#I spent my last shift trying to put the characters into a lab work au and it still worked

[pastelchad]

Sekaiichi hatsukoi is so much fun bc the tyrannical boss who takes their job way too seriously and the new employee who doesn’t know a damn thing is such a relatable concept and you can plop the entire cast into whatever au you want and it would still work just as well

[shining-red-diamond]

Ch. 21: Fighting Gravity

Cast of Characters//Ch. 1//Ch. 2//Ch. 3//Ch. 4//Ch. 5//Ch. 6//Ch. 7//Ch. 8//Ch. 9//Ch. 10//Ch. 11//Ch. 12//Ch. 13//Ch. 14//Ch. 15//Ch. 16//Ch. 17//Ch. 18//Ch. 19//Ch. 20//Ch. 21//Ch. 22//Ch. 23//Ch. 24//Ch. 25//Ch. 26//Ch. 27//Ch. 28 (coming soon)

Words: 1.8k

Pairing: ATEEZ OT8 x OCs

Genre: Adventure, Pirate AU, Fluff, angst, slight suggestive themes

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries bug attacks, side effects from medicine, medical procedures, labor scare, falling out of the sky

A/N: Italics means they’re speaking Korean

It wasn’t long before the crew returned to the ship with the next piece in hand, and they covered the elephant’s trunk back to where they had found it before booking it to the ship. No one was out by the river, so they were able to sneak back to the ship without anyone else noticing. Mingi double checked that everyone was on board before gearing up the ship to take off towards Egypt, Grace-Anne stored the piece in her lab with the other diamond, and Dinah set up the shield as dark clouds thundered as they rolled in. Three members rushed to the medic as everyone else tried to clean themselves from their journey.

“It stings!” Hongjoong whined as Dahae and Yeosang treated his left arm. He had been the one to accidentally touch a crystal after dropping one of the notes. He was able to retrieve it, but not without getting attacked by the glowworms.

“Even the captain stumbles sometimes,” Yeosang sighs in sarcasm as he gives him an herbal shot to drink.

Hongjoong was about to comment back, but the bitter taste of the medicine restrained his tongue. At least it was a distraction for the stinging in his arm.

“It’ll keep you from getting an infection,” Dahae reassured him. “However, it’s possible that you’re gonna have some...frequent bathroom runs.”

“Like what?” the captain’s brow rose, his face still contorted in disgust from the bitter elixir. “Pooping?”

“It’s only a side effect, babe. It just flushes out any bacteria. An infection from those glow worms can cause intestinal issues as well if the poison gets deep into the bloodstream.”

Hongjoong sipped on some water to wash down the bitter herbal taste. “Diarrhea I can deal with.”

“If you do end up having that side effect, it will only last about a few hours.”

The captain nodded and let his fiancée finish patching up his wound as Yeosang went to go check on San. Hongjoong just kept his eyes on Dahae, the pain in his arm becoming numb the less he paid attention to it. Three years of traveling the world and finding artifacts in dangerous territories, and she still stayed with him.

“How did I get so lucky?” he wondered out loud, a smile growing on his face.

“I should be asking the same thing,” Dahae giggled as she began to bandage his wound, her small hands working gently at it.

“I know I don’t say it often, but I’m so thankful to have you in my life.”

With a small smile, Dahae leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to his brow slit. “And I’m thankful for you.”

“I just hate putting you in danger with such adventures as this,” he sighed regretfully as she finished bandaging his arm.

Dahae met his eyes, cupped his face, and whispered, “There’s going to be danger with each adventure. If I hadn’t gone with you after that bar fight, I think my life wouldn’t be as exciting as it is now.”

Hongjoong leaned into her touch. “But what happens if I can’t protect you, or I...I lose you? Or something happens to me?”

“Then we’ll know that our adventures were spent together in love.”

Before they could share a kiss, they were both jerked by a force of gravity, causing them to bonk heads. Next, the lights went out, leaving them in near pitch darkness.

“Are you okay?” Hongjoong asked as he massaged his forehead.

“Yeah,” Dahae nodded as she went to go find the emergency flashlight. “What just happened?”

“I’m not sure.”

The captain didn’t hesitate to exit the medical wing to see the potential issue. Some parts of the ship still had electricity; but he knew something was wrong the moment he saw the worried look on Yunho’s face.

“One of the engines has stopped working,” he alerted frantically as he fumbled through his tool belt. “I have to go see what’s happened.”

“Hurry!” the captain ordered as he dashed to the deck.

The emergency alarm went off, alerting the crew to be prepared if the ship was going to crash if the engine couldn’t get fixed. Red lights flash, a color Hongjoong never wanted to see in an emergency context. Taeran and Phoebe rushed to the engine room to help Yunho, and Mingi was frantically checking his flight calculations to determine how to properly land in case the ship fell.

“Captain,” Yunho radioed in, “I’ve found the damage, and it can be fixed. Two wires were loose. However, it’s a bit of an arm’s reach.”

“Well, you’re tall,” Hongjoong retorted as he grabbed on to one of the safety bars. “Can’t you reach it?”

“The girls and I are trying, but we’ll work as quickly as we can.”

“Do what you can. I have faith in you three.”

The radio was switched off as Dahae rushed over to Hongjoong. Soon, the rest of the crew was rushing up the stairs to hold onto something as the force of gravity was shifting. Mingi was using all of his strength to keep the ship steady, but Jongho was quick to his aid to help him out. The HALA itself started to lower towards the earth and began to tip sideways as supplies on deck were sliding to the other end. The two men at the wheel were straining to keep everyone from a falling fate, causing the ship to begin to spin.

Some of the crew were starting to panic as shouts of cries and whimpers erupted. The captain himself almost felt like crying, but tried his best to comfort Dahae, who was now sobbing into his shoulder.

“MINGI, PULL!” Jongho screamed over the strong winds.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK I’M DOING?!” the taller man shouted back.

The captain looked up to see what could be done to slow down the spinning, and he noticed that one of the sails wasn’t open. Immediately, he jumped up and waved for Seonghwa and Yeosang to follow him, all three of them fighting gravity to get to the sail box.

The HALA was starting to rock a little as Dahae screamed, “HURRY!” She held onto the railing so tightly that her knuckles were turning white as cotton linen. San was doing his best to shield his wife and the baby within her; and Dinah, Wooyoung, and Grace-Anne slid over to huddle with Dahae. Mingi and Jongho were both red as beets and equally running out of energy just trying to keep the ship steady.

The blaring alarm seemed to pound in Hongjoong’s head as he bearcrawled to the post. He wasn’t about to go out with his crewmates like this. Heating the love of his life scream in panic pierced his heart so much that it gave him a boost of adrenaline. Hongjoong lunged at his target; his first mate, and his quartermaster reached the sail post. Together, they ripped open the metallic built-in box, and punched in the emergency sail code.

At that moment, the ship slowed its spinning and came to a stop just before they could crash into some forestry. The sails dropped, and they began to ascend into the clouds again.

Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Yeosang all sighed in relief as the center of gravity steadied.

“Are you okay, captain?” Yeosang asked. “You look pale.”

“I’ll be okay,” Hongjoong promised as he looked back towards his crew. “Is everyone alright?”

The three women that were huddled slowly stood and smoothed each other’s hair and clothing out, but with a nod they reassured the captain they were unharmed. Wooyoung was trying to regain his balance, as he was prone to get dizzy easily; and Mingi and Jongho were catching their breaths. San, on the other hand, was still holding his wife and whispering something to her. Celestia was sobbing hysterically.

“This can’t happen!” she sobbed. “This can’t happen!”

Dahae and Yeosang rushed over to her to see what had happened, and San, a concerned expression on his winded face explained that Celestia thought that she was about to go into labor from the whole fiasco. She panicked at the thought of being whipped around would harm the child developing within her.

“Let’s get her to the medical wing,” Dahae suggested.

San didn’t hesitate to scoop his crying wife into his arms, shushing her and attempting to calm her as he carried her.

Hongjoong turning his radio back on. “Yunho, what’s happened?”

“We got the engine fixed with a little teamwork. Phoebe got on my shoulders to reach the wire, and Taeran kept us all steady.”

“Good job, guys. Take a rest.”

-

Heartbeats.

Loud and clear.

“She’s okay,” Dahae smiled comfortingly.

The doppler picked up Baby Choi’s heartbeat, and it was beating at the pace it was supposed to.

“Thank you,” Celestia sniffed, her head leaning against her husband’s chest. San kissed her head, his way of telling her he was always there to protect her.

“Again, sorry that you had to go through all of that,” the medic nervously chuckled as she helped Celestia up and handed her a tissue to dry her eyes.

“It’s not your fault.”

“None of us knew that was going to happen,” San chimed in.

“Well, you two better go ahead and rest. We should be in Egypt by tonight.”

Once the bride and groom were out of the room, Dahae huffed back into her chair. First her fiancé nearly gets his arm eaten by worms, then the ship starts falling from the sky causing major panic over the crew, not to mention the inside of the ship needing to go through a major clean-up. Dahae loved going on these adventures, but this one was getting more and more tedious and dangerous.

Her fingers massaged the massive headache from the stress of it all. Another heavy sigh escaped her mouth.

“Only the second stop,” she groaned, “and it gets worse as we go.”

“Tell me about it,” Yeosang agreed as he sweeped up broken syringes. “What’s next? Someone breaks their arm from a sarcophagus falling over?”

“Don’t jinx it.”

She knew it was only a joke, but Dahae didn’t have any energy left to laugh.

“Hey, how about I clean up here?” Yeosang offered.

“Are you sure?” His fellow medic raised an eyebrow.

“You and Hongjoong have both looked exhausted since the ship came back to normal. Go rest.”

Dahae could see the dark circles under Yeosang’s eyes. He was just as tired, but he was willing to take up for others when he could. That was the thing Dahae admired most about her friend: he put others first. Especially now that he had Phoebe in his life, he had dedicated helping her with her grandfather’s medical bills. She was a match for him as she was  willing to help him pay to go back to medical school if he ever decided to.

“Alright,” Dahae agreed as she rose from her seat. “Have a good night.”

-

@actuallythatwaspromise​ @barsformars​ @not-majestic-bluenicorn​ @philosopher-of-fandoms​ @lilhwahwa​ @sweetheart--sannie​ @hongism​ @ethereal-eirene​ @ateezlovenet​ (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)

[sweetchup]

A Helping Hand

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: Savior Au. Normal Au.

Word count: 5,300+ (oof, Shalnark fans are going to be well fed)

Warnings: Spoliers from Manga Chapter 357+, Blood/gore, Cursing, Bad Coworker, Character Death, PTSD, Slight Angst, Fluff, I’m not a doctor and even if I did research not everything here is going to be accurate and correct

Author note: Honestly, I should’ve spent today working on my 100 follower special but I accidentally had a intresting thought after watching the phantom troupe fighting chimera ants. So... I grew back my love for smiley boi Shalnark and I had a thought about an intresting scenario. So, you ended up with this.

(Pt.2)—>

“You on your dinner break, (Y/n)?” Evan, your coworker says. You watch as he leans over the counter of the desk of the intensive care unit and raises an eyebrow at you as you chew on your taco salad. You squint your eyes at the man and gesture to your salad, like “seriously it’s obvious”. Evan laughs but soon let’s out a groan and stretches.

“You okay?” You say sloppily due to you still eating your salad. Afterall, you only had half an hour allowed to eat dinner before going back to work.

“Eh. Rough shift.” Evan says and Groans again as his hand massages over a specific muscle on his shoulder, “Did you hear about the situation down at Heaven’s Arena?”

You shake your head, you hadn’t heard anything today due to the number of patients you had to attend to in the intensive care unit. It was usually pretty crazy here after all. Though, there are some pretty bad cases that come into the emergency department as well, which Evan worked at, especially from Heaven’s Arena. So this wasn’t anything usual.

“Basically, there was a death match between floor masters Hisoka Morow and Chrollo Lucilfer.”

“Yeesh, so one of them came in still half alive?” You mumble, cringing at the thought. You dislike the brutality of what happens at some of the floors. It just wasn’t needed most of the time, especially with what almost happened to a boy named Gon, who Evan took care of.

“No. Worse. One of them manipulated most of the crowd and blew up the top floor so we have multiple casualties being rushed in.”

“Well, shouldn’t you be there right now?”

“Just got off shift. I’m staying, of course, just in case, but I’m waiting for them to check with the supervis—“

“Just wheel him out of here! He’s practically brain dead already!!” A screech resounds around the Intensive Care Unit as a slam of door comes after.

“But, Miss—“

“No! I said to pronounce him dead.”

You and Evan whip your head around to see what the yelling about, but you soon cringe as you see who it is. It was Sala Monodo, one of the head surgeons in charge of the Emergency Department. She was a really good surgeon but a greedy and nasty woman, along with one of the reasons why you switched from the Emergency Department to the intensive care unit.

You mumble a “what the fuck..” under your breath and place down your salad. Of course it would be this bitch to deny the ambulance crew to treat a still alive patient.

You rush around the counter and to the ambulance workers that had rolled the person down the hallway. Dale, an older worker of the Ambulance crew of the hospital, recognizes you and lets out a sigh of relief.

“Dale. What’s the situation?” You say, speed walking and examining the patient still on the stretcher. Man, this guy was in terrible condition. He was a young blonde haired man with blood just gushing from his nose. So much so he might even die from blood loss. It also didn’t help that he had lacerations and bruises on his wrists. Was this patient also caught up at the mess at Heaven’s Arena? No… there’s no burns which would have happened if he was part of an explosion.

“Young man, about mid-twenties, found hanged by his wrist at the playground downtown. No ID on him or info found in our Database. We do have a hunter’s License but that will take a while for Identification….”

Crap… that’s not good. Now, you don’t know if he takes any medication or if he’s allergic to any. On top of that we also don’t know his blood type or any past medical conditions, which will probably be useful in this situation.

“Our main problem is it seems he has a severe to moderate traumatic brain injury. Which is causing bad swelling of the brain. Along with a troubling possibility of damage to his spinal cord but that is still unconfirmed. We—“

“Dale, his heart stopped!” One of the other ambulance workers says. Fuck, that is the last thing we need right now. You quickly jump on top of the man on the stretcher as it continues to be wheeled and begin to give chest compressions.

“Dale, wheel—“ “What the hell are you doing?!?”

You glare towards Sala, still not stopping the chest compressions. “I said mark him as deceased! We are at max capacity in the Emergency room!”

You raise an eyebrow at the woman as Evan, who had sprinted over as well, jaw drops to the floor. Was this bitch serious? He’s still alive! He was breathing up until a couple of seconds ago. It also didn’t help that he needed to get him to the emergency room and you had no time to waste arguing with her. You know what… this will probably get you fired but oh well.

“Mal!” You shout as loud as you can for the Front desk women at the Intensive Care Unit. Mal, an older woman, runs out as fast as she can from a back room nearby, causing the door to slam against the wall. “Sign this patient under my name! We don’t have any identification yet so just roll with a description.”

Mal nods her head and runs in the direction of the front desk.

“You can’t do that!! He’s my patient so I say what happens!” Sala says screeching like a banshee at you. She chucks papers at you, probably the files to name this unknown man deceased. You only chuckle at her and give her a taunting look.

“Well, according to the paperwork, he’s a patient of the intensive care unit. So he’s mine now and I’m going to prove you wrong by making sure he lives.”

Sala goes to rebut but you cut her off. “Evan, pick up the papers she threw! Dale, take a blood sample and run it to the lab! I want his blood type and anything unusual. You two, wheel me to room 12, I’m going to need to get this man stable before we do a CAT scan on him.”

The other two ambulance personnel nod and turn you to that direction. Sala, unfortunately, is still chasing after you, not wanting to let this go. You give her a glare because you honestly don’t have time for this. You had just finished your thirty chest compressions so you need to give him air, fast.

Taking two fingers and you push the man’s head back to open his airway. Carefully, you put your lips on his, trying to not cringe at the sudden wetness and taste of blood, and give him two rescue breaths. You mentally sigh in relief as you watch his chest somewhat rise up at each of your breaths. That meant his airway thankfully wasn’t blocked and you could give him oxygen. Though it wasn’t lifting as much as usual which told you there was either a problem of the amount of blood blocking his airway or some being in his lungs.

You pull away from the man’s lips, yours tainted a little scarlet from his blood. You thankfully, as you lift up, lock eyes with a security personal and gesture to Sala. “Get this wacko out of here now! We have a situation!”

The security nods and grabs onto Sala who screeches and tries to fight back. Now that that was taken care of you can finally get this guy stable.

As the two ambulance personnel finally wheel you into room 12, you tell and gesture at them to leave and go. After all, they still had calls to get to and you had plenty of nurses who could help you out in a situation like this.

They thanked you and sprinted out, making sure to not bother you. Ok, so now that no one that was unauthorized was here you could try to see if you could use your Nen to try and stable him. Pulling your hands up, you close your eyes and focus. Focusing on sensing the blood in his body. Crap, your worst nightmare was true. There was blood blocking the airway through his nose and some in his lungs. Along with a conformation of swelling and too much blood in his brain. You now realize you can’t wait for a CAT scan or any other nurses to rush over here. You need to treat this man now or he will 100% be unable to be saved.

Taking some scissors from the metal tray, you carefully cut off the man’s purple tunic like shirt and his black undershirt. You throw the scissor back into the tray and put your hands in the middle of the man’s bare chest. Your heart was thumping out of your chest at the thought of not being quick enough. Come on (y/n), focus. This isn’t the time. You need to manipulate the unnecessary blood out of his body.

Taking a deep breath in, you run your hands up the man’s chest, around his neck and finally to his lips and nose. You slowly open your eyes and lift your hands away. You watch as blood in bubble-like shapes float out of the man’s nose and mouth. Swirling them all around in the air until it’s in a perfect droplet, you bend the blood over to a dish and drop it in it. Man, were you glad that you stuck to your gut and told your sensei you were going to manipulate blood. He didn’t think it was a smart choice but hey, suck it Sensei Matt. Look at how useful it is now.

After you made the blood clot the open wounds of the nose, all you had to do now, since there was no longer a risk of him drowning in his own blood or his airway possibly being blocked, you just needed to reduce the amount swelling to the brain and bring fresh oxygen throughout everything in his body to keep him alive.

Ok, you take a deep breath and raise your shaky hands. You can do this. All you needed to do was manipulate his blood throughout his whole body like a normal cycle, manipulate the blood in his heart to pump, and give him 2 rescue breaths every 30 cycles until he is stable or until blood tests come back. You can… You clench your hand in determination. No, you will do this.

————🚨📱🚨————

“What do you mean I’m wrong!?!”

You sit there rubbing your temples as you watch as one of the directors of the hospital sighs and explains how I'm not in trouble, to Sala, again. You lightly lean back in your chair and try to drown out the chaos in front of you.

It has been about a month since the incident with the 25 year old man, Shalnark, that got admitted to the hospital. Thankfully, you found out his name and age from the Hunter Association a week ago. Though it took them way too long to give it to you guys in your opinion. Along with the fact they didn’t give it to you personally and instead the department. Which gave Sala the opportunity to snoop and learn his name in order to try and get you in trouble with the Higher ups. But, it seems, due to what is going on right now, her plan has backfired. Though why wouldn’t it?! She denied a still alive man that you saved.

Afterall, Shalnark was now stable and on his way to recovering, thanks to your efforts. Though, he was currently in a coma. A big problem since you didn’t know how long he would stay that way either. But, at least since Shalnark is a skilled Nen user so he is able to heal pretty quickly and you hoped he would be able to be out of his comatose state between the next week to month. Since it seemed to be caused by brain damage.

So far while he was under your watch, with your blood manipulation you were able to heal and not cause scar tissue for most of the nerves in his spine and brain so he wouldn’t suffer from any permanent damage and be back to normal. Well…, not off the bat, he would still have to go through a lengthy recovery. One being doing some serious physical therapy sessions since he would still have to relearn a lot of his movements.

You take a sigh. Why are you worrying about this now? Well… it was probably due to the fact when you were washing him up after you saved him you saw his tattoo. A twelve legged spider. The symbol of loyalty to the phantom troupe. You haven’t told anyone, after all that would jeopardize his recovery and send hunters flooding in to try and kill him. Though—

The door suddenly slams open, startling everyone in the room. You quickly turn to see Evan, clearly out of breath, standing there.

“I’m…” Evan wheezes suddenly, “I’m so sorry Sir! But I need to tell (y/n) something. It’s important!”

The director nods his head, “Go right ahead. But, she can’t leave the room until the meeting ends.”

“Of course sir!”

Evan turns to you and smiles like a mad man. You just raise an eyebrow. What the fracking hell. Did Evan put crack cocaine in his coffee this morning or something?

“(Y/n). Shalnark is awake!”

Your jaw drops to the floor and you frantically stand up. “R-really? How’s he doing?!”

You take a gulp as you feel your throat tighten. You were scared to hear what Evan has to say. Afterall, Shalnark is the patient you have spent the most time with out of all of every patient you have ever taken care of. Mostly due to the fact he was in such a bad condition at first but, eventually, due to how you had grown attached to really wanting him to make a full recovery.

“He’s okay. He’s in a minimalistic conscious state so he’s very confused and unsure of what’s going on.”

“I-I need to check on him then. Sir, I’m sor—“

The director raises his hand to stop you from continuing and stands up. He quickly grabs some sheets of paper and hands them out to you, a small smile on his face. “No need to apologize. Just take these and go.”

“Thank you Sir!”

You take them and bow before the man. Quickly, not even bothering with taking the elevator, you rush over to the intensive care unit. Finally there, you catch yourself on the door of room 12, almost slipping past it and falling.

Panting, you look into the room to see Shalnark moving around frantically as male nurses try to hold him down. Sure, it wasn’t the best scene to see but it was at least a relief to finally see his eyes open and that he could move around.

You start to approach the bed causing one of the male nurses to notice and yell at you, “Doctor (l/n), I don’t think it’s a good idea! He crushed one of the nurse’s hands when he first woke up.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” You say as you finally reach the side of his bed. “Shalnark. I need you to calm down for me.”

“W-who?!” Shalnark looks around frantically but is cut off by his own wheezing. You lean over to examine his eyes and see that they are harshly dilated. So, that’s why he is hostile, he probably can’t even see.

Hesitantly, you reach over and grab the Shalnark’s hand. You squint your eyes and grit your teeth as you know what's going to happen next. You flinch as Shalnark squeezes down and breaks your hand.

Shakily, you hold up your other hand and signal the male nurses to let go of him. As soon as they let go, Shalnark frantically looks around due to being unable to see them and not knowing where they went.

“Shalnark.” You grab the man’s attention and he turns to you. You pause and take a harsh inhale as he squeezes a bit more on your hand. He might be hostile and seem angry but you can feel his hand shaking as he holds in a death grip, telling you he was confused and frightened. “Shalnark. My name is (y/n) (l/n) and the doctor that was assigned to taking care of you in the Intensive Care Unit. I apologize that I suddenly caught you off guard and touched you. You’ve been out for quite some while and had some pretty harsh injuries so I was concerned and didn’t think of the consequences. I’m not sure if you can hear or understand me but could you let go of my hand as a sign you can?”

The room goes silent as you and the other staff wait for his response. Thankfully, Shalnark hesitantly lets go of your hand.

“Thank you. Now I’m just going to put the bed into an upright position so I can examine you. I don’t want you moving your head back and forth anymore due to your injuries so I’m going to have one of the nurses bring you a cup of water so you can speak. I’m going to touch your hand, can you please squeeze it to confirm if you think you can drink some water? If not, you can take your hand away.”

You softly reach over with your non-broken hand and hold onto his. You wait for a couple of seconds before you feel Shalnark lightly squeeze down on your hand. Looking over, you nod to the nurse who grabs a cup of water and walks over.

“The nurse has a cup of water. You can’t see right?”

Shalnark squeezes your hand again.

“Ok. I’m just going to take your hand and place it on my arm. I’m going to help you drink the cup of water. Just squeeze to let me know when you have enough.”

You softly put the edge of the cup to Shalnark’s lips. You were being very careful when tilting it upwards so you don’t spill water or give him too much at once. Shalnark thankfully drinks every single last drop, though you had expected that after all it had been nearly a month since he last drank anything.

You take the empty cup away. “Can you talk, Shalnark? I don’t want to give you too much water just in case your stomach can’t handle it.”

Shalnark clears his throat a couple of times. “Y-yes… yes.”

You watch his face carefully. His speech isn't slurred and his face wasn’t lopsided, which thankfully told you the parts of his brain that deal with conversations and the movements in his face were functioning normally. You would definitely have to treat Betty to dinner for agreeing to help you by fixing his nose and taking out the scar tissue in his face and nose.

“Good. Now, I’m just going to examine you…” you trail off at the end as you are surprised. When you went to move, it caused him to lose the grip on your arm. He frantically reaches around and grabs onto your hand, thankfully not the broken one. How weird. “Are you okay?”

“Ah.” Shalnark seems embarrassed and conflicted with himself for a second, “I just can’t see. I-it’s weird and…”

“Oh. If it’s reassuring you are allowed to hold onto my hand if you want to.”

Shalnark lets out a small thank you, it’s hard to hear but you don’t press into him about it. “Well, I’m going to first test the feeling in your body. I’m going to put a little pressure on each part of your body and I want you to say if you feel any pain or not. You don’t have to move or anything, just let me know. Also, you should probably close your eyes, after all you can’t see which tells me there's a brain injury and the bright light might end up giving you a big headache later.”

Patiently, you watch as Shalnark closes his green eyes. You almost felt sad that you couldn’t see them anymore but you shake away that thought. You need to take care of him first, not worry about trivial things.

————🚨📱🚨————

“Ok so that was the last of the tests. Honestly, you’re in pretty good condition regarding your situation Shalnark.” You say as another doctor wraps your broken hand. God, Nen was always super convenient in pretty much any medical case. You didn’t even have to get stitches or surgery for your hand! Only wrapping and a warning to try to not use it too much.

“Ah I see. H-How long do you think I’ll be here for?” Shalnark says, his eyes still closed as he fidgets with your other hand. He’s been doing that for quite some time, you wondered if maybe he was nervous.

“Hmm. That’s tough to say since we don’t really have any other parts of your medical history. But, an educated guess? I would probably give you a week or two to solve the head trauma symptoms and to introduce your body back into normal food and fluids. Then, during that time and maybe a little after, I’m going to help get your arm and legs back to functioning. Finally, you will probably start some physical therapy so you can relearn how to move and make sure everything is okay. So I would say 2-3 months? Though, it might take shorter or longer depending on the way your body adapts.” You say, letting go of Shalnark’s hand to write a prescription down and handing it to the other doctor who had just finished wrapping your arm, “Derek, do you think you could run this to Mal? I’m going to need some ibuprofen for both me and him.”

“Sure thing. Need anything else?”

“Nope that’s all. Thank you.”

The door clicks lightly as Derek exits the room. You let a drag out sigh. Man, what a crazy day it was today. Almost the craziest you’ve ever had. Oh! You almost forgot. You stretch out your body like a cat from your chair to grab the papers on the counter. You completely forgot the papers that the director had given you. Let’s see…

“(Y/n)?”

You let out a humm to Shalnark to let him know you were listening.

“So, were you the one to take care of me this whole time?”

“Yep.” You flick to the next page.

“Did you happen to help me… get dressed? Bathe me?”

You turn the other page over. “Yes. Usually the nurses do it but, due to your condition, I was the only personnel trusted to do it. Don’t worry though, it’s something we do often in intensive care.”

You pause in your reading as you feel the air shift around you. You slowly look up and towards Shalnark, who for the first time since he woke up, smiled at you. A seemingly nice closed eyed smile. Though, you could tell it was anything but nice.

“You didn’t happen to see anything suspicious on my back, right?”

Ah. So that’s why. “No. I did. You're talking about the twelve legged spider tattoo, right?”

The air grows thicker around you two and you go back to looking through your papers.

“Though no one else knows, neither does it say it in your medical records. Though, I didn’t put a record for you here in the first place.”

The air suddenly stops being tense and clears up. You look up slightly from your paper before looking back down as you see Shalnark was completely blank faced. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t put a record. You had one when you entered but I deleted it. It’s one of the many privileges you have since you have a Hunter license.”

“I know that. But, why doesn’t anyone else know? K…” Shalnark pauses for a moment, seeming to try and calm himself down, “Kortopi is dead and the police should be knocking down the door to interrogate me. Also, you know I’m part of the troupe. You should be contacting the bounty hunters and collecting the A-List bounty for my head.”

You let out a sigh and place the papers down on the bed sheet.

“Well I am a Hunter. I took the 284th Hunter’s Exam.” You cringe as you feel the room get tense again and some of Shalnark’s bloodlust leaks out. “Not that sort of Hunter. I would kill myself if I ever be came a jackpot hunter or a bounty hunter. I don’t care about money, fame or whatever.”

You take a pause and sigh again. “The Bounty Hunters or Police won’t be questioning you at all. Your friend’s tattoo was never found and I used my license to stop the police and the Hospital from thinking of questioning you or collecting any info. So, you can rest easy that you aren’t being track”

The air seems to calm down but only a little bit before it gets even tenser than before. You looked up stunned as you heard a crash and see that Shalnark had thrown something at the counter with an angry face. “Why? Huh!? Just turn me over and leave me to die! Take your reward and go! I don’t want your—“

“Will you calm down for one second!?” You yell out, breaking your composure for the first time in front of him. “If I really wanted to turn you in I would have a month ago. I don’t care for money at all! The reason…”

You trail off at the end and clench your fist. Memories of your past flashing through your thoughts. Getting all tangled with your emotions, making it harder to think. You take a deep breath and calm yourself down.

“The reason I became a Hunter is to help people, no matter who it is or what has happened. If I told anyone, and I mean anyone about who you are, that would jeopardize you getting better. I’m not turning back on a promise I made, no matter if you're part of the troupe or not, you're still my patient and I’m going to make sure you make a full recovery.”

The room goes silent and you neaten up your papers before standing up. The chair makes a harsh screech against the cold tile floors. You pause before you take a step and turn to Shalnark. His head dropped so you couldn’t see his expression. “I just read the documents my director gave me. Due to the incident with emergency care, the hospital is going to pay all of your medical bills and I’m going to have less to no patients so I can watch and take care of you during my shifts so you can make a whole recovery. It’s now the night shift so I’m officially off the clock and I’m going to go home but if you need anything you can press the button on your bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You walk away from the bed and clutch your hand onto the cold door knob. Man, what a depressing way to end this. You usually could handle anything that was thrown at you, maybe you need a better night’s sleep. You haven’t been sleeping well lately after all.

“(Y/n).”

You pause your movements at Shalnark’s voice, the door somewhat still open. You almost don’t hear the next thing he says but your eyes widen as you do.

“Please. Please don’t go.”

It wasn’t that you hadn’t expected it. It was just that Shalnark’s voice sounded so small. So frightened. Like a kitten stuck out in the freezing rain. Something you hadn’t ever heard from a citizen of Meteor city and something you didn’t think you would ever hear from a member of the Phantom Troupe. A notorious gang of thieves. You slowly close the door and turn around to him.

You can’t see Shalnark’s face as you walk over to him. Slowly, you grab onto his face and turn him to look at you. You feel his face shaking in your hand and you see him clenching his eyes shut.

You hadn’t even thought of it before now. You hadn’t even thought of the possibility. But now it makes sense. He was easily startled, something that shouldn’t be easy for a thief or criminal. He was constantly on guard before examining him, during and after. He only smiled once and often spaced out. He got randomly and suddenly aggressive at times. And most importantly, he continually avoided the subject of what happened to him and when he finally told you, he didn’t remember important details of what happened. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t seen it before, Shalnark was showing classic signs of post traumatic stress disorder.

The problem is that you couldn’t do anything for it right now. Solutions for PTSD either need medications or therapy. And you currently can’t get him either. All you can hopefully do is find a way to calm him down and get him to sleep. You could talk to some of the other doctors and contact some therapist in the morning to help actually diagnose and help him, it was just too late at night for any of that right now.

“Shalnark.” You slowly rub your thumb soothingly up and down his face. His breathing hitches for a second before seeming to slowly begin to go back to normal. “I’m actually going to stay for the night. Is there anything, and I mean anything, I can do to help you?”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds and you stop rubbing his face.

“C-can you just keep on doing that?” Shalnark softly squeaks out.

“Of course. Anything else?”

“I’m… I’m good.”

“You sure? I’m going to be here the whole night so you can say anything.” It might seem weird to the average person to say anything again but you knew you needed to make sure. People with PTSD will commonly feel great feelings of guilt, shame or hopelessness and will close themselves off from people. So, you need to reassure at the beginning that Shalnark can ask you for anything and that he can trust you.

“Could…” Shalnark trails off, slightly fidgeting in front of you.

“It’s fine. You can say it. It won’t bother me.”

“Could. Could you like… hold me?”

You could tell based on how he was acting that asking for something like that was definitely not normal for him. Especially since he’s from Meteor City. Which from your experience don’t show most to any sign of affection or vulnerable feelings.

“Of course. I’m going to sit in the bed, okay?”

“Yeah…” Shalnark shuffles over, giving you room.

You slowly climb into the medical bed; it lightly creaking under your weight. Carefully you reach both hands, even your broken one, and hold onto him. You can feel him stiff under your touch and watch as he plays with and twitches his fingers.

“Shalnark. You are okay to hold me if you want. Just completely relax, No one is allowed to come into this room without my permission.”

Shalnark seems to finally break under your words and he uses his working arm to pull you into him. With some slight shuffling and moving, you are both finally comfortable and laying down. Shalnark was facing you, his face hidden in your neck as he held onto you like as if you were some sort of stuffed animal. You feel the man in your arms slowly begin to lull off to sleep as you run your fingers through his hair.

As you held the man in your arms in the dark room, you now knew that Shalnark’s recovery won’t take 3 months. Maybe physically but definitely not mentally.

But, you knew that as long as you stayed by Shalnark’s side and just helped him through it, it could be possible.

Slowly, you reach over and hold his hand in yours which he lightly squeezes back.

After all, all it takes is one helping hand.

[amandagaelic]

Fanfic Tag (bc, Sunday)

I was tagged by @waitingforthestarstofall and @disappearinginq who are two of my favorite enablers over here. And according to at least one of them, there are no rules in this game, which means my replying many moons later is all good (right?). 

Questions:

Ao3 Name: gaelicspirit (same on FF.net)

Fandoms: Supernatural, The Young Riders, White Collar, Hawaii Five-0, Sons of Anarchy (all only on FF.net), The Musketeers, Daredevil, Teen Wolf, Timeless, MacGyver, Magnum, P.I. (on both Ao3 and FF.net)

Number of fics: 75 (+ 1 WIP)

1. Fic you spent the most time on: From Yesterday

2. Fic you spent the least time on: Raincheck

3. Longest Fic:  From Yesterday   (286,050 words)

4. Shortest Fic: Sacrifice (2,315 words)

5. Most hits: Devil to Pay (on Ao3...no clue on FF.net)

6. Most kudos: Devil’s Own (huh, I’ve never compared these stats before...maybe I should write more Daredevil)

7. Most comment threads:  Devil’s Own (on Ao3), Ramble On (on FF.net)

8. Fave Fic you wrote: This is a toughie. I love them all when I’m writing them...I think maybe it’s a 3-way tie between War Scars, From Yesterday, and Conairt. The first two were as AU as I generally get (I’ve a tendency to be a bit canon-bound) and that was fun to explore possibilities with those characters, and the 3rd was basically the story I wanted to read but couldn’t find anywhere...so I wrote it myself. 

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Hmmm. I don’t know that I’d actually rewrite any of them. They exist in my mind the moment they’re being created and then once out there in the world for all to see, that’s who they are, scars and all. I have occasionally thought about expanding on my White Collar story, Fortunate Son to explore what happened next. Though, now that the show has ended, it would be 100% AU. I guess anything I would really want to take further would be a new story in and of itself, so it wouldn’t really count as “expanding” on it. 

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:

I started another MacGyver fic last weekend called “Hello to the Night.” I’m about 25K-ish words into it and still playing it out. It’s a bit of pandemic therapy for me, to be honest. It’s really hard to get out of my own head these days, it seems.  Premise: Set  around S4 episodes 9 and 10. Turns out emotional trauma + concussions + experimental drugs don’t mix quite as easily as one might think. Mac’s dark side does more than toss him a creepy grin from the other side of a window when getting “lost in his head” is taken up a notch.

Excerpt:

Another streak of light cut like a white-hot tracer bullet across the darkest part of the sky.

“You out here making wishes on shooting stars?” Bozer asked, tapping the back of his fingers into the palm of his opposite hand.

It caught his attention then that Mac was clad only in a T-shirt and shorts; it almost looked like they were the clothes he’d gone to sleep in, not grabbed for a planned midnight run.

“These aren’t stars,” Mac corrected him, his voice sounding strangely detached from the moment. “That light is caused by dust and rock falling through the atmosphere and burning up—happens when the Earth passes through a trail of debris left by a comet as it orbits the Sun.”

Bozer felt his mouth tug up in a reflexive grin. “Is that right?”

“My dad gave me my first telescope when I was eight,” Mac continued in the same, oddly modulated tone, as if he were speaking in a dream. “Showed me how to find the constellations, track comets. I took it apart one day and he wouldn’t help me put it back together again. Said I obviously needed to know how it worked, so I should figure it out.”

Bozer remembered that telescope. He remembered James MacGyver’s stern face as Mac worked to rebuild it from the collection of parts scattered around them in piles organized by size and use. He remembered fearing that face.

“I did, too. Figure it out.”

“Yeah, I know, man,” Bozer smiled, watching Mac watch the starts. He frowned a little when he saw a hard shiver chase its way through Mac’s slim frame, though the blond man didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s like they were mine, y’know?”

Bozer’s frown deepened. “What—”

“And for a little bit there, it felt like he gave them to me,” Mac continued as though Bozer hadn’t spoken. “Like the whole universe was mine because he let me see it. But…,” Mac shook his head, his eyes distant as they tracked down from the sky and skimmed the horizon in front of them. “Then he took them away. He took them with him when he left. And I can’t figure out how to get them back. I keep trying, but…they’re just…,” he looked back up at the night sky, “they’re so far away.”

Bozer reached out and rested his fingertips on Mac’s bare arm, flinching back a little when he felt how chilled his friend’s skin was. He couldn’t see it before, but with that touch he realized Mac was shivering consistently now.

“Hey, Mac, you okay, man?”

Mac blinked, looking down at Bozer’s fingers on his arm, then frowned. He glanced around him slowly, tracking over to his left until their eyes met.

“Bozer?”

“Yeah?”

“What…what are you doing here?”

Bozer blinked, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. He tightened his grip on Mac, wrapping his fingers around his friend’s forearm until he felt the other man’s shivers through the bones of his hand.

“I was looking for you,” Bozer said truthfully, trying to keep the worry from his voice as he watched Mac look around him, over his shoulder to where the Griffith’s domed building loomed in the shadows, then back across the dark horizon to the lights of Los Angeles. “You decide to go for a midnight run or something?”

Mac swallowed hard, reaching up with a trembling hand to rub at his forehead. Bozer recalled his tired voice claiming his headache had a headache earlier that day—no, last night—in the lab. He dropped his hand and looked around again and Bozer realized what he was seeing was a growing awareness and recognition—and it frightened him.

“What the hell are we doing out here?” Mac asked, his voice sounding thin, baffled.

“Mac,” Bozer gripped his arm tighter. “I found you out here.”

Mac looked at him, blue eyes cloudy with confusion. “What?”

“I found you, man.”

Mac darted his tongue out, wetting dry lips, his shivering increasing until Bozer saw his teeth start to chatter.

“I don’t…I don’t remember…,” he shook his head. “I don’t remember leaving the house.”

Bozer folded his lower lip against his teeth, biting it to keep whatever noise that wanted to escape a prisoner. “Well, how ‘bout we head back there now?”

Mac nodded shakily and moved to slide off the fence. Bozer saw in a split second the ground was too far below him for Mac to land safely. He thrust out his arm and braced his friend, swinging his leg back over the fence to the paved walkway and pulling Mac backwards with him. Mac scrambled to find his footing, standing on trembling legs as he gripped Bozer’s shoulders.

“Holy shit,” Mac took a stuttering breath as if he’d forgotten that was what his lungs were supposed to do, straightening slowly. “How the hell did I…?”

Bozer shook his head. “How about we don’t worry about that right now, huh?”

Mac nodded, his eyes still on the drop-off on the other side of the fence.

“C’mon, man,” Bozer turned Mac toward the parking lot, keeping one hand on his friend’s arm, the other on his lower back. “It’s late and I’m cold.” He wasn’t, but it was always easier to get Mac to act if he was doing so on behalf of someone else.

“Yeah,” Mac nodded. “Yeah, sure, of course. Boze, I’m—”

“Don’t,” Bozer pushed him gently forward. “Don’t worry about it, man. Yesterday was weird for everybody.”

“Yesterday?” Mac asked, the word tripping out on a faltering breath as his shivers increased.

Bozer pressed his fingertips harder into Mac’s lower back, feeling the corded muscles there tighten against the pressure. “Yeah, y’know…crazy DARPA drug, Tesla weapon….”

“That was yesterday?” Mac asked, blinking owlishly at him.

“Time flies when you’re trippin’, man.”

Mac didn’t reply and didn’t resist as Bozer continued to guide him toward the parking lot. He stumbled over his own feet—any coltish grace that once guided him having vacated in the wake of whatever this was. Bozer steadied him, noting that while Mac didn’t quite lean into him, he needed the support.

“Easy, man,” Bozer wrapped an arm around Mac’s slim waist, pulling him flush against his side. “You’re moving like me after a night of whiskey.”

“That…doesn’t sound good,” Mac returned in the same spacey, confused tone. “You make some pretty bad choices ‘cause of whiskey.”

As they reached the car, Bozer shifted his hip to keep Mac propped up, pulling the passenger door open and maneuvering his friend into the seat.

“Yeah, well,” he reached across Mac’s shivering form to fasten his seat belt, “in whiskey’s defense, I’ve also made some pretty questionable choices completely sober.”

Mac huffed a semi-amused chuckle, his head dropping back against the seat. Bozer jogged around the back of the car to climb behind the wheel.

“Let’s crank that heat up, how ‘bout—” Bozer stopped as he glanced over and saw Mac had quite literally passed out, head tilted against the window.

His hands lay lax in his lap, fingers curled toward his palms, the left one twitching in what looked like an attempt to reach out, but not quite getting there.

“Jesus, Mac,” Bozer breathed, turning up the heat anyway as his friend shivered even in his sleep. He shrugged out of his hoodie, draping it over Mac’s bare arms and t-shirt covered torso.

Tagging: Okay, if you’ve already been tagged--or literally have no interest in this--feel free to ignore. This is a bit of a free-for-all here. @thethistlegirl @impossiblepluto @flowing-river24 @panchostokes @nativestarwrites @beamirang @21forestglades @blazeofobscurity @angus-mac-intosh @purplecolouredglasses @writtenbyblair @dashboardonfire @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my @macgyverfever @thekristen999

[ibitchytimemachine]

Chapters: 53/? Fandom: Dragon Ball Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con Summary:

With Earth destroyed, Bulma and the Z gang find themselves in an outer space guerilla war against a tyrant. The mysterious Vengeance seems to be the only hope to win the war against Frieza, but teaming up with him brings its own set of problems.

 AU, ensemble cast but with focus on BV. Several other pairings (m/F and m/m) and non-romantic relationships get significant screen time.

While Vengeance often appears to be a light-hearted, funny story, there are darker elements running through several storylines. Warnings of non-con are for isolated incidents and don't reflect the story as a whole, but explicit descriptions of sex, violence, and general depravity are contained within these chapters.

Of all the Vegebul fics I have read, this one is easily my favorite. It has nuance, gives (almost) every character full and rich motivations and story lines. You find yourself rooting for the oddest pairs and weirdest people. I can not recommend this story enough, and if you wanna read my thoughts on it, lets dive into spoilers below the cut! 

So this story has something for everyone. You want thick well thought out and executed plot? DONE! Humor? DONE! Large cast of characters, both canon and OC who are all pretty well flushed out? DONE! Smut? Name your poison, chances are, its in here. There is so much about this story that I love that I am struggling with exactly the best way to organize my thoughts. So instead of agonizing over it, instead I am just gonna throw away all my careful notes that I have taken during my read and just freaking ramble! 

I think the first thing that people are a little put off on is the rare pair of RaditzXPuar. I will tell you that I 5,000 percent ship these two and it is all because of reading this fic. I love it so much that I MAY have even taken some time to draw my own fan art for the pair, but lets just leave THAT in the vaults xD When Raditz first encounters Puar, he is NOT a cat. Puar is in a Human form and is shifted to be Bulma. Raditz immediately is attracted to Puar’s scent and when they later encounter each other in a bar and end up ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ ) Ray is still just enamored by Puar’s scent. Whenever we see Rays POV in-between the time that Ray has fucked Human Puar, and the time that Puar is discovered, Ray keeps catching scents of the cat. And it drives him fucking wild. He later says that he is so crazy for Puar that he was about to fuck a houseplant cause it reminded him of Puar. Beyond that we get the backstory on Bonding and that basically Saiyans bond to a mate kinda at random so Ray has basically taken Puar as his husband. Raditz is really a great lover, there is a relationship imbalance between the two, but Ray doesnt take advantage of it. Its really a pretty healthy relationship. Puar gets jealous of some stuff, Ray gets WAY jealous of stuff but they always seem to talk it over. Shit at one point Ray dreams of having kids with Puar, and he is swiftly reminded that Puar is a MAN and will never be and never wants to be a WOMAN. 

A huge part of me feels like this Puarditz pairing is commentary on identity, self acceptance and love. Ray is constantly telling Puar that he doesnt care what his body looks like (except that he is excited to see Puar has a tail), only that it is Puar that he is in love with. It is only Puar Ray wants, no matter if he is a human, cat, plant, screwdriver or anything else. Puar talks about how he feels weird in his cat body, but it is his natural form and he wants to change and be bigger, more menacing, or just different. And I think we can all appreciate that sentiment at some point in our lives, but I can also see this as a low key message about trans acceptance and its fucking beautiful. Hell even Bulma tells Puar that he should take whatever form he is most comfortable in and basically fuck everyone who disagrees. I love that message and I love this pair - fight me. 

I really want to talk about another pretty complex character in this fic, Zarbon. He struggles with so much shame and negativity in this story. He hides behind his good looks and his hair, and when that shit gets cut off, Zarbon is a completely different man, it is shedding his old evil skin and literally growing into his own as a new man, a better person, and you start to care about him. His time with Frieza has basically ruined his ability to have any sort of healthy relationship - friend or other, because he resorts to sex for just about any close relationship he has. The FIRST person he meets after being rescued from Frieza, he starts bedding. Hell he promises a pity fuck to Burter for rescuing him, and come on.. I have never wanted a Burger sex scene more than when I was reading this fic. No really... Catgirl has a way of making you root for just about everyone... I think  that besides the slavers, the only character I HATE is Frieza, and thats pretty cool. AND Speaking of Frieza, shit hes a bad dude in this story. There aren't many POVs of him, and we see a lot of Frieza through Zarbon, Vegeta and Burter, but the POVs after Zarbon escapes and Frieza is trying to replace him is she fucked up shit. You really see his madness when he is sitting in the bloody tub stroking the hair of the dead attendant wishing it was Zarbons. He repeatedly states how much he gave to Zarbon, and how he basically loved him, but then you see him torture the poor man, sexually assault him, and generally just be a complete tyrannical asshole to him. 

The way the Nameks are handled is really cool. I love the nod to canon with them living with the Briefs on Red Station, I love watching Dende figure out how to lead, and struggle with his followers. I love how he makes the decision to room with Gohan as a way of bridging the gap between the Namekians and the Saiyans. The decisions Dende makes shows that he is dedicated to moving forward and not being stuck in the past. But you see him still struggling with things in the past, Zarbon for example. it is hella tense for a while when he first comes aboard because Dende feels Zarbon is responsible for the demise of his people, and Dende seeks out others help and advice on how to manage his feelings. He gets several peoples views and chooses what he thinks is the best, just like a good leader would. He even attempts to make Piccolo feel more welcome in the Namekian contingent of beings on Red Station.

Nappa is a super important character for the beginning of the story. He is the voice of Saiyan past and he advises Vegeta, wether he takes the advice or not. Overall he is the Father figure Vegeta needs (a common role for him) but he tells Vegeta and Raditz about bonding and Gohan comments that it sounds like LOVE. Nappa has some really shitty moments with Bulma, but overall I really like the sweet peeks into his head, when he thinks about his dead wife and babies, or when he tears up about the thought of Bulma and Vegeta having “little princes” of their own, is just heartwarming. And the attraction to Momma Briefs is cute and funny and provides so much ammunition for Bulma to hate Nappa (and boy do they hate each other)

I kinda hate how K18 gets treated in this story, and part of that is how long it takes for 18 to come about, and another part of that is the fact that the story isn't finished. I feel like 18′s android qualities are REALLY played up, which isn't a bad thing - great characterization in fact... but poor Krillin deserves so much better than being mounted with no foreplay and then immediately being engaged... Now I will say that I really like both of these characters in this fic, just wish things were finished cause their relationship has so much more to explore. 

I have both love and hate the Vegebul relationship dynamics in this story. They obviously care for one another, but the relationship seems super unhealthy... there is really no talking, relationship building going on in story. a LOT of fucking sure, but it almost feels like these two banter, fuck but don't really know one another.. and thats kinda sad.. I like that part of a Vegebul fic. Bulma is legit scared of Vegeta on multiple occasions and even in the last published chapter Vegeta looks at her and thinks that she is a monster just like him. And hell with her improvements to the Ki Circlet, she probably is. I will say that their smut is A++ fantastic, it is real, sometimes it is awkward (when they fuck in her lab it is both hot and funny) and there is always a mention of safe sex. 

With all the time spent on, pretty much everyone, including 2 OCs, it is sad that 17, Dr. Briefs and Tien don't get a little more love. They have very very brief scenes peppered throughout the story, and they just seem like after thoughts.. Shit Roshi and Oolong have more impact on the story than any of these three do and thats just a bummer. I am gonna say that maybe they have parts in the unwritten bots of the fic, but who knows if it will ever be updated, much less finished at this point. 

This story is fantastic. I can not recommend it enough. The relationship dynamics alone are fantastic, never mind the fact that Catgirl is FUCKING FANTASTIC at showing not telling, but even when she tells it is impactful. She has a wonderful grasp of character voice and each POV feels like it is actually that characters POV, told through them, not through the lens of a narrator. There are some amazing quotes in this story, some are just funny, 

Others.. Not so much.... 

These are a bunch of misfits thrown together, fighting to survive, and ultimately building a home. Hell Zarbon sees it and is shocked by it.. He says he is amazed by Vegeta “Floating around this country cottage of a ship, lord and master of an assortment of weaklings.” And Zarbon is right. Vegeta is the lord and master of this rag tag crew, and Bulma is their Queen. Their relationship is the glue that holds this little family together. This story is a tale of their struggle to defeat Frieza, but thats not what this story is ABOUT. This story is about, family, friends, love, home and ultimately all the wholesome things humanity has to offer. Sometimes we fuck up, and fight and create drama, but we persevere through those trials and (hopefully) become stronger, more well rounded and more human. And that is a really nice message. 

As a bonus, @rutbisbe drew this amazing Puar/Raditz fan art for this fic and I love it (AND I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

If you liked this review, after you check this fic out, head over to my A03 and read some of my stuff!

[proheromidoriyashouto]

My Good Neighbor, an Inko x Rei Neo-Noir AU

After her divorce and once she’s solely an out-patient, Rei becomes a Private Investigator Jessica Jones-style out of her new apartment in Musutafu. Her reason for this is in part to reclaim her independence, but also to help save others as she wished she could have saved her children. A Shiketsu graduate, she was only a sidekick for a brief time before she was married off to Endeavor and begins the lengthy process to re-acquire a hero license to then function as an underground hero. She finds that she needs assistance and finds it in none other than her neighbor, Midoriya Inko, who is a crime lab technician.

Inko introduced herself once Rei moved in next door but didn’t reveal her occupation until she wound up outside Rei’s office/living room when a disgruntled client started a fight in the apartment. Inko initially hesitates before going out and witnesses a man crash through the glass window of the door with a yell. The man recovers quickly and moves threateningly toward her but Inko whips out a beanbag shotgun she was hiding behind her skirt and tells him to back down. Rei emerges, a katana in hand, and the situation is diffused by the man’s departure via police car.

Rei didn’t have her license to use her quirk  in the beginnings, and makes use of a “decorative” katana that came with her dowry so long ago. Enji had it hung up on a wall in a locked, clear case that only he had the key to, preserving family heirlooms he’d told her parents the last time she saw them, is a duty the Todoroki take with utmost responsibility. A lie to ensure her family’s legacy remained apart from their children-- another familial obligation to burden her heroic spirit with. Free of him, she’s taken it up again sans quirk and it is her main means of protection. Shouto is fascinated and awed by the sight of her wielding the blade so elegantly even all these years out of practice, and they bond over developing her ancestral style into something new, better suited to the modern era, and just theirs.

Rei’s feelings toward her relatives are mixed as they essentially sold her off, but her lessons in kenjutsu were some of the fondest memories of her adolescence and were what she had built her short-lived heroic persona around. Older and out-of-practice, she treats physical violence as a last resort, all the while honing her skills in the event of a throw-down. She leans into vintage-styled dress reminiscent of the classic trench-coat-and-fedora detectives of old-- and not so old, in Naomasa’s case-- but casual enough in appearance that she isn’t written off as a PI at a glance. Once she gets her hero license, a company creates several armored variants of her outfits-- proper costumes for undercover/underground hero work.

She investigates villains sure, but also heroes who are accused or suspected of corruption. Her ex-husband, regrettably, is still the Number One in the wake of All Might’s retirement and it’s a constant source of consternation and turmoil. Rei cannot put her own abuser away as it would threaten the tenuous balance between law and anarchy in their shaken society, and as much as she wants justice for her children if not herself, she knows that now is not the time. Shouto reassures her that once his class has graduated, they’ll oust Endeavor and carry the system on their shoulders better than their predecessors. She’s waited over 20 years-- she can persevere a while longer.

Rei realizes she needs to get forensic assistance from a new lab after spotting members of the Endeavor Agency at the usual place and only just escapes unnoticed. Rather than risk her ex-husbands’ possible spies she’ll have to take matters into her own hands so to speak. She registers her apartment as the headquarters for her own underground agency so she can set up a connected crime lab, but she struggles with what to call it. She’s foregone a proper hero name for much the same reason as her old name isn’t indicative of who or what she is anymore or what her goals are now. Up until now she’s been introducing herself as Rei-san, Private Investigator, hiding her re-earned hero status by omission, but with an agency she’ll need a name.

Shouto often comes by to discuss his life and the current bit of youth culture he’s adapting to, which it so happens to be video games that week. He’s intrigued by interactive visual stories he can alter on a whim and loves to delve into rich background lore because of the mysteries he can spend hours solving. Her family wasn’t so traditional that she never had the opportunity to partake herself, but its an area of interest long forgotten to her at present. Nonetheless, she likes listening to Shouto as he describes the plots and make decisions he instantly regrets only to yelp and hopelessly try to salvage the situation due to misinterpreted dialogue options, spends hours on menial low-reward tasks for the accomplishment alone, takes out aggression on enemies with silly exaggerated weapons and giggle at the absurd physics while doing so-- as he acts like a typical teenage boy.

He especially enjoys playing heroic characters, doing good because it’s what you should do and not because you are forced into the profession. She hopes she can be a hero idol for him where she failed as a mother, even if she’s making up for it now. They’re both surprised upon finding out that there is a hero who looks like her in the game! Shouto spent quite a while designing his character to look like him- as always- with long white hair, and in the costume provided looks astonishingly like Rei in her Media Appearance outfit: The Silver Shroud, operating out of the Memory Den. When she makes a quick change into her own outfit and stands beside the television, her adorable son can’t keep his head still as he notes all the similarities with stars in his eyes, and the decision is made for her. She’s the Silver Shroud and this is their Memory Den.

The decal on the glass of her door is changed from “Rei’s Investigations” to “The Memory Den” and she’s on her way. It’s soon after this that a man who was displeased to find that his lover was not cheating so he could force them to break up with him over the resulting confrontation barges in and threatens her for “ruining everything.” She tries to talk him down, but he is incensed, and they struggle briefly before she sends him flying out the glass with a measured application of her quirk and a kick to the chest. She’s surprised by the arrival of her next-door neighbor- a kind, small woman whose name is familiar though she can’t quite place it- leveling a shotgun at the man like she knows what she’s doing. The former client is forced to wait as Rei calls for a patrol car to take him away, leaving the two women alone.

Inko was recognized by the officers which initially led Rei to believe she was a cop herself before she properly introduced herself as a crime lab technician.

***

“Oh, I’m sorry for interfering with your work. If I’d known you were a hero I wouldn’t have gotten in your way! I just heard what sounded like a fight and a man’s voice and I know you live alone and I’m not an officer or a hero, but I have weapons’ training, so I thought—"

“No, no. It’s perfectly understandable. Rei smiled assuredly. Most people wouldn’t have tried to help, whatever the case, so that you did is admirable. You shouldn’t apologize for it regardless of my position.”

Flustered, Inko replied. “O-oh, well, I am sorry, I know most heroes would feel disrupted… but, um, at least let me say I’m glad you’re alright, then.”

“Likewise.” Rei gestured toward the shotgun, concern tilting her mouth into a frown. “Are you used to handling yourself? I had thought this area was safe.”

“Yes, I am. It’s, ah, not live munition- it’s loaded with beanbag rounds. I’ve only fired it once, though!” Inko sighed. “Honestly? It was safer when I first moved in, but that isn’t why I have Clem, here.”

“Clem?”

Inko flushed and jostled the shotgun pointedly. “Clementine. See, erm, there were… killings a few years ago. The victims were crime scene lab techs. My colleagues.”

Rei’s eyes widened.

“The villain thought it would damage public opinion of the police more than targeting the officers themselves, especially since most murders occurred within precinct walls during the day shift. We were protected, but the attacks stopped before a suspect could be apprehended.” Inko’s shoulder’s tensed. “I… I live alone, lived alone with only my young son, my quirk is nothing flashy and without knowing for sure…” Her eyes took on a hard edge as she met Rei’s slate stare. “Given the circumstances a judge gave me approval for a weapon for strictly defensive purposes, and hero patrols were increased for a while. Since All Might’s retirement, though, I… I- I can’t take any chances. I’ve seen less of the heroes which makes sense with the rise in crime, not to mention my shift increases. I’ve been getting home when it’s dark out in a neighborhood with fewer hero patrols in a poorer part of the prefecture. I know the statistics, and after the talking-to I gave my son about safety- I’m taking her everywhere with me.”

“I… I understand.” Rei replied. “I can wait for you if you like and escort you to your door. I tend to work at night anyway.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother! Its like I said, I can handle myself just fine.”

“You’re concerned for your safety and I am a hero.” Rei couldn’t let her go on like this after hearing her tale. “Please, I insist. …think of it as me returning the favor for your help today.”

“Well… alright. That’s fair. A relief knowing you’re right next door and everything.”

“Say…” Rei said pensively. “Would you happen to know if your facilities are partnered with the Endeavor Agency?”

Inko blinked once, twice. “I don’t believe we are. His office has their own lab and when they do cooperate with third-party investigators or the police its usually labs in Tokyo proper, nothing as far from the agency as Musutafu.”

Rei clapped her hands together before her, pleased. “Would you mind speaking more with me inside? I’m in need of a consultation- ah, if it isn’t an imposition, of course.”

“Sure.” Inko grinned. “We should probably get to know each other if we’re going to be seeing more of one another, too.”

“Can I offer you a coffee?” Rei said, stepping around the shattered glass to her apartment. “I, um, don’t have any tea.”

“I’m fine with anything, but a coffee would help my nerves right now.” Inko sighed shakily. She turned toward a source of noise in the living room. “Oh, is that Saving Face? I do enjoy a good love story.”

Rei carefully shut her door behind them and hurried to prepare her guest a drink with smile. The old film was a favorite from her time in the hospital. “As do I.”

***

Rei relies heavily on espionage, leveraging her good looks to coerce criminals into talking to her under the guise of flirting or gossiping with the out-of-place-bombshell at the dive bar. She wears her armored clothing, heels that contain data drives, and hides the katana inside her coats. She curls her hair and wears a hat to hide comms devices, and “smokes” from a cigarette holder that’s really a recording device. The cigarette is fake and shrinks to sell the image, as she would rather not associate with fire. When there’s a change in plans, she blows on it and the cigarette bursts like a smoke bomb for a quick getaway.

She meets with Naomasa in cafes while it’s raining, passes information disguised as a reporter during media blitzes, plants tracking devices on villains while playing the frazzled-and-late-for-carpool stay-at-home mom rushing by, etc. She tries not to rely too heavily on her quirk because it’s a distinct give away but isn’t afraid to overwhelm her opponents if pressed.

At home, most of the apartment has been converted into work space. Only the guest room where the children sleep when they visit is free of materials. Inko stops by every morning and afternoon to be briefed and transport evidence to or from her lab for processing. The two are fast friends, and Rei cherishes the closeness they’ve cultivated in the weeks since their encounter on her door step and they’re only growing closer-- which she's got butterflies about. The glass window is continuously destroyed by people sent flying through it to the point that they keep several replacements on hand.

Rei and Inko go out on day while their sons are waiting at the Memory Den and enter to find a quiet apartment. They find them in the guest room. Shouto is wearing Rei’s largest coat, her hat, and her blue ugg boots she got specifically for relief after long days in heels, standing over Izuku who is prone on the floor with ketchup over his body in several places, tongue out, clearly playing dead. The boys recreated one of her evidence boards and while Shouto reviews the clues out loud, Izuku intermittently offers his thoughts before ‘dying’ once more in dramatic fashion. Rei whips out her camera just in time to catch her son’s flustered waffling when Izuku calls him Shoushou- he has a nickname! - and Izuku hiding his face in his arms at being called ‘zukun’ in return. They watch for a few minutes and almost reveal themselves when Shouto chasing Izuku- now the criminal- around the room makes them laugh.

They finally do when Shouto proclaims, “Mama is the best hero this town has ever seen! She won’t let you hurt anyone else, villain.”

Rei pushes the door open, tears in her eyes. “You really think so?”

She hugs him so close and they have a good long cry about what could have been.

Rei’s most prominent case becomes the search for the serial killer burning their victims alive. It’s not a high-profile case, minimal media coverage to prevent inciting a panic, and the other investigators are a few underground heroes in coordination with the police. It comes to a head when a lead mentions a homeless man going simply by ‘Touya’ arriving in Musutafu around the time of Stain’s prominence and the continuation of the League of Villains’ recruitment schemes.

The investigation takes a darker note when they discover that quirkless people are disappearing in areas of suspected League of Villains activity likely to serve as the ‘base’ of new Noumu experiments.

Rei presses everyone for any information about a man named ‘Touya’ and when asked why she reveals, “My oldest son, it’s his name. He left home a long time ago and hasn’t spoken to me since. He fits the profile.”

“..the killer’s profile?” Naomasa nearly dropped his pen in shock.

“No.” Rei denied. “He couldn’t have burned those people. Not my boy.”

“Silver Shroud… Rei-san… if he has a fire quirk and matches the description—”

“That’s what I mean. It couldn’t have been him. Touya was born quirkless. He fits the profile for the Noumu experiments. That’s why I have to find him.”

Rei’s journey of self-actualization is embroiled in the search for her missing son, capturing villains, hunting a serial killer, confronting and abiding by the society which allowed her spirit to be broken, learning to forgive herself, and discover what it is to find love in the least expected places, and allow herself to be loved.

***

(Don’t make a new Inko x Rei AU when you haven’t published the first one. Don’t do it, bitch-

We’re here, I guess. I wrote this listening to My Love by Kovacs. This is super fun and occurred to me while playing Fallout 4 which is why she’s the Silver Shroud. Shouto having a grand old time being a hero in the wasteland in a Minuteman/Railroad run brings me joy to think about. It’s not like I also planned a Fallout AU or anyth-

Inksignia, Beyond Alteo is about half-done. I keep pushing it back to work on other things, but it’s coming along and will be published a thousand years before this one because I’m terrible.

Inko’s deal here is a subplot I haven’t fully thought through, I just really like tiny ladies with big guns and needed a suitable explanation. She recovers shells and beanbags with her quirk don’t tell no body. She doesn’t back up Rei on scene because Inko is not a hero and as someone who works with law enforcement, knows better than to interfere most of the time. Rei comes over to sleep at the Midoriya apartment because her own bed is usually a mess of paperwork and lordknowswhat that’ll take too long to organize. Rei shares Inko’s bed. snuggles

I spent an embarrassing amount of time looking into some of Rei’s outfits. She has several pairs of casual heels for spying under the guise of public outings and practical boots when she knows it’ll be a fight, or her patrols require them. She wears the kind of wool winter coats that are trench-coat-ish but ultimately fashionable, except in her Media Appearance outfit which is basically the Silver Shroud costume. Two hundred years later shit is up for free-use or whatever it doesn’t matter. The hat she favors is a black Bellady hat with a silver bow. I can provide links to anyone who wants a to see the stuff I picked. Keeping them out of the post so it doesn’t get flagged for links or whatever. Honestly, this should just be called the Aesthetic AU.

Quirkless Touya? From moi??? whatever do i mean hohohohohon

Slight todomido/izushou, mostly background. Inko x Rei endgame. Toshinori? Maybe??? Seriously can we create ship names for them. Inkrei. Reinko. Toshinkrei??? )

[fresh-outta-jams]

The Man of My Dreams

The Man of My Dreams Yoongi x Reader Soulmate AU

Author: Admin Mo Sequel to So Far Away (Link in Masterlist) Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: Soulmate Fluffff

Since you and Yoongi had met in person, not all that much had changed between you. When you were dreaming, you talked and hung out, and in person, it was the same, but without the talking. Yoongi had been working his ass off to learn ASL so you didn’t have to write everything out all the time, and he was getting good at reading your lips too. He didn’t try to make a big show of it, because he wasn’t that kind of person, but you noticed his improvement without him having to say anything.

When you were together in person, you spent a lot of time working on music. Oftentimes, he would pull you into his lap in the Genius Lab, strap some headphones on your head, and have you pick out what was slightly off. You were good at that. Other times, you would pluck out impromptu duets and giggle at the spontaneous chaos of the keys, clashing until you found a blend that worked.

The boys noticed a shift in his demeanor when he was around you. He was softer, lighter, not necessarily all that different, but different enough for them to notice. It happened to them too, when they were with their soulmates. There was something about the chemistry two members of a soul bond shared, something irreplaceable and unbreakable. No matter how many times the adults in your lives had described it to you, none of their explanations could compare to the feeling of it. There were no words to describe how close you felt to him, but maybe it was partially because you had known him for a few years prior to meeting him in real life.

As soon as the two of you could find time in your busy, busy schedules, Yoongi pulled some strings and arranged for a little trip.

By the time the day came for your vacation, you hadn’t seen Yoongi in real life in at least a few months. You were seriously craving his warmth, his arms around you, his voice in your ear. And what better place to satisfy your needs than in the happiest place on earth?

Destination: Disney World.

When you landed at the airport, you were looking for a driver with a sign with your name on it. Instead, you found a familiar face and a head of brightly colored hair. Rainbow.

(Y/N) “Rainbow” Garcia was Hoseok’s soulmate. She had the same name as you, so she had taken on the name “Rainbow” so the boys could tell you apart.

“Hey girl,” Rainbow smiled, pulling you in for a hug. You had already met her once for the TwoHearts Awards, and you and the other BTS soulmates had a group chat. It was lit. “You ready to get our Disney on?”

You nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. She handed you a pair of Minnie Mouse ears and you put them on. She too was wearing ears, but instead of the classic black ears with the red and white bow, hers were iridescent rainbow colors. You expected no less from her, to be honest.

“Those are from Yoongi. They’re meeting us at the hotel. But don’t worry, my playlist is lit. It’ll be a fun drive.”

And indeed it was. The two of you spent the entirety of the ride jamming out to your soulmates’ music, specifically, their mixtapes. With a healthy dose of BTS sprinkled in for good measure, of course.

The hotel you were staying in was the Art of Animation Resort, and immediately, the room you were in was perfect. It was Little Mermaid themed. You had latched onto Ariel for obvious reasons, given your shared lack of voice but love of music, so the movie held a special place in your heart.

You turned on the TV to find (surprise!) Disney movies and shows. Not that you were complaining. There was a reason you had taken Yoongi here in your dreams. Maybe it was the hope those movies had or the promise of magic and wishes granted, but you loved everything about what they stood for.

After waiting for a little while longer, you slipped into the bathroom (the shower looked like Ariel’s Grotto!) and changed into a t-shirt that said “a sea witch stole my voice”, adjusting your newly blue hair in the mirror. Yoongi had only seen it in pictures, but told you he was blown away as always. Your followers on Twitter, of course, had put up pictures of him with blue hair for the side-by-side comparison. The internet had spoken: you were officially couple goals.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, there was a knock at the door. Rainbow opened it and you walked out of the bathroom.

“There’s my rainbow girl!” Hobi exclaimed, taking Rainbow in his arms and spinning her around like he did every time they saw each other.

Yoongi came in after, a smile slowly creeping across his lips as he neared you. Reaching out, he twirled a strand of your blue hair around his finger. “The blue looks nice. And so do you.” Simple and sweet, as was everything about your relationship. He gently pulled you forward and kissed your forehead.

It didn’t take too long to get out into the parks, riding the bus to the Magic Kingdom. Yoongi held your hand tight, his thumb grazing over the back of it gently. He seemed nervous, you noticed. Quieter than usual. But then he would look over at you and all of his anxiety seemed to melt away into that beautiful smile. And yes, Yoongi looked adorable in his Mickey ears.

You put up a picture of the two of you on the bus, Yoongi’s head resting on your shoulder and his arm around your waist. In flooded the likes and comments. Rainbow made sure to have Hobi get a pic of you and her in front of the castle, pinkies interlocked and Minnie ears equipped. It was like the best double-date ever.

After riding Splash Mountain and getting absolutely soaked, which felt nice in the heat, hitting Haunted Mansion and listening to Hobi scream for ten minutes straight, and riding Pirates of the Caribbean, you took a break for Dole Whip, a magical blend of pineapple and vanilla ice cream. Yoongi reached across the table and took your hand, his thumb rubbing your knuckles. He had so much love in his warm brown eyes and it just filled you with warmth in that way unique to soulmates. You had never felt this way about anyone.

When your cup was empty, he threw it away for you and then came back, slipping his hand into yours as soon as you stood up from the table.

“Where do we want to go next?” Rainbow opened up her map of the park. “We still haven’t hit Tomorrowland.”

You held up your hand and signed “E-P-C-O-T?”

“Ooooooooh yessss,” Rainbow agreed.

“What’s in Epcot?” Hobi asked.

“The world’s showcase.” Rainbow lit up thinking about it. “They have like a bunch of buildings that represent a bunch of countries around the world.”

“It’s really cool.” You signed. Yoongi snaked an arm around your hips, a hand settling on the fabric of your jean shorts.

“Then we should go.”

After walking around the whole world in a few hours, you went back to the Magic Kingdom to ride the teacups, Small World (which resulted in Hobi singing the song for at least an hour after), and the Little Mermaid ride. You met some characters (caption: We took Happy and Sleepy to meet Snow White!), caught the parade, watched the fireworks, and went back to the hotel room.

Yoongi sat in your bed while you showered, his laptop sitting in his lap and headphones over his ears while he worked on mixing some beats and layering some harmonies. But as soon as the bathroom door opened, he closed the computer, turning his full attention on his beautiful soulmate. He watched as you walked over to the bed, your blue hair thrown into a messy braid.

“You are so beautiful, jagi.” His voice was low, already slipping into sleep. He truly loved being able to spend the night with you. And he hoped that someday soon, it would be an every night thing.

“Says the most handsome man in the world.” You signed, making him smirk and reach out for you. Moments later, you were in his arms and loving every second of it, basking in his warmth.

“I promised I would take you here, didn’t I?” Yoongi brushed the hair out of your eyes.

You nodded and curled into him, pressing a kiss to his jaw to let him know wordlessly just how much you cared about him. The connection you shared was was deeper than words. But that didn’t mean you didn’t have a surprise put together for him. Over the past several months, you had been going through vocal therapy. Yes, your vocal chords had been damaged beyond repair. They were not fit for regular use. But you found that with practice, you could force out a hoarse whisper. It was barely there, barely audible, but still there.

You didn’t say anything. Yet. You were saving it, the first ‘I love you’ for a special moment. You didn’t know, however, just how soon that would be.

***

A week in Disney seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Every day brought a new adventure.

One of the days you went to Blizzard Beach and you got to enjoy the sight of Yoongi in his swimming trunks with wet hair. There was a ton of splashing involved, especially where Hobi was concerned. His playfulness had been soaking more and more into Rainbow, you noticed. You were glad, though. After she had been stuck with Gray Syndrome for so long, it was nice to finally see her happy.

Another day, you went shopping in Downtown Disney, where when you tried to pay for the toys and things you had found, Yoongi lowered your hand and gave you a look that said, “I don’t think so.” And then proceeded to pay for you, which prompted you to give him a kiss as soon you walked out of the store.

You ended up watching Fantasmic, riding Star Tours, competing in Toy Story Mania, meeting Stitch, eating at Be Our Guest, and doing what you and Yoongi had always done: made the most of the time you had.

On the last day, everything was perfect. You were wearing your matching soulmate shirts, you had ridden so many rides, gotten ice cream, and now, you were watching the fireworks. Hobi and Rainbow had gone to ride Splash Mountain one last time, so you and Yoongi were alone, staring up at the brilliant colors that filled the night sky. His arm was slung around your shoulders and yours was wrapped around his torso.

After a few minutes, Yoongi bent down, seeming to notice something on the ground. You were too distracted by the bright lights and moving colors to fully process what was happening.

“Jagi, you dropped something.” His voice was behind you now, and when you turned to look, he was kneeling there, a little velvet box with the most perfect ring inside held in a shaking hand.

You were stunned. Shocked. You sort of had a feeling something like this was coming. You had known Yoongi for a long time, going on four years now, and you were soulmates after all. But there were still tears in your eyes as your heart threatened to hop out of your chest.

“Yes!” You mouthed, nodding frantically after staring at him for a while. “Y-yes!”

“I had a whole speech ready.” He chuckled, still kneeling on the ground. Yoongi took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto your finger, kissing the back of your hand. He stood on shaky legs, standing to meet you.

You didn’t hesitate to grab his face and pull it to yours, kissing him long and deep. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly and he deepened the kiss, thumbs massaging circles into your hips. When you finally came up for air, he stopped to look at you for a long time, admiring how the light framed your features so perfectly. He wanted to remember this moment and everything about it.

The moment you agreed to be his forever.

“Yoongi.” You strained to make even the smallest noise, but even with all of the sound that surrounded you, he still was taken aback, lips parting in silent surprise. “I love you.”

Although he had been able to keep his composure until now, the sound of your voice, however crackly, faint, or hoarse, caused him to immediately burst into tears, reaching out for you and pulling you into his arms. He couldn’t contain the emotion built up inside him anymore, and you realized as he held onto you as tightly as he could that this was the first time you had seen him cry. Even when you had met for the first time, he hadn’t cried, even though you had.

“I love you so much.” His voice was muffled in the fabric of your t-shirt. “So much.”

And so you stood there, holding each other and crying and confessing your love over and over, a diamond ring wrapped around your finger and more love in your heart than you knew what to do with. You knew one thing for certain: you couldn’t wait to start working on your forever with the man of your dreams. 

[sometimesambroswrites]

(@ifthingsgetcrazy​ listen ... i give you free reign to prompt whatever you want because ... i don’t know what happened here ... i have no excuses ... you asked for a professors au where the students ship them so i wrote ... not that. I’m posting this so you know that I tried.)

BUT STILL THE HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS!! Thank you for always being so appreciative of everything I write, for sending me prompts, for sending me prompts while you’re asleep and for giving me reasons to write :)  Alles Gute zum Geburtstag!

Read on AO3

“I ship it.”

Cameron looks up from where he'd been insistently banging on his locker to force it open and follows Jamie's alarmingly predatory gaze to discover she's staring at Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane, who are obliviously walking down the hall as they chat and smile and kind of ignore the swarm of students around them.

Cameron frowns and hits the locker just right; it pops open and he shrugs his bag off his shoulder with a satisfied sigh. “Ship what where?”

He can feel Jamie's annoyed eye-roll and he bites down on his lower lip to keep himself from grinning openly.

“How many times have I explained this to you? Ship means that I – ”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cameron says, pushing his bag in his locker with both hands; one of the pins is almost dislodged from where it's hanging on for dear life to the black fabric, “That you want them to be romantically involved because you think their characters would fit well with each other,” he recites; he keeps the bag inside the locker with one hand and slams the door shut with the other, almost cutting off four of his fingers. He shrugs, lets his back slide against the metal of the lockers until he can cross his ankles: “I don't see it.”

Jamie rolls her eyes and imitates him, crosses her ankles and clasps her hands behind her back: “That's because your angsty teenage fringe is covering your eyes.”

Cameron glares at her, almost, almost reaches for said fringe. “My fringe is fine,” he mutters.

Jamie doesn't bother with a reply. Instead, she makes a beeline for Mr. Bane and Mr. Lightwood, who are now a couple of steps from the teachers' lounge, and Cameron's eyes widen as he uselessly reaches for her and ends up taking a step forward to avoid stumbling over his own feet. “Jay!”, he calls under his breath, stepping around approximately three hundred students as he tries to stop her.

When he finally manages to catch up to her, it's too late: Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane have already been interrupted mid-conversation and are now looking down at Jamie with a polite what the fuck written all over their faces.

Jamie has her shark smile on – all teeth and no mercy. “Mr. Bane,” she says, and Cameron can see how Mr. Bane has already figured it all out from the way his lips curl just so. There's a polite smile on Mr. Lightwood's face as well. They're both way too fond of Jamie for their own good. Cameron would know. “We could never let Winter Formal suck because we have no funds for decent decorations, could we?”

Cameron sighs in relief as he realizes that she had no intention of talking of ships of any kind. Then he glares at the back of her head when he realizes she'd probably done it on purpose to freak him out.

“We really couldn't,” Mr. Bane says, nodding solemnly, “What did you have in mind?”

“Let's just say I spent my night on Amazon and I've accidentally put together a list of what we'll need,” she says, handing over a pristine list with quantity and price listed for each item, “and it fits perfectly in the school budget.”

Mr. Bane looks delighted as he scans the list, humming and nodding his approval. “Looks perfect,” he says, then taps pensively on the sheet of paper with his index finger, “But I'm afraid I can't do it without Mr. Lightwood's help,” he adds with a satisfied smirk as he turns on his heels to look at his colleague.

Cameron freezes at the glint in Jamie's eyes, tugs on her sleeve in warning, but she doesn't bat an eye and turns to Mr. Lightwood, who rolls his eyes with a resigned smile: “If Mr. Lightwood is so vital to the project,” he says sardonically, “I guess I can't say no, can I?”

Jamie's smile turns into one with less teeth and more gratitude and Mr. Bane's smirk is filled with satisfaction. “Very well,” he says, folding the list in half, “I'll get this to the Principal and I'll update you in class tomorrow.”

Cameron relates to Mr. Lightwood's fond eye-roll a lot.

*

“I was wrong,” Jamie says in her conspiracy tone, and Cameron doesn't have the time to be surprised because she adds: “They're already together.”

Cameron rolls his eyes. “Sure they are.”

*

Evan is tall. Taller than him.

That's the first thing Cameron had noticed about him, realising at pretty much the same time that he definitely had a thing for taller guys.

So Evan sits next to him in the chemistry lab and he's taller than him even when they're sitting, and Cameron doesn't like it one bit.

“Hey,” Evan says, voice smooth as usual, the tiniest hint of a beard on his chin and cheeks. The fact that his beard looks ginger-ish despite the fact that he's as blond as they come drives Cameron insane most of the times.

He keeps doodling on his chemistry notes and pretends he isn't as affected by him as he actually is: “Hey.”

Evan sighs. It's quiet, but Cameron hears it anyway.

*

He closes his eyes and breathes in, thinks for a moment – he ends up doing the wrong thing anyway.

He follows him into the bathroom for that tiny sigh he wasn't supposed to hear and closes the door behind himself, blocks it with the heel of his booth and his back and Evan turns at the noise, his lips open around a sigh of relief before they're crashing against Cameron's, clumsy and hurried, the hint of beard on his cheeks harsh against Cameron's palms.

They kiss for a long time, until they're both breathless and Cameron doesn't really feel his lips anymore, he just lets Evan press lazy kisses on his skin until he's satisfied.

“Hey,” he says eventually, slightly breathless, lips red, different, in a sigh of relief.

Cameron closes his eyes and relaxes against the door despite himself: “Hey.”

*

They are called the Home-made Decorations Committee and there will be no rest for any of them until the gym looks like a Winter Wonderland – whatever that means. Jamie makes it clear from their first meeting. She is standing in front of a huge amount of boxes, hands on her hips.

If it wasn't for the fact that Jamie had signed him up without asking him, Cameron would have known better than to show up.

There are groups. To each group is assigned a task. Some come with a Youtube tutorial.

Cameron ends up painting a giant styrofoam snowflake – one of the three assigned to him – carefully following the printed instructions he's been provided.

Evan sits next to him on the floor holding glitter and paint.

Cameron snorts: “Why would you subject yourself to this voluntarily?”

Evan shrugs, muscles shifting beautifully under his shirt – he's a human furnace and it's always warm in the Art Room: “I get to spend more time with you, don't I?” he says, voice low, winks at him as he unfolds his own sheet of instructions.

Cameron nervously looks around even though it's basically impossible anyone will hear them over the noise and the Christmas music blasting from someone's phone. “You're insane,” he murmurs, shaking his head as he pretends to focus on one of the corners of his snowflake with his light blue paint.

Evan shrugs; he starts singing along to Last Christmas as he dips his brush in paint, like the truly ridiculous human being he is, and Cameron shakes his head, tries to ignore the warm feeling in his stomach.

*

It's not long before Jamie's theories spread through the Home-made Decorations Committee and the bets start flying.

No-one thinks Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane will never get together. (Cameron is refusing to bet on any outcome.)

Jamie, a couple of other people and Evan think they're already together.

(Cameron just looks at him with his eyebrows raised after Evan has placed his two dollars in the Santa Claus hat Jamie is using to collect all the bets.

Evan picks up his brush and his glitter and plops down on the floor again while everyone else is still busy with their bets. “What?”

“You think they're together?”

Evan looks at him for a long moment before he shrugs: “Yeah.”)

The rest of the group is split pretty much in half: on one side, those who think they'll get together before Winter Formal – i.e., before they've set foot in the gym – and those who think they'll get together after Winter Formal – i.e., after they've set foot in the gym.

It's all very official and Jamie keeps track of every bet in a small notebook.

Ship names are discussed after, and that's when Cameron decides to tune them out. He still gets updates from time to time because Evan is actively participating to the conversation and he can't quite tune him out, but. That's not important.

*

It truly is worrying that Cameron walks into the gym on a Thursday afternoon, merely two days from the Formal, to see the Home-made Decorations Committee huddled-up in the middle of the room, whispering back and forth to each other, and doesn't find it weird in the slightest. It's not the first time it's happened. They're trying to come up with a way to get Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane to interact.

Of course, there's the After Formal Faction that doesn't quite agree and has tried multiple times to sabotage the Before Formal Faction, but, ultimately, they all agree on the chemistry. There's been talk of looks and flirty smiles and today's plan is to send them together to retrieve glue and scissors and pins they've hidden in the Art Room's supply closet.

Cameron can't believe Jamie is willingly wasting precious Formal-organizing time in order to do this.

He lets his bag fall to the floor and follows suit, ready to pick up his work where he'd left off, except that, of course, the scissors are gone. He rolls his eyes.

“Hey.”

He looks up and finds Evan's upside-down head a few feet over his own. “Hey,” he says, catches himself right before he lets his back rest against his legs. Evan is wearing a Christmas jumper – a black one with a gingerbread man with a broken leg; it reads oh snap. Fluffy pom-poms are used in place of the gingerbread man's buttons. It's ridiculously Evan, and, if it wasn't for the nervous look on his face, Cameron isn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from kissing him.

He's jittery, doesn't seem to be able to keep his fingers still. He keeps dragging his shoes against the floor. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Cameron blinks, quickly thinks nothing good ever came after that sentence but doesn't say no, can't, really; it's a bit of an unfortunate trend, with him, this seeing troubles coming from a mile away and still running towards them. He nods, pushes on his palms to stand up: “Sure.”

He follows Evan silently, sneaks a quick glance at the Committee, still wrapped up in their plans, and when the gym door closes heavily behind them he almost starts; he crosses his arms over his chest, feels safer that way: “What's up?”

Evan's fingers twist the edge of his ridiculous Christmas jumper: “I wanted to ask you if you have plans for the Formal,” he says. He sounds breathless and steady at the same time, like he's rehearsed it but he's still nervous.

And Cameron doesn't know what to expect so he really doesn't see it coming, he simply says: “I don't think I'll go, actually.”, shrugs and almost feels relieved that that's all it was.

But Evan says: “I thought. Maybe. We could go together?”, the words unusually jerky in his mouth, Cameron is so busy wondering what happened to the usually smooth Evan that it takes him a moment to process what he just said. “What?”

Evan blushes – his ears turn red and someone who doesn't know him wouldn't notice, but Cameron does, so he notices. There's a nervous smile twitching at the corners of his lips, a stubborn set to his jaw like he knows exactly how this is going to end but he's going to try anyway. “I don't know. Like, as a couple? Maybe?”

Cameron feels – cold. He feels cold all over, fear gripping his stomach, he feels irrationally betrayed. “I don't think that's such a good idea,” he says, his voice shakier than he'd like.

Evan – flinches. Smooth, witty Evan flinches. The muscles in his jaw work for a few seconds as he grinds his teeth together. “Is it because – are we not a couple?”

A groan of frustration makes its way up Cameron's throat and he bites down on it, there's something important he needs to say and doesn't quite know how: “It's not – That's not – it's not that simple, okay?”

Anger digs a frown between Evan's eyebrows, determination fills his eyes once again as he takes a step forward and takes his hand – and that's the first time they've held hands in a public place and it almost takes Cameron's breath away. “What's not simple about this?”

Cameron disentangles their fingers before the impression of Evan's between his can burn its way in his skin. “Don't, just – it's not simple for us, okay?”

There's a discrete cough behind them, and Cameron takes a step back like he's been burned, his back hits the gym door and he curses before he realizes Mr. Bane and Mr. Lightwood are standing a few feet away from them.

He tries to say: “I'm – ” but doesn't have enough oxygen to finish the sentence because Evan's dark eyes look lost and disappointed at the same time, and Cameron feels his own eyes water suddenly and doesn't even know why before he all but runs to the closest bathroom.

*

He goes to Jamie's because Jamie always has ice-cream and tissues.

Jamie just takes a look at him before she's tugging him inside and pushing him down on her bed; she disappears downstairs and reappears with ice-cream and spoons.

*

She's disappointed and sad and a little bit angry that he hadn't told her. Cameron knows she would be. But, since she is the best of friends, she doesn't focus on that. For now. She pats his head and lets him have most of her ice-cream, doesn't ask for his reasons and just says: “It's gonna be alright.”

*

Cameron doesn't see Evan on Friday.

They don't have a single class together and he doesn't show up for the finishing touches to the gym and Cameron feels like a trash-can.

Jamie tries to help him out a couple of times, but Cameron sends her a small smile and shakes his head; eventually, she simply lets him be.

He's busy trying to spread some artificial snow on a tree to hide all the places where the plastic of the branches is showing when Mr. Lightwood says: “Here, let me do that.”

Cameron hesitates for a second, his cheeks burning red as he remembers he hasn't even begun to deal with the fact that two of his teachers probably heard him fight with his – Evan. With Evan.

He hands him the bag of artificial snow and Mr. Lightwood stands on his tip-toes to reach the higher branches of the tree; he resolves to simply throwing it and hope for the best when he realises he can't reach the top of it, and Cameron chuckles without really meaning to. He's just really tired.

Mr. Lightwood smiles at him, and it's in that smile that Cameron knows he heard.

Mr. Lightwood looks down for a moment, takes another handful of artificial snow and moves to the next tree. Cameron follows him.

“You know,” he says, “I never went to any of my school's dances.”

He tries to make it sound casual, but it's the slight tremor behind his voice that stops Cameron from brushing off his clumsy attempt at whatever this is. He looks away, pretends to be busy with a branch that will probably fall off if they keep putting snow on it. “Really? How come?”

Mr. Lightwood shrugs. He's not looking at Cameron either. “I wasn't out,” he says, tries to pass it off as a casual answer but there's a heavy weight behind it that Cameron understands all too well. “Well, not that being out would have really made it any easier, at the time. But I didn't want to spend my nights dancing with some girl or sitting around. So I didn't go.”

Cameron swallows; he's holding a handful of snow and he drops it carefully in a little pile under the tree. He asks: “Do you regret it?”

A weird smile curls Mr. Lightwood's lips – bitter, but like he was expecting the question. “No point in regretting it, is there?”, he says, shakes a branch with too much snow on it so that it falls naturally on the lower ones. “But I am sorry,” he adds, turning to look at Cameron, a heaviness to his voice, “that not enough has changed. That you have to make that same choice.”

Cameron stops, emotions rushing through him too fast for him to catch them, they leave him raw and breathless, his eyes wet because, apparently, crying is the only thing he can do these days. “A lot has changed, though,” he whispers around the knot in his throat. Because it's what he's been trying to tell himself all along. A lot has changed. Not enough, but a lot. He's no longer the child who got pushed to the ground. He can look them in the eyes and say I'm a fag. So what?

Mr. Lightwood nods, relief making his smile lighter: “Yeah,” he says, turning back to the tree, “That's why I'm thinking of taking my fiancé to this one.”

Pride and happiness surround the word and Cameron feels them in his chest; he sneaks a glance in Jamie's direction: “It's Mr. Bane, isn't it?”

Mr. Lightwood winks at him and Cameron groans: “I can't believe Jamie was right.”

Mr. Lightwood chuckles, and they spend a couple more second on that tree before they move on to the next.

“Do you think I should go?” he asks once he's worked up enough courage to speak.

Mr. Lightwood looks him in the eyes when he says: “I think we'll have your back if you do. Both of your backs. And a lot of other people will too.”

They go back to working in silence after that.

*

There's one foot of snow in the parking lot and Cameron is freezing, but it's almost nothing compared to the fear that's turning his insides into stone.

Jamie loops her arm through his, tugs on him the tiniest bit: “You can do this,” she whispers, and Cameron repeats it to himself, in his mind, you can do this, you can do this, and he's suddenly in the gym, blue and white surrounding him, and if he wasn't so busy panicking he would probably be proud of the work they did – as it is, he's not sure where his feet are.

He sees Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane standing on the edge of the crowd of students; they are casually holding hands.

Mr. Lightwood smiles at him when he catches his gaze. He points at his eyes and then at his own back.

Cameron stands up straighter, a slow, tiny smile curling his lips; he disentangles his arm from Jamie's: “I have to go find Evan,” he says.

Jamie's smile is blinding; she stamps a deep blue kiss on his cheek before hurrying away.

Cameron takes a deep breath.

It's a bit like in the movies, really. The crowd parts and suddenly Cameron sees him, sitting down with his legs crossed, wrapped in a dark blue suit and a white button down, he's talking to some of his friends from the football team. He looks gorgeous. Cameron moves without registering it, before he knows it he's standing in front of him and all his friends are quiet.

Evan is looking at him like he doesn't quite believe it, and Cameron kind of shares the sentiment.

He holds out his hand, says: “May I have this dance?”

His fingers are shaking just so, until Evan takes his hand. “I thought you'd never ask.”

*

Evan being tall isn't such a bad thing when Cameron can use him as a pillow when he's tired but he hasn't danced enough quite yet.

Mr. Bane and Mr. Lightwood are dancing too. Well, they're swaying in place while they chuckle and whisper. They look younger.

Cameron is happy they got their chance to dance at a prom together.

Mr. Lightwood sends him a bright smile and Cameron gives him a thumbs up.

They all did.