#although those seem so wasteful with the pods

[jessiesjaded]

If any of you ever meet me and I smile at you and I say "Would you like a cup of coffee?" I'm telling you to look me in my ocean blue eyes and say No. No, thank you. Absolutely not. Because if you say Yes there is a 90% chance I will hand you the most horrific nasty cup of coffee you've ever tasted- maybe it'll somehow have the essence of cigarette butts or maybe it'll be so bland that even with coffee, milk and sugar it tastes like nothing more than overly boiled tap water but either way you dont want to drink that. I can't say my teas are that much more trustworthy.

[chaotic-super]

Back To Krypton - Chapter 25

Read Back To Krypton on Ao3 here!

To say that the group is surprised when morning comes and there’s an empty spot where Kara and Lena’s tent used to be is an understatement.

There’s a panic set between them that they can’t shake, afraid that something terrible has happened to them, the main theory being that the Kryptonians they saw before had stumbled upon them and taken them somewhere, similar to how they got taken by The Rebellion.

That fear goes away when they find the note though, the one Lena wrote out in her very careful swoopy handwriting to tell them that they had gone on a side mission and to stay put because they will be back in a few hours, a day at most if they can help it.

That doesn’t mean that Alex isn’t trapped in an endless cycle of pacing, something Nia isn’t even contemplating, spending her now free time to rest, sleeping in and simply lying on her mattress with a book open, her eyes lazing over the words throughout the day.

If Kara and Lena could see the relaxing day that Nia’s now having in their absence, they would be immeasurably jealous because they have been up pretty much the whole night wandering around trying to find the camp of the environmentalists.

It’s kind of funny that they thought that they might accidentally run into them a second time because their camp is so far away from where they do actually end up finding them, almost a four-hour walk away at that.

“Look, I can see a campfire.” Kara points through the trees to where there is a soft glow peeking out between the trunks.

Lena waits until they make eye contact to nod at Kara to let her know that she sees what Kara is pointing at, too nervous to say anything right now since they haven’t yet figured out where the people are, afraid that they will be overheard.

They make a large loop around the outskirts of the camp they find closer to the fire, finding a small group of them, six to be exact. They know that because across a branch is six jackets hung up like they are on a coat rack, each with a crest over their left breast pocket.

The fire is barely more than embers, left to do as it will overnight with nothing more than a single thick log atop of it to keep it going for as long as they can force it to overnight without any attention so they can all sleep in their pods.

Yes, pods. There are six pods lined up, three on one side and three opposite those. They are all facing inward towards the fire and are perfectly aligned.

Even Kara has never seen anything like it, but that’s not saying too much since she was so young when she left Krypton and these pods are quite clearly suited to these environmentalists.

Each pod is short, only a meter tall, and about a meter wide too, although they are pretty long, almost seven feet, pretty much just a sleeping pod. In fact, exactly a sleeping pod. The pack of each person is to the left of the entrances of the pods, each one opening upwards, made of some kind of plastic material that seems to be pretty durable and strong, rigid in a way an ordinary tent is not. It’s intriguing.

“I think they must all be in their pod, I don’t know if they are asleep or not though so we have to be quiet,” Kara whispers over to Lena, her hand unconsciously gripping onto the edge of Lena’s shirt to keep her close.

“Where are the H’Rakas?” Lena answers back, creeping slightly closer to the pods. “Shouldn’t they be here?”

Kara shakes her head. “They are pretty but they can be smelly and they produce a lot of waste, they will be close by but away from the camp because of that, I’m sure of it.”

“Ok, let’s go find them then,” Lena says, turning away from the camp to make a bigger circle around the area.

The H’Rakas aren’t in the area they already circled, they would have seen them but they could be a little ways away, it’s hard to know the general practice for keeping creatures like these around.

They widen their search area, trying to tread as carefully as they can as to not alert the other Kryptonians of their arrival into their neck of the woods, the last thing they need is to be discovered.

Kara takes the lead, flitting around and keeping her eyes peeled and her ears straining to hear any sound that could give away the location of the H’Rakas.

It’s freezing out here at night. Lena can barely feel her fingers anymore and wishes she could lace them with Kara’s to try and get some feeling back into them but she doesn’t want to slow her down either so instead she just stuffs them as far into her pockets as she can manage, pressing her palms onto her legs, only the material of her pants separating them.

Sneaking around with their own packs on their backs is difficult but they don’t know how long they are going to be before they get back to camp and they will need their tent if they are going to be out here for longer than they bargained for.

“Kara?” Lena whispers into the sharp night air when a strange noise makes its way into her ears.

Kara spins around in lieu of an answer, looking over at her with a questioning glance.

“Listen, I can hear something.”

Kara tucks her hair behind her ear as she listens out, closing her eyes as she tips her head up to the sky, listening past the breeze rustling the trees around them. In the distance she hears it, the same thing Lena could hear before, the sound of deep, heavy-set breathing, the kind of breathing that could only come from a massive beast of a creature. “I think that’s them, let’s go.”

They still have to wander a little bit to find the H’Rakas, the sound isn’t loud enough for them to be able to figure out exactly which direction it’s coming from until they are closer, but they do get closer.

The noises that they originally thought were breathing becomes clearer and the closer they creep, the more they realize that it’s actually snorting. A breathy noise that is unnerving in a way they can’t place.

There are six of them, one for each of the environmentalists. The good thing about H’Rakas is that they are strong. They can easily carry two or three people and yet here these guys are with one each, they must have been carrying some heavy equipment or something to have one each. Kara doesn’t really care about that though. What she does care about is that there are six here and they only need to take two. They can easily manage with two and there will still be four left for the other Kryptonians.

Lena watches Kara slowly ease her way through the trees towards them. She stays further back, keeping hold of both her pack and Kara’s, giving her girlfriend more stealth to get to the beasts.

They may be a little ways away from the cam but they are still in hearing range of them and if the environmentalists get woken up and alerted of their presence then they will only have a few minutes to make themselves scarce before they are over here and their plan is foiled.

She watches with bated breath as Kara creeps towards them, all six of them are looped to a few trees by ropes tied into a harness around their heads and necks, keeping them from escaping without cutting into their flesh.

Kara walks right up to them, going for their fronts so as not to startle them and holding a single hand out in front of her as she edges closer to them, her nerves obvious in her movements.

The mighty beasts rear back slightly, their massive front feet coming off the ground a little before stomping back down, giving Kara a warning to stay back.

She listens, freezing in her spot, not backing away, just staying completely still, giving the H’Rakas chance to get used to her before she tries to head towards them for a second time, not wanting to upset them any more than she has to.

They still have a few hours left until sunrise, they can take a few minutes to earn the trust of the H’Rakas before they steal them, or at least Kara can. Lena is not getting anywhere near those things until she absolutely has to. It’s probably better for Kara to be the one trying to retrieve them anyway since she’s more familiar with them.

Kara waits. She watches the animals with a keen eye, waiting for a slight slouch of their backs before inching closer, stopping again when they become unsettled.

She goes through this process a few times until she is standing right beside them and tentatively running her fingertips along the top of one’s head. “Hey there, big guy.” She murmurs to it, lips quirking up at the chance to be this close to something so magnificent. “Aren’t you a handsome fella? Yes, you are. Yes, you are.”

“Kara!” Lena’s voice whisper shouts from the treeline. “Hurry up, it’s not a dog.”

Straightening her jacket, Kara gets to work on the ropes, untying them from the tree. The knots are tight and she struggles to get them to give way but with a little bit of twisting and tugging, they slowly start coming loose.

The rope is thick and the pressure of it against the freezing skin of her fingertips is unpleasant and as she tugs at it, her knuckles press uncomfortably against the bark of the tree, sometimes catching the skin to the point where she’s probably going to have graze marks there.

One is undone, she has it loose and all she has to do is lead it away slowly. She thinks about taking it to Lena before coming back but she doesn’t want to have to earn the trust of the other one again if she leaves, it could add several minutes onto their side mission and Kara is sure that Lena’s anxiety is just as bad as her own right now.

Instead, she gently ties the rope of the freed H’Raka around her waist. She doesn’t think it will move away since it hasn’t once tried to escape from where it was tied to the tree but it’s just a precaution.

With the first one freed and under her control, she moves on to the second one, the one right beside it. She has to gently coax the first one to follow her a couple of steps but it eagerly follows the tugging of the rope, utterly unbothered by her moving it.

Kara’s fingers find the second rope easily and she begins working on it right away. Her head coming up to check her surroundings every few seconds, her nerves frazzled with the pressure. She meets Lena’s eyes from time to time as she does this and she can see the fear in the green orbs looking back at her.

She’s almost got it, the rope is almost loose when it happens, something spooks the H’Rakas, namely, the one she has already freed.

It starts tugging at her, trying to move away into the trees and away from whatever it is that it’s scared of.

Kara fights against the growing pressure around her waist, her hands moving from trying to undo the rope of the second H’Raka to grab onto the rope between herself and the first, tugging on it to try and tame the beast that is now rearing up again, this time with its eyes glued onto the treeline at a ninety-degree angle to where Lena is standing by.

Both Kara and Lena find their eyes drawn to the spot, searching through the darkness to find whatever it is that has the H’Rakas going crazy.

A snap of a twig, maybe a branch.

Purple, unyielding eyes peer out from behind a bush, watching with rapt attention and unblinking as they keep their focus trained on the H’Rakas, making prey of the animals.

Whatever creature goes after huge dragon-like animals, Kara does not want to meet and she does not want to be in the crosshairs of them fighting.

This is not a battle she’s willing to fight.

She does the only thing she can think of; leaping up onto the back of the H’Raka she’s tied to, she grips onto its sides with her knees and pulls up, prompting it to go, letting it pick up the pace and start running.

She grabs hold of the harness around its neck and uses it to guide it towards Lena, holding a hand out when she’s on her way past her, wordlessly telling her to grab on and jump on behind her because they are leaving now.

Lena makes the jump look easy, probably a mixture of adrenaline and fear making her into a sudden Olympic-level athlete. Even with two packs, one hanging from each arm, Lena manages to land centred behind Kara, her arms coming up to grip around her waist.

“Ooh, good jump.” Kara can’t help but comment, even though the terrifying situation they’re in.

From behind them, they hear what can only be described as a shriek followed by a roar. Both sound familiar and yet not so, identifiable in a way that they know that the shriek is from the tied-up H’Rakas and the roar from whatever the purple-eyed creature is.

“Kara, make this thing go faster.” Lena screeches into the back of Kara’s neck, clinging onto her waist for all she’s worth.

If the awful noises from behind them weren’t enough, the overwhelming noise of shouts fill the air, Kryptonian words being yelled out somewhere behind them.

Due to the low-hanging branches and the speed at which the H’Raka is running, they are forced to look forward, to watch out for when they have to duck and press themselves as far down as they can or to lean in time with the mighty beast so they don’t slow down a turn and send them all careering into a tree.

There’s no time to look behind them to see if they have been spotted, no time to keep an eye out for anything other than themselves.

The shouting and screeching continues behind them and they just have to keep going, keep praying that the one H’Raka they have managed to obtain can get them out of there.

There are too many trees. They can’t take flight here, they wouldn’t make it through the branches, the H’Raka knows it too, it knows its limits and that’s a hard one, it can’t make it through there so why bother trying, instead, it’s just running, taking them far off in a direction that Kara and Lena can’t even fathom.

Neither of them knows where they are going but while they can still hear noises behind them, there’s no point in them stopping, not that they know how to actually properly ride this animal in the first place. They really should have thought this through better.

The H’Raka just keeps going and going, all the while the noise behind them gets quieter and quieter the further away they get, giving them the impression that just maybe, they are actually getting away from everything that happened.

Lena loosens her grip on Kara marginally as they slow down to a trot instead of a full-on sprint. “Do you think we lost whatever that thing was?”

“I don’t know but this little fella seems to think we’re safe enough that we can slow down so I’d say we’re alright for the minute.” Kara turns her head to the side, looking at Lena from the corner of her eye.

“What are we going to do? We need two.”

“One is better than nothing.” Kara answers, not sure where they go from here now, their plan can’t work with only one. “We will have to wait until we get to a clearing before we can take off and then we’ll be able to see what’s going on. I just hope that the other Kryptonians aren’t flying their H’Rakas looking for this one.”

Lena sighs, slumping against Kara’s back. “I didn’t even think of that. We really need to get high up though so we can see where we are going. It’s going to be light soon too.”

“I know, let’s just –“

A roar ricochets through the trees behind them, followed closely by the thudding claws of the other H’Rakas as they gallop in their direction, steaming behind them in their desperate need to escape.

“That’s not good.” Lena has the chance to squeak out before their H’Raka takes off running again, egged on by the thunderous steps of its brothers and sisters.

They get right back to ducking and weaving, seeing the fellow H’Rakas running alongside them, all without riders, which means that none of the Kryptonians managed to keep them at the camp. This certainly explains why it’s so normal for H’Rakas to escape from environmentalists, one predator comes along and the H’Rakas, while usually mild-tempered, become so frightful that they break free and run.

The problem is that the predator is running after them.

Clinging onto Kara, Lena dares to look back, taking Kara’s cues to duck and lean while her eyes search the brush they are galloping through, her gaze sweeping in search of those purple eyes they saw before, the ones that hold nothing but pure bloodlust.

There’s nothing there that she can see, but looking to the sides of them, she can see five other H’Rakas, all charging in the same direction, dead focused on their route out of the way of the predator, the one she can’t see, the one that she’s afraid of anyway.

It’s in her fascination with the other creatures alongside them that she misses Kara’s cue to duck, failing to do so and hitting a branch. Her grip on Kara’s jacket isn’t enough and her fingers slip free of the fabric.

The force of the blow sends her flying off the back and before she knows it, Lena is lying flat on the ground with the two packs atop of her, the wind completely knocked out of her lungs, leaving her wheezing to try and breathe again.

In the rush of what happened and the unexpected jolt, she takes a few fleeting moments to come to her senses, realizing that she’s now been left behind when there’s some killer animal chasing after them, probably hiding in the bushes somewhere, ready to strike.

She only has one real weapon on her to try and protect her but by Rao is it a good one.

Hands shaking with panic, she digs into the pack she quickly identifies as her own, hand gripping the item she has stored standing vertically in its sheath along the right-hand side.

Her long fingers circle around the handle and within seconds, she has the sword free, the metal glinting in the moonlight as she spins around, searching for any hint of either Kara finding a way to turn the H’Raka around, or the beast following them…and there it is.

She faces those eyes, they’re watching her.

Lena holds the sword up, the tip facing towards it so that if it rushes forward, it’s going to impale itself.

They stare down for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, Lena barely daring to blink, before it does take a step forward, not a large one, just enough for it to step out of the bushes, exposing itself to her so she can finally get a good look at what she’s facing off with.

Oh shit.

The sword probably isn’t going to be all that helpful because the creature is basically a kangaroo on steroids, it’s so big that she’s not even sure she’ll be able to get close enough to it to hit it.

Its legs are easily a couple of metres long and as she looks at it, it rears up to its full height, more than doubling her own. It’s covered in feathers, greens and browns that help it to blend into its surroundings, its only giveaway is its eyes.

Its face is huge, a muzzle with massive sharp teeth bared at her in a menacing way that sends ice through her veins.

This might genuinely be the day she dies.

She keeps the sword pointed at it and gulps, her fight or flight mode kicking into gear as it begins to lean down, bringing those teeth closer.

In the question of fight or flight, there is only one prevailing answer for a Luthor and it’s obvious. Lena takes a great swing at it, a powerful yell bubbling up from her chest as the sword takes its first swipe through the air.

It stumbles back out of the way of her but she’s not done. A second swipe with another yell and it’s backing up more but it doesn’t last, its head swooping down and teeth chomping towards her.

She flicks the sword up, all of her fencing lessons as a teenager coming back to her as it flicks across the jacked-up kangaroo’s face.

A thin line of yellow blood seeps out from the gash and it lets out a yelp, high-pitched and loud.

Lena takes advantage of its current distraction, bringing the hilt of the sword down onto the back of its head while it is lowered close to the ground, sending it sprawled down against the dirt and tree roots, disorientated.

Now it’s time for flight.

Grabbing the two packs and slinging them over her shoulders, Lena breaks out into a run, practically flying with how fast she’s running, the adrenaline gushing through her body in a way that if Lena didn’t know better, she’d think it had all pooled in her legs because she’s not just running, she’s running.

She doesn’t stop to look back, just focuses on putting one foot in front of the other and lets the packs clank against her back with each step, the handle of the sword growing sweaty in her palm but she’s not letting it slip, not when she might need it.

Realistically, she knows that she’s not going to be able to outrun this thing for long, by the size of its legs she knows it’s way faster than her.

The average kangaroo on Earth can run at speeds up to thirty-five miles per hour so it’s safe to bet that it would be even higher for this creature and the only thing stopping it is the high density of the trees. It hasn’t had a straight run and because it’s so large, it can’t manoeuvre around the trees as well as the H’Rakas could, that’s how they all escaped.

She keeps going even when she can barely breathe and all of her muscles are begging for her to stop. Lena is in the best shape of her life from the vast amount of walking she’s been doing but she cannot run for a long period of time, not at all. She could walk this with ease but running is a no-go.

Her eyes become unfocused for a second, her mind whizzing to find a way out that doesn’t include more running.

Lena begins to think of maybe finding a place to hide, somewhere small where the oversized kangaroo-bird-thing can’t get to her and so she looks to her sides, trying to find somewhere, maybe somewhere more densely wooded or somewhere she can force herself between the exposed roots of trees like she’s seen in the terrible movies she only watched for Kara’s sake at their old movie nights.

She spends too much time looking around her and for the second time in a very short span, she wishes she’d kept her eyes forward because one second the floor is beneath her feet and then next she’s falling and not just to the ground.

She’s falling down.

Lena just ran off the edge of a cliff by accident.

Oh shit.

We're up to chapter 30 on Patreon if you want to come and read ahead! The latest chapters are bangers if I do say so myself.

[freedfromthegalactichivemind]

Okay, browsing another fandom-tag, (the thing I am newly becoming RE-obsessed with, my longstanding decades old fandom re-emerging due to shiny new material)... well... I found something that made me think of THIS fandom and how ridiculous it is sometimes and how ridiculous fandom can be about certain things.   Take a look at this reblogged image on my other sideblog: Classic Trigun Official Art.   Its kind of spoilery for those who haven’t seen the 1998 original anime series, but it’s non-canonical at, anyway.  At least, I think it’s non-canon art.  However, it is official, as in, it’s not canon art / not an image from the actual anime, but it is promotional, a kind of post-series funsies thing done by crew.   The pale-haired guy in the space-suit there?  The one who’s got the smiling spiky-haired guy’s arm wrapped around him?  He’s the series’ main villain.  He’s also a genocidal maniac with a deep hated of humanity who has murdered millions of people.  He of course is here, in this funsie official / adjacent art shown in the trope of a “reforming villain” with heroic-characters including the main (Vash with his arm arround him - twin brother) gladly hanging out with him.  Anyway, my point is that - hey, look at the actual official although non-canonical art of the “defanged villain” trope - done for fun, to show a villain being begrudgingly good / implied to be on his way to reformation post series, etc.  Silly promo / bonus art.   It made me think about how She-Ra fandom had the Catra vs. Hordak wars and how some people / factions were just AGAHST at the idea that some of us fan-critters loved to contemplate redemption arcs and do fanart and fanfic that defanged the villains and so forth.  While people don’t seem to mind it much for Horde Prime - people doing sexy or silly fanart with him to scratch that itch for a “defanged dark lord” fun time, people got really bent out of shape for a while for both Hordak and Catra, didn’t they?  In the Hordak fan-faction (hi there, where I make my bed, or my clone-pod, as it were) there were a lot of people who hated Catra, thought of her as taking time away from their blorbo and who considered her “too toxic” for Adora and made this big honking serious deal out of it.  Fanfics about Catra fucking off to the Crirmson Waste alone and whatnot... I actually don’t mind pairing Adora with other people, it’s just that some of the “Catra cannot be redeeeeeemed!” stuff got a little obnoxious for me, even though I, myself, got sick and fucking tired of overzealous Catra-stans calling me a genocidal colonist for liking Hordak.   And of course, um, Hordak.  A villain portrayed with some sympathy and human emotions, despite being an actual dictator trying to conquer a planet. Yeah, Hordak’s done a lot of fucked up things, like employing torture and execution-by-exile in his reign.  I like him, anyway, because of those sympathetic points - the clone-cult stuff, the sense that he has a desire to be wanted and loved despite everything (thank you, Entrapta).  And, well, I LOVE the idea of post-canon, of “Lets let him live a cute domestic life with Entapta and lets dress him in sweaters and have him discover how delicious mangoes are, the poor cult-denied big fruit bat!”   And, well, there was a big row among people about liking these characters, something of a sympathy-contest of who “deserves more sympathy” and whatnot.  I was sitting here the whole time going “Let me enjoy my defanged dark lord trope in peace.”   Meanwhile, back in my old fandom, which I have returned to... it’s like “Oh, yeah, there’s official art of the actual literal genocidal maniac who canonically has a very graphic 100K+ body count being domesticated by the good guys, not to mention what the fandom does and the thirst some fans have for this guy”  and it’s like.... “Whoa, anime fandoms just be more chill than American cartoon fandoms, don’t they?”    No one accuses you of wanting to erase humanity because you enjoy Millions Knives, so why do people accuse you of being a real life abuser or colonial apologist if you enjoy Catra or Hordak?  

[misschifuyu]

To choose a lover

requested here

characters: ran haitani + rindou haitani

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Giggles and whispering comments were passed around, giddiness present in the voices that spoke out just a few metres away from you.

As much as you tried to focus on the tiresome work that was splayed out on the piece of paper before you, it was completely futile to drown the girls out.

It didn't take a genius to know what they were talking about. The school you were all under had the privilege - if one could even consider it as such - to hold two infamous students.

The Haitani brothers.

Whilst the eldest was in his final year, the younger still had another year under this roof until he followed in his brother's footsteps.

But there was really nothing to dislike about going to class when one had a literal fan group who's main topic was always them.

There were girls who preferred Ran, with his signature braids that they always wished they could undo for him; and others that would always fawn over Rindou's cocky ways and stubbornness, trying to catch his attention wherever he went.

The current conversation, however, wasn't just fixed on talking about their aspects.

Far from it. Sending each other questionable looks and making fun of those on the other side of the opinion, they were discussing who, out of the two brothers, was better.

Those on Ran's side had the advantage of saying that he was older, therefore more responsible and willing to take care of anyone.

Sure.

He would make the perfect husband, some were proclaiming. But...the youngest would always want to show that he is the strongest, the more dependable one, as a result of the inferiority that had always hung with him since they were young.

It wasn't that he was, he just hadn't pushed himself to be known as much as his brother had done all those years back.

Needless to say, it was an argument that would never see an end. At least not until the two left the school behind and continued up to wherever the future would take them.

It was amusing, from your point of view, to hear all of these discussions. For years now you had known the two, as close friends who had grown up on the same street, so you knew everything that there was to them, right down to what they actually did when they said they were studying.

Definitely something that the girls would be pushed back by if they ever found out.

But, if it really came down to it, you probably wouldn't be able to pick one out of the pack that they came in, either.

They both had their merits and faults, and, truth be told, neither of the two were that much of a pleasure to be around with, as much as their fans would beg to differ.

One thing was for sure, though. It had come into the light when the three of you had been hanging out one afternoon, without much else to do.

You had asked the youngest about what he thought about his notorious lower level when it came to comparing him with his brother.

It had simply been a spur of the moment, and you hadn't expected him to actually give a sorrowful response.

He was well aware that he was viewed as the weaker brother of the two, and as much as he'd try to prove otherwise, it had always been something that would eat away at him.

Naturally, both you and Ran had jumped to convince him that he was far from a weak person.

The fact that he was viewed as such meant nothing at all when it came down to the reality of what he was, and that there was no point in even listening to those ignorant - and frankly, irrelevant - opinions about himself.

At the end of the day, although you would never openly admit it near the oblivious fangirls, you held a considerable amount of affection towards the two of them.

Of course, they had their odd moments in which you only wished to hit them around the head with Ran's metal bar; but, all in all, they would always be your childhood friends.

So choosing between them was simply out of the question.

Both of them held an equal importance to you, so when a peculiar feeling started growing for one of them, you quickly averted it so it would be felt for the two, whatever it were to be.

They were two peas in a pod, and you weren't about to change this because of a measly crush.

However, the thought would only bug you more whenever you were all together. Such as the current situation, sat right between the two of them on the comfort of their couch.

Before even coming over, you had mentally ordered yourself to disregard the ridiculous thoughts that had flooded your mind.

The girls back at school hadn't help with the problem one bit, if anything they worsened the conflictive feelings; and now you were to spend the afternoon with the two.

One could only think that all odds were against them in such situations.

Head resting on Ran's shoulder, legs atop Rindou's, your eyes were fixed onto the screen before you. The reasoning behind spending the afternoon together was the airing of your favourite show.

However, you were now racking your brains over what you were supposed to do after the series ended. Watching a movie was the prime option, but you figured they would want to move from the couch and do something else.

And the two were very talkative, so you would have to, inevitably, push everything in your mind aside to prevent from even giving the smallest hint surrounding your thoughts.

Your stiffness didn't go unnoticed, and, soon enough, you felt a hand on your leg, startling you in an instant.

"What the hell is up with you today, Y/N?"

Rindou had lost all attention for what was playing on the screen, and it looked to be as though he had for a bit now. This meant he had felt your change of attitude well before he had actually asked about it.

"What? No, nothing...why?"

Knitting his eyebrows together, the blond looked over at you with a disbelieving stare. By now, you were sure Ran had shifted his interest towards the two of you.

"You've been all skittish since you got here. You got something important on your mind or what?"

Geez.

"No...I've just been thinking about something stupid, that's all. Don't worry about it, now let me watch th-"

"That being?"

Now you were cornered. From behind you, having turned to look at Rindou, a voice spoke out the question. In slight panic, you managed to come up with another way around it.

"Well...that, let's say, if I had to choose one out of the two of you, I wouldn't know who I'd pick. It's a silly question one of my friends asked today, that's all"

God bless the fan girls. You were sure to never judge them internally again, because they might have just saved your skin in the nick of time.

Your nerves calmed down as you heard Rindou chuckle at the concern, and you figured he'd just brush it off as another one of your peculiar inquiries.

However, as he fully turned towards you, it was clear that he wasn't about to let this go unfazed.

"Well, you can't just leave us like that without an answer. Go on then, if it was a life or death situation, who would it be?"

"Rindou...you know I'd get rid of both of you if I could"

You all laughed at your words, stirring the conversation into an area that you were certain you could get a hold of.

Each one of you was just as ridiculous as the next one, so it wasn't hard to divert difficult topics.

If only the youngest wasn't so damn pushy.

"On a real note, there's gotta be one of us that you like just a little more, Y/N"

Upon knowing that perhaps you had driven yourself into a dead end, you started to fumble with your fingers.

What the hell were you supposed to say? If you picked one, the other was surely to get the wrong idea.

"Um..."

A slight shift behind you made you turn your head, catching Ran just a little too close for comfort to your face. Great, just what you needed.

After a few, nerve racking, seconds in silence, it was the eldest of the two that decided to break the ice. You were all just wasting time there, after all.

"Listen...since my brother seems incapable of forming a decent sentence, what we've been trying to get at is which one you'd choose, because we've both liked you for some time now and we kinda need to know who you'd go out with"

Well.

Certainly an unexpected turn to your seemingly uneventful afternoon. It appeared that you weren't the only one struggling with the damned feeling that was a crush, but you hadn't gambled that it would be both of them...and for the same person.

You couldn't choose.

In the same way that you had to waver the feeling of more than just friendship between the two of them, there was no way you could pick one now.

It would be unfair for the other, especially since you would only be lying to yourself for saying that you felt nothing for the half that was left aside.

There was only one way out of this, unless you wanted to shatter the relationship you had built between them for the past years.

"I...both of you. I can't leave one of you out when I, well, like both of you"

A huge weight was lifted from your body the moment the brothers exchanged a look, followed by an agreeing nod. Far from the catastrophe you had gambled with, that much was sure.

As Ran leaned his head on your shoulder, Rindou gave you a bright smile, one that not everyone had the chance to say that they've seen.

"Wasn't so hard to say, now was it?"

No. What was going to be hard was having not one Haitani by your side, but two, as a partner. Sure enough, you were really going to know what their poor mother had to put up with now.

[free-pool-trash]

happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.

[anonquack]

| Hands |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 1902

Warnings: None! Just some fluff.

Summary: A late night trip to the fair with Alex. One filled with tons of hand holding, rides, and a sweet kiss to end the night!

The cold of the night was nipping at the delicate skin on your face, and it was moments like these that made you feel extremely grateful for the clothes on your back. The numerous lights set up throughout the entire place didn't help to make the cold go away. His hoodie was the only thing really keeping you warm. The softness of it against your skin, the warmth it provided.

The same could be said about his hands as they reached out for your own, soon finding them and interlacing his fingers with yours. Your eyes immediately fell to look down at your now conjoined hands before looking over at him.

He had the prettiest, softest, smile on his face when your eyes finally met his. The tip of his nose was slightly red, notifying you that he was cold too, but it was a perfect night to come out to the fair. Perfect night to check out all the rides and ridiculously difficult games that gave the weirdest prices. Perfect night to be with him.

After a few moments of heartwarming eye contact, he finally tugged at your hand before beginning to lead the way into the fair. You let him drag you to wherever he wanted, taking this time to look around and really take in the beauty of this fair.

The lights were shining brightly, different colors adorning the rides, small shops, and food stands. Although it was getting late, the fair seemed to be running as if it was daytime, and the crowds were very telling of the fact that it would not be closing anytime soon.

As your attention focused back on Alex, you realized you were standing in front of a rollercoaster, nothing too scary yet not a baby ride. You knew he loved the thrill of rollercoasters, so you weren't surprised nor bothered by this. The line wasn't too long, you would most likely get on the next turn, and this allowed you to view what the ride would be like.

The cheerful and adrenaline filled screams told you the rollercoaster would be a good one. A small glance at Alex and it was clear he was looking forward to finally being seated. Another telling sign of this was the gentle squeeze to your hand, something he did out of excitement or as a form of reassurance.

Before either of you knew, you were seated side by side, ready for the ride to begin. His hand never left yours, fingers still intertwined with no signs of leaving each other's grasps.

"Are you scared?" You asked as you felt his grip tighten slightly, to which he scoffed. Of course, you knew he wasn't, but couldn't help and tease him a bit.

"Of course not. I'm just trying to reassure you in case you're scared." He said in a mocking tone as he let go of your hand.

You smiled at that but quickly intertwined your fingers back together, not wanting to lose the warmth he provided on this cold night. Before he could answer or give any reaction, you looked forward and braced yourself for the ride that was about to begin.

–

After multiple rollercoaster rides, you found yourself sitting at a table with Alex as you both enjoyed some of the food you've bought at the stands. He had wanted to try a bit of everything, claiming it wasn't often that you two would get to eat 'classic fair food'.

As you ate, you looked across the table at Alex, noticing the hair strands crazily sticking out of his beanie from the wind and the multiple rollercoaster rides. You reached over with your clean hand, gently fixing and tucking those strands away. He seemed confused by your actions before realizing what you were doing, to which he gave you a thankful smile.

Your hand lingered for a bit on his face before pulling it away and continuing to eat. He had been talking about how fun those rollercoasters had been, and you agreed wholeheartedly. Some you'd both been a little iffy in regards to how safe they were, but overall you two were having fun.

As you finished the last bites of food on your plate, you pointed at one of the games that was nearby. This caught his attention and he looked over to where you were pointing.

"I'm going to win you something from that stand. Whatever you want, no matter the difficulty." You declared, from afar it didn't really look that hard, but honestly these were mostly scams. Games that would get you to believe you almost won in order to have you continuously waste money.

"Yeah?" He asked with a raised brow as he looked over at the stand you'd pointed at. "Well, I'll win you something from that stand." He said as he pointed to the one across the one you'd chosen. "And it'll be even better than whatever you manage to win."

You playfully rolled your eyes at his challenging tone. "Why wouldn't you want me to get the best price? It's for you, afterall. Please get your head in the game, Alex." You stood up from your seat, throwing away the plates into a nearby trash before looking over at him. "Come and see what winning is like."

A direct challenge, and one he would not back down from. He smiled, throwing his trash away as well before following you off to the stand.

–

You'd spent the last 5 minutes trying to focus and better your aim. These balloons wouldn't pop themselves. Certain balloons would get you better prices, and you planned on getting the best of the best for him.

Alex watched, a knowing look on his face as he observed you concentrating before throwing the dart at the balloons. Surely enough, you had managed to pop enough of the balloons to earn you a prize from the row with the bigger plushies. You set the extra dart down, turning to look at him with a grin on your face.

"Choose whichever you want, the choice is yours." You pointed out at the row of plushies he could pick from. He smiled and took a moment to examine all of his choices. After a few seconds, he finally pointed at the one he wanted, and the employee took it down for him.

Before he could even try to win you one, your hand was holding his and leading him away and towards the large ferris wheel towards the center of the fair. There was small protests from him but he quickly shut up as he realized where you two were going.

Luckily for you two, there wasn't much of a line as it had gotten rather late, families worried over their children staying up past their bedtimes or being out in the cold for too long. You two had honestly forgotten about the cold since you'd been running around, adrenaline constantly pumping through your bodies.

As you two got on the ferris wheel, you sat beside him and he placed the plushie onto his lap. You smiled and gently squished his cheek in adoration. "It's like our child."

This caught him offguard, eyes wide as he turned to look at you before letting out a laugh, you couldn't help but laugh as well. His laugh was so contagious and he just exuded so much happiness at this very moment.

"Our child?" He questioned once he finally caught his breath, small smile on his lips as the ferris wheel finally began to move. You simply nodded your head, as if it was the most obvious thing.

"Yes, our child. It looks just like you." You took the plushie from his lap and held it up to his face, to which he gently pushed it away with a small shake of his head.

"It looks more like you." He said after a few moments. This caught you by surprise, not expecting him to play along with the idea of this inanimate object being your love child.

"It looks like both of us." You finally settled as you placed the plushie back onto his lap. He gave a simple hum before you two focused on the view. This was the beauty of staying up with Alex, and consequently being on a ferris wheel.

You were quite high off the ground. From here, all the food stands and other rollercoasters were visible, along with the people that were still around. The colorful lights were shining, leaving nothing dull for the eye to see. Alex was absent-mindedly staring out at the sights, fingers curling around the metal that kept you guys from falling off the pod.

As the ferris wheel came to a stop, you could feel your pod moving around quite a bit, which only made your stomach hurt a little. You looked over at Alex before realizing you were up at the very top. The view was mesmerizing, but it couldn't even begin to compare to how he looked at this very moment.

His eyes met yours again, a bit more tired, not as much energy, but still very content. The tip of his nose had remained red as it got later and subsequently got colder. His cheeks were flushed as well, making you wonder why he hadn't covered up enough if he knew you two would be out late. At the sight of his cold form, you reached out and held his hand yet again.

It seemed to be a recurring theme tonight.

His fingers intertwined with yours as he smiled over at you. An idea came to mind, and there wasn't much of a reason for you to not act on it.

You leaned in and connected your lips with his, to which he did not protest, gladly kissing back. You smiled since the shock was noticeable at first, but he had melted into it just as fast. You had wanted to kiss him at the top of the ferris wheel, with this beautiful view. Yes, Alex was the view. The fair and starry night contributed too, sure.

The kiss lasted for a bit longer than you had planned, Alex seeming to have grown energized by the contact of your lips against his. He only pulled away once the pod moved again, causing it to shake and stir the people around just a bit.

You smiled as you made eye contact with him, noticing how much more flushed his cheeks looked. God, he was so attractive. So pretty. He let out a laugh before shaking his head and avoiding eye contact.

"I can't believe you... initiating a makeout session with me at the top of a ferris wheel.. you're so cheeky." He seemed to be complaining but his eager kissing just a few seconds ago told you otherwise.

You let out a laugh as you came closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist in order to seek the warmth he offered, and it wasn't long before his arm was wrapped around you to provide said warmth.

As you rested your head on his chest/shoulder, you couldn't help but feel relaxed. You were so happy with how the night had gone, and now it was coming to an end in the most perfect way.

You and Alex, holding each other close and enjoying the view and each other's company. You couldn't ask for anything else.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Spin the wheel: Scott with Self-sacrifice in Abandoned Building. 💙

As Long As You’re Safe

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort Characters: Scott, John

So the challenge with this one was figuring out who he was sacrificing himself for.  After all, when it’s Scott we’re talking about, it could be literally anyone!  I think I’ve figured it out now, though.  Maybe.

Spin the wheel of whump and give me a character!

It wasn’t usual, having his immediately younger brother with him on a rescue.  Not in person, at least.  Normally he’d only be a voice, maybe a hologram if the situation really needed it, but today circumstances had conspired and John was down on Earth, jumping out of Thunderbird One behind him.

Scott was alert for the sound of a stumble, but John had been down on Earth for a little while now and his equilibrium was mostly adjusted to the inconvenience of gravity.  He landed lightly on his feet, and took barely a moment to make sure his centre of gravity was where it should be before taking the steps that brought him to Scott’s side.

“There are two life signs inside,” EOS chirped from his communicator, stepping in for John’s usual role.  She was getting better, although Scott knew that no matter how good she got, he’d never be the one to tell John to leave Thunderbird Five for good.  His brother belonged there, regardless if any AIs could do his job just as well as he could (she couldn’t, but there was almost certainly a yet tacked onto that sentence).

“Have you managed to make contact?” he asked, overriding John as he began to make his own inquiries.  Right, the problem with having John on the ground and not as the eye in the sky.  For all that Scott was the commander, John had never settled into obedience the way the others had, mostly because his role was to see the things Scott couldn’t and make sure Scott didn’t overlook them.

It worked when John was in space and Scott was on Earth.  It worked less well when they were together.

“They are unresponsive to my attempts to engage,” EOS informed him.  “Yes, John, that is the case.”

Of course, the AI could still ‘hear’ them both even when they talked over each other.  Unfortunately, Scott hadn’t heard John’s question.

“What’s the case?” he asked.  John sighed.

“Not important, Scott.  What’s your plan?”

Reminding himself to trust John on that - it was no doubt the sort of query he made on Five that they never even knew about unless the answer was relevant - Scott eyed the crumbling building in front of them.  It was simple, really.  They just had to get inside, find the people trapped, and get them out before the rest of the old warehouse came crashing down.  Nothing he hadn’t done before, although admittedly it would have been nice if Thunderbird Two had been able to come along with a pod for extra protection.  But Thunderbird Two was off elsewhere and the job could be done fine without her.

“Nothing elaborate,” he said, bringing up the schematics on his wrist controller.  “This entrance is the closest one to the life signs that’s still stable, so we’ll go in through here, find them, and evac.”

“F.A.B.,” John acknowledged, donning his helmet.  Scott followed suit, before dismissing the hologram and leading the way.

Everything went according to plan with their entrance.  The building held, that section not quite so derelict it was ready to collapse on top of them as per the schematics and his own observations, and they found the two life signs - a pair of teenagers who seemed to have made the mistake of considering an old and derelict warehouse romantic.

Not that Scott could really judge - and John might be a perfect professional, but he was more than capable of being professional while still silently reminding Scott that his little brother knew more about his own teenage escapades than he sometimes wished - as he got to work freeing the first unconscious teenager from the debris they were under.

Beside him, John was working on the second, who was a little less unconscious but still far from coherent.  It made Scott wonder who’d put in the distress call, because neither teen seemed to be in any condition to do so, and would probably have been too mortified in the first place.

With neither teen in a condition to make their lives additionally complicated by being uncooperative, it didn’t take long for Scott and John to have them freed and checked over for injuries.  Nothing that made moving them a bad idea, thankfully, and with one teenager each, they hurried back towards the exit.

They almost made it.

A sudden rumble, like an earthquake except this wasn’t a live quake zone and there shouldn’t be earthquakes here, and the building caved.  By himself, Scott would have been able to get out - he was fast, sure-footed, and even carrying a teenager would probably have been able to escape.

John stumbled, unable to keep his balance on the shifting ground with a teenager over his shoulder, and Scott could see as clear as day that he was going to fall.  By itself, that wasn’t enough of a reason for him to stop - he had his own teenager to get to safety - but the roof was falling down on top of them with its thick, heavy beams of steel, and John was right underneath a particularly large one.

Scott leapt the distance between them, hurtling into him with all the speed he could muster and all but throwing him out of the way.  He lost his grip on the teenager, their limp body slipping from his hands to land on top of John, but that wasn’t a bad thing, because while John was now clear of the beam, the same could not be said for Scott.

It slammed across his shoulders, forcing him to the ground and crushing on top of him.  He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe where it rested on his upper back, compressing his lungs to the chorus of bones breaking like twigs.

“Scott!”

John was scrambling to his feet, turquoise eyes wide. The teenagers lay at his feet, now both unconscious.

It was them Scott looked at meaningfully.

“Get... th- out,” he gasped, rasping against lungs that couldn’t breathe and bones that screamed.  “Res... cue.”

John had to get the teenagers out before they were crushed.  Had to get himself out before he stumbled and fell again, with no big brother to protect him this time.

There was anguish in those wide turquoise eyes, but no protest.  John understood, even if he hated it.  John would obey, because while he was normally the last to listen to orders, in this case he was the only brother that wouldn’t waste time trying to find a way to get all of them out at once when there were two simple rescues and one complex.  The only one who would do the same probability calculations as Scott and come to the same conclusions.

“I’ll be right back, Scott,” he promised, bending down and throwing one teenager over each shoulder.  He staggered under the weight, and Scott watched in horror as he almost overbalanced before catching himself.  “Hold on.”

Any response Scott could try to form to that was snatched away before it even started, and he watched helplessly as IR blue stumbled away from him, leaving him behind.  Another beam slammed down, narrowly missing him - and at the other end narrowly missing John, putting Scott’s heart in his mouth.

He could take being left as long as it meant his brother got out.  He could take anything, swallow the breathless scream before it started as something heavy landed on the back of his knee and something else went crunch, as long as John was safe.

The physical pain could never, ever, top the heartbreak if it was his brother in his place.

More shrapnel was falling, pelting down like aggressive rain, and through it all Scott saw John duck under the exit and escape, limp teenagers in tow.  Then the rest of the building came down and he was left in darkness.

[weasleypogues]

actions over words (j.m.)

request: can i get a jj x reader in which he starts getting insecure about their relationship because she almost never says i love you first but because i love you too always sounds insincere to her, just one huge misunderstanding but fluff at the end.

sorry this is so short, but i hope u liked it xx :)

masterlist.

it messed with jj’s head time after time. the first time he said i love you, he got freaked out because maybe it was too soon and that’s why you didn’t respond. the second time, where he was sure he had given you enough time but didn’t want to confront you about it, you had just given him a smile and kiss on the cheek. after both times, he had texted john b and pope bugging out because he was too afraid to talk to you about it but it kept wracking his brain as to why you never said the simple words i love you too.

what he didn’t know was that you definitely felt the same way about him. you expressed your love in actions over words. you cuddled him, kissed him, hugged him. you would bring him his favorite candy bars on your way back from work. you’d even buy him new juul pods. you always told him to put on his seatbelt in the car. you put little notes in his shorts for when he had a break between work and could read them. you loved to cook food for him, especially his favorite meal which was chicken and waffles. and he loved it when you did this for him, but what was unspoken between the two of you was this was your way of expressing it.

jj was just convinced that you spoiled him, it’s not like he was complaining. but nothing worked his way through his mind that this was your way of expressing that deep love for him. you even talked it out with sarah and kiara that you were afraid of giving him the “i love you too” or receiving it from him because you thought it sounded so insincere and expected. you hated to see the way his face dropped each time you would pull him in for a kiss instead of saying the actual words. but in your mind, your actions spoke louder than your words.

it wasn’t your fault or his fault this is how both of you acted. it wasn’t your fault that it was the complete opposite of each other. but jj was beginning to get fed up and question everything because everything in his mind was so unclear, but he didn’t want to confront you or upset you. however, john b and pope convinced him to do so because “you should want the truth in your relationships”. the guys’ pep talk led to this exact moment, as the two of you were lying in your bed. 

your head was against his chest and you played with his rough hands that were wrapped around you, comfortingly. it wasn’t unusual that you two would sit in each other’s company, needing a little downtime and cuddle time from the hectic lives you two had. but it was unusual when you heard jj’s heart start to increase its pace from the inside of his chest, out of nowhere.

you lifted your head up and glanced up to his eyes to see his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes quickly dart to yours. you clearly had just interrupted a stressful thought that was roaming through his mind.

“what’s up, bub?” you asked while repositioning yourself cross-legged in front of him. you took his hand in yours and rubbed your thumb back and forth. although, you were taken aback when he pulled his hand out of your grasp and avoided all eye contact with you. “okay?........wanna get something off your chest?”

“how come you never say it back?” jj blatantly asked, his voice cracking slightly. he still looked like he was deeply engaged with your hanger on the back of your door but you just knew he felt too nervous to look you in the face. 

you knew exactly what he was talking about and you felt your stomach drop. you knew this time would come but you got nervous at the fact that maybe he would be more angry and less understanding. “what?” you responded with, just making sure you two were on the same page.

“like you don’t know.... you never say ‘i love you, too’. i always feel like i’m the first one to initiate it and after a couple of failed attempts, i feel like my feelings are being played with. do you not feel the same? am i wasting my time in a one-sided relationship?” jj spilled out, finally looking into your eyes. you could tell he looked overwhelmed. i mean, the girl he’s head over heels for never says i love you back but instead just buys him juul pods here and there. in your mind, all those little acts of love mean the world but in his head, he doesn’t know their intention and just thinks you’re trying to make up for that fact that you never say it back.

you look down at your hands that were interlocked and your thumbs fiddled together. as you took a deep breath in, you glanced back up at jj who had tears brimming his eyes. “i love you. to the moon and back. a million times. i just- i got too nervous to say it first. but when you said it first, my heart literally bursted. but my whole life,” you started, and as you closed your eyes and ran your hands through your hair and continued, “i’ve heard adults say ‘i love you too’ and in my eyes, in my head, it just sounds like an automated response. it sounds robotic. i wanted you to know that i loved you back but i wanted it to seem more sincere. i thought i fucked up then so i’ve been to scared to say it first since so i’ve been trying to overcompensate with actions instead of words. and when you did it again i felt so insanely bad but i just didn’t know how to bring this up to you whatsoever.”

you opened your eyes to see him staring back into yours, a little softer than before. he bit his lip and looked down, “i get it.” and he nodded and grabbed your hands. 

“i’m sorry, baby. i should’ve explained this to you but i knew this confrontation would’ve happened eventually and i was just scared to lose you if you somehow didn’t understand. but i was wrong and should’ve just been honest with you from the start. i love you, jj.” you gave him a small smile and your eyebrows were furrowed together in fear of his response.

jj cupped your face and pulled you in for a gentle kiss. “as long as we’ve cleared the air.” he placed another kiss on your forehead, “i love you, too.” 

he looked at you with a smirk and raised eyebrows, wondering if you got his small little tease/joke. you rolled your eyes, giggling and shoved him lightly, “we gotta figure something unique to say in place of that.”

“how about ‘i love you my sexy, surfer, insanely tough boyfriend’?” jj inquired, trying to get another giggle out of you. you couldn’t fight the goofy smile that appeared on your face and shook your head.

“in your dreams, lover boy.” you answered. you ran your fingers through his hair and pulled him in for one last kiss.

[georgiedx]

Don’t blink

Summary - When Y/N, Jay’s partner is taken during an undercover op, what will the team have to do to get her back?

Read part 2 - https://georgiedx.tumblr.com/post/643582775508729857/summary-in-the-fallout-of-an-undercover-op-gone

Word count - 2k

Warnings - potential abuse and sexual assault

“What the hell just happened!” Voight shouted as he stormed up the bullpen stairs. His subordinates stared back at him, dumbfounded, as they too were processing the chaos that had just unfolded.

Kevin was the first to speak up, “Sarge, slow down…” He was interrupted but the harsh shouts of his sergeant. “Don’t tell me to calm down Kevin! One of my detectives was just abducted and not one person here can care to explain? Huh? Not even her partner. Halstead?”

Jay cast his eyes down to avoid the burn of Voight’s stare. He was ashamed. He was still processing. How had this all happened? Why didn’t he protect her?

“Sarge, I don’t know what to tell you, those guys, they just blew up, snapped. They pulled guns, put one to Y/N’s head, and dragged her into a truck that was waiting in the alley around the back. It must have been a setup, Sarge.” Jay replied, his voice laced with guilt.

“Ruzek, I thought you said your CI was solid?” Voight turned his anger to Adam. “He was...or at least I thought he was. Look, Sarge, I’m so sorr…”

“Enough. I don’t want to hear it. We just need to focus on getting Y/N back.” His sergeant snapped back. The rest of the unit mumbled in agreement, heads hanging low, all weighed down by the guilt of the parts they played in allowing Y/N, their partner and friend, to be thrown into the back of a truck by violent criminals.

...

The team all sat around the bullpen as their sergeant emerged from his office. “Right, talk to me, what do we have?”

Jay jumped to his feet and walked over to the board to stick up a photo. “This is Nicolas Heath. Vice has had him on their radar for years, he’s a known pimp, big in cross-state trafficking, and has priors for sexual assault, trafficking, and fraud.

Jay placed two more photos up underneath Heath’s. “These were the guys at the meet last night. They were the ones who took Y/N. They have similar priors to Heath but seem to be more like his lieutenants. We’ve got them on pods driving Y/N away in a black SUV Toyota. That was tracked to a house in Evanston where we think Y/N is being held.”

Ruzek walked up to the board next, reading a file in his hand. “That checks out, my CI is sitting in interrogation room 2 right now. The prick told me he’s been taking money from Heath over the last few weeks. In exchange, he invited girls to parties at clubs that Heath runs. My CI was getting nervous so reached out to me with fake info about Heath, he wanted us to take Heath down to save his own ass.” Ruzek then pinned up a few photos of a large, fortified, white house. “He tells me this is one of Heath’s places, it’s in Evanston so that checks with the footage of the SUV. But he also tells me it’s heavily secured with armed guards and it’s likely that if Heath has Y/N and we try to move on it, she’ll be dead before we get through the front door.”

The whole team sighed in frustration. They knew what type of guy Heath was and the longer they waited the worse things would potentially be for Y/N. Finally their superior spoke up. “Adam get your CI to reach out to Heath. We need to know if Y/N’s cover is still intact. If we can’t go in through the front door maybe we can set up a ‘buy’ and get our girl back.”

The team shook their heads in a mix of frustration and disgust at the thought of having to ‘buy’ back their teammate from that monster like she’s some object.

…

A few hours later and Jay was down in the roll-up, fixing a wire to the buttons of his shirt. A plan had been formulated; Halstead was going to meet a contact of Heath’s, posing as a pimp looking to move some ‘product’.

A quick, yet painful, phone call between Adam’s CI and Heath revealed he was still unaware Y/N was a cop. Jay had said on the phone he was looking for a specific type of ‘product’ and once he described a girl roughly matching Y/N’s description, Heath said he had someone for Jay. A meet was set at 9 pm by the docks.

The whole team was on edge. Some were scared of what Y/N was going through in the hands of the monster that is Nicolas Heath, most were nervous of the ‘buy’ that was soon to go down, but all were feeling guilty for allowing Y/N to be in this situation in the first place.

Once the wire was fixed and the van set, the team rolled out the back of district 21, with a thousand things racing through their minds.

They arrived at the predetermined meet point and waited. The surveillance van with Kevin, Adam, and Voight was hidden around the corner, whilst Jay waited in a UC truck parked out in the open. His jean-covered legs were bouncing up and down, but not from the cold. His partner, no, his best friend was out there somewhere in the hands of a rapist-pimp, alone and defenseless.

After 20 mins, a tattered grey van turned the corner and parked opposite Jay’s truck. Halstead sent a quick text to Voight notifying them of its arrival and then climbed out the truck. He looked on trying to see his partner beyond the blaring headlights of that grey van. When the white beams were cut he finally locked eyes with her.

When he saw her weak and bruised body with legs barely holding herself up, in a vice grip of two thugs, Jay’s instincts were to run to her, but he couldn’t. Thug 1 had a Glock 19 jammed into the side of her head and Thug 2 had one trained on him. He had to play this smart. The only way to get Y/N out of this was to play along with the ‘buy’, despite it making him sick to his stomach.

Jay casually walked around to the back of the truck and pulled out a black bag from the back. He checked his watch, stalled a bit to not seem too eager, put a stick of gum in his mouth, began to chew, stalled some more, and finally walked back towards Heath and his thugs.

“What you got for me then?” Jay questioned nonchalantly as he nodded towards his partner. “She what I asked for? Cuz I got a lotta cash here and I ain’t about to waste it.” Saying this was breaking him, but he had to play along.

“Yeh this one’ll be worth your trouble, she’s feisty, trust me.” Heath laughed back at his ‘buyer’. Jay’s heart sank. What had he meant by ‘trust me’? What had he done to her?

“Halstead keep your cool, flash him the money and get him to hand Y/N over” his sergeant’s voice spoke through his earpiece. Jay listened and opened to bag up to show Heath he meant business. “It’s all there. Hand her over, I wanna get a look before I hand this over.” Jay swallowed the sick in his mouth as he watched his partner shift uncomfortably between the two men.

When Y/N cast her eyes back up to look at Jay, he could see her tears in her eyes, despite the bruises there. His body kept playing the role but his eyes were calling out to her, he was internally begging she could see through his facade.

Thug 2 lowered his gun once Jay had flashed the money. Thug 1 kept his gun tight against Y/N’s head as he roughly pulled her towards Jay. He released her and she stumbled, on weak legs, the short distance to Jay.

Jay, careful not to grab at bruises, yanked on her arms and roughly pulled her towards the truck. He wanted to hug her, hold her and wipe her tears but he couldn’t. There were still 3 armed men 10 ft away who couldn’t know they were cops.

Y/N let out a small cry as the zip ties on her wrists dug deeper into the red, bleeding skin. “Quiet!” Jay demanded. “Move. Go on.” He pushed her around the back of the truck, attempting to shield her from any further potential dangers.

“Your money’s all there. Was a pleasure doing business with you.” Jay called out to Heath and his thugs.

“Pleasure’s all mine man, anytime. Enjoy that one” he nodded his head towards Y/N and stuck out a hand to Jay. Reluctantly Jay shook it and forced himself to say “Oh I will.”

The three men climbed back in their van with the money and reversed around the corner.

Shortly after, sirens and shouts of Chicago PD could be heard but Jay paid no attention. As soon as that van was out of sight Jay ran around the truck to Y/N.

Only now did he have a chance to fully take in her appearance. Her wrists were bleeding underneath zip ties. Arms were painted a horrible mix of blacks and blue. Blood was drying around her eyebrows and lip. Her left eye was swollen and purple and both were glistening with tears. She was in a short dress, ripped and filthy. But worst of all she was shaking violently, perhaps from the lack of layers and cold but more likely from the trauma of the last 24 hours. And that thought haunted Jay, he knew it always would.

When he finally reached her small and trembling body he cut the ties quickly and engulfed her in a hug. She sunk into his warm and then down to the floor. Jay went down with her, just holding her close as sobs shook through her body.

A hand came up to her face and he wiped her tears away and tucked her hair behind her ear. His strong arms held onto her so tight she thought she might crumble into a hundred pieces if he ever let go. So he didn’t.

“Shh. You’re okay. You’re okay Y/N/N. I got you. You’re safe.” He whispered into her ears. “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He began to choke up and the sound of her sobs. How had he let this happen?

Shortly after, the surveillance van and a few patrol cars arrived on scene. As Voight and the other officers climbed out their vehicles they were horrified at the scene before them.

Y/N looked like she’d been through hell. She was clinging to her partner desperately. Her shaking, although likely caused by a state of shock, prompted Adam to take off his coat and walk over to the partners on the floor.

He placed the coat on her shoulders and then squeezed one, trying to show his support and love and remorse through the action. Kevin walked over next with a blanket and knelt down with them.

“You’re okay Y/N. We’re here. You’re safe.” Jay kept repeating those words to his broken best friend, whom he held in his arms. Only when she heard the gruff voice of her sergeant did she take her head off Jay’s chest and lookup.

“I’m sorry Y/L/N. You’re gonna be okay kid.” Spoke Voight to his detective. The four men consoled their teammate, their family member, for a while longer. Their voices cracked and caught as they continued to whisper words of comfort until the ambulance arrived to take her to safety.

Read part 2 - https://georgiedx.tumblr.com/post/643582775508729857/summary-in-the-fallout-of-an-undercover-op-gone

I hope you guys liked it! Again I have no idea what I’m doing, this is just fun and a nice little escape for me.

[valdarian]

Invader Zim-Infinite Pink ch.8

Summary: Selfish Arc, part 1

Past, present and future. A look into Zim and Theron's past. Someone doesn't have the best intentions for Zim. WARNING: This arc will deal with potentially triggering/uncomfortable topics. Please read with caution!

Notes:

DISCLAIMER AND WARNING: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION! ============================1.) There will be things that will be covered, that could be highly uncomfortable or triggering to some. This fic is intended for a mature audience and will be covering some traumatic topics. The events in this story are entirely fictional and merely done for dramatic effect. However, they are not intended to poke fun or downplay the real-life seriousness of these issues. 2.) It will contain references and implied teacher/student relations and references and implied sexual and physical abuse/assault. Dubious consent. Abuse of power/coercion. Murder/attempted murder. If you or anyone you know is suffering from any kind of abuse or struggling with recovery, please do not be afraid to get help. There is more options than you may think. Contact your local authority or nearest shelter. Here are a few sites that may help you to Identify and Report Abuse or discover resources for recovery: thehotline.org, childhelp.org or victimconnect.org National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 800-273-8255 ================================

Author notes:

I apologize for the late update and want to again thank everyone who has read this story. You guys are great.

I had wanted this arc to be condensed into one chapter, so as to be easily skippable. However I felt that there was a lot more I wanted to add to the story, that unfortunately tied closely around this time period/event. As this does play a large role in the story in regards to the Tallest past and a certain character. Initially it resulted in me wanting to have this arc written out in its entirety before i uploaded as a result. Which is why it's taken me a bit longer to upload then usual. I have quite a bit of the rest of the work finished, but I know i'm bound to add more to it. However since it has been so long already, i said screw it and went ahead and posted this part now.

Because of that, I put warnings on Bid's sections instead. Incase anyone wishes to skip these parts. Bid was intentionally made to be the slimiest creep.

Please be advised.

Most of all, stay safe.

==(WARNING ON!)==

(Bid's office: Undetermined time. Bid's POV)

Bid rested his chin on one hand, tapping the desk with the other.

It turns out that Zim had only been cleaning the archive of his own volition. Bid had investigated nearly every nook and cranny with a feverish mania after Zim had left. There hadn't been anything out of the ordinary. Not a single camera or recording device.

It still left him on edge.

What if he had missed one?

He'd been so paranoid, he hadn't even got to finish the rest of his favorite sweet.

Someone had entered his secret domain. Bid frowned, he still wasn't too pleased that he might have to abandon his favorite spot.

It wasn't as if he cared if Zim came to the archive, now that he'd set his sights on the younger Irken. It would definitely make everything a lot easier...but, that other Irken could be trouble.

Perhaps he should plan around that.

It wasn't like it was that unheard of for students to have...accidents.

Oh, well! He let out a small laugh. It's not like it was his fault, maybe they just needed to be more careful.

He tapped the desk again. A sigh of longing left him.

What a pretty little Irken.

Even in the dark of the archive. Those large magenta eyes had shown brightly, drawing him right in. He'd barely been able to contain himself, still lingering with unspent arousal.

That ridiculous cleaning gear coming off, revealing such an Irken! It had been like a present being unwrapped. Just for him! Zim must have known, maybe that's the real reason the smaller Irken had been down there. Zim had purposely been teasing him, trying to entice him! Bid was sure of it now.

He had been so consumed by thoughts of the other since then.

What else lay hidden beneath the rest of those clothes?

His pants suddenly felt too tight for comfort. He'd been holding back from his sweets since then.

He'd been too careful to slip up now.

Even the control brains hadn't caught onto him. So much time spent subtlety disconnecting the information charge pods(1) on his level. Keeping a careful eye on his selective sweets. Getting rid of any hiccups.

Days passed, then weeks. No one came for him.

He was being ridiculous! Bid had nothing to fear, but of course, why should he? The laws were stupid anyhow. They were all pent up. How was keeping them strict and stiff helping anyone? Obviously, anyone in his position would do the same. Why should he force himself to hold back? They all wanted this too. Bid was sure of it. They just didn't have the backbone to take it.

His hand traveled down to help alleviate his 'problem'. A moan left him.

How sweetly would those magenta eyes look drowned in ecstasy? A few strokes.

How would Zim's skin feel? Would it be as soft as it looked under his touch? His hand moved faster.

How would Zim's voice sound, begging him for more? He was so close!

If it hadn't been for that other Irken...

His eyes narrowed. Mood suddenly ruined.

He could feel himself deflate, after a moment he tucked himself back into his pants with an angry sigh.

Just another thing that other Irken ruined for him!

Zim still hadn't returned to the archive yet.

Bid was becoming impatient.

What of that other Irken? What was their relationship with Zim? What if they already had a taste of what was his? What if they were doing it right now!

One of his hands turned into a fist. He was wasting precious time!

How Zim had flown under his rader was beyond the instructor. It didn't even matter if Zim was apart of another class. He wasn't going to let the smaller Irken out of his sight now.

All it did, was make Zim into a far sweeter, forbidden fruit!

Bid couldn't wait any longer.

A knock to his office door interrupted his thoughts. He quickly made himself presentable.

"Enter."

A young, pretty eyed Irken came into view.

Just his type.

"What did you find out?"

The smaller Irken shifted in nervousness as they approached him, handing over a tablet. Bid couldn't help but grin.

"He has a very small group of friends. Although they seem to only interact during class or lunch periods. An Irken named Skoodge is the only one he seems to regularly hang out with. Which makes sense since their partners and al-" Bid's unimpressed looked had them quickly continuing their report. "Skoodge is a fairly popular Irken and in the top twenty combatants in the academy."

Skoodge? That name sounded familiar. Voot had probably boasted about the Irken at some point. A frown tugged at his lips. Was this that other Irken in the archive? He was popular? That could pose a problem. He'd think about that later though.

Bid swiped through the tablet as pictures of the robust irken appeared. An unimpressed scoff left him.

Top twenty combatants? When had the Academies standards gotten so low?

However, this wasn't the other Irken in the archive. Bid hadn't gotten a good look at them as he watched behind a bookshelf. He only knew that they were a good head or two taller than Zim. This...Skoodge was far too short, only a inch or two taller than Zim.

He made a motion for the younger Irken to continue.

"Recently however, he had been spending more time with one of his other classmates..."

Bid supposed an Irken as pretty as Zim would be the center of attention.

However, that just wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all.

He needed to cut any unnecessary ties that stood between them. Zim would understand. He would make him understand.

"Who else?"

They hesitated for a moment. This didn't go unnoticed by the older Irken.

"Who?" His patience was thin.

"V-Voel, He is the current highes-"

His fist slammed onto the desk.

Voel! He knew that name. Just another Voot in the making! Voot made it well known his class had the best talents, rubbing it in Bid's face any time he could.

Where did that old qrooza even get off!

Even though he, Bid had been the top of his own year when he had graduated. He nearly made it into the elites for Irk's sake! Before he was so wrongfully snubbed a better position. Forced to waste away teaching ungrateful smeets. He was too good for this!

'You need to learn some humility.' 'You're too reckless.' His old commander had said. 'It'll do you some good.' 'You should be honored." His commander had said.

What a load of Srull shit!

If he ever saw them again!

Why did he need to learn such things? Enemies didn't care about humility! So what if he was a little reckless! He always ended up the victor regardless.

All that mattered in life, was how much stronger you were than those beneath you. Power was everything and he deserved it all.

That's why he had contested Voot at one point in the past. Voot was always mocking him. He was sure of it. He'd never been good enough for the older Irken. Not as a cadet and not as a fellow instructor.

He'd show him! The need to wipe that smug grin off the older Irken's face was all too much. There's no reason for him to lose. Bid was younger and obviously a far better fighter than that that decrepit Irken!

Yet, he'd been humiliated.

Now the old coot had recently been asking him for another rematch. Voot really took him for a fool!

It not like it was even his fault! His students were just terrible. While the control brains gave him plenty of sweets. The rest were all duds. They weren't worth their weight in snacks!

Why did he have to suffer such mistreatment?

"Anyone else" He growled.

The smaller Irken stuttered. "N-No. Z-Zim is not a very social Irken. In Fact, I haven't seen him with Vo-" Bid's eyes narrowed. "...Uh, um with that Irken for a while now."

Bid let out a small hum. That was good then. His sweet was doing their job well. Maybe he was just worrying over nothing.

"What does he do when not interacting with his...friends?" Bid said, an edge still to his voice.

"He often spends most of his time studying. Zim is among the top three in educational academics in the entire academy." They continued.

Putting the issue of Voot's prized student aside, Bid focused in on that.

So, Zim was highly intelligent? It definitely put more legitimacy to the young Irken's story. Yet, it also posed its own problem. It might not be as easy as he thought to engage the younger Irken. Zim might be too smart for his own good.

However, what game was fun without a little challenge?

"He likes to study? Where does he spend most of this time?" Zim hadn't stepped foot back into the archive as far as he knew. There had to be someplace else the smaller Irken went then.

"His room, I think." They wrung their hands.

"You think..."

Void! Voot's dorms were both on the other side and on another level of the academy. It would be difficult to explain why he was wandering another instructor's dormitories and if Voot caught him...

Bid sighed. He needed to find another way to get to Zim.

"Where does he place on combat abilities?"

He needed to at least know how to handle the younger Irken. Just incase Zim decided to be...difficult.

"I-I don't know." They stuttered.

"You don't know." Bid's eyes narrowed.

They wrung their hands together again. Oh, Irk! They were upsetting him. What if he punished them?

"No one I asked seemed to really know. Zim usually avoids fighting. He was in the infirmary recently. For a long time too, I heard." They rushed out.

Bid tapped his fingers. He'd heard about some student's PAK going haywire a few months back. Had that been Zim?

How could he use this?

"...and Instructor Voot has not allowed him to participate in any fights recently as well." They added nervously.

Bid made noise. That didn't seem like Voot. The older Irken had always been an unmoving hardass. Who's entire philosophy seemed to revolve around a sink or swim mentality. Did the older Irken have a soft spot?

Oh, this could be fun!

An idea suddenly comes to him.

As it stood, Zim was out of his reach. Yet, Voot himself had given Bid an opportunity.

What was a tiny loss if he was able to gain something greater?

"Good work my sweet."

They smiled timidly.

Ah, his sweets were so cute!

...and soon he'd have the sweetest.

"Come here, I think you deserve a reward." Bid smirked.

He wasn't going to deny himself any longer.

==(WARNING OFF!)==

============================

(Planet Irk: First timeline. Capital city: Emperor's palace, Tallest chambers)

Theron hunched over a tablet on the edge of a bed. Purple eyes narrowed as they scrolled through it.

"What do you even hope to find?" Voel asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against a column.

"Something, anything! Ugh!" Theron threw the tablet onto the bed out of frustration. Before throwing himself backwards onto it too, arms stretched out. He let out a huff.

Voel walked over to pick it up.

"There is still so much I don't remember!

"I Know." Voel agreed, scrolling through the device. There was patchs he could recall, then blank spaces in between, far too many, it felt like.

He could understand Theron's frustration.

"The control Brains don't know anything either!"

"You actually asked the control Brains!?" Voel pauses his search in shock.

Was Theron insane! What if the control brains thought they were defective?

Yet, they were still here...then maybe...

"Did they say anything?"

"No!" Theron scowled. "They said they had no record of ever tampering with any of our memories."

Red eyes narrowed.

Theron made a mocking mechanical voice. "It would be highly illogical, for us to reset the rulers of Irk."

"Reset?" Voel's brow scrunched.

"Yeah. I guess..uh..previous memories could be moved to a 'storage', allowing new memories to be made. While the old ones could be kept safe and sound within the core(2)."

Voel nodded, he knew about the importance of their cores. If their organic bodies were merely transportation for a PAK, then the PAK was equally the same for their cores.

Many believed it to be the center of their software. As a PAK's hardware could be replaced, as long as the core remained intact. Others thought it was the true cardiac-spooch of the Irken, the entirety of everything they were. Their soul as some liked to say.

"It's supposed to prevent this exact kind of thing from happening. Vengeful Irken's and corruption and all that, ya know. Unless the core was destroyed, everything would always remain. Apparently it had been some sort of fail safe by the creator."

"Wait, what? Creator?" Voel shook his head in disbelief. "The PAK had a creator? Like, an Irken creator? An actual fleshy Irken? I just thought the control brains had made our PAKs."

Theron waved a hand lazily, he didn't know anything more. The control brains hadn't elaborated. Quickly moving on to a new topic. He'd been too preoccupied with his quest for memories to pay attention to it at the time.

Voel rubbed his chin in thought, other arm crossed below it, still holding the tablet. "Did they say anything else?"

"They just said it would be illegal for anyone other than them to do so." Theron frowned.

Voel frowned as well.

"But, they did say, that our memories had been tampered with....heh" The purple eyed Irken let out an un-amused laugh. "However, since we know that the perpetrator is already dead..." Theron spit out the last part.

"I see..." Voel sighed, tossing the tablet back down. "...so does that mean they knew this entire time?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Theron said softly. "They seemed just as confused as I was about our memory loss. Well, as much as a machine can sound confused." Theron's brow scrunch together.

The Brains had scanned his PAK, searching for these missing memories. A jolt of electric shock had ran through him.

It had hurt.

It had been terrifying.

It had felt...violating.

Had they really put Zim through something like this?

Those bulbous lights of the machines had seemed to glow brighter with each passing second.

One minute had passed, then another.

What were they seeing?

Suddenly he was hoisted higher in the air. A part of him had thought, that this was it! He was going to go out the same way as Zim had.

He'd messed up! He shouldn't have asked them!

"EXPLAIN."

Eventually, they had let him go. Thank the old gods for his silver tongue!

"Isn't there a way to have them just...get our memories back? Like, they still exist, they're just buried, right?"

"I asked that." Theron threw a arm over his eyes.

A minute of silence stretched between them.

"Well?" Voel asked after a moment, a note of annoyance in his tone.

Theron moved to sit up, leaning back on his elbows. "They said..." Another huff. "They said if they reprogrammed us, it might be too much for our PAK's to handle. There was a chance it could work. However, the sudden influx could also just overload the PAK. At best, drive us insane or worse, just kill us. It's happened before. It sounded graphic." Theron shivered from the brains retelling.

"Void." Voel plopped down next to the purple eyed Irken.

Theron nodded, an ever deepening frown taking over his face. "We either have to let the memories return naturally...or we could-"

Theron went silent.

"Could what?" Voel asked confused.

"A solution." Theron got up, ignoring Voel's questioning stare.

"A solution? Theron, what's the solution?" Voel watched his fellow Tallest rummage through a wardrobe. Eventually pulling out a ball of purple fabric.

Voel's head tilting to the side uin confusion. He'd seen Theron bring that back onto the massive after a trip to Judgementia, robes oddly torned. He'd still been too upset to ask about it at the time.

Theron walked back over, slowly unraveling the cloth. A small tremor in his hand as he did so.

Red eyes widened in realization.

"Theron...What in the void. Where did you get that!?" Voel jumped from the bed, attempting to snatch the PAK from the other. Theron quickly moved it out of the other's reach.

"Theron." Voel's voice was hard.

"We had spent the most time with him, if what our memories suggest is true. It might jog the rest of them. His data was removed from the collective, but the memory core remains."

"Are you insane? 40 Schmillion errors Theron! Even the control Brains had barely been able to handle it! Why would they even let you have it in the first place?" Voel questioned.

Purple refused to meet red. Theron scratched his cheek.

"They didn't, did they."

"It was just sitting there! They weren't doing anything with it. It was probably just going to be tossed into the trash anyhow."

"You stole it! Theron have you lost your mind!" Voel yelled, taking a step towards his partner who backed away.

"I-I didn't steal it, I just...borrowed it! Besides, we don't have to hook it up to us! We can hook it up to the screen." Theron pointed to a television on the far wall. "It's not like we're trying to reprogram it or anything. We're just looking. It should be fine."

Voel's antenna pressed down in aprehension. Red eyes flicked between the screen, PAK, and Theron's own nervous face. "This is a bad idea."

"If anything goes wrong, we can just disconnect it. The palace is on it's own grid. It'll be fine!" Theron nervously reassured.

A few minutes passed.

There was so much he didn't know. This could be the answer to everything, but was the risk worth taking?

"Fine." Voel finally said, letting out a breath of uneasiness. This was a REALLY bad idea.

Theron's antenna perked and quickly got to setting it up.

"No more secrets."

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

(Academy Grounds: A few days later from the confrontation in the terrace.)

Magenta eyes peaked around a corner.

It appeared the coast was clear.

He had so much on his mind lately, that newest memory kept replaying.

What did he even do with this information?

Would anyone even believe him? Even, if they did. The control brains probably wouldn't want it to be spread.

It would throw the Empire into chaos. Everything they knew would be turned upside down.

He, Zim had created the control brains! ...Well, one of them anyway.

Perhaps it had been a prototype? He wondered if it still existed somewhere.

Why had he created a control brain in the first place?

Zim recalls how weak his body had felt in that memory. Even the action of lifting his arms, had seemed far too much at times. The neverending itch in his lungs and burning of his throat. As yet another bodily cough had shaken his frame.

It had felt just like his trial all over. He had been dying. Yet, he hadn't stopped, he had kept moving forward regardless of how much it wore on him. Zim can still taste blood on his tongue.

Why had he gone to such lengths?

The quiet whirl of fans reaches him. He peaked over his shoulder at his PAK. Were they related? It couldn't be...could it?

A dark cloud suddenly overtakes him.

What had been the purpose he had given to that brain? Had he made them to control the Empire? Then why not make himself it's ruler? Had he been betrayed?

Again.

Did all the control brains know that he was their creator? Their parental-unit?

Did they know that, when they had killed him?

What had he done to them to deserve that! Was it revenge for the overload days or maybe something in a prior life? All those PAK errors. Were those the control Brains doing? Had they knowing let him suffer all those cycles?

Too many questions and not enough answers!

Maybe his silent suffering had been their retaliation or maybe, they just didn't care at all. He supposed they were nothing but machines at the end of the day.

He grips the corner of the wall tightly.

That couldn't be true though! Even his base's computer had seemed to have it's own personality. It couldn't have been just wires and circuits! And Gir! His poor, sweet, slightly insane Gir. His pseudo-smeet was far more than just nuts and bolts!

There had to be more to it...there just had to be.

A sad noise leaves him.

Should he really be surprised though? How many of inventions and creations had turned against him in the past?

Perhaps that was just his fate.

Maybe...He thinks. It would be better if he just kept this to himself. He was sure the control brains must know, but probably assumed his memories were still dormant and thus, wasn't a threat to their authority. He feels, that it would be best to keep it that way then. No need to be called crazy by his fellow Irkens or for his oldest creations, to label him defective in order to silence him.

Even if it made his cardiac-spooch hurt.

If he created the brains, then wasn't it also his fault they were forced to live in such a strict society. To be labeled a deviant was a high offense. Sometimes, even resulting in a death sentence.

Why, oh why did he create such machines!

It was a miracle he had managed to hide such a thing in the past.

Voel had been piloting a ship on another mission at the time.

Their recon team had been exploring uncharted space for potential expansion, when they had been surprised by pirates. Their small crew had ultimately won, but suffered heavily under the sudden onslaught. Their spacecraft had barely been able to hold together after entering the atmosphere. Resulting in a crash landing on some deserted, primal planet. They could only hope their distress beacon had survived somewhere.

Bruised and battered but alive. Theron and him had wound up as the only survivors of their crew. A third, Pim he thinks her name was, had survived the crash as well. However she was an Irken with low healing capabilities(3) and had succumbed to her wounds not long after. Despite Theron's desperate attempts to keep her alive.

He remembers the look of failure in purple eyes. They had both been eternally grateful for having such high regeneration abilities.

They had made a base out of the remains of their ship. Burying Pim and keeping her PAK tucked safe within it, as they waiting for rescue.

One cycle had passed, the another and another. No help was coming. They had been abandoned, left to waste away.

Alone with just the two of them. It had been an especially cold night, the planet was in the midst of its winter. They had sat as close as they dared, around a small fire. A mixture of desperation and curiosity had taken hold.

No superiors.

No control Brains.

No rules.

Who would even punish them? What consequences did they need to fear? They wouldn't be connecting to any information station anytime soon. There was no one but them. No one to label them deviants or defective.

All of this had been their silent thoughts.

To one another, it had merely been an excuse for survival. They couldn't have let one another freeze to death.

There had been nothing said, no sweet words or confessions.

Only raw, passionate urges.

The heat of the other against his own, had been enough for him.

To their surprise...and horror. A nearby ship had gotten their distress call not long after.

A promise of mutual destruction had sealed their lips, not even Voel had known.

Theron and Voel had been selected for Tallest candacy not even half a cycle later. 'Don't worry! We'll be back before you know it. Promise.' The taller Irkens had never looked at him with the same eyes after that.

He'd been abandoned. The well of shame and paranoia within him had grown even deeper. Always wondering; Would this be the day he was found out? Everytime he connected to the collective, would the control brains discover his indignity at last?

The fear he had felt on the day of the trial. Horror at his crimes being played out for everyone to see. Terror at the idea that all of Irk would witness his crime. It had been a secret he was forever grateful, he had taken to the grave.

He'd made a mistake.

Let his desperation turn him into a fool.

That was the reason he was hiding behind every corner he could. Ever since Theron had found Voel and him in the terrace.

A part of him knew he was being foolish. They hadn't been doing anything illegal! It had just been friends doing perfectly, normal, totally platonic hand holding!

It wasn't nearly as shameless as Theron and he had once done.

Yet, he hadn't talked to Theron. Too terrified of the prospect.

What if the taller Irken held this against him? Used it to blackmailed him?

No. No. He shook his head.

Theron wasn't that type of Irken.

Thoughts about his 'mission' to Urth sprung to the forefront of his mind. Tallest Purple had been vindictive or cruel to him nearly every time they interactive.

...or maybe he was.

They weren't bound by the same secretive promise anymore.

Theron wasn't his. Theron didn't know him, he wasn't sure he even knew the taller Irken anymore. If he ever did in the first place.

Who knows what this...stranger would do.

What if the purple eyed Irken let it slip?

Even if he managed to talk some sense into the taller Irken. What would happen if someone overheard them?

Rumors spread fast.

Zim had been avoiding Voel as well. If rumors did get out, it'd be easier to dispel them if they weren't seen together.

Voel would understand...he hoped.

He thumped his head against the wall. Zim tried to reason to himself. Maybe he was just being foolish for nothing!

Voel must've already talked to Theron. They were the best of friends, smeetmates! They would one day rule the Empire together, like they had done in the past.

Surely whatever tension he had seen, had been his ima-

"You're so annoying!"

"So are you!"

Zim ducked further around the corner in order to avoid the spectacle that had appeared down an adjacent corridor.

They had been like this the last few days. It had been getting progressively worse as time went on.

He had tried to ignore it. Surely it was just his mind playing tricks! Overthinking things as usual. This was just a little spat. Friends could have arguments.

Magenta eyes flinched at a crash and the shouts of encouragement from gathering bystanders.

This was his fault wasn't it? He had gotten in the way of their friendship. Theron probably hated him and was taking it out on Voel.

Irk! What should he do?

"That's enough! Break it up! Break it up!" Instructor Voot's voice boomed. "Voel! Theron! You're both on cleaning duty for the next month!"

Zim stayed rooted to his spot, clenching the edge of his tunic tightly. He chanced a peak around the corner. Catching glimpse of matching bruised faces. A grimace appeared, he ducked back before he could be seen.

Voel was a vicious fighter, yet Theron didn't hold his punches either.

Eventually, the commotion grew distant.

His squeedlyspooch twisted uncomfortably.

He didn't like seeing them fight. Not now, not then, not ever. It just wasn't right.

"Are you Zim?"

He was grateful he managed to hide his shock.

Magenta eyes turned to a meek looking Irken about his height with bright ruby eyes. How long had they been there?

Zim had memorized all the names of his classmates. He had thought they deserved that much respect from him at the very least. However, he can't recall this Irken's name. Were they from another class? What could they want with him?

His fingers twisted his tunic tighter in terror.

Was it about Voel and him? Had Theron told!

He lets go his tunic, smoothing it out before putting his hands behind him to hide his tremor.

"I am." He says with as much confidence as he can muster. Face not portraying the storm of emotions underneath.

If they brought up his supposed relationship, he would just play dumb. They couldn't prove anything! Just a bunch of hearsay!

"Hi! I'm Rig! Umm...I was wondering..."

His eyes narrowed.

Here it was!

Deny! Deny! Deny!

Rig must have seen his scepticism. The red eyed Irken immediately rushed out his request.

"I-It's just that I heard you're the best in the academy! I am not very good with tests. I was...just hoping you would be willing to teach me. But...if you don't want to...I understand." A sad sigh left Rig.

The other Irken looked pitiful. Voice growing softer with each word. It tugged at Zim's cardiac-spooch strings.

So that's what this was about. Rig just needed help...

A weight started to lift from his shoulders.

...and he had came to Zim!

He'd be lying if he said it didn't stroke his dead ego a little.

"You need a mentor?" He asked.

It was like a lightswitch. "Oh! You'll do it! That's fantastic!" Rig said excitedly. Getting a little too close for his personal comfort.

Zim was in too much of shock to properly rebuff the happy Irken.

Although he supposed it did give him a proper excuse to avoid those two now.

======================= (Planet Irk: First timeline. Capital city: Emperor's palace, Tallest chambers)

Theron ducked behind a sofa. "You're overreacting!"

"I'll show you overreacting you little blasnit! Smeet of a glazzo! Qrooza!"

Theron poked up. "Wow, that's harsh Voel, even for you. I'm hurt." He said with a nervous smile, trying to diffuse the situation. "What if the servants here you? What kind of example are you sho-Argh!" The purple tallest quickly ducked back down to avoid a laser shot.

======================= (Academy dormatries: Voel and Theron's Dorm, Theron's POV)

He poked at a particularly nasty bruise. "Stupid Voel!" Theron hissed over the sound of water. At Least it was already starting to heal.

"That idiot just won't listen to reason." He whispered to himself, shutting the sink off. Theron huffed as he stepped out of the cleansing room. Purple eyes scanned their dorm.

Voel hadn't returned yet. Probably at one of the training room, blowing off steam.

Another huff left him. They were on cleaning duty for the next month. He hated cleaning!

He didn't want to deal with this. If Voel would just listen to him for one second! "Ugh!" His hands turned to claws.

Constant fighting day in, day out. He knew Voel was stubborn, but this younger one made him want to rip his antenna out.

Why couldn't Voel just understand! Theron wanted to move forward too, but they had to be careful. One wrong move and they'd just wind up back on the same track as before. He refused to let that happen again.

This chance was worth too much to get ruined by recklessness.

They were getting closer to danger with every cycle. Graduation was so close. It wouldn't be long after that...they would meet them for the first time. Theron couldn't let any of them go through that again. He might even need to do the unthinkable...

His partner was becoming far too transparent with his feelings.

What if the control brains noticed?

What if someone else had been the ones to catch Voel and Zim that day?

If they figured it out again- No! He didn't even want to think of that.

Both of them had been so careful in the past to keep it hidden. He had thought they had been anyway. Until Theron had slipped up, letting his selfish desires take over.

At Least Zim was doing a good job at keeping his distance. Although he wasn't sure if he should be greatful or not.

It made his squeedlyspooch twist.

Theron had glimpsed the smaller Irken peeking around corners. Always being the first to rush out of whatever room they walked into. Magenta eyes once again filling with panic when they met. Whatever trust Voel had built up was now ruined for both of them.

They were right back to square one.

Zim was afraid of him, that much was obvious.

It hurt.

Voel wasn't pleased about it either. Furthering the divide between them. The red eyed Irken's resolve only seemed to grow stronger.

A small part of him was jealous. Voel could always hold his head up so high, unlike him. Theron could never say what was lay within his cardiac-spooch.

Just like he couldn't in the past.

Voel on the other hand was so unafraid. Quick to rush into whatever danger lay ahead without hesitation.

Maybe that's why Zim liked Voel more than him. But, Theron had always been selfish. Waiting until the time was right, for him to make a move.

He'd been among the cosmos once.

If only he had said something then. Would it have made a difference? What would Voel have done?

If hadn't been for them...if they could've stayed right where they were at...maybe Zim could have been...

He sighed.

It doesn't matter anymore. He has a goal, he intends to see through. Even they won't be able to stand above him.

Voel and him had been the tallest rulers in nearly 10,000 cycles. He would change the rules this time.

He could've changed the rules.

If they hadn't messed with-

Theron took a deep breath to calm himself.

His body suddenly felt heavy.

The weight of exhaustion was finally catching up to him. Constant paranoia and fighting was doing a number on him.

He hadn't been eating like normal either. It was taking a toll. A nap sounded good right about now.

He scrubbed at one eye.

Why couldn't things just go back to normal?

He just wanted to be friends with Voel again...and Zim too.

A yawn threatened to leave him.

Sure it was a bit early, but class was over and most were enjoying leisure activities right now. It would be the perfect time to enjoy the peace. Before Voel came back and they invetably got into another fight.

He flopped onto his bed without care. Hissing in pain as something poked him sharply in the side side.

Theron shifted enough to pull it out. "Oh right." He flipped the book over.

He hadn't yet returned Zim's book.

A finger ran over the lettering of the book.

He'd read it cover to back. It was pretty boring, but it interested Zim. He had thought he had known everything about the magenta eyed Irken.

Maybe he didn't know anything about Zim at all.

The differences had been jarring when he had come to. It still felt unbelievable. Anyday here, he would wake up. Back on the massive. Back before he'd been...

He rubbed at his eye from phantom pain. ---------

As a future medic, he had been able to go to the med-ward for training. Only patients were allowed to enter. All other access had been limited or outright denied. It was like it was on lock-down. Not that it was his business. He was still learning the ropes. Maybe this was just normal procedure.

There was only one thing he wanted to really know anyway.

Theron didn't know why he cared so much. Sure Zim was probably the prettiest Irken he'd ever seen, with deep magenta eyes that looked light pink when the light hit them just right and an infectious laugh and-

He leaned over an Irken trying to focus on the task at hand.

It was just the nature of Zim's injury. That's why he was worried. It was normal for a future medic to care. It's not that he was worried if Zim had di-

Don't think about it Theron. Focus!

"Now Theron, to perform a dressing, clean the wound with the Ns-3400 and gauze, apply the med-gel 9000 and secu- Yes, just like that. You're getting the hang of it already!” Mill congratulated.

"Does this mean I can leave now?" A smaller irken asked. Inspecting their new bandages on their forearm.

"Make sure to check out with Kit at the front desk."

The smaller Irken nodded as they jumped down from the examination chair and skipped away.

Theron watched them go before he turned to the head medic. "Medic Mill-"

"Just Mill is fine." Theron bit his tongue, there was no way he could call a superior by just their name!

He needed to know.

"Umm...Zim...is he okay?" Nobody had heard anything since that day.

Mill's smile twitched.

His antenna flattened. "So it's true-"

"No! No." A heavy sigh left her as a pained expression appeared. "Zim is...alive."

"He is! Then can I see him! We're..uh...classmates." He quickly added.

Mill held up her hands. "It would be best if you didn't. Zim is in a...delicate condition right now. For his recovery its best if he isn't overwhelmed."

"Delicate? His PAK, how bad was it?" Irken's that had been disconnected with their PAK for more then ten minutes would die. Zim's had not only come off, but had severely injured him as well.

"You needn't worry! The control Brains themselves have called a PAK technician from the Capital." Mill tried to comfort.

He blinked at the explanation. The control Brains were helping! "Then Zim will be fine. Do you know wh-"

"MILL! Were going to need your help here!" Gig ran into the training room. A few distant screams could be heard.

"What happened?"

"Smeets and mines." Was Gig's only explanation.

Theron followed after the two veteran medics towards the entrance of the reception room. A group of smallers awaited them. All in various states of disaster.

Kit was already dressing the wounds of some. Gig quickly joining in.

"Is there anything i can do to help?" Theron asked, standing awkwardly to the side. He grimaced as Sig, another of Mill's medics reattached an arm of one of the worst off smeets.

"I appreciate it, but we should have it handled. Go back to the training room for now dear. We'll continue in a moment." Mill replied, attention already turning to her newest patients.

It was going to be a long day.

Theron headed back into the med-ward towards the training room. When an idea hit him.

He looked back in the direction of the reception room. The sounds were distant. Mill and the others would be occupied for awhile.

It wouldn't hurt to take a peak. Just enough to calm his aching cardiac-spooch.

Finding the room had been a bit difficult. It had been all the way in the back of the ward. One last look around to make sure he was alone. He slipped into the room without a second thought.

A single patient room. It was far too dark and quiet. Only the small blinking and dull whirl of machinery filled the room. A pink glow, brightened and dull slowly behind a curtain.

He stepped carefully into the room further. Catching what sounded like breathing. A low and slow, slight raspy noise. As if they were struggling to breath. It made his antenna stand straight up.

A bed lay against the center of one wall. Wires and small tubes coming out from underneath a curtain that surrounded it.

He gulped. Why are you hesitating? Just go for it, Theron!

He'd been unprepared for what lay behind the curtain.

Wires and tubing everywhere. He could just barely make out Zim's form underneath it all. Once bright green skin was almost completely grey. Dark circles and slightly gaunt face. Zim's breath was ragged, as if he'd stop any second.

He looked like when Voel and him had sentenced him to death.

Wait, what? When had he sent-

"Ah!" He clutched his head in pain, dropping to his knees.

The influx of memories from his past life had quickly overwhelmed him.

Wide eyed and gasping for breath. He rested his forehead against the cool tile of the floor as everything eventually returned to focus.

Theron got to his feet with a blank look, walking up to Zim's bedside.

A surge of anger overtaking him briefly. He grabbed at the cord to life support.

Zim! Greatest defective of the Empire. Murder! Killer of tallest! One of his best friends. His first lo ...Stop!

what are you doing!

Theron covered his face with his hands in horror. What was he doing? What in the void was he doing!?

He stepped back from the bed, his legs starting to feel weak.

Zim, the one he'd fallen for twice. The one he had been forced to forget. Zim wasn't at fault. No, no! It had been...

Chaos vs order, loud vs quiet, willful vs docile. This wasn't even the same Zim as his past. Zim hadn't done anything wrong.

What was wrong with him? Theron felt sick with himself.

The curtain was pulled back into place. Mill's kind face appeared before him. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him from the room.

"This is what I didn't want you to see..." -------

He'd thought Zim was holding back at first. That the other had known about their shared past as well.

However, with each passing day. He wasn't so sure. They were strangers and it seemed Zim wanted to keep it that way.

Perhaps, this was just how Zim was always meant to be. It was odd to think about.

He missed Zim's energy.

Theron wanted to bring it up. A part of him had to know. To know that he wasn't the only one. That he wasn't crazy.

Most of all, that he had a chance to make amends.

What if the spell was broken though? He didn't want Zim to hurt anyone.

What if everything just went back to before? He didn't want to hurt Zim either.

The way those magenta eyes looked at him with fear.

Did Zim really hate him so much in this time? Maybe Zim really did remember their past and still held a grudge?

If he was someone else would Zim like him better?

Sometimes he didn't even feel like himself. He wasn't sure if he even knew who he was anymore.

Theron, the medical elite? The one so deeply in love.

Theron, the Almighty Tallest Purple? The one so numb to the world.

Theron, the smeet starting out in life? The one so new and wide eyed to the possibilities.

Who was even in control anymore?

It was like a never ending tug of war. Sometimes he felt a thousand different ways about something or someone. His reaction that day after the influx, still haunted him. Tallest Purple had never been known for his kindness. It sent shivers up his spine. While a different part of him felt he had been justified. How cruel of an Irken he had been turned into.

Maybe, an entirely new Theron had been born that day. A combination of all that that he had ever been. He's knows his paranoia for one had been amplified

A sigh left him. He rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes as he let himself sink further into the bedding.

Stop thinking about it, Theron! This won't solve any of your problems!

The past is the past.

The arm over his eyes drops to his side.

Purple eyes look with determination up at the ceiling as a thought comes to him.

He wanted to move forward. By the gods in all of the cosmos did he want it.

Purple eyes flicker back to the book by his side.

If Zim wasn't going to come to him. He'd go to Zim.

------------------------------- (Academy- Science classroom: Undetermined time)

Zim leaned back in his chair. Letting out a small sigh as he moved away from the microscope. He scrubbed at his eyes. Thankful, that no one else was able to see his frustration.

Instructor Piek had been all too happy to let him use the room after hours.

'I'm so glad you're thinking of being a scientist Zim! We need more bright minds like you.' Zim still blushes at the compliment.

Despite his determines not to go down this road again, that didn't mean he'd given up on finding a way to deal with his PAK. It just so happened that his best solution at the moment involved science.

There was only so much coding fixes he could do, being so limited on time.

It still wasn't nearly enough. 40 schmillion errors was not smeets play.

Although, he'd be lying if he said a part of him wasn't overjoyed to be behind a microscope again. Just a teeny tiny part though, he tried to convince himself.

Don't let yourself slip up now, Zim!

His oldest memories had shown a time before Irken's had needed a PAK.

That sickness, whatever it was, did it play a role? If he could find a way to combat it, maybe he wouldn't need to worry about fixing his PAK at all.

Sure being PAK-less would be difficult to adjust to, but he thinks he can manage.

He looked over a tablet he'd been putting his findings. Some observation and records of previous medics or scientist. Who had tried their own hands at discovering a cure. However, those records were often brief and lacked the information he wanted. Often consisting of theories more than actual research.

Perhaps the archive may hold what he was looking for. However, he hadn't had the time to go down. Between classes, coding fixes and his new prodigy. He hadn't had much time to himself.

Although he had a mighty need to go down there again! It was calling him!

A small beep from a nearby machine. A few more of his samples were ready.

Later then, he supposed.

There was still so much he had to do.

He was close, he could smell it!

----------------- (Planet Irk: First timeline. Docking station for The Massive)

Theron looked over the crew of The Massive from their private deck. He pulled at the collar of his robes, it was so uncomfortable! Who decided to make the official robes so constrictive anyway? He could barely move, let alone breath in them. If it wasn't for their hover-belts, he'd never be able to move.

He looked over to Voel, who has his arms folded behind his back. Red eyes observing the loading of The Massive for its next voyage with sharp eyes. He could see the tension in the other's jaw.

"You still mad?" He whisper asks.

"Don't talk to me."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Red eyes snap over to him. Voel's antenna folded flat in anger. "You-"

"My Tallest?" Rarl Kove interrupts from the doorway. "The Massive is ready to board at your leisure."

"Oh right! Of course, we'll be down there shortly. Thank you Rarl." Theron says quickly. They needed to maintain a united front.

Rarl's antenna perked. The adviser wasn't sure what had gotten into his Tallest, especially Tallest Purple. Who was...how should Rarl say this...not very nice. Perhaps it was treason to think, but Rarl much preferred his liege like this.

The advisor leaves the room with a small bounce in his step. A purple eye twitched. Their workers had been acting so weird lately.

"We'll talk about this later." Voel hisses as he passes his partner. ----------------- (Academy dormitories: hallway outside Zim's dorm. Weeks later, evening)

Purple eyes peaked around a corner. They narrowed at that unfamiliar Irken from another class.

They had been glued to Zim's side for weeks now. Supposedly they were taking extra lesson from Zim.

Rig, he had learned their name was.

Why did it have to be Zim? Couldn't Rig have chosen someone else. Yeah, Zim was in the top for academics. But, Theron definitely felt that there was more to it.

Rig's behavior was odd. No one save Voel and himself seemed to notice it. As soon as Zim left his dorm in the morning, there was Rig. As soon as Zim left a class, there was Rig. Even as Zim returned to his dorm in the evening, there was Rig. Just like now.

He frowned.

Where did the Irken even find the time? Were they skipping class? It was probably the reason they had such poor test scores. Should he report it?

It's not that he was jealous or anything.

They were just mentor and student. Friends most likely. It's not as if Rig had feelings for Zim, right? Ah! Who was he kidding? It was so obvious.

His frown deepened. Go away!

Rig continued talking to Zim. Asking him the most useless or oddest questions.

How did Zim do this? How did Zim do that? What kind of sweets did Zim like?

What did Zim think of instructor Bid?

huh?

DING!

The first bell signaling curfew cut Rig off.

They would have about thirty minutes until they needed to be back in their dorms.

Between classes, then punishment, arguments with Voel and Zim's own avoidance. He hadn't had a chance to talk to the smaller Irken. He was grateful his punishment was nearing an end at least.

He was glad Voel was occupied right now. He might try to interfere with Theron's plans otherwise. He needed to talk to Zim alone.

The red eyed Irken was in the self training rooms, blowing off steam again. Despite the bad blood between them right now. Voel hadn't hesitated to rant about Rig to Theron for hours. He hadn't minded. It was nice to have Voel talking to him again. Getting his opinion, even if it was just about how to get the other Irken away from Zim.

It was better than them fighting. He missed having his friend. Progress was progress. Smeet steps, he told himself.

Theron figured it would be easiest to catch Zim right before curfew would go into effect. Even if they could only talk for a few minutes.

Still, Theron didn't have much time. Skoodge would surely be back soon. He didn't feel like explaining himself to the more robust Irken. It would still be a few minutes for Skoodge to get back here. He needed to be quick. Then he'd need to rush back to his room before Voot caught him. The last thing he wanted wanted was to draw more of instructor's ire.

No more running. He tucked the book further into his side.

Once Rig is out of sight, he makes his move.

He slipped in the dorm without issue. His eyes scanned the dark of room for Zim. A light tucked into a corner draws his attention. He makes his way over to it. Various shades of pinks, purples and reds sat within a glass box. Plants? They looked like some of the ones in the book.

Where had Zim found those?

His brow scrunched.

The low sound of a sink running, finally reaches him.

Nervousness started to set in.

Maybe he should leave the book here. It was getting late. He can always talk to Zim another day.

The whoosh of the cleansing room door opens.

Zim's startled eyes meet his. He can see fear build in those magenta eyes.

Void!!

Alone in the dark of someone else's room. He probably looked like a creep!

"Wait!" He says as Zim back away from him as he moves forward.

He quickly held out the book. "I..ah...I meant to return this earlier. It's yours, isn't it?"

Zim hesitantly nodded, but did not reach out to take it. Hands gripped tightly in their owner's clothes.

A sign he knew of Zim's own stress.

His antenna flattened. Zim really did hate him.

Setting the book with slow movements onto what he thought was Zim's desk. He couldn't hide his disgust at the uncleanly state of the other one, Skoodge's without a doubt.

Magenta eyes watching him intently all the while.

"I should leave."

-----------

(Zim's pov)

He thought for a moment. "No." Zim needed to know what the other planned. "Why are you here?"

"I just thought I would return your book." Theron rubbed at the back of his neck. Eyes looking anywhere but at Zim.

Magenta eyes narrowed. His hands clenched his sleeping gown tighter. Those were signs of Theron lying.

"That's all?" Zim questioned. He straightened his back.

Be confident Zim! This had gone on long enough.

He wasn't entirely pleased Theron was in his room. Yet, maybe this was for the best.

No one would hear them here.

Skoodge was in the study hall with his friends, they usually waited until last minute to return back to the dorms.

Zim had time.

"Uh...well actually-"

"Whatever you saw in the terrace wasn't what you think!" Zim quickly explained. He didn't want a misunderstanding. Neither was he going to let himself be blackmailed.

"What? That not..."

"I know what you saw was very concerning. What with us holding hands and all...and being alone and...you..you see w-what was actually happening was..." Zim trailed off.

Oh Irk, how did he explain this! He was just digging a deeper hole for himself at this point.

"You think i'm going to report you?" Theron's face was blank, his voice low.

Zim gulped but otherwise didn't respond.

A small disbelieving laugh left the taller Irken. "You both really think of me so little."

Theron took a step forward. His back hit the wall.

Purple eyes widen before a hurt expression quickly took over the taller Irken's face.

"I don't want to hurt you." Theron whispered. Taking a few steps back.

"Why are you here then?" He asked again.

"I..." Purple eyes looked conflicted. "Voel likes you..."

Both are shocked by the statement.

"Wh- I mean...it's just." Theron tried to explain. "I like you too."

"W-What?" This was some kind of trick right? Anger starts to boil within him.

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

(Theron Pov)

What in the void was he saying!

Magenta eyes are wide as they look at him.

"I just want what you two have." He can't stop! He's sure his face must be entirely blue from blushing so hard.

Theron! You're making a fool of yourself. Stop!

"You're lying." Zim's low voice says.

"I'm not! It's true, for the longest time I ha-"

"You're lying!" Zim says louder. A look of anger taking over the smaller Irken's face.

Theron comes to the sudden realization.

He's messed up.

What did he do now?

"Zim..."

"Do you think this is a game! Is that what you're doing? Both of you...You're both in on it aren't you! You're trying to make a fool out of ZIM!" The magenta Irken had taken a more aggressive stance. Hands balled into tight fists. Eyes blazing a bright pink with fury.

"No! That not how it is!" His defense falls on deaf ears.

"You're lying! Liar!" The other's rage was too much, he had to defend himself as Zim rushed at him.

Theron knew despite the other's small stature, how much damage he could inflict. Zim was a deadly fighter.

Yet, Theron held the smaller Irken's sharp claws away from his face with little effort as they struggled.

The shorter Irken's wrists felt so small. Had Zim always been this frail? Or maybe his training was actually paying off! He thinks happily on that last bit.

His smile is misinterpreted by the smaller Irken. Magenta eyes flashing.

"I won't let you use me again!"

He grunted at a harsh kick to his shin, letting go of the other as he faltered from it. Before he could regain his balance, Zim had tackled him.

Thankfully his back had found the softness of a bed.

They wrestled further on it. Zim wouldn't listen to reason. Only calling Theron a liar and a host of other things that made him blush from the root of his antenna.

Finally he was able to flipped them for the last time, managing to pin the other down. At least Zim hadn't started using his PAK, he's not sure he'd survive that.

Zim continued to buckle beneath him.

"Let me go!"

"Just, just let me explain!" He said desperately. A bead of sweat running down his face.

Why won't anyone just listen to him!

Magenta eyes narrowed.

"Ugh!" He grunted as the other's only loose leg, kneed him in the side. Luckily the odd angle didn't loosen his grip, but void!

Zim may have not been as strong as he remembered, but the other wasn't as frail as he looked either.

That still hurt!

"By the gods, Zim! Would you just listen to me for one second!" He throws his other leg over Zim's, pinning all of the smaller Irken.

Eventually Zim stopped struggling. Sounds of both their heavy breathing filled the room.

"L-Let me go." Magenta eyes were wet.

Purple eyes suddenly widened as they realized their position.

Theron immediately released the other's hands, moving off of the smaller Irken to give him some space.

Zim moved up to the head of the bed, curling into himself. Magenta eyes never moving from his form. Zim rubbed at his wrists.

Void, didn't that make him feel like a blisnit

"I'm sorry." Was the quiet apology. Zim twitched.

Void! He really...really messed up now.

"I'm not lying." Zim opened his mouth, most likely to call him a foul name yet again. "I'm not, really!"

Was it such a hard thing for Zim to believe? Yes, their society looked down on relationships. Yes, it was risky, but Theron was willing to take that chance. Wanted to take the chance, that he had denied himself, so long ago. Would things have turned out differently?

Afterall, Zim and him had once...

Consequences to the void! Soon he'd be the one in charge, he could make the rules!

If he could just take out that Irken first...

Yet, the smaller Irken seemed to respond to Voel's advances well. It was just Theron then, that Zim just didn't like. That seemed to be the ever growing case. They didn't know each other here. Zim wasn't his. They were strangers. He'd thought they had something in the past. Maybe the only reason why, was because Zim had been broken.

That was the only way he'd ever give Theron a chance.

The thought makes his cardiac-spooch clench painfully.

A deep breath left the magenta eyed Irken. Drawing Theron's attention back to the other.

"How do I know what you're saying is true? How do i know you're not just trying to get me labeled a deviant, or even a defective!" Zim hissed.

"You're not defective! I wouldn't do anything to get you sentenced a-!"

Theron quickly bit his tongue.

Wide magenta eyes met his. "Ther-"

The whoosh of a door. Both heads snapped to it.

"Uhhh?" Skoodge said as he entered the room. They could hear the ding of the curfew bell behind him.

Theron wasted no time in tactifully retreating.

Notes:

Information dock/charging station: The control Brains do not actually know what happens 24/7 for every Irken.

-Thus they use these pods, under the guise of software updates/charging station for PAKs to tell them of any important information. They mostly rely on Irken's themselves to keep one another in line.

Core/Memory Core: The heart/soul of an Irken, buried deep within a PAK. No one is entirely sure what it is, beyond that it is essential for Irken's to live and PAKs to function.

-Paks after death are often collected and reset/reprogrammed for the next iteration. Destroying the core is considered the ultimate death sentence. -Tampering with another's core is the highest offense, resulting in death of both biological Irken and their core and complete wipe of their legacy from the collective. -Damage to the core may result in insanity.

Healing/regeneration: An Irken's ability to bounce back from dire wounds varies between each Irken.

-(Uncommon/Rare)

They heal incredibly fast from bruises and minor wounds. Sometimes within a day. Some are capable of attaching or regrowing limbs and organs (Not including brain or heart). So long as it wasn't a lethal kill or extreme damage. They may regain complete control of these limbs/organs without any scaring. However they may sometimes suffer nerve damage if the wound was extensive enough. Removing their Pak, or destroying their heart or brain is usually the best way to take them out. They can often be found in combatant roles to make the best use of their abilities.

-(Bulk of the species) Other Irken may likewise do all of the above, to various lesser extents. They are a bit more susceptible to damage. The same wound may kill them, but the above may walk away from it. For bruises or minor wounds, it may take only a few (1-3) day(s) to heal. They scar, but typically only when they receive extensive damage. It is rare for them to lose a limb completely, but not entirely unheard of.

-(Uncommon/Rare) The ones with the least amount of this ability, are most similar to humans. For bruises and minor wounds it can take anywhere between days to weeks to heal. If they lose a limb or organ, that's about it. They scar way easier than the rest of their species. They are typically delegated to non-combatant roles due to this fragility.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER:  https://valdarian.tumblr.com/post/643864749327745024/invader-zim-infinite-ch7

NEXT CHAPTER:

[kaesaaurelia]

a conscientious objector

For @whumptober2021 day 4: Trust Fall (specifically "Do you trust me?" and "taken hostage") Continues on from day two, wherein our protagonist, having narrowly escaped from an exploding spaceship, and on the verge of running out of air in her escape pod, was permitted entrance to a strange ship.

CW for medical trauma; more specific, mildly spoilery detail in my tags. (The trauma is very science fictional and over-the-top as described, but the aspect of it that I find most frightening can happen to people irl, so, better safe than sorry.)

The ship was dark, and eerily quiet. Was it a derelict? Had she just been speaking to an AI the whole time? There was no gravity, but the ship didn't seem to be built for gravity, which made her anxious; she did not want to start losing her strength. Then, a lot of her musculoskeletal system had been replaced, so she wasn't really sure if that would happen. But it didn't really matter if it did; she was stuck here for a while, at least until she could convince the ship, or the person in charge, to take her back to civilization.

She was tempted to shout "Hello?" into the darkness, but also, it wasn't like she'd never seen a horror movie and it seemed like a good way to trigger a jump scare. She could see, of course; she had had her eyes replaced long ago, before she'd been deployed, but it still felt spooky.

Then she climbed around a corner and came face to face with a long maw full of horrible teeth. She kicked backwards and away, and she had the vivid, horrible sense memory of her nanites practically shouting awake! awake! awake! and coming back to consciousness unable to move, the stench of rubbing alcohol in her nose.

Something made a horrible series of cackles and clicks, and her heart was going to pound out of her chest, because no, she had gotten away from them, how could they have found her again here? But then the lights came on and the cackling glitched into a voice. "There you are! You should have said something! Haven't cleaned up in a while, haha, sorry about the mess. Are you all right?"

The toothy maw was nowhere to be seen in the slightly red-tinged light, although there was some floating junk -- used meal packets, maybe? "Yeah, no, I'm good," she said, looking around. Little suction instruments came out of the walls and cleared up the junk while she watched. She wondered if any good could possibly come of asking whether she'd seen anything real.

Excuse me, does this ship belong to the -- oh, I'm going to mispronounce the name -- it's just that these aliens kidnapped me and took half my body apart a few years ago just for fun and I think maybe they put my brain back the wrong way, so could you confirm that you're not them? Or, Sorry, rude question, but are you the AI of a derelict vessel or a real person, and if you're an AI would you mind telling me about what happened so I know you're not going to go crazy and kill me? It wasn't like she had a better option. And any no, you were hallucinating answer wouldn't help. Either her host (?) was lying and she was trapped here with it, or they were telling the truth and she was just fucking hallucinating. Which, well, it wasn't like she hadn't had enough nightmares about The Incident.

"So, uh, where are you?" she asked, making a show of looking around the corridor. Maybe then she would get an answer to her AI or not question.

"Haven't you ever heard of a PA system?" the voice said. The words were sarcastic, but the voice was strangely neutral, so it was probably artificial, even if the personality behind the words was not.

"Oh, right, of course," she said, trying to make it sound as if it was a normal thing, to forget about audio projection technology that had been around since the ancients. "Um, do you -- are you --"

"What happened to the person who told me to choke on a magnet? That person seemed way more fun than you," the voice interrupted.

"I was severely oxygen deprived, I'm sorry," she said, quickly.

"So you're saying I should lower the percentage of O2 in the shipboard atmosphere to get you to say what you really mean?" the voice suggested.

"No!" said Victoria. There was a long silence, and then she heard it: an ominous hissing noise. "Okay look I just want to know, uh, uh, are you, do you -- are you like some kind of crazy murderous AI that's lured me here to kill me, because if you wanna do that I think we can just skip to that part, I made peace with dying earlier today and it's not ideal but if it's inevitable I'm good with getting it over with."

The hissing stopped. "Pretty sure dying is inevitable generally," said the voice.

"I meant, you know, in violent, terrifying circumstances," she snapped.

"You know that hissing was just a recording, right? I'm just fucking with you. The ship's not a fucking balloon. You know that, right?"

There was an awkward silence; she had not considered that.

"Anyway," the voice continued, "I did not bring you aboard just to kill you. That seems like a waste of everyone's time, since you were going to die perfectly well outside. I was iffy about bringing you in, but here you are. Are we good?"

"Why aren't you using your real voice?" She wanted to kick herself for asking, but maybe the voice would appreciate her honesty.

After another brief pause, the voice said, "I don't have a real voice. Does this one bother you?"

So it was an AI after all. Which seemed weird, because most of the ones she'd met would never have fucked around with her in the way this one had. (When an AI fucked around with you, it was usually in ways you didn't really notice until you'd been in the tech support queue for days dealing with what had initially seemed to be an unremarkable glitch.) "No, it's -- it's nice."

"What was wrong with it? I don't have an extensive library of human voice... stuff," said the voice. "Not in this language, anyway."

Not an AI made by humans, then. "It's a little unexpressive?" she said.

"All your languages are unexpressive," it said. "Well. That's not true. I do like some of the swears."

That was also weird for an AI. Well, it was weird for an Inner Solar AI, anyway; all the ones she'd worked with in the course of her job regularly had obscenities expunged from their dictionaries. They either made do without, or worked out increasingly baroque methods of relearning them immediately. Maybe it was different elsewhere, though. Instead of admitting to her ignorance, she said, "I had a buddy who could swear in about two hundred languages. Just the swears, though, nothing else." Something else was still niggling at her, though. "Why didn't you let me on at first?" she asked.

"Look, I have not in general had good experiences with your military," said the ship. "I'll keep you alive, but if you try to commandeer me or bring me back to your territory, that is absolutely not happening. I can take you to the nearest neutral or human territory that is not Inner Sol controlled, but --"

"No, that's fine!" she said, quick to avoid looking the gift horse in the mouth. The horse had no mouth at all; she was going to ignore that mouth. And all those teeth. Except. "Um, what, uh. What happened to the crew?"

"Let me amend my earlier statement: I have not in general had good experiences with anybody's military. They have also not had good experiences with me." The ship paused, presumably for effect. "Call me a conscientious objector."

"What's that?" Victoria asked. She was already regretting this gift horse mouth-looking experience. This was a terrible horse. But her face was already near the horse's mouth, so if it was going to bite she might as well find out now how much of her nose it was going to eat, or whatever horses did. (Victoria was not entirely clear on why, idiomatically, one wasn't supposed to be looking at horse mouths; she had always been a little afraid to look it up, because what if there were pictures?)

"You really don't know? Hang on, hang on, gonna implement some uh, new linguistic data. You really don't know?" The first statement had sounded mildly curious; the second, abjectly horrified. "I mean -- the phrase is from your history, I didn't -- we call it something else, but -- seriously, you don't --"

"Sorry I didn't study a lot of history, I guess?" she said, feeling a little stung. It wasn't like she was stupid, she'd just had more important things to learn -- math and physics, mostly. Also, since she hadn't gone to school at an Inner Sol college, it was a bitch getting their approval to sign up for any classes that weren't directly applicable to what they knew they wanted her doing, especially history and literature. She was still kind of smug about having snuck in some art classes, even though she hadn't been very good at anything she'd tried. "I'm not stupid, though."

"Oh, no, sweetheart, I don't think you're stupid," said the ship, almost pityingly. "You're just brainwashed as fuck. Come on, let's get you fed and rested."

[exsqueeze-me]

Bleeding Heart (ch. 4)

(This chapter is longer than usual, mostly to make up for my lack of writing recently! The schedule for updates on this fic are just gonna be random from here on out cause I've been procrastinating on coming up with ideas for this fic lol. I hope you all enjoy!)

It had been a few weeks since you had found the three, and since then you somehow convinced Bardock to take occasional adventures to hunt. You had also managed to get the boy, who's name you soon learned to be Raditz, to help you out in the kitchen every now and then. The baby, or Kakarot, had warmed up to you, if only slightly. After realizing he would get in trouble with Bardock for quite literally biting the hand that feeds, he began to try to cause as much trouble as a strange, alien child could. He always somehow managed to wreck your kitchen and living room when he was left unattended, which was surprisingly easier to deal with than getting bit every time you neared the baby.

Raditz took a few days, but he warned up to you pretty quickly, especially in comparison to Bardock and Kakarot. It was clear from what you've seen in the past few weeks that he didnt have a very good relationship with his father, so any praise for a job well done in the kitchen and the occasional extra dessert when he was having a bad day went a long way. That's not to say that everything was hunky dory all the time, Raditz would still get defensive very easily with you. There had been several times where he had growled and bared his teeth because you moved just a little too fast for his liking.

Bardock was a different story. While he had accepted the fact that you weren't a threat nor were you trying to be, he still seemed to dislike your presence. Usually, it was just you and Raditz in the house, as Bardock would usually go out to train and you would call on your old master, Gohan to babysit Kakarot(which convincing Bardock to let that happen was a whole new argument. Although, he softened up to the idea when he saw how well Gohan handled his son despite Gohan's old age), but when Bardock was home, it was either awkward silence or constant snide remarks about how weak and pitiful you were. Raditz often got similar snide remarks, so that might have also been why the boy warmed up to you so easily. Despite being an all around ass, Bardock was extremely helpful. While it took a minute to explain human currency and why you couldnt afforded to constantly feed them, he began to hunt for meat and such every day and even dragged Raditz out with him to gut it and skin it all for you. Granted, you did have to get onto them a few times for leaving picked carcasses too close to the house or nitpick them what to keep and what not to keep, even if Bardock bitched at you for wasting the leftovers. If there was ever something that you couldn't open yourself, Bardock would(with complaints and insults) open it for you with ease. He surprisingly wasnt very content with sitting around and letting you do everything, so he occasionally would stalk you around the house, waiting for you to ask him to help with something. His helpfulness made it easier to deal with the fact that he seemingly couldnt stand you.

Today was one of those days where Bardock took Kakarot to try to 'train him'. You knew Bardock was a fighter through and through, but training a four year old seemed a bit much. When you tried to ask about it, he only ever told you that it's just how his race is, so you eventually let it slide. Neither of them ever came back hurt, so you just accepted it.

Looking at the clock, you decided now would be a good time to start dinner. Calling Raditz from his room to help grab the meat from the cooler(that you had to buy in the largest available size specifically for the copious amounts of meat that Bardock brought back) while you began to cut up veggies. Raditz always seemed pretty happy to help cook and you often wondered if he used to help his mother cook as well. Raditz dropped a few big slabs of meat on the counter before looking up at you expectantly.

"Anything else you need me to do?" Raditz asked. He seemed to be having a pretty good day today.

You thought about it for a moment. If these people really wanted to hurt you, they would have done so by now.

"Can I trust you with a knife?" You asked him.

He seemed to erupt with glee at the question. His tail swished back and forth behind him as a smile broke out on his face and he almost seemed to bounce in place.

You let out a sigh but you couldnt help but smile as well. Raditz had to be the most bipolar fourteen year old you'd ever met, but he was an overall good kid.. usually. He had his moments where he did everything in his power to get on everyone's nerves.

"Alright, but be careful, okay?" You handed him the meat cleaver.

As soon as the handle of the knife was in his hands, a switch seemed to have flipped. The smile dissapeared from his face and he stared down at the knife sadly.

"Raditz?" You carefully called his name out. It wasnt unusual for him to flip flop emotions, but he was rarely sad.

"My mom used to use one of these.." Raditz's voice was soft , much unlike his usual loud manner of speaking. His tail curled a bit and he shifted on his feet.

You both stood in silence for a moment before he shook his head and began to cut the meat into thick,even slices. You spared him one last, lingering look before continuing to cut veggies. You didnt know what to say, or if there was anything you could say.

The sun was meeting the horizon when Bardock returned with Kakarot. Although he was clearly curious, Bardock didnt question the strangely solemn feel in the house. He was used to hearing you go on about everything that happened, occasionally asking him about how his day went, even if he never responded. He was used to Raditz goofing around with Kakarot, trying to teach the kid all sorts of dumb things that would surely get on Bardock's nerves. Today, there was none of that. Rather than question it, Bardock decided it would be best to let this slide.

You wanted to ask Bardock what happened to Raditz and Kakarot's mother, but it wasnt your place to ask such questions. You doubted he would answer anyway. You decided to try and ask Bardock about it in a roundabout way after Raditz and Kakarot were asleep. You had been curious about their origins anyway.

A few hours after dinner and Raditz and Kakarot were asleep, you sat yourself down on the couch next to Bardock, where he was watching whatever was on the TV.

"What do you want?" He almost sneered.

"I've been curious. Where exactly are you from? You're clearly not from Earth so.."

"Planet Vegeta." He said simply. You had hoped you wouldn't have to ask every little question, but you also didnt really expect him to tell you more than what was asked.

"What was it like there?" You looked over at him. Maybe now wasnt an opportune time to take in his features, but you couldn't help but glance over him. It wasnt often you met someone as good looking as him.

"Why the hell do you want to know?" He finally turned to face you, his lips curling up slightly in a snarl.

"I already said! I'm just curious. You've been staying here for a while and I barely know anything about you three." You yelped and put your hands up in surrender. It was technically the truth. You didnt know much about them at all. You only really knew their names and little things you'd picked up on from the conversations they would have at dinner.

He glared at you for a few moments before huffing and turning back to the TV.

"How do I watch something different on this damn thing?" He gestured to the TV, completely ignoring your previous question.

You glanced at the TV and back at him. Maybe it was better to wait until another day to ask more. This was a good opportunity to try to make nice with Bardock. He had never outright asked you something like this before.

"You've.. never used a TV before?" It was a bit odd to think about. From how their little space pods looked, they were light years ahead of you.

"Low class warriors like me didnt have much use for this shit." He almost sounded like he wanted to complain more, but stuck with grumbling and thumping his tail against the couch.

You just gave him a odd look before reaching over him to grab the remote. You expected him to growl at you for leaning over him, but he was strangely docile right now.

"You change the channels with this button. If you wanna turn it off, then you press the red button up here." You explained the more important features before handing the remote to him.

His tail flicked curiously as he pressed down on the channel button. It was kind of amusing to see him try and effectively figure out how to work the TV. He sat there flipping through channels for a good few minutes before setting down the remote and turning to you.

"While you're.. here." He hesitated for a moment before getting up and walking to the kitchen. "How does this thing work?"

You couldnt help but let out a little laugh when he pointed to the toaster. You had a feeling you would be up all night explaining how things worked to him, but this was much better than having him glare at you. Maybe he actually was starting to warm up to you a bit.

[mortallyclearwonderland]

Star Wars Alien Species - Amani

Maridun was the grassy and forested homeworld of the Amanin species. Maridun went unnoticed for many millennia, and so was considered a haven by those who knew of of its existence.

The Galactic Republic made contact with Maridun long before the rise of the Galactic Empire, though it was under the Empire that colonies were first officially established on the world. Before that, however, in 22 BBY, a colony of Lurmen attempted to establish themselves on Maridun. They were met with hostility from the Amanin, who attacked their ship and ruined its engines. The Amanin seemed to both hate and venerate the vessel, and the Lurmen leader, Tee Watt Kaa, decided to give it to them, by ejecting an escape pod containing all his people.

Around 10 BBY, the Empire began mining operations on Maridun. The Imperials, corporate slave traders, and criminal interests began taking Amani slaves offworld. During the Galactic Civil War, Maridun was occupied by Galactic Empire forces. When Imperial forces commanded by General Ziering unwittingly crossed a border to sacred Amani battlegrounds, the local Amani tribe declared them to be participants in a takital, a conflict that is known as the Battle of Maridun. A young officer called Lieutenant Janek Sunber distinguished himself during the conflict and eventually brokered an accord with the tribal lorekeeper.

In the deal, all captives taken from other tribes during takitals would be given to the Empire as slaves, and in return, Imperial forces would keep off the tribal lands. Similar agreements were subsequently struck with other tribal leaders, and as a result many Amani slaves were forced to work in the mines on Maridun or scattered throughout the galaxy as laborers for the Imperial machine.

On Maridun, Amanin lived in tribal groups led by lorekeepers. Their natural habitat was jungles and forests, where they lived primarily by hunting; these small forest were separated by open savanna land the Amanin called gruntak. When a forest was too crowded, Amanin would roll out onto the plains for another stand of trees, battling any other Amani tribes who may already have been living there in a ritualistic battle called a takital.

Amanin were a sentient planarian species. They were tall with wrinkled deep yellow skin at the front and a dark green rear hood that ran from the neck to their feet and tail. Their skin coloration helped them blend in with their forest and grassland environment as well as being a signal of the skin's poisonous nature. It secreted a poisonous slime that served to keep the skin moist as well as serving to deter predators on their homeworld. The only creature from Maridun that was not discouraged by the slime was the Charnoq, which was consequently the only predator that the Amanin feared. Due to the susceptibility of their skin to drying, the Amanin preferred to build their shelters in humid environments such as rain forests.

They had small red eyes that were adapted to see well in Maridun's dim light and a small mouth that widened to engulf raw game and contained numerous sharp teeth and a long tongue. Like other worm species, Amanin expelled their biological wastes through their mouth (although when off world they tended to do this in private after they learned how it disturbed other species). Amanin also had a small nose that provided them with a keen sense of smell, such that they were said to be able to detect strangers from ten kilometers away.

Their arms and fingers were long and thin, while their legs were comparatively short and thick with large feet. Males and females were virtually indistinguishable by other species. Although they appeared ungainly when walking, their large hands and feet were ideally suited for an arboreal lifestyle on their homeworld where they made their homes in the high treetops.

While their walking speed was painfully slow, the Amanin's flexible bodies allowed them to curl themselves into a ball and roll at speeds of up to 50 kilometers per hour across flat terrain. n this form they could not perceive the world around them but were able to use the technique to hurtle past a target and uncoil to deliver an effective attack.

Amanin had small vital organs spread throughout their body and employed a redundant organ systems that included multiple versions of major organs such as the heart, liver, and lungs. Their brain consisted of multiple nerve clusters spread throughout their body. These characteristics meant that an Amani could withstand devastating injuries and still survive—and, in theory, if one member was bisected, two identical Amanin would reform.

A typical Amanin stands at 2.5 meters or 8.2 feet tall and weighs 90 kilograms or 198 pounds.

Amani age at the following stages:

1 - 11 Child

12 - 16 Young Adult

17 - 49 Adult

50 - 76 Middle Age

77 - 89 Old

Examples of Names: Aja, Brenjandor, Jorodus, Jott, Ojat Wan, Tonjon, Trijit, Unjor.

Languages: Amanese was the language used by the Amanin species. Amanin have no written language of their own, relying instead on a tradition of oral history carried on by each tribe's loremaster.

[cc-pdf]

Can I Call You Babe?

Kaminari x reader drabble

Word count: 660

Warnings: none

"COME ON!! COME ON!!!!" Denki yelled at the television. You two were playing Mario Kart, like any other day. Most days after school you would hang out at his dorm and play some video games. Your friendship had rapidly grown since meeting at Yuuei, your personalities were so different, yet you two were like two peas in a pod.

Although, little did he know, ever since you first saw him you knew you had feelings towards him. He was that kind of boy you love, goofy and oblivious, but yet a flirt. The kind of boy most girls seem to find annoying. Though you thought those kinds were nothing but perfect in every way, shape, or form.

"ALMOST THERE!!!!" Denki exclaimed, trying to pass you before the finish line.

"I WON!!!!!!" You yelled, claiming another victory.

"AGAINNNN??? Ugh, You always win!" Denki said with a pout, slouching back into the couch.

"I'll be right back, I'm gonna go get us some snacks from the vending machine real quick." Denki said getting up from the couch.

"No, no I don't want you to waste your money I'll go get some." You said pushing him out of the way.

"No, Y/n, it's fine." He said, pushing you back.

"Ugh, just let me go get them." You said while trying to get around him.

"Y/n! It's fine, we're friends, let me just go get them!!!!" He said while opening the door and leaving.

You finally gave up on trying to argue with him. That word friends shattered your heart. You wanted to be more than friends, for sure, but you just couldn't find when to tell him, let alone how. You sank back into the couch, scrolling through instagram while waiting for him. A lump sat in your stomach.

"I'm back." Denki said with a handful of snacks, bursting through the door. You walked over to help him set them down.

"Okay, now it's time to beat you once and for all." He said throwing you a bag of chips.

"Let's see..." You said grabbing the controller.

"Okay, how about this, if I lose I have to buy all the snacks from now on, and if I win... You have to be my girlfriend for a week." Denki said while popping a chip into his mouth.

"W- w- w- wait... Your what?!" You practically jumped out of your seat at what you had heard.

"You heard me." He said while pressing start.

You knew you had to let him win, but not make it obvious, which would be hard.

A couple minutes into the race Denki yelled, "I win!!!!"

"But, it's not even over yet?!" you said still focusing on a game.

"According to me it is!!" He said, a smile growing onto his face. You sighed, you knew what he was doing, I mean of course you were a little bit too jolly inside, but you tried to mask your emotions. You couldn't let him know you liked him.

"Soooooo, does this mean I can call you babe now???" He said leaning in.

"Fine!" You said, throwing a pillow at him while trying to hide your massive rosy blush.

"Don't even try to hide your emotions, I know you like me!" He said while poking your nose.

"W- WHAT? You knew!???!!!" You said in shock, tensing up.

"I mean it was kinda obvious... Anyways..." He leaned in for a kiss. Stopping mid way, as he thought of something. A look of confusion spread onto your face.

"Wait! You can't be my girl friend if you don't have one of my hoodies." He said while jumping to his closet.

"Here, this is one of my favorites." He said while throwing it to you. You pulled it over your head.

"You look so cute." He said while pecking your lips, sitting you on his lap and handing you a controller.

okay now that was really cute! i hope u guys liked it,

[tsarisfanfiction]

Long Way From Home: Chapter 4

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: Scott, Tracy Family

Time to start really playing in one of my favourite things about writing this fic: the differences!  I’m far too interested in things like this, and for the sake of the story (aka torturing Scott) I am emphasising and exaggerating as many differences as I can between the two canons, whether they be in relationships, technology or society, because quite frankly I love this sandbox.  As my sister told me when I gushed about this fic to her, my inner scientist and academic has taken to this with glee a la “compare and contrast the differences in [xyz] between TOS and TAG”.  There will be a lot of this to come.

<<<Chapter 3

“What is that projecting onto?”  Scott jumped, looking up at the cliff above him.  Other-Scott was perched there, regarding his comm unit curiously.  “Brains was right; your technology really is nothing like ours.”

“Not that it’s doing me any good here,” Scott groused, swiping through the symbol to extinguish it.  “Stupid thing can’t even connect to your Thunderbird Five.”

“You want to talk to John?” Other-Scott sounded surprised, but dropped off the ledge to join him in the hollow.

“My John,” Scott corrected, letting his arm drop to his side. “But I thought my gear would at least link into your network.”

“Network?” Other-Scott asked.  “We have a network of agents that work for us, but what do you mean about your gear linking into that?”

Scott gaped at him.

“Not that sort of network,” he said.  “The communications one.”  Other-Scott still looked blank, and Scott facepalmed.  “You don’t have one.  Of course, different technology.  Really different technology.”

Other-Scott frowned at him thoughtfully, before unbuckling his watch and offering it.  It was Scott’s turn to look blank.

“It won’t reach another universe,” Other-Scott said, apologetically.  “But if you need to talk to our Thunderbird Five, this will work.”  Scott took it carefully, turning it over in his hands. It looked like a normal, antique watch, but having seen Other-Brains’ watch transform into a video link, Scott knew there had to be more to it than that.

“How does it work?” he asked after a moment, eyeing the various buttons on the side.  Other-Scott held out his hand for it back and Scott obliged.

“It’s set to Thunderbird Five’s frequency,” he started, “but it can be changed to any other communicator, Thunderbird, Pod vehicle, Mobile Control or Base by adjusting the frequency with this dial.”  He twisted the one on the furthest left, and the clock face vanished, to be replaced with a string of numbers.  A burst of static erupted from it.  “Or you can tune into a radio station, but Dad doesn’t like us doing that.”  He turned the knob back to where it was, and the numbers flashed in time with a dial tone. A quick press of the furthest right knob and it stopped, restoring the watch face.  “That starts and stops transmission,” he explained. “The middle dial controls the time; after all, it is also a functioning watch.”  He handed it back and Scott looked it over again, lightly tapping the three knobs thoughtfully.  “You can borrow it if you want, but it does have a location transmitter installed, which Dad can access whenever he wants.”

Scott was grateful for the warning.  He had no intention of dealing with Not-Dad again any time soon, well aware that it would be explosive.  Still, a communicator, even if it couldn’t connect to where he really wanted it to, was an offering he couldn’t bring himself to decline.

A light on the face started to flash lilac, and Other-Scott winced.

“Whoops,” he muttered, taking the watch back out of Scott’s hand.  “John must have noticed that I contacted Thunderbird Five,” he explained.  “Lilac means John,” he continued.  “Yellow is Virgil, white is Alan, orange is Gordon, brown is Brains and gold is Dad.”

Scott sighed.  “You couldn’t at least use the same colours?” he muttered.  Other-Scott shot him a questioning look even as he answered his brother’s call.

“Hi, Scott,” the blond man greeted.  “You called?”

“Just showing Scott our communicators,” Other-Scott explained. “His doesn’t work here; the technology must be too different.”

“It looked it, from what Brains showed me,” Other-John agreed. “Is he still with you?”

“I’m here,” Scott said, cutting off whatever Other-Scott was about to say.  He leaned in. “Any sign of them?”

“Oh, hi there,” Other-John said.  “No, none of my new parameters have caught anything.  I’ll keep an ear out, but it’s seeming more and more likely that you’re the only one to have fallen through.”  Some of the tension seemed out of Scott’s shoulders.

“I hope so,” he agreed, settling back in the hollow again. “What can you tell me about this multiverse theory?”  Other-Scott passed the watch back to him.

“I’ll go keep the other fellas away,” he interjected before Other-John could start talking.  “Talk to you later, John.”

“Bye, Scott,” Other-John acknowledged, before turning his attention back to Scott as Other-Scott slipped away.  “Well, Scott, the easiest way to describe it is to imagine a big glass box full of water.  Inside the box of water, there are some objects floating around.  Most of the time they don’t touch, but occasionally you get a collision between two of them.  What actually happens during those collisions is unknown; until you appeared, there’s been no proof to support the theory at all.  Not,” he added hurriedly, “that Brains or I have any intention of revealing your existence.  We’d rather see you get home than be reduced to a lab rat.”

“I appreciate that,” Scott said dryly.  “Except I’m going to have to play the part of one for you and your Brains anyway.”

“Well, that’s true,” Other-John admitted.  “The chances of an identical collision reversing the effects naturally is astronomically slim, so getting you home will require us to somehow force a similar situation.  However, we’ll be sure to remain humane and focused on returning you home before any other research.”

Scott chuckled.  “If your Brains is anything like mine, he’ll be doing it simultaneously. As long as it gets me home, I don’t care.”

Other-John let slip a small smile of his own before frowning. “You realise that this is an entirely new division of research.  It very well might be years.”  Scott was trying not to think about that too hard.

“In that case, what are we waiting for?” he asked, clambering to his feet to find Other-Brains.

“Brains has already started,” Other-John informed him.  “He’s gathering what data he can find from where you were found in Thunderbird One’s hangar, and the anomaly in your DNA from the sample he already took.  I suspect you don’t want to hear this, but interrupting him will only slow him down. He’ll find you when he needs you.”

Their voices were different, but Scott could easily imagine John – his John – saying much the same thing.

“You really are like him,” he said, sitting back down. Privately he was relieved he didn’t need to go back to the villa; after his outburst in Thunderbird One’s hangar, he was determined to avoid the family for as long as possible.

“Like who?” Other-John asked, even though the fact that he knew exactly who Scott was talking about was written all over his face. Scott told him as much.

“You know,” he accused.

“I’m as much like him as you are like Scott,” Other-John pointed out.  “As the two of you are twins in personality just as much as appearance, barring the effects from different life events, it follows that the same would be true for myself and your John.”

Different life events.  It was the closest either Other-Scott or Other-John had come to acknowledging his outburst.

“You haven’t asked about it,” he observed.  Other-John shrugged.

“Would you tell me if I did?”

“No,” was Scott’s immediate reaction, although there was a part of him that wondered if he would, if the right questions were asked.  No, better not to go there.  He’d ripped the wound far enough open already; there was no need to worsen it further.

“I do try not to waste my breath,” Other-John responded. “I meant it when I said you’re just like my Scott.”

Scott thought back to the hangar, and Other-Scott’s reaction to Not-Dad’s anger.

“Am I?” he asked.  He couldn’t imagine ever being contrite like that.

“You attacked each other because you thought the other was a threat to your brothers,” Other-John pointed out.  “Whatever you’ve both been through, your priorities are the same. Or are you going to tell me I’m wrong?” Scott met his eyes steadily.

“You know the answer to that.”

“Sometimes it’s nice to hear someone admit I’m right,” Other-John shrugged with a grin, before he turned away suddenly.  “International Rescue here.  What’s the problem?”

He didn’t cut the connection, and Scott didn’t either, listening to a garbled panic in the background, which Other-John responded to with calm, measured words for a few moments before turning back to Scott. Before Scott could ask, instincts screaming for him to get to Thunderbird One and launch, the blond man pressed a finger to his lips.

“There’s a distress call from a power plant, Father,” he said after a moment, finger back down out of sight.  He must have connected to the villa to relay the information, without breaking Scott’s own line.  “Temperature is rising fast and the blast doors have slammed shut, trapping two workers inside.  Local services won’t be able to get them out in time.”

Scott couldn’t hear whatever Not-Dad had to say in return. Whether that was intentional on Other-John’s part or a happy accident he wasn’t quite sure – if it was his John he’d know it was intentional, but he didn’t know what this universe’s technology was capable of, although he supposed if anyone could bring the most out of it, it would be John’s counterpart – but he was glad.  He couldn’t quite reconcile the man against his memories of his own father, and it was bringing up too many unwelcome thoughts that he didn’t care for.

“Thunderbird One’s about to launch,” Other-John said after a period of silence.  Scott peered around the rock to take a better look at the villa below, and was unsurprised to see the swimming pool retracting.  It was weird to actually witness it for once – no-one else ever piloted One if he had any say in the matter, and he didn’t recall the last time he’d seen the launch process.  A roar of engines – similar but not the same as his own ‘bird’s cry – and the sleek shape of International Rescue’s first response craft soared into the sky.  It was a breath-taking sight, even though he was mentally cataloguing all the subtle differences in the moment he had before she was gone, smashing through the sound barrier effortlessly.

It was a whole different way to appreciate her speed.

“What’s her top speed?” he asked.  Other-John made a curious noise.

“What do you think?” he asked, and Scott sighed, pulling his eyes away from where she’d last been visible to look back at the blond man, whose attempt at fishing for information on his own Thunderbird was far from subtle.

“Mach 19,” he said.  “Officially.”

“And unofficially?” Other-John probed.  Scott shrugged.

“Never pushed her to see,” he admitted.  The airspeed record was his Dad’s, and he had no intention of breaking it.  If there was any craft that could, surpassing the TV-21, it would be Thunderbird One, but he didn’t want to.  It was a piece of his father he couldn’t bring himself to overwrite. “Mach 20.”

“Mach 19.6,” Other-John said.  “Thunderbird Two’s preparing to launch.  Virgil and Alan are taking Pod Three with the DOMO and Mole.”

“Alan?”  Scott couldn’t hold back his surprise.  “Not Gordon? And Pod Three?  Domo?  Mole?” One sentence on a subject he should know better than the back of his hand – did know better, back at home – told him that while Thunderbird One appeared largely the same, there were clearly fundamental differences in their main gear.

“You’d have chosen Gordon instead?” Other-John asked.  He was probing for more information because of course he was.  Any John would be a sponge for information, leeching it from whatever sources he could.

“Of course,” Scott replied, giving him the information because if there was one person in this universe that needed to know, it was the monitor on board Thunderbird Five, listening out for signs of his brothers. “Alan’s just a kid.  Gordon’s more experienced and doesn’t have homework to do.”

“So your Gordon… is up for it?” Other-John asked, fishing around further.  “And Alan – homework?”

“Why wouldn’t he-”  Scott cut himself off as a deeper rumble presumably signalled the other Thunderbird’s take-off, out of sight.  “You don’t have hydrofoils here, do you?” he asked suspiciously.  Other-John’s face fell.

“I was hoping there were more differences in life experiences,” he admitted.  “Gordon’s back will never heal properly.  Dad only sends him if Thunderbird Four is needed, or all hands are.”

“And he hasn’t driven him mad?” Scott asked, disbelieving. “Gordon would murder me slowly and creatively if I kept him grounded like that.”  Not-Dad’s temper and fury at being addressed as an equal rather than a superior came back to him and he frowned.

“If you kept him grounded like that?” Other-John’s fishing couldn’t get any more blatant, and Scott glared at him.

“Stop asking questions you know the answer to,” he snapped. Other-John held his hands up in mock-surrender.  An object on a cord was in one of his hands, Scott noticed.  It looked like an ancient microphone.

“I don’t know the answer,” he defended himself.  “I have suppositions and ideas, but not answers. I can’t actually read minds, you know.” Scott slumped back into his hollow and rubbed a hand over his face again.

“Yes, my Dad is gone.  Yes, that means I’m in charge of International Rescue.  Yes, that means I’m CEO of Tracy Industries,” he bit out. “And yes, that means I’m the legal guardian of my fifteen year old kid brother who should be worrying about school and not launching a damn rocket into space several times a week!”

The watch was silent.  Scott adamantly refused to look at it, to see what face Other-John was wearing – or if he’d hung up.

“No wonder you clashed with Dad.”  Evidently Other-John hadn’t done the latter.  “Scott’s just arriving at the danger zone, so Dad should be in the office at the moment.  Normally I’d say Gordon would be with him, but I know you’ve got him curious.  Scott grabbed his spare watch, and I don’t think Dad’s realised yet, but Gordon’s crafty enough to notice that sort of thing.”

“You think he’s looking for me?” he asked, reluctantly looking back at the watch.  Other-John shrugged.

“Unlikely,” he said.  “He knows better than to chase Scott when he’s in a mood.  More likely, he’s lying in wait for when you decide to return.”  Scott groaned.  Other-Gordon had been the quietest so far, and a quiet Gordon meant warning signs. Amber eyes had been watching him, though, scrutinising him perhaps the most closely of all the Other-Tracys, and part of Scott had been waiting for it to come to a head.  Apparently that time was now.

“My John knows how to keep his mouth shut,” he said. Other-John chuckled.

“I do, too,” he promised.  “They won’t hear anything from me unless they have to.”

“They won’t have to,” Scott growled, looking down at the watch as he tapped at his own communicator uselessly.  The red no signal symbol greeted him and he swiped it away angrily.  “Does this thing have map capabilities?” he asked.  “The entrances to One and Two are the same, but the house itself is nothing like home.”

“Not Three?”  Other-John sounded surprised.  “Odd that not all of them are the same.”

“Odd that your Four doesn’t even have her own entrance,” Scott retorted, although now he knew more about Other-Gordon – or specifically, that they were treating him like he was made of glass – he could see why.  What sort of family dynamic they had that Other-Gordon hadn’t driven them all totally insane in revenge was one he wasn’t too fond of contemplating.

“Thunderbird Four lives in Pod Four,” Other-John said, sounding slightly confused.  “Why does she need her own entrance?”

Pod Four?  And earlier, Other-John had said Pod Three was carrying a Domo and a Mole.

“You call Thunderbird Two’s modules pods,” he realised. Other-John blinked at him.

“Say,” he said, curiously.  Scott sensed another not so subtle probing on the way.  “You heard the briefing I gave Father.  What would you have done?  If you were with your own technology, I mean?”

“Thunderbird One and Two,” he said, not even having to think about it.  “Gordon with Virgil, taking Module Two.  Keep up to date information through Thunderbird Five and assess the situation upon arrival.  Configure the PODs as required once Two arrives and get those people out.  Get John on finding out how it happened and who was responsible.”  Kayo, Lady Penelope and Parker, too.

“You think it’s sabotage?” Other-John asked, surprised. Scott shook his head.

“Accidents are usually caused by cutting corners,” he said, jaw locking.  “Imbeciles who can’t observe safety regulations are a danger to everyone.”

“You’d shut them down?”  Other-John sounded astonished.  “Your International Rescue has that sort of authority?”  Scott scoffed.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said.  “We don’t have that authority and we don’t want it. There’s enough paperwork already.” Urgh, the paperwork.  Who would be doing that while he was gone, or would it just be piling up in neglect?  “We just give tip offs to the GDF and they handle it.”

“The GDF?” Other-John queried.  Scott decided to secure the watch to his wrist before he dropped it.

“Is nothing the same here?” he groused. “Global Defence Force.  The World Government’s military organisation.”

“International Rescue exists,” Other-John reminded him, and he sighed.

“No good to me when your tech is basically alien,” he pointed out, adopting Alan’s – and apparently Other-Alan’s - default.  “This watch is analogue.”

“Analogue?” Other-John asked, frowning.  Scott stared at him.

“Round dial of numbers?” he explained hesitantly.

“Well, yes.  What else would it be?” Other-John queried, as though the idea of any other type of watch was bizarre.

“Digital?” Scott offered.  Other-John’s face went blank, again, and he buried his face in his hands. “You’re kidding.”

“You have a name for ours, so it’s not entirely… alien,” Other-John pointed out, clearly as enamoured with the idea of aliens as his John.

“It’s ancient, is what it is,” he grumbled.  “We stopped using analogue clocks half a century ago. I don’t even know how to read the things!”  Virgil did, and John of course devoured anything related to communications, but Scott himself had never paid attention when Grandma had tried to show him on her own grandfather’s ancient watch; he’d been busy with other things, like raising four younger brothers.

“Half a century?” Other-John asked.  “Is your tech different because it’s futuristic?” Scott shook his head.

“I don’t think so.”  He tapped at the watch absent-mindedly.  “I’m trained in a lot of old tech, because not everywhere is at the forefront of technology, but I’ve never seen anything like this stuff.”

“We’ll just have to train you up, then,” Other-John said. “The fellas won’t mind.”

Scott could think of one man who seemed like he would.

“You never said if you could show me a map of the place,” he said instead.  “I need some shoes.”  The island was tropical, but that didn’t stop the dirt congealing on the soles of his feet from feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

“You’re planning on raiding Scott’s?”  Other-John sounded amused.  Scott thought he might be.  John would have been.

“Some other clothes, too,” he admitted, and Other-John laughed.

“I don’t have a map that labels the rooms,” he said.  “But here-”  His face disappeared and was replaced with a very basic, black and white map of the villa.  In the small watch face, it looked very cramped.  In one of the rooms, a blue light started flashing.  “That’s Scott’s room.”  Scott squinted at it.

“Can’t you make it bigger?” he complained.

“Not if you want to see how to get there,” Other-John told him and he groaned.

“You don’t have zoom and scroll?”

“Not on the watches.”  Scott was starting to feel lucky that was even an option on any device. Maybe this stuff wasn’t out of his history lessons, but it felt far behind the technology he was used to.  He poked at his own communicator again, and snarled at it when it merrily presented him with the red no signal declaration again.

“You okay?” Other-John asked.  His face was still hidden by the map, but he sounded concerned.

“Fine,” he growled.  “Stupid thing.”

“If you say so.”  Scott got the feeling he didn’t believe him.

Well, for the moment he had a plan.  Get back to the infirmary, navigate his way through the villa to Other-Scott’s room, and find something that wasn’t pyjamas to wear.

“Keep me updated,” he ordered, and got an acknowledging F.A.B before the line cut.  At least, he assumed it had.  He didn’t know the technology well enough to confirm it, but it didn’t matter either way.  Letting his wrist fall, he pushed himself to his feet and began the climb back down to the villa.

Chapter 5>>>

[mymoodwriting]

Kindness Goes A Long Way

F!Reader x Sicheng

Genre: Post Apocalypse AU

Warning: Anxiety, Fear, Revelations

Words: 2.4K

Chapters:

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Epilogue

Prompt: The end of the world is hard to accept as it is, but it’s even harder to be alone. It seems fate had brought you to Sicheng, someone who can definitely survive in the abandoned waste land that had become of Earth. You then find yourself with a group of others, and you might just have a chance at survival. The only problem is there’s something off about the group, something they’re not telling you, and it might mean the difference between life and death.

    As you opened your eyes, you could feel and hear the panic going on around you. The first thing you saw was the ceiling, recognizing it, and knowing you were still in the safe haven. Before you could really come back to yourself someone pulled you up and started dragging you along. You stumbled behind them, soon recognizing Haechan.

“What… what happened…”

“We gotta go!”

“Huh?”

    An explosion shook the environment, and you finally became aware of the attack around you. Vague memories of the infirmary were surfacing and you remembered what Sicheng had done. You saw Johnny, Mark, and Jungwoo running ahead of you as well, someone you didn’t recognize at the front leading the group.

“Where are we going?”

“Out.” The one at the front spoke. “We need to escape this place.”

“But… they know everything. All the possible exits and-”

“Not all of them.”

    You wound up in the tunnels, coming to a dead end. It gave everyone a chance to catch their breath, and then you noticed a secret passageway being opened up. You couldn’t say anything before you were ushered in, and began running again. As you ran you started to feel dizzy, and your feet gave out under you. The only reason you had clarity before, was probably because Sicheng was occupied, or even injured, and thus his connection was lost. Now it was clear that he had gotten it back. You were the only one affected, trying to fight back.

“Y/n!” Haechan was quickly at your side. “Y/n! What’s going on?”

“I… I think… Sicheng… you have to go…”

“We can’t leave you.”

“He’ll find… all of us… please… run!”

    The other man pushed his way towards you, and then he electrocuted you. It took a moment to register what happened, and a hand over your mouth muffled your screams.

“What are you doing, Taeyong!”

“You said there were nanobots in her system, a shock should disconnect the signal.”

    You were out of it, but Sicheng’s presence was no longer in your mind. You laughed, a bit hysterical, but you were quickly pulled back up to your feet.

“We need to keep moving.” Taeyong said. “Let’s go.”

    You continued down the tunnel, no running this time, but still moving quickly. When you came to a dead end, you realized all the weapons that were around. Taeyong grabbed something, telling the rest to arm themselves as well.

“What… what about the others?” You asked. “Everyone else that-”

“We can’t worry about them.”

“But there’s so many-”

“You can stay if you want, but I can’t. We were abused, and infiltrated. Others need to be warned and we can’t get a signal out down here. We’re fucked down here, so we need to go.”

“Yeah… yeah you’re right…”

    Once everyone was armed and ready you moved out. The sunlight caught you a bit of guard, somewhat having forgotten what it was like to feel it on your skin. Although you quickly snapped out of it and ran behind the others. Right now the goal was to just get as far away as possible. The chances of going undetected were low, but there was always the chance, just not this time.

    As you ran, you began to hear the familiar sound of drones. You glanced back for a moment to see two fast approaching. You yelled to the others to warn them, and then Jungwoo stopped and fired an EMP device. It landed on one of the drones and went off immediately, bringing them both down. It was a win, but would certainly attract more attention to your location now.

    A part of you wanted to stop, feeling like a liability, but you didn’t have to dwell on that too long. Haechan suddenly collapsed, and brought you to a halt. He was shaking, and you recognized a disk on his back, electrocuting him. When you tried to reach for it you screamed from a minor shock, scrambling away. One by one you saw the others fall, and looked back to see some drone approaching, along with actual robots. Despite not wanting to abandon your friends, your own fear drove you to stand and run.

    You thought you’d get electrocuted yourself, but instead the drones caught up to you. They got in your way and forced you to stop, circling you. Since you had nanobots within you, they were probably aware of that, and behind more cautious. You heard as their ammo chamber switched around, and then you were shot with a tranquilizer dart. You didn’t even fight it, just collapsed to the ground, the last thing you saw was the blue sky.

♥♥♥♥♥

    To wake up in the haven once again, you felt like everything that had just happened was merely a bad dream. You kept that belief until you looked around. You weren’t in your room, or the infirmary, and Sicheng was next to you, a holo screen projected in front of him. Robots and drones were also clearly visible in the area, and then there were the humans. It was eerily quiet of life, just the sounds of machinery and order in the air.

“Sicheng…”

“Ah, you’re awake.” He shut off the holo screen and knelt down next to you, gently petting your head. “How are you? I was worried when you suddenly fritzed out. Thankfully the drones just tranqed you.”

“What…” You felt the tears coming. “What happened…”

“You know what happened. Well, maybe not exactly. Everything’s fine now. There was resistance as expected, but we’ve taken control now.”

“What… what about… casualties…”

“…”

“Sicheng…”

“A few… some humans are very resistant, and things get complicated. There are injuries as well, but everyone will be treated appropriately.”

    Sicheng sat you up, and you could get a better view of the haven. The humans were standing around like cattle, being ushered to who knows where. You didn’t even realize you were on your feet until Sicheng was leading you somewhere. 

“At least this is all over now. I can finally get you home.”

“Home?”

“Yes, we should have been there long ago. There is so much for you to see.”

“I…”

    You were trying to wake yourself up, but the tranq you were given was certainly strong. Next thing you knew you were somewhere else, closer to the entrance of the safe haven. There were a bunch of robots and drones around, but none paid you any attention. You noticed this big pod on the floor, multiple ones in fact, and then you noticed the people in them. You stopped in your tracks, suddenly pretty awake.

“What?” Sicheng followed your gaze. “Ah, that’s just for transport. We have a rather long way to go, and this can make the trip easier.”

“Ah…”

“You’ll be fine, just like going to sleep.”

    Before you could think of some protest you began to feel tired. You leaned against Sicheng, barely able to keep your eyes open. You couldn’t fight him as he picked you up and put you into one of those pods. He promised everything would be fine, and that he’d see you soon. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, and then you drifted off to sleep.

♥♥♥♥♥

    Again it felt like a dream, waking up in some medical place, and the strange nurse attending to your IV drip, which was blue, certainly didn’t help you think anything was real. When they noticed you were awake they offered a smile, but left without a word. You’ve seen it before in movies, the protagonist waking up in an infirmary and immediately getting out of bed and ripping out the IV. It seemed foolish, but being in a similar situation, you understood the need to do so. Although you actually couldn’t.

    When you tried to move you realized your wrists were strapped down to the bed, as were your ankles and torso. You were basically immobile. Of course you were still too weak to make a fit, so all you could do was look around, and that certainly didn’t help. You weren’t alone, a row of beds across from you, and at your sides, and many were occupied. They were all in a similar situation as you, and then you recognized someone.

“Haechan… Haechan wake up…” The boy groaned. “Haechan… please…”

“Hm…” He slowly woke. “What…”

“Haechan, are you okay?”

“Where… what happened?”

“We lost… I think… we’re south…”

“South? Isn’t that… wasteland?”

“I’m not sure… I just-”

    The nurse came back, and this time you were well aware of the glowing blue eyes. They didn’t speak and approached Haechan. You weakly pulled on your restraints, scared for him.

“No! No, leave him… Haechan…”

    The boy drifted back to sleep, and you were scared to be alone. You thought maybe the nurse would put you under as well, but they simply left. It was quiet again, besides the humming of all the machines. It felt so isolating, and then you heard the door open. When you glanced over you could see Sicheng. He seemed especially happy.

“Hey, I was wondering when you’d wake up.”

“Where… am I?”

“My home. I showed you a bit before, remember? Now I can show you for real.”

“What… what are you going to do…”

“Nothing yet, we’re still collecting data, but now that you’re here, things should go by faster.”

“Data? On what?”

“You. Now I talked to the nurses and got special permission to get you out of bed. So let’s go.”

    He messed around with the machines, and removed the IV and other needles. He undid all your restraints and helped you up. You were a bit unsteady at first but then got your footing. He walked with you, slowly at first, leading you out of the infirmary. You saw other people around, or at least they looked like people. Smaller drones floated around the halls, and there didn’t seem to be any robots in sight.

    When you got outside you were met with blue skies, a warm sun shining down, and just normalcy. You had to rub your eyes to make sure your vision wasn’t messed up. It looked like, and felt like, you had just stepped out of a small clinic. Buildings surrounded you, along with trees planted along the sidewalk. It seemed like a normal town, so happy and peaceful, as if there had never been a war, as if the world hadn’t ended.

    Sicheng led you down the street to a beautiful park, and that’s where things got more insane. You could see kids, and their families, enjoying the weather and having picnics. The kids were smiling and laughing, playing games with each other. You felt like you were hallucinating, that things couldn’t just be this great, not after everything. While you were lost in your own world, Sicheng brought you over to the shade of a tree, sitting down in the grass, his arms wrapped around you.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“…”

“This planet has such beauty that needs to be preserved and protected.”

“Am I dreaming?”

“No, not at all. I assure you this is very real.”

“How… the world… it’s in ruins…”

“But it can be repaired.”

“What… what are you?”

Sicheng sighed. “I was human once…”

“What?”

“I’m different now, better.”

“We were at war… I don’t…”

“Yes, I understand your confusion. The robots were hunting us, until they saw a better way.”

“A better way?”

“We didn’t have to fight each other to death. This planet was dying, the people were dying, so there needed to be drastic change. By coming together, we can be better.”

“Coming… together…”

“Here.” Sicheng placed your head over his chest, it was quiet, and then he had a heartbeat. “I’d say we’re the next step in human evolution. A combination of man and machine that works harmoniously together. Improves the quality and longevity of human life.”

“You’re… you’re part robot?”

“Yes, we merged to become a better… being.”

“Why… but… we were killing… each other…”

“We were, but things have changed. There was no point in slaughtering each other if we could save one another.”

    You were still trying to wrap your head around everything he had just said. Even trying to understand the reality of the world around you. Although everything came to a halt as you finally put the pieces together for a mystery that had been following you since the beginning.

“You… you saved me… because I was compatible… does that mean… does that…”

“If you’re asking whether or not you can upgrade, the answer is yes. Despite the goal, such an operation can’t be performed on everyone. It’s a sad reality, although there is hope you can help change that. Your bioengineering background makes you all the more important to protect. We’ve slowly been expanding, and hopefully one day the whole world will be as beautiful and as peaceful as this.”

“No…”

“Hm?”

“I don’t… I don’t want any part of this!”

“I understand your-”

“What about all the people who aren’t compatible!? What do you do with them?”

“We make sure they live a good life, and are here to help usher in the next chapter of human history.”

“So you enslaved them?”

“It’s not like that.”

“It is!” 

    You didn’t care that you were attracting attention, and ruining this peace. You pulled yourself away from Sicheng, just wanting the distance, because there was nowhere you could run, nowhere to escape to. Sicheng didn’t seem concerned with your outburst, calmly approaching you.

“We should get you back to bed. There’s still a lot-”

“No! I don’t want this! I don’t want any part in your delusional utopia!”

“I understand your concern, I was in your position not so long ago.”

“Stay away from me!”

“I’ll help you adjust, it’s gonna be a lot to process, but you’ll be okay.”

“No! No, no, no!”

    You wanted to run, you wanted to do something, anything, but you couldn’t. Sicheng’s eyes had a soft glow to them, and something was quietly and softly pushing down your panic. He got close to you, gently petting your head.

“You’re gonna be alright. When you open your eyes again everything will be different, and it’ll be wonderful. I promise.”

    You wanted to cry, to fight, to scream, but all you could do was relax in his embrace. Your world, the world as you knew it was fading. You could barely keep your eyes open, and you so desperately wanted to stay awake. You couldn’t worry about the others, the fact that they were going to go through the same thing as you, except they didn’t know their fate. You never imagined that you’d wind up here, but as your world grew dark you knew there was no going back. Your fate was sealed, and there was no telling what came next.