#anyway. it’s like. fine now‚ i got big enough to resist and it stopped‚ but like. fundamental betrayal and you gotta just eat it and smile!

[aeide-thea]

[corporal punishment/child abuse cw]

lol @ the fact that my relationship with my father has to just. absorb and accept the fact that (1) he’ll do things like initially assert he didn’t spank me, when i’m in fact quite sure both my parents did, and that (2) when pressed on this point, he’ll retreat into ‘well, you were really impossible to deal with sometimes!’ which is of course obliquely if not explicitly framing those spankings as justified…

like. holy shit. i mean it’s all so textbook—they didn’t treat my sister and me as brutally as their parents treated them, so what they did must be fine by comparison, right?—but unfortunately the predictability of it doesn't actually resolve the feelings for me!

[henneseyhoe]

Just One More| 4

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: fluff, mentions of pregnancy, smutty descriptions(nun too serious), Lewis being absolutely in love with you and your body, mentions of weight, mentions of insecurity (reader isn’t necessarily insecure though), Dad!Lewis, Curvy!Reader (usually i write for curvy girls anyway sooo), takes place back when you first had your second twins.

SUMMARY: Lewis loves your baby weight.<33

1|2|3|4|

✮✮✮✮

Your body changed after pregnancy, that was undeniable. It changed with your first and it changed with your second. But this time around Lewis really noticed it. It wasn’t a bad thing, but you would rather your body how it was two years ago.

Your belly poked just a little more, your breast were heavier, your thighs were thicker, hips wider, and your pants seemed to have sized up twice. Though it had been ten months since giving birth and you were the same ole Y/N, you couldn’t help but want back what you had just a little.

But you still felt pretty, your husband made sure you did. There were moments you caught him staring a little too hard at your cleavage, earning him a slap on the arm and scolding about the children still being around.

But could you blame him? Who wouldn’t look if their wife was casually carrying around a brand new wagon on her lower back? It was practically just begging him to make passes. He tried hard not to stare too hard, he really did for the simple fact that he wasn’t sure if you were insecure like you were the first time around, but the more he resisted, the more he wanted to look.

You were just soooo fine. He couldn’t believe he had you to himself.

Sneakily, while in the phase of trying not to stare so hard, he’d pass by you in the kitchen, purposely but subtly brushing his front against your ass. Though the kitchen was big enough to do a damn cartwheel in even with a newly added peninsula, he still clung close to you.

He did it often but not enough to where you’d peep it too much, lingering touches on your hips and back along with longing eye contact until you’d break away and he’d take the opportunity to stare at your titties. He got away with it for some time until he brushed up on you one too many times in the kitchen and you caught him by the back of his collar and pulled him back towards you like a naughty dog.

“What are you doing?” You ask, already suspicious. He looks around in faked confusion, gently removing your hand away from his shirt and straightening the wrinkles you created.

“What’d you mean?”

Your head tilts at him with ‘Seriously?..’ written all over your face.

“Is there some kind of force field in the kitchen you can’t get by? Because you have been all up behind me all morning, sir” You pressed, taking a sip of your tea as you watch him attempt to come up with an excuse.

From that point on he knew he had been caught and stopped caring to hide it. It went from little touches and hidden glances to smacking your ass as you walked by him, leaving you a flustered mess, and shameless stares that made you wanna scream into a pillow to gather yourself.

Once you popped out socially and revealed your body to the world, there were mixed comments like always but nothing changed the views you had of yourself as you continued to move forward, and your husband just made it better for you.

It wasn’t always lust in his eyes, he just genuinely loved how he was here to watch nearly every stage of you. From young adult to a grown woman with a grown woman’s body (that he daydreamed about ravishing), constantly changing in beautiful ways not even he could fathom from a males perspective.

You were sexy two years ago and even sexier now, though he’d support you if you wanted to change. But until then, he would enjoy every single curve.

If you thought he was feral before, then how he was now needed a new word. He was on you like white on rice, peppered kisses on the wake up with a side of head from the back if you allowed it, which was hard not to give in to.

When he wasn’t with you or working he was with the children, masterfully getting the older twins to settle down in the living room before he’d immediately go find you in your office and make it his mission to pester you with his flirting. It was hard to be mad at him distracting you from work when he made every little word that fell from his lips sound so pretty.

“Lewis” You call, looking up from your designs to meet his gaze.

“Yes, my love?” He answers with a knowing smile.

“Stop flirting with your wife and go check on your busy bodied children”

He’d groan playfully at you, the word ‘wife’ still bringing him butterflies.

“Fine! You don’t like me today, it’s cool, I’ll change that tonight” He teased as you bashfully scold him once again, him stealing a quick kiss from your lips then making his way back out of the room to do exactly what he was told.

When night would fall he’d offer you a massage to soothe your body from the days work. Not entirely to just be a hornball but genuinely because he just liked to help. He also loved to be near you, to touch you. It was his love language and he got to express it thoroughly in these moments.

Sitting on the back of your bare thighs, he rubs warm oil into your recently washed skin, watching as his fingers dragged along your shoulders and sides, pressing into your back with his thumbs and massaging out whatever felt tense. You moaned happily and he smiles, leaning down and placing a kiss on your neck.

It was times like this that really made you admire the man you chose to be yours.

✮✮✮✮

💌~ i wanted to make this into an actual smut but i got sleepy so fuck it 😭

[bigboysfalldeep]

life in blue - posession

Officer Petersen is on a high in life.

Everything is going perfectly fine. He's started to build his own home a little further out of town for him and his soon-to-be wife, a beautiful young woman. They met years ago, and since then, Petersen has been sure she's the one. Today, his captain called him in to talk about a possible promotion. That would mean more days off, more money, and more time for his family.

Now, he's celebrating with his partner, Officer Clarke, whom he has known for nearly 5 years. It was way after midnight, and the two men had already emptied a dozen beers when the urge to go to the toilet got worse and worse. Petersen excuses himself, walks through the nearly empty pub, and closes the door behind him. Standing there, he unbuttons his pants and releases himself. He lets out a low moan in relief, closing his eyes for a second.

He hears someone enter the room as well, but the footsteps stop right behind him. When Petersen opens his eyes again, he turns around to see a young man looking at him with a coy smile.

"I'm done here, boy." Petersen says, pulling up his pants, thinking that guy is waiting for him to finish, but somehow he acts even weirder. The young man is wearing a black leather jacket, a white shirt, and tight leather pants with a huge tent forming inside them. The officer, slightly drunk, lets his eyes wander all over the man's body while he just stares at him, smirking.

"I've been looking for you, officer." He says suddenly, with a low, warm voice. Petersen frowns, confused, but somehow he feels relaxed. "Looking for me? Why?" He growls, trying to walk past him to wash his hands, but the man stops him by placing one hand firmly on his chest. "What is your problem?" Petersen pushes the man, who doesn't even flinch. Instead, he eyes the cops whole body, up and down, before their eyes meet again. "My problem?" he says, his voice getting even smoother somehow. "I..need you." The man bites his lower lip teasingly.

"Fuck off, fag." Petersen scoffs angrily and pushes right past him to wash his hands. Looking into the mirror, he notices that man still standing there, looking right into his eyes. Right then, they start to flicker, getting brighter and brighter. "The fuck is that." The officer says, truly unable to resist those beautiful eyes. "Beautiful, aren't they?" The man says, and without breaking eye contact, he locks the door next to him.

"What are you doing?" Petersen asks angrily, turning around. For a moment, he snaps out of this trance, but the man easily calms him down by placing a firm hand on his chest once more. "Relax. It's just meant to be the two of us." The man strokes Petersen's chest firmly, and at first, he takes a step back. He's much bigger than that guy, and he's not letting a man touch him like that.

"Im a cop; youre in big trouble if you dont let me go." The officer says it angrily, trying his best to sound as intimidating as possible. The man, however, just chuckles. "Oh, I know who you are, officer." He smiles teasingly and shrugs. "That's why I want you." Petersen shakes his head. He has enough of this bullshit, so he approaches the guy, trying to shove him away to leave that room and that pub altogether.

Somehow, that man anticipated that, and instead of letting him be pushed around, he grabs the cop's neck with one hand while pushing him against the wall. He's much stronger than he looks, and he easily pins the bulky officer to the cold brick wall. "Not so fast." He grins, his eyes now flickering again. "You're not going anywhere." Petersen fights back, but there is no use. "Let me go, now." He grunts as the man holds him with one arm against the neck and his other hand now on the officer's big chest again. "You can't leave just yet. The guy grins. "There is nothing for you to go back to anyway." The man chuckles again while stroking Petersen firmly with his hand. "Fuck you, I will not let you grope me." He channels his inner strength and manages to get off the wall for a mere second before his assailant pushes him back even harder. "So strong, eh?" He grunts now, too. "This will be fun." The man uses his arm to choke Petersen slightly, but more importantly, he holds the man's head in place to force eye contact.

Instantly, the man's eyes seemingly shine brightly, like a multicolored spiral that twists and turns. The officer fights, but he grows weaker by the second. Something inside him is drawn to this beautiful display, and his focus shifts to those flickering eyes. "Good boy, relax." The man says this, weakening his grip. Petersen's body slowly reacts as well, with his limbs going numb. "What are you doing?" He mutters under his breath, causing the man to smile again. "Preparing you for your new life" The guy smirks, letting his hand run freely all over the cop's massive chest. "I have a life." He grunts, still fighting, even though it's futile.

"That life isn't meant for you. Your whole purpose is to serve. To serve me, your true master." The man's strokes get more and more intense, and in combination with those alluring eyes, Petersen calms down. "Serve you?" He asks as he starts to rest his back against the wall. "Yes. Sounds good, doesn't it?" The man removes his arm completely, enjoying the sight of this beefy man slowly going under. "It doessss." Petersen smiles weakly, still watching those spinning eyes.

"You don't need that fancy house or that wife of yours." The man frowns now, narrowing his eyes slightly. He looks disgusted, even thinking about that possible life. "I dont...need...." The officer opens his mouth, and when the man leans into him, their faces are now just inches apart. "The only thing you want and need is me." He smiles again; this time, he strokes the cop's body with both of his hands, one on his chest and the other now firmly on the officer's tenting cock.

"Enjoying that?" He chuckles, rubbing the palm of his hand against Petersen's bulging cock. The officer's face softens; he raises his eyebrows, opens his mouth, and a soft, long moan escapes his lips. "Good boy. Were nearly done." The man makes sure to not break eye contact now, while he easily finds the officer's most sensitive spots. Stroking his pecs, his hard nipples, and down to his abs, he feels the cop growing bigger and harder inside his firm embrace. "Officer, can you hear me?" He says that then, and Petersen nods slowly. "Yes." The man tilts his head and smirks. "You need to grow even harder. Harder than ever before. I want you to put your whole focus on the tip of your cock. Understood?" Instantly, without any delay, the cop does as he is told. His expression hardens, just like all of his muscles. His whole body is edging him on to become bigger. As he concentrates more and more, the man can't help but touch Petersen. His huge biceps test the limits of fabric by pressing against the uniform shirt, as does his heavy chest. "Good boy." The man smirks, running both of his hands across the chest and back towards the massive bulge still forming inside the uniform pants. Enjoying the feeling of his master touching him, Petersen starts to drool heavily, his soft moans filling the bathroom.

"So big, huh?" The man bites his lip again, feeling his own throbbing dick through his leather pants. "Now. When I tell you to, you will cum, like you have never done before. And once you're done, you will be mine, following all of my commands. Understood?" Petersen nods painfully as the urge to release himself gets bigger and bigger, just like his already leaking cock.

The man lifts his head, watching the officer struggle heavily, before he grabs Petersen's thick cock, firmly jerking him off through his wet pants. "Now."

At this word, the officer's cock erupts again and again, shooting one massive load after another right into his uniform. His dick pulsates, vibrates, and twitches rapidly, in unison with the man's hand. The cops eyes unfocus before they roll back into his skull, his whole body being overwhelmed by pain and pleasure running through it. Moaning again and again, the man giggles, touching himself at the sight of this bulky man shaking uncontrollably. He drops to his knees, and his master steadies him easily, lifting his chin gently.

"Can you hear me?" The man raises his voice slightly, and Peterson nods, his body still twitching with his cock staining his entire pants. "Yes, master." The officer says, his voice dull, his eyes vacant, and his body hard as a rock. 

"Good." The man strokes his cheek with one hand, while the other is on his own bulging cock. "Now, before we go, I want you to help me. Suck me off, boy." He grabs himself firmly, and immediately Petersen leans into the man's crotch, unbuttons his leather pants, and pulls them down. The man's already wet, erect cock jumps into the cop's face, who eagerly swallows it. He must have sucked cock before, the way he knows how to please a man.

Steadying himself against the wall, the man lets out a low guttural moan when somebody knocks on the door. "Petersen, are you alright?" It is his partner, Clarke, who is looking for him. Annoyed, the man pulls at Petersen's hair to make him stop. "5 more minutes." The man mouths.

"Give me 5 minutes." He says it in a monotone voice, and at first, Clarke doesn't respond. Then he sighs. "Fine. "I'm going to piss myself soon; hurry up." They hear him leave, and as soon as the man lets go of the hair, Petersen sucks him off again.

It doesn't take long for the man to cum straight into the officer's mouth, who gladly takes multiple shots, before he orders him to get up. "Can you hear me, Officer?" He says this, straightening the man's uniform and stroking him at the same time. "Yes sir." The cop says

"You won't go home tonight. Instead, you will come to my place, your new home." He smirks, raising a piece of paper to put it in the man's pocket. With one last look at his new toy, he unlocks the door. "Don't be late." With that, he leaves the room unseen, and after tonight, Petersen will vanish without a trace.

[werewolf-cl4ws]

Sonsally Week 2024: Day 3 - Clothes

This one took a turn. It's an obvious theme with my AU but when it hits it's like "Oh I got angst in my fluff".

So I guess trigger warning for body image issues. Same deal as before taking place in my AU TimeSkip era.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“When are you ever not thinkin’, Sal?” Sonic pointed out.

“I have to do a lot of compensating because of one of us not doing any,” Sally sighed, unable to resist rolling her eyes at the hedgehog.

“Uh huh.”

“Anyway I was thinking now that you’re joining us on missions again, you should probably get some more suitable clothes for them,” Sally stated.

Sonic tilted his head at Sally, then looked down at himself, eye brows furrowed with genuine confusion.

“What’s wrong wit’ wha’ I’m wearin’?” Sonic asked.

Right now he was wearing a loose t-shirt and tracksuit pants alongside his usual gloves and a pair of sneakers. The sneakers were already showing signs of wear and tear, as they were just a regular pair that wouldn’t be able to withstand Sonic’s speed like his old sneakers did. But that wasn’t Sally’s concern as Rotor was already working on something that would help there.

What was not sitting right with Sally was everything else.

“There’s nothing wrong with them while you’re here at home,” Sally began. “But they’re way too big, even for you. Your shirt has already gotten snagged on something today.

Sonic was still looking over himself while Sally spoke, and when she pointed out his shirt Sonic winced when he caught sight of an obvious tear that wasn’t there when they had left the village. He grabbed his shirt to get a better look at the tear, frowning slightly.

“I mean yeah, true. But I like ‘em loose,” Sonic said. “I gotta be able to move.”

“I know, but there’s a fine line between comfortable and putting yourself at risk,” Sally said, before she gestured to herself. “That’s why I wear my vest - it’s fitted enough so it won’t get caught on anything, but I can still move around easily.”

“Yeah, but,” Sonic began, his muzzle scrunched up with hesitation as he tried to pick his next words.

He had never really been the type to wear clothes, as like a lot of mobians he found it wasn’t needed. The most he would wear was maybe a jacket or a sweater in the colder months, but even then he hated it with a passion as those felt too restrictive even if the trade-off was being warm.

But now he felt like he had to be fully clothed, for reasons he didn’t really want to delve into. But the main requirement for his new wardrobe was that it had to be comfortable, which meant that what he was wearing was maybe a size or two bigger than what he needed in reality.

That in itself also touched onto reasons he didn’t want to delve into, and he had a feeling what Sally was hinting at was going to cut right into that.

“It’s fine. I can deal with a few tears,” Sonic concluded a little lamely, unable to think of a counter argument that would shut down this conversation, but hoping that would be enough to slow Sally’s roll.

He turned away from Sally to emphasis his desire to end the conversation there, though when he started to walk away Sonic felt something snag his t-shirt. Before he could stop himself he stumbled back, just barely able to rebalance himself as he almost tripped over his own feet.

When he managed to right himself Sonic glared down at his shirt, only to find Sally gripping it in her fist with a strength Sonic had no idea she possessed.

“Oh c’mon!” Sonic protested, only to get yanked again. This time he managed to keep his balance, and couldn’t help giving Sally a small smirk of satisfaction when she ended up nearly tripping over herself when the tugging backfired on her.

“I’m just trying to show you it’s not about a few tears here and there. It’s about your own safety,” Sally countered. “I don’t want you ending up getting hurt just when you getting back on track over something so silly.”

“I’ll just tuck it in or somethin’, it’s fine,” Sonic sighed.

“That’s not going to work and you know it,” Sally stated.

She finally released Sonic’s shirt, and after he straightened it out Sonic sat on his bed, giving Sally a deadpan stare.

“Look, it’s an easy fix,” Sally explained. “Just let me take some measurements--"

“Pass,” Sonic cut in.

“-- then let Bunnie take some measurements--"

“Hard pass,” Sonic gritted, resulting in Sally growling in frustration. “Can’t she just use wha’ever measurements she had when she made these for me?”

“There were no measurements. She had to guess by eyeballing you,” Sally sighed. “And even then she knew she got most of it wrong.”

“Nah, she did fine,” Sonic waved off, before he flopped back onto his bed. “Just tell her to do that again.”

He felt Sally climb onto his bed to scoot up next to him, so he tried to avoid looking at her by staring up at the ceiling. Sonic managed to last about a minute before his eyes flinted towards her, seeing her staring him down and waiting with an infinite amount of patience that wore him down.

“I don’t want to,” Sonic eventually admitted, huffing sharply.

“I know you don’t, but you only have to do it once and then it’s done,” Sally pointed out. “I can come with you if that helps.”

Sonic clicked his tongue in frustration.

“… yeah, that might help,” Sonic sighed. “‘nd then she’s gonna make some new threads for me?”

“Yes.”

“I still want ‘em kinda loose though.”

“She can make them reasonably loose, yes,” Sally smirked. “And you can keep these for home.”

“… fine. When can she does this?”

“Bunnie said she’s ready whenever you are, I’ve already talked to her about it,” Sally said. “Honestly, it was her idea to ask, she really wants to make some new clothes for you.”

“Why? They’re just clothes, ‘nd I like wha’ she made for me already,” Sonic asked, tilting his head a little at Sally.

“She said she felt like it wasn’t her best work. And you know Bunnie, she just wants to do something nice for you,” Sally shrugged. “She also said she had some ideas already, but she didn’t want to start making them until you gave the go ahead.”

“I swear she fusses just as much as she breathes,” Sonic laughed, then sat up. “Let’s do it now then.”

“Right now?” Sally echoed, clear surprise in her voice.

“Yep. Before I change my mind. If she ain’t ready now she’s gonna miss her chance.”

His bravado lasted long enough to get himself to Bunnie’s place, and to get the cyborg rabbit to start preparations to gather whatever measurements she needed.

However Sally watched it fade almost instantly the second Bunnie asked Sonic to remove his shirt so she could get a much more accurate measurement. Which was a sight to be seen in itself, as she was used to Sonic being brave even when facing down something that would shake any mortal soul to its very core.

It was also strange, almost concerning, that Sonic couldn’t even muster up the words to try to argue a compromise with Bunnie. Instead he seemed to shut down entirely, his tail lashing back and forth in agitation as he took on the role of a trapped animal.

“Sugah-hog? Y’doin’ okay there?” Bunnie chanced, also noticing the change in the hedgehog. “We c’n do this another time if y’all wanna.”

When Sonic didn’t answer, or really even acknowledged that Bunnie had said anything, Sally jumped up from her seat and approached him as she gave Bunnie an apologetic look.

“Sorry, one second,” Sally murmured while she slipped her hand into Sonic’s larger one and gently tugged him towards her. Surprisingly Sonic followed her, though he still looked like a deer caught in headlights when she took him to one side of Bunnie’s hut so they could talk.

“Hey, are you all right?” Sally whispered.

The question seemed to snap Sonic out of his trance, if just barely, and he blinked at Sally as he tried to process her question.

“Uh... yeah. Just... you know...” Sonic babbled, his eyes wide before he weakly stated. “I didn’t think this through.”

It was a consistent characteristic for Sonic to do that, which Sally would have gladly pointed out with dripping sarcasm given any other circumstance. But watching it actually shatter his confidence so quickly made Sally’s own mind scramble to try to help him push through it.

“It’s okay. She’ll be quick so you don’t have to have it off for too long,” Sally attempted. “It’s just so she can get more accurate measurements, that’s all.”

“Ah’m just gonna be lookin’ at th’ numbers, hon. Nothin’ else,” Bunnie offered, then clamped her mouth shut when Sally shot her a glare while frantically made a cutting motion at her throat with her hand.

Her words though were like setting off fire crackers at Sonic’s feet, and it turned him into a bucking bull that Sally had to grab at desperately to stop him from rocketing out of the hut.

“Easy, Sonic! Easy!” Sally called, her voice strained as she held onto his shirt for dear life.

“This was a stupid idea! I can’t do this!” Sonic snapped.

“Yes you can,” Sally assured, tugging at Sonic’s shirt so he was now at her eye level. “Breathe first, look at me and breathe.”

Miraculously Sonic followed her instructions, though his breathing was so tense it sounded like his lungs had turned to stone. Sally cupped his cheeks and ran her hands through the fur that edged them, before running her hands up through his quills and along his ears, repeating the motions slowly.

“It’s okay, just tell me what you’re thinking,” Sally murmured.

“This is too different. I’m too different. I didn’t care before but no one was seein’ me either so it didn’t matter,” Sonic babbled, his voice catching at every few words. “I thought I could deal wit’ this.”

“You can, I know you can,” Sally assured, still running her hands along his cheeks and up.

She noticed that his quills were getting tenser with each passing second, so she switched to petting at his ears instead to not risk cutting her hands open from his quills. “I’m right here, and we don’t have to do it all at once. We can stop whenever you need to.”

“I just want it over wit’,” Sonic hissed.

“You can set the pace,” Sally said. “And you don’t have to look at anything or know anything because Bunnie isn’t going to say a word about what she’s measuring or seeing.”

The last part Sally said a little louder as she glanced at Bunnie, her expression stern enough for Bunnie to catch what she was hinting at. The cyborg rabbit nodded, desperate to make up for her slip up earlier.

“Mah lips are sealed, hon. Y’all just tell me when you want a break ‘nd Ah’ll stop. No ifs or buts about it,” Bunnie stated.

Sonic still looked like he would rather tear his own face off than go through with this, and every so often his eyes flinted to the door, desperately wanting to escape. But after a few minutes of having his ears petted and soft murmuring of reassurance from Sally his nerves started to calm, if just barely, and he took in another choked breath before he pulled away from Sally and stood in front of Bunnie.

“You get one shot, make it count,” Sonic murmured as he slipped off his shirt, but still held onto it with a death-like grip so that it was still within reach.

Bunnie got to work without another word. With Sonic’s height she did have to on occasion use her ladder-legs to get a more accurate measurement, and every time she did this Sonic would pointedly look away from her, his eyes fixated on a random spot in her hut.

Every touch from Bunnie also made him stiffen, his quills bristling whenever Bunnie had to linger for a little longer than he thought was necessary as his mind attempted to run away with ever possibility of why she was doing that. Whenever this happened Sally would snap her fingers to get his attention, then remind him to breathe by mimicking the motion herself. It would result in him taking another tense breath, though he would look a little calmer for it, if just barely.

The next challenge was asking for Sonic to strip further once Bunnie had gotten his upper body measurements down. Thankfully he was able to run through the motions of his panic in less time compared to when he had to remove his shirt, though it was obvious Sonic was getting to the end of his tolerance for the situation by this point.

All in all the whole session was about half an hour, as even with Sonic’s obvious discomfort Bunnie wanted to get as many measurements as she could just so she could avoid needing to ask him for more later down the line. But the moment Bunnie said she was done Sonic slipped back into his clothes and was out the door, not even bothering to put his shoes back on.

“Ah’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make that so uncomfortable for him,” Bunnie sighed.

“No, it’s okay. There’s just... a lot still going through his head, I think,” Sally explained. “Did you get what you needed though?”

“Ah did. ‘nd enough to guess anythin’ Ah missed, too,” Bunnie said. “Just leave it wit’ me. Y’know if he had any requests?”

“Just not too tight. So he can move around,” Sally said. “And... for other reasons, too, obviously.”

“Ah gotcha, no problem. Lemme know if y’need a hand wit’ him.”

Sally nodded, then headed back for her own hut, hoping Sonic was there and not on the other side of the planet by now.

Thankfully he was at her hut, though it took her a moment to find him as Sonic had buried himself under his bedcovers on his bed, a habit he had picked up since his return home. Sally resisted the urge to sigh as she sat down next to the lump of blankets and laid her hand on top of it, feeling it jump slightly at her touch.

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Sally assured. “You did great.”

“Yeah right,” Sonic grumbled, his voice muffled. “That was embarrassin’.”

“Maybe, but you still did it,” Sally pointed out. “I saw how many times you wanted to run and you didn’t. Give yourself some credit there, Sonic.”

“Maybe another time, Sal.”

Sally patted at the blanket pile, hoping Sonic could feel it as she was sure there were at least ten odd blankets on him.

“Well I’m very proud of you.”

Sonic didn’t respond for a while, making Sally wonder if he had dozed off after fighting off his panic for so long. But after a few moments Sonic murmured a quiet thanks to her, and she smiled, before giving him one last pat through the blankets as she moved away to give him some space.

[eliasiis]

break

pairing: platonic aether n scara

word count: 1.3k

so what am i supposed to call scara if i write about him?? i kept scara as his name because what else am i sposed to do. anyway i haven't done the archon quest yet forgive my transgressions and anything i mightve messed up about him

"Traveler! Traveler, wake up!"

Ugh.

Aether rubs his eyes with one hand, waving his other hand around in hopes of gently batting Paimon away. In his drowsiness, he completely misses.

"Hey, watch where you wave those! And wake up, we have a guest!" His companion says, opting to just shake him rather than uselessly yelling.

With a sour expression, the traveler sits up. "What guest? Who... Is it Hu Tao again? Tell her I can't find customers right now..." He's about to go back to sleep, but a swift kick to his side has him reeling instead. It didn't even hurt that much, not really, but it was unexpected. Paimon isn't big enough to kick him like that, so...

"Wake up. It's not a request."

Blearily blinking up at him, Aether stares up at the familiar blue-clad wanderer.

He can't even begin to imagine how Scara had gotten to Liyue, much less how he'd found out where they'd been sleeping. Hesitantly, he stands up and shakes the sleep off. "Alright, sure. I won't ask how you got here. What's up?"

"So you finally know what's good for you, huh?" That mischievous smirk always seems to find it's way to Scara's face. Before, it would make Aether's skin crawl. Now, he regards it with a fond exasperation. "You're coming with me."

Aether isn't a stranger to being dragged along with whoever decides they want his company, but hearing it from Scara almost gives him whiplash. He dramatically sighs, but he doesn't plan to decline. "Sure, but..." He looks back at the tent, and his many, many irreplaceable things (his bag, a bit of food he'd bought from the markets in Liyue- All that's really irreplaceable there is Paimon.) "It'll take a while for me to pack all of this up."

Paimon pipes in, helpful for once. "Paimon will watch the tent!" She pushes Aether further from the tent, giggling. "Go! Don't leave me for too long, okay?"

Ruffling her hair, Aether grins at her. She bats at his hands, but smiles anyway. "Thanks, Paimon. Where to?"

... ◇ 》

They've been wandering forever. Sure, Aether is a traveler, but he and Paimon take their time. They like to take breaks, despite the fact that he's never even seen paimon use her legs to tire them out.

But apparently, Scara can speedwalk as he sees fit and just doesn't stop.

"Speed it up, slowpoke. I don't have time for you to take forever." Scara turns around, finally stopping in his tracks.

"Scara, hold on!" Aether pants, running his hands through his hair. "Why don't we... Take a break for a minute?"

Scara glares.

Aether puts up his best puppy eyes.

Nobody can resist, not even Scara. He scoffs, but doesn't disagree.

"Fine. Come on."

Scara leads Aether to a lake just a few feet away from them. He sits on the grass, but Aether takes a different approach. He undoes his braid and runs his fingers through long, blonde strands before lowering himself into the water.

It's cold, but he's used to it. Dragonspine had prepared him for any and all cold temperatures long ago.

"What are you doing? I hope you know that you'll have to walk around like a wet dog after this." Scara sneers, but Aether just grins.

"Fine with me!" He knows he might get a cold, but Tighnari is always available for things like that. Baizhu or Qiqi at Bubu Pharmacy as well. He's always well taken care of. "Why don't you come in as well?"

"Eugh, no way. I don't want to get wet, much less sit in that lake with you of all people." He says, turning his nose up.

"Alright. You've offended me for the last time. You're getting in." He climbs out of the water and grabs Scara's arm. Scara tries to shake him off, but it's known well that Aether is a whole lot physically stronger than he looks.

"Get your filthy hands off of me!"

"No way! You hurt my feelings, Scara, you have to make up for it."

"I don't have to make up for anything, you're vile scum! Get off, you'll get me wet!"

Trying to drag Scara in with him, Aether grabs at his sleeves but misses and grabs his side instead. The shriek that comes after has both of them silent and unmoving.

Aether grins evilly.

"Hey, Scara..."

"No!" Scara smacks Aether's hand away from him and scrambles to move away, but Aether's already grabbed his leg and pulled him back before he can stand.

"Scara..~" He says in a teasing, sing-song like voice and Scara pushes his face away with one hand and tries desperately to shove him with the other. "I know what that was, Scara. You can't hide from me..."

"No! Get away from me!" Scara kicks his legs as violently as possible, but Aether is strong and fast and has straddled him before he can even process what happened.

And then Aether shoves his hands underneath the layers of his clothes and they did nothing to protect him in the first place.

"Any last words?"

"I'll kill you!"

Aether rolls his eyes at the empty threat. "I'm sure you will." He squeezes at Scara's sides, and the reaction is immediate.

"NO! I'll seriously kill you- AAGH, STOP!" Scara slams his arms down to his sides, but that does nothing except make the unbearably ticklish feeling worse. He's already cackling, and in an attempt to save his little remaining dignity he tries to shove Aether away. "S-Stohop! Trahaveler- You ahahare soho dead!"

"Ehehe. Look how cute you look! Aww, are you blushing?" Aether completely ignores those threats in favor of saying things he knows will provoke Scara further. He pushes up Scara's shirt and uses all ten fingers to scratch at his lower stomach, cooing at him the whole time. "Awh, aren't you just the cutest lil thing?"

Scara grabs at Aether's wrist and uses all of his strength to push him off, but his effort is wasted. It seems Aether is so determined to tickle him to death that nothing could deter him and Scara hates him for it.

"Stop teheheasing mee!" It sounds like more of a whine than the demand he meant it to be, and combined with the giddy, ticklish feeling he's being forced to endure it makes him flush. He's so embarrassed, he wants the ground to swallow him up. He arches his back and fails as much as possible, but nothing he does lessens that feeling at all and he's going to kill that idiot traveler, he swears he will.

"How can I? Your laugh is just the cutest thing I've ever heard, I can't even," Aether laughs a bit too, hearing Scara laugh for any reason other than someone else's expense just makes him want to stay like this forever. He sounds so... Happy. His laugh is so bright and bouncy and at this point, Aether really can't help it. He lowers his hands to Scara's hips and starts squeezing.

Scara fully squeals and his squirming increases tenfold. "Nononono! Stop, stohohop! N-not there- Nnnhahahh-" He pushes at the ground and he almost squirms a little further away, but again Aether just pulls him back and keeps going. If this keeps up, he's going to actually drop dead before he can kill Aether for daring to do this to him. He just starts smacking where ever he can reach- Aether's arm, or his face, but he's already so weak that it has no effect. "MERCY!! Mercy!!"

It stops.

Aether, still grinning, moves off and sits next to Scara's panting form. "You okay?"

"I will kill you. I will make you wish you'd never been born. Do you understand what I'm saying to you, Traveler? I will end you." He's really just trying to compensate for the embarrassing pleading he'd just done, but if he died, how was he supposed to murder Aether as revenge?

"Right, right. Do you wanna get moving now?"

"No. Let me rest."

Aether smiles at Scara. His eyes are closed, and he looks incredibly pissed off. Aether will accept any form of revenge, because that was so worth it.

He'll make good use of that.

[spctrsgf]

bandages

summary: Poe’s gone for too long, and the worry is starting to gnaw at your brain. (part 9 of @/ham_zero (tt)’s HTS !)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: poe x medic!reader, language, mentions of death and blood, angst and then pure teeth rotting fluff

a/n: hello besties im back at it again with my fav flyboy and HTS! (yet another) big thanks to @roselement for proofing this monstrosity! anyways hope you guys are well

a/n pt 2: lol the gif literally has nothing to do with the story but it was the best i could do okay

“Y/n.”

The sound of Finn’s voice wasn’t enough to cut through the thick layer of worry that draped over you. You paced across your small office. Your mind displayed horrible scenarios, spiraling you into a deeper worry than you already were in.

The man shook his head, catching your shoulders and stopping your pacing. He waited as your glassed eyes flicked across the room before finally focusing on his face. You gaze studied his face for any indication of why he was here, because as of right now, you were denying the gnawing feeling that was sending you into a frenzy.

Poe wasn’t- he’s fine, right? That was the question that occupied every thought you had, shaking you down to the core and preventing you from doing anything else but worry.

And oh Maker, Finn could see it in your face. The bags under your normally bright eyes, the grim line that resembled your lips, the way your eyebrows pulled together and created a wrinkle on your forehead. Even your stance with him, one of your closest friends, was defensive.

“Finn?” Your voice was gravelly from crying and not speaking, your eyes weary but hopeful.

The man sighed, dropping his arms. “I’m sorry, still nothing.”

You swallowed sharply. “Okay.”

“Y/n-“

“It’s fine! Don’t say sorry, I’m okay.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Mhm.”

“What?” Your tone now matched your stance as you stepped back.

“You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. No, years.”

You sighed, plopping down on the bed made for patients. “I feel like I haven’t. Really it’s only been a few days.”

Finn gingerly placed himself next to you, resisting the urge to succumb to the same sadness. “I know it’s hard, but he wouldn’t want you to worry.”

You scoffed. “If that was his wish, then he’d be back by now.”

“He’s gonna be okay.”

“Is he?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you voiced your fear.

“I don’t know for sure, but,” you glanced at Finn, ready to hear his uplifting words. “This is Poe we’re talking about here. Poe Dameron. He’s a good man and an even better pilot. He’s the best of the best, and he hasn’t let us down yet. Let’s not give up hope on our flyboy now, okay?”

You nodded silently. “Ill give him one more day. Then-“

Finn wrapped an arm around you, scooting closer. “Don’t go there.”

You bit your lip. “Okay.”

Finn turned to look at you, eyes downcast and hands wrapped tightly around one another, but he could see the sad smile blooming on your lips. “You need to sleep, y/n.”

You ignored his earlier comment, only offering a “Thank you, Finn.”

The said man’s eyebrows knitted. “For what?”

“For always being there,” you looked at him. “For cheering me up when I feel like I’m gonna lose him forever.”

Finn smiled. “Anytime.”

——

You woke to a beeping sound, causing you to jolt and shoot upwards. Your head swiveled violently as you assessed your surroundings. You vaguely remember Finn leaving, demanding you to go to sleep.

Huh. You must’ve fallen asleep.

You cheered happily, over the moon for a grand total of five seconds, which is when you remembered three things. One, you weren’t able to sleep because Poe was gone. Two, you’d slept for ten hours. Three, that really loud and annoying ringing was the emergency bell. Someone was coming in for help.

You shot up, gathering your medical tools and readying yourself for immediate action. The shouts from outside got louder, and you winced at the ferocity of Snap’s worried voice. And then the door was shoved open and the entire Black squadron was crowding into your office, Snap carrying the wounded person. You looked down and-

No.

No, no no no no no-

You swallowed your scream and instructed Snap to place him down. Tears dotted your vision as you bent over your boyfriends bleeding face. You assessed him immediately, shoving your worry out of your head and focusing on helping him. You cried softly as you trailed your hands down his body gingerly, testing for anything out of the ordinary.

You let out a heavy sigh as you decided that it was mostly cuts and bruises, no punctured kidneys or internal bleeding. You got the medical assistant droid you had to scan him to make sure before turning and telling the squadron the news.

“He’s got a shit ton of cuts, as you can see. He’s taken some damage, but everything will heal and he’ll be able to fly again.” You smiled at the sighs of relief from the pilots.

“How long till he’s back?” Karé questioned from behind some heads.

“I would say a few days? I got some bacta that Leia wants me to use.” You answered as per BB-8’s frantic beeping.

The squadron filed out after that, but Snap faltered at the door. “L/n?”

You looked up from where you were applying bacta to a deep cut on Poe’s lower abdomen. “Mhm?”

“Thank you.”

You smiled grimly. “It’s my job.”

“No, it’s more than just a job. You’re saving our best pilot, but also our leader and friend. Thank you for that.”

You nodded. “Anytime. And I mean that. I don’t care if it’s 3am. Come to me if he’s hurt.”

It was Snap’s turn to smile. “I promise.”

You returned to the task at hand, spraying the bacta onto the rest of his cut. Your eyebrows were pulled up and your gaze flickered over the half unzipped flight suit, watching his chest rise and fall.

He’s okay, You told yourself. He’s okay, he’s alive, he’s breathing.

But he wasn’t awake. And that’s what was really worrying you. It was that little part of your brain saying that he might never wake up.

——

You spun in your chair to face Poe for what felt like the millionth time, constantly making sure his chest rose and fell. You turned back to finish a bland report, eyes droopy and tired. Exasperated, you threw down the data pad and walked over to the pilot.

It was then that you realized his hands up close. You winced at the dried blood around the knuckles, supposedly from when the glass window of his x-wing had shattered. Grabbing gauze and some wet wipes, you picked up his right hand, gingerly wiping it down.

To your surprise, Poe grumbled drowsily, trying to yank his hand back into his chest. Your grip tightened, but the rest of your body froze. “Poe?” You said quietly, eyes wide. Your voice must’ve triggered something in him, because he shot upwards. Or he tried to, but was held down by your firm push on his chest.

“Y/n?” He responded, voice as gravelly as yours was but oh so familiar, wrapping you in a blanket.

“Oh thank the Maker.” You dropped his hand and scooted closer, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You sound relieved.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling away. “I thought you were dead.”

“You have such little faith in my ability to not die.” He cracked a half grin.

“Poe! Not funny.”

“Alright, I’m sorry.”

“You better be.” You huffed, picking his hand back up and cleaning the last of the blood.

He winced. “That hurts.”

You let out a small chuckle. “It’s antiseptic, it’s gonna sting a bit.”

“Well, don’t you have some sort of magical medic shit that helps the pain go away?”

You grabbed his other hand, wiping away the blood with a smile. “It’s barely anything and I’ll be done in like ten seconds. Relax.”

“C’mon sweets, gimme some numbing agent.” His eyes pulled into a plead.

You chortled, placing a kiss in between his brows. “I’m done, silly.”

“Oh,” Poe looked down at his now clean hands. “Never mind then.”

You held up the gauze. “Last step!”

Poe groaned. “You said you were done.”

You sent him a smirk. “And here I was thinking you liked jokes.”

“You suck.”

“You love me.”

Poe fell silent after your sentence, and you focused on wrapping his hands, unaware that you said something… big. You hummed a tune you’d been introduced to by Finn, scooting closer to Poe’s face to place his arm in a more comfortable position.

Meanwhile, Poe watched you intently. He admired the careful precision your deft fingers practiced as you wrapped the gauze, always tying it just tight enough to be snug but not cut off his circulation. Your eyes were bright and happy, but he could see the bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. He internally cursed himself for putting you through that dreadful downward spiral of worry.

He stared and stared, watching your eyelashes flutter and the oh so soft touch of your fingers on his skin. Oh Maker, he missed you so much. The close attention from you wasn’t new, but it felt so different now that he knew that you worried about him, couldn’t sleep while he was gone.

He wasn’t used to care. Sure, he had Leia, but she was like a mother and he saw her extend the same curtsies to others she’d picked up from various places. He appreciated it all, but it wasn’t exclusive to him.

But you. You only did this to him. He’d watched you work, because it was mesmerizing and he took any time he could to be with you. The worry and the insomnia and the intense care and the special gauze? That was secluded to him and him only. And the bacta. You hadn’t told him, but he could see the way the skin on his lower abdomen was healing unnaturally quick. The pure love that you gave him was something he didn’t feel worthy of and he didn’t see what you saw in him, but it was making him flustered nonetheless.

Maker.

He was flustered? Poe couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt like this. The thought only made his face redder, and he resisted the urge to bring his free hand up to cover his hot face.

And so when you finished wrapping his hand and looked up, you were met with Poe’s red face and his eyes darting anywhere but your own face. You furrowed your eyebrows, unaware that he was ruffled.

Your eyes widened sharply and your hands flew to his face. “Poe?” Your tone was laced with so much worry that his face only became redder. “What’s going on? Are you okay? Do you have a fever?”

He kept his eyes looking outward, becoming slightly glassy with his lack of blinking. You brushed back the curls from his forehead, touching the back of your hand to it. “No fever, but his eyes are glassy,” you racked your brain for a solution. “What the hell is going on?”

Poe made the mistake of meeting your eyes, full and worried but as bright as ever. His hands covered his face in flash and he groaned.

You frowned. “Poe?”

“Mmm.” Came his muffled response as his legs curled up.

“What’s going on? Are you hot? I can turn down the thermostat-“

Poe realized then that he was causing you more worry and was just gonna make it worse, so he dropped his knees and grabbed your face in one fluid motion. You squeaked in surprise, nearly falling into his chest but catching yourself just in time, leading you to have one arm on either side of his body. “Huh?” You murmured as he tilted his forehead to yours.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” The worry was evident in your tone.

“Yeah,” he took a deep breath. “You just make me overwhelmed sometimes.”

The pieces clicked, flushing your cheeks immediately. He was red because you made him flustered. Poe Dameron, flustered? It was hard to wrap your head around. You were having even more trouble comprehending that you did it. You. Your mind raked over what you possibly could have done to make him flustered, but it wasn’t working properly after that confession. The lack of sleep you had gotten in the past few days didn’t help either.

“I did that?” You motioned to his face.

“Yeah?” He shrugged to play off the nervousness undertone.

“Wha- how?” You voiced your thoughts timidly.

“I don’t really know,” he mumbled, full of lies. “You just- you care so much. It’s new for me.”

You pulled away from him, frustrated at what he felt. “You’re the most caring person I’ve ever met. Poe, you always always try to help everyone before yourself, you’re willing to take a risk if it meant saving something in the long run. You are such a confident leader, which is admirable in itself. But then you have to go and add on the fact that you know your way around any type of ship, not to mention your the best pilot the resistance has, you can both fly and fix your ship, and you still find time between all of the things you have to do to make time to meet and get to know everyone on this base? That’s insane, and we all care about you so much. I care about you so much. This,” you motioned to his arm. “Is the least I can do to thank you.”

Poe stared at you, wide eyed. “You really believe that?”

You smiled earnestly. “Of course.”

His eyes softened even more and he raised a bandaged hand to caress your cheek. “I love you too.”

You frowned. “You-“

He nodded.

You grinned brighter than he’d ever seen. “I love you three.”

[medusapelagia]

8 AU-gust: Robots and Androids- part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 [...]

This is not the right day to post, but I need to cheer myself up so I'm going to post something anyway!

Hope you enjoy it!

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: Android Steve Harrington, Wanted Criminal Eddie Munson, mention of terroristic attack Words: 2179

Joyce keeps looking at his vitals and then she says “He seems quite special.”

“Who?”

“Stevie.”

“He’s just a piece of junk. Like all the androids.”

“He is not. And I think you noticed too.”

“He has a fucking code and he follows it.”

“He has more than just a code. He makes decisions, he shows emotions. He is really special. Our engineer is already in love with him.”

That he can believe.

The android is the most beautiful boy he has ever seen and he doesn’t understand why they were discontinued or why they were used in fights and not as human companions, but that’s not his problem.

His problem is finding a way to escape. And a way to fly far away from that stupid planet.

“When can I leave?”

“We have no ship to spare if that’s what you are thinking and I will not let them come here to rescue you.”

Them.

So he was right. She joined the resistance and then decided to leave.

Coward.

“You have a very expressive face, Eddie. Do you know that? I see that you are making conjectures about me,  but I’m not going to be judged by a boy who knows nothing about real life.”

How could she say that he knows nothing about real life? He? With his past? Fuck you, lady doctor!

“You know nothing about me! Why are you making assumptions about my life?”

“Because that’s exactly what you are doing about mine.”

A metallic sound stops their conversation, and Stevie enters the infirmary with a big man almost ready to faint.

“Jim! I told you not to go! What the fuck! I should slap you in the face, and don’t think I’ll not do it as soon as you feel better!” she scolds him, helping him sit on a chair and giving him some water.

“I shield him from the sun as much as I can, but the temperatures are prohibitive on this planet.” He pauses, helping the man “You should think about moving to a more suitable environment.”

“We fucking know. That’s why we wore a thermal suit when we got outside. But it wasn’t enough.” The man replies angrily and it definitely wasn’t enough. The man is covered in sweat, his face is red and tired. 

“What about you, metal boy? Doc here told me you were broken but it seems to me that you are quite functioning.”

“I’m not broken.” That's all that he says, but Eddie sees that on his back he has some metal plates missing and others that do not match.

“Glad to see that you are getting better.” The android says studying him “Your water levels are almost back to normal. A few days and you’ll be ready to travel.”

“I’m not looking forward to the idea of traveling with you, metal boy. Sorry.”

The android nods “I know.”

Eddie looks at the android. He has no fucking emotion. How can they say that he has some?

He is a stupid robot. Nothing more.

“He saved your life. At least two times. You could be more grateful.” Joyce scolds him and both Eddie and S.T.E.V.E. reply at the same time.

“It’s in my code.”

“It’s in his code.”

They look at each other.

When he was young and he happened to say something at the same time as Wayne, they usually pinch each other.

Why the fuck is he thinking about that now?

“I don’t see the point. He saved my life just to bring me back to the Central station where they will sentence me to death.”

“You don’t know that.” The android replies.

“Oh, I know that. You don’t put a price on someone’s head just to invite them to dinner. And you said to these people that I’m a murderer, so you don’t think that they are going to slap me on the wrist either.”

The android stays in silence, his brown eyes looking back at him.

“Did you get other damages?” he suddenly asks.

“I’m fine. The boy put some metal plates on my back so I should be ok. The ship is in far worse condition than I am but I think I can repair it enough to get us to the next planet and call for help.”

“Why call for help from another planet?” Eddie asks, confused.

The android turns toward him and for a moment Eddie can see something behind his plastic eyes “Because they don’t want people on their land. I understand that. And they were kind enough to take care of both of us. The only thing that I can do to thank them for their kindness it’s not to bring them other problems. Don’t you agree?”

And it makes sense.

It makes fucking sense.

But he is an android. He is just using logic. Not feelings. He has no feelings.

Joyce is looking at Eddie with a knowing look.

“I told you.”

The android turns toward her “What did you tell him?”

“That you are special Stevie.”

“I’m just one of the few models left. That doesn’t mean that I’m special. Your kid is special. Thirteen years old and have a complete understanding of mechanics and robotics. You must be very proud.”

“Oh, Dustin is not my son, but we love him as if he were.”

“Is he… an orphan?” Eddie asks with a lump in his throat. God, it doesn’t matter how long has passed, that word still burns in his heart.

“No, he is not. Claudia, his mom, is staying at the other outpost these days. She is trying to make it rain.” Both Eddie and the android look at her “I know, it sounds crazy, but her husband and her are working on a system to bring the clouds together even without winds. And it’s working. The only problem is that we still can’t send them where they are needed the most. But I’m sure they will come up with something.” She smiles, looking at the man on the chair “Are you feeling any better?”

After some water and back to the freshness of the infirmary he looks so much better.

“I do.” He replies “I brought the radio back but I don’t think that even Dustin will manage to adjust it.”

“It’s not a problem.” The android intervenes “As I told you, I’m not going to call for help from your planet. I just need to get to the next one and…”

Eddie has to leave the fucking planet and he has to do it soon. He could fly almost everything. He just needs the right occasion.

When the android gets up he notices that he is… bleeding?

“What the fuck? Is that blood?”

S.T.E.V.E. looks down at the red liquid.

“I’m leaking. Again.”

“It’s… red?” Eddie asks again and the android nods.

“Dustin put some kind of coloring in my tank to see where I was leaking. I must have damaged myself getting back from the desert.”

Eddie keeps repeating to himself that he is not a bleeding man. He is an android who is leaking some kind of liquid, but the red seems so close to blood and it brings back so many bad memories.

“Maybe you should go see Dustin again.” Joyce suggests, but the android shakes his head.

“It’s late, and he is just a kid. He should rest.”

“But you are leaking…”

“It’s just the refrigerating liquid. We are not outside anymore, I'll be fine.” Then he looks around the room “I just need some time to recharge my battery. It was damaged in the crash and I think it’s getting lower faster than usual.”

Eddie looks at the android. He has killed androids before. He has cut their heads and smashed them on the ground. He has made them explode. Still, the idea that he somehow hurt this one makes him sick to his stomach.

“Are you going to be ok? Are you sure?” Joyce asks again and the android nods.

“I’ll be ok. And even if I will not it will be better for you. Less problem for you. And Dustin told me I would be a ‘hell of a lawn mower’” he replies smiling.

That fucking piece of metal just smiled and Eddie's heart jumps in his stomach.

Androids don’t smile.

Androids don’t make jokes.

Androids have no fucking emotions.

Androids… maybe Joyce is right. This android is definitely something special. Or maybe it’s broken. Maybe he hit his head in the crash and something is deeply damaged inside his head.

In any case, he doesn’t like it.

“What about being identifiable?” Eddie asks and S.T.E.V.E. turns toward him.

“I’m an android. Anyone here knows that.”

He does, but there is something really strange about this particular android.

“What did you tell them?” Eddie asks from his bed “I’m no murderer.”

“Your wanted poster states the contrary.” He touches the side of his head and from his eyes comes out a beam of light that transforms into a poster with his face. Wanted dead or alive.

He has done many things he is not proud of. But the one that hurt the most, the one that definitely put a price on his head wasn’t really his fault.

“I didn’t kill them.”

“You put a bomb during a sports event.”

He did. And he didn’t.

They put the bomb, that’s true, but not under the bleachers. They put it far from the human entrance but close to the place where the androids were stationed, just outside of the stadium’s perimeter. 

Someone moved the bomb.

Someone moved the bomb and killed two hundred people.

And Chrissy.

She was a cheerleader for the local team.

She was the one who told them about the event and suggested where to put the bomb. 

He should have never agreed to put the bomb so close to the girl.

Or to other humans.

He has no proof but he knows deep in his heart that it was fucking Vecna.

He has seen him on television, after the explosion. Perfectly fine with his white uniform in pristine condition. While humans were crying and screaming he was giving an interview, talking about the level of security of the galaxy. Talking shit about them. Talking shit about Eddie.

“I didn’t kill anyone.” He replies “I never killed a human in my entire life!”

A human. 

Androids? 

Thousands. 

But is it killing if they are not even alive?

The android turns off the light and turns toward him.

“My dispatch contains information that says the contrary.” S.T.E.V.E. repeats.

“Your dispatch is fake. I didn’t kill Chrissy. I would have never hurt her. And he knew it. He knew that I cared about her! Deeply! That’s why he did it! Fucking Vecna!” he yells and the android looks at him.

“Chrissy Cunningham?” he asks.

How the fuck does he know?

“I did a quick research on the victims of the explosion while you were talking.” He replies, and then some smoke starts to leak out from his left ear.

“Stevie? Your ear…” he tries to tell him, but before he can finish his phrase the android falls to the ground with a loud thud.

What the fuck is happening?

“Is he… broken?” Eddie asks, trying to get up from the bed but still too weak for that.

“I don’t fucking know.” The man replies, then he looks at the woman “What do we do?”

“Call Dustin. Now.” She replies, getting closer to the android and trying to take his head into his arms.

“He is too hot. I can’t touch him.”

“Do you think he is going to explode? We should bring him outside in case…”

“No.” A little girl appeared from nowhere says “We must help him.” She states and the two adults look at her with concern.

“Sweetie, he is an old model and was damaged during the crash of his ship…”

“Help him, dad.” The little girl asks and the man sighs.

“Joyce. Call Dustin.”

The woman leaves the room and comes back soon with a boy in pajamas.

“What the fuck did you do to him, Hop!”

“I did nothing at all! He was showing us a wanted poster and suddenly some smoke got out from his ear and he collapsed.”

“It’s the fucking battery. It’s too old. When he tried to charge it has overloaded. I have to change it.”

“He doesn’t want that.” The man reminds him.

“He doesn’t want to die either.”

Eddie intervenes “He is an android! He doesn’t even know what being dead means! It’s probably just an abstract concept to him. The real question it’s: is it going to explode? He was leaking cooling liquid and Joyce said that he was too hot to touch. I’m quite sure he is almost a bomb right now.”

Dustin looks at him surprised, "What do you know about robotics and mechanics?”

He knows enough to know that the android is a ticking bomb.

Tag list: @shunna, @yourmom-isgay I hope you enjoy it!

[ejunkiet]

Hi! You know I can't resist your requests... But!! I see you're looking to generate creativity to move your original work forward, so feel free to just let this prompt get you thinking but don't actually write a single word. (Sometimes that helps!)

undone for Milo/Sweetheart?

>:3 I took this prompt & mixed it with a request from @glassbearclock for early days milo/sh and a sick milo. ENJOY <3

redacted audio: milo/sweetheart, rated teen, short & sweet.

READ ON AO3

“I don’t need ya to be my nursemaid, sweetheart.”

--

“I don’t need ya to be my nursemaid, sweetheart. I’m fine.” His voice is even deeper than usual, almost a growl down the line, and while they like the effect, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s very obviously sick.

Sick as a dog, you might say - pun intended. “You don’t sound fine, loverboy.”

“It’s nothing, really. I’ll-” He’s cut off by a wracking cough, loud and painful enough that he has to pull away from the line, covering the mouthpiece. They wait for him to pick up the phone again, fingers tapping against the side of their leg, their concern growing the longer it goes on, and shit.

When he comes back on the line, his voice sounds wrecked, rasping at the edges, as if he’s coming undone. “I’ll be fine, just gotta sleep this off.”

“Try telling me that again, without sounding as if you’re about to choke to death.” 

He snorts, not fighting them on that, but they don’t take any pleasure in it as he pulls away from the phone to cough again, the sound edged with a miserable whine. 

“Look, you sound awful. You got anyone there with you, from the pack?”

He scoffs. “Nah. I don’t want any of ‘em to catch it. ‘Sides, it’ll get through my system soon enough.”

Mouth twisting, they glance over at the clock in the corner. It was still too early for them to sign off, but there was a chance that they could take the rest of their work home with them. They’ve been stuck on paperwork duty for the day, anyway.

Sticking the phone between their cheek and shoulder, they open their work messaging app, drafting out a quick message to their line manager.

“I didn’t think wolves got sick,” they say to make conversation as they wait for a response, fingers tapping against the mouse pad. It’s been a while since their healing classes at D.A.M.N, but they’d remembered that note from one of their anatomy lectures.

(They hadn’t achieved full certification for nothing.)

Milo snorts again, a wet sound that somehow also manages to sound stuffy. “We do. It’s just not as common. We get the flu every now and then. I reckon Ash was down with it last week.”

The facts click into place, and right. He’d mentioned that Asher had been sick, meaning that David had to take the lead on the job he was meant to be running. Milo had spent the entire evening in the kitchen at his alpha’s request, preparing meals for the ‘sad sack who can’t cook anything’.

And then Ash had given his flu to him. Figures. One good turn deserves another, and all that.

The message notification on their computer screen dings, and they glance over to see that their remote working request had been approved, and good.

“I’m coming over,” they say instead of pointing out the fact that Asher is absolutely the reason why he’s sick right now, smiling at the way he sputters. “You need someone to take care of you, and if your pack isn’t gonna step up, then I guess I’ll have to.”

He lets that sit for a long moment, and they pause, uncertainty crowding their thoughts. “Unless you really don’t want me to-”

“No, it’s- it’s not that.” He huffs out a laugh that sounds more like a croak, and they make a note to pick up ingredients for ginger tea, with plenty of honey. “Just… you’re too good to me, sweetheart.”

They smile at that, warmth curling inside their chest. The big softie. “I know.”

Signing out of their work accounts, they take their laptop and slip on their jacket, making their way out of the office. They’ll make a stop at the market, pick up a carton of that cream of tomato soup he likes, as well as some fresh ginger and honey, and any other supplies they can think of along the way.

“I’ll be there soon. We can watch that show we’ve been talking about, with all the murder.”

“Murder on a weekday? You sure know how to woo a guy.” He huffs out a soft laugh, and it’s the best he’s sounded since they first called him from the office. “I’ll see you soon.”

[casinotrio1965]

Western Disney AU: At the Stables by friend Levi

Being in the Wild West only meant adventure, or that's what someone would assume. Gunslingers and all sorts, but not in this little town. The folk there were far too friendly, though that never stopped chaos from brewing.

The sun peeked in through the windows and onto Lampwick's drooling face, snoring away without worries. Suddenly, a little girl barged in with an irritated expression. He was supposed to get up earlier to help his sister with the chores while their mother was busy. Unfortunately, he had no plans of getting up any time soon.

"Hey! Lampwick!" she yelled.

He jolted awake and looked around in alarm.

"Huh..? Is there school today?" he'd yawn.

"No, you big oaf! You were meant to be getting the groceries by now!"

He'd scratch his head before snapping his fingers.

"My bad! I totally forgot!"

Rushing to get dressed, he ran around to get some bread for his breakfast and a basket to place all the shopping. Before anyone could complain, he was already out the door. On his way to town, he recognised some familiar faces that were already up and about. The townsfolk tended to their business in the distance, but he easily got sidetracked, changing course to stop by the horses at the stable nearby. He couldn’t resist the urge to bother them.

Waiting for him on his path was a pretty girl from the native tribe that they often did trades with. She glanced around as she kicked a pebble, huffing impatiently as if she was waiting for someone. He was surprised she was wandering about like this, but was pleased to see her.

"Tigerlily! Great day for mischief, right?" he called out with a snicker.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head with a giggle.

"You on your way to bother the horses again? One of these days they're gonna knock you out!" she exclaimed back.

He approached her, grinning as he usually does.

"What're you doing around here? Did ya miss me or something?"

Her cheeks turned slightly pink at the comment, rolling her eyes despite the fact he was right. But she wasn't going to admit that. He'd tease her for the rest of her life.

“In your dreams!” she’d scoff. “I’m only here to wait for Peter and then I’m going to pick up a few things for my dad. The usual checkup on our trades and stuff.”

He cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms with a playful chuckle.

“How heartbreaking. Thought you actually wanted to see me.”

“If you keep saying that, I’ll assume that you’re the one who’s seeking me out.”

He’d raise his hands to surrender, running out of retorts to throw her way.

“Fine fine. I’ll stop teasing ya.”

The pair shared a familiar warm smile with each other. They had been friends for a while, when Lampwick’s mother, Carina, would visit the friends she had made as a saloon girl in the past. The two troublemakers would often mess around and crack jokes, often bothering the adults around them with their antics.

“Anyways, where is Peter? Doesn’t he come to look at the stables around this time?” Lampwick inquired.

“He asked me to get him a wooden practice gun, and I was hoping to see him to discuss more details about it. But I’m getting bored sticking around here”, Tigerlily would sigh before the auburn haired boy nudges her.

“Let’s go have some fun! We can put our duties on hold for a little bit. Nobody will know!”

“Hmmm… I don’t know… You said that last time and my dad ended up lecturing me for an entire hour once I got back home.”

“Come on! We can get groceries for me and do your trade stuff while we roam around. I’ve been itching to do something entertaining”, he grinned, which was enough to sway her into playing along with his plan.

“Alright, you’ve got me convinced. What type of shenanigans did you have in mind?”

He’d wrap his arm around Tigerlily, making her heart skip a beat from the sudden closeness. Of course, he was too oblivious to notice how flustered she was, and she was rather good at pretending she wasn’t.

He started dragging her to the stable of one of the most ferocious horses… Tinkerbell. She was infamous for her stubbornness, driving away any potential buyers. Despite that, it was said this Arabian mare could run so fast it was like she could fly, much like a fairy. Though she had often thrown her riders off her back whenever she was irritated, making her rather dangerous. Tigerlily’s eyes widened in disbelief and looked at him with a mix of concern and intrigue.

“Isn’t this that horse that Peter wanted to get for himself?” she asked.

“It is in fact that horse. I’ve no interest in getting one as you already know. But… We can have a bit of a bet while nobody is looking.”

“What sort of bet?”

He’d check the area and his surroundings, to ensure they won’t be caught. He knew he’d get grounded if his mother found out about this. In the corner was a block of hay to feed the horses, and he hastily took two handfuls of it before placing some in Tigerlily’s hand.

“I bet Tinkerbell will accept my hay!” he exclaimed.

She smirked at his cockiness and held her head high.

“I see how it is. Well, I bet she’ll accept mine first!”

“Oh really? Then how about this. Loser has to eat hay like a horse.”

“You’re on!”

The two fist bumped to solidify this deal before turning back to the uninterested mare. Lampwick fearlessly stepped forward with a confident beaming smile and shoved the clump of dried grass towards her snout. Tinkerbell snorted and sniffed him, but she didn’t dare take a bite. It’s as if she knew he was up to no good. She simply turned her back on him, swishing her tail around almost sassily.

“Doesn’t look like your smile charmed her at all”, Tigerlily teased.

That simple statement was enough to fuel his competitive behaviour. He stuck his hand into her stable, trying desperately to get her attention.

“Hello!? C’mon, Tinkerbell! Don’t be like this! I don’t wanna eat this straw!” he begged.

All the ruckus aggravated her, causing her to neigh loudly which alarmed them. She spun around and snapped at Lampwick, causing him to yelp and fall onto his behind. He groaned in pain as his companion howled with laughter.

“Haha very funny”, he scowled.

Feeling gratified, what worry Tigerlily had washed away. She calmly and carefully presented the hay to an upset Tinkerbell, awaiting what she’d do. At first, the mare was sceptical, glaring at the petite native girl. But she sensed her sincerity, and she was rather peckish. She slowly extended her neck and took a nibble of the hay, then she turned her back to them again. Lampwick’s mouth went agape, unable to process the fact he just lost.

“What!? How!?”

Tigerlily cackled and clapped in amusement. She dumped the hay onto his lap and crossed her arms.

“Eat up. You must be hungry.”

He grimaced, reluctantly picking up a strand and let it hover in front of his lips. He closed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, shoving it in his mouth and swallowing as fast as he could. The taste was ghastly, like the driest leaves in the world with a strong aftertaste of soil. It made him gag, and the regret had him wishing he just left for the groceries.

The End

[sholiofic]

… wingfic where Zemo is fastidious about keeping them tidy and neat even on the Raft, but when he badly breaks his wrist on a parole mission it gradually becomes clear he can’t groom them now without his left arm: he’s no longer sleek and well-kept, there’s loose feathers sticking out everywhere when his coat slips, and it doesn’t look comfortable at ALL. But letting Sam and/or Bucky help? That’s a whole other Issue.

"Hey," Sam said, as Zemo tried to reach over his shoulder and stuff his wings back under his coat. "You're not supposed to be moving that wrist."

Zemo didn't actually answer in words, but his expression said I do what I want more clearly than words would have anyway. His expression also said Ow. Sam watched him struggle for another moment before he cracked. 

"Do you want some help with that?"

"I'm fine," Zemo said.

That was, in general, his answer to everything. 

"You dropped something," Bucky called brightly from the kitchen, pointing to a feather on the floor.

Zemo's answer to that was the sort of noise a wet cat might have made.

*

The care that Zemo took with his wings was meticulous. Although Sam's initial curiosity about his wings had never entirely worn off, over time both Sam and Bucky had gone from being curious and interested, to mainly just annoyed. Zemo would almost certainly have been a bathroom hog even without the wings, he was just that type of person, but the wings took it to the point of absolute absurdity. He spent hours meticulously combing, smoothing, and oiling them—at least Sam assumed that's what he was doing in there. His wing-care oils and combs and perfumes took up the entire bathroom cabinet wherever they went and left no room for anyone else's toothbrush. And all of this just to tuck his wings under his coat most of the time.

Having one wrist out of commission had also put his daily wing-care regiment out of whack. This was funny at first, but increasingly less so as he got snappier about it, and his wings got scruffier. Sam was beginning to realize that the all-day wing care was as much necessity as vanity. Okay, vanity was definitely part of it. But it was obvious that without being constantly taken care of, his wings started to develop scruffy patches and out-of-place feathers.

"Going somewhere?" Bucky asked. Zemo—sitting on the couch with his coat on—glared at him. 

Zemo had very nearly stopped taking his coat off indoors, which Sam suspected was partly embarrassment about the state of his wings and partly just that he had a lot of trouble getting the wings tucked into their usual positions if he took it off.

There were times to be cautious and circumspect, and times to bull ahead straight through. 

Sam had never been accused of not being stubborn enough.

*

Zemo gave him a look of wary unease when Sam sat beside him on the couch with a towel, a couple of bottles, and one of Zemo's oversized wing combs, all of them swiped from Zemo's prodigious bathroom stash.

"Have you been in my things?" Zemo said.

"Yes," Sam said. Bucky, in the kitchen, was clearly listening in fascination; if he could have sprouted a giant ear like a cartoon character, he would have done so. 

"I don't need help," Zemo said tightly.

"Look, man, you're getting feathers everywhere, and it's annoying. Bucky can't spend all day sweeping up after you." 

There was a scoffing sound from the kitchen.

"Think of it as a necessary household chore that you can't do one-handed," Sam added. "So one of us can step in for a bit."

Zemo regarded him with one of his weird hard-to-read expressions. Then, abruptly, he shoved back the tail of his coat and began to struggle out of it. "For necessary household reasons," he said.

"Of course," Sam said, firmly resisting helping him with the coat.

When Zemo got the coat off, Sam saw that the condition of his wings was even worse than he'd realized. Keeping them cooped up under the coat all the time probably wasn't a big help. They were dull and scruffy, and some of the feathers actually looked broken or out of kilter.

Sam carefully settled a hand on his wing. Zemo jerked a little.

"Hurt?" Sam said.

"No," Zemo said, his voice abrupt.

His feathers were softer than Sam had realized. Actually, the only thing Sam had to compare it to—a comparison he definitely did not plan to share with Zemo—was that it made him think of a neighbor of theirs who'd had chickens when he was a kid. The chickens were soft like this, a kind of cloudlike feathery softness, warm and alive.

He was never, ever telling Zemo that.

"I don't know exactly what to do," Sam admitted. "You might have to guide me a little."

Zemo still looked extremely off balance, but this at least got him back in his favorite mode: being a smug know-it-all. And it seemed to work. He relaxed a little as he showed Sam, as best he could one-handed, how to use the comb to separate the feathers and work in the oil.

It was steady, meticulous work, weirdly soothing, but what really caught Sam off guard was how much it seemed to relax Zemo to have his wings worked on. He seemed to be slowly melting into the couch, and didn't even do more than stir a little when Bucky wandered in, curiosity having become too much for him.

"Need some help?"

"Grab a comb and a wing," Sam said.

Zemo half opened his eyes at that, as if to object—but he didn't.

[atwas-meme-ing]

Forgive and Forget

I still haven't tried for a full character analysis, but I was thinking all day about Espio, and I realized... he HAD to save the flicky.

So, Espio honestly thought he was supposed to shoot Sonic with a blowdart, right? He's a ninja and a detective. He knows how blowdarts work. Heck, he may have even used one before. Even if he hasn't, they're not hard to use. You just have to be able to hit a target. Being a ninja, Espio probably has good aim (ninjas use shuriken, for example).

So, anyway, as I mentioned in an earlier post, Espio doesn't seem very social. He's highly intellectual, but a person can't fully understand how something works if he's never experienced it. He's probably not terribly familiar with party games. So when he received instructions saying to hit Sonic with a nonlethal blowdart, he thought he was supposed to follow thru. Oh, it's a nonlethal paralytic. He'll be fine, no big deal.

And then he proceeded to use his remarkable intellect to cover his tracks. And he did a really good job- except that Tails was too clever and figured him out.

I think we can all agree that Espio took his role a bit too seriously. Even going so far as to recite [really bad] poetry at the drop of a hat. (BTW, I want to add that Espio is not the only person at the party who was guilty of taking his role too far- I will have to cover Blaze's involvement in Rouge's heist in another post.)

Judging by Espio's expression, it seems that Amy's reaction is enough to make him begin to realize that maybe he took things a little too far, although he doesn't yet understand why, he thinks it was all just a game. After all, he only shot him with a sleep-inducing paralytic, he knew Sonic would be all right.

He didn't realize what was really going on, or that no one was supposed to get hurt, until after Sonic told everyone that the train was a badnik. Espio knows nothing about party games, he was just following instructions.

Can you imagine what was running through Espio's mind at this moment? Look at his face.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. I was only supposed to pretend, I wasn't supposed to hit him. Oh, my gosh... what if that thing had lied to me? What if that hadn't been just a paralytic?

He feels so bad. He's a ninja, he a criminal detective, he was a high-ranking Resistance leader in the war against Eggman, he's disciplined and well-trained and very intelligent, he's SUPPOSED to be one of the guys that STOPS evil. And yet he was conned by one of Eggman's robots, nearly killed one of his best friends, and nearly got them all killed or at least delivered to Eggman. He feels like he's become one of the criminals that he's supposed to bring to justice.

That's probably why he's so surprised when Sonic rescues him.

Now let's look at the final boss and the rescue of the flicky.

I couldn't figure out why they kept coming back to Tails' lore card and his character's ex-partner, the flicky.

It's because- are you ready for this?-

FROM A STORY PERSPECTIVE, THE FLICKY STORY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH EITHER TAILS OR THE MYSTERY GAME. IT WAS ALWAYS ABOUT ESPIO!

(Also, notice who's standing next to Tails in that picture, looking rather angry? It's Espio's detective partner and best friend, Vector.)

So when they saw the flicky powering the train:

Espio is the one who steps up and saves him.

Espio felt so bad about becoming Eggman's pawn that he felt like, maybe Sonic wouldn't want to save him. He felt like he'd betrayed everyone and he was the reason they almost all got killed. Saving this little bird was his redemption arc. He HAD to be the one to rescue the flicky, after all the trouble he'd caused.

At the end, Tails, Espio's accuser, is the one who congratulates Espio for rescuing the flicky. Amy has cooled off now that they've arrived safely and she acknowledges that Espio was just following what he thought were legitimate instructions. Sonic can't help ribbing Espio a little bit:

While Espio is able to joke a little, he still feels a little bad, even after having redeemed himself, and continues apologizing. Knowing Sonic, he probably started feeling a little uncomfortable with the continued apologies and decided it was time to let it go. "We're cool, and now that we're all safe, it was fun!" Espio is forgiven.

[aimeelouart]

How to get maximum chaos: Hey Asshole + CtS crossover.

You know I started in on that one and then promptly got sidelined by... The Adversary Fell, I think? Now there's an even more chaotic point in HA I can yeet him into, so this will probably go unwritten. Anyway, enjoy:

Cloud’s new armored outfit was great. Really⁠—it saved him so many injuries he otherwise would have had to deal with, considering a tee and a ratty cable-knit vest couldn’t exactly stop a blade. He was going to be forever grateful to Aerith and her...weird superpowered hivemind harem.

Wow. That was a weird sentence to think.

Anyway. His new armor was great and he loved it. Unfortunately it had limited utility when he was being noshed on by a huge...dragon...dinosaur thing. Something big with harder-than-steel scales and sharp teeth and a serious resistance to magic⁠, which wasn’t ideal. Extremely not ideal. He was not having a good time.

For once, Cloud was downright grateful to feel the white-hot static sear through his veins. For once, the universe was kind enough to yank him directly from the jaws of death.

Pun intended.

He was spat out upright and immediately reeled to the side, shoulder thumping into a hard wall. “That’s right, you better run,” he wheezed, raising a hand and wiping the mix of blood and monster saliva out of his eyes. His skin felt a little numb and his sight was blurred, which probably meant poison. He cast Poisona.

It did jack shit.

He banged his head against the concrete with a groan.

A handrail dug into his side. He could hear a few people—SOLDIERs, at a guess—nearby. Specifically, he could feel Sephiroth. He slid one boot to the side and found that was standing on some stairs. The Tower? A stairwell, somewhere.

“What—?”  said Hewley.

“Well now,” Rhapsodos purred. “What have we here? Cloud, is this your doing?”

“Is what my doing?” Cloud ground out automatically, unintentionally speaking in perfect synchrony with his counterpart in this new world. Whoops. Yeah, that had been a little fast for recognition, hadn’t it?

Rhapsodos made an interested noise. “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess!”

Cloud shifted around enough to squint through the increasing blur at the man. “You stop that,” he said, taking in the tangle of people. Zack, who was looming protectively around his counterpart, and Hewley and Rhapsodos, and Sephiroth on the side closest to Cloud.

“Wait. Cloud?” said Zack, looking back and forth between elder and younger.

“Yes, Zack,” Cloud sighed, frowning as he felt his legs start to go numb. Ugh. “Not your Cloud, from a different dimension, bouncing between worlds, will be gone in thirteen hours, et cetera et cetera.” Considering Poisona hadn’t done anything, he estimated five minutes to collapse. He wasn’t too worried this time—not with Zack there.

The stairwell erupted in noise.

“You’re me?” said the other Cloud.

“Different dimension?” Zack asked, aghast.

“Two of you, and both conscious no less!” said Rhapsodos, clapping his hands. “Marvelous!”

“How is that…?” Sephiroth muttered, trailing off.

“What happened to you? Are you alright?” Hewley asked, ever the most reasonable and responsible of the SOLDIERs.

Mmm, Angeal leftovers, Cloud thought, drooling. He’d run out of harem Angeal’s food three worlds ago, and mourned the loss. If he managed to not die he was gonna eat well.

“Poisoned,” Cloud said, waving a dismissive hand as he leaned harder into the wall. Involuntarily.

“…why did you say that so casually,” Hewley sighed, immediately moving to close the distance between them. Cloud let him, unbothered when the SOLDIER started looking him over, and offered a shrug to his inquiry.

“Cloud…” Zack said, soft and a little wounded, and…yeah okay, that made him feel a tiny bit bad about being so casual.

“It’s fine, Zack,” he lied as Hewley turned his face and looked at his eyes. Already, the man just looked like a tannish blur, surrounded by a black vignette as the poison ate away at his vision. As soon as Hewley let go of his jaw, he shut his eyes with an annoyed huff. “Oh—before I forget.” Before I’m unconscious and can’t ask. “No one here is doing a genocide, right?”

“A what?” said…oh, Kunsel was there too. Nice.

“No,” said other Cloud and Zack, very confidently. He filed that fact away for later consideration.

“Great, love that for you,” said Cloud, words beginning to slur. Hewley caught his arm with an alarmed noise as one leg buckled and he slumped hard over the handrail. “Poisona didn’ do shit, good luck.”

“What?” several people said in alarm.

“Din’ do shiiiiiiit,” Cloud repeated. His other leg buckled, and his tongue was starting to go numb too. Asphyxiation was probably a real concern, then. That wasn’t too bad a way to go, in his experience. Although, he definitely hoped Zack didn’t watch if that was the case.

“Okay, you are definitely going to Medical,” Angeal said, as if he was daring Cloud to argue with him. He took all of Cloud’s weight and lifted him like it was nothing.

“S’long as I don’ wake up on’n autopsy table again,” Cloud agreed. Someone made a horrified noise. Whoops. Maybe the slow slide toward probable asphyxiation was making him a little loopier than he thought. Sorry, Zack!

That was pretty much his last thought before he blacked out.

[clarepreed]

Micro-Story: Liquid Courage

Story Summary and Content: - 2,349 words. A younger Clare drinks her feelings. No resus. Alcohol poisoning, vomit.

--

Based on first and secondhand accounts. Names and some details changed to avoid identification.

“You can be DD this time,” Clare said, trying to sound assertive. She suspected it was problematic to need alcohol to get through a party, but he wanted to go and if she didn’t go with him that was the last that they’d see each other for a week. But getting through an entire evening of socializing with people she barely knew was a lot. “I was DD the past few times.”

Leo shrugged. “If you say so.” He was letting his beard grow out again, scraggly and unkempt, and she was having a hard time not focusing on a particularly dry piece jutting out to the side.

Clare hoisted her bag in front of them. “I went to the liquor store and got a big bottle of vodka.”

“Okay…”

“Well, when I get beer it’s just for me and one other person. This would be for a lot of people. I also got a big jug of fruit punch.”

Leo didn’t respond; he was looking at his phone.

“What time do we need to leave?” Clare sat down on the bed next to him. “I probably should have gotten Coke and vanilla vodka. Or vodka and Vanilla Coke. I used to like that. But this was cheap.”

“We can go now,” Leo said. “Marlowe and Amy said any time after seven.”

“I also brought the s’mores supplies they asked for.”

“I can give you some money for those.” Leo stood, shoving his phone in his back pocket. He turned and looked at Clare, seeming to see her for the first time. “You look good, babe.”

“Oh,” she said, suddenly shy. She stood, resisting the urge to tug on the slim fit dress she was wearing. She’d put on a few pounds recently and was uncertain about her curves. “Thanks!”

“Ready?” Leo leaned over and gave her a quick kiss, his facial hair prickling the inside of her nose.

“Let’s go!” She waited until he’d turned to rub her nose with the back of her hand. Then she picked up her bags and followed him outside. Leo didn’t talk much on the way to Marlowe and Amy’s house, and Clare went back and forth between silence and talking too much. Finally, she asked: “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.”

Clare swallowed hard and tried again. “It’s just that… Things haven’t seemed okay lately, and now you’re being very—”

“Everything is fine. Nothing is wrong.” And then they were at Marlowe and Amy’s house and the conversation was over.

They made s’mores first, and then Leo disappeared with the smokers. In the kitchen, Clare filled a Solo cup with a heavy-handed serving of vodka and punch and talked politics with Leo’s older friends. She refilled the cup once or twice before deciding to look for Leo.

Clare found him reclining on the porch in a patio chair, smoking a cigarette and talking with the other smokers. She smelled a combination of tobacco and weed, which made her eyes burn. He looked over, but didn’t greet her. 

“Hey,” she said. The air inside and outside the house was humid, but at least out here, once she stepped away from the smokers, anyway, it smelled fresh.

“Hey.” His voice was flat. She had a flashback to the previous year, when they’d been at the same house and she had actually had to tell him to go hang out with his friends. She could hold her own and he should go have fun. Leo had been very physically affectionate then, unconcerned with PDA.

“Are you having a good time?” Clare asked, bringing up her phone to take his picture. He grimaced at her, cigarette between his teeth.

She went to take another photo and he swatted at her, not coming close enough to touch her. “Stop!” 

Clare didn’t appreciate his tone, but she knew she should drop it. Before she could lower the phone, he snapped again.

“Stop it!” He looked angry, and the last vestiges of Clare’s smile slipped.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

Leo turned in his chair, cutting her off with the line of his body. Clare looked for an empty chair and couldn’t find one.

“I’ll be inside,” she said, not waiting to see if he responded.

She topped off her drink, watching the vodka glug glug glug into her plastic cup, then found the unofficial “wives and girlfriends” room. They were also out of chairs, but she sat on the floor, taking the opportunity to stretch her legs. Before long, the women were peppering her with questions about her relationship.

“Oh, uh… no, we’re closed. But not because I have a problem with open relationships.” The alcohol finally hit her, spreading warmth from her bra line up to her crown. “And you’ve all slept with each other?”

“Not ALL of us,” Samantha said, laughing. “Jesus. That would be an orgy.”

“I mean…” Amy gave Samantha a significant look and they both laughed.

The conversation shifted, time passing. Later, she wouldn’t remember most of what they’d discussed.

Leo appeared in the doorway, evidently looking for her. He walked through the room, pausing by Clare where she sat on the hardwood floor. “Having fun?” He seemed to be happier now, leaning over to kiss her.

“Yeah, we’re having a nice time in here.”

“Good,” he said, headed for the kitchen. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to leave.”

An indeterminate amount of time crawled by. Clare helped herself to more cups of vodka and punch. Eventually, she felt cheery and supercharged and clumsy, the room around her hot and blurry. She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, but that didn’t help.

Should have worn my glasses.

“Hey, babe,” Leo said, seeming to appear out of nowhere. “Wanna go home?”

He reached down, offering her his hand. Clare accepted it, laughing as he pulled her to her feet and the room canted around her. Then, seemingly in a blink of an eye, they were on the porch.

“Where’s your Jeep?” she mumbled. She had a vague impression of walking through the yard and past a line of cars. Leo muttered something about being blocked in.

Her hands were numb as she fought with the door and climbed in. Leo wasn’t there; she wasn’t sure where he’d gone exactly, but she had the idea that he’d forgotten something. Clare couldn’t seem to get enough air, her breath coming short and fast. She leaned back against the seat, dragging in a deeper breath by force. 

Nausea hit her out of nowhere. Clare gagged, clapped a hand to her mouth. Then she leaned out of the Jeep.

Uh oh…

Her sight went dark, followed by a brief sensation of falling. She landed in a heap and vomited; her face pressed into the grass.

Nothing at first. Then someone lifted her partway off the ground. She vomited again.

“How much … she drink?” a man asked.

“Don’t … kept going back … Poured herself…” The words were fading in and out. She was aware of being carried inside.

They laid her out something soft, and she tried to open her eyes, but couldn’t.

“Guess … going anywhere?”

“… vomit … load up.”

“Got that trash can? She’s—”

Clare hurled again, helpless to stop it and unable to move. Her body jerked and shuddered. A pair of hands gripped her shoulders, twisting her to the side, and another held her head in place.

“…put her hair up.” A third pair of hands raked through her hair.

Her eyes peeled open as they laid her flat. Everything was blurry. Her heart raced, and breathing was still difficult.

“Can’t… breathe…” she gasped.

“Sure, you can.” That was Leo. “What do we do?”

“You can stay the night. We don’t mind.” A man’s voice, not Leo’s. “Or she can spend the night and I’ll drive her home tomorrow.”

Don’t leave me here!

The rate of her breathing picked up. Anxiety ran through her, narrowing her airway, filling her sinuses, paralyzing her lungs. She clutched at her chest and gave the room a wild rake of her eyes.

Then she blacked out again.

She wasn’t sure how long she was out this time, but she woke with an awareness of someone leaning close by her face.

“Is she breathing?”

“Yeah, I can see her chest moving.”

A man scoffed. “Barely. We should call an ambulance.”

“She won’t like it,” Leo said. “She’ll be mad.”

“I have some water for her,” Amy said. “Clare?”

“Hun, I’m not sure she can drink—”

She didn’t even feel nauseated anymore, she just vomited, her breath gurgling in and out, and the hands heaved her up and over again. They wiped her face with something cool and wet.

“Shit…”

Clare opened her eyes. She caught a glimpse of Amy’s face, wide-eyed and ashen.

“Oh! Clare?”

This is a couch. I’m on a couch.

Leo stood near her feet, his face impossible to read. She certainly didn’t see any warmth.

“Clare?” Amy again.

“I got everything hidden,” a man said. “You can call 9-1-1 now if you want.”

“Leo, does she take any medication?”

I am going to die. I’m going to pass out and suffocate and die.

Clare was hyperventilating now, breathing in short, rapid gasps. The room around her canted lazily. Faces blurred and distorted, until she latched onto the most familiar face, Leo’s. He looked annoyed. “You’re… going… to break up…………with me.”

“I don’t know… something for anxiety.” Leo shrugged. “Shh, babe.”

“Did she take it tonight? That freaks me out a little.,” Amy said, sounding concerned.

“Don’t… love me… anymore.” Tears ran down her cheeks. “Feel like I’m… dying…”

“Clare, hush.”

Darkness.

Darkness.

Darkness.

“…breathing?”

Fingers brushed her nose and her lips.

“Yes!”

“Make sure her head’s tipped back.”

“Clare? Wake up, the ambulance is on its way.”

“How often is she breathing?”

Clare faded out again.

When she next roused, she felt hands touching her wrist and her neck. A painful grinding down her sternum made her suck in a deep breath and let it out with a groan. Someone called her name, but she couldn’t answer, and then she lost another segment of time.

Darkness, movement.

Clare woke with a gasp, her body contorting to escape the pain tearing up the back of her left leg. 

“Woah! Is she strapped in? She’s gonna fall off the gurney!”

“I thought she was out!” Unfamiliar voices.

“She was!”

“You want her pressure again?”

“Nah, let’s load her.”

Her right leg seized up and she choked out a scream.

“Why is she in pain?!” Amy asked.

“Dehydration. Muscle cramps. I’ll give her fluids in the ambulance. We’re going to take her to Ashbury, someone gonna follow?”

Darkness.

She opened her eyes inside of an ambulance, laying on her side on the gurney, her arm extended. 

“Keep your eyes open for me, Clare. You’re going to be fine. You need fluids.”

A paramedic seated close by leaned forward and tied a tourniquet around her arm, just above her elbow. The ambulance was rattling and shaking.

“This road…” the paramedic muttered.

She must have blacked out again, because she blinked and there was an IV in her arm and a small amount of blood on the floor. She knew this because her face was pressed against the gurney’s side rails.

“I bled… on… the floor! Sorry…”

“Don’t worry about that. Take a couple of deep and slow breaths for me. Do you think you could lay back?”

“I’ll… throw… up! Augh!” Pain spasmed through her legs and back.

“That will stop soon, I promise. Getting you rehydrated right now. Let me know if you think you’ll vomit again.” She had no idea what he looked like; her vision was still dim and blurry. “I’m giving you medication for nausea.”

“How will I… get home?” she gasped.

“There’s a Jeep Grand Cherokee following us to the hospital.”

“Feels hard… to breathe…”

“Believe it or not, saline is going to help with that, too. Do you —”

Time jumped. Clare opened her eyes and found herself sprawled on her back on a hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling tiles. She felt like shit, registered the IV in her arm and the curtain around the bed. Someone had draped her with a sheet, but her bare feet were uncovered.

“Where are my shoes?” She could breathe properly now, her anxiety a distant memory.

“Hey, babe.” Leo was sitting in a chair against the wall. He crammed his phone in his pocket and squinted at her. “Your shoes are over here. I have your phone and your purse, too. That’s where I was when you fell out. You feel okay?”

“Not great…” There was a white block clipped to her finger. She recognized it, but couldn’t remember what it was called. They’d left her in her dress but someone had unhooked her bra, and she saw leads running out of the neckline and the tops of two electrode dots peeking out. She was surprised to see that she hadn’t thrown up on her dress. 

“The nurse said once you woke up, you have to finish your IV and then we can probably go home.” Leo got up and walked over to the side of the bed. “They didn’t have to pump your stomach or anything. You threw a lot of it up. You seemed a lot better when they let me back here than you were at the house. It’s a long drive.”

“Oh… that’s good.” Clare looked up at him, feeling a heavy weight of shame and guilt on her shoulders. She also had to pee, which seemed like a good sign. “I’m sorry. This hasn’t happened before.” 

She looked away from him, up at the ceiling again. “I know you hate hospitals. Is everyone mad at me?”

“Just worried, Clare.”

“This is going to be expensive.”

“Probably.”

“Think they’ll let me go to the bathroom?”

“I’ll find out.” He moved away from the bed, giving her a sidelong look. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Clare watched Leo push his way out of the curtain, leaving her alone. 

[lake-archive]

He's A Teasing Nightmare! But...

AO3 Link - Fling Posse Selfship / Yumeship Masterlist

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Gentaro Yumeno, Ann Wolff (OC)

Pairing: Genann (Gentaro/Ann)

Summary: Gentaro has his fun messing around with others a little and Ann is certainly no exception to this rule. However, even they can get mad at it sometimes! … Right?

Words: 1,435

This time this was too far, way too far! All day long it was just one thing constantly and it wasn't getting any funnier! In fact it only got more embarrassing as time went on and they had no idea how to handle this anymore. Even if they should be used to it by now, given that they knew what Gentaro was like. Of course they knew! They had been enduring him for a good while now! They were way more than aware! But they never got used to any of it, or so it seemed at least. After all, each day they were falling for one trick after the other.

Every verbal tease coming out of his mouth they took literally, always becoming a blushing mess while slowly stopping to think properly. He knew what words to use, always saying them so softly which made them unable to process their own thoughts eventually. Until he would drop his signature line, all the time. ‘ Well, it’s a lie~ ’, always saying it so shamelessly with a smile on his face. It brought them back to reality, surely, yet it always had them a little peeved at the end. Not to mention whenever he chuckled at the end, it had them always a little more peeved than before. 

But it did not stop at verbal teasing, far from it. Because Gentaro knew how to trick Ann in many other ways. Sometimes he would fluster them with simple actions – Pulling them a little closer, lift up their head by their chin a little, touching their nose softly with one of his fingers – All small, quick touches which always made them act up one way or another. He had an easy time, to say the least and he was more than aware, judging from his ever so big grin, playful yet confident. Though sometimes it seemed just playful yet happy, just enjoying the sight he would get right in front of him. And it was nothing they could stop nor bothered to do. Not like they believed to stand a chance anyway. 

And yet, sometimes too much is too much! Because Ann could not help themself but wonder… Were they nothing but a toy!? Were they just someone they could mess with all day long!? They couldn’t help but wonder… Sure, it was all playful banter… But enough is enough, isn’t it!? Yeah, it should be! And they were going to show him at this very moment!

Today it had started like any other, both were alone for this moment inside Ramuda’s studio. Ramuda himself had a few errands to run so he asked Ann and Gentaro both to get comfortable and he will be back later. He waved them bye and headed out to be done as quickly as possible. Thus both sat on the couch, right next to each other, first saying nothing to another. There was no reason to after all. And yet, it did not take long for Ann to quickly turn away from Gentaro with a huff, not looking him in the eyes. They did not even want to give him the chance to snatch their head in some way and mess with them yet again! No way!

“Hm? Is something the matter Ann–San?” They heard him asked, calmly yet with a hint of confusion. He did not catch on at all! … Ok fine, to be fair, they had not told him anything either. 

“Who knows.” They responded however, even crossing their arms…  Yet still not bothering to look at him. They wouldn’t! They couldn’t! They shouldn’t! It was safer if they didn't, resisting any type of temptation! Or something like that… “Not telling.”

“Not telling? Did I do something to make thee unhappy?”

No proper response, only silence. They refused to speak up and instead just shuffled around on the couch, wanting to get comfortable. They were stubborn this time, not forgiving him whatsoever! Nor speaking up and playing into his current cards! Then again, this is only a sign of their own stubbornness in the end. They just didn't want to give him any upper hand.

“Ann–San?” They only heard him say his name in the end, with his ever so soft voice which had them nearly jump in their seat for a moment. No, they wouldn't! Though… He did sound confused, truly. Maybe a little worried? Could that really be? Guh…

“It's… Uhm…” They felt it, how they started to crack. Because in truth, what had Gentaro ever done what made them truly upset? Sure, it got them slightly peeved but angry? Upset? Furious? It wasn't that. This was just an act of their silly stubbornness, how they had refused to give into his ever so sweet and alluring tone. But they couldn't say that now, could they!? How would they look!? Silly, stupid perhaps! No, like an idiot! Actually wait, this was pretty idiotic in hindsight then, wasn't it!? Ahh! Why was this unnecessarily complicated!? Were they just forcing themself to be mad at him!? This is all so dumb! Dumb dumb dumb! And that is all Gentaro's fault! Stupid Gentaro!

And yet, this caused them to stutter a bit longer, not sure how to phrase it without sounding like a total moron. Yet they were interrupted when hearing Gentaro speak up once more, asking: “Art thou not feeling well? If thou wish to rest then–”

“Ah yeesh! Enough! Shut up!” It had suddenly shot out of their own mouth, noticing how red they had gotten. It was obvious, given how warm they had felt and this was unbearable. They were really trying to be ‘mad’ and yet it was more a sad attempt if anything, nothing else. A very sad attempt, the desperation all too obvious. Because no matter how hard they had tried… They couldn't do it. Mad at Gentaro? Over this? Not a chance! Especially not when he seemed to be somewhat concerned, to the point he sounded truly puzzled, concerned even. It only showed them all the more reason to stop pretending and crack.

It all had only proved itself when turning around, having a glance at his truly confused face before diving right down, against his chest and bury themself into it. All because they did not want to see them like this, this embarrassed. They didn’t even want to hear it. Just speaking in his voice can make them weak and they would prefer it if he didn’t know. They would prefer that he had no clue about this side of theirs, always managing to bring them over the edge and embarrass them by any sense of the word. It was just too much. They couldn’t bear anyone to see them like this, much less knowing someone who could cause such reactions. But Gentaro was that person, that one person where they became vulnerable very quickly. They were defenseless against him sometimes, they knew. And he knew it too, otherwise he would not push it, have his fun with it. Seeing them so weak, all mushy and never sure what to say or do next… It was confusing. And on top of that he was confusing too. The worst combination one could ever imagine encountering. Or so Ann thought at least. Because this guy messes with their mind without even trying. What were they supposed to think of them? And how were they supposed to view him? Or maybe… What did he want from them? What does he want the two of them to be? It was something they could never explain and he would never explain this either… And it was eating them up for some reason… 

Yeah, if they pretended to be mad it was just to show their confusion. Because being mad at him? Somehow, that was not even an option. And admitting all of that was equally embarrassing.

“I’m sorry ok!? Just… Please… Don’t talk right now…” They begged shortly after, facing his clothed chest if anything, shortly before closing their eyes for a moment. They really just… Ugh, it was hard to put into words. 

The silence in between was unbearable as well and yet it would be broken soon enough with a chuckle, followed up by the following: “Very well. And here I nearly thought that thou have started to hate me.” And yet, he said it slightly playfully. Was he really concerned about that or was he just messing around with them here? Guh… Gentaro is impossible sometimes. But… 

“Hate? … Even if I try, I can’t hate you I think.” And that was the truth.

[readingslover]

Chapter 5

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Amory Madden was a girl of strong morals. She knew what she thought was right and tried not to stray from it often, having a strong conscience keeping her on track. This made her honorable and trustworthy, however, it also made her overthink a lot of situations, having internal debates on different moral dilemmas.

Now, sitting in the gallery watching Meredith’s open heart surgery, Amory sipped her coffee and scanned through another article, her head resting on George’s shoulder.

“I wish I could hold a heart,” George complained.

“A monkey could hold a heart.” Cristina pointed out.

“At least, Mer has a better view. you’re just mad because Burke didn’t pick you to scrub in.” Amory sighed and Cristina frowned at her.

“George, I need more ice chips.” Izzie joined them.

“Who else did you invite?” The boy asked.

Amory wasn’t one for parties. She liked going to the occasional club, but house parties just felt way too much of a mess. And, to be honest, she knew she was one of the people that would clean up all of it alongside Izzie.

“We said the list was jocks only: surgery, trauma, plastics.”

Amory narrowed her eyes at the guilty expression that came on Izzie’s face. “Isobel Stevens, who else did you invite?”

“Just some people from peds.” She answered with a shrug.

“Some people from peds…! You invited the preschoolers to Meredith’s house. Next thing you’ll say is you invited the shrinks.” Cristina complained. At the tall blonde’s silence, the curly-haired exclaimed. “She invited mental defect. This party is DOA.”

“Cristina, that’s not ice. And, by the way, pediatrics is one of the most competitive specialties. Besides, the nurses from there are all really nice.” Amory scolded.

“Fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Now happy?”

“Very.” She flashed her an adorable smile.

“Meredith thinks this is going to be a small, meet-your-boyfriend, cocktail thing. Did you clear this with her?” George asked, hoping Izzie already did that so they don’t have to explain why a lot of people are in her house.

“No, but I will.” The three flashed her accusing looks. “I promise!”

“Why are you wasting the only weekend your boyfriend’s in town on a big party? Is he bad in bed?” Amory giggled and Cristina looked at her with a soft smile.

“No, I just want him to meet some of my friends.”

“Right. Sixty geeks in scrubs are your friends.” Cristina’s pager went off and she got up to leave. “Bad sex, sucks for you.”

“I hear there’s a party tonight at Meredith’s house.” Alex comes in.

“News to me.” Izzie denied as Amory looked down with a guilty look. She didn’t yet know the boy well, but she had a feeling he wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought he was.

Just then, the heart monitor started beeping in the OR below them, and the interns continued to observe intensely. Eventually, the surgeon managed to get the patient’s heart to start beating once again.

~~~~~~

Dr. Bailey had paged both George and Amory to work with her on a case. The blonde girl loved working with her resident, so she was more than thrilled to tag along. Now, looking at the patient’s scans, the older women questioned them. “What do you see here?”

“Hyperinflated lungs clouded with bullae. Seriously diminished capacity. She must be having trouble breathing.” The boy answered.

“Course of action?”

“A bullectomy procedure,” Amory answered. “Remove the bullae, reduce the pressure.”

“It says here we operated on her back in ‘99, so Mrs. Drake has been through this before, but talk her through it anyway. And resist the anti-smoke lectures, she feels bad enough already.” The chief instructed them.

“So, do you think if they put a picture of these in a pack of cigarettes people would stop smoking?” George suggested, looking at his friend with adoration while they walked away.

“Don’t think so. Maybe some but not most. Addiction is complicated.” The young girl responded.

~~~~~~

“The surgery before was supposed to help, but it never felt right.” Mrs. Drake told the pair.

“Probably would be a good idea to quit smoking…” George let out, earning an elbow in the ribs from the small girl standing next to him. “George!”

“Oh, it’s fine dear. I did! Four-pack-a-day habit. it was hell. Didn’t do any damn good.”

“Well then, it seems congratulations are in order, Mrs. Drake.” She smiled at the woman.

“Well, it looked… I mean, from the damage, we all thought you were probably still smoking.” George informed.

“Cold turkey, five years ago, and what did I get for my trouble? I still had to quit my job at the restaurant. But even sitting, it hurt. Nobody believed me, they said it was in my head.”

“We’ve seen the films, and it’s clearly not in your head.” The blonde girl told her.

“Come here, the two of you.” The woman signaled them to come closer and said in a tone of secrecy: “You’re damn too young to be doctors.”

“Hey! I’m older than I look.” The boy defended himself.

“I’m probably not, but rest assured that I’m qualified for this. We test it before we even begin our Med school.” Amory smiled once more.

“Do you think this is gonna work this time?”

“I think it’s your best option,” George said.

“And we certainly hope it does work this time.” The girl added.

“Straight shooters, huh? I like that… you’re a nice couple.”

“A.. eum, a… what?!” George squealed, the blonde’s eyes widening in shock.

“Oh, no, we’re… we’re not.” She attempted to explain, blushing.

“Huh, could have fooled me.” Mrs. Drake answered, the interns looking at each other.

~~~~~~

Later, at the nurses' station, Amory watched with furrowed brows as Dr. Burke gave Cristina a cup of coffee. Not wanting to be a gossip, but certainly being too curious to ignore it, she overheard their conversation.

“Just coffee.” Dr. Burke said.

“Good.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Cristina answered as he left.

The blonde grabbed her charts and approached her curly-haired friend.

“You are sleeping with him.” She pointed out.

“Is that a question?” Cristina asked.

“No, more of an accusation.” The girl joked.

“How… how do you know?” The Asian asked.

“Ah, when are you all going to learn: I know.” She took a gulp of her friend's coffee.” There’s a reason I graduated a year early.”

“Not a word of this. To anyone.”

“My lips are sealed.” The girl promised her friend.

~~~~~~

Now observing their patient’s surgery, George and Amory listened to Dr. Bailey’s explanation.

“They call this a spaghetti procedure. We cut and deflate the bullae to facilitate gentle manipulations of Mrs. Drake’s ling.”

“Dr. Bailey, did you see that?” The chief asked pointing out something inside the patient.

“Sir? Oh, my ever-loving…” The woman trailed off.

“We need to open her up. I’m taking out the scope.”

As George’s expression was one of confusion, Amory seemed to have caught on to what was going on. “I think that was something that’s not supposed to be there.” The girl explained to her friend in a hushed tone, him giving her an appreciative look.

“You heard him, people, let’s move.” Dr. Bailey pointed out as her interns looked over her shoulder.

As the older surgeons operated, the interns watched intensely, until the chief pulled something out of the woman.

“Is that a towel?! Where did that come from?” George questioned.

“I’m guessing her surgery, five years ago,” Amory suggested, her mouth slightly open in disbelief.

“Something careless this way comes.” Dr. Bailey said.

~~~~~~

Walking down the hallway with Dr. Bailey and Dr. Webber, Amory, and George filled Cristina in.

“A towel?” The woman said, shocked.

“She complained of pressure on her chest, but nobody took her seriously,” George explained.

“She says she’d always know the surgery didn’t feel right and that it hadn’t helped.” The blonde girl informed, seeing her friend’s expression turn into an even more surprised one.

“Not good for the patient, not good for the hospital. Not good.” The chief told them.

“I’m guessing particularly not good for her surgeon.” The blonde girl whispered so that only her fellow interns could hear.

“Cristina hit the files. Find out everything you can about that initial operation. Who was in that room, and who was responsible for closing? George and Amory, you stay with the patient and keep her happy. She seemed to like you two.” The girl nodded and just as she was about to take off she heard her friend and stopped in her tracks.

“Right, okay, eum... how long do you think… it’s just technically, I’m off at six.” George said.

“Am I invited to the party?” Dr. Bailey questioned.

“Well, yeah, yes, of course…” He stuttered, Amory only managing to hold in her laughter long enough until the resident was gone before letting it out.

“What was I supposed to say?!” The boy asked.

“Ughhh!” Cristina let out. Letting George know she wasn’t happy about it.

“Anything, George. Anything, but that.” The blonde girl pat her friend’s back as he let out a frustrated sigh.

~~~~~~

“They told me I had a towel inside me.” The older woman complained, laying in her hospital bed.

“Who told you that?” George asked, with Amory by his side.

“A surgeon, an older man. Handsome.” It came out weakly, as if even talking took up too much energy for the woman.

“Must be Doctor Webber. He’s chief of surgery.” Amory informed, looking at the woman with compassionate eyes and a small smile.

“It was a towel somebody left last time.” The patient shared. “Who would do that? That doesn’t seem right, does it?” She teared up slightly.

“No, it truly doesn’t. But I’m sure they’ll find whoever made the mistake and take the needed measures to prevent it from happening again.” The blonde attempted to calm her down.

“I was walking around with a towel inside of me. How could that happen?” Amory looked at her friend as sees he appeared to be as distraught as she was.

“I don’t know, Ma’am. You’re ok now, though. You’ll get better.” She held the woman’s hand, attempting to give her some comfort. George watches her in awe, but that goes unnoticed to the girl.

~~~~~~

In the tunnels, Amory laid with her legs over Cristina’s, eating an apple.

“You got called before the chief?” George asked, playing with a glove he turned into a balloon.

“Tomorrow morning. I could get kicked out of the program, I could, right?” Meredith asked.

“You’re not getting kicked out.” The boy said.

“Patterson is just gonna sue.” Cristina shared and Amory nodded.

“Patterson’s not going to sue and you’re not getting kicked out!”

“What were you thinking, telling burke? So stupid.” Cristina told her.

“I told her not to,” George revealed.

“Thank you, very comforting.” The dirty blonde reacted sarcastically.

“She should have! It is good you mentioned it to Burke, okay maybe better not to have done it in front of the patient. Imagined if it’s caused a problem and you didn’t say anything, then you probably would get kicked out of the program. Plus, I think the chief will see that you actually revealed professionalism and honesty by coming forward.” Amory gave her little speech between bites of her apple, making Mer smile tightly.

The troubled intern’s phone rang and she got up to take the call, as Izzie arrived and took her place.

“Okay, so beer is coming at seven, and four nurses are bringing wine.”

“Nurses? You invited nurses?!” Cristina complained.

“Did you clear this with Meredith?” George wondered.

“A few more people aren’t gonna make a difference. A party is a party.” The tall blonde answered.

“Actually, it is. She has an important meeting tomorrow, so you need to fill her in. It’s her house.” Amory let out, like an angry mother scolding her child.

“You know, you get scary when you’re mad,” Cristina says. “Anyway, the bigger the part the less time for bad sex.”

“Can you stop saying that! Hank and I have great sex all the time. In fact, we’ll probably have sex after or during the party.” The tall blonde snacked on some fries.

“As long as you clear it with Meredith,” George told her and Amory made an approving noise.

“Hank just needs to realize that doctors can have fun. We’re not all workaholics with god complexes.”

“We are, Izzie, there’s no need to make it seem like we aren’t.” The short blonde stole a few chips from her, as George showed them the glove balloon, which now had a face, making Amory giggle.

~~~~~~

Late that night, Amory sat on one of the benches in the locker room with yet another article. However, this time, she couldn’t bring herself to actually read. She’d just watch Izzie and Alex scrub in on a surely, even though she was supposed to be home already.

Earlier, she had seen Dr. Burke and Dr. Bailey speaking, and, by the look of the conversation, had realized that Burke must have been the surgeon responsible for leaving a towel inside her patient. It had scared her. Granted, the girl didn’t take a particular liking to the man, but he was a damn good surgeon, a competent surgeon. If he’d make such a blatant mistake, what would stop others from doing the same? Worse, he hadn’t come forward about the problem, endangering a woman’s life in the process.

Now, the heartbroken woman’s complaints and the sight of the towel coming out of her, five years later, wouldn’t leave the girl’s head. In her thought, she barely noticed Alex entering the locker room.

“Hay, what are you still doing here?” He asked, making the blonde jump. “Not in the mood for a party?”

“Just a weird day. A lot of things to think about.” She told him. He started changing out of his scrubs, while she stared into the void, thoughts still running through her head.

Looking at her with compassion in his eyes, the boy sighed, as if trying to convince himself not to continue this conversation. However, he caved in moments later and sat down next to her.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked.

“It’s not that big of a deal, really. It’s just, in my patient we found a towel that was there from the surgery she had five years ago. She spent those years in pain, while no one believed her…” The girl trailed off for a moment. “It makes you think about how much responsibility we really have. We can change someone's life in just a minute, by not double-checking things or getting distracted. We could make a fatal mistake, compromise someone’s future… I just like to think that I’m actually helping someone and not making them worse.” She ended with a sigh.

“You’re too good for your own good, Madden. This job can really suck sometimes.” The boy agreed.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while, Amory’s head resting against the wall.

“I should go. The party must have died down by now.” She said and got up, putting her article in her bag and adjusting it on her shoulder.

“Not one for parties either?” Ales asked with a soft smile.

“No.” As she walked to leave the room, she stopped and looked back for a moment. “You know, I don’t think you’re as bad as they paint you out to be.” Amory said softly and left the room, leaving Alex somewhat stunned to think about what she’d just said. It felt good to have at least someone believe in him.

~~~~~~

As she ended up falling asleep in an on-call room, Amory gets home the next morning to find an extremely dirty house.

“What happened here? How many people came to this party?” She said scrunching her nose in disgust as she sat down on the couch by Meredith, who was lying on the floor.

“I don’t know. I’m too hungover to think.”

George came in and handed Meredith some coffee. “ Why didn’t you come home? I was worried?”

“I fell asleep in an on-call room. I was too tired to come to the party, no need to worry. When’s your meeting with the Chief, Mer?” She answered with a sincere look in her eyes.

“In an hour.” The girl replied with a raspy voice as Amory pats her head.

Izzie then came in with a face that Amory had just a few seconds ago. “Holy mother of destruction!”

“You missed doctor-palooza. I should probably never speak to you again.” Meredith joked.

“I’m so sorry Meredith, I had no idea it was gonna get so…” The tall girl sat between George and Amory on the couch.

“Crazy? Destructive? Messy?” Amory suggested, Izzie glaring at him playfully.

“It’s ok. Really, I don’t care. What would I be doing anyway?” The dirty blonde forgave her.

“Preparing for a career-altering meeting?” George said, earning him a slap on the back of his head from the short blonde girl. “Ouch! Sorry.” He says as he rubs the back of his head.

“The heart wall shouldn’t have torn…”

“Anything in the patient’s history?” The model tried to help.

“Husband said she was in the best shape, she lost a hundred pounds last year.”

“Hundred pounds in a year? That might be it, the muscle mass is not that great when you lose so much.” Amory suggested, her eyes widening at her discovery, Izzie took a gulp of a random bear.

“It’s 7 am, Izzie. Do you even know whose that is?” The girl complained.

“I was hoping it was George’s,” Izzie says and Amoy lets out a giggle, mixed with a disgusted expression.

~~~~~~

“What do you think?” Izzie asks Cristina, George, and Amory as they waited to see how their friend’s meeting goes.

“Fifty says Meredith gets tossed out on her ass and Burke walks away clean.” The girl continued while Amory eyed her with narrowed eyes and gently hit her arm.

“Be nice.”

As Meredith walked out, she informed the group. “One-month probation. Burke saved my ass in there.” They all sighed in relief.

As Amory learned that Burke had come forwards about the towel situation, she felt a weight lifted off her chest. Maybe he’s made a mistake, but he’d taken responsibility and tried to fix it. And if he had, what would stop others from doing the same?

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] || Also on AO3

Chapter 13: July 2016

[CLICK]

[ECHOING FOOTSTEPS, ONE SET OF WHICH HAS A DECIDED LIMP ]

MARTIN

Feeling better, Tim?

TIM

Yeah, thanks. Head’s a bit clearer. Nasty headache, but, uh, I think that’ll pass. Jon, how’s the leg?

ARCHIVIST

[Strained] It’s fine.

[FOOTSTEPS STOP]

MARTIN

Jon. Do you trust me?

ARCHIVIST

Wh—

[Deep breath] Yes.

TIM

Whoa.

MARTIN

Here.

[FABRIC RUSTLES, SLIGHT GRUNTING NOISES]

MARTIN

There, I’ve got you. You don’t need to make that worse by walking on it.

ARCHIVIST

Thank you.

TIM

What happened, anyway? Fuck, you didn’t get bitten, did you?

ARCHIVIST

Only by one. And Martin got it out. I’m fine.

TIM

But what if you’re…you know. What if you missed one? Will you end up like…

ARCHIVIST

I don’t know, I—

MARTIN

We didn’t. There was just the one. I’ll look again later, but I promise, Jon, you’re not Corrupted.

[BRIEF SILENCE, SAVE THE FOOTSTEPS]

ARCHIVIST

That’s twice now.

MARTIN

Huh?

ARCHIVIST

You keep using that word. Corrupted. That’s what you said Jane Prentiss was doing to the documents, too. And now…

I-it, it means something, doesn’t it? Something important.

MARTIN

…

Yes.

Look, Jon, it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you before. I did. I was going to tell you about all this after she attacked me the first time. Actually, I’d told Neens to come tell you if she didn’t hear from me. I thought Prentiss sent her an all-clear, but turned out she never got my text in the first place, so—

TIM

Sorry, Neens?

MARTIN

Melanie. King. She’s my stepsister. How do you think I was able to get hold of Hannah?

TIM

Han—wait, the nurse from Ivy Meadows? What’s that got to do with…hang on, Melanie King is your sister?

MARTIN

Stepsister. Her mum died around the same time my dad left us, and—never mind. It’s not important. But yeah, that’s why she came to make a statement in the first place. She hadn’t heard from me in a while and just…wanted an excuse to get into the Archives to see me, but without letting people know we knew each other. Making a statement seemed as good a reason as any.

TIM

Why was that such a big deal? That people not know she knows you, I mean? If I were related to Melanie King, I’d be bragging about it to everyone that came through.

MARTIN

It’s kind of a safety thing. We’ve had issues in the past with…people…finding out we know each other and using that against us. Not letting some of the more dangerous people out there know you’ve got someone who can be used as leverage keeps them safe. I guess we’re just so used to protecting one another that it’s second nature at this point.

Especially after Gerry.

ARCHIVIST

I suppose I owe her an apology. It was true, wasn’t it? Her statement. I-it wouldn’t go on the laptop.

MARTIN

Yeah, a lot of…those things are weirdly resistant to a lot of technology. It’s probably why the video file was so…

ARCHIVIST

Corrupted? Distorted?

MARTIN

Messed up. That wasn’t…I don’t think it was either of those things.

TIM

And we’re back to “Corrupted means something important”. Distorted does too?

MARTIN

I…sort of? It’s not as big as the Corruption, but…

Okay, look. It’s a lot to explain and I’m…I dunno. Do you want to stop and have me tell you about it now?

TIM

In this mess?

ARCHIVIST

No, I—you can explain it when we get out of here. When we’re safe. Just answer me one question.

MARTIN

Sure.

ARCHIVIST

Why didn’t you tell me before?

You—you said you wanted to, that you’d told…Ms. King to tell me and she didn’t, but…you didn’t, either. Why not?

MARTIN

When I first got back? You believed me. About what had happened with Prentiss, I mean. And you were anxious enough, I didn’t…it didn’t seem like the time to lay out exactly what we’re involved in. I figured when things settled down a bit, I’d tell you.

ARCHIVIST

And yet, you didn’t.

MARTIN

…No.

ARCHIVIST

Why not?

MARTIN

Elias. He called me up to his office for a “chat” the day Melanie came to make her statement.

ARCHIVIST

I—I remember. You, uh, you didn’t talk to anyone for the rest of the afternoon.

What did he—wait, does he know all this?

MARTIN

[Bitterly] Of course he does. You can’t run a place like the Magnus Institute and not be aware of Them, or what’s actually going on with the Leitners, or any of that. He knows, all right. And he knew when he hired me that I knew. He sure as hell knew before he sent me down to the Archives.

But he didn’t want you to know. I don’t know what his game is, I don’t know why it’s so important to him that you stay ignorant, but it is. I’m pretty sure he went out of his way to make sure you wouldn’t trust me, o-or believe me if I said anything, which kept me from saying anything at first. And then I got trapped, and we started…getting along better, and I was finally at the point where I was going to tell you everything. And then he talked to me.

ARCHIVIST

What did he say?

MARTIN

…

[Softly] He threatened to kill you if I told you.

ARCHIVIST/TIM

What?!

MARTIN

You wanted to know why I had a second tape recorder? That’s why. I didn’t—it was just him and me in his office and I don’t have any proof, so I thought…i-if I keep one with me, if anything like this ever happens again, I can record it and I can…I don’t know. It made sense in my head.

TIM

But to kill…do you think he really would?

MARTIN

Without a moment’s hesitation. It wouldn’t be the first time, either.

TIM

Jesus fucking Christ.

ARCHIVIST

[Incredibly shaken] All right, let’s—let’s discuss this later. Above ground, maybe. Where there’s light. And when we’re not…when we’re away from the worms.

Is there someplace safe we can discuss this? Is here safe?

MARTIN

I think so. It’s more of a strain for me to See down here, and I am down here, so I think if Elias has a way of spying on us, it doesn’t work well down here.

TIM

It’s a strain for all of us to see down here. There aren’t any lights.

MARTIN

That’s…not exactly what I meant.

ARCHIVIST

We’ll add that to the list. I promised only one more question for now.

Let’s just get out of here.

TIM

Lead on, Macduff.

ARCHIVIST

It’s “Lay on, Macduff,” actually. And that doesn’t—

MARTIN/TIM

Shut up, Jon.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[FIRE ALARM BLARING IN THE BACKGROUND, SOUND OF WORMS SQUIRMING]

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Ugh—shit! Watch your step!

SASHA

I can see them, thank you.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Great! Glad to hear it. Can you see where we’re supposed to go?

SASHA

It’s not like there’s a map. I don’t spend a lot of time in the maintenance areas of the Institute, but the boiler room should be—

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Who’s there?

SASHA

Elias!

ELIAS

Sasha. What are you still doing in here? You need to get out.

SASHA

The fire suppressant system—is it active? Did you find the switch?

ELIAS

There’s no point, I’m afraid.

SASHA

What? What do you mean?

ELIAS

[Almost pityingly] You can see how fast these worms are spreading. If they are truly as dangerous as Jon and Martin have believed them to be—and I regret to say I no longer have reason to doubt them—then they would not have come up here if there was any reason for them to still be in the basement.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

[Softly, somewhat panicked] No, no, no…

ELIAS

I’ve been trying to get to the boiler room since we were separated, but at this point, that is not the optimal course of action. We need professional help.

The fire brigade will have specialized equipment, and as soon as I get outside, I can call the ECDC as well, but for now, you need to complete the evacuation so they don’t need to worry about you when they get here. I cannot condone wasting lives trying to save the dead.

SASHA

What?! No! You don’t know they’re dead—

ELIAS

Sasha, if by some miracle they are still alive, how do you think they will react if they get rescued only to learn that you died in the attempt? Would you really be so cruel as to force them to live knowing you died painfully and unnecessarily—because of them?

SASHA

[Angrily] Don’t. Don’t you dare.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Get out of the way, old man.

ELIAS

I’m sorry, who are you? This is a private—

[SOUND OF FIST STRIKING FLESH. ELIAS YELLS IN AGONY]

SASHA

Come on!

[RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, ECHOING SLIGHTLY]

SASHA

I can’t believe you just hit him.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

I can apologize later if your job is on the line.

SASHA

Are you kidding? I’ve wanted to do that for years. Never thought anyone would ever actually do it.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Yeah, well, he was trying to stop us getting down here, and I don’t believe for a minute it was out of concern for your safety.

Boiler room, you said?

SASHA

Yes. Here it is.

[DOOR OPENS. PIPES HISS IN THE BACKGROUND. THE FIRE ALARM IS A LITTLE FAINTER HERE]

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Shit, that’s a lot.

SASHA

There! There’s the override panel. We just need to find the right one…

Of course they aren’t labeled. Of course not. That ought to be il—ouch!

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

You okay?

SASHA

It bit me! Jesus, I didn’t think you could feel a spider bite…

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Where?

SASHA

Here.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

No, I mean, where’s the spider?

SASHA

Right there.

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE

Ah, there you are, you little bastard.

[CRUNCH OF FOOTSTEPS, RATTLE OF PIPE, GRUNT OF EFFORT]

[Low growl dripping with contempt] Mother, may I?

[THUNK OF A LEVER BEING THROWN]

[LOW HISSING NOISE]

[CLICK]