#he saw me bandaging my feet after walking a fair amount one of the days and he was kind of horrified

[cookinguptales]

just saw a person online talking about how they have EDS and that's why they get "cigarette paper scars" and I googled and like

do you mean to tell me that everyone doesn't have these

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 2:

You never end up getting a text from Kirishima.

The following night, when you return from your shift at the hospital, what you find waiting for you instead is a gift basket. It’s filled to the brim with boxes of food, and packets of tea, a few dishtowels, and, surprisingly enough? A job offer.

Thank you for saving one of our own. The attached note reads. Due to your impressive quirk and quick thinking, we’d like to offer you a spot on our medical team. The Hero Public Safety Commission would love to utilize your talents. Call at the number listed for more information. We’ll be waiting.

You think the note sounds a little ominous, if you’re being completely honest. While it’s a nice offer, and one you’ll probably at least ask a few questions about, was the ‘We’ll be waiting’ really a necessary addition to the note? It makes the whole message read as an order, not a suggestion, and that makes your stomach uneasy. 

The knowledge that they know about your quirk sits a little heavy too. You’d always tried to keep a tight lid on your power; only using it when absolutely necessary for as long as you could remember. You didn’t like digging into people’s brains, and you knew that it was an easy power to exploit if left in the wrong hands.

People felt pain for a reason. You knew that better than anybody.

Still, you did end up calling the number, and you did end up accepting the offer. As uncomfortable a reason as it was, the money was undeniable. The local hospital’s salaries just couldn’t compete.

You were quickly reassigned to a hospital in the center of Musutafu, and it was a bit of a culture shock. You’d always lived on the outskirts, and the villian presence there was laughable in comparison to the inner city. Suddenly, you were extremely busy, nearly constantly drowning in work and people who needed your help, but you didn’t mind. You’d always been passionate about being a nurse, and now you felt fulfilled in ways you hadn’t before.

All in all, you considered Bakugou a strange blessing. He might’ve been rude, and violent, and just generally pretty unpleasant when you first met him, but you didn’t hold it against him. If you really thought about it, you were nothing but grateful- well, as grateful as you could be to a guy who bled all over your apartment and then never talked to you again. 

Still, you always wondered if he was alright. As much as you tried to forget about it entirely, you couldn’t wipe that night from your mind. When you took his pain, you were nearly winded by the anger and terror he felt. It was more than just shock, more than just fear over his injuries- it was something lasting, developed, something he’d been struggling with for a long time. A feeling that intense was hard to forget.

It was nearly three months before you saw him again.

Your day had been hectic, as it nearly always was. There had been a villian attack near a residential subdivision, and while the casualties were few, there were innumerous injured civilians. The entire day had been spent rushing between rooms, splinting broken limbs, applying casts, and evaluating for concussions. You were exhausted, nearly dead on your feet, when one of your superiors pulled you away.

“We need your quirk.” She says, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Excuse me?”

“We need your quirk. We’ve got a special guest, and we need it as painless an experience for him as possible. It’s the least we could do for him.” 

“Oh? Um, okay? Who is it?”

She doesn’t answer, just spins on her heels and motions for you to follow. Your superior walks fast, leading you down winding hallways and past operating rooms, all the way down to the small luxury wing. You know what you’re in for now- a hero. 

Your hospital had treated a lot of injured pro-heroes in the past, but you’d never been chosen to help before. You mostly stayed in the general part, assisting with the civilians heroes saved instead of the pro’s themselves. You briefly wondered why you were chosen- you figured whoever it was had to be pretty important if they wanted you to take away his pain entirely.

“Take your time with him, he’s your last patient. I know your shift’s not over, but, trust me, all you’ll want to do is go home after treating him. So be grateful for the time off.” Is all your superior says, pushing you through a door. “ Alright. Good luck.”

Then she shuts the door behind her, leaving you with whatever problem-child she was mentioning- and what a problem-child he is.

One look at blonde hair and red eyes and you realize your earlier assumption was wrong. You weren’t chosen to make his experience as painless as possible- you were chosen to make the hospital’s experience as painless as possible. 

Still, you’ll push through it. You’re tired, but that doesn’t mean Bakugou’s injuries should be ignored. Upon first look, you notice gauze around his forearm and one of his knees. When he turns his head, he’s got a shallow cut spanning across his temple, and of his fingers looks oddly blue and swollen. All things considered, at least it’ll be a quick visit. You’re fairly confident it’s not gonna be anything more than stitches and maybe a finger splint for him.

“Alright, first things first, any other injuries I should know about? Besides the obvious ones, I mean.” You say, pulling over a cart and taking the blood pressure cuff from it. You start taking his vitals, smiling up at him from where he’s sat on top the hospital bed. “Secondly, it’s nice to see you again. I’m glad you’re not unconscious this time.”

“Excuse me? The hell are you on about?”

“Wait, do you not remember me?”

“Nah, ‘m fuckin’ supposed to?” He bristles, his shoulders tensing up. “You a fan of mine or some shit?”

You roll your eyes- you’d always sort of naively hoped he was more pleasant when not gravely injured, but you’re quickly realizing that not’s the case. Bakugou is prickly. Prickly, prickly, prickly.

“No. Not exactly a fan.” You answer him coyly, moving to rinse your hands clean at the sink. You slip on a pair of latex gloves, gather some antiseptic, some gauze, and your stitching kit, and then you turn back to him. “You might not remember it, especially considering your head wound that night, but three months ago you crash landed on my balcony.”

Bakugou blinks, once, twice, and then he’s red in the face and screaming.

“You! Fuckin’ you!” He roars, lips pulled back over his sharp canines. “You were in my goddamn head! Fuckin’ witch.”

“Okay. Well, yeah, you’re technically correct- but that’s not a very nice way to thank me for saving you. And it’s a quirk, not witchcraft.” You reiterate, nearing him with the antiseptic wipes. Bakugou recoils back, slapping your hand away lightly. You’re entirely unimpressed at his actions. “Calm down, I’m not going to use my quirk on you; at least, not without your explicit permission. I’m just here to stitch you up.”

He just huffs, nostrils flaring as he glares down at you.

“Have you ever gotten stitches before?” You ask. 

A part of you is aware the question is kind of dumb, especially considering his career, but you figure you should ask anyway. In your experience, patients generally receive treatment a lot better if you talk them through it.

“Yeah.” He answers. “Not while fuckin’ lucid though.”

 “Alright, that’s fine. We can work with that. But, that means you must not get hurt a lot then, huh?”

“Nah. Never.” 

Bakugou’s voice is proud, and when you look up at him, he’s smirking. You think that expression is only mildly less irritating then his grimace- but, maybe he’ll finally let you take a look at his arm now. You decide to try, your hands nearing the bandages around his forearm, but he smacks you away again.

“Bakugou. Stop. I need to take a look, alright? That’s what you’re here for, so let me do my job. I won’t use my quirk on you, I promise.” You tell him earnestly, holding his gaze steadfastly. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to, alright? I’ve got gloves on and it doesn’t work without skin-to-skin contact. So, could you please calm down for me?”

Bakugou’s eye twitches.

“Fine. But I’m fuckin’ watching you.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“I am.”

“I know. I’m not arguing with you.” You retort calmly.

You point at the cart, sighing in relief when he finally complies to your wishes. He sets his forearm flat on top of it, and you watch him wince slightly. There’s cloth and gauze wrapped around it, blood soaking through the makeshift bandage. You peel the material away gently, revealing a fairly large cut. The wound’s not very deep, thankfully, but it slices almost to the inside of his elbow. It is going to need a fair amount of stitches, but luckily most of the active bleeding seems to have stopped.

“Alright,” You start, catching his gaze. “This doesn’t look too bad, but it might scar.”

“No fuckin’ shit. Dumbass.”

“Bakugou, take a breath for me. I didn’t mean any harm by the comment, okay? I’m just doing my job and being honest with you.”

“I don’t need your fuckin’ honesty.”

“No, maybe not, but you do need me to stitch you up.” You try to keep your voice level, treat him delicately even as he fights you with every breath. It’s challenging work, but no more strenuous than any other difficult patient you’ve ever dealt with. “Alright, so I’m gonna clean around the wound, apply some local anesthetic, and then stitch you up. Sound good?”

“I don’t need the goddamn step by step, I’m not a fuckin’ kid. So just get on with it already.”

“I’m just trying to be accomodating.” You reply with a sigh. You take his forearm gently, working around the wound with an antiseptic wipe. You hear him suck in a breath. “Sorry. I’m sure it probably stings.” 

“Don’t pity me.”

“It’s- I’m not.” You can’t help but sigh in slight frustration. It’s normally a reaction you’d try to cut short, but Bakugou’s being needlessly rude- you think he deserves to hear it. “Look, I was trying to be professional, and normally I’d never say this, but I’m- I’m not being paid to argue with you, alright? I’m just here to fix you up. So, if you’d rather me just stay silent while I do that, that’s perfectly fine. Just say so. I won’t be offended.”

“Good. Shut the fuck up then.”

Irritation flares in your chest, but you do your best to breathe through it. He’s far from the most difficult patient you’ve ever had, but something about his clipped words and guarded expression has you just as annoyed. You think it might be his eyes- the way they seem to always be tracking you, zeroing in on any and all possible flaws. 

Still, you try to ignore his attitude anyways, and it becomes a little easier as you focus back on dressing the wound, finishing up with the antiseptic wipes and moving on to the anesthetic. You almost consider lathering the numbing gel on while it’s still freezing cold, but you quickly decide against letting his bad attitude interfere with your job performance. You don’t want to sink to his idiotic level. 

You’re warming the gel packet in your palm, rubbing to create friction and heat, when he speaks again.

“You can skip that.”

“Yeah. I could. But I won’t- it generally makes the whole process a lot smoother if you can’t feel every stitch.” You say simply, tearing the gel packet open. “Sorry in advance if it’s still cold, I tried to warm it up a bit.”

“I’ll be fuckin’ fine.”

“I’m sure you will. Still though, most people flinch, so I figured I’d warn you anyways.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything in response, just flares his nostrils as you spread the anesthetic over his arm. True to your words, he does flinch at first, and that only seems to piss him off more. You can’t really see his face from where you’re hunched over his forearm, but you’re sure he’s probably scowling. You wait a few moments for the gel to activate, and then you’re opening your kit and lacing thread through your needle. Thankfully your arm feels steady today, and it’s easy work as you begin stitching up his wound. 

Bakugou’s a pretty good patient. Surprisingly. He breathes quietly through his teeth, fist clenched as he tries so very hard not to admit his discomfort. He actually reminds you a lot of the children you so often treat. 

You find an easy rhythm sewing him up, your fingers gently prodding his arm as you work. You do your best to be delicate, treating him just as gently as you would any other patient- even if he irritated you. When you look up at him, Bakugou just traps his bottom lip between his teeth and creases his eyebrows. Those same red eyes study you again, almost looking right through you. You hold eye contact for as long as you can stand, but under his intense gaze it’s less than a few seconds.

“Alright. Almost done.” You mutter softly, dropping your eyes back down to his arm. You resume your stitching, eyebrows drawn together in concentration. “Thanks for keeping still for me.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” He grumbles, but his voice is a little softer now. He seems almost calmer, none of the bite from earlier coating his words. “Nothin’ special.”

“No, really. I mean it. You wouldn’t believe how much harder it is to treat somebody who’s panicking.”

“It wouldn’t be difficult if you weren’t such a shitty nurse.”

“If you didn’t want to be treated by me, you could’ve asked for somebody else. But you didn’t.” You comment easily, taking the kit’s scissors and cutting the thread. “You really missed your chance- could’ve caused a whole scene, Bakugou.”

“No thanks.”

“Wow, and here I thought you actively enjoyed making as big a scene as possible. Guess not.” You can’t help but tease, smiling slightly. “Or did you just want an excuse to come and bleed all over me again?”

“That’s- no. Shut up. You’re annoying.” Bakugou barks, blushing slightly as he turns his head away. “Fuckin’ witch.” 

“You really shouldn’t call me names when I’m the one treating your wounds.”

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want. And you started it, fuckin’ pryin’ around in my head.” 

“I wasn’t prying.” You tell him, turning away as you grab new gauze and bandages. “I was bringing you out of shock. I’m sure you don’t remember, but you were threatening to blow my entire apartment up.”

“No! I wasn’t! You just wanted to fuckin’-”

“Wanted to what? Help you? Stabilize your condition? Make sure you didn’t die out on my balcony?” You press the gauze carefully over his stitches, making sure none of the sutures catch on the cloth. “Yeah. Guess I did want to do that.” 

“Still shouldn’t a fuckin’ done it.”

“Okay, well I did, and I’m still sorry if it felt invasive. Believe me, I wouldn’t have done it unless it was absolutely necessary.”  You tell him honestly, trying to catch his gaze even as he avoids looking at you. “And, it was months ago, you know? So no point holding a grudge. Especially since I’ll probably be seeing a lot more of you from now on.”

“What, you think I’m gonna get myself killed again? Fat fuckin’ chance. I’m not that fucking weak.”

“Are you always this defensive?” You ask him, wrapping the bandages gently around his arm. “I meant, this hospital’s the main center for relief efforts, alright; so even if you try to avoid me, we’re bound to see each other if you ever end up back here for whatever reason. I wasn’t insinuating that you’d definitely get hurt again.”

“Fuckin’ sounded like it.”

“I didn’t mean for it to.”

“Yeah whatever. Pick up the goddamn pace.” He rolls his eyes, dramatically swinging his hurt leg up onto the table. You’re sure it has to hurt, but Bakugou keeps his pride. He doesn’t even wince. “My leg’s not gonna fix itself. Get the fuck to it already.”

“Okay, alright. You got it.”

Luckily, you don’t have to cut the material of his hero costume away just yet. His pants are already torn, thin, scattered slices exposing his leg all the way to the tops of his thighs. When you take a look at his knee, you’re not pleased with what you find.

Removing the gauze unearths a strange web of metal shards sticking out of his skin. They don’t seem to be stuck worryingly deep, but there’s a lot of them and some of them are quite large. You’re gonna need to pluck them all out, and give stitches for the big ones. Your short visit with Bakugou just got a lot longer.

“Alright. So this is gonna take some time, but the good news is, nothing is actively bleeding on your knee.” You tell him. “So, I’m thinking I’m gonna sew up the cut on your forehead first, alright? Head wounds bleed a lot more. That should be taken care of first.”

“Fuck are you tellin’ me, for? Your job, you do it.”

“Oh- yeah. Sorry.” You apologize. “Guess I’m used to treating kids. Lots of mom’s hanging around and asking questions, you know?”

“No. ‘m not a fuckin’ nurse.”

“No, you are not.” You breathe out, hardly able to keep the sarcastic tone out of your voice. “Okay, I’m gonna need you to lie back for me.”

He grumbles, but falls back anyways. You sigh in relief, grateful for his acquiescence. You honestly thought you’d have to fight with him about that.

You begin the process all over again- cleaning, applying gel, and then stitching the wound close. Bakugou doesn’t say anything while you work, but he does let his eyes flutter shut. He kept them open at first, staring you down relentlessly, but eventually he doesn’t seem to like all the unintentional eye-contact as you lean over him. You think it’s strange- the way he seems to melt into the hospital bed even as you’re sewing up his forehead. You begin to realize that his day was probably just as long as yours, if not longer.

You fall into an easy rhythm again, and time passes peacefully before you know it.

“You almost done?” He peeks an eye open, voice gravelly when he speaks.

“Yep. Almost. Just one more up here and then we can move on to your knee.”

“You can move on to my knee. I’m not doin’ shit.”

“Oh my,” You mutter under your breath, cutting the thread with your scissors. You clear your throat before speaking again. “So are you always this difficult with the other nurses?”

“No. Only the dipshits who go diggin’ around in my fuckin’ head.”

“Well, I only have to dig when people threaten to blow up my apartment.”

Bakugou doesn’t seem to have a response to that. He just closes his eyes and huffs through his nose, ending the conversation entirely.

That’s fine with you- if he wants to stay quiet, you’re not complaining.

It’s quiet as you begin working on his knee, nothing but the soft metallic clink of your tools and Bakugou’s own breaths. You think it’s a strange sort of calm, but also a little nice too. You’d been worked to the bone all day, rushing and scrambling and giving instructions- it was nice to just sit back and focus on one thing at a time.

You think Bakugou must feel it too, because when you look up at him he’s still lying back. He’s got his head pressed back into the pillow, his uninjured arm thrown over his eyes while the injured one lies across his stomach. His index finger is still blue, but not any more blue than it was when he walked in. You’re not sure how he’s managing to look so relaxed, despite being in what you guessed was a fair amount of pain.

You wonder what kind of day he had that made his hospital visit out to be the most relaxing part. You try not to think about it too long- try not to fit that anger and terror you felt into a make-believe narrative.

“Alright. That around does it for that.” You say softly, wrapping a bandage around his knee. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened? With the metal- it doesn’t look like any shrapnel I’ve ever seen before.”

“It’s not.” He drops his hand from across his face, voice deeper and slower than before. Groggy almost. “Fucker had a metal quirk. Shattered a car right next to me.”

“Oh. That really doesn’t sound fun. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Don’t apologize for stupid shit.”

You find that oddly ironic- pretty much your entire job was apologizing and showing understanding for things that weren’t your fault. You decide there and then, without a single shadow of a doubt, Bakugou would make the worst nurse in the world. Far shittier than you, no matter what he said.

“All that’s left now is your finger.” You say, grabbing at his hand gently. “Sorry if this hurts, but I’ve gotta feel and see if it’s broken. I’m fairly sure it’s sprained, but just in case.”

“Whatever.”

“Wow, no fight? None at all?” You joke, applying as gentle pressure as you could to his finger. “You tired or something?”

Bakugou just nods, letting his eyes shut once more.

Up close again, you notice the circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin. His face doesn’t even contort as you prod at his finger, and it almost breaks your heart when you realize how high his pain tolerance must be. The only way he’d be able to be even half as calm as he currently was, was if he was getting hurt like that on the regular. Which, you figure, probably comes with the job description in his case- but the thought still flooded you with sympathy anyway.

“All good, just a pretty severe sprain.” You tell him. “Now, metal splint or dressings? Your choice.”

“Dressings.”

You squint a little bit, at him. You’re pretty sure a metal splint would be easier, and more convenient, but he looks pretty sure in his choice. You shrug, figuring that you did give him the choice for a reason. Maybe he just finds dressings more comfortable.

You dig out an ace bandage from your medical cart, setting it on the hospital bed as Bakugou sits up. He still looks a little tired, breaths slow and even as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. You figure he must suffering a pretty serious adrenaline crash- if he’s not, then you’re not sure what the attitude change is about. He just looks so calm, so quiet that you almost can’t place him as the same angry guy you’d been faced with earlier. 

You unwind the bandage, taking his hand into yours. His palms are strange, calloused and tough, unnatural heat radiating off of them. It’s a little hard to ignore, but you figure it’s just his quirk, so you press on without comment. You’re pressing his index and middle fingers together, half-way through wrapping the bandage around them when he speaks.

“Too lose. Do it again.”

“It’s not loose, I promise. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s loose.” He says again, more insistently this time. “Do it again.”

“Okay.” You sigh, figuring that starting over entirely would still somehow take less time than fighting with him. “But just this once, alright? As an apology for ‘digging around’ in your head.” 

Bakugou just nods tightly. 

When you start again, you try a different approach. You’d been trying to avoid touching him earlier, to soothe his worries about your quirk, but you start to think that maybe it caused your splinting to suffer. You decide to just go about it normally this time, grabbing his wrist and flipping it upwards just like you usually would. Bakugou seems to stiffen for a moment, but then he’s huffing a breath and lolling his head forward to his chest. You watch his eyes flutter shut.

You think that’s a strange reaction. You really expected him to put up more of a fuss about your touching him- he doesn’t though, and you take the little win. Chalk it up to just how tired he seems to be.

“There- you’re all done now.” You say quietly, pressing the adhesive side of the bandage into place. “Everything feel good? Need anything else?”

He shakes his head, blinking his eyes open blearily. If you didn’t know any better, you really would’ve thought he’d fallen asleep while you were caring for him. Well, you figure, guess that makes twice now that’s nearly passed out beneath your fingers.

You think that’s pretty funny, but you keep it to yourself. Bakugou seems to be feeling relatively pleasant, and you don’t want to jinx it.

“Alright, so concerning the splint, wear it for at least a few weeks, and then take it from there, alright? And all the stitches are dissolvable except for the ones in your arm. Those ones will need to come out in about a week or so, but that’s a super simple procedure. You could probably get them removed in the med-wing at your complex. No need for a follow-up her-”

“No. I’ll be here.”

“You don’t have to. I can just write up some instructions and send you back, no problem. Really, it’s-’

“I said I’d be here, so I’ll fuckin’ be here.” He grumbles, clearing his throat. Bakugou averts his gaze, turning towards the window to avoid your eyes. “You did the stitches so you take them out. You’re not gonna fuckin’ get away with cuttin’ corners on me.” 

“Yeah. Okay. Whatever you want, I guess.” You say, a bit unsurely. “So I’ll see you in a week or so, alright? Somebody’ll give you a call.”

“Whatever.”

Bakugou then hops down from the bed, and you wince at the sound of his impact. You’d seen his knee first-hand, and you imagined that it probably hurt a lot to walk on it. He seemed unaffected though, shouldering his weight without fuss and hardly even limping as he walks out. The only sign he’s even slightly in pain, is the grunt that leaves him when he accidentally tries the door handle with his injured hand. 

He’s so quick that you can’t even ask him if he wants crutches or not. The thought hardly even enters your head before he slams the door shut behind him.

--/--

taglist:  @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3

[heaven-with-mark]

"long day."

it had been... too long of a day. far too long. too many disastrous things. being cat-called simply for being an omega. being eyed up and down just walking by people, their gaze making you uncomfortable as you tried to hurriedly get away. there was a lot of driving done, driving all over just trying to figure stuff out. stops by the phone store to change plans, having to pop into the pet store to grab dogfood for chica and henry, and mark wanted a few things from the store while you were out. 

you were dragging your feet to the front door, grocery bag full of mark’s thing seemingly so much heavier than it really was. the door was unlocked when you tried the handle, much to your delight. you didn’t want to bother fishing your keychain back out of your pocket. there was a moment of peaceful silence after the door clicked shut behind you, then: chaos. 

chica bolted to the door and nearly knocked you down, and then immediately after, the sound of glass shattering in the kitchen followed, and then to top it off, henry got too playful with the bag you were holding and the bottom of it ripped, spilling the contents to the floor.

you shoved chica off you with more force than you wanted, and she backed away with her tail tucked between her legs like she was in trouble. henry flinched back when chica was pushed, leaving you to the mess he had made on the floor. 

it took one long, deep breath and a moment of eyes closed before you got to picking all of the items up, barely able to carry everything in your arms. you toted your alphas things into the kitchen, where he was standing at the edge looking down at the floor. setting things down as you peeked over the counter, you had to clench your jaw when you saw one of the coffee mugs shattered across the entirety of the hardwood. 

panic flooded you on instinct at the sight of drops of blood dribbled on the floor, your head shooting up to look at mark because it had to be from him. his left hand was wrapped up in a towel, clutched tightly with the other. mark looked at you, giving you a nervous look.

you forgot about all else, just worried about taking care of your wounded alpha.

“move the towel.” you asked softly, cupping his hand in both of yours.

he let you move the towel, and his cut was worse than you hoped for. it spanned from the juncture between this thumb and index finger, running along the underside of his hand to just under his pinky. blood welled dark and red as soon as it was uncovered, indicating it was deeper than you thought. 

mark caught on to your distressed scent before you did. you always got the worst panic whenever he was even remotely injured, even if it was just a tiny scratch. this wound was worth worrying so much over, and he knew that. 

“baby, i’m sure it’ll be fine.” he tried to calm you down, the distress coming from you was making more of the alpha side of his front.

you ignored him, “go to the bathroom and wash this off, i’ll be in there in a second to wrap it.”

he scoffed, not used to the fact that his omega was very clearly giving him an order.

the look you gave him in response would have put him six feet under. he mumbled something you couldn’t quite catch as he made his way to the downstairs bathroom, but you didn’t ask him to repeat it, you had to clean up this mess before you could do anything else.

you fetched the broom from the hall closet, careful while sweeping up the shattered porcelain. despite having shoes on and being safe from the shards, you didn’t want any pieces to get stuck and end up tracked around the house.

sweeping the broken mug into the dustpan, you sighed heavy through your nose. of course there was going to be more to do when you got home, there always was with your clumsy alpha.

you dumped the dustpan, putting it and the broom away after so you could go tend to mark. the water wasn’t running anymore, but when you got to the doorway, you found him pulling out all of the things you’d need to clean him up. 

“there, you can do this now, will you please calm down?” he pleaded, instincts making him worried because of the heavy scent that rolled off you. 

“i’ll calm down when i’m done.” you snapped, unintentionally giving him the first indication you weren’t okay right now. 

he stayed silent while you tended to him, stood between his legs. you put down neosporin, then a layer of gauze, and finished it off with wrapping a bandage around his hand a few times, trying to wrap it where he could still use his hand. you gave his hand a look-over, making sure everything fit snug and right.

“baby, it’s fine, you did a good job.” he praised, pulling you closer with his arms around you, holding you tight.

you let him hold you for a second, his face tucked into your neck as he crooned and tried desperately to calm you down. having a second for the first time that day to just sit and not doing anything, you realized just how tired you were. your bones themselves felt heavy, your feet ached. as helpless as you were against it, your eyes drooped. 

“omega.” mark murmured, pulling himself away.

you opened your eyes, confused. you forgot the last time he called you by your dynamic.

“are you okay?” he asked, doing a cute little head tilt that caught you off guard for a second. 

you just shrugged. you didn’t want to lie to him, but you didn’t want to talk about it. not right now. you didn’t have anything to hide but if you tried venting, you were absolutely going to start crying. and you know he knew you too well, he knew the exact same as you did.

he sat and stared at you for a second, probably thinking.

“i want you to go upstairs and change into comfy clothes,” he stood up and gently guided you backwards, “and i’ll clean up the glass.”

you stopped him before he even got to the doorway, “i already cleaned it up, babe.”

he gave you a look that mothers scold their children with. but, you didn’t want to stick around for him to get on you for cleaning his mess. you’d just blame it on omega instinct telling you to ‘serve your alpha and clean up after him’. you pushed past him and trotted upstairs, planning on putting comfy clothes on before he even asked you to.

you were in sweats and one of his hoodies, tucked under the blanket when mark finally came upstairs. you mentally prepared yourself, knowing he was going to make you talk. he hated you being upset, and as much as you didn’t want to talk, the two of you both knew it would make you feel better. 

although, you did already feel a little better after getting comfortable. most of it came from wearing mark’s hoodie that was drenched in his scent, and naturally it calmed you down. 

he stopped in the doorway, loving the fact you were in his hoodie, loving how small you looked with it on. 

you stretched your arms out, making grabby hands and purring. you wanted to just cuddle and forget about today, and he wasn’t helping with just standing and staring. 

he ducked into bed, scooping you into his arms, “oh my perfect, precious little omega.”

you loved the praise but still felt flushed upon hearing it, not the type of person who could accept compliments easily. 

“now, baby, you gotta tell me what happened today.” mark said, leaving no room for arguing.

tears sprung to your eyes from simply thinking about it. you cuddle up closer, feeling a little more at ease with the deep rumbles almost vibrating through his chest as he started crooning in your ear again.

“well... there was a lot of alphas and jerk betas at the store today... you know that didn’t end well. got cat-called and stared at. had to run around town all day, popping into a bunch of shops. your stuff is on the counter,” you had to pause and take a breather before remembering something, “shit! the dogfood is still in the car!”

mark didn’t like the idea of other men, other alphas too, even looking in your direction, let alone making snide comments towards you. he was always one to be possessive. but, for now, he wouldn’t do anything about it. usually he’d spend a fair amount of time, hours usually, scenting you. he would mark you up often, which you displeased of. but, for now in this moment, his cloak hoodie drenching you in his scent would be enough for him. it even covered almost all of your scent.

“i’m so sorry you had a bad day sweetheart.” mark cooed, holding you tighter as he kissed your forehead.

he followed up, “do you want me to make you something to eat? do you wanna watch tv? do you want to shower? either alone or with me, it’s always your choice.”

you just shook your head, purring into his chest quietly, a strong wave of your happy scent drifting around the room.

“just wanna sleep. i’m exhausted.” you yawned, eyes fluttering shut as mark pulled the blankets over the two of you. 

he stroked a hand through your hair for awhile, and you fought to stay awake. as tired as you were, you adored the feeling of being so close to your alpha. the crooning, his soft touch, his scent, how warm he always was. you never wanted moments like these to end. 

you were startled awake and halfway out of your skin when one of the dogs jumped onto the bed, landing just shy of your foot. your head shot up to see what scared the hell out of you, and mark shushed you and pulled you back down to him.

the sudden bitter scent of a scared omega was pungent even to you, and you had grown used to your own scent. it must be so bad for mark, his instinct had to be yelling at him to do something. 

chica settled down just behind mark, and you closed your eyes, trying to calm your mile-a-minute heart. you shoved your face into mark’s chest, letting his scent and warmth do wonders to your inner omega. it did take awhile for your heart to settle, but once it did, you couldn’t keep yourself awake this time. you slowly drifted off, lulled to sleep only with the presence and touch of your alpha.

//feel better bb @marks-right-tibby//

[jordanstrophe]

Be a Good guest, collab part 6

CW: Whump, held captive, cutting implied, choking, restraining, forced to mildly strip(nonsexual, at all) *inhales* Parental, possessive, controlling, intimate, creepy whumper 

YAY! I finally got around to doing the colllaaab :D @whumpasaurus101 Thank you for being patient with me <3

Pheonix’s masterlist -  Gabriel’s masterlist

Previous chapter

“Oh sweetheart I missed you so much!” Walter chirped, pinching Gabriel’s cheeks and planting a kiss on his forehead. Gabriel just stood still and took it, his arms hanging limp at his sides. 

“Mateo! Thank you so much for taking care of him while I was gone. Was he any trouble?” He asked, taking Gabriel’s arm and pulling him to stand by his side.

“Supongo, he was good enough. You’re got quite a fun one on your hands.” Mateo gave him a concerning smirk, his eyes darting to the car where Pheonix was bound with a belt at his wrists hanging from the handle.  

“A-... A fun one?” 

Gabriel wasn’t quiet, er... “fun” as he would describe it. Watching and caring for a young boy was lots of hard work and dedication! They were fragile little objects that could easily be broken if not cared for properly. He glanced down at Gabriel, who was frozen in place like a frightened cat stuck in a tree. “We have to go. Come, Gabriel.” Walter said, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs. 

“Ay! Before you leave, are you sure you gave me every detail about what happened with my mi amore’s escape?” Mateo spat with accusation. Walter slowed his pace for only a moment. 

“I told you everything I saw.” He cranked his head around just enough for one cold eye to burn contact. Mateo’s eyes narrowed, trying to find these ‘lightbulbs' of lies Walter described, but he could see none. 

“Doesn’t matter anyway. He’s your boy, deal with him.” He turned his back and left before Mateo could say any more. He sighed as he walked to the vehicle, watching Pheonix squirm around in the seat at his approach. He ripped the car door open, placing a foot against the car steps with an elbow resting on the doorframe looming over him. 

“Some stunt you pulled back there, did you enjoy your little recreo?”

<><>

Walter marched Gabriel back to their hotel room. They were supposed to be driving back to the cabin by now… But something was wrong with Gabriel. He wasn’t acting like his usual self. Walter shut and locked the door behind him. 

“Gabriel, take your shirt off.” He instructed. He could hear Gabriel let off a horrified gasp in terror.

“WHY! I-I di-didn’t do anyth-thing wrong!” Gabriel was quick to wrap his arms defensive against his chest. He fought back his tears… It wasn’t fair! Mateo was cruel and heartless, he didn’t have a choice but to be used and abused.

Just.. N-not the belt… Not again! It hadn’t even been a day! It wasn’t fair… None of this was fair!

“I know! I know you didn’t, little dove. I’m not going to hurt you. You are not being punished, okay?” He said, moving closer to place a hand on his cheek. Gabriel violently flinched at his approaching hand, like he was dodging an attacking blow. 

“Ga-Gabriel!” Walter hissed with offence. “Why are you acting this way? What happened?!” He asked. Gabriel didn’t dare face him after getting yelled at, getting more and more frightened. Walter took a deep breath, before as calm as he could order, “Shirt. Off. Now. Or I will take it all off myself.” 

Gabriel’s face burned red as he turned his head away, slowly fumbling to undo each and every tiny pearly button. Water’s eyes grew even more skeptical when he realized that wasn’t even his shirt… It looked like the one Pheonix was wearing on the first day of the restaurant! Why was he-?

His thoughts were cut off as the white shirt slipped off his shoulders, fluttering to the floor. Two deep cuts ran down his chest, he could no longer hide the bloody bandaged wrist with the long sleeve. 

Walter’s face went pale. Then red with anger. He quickly turned his head away as he took deep breaths, cooling his temper. 

He wanted to loom down the hallway right back to Mateo and rip his throat from his neck. 

Leave nothing behind but a ruined corpse.

A crippled husk of death.

He took another deep breath. Gabriel came first. He would always come first.

His eyes shot open as his mind was back to earth. Gabriel was covering his chest with his arms tucked up as he cried with his head turned away. “Sit down on the bed, sweetheart.” He said, with a voice calm enough to lull a frightened rabbit.

Walter took both his wrists and pulled them up so he could see his chest. He could see them clearly now, running deep and neglected. Blood that had dripped was left to dry in streaks down his chest. 

He had to swallow down his anger once more. “How badly does it hurt?” He asked. Gabriel let out a sad little whimper as he kept trying to pull his wrists down, which was enough for Walter to know he was hurting. 

Gabriel’s head fell forward as his forehead claimed his shoulder, Walter instantly pulled him in as he held his crying child. His sobs were heart-breaking to his ears… His poor darling didn’t deserve this! “It’s okay… You’re okay, my little dove. No one is going to hurt you anymore.” He whispered.

He took a warm cloth and cleaned up the blood, taking out a long bandage strip and tended to what was neglected. He took his hand, turning it over and running his fingers over it. Seems that Mateto already treated whatever happened here, but he didn’t trust anything he had done. 

Not anymore.

Never again.

“What happened, little dove?” Walter asked, as Gabriel automatically leaned against his shoulder with a sniffle. “He t-took me to the restaurant.” He quietly explained. “-To your wrist, darling.” Walter stopped him, crouching in front of him. Gabriel’s eyes widened as they darted down, not brave enough to make eye contact. 

“He..He took a knife...  And dr-drove it-t through-” Walter instantly shot to his feet, scaring Gabriel as he gasped and flinched back. Walter threw his coat back on and slammed his hand against the door handle.

“W-wait! Where are you going?” Gabriel squeaked. 

Walter didn't answer, or even turn around to face him. He failed Gabriel. It’s his job to protect him. He left him for thirty minutes and he comes back to… to this! This was his fault and he would never let him out of his sight ever again! But now, he had to take care of someone else. Someone else who was a threat to his dove. 

Someone who lost their privilege to live. 

<><>

Mateo unbuckled Pheonix’s restraints and grabbed his arm, ripping him from his seat, he staggered as he struggled to keep up. “Come now, don’t tell me you forgot how to walk already.” Mateo sneered. “No sir!” Pheonix yelped, as he did his best to appear obedient. 

He didn’t know what Walter had told Mateo, but he did promise him he would bring down some of his seething anger. Noah was waiting outside the hotel door, his brow raised with surprise when he noticed Pheonix getting dragged along. 

“Jefe! You found him! What happened?” Noah asked. 

“Shut it! You’re not off the hook either, Noah. I’ll deal with you later.” Mateo hissed as he pushed passed him. Noah quickly shut his lips as he took a small step back. He was given one job~ Bring Pheonix to the car and secure him and he didn’t even do that much. 

Mateo slammed the door behind him as Pheonix was kicked to the ground at his feet. “So. You wanted to come back to me, hmm?” He clicked his tongue, resting the toe of his boot against his cheek to force his head down.

“Wh-wha?” Pheonix asked, before quickly shutting his mouth. 

“Walter said you got scared and came back. That you wanted to come home, is that right? How… Interesting.” Mateo traced his jawline with his boot.  As badly as Pheonix wanted to jerk away, he was given a small amount of grace from Walter’s lies, it would be a waste to throw that away and get them both into deeper, hotter water. 

“I… I regretted it as soon as I ran.” Pheonix musters some fake sniffles in an effort to look regretful. Mateo’s eyebrow raised as his boot was replaced with his fingers wrapped around his chin before dropping an inch, tracing a nail down his neck. Pheonix let out a shaky breath as he forced himself to lie still and accept the unwanted touch. 

“My dearest mi amore, if I didn’t have anything else to go off of, your story would be a spit in my face. I have no reason to not believe Walter, but my gut-.” He takes his fist and taps his knuckles to his chest. “-Is letting me otherwise.”

His hand slammed against his neck, his head hitting the hardwood floor beneath him as his hand shot out to fight the wrist that was choking him. The first tightened as his airways were cut, he let out a choking sob as he fought for a breath, for a hint of air, anything! 

“P-nng. Ple-se…” He rasped, his head held to the floor by his own neck. Mateo’s eyes were almost blank as he stared him down, ignoring the tears that streamed down Pheonix’s face as his color changed from the lack of oxygen. 

“Ma-eo please….”

The door behind them opened as Mateo let out a huff of annoyance. “Noah! I said I would deal with you later! Get out!” He hissed.

“Is that any way to talk to your old friend?” Walter said, his voice low and unreadable. Mateo let off his grip as he spun around to see Walter. His eyes were dark but emotionless, an unreadable mist hovered over his face. 

‘’Walter! What are you doing here?” Mateo asked, rising to his feet. 

“We need to have a talk.” His eyes flashed with a spark of malevolence for only a moment, fast enough Mateo didn't catch it. Mateo smirked as he wiped his hands with a rag. Pheonix laid helplessly on the ground as he gagged and choked for air. 

“You’re kid doing alright?” 

“I told you to take care of him.” Walter hissed, as his nerve was quickly struck. He instantly took a deep breath as he became visibly calmer. 

“Come now my friend! You know how these boys work! They need to be taught respect. They are nothing but wild animals without it! You’re like me, you understand how important command and control is.” 

But you did it wrong, and you’ll burn for it. I’ll burn you until there’s nothing left for what you did.

He was mine. MINE. I trusted you with him. I trusted you with everything.

Ripping your heart from your chest would be merciful.

“Why of course I understand! We are the same indeed, my friend.” Walter’s smile was kind and sweet. So trusting and innocent. “My little dove is always the most well behaved fresh after discipline, after all. I just like it when there’s actually something to discipline, not just having “fun”.” He grinned. 

“Hah! I honestly was expecting you to be furious with me! I thought I would show you what it’s like when you put them in their place. Why wait for them to misbehave, eh?” He roughly patted Walters shoulder as he got knocked off balance.

“Leave him, come have a drink with me. There’s something I left out.” He smiled, tilting his body just enough so he could see Pheonix, giving him a small wave. Pheonix was clutching his throat as his breath was weak and wheezed, staring up at him with mistrusting eyes.

He wouldn’t… Would he? Was he taking his story back? Why?

“I’ll say, I’m not surprised. Something was fishy about your little story in the first place...” 

“Not here, come, have a drink with me.” He smiled, waving him to his room. “I’m not leaving Phoenix, he doesn’t deserve even a moment of peace. I was about to get to the whipping. ” Mateo smirked. Pheonix’s face went pale as his tears ran freely, he had no more dignity to keep anymore.

“Then bring him.” Walter shrugged, already halfway out the door. He grabbed Pheonix’s hair in an effort to catch up with him as he let out a cry, he was drug down the hall with his feet struggling behind him to gain a footing. 

“Noah! Watch the door.” He ordered as Walter pushed open the door. Gabriel was sitting on the bed as he instantly gasped and crawled back a few feet further. “No no! It’s okay sweetheart, go wait in the bathroom for just a few minutes, okay?”

He didn’t have to tell him twice as Gabriel bolted off slamming the door shut behind him. The table by the window oversaw the whole city, with two hot cups of tea sitting at each side. “Black tea, your favorite.” He smiled, extending his hand inviting him to his place. Mateo sighed as he sat down, running his fingers along the elegant golden handle of the delightful tiny teacup. His spare hand was wrenched in Pheonix’s hair as he held him at his feet against his leg roughly. 

He took a sip from the cup, Walter could always pull off the best killer tea in the house. He could feel Pheonix’s chest breathing heavily against his leg as he let out a smirk. 

Good, he should be scarred after all the trouble he caused him today... Embarrassing him was bad enough, but his biggest crime was disrespecting him. “So what’s this story? If it’s this important you drag me out here to get me all comfortable then why didn’t you say so in the first place, amigo.” His anger bubbled up from his own words as he took another sip of the tea to calm his nerves. 

He pulled a lighter from his pocket with a cigarette pack, Pheonix flinched at the loud click of the lighter sparking into flames. He already knew that cigarette would be pushed into his skin when he was done. Every second that ticked by drew him closer to the promises of pain. 

“If I’m being honest, I think Pheonix simply deserves better that you.” Walter’s smile twisted into something darker. 

“WHAT!?” Mateo’s fists slammed onto the table, as both teacups clattered and fell, spilling onto the floor.

“You… I tolerated you for long enough because I valued you as a… a-as a…” His voice trailed off after he jumped to his feet, his vision warped and spinning around the room. 

“Fr-friend...?”

When he opened his eyes as he found himself lying on the ground with his vision flipped, watching his cigarette roll across the floor out of his vision between him and Walter’s well-polished boots standing over him. 

“Wh-what did you do!?” Phoenix asked, scampering away until his back hit the wall as soon as his hair was released. 

“I drugged him.” Walter smiled proudly with a wink.

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ  Thank you for reading!

(If you would like to be removed from this laglist, please let me know)

@alien-octopus @yesthisiswhump  @lave-whump @whumpasaurus101 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hamiltonwhumpdump @just-another-whumper @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @approach-me-and-ill-cry  @whump-it @kixngiggles @as-a-matter-of-whump  @five-fictions-5-9 @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @thelazywitchphotographer  @sophierose002

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 12: Devotion of Flesh

Warnings: blood/gore, sexual themes, strong language, nipple play, needles, body modification

Summary: After finding out about a certain type of piecing, Heisenberg won’t rest until he can fulfill a new dream.

Feedback appreciated. 18+

This is a shorter chapter, but fear not the next few chapters will have plot/smut and everything else my lovelies

Heisenberg was settled between her legs, his chest over her abdomen as he played with Juniper’s breasts. His eyes were focused, pressing the soft flesh together just to watch it bounce back.

Juniper giggled, “Like them that much?”

“Mhm.” He rumbled, inching up her body just enough to press his face into the warm softness.

She ran her fingers through his unruly hair. She almost drifted, relaxing from the gentle massages and his heat, until a jolt of pleasure rippled through her.

She gasped the sound of surprise drawing into a small moan.

Heisenberg lathed his tongue over her hard nipple, the other still in his grasp as he kneaded it like a happy cat.

She arched a bit, his exploring licks evolving. His mouth latched onto her, sucking feverishly, spurred on by her increasingly desperate moans.

He felt her lower section tremble a bit, getting what little contact it could rubbing against his stomach.

He chuckled into her flesh, pushing himself down on her harder. He trapped her, only allowing her relief on his terms.

Pulling his mouth free with a wet pop, his face split smugly up at her.

Juniper’s face flushed as she met his gaze, her eyes narrowing.

Before she could speak he twirled her now glistening nipple between two fingers, his smile becoming more wolffish the more she squirmed.

“I like them because they’re so damn sensitive.” He licked his lips, voice low and husky.

Taking a breath to regain composure Juniper huffed out, “They’re sensitive because you suck them raw!”

Heisenberg shrugged, dipping his head back down to give attention to the opposite nipple, grazing his teeth ever so slightly.

Juniper jolted, trying to free herself from under him. Without breaking his mouth away he grabbed onto her sides possessively, sucking harder as she tried to escape.

“K-Karl!” She let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan, feeling him rumble with delight at her struggles.

“You're like a damn fish!” He finally broke his mouth free, amusement thick in his tone.

Heisenberg rolled over, pulling Juniper with him as he went, flipping their positions. Now on top Juniper shifted into a more comfortable position.

She gave a breathy giggle as she squeezed her thighs around his hips.

“You know,” Juniper straightened, cupping her breasts, “some women back where I’m from had nipple piercings.”

Heisenberg's eyes narrowed with curiosity, a spark ignited in their depths.

Juniper nodded, seeing his interest, “They would put little rings or bars though them.”

His lips curled into a devilish smile, reaching up to rub his thumbs over her nipples. “I could get my hands on some surgical steel. We could do that.”

Juniper’s face flushed. “I couldn’t!” She exclaimed, slight fear in her eyes.

“Oh, Doll.” The smile didn’t leave his lips, “Think of all the fun we could have.”

She covered her face, “All the fun you would have!” Seeing his eagerness ever growing she added, “You’ll have to convince me.”

“I can be convincing.” Heisenberg rolled his hips a bit, adding, “Persuasive too.”

And persuasive he was. Juniper was usually the one ever full of questions, but she ignited a deep curiosity in Heisenberg.

Day in and out he would randomly ask for more information: What did they use, how did they do it, how common was it?

Everything spilled from his lips with excitement. Whatever answers she gave he made a mental note of. Secretly, he collected the proper materials when he could.

After a week of pestering the Duke and going through piles and piles of metal he was able to scrape together everything he needed.

He looked over his spoils. He had managed to get a pair of steel piercer's clamps and a hollow needle from the Duke. Now the bars themselves he had to make.

He had drawn up schematics to match what Juniper described, taking her size into consideration. Finding titanium and building a special furnace to properly cast them, he finally had a set that he was sure would treat her well.

Now his biggest trial was before him: convincing Juniper.

~

“Come on Buttercup.” Heisenberg hugged Juniper from behind, “It’ll be quick, then after you’re all healed we’ll have lots of fun.”

“You’ll have fun.” She grumped crossing her arms.

He swayed back and forth, “I know you’re sensitive, imagine if I could play with you from across the room?”

She made a little sound.

“Want me to beg?” He rubbed his beard into her neck.

Juniper’s skin prickled with goosebumps at the rough sensation, she tried to push him away.

She escaped his grasp, turning to look him over with narrow eyes.

“Yes.” She finally spoke.

“Hm?”

“Beg.” Her voice was low, her eyes piercing.

Her tone made his lips curl, she didn’t often take the upper hand.

Heisenberg licked his teeth, knowing he made this bed.

“Please, buttercup.” He tried to sound sincere, “I really want you to do it.”

Juniper was going to milk this, she looked him up and down, “On your knees.”

Heisenberg shot her a warning look. He bared his teeth ever so slightly, starting to lose his composure, “You’re really busting my balls over this Doll.”

Juniper leaned back against the counter, “And? Do you want to put metal in my nipples or not?”

She looked at him expectantly.

When he saw she wouldn’t relent from her request he slowly lowered to one knee, disdain in every movement.

He sighed out, gritting his teeth before speaking, “You would make me really fucking happy if you let me pierce your nipples….please?”

“Alright.” Juniper agreed but added, “On one condition.”

“Come on.” Heisenberg huffed out, standing.

When she didn’t back down he cursed then asked, “What is it?”

“You have to do something for me.” Juniper asked, “Any one thing I ask of you, whenever I decide to ask it.”

“One thing?”

“One that you can’t deny.”

He mulled it over, eyes flicking to the side.

“Fine.” He agreed.

~

The next morning Heisenberg got to work, down in the belly of the factory most of the morning. He excitedly came up to retrieve Juniper, dragging her down to one of the surgery rooms.

He let go of her arm, seeing her taking cautious steps. She was tense, looking down at her feet. He saw her bite her lips every so often.

Heisenberg squeezed her hand reassuringly, drawing her farther into the room. In an attempt to put her at ease he started to speak.

“Look here, I did it on myself first ok.” He lifted his shirt for her to see. There was a bandage over his left nipple. He peeled it back to show that he did indeed pierce himself earlier that day.

“You actually did it.” She sounded almost dumbfounded.

“Well yea.” He shrugged.

“Only the one?”

“Mhm.” He rumbled.

“It wouldn’t be fair to ask you to do it without knowing how it would be.” He smoothed the bandage back over, “And now I know how much pressure to use and all that shit.”

“Such a gentleman.” Juniper walked past him, looking over the area he had prepared.

“I have sanitized the chair, table and all the tools. I've also got you some whiskey and ice to dull the pain.” He showed her each thing in turn, offering her the chair. It looked like the most clean thing in the room.

He was taking this all much more seriously than she expected.

“Your throne.” He strode behind the chair, opening his arms to either side of it.

Juniper took her top off, sitting in the chair. She took a deep breath, trying to ease her nerves.

“Here doll.” Heisenberg smiled, handing her a shot of whiskey.

“Thanks.” Juniper knocked it back, grimacing as the alcohol burned her throat. She held the empty cup out to him expectantly.

He cocked a brow, chuckling, “Give the first one a fucking second.”

She let him take the glass, sitting back in the chair. She watched him intently as he picked up some ice and the clamps.

Heisenberg set to work.

He was quick and efficient,  using the perfect amount of force to pierce the hollow needle through the bit of flesh held in the clamp.

Juniper whimpered, keeping her eyes clamped shut.

“Good girl.” Heisenberg soothed, placing the small barbell of steel into one end of the needle, feeding it through.

“All done with one.” He smiled, “Ready for the other one?”

Juniper gave a quick little nod. He held the ice to her nipple, pride swelling in him. She was being so brave and doing it all for him. Juniper was so perfect in his eyes, her devotion to him continuing to surprise him.

After both nipples were successfully pierced Heisenberg grabbed a bottle of healing salve, gingerly applying to the swollen flesh.

“You can open your eyes now.” He chuckled.

Juniper blinked down at her chest, seeing the news body jewelry.

“They’re pretty.” She gave a weak smile.

“Damn right.” He got the bandages, kneeling before her once more.

He covered the wounds, seeing her wince a bit.

 

He stood back, pleased. He helped her stand as he spoke, “Come on, let’s go make you forget all about that pain sweetheart.”

She looked at narrowly, causing him to bark with laughter. “You’ll be on pillow princess duty.” Heisenberg soothed.

(Disclaimer: Do not try to pierce your nipples at home or if not properly trained)

[fanfic-collection]

Loki x Reader: Apocalypse ch 3

As promised, please comment/like/reblog, anything

rebel4fandom

-

You begrudgingly left the warmth of your apartment. Thinking of Tony, and his friends that you had known, you knew you were able to do more than just huddle in the warmth of your living space.

The next several hours passed with you stomping through the halls, pounding on doors and seeing if anyone was still inside your building. To your relief, it was empty.

So, bracing against the bitter winds, you stepped outside and into the street, making your way to the next building over. Thus, you continued the process. Eventually, you found a small family, hunkered down in their family room. You pleaded for them to go to one of the shelters and with much persuasion and assurance that Tony Stark thought it was the right thing to do. The Avengers all supported it, after all, you convinced them to bundle up and follow you to brace the cold.

The trek to the shelter was long and arduous. You helped keep the weaker members of the family upright, blocking them from the buffeting wind that whipped through the city streets among the skyscrapers. Abandoned cars lined the streets, some with doors left open and snow piling up inside.

It seemed the snow had stopped today, but the wind still whipped up the snow into flurries, creating near white out conditions. You had your face bundled and had managed to scavenge ski goggles but the people you led were not nearly as lucky, you knew some of them were following you blindly. Some of them were stumbling over garbage, fire hydrants, city decorations, and objects you prayed were not dead bodies.

When at last you finally reached the shelter, the people running the shelter thanked you with a warm drink. They were grateful for more living people, but you knew it was filled to capacity and more mouths to feed meant less supplies for everyone else.

The number of living residents you found each day was quickly dwindling, it was only a week in.

Today as you sat inside the shelter, warming up from your trek, you saw another rescuer leading victims in. The Black Widow herself.

“I’m used to Russian winters but damn.” She said stamping her feet in the entrance to the area, her teeth rattling. “Alright it’s been years, but still.” She was shouting over the howl of the wind.

They ushered her inside, closer to where you were sitting with your mug of hot water.

“Hey, aren’t you Stark’s, uh?”

“Cousin or something, yea.” You nodded, telling her your name and holding your hand out to introduce yourself.

“I remember seeing you around the tower and the compound occasionally.” Natasha nodded, “Nice to see a familiar face.” She smiled at you, lowering her scarf and raising her goggles. “Feel like I’m going to have to crawl into a dead tauntaun out there or something.”

“Star Wars?” You laughed.

She shrugged with a grin. “Hey, anything to stay warm. I don’t really see much of anyone these days, we’re spread out so much trying to see how many people we can save around the world while we have the big guns figuring out what’s causing this.”

“Dr. Strange?”

“Yea, without his infinity stone, he’s a lot weaker.”

You nodded, “Shame about that.”

“I’m not complaining too much.” Nat chuckled weakly.

“Fair point.”

Natasha stretched her arms, “Even this bitter cold reminds me I’m alive.”

“We’re all glad you are.”

“There’s quite a few people that are alive again after that blip that we thought would stay dead.” Natasha said thoughtfully.

You nodded, “Yea, it’s weird how some of our biggest enemies became our friends too. Like what’s his name, Peter Quill? He was enemies with that Nebula girl, and then she became their closest ally, and Gamora vanished but, actually I’m not sure how that worked.”

Natasha shook her head, “Yea, you’d have to ask them.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, “Although, when Thor said his brother sacrificed himself to stop the initial invasion of Thanos?”

You smiled, “I remember him being here for a bit, right?”

Natasha paused then slowly drew out the word, “Yes… He was, wasn’t he?”

“He came here to recover, Asgard didn’t want him, but they gave the Avengers the means to heal him.”

“Just the initial healing, once he could stand, he went back to Asgard. Right?”

“Yea, I talked with him a bit. He really wasn’t what people made him out to be.”

Natasha raised her eyebrow. “Tell that to Clint.”

“I’m not saying Clint shouldn’t hate him, I’m just saying, Loki well, he doesn’t have a silver spoon up his ass like I thought he did.”

Nat quirked her head.

“Some master spy, you think you’d interrogate him and get more out of him. Honestly you seemed to only get what you wanted out of him when you interrogated him.”

“Oh he definitely got in your head, what did he do to you?”

“Nothing!” You held up your hands, “I’m all me. I just, it seems kinda convenient that he talked only about the Hulk and the one thing he gets you to think about is the Hulk. Hardly seems like a stretch that you would draw a conclusion that his plan was about the Hulk.”

Natasha frowned and furrowed her brow, “Are you saying we shouldn’t have trusted Loki and not let them take him back to Asgard and should have kept him weak and in chains?”

You scrambled upright from your relaxed position. “No, no, no! I just, I kept thinking about the interrogation tapes and it seemed really bad spy work.”

Natasha huffed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“I’m going to go look for others, maybe my shoddy work will help elsewhere.” Natasha set down her warm drink and she stalked off.

One of the nearby workers looked at you and shook their head. “Smooth.”

You scowled at them. Downing the last of your drink that it almost scalded your throat, you slammed it on the table and walked out after Natasha, sure to walk in another direction.

-

When the sun started to get lower in the sky, you hurried back to your apartment. There was no chance of risking being out at night. Any exposure in the dark would be instant hypothermia. Being alone at night was instant death. Thankfully it was still July so the days were longer, and you had more time to get back to your home, but you did not risk any amount of time in the dark.

Getting back to your home you settled back into bed, trying to thaw out and shiver yourself back to life. The heat croaked to life and you looked at the supplies you had collected to sustain yourself. It wasn’t much, but it would keep you going.

Swallowing hard, you turned on the TV and waited to see what news might bring.

A man was being interviewed, some sort of wild animal attack. No. Something else. You recognized Falcon on TV, the new Captain America. He was trying to talk to a survivor in a med unit. The survivor was near catatonic, covered in frost bite and mumbling in horror.

“Get the camera away from him, he’s not gonna talk if you keep shoving that thing in his face.” Sam grumbled.

The camera pulled away but the mic stayed close to Sam.

“Listen, just tell me what happened. Please, this isn’t the first attack, but you’re our first survivor. We need to know what’s happening. You’re ok, I’m Captain America, Falcon, call me Sam, whatever you want, I’m here and I’ll protect you.” Sam bent down and took their bandaged hand in his.

The man stared at Sam blankly, eyes staring into the distance, “They-they,” He stammered, “it… them… those things… they killed my whole family.”

Sam nodded, “I’m so sorry for your loss. Please, anything you remember, what they look like, sound like, anything.”

The man whispered, “Monsters.”

A roar of protests exploded as the press filling the room rushed forward trying to press microphones at Sam and the victim.

You could see the look of exasperation in Sam’s eyes at the press as the victim succumbed to exhaustion, or pain, though you were thankful the heart monitor showed him alive.

Abruptly a gold sparkling circle appeared in the room and the media jumped back in fright. A man you recognized as Dr. Strange stepped out.

“I’m a doctor.” Strange announced. “I’ll be taking over this case.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Everyone out.” Strange dragged out the ‘e’ in everyone.

And then the camera was in a hospital lobby. And you realized you were on your knees in bed, leaning towards the TV trying to know what had just happened, completely bewildered and about a hundred times more frightened.

More than just the cold was killing people?

[buryyourfavouritestrope]

May I walk you home? - Arima Kishou

A gentle hum settled within the corridors of the CCG Main Office; all the hype that had been built throughout the day had fizzled out hours ago.  Almost every employee had returned to their homes, leaving only the skeleton crews occupying the building.

He hadn’t meant to stay this late; Yoshitoki had pleaded with him earlier in the afternoon, when he’d visited Arima’s office spontaneously and found the man half asleep behind his desk, to go home and sleep in an actual bed. With a sigh he tore himself free of his chair, the material whined as it sprung back to its original form.  In his mind he reminded himself that he’d go home to shower and change before returning. There would be no point in resting; by the time he planted his head on his pillow he’d be beckoned back.

Kishou almost missed the sound of pen scratching at paper. If he hadn’t become so fine tuned to every creak and hushed whisper this level of the building emitted, he probably would’ve overlooked the simple noise. Yet, the soft sigh caressing his ears enticed him into finding the source.

Peering through an empty doorway he spotted her, a small frame hunched over a desk, with a pen cocked to her temple as she focused on the file before her. By the way her eyes would occasionally slid shut and stay there for a second before opening wide she was struggling to stay awake. Arima chose this moment to check the time once again.

“Normally people finish a write up of the day on the opposite side of midnight.” Arima theorized, to say the way she bounced in her seat and dropped all items in her hands didn’t amuse him would’ve been an understatement. He was attempting, rather poorly might he add, to contain a smirk.

“Special Class Investigator Kishou,” She yelped. “I just wanted to finish one file…three or six files ago. What time is it? Oh god, I had to visit-“Her eyes glanced towards her phone, the screen illuminating as the numbers burned into her retinas. She hadn’t meant to stay this late. She hadn’t meant to still be in the office after a thirty-six-hour shift.

“It’s ok, I’ve had my fair share of late nights. But you really should go home now, I hear your last investigation was difficult. It’s not uncommon for a ghoul’s threat level to rise in the field but to go from a lower-class ghoul to an SS rating.” He surmised. Her frame jumped from her seat as she began to wave her bandaged arms at him. As if to stop him from speaking any further.

“It was all the other members of the team, in fact I came away with only light injuries, I can’t say the same for the others.” She blurted. Arima let himself smile gently; he hadn’t met an Associate Special Class Investigator who was as humble as she was. Nor had he seen one with as much untainted innocence at their rank. “I offered to finish their case notes, as a way to help them.”

The room fell into the same gentle hum, Arima had found himself used to, once more. Her weight shifted on her feet as she chewed at her bottom lip. He could see her contemplating something and if he had to guess it would be whether to abandon the paperwork and leave or remain dedicated.

“May I walk you home?” Kishou questioned; it was an attempt to settle her mental debate. “if not now, I can wait for when you’re ready to leave” He added. Arima was curious. He’d always heard everyone’s praise for the Investigator but up until now he’d never conversed properly with her.

“We live in opposite directions” She spluttered, her hand lifting to her lips. “Not that I know where you live, I just meant that I would’ve guessed you lived in the nicer part of the city. I mean the guys in my team tend to call where I live a Ghoul hotspot, I mean I’ve only witnessed one incident outside of work” Her babble made him laugh. A rare noise indeed and it took her a second to notice as she continued talking.

“Even more reason to, plus a perk of being called the White Reaper means ghouls tend to steer clear of me” He jested. Another rare occurrence. The second in the space of five minutes, maybe he was exhausted. Still, he stood firm in the doorway. His eyes watching as she gathered her belongings without hesitation. Clearly, she’d given up protesting.

Before they knew it, they’d wandered further from the ominous Main office. Arima had listened as she stammered her way through the previously mentioned Ghoul case. Occasionally she would brush her fingers over one of her bandaged arms, he assumed she was doing it to remind herself that she wasn’t dreaming.

“What made you want to be an Investigator?” Arima inquired; her movements paused and for a second Arima doubted whether he’d asked the right question. He was curious, everything about her screamed that she was in the wrong profession. From the way she smiled to the way her eyes sparkled when she was nervous. Out loud he wouldn’t admit to it, but he found himself wanting to protect her from the harsh reality of the CCG. From the horrors of the world. Even in this short amount of time she had wiggled beneath the surface of his soul and infected him. He understood why everyone liked her so much.

“My brother,” The syllables held a weight he knew all to well. The numbness that consumed him hung from every letter as he turned his gaze to her. The shadows perfectly masked the emotions scattering across her features. Normally he would pry, a desperate attempt to study the joy people usually held when talking about their motivation. He wanted to be able to imitate it, perhaps to fool himself into believing he could be the same.

“I’m sorry” He found himself apologising, his eyes shifting to watch the surroundings. He’d taken note of almost everyone who had crossed their path. It was a precaution, should he need to fight.

“No, don’t be. If he were here, he’d be fanboying over you, I mean the sort of jaw to the floor type of excitement kids get with tv. He was insanely obsessed with Investigators, he got it from watching our mother. They both had a bizarre joy for dangerous situations. Finny was always an adrenaline junkie, he used to use balcony railings as tightropes, or play chicken in the roads near our home. My mother was always out, so it was my job to watch him. As a teenager he became hyper fixated on Ghouls and Investigators and for a while it was an innocent intrigue into how they fought. As a teenager he wanted to watch our mother in action. He wanted to watch Investigator’s fight in all their glory. So, at night he’d go paroling the back alleys for any Ghouls in our Ward. I used to follow after him just to ensure he didn’t get into any trouble or injured. Most of the time he’d only stumble on human crimes, a few times he’d stumble across a long-abandoned Ghoul attack. Our mother died on a mission years before I thought about joining. In fact, I only really wanted to be a bookstore clerk. Her death though sparked something in Finny, it drove him. He would go out longer, he’d go to the rougher areas. Every time I’d follow after him” She faltered briefly.

“Did he ever get into trouble? I can’t imagine all the time he only saw the back end of a ghoul hunt” Arima asked. It was stupid. He knew that the second he spoke, but his mouth moved quicker than his thoughts. She gave him a false smile. The type he’d used a few times.

“Oh boy, there were a couple close shaves. I used to throw him into a dumpster and cover his mouth to stop us from getting caught by a Ghoul. When we got home, he’d be angry but apologise and promise me he wouldn’t do anything reckless. He died shortly after our mother. For the longest time I blamed myself, he went to parole at the height of Ghoul activity back then, if I remember correctly you were just starting out at the CCG, and he used to rave about a certain blue haired investigator that he occasionally caught site of. I refused to go the night he was injured. I was exhausted from school and a part time job, so I begged him not to go. Selfish am I right?” She croaked. By now Arima should’ve stopped her. He should’ve placed a hand on her shoulder and hushed her as tears slowly fell down her face. Instead, he followed her steps as they turned the corner. The older Investigator wanted to disagree with her. It wasn’t selfish to value her own rest.

Kishou’s mind threw itself back to his beginnings with the CCG, he vaguely remembered hearing about an ordinary human turning up at fights. No-one quite understood how they kept finding them, but they had. The muffled whispers in his memory, caused him to step closer to the younger Investigator. It hadn’t been as though the pavement had narrowed beneath their feet. Arima had done it out of instinct as he listened to his own teenage voice in his memories. He remembered calling the unknown witness a fool, who would find himself dead.

“A bookstore clerk” Arima mused, he had meant to say it in his mind. Once again, his mouth betrayed him. He listened to her soft laugh. “I could see you doing that, just from everything that happened I would’ve thought you’d stay as far from the CCG as you could get.”

“Believe me I wanted nothing more than to move to a new country at that point, start a fresh somewhere less influenced by Ghoul’s but I kept hearing Finny, I kept visualising how happy he would get whenever he saw Investigators out and about. I’d never seen him happier, so I guess I joined to keep his memory alive. Especially after he died, even dying he was smiling as he clung to a piece of what I think was a Quinque” She recalled. “I found him the next morning, I almost fell over his half dead body as I left my room. He was gripping this Quinque shard as I tried to stop the bleeding. I think he accepted it, he just kept saying that the Investigators were beautiful. Apparently, he’d watched two Investigators take down a lower ranked Ghoul and they’d seen him. As they went to yell at him for putting himself in danger, some SS rated Ghoul turned up. Before they’d reached him, one of them had been killed. So the second one did his best to protect Finny. I don’t know how he got out. But he did. I was the only one he knew at his funeral. Just me and the Investigator who told me about the events”  

“I’m sorry,” Arima apologised once more. This time he placed his hand on her shoulder.

“It’s ok, it’s how life is sometime, I haven’t really told anyone that story, you’re the first.” She smiled at him. Her hands pointed to the home beside them and Arima found himself questioning when they had arrived. Or when his thumb had begun to rub circles into her shoulder. “This is me”

“Yes, then this is where we part ways. Thank you for answering my question. Good Night Asso-“ She cut him off.

“It’s really late, and I’d feel really bad if you had to walk all the way home. I mean the sun would be up before you arrived. So can I offer you the guest room. It’s not much but the bed’s better than the sofa. I have some of my dad’s old shirts in a box that I can fish out for you tomorrow morning.” Her words caught him by surprise. His eyes widening at the offer, he should’ve refused. He really should’ve refused but he found himself nodding.

He was staying because he was tired, because she had spoken to him as though he were her friend or family and because he could’ve sworn, bathed in the moonlight, he could see the vulnerability that encircled her eyes. She needed the company, he convinced himself, and though he knew he wasn’t much in the form of comfort he followed her inside.  

[walkerwords]

“The Savior Sessions” Part 20 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC/THE WALKING DEAD

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: The others return to Alexandria as the reader begins to recover. Michonne seeks out Negan while Daryl speaks to the reader. Still dealing with what happened at the fair, nobody is ready to relax and nobody is ready to back down.

Word Count: 3327

Warning: Swearing, Brief Mention of Child Abuse

Song I Wrote To: “Yours” by Ella Henderson

Note: This is definitely a filler, but I enjoyed writing a lot of the conversations.

----------

As the sun rose again in Virginia, everything was covered in blinding-white snow.

You lay in a soft bed as a thick bandage was wrapped around your torso, securing the fresh sutures in place. Negan’s body was pressed against yours as he slept soundly by your side. In the chair next to the window, Siddiq slept as well.

Everything that had happened the previous night came back to you. The storm, the pain, and the look on Negan’s face had you taking a deep breath. The past few weeks had been trying to say the least. You had lost too many people and for a while, you hadn’t let yourself feel the pain of those losses. Yet, as you laid in that bed which you knew was in Aaron’s home, you felt your heart being crushed in your chest. 

What were you supposed to do now? How were you all supposed to get through it? Your thoughts went to Carol and Ezekiel. How were they supposed to move on after Henry? The death of a child was never easy, especially when they were taken by force with violence and blood. 

There was a feeling of loneliness in that room. You began to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t gone after Negan and Judith in that storm. Would they have found their way back? Or would you be looking for their frozen bodies in the bright morning instead? 

You always hated to think of Negan as a Walker, but you had never really let yourself think of him as actually dead. Negan was the ultimate survivor and it was as if nothing could touch him. You started to wonder if perhaps that wasn’t true after all. 

Your injury stung as you shifted in bed, waking up your companion. “Hey,” he whispered. 

“Hi,” you said back, blinking up at him. 

“Get any sleep?” he asked with a yawn. 

“Enough,” you said and then winced again. 

“It’ll feel better in a few days,” Negan said. “Siddiq told me it wasn’t even as deep as my injury. You’re gonna be just fine.”

“That’s good,” you said with a sigh. “How’s Judith?”

“Finally with her brother,” Negan said with a glance towards the closed door. “She wouldn’t leave the doorway until she knew you were okay. Shivering and all with that damn dog at her side. Laura finally was able to drag her away just as you lost consciousness.” 

“I don’t remember that,” you said with a frown. 

“I don’t blame you, you were pretty out of it,” he said, brushing his fingers along your temple. “Don’t do that again, okay?” 

“Do what?”

“Scare the shit out of me,” he said easily. 

“Like you haven’t done it to me,” you said with your brows raised. 

“I’m different,” he said. 

“Not really,” you countered. Negan sighed, realizing he was losing the argument if you could even call it that. Instead, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, (Y/N),” he whispered. 

“Me too.”

“Siddiq wants to move you to the infirmary as soon as everyone is up and about,” Negan said. 

“What about you?” you asked. 

“I ain’t gonna leave you,” he promised. “I’ll be there until they can shovel the snow out of my cell.”

“You know,” you began, “as much as I hate storms, they have been beneficial for us.” 

“Amen to that.” 

Exhaustion was still leaning heavily on you as you began to drift off again. Negan kept his arms around you as you succumbed to the fatigue. However, he was wide awake, determined to just enjoy being by your side like this even with the good doctor snoring a few feet away. 

It wasn’t long after you fell back asleep when the door opened. He figured it was Judith or Laura, but he didn’t expect to see Rosita peeking her head in. She noticed Siddiq first and rolled her eyes, however, when she turned to look at Negan her face remained neutral. 

“Do they need anything?” she asked him, watching as you slept. 

“No, but thanks,” he said awkwardly.

His relationship with Rosita was an odd one. While he had murdered Abraham in front of her, Rosita didn’t seem to store that same amount of hate and venom for him as Maggie did. However, she had been the one to try and shoot him after he gutted Spencer in the street.

He also knew that she would never forgive him for all the things he did and he didn’t expect her to. He just hoped that one day they could be civil with one another for more than a few seconds at a time. 

Perhaps that started now. Just as she was about to leave, he stopped her. 

“Rosita,” he said and she turned to look at him. “Uh, I—” 

“I know,” she said quickly. It wasn’t much and he knew it was never going to be okay, but it was something. He nodded to her and then with a nod of her own, she left the room, closing the door tightly behind her.

----------

Michonne and the others arrived home as soon as the storm calmed down. 

After a cheerful reunion and a few snowballs thrown back and forth, Judith finally told her mother what had transpired the night before. And so, Michonne went in search of her Daughter’s hero. 

Again. 

Negan was leaning his forearms on the side of your bed in the infirmary when Michonne pushed open the door, letting the cool air in. Siddiq had ordered you to the infirmary as soon as it was clear enough to walk. Negan hadn’t even let you take a step without lifting you in his arms and taking you himself. 

While you were finally feeling as if your toes weren’t going to fall off, the pain in your side was still near excruciating. You were asleep before Negan could even place the blanket over your shoulders. He had been watching over you all morning and didn’t want to move. However, the look on Michonne’s face had him getting up and walking around the corner, careful not to wake you. 

Negan stood before Michonne awkwardly but eventually made the first attempt at a conversation. 

“Look who’s back,” he said quietly. Michonne then placed her hands in front of her and looked him in the eye. 

“Thank you, for saving her,” Michonne said and Negan nodded to her. “Again.” She went on, “let’s try not to make it a third.”

“That one’s on her, Boss,” Negan said. 

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Michonne said with the faintest hint of a smile and then glanced over to where you were sleeping. “How are they?”

“Bit busted up,” Negan said with a sigh. “But they’ll live.”

“Not a good feeling, is it?” Michonne said. 

“What?”

“Thinking you’re about to lose someone you care about,” Michonne finished, but there was no malice behind her statement. Negan ran a hand over his head, feeling every beat of his heart in his chest. 

“No, no it is not,” Negan admitted. “I thought I’d be waking up to white eyes in the morning rather than tired ones.”

“I know that fear,” Michonne said and then they were both quiet until Negan once again broke the silence. 

“You know,” Negan said, “Dr. Babydaddy said that you got caught in the storm with the Royalty Brigade. Is everyone okay?”

“Do you care?” Michonne asked with raised brows. 

“Look, I don't know any of those people from Adam,” he said. “I do know what it's like to lose a kingdom, see things fall apart. And it sucks ass.”

“The Sanctuary’s a shithole,” Michonne said as she leaned against the wall next to her. Negan chuckled slightly. 

“Well, hell, I could have told you that,” Negan said and then something dawned on him. “You cut through Alpha’s territory,” he realized. “Ballsy.”

“We don't even know if they were there,” Michonne said. 

“They’ll know you were there,” Negan said. “Something tells me they got eyes everywhere.” 

“That’s reassuring,” Michonne scoffed. 

“I ain’t trying to be reassuring, Michonne. I’m trying to be real.”

“I know,” she said. “I know you are, you’re not a bull-shitter.” 

“No, I’m not.”

Michonne nodded, getting where he was coming from. No matter what people thought about the man, he never lied when it mattered and he wasn’t going to sugar coat anything. 

“How bad is it?” Michonne asked then, gesturing to you in the bed. 

“How bad is what?” he asked. 

“You forget that I’ve been with them through all the ugly shit, Negan. I know about the way they have nightmares and how they shut down and internalize everything.” Negan frowned, but he knew what she was talking about.

“I can tell that they’re closed off, even to me. They told me a little bit of what happened, but I know there’s more,” Negan said, glancing over at you. 

“Do you know much about Terminus?” Michonne asked. 

“(Y/N) told me,” Negan said. “Some fucked up shit.”

“Yeah,” Michonne agreed. “(Y/N) wouldn’t eat for a while afterward. Even after we got here, they could barely look at food without gagging. The nightmares came the first night after we got out of that slaughterhouse and I still see them flinch when raw meat is in view. No matter what they tell you, there’s always going to be more.”

“I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle that,” Negan admitted. 

“You are,” Michonne told him. “Can I trust that you will help them through this?”

“What exactly are you asking me to do, Michonne?” Michonne pushed off the wall and headed for the door. As she turned the doorknob she gestured to your sleeping form. 

“(Y/N) helped you,” Michonne reminded him. “It’s time to return the favor.”

--------

The next time you woke up, you were greeted by a different face. 

“Lydia?” you groaned as you tried to sit up. She was there in an instant, trying to help you. You winced in pain as you tugged at your stitches.

“Are you in pain?” Lydia asked, worried. 

“It won’t last long,” you assured her as you finally got a good look at her. Her cheeks were pink, but she looked unharmed. You then glanced around and noticed it was just the two of you. 

“I saw him leaving with Gabriel,” Lydia said. “He’s helping with clearing the wall and gates.” You were surprised to hear that. 

“You met Negan?” you asked her, but Lydia was shaking her head. 

“Just saw him and asked Daryl who he was,” Lydia said. “Kind of hard to miss considering how tall he is.”

“Everyone always notices the height first,” you said with a small smile. Lydia nodded then as she picked at the loose threads of her gloves. You lay your hand over hers. “Are you doin’ okay?” She shrugged then, but when she looked back at you, tears were welling up in her eyes. “Ah, kid,” you said as you pulled her into your arms gently. 

Lydia leaned on your shoulder, careful of your injury as she cried. You held her back as tight as you could, smoothing down the bits of hair that escaped the hat on her head. “I should have told Ezekiel sooner,” Lydia said into your arm. “I should have known what she was going to do.” 

“None of this is on you,” you said to her, fighting your own tears. “Do not think that you had anything to do with this. Alpha did this and she did it to hurt all of us, but most importantly, she did it to hurt you. That is not what a parent is supposed to do. They are supposed to protect their children from hurt, not invoke it.” 

“She was all I had and now she doesn’t even want me,” Lydia said with a cough. You grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back so you could look at her. 

“She was not all you had, not anymore. I’m here, Daryl’s here, Michonne and the others too. Nobody is going to abandon you again. We care about you, Lydia.” 

“You don’t know that,” Lydia said as she wiped at her face. “I don’t even know if I’m able to care about someone anymore.” You frowned, taking a moment before deciding to tell her a story.

“I lost someone at the beginning of this whole thing,” you began. “I’ve never told anyone this, but it was one of my old students. His father used to beat him as your mother beat you. He didn’t think he was capable of having a family or anyone that cared about him enough to fight for him. I wasn’t going to let him think that he was that alone in this world. I got him out of his home when everything happened and I protected him when his father tried to kill us after he turned from a bite.

“What I didn’t know was that this kid, Elliot, had already been bitten by his father. He tried to comfort his dad when he was dying and his father turned too quickly. After everything that his father did to him, he still tried to show him just an ounce of love, even if he didn’t think he deserved it. Elliot was always capable of showing that he cared and that he had compassion. Even when he was dying, he tried to make sure that I was okay. You don’t lose that, Lydia. You were born with a kind heart and you’re not going to lose that.” 

Lydia was looking at you as you let the tears fall on your cheeks. You had never told that story to anyone, not even Carl or Rick. Thinking of Elliot dying in that school gymnasium opened up that hole in your heart again. It wasn’t long after his death that you found your way to the hills and met Carl and Daryl. Elliot had asked you to go find a new family and so you did. Now, it was time for Lydia to realize that she had now found hers. 

“Don’t give up on yourself, okay?” you asked, wiping away a few stray hairs off her face. Lydia nodded as she lay back down and curled up as she finally let herself rest for the first time in a long time.

------

Later that night, you were awake but Negan was asleep. 

Michonne and Gabriel had once again let Negan stay by your side for another night. It wasn’t permanent, but his cell wouldn’t be back to normal for a few nights. They kept the infirmary door locked at night and Laura or someone would remain on watch inside, but Negan was still there. 

His heavy winter coat was around your shoulders as you flipped through an old medical book in the candlelight of the room. You were getting to the section on breaks and fractures when footsteps came around the corner. Heavy boots that you immediately recognized as Daryl’s.

His eyes fell on Negan who was fast asleep in the bed next to yours, his arm tossed over his face. Daryl frowned, but then looked at you, and the tension in his body lessened. “Hey,” you whispered. 

“Hey, yourself,” he said, sitting in the chair next to you. 

“He sleeps like a log,” you said. “I don’t think an air siren could wake him up.”

“Just one more thing for me to find annoyin’ about him,'' Daryl said and you rolled your eyes. “I heard ya had an interesting night.” 

“Yeah, had to save your damn dog, didn’t she? Always the little hero,” you said with a small smile. 

“M’glad your okay,” Daryl said. 

“Me too,” you said, gripping his hand in the low light. He gripped yours back, feeling the solidarity between the two of you. “You were so stupid to go through their territory,” you said. 

“I know,” he sighed. “I guess we just gotta wait for the payback now.”

“I hate that she has this hold on us,” you said. 

“We’re gonna figure this out, (Y/N),” he said. “I ain’t gonna let her hurt anyone else.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you warned. Daryl sighed, leaning on the edge of your bed before looking behind him at Negan again. 

“So, you’re good, then? The two of you?” he said, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. You nodded and then hesitated, not sure if you were going to tell him more, but Daryl could tell you wanted to and so he was patient.

He was a man of very few words, but a great listener. However, your relationship with Negan would be something you told Paul about and not Daryl. Then again, there is a first time for everything. 

“I told him I loved him,” you said quickly in a whisper. Daryl froze for a second before nodding and chewing on the skin of his thumb.

Now it was your time to be patient. You let him absorb the information you just laid on him and then you started to get nervous. Maybe this would be the final straw. He seemed to be fine with your feelings at first, but this was more than just glances through iron bars or the sharing of hot tea. 

Eventually, he spoke. “I see,” Daryl said quietly, finally meeting your eyes. 

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” you asked, surprised. 

“I ain’t mad if that’s what you’re gettin’ at,” he said. 

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Mmhmm,” he said. Which from Daryl was as good as any promise. 

“You still gonna talk to me?” you asked. 

“Always.” 

“Daryl,” you continued, “I want to assure you that if it came down to it, I would fight for this place and these people above everything. Even him,” you said. Daryl gave you a small smile before getting to his feet. From his pocket, he pulled out something you never thought you would see again. 

One of your rifle casings, one of the ones you once fired at the Sanctuary.

Daryl set it in your hand and you could feel the years of corrosion on the inner rim. It felt odd to hold in your hand, but oddly comforting. Looking back at him, you could see that he wanted to believe what you said but didn’t. 

“Daryl?” you asked. 

“Like you said,” he whispered, “don’t make promises ya can’t keep.” 

As Daryl left, you lay in that bed and thought of what was to come. That feeling was back in the air, the one your mother warned you about. Your people had crossed into enemy territory and you knew that what happened at the fair was nowhere near the end of it. 

Alpha wasn’t going to stop and you knew Carol too well to know that she wouldn’t either. A war was coming and as you held that casing in your hand, you wondered how many more lives were going to be lost because of the masked enemy. 

However, there was still the knowledge that all of you were survivors. 

You had survived the CDC, the farm, The Governor, Terminus, and the Wolves. You had even survived the Saviors and their brutal leader, the same leader who lay in the bed next to yours.

All those years ago, Negan had stood before you and your family and welcomed you all to the “New World Order”. If only he had known what that new world would produce and just how terrifying it would be. 

Turning to look at Negan, you could see the steady rise and fall of his breath and it gave you some solace, but not enough. Nothing was going to snuff the fear that crawled along your skin with every minute of wakefulness. The nightmares would be worse, but you did know one thing for sure. 

The day that Alpha made her move, all of you were going to be ready.

AN: And into season 10 we go. There will be a small time jump, but I will work it in as seamlessly as possible.

Tags:

@lucillethings @stark-dreams @amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @waspyyy @yespleasejayhalstead @hoemadegrace @writingdeadangel @huffledor-able541 @pulplorrd @felicisimor​ 

[say-the-name-sebongie]

Fighting for Justice

Synopsis: Justice will be given

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: angst :)

Warnings: school violence and violence in general

Word Count: 3K words

Getting to school early was only one of the things that made students on campus call Wonwoo a "teacher's pet". That was in addition to his perfect grades, perfect attendance, and perfect school record. He was the top scorer in all exams and never had a graduation ceremony where he didn't walk up the stage with some kind of medal or award. Not to mention the fact that his family sponsored most of the university's endeavors and projects. In the eyes of a teacher, he really was perfect.

If he wasn't in class, people would often find him sitting in the library, quietly studying, or typing away on his laptop. They speculated that it was the side effect of being a teacher's pet. Some pitied him for not being able to have any fun but most people just found his presence annoying. There was no point in studying and it looked like he was just doing it for show. His parents were already paying the professors to give him a high grade. Or so they believed.

Wonwoo could hear their whispers but choose to ignore them. After all, he understood where they were coming from. He felt his phone buzz and started packing his things after reading the message.

As he moved away from the table he was sitting at, Wonwoo's eyes fell on a bunch of "elite students", the ones who paid to stay on top. He knew that bribing people with money was one of the easiest things in the world for those who had an abundance of cash. The names that were at the top with his on the score sheets were printed on there with cash. Children from well-off families didn't need to study for their names to be on top of the list, money got it there for them so there was no need to even lift a finger.

That system of "bribery education" lead to the formation of a secret organization, a rebellion, Laqueus. According to them, their main goal was to expose under the table dealings that robbed hardworking students of their rightful place at the top. They were after justice and a fair opportunity for all students. Your place should be determined by your hard work, not your status in society or the amount of money you had in your bank account. All the students— aside from the ones who bribed their way to the top— silently adored and supported them, though nobody knew who was actually affiliated with the group. In one way or another, having such an organization gave them hope that this injustice would end. They endured, believing that the leader of the resistance was sure to come to save them from their misery.

On the other side of the library, _____ pocketed her phone and sat back in her chair as the members of Laqueus entered their hideout. A file was opened on her laptop, emailed from their leader which contained the meeting agenda he had set for the day. Packaged books were stacked on the shelves surrounding a large metal table where various floor plans for the entire school were laid out. The book storage room at the back of the library wasn't the ideal place to hold secret meetings but it was all they had.

A knock came from the door, making all the members perk up. _____ quietly stood up and motioned for the others to hide. If the faculty found out that they had their secret meetings in the book storage room, their plan of achieving justice would fail and all their hard work would come to nothing.

_____ knocked once on the door. "Fiat Justitia." a boy's voice came from behind the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, she opened the door and came face to face with their youngest recruit.

"Hey, leader!" Chan chirped, beaming at her. _____ sighed. "For the last time, I'm not the leader, Chan. I just receive his messages and deliver them to the team."

She ushered him inside. The boy gave her a smile and limped into the storage room. _____ looked down at his feet and noticed that Chan's right foot was bandaged. She frowned. "You were injured from yesterday?"

"Yeah," he answered sheepishly as one of the other members helped him onto a chair. "I was trying to get away as fast as possible."

_____ could only shake her head. It was normal for at least one of them to get injured from a strike. Preparing the materials, executing the plan, and getting away without being caught was very dangerous work. If any of them had been seen it would mean the end of their school life. Expulsion was the punishment for such an offense against the school and being expelled meant that you couldn't fight anymore.

Checking her phone again, _____ told the members that they would start the meeting once the new recruit showed up. They shifted nervously at the news. Getting new members was risky business. You could never tell who would betray you.

"Don't worry," she assured them. "The leader says that he's a good one."

Another knock came at the door. After making sure that everyone was hidden, the vice-leader approached the door. _____ knocked once. She counted, one, two, three seconds before receiving an answer.

"Fiat Justitia."

A smile formed on her mouth as she opened the door to welcome their newest member, an asset that would be a great addition to their cause. The other members of the resistance gaped at who was standing at the door.

Jeon Wonwoo.

__________

_____ figured that it would take a lot of convincing to get the other rebellion members to stop harassing the poor boy with questions. But she couldn’t blame them, who wouldn't be suspicious? If there was one person who would most likely betray them, it would be the infamous teacher’s pet. She had already brought up this concern to their leader but the head of the resistance seemed to have great trust in Wonwoo.

"And why exactly should we trust you?" Seungcheol demanded, banging his hands on the metal table and leaning close to the new recruit's face. _____ could only smile and stay quiet. After the few conversations she already had with their secret leader, the girl was already convinced that the quiet student would never betray them. From what she heard, his hatred for the unfair system probably amounted to more than hers. Plus, with a mind and bank account like his, their plans and attacks were bound to be more successful. To her, Wonwoo was a force to be reckoned with even if he didn't know it yet.

"First of all," he said in a surprisingly steady voice for someone who was being interrogated, "I already know where your hideout is." Seungcheol's open mouth closed itself. With just one sentence he managed to silence one of the fiercest members of the resistance. "Second, I don't need to be on the receiving end of the injustice to know that what those people are doing is wrong."

"Everyone deserves a fair chance to place on top. The only thing that should get a student's name on the list is the grades that they've cried and bled for. A fair chance for everyone is all anyone is asking for. I know how hard it is to stay on top and the fact that there are people who don't have to do anything to be able to surpass what I've achieved on my own angers me."

Wonwoo eyes looked around at the other members as he spoke. _____ saw a light burning in them and spread like a wildfire to the other members in the room. It looked like she didn't need to step in and convince them to accept him as a member, the new recruit was doing that quite well all on his own.

"We have the same goal."

Seungcheol walked up to him and held out his hand for Wonwoo to shake, his mouth breaking into a proud smile. "Welcome to the resistance."

__________

_____ thought that accepting Wonwoo was proving to be one of the best decisions their secret leader had made. She even considered making him a vice-leader along with her. It was like he was born to be a member of Laqueus.

When there was a hole in their plan, he would always be the first to point it out. Funding for their strikes wasn't a problem anymore with his expendable bank account. It seemed that the thought of him betraying them had already been forgotten. Wonwoo was such a big help to their organization that upon hearing of his acceptance ceremony, the entire rebellion wanted to come.

"It would be too much of a risk." _____ reasoned out with them. "Having a lot of people in one place, especially in a place where they aren't supposed to be, will just put us all in danger of being found out."

In all honesty, the acceptance ceremony wasn't much. It was just called that way to make it seem more dignified.

"You're just here to receive this." _____ said as she handed him a small box. Wonwoo opened it and found a thin red ring inside. "Are you proposing?" he joked.

_____ smacked him lightly in the arm. She raised her own hand and showed him the red bracelet clasped around her wrist. "That's just a way for us to see who's on which side."

"That red band is a simplified version of the blindfold that the greek goddess Nike wears." Jeonghan, the team's Intel, said as he strode leisurely into the storage room with Jihoon and Seungkwan following behind him. "The blindfold means that justice is given regardless of who the person is."

"And why is it red?"

"We're at war, idiot." The girl's voice came from behind him. Wonwoo looked at _____ and smiled when she put her hand on his shoulder. "Red is the color of war."

The sound of a pen tapping on the table made him turn towards his other friends. The core of the resistance looked back at him.

"What's your decision Wonwoo?"

He looked towards Jeonghan and Jihoon who were seated around the table. "Well, we don't have all day."

Seungkwan placed a paper on the desk and tapped it with his finger. Wonwoo leaned over the desk and read the words printed onto it.

Laqueus

Member: Jeon Wonwoo

Position: Vice-leader.

The newest member of the organization picked up the pen and signed his name, the red ink stark against the white parchment. The other members smiled and stood to shake his hand.

"Welcome to the core team, vice-leader."

One by one, each core member came to him and shook his hand. “I hope you answer correctly,” Seungcheol whispered into his ear, patting the boy’s back before exiting the room with everyone else.

_____ was the last to stand in front of him and shake his hand. Wonwoo raised his eyebrows at her, their hands still clasped around each other's. He knew from her expression that she was about to ask him something. She had the exact same expression his professors had before they announced a pop quiz or surprise recitation.

“What is the meaning of our secret code?” _____ challenged him, though she already had a feeling that he knew. Wonwoo was one of the smartest kids after all. It wouldn't be a surprise that the meaning of Latin words was just general knowledge to him.

“Fiat Justitia,” he smiled, shaking her hand one more time. “Let justice be done.”

__________

Wonwoo could only keep silent as he watched the members of the core team pace around at the sudden news. He internally face-palmed himself over and over again for not checking which email he had been using before he sent the plan for their strike at the nearing media conference. He was too coffee deprived last night to even register that he was using his personal email rather than the one he had created specifically to use for things that involved Laqueus. Lying to them about his real identity was useless. They would see right through him. All he could do know was tell them the truth.

"So," Jihoon said shakily, his hands gripping the headrest of the nearest chair. "You mean to tell me that you're our leader? All this time?"

He looked towards _____ who was still staring at the computer screen where Wonwoo's email address was written as the sender of their top-secret plan. Wonwoo didn't answer. Honestly, he wasn't sure if they were happy that he was their leader or not. From the blank expressions on their face, it was hard to decipher what thoughts were running through their heads. He was especially aware of _____, sitting a little to his left with her lips pressed into a thin line. She ran a hand through her hair. "Everybody out."

From the look on her face, anyone could tell that disobeying was not an option. As soon as they were alone, she sat in front of him. After confirming three times that he really was their leader she laid her head on the table.

"Are you mad?" Wonwoo carefully asked, afraid that his mistake would ruin the organization. _____ laughed weakly. "Mad? I'm relieved."

She lifted her head and stared at him as if she couldn't believe he was real. "I'm just so happy that you of all people turned out to be our leader. Man, I can’t wait until the others find out—”

“You can’t tell them,” Wonwoo said sharply, cutting her off. Her big surprised eyes met his own, in disbelief that he didn’t want to share this with the rest of the team. “But they’d be so happy to know—”

“_____,” Wonwoo’s voice was low and quiet. _____ froze under his piercing glare. Never had she seen him this serious, not even during important meetings. “If we ever get caught, it's easier to say that you don't know when you really don't than to lie because you know.”

He bent down to look her right in the eye. “This is my way of protecting them.”

The leader of the resistance walked towards the door and threw it open, revealing the embarrassed faces of the other core members who were caught eavesdropping. He looked back and forth between them and _____. “You will tell no one. That’s an order.”

__________

Sabotaging the media conference was the hardest strike they had ever executed. It was also the plan that got their organization caught. None of them, not even Wonwoo, had presumed that the police would be involved.

As the last of the members were pushed to their knees at the foot of the stage, Wonwoo could do nothing but blame himself. He was ready to face punishment on behalf of the organization. That much he could do as their leader. From his place on the stage, his eyes flickered around, looking at the beaten, bloody faces of his comrades. It hurt to see them look so defeated.

"Who is your leader?" the principal's low voice pierced through the silence. With the media gone, he was free to do with them as he pleased. The blank faces of most students made it clear that they didn't know. The principal took a breath to ask again but he was cut off by a low voice from behind him, from someone on the stage.

"I'm the leader."

Wide-eyed students turned in his direction. The fact that the top student in the school had just claimed that he was the leader of the very rebel group that was going against the system was a big shock to the student body and faculty. Wonwoo held his head up high as the principal stormed towards him. The school head grabbed him by the hair, making the boy look him in the eyes. Despite the fear growing in his heart, Wonwoo glared back at the principal, undaunted.

"You had so much potential. Why did you have to throw it all away for poor stupid brats like them?" the principal exasperatedly hissed into his ear as if he were begging Wonwoo to deny his leadership in the alliance. But Wonwoo was anything but unloyal. Even as he was beaten and dragged off to be imprisoned, Wonwoo didn't deny his identity. He was proud to have led such a noble cause and be followed by such honorable people.

The cries of his comrades when the guards were called to take him away echoed in his ears. They watched as his hands were bound by handcuffs, screaming for the police to take them instead. Without a leader, the members of Laqueus felt like their chance of gaining justice was gone.

"Fight," Wonwoo told them as he passed by. He caught sight of _____'s tear-streaked face, almost making him regret exposing himself and leaving her. But as the leader, sacrifices had to be made.

"Fight," he repeated louder. The spark that had been put out lit up again. A solemn atmosphere spread throughout the room like a fog, blocking the sight of those who didn't have a fire burning in their eyes. His comrades knew what he meant and that's all he needed.

And as the police car that he sat in pulled out of the area, Wonwoo saw the same defiant faces that looked at him when he posed as a new recruit, the ones who were tired of having to be a slave to the unjust system and ready to fight for what was right. He knew then that this fight was far from over.

Even if Wonwoo was gone, the resistance was still at war. His last words echoed in their ears, filling them with determination. Especially _____, who Wonwoo had clearly looked at in the eye as he delivered his ultimatum. She nodded at him, promising to finish what he had started. Their leader had given an order and they would follow through.

"Fiat Justitia. That's an order."

[bobathirstaccount]

Hard to Find Someone Like You

Boba x fem!reader, slow burn to smut (tomfoolery starts end of ch 2 & sex starts in ch 3, I gotchu), some romance, fair amount of plot, Post-Mando 2 Boba

You are a merc serving under Fennec at Fett’s Palace. It’s business as usual until a certain helmet starts tilting in your direction...

TW: unprotected sex, violence (someone gets beat up semi-graphically.. nothing too bad)

Translations (Mando’a)

Hu’tuun - coward (deep insult)

Cyar’ika - sweetheart/ darling

Mesh’la - beautiful

****

CHAPTER SIX

“Finally, she’s awake,” you heard a male voice say.

“Okay, let’s do this,” another one replied.

You looked up, bleary eyed. The back of your head ached.

“Where is he, girl?”

You stared at them.

“Fett, Boba Fett,” the man clarified. You started to laugh. This angered the men and one of them backhanded you, splitting your lip open. For good measure, he also gave you a black eye. “Now let’s try this again. Where’s Fett?”

You laughed again, spitting blood at their feet. “He’s gonna kill you.”

The man who’d beat you grabbed you by the hair and lifted your head up painfully, “Bitch we are the ones in this room with you right now, not him.” He backed off a bit, “Plus he’s just your fucking employer. Give it up.”

You remained silent. It earned you another punch to the face and a kick to the gut. You groaned but didn’t speak.

The men were getting impatient. One of them grabbed a pair of tweezers. “Guess where these are gonna go?” He asked with a nasty expression. You just stared at him, blood dripping down your swollen face. “This is on you, girlie. It’s a shame, you’re a cutie. You won’t be after this.” A flash bang went off, stunning all three of you.

When you recovered you were in a prone position, your bonds cut. You became aware of voices. “... now is there anything else you need to tell me?” That was Boba.
“No, no please! That’s all I know. He just hired us to attack Slave 1 and kill you!”

“But yet you were torturing a woman instead. Hu’tuun,” he seethed. Boba slapped him across the face with his armored wrist. The man spit a tooth out and continued to plead. You looked for the other one and found him slumped against the wall. He seemed dead. You directed your attention to your shoulder, which was starting to throb. You gingerly touched it, which made you whimper.


Boba heard you and turned around, still furious. He walked over to you and knelt, “How are you?”

“Shot.”

He tilted his helmet slightly, “Among other things.” He smoothed your hair back from your face, studying you.

“Please, pl.. pl... -“ Boba shot him without turning his head.

“Let’s go home, cyar’ika.” You nodded and tried to stand. You couldn’t. Boba lifted you to your feet. “Can you walk?” You nodded. You walked outside, leaning against Boba, to see the Slave 1 not far away. You breathed a sigh of relief.

***

Once back onboard, Boba put the ship into jump space. He turned to you immediately, “I’ll get the med pack.” He proceeded to patch you up, using a level of gentleness you didn’t know he possessed. Once you were bandaged up, he sat back. “I should not have put you in danger like that, using my ship without myself present.”

You shook your head, “Part of the job.” He looked at you for a moment, “It will not happen again. If they knew who you were, who knows what could have happened.” He placed a strong hand on your knee. You looked quizzically at him, “Who am I?”

“Someone who is... important to me.” He straightened.

The pain killer was kicking in, “Ayy calls us fuck buddies.”

He laughed. “I should have had this descriptor when Fennec asked me.” You were stunned, “What?”

“She asked in so many words.” You swallowed thickly. “Are you embarrassed?” His helmet tilted.

“No! I just,” you stumbled over your words, “I just don’t know what it says about me.”

He tilted his head the other way, confused.

“I worked hard to get where I am. Now it looks like favoritism.”

He shook his head, “Fennec doesn’t feel that way, and aside from myself she’s really the only person that matters.”

You thought about all the other mercs, gossiping, judging. You shrugged. They were already doing it anyway. The male mercs were unforgiving to any female that tried to weasel their way into prominence in this quadrant. “I guess.”

“What does that mean?” He sounded gruff.

You grabbed the hand that was on your knee and squeezed. “Nothing. I want to be around you and I don’t care who knows.”

He nodded.

***

Ayy and the other dancers babied you, ferrying food and other goods from the palace to your ship. You had elected to recover in Daesha. It felt the safest there. Boba came to visit you nearly every day, frequently running into the dancers. They said nothing, but started giving you heavy knowing looks. It annoyed you.

Finally you were well enough to appear at court. You reappeared on Boba’s left side, an elevated position. No one said anything, but there were looks in your direction from the other mercs. You held your head high. Some people even started to try to curry favor with you. You felt an inkling of power forming. It was strange. You mentioned it to Boba as you laid in bed one night.

“Of course. You can do something for them.”

You walked your fingers across his bare chest, “I don’t like it.”

“That’s a good sign.”

You sighed, “Well I still don’t like it.” He pulled you close. “Get used to it.” He rubbed your hip with his rough hand. “You will get the hang of it. Wielding power is surprisingly easy.” It felt surreal to be told such a thing by Boba Fett.

You were beginning to distinguish two modes: the Great Fett and Boba. Boba was hard to come by, but could be wonderfully soft. Fett wasn’t bad either, but was harder to read and more mischievous. Tonight he was Boba, and so you felt emboldened.

“Boba, what do you want for us?” You asked brazenly.

“Mmm, more of the same. Why? Are you still happy with our arrangement?”

“Yes... I just... like you.”

He snorted. “The list of people who can say that is very short.” You sighed. You had tried to express yourself but done a terrible job. It was probably for the best. Quiet settled over the two of you.

“I am... fond of you.”

You had almost fallen asleep, but your eyelids shot up at this. You wrapped an arm around his torso. “Really?”

”Don’t get emotional.”

You snorted, but bit back some tears.

“I am not your boyfriend.”

You laughed at the thought of someone calling him that. “Of course not. Boba Fett someone’s boyfriend? It just sounds wrong.” He turned his head to rest his chin on the crown of your head. “You are an enigma.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate. He shifted his weight then, and seemed to settle down into sleep. You closed your eyes.

When you woke you were alone. Of course. You stretched and yawned, rolling over. Fett’s armor was still on the side table where he left it for night time. You sat up, looking around the room. It was empty. You tried to figure out what this could mean. He walked out of your fresher with a towel around his waist. He saw you sitting up, “Showered.”

You nodded. He dropped the towel and got into bed. “Come here, mesh’la.” You snuggled into him, enjoying the closeness. His hand ran down your spine, to the small of your back, giving you shivers. You looked up at him adoringly. He stared down at you with a soft, but unreadable expression. Suddenly he cupped your cheek in a large hand and drew you into a chaste kiss. It was shocking but welcome. You kissed back until he pulled away, dark eyes watching you.

You ran your hand over the scar that crossed his face. He sighed gently. You tested and kissed him again. He allowed it but didn’t let you deepen it. When you pulled away, he smiled softly, the sharpness in his eyes diminishing further. He ran a hand down your side, stopping to cup your curves until he reached your ass. You felt yourself growing wet and needy. He grabbed your ass and rolled over, pulling you on top of him. You sat up, straddling him above his hips. You scooted down, pushing down on his chest to do so. His skin was warm and uneven. You thought about him in the Sarlacc, being eaten alive. You pushed the thought away.

You arrived over his cock. You rubbed your already wet pussy against him, feeling him harden beneath you. When he was hard, you directed him into yourself and started to grind, feeling his cock move in your pussy. He watched you as you moved, bringing a hand to cup one of your breasts. You started to slowly bounce up and down on his shaft. He squeezed your tit, making you sigh dreamily. You became urgent, your need to cum becoming overpowering. You felt the overwhelming sensation growing in your pussy.

The feeling of his cock stretching you was almost too much. He grabbed both of your hips and started to fuck up into you, sharp powerful strokes. You hand went to your clit, rubbing frantic circles. You closed your eyes and your mouth fell open slightly. Boba grinned, enjoying the show. You came hard, breathing his name over and over as your pussy fluttered around him. He flipped you over before you could recover and started to fuck you in short strokes. You spread your legs for him, moaning from your orgasm. He slowed down slightly to your confusion. It still felt good, but it was very different sex than you normally had with him. He continued to fuck you almost gently, his head buried in your shoulder. “Baby, you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask.

”Yes cyar’ika,” he replied huskily. You rubbed his uneven back with your hands. “Why do you call me that?” You had never asked but often wondered.

“Because you are,” he said into your neck.

“I’m... sweetheart?”

There was a pause in the conversation as he fucked you. “Yes.”

You quieted your mind then and decided to stop asking questions. Instead you said, “Cum in my pussy, baby.” He picked up the pace slightly, keeping his face buried. You wrapped yourself around him, purring. His thrusts became erratic and you could feel him panting into your neck. You decided to try to outdo yourself, “Mmm, cyar’ika you feel so good.” He came then, stiffening and groaning into your hair. He stayed like that for a moment, then rolled off you. You turned on your side and nuzzled into him again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called cyar’ika before.” You smiled. Then you remembered something. “Boba, those ...Mandalorians... why do you have their armor if you aren’t also Mandalorian?”

“The armor... was my father’s.” His tone let you know you were treading on thin ice.

“Was he Mandalorian?” You pressed forward, pushing the edges of your boundary.

“It’s complicated, ad’ika.”

You waited for him to translate. “Hey, you promised to translate new words.”

“Little one.” You looked up at him at this.

He sighed. “I should get up.” He didn’t move.

“Not yet. Stay for awhile with me.”

“Why?”

“Because this is nice.”

He laid with you awhile longer before getting up.

[limeblood-exe]

A Singular, Bloody Mattress (part 2)

So much fluff, you guys, it’s tooth-rutting. And a lil bit of Raph angst, too because why not. Ok, but it’s also mainly fluff. Enjoy!

He can’t sleep. It’s three in the morning, and Raph lies completely awake, staring at the cracks in his bedroom ceiling.

Out of all of his brothers, Raph has no problem sleeping. Mikey might have the occasional bad dream or he might stay awake playing video games or doing art, but for the most part Mikey has taken to heart Raph’s lectures about needing to get a good amount of sleep each night. “It’s important for a growing, young turtle,” he had explained. However, he wishes that his other younger brothers would have taken that advice. 

Donnie and Leo are Raph’s headaches when it comes to making sure all of his brothers are taking care of themselves. Donnie has an even worse habit of staying up too late, but it’s mostly because he gets so absorbed with a new project that time passes without his knowing. It’s common for Raph to find Donnie either passed out on his worktable in his lab, or stumbling into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. But while his younger brother does stay up late occasionally, he enjoys sleep probably the most out of any of them, so it’s easy for Raph to convince his brother to sleep (convincing, as in Raph mentions the time to Donnie, who replies with “Wow, would you look at that,” and then promptly sleeps for the next twelve hours).

And Leo just doesn’t sleep sometimes. Honestly, just even knowing the fact that Leo has insomnia was actually discovered from pure luck. Raph didn’t even know his brother was having problems with sleep until he accidentally came across him on his way to the bathroom just hanging out in the family room, binging some Jupiter Jim films. 

He tried to talk to Leo about it, but every instance he brought it up his brother had an annoying ability of dodging the topic. Finally, with Raph having to resort to the “I’m gonna tell Splinter” card, he had admitted that sometimes he has issues falling asleep, but that it wasn’t anything to worry about, and he would let them know if it got worse. So Raph had agreed to let it go with that promise in mind. That didn’t stop him from staying up a couple of nights spying on his brother just to make sure the problem didn’t, in fact, get worse. He never saw Leo leave his room those nights, so he either must have gotten through his sleep drought or knew Raph was watching him and used his portals to secretly escape his big brother’s view.

He doesn’t know which one it was, to be honest.

And he feels he should have done more, Raph comes to realize, because this whole “not being able to sleep” thing is just awful. The stinging sensation in his eyes, the restlessness of both mind and body. He can’t understand how Leo would try to hide this instead of just asking them for help. He has no idea how long Leo might have been suffering from insomnia, but one night and already Raph feels like splitting his bed in half, despairing that sleep has slipped from his clutches.

But he's no fool, he knows the cause of why he is not currently sleeping. 

It's because of the fact that his aforementioned brother is currently holed up in their infirmary.

No matter what he tries, Raph can’t stop thinking about what had happened just a couple days prior. They had come so close, too close, to losing their brother. Not just when they were cornered by their enemies; as soon as they got back home, it was a fight to keep their brother alive, restoring his lost blood with blood donations from Mikey, who argued that he wanted to do it, he wanted to feel helpful, and stitching together torn skin and shell.

He was fine, though. Damned lucky, their father had said, but he managed to pull through.

And yeah, they cried when he opened his eyes for the first time since they got back home, but that doesn’t matter. What mattered was that their team had not been reduced to three.

Leo is gonna be fine, things are heading back to normal; so how come Raph can't stop thinking about how useless he felt during the entire ordeal?

Sitting up abruptly, Raph decides that staring at the ceiling isn't gonna help him get any sleep. 

He leaves his room quietly so as to not disturb any of his brothers, who desperately need the rest just as much as he does, and departs for the kitchen. He's thirsty, so it seems like a reasonable first destination. 

He walks mindlessly, his mind swallowed by too many thoughts.

Water sounds nice, maybe that’s what I need. A glass of cool water, and I’ll head back to bed, Raph thought to himself. 

Entering the room, he turns on the light, looking for the fridge hoping to find-

This is not the kitchen. An easy discovery, what with the lack of kitchen essentials and instead he sees humming machines, a curtain, an occupied bed-

Ah, he’s in the infirmary. Without thinking, his feet had unconsciously brought him here.

He immediately slaps the light switch off, worried he woke his brother from his needed rest. He hadn’t meant to come in here; he didn't want to be in here. Not right now. He’s supposed to be trying to keep his mind off things.

He can just go back, he didn’t hear his brother wake up; didn’t hear a groan or even a peep, so there would be no harm in him just walking away.

But he might as well check that Leo is asleep as he’s already here and all; he does have a track record of hiding any of his sleep issues.

Raph pads to the side of the bed, spotting his brother cocooned in a hill of blankets. The only parts of him he clearly can see are his head and his arm that sticks out, dangling over the edge of the bed. Raph lays his hand on Leo’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his steady and constant breathing. Raph can't see them right now, but he's painfully aware of the large swath of bandages that cover his middle.

Content that his brother is indeed asleep, he grasps Leo's dangling arm (noting he has one of Donnie’s techy bracelets strapped to his wrist, most likely monitoring his vitals) in his gentle hold, and positions it back in his warm bundle. Tucking his brother in, he smiles softly before he makes his way to the kitchen to grab something to drink.

"Raph?" a soft voice mumbles before he even takes a single step, and he definitely did not give a little yell of surprise, no matter what Leo says.

"Leo! Sorry," Raph u-turns instantly and puts a hand on his brother's head, patting it gently like a parent would to a kid. "I didn’t wake you, did I?"

"You did," Leo gives a jaw-cracking yawn before he continues, talking into his pillow, Raph straining his ears to hear him, "but it’s fine. I feel like I’ve been asleep for too long anyway."

"That’s pretty normal, and you’re gonna have to get used to it. It’s going to be awhile before you’re back to normal, buddy," And the events of that night once again rush to the forefront of Raph's mind. He looks to the ground, unable to look his brother in the eye, afraid that Leo will see through his eyes and read his thoughts.

"Huh? What is it?" Leo looks more alert due to the seriousness his face had suddenly morphed to, struggling weakly in his blankets to lean up against his pillow.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Leo squints up at him with a disapproving look. Like he’s gonna believe that for a second.

“Now, why don’t I believe that? Are you lying to me, bro?”

"No-it’s just-I’m not lying to you,” Deflating under Leo’s sharp glare, Raph nervously rubs his hand together, gathering the courage to speak. 

“…Back then, I couldn't do anything. I'm supposed to be the leader, Leo, and I did nothing." His face scrunches, and his hands clenching together in a show of anger. "And I'm… I'm sorry, Leo. I’m sorry that I couldn't protect you."

Raph would expect his brother to do many things after his revelation; make a joke to lighten the mood, ignore the apology altogether, saying something along the lines of “please don’t embarrass yourself by talking any longer”, etc. He did not expect for his brother to grab his wrist suddenly and pull him close to the edge of the bed, and with one large motion, wraps his arms around Raph’s neck. If he wasn’t too shocked, he would have admonished Leo for moving around so much, since he just got mortally wounded, but the hug feels so good at the moment that all he can do, all he wants to do, is hug his brother back.

“I don’t blame you Raph, you don’t have to ever apologize for something like this,” Leo comforts. His voice is gentle and kind and so unlike Leo’s usual carefree tone that Raph lays one of his hands on the back of Leo’s head checking for a fever.

Not finding one, he buries his face in his younger brother’s shoulder, and Raph has to choke down the sudden lump in his throat to softly mutter, “But I should’ve done, you know, more. I’m the eldest, it’s my job to protect you guys. And at that moment, I failed. And it’s not just that, I couldn’t come up with a plan. My mind felt so gooey and slow and I just-because of that I put you at serious risk, Leo. If you couldn’t-if you didn’t-”

“But I did. And stop putting all the blame on yourself,” Leo adds. “If you wanna play the blame-game, then I think I gotchu beat.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. We wouldn’t have even been in that situation in the first place had I never gotten hurt. I let my guard down, Raph, and I paid the price for it. And so did all of you.”

“That’s not fair, Leo. You couldn’t have known that those paper guys would have been any more dangerous than the ones we’ve already fought before,” Raph pulls apart their hug, going into his lecturing mode. “You can’t blame yourself for everything that happened.”

“But that’s what I’m saying. It was a sucky situation, so you can’t blame yourself as our leader when things go bad, because it’s not just on you. We’re a team, and we’ll fail together as a team.”

While bleak sounding, it sparks an understanding in Raph.

We’ll fail together as a team.

He understands where Leo is coming from. He always thought that the pressure of failing would be on his shoulders alone; he’s the leader, and a good leader takes responsibility. A good leader would know better than to lead their team to their deaths. 

But a good leader would also know that you can’t win every fight. Raph doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility, he might never be able to, but he can know where he stands when it does.

He’s lost this argument, so Raph just slowly nods. He still feels like he could’ve done better, and he knows it might take awhile before he accepts what Leo had to say, but he feels relieved, the burden of feeling so alone lifted from his shoulders.

Raph, thickly says, "Thank you, Leo."

"Anytime, brother." Leo replies. As Raph rubs at his eyes, clearing away beading tears, Leo adds, "Now, pay up."

"What? What do you mean?" Raph asks, confused. Leo sticks out his quivering lips, his eyes pouting upwards. Leo raises his arms towards Raph, his hands making a grabby motion in the air.

"Carry me."

"What? No! Why would I do that?"

“Because I’m bored! I’ve been lying here for, what has it been, three days?”

“Just two, actually.”

“My point being! I need a change of scenery.”

“Uhh, but you’ve been sleeping for the past couple of days? How can the scenery bother you when you're not awake to see it. Besides, you’re still recovering.”

"Oh, come on! That's not fair, and you know it. I'm healing just fine," Leo doesn't give up and increases his efforts to be held, mimicking a petulant child demanding attention. "Please, Raphie, I don't like the infirmary."

"No."

"Pleaaaase-"

"Alright, fine!"

Leo laughs victoriously as Raph leans down to pick up his brother. Leo wraps his arms around Raph's broad neck, and his big brother puts his arms behind Leo's back and beneath his knees, making sure to do so around his blanket as well. He doesn’t want his brother getting cold, after all.

Straightening his back, Raph glares disapprovingly at Leo, who just smiles happily in return, snuggling his cheek against the dip between Raph's plastron and his neck.

"Where am I going exactly?"

"Anywhere is fine."

"Uh-huh."

Raph is convinced that Leo made a big fuss just to be held, but who is he to deny his brothers want they want. After all, it wasn’t just Raph that went through a tough ordeal. If Leo wants to be held, it's the least Raph can do.

With the choice being left to Raph, he decides that the family room is the perfect spot and makes his way there.

Leo begins to doze in his hold, snuggling close to the heat of his brother.

Why would he need a change of scenery if he was just gonna fall asleep anyway.

Raph doesn't have it in him to wake him back up, so he sits cross-legged on the floor as soon as he arrives and holds his breathing brother close.

This was not how Raph thought his night was gonna go, with Leo asleep in his lap and the night continuing to tick by. Content regardless, Raph rests his chin on top Leo's head, appreciating the living movements of his brother: his breaths, his sleepy snorts, his leg twitches, they're all proof that he's alive.

Being up so late and having the comfort of his younger sibling close, Raph feels himself starting to doze off as well, imagining the swell of sleep that would finally overcome him. Ready for the bliss of sleep to take him, the thundering of distant footsteps startles him to full alert mode. With the frantic, but familiar, steps coming closer Raph looks to see none other than Donnie rounding the doorway, whipping his head around in search of something. Spotting the two of them on the floor, Donnie rushes forward.

"Is Leo ok?!" Donnie asks.

Taken aback by the urgency in Donnie’s voice, he says, "Uhh, yeah. He’s fine.” Looking down at his dozing brother as if to confirm his own statement, he looks back to Donnie as Leo sleepily mutters into his chest. “He's sleeping right now, so if you could be quiet, Donald." Raph slightly scolds Donnie for his loud shout. 

"Wha-excuse me!" Donnie, offended by his brother's admonishment, stares incredulously at his only older brother. "I just thought, you know, that something must've happened, Raphael, with my tech informing me that one of Leo's stats changed. I had gone to check on him when, to my surprise, he is nowhere to be found."

Oh. That would explain Donnie’s panic. The tech bracelet on Leo’s wrist was meant to monitor his well-being, so of course Donnie would have had any sort of change being directly messaged to his own wrist-band, alerting him if anything were to happen. That must have included his sleep cycle, and with Leo awake long enough to have a conversation with Raph, he was awake long enough for Donnie to be alerted.

"Oh, my bad... Sorry, Donnie, I didn't know."

Donnie breathes a deep sigh, the act calming himself and he regains a more collected composure.

"It's fine, I was just worried that he did something stupid again, like trying to use the bathroom on his own when he can't even stand properly." He takes in the sight of his two brothers cuddling on the floor together, fully registering what's before him. "Um, but might I ask what you two are doing?"

"I couldn't sleep, and I think Leo was getting bored of the infirmary." He slightly shrugs his shoulders. "So, here we are."

"Bored of the infirmary? Does he not understand the whole concept of 'I nearly died and I should take it easy?'" Donnie crosses his arms, "I swear, sometimes I wonder where his head can be. He be just as bad as Mikey sometimes-"

Donnie pauses, leering suspiciously at Raph.

"Wait, what did you mean you couldn't sleep?"

"It means that I couldn't sleep, Donnie." That was before his talk with Leo, and as much as he loves his heart-to-hearts with his brothers, he doesn't feel it in him to do one more for tonight. "And besides, that was way earlier. I'm better now."

His brother just mm-hm's to himself. Donnie then joins Raph on the floor, sitting next to his side with his legs sprawled out in front of him. A moment passes as Raph waits patiently for Donnie to speak first. 

"Do you still want to talk about it? I'm up now, you might as well take advantage of having me all to yourself. Not many get the privilege of that, dear Raphael."

Raph gives a good natured eye-roll, but before he can give his own snarky response, someone beats him to the chase.

"Wow, conceited much?"

"Shut up. Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" Donnie asks at the same time Raph mumbles to himself, "Are you ever asleep?"

Leo slowly morphs his face into a smirk, then replies simply with a cheery "Nope."

He continues to say, "And how can I? You guys keep waking me up. For once I have the chance to get a full night's rest, and you guys are ruining it."

His brothers have no argument to counter him with, so Leo counts that as a small victory.

“Well, speaking of sleep, I’m gonna go back to bed now that I know Leo's not gonna crack his head open on the toilet or something,” Donnie stands, stretching his arms above his head. “What are you gonna do?”

“Me and Leo are good here,” Raph says.

“You’re gonna stay like that? On the floor? Call me crazy, but that doesn't sound very comfortable, Raph.”

“Yeah, I know. But we’re already here, sooo.”

Donnie gives a thoughtful hmm, hand to his chin in a contemplating manner. After sometime, he raises a pointed finger to the ceiling, eyes bright with newfound determination.

“You know what, I actually have a brilliant idea. Hang tight, I’ll be right back.”

Curious as to what Donnie has planned, Raph complies with Donnie's order. He watches the descending back of his brother and wonders just what he has gotten himself into tonight. He grows impatient when minutes tick by, and even Leo starts to huff in annoyance, the waiting anticipation keeping him up.

Ten minutes later, Donnie reappears with a sleepy Mikey in tow, both loaded with pillows and blankets, which are so stacked it's nearly blocking their view.

"You didn't have to wake him up, Donnie."

Mikey just shakes his head, setting down his load by Raph’s feet.

"It's fine, Raph, no biggie. Dee told me we were gonna have a sleepover in the family room," Mikey smiles through an obnoxious yawn, laying out the blankets (some, Raph notices, are from his own room) to form a giant pile on the floor. "And I thought, ‘Oh, man! We haven’t had one in so long!’ It sounded nice, especially after everything that’s happened."

Now that Mikey mentioned it, they haven’t done this for a long time. They’ve been so busy dealing with the whole mutant outbreak that sleepovers kind of took a back-burner to their list of priorities.

Raph, with Leo in his arms, mumbling something he can't quite make out, moves to stand a distance away, making space for Donnie and Mikey as they prepare the rest of the room. 

Donnie and Mikey make quick work, busying themselves with preparing a blanket fort by using nearby objects to hold up the blankets, ranging from Splinter's recliner to using the projector as a tether for the fort's ceiling. And since this just so happens to be the genius and artist of the family, the fort they create is a mix of both their technical and artistic skills. 

The fort, while not only being huge, would put most other blanket forts to shame in just style alone.

Mikey suspends numerous low-lit strings of light on the ceiling, giving the fort a warm glow while Donnie works to construct the cushions and blankets on the floor to maximize their comfort. Throwing in a couple of stuffed animals along with some glow sticks they found in Raph's room, their blanket fort is complete.

Donnie grabs one end of a blanket, acting as a curtain for the entryway, while Mikey grabs the other and simultaneously they pull them back to reveal the inside of their new masterpiece with a bow. Raph “aah’s” at their display, entranced with the sight.  

Raph lays Leo in the middle of the fort, who sinks delightfully into the cottony bliss, exhaustion overtaking his body which has reached its limits for staying awake for so long. Mikey leaps into the fort and lands next to Leo, giving a mirthful shout as he immediately grabs one of the blankets covering his sleeping brother and bundles himself next to Leo, snuggling into his shoulder and wrapping his arms around one of his big brother’s.

“Be careful, Mikey,” Raph warns. Mikey would never intentionally hurt one of them, but Raph thinks it safe to at least warn his brother that Leo is still recovering from an injury.

“I know!"

Leo gives a little huff, turning his face towards Mikey and blowing a quick gust of air into his face. Mikey makes a face, grunting, "Ew, your breath stinks," while Leo replies with, "Some of us are trying to sleep, Miguel."

Mikey giggles into Leo's shoulder as he says, "Sorry," but he doesn't sound all that reproachful.

Raph is next to settle down, laying on Leo's other side, grabbing Donnie's wrist, who was distracted admiring his and Mikey’s handiwork, and pulling him down with him. Having lost his own snuggle buddy to Mikey, Donnie has become his next victim, squashed between Raph's massive arms. But he only gives minor complaints, so Raph doesn't feel all that bad.

The combination of soothing lights from the ceiling and the glow sticks and the cushions beneath them lull the turtles into a comfortable daze. Next to him, Raph can hear the sleeping forms of his youngest brothers, cuddled together with their limbs entangled. 

"You know, next time you have problems with sleeping, you can always come to one of us. You always help us when we can't sleep; of course, we'd want to do the same for you," Donnie gently mentions. Patting Raph on the arm, he adds for good measure, "You're our big brother, but we can still help you."

We're a team.

Surrounded by the warmth of his family, knowing that everything has finally gone back to normal, Raph smiles.

"Yeah, I know, Donnie."

Donnie hums, accepting his answer, and in a couple of minutes his own breathes become slow and even, deep in sleep.

His brothers, all of them, are right here, safe and sound. Raph still might have self-doubts as a leader and as a brother, but for now, he'll let go of his troubles and join his brothers in the blissful land of slumber.

In no time at all, Raph feels the dregs of sleep consume his mind, falling asleep with a peaceful smiling gracing his lips.

[awhitehead17]

Universal Signs

Chapter Eight / Previous Chapter

Also on AO3

A/N: The rating has changed! It was general but is now teen. There is a bit violence and hints of blood towards the end of this chapter. Its nothing too graphic but just in case here's the warning if that makes you uncomfortable. 

Enjoy! :D

Tim wasn’t sulking. He wasn’t! He was just pouting in the common room on his own as he thinks through recent events. That’s all. No sulking involved whatsoever.

Okay so maybe he was sulking.  

His arm was irritating him. Underneath the bandage his skin itches and he has to forcibly stop himself from scratching at the wound. He scowls at the ceiling as he slumps back into the plush couch he was sat on. He can’t believe a cat spat at him and burnt his arm. Out of everything he’s encountered so far, that cat-like creature is probably the strangest things he’s yet to see. 

The aliens did tell him to not get too close, but in his defence they neglected to mention that the creature could spit over seven feet away! How was Tim supposed to know that? He saw the creature, it looked cute and fluffy and he wanted to pet it, then Kon-el found him and dragged him away. The alien’s reaction to the creature just made Tim more curious about it.

After grabbing food Tim found the cat again but kept his distance. It looked harmless and it even resembled his brother’s cat back home. However things went wrong when something spooked the creature and caused it to get nasty. In a matter of seconds it went from cute and cuddly to vicious and evil. It hissed and then spat at Tim before darting away and disappearing into the trees.

Thankfully he had quick reflexes and was able to cover his face with his arm before getting hit with the creature’s acid-like spit. His arm instantly flared up with pain which caused him to cry out. That’s when Kon-el appeared.

At least it was his arm that got burnt and not his face. Who knows what kind of damaged that would have caused if that was the outcome. Curiosity killed the cat. Tim snorts. Yeah, his curiosity did almost kill him this time.

“Are you okay?”

Tim jumps at the sudden voice. He turns around to look at them and follows them with his eyes as they walk over to the couch and sit opposite him.

“What’s funny?”

Cassie looks at him with slightly narrowed eyes, as if she’s suspicious of his behaviour. Tim eyes her up momentarily, even now after he’s been with them for a few weeks he still gets the odd feeling around Cassie. She’s warmed up to him a little in that time, as if she’s getting used to his presence now but there was still that underlying mistrust of him hanging around in the air.

Tim shrugs it off. There wasn’t a lot he could do about it in that moment. He averts his gaze from her and waves a dismissive hand. “Oh nothing, just some human crap.”

That was another thing Tim had learnt. Half of the time they have no idea what he’s saying, common phrases and sayings go right over their heads. Any abbreviations he makes gets him blanks stares. Movie and TV show references get him a raised eyebrow in question.

Of course this was to be expected considering where he is, but every time it happens the ache inside his chest of where he’s missing home just grows that bit heavier at the reminder.

Tim’s missing his friends and family. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he was taken from earth as he was unable to track time while he was captured and he only has a vague idea of how long he’s been with these guys on this ship.

It sucks and Tim absolutely hates it. Unfortunately he doesn’t have much of a choice but to suck it up and get on with it.

“Sure...” Cassie drawls giving him that look that says you humans are strange. “I wanted to update you on some stuff. First off, our next stop will be in a few days’ time to collect the next item we need. There isn’t much to do between now and then, so basically get comfy and relax. Second thing, how would you like your own room on the ship? We were speaking and it’s only fair that you get your own space like the rest of us have.”

Tim nods taking in the information before pausing and shooting her a surprised look. He had been expecting the next stop details, however the room news did surprise him.

“Really? I didn’t think there would be any room for me to have my own space?” He questions her. “I don’t want to put any of you out or make any trouble.”

“We can clear out one of the storage rooms and place a bed in there. It wouldn’t be much but it’s somewhere other than in the common room for you.”

Tim smiles gratefully, “Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”

Having his own space would be nice. As comfy as the couch in the common room was, having his own space would definitely be preferred.

She nods. “Okay, I can let the others know and we can get started on that. Third thing, how’s your arm?”

Tim lets out a breath and shrugs. “Irritating. The wound is still fresh so it’s going to be annoying for a little while yet. If I keep it clean and stuff it should hopefully heal up within a week or two. Thankfully it’s not anywhere where it would really be a nuisance.”

She stays quiet as he watches him. Tim glances at her but looks away again. He has no clue to what she’s thinking, he probably doesn’t want to know either.

When the silence drags on, Tim decides to fill it. “So what’s the plan until the next stop? Got any ideas or no?”

She shakes her head. “No. As I said there’s not much we can do now until we reach the next destination. Try to keep yourself occupied until then. I’m sure one of the others can help entertain you if you get bored.”

After that apparently Cassie was done with the conversation because she stands up and leaves the room without another word. Tim blinks at her vacated spot, wrapping his head around the conversation. Right, so now he has to entertain himself for the time being.

He sighs and starts deciding what he’s going to do with himself. As he looks around the room for inspiration, his eyes land on the Rubik’s cube on the table in front of him.

Figuring that’ll do for the time being, Tim reaches over and grabs it. Two of the sides were already solved and Tim’s going to assume that Bart was the one to do it. He wonders how many more he can complete until their next destination.

 In the time it took to travel to the next planet, Tim simply plotted around the ship looking for things to do. One of the main things to be achieved within that time was that his room Cassie had mentioned has now been set up. It’s a storage room turned into a bedroom so it’s pretty small but they manage to get a bed in there along with a small wardrobe and a small chest of draws. It wasn’t a lot but it’s not like Tim had a lot of belongings anyway.

While it was nice to have his own private space sometimes it felt wrong. At times the room felt too small and it made him feel claustrophobic, especially since there were no windows. The bed sometimes felt to hard and he would just be tossing and turning on it. It made him miss his own bedroom back home. Like his pillow, god he misses his pillow, and his own blanket. Just the little things that he once took for granted.

He gets by though. It’s nice that they’ve created the room for him and he appreciates it.

To pass the time, they would occasionally play a few games, have the entertainment night that Bart got to decide what they do, work and chat.

Tim’s arm was still healing and from what he could tell it was healing nicely. Another couple of days and it should hopefully be back to normal. He’s been keeping an eye on it and treating it to the best of his abilities.

Eventually they enter the next planet’s atmosphere and Tim observes the descent from the window in the common room. The planet was filled with what looked like trees, well, at least if trees had dark blue leaves and purple trunks. By this point he wasn’t even surprised any more. The amount of crazy, beyond imaginable, things he’s seen and discovered while in space, things like this just don’t really shock him anymore. Though the idea of telling his family about all of this is rather amusing. They wouldn’t believe a single thing of it.

The ship descends down to the ground and lands with a thump. Once everything was stable Tim leaves the common room and heads for the cockpit where the others were gathered. He enters the room to find Cassie at the dashboard and Kon and Bart together at the table. He walks overs and claims one of the free seats for himself.

They both look at him as he settles.

“Tim, just to get you up to speed. We’re on the planet Tordar and we’re here because we need to gather up 50 pieces of Pingon,” Kon tells him.

Tim nods his understanding and straightens up when Kon slides a piece of paper across the table to him. He picks the page up and scans it. There was an image of what Tim is assuming they need to collect. It was a golden cylinder shape with what looked like pink coloured spikes sprouting out from the main body and there were large dark blue leaves appearing from one end of it.

It reminded Tim of a pineapple. At least if they were skinner, pink and had blue leaves.

Kon continues speaking, glancing at his team as well as Tim as he does so. “The picture is what we need to collect from this planet. Pingon’s are found hanging low off the trees. So hopefully we can simply grab and go.”

Tim puts the paper down and rubs a hand over his forehead. He sighs and looks up at the alien. “There’s more to it than that isn’t there? It’s never a simple grab and go. So what is it?”

The alien looks uneasy, shifting from foot to foot as he glances at Tim before sharing a look with the other two like he’s reluctant to tell Tim the information.

“Kon.” He presses.

In the end it wasn’t Kon who shares the information with him, it was Bart. Tim whips his head around to look at the speedster.

“A species called Galavent live on this planet and they are dangerous. They’re ferociously territorial, will maim and kill in an instant. They are not fun to be around at all.” He was staring at Tim with an intense expression, this alone was telling Tim Bart wasn’t joking around and this was the truth.

“Right,” Tim drawls, “Avoid killer… Galavents? No problem.”

He starts getting up from the table only to be stopped by Kon speaking up. “Tim, maybe you should stay on the ship for the time being.”

Tim grits his teeth and tries to hide his annoyance. “Why? Because I’m human? Because I don’t have powers like the rest of you?”

Kon open his mouth to say something but seems to reconsider his words. “No. Not because you’re human Tim but because your hurt. It’ll be safe for you on here than out there.”

Tim snorts in disbelief. It was only a matter of time before they would start treating him like he was a delicate piece of glass unable to do anything. He continues standing and pins Kon with a look.

“I’m fine. I have a minor injury, nothing that’ll stop me from doing regular things. I’m going to help you whether you like it or not.” When the alien stays silent, Tim takes that as a win. “I’ll meet you by the door.”

He leaves the room in a tense silent and heads for his own bedroom. If the planet did have dangerous creatures on it, it may be best that he has some sort of weapon. He grabs the metal pole from his room before heading down to the main door of the ship.

About a minute later the three others show up. As he approaches, Kon scowls at him, clearly not happy with this arrangement of Tim joining them out on the planet. Tim fakes a sweet smile, like he was completely innocent in the ordeal. He smiles for real when the only reaction he gets is Kon’s scowl deepening on his face.

As they walk, Tim notices that each of them was carrying something that resembled a large picnic basket. He doesn’t question them about it, figuring that they must be for carrying the pingon’s back to the ship.

The four of them soon leave the ship and step foot onto the planet. Tim was surprised to find it warmer than he expected. With all the trees around them (even though they’re purple) it reminds him of a jungle or forest back home. It was surprisingly light on the planet too, despite all of the leaves blocking the sky, everything was still visible to Tim’s human eyes.

Moving away from the ship, which was parked in the middle of a large clearing, they all enter the tree line and start hunting for the pingon’s they need to collect.

Thankfully the hunt doesn’t take too long for them to find the first bunch of pingon’s. They were indeed hanging low off the branches towards the ground, basically in perfect height for picking.

Tim walks over to one of the trees and studies the fruit. The colours were more vibrant in real life than what they were on paper. It looked like an exotic fruit someone would find in the Caribbean or something. He reaches out and gingerly touches the spikes of the fruit, not knowing what to expect. They were sharp but didn’t feel like they would pierce his skin, once again reminding him of a pineapple.

He grabs the fruit with a hand, pulls it off the branch in one swift movement and weighs the thing in his hands. It didn’t feel heavy like a pineapple does, in fact it was fairly light which was surprising. He wonders over to where Bart was picking a few from off another tree and puts his in Bart’s basket.

Between the four of them they clear that area of fruit fairly quickly and decide to move onto the next area. As he picks the fruit, Tim was half tempted to eat it. Maybe split one open to see what it looked like on the inside and try some of it.

He fiddles with the one in his hands as he glances around to where the others are. They were all too busy with their jobs to pay attention to him. Tim turns back to the fruit and positions his hands where the leaves were and braces himself to pull them off when –

“Tim what are you doing?”

When Cassie’s voice makes him pause. Annoyed he’s been caught, he sighs and turns around. He puts on his best innocent looking expression and shakes his head. “Nothing. Why what’s up?”

Cassie narrows her eyes at him in disbelief. “I’m going to say this now, but don’t eat the pingon’s. If consumed like this,” she holds up the pingon in her hand as demonstration, “unprepped, they can burn your insides. So listen to me and don’t eat the pingon’s. Understand?”

Tim blinks in horror at the fruit. Okay, apparently this is fruit that can burn your insides. This is just another thing to add to the mental ‘what the fuck?’ list Tim has currently running inside his head.

“Right, not eating the pingon raw. Got ya.”

He was still tempted to try the fruit of course but Tim’s going to listen because he likes his insides functioning and wants to keep it that way. Shaking the thoughts of burning insides out of his head, Tim continues with the task at hand. The quicker they finish the better.

They spend a little over an hour collecting all the fruit they need and gather a few more for themselves to have a treat at a later date. Once finished they begin to head back to the ship. The aliens were carrying the baskets while Tim walked behind them, lazily swinging his pole around with each step.

He doesn’t know when it started, but he knows when he first recognised the feeling. All the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stands up and goose bumps appear on his skin as he shivers. An uneasy feeling washes over him as he travels behind the aliens. It went on for a little while and the feeling wouldn’t go away.

Tim was sure something was watching him.

He stops walking to observe his surroundings, looking for anything unusual (or something that looked out of place at least) however all he could see were the thick trunks of the trees, hanging fruit and the dark blue leaves.

Tim takes a deep breath and lets it out before shaking his head. He’s just being paranoid, that’s all. Overthinking things and letting his imagination get the better of him.

Turning back around, Tim continues walking now picking up his speed to catch up with the others who were further up ahead and hadn’t noticed he stopped. Tim only travelled several meters when the growling started. It was a low sound that shook him right through his core, something that made him freeze on the spot.

He tries to control his breathing in order to stop himself from panicking, his heart starts pounding inside of his chest and all of his muscles in his body were frozen and tense.

The growling’s coming from behind him and it felt like it was getting louder by the second. His brain was screaming two different things at him. One was to run. Run and don’t look back. The second, was to turn around to see what was there.

Ever the curious human, Tim goes with the second option and stupidly turns around. He keeps his movements slow and steady so he doesn’t startle whatever is behind him.

Tim’s breath catches inside of his throat when he finally faces what was behind him. Hanging from a tree there was a huge monkey-like creature. It was staring at Tim with two black orbs for eyes, its long razer teeth were borne in a snarl as it growls at him.

For a moment Tim thought it was a baboon. The colour of the fur was the same and its body was similar. The main differences however was the size and the fact this thing was eyeing Tim up like he was candy.

Tim didn’t know what to do. He’s sure if he makes a move the monkey will pounce and after getting a glimpse of its claws Tim would rather not chance it.

Swallowing thickly Tim decides to take a cautious step back away from the animal. His eyes never leave the thing as he starts slowly backing away. If he doesn’t startle or aggravate it, fingers crossed, he’ll come out of this alive.

Tim’s method appeared to be working. The monkey doesn’t make a move against him as he backs away.

“Tim? Where are you?”

The sudden shout makes him jump and he holds his breath as the monkey seems to stiffen up in front of him and the growling increases in volume. Tim doesn’t dare look behind him though. He feels like if he moves his attention away from the creature then the animal will make a move. Almost like a spider you’re trying to capture, you keep watching it so you don’t lose it.

“I’m here.” Tim calls back carefully. Not too loud so he doesn’t startle the thing. “Um, something’s come up.”

“What do you me -oh.”

Now Tim could feel another presence behind him. However unlike before this one doesn’t feel threatening or put him on edge.

“Tim remember what we said on the ship. That’s a Galavent.”

Tim huffs, because of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?

“What do we do?” He asks the alien. He can make a few guesses himself but he’s out of his element here and does not want to do anything wrong.

Before Kon could reply even more growling echoes around them. From above, the leaves all rustle and a glance up shows more monkeys – Galavents – appearing. Tim’s eyes widen at the realisation that they’re surrounded.

The animal in front of Tim finally moves. It drops down to the ground with a thump, and starts stalking towards Tim. It snarls and growls at him as it gets closer. With fear Tim starts backing up, no longer caring about careful movements. The animal in front just takes that as an invitation to move quicker, letting out a roar as it starts speeding towards him.

After that, it was like hell all broke loose.

As the Galavent charged towards him, Tim let out a yell and turned tail and ran, almost falling over as he does so. Kon, who was standing behind him, shouted and also ran with him. From behind, the monkeys all followed, letting out their roars, snarls and growls as they chased them.

“Get to the ship!” He hears Kon scream at him but Tim wasn’t really paying attention.

Sprinting through the trees, they scramble to get away from the animals pursuing them. Together they somehow make it to the clearing where the ship was but only to be stopped short. Next to him, Kon goes flying as a Galavent lands on his back and tackles him to the ground.

“Kon!”

Tim doesn’t get a chance to dwell on Kon being attacked because suddenly he was thrown to the side. When he hits the ground he rolls a few times before landing on his back, he barely gets the chance to react before a monkey was coming at him from above. Letting out a scream Tim uses the pole he still had to block the monkey’s attack as it lands on him.

Large fangs were snapping at him and sharp claws trying to rip him to shreds. Tim uses all of his might to keep it away from him.

Just as his arms were about to give out, the weight of the monkey disappears. Tim blinks in surprise at the sudden change of events and again as Bart materializes out of nowhere above him. He smirks down at Tim before darting off again.

Swallowing Tim scrambles up onto his feet and swings with the metal pole as one of the monkeys jump up at him. The pole hits it clean in the head and knocks it down. Tim swings a second time to knock another down which comes from above. He knocks it down to the ground and hits it again to try and knock it out. When it no longer moves Tim stops his motions and straightens back up looking for the next immediate threat.

A yell from his right gets his attention. It was Cassie wrestling one of the creatures on the floor. Her hands were locked around it’s jaw in attempts to keep it from biting her head off. Without even thinking about it, Tim’s moving. He sprints over to Cassie and bodily tackles the animal off her.

Because of his momentum, the two of them go sprawling over the ground. Tim loses track of the animal as he rolls several times before coming to a stop on his front. He shakes his head and tries to get past the dizziness that’s currently taken over.

His luck seems to run out there because unfortunately something lands on his back before he could get his head together. The impact winds him, leaving him breathless and then there’s the piercing pain that erupts in his shoulder. He lets out a curdling scream and thrashes wildly in an attempt to buck the thing off his back.

The pain somehow worsens as it seems to travel down from his shoulder to the middle of his back. Tim lets out another sound as he feels his skin split open and warmth spread across his back. Tears were forming in his eyes and there nothing else but pain.

From there it becomes a blur. Things just all mould into one. At some point the weight disappears off his back, there were shouts of what he thinks was his name but all that registered in Tim’s mind was the pain coming from his shoulder and back.

When something else touches him, he weakly fights it off, however that something was persistent and easily bats away Tim’s sluggish strikes. He screams again when more pain explodes inside of him.

He must have blacked out or something because the next thing he knows it that his face was being pushed into something soft underneath him. Unknown things were still touching him, there was a noise which sounded like a voice surrounding him but he couldn’t make it out and the main thing was there was still overwhelming pain coming from his back.

He yells again when something touches his back, causing another jolt to go through him. He tries to get away, tries to escape from what was hurting but he’s forced to stay still by a force. With his pain-fogged mind, Tim couldn’t work out what it was, but he didn’t actually care, he just wanted to get away from it.

After futile attempts to wiggle free, he whimpers. The whimper turns into a hoarse scream when it somehow gets worse. Tim’s never felt anything like this before. It must have been too much for him to handle because the last thing he remembers is letting out that scream and then nothing.

[transistus]

Stage One Phalloplasty: Experience and Results

[Trigger Warning: Genital mention, surgery]

The following post documents the most memorable parts of my experience having phalloplasty along with my recovery.

I had Stage One RFF Phalloplasty privately on the 18th February 2020 under Mr Christopher from St Peter’s Andrology Centre at The London Clinic Hospital.

17th February:

I arrived at the hospital at 18:00 ready for surgery at 9:00 the following morning. 

I would be staying at The London Clinic for a week so I packed the essentials: loose joggers and a baggy shirt for when I would leave, my phone, laptop, dressing gown, toothbrush, deodorant, face wipes, dry shampoo, eyemask (so useful as there was always some form of light on), and laxatives (trust me, if you have a long surgery these are a must-have once you can use the loo).

Upon my arrival, I was surprised to see that the hospital was more like a hotel if you looked past the medical equipment. It had decent-sized rooms, a concierge service, and very good food from a broad menu that you ordered at the start of each day.

Anyway, that evening after getting signed in I had my pre-op checks, ordered some dinner and then spent the rest of the evening relaxing before turning in for the night. I didn’t sleep particularly well due to the new environment and anticipation about having the surgery. The fact that I was having phalloplasty didn’t set in until I was on my way to the theatre the following morning.

18th February:

I was woken by a nurse at 7:30 who did some final pre-op checks on me before the surgeon, Mr Christopher, came to see me just after 8:00 to discuss the procedure. I was told that the surgery would last between 6-8 hours and warned of all the possible complications once more. Once he was finished, I signed my consent form and he marked on my arm the size the graft would be. Shortly after he left, the anaesthetist came in and discussed what she would be doing and I was presented with another consent form. Once that was signed she informed me that a nurse would take me down to the theatre in the next 30 minutes.

At this point, my nerves set in regarding being under anaesthesia for so long. I’ve never had any issue with aesthetic but this was the first time I was somewhat anxious about it, after all, there’s a huge difference between being unconscious for 2-3 hours and 6-8. Despite that, I remained positive that the surgery would work out just fine and that I wouldn’t have any serious complications. I reminded myself that I was fit, healthy, and in good hands. A positive mindset helps a lot, which was something that the nurses I chatted to emphasised.

A nurse came to get me shortly before 9:00 and I was escorted downstairs to the theatre that was, and I kid you not, the most horrific shade of bright green I’d ever seen. I made myself comfortable on the bed and the last thing I recall was happily chatting away to the anaesthetist before waking up in the ICU with a nurse reaching down into the cast my arm was in asking if I could feel her touching my hand (I could).

I was in theatre for seven and a half hours.

To say I had some brain fog upon waking up would be an understatement but I was in good spirits. My arm was held upright in a purple sling (and would be in that position for the next week) and I was hooked up to all sorts of things including a morphine administration button. In all honesty, I was never in any real pain as if anything started to ache I was quick to nip it in the bud before it had a chance of getting worse. Mr Christopher came to check on me not long after I woke up and informed me that the surgery went very well which was a relief.

After just over an hour in the ICU, I was wheeled up to my room where I asked for my phone and was quick to let my partner, mother and friends that I was alright before dozing off.

For the first four days, a nurse would come to check my blood pressure and the circulation in my phallus every four hours (then every six hours after that). The circulation was checked using a doppler and thankfully there was the sound of a heartbeat when it was held there meaning that the artery was supplying blood to the area. It was such a fantastic feeling being able to look down and see something there (that, in my mind, was always supposed to have been there). The phallus itself was supported from underneath by some padding to keep it at an angle to allow for a steady blood flow. I was told I’d have to keep it upright for three weeks.

19th February:

I was woken early for breakfast, and although my appetite wasn’t fantastic I did my best to eat what I could. I was told that I would be bed bound for another day and little did I know how frustrating I’d find being stuck in bed. 

Now, you’d probably think that the pain in my arm and groin would be atrocious, but you’d be wrong. I had no pain in my arm and only a dull ache in my groin that was easily kept under control by the morphine. If anything, it was the staples in my bottom that were by far the most uncomfortable part of this whole experience in and out of hospital until they were removed two weeks after surgery. Trying to make myself comfortable with staples digging into my backside was a never-ending challenge.

In the afternoon, my partner, mother and best friend came to visit me for a few hours which was great (it was good for them too to see that I was fine as well). I was sad when they left, but I had my laptop and plenty to watch to keep me occupied.

20th February:

I had a rough night's sleep which wasn’t helped by a tension headache that was likely caused by the position my arm was in. Thankfully the physio came to visit me and helped me work my arm a little which helped and I was instructed to regularly move my hand to keep the circulation going. 

By this point, I was already fed up of being trapped in bed, there was never a comfortable position to do anything (even sitting up was uncomfortable) especially with my arm stuck in one position. The nurses did come to give me a bed bath in the afternoon which definitely improved my mood and after dinner I was later told that I would be getting out of bed tomorrow which I was looking forward to.

21st February:

This was the day I got out of bed and it was such a relief. After breakfast, the physio and a nurse came to unhook me from all sorts of cables and assist me in standing up. Once on my feet, I went for a walk around my room and up and down the hallway outside. Apparently, I did extremely well getting up and moving around so much as a fair amount of people who undergo the same surgery struggle with mobility, so knowing that I was doing so well was a great boost to my morale. 

I was able to finally sit at a desk too which was so much more comfortable than the bed (though the staples still caused a lot of discomfort even with me sitting on a pillow). My mother also came to visit again and was there to help me with some more walking about. Just before dinner, I had the catheter removed and was able to go to the loo. 

Pain wise, today was when I stopped using morphine as the oral painkillers the nurses provided me did the trick. As for my phallus, the doppler kept showing that there was a pulse and whenever it was inspected by the surgeon or nurses I was told that it was healing very well and there was no cause for concern.

22nd February:

I had all the remaining drains and tubes removed today and began walking up and downstairs with the physio with no issue. 

I spent much of the day trying to eat more, binge-watching shows and documentaries and getting on with some writing (I got a surprising amount of writing done despite being down one hand!) 

Today was also the day I had my first shower with the aid of one of the nurses and getting cleaned up properly was wonderful.

23rd February:

This was my last day in hospital, by now, the nurses only came to give me my pain medication (just Paracetamol and Ibuprofen) every four hours or if I called for them. Above all, I was looking forward to going home, being with my partner, and sleeping in my own bed.

24th February:

Discharge day and the day I saw my arm for the first time.

I had breakfast as usual, then not long after that a nurse came in to remove the dressings on my arm to let it air for a bit before redressing it so I was ready to leave. I wasn’t horrified by the sight of my arm, but it was still a shock that made me a little queasy at first as it’s one thing to see pictures of the graft and another to see it on your own body. I was given an antiemetic which helped the nausea subside in a few minutes and then I was left to my own devices for an hour. 

The graft was purple and raw as expected and was longer than average due to me having thinner arms. Mr Christopher made it clear before surgery that he would need to take more skin to make the phallus an appropriate size and width because of the lack of fat on my arm.

My arm was redressed with Mepitel, gauze, and bandages and I was given a sling to keep it up at an angle. I was then provided with a bag of medical goodies (namely lots of Mepitel, bandages, gauze, tape, and a supply of Paracetamol and Ibuprofen). I was also instructed to send weekly photo updates to the surgeon so that he could advise me if anything needed to be done, luckily I had no complications with it. 

My mother and partner came to pick me up at 13:00 and it was such a good feeling to be finally heading home.

The Following Weeks:

After leaving the hospital I thankfully didn’t have any issues with pain as taking Paracetamol and Ibuprofen every four hours did the trick. I only needed a lie down once during my first week back home, but other than that I was up and about as much as possible when I wasn’t at my desk as I was eager to get back into my routine. 

Mobility wise, the only things I struggled with was trying to put on socks and getting clean which my mother helped me with. Now, just because I was so mobile doesn’t mean that recovery was easy. I was exhausted both mentally and physically almost all the time. Being up and about for longer than ten minutes was tiring and I needed a sit down to recover afterwards. 

Sleeping was awkward as I had to try and keep my arm elevated so I made use of two pillows to keep it as upright as possible at night. During the day I just held my arm upright when at my desk or kept it in the sling. The staples in my bum remained by far the most uncomfortable part of my recovery as sitting ached, using the loo ached, and lying down ached. I couldn’t wait to get the damn things removed.

I returned to Harley Street two weeks after surgery for a check-up and to have my arm dressings changed and staples removed. My phallus was healing nicely and my arm had improved a lot in just one week much to my surprise, it just looked like raw skin with some blistering (which was normal). All in all, everything was healing well, all I had to do was make sure the dressings were changed once a week at my local surgery.

As for the staples in my bum, they were removed one by one, but luckily much of my backside was still numb so I could only feel a few of them being pulled out. Once they were all out I was so much more comfortable, I just had to be careful not to rip the incisions, keep them clean, and redress them with the plasters I had as needed. The only issue I had was a small tear about an inch and a half long and half an inch deep close to my inner thigh which did heal up after another week and a half.

I mentioned earlier that I had to keep my phallus elevated (which unfortunately made it look like I had a permanent erection so travelling necessitated a long coat) so it was so great being able to remove the padding once I was three weeks post-op. Being able to let it just hang in place without the underlying fear of anything tearing was wonderful. All I had to do now was leave the last of the incisions (underneath and on the tip) to heal and to have my weekly check-ups. My phallus was healing well too. I had scabbing along the incision sites but they were improving by the day. 

After a month had passed, I returned to Harley Street where a nurse slid a tube down my phallus to make sure that I hadn’t developed a fistula that would block the neo-urethra - I hadn’t, but even if it had it would be corrected during Stage Two. I then had water squirted down my phallus to make sure that it went all the way down and out without issue. I was instructed to do this regularly to make sure the neo-urethra remained unblocked. I was also given permission to soak my arm in saltwater twice a week to lift off the scabbing. I still visited my local nurse until the 30th of March for a weekly inspection of the graft, but outside of those visits, I would redress my graft once a week on my own after a soak and airing time.

Five Months Later:

As of today, I’ve healed up extremely well and couldn’t be more pleased with the results so far! My phallus looks like I was born with it and it is a decent 5” long (which is what the surgeon aims for). 

Regarding my arm, I did have stiffness and swelling in my hand, fingers, and wrist that finally eased up after three months (exercising it and taking Ibuprofen regularly helped) so everything is back to its original size now and has full range of motion.

Sensation-wise, I started developing a tingling feeling on my phallus when it was touched at around two months after surgery which has since spread to the tip. It’s not a tactile or erotic feeling, but more of a sharp nerve sensation that is often displaced. The stinging does mean that the nerves are alive and will hopefully develop more sensation over the next two years.

Now all that is left for me to do is wait until I can book Stage Two which I should have had in May-June, but due to COVID it has been postponed like all other non-essential surgeries. Despite needing two more surgeries, I remain optimistic that I'll heal just as well as I have done already!

I hope this post was helpful and as always, if you have any questions, feel free to send me a message and I'll do my best to answer them!

[phantomphangphucker]

Legless On Maim Chap. 8: Crime And Time Makes Me Fine. NOT.

Danny messes with a cop, Lewis messes with a ghost, Vee messes with a Eddie, ClockWork messes with EVERYBODY. And while Danny loves ClockWork, he also thinks they’re an absolute bastard.

Danny gets awoken almost violently and promptly slips off the branch he had climbed up onto. Deciding to just stay laying on the ground groaning rather than deal with his friends; especially hearing them laughing at him.

“Now that’s some quality blackmail material”.

“Dude! Wow you were not kidding!”.

Danny just groans again as Tucker tosses a pair of pants over his face. Fine, he appreciates actually having pants now -even if they weren’t on him, at least not in the way he’d like them to be- but knowing his friends they were probably patterned embarrassingly. Blinking open his eyes and blowing air strong enough at them to make them float up into the air, effectively confirming a stupid pattern; fucking pink with hearts, motherfuckers. “Jerks”.

Sam smirks and puts a hand on her hip as Danny pushes himself to sit up, “courtesy of my folks' refusal to accept that I’m not their personal dress-up doll”.

Danny snorts, “you’d think they'd give you more heartfelt gifts for a change, instead of using the opportunity to try and make you have a fashionable change of heart”. Earning matching groans and making him smirk. Getting up and flipping them off while hopping to get the (very hideous)pj’s on.

Tucker points at him, “least your legs clearly work”.

“Tuck pal, I think I’d be having a fair few fucking crises if they didn’t”, patting the pants off before straightening up and gesturing exaggeratedly at his legs, “I’m having a crisis as it is. The fuck am I supposed to do with this? How the fuck am I supposed to explain this guys?!?”, gesturing even more wildly, “I. Have. Legs. Again. They were cut off, and now. They. Are. Back. Is there any section of the endless expanse of the Zone where I am not fucked”.

Tucker shrugs, “body paint? Sam is rich enough for an endless supply”. Sam glares at him, crosses her arms, and then uncrosses them just to smack him over the head, “I am not a walking wallet!”.

Danny points aggressively at Tucker, “my folks are not utterly blind, Tuck”, shrugging, “sure it’s a close thing, but still”, glaring, “and that will immediately fall apart as soon as they want to do a systems check or something. Heck! They haven’t even gotten the CyberSteps working yet. Meaning I still got to test prototypes, which is literally impossible to do with having freaking legs again!”.

Sam and Tucker share a look, Sam shaking her head, “you could just be honest? They were chill with a bloody ghost Core, Danny, I think they can handle legs”.

Danny glares, “Cores and ghostly tails are solid ecto-energy, not flesh and blood and bone. It’s not the same. That shit can, apparently, just be explained away by me having a somewhat awakened ghost. Legs, fleshy human legs, are not a ghost thing”.

Tucker shrugs, “could just pitch it as ghostly healing? Though yeah, you almost might as well just tell them everything at this point”.

Danny huffs, he had a point. Considering the sheer amount of ghostly weirdness his folks have just accepted at this point. But still, the whole ‘I’m half ghost! Surprise!’ was more than just being half ghost. It also meant admitting he was Phantom and had been hiding and lying for two whole years. It meant his parents facing the fact that their life's work was effectively responsible for killing their son. That they had spent years telling him to his face how much they really badly and painfully wanted to dissect and destroy him. That they actually had tortured him once and injured him on nearly a weekly bases. Then there was the fact that they saw him get tossed around, impaled, stabbed, lit on fire, gutted, decapitated, cut in half, electrocuted, maimed, shot, and other things he’s probably forgetting, pretty much every day; and they just watched and did nothing to help.

Sure he didn’t resent them for all of that, how could he? they didn’t know. But they would be crushed and hurt, that mattered. And that’s without even mentioning that he would effectively disprove most of their work. And yeah, they had made some headway recently and were finally recognising that created ghosts at least could be a thing. Maybe, just maybe, born ghosts too. Ancients, they were only just now starting to listen to him. Willing to face and accept that ghosts might not be the evil emotionless monsters they always thought they were. Is it so terrible that he'd like them to not hate ghosts before finding out that he was one???

Apparently the universe thought so.

But no, fuck it. He will take this secret fully to the grave before the universes crap -which the Observants probably played a role in because they hate him and want him to suffer- forces this secret to light. Fuck the universe and it’s bullshit. Groaning at the sky anyway, “you know, I always imagined it would be something crazy, utterly impossible, undeniably ghostly; that would bang me up in a life-changing way. Would force secrets to light. Not something so damn simple, so normal, so human; as a car crash”.

Both of them chuckle at him and move to pat at his shoulders. Tucker snorts, “I think it was more car ‘massacre’ than car ‘crash’”. Danny shoves him a little because people fucking died.

Sam shakes her head though, “you’re not going to tell them, are you?”.

Danny snorts and shakes his head a little; happily taking the slight distraction, “naw. Maybe someday, but that someday is not today. Fuck the universes shitty sense of comedic timing”, crossing his arms and glaring down at his legs. He can still feel the whole bandage booty shorts situation, embarrassing but fuck it. He’s going to make Lewis have to witness his shit. Even if it probably won’t make his eyeballs bleed, that guy has seen way too much weird shit to suffer mental ocular trauma from anything. But still.

Tucker and Sam exchange a Look before looking back to Danny and speaking in sync, “spite”.

Danny nods with a slight smirk, “is there ever a better reason?”.

Getting another in synch response, “not dying... further”. Danny waves them off like he couldn’t care less.

Sam shakes her head, “on a slightly serious note, what’s the plan?”.

Danny shrugs, “well should see if I even can still modify my ghostly body on a molecular level to turn solid limbs into a gas”.

Tucker snickers, “and like everything else about you, when you say it technically it sounds like some body horror shit”. Danny just finger-guns at him before going ghost and easily changing to his ghostly tail; promptly doing jazz hands.

Sam and Tucker nod, Tucker pointing at him, “well that solves that, dude”, continuing at Danny’s raised confused eyebrow, “Danny-dude, just do that half transformation thing and leave your lower half in ghost mode”.

Sam smirks and nods, turning to Tucker and talking like this has already been decided as the plan of attack, “then we can just wrap bandaging over his Phantom legs before he switches to a tail, getting the bandaged look”. Tucker hums his agreement.

Danny sticks his arms out to the side and looks almost offended, “do you know how hard half transforming is to maintain? There’s a reason I never do that shit for more than emergencies or quick jokes”.

Sam rolls her eyes at him, “deal with it”. Danny flips her off. Though really, not much of another option. Having a ghost tail in human form was drastically harder to have and maintain than half transforming.

Danny transforms his upper half back human because, eh why not? And he’s been gone for a while. Chuckling down at the black ghostly tail before smirking at his friends, “I’m three halves of a whole now. Half a body, half transformed, and half-ghost in two different ways. I don’t think anyone ever put this much effort into half-assing so many things. All because so much of me just keeps on dying. I’m a real die-hard you could say. Really killed any effort for a fully functioning life. My apparent partial lifelessness isn’t a real tear-jerker apparently, so maybe I should add some flavour and start halving onions”.

Tucker grabs Danny’s head and shoves him into the dirt; even if they’re all laughing a bit.

It takes a while before they all calm down, laying in the grass and staring up at the sky. Tucker being the first to speak up again, “so, hows it feel to be amongst the legged again?”.

Danny changes back fully human and crosses his ankles, “very leggy”, earning a round of snorts. Honestly, it was a bit weird. Especially feeling fabric over leg skin for the first time in days. He also has never been so aware over how much legs weigh. Sure his human form was always heavier than his ghost one, but wow legs weigh a lot. Well technically legs and pelvis. And it was also weird that having legs again felt weird; really it should feel like a return to normalcy, instead the leglessness had become like normalcy, Either it was really easy to get used to or he was one overall adaptable son of a corpse. It was probably the latter.

The three scrunch their faces up and groan in sync as it starts raining, lightly at first before suddenly coming down in a torrential downpour; resulting in them scrambling up. Danny transforming and grabbing them up, intangibly and invisibly flying them back to his house. Returning to the visible spectrum in his room.

Sam takes two steps before stepping in something definitely still wet and grimacing at Danny, “this is why we never take our shoes off”. Danny just shrugs her off while changing back human, feet planting on the ground with a little plop, and flopping face down onto his bed.

His friends following suit on top of him. Tucker muttering, “ow”, after basically smashing his forehead into Danny’s shoulder brace.

Danny snorts, “I’m not paying for your concussion treatment”.

Seconds later Jazz practically slams the door open, “finally, where have you been Danny???”. Managing to actually startle Danny (since his nose was blocked by his bed), who startles everyone else by pushing himself up so fast his braces make concerning cracking sounds and his very human legs suddenly becoming a ghostly tail; which completely off balances him and, combined with his momentum, sends him falling to the floor. Landing on his ass/tail base with a startled ‘oof’, just as Maddie sticks her head in the doorway.

Maddie blinks and looks slightly apologetic, assuming she startled him enough for him to mess up with the floating, “oh sorry sweetie, I came up to let you two, four now I guess, know that supper will be ready in half an hour”, then scrunching up her face and realising something’s not right here. Pointing at his tail, “why is It pink, and covered in hearts?”.

Danny has to physically bite his tongue to avoid gapping as he glances down at his tail. What the fuck. It has never been that easy in human form? And he wasn’t even having to maintain it? The fuck?

Sam comes to his rescue near-instantly though, “uh, we wanted to see what would happen if he tried putting normal clothing over It and It just kinda absorbed it”. Maddie can’t help but smile at that, kids will be kids.

Danny awkwardly adding, “and it’s not like the, uh, bandaging is a forever thing, and, uh, I don’t think It would, like, look very good flesh-coloured?”. He, in fact, knew It wouldn’t. His mom makes a face and nods while his friends snicker at him, the assholes.

Maddie tilts her head, a little curious how his tail even did that. This didn’t happen when he had apparently had a hoodie draped over It when he first came home? Maybe -what she’s just going to assume is a ‘gift’ from Pamela for Sam. She will never see eye to eye with that woman. Sure her and Jack did push the kids to be hunters, but they didn’t try to control their entire lives- the pants were fairly tight around his tail? She’d ask but considering he looks a little startled, she’s not going to press. Shaking her head, “well hopefully you can undo it, in case this happens with any clothing you actually care about”, frowning slightly, “I also hope this doesn’t interfere with Dan’s work”.

Danny blinks, still confused enough by his body to be unphased by the Dan name, “uh, yeah don’t wanna go giving him a heart attack”. Everyone shakes their heads.

Maddie electing to head back to the kitchen, “I’ll call when foods ready”, the door closing behind her.

Sam and Tucker look to Danny’s pink heart-covered tail then to his face, “Danny, what the Hell”.

Danny throws up his hands, “I panicked alright!”.

“Since when does your panic help anything?!?”.

“Since now apparently!”.

Jazz blinks, “I’m going to guess this-”, gesturing at Danny’s tail, “- wasn’t intentional”, putting her hands on her hips, “and Danny, you are lucky mom just waved me off to go check on you and stayed in the lab. You’ve been missing for hours. You know how they get". Her chastising earning some apologetic neck rubbing, before Danny emphatically gestures at his tail which suddenly pops into pj-covered legs. Making her jump a little, “oh! Your legs! They grew back!”, quickly moving to sit down on the floor and grab at one of his bare feet. Then glaring at him for suddenly changing back to his tail; leaving her grasping onto the tip of his tail.

Sam and Tucker both jerk a bit from the sudden change themselves, before falling over laughing loudly, the pink heart-covered look was still not flattering. Danny looking baffled doesn’t help either. Though he does eventually snort and start snickering before flopping to lay on the floor laughing with them; Jazz just shakes her head at the trio's antics.

Danny snickers, “I guess the hearts really felt my hearts deepest desires! Really trying to be lovable! Since I was just being a total bleeding-heart earlier!”.

Jazz audibly scowls and stands up, “on that painful note, I'm going to help mom. I’m assuming this leg issue was why you just up and disappeared”. Shaking her head when Sam adds in, “and he fell asleep. In a tree”.

Danny throws out his hands, still laying on the ground, “it’s comfy!”, while Jazz heads downstairs.

Sam eventually glances at the calmly waving tail before looking back to the ceiling, “guess your body got so used to the tail that it comes easier now?”.

Danny huffs, “no fucking clue”, shrugging, “but probably. I doubt I’d even change back automatically from tiredness or sleeping or injury. So you can have your heart back”, intentionally turning back to legs purely to phase off the pj’s dramatically by flinging them up into the air; easily changing back to a bandage-looking tail. This kinda solved his problem, he still had a tail. Easily and naturally so. And! he had legs too! The best two for one deal ever! Which fine, he was glad to have again. Even though it was straight crazy that he could regrow entire limbs. Half his body pretty much. Sure Lewis has ‘said’ they were regrowing but them actually regrowing was a whole-ass-nother thing.

The three watch the pj’s float down out of the air onto their faces, Danny snickering and speaking mockingly, “ahhhh. Heart attack”. Earning hard hits from his friends.

Tucker rolls his eyes, “you already used that one today, and are you just going to stick with a tail all the time now?”.

Danny shrugs noncommittally. The answer was probably yes, in human form anyway. His friends obviously can tell he’s basically come to that decision since they both hit him again, Sam snapping without much feeling, “you fucking idiot”; everyone falling back into silence after,

Danny contentedly winding his tail around their legs. Which fine, he had become more than a little fond of being able to do that and his tail in general. He has a feeling ClockWork would, and probably is, actively smirking over him just sticking to a ghostly tail; just like them. Which yes, only serves to encourage Danny.

(Off in the far off realm of the Ghost Zone, a couple Observants hand trinkets over to ClockWork; having lost various bets. ClockWork simply smirks, one would think they’d know better by now. But no, most of their egos were a smidge too large. But it was a quite enjoyable way to teach the Observants a lesson about the future not being set in stone... And that Daniel tended to take the uncommon (and thus unviewable to the Observants) route)

Danny eventually grunting and lifts up his thermos with his tail, “so Skulker wants to harass the doc for my scraps”.

Tucker snorts, “poor bastard, only just met you and he’s already got a ghostly pest”.

“Oh I don’t know Tuck, seems more like a fast way to put whether or not the friendly-ish sorta cannibal can eat things past their expiration date to the test”. Danny would kinda like to know if Vee could eat him or not. Sure a human definitely couldn’t, ectoplasm was toxic after all. But again, fucking aliens. And Lewis seemingly thinks Vee can eat fucking everything.

Sam pushes herself up to glare down at him, “I find it seriously hard to believe a cannibal is ‘friendly’”. Tucker snickers, “yeah, probably steal your scraps from doctor dude or Skulker for a snack”.

Danny waves his hand around as much as the braces will let him, “oh he’s clearly a real people person. If they wanted my scraps they coulda just shown up in the amputee ward, they’d have some real meals on wheels then”.

Sam smacks him over the head with a very disgusted scowl, “your mind is a fucking sin and that so-called ‘diet’ is even worse”.

Danny smirks, “well if they feel like repenting via a little taste of religion, I know a few annoying priests that show up every month or so”. Seriously, he could really do without those type thinking ghosts were demons, or that Phantom was the ‘anti-Christ’, or Amity was a displaced section of Hell, or that Phantom was the second coming of Christ. Outside of the mixed messages, it was also supremely annoying.

All three jerk a bit from a very loud yell from Tucker’s pocket, “Jesus fucking Christ no! We are not eating a fucking priest! I’m not that depraved!-hey don’t you-I liked that coffee pot, you fucker and now look at it? It’s on the fucking ground. No I am not going to just ‘go get it’, you’re the one that chucked it out the window-no don’t you fucking-!”, followed by some scratching, clattering sounds, and a loud thump.

The three sit up and Tucker cautiously pulls out his PDA and everyone just stares at it. Danny tilting his head, he’s heard that voice before. Poking the PDA with his tail, “huh, I think Eddie hacked your PDA”.

Tucker gives him a look of deep offence before looking back to the PDA in question at the sound of a very long string of swears, “I’m going to fucking strangle you, I fucking swear. Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck you. I’m going to eat nothing but fucking pickles and salad dressing tonight-bitch don’t tempt me or I’ll set it on fire before I eat it-oh my god you baby”, there’s a bit of stomping and a slamming door, followed by what the three are assuming is the sound of glass jars hitting each other, “see look at these fucking pickles!-oh fucking watch me-oh fuck! Gak. They’re fucking expired. Oh god shit. Why me?-shut up bitch”.

Danny and Tucker both bend over wheezing, PDA falling unceremoniously onto the bed. While Sam raises her eyebrows and asks sounding almost annoyed, “why is eating veggies a threat? What’s so hard about eating vegetables? Seriously, what’s the hardest part of a vegetable to eat?”.

Danny snaps his head to her, grins, and shouts, “the wheelchair!”. Sam shoves him off the bed shouting, “that’s horrible!”. Danny just lets himself land on the floor.

“Oh shit! The phone’s still on. Fuck-WHY WOULD A VEGETABLE HAVE A WHEELCHAIR-different kind of vegetable, Vee. Use fucking Google. Living impaired guy, or whatever, is talking about people-PEOPLE ARE NOT VEGETABLES EDDIE! THEY DO NOT GROW IN DIRT-Jesus, just use fucking google holy shit. And-wait a minute, Dead Guy are you seriously using a fucking PDA? No way you’re not old using a fucking PDA, what is this? the fucking nineties?”.

Tucker straightens up and points aggressively at his PDA, “hey! You take that back! You’re gonna hurt Lisa’s feelings! PDA’s are a gift upon us all!”, snatching his PDA off the bed and rubbing his face on it, “don't listen to him sweetie, a phone could never keep up with all your glorious curves and circuits”.

“What the fuck? Is that what I sound like when I say Vee’s better than humans?-YES. LIKE A DUMBASS-fuck you-MY DUMBASS”. Tucker jerks away from the mic and everyone makes disgusted horrified faces at the strange kinda wet sounds.

Sam grimaces deeper, “should we ask?”.

Danny chuckles slightly, “considering Lewis’s tendril comments. No”. He so doesn’t want to hear about that.

A bunch of coughing sounds through the mic, “why is Dan telling people about my se-”, get cut off by the three teens shrieking or shouting and Danny shoving a pillow over the PDA. “NO!”.

Danny peals back the pillow and growls a little, “dude there are minors here, we don’t wanna hear about that shit. Oh my Zone. And I thought Lewis had a near nonexistent filter”.

“Eh whatever. Wait, how many people am I even talking to?-THREE, EDDIE. THERE’S THREE VOICES-well maybe I would have been paying attention to that if someone hadn’t tossed me out a fucking window-PUSSY-bitch”.

Tucker starts wheezing again, muttering, “how does this guy maintain a conversation with anyone?”. Which yeah, Danny slightly agrees with that sentiment.

“Hey, fuck you. It’s my job to talk to people. I’m pretty fucking good at it-OVER HALF THE PEOPLE YOU TALK TO TRY TO KILL US, EDDIE-bitch I don’t see you complaining about that when you get a snack out of it”.

Tucker wheezes a little more, “how have you not been arrested?”, while Danny and Sam scowl at the PDA in disgust.

Danny points at Tucker, “their city apparently supports their people eating. It’s, like, common knowledge”, Sam turns her disgusted scowl to him.

“Debatable. I think the cops are just scared we’ll eat them-WHICH WE WILL-no! We do not eat cops! How many times have I said that?-STILL GOING TO EAT THEM-no we will not!-EDDIE-no!-WHAT ABOUT CHOCOLATE DIPPED?-Jesus fuck. No”.

Sam mock gags, “could we not talk about eating people with a vegetarian present?”.

Tucker gives her a pouty face, “awww come on, we’ve all got our tastes”.

Danny points at him, “usually not people-flavoured though”.

“Isn’t it just like chicken though?”.

“No. No it’s not-MUCH BETTER!-I don’t think you’re a good judge of that babe-I AM AN EXCELLENT JUDGE. KLYNTAR HAVE MANY MORE TASTE BUDS THAN YOU FLESH BAGS”.

Tucker scoffs and crosses his arms, Danny’s already preparing for him to say something stupid. “I’m the real meat conisure here, I’ll be the judge of that”.

“Kid, did you seriously just ask-WE HAVE A SPARE LIVER IF YOU'RE CURIOUS-where the fuck did that come from!?!? Where even was that?!?! What the fuck Vee!?!!?! How many times have I said we don’t do take-out!-NOT AGAINST THE RULES IF NO ONE NOTICES-oh my god. That is not how rules, or the law for that matter, works”.

Danny shoves Tucker, “Tuck, what did I say about asking for snacks? Zone dude. Now they’re gonna show up with a fucking liver in a suitcase and with my luck someone else is gonna find that and think I murdered someone”.

“Finally got another name, nice. And eh you’d be surprised how easy it is to hide murder and body parts. And how much cops are willing to ignore”.

Sam snorts, “smooth spooky”.

Danny blushes a little, whoops, “you have no idea how bad my luck is”.

“Speaking of spooky, figured that echoey voice crap would sound way more fucked over the phone. You don’t even seem to have an echo. And blame whoever has the PDA, do you just not expect anyone to back-hack you? Sure that was some hard shit and I can’t access shit-”, Tucker beams very smugly at this, “-but you hacked me first. What was even the point of that? Even basic research makes it obvious dead guy is based in Amity Park. And you did that just to tell me I got your age wrong-HE’S MORE PETTY THAN YOU EDDIE-that is not a compliment”.

Danny smirks and transforms purely for his ghostly echoing voice, his friends rolling their eyes knowing exactly what he’s doing. Sam speaks almost dryly, “if anything ever gets spooky over here destroyed, it’ll be his sense of humour”.

Danny chuckles deeply, voice reverberating intentionally creepily, “it’ll be the death of me, seeing as I have killer timing”, waving his hand around, “and us spookies are petty creatures. We wear petty like it’s all that makes us pretty”.

“Huh, so you definitely can change your voice. Congrats Vee, your voice isn’t the only one that sounds ridiculously fucking demonic-APPROVE. FAR MORE THREATENING. LIKE A PREDATOR-I don’t think that counts as a compliment either babe-HE HUNTS HIS OWN! IT IS A COMPLIMENT!-eh, I guess? What’s up with that anyway, dead guy?-HE’S A PREDATOR, PREDATORS FIGHT, EDDIE. OBVIOUSLY-says the big bad predator who’d rather become one with the couch in a sea of chocolate wrappers and watch Alton Brown make people suffer-THEY DESERVE TO WEAR FLIPPERS AND ARM SPREADERS FOR BURNING THE LAMB!”.

Tucker nods his head a little, “yeah, burning lamb should be a crime”, while a little buzzing sound comes through the mic.

Danny rolls his eyes at him, “that’s the guy from Cut Throat Kitchen isn’t it? Doesn’t he buy stuff from BDSM stores for those challenges”. Tucker nods with a smirk, “and that’s kinky”, and gets smacked over the head by Sam.

Danny shakes his head and leans over the PDA, “I’m a protective fellow, I beat up ghosties to protect. Ya know, the typical hero schtick, but with death. It’s a real grim job, but I absolutely reap the rewards”, looking to Sam and Tucker, “one day I’m gonna cash in all these trauma points for a fucking yacht”.

Tucker quirks an eyebrow, “why a yacht?”. Sam adding, “you know I’ve got one. They’re okay”.

“One of you has a fucking yacht?!? Anne warned me I’d be out of my depth but holy fuck-NOT HARD WHEN YOU’RE PUSSY MADE-how the fuck do you know that term?!? And just eat your fucking tater tots”.

Danny snorts, “someone’s a real tater thot”, looking at Tucker, “one, because that’s one thing Frootloop doesn’t own”.

“Fair”.

“Wow you are really petty as shit”.

Danny scowls at the PDA, “dude fucking nearly caused the apocalypse, like, four bloody times”, rolling his hand, “and there’s the whole sorta have a daughter, or cousin, or sister, eh it changes; ‘cause of his cloning stunt-”.

Danny doesn’t get to continue as Vee butts in with, “WE’RE SPAWNING ASWELL-what, fucking what? What the fuck do you mean ‘spawning’? No you so do not get to hide in my body after that shit, get the fuck out here bitch. Oh my fuck, what the fuck. This is what Anne means by fucking communication issues. What the fuck you fuck. Jesus fucking Christ. What the fucking shit. That is not how you tell anyone anything, you fuck. Now I want a yacht to sail away from fucking everything and become a fucking pirate. Your oily ass will love that so much because there will be so many lobsters to shove up everyone's collective assholes but especially yours-SAME ASSHOLE SO GO AHEAD BITCH, THAT WOULD BE DELICIOUS-ha! Tricked you with the old lobster summoning, now the fuck do you mean spawning!-”

Tucker whispers, “Zone these guys have so many issues”. Sam and Danny just nod, not wanting to interrupt this because it is, frankly, hilarious.

“IT IS NATURAL EDDIE-I sure fucking hope so, otherwise we’ve got a fair few fucking problems going on-THEN STOP BEING A PUSSY WET BITCH-where do you learn this shit? Fucking fourchan? And excuse me for being an emotional asshole, asshole. I think I’ve fucking earned it considering-”.

All three teens turn their heads as Valerie flies in through the window and deactivates her board at seeing them sitting around a PDA but giving it a wide berth.

“-I’m apparently fucking pregnant!”.

Valerie blinks as her suit deactivates, “what have I just walked in on”. It sounds more like a cautious statement than a question.

Danny points at her, “technically, you flew”, she glares at him while he continues, “Eddie’s having some... issues, apparently”.

“‘Some’?”.

“Oh fuck the phones still on. You heard all of that didn’t you? Fuck-DUMBASS-fuck you, this is your fault. I need a fucking drink”.

Danny chuckles and smirks a bit meanly, “yes, yes we did”.

Valerie shakes her head and speaks down at the PDA, “are you okay?”.

“No”, Eddie promptly hanging up.

Valerie watching the other teens descend into fits of laughter for a bit before asking, “what did I miss?”.

Tucker wheezes, “probably one of the best random meltdowns ever”, smacking Danny’s arm braces, “you should probably warn doctor dude you gave his friend an accidental crises!”.

Danny just chuckles, he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone swear that much that quickly. And considering he’s somewhat friends-ish with Johnny, that’s saying something. Pointing at Tucker, “for the love of all the Ancients, tell me you recorded that. Because, by the Realms, that was glorious”. He also totally wants to show Johnny, and Skulker actually, maybe Ember and Kitty; they’d be fucking impressed honestly. Possibly Pandora too, if only for Eddie just straight up going feral rage mode for a bit there.

Tucker nods eagerly with a wide smirk, instantly being granted a high five; even getting one from Sam.

As his mom calls that supper’s ready, Danny pulls out his phone; because he is not calling Lewis while he might be having special time with the bone saw.

DPain: so stormed Area 51 might being having a mild melt down bout being pregnant

DPain: and it might

DPain: possibly

DPain: maybe

DPain: be my fault

Tucker chokes next to him, “dude, you do realise how that sounds right?”. Making Danny facepalm as the four (not three like Maddie was expecting, but she just sets another plate with a smile and head shake) sit at the table; Danny checking his phone when it goes off.

Tiethief: so you’re why I have 11 new voicemails

DPain: 😇

Danny barely gets through his (very mushy, fuck you Jazz) mashed potatoes before there’s a knock on the door. It’s not a scent Danny recognises so he tears off Tucker’s hoodie to cover his tail up. Rolling his eyes at the guy’s scowl, Danny would just blink his tail out of the visible spectrum if his not-in-the-know parents weren’t around. While one of said parents, his mom who hadn’t even sat down yet, gets the door.

“Hello Mrs. Fenton, I’m officer Jared Walker”, the four teens -and Jazz- all choke at that last name and share ‘seriously? Why is this our lives?’ Looks. “I’m here to conduct a welfare check for Daniel Fenton. May I come in?”.

Danny cringes, this probably wasn’t a good thing. FentonWorks wasn’t exactly... safe. Oh who was he kidding? FentonWorks was a mind field of danger and death; and not just ‘cause his dead ass was here. And what if he wants to check out his room? Oh Ancients he absolutely is going to want to check that out. Fuck.

Sam and Tucker obviously have the same worries as they finish their plates and start to move towards the stairs; probably to make a mad dash to his room to make it not look like a probable biohazard.

While his mom obviously lets the guy in, would arguably be worse not to, “sure thing, Danny’s at the table having lunch, his doctor’s doing a final shift at the hospital right now though. You could come back later to talk to him? Or would you like me to call him?”.

Jared steps in and looks at the two teens starting to head up the stairs and then to Valerie, “I’m sure you’d like to hang out with your friend and make sure he’s well, but I’ll have to ask you to leave”, tilting his head not unkindly, “this is a family matter; you understand”.

The three teens obey, because this is a cop for fucks sake; and they like to at least pretend to be proper law-abiding citizens. Sam and Tucker shooting him apologetic looks and Valerie giving him a little forehead kiss as they leave. Danny makes a damn point to make sure his smile doesn’t look painfully nervous.

Jared looks back to Maddie, “that’s quite alright, I’m sure I could get into contact if I need to”. Jazz offers him tea which he declines, “do you think you could go to your room, Jasmine? I’d like to speak with your parents and brother alone if that’s alright?”.

She nods, ruffling Danny’s hair up as she stands, which he of course scowls at and swats her hand away. Even if that, like usual, only accomplishes making her grin at him. Jazz completely ignores Danny’s bedroom door, knowing Jared would likely notice if she tried to go in.

(Sam and Tucker outside both decide that trying to sneak into at least clean Danny’s room wasn’t the best idea. Seeing as they had Valerie as a tag along and there was another cop sitting out in the police cruiser on the curb. Plus, cleaning Danny’s room would take a goddamn while and would be, frankly, disgusting to do. So they just hope Danny’s got something up under his spooky sleeves)

Jared joins the Fenton parents in sitting at the table, sending a smile to Danny, “you doing well today?”.

Danny gives an awkward nod and knocks his hand brace against his chest brace, “I’ll be better once I’m rid of these stupid things”, making the officer chuckle.

“That’ll hopefully be sooner rather than later”, turning to the parents’, “I'm just here to see how things are going, what sort of accommodations have been made or are being made, the state of the house, how school work’s being handled, and to speak with Daniel privately. Standard procedure”.

Jack beams, ever eager to brag about inventions, “we had a hover cushion built for him before he got home! So he’d have a way to get around right off the bat!”.

Danny grumbles at the cop, “I don’t like being carried or pushed around”, which was something of an understatement; his ghostly pride could only take so much of that. And that ‘so much’ was very little, ah the joys of being powerful. Made being ‘weak’ all the more bloody fucking awful. Maddie adds in with a warm smile at Danny, “we did order a wheelchair though”.

Jared looks pleased at this and notes everything down, “hospital approved? And could I see this... hover cushion?”.

Jack jumps up and gives Danny a curious raised eyebrow, “bedroom, next to the door, dad”, Jack nods curtly and bounds up the steps.

Jared raises an eyebrow at Danny, “any particular reason it’s not down here with you?”.

Danny blinks, oh because he wanted to get around on his freaking tail and doesn’t need no damn help to get around. He can’t tell this random cop that though. The tail is abso-fucking-lutely staying a secret if he can help it, “uh, it’s pretty snug and Doc said I should let things breathe here and there”, that’s utter bullshit, but probably accurate for normal amputation wounds. Realising he should probably explain how the Zone he got downstairs without it, “and there’s a pretty big difference between friends and family carrying me and, uh-”, blushing a bit both genuinely and to sell the lie, “-the girlfriend carrying me”.

Jared grins to himself at that, “ah yes, that is pretty different. She handling this well?”.

Danny nods and smiles, she was handling it about as well as most people would; maybe a little better. Him seemingly giving very little of a damn about his ‘leglessness’ probably helped slightly. After all, she did decide to give the whole ‘them’ thing a shot again. Jack comes back with the hover-cushion before he can even attempt to tell the guy any of that.

Jack shows off the device and powers it up, show that it does, in fact, work. Jared blinks and grins, “I’ll admit, I’m impressed”, and makes some more notes in his book, “it alright if I take pictures? Purely for documentation purposes. And the wheelchair?”.

Maddie nods, giving him the go-ahead, while moving to grab up her copy of the documentation for the ridiculous wheelchair Danny ordered and handing that over. “It’s not hospital approved but Dan said it would be fine, he was here when we ordered it”.

Jared nods acceptingly -obviously aware of who Danny’s doctor was- and tilts his head a little, “expensive, you footing the cost if the hospital can’t cover it? This isn’t a standard type either, athletic wheelchair?”.

Danny nods and grins almost meanly, “have you seen Amity?”, should he be sassing a cop? No, probably not. Jared nods a little, while Maddie speaks up, “we can cover the whole bill if needed. So long as Danny’s happy”. Jared nods and smiles at that.

“Alright, I’d ask if there’s been modifications to the stairs but you’ve found a different suitable workaround. Same with if everything has been moved to be in reach”, nodding at his notebook before looking back to them, “so how about schooling?”.

Danny rubs his neck awkwardly, “I’m working on the catchup and homework, uh, keyword being ‘working’”. Jared chuckles at that, typical teen behaviour.

Maddie pats Danny’s head, “Jazz made sure to talk with all his teachers. She’s friends with most of them. Sam and Tucker brought his work home for him”.

Jared raises an eyebrow at that, “and what about you?”. Jack laughs a bit loudly before rubbing his neck, “ah, the school prefers we don’t come unless we have to. We tend to break things”.

Danny’s pretty sure that’s a mark against his parents’ in the cops' book. So he tries to save face a little, “ghost hunting is a pretty destructive job”, he would know. Jared seems to think on that for a beat before nodding.

From what Jared’s heard and seen, ghost hunters were effectively cops here but for ghosts; which were much more dangerous than the average human criminal. He’s not about to fault them for their career. Schools didn’t particularly like cops showing up either, makes people on edge usually. And considering the school turned out to actually be a hot spot for ghosts, ghost hunters showing up out of the blue would absolutely cause at least a little panic.

Jack laughs a bit more, “plus! Frees us up to work more on the CyberSteps!”. Jared quirks an eyebrow at that so Maddie elaborates, “robotic prosthetic legs. Dan’s been helping as well”. Jack grins wide, “yup! Got to make sure they’re perfect!”.

Jared blinks, “you are... making your own prosthetics?”. Danny immediately blurts out, “walked on a prototype already. Not, um, quite good yet”, adding because holy shit he knows this is probably all kinds of illegal, Lewis kinda said so, “doc was there”. He’s going to get Lewis in trouble at this rate. He should probably shut up. Shutting up wasn’t one of his notable skills though.

Jared nods, “so you were... under certified medical care?”. Danny just nods, his folks nodding too. Jared notes that down as well.

Jared is pretty sure there isn’t much to worry about at this point. Bad or abusive parents wouldn’t go to the lengths of creating break through technology. And they were obviously putting the boy first, making him comfortable and happy. But that still didn’t explain certain things and that didn’t mean the house was suitable. From what he’s seen so far the house was... acceptable. Little messy and... odd. There were certainly some strange stains, burns, damages, and technological bits lying around. Certainly unacceptable for a small child, but Daniel was a teen.

Nodding to himself, “I think that covers that. I’d like to look around now”, with that the Fenton parents’ get up. Jared watches the teen easily manoeuvre into the hover cushion contraption, does a little spin in the air, and sends him an awkward smile. Daniel then squints at him and tilts his head, “Jared Walker... as in J. Walker, like jaywalker”, and starts snickering.

Jared rolls his eyes with a smile, “laugh it up kid”, that just makes the teen smirk.

Most of the first floor is marginally normal, acceptable, when Jack very enthusiastically points out the weapons vault though, “is this secure? And this is just for anti-ghost weapons correct?”.

Maddie nods immediately, she could see how a cop might have a few issues with this, “designed to be secure, from both humans and ghosts. Ecto-Fiber glass and sheets block them from getting in intangibly”. Danny mentally grumbles, because he had found that out the hard way and it had been inconvenient on more than one occasion. Jared just nods as they head down to the lab.

Jared glances around before raising a slightly disbelieving eyebrow at the parents’, the amount of hazards here were, honestly, uncountable. Bits of metal (some being very sharp), wiring, chemicals, samples, weapons, glowing... stuff, and the leg creation things.

Jack laughs, “yeah, it can be a bit of a mess! The kiddos are well versed in lab safety though!”. Danny resists pointing out that he usually cleaned the place. That probably wouldn’t win any brownie points.

Jared blinks and gives a rather disbelievingly, “uh-huh”, before responding in genuine, “is this the normal condition of things? And what about supervision while anyone’s down here? It is more than likely Daniel here will be a bit clumsy for a while”, this was unsafe in so many ways.

Maddie ruffles Danny’s hair as he grumbles incoherently and blushes, “Danny’s rather clumsy normally”.

Danny adding, “school still won’t let me handle fragiles”, even though he was much better, fuck you very much. Jared looks just a little unimpressed, he was probably trying to not show the fact that he was not impressed. Which Danny thinks is fair.

Maddie continues, “but yes this is how things usually are. This is the one place where we have a camera system, so it’s pretty secure and we can see if anything’s going on whether we’re home or not. We didn’t allow the kids down here when they were young, and they had to have one of us with them until they could show they knew what they were doing”. Jack butting eagerly, “a family of inventors invent together!”, shrugging, “or at least are all involved in the process”.

Danny looks around awkwardly, well aware that he at least partly died because of crappy lab safety on everyone's part. Jared notes somethings and glances at Danny but says nothing.

What then follows is Jared basically getting the lab tour, asking about nearly everything and taking notes. Eventually coming to the portal, always the last thing his folks showed off since it was their pride and joy, “and this?”.

Danny gives the blunt answer of, “ghost portal”, because screw him, screwing with people was fun. Jared gives him a Look, which Danny can’t help smirking at, before looking to his parents and raising an eyebrow.

Jack laughs and smacks the frame, “yup! This baby opens up right into the spookies backyard!”. Maddie grins and adds, “we use it mostly for research purposes, to return captured ghosts, and as a warning system in case of invasions”, then speaking a bit sternly, “going inside it is strictly forbidden and it has a genetic lock”. Danny tries to make it look like he wasn’t paying attention, seeing as he went through those doors almost more often than his front doors.

Jared still looks rather disbelieving, “you have a portal to another dimension in your basement?”, shaking his head a little, “I mean, I’m glad it has a strong lock. Do ghosts ever come through?”.

Maddie shakes her head a little, “we have used things to pull ghosts through intentionally. Research you know. But as for them coming through on their own? No”. Danny has to bite his tongue to avoid snorting at that, his folks were insanely oblivious. The portal was literally the main entryway into his home. He’s pretty sure the only ones who don’t almost always use it are Skulker and the Box Ghost. Well, and most animal ghosts.

Jared takes that answer for what it is and wonders how the Hell you're supposed to rate ‘has a portal to the dimension of the dead under his bedroom’ on literally any safety scale. He’d say this is something that should be in a government facility but the G.I.W. approval rate was abysmal. And with good reason based on basic research. But side-eyeing the teen, he seemed to give the portal a look of fondness actually... and annoyance; but fond annoyance. So he does make a point to mark down that the kid seemed to like the thing, for whatever forsaken reason.

Jared taps his pen on his notebook, “alright, is there any other rooms other than bedrooms?”.

Danny does the dumb thing and blurts out, “well, there’s the torture dungeon”, making the guy give a very satisfactory choke.

Maddie shakes her head at Danny fondly before looking to the officer, “something’s down there are on the medieval side”. Jack just chuckles, “the stockades are more for storage and old school equipment”.

Danny mumbling, “you mean like the Iron Maiden and other instruments of extreme pain and suffering?”, which Jared thankfully doesn’t hear.

Maddie smiles, “our family have been hunters for generations, so we’ve inherited older tools of the trade”, shrugging, “some that work, some that definitely don't. Family heirlooms really”. Jared nods at that, anything medieval could come off as ‘torture devices’ and he’s starting to get the feeling this teen has a serious sense of humour and likes startling people. Arguably this seemed on par with people keeping their ancestors' old weapons. Meant for ghosts or not.

“Alright, so just the bedroom now. Don’t worry, I only need to see his”, and smiles, totally missing Danny muttering, “and that’s not a good thing”. Jared continuing, “just one more question, regarding the family profession actually. Does Daniel hunt as well? With you? If not, are you training him to? If so, how are you taking into account his disability and healing?”.

Jack scratches his head, “eh, Danny-boy’s not particularly interested in ghost hunting. He is pretty good with tech though! Like every Fenton!”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “so no, they aren’t having me running, or floating, around with guns, shooting sentient beings for sport or science”, and he’s not going to mention his dad sorta trying to get him into weaponised prosthetics. Danny’s pretty sure effectively -literally really- attaching guns and knives and stuff to your kids robo-legs would be a big no-no. Especially to an out-of-town cop.

Maddie smiles and pats his head, “and if he wants combat training, survival training, or anything else of the kind, he can simply ask. I’m trained in a lot of different areas”.

Jared nods at that, “everyone could benefit from that. Good that you’re not forcing it though”, scribbling down a bit more before closing the notebook and tucking it away, “alright, I think I’ve got a good picture of how things are”, sending the parents a slight smile before looking to Danny, “now you feel up to giving this old man the bedroom tour? I’m certain you, like most teens, know it better than your parents do”. Jared absolutely mentally notes that while everyone laughs at that, Danny’s laugh is a little awkward and nervous; he probably had somethings in there he’d rather his parents not know about. He can’t help smirking slightly at that, ah teens. Danny just glares and gestures towards the steps, everyone heading up.

Jared nods at the parents’ as they sit at the table while he heads up to the bedrooms after Danny.

Maddie sitting down with a sigh. Jack speaking up after the two are out of sight, “think he’ll be okay?”. Maddie rubs her eyes, she’s pretty sure them not getting a call about the visit meant there was something else going on, “I don’t know Jack, I’m just a bit worried what Danny’ll say, what he’ll be asked”, looking to her husband, “our house and family isn’t exactly normal or particularly safe, Jack”, biting her lip slightly, “many people might think any child, especially a... disabled one, would be better off somewhere else”. Because at the end of the day, Danny was disabled now, CyberSteps or not. And he had been through what was arguably a traumatic event, he seemed fine but still; she’s sure Jazz was keeping a very close eye on him for that very reason. Most people would want a disabled possibly traumatised injured kid in a safe, sturdy, structured, adaptable, loving home and family. Her family had the last two in spades, but the rest? She be kidding herself if she even tried to think their household was ‘safe’ or ‘structured’. She forgot to get him supper till one a.m. for peat's sake! Not to mention actively and repeatedly testing out prototypes on him. Sure there wasn’t another option but still. Even ignoring that, things in the house often reacted to him; usually seemed harmless but not always.

But at the same time, what family or house could even understand or attempt to support someone like Danny? With his ectoplasm, ghostly tail, and Core? She’s pretty sure Dan was an extreme outlier in being totally unphased by those things, especially being from out of town. And like Dan, her and Jack were doctors. Sure it was in a different way and different fields, but they were effectively Danny’s doctors for his more... ghostly things. If anything Danny needed to be here, with his family, more than most teens needed to be with theirs.

Jack moves to rub her shoulders, “he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid, Mads. And I’m sure the officer will see that -while weird and unconventional- he’s good here”.

Meanwhile upstairs Danny is hovering over his bed looking more than a little awkward and Jared is glancing around the room in shock. Jared blinks and scrunches up his nose, “kid, this smells worse than the morgue when the ac breaks”, lifting up his foot and putting it back down cautiously, making a faint squelching sound, “you know I’m gonna need an explanation for this”. There’s no pussyfooting around this, this is worse than literally every crime scene he’s ever been to. And he’s based from New York, so that should be saying something.

Danny chuckles and it’s extremely awkward, “yeah, uh, this probably ain’t gonna win me any points, but I like to joke that my room could make a crime scene investigator cry and the cleanup crew quit outright”, shrugging, “I have been meaning to clean, but uh, it doesn’t really bother me”.

“Kid, that ain’t normal. And that also doesn’t answer how this happened”. Jared is seriously hoping he isn’t dealing with some killer kid situation. Those were awful.

Danny rubs his neck, not entirely sure there’s any way out of this, he pretty actively screwed himself here, “uh, besides me not being very clean being a factor, you’re probably standing in a cesspool of pop, coffee, energy drinks, some cleaning solution stuff from when I actually mildly attempted to clean and just dumped it on the floor and shoved it around with my foot, probably some decomposed food, ectoplasm, and yeah, uh, blood”, then wincing slightly, because yeah, not impressing mr. Cop.

Jared glances to the floor, blinks, and looks back to the teen. Teens were lazy sure, but this was something else. This was beyond unsanitary, this was a downright biohazard and completely unliveable. And he might know the what, but the why? Heck, even the how. For the carpet alone to be this soaked, “whose blood. And the ectoplasm? Kid, for your floor to be this soaked you’d have to have dumped literal bucket loads of liquids on it. Bucket loads”. And watches the teen actively wince, obviously aware of this fact.

Danny looks around, actively avoiding eye contact, “I mean, you’re not wrong. My room’s kinda the ‘hang out’ spot, I guess, for me and my friends. So it’s not strictly my mess”, shrugging, “Tuck’s probably left a fair amount of meat scraps around and I’m pretty sure Sam’s trying to grow a rare fungus in one corner”. Valerie’s probably left a gun or two around too, but he’s not going to mention that.

“Kid, you have got to be kidding me. I know Amity is strange, but this is a little beyond”.

Danny shrugs again, looking back to the guy, “sorry pal, I’m probably certifiably the strangest kid in the entire town. Me and my friends are literally known as the weirdo trio. Sometimes the defect quartet when Val’s with us”, smirking a little to himself and knowing Sam will love him for this, “we are the weirdos mister”, and grinning cheekily.

Jared blinks very slowly, this teen just quoted a movie at him in response to him pointing out this was insane and that this floor was a biohazard. He blinks again and elects to just... ignore that, “still waiting on that ‘why’ for the... floor”.

Danny chuckles a bit meanly at the freaked cop before shaking his head a bit aggressively and looking around awkwardly, “ah, uh, it’s mostly, ah, mine? Which yeah I know is probably, like, super concerning. But it’s fine”, no point even trying to lie here, because a bloody fucking cop absolutely could just sample his floor and test it for, well, everything. And if he could avoid Tucker having to hack the fucking cops any more than he already did, by being just slightly honest. Then that’s what he’s gonna do.

Jared blinks again, arms slack at his side, before walking over and sitting down next to the teen on the bed. Daniel following suit by letting the hover thing float down to ‘sit’ him on the bed; this kid could read people at least a little, “buckets of blood is not ‘fine’, Daniel. And the ectoplasm?”, readjusting slightly, “honesty for honesty?”, something tells him this particular teen was well versed in dishonesty, “the main reason I was sent here is because of some things the first responders and nurses noticed. Namely, that you have a lot of... scarring. Unusual scarring. Does that have anything to do with the state of your floor?”, he’s making a point to try and be gentle here. This officially looked less ‘killer kid’ more ‘battered kid’.

Danny resists muttering ‘ah fuck, Ancients goddamnit’ out loud; talk about suspicious. He knew one day his scars were going to come and bite him in the ass. What is he supposed to say here? Obviously not the truth. Just ‘oh hey random cop dude, I fight ghosts totally not on the down-low but also technically on the down-low because it’s, like, a super-secret. Y’ know, like most superheroes. And ghosts are, like, totally really into maiming me. Also I’m kinda sorta a little bit kinda dead. So there’s that. My parents and girlfriend also shoot me sometimes, but you totally won’t report that to CPS, right?’. Alright, activate secret protection tactic three; sass and annoy ‘till they leave you the Zone alone. Ancients give him strength, “well first, I really do prefer Danny. I’m totally fine, cool as a cucumber or whatever. And welcome to Amity pal, people get hurt here a bloody lot. Couple abductions here and there, the occasional light stabbing; y’ know the usual. I get that you’re from outta town but that near non-existent crime rate means nothing”, shrugging and leaning back on his elbows, “and yeah the ecto’s mine too, so what I’m a little spooky? Not everyone’s full-blooded legged humans you know”.

Jared practically flinches back from the sudden change in behaviour. So that’s a check on him being defensive of his scarring. But there was no mention of his parents anywhere there, not to defend them or even to try and claim it wasn’t their fault. So, it’s probable his parents aren’t at fault here. Obviously something was going on, had to be for him to have more scarring than war vets. ‘Nearly more scars than flesh’ they had said. Though oddly his doctor had said nothing on the matter, even said the kid was fine; and he definitely did not report the state of the kids bedroom, which definitely deserved reporting. Furrowing his eyebrows at the kid, who doesn’t drop the ‘insufferable teen who just wants to be left alone and thinks you can shove it’ act for the previous nervous cautious behaviour. The doctor probably knew whatever was going on, or was very corrupt and seriously didn’t give a damn, “does your doctor know the reason behind the scarring?”, thinking on what Danny said, “and you have ectoplasm?”, that... that was a new one.

Danny huffs and rolls his eyes, his ecto-contamination was at least somewhat public knowledge in Amity. Dude would hear about it sooner or later, “yeah? So what?”, scowling a little at the cop, “don’t be givin’ doc shit, he’s cool. Knows when shit doesn’t need no reporting, shouldn’t be reported or recorded. I’m fine. My ‘situation’ or whatever, is fine. Perfectly peachy. Just stellar. We done here?”. Danny is probably not earning any good karma points here.

Jared blinks, okay, protecting his doctor was definitely not typical abuse victim behaviour. So definitely not the parents’ fault then. He seemed to be blaming Amity itself or the ghost issue instead. Which yes, this town was insanely dangerous and a lot of people -kids included- had scarring; but not to that degree. Maybe he got targeted more because of being related to hunters? Mentally pausing, or maybe he was a hunter and his parents -for some asinine reason- didn’t know? But then again, he said he wasn’t ‘shooting sentient beings for sport’ so maybe there was a conflict in ideals? Maybe he disagreed with his parents so he didn’t want them involved or putting in their two cents? That was fairly common in the force and other departments. But he was also implying that reporting this in any way -not just to his parents- was bad. So maybe something else was going on, or was he referring to having ectoplasm in his body. There were too many variables here, “that depends. Are you in any danger? You need to give me something here kid, Danny. ‘Cause right now your ‘situation’ seems decidedly not fine. Especially since you clearly get hurt a lot yet have an almost impressively sparse medical file”.

Danny huffs some more and rolls his eyes, okay, this wasn’t exactly... working, “I'm fine. I’m just a little ecto and Amity’s just a little dangerous”, sighing, “so no, I’m not in danger. In the past or now”. ‘But I fucking will be if you chase my shit’ being left unsaid.

“And in the future?”.

Danny levels the guy with a serious steely expression and puts just a tiny hint of power into his voice, tail coiling around invisibly, “I will be if you don’t butt out”, maybe warning the dude will get him to fuck off with this?

Jared blinks and nods, not entirely feeling like he’s actually talking to a minor here; which said a lot, “from?”.

Danny scowls, “not my family. Or friends. Or the doc. Or ghosts, for that matter”, Ancients dude, would you just drop it already?

“That doesn’t leave a lot of possibilities”.

Making Danny glare, “not your business”. Jared sighs and shakes his head a little, “it rather is. It’s my call what happens here, doctor turning the cheek or not”.

Danny scowls at him again, growling slightly because he is honestly getting frustrated here, “a little bit ecto, in the eyes of the government, equals a lot bit not deserving of human rights. And thus a very nice easily findable Christmas wrapped subject for some really nasty things I’d rather not experience”.

Jared blinks a few times, that was... not what he was expecting. But that would explain not wanting things reported, never going to hospitals, not wanting people to look into things, the doctor getting him out of the hospital abnormally quick and coming along, etcetera. Thinking of that, didn’t one of the secretary’s mention government agents showing up? Alright, so this kid was being testy for good reasons. Being defensive to literally defend himself... from his own government. Alright, the best thing he can do for the kid was to do nothing. To fudge his notes and report. Leave in the general weirdness but nothing that would encourage further investigating. This situation was officially way beyond his pay grade. Still though, his priority here was the kid's safety and welfare; not whether or not the government? knew he was ‘a little bit ecto’? “Alright then. Legally I should absolutely report this-”. He doesn’t even get to finish as Danny cuts in with an actual snarl, “and doc shoulda absolutely dragged me back to the hospital, your fucking point?”.

“Jesus kid, I’m trying to extend an olive branch here”, Jared shakes his head when all the teen does is huff, “I’m not saying I’m going to. The governments slightly dangerous opinions and interests in ghost stuff ain’t in my salary”.

Danny tilts his head and watches the guy for a beat, he seemed honest enough, “so you’re not going to mention my ecto-contamination, questionably bio-hazardous room, battered body, or being overly self-sufficient?”. Talk about dodging one Hell of fucking bullet. Holy Shit.

Jared blinks, okay this kid knew exactly what was up with his stuff. “I should, but I think I’m going to opt-out of doing that. Seems like that would do more harm than good”, leaning forwards a bit, “but when you say self-sufficient...”.

Danny rolls his eyes but relaxes some and lays back on his bed, he’s keeping his damn tail invisible and whatnot though, “put it this way man, Lewis thinks I’m a better surgeon than his lackies and I make a mean lasagna that doesn’t randomly gain sentience and try to stab people with knives”.

“Alright, I shouldn’t have asked”, his scars were self-treated, that... that is entirely unacceptable. And he’s just not going to ask about the Fenton parents’ apparently questionable cooking skills. Danny just snorts. So Jared speaks back up, “I take it ecto-contamination is the proper term for being ‘a little ecto’? And that it’s different from the general kind that -according to multiple sources- basically everyone in this town has? Even though your parents failed to mention it. I imagine this probably affects health and care”. ‘Contamination’ pretty firmly implied it being a health thing.

Danny sighs, “‘cause I got it from blatantly and aggressively ignoring nearly all forms of lab safety. Which would probably be a mark against them in your little book. But yeah fine, my ecto is little more unique. Common knowledge, though not really your business”.

“Again, it rather is. But I guess that’s understandable. Does it affect your health and care though? I would prefer to attempt to be thorough”. He’s glad he’s not wearing a wire or body-cam.

Danny looks him over and nods a little, yeah dude could probably get fired for not reporting all this crap. Would kinda make him a dick for no real reason to not answer that, “fair enough. It does, but my folks are pretty aware though. And they’re basically the leading ectologists. If they don’t know how to handle me, then no one does”, no one entirely human anyway.

Jared nods, enough information to be an answer, vague enough to tell him practically nothing. Kid’s smart. Grunting, “good enough”, squinting, “wait, would another family even be able to look after you effectively?”.

Danny snorts and actually laughs, “are you kidding? No, of course not”, as much as his parents being his parents resulted in ghostly injuries and being actively hunted and endless amounts of paranoia; it also saved his half-ghostly ass left right and centre. This legless/leg optional situation would be a bajillion times worse if he didn’t have parents that could build legs and get them to work with his spooky ass.

Jared shakes his head disbelievingly, so it didn’t even matter how he was being treated/looked after; he literally couldn’t get suitable treatment anywhere else but here. No wonder the doctor wanted him home, on top of the government trying to do who knows what. The doctor was actually looking out for his patients' best interests. “Well then I guess it’s best you’re home then. On that note, how are you coming along treatment wise? Healing well? And the prosthetics?”.

Danny snorts, “back to normal people questions huh?”, pushing himself up onto his elbows again, “my healings fine. Doctor approved. CyberSteps are getting there. My ecto’s ‘causing issues but also only reason they’ll feasibly work”, looking the cop over and tilting his head, “you're asking me shit, so I’mma ask you shit. You got any dead relatives who were really into white and a real stickler for rules. Maybe was a prison warden or sherif in the nineteen hundreds? Or maybe a mafia member that went to jail? Has a thing for black fedoras?”, he has to ask, ‘cause it would be just his luck to get stuck with a relative of Walker’s. Not to mention a relative of Walker’s that isn’t a dick and doesn’t utterly despise him. Yet at least.

Jared raises both eyebrows a bit disbelievingly, “Cordell Walker was a mafia member that worked up to being a prison warden after serving time there, nineteen hundreds yeah. How did you know that?”. Jared is insanely confused and a bit freaked out. Shaking his head, “that’s... good that the prosthetics might actually work”.

Danny glares at him and mutters, “Ancients seriously? Why me”, tilting his head and laughing, “wait so he actually was a criminal?”, then starts laughing at Jared’s confused nod, “oh my Zone! HAHAHAHA oh man! I am so bugging him about that. Oh he’s not living that down!”, pausing to snort before adding, “literally not living that down”, and flops to lay down on the bed, laughing more. Waving his hand at the confused cop, “don’t worry about it. It’s just- wow haha. It’s just that your great-grandpa, or whatever, locked me in jail a couple times”, continuing at Jared raising his eyebrows almost comically, “he’s the warden of a ghost prison just inside the portal. So, uh, congrats I know your family. He kinda hates me though so. And he’s kinda a dick, no offence”.

Jared blinks, “I... don’t think I have a response for that and I’m pretty sure this almost qualifies as a conflict of interest”. There isn’t any kind of training for ‘subject knows your dead relative and was apparently arrested by them once’. Swallowing, “what did he... arrest you for?”.

Danny blinks and laughs awkwardly, “uh, first time was driving illegally pretty much. Second, possession of illegal... things. And after that there’s been a lot of other things. Something like ten jail breaks slash destruction of prisons. Probably gives me another assaulting an officer and resisting arrest charge every time he sees me. Honestly man? He’d arrest me just for existing”, tilting his head, “I think he actually has arrested me for that”, chuckling, “like I said, he hates me and he’s a dick. Pretty sure he’s got a cattle prod with my name on it, literally. One of my scars is from him attempting to brand me”.

Jared blinks really harshly at that, he had heard Cordell was a sadist but Christ, “Jesus, that is insane in all honesty. I had heard some... less than pleasant horror stories about him but that seems a bit... much. He was the first cop in the family though, and many of us did brag about having mafia roots as kids”, shaking his head, “I certainly still do”. And this teen apparently destroyed prisons, what is up with this kids life?

Danny snorts, “I would too”, ‘cause come on, having roots to the mafia is just plain cool. Shrugging, “I could give you a really wild story to take back and uh, set up a meeting or something? Y’ know, in return for not possibly getting me tortured and killed? Or having to hack your police system stuff?”.

“Are you... bribing an officer?”, Jared is out of his depth with this kid, and he is absolutely positive he has a very mischievous side and very little regard for the legality of things.

Danny snorts, “not even close to the most illegal thing I’ve done. And might please Walker- uh, ghost Walker, some”, shrugging, “technically I’m bribing two officers”, and smirks devilishly.

Jared is pretty sure he shouldn’t be encouraging this, but this was... an opportunity that really was otherwise impossible. Meeting long-dead family that were something of a legend was quite the offer, “you are a rather sneaky teen, aren’t you? I can’t say I’m going to turn that down. But are you really well enough to do something like that?”.

Danny snorts and mutters, “if I’m well enough to get punched in the face, then I think the fuck so”. Jared pretends he didn’t hear that, he’s decided he really just doesn’t want to know. Danny looks to him, “eh, it’ll be fine. Just maybe don’t call him Cordell, dead-naming a ghost is a good way to get stabbed or shot or maimed or a lot of other painful things. He just goes by Walker now”.

Jared nods dutifully, yup he’s officially ‘compromised’ and no longer unbiased with this case. Best he keeps that to himself though, kid’s probably banking on this being a way to ensure he keeps his mouth shut. This kid was bolder than he seems, definitely not as ‘in the background’ or nervous as he acted at first. That was probably just a tactic to avoid people looking into his shit.

Danny smirks, “cool, I’ll coax him into the mortal realm at some point. Gives me an excuse to annoy the heck out of him”.

“You’re more of a trouble maker than I pegged you for. Please avoid breaking the law to do that”.

Danny blinks, “uh, no?”, activating the hover cushion and hovering around his room to adjust somethings, “so, any more questions that are ultimately pointless?”.

Jared quirks an eyebrow, “honestly? No. Since you’re right, there isn’t any point. But I really should ask what kind of punishments you get?”, he’ll get more than just looked at funny if he doesn’t ask the most basic child abuse question out there.

Danny shrugs, “a stern talking to? Maybe them having a meeting with a teacher and scaring them? Another parent/son bonding thing that turns into getting almost eaten by swamp monsters or getting abducted by the mayor and hunted for sport by his personal ghost science experiments? Getting shown more videos about how not doing my chores will blow the house up and kill everyone?”.

Jared glares at the kid who smirks, “do you just want me to have to scrap everything?”, grumbling to himself and jotting down in his little book, “I’ll just write down the first two”, before looking back to the kid, “what are your chores anyway?”.

Danny smirks, no point lying now might as well go all in, “cleaning the lab. Yup, the ecto-contaminated kid that reacts to hunter tech and ecto is the one who cleans the place filled with those things”, why his parents had him clean the lab was beyond him, not that he minded. Was a good excuse to snoop new inventions or drop off a ghost or two in the portal. Speaking of that, what the heck’s he gonna do with Skulker? If he releases the dude he’ll probably chase down the doc. Eh he’ll warn the guy to keep a bone saw on hand or something. Chuckling at the cop, “also vacuum the walls sometimes”.

Jared blinks, “neither... neither of those are normal. You have got to be kidding me. Why?”.

Danny shrugs, “no idea man. Though now I don’t have any chores, well except the chore of healing”, and floats over to the door, gesturing to it, “so we done? Cool to leave the crime scene?”.

Jared stands and lifts his phone, “I actually need to take some photos of your room, so maybe try to make a section not completely nightmarish?”.

What then proceeds is the two moving around a few things and Danny dumping a pile of cloths over a particularly unpleasant looking square of carpet, so Jared can get his photo. He also takes photos of the star-covered ceiling, hand-built rocket models, and his computer video-game set-up. Noting the space flight simulators, “you a fan of space? I have a cousin who’s an astronaut you know”. Danny zips right over into his face, causing him to fall on his ass, Danny stays in his face and follows him though, “what! Oh my Zone! What missions have they been on?!? Wait, have they been on any?!? Did they get to go to any planets?!? Or a satellite?!? What was the recovery like?!? Oh! Oh! What’s wearing an actual spacesuit like?!?...”.

Alright, Jared thinks, this kid was a little freaky and was officially seriously freaking him out. Interrupting Danny’s word vomit, “uh... I don’t know? I think ‘like’ might have been an understatement, you’re a bit... obsessive”.

Danny huffs and glares at the guy, how, no seriously how could he not know? Not ask? “You disappoint me, and shut it. Side-effect of the ecto”, practically hissing, “and I’m interested, not obsessive”. He knows a little echoey ghostliness came out there ‘cause space is not his Obsession.

Jared nods slowly and blinks at the wide-eyed teen that he’s pretty sure hasn’t blinked in a while, “uh sure thing. Could I... maybe get off the floor?”, which now that he’s not focused on the kid going a bit crazy, he’s noticed said floor is a bit more than foul-smelling.

Danny stares a little more and realises he’s effectively pinning the guy without actually touching him, backing off but grumbling, “deserved it, family goes to space maybe and you don’t know shit about it? Ridiculous. At least Lewis would ask”, Lewis was a curious dude, Vee just didn’t know shit.

Jared gets up slowly and makes a point to get out of the kids bedroom, the kid shooting him glares like he’s committed a crime the entire time.

Jasmine sticks her head out of her bedroom too, “everything alright and good now?”, looking from the slightly freaked cop to her slightly wide-eye brother who’s grumbling incoherently, “Danny stop frightening the guests”. Danny grumbles incoherently a bit more but in ghost just to be creepy because let it be known, he was a dumbass.

Jared studiously ignores the... sounds? the kid is making and lifts up the notebook, “we’re good here. My partner’s waiting so I should get going”. Jared heads down the steps, spotting the sister putting her hands on her hips and looking unimpressed at Danny, “what is wrong with you Danny? Are you trying to make him suspicious?”.

“His cousin is an astronaut and he knows nothing, fucking nothing, about that?...”, and looks to start wide-eyed ranting, which Jasmine looks fond? over. This family was... weird.

Nodding his head at the parents, who smile and look relieved. Telling him they were rather... aware, things weren’t really acceptable here. And here he was not reporting that because of a bribe of all things, and honestly? after that performance, he’d rather not see what that kid’s like mad. That’s not mentioning how awkward working with the Fenton’s would be if he did report this. Again, they were basically cops here; their own ecto-department, alongside the Red Huntress.

Maddie jumps up to get the door while Danny and Jazz come down the stairs to see him off, only for Danny’s ghost sense to go off and a (very manly) scream sounding from outside. Everyone rushing to the door to see Ember literally standing on the cop car hood, her stomping on the windshield with one boot and telling the ‘piggy to lick her boots’ and moving to strum her guitar.

Danny’s folks of course run out guns blazing, while he silently slips into the background to transform; and Jared rushes over to his partner, grumbling about Chester being more of a greenhorn than him. Chester, meanwhile, is wide-eyed, back stiff, and clutching his chair seat for dear life.

Danny Phantom flies out -with his ghostly legs being, in fact, legs- to the sight of the cops trying to peel out of here while shooting their standard issue ecto-pistols at the ghost. His parents chasing said ghost, who’s of course mocking them and sticking out her tongue.

Ember shouting, “babypop!”, as soon as she sees Danny and floating straight at him. So he does the smart thing and leads her on a little goose chase. Which, in typical fashion, results in him getting a guitar powered fist-shaped sound wave punch straight into the side of a building.

She shouts at him, “my babypops been missing a while Phantom, know anything ‘bout that?!”. Danny snickers, “you know, you calling us both babypop raises some serious questions”.

“Oh can it”.

Making Danny laugh and shakes his thermos a little, “already canned the tin can. Care to join? Not sure how much makeout room there is though”. Which promptly gets him slammed into the road, “keep this up and I’ll put a cement lock on the thermos!”.

She rolls her eyes and readies her guitar again, “that won’t work, we can phase through cement, dipstick”.

Danny pauses and holds up a finger, “actually, my folks are making a mass-producible ecto-cement”, shrugging, “which I’m sabotaging because oof, imagine slamming into a ghost proof wall mid-battle?”.

Ember chuckles, “yeah, would really ruin the vibes. Speaking of vibes, try these sound waves out”, and turns the nob to something Danny’s pretty sure is new. Great. Watching, and failing to dodge, a pink line of sound slice through the air... and his shoulder.

Danny watches the arm go flying into someone’s garden, “wow, some really cutting edge beats you’ve got there”, and promptly dodges another pink line.

The fight again pausing when the dude who owns the garden throws Danny’s arm back at him, which he just lets it bounce off the side of his head, “way to get dismembered asshole!”.

Danny holds up a finger to Ember, “one second”, looking to the guy as Ember crosses her arms. Danny snatching his arm out of the air and tucking it under his armpit, “okay first off, dismemberment requires multiple limb removal; I only lost one. Two, I’ll admit my arm wouldn’t make very good fertiliser, but was that really necessary? And three-”, smirking, “-thanks for the hand. I’ll make sure to put my act together. Got to stay handsome after all”. Turning to Ember and speaking quiet enough the scowling guy won’t hear; though Ember shooting him a few miles away into a tree helps, “got a girl to impress, ya know. I like to think she prefers the whole over bits and bites”.

That gets Ember to pause and actually smile, if this were a video game a little ‘!’ would have likely appeared over her head, “oh! You’re dating again? The goth? I’d ask if it was the techy but you said girl”.

Danny throws his hand out to the side, “why do you all always think I’m dating them?!?”.

Ember snorts, rolls her eyes, and puts a hand on her hip, “your two humans are attached at the hip to you. How are you not dating them?”.  

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, “we’re close so what? I’m a protective asshole who likes to keep what’s mine close. Fuck off. I’m dating Red for your information”.

Ember giggles and shakes her head, “silly boy, and nice to see your death wish is still intact”, readying her guitar to restart their battle, “she know you’re one of us yet?”.

Danny chuckles as he stretches out his torso to avoid another fist blast, “naw, that info’s still ghosting her”, earning both another head shake and a pink slicing blast from the ghost.

Meanwhile, Lewis is just now taking his last shift break. Flipping through the Amity news because again, being prepared is nice and Danny’s a verifiable walking time bomb for physical injuries. And surprise surprise Phantom him is currently practically eating a tree with his face fighting some rocker chic. Eddie would probably ask her for a night of fun or something; though she might might be a minor. Maybe? It’s hard to tell. Well whatever, she’s currently smacking Danny over the head with her guitar. Squinting at the screen before sighing, the kid’s arm is definitely not attached to him. So check his arm brace, check his stitch work, make sure his bones are aligned right. Watching him get hit over the head again, maybe he should ask if Danny even can get concussions; he hopes not.

Quirking an eyebrow at his phone ringing, pausing the video, “hello?”.

“Dr. Dan Lewis? This is Jared Walker from the Amity police department”.

Lewis sighs, why does he feel like Danny’s at fault for this, “yes?”. Just the same as Eddie is literally always at fault whenever the San Francisco police call.

“I just finished up with a welfare check on Daniel Fenton, and just wanted to confirm that he’s indeed medically alright and that someone other than the Fenton parents’ are keeping an eye on the kid”.

Lewis grimaces, oh no way that went well, “he’s better than anyone else would be, so he’s quite fine; no need to worry. After this shift I’ll be taking something of a leave to stay at the Fenton household, I do intend to keep a rather close eye on him. That is my job after all. Do you need anything from me for your report?”. Danny must have done something to keep this guy from just outright reporting that the house was ridiculously unsafe.

“No, that’s alright. I think I’d rather not know whatever it is you do know”, alright so Danny definitely did something, something a ‘normal’ person wouldn’t really approve of, “so long as there’s someone more... responsible, watching him I’m not going to concern myself. Try to get him to clean his room, I doubt this’ll be the last time someone raises the alarm about that kid. I doubt ‘I know your dead grandparent’ is something he can pull again. And most less seasoned cops would not have reacted well to nearly being assaulted”.

Lewis sighs, Danny seriously can not keep his nose out of trouble. Though assaulting a cop is something he’d expect from Eddie not Danny. Though in Eddie’s case, the cop wouldn’t be alive to talk about it. “I’ve told him as much. I do hope my patient wasn’t too much of a hassle, he can definitely be a bit odd. Though that’s hardly unusual for the family”.

“Oh I’m aware. That kid is a bit more.... startling though. I don’t envy you. Thanks for taking my call, I imagine you’re a busy man”.

Lewis chuckles, “he hasn’t tried to kill or eat me yet, so he’s a fairly enjoyable patient. Very interesting. Have a good day”.

“Yeah...”, Lewis is pretty sure he hears the guy mutter, “what is up with people today? Everyone’s a goddamn nutcase”, before hanging up. Lewis barely gets the time to chuckle down at his phone before it pings from that private server Phantom chat.

DPain: so

DPain: that spooky from fore might

DPain: might

DPain: be lowkey coming for you for my scrappy bits

DPain: also

DPain: mighto scared a cop

NightShade: made pig squeal

Tiethief: so he told me

Tiethief: should I just give the spooky what he wants?

DPain: put it in a present, throw it at his face screaming bomb!

PDAxpda: not like you need it

NightShade: n tinman might actually stab you or something if you don’t

Tiethief: that is a rather convincing argument

Lewis tosses his phone into the tray, hopefully this ghost doesn’t show up mid-surgery.

And he showed mid-surgery. Very mid-surgery. As in, hands in someone’s intestines kind of mid-surgery with a number eleven scalpel. All his underlings just hug the walls, or slowly move out of the room, effectively leaving him holding a guy together by himself at the table. Cowards. Lewis swallows and is impressed with himself at sounding calm and slightly bored, “do you mind? I am rather busy. The secretary could give you a number if you need something”.

“Where’re the whelps skinnings?”.

Lewis sighs, lifts up the hand holding the scalpel and points it at the ghost, “rude. As I said, I have my hands full. And I imagine the ‘whelp’ wouldn’t appreciate my patient keeling over from your pestering”. Here’s hoping the ghosts are sorta friendly with Danny at least slightly and really are against using someone's Obsession for a cheap shot.

Skulker blinks and internally winces slightly, well aware of the whelps protective Obsession, “fair play to you. I will wait. Here”, and nods curtly.

Lewis raises a very disbelieving judgmental eyebrow, “no you’re not. I somehow doubt you are even close to sterile. And I would rather not have to explain to his wife how he mysteriously got ecto-contamination during surgery”. Lewis is honestly surprised the ghost tilts his head, shrugs, and just... leaves. Ghosts were very interesting. Though he’s not about to hang up his doctor coat for the ghost hunter spandex.

Brittney walks up next to him, shaking slightly and readjusting her glasses, “Dan?”.

Lewis simply gets back to work, gesturing the others over, “yes?”. Thankfully they listen and also thankfully no one passed out on him this time.

Brittney swallows, “what the fuck”. Which just makes Lewis chuckle.

Two hours later Lewis snaps off his gloves into the trash and turns sideways to nearly crash right into the ghost. Sighing, ghosts were incredibly determined bastards. Looking at the ghosts grinning face, “this better not become routine or I’ll have to start removing your organs or something along those lines. You’re already dead, so it wouldn’t count as malpractice”.

“If you make a habit of taking parts of the whelps pelt, then gladly”.

Lewis tilts his head, that was kind of tempting; but he’s pretty sure he’ll pass. “He doesn’t need it so I don’t see why I would”, now to figure out how to deal with this, he didn’t exactly have Danny’s scraps on hand; though he had been effectively given the go-ahead. Eh he’ll just walk out to his car, slowly, and drive home, slowly. Peoples reactions could be interesting and annoying the ghost might discourage him from doing this again. He could do without ghosts showing up in his ER. Walking off and gesturing for him to follow, “follow”.

Skulker raises a metal eyebrow, “very few would dare turn their backs on the mighty Skulker”. Impressed or insulted? The doctor had turned his back on the best hunter in all the Zone at their previous encounter. And the doctor had already threatened him with a weapon. So Skulker’s leaning towards impressed.

Lewis chuckles, “if you hurt me I have one friend who’ll beat you up and another who would eat you; or at least very aggressively try to”, tilting his head as he walks, “and a fiancée who would sue you out of your lair and everything you own”. Glancing at Skulker, who of all things looks impressed.

Skulker nods curtly, “you and the whelp run in fine circles”, explains this new apparent human pet. The little whelply Prince wasn’t one for acquiring new pets.

Lewis chuckles as they pass a few nurses who looking to be trying to point out the hulking metal ghost following him like he somehow hadn’t noticed, speaking towards them, “I’m aware. Just ignore him”, then addressing said ghost while the nurses undoubtedly add this to the gossip mill, “you seem impressed”.

Skulker laughs, “a good prize should be impressive! The boys accomplishments are many, he is strong, and he is rare”, and grins more than a little viciously.

Lewis pauses as they get halfway across the parking lot, turning to Skulker, “so you respect him then. You care”, shrugging, “in a way”.

Skulker huffs and very obviously pretends to not give a damn, “a hunter respects the hunt and fellow hunters, that is all. And it wouldn’t due for him to fail to someone pathetic and unworthy”.

Lewis can’t help but laugh, “a friend of mine is like him, none of their enemies respect them. They just don’t want them to murder them. Mind you, most of their enemies die the first time they meet”. Lewis pulls out his phone as Skulker grunts, “skilled hunter”, which Lewis nods at as he walks.

Tiethief: metal spooky with lots of guns already here and apparently respects you

Tiethief: but is also trying to pretend he doesn’t

Tiethief: he is not a good actor

DPain: eh

DPain: he’s helped me the odd time

PDAxpda: well that was fast

PDAxpda: guy knows what he wants

DPain: he isn’t trying to hurt you is he

Tiethief: no

Tiethief: no need to be overprotective

Tiethief: I’m just taking him to get scraps slowly

Tiethief: very slowly

DPain: *snort* hahahaha food

DPain: *good

NightShade: make him swear not to tell vampireass monochrome’s leggy situation in return

DPain: oh shit

DPain: smart

DPain: why didn’t I think of that

PDAxpda: ‘cause you’re a dumbass

NightShade: our dumbass

DPain: hsiabdajbfje

DPain: rocker just asked if I was dating you assholes and you go and say shit like that

Lewis shakes his head as he hops into his car, sending off a final, Tiethief: you’re young, live a little, before driving off; being followed by a freaking ghost. He knows the punning he probably just encouraged but that only makes him smirk at the other two teens expense. They messed up his patient files and made Eddie practically blow up his phone while getting insanely dangerously drunk and probably killing someone to blow off steam (neither of which was all that uncommon but still; doesn’t mean he wanted that bad habit encouraged), paybacks a bitch; and apparently punny.

By the time he gets to his place he’s pretty sure the ghost is suitably annoyed. Heading in, he’s glad Anne’s still at work, better to not drag her into this. Not that she would likely mind. Would handle it with the controlled grace and power she always did. Glancing at the ghost as he moves to one of the closets, “now this stays between us, no need for Vlad to know. As far as that old friend of mine knows Danny never lost his legs. We are messing with him some”.

Skulker huffs, “I only tell him anything because he pays me”, taking a bag from the doctor guy and glancing inside. Grinning extremely maliciously, “and this outweighs any money or upgrades”.

Lewis nods and puts his hands on his hips, “another form of payment for this little gift could certainly be leaving Danny alone enough to study. He'd make a nice surgical assistant”, smirking, “he’s very good with a knife and stitch work”.

Skulker tilts his head and chuckles, “pestering the whelp is half the point. The potential of him spending his human time cutting people up and taking others scraps is tempting though”. Making the Prince even more of a little hunter was very tempting. He cared not one bit for that space whatever human job he was chasing before. So the boys studying meant nothing.

“Then bite the Eden’s apple. I already offered the kid a job”, shrugging, “granted he makes it through medical school”, glaring at the ghost purely to make a point. Feeling very smug at Skulker seeming annoyed but smiling slightly; not that it’s easy to tell with the metal face.

Lewis chuckles, “also, I appreciate you making him regrow his legs. Now I don’t have to knock him out”.

That gets Skulker to give him an almost concerned seeming look, “you have a ghost knockout device?”, which Lewis just grins at as the ghost promptly leaves. Well, he just successfully intimidated a ghost. Like symbiotes and MRI machines. Looking out the window to the dark sky, it’s about time he checks in on his patient properly; and probably patches him up yet again. That kid needed to just have a doctor shadowing him at all times.

Danny flops his head into Valerie’s lap, tail swishing lazily in the air at random. Sam and Tucker are lobbing chunks of mystery substances at each other. Valerie pats his head, “I still can’t believe you bribed a cop and got away with it”.

Danny chuckles meanly before going slightly wide-eyed, “oh yeah! And get this, Walker’s first name was apparently Cordell. Cop’s his grandson or something”.

Tucker gets hit in the head by something purple and fuzzy, “seriously? Your luck man”. Making everyone laugh just as Maddie sticks her head in, “the next CyberStep prototype is ready, sweetie”, looking around the room, “oh! You kids are still here? You really should head home and let Danny rest”, almost glaring at Valerie, “you especially missy. Danny being... endowed... or not”;

Danny wheezes in laughter while everyone else chokes. Valerie promptly hits him, so he manoeuvres his tail to poke her in the head; she, of course, swats It away. Sam however, surprises him by grabbing It and yanking him to the floor as she goes to stand, Tucker following as they move to leave.

Sam eyeballing Valerie, “well?”. Who sighs and leans down to give Danny another pat and a kiss before getting up to leave herself.

Danny sticks his arms up at her, “lift me, am baby”. Valerie snorts and leans down lifting him up, “yes, big scary baby”. Danny laughs with a high pitched voice very intentionally, “spooky scary skeleton baby”. Valerie groans and drops him on the bed, “you’re awful, you damn fool”, shoving his head into the blankets.

Danny chuckles, “you’re the worst, you stupid fool-lover”. She just snorts while Danny stays there, with his face smushed into the bed as they actually do leave.

His mom coming over after she’s sure his friends have gone. Her sitting on the bed and patting it, giving his shoulder a little rub, “you are okay with testing the CyberSteps right? And the way the house is? It’s setup? You can get to everything fine?”, continuing as he turns his head to her, “I know we haven’t really been treating this like you actually are... disabled. We’ve been treating this like you’ll pretty much go back to normal”, sighing and looking to the ceiling, “I know with the CyberSteps you’ll be able to walk again, have legs again. But it’s... it’s not the same. And I don’t- I don’t know if you want us to teat you like you’re no different. Not give you extra help or do things for you”, looking back to him and ruffling his hair a little, she can tell he’s thinking, “I know you want the general public to treat you the same and not even know anything’s happened. But us? I guess what I’m asking sweetie, is if you like the way we treat you”, trying to lighten the mood a little, make this seem less serious, “and no, by help you out I don’t mean babying you. I know you don’t like that”.

Danny opens and closes his mouth a few times. His mom was obviously worried and was definitely always going to be bothered by his leglessness, but he wasn’t actually legless. But revealing that was more than a little unpleasant sounding. Regardless what his friends say, regrowing human(ish) flesh and bone was not the same as developing a ghostly tail. It wasn’t even in the same realm of same. Literally. Humans do not heal like he does. Not even close. And him revealing he doesn’t heal like a fucking human is absolutely going to make them question if he even is human anymore. If he’s been too changed by his Core and contamination to qualify as human. And his parents deciding the answer was ‘no. Not human’ was nightmare fuel that he simply did not want to face. That, his hybrid status, was getting pried from his cold dead hands, when it came to his folks. And besides, even if he did tell her, then she’d be worried about his weird-ass healing and humanness. Which she would probably be more bothered by than him technically being ‘disabled’. So that’s solved. Kinda. Not really. Something tells him that having legs -real ones- while human was going to be an uncommon thing; too risky to have them often. He has a distinct feeling that is making ClockWork smirk meanly at him.

(ClockWork was, in fact, watching the near future with a smirk; and drumming their fingers over their staff almost in eager anticipation)

Now the other dilemma Danny’s having is this whole ‘do you want us to treat you the same/help you/modify things for you’ question. He means, the answers were obvious to him: yes/no/no. But his mom was obviously having at least a little bit of a hard time with treating him like nothings changed. Obviously she wanted to help him. And that made sense. She was his mom, any mom would want to help their disabled kid. That meant he needed to give her a reason, make her feel good and better about him not wanting that. She needed to feel like she was helping him by not helping him. Huh, talk about an oxymoron. And funnier, doing that would make him feel helpful and his Obsession at least a little content. But the question was, how to go about doing that? Tilting his head -and knowing damn well his mom is just letting him sort through his head- he could just be honest? in a different way. He disliked being babied, them helping him when he didn’t goddamn need it, because of his ghostly pride. Because of that ghostly part of his mind. His ghostly brain. Which his mom had asked about. Had asked how his mind was different, was more ghostly. He could just... tell her? That’s pretty well what she wanted right? and it would keep her from being all weird about this. Maybe anyway. Hopefully. But also how to explain that? He wasn’t kidding that he really seriously didn’t know just how different his mind was. Where did his human pride end and his ghost pride begin? He had never liked being babied, but he definitely hated it much more since the accident. But he’s pretty sure full human Danny wouldn’t mind his folks doing things for him or putting stuff in easier reach. Heck! full human Danny would probably want nothing to do with robo-legs; especially robo-legs made by his explosion prone parents. Full human Danny would probably be fine being pushed around in a wheelchair. Halfa Danny definitely wasn’t.

Swallowing, alright brain, time to be on the ghostly side. Huh, for once he was actively wanting to be ghostly around his family, “okay uh, I think that -me being bothered with being babied so much- is a ghost brain thing. And um, you guys trying to help me unnecessarily -as in I could honestly do it myself just fine- is babying to me. Wounds my pride I guess”, shrugging. It didn’t help that he was a powerful ghost. He was a proud bastard alright? Ghostly proud for sure. Nowhere near as bad as Vlad though. That guy was, like, sixty percent pride or something.

Maddie nods, making a point to not look too curious, she can tell a bit that Danny’s more certain about this than he’s letting on. So he was clearly not comfortable yet talking about how his... Core and ectoplasm affected his mind. Meaning this was probably him testing the waters a bit, him taking a bit of a leap of faith. She could understand that, it made sense, him hide anything about himself he thought was ghostly was what he was used to. He had ghost hunters for parents after all. So she needed to not be bothered by this, just like the tail and Core. But also just like with those, she was bothered, she just had to work on that and not let it show; because upsetting him, making him feel like he still had to hide parts of himself, would bother her much more. Though to get any confirmation that his mind has changed, who he is, his personality; was harder to swallow than his physical body being a bit different. And here, he probably had a point. She thought he had been more self-sufficient, more caring about his looks, and more capable as a teen. She had chalked that up to growing up, but maybe that was his ghostly influence showing. Tilting her own head, “well ghosts are prideful things. So I guess you being more proud, in a ghostly way, would make sense. Do you... have different kinds of pride? Like, human pride and ghostly pride?”. Not ‘ghost pride’ because he’s not a ghost; no matter how close to one he’s become.

Danny rolls onto his back and stares at his ceiling a little, “I think my ghost pride trumped my human one. I’m not sure I have human pride?”, tilting his head, “or maybe my ghost stuff just abducted my human pride and modified it?”. Did he actually know the answer here? No. And it’s not like he’s gonna ask Spectra how his mind worked. How human it was. That would be asking for punishment. Would really confuse her though. Maybe. She was one ghost he didn’t really understand.

Maddie nods and ruffles his hair, “your ecto-circulatory system and Core? That would make sense”, looking up at the ceiling too, “ghosts are impressions of the living, so your ghostly set up cannibalising your human pride and leaving you with the ecto-impression of it seems plausible. Seems logical pride would be something your ectoplasm would latch on to or overpower”, she bites back adding that ghosts were obviously proud since they seemed to think they were better or above the living when they were only the leftovers of the living. Effectively scraps. But that thought makes her squint a little, there wasn’t anything for Danny’s Core to be a ‘scrap’ of... The tail was obvious, but the Core? They had thought those were likely built of leftover emotional imprints or maybe the heart? That clearly couldn’t be right since Danny still had a heart -Dan had pretty well confirmed his heart being there- and, even with his aloofness, she’s still positive he was definitely all there emotionally. So the Core was an addition, not a leftover. Meaning that maybe... they were at least partly wrong. On their basic understanding/finding, of all things. Maybe the majority of a ghost was leftovers, but some were new?

Danny interrupts her thoughts, “‘ecto-circulatory system’? Is that just, like, what you’re calling my, uh, ectoplasm? And I think it’s more likely that ghost pride, or whatever, is stronger and more focused on, or something, and so the human pride is kinda redundant? Would be wasteful to have two, I think”, chuckling, “I guess ‘cannibalising’ is one way to put it. More like taking the old and upgrading it”, then very stupidly adding, “less ‘impression’, more ‘freed from unneeded baggage”, and instantly cringing because calling living, breathing, eating, organs, etcetera, ‘baggage' was probably simultaneously worrying and offensive. Maybe she wouldn’t take it that way? Even if it was... kinda true. Why have organs and bones when you can just be energy? Why be reliant on oxygen and food when you could just... not? But at the same time, why need to absorb ectoplasm, just one thing, instead of diversifying your needs? No ectoplasm equals some pretty fucked and probably fading ghosts. No cheese or beef just equals ‘eat something else you moron’. Still though...

Maddie gives her son a slightly concerned look, did he have that ‘ghosts are better than the living’ mindset? That could.... could explain his tolerance and even seeming fondness of ghosts. But he also clearly didn’t ascribe to humans being lesser; than ghosts or him. Like how some people just found cats better than dogs, better pets than dogs; but didn’t view dogs as some lesser beings. Was this part of his ghostly influences or just the way he would view things regardless? She should ask instead of assuming, assuming has gotten her in a bad way a lot it seems. And she told herself she’d do less of that. But first, his question. His curiosities were more important than hers, especially if he might be genuinely worried about anything, “your ecto-circulatory system is just what your dad rather dubbed your Core and ectoplasm. How it works and flows together. Like blood and a heart”, shifting a bit and biting her lip, “I guess having two kinds of pride would be unnecessary. But... do you? think ghosts are better than humans? Above?”, looking at his face and making a point to come off as gentle, “swapping ‘impression’ for ‘losing baggage’ sounds less like they are our leftovers and more like we’re garbage holding back our ghosts”. When it came to power she could understand, humans simply couldn’t match ghosts when it came to raw power. But they lost so much. Or that’s what research said, what she had thought for so long. But even if they were wrong about ghosts being emotionless and unable to feel pain. And, according to Danny, about being able to reproduce. Ghosts still lost organs. A truly physical existence. They were still bound to Obsession, even if Dan’s idea of them loving their Obsessions had merit. They still existed almost endlessly. They still were trapped in a form, ‘mind’, habit, personality, that could barely change at all. That was horrible. A loss. Not freedom or shedding off baggage. And certainly not better. Maybe it was good and better for the ones that never knew life.

Danny pushes himself to sit up and chuckles awkwardly, he sure loves making his life harder huh? “uh, I wouldn’t say ‘garbage’”, he pointedly ignores her slightly relieved sigh, “better comparison would be prototype to finished product. Prototypes are smaller, weaker, less effective. But more manipulatable, easier to deal with, informative. Prototypes you can practically upgrade or modify like crazy. Finished things go obsolete”, tilting his head and looking a little far off, “‘when things reach their ultimately conclusion, their final stage, they can go no more. But the universe is a thing of endless mores. There will always be a higher goal. A harder day. A stronger fight. A more expensive cost. To stagnate is to someday die out. To cease to exist when the universe requires beyond the final evolutions limits. But life is a thing of endless evolution. Of constant change. Always taking more and more and more. Never to rest’”, nodding his head with a smile, “‘and that, young one, is why I love life’”, chuckling and looking back to his slightly startled looking mom, “I might have made a stupidly wise friend”, shrugging, “sure they also then went on about why they love death. But you get the point I think”.

Maddie blinks, alright so maybe him being more grown-up had something to do with making -what sounds to be- a very smart friend. Likely an adult. Choosing to make light of this because that was a bit heavy and her boy clearly thought highly of this friend; he remembered them word for word!, “and here I thought I’ve met all your friends”, patting his head and getting lightly scowled at in return, “though I would like to know what they think of ghosts”, sighing and looking back to the ceiling, “as for what you said, most people consider prototypes inferior. So that doesn’t really change my question”.

Danny nods a little, fair enough, “well... uh, I think ghosts are better yeah. Kinda. In ways”, shrugging, “the strength. The durability. The powers. The sorta immortality and Obsessions though, heh”, he may love helping and protecting people, and enjoy satisfying that pesky Obsession of his; but it was still annoying pushy bastard. Shaking his head, “and my friend? They’re kinda a loner”, was a bit weird calling ClockWork simply ‘friend’ but he so doesn’t want to get into that. Chuckling, “‘death -in the way it is known for ghosts- is a finality in a way that finality is not. An end unending. Eternity, or at the very least the possibility of it, on a shiny silver plater. A steady star in space. Enhancing and overwhelming everything around it. Never bending for anything. It’s beauty and strength. Chaos and destruction. Pure and raw; leaving room for nothing else. And the universe is nothing without that’”, Danny nods and adds, “pretty sure they also said ‘think of it like this: without death, life is worthless. Death is the core and essence of life. Without it life is just a bled dry husk. And that’s something I care nothing for’ on the same topic”.

Maddie can’t help blinking again, this whoever seemed like they genuinely didn’t prefer one over the other. Reminded her a little of Dan actually. She’s not sure she agrees with the idea that the living are worthless without ghosts. Or maybe Jack’s wild on-the-spot idea of needed ghosts had some serious merit. As in, world would end without them, kind of merit. Then squinting, thinking on the weird emphasis Danny put on ‘Obsessions’; it couldn’t- could he possibly? “Sweetie-”. Only to get cut off by Jack barging in, holding up the CyberSteps.

“I got tired of waiting! So I figured I’d just bring them up! Plus! It might be more convenient to test here! Since if there’s some kind of reaction then Danny can just hop right into bed!”. Maddie tilts her head and nods slightly; he had a point.

Danny looks around his room and rubs his neck, thinking of all the shit he hid fucking everywhere in here, “uh, I’d rather not have anything that, y’ know, might explode or anything, in my room while doing things that would make it maybe explode or something”. His dad actually blushes at that and deflates a little. So Danny adds on, “still cool with testing though dad. Just not here”; earning a wide smile in return.

Maddie nods and sighs slightly, standing up with a smile; storing away her question and worry for later, “might as well do that now then”, smiling almost meanly at Jack, “since someone’s over eager”. Jack just chuckles and grins.

Danny flicks around his tail, feeling how easy it would be to simply have legs yet how not draining the tail still was. Super odd but fuck it, odd is him or whatever. Floating up off his bed and flying his face right up to the legs, more than a little curious what they've changed to account for his Core in a way that actually works in any way. Looking inside the legs, “so, think you’ve fixed the signals miscommunication issue?”, deciding not to add ‘without messing anything else up’.

Jack beams and nods, father and son chatting a little as they head out and down the stairs. Maddie watching from behind and smiling to herself, glad he didn’t seem to be closing himself off or act uncomfortable after their ghost-related talk; like he often did. Probably had something to do with her effectively reintegrating that they were willing and okay to hear him out on his opinions and ghost tolerance. Or maybe from them knowing about his ghostly influence and accepting that as simply part of him. Refocusing and watching his tail flick and swish around; which only makes her smile grow a little. He truly had gotten pretty good with it; not a wobble or falter in sight. He might even be able to give some ghost a run for their money, once he was healed up of course, which Jack would absolutely cheer and brag over.

Danny turns his head towards his mom just as they get into the kitchen -the currently designated blast zone, since doing it in the lab around sensitive anti-ghost stuff really was stupid- tilting his head at her giggling to herself, “what?”, and blushing when she glances to his tail; him coiling It around a little, making her smile crinkle her eyes a little. Guess his folks were finally -thank the Ancients- genuinely getting use to the tail. Turning back to his dad, who sets down the legs and gestures at them a bit ridiculously. Making Danny laugh and shake his head with a smile, “yeah yeah, alright”.

Grabbing the waist and slipping his tail in, instantly wondering what would happen if he went all leggy while wearing the legs. Legs on top of legs. Legs inside of legs. Fucking legception. That’s for another day though, even if he grins like an idiot over the thought. Moving for the thumbprint scanner and pausing, huh, they moved the timer. Nice, way less awkward. Shrugging and attaching the neuroreceptors, “where'd the timer go? Not that I’m complaining”. Considering that thing controlled the drain, he’d rather be able to see it without pulling some inhuman body horror shit.

Maddie walks up and taps on the neuroreceptors between his shoulder blades, “it’s on your back, we think shortening the distance between your brain and Core, and the timer conductor might just do the trick. With a couple other changes of course”, shrugging a little, “even if that increases the distance between it and your tail -the most accessible of your ectoplasm- as well as the main body of the CyberSteps”.

Jack adds in with a laugh, “and just like before! It’s completely protected from bumps and it can be locked so no one can go fiddling with it on you!”, and slaps Dannys back over the strip, then blushing and realising that was probably dumb to do.

Danny tries (and fails) to look over his shoulder at it while his dad turns it to actually start up, “uh, won’t it be kinda hard for me to adjust it there”.

Both parents blink like this hadn’t occurred to them. “Oh”. While Danny glances to his chest and tries to focus on what he’s feeling. Again, the draining is near nothing, which is good though foreboding.

Maddie shakes her head, “well we could add a small chest bar so it could be on your chest”, nodding and thinking to herself a little, “would fall right over his Core then”.

Danny raises an eyebrow before grumbling, “who am I? Tony Stark?”, snorting to himself, “well I am a literal metal ass. Rockin’ robotics”. Then deciding why not try walking, didn’t seem like anything was going horribly awfully wrong.

Lewis had walked in just during Danny’s little dig toward Ironman and had promptly muttered to himself, “considering the super-suit leading a merry band of heroes. Yes. Yes you are”, which he’s pretty sure Danny missed. As he watches the kid go to lift his ‘leg’ -what happened to him regrowing his legs???- only for said leg to practically high kick the air aggressively, sweep Danny clean off his other foot, and flip him onto his back; hard. Eliciting a little ‘oof’ from Danny and making Lewis sigh. What is it with walking in on the hero/vigilante type getting hurt? Especially Danny. Was like the boy felt a moral and physical obligation to get injured at the sight of a doctor. Which actually... does seem like something Danny would get a kick out of.

Maddie and Jack quickly move to help him sit up. Lewis puts his last bag on the floor and walks over. Danny rubs his head and mumbles in ghost, “o̸҉w̧͘͏,̕͡ ͞I’͝v̕ę ̴͝w͘h̵̨a͝c̴͠k̕ed̴͠ m̷̕y ̢͠͡hea̵d ͏͠͠a͝ ̢͢͝sh̷͘i̛t ̵̕t͘o͟n͡ ̨a͝n͞d̸͝ ͞s̶͏͢om͡e͜͡ho͠w ͠t҉̵h͜a̡͜t̡ was͘ ͜͞͝w͜ay҉ ̛mo̕͠r̴͠e͏̸ ͏̡p̡̨ai̴͘nf͟ưl̡͝͡”, and shakes his head. Making his folks blink in surprise and squint at him slightly, many times they’ve thought they heard him muttering in a strange language; never heard it so clearly before though.

Jack chuckles and gives a lopsided awkward smile, “I guess you knowing ghost speak makes sense, son”. Catching Danny off guard, “e͘͜͞h̴̵҉¿”. Realising his fuck up, he goes to stand up only for the legs to overreact again and basically toss him -back first, because of course it does- into the table.

Lewis stands up and shakes his head, hands on his hips, “well I’m glad you’re up and walking, but maybe you should turn that down a little. Before you put a foot through the ceiling or hurt yourself further”. Danny just stands there rubbing his neck awkwardly before glancing cautiously at the legs. Though really? Lewis is damn impressed these things are actually working at all. And that Danny’s braces don’t look destroyed, but that’s another matter.

Jack chuckles, checks over the timer/conductor, and scratches his head, “they’re still on the lowest setting actually”. Maddie sighs, shakes her head, and repositions the table back where it belongs.

Her sitting down and eyeballing the CyberSteps, “I’m really not sure what else we can try. Any lower and it’s not gonna pick up and convert the signals successfully”.

Jack snatches up the little tray of peanut fudge brittle Maddie made earlier and puts it on the table. One’s missing, so he’s guessing Jazz took one before she turned in for the night. Least Dan joins them at the table. Danny looks to attempt to but winds up on the floor again. At least he lands on his butt though! Or the CyberSteps butt really. Oh whatever, all’s the same.

Danny just sits there, ‘legs’ sticking out straight, and vainly attempts to reach over his shoulder to flick the dial. His own normal flexibility surprising him a little at actually being able to reach the thing and turn it. But in typical fashion he turns it the wrong way, taking more from him and watching the legs start smoking concerningly; promptly turning the dial the other way. Everyone watching the smoke while Danny chuckles slightly, “heh”.

Danny decides ‘fuck it, pretty sure these are already busted’ and changes his tail to legs. Promptly reminding himself of the fact that the hooks for his tail are actual hooks via him being actively stabbed. Alright, he really should have seen that coming. Changing back to his tail to hopefully not leak blood everywhere and ecto-burning away any blood that might (definitely) have gotten on the hooks. Using said hooks to use his tail to stand up and get out of the (still smoking)CyberSteps.

Lewis watches him float to sit and grab up some of the brittle, pretty sure there’s some specks of blood on the ‘bandaging’. Which come on really? How does something made entirely of ectoplasm bleed human blood? How? Danny’s body made so little sense. Eddie's made more sense. And Vee was a liquid.

Maddie pats Danny's shoulder, “you alright sweetie?”. Danny of course giving a solid ‘yep’. Which Lewis is calling bullshit on, “I’ll be the judge of that”, earning an eye roll.

Jack nods and rubs his neck, “guess you’d like to check him over right off the bat huh?”, then perking up a bit, “then me and Mads can take the CyberSteps down! Give them a little check over of their own!”.

Making Danny snort, “really splitting the work there. A bio mechanic and tech mechanic. Real two for one. How suiting. Built for me”. Lewis just shoos the pair towards the lab door, Jack scooping up the ‘legs’ and bounding over; Maddie right behind after ruffling Danny’s hair.

Danny mumbles at the table as the lab door closes, “what is with ruffling my hair today?”. Then scowling at Lewis for attempting to ruffle his hair with a small smirk, Danny going intangible to block him.

Lewis rounds on Danny, pointing at his tail, “now, why is that bloody? How’s your back and arm? Can you get concussions? And I thought you said you had legs again?”.

“Twenty-one questions much? Everything’s fine, doc. I discovered the CyberSteps qualify as an iron maiden for legs. If I can get concussions I never have I think. And I’m not legless, I’m leg optional”, changing to legs and crossing them for emphasis and to effectively show off his (still intact)fashion disaster. Feeling slightly cold chair against his bare legs, and possibly the bottoms of his ass cheeks; which he’s studiously ignoring, because Ancients damnit how do girls wear this shit and not feel awkward as Hell.

Lewis blinks, “I’m pretty sure this qualifies as a crime for me to see”, well, no wonder he asked for pants. No guy should be in anything like this against his will; least Danny was rolling with it.

“Fuck the law. Also, I might have encouraged Vee to eat a cop... and a priest”.

Lewis shakes his head and gets up, “again, you’re a bad influence”. Watching Danny as he gets up and walks around his chair, going to head up the stairs. Whelp, guess he can walk. And has the most insane healing factor imaginable. Eddie technically didn’t have any special healing, Vee can just put Eddie back together. Like a jigsaw puzzle that can regrow any lost pieces to boot.

Lewis shakes his head as he closes Danny’s bedroom door, “I am once again in awe of your body”, Danny gives him a really weird look at that and awkwardly slaps his ass. Lewis scowls at him, “no. Eddie can do that, not you”, gesturing for the boy to sit down so he can make sure everything’s as it should be for a healthy person.

Danny raises an eyebrow, giving his arm over, “Eddie slaps his ass at you?”, muttering to the side, “I think Tuck is winning a bet”.

Lewis studiously ignores that, he had more than a few people question if his friendship with Eddie was really ‘just friends’. Sure, he and Anne had talked about that, opening things up. But they were pretty agreed on that being a bad idea. At least currently anyway. Pulling at bandaging, “back to tail, I somehow think that’ll be easier to wrap and less wasteful”, both of them shaking their heads at the flesh-coloured tail. Lewis quirks an eyebrow at his waist coming to a clean smooth flat end before transitioning to the tail. Eh, least he was healed and wrap-able; positives Lewis, positives.

Checking over the braces quickly, only having to change out a cracked back brace surprisingly. And very closely checking Danny’s job of reattaching his arm, the kid was seriously too good at stitching; and bone alignment apparently. Leaning back and nodding at his own work, pointless as it technically was, “guess I don’t have to gas you now”.

Danny grimaces, he’s not going to underestimate Lewis’s seriousness about healing again, “you were seriously going to do that, huh?”. Lewis just smirks at him as Danny floats up off the bed.

Lewis speaks up before Danny turns his doorknob, “speaking of Eddie, what is up with everyone thinking you’re old?”. Danny’s grin is downright malicious, “what? Did you not believe me when I pointed out time travel is a dear friend of mine”, finger-gunning at the doc, “I do have basically the god of time in my corner after all. And a time slash dimension-hopping map”.

Lewis nods acceptingly, “I’m surprised time jumping is even legal. Though ClockWork seems like the type that might not care”.

Danny chuckles, “law means nothing to them. Time loves crime. We’re like twins”, and grins meanly before opening the door and going to head back to the kitchen; Lewis following. Maybe see what ideas his folks have now, inspire them a little; they seemed kinda stuck. Which at this point was fair. For every thing that worked, something else didn’t.

The two enter to the two parents glaring at the table and off-handledly munching on brittle. Danny blinks, looks to Lewis, shrugs, and turns back to his folks. Floating over to the table, “drawing blanks?”. Jack nods and hums; taking another bite. Danny moving to sit, cooking his tail around the seat.

Maddie looks at Danny and squints, “it’s like the timer conductor simply can’t work in proper alignment with itself and you”.

Lewis tilts his head, “well couldn’t you just separate the timer function and conductor function? Sacrifice a little space-saving in the name of functionality?”. This thing working at all is a miracle alone. It also being stylish, and realistic, and compact, and durable, and practically self-sufficient; seems straight-up impossible. “Like a friend likes to say ‘ain’t nothing wrong with the cheap n’ easy option’”, shrugging, “sure, he’s usually talking about food and booze, but I think the mindset applies”.

Jack shakes his head absently, mumbling into his food, “only the best for Danny-boy”. Maddie pats his arm comfortingly. Lewis points at him, “working at all might be the best though”. Jack just grumbles incoherently at that.

Danny shrugs awkwardly, “I’m fine either way. An extra dial is nothing really”. He is not going to school or walking around town without legs, Ancients Damnit!

Maddie sighs and nods, “we’ll see, we’d rather not of course, but we’ll see.  I’m not entirely convinced that would work anyway. Might make it even worse. Since the two need to communicate so closely and heavily. Control how much is taken, how, and stored. Control how much is released and where to at a time”.

Jack nods, joining the conversation more in genuine, “I think the timer isn’t working really. It’s just not strong enough. The conductor can’t take little enough, even with storing excess, for the timer to handle; without taking too little to even activate the conductor properly”.

Maddie nods and gives Danny a soft look, “your ecto’s just too strong. The conductor needs to be strong enough to keep up and handle you, but the timer doesn’t seem able to keep up with that. We’re pretty sure the timer’s maxed out”. Danny cringes and rubs his neck, looking around awkwardly. A more power-hungry ghost would be tickled green to hear that.

Jack nods, “feasibly, we could increase storage space but that would botch the design clear to the Zone. Definitely wouldn’t be able to match your physique. Noticeably so”, and glancing at him. Knowing full well Danny wouldn’t be happy with that.

Danny instantly grimacing, “yeah no. I’ll pass on that option”. Earning a round of nods.

Lewis leans back and taps his chin, “I’m assuming by ‘too strong’ you mean ecto-level right? And could you just... make a different kind of timer? Or a conductor that could compress his energy on top of storing it?”. Hey, sometimes an outside perspective helped.

Maddie raises an eyebrow at Dan, “oh? Danny explained ecto-levels, I take it?”, shaking her head, “this timer is our newest model. I’m not sure we can currently make something stronger. And everything we’ve got for compression right now are capture devices or would likely hurt anything that could actually feel pain”, and winces slightly from Danny’s sudden sharp glare; promptly getting a matching one from Dan. Right, she was supposed to be rethinking that. And she was, honest. It’s just, they had been so sure. Fiddling with her glove a little, “habit sweetie”. Danny rolls his eyes, like he always did when they would ignore or disregard his opinions; which made her cringe. She probably just took at least a small step back with him. Lewis just continues with the glare.

Jack nods, “we haven’t really had a chance to look into reviewing things, son”, chuckling slightly, “give us some wiggle room, would ya?”. Danny rolls his eyes again but this time he has a slight smile.

Danny shrugs, back brace scraping almost loudly against the back of the chair as he leans back, “well I definitely don’t want anything that hurts ghosts being used on me. And honestly? There was never any reason to think ghosts don’t feel pain”. Lewis just nods, this wasn’t really his fight here; he’ll interject if he thinks he needs to though.

Maddie gestures with her hands, “but they don’t have nervous systems, it doesn’t make any sense. There’s no brain to measure or process that stuff”.

Jack nods a furrows his brows, “same reason we didn’t believe they had emotions. Or the ability to love, or really care about anything other than their Obsession and chaos”. Even Lewis has to admit, he’s got no clue how something without a brain experiences things that require brainwaves and nerves to experience. Ghosts or symbiotes. Though he’s got a few ideas regarding Vee.

Danny blinks, in his opinion it was obvious ghost could feel; both emotions and pain. Literally just look at them and it was obvious. But yeah, he guesses from a purely slightly close-minded human-centric scientific eye it would seem illogical or impossible. And he’s never exactly questioned the ‘how’ of ghosts feeling anything. His ghostly self included. Maybe if he could find an answer to that then his folks might really truly genuinely change their tune on ghosts; instead of just pondering it. So how did he feel things a ghost? Okay stupid question, he felt through his ectoplasm of course. But how? Everything had a slight tingle in ghost form, he had figured he was just feeling his own ecto; but maybe that wasn’t the case. Kinda like how if you pressed your finger down on something and really focused or pressed you could feel your pulse. And Cores were often described -even by him- as like a brain and they effectively were ghost hearts. Maybe that was even more literal. His Core would pulse or vibrate harder if it was doing lots of work, but it would also vibrate pretty noticeably when he was happy; he got teased about ‘purring’ over that. And his Core did get colder and even felt harder when he was pissed off. Kinda wet when he was sad. Huh, he probably should have noticed the emotional connection a long ass time ago; though not really feeling his Core consciously was a good excuse for not, background noise after all. Emotions were effectively felt through the Core. And any pain he experienced did seem to be slightly worse around his chest. So It was probably processing, or whatever, that pain. Sure people didn’t feel head pain every time they stabbed their finger with a knife, but humans were less in-tune with their brains than ghosts were with their Cores. Humans can’t ‘feel’ their brains by just focusing after all. Same went for blood verses ectoplasm though. If anything, ghosts felt more than the living.

Danny blinks, staring down at the table before looking back to his folks; who are giving him curious looks. Well damn, ghosts felt everything with their Cores. He officially gets why they were all so damn protective of them; beyond just instinctively feeling protective. Part of why they were sacred. This also explained his parents' confusion too. They admitted to knowing near nothing about Cores, so they wouldn’t know everything Cores did.

Danny sits up straight and puts a hand over his chest brace, over where his Core was, “it’s the Core. How ghosts feel things. They feel it with their Core”, continuing at his parents eyebrows raising and basically matching Lewis’s curiosity; though he can tell his dad’s restraining himself, which Danny appreciates. “Er, not sure if it’s the same for me -doubt it- but It does react to emotion and general pain. Uh, sometimes before I mentally do”, shrugging awkwardly and trying to make the air feel less crushing, “Sam and Tuck like to poke fun at my, um, purring when I’m happy or really content. Heh”, and glancing around.

Lewis smirks meanly, Danny moving his glancing to him and scowling. It was just like whenever anyone -other than Eddie- called Vee’s little snake head thing ‘cute’; which it was cute. They do that cat bleb thing too, so it was their own fault they were cute. Both Venom and Danny being cat-like wasn’t a similarity he ever expected to find.

Jack kinda wants to ask, ask everything actually, but specifically if Danny could show it or let them feel it? his Core feeling things. But he has a feeling his boy wouldn’t appreciate basically show-ponying. And experiencing an emotion, even faked, at the drop of a hat was kinda hard. Plus! He believes his boy! So does he really need to ask? His wife speaks up before he does, which is so uncommon that Danny is probably weirded out by that. Maddie tilts her head a little, “‘before you mentally do’ so your... Core is actually more emotionally sensitive?”, and squints at the air.

Maddie’s not really sure what to do with that information. She could write it off as a side-effect of forming a Core while still having a brain, nervous system, etcetera. But... realistically it made more sense to think that his Core was very similar to practically the same as a regular Core; an ice Core type specifically. And trying to claim his Core could experience emotions and pain but a regular one couldn’t was a serious fundamental difference. Sure she had hoped his ghost would keep the ability to feel emotions when It fully formed, but for his ghost’s Core to already experience emotions and in a completely different way than humans did... It wouldn’t make any sense if the Core hadn’t come in with Its own emotional setup. Especially if It picked up on emotions first. And there was the whole complication of pain, because her job rather required ‘hurting’ ghosts; but ghosts ‘hurt’ each other so she’s not too bothered by that. But thinking on the ice Core thing, maybe she could jump off from that to try and place how maybe normal his was? Ugh, she seriously wishes they knew more about Cores. “Do you maybe feel things icily?”.

Danny gives her a slightly confused look, he's pretty sure that question wasn’t worded very well. “Like if my Core gets icy with emotions?”, he actually needs the clarification here. At her nod he continues, “uh, It’s always cold. But uh, more cold rock when I’m mad and ice water when sad? I’m not really sure how to put it”, rubbing his neck, “I know I drop room temperatures when I’m mad”, tilting his head, “Sam and Tuck say I literally suck the heat out of them if I’m sad or really bummed or whatever”, shrugging, “has to be, like, strong emotion for others to really notice. I think?”; he’s pretty sure people would say something if he chilled rooms every time he was mildly frustrated. Everyone would have to wear sweaters during tests.

Lewis blinks, maybe it was better his Core was all exhausted at the hospital. But hey, it was a step up from eating someones organs in response to annoyance. Or drinking yourself under the table and then the floor, having questionable gang bangs, and getting a tattoo of a horse eating pickles.

Maddie and Jack exchange a Look. Alright, so his Core absolutely could and did process emotions and in Its own way. They absolutely couldn’t deny that ghosts feeling -and thus caring, experience pain, having morals- was not only plausible but likely. And Danny was right, if ghosts had something they could feel with then there really wasn’t a reason to assume they couldn’t feel. Looking back and nodding at Danny. Jack sticking out his arms, “I guess ice Core ghosts are emotionally cold literally”. And grinning at making Danny snort and laugh.

Danny nods at his dad with an amused smile, putting his chin in a palm/hand brace, elbow on the table. Looking to his mom as she speaks up, “I guess Cores are a lot more than a vital energy source. And if this isn’t just a you thing, a modification of your Core due to being human still, then ghosts wouldn’t be emotionless. Wouldn’t be pure chaos and evil”, sighing and leaning back, “so I guess ghosts really can’t be purely evil. But I think we really need to actually encounter a so-called ‘good’ ghost, to see just what kind of good that is”.

Danny can’t resist a wide grin effectively splitting across his face. That grin becoming pinched and very forced, while his folks jump in their seats a little as a portal just opens up, in the middle of the kitchen.

Lewis’s eyebrows get lost in his hairline successfully and he’s wondering just how often do ghosts just pop up when Danny was involved in literally anything. He’s known Eddie for a year and he’s only dropped a criminal on him once, an alien once sorta twice but he never really had anything to do with Riot, and corpses (or on their way to being a corpse) once; Eddie was much better about giving ‘I’m eating out’ heads up now. Danny he’s known less than a month and there’s been what? Three ghosts dropped on him? The metal one, Skulker, twice. The biker, Johnny right? And that time he almost walked in on the ClockWork ghost, that didn’t quite count as an encounter though.

Lewis physically wheezes at the timing of this ghost as they stick their blue hood-covered head through the portal. While Danny feels the need to forcibly restrain himself from smacking ClockWork over the head, as they float fully through the portal in their child form.

Jack and Maddie blink, if they were a little less tired then they would have immediately whipped out pistols from their suits and held the spook at gunpoint; though holding back on firing until this strange ghost seemed hostile, if for anything to appease their (definitely overly ghost friendly)son and try out his ‘ghosts aren’t evil’ mindset.

Jack and Maddie’s sleep deprivation-induced hesitance gives the ghost the chance to smirk mischievously and speak, “you called?”.

Danny blinks and gapes like a fish, clacking his jaw shut to avoid yelling ‘what the fuck ClockWork?!?!?’ because seriously. What the fuck are they thinking? What are they doing? Has his guardian lost their damn mind? Has all their sense of reason and common sense utterly timed out? What’s their malfunction? Does their clock Core need Its batteries changed? The hands tightened? The clock face or case polished? The pendulum realigned? Danny tears his eyes off them and looks to his parents, opening his mouth back up, “uhhhhhhh”.

Lewis sighs into a hand, “and you are?”. Jack and Maddie glance at him quickly with looks of utter disbelief; was the man just utterly unflappable?

Danny just loses it at that, ‘cause take a fucking context clue mr. smart doctor man, “do you not see the clocks everywhere? Whom the fuck DO YOU THINK?!?”.

Lewis levels him with an unimpressed look, “I’m being nice”. This was probably ClockWork, but he wasn’t one for assumptions.

Jazz walks downstairs rubbing her eyes and yawning, “it’s five in the morning? Why are you-”, yawning, “-yelling? Why are you up?”. Then drops her hand, stops walking, and stares.

ClockWork grins, “hello Jasmine”.

“You... know my name?”.

Danny thumps his head on the table, “they know everything”, confirming who this was to her and Lewis really, while Danny bangs his head on the table repeatedly.

[thisonesforfanfic]

Light in the Dark (2/?)

Bucky x Reader

Author’s Note: I’m new at this, I do not know which warnings to put in, please help if you think I need to do so 

Summary: Steve finally comes back to camp, along with your brother and Bucky. He shamelessly flirts with you,and as you try to brush him off, you challenge Bucky to help you on the medic tent

Word count: 2.9k

It has been two days since you met Captain America, you were starting to get sick to your stomach just at the thought of not seeing him again. It's not like you wanted to be with him or anything, he was kind and sweet, but also your last hope of seeing Y/B/N alive again.

You had seen that british lady Peggy yesterday, and she didn't sound exactly hopeful

"There is not much we can do now miss Y/L/N, I am confident he made it in, but given the amount of shots that hit our plane and the time passing, I am certain he was and I will be in a lot of trouble"

You could tell she liked him, and it saddened you to see her have to deal with this in such a cold way, but you were in no state of mind to help anyone in anyway right now.

You hadn't really slept in the past 48 hours. You piled boxes, changed patches, kept reorganizing all the cabinets, folding sheets, running to the entrance of the camp every now and then when you thought you heard any commotion. Your uniform was the only thing looking okay at that moment, puffy eyes, your hair pulled back on the same messy braid you made two days ago. You were a mess.

When the sun started to shine, you thought you heard yet another commotion and started to curse yourself and your stupid hopes for making you hallucinate. It you took a few seconds to notice that, this time, you were not imagining things, curious eyes and ears were all going to the front of the camp.

You thought you were hallucinating again, an even stronger one this time, but it honestly didn't matter, you started running with everything you still had in you, tears of hope and desperationdripping down your face, pushing your way through the crowd, as you finally got to the gate and saw them. You saw Y/B/N's eyes widening as you screamed his name.

"Y/N?" he couldn't think straight as you jumped onto his arms, tears of joy and relief streaming down both of your faces "wha- why are you here? how long have you been here?" he was a little disoriented, trying to look at you but you didn't want to let go of his embrace

"It doesn't matter, I'm with you now, I knew he would bring you back!" You pulled away only to hug the blond tall figure standing right next to you "I knew you would save him, thank you so much Steve!" Your cheeks were even hurting for smiling so hard, so many good feelings sorrounding you at that moment, you didn't even noticed the whole convoy of men behind them, stoping for a second to admire the tender reencounter, imagining their wives, lovers or sisters, others just admiring the lightness of the moment after all they had suffered.

When you pulled away to once again look at your brother, not being able to hold back your smile, he put his arms around you and you hugged his waist as close as you possibly could. As everyone started walking into camp again, you heard a playful voice on Steve's side

"Well, I also want a hug like that doll". You looked over to a blue eyed man, who opened his arms playfully to you with a wink.

That was a playboy if you ever saw one. Hitting on nurses and medics was common on the conditions they were, but damn, the man hadn't even passed the gate after being held captive for God knows how long and he was already flirting.

Thankfully, your job there made you quick on your feet

"Your friend over here just saved my brother and apparently all these men's lives" you said while pointing in all direections "so I'd say the stakes are pretty high for you to get yours" you smirked back, he let his arms down and raised his eyebrows looking at steve, quite impressed at your response.

"When you figure out your grand act, I will be at the medic ward waiting for you, doll " you sent a wink to him making your brother and Steve almost trip while laughing.

"I'll see you soon then" He took it as a challenge, and you were intrigued by the grin he sent your way.

After all the commotion and praising, you had to go back to tend the wounded they brought back, they really did put up a fight while getting out, you had a very long day ahead of you.

It was a very busy morning, you didn't stop even for a second, the first couple of hours were pretty easy, you were taken by the adrenaline of seeing Y/B/N again, and having him help you out was a bliss. He wasn't exactly a doctor but he could do the basic 'clean then cover' on more artificial wounds. Altough there were quite a few nurses, all help was welcome in days like these when there were just too many wounded.

As the sun peaked, the restlessness of last night started to kick in, and you went to rest for the afternoon, after working for almost a day straight (aside from all the other emotions of course) you didn't trust yourself to help anyone else for at least a couple of hours. Some of the other nurses seemed mad about it, but Megan stood up for you and said she'd cover for you if need be.

----

It was already dark when you were woken up by Megan.

"Hey love, sorry to wake you" she stroke your shoulder while sitting by your side "your brother left a couple of hours ago, and I really need a break.... Things have quieted down, but you know, tonight's shift was yours and we can't leave them unattended"

"Thanks for letting me sleep so much" you yawned and got up and quickly got dressed. Stepping into the room you went around checking every soldier's vitals and bandages, making small talk to check if they were consious, though, most had already fallen asleep, as you got to the last couple of beds, you spotted a pretty decent man, no big wounds or cuts, just a smirk and drawing blue eyes, staring at you as you approached.

"So, what was it mr. Soldier?" you smirked while checking his heartbeat "Did you figure out your heroic act or got hurt trying?

"Honestly doll," he pressed his hand on his heart "I feel like it is being pulled out in pieces" You giggled ate his terrible acting "Ough, there goes another one" He closed his eyes pretending to feel even more pain

"I am afraid that this is not my specialty mr.-" He stopped you from going back to the other soldiers by grabbing your wrist.

"Call me Bucky" gently pulling you to him "please, it really hurts" He smiled as you got closer to him, unexpectedly grabbing and reading his dog tag. James Buchanan Barnes

"Alright mr. Barnes" You pulled away with a smile "If you want me to fix you, you'll have to help me fix all these men" you pointed to the other beds, he seemed a little unsatisfied with your proposition "But you can start by brewing some coffee for us" you said winking and pointing to a tiny box, at the corner of the room where you kept your share of 'contraband', then, lending him a hand to get up from the bed.

"I think this will qualify as more than just a heroic act" he looked around at the beds before grabbing your hand and pulling you in for an embrace, you quickly went through under his arm, making him twirl and look at you in disbilief.

"First the task, then the reward, doll" you both chuckled as you started to tend the sleeping soldiers.

---

While the time passed, you noticed Bucky wasn't the most skilled while taking care of the wounds, but he was actually trying hard and watching your every move to make everything right, and after a while, you had not nothing to do but stay alert.

Bucky was washing his hands when you came from behind him and to his surprise, actually hugged him. Feeling his heart as you put your hands on his chest, you whispered "Thank you James"

"This isn't fair!" he took your hands on his, making you open your arms and give him some space "This is the kind of reward I wanted" pulling you to his warm chest, resting his head next to yours, the warm breath on your right ear made you shiver, making him feel more confident, as if he gained control over the quick-witted girl, slowly getting his face in front of yours, staring at your Y/E/C eyes as you stared at his blue ones. "And I said, you can call me Bucky" he leaned in closer.

You pulled away before his mouth could get to yours, snapping out of the trance.

"Okay, now that I've drank that much coffee, I doubt I will sleep any moment soon" Bucky sat at one of the empty beds, brushing off the fact you just rejected those soft parted lips. He invited you to sit next to him with a hand gesture "What do we do now?"

"I still have to be awake and ready for any inconviniences, but I suppose you earned the right to access a very special stash" he raised his eyebrows as you went to the corner of the room and grabbed another lightwood box and brought it to him, he chuckled as you opened the smuggled liquor.

"So you carry around a knife and smuggle drinks" Bucky said on a scoffing tone while analyzing one of the bottles "Are you undercover trying to destroy us from the inside?" he grimaced.

"These are some of the perks of owning a bar back home" you chuckled, putting the box down "Heroic acts deserve recognition, and so do bad ones" you tapped on the knife Steve had given back to you earlier, with a proud grin.

"You and Y/B/N must have really proud parents, a soldier and a beautiful strong nurse for children" He noticed you felt bothered by his words, leting your head down, while still trying to keep a smile on "Did I say somenthing wrong? I am sorry doll, I didn't mean to offend you" he quickly got up and put his hand on your face, holding your head up, making you look at him, worry filling his piercing blue eyes as he tried to understand his mistake.

"Don't worry about it James, it's just... I miss them, that's all, I wish they could see me and Y/B/N now" He put his arms around you, feeling guilty from bringing up such a delicate subject.

"Please forgive me doll, I had no clue" He squeezed you thight before stepping back to look at you, his arms still around your waist.

"It's usually okay to talk about them, but it's just been a very emotional day" you shrugged and tried to laugh to lighten the mood. "Plus, you already did your good deeds today, you don't need to listen to some boring old stories". The man was just hitting on you a couple hours ago, you'd love to spend your time talking about your family, but you also didn't want to be a burden to anyone, specially on these circunstances.

"As I said, I don't think I will be sleeping any time soon" Bucky sat down, waiting for you to take your place beside him, when you did, he put his arms around you, gently stroking your arm then continued "So, what is the story behind you doll?"

You started to tell him about your mom, how she was the one who inspired you to be where you were. She was a healer, and she sacrificed herself so your father could escape with you and your brother to the US, one of the few things you still had from hers were her notebooks, filled with medicine recipes and bandages techniques.

Your father, on the other hand, was a preacher, but when you moved he changed his purpose, helping people outside of the church. Supporting soldiers who came home from the first great war, as well as the families of those who didn't. Funny enough, he also had a bar to cover the expenses. Your parents' actions inspired you and your brother to dedicate yourselves to the country that welcomed you.

After a while, you and Bucky were just laughing, telling jokes and making fun of eachother's stories. You were so tired though, you felt the weight of your eyelids like never before, you tried to stand, but Bucky held you close.

"Don't worry, I'm awake, you can rest for a bit" you smiled and quickly fell asleep on his shoulder while listening to his smooth voice, humming a sweet melody.

Bucky thought you looked so peaceful, he didn't dare to move. Such a beautiful, funny and sweet girl, sorrounded by pain and chaos, still managing to keep it together.

"Sleep tight doll" he whispered, trying not to startle you" I'll keep watch". Little did he know, at that moment, his heart was already done for.

-----

The following week was exhilarating, you'd meet your brother, Steve and Bucky before they had to complete their duties, always trying to cheer them up with some funny story, especially when they had to go to the field. After that you'd take the first shifts in the tent, and sometimes check with miss Peggy on the status of the batallion's missions. When the soldiers would get back, you usually had dinner with them, Steve and Y/B/N would usually go to their tent right after, but Bucky always had an excuse to get your attention afterwards: a small cut, a bruise, a slight burn.

You realized pretty quickly he was just trying to spend some time together, so you decided to stargaze with him (instead of bothering the night shift's nurse) as you talked about what you wanted to do when the war was done. It was the moment you most lunged for in your day, his arms innocently wrapped around you as you both layed on the back of an unloaded truck.

It all went by with the blink of an eye though, before you knew it, the time for your break came around. You were relieved to be able to escape for a while, but at the same time you didn't want to go, it was not only your brother that made the departure hard, but also the couple of friends you made.

Steve was one of the sweetest people you'd ever met, always checking in on you, offering a hand and a smile. And then there was James... oh, Bucky, always hitting on you, as if he lunged for your teases in the same way you lunged for his blued-eyed glances and flirts.

You caught yourself staring at him while the three boys were telling you about their newly formed batallion, meant to take down Hydra. Bucky playfully sent a a wink your way before you could turn to your brother,  getting you off guard and making your cheeks turn red.

"Careful Barnes, I've seen her punch a man's teeth out for less" your brother let out with a chuckle. "And you better not be getting any ideas" he looked at you with a grin

"And you better stay safe if you wanna start making threats" you pulled him in for a hug "Or I'll punch your teeth out next"

"Y/N..." You felt the pain at his voice, not wanting to let you go alone.

"You know Y/B/N, I take better care of dad's bar when you're not there to drink half of every bottle" trying to get a laugh out of him before you let go "So don't worry about me, I can take care of myself. It's you I worry about" you put your hand on his cheeks, looking in his eyes "come home to me" he nodded, and you went on to hug the super soldier, by his side.

"You too Steve, I better be pouring drinks for you all on the bar in a couple of weeks" you hugged him tight, whispering in his ear "please keep him safe"

"Of course I will, doll" it sounded so sweet and innocent when he called you that, when Steve said it was in a sort of platonic, protective way. "I wouldn't miss that drink for nothing"

The loud whistle were the sign for you to hurry, the tears you were holding back started to come through as Bucky took you in his arms.

"We're gonna be alright doll, the worst that will happen is how bad we'll miss you" he tried comforting you

"You better be there too, James" you put your hands on his cheeks and looked into his eyes "or I will come back here to punch your teeth out as well" he smiled at you, and maybe it was just your imagination, but you could swear you saw a tear fall from his eyes when he kissed your forehead before letting you go.

The third and final whistle blew as you gave him a peck on the cheek, grabbed your things and rushed towards the truck, not taking your eyes off the trio. Waving goodbye until they were completely out of sight.

#############

Thanks for reading! 

[fucking-zawa-sensei]

Another Word for Family - erasermic

Title: Another Word for Family

Rating: M

Pairing: erasermic

Word Count: 10k+

Summary:

Shouta would never forget the way she’d whispered, in a voice that made it sound like she was on the verge of breaking apart from the inside out, face pressed into Shouta’s shoulder, thank you.

The words were haunting, as if she’d never expected to be saved, as if she never thought they’d keep her, as if she was still down there, in those dark labs, arms covered in bandages, being torn apart. 

Notes: A fic for the lovely @corndog-patrol for our server’s giftswap, who probably had no idea that I would somehow combine all of their prompts (1. Sexiest Mic Ever, 2. Dadmic with Eri, and 3. Erasermic formal wear) into one fic. I know you said no rats or you would scream, but there’s no way I could resist that. Please don’t yeet this into the void before giving it a chance, lmao. Love you!

Read the full fic on AO3 here

Another Word for Family

“She seems upset.”

Shouta’s thumb slips where he’s feeding his baby blue silk tie through its knot. He licks his bottom lip, tasting a bit of mango from the chapstick Hizashi had less than subtly thrust his way once he’d stepped out of the bathroom, the blond’s palm scrubbing over his freshly shaven face. Hizashi had said, “Soft…” before sliding the pad of his pointer finger across Shouta’s mouth, and continuing with, “Unlike other things.”

Now, he turns around, pulling the tie through and smoothing it down against his dress shirt. Hizashi is standing facing the full length mirror, eyebrows pulled together in contemplation, green eyes shining more than usual with the thin line of glimmering gold eyeliner penciled along his upper lid. They’re downcast, though, seemingly staring at his equally metallic oxford shoes.

The last time he’d worn them, Hizashi’s face had been dimpled by his stretched grin, eyes curved up in little crescents, happily tapping the hard soles against the wooden floor of their living room. It had been their anniversary, and Shouta had decided that while he may have said he hated the shoes when his husband practically pressed his face against the display window in the mall, he quite loved the way Hizashi’s smile seemed to inch larger and larger each time his feet skipped across the floor.

That was the thing about being in a relationship, something Shouta quickly learned the first time he felt himself falling in love with the other man, it wasn’t about you anymore.

Humans are inherently selfish, but Shouta would give Hizashi everything he had, and when he had nothing left, he’d go find more just for him, all for him.

Shouta walks across the room, coming up behind his half-dressed husband, Hizashi’s shirt still hanging on the back of their closet door, along with at least seven other options. It’s times like these Shouta is happy he only has about three suits, and that his hero work bulked him up enough that formal wear was one aspect of Hizashi’s closet he couldn’t really slip into with the blond’s penchant for wearing everything very tight.

Shouta slips his hands through the space between Hizashi’s arms, pulling the other man against his chest as he rests his chin on the blond’s bare shoulder. His palms go to Hizashi’s lightly fuzzed stomach, stroking over the soft skin.

Maybe he couldn’t fit into Hizashi’s clothes like he could in college, but he sure as hell had plenty of fun appreciating the way they looked on his husband’s body.

One of Hizashi’s hands comes overtop his, and the other reaches up to stroke through Shouta’s hair.

“Who is upset?” Shouta asks. “Right now, it looks like you.”

Hizashi snorts lightly, a forced, sarcastic laugh. He sighs out heavily afterward.

“Eri.”

Shouta’s teasing smile drops off his face, his body straightening up to look at Hizashi in the mirror.

“What makes you say that?” he asks.

It had been a little over two months that the girl had been living with them as an official member of their family. Before that, she’d been living at the dorm, hospitals, and being traded around between the teachers. She certainly spent a fair amount of time at Shouta and Hizashi’s house, but never permanently, never as part of their household, not really. It took a lot of paper work and house visits, and more than one very difficult meeting with the adoption representatives in which they discussed the morbid possibilities of their chosen professions, but they’d finally adopted Eri.

Shouta would never forget the way her eyes spilled over with tears, the way her cheeks flushed red with joy as she laughed and smiled and hugged them both with a grip tighter than he knew was possible from a girl her age.

He’d never forget the way she’d whispered, in a voice that made it sound like she was on the verge of breaking apart from the inside out, face pressed into Shouta’s shoulder, thank you. The words were haunting, as if she’d never expected to be saved, as if she never thought they’d keep her, as if she was still down there, in those dark labs, arms covered in bandages, being torn apart.

In that moment, he’d looked to Hizashi and saw a harsh determination in those eyes. It was one he hadn’t seen since the man was a boy, shorter, lankier, face shoved into the pavement, speaker prototype crushed beside him, staring at Shouta from across the alleyway where their first internship experience had gone more than a little bit wrong.

I’ll get us out of here, he’d promised, blood spilling out of the corner of his mouth, mixing with the gravel.

He did.

Shouta didn’t have to voice his thoughts, 10 years of marriage made silent communication easy.

We’re not done rescuing, he’d thought. We still have to save her.

Hizashi’s eyes bore into his, answered, we will.

Shouta sighs, steps back from Hizashi, using his hands on the other man’s stomach to turn him around. Hizashi looks sadly up at him from beneath his long lashes.

“I know,” Shouta admits. “Some days are good...but…”

“More days are bad,” Hizashi finishes. “Anymore, at least.”

“She seems to be getting more distant again, like she was when we first took her from Overhaul. I thought she warmed up so much...I don’t know why she’s reverting…”

Hizashi shakes his head, stepping around Shouta to sit on the bed. He lightly clicks the toes of his shoes together, a sad half smile flicking onto his face for a moment.

“Do...do you think it’s us? Or…”

Shouta narrows his eyes, assessing the slump to Hizashi’s shoulders, the way his arms are held tighter against his sides than usual. Everything about him screams defeated, insecure.

“Or what?” Shouta prods, already knowing the answer.

“Is it me?”

Shouta opens his mouth, rebuttals piling up inside his throat one after another, but Hizashi holds up his hand and closes his eyes.

“I just...I know I’m not doing anything wrong. I know. I don’t mean that I think she hates me or something, but she doesn’t seem comfortable with me the way she is with you. Her face lights up when you come home...she wants you to read her stories...she brings her drawings to you first. It’s just…obvious she prefers you.”

“That’s not…” Shouta shakes his head. “That’s just because I was on the rescue mission. She prefers Midoriya to the other students as well because he saved her. That has nothing to do with who you are...it will fade.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just wish I could make her feel safe and happy.”

“You do.”

Hizashi opens his eyes and gives Shouta a soft smile, but it doesn’t feel confident.

“I just worry that the reason she’s becoming more distant is because you’ve started picking up more patrols and I’m home more than you now. Maybe she just doesn’t feel comfortable with me.”

“That comes with time,” Shouta insists, sitting down on the bed beside Hizashi. He reaches a hand over to grab Hizashi’s hand, squeezing gently.

“I don’t think it’s possible for someone to not warm up to you,” Shouta says. “I certainly did, and believe me, I tried very hard to ignore you.”

Hizashi laughs, a genuine, rich, charming noise. It makes Shouta’s heart pick up a bit, makes his skin feel a little warmer, relaxing into the sound.

“I’m serious,” Shouta says, leaning over to kiss Hizashi’s cheek. “Even if she’s still a little guarded around you, it will go away. She has a home now, for the first time, and that’s going to take some getting used to. Having people around her constantly, having someone excited to see her, interested in what she’s doing, that’s all foreign to her. I’m...calmer...you know? It’s easier for her to relate to.”

“Are you telling me I have to be quiet, is that it?” Hizashi’s pout is over the top, exaggerated in a way that lets Shouta know he’s kidding, teasing, that Shouta’s words are making him feel more like himself again.

“Well, a little quiet couldn’t hurt,” Shouta jokes back, sliding his hand around Hizashi’s back to place it on the blond’s still bare hip. He pulls Hizashi toward him, into a half hug.

“We’re a family. It’s not about you or me. It’s about us. All of us. If she’s sad, that’s on both of us. We’ll help her, we’ll fix it. She’s still recovering and it’s our job to make sure we do whatever we can to help that process be as painless as possible,” Shouta says, rubbing his thumb into Hizashi’s side soothingly. “But we’re all recovering. So it’s okay for you to have off days too.”

Shouta knows this part is important, makes sure Hizashi’s eyes are focused on him when he says it, because the other man had a tendency to put everyone else’s needs before his own in a way that sometimes became unhealthy. He also had an insane ability to manifest self-guilt out of seemingly nowhere, over seemingly nothing.

“She loves you.”

“I know,” Hizashi says, and his voice is confident, clear. A smile sits comfortably upon his face and Shouta feels himself exhale.

“Okay, now are you going to let me go to this fancy award show of yours with my hair the way I want it or are you-”

“No way! I’m doing it!” Hizashi jumps up, his energy rebounding spectacularly.

Shouta sighs, but it’s fake, and the quirk to his lips makes that plenty clear as Hizashi runs to the bathroom to grab a brush and some hairbands.

He leans back on his elbows, staring up at the ceiling with a half-smile on his face, listening to the sounds of his husband rummaging around in the drawers.

Slowly, though, his smile drops off as his mind wanders to Eri. Was she doing alright getting ready? She’d insisted on picking out her own clothes, but had hesitantly agreed to allow Hizashi to do her hair as well. Shouta bites at his lower lip.

Hizashi had been doing her hair since before they’d adopted her. Some days she’d practically skip over to him in the teacher’s lounge with a hand full of colorful clips and bobbles that one of the students had bought her.

So why had she looked so unsure of herself when they’d offered to help her get ready for the event tonight?

The door to the bathroom swings back open and Shouta is torn from his thoughts, watching as Hizashi approaches with a smile and a bottle of hairspray.

“No, no, no, none of that!” Shouta protests, sitting back up, glaring at the metal spray can.

“But it’s humid today! They’re taking pictures outside when we arrive!” Hizashi defends as he sits down on the bed again.

“I don’t care. That stuff is so hard to get out.”

“I’ll get it out for you!”

Shouta raises his eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Hizashi says, smirk on his face, as he drops his voice lower. He leans close, chest pressed against Shouta’s upper arm and shoulder as he whispers into his ear. “I’ll lather it up real good, my hands massaging your scalp, sliding through your hair, then down your neck, your back, your-”

“Okay, okay-” Shouta gasps, pushing Hizashi away. “Save it for later. We’re running out of time.”

Hizashi laughs, sitting back a bit. “Since when do you care about being on time to these things?”

Shouta looks away, to their slightly cracked bedroom door and the hallway beyond it.

Since Eri.

“I just want to get this over with,” he says instead, not wanting to let Hizashi know he shares the other man’s concerns about their new daughter’s emotional state.

“Fine, fine,” Hizashi says and begins brushing out the tangles in Shouta’s hair. “I’ll make this quick.”

Shouta leans into the touch, closing his eyes. As tense as he was feeling right now, this was always relaxing. Hizashi had an amazing, gentle nature.  

If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up being lulled to sleep like this.

Then we’d never make it to the award show, he thinks.

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

Read the rest of the fic here