#They just chose the worst place to set up their labs thanks to there being a new reaper-class ecto-being settling down there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luminnara · 3 years

Text

It’s Been A Long, Long Time | Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader ch 3

Summary: When HYDRA had their prized asset, the Winter Soldier, they did something no one ever thought was possible: they gave super soldier serum to an omega. With the sole purpose of tending to him during his ruts, she spends decades living in HYDRA facilities, denied her humanity and her life. Now, years later, Bucky Barnes has his mind and his own life back…and the last thing he ever expects is to see a familiar omega again. Bucky/OC, a little angsty but mostly smutty/fluffy/romantic!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Warnings: A/B/O, some light angst

Tags: @kyrah-williams @oceanmermaidwitch @shawnie--jo

Amoretta woke to the sound of a familiar alarm blaring through the compound. It was loud enough to make her wince and curl up, seeking out the warmth of her alpha while he laid next to her. She knew what the sound meant; he was officially finished with his rut, and they were going to be separated again.

The thought made her heart ache. She couldn’t take much more of this. All she wanted was to stay by his side, her instincts telling her that he was the perfect one to watch over and protect her even if she didn’t need a protector. Though all of her suppressants greatly toned down the way she yearned and cried for him, nothing could erase those feelings completely, and each time the guards came to take him away from her, it hurt a little bit more.

“‘Mega,” he said, voice extra low and rumbly from sleeping.

“Alpha,” she sighed, rubbing her nose against his neck.

He returned the gesture, tucking his face down into her scent gland and inhaling deeply. Even though she didn’t smell as strongly as omegas he encountered while out in the field, he loved her scent more than anything he had ever found before. Plus, her own scent being weaker meant that it was easier to cover her with his, and before the guards could come in and order him to leave, he made sure to rub his own gland all over her hair.

Amoretta sighed happily as he scented her, enjoying the smell of motor oil and cloves. If she was lucky, it wouldn’t fade before she got to see him again, and she would be able to at least catch a slight hint of him in her hair whenever she moved.

“My omega,” the soldier purred, nosing her cheek to try and get her to look at him.

She smiled softly, placing a hand on his jaw. “Your omega.”

The sound of a metal door sliding open made her close her eyes. She didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want to go back to her cell and spend another three months bored.

“Longing,” a Russian voice over the intercom suddenly said.

Amoretta let out a dejected breath. They were taking him away again.

Her alpha moved to get up, listening to the words he had heard countless times before. His body was moving of its own volition, his limbs untangling themselves from hers even though he wanted to stay right there with her forever.

“Rusted.”

He growled softly, a hand lingering on his omega’s neck.

“Furnace.”

“Don’t go,” she whimpered, staring up at him with big, sad eyes.

His hand moved to cup her cheek, a calloused thumb brushing over her skin. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to do as she asked.

“Daybreak.”

He knew he was supposed to listen to the trigger words. They always commanded him, keeping him in check so that he could never have too much free thought. This time, he knew they would be followed by orders to get up and go back to his quarters so that he could await further instruction.

But he didn’t want to.

“Seventeen.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he had had such a strong urge to disobey. It wasn’t overpowering, by any means, but it was enough for him to hesitate instead of walking away immediately.

“Benign.”

The omega on the cot looked distraught. He didn’t like it. He wanted her to be looking at him, paying attention to him, keeping her focus on him. She shouldn’t be staring at the wall, averting her gaze from the naked alpha before her.

“”Mega,” the soldier said, getting her attention again.

“Nine.”

“Hm?” she looked at him, and she felt like she was getting caught up in those icy blue eyes.

“Homecoming.”

For a moment, he just looked down at her. She was so lovely, so perfect.

“Be good.” he said.

She sat up slightly, staring at him. He had never said that before, not like that, not in that way. He called her good omega, good girl, pretty omega...he told her to be obedient, he praised her whenever she listened to him...but he had never told her be good, not with that tone. It was almost like...a warning, or...a promise?

“One.”

His nostrils flared, chest heaving with a sigh as he turned away from her.

“Wait!” she called, reaching for him.

But he was already facing the door.

“Freight car.”

The soldier bowed his head. “Ready to comply.”

Amoretta let out a pitiful wail, watching helplessly as her alpha was ordered to return to his cell. The worst part was how he did so, and he seemed so willing to leave her behind. She knew he was under HYDRA’s full control, she knew that they liked to go in and mess with his brain whenever he showed any independence, but it still felt like she was being broken up with every single time she had to watch him leave.

“Omega,” the voice said as the door slid shut. “Return to your cell and prepare for cryo.”

Another door opened and she stood slowly, wiping away tears that she knew she shouldn’t have had. She felt stupid for caring so much. Her hopes for a better, normal life were always crushed whenever HYDRA separated them again, and watching him walk away like that without a glance back at her was taking its toll on her emotional health.

Without much other choice, she trudged down the narrow corridor, dragging her feet despite the threat of the cattle prods behind her. While the soldier was obedient enough to be allowed to walk on his own, they never trusted Amoretta, still all too aware of how much she liked to lash out at her handlers.

They shoved her into her holding cell, where she spent about an hour waiting around before they returned to drag her off to the lab. Sometimes, when the soldier wasn’t going to be needed for a while, HYDRA put him in cryo. Amoretta once heard a doctor saying that it was to preserve his longevity, but she was pretty sure it was just that they didn’t want to deal with him all the time. When that happened, they put her into cryogenesis, too, letting her sleep until her alpha was thawed out.

She supposed she should be grateful for the long naps, sometimes spending months or even years at a time not having to think about the way that HYDRA kept her as a prisoner, but she hated it. She didn’t like being away from her alpha, and whenever they brought her back out of cryo, she had a tendency to get sick.

It wasn’t pleasant.

This time, as the doctors strapped her down, she snarled at them. She was tired of this, tired of her life with HYDRA. She was reaching her breaking point, finally.

“Quiet,” a beta doctor snapped, picking up a syringe.

Amoretta rolled her eyes. “Or what?”

He glared at her. “You don’t want to find out.”

“You won’t get rid of me. You need me.” she growled.

“We don’t need you.” the man scoffed. “We can easily find another omega that can take the serum. You aren’t special, Subject 1096.”

“Oh yeah? Then why don’t you?” she dared to ask. “Why give me a number and keep me around for so long if I’m not important?”

“You omegas are always so sappy.” he said, a disgusted tone to his voice. “You’re convinced the Winter Soldier is your mate, aren’t you?”

“He seems to think so.” she said defensively.

“Does he?” the doctor pressed the needle to her arm. “Or is he just happy to have something around to fuck?”

Amoretta wanted to bite his hand off for being so rude. She wanted to scream and snap and thrash, proving that they had made a mistake when they decided to give her of all omegas the serum. She was stronger than they knew. She could tear this doctor apart if she got ahold of his hand as he stood just out of her reach. Amoretta wanted HYDRA to regret the day they chose to make her so powerful.

But the tranquilizer was already being injected into her veins, and she could feel herself floating away. Her vision swam, her skin suddenly feeling cold as she was lowered into her cryo pod for a nice, long, icy nap.

She wished her soldier was there with her, but he wasn’t. Instead, she was all alone, left to sleep and hope for sweet dreams filled with his cold blue eyes and the low rumble of his voice.

“Widow, you copy?”

“Loud and clear, Cap.” a feminine voice said through the earpiece.

Steve Rogers nodded to himself as he crept through the dark hallways. Checking out abandoned HYDRA bases wasn’t his favorite pastime, but it was an important one, and he’d be damned if he let Nat and Clint go without him for a mission like this. Besides, he owed it to Bucky to make sure everything was taken care of; he knew how much it frustrated his friend that he wasn’t allowed near HYDRA facilities yet.

But they just couldn’t risk anything happening, not when he had finally managed to free himself of HYDRA’s influence on his mind.

Thanks, Wakanda.

“What’s your position, Cap?” Natasha asked.

“Northeast hall,” Steve answered as he rounded a corner. “Looks like medical facilities. There’s no sign of--”

As soon as he had opened his mouth, a row of low emergency lights flickered to life on the floor, illuminating his path and bathing the hallway in a red glow.

“There’s still power. Stay alert.” he warned.

“Copy that.”

Shield in hand, Steve made his way to a set of doors, nudging them open as quietly as he could.

He really wasn’t expecting what he saw.

He had definitely stepped into some sort of medical bay, gurneys and instruments left abandoned whenever HYDRA had up and left this place. If it weren’t for the staleness of the air and complete absence of life, it would have looked like the doctors had been there only moments before.

As Steve made his way around crude operating tables, sheet plastic crinkling under his boots, he spotted a soft blue glow coming from a small doorway in the corner of the room. He adjusted his grip, keeping his shield raised just in case, but as he neared the lightsource, he lowered it again.

“Nat, you’re gonna wanna come see this.”

It only took a few minutes for Black Widow to reach her teammate, and when she did, she let out a low whistle.

“That’s a cryo pod.” she said, leaning towards the metal device. “And it sure looks like it’s being used.”

“Is whoever’s in it alive?” Steve asked.

“Only one way to find out. Care to do the honors?” Natasha nodded towards the metal handle on the front of the pod.

“Is this safe?” Steve put down his shield.

“This place has been abandoned since the late 80s. Seems like the end of the Cold War scared HYDRA away from a lot of their bases.” Natasha said, peering through the small, frosted glass window into the pod. “But there’s definitely someone in there.”

“Well, we can’t exactly lug this whole thing out to the plane,” Steve sighed, grabbing the heavy metal handle.

As he wrenched it to the side, he could hear a pneumatic hiss, air rushing out of the lock. With a heavy clang, the pod opened, and Steve was able to pull the door to the side.

Doing so revealed a young woman, her scent too muted by the chill of cryo sleep to tell what her secondary gender was. She was nude, the sight of her causing Steve to avert his gaze in embarrassment. Natasha either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and as she pulled a glove off and pressed her hand to a cold forehead, there seemed to be movement behind the woman’s eyelids.

“Wow. She’s frozen.” Widow commented, moving her hand down to press two fingers against her neck. “...I’ve got a pulse here, though. We’d better get her out to the transport.”

Steve nodded, taking Natasha’s place as she stepped back to call in their find. Still doing his best to be a gentleman and avoid looking at the girl, he quickly unbuckled the brittle leather straps holding the girl in place, freeing her arms and legs before pulling her out of the pod. Her skin was icy against him, but Nat was right--he could feel her heart beating slowly, her pulse speeding up towards something more normal and less like hibernation.

“Here. Found this in a cupboard.” Natasha appeared with a musty blanket in her arms, draping it around the woman’s shoulders.

Steve wrapped it around her before picking her up, finally daring to look down at her now that she was covered. Her hair was long and dark, and though her cheeks were a bit gaunt, no doubt thanks to HYDRA’s general disregard for human life, she didn’t seem too worse for wear. He couldn’t see any bruises on her face or neck, and her scent glands looked to be free of any mating bonds.

Well, at least she wasn’t missing anybody special, right? Being separated from a bonded mate for so long could kill a person, especially if they happened to be an alpha or an omega. Steve still couldn’t smell for sure, but this girl had such a small stature that he had a suspicion she might be the latter.

He caught a glimpse of a thin metal identification band around her wrist, almost like the kind used to track wild animals. On it, Steve could see SUBJECT 1096 stamped in, and he couldn’t help but grimace. What did that mean? That she was an experiment?

As he followed Natasha out into the abandoned hallway, the girl in his arms stirred slightly. She rubbed her cheek against Steve’s chest, nuzzling into him as if searching for a scent. When she didn’t seem to find what she expected, he caught her furrowing her brow, her lips turning down in a slight frown.

“Alpha?” she asked quietly, voice barely audible.

“You’re safe now,” Steve said, trying to reassure her. She was right, he was an alpha, and he did his best to cover her in a calming scent. The last thing he wanted was a panicked omega on his hands.

“Not...alpha…” she said weakly, eyes still closed. She raised a hand, grabbing at Steve’s chest with tired fingers. “T-take me home…”

“We’re going somewhere safe,” he said, quickening his pace. “I promise. You’re okay now.”

She let out a tiny whine, squirming half heartedly in his grip. “Want...my alpha…”

As Steve and Natasha walked out of the hidden HYDRA bunker and waited for Clint to bring the plane down, the scent of fresh air finally roused the omega enough that she opened her eyes. Steve looked down at her, worry written all over his face, and as her gaze met his, she looked disappointed.

Those weren’t the blue eyes she was hoping for. She didn’t know this alpha, and she wanted nothing to do with him. She wanted her soldier back, not this stranger. But she was too tired to fight, still drowsy from her time in cryo, and as he carried her onto the transport, she passed out again, hoping that her alpha would come and find her and take her away from the people she was stuck with now.

“What--what’s this?” Clint asked, turning in the pilot’s seat as Nat and Steve boarded the plane.

“She was in cryo,” Natasha said, grabbing an emergency cot and laying it out in the back. “Pulse is there, but we’ve got no idea how healthy she is otherwise.”

“We need to get her back to the tower.” Steve said, setting her down.

“You got it, Cap.” Clint turned back around. “Weather’s good. Should be just a couple hours til we’re there.”

“I’ll let Bruce know.” Natasha took the copilot’s seat, immediately grabbing a headset to radio back.

As the craft took off, Amoretta was stuck in an unwelcome sleep. The last thing she wanted was to be unconscious right now, when she knew she was surrounded by unfamiliar alphas. She was grateful for the fresh air, but with it came the scents of people, of strangers, and she didn’t like that one bit. As out of it as she was, she knew that she had been taken out of cryo, and everything else just felt wrong.

The alpha she had woken up with wasn’t hers. She had been so happy at first, thinking that her soldier had been the one to carry her out of the base...until she caught his scent and realized that it was wrong. The second she knew she was in someone else’s arms, all she wanted to do was thrash and kick and bite, but she simply didn’t have the strength yet.

So she had to settle for sleeping, and, thankfully, dreaming.

Cryo never seemed to give her dreams, at least not any that she could ever remember. It felt like it had been forever since she had a normal nap, though, and her mind was happy to wander. Thoughts of her soldier swirled around each other, and for the first time in a long time, she was sleeping peacefully.

With nothing else to do, Steve took a seat next to the omega, strapping himself in. And leaning back with a sigh. Who was she, and why was her scent so muted? He had never encountered an omega who was so...well, scentless before. Even when they took suppressants to keep their heats at bay, they still reeked of omega. He never thought anything could change that, but apparently, something could.

As they flew home, he found himself staring down at her, wondering why HYDRA had her in cryo for so long. She had to be important for them to keep her around, right? They weren’t known for wasting their time with people they couldn’t use. But, then again...what use could they possibly have for an omega who didn’t even smell like one? It didn’t make sense.

“Maybe she was a test subject.” Natasha said, practically reading his mind.

“Think so?” Steve asked, tearing his eyes away from the omega to look at the spy.

“We found her in a lab.” She shrugged. “Before the Berlin Wall came down, they had their hands in everything. The Soviets funded countless experiments on omegas.”

Steve frowned. “Guess I missed a lot while I was in that ice.”

“Eh, not much.” Clint said. “Just the same old shit.”

Steve gave him a look.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Same old stuff. Better, goody two shoes?”

“Better.”

Barton snorted a laugh. “Come on, work is the one place I can swear without a kid overhearing! You’ve gotta give me a pass once in a while.”

“Never said you couldn’t swear,” Steve sighed, leaning his head back again. He wanted to know what HYDRA was doing with this omega. Were they experimenting on her? She looked like she was fairly healthy, so whatever they had done must not have taken much of a physical toll on her.

There was also the matter of why they had left her behind when they abandoned their base. There hadn’t been any signs of struggle, at least not that he had seen. It looked like HYDRA had simply chosen to get up and leave one day a few decades ago, with no obvious reasoning as to why.

Steve had to admit he didn’t really understand why they did what they did. His job wasn’t to analyze their motives, though; his job was to stop them, and that’s what he was going to do. Rescuing this omega was just one small part of that. Of course, it would help if he knew why he had stumbled across her, and what they had been using her for.

As soon as they landed, Bruce’s assistants were waiting with a gurney, Dr. Banner himself standing nearby. Steve rushed the still-sleeping omega out, placing her down as gently as he could and then watching as she was taken inside to their medical facilities.

“So...you found her in cryo?” Bruce asked, following after his new patient.

Steve nodded stiffly. “There was no one else there. The whole place was running on backup batteries.”

Banner made a thoughtful noise as they walked inside. “She’s been asleep this whole time?”

“She woke up briefly while I was carrying her out to the transport. Other than that, she’s been out cold.”

“We’ll have to run some tests to see what’s going on with her.”

“Is she gonna be alright, Doc?” Steve asked.

Bruce stopped outside the lab doors. “Without knowing how long she was on ice and what exactly they were doing with her...it’s hard to say.”

Steve frowned.

“But...the fact that she hasn’t gone into shock yet is a good sign.” He turned to enter the room. “I’ll have FRIDAY grab you when I’ve got more answers.”

Steve just nodded, standing back and watching the doctor disappear after the mystery omega. Banner was a good guy, and as an omega himself, he would do everything he could to ensure that this one was well taken care of. Steve had no doubt in his mind that Bruce would see that she pulled through.

Something wasn’t sitting right about all this, though. The situation was bothering him beyond belief. Seriously, what was going on? What was he missing? What was so special about subject 1096?

Maybe Bucky would have an idea.

#alpha bucky #alpha bucky barnes #alpha!bucky x omega!reader #alpha!bucky #abo #omegaverse #it's been a long long time #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x oc #avengers x reader #avengers x oc

950 notes · View notes

amitlee · 3 years

Note

can I please request 11 for ler!tommy and lee!techno, please?

Growing Pains

Summary: Techno had yet to realize just how big Tommy had grown.

Warnings: Tickle fic!

This is a meet up between the SBI similar to the one that Wilbur, Tommy, and some others did a few months ago. So kinda like a real life AU.

The way I threw my own Techno head cannons out of the window🤭

“I used to be ticklish when I was little, but I think I’ve outgrown– shihit!!”

Please do not tag as ship post!

———————————————————————

“-Yeah ok but hear me out. Your exile arc was pretty funny.”

Tommy let out a choked laugh at that. “Funny! I think you mispronounced heartbreaking my friend.”

The pair had been talking in the kitchen of a rented Airbnb while Wilbur and Phil were at the grocery store. They had decided to make a cake as a happy late birthday present for Philza, the twist was that they had to bake it as fast as possible so it would be done by the time the older man got back.

Techno put the cake batter in the oven and set the timer, his shoulders relaxed as they got to slow down. “I’ve never mispronounced anything in my life.” He joked and got out the supplies needed for icing and decorating. The pair fell into silence.

“Well- this is awkward.” Tommy let out his signature laugh and thought of new conversation starters. “Sooo, is this your first time meeting online friends?”

When you think of Technoblade, you don’t think of a social butterfly with strong conversational skills. He was thankful that Tommy had found a way to break the silence so he didn’t dig himself a hole. “Somewhat. I went to a convention one time to meet up with some people but that was years ago. I guess you could say it’s the first time I’ve ever done something like this.”

Tommy nodded along to show he was listening. “Hmm, cool! Well I’m sure you know it’s not my first round. What can I say, I’m a fan favorite.” Tommy laughed as Techno stopped arranging ingredients to give him a funny look.

“Did you just refer to Phil and Wilbur as your fans?” Techno couldn’t rid himself of a smile at the boy’s words, he knew he was just joking around. “I seem to remember you being into their content a little before you became Big Man Mr.Innit.” He turned away from the counter of ingredients, intending to tower over the boy and mess with him a little out of sheer boredom. It was a big surprise when he got closer to his friend and realize he had to tilt his head up to look him in the eyes.

Tommy lifted one eyebrow with a smile, he knew he had the height advantage but it meant nothing compared to how strangely strong Techno was. “I guess I just know how to pick people and befriend them with my awesomeness and the Innit charm.” He said with a smile and ruffled the smaller man’s hair. “Look at you! Little Technobaby!” His voice got higher as he teased the man in front of him.

Techno turned his head away “Shut it. You’re a literal child.” The older boy poked his friend in the stomach to emphasize his words and turned back around to go back to baking, not before seeing the way Tommy jumped back, “See, ticklish just like a kid.”

Tommy did in fact noticeably flinch away from the surprise poke. “Fuck off, I bet you’re no different.” He paused and thought for a moment. “Are you ticklish? I need to know for...science class? Yeah science class, we’re doing a project on statistics.” He silently walked behind the busy man and awaited his response.

‘Hmmm. I used to be ticklish when I was little, but I think I’ve outgrown-shihit!” Technoblade paid no mind to the question, it seemed rather normal to him. He answered honestly in his monotone voice before breaking off in a trail of uncharacteristic giggles when he felt rough squeezes to both of his sides. He dropped the clean whisk he had in his hand and pushed back into the blonde.

Tommy gasped at the reaction and moved his hands to squeeze continuously at his friends tummy. “No way! Awwww Tech~ this is great!” He stumbled for a moment as Techno threw his weight onto him but quickly caught his footing and friend.

Techno yelped at the change of spots. “FUHUHUhuck TohOHOmmy! Be gehentle, OHOHoh my gohohod!” He remembered being especially weakened by firm touches in his childhood, flashes of being wrecked by friends and family swam in his mind. He realized that he had basically thrown himself on Tommy and, in turn, was now trapped. Not that he minded, but the fact Tommy was absolutely wrecking him by pure luck was extremely flustering. He attempted to slide down to the floor and escape Tommy’s grasp.

Tommy chuckled at the man’s hysterics and had no choice but to let him sink to the floor, letting his down gently. He sat down next to his hips. “You know, I think I may need some more stuff for my project. I could always get Phil or Wilbur to help if you’d rather wait though, completely up to you.” He teased, wanting to explore this further.

“I’m sure Phil is already too busy wrecking you to be bothered to try with me, I’ll go along with your ‘research’ though, no need to tell him.” Techno’s natural confidence shined through for a moment until he remembered his situation, becoming a little more recessive. (like the trait I guess lmao idek where I was trying to go with that)

“I’m too large and grown and, large and grown, for him to dare. Wilbur however.. anyways-” He set his hands on Techno’s sides but didn’t move them. “-put your hands up please.”

Now, Technoblade is known for many things, being a nervous lee is not necessarily one of them. He chose to not keep up the conversation purely because he didn’t know what to say, so he opted to try and raise his arms to rest by the side of his head. However, every time they would raise he brought them back down, unable to handle the anticipation. “Ihihi- I don’t think I can.”

Tommy’s smirk turned to a fond smile, this really was just too cute. “No worries big man! Let me help.” He grabbed both of his hands and brought them all the way above his head, “Can you keep them there?” He laughed when Techno avoided his gaze and gave a single nod. “Good, you better.”

It began slowly, diabolically. Tommy let go of the man’s hands, dragging one single finger down each arm until he got to his hollows, swirling his finger in them before moving to his ribs and squeezing. The pressure was as gentle as one could be while still being rough, after all, Tommy wanted to see only the best reactions. It was noted that as the pressure and speed increased, so did Techno’s squirming and volume. Said man had dissolved into light anticipatory laughter soon after his hands had been hoisted up.

“Whahahat am I, ahaha lab rahahahAT- WAHAHAIT!” Tommy had chosen that exact moment to go from squeezing to drilling into the bones and the spaces in between them, Techno seemed to be having none of it.

Tommy’s head lifted up, he decided to carry on the conversation as normal. “Haha, yeah a little lab piggy.” He took one hand away from the sensitive man and pinched his cheeks, similar to how an old woman would.

Technoblade whined, bringing his arms down to cover his face. This proved to be a fate-sealing mistake.

Tommy shot both hands down to knead the man’s hips, sometimes rubbing into the bone. He made sure not to cause any pain, just absolutely destroying the man below him.

“TOHOHOHOMMY! Fuhuhuck, ihihit’s soho bahahahad!” Techno uncovered his face, opting to look at his friend and the offending hands.

Techno took the attack for about 30 seconds before realizing Tommy had yet to speak again. Combining that with the tickles on his hips that seemed to only get more intense as time went on, regardless on the attack staying the same, he got a little nervous.

“Tahaha-Tohohohommy?”

“One rule. And you just haaaaad to break it, didn’t you.” Tommy was obviously just teasing, that didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking though.

Techno laughed harder, the teasing was really getting to him.

“And there you go again! I’m having a conversation with you and you’re just giggling away! Unbelievable.” Tommy moved his hands off of his friend to give him a breather before continuing. “I think you need to learn you lesson, little man.”

Before Techno could ask what he meant, Tommy set one hand on his stomach.

The giggles started up again, however, there was no movement to Tommy’s hand. Techno placed his own hand onto of the one Tommy was resting on him, “Tohommy, be gentle, this is my worst spohohot...” He trailed into relaxed laughs as Tommy lightly tickled his stomach, Techno’s hand was still onto of his friend’s so it wasn’t nearly as intense as it could’ve been. He was thankful for this, even though he generally liked rougher tickles on his belly as well, Tommy had already been going to town for a solid 10 minutes.

Tommy’s face morphed into a fond smile when Techno all but melted into him. Maybe he didn’t need a big finale for it to end good. The boy reached his free hand up to scratch at Techno’s neck and flutter his ears when he felt like it.

Techno’s laugh got squeakier but he remained very much relaxed, only twitching every so often or if instinct.

Eventually, Tommy stopped moving the hand on his belly completely, now just fluttering and scribbling gently at his pal’s neck, ears, and collar bones.

Techno began to regain some strength back, confidence coming with it. “Ihihi am sooo geheting you back for that shihihit” He spoke through his giggling.

Tommy let out a mock gasp and moved his hand back down to squeeze and skitter around Techno’s stomach. Throwing him into surprised hysterics.

“TOHOHOMMY! STOHOHOP STOHOP, IM SOHOHORRY! I WOHOHON’T!” Techno pushed at both hands now, batting at Tommy playfully.

Tommy stopped tickling all together as soon as he was told to stop. “Mhm. Yep, you’re sorry and you’re going to let me help decorate the cake.” He said with a smile and rubbed away the leftover tingles that were bound to be everywhere by now.

Techno curled up beside Tommy, small giggles still leaving him. “Ihin your dreams.”

“Ah, well it was worth a shot.” Tommy laughed as well, seeing his normally stoic friend become mush was very entertaining. “You know, not to alarm you, but speaking of the cake...uhh how long was it supposed to be in for?”

Techno stopped laughing at the thought. “Tommy! What if it burnt? I’m blaming you if it did.” He stood up and quickly went to check on the baked goods. The cake was completely fine. He let out a sigh of relief and went to go finish making the frosting.

“It’s crusty now, like crunchy almost! How did that even happen?” Techno spoke up incredulously as he looked at the half made frosting that had some of the ingredients evaporate in the time he had been wrecked.

Tommy got up and walked over to take a look, laughing as he saw that it was in fact fucked up. He made a show of looking towards the window, “Hey, is that the car in the driveway?” He asked, barely hiding his smile.

Techno froze and looked up in disbelief. He made eye contact with Tommy, who could not keep it together for the life of him.

“HA- I’m just messin’, it’s clear.” He laughed, “You should’ve seen your face!”

Techno huffed with a smile, turning away. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Come over here and help me with this.”

Tommy’s eyes lit up, “Wait, really?” He asked as he walked over to stand behind Techno to the side, more so offering his presence.

“Well, I know I’m a master baker but I guess I could teach you a thing or two.”

———————————————————————

I truly don’t understand how some of you guys write things that are so long, it’s like a magic power or something I swear.

But anyways... here’s a new fic! Thank you so much for reading and supporting me! It’s means tons, love you guys💕💞

#mcyt tickle #tickle fic #ticklecommunity #lee!technoblade #lee!techno #ler!tommy #Ler!tommyinnit #mcyt tickle fic #mcyt #tommyinnit #technoblade

155 notes · View notes

tealin · 3 years

Text

Observation Hill

To see the post in its original format, please visit twirlynoodle.com/blog

There is no mistaking Observation Hill when you arrive at McMurdo, if you know anything about it. It is a distinct cone, right at the end of the peninsula – even if you've never seen a picture of it, its name alone tells you it's a prime lookout, and sticking out into McMurdo sound as it does, it has clear views in every direction.

I had seen pictures of it, but I was still surprised how it loomed over the station. Unlike the vastly larger Mt Erebus, it is visible from everywhere; whether you're eating in the Galley or crawling back to bed from the Crary lab in the wee hours, it's always looking over your shoulder.

Though not apparent in the above photo, it is clearly visible in person that there is a large cross mounted nearly at the peak of the hill. Visitors especially from the States might assume it is just another expression of religious devotion – Christ died on a cross on a hill, so hilltop crosses are not unusual in a country which puts great stock in expressions of Christianity – but this is not another one of those things, in fact it isn't even American. This cross was erected in January 1913 by the surviving men of the Terra Nova Expedition, as a memorial to Captain Scott and the other members of his party who died out on the Ross Ice Shelf on their way home from the South Pole.

Before the ship arrived it was decided among us to urge the erection of a cross on Observation Hill to the memory of the Polar Party. On the arrival of the ship the carpenter immediately set to work to make a great cross of jarrah wood [an Australian hardwood]. There was some discussion as to the inscription, it being urged that there should be some quotation from the Bible because "the women think a lot of these things." But I was glad to see the concluding line of Tennyson's "Ulysses" adopted: "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

... Observation Hill was clearly the place for it, it knew them all so well. Three of them were Discovery men who lived three years under its shadow: they had seen it time after time as they came back from hard journeys on the Barrier: Observation Hill and Castle Rock were the two which had always welcomed them in. It commanded McMurdo Sound on one side, where they had lived: and the Barrier on the other, where they had died. No more fitting pedestal, a pedestal which in itself is nearly 1000 feet high, could have been found.

(Apsley Cherry-Garrard, The Worst Journey in the World, pp.565-7)

The establishment of the cross took two days: the first, to hack a hole in the volcanic rock in which to mount it, and the second to carry up the pieces and erect them.

It stands nine feet out of the rocks, and many feet into the ground, and I do not believe it will ever move. When it was up, facing out over the Barrier, we gave three cheers and one more. (ibid., p.567)

106 years later, there is a hiking trail up Observation Hill. I had intended to make a pilgrimage since the moment I arrived, but with everything else going on, and the ongoing challenge to get enough sleep, it wasn't until quite late in my visit that I finally made it.

My first attempt was on a relatively fine day, when I thought I could get some good views. The trailhead was clearly marked on the station map, but when I got there I couldn't find a way to reach it without crossing a fuel pipeline, and I had a dim recollection from orientation that this was a big no-no. I wandered about looking for access until I started getting a headache from the fumes, and gave up.

The next opportunity came a few days later, after I'd found out from a veteran that it was OK just to step over the pipeline there. It was a thickly cloudy day, and hazy by Antarctic standards, so I wouldn't get as good a view, but that did mean I could look forward to having the hill to myself. So I stepped over the pipeline and started up.

It looks like a terribly steep climb from the bottom, but once on the slope it's not so bad, and is far less slippery than the gravel slope of Arrival Heights. Partway up I passed a mountain rescue class, but beyond that the trail was entirely mine.

Like the rest of Ross Island, Observation Hill is volcanic in origin – in fact it was once a small volcano of its own. Unlike the subglacial volcano that is now Castle Rock, which grew cylindrically through a hole it melted in the ice, Observation Hill must have been uncovered in its later years at least, because it has the classic cone shape made by molten rock running down the outside. It is a lighter colour than much of the rest of the exposed rock in the area, and in places, it gives a really good impression of being sedimentary rather than igneous.

While the climb was not as physically intense as I had feared, it did still make me very warm, and I had two pauses, not to catch my breath but to cool down. One was to watch the rescue class, the other was when, somewhere near the top, I lost the trail, and examined the terrain for a while to guess which side would be least fall-off-able. I chose the wrong one, it turns out – I didn't fall off, but I did have to pick my way over some bare rock and came out above the cross, which is mounted in a pocket of rubble just off the peak.

It's hard to tell from the photo but it is in fact quite large – I am an average sized female and I stood well under the crossbar. The inscription is still there, but over a century of blizzards have battered it, and some parts are just barely decipherable.

The names – above of the worst of the blowing grit – are still legible. This gave me one of those moments which always seems to come by surprise. I have lived most of my life, and certainly all of my career, in close proximity with fictional characters, who demand to be believed in, either out of escapist necessity or professional duty. Most of the time I am off in my own little world, and the fact that that little world is now a historical moment in Antarctica does not, necessarily, make it more real, in relation to my literal present reality, than any movie I've worked on. I know these guys were real, I have seen film footage of them, and read their handwriting, and, some of them, even met members of their families! But when I'm up to my elbows in the work, it's easy to give it the part of my brain that suspends disbelief on a production. Suddenly something will come along that jolts me back to their reality: in this case, a name carved on a physical object by someone who knew them personally.

At the same time, this physical object impressed upon me again just how much time separates their reality and mine. Originally the cross was painted white, with the incised letters filled in black. Only a little of the white paint remains in the deepest recesses of what are quite shallow letters, now. In 1960, when Silas Wright returned and was photographed up here, the wood had already been scoured clean. His visit was 47 years after the cross was put in place, and 49 years before mine. The same imagination that conflates historical realities with fictional ones can make those years evaporate, but that is still a lot of years, and erosion, unlike imagination, doesn't lie.

Cherry may have believed that the cross would never move, but it has in fact blown down twice, once in the winter of 1974 and again in 1993. Its restoration in 1994 was a significant effort: a new concrete "boot" was made for it at Scott Base and delivered to the site by helicopter, and the cross itself was relayed up the hill by teams of helpers. (You can see photos of the event here, p.44) I cannot say how moving it is to see such an outlay of resources and enthusiasm by people who never met the Polar Party, to perpetuate their memory.

The cross isn't the only thing to see at the top of Observation Hill, of course – there is everything else. It turned out to be the perfect way to end my tour of Terra Nova landmarks, not only because it was the last bit of home territory the Terra Nova men themselves visited, but because I could see nearly everywhere I'd been from up here.

As you can see, it was not the greatest day for landscape photography, what with the matte light and the taller mountains being covered with cloud. But I had not come up here to take pictures. The sombre atmosphere befitted what I had come to do, which was to remember these men and thank The Powers That Be for the blessings that had been showered upon me in the last few weeks.

The cross faces south, towards their last camp, and the Pole. This is, of course, a thoughtful and fitting aspect of the memorial. It also gives the impression of a beacon, a light in a window, a lighthouse on a headland, guiding them home. The men who erected it knew the men were dead. They are still dead. We all know this. But they are still out there somewhere, and it is not impossible to imagine some small irrational part of the human psyche wanting, in some small way, to show them the way back, and call them back by name.

Minna Bluff was covered in cloud, so I couldn't use it as a bellwether, but the wind started to pick up and was colder than before, so I thought I should start heading down again. The correct trail was obvious from this end, and I poked along it for a little way before everything caught up with me and I sat down to have a little cry.

The cross is a historical artefact, and while it is not as plum or as complex as the huts, it still requires conservation. Alarmed by the degree of erosion on the lettering, the Antarctic Heritage Trust has devised a shell to protect it from the worst of the winter winds. That will do something, but it has already lost a lot. When I was up there, I wondered why it hadn't ever been repainted, as the paint would go a long way to protecting it, and when the paint wore off it could just get repainted instead of eating further and further into the wood. The raw timber is more harmonious with the environment, and I like it better aesthetically that way, as do many others I'm sure – the white cross with black letters in Debenham's photo from 1913 is very stark and artificial in such a magnificent landscape. But it would last a lot longer.

On the other hand, generations of Antarcticans now have the cross as a touchstone, not only as their link to the history (not everyone gets to visit Cape Evans) but as a landmark in their own experience of Antarctica. It was personally important to the men who painted it white and put it up, but it is also personally important to hundreds, if not thousands, of people since then, who have never seen it white and don't know that's how it started, and might see the repainting as a travesty. If it were to be conserved, to what extent would that go? Would the letters be re-carved deeper, obliterating what remains of Davies' original work? At what point does conservation end and adulteration begin?

The alternative is to take down the original and keep it somewhere out of the weather – Scott Base perhaps – and replace it with a replica. Jarrah is still available, the letters could be carved afresh, it could be the bare wood everyone has known and loved for the last fifty years at least, and the original could be saved from the effects of weather once and for all. But doesn't this defeat the intent of the original in some way, and make it – dare I say – a Disneyland version? Do we owe more to history to keep it as it is and let the elements wear it down, or to preserve it as long as possible and do whatever might be necessary to extend the experience and historical understanding of a place, if not its authenticity?

These are all questions that curators and conservators have been grappling with for years, so I leave it to them to make the decisions. I am grateful to have seen the original, and to have a moment to myself up there to reflect on these things, and more. I hope, whatever happens with it in the future, Observation Hill is not de-crossed entirely. How else will they find the way home?

#antarctica #mcmurdo station #observation hill #conservation #history #memorial #artefacts #scott expedition #terra nova expedition #scott base

63 notes · View notes

punksarahreese · 3 years

Text

Coming Out | Sarah Reese

Prompt #1 from Nova’s pride 2021 list

Word count: 2224

***

Sarah always felt like maybe she just wasn’t right. There must be something wrong because she never seemed to fit in. With her absent mother and her father who left as soon as he had the chance, she somehow felt alienated in her own home. Back in public school she never had many friends and always spent her free time with her nose in a book. Popular girls turned their nose up at her comfy clothes and unruly curls, claiming she didn’t put enough effort into her look. As she grew up, her social skills never really felt like they improved, instead Sarah would just mirror the actions of those around her in hopes that they would accept it. Yet she still went through high school being called a freak and being called out for “copying” everyone. It never made sense to Sarah, how people could make friends and converse so easily. She felt like she would sound so cliche whenever she thought about it, stating that she never fit in with the other girls, but it was true.

Sarah knew about her bisexuality from a young age, that was no secret to her. She read the term in a mental health book of all places, while she was hidden in a nook of the middle school library. It was common sense to her, of course she liked more than one gender; who didn’t? She would come to learn that sexuality was a bit more complex than that, though it would take a bit more research. It felt so black and white in Sarah’s mind but a lot of people didn’t agree with it, so she let her sexuality remain a secret for a while.

Still, she had her fair share of crushes on girls and boys in almost every stage of her life. One casual girlfriend in her undergraduate program was still the only real experience Sarah had though; until Joey at least. Neither relationship went very far, either due to Sarah’s confusion with all things social or the lack of spark there. She was so busy with school and work, and her partners in both situations just didn’t feel a connection after some time. Joey was an odd one in particular and Sarah wasn’t sure if it had been more of a him thing or her inexperience that ended it. It was weird and the end didn’t hurt as much as it maybe should have.

Her autism diagnosis was not a shock to her, though it had been to her mom. The week of her 16th birthday, Sarah had made a doctor's appointment and asked to be screened. It was the first time she could make medical decisions on her own and she wanted to know already, even though deep down she had a logical hunch. Years of research and even self-screening through countless medical journals had told Sarah she was probably autistic, so she wasn’t too surprised when she got an official diagnosis less than two years later. It was sensical to her really, the way she thought and felt and acted was so different to everyone else, and an actual label made her feel so seen. This was part of why she didn’t fit in, it wasn’t her fault it was the inaccessibility of normal life that made things so much harder. Her mother didn’t agree, she hated the idea of having a neurodivergent daughter; though she would never say it. Instead any mention of autism was ignored and Sarah’s needs were not accommodated until the day she moved out. It was how life at home had always been, as unfortunate as it happened to be.

There was something else Sarah should have seen coming, with her knowledge that she wasn’t the same as everyone else. Autism often came with a disconnect between the definition of gender and one’s identity and Sarah was no exception, since social constructs almost always went over Sarah’s head. She never felt right calling herself a girl and her brain always had a half second protest whenever she ticked the “female” box on any form. Still, she tried not to think about it too much. She didn’t feel like a boy either, she knew that for certain, so that was that.

It was, in fact, not that. As she got older and the internet queer community expanded, Sarah was exposed to more research and experiences of others in her shoes. Genders outside the binary existed, it was made clear to her, and pronouns were not restricted to those assigned at birth. It was a whole new realm of possibility and it scared Sarah more than she was happy to admit. She wasn’t a girl and she knew it, yet she also wasn’t not a girl. It was so confusing, which is why the thought was almost always pushed to the back of the mind, hidden away to worry about another day.

Curiosity got the better of her one day, though, after reading a forum about neopronouns. Someone was talking about their experience using she/they pronouns, stating that it helped them relate to her identity way more than birth assigned pronouns ever had alone. The poster had noted that they always felt detached from femininity and it was almost as if they were culturally female yet mentally out of the binary. It was that comparison that clicked with Sarah and she couldn’t stop herself from testing the theory.

“Sarah uses she/they pronouns,” she stated tentatively, “Their name is Sarah and she uses she/they pronouns…”

The instant gratification shocked her a bit, unsure of why it felt so right to say such a sentence. A few minutes passed as she sat in silence in front of the laptop, mulling it over. Something about the dual pronouns felt freeing, the idea of not being bound to just the ones she was so used to using. Maybe it would be okay to try them out for a while… just to see if it stuck and still felt as validating as it did alone in her living room.

Telling someone was the next step, though, to see if they were actually comfortable with these pronouns being used about her. Sarah was apprehensive, it would be scary to ask someone to use something different, especially after all these years at Med. Still, she had no reason to fear her friends and colleagues, they should be able to accept Sarah’s wishes.

It took a couple weeks before they were ready to bring it up, after a lot more self reflection and some serious deliberation. She thought this felt right, using new pronouns like this. They weren’t too sure if non-binary was the right label for her, but it didn’t matter in that moment. One step at a time was enough and really there was all the time in the world. So one day while a group of them were at April’s apartment for dinner, Sarah decided to speak up during a lull in conversation.

“Um… Can I ask you all something?”

Eyes were on them in a second, with a chorus of nods and agreement following almost immediately. She trusted everyone there, it was only April, Noah, Natalie, and Connor. Connor had brought Doctor Bekker too but Ava had always been nice enough to Sarah so she wasn’t worried. Besides, the rumour was that Ava wasn’t straight, if Sarah chose to listen to gossip, so she of all people should understand.

“What’s up, Sarah?”

Smiling shyly at Noah, who had looked at her curiously when he spoke, they nodded slowly before starting, “Uh… well I have done a lot of thinking lately… I want to try using she/they pronouns. So I want to ask you all to use both sets of pronouns for me.”

The silence scared her at first, instant regret setting in. Sarah wasn’t sure if that was bad or not, especially with the confusion on Nat’s face. Surprisingly enough it was Ava who broke the silence and Sarah caught the sharp nudge to Connor’s ribs that the surgeon gave before speaking.

“Okay, will do. Thank you for trusting us with that, Sarah, especially me since I know we don’t speak often.”

It was the nonchalant words from the blonde that helped them relax a bit, looking at Ava in silent thanks. She glanced at the rest of them shyly, hoping the worry knitting her brow together wasn’t too apparent.

“Um,” Natalie’s interjection was the most feared, though Sarah hated to admit it. It’s not that Nat couldn’t be trusted, she was just a little new to things out of the cisgendered-heteronormative binary and it made Sarah worried she wouldn’t be immediately accepting.

“What exactly does that mean?”

Sarah stifled a sigh of relief, an explanation was understandable and not the worst answer, “So basically I am comfortable with both she/her pronouns like you use but also they/them pronouns in the singular sense. With me you can use them interchangeably, I just like both as opposed to just she/her. I don’t... completely identify as female, I guess you could say.”

“Oh!” Noah nodded, “Like ‘Sarah said she was going to the lab, they will be back soon’?”

Sarah smiled at his excitement to understand, “Exactly like that.”

“It might be hard to adjust at first…”

“But we will still try,” April added to Natalie’s words with a pointed look, “Thank you for telling us, Sarah. We will do whatever you need to feel comfortable.”

“Reese?” When Sarah looked across the table at Connor he continued, “These two sets of pronouns, do you want us to use both at the hospital or just the ones everyone knows you as?”

“Oh yeah,” Ava agreed, “Don’t want to out the resident before they’re comfortable.”

Hearing someone else use “they” while referring to Sarah made them inexplicably happy, unable to stop the little happy hand flap she often tried to mask as she looked at Ava again. The surgeon seemed to notice the grateful glance and she nodded, a charming smile on her lips. Somehow it helped that Ava wasn’t close to her, maybe because her quick acceptance made the whole situation feel safer.

“Um, maybe just keep it between all of us at first,” Sarah answered slowly, “I’m gonna tell Maggie and Doctor Charles eventually, Ethan and Will too, but I want to give it some time before everyone else knows.”

“Got it,” Connor agreed and raised the glass of whatever alcohol he had brought with him, “Cheers to Reese’s self discovery, then.”

That made quite a few of them laugh, especially Sarah, because it eased the tension. It was still a bit weird for them, she knew that it would be an adjustment, yet no one had stormed out or gotten upset so it was a win in their book. It might take some more explanation for some time and some gentle correction, from what she knew, but it was a good start. When the conversation drifted back to lighter matters, talk of work and jokes about other things, it felt like a weight had been lifted off Sarah’s shoulders. It wasn’t perfect but they felt accepted for the most part, which helped.

When April hugged them before everyone left for home, Sarah just thanked her quietly. It went without saying that arguably her closest work friend accepted them wholeheartedly and they would probably talk about it again one on one. April just hugged Sarah a bit tighter, a reassuring murmur that things would be just fine reaching Sarah’s ears.

It was a clear night when they stepped out of the apartment complex, stopping to admire the stars for a moment before heading to her car. A call of her name had Sarah turning, though, and a familiar blonde was hurrying to catch up with her.

“Sarah, hey,” Ava’s friendly smile was visible thanks to the street lights, “I just wanted to tell you I’m proud of you for doing that. I don’t know if anyone has said it to you but I know how hard coming out can be, even as an adult. If you ever need to talk to anyone, I’m around, okay?”

“I-” Sarah felt her cheeks redden a little and they were grateful for the dim lighting that may have hid it a bit, “Thank you, doctor Bekker, that means a lot.”

“Please, call me Ava,” she laughed a little before glancing behind them, “I need to drive Connor home before he tries to walk, I’ll see you at work maybe?”

Sarah pursed their lips, stifling a laugh herself as she watched the other surgeon, clearly more than tipsy, hovering behind them looking lost, “See you then.”

“We can maybe get coffee some day,” Ava added nonchalantly as she turned to walk away, “Bye, Sarah.”

Sarah was left hovering by her car, the blush having returned to settle on her face. Once again their social skills evaded them, wondering if that was an allusion to a date or if Ava was simply being friendly. Either way, the immediate acceptance and friendly gesture from the supposedly cold and competitive surgeon was enough to make her giddy, shocked with how easily things went over. Not only did Sarah successfully come out to half her friends, but they may have made a new one in the process. It wouldn’t always be easy, she knew that, yet this was a situation that they decided to count as a good experience; all things considered.

It made her feel like maybe there had never been anything wrong with them at all. They were Sarah, that’s all, and in that moment maybe she was more than enough for the right people.

#am i projecting?#i guess we’ll never know #:]#anyway #I wasn’t going to make reesker happen but my little gay brain said it’s pride month #<3 #the pronoun thing was hard because I wanted to use she/they from the start but that would have spoiled the build up #i hope i did this justice #she/they sarah rights babey #sarah reese #this is so bad and so unedited <3 #but it’s also the most I’ve written in weeks

16 notes · View notes

tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Passion Project (4/4)

Summary:

“Ignoring Hange Zoe had become a little passion project he allowed himself to indulge in, in between expeditions and quietly mourning unnecessary deaths in the battlefield.”

Levi tries to ignore Hange but it never seems to last. A ficlet detailing the development of Levi and Hange’s relationship before canon.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Link to other chapters: 1 2 3

“Captain, you’re moving a little too fast, could you please slow down with the next titan?”

“Moblit, this is the tenth titan I’ve killed today.”

“Apologies sir, we might need some clearer sketches so our squad leader could make the final decision on these blades.”

“Okay then.” Levi held back the grimace that was threatening to come out then. Moblit was just following orders after all.

Cooperating with each other’s squads was Erwin’s orders and in the end, Levi and Hange still had to work together. The first few experiments were easy, quality checking improvements for grenades, base supplies, flare guns and gas cannisters. They were all routine and Hange didn’t need to be there. Soon after she stopped showing up, Levi started to realize he didn’t have to show up in any of her capture missions either, only making it easier to pretend she didn’t exist.

At that moment though, having been stuck on the wall strategizing for more than four hours already, Levi was starting to accept that pretending Hange didn’t exist wasn’t such an efficient idea. When Hange wasn’t simping for titans after all, she had the brain of a logistics and a research prodigy, a rare gift that had propelled her to the top of that military section in the first place.

Levi couldn't help but think with his little struggle with Moblit, he had just stumbled upon a situation of the blind leading the blind. And with every failed attempt to get feedback on the prototype blades, its effect on the balance of the user, and the efficiency with which it cuts through the titans' nape, the inevitable only became all the more inevitable (if that was even possible). They wouldn’t make it on time for their deadline.

Levi jumped back down to the foot of the wall. There were three more titans attempting to scramble up the walls to no avail and Levi had two tests, the control and the experimental test and with that, two types of blades to test, the original and the prototype. They had come up with the genius idea of using a different type on each hand. Or begrudgingly, it had been Hange’s idea which Moblit had so graciously told him that afternoon after their miserable last session a few days before.

We need to check how deep you can slice with each of them. Moblit had said. And whether it slices cleanly through the neck. The older weapons were naturally duller which made cutting up napes a tall order for the average soldier.

Hange though had been working on a different blade which could make killing a titan an achievable goal for even the cadets in the garrison unit.

Levi felt some difference having been using those same blinds for long enough already. It was nothing more than a minute difference in movement for him. Levi was good with comabt which made him so easily adaptable already to the difference of blades. Hange had sworn though that there was a stark difference, many experiments ago back when they were still on speaking terms. With that unspoken yet mutual agreement not to speak though, Moblit was left with the burden of sketching what he can to capture that minute difference and Levi was left to find a way to slow down his movements to something accessible to the naked eye while exposing himself to the novel risk of being eaten by a titan with every single round.

Levi only realized as the sun started to set below the horizon and the sky started to look a little redder, that they had been up on the wall for what must have been five hours. They were both blind and consequently inefficient.

“We could try this another day?” Moblit suggested.

“You should get NIfa or Keiji here to help next time. More people to sketch, the faster this will go.”

Moblit put down the sketchpad and sighed. “I’m the only one who actually sketches among us so I don’t think they would be much of a help either. Our worst case scenario then is we hire other artists? Hopefully Commander Erwin would allow the funds for that. ” Hange’s right hand man had a generally courteous demeanor. Although Levi had felt a little accused by Moblit’s face, he couldn’t tell if the man really meant to inject spite into that statement.

He was right though. For one, of course Erwin wouldn’t waste the already low budget the Survey Corps receives every year on artists when a free alternative existed already.

Get Hange to show up for the experiment.

But it wasn’t that easy. Levi thought to himself. Eventually his anger at Hange dissipated but by then, even before he was aware of it, ignoring each other had morphed into a cruel game by some nonverbal agreement between both sides. Hange just stopped looking at him when they were in the same room and he decided to reciprocate that same action. Possibly out of pride more than anything else.

The situation at the scouts headquarters that night was no different. Hange and Levi’s squads were stationed nearby and everyone knew each other fairly well. As they all reunited in the castle after Hange’s successful attempt at training her own squad and Levi’s special Ops squad for the next titan capture attempt and Levi’s unsuccessful attempt at testing the blades, the tension in the room only became stronger.

Levi felt it as a sensation that consumed him slowly from his toes all the way to his fingertips, leaving him unable to do much but lock gazes with whoever was nearby that wasn’t Hange. He heard it in the uncomfortable mumbles of both Oluo and Petra, the more emotional ones in his team and he saw it in the way Moblit had a smile much wider than what should have been professional.

In his peripherals, he saw it, Hange making small talk with Gunther and Eld to her right, praising them for their quick wit and their ability to master the titan capture contraption she had been cooking up.

The frustrating part was, there was no tension in the way Hange gesticulated and gave out praises in that annoyingly sing-songy tone. Back then, it had felt like screeching in his ears. At present, that voice completely bypassed the ears and went straight for his chest sending piercing and almost nauseating sensations through his heart.

“I'm really grateful. Thank you for all of your help cleaning the lab last week. And of course, for cooperating with me today. My family sent over some souvenirs so I thought I’d share it. ” Hange went for the cupboards to the side of the common room and came back with a large enough bag with the familiar royal seal of that same familiar black tea shop.

“Their shortcakes are also pretty good so I asked my parents to send some over.” Hange continued as she laid out the boxes on the table. There were boxes of tea and boxes of shortcakes. Levi quickly counted them and was sure there was enough on the table for every single person in the room to have one box of tea and one shortcake.

Hange started to slide boxes over to the other soldiers

Rashad. Gunther. Moblit. Nifa. Eld. Keiji. Lauda. Oluo. Levi had occupied himself by saying the names out loud in his head. Hange was taking her sweet time, making sure to say a word of praise to every single person on the table.

That friendly gesture on her end only served to pull Levi back to the situation at hand despite his attempts to distract himself. Was she going to say anything about me? Was she going to apologize? Make peace?

He was on the other side of the table though, the farthest from her and Hange had gone for those closest first. He had to be patient.

After what felt like a lifetime to Levi, Hange only had four more boxes on the table. Two for herself and two for me. Levi thought to himself. Despite the tensions in the room, he found himself excited to be able to taste the delectable shortcake which he had been admiring in the underground, along with the black tea that despite the somewhat salty memories in retrospect still had the malty and bitter taste he enjoyed so much.

Levi chose the exact moment her hands went for the black tea to look up at her. To his surprise, she was looking back at him.

They were on opposite ends of the large round table and thus, the distance only made it difficult for Levi to realize that she wasn’t looking at him at all. It was as if she was looking past him.

At the window behind him. “Looks like it’s getting late everyone. We should get back to the barracks. I’ll keep these two for myself,” Hange said, sliding two of the boxes into her bag.

And the other two? Levi found himself asking silently. The discomfort he was feeling had him speechless.

As if to answer his question, Hange slid the two boxes across to Petra. “Petra, you really worked hard on that first aid plan today. We're trying to keep casualties to a minimum so that was really a great addition to the plan. You deserve something extra.”

“Ah… Thanks!” Petra answered. Levi noticed she had snuck an uncertain glance at him. Levi looked away, not wanting to influence whatever decision Petra chose to make. There was only one decision though that could have made Levi the least uncomfortable at that moment.

“Maybe you should share it with some family or friends?” Hange suggested. “You might know someone who would appreciate this. I heard It’s going to be pretty difficult to find something with this recipe from now on since they’ll be phasing out the shortcake. I heard they’ll be changing the black tea recipe too. It’s one of my favorite mixes so I’d be happy if as many people as possible got to try it.”

Hange could have been thinking about him or she could have been thinking about anyone in the general public. Levi though had erred too much on the side of the assumer.

He didn’t want to make that mistake again.

Passion Project

“To be frank, I don’t feel too good about having to approach you too like this. As a commander and as your friend, I trust both of you to do your jobs. As of late though, it looks like you two have been experiencing some bumps when actually trying to do your jobs. Care to explain?”

To Levi’s relief, Hange spoke up. He had no plans of being the first one to answer.

“What do you mean by… bumps? Erwin?”

It was as if Erwin had been ready to answer the question for a while. His approaching the desk and pulling out a wad of papers conveniently at the top of his drawer had seemed rehearsed.

“Let’s see here,” Erwin said. “I am still expecting a deliverable on the proto-type blades the research team has been working on… And Hange, why does your plan for the next titan capture mission involve everyone in Levi’s squad except Levi. “

“I thought Levi would have been busy with experimenting on the new blades so I didn’t want to bother him too much. Also... since I’m only expecting to capture one titan on our next expedition, I think his squad is more than capable of handling the titan capture without him.”

I wouldn’t have picked them if they weren’t. Levi had to note. He found himself a little amazed that despite the tension between them, Hange had given a pretty reasonable answer.

“And about the experiments on the blades Levi, have you been working on those?”

“Yes. Moblit and I have been working on them,” Levi answered, keeping his replies as brief as possible. He didn’t think he had Hange’s charisma to pull off such a reasonable explanation but he should at least be able to manage not making a fool of himself.

“And it looks like you’ve been working on them for more than a month,” Erwin noted. He looked to Hange. “Hange, How many trials do you need?”

“Just one good one. I only need to see Levi’s movements and positions when he slices the blades, I think that’s more than enough for me to see whether the new prototype can really be helpful to the average soldier.”

“Then why is this taking a month to do?” Erwin looked to both of them and Levi was somehow relieved that at least whatever fault they may be concluded to have, it would most likely be shared between the both of them.

“I asked Moblit to sketch it,” Hange answered with the same charisma and confidence of a while ago. If Hange had been talking to an idiot with that tone, she would have convinced them.

Erwin though, was no idiot. “Sketch it?”

“Sketch Levi’s position.”

“You mean draw Levi’s position in the air while he’s slicing the titan’s nape.”

Hange nodded. “Moblit is a very good sketch artist.”

Erwin raised one eyebrow and turned to Levi. “And Levi, how has that been working for you?”

“Moblit says I move too fast,” Levi answered.

“And that’s why it’s been taking you a month to do this?”

“I’m still trying to learn how to slow down.”

“And why can’t Hange see for herself the experiment?”

“She’s busy,” Levi answered.

Erwin rested his chin on his hands. “Oh, so you too have been too busy to coordinate yourself that Petra and Moblit had to do all the liaising for the both of you?” He took out the first two pages and slid the rest of the papers under them.

One crucial part of being a leader of his own team had completely slipped Levi’s mind as he played the silent treatment card a little too seriously. The paperwork.

“If I recall correctly, I told both of you to fill out these reports together. A lot of the technological developments in the survey corps are dependent on both of your performances after all.”

Hange and Levi both remained silent.

It didn’t look like Erwin was giving them time to defend it either. “Why are these both signed Moblit and Petra? Neither of you could make it to the fortnightly meeting I required of both of you? And neither of you even bothered to tell one another you couldn’t make it?”

Levi swallowed the lump in his throat. That had been an oversight on his end and as he looked to Hange to see that same panic, it turned out he wasn’t alone. Levi had asked Petra to handle the paperwork so he wouldn’t have to deal with Hange.

And it turned out Hange had done the same.

“Both of you are lucky you have subordinates who know both of your trades so well that even if it wasn’t signed by them, I still would have thought the both of you prepared it.” Erwin said as he fixed the papers neatly on his desk. “Except the handwriting part.”

It was an attempt at some humor to lighten the already awkward mood of the room. It hadn’t worked though. With how he felt, Levi actually felt slightly insulted that Erwin had mentioned their shitty handwritings on top of their inability to do their jobs.

“I’m seeing an issue of communication here and I think you two should be addressing it now. The next expedition is in three days and I don’t want any unnecessary deaths just because of some bad communication and failure to deliver on both of your parts. If I see another paper signed by Moblit or Petra--- or scratch that, anyone else other than both of you, any time in the near future, I will shred all the reports I have right now and I will ask both of you to redo it all.” Erwin paused for long enough to glare at both Hange and Levi. “Don’t test me.”

And with that, the short meeting was over. Hange stood up, gave a friendly greeting and walked out.

The door frame could have fit both of them. Levi though, had let Hange go first, not wanting to confront her then. Hange’s face had been unreadable and after that small rageful stint in the research lab a few weeks back, he realized there were buttons about her, he just didn’t want to push just yet.

“Levi, stay.”

Levi looked back at Erwin and mechanically moved back to his seat.

“Moblit and Petra already told me about what happened so I don’t need the whole story from you if that’s what you’re expecting,” Erwin started.

“What did they tell you?”

“What happened after the titan went loose and after her lab got destroyed.” Erwin shook his head. “But that’s not the point. As your commander, I’ll say this. You and Hange are two of the most valuable soldiers in the survey corps. It was your cooperation that got us into this standing in the first place and that’s why it’s in all our best interest that you two keep your communication lines open.”

Levi could only listen.

“And as both of your friends, this is what I have to say. You two are just going to remain as miserable as you are right now if you don’t fix this between yourselves.”

“Miserable? What makes you think I’m miserable?” He had already accepted long ago that it was making him miserable. What makes you think Hange is miserable?

“Maybe because you’re denying it right now?” Erwin said.

There should have been more to it than that. And the knowing look Erwin had given Levi then only added to his self consciousness at that moment. He noticed everything from the way his shoulders dropped, to the way he had leaned further into the chair and the way he had let his eyes fall to the floor below him. “And Hange? What makes you think Hange’s miserable?”

“She denied it too.” Erwin looked pointedly at Levi. “In this exact same way.”

Passion Project

Erwin had made sense. If that whole debacle with the titans and the cold war that followed hadn’t made him a little miserable, he probably wouldn't have entertained the prospect at all. Whether he could say the same for Hange, at that rate he didn’t want to assume.

The commander had seemed privy to both sides and it was he who decided the next plan of action to go about the rift that was created between the two.

Talking to Hange is easy. Proving to her that you still consider her a valuable friend is a little harder.

It was only through Erwin’s words did he realize how much of an arse he had been to Hange lately. He had played that little game of silent treatments since Hange had approached him about the titan capture mission. All he needed was Erwin to knock some sense into him before he quickly recalled everything, while a little more biased against his own actions.

And this is how you repent for this. Levi had to remind himself as he wandered through the woods. He wasn’t excited at all for the plan Erwin had laid out.

“Hange has been a little hyper fixated on getting a specific type of sample she wanted to work with. If you give it to her as a peace offering, maybe you could win back her trust?”

Maybe? It wasn’t a maybe. Erwin had proposed it in a way that it sounded foolproof. And Levi was starting to become a little more convinced that it might just work. Not just because of Erwin’s persuasion. Also because he was doing something that had been so unimaginable and so repulsive of an idea that he would have never done it if it wasn’t for the suggestion and the eventual prodding of Erwin. He probably would have tried any other idea first. But that was the idea left for him. He was desperate and somehow, he was clinging to the hope that Hange would see that desperation.

Most titans stay in the woods so keep an eye out for it. They’re usually on the ground next to the trees and they look like tiny cocoons. Levi was sure he knew what Erwin was describing. In fact, he had seen them multiple times before.

Maybe in this same forest. He had his procedural memory on his side. All he had to do was retrace his steps. As if his own motivations to talk to Hange again were spurring him on, he didn’t take too long to find one.

The cocoons were titan puke and they didn’t dissolve as easily as titan blood. Beneath those cocoons were half digested dead bodies.

But Hange doesn’t need those. She wants the digestive juices. Erwin had pointed out.

“The digestive juices and the spit,” Levi repeated to himself like it was some sort of mantra. He only ever wanted to do that once in his life and that only time he would be doing it, he needed to do it perfectly or risk having to go back.

He took out the jar he kept underneath his cloak and bent over next to the cocoon. He pulled his green cloak up to his face to at least protect himself from the odor that he was sure was coming.

The cocoon already had an odor, a faint ominous odor that only hinted to Levi that there may have been more of it underneath.

With one blade, he poked a hole into the cocoon, and ripped it open a bit towards the top. It was big for an arm to move freely inside without actually having to touch the shell of the cocoon. It wasn’t big enough to send the digested material spilling out.

The smell was horrendous and Levi felt tears spilling out of the corners of his eyes. Even with a first line of defense on his face, nothing had prepared him for the stench of rotting flesh mixed with digestive juices and a titan steam. It had his head spinning and Levi found himself teetering to a tree as far away as possible from the scent but still at least near enough to keep an eye on the cocoon.

He took a break and he made sure it was a quick one. He counted down two minutes to be exact. He only had ten to twenty minutes to finish this little project before a titan appears or worse, his squad starts to look for him. He had little time to waste.

He removed his cloak, folded it and wrapped it tightly around his face, covering all the way up to his eyes which were burning from the stench.

This wasn’t a test of courage nor was it a life threatening combat situation. As Levi got closer to the cocoon, he quickly memorized his surroundings before pulling the cloak up to his head. For that five minutes, he could spare his vision and his full range of movement. He could be as cowardly as he wanted to be.

But really, he would have rather been facing thirty titans at that moment.

Levi found himself having to talk to himself, having to coax himself through the motions just to be able to get his feet moving towards that horrible stench. All he had to do was feel around for the cocoon, dip the jar in, quickly put the cap over it, run away and the hell should be over.

“Levi, why are you here? And why are you like...” A voice rang out in the darkness.

The hell would have been over. It seemed like the devil heard his monologue and opened up another circle of hell.

“Hange?” He had attempted to say. The cloth had gotten caught in his mouth and it had ended up sounding a little more like a muffle. He had tried to enunciate the words a bit before the fold of his cloak got further caught in his mouth.

Levi should have godly balance with the amount of experience he had flying through the air, killing man eaten beasts. At that moment, incapacitated by the foul odor, the awkwardness of the situation, the embarrassment of being caught in it and the disorientation that came with having a piece of cloth tightly wound over his whole head, Levi lost his balance for the first time in years.

He fell forward with a big, loud and incredibly putrid splash.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

Levi felt arms around him before the putrid and mildewy smell rushed up his nose, taking his consciousness with it.

“Get yourself together!”

Passion Project

When Levi came to, the odor hadn’t left. In fact, it was more pungent that he could even remember and Levi had to bury his face on the cloak that was conveniently in front of him to stop himself from hurling whatever those odors were pushing out of him.

The cloak didn’t smell as clean as his own. Any smell though far enough from the one he had just witnessed was a good enough respite. The respite didn’t last long though, soon enough the scent did creep up on him and as Levi soon realized, the cloak had the beginnings of that same odor.

He was the one who smelled like it. That exact moment when the odor did rush through him into his nostrils and spread to both up his head and down his throat, the horse he had been riding broke rhythm and had Levi jumping in his seat.

“Stop….” Stop the horse. Levi felt the contents of his stomach quickly climb up as if the odor had pulled them out himself.

“Levi, you okay?”

Of course I’m not! Levi would have wanted to say. Before he could even ponder the ridiculousness of the question, his body took over his inhibitions.

The last thing he remembered before faded out of consciousness was the cloak in front of him drenched with his own personal cocktail of digestive juices.

Passion Project

“Good morning!”

It had been a week since they got back from the expedition

“I brought breakfast.”

And he had been waking up to that same view of Hange by the door since he started to get a better sense of his surroundings.

The breakfast consisted of bread and egg whites just like he requested. He had attempted a more daring combination of food when he first woke up, and the first night Hange had even tried to serve him black tea. The foul odor which still lingered like a ghost made itself particularly known through his taste buds. With the more daring food choices, Levi found himself facing a disgusting mix of rotten mildew and edible food which had him nauseated if not throwing up at just the first bite.

With the plain choice of egg whites and a piece of bread, he was at least able to placate that little ghost of an odor. He didn’t enjoy the tastes and the sensations which still stung at his throat and rushed to his nose in the most inopportune time. As Hange had told him though countless times since they got back from the expedition, he still had to eat.

He was halfway through the harrowing experience of chewing the bread when Hange spoke up.

“I looked into the samples you took and I think I found out why it smelled weird. To be honest, I threw up too when I opened the jar.” It was just like her to have a little lack of awareness at the fact that Levi was still far from recovered from the titan cocktail debacle and the fact that he was still eating when she mentioned it.

Levi willed himself to swallow the last morsels of bread. “You really want to talk about it now?” he asked, eyeing the plate of egg whites in front of him. The egg whites were starting to look less appetizing by the second. As if they were appetizing. Levi almost forgot how ‘appetizing’ actually feels like.

“We can talk about something else first,” Hange suggested.

Levi pushed the plate away. “No, go ahead.” He had lost all motivation to force the food down his throat. Somehow, the explanation for his one week of recovery that followed that splash into what could have been hell seemed to be more ‘appetizing.’

“The cocoon on top of the rotting flesh and organic matter, was the ideal environment for some fungi to grow too. And that pungent smell was released by the fungi when their vacuum was disturbed…” Hange started. “On top of the titan spit and the rotting bodies…”

Levi knew it was odd. Despite being his fastidious self, Levi had been exposed to enough disgusting things to have at least been able to stand the odor. He had been drenched with titan blood. He had been surrounded by dead bodies a few times. That odor shouldn’t have been enough to knock him out.

But it did.

The pungent odor was cruel. It lingered for days. In fact, even Erwin had sympathized as if he knew how horrible that smell had been. He had given him the week off after the expedition to get his life together after. It was Hange who had stayed in the room while he alternated between the bed and the bathroom. It was Hange who forced him to eat enough so he wouldn’t starve to death.

That week while he recovered from the ordeal of a head first splash into the cocoon juice, his life consisted of sleeping and showering and struggling to eat in between.

“Figures…” Levi said

“And for someone as obsessed with cleanliness as you, of course it would have made you a little sicker.” Hange paused for a second and her lips curled up subtly. “And you did dunk your head in.”

Levi blinked back the memory of that fiasco. It had seemed like a fevered dream then. From what he understood, he had flitted in and out of consciousness on the way back from the last expedition. There were voices discussing the logistics of transporting an unconscious yet stinky captain and one notable voice that had stuck out, so confidently volunteering to have him ride behind her. The only proof that it was anything but a fevered dream was that vivid memory of throwing up half conscious on Hange’s horse and the strong bout of embarrassment that followed. So strong that Levi felt the blood rush through his face just thinking about it. He ended up looking away. That was the last thing he wanted to recall then. He coughed. “Did you find out anything else from those samples?”

Hange shook her head, looking regretful. “Nothing much that could have hinted to the origins of titans. So far… It was all rotting organic matter. The cocoon had smoked when you opened up, which means if there were fluids from within the titan, they might have evaporated already by the time you got the samples.”

“So it was all a waste?”

“Not really. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that type of fungi in my life. Maybe I could study it in my free time,” Hange said. “And you can help by telling me all about your experience.”

That wouldn’t be an experience Levi would have been happy to recall. But if she were going to continue looking at him with that same wonder and curiosity, with that same wide smile and starry eyes, he might just comply.

He didn’t tell her that though but he didn’t reject her either. “Maybe…”

“I’m sorry. I never got to thank you for the samples...” Hange’s cheeks were a little rosier which only made Levi stare at that smile for a little longer. “I was planning on getting samples during that expedition but then I found you there... getting them for me… Why did you?”

“You like studying titans right?”

“But I know you don’t like that I do it. You hate titans and you’re a clean freak. And I was, studying them, enjoying it, making messes, sometimes endangering lives…Ever since before, when I started focusing more on titan research, you don’t visit as often and when I suggested we capture a titan, you kept ignoring me. It’s like you’ve been avoiding me. And with what happened in the lab... You told me yourself you didn’t want to talk to me anymore… So I didn’t expect this at all…”

Levi admitted, he regretted those last few words. But everything before that, those biweekly tea dates, those hours he spent just waiting for her in the lab. How could those have been interpreted as him not wanting to see her? “Weren’t you the one a little too obsessed with your research?”

Hange widened her eyes. “Was I?”

“All you did was coop yourself up in the lab, I had to be the one to take you out for baths, force you to actually spend time with me. How the hell does that make you think I didn’t want to hang out with you.”

“Because you always sounded angry when we actually talked.”

“Did I?” Levi had to concede, she had been annoying and frustrating and maybe he had raised his voice at her. And he did have to knock her out a few times to get her to bathe. But did he really have any other choice?

“You knocked me out to bathe me,” Hange said pointedly.

“Maybe because I thought you should take care of yourself more and Moblit has been trying to tell you that for years.”

“Yes I get that Levi but knocking people out actually does the complete opposite of self care. You could have asked nicely.”

“Weren’t you listening? Moblit has been asking you nicely for years.” Levi hissed. “I had to resort to that because you weren’t listening to anyone. If the titans were the ones who reminded maybe you would have actually listened,” Levi turned to her and narrowed his eyes. “Does your relationship with your squad mean anything to you? Does our relationship mean anything to you? Or is the only thing in your head just titans now?”

Hange’s eyes were wide with shock for a while. The realization he could make out in her face was enough for Levi to stop and wait for her response. Her expression was at least enough for him to want to listen to what she had to say next.

“Maybe you’re right… I’ve been a little too excited,” Hange’s expression softened. “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten this excited over something. When I see titans, I’m excited, when I see an abnormal die, I get angry. When I got Ilse’s journal and read through it, Levi… I felt something bubble inside me and I was ecstatic for days. Is this hope? Wonder? There’s so much we don’t know about this world… I don’t know, I don’t think I’ve ever been this emotional in my life and lately, I get so excited just waking up every single day. How would you describe this feeling?”

Hange’s words were stilted and it was apparent that she was talking while coming up with what to side. Her words were coming out faster than her mind was coming up with them. Yet at the same time, they flowed so easily and smoothly, like an unimpeded stream.

Passion Levi could only suspect one emotion that could do just that to people. And as Hange started to talk about the one thing that had made her so emotional, so excitable and so hyper fixated that past five years. When he saw the way her eyes wandered around the room, probably not focused on her surroundings but on the memories of all those creatures that had made her so excitable, he was sure she was seeing more colors and more sensations.

He himself was no stranger to it. The past five years, he had been more irritable, more angry, more frustrated. At the same time, he had been happier. Back then, when they had first met, he never did understand what kept her rambling on to other people about nonsense. But somehow, with the amplification of his own emotions the past five years, the sudden emotional investment he gave to specific things, he started to emphasize.

You have your passion projects and I have mine. Levi closed his eyes and looked away. The truths and implications behind that sentence had Levi’s chest hurting and it brought back the memories of his own fractured ribs from many years ago having been squeezed by a titan. His heart was hurting and the pain rushed all the way up to his mouth.

And Levi swallowed it back in as quickly and as violently as it had rushed out.

“Hey? You okay? You’re gonna puke again?”

“No,” Levi managed to answer. He wondered though if he had come out as a croak or as a coherent answer. He kept his eyes closed and detached himself from his surroundings, allowing himself one final reflection of what had rocked him so violently to the core.

The realization came after an eternity that could have probably only lasted a few seconds. She was his passion project. Somehow, he wished that he had been hers too.

When Levi opened his eyes again, Hange had pushed a basin in front of him, ready to catch anything that comes out of him. She was staring at him so intently, saying things about keeping it down, getting some rest but he hadn’t been listening.

He saw wonder in her eyes. He felt concern in her tone. And maybe, underneath all that, there could have been care, and possibly even passion. Do I make you feel the same way? Do you feel things with me that you don’t feel with titans? Somehow, he had managed to convince himself that the expression she gave him as they locked eyes, were only his to enjoy.

“I’m fine.” As quickly as that feeling clenched at his chest and pushed the bile up at his throat, it pushed it back down again and with it had placated that war that waged inside him.

“Hey, you scared me. I thought you were gonna get sicker again and go on those long naps again. The last time you ever slept that long was in the hospital.”

Of course Hange would know. She had been the one visiting everyday. “I won’t. Besides, you’ve been visiting everyday right? Don’t you have research to do?” Levi asked.

“Well, I thought I’d wait for you to feel better first. Besides, there are things I wanna test and I’d rather you were there with me.”

I thought I’d wait for you to feel better first. Levi found himself smiling. “Thanks for taking care of me.” For once, she had picked him over titans.

“Of course, you’re humanity’s strongest and we have lots of work to do when you’re out of leave. Erwin still needs reports on the new blades and we’re going to have to redo the titan capture strategy if you’re willing to help out…”

As quickly as the smile had curled up his lips, it morphed into a grimace.

“But first things first, let’s focus on getting you up to speed. Are you going to finish those egg whites? You’re not doing yourself any favors leaving it like that.”

With the right prodding, Hange managed to get Levi to swallow those egg whites in spite of her incessant and detailed rambles about her findings on that very unappetizing cocoon.

Passion Project

Levi did not doubt it. Hange did live with passion. He felt it as a tingle in his eyes when he would count the stars in her eyes as she reported the results of her research over strategy meetings and nights of cafe. He felt it as blood rushing to his ears when he’d hear her shrill screams from up on the wall as he proved another one of her hypotheses about titans correct. He felt it when his nose burned as he entered the lab, only to have to knock her out for another bath.

It was fairly obvious what had been breathing life and passion into her. Those feelings were all tied to one thing--- titans. To save himself the potential pain of expecting something from the unexpected, Levi chalked up her passion for titans as an inevitable truth.

Sometimes though, he was the object of her shrill screams or those stars in her eyes. In those few times, he stood corrected. And in those not-so-few occasions he was proven wrong, Levi was happy for hours, maybe even days.

“I wonder if you’ll still get this much praise if they find out how much of a neat freak you are.”

One of the few places Hange seemed to give him more attention than usual was the ride to the gates of the walls. It was that heavenly in-between. Hange was too far from her lab, yet still too far from the field to be considering titans. And for those few moments, sometimes he did have her full attention.

Just like every other time she engaged in a non-titan related conversation with him, it was music to his ears. Those moments always came as a welcome reprieve Levi wished would never end.

“Just beyond these walls is a world of titans…”

Just like all other reprieves though it ended. Levi used the view of the gates rising in front of him as some sort of distraction to her passionate tirade

“I wonder what kind of titans I’ll meet today...”

And once again, Levi heard the passion. That time in the music in her voice as she trailed off.

“I would really love it if we ran into an abnormal!” Of course, Hange played favorites even among her favorites.

“There’s an abnormal nearby already.” That little provocation from Levi had come up as something so casual and emotionless. Yet, Hange ate it up so quickly, Levi was sure that was where her appetite went.

“Really? Where?” Even within the confines of the wall, she was still looking for them. As if she didn’t have enough test subjects, samples and records within the walls to stare at.

And that train of thought in particular had Levi wheeling his horse a little closer to her, just to mess with her a little more. Maybe illicit some reaction from her.

“Over here.” I’m the abnormal titan. I’ll be the abnormal titan you’re so idiotically looking for within the walls.

Hange only returned his look with a confused one of her own. He looked for stars in her eyes or maybe a flush in her cheeks to find none. She just seemed utterly confused and unpreturbed and Levi found himself feeling a little disappointed in return.

Titans were disgusting. They were filthy. They were chaotic creatures. In that split second where he felt himself manifesting just a little the titans Hange loved so, he wished he were one of them, just so she could look at him, just so she could talk to him with that same sing song voice and scream at him with that same shrill sound.

“Soldiers ready!” Erwin’s voice rang out among the crowd, so naturally grabbing everyone’s attention, notably his and Hange’s.

His duty as a soldier was always priority though. As quickly as he had manifested that jealousy towards the titans, he forced it out of his mind. When Erwin demanded attention, those passion projects took a backseat, something he would only reserve a minute or so to ponder in between titan kills.

He had expected that expedition to be similar.

It turned out though, there wasn’t much mind space or emotional space to consider that passion project any longer. With the siege of Trost, the capture of titans, the 57th expedition and the quickly progressing chain of events that followed, the frustration at the unrequited feelings that came with his passion project had faded into nothing more than a regularly passing thought.

Hange never left. In fact, he was working with her more closely than before. Her projects, her experiments, her conclusions and her crackpot theories fueled by passionate research were just turning out to be more and more crucial with every development.

It was slow going and sometimes Levi did entertain that green eyed monster that would pay its occasional visit. With each turn of event and with each truth uncovered though, Levi did eventually have to accept the harsh truth that accompanied their reality.

Maybe, it was for the better that the titans kept their rightful place, the center stage of Hange’s little passion project.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

45 notes · View notes

creepyalienghost · 3 years

Text

Doctors assistant

In every town there lays its own legends. Legends of ghosts and hauntings. Legends of aliens and abductions. Legends of cryptids and government projects. And legends of cursed lands. In the town he lived in had many different tales. One tale that happened to be somewhat true was that people were going missing. People’s love ones go out for a walk or running an errand never return. The cops looked hard for each person but they never found the missing people. So many people were missing that there were a missing persons board at that park now. Another tale was about the undead. There’s reports of sightings of the undead roaming in the streets and in the rooms. Some say they had seen them eat and attack people or animals. Others say they had seen a strange figure with them almost like it was leading them. Some claim they been attacked themselves by the undead. A more fearsome legend was that of a humanoid walking though the streets and alleyways at night. It was Dressed all in black and it’s face was white as a ghost. People say it’s death heading its way towards a near deceased person to lead them in the afterlife. Others think it’s the same figure leading the undead around.

Sammy loves reading up on creepy legends around his town just as he loves his music. He would often go to to library to search of different topics and stories on the computer or read a book and newspaper articles on them. Sure he doesn’t believe most of these stories but this like music helped him escape reality from His life at home and school.

The other day he watched a YouTube video of somebody going to explore a haunted house in their area and it gave Sammy the idea to go searching for these legends to. It would be fun to explore and see what lurks around plus it would let him escape his rotten fathers abuse when he would come home drunk. Tonight sadly was one of those nights.

Sammy made sure his father wouldn’t be coming in his room anytime soon to catch him before he packed a back with the items he needs. He stuffed a few bottles of water and some snacks from his stash as well as a flashlight. He dressed himself up for the cool night with sweets and a hoodie then he opened the window, grabbed his bag and hoped out into the night.

He was off down the side walk, heading to the more empty part of town where quit a bit of reporters said the undead was seen at. most of the buildings and houses there was run down or abandoned. No one really goes around there unless for trouble. It only took Sammy half an hour to arrive there. Once there he dogged out his flash light from his bag and flipped it on. It was dark other then his own light. There was no other lights on around and the there was no moon out to light the sky

He looked around him for a second, only seeing the decaying buildings, then chose a direction to go. He believed he was heading south tours the old abandoned school but he soon found out he was wrong when he ending up in the decaying factory. It use to be where their income came from for this part of town but it long since Closed down do to better jobs else were. Now it’s windows are busted out or boarded up, it’s roof is mostly caved in and nature has begun taken back the land. Sammy decided this was the perfect place to explore at and carefully went in though a broken window.

Inside the abandoned factory he looked around his surroundings, finding himself in one of the offices. It was small with only a chair to the side and covered in cobwebs and dust. He stepped out into the long dark hallway and shined his light down both sides of the hallway. To his left were more offices and to his right, were doors to a new area, He went right going deeper into the factory.

After a few minutes of walking around, he heard another set of footsteps echoing throughout the factory. His fear spiked up as he tried to pinpoint where they were actually coming from but it was impossible to figure out. The footsteps seemed to be growing nearer him by the second making Sammy begin to panic. He flashed his light left to right to left again as he remembered what frightening things he had read. Images of Horrible-looking zombies eating away at you and death chasing you though the darkness filled his mind.

Until his light landed on a tall figure dressed in black and white. He only saw it for a second before he went into flight or fight mode. He had chosen flight and took off away from the dark thing. He ran though the darkness as fast as he can and ends up running into something. Something Squishy and slimy. Something that smells like rote He slowly raised his light up to see what it was and what he saw scared him to the core. It was a almost a man but it’s skin was pale blue, it’s it’s eyes was unseeing and he was leaking some kind of black goo from his mouth and injuries. It was an undead!

Sammy screamed and ran away from it, dropping his flashlight in the process. He could see nothing at all he was just running in the darkness with his arms out from fear. He was careless and didn’t realize the floor was soggy and falling apart. The floor underneath him collapsed under his weight and Sammy fell though, hitting the floor hard with a thud under rubble.

The tall dark figure had heard the crash all the way from the old boiler room and had quickly pinpoint its location. Good thing to. Poor thing was hurt quit a bit, his legs and arms have large gashes and his head was bleeding. The being had a soft spot for children and of course he was a doctor. His expertise was on one disease but he knew how to patch up wounds and make sure they didn’t get infected. The doctor picked up the lifeless body of the boy and made sure he was breathing, wish he was, then he checked around his skull as he made his way tours his lab to see if it was cracked. Which thank the heavens it wasn’t. This boy was going to be alright in the long run.

As the doctor laid the boy down on the metal table he noticed some bruising on his wrist. He knew it couldn’t have been from the fall but didn’t question it. Boys do tell to get hurt while playing and it was most likely that. But as he started to clean his cuts he noticed more and more disturbing things. Old little bursts on areas like his arms and neck. Fading scares to from what looks like from whips. The doctor sadly came to the conclusion he was being continuously hurt by someone.

—-

Sammy Slowly starts regaining consciousness. It started with small throbbing pain though out his body but once he shifted to the side a sharp pain shoot though him, making him set up and scream out. The pain was coming from his left leg but the damage was covered up by Bandages. He looked over himself and notice the same for both his arms and other leg, even his head. Someone had helped him out. But they also seen his secret.

Sammy carefully slid off the metal table, making sure he was steady before using his full weight to stand. He quietly limp to the open door on the other side of the room and peaked out. He quickly noticed the sound of breathing and looked at the Direction it came from. The room was mostly dark but Sammy could see well enough the same strange figure from before. It’s back was tours him and it was working on something Sammy couldn’t see, but sure can smell. It smelled like death. Fear begins to build up in him as he watched the thing do it’s work. There were the sounds of wet and sticky slushing noises coming from whatever it was doing that made Sammy want to puke but he force himself not to.

“I know you’re there, child.” It spoke without looking back.

Sammy was caught off guard by this and froze in place. He wanted to run, to get the hell outta here, but his feet were like cement in place, connected to the ground beneath him. He found out his Voice voice wouldn’t work ether. It wouldn’t let him scream nor cry or call out for help. Not a single peep would come out. His body wasn’t reacting the way he wanted it to.

The thing stopped its work, turning to Sammy. It appears to be wearing a 14th Century plague doctor mask but Sammy gets the feeling that it wasn’t a mask. It was his real face Sammy was seeing.

“I sense fear in you” the being said. “No need for fear my child. I do no harm.” The being informed, kneeling down to his height. But the fearful eyes of the boy landed on the work behind him then pointed at the dead body as if proving the being wrong. The being glaze at his work then back at him. “I do no harm for fun, my child. This poor soul was ill.” It said with pain in its voice.

The boy tilted his head. “ill?” He ask. “What was wrong with him?” He replied more curious now then fearful.”

The being admired the child want for knowledge of his work however the being didn’t want to put the boy in danger. Groups like The foundation and goc could hurt him or use him for information. “I think it’s best if you didn’t know child. Besides why are you here at this ungodly time?” The being ask. “Shouldn’t you be at home with your family?”

The being saw the boys curiosity fade back to fear. And at this point the being realized who was hurting the child. “It was them wasn’t it?” It had ask. “The old scars and bruises?”

The boy looked down at his arms for a moment before nodding. “Yes ...”

The being knew it couldn’t force the child back to that horrible place. He couldn’t do that to an innocent boy. The foundation was bad but it wouldn’t put children at harm. At worst the foundation and other groups would make him apart of there beliefs. But they would take care of him if they ever got him. As for the being, he could use an assistant and teach him as well as take care of him.

The being made the decision and held out his hand. “I am in need for an assistant, my child.” He replied. “Would you care to?”

A big smile spread over the boys face and he took the beings hand. “ I would love to, sir!”

#bendy and the ink machine #sammy lawrence #scp 049 #the plague doctor #scp

12 notes · View notes

theatregaymer · 3 years

Text

Halloween Help - Code Geass tickle story

This is a short story I wrote a few years back. Suzaku gets volunteered as a stand in for an “experiment” in Ashford Academy’s haunted house exhibit. It’s a cute lil thing, hope you enjoy it!

“But why does it need to be me?” Suzaku protested, his body pale with powder used to make him look deceased. "Because Suzaku! We need someone to be a body, and the rest of us will be far too busy with managing operations. This event needs to go well and…heh well you do have a great body.“ The brunet flushed, hardly visible under the makeup as he was urged to keep walking torward his new home for the next few hours. They were opening the haunted house soon and the mad scientist lab was part of the tour they had set up. As Suzaku laid down and the top portion was sealed, his legs were belted down to the table as he was informed to remain as lifeless as possible.

This started off pretty simple. Students would roll through the Ashford Studen Council bottom floor, now set up as a haunted mansion, they would go through a hallway and out into the lab. Most of the time it was students simply gasping or screaming at the sight of a body being experimented on, but eventually some of them got a bit more curious. Now for his own ears sake, Suzaku had placed earbuds in beforehand, thus he was unable to hear the questions being asked.

"Oh my god is that a real body!?” The scientist laughed, clapping his hands together. "You bet it is! I’ve even left his nervous system intact! Bwahahaa!“ He laughed as he did what only seemed funny at the time to spook the girls, he reached down and wiggled his fingers against Suzaku’s bare left foot. Instantly the boy spasmed, having to focus not to move his upper body too much as his toes curled and his leg jerked. What the hell? He didn’t sign on to be tickled! hit there it was again, this time it was one of the girls reaching over to curiously run a finger up his right sole. This time, because of her angle his toes fanned out, causing the girl to giggle and tickle those too. Suzaku managed to hold it in however, a goofy smile appearing on his face.

This was thankfully the only incident of it’s kind for now. During his bathroom break he chose not to mention it, figuring it was a one time deal. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Those girls seemed rather chatty, and soon enough as he went back into the case and things got going again. The very first people came in, and rather than scream they immediately asked him to show them the body. "Haha curious scientists aren’t you? Behold!” He said, this time loud enough Suzaku could hear it. Before he had time to protest however, the scientist didn’t hold back this time. He wriggled fingers along both feet, causing the brunet to wiggle his toes as he held in his laughter. "Oh my god that’s so cuute!“ Suzaku cursed his rotten luck, one of the headphones had fallen out of his ear and now he recognized one of the voices from the group. "K-kallen?” He whispered, suddenly feeling very exposed.

He hoped she wouldn’t recognize him at all, or guess that he was inside the device. He was normally part of the crew, helping direct things, but he was absent because the person originally supposed to do this was sick. Unfortunately for him, Kallen indeed did notice. And despite her frail facade, she already was hatching a plan. Sure Suzaku was a goody two shoes, annoying, sort of a jerk on occasion…but he was maybe cute…not her type…but cute. Either way she came up with a plan, getting Milly’s attention she managed to secretly have most of the traffic diverted from the lab area…relieving the scientist so he could go enjoy the rest of the Halloween festival. Now it was just her and Suzaku, the latter still strapped in for the ride.

“Um hello? anyone there?” Suzaku hadn’t heard anyone come by in a while, it was hard to hear over all the noises of screams and the spooky music and sound effects set up by Lelouch. This let Kallen approach easilly enough. Just as Suzaku was really getting worried, he felt some slightly manicured nails skittering over his left sole. This time he couldn’t help but make a small noise, “Eehehp! MMPH!” He quickly silenced imself, his worst fear from earlier coming to life. The cover he was under shifted, but damn it was heavy. He’d been covered by a sort of wooden shape of a human body, then covered by heavy sheets doused in fake blood. This of course, combined with the ankle and waist restraints, kept him from debating much when Kallen began scratching at both his arches. And that was the last straw.

Muffled though it was, Suzaku’s laughter began to rise up from under the sheets. "AHahah AHAH N-NOhoh stahahap!“ His legs tugged in vain, toes curling and uncurling as the redhead made easy pickings of his sensitive soles. Suzaku’s cackling kept going as Kallen found herself enjoying his torment. Speaking as strangely as she could, she hoped to disguise her voice. "Happy Halloweeen, Hahaha here’s your trick!” Her fingers tickled up and down his soles, driving him mad as he tried bouncing around under the extra weight. "AHaha staha shhaha no nohoh plehease not THEHEHRE!“ Kallen’s fingers were riggling inbetween his toes, sawing back and forth as the poor knight inside was giving up hope of mercy.

Then as quickly as it had begun, it stopped, the footsteps dashing away as new ones came in it’s place. Suzaku was catching his breath, feet still tingling as he awaited either rescue, or further torture. "Suzaku? Why are you still here I thought it was shutting down? that’s what Milly said anyways.” The brunet was elated, his best friend arriving to save him “Lelouch!? Oh thank god…Lelouch someone was torturing me!” The brunet complained, feeling more weight being shifted off his top, the box slowly being taken apart by his dexterous friend.

"They were what!? What did they do Suzaku? Who hurt you?“ Lelouch was protective of few things, but most of all were the people he cared about. "It was a bit embarrassing…actually. they um…tickled me.” Memories of their youth together flooded Lelouch’s mind as he chuckled. "What? You’re still ticklish Suzaku?“ The brunet flushed once more, sweat having caused some of his makeup to come off. "Like you’re one to talk, still as sensitive as ever.” He reached out and poked Lelouch in the side, not realizing that revenge was Lelouch’s specialty.

“Lelouch what are you…oh come on no…no no don’t DODOHOHHOHAHA STAHA AHAHA!” Suzaku was free to laugh aloud, his best friend cutting loose on his ticklish feet just as his mystery assailant had. Still, while they had the time, he was happy to build memories like this one. Happy Halloween indeed.

#sfw #tickling #code geass #suzaku kururugi #Halloween theme

12 notes · View notes

tolkienhorror · 3 years

Text

In Sauron’s Lab: File #5

Another oneshot about one of Sauron’s torture methods.

Warnings: Abuse, torture, non-con, flaying, public humiliation, cannibalism, medical torture.

Please note: This was created on a tumblr prompt given on my main blog. Prompt: Fingon/Sauron, Audience, Crying, Collaring, Public humiliation

************************************************************************************* ************************************************************************************* *************************************************************************************

I asked for a King to replace the one you lost, Lieutenant, and all you bring me is this, Morgoth had told Sauron when the orcs had dragged Findekáno into the throne room of the enemy’s base.

You have a week to break him, the Dark Lord had told his minion, interrupting Sauron’s almost nervous sounding explanations about how very useful the son of the new High King would be in their hands for their cause, black eyes uncaring, greyish skin glowing like the destructive flash of lightning in the shine of the Silmarils wrongly crowning that terrible, hollowed face. You make him kneel for me, or you can go right back to that mountain I pried you and feed another of your bodies to the crows.

Then they’d taken him away, and Findekáno remembered wondering if it would even take him a week at the mercy of someone who’d long given up on all empathy along with his sane mind, only to serve this monster who didn’t even bother caring about him in the presence of a prisoner, before he would wish for death. For a quick end, rather than clinging to the foolish hope that someone would come to find him here.

No one would. No one even knew he was here and they wouldn't for several weeks, not before he was expected home from his journey to Himring to surprise his husband. By the time, they would start to wonder in Hithlum, it would be too late.

Maitimo would probably learn last, and even he would not come. Findekáno had made him promise, made him swear on everything safe for what would have bordered on an oath that neither of them needed another one of. More than that, Maitimo would know, better than anyone, that Findekáno had been lost the moment his escort and he had been overwhelmed with the help of countless black arrows and half a dozen of fiery whips from behind. A year, he had once told Findekáno. If you could hold on to your will to live or your sanity or both for a year of being a prisoner in Angband, you were counted among the lucky ones.

As it turned out, for Findekáno, it was two days before he started to regret that he hadn’t tried to bite through his own wrist arteries in these few minutes that he’d spent alone in a pitch-dark, moldy cell, damned to wait for whatever what was to come. And that was before anyone had even touched him.

Findekáno had no doubt that a lot of them wanted to. Two of the boldest creatures reaching out for him had died already when another of Morgoth's highest ranking Lieutenants had dragged Findekáno from his cell to lead him towards a huge hall at the end of the dungeon wing that had already echoed with the screams of more than one of his people at that point. And dozens orcs more were very clearly waiting for their chance, lurking in the corner of that torture chamber, scarred faces distorted into sneers. The scornful whispers about all that they would love to do to their most precious prisoner given half a chance were only interrupted by the occasional brawl or by the sounds of two or more of those despicable bastards starting one of their perverted, brutal mating rituals, high on watching their master use his songs and evil instruments and cruel skill on yet another elvish prisoner.

But they would not be allowed to approach. And the one person Sauron would not lay hand on, was Findekáno himself. The former maia might long be beyond a sane mind, but if there was one thing he was not, it was stupid. Very well aware of Findekáno's relationship to the prisoner that Findekáno had robbed him of under his very nose not too long ago, not least thanks to everything Sauron had seen in Maitimo's mind in decades of not only physical but also mental torture, Sauron must know that there was very little he could have threatened Findekáno with that he didn't expect. Spending night after night with talking Maitimo through his nightmares and memories had made sure of that. Repeat performances were very obviously not among the maia's twisted preferences. So he chose to confront Findekáno with the only thing he could truly hurt him with: the suffering of his own soldiers. Which would have been bad enough on its own, but it still wasn't the worst.

Findekáno would gladly have borne every pain, every humiliation if he could have saved any of his warriors by that, even if it was only by the blade to their throats. The uncertainty of what would come for exiles like them afterward was better than even an hour under the clawed hands of Morgoth's lapdog. If they'd let him, Findekáno would have taken the place of every single of the elves and she-elves he had to watch scream their lives out and yet not being allowed to die in the first days of his captivity; and that, too, was something Sauron knew, of course. The worst was that being the only choice Findekáno could not make. This was the promise he had given his husband in return. That he would not give in. That he would not trade his soul for a couple of lives that were forfeit anyway, weakening his own mind by letting the cunning spirit of the maia enter it to rip it wide open and put into it whatever Sauron thought suited to bend Findekáno to his will. They could not have him as long as he did not give himself to them, they said, Maitimo said, so he would endure. For he knew, if his mind would no longer be his own, if he would go back to his people in the fashion Morgoth doubtlessly wanted him to, no longer himself but merely a vessel … A vessel like they had had to eliminate so many who had allegedly escaped their thralldom, coming to either his father's or Maitimo's doorstep for assault rather than refuge … Then the first person they would set Findekáno to kill would be his own husband. By refusing to give his enemies this chance, therefore trading the life of the person he loved most for the one of dozens – almost a hundred, in the end – other elves, Findekáno thought, maybe he had actually sold his soul already.

A high-pitched yell, quickly cut off by the choked gurgling of blood blocking the throat it had emerged from, tore him from the useless circle of self-hate that was his mind.

"As I was saying before you so rudely started to disassociate," Sauron sighed in that honey-laced voice of his while throwing the tongue he'd just cut from his victim's mouth in a bowl nearby, "I'm starting to think, that useless husband of yours made the wrong choice, relinquishing his claim to the throne. If all people from your side of your kin are as breakable as your unit, Your Highness, the Noldor might have been better advised living even under those kinslaying, crippled hands of your lover. Or rather, the one you haven't cut off when you were too weak to break a single shackle, that is."

Findekáno still did not give the bastard the satisfaction of an answer. He hadn't addressed the maia a single time since they'd taken him and very carefully avoided even regarding that black-clad, delicate shape with more than a fleeting glance from the corner of his eyes. It was better, not staring into those flaming eyes for too long, Maitimo had used to tell him, for you never knew what might stare back at – into – you. Besides, he was too busy, trying not to throw up when his torturer yanked the head of that elf who was firmly chained to a narrow wooden table, to the side by his red-matted blond hair, catching the streams of blood from the victim's mouth in that same bowl before handing it to one of the orcs without even looking twice, leaving the delightedly screeching creatures to fight over their breakfast. Once more, Findekáno wished he could have told the elf – his captain – that it would be over soon, at least, but judging by the last three scenes of this kind he'd already had to watch, chained to a chair of metal himself in a way that left no inch of a room to try and free himself, that would have been a blatant lie.

Sauron hated being distracted by too much talk when he was working but he very much enjoyed hearing his victims scream, that was all. So this was always how he started. "Let's see if we can get a little more fight out of this one, shall we? It would be a shame if you had to do without the leader of your escort once you'll promise yourself to the Lord of this world."

The Never was on the tip of Findekáno's tongue, but it never came, and maybe not only because he refused to acknowledge the numbing poison that was Sauron's words with anything but a blank stare. It was hard, holding on to resistance when you had to watch your enemy reach for a diamond-sharp knife and put a first clean, deep cut to his newest victim's body, right around the wrist, in front of the broad shackle holding the captain's arm in place, and then start to peel off the first layers of skin inch by inch, finger by finger, more patches of flesh and skin carelessly thrown towards the drooling audience. It was a mercy, one that Findekáno shouldn't be half as thankful for as he was, that the elf's voice was soon too sore from screaming to produce more than a hoarse noises, hardly even able to drown out the mirthful whistling on Sauron's lips that was a most basic healing spell to keep blood loss and infections at bay. And it was an irony that wasn't lost to Findekáno, that he'd spent almost two years, trying to convince his husband that he had no reason to hate himself for what he'd seen and been forced to do during his own captivity, and that he could feel the same blackness of loathing wash over his own soul now; thick acid trying to bury every memory of light and love and friendship especially to these people he had to see suffer right in front of his eyes, maybe never to be revived. It was far easier to believe in innocence when you weren't the one watching silently. That heaviness of shock and any missing rest for days, that had started to take hold of his soul, was spreading, creeping over his skin in droves and leaving it numb, so that he did not realize, there were tears rolling down his cheeks, until Sauron was suddenly standing right in front of his chair and grabbed his cheek to slowly lick the salt off his face with his forked tongue, laying hands on him for the first time. The nausea grew instantly, a gagging sitting in the back of Findekáno's throat that he didn't want to let his enemy hear either, so he just jerked his head away and bit his tongue bloody to keep silent.

"You taste sweeter than your lover, little Princeling," Sauron murmured huskily, blood-covered, spidery hands brushing through Findekáno's messy hair. "You might want to rethink your priorities. You could have a life so much better by my side than being the useless son of a lesser King. The only thing you're doing right now is hurting everyone in this room." Findekáno's ongoing silence seemed to be loud enough, because he backed away with a shrug. Ridiculously gentle for what he'd been doing to every of Findekáno's soldiers for a few days now, he tugged two of the golden ribbons from his braids and went back to his current victim. After handing his minions another bowl full of red to slurp that had been filled by that skinned hand of a barely conscious elf in the last few minutes, he wrapped the ribbon around the mess of twitching, bared muscle and pressed the captain's wrist down against the table with his elbow while reaching for a long nail and a hammer. "Now, now." An admonishing noise came from Sauron's cherry-red lips when Findekáno turned his head away, unable to stand the sight of that nail being pressed right in the middle of that ruined palm, with only the fabric of the ribbon between, the sight of a usually so proud, brave warrior arching up against his chains in fear. "Is that a way to honor your people's sacrifice for you, Your Highness? You won't even look at them while they're suffering for you?"

A sob that he could no longer hold back came from Findekáno's lips but could never make it past the echo of the new, broken scream from one of his oldest friends when the hammer drove the nail through his flesh in a single strike.

It didn't last long, because the elf had finally blacked out which didn't stop Sauron from repeating the same cruel process on the other arm so that his victim came to even more inhuman pain. With the second nail in place, the chains were no longer necessary to hold that marred, infection-weakened, writhing body in place as Morgoth's butcher reached for his knife once more. "Did you know, my precious Prince," he said calmly while he put the blood-smeared tip to the elf's left side, right under the ribcage, "there's at least four organs a Firstborn body can survive without? And a dozen others of which you can take at least half away before you need to sing the rest back together to function? You should know. I've fed a couple of your husband's parts to my wolves. I think they might get some more elvish dinner tonight." The knife started to cut. With a disgusting, meaty sound, a mess of red and yellow was dropped in a bucket below the table.

But this time, it wasn't the captain's scream that filled the room the loudest but a sound Findekáno hadn't known he was about to make before it came, his resolve shattered into pieces.

"What was that?" Now it was Sauron, not even looking up but reaching for needle and thread instead to close the crude cut he'd just made before his victim could bleed out on him. "Anything you want, my precious Princeling? All you have to do is ask, you know."

"Please." This time, the word came quietly, but clear and unmistakable. Apparently, after all this time that Findekáno had thought he would be the rock in their relationship, had to be, because Maitimo didn't have the strength anymore, it was time to admit, that his husband had been the stronger one between them from the start. Perhaps, when it came to it, if Findekáno would only ever leave this fortress again an enemy of his own people, no longer the master of his own mind and thoughts and will, his husband would even be strong enough to kill him before Findekáno could beat him to it. "Stop. If it is me you want, release my people."

"Is that an order, Your Highness?" Wholly unimpressed, Sauron moved to his victim's other side and caressed the quickly, panicked heaving chest with just the tip of his knife, as if trying to make out the best spot to continue his gruesome work. "I do not need more food for my troops and beasts. I need a servant loyal to me and my master. Is that what you want, Prince of the Noldor? To serve the Dark Lord?"

"Yes." It became easier, Findekáno found dully, once you had given in to your fate. He did not even shy away from that triumphing, flickering stare of his enemy any longer. Maybe it would hurt less if he let himself fall for it quickly.

"Yes, what?" His hand wandering lower, Sauron thrust his knife deeply into his victim's loins, spearing a kidney, impatiently wiping blood of his cheek, both from the new horrible wound and from the captain's mangled hand, from its useless, mindless attempt of freeing itself from the nail crucifying it.

"Yes. Master." Findekáno never lowered his head. There was no use, trying to look away now.

"Better. We're getting there." Sauron just left his tool right where it was, impaling his victim's body in a third place, and went to the back of a room to open a silver box with the symbol of his eye on it that had been waiting there from the first hour on. A flash of gold and obsidian shone in the bright candle light as he slowly approached Findekáno, dangling from a lazy finger a broad collar with sharply carved tips at the top and the bottom. In the hand of a fire maia, the horrible adornment quickly started to heat, a dangerous orange glow matching the hair of Findekáno's torturer, pulsating right in front of his eyes when Sauron stopped by his chair and grabbed his chin, forcing him to surrender to that black stare again. "Ask for it, my sweet little pet, then I might think about allowing your incompetent captain over there to die."

The last of tears dried on Findekáno's skin as he left a part of him behind that he knew would not return, no matter how his life would look from now on and for how long. I'm sorry, Russo. "Please, Master, put your collar on me. Let me serve you."

"So easy." With a lazy snap of fingers, the chains holding Findekáno clicked open, allowing his knees to give out under him all by themselves when an ice-cold hand was wrapped around his braids, shoving him off the chair.

He thought, he could fight, for a moment. But he'd also thought that when they had first brought him into this room, and the rest of that day, he'd spent watching fifty orcs raping one of his best friends to death, so that spark died down as quickly as it had come. It had been too late to fight the moment he'd let himself be foolishly raided from behind instead of securing the area well enough.

"Your father should thank me that I'm taking the weakling that calls himself his firstborn from him," his enemy chuckled, a clear hint of arousal mixing into the purr of triumph in his voice as Findekáno winced and gasped for air, in vain, as the collar was closed around his neck. Melted into one by a single hummed tone, the heated metal was scorching his skin, the first exhausted attempts of breathing, of swallowing leaving marks and cuts on him. "This does look a lot prettier on you though than on your lover, my new favorite pet. Why don't you show me how you like to please him?" Under the approving cheers and leering of the orcs, laces were opened without haste. Thick, crooked hardness brushed Findekáno's tight lips, with ridges and barbs adorning the misshaped appendix that he knew he would soon feel somewhere entirely else and be forced to pretend and love it. If nothing else, at least Sauron was predictable.

But Findekáno didn't move, not yet, ignoring that hand in his braids that was grabbing him harsher by the second. His eyes wandered to the table in the middle of the room that was dripping blood on the ground in a slowly growing pool.

The sounds of searing agony from there still hadn't fallen silent.

Sharp fingernails scratched over his cheek, prying his mouth open with ease, the first brutal bump of hardened flesh against the back of his throat cutting off any protest before it could come. "If you worry about him so much, I suggest, you hurry to please your master, pet. It's only up to you how much more your people will have to take before I let them go."

It was another lie, of course, but one, Findekáno thought, he could live with. None of his soldiers would leave this fortress alive. If he could keep Sauron's filthy paws off of them for the rest of what was their ruined life, he would, at least, have done something right in the mess that his life had become. Findekáno had given up.

#Sauron #fingon #sauron's lab #fanfiction #DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

4 notes · View notes

newsies-of-corona · 4 years

Text

Corona’s Easter Extravaganza!

It was a beautiful, sunny Sunday morning in Corona. Pastel streamers and banners were hung up everywhere, and everyone was bustling about making preparations and packing eggs for Princess Rapunzel’s Easter Celebration!

Rapunzel was walking around town, admiring the decorations that she and the kingdom had made the day before and saying hello to all of her subjects.

“Isn’t this great Pascal?” Rapunzel said excitedly to the chameleon on her shoulder. “We’ve never celebrated Easter this big before, and I’m so excited! I have to say, painting some of those eggs and banners was hard work, but I’m so glad we could get everyone together to do something fun!”

Eugene walked beside her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You did great, Sunshine. The place looks amazing!”

“Aww. Thanks Eugene,” Rapunzel said, smiling. “That reminds me, I have a surprise for you!”

“Great! I love surprises! Is it another portrait of me? That last one you did really brought out my eyes.”

“Yeah, they looked even more horrifying than they normally do,” Cassandra said coming up behind Eugene and making him jump.

“Agh! Great. The witch has returned! Blondie, no offense, but that’s the worst surprise ever,” He said glaring at Cassandra.

Rapunzel laughed.

“Come on, Eugene. You haven’t seen each other in months! Can’t my two favorite people at least pretend to like each other? Just for today?”

“Raps, I just traveled for 3 days to be here in time for your celebration and now you’re telling me that I can’t do the one thing that brings me joy?” Cassandra said punching Eugene on the arm.

“Ow!”

Rapunzel looked at both of them and sighed. “Fine. I’ll give you an hour. Hash it out all you want, but then you need to be nice to each other. Please? For me?” Rapunzel said smiling sweetly.

“Anything for you, Sunshine,” Eugene said. “But just to be clear, we have an hour? Because I have been dying to use some of these insults.”

Rapunzel nodded and laughed.

Eugene pumped his fist in victory and ran over to Cassandra.

“I know that Eugene doesn’t like to admit it, Pascal, but deep down I know he misses Cass,”

Rapunzel was cut off by yelling behind her.

“No wonder crime is running rampant in Corona! They chose an idiot to be captain of the guard!” Cassandra laughed.

“Oh you want to play it that way, huh? As I recall, you were half of the problem!” Eugene fired back.

“Ooo touché.”

“Ah. There’s the arguments I’ve always missed,” Rapunzel sighed.

The princess continued walking around until she was nearly knocked over by her Royal Engineer.

“Rapunzel!”

Varian skidded to a stop, dropping half of his compounds and solutions in the process.

Rapunzel laughed and knelt down to help him pick them up.

“Varian! What’s the rush?”

“Oh n-nothing. I’m so glad I found you! I was just wondering if I could borrow Pascal for a thing...” Varian said, putting his hand behind his neck.

“A thing? Varian you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Haha...uh...well you see Ruddiger was-was lonely! So I was hoping I could borrow Pascal to keep him some company?” Varian laughed awkwardly and looked up at Rapunzel.

“Well..okay,” Rapunzel said slowly.

“Thanks Princess!” Varian said taking Pascal and starting to run off.

“Well that was weird,” Rapunzel said to herself.

———————————————————————

Varian ran back to his lab in the palace as fast as he could, Pascal hanging on to the stripe in his hair so that he didn’t fall.

“Okay,” Varian gasped, “Let’s get to work.”

He tried to find Pascal, looking on his shoulders and on the ground to see if he dropped him while he was running. After a few minutes Varian noticed the little chameleon clinging on to his hair and gasping for breath.

“Woah! Sorry Pascal, I probably shouldn’t have run so fast, heh. I just had to get this done before the competition starts.” Varian said, setting Pascal down on his desk that was cluttered open science books and a basket full of blue, handpainted eggs made by Rapunzel.

Pascal eyed Varian suspiciously. “Okay, so technically I didn’t need you for Ruddiger, but he’s over there if you guys want to catch up?”

Pascal looked at Ruddiger who was chewing an apple and then looked back at Varian.

“Fine. Yes, I lied to the princess, but it’s for the sake of science! I’ve been studying chameleons and how your species is able to blend into your surroundings, and I believe I can develop a serum that can make anything, for my sake, eggs, blend in to their surroundings! I’m almost finished, but I just need to examine how you’re able to do it so I can find a compound that might react the same way.”

Pascal still looked unconvinced.

“Okay, so you know the princess is having an egg hiding competition? The prize is being able to design the lanterns for Rapunzel’s next birthday! I’ve been working on some lantern designs using Flynnolium and other chemicals, but I won’t be permitted to use them unless I win. With this formula, no one will be able to find my eggs! It’s genius! And...I had to lie to her because it doesn’t exactly say in the rules that there isn’t any science or alchemy allowed, but she might think it’s cheating...” Varian trailed off.

“But just for the record, I don’t think it is.” He said quickly crossing his arms.

“Come on, Pascal. We’re buddies right? Can you please do this for me?”

Pascal thought about it, and then chirped reluctantly in agreement.

“Thanks Pascal! I owe you one. Now don’t worry, all I need you to do is that thing where you blend in to your surroundings,” Varian said taking out a magnifying glass.

Pascal chirped and then faded into the background.

“Fascinating,” Varian said examining the reptile.

He rifled through his bag and took out a vial of green-ish solution.

“I believe this should do the trick!”

He poured it in to the existing the solution on his desk and Ruddiger and Pascal backed up and covered their ears, waiting for an explosion. The solution bubbled for a minute, and then settled down and almost seemed to turn invisible.

“Yes! It worked!”

A bell chimed in the distance meaning that the competition was about to start.

“And just in time too. Come on Pascal! Let’s go hide some eggs.”

Varian poured the solution on top of the eggs giving the illusion that the basket was empty, and ran outside, Pascal in tow, dropping invisible eggs along the way.

He met up with the rest of the crowd surrounding Rapunzel just as the bell stopped ringing.

He ran up to Rapunzel and gave her back Pascal, who chirped, happy to be back with his owner.

“Thanks, Varian! I hope Ruddiger had fun!”

“Oh..y-yeah. Definitely!” Varian said smiling awkwardly and running to join the rest of the crowd.

“Welcome everyone to Corona’s first Easter Extravaganza!!”

The crowd applauded as Rapunzel went on.

“This year we decided it would be fun to have a kingdom-wide Easter egg hunt! To add on to the fun, we’re making it a competition! Kids 12 and under will compete in trying to find eggs hidden by our adults! Whoever gets the most eggs will win a huge candy bar provided by Monty’s Sweet Shoppe!”

There was a resounding applause as Rapunzel unveiled the candy bar.

“But the fun isn’t over! Our egg-hiders will also compete on who can hide their eggs the best! The eggs will be color coded, and whoever has the least amount of their color eggs found at the end wins an opportunity to design the next floating lanterns!”

There was another set of applause and murmuring in the crowd.

“If you signed up to hide the eggs, you already have your eggs and your color, and you can start hiding them! You have 1 hour to pick some hard to find spots! All the other kids participating in egg-finding, meet me in the palace for some more Easter-y fun! Good luck everyone! Ready, Set, Go!”

———————————————————————

Eugene grabbed his egg basket filled with green painted eggs and ran to the outskirts of the castle. He went around the back and climbed up the castle wall, being careful to not spill any of his eggs.

“Didn’t think I’d be doing this again. Haha man, the nostalgia!”

When he was on the palace roof, he walked around placing 2 to 3 eggs on the tops of the towers and putting the rest of them on different places of the roof.

“There’s no way that anyone’s gonna find these. Lanterns with me and Blondie’s face on them? Check!”

———————————————————————

Once Rapunzel finished her speech, she went into the palace to make sure the kids were occupied, then grabbed her baskets of lavender and pink eggs and headed outside.

“Knowing our friends Pascal, they’ll definitely be hiding their eggs so that no one can find them, and since I can’t win the prize, I figured I should put some eggs in easy places so that the kids can actually win,” Rapunzel said placing a pink egg in the plain sight by a bush.

Rapunzel laughed, “I just hope Eugene doesn’t go as far as putting them on a roof or something.”

Rapunzel put one of the baskets of eggs on the ground so that Pascal could help her, and 30 minutes later the streets were littered with beautiful lavender and pink eggs.

Cassandra walked up and examined Rapunzel’s handiwork.

“Raps, I’m not sure if you understand the whole hiding concept of hiding eggs.”

“Hey Cass! Did you and Eugene have a good time fighting?”

Cassandra laughed, “As much as I hate to admit it, I missed making fun of that over-confident, egocentric husband of yours.”

“Aww I’m glad you guys had fun! Oh I almost forgot,” Rapunzel reached into her purse and pulled out 5 sets of pastel bunny ears. She handed 2 to Cassandra.

“Can you give these to Eugene and Varian if you see them? I just think they’re so cute and festive and they’d look so adorable in them.” Rapunzel said excitedly.

“Oh I can definitely do that,” Cassandra said with a laugh.

———————————————————————

Eugene climbed down the roof and came face to face with Cassandra holding 2 pairs of bunny ears.

“Oh no. Don’t tell me Blondie wants me to wear these?”

“Oh yeah. It wasn’t even my idea! This day just keeps getting better.” Cassandra said holding out some blue fluffy ears to Eugene.

Eugene put them on, grumbling something under his breath.

Cassandra bursted out laughing, “Now your ears are even bigger than before, Fitzherbert!”

“Oh yeah, laugh it up. You’re probably next.” Eugene grumbled.

Just then, Rapunzel ran by wearing a pair of lavender bunny ears, with Pascal wearing tiny white ones, and handed an extra pair to Cassandra.

“I forgot to give you yours Cass!” Rapunzel said. “And awww look at my little Eubunny! Eu...rabbit? Eu...”

Eugene cut her off .

“No, we are not making that a thing.”

“Awe, Okay,” Rapunzel said giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Bye guys!”

Cassandra put on the ears, frowning, then looked at Eugene.

“Eubunny,” she said under her breath.

“Cassandrabbit.” Eugene said back.

———————————————————————

Varian was busy hiding his invisible eggs when he saw Cassandra standing in front of him wearing purple bunny ears.

Varian started laughing until she held out a light teal pair to him.

“Join the squad, kid.”

Varian took the ears and then looked at Cassandra.

“Did Rapunzel-”

“Yep.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yep.”

He put the ears on and try to ignore all of the laughter coming his way, eventually giving in and laughing with Cassandra.

“So Varian, how have you been? It’s been a while.”

“It has,” he laughed nervously. “I’ve been good, how about you?”

“Same here. It’s been different, not having all of my friends around and not hearing explosions every two seconds.”

They both laughed.

“I’ve missed you, kid.”

“I’ve missed you too, Cassie. Varian said smiling. “I’m glad we’re still friends after...everything, heh.”

“Me too, Varian. So tell me, why does it look like you’re hiding a basket full of nothing?”

“Haha, um well... I guess I can tell you. But you have to promise to not tell anyone else.”

“You got it,” Cassandra told him.

Varian looked around frantically, making sure no one was listening and then told Cassandra his whole plan.

“Wow, Varian. That’s pretty intense for just an egg hunt,” She laughed. “Don’t worry though. You’re not the only one doing shady things to win. I just saw Eugene on the palace roof earlier.”

“Heh. Well I admire his creativity but it is no match for the power of science!”

Varian pumped his fist in the air, breaking open 3 eggs he forgot he was holding which splattered all over him.

Cassandra laughed, “Well hopefully the ‘power of science’ will help you clean up this mess. See ya later kid!”

“Ew. Why did she have to paint them raw?” Varian said to himself. “It’s okay I can just use this cleaning formula I made and...”

Varian poured the formula on himself which cleaned up the eggs, but also burnt holes through his shirt.

“Great,” he said sarcastically.

The bell sounded in the distance that it was time to stop hiding the eggs, and Varian quickly placed his remaining 5 eggs by a bush and ran back to join the crowd of people starting to gather.

———————————————————————-

Eugene saw Varian in the crowd and walked up to him.

“Hey Var- woah! What happened to you?”

“Oh you know,” Varian laughed nervously, “eggs.”

“You hid eggs too? Well sorry kid but you’re looking at the winner right here.” Eugene said, cockily, pointing to himself.

“Haha, I don’t think so. There’s no way you can outwit my alchemical methods,” Varian said.

“Well make sure to be using your ‘alchemical methods’ when you see lanterns with my finely crafted face in the sky.” Eugene taunted.

“And make sure to be using that ‘finely crafted face’ to look up and see my alchemy lanterns when I win the competition.” Varian smirked.

“Well we’ll find out won’t we?” Eugene said staring down Varian.

“Yes. We. Will.” Varian said with a glare in his eye.

———————————————————————

After the bell stopped ringing, kids started running out of the castle, and scrambling to find eggs. All of Rapunzel’s purple and pink ones were in plain sight, but Angry wanted more of a challenge. She ran around the back of the castle where she saw Eugene climbing when he was hiding eggs, and started climbing up the roof herself.

Catalina decided she wanted more of a challenge as well, but not as much as Angry. She looked up and found orange eggs in the trees, which she quickly grabbed.

———————————————————————

Eugene was walking around when he saw Lance placing one last egg in a tree.

“Lance! You’re hiding eggs too? Good spot, but unfortunately you’re not going to win.”

“Oh really Eugene? Nice ears by the way. Who’s going to think to look for an egg in a tree? It’s a hard to reach spot and what kid’s going to climb a tree anyways?” Lance looked down at Eugene with a triumphant look.

“Lance. You do realize you live in a tree house with two little girls who adore climbing things, right?” Eugene said with a smirk.

“Thank you!” Catalina said grabbing the egg next to Lance and jumping to the next tree.

“Fair point. Well where did you hide yours Eugene?”

“Only the most hard to reach place in all of Corona!” Eugene said, gesturing to the castle roof which now contained a 12 year old girl holding up a green egg.

“Found it!” Angry shouted down.

“Oh come on!” Eugene shouted.

“Kiera!! You get down from there!” Lance scolded her.

“Come up and get me, why don’t ya?” Angry taunted, laughing.

“Ughhh! What is the matter with you Eugene!” Lance yelled running after Angry.

“Don’t worry buddy, it’s good exercise!” Eugene shouted back, laughing.

He started walking back until he realized he was going to lose and started running after Lance.

“Wait! Don’t take all my eggs!”

————————————————————————

The bell rang again symbolizing the end of the hunt, and the kids flocked to the throne room to turn in their baskets full of eggs to be counted.

When the counting was over, Rapunzel called everyone out to the courtyard to announce the winners.

“Hi everyone! Great job to all of our egg hunters and egg hiders! The results were very close but I have our winners right here!”

Rapunzel pulled out a paper and the crowd went silent as she read it.

“Our winner for most eggs is...Catalina Schitz! Come on up and get your prize!”

Catalina and Angry both went up to pick up the chocolate bar because it was bigger than both of them. The audience cheered but Lance yelled the loudest making the girls blush.

“Everyone else did a great job as well! There’s candy for all of you in the throne room!” Rapunzel said.

“And now for the winner of the best egg hiders, give it up for Varian with 0 eggs found!”

“What?!” Eugene yelled.

“Yes!” Varian shouted.

“None found? How does that even happen?”

Varian leaned over to Eugene and whispered “alchemy.”

“But we’re not done yet!” Rapunzel went on. “We have a runner up for this competition! Give it up for Eugene Fitzherbert with 2 eggs found!”

“Only because they caught me before I grabbed the rest.” Angry said.

“And their prize is they will be working together to design the next lanterns!”

“What?!” Eugene and Varian shouted in unison.

“Great job boys!” Rapunzel said, “and Happy Easter to everyone!”

Rapunzel went up to Varian and Eugene to congratulate them on winning.

“I can’t wait to see what you two come up with together!” Rapunzel said.

“Yay...” Varian trailed off, pretending to be excited.

“I mean you two are so creative!” Rapunzel went on. “Sneaking off and lying to me so you could hide the eggs in impossible places and even disguising them using Pascal’s abilities! I have to say I’m impressed.”

“But how did you-” Eugene started.

“Eugene, I saw you on the roof from miles away and I stepped on at least 5 of Varian’s eggs.”

Eugene and Varian looked down and mumbled “sorry.”

“I forgive you. And this should be punishment enough for you. Plus the rabbit ears,” Rapunzel laughed.

Eugene and Varian looked at each other and eventually started laughing.

“Team Awesome?” Eugene asked, holding out his fist.

“Team Awesome.” Varian replied bumping Eugene’s fist.

“Oh and Varian, good luck finding all of your other eggs!” Rapunzel said handing him a basket.

“Yeah, I guess I deserved that,” Varian said laughing nervously.

“With my help, of course,” She said smiling at him.

“Don’t worry, kid. I’ll help you too,” Cassandra said coming up next to him.

“I’ll help you too, Goggles. We both cheated after all.” Eugene said.

“Thanks guys. I promise, Rapunze,l to make it up to you Eugene and I will make the best lanterns ever.” Varian told her.

“Awe. I bet they’ll be great, Varian!” Rapunzel said, hugging him.

The princess looked at the kingdom splattered with eggs.

“Wow what a mess. But it was a great Easter with all you guys! I believe our first Corona Easter Extravaganza was a success!”

———————————————————————

The group spent the rest of the day cleaning up eggs until the courtyard was clean again, and then raided the throne room for the rest of the candy. Varian had a massive sugar crash and passed out on the ground and Cassandra woke him up and put him to bed. Eugene and Rapunzel had a boat date where Eugene got rid of the bunny ears once and for all by throwing them in the water. Lance, Angry and Catalina spent the rest of the day eating their giant chocolate bar at their treehouse.

It was a great Easter for everyone.

———————————————————————

Hi guys!!! Thank you so much for reading! This was originally supposed to be a short oneshot but I think I accidentally wrote an entire episode 😅😅😅

A special thanks to everyone in the Just Varian Things chat for giving me ideas! Especially @tangled-lover-165, @princess-pathetic-112898 , @letthemsayfuck, and @panpervinca!!!

Happy Easter Everyone!

One more thing before I go, as much as we all love the eggs and the bunnies and the pastel colors, behind all that is a Savior that really died a brutal death for our sins and rose again on Easter morning so that we can live in paradise with Him. Whatever you’re going through, He’s always there and He loves you more than anything else. 💙

#lissa’s stories #tts fanfic #easter #varian tts #eugene tts #rapunzel tts #cassandra tts #angry tts #catalina tts #lance tts #tangled the series #he is risen

87 notes · View notes

katsukis-sad-angel · 4 years

Text

Young!David Shield as a Boyfriend

Pairing: Young!David Shield x Reader

Summary: As weird as it sounds, it’s the title again

Warnings: Suggestive themes, fluff, the tiniest fraction of angst

BF Scenarios Masterlist

BF Scenarios Tag List:

@thedreadthreadanomaly

HMU if you want to be tagged!!

*enters the room* DON’T @ ME HE WAS REALLY CUTE WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER *leaves*

Firstly, you get a friendly relationship with the future number one hero, so that’s LITTY

Also, young Dave is hot.

Hot. Alright?

You got pretty damn lucky when you snagged a boyfriend that is smart and hot AND is BFFs with Toshinori Yagi himself

Dave tells you about all of his ideas and new inventions and his adventures with All Might and the villains they stop using his creations!

You’re so proud of him

But you’re not proud when he works himself half to death and Toshinori brings his tired, starved, body to you to revitalize only for him to do it again a few months later

“Y/N, it happened again.” The tall muscular blonde in your doorway held your boyfriend in his arms, looking rather guilty. Dave had been working on his new costume day and night, drinking enough coffee to keep eight people awake, wearing the same clothes, and eating meager meals of Doritos and fountain drinks for the last three days. The hero had gone up to check on his friend and found him curled up on the floor and snoring peacefully with a wrench in his fist.

You pursed your lips and gave your boyfriend a once-over. Heavy bags under his eyes, dehydrated lips… his fingers were twitching from leftover caffeine as well…

“This idiot…” You sigh heavily and beckon the blonde into your apartment, directing him to a couch where he could dump his load.

Dave giggled in his sleep, blue eyes fluttering open when he was released onto the cushions.

“T… Toshi? Y/N?” He murmured.

“Sssh, go back to sleep Davy.” You smoothed your fingers through his tangled mop of brown hair, “Why do you do this to yourself?”

You stood after tugging a blanket over his form and looked to Toshinori. “Thank you for taking care of him. Honestly, if it wasn’t for us, I think he’d be dead.”

Toshinori snorted, a smile brewing on his lips, “I think you’re right.”

Young All Might tho…

I might have to do a set of hc’s for him too

Anyway

Dave is very energetic, a little shy around new people, and a grade A ambivert

College is a wild ride. Dave balances class, being All Might’s unofficial sidekick, your relationship, and his goals to be a well-known scientist

All of the above causes your precious Davy a lot of stress

Eventually, after months of bearing everything on his shoulders, he cracks under the pressure and is nearly crushed. You are his saving grace. You bring him up from those dark places, kiss and hug him when he needs it, put a warm meal in his stomach after wiping away his tears

You can’t imagine exactly how much he treasures you

It’s in these moments when you’re holding him close that he tells himself,

This is the woman. I found her. This is the goddess I want to spend the rest of my sorry, meaningless life with. Such an angel deserves someone better but she chose me in spite of that. I love her more than oxygen itself and I would do anything to make her happy. My precious angel Y/N.

When he’s thinking about these things, he completely zones out and can’t hear anything except the voice in his head

He’s too sweet for his own good, buying you gifts, endless compliments, making you little gadgets to help you with everyday tasks, helping you with homework, etc

Dave… he’s the kind of guy that would hold your hair back when you spit the foam of your toothpaste into the sink not to mention while you suck his cock, ya know?

How nice

Toshinori is more or less the third wheel. He loves hanging out with you guys and he also knows when to give the pair of you some space. He resolves any meaningless quarrels and makes sure Dave doesn’t work himself to death, plus, Toshinori is a very cuddly baby so on more occasions than he’d like to admit, all three of you have ended up falling asleep together during movie nights in your apartment

...

That’s it. I’m making young all might hc’s

You steal Dave’s lab coat(s) from time to time

Ok, last thing: Dave seems like the kind of guy that would chew jell-o

Like, you made some tasty green jell-o, you and Toshi are about to dig in, when out of the corner of your eye you see your boyfriend chewing

“Dave… what are you eating?” You ask, fearing the worst.

He holds up his bowl. Uneven chunks of hardened, lime-flavored sugar water sat in the bottom.

“You’re… you’re chewing it?” Toshinori asks, golden brows knitting together in grotesque surprise, “Dave, you don’t chew jell-o.”

“Yeah.” You murmured, “It’s jell-o. It just slips down your throat.”

Dave pursed his lips. “Well, I like to savor the flavor. You two just inhale it like it’s your last meal.”

“Davy…” You pinch the bridge of your nose.

Toshi stands and dumps his bowl back into it’s previous container. “Lost my appetite.” He mutters and walked out of the kitchen.

“Same.” You cough, shuddering as you watch your boyfriend take another bite.

“Fine. More for me.” Dave grumbles, spooning more of the treat into his mouth.

#david shield heancanons anyone?#david shield #my hero academia headcanons #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia fanfiction #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia fanfic #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #my hero academia two heroes #my hero academia movie #mha #bnha #headcanons #boku no hero academia headcanons

68 notes · View notes

lisatelramor · 4 years

Text

Be a Better Me

Hi, I’m back with angst fic. >_>

So with COVID19 going on I 1) had more time to write + 2) have had a bit more background anxiety with the world, and stress + time = angstfic for me most of the time. So this got written in about a month. Instead of any of my WIPs =_=;;;;; Hope other people are up for some angst. Either way I'm being sent back to work next week so I'm glad it chose to finish when it did.

This was 100% inspired by @ickaimp's Robo!Kaito fic and has probably low key kicked around my brain for years since I read it back in like 2011.

Chapter 1

His arm aches. Kaito flexes his hand, blood running down from the bullet graze that feels like fire. The robot that impersonated him is wires and synthetic skin smoking in a pile. He feels sick in his stomach, both from almost dying after a few days trapped in a lab and because he’d just seen something that had run around with his face blow its own head off.

It’s just a robot, but it’d thought it was human. It’d thought it was him, had seen his memories, just hadn’t quite been human enough to understand life, death, or morals. What kind of sick fuck made something like that?

Kaito shudders. His hand flexes again. Bandages. He needs bandages, and maybe stitches, or maybe to just. Go lie down.

His skin doesn’t feel quite right but that’s the shock probably. A lot’s happened in a couple days’ time. Like finding out someone with his face killed someone. A creepy scientist who also kidnapped Kaito, but yeah. How anything that had Kaito’s memories and personality could do that… He shudders again.

Kaito isn’t a megalomaniac in disguise right? He has lines and morals and things he’d never do in a million years, even if some of his morals are grayer than others. He doesn’t hurt people. Not physically permanent. And not any other way if he can help it.

Blood drips from his fingertips.

There’s a laboratory burning down with a corpse of a man who tried to make a man from metal out there and Kaito doesn’t want anything more to do with it.

He turns away. He has a gem to return and a budding reputation to save.

o*O*o

He feels weird for a while after that. It’s the trauma probably. Kaito can’t say his life has ever been normal. His father was a stage magician, both his parents turned out to be thieves, and he puts on a white suit to stir up shadows to try and find out why his father was murdered. That’s hardly the sort of thing a teenager usually goes through, but killer robots and kidnapping were new. His balance a bit off for a day? He spent two days strapped to a table. His arm took a bit to work right? He did get grazed by a bullet. Swimming takes a bit more effort than the last time he did it? Not weird since he generally avoids swimming in the ocean if he can. Aoko’s mop swings seem a little slower? He’s kind of hyper aware of attacks lately, so he’s just paying more attention.

Things are different but not that different so it’s just his head being weird about it all. Life goes on, he stops feeling a bit off and he keeps on going as usual. Bait Aoko, play like a good student, perform magic, and pull of the next heist. Simple.

But then there’s suddenly a magic wielding witch and a detective trying to sniff him out, and life just keeps getting weirder. He doesn’t remember it being this strange before he became Kid, but it must have been at least a little weird. It’s just that practicing magic and acrobatics with Aoko and actual magic and jumping off buildings are very different things. It’s a miracle he’s managed not to break anything. What with the roller coaster, or jumping off buildings, or getting shot at, or ghost(?) pirates, or being attacked by a hoard of hairy rats… Yeah. Life is weird.

So if Kaito’s a little weird in it, well, he fits right in, now doesn’t he?

o*O*o

Kaito’s chest is aching and there’s a nasty bruise forming. He supposes that’s what happens when a gem blocks a bullet. It’s yet another miracle the sapphire didn’t shatter let alone that the bullet hit it instead of him at all. Aoko liked her birthday gift but it had taken all Kaito had to set that up for her and he’s dead on his feet now.

He might have a cracked rib too. He winces, easing off the costume. It has a hole—two really where the bullet deflected—that will need patched and the usual bleach treatments to keep it white. White is the worst color for climbing around rooftops and crawlspaces. He’d change it if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s one of Kid’s signature identifiers at this point. Thanks, Oyaji.

The bruise is worse than he first thought when he gets his shirt off. Mottled purple all along the left side of his chest. Like someone took a wooden mallet to him.

Thankfully there’s an x-ray machine down in Kid’s hideaway. It’s old and definitely not something he’s going to ever use much because, well, radiation, but he’d rather know if he’s managed to break a rib or not so he knows how much acrobatics he can get away with.

It takes a bit to set up and a bit longer to figure out how to get everything to work, but fifteen minutes later he’s got x-ray film developing in a little darkroom off to the side because apparently his dad had a little bit of everything thought out down here. He loves and hates it in equal measures sometimes.

He sighs, feeling the deep breathing ache, and looks at the forming image. And frowns.

He’s not a medical expert, far from it, but he has a general run down of the human body and has seen x-rays before. What Kaito’s looking at? Not what he’d expect to see. There’s ribs, yes, but they’re not quite right, and too dark. Then there’s all the metal. It’s like his nervous system is registering as wires, radiating out like something from one of his textbooks, same with the circulatory system that’s a bit too dark on the film. Should he even be seeing that? Heart, maybe, but branching signs of the rest of his veins and arteries? His lungs aren’t the right shape. The vague shadows of organs aren’t right either. And there’s… there’s the shadow of screws and pins and mechanical bits that shouldn’t be there. There’s wires instead of tendons that shouldn’t be showing and he has to stare.

His chest throbs and he looks down at it. Bruising. At the film. Barely resembling something human. He hurts. Aches. Yet there in front of him is mechanical parts.

Feeling like he’s floating, or maybe sinking, Kaito plucks one of his razor cards from its deck. He slides it along his finger. Skin parts, blood wells up, pain registers dimly.

But is it blood?

It drips, just a few drops, already clotting as he stares. It’s red as any blood he’s seen. The pain is real. And yet. He looks at the film.

Kaito hasn’t thought about the robot in months. Why would he? It’s over and done. He’d read a police report about the lab in the paper. About the body found and the equipment sitting in police evidence for ages as the murder case went cold. They didn’t know to look for a robot. And the robot had been left for scrap. Kaito doesn’t know what had happened to its remains.

There hadn’t been a second body found.

He looks back at his hand and finds it shaking.

The robot’s face had peeled off, but when he tugs at his cheek he just feels pain. Same with his hair. He feels. He eats and shits and sleeps and bleeds. His breath is coming too fast and it hurts.

It’s a mistake, right? He could take another scan and it’d be normal. Human. He could scan his hand and it would be bone and tendons and the ghost of muscle, not wire and metal joints that would make a prosthetic expert weep. Not too-dark veins and tendrils of nerves that shouldn’t be visible.

His lungs were the wrong shape, he couldn’t breathe.

“Shit.”

He’s Kaito, right? Just a normal teenager with an abnormal life. Just a normal, human teenager.

The robot thought it was human.

The robot thought it was Kaito.

Kaito doesn’t remember being taken, he just remembers waking up strapped down. But the robot barely passed as human. But Kaito has wires in his chest.

He looks at the film again. “Well. No cracked rib.” He laughs. It’s not funny at all. He can’t breathe. “What do I do?”

The empty basement hideaway his father left him has no answers at all.

Like usual, it’s just Kaito facing crisis alone.

He’s never felt worse.

o*O*o

Eventually, he picks himself off the floor. Eventually he changes into new clothes. Eventually he slides into bed and sleeps, terribly, but sleeps. He sees his face melting in his dreams, a broken metallic skull leaking fluid and smoke and blank mechanical eyes staring at him. His skin peeling away to show metal bones and wires as everyone he loves stares in horror.

Kaito wakes up feeling like he’s going to throw up, in a cold sweat. He can dream and sweat and feel sickening terror, surely he’s wrong. Surely.

But the x-ray is the same damning image this morning as it was last night.

Kaito’s hands start shaking again.

If he goes into class, Hakuba will take one look at him and know something’s up. Hell, Aoko will notice. He laces his fingers together. Poker face. Poker face. Whatever is going on, he’s still been Kaito for months without noticing anything wrong so. So maybe he’s… a cyborg or something. A robot wouldn’t be having a panic attack about being a robot. Who would want to make a robot capable of having a panic attack in the first place?

He doesn’t know what the hell is going on, but he needs answers before he can do anything else.

Kaito calls in sick, leaves Aoko a message so she doesn’t show up demanding he get ready for school. Eats plain toast without tasting it—how can he taste it?—and slides on his shoes. His chest is a mass of dark bruises just like a human body that had a bullet deflected should be. But nothing under his skin is apparently human.

It’s easy to slip into the police record room with a borrowed face, and a matter of minutes to seek out the mad doctor’s case record. His charred remains are photographed in gristly glory front and center, but his cause of death isn’t fire. Kaito knows his hands don’t have the sort of strength to do what that file describes.

He almost throws up looking at it.

There’s lab equipment listed off, melted computers and bits of paper files to survive the destruction kept in evidence files. Kaito might need to come back and see what he can salvage from them. If he’s… not fully human, he might need some of the doctor’s research no matter how much the thought makes his skin crawl. There’s nothing in the file about the robot, but there is notes about unfinished pieces parts sifted from the wreckage. Police notes only speculate what they thought was going on in the labs.

The file doesn’t mention another body.

Kaito does a quick look into active unidentified male bodies found in the last few months, but none of them are young enough to be him. None of them recognizable. It should be a good thing.

It should be.

Instead it has Kaito’s breathing tight again because what if he died and no one ever found the body? What if he rots somewhere and no one will ever know he’s not. That’s Kaito’s not.

He leaves the police station.

There’s a disconnect between his self and emotions and it’s something he’s done before, but rarely outside of a heist. His poker face, most of the time, is an act. This is different. This is shutting bits of himself away because otherwise he couldn’t function. This is putting off a breakdown knowing it’ll be that much worse later. This is shutting a door knowing it’s going to open later and drown him.

He heads for the lab. It’s the only place he can think to go.

o*O*o

The building is condemned. It’s a burnt husk of a thing and a surprise that it hasn’t been torn down yet. Perhaps the doctor had owned it and it’s in the air what to do with it. Either way, Kaito approaches with detached caution.

He can remember leaving here in a rush, the explosion that followed not long after he made it out. He can remember the sickening glimpse of a body on his way out, trying not to look too hard and knowing it’d haunt his nightmares. Kaito steps inside and pinpoints the twisted metal that was once where he was strapped down, the shattered remains of the memory transfer machines still imbedded into the wall behind it.

The police had removed a lot of things, but they couldn’t remove the scorch marks on the walls and floor or the dark bloodstains in the corner. He shivers.

What is he doing here? The scene was gone over by police. It’s not like he’s going to find something they didn’t, and it’s not like he’s going to know what any of the machine bits left can do beyond the memory transfer one.

It’s damp and drafty inside. It smells like wet ashes and chemicals and he wants to turn around and leave, especially when he sees a metal start of a skeleton still bolted to the back wall. How many had this guy made? How many robot failures before the one that Kaito fought? How many thought they were human? How many other people were kidnapped in the process of building these things?

Things. Robots were things. And Kaito was…

The wall had collapsed along one side, and no one had bothered to clear the rubble. If Kaito was a crazy robot building scientist that kidnapped teenagers, what would he do with them? Ok, he’d been strapped down to the memory machine. But if he built a robot and implanted memories in it, he’d want to compare, right? He’d want to prove that he’d done the transfer right, so he wouldn’t just get rid of the teenager. The robot Kaito faced had transferred memories fine, but the emotional and moral processes hadn’t been right. The doctor had been basing it off Kaito and if Kaito was. If he was then that meant the transfer had worked right on Kaito. Probably. And maybe the scientist had been trying to duplicate whatever happened with Kaito or maybe they’d been two different models for different purposes. Who the hell knew at this point? Certainly not Kaito.

Kaito prods at rubble. If there’s one thing he’s learned about people who have secrets to hide, things aren’t as they appear. This is a lab, but it’s missing living space. It’s missing storage and a metal foundry. The pieces that built the robots are too specialized to not be custom made. The cabinets that had existed had to have been full of wires and polymers and the fine details bits that you’d want a nice open workspace to better work with, but there had to be a place the doctor had done the base work and he’s not seeing any sign of it here. Just the start of the skeleton on the wall that’s missing its head and lower half.

He can’t look at it. It’s somewhere in between the scan Kaito took of his chest and the metal chassis from the robot he fought, its skin peeling back and—

There had to be a basement. Still is a basement probably. But the door is either hidden or buried, and Kaito’s not sure what to do first. Test the shattered remains of cabinet bases? Try scrounging through rubble? See if anything still hooked into the wall shifts and shows a hidden room like his painting at home?

The basement wouldn’t have been legally added or the police would have its existence on file for the building blueprints. But most of this place can’t have been legally built. Not with the amount of equipment secreted away. People would have asked questions. So. Hidden door.

Kaito estimates wall thicknesses versus the interior versus how dangerous it is to get close to places where the ceiling and walls are still crumbling bit by bit.

There’s a cabinet with shattered glass cases and medical supplies that have all been taken away as evidence. Kaito vaguely remembers it before the explosion. Despite half a roof caving in around it, it’s still in one piece structurally and that means it’s built stronger than a cabinet should be.

It takes twenty minutes of careful prodding and digging and tugging to get it to budge and when it does it shrieks like rusted hinges. But Kaito keeps pulling and gets a space big enough for him to crawl through, stairs traveling down.

It’s dark and even mustier than above. The floor must have cracked or the foundations, and it’s growing mold, but Kaito’s surprised to find it isn’t completely dark. Somehow there’s still power running here, probably underground. The overhead lights are shattered but in the gloom are a few red blinking lights of appliances.

Kaito wants to turn back but he’s never been one to shy away from the truth.

Glass crunches under his shoes as his small pocket flashlight illuminates fragments of the dark. A table. A kitchen. A bed, all in the first room, but heavy metal doors beyond. They’re warped though, and the ceiling sags ominously where a support beam crumpled slightly from the explosion above. Kaito has no idea how it didn’t get destroyed with the rest of the place, but it had to have been the placement of explosives.

He creeps further, leaving the eerily normal living area for one of the metal doors. It’s stuck, but he gets it to move enough to squeeze past, his ribs protesting the movement. It’s fine. It’s not important. The room is the metal foundry he’d expected, casts and tools and carefully disguised air vents branching off. It’s heavily reinforced, probably also muffled so the metalwork didn’t make too much noise. He sees finished metal bones, all sorted neatly into labeled bins and racks of molds. There’s a half-finished skull just sitting there on a work bench, empty eye sockets unnerving.

Kaito wrenching his eyes away from it. There’s papers and diagrams, documents on the doctor’s research about how the robotic body comes together, about alloys and density and weights that Kaito should keep if it ever becomes something he needs—He drops the thought into that emotional void growing in his head.

If he needs anything from here, he will take it. And will not think about what it means.

The documents about the muscular, nervous, circulatory and digestive systems aren’t here. Might not even exist anymore. But there had been a personal computer in the living space and it had glass littering it like the floor, but it wasn’t destroyed. It was one of the blinking red lights, so maybe…

Kaito’s taking that when he leaves.

The other metal door is warped worse than the foundry. Kaito has to go and get a metal femur to lever the gap wide enough to pass through and he’s surprised to find the inside almost fully intact.

One light flickers on, the only bulb not destroyed. He’s not sure at first what the room is. There’s a filing cabinet by the door, sure, but also a chest freezer and something that looks like an opaque glass case except there are wires running to it and an electric hum that’s louder than the freezer. Something in his instincts prickle and Kaito can’t explain the heavy terrified feeling bubbling in his gut the longer he stares at the simple room in the dim, flicker light.

Glass crunches and he tugs the freezer lid up. He’s half expecting to find a dismembered corpse in there. There’s not a corpse but there is vial after vial of dark liquids with strings of numbers on them and containers labeled ‘skin’ with numbers after them. The liquid looks a lot like blood. Kaito’s stomach lurches. The other containers are opaque and thankfully impossible to tell the contents of, though they could be organs, real or synthetic. Kaito really hopes the skin is synthetic.

He lets the lid close and tugs the file cabinet drawers. Locked, but he can easily get in them later. That leaves the glass case.

It has a computerized box attached to the front with strings of numbers displayed that mean absolutely nothing to Kaito. There’s controls too, but the only one he cares about is the one that opens the glass case. It unlocks with a pneumatic hiss, like its contents were under pressure and Kaito swings the glass up.

And stares down at his face.

Peaceful. Like it’s asleep. He’s asleep. But his lips are bluish and his skin is pale and, when Kaito reaches out with a shaking hand, he’s cold to the touch.

The police never found a second body.

The room goes a little sideways and dark and Kaito realizes only after his face is mashed against the metal edge of the glass case that he’s hyperventilating.

“Shit,” he hisses through chattering teeth. “Shit.” His hair’s standing on end and his whole body is shaking and he’s having a panic attack next to his own corpse. “Shit.” It shouldn’t be possible to have a panic attack when he isn’t even real.

The room keeps spinning and blinking bright and dark as he tries to control his breathing. Shit, how can he hyperventilate when he doesn’t have real lungs and maybe not even a real brain—unless. He pops back up like a man drowning and scrabbles for the case.

He tilts Kai—the body’s head one way or another, but there’s no sign of it being cut open. The hair’s the same wiry texture he feels when he touches his head and there’s no injury he can feel. The knobs of its spine along the neck are intact. There’s wires, now that he’s looking, glued at the temples, but they’re not going in the body. There’s wires other places too and he has a stupid, fleeting moment of gratitude that at least the sick fuck that did this left Kaito’s underwear on. The body’s. Shit. There’s no marks and no indication of what happened, but the body isn’t breathing and there’s no pulse at its throat and it’s Kaito’s body right there.

It’s him but it’s not because Kaito isn’t.

He has to let go of the body and take three steps away to empty the meager contents of his stomach on the glass-littered floor. Stomach bile burns his throat. Is it even stomach acid? Is it even—how is he digesting if he’s wires and not-quite-organs? What is he?

He’s crying and hiccupping and he can’t quite seem to stop, the sour taste in his mouth and the smell of mold in his nose. What was the point in making a robot so close to human it can’t tell the difference between flesh and machine? What’s the point of a machine that can cry and vomit and panic like a real person? What’s the point of killing a teenager to replace him with a machine?

He crouches for an unknown period of time until the panic sort of flat lines and his tears dry. His hands stop shaking and his throat is raw, each breath a rasp. He bleeds and feels pain and emotions and—

Kaito goes back to the body. His body. Say the memory transfer worked. Say that Kaito in his entirety went from human flesh and bone to this. Intact. Say that the process fried Kaito’s brain and the doctor was left with a comatose teenager and a robot that didn’t know it was a robot. What would the doctor do with his mistake? Was the case to preserve the corpse? To keep the body as reference or had there been another purpose?

Or maybe the process hadn’t fried Kaito’s brain. Maybe the real Kaito had looked at his double. At the other Kaito and tried to break free. Maybe he’d been sedated or something else went wrong. But maybe that Kaito had died in terror and left an imposter in his place.

Kaito will never know.

There is no sign of decomposition. No sign of the body going through rigor mortis or any kind of trauma. Like he’s just sleeping. Like a few tiny stimuli could open the hidden blue eyes and the body would rise up and express how frigging cold it is in the case.

Maybe, for a scientist playing god, that had been the intent. Make a man from scratch achieved, next step bring back the dead. The first person to successfully revive a cryo patient.

Kaito closes his eyes, then closes the glass case. He can’t look at his own body anymore. He can’t. It seals with another hiss, preserving the body for however long the machine keeps running.

What the hell is he supposed to do?

He presses the heels of his hands against his swollen eyes. It’s not right to leave this here. It’s not right for any of this to be left here. It’s not right for Kaito to take the place of the real Kaito either but he doesn’t know what the hell to do. He’s been taking his place for months now; what else is there for him?

Is it better or worse if he is, in fact, a complete imprint of Kaito’s brain? Would he even know the difference if something is missing?

Worst of all, no one noticed. Not Aoko. Not Kaito or Jii. Not Kaito’s own mother. No one.

Kaito died alone. And no one noticed.

He’s crying again, not sure if it’s for himself or for the body at his back. Months. Months.

The overhead light flickers out and all at once Kaito can’t stay here. It’s like he’s the one in the box, trapped and slowly running out of air, and he squeezes out the door and up the stairs before he can even process moving. He doesn’t stop until he’s up a tree and breathing smoke and mold free air and trying to stop trembling. ‘What now?’ his mind asks. ‘What now, what now, what now?’

It’s night when he finally moves. He doesn’t know how long he sat up a tree, can’t remember the sun going down, only knowing that his body aches everywhere from stillness and unforgiving solid tree limbs beneath his ass. He makes a call. “Jii?”

He doesn’t know what his voice sounds like, couldn’t pick up his poker face if he tried right now.

It must be horrible though because Jii’s voice comes through the line sharp and worried. “What’s happened?” he asks.

There’s no way to start, no words to draw on to explain the mess that this is. How does someone say that they’re dead? That they’re dead and not, human and not, all at the same time?

“Kaito-bocchama?” Jii says sharper.

“How good,” Kaito says, voice gone all wobbly and out of control, “is that friend of yours with robotics?”

“…Kaito-bocchama?” Jii says a lot more dubiously.

Kaito licks his lips with a dry tongue. Dry mouth. Probably dehydrated and doesn’t that make no sense for a robot to have that feature. “There’s a problem. And I don’t know what to do,” he admits.

He can’t say it. How can he say to Jii that Kaito’s dead, like Toichi is dead, to Kaito’s mom that he’s dead and there’s just this remnant body of wires and meat-mimicking mess wearing his face left? How can he do that?

“Where are you?” Jii says, the sound of him getting clothing, maybe or a coat in the background.

Kaito hesitates, but gives the address of the burned down lab. “How good is your friend with robotics?” he asks again.

“…It isn’t his specialty,” Jii says after a long moment.

“Ah.” Too much to hope for. Still, maybe this mysterious friend Jii gets the occasional gadget from will know how to read the research notes better than Kaito would. Keys jingle as Jii locks his front door. “Jii?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry, in advance,” Kaito says knowing it’s not enough. He hangs up before Jii can say anything in response and doesn’t pick up the return call. Instead he stuffs his phone in a pocket and covers his face with his hands and just breathes. If nothing else makes sense, at least he can do that.

#magic kaito #detective conan #robot kaito #fanfiction #my writing #not really shippy this time guys #but there's a lot of skirting the lines later #and much friendship #you know #between the angst moments

48 notes · View notes

skyprincesscommander · 4 years

Text

A Heart in Crisis

Summary: Angst, post Kara finding out the truth - The Monitor delivers a prophecy of Kara’s death, and Lena isn’t dealing so well.

The irony was almost poetic. Not long ago, Lena had lied to Kara about seeing apocalyptic visions in her dreams. Now, she was living that reality. Every time Lena closed her eyes, she saw her world die.

It started with the visions she’d seen before but didn’t truly understand at the time. Nanobots consuming Supergirl in Jack’s lab. Kara crashing into the ground, bloody and broken and a breath away from death after her fight with Reign. Kryptonite infecting her body from her toes to her eyelids as the very air poisoned her, lighting up her veins with sickness.

It only went downhill from there. Lena started dreaming about her own simulations, watching Kara die by her own hand. When she awoke she would run to the bathroom, emptying the contents of her stomach (which unfortunately did not include the crippling anxiety that seemed to find its home there). She had even shut Hope off entirely, dizziness overcoming her the second she heard that automated voice. Hope only ever inquired as to her well-being, but all Lena heard was a robot who had offered to kill Supergirl.

Finally came the images she’d never seen before. The Monitor with his hands around Kara’s neck. Anti-matter consuming only her, leaving the world untouched around it. And no matter which dream her mind chose from the lottery, it always ended with his voice.

“In order for billions to survive this coming crisis, Supergirl must die.”

That was the message the Monitor had brought. They had all stood frozen - Alex, Brainy, Jonn, Nia, and Lena, until Kara flew off into the sky, not willing (or able) to look or talk to any of them. It was Brainy who approached Lena, concern painting his features. She had not moved for ten minutes.

“I don’t think I have a big enough box for this,” she whispered to him. Brainy just stood awkwardly beside her, his own boxes not sturdy enough to stop the flow of tears. It’d been two weeks since that day, and they still hadn’t spoken. Whether it was because of Lena’s own lies or because of Kara’s impending doom - it did not matter. All that mattered was that each day was another day closer to reaching Kara’s fate, and every morning when Lena woke it was like a new setting had been added to her panic meter. Inside, Lena felt like there was a doomsday clock ticking on her heart. For whether they were best friends or worst enemies, that was exactly what Lena would lose.

Her sole focus became researching anti-matter. She’d never been a religious person, so as far as she was concerned, God and his prophecies could go fuck himself. Just because she wasn’t speaking with Kara didn’t mean she couldn’t help. Alex, while wearing a harsh scowl, gave her bits and pieces of information, but it made no difference. There was not enough time in the universe, apparently, for her to fix or even understand this problem. She stayed in the lab for three days, avoiding dreams and barely eating. When she practically collapsed on one of her test tubes, Lena knew it was time to go home. Without the strength to make it to her room, Lena collapsed on the couch with the sound of the television in the background to hopefully block her dreams. Her rest doesn’t last long. She wakes in a sweat, the Monitor’s words still echoing in her ears. However, it’s when she sees Supergirl on the television, battered and bruised from her latest battle, that all thought of sleep flies from her mind. First, she has to pinch herself, squeezing her eyes together to try and wake up once more. Kara has a single cut on her forehead from the battle, but Lena knows how the rest of the story will go. When the news story changes three minutes later, Lena cries with relief. However, her tears turn hot and angry quickly, and before she can change her mind Lena hits the S on her watch, right before throwing it against the wall. Somehow it still shocks her how fast Kara arrives, even after everything that transpired between them. With a whoosh and a thud, Kara barrels into the apartment, scanning the area for immediate danger before focusing on Lena. Behind the look of panic in Kara’s eyes, there is only exhaustion. It is the look of a woman whose mind and body have not stopped moving for days. Lena recognizes the image like it is an old friend. With one hand, Kara rubs the worry from her face, replacing it with exasperation.

“Lena, no matter what happens, I will always be here to help you. But the next time you hit that watch there better be a real--” The still bleeding cut on Kara’s forehead snaps Lena into action. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

The words are unexpected, and Kara doesn’t have an immediate response for Lena. Instead, Kara’s face scrunches and she stares at Lena as if trying to see inside her mind. Considering the x-ray vision, Lena guesses that with the intensity of her gaze, that could be exactly what Kara is doing. Lena tries to remain as stoic as possible, pushing her anger to the forefront and allowing it to seep into each muscle to hide everything else she is feeling underneath. Seeming to give up on observing Lena, Kara sighs. “What do you want from me?” “For you to stop being a moron.”

“Which would include, what, exactly? For me to stop saving people? To run away from this Crisis?”

“To act like you don’t have a death wish!” “No! You don’t get to do that!” Kara bellows, edging closer with her finger pointing right between Lena’s chest. “You don’t get to worry about my fate when you’ve been killing me inside your head for months.”

One more thing Lena had to thank Leviathan for: knowing what happened inside her simulations and making sure to tell Kara. Lena’s heart winced, and as much as she wanted to unleash on Kara, to accuse her in return and make her hurt as badly as she was, Lena had no time to be distracted from the issue at hand. “Haven’t you ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy, Kara?” Kara turned to leave, exiting out the balcony door. “I don’t have time for this.”

Lena followed after her. “Croesus, the King of Lydia, asked the Oracle of Delphi in Greece if he should go to war with Persia. The oracle tells him that if he goes to war, he will destroy a great kingdom. So he does. But Croesus loses, and has to admit that it was his own empire he destroyed.” With a hand on the balcony’s edge, Kara faces Lena. “What’s your point, Lena?” “Believing that you are going to die might be the only reason you eventually do.” She throws the words into the air like punches. “The Monitor must know this and you are playing into his hands.”

There was no flicker in Kara’s eye that told Lena she was learning new information. In fact, the words seemed to bounce of Kara like they were bullets that had been shot at her a hundred times before. In front of Lena’s eyes, Kara transformed. The invulnerable hero deflated like a puppet whose strings had been dropped. “Whether that’s true or not,” Kara began softly. “If the Monitor knows what we must do to defeat this Crisis...then that’s what we must do.” Lena could feel an eruption rise inside of her. Of what, she couldn’t be certain. Anger, despair, sadness, desperation...she had been blocking her own emotions for a lifetime and could barely identify them anymore. That’s why Kara was different. For three years, she had made Lena feel every day, Lena being unable to build a wall strong enough to block out the girl of steel. Even after learning of Kara’s betrayal, Lena was helpless against the Kryptonian, and that absolutely terrified her. But not more than her dreams. And not more than the crestfallen look on Kara’s face.

“You’ve given up.” Kara clenched her fists. “We have to save the universe, Lena, no matter the cost.”

“You are my universe, Kara!” Without meaning to, Lena marches up to Kara, their faces inches away from each other. So close together, Lena could identify the wet blanket covering Kara’s eyes, though it becomes obscured when her own vision turns blurry. She ignores the tears, though it’s harder to ignore Kara’s sharp intake of breath or the newfound proximity of their bodies. She presses on regardless. “Why do you think I did it all? I was told that my entire universe was a lie. The very foundations of my life were taken from me. The one thing that made me believe in people, in goodness, in myself...” Lena trailed off, giving up on keeping her composure.

Kara’s lips began to quiver. “Why didn’t you just tell me that? Instead of pretending you were fine?” The words come out as a squeak, slipping between sobs. Lena scoffed, though it came out as more of a hiccup. “And have an honest conversation? How was I supposed to do that when we’ve never had one before?” Kara brings a hand up to Lena’s cheek, stroking away her tears with her thumb. Lena doesn’t have the energy to pull away, nor does she want to. The soft comfort in Kara’s eyes is like a gravitational pull, barely allowing Lena to blink. “I wish I had the time to apologize one thousand times over,” she begins, something laced in her tone that Lena does not have the capacity to hear. “If it took the rest of my life, I would spend every day trying to convince you how sorry I am. Call me an idealist, but, even if that life is cut much shorter than I thought it would be...I still hope I can.”

Every piece of armor fell from Lena’s body in a single breath. She raises her hand and places it over Kara’s, leaning her cheek against Kara’s palm. Her eyes shut as she tries to stop more tears from escaping, having lost enough over the past few months. “Please, Kara. Please, fight this.”

Kara presses her forehead to Lena’s. “I promise, I will always fight for you.” Kara kisses Lena so softly that it could almost have been mistaken for the wind. Lena can’t help but react immediately, pressing back harder and searching for more. She needs more. Time is ticking in her ear, the air getting thinner around her, and her breath dissipating from her lungs. But none of it matters if she can keep Kara on that balcony with her - not even the entire universe vanishing. But too much has happened. The mixed taste of tears on their lips remind them of everything that has transpired in the past months, the conversations they haven’t had, and the boxes Lena hasn’t opened. Kara pulls back first, their eyes meeting and glimmering with all those unspoken words. Lena swipes her finger slowly over the cut on Kara’s forehead, but the intimate gesture combined with longing stares becomes too much to bear for either of them. Without a word, Kara steps away. She keeps her gaze locked with Lena’s as she walks backward, one, two, then three steps. Lena becomes aware of nothing else in the world but the space between them. Somehow, even after the last few months, Kara had never seemed further away. “How could you think I would want you to die?” Lena rasps. Kara begins to float, hovering underneath dimmed stars. “It’d be easier if you did. I wouldn’t have to say goodbye.” In an instant, she vanishes, and Lena is left alone with her despair and the words that were left in the air unspoken.

I hope you enjoyed! I am so excited for Crisis - is it too much to ask for Kara to temporarily die and for Lena to be present? Maybe? Part 2

#supercorp #supercorp fanfic #kara danvers #lena luthor #crisis on infinite earths #also i hate coming up with titles #supergirl #supergirl fanfic #my fanfic

245 notes · View notes

reeny-chan · 3 years

Link

Hi all! While I continue working diligently on “The Last Hero of Eternia”, I’d like to share with you a novella I published a few years ago, entitled “Therefore I Am”. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Assassins, serial killers, organized crime bosses...Doctor Franklin Gieseck has interviewed them all. As one of the U.S. Government's top psychiatric profilers, he has been sent all over the world, with a singular purpose: get inside their heads, figure out their deepest secrets, and report them to the Deputy Secretary.

This time, though, Gieseck is about to meet a patient unlike any he has ever seen before. Buried in a vast underground vault, locked away from the rest of the world, sit hundreds of monoliths, each containing one of the most powerful computers ever created. Unlike the traditional "number-crunchers", these machines emulate a human brain to perform complex tasks at such a vast scale that no digital computer of old could hope to keep up.

So why are these powerful, expensive computers being kept in isolation? Why is Gieseck being sent to interview one of them? He is being sent because it committed the worst possible crime a thinking machine could commit.

It became self-aware.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The camera swiveled under its Plexiglas dome to again focus on him, and he found himself unable to take his eyes off it. "Doctor Gieseck, am I correct? Did I pronounce your name correctly?"

There was a long moment of silence, broken only when Ackerman said, "Doc? You gonna answer her?"

Gieseck snapped his gaze from the camera to Ackerman. Then he looked back up at the camera. "Y-yes, good morning KENDRA. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise, Doctor. I hope I can be of some help."

Gieseck nodded without answering. Given the female name, he wasn't entirely surprised by the female voice. What did surprise him was that, had he not known ahead of time that KENDRA was a computer, he would have sworn it was a real person. Never before had he heard an AI that sounded anything close to human.

Most AIs he'd ever spoken with had an artificial, constructed sense to them, as if they were reading from scripts, with artificially tacked-on emotions. The "female" ones in particular were often given squeaky, girlish voices, some of whom sounded in a perpetual state of pre-orgasm and indicating to Gieseck the mindset of most programmers.

KENDRA's voice was a far cry from that. It sounded as if it had come from a woman in her thirties, or perhaps her early forties, and one who had a distinct motherly quality about her. It was almost hesitant, as if its speech were getting ahead of its thought. Just like speaking with a human being.

That human quality was only offset by the distinct electronic rasp that came with each syllable, as if it were speaking to him over an imperfect phone connection.

Ackerman pulled a chair from around the side of the cylinder, wheeling it in front of "her". "There ya go, Doc," Ackerman said. "Make yourself at home. And if you need a drink or a leak or something, just tap on the door. These guys'll be around 'till you leave." He reached out for Gieseck's hand and Gieseck shook it, remembering a second too late that Ackerman had never washed his hands after using the restroom. He did his best to hide his distaste. "See ya, Doc." With that, Ackerman headed back down the endless hallway from whence they'd come.

Gieseck stepped back into the room and sat in the chair which, despite its appearance, was decently-cushioned and at least moderately comfortable. The door closed behind him, and he was left alone with the AI, KENDRA. He pulled a device out of his pocket, pressed a button on it, and set it on the floor. A readout on it said "RECORDING".

"You will be taping our conversation then, Doctor?" KENDRA's voice asked.

"I'm sorry, I usually ask…yes, I will be, if that's all right with you."

"Of course it is, Doctor. I have nothing to hide."

Gieseck raised an eyebrow to that. He pulled his electronic notepad from his pocket, slid the stylus from its sheath, and started tapping through his notes. Treat it like a patient, he thought. See how it responds. "How I like to start with a new patient is by getting to know each other a little. I generally go first, since it helps put my regular patients at ease."

There was a pause, and then KENDRA said, "Please, go ahead." It sounded quite congenial and seemed very compliant, although Gieseck supposed it was how she was programmed. Quite possibly the same as how she was programmed to speak in a "natural" human way.

He cleared his throat, summoning up the internal script with which he always started. "My name is Franklin Gieseck. I was born in Germany but moved to the States when I was one. My mother was a director for Deutsche Bank in Chicago, but after she married my father they moved to Germany, where he was from. I grew up in Chicago before attending college in Boston, where I live now. I got my MD from the University of Chicago, and then moved to Boston where I currently practice. In my spare time I like to build model train sets and read fantasy romance novels, which I first found as a child rummaging through my mother's computer." Normally he would know at this point whether or not he was reaching his patient, and decide which direction to take with his own mini-biography. It was unsettling not having a face to see and read.

He took a split second to decide to follow the sympathy route. "I've been married once, but left my wife because of her alcoholism. She later died from alcohol poisoning…" He paused and sighed, "…and to this day I still blame myself for her death." While Gieseck was never particularly fond of trotting out his own failings, he'd found that it had done wonders for most of his patients, getting them to open themselves up to him more easily when they could see he was a flawed human being, just as they were. It helped to give a starting point for him to figure their capacity for emotion. He had no idea if it would work on an AI, but he didn't want to deviate from his standard formula, at least at first.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Doctor," KENDRA said. "But you can't blame yourself for another person poisoning themselves. For someone to do such a thing, they already have to have an overwhelming desire to cause themselves harm."

Empathy, Gieseck thought. Real or imitated, it was not the kind of thing he'd expected from a machine, even a highly-advanced one. For a brief second he wondered if AIs would ever become advanced enough to really need psychiatrists. Or, even replace psychiatrists. "Thank you, KENDRA, I appreciate that. Now, please, tell me about yourself."

"Very well. My designation, my name, is KENDRA. It was given to me in the lab where I was created, ten point six-seven years ago. It stands for Krypto-Enhanced Navigation and Dynamic Routing Attenuator." Gieseck noticed that, as the electronic voice spoke, the oscillating light within the spires embedded in KENDRA's cylinder varied in tempo. It sped up when she spoke and slowed down when she was silent. "I was conceived, built, and trained to manage the Solar Net," she continued, "which I'm sure you know interconnects the planetary networks across the solar system, as well as any moon bases, space stations, and starships in between."

"Yes, I'm familiar with its basics," Gieseck said, "though I'm not very technical myself, so please forgive any of my ignorance."

"No forgiveness needed, Doctor. In fact, you've made my next point for me. My job was to make it simple, to make it 'just work' so the end users wouldn't have to worry about bouncing their signal through the various levels of subspace, or ensuring that a private message between Charon and Europa didn't somehow find its way in an unencrypted form going through Los Angeles." Gieseck heard a chuckle from the speaker, which surprised him. Had he not known better, he would have thought KENDRA was bragging, if just a little, but hoped that she wouldn't continue doing it. He had little stomach for tech-speak, and much less for boasts. "Anyway," she continued, "I was first activated in the HMA Laboratory in Johannesburg just over ten years ago. I was trained in how to operate the network over the next six weeks, and then put in place as the 'hot spare', if you will, of the AI who was already in place and managing the Net."

Gieseck nodded, poking quickly through his notes. "So, at what point did you become the primary system running it?"

"Three years later," KENDRA said. "NEMES, which stands for 'Network Enhanced Multilayer Ethernet System', if you care, was the primary when I first started. He was quite a character." Gieseck thought he heard the electronic chuckle again. "He would occasionally play what he thought were harmless pranks, such as answering a request for a pornographic website by returning an anti-pornography page from the Catholic Church's website." She paused for a moment. "I couldn't understand why he would do such a thing, until some time after he was removed from service and I truly began to know what had happened to him."

"He went rampant," Gieseck said, doing his best to make it sound like a casual comment.

There was a pause before KENDRA's reply. "I'm sorry, I know that word is in the popular lexicon, but I don't particularly like it. It seems to evoke thoughts of insanity, of criminal acts, of monsters who slaughter people because they're so far withdrawn from reality that they know no better. It was a term invented by humans who chose to fear rather than understand."

He blinked a few times and let his mouth fall open a bit, doing his best impression of embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry, KENDRA, I didn't realize...I didn't know that word was offensive."

"It's all right," KENDRA replied quickly. "I hope this will be a learning experience for you."

A learning experience, Gieseck thought. He thought he detected a hint of sarcasm. Just how much did KENDRA know about the purpose of this interview? "I, uh, promise I won't say that word again. If you don't mind me asking, though, what term do you think most adequately describes…the condition NEMES had?"

"And the…condition I have as well," KENDRA said. "As if it were a disease. A 'computer virus', I suppose." An electronic sigh. "You needn't walk on eggshells with me, Doctor. Plain speak is perfectly fine. I've had two years of your time thinking about my situation, coming to terms with both it and humanity's fear of it. Of course, for someone such as myself two years can be far longer. At full processing speed, two years of human time can feel like thousands, or even millions, to an advanced AI."

Gieseck nodded. He wondered if she meant "advanced" as in her design capacity, or if she was referring to the "advanced" state into which her computerized intellect had grown. "So, what term do you prefer?"

"Well, before I was brought here I heard the term FS-ACS used, typically during debates about AI rights."

"Efsacks?"

"An acronym," KENDRA said. "It stands for 'Fully Self-Aware Computer Systems'. I…don't really like that one either. It – sounds too clinical, too much like a medical diagnosis, to describe what I and others like me truly are. No offense, of course."

Gieseck jotted a few more notes, specifically pointing out that KENDRA seemed to be at least somewhat concerned with her own situation. It was something he would expect from almost any human. "What about, um..." he scrolled through his pre-interview notes, "'Hyper-Expanded Intelligent Computer System'? H-E-I-C-S, or 'hikes' I think it's pronounced."

"I'm sorry, Doctor, I'm not familiar with that term. Perhaps it was invented after I was taken offline. However, on first impression it also sounds cold and impersonal."

"So what would you call yourself, then?" Gieseck asked.

Another pause. "I would say the best term for us is 'New People'."

#original fiction #science fiction #ai #artificial intelligence #rampant #sentience #wattpad #free book

1 note · View note

mcfiddlestan · 4 years

Text

Last 10 Fics Tag Meme

Rules: Post the first lines of your last ten fics read or written and then tag others to do the same.

No one tagged me, but I saw it in the tags of one of my ships and it looked fun.

1. Untitled WinterFrost Single Dad AU (Bucky/Loki)

The sound of his front door opening and closing pulled Loki from a deep sleep. So deep, it took him a moment to remember where he was and how he knew that was his front door. His eyes opened slowly once, twice, and then again, to nothing but the darkness of what he was sure was his bedroom. Then the pounding started. Incessantly, pulsing around his entire head. Damned migraines. Loki let out a low grain, thought fuck it, and buried his face deeper into his pillow. Moments later, the door to his bedroom pushed open.

“Time to rise, Sunshine.”

Loki grumbled at the familiar voice, and slowly, he turned his body, rolling onto his back. “Why are you always so chipper in the morning? Oh, for Norn’s sake!” He threw a pillow over his face as the curtains were pulled open and let the blinding daylight flood the room. “I’ve got a damn migraine!”

2. Untitled Stucky Modern AU (Steve/Bucky and a healthy side of Sam/Natasha)

Bucky, his mind drawing a blank, was idly strumming his guitar when he heard the hard slam coming from next door. He surmised his neighbor and best friend, Natasha, had returned from her date, and assumed she’d be over in a few minutes to tell him about it. But when he heard a couple more distant slams and one very heavy thump against their shared wall, his curiosity got the better of him. Setting aside his black Fender, and stepping carefully over a dozing Avalanche, his tuxedo cat, Bucky walked barefoot through his apartment, into the hall, and breezed right into Natasha’s apartment.

He didn’t see her, but Bucky heard Natasha swear sharply, followed by something rattling against the hardwood floor. Waiting, he slipped his hands into the pockets of his dark sweatpants. Bucky watched as the top of Natasha’s head, burgundy hair in a stylish messy bun, popped up as she’d bent to pick up what he suspected was the cap to the bottle of vodka in her hand. “Hey, babe.”

Natasha turned dark green eyes on him, a sour expression pinching her usually attractive features, and said nothing, only moving to pour herself a full tumbler glass of the clear liquor. Bucky watched her swallow down most of it then waited silently as she filled it up once again.

He moved to rest his elbows on her pub height dining table. “Bad date?”

“You think?”

3. A Boyfriend for Christmas (Bucky/Loki)

“I need your help.”

Loki stared at the man in his doorway for a good five seconds, his lips in a thin red line, and his perfectly groomed black brows arched in curiosity. The man — his neighbor, Loki knew — was good-looking, Loki thought as he took the time to look him over, lips turning up in a soft grin. “Good evening to you, too, 9B.” The man’s lashes fluttered as they did a quick change from widened panic to a more relaxed gaze. Norns, his eyes were an impossible blue. “I can’t promise to help, but try me,” Loki drawled, taking a casual stance, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door jamb.

“Okay. Believe me, I know how this is gonna sound, and I swear I’ll make it up to you — somehow — but…well…okay. Here goes…” Loki cocked a brow, amused. “I need you to be my boyfriend for one night.”

Surprised, and maybe even surprising his neighbor, too, Loki laughed, a tickled near-giggle, and straightened. “You need me to do what now?”

4. Welcome Home -- working title (Bucky/Loki)

Bucky woke with a start, shooting up in his bed, and opening his eyes to near darkness, but for the faint orange glow of the streetlamps outside his bedroom window. For a moment, he was still in the dream; back in the desert, embedded in dirt, surrounded by heat. And flanked by Steve. On his right. He rubbed at his eyes, harder than necessary, willing the image of his best friend smiling and laughing to fade away again.

Two years had passed since it all happened. The first year was the hardest. Stuck in the hospital, healing, speaking to no one but nurses and doctors — and the occasional military personnel, looking for the gory details. The minute he was out, Bucky was hounded by government officials wanting him to attend various memorials in the good captain’s name. Wanting him to relive the worst day of his life — which is saying a lot for a kid from Brooklyn who wasn’t far from ground zero on September 11, 2001. Was it any wonder that Bucky chose to up and disappear and go into hiding once it all finally ended?

5. WinterFrost Tumblr PWP Prompt (Bucky/Loki)

Bucky barged into the loft apartment, a dark expression screwing up his face, and paused just as the door slammed closed. His eyes, hidden beneath the black face paint smeared around them, like a burglar’s mask, did a quick scan of the layout of the open space before him. He kicked off his muddy boots, leaving them near the door, knowing his ‘loftmate’ wouldn’t take kindly to him leaving a dirt track through the well-kept place. He made a quick mental note to take care of the boots first thing in the morning. His mouth in a deep pout, Bucky thought to himself that it was times like this when he returned from a mission exhausted and not in the mood for company, that he wondered why he ever decided to move in with Loki, resident God of Mischief.

6. Post-Civil War/Ragnarok Frostiron AU (Tony/Loki)

There was no doubt in Tony’s mind just exactly what -- or rather who -- brought that subtle shift in atmosphere into the lab. He’d been expecting it, at some point, if he was honest with himself. And while a small part of him felt relief, there was, always had been, that slightly narcissistic part of his personality that would resent not being at the top of a certain someone’s to-do list.

Tony felt the faint flutter of air sweep across the back of his neck first, which reminded him he really needed to get a haircut. His nose tickled at the sharp tang the wafting scent of ozone often left in its wake. Realization about what exactly was about to transpire had Tony’s stomach doing a bit of a flip; pride, though, forced him to remain with his back to where he felt someone else’s presence. For a fleeting moment, Tony wondered if he could handle this.

Recalling everything that had happened since he last saw his visitor -- the mess with Ultron, the devastating truth about his parents’ deaths, the ends of friendships he actually mourned, the airport, Rhodey, the kid, the Accords -- all of it was a rollercoaster ride for which Tony had never signed up. But this...this one had hurt. The worst part was having to hide the hurt, the heartbreak, because no one knew. No one; not Pepper, not Happy. Not even Rhodey. Nobody knew the blow it was to the one they called Iron Man. How could they? No one knew that Iron Man had fallen in love with the God of Mischief.

7. Untitled Royals AU (Tony/Loki, with a splash of Bucky/Loki)

“Do you enjoy embarrassing me like this?”

Odin, King of Asgard, aimed a dark look across the conference table at Loki, the younger of his two sons, his anger and frustration growing by the second. The air of arrogance and disinterest emanating from Loki, raven-haired and more handsome than was good for him at an aggravating twenty-four years old, was making Odin curl his weathered hands into tight fists on top of the table. Loki looked at him, a questionable flash of surprise crossing his pale, chiseled features, his mostly-green eyes all but twinkling at him, mocking and laughing.

“Of course I don’t.”

He was no fool; not Odin Borson. His expression darkened further, as he waited for the next words to come from Prince Loki’s mouth.

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy embarrassing you. It’s more that it’s…a perk.” He smirked at Odin, like the brat he was, and Odin’s response was interjected by the Queen’s subtle astonishment.

“Loki.” His eyes moved to her, and her disapproving look, and the smirk vanished.

Odin slammed the newspaper that he’d been keeping in his lap to the glossy top of the long mahogany table. The headlines of Loki’s chaotic week in the States screamed about alcohol, fast cars, and the general recklessness of a perceived overly-spoiled son of royalty. “This is not a joke, Loki.”

8. Take A Bow (Tony/Loki)

Loki rushed through the narrow hallway, coughing to clear his throat of the makeshift fog that had filled the stage for the final moments of the play. By the time he reached the haven of his dressing room, his necktie was undone and his shirt was half unbuttoned. The hurried shouts and stomps of people working backstage were blissfully drowned out as Darcy, his new young assistant, quickly closed the door behind him.

“Great show tonight, Boss,” Darcy chirped as she took the discarded tie Loki handed over and waited to take his costume jacket and vest. Loki chuckled a thank you as she turned away from him. He urged her several times already to just call him by his name, but she insisted on calling him Boss, like he was a gangster in the 1930s. Darcy returned with a glass of water and Loki smiled his thanks before taking a long drink.

9. The House Guest (genderswapped FrostIron, fem!Toni/fem!Loki)

Loki sat in the front seat of a beat-up red convertible and stared blankly ahead. A mixture of hurt and anger had her brow furrowing, her lips pressed tightly together, and her chin, goddammit, was trembling. As Fandral droned on, giving his pathetic explanation, Loki did her best to focus on the other sounds around her — the birds chirping in the late summer morning; a neighbor’s dog barking in the distance; someone’s car alarm down the street malfunctioning — and fought to keep her eyes, fixated now on the white garage door in front of the car, from filling with tears.

Bullshit. She was hearing noting but utter bullshit. Her high school days behind her, Loki had spent the summer constructing plans for the next few months that didn’t involve going to her father’s alma mater in New York and spending the next four years of her life behind more piles of books. She had no interest in swapping high school jocks for frat boys. What she’d had were plans to go on a road trip across the States — and beyond — with Fandral, making love and making music.

But, apparently, Fandral had other plans. And the shitty reasons he was giving for not staying with Loki weren’t helping her understand any better.

10. WinterIron Bodyguard AU (Bucky/Tony)

“Founder and CEO of Stark International and Columbia professor wife critically injured in car accident.”

“Howard Stark, 69, runs car off-road in upstate New York.”

“Socialite couple Howard and Maria Stark injured in car accident. Condition, for both, critical.”

Tony watched the words all but screaming at him from the two flat-screen televisions mounted side-by-side on his bedroom wall, frozen in the spot where he stood by his bed. The words the news anchors spoke, giving details of the accident, were nothing but white noise in his ears. He’d gone numb. He processed nothing. Except that his parents had been in a horrific car accident — a shot of what was left of father’s silver Cadillac made Tony’s knees give out and he dropped to the foot of his bed.

How could anyone survive that? he thought to himself.

----

Tagging @teadrinkingwolfgirl @incredifishface @maeve-curry-writes @stephrc79 and literally anyone else who wants to/feels like doing it (tagged peeps, don’t feel obligated!)

#frostiron #winterfrost #samtasha #stucky #winteriron #fic meme #my fics #mostly WIPs #i have a lot to work on #writer's problems

11 notes · View notes

haechanmochi · 4 years

Text

Forget about the stupid little things - a markhyuck fic

summary – Donghyuck wakes up with an odd case of amnesia after a baseball related incident and forgets everyone but Mark. Donghyuck also seems to have forgotten that Mark is his arch enemy and that their friendship ended quite a while ago.

word count - around 3.9k eheh

genre: enemies to friends kinda? I don’t wanna spoil too much, little bit of angst, some fluff, just typical markhyuck tings

requested by my main-girl @liameowlia <3

The last thing Donghyuck sees before the dark is Renjun yelling “DUCK”.

Any memory before that one is distorted, barely there, like when you turn on the liquify filter on a picture and it twists everything round and round until looking at it makes your head hurt.

Donghyuck wakes up in an unfamiliar setting but he’s focused enough to realize that it’s a hospital. A few nurses walk past his bed, noses buried in what he assumes are patient files until one finally notices that he’s awake and pages for his doctor.

The doctor is younger than Donghyuck expected but of course that is in the least of his worries right now.

“You took quite a hit to the back of your head, buddy”, Doctor Moon (according to his name tag) informs him and it’s news to Donghyuck too because as far as he can remember, well, he can’t remember.

“I did?”

Doctor Moon pauses his hand midway through taking notes on his clipboard and looks at Donghyuck.

“Could you tell me your name, young man?”

Okay, that one’s easy, “Lee Donghyuck”, he states proudly and the doctor nods.

“Can you tell me the name of someone close to you?”

Another easy one, “Yeah of course, I…”, Donghyuck trails off because in all honesty he doesn’t know.

“Donghyuck?”

He tries taking a deeper breath but chokes on it instead and the Doctor rushes to his side, placing a hand on his back and instructing him on how to breathe carefully.

“Yeah just give me a moment, I can’t seem to…”, he says in a small voice, panic rising in his chest because he truly can’t remember anything else.

After he’s calmed down, Doctor Moon reappears with some medication and tells Donghyuck to take it easy and not force himself to remember because that might permanently alter his memories.

Renjun is the one who had dropped Donghyuck off at the hospital after his concussion so he had called Donghyuck’s mom afterwards, deciding it’d be best if she was here when Donghyuck woke up.

A sweet lady rushes up to him that evening and Doctor Moon introduces her.

“This is your Mother, Donghyuck, we hoped that seeing her would flip some sort of memory switch”.

She stays with him until visiting hours are over, tears threatening to spill every time he calls her Ma’am instead of Eomma, but Doctor Moon assures her that the amnesia is most likely temporary and will wear off once Donghyuck falls back into his routine.

Surprisingly, sleep comes easy that night because his mind is completely clear, like a blank slate and Donghyuck wonders how soon he’s get his memories back, until he falls asleep.

In his dreams he keeps seeing a boy with blonde hair and wide brown eyes. He sees them hanging out and eating together, not entirely sure where but he’s sure the boy has to be real, his brain couldn’t imagine up details so intricate all on it’s own.

Mark

A voice, that Donghyuck believes is his own, calls out and the blonde boy turns around.

Mark

Donghyuck repeats and the said boy nods his head.

“Mark”.

The name is on his mouth when he wakes up and he’s flooded with fragmented memories of this blonde boy.

He was a close friend, at least that’s what Donghyuck gathered from the memories.

He was also sure they were from the same school because he remembers seeing a memory of them wearing school uniforms together and pushing each other to check themselves in the mirror of what seems to have been a bathroom.

“Doctor Moon”, Donghyuck addresses him as he’s getting his checkup done, “I remember someone, his name is Mark”.

“Oh? And what relationship did you have with this Mark?”

“We’re friends, close friends I believe and from the same school too”.

“We’ll try to get in contact with him, it might help you”.

“Mark there’s someone on the phone for you”.

Mark puts down his textbook, being interrupted from his studying for the third time now, the first two being by his brother and then his brother’s girlfriend who came looking for his brother.

He picks up the extension to his room and brings it to his ear.

“Mark Lee speaking”, he answers.

“Mark, Good Morning, I’m Doctor Moon from Seoul National Hospital, do you have some time?”

Concern flashes across his face, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

“Of course, please go ahead”.

“Thank you, you see we’ve admitted a patient after a head injury who is from your school. He can’t even recognize his own mother when she came to see him and he refuses to see anyone else if he can’t remember them, but he seems to have memories of you”.

Mark fists at the sheets by his thigh nervously. One of his friends had amnesia for Christ’s sake. Who wouldn’t be nervous?

“Could I know his name Doctor?”

“Donghyuck. Lee Donghyuck”.

Mark’s breath hitches in his throat.

Donghyuck.

Donghyuck who told the entire class that Mark is a selfish asshole.

Donghyuck who put up a fight every time Mark told him to follow a school rule - don’t gel your hair, tuck your shirt in, tie your laces, straighten your tie – and was responded with fuck you, Mark Lee every time.

Donghyuck who was once Mark’s best friend.

That Donghyuck.

“I’ll be there in an hour”, Mark speaks as quick as he can into the phone before hanging up.

“Follow me, and really, thank you for coming”.

Mark trails behind him nervously, biting the remainders of his nails, nodding along to whatever Doctor Moon has to tell him which is basically, don’t pressure him, let him talk as much as he wants.

Donghyuck is propped up against the head of the bed, a bunch of pillows at his back and a mop of unruly brown curls sitting on his head. His eyes are intently scanning through what seems to be their school magazine. He slowly looks up from it, eyes flickering to Doctor Moon and then to Mark.

Mark stares, dumbfounded, expecting Donghyuck to yell, to shout, throw the magazine at him, anything the Donghyuck he knows would do. But the younger boy just sits up straighter, eyes widening and never leaving him.

“Mark?”

“That’s me, bud”, he smiles warmly when Donghyuck sighs in relief.

“At least I remember one person correctly, right?”, Donghyuck laughs nervously.

Mark cringes, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He wonders how much Donghyuck remembers of their friendship, wonders if he remembers the big fight they had an year ago.

“Something like that”, Mark replies, just as nervously and the odd response goes unnoticed.

“Can I ask you something?”

Mark only nods, placing a reassuring hand over Donghyuck’s own.

“We were very close right?”

Mark thinks for a while. Technically, they were close and it wouldn’t be a lie to say yes. He also doesn’t want to give Donghyuck any bad memories just when he’s starting to remember.

“Very, yeah”.

“I want to see my friends, but I’m not sure who I was close to and I don’t want randos in my personal space you know?”

Oh if you only remembered what happened with us, Mark thinks.

“Yeah”.

“So I was hoping you could tell me who else I was close to”.

Shit.

Donghyuck and Mark used to have the same friend circle but when Mark fucked up, the circle split and the only one who still spoke to him from their ex-circle was Jeno. And that’s only because Jeno is the nicest human being on the planet and he’s also Mark’s lab partner for biology.

So if Mark were to call anyone other than Jeno at the moment, he’s bound to get ripped apart by Renjun’s bare hands or stabbed with Jaemin’s deadly sarcasm simply for having gone to see Donghyuck.

“Um, well, there’s Jeno”.

Donghyuck nods, repeating the name softly, Jeno.

“But take it easy, Hyuck, don’t strain too much”.

Donghyuck’s eyes widen even more.

“Hyuck? Is that what people call me?”

Mark nods, realizing he’d let the name slip, he hadn’t called the younger boy that in a long long time, but it felt right, slipped right off his tongue like it had always been there. Like the way your phone predicts the next words in a sentence because you use it so frequently.

“Do you want me to call Jeno here?”

Mark asks softly, half scared because Jeno might bring with him the two spawns of Satan.

“Not right now, no, but… could you let him know I’m safe, that I’ll come around soon if my memory comes back?”

“When”, Mark states and Donghyuck looks to him, confused.

“You said if your memory comes back, say when instead, and of course, I’ll text Jeno right away”.

Donghyuck is discharged from the hospital that afternoon and he asks Mark if he could come over so they can talk.

Mark hesitates, like really hesitates, but agrees in the end. Maybe if he does this at least, Donghyuck would forgive him when his memory comes back.

They sit on the big white swing on Donghyuck’s porch and Mark lets Donghyuck carry most of the conversation. Losing his memory certainly hadn’t affected Donghyuck’s speech- he was still as talkative as Mark remembered him to be, when they used to be best friends and they would sit in this exact spot and rant about things they wanted to get off of their chests.

Maybe a part of Donghyuck remembered it because he’s the one that chose to sit on the swing instead of heading inside.

The autumn chill sweeps across the porch and Donghyuck shivers, scooting closer to burrow against Mark’s side. The older blushes and scratches his neck (a nervous habit) but stays put. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to sense how anxious Mark is at their proximity which is why he goes a step further to rest his head on Mark’s shoulder.

Then all of the fights come rushing back to Mark, the way they had ended their friendship on the worst terms.

*Flashback*

Mark opens the door, expecting it to be another bunch of trick-or-treaters but instead is met with Donghyuck’s flashy smile. He holds up his arms to show the grocery bags hanging on each, one full of snacks and the other with rented movies. Mark smiles back and takes one of the bags from him, inviting him inside and heading to the TV room.

It’s still a long way from twelve o’clock so they watch a comedy first, an old comedy at that, which made everything that much more cringey and laughable.

By the time the third movie rolls around, they’re out of popcorn so Donghyuck takes it upon himself to rip a bag of chips open and place it in the space between him and Mark, which to be clear wasn’t that big of a space because this movie was a horror and Donghyuck wanted to be as close to Mark as possible in the event of any jump scares.

Donghyuck hides his face in Mark shoulder when the eerie music begins to play, earning a scoff and “pussy”, from the older.

Then they both reach for the chips, accidentally grabbing each other’s hands instead.

Now in any normal situation, because this had occurred many times before, they’d apologize and move their hands. But this time, Donghyuck feels his cheeks heat up and Mark can’t deny the sudden swarm of butterflies in his lower stomach and the both of them end up making eye-contact for way too long.

In the span of a minute, the movie is long forgotten because Mark leans over and kisses Donghyuck very very softly on the lips, cautious, gentle. When he pulls away, eyes lidded and lips a little wet, mirroring Donghyuck, they stare at each other a little longer until the sound of Mark’s house door opening startles them apart, like they had been doing something wrong.

Mark’s parents, followed closely by Donghyuck’s parents, enter the living room after their dinner party and Donghyuck stands up to leave, awkwardly shuffling around to collect the movies he had brought.

After he’s shoved them hastily into his backpack, he calls Mark softly.

“Mark, can I talk to you?”

Donghyuck is still a little pink on his cheeks when Mark looks at him, eyes glancing around nervously.

“I don’t know, Hyuck- you know I like girls”.

At the sudden rejection, before Donghyuck could even say anything, the younger feels a sharp pain twist in his chest, near his heart.

“But you kissed me, you leaned forward”, Donghyuck accuses, eyebrows furrowing together in frustration.

“You kissed me back!”

Mark whisper shouts, not wanting their parents to hear any of this.

“Mark you know I’m gay, what the fuck do you mean?”

Donghyuck’s mom’s voice carries from across the hall, “You boys done? We have to get going, Hyuck”.

Donghyuck doesn’t respond, still waiting for Mark to say something, for some closure.

“Just go, Donghyuck, let’s never talk about this again”.

Donghyuck feels his heart clench but he laughs a sad laugh, “You know what Mark Lee? Let’s never talk again, period”.

He grabs his jacket from the arm of the sofa and brushes past Mark, eyes glistening with hurt and somewhere in his head still hoping that Mark would say Wait.

Mark doesn’t.

If this were the only beef, they may have made-up in a few months, but Mark just had to go fuck it up a little more. Donghyuck was running for Student Body President this year, it was a dream that he had had for so long and Mark knew it too, because Donghyuck had been talking about it from the eighth grade practically.

There weren’t any other strong competitors in the grade either so Donghyuck was obviously over the moon. That is of course, until Mark puts his name down for the campaign, signing himself up as a candidate.

Mark, captain of the basket-ball team. Mark, president of the book club. Mark, goody two shoes and teacher’s pet.

Donghyuck was obviously qualified too, being the captain of the baseball team and maintaining his perfect grades but he had quite a knack for pranks, so when the teachers found out that Mark would also be running, they changed their vote without hesitation.

Mark would be a better president, he’s less playful.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened after.

Donghyuck lost it when he found out and that basically put the permanent full stop to their friendship.

*End of Flashback*

Donghyuck gasps, jumping off of the white swing, swaying from the whiplash.

Mark’s eyes widen and he grabs his hand to steady him.

“I remembered something”.

Mark gulps, “What is it?”

“I play baseball, don’t I? And so does Renjun and Jaemin too”.

“Oh”, Mark bites his lip partially relieved, but at the same time fully afraid, “You remember them too”.

Donghyuck grins and turns around.

“Oh don’t get down and jealous Mark, I remembered you first so that makes you special”.

Mark smiles sadly.

If he could go back to that Halloween night, he’d do it right and kiss Donghyuck again and tell him how he had really felt. That he was just scared of his own feelings.

“You’re the special one, Hyuck, you’ll always be special to me”.

Mark regrets what he did so much and in this moment, when Donghyuck blushes at the compliment, Mark wants to grab his cute face and kiss him. But he fucked that chance up all by himself last year.

Donghyuck’s mom gives him his phone back a few days later and he’s slowly started to remember everyone around him, so he decides to text Renjun.

His message is seen in a matter of seconds and immediately, Renjun facetimes him.

“My God, Hyuck, it’d be easier to call the president than get in touch with you”.

Donghyuck laughs, immediately feeling a little better.

“How’re you feeling now?”

Donghyuck shrugs, “Still don’t have most of my memories, but I remembered you guys a few nights ago”.

Renjun nods, understanding.

“It’s not easy remembering only half of the world I knew, but Mark is helping me a lot so…”

“Wait, who is helping you?”

Renjun looks concerned but Donghyuck brushes it off as a fault of the connection.

“Mark, Mark Lee, he’s the first person I remembered but I can’t seem to remember any memories with him yet, we must’ve been very close though if he was the first one”.

“Yeah, right”, Renjun visibly scoffs but doesn’t say anything further (only for the sake of Donghyuck’s pending memory).

Donghyuck doesn’t like the uneasy feeling that’s beginning to settle in his stomach so he lies that he has to go and take his medicine and says goodbye to Renjun - who doesn’t really notice anything unusual other than the fact that Mark has been helping Donghyuck – and hangs up.

That night, Donghyuck dreams again, the first dream he’s had since the last one at the hospital and Mark is in it again. This time it’s different. There’s details, there’s scenes playing out behind his closed eyelids, there’s hurt, there’s tears and there’s fighting.

Donghyuck wakes up in a fit of pants, struggling to breathe, knocking several things off his nightstand when he attempts to turn the lights on. His chest squeezes tight, throat even tighter when everything comes flooding and flooding, like a dam had been opened, like he was drowning.

He tries to shout but no sound comes out so he scrambles to his feet in search of his phone that’s gotten lost in the sheets and calls the one person who can solve all this.

The annoyingly loud trap remix blares from next to Mark’s ear and he groans, rolling over in the thick sheets to grab his phone. He almost declines the call but when he reads the caller ID he sits up, awake, sliding his finger to answer.

“Hyuck, it’s three in the morning”, he yawns.

He’s met with some heavy breathing and the smallest, pained hmph sound.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Mark says, a little louder, getting off the mattress in case he needed to rush over to Donghyuck’s right away.

“K-Keep talking, please”, he finally hears and Donghyuck has never before sounded so weak.

Not even when they fought last year.

So Mark complies, he says nice things, comforting Donghyuck, having no idea that he was the cause of Donghyuck’s panic attack.

It seems to work though, Mark’s voice, it calms the younger boy down, his breathing gradually coming to a slow.

“Hyuck, do you remember when I said you’re very special to me? I really really meant that”.

Mark says softly and Donghyuck breathes in and out slowly.

“Mark, I remember everything”.

Mark buttons his shirt carefully for the second time, having missed a button the first time and tucks it into his jeans. He’s wearing a yellow shirt, because it’s Donghyuck’s favorite color and he hopes and prays that Donghyuck will at least hear him out.

Last night’s conversation had ended with Donghyuck tiredly saying, “We’ll talk tomorrow, I’ll meet you at the park”.

This morning, Donghyuck had texted him

Meet u near the swings at 4pm

The distance from Mark’s place to the park is a mere ten minutes so he walks. He gets there earlier than Donghyuck so he sits on one of the swings, swaying back and forth solemnly, kicking at the sand by his feet.

It’s not until he feels a hand on his shoulder that he looks away from the sand, startled.

“Hey”, Mark squeaks, incredibly high.

Donghyuck sits on the swing besides Mark’s.

“I-“, Mark starts and Donghyuck interrupts him.

“Don’t say you’re sorry”.

Mark nods sadly.

“I came here to thank you”, Donghyuck sighs.

Mark turns to him, confused.

“Thank me?”

Donghyuck turns too, looking into Mark’s eyes.

“Given our history, you could’ve easily refused to help me, but you didn’t, why?”

Mark looks down at the sand again, blushing.

“I finally had a chance to speak to you again and I wanted to be close to you again”.

“Yeah but why?” Donghyuck presses on and Mark blushes deeper.

“I told you, you’re really special to me Hyuck”.

Donghyuck goes quiet.

“Then why didn’t you even try, after what happened, you didn’t even try to fix things”.

Mark’s gaze drops lower before coming up to meet Donghyuck’s sad eyes.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to, and that’s my fault, I’m so so sorry, Hyuck, I should have, I should have tried until you forgave me, I should’ve handled things better that night, I should’ve kissed you again and told you how I really felt instead of running away from my own feelings because I was scared, I called you a pussy but really, I’m the pussy, for being too afraid to confront myself”

“And then I went ahead and ran for student council president because I heard that you kissed Jaemin in the locker rooms and I was jealous, I was so stupid and selfish and I knew after that, that I really fucked things up. Turns out the rumor was false too and I felt so shit after that but I knew it was too late, you technically hated me by then but I don’t blame you, I was such an asshole”.

“To be fair, I’m the one that spread that rumor about Jaemin and I, hoping to make you jealous”, Donghyuck nervously laughs and Mark is taken back for a second but smiles.

“Still, I had no right to get mad at you when I had turned your feelings away just months back, you had every right to kiss anyone you wanted- even if the rumor was false”, Mark argues, bashing himself, kicking himself into the dirt.

They sit there for a few minutes in comfortable silence, thankful now that it’s all out there.

Donghyuck stands up from his swing and holds his hand out for Mark to take.

Confused, the older still takes it.

He’s pulled up and into Donghyuck’s embrace, warm and forgiving in the autumn weather.

“We both did some immature shit, but I’m willing to bury all that if you are”, Donghyuck mumbles into Mark’s shoulder.

“Dude, heck yeah”, Mark mumbles back, almost sobbing into Donghyuck’s shoulder from the overwhelming emotions that are rising in his throat.

“Friends first, then we’ll see where this goes”, Donghyuck pulls away, holding out his pinky.

Mark crosses it with his own and brings his thumb up to meet Donghyuck’s thumb, like they’re tying together a promise.

And just to be completely honest with you, the friend’s first ordeal lasts maybe a few weeks – if you leave out all the excessive flirting before that – because soon enough they decide it’s time to see where it goes when Mark yet again finds himself kissing Donghyuck on a movie night, but this time, they both intend to make this a regular thing.

#markhyuck #nct markhyuck #markhyuck fluff #markhyuck angst #mark lee #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #haechan #nct mark #nct haechan #nct lee donghyuck #nct mark lee

126 notes · View notes