#and as someone who is doing a body language study on Emp right now

[comicbooksidecharacter]

Hiraeth [Part 32]

Bucky Barnes X OC (Amelia Stone)

Hiraeth: (n.) “longing or deep yearning for a place, time, feeling or person long gone; or that never was.”

Summary: Bucky finds the OC working on a case she was specifically told to stay away from. He can’t help but stay close to her.

She couldn't really tell him. She felt like it would end everything. She could just look at his feet, contemplating the situation she was in. Bucky took this time to notice her condition. Even the dim light couldn't hide that she was thinner, maybe paler, than before. His eyes inevitably fell on her chest, as if he could actually see through her shirt at the wound. The shirt on that side looked a bit raised, maybe she had bandages or support on. Her reluctance to use her right arm told him as much.

"I just want to solve this mission", she replied, "That's all." "Why?" "Because I am sure this is connected to the shooting", she replied. "I was so close to finishing the mission but then .. " Bucky let her hand go and stepped back to take a good look at her. "I'm not convinced." She could only look at his face; his features looked stern, his eyes dark. "Missions get switched from agent to agent every other day, this is a normal thing. I don't see why you would need to run away like this." "How did you find me?", she inquired, still unwilling to share her thoughts. "I was in the gym with you", he said, "I was trying to find the answers. Had to go through 40 gyms, got nothing. Then I decided to go underground, and luckily, here I am. I was convinced that you would not let your case rest. I thought I was going to miss you again, but right after I went in, I felt a surge in EMP... I was sure it was you." She looked at his metal arm. It was covered but his wrist could peek through the sleeve and the glove hem. "So you can feel it?" she asked monotonously. "Your power is not really focused on objects as it should be, I am sure others objects suffer some fluctuations too. But it's definitely better than the last time you stopped the bullets." She sighed and averted her gaze, walking towards the reminiscent of a kitchen counter. "So, what do you want, Bucky?" "Don't try to distract me from my question", he said with utmost calmness. He could read her body language, she was trying to feign normality, but her body was stiff. She could read his body language, he was certain, assertive, just like he always was when things were under his control. "Why did you run away?" There was silence for a few moments and then he spoke again in  softer voice. "Amy", he replied, "We were all worried about you, you were shot. How could you run away like this? We wanted you to heal.." "I think healing is out of the question now", she replied in a mocking tone, dropping her shoulders, "If you or the others think that I can go back to normal, and continue life like it was before, that is wrong. I am not the same person, Bucky. I have changed. I have vivid nightmares of what happened to me. I can't think straight. I can't sleep because the pain gets so bad at night. The only thing I had, that gave me some sense of purpose, was my job; being able to decipher codes and unravel mysteries, being able to take down evil simply with the power of human intelligence... all that was taken from me because of this. " "I have to live like this now", she announced. "I want to solve my case, and get my job done... this is my only chance to prove I'm worth being an Avenger." Bucky got a bit annoyed and made his way over to the counter. "YOU are the one who told me that I should not identify myself on the basis of the bad that happened to me or the things I did. Right back at you, Amy. You have not lost your abilities; you are still smart, and kind, and .... amazing. You don't need work, people, or circumstances to define who you really are on the inside." She lowered her head in doubt; now she could understand how Bucky felt when she said those things to him... such words were hard to trust, even if everything in the world said they were. Suddenly she heard a sharp sound; the sound of a silenced bullet, too close to her ear. She heard someone collapse a few inches away. Bucky had shot someone, then again, then once more. She couldn't do anything but cover her head out of sheer surprise, he was quick to move away and stand right in front of her as a shield. The noise subsided with the sound of the last body crashing on the floor. "We have to get out of here", she announced what he already knew, rushing to the bag that lay in the corner of the kitchen. Shoving the file inside, she followed Bucky to the door, stopping only when she saw a familiar figure lying on the wooden ground. The man with the 1960 tattoo. "Damn it!", she announced, studying his face over and over again as if it would bring him back to life. "What did you do?", she asked, "You killed him." "Killed who?" She pointed to the man on the floor. "I didn't shoot him", he stated, confused. He was certain that this man had not appeared in front of him. "He was..." "We have to get out of here", he interrupted, as the sound of boots grew louder/ Bucky was anything but weak. He took no time to push her inside the room, forcing the door shut despite her protests. She could hear the grunts and groans of the unfortunate men who had provoked him. With mechanical precision, swift movement and unconstrained brunt, he was rendering men unconscious, even breaking bones. The loud thuds of collapsing bodies was testament that the predator, the Winter Soldier, was still embedded in his fight system. She had tried to form a force field, but she didn't know how effective it had been, given that she couldn't focus. Her anxiety had surged and she was expecting the worst. She wanted to protect Bucky from the guns. After a few minutes, there was no more noise, just silence, and a lingering smell of gunpowder. The door unlocked.

She only took one step forward and put his arm around him. Bucky felt her body shudder a little as her right arm unraveled from her side and settled around his torso. For the first time ever, she felt the coldness of his metal arm, lightly settle on her body, touching her waist. He was stiff as a board, but didn't resist her embrace. For a moment, she wanted all her pain to vanish away with the warmth of his body. He could feel her desperation and pain, consumed by worry over her arm.         "It's ok", he said, "I'm here".

In a sense it was so grotesque; bodies lying around as she held on to him. She extracted all sense of warmth and comfort from the embrace, reveling in the firmness of his body against hers, the sense of pain losing potency from this support. "We need to leave", he said, "they know where you are."

She was quick to follow Bucky, stealing one last glance at the dead Russian. No word was said as the escaped the building, ran through the alleys, left darkened by her abilities. The night was cold, or maybe it felt colder because the adrenaline had run out and the body needed to cool down. It was only 15 minutes later, when they entered a cemetery, that he motioned to stop. After catching his breath, he asked "Who was that guy?"

She tried to level her breathing. Her forehead felt colder to her because the anxiety also made her sweat profusely. If she were being honest, she didn't know how long she could keep up the "put-together" act before just letting it all go and telling Buck everything about the case. She wouldn’t give it up, of course, but at least she wouldn’t have to keep up a façade either.  There was no veil she could put before him, his eyes were struck with worry as he traced her body in the moonlight. He remained speechless. He knew why she was quiet; the girl who always eluded his understanding seemed to be like an open book to him.

  "Amy... you can trust me", he replied, "I won't tell anyone. But you have to be safe."

She looked at his face and tried to drink in the pain she felt. "You'll just tell everyone where I am. They'll get to this point in the case. I know, I sound stupid Bucky, but I really want to do this on my own, like I was doing before." "Amy, there is not a single case in our work that doesn't need anyone's help at SOME point. We use spies, whistle blowers, messengers, technology, friends... all of them. I want to know what you know. I won't jeopardize your mission, I promise. I can't leave you alone like this either."

She was honestly surprised. A few months ago, this man would have walked away at the first sign of exclusion. He would have left without any further questions. He never bothered anyone with his presence and didn't get offended if he was ignored. But this man was behaving a little differently. This man was trying to reach out to her, offer some help. Perhaps it was because he shared the same predicament with her.

  "Trust me, please", he began. For one moment, she stopped herself, she didn't know why. The thought that he had once been a trained assassin for HYDRA rose it's head. What if he turns? What if this was all pretend? But she chastised herself and nodded. "The man who got killed, he was supposed to meet me some time later. I don't know when or where, but he had important information. I haven't even looked at the file before all this happened." She pulled out the file from her bag and illuminated it's contents, while Bucky surveyed every side to see if they were alone. "I KNEW IT!", she held the file firmly. "He IS alive..." Bucky's face expressed confusion. She shook her head and assembled her bag again. "We need to be out of here first." .-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-.     

Taglist: https://my-favorite-fics-and-imagines.tumblr.com

[mo-mo-and-porkchop]

42. "This isnt going to have a happy ending" (Seven)

@youbloodymadgenius

(Sorry this took so long.)

[Ala Alice in borderland on Netflix. ]

Oscar stared at the ceiling of his latest dwelling - a small, studio apartment no bigger than a hotel room. A fan whirled quietly, pushing a small breeze throughout the space. He let his eyes drift to the singular window and out to the roadways and parking lots the complex surrounded. Thin walls allowed him to hear everything his neighbors went through, day in and day out. Drab colors covered the walls making the space even more depressing.

What a shithole.

However it wasn't the worst place work had sent him over the years. Given his station in life he had been required to live in some of the shadier places on Earth. Being a hired hand for the most powerful players meant you went where they sent you. No questions. If he had known his experience in spec ops would turn him into a glorified errand boy he would never have replied to his recruitment.

They're lucky they pay so well.

He sat up with a sigh and forced himself from the futon. A female living to his right was on the phone with, whom he could only assume was a friend, complaining about her most recent bout of dieting. Her cat ate better than she did according to her.

Oscar shuffled to his small bathroom and splashed cool water across his face. He'd been there a month already and his target had yet to show up. He huffed silently to himself. He tried to warn the powers that be to move on from their obsession. After the doctor's botched experiments, they turned all of their attention to a nobody, twenty something.

A fucking kid.

As he dried his face two male voices drifted through his walls, catching his attention. They stood just down the hall and were easily heard. He listened as they discussed benign details of their day and, judging by their voices, they were 409 and 411.

Buzz. Buzz.

He glanced into his apartment at a small kitchen table that doubled as a nightstand. His phone lit up before buzzing once more indicating a text had come through. He tossed the towel onto the edge of the sink and went for his phone.

He swiped up and unlocked his phone to see a picture of Dahlia smiling brightly on the beach. Followed by the question:

[sms: jealous?]

A soft smile tugged at his lips when he saw it was his sister. And yes, he was jealous. He huffed quietly and sent a picture of his current view.

[sms: not really]

[sms: stop bragging] was her reply.

A hard, loud series of knocks at his door pulled him from his phone with a slight start. He wasn't expecting anyone. No one knew he was there, save his sister. And his 'boss' never frequent his residences. They did all their business virtually. The less connected they were physically the better.

The knocking repeated itself and he went to check his doorbell camera. Oddly no one stood there. The hall was empty. Silence began to creep in from all around. Then all power crashed.

All power.

The lights, the camera, the ac, the hall lights. Everything electronic had gone down. Not even his phone was working.

'What the hell?' he asked no one as he tapped the screen and shook it a little. 

He wasn't sure what he hoped would have happened by doing it. It was like blowing on the game system when the cartridge didn't work - useless, but somehow hopeful. When nothing else worked he carefully opened his door, peeking through the hall.  His unknown knocker was still at large.

Seeing that things were all clear, he went to neighbor's and knocked. Maybe they knew more about what happened. Silence followed. He waited a minute and tried again. Still nothing.

"Hello?" he called through her door.

He knew she was in there. She'd just been bitching to her cat, jealous of his superior meal plan.

"I'm from 408."

Silence.

Odd, but maybe she was cautious of unknown males. Although neighbors they knew neither beyond a simple greeting in passing. Something that happened rarely since he'd arrived.

He left her door and went to his other neighbor's. Repeating the same process, resulting in the same response.

His heart began to race as each and every door on his floor resulted in nothing more than silence. He seemed to be the only person there which was impossible. He rushed down the stairs and to the lobby, finding it eerily empty.

"Hey!" he called throughout the lobby as he searched for someone, anyone. "Hello?!"

Oscar left his complex and headed for the streets - which he found littered with abandoned cars and deserted.

What the fuck?!

"Hey!" he yelled louder, darting from car to car, his search still coming up empty.

At this point it felt as if his heart would break through his chest it was beating so hard. His mind raced. Panic was not something he was used and he handled it very poorly. The only one who was ever able to calm him on the rare occassions it did hit was his sister.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the black screen. It still wasn't working. He glanced around to try and find his bearings and noticed something.

The marquees had gone black. the street lights were out. Even the cars wouldn't start. Everything electronic was down. Like an EMP had hit, rendering it all useless. But that didn't account for the lack of people. Oscar had no idea what could have caused that since he remained. His mind went to the only explanation he could think of.

This was hell.

But he didn't remember dying. He'd been in his apartment minding his own business. The knocking was the last sound he heard. Not a gun shot or explosion. Just loud, hard knocking.

A month had gone by. In that time he'd searched nearly every part of the city and found nothing. No one. Each building was just as empty as the last. He scavenged supplies as needed and continued searching for anything to explain away this very real feeling delusion.

Suddenly a small tv screen lit up nearby - a lone light in the darkness. He squinted to see it clearer as he neared.

'Game arena this way.'

Game arena?  What the hell? 

A large arrow pointed to the right and looked where it pointed. As if on cue, a spotlight shown into the sky, illuminating a building a few blocks away. A glance between his phone, which still wasn't working, and the screen was all he took before heading where directed. This was the only thing different to happen since arriving.

He came to an apartment building slightly smaller than his. It too was dark save for the spotlights and some emergency lights running on a gas powered backup generator.  It was just as abandoned as the rest of the city.

Cautiously he entered the building. He'd been through a lot of shit in his day, but this was eerier than hell. The silence was nearly driving him mad. Nevertheless he made his way through the hall, arrows leading the way. He finally came to the end of the hallway. A small table with cell phones and an elevator were all that greeted him. The elevator was down and the phones were off, just like the rest of the city.

Great. More nothing.

He tried the nearby doors and found them all locked. He left to backtrack out when he finally ran into others. Instinctively he grabbed one up and held him against the wall, holding his hand out to keep the others at bay.

"What the hell is going on? Who are you?" he asked glancing between the three of them.

They remained silent, but by the looks of thing he wasn't going to get any answers from them. He could almost smell their fear. Once Oscar actually took the time to actually see them he realized he'd overreacted. They were young men.  In their mid twenties at best. Kids. He was an ex military turned merc who had done a great job of staying fit. He must have looked like a monster to them. He relaxed his grip and held up both hands in apology, taking a small step backward, keeping them all in his sights. 

"Sorry. You're the first people I've found since...getting here and I thought you might have been responsible for whatever is going on," he explained.

They silently shook their heads once they were able to overcome their surge of fear. "We are just as lost as you," one of them said.

He looked at the three of them, studying their body language - which told they were being truthful.

"Do you know what is going on?" a second one asked when the silence became too much for him.

Oscar simply gave him a look to convey how stupid he thought that question was considering their initial meeting.

"Right. Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"We don't know anything," the first one admitted. "We were goofing off and then everything disappeared. It wasn't until dark that we were showed the way here."

Oscar nodded slightly. Aside from the length of time they were here, it was the same as him. "I've been here a month if my count is correct and haven't found shit. Except you guys," he said glancing between them.

The one with the stupid question took a few steps, peeking around the corner. He saw the elevator and table full of phones. His demeanor seemed a bit more hopeful at the sight. "There are phones down here," he said to his friends before taking off for them.

"They don't work," Oscar called out, but the other two had already rushed to join their friend.

When they picked them up the screens woke up. Their faces were scanned and a woman's voice came through - explaining registration was closed in five minutes and the number of participants, which as of now was the three of them.

"What the fuck?" Oscar said picking up a fourth phone. It scanned his face and replayed the same message. "These weren't working when I found them," he said more to himself.

Before they could discuss the recent turn of events a woman emerged from around the corner. She was dressed in business casual attire and looked vastly out of place. She calmly walked toward them and picked up a phone, repeating the process as the rest. This time however the registration time had gone down by two minutes.

"What does that even mean?" the third guy asked when he heard her message. "Registration?"

"Its a game," the woman said, breaking her silence.

"Game? What do you mean game?"

Without a word she pulled out some kind of ID badge and threw it down the hall. They all watched as a lazer shot out and precisely hit the tiny card.

"Once you cross the barrier you have now choice but to play."

"What game?!" the first guy asked again, frustration and worry in his voice.

"We are all in this game," she began to explain. "Each one is different and if you don't complete their tasks you die."

"Their?" Oscar asked.

She shrugged her shoulders "Whoever is running it."

A second girl showed up and when she saw the groups of them she rushed forward, happy to find other humans. The trio of guys tried to stop her, but it was too late and she'd crossed the threshold. Quietly Oscar handed her a phone. After scanning her face the voice rang out that registration was closed and there were six participants. It continued stating the game's name - Dead or Alive - the difficulty - three of clubs, whatever the hell that meant - and the one and only rule:

Pick the right door and exit within the time limit.

Just then the elevator door opened with a sign on it's back wall simply stating 'Start'.

Oscar sighed and quietly told himself "This isn't going to have a happy ending" before heading inside it with the others.

[were-cheetah-stiles]

The College Years - Sophomore Year (Chapter 29) - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles​

Title: “The Babylonian Allegory”

Characters: Stiles Stilinski & Reader/OFC

Summary: Y/n and Stiles begin figuring out more about their new foe, and what brought it to Beacon Hills.

Chapter Twenty-Eight - Chapter Twenty-Nine - Chapter Thirty

Stiles woke as his nurse came in for pre-dinner rounds to check his vitals. He glanced down and saw his y/h/c haired girlfriend asleep on top of her notebooks on the edge of his bed. He motioned down to his nurse to pass him her laptop, and he tried to open it and adjust it in a way that was not painful for it to rest on his lap. He was researching for about an hour when she finally roused from her nap.

"I drooled on my notebook." You said groggily as you dragged your hand across your face and lifted your head. Stiles laughed and picked up your notebook, wiping it across the blanket on the bed. "How long have I been asleep for?" You asked.

"I don't know, but I've been up for about an hour so.."

"Did you find anything?" You asked, looking at your computer and books, wondering how he managed to get them from under you while you slept.

"Not much since everything is in an ancient language that I can't read, but... uh... let me see your notebook?" You handed Stiles your Ancient Mesopotamia notebook, opened to the page about the rabisu. "You wrote 'salt repels'... like, salt is their version of mountain ash?"

"Yea, I guess.. I can call Scott and tell him to salt people's doors along with painting the lamassus. Maybe rock-salt bullets for your Dad and the other deputies?" You spoke hoarsely as you regained full consciousness from your deep sleep.

"But like... any salt? Like, is kosher salt gonna do the trick?" Stiles asked.

"Shit... I don't know. Probably not, considering the Ancient Mesopotamian civilization came well before the Jews did, so Kosher salt would make no sense." You explained through a yawn.

"I love that you know more about antiquity when you’re half asleep then I’ll ever know even if I stayed awake studying for weeks.” Stiles rubbed his hand against your arm, and you smiled sleepily at his compliment. “What would make sense then?" Stiles directed the conversation back to the salt and your notebook, prodding you for more information.

"Okay, uh, Mesopotamia is the Fertile Crescent.. so like modern day Iraq, Iran, Syria, Jordan, Lebanon, Israel.. that area... and they all got their salt from like...” You stalled, snapping your fingers in the air trying to recall what you had learned in class about trade around the Middle East during the Bronze Age. “Oh shit, does it say in my notebook? I know we covered the trade of salt as a commodity in class." Stiles began flipping through your notes, as you got up to pace while you thought out loud. "NO I REMEMBER!" You shouted. "It came from the sea, so like the Mediterranean or the Persian Gulf."

"So probably pure, unoxidized sea salt?" Stiles asked. You nodded and began composing a text message to Scott. Stiles continued flipping through your notes. "You scribbled something in the margin, what does that say?"

You hit send on your text to Scott and walked over to the bed to lean over Stiles' shoulder. "Umm... summoned? I think, maybe. I don't remember why I wrote that though. I don't usually write that messy, so it must've been an afterthought or something he mentioned before class ended or something."

"Do they need to be summoned? Is this another kanima thing, because that really sucked." Stiles thought back unhappily to the time when Jackson terrorized Beacon Hills as a kanima.

"I don't know, google it." You watched as Stiles typed away on your computer, contorting his face in frustration as his search came up fruitless.

"There is nothing about this thing... how is there nothing?! If there's nothing, then how can someone summon it?" Stiles asked, aggravated.

"There's probably something in a book about Ancient Babylon or something that's not on the internet. Here, give me my computer, I'm gonna email my professor and ask him. I think he has videos of his lectures, and we can see what he said instead of just reading my notes." You began typing on your computer.

Stiles jiggled his foot lightly for about thirty seconds and then looked up at you. "Has he answered you yet?" Stiles asked, trying to lean in to peek at your computer.

"....I haven't even sent the email yet, Stiles." You smiled and shook your head, quietly laughing to yourself over how absurd and impatient your boyfriend could be.

Stiles sat in bed, flipping through your books and trying to scratch under his cast with your pen. "Anything? Anything at all?" He asked as he bit at his thumbnail.

"OH MY GOD. No. I've been sitting here hitting refresh for like twenty minutes and there is.... his reply. Thank god." You replied.

Stiles ripped the laptop from in front of you and you threw your hands up in exasperation. "It's loading, it's loading..... why won't this file load faster?!" Stiles tapped his finger against the area next to your trackpad on your MacBook Pro; impatient and fidgety. He just wanted to crack this case before you left him to go out and enchant all of the lamassu's that the Pack were going to paint around town that night. 

The video file loaded and Stiles hit play. "Is... is that what Professor Simon looks like? He's handsome... like, really handsome... is this why you loved his class so much?" You stared at Stiles with your eyes wide open, and an 'are you kidding me?' look on your face. "No... nope, of course that's not why you took his class... I'm just gonna shut up now."

"We have got to get you out of this hospital soon because you are totally losing it." You said as you shook your head at him, and reached over to your computer to turn up the volume.

"The Rabisu have to be summoned though. However, and unfortunately for those who didn't know, they were known to generally turn on their master, which became their first kill. The most famous account of this comes from one of the nine clay tablets that describe the myth of the Rabisu. In the story, a royal scribe had fallen in love with a Babylonian princess, but because of his commoner status, he could not marry her. The scribe summoned the rabisu to kill the King and the princess' suitor so that he could be with her. But the rabisu turned on the scribe, killing him brutally, and getting a taste of bloodlust, it went on to kill the entire royal family, including the princess... Now really, this is all just an allegory about the frustrations over the lack of social mobility in the Babylonian Emp-.... Yes, you have a question, Sam?" Professor Simon called on a student off camera in the video playing on your computer.

"Dr. Simon, did the tablet say anything about how they stopped the rabisu, or did it just stop after killing the royal family?" The student asked.

"Yea, so the tablet does go on to explain that a priest from the temple came up with a ritual and a spell that killed the creature, and that then the rabisu disappeared into a cloud of firey ash, never to be seen again.... until the next idiot summoned it, I'm sure. Which actually is a good segue into our next topic in Mesopotamian mythology: spells and incantations and the procedures of the temple."

Stiles hit the space bar on your computer, pausing the video, and looked up at you. "So someone did summon these things... who the fuck would do that?.... holy shit... Did Isaac bring over the stuff from the murder board?" Stiles asked you, frantically looking around his hospital bed.

"Um, no, he just brought my books and laptop, why?"

"It doesn't matter, I have my Dad's login information for the Sheriff's database." Stiles said as he began typing slowly on the computer. He scrolled through the case files in the database. "Oh come on, where is it... where is it.... Yes, this one." Stiles flooded your computer screen with crime scene photos of the man that the Sheriff's department had found in his home dead because his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

"Oh, well that's graphic..." You said, pinching the bridge of your nose and wincing at the images on your laptop.

"There was something that was bothering me about this. That's why I left it on the murder board. Parrish said that all of his wounds were the same as the other victims, except that this guy had his heart ripped out."

"And he was found inside..." You reminded Stiles.

"Does that matter though if he's the one that summoned them? If I was summoning ancient evil demons to kill people, I wouldn't do it in my backyard where people could see and hear me, I would do it in the privacy of my own home." Stiles stared up at you, trying to convince you that he was right.

"Does the report say why they found the body? Did the neighbors report a smell or something?" You asked.

Stiles scrolled, reading the report quickly. "No, his parents came home from vacation in Europe and found him...." Stiles sighed and pursed his lips.

"Who was it?" You asked.

Stiles scrolled back up to the top of the report and read the victims name. His face went white. "Oh my god... I know this kid..."

28 <- -> 30

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[fedoranonymous]

just post the thing

i’m only human and have a full time job, so i gotta deal with the fact that i’m not physically capable of writing every single little idea i come up with for a fic, even if it’s a good one or completing the set makes me happy. one thing i really wanted to do for a long time, though, was write at least a one shot for every way to ship keith with the rest of the paladins, with a bit of au flavor. this is the kidge one.

so I wanted Keith to be born deaf but they HAD to throw in the garrison giving Matt LASIK and being totally deaf is probably more of an impediment than having shitty vision, so like. They definitely gave Keith a Cochlear

honestly it makes sense because if something happens and your glasses/hearing aids break there’s gonna be bits everywhere so really the alternative is “people who are nearsighted/blind/hard of hearing/deaf just aren’t allowed to become spaceship pilots” since they’d be so far from replacements and what goes into/off of a spaceship has to be deeply monitored

it does mean we have to take a lot more steps before Keith’s hearing comes into play though

so first off: Lance’s Whole Everything is so much, all the time, but especially when ya boi isn’t used to hearing anything at all. And Keith isn’t used to talking, you know, with his mouth so much, so he gets worn out by trying to have a conversation like this so quickly 

and Lance is offended and also probably makes some (well meaning but incredibly shittily received!*) jokes about Keith’s voice being rough/giving out, how many words Keith has only seen written and not heard said aloud, etc. Just. They decided it was Keith’s decision who to tell and Keith decided he’d rather not be embarrassed than get help from his peers, and it backfired in the form of Lance McClain

As in canon, Keith doesn’t take Shiro’s “”death“” well and gets into a physical fight with Iverson and ends up dishonorably discharged over it. Unlike in canon (or, you know what, it’s my headcanon, show me where it’s jossed, I’ll wait), Keith steals Iverson’s car as an act of petty revenge

he crashes it and ends up biting through his own tongue. Maybe fucking with the implant a bit too? I’d have to do a bit of research into how these things work and how they behave if they’re damaged, if it’s gonna be constantly screeching/being annoying Keith’d probably get it removed anyway, and I specifically want him to be skipping out on further surgeries after a point because The American Healthcare Industry and also because I do want to deal with how being mute/hard of hearing/deaf affects people and not just an Informed Attribute. 

Like I want the Paladins to have to learn ASL, and have them realize how useful it can be and how everyone should fucking know it

So ya boi ends up largely back in society with a bit more ability to communicate, but it’s a Thing and he hates it so he doesn’t get out much

like honestly smartphones and text to speech are a GODSEND but people fucking detest having to wait for him to type/constantly think he’s snubbing them if he doesn’t have a “I can’t speak, let me type” set up (some kind of emergency button on his lock screen?)

I like the idea of him not being totally deaf (anymore, if I go that route instead of hearing aids, since it would have to be much more of an AU for him to remain deaf so why float it in the first place, you know?) but definitely hard of hearing so like, sometimes he has to hand people his phone and get them to write shit down because he just can’t understand and them getting mad because they think they’re making fun of his accent or something

only going to certain stores at certain times because the Nice Clerk is on shift

Also everything Red comes up with in Peaks and Valleys and its sequels. I love those fics.

also I’ve read more than one where Keith himself goes nonverbal for anxiety and/or autism related reasons, and those are all great too, but none of them quite have the couple of scenes I really really wanna see for this. They’re all great though.

So then Shiro falls back to earth and that goes largely the same as in canon, with the exception that Keith cannot talk, isn’t even gonna try to sign, and pulling out his phone for speech to text is too time consuming when you’re in a fight, so he’s down to communicating exclusively through interpretive dance and eyebrow gymnastics.

Lance just. Isn’t having it. being “”ignored“” is a trigger for him, so by the time they make it back to Keith’s dad’s shack, he snaps, grabs Keith’s shoulder from where he’s trying to open the door, screams at him to talk to him

so Keith goes for his phone, but it has a bullet hole in it. Apparently there was a very close call that Keith didn’t realize, and there’s a matching gouge in his jacket, which is all very traumatic, and Keith’s knees go out, but Lance isn’t done making this about him yet, so Keith ends up having to shout as best as he can, pointing in his own mouth and showing off for mostly just Lance that he doesn’t have a tongue

Lance blanches and takes a seat too, of course. He tries to ask Keith when that happened, but there are some things you just can’t communicate without words or a very strong visual, so Keith kinda halfheartedly shrugs

The shack IS Keith’s childhood home, though, so he does have a backup device that is literally JUST for text-to-speech, likely for in school when the teachers would have given a fuck about the fact that smartphones have calculators and he could “”cheat“” with it

so after he tries to dig that out, he goes all ⛧  ̷̲͕͠"̵̥̍Ẅ̵̤̳́̾e̴̹͒l̸̦̯̓l̴̢̿,̶͍̰̾̾ ̸̼̀̈́t̵̞̽͊ḧ̷̡̒i̵̺̞̽ṣ̸͙͒͋ ̵͕̯̄̋s̴͎̭̍h̶͔̻̓͊o̶͇̓́͜ṳ̵̂l̸̘͕͊d̷̯̦̐͆ ̵̧̈w̶̩͆ỏ̴͎r̴̖͉̋̏k̴̰̃̔ ̴̼̜̒͠f̸̙̓ô̶͔r̴̥̈́ ̸̖̎̊n̷̩̙͌͠ó̸̳́͜w̶̧̔̅.̸͓̜͑"̸̛͉̠ ̴̨̺̓ ψ and even he, having never had to hear it (assuming I go THAT route smh pick one binch) is HoRrIfIeD and it’s regulated to emergencies only starting immediately

Shiro wakes up asking where Marvin is and telling him to put that Demonic Teddy Ruxpin Ass Thing away

Hunk: “Wait, did you name your phone Marvin the Paranoid Android.”

Keith two thumbs way, way up, and a bunch of fingerguns and snaps

Hunk: “I love Hitchhiker’s Guide!”

Keith: *chef’s kiss*

yes this is one of my Candybar Scenes for this AU

A lot of things don’t change enough to be interesting, not in a prose format anyway. The Lions are psychic, so it’s not like Keith needs spoken words to communicate with Red, and while Altean text to speech isn’t possessed, Keith can’t write Altean

Oh look, guess who canonically wants to learn to read and write Altean too. Hello Pidge, time to kiss kiss fall in love

Pidge is honestly kind of puzzled to learn that not only does the garrison not teach ASL, but they also don’t require it as a prerequisite for signing up or offer it as an elective. Like. What if the radio goes out on your spacesuit? The fuck? So she bullies Keith into starting to teach her ASL as well as studying Altean with her.

the fact that Altean language learning casettes make Keith super happy but the fact that they rate pronunciation means he can’t? actually? do them? right now?

the way the show handles language makes no sense but the way they handle spacetravel science actively contradicts itself in the same sentence so I’m guessing that’s just their sense of humor and the netflix voltron team is a bunch of n e r d s

So it’s literally just Shiro and Pidge and neither of them are very good but Keith starts using ASL again because there’s a chance he won’t have to repeat himself in interpretive dance and pictionary and the rest of the team starts picking it up by osmosis, 

it really is useful for when Keith needs to communicate to Lance that there’s a ladder behind him that he can use to crawl up onto the ceiling at get on the other side of the guard for a pincer attack, etc. Yeah Lance only picks up half of that, but it’s enough to get him looking, and they really do work well together when neither of them are being precious as fuck

i love my boys but they are

scene where Keith does pushups with Pidge on his back, with her laptop. The bouncing makes it hard to type, but he ends up with a personal EMP device so he can safely knock out the robot gladiators in their training room in an emergency, that way he can train by himself the way he’d prefer. 

this is probably the first time (at least in a very very long time) that someone gave him an accessibility thing that was about making things convenient for him and not for them, and he may get a little choked up

Keith is in general just REALLY expressive emotionally, because he kind of needs to emote three times as hard to be understood. Whoever said 90% of communication is nonverbal needs to do some factchecking, in his opinion.

literally just because I want Keith around for a later scene and a stupid one at that, the Blades decide they can’t properly train/work with someone who cannot communicate in a crisis.

Keith tries to be like “I’ll learn Galra Sign Language/I’ll use text to speech/I’ll have Coran make me a new tongue/I’ll be support/Anything just let me get close to my mother’s family” and Kolivan’s like. Stars. Can’t do it. Not today.

He does end up send the communications that have Krolia ditching her deep cover assignment before shit hits the fan though. Kolivan can make what he considers to be a “tough but necessary call” but let’s not have all of them be ablest dickwads. 

he gonna get yelled at so hard when she comes back. She will train her boy herself, and Keith doesn’t have to change a thing about himself for that.

Kolivan: all according to keikaku dot jpg

So Keith’s miserable and it’s breakfast time, he’s kind of picking through the story, but he figures no body’s paying attention and he rambles about that for a while

Pidge has a too big bite in her mouth so she signs “Keith. how could I ignore you. you never shut the fuck up” 

And Keith. Has never felt so seen?

Pidge goes to swallow because what she wants to say next is important, then she signs anyway because that’s more important.

“yeah it sucks when people refuse to listen to you for no real reason”

Keith has to eat his breakfast under the table because he can’t look at anyone right now

so fucking in love

SO all that to say that, not being in the Blades, Keith’s around when Matt shows up,

Pidge: “This is my boyfriend, if you hurt his precious little feelings, I’ll show you how my bayard can be used as a shovel and bury you alive on an uninhabited planet.”

Matt: “Shouldn’t I be saying that?”

Keith: “What boyfriend? I’ll fight him.”

Pidge: “I’m talking about you, dingus.”

Keith: panic dot exe 

Keith: loading

Keith: executable “launch Pidge into the fucking sun” engaged

Keith: panic harder dot exe

Actually Keith being around probably changes a lot of the Kuron arc doesn’t it? Depending on if he’s a puppet Haggar can pilot or he’s got some but not all of Shiro’s memories or if he’s a perfect clone with added subconcious triggers. 

Would he know even as little ASL as Shiro does? Depends on if ASL gets coded in the brain the same way as other languages, since it seems like he speaks English fine. 

He also seems to fight fine, so yeah, operational memory is all there, no reason for him to not know ASL

I figure at the least we can have him be a bigoted dickhead about it, since getting Keith to fuck off/stop being around to notice how off he is being is a Priority, and that cluing the rest of the team in because why the fuck would he tell Keith to stop trying now when they all know sign now would be a very wholesome moment

Also maybe a moment back on earth where Lance/Hunk calls Keith over to where he’s speaking with his family and just starts signing what he’s saying automatically and just making Keith feel included would be nice

Hunk would be nice because I haven’t done much with him here but Lance would be nice because of what I have done with him. Pidge would also be cute if you wanted to keep this strictly romance, but I like the idea of Keith getting to connect to people beyond the connection he has with the person he’s dating. Those found family vibes are everything, y’all.

*I really think Lance is just one of those guys who likes the vitriolic best buds trope so much he tries to skip the normal acquaintance phase and that’s where all his problems lie! And considering I know a literal fifty year old man who still tries to do this, still doesn’t stop me from headcanoning the paladins as being in their mid twenties, please let me pretend I’m not enjoying a show about literal children being blown up in the engine room, shot at, stabbed, going on suicide charges, etc. This show is too dark to be about children, for my mental health.