “You better be alone.” It was dangerous enough for him to interact with any of his family members even at a distance, but whenever they showed up in groups it ignited his anger.

As far as Carlisle was aware, everyone else was either asymptomatic or simply wasn’t sick like Alice. But Jasper wasn’t about to be the one that passed… this on to their family.

“I am,” Edward snapped back, as if Jasper’s words, and not just his ability, could inspire a quick jump to irritation. “I couldn’t exactly carry everything in this shipment. Forgive me for bringing a car.”

Jasper hung up the phone then and made off quickly toward the end of their long driveway. It was a quick run, but Jasper was looking forward to getting this exchange over with. Edward was already wasting precious seconds by requesting an old oxygen tank. He wasn’t about to waste anymore time arguing with the younger vampire.

He saw the car before he saw Edward. It was a deep green color with a matte finish. Jasper could tell just by looking at it that this must’ve been the pet project Rosalie had taken up after they’d left for their Baltimore house back further east.

“She needs anything to focus on that’s not this,” Emmett’s words, like always, lacked proper tact, but while Jasper had glared at his brother over the FaceTime call, Alice had nodded understandably.

A car like this would surely stick out like a sore thumb in Martinsburg.

When the car door opened, Edward’s voice rang out. “She’s already moved on to another one. This one is going in storage after this drop off.”

Jasper didn’t nod, but he did watch carefully as his brother began to quietly empty the contents of the trunk of the car onto the pavement. A few large crates, and some smaller paper bags. When Jasper inhaled deeply, he furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Food?”

Edward closed the trunk and turned back toward Jasper, his expression grim. “Carlisle thinks it might help.”

“Help how?” It didn’t even matter that Jasper didn’t know the first damn thing about making and preparing human food. And it was irrelevant that oftentimes just the smell of human food left Jasper in a foul mood. What mattered was that having to feed his wife human food felt like another insane task he’d been given, and he didn’t know how the fuck he was supposed to just nod and go along with it all.

“I’m sure you can guess.” Even though they were standing quite far apart—at least ten meters—Jasper could clearly see the frustrated furrow of Edward’s brow. Jasper knew he hadn’t been the most pleasant person to interact with over the past month—it was one of the reasons Rosalie elected to tinker in her garage instead of sit on calls or volunteer for supply drop-offs, and it was why Esme had done one, and only one.

But Jasper wasn’t looking to snap at anyone today. He simply wanted to get what he needed (although today’s delivery would take a couple of trips) and go back home to his ailing wife.

“Are her visions still wavering?”

Jasper forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat. Looking away from Edward, he instead stared at the grocery bags piled beside the crates. “They’re nearly gone. She can only see me while awake, and others when she sleeps.”

Edward nodded, and Jasper hated how he knew the boy was digging through his thoughts, collecting images of Alice’s deteriorating, weakening body, and hearing the very real doubts Jasper had currently. Jasper gestured to the tank he was holding. “What do you want me to do with this? I’m not giving it to you.”

“Just toss it over there,” he gestured vaguely to a patch of bushes beside the driveway. “I or Emmett or whoever will pick it up in a couple of weeks.”

Jasper tossed the heavy item to the side without a second glance, his eyes still trained on the supplies. “Is there…?”

“Human and animal blood, yes.” Edward tapped the crate in the front with a foot.

Jasper nodded, swallowing the venom that pooled in his mouth, knowing that he’d be able to drink soon. When surprise and curiosity pulsated off of the boy, Jasper finally met his eyes. “What?”

“You seem fine.” Edward observed with half of a shrug. “I mean, physically. There’s a chance this actually isn’t contagious—”

“Stop,” Now. Jasper would turn and go straight back to the house without another word if Edward kept it up. With his fury just hiding beneath the surface, Jasper thought pointedly. Alice knew her visions would fail. Alice knew you guys would want to come help. But as long as we have those few, early visions of hers we need to be careful. I can handle things over here. When Carlisle finishes analyzing her venom and finds actual fucking answers, let me know. Until they, stay put. I’m fine, and I’m handling things. “Don’t you dare put yourselves in danger. Not until we figure this out.”

The two stared at each other for a few long seconds before Jasper felt himself start to get antsy. He’d only been away from the house for barely more than five minutes, but the more time passed the more afraid he was that Alice would fall asleep and wake again, scared and disoriented, with him nowhere in sight.

“I’ll go,” Edward finally nodded toward the house as he walked back toward the driver’s side and opened the door. “Please text Carlisle her temperature when you get back. And yesterday’s summary, too. Please, Jasper. We’re doing our best.”

And with that, he climbed into the car, started the quiet engine, and pulled off. Jasper waited until the car pulled around a bend in the distance, a thick patch of trees obscuring the vehicle from sight before he ran forward and grabbed the first crate, and in seconds he was rushing back toward the house.

He was still several hundred meters from the house when the sound of hacking reached his ears. Jasper nearly dropped the crate to the ground as he rushed through the front door and flickered up the stairs and into Alice’s bedroom, only to find her crumbled in a heap on the floor, wheezing and coughing.

“Hey, hey,” he swept her up into his arms quickly, wondering why on Earth she’d decided to pluck all the electrodes off and find herself a spot on the floor, far from her oxygen. But before he could ask what she was doing, he felt the dampness that covered her thin flannel pajamas and his heart broke.

Her gasping came from her attempts at crying without her oxygen tube. Jasper maneuvered her back onto the bed—being aware to avoid the wet spot in the center of the bedding—and placed the tube around her head, shushing her.

Two hours, one bath, and a change of bedding later, Alice was fast asleep in the bed, her hand limply clinging to Jasper’s as he typed a long text with one hand.

Things are worse, he began the text. I don’t know what to do.

It started with a vision.

On day thirty-two, Alice ate her first human meal she could ever recall. It wasn’t much; a thin soup that he’d unpacked and warmed from the last shipment. She sipped it slowly, getting some of it down her front. It was hard, she admitted quietly to Jasper, to use a spoon when all she had ever known was biting down on flesh and sucking down blood with force.

She’d managed to eat a single cracker before breaking down in tears, broken up over the very fact that it didn’t taste entirely repulsive to her anymore.

On day thirty-four, Jasper picked up another shipment. Emmett was in a somber mood as he dropped the small delivery off. Groceries for Alice, mainly.

“Tell me you have any news at all.”

Jasper raised an eyebrow at that, watching from a distance as his adopted brother shuffled and frowned. Sadness never suited Emmett, who was one of the brightest personalities Jasper had ever known; the guy had radiated positivity ever since the former-solder had known him.

“I don’t.”

Emmett shrugged at that, and Jasper hated how the taller man’s mood dampened further at those words. “Well, they always say no news is good news.”

Jasper met his sad golden gaze with a severe one of his own. “If I had good news we wouldn’t be doing this, Emmett.”

On day thirty-five, while Jasper read aloud to her, Alice accidentally scratched herself. Much like her hair, her nails were also beginning to grow at a snail’s pace. Along with that, they were more brittle than she was used to. While reaching over and adjusting the zipper to Jasper’s jacket she’d broken a nail, chipping the edge slightly. Then, she’d reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her head, scratching the now-delicate skin on her face.

It didn’t bleed, but Jasper could still smell the blood, resting idly beneath the surface.

On day thirty-seven they finally sat down and acknowledged what was happening. Jasper refused to say the word ‘human’ but Alice spoke it with a sad resignation, knowing that her body was somehow de-petrifying. “I don’t know if I’ll survive,” she whispered to him as he held her closely, tracing soothing shapes against her back. “In some visions it all ends here, in this bed. In others I can see myself all warm and pink, but the visions don’t go much farther than that, no matter what I do.

“I’m almost positive that I die, Jazz.” She whispered into the silent room. It remained silent for a while after that conversation, until Alice quietly informed Jasper that she needed to use the restroom, and he carried her out of the room, his mind still miles away.

On day forty-one, Alice’s temperature spiked. She slept seventeen hours that day, shivering for most of it, and crying out occasionally, with visions now only plaguing her in her sleep. Jasper held the thermometer against her head and when it registered 96.1 he threw the device, smashing it to pieces against the far wall of the bedroom. Alice didn’t budge.

On day forty-two, Alice woke up, her memory foggy. “Mom?” She called out, sitting up disoriented before Jasper could plant himself in her line of sight. When she flinched at the sight of him, gasping loudly, her shock smacked Jasper across the face. It took several long seconds for her to calm herself, recognition registering to Jasper before it showed on her face. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, hand against her chest as she struggled to regulate her breathing. “I’m sorry Jasper.”

On day forty-three Alice kissed him, harder than she’d kissed him in over a month. It was when her hands found the first button on his shirt that he stopped her, her name only a warning on his lips.

“Please,” she whispered as she kissed her way down his neck, her hands finding a different button as she pressed herself against him, “Jasper, please. I don’t know when we’ll ever be able to again.”

On day forty-three Alice and Jasper spent the entire day in bed. They’d pause in their lovemaking periodically for Alice to use the restroom, or eat a meal, or take a nap, and then resume in between. Jasper was used to handling her with care, but now it truly felt like his wife was made of glass. He was as careful as he dared, knowing that the second he hurt her in his passion would be the end of their physical relationship as far as either of them knew it.

It was early in the morning when Alice kissed him firmly and pulled away with a wince. “I think I need to stop,” and something akin to perspiration was beginning to gather on her forehead, her growing hair sticking to it firmly, “I’m… aching.”

And then, that was that.

On day forty-five she woke up with wide-eyes and was immediately unresponsive. Jasper spent several horrifically long minutes talking to her, checking her vitals, gently massaging and tapping her shoulders and limbs, trying to get her to come back to him, to speak, to do anything other than lie there, stare, and breathe.

He was seconds away from giving up and sending another hysterical phone call Carlisle’s way when she blinked twice and lifted her hand up, blindly reaching toward him.

“Alice, Alice, oh thank God,” Jasper pressed her warm hand against his cheek, inhaling slowly in order to collect himself and prevent his ability from affecting her. “It’s okay, it’s…”

But when Alice forced her eyes to look at him—warm, dark brown eyes—Jasper froze as he felt her wipe wetness from his cheeks.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered as he jerked back, his hands wiping the venom from his face with a panic.

For two days, Jasper’s gift was hard to control. Meaning that now, to his complete and utter dismay, Alice was just as miserable as he was.

It wasn’t that he cared about being a vampire. Sure, the power it supplied him with to protect Alice and his family was something he wouldn’t trade for anything, and with Alice slowly reverting back into a human he felt comforted that at the very least he could keep her safe.

But how was he supposed to protect her from all the dangers that were out there when he, too, would be human in time?

Forty-seven days after their family ran and they barricaded themselves in the house, confined to their West Virginia property, Alice broke.

“I wanted you to run,” she sobbed with all her might, yanking wires and throwing anything she could get her hands on across the room. “I wanted you to go with them. I didn’t want you to die, too. It’s my fault this is happening, it’s all my fault.”

She wouldn’t let Jasper anywhere near her that day. Even when she slept, her emotions were a turbulent storm, making it difficult for Jasper to even sit at her bedside while she tossed and turned and shivered.

On day forty-eight Alice spent the day apologizing profusely. For everything and anything under the sun. Jasper simply shook his head, kissed away her tears, and held her close. All while assuring her that she had nothing to apologize for.

It wasn’t her fault they were dying, after all.

On day fifty-eight, Jasper had a sobering phone call with Carlisle and Edward.

“I reached out to Aro,” and Carlisle didn’t even pause in his sentence when Jasper hissed ferociously, “to see if he could provide any help, or any answers.”

“If anyone wants Alice alive as much as we do, it’s Aro, Jasper. Stop,” Edward spoke up loudly. And although the boy couldn’t hear Jasper’s thoughts he had decades of knowledge of his inner-thought process to know precisely where this conversation was heading. “It wasn’t anything we wanted to do, with Alice as weak as she is—”

“She said so herself,” Carlisle chimed in, not giving Jasper time to verbalize a response, “she doesn’t think she’ll make it out of this. And with you sick, too, we aren’t left with many other options.”

“The Volturi have far more resources than we could ever dream of having,” Edward spoke. “If this is something that’s ever been documented before, they’ll be able to find it.”

“But as far as Aro is aware, he’s never heard of anything like this happening before. Especially something that can be contracted by other vampires, too. We’re all in the dark here.”

Jasper refused to update them on his own state that day. It was bad enough that Alice had gone behind his back—quite literally—and texted Carlisle that Jasper’s first symptoms had begun to materialize the other day, but he didn’t want anyone’s attention on him. Alice was the priority. Alice would always be the priority, and Jasper refused to give any information to his family on his own state entirely.

But still, he knew that Alice was very likely texting Esme right now while he listened to Edward and Carlisle prattle on about their research and findings, and about how ultimately, they’d come up with no solutions.

If Alice died, Jasper knew he wouldn’t have to wait for this sickness to kill him in order to join her.

And with this thought it was as if Edward was truly there, in person. “Jasper. Hang in there. We’re going to figure something out,” the boy insisted after a length of silence had fallen across the line. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

On day sixty, she fell asleep and didn’t wake up.

Jasper sat by her bedside and waited. After the first day, he called Carlisle, only for Esme to pick up the phone and ask him what was wrong. The sound of her voice, so caring and full of love, caused him to finally break down. He found himself crying venomous tears for nearly an hour as he listened to her soothing words.

“The best thing you can do is stay with her,” she said eventually. “Talk to her maybe. If its anything like our transformations, she can likely hear you. Tell her you love her, and stay close.”

So that’s what he did. For the entirety of that second day, when he wasn’t on the phone with a member of their family, he sat at her bedside and talked. About her. About their relationship. About how devastated he was that this illness had struck her. He reminisced out loud about their first meeting, his many regrets, and about how even though now human blood had been introduced back into his diet (his body had begun to reject animal blood days ago) it felt completely and utterly ridiculous that it was what had driven him to madness time and time again.

He talked about how much he loved her. About how she was everything to him. The reason for his attempts at interacting with the public, the reason he abstained from human blood in the first place, and the reason he consistently pushed through his thirst. She was the reason he’d stopped hating his appearance, scars still prominent on every inch of his skin. She was the reason he’d given peace a chance, and the reason he now had a family to call his own.

She’d given him everything beyond what he could have ever hoped for in this cursed afterlife of his, and he told her such as she lay there, the only movement coming from her chest slowly and steadily rising and falling. He talked more that day than he’d spoken in a long, long time.

“I suppose all that ‘playing human’ should’ve helped us out better for this, huh?” He spoke out loud into an empty room sometime after midnight on the second day. “You’d think it would’ve prepared us for something crazy like this, instead of sending us to the brink of hopelessness.”

On the third day, Alice’s temperature skyrocketed, registering a fever that Jasper could do nothing to break. He cycled through damp rags, always keeping a cool, fresh one pressed against the burning skin of her forehead, being careful not to bump any of the wires, old and new.

Carlisle had to talk him through the insertion of the IV the night before. Now that her body required human food and water, Carlisle explained that it was vital in keeping her healthy and alive. Still, it had felt alien to poke at her skinny, fragile arm, looking around for a vein that hadn’t pumped blood in over a hundred years.

Eventually he placed it somewhere Carlisle—who’d been video called to assist—approved, but even still, Alice did not budge.

On the third day, Jasper climbed into bed with her and carefully pulled her close to him. His own temperature wasn’t as cool as it once was, but he hoped that even in her unconscious state it would help to soothe her somewhat. He closed his eyes and focused hard on her slow, even breaths, combined with the low buzz of her oxygen concentrator.

And in minutes Jasper was asleep for the first time since the nineteenth century.

He woke up with a start, mind immediately aware of Alice’s prone form beside him as he moved himself up and out of the bed. His entire body was shaking as his mind caught up with what was happening. His entire head felt foggy but despite not having slept in well over a century he knew that something had woken him up.

It started with a vision.

On day sixty-three Alice’s heart began to beat.

It was a slow, steady rhythm. With one hand Jasper quickly dialed Carlisle and with another he reached out, resting his fingers against her wrist as he counted the beats. Feeling a pulse flutter beneath his fingers didn’t help to combat the dizziness Jasper was still fighting, but he knew that he had to pay close attention. Alice’s life—Alice with her beating heart and blood-filled cheeks and her fragile skin and bones—now hung in the balance.

“It’s beating,” he spoke in lieu of a greeting, “her heart. It just started back up. About,” he focused for a few seconds, “seventeen beats per minute. She still isn’t awake, but she… there’s a pulse.”

“Oh my—hold on; Grandpa!” A familiar voice yelled in the background of the call, and Jasper’s dizziness increased as he realized Renesmee had answered Carlisle’s phone. “Mom! Aunt Rosie! Where’s Grandpa! It’s an emergency! Uncle Jasper says—”

“What’s going on?” Rosalie was on the phone immediately, and Jasper had to close his eyes and rest his head against the side of the bed as he focused, forcing himself to concentrate on counting Alice’s heart beats. “Jasper?”

“Her heart is beating, Rose,” he spoke miserably. “Not fast. And she’s not awake.”

“Ness is getting Carlisle now,” Jasper could hear how it felt like suddenly Rosalie was moving around quickly. “What’s her respiratory rate?”

Jasper looked up then, eyeing the silent machines with confusion. Horror fell over him when he realized that not only were they silent, not even registering Alice’s slow pulse, but they were completely shut off. It wasn’t something he’d noticed before he fell asleep. He’d been too preoccupied with fussing over her unconsciousness and babbling on about nothing to notice.

There was no way he’d unplugged anything, on accident or even on purpose. In fact, the last time he’d recalled the bright numbers and words being lit on either of the machines was—

“I hate that beeping,” Alice had commented the day before she’d lost consciousness, “it’s so disturbing. Can’t we set it up to only alarm when things are working, instead of when they’re not?”

In an instant he’d rounded the bed and lifted the chords attached to the machines, finding them unplugged from the wall. In seconds they were plugged back in and Jasper was quickly examining Alice, ensuring that everything was hooked up properly.

At the sound of Rosalie still demanding things through the phone that he’d abandoned on the bed, Jasper reached out and pressed the speaker button. “She unplugged everything. I just—give me a minute.”

And the instant the machines began to register her vitals, the alarms began to blare.

“Her blood pressure isn’t going to register normally, but you have to pay attention to her heart and respiratory rates. If she’s human now you can’t let either of them drop down below what they are now. Do you hear me Jasper? Jasper!”

“I hear you,” he spoke miserably as he watched Alice’s chest rise and fall.

“The instant they begin to dip you say something. Now, whatever you do now you’re not going to get off this phone, you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, feeling the sting of tears begin to pull to the surface, “I won’t.”

Then, there was shuffling in the background and Carlisle was on the line. “I heard the news. Just stay on the line Jasper. Is your thirst manageable?”

“I’m not going to fucking hurt her,” he snapped, his nerves wound up so tightly that he couldn’t even hold the words back before they were being spat. “Forget me, Carlisle, how do I keep her alive?”

“Keep her heart beating, and if anything at all changes, you say something. Now, go over her vitals for me please.”

The next hour felt like the longest period of time Jasper could recall in his entire existence. He swore that the minutes ticked by like hours. He didn’t touch the phone once. It sat just where he left it on the edge of the bed, and sat at Alice’s side, listening and watching her with an unstoppable focus. Of course he registered the sound of his family talking, even if he wasn’t registering their words half of the time. Knowing that they were connected was enough to calm him to the point where he could apply his single-minded concentration fully to Alice.

He would do damn near everything he could to keep her alive, her visions be damned.

At some point he acknowledged that her IV bag had been empty for a few hours, which prompted a nearly-ten minute long argument in which Rosalie was demanding—and Carlisle was pleading—for him to leave Alice for a few seconds and go into the next room and retrieve a new one. Eventually he gave in, but only after Rosalie yelled, “Don’t be fucking stupid, get it so she doesn’t die and throw your tantrum later.”

(No matter how angry it made him, deep down he knew she was right.)

“Alice,” he whispered to her as he reached out and caressed her warm face, “how did this happen?” But the only signs of life from her were the slight rise-and-fall of her chest and the beeping of the electrocardiograph. And that was exactly what they were now: signs of life.

Jasper himself had been ignoring the uncomfortable feeling that was beginning to plague him whenever he went more than a few seconds without taking a breath. After his first symptoms had appeared he had started forcing himself to breathe normally, timing his breaths along with Alice’s without her noticing. Practicing for the day when his respiratory system would start acting like a human’s again.

He couldn’t even waste time thinking about what it meant to be human again. He couldn’t care about his warming body or the fact that he was weakening more and more every day. The only thing that mattered was that Alice made it out of this alive. Everything else was an afterthought. It was all for her.

Jasper didn’t realize his phone had died until Alice’s started ringing. He almost ignored it until he realized it was Carlisle’s number, and when he looked toward his own phone, and the blank, empty screen, he felt foolish as he reached forward and plucked Alice’s phone from her side.

He quickly muttered an apology and an explanation before placing the phone back down on the bed, speaker activated so he could go back to ignoring that device, too. A part of him knew that he should’ve grabbed one of the chargers that was just barely out of arm’s reach, but he didn’t dare move too far from Alice’s side.

He held her hand firmly in his, and waited.

“How is she?” Carlisle asked the question the second that the tempo of one of her monitors changed.

“Twenty beats per minute. Her breathing is…”

There was a beat of silence where Jasper stared from Alice’s prone body to the face of the screens on the machines hooked up to her. Something wasn’t right.

And then Alice’s respiratory rate took a nose-dive, alarms started blaring, and all hell broke loose.

There was a flurry of panic on the other side of the phone while Jasper stood fully, hovering helplessly over Alice’s body. This was it, he knew instantly even without ever seeing the vision himself. This was what Alice had foreseen. Her body, pink and fragile and human, slowly deteriorating in this very bed in this very room.

Alice had been wrong. She hadn’t cursed Jasper to his own fate by transferring whatever illness was de-petrifying their stone bodies. The curse itself lay in the fact that Jasper had been foreseen to watch the deterioration and death of the woman he loved more than anything else in the universe.

She had only ever apologized to him for getting him sick, as if that was something that was her fault. As if that were worse than this.

Rosalie’s voice broke through the yelling on the other side.

“Jasper! Listen to me! Keep her breathing.”

He’d watched and read every piece of instruction material Carlisle and Edward had sent his way, so he knew exactly what to do. But performing rescue breathing and watching it be done were two entirely different things. Having to force air into Alice’s lungs was the most agonizing thing he’d done in months.

Please don’t die, please don’t die, he thought the phrase over and over again as he focused on counting through each breath, being careful to only give her lungs the air they needed and not a bit more. It was after about a minute when he pulled back and actually looked at her, when he began to panic. The color that had been so steadily restored to her face was slowly fading away.

“She’s turning blue,” he shouted at the phone before gently tilting her head back again, plugging her nose, and giving a few more slow breaths, “Carlisle!”

There was chaos across the line and for a moment Jasper was afraid that the call had dropped as silence hung in the air. Then, what sounded like someone picking up a fallen phone. “We’re almost there, just hold on,” Esme’s voice spoke quickly.

That’s when the noises behind her began to make sense. The low pur of a car’s engine, the tell-tale sound of a vehicle speeding down the road. Jasper didn’t know how he’d missed the signs.

“No,” he pleaded desperately when he realized what that meant. “You’ll die.”

“No we won’t, sweetheart.” The smile in her voice nearly brought tears to his eyes. “Focus on Alice. It’ll all be okay.”

But for several long agonizing minutes he forced air into Alice’s weak lungs, and the alarms still blared. And when her already-weak pulse began to drop, he was beginning to think he’d failed. That he wouldn’t be able to do it. That Alice would be dead and it was all because he couldn’t protect her and—

The noise of glass shattering registered with his senses just as he was mid-breath, his mouth placed around Alice’s as he futilely attempted to bring her back. Hands were on his shoulders and when he was pulled away firmly he could only look up and shudder with relief over the sight of Carlisle and Rosalie working over Alice’s tiny, fragile body.

“I’ve got you man,” it was Emmett, “it’s going to be okay now.”

Jasper shook his head as he stumbled. But Emmett’s arms wrapped were around him from behind and he was pulling the blond backward far enough to give Carlisle and Rosalie space.

“You can’t,” Jasper protested weakly, feeling the tears that he’d been keeping at bay finally begin to spill over, “Alice didn’t want you to come.”

Emmett gave him a good shake, still not releasing him. “Well, too damn bad. Come on.”

Jasper didn’t have the strength to fight him as he was dragged from the room. He was sure that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to. Each day he’d grown weaker and weaker as more and more symptoms presented themselves. But when Emmett tried to force him down the stairs Jasper dug his feet into the carpet as hard as he could. (The fact that it didn’t force the wood to buckle beneath his feet was enough evidence of his own illness.)

“I can’t be far, please, Em.”

The sound of tires screeching to a stop outside of the house bought both of their attention toward the foyer, and when Esme burst through the front door, flickering up the stairs before stopping in front of the men, Jasper felt his knees begin to shake.

They’d surely all die now, too. Carlisle and Rosalie, who were hard at work trying to hook Alice up to whatever new device they’d jumped out of the car to sprint to the house. And Emmett and Esme, who were looking at him as if he were the one made of glass, and the one that was seconds away from shattering.

He wasn’t the one who needed putting back together.

“You’ll die,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion as Esme reached up and placed her hands on his face, her own expression absolutely broken at the sight of him. “You’re all going to get sick now, too.”

When Esme smiled up at him, he felt his knees buckle. Thankfully, Emmett’s arms still trapping him like a cage kept him standing. “Alice made her choice in trying to keep us safe. Now, we’re making our choice. We aren’t going to leave you two to suffer alone anymore.”

“Carlisle and Rose are going to do whatever they can, man.” Emmett tightened his grip, perhaps sensing that he was the only thing keeping Jasper from hitting the floor.

A loud noise caused their heads to turn back toward Alice’s room and suddenly, there was calm. The only noises now were from the machines that were beeping calmly. And just under all of it, they could all hear the noise of a heartbeat, steady and strong.

“It’s going to be okay,” Esme whispered again when Jasper’s tears started anew. Slowly, Emmett released his grip, lowering Jasper to the ground where Esme wrapped her arms around him. “She’ll be alright. We’ve got you now. It’s alright.”

And the sound of that steady heartbeat was all Jasper could focus on as he buried his face against Esme’s shoulder and cried.

It started with a vision. And now they were past it, and Alice was still alive.

Eventually they helped him walk back into the bedroom, and when he climbed into bed beside Alice—his warm, pink, human wife—they simply let him.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before grabbing her hand in his and closing his eyes. There would be time to discuss things with his family later, and to acknowledge the weight of what had happened tonight and what had been done. But for now, he laid beside Alice, and Jasper slept.

#jaliceweek20 #Alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight fanfiction #jalice fanfiction #the twilight saga #this is my FAVORITE from this week even if it is what? almost two weeks later??#who cares my parents came to town and now the US it attempting to remove a fascist from office #my priorities have been SCATTERED lads

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kumawrites · 4 years

Note

hi!! idk how requests work but coffeeshop au with oikawa as the flirty barista and you're just trying to find a place to study okay bye 😶😶

iced vanilla bean latte

☆ oikawa tooru x reader ☆

☆ - 1.7k words

☆ - a/n: i based this 100% in a local coffee shop in my area that i frequent except i h8 coffee

☆ - taglist: @miceonmars

“Y/N, Obama was the last president of the United States, not the third.” Kiyoko looked at you with a pitiful gaze in response to your answer.

“Oh.” You blinked once. Twice. A third time for good measure. So your American Politics class was needless to say, not going very well. Honestly, you didn’t even know why you were taking an American politics class when you lived in Japan. Actually, you knew why. Because of your horrible habit of procrastinating literally anything that can be procrastinated, you foolishly waited until the very last day that you could to register for classes. And unsurprisingly, most of them had been completely filled, leaving American Politics to be the only history class that you were able to take. Which would have been just fine, had you not procrastinated studying and even taking notes.

You stared blankly down at your notebook that was barely a quarter full. Instead of taking notes and actually paying attention in class, you either skipped or distracted yourself playing games on your phone. Your professor never notified you since you sat right in the middle of the lecture hall, not drawing much attention at all. Maybe, that wasn’t a good thing, however. You had no connection to your professor at all, and asking for help this late in the game just didn’t feel right, which is extremely irrational but you really didn’t care.

Your problem would really just have been solved if you did care. Too bad you didn’t. However, you’re stuck in a bit of a pickle now, not knowing even the basics of the class, with midterms coming up and a frighteningly fast rate. You were bound to fail, and your parents would not be very happy about that. So, you decided that it was finally time to actually study. Except studying really meant learning all of the material that you had covered for half of the semester in about a week.

Luckily for you, you had great friends who were super smart and actually studious to help! Kiyoko had already taken the class, being a grade ahead of you, and had graciously blessed you with her notebook full of her beautiful notes. It was truly astounding how notes could be so pretty. Yachi, on the other hand, gave your studying tips and ways to actually study well. Without those two, you would have failed the midterm for sure, and most likely the course all together.

You were currently studying with Kiyoko in the library, well trying to at least. Apparently, you knew less than you actually thought.

“Wait, what’s a Conservative? Is that a branch of Congress?” You weren’t doing too hot.

“It’s a political party. They’re a more extreme version of a the Republican Party.” You nodded your head, slowly understanding. Why were politics so complicated?

“Oh, okay. I think I get it. So, Liberals are Democrats but more extreme?”

“That’s right.” Kiyoko nodded her head as you scratched down some of her notes into your own notebook. Kiyoko’s phone pinged and she grabbed it from the table, turning it on. She read the message, sighed, replied, and began packing up her things. “Sorry, Y/N, but my boss just messaged me. I have to go in tonight, Hana got sick.” You nodded and gave Kiyoko a slight smile and a wave as she left. Now it was just you, left to your own devices. You were half tempted to close your books and play Fire Emblem, but that seemed like a poor long term choice.

You kept at it for a surprisingly long amount of time, around an hour, until a rowdy group came in. Even though it was a library, it wasn’t the most quiet of places on campus, and many groups liked to come in to work on group projects. You had no problem with them, until they set down their bags and their bodies at the table right next to yours, still chatting loudly. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t bring your earbuds with you. Since you assumed you would just be studying with Kiyoko the whole time, you didn’t bother to pack them. The one moment in your life when you needed them the most. A tragedy.

You sighed and packed up your things, considering giving up studying for the day, until you realized you were running out of time and were still extremely confused. And tired. You yawned as your left the library, wondering where to go from there. Going back to your dorm would only lead to you playing video games and ignoring everything else, so that was off the list. Every other place you could think of would be far too noisy to actually study. You were in quite the pickle.

You were really close to giving up for the hundredth time until you passed by a coffee shop that you had never seen on campus before. Was that always there? No, it couldn’t have been. It was in the middle of a route you used all of the time to get across campus. But how did you never notice that this was there? The shop had large windows that you could peek through to see a very classy interior. Everything seemed to be made of a walnut coloured wood, excluding the black chairs and stools. There weren’t too many people in the shop, just a small crowd. It looked peaceful. You stood there for a bit before deciding to walk inside. Maybe this is where you could study in peace.

As soon as you opened the door, you were greeted with the smell of fresh roasted coffee beans. You stopped a vacant table and placed your belonging on it and took a seat. The chairs were surprisingly comfortable, even though they seemed to be made of metal. The vibe in the entire shop was very calm. You could get used to this.

You took your notes out and began to study, creating flashcards and making your notes a bit cleaner and more cohesive. This was the kind of productivity that you needed to have on a daily basis. Too bad that this energy was for sure going to leave your body once you finish your midterm. Another yawn left your body, and you turned your head towards the counter. You could buy a coffee. That wasn’t going to break your bank account. Yeah.

You stood up and headed towards the counter, staring at the menu. Everything on the menu sounded fine, but you didn’t know exactly what you wanted.

“Hey! What can I do for you today?” A cheery voice broke you form your thoughts and you brought your eyes back down to look at who was speaking to you. The barista that greeted you had a charming smile on his face, one that you knew just drew people in. He was pretty, for sure, but you didn’t have time to think about pretty boys, too focused on trying to pass your class.

“Hi there. I’ve never been here, so I’m not too sure what to get. What would you recommend?” You have him a polite smile in return, and shifted your gaze back to the menu. There were so many options that you were a bit overwhelmed with choices

“Hmm..” The barista tapped his chin and scrunched his face a bit. “What about the vanilla bean latte? It’s really good iced!” He suggested and you nodded your head.

“Okay, sure. I’ll have that as a 24 ounce, then.” You ordered such a large drink since you assumed that you would be here for a while, having so much material left to study.

“Oh, it’s Y/N.” You replied and he hummed, typing it into the tablet on the counter. Your total came up and you handed him your card, making sure to leave a tip.

“That’s a cute name, just like you!” You stared at him. It was like someone had just stopped a record right in the middle of a song. What? Did you hear that right?

“Sorry, um, what?”

“I just think you’re super cute. We’ll have that vanilla bean right out for ya, Y/N.” He winked and walked over to his coworker who was making your drink. You vaguely remember his coworker scolding him, telling him to ‘stop flirting with the customers shithead’, but you really weren’t listening. Were you just, flirted with? Is that how this works? You for sure were not expecting that to happen.

You returned to your seat and opened up your notes, trying to forget the flirting(?) and focus on your studies. That’s what you came here to do, not flirt with a cute barista that you would for sure go on a date with. But, he was probably just a flirty person, you figured. If his coworker scolded him like that, it was probably a common occurrence, meaning you shouldn’t take it to heart or anything. He was just super cute.

Only a few minutes after you began to actually focus in on your work, you noticed that a large plastic cup full of iced coffee and a plate with a muffin was placed down at your table. Looking up, you saw the cute barista with a beaming smile on his face.

“Here you go, Y/N. Hope you like it.”

“Oh, I didn’t order a muffin.” You tilted your head up at the man who chuckled in response.

“I know. It’s on the house.” And with that, he gave you a tiny wave and disappeared into the back room, leaving you shook. Was this protocol? No, definitely not. Was this protocol for him flirting with every female customer? His boss wouldn’t let him give out that much free food. Was he really, for sure, actually, flirting with you? Was this real? Are you real? Okay, not time for an existential crisis.

You picked up the muffin on the plate, and noticed a small note that was placed under it.. It read, ‘text me!!!! :) xxx-xxx-xxxx - oikawa’. At this point, you were pretty damn sure he was flirting with you. Holy shit. He was flirting with you. Oikawa, you assumed his name was, still hadn’t come out of the storage room, so you couldn’t gauge his reactions or anything. You stared at your phone that you picked up like it was an explosive, ready to detonate. Were you actually going to text him? Was this actually a good idea? You know what, fuck American politics, you had something far more pressing to deal with at the moment.

y/n: hey is this oikawa? this is y/n

oikawa: hey cutie!! ;)

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa x reader #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #request

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monaisme · 3 years

Text

One Week Later - Chapter Three

This is the sequel to my one-shot, “The Battle”

“Well, if I didn’t think the man was an asshat before...” Mr. Stark growled as he disconnected from the call and sat back on the couch next to a freshly wakened Peter. “Seriously! He told me to call when we were ready and now he’s all ‘call Wong—I’m busy.’ He’s the keeper of the freakin’ Time Stone and he can’t bother to find a few minutes between balancing chakras and making avocado paste to follow through on a promise?!”

Peter could sympathize with Mr. Stark’s frustration, but was definitely less vocal about it. He’d hoped he’d get a chance to see Dr. Strange specifically so he could thank the man for at least getting him back to Earth after the whole ‘thing,’ but he guessed he’d have to wait until they got back to New York.

Mr. Stark, it seemed, was just getting started though. “I mean, he just hung up! I don’t even have Wong’s number! How am I supposed to—?”

FRIDAY popped in from the device in his hand, “Boss, may I remind you that I can easily—?”

“Not now, FRI!” He gesticulated wildly, “I want to vent and you’re messing with my flow!”

“Tony, be kind.” Ms. Potts—um, Mrs. Stark chastised her husband from the adjoining bedroom where she was packing up her and Mr. Stark’s belongings. “All the wizards have been playing travel agent while everyone gets sorted and you know this. He can take a break if he wants to. We’ll just call Wong like he asked and be done.”

Mr. Stark scowled at the suggestion. “But Pep, I wanted to talk to him before we left. You know this!” He whined. “An entire universe knows we’re here, and we’ve just kicked some serious ass! We need to coordinate as soon as we get back, make sure that we have a plan in place for the next—”

“You’ll do no such thing, buster! You know that Bruce and Steve will have returned the stones by the time we’ve returned, so stop being difficult. He’s signed on to do the whole ‘Avengers’ thing...” She popped her head out the door and gave him a pointed look. “Whereas you, Anthony Edward Stark, are retired. You have other priorities in your life now.”

They shared a significant look then, and if Peter had been paying attention, he’d have probably noticed it but—well, Peter’s brain was still warring between finding the motivation to get up off the couch versus never getting up again.

He knew what Mr. Stark had said earlier was true, and appreciated the fact that he was fully in Peter’s corner; but now that he was calmer... uh, visibly calmer, he had to start figuring stuff out, asap.

Once Mr. Stark got ahold of Wong, who Peter thought he might have met at some point during his recovery, they’d be on their way. He’d only slept lightly for an hour or so, and Mrs. Stark didn’t need long to finish gathering up the personal items they’d been able to collect thanks to the very wizards Mr. Stark was still muttering about. It looked like it was only a small suitcase for the two of them, and Peter had—yeah. He took a steadying breath as he realized, Peter had nothing to grab. All he possessed were the sweats and t-shirt Mr. Stark had given him to wear after his time in the med bay.

He didn’t even have shoes to wear... home?

Reality wasn’t holding back from soundly smacked Peter in the face.

“Wong! Ol’ buddy! Tony Stark, here!” Mr. Stark boomed from beside him. “Your roommate, Dr. Strange, has volunteered you for Stark family relocation duty.” Mr. Stark looked at his watch, “What are you doing in about an hour?”

Peter could have heard the reply if he’d wanted to, but he was drawn to another phone, Mrs. Stark’s, ringing quietly in the bedroom.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the woman answered with a whisper. “How are you?”

Whoever answered was quiet—just quiet enough that Peter couldn’t hear anything in return over Mr. Stark’s conversation, and he knew he had no business being curious but—

“Perfect!” Mr. Stark grew louder, forcing Peter’s attention back to their plans. “Now, do you serve lunch on this trip or is it just a bag of peanuts and...” Mr. Stark stopped talking. From what Peter could hear, it seemed that Wong didn’t share Mr. Stark’s sense of humour. “Yes, Wong, I’m sorry.” Mr. Stark rolled his eyes and smirked at the boy. “Yes, I und... no.” Was Mr. Stark getting flustered? “Of course I can be respectful of... yes. I know—I know. Wait, what?—C’mon, you know I was only— But—No, Wong! C’mon—“ A defeated sigh, “Do I have to?—But?—okay! I KNOW!” Mr. Stark pinched his nose, huffed in frustration and then calmed. “Thank you, Wong. We’ll see you in a bit.”

FRIDAY disconnected the call when Mr. Stark turned his attention to Peter. “Kid, I hope you appreciate what I’m about to have to do for you.”

Having no clue what the man was talking about, Peter nodded. “Okay, sir.”

Mr. Stark glared.

“I mean Mr. Stark.” Peter really was trying to keep his struggling from being too obvious, but was apparently failing. “I’m sorry. I’m just...” Peter trailed off as he started fidgeting with his fingers. He couldn’t figure out his place and it left him feeling off kilter. His default setting in those moments had always been hyper-politeness—even if Mr. Stark didn’t like it.

Peter would just have to try harder.

Mr. Stark pulled him close and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, but said nothing. It was kind of nice and maybe would have given him a chance to catch his breath, except that—

“Alright, dear heart, I’ll see you in a few days.” Mrs. Stark blew a kiss over the phone line, and disconnected from her own call.

Peter’s mind drifted to the bedroom for just a second, wondered who Mrs. Stark would be speaking to like that, and then was forced to come back to Mr. Stark.

“—get that this is a weird time for you, kiddo, but we’ll get home and get you settled in at the tower in no time at all. Happy’s already pulling your stuff from storage and we’ll set up the room next to May’s so you’re close by—we can wait on all that ‘other stuff’ while we get things figured out, but you can make that call once you’re ready. Does that work for you?”

Peter nodded.

Mrs. Stark exited the bedroom, her phone still in hand. “Any luck with Wong?” She asked. “I couldn’t hear the drama over my own call.” She wiggled her phone in the air. “But things are set, right?”

Mr. Stark smiled at her, “You’ll be pleased to know that everything is under control. I’ll grab our bag and we’ll be off once he gets here.” He side-hugged Peter, then finally got up off the couch. “I will, however, take a minute to see if I can grab a quick meet-up with T’challa seeing as our departure timeline has moved up.”

Peter’s stomach dropped. He was leaving?

Peter didn’t notice as Mr. Stark stared down at Peter, saw something, and then crouched down to meet his eyes. “Unless... are you going to be good here with Pepper?”

He hadn’t meant to convey his hesitance at being left with Mrs. Stark. She’d been nothing but kind to him and he had no reason to be concerned—it was just that he hadn’t been away from Mr. Stark in the last days and hours and everything felt so damned raw—and it was written all over his face. “It’s fine, Mr. Stark, really!” He stared back and cursed the fact that he could feel himself tearing up. “I’m good.”

Mr. Stark crooked an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Okay,” he cried out at being called out. “I’m not good, but that doesn’t change the fact that you need to go see Mr. King T’challa!”

Mr. Stark snorted at his response. “Kid, how many times am I going to have to remind you? You were literally spit out powerless into the middle of a battle for the universe after being dusted for five years and have only just started to find out how different things are. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m about ready to drop everything to make sure you’re okay, okay?”

Peter cringed and wished he’d stop bringing it up... like REALLY wished he’d stop. The constant reminder made him feel—well, he didn’t know how he felt, but it wasn’t fantastic, so he rolled his eyes and tried to play it off. “I get that, Mr. Stark. Honest. I just—“ he didn’t know how to say that he had to start figuring stuff out and that him being coddled wasn’t gonna help when all was said and done. Peter looked over to Mrs. Stark, who was watching with interest. “Look, Mrs. Stark is right here and I’m pretty sure she can keep me from setting the room on fire while you’re gone, and...” Beyond that, he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Mr. Stark thought for a couple of seconds, then chuckled. “I’m being a bit of a helicopter parent, aren’t I?”

Rubbing the unfallen tears from his eyes, Peter just shrugged. “I guess?” He answered, but quickly qualified the answer, “But I know you’ve gone through stuff, too, so we’ve just gotta-- I don’t know, figure it out as we go?”

Mr. Stark just stared at him, like he was trying to figure something out, but not saying a word.

“Mr. Stark, you’ll be back soon, right?”

He nodded.

“Then we’ll be fine.” Peter looked over to Mrs. Stark, “Mrs. Stark can finish up with whatever she needs to do and I’ll see if I can find something to occupy myself for a bit. There’s a tonne of windows so I can check out all the scenery I’ve missed while laid up, and this suite has enough artwork to fill a wing at a museum! There’s stuff to do. You have to be back before Mr. Wong gets here anyways, so I know you won’t get distracted, right?”

Mr. Stark continued assessing. “You know that’s really sad, don’t you? Contenting yourself with looking out windows and checking out the pictures in the bathroom…”

Peter smiled back at him. “Just because I like science and building stuff doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate something beautiful, Mr. Stark. I’m a well rounded sorta’ guy.” He brushed his knuckles against an invisible lapel. “Trust me. I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t know what it was, but something shifted and Mr. Stark seemed satisfied. “Alright, but if you decide you need me, you get Pepper to call me, okay?”

Peter nodded in agreement.

“Like if you miss me or feel sick or remember a joke you wanted to tell me, got it? No reason is a stupid reason if you need me here.”

Peter blinked back tears again at the obvious affection. “I’ve got it, Mr. Stark, but you should get going. You’ve only got forty-five minutes before Mr. Wong shows up.” He took a deep breath, then held it in.

“Right. Wong. Can’t wait for him to get here.” Mr. Stark replied dryly. “It’ll be great.”

Peter snorted. He almost wished he’d paid more attention to the call. “Yeah, it will be.”

“Well then,” Mr. Stark straightened up, and everyone politely ignored the popping and cracking of his back and knees. “I’m going to dash off really fast and then be right back.” He gave Mrs. Stark a quick peck on the cheek. “Take care of my spider for me, honey. He’s great entertainment when you’re looking for a distraction during a board meeting.” He gave Peter a wink, and then stepped toward the door.

Peter stood up and moved to stand beside Mrs. Potts.

Mr. Stark put a hand on the doorknob, stopped, and looked back over his shoulder at Peter and his wife. “Seriously, call for anything.”

With that declaration, Mr. Stark finally left the room.

The two of them simply stared at the door.

It took less than a minute for the silence to become awkward.

“So, how’s the shoulder feeling, Peter?” Mrs. Stark questioned politely.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who felt uncomfortable? “Oh,” Peter scrunched his forehead in thought as he cautiously moved his arm. “Um, wow.” He moved it a little more. “I think it’s better?!” He couldn’t hide his surprise as he stared back at her. “I wonder when that happened?”

Mrs. Stark smiled softly at him, “I don’t know, but I’m glad to know that you’re not in any pain.” She sat beside him on the couch and placed a tender hand on his arm. “It was hard for everyone to see you suffering— especially Tony so…”

“Yeah,” Peter rubbed at the back of his neck in discomfort. He didn’t like thinking about bothering other people when he was hurt, and this had been a situation he couldn’t work around. “Um, thanks, I guess?”

She smiled so kindly at him, but Peter didn’t know what to say, so the silence descended upon the pair once again.

Then Mrs. Stark clapped her hands together, startling Peter in the process.

“Art!” She blurted out. “You said that you wanted to look at some of the works in the suite, and it just so happens that Queen Ramonda gave me a little tour of the place before leaving us to settle in.” She was practically beaming. “I can give you some information on the pieces and maybe we can get to know each other a little… if you’d like?”

Peter wanted to decline. The urge to mindlessly meander as he tried to figure out what his next steps were was almost physical. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to be alone until Mr. Stark had gone.

But Mrs. Stark looked almost hopeful.

He smiled at her and hoped it didn’t look too fake, “I don’t want to take you away from whatever you have to do, Mrs. Stark.”

Her grin widened even more, if that was possible. “Nonsense!” she exclaimed. “We just need to grab our bags and we’re done—and I love doing stuff like this!” She stepped towards an incredible sculpture Peter hadn’t noticed before. “Did you know that before I completely flipped my life around and decided to go the Business Admin track at university, I planned to be an Art History major.”

Peter tried really hard to reconcile the Pepper Potts that ran Stark Industries and the Pepper Potts that would have spent her days walking the halls of art museums.

“You can’t picture it, can you?”

The question brought him up short. “I don’t think I can.” He answered honestly, “But that doesn’t mean anything. I mean really, to know me, would you ever imagine that I run around Queens in a unitard and a mask?”

She laughed out loud at the description, “Well, when you put it that way…”

Peter laughed along too, quieter but sincere.

When they’d both settled again, the quiet felt less tense, but Mrs. Stark still wouldn’t allow it to remain. “Do you really like art?” She asked, feeling less forced than the first time.

Peter didn’t think before he answered. “Yeah, I do. I was really looking forward to the field trip that day—my friend, MJ,” he blushed at the mention of her name. “She was going to show me a new photo exhibit that the museum had just opened up, and I was really excited to see it—plus Uncle Ben used to take me there when I was a kid.” He added, unprompted. “He needed to make sure my brain didn’t jam up with cogs and gears, he’d say.” He chuckled quietly, “But then…” Peter shrugged, the words no longer coming to him.

This time, the quiet served a purpose and so it was left to sit—until Peter was ready.

“So, tell me about the statue.” Peter piped up as he walked towards it. “And I have to ask, because it’s me—Am I allowed to touch this? ‘Cuz it’s screaming for me to—”

Mrs. Stark took the cue, gladly it seemed. Heavy stuff was over for now and it was time to move on.

“Queen Ramonda didn’t say either way, but this bust dates back to the 1600s so I’d wager a guess that we’ll just be looking with our eyes today. Alright, Peter?” She put a firm hand on Peter’s back, but gave a teasing wink.

Peter slumped in mock defeat. “Fine,” he pretend-grumped and then spent the next twenty minutes really looking at each piece of art with snippets of information being shared by Mrs. Stark. “MJ would definitely love this.” He decided. “She says everything you need to know about a civilization is demonstrated by how it treats its artists.” He smiled. “I wish I had my phone so I could take some pics to show her how—“ He stopped talking. “Oh.” He was growing tired of fading off into new realizations.

Mrs. Stark noticed his shift in mood and moved closer to him, “Peter? Are you alright?”

Peter stopped himself from answering immediately and focussed on the painting in front of him. He was trying to wrap his brain around another ‘something’ that he hadn’t considered and needed to not have another stupid breakdown in front in front of someone he didn’t really know. Seriously, Mr. Stark was bad enough—but to do it in front of his wife? He let out a torturous scream... in his head, which synced up to the actual heavy sigh he released. “Mrs. Stark? How do I find out if someone was snapped?” He tried not to sound so lost and pathetic but it couldn’t be helped. “I mean, the last time I saw Ned and MJ, I was jumping off of a school bus and heading towards that stupid space donut and now it’s been five years so who knows where they could be?”

She stepped closer still and put an arm around his shoulder. “There’s a registry, Peter. I can check it for you right now or we can check together when we get home, if you’d like... but maybe Tony already knows?” Mrs. Stark gave his shoulder a squeeze. “He was a little...” she seemed to search for a word before she continued, “hyper-focussed when he got back from Titan and anything that impacted the people in his inner circle was at the top of his agenda.” She turned to face him, keeping the contact. “That included you, so...”

Peter couldn’t make the decision. He simply couldn’t, and tried to let Mrs. Potts know, but all he could croak out was, “I... I...”

She enveloped the boy in a hug once she saw the impending panic, and he was remarkably okay with it, even as he tentatively returned the embrace.

“I know you don’t know me as well as the others, Peter, but I’ve gotten to know you through Tony and May—and I want you to know that I’m here for you, too, alright?”

He nodded into her shoulder.

“Doing all of this now, or in hour or even a day—it doesn’t change anything. It can wait until you’re ready. Okay? I know you’re physically all better now, but you’re still allowed to take time.”

He breathed in a calming breath, and exhaled.

“You have so many people in your corner, sweetie. You’ll get through this.”

He nodded again and stepped back from her after a second’s hesitation. “Um, thanks, Mrs. Stark. Sorry about that.” He chuckled nervously and dragged his hand through his hair.

“That’s not something to apologize for, Peter. Not ever.” She lightly scolded. “Now, did you want to look at another painting? Or did—“

“I’d like to look!” Peter suddenly blurted and then realized how crazy he must have sounded. “I mean, um... would it be alright if I used your phone to take a look? – If it’s not too much trouble. I just... I’d... I really want to know. That’s all... I think.”

“That’s not a problem at all.” She collected her phone from the coffee table where she’d discarded it before their impromptu art tour and tapped at the screen. “I haven’t been on the app since before so I’m not sure if or how it’s been organized, but there is a search function.” She swiped the screen, tapped an icon, and handed the phone over. “It looks like we have another ten or so minutes before Tony gets back, and Wong should be shortly after, so...”

Peter took the phone and stared wide-eyed at the screen.

“Do you want me to look for you?”

Peter shook his head. “I think I’m okay. I think it’s just... I just did the whole ‘tell me now’ thing with May and that didn’t work out so well for me, ya’ know? And here I am doing it again like an idiot. I can’t help but think—” He cut himself off.

“I can understand your hesitancy.” Mrs. Stark offered. “You’re in control here, though, so just say the word...”

The screen darkened in warning of the pending lock screen. He swiped his thumb across the gorilla glass and it lit up again. He thought about it for a second then looked up at Mrs. Stark. “Would it be okay if I did this alone?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I’ll just step out while you—“She moved toward the suite door.

“No!” He called out to her. “Please don’t leave—just, can you maybe just hang out in the other room?” He blushed at his neediness. “I don’t want to be ALONE alone—just a little alone. And this should only take a second, right?” He tried to explain, and failed.

“I completely get it.” She pointed toward the bedroom she’d shared with Mr. Stark. “I’ll sneak in there and wait until you decide you’re ready. Does that work?” She asked.

“Yeah, um, thanks.”

She didn’t say anything else, just stepped into the bedroom and smiled at him in encouragement as she closed the door behind her.

And Peter was left holding the phone, with a search screen glaring back at him.

It wasn’t a big deal, right?

He tried to convince himself as he sat himself down on the couch.

Of course it wasn’t.

Not at all.

Which was why he held his breath as he first typed in “Edward Leeds.”

A couple thousand “Edward Leeds” suddenly filled the screen, primarily out of the UK. Of course it couldn’t be that easy he thought, and Peter was almost overwhelmed—until he caught sight of the ‘refine search’ field at the top of the new screen.

He remembered the day he’d met his best friend, and how insistent the boy was that Edward was a loser name—that Ned was where it was at and he’d be forever known only by that... ‘but don’t tell my mom, okay?’ Peter chuckled as he typed exactly that under “Nicknames” and pressed ‘go.’

Three hundred seven “Edward ‘Ned’ Leeds” popped up that time, which was definitely a more manageable number, even if it still sucked. Peter wasn’t shocked to see that most of them were still scattered through the UK, but with the list not going on forever, he could see all of those other Neds scattered through Australia, Canada, and even parts of Africa and South America. The twenty-eight US Neds were scattered throughout the country—but he only had his eye out for one Edward ‘Ned’ Leeds of New York, specifically Queens—and the one word beside his name in red: BLIPPED.

It was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and with the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be alone when he got back home, he frantically typed in “Michelle Jones.” He had to remind himself that she also had a nickname so he wouldn’t freak out completely when the kazillion Michelle Jones filled the screen. He hit ‘refine search’ once more and typed in the two letters—‘m’ and ‘j.’

0 results showing.

Peter entered her name again, hated himself just a little for not knowing her middle name—if she even had a middle name—and hit ‘go.’ He refined the search again. Hit ‘go’ again.’

0 results showing.

“shit.”

“Language, kid. My virgin ears can’t handle that kind of potty talk.”

Peter did NOT jump a couple of feet of the couch and let loose a high pitched scream of terror when the unexpected voice came from behind him.

The door to the bedroom flew open and slammed against the wall as Mrs. Stark rushed into the living room calling out, “Peter! What’s wrong?!”

Mr. Stark’s laughter told her everything she needed to know and before a chest clutching Peter had even turned completely to glare at the man, Mrs. Potts was smacking him on the arm. “Tony, you jerk! Be good!”

“Hey!” He exclaimed as he tried to get away from his wife’s mock fury, “I didn’t know he hadn’t heard me come in!” He dodged another playful swat. “C’mon, Pep! Give me a break!”

She stopped her attack on Mr. Stark after giving him what Peter could only describe as a death stare and immediately turned her attention to Peter. "Are you okay, honey?" she asked.

Peter shook his head even as he tried to catch his breath. "Geez, Mr. Stark! Give a man some warning next time!"

Still trying to get his giggles under control, Mr. Stark defended himself. "You've got your Peter-tingle, kid. I figured you knew I was there!"

Mr. Stark was not endearing himself to the boy in this moment. "It's my spider-sense, Mr. Stark—Peter-tingle is stupid. I don't care what Aunt May says about it, and anyways, it only works when someone is trying to hurt or kill me. You don't count as that... even though I was about a second away from dying from a heart attack." Peter breathed deep, trying to calm his heart. "Geez. Not cool, man. Not cool at all."

Mr. Stark jumped over the back of the couch and landed with a bounce beside Peter. "Aw, kid. I am sorry, but you were just sitting there and I was so excited to tell you about my visit with T'challa-- but... yeah, I guess you were a million miles away then?

Peter couldn't speak for a few seconds, as his mind re-focussed on the phone in his hand. "Um, no. Not that far-- just in Queens, I guess?"

Mr. Stark looked confused. "Queens?"

"Yeah," he answered back. "I was checking to see who'd been snapped and who hadn't, and, yeah..."

The sadness reflecting in Mr. Stark's face told Peter that he knew. "Peter, you could have asked." He sighed. "We just keep messing up, huh?" He sidled up closer to Peter and slung his arm around him again. "Well, Ned was snapped, but I guess you've seen that, right?"

Peter nodded 'yes.'

"Don't panic about him," Mr. Stark assured him. "He's safe and sound with his family and is waiting for you to call him when you get home."

"How...?"

"Happy does more than empty storage lockers, buddy. I promise you, Ned and his family are fine and your Guy in the Chair is ready and waiting for your return."

"Thank goodness." Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "But did you check up on MJ, too? Where is she? Is she safe, too?"

"Well, your friend MJ, she obviously didn't get snapped," Mr. Stark gestured the phone in Peter's hand, "And by the time we were in communication with people there at the tower, she had already tried to set up camp in the lobby and was going to wait for me to get back... well, for you to get back, but that didn't work out so..."

Peter couldn't hide his confusion.

"Don't worry. She’s good, I promise. We set her up in a suite, too. Her mom had been snapped, but her step-dad was still in the picture so she decided she needed to bail, but fast. I guess he was a real winner so..."

Peter snorted at the understatement. "You could say that."

Mr. Stark did his crooked eyebrow thing and Peter knew he needed to explain. "Let's just say that Spider-Man had to make a visit or two to the apartment when MJ's mom was working overnight shifts.

Mr. Stark almost growled at that information. "Well then I don't feel nearly so bad about hiding her away until she could head off to college."

"Good. You shouldn't-- but college?"

"Of course college. MJ's smart as a whip, and I wasn't gonna let that brain rot at some community college because her low-life step dad was drinking away her college fund."

Peter smiled bigger than he could remember at that, "You sent her to college?"

"You know, you could just call her when you get back, you know. I'm sure she'd love to hear from you. Besides, she may seem tough as nails, but that kid gets homesick just like the rest of them."

Peter flushed and fiddled with the phone he kept forgetting he still held. "Um, yeah, I'm pretty sure that twenty-three year old MJ is not waiting for a call from me."

"C'mon, Pete, maybe she's spent the last five years living a different life than you all had planned, but you were still one of her best friends and that doesn't change."

Peter smiled again, a little more tentative. "You don't think she'll think it's weird?"

And Mr. Stark laughed again. "It's MJ, of course she'll think it's weird, but if you think she'll give two craps about that, then you didn't know her nearly as well as you say you did."

Peter knew he was right, and was just about to say so when there was a knock at the door and Mr. Wong was hollering through it. "Let's go, Stark, I left something simmering on the stove back at the Sanctum Sanctorum."

Mrs. Stark was the one to actually open the door to the man, and Peter stood up to introduce himself to the man-- or at least he thought he would. Mr. Wong focussed completely on the man still sitting on the couch, "Stark."

Mr. Stark lifted himself off the couch and turned to face him. "Wong."

The men simply stared at each other, assessing, when Mr. Stark finally spoke. “Look, Wong, I shouldn’t have been so glib about the whole,” Mr. Stark waved his hands in the air, “thing, and I’m sorry. Let’s just call it good and be done, okay?”

Wong stared, but said nothing.

“Really?”

A dead stare.

“Ugh. Fine.”

Peter watched Mr. Stark work himself up to do... something. Whatever it was, it had to be awful for Mr. Stark’s reaction.

"Oh, great and powerful Wong..." and then Mr. Stark stopped. He huffed and put his hands on his hips. "Are you really going to make me say this?"

Mr. Wong stared back, "You know my conditions."

"Fine."

Was Mr. Stark sulking?

He started again, "Oh, great and powerful Wong..." and then he stomped his foot. "Look, I said I was sorry. I won't be so--"

"You'd have been done by now if you stopped delaying, Stark. I'm waiting."

Peter looked to the door where Mrs. Stark was still standing. She was looking just as confused as Peter felt.

Mr. Stark took a deep breath and started once more. "Oh, great and powerful Wong." He paused, but only to clear his throat. "It must have been cold there in my shadow, to never have sunlight on your face. You were content to let me shine, that's your way. You always walked a step behind. So I was the one with all the glory, while you were the one with all the strength. A beautiful face without a name...”

Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing and side-stepped cautiously away from the men and closer to Mrs. Stark, whose mouth was hanging open in disbelief. “Um, Mrs. Stark, is Mr. Stark quoting Bette Midler lyrics?”

She could only nod.

“Okay,” he squeaked back. “Just wanted to make sure we were seeing the same thing.”

It took a minute for him to make his way through all the lyrics, but just as Mr. Stark rattled off the last lines of the song, Mr. Wong folded his arms and smiled in sick satisfaction. “Perfect. I’m sure Mr. Master of the Mystic Arts will appreciate your cooperation while he’s matching socks for the next month.”

Mr. Stark sputtered in disbelief, but before he could say an actual word, Mr. Wong turned to Peter, bowed, and smiled. “Ah, young Mr. Parker. It is a pleasure to finally meet you now that you are awake.”

Peter bowed back shyly, but Mr. Stark had finally found his words. “Wait a minute here. You said that I’d offended you and that you’d only forgive me if I quoted—“ He blustered a little more, “You said it was soothing!”

Mr. Wong laughed stiffly. “I know what I said! But I’d already bet Stephen that I could get you to quote a song from an 80s soundtrack and I really wanted to get out of laundry.”

“And making dinner, maybe? Is he actually watching that pot on the stove, too?” Mr. Stark snarked back.

“Nah. We’re ordering pizza tonight. I just wanted you to hurry, is all.” Wong turned his attention back to Peter. “And I can imagine you want to get home, too.”

Peter, who was quietly chuckling at the interaction, nodded. “Yes, please, Mr. Wong,” he answered back politely. “If it’s not a problem?”

“It’s just Wong, kid, and because you asked so nicely,” he made a point to stare accusingly at Mr. Stark and then looked back to Peter, “I’ll get right to it.” He addressed the room. “Do you have everything you need? Polite or not, I’m not coming back for a toothbrush.”

“I’m all set, Mr. Wong, but, I guess, um...” Peter stood patiently while Mr. And Mrs. Stark took the hint and rushed into the bedroom to do a quick once over and grab the already packed suitcase. It was barely a minute before they were back and ready to go.

Wong nodded in satisfaction. “Alright then, let’s go.”

Peter watched in fascination as Mr. Wong placed a weird ring on his left hand and started making a circular motion with his right. In only seconds, sparks flew and a circle formed, then grew larger, and larger—and then large enough that they’d all be able to step through without even needing to duck their heads. “How does this work? Do you come through with us?” Peter asked.

Mr. Wong smiled again and shook his head. “No, I’ll head back to the Sanctum and replay my memories for Stephen after you’ve all stepped through, so get a move on.” He gave a teasing wink then gestured to the circle, still sparking. “There’s nothing special to it, Peter. Whenever you’re ready.”

Peter’s capacity for boldness had apparently fled and he stared timidly at the circle.

Mrs. Stark stepped up, pulled her phone from Peter’s hand and then grabbed hold of it. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, I think I could go for pizza, too. What do you say, Peter?”

He appreciated the anchor, grabbed onto it. “Sure, Mrs. Stark. That sounds great.” He turned to Mr. Wong one last time. “Thank you for doing this, Mr. Wong. I’m grateful—and I guess for all the things you and the other wizards did for everyone.”

Wong snorted. “We’re sorcerers, Peter, and don’t let this guy tell you anything different.” He thumbed over at the waiting Mr. Stark. “And you’re welcome. Now go, kick your feet up, and order that pizza. We’ll see each other again.”

Peter grinned back at the man—sorcerer. “If you say so—take care.” And he and Mrs. Stark stepped through what Peter figured had to be some sort of portal. “Mr. Stark?” Peter called back, “Are you coming?”

“One sec, Pete,” Mr. Stark replied and turned back to Mr. Wong saying something that Peter couldn’t hear for the distortion between the two locations.

But if he could have heard, he’d have heard Mr. Stark give a tentative thank you for the show— that it would be something Peter could laugh about for a while.

And Wong’s reply. “He’ll need the happy memories, Stark. Help him make them.”

#fanfiction #IronDad and SpiderSon #Avengers: Endgame #non-compliant #ao3fic #AO3 fanfic #OBlossom

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datawyrms · 4 years

Text

Still Robophobic?

Chapter 2 while crawling through all of K1-B0′s text so I can inanely chatter and make depth that probably wasn’t there because it makes me happy. and you can’t stop me. Once again I am serious this is all of his text so this is LONG. (and if you didn’t read my first super long post covering Prologue/ch1, you might want to do that first) someone make me work on my fics lol

Also I totally just realized Keebo is totally hiding behind Himiko after Monokuma’s return to life and I just MISSED HIM lol. He trusts Kaede and Shuichi, even when they’re being sketchy as heck and says he’ll think of plans too, because more plans are better than less. shame upon me for overlooking more of his trusting and trying to help nature. MOVING ON.

Cold open with the funeral that starts at Kaede’s portrait so you think it’s current but no this is for our viewing pleasure only...Gonta finds the horse a hint...Kaito abuses a doorbell and shepherds Shuichi out of the room...get to the dining hall and Keebs is muttering questions so he can be the first one talking in a scene again!

K1-B0: Writing...? Gonta: Yeah! Like someone try to hide writing in grass! Weird, right!?

keep shining on with your refusal to do anything but ask questions unless talking to Kokichi or a Protag, Keebo. As Keebo is garbage at people, he has zero reaction to the Hatless Reveal. The human has removed part of their clothing and he does not care. If you’re curious, Maki, Ryoma, Himiko, Keebo and Kiyo are the only ones not to remark on it at all. :v

Kokichi: Kirumi, be my mom! Gonta: Gonta want you to be his mom, too! K1-B0: ...What are you two even saying?

even keebs knows you two are being hecka weird by asking that guys. Which is probably the joke that the robot calls them on this. Or it’s him not getting the point of moms/what they’re asking for...since you know. Built in a lab...(Though he does know, since he made fun of Kaede that way.)

K1-B0: ... Kokichi: Hm? What's wrong, Kee-boy? You're not eating— Oh yeah! I totally forgot you can’t eat! Y’know, cuz you’re a robot! K1-B0: ... Kokichi: Hey now, don't look so down. I'll bring you a broken TV later. K1-B0 I don't want that... I'm not a waste receptacle. Angie: Nyahahaha! Keebo and Kokichi seem to be getting along swimmingly!

Everyone’s eating and Keebo is just listlessly staring at food. Till Kokichi decides to loudly announce to everyone that’s what he’s doing. Which, judging by the fact Kaede had to ask...Keebo might have told Kokichi based on how he says ‘he forgot’ that and no one has really noticed he just watches. It’s been a busy set of days, I suppose. Angie is right in a way, she notices how Kokichi’s poking isn’t getting as much of a response and how the little punk keeps pushing on to get some words out of him. Course, it mostly looks like he’s making fun of him, but that’s Kokichi! for an ‘emotionless robot’ you sure picked out his emotion, tiny terror. Things Keebo doesn’t call robophobic: being told to eat broken electronics. He is pretty down though, Kaede’s FTE makes it pretty clear he’s pretty jealous that he can’t eat. Considering it looks good to him and all. (Who programmed that. Why would you do that.).

Shuichi falls into the depressing narrative ‘everyone is faking being normal’ mode after that conversation, we talk about the horse a hint again/Gonta’s gullibility.

Kokichi: Nee-heehee... Gonta, you're so gullible. Y'know, if you keep being this gullible... You’ll be killed before you know it. Understand? Shuichi: ...Ah! The moment Kokichi said that word, the warm and casual mood shattered. K1-B0: What's wrong, everyone? Is there a problem with Kokichi's advice? Gonta: Oh, Kokichi... You no should say thing like that, even as joke.

Keebs can sorta read the air to tell the mood just got real nasty...but has no idea why because to him it’s perfectly sensible advice. this boy. If someone is tempted to commit murder, logically they’ll try to trick people. Who do you trick? Someone gullible. He knows it isn’t a joke. No one actually answers him either, though he can probably guess by Tenko calling Kokichi insensitive. this is why he’s bad at people, people ignore him aaa

Kokichi tries reminding people hey monokuma is totally gonna exploit your glaring weakpoints lol/ups his dislike score, said bear shows up, kubz give area unlocks/ make an attack on titian reference with the nape of the neck thing and they skadoodle. (keebo also having a neck weakness...tsumugi....)

Kokichi: Hmmm... Seeing that robot-looking one get left out makes me think of Keebo...

yes keebo, you really, really are. No one else even says anything about this, Maki moves the conversation to the items they just got. Poor guy wants to pretend he isn’t that left out. Oh well...he’ll probably figure it out...eventually... Shuichi gets given the job of rubbing items on things because he is the Protag so Go Unlock Stuff, Boy. Keebo hangs out with Tenko near the to-be-unlocked pool.

K1-B0: That item we received earlier...I think we can use it on this stone monument. Can you try?

Tutorial robot strikes again. There is information I know, so i am going to say it and have no fluff dialogue. Tenko has a pretty sweet little scene with Shuichi here and he’s just beep-boop my protagonist powers know a puzzle when I see it.

K1-B0: The ivy withered in seconds. What remarkable technology... Tenko: Ah! We can get in! We can go in from there, right!? K1-B0: ...You intend to go inside? That course of action seems dangerous. Monophanie: No, it’s not dangerous. There’s just a pool in there.

This is why no one invites you to their DnD sessions Keebo. Sure, it’s true they probably shouldn’t blindly blunder into new places but you literally just told Shuichi how to open the door. ‘Ah, a new discovery. Time to ignore it.’ Of course he’s impressed by tech bordering on magic, which is fun. I wonder if the Kubz got summoned to make sure Keebo didn’t chicken out on exploring :v He honestly seems to trust they won’t lie to them, or at least not blatantly/in ways that would get them killed.

Tenko: What should we do? There may be a pool, but we’re not going for a swim, are we? K1-B0: But...if it is not dangerous, then maybe we should take a look. It is never bad to have too much information. Shuichi: Yes, I suppose you're right...

K1-B0: It looks like there's a pool inside. We should take a closer look. It would be best to know the specifics.

Easily swayed, this robot. Two seconds ago you were all ‘let’s not go in there’ and now you’re This Is Totally Not Dangerous, time to Take A Look. Because the Monokubs said it was okay. It had the opposite effect on Tenko, but she’s outvoted by the ahogeholders. I’d say ‘make up your mind’ but this is how Keebo makes up his mind. If he knows something ‘for certain’, he wants to know more. If it’s iffy, he’s cautious. It does look like he’s indecisive as hell though xD

Shuichi: ...Then I suppose that dream is pretty far away. K1-B0: It’s not necessarily a dream of mine... But swimming with everyone does sound fun. If I tried to swim, I would just sink. Shuichi: ...And that one is even farther.

He tries to relate to Tenko a little bit here, in the swimming is her dream but really he just thinks it sounds fun to be included, he knows he can’t swim...they’re in the same boat in that regard! Tenko actually does want to learn to swim, it comes up quite a bit in URDP. Keebo not so much. He really is more chatty about himself in smaller groups :v

K1-B0: I wonder if the day will ever come when I can swim with everyone... Tenko: Keebo! I was wondering... If you fell off a boat and sank to the bottom...would you be stuck living under the sea, beneath a rock or in a pineapple!? K1-B0: What...? Shuichi: No, I believe that before you'd get too deep, your body would be crushed by the pressure... K1-B0: Please don’t say such scary things, both of you! Or I’ll never set foot on a boat!

K1-B0: ...If I ever get the chance to ride a boat, I will wear a state-of-the-art flotation device.

He’s scared. By both of them. He doesn’t get the reference at all, obviously. His hopeful wondering that he might be able to take part in something gets redirected into either being trapped alone at the bottom of the sea forever or crushed to death. From a question that basically comes out of nowhere! But he apparently is still willing to go on a boat with proper precautions. To not be left out. he just wants to be your friend guys. you could at least say sorry for freaking him out come on. His struggle with Not Being Swim Compatible continues.

Shuichi: This looks like...a storage room? K1-B0: I peeked inside and discovered all manner of pool supplies in here. It is fully stocked with kickboards, water polo balls, and even sturdy rubber inner tubes. Perhaps I can float in water if I inflate them and attach them all over my body. Shuichi: Ah, I think you would look like that tire company's mascot...

shh let him do it, it sounds funny. It’s interesting Shuichi’s willing to say this out loud, he usually keeps his snark in his head. Also, you got a lot of info from a peek Keebo. Thank you for also mentioning rubber inner tubes exist here, as this will be plot relevant later. :p

Tenko: Oh, Keebo! Are you a degenerate male or a girl!? Which is it!?

Shuichi: Really? How interesting...I suppose I did just assume he was a...he. But Keebo is a robot, so...

Non binary keebo is canon. ‘don’t know’ he/him pronouns on the profile page for the robot. Because he literally hasn’t even thought about it before. And it doesn’t seem like he intends to either! He doesn’t start rationalizing out which one he might be, just admits he...cares so little it never crossed his mind. but seriously how old are you. how long have you existed and not a SINGLE person asked you Keebo your backstory is super shaky. Or secretly depressing. also i totally forgot Miu gets way too excited by the tennis machine. no wonder she takes so long to drag keebo to the lab :v Shuichi wanders off to unlock everything else, and they all meet back up in the gym.

Angie: Alrighty then, check this out. K1-B0: That is a peculiar-looking flashlight...So, what of it? Angie: Umm, I dunno what it is either. I inspected it pretty good...Nyahahaha, but in the end I couldn't figure it out.

we’ve been here for two seconds and you’re back to asking questions aaa Though the fact Angie and Keebo have actually talked to one another again is good, it helps explain why she might have chosen to add him to her ‘friend group’ -cough- Angie then explains she asked Monokuma, he shows up, sorta explains the flashback lights.

Kaito: Hey! Don’t just give up on explaining after a single sentence! K1-B0: So...what should we do? Tenko: What should we do...? You mean, should we or should we not use the flashlight? No way! I refuse! It reeks of fishiness!

keebo i’m confiscating your question mark key. Taking relying on others opinions to entirely new levels, this robot. But hey he’s actually been answered twice! That’s better than posing the question to the sound of crickets chirping. Tenko seems to like him better in general after hanging out a bit too. (and the whole ‘is not a boy thing.) Kaito and Kokichi face off in ‘should we use the flashback light’ annnd

Tenko: I'm...staying. After hearing that degenerate’s speech, running away would just frustrate me! Gonta: Gonta also stay... Is what true gentleman would prolly do. K1-B0: I also agree with Kaito. Our defeat is 100% assured unless we stand up to this. That’s... how I feel, deep inside. Just a whisper- Kokichi: You hear it in your ghost? I'm pretty sure robots don't have ghosts, though. K1-B0: ...Leave me alone.

First mention of his inner voice! Kokichi pounces on that, which just gets Keebo to actually stand up for himself a little, though pretty pathetically. He doesn’t seem all that sure if it’s him feeling what’s right or the inner voice though...calling it a whisper. He’s completely convinced to go along with it though, he’s really more of a follower...but of course the outside world is going to compel the protag to get plot details. then they actually use the light

Shuichi: I can't either...I suddenly realized... I could not remember any important details of the Ultimate Hunt... K1-B0: It’s no use, I can’t remember either. I can only remember being chased... I can't remember anything else at all.

Way to echo Shuichi’s inner thoughts, Keebo. This whole flashback light should really be confusing him more than it does. but we’ll get to that.

Ryoma: Could the reason be that...we were caught by the Ultimate Hunt? Shuichi: Caught...by the Ultimate Hunt? K1-B0: You mean, we tried to escape by erasing our memories, but they found us anyway... And subsequently, we were captured as part of this Ultimate Hunt?

At first I thought Keebo’s ‘returned’ memory might have been slightly different to compensate for the glaring issue but nope! Here he is, stating they erased their memories. and he’s summarizing again lol. keebs. i don’t care if you throw your harddrive in a washing machine, you are going to very quickly re-learn that you’re a goddamned ROBOT. He doesn’t even question this memory, no one does! (ok, kokichi probably caught it based on what he does right after this but otherwise) did you think you were a slightly less ultimate robot how did this even logic in your head. Questions that will never be answered.

Kaito: We just gotta work together. If we cooperate, we'll make it out of here alive. Just like a certain someone said... Shuichi: ...Kaede. K1-B0: But I believe cooperating with each other is the most logical course of action— Kokichi: *snore* I’m snooooring! K1-B0: ...Why are you sleeping!? Kokichi: Whoa! Huh, what!? Tsumugi: Hey, Kokichi...we're having a serious conversation here. Kokichi: And is it written somewhere that I have to take serious conversations seriously? Kaito: Tch, quit acting so immature! Kokichi: Hm? I’m a teenager...so duh I’m immature. Aren’t you guys forgetting to act your age? K1-B0: But I don't have a biological age... Kokichi: Don't worry about it, Keebo. I'm just talking to the humans right now! K1-B0: ...Grgh! Kokichi: What were we talking about again? Something about working together to escape, right?

he thinks kokichi is actually sleeping. he genuinely buys it when he says I’M SNORING. you sheltered little robot. He is super bad with people in so many new and exciting ways. Which effectively stops him from being a driving force/leading anyone...which is probably exactly what sleepyhead wanted here. Then excludes him further with the not a human reminder, which Keebo still doesn’t actually contest. No fitting in for the robot, can’t be trusted. That and the conversation gets re-directed to the mastermind among them from this diversion. Use Robot for Free Topic Change :v Keebo doesn’t speak up again at all after this, but he’d probably have no idea what to say about Ryoma just casually going ‘nothing to live for bye’ so. Free time dialogue time!. First time slot...he’s in the dining hall

K1-B0: ...Shuichi, if you have free time, would you like to spend it with me? There's something I want to ask you.

Lookit him, taking some initiative and asking Shuichi to hang out. Negative five points because you want to ask questions. he’s a very curious robot. Second time slot he retreats to his room.

K1-B0: There's an area in this school that is closed off. It seems there are other hidden rooms as well.

There’s a lot of hidden rooms! He really doesn’t talk about anything but current events and the school... Free time ends, kubs bungle the motive delivery, Shuichi watches Kaito’s video...and goes to run off to tell him right away about his sad looking grandparents....

Shuichi: Keebo! Have you seen Kai-- K1-B0: Impeccable timing Shuichi! I was on my way to get you! Shuichi: You were? K1-B0: Everyone is gathering in the dining hall. Please come right away. I'll go get everyone else.

Keebo’s been promoted to sleepy student fetcher in the meantime, or more likely volunteered to help Kaito when he proposed gathering everyone to talk about it. Good thing Kaito didn’t beeline for Shuichi or he might have actually seen the video :v

Kirumi: Shall we wait for everyone then? Until then, I can provide you all with massages— K1-B0: Thank you for waiting! We gathered everyone else! Korekiyo: My word...and after I was about to finally experience one of Kirumi's famed massages... K1-B0: Wh-What do you mean? Are you also suggesting that I cannot read the air? Maki: So what is it? Why did you drag us here?

kiyo you’re hurting the robot’s feelings with your massage lusting. Keebo no idea and just assumes it’s a reading the air thing pffft. Getting everyone together to discuss the kubspads is a bit more important, even if they wanted to do something first. Not that anyone is going to tell him that :v

Kokichi: So, what are these videos? K1-B0: No doubt they’re the motives from Monokuma, but why were they all mixed up...? Gonta: Y-Yeah! Why Gonta get Tsumugi's video— K1-B0: No! Don’t say it Gonta! Gonta: ...Hm? Tsumugi: Aah...I heard it... I see... So Gonta has my video... Gonta: ...Huh? Gonta not supposed to say it? Miu: Who fuckin’ cares!? We’re gonna exchange ‘em anyway, right? K1-B0: No, we cannot exchange them. Shuichi: What? We can't? Ryoma: Why not? They're videos of the most important people in our lives. K1-B0: And that is precisely why we cannot exchange them. Although we do not know why our motives were mixed up...As long as we don't exchange them, we don't have to see our motives at all. Himiko: So it’s better to just ignore them... K1-B0: Yes. At least, that is what I think. Tenko: Th-That's true... If we ignore them, then we won't have a motive... Ryoma: I'm against that.

The robot has learned the technique of how to cut people off mid sentence, but was a bit too slow on the draw here. This is basically the first time Keebo takes the lead on an idea though, so of course it’s about keeping everyone safe. poor gonta. Innocently having no idea why the weird robot is suddenly pushy at him. The fact this clicked really quick for Keebo while Shuichi is still half ‘but i gotta show it to Kaito’ is pretty interesting, but makes sense. He’s probably less likely to have that emotional ‘oh friend would want to know this, i must let them know’ moment our detective is having. I expect he saw it as a motive first, and all else second. Kaito is the one who takes over when it comes to confronting Ryoma, because Keebo and conflict do not mix well. because he’s a doormat. He does speak up again though!

Kokichi: Who cares? Ryoma just stated his opinion. Actually...I feel the same way as him K1-B0: Are you...trying to cause trouble again? Kokichi: Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not saying we shouldn't care about killing or dying...But I think it'd be better if we didn't cooperate with each other...Actually we *definitely* shouldn't cooperate with each other!

...because Kokichi speaks up! Kokichi likes to remark on him, so darn it, he’s going to remark back on on the purple terror. He keeps going on for a long time here too. The fact Keebo was one to originally bring the ‘don’t share’ plan up might be why Kokichi goes so hard against it here. he doesn’t trust keebs as far as he can throw him, so anything he wants done must be obstructed. It’s early on enough that he hasn’t really had time to confirm Keebo is as harmless as he says he is (usually.) And hey if it doesn’t work he’s still showing himself as ‘difficult’ for future evil plans.

Kokichi: Anyway, I’m warning you all for your sake. Let's just exchange our motive videos instead of cooperating with each other. K1-B0: ...I cannot comprehend that logic. Kokichi: Well, now that I've said I won't cooperate, I can't afford to be seen with you losers...C’mon Gonta, let’s go.

good job keebo. don’t refute or argue, just state you have no idea how his brain works. He doesn’t speak up at all once Kokichi leaves either, not even when it devolves into Kirumi getting a bunch of orders. He isn’t one of the ones that leaves so apparently he just...watches everyone eat hot pot :v Then it’s time for more free times!

K1-B0: Everyone seemed to really enjoy that delicious-looking tripe hot pot... It's fine. You do not need to worry about me. *sigh*...

oh he literally did. I forgot this line. keebo. why do you do this to yourself. The food thing is...a big thing for him. Is this why you hate vending machines Keebo. Do you think those machines ate the food. In Free time slot two he’s alone still (he’s almost always alone, no matter where he is. Kokichi and Kaito were just in the room he’s in now the previous free time tho.)

K1-B0: I also want to know what is contained in my motive video... But...if a killing were to happen because of that... It would mean that we've betrayed the very wish that Kaede entrusted to us.

I want to know but am putting everyone being safe first. Though also ‘Keebo what on earth could you been shown that would make you thinking killing is okay suddenly.’ Then I’m ‘oh do you mean you don’t trust the person you trade with to not go murder’. Do you have Shuichi’s, Keebo? Is that making you double down on Kaede’s wish, right to Shuichi’s face? Kaito is surprised to know Shuichi has his, there’s nothing saying they had to be ‘swapped’ to match...it’s just interesting to think about. another interesting thing is Himiko and Angie are hanging out in the same room during this free time. V3 is pretty good about foreshadowing future events if you go talk to everyone! Anyway, Keebo shows up in Tenko’s parasol event/bonus scene.

K1-B0: I am grateful for your care, Kirumi. Kirumi: This is more people than I had been told. Tenko: I'm sorry... I just wanted Himiko to feel like a celebrity, too! Angie: Can I join? Atua says He wants to feel like a celebrity too! Himiko: If Atua wants to be a celebrity, then we might as well invite him too. Tenko: S-Sure... If that's what you want, Himiko. Grrrrgghhh...I just wanted to vacation like a celebrity with Himiko! Shuichi: ...Would a god want to be a celebrity?

This bit is interesting! Tenko objects to Angie coming, but she must have invited Keebo herself, as he isn’t here to set anything up. He doesn’t spend either of his free time spots at the pool, so it’s not coincidence that he’s there either. Maybe they’ve bonded over their inability to swim. He wouldn't just tag along of his own accord. Tenko then tries to shoo Shuichi away here because of course she does :v

Shuichi: ...What about Keebo? Tenko: Keebo's a robot, so he's neither male nor female! He barely passes! K1-B0: ...I cannot tell if that remark is robophobic or not. Shuichi: Well at the very least, you're better off than I am...

Want to be included...eclipsing need to be treated the same...Even though he’s self admitted to not being either! :v Keebo honestly doesn’t know what he wants. Shuichi apparently thinks you’re enough of a guy to get turfed out with him Keebo, so that’s probably something you like? It’s nice to see Tenko remembered though, considering she was the one who asked him in the first place.

Kirumi: By the way, Keebo... K1-B0: Yes? Kirumi: In your case, would you prefer oil over tropical juice?

Kirumi: Keebo, Tenko requested I help her feel like a celebrity. And she has included you as one of her guests... I will do my utmost to fulfill her request, for that is how a maid must conduct herself. So please tell me what food or beverages I can prepare so you feel like a celebrity Shuichi: Such pride and dedication... Kirumi's prowess as a maid is showing! K1-B0: Um...I do not require food. And I would not be able to taste it in the first place...

He’s a bit hard to read here! He’s happy with just the offer, but seems a bit awkward about it judging by the sprite being used. Actually being accommodated for seems to put him off a little. It seems he’s fine on oil on the moment so he has no need or desire for it though. Which conflicts with Kirumi’s goal and seems to actually irritate Keebo by pressing. He’s doing the exasperated hands up sprite when he’s stating he doesn’t need or taste food. Would it be nicer to just go ‘okay fine oil’, probably. but he doesn’t since uh. It could just be the ‘I just said no thank you why does no one LISTEN’ getting to him! that and we know keebo has like -10 to tact anyway. That and...asking him what he needs to ‘feel like a celebrity’ probably just sent him thinking ‘THAT’S A FEELING???’ so he just sticks to a fact and pretends he’s not at a loss. Keebo then spends his time more interested in the parasol than anything else, because of course he is. He honestly looks puzzled by it, it’s kinda cute.

K1-B0: Out of curiosity, do you really need that parasol even though we're indoors? Tenko: Of course! If you wanna feel like a celebrity, you absolutely need a parasol! A robot like you wouldn't understand what it means to feel like a celebrity, huh Keebo? K1-B0: Ghhhh... Th-This is a difficult feeling to understand!

Keebo cannot have a nice thing without getting dumped on for it almost immediately after :v He basically admits he doesn’t know what ‘feeling like a celebrity’ is like by trying to justify himself...but really tenko the question was fair and you just go ‘haha robot’ instead of maybe realizing it’s an atmosphere thing not a feeling thing. In the morning after Shuichi chats with Ryoma...

Shuichi: Good morning, Keebo. K1-B0: Good morning. Um, have you seen Kokichi or Gonta? Shuichi: Ah, I haven't seen them... K1-B0: I see...I saw them earlier...and they seemed to be sneaking around. Given Kokichi's penchant for mischief, do you think he's planning to cause more trouble? Gonta is very earnest but also very naive... Kokichi could easily fool him. Shuichi: That's true... That is a bit disconcerting. K1-B0: ...I wonder why Kokichi is so determined to undermine our cooperation. True, Monokuma does interfere with our attempts to cooperate, but consider this...Perhaps what Monokuma fears more than anything...is our cooperation. That is why I think that Kaede was not wrong. Shuichi: ...I think so too. I’ll always be thankful for what Kaede tried to do for us. K1-B0: That's right! If we all cooperate, I'm sure we will be able to escape this place! If we meet every morning for breakfast, we will slowly but surely become more united. Shuichi: Yeah! K1-B0: Well then, I will go to the dining hall now.

Keebo and Kokichi are mutually on one another’s case and it’s pretty hilarious. He doesn’t call Kokichi cruel or anything either...just mischievous. Even someone terrible at people saw what kind of person Gonta is, and has apparently decided Shuichi is the one who has to hear about his concerns. He’s pretty into the getting along and working together thing, but Kaito really takes the roll from him in most group settings, so we kinda only see it when Shuichi is alone. Though Shuichi maybe uh. don’t be thankful about the attempted...murder...I know that’s not what he means but hahaha it does not read well xD also Kokichi is totally Keebo’s rival, not Shuichi’s. because keebo is the real protag. :v he’s totally Togami levels of dickery to Keebo, who’s pretty Makoto-ish...even if I do read Kokichi more favourably at times for that sort of comparison :v Moving on to the dining hall.

K1-B0: According to my calculations, not everyone has gathered today. Shuichi: You can see that without doing any calculations...

You know you’re low on the totem pole when Shuichi will dunk on you. Out loud. This is the opening bit for this scene! You couldn’t remark on people missing, no. it is dunk time. Everything Keebo does is in numbers detective, he’s a robot! He doesn’t need to inform you that he calculated it, yes...but he’s trying to impress people and he just sucks at it >> anyway yes people did not come to breakfast.

Tenko: Maybe she's hiding a bunch of kids in there that she's secretly taking care of! Shuichi: What? She's not some stray dog on the streets raising pups... K1-B0: I also saw Kokichi and Gonta sneaking around together. Miu: A couple of virgins sneakin' around sounds like bad news to me!

Keebo reiterates the ‘kokichi is a menace and has gonta with him’ fact for the rest of the class/people who don’t read optional dialogue. Yet he doesn’t mention how this concerns him like he does to Shuichi alone! because that’s not a fact and we’re in a group setting.

K1-B0: Himiko is acting rather odd. I do not fully understand what she is doing...

The Ultimate Mage might not have anything nice to say about him, but he’s paid enough attention to notice the weird ‘calm’ Himiko isn’t normal. Better point it out to Shuichi! and keebo you don’t even halfway understand what she’s doing, it’s ok. Though I suppose 1% of understanding is technically not ‘fully understanding’ something too :v

Himiko: Nyeeeh...as long as I pray like this, I don't need to waste my energy on useless stuff. No matter what happens or what trouble lies ahead, my heart will be calm... K1-B0: I see...It’s escapism. Angie: No... She has merely abandoned reality to speak to Atua. Tsumugi: That *is* escapism.

He found an answer! it’s delightfully cynical and calculated and thus hilarious. He’s doing his little ‘hand up/i’ve deduced something’ pose so he looks pretty proud of it too. Tsumugi of all people backs him up on this! Though I suppose she’d know allllll about escapism! :V gdi moogie. Yet even with his short, matter of fact answer he’s still confused after all the back an forth/ the hug scene.

K1-B0: What’s going on...? Did Angie...do something to Himiko? Angie: Hm? I just undid her brainwashing, that's all. K1-B0: But...Himiko is clearly acting strange. Himiko: That’s rude. I’m not acting strange. This is my true self... I guess Atua's words can't reach robots... K1-B0: Wha—! You're being robophobic again! Angie: It's okay! Atua has compassion for robots who look human! K1-B0: O-Okay...

Aw. He’s worried about his friend...who doesn’t like him and said we should kill him. this boy, I swear. Very forgiving. We can add one to the ‘times Keebo actually outright said something was robophobic’ count...annnnd Himiko is literally using the reason that he’s a robot to invalidate his concern over her behaviour. i think he’s justified! Not to mention he instantly backs down when Angie basically goes ‘oh Atua would include you’ and doesn’t argue for any other robots here...really just say ‘stop treating me like i’m sub human’, but then they’d just say he is sub human so. robophobic it is :v He just wants to be included so badly...but he’s getting the message as a robot he can’t. and that is sad. of course he listens to angie later, atua and her will include him, even as a robot. Though not at first! The next time he talks...

Angie: No, noooo, that's wrong. It's not enough to simply live here forever. Our lives must also be full of divine purpose. In other words...We must make this academy heaven on earth! Shuichi: What...? Angie: In doing so...our desire to leave will vanish, and the killings will cease. K1-B0: Are you...being serious right now? Angie: This place provides us all with shelter, food, clothing, and wonderful friends! What more could you possibly desire? Do not give in to your greed.

He’s very much on the ‘no, we are not staying here forever’ train. He can’t parse if she’s being serious or not. He’s also doing the job of reacting since Shuichi is still mostly reacting in his own head instead of out loud. Her argument might compel him a little though, considering how alternate plans of escape haven’t really shown up...

Himiko: Now is the time to demonstrate my powers. My magic is the only thing that can heal your twisted hearts. K1-B0: But in our current predicament, performing magic tricks is quite illogical- Himiko: Nyeeeh, don't disturb my concentration. You gotta learn to read the mood already. And...it's called a magic show cuz I do magic. Not tricks

Cut off again and dismissed! Keebo needs to avoid people shorter than himself, apparently it never goes well for him. Though he does get an unintentional stab at Himiko here by outright ignoring her ‘magic’ bit to clarify that they’re tricks. He isn’t too great at telling a sort of performance could cheer people up, sure...but people really should be thinking of other solutions too. but no we’re gonna dunk on the robot and go ‘shut up you’re dumb’. The fact he still attends when he clearly doesn’t get how it should help, or why...he’s trying so, so hard.

Korekiyo: Kehehe... Faith as intense as this can be quite terrifying. K1-B0: There may be no cause for concern. This does not appear to be related to our motive videos. Kaito: You're only worried about that? K1-B0: Of course. We cannot afford to take Monokuma’s motives lightly. Tsumugi: But...everyone who isn't here could be showing each other their videos, right?

yes kaito, he already expressed concern over Himiko’s behaviour and basically got told to sit down and shut up. Twice. Of course he’s only focused on the only thing he didn’t instantly get shut down over. You should have backed him up earlier! I really do love Kaito, but Keebo never really benefits from Kaito’s good qualities. Free time again, he’s hanging out on the 3rd floor. Same general area as Maki’s lab...so basically alone, as usual.

K1-B0: A magic show...It seems unconnected to the killing game, so I do not foresee any issues with it...

Fortune telling is not one of his skills. Though I suppose the show itself has no issues, it’s what happens before...This is also the last FT slot in the chapter so I’m smacking the level one FTE here.

K1-B0: Since you have come to speak to me...I can only assume that you've taken some sort of interest in me. Shuichi: Ah, well...you are a robot, after all. K1-B0: Indeed. Curiosity is a very useful human quality...Very well, I shall humor you. Shuichi: ...Hm. I feel as though he's talking down to me a little... K1-B0: So first, I will explain my functions. As a robot, I'm somewhat extraordinary compared to you. Shuichi: But...I remember you saying something about having the strength of an old person... K1-B0: T-True, but...Considering the tragedy that occurred during trial production, it was a logical design choice.Now first, is my visual acuity. I have 20/13 vision... Impressive, no? Shuichi: ...You think so? I believe that's pretty normal... K1-B0: What are you talking about!? Over 50% of high school students have less than 20/20 vision! But no matter what, my visual acuity will always be 20/13. Shuichi: If it got any worse, I suppose that would count as a malfunction... K1-B0: My next function will definitely surprise you. Shuichi, please raise your hand. Shuichi: Huh? My what? K1-B0: I want you to put your hand in front of my mouth. Shuichi: ...Like this? K1-B0 Haaaaaaaaaaa... Shuichi: ...What the hell is this? K1-B0: Haaaaaaaaaaa... Shuichi: Lukewarm breath grazed across my hand. Well, Keebo is a robot, so maybe not "breath"... K1-B0: How about that? In addition, my warm breath also functions as a dryer. Shuichi: Ah...I see... K1-B0: Now, now, you can't be surprised just yet, okay? Case in point, my hand can turn into a multi-tool! With both hands, I have 20 tools at my disposal! My finger can detect wafting aromas, and even distinguish between different scents! I also have a music player for when I'm bored. I can even play tapes and records. Neat, huh? Shuichi: I'm still thinking about how weird your breath felt, I dunno about your other functions... K1-B0: Don't be too surprised. After all, I am the Ultimate Robot! Shuichi: ...

The start of Keebo’s FTE is almost word for word how he starts with Kaede. This is how he introduces himself to people. This is him being confident and secure. Unlike Kaede though, Shuichi has no qualms in pointing out Keebo’s shortcomings instead of letting him chatter on like he does with Kaede. He spends a lot more time trying to show him new functions, apparently thinking he just needs to show one that’s a bit more ‘impressive’ to get a positive reaction. Like being asked questions, or at least a ‘oh that’s cool’ instead of ‘wait aren’t you weak’. But we’ll gloss over the the tragedy in trial production AGAIN. To the point he takes Shuichi’s baffled silence as a more positive reaction than of the others he got, seeing as he seems to think the detective is impressed...even though we know he’s not. It’s true most people don’t have twenty tools always on hand and a music player that can take tapes and records on them at all times but...it’s easy to dismiss as not that interesting. Even though he’s desperately fishing for validation here. The nicest answer we can get out of Shuichi here...is clearly a lie, to be honest. (Keebo probably uses that music function a lot.)

Shuichi: Y-Yeah...amazing K1-B0: Right? I am Professor Idabashi's masterpiece, after all. The professor's technology has given me the functions to support a life of comfort. Shuichi: A life of comfort... I see. That makes sense. K1-B0: However...My greatest attribute is actually not a function at all.

He takes it as a honest statement and instantly brings up how great his creator is. Keebo...cares about Professor Idabashi a lot. He is bragging, about himself...but everything he is is something his ‘father’ made. Or at least that’s what he thinks anyway...He wants people to know how great his dad is. and that’s sadly sweet. (Since he probably doesn’t exist. or care about him if he was made for this...) The part where he supports of a life of comfort is interesting though. Are you built to bring comfort to the professor, or mostly yourself Keebs? It could be both. It’s nice to think Keebo’s father figure would want him to be able to live comfortably...be able to stand on his own two feet as it were. He might not have a use for many of the functions, but he’s clearly thinks they’re valuable

Shuichi: That's actually pretty normal. K1-B0: Gh—! Wh-What do you mean, "normal"!? What do you know about robots!? The meaning of "normal" is purely subjective anyway! Don't assume your definition of normal is the same as mine! Shuichi: Oh no, he's really mad! K1-B0: F-Furthermore...! My greatest attribute is actually not a function at all.

ahahahaWHOOPS. Good job Shuichi, you genuinely upset him. Because you said his ‘father’s’ work is ‘normal’. Without the context of the ‘nicer’ reply, this can seem really out of left field! Keebo is usually all about being ‘normal’ and fitting in ‘like everyone else’ but here he goes basically spitting fire at Shuichi for it. What do you know about robots indeed Keebo...But hey, we get some of that impulsive side here, getting overwhelmed and just spitting out what he thinks right away. This is WAY more fight than we usually see him give Kokichi, and that guy’s mocking him all the time. probably because he hopes Shuichi is a better/nicer person than him but still. In contrast...

Shuichi: Ah...is that it? K1-B0: Is that it...? You mean, you're not impressed? Shuichi: Well, I assumed you would have more...special...functions. K1-B0: ...W-Well, you know...I *might* have a special function of sorts... Shuichi: ...Might? K1-B0: But Professor Idabashi told me to keep it a secret. I hope you get the chance to see it someday. And besides... My greatest attribute is actually not a function at all.

He just takes it when Shuichi is unimpressed. Clearly Shuichi not being impressed with him is a shortcoming on his part, not the Professor, or his work. Being told he’s lame or disappointing is something we’ve seen a lot of...and apparently that doesn’t trigger his get mad buttons. Think he’s...kinda used to it by chapter 2. Though Keebo will still try and fish for later attention by suggesting he does have a ‘special’ function he’s been told to keep a secret. (Though...what Keebo things is special might not rate such praise from others)

Shuichi: It isn't? K1-B0: You can't tell what it is? It's my compact, lightweight design that makes my various functions possible! This is what truly drives Professor Idabashi's technological revolution! Well? Now do you understand just how amazing I am? Shuichi: I don't know how to respond to his boasting...Maybe someone like Miu would really appreciate his mechanics. Shuichi understandably is ‘ you’re like slightly less heavy than Gonta and he’s way bigger than you Keebo wtf do you mean’. This makes far more sense when you know KEEBO CAN FLY. He’s lightweight enough for that That is incredible. Too bad Keebo doesn’t actually like flying, according to him. Though really, being light enough to travel around where humans can fairly easily when he’s made is metal and carrying quite a bit of hardware is similarly impressive, even if Shuichi doesn’t really see it. He does correctly get that Miu would probably be impressed though! sorry keebo your attempts to look self assured have failed yet again. (As I wonder if Keebo feels he can be above or below humans, but not equal considering how little success he has and how his final FTE finishes but mhm we’ll get there.) Keebo is ones already grabbed by Gonta by the time Shuichi gets dragged in.

Korekiyo: The same is true of the rest of us. We were all seized by Gonta...and brought here. Tenko: But Shuichi's the only one who got knocked out. K1-B0: Gonta apologized for that. Apparently he couldn't slow down in time when he tried to grab you. Shuichi: What is this anyway...? Why did Gonta do this?

Gotta let Shuichi know that Gonta is sorry. Gonta is probably one of the nicer ones to him in general, so it’s not a big surprise that he’s already forgiving the guy for dragging him here, and hoping Shuichi doesn’t blame him either. Since we know who’s to blame....

K1-B0: I do not think Gonta would ever decide on his own to capture us. What is Kokichi trying to accomplish by taking advantage of Gonta's naivete? Regardless, I cannot forgive his nonchalant attitude about using people!

...haha keebo’s being nonchalantly used by tons of people...Anyway he doesn’t blame Gonta for this at all, understandably and is already going ‘what is that little gremlin up to?' He’s been concerned about this exact thing for days but wasn’t able to do anything about it. He even clarifies that even if there was a ‘good’ reason, he cannot stand for Kokichi just using Gonta like this...but unfortunately won’t be able to prevent it the second time either.

Kokichi: Isn’t it great!? Only an evil supreme leader like me could do something so...eeeeeevil! K1-B0: Kokichi...why are you doing this? Kokichi: Oh, I thought we could throw ourselves a little screening party with all our videos. With all you here, exchanging our motive videos wouldn't be that difficult at all...And I wanna see your videos, too, so I figured we could all binge-watch them together! K1-B0: D-Do you know what will happen if you do that? Kokichi: Ummm... Everyone will know their motive and a killing will be more likely to happen? But I like playing on Mean difficulty. Also, I don't run from battles in RPGs, either! I wanna win this killing game! So I'm not gonna run from it, I'm gonna crush it! That’ll be waaaay less boring, don’tcha think?

protag and rival square off. Or more Kokichi monologues his evil plan. Keebo’s the one to confront him about it first...and oh look, Danganronpa reference in regards to difficultly level. I wonder if he suspects he’s talking to a camera already. After all, he decides the gathered group is ‘enough’ for the little viewing party even though Gonta couldn’t get everyone. Five missing people is quite a few.

K1-B0: It seems I must be the one to take care of this. With my talent, Kokichi, I will stop- Kokichi: Yeah, yeah. I don't have time to listen to some robot. Let's see...it's exactly 9 pm. right now. I should be back by nighttime. Welp! Have fun with the bugs till then!

sorry keebo you don’t get to have monologues. He just listed to yours Kokichi, get back here and listen to the whole thing. It is good to see Keebo taking initiative though! Even if...people are not going to be all that impressed even though it works.

Tenko: M-My Neo-Aikido is no match for Gonta's superhuman strength either... K1-B0: ...We still have a chance when Kokichi comes back. That’s when I will take care of this. Everyone, please just endure it until then. Shuichi: E-Endure it—

Hey remember how all the cameras in the game are apparently magically tiny bug bears? So feasibly all CGs could just be shots from them? How are there bugs on the edges on such a tiny camera? ...Well we have a bigger camera at this scene, don’t we! keebo’s totally buried by bugs like himiko is ohno. Keebo might not be able to get bitten, but he’s not having a good time at the insect meet and greet either. He doesn’t talk during it, and his post dialogue doesn’t mention his own feelings. I imagine bugs crawling inside him would be unpleasant though :v Hopefully that didn’t happen. All those armored plates have edges for things to get at though...hm.

K1-B0: ...Thank you for enduring it, everyone. This is the last chance. Please leave the rest to me.

He is gonna help! do your best you funky little robot. Though if anyone had stopped Kokichi from leaving or made him have to listen to the speech Keebo could have done this an hour ago. This is why you back up your robot buddy, kids.

Kokichi: Oh, don't worry about it, Gonta. Just keep watch so these guys don't— K1-B0: That’s it! I won’t let you do as you please! Kokichi: Hm? K1-B0: I didn't want to use this unless I absolutely had to. It eats up a lot of my electricity. But that’s neither here nor there! I will stop you right here, right now! Shuichi: Keebo...what are you going to do...? K1-B0: ... Shuichi: Still glaring at Kokichi, Keebo slowly reach a hand behind his ear...and spun the mechanical parts there. Tsumugi: He's lighting up!? Is he gonna self-destruct or— *whirrr...* Tenko: Huh? What's that sound? K1-B0: One moment please... I'm rewinding the tape right now. Himiko: The tape?

Shuichi: Keebo shouted out and pushed his palm against his ear That's when... ‘Is this your doing, Kokichi? Did you have Gonta kidnap us?’ Was that...my voice? ‘Nee-heehee...he's so simple-minded. As soon as I told him that everyone who hates bugs was trying to get rid of them......he started crying, and said that he would get you guys to love bugs...or something like that.’ Could this be...? K1-B0: So, what do you think!? You just saw my audio recording function for the first time! Tenko: Did he really just whip out an audio recorder like it’s some kinda secret weapon!? Tsumugi: Really? It’s a cassette tape? In this day and age? K1-B0: But it’s metal tape, you know!? Tsumugi: The sound quality isn't the issue! K1-B0: L-Let's just put this aside now. More importantly, it seems to have worked.

Over the top and flashy for...recording audio with very good quality. No wonder it uses so much electricity if he needs to light up to get it to work. Or he was just trying to show off since he’s personally getting back at Kokichi for this actions here...or at least making sure he’ll see some consequences. Not that it matters, he just gets made fun of anyway...even if he tries to defend the tape being metal as a way to seem less unimpressive.

K1-B0: We must run while we still can! Tenko: Wait! We need to take back our Kubs Pads first! Shuichi: Tenko snatched the Kubs Pads from Kokichi. Kokichi: Awwww... Shuichi: Then, we all ran out of the lab. After leaving the room, I could still hear the muffled buzzing and Kokichi screaming.

yup keebo leads the fleeing out and totally leaves him there to his fate. With audible screams. He might be nice but he’s got limits. and apparently being locked in a room for like two hours being swarmed with bugs is one of those limits! Though I think he’s still more bothered by the ‘using Gonta’ bit. After they get out Monodam takes the pads to return them...

Tsumugi: But out of all of them, we can probably trust that one, right? K1-B0: Shall we go back to our dorms? It is well past nighttime. Angie: Nyahahaha, that's true! We have the magic show tomorrow.

of course you’d think that Tsumugi. We trust the robotic one that kills it’s siblings. Though they are the ‘friendliest’ cub...it just makes me think of another robot who gets determined to kill all their friends for the greater good hm. Keebo just thinks all his human friends should get some sleep, but he’s probably wanting to go charge if that light show just gobbled a chunk of his battery. It must be one hell of a drain if he can go a week normally without worry... Which he somewhat confirms in the morning.

Shuichi: Ah, Keebo. Good morning. K1-B0: Good morning, Shuichi How are you feeling today? Are you still sore from the events of last night? Shuichi: Ah, I'm fine. Are *you* alright? K1-B0: Yes, I’m fine. I’ve recharged the electricity that I used on my recording function. Even so...I'm very happy that I was finally able to use my functions to help everyone! Shuichi: Keebo's recording function... It's not exactly revolutionary technology, but it did help a lot. Yes, thank you, Keebo. You really earned your title of Ultimate Robot. K1-B0: Oh, it was nothing, really. If you ever need my help for anything, please don't hesitate to ask. Shuichi: Ahaha... Yeah, I sure will. K1-B0: So...the magic show is starting soon, yes? Everyone has probably gathered in the gym already. We should get going as well.

Shuichi actually asks if Keebo’s alright! Actual concern instead of more dunking! Keebo asking if Shuichi is okay is not as much of a surprise, but it’s nice to see he admits he’s happy that he was able to be helpful. He wants to be useful. Goes and downplays how he helped in order to keep stressing how ‘please ask me if you need help I WANT TO HELP’ :v Then he’s off to go to the Magic show, which he probably isn’t super interested in but Everyone Should Be There, so he’s gonna go. Also, we learn from Angie that Keebo and Kaito were the designated equipment carriers from Himiko’s lab. I guess it wasn’t too heavy, or Kaito might have been doing the brunt of the lifting. Also, when you talk to Angie before the show...

Angie: Tenko, you’re trembling. I've told you many times that Atua loves all His creations. Tenko: What do you mean, all his creations!? That's way too much love! What about Monokuma, huh? Does Atua love him, too? Angie: Of course. So we must love Monokuma, so that our love will reach him. Tenko: Shaddup already! Robots can't feel love! They can't feel any emotions at all! K1-B0: And yet...I felt a strange pain in my chest after you just said that...

y u gotta do this Tenko, he’s RIGHT HERE. or at least apologize! But no, we’re just gonna let Keebo know his emotions he’s feeling aren’t real I guess. You two were getting on okay, so of course he’s upset...but this does also set up a little more that Keebo’s heard Angie say Atua accepts robots twice now.

K1-B0: This is quite a professional-looking set. However, considering how unsettled Himiko is...We might not get to witness for ourselves the skill of the Ultimate Magician. How unfortunate.

Well, he’s impressed by the work his friends did! And seems like he’s at least semi-interested in seeing Himiko’s talent in action, even if he knows it’s trickery, not magic. He’s always ready to be a supportive sort of friend and praise their efforts. not that he gets it back all that much. He does get caught up in the tension of the show and seems to worry a bit after Gonta runs up to the stage.

K1-B0: Um...Less than ten seconds remain...

Notably, he’s also one of the ones who looks to be mid movement after this line...(there’s a lot of CGs for this part, huh)

K1-B0: Look! The piranhas! Tenko: H-Hurry! The curtains! Open the curtains already!

Then Ryoma is shown to be very very dead. Due to how everyone who wasn’t at the show rushes in, there aren't as many reactions before...well.

Kokichi: Yeah, break it. It’ll take too long to drain it by hand. Shuichi: But what would we even use to break— Kokichi: Gonta! Kee-boy! You’re up! K1-B0: Huh? What do you mean, we're up? Kokichi: Gonta, throw Kee-boy as hard as you can! Use that robot like a battering ram! K1-B0: Who are you calling a battering ram!? Gonta: Gonta throw Keebo! Got it! Tenko: Then, I’ll help too! K1-B0: N-Now wait just a second. You don't need to team up now—

K1-B0: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!

robot gets yeeted despite protests because guy no one likes says to. Why are all you guys so mean to this poor robot. You could have seriously hurt him! Good thing he’s waterproof, but he still got treated as a thing and probably got nasty blood water all over him >> Does anyone even say ‘sorry’? Or even thank you? NO. being keebo is suffering, like it’s pretty funny but MAN these kids are jerks to him.

K1-B0: I’ve...gathered Ryoma’s body and belongings...in one place... Shuichi: Keebo looks depressed... He *was* just used as a battering ram, so I understand why.

maybe apologize for what happened? or tell Kokichi off, or Gonta for listening and Tenko for just going along with it? no? ok sure we’ll just leave him staring listlessly after carrying the remains of his friend while soaked in his blood, why not. after all he doesn’t have feelings, apparently.

Korekiyo: In any event...let us begin the investigation. K1-B0: Investigation... So it's really going to start again. Tsumugi: I can't believe it... One of us killed Ryoma...

yes you can tsumugi. Why are you always talking near keebs this chapter. Unsurprisingly, Keebo still doesn’t really like the idea of a class trial and what it means, but I suppose it gives him something to think about that isn’t how he has zero respect around here. Anyway, Maki says ‘nope, i’m out’

Miu: The fuck is that bitch's problem!? She's seriously not gonna investigate!? K1-B0: That seems...rather irresponsible. Korekiyo: She likely assumes someone else will take care of it...and I suppose she isn't wrong.

Considering you all die if you’re wrong, irresponsible is certainly a word that works. He doesn’t do name calling or anything though, just points out the behavour. She’s busy trying to hide she’s an assassin, but it isn’t like the rest of the kids have too much time to worry about that. Keebo is probably a bit more shaken than he lets on though, he doesn’t confront or talk to Kokichi at all while he’s busy accusing Himiko, and usually he does!

Kirumi: To solve this mystery, we must first learn the trick behind Himiko’s Underwater Escape Act... K1-B0: We have no choice in the matter. Shuichi: He’s right...we have no choice. We have no choice but to find the culprit who killed Ryoma. This investigation is to save all of our lives...because we’re risking our lives in the class trial!

Behold as Kirumi tries to send both protags on a pointless wild goose chase! The underwater trick and how it works turns out to be completely irrelevant! Which of course, Kirumi knows and is banking on. :v She’s sneaky. Anyway, Kaito is Shuichi’s partner for this case...

K1-B0: Although there are many unknown variables, the first thing we need to make clear is...when was Ryoma murdered? Kaito: Well, in the middle of the show, obviously. The culprit knew how Himiko's trick worked and took advantage of it to kill Ryoma. In other words, everyone watching the show isn't suspicious. K1-B0: ...Kaito, you didn’t attend the show either, did you? Kaito: N-No, but I'm still not suspicious. I forgot a promise...so I was just eating breakfast. You got it!? I’m not suspicious! K1-B0: I do not understand how that explanation is supposed to convince me. Shuichi: Keebo does have a point...

Robot is right, ‘when’ the murder happened is one of the most important details of the case. So thankfully, he didn’t just immediately try and follow Kirumi’s ill motivated advice. Apparently if Kaito gets questioned by Keebo his brain just goes into shock. Kaito isn’t dumb but he has this weird habit of getting flustered with Keebo’s blunt questions. Maybe because he’s figured out Keebs wants some reasonable explanations! and he doesn’t really have one and just...tries to justify himself in a way Keebs is not impressed with at all. He doesn’t provide any other information, but that’s not a big shock. Considering he was both at the show and the meet and greet and had to recharge, he didn’t really have a chance to see anything of use for this case. this will be a trend.

Shuichi: The fragments of the broken glass water tank have been piled up. There are so many tiny pieces...Gonta and Tenko certainly didn't hold back when they threw Keebo at the glass.

More proof of robot abuse. but really Keebo doesn’t come up much in this investigation. Kirumi actually shows up a second time to distract Shuichi by giving the ‘clue’ that Gonta was the last to see Maki at 8PM. She really had plans to not get caught. We have no need to hear from our robot friend again until pre-trial time.

K1-B0: ...Is everyone ready? Gonta: Not like we have choice, right? Korekiyo: Kehehe... You are quick to understand. It's as though Monokuma has you trained.

Has all of you trained, Kiyo. But Keebo’s doing his protag job in asking the obvious question to prompt responses :v

K1-B0: I did not calculate that we would gather here under these circumstances again...What would Kaede say if she saw us right now...?

I suppose it is also your job to hope. Though it is a little sad that he’s worried about letting Kaede down. Most of the others are more concerned about the trial and the case surrounding it at the moment, but this is what he’s stuck on. Shame and disbelief. this robot understands empathy very well, okay. Class trial time :v

Kirumi: But it does point to Himiko being the most suspicious. K1-B0: Ryoma died during Himiko's magic show. Korekiyo: His body appearing in the water tank leads one to think the escape trick played a part. It’s only natural we suspect Himiko. She was the one performing the trick.

oh look who’s the first person to agree Himiko is suspect after Kokichi/Angie point to her. Keebo is just outright wrong here! This is why he is not the detective :v Somewhere along the way he’s decided ‘during the show’ was the time of death, whoops. This is also a bit weird becauseeee after the nonstop debate about the cause of death...

Angie: Ryoma drowned, Himiko changed places with him, and then the piranhas ate him. Right? K1-B0: No, Himiko only had 60 seconds to escape from the tank...Even if they changed places at the start of the show, that's insufficient time to drown someone. Kirumi: If that is the case, then when did he drown?

watch out the robot knows how long it takes to drown a man. But this is why his other comment is weird...he knows Ryoma couldn’t have drowned during the show? I suppose he didn’t know the cause of death...but it’s in the monofile...throwaway line you aren't meant to think about too hard but dang it

Korekiyo: Yes... By that point, he had already joined the ranks of the dead. K1-B0: Could that mean his body was hidden until the culprit made it appear in the tank? Gonta: Hidden...where? Kirumi: The culprit would have had to hide the body near the tank, and then show it during the act.

He gets back on the right track after Shuichi points out Ryoma had to die before the show. I super didn’t notice this the first time I played, but Kirumi is always here to make the correct idea seem unlikely and try and steer conversation away from it! and of course kokichi helps her derail it back to explaining the trick.

K1-B0: How did Himiko escape the water tank? Angie: Maybe she just climbed out and no one noticed.

So Keebo kicks off the non-stop debate about the water tank :v Because asking a question is his favourite thing to do, and he just tried suggesting the body could be hidden, so he’s filled his doing things quota.

Shuichi: The staircase also has an escape hatch, one facing away from us. It’s placed so that the water would not drain from the staircase. K1-B0: In which case, a person could exit and leave water inside the staircase. Shuichi: However, that person would be soaked, meaning that *some* trace should be left...That would explain why there was a puddle around the stairs...

Rephrase for the audience and give Shuichi a gap before he has to launch into another explanation. He’s quick to pick up the logic, but he doesn’t really need to apply it since Shuichi usually does that part too :v

Shuichi: ...It's because she changed her uniform. K1-B0: The dormitory is stocked with uniforms. Did you hide one behind the stage in advance? Himiko: Nyeh... Nyeeeh! Angie: I remember seeing Himiko go to the gym this morning, carrying a uniform and a towel.

He does get to do it here though! V3 is nice in letting the other characters also confirm things without Shuichi’s handholding, but he will still be doing the bulk of it, obviously :v keebs can be smart.

Miu: So Himiko went in the stairs with the body!? What kinda kinky shit is she into!? K1-B0: That seems unlikely. There isn't enough space for two people to fit in there. Tsumugi: Yeah, the stairs are pretty cramped. It'd be hard to fit even Ryoma and Himiko in there.

Keebo makes a point, Tsumugi takes the chance to reiterate it to be ‘helping’ by doing very little :v Angie argues for a switcheroo which leads to the next debate, Shuichi refutes it, leading to

Korekiyo: She had no need to worry about us witnessing her at that point. For the entire stage was hidden behind a curtain. To all but Gonta, anyway. K1-B0: Then the culprit never would have considered hiding inside the staircase with the body.Entering the staircase *after* moving the body is much faster, and seems more rational too! Tsumugi: Then...Ryoma’s body wasn’t hidden in the stairs?

He’s back again to confirm his earlier point was correct! With extra logic on his side thanks to Gonta going where he wasn’t meant to. and yes mugi that is what he just said please pay attention. He’ll keep defending it too, such as in the debate afterwards.

Tsumugi: It wasn't really in the stairs, was it? K1-B0: After all, there was only enough space for Himiko.

Shuichi’s busy agreeing with Korikiyo here since he actually goes into what another option might be other than reiterating it’s not the stairs. Trial goes on, Miu correctly accuses Kirumi but of course, it’s too early and baseless so we need to argue with her.

Gonta: I-Is too soon to tell. We should hear what everyone has to say, right? Miu: Fuck that noise! K1-B0: But, Miu, you don't have an alibi for when the crime occurred either, do you? Miu: Y-You think I’m suspicious? I...don’t even know where the gym is.

oh Miu. Robot is always glad to point out relatively simple contradictions like this and get people flustered. Not one to accuse though, since he might simply not know something...

Tenko: Anyway, among those four, the culprit must be the one who doesn't have an alibi! K1-B0: ...I apologize but given the circumstances, we have no choice but to suspect you. Tenko: Suspect who!? Who’s the culprit!?

Even though he says sorry, this triggers a mass panic debate :v Though it’s the logical thing to do, he can occasionally figure out putting people on the spot for murder can be uncomfortable and apologize for it. This is a friendly robot who is way nicer than most people are to him gdi. Miu, Kaito and Kirumi squabble it out. Keebs ends up being in TWO conversations :v

Miu: I have an alibi! K1-B0: What is your alibi? Miu: When I was running from Gonta...Things got a little...heated if ya catch my drift.

He caught it, and apparently had no interest in following up, as that segment switches to Angie asking after Maki’s alibi. Keebo decides to poke at Kirumi’s alibi instead. which is the weak point for this debate. All business today it seems!

Kirumi: That was five minutes before 9:00 p.m. K1-B0: Did you really leave the gym at 9:00 p.m.? Are you sure you did not stay at the gym?

Of course the bullet that breaks it is Kokichi’s account. Because Kokichi and Keebo get on like a house on fire :v which of course means it’s time for the two to squabble again.

Kirumi: This information could have been told to us beforehand. Kokichi: Sorry! Forgot! I definitely didn’t keep it a secret to make the trial more interesting! K1-B0: Forgot...? It seems far more plausible that you were telling another lie. Kokichi: Unlike robots, we meatbags can't pull out our memories from our hard drive. K1-B0: Was that supposed to offend me? Your irrationality fills me with pity...

Of course, the alibi ends up being worthless since the time of the crime isn’t what the kids think it is. (Later it’ll damn Kirumi but right now? not so much.) It makes Kirumi look like less of a suspect so it’s actively harmful, whoops :v So were you ‘forgetting’ because it won’t help solve the case yet...or just having fun. Either way, Keebo shows that he really needs to install a sarcasm detector, that was REALLY blatant. But sassy robot returns, he goes from angry to eye rolling once he realizes it’s more of a backhanded complement than an insult. ‘Why yes my memory IS better than yours, annoying purple meatbag’. Too bad it ultimately leads to Kirumi being off the hook so Kokichi can get his ‘make Maki and Kaito fightfightfight’ game on but I like this interaction. He gets to feel proud of himself a little :v He keeps this attitude for a bit, considering...

K1-B0: Most of that was unintelligible nonsense, but it would seem that Miu has an actual alibi. Kokichi: Yup. It took a while, but at least we got everyone's alibis cleared up...We should remember all of this, in case we need to recall these events again.

oh no they’re AGREEING. someone check hell it’s probably freezing over. But lookit that swipe at Miu. They really don’t start off on the right foot at all! We get the everyone’s alibi bullet which still ultimately means nothing(for now)...and Kokichi gets the fight ball rolling with a...surprising assist from Keebo?

Kokichi: If one of them is the culprit, then the innocent one should know who the guilty one is. Yeah? Because if you know you're not the culprit, then you can just accuse the other person. K1-B0: Yes, that is true. Kokichi: Which means, there is one person among us who definitely knows who the culprit is! To that someone who knows... Do your best to convince us! Work harder!

He’s still eye rolling here, but offers his agreement. which yes, it is true...if either of the accused is the culprit. Which they aren’t. Keebo doesn’t know this, obviously but it’s still weird to see them ‘working together’, but this happens more often the further we go. Mostly because Keebo will follow anything with a solid/logical backing. Kokichi might be a liar, but he generally has a solid bit of evidence or logic to springboard off of. (even when taking us in the WRONG DIRECTION. if you wanted to pressure maki we could have done this in a way easier way you little gremlin). So really, these two will team up more often than Keebo would with say...Kaito, who prompts his next line.

Kaito: Hmph... You don't get it. This isn't just any hunch...This is an official hunch from *the* Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars! Tsumugi: Wh-What...? K1-B0: How illogical... This is even more difficult to comprehend than Kokichi's antics. Kokichi: You're totally not serious! You can't be *that* stupid, right?

Yup. Kaito is more confusing than Kokichi. Kaito is basing Maki’s innocence on nothing but what he feels, which people can sort of get. We all have ‘hunches’, the backs of our brains picking up on little things that we might not actively be paying attention to, and he’s got a lot of belief and trust to give. We can get it, some people you just want to trust! Keebo doesn’t get it. Error, no input found, please give me a provable, actual reason for that hunch. I kind of think he doesn’t even get hunches himself. He can clearly worry, or have concern, but he might lack those sort of gut feelings on if you can trust something or not. After all, he can actively search through his own ‘brain’ and explain why he feels a certain way, he doesn’t need to just ‘have a feeling’. Kokichi following Keebo up here to slap an insult on an honest statement of ‘i have no goddamned idea what you’re on about’ is just expected :v

Kirumi: So...you do not have any evidence. K1-B0: Only baseless conjecture. Tenko: B-But...I totally get where he's coming from! Cuz I wanna believe in Himiko too!

Kaito’s inspiring speech broke zero ground in the ‘make the everyone understand’ attempt. Whoops. So Keebo’s backing up the murderer pointing out the lack of proof. As it is baseless conjecture. You need a fact, or at least a lie presented as fact to get him to understand what you’re driving at. This is honestly interesting, considering he’s ‘hope’ motivated later on. There’s nothing logical about a meaningless hope! So it feels less like him and more his...helpful voice telling him to ignore logic... Maki fesses up to say she saw Ryoma at nighttime

K1-B0: So Ryoma was still alive at nighttime!? Tenko: I thought the crime took place between 8 and 10 o'clock at night?

He’s not on board yet, but he’s listening! Even though if true, haha we spent all that time talking about stuff that doesn’t matter.

Miu: Quit fuckin' around! You think I'm dumb enough to swallow that line of crap!? Kirumi: Yes, this seems too convenient. K1-B0: But why did Maki wait until now to mention that? Kokichi: Ah-hahahaha! It’s totally obvious! Maki’s sooo desperate that she has to lie!

oh hi kirumi no big surprise you simply go ‘no it is garbage’. Keebo’s the one to offer a way out by asking why exactly she didn’t mention it until now, he’s not instantly saying it’s out of the question. Kokichi follows up to try and press that it’s a lie, answering his question. Which probably just tells him that he should keep listening, since Kokichi lies so much :v

Kirumi: Does this mean you an Ryoma recived one another’s motive video? Maki: Maybe... I actually didn't check the one I got, so I wouldn't know. K1-B0: Maki admitted earlier that she hadn't checked her Kubs Pad. Angie: Then why did Ryoma think that Maki had his motive video? Kaito: If he went around asking at random, he might've asked some people besides Maki. Miu: He never asked me! He probably never asked you guys either, right!? K1-B0: Then...who was it that told Ryoma about his Kubs Pad?

Flexing that good memory, and giving Maki a little backup. After all, Keebo’s an expert in what it feels like to get dismissed :v He them prompts Shuichi to Do His Thing in calling Kokichi out as the one who told Ryoma. (Though he doesn't actually get to make him answer before they get derailed again) Though even though he’s willing to listen and belive she possibly did see Ryoma...he’s still not too thrilled about Maki’s choice to keep it secret.

Korekiyo: *If* that story is true... Maki: ...It's true. K1-B0: Then why did you wait until now to bring that up? Maki: I didn’t say anything until now because I wasn’t in the mood to be suspected.

He’s pointing and everything. He’ll believe you but darn it explain. He wants to understandddd. But still, no name calling or excessive rudeness, because he is a good lad who doesn’t threaten or do such things. She explains not wanting to be suspected buuuut

Kaito: Well, whatever. Either way, let's just believe Maki. Angie: Yes, yes. Those who believe shall be saved. K1-B0: No, we need to wait. There is still more to confirm— Shuichi: Well then, why don’t we ask Kokichi?

couldn’t you wait for him to finish the goddamned sentence Shuichi. Still, Keebo’s not a hasty one, the second Kaito wants to just go ‘good enough’ robot is right back to WAIT NO THAT’S NOT LOGICAL. It does get Kokichi to properly admit he knows who had who’s pads though. More squabbling about believing Maki ensues...

Korekiyo: I find Maki's testimony suspicious. It's far too...convenient for her. K1-B0: This is...difficult to determine. Kokichi: Maki is lying! Like I said before, a liar like me knows their own kind!

Are you trying to convince Keebo, Kokichi? You keep reiterating your point right after he speaks. Keebo is basically admitting he’s completely undecided and not taking a stand either way, but he’s usually pretty wishy-washy...because having an opinion involves what he thinks. and he doesn’t like admitting what he’s thinking very much. Certainly not if he doesn’t have a fact to back him up. Shuichi lies in the following debate. keebo will basically always follow shuichi, he’s the ultimate detective. Though hearing everyone else agree/trust him first probably lets him consider it true more easily. (and kokichi just nudging shuichi he saw that lie but not doing anything about it...)

Himiko: So we're right back where we started... What a pain. K1-B0: However, it should be clear now that the crime occurred after nighttime began. Kirumi: But then when was Ryoma's body placed inside the piranha tank?

Maki’s testimony + Kokichi’s admitting of telling Ryoma Maki had his kubspad + Shuichi’s lie about overhearing= enough to set this as ‘the truth’ for Keebo. It is true, but here comes Kirumi to instantly derail them to the wrong detail first. When doesn’t really matter right now!

Miu: So did we fuck up by thinkin’ the body got stuffed into the piranha tank? K1-B0: I don't think so. We have evidence to prove that's what happened. Tenko: Then when did the culprit throw the body into the piranha tank?

There is evidence, and even then he’s saying ‘think’. he’s so hesitant to speak in absolutes right now. As he might be wrong :v The whole Maki debacle was confusing for him. But now Tenko is repeating the question Kirumi posed and we go on a merry goose chase and have a scrum debate about it. Keebo’s on Shuichi’s side again. (He always will be, with one exception.) He doesn’t actually have a line though! He just gets to shout THIS IS OUR ANSWER with everyone.

K1-B0: That means it was certainly possible to put the body in the piranha tank from the window... Shuichi: However, I’m also positive the pane dividing the piranha tank was set up beforehand. Korekiyo: That certainly couldn't be tossed in. It would need to be placed carefully. Kirumi: Even if the culprit were to throw the body from outside the window...The window is far too high. It cannot be reached from the floor.

protag explaining tag team. Shuichi speaks more confidently in trials, saying things like ‘he’s confident’ while Keebo is hovering around with ‘possible’. You think our detective is an anxious mess half the time? so’s the robot :v oh and Kirumi is once again pointing out ‘problems’ to try and get the line of thought dropped. It works, considering we start going on about the ladder and whatnot and slam headlong into a logic wall until Maki says ‘okay no, time to talk about Where Die, not how get in fish tank’. You knew too Kokichi don’t you ‘ Why didn't anyone realize this yet?’ me :v

Shuichi: That’s important to remember...it’s not as if everyone here *wants* us to find the truth. One of us is trying to sabotage this trial... K1-B0: Well then, let's discuss the crime scene to figure out who the culprit is. Himiko: That's not a bad idea for a robot. The last time I heard such a good idea was......when Nino told me to move in with her under the bridge to get out of the cold. Tenko: Himikawa Under the Bridge!?

it’s a Arakawa Under the Bridge reference :v Honestly there’s tons of references in the game in general and we can totally blame Tsumugi for them. Keebs is glad to be the one to agree to a new topic though. Then he doesn’t have to state an opinion and can just fish for everyone else’s thoughts! He doesn’t even react to the ‘for a robot’ crack at him. :c Though for good reason I suppose when no one takes you seriously and judges you on a dime. Next nonstop debate to establish the crime scene...

Angie: Wasn't it the dorm room? Ryoma was relaxing in his room when he got attacked. K1-B0: But the cause of death was drowning. There is nothing in his room that could collect enough water.

Refuting Angie’s idea with a pointless weak point. I DO think the white noise that goes across when Miu goes ‘S-S-Sow’ might be Keebo though. ‘This is difficult to watch’ does match his general speaking style, and probable opinion :v

Angie: Hmmm...How did those handcuffs get from the lab to the water tank? Maki: Because Ryoma was wearing them, right? K1-B0: Yes, though they were only visible for a brief moment when Ryoma appeared in the tank. I am certain he was wearing the handcuffs at the time. Kirumi: The handcuffs were left after the piranhas devoured Ryoma

He did it, he said he was certain about something! Good job. Considering perfect memory and the horror that was that moment it was probably very easy to recall. oh dear keebo has perfect memories of all his friends corpses. that can’t be fun. oh and the fun of being THROWN AT THE REMAINS. Kirumi ‘helps’ with the easy logic of handcuffs didn’t get eaten. :v Now we’re working with the angle of body movement now that we know it came from Ryoma’s ultimate lab. Tenko suggests just tossing the body from the pool area...

Kirumi: Your explanation contradicts some things we discussed earlier. The gym window was too high to reach from the pool side, even if one used the ladder. Tenko: That’s right! I apologize! I must go on a journey to reflect on this! K1-B0: We keep hitting dead ends, since we don't know how the body was thrown into the gym... Kokichi: Nee-heehee... Well, that didn't really give us any info about the crime.

So of course the murderer tries to make it sound impossible, since we’re getting a bit too close to the truth! Keebo’s frustrated at this point, he’s eye rolling again with no leads to how it was actually done. He hasn’t considered the new approaches that could be possible now that they know where everything started. Kokichi ‘agreeing’ with him should be a tip off though :v shuichi goes and drives a brain taxi and raises the rope possibility.

Kirumi: Is the rope long enough to reach both windows? Korekiyo: The rope is roughly 65 feet in length. As for the distance between the windows... K1-B0: According to the sign at the pool, the width of the pool is roughly 35 feet...and the distance from the edges of the pool to the windows is an additional 16 feet. Altogether, the sum total length from one window to the other is roughly 50 feet. Gonta: And pool is only thing between research lab and gym windows... Miu: You bet it’s long enough! Heh! That’s what she said!

Chatty when he can do something easy like math! Numbers make sense and don’t confuse him with believing and who is working against them. Miu does basically sum up what Keebo took a paragraph to say tho. Since he needs to show his work. he likes having proof, and assumes everyone else likes knowing how he got the answer too. oh and reminder gonta is still plenty smart, he points out how to do the rope trick here. Then we talk about the zipline-i mean ropeway.

Korekiyo: You say the culprit placed their foot on the windowsill? Isn't that against school rules? It would count as entering the gym, would it not? Monosuke: Last time we got asked that question, we decided it was okay. Stickin' your body through the window is an automatic out, but standing on the sill is— K1-B0: Wait, who asked you last time? Monosuke: ...Eh? K1-B0: It is quite possible that the culprit went to you to confirm the details of their plan... Monosuke: ... ...O-Oh shiiiiit!

He does know how to press on something suspicious! Not too surprising he’s the one to confront a Kub, he even cut him off to do this. Keebo seems to put more stock in what the Monokubs say or do at any given time anyway. Of course, he won’t answer, but it isn’t really necessary. Just confirming someone asked was enough, which that freakout accomplished. Kirumi tries to sidetrack again with the ‘multiple trips’ thing...

Korekiyo: Which is why the crime was committed during nighttime, while we all slumbered. K1-B0: But if the culprit was so careful to recover the rope they used to commit the crime...Why did they leave the inner tube in the pool? Shuichi: I believe that was an accident.

He really, really loves questioning things. This part doesn’t make sense, better ask about it, and hurrah, my detective has an answer ready to go. He might not contribute much himself, but he does provide setup :v Shuichi announces Kirumi as his top suspect...

Korekiyo: That is not yet a certainty. Let us hear her testimony first. K1-B0: Is this true, Kirumi? Kirumi: I cannot believe you would suspect me...If that is the case, then I will have to deny it. I will not let you make the wrong choice.

question.exe is always running. i swear. Still, never just taking it right away, he wants to hear an answer. Snap judgements are not his thing. Even if he does lean towards believing Shuichi. because he has secret protag sensing powers. Trial 2 is such a change from one with how hard Kirumi fights here. since kaede did not want to kill everyone :v Keebs says quiet until he’s heard enough proof to throw his support behind Shuichi again

Shuichi: Just tying the rope to the frame wouldn't cause so much damage. The rope that was tied to the frames must have been weighed down significantly. The frames didn't break, but they were left with distinct marks. K1-B0: Those scratches are proof that you used a rope to carry the body to the windowsill. Kirumi: ... Kokichi: Oh? What’s wrong, Kirumi? What’s wrong, what’s wrong!? Hey, what’s wrong? Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!?

Pictured: two very different confrontation styles. I suppose it makes sense Keebo would be knowledgeable about scratches on metal :v He’ll just state some proof that goes with Shuichi’s statement, while Kokichi attempts to annoy her into submission instead. Shuichi brings up the black fabric/the ‘everyone’ thing and Kirumi slips.

Kirumi: Y-Yeah, so what? You’re still wrong! Your logic is flawed!!! K1-B0: Kirumi...why are you becoming increasingly erratic? Korekiyo: Kehehe... There is such absolute beauty in trying to fight against the truth.

:c He’s confused again. Yelling out questioning perfectly good logic is strange for her, emotionally charged, and he hasn’t really figured out guilt and panic makes people act out strangely. He knows the feelings exist, but not the full extent they can go to. and really it can’t be fun to watch someone so collected start falling apart because they murdered another one of your friends and is going to die for it...

Shuichi: The extra uniforms in our rooms are made of the same material we're wearing now. We can test my theory by comparing the fabric scrap with your glove. Kirumi: Gh...grgh... K1-B0: ...Well, Kirumi? Will you allow us to compare the black fabric we found in the pool with your gloves? Kirumi: U-Uhhh...!

‘will you allow us to damn you’. Keebo, you sound like you’re mocking her if you ask now. but he probably doesn’t quite realize that. comic, kirumi spite votes shuichi...

Tenko: Th-There’s nothing good about this at all...! *sob, sniffle...* Wh-why did it have to be Kirumi...? K1-B0: Truly, this result was unexpected. Tsumugi: How can you be so calm about it...?

This time, the culprit actively tried to get away with it. He might not really know how to feel about the whole thing. Kaede was apologizing, while Kirumi was fighting the whole way (and will keep doing so). He probably would have said this about anyone though...suspecting friends isn’t something he likes to do. and you made him this way moogie shush.

Tsumugi: You mean like from the motive video? So Kirumi watched hers after all? K1-B0: Earlier, Kirumi mentioned that she had accepted a request...Perhaps that request came from a someone important in her motive video? Kirumi: ... Maki: ...Do you have nothing to say for yourself?

Going to ask more questions to try and understand, as per usual. Kirumi does use this as a chance to try and get away again mhm. Keebo isn’t using any of his distressed sprites here either. He might be coming off as a bit heartless at the moment, poking at ‘why did you kill’ and not even looking shaken. so guess who mentions that after Kirumi drops the ‘prime minister’ bit.

Kokichi: I don't think it's odd that an Ultimate-level talent could be *that* powerful. I mean, Kee-boy’s talent lets him pretend to be human, even though he’s a heartless robot. K1-B0: How rude! I am not pretending! I am still learning! Tsumugi: U-Uh...I see. Well...good luck, I guess.

Yes, this gets the biggest reaction out of him. That’s normal and easy to understand over ‘how do we feel about this.’ While Tsumugi mocks his attempts to learn because she’s terrible :v and Kokichi is almost another backhanded complement? ‘Pretend to be human’, so you do buy his ‘pretending’ and how he seems very human? even though you keep calling him heartless and emotionless...and getting him thrown at things...

Monokuma: I am the ruler of this world. Nothing is beyond my power. Shuichi: Nothing is beyond your power? What kind of arrogant, ridiculous— K1-B0: That is 100% a lie! It is impossible that he could bring disaster to a country! Monokuma: Puhu... Puhuhuhu

Keebo feels the need to cut Shuichi off here! To back him up, but I wonder if his inner voice was telling him he had to deny that claim. He’s throwing out impossible and 100%, certainties...while Monokuma is mugging for the audience. as he basically is a god in their fake little world. It would explain how he’s changed his mind by the next line...

Tsumugi: Kirumi's got the lives of hundreds of millions of people on her shoulders, right? K1-B0: Logically, Kirumi’s survival would result in fewer casualties than our collective survival would. Himiko: Geez... Maybe it would've been better if we'd gotten the culprit wrong...

He seems to believe it now. Not enough to say anything definitive, but he will say it’s ‘logical’. even though you can’t really assume that. Who knows what the collective rest could do for people? No one :v

Kokichi: Do you really think someone as desperate to live as Kirumi would give up so easily? Of course not. In fact, she probably still hasn't given up, even now. She was hoping that learning the truth would make one of us volunteer to die in her place. K1-B0: ...What!? Kirumi: ... Kokichi: But Monokuma would never allow a blackened to escape punishment, so maybe......she wanted everyone to rebel, so she could use that as cover to escape on her own. ...How about it, Kirumi? Am I close?

This shakes him. Lying over something so important is almost unbelievable. After all, he couldn’t see why someone would lie on someone else’s behalf with their life on the line in trial one. Not really a shock he doesn't consider the opposite being possible too. Keebo doesn’t really...lie. Basically ever. The closest he ever gets is a flustered non answer that is technically a lie in a back route. He still cheers her on when she makes a break for it though.

K1-B0: Run! Please hurry!

He doesn’t really react to the death, he’s prompted to speak by Angie.

Angie: ...Oh? Isn't that what Atua said? All desire, even your desire to escape this place, can corrupt you beyond redemption. K1-B0: It's Monokuma who is corrupt. He is the one who distributed the motive videos. Korekiyo: Those videos were more dangerous than we thought. To have driven Kirumi that far...

He’d still rather blame the obvious antagonist over the people he calls friends. Clashing with Angie here doesn’t stop him from getting roped in later...hhm.

Shuichi: That must be why Kirumi did not want to show the videos. She thought that if everyone felt the same murderous rage that she did...this killing game would be pure chaos. She...wanted to stop it. Kokichi: If that's the case, then we really shouldn't show our videos to each other! K1-B0: That was our consensus from the beginning. Not including you, of course.

Shuichi gives a pretty kind interpretation of her actions, and Kokichi earns some robot sass for his actions. Kokichi likely had his own video and was not driven to any such murder...figured out his own plan might actually be bad too little too late.

K1-B0: For now...we should rest. To me, that seems the most rational course of action.

keebo wants to be morgana. GO TO BED. While you just...sit around awake all night long and think about what happened, I guess. Of course, we won’t do that because we have another reveal to do first.

Kokichi: Maki admitted it during the class trial, remember? Ryoma wanted her to show him his motive video cuz he was looking for a reason to live. But that wasn’t the whole story... Ryoma was blackmailing you, wasn’t he, Maki? K1-B0: B-Blackmail? Ryoma just so happened to discover Maki's true identity. So he used that to blackmail her. I bet he said something like... “If you don’t show me my motive video, I’ll tell everyone what you really are.” That's why Maki didn't want us to know she met with Ryoma. She wanted to keep her true identity a secret! That’s why she kept quiet until the last minute!

That’s the last thing he does, enables Kokichi by asking for clarification :v Hope you liked to see Keebo do things, as the ‘trio’ forms up he has fewer chances to show up. He’s still got a few in 3, but in 4 and 5 he’s fairly sidelined. Well he TALKS a lot, but mostly just his normal questions :v

hahaha this took way to long why am i like this. when am i going to cover his gifting dialouge. who knows. aaaaaaaaaaa. feel free to yell at me about the robitt. or any of the characters :v Chapter 3 will come sooner than I expect I assume...

#danganronpa #drv3 #kiibo #keebo #K1-B0 #longlong post #i mean it #all of chapter two!#kaito and keebo are ideologically opposed #he's much friendlier than kokichi but they don't really get eachother #but that'll show more as we go #hopefully you enjoy rambling #tumblr plz put my stuff in the tag next time lol

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crystalconjunx · 5 years

Note

bayverse optimus with kinktober prompt 19 ewe

19. Dirty Dancing + Closet Bang

Bayverse Optimus/Reader

The new mass displacement drives were incredibly effective tools that allowed for Optimus and the other autobots to shrink to far more manageable sizes. Now that Cade Yeager finally had his barn back and the humans were at relative peace with their presence, his ranch had become a base of sorts.

It was where you and Optimus, along with all the others, could relax safely after a long day.

It was where you and Optimus were now, sitting on large makeshift furniture while a few of the other bots sat around one of the small human entertainment devices Bumblebee called a "television."

The movie that was on now had scenes with humans doing something called a 'pole dance,' in which a human woman climbed a metal rod and spun around in some obscure, intricate ritual.

"I don't get it," Crosshairs piped up. "What exactly do humans find attractive about paying women to climb poles?"

"Maybe it's the music?" Sideswipe asked. "It's definitely suggestive."

"No way," Hot Rod added in his unfortunate accent. "It's about the muscles, yes? The human men, they must like how strong the dancing women are."

"Ah, you bozos don't understand anything," Wheelie complained. "She's hot, she dances, she gets off the pole and grinds on his panels a little. It's simple. Imagine if Drift or Y/N here put on a show like that. You guys would go nuts."

Crosshairs cackled loudly, slapping his knees as he said: "Y/N dancing! Now that I would pay to see!"

"Yeah! How much?" you ask jokingly.

That got all the bots' attention.

"Oh, no, Y/N," Hound groaned. "You've done it now."

"What are you gonna pay her with, Crosshairs? Parts?" Sideswipe laughed.

"No. Y/N, I have a few bottles of Iaconian high-grade I've kept in my subspace since I left. Do it… and I'll give you one." He offered.

That got even more of an uproar.

"Woah, woah, woah, you've had high grade all this time?" Hot Rod asked, standing up to move in in Crosshairs.

"Yeah! And fraggin' good stuff at that. You left Cybertron centuries ago. How old are they exactly?" Hound demanded.

"15,000 cycles, give or take." He answered, kicking Hot Rod back and coming to stand in front of you.

So, What do you say, Y/N?" He asked. He held out his hand. "Deal?"

It had been a long time since you had high grade. Since anyone had, honestly.

"Deal." You said, shaking his servo. You did your best to not pay much mind to his excited grin, but you couldn't turn to face the Prime who was sitting right next to you.

You could feel his optics on you anyway.

You were in the middle of a nature documentary when the barn doors swung open and Crosshairs, at his full height, climbed inside.

"Hey, guys!" Crosshairs shouted. "Look what I just nabbed off Daytrader!"

It was a huge metal beam undoubtedly taken from a construction site somewhere and hopefully, not from the building being constructed. It was rounded and polished, made to look just like one of the poles in the film.

Crosshairs immediately planted the beam— literally, he rammed it into the ground before welding the top part to the ceiling— and turned to you.

"Alright, Y/N. Tonight you can make good on your deal and I'll make good on mine. I've even taken the liberty of picking out a few songs for you."

A challenge was a challenge, but even the embarrassment you were sure to face when you failed was a small price to pay for a taste of high grade.

"Alright, Crosshairs." You shot back, glancing up at the pole. In your displaced form, it was a bit intimidating. "You're on."

Maybe Cade wouldn't notice.

The rest of the autobots who came to watch- Mirage, Hound, Sides, Crosshairs, Drift, and Hot Rod- certainly did, and made short work of rearranging the furniture to encircle the pole and ensuring a full 360° degree audience view.

Wonderful. You hoped all the 'research' that Wheelie had provided you with would prove helpful. But so what? At the worst, you'd come out with a funny story, a few bad jokes, and a bottle of premium high grade. It would undoubtedly hit better than the few shots of unfiltered sludge that you'd become used to on Earth.

You were prepared. To Crosshairs credit, the music wasn't bad. It had a nice beat and salacious lyrics that might help you focus your processors elsewhere.

Everything was going fine until Optimus Prime walked in and took a seat by himself in front of you.

You took a minute to calm your fans. It was no big deal, right? This was objectively entertaining. He was probably here for a laugh just like the others.

At least if things got too embarrassing, you could just turn off your optics, right?

Crosshairs clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.

"Alright, everyone. Here're the rules humans go by. First, no touching the mech's frame at all. Keep your hands to yourselves. If she falls, it's on her. Second, don't interrupt or I'll kick ya in the head. That's it." He said. He snapped his fingers this time, dimming the lights and starting the music from the beginning.

One of the mech's behind you- Hot Rod, probably- let out a loud whistle when you slowly stood and put your back against the bar.

You let the music fill your audials, wrapping your servo around the pole and sliding down with your knees closed. Facing Optimus, you slowly spread your legs apart and began to rise back up the pole. You wrapped an ankle around the polished metal and spun, letting your other leg stick out as you managed a surprisingly graceful lift.

You let yourself cling to the pole again, wrapping around it and holding yourself up with your arms and thighs. You bent one leg around the pole at the knee and leaned back, stretching out until you could see Hound staring at you with his jaw hanging open.

You slid down the pole and onto the ground, letting your legs fall open in a wide split before you lifted your servos caress up your chassis. You leaned and put both your arms to the ground and swung your legs back, lying prone on the ground before pushing yourself up and lifting your hips in a few deep mock thrusts. You moved up on to your knees and crawled to the mech closest to you— Drift, you noticed belatedly— before rising to your feet in front of him, turning around, and revving your engine as you took to the pole again.

If the bots had been laughing before, they certainly weren't now. You had never felt such a rush of excitement, of power, as the warm air from their rushing vents glanced across your frame.

You grabbed the pole and ground your panels against it before turning around and opening your legs wide, trailing your servos down to the top of your closed interface panel before splaying them open and dragging them back up.

You couldn't help but look up at Optimus, seated right in front of you. His optics were like fire, burning across your frame and leaving you strutless.

Time for the finale, then. You climbed up the pole, one arm over the other until you were well above eye level, before grabbing your leg and entering another fast spin. You ended it by putting both servos on the beam and spreading your legs as wide as you could, interface on full display.

Then you flashed your biolights. Humans had no equivalent, but to Cybertronians— to the mechs looking up at you in shock— it was positively sinful.

You let yourself slide down the pole as gracefully as you could.

How humans managed to do that on a regular basis, you didn't want to know. Your protoform was practically melting from the strain.

From the looks of the cheering mechs around you, they hadn't seemed to notice.

"That was amazing, Y/N!" Hot Rod said. "I haven't seen Drift lose his cool so quick in centuries."

Drift only grumbled in response, but he offered you a small nod despite his deep blush.

Hound clapped you on the back. "I think we could start sellin' tickets any day now. At the very least, I think you definitely deserve that high-grade now. Don't ya think so, Crosshairs?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, reaching into his subspace. "Mech of my word. Here ya are, Y/N. And not a bad show. Let me know when the next show is." He joked while he handed you the large bottle. Especially large, considering your current form.

"Thanks," you said, storing the drink in your own subspace for safe-keeping. "Why don't you try it next time, Cross?" You laughed.

He fluttered his optics at you. "Oh? Are you saying you think I'm pretty enough?" He laughed.

The other bots surrounding them quickly pounced on as he went for the pole, leaving you a chance to slip away and relax your vents. You slipped into one of the small storage rooms in the back of the barn.

And found yourself suddenly pressed against the wall and pulled into a heated kiss by none other than Optimus Prime himself.

Primus, but even displaced like he was, he still felt so big and powerful. You kissed him back, doing your best to match the movements of his glossa with your own as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His fans were practically roaring as he pulled away from you.

"Is this alright? I hope I was not too forward." He said apologetically. "Your dance affected me more than I realized."

"It would be fine if you didn't stop," you said, wrapping your legs a little tighter around him.

"Y/N," he warned, but you could detect the hint desperation in his voice as he said your name.

"Yes, Optimus, I want you. You're handsome, and kind, and brave, and I really, really want you to keep kissing me." You pleaded.

That was all he needed to hear before his mouth was back on yours. You ignored the sounds of raucous laughter coming from the barn as Optimus's hand found your panel, tracing the biolights around it with reverent servos.

"May I?" He asked between pressing bites to your neck cables.

You let your panels slide open, throwing your head back as he wet two of his fingers in his mouth and pressed them against your valve, pushing them in slowly to stretch you as gently as he could manage in his haste.

You only let him finger you for a few moments, enough to spread you open for him, before you begged him for his spike.

"Please, please, Optimus, it's fine. Just frag me already!" You begged.

"As you wish, Y/N," he growled before lining his spike up with your valve and slamming inside. It was a little soon, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care as your calipers quickly adjusted.

He wasted no time as he fragged into you hard and fast, his dentae hard and sharp against your shoulder as you held onto him while your engine stuttered in pleasure.

"Oppy, Oppy, Oppy, please," you cried, pawing your servos at his chest plates, "Please touch me!" You begged.

He dropped a servo to your anterior node, circling it as he kept up his thrusts.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N. I knew I had to see you. I knew if I watched you I wouldn't be able to stop myself. They can all watch you, but only I can touch you. You belong to me." He asserted his point with another rough thrust, lighting up those deep-set nodes that had you biting into his own shoulder plates to muffle your cries while he pinched and rolled your anterior node.

"Overload for me, Y/N," he whispered into your audial. "Show me who you belong to."

The white-hot charge you'd been carrying all night burned through your worn-out frame at his command. You could feel the energy rush through your spark as he hilted himself into you and shared the electric shock that burned you inside and out with pleasure as his spike throbbed inside you.

Slowly, gently, he pulled away and unwrapped your legs from his frame before he carefully lowered you to the ground.

You caught him by the helm before he could move away, giving him a soft kiss this time. His blue optics met your own, and he smiled before sitting next to you.

"I take it you're coming to the next show?" You ask him as you lean against his warm frame.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." He said, leaning back.

That high-grade would definitely come in handy.

#bayverse #valveplug #bayverse op is one crazy motherfucker #bayverse optimus #this isn't crack at all #premium content guys #where else can you get THIS #kinktober #reader insert #cybertronian s/o #optimus/reader #optimus prime

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

MET BY MOONLIGHT : (Part 2 of 3) : Flocking Bay

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Flocking Bay

MET BY MOONLIGHT

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

5740 words

written 2003 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express written consent of the author or proper copyright holder.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of Fan Activity, fiction, art, cosplay, music or anything else is ACTIVELY encouraged!

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I was liking Laelia more and more. We ordered lunch and it was so good that we wolfed it down. We relaxed over coffee and watched the harbor. I could see Allison’s little sailboat skimming out past the breakwater. Laelia appeared to be thinking something over. I let her have time.

Abruptly Laelia said, “Just how interested are you in the local history?”

“I find it to be fascinating,” I said. Then with a grin added, “Almost as fascinating as my present company.”

“Flatterer. Why don’t you come to my house and have a look at my collection?” she asked. Then with an impudent smile said, “No etchings — — — Just woodcuts.”

“That sounds irresistible,” I said, reaching impulsively across the table and taking her hand. We left the Stone Oven and strolled up the street, away from the harbor.

Laelia’s house was on a side street a few blocks from my clinic. Changer’s Ct. I commented on the name and Laelia responded by telling me that money changers used to have shops along the court. Most of the lots along the street were overgrown with brush and trees. Obviously, few had ever lived here. It took a very long time for brush and trees to reach the size of the ones that I saw.

Laelia’s house was another surprise. At first glance, it seemed to be a thoroughly modern cottage set among large trees. Then I noticed traces of the original drive. There was a maple growing in it that was easily five feet through the bole. What at first I took to be siding proved to be hand-cut, adze squared timbers on closer examination. The proportions of the house betrayed great age. The more I looked, the older I realized it was.

The door was made of oak and beautifully carved. It was topped by the Darkmoon crest and filled with scenes from the history of Flocking Bay. I noticed that there were none depicting the Marquost massacre.

The inside of the house showed none of the betraying signs of its age. All was neat. The walls were finished in modern style and the lights and computer in the corner were up to date. The kitchen where she went to fix a pot of tea was as tidy and modern as the rest.

In the living room was a locked, glass front bookcase of antique design, if not a genuine antique. The dairies and other books of her history collection were housed in it.

Laelia emerged from the kitchen with the teapot and cups. She laid out the service, solid silver, not plated, or I was completely off base. I had seen a set like it once before. In a museum. Hallmarked Paul Revere.

She poured the tea and unlocked the bookcase. I carefully took down the first of the Darkmoon dairies and looked at it. It had been rebound several times and was in excellent condition, given the age of its pages. I took down several other volumes at random to assess their condition.

It was a pleasant surprise. Diaries of that era are usually delicate and crumbling. The Darkmoon Diaries were in excellent condition. Even the Hilstrom Diaries were in good shape. I recognized that the early Hilstrom Diaries had many palimpsest pages. In the 1600’s paper and parchment were dear.

For the first time, I learned the full name of that first ancient enemy. He was Eben (short for Ebenezer) Gaston Hilstrom. I did not find the personality revealed in the pages to be a likeable one. In spite of that, he was an acute observer and had much to tell, including the names, not only of his descendants but those of the other ‘founders’ of Flocking Bay. The massacre was described in great and self-righteous detail. Interestingly enough, the matchlock musket that Eben used to slay the Shaman would never fire again, no matter what was done towards repairing it. It was retired to Eben’s mantelpiece with a small plaque.

They had named the town for the many bird rookeries in its sheltered waters and woods.

The first of the Darkmoons had come a year later, from Civilized Europe, though she spoke English only haltingly. She had been a stowaway, fleeing from a forced marriage in Poland. Two ‘honest sailors’ vouched for her and Eben bought her indenture from them to reimburse the ship for her passage. He was pleasantly surprised at the low price that he paid. At the normal and customary rates, she would be a free person in only five years. Eben altered the price on the document of sale and had her services for seven.

Sipping Laelia’s excellent English tea, I turned to the Darkmoon Dairies. She was busy with official business, working away at her computer in the corner of the room. A few people came and went on routine business needing a Justice of the Peace. A few traffic and parking citations, an application for a marriage license, nothing extraordinary at all. After the marriage license applicant had gone, Laelia got down a large ledger type book and copied particulars from the application into it. She shut the book with a snap and a satisfied smile.

I looked up from my reading. The Darkmoon Dairies were fascinating in themselves but there was something that I couldn’t quite put a finger on. It wasn’t their age. I was certain of that. I determined to get copies of both sets of books, if Laelia would allow it.

“Laelia,” I asked hesitantly, “would it be alright with you if I brought over my digital camera and an ultraviolet light?”

She looked up from her work with a secretive smile and asked, “Why the U.V. light?”

I carefully held one of the first volumes of the Darkmoon Dairies open and pointed to a page. “This is a palimpsest. The older writing was erased, probably with a sponge of vinegar, and new writing done over it at right angles. A U.V. light picture of the page with the proper digital enhancement will reveal the original writing as well as that of your ancestress’.”

Her eyebrows raised up and her pupils widened in interest. She nodded. “I had experts look at them years ago. They thought that these weren’t recoverable. If you think that they are and it is as nondestructive as that, go ahead. I will need accurate copies of anything you get, both the palimpsests and the main books. I need good readable copies to give to Mrs. Alderman at the library anyway.” She grinned lupinely and added, “You cannot believe the determination of that woman where a historical document is concerned.”

“Then I will make three copies,” I replied. “One for you, one for the library and one for myself.”

“Yourself? You will have it in your computer and on disk won’t you?”

“I like the feel of paper in my hands when I’m studying. I’m old fashioned that way.”

She had crossed the room in uncanny silence and I nearly jumped when she laid a hand on mine. “I would very much like to recover those palimpsests but there is a problem. I don’t want all of them to be known. Can I sort which ones are to be available?”

What could I say? It was the only thing possible, so I said, “Certainly. I will have to have copies in my computer and storage devices but I won’t release anything without your consent.”

I hadn’t even realized that she was tense until she relaxed. “Thank you, Dr. Fredricks. I don’t know for sure what is there but I do know, from family tradition, that some of the parchment in the first volumes of both the Hilstrom and Darkmoon Dairies was made from skins salvaged from the Marquost village.”

Hiding my excitement, I said, “I have it on good authority that though the Marquost did not write, per-se, they did have a system of pictographs. Some claim to be able to interpret the few pictograms that survive.” I should know. As the last Shaman, I was one! And I had lied about the writing. The Marquost had been genuinely literate.

Laelia said with some authority, “With my family history, I am most curious about any such things. I made tracings of the ones on the Blackwall before you built your clinic around it. Does your system work on stone as well as paper?”

I grinned back at her. “The photographic system was originated for recovering lost stone pictograms. I made some pictures before I built the clinic around the Blackwall. Do you want to see them?” I was already sure of the answer and was pulling a wallet of photos out of my inside coat pocket.

Laelia looked carefully at my enhanced photos, brows knitted in concentration. Almost absently she opened the bookcase and pulled a slim binder out of a hidden drawer. She laid it open and took my photos in hand. After many minutes she laid aside my photos and looked at her drawings with new eyes. She picked up a pencil and began to sketch rapidly, muttering, “Of course, now it makes sense.” Her pencil down, she looked at me and nodded. “Yes, definitely do your magic on the books. Who knows what will be revealed?”

I agreed at once, before she could change her mind. Over the next several weeks Allison became sure that there was something going on between Laelia and myself because I was spending so much time over at the little house on Changer’s Ct. The job of photographing three hundred years of written history was huge. Also, the dairies were fascinating in themselves.

Among the hardships that the people of Flocking Bay endured were many minor animal attacks. Dog bites, the occasional bear mauling, being raked by an eagle for getting too close to a nest were just a few. Occasionally there was a fatal attack but those seemed rare. There appeared to be little discernible pattern to the attacks.

On the other side, Flocking Bay was not your typical small town that would die out. The small fishing fleet always managed to find the best and highest priced catches. Gardens and surrounding farms bloomed. Stores found active trade. No matter the vicissitudes of the world outside, depressions, wars, epidemics or whatever, Flocking Bay continued to prosper quietly.

Few ever wanted to leave and most of those came back.

Through all of this vast span of time the Darkmoons had stayed and observed. Oddly, there was no mention of marriages or husbands. All of the Darkmoon children were female and carried the family name. In so small a town, it was peculiar that nobody seemed to notice. It was simply accepted that the Darkmoons would cling to their ‘foreign’ ways. They stayed to themselves, out of the way, nearly out of town, on the virtually deserted Changer’s Ct. For almost all of that time, the one thing that they did do was handle the duties of the Justice of the Peace. Animal Control had been added to that office in the 1950’s.

The Darkmoons were always ready with assistance for those in the town who needed help. It might be a loan or perhaps just a suggestion for a way to make money. The Darkmoons showed little or no need for money themselves. They always appeared to have whatever they needed for the people that came to them. Perhaps they were independently wealthy. Nobody knew — or cared.

The Hilstrom Dairies ended in 1867. The Darkmoon Dairies came right up to the present. Laelia was still writing in the most recent volume.

The photography had been, if a long project, at least a simple one. Now the real work began. Allison now thought that Laelia and I had broken up. I spent all of my time at the computer, enhancing the palimpsests first.

Some were of no interest, just old notes or handbills of one sort or another. Others were very different. There was the original Darkmoon indenture contract, now recovered. The forgery to gain an extra two years of service showed too. More important to me were the ones on homemade parchment.

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Return to Flocking Bay

#MET BY MOONLIGHT #Part 2 of 3 #Flocking Bay #Written by De Writer

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afewmarvelousthoughts · 5 years

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Stay Ch. 17

Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Violence, death (background character), wee bit of fluff

A/N: Y’all are the most patient readers a writer could ask for. Like you literally just send me nothing but love and support and never get rude or pushy like I know some folks have to deal with. Tbh I feel so lucky to have all of you in my pumpkin patch.

I know it took a while but Budapest... well so many things start happening here and that’s all I’m gonna say.

I hope it was worth the wait!

Tags are open!

January 2008

Budapest was cold as fuck in the winter. Miserably cold. The kind you swear just makes you stupid because you feel sluggish and irritated constantly.

Or… maybe you just tried to convince yourself of that because it would make the absolute shit show this job had spiraled into easier to stomach.

“Hey!” You scream out into the empty corridor from your tight cell. “Y’all won’t get shit outta me if I freeze to death.” Silence is your only answer. You send your sixth sense out to try and find anyone but come back empty. You’re either completely alone or they’re just too far away.

Groaning you huddle against the cold concrete wall, shivering. You were a tough bitch but… three days of this shit with next to no food or water was getting very old… and maybe a smidge more dangerous than you anticipated.

With nothing else to do you run over everything in your brain, hoping backtracking will lead you to some kind of solution.

This gig was low level, small crime syndicate looking for a way to infiltrate their larger rival. Honestly, standard stuff. You took it because you wanted something quick to kill time while you plotted out your next move. The more you dug though, the more you realized the syndicate that hired you was like an iceberg and you were apparently the fucking Titanic.

On the surface they were small, unassuming, nothing immediately indicating danger in any way. Only once you were drowning in the freezing water did you start to see the scope of something much much larger. The rival you were supposed to be looking into had nothing on these guys.

So far you had found threads leading to everything from paramilitary groups in the Balkans to human experimentation and trafficking. Each thread led to something new but what you couldn’t find was who the hell was spinning them. Sure, these groups were good enough to sort of stand on their own but they were far too stable to be doing so. There was a source point somewhere, you just couldn’t fucking find it.

Being able to suss out even the toughest answers was your thing. When you couldn’t it drove you crazy. And maybe it made you a little reckless. If you had been sensible you’d have walked away, or at least just done the job you were paid to do. But no, you couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“And now you’re gonna freeze to death in a fucking cell in Hungary.” You say out loud to no one.

You can see the sunrise through the window at the end of the hall, thankful that you can at least track the time you’ve been here. Your head is foggy from hunger and dehydration. How many days was it before you die from lack of water…

Hours pass and you let yourself drift off, unable to dissect the situation any further. After a bit, you hear someone… running. Your eyes creak open to see a burly man at the door to your cell.

“Get up!” He hisses in heavily accented English.

“Why?” You drawl. This is clearly not the response he was anticipating.

He tosses a black cotton sack into the cell, “Put it on if you want to get out of here. If not I leave you to starve.” You note the gun in the front of his waistband, unsecured.

“I’ll die of dehydration before starvation but,” you slip the sack over your head, “whatever.”

With a grunt, he opens the cell and jerks you to your feet. His fingers dig into the flesh of your upper arm as he pulls you from the cell. Under the hood, a smirk curls your lips.

You raise your hand to your mouth, feigning the sound of a yawn. Then, you blindly reach up for the man’s face. When your fingers feel the stubble you force your power into him. Images flash but you try not to hold them. You don’t give a fuck about his information you just need him down.

He cries out and stumbles to his knees, flinging you away from him. Immediately you rip the sack off your head and spin to face him, his nose is bleeding but he’s not dead. You run at him and land a hard kick to his face, sending him to his back and pluck the gun from his belt. Before he can attempt to regain any balance you fire one shot into his head.

The crackle of a walkie-talkie meets your ears. You fish the device from the dead man’s pocket.

“Heinen?! What’s happening? We need to move now. Where is the asset? Heinen, come in!”

“Cheers, Heinen.”

You have no clue where to go but you can’t just sit here and wait either. Carefully you make your way through the building, all senses on high alert. There are a few other empty cells and some storage rooms. Cautiously you head up a shallow flight of stairs, aware that you could be met with a gun to your head at any moment.

It's quiet… they likely didn’t waste many resources to guard one unsuspecting woman. You can just make out the front of the building, afternoon light streaming brightly through the barred windows when you begin to sense others. They’re outside… blocking your damn exit.

You’re trying to sort out how the hell you’re going to get out of here when something like a small explosion sounds outside. There’s a cacophony of curses from the men. Distant shots meet your ears.

The front door clicks open and three men stumble inside as bullets ping off of the thick glass. Immediately you duck down a short hall and into the doorway of a reeking bathroom.

“How the fuck did they find us!?” One of the men bellows in German.

“Does it fucking matter?! You, go find that lazy fuck Heinen, maybe we can use the woman.”

Over my dead fucking body, you think. The third man grunts something you can’t quite make out and you sink further into the stink.

“Heinen!” He yells out, “You better not be fucking that bitch!” You can’t deny the sick satisfaction that rises in you.

Another small explosion rattles the glass and you try to think of who the hell is firing at these guys. Regardless of who it is you curse them because they are making a shit situation so much fucking worse.

After several minutes you hear the walkie in your pocket crackle. Fuck. Frantically you shut the device off, breath caught in your throat. Suddenly unbothered by the rotten sewer stink you retreat to one of two stalls and press your back against the wall.

You can just barely hear the other two receiving the news that Heinen is dead. A beat passes and one of them, the second man to speak earlier you think, calls out, “Remember alive!” Small victories you guessed. Though… alive could sometimes be worse.

It takes a while for the two men to finally head down the hall to the bathroom. Anxiety and fear swirl in your chest. You let it. The feeling rising, getting worse and worse, threatening to cut off your air supply with panic. You allow yourself think of every terrible thing they could do to you, let yourself be inspired by the things men like them had done to you…

This is still new, still something you’re feeling out, but when the men finally make their way to the bathroom you release your emotions like a wave. An almost numb sense of relief floods your body, your mind crisp and clear.

One of the men begins to wheeze in a panic attack. You peek around the stall as the other man turns to his companion, flustered and unsteady himself. This is the only window you’re going to get. Aiming you fire at the man with his back to you, planting a bullet in his neck.

Gurgling he hits his knees. The other screams, his own emotions mixing with the ones you slammed into him, causing him to truly lose it. You fire as he bolts catching him in the back.

As you stalk out you look down at the man you hit in the neck, flopping like a fish, desperately trying to staunch the bleeding. Without a second thought, you kick his head hard to the side. A sick popping noise and he stops moving.

Slowly emotions trickle back into you, your body seems to warm with them, heart starting to pick up a rapid tattoo rather than the calm steady thrum from after your release. Good. This wasn’t over. Once again you try to pull on anything that will make your emotions rise, fears, memories, the whole lot. When a bullet hits the wall beside you, you don’t have to try anymore.

Blindly you fire back down the hall and fling yourself behind a desk. Another shot ricochets of the top and you flinch. Balling up the terror rising in you, once more you force it from your body.

There’s nothing for a moment. You notice the commotion outside seems to have quieted. A muffled sob comes from your left and then the thud of a punch. You don’t dare move.

The sound of shuffling meets your ears. Just barely you lean around the desk. The third man isn’t as offset as the other two had been but he’s certainly dazed. You fire at him and miss. He takes cover and fires back, just barely grazing your arm.

Before you have time to register the pain there’s a blinding flash and the door falls in with a crash.

Your ears are still ringing, dust and smoke filling the air, as you lean to see if the men are still there. The third man pops up to fire toward the door and you take your shot. You don’t even wait to see if it lands before crouching once more.

A bullet hits the wall in front of you before you hear a bevy of shots ring to your left. You’re almost ready to try forcing this new wave of emotion out… not quite though. Without aiming you fire behind you, trying to get a feel for the direction of this new threat.

Instead of being met with bullets an arrow plants itself in the wall, a light pulsing near the tip. You have absolutely no time to think before the flash bomb goes off.

Temporarily you’re blinded, ears ringing, and immediately in the shock the emotions you’d been planning on weaponizing flee from your body. You lay, stunned, and drained behind the desk. All you can manage to think in your stupor is that arrows were significant.

Something soft, warm, and somehow familiar presses against your lips. Automatically you feel your mouth open in response, returning the kiss. That warm thick feeling of love snakes through your limbs. Slowly your eyes open, still out of focus from the flash but it’s Natasha.

“Y/N?!”

“Am I dead?” You ask as she pulls away.

A tense laugh bubbles out of her, “Not yet baby.” Gently she helps you up, leaning you against the wall.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Clint says collapsing next to you. “Didn’t know it was… well, you.”

His thigh is bleeding you note, “Pretty sure y’all just saved my ass. So we’re square.” You look over to see the man your shot in the bathroom seizing from one of Natasha’s Widow’s Bites.

“Friend of yours?” Clint asks catching your stare.

“Fuck no.”

“Then what the hell’re you doing here, Y/N?” His stare is intense.

“Could ask y’all the same thing.”

“Come on babe,” Natasha gives your hand a squeeze.

“Personally, I was being held in a cell downstairs.” Nat and Clint exchange a look. “Your turn.”

“We were tapped to take out this syndica-”

“Nat…” Clint’s voice holds a warning.

“What? If she’s here she probably already knows more than we do.”

“Likely true.” You agree.

“Anyway, they were getting their hands in some high-level stuff. S.H.I.E.L.D. thought it would be best to weed them out before they got too big.”

You snort, “For being one of the world’s foremost intelligence agencies, S.H.I.E.L.D. seems to miss a lot.”

“What’s that mean?” Clint’s brows raise.

“Lot’s,” you groan a bit pushing away from the wall. “Can you walk?”

“Yup,” he stands, slowly.

“I’ll happily give y’all the skinny on everything. Let’s just get the fuck outta here.”

Natasha glances at the man on the ground groaning. “Sounds good. First though… wanna help us out?” She flashes you that sultry smile you can never say no to.

“Fine.” You kneel next to the man’s head and lay a hand on his forehead. He’s mostly unconscious but you can pull information from him anyway. Though he doesn’t have much.

When you’re done you stand, “Got it. I say leave him, he’s no one.”

They agree and you take the guns off the other man and the three of you make your way via back alleys to the rundown hotel they’ve set up in.

“Budget cuts?” You ask, plopping down on the creaking bed.

Natasha laughs, “Cover.” She pushes a strand of hair behind your ear and you catch her hand, kissing her leather covered knuckles.

Clint clears his throat. “I’m gonna shower. When I’m done, Y/N, you’re going to give us the rundown before-”

“Clint-”

He cuts Nat off. “Look, I almost took more bullets today than even I’m comfortable with and I’m not about to lose my pension because Fury thinks I’m sheltering a fugitive. No offense, Y/N.”

“None taken.”

“Good.” A smirk curls his lips, “I’ll make it a long shower though,” he winks and closes the door to head to his room.

“He doesn’t think you’re-”

“Honey, I know.” She sits beside you and kisses you hard before you push her off. “God knows I fucking missed you but… I’ve been in a cell for three days. I really need some water and a shower myself.”

“Oh! Shit! Yeah.” She blushes a bit and you can’t help but smile.

She stands but you tug her down for one more kiss, “I love you, Natasha.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

That water is the most amazing thing you’ve ever tasted. Once you’ve downed two bottles you both get in the shower.

Cramped though it may be feeling her skin next to yours, hearing her gasps as you make her come, it’s feeding you more than any meal. Hours ago you thought you were about to check out. Now, this… Fate was a funny cunt, you’d give her that.

When Clint knocks you’re on your second protein bar, the only food Nat had in the room. You tell them about the job, what you’d found out, how you couldn’t find the source point. As you run everything down you can see the wheels spinning in both their heads, connecting your info with what S.H.I.E.L.D. had given them.

“Guess that’s why they sent us in,” Clint taps his fingers on the table thinking. “Thought we could take this one out and scare whatever bigger entity is actually running shit.”

“Nah,” you can’t buy that. “Taking them out will just drive the rest deeper underground. If they thought this group was the source point maybe…” Or maybe taking this group out was a message to the other satellite groups you found… Something churns in your gut but you can’t name it… yet.

“Maybe we got bad intel.” Natasha chimes matter-of-factly. “Not the first time.”

“Not the first time?!” You don’t try to hide your frustration. “How many times have you been sent into a gunfight with shit information, Natasha?” Your blood boils at the thought.

“Babe… I’m a spy… Shit happens.”

“Shit doesn’t have to happen. Not if your intelligence people-”

“You’re the best intelligence person there is and you ended up in a cell.” Clint’s voice is level but there’s a hint of reproach. “It happens.” You shake your head and stare at the wall, unwilling to argue.

“Well,” Clint sighs, “we still have a job to do.” Natasha nods in agreement. “You want in Y/N?”

“Hell yes.” You’d be more than thrilled to burn the assholes that kidnapped you.

Burning them… isn’t really how things go down.

“By the way,” Clint is huddled next to you behind the smoking hulk of a car while the assholes shooting at you reload, “if I die here, I’m going to haunt you.”

“Why me?!” You pop up and let loose a few well-placed shots to flush some of them out.

“Because I need to fucking blame someone!” He nocks a bomb arrow and aims for the now repositioning attackers. It goes off, taking out two of them.

“Nice.” You bump knuckles before fleeing for new cover.

“Also,” you crouch next to a reeking dumpster, eyes on the roofs above you, “blame your boss. He’s the one with bad intel.”

The two of you head up a rusty fire escape and look at the roof across the street where Natasha is fighting two men. She’s holding her own well enough but still. You lift your gun, gauging if you can make the distance.

“I got this.” Clint pushes your hand down and a shock arrow flies from his bow, lodging it in one of the men’s backs. This distracts the other man and Nat kicks him off the roof.

“Thanks!” She yells. Your coms are busted.

Five hours and a hell of a lot of collateral damage later and the three of you limp bloody and bruised to a rendezvous point they’d been sent earlier.

From the outside the building looks like a long empty shop front, windows looking into nothing but a dusty abandoned space. As soon as you’re in the front door though it’s clear this place is reinforced like a fucking bunker. The steel door clangs shut, the windows are clearly some kind of tech as they don’t even exist from the inside of the space. The interior is actually clean and sterile with a few uncomfortable chairs, cots and some kind of med station toward the back.

Sighing Natasha pulls you into her arms. Both your lips are bleeding, faces bruised, you just can’t be bothered enough to care. You took those fuckers out, none of you died, and she’s here in your arms.

“You two are gonna make me barf.” Clint collapses into one of the chairs.

“Oh come on,” Nat smiles at you. “This wasn’t so bad.” He doesn’t respond, just flicks her off.

“Well,” a familiar voice chimes from the back of the room, coming from an unseen entry point. “That was a mess.” Nick Fury looks you all up and down with one judgmental eye.

“Jobs done though.” Clint doesn’t bother to stand.

“Yeah. With how much damage.” His gaze holds yours. You feel your back stiffening in defiance. “Any chance you’re the reason what should have been a simple clean up almost took out a quarter of Budapest?”

“Aww, you must think I’m something real special to be worth grenade launchers.” Natasha squeezes your hand in warning. “But no. This would have been messy regardless because whoever fed you your intel doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It was no small syndicate and with a whole hell of a lot more firepower than these two were prepared to handle.”

“Honestly, Fury,” Clint limps over to your side making the three of you a united front, “if Y/N wasn’t here to warn us what we may run into we’d likely be dead.” Natasha nods in agreement.

Silence hangs while Fury processes. “Huh. Well, I guess a thank you is in order.”

“Oh, more than a thank you will be in order,” he looks taken back by your tone. “I’m thinkin’ you’re gonna be obliged to cut me a fat check after the intel I’m gonna hand you.” You can feel Natasha’s stress but Fury looks amused.

“Any chance we can negotiate? I do have a budget to think about.” He actually almost smiles.

“Well… you could pay… or you could take it as a goodwill gesture and pull back on the terms you laid out at Barton’s place.”

Now Fury does smile, “As if either of you listened to me anyway.” You return his smile. He was good.

Natasha looks like an embarrassed teenager. He laughs, “I may have one eye but I see everything, Romanoff.” He turns to stride back, “Get cleaned up we’ll talk after.” He disappears into a previously unseen room.

“Told you he’d warm up,” Clint says with a smile elbowing Natasha.

Even if you’re on decent enough terms, sitting across a table from Nicky Fury is intimidating. His presence effortlessly commands respect in the way only someone who’s more than paid their dues can manage. You’d likely never admit it but you genuinely liked this man and despite not being able to read him… you maybe trusted him.

“And you’re sure all these factions are linked in some way?”

“Positive.” You hold his gaze, unwavering.

Sighing he stands and paces the small conference room a few times. You remain seated, staring at the assorted diagrams and notes you had whipped up to demonstrate what you knew to be true. Something big lurked in the shadows…

“Look,” his voice is low, heavy with something you can’t quite name, “I’ll deny this if you ever tell anyone but we could really use someone like you and-”

“No.” Hearing those men refer to you like you were nothing more than a tool to be used had been a reminder that you didn’t need. You’d never be someone’s dog again, no matter how good they seemed.

“Not even gonna hear me out?”

“It’s nothing personal but… I just can’t.”

“Not even if you can have a nice set up with your girl?” You glare at him, angry that he’d use her against you. “I may not necessarily approve as far as national security is concerned but it’s clear you two have something.”

“Not even for her.” You gaze is ice. Not wanting this to continue you let the mix of terror and conviction burning in your veins seep from you just a touch, trying to aim it right for his chest. Fury coughs, expression surprised, to say the least.

“I can’t… I won’t be on a leash. Plus… I need to follow this through. Something about it…”

“Understood.” He rubs his chest setting down and a small bit of satisfaction sparks in you. “How about freelance?”

“Well, now you’re talkin’ my language, sir.”

His mouth ticks up just a touch. “You find any information that may be a threat to American citizens, involve my organization, or my people you come to me. No one else.”

Your brows raise. “Don’t trust your own?”

“I don’t trust anyone.”

You nod in understanding. “That it?”

“And I may have a side project come up soon that I think you’d be good for. A little initiative… Nothing solid yet but may be worth considering in time.”

“Alright. You got a deal.”

Both of you stand and shake. Before you can open the door though Fury’s hand reaches out holding it closed. You turn to him, questioning.

“You ever read Moby Dick?”

“Um… yeah?”

“When you’re hunting monsters remember, it’s easy to become an Ahab. Don’t let it happen.”

You nod somberly, dread suddenly curling in your stomach.

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight @jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @lesbian-girls-wayhaught @siriuslycloudy2 @alphalesbianwolf @sxph-t @marvelb00kwolf @itsqueenofchains

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow #marvel fic #queer fic

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chaniters · 4 years

Text

Intervention, part two.

An Argent-Ortega fic, Soft is sometimes the best Sidestep. The title is a callback to an earlier fic that has nothing to do with this, and titles are just hard for me tonight.

Cyrus decides to let the two rangers visit his evil lair, and nobody knows what to expect, him least of all.

WARNING, there are slight implications that might be spoilerous for the Alpha, so don’t read if you want to stay clear of those!!!

Enjoy!

________________________________________

“So… this is it” you state with little energy.

“I KNEW IT! I knew it was a sewer base!” Argent states as she walks through the security gate you installed.

“We know. This is the fifth time you say it” You answer as she moves past you.

“You didn’t even take anything out of the box?” Ortega asks appalled looking at the towers of piled state-of-the-art technological priceless junk you’ve been stealing from the biggest companies in town, all of them still in their original packaging.

“This is… quite the collection” Argent says looking at them with her special sight.

“I don’t really need any of that”

“You… are a hoarder. I can’t believe you’re living like this again” he adds

“Again?” Argent asks.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve caught him living in a sewer ruin”

“I KNEW IT! You’re a mole-person!”

“Yeah, that’s what Anathema used to say...” you say tiredly. Shit. Why is this all so familiar?

“Cyrus, I can’t let you…”

“No!” you interrupt because you know where this is going. He’s pulled the same exact shit, using Argent to get him here “I’m staying here. This isn’t back then. This is now. I’m not going to stay with you or in your guest room or whatever. You know how dangerous this is, and we both know I won’t be safer in with you. You won’t be safer with me, you know that. I’m a criminal now”

“But you can’t…-”

“I said no,” you say looking at him, completely resolute.

“I just…,” he says looking between you and Argent “... Mierda. Fine. Ok, I get it” he says. “But I don’t like it. You’re not well Cyrus, you shouldn’t be alone.”

“What’s new with that? Besides, you’re here now, right?”

He groans, moving past piles of boxes that force you all to move sideways.

“Do you even have any open space in here?” he asks, trying not to sound too passive-aggressive, and failing.

“Yeah I do, further along... I wasn’t thinking of showing it to anyone, ok?” you say embarrassed. Why are you embarrassed? “This is a villain’s lair and not a fancy home, I’m a fugitive from literally everyone, what did you expect?.”

“Well, you know, since you’ve been stealing so much, I thought that maybe you would have sold some of this shit…”

“I can’t take chances getting all of these in the market! You know what happens to criminals who act like big spenders, it’s a basic mistake. And you know I don’t care about cash, I just need to be in the news.”

“I don’t mean cash, I mean living space,” he says struggling to move past the narrow passage filled with boxes of neuro-chip parts from all the best brands in modding tech. “Sorry. I don’t generally get a guided tour trough evil lairs”

“It’s not an EVIL lair…” you say defensively.

“I think I’ll just shut up for a moment”

Eventually, you all come out of the forest of boxes into the remaining open space on the old station. The old ticket booths have been turned into storage for your suit’s parts, a number of weapons and a few computers. The adjacent security office is where you’re now assembling the skin regenerator. Ortega’s eyes lock up on your board, were your plans used to be. You removed everything before he got here, and he clearly notices.

“It’s not dirty as the rest of the tunnels,” Argent says running a silver finger trough the surfaces.

“Well, I did take some stuff out of the box… I’ve got about a dozen Loombas sweeping the floors every two days.”

“So THAT’s why you were stealing cleaning supplies…” Ortega ponders as he moves on.

“I’ve got… a sort of… living room?” you say nervously fiddling with the key of the old control room and administrative offices. This is so wrong, this place looks like a hoarder’s junkyard and you knew it. Why didn’t you just meet them someplace else? There’s plenty of locations to have secret meetings… but no. You had to let Ortega and Argent invite themselves into your secret base. You finally match the correct key with the lock, opening the door.

“So… uh… here it is,” you say motioning them into the old subway control-room that you refurbished into a living-room, hoping it will get better reception than your hoarder sea of unopened tech junk boxes.

Sofa, TV set, mini bar, some magazines, and a perpetually running air conditioning device keeps it cool and dry. It doesn’t look too bad, right? You even have a few posters here.

Shit.

You rush to stand just in front of the Ranger’s old calendar, open on Ortega’s issue, the one where he’s wearing the least. You turn to face them hoping Ortega didn’t see it… Double shit.

He didn’t, but it’s somehow worse now, because Argent certainly did, in full colored detail. The resulting hyena laughter makes you die a little inside, as you blush beyond the red spectrum.

“What is it?” Ortega asks, perplexed.

“Nothing!” you say removing the cursed thing and rolling it into a tube keeping it behind your back. “It’s nothing!” He gives you that suspicious look… You can’t read his thoughts but he must be thinking it’s some part of your masterplan… ugh. You should probably burn it before he sees it. Argent’s mocking smile is relentless as she walks past you...

“Oh it’s certainly not just ‘nothing’” Argent says taking the thing off your hands while you were distracted. “This… is everything!”

“No! Give it back!” you let out hopelessly

“Hey, I want to see it too!” she says keeping it a few inches above your reach. Shitshitshit. That’s what you get for being made too short. The farm ruins your life yet again.

The two of them gang up and move you out of the way… Ortega’s smugness as Argent shows him is so strong you have to look down to avoid his gaze.

“You realize, of course, now I’m going to have to kill you,” you say trying to muster your villainous voice.

“Come here you little freak!” Ortega says pulling you into a hug that you don’t even try to dodge because what’s even the point now that he knows just how bad you had it all along. That thing is old, from before your capture, and he can obviously tell you had to look for it.

Sinking into his arms it with no shields, there is kissing, laughter and ruffling your hair and everything he knows infuriates you, with Argent just watching amusedly.

This is a new low…

He finally released the hug, keeping just an arm wrapped around your shoulder, and Argent approaches to readjusts your wrinkled shirt. “Relax Cyrus! We’re just messing with you”

You almost lift a hand to stop her, but there is something soothing in the gesture, in having both of them so close… so warm.

You can’t read Ortega’s thoughts but you can certainly feel hers. She thinks the two of you look cute, especially with the height difference, him looking so protective over you. It makes you feel small but in a new -good- way for a change. She’s the one that’s too cute, worrying about your clothes. You should probably tell her that at some point.

“I’m used to being messed with. Just … not this way”

“Not used to people going through your stuff huh?” she says handing you your calendar back as a peace offering “Really good picture by the way…” she adds to Ortega with an unexpectedly mischievous smile. The one she used to make you lose your grip on reality when you took that mask off.

“Thanks,” you both say, you because you’re getting the calendar back, him because he’s falling into her world.

“I’m not used to having stuff period”

“I can tell from what you did with all your stolen tech,” Ortega says rubbing your shoulder before pointing at the calendar. “Must say this is a real confidence booster… you know, I didn’t know if you were into me at all back in the day, it was always making out and you running, and then kissing… You always left me clueless. Good to know I still have it”

“You always had it,” you say with a nervous laugh without thinking…. which leads into him smiling back, and a kiss, and Argent rubbing your back gently because she *wants* this go further between you and...and it’s getting warm, too fucking warm, and you just can’t…

“Sooo do you want a drink maybe? I have a few things” you say untangling yourself from them in the gentlest -but swiftest- way possible.

Ortega lets out a soft chuckle. “See? It’s always like that Angie. One wrong step and you lose him”

“It wasn’t ALWAYS like that,” you say bringing beer and a carbonated sugary drink that you know Argent will like because that’s a perk of telepathy, knowing everything that people want and choosing what to give them.

For instance, you know she wants you, but this soda’s all she’s going to get right now. You brought them here to discuss serious matters, this isn’t a date or anything like that...

“Ooooh. So you didn’t escape him at some point? He finally got you, Cyrus?”

Why in the hell do you even have a mouth, you wonder. Why must you repeatedly shoot yourself in the foot? Are you doing this on purpose?

“You bet I did!” he snorts, making you tremble as you serve the drinks. You’ve never been so embarrassed without knowing why in your life. “I got him, and then I went and got him again, and he didn’t run away, I can tell you that”

“Wow,” she says with renewed interest. The thoughts in her head are undecipherable but too hot to handle. “...wait, so you told him about the tattoos already?”

“No, I turned off the lights, ok?” you interject quickly before Ortega can answer that.” … and can we… please not talk about it like that?” ” you plead wondering if this is the moment you die.

“What do you mea… oh shit, am I making you feel uncomfortable?” he says, now with true concern.

“YES. VERY!”

“I didn’t mean to… I’m not bottom shaming you or anything…”

“There’s nothing wrong with bottoming Cyrus” Argent adds quickly. Oh, she’s now picturing, with a vivid imagination. That’s just great… just what you needed...

“I know, but… I just don’t like people speaking about me like... that,” you say, realizing too late that you’re being too honest.

Argent gives you a puzzled look, Ortega’s expression shifting as he realizes what you meant.

“Hey! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything like that Cyrus, you know that right?”

“... yes,” you let out. “Yes, I do,” you add, to his relief. “This is just… all new to me. Talking about… sex.”

“Well I’ll be more careful from now on” he states looking directly into your eyes, Argent’s mind’s catching up, realizing there’s a story to be told there. She will ask later. Perhaps you’ll answer when she does.

“It’s just … It was so great. And I couldn’t tell anyone up to this moment.?” he says looking at Argent. “Do you know how many years I had been waiting for that? Back then I almost had to break my back again just to get your name. And then you died… and you came back… and you finally agreed to come to my place and It happened… and It … It was everything”

“You can’t mean that,” you say looking away. “You’ve slept with plenty of people better than me”

“That’s not true Cyrus. I only really loved you”

This is too much… you can’t deal with this shit… you flee into Argent’s thoughts but Ortega’s words have turned them so soft that you feel like you’re sliding down a cascade of melted butter, her sharks falling freely not knowing what the fuck’s going on.

Shit. Abort, abort!

You return swiftly, back to the space behind your eyes, having to deal with your stupid emotions. This is so unfair...

“Ooooohhhh you two are in love? That’s so sweet” Argent says with a voice so soft and tiny that it can’t possibly belong to her. No. It definitely belongs to some girl 10 years younger that’s reading a romance book in secret with a flashlight under her bed’s covers… wait... was that a memory of hers?!

Ortega doesn’t answer, he just smiles, knowing he’s pulled your strings far beyond the snapping point by now. He’s been winning these small battles for years and now he’s won the war.

You want to punch him… kiss him… flee…

But Argent decides for you, kissing him instead before you can say anything else… and then she literally leaves you speechless, with a long kiss on your lips.

“You know… I do have… a … bedroom too… ” you say, almost breathless, as she finally parts.

_______________some time later____________________

“Must say I wasn’t even sure you owned a bed,” Ortega says, his hand softly rubbing Argent’s silver fingers above you, as you lay in between them.

“This is the coziest sewer lair I’ve ever been invited too” Argent adds.

“Subway lair” you correct her absently still trying to process what just happened. What you all just did… And the way they didn’t judge you when you cried…

And now you’re just here, having this calm chat while they roast you about your terrible lair. You could probably get used to this. Probably.

“You know, I would like to be able to do this, the way it’s supposed to be felt” Argent comments. “If only SOMEONE would finally complete that regenerator…That would be so great”

“Is this your strategy to get me to work harder? Sex as a weapon?” you ask, being more calm and smooth about it than you ever thought you could be.

“Well, I tried claws so I figured I could go for something new for a change. Is it working?”

“So very much” you confess with a broken voice, kissing their joined hands. “I’ll get it done… and… I just want to add… I fucking love you two” you let out, the final barriers being swept away, leaving you deep into the uncharted, very dangerous territory of openness about feelings, emotions, and all that awful stuff.

_______________________________________

My fanfiction: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Rydén. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

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sciencelings-writes · 5 years

Text

Incredibles AU (Part 1)

My next @iron-man-bingo entry! Enjoy!!

The Starks were a normal American family. Tony, the father, worked as a mechanic for a decent wage, Virginia, the stay-at-home mom, took care of the kids and kept the house in order, Harley, the eldest son was a high school junior with passing grades and helped his father as a hobby, Peter, the middle child, was less than a year younger than his brother and spent his time reading and daydreaming, lastly, Morgan, the baby. She was a normal toddler that as most normal babies, couldn’t talk and seemed to be having as much fun being completely unaware of what was happening.

But on the inside, the Starks were not very normal. Tony could feel the electricity through technology and could create whatever his brilliant mind could come up with. Virginia, often going by her nickname Pepper, had fire under her skin and could melt metal with her bare hands. Harley could see and control the magnetic fields around him and levitate the metals around him. Peter could lift an elephant with his pinky, stick to even the slickest materials, hear the heartbeats of people miles away, feel danger moments from its impact, perform intricate acrobatic maneuvers, and balance on a string. Morgan could… well, they didn't know yet but her powers would manifest pretty soon. It usually took a few years.

So yeah, the Starks were pretty normal. They kind of had to be. In the world that they lived in, people like them were a controversial topic and publicly using their powers or using them to intervene in everyday life was illegal. Sure, Pepper could heat up a pot of pasta to get it to boil faster and Harley could lift the car that his father was working on, but in the public eye, they had to do things the normal way. Peter had to pretend that he couldn’t lift as much as he was able to, Tony had to let his phone stay thick and inefficient. Because they had to be normal. Even if it made life feel emotionally unsaturated.

However, Tony was unsatisfied with this. He missed having a suit of technologically advanced armor. He missed flying above the air and going against the odd villain of the week. He missed the rush of energy he got when he saved someone or dodged death for the seventh time that week. He missed the excitement. The only thing stopping him from going back was his family. He didn’t care about the superhuman regulatory laws, he just had to keep his family safe. Even if it meant he couldn’t be Iron Man anymore.

Tonys children had never gotten to know what it was like to be a superhero. They never knew why Tony so desperately missed it. They never had super friends, because of the mandatory secrecy. The only person outside of their family that they knew had powers was Pepper's old friend Carol. She could shoot bright energy out of her hands and glow and use the power to fly. She didn’t just secretly have powers though, she secretly got married to a non-powered woman. She was probably the coolest person the Starks ever knew.

Besides Carol, there was only one more person who knew about their little superfamily. James Rhodes. He didn’t have any powers but he was still Tonys longtime best friend. Rhodey was a military man who could be hit with the weirdest shit but still stay logical. He always had a fire extinguisher with him after Pepper had a cold and almost sneezed the house on fire.

So, an ordinary family in an ordinary world. Fortunately soon the world would need extraordinary people again. Whether they knew it or not.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Superheroes and supervillains may be gone but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t an evil out there. It just meant that the world concurring was much slower and more malicious. Non-powered individuals were afraid of their more evolved counterparts. There was a group of these kinds of people that hid in the shadows ever since superhumans were discovered. They called themselves HYDRA.

They had whispered in the ears of the world governments for decades and were the ones to force the supers into hiding. But that wasn’t all. Superhumans were going missing. Even some of the Starks old teammates. The Winter Soldier, James Barnes, was one of them. Along with Scarlet Witch (Wanda Maximoff), Black Widow (Natasha Romanoff), and worst of all, The Hulk, Tony’s friend Bruce Banner.

Needless to say, the disappearances didn’t go unnoticed. Tony and Pepper started to get paranoid. They kept in near constant contact with Carol and even though Harley could drive, Pepper always picked her boys up from school. Tony started a project, just in case something happened, so that they would be ready. But they had no idea what they were up against. Who could capture some of the strongest supers on the planet without even a trace? Who would even want to try to capture the Hulk? To Tony that was practically suicide.

The kids weren’t aware of what was happening and Tony wanted to keep it that way. Let them worry about school and allowances and not the fact that there was practically an anti-superhuman organization out there connected to the vanishing of dozens of their kind. Unfortunately, Tony’s kids had inherited his brilliance. They also had access to the news just like their parents had.

After years of being forced to hide their powers, they found a reason to be afraid to have them. Because people just like them were going missing and the non-powered government wasn’t planning on doing anything about it. They were unfortunately unlucky enough to live in a world where it was more illegal to save someone with their powers than to be behind major hate crimes towards supers.

It took one more of Tony’s super friends to go missing before he stopped sitting on his ass to just watch. He had to actually do something about this. Someone had abducted Thor. THOR! The guy was a literal god and some unpowered piece of shit managed to get him too. Some morbid curiosity made him wonder how they were even able to do it. In fact, how were they even able to do it to any of the heroes they had taken? Tony suspected that they had something on their side that made them actually able to… take down the most powerful of them. The idea sent a shiver up his spine.

Tony had closed the shop for the day but still left early in the morning as if he was just going to work as normal. He kissed his wife goodbye and she seemed to suspect he was up to something but didn’t have time to figure it out because Peter still wasn’t awake for school goddamnit, and Tony left without a hitch.

It wasn’t hard to get into a highly secure government building, at least with his technopathy. He just had to wave his hand in front of the keypad and it lit up green and let him in. All he had to do was not get seen by a real person. Or he could just pass off like he belonged there. It wasn’t too hard with the dapper suit he had changed into before going in. His sunglasses were as much of a mask as the metal one he had locked in storage.

He just waited for the highest ranking official to need to go to the bathroom and snuck into the man's office. It only took a slight touch on the clunky computer for information to flood Tony’s brain. Of course, it took a moment for Tony to know that it had been too easy for a reason. A little red light blinked urgently at the corner of his vision and he sent one last message before the electricity hit him. After a moment of immeasurable pain, his vision went dark.

Pepper was in the middle of cooking when she got the message. She looked at the little device that Tony had made her after Natasha had gone missing, he had said that it was only for emergencies and she felt her heart stop when she noticed that it had gone off. She didn’t take time to wash her hands or anything before she picked the device up to read what it said.

It was a long string of numbers and at the end was the words, ‘Superhuman Containment Facility’ Peppers blood went cold which with her powers was incredibly rare. She knew he wouldn’t have used the communication device to send it to her unless he was in trouble. Her body must’ve betrayed her secrecy because Peter seemed to notice.

“Mom? Are you okay?” He looked up at her with his big brown eyes, he had just been doing his homework on the dining room table when she got Tony’s message. With his enhanced senses, nothing got past him. He always knew when something was wrong.

“Yeah,” she lied, “Something just came up, I have to… get something taken care of… How about you order a pizza, I’ll leave a twenty…”

“Mom.” Peter interrupted, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” She lied again, “I’ll be back late…” Peter squinted his eyes at her. But she had something more important to worry about. Before she didn’t know what it would take to get her back into her old life of hero-work, but her question was answered at a moments notice with the disappearance of her husband.

“Is dad in trouble?” Peter asked innocently.

“Probably. I’ll take care of it.” She promised with a proud smile.

“What if Morgan develops her powers while you’re gone?”

“I seriously doubt that will happen. Can you hand me the phone? I need to make a call.” She requested and he tossed the plastic home phone to her. Peter looked at her as if he knew she was lying but was too polite to interrupt her while she made her call.

“Hey, Maria? It’s Pepper. Do you still have that jet?” Peters' eyes widened.

Carol had been a mixture of worried about Tony and excited to get back into hero-work when Pepper met them at their aircraft they’d hidden from the government in their concrete basement. Pepper knew that she couldn’t fly a jet but both Maria and her wife were more than willing to help her.

There wasn’t much hesitation to board the aircraft and enter in the coordinates that Tony sent her. Carol put on her old red and dark blue super suit with the gold eight-pointed star and thick stripes sprouting out of it going to her shoulders and red sash around her waist. Carol also had a helmet that tucked her hair into a mohawk and went around her eyes to properly protect her identity.

Pepper didn’t even think about getting her suit… She hasn’t worn it in so long… It probably didn’t even fit anymore. Protecting her identity had been the least of her concerns but it didn’t matter now. It was too late anyway.

Pepper left the cockpit to sort out her thoughts and attempt to make a plan but hushed whispers stopped her train of thought.

“Shut up! I can use it! Dad made it for me remember!”

“Dude she’s coming-”

She knew those voices. She honestly couldn’t say that she was surprised to hear them but she had been dreading it. She just hoped that they had an ounce of foresight and didn’t leave a budding super-toddler home alone. They were too much like their father, all impulsive selflessness and not a thought of consequences.

“Peter… Harley…” She said in her mother voice. The voices stopped and for a moment, everything was quiet. “I’m not an idiot I know you’re there.” After a second more of silence, there was a sigh and Harley, in a plain gold and black super-suit similar to the one Tony wore under his metal shell, walked out of a well hidden dark corner. Peter, in a red and blue super-suit with a spider insignia on the chest, dropped from the ceiling and landed without effort.

“Hi, mom…” The said in strangely perfect unison.

“I’m not mad… but did you at least get Morgan a sitter?” Pepper asked.

“Yeah, we’re not that irresponsible… Scott was nearby.” Harley explained.

“You got Scott? Like, Ant-Man Scott?”

“No, Laser-Vision Scott, or course Ant-Man Scott!” Harley said oozing with his father's sarcasm.

“Okay… How did you get those suits? Have you been holding out a sewing power or something?”

“I mean, I can sew a little but dad made these. I think he was scared because of all the super people disappearing.” Peter sighed. “He made one for you, we brought it.” he smiled and dug around in a duffle bag to pull out a white, gold and bright red flaming spandex super-suit. It was a little more flashy and glittery than her old one but honestly, Pepper had to admit it had style.

“Fine, family mission. But you guys have to promise to listen to me. If you stray from my instructions and get yourself hurt then I’ll ground you for life. Got it?” She ordered with as much authority as she knew they would listen too. Enough to know she was serious.

“Yes, ma’am!” Harley saluted dramatically with Peter rolling his eyes.

“We promise.” Her Spider-kid smiled, obviously not doing a good job hiding his excitement and fear of finally being able to be a superhero.

“This is serious, these guys won’t care if you’re a little young.”

“Yeah… I know… I’ve been waiting for this kind of thing forever. Not for dad to get kidnapped but… to actually use the weird shit I was born with.” Peter rambled.

“Well, don’t enjoy it too much. This isn’t a field trip.”

“Are we going to tell Aunt Carol that we’re here?”

“Shit… I should probably tell her that we have stowaways…”

“We heard everything Mrs. Stark,” Maria said loudly from the cockpit.

“Hey, kiddos!” Carol called from her seat.

“Hi, Aunt Carol!” Peter greeted cheerfully as they made their way to the cockpit holding their gay pilot aunts.

“If you guys put your seatbelts on, I’ll do a barrel roll-” Carol offered.

“No, you’re not.” Maria gave her wife a look. “This is a mission, not an amusement park.”

“Yeah… it’s time to be serious…” Harley said in an overly serious tone and straightened his back while folding his arms in an attempt to look ‘serious.’ Maria looked back at him with a raised eyebrow and Peter snickered in response. Pepper rolled her eyes and left to go to the onboard bathroom to change into her new suit. She felt like she was the only one worried about Tony but she knew that everyone dealt with stress in different ways. Including distractions.

The flight was only a few hours long, with the speed of the aircraft and the fact that the ‘superhuman containment facility’ was apparently in the middle of the Pacific Ocean between the edge of California and Hawaii. Not horrifically far away for a crazy fast aircraft.

Of course, a few hours of smooth flying meant that there was something coming. And this time, it wasn’t just Pepper’s paranoia. Before the radar even saw anything, Peter straightened up and looked around the window, looking for whatever was setting him off.

“Guys… something is coming…” He warned a full five seconds before the radar pinged with something approaching them head-on. After they cleared a clump of clouds, they saw what it was. A handful of small fighter ships were coming from the small island that was now in view. Pepper was almost completely sure that the island held her husband captive on it.

“Is everyone belted in? This rides ‘bout to get bumpy.” Maria warned as she helpfully pressed a seatbelt sign like this was a commercial flight that was going to experience a little bit of turbulence. Harley stumbled to a seat and Peter just held on, fully relying on his stickiness to keep him from shaking around the cabin like a maraca. Before Harley could fully fasten his seatbelt, Carol swerved the aircraft away from the fighter jet that had started to shoot at them.

Pepper caught Harley before he went hurling into the wall and everyone tried to stablized themselves as the jet went rolling to avoid the gunfire. Carol roared as she shot her own fleet of fire at them. She caught at least four fighter jets in the gunfire but the other six were fast enough to avoid it. Their aircraft was surprisingly nimble for being like ten times bigger than the fighter jets, but even Carol and Maria’s flying wasn’t going to be enough.

The biggest fighter jet shot a massive projectile at them and it took a swan dive, several rolls and a bunch of crazy flying techniques to realize that they couldn’t get the homing missile off of their tail. It was faster than them and no matter how fast they went. It was slowly approaching them with no hope of escape. Then, Pepper had an idea.

“Harley… you have to destroy it.” She realized.

“I’ve never worked with anything that big or far away…” His voice shook in the fear that they were about to get blown out of the sky.

“I know, but you can do it. You just have to focus as hard as you can.” Pepper said urgently. Harley closed his eyes and held his hand out to the back of the aircraft.

“I-I can’t-” His arm shook with the effort. They could vaguely hear the emergency call that Maria was directing towards the island tower, saying things like the fact that there were children on board and that they weren’t there to attack anyone. But it was no use. The missile just kept coming closer with the little red dot blinking more and more urgently.

“You have to!” Pepper said desperately. Harley tried but it was like he couldn’t get a hold of it. It was too much. It was like trying to climb up a steep waterfall. He just kept slipping and his muscles strained with the physical effort of at least trying not to fall. Thankfully, the closer it got, the more he was able to get a hold on it. Unfortunately, that also meant that it was getting closer to killing them all.

They were moments away from being hit when Harley finally got a hold of it and swiped his arm with the last bit of energy and got it off course. But not off course enough. It blasted through the left wing and tore a hole through the aircraft before exploding. Somehow, this didn’t kill everyone. Peter had held Harley down to keep him from flying off into the vacuum of air trying to rip them into a thousand feet of free fall.

This was the point where everyone seemed to realize that they couldn’t stay on the jet. It was a little too late for a rescue. Harley activated his suit and the metal plates came flying at him. Carol and Maria had gotten out of their seats and Carol had started to glow from head to toe. There was a lot of yelling that was being covered up by the thunderous sound of the air against the doomed aircraft.

The minute after that was chaos. At some point, Carol let herself be pulled out by the vacuum with Maria in her arms and catching herself with her power to fly once they were out of the crashing jet. Somehow Harley had done the same thing and had managed to figure out how to make the suit fly before he could fall to his death. He caught his mom before she could pummel to the unforgiving water below.

All that was left was Peter. The jet was losing altitude too fast for him to try to jump off and hope someone would catch him. He tried to think about what his suit could do but his panicked mind stumbled over thoughts like he was trying to run with twisted ankles. He couldn’t fly… he couldn’t- after a flurry of panicked thoughts, an idea thankfully stuck out to him. He climbed to the hole in the side of the aircraft and stuck himself to the outside of the jet as he made his way to the top. The wind threatened to rip him off but somehow he managed to crawl to the top of the plummeting aircraft.

When Harley had first found the suits when Pepper had left for their aunts, he also found the paper schematics with paragraphs of specific features in each suit and each little detail and Peter was pretty sure that he had seen something about web wings. They weren’t actual wings but being able to glide would be a whole lot better than falling like a comet to the ground. The problem was, he couldn’t remember how to activate them. He had gotten the suit a few hours ago and had not used his time on the jet to figure out how to work his suit out.

He crouched on the top of the jet with the rough wind hitting him with all its might. And he did something stupid. He took a breath and he leaped into the air. The wind immediately swept him far away from the crashing jet and he spent a horrifying second thinking that he just doomed himself even more than he already did. But as he extended his arms, the web wings popped open and caught the wind like a kite.

His spider-sense reminded him that he wasn’t safe and he shakily adjusted his body as a convenient gust of wind hit him and raised him higher for a perfect moment. He landed on the glass of the fighter jet that was following the crashing ship and he wasted no time in breaking it. He threw out the person inside after taking a short moment to check and see if the bad guy had a parachute or not. He did. So Peter didn’t feel too bad throwing him out of his jet.

With his spider-sense, piloting a fighter jet was weirdly easy. All he had to do was steer and play ratatouille with his sense buzzing when he was about to do something wrong. He managed to relatively gently crashland on the island without being followed and quickly distanced himself from the crash. The problem was, now, he was completely alone. And it was just as scary as being stuck in a jet with its wing ripped out.

Well, that wasn’t good.

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