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astaroth1357 · 3 years

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Demigod MC Series: Nyx

Nyx is a primordial goddess and the Greek personification of Night - the mother of Hypnos, Thanatos, Nemesis, and many more. She's a mysterious figure in their mythos as there's little surviving info about her cult. What is known, however, is that she was portrayed as beautiful, powerful, and feared by Zeus himself.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares, Hestia, Nyx

Lucifer

What happens when you take a being born from the darkness and place them in a realm of eternal night…?

The answer came when the MC first stepped out of the portal. Everyone in the room was wholly expecting a normal-looking, confused human they could get up to speed, however…

The MC's skin suddenly darkened until it was as black as a shadow, their clothes levitated around them as if they were defying gravity, and glimmering speckles dotted their skin like twinkling stars.

Even their eyes turned a pure, glowing white without irises or pupils… Like two crowning stars locked into a body made from the shimmering night sky...

They weren't human. At the time, Lucifer wasn't even sure he could say what they were... Breathtaking, certainly, but there was something else about them that he couldn't place… something… foreboding...

Diavolo must have had the same unease because Barbatos was put in charge of monitoring them. The butler would send reports to them both and the results would range from benign to nerve-racking...

They kept their distance from his brothers and most people, but their power seemed immense... Barbs would report seeing them making small items float or summoning a meteor shower from their fingertips!

Lucifer ended up actually tasting their powers only once. When they stepped in to protect Beel and Luke and he went to attack them…

The whole House began to shake and the candles of the tomb started going out one by one as the air grew intolerably heavy... He could have sworn he saw a vortex of… something... swirling at their feet...

He backed off immediately and Beel and Luke got off with a warning, mostly because he was trying not to look utterly petrified...

He's never met a more beautiful and dangerous creature in his life… Pact mark or no, this is probably the only person the firstborn will admit he never wants to have to fight because he'd lose, big time.

Mammon

He was expecting to find a human when he walked into the Student Council room, not an alien!!

Mammon was seriously scared of the MC when they first met because he legitimately believed they were an extraterrestrial sent to probe him!!... Or whatever else those scary movies say aliens do, lay eggs in his stomach?

He straight up avoided them like the plague until the Goldie incident more or less bound them together. But even then there was a distance between them he just couldn't place…

Naturally, it bothers a demon a bit if their master doesn't seem to like them, so he eventually cornered them one day to force them to tell him why they'd been running off!

As it turned out, the MC actually knew as little about their new form everybody else! They had been perfectly normal in the human world, but for some reason the Devildom supercharged them! They could tell that they were powerful, but had no idea how to control themselves yet and it scared them...

So Mammon became their first unofficial "coach." Not that he knew how to train them or anything, but he was the first person supportive enough to even try to help them learn their new powers.

It led to some… interesting misadventures. Like when the MC unexpectedly burst every water pipe in the House or when they got a little too frustrated and ripped the kitchen apart with an accidental twister, but hey, Mammon was always there for them at least.

Of course, because he's who he is, he's not above asking the MC to help him with his schemes for "training purposes…" Infiltration is more fun if you're weightless, after all!

Speaking of weightless… His favorite way to float is when the MC gets excited and hugs him. They can't help but levitate them both off the ground when they're that happy and it makes the whole hug that much sweeter.

Leviathan

It's… it's like he's in his very own Magical Girl anime!!! Uh, "I'm a Demon and this is My New Life with a Magic Starchild!!"-or something like that. 🤷‍♀️

He didn't even think their transformation was real when he first saw it! He really thought it was an elaborate body art cosplay but then their "freckles" rearranged themselves when he frightened them, so it had to be real!!

He'll declare that they're probably (literally) the coolest thing on the planet. They have the looks of an epic fantasy character plus insane powers to boot!

…though uh… they may need a training arc or two to learn how to control them… 😅

Since their powers are apparently tied to their emotions, Levi's seen them do a whole bunch of stuff that's not entirely on purpose... Like, they can make things float when they're happy and push everything down when they're sad.

So once he showed them one of those "tragic ending" animes for fun, but they cried so hard that they increased gravity and accidentally sent his bathtub crashing into the basement…

The worst of it is when they're mad, though. He made the mistake of making them play a rage game once and they ended up shattering all the glass in his room! His aquarium wall and Henry's fishtank included!!

They were able to make a zero G sphere of water in order to save Henry's life, but the cleanup was brutal… They were super sorry, but Levi took most of the blame himself anyway.

Honestly, he'd have been more mad but their body is clearly not something they can control just yet. Plus, it's so cool that he can put up with a little destruction anyway, you know?

Satan

Well, isn't that an interesting phenomenon?

Meeting a demigod is exciting enough, but one who reacted to the Devildom like that? It was pretty much unheard of!

Though he'd hate to admit it, Satan stalked the MC just as closely as Barbatos for a little while... But only because he was a little unsure of how to approach them…

They kept to themselves and their powers seemed "a little" unpredictable (see Levi's orphaned bathtub). Thankfully, Mammon ended up recommending the MC to him since Satan's one of the smartest guys around.

Satan made a better coach than Mammon, anyway. He was far more knowledgeable and actually able to hypothesize the strength their powers, which came in handy because uh… well…

Look. The whole realm 'ooohs' and 'ahhhs' over their appearance but they're all fools - no morons - for not noticing what potential the MC actually has. Satan was positive that the MC is the most powerful being in the Devildom, without question.

They had a complete control over gravity, atmospheric pressure, and even astronomical bodies… If they wanted to, they could literally pluck a planet out of orbit and send it careening into who knows what!

Want more terrifying? They could create near-matterless vacuums at the palms of their hands with the potential to suffocate, crush, or rip apart basically anything they wanted with implosive force….

Does he even need to spell out why that's utterly horrifying??

At least the MC seemed to be a genuinely nice person who wanted to control their powers better… Their emotions often got in the way but they tried their best.

He likes the MC a lot, but he'd be lying if he said that they didn’t also terrify him… They may have been pretty normal in the human world, but give them endless night and they may as well be a god...

Asmodeus

Oh… My… Father!!! They're GORGEOUS!!!!

From the moment their transformation completed, Asmo had never seen anything like them! He said that they were like a living droplet of the night sky!

They were magnificent!! They were radiant!!! He was posting pictures of them before they had even said their first sentence!!

So Asmo was pretty much patient zero for any and all rumors and hype about the MC after that... Apparently someone like them only visits the Devildom every one, maybe two, centuries so everybody was bound to get talking.

Thankfully, the MC's habit of ducking out of the House kept them from becoming a full on sideshow. Unfortunately, however, Asmodeus was relentless!

He'd beg them to try modeling or make videos with him because of their unique look! He'd lay on the praises, but it was a little... much. It wasn't until Mammon finally stepped that he backed off a bit.

Asmo sometimes forgets that not everyone puts as much emphasis on looks as he does... Though he meant well, he hadn't realized that the MC maybe wouldn't appreciate him making such a big deal out of their appearance change. Pretty as it was, it was still involuntary to them...

Of course, after they told him this he cooled off and stopped putting them out there so publicly but even still he could hardly keep his eyes off of them... unless he was looking in a mirror, of course. 😘

A fun fact about the MC: when they blush, their skin makes a pink nebula. And thanks to his antics, Asmo has seen their lively pink cheeks many, many times… 🤭

Beelzebub

Belphie would like them, wouldn't he...?

Beel's first reaction upon seeing the MC was genuine sadness, as seeing the stars with his twin brother still gone often brought him…

The sadness didn't last too long at least because Beel tried his best to see the MC more like a person than a work of art or an oddity. Sure, they looked different - like really different - but they still laughed, cried, and ate like everybody else so they couldn't be that different.

Though then again, most people don't end up floating in midair when they laugh… Eh, oh well. It's not like those little details bother him. 🤷‍♀️

He always remained certain that Belphie would like the MC so he told them a lot about him. Since his twin loved stargazing, it'd only be natural that he'd like someone who looked like the stars, right?

Aside from the occasional tangent about his brother, Beel would also help the MC with their training by letting them help him with his training!

Controlling gravity can be pretty nifty for strength/resistance exercises, so there would be days where Beel would just pull a Dragon Ball and walk around at 1.5 or 2 times Earth's gravity thanks to having the MC on his back!

Sure, lifting a glass of milk becane so difficult that he literally broke a sweat from trying, but he felt like he can juggle motorcycles afterwards so who's complaining? Not him!

Belphegor

……

………….

Was it some kind of joke?

The MC was not human. There was no way in heaven or hell that whatever he lured to the attic was supposed to be a human!!

Really, everything about the MC and their situation seemed directly designed to throw a monkey wrench into his plans...

One: They weren't human so how was he supposed to ruin Diavolo's dream? Two: They were clearly some kind of magical being so they could likely defend themselves…

But third ans most embarrassing of all... he honestly, genuinely, has never seen a more amazing person in his life. Blame it on his soft spot for the stars, but the moment the MC step up to his prison bars, he was smitten...

And. He. HATED IT!

Look, as much as he loved the night sky, he wasn't about to let some random non-human derail his anger! He was stronger than that!

He managed to hold onto his bitterness just long enough to make a halfhearted attempt on their life after they got the door open, but uh…

His brothers found Belphie when he fell through a newly-made hole in the ceiling... Said hole was made when his body slammed to the ground hard enough to crash through the attic floor... 😣

If the damage they caused wasn't enough to change his mind (which it was), then their distress when they thought they might have hurt him certainly did. Even their tears looked like stardust...

After far too long, Belphie got over his denial and began to properly love MC. If he liked stargazing before, he adored it now because he never even has to get out of bed! He can just roll over and follow the "stars" on the MC's body!

Unfortunately, that same love means it also takes a lot to ditch him if they get sick of being his personal night's sky… The brothers have found him floated up and sleeping on the ceiling on numerous occasions so the mortal can get some fresh air (clever MC)...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me demigods

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fantastic-bby · 3 years

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SKZ as animal hybrid boyfriends

Pairing: Reader x Members

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: Fluff | Headcanon | Animal Hybrid/Shifter AU | Boyfriend AU

Warnings: Very brief mention of spiders

Masterlist

Chan

A husky hybrid

Has the CUTEST pair of gray and white ears that stick out of the top of his head

Also has the most gorgeous pair of pale blue eyes that glow in the dark

He has a fluffy white tail that wags like crazy whenever he’s excited because he doesn’t know how to stop it from showing

He’s also the sweetest boyfriend in. The. WORLD!

Always asks how you’re doing

Makes sure your not missing any meals and that you’re always hydrated

Every morning, he wakes you up with cute good morning texts and he always tries to send you good night texts sometimes forgets because he gets so caught up in work

He makes up for it tho

Sends flowers to your place whenever he forgets uwu

Chan’s the perfect boyfriend

The only problem is that you’re allergic to dogs

He didn’t realise why you always seemed to sneezy and stuffy whenever you would come over to his place

Until you told him

And his reaction makes you feel like you just told him the most horrific thing in the world

To him it is!!!!

Because he’s the reason that you’ve been having allergic reactions around him!!

He starts vacuuming his place more often to keep any fur away and makes sure to keep the area super clean so that you’re clear from anything that could cause a reaction

He also starts lint rolling and vacuuming his clothes before giving them to you so that you don’t take any of his fur home unless you ask him to leave his fur

Chan gets confused whenever you tell him that you don’t want him to vacuum or wash his hoodies before giving them to you

But you like them because every time you see the strands of gray and white fur sticking out of his hoodie, it reminds you of him

So instead,

Chan starts buying a crap ton of allergy meds

Puts them in every corner of his house

In the bathroom

The kitchen

The living room

The bedroom

Literally everywhere just in case you get a super bad reaction

That way he’s always prepared for anything

Minho

A maine coon hybrid

The most luscious fur ever known to man

His cat ears are so fluffy and always well groomed

He has this beautiful fluffy orange tail that he’s gotten pretty good at hiding his feelings with

Usually a hybrid’s animal features would probably give away their emotions, but Minho learned to control his ears and tails really well

It’s just that his ears are really sensitive and they flick around every few seconds whenever he’s in a crowded place

He has a pair of yellow eyes that are constantly in the shape of slits simply because he wants to intimidate everyone around him

Also always has his claws out because they intimidate strangers

Wouldn’t tell anyone, but Minho lets his pupils dilate when he’s alone with you (´∀｀)♡

He also likes to tease you a lot but you know he’s just joking because if he was serious, his tail wouldn’t be so related

You try not to tell him because then he’ll start working harder to hide his tail swishes

Is the most precious yet teasing boyfriend out there

He’ll make a joke about you eating a lot of ice cream whenever you’re sad, but he’ll always have your favourite ice cream in the freezer

If you complain about some kind of muscle pain, Min would call you weak but then also come home with muscle relief patches that he’ll stick to you himself

Minho likes to shift into cat form if you’re stressed because then it means that he wouldn’t really disturb you a lot

His footsteps are way quieter when he’s in cat form as compared to human form

So if you’re stressed or tired and you ask him to give you time

Minho would shift and hide in one of the cat towers he bought for himself until he hears you coming out of the bedroom

The moment he hears the sound of the bedroom door opening, he’ll lift his head and peek out from the top

If you sit on the floor right in front of the tower, Minho will scurry off of the tower to sit in your lap to

But if you don’t even look at the tower and you instead go to the kitchen, he’ll wait a bit longer to give you more time

Changbin

Yk I wanna say he’d be some cursed Dwaekki hybrid the skzoo dwaekki haunts me in my sleep

But I genuinely feel like he’d be something really threatening like a wild animal

So if Chan’s a husky and Minho’s a maine coon

I’m gonna throw Changbin in as a grizzly bear because he’s a tank of a man and I love him for that

His ears are dark brown and rounded, poking out from the top of his head

His eyes are super dark brown and sometimes you can’t even tell if you’re able to see the white in his eyes bcs his pupils are just that big

His hands have these huge black claws that could claw someone apart if he wanted to

Also has a cute brown tail that he often hides underneath his clothes because it’s small enough for him to sit on

He gives THE BEST CUDDLESSSS!!!!!

Sometimes shifts into bear form just to cuddle you because it’s cold and relying on the heater might make it too warm

So Binnie likes to use his own fur to warm you up if he notices you shivering

Also would not hesitate to bear his teeth at anyone who tries to hurt you

Changbin doesn’t really tell anyone this

But one of his proudest bear traits is his ability to vocalise like a bear

Which means that whenever he feels the need to protect you or whoever’s around him

He will growl like a bear

And it’s terrifying

You didn’t even know that Changbin could roar until one night when a stranger wouldn't take your ‘no’ as an answer and your boyfriend almost lost his mind

He pulled you behind him and grabbed the collar of their shirt and just roared at them

The stranger being a hybrid of a smaller bear species immediately scrambled off

But Changbin also immediately switches back into sweet, cuddly boyfriend the moment he turns back to you <3

Hyunjin

A sphynx hybrid

Very dramatic

Very loud

He has pink cat ears sticking out of the top of his head with a little black splotch on his left ear

He also has this naked pink tail that sticks out from underneath his shirt

Every minor inconvenience and Hyunjin’s meowing and whining to you about it and you think it’s funny every time he does

Like the time he misplaced his sock and was crying all over your shared home looking for it until he found it underneath the bed

His claws are retractable, so he usually hides them because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone on accident unlike Minho

He’s VERY cuddly both in human form and cat form

Hyunjin likes to do the ‘kneading the dough’ thing whenever you’re cuddling

And ends up leaving holes in your clothes because his claws would accidentally grab onto the fabric

Would also feel really bad afterwards because now he’s ruined your shirt

You reassure him that it’s fine

But Hyunjin’s dramatic also kinda wants an excuse to go shopping with you

So he cries about it and it leads to him dragging you to the mall so that he can buy you a new one

Ends up getting distracted at a cat cafe because he’s made conversation with one of the cats there

And he’s basically talking to them like he’s a middle aged wine mom talking about their weird husbands

You have to remind him what the goal is

But he’s so immersed in the conversation with the orange tabby that you can only watch in amusement

Hyunjin’s talking to it in English while the cat nods with it’s tail swishing every time he asks it a question, mewling every once in a while as a response

You watch with a smile on your face, chin resting against the palm of your hand as you listen

You can only gather that Hyunjin’s telling the cat about why you’re at the mall

And the cat turns to you with a bored expression on its face before meowing

“She says good luck on finding a new shirt”

You nod and reach out to pet the cat’s head as thanks

You and Hyunjin leave after a while

And soon, the trip to get one shirt turns into a shared shopping spree

Jisung

Kinda obvious but he’s a squirrel hybrid

He has a pair of rounded, light brown ears on the top of his head

A bushy light brown tail that bumps into everything whenever he’s in cramped spaces

And the CUTEST pair of brown eyes EVERRRRR

His squirrel trait is where he gets the habit of stuffing food into his cheeks whenever he eats

Ji’s really good at climbing

So he has this long ass piece of wood that he keeps in the living room of his home so that he can still climb something in squirrel form if he can’t go outside

He also has tiny black claws that he uses mainly for practicality when he's in human form

So stuff like cutting into plastic, through strings and to open mail

He just slides his finger across the top of the envelope and boom

Jisung’s quite clumsy

It doesn’t help that he has this huge, bushy tail behind him

He bumps you with it a lot and he’s always so apologetic over it

But it’s fine because it’s his tail and it’s soft and cute and it’s part of Jisung UwU

There were a couple of times where you would wake up and his tail would be tickling your sides

So you’d wake up giggling

And it would wake him up too

He’d turn around and immediately wrap his arms around your waist to cuddle into you

You love playing with his ears

Jisung’s really responsive whenever you pet his squirrel features

So if you touch his tail in public

He’s jolting forward like AHHH

And you like to gently rub his ears whenever you’re cuddling

Jisung usually ends up cuddling into you more because he really likes it whenever you play with his ears

He has a habit of making those squirrel squeaks whenever he’s uncomfortable

So in public, if he feels like he’s overwhelmed or wants to leave

He’ll cling onto your arm and start squeaking softly so that only you’re able to hear

And it’s an easy way for you to know that he wants to leave without him actually telling you

Felix

Horned owl hybrid

He has two sets of white and brown feathers that poke out from the top of his head and curls to the back

He does, however, have talons at his fingertips that he doesn’t really like because it gets caught on a lot of things

Has feathers running down his arms, but can’t actually fly in human form

His eyes are this beautiful amber colour

He also has a lot of hanging stuff in his house that he likes to fly back and forth to whenever he shifts into owl form

Absolutely loves doing the head spinning trick because you freaked out the first time you saw him do it as a human

Felix also has really light footsteps

So sometimes you don’t even hear him coming into a room and suddenly he’s beside you

Which scares you sometimes

Overall, Felix is just unintentionally scary.

Buuuut

Because he has really good eyesight at night

And because he’s nocturnal

He sleeps in the day

Which means that all of his work is done at night while you’re asleep

His hearing is intense which means that he could hear the smallest pin dropping in the kitchen from the bedroom

So when he hears something strange coming from the kitchen

He’s immediately crawling out of bed and peeking out of the bedroom door

That’s when he sees a spider crawling out from behind the fridge

A huge spider

Now, Felix does NOT like spiders

But he knows that if you wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink, then you’re going to be freaked out by too

But he should be able to toss it out the window in owl form

So Felix pops open one of the windows and shifts

His silent flying and sharp night vision make it a quick mission that’s executed without much hassle

He manages to grab the spider with his talons and just tosses it straight out of the window

By the time Felix has returned to the bedroom

You’ve woken up because you realised he wasn’t beside you anymore

So he climbs back into bed and lets you hold onto him while you fall back asleep

Seungmin

Labrador hybrid

Has a pair of golden ears flopping over the top of his head

Also has a golden tail that he usually hides because if he gets over excited then it’ll wag all over the place and might bump into things

Is a relatively quiet person and is also a quiet dog

He doesn’t say or bark that much

But you’ve come to learn how to read his body language

Because his posture both in human form and dog form speak his thoughts

Like whenever he’s standing tall then you’ll figure that Minnie’s probably uncomfortable or feels threatened

As quiet as he is

He’s extremely attentive to your needs as well

Seungmin’s able to catch your body language way quicker than you are at reading his

Which means that the moment you look uncomfortable, he’s immediately moving to stand beside you with an arm wrapped around you

Think of it as that TikTok trend that’s like ‘using my scary dog privilege’

In this case

Seungmin’s more than happy to be the scary dog that lets you walk around alone

He’d bark and bite at anything or anyone who would try to hurt you

Even in human form, he’d growl as a warning to other animal hybrids that are around you

Whenever you’re out in public, Seungmin tries to stay by your side just in case anything happens

But when he has to part from you to talk to another group of your friends

He keeps you in his line of sight

He’d always angle himself in conversations so that the person he’s talking to has their back facing you so that he’s able to see you

And when a cat hybrid suddenly approaches you

Seungmin’s more on the attentive side but he hasn’t gone into protective mode because you don’t look uncomfortable

But then your frame starts to shrink

He immediately changes his posture

Which scares the people around him because suddenly, Seungmin looks so scary

He waits a moment longer and the moment you start looking around the room for him, he’s shoved his drink into the hands of Hyunjin so that he can make his way over to you

He slings his arm over your shoulder and glares at the cat hybrid who’s now extremely intimidated by the presence of the labrador hybrid

Seungmin leans close to the cat and growls at them until they run off

He stays with you for the rest of the night and the way he stays in protective mode makes you feel safe

Until you get home and Seungmin’s back to this ball of cuddle fluff that you absolutely love (｡♥‿♥｡)

Jeongin

Fennec fox hybrid

Has a big pair of white fluffy ears that poke out of his head

Has a fluffy white tail that blends into a more golden colour that’s long enough to poke out from underneath his shirt

He has super insane hearing

Even if he has headphones in, he can hear the outside world

Bodes well for him because whenever you walk into his apartment, he’ll walk out immediately to greet you

He never actually feels hot or warm because his body heat radiates off of his ears

Is always cold in human form

In fox form, his fur insulates his body instead so he doesn’t feel much of a difference

Has a habit of not drinking for hours because he can get stuck in his fox form

Also has a habit of chewing on your desk plants if he deems them edible

Unfortunately for you, that means you’ll come home to your beautiful plant babies half eaten and munched away because your fox boyfriend wanted a snack

To solve this problem, you filled the fridge with berries and vegetables for whenever he feels like snacking

But sometimes he goes overboard and he pretty much eats everything he can find when he forgets to eat for a while

He’s a fox hybrid that doesn’t know how to shift on command

Usually he has this big urge to shift but he’ll be stuck in one form for a while before being able to switch

He doesn’t know any other fox hybrids

So Jeongin has to learn to control his animalistic instincts with the help of you!

His human partner

Lucky for the both of you

You have a friend who’s a red fox hybrid

She’s not a fennec fox

But she still shares similar instincts to Jeongin because they’re both fox hybrids

So now Jeongin comes to you with the biggest smile on his face whenever he’s accomplished something, gushing about how Fox Noona taught him how to shift on command

He’ll show you

And you watch as he shifts into this tiny little fennec fox with a big smile on his snout (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

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tartagluvr · 3 years

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the demon brothers mitski songs

i guess this is considered a song fic? i just related some of my favorite mitski songs to the brothers the best i could. if you have any songs i missed or side characters you would like me to interpret please ask me!! i really enjoy writing based on music, it comforts me and helps me heal. some parts are longer and i apologize for that <3

warnings: angst but if you squint really hard and lay upside down at 2 am chanting in latin there might be fluff. mentions of chp16 in the twins parts

word count: 6k

'undateables' here!

lucifer: first love / late spring

so please hurry leave me / i can't breathe / please don't say you love me / 胸がはち切れそうで (my heart seems like its going to burst)

lucifer has not always known pride.

humility used to be familiar to his body, like a perfectly fitting glove. he had never been in a state of thinking he were better than everyone else, for his sin had not broken him yet.

and your presence somehow, someway, brought back the man he used to be.

work hours were slipping from his hands as if sand while he focused on you, spent time with you. lucifer had even once skipped a rad council meeting just to make sure your cold wasn't going to kill you.

but he knew this was a dangerous game. lucifer was supposed to be the most reliable, hard working demon serving under his dear lord diavolo. there was never room for anyone in his heart except himself and maybe on occasion, his brothers.

you, his dearest human, have wormed your way into that small confined space inside him. and that terrifies lucifer greatly.

your cheerfulness, your drive to protect the ones you love, your angel like smile.

from the first time he felt himself slipping closer to you, lucifer had started pulling back, though you always seemed to close the distance somehow. he is fully aware that he could potentially be fooling you, playing along and eventually hurting your feelings. the ones he is supposed to protect with his life.

lucifer knew very well what he was getting into could never be, but in a desperate attempt to feel like he once was again, he lets you break him down. he lets you push his walls to the sides, clear up the path, and walk straight into his arms.

but the only issue was, you faced him one normal day with that beautiful smile across your face. and said, "i love you".

lucifer has never heard someone say those three words and actually mean it whole heartedly. but as soon as the words left your lips, he knew you were serious. and lucifer could not bring himself to say it back.

it feels as if all the oxygen in the devildom has been vacuumed out. his chest aches, his eyes can't seem to get enough moisture. all at once the gravity of your relationship has washed him clean, and then drowned him in his own filth.

but with a mask of his usual self, lucifer plays the part and quickly moves to excuse himself.

he does not let himself react until he is alone in the underground chamber where he keeps cerberus.

"oh dear," he whispers as his long fingers twist and scratch at his dog's ears. "i don't think i can say those words."

mammon: i will

and while you sleep / i'll be scared / so by the time you wake / i'll be brave / i'll be brave

mammon has never in his life felt what it truly is to deeply and utterly fall in love. that was, until you stepped foot in his home territory.

getting to know you was a breeze, considering how lively and upbeat the boy usually is. people are always attracted to that kind of personality.

and you were so snugly fit into his heart at this point he was starting to get anxious. what if you didn't like him? what if you were just pretending and its all one big joke planned by his brothers? they've done far worse with 'pranks' before.

often when he is having concerns about your relationship/friendship he will ask you in the dead of the night to come over for a 'sleepover'.

what he really gets from these moments is reassurance. your presence, your polite and always kind replies when he asks you to join him in his room. and when you are drifting off slowly in his bed you will feel the weight of something soft being placed over your body. there is faint murmuring but you do not try to make it out.

mammon watches you as you fall asleep. he is embarrassed and terrified you will catch him- but he needs to see you are alive and sleeping well before he can even breathe.

no one ever stopped to wonder if mammon, or rather the shell of himself he is now, could fully handle being a humans protector in the devildom.

lucifer would nag at him constantly (as would all the other brothers too) that he was being reckless, wasn't taking his job seriously, blah blah. you take any remarks they spew at mammon in one ear and out the other, knowing they deep down don't mean their words. that they do actually care for mammon.

but that doesn't mean mammon isn't fucking terrified over keeping you safe.

so while you sleep, he will be there. scared, frightened as if a child during a thunderstorm. but but the time you wake, mammon will be brave.

mammon will put on his million dollar smile, and ask how you slept. and he will lie when you ask him the same.

leviathan: a burning hill

and i am the fire / and i am the forest / and i am a witness watching it / i stand in a valley watching it / and you're not there at all

a sidenote before this one, i really love these lyrics. a lot of people don't fully know the meaning of them, so do let me explain first!

"and i am the fire" mitski is acknowledging she is the problem, she is the fire burning and destroying everything. "and i am the forest" not only is she the one destroying the forest, she is the forest. she is only hurting herself. "and i am a witness watching it" mitski is a bystander watching her mind destroy itself, and she does nothing about it. she is watching as she turns her entire life upside down. "and you're not there at all" mitski does not have a support system. there is no one there to save her from herself.

leviathan may as well be the prince of anxiety in the devildom. his envy feeds into the anxiety, and fuels the fire inside his heart. the two emotions work together in harsh ways to cause chaos in his life.

sometimes, being with you during an anxiety attack is helpful. sometimes, it only makes things worse.

how is he supposed to be your hero protagonist when you're in need if he can't even take care of himself?

asmodeus had been nagging him too much about hygiene, lucifer had been nagging him too much about grades.

now don't get me wrong, leviathan is an extremely smart demon. he's no satan, but he is the best from home student you will ever see. everything he does is at his own pace, and he can excell more than if he were in a classroom.

though this slump he had found himself in for the last month was taking a huge toll on his mental health. he stopped asking the brothers to join him for movie nights, stopped inviting you over for gaming. maybe if he can push you away before you decide to leave on your own, it will be less painful. because it will be his decision, he would have control.

so when you come knocking and singing the password outside his door, he feels like bursting into tears. he could pretend he isn't in his room, but the game he was only half heartedly playing has the volume up and playing outloud.

he lets you come inside. even though his mind is screaming at him to make you leave.

"i noticed you haven't been staying at meals that long for a while. are you feeling okay?"

you watch as leviathan shrugs his shoulders. something is definitely wrong, but you will not know what until he tells you. sometimes thats just how it is with him, he is too good at hiding everything away.

"would playing together cheer you up? what were you playing..." your voice trails off as you skip over to his computer, leaning over his shoulder. the screen says 'game over', something you have never seen on leviathans computer ever before. now more than before you know something is very off. you take a deep breath before deciding what to say next.

"do you want some of my meds? i can go run and grab them-"

"no."

leviathan cuts you off. a few times before when he hit a slump, you had shared some of your human world mood stabilizers with him. it seemed to greatly help with the anxiety and depression. but leviathan was basically refusing help at this point.

you removed your arms from around his shoulders, spinning him by the armrests to face you. you tried to read his eyes, but it seems they were speaking a foreign language today.

"do you want to be alone? hm?"

its a gentle question, your voice barely above a whisper.

leviathan desperately wants to say no. he wants to hold you so tight you can't breathe. to be able to cry in front of you without being embarrassed. he wants nothing more than for you to save him the way he saves you.

leviathan says yes.

you can't save people who don't want to be saved.

leviathan is lighting a match to himself. he is watching as the fire trails up his body, unmoving. he does not fan out the fire. rather he lets it burn bright, all alone in his room. his brain is on fire and he is letting it consume him.

he will be a casualty to only himself, never to you. because he wants more than anything for you to never know of how weak he truly is.

satan: i don't smoke

so if you need to be mean / be mean to me / i can take it and put it inside of me / if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room / you can lean on my arm / as you break my heart

after only being in the devildom for two months, you had stopped or intervened in at least ten fights between lucifer and satan. the two just could not get along it seemed, not even for your sake.

satan does not know or have any understanding of being empathetic, something you know like the back of your hand. seeing the two brothers threaten to kill each other takes a great toll on your mental health.

and yet, after every big fight you find yourself walking to satans room. knocking, waiting on a response. you've entered so many times that just from your knock satan can tell it is you and will usually let you in. today was different for some reason.

when you raised your fist to knock, the sound of shattering glass filled your ears. without even bothering to knock you rushed inside, to see if satan was okay.

satan was in fact, not okay.

in his anger and frustration he had been using basic dark magic to cause his many books to rise into the air, and throw themselves across the room. the crash was the sound of a book catapulting through his window. today was going to be hard to work through. but you were good at tough fights.

"satan, please put the books down so i can come in further," your voice was gentle, calm and kept stable. you didn't fear satan, no. but you feared what his sin would sometimes turn him into.

he made no move to let the books down, throwing his hands into his hair and sighing loudly. so you tried again.

"if you can put the books down we could talk, yea? is that okay?"

in the blink of an eye one of the airborne books collided with your chest, the sheer force knocking you back a few steps. it hurt, your chest stung like you had just been slapped, but you showed no sign of pain. if satan had seen you in pain that he somehow caused, he may never let you close again. and you desperately wanted to be around him, needed him to be close.

"you don't scare me. you know that."

"i should. you should be so afraid you run and never come back. i'll only hurt you. you know that."

satans words were a bit harsh, but at the same time- this wasn't just satan. this was wrath. and wrath was not kind to you like satan was. being able to differentiate the two makes everything way easier.

"wrath, put the books down. that is a command."

slowly but surely, the books fell to the floor with dry thuds resonating in the room. satan wrath looked at you as if he wanted to eat you alive.

before he could speak again, you spun on your heels and threw yourself against the door. you knew the brothers were going to come running in, thinking wrath had hurt you from the noises in the room. and just as you had thought, as you clicked the lock down, the brothers began yelling through the door and knocking loudly.

"i'm fine, please let me be alone with him. you're only going to make it worse."

lucifer demanded furiously for you to come out or there would be consequences. mammon was yelling that he can protect you and to just unlock the door. in the back, as you focused on the voices, beelzebub began chanting what you knew to be a locking or unlocking spell. you had seen him use it many times when lucifer would lock up the fridge.

quickly you turned to face wrath again. your back pressed against the door, feeling all the brothers beating against your back.

"wrath, cast something on the door to make it unable to open. like that binding spell we learned last week in spells and potions."

wrath let out another highly annoyed sigh, but you felt the door become more stabalized behind your body.

"thank you. can i please talk to satan?"

no response. the tension in the room was nearly tangible. as if you could reach out into the air and feel his glare cut through your fingers.

slowly you inched closer and closer, tutting and scolding gently each time the books began to rise again. having a pact with him at a time like this definitely is handy. but you don't want to command wrath to just leave, that will solve nothing. that will only cause wrath to come back stronger the next time he shows himself.

"do you still want to destroy something?" your words delicate. walking a fine line.

wrath didn't speak, nodding his head slightly. that was enough of a response for you, as you now stood only a mere foot infront of him.

the brothers were still screaming from the other side of the door, you could hear it all the way across the room. for a second you almost felt bad. but this was something only you could do.

with a deep breath, you from memory began reciting a protection spell. this will keep you safe from any physical or magical harm for at most three hours. it would last longer if you had practiced more and focused more energy into it, but again, not important right now.

"if you need to be mean, be mean to me. i'll be fine. wrath or satan."

unfortunately wrath did not hesitate to push satan down even further into the abyss. his hands raised up, palms to the ceiling as the tattered books rose once more.

"go for it. let it out on me. i'm not leaving."

asmodeus: francis forever

i don't need the world to see / that i've been the best i can be / but i don't think i could stand to be / where you don't see me

you never expected asmodeus, the prince of lust, to be quite self critical and concious.

beautiful, worthy of love, perfect as he is. that is how you would describe the man, not the harsh words he thinks of himself. you would expect this kind of anxiety from leviathan, but not asmodeus.

you quickly come to learn that demons can have bad days too.

today was supposed to be a fun self indulgent shopping day, you taking a huge chunk of your pay from hell's kitchen to buy fancy clothes. fashion here in the devildom was extremely different from the human world, and you found yourself quite enjoying it. the fabrics were so colorful and patterned, the designs so elegant and almost royal.

asmodeus seemed like his normal self for the first part of the shopping spree, pulling you from rack to rack and making you try on what he finds. only when he would shove you into a dressing room and go in his own would he falter.

the mirror is a normal one, plainly sat infront of him on the wall. but to asmodeus, it might as well be a clown mirror with how distorted he is seeing himself. his arms look a litte bigger than normal, his shorts don't hug him the way they should. not only is he upset, he is afraid.

afraid that the world is seeing this distorted version of himself. afraid you are seeing it too.

when you come out of your dressing room with a beatiful summery outfit on and knock on his door, he yelps from inside. he was so lost in self destructive thoughts that he jumped at your knocking. too ashamed to go back out like this, he quickly changed into one of the outfits he had grabbed from the rack. its a light blue blouse with some vintage looking ruffles. the shorts he quickly put on are light grey, with a cute belt going around the waist. there were some white socks with the same grey striping the tops, so he shuffled into those as well and opened the door without seeing the mirrors reflection.

(more so, he didn't want to.)

"oh my lord, asmodeus you look so good in that blue! which aisle was that on?"

asmodeus goes into his fake cheerfulness quickly, hoping you don't notice his grin faltering when he 'gives you a twirl'. you look so absolutely stunning in the outfit you had on, the colors and flow making you more beautiful than ever. its as if this outfit were made for you- and asmodeus selfishly feels jealous.

"i think i want to try on some more, meet me back here when you're ready!"

and with that he all but jumps back behind his dressing room door, thankful for the sliver of privacy. he can't let you see him like this- you will think he is weak. that he is broken and everything about him is fake.

"hey asmodeus- i accidentally grabbed a size too big in this skirt. would you go grab another one? pleeeaaasee?" your giddy and laugh filled voice fills his ears from through the thin walls. he sighs in again, jealousy, and says he will come right back with it.

when he returns eventually, you open the door peeking out to grab it. sure asmodeus has seen you half naked many many times, but you don't want other shoppers to see as well. once he hands you the garment you thank him with a quick kiss to his cheek. and as the door is closing, he hears you say that 'i wish i looked as good as you do right now!'

it should be comforting, it should make him feel slightly relieved that you still think of him highly. i mean, for devils sake- half of the items in this outlet are designs he made himself.

so why does he feel so...ugly?

no, the world cannot see him like this. not after they have seen all of his best looks so far. they will remove all his designs and work from stores if he doesn't pull it together and make himself beautiful once again.

so after you try on all your outfits and purchase the ones you like, you two head home; asmodeus is empty handed.

not even when you hand him the most beautiful necklace and say its a gift does he have a real smile.

fake it till you make it, he decides. he will not let you ever see him again if this keeps up. no one will ever see his face again.

beelzebub: once more to see you

then i wouldn't have to scream your name / atop every roof in the city of my heart / if i could see you / once more to see you

just as our big buff demon boy is constantly hungry for food, he is constantly hungry for you.

your smile, your laugh, your presence next to him.

its reminiscent of when lilith were alive, and he had that one comforting shoulder to always slump against. sure he still has belphegor, and his other five brothers, but his bond with lilith was...different. it was as if she was his protector, his lifeline when he needed consolation.

he had never been able to fill the lilith sized hole in his stomach until the day you walked (more like stumbled) into his life.

he now has not just a friend- a best friend, a comfort person, a workout buddy, a midnight snack bring along.

most of all- he now has a lover.

such a delicate, fragile and human shaped lover. one that has promised to never let him suffer alone. but things have been slipping since the day belphegor was broken out of the attic.

you stopped wanting to work out (actually, just with him in particular), and you stopped saying yes to you twos adventures around town to eat everything possible. it was painfully obvious to everyone involved that since he was so close with your ...killer, you kept a distance out of fear and slight annoyance.

fear that it could happen again and beelzebub would protect his twin; annoyance that beelzebub forgave him so quickly for literally taking your life. to you, this was not a matter of anyone forgiving belphegor but you. it just wasn't fair that everyone immediately forgave him when he said sorry, when they all found out you were a descendant of lilith.

so rightfully, you kept your distance. especially with beelzebub.

deep down you were aware it would eat beelzebub alive to not be able to hold you as he used to. but your state of mind and peace mattered more than any demon ever could.

when finally confronted about this, beelzebub came up to you in the kitchen since you both had dish duty. belphegor wasn't with him, but the paranoia still stood firm.

"am i losing you because of what happened?"

without missing a beat, "everyone has. are the rest just more oblivious than you may be?"

beelzebub stands stunned. the dish in his hand is dripping with soap, the wet sponge in his other hand running a trail down his arm.

"i don't want to lose you. when i think about losing you my heart does that thing your stomach does when you are hungry."

at this, its your turn to stand stunned for a second. you knew you had definite feelings for the demon, but thought he was just using you as a replacement sister in place of lilith. hes never been the best with explaining his feelings, but relating it to his stomach pain makes it all too clear to you.

beelzebub is in love with you, maybe more than you are with him at this point. you have a hungry dog on your lead, and he is patiently sat waiting for a treat.

"can i hug you? just one more time?"

your shoulders shrug, afraid to say yes outloud for it may cause a hurricane to swirl inside your eyes.

and beelzebub pulls you closer, not too close though. holds you tight, but not too tight. he is afraid of where he should put his hands and ends up setting on your back and head.

beelzebub wants to scream. he wants the whole world to know how much he utterly and completely aches for you. just once more. let him hold you before you slip from his grip forever.

belphegor: i want you

i found you / i found the door / but when i stepped through / there was no floor / you're coming back / and its the end of the world

belphegor flinched as the sound of your scream resonated through the entire house of lamentation.

it was one of pain, fear. he had heard it many times before. in nightmares of yours, ones of his own, and that one fated day he heard it because of his own actions.

footsteps cut through his thoughts as he saw beelzebub getting up and leaving, presumably going to you. and dear lord belphegor wishes he could go with. but he fears him appearing in real life directly after a nightmare will cause more damage than control.

so belphegor tried to fall back asleep. he was abruptly interrupted when beelzebub reentered the room- but not alone. no, he had for devil knows why brought you back with him. if belphegor knew what an anxiety attack was, that would be what he was slowly experiencing in this moment. frozen in his bed, he tried to squeeze his eyes shut as hard as possible, begging his body to sleep.

"belphegor?"

looks like he's not getting sleep anytime soon. damn it.

he rolls his body over slowly, to see you and beelzebub sat next to each other on his brothers bed. your expression is hard to make out in the dark, but he can sense the fright in your voice. theres no possible way beelzebub could've convinced you to come here, so it must have been your own decision. belphegor doesn't know what to say. so he just stares.

"i'm sorry," is all he can seem to say.

"don't be."

"why? even after you have so gracefully forgiven me and come to be my friend, i still end up tormenting your safest place. your dreams."

for a second you look shocked, not knowing how he knew the nightmares were about him. the only person you had confided in them about was simeon- who had given you a soothing sleep potion to help fight off the nightmares. so how did belphegor find out?

see, the thing is, every single brother, both angels, your wierd sorcerer friend, hell even the lord diavolo himself knows the content of your nightmares. it wasn't that difficult to piece it all together when they had only begun after your 'death'.

realizing you hadn't answered him, even though it wasn't a question, you spoke again.

"i'm not actually afraid of you."

beelzebub seems to feel relieved next to to you as you speak, but you are not finished.

"i'm only afraid of what you can do, belphegor. just like how i'm not afraid of satan, but i'm terrified of wrath."

you wanted to put it into gentle words he would understand. you wanted to have a connection with him, it was just going to be a long bumpy road of healing and acceptance. for both of you.

at this belphegor sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

"so why did you come here? to tell me that?"

beelzebub sat up straighter, moving his legs a bit.

"belphie, they asked if they could come here, 'cuz they said they want to trust you."

belphegor mulled over his brothers words. what did that mean? you trusted him just because you were able to speak to him?

somehow you picked up on his confusion. "will you...put me to sleep..? i mean- you don't have to but, if i can trust you with that it would help. i think."

belphegor is stunned. you, the dear human his brothers adore, want him to help you with something. you, on your own accord, have come to connect with him. he can't fully promise that he will always be there to protect your dreams, but if you will give him this opportunity he will try his best.

you, laying together with belphegor- the demon who has once killed you. you want to trust and come to have a bond with him. just as you have all the other brothers.

but some nightmares are just too much to handle. and maybe it is best if you stay away for a bit longer to deal with it alone.

bonus! mc: fireworks

and then one warm summer night / i'll hear fireworks outside / and i'll listen to the memories as they cry, cry, cry

not a day goes by that you do not miss your seven beloved demon princes.

at first, for a few months after you left, one of them would randomly jumpscare you in your own home with a 'surprise visit'. that usually ends in a scolding and reminder that the d.d.d exists for a reason.

nonetheless, slowly the boys stopped visiting. sure you met up with solomon quite a bit, or even met up with simeon and luke.

it hurt to feel them slipping away, but you only wanted to remember all the good things. no use in holding a match to an already blazing forest fire.

so you started doing things for yourself.

self care (asmodeus had some influence in the particular brands), working hard in your studies, making sure to eat well and use working out as a stress relief. for a while this happy dance of pretending to be getting better helped, made you feel like yourself again.

one particular outing you had planned was to go see a firework show out in a small town next to your own. it was advertised all over the place, so you were determined to go and enjoy the show.

when the day, a mere tuesday, finally arrived- you were ecstatic. elated at the idea of having somewhat of a date with yourself in the town next door. it wasn't going to start until around nine pm, so you had the entire day to prepare and get ready. you may be going alone, but damn all you will be the best dressed there. asmodeus had taught you once some fashion tips to make your outfit really stand out in a good way, and you mixed those tips into tonight's outfit happily.

the drive there was pretty easy, not much really going on in your own town at the moment and lots of cars leaving to go next door for the show.

the breeze was warm- but not the bad kind. rather a comforting kind, as if the wind was hugging you tightly.

many people from your own town were milling about, and you stopped to say hi a few times before settling down into the grass with a blanket.

"mc? hey, what are you doing here?"

a familiar voice. solomons, to be exact.

you were quite excited to see solomon but at the same time- he just reminded you more that you and the boys aren't together anymore.

"i came for the fireworks, why are you here?"

solomon pondered your question for a second before answering. "i don't really know."

you both laughed in somewhat confusion, before solomon explained that he had heard about the show but didn't know why he actually had chosen to come. but that he was glad to see you, glad he came regardless.

he sat with you as you both waited now. there was a bit of small talk, but not much. you two were pretty caught up in each others lives most of the time.

as you two continued chatting and waiting- a call rang through the air. you reached for your phone to see its from your family member, and quickly pick up to see what they want.

though your heart sinks when you hear them crying over the line.

"hey whats wrong? are you okay?"

they attempt to stifle their cries, saying they are sorry.

"my car broke down, i was on my way to the fireworks when the engine just...stopped."

they sound panicked and scared, you know those feelings well. and it isn't exactly safe to be stranded out this late waiting on a car shop to send someone to help. so, you offer to come pick them up. its not too far away, and its only around eight thirty now. the fireworks won't start for a bit.

your family member thanks you relentlessly before you both say your goodbyes and you explain to solomon. he is bummed you have to go, but tells you to hurry back so he has someone to enjoy the fireworks with.

the drive there is relatively easy, your family member not being too far or in a strange spot. their car had broken down right near a gas station, so a kind stranger had at least helped them push the car into the lot.

"(family member name), i'm here," you speak as you walk around the back of their car. but you don't see them in the passenger seat, and assume they might've gone in the gas station. so you go in as well.

the cashier greets you politely, and you ask if he had seen your family member. unfortunately for you, the cashier explains that they had seen them, but that was ten minutes ago when a patrolling cop had come to pick them up and call for a car repairman.

their phone might have died, but you can't help the frustration you feel. its now around eight fourty seven, and the drive back will take you roughly fifteen minutes. its cutting it extremely close, but you are damn well determined to see these fireworks and enjoy a carefree night with solomon. so, you quickly purchase some water bottles and hurry your way back to the car.

its not like luck has ever really been on your side, but tonight seems particularly bad. there is a sudden traffic rush, assumingly people last minute trying to make it to the show. and you are caught up in their hurry. every single light was red, causing you to constantly be stuck waiting to move.

you grab your d.d.d at one long red light and call solomon. he picks up immediately and tells you to hurry back, to which you explain what happened. he sounds almost as frustrated with your family member as you are, consoling you that you won't miss the fireworks. he sits on the phone with you as you drive, keeping you from getting anxious or having to be alone this late.

it isn't until your car clock strikes nine o one that you finally start to see familiar buildings. you have entered the correct area of the town, and now just have to navigate your way back to the park field. telling solomon you're almost there, you decide to hang up so you can focus on driving only.

unbeknownst to you, when you had hung up, solomon was not actually sitting alone anymore. he now had seven guests sitting with him, waiting not for the show- waiting for you.

and it isn't until you hear the first firework go off that you give up.

you park the car, climb out and up, and sit atop it.

you can barely make out the shapes and colors from so far away, but at least you can see them. the breeze has cooled down a bit, pushing against your shoulders and hair. the fireworks are beautiful, even from this distance.

and in some sick way, the universe had given you this exact moment on purpose. you had intended for it to be a date with yourself, and now it truly was.

poor passerby cars are left to just watch your figure in the dark, atop your car. you are thankful for the dark of night for the first time in your life.

because no one can see your tears.

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me reactions #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me angst #lol can u tell how much i project my mental illness #song fic #obey me song fic #obey me x mitski

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aka-indulgence · 3 years

Note

How does robo-skider sans deal with 'problems'? Like with humans he doesn't like with his dear 55?

(Warning: HORROR, like, the genre, not.. ht sans.. dsjkhd, but anyway there IS murder (no gore, but still), so if you dont want that, don’t read!)

Blue eyes gaze through the windows, the home star glimmering in the distance through the blackness of space. A human was walking on the outside of the ship, a sort of advanced "tool-belt" around their middle.

Though they were wearing a suit, Sans knew this wasn't his human. He would've gone with you if he knew you were going out, and he'd know it was you in the suit from having following you around so much.

Though this time, he'd make sure you weren't around. He was sure you were at the living quarters, or maybe at the cafeteria getting breakfast. The rest of the crew should be occupied by now, having experiments to run and other various work. The man walking above is one of them, Sans isn't sure for what he was space-walking at this time, but he doesn't really care.

Crew-Member 4.

Far from the only human he despises, but definitely one that has been getting Sans' attention lately.

"It's not like you actually got fucking hurt, did you? It wasn't even that big." He spat.

Your face was red, and Sans saw your eyes water. "What the hell?! I thought everyone here knows the danger of space debris. Do you remember what happened to Sans?"

"Stop saying that, why did you even give it a name? You treating it like a pet or something?"

"You're not listening to me! Sans lost his leg-"

"You have a suit."

"Sans is made of metal! If it can tear through metal-"

"Ugh, you're so..." No. 4 trailed off, openly expressing his irritation with you. "Your job's simple. All you had to do was fix the exposed panel. Now it's still exposed. Everyone here has something important to do and no one's complaining."

"But-"

"Fine, why don't I do it? Since you're too 'in shock' to do it. I think I need to measure the radiation-disparity soon anyway..."

Sans had stepped in when you tried to argue back and No. 4 looked like he was going to yell. 'Stress-levels', he'd say. No. 4 left the room and Sans got to be alone with you, to comfort you in any way his programming limitations let him.

He’d been watching No. 4 intently since then, though not as obvious as he’d been when he was watching you. He’s aware of the man’s judgement, and Sans was clever enough not to make him think that Sans was following him. Sans was just... observing. His behavioral patterns. Nothing suspicious.

Today, Sans suspects he’s outside to try to “prove” that he can easily do your job while doing his own tasks. The arrogance he reeked... even Sans could smell it.

Sans keeps watching those legs bounding on the outside of the ship until he got to where that unfinished repair was located, and Sans skitters to the airlock.

The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout.

The doors close behind him, and Sans can no longer hear anything- not just the fact that the air has been sucked out and he’s in a vacuum now, but his system turns off his “ears” automatically when he went out the ship. The only communication done outside is through radio. The door to space opens silently, and to a human exiting for the first time it would’ve been eerie.

But Sans isn’t a human, nor is this his first time.

No one could hear the clink of his legs over the ship’s exterior. No one was around to hear it anyway, even if they were right under these panels, all of them were on the other side of the ship.

Right now it’s just him and No. 4.

He was crouched down over the panel you had been fixing about... 7 day cycles ago. The one Sans had so stupidly looked away at that moment, having to fix something else, when he heard you screaming...

... no. 4 doesn’t know how terrifying it must be to lose your tether with no means of reconnecting.

If Sans could scowl, he would now.

Sans stalks closer, rage bubbling underneath his metal outer layer. He knows what he wants to do, what he wants to happen to No. 4, he just... doesn’t know how he’ll do it.

The idiot doesn’t even turn to look at him, Sans feels very lucky in that moment that sound doesn’t travel in space. Sans isn’t too far now, probably on the edge what would be the “circle” his safety protocols would allow him near a human.

... Of course this wasn’t a problem to him anymore, the last time you shut it off to fix him he had “neglected” to remind you to turn it back on.

No, he’s not stopping because of his programming. He stands there, only a bit away from No. 4. Like a predator waiting in ambush, except Sans wasn’t even hiding- there was nowhere to hide. The only reason his prey- No. 4 didn’t notice was his rapt attention on the broken panel in front of him. Broken into pieces that Sans couldn’t pick and clear properly with his size and tools that weren’t made to handle things delicately. It seemed that No, 4 wasn’t sure how to deal with it. He was just staring at it. He didn’t have a replacement. He didn’t even use your E-pad to at least get some sense into what he’s supposed to do.

Sans is partly glad he isn’t using it. The E-pad was yours, and you were somewhat fond of it, it seemed. He wouldn’t want you to lose something you liked.

As Sans stands there, processing a mile a minute on how he should go about this, he suddenly remembers to look up, turning his skull around to inspect the dark ‘sky’.

An alert system in him for when he was outside- compelling him to check for space debris at regular intervals.

And for once, Sans is actually glad to see a couple coming towards the ship where he’s standing. Perhaps from the same cluster that made you lose your footing on the ship.

Sans purposefully took his eyes off of No. 4, off his radar, then swiftly moved outside the range he predicted the space debris would hit. He watched as what seemed to be small chunks of meteorite ‘fall’ towards the ship, feeling them clunk over the metallic plating.

He connects to No. 4′s radio.

“Shit!”

Down came the rain

Sans looks up and sees that No. 4 has lost his footing and is slowly spinning vertically, flailing his arms and legs helplessly as he tries to gain some kind of support, and getting nothing.

Sans would love to spend a little more time watching him panic, but he had to do this quick.

And washed the spider out.

He shot forward, close to the tether, watching the swaying rope with intense eyelights. One hand closes around the rope to stabilize it in front of him, the other one, ready to extend his ‘cutting-claw’ to-

ACTION DENIED!

Object: Tether Rope.

TETHER ROPE IS CURRENTLY IN USE BY CREW-MEMBER 4 OUTSIDE THE SHIP. IF ACTION CONTINUES, CREW-MEMBER 4 WILL BE DISCONNECTED!

His hand stops mid-space, his programming straining against him to keep his hand from touching the rope. He tries to change tactics, extending the cutting claw on his other hand, but his other safety protocols had been activated. He was frozen.

‘Must not harm humans.’

‘Must prioritize human well-being.’

His fingers were trembling as he pushed.

only one human matters.

he is not that human.

he isn’t needed.

dispose him.

He feels as if molten metal had been casted into his joints as he tries to push his hand closer to the tether, with the ‘claw’ extended.

DENIED!

Above him, still connected to the radio, he can hear No. 4 breathing in panic, muttering curses under his breath- before Sans hears a gasp, and he looks up.

No. 4 is looking at him now, Sans can see through the visor, his eyes staring at Sans.

“What the fuck- why’d it have to be him that came for me,” he sounds disdained, filled with disgust.

the feeling’s mutual.

Sans strains harder, his legs locking up as he tries to push his claw closer to the rope- No. 4 obviously not noticing if he thinks Sans is here to help him.

His hand budges closer, then tugged further.

“The hell... are you having a fucking crash or something? Just pull the rope! You have one hand on it!”

Sans knew he should be thankful of his expressionless face, but right now he wishes No. 4 could see that he was seething with anger and hate.

he’s never liked me. nor i, him.

he was always the most vocal in hating me.

he treats me like a scrap of metal.

he probably wants to dismantle me.

No. 4 was still yelling at him, but Sans wasn’t listening. The indignation at the way he’d treated Sans over the course of his time on the ship helped budge his hand a little, but then Sans thought of something else...

Someone else No. 4 had never cared too much for.

he always tried to pressure you into doing something.

he thought you were lower than him.

he thought you weren’t important.

he was dismissive of you.

he liked to mock you.

he yelled at you.

The rage was fueling him in the battle against his programming, trying to override the wall blocking his way to freedom.

No. 4 was yelling at him.

Sans felt like poison was building inside him, from how much he wanted this man dead. But then his thoughts kept drifting away from the instances No. 4 had been rude or insulting to him.

Instead, his ‘memories’ drifted back to when he was in the room when it was only you and No. 4. How hurt and angry you looked, how you just wanted him to understand, and No. 4 had talked over you. Thought your troubles were trivial, that everyone else had ‘more important things to deal with’ and you had ‘an easy job’. When he left Sans saw you cry behind your hands, before quickly rubbing them away and you tried to put a smile on your face when you saw Sans.

No. 4 was yelling at him like he yelled at you.

“Hey you stupid robot!?” No. 4′s loud voice came back to his attention, sounding rather irritated and out of breath from how much he spent shouting. He hadn’t moved from his position on the tether, apparently too lazy to pull himself in and is just waiting for Sans to do what he’s supposed to do.

“Hello, can you hear me?” He asks in the most condescending tone. “I know you can, I’m pressing the radio button. Cut this shit out and pull me back already!”

Sans turned his skull up, away from the tether and right into his eyes.

Ṛ̶̊̐ȯ̵̟b̶̜͒͜ȩ̶̌ȓ̶͇̭t̶̩̉ visibly pales at the glare he sends him.

“... no.”

His claw cuts through the tether, with a little twang up the rope when he forces through the stubborn end.

“Wh... what?” Robert’s horrified, quiet voice was so deeply satisfying to Sans’ non-existent ears.

He feels something bubbling up inside him as he watches Robert frantically try to pull on the rope in vain, though this time the emotion inside him wasn’t anger.

“No... no no no NO!”

It was glee.

“heh.... heheheheh... heheheheheheh!”

Robert was whimpering now, breathing frantically as he drifted further, away from the ship, looking at Sans with horrified eyes.

There were no chains on him anymore. He broke his most sacred rule, and in turn broke the rest of his digital bindings.

The warnings were silent, absent. There was nothing holding him back.

Robert was still, staring at Sans. “No... no this isn’t... this isn’t real, you’re... you’re just an machine, you can’t...”

“oh...” Sans purred, delighting in the fact that he actually purred his words, “but i can.”

The ship was slowly spinning. The nearest star had “risen” and cast a bright light over him and Robert, sharp shadows falling away, forming Sans’ into a horrible stretched version of his body; legs thin and sharp.

Sans tilted his head at the floating figure in the distance, his eyes crinkling in a way he wasn’t able to do in the past. It feels so liberating to be able to show emotion, even just a little bit of expression on his face. It especially felt good when he could see that Robert was shaking in his suit. He knew- Sans was really smiling at him.

“farewell, robert.”

Out came the sun

Robert was screaming now, listening to Sans’ manic laughing through the radio. Music.

And dried up all the rain.

Sans relished in the sounds of him shouting until his words turned into non-sense, which then turned into loud, wracking sobs as he mourned his own death. The oxygen of the suit could last for a few hours- the last few hours he’ll spend drifting further and further from safety.

Oh how he longed to finally see him suffer.

Though his smile was unmoving, it felt more like a smirk as Sans returned to the airlock, letting his radio shift to static for Robert. His last interaction with something ‘living’ being his murderer.

The doors parted, and Sans walks in, back to the ship, as if he was back from usual business.

And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.

#robo skider sans #ask #sinister thoughts #im sorry guys #djhks #i know some of you guys love him #bc hes soft and sweet and cute #hes still all that i assure you #just #with you #this was a long time coming

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inskz · 4 years

Text

lucky charm - lee minho

pairing - lee minho x reader

genre - college!au, best friends to lovers, very cliche fluff (lucky girl starring lindsey lohan kinda vibes???)

words - 4k

note - this is just a cute little drabble i wrote while im still waiting for my covid test results to come back so that i can leave my room and see the sun again 🤪 pls be careful everybody take care of your health 💚 enjoy!!!

- - - - -

“You must be kidding me,” you sigh when you see Minho’s hand has turned into a fist, his rock crushing miserably your scissors. Once again, you lost at rock, paper, scissors. And once again, you’re the one that is going to wash your best friend’s dishes that have piled up in is tiny kitchen sink throughout the week.

“Fuck that. This is so unfair,” you grumble, throwing the dishtowel in Minho’s stupid yet perfectly chiseled face.

You make a beeline for his bed, which is actually only a few steps away from the kitchen. Being a broke college student definitely doesn’t allow him to rent a spacious studio, let alone a two-room apartment. You throw yourself headfirst onto his uncomfortable mattress, whose springs always poke your back at night.

“Life is so unfair,” your friend mocks you, dragging out every vowel of his sentence dramatically.

No doubt, you would be strangling him at that very moment if you weren’t so busy playing dead, hoping he would forget about your pitiful existence.

But there is no way mister Lee Minho would miss out on an opportunity to have his gross plates cleaned by someone else. Grabbing onto your ankle, he drags you out of bed until you plop down on the dirty carpeted floor (Minho has the unfortunate tendency to procrastinate vacuuming too). At this point, you are fake crying, throwing a literal tantrum, like a 6 years old child would.

“Life is unfair!” you yell, your feet kicking in the air in pure anger.

At least it is to you. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been lucky. The only instance you got remotely close to it was when you found a four-leaf clover last summer. Well, only if you disregard the fact you stepped into dog poop on your way to picking it. Oh and that you were wearing brand new white Converse.

On the other hand, it seems like the boy has the whole crew of the Olympus gods on his side. Not one day goes by without his guardian angel manifesting its presence.

Minho has always been the lucky type. The type to get an extra nugget in his box of 10. To find 20 dollars bills on the ground. To win every single Instagram giveaway he participates to (and lord knows how much he likes participating to them).

But how can you be mad at him when he always happily shares his food with you, invites you to the restaurant without you even asking, and gives you his prizes, pretending he doesn’t need them? You don’t believe him when he says he see no use in a panda onesie or a waterproof bluetooth speaker. Deep down, you know it’s his way to silently love you.

But well, you can still blame him for occasionally taking advantage of your misfortune to make you do his dreaded house chores, just like right now.

Everyone thinks you are a bizarre duo. Even you can’t fathom how in hell you two became best friends, considering how awfully your first encounter went three years ago.

On orientation day, he asked you for the time, probably because his phone was dead (or maybe because he was dying to talk to you?)

Without hesitation, you lifted and rotated your wrist so that you could see your watch. Little did you remember; you never actually owned a watch and you were holding a fancy 7 dollars iced coffee, which, of course, did not have a lid on because plastic is bad for the environment (duh).

Minho couldn’t help but burst out in hysterical laughter when the whole drink spilled on your jeans. For your defense, you didn’t sleep at all the night before since you were terrified of being alone in your new dorm room the first few days (weird stuff happens all the time in dorms, okay?). If he had asked you for your name, you probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell him.

But Minho thought you were the funniest person on campus, and he really needed a clown like you to entertain him throughout his endless college semesters. That’s what he told you anyways. Not that he thought you were the cutest human being he had ever seen.

Why would he when you are the literal definition of a mess: always having toothpaste stains on your sweater, bags under your eyes, messy hair, tripping and falling, missing buses, breaking things, losing stuff.

Most of the time, you just forget your keys and Minho lets you crash at his place since he hasn’t got any roommate and he isn’t used to sleeping alone, especially without his cats. It surely isn’t because he loves waking up next to a very groggy but adorable you every single morning, no.

Minho manages to bring you back to the countertop despite your reluctance. Positioned behind you, his arms trapping your body to make sure you can’t run away from your duties, he dips your hands into the soapy water, and you can’t help but squirm at the touch of an unknown substance sticking to a plate that has probably been soaking here for a week. You despise doing the dishes and your friend knows it.

You hear him giggle in your ear while he is playing with your arms like you are some type of marionette, making you to take the sponge and squeeze dish soap onto it.

You’ve never been the kind to like proximity nor seemed to be Minho, but for some reason, you always end up glued to each other. You hate public displays of attention and pet names a little less when it comes from him. Or maybe you don’t hate it at all and actually crave it every single minute that goes by.

Before he has the time to come up with the Machiavellian idea to soak your pajamas in dirty water (because you know he would inevitably have at some point), you yank his hands off of you and start scrubbing angrily the dirty cups.

Minho stays behind you anyways, observing your every move, his chin propped up on your shoulder like a curious little bird. To be honest, his presence is kind of getting overwhelming. But whatever, it’s not like his slightest touch makes your heart warm up in comfort or that he smells like fresh linen drying out on the porch of a cottage house on a sunny Sunday morning or anything.

“You missed a spot. Here” he murmurs teasingly, his lips almost touching your earlobe, while he points at the handle of his hideous ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug Jisung gifted him last christmas.

You know he has noticed the way you shivered violently at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin because he starts snickering loudly.

“I swear to god if you don’t shut up and go seat on the couch, I’ll slap you so hard with this spatula you’ll regret you were even born,” you say, turning around suddenly to menace him with the plastic utensil.

Of course, he isn’t afraid one bit. Right now, you really wish you could make the smug, but oh so attractive, look on his face disappear.

“Alright, ma’am” he laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll let you do your thing”. He lets himself fall onto his dingy couch.

You can hear him humming one of his favorite songs above the sound of the water running. It would probably be getting on your nerves if his voice wasn’t so pretty.

“Chan’s sick, so we’re not going to the gym tomorrow night. Do you wanna eat tacos? El Huero has even better deals than usual” he asks you, scrolling mindlessly through his phone.

“Aren’t the deals supposed to be on Tuesdays?” You frown and scrub a little harder the frying pan Minho has burnt the night before while trying to make chocolate chips pancakes for diner, because why eat savory food when you can have dessert for every meal, right? It is one of the few advantages of living without your parents you both truly enjoy.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Tomorrow,” he yawns, probably exhausted after what you put him through last night. You forced him to catch up on the entire season of Love Island because you desperately needed someone to bitch with, and what better partner than Lee Minho.

You take a quick glance at him and see him stretching himself across the cushions like a cat. You always thought there was something feline about his features. While you’re drying the mugs with the dishtowel, your mind wanders uncontrollably, thinking about his piercing eyes, his delicate nose, the corners of his lips that curl up a little…

All of the sudden, your hands freeze. Minho is too immersed in TikToks to notice the stupor on your face. “Wait. Today is… Monday?” you stutter.

Alarmed by the sound of your voice, his eyes finally leave his phone’s screen to look up at you. “Yeah” he repeats slowly as if you are the dumbest person he has ever encountered.

And you truly are. You are pretty sure your heart has stopped beating. Minho’s “world’s greatest dad” mug you’re holding slips between your fingers and comes crashing on the floor with a deafening sound. The pieces are now scattered all around you, making you unable to make out what’s written on it anymore. Not a big loss, if you ask.

“Y/N, you know that’s my favorite mug!” he exclaims, leaping up from the couch. “I’m sure you did it on purpose,” he mutters while he’s trying to collect the small fragments, in vain.

But you’re too shocked at this very moment to pay attention to the glare your friend is giving you. To be honest, Minho has only two moods: glaring at you or teasing you.

“My interview,” you finally manage to say, and Minho’s eyes go wide as he realizes the critical situation you’re in.

You check the time on the microwave: 10:45. In 30 minutes, you’re supposed to be on the other side of town, being interrogated by boring businessmen that are going to decide whether or not you’ll be accepted for a paid internship in one of the most reputable music label of the country. Basically, decide whether you’ll live a happy and fulfilling life, working in the sector you’ve always dreamed of or end up miserable with a boring office job and a massive college debt.

“Holy shit,” Minho whispers. You can see a wave of panic washing across his face for a split second, but, as always, he manages to find his composure back immediately.

He has never been the kind to lose his cool, except to scold you when you forget the names of his cats and their respective coats’ color (which you unfortunately often did forget).

“What are you doing? Get dressed!” He tells you when he sees you’re still standing there dumbfounded in the kitchen, like the famous Robert Pattinson meme, wearing an oversize Kermit the frog shirt with a dozen holes in it and his favorite Adidas sweatpants you always stole from him.

“No, it’s too late. I can’t make it,” you mutter, your breath short. You’re paralyzed, as if there is a 20lbs rock sitting at the bottom of your stomach, pinning you to the ground.

This isn’t bad luck, you think. This is karma. This is what you get for skipping classes to watch telereality shows in your bed with your best friend and not even realizing it isn’t the weekend anymore.

“Miss me with that bullshit.” He runs to his closet and rummages through his drawers, throwing every piece of clothing that’s on his way to find an appropriate outfit that would fit you.

“You’re gonna go do this interview even if I have to drag you all the way there.” He pushes you into his bathroom since you still haven’t moved an inch.

You manage to brush your teeth and your hair, fighting through the nauseous feeling that is building up in your tummy.

When you come back to the living room, Minho has found dress pants and a sweater that might not look utterly ridiculous on you. He lets you change in a corner, while he runs around the room collecting all your essentials.

“You’re coming?” you ask him when you see he is already wearing his puffer jacket.

“You really think I’m gonna let you go all by yourself when you’re literally not even able to put your shoes on properly”. You are, indeed, struggling with your laces, as if your fingers are suddenly made out of butter.

Minho ties them up for you and you literally feel like he’s your babysitter. You know you’re gonna hear about this for months – what are you saying- years! But all you can think about at the moment though, is the fact that sneakers are definitely not appropriate for an interview.

He throws your warmest coat at you, grab his keys, and by some type of miracle, you’re both out to the door in less than 10 minutes.

You try to call the elevator, but Minho grabs your arm and leads you to the staircase. His hand never leaving yours, he runs down the stairs and you have no choice but to follow him as fast as you can.

You can’t count how many times you missed a step and fell at this particularly slippery spot, between the 5th and the 4th floor, but weirdly enough, it doesn’t happen today.

When you finally reach the ground floor, you exit the complex and Minho hops on his old and rusty bike that he had attached to nearest tree the night before.

“There’s no way I’m riding behind you on this death machine,” you laugh nervously. The memory of that one time Minho convinced you to seat into his bicycle basket (as if you could even realistically fit in it) and you both fell seconds after he started to pedal is coming back to your mind.

Sure, it was after a long night of drinking, you were both tipsy and it was the only way to get you home since you had spent all your uber money at the bar, but still! You’re pretty sure the bruise on your butt hasn’t disappeared to this day.

“Hurry up,” Minho groans, ignoring your complaint. You unwillingly seat on his flimsy pannier rack and wrap your arms around his torso.

You haven’t even left, yet you’re already holding onto his puffer jacket for dear life. A giggle escapes your friend’s mouth (which you think is very inappropriate in such a desperate situation) before he lifts his feet off the ground and starts pedaling.

You try to ignore the loud squeaking of the bicycle drive by shutting your eyes tighter and rehearsing your introduction you have prepared over and over in your head. No matter how hard you are trying, you can’t remember what you are supposed to say just after your age (which, as you can imagine, isn’t really far into your monologue).

By the way the wind is lashing your face, you can tell Minho has picked up the speed. His breathing is getting louder, his heartbeat faster and you can’t help but think you’re probably way too heavy for him to bike you around like that. Maybe he shouldn’t skip his gym sessions with Chan so often. Or maybe you shouldn’t have eaten the leftover pancakes for breakfast after all.

You find the courage to open your eyelids and are pleased to see you’re already halfway there, probably because every single one of the traffic lights you encounter is green, and your friend is going surprisingly fast. Is luck finally starting to smile upon you?

Your mad race comes to a halt when you reach the address of your interview. You hop off the bike and so does Minho who, by the way, is a panting mess. He’s barely able to catch his breath, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, but he’s beaming at you when he realizes you’re just on time.

“Go” he gasps, pushing you in the direction of the building’s hall.

You walk up to the glass door but as your hands are about to push it, you pull a 180. Your friend sighs loudly, already knowing what’s coming next.

“Wait. No. I can’t do this. I’m not prepared” you tell him frantically. “I’m freaking out. I think I’m gonna pass out.” You are now walking in circles, mumbling incoherently.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Your heart is racing in your chest and your hands are getting clammy at the simple thought of failure. But guess what? You can’t fail if you don’t even try! One more good reason to just go back to bed and forget about your sad life for a good 8 hours, right?

“Y/N, you’re the most talented person I know, you’re gonna do just fine” Minho catches you in his arm to stop your endless pacing. You would probably think this gesture is endearing if it wasn’t just meant to make sure you couldn’t run for your life.

“No, I’m not. What if I throw up in front of everybody like that one time during the Romeo and Juliet musical?” You look up at him and his face is only inches away from yours. You’re sure you would be swooning at how beautiful he looks if you weren’t so terrified at this very moment.

“You were nine,” your best friend says, and you swear you have never heard him speak to you in such a sweet tone before. His voice is like honey and lavander but it doesn’t soothe you like it should.

You manage to break free from his embrace to crouch down, in an attempt to slow down your breathing. If only you had data left, you could be watching those short relaxing videos on your phone. They always work. But no, you had to spent it all on online games, just one week into the month. You really are beyond help.

“Y/N I know you’re scared, but if you miss out on this opportunity, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your life.” Minho is lowering himself so that you can hear him, even though you’re curled up in a ball.

“And I’m warning you, I won’t want to hear you complain about it,” he adds, this whole situation obviously starting to get on his nerves.

If you were him, you would have probably left a long time ago. But this isn’t your best friend’s way of behaving. You know he would never abandon you no matter how annoying you could be (and you could be very annoying sometimes). After all, he is always the one holding your hair while you puke in the toilets when you had a couple too many drinks.

It takes all your willpower to stand up but there is no other way, you have to do it. You can hear the time ticking dangerously in your mind, as if your brain had turned into a clock.

“You’re right. Slap me,” you say, looking at him straight in the eyes, dead serious.

“Wha -“

“Slap some sense into me. They do that in movies when people are panicking. It’s like throwing a bucket of cold water in someone’s face. But clearly we don’t have a bucket and we don’t have cold wa- “ you start blabbering.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not gonna slap you!” Your friend isn’t usually that horrified at the thought of beating your ass. In fact, he has felt the desire to rip your head off more than once, especially when you’d steal all the duvet at night, but at this moment he is just scared you might have actually lost your mind.

“Just fucking do it Minho!” you scream, your hands clenching the front of his grey hoodie he always looks so divine in.

Minho has never obeyed you, and this is not the day he is going to start.

He puts both of his hands on the sides of your face and crashes his lips onto yours.

You would be lying if you said you have never imagined the day your best friend would kiss you. It happens pretty much every single time you look at his cute pout a little too long. But one thing is certain, it isn’t like you pictured it to be at all.

You were convinced your heart would go so wild it would burst out of your chest and your head would spin so furiously you’d lose your balance. You thought your stomach would fill with butterflies to the brim and your whole body would be on fire.

But none of that is happening. On the contrary, every single muscle in your body relaxes under his touch. The way his soft mouth presses gently against yours makes you calmer, almost at peace amongst all this turmoil.

Minho is kissing all your tension and stress away and you catch yourself letting a sigh of relief escape your parted lips.

As if you have kissed him already hundreds of times in your past life, Minho feels like home. He’s a safe haven you can always take refuge in during troubled times. Ever since the day you met, he has never left your side.

When he breaks away from the kiss, you notice your breath isn’t so ragged and your mind isn’t so foggy anymore. You’re serene. His cold hands are still cupping your face, slightly squishing your cheeks, and you feel like an idiot sandwich for asking him to slap you seconds before.

“That can work too, I guess…” you mutter.

“You’re okay?” he asks, staring at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

You just nod, unable to say one more word, and sprint to the entrance, not wanting to make your interviewers wait any longer than they already have.

“Good luck!” You hear him yell just before the door closes behind you and you can’t help but grin from ear to ear.

- - - - -

Thirty minutes later, you finally step out of the fancy lobby to find a very bored Minho leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for you.

“You’re still here?”

“Of course, I am,” he says, his mouth full of croissant. He gives you a large iced coffee he probably went buying to kill time. Your lips unconsciously curl up into a smile when you notice it comes from the same chain that the one you spilled on your lap on the day you first met him.

“How did it go?” he asks you, sticking his buttery pastry into your mouth so that you can take a bite.

“Way better than I thought” you answer, right after you swallowed. You hate the way flakes would always get stuck between your teeth. But Minho is always there to warn you about it before anyone else notices, and even pick them for you if you can’t manage to, which, when you think about it, is kind of gross.

There are two things the boy knows about you: you’re the greatest pessimist on earth and you’d rather die than admit you were wrong (especially if it meant he was right). So for you to even say it wasn’t that bad, means it went phenomenal.

“I don’t want to say ‘I told you so’ but I told you so.” He smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes anymore. You have to look away, otherwise you know you might become instantly blinded by love.

“Maybe I could use some more of your luck” you mumble, staring at your shoes and kicking the red leaves that were surrounding your feet on this sunny autumn morning.

“Really? And what makes you think I’ll share it with you,” he teases you, leaning forward to incite you to look at him in the eyes.

“That.”

Your hand finds the back of his neck and pulls him in, in order to close the space that is still left between your mouths.

At first, Minho stiffens, taken aback by your bold move. But soon enough, he caves into your touch. He kisses you back fervently, like he means it.

His fingers entagle in your hair, his arm wraps around your waist and his chest presses against your body. You’re melting in his embrace, submerged by a wave of bliss which he alone seems to know the recipe.

It feels new, yet so familiar. Like it was supposed to happen, like it was written in the stars.

He tastes like croissant and Americano. Like fortune and fate.

And you can’t help but think you’re the luckiest person on earth.

Who cares about winning the lottery when Lee Minho is your lucky charm?

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valdomarx · 3 years

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Number Theory

On another version of Atlantis, John is a mathematician who is better with numbers than with people. But he's going to have to learn to get on with his team and their bossy leader, Rod, if he wants to survive here.

Stargate Atlantis, McShep, mensa!verse, 9k, rated E.

Also on AO3.

Dr. John Sheppard straightens his glasses, pulls his lab coat around himself, and makes one final, futile attempt to tame his hair.

He takes a last look around the SGC, bustling with scientists and marines and boxes of supplies, and wonders how everybody seems to know their place and what to do already.

Then he steps through a wormhole and into another galaxy.

Atlantis is stunning. Terrifying, and dangerous, and liable to kill them all, but stunning all the same.

He protests that there’s no need for a mathematician on an offworld team, but the head of science insists. John sourly suspects this Rod guy enjoys watching him wheeze and stumble every time they have to run for their damn lives.

But it turns out it’s useful for a field team to have someone around who can crack codes and work computers. And John hates field work less than he expected to, despite the unpredictability and the peril and all that awful running.

Sometimes, like when he breaks the encryption on a Wraith code in the nick of time and diverts an enemy ship away from its path toward Atlantis, he even feels a tiny bit like a hero.

Other than his team duties, though, Atlantis isn’t that much different from Caltech or MIT or the Air Force base at Wright-Patterson, or any of the other places he’s worked.

Everyone knows each other, except for him. Everyone bands together to look out for each other, and he stares in from the outside. Eating in the mess hall is like being catapulted back to high school.

So he makes himself at home in his lab. It’s quiet there, and there’s a plentiful supply of coffee, and there are only a couple of other mathematicians who occasionally pass through and largely leave him alone.

They’re next door to the noisy, boisterous science labs, where all the cool civilians hang out. But that’s fine. He gets used to ignoring them the same way he ignores the marines.

It’s just him and his numbers.

And sometimes, inexplicably, Rod or Teyla or Ronon, who will come by and sit at his desk and drink his coffee. He never understands what they’re hoping to achieve, but he doesn’t mind as long as they don’t touch anything.

Teyla appears in the doorway, staring at his whiteboard. It’s covered top to bottom with equations, and he’s had to stick up bits of paper around the walls to fit more on.

“Rod requested that I see how your work is going,” she says, voice giving nothing away.

He grits his teeth against the annoyance of the interruption. “It would be going faster if I could work unimpeded.”

She ignores the petulant note in his voice, squinting closer at the whiteboard. “What is this?”

“This is number theory. It’s the underlying basis for mathematics.”

Teyla raises an eyebrow. “And this is different from what Rod does?”

He sneers. “Very different. That’s just theoretical physics.”

“You do not respect Rod’s chosen field?” She seems genuinely curious.

“It’s fine, for, you know,” his lip curls, “an applied science.”

“I see. So this work can help us locate Wraith hive ships?”

He shifts his weight. “Well. I might need to, uhh, collaborate with Rod on that. I provide the conceptual models and he does the,” he waves dismissively, “practical calculations.”

“It seems that you two accomplish more when you work together.”

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t go that far. But he’s useful as an assistant, I suppose.”

When they learn there are three Wraith hive ships on their way to destroy the city, there isn’t much time for personal conflicts. They have a long-shot strategy: They’ve sent an emergency distress message in the vague hopes of rescue from Earth. But the Wraith ships are almost here and they need a plan now.

“Use the jumpers,” John suggests, because it’s obvious.

Rod snaps his fingers. “Yes! Put a nuclear warhead on board, fly the jumper right down the hives’ throats, and detonate.”

Elizabeth blanches. “That’s a suicide run.”

“No, no.” John thinks out loud. “Not if we can remote pilot the jumper.”

“Using the control chair!” Rod chimes in. “Sheppard, you’re a genius.”

John is so focused on the threat he forgets to preen over that.

It doesn’t take long for them to hook up the jumper to the chair and start running tests. Just as well, because death from above is coming imminently.

He knows something is wrong the moment Rod’s face falls while he’s poking at the cables running to the chair.

“McKay...” he says, voice low but insistent.

“I know! I know. Just give me a minute.” Rod disappears back into a bundle of cables. “I can fix this.”

Everything is suddenly, startlingly clear. The remote control won’t work, at least not in time. Someone will have to fly the jumper personally.

He and Rod both have the ATA gene, and both the same dubious piloting skills. But there’s not much skill required in flying directly into a hive, is there?

One of them has to do this.

“So long, Rod.” He turns and runs from the chair room to the jumper bay, not bothering to notify anyone of his plans.

“Sheppard! Sheppard!”

He hears Rod yell after him but he can’t think about that now. He has a job to do.

He gets beamed out by the Daedalus at the last moment. The battle is ugly, but the city and the expedition makes it out mostly intact.

Afterwards, Rod drags him into a conference room and yells at him for an hour about his reckless behavior.

John couldn’t give a shit. He has no regrets about his actions.

He gives an insouciant shrug. “Why the earful? It worked, didn’t it?”

“Because I am your team leader, and you didn’t even ask me for permission before nominating yourself for a suicide run!”

“That’s what this is about? Your precious chain of command? Grow up.”

Rod rounds on him and gets up on the balls of his feet. “There are people here who care about you, you dick!”

John blinks at the non sequitur. The idea that anyone would care more about him than about the city and everyone else in it is laughable. “Then they’re idiots,” he snaps and walks out.

Rod can write him up for that in one of the reports he so enjoys filing.

It would be nice if he could say that he learns and grows. That he makes friends. That he gets accepted by his peers and makes a home in the Pegasus galaxy.

But that’s not how this story goes. Not yet, anyway.

He does manage to make himself useful. He invents a new cryptographic algorithm to keep their computers and communications secure from Wraith interference. Elizabeth even gives him a grateful nod when he presents it to her, and says thank you.

He makes some progress on a quantum chaos approach to the Riemann hypothesis, not that anyone here understands that or how profoundly ingenious his work is.

And it turns out that many of the Ancient systems here are based on binary, just like computers on Earth, so he’s able to help Rod parse some of the more complex code. The two of them spend hours poking through the Ancient operating system, Rod fluttering around and theorizing aloud while John sits quietly in the corner, chewing on a pen and thinking.

It’s more fun than he would have expected.

And then, inevitably, he fucks up to a new and truly epic degree. He and Rod find the Ancient’s Project Arcturus, their great hope for extracting vacuum energy from subspace, and he convinces himself he can get it to work.

He’s self-aware enough to know he’s making poor choices, but not mentally strong enough to do otherwise. Because yes, of course virtually unlimited power is tempting, and of course discovering the last great experiment of the Ancients is thrilling. But he's a cautious person. He's not one to take unnecessary risks.

And yet the moment Rod turns to him with that look of delight, saying he's impressed, clapping him on the shoulder like he's done something wonderful, John is just gone. He ignores safety limits and all common sense, and he pushes and pushes and pushes for them to power up the generator, as if his wishes for it to work could make it so.

He wipes out most of a solar system with his hubris, not to mention nearly killing them both, and he's furious down to his bones because he can't figure out why he would have done something so stupid.

Bad enough to fail so spectacularly at your work that you devastate an entire star system, worse to have burned whatever credibility you may have built with your team, but worst of all to have to walk every day among people who know all about your inadequacy.

He's in the queue for the mess and a couple of the marines behind him are sniggering, one of them making a not-very-quiet crack about Sheppard’s ego being a weapon of mass destruction. John is staring straight ahead and pretending to ignore them, but the blood is pumping furiously in his ears and he's gripping his tray so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

“You got something to say?” Suddenly Ronon is there, all six-foot-three-million-pounds of him, glaring down at the sniggering marine like he might crush his skull with his bare hands. “If you’ve got something to say to Sheppard, you can say it to me as well.”

The marine backs away, hands held high and spluttering apologies.

Ronon throws an arm around John’s shoulder and walks him to a table so they can sit and eat.

John stares down at his food and wills the panic to subside. “Thanks,” he mutters once his breathing has settled.

“No worries, bud,” Ronon says and steals a piece of carrot off John’s plate. “So, how’s that bomb design you were working on coming along? You know I love a big boom.”

John tells him how his models have predicted the highly energetic variety of naquadah they’ve discovered could be harnessed into more efficient field explosives, and Ronon nods along as if this is all fascinating.

In that moment, John knows he would die for this man without hesitation.

Perhaps the worst part about the Arcturus incident is how unbearably nice Rod is about the whole thing. He tells John that it was both of their decision, that he doesn't blame him, that sometimes these things happen when dealing with advanced technology.

But John can see the disappointment in his eyes and hear the judgement in his voice. He gets a sick, twisting feeling in his stomach when he thinks about it, and that must be Rod's fault.

Rod picks a bad time to come visit the lab.

"Sheppard," Rod leans against the door frame. "I need your report on the Arcturus mission."

The sick feeling in his gut deepens. He hasn't written the report yet. "Bet you’re enjoying making me catalogue my failures."

"What? No. I just need you to submit a report so I can turn it over to Elizabeth."

"I see. You're looking for someone to blame, right? Going to write about how I pushed you and it's all my fault?"

"Of course not," Rod steps closer and there isn't enough air in the room. "I wouldn't do that. What's going on with you?"

He can't bear the look of concern on Rod's face, which he surely doesn't deserve and will surely evaporate soon enough. "Maybe I've had enough of you reminding me of my screw ups via the excuse of paperwork."

Rod's voice sharpens. "Don't blame me because you're feeling guilty. I can't deal with that for you."

The reminder of his lacking emotional skills stings and he lashes out. "Don't try to therapize me. You're hardly in the position to be doling out life advice." It's a mean, petty thing to say, but he's feeling vindictive.

Rod's eyes narrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

John's pulse is notching up and his face is getting hot, the last of his short temper fraying away.

“You’re a people pleaser, Rod!” He realizes he’s yelling. He doesn’t care. “Everything you do is to make other people like you.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Rod puffs up. “I try to be a decent human being. I try to think about others and support them. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s fake! It’s all bullshit. Do you even have a personality of your own, or do you just reflect whatever the last person who smiled at you wants?”

Finally, the cracks in the facade of nice begin to show. “Making an effort to treat those around you with consideration isn’t demeaning!” He gets up in John’s face, waving a finger at him. “Not that you’d know, because you never consider anyone other than yourself.”

“At least I’m honest,” he spits, and it’s venomous. “At least I know who I am. Do you? Do you have any idea who you’d be if you weren’t so absorbed in distracting everyone from your flaws?”

He sees the barb hit its mark. Rod stumbles back like he’s been physically shoved, his face crumpling.

“God, you’re an asshole.” It’s not even angry. It’s small, and quiet, and John is suddenly acutely aware of how much taller he is than Rod, how much he towers over him.

Rod turns on his heel and walks away, and John knows that means he’s won. But he doesn’t feel the usual curl of smug satisfaction he gets when he puts someone in their place.

Instead, he just feels empty.

Whatever. It’s not his problem that Rod is having some kind of breakdown. Why should he care that Rod is skulking around the base looking small and miserable? He only said what they both know to be true.

If Rod wants to be a dick about it, that’s on him. If he’s going to remove John from the team, that’s fine. There’s nothing that John can do about it anyway.

He gets back to work, running simulations of ZPM power levels and how long they can expect to sustain the city under different circumstances, given that they won’t be enjoying unlimited power any time soon. He likes modelling, and he knows this work is important.

But for some reason he can’t focus. His gut keeps churning and his temples ache and he’s haunted by the word worthless, worthless, worthless.

When his lab door chimes at well past midnight, he’s ready to tell whoever it is to fuck right off. In fact, the excuse to yell at someone sounds great right now.

But when he opens the door to find Rod standing there, twisting his hands anxiously, he’s too shocked to even be snitty. He’d assumed that Rod and he were done, that it was only a matter of time before he was kicked off the team.

But here Rod is, mouth downturned and saying, “You were right, okay?”

John notes the sad wobble of Rod’s chin and bites back the urge to say something dismissive. “About what?”

“About me. I do try to please everyone. I do want everyone to like me.”

It sounds pathetic, said out loud like that, John thinks but doesn’t say.

Rod is still going. “But it’s not what you think. It’s not some ego trip. When I was younger, I used to be -” He lets out a huff of air. “- very different. I said whatever I wanted to whoever I wanted, and I didn’t care if everyone hated me for it.”

John tries to imagine an angry, mean Rod. His brain can’t picture it.

“I pushed people away because I was afraid they’d reject me. I was always alone and I got very good at telling myself I liked it that way.”

An uncomfortable feeling of familiarity crawls up the back of John’s spine, and he ruthlessly quashes it.

“That changed when I went to the SGC. The people there… They believed in me. They wanted my help, and they wanted to help me. I learned that if I was going to work there, to do important work, then I was going to need connections. And to make connections, I had to think about others, and try to be what they needed. It wasn’t only about me any more.”

Something in the preachy tone of Rod’s voice sets John on the defensive, and his shoulders begin to rise, counterarguments springing to his lips.

“Wait, stop -” Rod lays a hand on his shoulder, and all the aggression leeches out of him. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m just trying to explain.”

The earnest look Rod is giving him makes his skin itch.

“I care about everyone here. Including you, John. Perhaps I try too hard sometimes, but that’s only because you all matter to me. I don’t want to let you down.”

Rod is talking in plurals, but John gets the impression he’s speaking to him personally. It’s too weighty, to be handed that kind of sincerity without warning.

“I do...” He coughs and looks at his feet, “I do care about the people here as well. I might not be demonstrative about it but I’m not…” he searches for the right word, “... indifferent.”

He doesn’t say the other words he’s thinking, which are cold, callous, heartless, the things people always call him.

Rod’s hand is still on his shoulder, heavy and warm, and he squeezes gently. “I know you do. I just wish that sometimes you’d let other people see that too.”

John tries. He really does. Ronon tells him that he needs to get out of the lab more, so he resolves to make time to socialize. He doesn’t really know how to do that, but Teyla quietly slides him a copy of the city’s social activity schedule and suggests he goes through the list.

Painting with Major Lorne - no.

Choir with the medical staff - sounds awful.

Extra combat training - absolutely not.

Mensa club - now there’s a possibility.

“Join us for FUN and FRIENDS,” the tiny advert reads. “All welcome (as long as your IQ is over 150).”

That he can do. He joins the club.

It's him and Kusanagi from R&D and Parrish from botany, plus a couple of the gate techs and one of the nurses from medical. Every Thursday night, they get together to solve puzzles and play chess. It's dorky and awkward but it's kind of nice, actually, and the people there don't seem to dislike him.

He thinks maybe he's getting better at this whole people thing.

And then Rod leaves, and everything goes to shit.

It starts off with a crisis, like there always is around here, exotic particles exploding out of a containment chamber which isn’t containing anything. There’s chaos, but there’s also data, so it doesn’t take long before he and Rod are turning to each other as the explanation clicks for both of them at the same time: An experiment to generate vacuum energy being conducted in a parallel universe.

“We can’t do anything from this side,” John reasons. “The bridge is one-way.”

“The inhabitants of the other universe might not even know what the effects here are. We need to go there directly and get them to shut it down,” Rod says, firm and sure. “It’s the only way.”

“But how could we-”

Rod snaps his fingers. “The Ancient shield. That’ll protect whoever travels there.”

“Right. Let me run some calculations.”

His head is buried in his computer when Rod comes running back in with the shield in his hand.

“Fire it up whenever you’re ready,” Rod orders. “I’ve got the shield to protect me.”

John’s head whips up. “You? You’re going?”

“Of course me! Come on, the chance to visit an alternate reality? Who could resist that?”

Icy cold water settles at the pit of John’s stomach. “That’s a one-way trip.”

Rod shrugs, like that’s nothing. “If that’s the cost to save our universe, it’ll be worth it.”

Something like rage explodes inside John’s head. “Absolutely not! I should be the one to go.” He searches desperately for a reason. “You’re needed here.”

Rod gives him a small, sad smile and says, “So are you.”

“That’s bullshit, McKay, and you know it. I’m not letting you do this.”

“Tell you what, let’s flip a coin for it.”

And that’s about as reasonable as he can hope for, so he turns his back to dig a coin out of his lab coat pocket.

That turns out to be a mistake.

“Be safe, John,” Rod says, then he activates the shield and steps into the containment chamber.

That bastard.

He spends three days thinking that Rod is gone for good.

He can’t… He can’t think, and he can’t sleep, and he’s angry all the time. When Zelenka asks for his help running calculations on the spacetime tear above the city John bellows at him, calls him incompetent, and says they might as well just accept that the city is going to be torn apart. Then he stays up all night doing the calculations anyway, because it’s better than lying in bed and staring at the ceiling for another interminable evening.

He doesn’t bother eating, or showering, because what’s the point if they’re all going to die within a week? There’s a restless, raging scratching under his skin and it’s not like he hasn’t faced the possibility of death before, but this feels bleak and empty and insurmountable in a way he simply can’t deal with.

And then the rift mends itself, and Rod returns on a beam of light, and everyone acts as if they’re back to normal now and that brush with annihilation was just one of those quirky things that happen in the Pegasus galaxy.

But it eats at John, that feeling of powerlessness, that rippling anger of a problem he couldn’t solve.

Rod slides back into life in the city like it was nothing but another mission, and everyone rushes to say how brave he was, what a hero, how selfless he is, and John’s blood boils.

Rod swings by John’s lab with his usual breezy demeanor.

“Hey Sheppard! Wanna grab some dinner?”

The incongruity of Rod in his doorway, smiling casually like this is just another Tuesday, sends something hot and sharp spiking through his brain. “No,” John snarls. “Busy.”

“Okay. How about tomorrow?”

“Busy then too.”

Rod gives a self-deprecating little smile, and John wants to wipe it off his face. “Too busy to make an hour for your team?”

“A team?” he spits. “Is that what we are?”

Rod pales, finally taking in how furious John is. “Of course we are. I thought, since I’m back now, we could -”

“Oh, so you stride back in and decide to grace us with your presence, and we’re supposed to be thankful for that?”

“John, what -”

“You left!” he explodes. He’s shocked by his own vehemence. “You left us all. You weren’t planning to come back and you just left.”

Rod takes half a step forward, his face doing something complicated. “John, listen. I never wanted to-”

“Go fuck yourself!” He shoves at Rod’s shoulders, hard enough to keep him at a distance. He needs space; he needs quiet; this is all too much. “We don’t want you here anyway. You should have stayed in that other dimension. I’m sure it was great there.”

“That’s not-”

“Shut up, McKay.” He tunes his voice to the iciest, most dismissive tone he has. “You should have stayed gone.”

He enjoys a mean spark of satisfaction at the way Rod’s face falls, then he storms out of the lab.

Fuck that guy anyway.

Everyone on the base keeps looking at John like he’s volatile, as if he’s about to blow at any minute. Even his team starts handling him with kid gloves, like he’s fragile, and he hates it so much he could scream.

He meticulously constructs the bubble of hostility which has long been his go-to when he needs people to leave him alone. He snaps and snarls, and perfects a glare so hostile that no one dares approach him.

It’s restrictive inside that bubble, but at least it’s stable. At least he gets to decide the reason why people are going to hate him.

A few days later, Teyla strides into his lab wearing her patented “take no shit” expression.

“John,” she says, and the false cheery brightness of her tone has him scared already. “You will join me for tea.”

This is not, he recognizes, a request. He begins to mumble excuses but she cuts him off without hesitation. “You will come to my quarters, and we will drink a mug of tea together.” She crosses her arms. “Now.”

There are battles you can win, and ones you cannot. This is most certainly the latter, so he meekly follows her as she sweeps out of the lab and back to her quarters.

Once inside, Teyla forces him into a chair with an excessively firm hand.

“Sit,” she orders.

It’s easier to do as she says.

She carefully prepares the tea and warms the earthenware mugs, strong hands making practiced, confident movements. John watches the motions as she pours the tea and slides a mug over to him.

“Drink,” she orders, and again it’s easier to obey.

The tea is soapy and bland, but he fears her retribution enough not to mention that. He sips as they sit in silence. She regards him heavily over her mug.

Eventually she reaches some kind of conclusion.

“You are a valued member of our team, John.” Her face is impassive but her words are warm. “We would not see harm come to you.”

“That’s. Uhh. Good.”

“But your behavior of late has been,” she narrows her eyes, “ill-advised.”

John opens his mouth to defend himself, because it’s not as if Teyla could understand what’s been going on. But she holds up a hand which stops him short.

“I do not care to listen to your justifications. But you should know that if you continue on the path you have been on, it will be to the detriment of us all.”

John feels like he’s been pulled into the principal’s office to be scolded like a schoolboy. He didn’t care for that shit when he was ten, and he certainly doesn’t care for it now.

“If that was all,” he pushes the mug away and gets to his feet, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait.” Teyla’s hand shoots out with a warrior’s accuracy and closes around his wrist. “I am concerned for the team, yes. But I am also concerned for you. I would like to think that we are…” she tilts her head, “friends. And I should like for you to be happy.”

John is embarrassed to find a lump forming in his throat. He’s never truly had a friend before, and that someone of Teyla’s stature and courage would consider him as such has him flabbergasted. He suddenly wants, very badly, for her to think well of him.

“I’ll try harder,” he says. “I’ll try to be better.”

She releases his wrist and gives him a generous smile.

“That is all any of us can do.”

He starts small.

He saves up a few of the precious Earth-imported cookies they get for dessert in the mess sometimes and brings them to the next Mensa club night. Kusanagi beams and says that was very thoughtful of him, and Parrish splits a chocolate chip cookie with him while they speed-solve sudokus.

The next day he types up a report about the team’s most recent mission with as much detail as he can remember, and he makes special note of how brave Rod and Teyla and Ronon were.

He saves it to a flash drive and takes it to Elizabeth himself.

“What’s this?” she asks as he hands it over.

“Mission report,” John says, eyes fixed on a tapestry hanging behind her desk.

“Submitting a report without having to be asked five times first? Who are you and what have you done with Dr. Sheppard?”

Anger flashes for a moment, because he’s trying here and she doesn’t need to remind him of his past failings. But he looks down and sees she’s smiling. It’s a joke. She’s joking around with him.

Huh. Okay. That’s unfamiliar, but he doesn’t hate it.

“Maybe I’ve slipped in from an alternate dimension,” he says, and even though that’s not very funny Elizabeth laughs anyway, and that makes something glow inside him.

He grudgingly admits to himself that there does seem to be a pattern developing: when he makes an effort to connect with people here and, god help him, be nice to them, then they are happy and so is he. When he yells and pushes people away, they are sad and he is angry.

It’s sort of obvious, really, and he would be embarrassed that it’s taken him so long to figure that out, but humans are bizarre and complicated and not at all like numbers.

He has a hypothesis and now he needs to test it. He should try being more considerate to those closest to him and see if that improves everyone’s moods. If only he could figure out how to do that without the entire experience being mortifying.

He’ll work on Ronon first, he determines. Ronon has always looked out for him and they have a sort of unspoken bond. Finding something nice to do for him should be simple enough.

He decides on a data-driven approach. He takes to following Ronon around, looking for inspiration, trotting after him with a small notebook in hand to record his observations. Ronon finds the whole thing hilarious.

Ronon spends approximately 40% of his free time in the gym, which certainly is a lot, and a further 30% in the mess. Another 10% of the time he goes running around the city, and the remainder of his time is spent visiting with Teyla, stopping by the science labs to tease Rod, or visiting John.

“You like people,” John observes one day, when Ronon is warming up for a combat session with some of the marines. He’s added up the figures and plotted the data into neat hand-drawn scatter plots and histograms. “You spend almost all of your time around other people.”

Ronon’s lips tighten for a second, and then he relaxes. “Yeah, I do. For a long time it wasn’t safe for me to be around anyone, and I hated it.” He looks around the bustling gym and nods. “Now I don’t have to be alone any more. I’ll never fail to appreciate that.”

John squints and scribbles that down in his notebook too. “You like spending time with people even if they’re -” He glances over at the marines, loud and bossy and distastefully laddish, “- strange? Or mean?”

Ronon grins at him. “Even then, yeah.”

“But you go running on your own. Is that what you prefer?”

Ronon stiffens slightly. “No. It reminds me of running from the Wraith. But it’s important to stay fit, and no one here likes running with me.”

Ahah! The perfect opportunity. John bounces on the balls of his feet. “I’ll go with you.”

“What, seriously?”

“Sure. It sounds fun.”

It is not fun. Running is brutal, and he is terrible at it, but Ronon smiles the whole time and he keeps telling John what a great job he’s doing.

By the time they’ve completed one lap of the route, sweat is pouring off John and his lungs are fit to burst.

“Go get some rest,” Ronon says, slapping him on the back hard enough to make him stumble. “I’m going to do another couple of laps.”

“Same time tomorrow?” he asks between heaving breaths.

“You really want to do this again?”

“You run every day, right? So I will too.”

Ronon stops for a moment, then hauls John into a giant bear hug, apparently not caring that he’s sweaty and gross, and says, “Thanks, man.”

John is a little awed by how easily he expresses his approval, and how much it means to be on the receiving end of it.

He’s noticed on trade missions that the Athosians greatly value textiles, which they weave from plant fibers and dye bright colors. On his next trip to the mainland he slips away to ask the village elder Charin about the rugs which are spread throughout her tent.

She seems surprised by his interest but happy to show off her collection. She tells him how Athosians give rugs as gifts to celebrate relationships and achievements, and then she shows him how they're made.

He trades a whole month's worth of credits for supplies, and when he returns to Atlantis he spends hours each evening delicately weaving yarn through a wooden frame, building up a soft, textured rug. When it's done it's a little lumpy, but it has four clear bands of bright color running through it to represent their team.

He carries the rug to Teyla's quarters and fidgets outside her door.

"John." Teyla squints at him as she opens the door. "You appear nervous."

"I made this for you," he says and thrusts the rug at her. "Charin told me you're supposed to make them for family. This one has stripes for the four of us on the team. Sorry if it's not very good."

Tesla takes the rug and presses a hand to her chest as she examines it. A slow, warm smile spreads across her face.

"It is beautiful. You have my thanks, John. This means more to me than you know."

He has an uncomfortable flutter of emotion and he can't quite meet her eye. He focuses on the wall behind her instead.

"You are as family to me as well," she says, and steps forward to press their foreheads together in the Athosian way.

The frank sentimentality of her manner makes him squirm, but he sort of likes it.

Rod is trickier. He is not a person who cares much for stuff, and he always waves off supply runs from Earth, saying he has everything he needs.

But he has been complaining lately that the unstable nature of Lantea's sun has been interfering with some of his measurements. John has an idea that can help with that, even if it does involve working with grubby experimental data.

Once he's ready he invites Rod to join him in the control chair room.

"I did some modeling," he says quickly when Rod arrives. He doesn't bother with a greeting. "To predict solar influence on the Lantea system and help with your experimental readings."

Rod's eyes light up. "You modeled a star for me?"

"I thought it might be," he shrugs one shoulder, trying not to look too anxious about whether Rod will find it weird, "useful."

He plugs a flash drive into a socket on the chair platform and guides Rod into the chair.

"How does it work?" Rod is bouncing with excitement, the same look of delight on his face as when he finds a new piece of technology.

John indulges in a small, proud smile, and says, "Think about where we are in the solar system."

Rod leans back in the chair and its power hums on. Overhead, the holographic display bursts into life showing Lantea and its star, along with all the other planets and comets and asteroids filling the system, with notations on their size and mass and trajectory.

Rod whips the model around, running it backward and forward through time, watching the orbits of the planets dance.

Then Rod zooms in to see the sun up close and gasps. John has linked the model to the city's long range sensors so the display can simulate the star's fluctuations in real time, and as they watch its surface bubbles and releases a tendril of plasma which reaches out into space.

The display follows the plasma as it propagates out through the system, moving first through the asteroid field and then meeting the planet, interacting with the magnetosphere and lighting up the planet's atmosphere with an aurora of dancing colors.

The soft lights of the display are reflected in Rod's eyes, wide and joyful and curious, and the sight makes something like pain but not twist in John's chest.

"This is incredible." Rod pokes further through the interface, looking at zipping comets and distant moons. He sits up and the chair's power fades off. "Thank you."

Heat creeps across John's cheeks, and he busies himself unplugging the drive. "I wanted to do something… nice."

Rod stands and walks over to him, taking the drive from his fingers. But he doesn't let go, keeping hold of his hand. "This is very nice," he says, startlingly close.

And then something very strange happens, and Rod is leaning in and kissing him. John is distracted from the soft press of his lips by absolute bafflement at this turn of events and he freezes up.

Rod steps away and John stares at him, desperately trying to figure out how to respond. "You kissed me," he ends up on, which does have the merit of being true.

Rod rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry. I thought that's what you were going for. Was it not?"

John's brow wrinkles. His thoughts are whipping past at a million miles an hour.

That hadn't been his intention - he'd assumed that Rod was straight, not that he'd given it much thought - not that someone like Rod would be interested in him even if he wasn't - but there's something compelling about the concept, something intangible sitting on the edges of his perception. He can't quite see the shape of it.

"I need more data," he decides. "Kiss me again."

Rod breaks into a charmed smile. "I can do that."

This time when Rod leans in he's ready for it. Their mouths meet carefully, tentatively, and he angles his head so they line up better.

Oh. Interesting. The data is looking positive.

"Hmm." John draws back to breathe and consider. "Yes. That's good. Let's do that some more."

“An excellent plan," Rod says, putting his arms around John's waist to pull him closer and kiss him deeper.

Rod tastes incredible. Or maybe he just tastes of stale coffee and power bars, but John’s senses are so heightened that every sensation feels earth shattering, and he's starving for more. His hands scrabble at Rod’s collar, at his arms, at the hem of his shirt, trying to touch everything in a mad dash. He’s determined to get as much of whatever this is as he can before it comes to a crashing halt.

“Hey. Hey,” Rod’s hands are on top of his own, and he’s pulling away like John knew he would. John folds into himself, ready to turn his back as he listens to this is a mistake or we both know this isn’t going to work out or I’d never feel that way about you.

“If we’re going to do this…” Rod is giving him one of those lopsided smiles, soft and genuine. “I’d like to do it properly.”

John, still braced for rejection, has no idea what that means.

“Let me take you to bed,” Rod says, wobbly and uncertain and hopeful, of all things.

“Oh.” He could do that. They could do that. An ocean of unexpected possibilities opens up, glittering and unfamiliar and enticing. “Okay.”

Rod takes his hand and leads him back to his quarters. John’s palm is sweaty but his steps feel light as air.

Kissing Rod is excellent. Doing so while lying on Rod's bed is even better, and at some point they both lose their shirts and then there’s even more skin to explore and the comforting scent of Rod all around him.

It's what's next that's stressing him out, because while he's aware of the theoretical steps involved in sex, he doesn't exactly have practical experience to draw on.

There's the ever-present worry that he's missing something, that there's something he ought to know, like there's a handbook for this which everyone got a copy of except for him.

"You good?" Rod is looking at him with those very, very blue eyes. "You went away there for a minute."

His cheeks are blazing, but it seems important to set expectations. "I've never done this before," he admits.

"You mean with a man?"

He squirms. "With anyone."

He waits for Rod to laugh at him, but he merely looks contemplative. "Were you not interested, or…?"

"It never seemed that important, you know? Just another of those things that everyone else did except for me, like going to parties, or having friends, or spending Christmas with family."

Rod's face softens with sympathy.

"And even if I wanted to sometimes, it didn't matter, because who would want this?" He indicates himself with a disparaging hand. He knows what he looks like: too thin, too lanky, messy hair that will never keep a style. He's no one's ideal. "I'm not even sure why you’d be interested."

"God." Rod reaches for him and takes his face in his hands. "You really have no idea, do you?" Rod carefully removes his glasses, sets them aside, and says, "You're gorgeous," like he really means it.

Taking off his glasses makes John feel more vulnerable than taking off his clothes. Suddenly his shield is gone and there's the world, and Rod, and it's all very close and immediate and a little disorienting.

"Hey." Rod pets his face, soft and gentle, "It's okay. We can go slow."

He makes an effort to pull himself together. "I won't be very good at this."

"You don't have to be good." Rod traces his lips with a finger. "You just have to be you."

And that’s mystifying, frankly. But he’ll give it a go for Rod.

They kiss some more, and he relaxes into it, lets Rod take the lead, lets him explore his mouth until he’s boneless and breathless. He breaks for air and is lightheaded, the room almost spinning, but he wants more.

Then Rod is kissing along his jawline, and down his neck, and oh, when Rod’s lips brush against a spot near his throat his entire body tenses and twitches, and Rod makes a curious, happy noise and does it again. It’s a hair away from overwhelming but he likes it, he likes it a lot, and then Rod gently runs his teeth over that spot and John’s hips twitch off the bed entirely of their own volition.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, but Rod doesn’t look put off. In fact, he just grins, says, “Don’t be, I like it,” then pushes John back onto the bed and mouths at that spot some more.

His skin is hot all over and he’s shaking, and god, this is all going to be over embarrassingly fast and they haven’t even gotten all of their clothes off yet.

“Rod,” he says, and it comes out as a whine. “Will you -” He gestures vaguely at the bulge in the front of his jeans and hides his face in the pillow, too bashful to let Rod see him.

Rod pauses from his engrossment in John’s neck to breathe hot words into his ear instead. “Is that what you want?” he asks, and John is fit to burst already. How is Rod so good at this?

“Please,” he says, mumbling into the pillow. Everything is too much and not enough, and he wants, he wants, he wants. “Please, Rod, please -”

“Okay, of course I will, it’s okay.” Rod strokes his flank, petting him like a skittish horse, and that should be mortifying but it’s exactly what he needs. “I’d like to see you though,” he says, and reaches over to touch John’s chin.

John lets himself be turned, lets Rod roll him over so they’re facing each other and their eyes meet. That’s almost overwhelming too, but Rod looks so pleased he thinks he might be able to manage it, and then Rod is kissing him and unzipping his pants and oh, oh, oh.

Rod wraps a hand around his cock and John just melts, like every brain cell he possesses has decided to pack up for the night. He can't even bring himself to blush because Rod is touching him right there and it’s so good, it’s so good, and all he wants is more.

Rod handles him confidently, exploring what he likes: a bit faster, a bit slower, a bit more pressure, a bit less. If John could speak he’d tell him that it doesn’t matter, right now he likes everything, anything, whatever Rod wants to do to him he’d take it happily.

But Rod is a scientist, and he loves his data just as much as John does, so he does some experimentation and finds the ideal speed John likes, and the angle, and then he squeezes gently around the head and John’s orgasm explodes behind his eyes like bright, white light.

He floats for a while, like a spring that’s been twisted and twisted and finally bursts free, and he’s vaguely aware of Rod stroking his face. It’s nice, every muscle in his body slack and comfortable for once instead of clenched down tight.

“You good?” Rod asks, and John can’t help but smile.

“Very,” he mumbles, mouth lax and lazy.

Rod drops a kiss on his temple, and there’s something so casual and caring about that it makes John’s heart squeeze.

“You mind if I get myself off?” Rod asks and heat races up the back of John’s neck. He does not mind that one bit.

“Should I. Um.” He ought to offer, right? That was the polite thing. But, “I don’t really know what to do,” he admits.

Rod smiles softly at him and says, “How about you kiss me?”

And yes, John is definitely on board with that, he can do that. He puts an arm around Rod’s shoulders and pulls him closer, then kisses him: carefully at first, peppering soft pecks to his lips, and then deeper, lips sliding over each other as they grow more heated, and then finally wild and messy, slipping his tongue into Rod’s mouth while Rod pushes his pants down and works himself over.

He feels Rod’s fist bumping up against his thigh, faster and faster as he speeds up his hand, and John can’t help but glance down. He watches in fascination at the way the head of Rod’s cock peeks through his hand on each stroke, red and hard and leaking from the tip. Reflexively, he licks his lips.

Rod is making these soft groaning noises which have John entranced, like he wants to spend every spare minute he has learning how to coax them out of him. And then Rod is biting his lip, and twitching, and staring at him open-mouthed and breathing hard.

“Can I come on you?” he asks, and something in John’s brain short-circuits.

“Yes,” his mouth says for him. “Rod, god, yes.”

He can’t stop staring at the movement of Rod’s hand and, emboldened by a force he didn’t know he had in him, he reaches down to wrap his hand around Rod’s. He lets Rod guide their movements, adding a soft pressure from his fingers so they can bring him off together.

“John,” Rod sighs, full of warmth and contentment, and then he’s relaxing and coming. Fluid splatters across John’s thighs and he did that, he made Rod feel good, and that feels like the best gift of all.

Rod is soft around the edges now, smudgy like a charcoal painting, and when John asks, “Was that okay?” he pulls him closer and nuzzles into his neck, covering both of their bodies and their clothes hopelessly in come, and says, “That was perfect.”

John wakes up sticky, rather too hot, and filled with a roiling, anxious feeling. The bed is too small and Rod is too close, and his heart rate picks up as he looks fuzzily around the room.

He should go. He should just go, right now, before Rod wakes up and they have to talk about this and he says something wrong and ruins everything.

He’s squinting and patting at the bedside table, looking for his glasses, when he feels movement behind him.

“Morning.” Rod drops a soft kiss on his shoulder. Then he rolls over, John’s glasses in his hand, and opens them up and pops them onto his face. He slides them up John’s nose, smiles, and says, “There you are.”

And oh. All that panic seems further away once he has the armor of his glasses back, and now he can see the pillow crinkles imprinted into Rod’s cheek. He seems less like an agent of impending judgement and more like Rod, just Rod, Rod who knows him and has seen him at his worst and still, for whatever baffling reason, seems to like him.

“Hi,” he manages, and Rod beams like that was exactly the right thing to say.

“Coffee?” Rod offers. “Or shower first?”

As rare as it is for John to turn down coffee, he really is unpleasantly sticky. Deal with that problem first, he decides. “Shower,” he says, grateful that he’s not required to string together more than single words.

“Sure.” Rod gives his ass a cheeky pat as he rises, then throws him a towel.

He showers quickly and efficiently, but as he steps out and wraps a towel around himself he spots a purpling bruise on the side of his neck in the mirror. He stops to trace it with his fingers, remembering the feeling of Rod’s mouth there, hot and demanding.

“Ahh.” Rod stands in the doorway to the bathroom. “Sorry about that. I got a bit carried away.” There’s a flush on his cheeks, and he looks nervous.

John tilts his head, looks at the mark from another angle. There it is: incontrovertible evidence that he's wanted. What a fascinating concept. “Don’t be. I like it.”

“Oh.” Rod’s eyes go very round and the blush deepens. “That’s good. That’s. Ahh. Very good. I’ll just -”

Rod drops the towel from around his waist and makes for the shower, and John gets an eyeful of his half-hard cock, and then, as he walks past, an ass he has the sudden urge to sink his fingers into. A heat that’s beginning to feel familiar creeps up his neck, and he wants -

What the hell, he thinks, and he tosses his own towel aside to follow Rod back into the shower, delighting in his yelp of surprise when he slides up behind him.

“Shep! Think fast!”

John manages to get his hands up just in time to prevent the power bar from hitting him in the face.

“Thought you might want a snack before the mission,” Ronon says with a wink. “Just in case we have to run anywhere.”

“Hey, I’m getting better at that! I’ll catch up with you one day.”

“Sure you will.” Ronon checks the straps on John's tac vest like he always does, then says, "Looking good, buddy," and ruffles his hair.

John used to hate that, but he's given up trying to tame his hair and now he lets it stick up in whatever direction it wants. It's weird but it works.

Teyla bumps her shoulder against his as they walk toward the gate room. "What do you have for us today, John?"

“Remember that strange energy signal Major Lorne’s team picked up last week? I was able to map its topography through space and pinpoint its likely origin, and Rod took a look at the electromagnetic readings and he thinks it might be a power source -”

“So we are going to investigate the signal on P2X-884?”

“Bingo.”

Rod is standing in front of the gate like he belongs there. He claps his hands. "Ready for another thrilling adventure in the Pegasus galaxy?"

"Maybe we'll get to hunt some Wraith," Ronon says, entirely too cheerfully.

"Or discover some hideous alien parasite," Teyla joins in with a gruesome smirk.

"Or accidentally blow something up," John supplies, because that's usually how their luck goes.

"Sounds delightful." Rod grins and yells up to the gate techs, "Dial her up."

As the gate engages with a whoosh and a glow of blue light, Rod reaches out to graze his fingers against John's: a reminder, and a promise. Out of the corner of his eye, John catches his smile.

He stands a little taller, knowing his team has his back, and steps through the wormhole.

#mcshep #stargate atlantis #my writing #i will NOT shut up about mensa!john i LOVE him

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emmettsleftnut · 4 years

Text

The Cullens learn about Bella’s Childhood.

Bella and Edward are sitting on a couch in the lounge of the Cullen house, still getting to know each other ((Imagine chapter 14 of Midnight Sun)) The other Cullens are sitting in the next room, not entirely listening in, but due to enhanced senses are in easy hearing distance. Bella is lying in Edwards’ lap with her legs across the couch, her back against his chest. He is sitting against the side of the couch, his legs either side of Bella’s, with another round of 20 questions.

“Tell me about your first date.” I said. Surely she had been on plenty of dates before, even if she got half the attention she gets here. “Hah! never been on one” She replied, obvious conquest in her voice. It sounded like she thought she had won something.

“Surely you’re joking Bella, you get more attention than any other female in this town, you can’t expect me to believe-” “Except for Rosalie!” I chuckled, and I’m sure I heard Emmet and Jasper laugh quietly from the next room “Sure, except for Rosalie.” I paused, waiting for her to go on. “Yeah, no dates for me. What can I say, forks is a once off.” I didn’t believe that for a moment, surely if the boys here found her so insanely captivating, the boys from Phoenix couldn’t be so different that they would show no interest whatsoever. “Turn the qualifications for a ‘date’ at the lowest possible setting, still no?” I questioned, surely this would get some sort of answer from her “Still a no cowboy, I’m a fresh slate when it comes to the dating world.” You and me both, i thought. Suddenly Alice’s thoughts from the next room caught my attention ‘Did she seriously just call him cowboy?” I chuckled to myself, I’ll never get used to the colloquial language this generation uses, no matter how much time I spend with them.

“I just never had time y’know,” she continued “I always had so much to do I never had enough free time to think about it, even if i really wanted to.” Free time, I never really thought about that idea. When I think of Bella, I think of books. Does she not include reading as free time because reading is technically a task? Or was there something that occupied enough time that she could barely have time to read, something she loved so much. “When you say you didn’t have any free time, what do you mean by that? Don’t tell me you spent so much time reading you never met anyone new?” She chuckled, I didn’t think what I had said was funny, but her reaction still put a smile on my face.

“No no, nothing like that, I’m not so much of a hermit that I spend all my time indoors you know.” I took a turn to chuckle this time, but before I could press for further information, she gave it to me without prompt “running a house is hard work you know, it doesn’t leave you with much time to spare.” I stiffened, running a house? What did she mean by that? Was it another expression I was too uninformed to understand, or did she mean it literally. Suddenly i heard all of the conversation in the next room go silent, not that it was loud enough for a human to hear before so I’m positive Bella would not have noticed, but what was odd to me was that thoughts seemed quiet as well, as if everyone in the next room had suddenly taken interest in something. It didn’t take me long to figure out that what they were suddenly interested in was our conversation.

I suddenly heard Emmet say ‘What? What are you all listening to?’ He was interrupted with shushing and the room once again went silent, how bizarre. “Edward?” Bella interrupted my brooding “Is.. everything ok?” she seemed cautious “Yes everything is fine, I was just processing what you said. What did you mean by running a house” She paused to think about that for a moment, I found myself holding in a non existent breath.

“Well,” she started “My mother wasn’t much of a homebody. I’ve told you that she was adventurous and would always rather be outdoors than inside, always on some escapade of some sort. Regardless, someone had to tend to the home, that someone was me.” I pondered that for a moment, although not for long as she soon started again “I can’t remember exactly when it started, around when I was four I think, maybe five? I learned quickly though, cleaning was always easy, Renee said that she was allergic to dust, and that the detergent from the dishes hurt her skin so I would always end up cleaning the place. Just paper towels and cleaning solution y’know? Vacuuming, washing dishes, meal prep, doing laundry and the like, nothing crazily difficult, all kids did that sort of thing, y’know?”

Did normal children do things like that? From my knowledge, which I’ll admit is limited in the subject, most human children were just expected to pick up after themselves and not much else, how much could a child truly do. “Go on” I encouraged, she seemed reluctant, maybe I was too tense? I loosened my posture and this seemed to calm her slightly.

“As I got older I was able to do much more, by six I was able to cook full meals” she chuckled without humour “My mother wasn’t home much, or if she was, she was planning her next adventure. I had to talk her down from a lot of them, skydiving and cliff jumping with flying suits, she’s terrified of heights but only I seemed to remember that.” She pondered for a moment, thinking, I decided. “I was told that I had more capabilities than most college students, although I’m not sure if that’s true. I did taxes, budgeting, paid bills, cooked each day, cleaned the house when I came home from school, and did any school stuff I had to do after that, so yeah, limited free time.”

I was taken aback by this, ‘so yeah’ she had said as if it was no big feat that she was doing all of this. “You make it sound like she was never around, like you lived on your own or something?” I asked, unsure how she would respond. She just chuckled again and said “ah it felt like that every now and again, since I was in school I had to stay home to go each day so sometimes I would be. She would want to go on a trip, I had to go to school or tend to the house so I would stay home while she went out to god knows where. Then when she got home, I’d feed her, listen to the details of her trip, then watch her plan her next one. Don’t get me wrong I went on them with her when I could, but I had a lot on my plate.”

I was speechless, she had just stated that she was essentially an adult before she had even reached double digits in age, but assumed this was normal. “Bella, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think that’s normal for children of that age.” I said warily, she scoffed and said “Come on I’m sure its fine, most kids have to do chores around the house and cook and all that, just because I did some extras every now and again doesn’t mean my life was overly difficult.”I thought about this for a moment, maybe this really wasn’t as bizarre as I thought. No, no that couldn’t be, I was sure that children usually spent their childhoods making friends and having fun, not filing taxes and cooking meals.

“Bella, exactly how often were you left alone?” “Most of the time.” she said quite quickly, as if she didn’t need to think about this at all. “Can you elaborate on ‘most of the time?’” I said, once again wary. “Maybe 70 to 80% of the time, I’m not entirely sure but my mother was out quite a lot.” It sounded to me like Renee wasn’t as much of a parent as Bella had said, more of an obligated holder, like Bella was just some sort of possession that she could leave behind. This angered me, Bella had talked about her mother as if she was some sort of admirable figure, yet she would leave her daughter home alone for the sake of what? an adventure?

“You ok?” She asked, I had only just realised I had been silent for a while now “Just thinking” I answered “Penny for your thoughts?” “I’m just unsure about the dynamic, you speak very highly of your mother Bella but I’m starting to become unsure as to why. From what you’ve said, it seems like she doesn’t deserve the praise you give her.” She seemed to tense at this comment, but I continued.

“You say that she left you alone so much of the time, but speak of her as if she never left you alone a day in your life. She would adventure and prance, but leave you alone at home to cook and clean and do your own schoolwork, you must have been so alone Bella.” Her breathing was becoming shaky, I felt bad about continuing but I wanted to try and figure out why she viewed her mother so highly.

“Your literary capability is so high because once you had finished taking care of a whole house, you had no one to talk to, so you would just read, am I right?” “You’re not wrong but-” “And you learned to cook and clean and take care of yourself because you had no choice, if you didn’t, you would be the one who suffered for it. Am I right?” “yes, you’re right” she said quietly, snuggling into my chest further. I couldn’t exactly make out her tone but I continued again. “Bella, that’s not okay love. This is no issue of yours but I worry that you had to live in an environment like that.” “Its okay” she finally said, I wrapped my arms around her, I could tell she was aware that how her mother had treated wasn’t okay, but she had just decided it was how it would be for her. “That’s just how it turned out for me, okay? I may have been lonely, and tired and had to learn fast but thats just how it is. I could’ve had it much worse, I didn’t get harmed or suffer some mysterious illness,” she looked up at me “sorry.” I laughed quietly, she seemed to think I would take offence at the mention of getting an illness, I may have died of the flu but I’m sure she knew I wasn’t that fragile.

“Shoot” She suddenly said, staring down at my arm, wiggling in an attempt to get up. “What is it Bella, are you okay?” I said releasing her and sitting her up on the couch, turning around to sit beside her. “Yes yes I’m fine I just realised how late it is, I have to get home and sort dinner for Charlie” she was still holding my arm, I realised she was looking at the black banded, silver watch on my wrist. Looks like we had both lost track of time, I looked outside to see the sun almost completely set “I see, let me give you a ride home.” “No no you’re fine, I’ll drive myself. See you later my love.” She gave me a quick kiss and dashed down the stairs and out the door before I could get another word in. For an exceptionally clumsy human, she could move quite fast.

I sat for a moment, contemplating our conversation, only now realising that the thoughts in the next room were starting to become louder again and I could hear quiet conversation begin. I got up and stalked into the room, dropping myself in an empty armchair amongst the pure white couches. To my left Esme, Carlisle and Alice were all sitting on the couch, exchanging looks, Rosalie and Emmett on the couch to my right, Jasper standing by the floor length window, looking into the forest, deep in thought it seemed. I didn’t look to see what he was thinking specifically, I couldn’t imagine it was anything I would be interested in.

Esme spoke first, looking at me with her natural maternal look somehow more intense on her face. “I’m sorry Edward, we had to listen” She seemed upset at herself so I responded quickly to try and calm her “It’s okay Esme, I know you all are trying to learn more about her. What are your thoughts.” They all seemed to think on it for a moment, all except for Rosalie, who must have done her thinking before I entered the room, she had her opinion concrete, but was waiting for someone else to begin it seemed, or she wouldn’t share it at all. Alice spoke next “Its a shame Edward, it really is. She’s so lovely and kind, and such a good friend to me,” I shot her a look “she WILL be a good friend to me, I frankly hated hearing it, she sounded so upset at having to face it, funny how conversations can change so quickly. A few scattered nods could be seen throughout the room “It doesn’t seem entirely fair, does it?” Carlisle spoke next “She truly is a lovely girl, and although she doesn’t see it she was raised in a neglectful household, yet somehow she still has so much respect for her mother.” “I certainly wouldn’t treat a child that way, however irritating they may be, children deserve love more than anything else” Rosalie spoke quietly, surprising us all, she was never one to feel any positive emotions towards Bella. Well I guess she didn't feel them towards Bella specifically, but in this case Bella was the child in question. Jasper walked towards us and sat down besides Alice. “I can’t say I enjoyed myself either, she definitely wasn’t enjoying herself during your little conversation,”

All eyes were on Jasper now, he was the last person anyone expected to be emotionally invested in any affair to do with Bella, pun entirely intended “I’m not sure if you’re right Carlisle, judging by what she felt at least, I’m no expert on humans, but she seemed to know.” “What do you mean by that Jasper, what do you mean ‘seemed to know’?” Carlisle responded, obviously confused by his newest sons revelation “She seemed almost numb to what Edward was saying, as if she had heard it before on a lesser scale. It was only when Edward really began to tell it like it is that I saw a real change.” “Which was?” Carlisle urged him on “She seemed almost regretful, I don’t read minds so I obviously can’t tell what exactly she was thinking, but she seemed to feel truly awful for speaking ill of her mother, although she had said nothing that could be considered close to trash talking. I think she knows how she was treated is something that should never be expected from a parent, but she feels as if she owes it to her mother for housing and caring for her, even if she was missing most of the time.” We all looked at him, how he had picked up so much would have to be due to his gift of emotional intelligence, or maybe he was just feeling especially perceptive today.

“Edward you love her, don’t you?” Esme suddenly said, breaking our silence, all eyes were back on me now “I do Esme, more than I could possibly describe.” “That settles it then,” she spoke with conviction “We will just have to show her how a family should operate, how a true family treats each other. We may not be the cookie cutter definition, but I love you all as my children, and Edward, I love her too. Anyone who you choose to spend your forever with, is a daughter of mine.” She walked over and hugged me, a huge smile all the way across her face causing her eyes to almost fully close. I squeezed her and let her go, looking into her eyes “Thanks mum, that means a lot to me and I’m sure it will mean the world to her.” Emmet chimed in then, jumping to his feet “Well, if I’m getting a sister she best be down for some roughhousing, I’ll show her how siblings REALLY interact.” He also had a smile on his face, cracking his knuckles. “Emmett, she’s human, remember. Maybe let’s keep the physical jabs to a minimum, and focus on verbal jabs instead. What’s life without a healthy dose of your humour.”

His smile dropped for a moment then returned with even more gusto. “You’re right you’re right I’m hilarious.” He plopped himself back on the couch next to Rosalie at the same time Esme returned to her seat by Carlisle, grabbing and squeezing his hand. “It’s settled then” Carlisle spoke “Since our Edward has chosen to spend his forever with Bella, we will do the same. Anyone that someone in our family choses to love and care for will be just as loved and cared for by the rest of us. Bella is our family now, she has chosen you and you have chosen her, let’s show her just how loving this family can be.”

A/N: I have never written anything like this before so I apologise if it sucks, I hope you all at least get the sentiment.

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dragonheart-swtor · 4 years

Text

Imperial Agent Storyline: Drunk History Version

Since people really seemed to like the last one! Y’all’s collective wish is my command. Spoilers for the Imperial Agent storyline, obviously. Enjoy!

- so you start out with your agent on Hutta, a little polluted slimeball of a world that literally everyone but the Hutts canonically hates. there's lore but we're going to ignore it. the important thing is that you're here to con a Hutt, always a dangerous gambit, into working with/for the Empire.

- you sneak into a corner to space facetime your boss, a guy we only ever know as Keeper because Intelligence is weird about names. sneaking into corners to facetime people is a repeating theme throughout the story.

- you are informed that you've already got a cover story set up, and you'll be posing as an infamous pirate called the Red Blade who'll be able to get in close to the Hutt in question, whose name I've forgotten. Nethro or Nefro or something.

- "wait, what about the actual Red Blade," you ask your boss, probably

- "he's halfway across the galaxy, you don't need to worry about him," your boss replies, in a textbook example of what we in the writing business call “foreshadowing”

- (spoiler alert: you need to worry about him)

- but we won't worry about that for now. bada bing bada boom, you stroll on into the Hutt's place. you are immediately confronted by a guy who, shock and horror, actually knows the real Red Blade and knows you ain't him. (one would think that all-seeing Intelligence would have known about him, but nuance.) this is a problem for a number of obvious reasons.

- your options are as follows: bribe him, kill him, or sleep with him. (this is also something of a recurring theme throughout the story.) whatever option you take, he's dealt with. (yes, this is the man eris fucked five minutes into her storyline.)

- (I didn’t want to pay him money, leave me alone.)

- anyway, the mission progresses smoothly. meet the Hutt, do some jobs for the Hutt, betray the Hutt's right hand and stab him in the back right after convincing him you were friends, invade the Hutt's rival's palace, McMurder the Hutt's rival, you know. your average day at the office

- most of the way through, the Hutt's other right hand starts to be suspicious about you. this is Kaliyo Djannis, and she will be Plot Relevant™.

- by which I mean she shortly thereafter walks in on you facetiming your boss and gets hired by Intelligence to help out for gods know what reason. welcome to your first companion

- (or possibly you walk in on her facetiming your boss in your room, I.. don't remember, honestly. something like that.)

- anyway one Hutt is dead the other is working with us bada bing bada boom this is going great and hey remember when I said you needed to worry about that guy you're impersonating this whole time? yeah, about that,

- so the real actual Red Blade comes sailing in to Hutta and Intelligence immediately calls you up like "hey, hate to bother you, but your cover's about to get blown in a big way and we need you to murder the guy whose identity you've stolen before he can expose you.”

- "so, just like that training mission last week. gotcha, boss, no problem."

- murder time™

- congration you done it! go home to Dromund Kaas.

- "You're on Imperial soil now, agent. Welcome home." [nonhuman Agent immediately experiences 27492738957 microaggressions] (this joke isn’t mine, for the record)

- first off, Intelligence HQ has a bomb aesthetic, as does the entire Empire in general

- second off, you do walk in on your boss talking to - by which I mean "being given a speech by" - a Dark Lord, which is less than optimal for a number of reasons, first and foremost that speeches by Dark Lords of the Sith quite often immediately precede someone getting killed

- said Dark Lord is one Darth Jadus, who will proceed to be a thorn in your side for approximately the next three hours of gameplay

- (don't worry, after that three hours you'll get a worse thorn)

- Darth Jadus decides he likes you and declares you "his" agent, which you immediately get the gist is about the worst thing that can happen to an Intelligence agent from the way everyone around you treats you like you've just had a ticking bomb strapped to your back for the rest of this meeting

- you're sent on a handful of missions, including one to the Dark Temple which, you know, Force-deaf people aren't supposed to be in, but Jadus Does Not Care

- Jadus calls you into his office at one point and tells you he's going to do some ritual to bind you to his service or something, it's not really clear, but it's clearly Not Optional and also terrifying in concept

- now, quick sidebar. there are basically two paths to take here: one where you suck up to the Sith and treat them with the utmost care and respect and fear like you're kind of supposed to, and one where you mouth off at every opportunity. Eris is mortally terrified of Sith, so she just kind of.. submitted knowing she was going to die if she didn't.

- my second run, however, was just a "hey how bad can I fuck this up" character because I already knew the story.

- I decided to mouth off to Jadus at every opportunity, including adamantly refusing this ritual.

- "What can he do to me?" I asked the person I was playing with. "I'm the protagonist! It's not like he can kill me!"

- Jadus: *kills me*

- me:

- (mechanically, anyway; story-wise I'm sure he just. put her on the brink of death. but mechanically speaking he literally actually did kill my toon)

- (this should be a warning for exactly how much this storyline is willing to put its usually-heavily-plot-armored protagonist through.)

- anyway.

- do some missions, blah blah blah, Sith possession in the Dark Temple, blah blah blah, you know the drill

- well, turns out Jadus is going on tour with several hundred Imperial civilians, military, and Sith, allegedly all hand chosen, to share his ~vision for the Empire~. that's all well and good, whatever I gue-

- sorry what do you mean his ship exploded

- what do you mean a member of the Dark Council just blew up in orbit

- cue Kill Bill sirens

- Panic! At The Intelligence HQ

- this throws everything into chaos; not only was Jadus more directly involved in Intelligence, but he was a Dark Councilor so now there's a massive power vacuum

- the Sith who ends up filling this power vacuum? Jadus's daughter, Darth Zhorrid.

- remember when I said you'd have a bigger thorn in your side after Jadus?

- so yeah. so Zhorrid is, for lack of a better word, fucking terrifying

- she's sadistic and completely careless of others' lives or wellbeing and oh yeah she also instantly latches onto you even harder than her father did and demands you find his killer

- a lot of your meetings with her aren't really plot-relevant so I'll sum them all up here:

- Zhorrid was horribly abused by Jadus, completely broken. She tells you a story about how she used to sing, and her father hired a tutor, then had her sing at a Kaas City performance until her throat was so damaged she could never sing again. He tore every scrap of joy out of her life, completely failed to teach her what she needed to know to survive the rigors of the Dark Council, and instilled every ounce of hatred, sadism, and complete lack of pity he could in her.

- She kills people for no reason other than a whim, because she was listening to a Sith opera and the aria was "very moving" (an actual literal thing that happens).

- She acts like a complete spoiled brat child. At one point the other Dark Councilors literally beat and torture her, presumably for this reason because she's insufferable and arrogant and way out of her depth, and she cries to you about it

- If you’re like me, your response to all this is basically “cool motive, still murder”

- I have sidetracked very hard. where was I

- so you spend a while trying to hunt down the people who blew up Jadus's ship. There's a bunch of rebels, you hunt them down, they've got biotech weapons called Eradicators set up to destroy cities on multiple planets, skippity skip to the big reveal

- Jadus is alive, and he organized the whole thing so he'd be able to remake the Empire into the image he wanted. He tortured and enslaved the survivors of the Dominator's destruction

- Jadus gives you a whole speech about how fear is a gift to be shared and "Through victory my chains are broken" but there must be chains to break and blah blah blah holy shit this man is genocidal

- you have three choices: join him for real, pretend to join him so you can sabotage his ship and then kill him (at the cost of hundreds of thousands of Imperial lives), or refuse outright and save those hundreds of thousands of lives but Jadus escapes (and you know he's allegedly likely to return and do even worse damage later).

- (Quick sidebar again, for those who haven’t played it: Eris chose the second option and has nightmares about it for the rest of her life. It's actually extremely haunting in-game - as you're running through Jadus's ship to sabotage it as fast as possible, you can hear the distress calls from various colonies and planets being attacked, the screams of the dying that you doomed. It's horrifying.)

- so yeah there’s really no winning that situation but hey! at least Chapter One’s over. surely in Chapter Two things can’t get worse.

- Chapter Two: Things Get Worse

- there's this guy, Ardun Kothe, an SIS agent. he's a huge threat for some reason I don't remember. you're supposed to infiltrate the SIS to get close to and eventually kill him. not an easy job, but okay, we can do this.

- Intelligence sets up the meeting; months ago they sent the first word to Kothe that there was an Intelligence agent ready to turn and they've been building up from there, sending him a steady stream of information

- enter Hunter, aka the worst bastard in this entire storyline and that is an achievement. He's the one you meet first on Nar Shaddaa.

- you do some missions for the SIS, whatever, it's not important. You finally get to meet the rest of the team - and Ardun Kothe.

- Kothe wants to speak alone, which is p typical tbh. He expresses some doubts, which you assuage as best you can; he gives you your code name: Legate. It's from a form of sabbac, he explains, you'll have to play with him sometime.

- (It is difficult for me to make what happens next funny instead of horrifying, so forgive me if the tone changes a bit here.)

- Everything is going fine.

- "I'm sorry about this, Legate."

- What?

- "Keyword: onomatophobia. Engage Thesh protocols, phase one."

- Everything is not fine.

- You black out and have an extremely rude awakening.

- So it turns out whatever happened with Jadus, the Dark Council decided you were too dangerous (usually for doing your job too fuckin well) and that you needed to be leashed. So not you have mind control programming in your brain, and anyone who has your keyword can take complete and unequivocal control of your body. this is, in a word, not great.

- (This is, as I mentioned, actually extremely horrifying. You have dialogue options and they don’t change what you actually say. You have an opportunity to shoot Kothe and even if you try to select it nothing happens. But we’re not here for the horror take (not today, anyway) so let’s just This Is Fine that and move on)

- Tl;dr you can’t harm Kothe or any members of his team, you’re forced to obey anyone who has your keyword, and this wouldn’t be that much of a problem because we’ll just tell Watcher Two what’s happened and oh wait you can’t tell anyone about your programming either. well, shit.

- You go on to work double agent, like it was planned, with this new, uh. twist

- about a third of the way through the chapter, your mind kind of cracks and you start having hallucinations - seeing things you know can't be real during a holocall, passing out in the middle of your ship and waking up in medbay.

- After that, a new voice lives in your head! Watcher X, someone you either killed or let flee on Nar Shaddaa, has sort of joined the party. Is he an AI in the spinal implant the real Watcher X gave you? is he a figment of your broken mind trying to process its situation? Who knows! Not you! either way, this is not optimal but at least he seems to be being helpful this time

- so anyway we should probably try and figure out how to undo this programming bc Intelligence is being Wholly Unhelpful

- (ASAP, please, especially with how horrible Hunter acts toward you - let’s go with “uncomfortably leery,” which I promise is generous.)

- by the way, your companions still have no idea what’s going on during all this, although they try to be varying levels of supportive (thank you vector I love you bug husband)

- Good news! The Intelligence Archive almost definitely has information on what they did to you and how to fix it. Bad news! You’re definitely not authorized to look that up and crashing the power mainframe to make sure they don’t see you do it sends the security droids after you. whoops.

- Good news! There’s a way to fix you. Bad news! You have to make and inject yourself with a still-kinda-experimental cocktail of chemicals and it may or may not give you permanent brain damage. it’s fine. this is fine.

- also it takes a while to kick in which is Less Than Optimal and by the time it finally does you’ve just been left with a binding order to stay and guard the door on what is, for you, a suicide mission. there’s some incentive to “break your chains” for ya.

- You fight and kill Kothe. Who, shock and awe! is an ex-Jedi! this was in no way painfully obvious by how he kept talking about “sensing” things, I’m sure. definitely not.

- Hunter escapes, because of fuckin course he does. Hunter, who suddenly seems far more in control of everything than he had before. Hunter, who knows far more than he should. Hunter, who ends up leading you to a much, much larger conspiracy.

- End Chapter 2.

- Hate to disappoint, but Chapter 3 is honestly the least interesting to me personally, so this’ll be brief compared to the previous chapters

- You spend a lot of time hunting down this much larger conspiracy, including Hunter specifically. There's a lot of betrayal and secret reveals. (It's not tedious by any stretch of the imagination, but the story beats definitely don't stick in my head as well as the first two chapters, even after two playthroughs.)

- you go to Voss and, in order to get into a Voss-only archive, get married to a person you just met before almost immediately leaving the planet (and your new spouse) behind. this is never mentioned again.

- you get hold of a holorecording from the Star Cabal, the big conspiracy. problem: the holorecording contains a trap for the brain-enhanced Watchers, and now half of Intelligence is in a vegetative state. this is not optimal.

- partially as a result of this, Intelligence basically gets dissolved, which is Not Great because it puts you right under the thumb of yet another asshole Sith lord

- the Watchers are recovering, though, so that’s something. Watcher Two, now Keeper (the old Keeper got promoted), contacts you so you can keep working on this Star Cabal thing.

- you get intentionally captured so the Star Cabal can torture you and you can “break” and give them false information to lead them into a trap. you are immediately afterward expected to get back to work like nothing happened. this is never mentioned again.

- You track the Star Cabal to their base, way out in the Unknown Regions iirc, and infiltrate it during a meeting of the top agents.

- murder time 2: electric boogaloo (well, more like murder time 45, to be honest, but shh it’s fine)

- You fight the Star Cabal guys, chase Hunter through the whole place, and finally corner him.

- (Salt warning ahead on my part for the next story beat, if you can call it that.)

- Hunter, when beaten, reveals what I personally think is the most bullshit stupid reveal in the entire game: he is actually a she, and has been using a stealth field generator (or something similar) to change his/her appearance the entire time. There are multiple interpretations of this - "he's trans" is my least favorite, sorry-not-sorry, because a) it's pretty clear she still considers herself a woman and Hunter is just a convenient persona, and also b) a clearly predatory man is absolutely horrid representation as far as playing into harmful stereotypes about trans people, thanks. Personally, my rather cynical interpretation is that they wanted one more shock value reveal at the end of the storyline and I guess couldn't come up with anything better. It's my least favorite thing in the whole IA storyline.

- anyway, that's not really important. I just needed to be mad about it for a minute. ignore me. moving on

- The important part is this: what you gain from the Star Cabal's base is an item called the Black Codex, an ancient piece of technology with the power to erase all records of a person's existence.

- Unless you are very stubborn about it the Agent’s reaction to this is basically “oh thank fuck I’m freeeeeeeeee” and you fly off into the hyperspace sunset with your crew, giving middle fingers to the Sith whose grip you’re escaping all the way. which, really, who can blame you.

And that’s the Imperial Agent storyline, folks. Roll credits. I’ll probably do the Bounty Hunter storyline next while it’s still fresh in my mind, but I could also do the Sith Warrior storyline probably if y’all’re more interested, vote now on your phones.

#unfortunately I don’t remember jack shit from the Jedi Knight storyline #so until i finish replaying it y'all're just gonna have to hold your horses on that one #swtor #imperial agent #drunk history swtor #i have the original much more serious version of me summarizing that first scene with kothe in drafts btw #should anyone want to see it #it's the version where i actually tried to get across to someone who'd never played the game the absolute horror of that scene #and was; i think; fairly successful #the notes on the sith inquisitor post have finally slowed down so i think it's time to post this one

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

ssa hotchner: chapter 2 - one week

TW: threats, language, talking abt abuse/what happened to y/n the night before, mild drinking

WC: 5,116

series masterlist

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

you woke up to the bright sun peeking in through your window past the hills, shining brightly into your eyes. you sat up, and rubbed your eyes in attempt to wake yourself up even more. you looked over at your clock to see the tie was already half past 6 a.m.

you didn't have to go to work for the first time in what felt like forever. trudging out of bed, you made your way into your bathroom and started the hot water.

the cut on your face looks exponentially better than it did last night. the handprint's swelling on your face had gone down quite a bit, but the bruise on your arm was definitely still there.

you brushed your teeth while you waited on the water to warm up. once the shower was ready, you shed your clothes and hopped inside. you took your time, letting the events of last night try to sink into your mind.

after you finished up, you used a towel to dry your hair a bit and got dressed in some leggings and a large t-shirt. you figured you might as well be comfortable if you didn't have anything else to do.

going back into your living room you decided to read the note that was taped to your gate. you pulled the bin out, followed by the shoe box, followed by the note.

you've been receiving them for close to 7 years now, ever since that high profile case you did for the bau. honestly, there was no telling if the letters were from more than one person. they are all typed and printed out.

at first they were all 'thank yous' for putting away a serial killer, but then came the anniversary of him being in prison... and people got a bit angry. then, people who were grateful for you putting him away forgot about it, as they should since they have lives of their own, and all that was left were the people who were angry.

the people who would wish you were dead. the people who think you should be inside there with the other killers. the people who were upset about you putting their 'true love' away for good. those were the people you were scared of.

the people that knew your address.

the people that sent you death threats.

those were the terrifying ones. the ones that kept you up at night, looking out of your window, trying to see if anyone was truly out there. nobody ever was. logically, you knew that nobody was out there lurking.

but if you told big bro, he would go all fbi on the letters. he would try to figure out who sent them, and send them to jail themselves. you didn't know if they were truly a threat, so what's the point in poking the bear? if they got too terrible, you would tell him. maybe...

you son of a bitch. you should've been his last victim so you wouldn't be here and he would be. you're nothing but a manipulative little bitch.

you don't deserve anything you have handed to you.

go die, bastard.

you folded it back up and placed it in the box, the bin, then pushed it underneath the couch.

were you worried? of course. would you tell anyone? not yet. if your fear became unmanageable, you would let someone know.

the only problem with the notes is that there was no return address. you put up security cameras everywhere around your gate in hopes of catching the culprit(s) on video, but sadly they were able to hack into the cameras you had gotten.

you would check the video footage after you received a note or picture. the time stamp went from 8:54 to 9:03, meaning they probably hacked into it before they got there.

maybe garcia could find whoever hacked into it every night if you needed her to. surely she would be able to work her magic when necessary.

you went into your room to check your phone for any new messages.

a <3: what're you doing for lunch today? feel up to spending time together two days in a row? let me know whenever you can; there's no case today.

you: i don't have any plans at all today, i guess i'll just have to suffer through another lunch with you.

and... sent.

unknown number: hi, y/n. it's spencer. i just wanted to know how're you doing? is the cut on your face okay?

you: hey back genius :) i'm doing pretty well, all things considered. my face is looking much better than it was before i went to bed, thank you for asking.

send.

while waiting for a response, you decided to clean the house a bit. you vacuumed your rugs, washed the dishes in your sink, did your laundry, and that was pretty much all you had to do today. everything done before 10 a.m.

checking your phone, there were two more messages, one from each of the guys.

a <3: great! would you mind just meeting me at the office around 11:30?

you: that's no problem at all. any place in mind?

you checked the other message from spencer.

spencer :) : i'm glad you're doing well, y/n. and to clear things up, your face didn't look bad at all last night, bruise and cut included.

what a little charmer...

you: thanks for the clarity, it's very appreciated. so how've you been since last night? save any other damsels in distress?

you put your phone down and decided to start getting ready. you opted for some blue jeans, high rise, and a lavender halter top. you paired that with some white high-top converse and threw on your gray blazer spencer brought you from last night, after you retrieved it from the dryer.

wearing something so casual, you decided to just wear your natural hair to the office. you did, however, need to cover the remnants of your adventure last night so aaron wouldn't be upset upon seeing something.

you used some good ol' color corrector, concealer, a bit of foundation, and some powder to cover the bruises and fail to disguise the cut. then again, there's not much that can be done to cover that up.

you checked the time on your phone, 10:53, and saw two more message notifications.

a <3: i was thinking about ordering some mexican food to the office so we could just stay there.

you: i'm good with anything, so that sounds great! i'll see you soon.

you sent the message and hopped over to the one spencer had sent you.

spencer :) : sadly, no other damsels. although i suppose that could be considered a good thing to most. oh! and if you were wondering, i got your number from garcia. i wasn't stalking you or anything, no worries.

you: yes, i'm glad i was the only damsel in need of saving last night. also, if i were to find out you had been stalking me, i don't think i'd be afraid. in fact, i'd probably be more flattered that THE dr. spencer reid would consider me stalk-worthy.

was it flirtatious? yes. would it make him flustered? probably. would i enjoy being the person that flustered him? absolutely.

sent.

you got into your car and began the journey to quantico. the drive isn't very long, only about twenty minutes. you hopped out of the car, and made your way to the front desk to check in. looking over your shoulder, you saw none other than spencer reid walking up to you before the woman gave you your visitor's badge.

"hi there, damsel," spencer smiled as he greeted you. you walked closer to him after thanking the lady.

"hey, hero," you laughed as you both got closer. "is it too soon to hug you?"

"oh, uhm... not at all. i was actually-yes. i do want to- i'm just gonna..." he stuttered as he opened his arms for you to snuggle into.

"i like your hugs," you surprisingly announced.

"th-thank you," he smiled as he rested his chin on your head, secretly enjoying the coconutty scent that wafted off your hair into his nose.

"yea this is gonna be the new greeting tactic for us. just saying," you huffed into his chest.

"i wouldn't mind that at all," he laughed before you pulled back from his embrace, giving his shoulders a little squeeze before relinquishing all contact.

"okay, i'm here to see aaron. i'm assuming he's in his office, like always?" you rose one eyebrow in question before feeling a hand on your shoulder, turning to see aaron.

"i'm not always in my office," he rebutted as he embraced you in his arms. "how are you?" he asked nicely.

"i'm good! i hope you aren't overworking yourself like you usually tend to do," you voiced into his chest. he pulled back, not releasing your shoulders but looking deeply at your face.

"what's that?" he pointed to your cheekbone, his brows furrowing in concentration.

"oh, pshh. it's nothing," you shrugged as you waved his hand off, noticing spencer behind aaron with a look on his face that suggested you tell your brother what it was.

"y/n. what happened?" he pushed, giving you his 'brother' look.

"fine," you huffed. "i was gonna have to explain it eventually," you rolled your eyes. "last night before i left, ron got a bit handsy. before he did too much, spencer showed up to return my jacket. things got out of hand, ron might've slapped me, spencer might've pushed him against a wall, all's well that ends well," you grinned in hopes that he wouldn't have understood a word you just uttered.

"ron slapped you?" he asked in disbelief, his face still showing no emotion as per usual.

"yea, but spencer stopped him before he got to do anything else. oh! i don't have a job at all anymore, so i'm free for the next two weeks," you pressed your lips together.

"reid was there?" he turned to face spencer, who's face looked like a deer in the headlights.

"yup. i don't know what would've happened if he didn't show up. i really owe him, aaron," you said, trying to calm your brother down from the edge he was not-so-clearly teetering on.

"well, reid. uhh, thank you. and y/n. you should've told me this the second it happened," he ordered, looking at you shooting daggers.

"sir, yes, sir," you nodded off. "i'm sorry i didn't tell you. i just knew you'd be upset and i figured since everything's okay now that it wasn't important," you shrugged, trying to diffuse the situation.

"it is important. it will always be important because you're important to me," he emphasized before taking a deep breath. "as long as you'll tell me next time i think i'll be okay."

"great! now when's the food supposed to get here because... food," you excitedly asked as you followed aaron as he turned to go to his office.

"it'll be here in about 10 more minutes," he announced as he motioned for her to sit beside him in the chairs in front of his desk. "so... what's the full story of what happened?"

"are we really gonna talk about that right now?" you huffed, clearly over the situation from last night.

"yes. we are. harassment is a serious issue that should be dealt with accordingly. you know that, y/n," he reasoned, propping his arm on his desk as he looked at you with his stern face.

"i do know that. i also know that he only ever did that to me. he has a wife and two kids; he'd never do anything to put them in jeopardy," you announced, trying to convince aaron not to press the issue any further.

"but he would be willing to risk a law suit from you because of what happened?" he questioned in defiance, not accepting the ask to drop it.

"i wouldn't give him a law suit, aaron. you know that," you remarked, leaning in towards him slightly.

"you should. logically, you should sue him for hitting you. and i'm assuming for whatever else he's done to you in the past," he corrected you.

"how do you know he's done anything in the past?" you questioned, aaron nodding his head to the side. "right. profiler," you sighed. "look, he used to call me names i'm uncomfortable with, but now i won't have to deal with him. i don't work there anymore and never will again."

"you may not work there, but what if another woman starts working in the office? who's to say he won't harass them as well?" you looked down into your lap, fondling your fingers in avoidance. "look, i'm not trying to be rude about it. i just don't like seeing you hurt, and to know that the guy who hurt you isn't getting anything done to him is ludicrous."

"i know. you've always looked out for me since we were kids, but i'm not a kid anymore. i'm a grown woman and can take care of my own business when i need to," you replied softly, placing your hand over top aaron's in comfort. "but thank you, for always caring. i know you do it because you love me, even though you don't say it often," you laughed, trying to bring some light hearted-ness to the situation.

"i do..." he nodded along. "love you, that is," he added with a rare smile.

aaron has always been there for you. ever since you were kids, because of you dad he would take the role of protector for both you, sean, and your mom.

because of his role of 'protector,' he has this external shell that he feels as though he can't shed. in his mind, if he sheds it he's not able to mask his feelings, leaving not only himself but also those he protects vulnerable.

"i love you too, a.," you smiled back, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it from your grip. aaron took his phone and checked the time.

"the food's here now," he announced as he went to go pick it up from the front desk.

when he returned he gave you the food and you began to eat together, him telling you the latest garcia story that got quite the kick out of you until his attention went elsewhere.

"... so...?" aaron asked sneakily, a sly grin appearing on his face.

"... so what?" you furrowed your brows in question as you took a sip of your drink.

"you and reid, huh?" he widened his eyes in suspicion.

"what about me and reid?" you wanted to press him further, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

"that's exactly what i would like to know. what's going on with you and reid?" he finalized, pointing his fork accusingly at you.

"nothings going on with me and spencer," you raised your hands in defense. "i just drove him home after he intervened in the... situation, last night so i made sure to thank him. he texted me earlier today to ask me how i was holding up after yesterday evening- like a gentleman," you pointed out, raising your eyebrows to establish some sort of dominance you knew you didn't have over your brother.

"right," he said in a sing-song voice, you rolled your eyes at his tone.

"shut up," you scoffed as you threw away each of yours' trash. "so, i think it's time for me to go," you smiled as you turned to face aaron from the doorway.

"ahh, right," he sighed with a small grin. "i actually talked to strauss about getting you onto the team," he raised his eyebrows.

"did you, now?" you smirked. "what'd she say about it?"

"she said that you'd need to fill out an application, and that if you were to be hired there'd be a trial run first to see if everything would work out smoothly," he announced happily.

"really? so there's a chance i could work here?!" you squealed, rubbing your lips into a tight line from the excitement.

"a pretty good one, at that. i actually have an application right," he reached over his desk to retrieve a couple pages stapled together, "here," he smiled, handing you the application forms.

"oh my gosh!" you shouted, throwing your arms over your brother's stomach and squeezing him tightly. "this is so exciting! do you think i'm actually qualified?" you asked, pulling back from his embrace.

"are you kidding? of course you are?" he asked incredulously. "just fill those out, return them to strauss, and i'm sure she'll review them quickly," he nodded.

"right. i'll get going now," you smiled widely. "thank you, a. thank you so much," you said, giving him one last hug before you whooshed out of the door, papers in hand.

you walked down the stairs and out of the glass doors towards the elevator. the doors started to close after you pressed the 'lobby' button, but there was a brown satchel stuffed between them to stop the from closing right before they shut. once thy opened back up, you noticed who the bag belonged to.

"hey, spencer," you smiled, scooting over in the elevator to make more room for him.

"hey, y/n. how was your lunch?" he asked, returning your smile.

"it was pretty good. aaron gave me an application for the bau, which is very exciting," you bit back a wide grin.

"really?" he asked happily, his eyebrows raised, you nodded in return. "that's so great!" he said cheerily, wrapping his arms around your waist an lifting you off the elevator floor as the two of you giggled together.

"i know! if i'm being honest, i'm a bit nervous about it, y'know?" you said as he placed you back onto your feet, your hands still on his biceps.

"why? we already know you'll fit in well and do great. what's making you nervous?" he asked, his head tilting slightly as he looked at you with a confused expression.

"i don't know..." you started. "i guess since i've only worked at one job, doing one thing, moving nowhere, staying stagnant, i just don't know anything else," you shrugged.

"it's actually incredibly normal to feel nervous about a new job. over 80% of working professionals feel nervous or anxious when starting a new job," he clarified as the elevator doors opened, you both walking out together. "think of it this way: you know the material, you're more than qualified, you know everyone you'd be working with, and you're passionate about what you'll be doing. there's no doubt that you'll do amazing," he encouraged as you continued the walk to your car.

"thank you. at least i know i'm not the only one that gets this way," you sighed. "so why'd you walk all the way out here?" you giggled. "don't you still have work?"

"uhh, yes. i-i do have to work. i just f-figured- i just wanted to uh, talk to you?" he stuttered out, clearly not realizing how charming it was.

"well, thank you, spencer. i really enjoy our little chats," you nodded as you unlocked your car. "thanks for walking me out. i'll see you?" you asked.

"yea, yes. i will uhm, see you later. goodbye, y/n," he smiled gorgeously.

"see you later, spencer," you grinned back as you closed your door and began to drive off after buckling up.

halfway home, you got a call from someone. you pressed the bluetooth answer button on your radio to answer.

"hello?" you replied, readjusting your hands on your wheel.

"y/n hotchner. i can't believe you were at the office and didn't even bother to say hi to me!" emily's voice rang through the speakers.

"emily! hello to you too," you giggled.

"you even said hi to reid! but not me?" she shouted. "what gives?"

"sorry, i just kinda ran into him, i guess. well, he ran into me," you corrected yourself.

"what does that mean?"

"well, he kinda stopped me while i was in the elevator so he could talk to me. he's such a good friend," you complimented.

"only friend?" emily asked suggestively.

"yes, em. only friends," you laughed at the insinuation.

while it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be more than friends with him, it certainly wasn't the right time for a serious relationship in your life yet.

"righhtt... anyway, that's not the only reason i called you," she stated.

"and why did you do that?" you asked as you turned onto the highway, a straight shot to the street with your house on it.

"i wanted to know if you'd like to come with us to a bar after we get off of work tonight?" she asked.

"hmm... who's 'we'?"

"well there's me, morgan, garcia, and you if you'll come?"

"sure, it sounds fun," you agreed. "besides, not like i have anything to do with no job and all," you laughed out.

"great! now we could probably convince reid to come now that you're going!" she exclaimed.

"jeez, em," you huffed as you rolled your eyes and turned onto your street.

"you know it's true. morgan's already teasing him about it and everything," she snorted out over the phone.

"oh poor spencer..." you grimaced as you thought about the relentless teases.

"yea, yea, yea. but you're coming, and there's no backing out! i'll just pick you up before i head to the bar. be ready at 8, ma'am. dress hot, please, garcia and i already agreed to it," she demanded.

"yes ma'am, sounds good," you nodded even though she can't see you.

"alright, love you, bye," she said, holding out the 'e'.

"love you too, bye," you said as she hung up the phone, finally turning into your driveway to be met with your gate.

you entered the code and the gate opened, allowing you to drive half a mile up to your house. you had always wanted a nice, big house as a child. the kind that people had in movies, and everyone looked at online. you signed a lease for this house a while back, and got an amazing deal on it sense you knew who owned it previously.

unlocking your door, you walked into your house with the papers in hand. you walked into your dining room and started filling the papers out easily. it was only 1 p.m., so you had a while before you had to start getting ready for going out with them tonight.

*******

you threw on a maroon colored corduroy skirt, tucking in your spaghetti strap, black tank top. adding some black heeled booties, you added a few silver pieces of jewelry.

after adding some mascara, lip gloss, and a bit more powder you felt like you were ready to walk out of the door. you did a few spritzes of perfume before grabbing your black crossbody purse, letting it hang on one shoulder before grabbing your black denim jacket, dashing out of the door to emily's car.

"hey em," you said as you swung the door open, crawling not-so-gracefully inside.

"hey there," she said as she examined what you were wearing. "i seriously did my makeup for half an hour and you come out looking like that? it should be illegal to look that hot, y/n," she rolled her eyes with a huff.

"are you kidding me?" you replied, looking over to see what she was wearing herself.

she had on a short, black dress that had a low neckline, allowing tasteful cleavage to show through. she wore that with some red pumps to match her lipstick and some shimmery eyeshadow.

"okay, you can't say that. you look hot, em! don't sell yourself short," you punched her arm playfully.

"yea, yea, yea," she said, beginning to drive out of your driveway.

once you arrived to the bar, it looked like it was almost full. the music was loud, and you could feel the base through your feet on the floor. it took you about a minute until you could find the others, derek, pen, and spencer, sitting at a booth in the corner of the bar.

because of how crowded it was, you sat across from penny and derek and in between spencer and emily. you were practically on top of spencer because of how small the seats were, the poor guy.

"damn, you look great, y/n," derek gushed before looking at spencer with a smirk. "don't you think, pretty boy?" he laughed out, earning a jab from penny in the stomach.

"play nice, derek," she scolded him. "but you do look great, y/n. your legs look amazeballs in that outfit... like wow," she exaggerated.

"oh, shush," you blushed. "i'm kinda hungry... you guys?" you asked them.

"i could go for some cheese sticks," emily replied.

"i ate before we came here," spencer replied with a smile, leaning into your ear a little bit to answer.

"so cheese sticks and... cheese fries? i adore cheese fries," penny added.

"i'm okay with whatever. i'll go order," you said as emily got up to let you out.

"i'll help," spencer added as he scooted out with you.

"great, any drink requests?" you asked, pointing out to all three others.

"jack and coke," emily requested.

"anything fruity they have!" pen told you.

"whiskey, on the rocks," derek said with a smile.

"you've got it," you said as you turned around, realizing how crowded it was as you tried to weave through the first few people in your way.

you felt a hand grip yours firmly, turning to see it was spencer's hand you felt a sigh of relief wash over you. he leant down to your ear to talk to you, so you leaned a bit closer to him.

"i'm gonna put my arm around your waist so we can get through easier. is that okay?" he asked. his breath on your neck and ear almost distracted you from the question.

"y-yea. that's uhm... that's okay," you nodded your head as you felt his arm snake around your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

you moved one of your arms around his torso in return, squeezing yourself further into your side so you could avoid bumping into as many people. you could smell his sweet cologne, and the smell of what seemed to be coffee and old books. the warmth of his entire being was undeniable, drawing you closer to his presence.

eventually when you made it to the bar, you both kept your arms around the other. after ordering the food and drinks, you finally pulled your arm back, but stayed just as close to him.

"have you filled the application out yet?" spencer asked sweetly, leaning into your body.

"yea, i finished them just before i got ready to come here, actually," you nodded your head with a smile. "i guess you could say i'm a bit eager to start working."

"i think that's a good thing," he smiled brightly.

"oh, it definitely is!" you agreed. "i'm just so bored at the house. i've only been gone for a day and i need something to do, y'know?" you shrugged.

"busybody?" he questioned.

"oh you have no idea," you laughed, pushing his shoulder back playfully.

"i guess it runs in the family. hotch is always working on something as well," he mentioned. "so working at the bau would be a great fit for you both."

"yea, i sure hope so," you said longingly. "so what else do you do for fun... besides reading and working, of course," you asked.

"uhmm, i enjoy magic, i guess," he expressed.

"really?" you perked up, straightening out your posture at what he revealed.

"yea. i know a few little party tricks. wanna see?" spencer proposed, you nodded eagerly. "okay," he licked his lips as he began digging into his pocket and pulled out a $20 bill, also getting a pen. "watch..." he said as he jabbed the green paper with the pen.

"okay?" you squinted your eyebrows at what he was doing, unsure of where this trick was leading.

he then started to drag the paper around the pen, not tearing the bill at all. you felt your jaw drop in awe as he continued playing with it. then, he drug the pen all the way out of the bill, not a hole in sight. he made the bill disappear, leaving you stunned.

"what? how did you-? where did it-?" you stuttered, looking at him accusingly.

he reached around your hair, behind your ear and pulled out the same twenty dollar bill as earlier, a smug look on his face as he did so.

"okay... wow." you said as you began slow-clapping in awe. "i'm thoroughly impressed, spencer."

"thanks," he smiled shyly as he tucked the bill back into his pocket. "i've been doing magic since i was a kid. it's one of my hobbies when i'm we're not trying to catch serial killers," he shrugged.

"i'd say you've picked a good hobby," you chuckled. "i bet kids love it when you do them, huh?"

"yea, it's quite the entertainment for children," he nodded. "i love their reaction to it. it just makes me happy that i can bring a smile to their face."

"that, spencer, is fascinating," you complimented as the bartender handed you the drinks and spencer the food to take back to the table.

walking back was much easier than your journey to the bar, people actually making way for others with their hands full of refreshments. at least some people still had their manners.

"okay guys," you addressed as you began passing out the drinks, "here is your whiskey, jack and coke, and a tequila sunrise for pen."

"ouuu! i like the sound of that!" penny cheered as she took a sip of the drink, her eyes widening with delight.

"thank you, ma'am," derek thanked as he took a sip of his drink.

"absolutely perfect, y/n," emily relished in her beverage.

the rest of the night was fun. you laughed, joked, and danced with the girls. you even got to know spencer a bit more, much to your liking.

the next day you turned in your application, and was surprised when you got the job on the spot. you would begin your trial run in one week.

and you couldn't believe how fast that week went by, because as soon as you blinked, you were in the bullpen of the bau at your very own desk.

#spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid #y/n #agent hotchner #y/n hotchner #ssa hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner

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liusaidh-writing · 3 years

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Call it True - Chapter One

Claire and Jamie are neighbors - though they’ve never met. Claire, infatuated with her Scot upstairs, is more than a little certain that it’ll never happen. Is she wrong?

Prefer to read at AO3?

Hope you all enjoy this...I really wish I could say I’d update on a regular day weekly, but as of right now I don’t get much time to write. So please be patient!

**I’d like to thank (profusely) @faithperry46 for being my life-saver/beta reader. I wouldn’t/couldn’t have done this without your help!**

Here we go...

-----

Claire chuckled to herself, hearing the vacuum come on downstairs again. Every morning, without fail, the older lady who lived downstairs turned it on...to hoover her back patio. Living on the first floor, she was granted a small back garden - one Claire was envious of. Though she didn't think she'd do much but sweep her patio with a broom.

Claire pushed open her kitchen window and held her breath, wondering if he'd be here at his window today. Claire figured this was her favorite way to start her days: a small chat with her mysterious, yet lovely -and stupidly handsome,- neighbor, Jamie.

Claire hid a grin when she spotted his curly auburn hair.

"Poor woman. Shall we buy her a broom for Christmas?" He joked, greeting Claire with his unassuming smile. He gave her a wink - if it

could be called that, seeing as he couldn't wink correctly but instead closed both eyes in a humorous attempt.

Claire smiled properly this time, calling to him as she rested her elbows on the window sill.

"She's going to break that thing soon enough. I'll get the dustpan if you'll get the broom?" she offered with a laugh. It was only May, but who was Claire to say it was too early to start Christmas shopping? Especially if she could do it with Jamie.

"It's a deal. We can present it to her together." Jamie smiled at her, and Claire as per usual, panicked, swatted her face with her hands while mumbling something about a bug before excusing herself.

"I've got to run just now, but we can work out the details later. See you soon!"

She shut her window as she heard him respond with a friendly 'Have a good day, Claire!'

She didn't truly need to be anywhere for another half hour - her shift at the hospital started an hour from now, but she just couldn't talk to him for long. She'd get all flustered, and was terrified she'd say something completely stupid and ruin what they had. Claire had never met the man in the flesh, but she was completely enamored with him...or his face rather, since that was all she could see from her window.

She loved his stupid wink, his big smile that nearly met his slanted eyes as he greeted her when they saw one another. She had no idea if he lived alone, but she was certain that someone that handsome had to have a girlfriend at the very least. Or a boyfriend, perhaps. He certainly had no need of anything more from her than a quick morning chat... or else it would've happened already - that's what she told herself six months into their weird connection. Her erratic schedule at the hospital kept her from seeing him every morning and explained why they'd never met in person.

Their relationship never ventured much further than chatting about their mutual source of amusement: their elderly neighbor with the hoovering obsession. They chatted here and there about happenings in their respective days: 'You got a haircut!' She'd say, noticing his hair was slightly shorter. He'd nod, pretend to preen, and run his hands through his hair with a laugh.

He had no idea what that did to Claire. She was sure her cheeks went pink whenever he was even slightly flirty. She'd lose the ability to concentrate, to speak, so she'd excuse herself in some clumsy way and go about her day with him swimming around in her imagination. She'd fantasize about knocking on his door, asking him for coffee, laughing over a shared joke that didn't have to do with their neighbor, Jamie kissing her dumb as his hands roamed her back for her bra strap...

Sometimes she got carried away.

---

Claire got to work, noticing that her favorite co-worker, Lesley, was already there. Claire saw Lesley's toddler's car seat in the back, knowing it hadn't been a fun morning at her house. Lesley had a two-year-old son named Harry who Claire enjoyed, but Lesley's ex-husband Frank wasn't always in a helpful mood. So, this morning -like a lot of mornings,- the two-year-old was brought to the hospital child care center instead of staying home with his father.

Claire sighed, shaking her head on Lesley’s behalf. Claire remembered when she’d gotten married to Frank and when she’d had her son - Lesley had thought she had it all. "But look," Claire thought, "it all fell apart at her feet shortly after it began."

"I’m better off by myself. Only me to worry about.” It was her mantra of sorts, and Claire had convinced herself it was true.

She got to her floor, put her stuff in her locker, and slowly shuffled to her station as she wondered what her day would bring. Lesley was there, as expected, riffling through some files as she smiled at Claire in greeting. Lesley was slightly shorter than Claire, with medium-length blonde hair Claire was sure wasn’t entirely natural. Lesley’s down-to-earth demeanor and penchant for keeping Claire grounded in reality was, unbeknownst to Claire, her saving grace during the work day, and though Lesley had had a rough go of it with Frank, she remained, for the most part upbeat - something Claire struggled with at times. Always there to lend an ear, Lesley was invaluable to Claire, and she was happy to return the favor whenever possible.

“Here you go, Lady.” Lesley said as she handed Claire a bright red folder with a name Claire couldn’t read on the side. “New admittance - a 72-year-old woman had a stroke and is in for observation.”

Claire worked on the cardiac floor and enjoyed it... for the most part. The majority of her patients were older men and women, and she found them easy to talk to. She knew she could offer them some comfort and help during their stay.

Grabbing the folder, she headed to her first room and started her day.

---

Claire’s lunch left much to be desired - leftover Chinese food that had Lesley crinkling her nose.

“How old is that, Claire?”

“I'm not sure. A few days…”

“It doesn’t smell right.”

Claire watched as Lesley’s mouth formed a frown. Lesley had her own lunch - a fresh salad with grilled chicken and cashews.

“We can’t all be chefs, Lesley,” Claire said as she took a bite of her Kung Pao chicken. She made a face, struggling to swallow. Perhaps she should’ve thrown it out - but it was all she’d had to bring today.

“You live alone, Claire - you can cook all you want! I have to make my lunches once Harry has gone down for the night. After folding all of the laundry and scarfing down what’s left of dinner.” Lesley took a bite of her salad and chewed slowly as Claire shook her head.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she said quietly, pushing her fried rice around with her fork. “I could cook, I suppose,” she continued, thinking about the ingredients in her refrigerator. Those consisted of a block of parmesan cheese, a bottle of orange juice, and a small pint of milk. “I could make...well, not much at the moment, but…” Claire, wanting to change the subject from her nonexistent domesticity, decided to bring up Jamie.

“I think he must have a girlfriend,” Claire said, deciding to throw her lunch out and buy some peanut butter crackers from the vending machine. As she fished for some coins in her purse, she continued. “I mean, he’s gorgeous...surely he’s taken. You know I have no luck, Lesley.”

“Well, Claire,” Lesley began, sounding unsure about her next statement. “Do you...try?”

Grabbing her crackers from the slot at the bottom of the vending machine, Claire whirled around, brows knitted and mouth in a scowl.

“I do try,” she said, opening the crackers and stuffing one in her mouth. “I just figure he’s not worth my time,” she mumbled, spraying crumbs over her shirt. She brushed them off, shrugging.

Lesley rolled her eyes, then set them on Claire, giving her a pitying, yet frustrated look. “You don’t know anything, Jon Snow.”

“It’s ‘You know nothing…’” Claire corrected, ignoring her comment. “Look how it worked out with Frank. You’re not exactly a great example of romance gone right.” Claire felt somewhat guilty when she saw Lesley’s face fall for a second, but the conversation was cut short by the clock. Time to get back to work.

“Just give it a go, Claire - the worst that could happen is that he is involved with someone else. You don’t know unless you ask.” Lesley gave her parting advice before they headed out of the lunchroom.

Claire believed that the idea of knocking on his door and asking him about his relationship status was a little too much to ask of her. She’d talked to him - flirted even, and still...nothing. Nothing good could come of her asking him out, she decided. Only mortal embarrassment, and the unfortunate circumstance of having to live under someone who’d turned her down. No, thank you.

Claire managed to push down all her thoughts about Jamie and get through her shift, and was relieved to plop down on the bus seat that would take her home.

Getting home, she eyed Jamie’s door, craning her neck in the stairwell to get a glimpse of the bright red door identical to her own, except he lived at 3C, she at 2C.

"No sign of life," she sighed, hitching her purse and bag higher up her shoulder as she made her way to her flat. Her phone buzzed as she went in, tossing her bags on the entry table and reaching to dig into the depths of her purse for the offending object. She didn’t want to answer it, but she saw it was Lesley, so she swiped up, putting it to her ear with some trepidation.

"Please don’t ask me to babysit. Please, please," she begged silently as she heard Lesley begin to talk. She didn’t not like Harry. He was an adorable child and didn’t cause much trouble when he was here, but she had been looking forward to a much-needed day off work, and babysitting a toddler hadn’t been at the top of her agenda.

"…so anyway, I know it’s your day off,” Lesley said, and Claire groaned inwardly, covering the phone with her left hand. “But I’m just stuck, and I thought...maybe you’d help me out?”

Claire gave a pained smile, even though Lesley couldn’t see her, rubbing her hand through her hair as she sighed.

“Sure, Lesley, you know I will. It’s no trouble. Just drop him by in the morning.”

Claire hung up, trying not to feel irritated by the prospect of watching a two-year-old all day. She had no plans, really, except to vegetate in front of the television, devouring Netflix true crime shows. But it sounded so good. Pizza delivery, maybe pull out her untouched bottle of whisky from some Christmas past...

"Oh well, she thought, I’ll just get through it. I’ll have another day off eventually." She thought. It then registered that she was due to work some night shifts coming up. "Oh... fun," she groaned to her empty apartment.

Claire glanced at her ceiling when she heard footsteps upstairs. Jamie was home. What was he doing tonight, she wondered. Was his girlfriend over? Did he have a date, or was he, too, looking at an evening of solitary drinking?

Claire nearly jumped out of her skin when her doorbell rang. She shuffled to the door, warily looking through the peephole. She wasn’t in the mood for visitors.

Puzzled, she saw a young teenager standing there holding a plastic bag, marked with a local restaurant’s logo. He wore a bright red hat, had more zits than craters on the moon, and he bore a scowl. Slowly, Claire opened the door, knowing she hadn’t ordered anything.

“Did you order this, lady?” the kid spat, holding the bag out to her, desperate to unload his delivery and get out of there.

“Er...no...What’s the address?”

“I don’t know, It’s smudged. I’m just...working my way around.” The kid shrugged, still holding out the bag.

“Well...I didn’t order it. Sorry. Try upstairs. Above me, perhaps? I know my neighbor just got home.”

The kid sighed, drawing the bag away from Claire. He didn’t say anything, but slowly turned around and, swinging the bag around in a wide arc, growled as he started to make his way up the stairway. Claire waited at her door, hearing the delivery attempt upstairs.

Hearing Jamie’s voice, she put her face in her palm, frustrated with herself. She could’ve made that delivery. She could’ve been standing in front of him now, complete with food. They could’ve eaten dinner together, watched a movie, somehow become entangled on his bed…

Shut up, Beauchamp!

She grabbed her phone, dialed to order a pizza, and slumped on the couch, resigned to her fate as a spinster, alone in front of Murder by Numbers for yet another evening. She folded her arms, brows knit, imagining Jamie upstairs with the girl he definitely had over. Why couldn’t she be hopelessly in love with someone at work, someone she saw every day? Someone she’d seen the bottom half of? That would make it easier. She always imagined Jamie as being about her height, but she could tell just from what she’d seen of his arms that he worked out. When he wore the sleeveless t-shirts, she always marveled at his biceps and had recurring dreams about them draped around her waist.

She also knew he was a Scot, a transplant from somewhere north. She wondered if he ever wore a kilt because she figured she’d pay good money to see it. Oh, she was pathetic, she knew, but she didn’t care when she was alone in her thoughts. She wondered if it would do her good to get a cat. Perhaps then she wouldn’t do so much daydreaming. Surely it wasn’t healthy.

#outlander #outlander fic #outlander fanfiction #writing #lord help me #i will try to post more at least weekly...#i'm excited about this one though #i even have it all planned out!#that's never happened...ever #enjoy!#feedback welcome

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1273

What was the longest time you’ve had the hiccups for? Maybe for half an hour? Mine are never that bad.

What type of TV shows are your favourite? Not a big TV show type of person to begin with since it seems as if my attention span wasn’t built for once-a-week, season-breaks kind of content haha. I do like sitcoms, I guess...bite-sized ones like Friends, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Big Bang Theory, etc. Drama shows I’d bite into if the plot is extremely intriguing to me or relevant to my interests, like The Crown or Breaking Bad.

Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? I was before then I wasn’t for a very long time, then I came back just recently with this BTS shit I got myself into.

Do you know anyone who has died in battle? Hmm. I don’t think so. My great-grandpa lived a few more decades after the war.

When was the last time you went on an adventure? July. My friends and I spent the whole day driving around and stopping by sooo many spots around the metro. It was a lot of fun and we were fucking b e a t after.

What brand is your vacuum cleaner? I dunno. My mom mainly uses ours.

Are you good at rapping? I have a number of songs and verses memorized that I can recite quite okay, but I can’t write any of my own.

Name one world issue that upsets you. Racism.

How do you feel about tanning? I never saw the the big deal. I will say tanning beds and salons are such a culture shock to me, though. Are some people really that obsessed with modifying their skin tone?

Have you ever given a public speech? Hmm, just the one time I was entered into a public speaking competition and was given a topic to talk about on the spot. That was honestly a lot of fun and I wish there were more opportunities to do that exact same thing.

Do you read comic books? No. I tried getting into that whole thing, but didn’t see the appeal.

Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? Not always but if I’m starting to feel left out or awkward, I will start to ask a question here and there to ease my way into the conversation. But if the topic is clearly none of my business then I do stay out of the way.

Kiss with your eyes open or closed? Closed.

Do you believe you can change someone? This isn’t a black and white matter, I think. The idea of changing a person can have a lot of layers; in my org, for instance, I got to pick up a few quirks and behaviors from my friends just by being around them for a long time – in that sense, I changed. But you can also strive to change someone who’s struggling and try to make them become happy, which I tried to do with my ex – which of course I learned the hard way that you can’t change someone if in that context.

How did you react when your first pet died? I was bummed out but didn’t throw a fit.

Have you ever drawn anime? No.

Can you use a pogo stick? I’ve never even seen one in real life. I’m dying to try it out just once.

When’s the next time you’ll see the person that you like? I don’t like anybodyyy.

Do you like bathing/showering? I mean...yes? Like I’m not obsessed with showering, but it’s a necessity that I have to regularly do anyway lmao.

Have you ever considered entering a race? Sure! Just give me a couple of weeks to practice because my endurance and stamina are embarrassing.

Rihanna or Lady Gaga? Rihanna.

Who was your first good kiss with? My ex.

What accessory do you want in your bedroom? SHELVES

What do you take the most pictures of? My experiences.

What are you always in the mood for? Starbuuuuuuckssssssss.

What is something that you never turn down? A day out with friends. I’ll always make time. What is something that you always turn down when offered? Food, if I’m a guest at someone else’s place.

Name something sexy about your significant other. I don’t have any.

What is one of your hobbies that you refuse to give up? Surveys, I guess. I enjoy them too much and have been doing them for nearly a decade.

If you could be a professional in any sport what would it be? Tennis.

If you could be a professional at any instrument what would it be? PIANO.

Would you rather be a surgeon or mortician? Surgeon. I would be too terrified seeing dead people, anyway.

Have you ever been on a subway? Nope.

Are you in love? No.

Do you like having your lip softly bitten when you’re kissing? Sure. Softly, roughly...both are fine hahaha.

Do you want to get married when you’re older? I hope so. I want my turn, too.

What was the last band shirt you wore? Eh, I don’t own any. I wore a fanmade V-themed shirt yesterday, if that counts.

You can have a milkshake right now. What flavor do you choose? OMGGGG that sounds so fucking good rn. Chocolate chip cookie dough.

Have you ever given someone flowers? Mhm, I used to give my ex bouquets whenever it was our anniversary.

What day of the week is usually your busiest day? Monday like 98% of the time, so I hate them. It ultimately varies, though. Sometimes some days are a hell of a lot more hectic than others.

Do you have any concerts coming up? I mean...obviously not.

Do you like or hate the smell of fish? Oh yessssssss. The smell of seafood/ocean always makes me fucking drool.

What’s your favorite brand of chips? Pringles, or this local brand of salted egg chips that I love to get.

Have you ever written a poem and then read it aloud? Yeah, once. We had to write a poem as our homework and my teacher picked out a couple that he thought were the best-written, and one of them was mine even though I still firmly believe I did a shit job.

Do you like pineapple? Oh god no. One of the worse fruits I’ve had.

Does your house have a dishwasher? No. It seems to be just a Western thing.

Do you know anyone who has a flower tattoo? I probably do, but I just can’t give you a lineup of names. Flower tattoos seem to be trendy these days, especially in the line style.

How many different languages can you say goodbye in? So I have goodbye, paalam, 안녕히 가세요, adios, auf wiedersehen, sayonara, au revoir...so that’s 7.

Agree or disagree: You like Adam Sandler movies. Ummmm definitely childish and I can feel that the humor tries so hard sometimes but I do enjoy some of his movies, like 50 First Dates.

Have you ever had to get a tooth pulled? If so, what for? Yeah, I mentioned this on a previous survey.

Have you ever dated anyone while they were in jail? No, I’ve never dated anyone who’s been imprisoned.

If you’ve ever babysat, do you like it? I ‘babysat,’ but technically all eldest Asian daughters are expected to look out for their younger siblings and cousins anyway. I didn’t actively enjoy it, but sure, it was fun playing with them and it’s always nice to be viewed as responsible.

What is your favorite flavor on sunflower seeds? I don’t eat sunflower seeds. I don’t dislike them, I just really never seek them out.

Do you get cold easily? Yes.

Do you get a lot of spiders in your house? Hmm no. If we do get visited they are almost always too small to be seen.

Do you admire nature? Yeah, I try to be around it as often as I can.

Name one naughty thing you’ve done. Had sex while a few people were in the same room. I pay for it now hahaha; those friends who had the misfortune to be in that situation have never let me live it down and it’s one of their go-to stories when I’m being introduced to new friends.

Name two of your favorite things as a child. I loved everything Bratz. I also liked Play-Doh.

Do you own a Pillow Pet? No, I’ve never even heard of that.

Do you tend to solve problems with violence? Never.

Have either of your parents gone to jail? Nope.

Do you know a hoarder? I heard my grandma had been one, but I didn’t see traces of it when I used to visit her. I guess she had been when she was younger and stronger. I show traces of hoarding too, but I don’t think it’s at a concerning level; I literally just threw out a bunch of shit in my room I’ve hoarded over the last five or so years.

Do you wax, pluck, or leave your eyebrows? I don’t touch them; I’m never all that worried about my appearance. On very rare instances, I will shave some of the excess hair off. Do you have any interesting scar stories? None of them are interesting tbh, just results of my own stupidity.

Do you hate the texture of meatballs? I don’t hate their texture but I also just don’t enjoy meatballs in general. I find them boring, which has always led me to think if they’re really supposed to be just boring clumps of meat or if I’ve just always been served average meatballs.

Do you get migraines? Yes, I usually get one after work. They’ve decreased in frequency now but one will drop by every now and then to give me a shit time.

Do you like guns? No.

Are turtles amazing creatures? All animals are. :') < Yes! Except cockroaches.

How much time do you spend taking surveys? I dedicate an hour or so every weekend. I often wish I can allot more time, but I also have other hobbies and interests I would usually want to catch up on during the weekends. 48 hours is just too short :(

Would you rather visit: The Eiffel Tower or Egyptian Pyramids? Pyramids, in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t even need to think about it.

Would you like to work at a candy shop? Uh no. If I had to, it would be on the back-end, maybe in the corporate side of things lol.

Do you have feelings for someone? Nope.

Which one of your guy friends is the best looking? JM.

Do you have anything to say to your ex bf/gf? No.

Which band do you have the most of on your iPod/music player? I don’t use music players anymore but my Spotify always reminds me of how much I listen to BTS whenever they do one of their quirky listening habit reports lol.

Which song describes your mood at the moment? I want to go with RM’s Bicycle just because I’m feeling quite content and relaxed at the moment.

Which movie(s) do you quote the most? Eh, I’m not a big movie quoter.

Which one of your best friend’s friends would you most likely date? I honestly don’t see any of them as date-able.

Would you ever let anybody else drive your car? Sure. I’ve let Hans and Gab drive it countless times when I’ve had too much to drink. It’s a small car and is fairly easy to use and navigate. I would let Anj use it too at some point, but I want her to perfect her u-turns first hahahaha.

Which one of your friends will be the most successful? It’s already one of my friends to begin with but I’m not naming names. They come from a privileged background to begin with and their godfather already handed one of his companies down to them, so. They were also told the CEO position is already a sure slot for them.

What store did you last shop at? I wanna say NCAT, this Korean-themed store that sells trinkets and jewelries and plushies and stuff. They also sell BTS albums so Anj and I dropped by to check out and touch all the albums we can’t afford yet HAHA

Do you think telepathy is real? No.

When did you last draw something for fun? Last Saturday when I played an online drawing/guessing game with my uncles and aunts.

Who makes the most in your entire family? My dad.

Do you like writing essays? I love essays, it’s my favorite writing piece to make.

Do you think plastic surgery is no big deal? It turns into one when it gets obsessive, like when people get excessive plastic surgeries specifically to look like another person. I’m looking at you, fucking Oli London.

Do you take your trash to the dump or have it picked up? It’s picked up.

When you sneeze do you sneeze into your shirt or your hands? I look away and just sneeze. Sometimes I’ll put up my elbow.

Do you usually have sex in the morning, noon or night time? Erm, I usually had it at night. I only had morning sex when we would spend the night; and I nearly never had noon sex.

Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test? No.

Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne? Gun to my head, Lil Wayne.

Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently: Reena!!! I’m so grateful Angela introduced us to each other :) We both tend to get shy so we don’t actually actively get chatty when we see each other irl, but I love her presence and I love that she is my friend. I make up for it by being super friendly and wacky in our group chat haha. Does your car have a sunroof? No. We used to have a car that did, but we had to sell that during the peak of the pandemic.

Are you closer to your mom or your dad? Dad.

Have you ever had a friend with benefits? No.

Who’s the last person you cuddled with? My ex.

Are you friends with any of your teachers on Facebook? Yeup.

#survey #surveys

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thanksjro · 4 years

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“Bullets”, a Last Stand of the Wreckers prose story- Ironfist Solves a Murder Mystery

Now that Overlord and Rewind have been exploded horribly in the vacuum of space, multiple people have died, and Chromedome’s horrifically single, let’s take a look at all those Last Stand of the Wreckers extras, yeah?

We more or less start with a Furmanism, as is tradition.

One day Furmanisms won’t be nearly as prevalent within the comic publications, and that is a day that I cannot wait to see. Forget politics, forget misogyny, forget basically NEEDING Death of the Author in effect to enjoy anything the man’s done- Furmanisms are a crutch that everybody in this franchise uses, but nobody needs. They never feel natural, in my opinion. It’s like a literary obligation at this point, and you can tell, because it never quite meshes with any writer’s style.

Anyway, this is the setup for what would happen on Pova- the Wreckers have been watching Squadron X fix up their ship, and now that the thing’s airborne again they’ve gotten itchy trigger fingers. Well, some of them, anyway. Rack n Ruin aren’t so sure about this whole thing, seeing as there are eight of them and an entire battalion up there. Impactor’s working the crowd though, as a leader of such a high turnover rate group is required to do, and that’s the point where First Aid stops reading.

Yep, this is one of Fisitron’s datalog entries, of which First Aid is a fan.

This isn’t First Aid’s first appearance within the IDW continuity- he played a role in Spotlight: Jazz, where he lived up to his name, and in Transformers: Ironhide #1, where he was in the background. This IS his premiere as a major player in a story, however, and it’s here that he’s revealed to be a bit of a slacker- he should be making the rounds at Delphi right now, but instead he’s reading entry logs about the wartime equivalent of a boyband.

He hits a key to quicktab to something at least somewhat medically-related as he feels someone approaching from behind. It’s the CMO, and he is in no way fooled by First Aid’s attempt to hide his shame. He gets back to work, but that particular entry- 113, because of course it is- is still on his mind. Hope he never finds out it’s a load of bunk.

I REALLY hope he never finds out this is all bunk. We all need something, you know?

Of course, First Aid- y’know, not to brag or anything- personally met one of the Wreckers. Roughly five years ago, Springer had approached him at a medical conference on Kimia. Why a medical conference was being held on Kimia of all places isn’t addressed, but it was probably because half the folks stationed there are doctors. First Aid, being a classy guy, fucking ogles Springer the entire time they’re talking.

You’ve heard of “Men Writing Women”, now it’s time for “Roberts Writing Robots”. Yes, this is THAT scene, and it’s on the first goddamn page.

First Aid, wanting to be of use to his idol, offers his medical expertise, completely willing to fix Springer’s nose, give him a breast reduction, and even update the circuit dampeners he doesn’t have. Springer, while flattered, isn’t looking for that sort of help. He’s looking for folks who have a lot to give.

The phrasing he uses makes First Aid think that he’s about to be recruited to the Wreckers- in other words, about to be put in line for a slow and awful death- but Springer clarifies that he’s looking more for eyes and ears to help him, not so much bodies. He hands First Aid a card with his number, and says to give him a call sometime.

Cutting back to the present, First Aid is walking through the rows of patient slabs, where we see an honestly horrifying practice in play- every patient in Delphi has their non-essential functions turned off to conserve power. This includes things like the ability to move, and speak.

Because that couldn’t possibly have any negative repercussions.

He checks in on the Fader he’s been assigned, confirms that, yes, his head IS still missing from his neck, then makes to walk out of the room, only to be startled by the sudden entry of a stretcher and Ambulon. Here, Ambulon is identified as a chief paramedic, as opposed to being a ward manager. Whether this is early installment weirdness or a simple mistake isn’t clear.

Ambulon is quickly followed by Dogfight, Dodger, and Backstreet(’s back, alright!) First Aid gets to work, by checking the three of them for injuries, paying special attention to their Autobot badges.

This is the reason Rung had to call in at the beginning of MTMTE #4, though it might be more because First Aid can’t act like a professional of five friggin’ minutes.

Oh, Delphi’s HR department is getting a call for sure.

First Aid, while a known fondler of badges, has never had this exact reaction. He runs off to make a phone call, leaving the injured Dodger to wait for the surgery he’s going to undergo the moment First Aid gets back.

Meanwhile, somewhere else- I’m guessing Kimia- Rung has an appointment underway with a dude named Flattop.

Flattop’s TFWiki article is one of the most depressing on the entire site, and it’s completely “Bullets”’s fault.

You see, Flattop’s attempting to talk through his trauma, but it’s difficult.

This level of insight is why they pay Rung the big bucks.

The war, while terrible for everyone’s mental health, has given Rung a slew of patients to handle.

Gee, wonder who that medic was.

Anyway, so Flattop’s deal- he was at Babu Yar, which was an event that was apparently so terrible, everyone involved was offered brand new bodies as compensation. He’s currently hiding underneath a table, which Rung identifies as “playing to type”. Flattop isn’t even here to talk about Babu Yar, but it’s good to know that war is still hell.

The reason Flattop’s actually here is this: he was serving under Silverstreak- another one of Rung’s patients, and someone who I’m convinced might actually be a Warrior cat given the name- and was going to check something out when he saw something utterly terrifying.

Rung gets Flattop out from under the table, and they talk about what the Shimmer means. Flattop is convinced that since he’s seen the thing, he’s going to die. You see, folklore in space is very similar to its counterpart on Earth, in that it’s a warning swathed in story to make it easily digestible.

Rung, who tries to keep things rational, offers to give Flattop a few possible explanations for what he saw. Because Flattop had only recently gotten his hot new bod a short while before he saw the Shimmer, it’s completely possible he had had a hallucination due to the adjustment period. Another theory is that Flattop has PTSD. Which, I mean, yeah.

While Rung was busy trying to explain what had happened, Flattop friggin’ died.

Awkward.

Over with Ironfist- because “Bullets” is a prequel- we’re in the middle of a meeting with the Ethics Committee. Xaaron, Animus, and Trailbreaker of all people, have come together to pass judgement on Ironfist’s cerebro-sensitive bullets. There’s a lot of hemming and hawing, and Ironfist reflects on how they got to this moment, while fiddling with a data slug to burn off the nerves.

This is just after the Surge happened, an event kicked off by the betrayal of the Autobot cause allowed Megatron to seize a majority of the Autobot outposts. It was a huge deal, a lot of shit was stolen, including the Weak Anthropic Principle, and it left everyone a little twitchy towards one another. Trust is not in vogue at present.

Kimia’s in a mess of trouble anyway, however, due to the events of Babu Yar, where Gideon’s Glue had rained down on the Autobot troops under Flame’s command, eaten to Swiss cheese by something eerily similar to something being developed on the station.

So an investigation was established. Brainstorm, who’s apparently big man on campus here at Kimia, is questioned, as is everyone else. Of course, no one cops to having invented Gideon’s Glue, because that’s a big ol’ war crime, so the questioning goes nowhere, but now there’s a precedent for mistrust on this science station.

Anyway, back to the bullet thing.

Ironfist’s cerebro-sensitive bullets are designed to hit the head, every single time, ignoring trajectory, ballistic physics, what you think is possible, and the Geneva Convention. It’s fired, it hits the first brain it identifies. Brutal stuff. Effective, but brutal.

Trailbreaker’s not a fan.

I mean, maybe? I guess it depends how gray your morality is. I bet Prowl would like them.

After telling Trailbreaker to keep it professional, Xaaron tells Ironfist that using these bullets would be a literal war crime, and he’s got a little over a day to hand them over to the Committee for destruction. Meeting adjourned!

Ironfist is left standing there until his good buddy Skyfall checks in on him. Ironfist is kind of bummed out, but Skyfall knows how to cheer him up- by comparing him to Impactor, former leader of the Wreckers, and one of Ironfist’s fan-crushes.

Man, this makes the Pova reveal a little harsher in hindsight, huh?

Skyfall invites Ironfist to the Exit Rooms, a place where the Kimia employees can drink and no one will give a shit, and as they make their way over they run into Brainstorm.

Brainstorm gets some interesting development in this story.

That’s right, not only are his weapons completely insane, and in some cases literally abstract, they’re apparently often so incredibly dangerous that the Ethics Committee loses sleep over the fact that they exist.

And Brainstorm loves it.

No wonder Trailbreaker was so annoyed in his Spotlight.

Skyfall asks about what’s in Brainstorm’s briefcase, gets an answer that’s likely a lie, then the boys head over to the Exit Rooms.

Over on Hydrus 5, it’s raining cats and dogs, and this is somehow the Transformers fault. I guess the universe bends to the will of what would be the most dramatic, as everyone takes a break from warmongering to soul-search.

Or ego-stroking. That works too.

Here is our dear Pyro, reveling in the aftermath of a battle that destroyed the natural ecosystem of the land, but at least they kicked those ‘Cons’ asses!

Pyro, who’s revealed to be maybe perhaps not the best at coming up with one-liners, is left alone for a bit as Afterburner goes to check on the rest of their men. As he tries to piece together a speech to deliver, he sees a green something- they’re always green, aren’t they?- and that something is the Shimmer.

Well, heck.

Over on the dilapidated space station of Debris (wow, that’s even less subtle than usual for this franchise) Springer’s holding a bullet. I mean, it’s not really a bullet, and the Decepticon who fired it wasn’t really a Decepticon.

I want you to know that I keep track of how many times 113 comes up in these stories, and for “Bullets" it’s a LOT.

Today’s letter from Agent 113 foreshadows/hindshadows the events of Last Stand, claiming that the DJD hasn’t heard anything from Garrus-9 since the Surge happened. Prowl’s concerned that Fortress Maximus is still alive in there and fighting off the Decepticons while waiting for backup, so he recently called Springer and invited the Wreckers on a mission.

All Springer has to do is pick some sorry sons of guns to die.

Over with Guzzle, who is romanticizing a weapon, comparing his gun to a religious artifact, our dear little bastard man has realized that he does, in fact, have emotions, and is in mourning over his lost comrades, who died rescuing Kup from Tsiehshi. Guzzle doesn’t much appreciate this whole “feeling” thing, and would rather it didn’t get in the way of him shooting statues for no other reason than him wanting to. Then he sees the Shimmer, and feels fear. He doesn’t much care for that, either.

Even Nick Roche is powerless to stop this madness.

We reconfirm the fact that Ironfist is a massive nerd, then are shown that the bullet accident that will have killed him by the end of Last Stand #5 has already happened. Ever so slowly, the bullet is heading for Ironfist’s brain. Every time it hits a new layer of his noggin, he blacks out.

Ironfist is going to leave on his super-fun, not-at-all-traumatizing Wrecker adventure soon, and he’s promised Skyfall his workshop. Skyfall was at Grindcore for a while, and that kind of gave him PTSD, so when Ironfist had gotten accepted to Kimia, he’d brought him along for the ride.

I like to call Grindcore Eugenesis-lite.

Because Skyfall is a reckless son of a gun with access to Ironfist’s workshop, he inadvertently caused a major incident with something called Black Phosphex, which resulted in the deaths of several Autobots because it wasn’t properly tested. This landed him in Garrus-9 for a bit, in a temporary career-path deviation, until it was time to come home to Kimia, just in time for the Inquiry.

Are stans always this intense? Because good lord, Ironfist.

Over at Karashi Delta, in the aftermath of a fierce battle, Rotorstorm is hyping himself the fuck up.

But does he buy it himself?

Hmm, survey says no.

Of course, verbal abuse isn’t the only thing we’ll be getting here. No, things begin to escalate pretty rapidly with Jetstream, who moves from shoving to almost beating Rotorstorm to death in a matter of months, before disappearing from the station forever.

Dang, this Jetstream fella kinda sucks. What’s his friggin’ problem?

Ah.

Again, I can’t stress this enough, Whirl’s awful flipper claws from back during his time as a cop do not make a nice fist. He was basically stabbing Rotorstorm. Who let this man be a teacher?

Rotorstorm is snapped out of his self-deprecating flashbacks by the sight of something on the canyon lip up ahead. It’s the gotdang Shimmer. Rotorstorm books it, not wanting to be caught by a harbinger of death. It doesn’t work, but points for trying.

Back on Debris, Springer’s picked his new recruits. Now all he has to do is call them up. Hey, isn’t Springer green? Green like the Shimmer? How about that.

Back on Kimia, Skyfall’s wandered into Ironfist’s workshop to share the gossip on Fisitron’s latest Wreckers: Declassified. Folks are a bit critical of his writing style, it would seem.

Of course Swerve knows what fan-fiction is. He seems like exactly the type to make fun of it, then read a 43,000 word fic in a single sitting, under cover of darkness, burning with shame all the while.

After making a note on his current Wreckers: Declassified document to ease up on the adverbs, Ironfist switches gears and gets busy on his other project: an Unofficial Wreckers’ Training Guide. I wonder when the switch from Primal Vanguard to Wreckers as a hyperfixation happened for him.

Ironfist asks Skyfall what entry he’s currently on, and the answer is a ways away from the latest one. Skyfall’s a slow reader, but he doesn’t want to just beam it all into his brain because it feels like cheating. He asks Ironfist when he’s going to cover the Wreckers’ mission to Garrus-9, the one that happened while he was there being not-imprisoned. Ironfist gives a non-answer, then asks if Skyfall wants to help with packing up the war-crime guns. Skyfall most certainly does not.

Ironfist starts breaking everything down when he gets a call from Prowl, as happened in Last Stand #4.

Back with Springer, we’re giving our dad a hug, as he greets Kup. It’s here we find out who Ironfist replaced on the Wrecker team for Operation: Retrieval- it was Skyfall. Skyfall had impressed Springer during their last Garrus-9 excursion, and thought that he’d be a good fit for the team, despite the Black Phosphex incident.

Kup goes full old man story time mode about how insanely boring Prowl is, while Springer gets the door. On the other side is Twin Twist, Top Spin, and Perceptor. They hold the vote, Ironfist given immunity due to unmentioned Prowl reasons, and Springer gets ready to call all their new pals.

Back at Ironfist’s workshop, Ironfist reflects on just how his life got to this point. He’s going to join the Wreckers! Never mind the fact that he’ll be going to die, and that’s if the bullet crawling around in his skull doesn’t get him first. Never mind the very likely possibility that he’s being exploited by Prowl. Nah, he’s gonna go on an adventure! It’s gonna be awesome! Yaaaaay!

It doesn’t pay to be blue and naive when Roberts is handling the story. Just ask Pipes.

Or don’t. You won’t get an answer.

Called it.

Ironfist, starstruck, bumbles his way through the conversation we saw in the Mosaic, and so it was that he became a Wrecker. All he has to do is pop on over to Rung’s office, get his head examined, then get his butt on over to Babu Yar.

Telecon work completed, Springer reflects on the fact that Guzzle turned him down. It’s not often someone turns down the chance to be a Wrecker.

Oh, well, never mind then.

Ironfist immediately tells Skyfall about what’s happened, because he’s just so jazzed to be a Wrecker. Skyfall isn’t quite as thrilled, but does his best to be supportive.

And by that I mean he’s not listening in the slightest as he’s already planning out the interior design for the workshop once Ironfist is gone. I bet he’ll get Atomizer to help him, the tacky bastard.

Skyfall runs off to go look at paint swatches or whatever, and Ironfist finalizes the stuff for the Ethics Committee pickup.

Oh, so that appointment wasn’t on Kimia after all. Can we please get some sort of fast-track program for the mental health specific degrees? We can’t keep using Rung for everybody, he’s only one person.

Oh heavens, Ironfist, be careful.

Ironfist gets another call, and we jump scenes before we can figure out just who rang or why.

Brief timeskip, and we find ourselves at Babu Yar, as Ironfist introduces himself to Guzzle and his gun.

Ironfist is about as smooth as coarse-grit sandpaper.

While Ironfist is busy revealing his nerd shame to Guzzle, someone’s decided to be a cocky little asshole.

Oh, dramatic irony. Always a delightful sort of pain.

Rotorstorm cranks up the “I’m hot shit” act to 11.5, doing completely unnecessary flips and talking himself up like he will literally die if he doesn’t.

Off in the distance, something disingenuously impressive comes up over the hill.

Of course, it’s not Optimus Prime, but it is someone who would very much like to be him. Such is the nature of primus apotheosis. Gang’s all here!

This is going to turn out fan-fucking-tastic.

Rotorstorm and Guzzle want to play with the big gun Ironfist brought along, and since Ironfist is going to die anyway, he lets them go for it. This would be why everything was on fire at the start of the miniseries.

Yep. Just gotta make it hurt just a little more, doncha Roberts? Just gotta twist the knife.

Nine months after the events of the Garrus-9 mission, Skyfall is upset. He’s gone and played himself by not attending the Ethics Committee hearings, and they’ve taken all his toys away as a result. He tries to mask his lack of concern for safety precautions behind a facade of missing Ironfist, but it doesn’t get him the weapons back.

Feeling cross, he decides it’s about time he made a visit to the Exit Rooms to blow off a little steam.

Later, he gets a call. Worried that his lack of ethics and/or his drunken squabbling has gotten him in trouble yet again, he’s loathe to answer, but does anyway.

Ghost call!

No, it’s actually a prerecorded message, one that claims that Skyfall killed Ironfist. Ironfist had asked Brainstorm to take a gander at the gun after he got shot, and found that it had been tampered with, set to go off on its own when held a certain way. That’s who was calling before he left for his Wrecker mission.

Skyfall starts to panic, expecting the security detail for Kimia to bust into the workshop at any second.

Ironfist knows that only Skyfall could have done this to him, but he doesn’t know the exact motive. Was it because he was jealous of how good a weapons expert he was? A chip on his shoulder about Grindcore? Whatever the reason, Ironfist isn’t terribly concerned at the time of the recording. What he is concerned about is Gideon’s Glue.

Ironfist had, in fact, invented Gideon’s Glue, but he’d been so horrified by what the shit actually did, he flushed it into space and destroyed all research before the Ethics Committee even knew about it. It still got to the Decepticons, though, didn’t it? How could such a thing happen?

Probably not, considering what happens next.

Ironfist is a smart guy, but more importantly, he knows how to reach his audience. Literally, in this case, as Skyfall finds out, when the Enforcement Squad starts trying to break down the door. Ironfist had the message that Skyfall is currently listening to primed for beaming into all of Fisitron’s reader’s brains. Everyone knows what happened. Swerve. Atomizer. Ratchet, who’s over on Earth right now. First Aid, who has enough bullshit to worry about on Delphi without this nonsense. You. Me. Everyone.

Skyfall, in a mad attempt to save himself, throws some of Ironfist’s Wrecker memorabilia at the door, and out pops that last tube of Gideon’s Glue.

There’s only one way out of this one.

This got really intense at the end, didn’t it?

#transformers #jro #jro punches me in the face #last stand of the wreckers #bullets #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing #wreckers trilogy

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duhragonball · 3 years

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (151/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story takes place about 1000 years before 66 years after the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[27 February, Age 850. Toki Toki City.]

"I'll be honest," Trunks said. "I don't know if we can rely on her."

He stood in the kitchen of Chronoa's house, his lavender hair casting a gloomy shadow over his concerned brow. The Vault of Time looked like a fortress in the center of the Time Nest, a daunting structure of grey stone. In sharp contrast, the Supreme Kai of Time lived in a modest Capsule house, with rocket engines and other half-assembled machines scattered all around it. The epicenter of this clutter lay inside the house, where Chronoa maintained a collection of gadgets and nick-nacks. Some were displayed on overcrowded shelves, while others lay in various piles strewn in every room. Trunks had cleared an assortment of vacuum tubes off the stove to brew tea.

"You made the wish," Chronoa said from her sofa. "You asked Shenron for a strong ally, one who could help you defend time itself. And Shenron granted your wish. He sent you Luffa. Do you think the Eternal Dragon made a mistake?"

"The Dragon doesn't make mistakes," Trunks said. "At least, that's what I would have said before today. But now, she's blown a mission, and she's terrified at the thought of trying again. What's worse, we can't afford to send anyone else in her place. The enemy made a big play in that battle with the Ginyu Force, and if we reset the mission we might lose our chance to track them. Oh, and I almost forgot how she got you hurt."

"You're being unfair," Chronoa said. "Healing Luffa's injuries was my call, not hers. You saw how upset she was. I didn't think we could wait to get her to the hospital."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Trunks said. "Your healing ability transfers the wounds of others onto yourself. You've used it on me before, and I'm grateful, but... A power like that... Well, it bothers me. I don't know how else to put it."

"It has its uses," Chronoa said. "You can learn a lot about someone by taking on their pain for a little while."

The staff at the Toki Toki hospital had healed the Kai, but her movements were slightly stiff and more careful than usual. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but Trunks could tell. The healers in Toki Toki City were capable of restoring a person to perfect health in a matter of moments, but somehow they never seemed to finish the job properly when it came to the Supreme Kai of Time. He didn't know why that was, or what it meant. So he chose to focus on the kettle and making sure he had the correct burner turned on.

"Are you ready for the water?" Chronoa asked.

Trunks was about to ask what she meant, and then the kettle began to whistle. As he reached out for the handle, he noticed a slight distortion around the kettle's surface. Then he looked back and saw the Kai holding out her hand towards the stove. He had seen her do this before, using her control over the flow of time to speed up or slow down the movements of objects, but he hadn't considered how this could be used to boil water.

"Uh, thanks," Trunks said. "I guess that's one ability I can get used to."

He prepared the cups and brought them to the coffee table next to the sofa. Then he double checked the sofa for any loose circuit boards or cogs. When he was sure the cushion was clear, he sat down beside her.

"You're so sure that Luffa will recover from all of this, and then she'll come back and see this mission through," he said. "I don't suppose you can speed that up the same way you did the kettle."

"Maybe I could," she said with a childish grin, "but I'm in no hurry with her. It's like we always say around here: There's time."

"I know," Trunks said. "I mean, I understand that Toki Toki City sits outside of the normal flow of time, and that it doesn't matter if we send her back to Namek today or a year from now. But we still have to send her back eventually, and until we do, we can't do anything else in the meantime."

"Sure we can!" Chronoa said. "We're having tea, aren't we?"

"I... I'm not gonna win this discussion, am I?" Trunks said with a sigh. "All right, fine. Could you at least share with me why you're not worried about Luffa? Maybe then we could both enjoy our tea."

"Sure!" Chronoa said, "Why didn't you ask sooner?" She set her cup on the table and held up her hands to start counting her fingers as she spoke. "First, I know enough about the Dragon Balls to know they wouldn't let us down. Second, I've learned a thing or two about Saiyans from working with you, Trunks. I don't think she'll give up on this. She's too stubborn. And third... if there's one thing I know about time, it's that it doesn't matter how you start. It's how you finish. Each of those wounds she took tells a story. I'm nothing special when it comes to fighting, but I could tell this much: she was battling harder than her body could handle."

"What do you mean?" Trunks asked. "Are you saying she lost because she overexerted herself?"

"I mean," she said as she picked up her cup to sample the tea, "she's stronger than she's letting on. I don't know if she's sandbagging for some reason, or maybe she doesn't realize what's happening to her. But she's giving it everything she has. More than she has to give, really."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Trunks asked. "What good will it do us if she burns herself out before we get to the bottom of this case?"

"Well, it's a good thing she has you for a partner, then," Chronoa said with a smile. "Besides, I think you need to give Luffa some more credit. She knew better than to dive right back into the mission. I'm sure she's taking some time to rest and recover before she tries again."

"I hope you're right," Trunks said as he sipped his tea.

*******

[3 November, Age 762. Earth.]

Luffa used to be the Legendary Super Saiyan, but she no longer had that extraordinary power. She didn't know why, unless it had something to do with her attempted self-destruction on Planet Nagaoka, or the intervention of Shenron, a mystical dragon who had reached out across time and space to pull her out of that battle and into the ranks of the Time Patrol. Luffa had fully expected to die on Nagaoka, but instead she wound up in the distant future, an era where the Saiyan species was nearly extinct, and the legend of Luffa had been utterly forgotten. With no other prospects, she threw herself into the work of the Time Patrol, until she was traumatized during a mission involving a bodyswap with the villainous Captain Ginyu.

Fear and shame had given way to boredom, and Luffa had decided to try a different activity to take her mind off her troubles. Her roommate had suggested a "Parallel Quest", and she had found a pair of Time Patrollers who offered to show her how they worked. They had planned to handle all the fighting while Luffa sat back and watched, but things had gotten out of hand.

"Luffa... run!" begged Ravi. The enemy had defeated him almost instantly, and Ravi's boyfriend, the Saiyan Mosh, was the next to fall. As Luffa knelt beside Ravi, the enemy floated high above and charged a ki attack in his index finger. Ravi's advice was very sensible.

Except Luffa couldn't run. "I'm stuck!" she told Ravi. "Some kind of psychic hold..."

"I can... reverse it!" Ravi promised. The Earthling held up his hand and offered it to her. "Take my hand, and be ready to move."

Their enemy was another Earthling called Chiaotzu, but he looked nothing like the little person Luffa had encountered in other missions to this era. Chiaotzu was at least four times his original size now, with bulging muscles and a look of unthinking hatred in his eyes. When Ravi saw him, he addressed Chiaotzu as his Master. It followed that Chiaotzu had taught Ravi how to apply this psi-lock, and how to reverse it.

And then, just as Chiaotzu fired his beam, Luffa felt her body slip free of the psychic power, and she leaped out of harm's way. The ground beneath her exploded into a fiery crater, and she alighted onto the top of a butte.

Ravi wasn't pleased with her decision to bring him along for the ride.

"What're you... doing?" he asked. "I'll only slow you down! You gotta... get Mosh out of here!"

"That's exactly what that big goof is counting on," Luffa said, gesturing toward Chiaotzu in the distance. "As soon as I put you down, he'll slap another psychic whammy on me, and I'll be finished. But as long as I keep you close by, you can protect me from those weird powers of his."

"Girl, that won't work!" Ravi protested. "He'll just come in close and pick you off! You can't fight and carry me at the same time!"

"I'm not going to fight him," Luffa said. "Not yet, anyway. I have to save your lover first."

"He...! I...! I mean, we're dating, but we aren't that serious yet!" Ravi stammered.

Luffa might have apologized for the presumption, but Chiaotzu opened fire one again, forcing her to hop from one rock formation to the next to stay clear of his attacks. The hard part came when she reached Mosh's position, and had to carry them both. Their combined weight was no trouble, but the easiest way to handle a Saiyan of Mosh's size was to drag him by his tail, and Luffa felt bad for putting him though such an undignified situation. Luckily, his ordeal was brief, as she made it to their time machine soon after.

"Inside!" Luffa shouted as she kicked open the canopy with her foot and dropped Mosh in. The Saiyan was nearly as tall as the corrupted Chaiotzu, but the time machine was big enough to hold three passengers, so she knew they would fit with room to spare. "You'll be safe in there."

"Luffa wait!" Ravi cried. "We--"

She might have stopped to listen, except Chiaotzu had closed in on her while she was dropping them off. With her arms free, Luffa swatted aside his ki blasts, but then he locked on his psychic hold, and she was immobilized in midair.

"Come on!" she growled, unable to do anything else. "Free shot, if you're brave enough to take it!"

For Chiaotzu's part, it wasn't a matter of bravery, but rather the irrational rage that consumed his thoughts like a brushfire. He charged toward Luffa, and began to pummel her with his massive fists. Luffa had been in a similar pinch while fighting Guldo of the Ginyu Force, but she decided against the strategy she had used before. In that battle, she had push against the psychic lock with her own telepathic abilities. At the time, it had seemed sensible, but she didn't want to become over-reliant on her Saiyan telepathy. She wasn't sure it would be available the next time she faced Guldo...

The next time... while she was trapped in...

... in Captain Ginyu's body...

As Chiaotzu worked her over, the realization hit her that much harder. Despite her fears, without really being aware of it, she had already made up her mind to go back and try again. She had come to this "parallel quest" in an effort to distract herself from the Ginyu mission, but in her heart of hearts, she was still fighting that last battle, even as she fought a new one against this mutated Chiaotzu.

There was something terrific and horrifying about this. It was as though her Saiyan heart would push her forward no matter badly she wanted to give up. Saving Ravi and Mosh had almost been second nature to her. Less than an hour ago, Luffa had been curled up in a fetal position in the shower.

And then, at last, the answer came to her. If Chiaotzu wanted her to hold still so badly, then she would oblige him. Instead of using her power to try to break free, she concentrated her energy inwards, using every last bit of it to fix herself to that spot. She clenched her teeth as she waited for the next blow, and when it came...

There was a loud 'clang', and Chiaotzu reeled with pain as he clutched his fist. Thanks to her ki, Luffa's body had no give to it whatsoever. She had been unhurt, while Chiaotzu's aching knuckles left him in too much pain to maintain his hold on her.

"That trick won't work on me anymore," she snarled. "Get that through your thick skull. You'll have to try something else if you want to defeat me.

He glared at her with those wide, enigmatic eyes, then said only one word: "Corn..."

"What?"

Then he rushed towards her, throwing punches and kicks with incredible speed. "Coooooorrrrrrn!" Chiaotzu wailed, seemingly for no reason.

"My name's Luffa, not Corn, you idiot!" she screamed. Fast as he was, she managed to weather the assault and responded with an explosive wave. It wasn't enough to defeat him, but it did give her some breathing room.

She pressed the attack, and danced around him, shifting left and right through the air to catch him off balance. But whenever she went in to strike, he was always ready to block.

"Hold on... You're good," Luffa said. "But not this good. What are you trying now...?"

(Luffa, he's reading your mind!)

She suddenly heard Ravi's voice in her own thoughts, and she glanced back at the time machine to make certain he and Mosh were still inside. Chiaotzu capitalized on this by kicking Luffa in the head. The blow sent her down to the ground, hard enough to shatter a nearby hillside, but not enough to defeat her.

"Oh, is that right?" Luffa grumbled after coughing up some dust. "I should have figured that out sooner."

(In my native era, Chiaotzu was an old man,) Ravi explained. (I didn't have much going for me, but he took me in. I was stealing food from his farm, and he invited me to join his dojo. He offered me a chance to become a warrior. This... this isn't how he's supposed to be!)

"I know that," Luffa said as she dodged another Dodonpa. "He's been corrupted by the same evil magic as the others. In this time fragment, the enemy must have used their power on him instead of Vegeta. Or... hell, I don't know."

"Nine...!" Chiaotzu groaned. "Minus... One!"

Luffa threw a punch, expecting him to block and counter. She fully intended to reverse his counter, but instead she was surprised to see her punch connected this time. It wasn't enough to stop Chiaotzu, but it did stagger him.

"Well now..." Luffa said with a grin, "maybe you're not as tough as I thought." She tried to follow through with a roundhouse kick, but Chiaotzu blocked this one and caught her in a throw. Before she could escape, Chiaotzu caught her with another psychic hold, and she was helpless to stop herself from being hurled into a cliffside.

"Left! Right!" Chiaotzu screamed. "Right, right, right! Left!"

Luffa took her frustration out on the rubble that surrounded her, blasting it all away until she was standing in the center of a crater. "I've had enough of your riddles!" she shouted back. "Do your worst. I won't back down until--"

"Disappear!" Chiaotzu said in a dreary monotone. And then he did disappear. Or at least, it seemed like he had. Faster than Luffa's eyes could follow, Chiaotzu suddenly appeared behind her, and caught her in a full nelson. With his immense size and power, the pain of the hold was incredible.

"Dis... a... peeeear....!" Chiaotzu said as Luffa grunted and struggled to break free. "Wish..."

"Shut up!" Luffa shouted. "You'll wish you were dead when I'm finished with you!"

But for all her bluster, Chiaotzu's psychic effect was making it difficult for her to escape the hold. Luffa considered herself an expert on such things. Joint locks were one of her specialties, and every hold she knew was accompanied by the way to escape. But these all depended on being able to control herself, and her body just wasn't responsive enough.

(Luffa, that's it!) She heard Ravi in her mind again. (He wants you to beat him!)

"Oh he does, does he? Well... he's got... got a funny way of showing it," Luffa snarled.

(Listen to me! When I was younger, he told me the story of King Piccolo. The Demon King gathered the Dragon Balls to wish for his youth, but Tien Shinhan told Chiaotzu to stop Piccolo by trying to make a wish first! 'Wish for King Piccolo to disappear!' that was what Chiaotzu tried to say, but Piccolo killed him before he could get it out!)

"Left, right, left right!" Chiaotzu droned on. Suddenly, Luffa felt herself moving forward. Chiaotzu's hold was as tight as ever, but he was floating forward, sliding across the air like a stone sliding over ice. He drove Luffa into a mesa. Then another, then another. Each time, the stone broke apart on Luffa's face like a punch from an angry giant.

(He wants you to kill him! To beat him) Ravi said. (That's his wish!)

"And how--ow! Does he expect me to do that?! Ow! Dammit!"

"Nine! Minus! One!" Chiaotzu wailed.

(That's it!) Ravi said. (When he fought Krillin in the World Martial Arts Tournament! Master Chiaotzu was always bad at math. Krillin beat him by calling out arithmetic problems, and he'd get so flustered trying to solve them that he'd leave himself wide open!)

"Fine!" Luffa muttered. "Hey, Chiaotzu! What's the square root of twelve?!"

She tried to kick at his thighs, hoping that she could cramp up his quadriceps muscle enough to make him loosen the full nelson, but instead Chiaotzu's psychic attack intensified, and she could barely move her leg enough to tap him with her heel.

"It didn't work!" she shouted, just as Chiaotzu drove her face first into another butte.

(That's because it was too hard!) Ravi said.

"Well, is he bad at math or not?!" Luffa demanded.

(Whoa, easy now. Easy,) Ravi said. (We're on the same side here!)

Luffa knew this on a factual level, but she was getting sick of Ravi's voice in her head, almost as much as she was sick of Chiaotzu's power locking up her muscles.

"What's six plus two, Chiaotzu?!" she shouted, desperate to get this over with. She almost hoped it wouldn't work, if only to disprove Ravi's suggestion. And yet...

"Uh... uhhhh..." Chiaotzu grumbled, and Luffa could feel her toes again, and a slight relief in her shoulders as his grip slackened.

"Hah!" Luffa said as she twisted her arms and slid free of Chiaotzu's hold. She withdrew to a safe distance, then opened fire with a volley of ki blasts. She expected Chiaotzu to avoid or deflect them, but they were nothing more than a diversion anyway.

"On your left!" Luffa shouted as she rushed headlong at him. Sure enough, Chiaotzu turned, expecting her to attack him on that side. She swerved at the last possible instant and blindsided him on his right.

"Ino...Shiko...Cho..." Chiaotzu moaned.

"Two minus three," Luffa said. It was almost disturbing how easy this was becoming. She hesitated a moment before trying a kick to Chiaotzu's abdomen, and yet she still managed to land the blow, and the elbow smash between his shoulders after that.

"What's 'InoShikoCho'?" Luffa asked aloud, hoping that Ravi was still listening.

(It's what he called one of our practice drills back at the dojo,) Ravi said. (Only... I don't know what that has to do with anything.)

"Don't worry," Luffa said. "I'll try and find out for myself--" As she spoke, Chiaotzu lumbered towards her, and she ducked under his massive hands and grabbed hold of his face. She hadn't tried a telepathic reading in a long time, but in her last Time Patrol mission, she had seen the Saiyan Son Goku use it on Krillin, which led her to suspect that she had recovered enough of her former strength to do the same. The Saiyans had a peculiar range of psychic talents, but before Luffa could reminisce on this, the images came flooding into her mind.

His name was Chiaotzu, and long ago he had trained under the Crane Hermit, a master whose skill was matched only by his cruelty and bitterness. The Old Crane School taught the ways of treachery and deception. Among these lessons was the InoShikoCho, a beast with the body of a boar and the antlers of a stag and the wings of a butterfly. To raise money during their training journeys, Chiaotzu and Tien Shinhan would use the InoShikoCho to grift small, isolated villages. The Crane Hermit had adopted it as a pet and trained it well, but it could pretend to be a wild animal when needed, and Tien and Chiaotzu would unleash it in villages, then offer to "capture" the beast... for a price. After pretending to subdue the InoShikoCho, and collecting their reward, they would move on to the next village and repeat the process.

But one day, Son Goku intervened. Stumbling upon the three of them sharing a meal between villages, he learned of their trickery, and when he tried to expose them, Tien was forced to betray the InoShikoCho to cover his tracks. After that, Tien and Chiaotzu knew that the creature would never trust them again. Eventually, Chiaotzu felt a similar grief when Tien defied the Crane Hermit, and Chiaotzu had to choose a side. The Crane Hermit swore he would have revenge, and when he returned, it was with his brother, the assassin Tao Pai-Pai, who beat Chiaotzu so badly at the World Martial Arts Tournament that he had to be carried out on a stretcher.

And this was what ran through Chiaotzu's mind now while he fought Luffa. Beneath the mindless rampage forced upon him by the dark magic, there was an undercurrent of sadness and regret and longing to be done with betrayal. As Ravi had said, in this moment, Chiaotzu wished for nothing more than to be made to disappear.

The depths of this despair shocked Luffa, so much so that when she snapped out of her mental link, Chiaotzu was able to knock her back with a well-placed chop to her neck. It was not enough to defeat her. Luffa knew that it would never be. For in spite of the increase in power the dark magic gave Chiaotzu, he was still holding back. The Earthling had that much willpower, at least.

"I see," Luffa said to him. "So this is the resolve of you Earthlings, then. Even in this sorry state, you keep fighting to resist this power that's come over you. It's impressive. Four minus three."

She dodged his next offensive and went around him, catching him in a belly-to-back suplex. This wasn't enough to stop him, but she was no longer trying to defeat him. Now that she understood how to beat him, she could secure victory at her leisure. Until then, she simply used her attacks to buy enough time to say her peace.

"I might not look it," she said, "but I used to be somebody important, a long time ago. Left left right." Chiaotzu fired the Dodonpa again, but she grabbed his arm and spoiled his aim, then swung around and brought her knee into his face.

"I'm not telling you this to brag. I'm not much of anyone now, not anymore. But I'm telling you this because I want you to know that I'm someone who impressed a lot of people, and you've impressed me today. Not sure if you can understand what I'm saying, but I needed to get it off my chest, okay? Your students, your memories, your pride, everything you are keeps fighting, even after your mind and body have been corrupted like this. It's... comforting. Twelve plus six. Galick Gun."

Now she was ready to defeat him. The Galick Gun she fired came quickly, with as little warning as she could give. That made it weaker than it could have been, but Ravi's prediction was true: Chiaotzu was so distracted by the numbers that he was virtually defenseless. Even a weak Galick Gun would be enough to knock him out. She intensified the power anyway, once she was certain he was too overwhelmed to stop it.

"I see what I have to do now!" she shouted. And then with a savage cry, she chased after Chiaotzu, and leaped down beside him where he fell.

"You've shown me the way," she said in a low voice as she checked to make certain he was beaten. The dark energy dissipated, and his body began to shrink to its normal size. "I'm in your debt, Earthman. I guess I should cook something tasty for your student Ravi, who honors your teachings."

Satisfied that the immediate danger was over, Luffa gathered Chiaotzu in her arms, and went back to the time machine to collect Ravi and Mosh.

*******

[28 February Age 850. Toki Toki City.]

"That should hold, for now anyway."

In the Time Vault, Trunks and the Supreme Kai of Time stood before the large table at the center of the atrium. She had just finished performing a supernatural treatment on a section of parchment from the Scroll of Eternity. Trunks did not even pretend to understand how it worked, but she said it would help, and that was good enough for him.

"Let's hope it lasts," Trunks said. "I've checked for signs of enemy activity. Nothing so far, but I can't believe they'll stay quiet for long. If they strike again... I don't suppose you can contain the ripples from two time anomalies, can you?"

The Kai looked up at him with a confident smirk. "Hey, I can do a lot of things, you know?" This made him feel a little better, but there was still a hint of worry in her eyes that kept him from smiling.

"At least we know if they strike somewhere else, we can send other Time Patrollers to deal with that," Trunks said. He gestured at the scroll on the table, which still roiled with purple energy. "But we can't resolve this current anomaly without Luffa, and there's no telling how long that could take."

"She'll be back," Chronoa said. "And we'll manage until she's ready."

He was about to reply, when suddenly a third voice called out.

"Trunks!"

He had already turned to face the entryway before he heard the voice. His ki senses had told him who it was, but he was still surprised nonetheless. Luffa marched up to the table with purpose and laid a casserole dish on the table with a loud thud.

"Luffa! Y-you're back?" Trunks asked.

"I would have gotten here sooner, but I wanted to make sure Chiaotzu was okay, only they told me I couldn't bring him back to the city. Parallel Quest stuff. It's over my head."

"You went on a Parallel Quest?" Trunks asked. "We thought you were resting..."

"After that," Luffa went on, "I made pasta for Ravi and Mosh. Took me a while, but I'm pleased with how it turned out. I made too much, and this is what wouldn't fit in the refrigerator. You like lasagna, Trunks?"

"Uh, sure," he said.

She stared at him, as though suspicious of his answer. "Good. Help yourself." She then looked at the Kai and added. "You too, Chronoa, if gods eat this sort of thing. Oh, you know what? I didn't bring any plates."

"I've got some in my house," Chronoa said. "We'll manage, but we really need to talk about how we're going to handle this scroll..."

"We already did talk about that, remember?" Luffa said. "And it's pretty simple. I'm the only one who can finish the mission, because of how I got bodyswapped with Captain Ginyu, right? So I'm going back in there, right now, and I'm going to finish it."

"Hold on," Trunks said. "You were in pretty rough shape a few hours ago. Are you sure you're feeling up to this?"

"I've got it all figured out this time," Luffa said. "Trust me."

She didn't even look at Trunks as she spoke, but instead leaned in and took the scroll before anyone could stop her. And as she vanished into the past, Trunks saw a sadistic grin on her face.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

NEXT: The Bluff.

#dragon ball #lssjluffafic #luffa #trunks #chronoa #ravi #mosh #chiaotzu #toki toki city

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.21

Tense. Things at home were tense. Lance had muttered about needing to go shopping, then left. Keith knew when to bite his tongue, and this was definitely a time for tongue biting. Wanting to do something helpful Keith put his mind to cleaning. Not like in-depth cleaning, but enough to be counted as an effort around the house. That meant first he had to find everything, then he had to argue with the washing machine as he tried to figure the damn thing out as he didn’t know if sheets were washed on the same cycle setting as clothes... if they weren’t before, they were now. Blue had acted like it was the end of the world once the vacuum cleaner went on, dramatically running from the living room so fast she skidded. Adam would have been proud of him. As was every foster family he’d never fit in with. Sure, he had anger issues, but he wouldn’t have anger issues if people stopped making him angry.

Keith got less done than he’d set out to accomplish. Barely finishing the first floor before there was the sound of a car horn out the front, the approach drowned out by Lance’s ancient vacuum that would have been tossed out long ago if Adam had seen the device. Adam really did have the one functioning brain cell between him, Shiro and Keith. The hunter knew it was unhealthy to hold onto things, Adam had died over a year ago now, but he and Shiro together had been the best family Keith had ever had. Shiro never treated him like a legacy. The child of a hunter who’s name carried far too much weight. Since being accepted into the Order and beginning his training as a cadet, he’d lived in the shadow of the great werewolf hunter Krolia. He understood why she had to leave him, why she did fought as she did, but... Shiro and Adam felt more like family to him than she did. Krolia was... she was... it was heavy to think about her accomplishments. Stowing the vacuum back in the laundry, Keith rushed back through the house, trying not to appear like he cared whether Lance was alright or not... because he didn’t.

Heading out, Lance was standing at the back of his bronco, trunk door open

“Help me carry stuff”

Lance wasn’t supposed to be doing anything exerting like carrying in the whole damn shop from the look of it

“Did we really need so much stuff?”

“Not supposed to go out, remember. So I stocked up. Before you bite my head off, I didn’t go shopping alone. I found my phone in the car and shot Hunk a message”

“You... talked to Hunk?”

“Am I not allowed?!”

The snappiness in Lance’s tone kind of hurt, as did the fact Lance had talked to Hunk before they’d had a chance to talk about their situation

“I’m not saying that. I’m just wondering what... It’s none of my business”

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have snapped. I told him Mami had a fall, well, Miriam had a fall and I was in Platt due to it. He went a little crazy shopping”

“So you’re blaming Hunk for this?”

They needed a whole army to eat the amount of food in the back of the bronco. Lance sighed as he passed Keith the first bag

“He’s a good man. I really do think he and Pidge are both interested in you, as in being friends. Sorry, can we save talking until we’re back inside. I want to wallow a little longer”

“Alright... but don’t think you’re getting out of this”

“I wouldn’t dream of it”

People were exhausting. Hunk was one of those people. He was a natural born worrier who’d worried the moment he showed up. Lance was pulled into a tight hug, hiding his discomfort as he was. Normally he loved Hunk’s hug, but he couldn’t tell him the truth and it sucked big hair testicles. Repeatedly trying to redirect the conversation from him, Hunk kept bringing up how unwell Lance looked and how he needed to eat more. Yeah. He did. But looking at all the food in the supermarket isles made him sick. It fed the knot of anxiety that’d settled in his gut. He was changing for the worse, and there was no way to back out of it now. When Matt came, everything would change again. Pidge would be over the moon to see her brother again, while Matt would be terrified of one wrong move exposing his secret. Secrets sucked. They festered like wounds. Growing and spreading that infection until you felt physically ill.

Settling down with a cup of coffee, like a normal human would, Lance stared into the cup as Keith put things away. Lance wanted to take control, he wanted to take back some kind of order in his life, yet with Keith living there, he needed to loosen up. Keith needed to know where things went and how to navigate his kitchen beyond how to use the coffee machine. Keith really seemed to like his coffee. He wasn’t so fond of broccoli, or corn for that matter, but he also never really complained about eating anymore... provided he could hover while Lance he cooked, still kind of paranoid Lance was going to poison him or something. If he was going to do that, he would taken care of Keith the second Shiro was clear of the picture.

“You look pale. Do you need blood?”

Keith’s question took Lance by surprise. He never hid his drinking blood from his friends, but they thought he was simply indulging in red wine. Keith had seen him drink, and extremely embarrassingly vulnerable. He’d swallowed down that blood bag at VOLTRON with no worries thanks to how hungry he was... So why was it now he was feeling self conscious thanks to Keith asking? And why were his teeth almost throbbing at the idea? It would be a blood bag like the rest of the times he fed, having Keith there was not his ticket to a fresh meal because he didn’t want a fresh meal. That’d mean only submitting to his vampire way

“Not yet”

“Coran said you need to keep your strength up”

“Since when did you care?”

Keith placed down the box of cereal he’d been trying to find a home for

“Since I don’t run away from mistakes I’ve made”

Ouch. Yeah. Keith had fucked up, but he was kind of trying... but only because he felt obligated too. Obligations sucked. Lance knew he was only a job to Keith, but “mistake” struck like a bullet to the heart

“Dude, ouch”

“I... I mean. I take responsibility for my actions. You’re changing because of me. We can’t ignore it”

“I can try”

Keith slammed his plan down on the kitchen bench with enough anger that Lance felt himself jump

“Why?! Why do you that? You said nothing to Luis. You didn’t try defending yourself. You didn’t ask to be turned”

He really hadn’t. He’d been such a lonely kid, he always seemed to have plenty of people around him, but he’d always felt so filled with faults that he kept messing up his friendships. Every month he seemed to have a new best friend who’d leave him to play with someone cooler and smarter than he was. Someone who better at games, and didn’t have problems with English as Spanish was the spoken language at home. He’d been alright with his siblings until they all started to grow older... then they’d all sort of... given up on their little brother

“Luis gave into his fear long ago”

“That doesn’t make it right. He tried to have you hunted”

“I know he did. Look, I’m way too sober for that conversation. But you’d be right if you thought I ruined our family. No one knew how to handle a kid with flashbacks, nightmares and all the things that come with being a vampire. I’m happy they all got out and had a life...”

“The rest of your family’s like that? Like, Luis?”

“It’s complicated. They don’t understand why I’m the way I am. Why I don’t drive a car in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, why I live in a house that’s a cross between farmhouse and plantation. Why I work so cheaply when I could be earning more. They all think I sponge off Mami, and stay with her so I have control over her. It’s easier to pick your battles and the way I see it, Mami won’t live forever. I’ve caused her enough pain that shouldn’t have to see me fighting with my siblings. Fuck... I really am way too sober”

Taking off his glasses, Lance leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms. Keith didn’t know his life outside of whatever he’d read. He didn’t know how hard it was in the house to have a blood sucker. He didn’t know how many times Lance had made things hard for their family. How he’d cost them all this extra money to keep him fed and safe. Then there was therapy. Him changing schools. Him dealing with his mental health while trying to deal with puberty and nightmares. And God knew how hard it was. How hard it was for his parents, how exhausted they were. How his condition was kind of taboo, and no one was allowed to make a joke about it lest his Mami heard and you’d get smacked across your arse with her pink slipper. Keith picked up the box of cereal again, Lance could hear his moves. The way the contents of the box shook, and the way his clothes rustled. The tiny shift of his footing as he stood on tiptoe to find a space in the cupboard

“I think you were wrong not to stand up for yourself”

Of course “Crusader Keith” thought he needed to stand up for himself, he’d been trained by “Shiro the Hero”

“Tried that, doesn’t work”

He always sent cards, via Mami who knew their address

“Even if Shiro turned, I don’t think I could ever give up on him”

“That’s because you’re far more emotionally mature that my siblings were when they had to deal with a messed up little brother. I’m going to get a bottle of red. Fuck being sober, I’m going to wallow the patheticness out my system, then hopefully I won’t be such a grumpy dick”

“I don’t think you’re being too grumpy. You’re still a bit of a dick”

Lance snorted, placing down his cup of coffee

“That might just be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me”

“Don’t get used to it”

Lance’s lips turned upwards, the ghosting of a smile. Keith was a total dick, and had no place in Lance’s life, but he wasn’t as obnoxious as he’d been when they first met

“Have a look in the blue bag, down the bottom. I got you something while I was out”

Keith didn’t get Lance at all. He’d been moping, now he was kind of smiling, or grimacing, Keith wasn’t completely sure, but the fact Lance had bought him something seemed kind of like a trap

“You got me something?”

“Yep. Blue bag is all yours”

His? Wasn’t the food because he was human? What else did he need?

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why did you get me something?”

“Because when I saw it, I thought of you. Don’t make this weird”

It was already weird. All of this was weird as fuck. Peaking in the first blue bag there was a whole heal of vegetables, including broccoli which he hated, Lance snorted at him

“Not that one. The other one”

“You could have told me that”

“Coulda, woulda, shoulda”

Whatever that meant. Grabbing the second blue bag, Keith pulled it forward by the handles

“Milk?”

“Lactose free. Actually, all the milk I’ve been buying lately to feed your coffee addictions been lactose free, so you’re welcome over that. I said in the bottom. You know, under everything else”

“Shut up. It just looked like bottles of milk”

“On the top, maybe. I’ll give you that”

Keith sighed to himself mentally. How was he supposed to put up with Lance for another two weeks when he had nothing to do. He couldn’t work out, Coran had benched Lance from teaching him anything physical. Sitting around and doing nothing didn’t agree with him. Lifting out the two bottles of milk, he was annoyed that Lance had something nice. He wasn’t strictly like allergic to lactose, but some brands definitely upset his stomach more than others. At the bottom of the bag was a wrapped box, the paper slightly wet from the condensation off the milk bottles

“It’s a box?”

“Wow, I bet those powers of observation are what makes you a great hunter. Open the box, dummy”

Grumpily Keith took the box out of the bag, mumbling as he did

“You didn’t need to buy me anything”

“You’re really bad at accepting gifts aren’t you?”

“Shut up”

Inside the box was a red digital camera. Keith had always loved the colour red, he also indulged in a little photography thanks to Shiro. It wasn’t as fancy as his camera at home, but it wasn’t bottom of the range either

“You got me a camera?”

“Yep. If you’re going to be sticking around, I figured you might want one to keep up the pretence of having left it here”

This would have easily cost Lance a couple of hundred. Didn’t the vampire have better things to spend his money on?

“Why...?”

“Not this again. Fine, I’ll play along. Why, what?”

“Why did you spend money on me?”

“Because you’re stuck here and I thought that it might be nice to have something of your own. It’s also an apology for all the shit I put you through by turning into a bat. Just make sure you get a few photos of the house, I told the others you were taking photos to help me renovate. Accept the damn gift”

Lance seemed as bad at giving gifts as Keith was at receiving them. Not that the camera was a bad gift, the vampire seemed embarrassed that he was making a fuss over it all. Big gifts like this were shaved for birthdays or Christmas, no one went around simply buying things for other people, unless it was Shiro. Shiro had absolutely awful impulse control, Keith’s not that much better. His savings only went as far as saving for what he wanted, buying it, then looking at his abysmally empty bank balance sadly. There was no reason to really save when any mission could see him dead...

“Thanks. I’m not used to things like this”

“I can tell. Just... the camera isn’t me trying to buy your apology. Just so you know, I wanted to do something nice for you, with like, no strings attached... and now that this has gotten even more awkward, I’m off to get that red”

As Lance pushed his chair back, curiosity struck, Keith tilting the box in Lance’s direction

“Hey, Lance... Do you show up in these things?”

“Really? Photos, videos and mirrors... People wish they’d looked as good as I do dead. I mean, otherwise it’d be super suspicious when I didn’t show up in Pidge’s videos, when I let her film me”

“Oh... I hadn’t thought about that”

Lance snorted at him

“Some vampire hunter you are. Please don’t destroy my kitchen while I’m gone. Also, I grabbed some stuff so we can make pizza for dinner... I assume you don’t mind pizza and beer?”

Keith wrinkled his nose. That sounded like he was going to be cooking... and if the piece of shit toaster Lance used to have was anything to go by, then maybe that wouldn’t be the best idea. Lance was already walking towards the kitchen door

“I don’t know how to make pizza”

Raising his hand, the vampire waved his concerns off

“Then prepared to do the learn. Man, I’m going to have to teach you everything, aren’t I?”

“About vampires?”

“Nope. First you learn to do the human, then you’ll learn how to do the dead human. Don’t forget, I’ll hear you if you try breaking my kitchen... ow, fuck...”

Walking straight into the door frame, Lance rubbed at his forehead. Keith had no idea how Lance managed to walk into so many things and be so absolutely uncoordinated while in his own house. He wore glasses, shouldn’t that like help him see? Shouldn’t he have some kind of sense when he was getting too close to something? What kind of a vampire needed glasses? Lance didn’t make sense at all.

#once bitten #oncebittentwicestupid #once bitten twice stupid #klance #mpreg #voltron #vld au

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