#if the apocalypse comes / beep me ! › answered.

[giftedeath]

@goddessrisen / starters ; ❛ you can yell at me later. just let me help you. ❜

nervous  hands  move  frantically  to  clean  up  the  mess  she  had  made,  𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒚  𝒌𝒏𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒔  and  bandages  strewn  haphazardly  around.   ❛  do  i  yell  at  you  a  lot  or  something  ?  ❜  buffy  lets  out  a  low,  slightly  sarcastic  chuckle.  but  it’s  also  her  way  of  accepting  the  help,  pushing  the  first  aid  kit  in  hyeon’s  direction.  ❛  you  ever  heard  of  a  mohra  demon  ?  turns  out  punching  them  relentlessly  doesn’t  really  do  much.  hence  the  state  i’m  in.  ❜

[slaeg1rl]

he says let me sacrifice myself instead :/

she can't let the world go without that great hero hair :(

[insufferablemonsters]

"I told you, you don't have to deal with this pain on your own. We are in this together now, remember?"

❛ quotes from stories i never finished. ➝ not accepting.

seeing  him  again  after  all  he’s  done  was  terrifying,  and  buffy  was  hardly  scared  of  anything.  she  prided  herself  in  being  brave  and  fearless,  confident  in  her  abilities  to  vanquish  anything  that  dared  to  threaten  her.  any  creature  that  would  poise  a  challenge  towards  her  was  laughable;  literally,  she  would  laugh  in  their  face.  but   …   him?  he  struck  terror  in  her  heart,  what  was  left  of  it  anyway,  after  what  he  had  done  to  her.  she  had  never  meant  for  cardan  to  get  caught  up  in  her  past;  in  fact,  she  wanted  him  to  know  very  little  of  it,  but  the  past  had  found  her,  and  it  was  enough  to  send  her  running  for  the  hills,  with  cardan  by  her  side.  she  had  just  started  to  feel  the  trust  within  her  grow  for  him  and  the  comfort  her  brought  her  was  enough  to  fear  her  as  well,  for  it  was  bringing  out  a  sense  of  vulnerability  she  never  knew  she  had  inside.  she  wished  she  could  be  alone  in  her  old  studio  apartment  right  now  so  she  could  hide  in  the  darkness  and  not  have  to  face  her  worst  enemy.  but,  she  couldn’t.  and  she  wouldn’t.  she  didn’t  want  to  leave  the  prince  by  himself,  especially  now  knowing  that  angelus  was  lurking  in  the  vicinity.  what  did  he  want  from  her?  hadn’t  he  done  enough  to  her?  hadn’t  he  already  destroyed  every  part  of  her  that  she  loved  about  herself,  leaving  her  alone  with  a  broken  heart  that  couldn’t  be  mended?  It’s  been  years  since  she’s  seen  him  and  yet,  she  was  still  all  he  thought  about.  her  face  rested  in  her  hands,  her  blonde  hair  falling  on  each  side  as  she  rested  her  elbows  on  her  knees,  sitting  on  the  edge  of  their  motel  bed.  she  needed  to  figure  out  a  plan  for  them  to  get  away  and  be  safe,  to  get  him  back  home  like  she  was  supposed  to.  now  she  had  to  worry  about  angelus  finding  them,  on  top  of  all  the  other  responsibilities  she  found  herself  in.  her  shoulders  felt  heavy  from  the  burden  that  was  thrust  upon  her.  she  then  heard  cardan’s  soft  words  spoken  to  her,  and  she  instantly  shoots  up  from  her  hands,  finding  his  gaze  as  he  knelt  before  her.  i  wasn’t  alone  anymore,  she  thought  to  herself.  it  was  almost  enough  to  bring  a  small  smile  to  her  face,  but  she  forcefully  turned  her  face  away,  reminding  herself  of  all  the  bad  that  she  allowed  cardan  to  be  involved  in.  she  should’ve  been  honest,  she  should’ve  told  him  that  there  was  a  dark,  vengeful  enemy  that  sought  out  for  her.  now  they  weren’t  alone  anymore,  and  she  didn’t  know  what  to  do.  cardan  didn’t  deserve  someone  that  couldn’t  protect  him.  she  couldn’t  look  at  him,   ❛   he  won’t  stop,  you  know.  you  don’t  know  what  he’s  capable  of   ❜   she  told  him  in  a  soft,  eerie  whisper.  she  finally  manages  to  look  at  him,  and  her  stare  spoke  a  thousand  sorrowful  words,  concern  painting  her  features.  she  leans  in  carefully,  her  voice  shaky  as  she  warned  him,   ❛   i  do,  cardan.  he  won’t  stop  until  he  finds  me  and  anyone  that’s  with  me.  i  can’t  protect  you   ❜   she  finished,  her  eyes  trailing  away  from  him  as  an  idea  sprung  into  her  mind.  she  shoots  up  from  the  bed  she  sat  upon  and  rushed  to  their  bags  to  repack  them  and  any  other  necessities  she  can  take  from  the  motel  room  that  might  be  useful.  her  movements  were  urgent  and  erratic  and  her  limbs  were  shaky,   ❛   we  need  to  go.  tonight.  we’ll  leave.  we’ll  –  we’ll  find  somewhere  else  to  go.  i-i  can’t  protect  you  here.   ❜

[phyrestartr]

OK POLL ON THE NSFW FICS LOL

Zombie Apocalypse AU

#NSFW, reader has an exhibitionist kink, Miguel's a geneticist, reader's a cop, hurt, comfort, infidelity, cheating, mentions of depression and trauma, things work out in the end, nobody dies

He called you again. 

And this time, you answered. 

Miguel's heart jumped. "(Name)?" 

"Babe?" You sounded like you were panting, like you were straining against something. "Are–are you okay? Where are you?" A string of coughs punched out of your lungs in rough staccato, pinching Miguel's nerves with every ghastly beat. He was scared. Why was he scared? 

"I--I'm," Miguel stammered, still unable to have that conversation, still too much of a fucking coward in the end. "Does it matter?" 

"Just keep the doors locked," you continued. "Keep 'em locked, and…and I dunno if you're in a tower or a house or fucking whatever, but don't leave until things get quiet." You picked yourself up from the ground, Miguel could tell by the scratch of gravel echoing wherever you were. "Don't get bit. Don't help anyone who is bit. Put yourselves first." 

"But, I–you–do you have Gabi?" Panic gripped his throat as jets flew overhead, high above the city. The engines roared a gruesome apology, a sound Ouranos himself must have created when his own children slew him, so filled with godly enmity. 

Then, molten death rained on the city. Miguel stared at roaring explosions dotting the cityscape, watching pillars of flame feed into the world's chaos. His hands trembled when the same carnage screeched through your phone. 

"I'll find her. I-I promise, Miguel, I'll find her and--and I'll–shit."  

There was gunfire. Gunfire encased in wild snarling. It devoured the crack of plastic hitting concrete, the noises you gasped out, the–

Silence.

Simple Things [3]

#NSFW, Miguel is HORKNEE

"There–There," Miguel gasped, hips stuttering against your grip, fighting you for a faster tempo. Deliciously curved talons screeched against the lab's stage console while another set hooked into your shoulder, pulling a breathy, staccato laugh from your chest. That sound, that music, tortured Miguel more.

"Here?" You hit that spot again, and his thighs cinched into the dip of your waist with the cruel tenacity of a corset. Your hips rocked against him languidly, grinding against his sweet spot time after time, driving him to infinite, molten ecstasy. 

Blood beaded under his clawed hold as he growled softly, flashing the barest amount of fang. "Shock–please, just–(Name)." It'd almost sound like whining if Miguel hadn't decided he was demanding your cooperation instead. He didn't whine. 

Your mouth found his in a soft, sweet kiss, before your impish smile branded his lips. "I know, baby," you cooed into the warmth of his skin, humming past any precious gasp or moan you pulled out of him. "I'll get you there, just trust me, yeah?"

The warmth in your whispers unknotted the coil in his stomach. Your name caught in his throat at an odd angle, drawing it thin and high and strained behind clenched teeth. It must have been a death rattle, the last gasps before he found his Eden amidst the white fire in his veins, and never came back. 

Your hand on his cheek grounded him, brought him back to Earth enough for his wine red eyes to flutter open and catch your mouth moving, uttering words he couldn't grasp while you reached towards your own undoing. He watched your lips, filling in the words he failed to hear beyond the drumming of his heart beating: you're beautiful, you're so good for me, I love y–

Beep. Beep. Be–CRUNCH.

Miguel's talons decimated his phone as his eyes snapped open. He breathed hard through his nose, his broad chest heaving with every rattling inhale while he came down from that soul-shattering high. Sweat clung to him, his sheets found themselves with new tears, oh and his boxer briefs– 

Really, Miguel? 

Miguel x F!Reader

#NSFW, hurt/comfort, fears of rejection, coming out, thoughts on gender identity, NB girlies rise up I'm one of you, resolutions, Miguel's a good boy

Miguel loved you. You loved him. It was simple. 

Only, it wasn’t. Not for you.

Shame ate you every time you felt his embrace, every time he filled you with a searing heat only he could control in your tumultuous, all-feeling heart. That self-condemnation didn’t come because of who you were, no, but because of what you couldn’t tell him, what you were too afraid to tell him. 

But you could cope, you always had. Did it really even matter, anyway? Did you need to bring that out into the world, to declare you were someone more nuanced than the snarky, kind woman he fell for? Was it worth it to walk and breathe, to sing and smile, to love and dance in the truth of your ipseity if it meant losing your one and only, your partner for life?

You didn’t know. You didn’t know if love would welcome the truth. 

You didn’t think the ceiling would hold the answers either, as much as you stared up at it that morning, hoping for an epiphany. The heels of your palms dug into your eyes while you sighed a shaky, weak sigh, and found the strength to roll out of bed. Or, well, at least sit up. 

“Heeey,” Lyla chirped as she flickered into being beside you. “Everything cool, buddy?” 

You tried a smile and nodded. “Yeah. Everything’s cool. I’m cool. It’s just one of those days, I guess.” 

“Yeah, I get that. It happens, so don’t sweat it, alright?” The digital Tinkerbelle gave you a reassuring, glitchy smile as she made a show of patting your arm. “Is it ‘cause of last night?” 

You grimaced, and Lyla nodded judiciously. 

God, you didn’t want to remember that. Bursting into tears just because he said he loved you was just–it wasn’t exactly how you wanted it to go.

Brother's Best Friend

#NSFW, Reader has a brother, mentions of alcohol and pot, consensual sex, car sex, Miguel gets embarrassed, reader is built different

"Who is that?" Miguel asked over the howl of party-goers and raucous music. He held his shitty beer in one hand, and a weird concoction of juice, something and something suspicious in his other hand. A very college moment for him. 

Seb glanced at who Miguel gestured to with the tilt of a chin, and he burst into drunken laughter. 

"Dude. No. Nooo no no, nope. That's–nyope," he answered, very helpfully. "Just very no." 

Miguel rolled his eyes as his best friend's girl kissed him and stole away Miguel's chance of learning just who the alt weirdo lounging on the couch was. Christ, people in love were so fucking annoying. 

"Why, what's his baggage? Drug dealer? Academic dishonesty?" Miguel took a deep drink from the red solo cup and made a face. "Fuck, what the hell is in this?" 

Sebastian let his girlfriend kiss his neck as he graced Miguel with an answer. "That's my little brother, dipshit. You remember (Name)? I've only mentioned him like a thousand billion times." 

"Huh," Miguel sipped his beer this time. (Name). Through the haze of booze and the boom of the bass, Miguel did somewhat recognize that name. He didn't know you had such a pretty face, though. He didn't think you'd have such a nice body, either. 

Seb smacked his friend's shoulder. "He's sooo off-limits, dude, so off-limits." 

Miguel scoffed, brandishing an arrogant smirk on his handsome face. "Says who?" 

"Says me, you fucking whore–you're not going to stick your horse dick in my baby brother, you got that?" And he sounded serious, but Miguel didn't really care much. "Hey, hey, if you fuck him, I'm gonna rip your cock off and shove it up your ass and then light you on fire, Miguel. I'm so fucking serious. 

"Baby," Seb's girl cooed, "why don't we go wind down a little, huh? I think you need to lay down and cool off." 

"Yeah, go lay down, Sebby," Miguel chided.

"I–but I–okay, I'm gonna go do a 'lil nappy nap," he started, letting his girl drag him away from his arch nemesis, "but when I come back, you better've not cum in my brother, you hear me, O'hara?" 

"Bye bye, sweet dreams," Miguel called instead of answering. He downed the cursed solo drink as soon as Sebastian was truly spirited away, and he made his way over to you. 

ABO-verse

#NSFW, alpha!reader, omega!miguel, courting, reader is a respectful boy, miguel's a spicy omega

You were kind, gentle, and strong.

Miguel was temperamental, stubborn, and even stronger.

Together, you complimented one another quite nicely. Even your biology sought harmony--one presented omega, the other alpha. 

Things got tricky around base when Miguel's heats rolled around. He'd become irritable, quicker to choose violence, and more standoffish than usual–an uncommon set of traits for an omega, but something very uniquely him.

The other omegas, Miguel noticed, became too cutesy, too touchy, too needy for whatever alpha their body demanded, and Miguel loathed it. Loathed it because he had to watch everyone throw themselves at you and beg to be yours. He watched them keen and purr at you, bringing you food to prove they could provide. They gave you gifts, promises of kids, declarations of love, but you calmed them and gently redirected their passions elsewhere. Truly a formidable show of strength. 

But you were still human. 

The first time Miguel slipped up, you were in his lab together, going over anomalies, assigning medical staff to each team, when your back straightened and you looked around, nostrils flaring and eyes widening in surprise. Miguel caught you leaning in and inhaling his scent before you wrenched yourself back and tried to act natural, rubbing your nose and clearing your throat. 

“I, ah–I think your heat’s on the way, Miguel,” You mumbled quietly, despite there being no one else around to hear. Your hand worried at your mouth, rubbing soothingly. “If you want to–If you need to take a break to–” 

“Yeah, I–just give me a second. I'll be quick.” But he’d gone out of his way to touch your shoulder, to give it a firm pat to test the waters, before he headed to another room to deal with the burgeoning issue. He’d felt your eyes shyly follow him as he left. It was quite…cute. Endearing. Inviting. 

After that, not much happened. You had regained composure when Miguel had come back, and business went about as usual.

[inairbinad]

Steve's Got a Date with a Vampire!

part one of seven | 4.9k | AO3 Now Complete!

Where Eddie wakes up a little bit different, Steve is obsessed, and Dustin gets his Meddling Kids Platinum Badge™. I know I posted a couple teasers from the last chapter of this over the weekend, but friendly reminder that this is primarily an idiots to lovers fic, and they take their sweet ass time getting there. Warnings: None for this part, except the obvious mentions of blood.

Steve didn’t ever really leave Eddie’s bedside, while he was sleeping. The only breaks he took were to shower or go visit Max down the hall. Most nights he stayed past visiting hours, the nursing staff having long given up on trying to stop him falling asleep in an uncomfortable hospital chair—oftentimes with Lucas's head resting on his shoulder.

One of those nights, with Steve already leveled with exhaustion and barely holding his own head up, Robin came in to sit with him.

“Steve,” she all but whispered.

“I’m okay, Rob,” he said automatically. “Just gonna rest my eyes for a bit, then I’ll drive you home.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Robin said, sounding fondly annoyed. “Nancy’s gonna drive me. But—don’t you think you should go home and get some rest?” she tried.

They’d had this conversation every day for the last three, now. Steve hadn’t yet relented.

“I’m just gonna worry if I go home,” he said honestly. “I won’t sleep. At least here I know they’re both still breathing.”

Eddie had made strides in that regard, at least; they’d extubated him earlier that day. There still weren’t any signs of him waking up, though, and there was no change at all with Max.

Robin sighed, apparently having expected that answer. She was quiet for a minute, as they both listened to the slow beep of Eddie’s heart monitor.

“Can I ask you something?” Robin asked, voice still low. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, to be clear.”

Steve had an idea of what was coming next and let it happen anyway.

“Sure,” he said.

“This,” she started, gesturing towards Steve slumped in his chair, “is more than just guilt, isn’t it?”

Of course Robin knew. She always went on about how she couldn’t read social cues very well, but Steve couldn’t ever get anything past her. Maybe it was their “telepathic brain thing” that Dustin always complained about them doing. Sometimes it weirded Steve out a little, but right now he was just grateful for it. For Robin.

“No,” he said. His voice sounded small. “It’s hardly guilt at all, really.”

Robin just made little humming noise to herself. Steve took that to mean she wanted him to keep going.

“I mean, I wish we’d done things differently, obviously” Steve said, laughing bitterly so that he wouldn’t cry instead. He’d go back and do things over a thousand times not to end up here again. “I wish I’d stayed with him and Dustin, maybe. Or dealt with Jason when we’d had the chance…” he trailed off, thinking of Max down the hall, Lucas’s swollen face, and the way Erica jumped at every loud noise now. “I’d do a lot differently—or I wouldn’t do it at all. But I blame Vecna more than I blame myself, believe it or not.”

He couldn’t quite figure out what Robin was thinking, or what the look she was giving him meant. Her eyes were soft, a little sad, but also something else.

“I just,” Steve started, but he didn’t know how to say it out loud. Except he knew Robin was waiting for him to, and that she’d be proud of him if he did. The promise of that propelled Steve forward. “I can’t lose him, Robin. Not when I just got him.”

Steve didn’t think he had Eddie, not really. He just knew how Eddie’s teasing grin made his insides warm. How whichever pet name for Steve fell out of his lips at any given moment made him almost forget the apocalypse they were fighting together. Steve didn’t need to have Eddie as his own, he thought. He just needed to know he was alive, that Steve had more days ahead of Eddie invading his personal space, and leaving Steve breathless when he left his scent of smoke and something spicy in his wake.

“You won’t,” Robin said, something steely in her voice now as she grabbed Steve's hand and squeezed. “Neither of them are going anywhere. Not if I can help it.”

Steve did his best to believe her.

———

On the seventh morning of Eddie’s hospital stay, Steve dragged himself into Eddie’s room like usual. Coffee didn’t really do much to quell his exhaustion these days, but he sipped on some anyway as he got to his new routine. He played one of Eddie’s cassettes—quietly, as he’d gotten plenty of dirty looks from the nurses for being too loud before—humming along as he pulled a chair up next to Eddie’s bed. He was so still, Steve couldn’t help reaching out to thread his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, just to feel his pulse still beating away.

This time it stuttered under Steve’s touch. That was new. Steve looked at Eddie’s face, confused. He looked peaceful, like this. His skin was still cool to the touch, but his breathing was even, pulse slow and now jumpy. Was that a good sign?

“Hey, Munson,” Steve said, settling in. He let his grip around Eddie’s wrist loosen, leaving his hand to cover Eddie’s own instead. “It’s been seven days in here, now. Three since you’ve been breathing on your own again. Max is still asleep, too. I wish I had better news. Dustin misses you. I miss you,” Steve sighed and tried to think of something cheerful to share.

“The press does seem to be buying the government’s alternate serial killer theory, since it’s simpler than ’Satan did it,’ I guess. Wayne said the police are working on closing the case against you, so that’s a relief, at least.” Steve dropped his head into his free hand. What good was clearing Eddie’s name if he wouldn’t wake up to see it himself?

“I was wondering why I wasn’t handcuffed to the bed,” a surprisingly smooth and awake voice said above him.

Steve’s head snapped up so fast his neck cracked. Eddie was looking down at him already, his brown eyes darker, somehow. But they were open, bright, and alive. Steve felt his mouth stretch into a wide grin. He didn’t know what to say for what felt like a long time, just smiling stupidly at Eddie.

“Disappointed by that?” Steve finally replied, then immediately felt like kicking himself. Here Eddie was, waking up from a coma, and Steve couldn’t even figure out how to say something normal. Something like, how are you feeling or can I get you some water, sprang to mind too late. But apparently all Steve’s stupid little brain could manage was something not-so-vaguely flirtatious under Eddie’s gaze.

But Eddie didn’t seem to mind. In fact, if Steve wasn’t totally deluding himself, it seemed like Eddie liked it. He didn’t blush, but he looked flustered. Hungry. Steve let that revelation settle deep into his bones, warm and pooling like syrup.

Then he got his shit together.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, squeezing Eddie’s hand. He was still cold. Eddie’s gaze flicked down to Steve’s neck and back. If Steve hadn’t been analyzing Eddie’s every move—for any sign that he might break, might fall back into a coma, might leave again—he’d have probably missed it.

“Starving,” was all Eddie said with a devilish grin.

Steve watched, somewhat dazed, as Eddie let the doctors marvel over his recovery for about forty-five minutes before checking himself out against medical advice. His bites had already scarred over, completely healed in somewhat miraculous fashion. The doctor’s seemed mildly concerned about Eddie’s circulation, given how much blood he’d lost and how slow his pulse still was. But all of his tests were normal, had been for days now. He didn’t seem to have any muscle atrophy, no loss of brain function. He was just Eddie.

So Steve didn’t argue when Eddie asked him to drive him home as soon as possible. Steve wheeled Eddie down the hall to visit Max before he took him back to the motel where Wayne was staying. Eddie had complained loudly about the wheelchair, only relenting when Steve gently laid a hand on his shoulder and said, “Humor me.”

They sat with Max for a while, sobering Steve’s giddiness at Eddie’s complete turnaround. But Steve knew if anyone had the strength in them to do the same, it was Max Mayfield.

No one was here visiting yet—it was still early by anyone but Steve’s standards. So they took their time talking to her, Eddie giving her the daily update like Steve had done for him. He gave Steve a knowing grin as he said, “We all miss you, Red.”

Steve was too busy looking at his feet in embarrassment, so he didn’t notice Eddie hopping out of his wheelchair at lightning speed.

Then Eddie was in his space again, quicker than Steve had time to even account for. Eddie turned into Steve’s neck and whispered, “Cover for me, Stevie.”

Then he dipped down the hallway and into the stairwell.

Steve fumbled to recover for a minute, wondering what on earth had just happened. He looked to Max’s sleeping face as if maybe she’d know. Steve imagined her usual lazy shrug and his heart ached.

Sure enough, a minute later one of the younger nurses came looking for Eddie with discharge paperwork. Bewildered as he was, Steve could handle this part. He leaned against the door frame next to her and grinned.

“I think he went back to his room for something,” Steve said, before putting on the most convincing show of fake flirting he could muster. It still wasn’t his best—Steve was mostly still thinking of Eddie whispering into his neck and ear—but it worked well enough to distract her. Steve was actually surprised to see her face fall when he brushed her off for Eddie’s return.

Take that, Robin, he thought, picturing her damned tally board. Steve thought this whole endeavor probably warranted a point in the ‘You Rule’ column, but he didn’t care much. He was too busy watching Eddie saunter over to his side with his now-zipped jacket suspiciously full looking, and his grin bright.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand, shall we?”

Steve was too busy caught up in the thrill of Eddie—alive, probably healthy as Steve had ever seen him, laughing breathlessly as they made their escape to Steve’s car—to even ask what he’d been covering for. He wondered if they’d just robbed the hospital pharmacy.

Eddie seemed to wilt a bit once they got outside and the sun peeked out from behind a cloud overhead, hitting him straight in the face.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, ducking back into the shade by the doors. “Didn’t think of that.”

“What?” Steve asked, offering his sunglasses over. Eddie accepted them with a grateful smile, then took a tentative step back into the sunshine.

“It’s nothing,” he said, seeming to relax a little once the sunglasses were on. Steve couldn’t help but notice they looked good on him. “Help me to the car, would you?”

So Steve did, offering Eddie an arm to lean on as they made their way through the parking lot. Steve eyed him carefully, but didn’t ask questions.

Well, at least not until they got into the beemer. That’s when Eddie immediately pulled something out of his jacket—was that donated blood?—then tore into the bag and sucked its contents down like, well, water.

Then Steve had questions. The first of which being a hearty, “The fuck?”

Eddie drained the bag and let his head fall back to rest on the seat, exposing the column of his neck. Steve swallowed, cursing his brain to pay attention to what the hell was happening instead of being a slut for once. Eddie lolled his head to look at Steve and gave him a gleaming, bloody smile.

“So, funny story,” he paused. If Steve had to guess it must’ve been for dramatic effect. “I think I’m a vampire.”

———

Admittedly, the whole vampire revelation made Steve a little anxious in a what-in-the-Vecna-fuckery sort of way, but he didn’t trust Eddie any less over it. Just because he was on the slithering asshole’s radar, Steve didn’t understand why he’d have to worry about Eddie being mind-controlled by Vecna anymore that he did for Max or Will. The whole vampire bit was admittedly a curveball, but so was the rest of Steve’s life at this point.

All the same, Eddie himself had insisted that they give it a few days before letting him around the kids, to be sure. Dustin only gave it twenty-four hours before calling a “family meeting” and inviting everyone over to Steve’s. Steve had not been consulted, but what else was new?

So there he sat, Eddie sandwiched between himself and Robin on his couch, while Mike, Lucas, and Dustin took turns pacing in front of them.

The kids eventually devolved into having a rapid-fire debate about some dude called Kas—who apparently destroyed things? Steve wasn’t sure it really mattered. Dustin kept yelling something about Kas and betrayal, whatever that meant, but Mike was countering with something about evil and alignments. Steve guessed it wasn’t about any dark desires from a chiropractor.

Eddie had finally had enough of their bickering and whistled for them to shut up.

“Look, kiddos. I want a Vecna-free brain just as much as you guys. Well, more than you guys do,” he paused to fiddle with his rings. Steve wondered if they weren’t real silver, or if that was just a myth. Then he realized he’d thought all vampire-related things were myths up until yesterday. He shook himself out of his thoughts as Eddie continued. “If he is secretly hanging out in the ol’ noggin, I can’t tell. But don’t you all keep telling me about a girl with mind-reading abilities? Think she could suss him out?”

The room went silent, blessedly, for maybe one-and-a-half seconds.

“Genius!” Dustin exclaimed.

“Where’s El?" Mike asked Lucas at the same time.

“Will that work?” Lucas questioned over everyone else.

“One at a time, Jesus,” Steve cut in, rubbing his eyes. When he stopped, Eddie was looking at him with some emotion Steve couldn’t quite interpret. He stopped trying and turned back to the kids, who stood there staring at him like they were waiting for assignments. Steve sighed, and pointed at Mike. “You first, Wheeler.”

Mike turned to Lucas. “Was El still at the hospital when you left?”

She spent most of her time with either Hopper or Max these days, so it was a fair assumption.

“She was,” Lucas confirmed. “Is that something you think she can do?”

“Probably,” Mike shrugged.

“Definitely,” Will amended, speaking up for the first time in a while.

And so that’s how Steve ended up going to get El so she could “do a proper seance” on Eddie’s brain, as he’d put it.

“I don’t feel him,” El said about an hour later. “Your mind is strange.”

Robin failed to hide her snickering behind her hand.

“Believe me, kid, I know,” Eddie agreed with a grin.

With everyone more relaxed after that, Eddie regaled the kids with his tale of evading tipping off the nurses to his being awake while he pieced together that he’d woken up not quite…human.

“So I played dead,” Eddie told them and flopped on the floor like a sack of dead weight, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth and everything. Steve watched the hem of Eddie’s shirt ride up just far enough to give him a glimpse of the worst of his scarring. They already seemed to have faded again since the day before. “And hoped like hell I wouldn’t eat anyone before I could figure out how to get down to the blood bank. Then Stevie came to my rescue.” He flashed Steve an exaggerated wink and whisked himself back to his feet as he told everyone how waking up felt.

Eddie apparently had a lot of weird dreams while he was still under, too. When Dustin asked, Eddie explained how most were like watching his body turn cold, like steel—or dreams about blood. He recounted waking up and being overwhelmed by feeling almost everything around him, of being able to hear the heartbeat of the patient in the next room over before the monitor even registered it with a beep.

As an added bonus, Eddie also enjoyed showing off the fangs.

Steve had to work to control his face every time Eddie popped those out. Steve thought the fangs should be freaking him out, but they didn’t in the slightest. To the point where Steve thought maybe there was something wrong with his fight or flight response after one-too-many trips to a different dimension. A normal person would be scared, not inexplicably turned on by the thought of them sinking into the flesh of their neck.

In the interest of not exposing himself as a lovestruck idiot to absolutely everyone in the room—Robin absolutely already knew, based on the looks she’d been shooting him all afternoon—Steve excused himself to the patio for a smoke break. He didn’t usually smoke much anymore, unless he was drinking, largely due to Robin’s incessant nagging about it. But Steve was pretty sure if he had to keep his blossoming crush on his friend the vampire in check, he’d need a lot more nicotine to distract himself.

Except Eddie slid out of the patio door to join him. Steve offered him one from his own pack wordlessly. Eddie accepted with a toothy—but thankfully fang-free—grin.

“Do these do anything for you anymore?” Steve asked, suddenly curious.

“Not really,” Eddie shrugged. “I just wouldn’t know what to do with my hands if I quit. Or for an excuse to leave the room when I’m uncomfortable.”

Steve huffed out a nervous laugh, unsure if that was meant to be Eddie calling him out. Unwilling to really find out, Steve stayed quiet and stared up at the few stars that were starting to show themselves.

“Are you sure you wanna let me drive them home?” Eddie asked after a minute, staring determinedly at his shoes. Steve didn’t know what the hell to make of that question.

“I’m not your mother, Munson,” he tried for a lighter tone.

“True,” Eddie smirked, “but you’re kind of theirs, though.”

Fair, Steve thought. But he still wasn’t sure what Eddie was actually getting at. “What’s this about?”

Eddie sighed and stubbed out his cigarette with a frustrated flourish. “I guess I’m asking if you’re sure you trust me to be around them. By myself. When I’m like…this.”

Steve almost laughed, but managed to hold it in once he saw that Eddie was being serious. He was tucking into himself like a pill bug, like he was expecting the fear and revulsion to finally come rolling off of Steve in waves.

Steve had wondered if it was a delayed reaction on his part, as well, and if eventually he’d be disgusted or freaked out by the whole situation. So far those feelings showed no threat of surfacing, and Steve didn’t really think that they would, either.

Instead, all he felt was relief. He was relieved that Eddie was still alive. Or, well, kind of alive. He never really mastered the logistics of all the vampire movies Robin has made him watch. And really, after all of the Upside Down creatures that had tried to eat them over the years, Eddie seemed positively tame.

Most importantly, he seemed like himself.

So, gently, Steve reached his hand across the empty expanse between them and laid it on Eddie’s forearm. Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet his own.

“I trust you,” Steve said, putting every ounce of sincerity he could muster into the look they shared. Eddie seemed to believe it, because after a moment he deflated, melting back to lean against the house. “And more importantly, so do they,” Steve added, jerking his head back towards the kids inside.

“Your trust is pretty important to me, too, Harrington,” Eddie admitted with an almost shy smile.

Steve sucked whatever he could out of the last dregs of his cigarette and prayed for the strength to survive being a total goner for Eddie Munson.

———

Max seemed to be improving physically, but there were still no signs of her waking up anytime soon. The longer she slept, and the more things deteriorated in town, the more everyone wanted to find Vecna and finish the job.

Soon enough they all coalesced around a plan to end the Upside Down nonsense once and for all. With El and Will back in town, and Eddie’s newfound enhanced abilities of his own, it didn’t take much. Especially once they realized their old friends the demobats were now more inclined to follow Eddie’s lead than “Old Slitherfuck,” as he called Vecna.

One spring night they snuck into the Upside Down one last time and ended things for good. Max woke up in Lucas’s arms the moment Vecna was done and dusted, and El closed the gates for what they all hoped was the final time.

And now? Well. Now everyone was trying to get back to normal. Or as normal as they could be when they had to figure out ways to steal blood for the vampire in their friend group.

So on they went, trying to settle into yet another new set of skin. Eddie was still wary of himself, Steve could tell, but he never withdrew into isolation or tried to convince everyone they were better off without him.

Which was good, because everyone wanted Eddie around that much more.

Dustin wanted nothing more than to test his abilities, and did test whatever Eddie would let him get away with. Robin asked if they could have vampire movie nights, or if Eddie would find that insensitive (he heartily agreed to it). Nancy had a million questions like the good reporter she was, and she and Dustin often piggybacked off each other’s ideas. Mike tended to go between staring at Eddie in awe and wondering if maybe his sexuality was just “people with superpowers.”

Or at least that’s what Steve and Robin assumed when no one else was listening (and Robin wasn’t pointing out Steve’s own crush on a certain vampire).

Steve was just doing his best to cope. He was getting used to the whole “Eddie Munson is now an undead vampire” situation. Really, he was.

Was he sometimes inexplicably a little bit jealous that he apparently didn’t get enough demobat venom to also be turned? Jealous that he wasn’t the one with superhuman strength and outright awe from the kids at his mere existence? If he was, Steve wasn’t willing to admit it out loud. Because he knew where the jealousy was really coming from, and he certainly wasn’t going to admit how attractive he found Eddie’s new set of pearly whites, no matter how many times Robin tried to get him to.

With everyone’s support (and curiosity), it didn’t take very long for Eddie to finally relish his adaptation into an immortal being either. They’d determined that the sun was hard on him—it made him feel sluggish and itchy, “like Kryptonite"—but he didn’t burst into flame under its rays. Usually he just wore sunglasses and carried around an umbrella like an old-timey gentlewoman who didn’t want to accidentally gain a freckle.

Eddie had been a night-owl before, anyway, so nothing much had really changed there either. Silver didn’t hurt him, mirrors still worked on him, and garlic only made him sneeze. No one was willing to check if a wooden stake would do anything, and Eddie seemed as glad of that as Steve was. Other than the commanding an army of bats, invulnerability, and the obvious diet changes, Eddie didn’t seem all that different.

It was driving Steve wild.

The simplest of flirtatious remarks sent him into a tailspin most days. And Eddie was full of flirtatious remarks by default. The more Steve let on that the flirting flustered him, the more elaborate Eddie got with it.

Eddie’s retelling of his and Steve’s escape from the hospital became more embellished, as well. Steve didn’t exactly know what had happened before he’d arrived to visit that morning, but he was pretty sure it didn’t involve a ravenous Eddie hanging upside down from the hospital ceiling to avoid being caught out of bed while he looked for the blood bank, like Eddie claimed.

Once, he was regaling Will and Dustin with his harrowing journey down into the basement on the “hunt for blood,” as he stood on top of the coffee table in Steve’s living room. (Steve did not have it in him to object to this, a bit of a double standard that Robin mocked him mercilessly over.) Steve was only half paying attention—he’d been there, thank you very much, he remembered what actually happened—from the kitchen while dumping a bag of chips into a bowl.

He perked up though when Eddie said, “Steve was pitifully flirting with a nurse for my benefit—“

“Hey!” Steve protested as he made his way back to the living room. He shoved the bowl into Eddie’s chest and flopped on the sofa next to Will. “She was into it.”

“I could tell your heart wasn’t in it, sweetheart,” Eddie said, and shot Steve a wink. It was so simple, barely even a blip on anyone else's radar, but it had Steve feeling heated through.

Steve tried not to melt into the floor as Will gave him a sideways glance. He did his best to ignore it. The last thing he needed was for someone other than Robin to needle him about his ridiculous behavior.

That particular desire was quickly snuffed out by one Dustin Henderson, though.

———

One day in May, Dustin cornered Steve on their way out of the Henderson house.

“Do you have a problem with Eddie?” Dustin asked him, point blank in his hallway. Steve was suddenly very grateful that Claudia was not at home at the moment.

“No?” Steve couldn’t help but let it become a question. Dustin narrowed his eyes.

“Well, it seems like you do. All you ever do is stare at him, you barely talk, you act like you’re going to jump out of your skin if he even looks at you. Are you afraid of him or something?” Dustin’s face softened, like he was trying not to be quite as harsh as usual. There was still a fierceness there, though, that Steve knew was just born of protectiveness over Eddie.

“No,” Steve replied without hesitation. “Even though you might think that’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to have to our friend the newborn vampire, I’m not afraid of him.”

“Well that’s just it!” Dustin half-yelled, throwing his hands in the air. He just barely missed clipping Steve’s nose. “He’s our friend, but you’re back to treating him like some kind of freak. So if you’re not afraid of him, I’d like to know why you’re being a dick.”

Steve flinched. Dustin wasn’t outright saying it, but he got the implication all the same; you’re acting like King Steve again.

He so violently wanted to reject the accusation that he considered telling Dustin the truth.

It wasn’t like Dustin didn’t accept queer people. He knew about Robin now—thank god—and practically mooned over her for weeks with how cool he found it. Steve was pretty sure Dustin wouldn’t react any differently to finding out he was also a member of the fruit basket, as Robin had dubbed them.

Steve took in the sheer disappointment on Dustin’s face and sighed. He retreated into the living room and plopped on the couch, restlessly running his hands through his hair. Tews came up to him and rubbed her cheek against his pant leg. He gratefully scratched her ears.

Steve knew if he just admitted to the jealousy, Dustin would feel better, but wouldn’t entirely lose that kicked-puppy look. ‘I just want my dads to get along,’ he’d taken to whining whenever he felt like Steve and Eddie weren’t bonding to his specifications. Steve tried not to spontaneously combust each time any of the kids referred to him and Eddie as such.

Fuck it, Steve thought. He knew Dustin would latch on to his confession like Dart with a Three Musketeers, and Steve dreaded the conclusions he’d jump to. But he couldn’t stand to disappoint the kid. He took a deep breath in as Dustin sat beside him. For once, he’d kept his mouth shut instead of berating Steve into submission. He waited patiently, quiet.

“I’m not afraid of him,” Steve said again. “I don’t think he’s a freak. I’m not turning back into King Steve.” He gave Dustin a pained look, who had the grace to look a bit sheepish in response. “I like him, okay?”

“You don’t seem like you—“

“No, Dust,” Steve interrupted. He held Dustin’s gaze this time, hoping he’d connect the dots without too much explanation on Steve’s part. “I like him. I stare and barely talk and tense up because he makes me nervous. But in the butterflies in your stomach kind of way, not the oh god he’s going to kill us all in our sleep kind of way.”

Dustin stayed silent, but his eyes were wide as saucers. Steve wondered if he should give himself a pat on the back for rendering Dustin Henderson speechless for possibly the first time ever.

“You okay?” Steve asked instead, picking at his pant leg. Steve was nearly certain Dustin wouldn’t care that he was bisexual, sure. But he couldn’t help but worry that Dustin still wouldn’t approve—that Steve wouldn’t be good enough, not for Eddie, not in Dustin’s eyes.

Dustin had a knack for surprising Steve, though.

“This is amazing,” he said, eyes practically fucking sparkling with delight.

[PART TWO]

[michellemisfit]

hiii michelle, i hope you're having the best start to the week! if you wanna play-

list five things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last ten people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity!! 🍏🌾

Good morning my lovely stud muffin! 🥰

Life has been a lot lately, which is also why I’ve failed to take part in any tag games and other dashboard fun. But heck yeah, let’s start the day with some positivity! Here goes nothing..

1. In 3 weeks exactly I will be on a plane to Cape Cod!! I haven’t been in absolutely forever as we were due to attend a wedding in America in March 2020, and well, we all know how that ended… I cannot wait to do all the swimming and eat all the ice cream and fish and fresh corn and drink Mike’s Hard Lemonade and say hello to a billion wild turkeys and the occasional humming bird. Oh yeah!

2. I shot Longbow for the first time ever yesterday, and passed my assessment straight away. Get me! I can now independently shoot Longbow, Barebow, Recurve, and Korean bow on the range. If the apocalypse comes, DO beep me. I’ll be super useful!!

3. Our living room ceiling fell down a week ago, and the builder we had booked to come and fix it over the weekend no showed and didn’t answer his phone however much we tried texting and calling. That’s not happy making. What is happy making however is that he’s just got back in touch and apparently he’s dropping materials off today and hopefully fixing it Wednesday. Still fucked off with him, but man, I just want my living room back!!!

4. I commissioned some chibis of Ruth and myself and I’ve just had the final drafts sent through and they are cute AF.

5. I just thought of what to do for @gallacrafts this month and it’s the dumbest most unnecessary most labour intensive thing that no one’s really gonna know what to do with because wtf? And it makes me really happy!! Hahahaha Love shit like that!

[soundwavemain]

We've Still Got Hope

Chapter 9: Rest Easy

Casey Jones never had soft hands. At least, Junior didn’t think so. She always gave him her hand to hold whenever he needed an anchor. During his first checkup, whenever he woke up from a nightmare–she was there to lend comfort. He found solace in tracing the lines of her palms, a curve here, two there. She had a patch of rough skin on her index finger–a callus from flipping weapons back and forth–that Junior would always touch.

“That’s what happens when you’re a great ninja like me,” she told him one night when he was young. He barely reached her knee but he knew he wanted to be just like her.

Now, he was seven and he didn’t know if he’d ever be as good as her. His family always said he was his mother’s kid–rambunctious, never keeping still. He watched her lead them down an abandoned sewer tunnel, her head held high despite the fact they were below ground in unfamiliar territory. Could he be that brave? A reliable face in the apocalypse?

The one time he tried to do something to protect his family–

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The sewer tunnels still had water in them despite no one using the sewage system for a little over a decade now. It was stagnant and it didn’t smell particularly good but no one else seemed to be bothered by it so Junior tried his best to ignore it.

There were three knuckles to a finger, two for the thumb. The wrist had eight bones. He dragged his thumb across her pulsepoint and tried to remember the names. Donnie had explained it to him once. He struggled to pull the information from the recesses of his mind.

Right, right, left, straight–

Casey seemed to know where they were going. Every so often she’d turn and whisper to April about something. Donnie was starting to wake up. His voice, deep from sleep, bounced against the walls. He reached over April’s shoulder to snatch his tech brace, sliding it back onto his forearm. The screen lit up his face, dimmed, then brightened again.

Beep.

Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Junior kept his head down, pressing closer and closer to his mother’s side as they reached an abnormal section of the sewers. It seemed like a place where stormwater drained since it opened up wide above them. The walls were cracked, fallen debris blocking off several paths but there seemed to be evidence of people living here. Light filtered through grates, the sudden change hurting his eyes. He blinked once, then twice to make sure he was seeing correctly.

Floating about was Mikey like he hadn’t a care in the world. He had his arms out, hands ringed by orange light as he grunted with the force of moving a pile of rocks. He flung them to the other side of the pipe like they weighed next to nothing. When he turned around, the only indication that he was surprised by the others was a slight exhale that seemed to echo in the silence. Then he smiled, a wide grin wrinkled his cheeks, and he floated forward.

“You guys made it.” He spoke softly, unlike his normal boisterous personality, but his eyes still sparkled with mirth. He reached out for a hug and Junior found himself stumbling forward as a great need to embrace his uncle possessed him. Mikey swept him up into his arms easily and it felt like coming home. Junior tucked his face against his uncle’s neck, curling inward as Mikey continued. “I was worried when you called for a portal.” He shifted his nephew so he was tucked against his elbow.

“The kraang found us,” Casey answered. She didn’t bother whispering. Junior curled further into a ball. “Are you sure we’re safe here?”

“Donald?”

Donnie hummed. Two soft taps came from behind as the softshell turtle finally slid off April’s back. “There should be enough asphalt, concrete, and dirt to block whatever it is they’re using to track us. For now,” he paused to yawn, “I wanna work on security.”

“Fine but the rest of you are going straight to bed,” Mikey ordered. “I’ve been clearing the rooms since I got here.”

“Where is here, exactly?” Casey asked, next to them.

“Surprised you don’t recognize it, Jones.” There was a grunt, then a slap and a yowl. “Ouch. Okay. Still not touchy-feely, I get it. This is our old lair.”

Junior peeked out to see Leo staring at the crumbling walls, his gaze filled with a sort of yearning not unlike his own. A desire to go home only to know it was simply impossible.

“I thought Shredder destroyed this place.”

Mikey laughed. The vibrations tickled Junior’s side. He leaned into the feeling, pressing his hand against his uncle’s plastron. “I teleported to the safest place I could. My mystic hands thought that was here, apparently. Now, go. Shoo! I know you three haven’t slept. Donnie’s the only one smart enough to listen to his body.” There was a cacophonous grumbling as Leo, Casey, and April were sent away by the second youngest person in the room. When they finally left, Mikey looked down at Junior, his gaze impossibly gentle. “What about you, little warrior?”

If he was being honest, Junior hadn’t slept well all week. His eyes stung and his head pounded from exhaustion. But he knew that if he tried to rest now–

Two yellow eyes, glowing like lanterns as a dangerously melodic hum filled the air.

“Can I stay out here?” he squeaked.

“Course,” Mikey answered immediately, though his gaze seemed to burn into the back of Junior’s head. “Wanna talk about it?”

And wasn’t that just the million dollar question? Did Junior want to talk about it? The grief and anger and defeat that festered inside him told him, No, he didn’t need to say anything. Another part of him, the part that wanted desperately to hold onto his family, told him that he simply needed to be their hope.

A quiet chirp brought Junior back to the conversation at hand. His uncle knocked their heads together gently, the wisps of his hair tickling Junior’s face. “It’s okay,” Mikey soothed. “If you’re not feeling well, that’s okay.”

Not feeling well was what they used to say when Junior was a toddler. When his heart couldn’t keep up with all he needed it to. When he couldn’t explain how he was feeling other than a quiet exhale and an even quieter, “Hurts.”

It made Junior feel small. He looked down at his hands. They’d been soft for as long as he could remember. Even the scrapes that roughed up his palms had healed, peeling away to reveal fresh skin. The pink skin mocked him–a reminder that he was different. That no one else was like him. He’d made peace with the fact that he shared no physical attributes with his aunt or uncles–hell, his father– He knew since he was young. Yet, it didn’t stop the horrible pit in his stomach at the reminder that even his mother looked nothing like him.

Then there was the scaly texture of Mikey’s fingers pressing against his forehead. “Dr. Feelings can’t help you, little warrior.” His uncle’s smile seemed to brighten the whole room. “Not unless you start talking.” Mikey offered his hand, palm up.

Pale green cracks went from his fingertips to his wrists. Junior found himself tracing them before he could think to hold back. They didn’t feel any different than the surrounding skin.

“I got these from saving Raph,” Mikey answered the question plaguing his nephew’s thoughts. “This happened way before you were in the picture.” He shifted his arm to show how the lines centered around the pulsepoint on his wrist. “Mystic powers require a balance of cosmic energy. For every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction,” he said, brow set in a firm line. Then he relaxed, smiling again. “That’s what Don’d say, anyway.” Mikey closed his eyes and it was suddenly so apparent to Junior how old his uncle was.

The box turtle was the youngest adult in their group. The wrinkles that creased his brow and chin, however, told a different story. They spoke of an undying worry that followed the mystic warrior for the past sixteen years. Perhaps even longer.

Together, they leaned against the wall, Mikey curling a protective arm around his nephew. “It was a rescue mission gone wrong,” he explained. “A labor camp the kraang rigged to blow. They wanted us gone. Barry and Raph were in there, in two wings of the building. Barry went to try dismantling the bomb. Raph went to rescue the humans.” His eyes grew misty as he stared at his hands. “Barry taught me everything he knew about mystic powers. Said I had a knack for it. But there was only so much I could do–can do. I had a choice to make.”

He hummed, rocking his nephew side to side. Junior looked up at Mikey. His gaze appeared distant, like he wasn’t fully in the present. “Between Barry and Dad?”

“Between my brother and my creator. My dad.” Mikey paused in his movements. “I already lost one.”

Junior’s heart pulsed, a sharp, visceral pain he knew his uncle must’ve felt. “You were gonna lose another?”

“Well,” Mikey hummed. “It’s a simple answer to a simple question. Raph was with at least a hundred people in need of rescue. You kill the one to save the many.”

“But…” The words stuck in Junior’s throat. He pushed onward. “But it hurt.”

At first, his uncle said nothing. The distant sounds that marked Donnie’s work in another room barely filled the silence. Then, when he finally spoke up, Mikey’s voice had a rasp to it. “Of course,” he whispered. “Of course, it hurt but I knew that if I did nothing, it would be worse. Because of my decision, a hundred people were saved. My brother got to live to see his kid.” Mikey cupped his nephew’s cheek, his smiling face filling Junior’s vision. “If there’s anything that this stupid apocalypse has taught me, it’s that you can’t go around regretting your decisions. It’ll eat you alive. You have to see what is on the horizon and keep moving forward. These,” he gestured to the marks on his hand, “are a reminder of the lives I saved, of the pride Barry must’ve felt teaching me to be a hero. I’ll carry that with me for the rest of my life.”

Junior stared at his hands. “Isn’t it heavy?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” Mikey answered honestly. “But your family can help if you let them.”

Raph came to mind–Junior’s thoughts tended to drift there ever since–his face downturned, voice cracking as he reassured his son that he was going to save him. That moment seemed to replay in Junior’s head on repeat, his vision always fading away with the final words he told his father.

“I’m sorry.”

Why had he apologized then? Had he truly given up so quickly? His family didn’t raise a quitter. How come he’d been ready to die then? He should’ve fought harder, worked harder, tried with more urgency to convince his father to leave in the first place. Instead, he–

“I wish he was here,” Junior finally said, his throat tightening at the mere idea.

“That’s normal,” Mikey assured him, hugging him closer. “Loss makes us yearn for things. You miss his hugs, don’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

His uncle hummed. “Raph gives the best hugs. Big, strong arms, he has the perfect grip. It’s natural for you to want something that reminds you of him.”

But he wasn’t here.

Junior curled into a ball. He wished he was like his uncles–able to hide inside their shells. Mikey separated from the wall, his nephew still in his arms. Together, they floated along. Junior kept his face tucked away until Mikey poked him. He shook his head, burrowing further against his uncle’s plastron. He was surprised when Mikey set him down in what must have been the softest cot he’d ever felt. That wasn’t even the most surprising thing about the cot–it smelled just like Raph. Junior reached out to inspect the bedding and was met with something cold and hard. He sat up, curious.

A tall, green figure met his gaze. It was surrounded by balls of fluff shaped like animals Mikey had taught him about. Junior reached for its face. He shivered as his warm palm met the cool metal of the plate armor. The spikes, the red accents–it was Raph. Or, at least, a robot version of him. Junior knew it wasn’t his father. His dad would’ve felt him crawling on him, would’ve awakened instantly and scooped him up. This direct copy was one step removed from the Hamato Raphael.

It wasn’t real, he told himself. This wasn’t his father.

He crawled into the robot’s lap, the arms curved to rest on its knees. Junior shivered at the difference in temperature. He snatched a fluffball from the pile–a giant penguin about his height–and hugged it. He curled into a ball, pressing against an arm as he closed his eyes.

“Dad,” he spoke softly, “I’m gonna nap here with you, if you don’t mind.”

No response.

Not that Junior expected one.

...

The world filled out slowly around Junior. His eyelids peeled apart to stare at the metal in front of him. He had slept peacefully for the first time in weeks, a dreamless rest that he welcomed with open arms. Crawling off the robot, Junior stood and stretched, the penguin still in his grasp. He turned to stare at the armor made in his father’s image.

“You made a choice,” he whispered, “didn’t you?”

Raph stared back at him, face blank.

“Between you and me.” He hugged the penguin close to his chest. “It hurts,” he finally admitted aloud, his cheeks becoming wet. “But I’m happy.” His voice choked on the word, as if even his body couldn’t accept the idea. “I’m trying to be happy,” he immediately corrected, “for you. Because you wanted me to live and be with our family. Because you fought for me.” The penguin’s downy coat matted from his tears. “I won’t stop feeling sorry that you’re not here instead of me, that I lived and you didn’t, but I’m not going to regret your decision. Or mine.”

Junior turned toward the entrance of the room. It was a red curtain that surely didn’t keep any sounds outside from seeping in. He paused. Once he left this room, he didn’t think he could return. It wouldn’t be good to reopen the wound. He looked back at the robot. It seemed almost peaceful.

“I’m gonna take one of your friends,” he called out. “Hope you don’t mind. I love you, Dad.” There wouldn’t be a response, he made his peace with that. He didn’t need one. He knew his father loved him.

He walked through the unfamiliar halls, following the sounds of his family talking. They were easy to find. Their voices weren’t hushed at all and they seemed to ricochet in the empty rooms. He found them gathered around a table with a map on it. They seemed to be discussing something. From the deep crease in Leo’s forehead and the firm line of Donnie’s brow, it must’ve been serious. They trailed off the moment they noticed Junior standing at the entrance.

Mikey smiled. “Wanna join us, little warrior?”

Junior observed his family. They were like open books to him. Reading their body language was second nature to him. They wanted him there with them.

He took a step forward.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[courier-nix]

2/3/7/11/52 for fallout oc asks?? 👀

Coming right up!!!

Super excited someone asked for some!!! Some Dead Money spoilers ahead but not much. Okay so here they are:

2. Which faction(s) did they join and which did they destroy? Why?

So far Nix has joined the Kings and the Followers of the Apocalypse. She loves everything they stand for and wants more people to receive the aid and safety they offer. She also has a growing soft spot for the King that helps. Although she's the NCR's favorite task girl, she was originally going to support Mr. House until she got pulled to the Sierra Madre. Now, she's an independent New Vegas believer, after seeing what rich "well intentioned" men who only care about what they want can do to the world. (She also would not be able to bring herself to kill the BOS despite the fact she doesn't really like them.) She refuses to join the BOS after what happened to Veronica. Nix loves the Boomers and is untrusting of the Strip families and the Great Khans, but can play them like the fiddle when she wants. She hates the Legion and plans to wipe them out with Boone.

3. What is their S.P.E.C.I.A.L.?

S 5

P 6

E 5

C 7

I 7

A 6

L 5

She got the strength implant from Usanagi so she had an easier time holding heavy guns.

7. Do they have any mental illnesses? How do they cope?

The two main things is PTSD and anxiety. For PTSD, it can vary from hearing an alarm go off and she thinks it's her bomb collar, to she gets flash backs to the terrible things she's done that she feels guilty about. Nix's anxiety mostly manifests through abandonment issues and being alone. She doesn't quite understand why she's that way since the shots to the head made her lose a good chunk of memory, but she does know her grandma had to raise her because her parents couldn't. She is an anxious attachment person who MUST be friends with everyone and MUST be liked by everyone otherwise she feels like shit. She's strongly affected by guilt and anxiety.

So this ties in strongly with The Hollow Men by TS Eliot, whose line I stole for the title of my fanfic featuring Nix (Not with a Bang). The poem discusses people affected by war who know that they are broken and lost souls but are unable to do actions to better themselves or the world. Nix is constantly trying not to be a hollow man and is trying to make sure her companions don't end up like one too (especially Boone). But that hollow feeling is persistent and a battle on its own she has to deal with.

The last thing I'll mention is she does get violent outbursts but they're few and far between and they cause her immense guilt and shame after. She doesn't know if she's always been that way or if the shot to the head caused it, which makes her more upset.

11. Their biggest flaw? Do they recognize it as a flaw?

Nix's biggest flaw is self-doubt and indecisiveness. When there is a clear right and wrong answer in Nix's mind, she knows what to pick. Morally grey areas tend to make her indecisive because "what if so-and-so no longer likes me because of this? What if I can't lead like I'm supposed to? Will this cause more harm than good?" Etc. She knows that it's a flaw, but as of now, she doesn't know what to do about it.

The Sierra Madre changes that!!!

She becomes a bit more hardened and decisive after she sees herself doing everything right, but still ending up with Dean dead. (She honestly thought everything went great with him and didn't realize how fragile his ego was.) She learns who she wants to back in the next Battle of the Hoover Dam. At this point, I haven't planned the next arch of her story much, but she does end up more violent and those violent outbursts more common.

52. Are they good at disarming traps or do they constantly miss them?

Oh, she sucked with traps at first. She wouldn't even see them. She'd hear beeping, look for the source, and then get launched. Bear traps were the only ones she could normally notice. Trip wires and landmines she would tend to overlook. Once she got to the Sierra Madre, she started to slow down and pay attention, especially since so many other people needed her to survive. By the time she got into the casino, Nix was a pro at disarming or stepping around traps (some may say she had a light step now lol).

Here's a quick doodle of Nix getting launched and Lily rushing to catch her since you made it all the way through!!!

[malum-forev]

Game On: Chapter Three

Chapter Two

Thanksgiving break came and went, (Y/N) spent the weekend at Natasha’s childhood home upstate. Although (Y/N)’s family missed her, they understood that traveling at this time of year was crazy and most importantly, her classes were extremely demanding. This was also the excuse she gave the Romanoff family when they asked her why she was going back to campus on Saturday instead of Sunday.  

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here? C’mon it’s just one more day.” Natasha asked her roommate.

“I really appreciate it but you know I have to get a ton of homework done. I really can’t afford to miss anymore assignments.” (Y/N) smiled as she closed her bag. 

With a swift goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Romanoff and Natasha’s younger sister, she traveled to the train station. After a quick two-and-a-half-hour ride, she had arrived at her apartment. Although she did have a lot of work to do, the real reason (Y/N) left her roommate’s home was  because she wanted some time to herself. More importantly, some time to bake. During the school year their house was a complete disaster, three women living under one roof. So, these little moments she had all to herself always made her want to bake.

After about thirty minutes of prep time, the pie was ready to be put in the oven. There was only one tiny problem, the oven hadn’t preheated. In fact, the oven hadn’t even turned on. 

“Are you serious?” She huffed, immediately calling Wanda. 

“Heeey, merry thanksgiving!” answered an overly happy Wanda.

“Hey Wanda.” (Y/N) smiled. “Are you drunk?”

“Maybe a little, but its only because my brother makes the cider extra spiked.” She hiccupped. “What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you ever called the landlord about the oven not working.” (Y/N) asked, hoping that she had and a simple solution could be found.

“Nope.” Laughed the redhead.

“Okay, thanks anyways.” She said defeated. 

“But! Last time I needed the oven, I just popped over to Steve’s apartment. He said we could use it until we got ours fixed. He even gave me a spare key.” Wanda said. 

(Y/N) thanked her, grabbed the key, and quickly walked to Steve’s apartment. Thankfully it was just a few blocks away. As she arrived and opened the door (Y/N) was taken aback. She wasn’t expecting what she saw. Especially not from a boy’s college apartment. They had all the furniture and even decorations. (Y/N) was expecting something that looked like an abandoned mall after a zombie apocalypse or a run-down Ikea outlet. She turned on the oven to start preheating and only after that did she start to meddle. She looked over the photo gallery Steve had on the living room wall. It was filled with pictures of him, his family and Bucky. She hovered over an image of Bucky, he couldn’t have been more than 5, holding a soccer ball in his hands and smiling showing all of his teeth except for the two big ones that were missing. 

“My Ma just sent over that picture.” (Y/N) heard from behind her, she let out a scream and turned around, placing her hand on her chest.

“Oh, My God!” She gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Bucky laughed and ran a hand over his wet hair. This was the first time she noticed he only had a towel wrapped on his waist. “I think I should be asking you that. What are you doing in my apartment?”

“Oh, I- Wanda- I just-“ (Y/N) tried to say but her thoughts were getting jumbled up in her brain as she noticed Bucky’s body for the first time. Her eyes traveled from his biceps to his abs and downward until- until she realized what she was doing and turned around. “Could you please put on some clothes?”

He let out a laugh as he saw (Y/N) fidgeting with her back towards him. He gave two steps forward and whispered in her ear. “Is this why you came here? To catch me with my clothes off?”

“Oh please!” She huffed. “I just came here because our oven isn’t working and Steve told Wanda that we could come over and use it and-“ She was interrupted by the oven beeping.

Bucky smiled and turned around. “I’ll go put some clothes on, if that’s what you want Doll.”

“And I’ll go put the pie in the oven.” (Y/N) mumbled as she rushed to the kitchen. After getting everything ready, she decided to look for something to calm her nerves and spotted from the corner of her eye the bar cart. “Bingo.”

(Y/N) was just about to pour herself some vodka on the rocks when she heard Bucky say: “I think I have something more festive than that.”

She turned around to see Bucky, clothed and perfumed, holding two bottles of eggnog. Forty minutes and a whole lot of eggnog later, they were eating pie. 

“This has got to be the best apple pie I have ever had in my life.” Bucky tried to get out, with a mouthful of apples. “Thank god you made apple instead of pumpkin.”

“Are you kidding? I hate pumpkin pie.” (Y/N) mumbled as she finished what was left in her cup and motioned for Bucky to pour her another one. 

“I actually think that is the first thing we agree on.” He chuckled. 

She cleared her throat and raised her glass. “And I want to make a toast. To the first night we spend together where I don’t want to scoop your eyes out with a melon baller.”

Bucky followed her lead. “Does that mean you’re going to spend the night?”

“And the pleasant moment has ended.” She rolled her eyes and sipped on her drink. 

“You know I’m kidding.” He shot her a smile, took her hand in his and placed a kiss on it.

“You looked cuter when you didn’t have your front teeth.” (Y/N) laughed pointing at the picture. She looked into his eyes and moved a strand of hair that had fallen out of place out of the way. “Sometimes I do really wish we could be friends.”

“I would love if we could be friends. (Y/N) you know I follow you everywhere because I want to be close to you. Let me in there.” Bucky pointed towards her heart. “I’m a pretty nice guy once you get to know me.”

“That’s the problem James.” She sighed, resting her back on the chair and closing her eyes. (Y/N) noticed that the eggnog had started to make her feel dizzy. “I already know you. And I know I can’t trust you.” 

“Tell me one time I have made you believe you couldn’t trust me.” Bucky said, pulling his chair closer to her. 

(Y/N) laughed and stood up, trying to keep her balance. “That’s the problem. You don’t even remember. In fact, that’s your problem” she pointed her finger at him. “You just walk all over people and you don’t have a care in the world.”

Bucky looked down at the floor. “Look I think you’re drunk. Why don’t you stay in my room and I’ll stay in Steve’s. It’s getting pretty late and-“

“And what Bucky.” She laughed again. “You want me to go to your room and maybe something will happen between us?”

“No- I would never want anything like that. I mean not if you’re drunk.” Bucky stuttered.

“Let’s get something clear. I will never want anything to do with you. Not friends, not anything. You’re a narcissist, you’re such a-“

Bucky scoffed and got up from his chair. “You were seriously saying that I was ruining the night? You don’t even know me and you’re saying all this shit.”

“You think I don’t know you?” She rolled her eyes.

“You haven’t even given me a chance!” Bucky objected.

“Oh trust me, I know you. You showed your true colors pretty fast.” 

“I can’t believe you. You’re so focused on what you think that you believe no one else can be right!” Bucky hissed. “You think you’re so above everyone. Well you’re not!”

“Well maybe I’m not above everyone but I am above you and your fucked up moral compass.” (Y/N) boomed.

“You- You’re such a-“ Bucky came closer to her.

“I’m such a what, tell me.” (Y/n) taunted. 

“You’re not worth this.” Bucky stepped back. “You know what, I’m done. I’m done trying to understand why you hate me so much.”

“If you only knew.” She growled.

“That’s exactly the problem. But you know what, if you don’t want to tell me or if you don’t want us to be friends that’s fine. Just know that every single day you will regret this decision. You’ve brought me to my breaking point and if you think I was a load when I was trying to be nice, wait till you see the pain in the ass I can become once I’ve put my head into it.” Bucky snapped and saw her shocked expression. “You can stay in Steve’s room tonight if you want but just know that starting tomorrow I will become your biggest inconvenience.”

With that, Bucky stormed to his room and slammed the door. For (Y/N), it was one of those moments when you realize just how drunk you were. She stumbled to Steve’s room and closed the door. She barely managed two steps before falling on the bed. 

The dream started like usual, thumping music and inaudible chatter and the start of the worst night of (Y/N)’s freshmen year.

(Y/N) texted her new friend, Becca. Asking her if the address was correct. She was standing in front of a frat house dressed in her 80’s costume that featured teased hair, legwarmers, and some heels. (Y/N) really wanted to join their sorority so she wanted to make a great first impression. The door soon opened to show Becca and all of the other sorority sisters dressed normally. They didn’t hesitate to start laughing at her. 

“You seriously thought this was an 80’s themed costume party?” One of them laughed. (Y/N) looked down at the floor. 

“C’mon cheer up.” An obviously drunk sorority girl pushed a cup towards her. She stumbled and spilled the drink on (Y/N)’s shirt. 

“Oops.” Becca laughed. “Hey girls let’s let our new friend in.”

All of them kept laughing and started to filter out. Just as (Y/N) was about to leave she heard someone calling for her.

“Hey! You!” She turned around to meet someone’s blue eyes.

“Yeah?” She asked defeatedly.

“Are you okay?” He asked, coming closer to her.

“Yeah I was actually just heading out.” She said.

“Look those girls can be real mean sometimes. If you want to stay I have some clothes you can change into to look a little less, um, studio 54.” He chuckled.

“Studio 54 is actually 70’s look and I’m dressed like the 80’s.” She said with a smile.

“You want my help or not?” He asked and she quickly nodded.

“Look, I’m not actually in the frat house but my friend lets me keep some clothes in here. You can go up to the second room to the left. You’ll find some clothes there.” He smiled and led her into the house. “And don’t worry, I’ll give you the guide to who’s a nice person and who’s not. I’ll protect you.”

(Y/N) was sure his smile could light up the whole room. She nodded again and went up the stairs, listening to her heels click on the hardwood floor.

“I’ll be right there.” He assured. 

She entered the room and started looking around for the clothes. It wasn’t soon after when she heard the door open and close.

“Hey, I couldn’t find the clothe-“ she was interrupted by the man that was in the room.

“Well Bucky said that he left a girl in my room but I don’t know what I did to deserve this surprise.” The guy slurred, trying to keep his balance and the contents of his drink in his red solo cup. 

“I think you’re mistaken. He said that I could come in and change.” She replied feeling uncomfortable.

“Yeah, you can change into something more comfortable.” He said, trying to unbutton his shirt.

“I’m going to leave.” (Y/N) said moving towards the door but the guy grabbed her by the arm.

“C’mon, don’t you want to have a good time?” He said before she pushed him as hard as she could.

She ran out the door. “I’ll tell Buck you’re as much as a prude as you look, you bitch!” He yelled.

(Y/N)’s breath started hitching and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Thankfully this time, she woke up.

Chapter Four

[syllvane]

muscle memory- sylvie x reader

a/n: this hasn’t been beta read at all, i just have a lot of feelings!!! spoilers for episode 3 of loki

read the next part      read the series

She didn’t think that seeing you again would hurt so much.

Of course she didn’t- even though she was well aware that Variants captured by the TVA lost all traces of their past selves, she thought it would be different for you.

Thought that maybe you loved her enough to break through whatever conditioning they had enforced on you.

And still, even though all traces of the person who she loved is gone, she still can’t quite bring herself to kill you.

“I don’t want to do this the hard way, Variant.” You said, although there was no real emotion behind your voice. No real anything, just the training they had instilled.

And still, she can’t help but find herself hoping.

“Hunter C-7, right?” She asked, her voice steady.

“How do you know-”

“I know everything, my love. I’m afraid you’re the one who is in the dark.”

“Then unmask yourself. Show me who you are.” You said, your voice wavering slightly.

You couldn’t help but wonder why the Variant had kept its hood on for so long- was it simply a matter of pride or was it to keep their identity hidden.

The Variant wavered for a second and you knew that you should’ve moved to strike, should’ve used the moment of weakness from the Variant to strike and yet, your curiosity trumps your sense of duty, if only for a couple minutes.

You do your best not to gape when the Variant lowers her hood.

You are memorized by her appearance and she seems to be equally as memorized by yours and you get the strangest sense that you’ve seen her before, but that couldn’t be possible- right?

“You remember me.” She said simply and you shake your head despite every other muscle in your body screaming otherwise.

She took a couple steps forward until she was close enough to be reset and you can’t find it in yourself to do so.

You stand there paralyzed and without any rhyme or reason, you find yourself lifting your hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

She flinched at the sudden contact at first, but she didn’t move to stop you- only inhaling quickly.

Gods, you’ve missed her so much.

You don’t know where the thought comes from, don’t even know why your hand seems to fit so perfectly cupped against her cheek.

She is supposed to be your mortal enemy and you feel as if you have found your soulmate for the first time in a hundred years.

“You remember me,” She said again, although there are tears in her eyes this time.

Your TemPad started beeping and you took a couple steps back from her, looking at the TemPad.

“You have to go.” You told her and she shook her head, trying to close the distance again.

“Not without you, not again.”

“I don’t… I remember nothing. Only that I love you so much and that nothing matters to me more than your safety. You have to go.”

“You will forget again. They will rip everything that you feel for me out of your body again. Come with me.”

“Where would we go?” Sylvie doesn’t answer. “They could make me forget. But I will see you again and I will fall in love with you all over again. My mind may not remember loving you, but my body will.”

Sylvie put her hood back up and a time portal opened up behind your back, a couple hunters pouring out and before they could even process the figure in front of them, Sylvie disappeared.

And she is holed up again in the Roxxcart, crying, because you’re right.

Because the only time the two of you can love each other is when nobody will be around to survive it, when the world is ending all around you.

You deserve better than a life of jumping from apocalypse to apocalypse, trying to carve out a small place in space and time for you and the woman you love.

And so, the TVA agents drag you back to headquarters, hysterical, and the Timekeepers suggest reconditioning, again.

By the time Sylvie strikes again, you will have forgotten all about her.

(You deserve better than a life of jumping from apocalypse to apocalypse, but hey- Sylvie would take any life with you she could get.)

[giftedeath]

@ashesrebirthed / tears of the kingdom starters ; ❝ what’s with that look ? you don’t think i can do it ? ❞

❛   well,  …  what  were  you  expecting  ?  me  to  break  out  into  a  cheer  for  you,  dust  off  the  pom  -  poms  while  you  give  it  a  go  ?  ❜   but  even  the  eye  -  roll  that  follows  feels  childish.  it’s  a  point  of  contention  within  herself,  suddenly  being  around  cordelia  after  an  entire  year  . . .  buffy  thinks  it  might  be  bringing  out  the  WORST  in  her.  the  realization  causes  her  to  soften,  backtracking.  ❛   𝒊  𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏  . . . 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔  𝒊𝒔  𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕  𝒎𝒚  𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆.  ❜   and  buffy  forces  a  smile  instead.  ❛   i’m  sure  you  can  do  it,  here,  ❜  she  hands  the  shuriken  over,  careful  as  she  does  so.  ❛   just  y’know  …  be  careful.  i  don’t  know  what  you  and  angel  accomplished  within  the  last  year,  i’d  really  just  love  to  have  all  of  my  limbs  at  the  end  of  this.  ❜

[slaeg1rl]

@crownedhopelesss asked: Kill you? Why would I kill you when I can live off you for a month? / from angelus

"Only   a   month?   Way   to   butter   up   a   girl.   No   wonder   Darla   walked   off   if   you   said   things   like   that."   The   devil   wears   a   handsome   face.   And   she   will   be   damned,   it's   the   face   of   a   man   she   will   always   love.   Angelus   smiles   in   all   of   his   wicked   glory   and   all   she   sees   for   a   second   is   her   Angel.   Angel   who   would   hold   her   and   kiss   her   until   she   forgot   how   to   breathe.

  Angelus   was   the   devil   in   their   shoulder,   the   shadow   that   remind   her   that   they   can   never   be   together.   "Hard   to   think   a   big   guy   like   yourself   could   resist   me   for   a   month."   Slayer   blood,   like   a   boost   of   energy,   or   so   she   been   told,   there   is   magic   and   power   through   her   blood   and   they   all   want   to   choke   on   it.   And   she   will   let   them   as   long   as   they   die.   "I   would   rather   die   than   let   you   drink   from   me.   Ever."

[insufferablemonsters]

❛  i can buy you some time. go, now!  ❜ (for buffy)

❛ sacrifices sentence starters. ➝ accepting.

if  there  was  one  thing  buffy  would  never  do  is  leave  her  friends  behind  in  a  ferocious  battle.  this  demon  was  strong,  gigantic,  and  even  clever,  which  threw  buffy  off  a  little.  most  of  the  time,  the  muscly  ones  were  the  dumb  ones,  but  apparently  not  this  one.  it  seemed  to  be  a  step  ahead  of  their  every  move,  and  it  threw  the  slayer  for  a  loop.  the  creature  had  tossed  her  against  a  tombstone,  causing  her  back  to  collide  with  the  stone  and  her  body  to  thump  onto  the  ground  of  the  cemetery.  she  looked  up,  flipping  her  hair  out  of  her  eyesight,  and  catches  aiden  ready  to  sacrifice  herself  for  her.  she  didn't  like  that.  she  swallows  and  jumps  right  back  up  onto  her  feet,  standing  next  to  the  witch.  she  shook  her  head,     ❛   there's  no  way  i'm  letting  you  take  credit  for  the  big  guy.  'sides,  i'm  not  even  tired  yet   ...   ❜   she  shot  a  smirk  at  aiden  before  throwing  herself  right  back  into  battle.  she  dodges  the  demon's  attack  and  swipes  her  leg  underneath  him  causing  it  to  topple  onto  the  hard  ground.  she  wasn't  finished  just  yet.

[itsclydebitches]

Prior to Doctor Who: Flux starting, I was thinking to myself, “I really hope Yaz is allowed to take a more active role in adventuring with the Doctor.” Just because Yaz has always demonstrated the most drive and aptitude for non-passive exploration, even to the point of obsession at times — her months long attempts to find the Doctor while she was in jail come to mind — and because familiarity with the TARDIS, alien tech, and a general nonchalant attitude regarding dangerous situations is a staple of long-term companions. (Think Nine, Rose, and Jack’s rapid-fire explanation of getting the TARDIS ready to go, a scene that very much excludes Mickey.) What I hadn’t expected though was for Chibnall to give us that growth in the most heart wrenching way possible. 

Post-time skip, Yaz is seriously skilled. She’s rescuing Dan all on her own. She’s co-flying the TARDIS. She’s rattling off information and reading outputs like it’s old hat. Only problem is, all of it is couched in an almost professional veneer. The Doctor is treating Yaz more like an assistant — a soldier — than a traveling companion. Orders are given for what needs doing and when. Questions are not allowed. She’s denied any information about why this hunt is so important (with the Doctor actively lying and claiming it’s not). And when Yaz pushes back, their past adventures are used as a way of guilting her into shutting up. Haven’t I given you experiences of a lifetime? Admittedly, nothing the Doctor does in this episode is wholly new, especially when we take all incarnations into account. We’ve seen her be unkind to companions before, lie to them, order them about, refuse to open up, refuse to answer their questions, act like she’s above them, etc. Yet, for me anyway, there's something about cramming all this behavior into one episode that really highlights the conflict here; what the Doctor’s obsession with the Division has wrought. 

Outside of Yaz herself, I think the most telling scene is the one with Claire. Yes, this moment mirrors the one in “Blink” when Sally approaches Ten and Martha, but notably, there it’s the companion trying to keep the Doctor on track: 

“Doctor, we haven't time for this. The migration's started.” 

“Doctor, please. Twenty minutes to red hatching.“ 

“Doctor!” 

In “The Halloween Apocalypse,” we have a bit of a reversal. Here it’s Yaz asking Claire if they’ve met before whereas the Doctor immediately tries to dismiss her with, “We’re in the middle of something important here.” Yaz seems the most interested in unraveling the mystery of someone from their future, whereas the Doctor is distracted by her hunt. Yes, she asks a few cursory questions, but the moment her sonic beeps she’s ignoring Claire for her Division lead. A human has been kidnapped from Earth for unknown reasons. The TARDIS is bleeding (yikes) and popping up random doors. Now here comes a confused, vulnerable looking woman from their future bearing such tantalizing comments as, “If it’s true” and “I was just taking the long way home”... yet the Doctor doesn’t care. And that’s so unlike her. Which I mean not in the “Chibnall is writing the Doctor OOC” way, but rather “Chibnall’s Timeless Child arc is finally catching up with the Doctor — no more brushing it aside with assurances that she’s currently who she wants to be  — and the trauma of that is wreaking havoc with her normally bubbly, fascinated, helpful nature.” This is a version of the Doctor throwing her companion into very dangerous situations not to help others, but to help herself. Who ignores a confused, somewhat frightened looking woman to pursue her lead. Who tells Yaz to save Dan because she’ll be busy trying to intimidate Karvanista about her past. Outside of big picture emergencies  — like trying to ensure Earth isn’t dematerialized by the Flux  — this is a rather non-Doctor version of the Doctor... and I’m kind of digging it. Provided that we grapple with and resolve it, of course. This premiere, while fun, was rather messy overall, with the fanbase hoping that the fifty different plot threads Chibnall introduced will, over the course of the miniseries, be woven together into a cohesive tapestry. We hope that we can look back on Flux and tell new fans, “Nothing makes sense right now, but it will and it’s great.” Similarly, I hope the threads surrounding the Doctor, her past, and Yaz’s place at her side are likewise brought together into a compelling resolution, especially given the refreshing impact it’s had on her: something between Nine’s simmering trauma and Ten’s explosive Time Lord Victorious. Doctor Who is a spectacle at times, certainly, but its charm stems from the small, human moments it’s built on. So I hope this potential, some of the best we’ve seen for Yaz and the Doctor’s relationship since they were introduced, isn’t swept under the rug in favor of prioritizing the universe ending apocalypse. We’ll no doubt get answers to our Timeless Child questions, but resolving a mystery isn’t always the same thing as exploring the emotional impact of it. Let the Doctor save the day and come to terms with her own identity, including how that search has turned her into someone who is unintentionally hurting others, Yaz in particular. 

[seconds-not-decades]

Step {Back} In Time

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem! OC

Author's Note: Hello and welcome. This is my season two fic (and sequel to Time and Chase). I will be posting daily. *Please note that I am well aware that Elliot Page portrays Viktor, but due to season two being before his transition, that is why his character is still Vanya. I am not deadnaming him and I sincerely hope I don't come across as such. I will transition when I write season three.*

Warnings: cursing, mentions of blood and minor injuries, and minor violence.

Previous | Next

The Swedish Job

~ * ~

On April the 1st, 2019, the Earth was destroyed in a cataclysmic event.

Billions of people were wiped out in a matter of minutes.

Ironically, the seven survivors of the apocalypse were the very family members who brought it on.

~ * ~

Best way to end the day: frantically helping Lila try to fix Diego's stab wound. Diego screamed out when Lila pressed the hot metal to his wound.

"Shh! Don't move. This thing is very finicky," Lila told Diego, pressing a cloth to soak up excess blood.

"What happened?" he groaned in pain.

"I saved your stupid life and your dear sister-in-law is helping me," Lila responded as Karina came back with a first aid kit.

"Were you following me?" Diego eyed Lila.

"Uh, hey, how about a little gratitude, knife boy. If it wasn't for me, you'd be dead."

"That's twice now, by the way," Karina added.

Diego's head shot up. "Where are my clothes? The hell happened to my clothes?"

"I said, don't move!" Lila snapped as he attempted to sit up. She pressed the metal utensil to his wound again and it sizzled.

Diego shrieked out in pain and fell back, groaning.

"There. That's better," Lila was satisfied as Diego softly moaned.

A flash of blue light occurred and Five appeared, sighing when he saw the three.

"Oh. He isn't dead," he observed his brother dryly.

"Disappointed?" Lila asked as Karina began to stitch Diego up.

"Oh, to see you? Always," Five answered sarcastically, grabbing a cloth from Karina's side and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"So much hostility in such a tiny package," Lila eyed him. He stepped away, pressing the cloth to his neck. "Did you cut yourself shaving? I could teach you to shave like a big boy."

He sighed. "No, I just ran into an old family friend," he gave Karina a reassuring look before she could open her mouth.

There was a soft snoring from behind him and he glanced back to see Elliot deep asleep, still bound to his chair.

"You didn't untie him?" Five looked at Lila.

"Was I supposed to?" she frowned.

Karina finished stitching up Diego. "I'll go release him." She heaved a breath as she got up, grabbing a bandage along the way. She brushed past Five and went to untie their friend.

"Thanks for staying here," Five watched her.

"Of course," she waltzed over to him and before he could protest, she gently lifted his head to inspect his neck. She hissed in pain. "Whoever or whatever got you, wasn't holding back." She cleaned his cut and put the bandage over it.

"Well, it was my mistake for getting too close," Five admitted flatly.

Early the next morning, Elliot was in the main room, reading a book. Suddenly, an alarm started beeping loudly and a red light blinked.

"Hey, we got one," Elliot announced. "Hey, one of those machines you asked for is going crazy."

"Which one?" Five came over with Karina.

"It's the, uh, atmospheric radar," Elliot looked at the screen.

Five studied it as well. "Good."

"I don't get it. What are you two tracking?" Elliot questioned. "A hurricane? A storm front?"

"Sound waves," Karina replied.

"Sound waves," Elliot echoed.

Before Elliot could say anything else, the couple blinked out.

~ * ~

The two reappeared in the middle of a huge blast area that smashed and wiped out a portion of the cornfield.

"Oh, wonderful," Karina looked around. "Do you remember where exactly the sound waves were pinpointed on Elliot's radar?"

"Yeah. Come on, she's gotta be around here somewhere," Five beckoned her to him.

The two ran off to their right. Cornstalk snapped beneath their feet as they began to search for Vanya. In the distance, Five noticed a rather familiar silhouette crouched down. He went that way and parted the corn, seeing his sister hidden from view.

"Hi, Vanya," Five greeted casually and Karina smiled at her.

"Who are you two?" Vanya slowly stood up.

"I'm your brother," Five replied. "And this is your sister-in-law." He gestured to Karina.

"I have a brother?" Vanya was stunned and she glanced at Karina. "And a sister-in-law? Are…Aren't you a little young to be married?"

"Long story," Karina admitted.

"Look, you can either stay here and wait for the IKEA mafia to come back to kill you, or you can come with us," Five got them back on track, starting to walk off.

"Wh-Why are they trying to kill me?" Vanya stammered, quickly following the couple.

"'Cause you're not supposed to be here, Vanya," Karina responded.

"In Dallas?"

"No. Here, in 1963."

After fighting their way through the cornstalks, they got back to the crop circle Vanya pretty much created.

"Holy shit," Vanya was shocked.

"Yeah, pretty wild, right?" Karina softly laughed.

Five sighed. "It's good to see your powers are still intact. Let's go."

The three ended up going to a café to catch Vanya up on what's been going on.

"Leave the pot, dear," Five requested to the waitress pouring his coffee. "Thank you."

She set the pot down next to his cup. "Lippy little shit," she muttered as she walked off.

"You gonna tell me what the hell's going on?" Vanya got to the point, sitting between the couple.

"When you were a baby, you were bought by an eccentric billionaire," Five began the explanation. "He raised you in an elite academy with six other siblings with extraordinary powers, but in the year 2019, in order to avoid the apocalypse, we jumped into a vortex and ended up being scattered throughout the timeline in Dallas, Texas."

"Any questions?" Karina piped up, taking a sip of her orange juice.

"What do you mean, "the apocalypse"?" Vanya stared at them in disbelief.

"We mean the end of the world as we know it," Five replied.

"Yeah, but how?"

Five and Karina exchanged a rather concerned look.

"You really don't remember anything?" Five softly inquired.

"No, nothing before a month ago," his sister shook her head.

"Then what do you remember?" Karina tried, her voice gentle.

Vanya thought for a moment. "I landed in, like, a…back alley. Got hit by a car. My head was ringing like crazy. I had no idea how I got there, where I came from." She paused. "What causes the apocalypse?"

Five looked away and down, debating to say the truth. Karina gave him a concerned look and she deeply hoped he'd be the one to be honest to her. After all, she had been lied to about her powers for almost her entire life. Surely Five wouldn't be the next to hide the truth, right?

"Asteroid impact," he finally answered with. "The big kaboom ends everything. Just like the one that got the dinosaurs, except way worse," he took the coffee cup into his hands. "Bad news is, it followed us here."

"What do you mean, "followed us"?" Vanya sat up in her chair a bit more.

"Eight days from now, the world ends in a nuclear doomsday. It's a different disease, but…same result," Five explained.

She slightly shook her head. "That can't be right."

"We saw it. With our own eyes," he sighed. "You were there. We all were." He stared forward and down, focusing his gaze on his ring.

She glanced down as well. "Shit," she saw a phone behind her. "I need to make a phone call." She leapt to her feet and hurried off.

"Vanya," Five turned to stop her, but Karina caught his arm.

"Let her go," she looked at him sympathetically, taking Vanya's seat next to him.

Five let out a slow, soft exhale as he took a drink of his coffee.

Vanya was still on the phone as Five and Karina watched her. He subconsciously slipped his arm around Karina's waist and she smiled, subtly leaning into him.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Five muttered in irritation.

Karina lifted a shoulder. Aggravated as ever now, he downed the rest of his coffee.

"Five, what are you-" Karina broke off as he stalked over to the phone.

He inserted a few coins and ended the phone call abruptly.

"What the hell?" Vanya demanded.

"We don't have time for this!" Five told her.

"That's my friend you just hung up on!"

"Listen to me," Five took her shoulders and continued in a soft voice. "Those people from the field are coming after us. They are never going to stop. Do you understand me? We need to stick together, find the others, figure out how to stop doomsday. Whoever this person is, they can't be more important than the end of the world. We need to go."

He let her go and Vanya stared down blankly before reluctantly putting the phone away. She sighed and followed the couple out.

~ * ~

Five, Karina, and Vanya slipped through the roaring crowd. They were trying to see Luther at the boxing ring.

His opponent was against the wall, panting and catching his breath. Luther was readying himself for another round of punches to throw. But suddenly his expression changed. That gave his opponent the chance to punch him, though Luther took it without a punch back.

The crowd groaned as the opponent continued to punch Luther. Vanya and Karina were cringing as Five watched his brother anxiously.

"Look, he's pummeling him," Vanya commented.

Luther got thrown against the wall in front of the trio.

"Luther, fight back!" Five cried as Luther kept getting beaten badly.

"What is he doing?" Karina was in disbelief.

"Luther, are you crazy? Hit him back!" Five yelled.

Luther kept getting punched as the crowd roared and Jack Ruby was screaming at him. His opponent upper cut Luther square in the chin, sending him flying back and knocking him out. Vanya, Five, and Karina gasped sharply, watching him crash to the ground. Angry shouting and booing roared from the crowd.

"Shit," Five breathed out.

"Luther," Karina whispered.

"Why didn't he fight back?" Vanya asked.

Five shook his head, knowing they had to get Luther to out of there to get patched up.

~ * ~

[cinnamonrusts]

together, we can make it out alive - 1

[a/n: originally posted on my Ao3 and I decided to revamp my series some with my updated writing techniques. Hope you enjoy.]

                                                                  ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚

*BEEPBEEP BEEPBEEP*

The electronic chimes from your alarm clock blared loudly in your ear. Groans escaped your dry throat as the clock stirred you from your slumber, "Not yet--," your hand fished for the large snooze button on the top of the clock. Five more minutes, that is all you would need. Well, five minutes came and once again the alarm beeped in your ear. Your eyelids slowly lifted as you read the blurry red digits that stared in your face. "3:45 PM", it read. "Shit..." you cursed as you knew that you needed to get up and get around for your nightshift turn.

Your legs swung around the edge of your bed as you stretched with a loud yawn. Daylight peaked in through your blinds and shined directly into your eyes, "I really need some black out curtains," you mumbled to yourself as you made a mental note. This was just your daily routine now. You slept in the morning after getting off work from the Raccoon City Police Department and woke up around 3:00 PM. Ate, exercised, showered, and relaxed all before you pushed pencils on the clock at your desk.

Don't get it wrong. It was a job and you were thankful, but your duties weren't exactly what you expected them to be after the headache that was the police academy. You didn't hate your job, you just didn't -- like it. Also, you really fucking hated Raccoon City. It was not the same place that you remembered as a kid, not to mention all the weird things that had been going on lately. You just really wanted out of there. Maybe go to a warmer city... like Los Angeles or something.

You pushed yourself to a stand and turned around on the balls of your feet to head to the bathroom. When you reached the shower, you turned on the faucet and ran your fingers under the warm water. Just as it reached the perfect temperature, your phone rang. You ignored it and waited for the voicemail to pick up. But it just rang again.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" you yelled at the telephone as you stomped through your apartment to the device on the wall. "Hello?" you answered.

A familiar, yet unwelcomed voice barked from the other end of the line. "[L/N]! Where the hell are you?!" It was Lt. Branagh. "Home. My shift doesn't start until 10." your eyes rolled as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "Get your ass over to the station! We've had reports all day of violent attacks all over the damn city!" He couldn't be serious -- it was 6 hours now until your shift! "I don't come in until--," Branagh cut you off, "I expect to see you soon, [L/N]." the call ended.

You kicked the open moving box that sat in front of you in anger. It flipped onto its side and the contents spilled out onto the floor. It was a bunch of papers that you failed to file away and as you picked them up, you noted a familiar picture on top of the mess. The photo displayed two very recognizable faces that had smiles displayed happily.

You and Leon S. Kennedy.

He was your partner in crime during the police academy. Leon was the only one who didn't see you being a woman as a weakness. The two of you hit it off immediately after he introduced himself and complimented your skills.

On top of your heads were colorful party hats that seemed to be a bit too small. Both of your arms were slinked around his shoulders as you pulled him in for a close hug. His right hand was rested on your waist and the left held up a large mug of beer that was about to spill out onto the floor. Your thumb caressed the image of his handsome face and a smirk spread across your lips. You flipped the picture over and in faded pen was your handwriting: "Graduation Celebration! JULY '98"

Leon crossed your mind often. The two of you lost contact with one another after something happened between the two of you. It was as if that party happened yesterday -- the night that he kissed you. Your eyes closed and you could picture Leon's face perfectly - the way that his lips puckered and the way that they felt.

The two of you stood outside of the bar on that warm summer night. Leon was leaned against his shitty blue car that was wrapped in faded paint and rust. You stood in front of him with your arms crossed and your eyes focused on the clear sky that hovered above. Then the sensation of fingers over your skin drew your attention from the sky, to the man. Your gazes locked and his lids were half shut but a smile was on his lips. "Leon, you're drunk, aren't you?" you chuckled. His fingers wrapped around your bicep, "Maybe," he cooed as he brought you close to him. You could feel and smell his breath, it was warm and stunk heavy of booze.

With his free hand, he moved it to your cheek and tickled it lightly with his knuckle. Your [E/C] eyes stared deep into his moonstone ones, Leon's pupils dilated before they closed. His lips met yours. They were smooth but a bit chapped - he must be an avid user of Chapstick, you thought. The kiss was quick but meaningful. When he pulled away, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for another. When the two of you broke apart, you noted the way those moonstone pools in his head looked at you -- you could get lost in them -- forever.

The fond memories brought warmth to your heart that you lost the track of time. Pounds from beneath you interrupted your reminiscence. Your neighbor below screamed through the floorboards. "Hey, you fucking idiot! Stop using all the hot water! You're not the only one who fucking lives here!" he continued to pound and yell. "Shut up, you fuck!" you screamed back as you scrambled to your feet. Your clothing was stripped from your body as you dashed to the shower, and jumped directly into the lukewarm stream.

You knew that Branagh was most likely boiled over in anger because of how late you were already. Once you finished your shower, you pulled on your police uniform, styled your hair into a neat bun, grabbed a bagel, and ran out the door. Your car was parked pretty far down the road and rain began to fall from the sky. What a perfect start to the day. You shoved the bagel into your mouth and dashed for your car. The key slipped in your hands as you fiddled with them to get the door unlocked. Just as you grabbed the correct one, they fell onto the ground and so did your bagel.

"I've already had enough of today," you cursed and sighed to yourself as you bent over to pick them up. When you stood back up, a woman came from nowhere and threw herself onto you. She cried in panic and spoke incoherently. You noted the large wound on her shoulder and blood was seeped heavily into her shirt. "P-Please! Help me!" she grabbed onto your shirt with blood stained hands. "Ma'am!" you yelled and pushed her off of you for your own safety. She stumbled back and fell to her knee, "Let me call an ambulance!" you started to run to a nearby pay phone but she stopped you with a stutter that it was too late. "There's more of them!" her head turned in the direction of an alley to the left, then she took off from the ground in a haste. "Ma'am, wait!" you yelled as you watched her run away around the corner and into the city.

"Who's coming?" you whispered. With curiosity, you walked toward the alley that the woman had looked down but saw no one. Maybe she was one of the crazy people that were noted to be around the city and around the Arklays... If you saw her again, you'd probably call in some backup... the crazy look in her eyes... it unsettled you. You managed to shake the image of them from your mind and focused on getting out of the rain.

As you walked back to your car, you noticed the red stains that were now stained into your uniform. Whatever. You would worry about it after you made it to work. Once you got into your car, the radio started talking about more and more unrest that had spread more and more through the streets. Your finger pressed the power off, "Enough of that." the news was just the same and you just knew that you had to deal with it first hand once you arrived at the station, it just made it worse.

In front of the parking garage for the RPD were several cars that seemed to have been in an accident. Your car couldn't go any further than where you were at, so you hopped out of the vehicle to walk the rest of the way. People dashed around the streets in a panic and it seemed as if it were the apocalypse. You tried to flag people down to stop them but they all ignored you. What the hell is going on?! When you entered the station, there was even more chaos. Officers ran around like wild and some seemed to be injured as well. You felt anxious and confused by everything that was going on. What had gone on in your brief time away?

Phones rang, people yelled, doors slammed, and everything soon overwhelmed you, you could feel yourself going into an overload. But a strong hand on your shoulder was a saving grace. "There you are, [L/N]!" it was Branagh and a brief look of relief washed across his face. "I left a stack of paperwork on your desk. Sort through it and then you're going out on patrol. Some crazy shit is going down..." he gave you a light push in the direction of your desk.

As you walked to the back of the office, you noticed the banner that was spread across the ceiling in blue and yellow.

"WELCOME LEON"

Your heart pumped in your chest and you could feel your skin begin to turn clammy. There was only one Leon that you know of that was a cop. The man that you shared a kiss with and so many more feelings... Leon -- Kennedy? Was he actually on his way here? He always told you that after the academy he would eventually come find you in the city and be your partner again. You thought that it was just a joke -- but now, it didn't seem that way. How could he come here without saying anything to you? No call? No email? Nothing?

Your eyes remained on the banner and you asked your co-worker who sat on the desk beneath it, "Hey, Rita. Who's this, Leon?" She didn't look up from her desk, "I dunno. Some new guy from out of town. Last name starts with a K or something like that. Ask Neil, I'm sure he knows." You could feel a knot in your stomach and you darted to your chair. The desk that was across from you was normally piled high with boxes of paperwork, but now it was cleared off. You leaned over the divider and snatched the piece of paper on the desk. Your eyes darted across the text:

"Leon S. Kennedy, we're putting you on a very special case for your first assignment. Your mission is to... unlock your desk! The key to your success is in the initials of our first names."

The note confirmed it. It was indeed that Leon. You plopped back into your seat and gnawed on the nail of your thumb. Your thoughts were now consumed as to how both Leon and yourself would react when he arrived. You could see it now...

He would laugh with the other officers as they shot the shit with him. He would be in the center of the group, they would slap him on the back and tell him how happy they were to have him on the force. His gaze would eventually land on you and he would excuse himself from them. Leon would smile and show off his perfect teeth. He'd saunter over and slowly shake his head, "I didn't expect to see you here, [F/N]."

You swallowed hard but your thoughts were interrupted when the sounds of glass shattered right outside of the office's door.

The chatter and hubbub in the office halted as everyone's attention turned toward the door.  An officer who wasn't much older than you rushed toward the noise, he couldn't make out exactly what it was from behind the glass of the door but drew his gun in preparation. He looked back at the office filled with you and your co-workers before opening the door slowly. "Hello?" he called out. His gun was pointed out into the hallway but found that there was nothing there. Then a sound of something you had never heard before or ever would forget echoed loudly in the empty hall.

It sounded like a monster, there was no other way to explain it. It pierced through your ears and then the sounds of the officer's shrieks shook your core. A loud gurgle erupted from his throat as he was tackled by a person onto the floor. This - person, dug their teeth deeply into his throat and proceeded to rip it out. Bright, red liquid sprayed from the wound across the floor. Two male officers threw themselves onto the assailant and tried their hardest to pull him off but soon were attacked as well. Gunshots blasted off in the office which then were accompanied by more sounds of broken glass. The assailant dropped dead beside the officers on the floor and everyone exchanged glances of pure terror.

"More are out there!" yelled Branagh as he held his weight against the door to stop any more of these "people" from killing everyone his subordinates. "Pistols aren't going to keep us alive for much longer," Rita cried out. "But Irons insisted we hide everything else away, remember!?" your fellow officers shouted at each other as tension rose - fear and panic began to set in.

"I know where some are," you piped up. "I have the keycard for the weapons locker," you reached into your shirt pocket and pulled out a white, plastic card. "Perks of being the newbie, I guess. I'll go." you walked toward the back door but stopped when Branagh barked at you, "You can't go alone!" You shook your head, "I will be right back, I promise." you disregarded his arguments and with a deep breath, opened the door and took off on your mission.

The hall was dark and quiet, the electricity must had been cut out in this section of town. You swallowed hard and with your pistol in on hand with the flashlight in the other, you took quiet yet brisk strides down the long stretch of hallway. All you could hear was the sounds of your bootsteps and the groans of those things that lurked just outside of the fences that kept the building somewhat safe. You needed these guns, no matter what. Or you and your co-workers would end up just like those officers - dead. Your breathing was heavy and your heart raced which could be felt in your skull, "Easy girl," you spoke out, "Just a few doors and you'll be there."

Time was not on your side, so you took off in a sprint. The feeling of being so vulnerable next to a stretch of windows worried you as you could fall victim to whatever those things were at any time. They weren't exactly "things" they looked human and most likely were but maybe they were deranged with some sort of illness. But nonetheless, they were dangerous and deadly... Just as you feared, one of them crashed through the window. Their greedy palms reached for you over the broken glass and managed to snag you by your hair. You screamed in pain and terror as their strength pulled you in but when you pulled away, you only pulled them closer. Your pistol flew from your hands and slid across the floor, too far for you to reach.

Their bloody jaws snapped as they tried their hardest to sink their teeth into your soft flesh. You could feel their breath on your skin and you struggled but could feel your strength giving way to theirs. There was only one thing you could do and it was to grab the knife that was attached to the side of your right leg. Your fingertips were just barely able to reach the handle but with one quick lunge of your body, you grabbed hold of the weapon. The desire to survive charged your strength and you began to saw through the strands of your hair that were gripped tight in the clutches of the creature. Tears poured down the sides of your face as you sawed through the strands that were the barrier between you and certain death.

The creature was now halfway over the window and their hand still had your [h/c] hair in between their fingers, jaws still snapped at you as they begged to taste your flesh. You scrambled on all fours as you attempted to gather yourself so that you could press on. Your foot slipped on a large piece of broken glass which sent you across the floor, you then landed onto a large chunk of broken glass. The sharp piece embedded itself deep into your knee and you cried in pain as you held your leg close to your chest. The creature dug its nails into the tile floor and started to crawl toward you with dead eyes, and bloody teeth. You took several deep breaths as you prepared to yank the glass from your leg and with one last deep inhale, you yanked it out. You cried in pain but knew that you had to keep going, your muscle burned as it now was exposed to the air. You made sure to grab your pistol from the floor before you continued on.

Your sprint was now resorted to a quick limp but you managed to make it to the locker room. To your dismay, it was mostly empty besides a couple of shotguns and some ammunition. "Fuck! Fuck! This isn't enough!" you screamed as you pounded your fist against one of the lockers. Inside one of the open lockers was a weapons bag which you were able to fill with the lackluster amount of supplies. As you zipped up the bag, the metal door to the room opened and the sound drew your attention. Your pistol was ready and you limped around the corner to hide behind a row of lockers to hide from who or whatever it was. The room was dark but a flashlight flipped around the room, whoever it was, they were there to look for those guns or you. Your thumb slowly pulled the hammer back on the weapon and rounded the corner, "Stop right there!" you yelled.

It was a man and he seemed to be normal for the most part. He complied and raised his arms in the air. "Turn around!" Again, he complied and did a slow 180. Through the faint glow of his flashlight, your eyes caught a glimpse of a set of familiar moonstone pools.

"[Y/N]?!" his voice raised in shock. The entire city was faced with an apocalypse scenario or even the whole world for all you knew and the one person you run into is Leon -- Leon Kennedy.

He dropped his arms and grabbed hold of your, then pulled you into a tight hug. Leon smelled of sweat and cologne, the very cologne that you bought for him as a graduation gift. You breathed him in as it registered to you that this was real, he was really here. But you pulled away, "Leon, we have no time for chit chat. We gotta get moving, people need these guns!" you pointed to the bag that sat on the floor by your feet. As you tried to throw it over your shoulder, you winced in pain. "Here, let me get it." Leon attempted to take it from your hand but you paused before you surrendered the precious cargo, "I can trust you with this, right?" your grip was tight on the strap, "When have you ever doubted me?" he asked with a smile, "You don't want to know that..." your grip released as you responded but also pointed the fact that your leg was injured.

"Sorry to be a liability," you apologized, but Leon pulled you to his side, "Nonsense. I got this and you, just keep an eye out for zombies."

You led Leon down the hallway that you had your close brush with death in, the zombie, as Leon called it, was now gone. But when the two of you reached the door to the office, it was eerily quiet. Not a good sign. You pushed the door open to find the office void of any life, nothing but blood. Lots and lots of blood. Your heart hurt as you felt a pain in your chest, was everyone dead? The lifeless body of Rita laid on the floor with her eyes opened, her brown orbs were absent of the vibrant life she once had.

Tears welled in your eyes but as you turned to flee, you bumped into Leon's chest. A look of horror on Leon's face matched yours, "I-I left them not even an hour ago..." you cried into his shirt for a moment as he held you lightly with one arm. When you pulled away, you wiped your eyes and Leon took your hand from your face.

"I'm happy you're alive, [Y/N]," you examined your matured features and you did his. His hair grew a little longer than when you had seen him last and he examined your frazzled locks. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a door behind Leon opened and shut. A man walked out from the shadows and into the light, it was Branagh. He held onto his side and you could see he was injured with his shirt heavily stained with what was most likely his blood.

Leon pulled his pistol out and pointed it at your superior while he had a protective hand on your arm. Branagh coughed a wheezed laugh and shooed his gun out of his face. He looked over to you and smiled, "Good to see you're still breathing, [Y/N]." The Lieutenant approached your male companion and placed a bloody hand on his shoulder,

"You must be Leon Kennedy -- well, son, welcome to Raccoon City."