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jeonsjiddies · 3 years

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little things | jhs (m)

⏤ Pairing: single dad!Hoseok x reader ⏤ Genre: smut, fluff ⏤ Word Count: 6.1k ⏤ Warnings: very brief mentions of abortion (that didn’t happen), breast play, daddy kink, impregnation kink, cream pie, dirty talk

⏤ Summary: The best things in life are often unexpected. Like the two year old girl who ran up to you for comfort, and her devastatingly handsome father.

Thank you to @excusemin and @sugaflake for beta reading. I love you.

Part of my Milestone Celebration Event! Check out the other fics here.

The weather was absolutely perfect. The sun was bright and shining but it wasn’t hot enough to make you sweat. The wind was gentle and rustled the leaves on the trees with a tender caress, the birds were singing, and for the first time in a while, you felt good. You had taken a walk to the nearby park, making a few laps around the walking trail before settling yourself against a tree to soak in some sun and relax. You had promised yourself you’d get out more after being holed up in your apartment alone with only your red wine and oreos to keep you company. It had been a few weeks since you’d broken up with your boyfriend of the time, and you were finally ready to become a productive citizen of society again.

It was the perfect day to do so in your opinion, everything around you seemed so tranquil. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the warm air to soothe you. That was, until you heard a shrill shrieking and your eyes popped open seconds before a girl who couldn’t have been older than two, catapulted herself into your arms. She was screaming, crying, clinging to you for dear life, one hand pointing behind her and you looked up to see a disgruntled goose hissing at the two of you, stalking closer with a threatening posture.

You slowly stood and backed up behind the tree, holding the small girl close to you, ready to use your body to shield her own. The goose hissed a few more times, but thankfully did not advance any closer. You waited, watching quietly, and it seemed to decide you weren’t worth it before hissing in warning once more and stalking off towards its nest. You let out a breath of relief, and tried to set the little girl down but she clung to you and made it clear she wasn’t letting go, so you rubbed her back soothingly.

“Where’s your mommy and daddy?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” she sniffled into your neck.

“That’s okay, I’ll help you find them.”

You carried her closer to the playground section of the park, looking around for someone who might be looking for her. Soon you heard a frantic male voice booming through the air.

“Yeona! YEONA!”

The little girl’s head popped up at the sound, her head turning towards the voice.

“Daddy?”

You looked up and followed her line of sight, your gaze landing on a hunk of a man. He was tall, well-built but not bulky, with thick, black hair and lovely tan skin. The man’s eyes locked with the child in your arms and he visibly melted in relief seeing his daughter alive and unharmed. He ran over to the two of you quickly, guiding the fluffy dog on the leash with him. He reached the two of you almost instantly, and Yeona slipped from your arms into her father’s embrace easily, snuggling up to him.

“Thank goodness you’re okay! I was so worried!” he fretted, smoothing down her hair and fretting over her, causing her to let out the cutest giggle you’d ever heard in your life.

His gaze turned to you after he’d calmed down enough to pay attention to anything but the little girl in his arms, and it was then that you noticed his perfectly straight pearly white teeth, soft lips, and eyes that shimmered like diamonds. Your breath caught in your throat as he watched you and then he began to ramble.

“Thank you so much, I am so sorry! Mickey got his leash tangled around a pole and I turned my back for two seconds and she was gone! I was so scared I thought I was going to throw up, I kept thinking about all those stories I heard about little girls getting kidnapped and sold into slavery and I think I almost passed out. Thank you so much for keeping her safe, I don’t know how I can ever repay you. She is my everything I don’t know what I’d do without her, she’s all I’ve got left and I…” he sighed, taking a deep breath and opening those shimmery eyes to meet yours once again, “thank you.”

“It’s really no problem, I get it. Kids can be a handful.” you smiled reassuringly.

“Thank you so much. For helping. For not judging. Oh! I’m Hoseok.” he extended a hand to you and you shook it gently, feeling sparks racing up your arm and down your spine but you shook them off.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

You both heard Yeona’s stomach growl and Hoesok laughed.

“Time for lunch, little one?”

She nodded and pouted adorably.

“Say bye to Y/N.”

Her little face scrunched up in displeasure and she started crying, reaching out desperately for you, and Hoseok almost dropped her from the unexpected shift in her weight. Taken aback, you allowed her to jump into your arms once more, cradling her close so she didn’t fall. She buried her head in your neck and you looked at Hoseok in shock.

“I’m so sorry, Yeona come on we have to go.” he tried prying her from your frame but she only wailed in response, clutching tighter.

“NO.”

“Yeona please, Y/N must want to go home.”

“No!” she sobbed.

You rubbed her back soothingly, rocking from side to side a bit to calm her down.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t cry. Look at me, okay?”

She pulled back slightly to look at your face and you smiled.

“There’s a pretty girl!” you smiled, smoothing down some hair that had gone awry. “How’s this? If you go get lunch with daddy, I promise we can play together at the park soon. Okay? Well, if that’s alright with you?” you looked up at Hoseok.

“Of course!” he agreed quickly.

“But… I want you to come too.” she pouted, looking up at you with pitiful puppy dog eyes.

You looked up at Hoseok for some direction and he watched the two of you carefully.

“Would you like to join us for lunch? My treat. As a thank you.” he offered, scratching the back of his neck nervously, a shy smile gracing his lips.

“I don’t want to impose-” you began but Yeona whined loudly.

“Please!”

“I mean, if you’re sure…” you trailed off.

“Yay!” Yeona grinned, hugging you tightly then wiggling out of your grasp and taking your hand, pulling you along with her towards the car.

Hoseok laughed and followed the two of you with Mickey on his leash. Yeona insisted that you sit with her in the back so she could show you her collection of stickers. You gave the appropriate excited responses to each one, even gifting you a shimmery mermaid, pressing it into your shirt, telling you it was her favorite but she wanted you to have it.

Hoseok pulled up to a local cafe that had outdoor seating, saying he didn’t feel comfortable leaving Mickey in the car alone, a fact that warmed your heart. You helped Yeona slide onto the bench, Hoseok sitting across from the two of you. You ordered something cheap, not wanting to burden him, and made small talk while you waited for your food.

“Thank you again, so much, for keeping Yeona safe. I don’t know what I’d do if something had happened to her,” Hoseok sighed.

“No problem at all, thank you for lunch!”

Hoseok smiled, and turned to watch Yeona draw something on one of those kids menus they give out with crayons, her picture depicting the day at the park.

“So is your wife at work?” you asked, sipping on your soda, attempting to avoid the silence.

“I, uh, don’t have a wife,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize - your husband?”

“I’m single.” Hoseok laughed.

“Oh. So it’s just you raising Yeona?”

“Yeah, it’s been just us since the beginning. Her mom… it wasn’t a permanent thing, and when she realized she was pregnant, she wanted to…” he glanced over at Yeona, and though she was busy messing with Mickey, Hoseok still imitated the scissor motion with his hands, rather than saying the word.

Your eyes grew wide and you glanced over at Yeona.

“I mean, I believe in choices, don’t get me wrong, but I couldn’t imagine that happening to my child. I begged her to reconsider and promised I wouldn’t ask for anything if she let me keep Yeona, and here we are.”

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” you watched his face for a reaction.

“You don’t have to say anything! I just wanted to thank you again.”

“Anyone would’ve done the same, I hope.”

“You would hope, but oftentimes I just get judgemental looks or scowls. People aren’t very kind to single parents, apparently,” he sighed, twirling the straw around in his drink, “so your kindness is appreciated.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you’ve been treated that way. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to raise a child alone. If you never need anything, you can call me? If you feel comfortable?” you offered, holding out your phone.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” Hoseok’s eyes widened in shock.

You shook your head with a smile, handing over your phone for him to input his number and texted him so he had yours. Hoseok looked star struck, and you wondered why someone so bright and happy could receive such backlash. You couldn’t focus on that thought for long, because Yeona jumped up excitedly, clapping and pointing to the waiter who was bringing your food.

You helped her cut hers into smaller bites and entertained her throughout the meal whilst eating yours so Hoseok could relax and enjoy his food, and you didn’t miss the appreciative smile he sent you.

Throughout the next few months, you spent more and more time with both Hoseok and Yeona. You’d meet them at the park, accompany them on little adventures, video chat with them before bed. You began hanging out at their house, spending your days nestled in the crook of their couch with Yeona snuggled up against your side while you watched Frozen 2 for the six hundredth time, or conducting a rather elegant tea party in which you’d convinced Hoseok to wear a tiara for.

You spent so much time around the pair, their home had begun to feel like a home away from home. You often found yourself crashing on the couch after playing too hard and staying too late. You searched YouTube and learned how to french braid since Yeona couldn’t stop talking about “princess hair” and Hoseok was… less than talented with her hair. You would sit behind her on her bed, braiding her hair and telling her silly stories and jokes, and began to love the little girl as your own.

Hoseok would sneak up behind you and attack the both of you with tickles or start a bubble fight. Sometimes it was hard to forget you weren’t a family, especially when strangers in public mistook you for one. You’d blush and look away, while Hoseok would gently correct them… at first. Slowly, Hoseok stopped correcting them, saying they could think whatever they wanted.

You tried not to read too much into that, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered when he would just let other people think that you were together, that you were a family. Sometimes, he’d even play it up, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close, purposefully giving people the wrong idea with a mischievous smirk on his face.

You’d try to hide the heat on your skin, the way your heart pounded, the way your breathing seemed a little uneven when he got too close. While you’d just seen Hoseok as an attractive man and a wonderful father at first, the more time you spent with him, the more you had begun to fall for him. He was so sweet and funny and kind and cared about Yeona so much it burned your insides with joy.

The nights when you’d stay, you both had a habit of sipping on a glass of wine while you chatted, just enjoying each other’s company, and enjoying the peace and quiet. You’d never trade Yeona for anything, but sometimes she was so energetic the both of you couldn’t quite keep up, needing to unwind and relax after she’d fallen asleep.

You’d met his friends and parents at Yeona’s third birthday party, and they loved you as much as Hoseok did, a fact that caused his bright smile to glow to the point he rivaled the sun. You’d become a staple in their lives, a constant, someone they could rely on. It was crazy to you how one fateful day had changed the course of your life, and these two unsuspecting strangers had grabbed onto your heart and refused to let go. You couldn’t say you were complaining though.

Not when you were the cause of Yeona’s adorable little giggle, her tiny hands coming to cover her face while her entire frame shook from the force of her laughter. Not when you’d look over and catch Hoseok watching the two of you with a wistful, joyful expression. Not when he’d join the fun and you’d both chase her around the yard, Mickey following and barking while his tail wagged a million miles an hour.

There had even been a few nights you’d awoken on their couch to find Yeona crawling up next to you, whimpering pathetically as she mumbled “bad dream” and reached to you for comfort. You’d hold her close and stroke her hair, humming gentle lullabies to soothe her weary young mind. There were nights when you weren’t there and you’d get a FaceTime call at an unholy hour, Hoseok apologizing, saying Yeona wouldn’t go back to sleep without speaking to you.

You’d comfort her and assure her everything was alright, and you would visit her soon, and the two of you would have so much fun she wouldn’t even remember why she was sad in the first place. Hoseok would thank you, apologizing that he couldn’t convince her to leave you be, and you’d shrug him off, telling him you were available anytime. You loved her and would do anything to make her happy. What you didn’t tell him was that the same applied to him...

It was almost embarrassing how badly you wanted him, how badly you wanted to be a true part of their little family. You knew you had a special place in their hearts, that you were an honorary part of the family, but you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining what it might have been like if you were to be with Hoseok, if you were to accept Yeona as your own. Would you be able to make them happy? Or would you just be trying to fill a void meant for someone else? You’d shrug those thoughts away as soon as they came and focus on living your life as normally as you could.

That’s when your other thoughts about Hoseok would set in. To say you wanted Hoseok would be quite the understatement. Yes, you wanted to be a part of their family in the simplest ways, to be there for them and love them unconditionally, but there was also that lingering attraction. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him some days when he laughed, when his shirt rode up and accidentally displayed the trail of hair leading down to the promised land.

When he’d display his strength by helping you move something, or when he’d wrap his arms around you just a little too tightly, allowing your bodies to press against each other. If you weren’t cooing over how cute the two of them were, you were thirsting over Hoseok and trying desperately to think innocent thoughts, lest your arousal get so potent he would notice.

Once, you’d gone to the pool with Hoseok and Yeona, thinking nothing of the invite until you’d shown up in your bikini, ready to swim. Hoseok had physically ceased moving and his gaze had slowly trailed down your body, drinking in the sight of you so scantily-clad. His gaze had your skin burning more than the hot summer sun and you squirmed under his undivided attention, unable to stop yourself from also peeking a glance at his shirtless chest. Smooth skin, abs that weren’t too defined but were definitely there, that drool-worthy v shape that disappeared into his trunks…

You’d both snapped back to reality when Yeona had whined loudly, asking you to play with her under the waterfall station. Heat had flooded your cheeks and Hoseok had looked down with a guilty expression, scratching the back of his neck with a chuckle, saying he’d find a chair to place your items at and would meet the two of you over there.

There was also the time you’d come over for movie night a little earlier than planned and Hoseok had answered the door in a towel, loosely hung low on his hips and you’d been mesmerized by the water droplets that slowly traveled down his almost naked body. You’d audibly sucked in a breath, your mouth parting just slightly, and Hoseok had apologized, then rushed off to get dressed, but you hadn’t gotten the image out of your mind since.

On Friday night, you’d just arrived home after a long day at work, flinging yourself onto the couch with your amazon package in hand, a cute JoJo bow you’d picked up for Yeona after seeing it on the app during your late night scrolling. All your targeted ads were now centered around items for young girls rather than women your own age from you spoiling the young girl so much. You smiled to yourself and just as the thought had left your mind, your phone rang.

“Y/N!” Hoseok gasped, sounding panicked.

You immediately sat up, “what’s wrong?”

“I have this event for work tonight that I absolutely can not miss and my babysitter just cancelled. I tried calling the guys, my mom, everyone! No one’s available and I hate to ask this, but do you think you could watch Yeona? I swear it’ll only take like, two hours! Tops!”

“Hobi, calm down. I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?!” he sighed in relief.

“You ordered me pizza for tonight.”

“You got it. The usual?”

“You’re the best, I’ll see you soon.”

You hoisted yourself up from the couch and trudged out the door, making quick work of your drive to Hoseok’s place. The door swung open before you could even knock, and Yeona flung herself into you, wrapping her arms around your legs, then reaching up for you to hold her. You leaned down and picked her up, snuggling her close to you as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

“Daddy said you’re going to play with me! By ourselves!” she bounced excitedly in your arms.

“It’s true! Are you excited?”

“Yes!”

You giggled and placed her on the ground, turning to Hoseok who was slipping his jacket on. He leaned in to give you a tight, thankful hug that allowed you to smell his intoxicating aftershave. You swooned silently to yourself, hugging him back.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! The pizzas on the way, I already put the tip in. I will be back by 8 at the latest!”

“Take your time, I love hanging out with Yeona.” you reassured him.

He shot you an appreciative smile before leaning down and kissing Yeona on the cheek, then absentmindedly doing the same to you before rushing out the door. You stood frozen in place, staring at the closed door Hoseok had just exited from, shell shocked until Yeona tugged at your tights, forcing you to avert your attention to her and not your racing heart.

“Y/N, come play.”

“Oh! Right. I got you a present,” you dug into your purse and pulled out the shimmery bow, clipping it into her hair.

“Jojo!” she shrieked excitedly.

You giggled and followed along as she tugged you towards the mirror, surveying her new bow and twirling around like the diva she was.

“I look like a princess!” she said in awe, her eyes shining.

“You are a princess!”

Her chubby little cheeks tinged pink with glee and she pulled you into her room, deciding she wanted to play dress-up with her princess dresses and find the one that matched the bow the most. Mickey lay on her bed, looking up at you with curiosity and wagging his tail. You sat beside him and gently stroked his head, causing him to nuzzle into your touch.

You watched with amusement as Yeona tore apart her closet to find the best dress to go with her new bow, absentmindedly picking up the used dresses and hanging them back up for her. If she drug out her toys though, you’d make her pick those up. But she was just having so much fun you didn’t want to interrupt, and the clutter bothered you so you picked it up in between your choruses of “ooh I like that one” and “you look so pretty!”

The doorbell rang, causing Mickey to let out a protective bark and you soothed his fur down before standing to open the door. The man on the other side greeted you warmly, asking you to sign the receipt for the pizza, which you did, before wishing him a good night. You drooled a bit, smelling your favorite toppings that Hoseok had remembered to order.

“Yeona! Dinners here!” you called, grabbing two plates and setting the table.

Yeona came skipping into the kitchen, and you helped her climb into the booster seat on her favorite chair before placing a bib on her so she didn’t ruin her dress. You cut the pizza slice into more manageable pieces for Yeona to eat before sliding into your own chair, biting into the heavenly food. You groaned happily and Yeona giggled, eating hers with her little cartoon character utensils.

Putting the leftovers in the fridge to ensure Hoseok had a snack later, knowing he didn’t eat before rushing off to work, you continued to play with Yeona for about an hour or two before she started yawning and you checked the clock, realizing it was almost bedtime. You helped her clean up the toys and mess you’d both made before pulling out some pajamas for her and assisting her with brushing her teeth.

You tucked her into bed and she pulled on your sleeve, looking up at you with the sweetest puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Are you going to read me a story like daddy does?”

“I can! What do you want to read?”

“If you give a mouse a cookie!”

You grinned and grabbed the book off the shelf, leaning against the headboard next to Yeona and began reading.

“If a hungry little mouse shows up on your doorstep, you might want to give him a cookie. And if you give him a cookie, he'll ask for a glass of milk. He'll want to look in a mirror to make sure he doesn't have a milk mustache, and then he'll ask for a pair of scissors to give himself a trim…”

About halfway through the book, Yeona’s eyes started drifting closed, but her little hand reached out to hold onto your free one, and you looked down at her, setting the book down in your lap.

“I love you, Y/N,” Yeona mumbled, snuggling closer to the warmth of your body.

“I love you too, sweet girl,” you cooed, smoothing her hair out of her face with a tender touch.

“Wish you were my mommy.” she sighed, barely awake.

You didn’t move, didn’t breathe. You didn’t know how to respond, but thankfully she didn’t seem to be looking for one, her eyelids fluttering shut before you heard her soft, even breathing.

“Baby girl, I would never leave you behind if I were,” you whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear as you continued to stroke her hair, “I would take care of you, my love. I wish I was your mommy too.”

You watched her sleep for a little while longer, her precious face looking so peaceful and pure. You wondered how anyone could ever walk away from such a beautiful little girl. Stroking her hair one last time, you stood and placed the book back on the shelf, exiting the room with Mickey on your heels and slowly shutting the door.

You let him outside to use the bathroom and gave him a treat before settling into the couch with him in your lap, petting him absentmindedly as your thoughts raced with the events of the night. How Yeona had been so cute dressing up, had been so entertaining with the little tea party you’d both held, how she’d told you she wished you were her mom… How Hoseok had kissed your cheek, clearly not thinking about it, and doing it out of habit, but how it had sent your heart lurching out of your chest. Just as the thought of Hoseok had crossed your mind, the door opened and Hoseok rushed inside, quietly but profusely apologizing for being late.

“I am so sorry, the function ran over and I was on the cleanup crew so I couldn’t leave.” Hobi whisper-shouted.

“It’s fine, I had fun, I barely realized what time it was. Yeona’s asleep.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Hoseok gushed, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet and hold out some bills for you to take.

You looked up at him with one eyebrow arched, a sassy look on your face, and that had him putting the money away.

“Are you sure? I can pay you, I know you probably had other plans, it is Friday night after all.”

“Hobi, there is nowhere I would rather be, no matter what day of the week it is.” you smiled.

“You’re a god-send.” he groaned.

“It’s late, I should get going.” you smiled, seeing how exhausted he was and wanting to get out of his hair.

“Nooo, it’s too late for you to drive home alone. What if you fall asleep at the wheel? You should just stay. You can take my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your room. I can take the couch.”

“Are you thirsty? Want some wine?” he offered, walking backwards towards the kitchen.

“Sure.”

Hoseok grabbed two glasses of wine and the bottle, setting the objects on the coffee table in front of you and easing himself into the seat beside you, and you both sipped on the dark red liquid as you talked.

“I really am so thankful for your help tonight, all your help with Yeona. It’s not easy doing everything on my own. I know I have my parents and the guys, but sometimes I wonder if I’m giving her the best life or if I’m holding her back from having a happy family,” he sighed.

“Hobi, that little girl adores you, there is no one she’d rather have as her father.”

“I know, but is that what’s best for her? Doesn’t she need a mom?”

“She needs people who love her and support her, and she has that,” you comfort, rubbing his back soothingly, “she has you, the guys, her grandparents, me…”

“You’re right, thank you. I just get insecure sometimes, thinking she deserves better than… well, me.”

“Hobi, you’re an amazing dad! You’re so good with her, you’re raising her so well. She’s sweet and smart and well-behaved. She is so loved and it shows, because she displays love. You are a wonderful father, and you are more than enough.”

“Thank you, really. You always know just what to say. I’m so glad I met you, you’ve been so good to Yeona and I.” he smiled.

“I’m glad I met you too, you two are so important to me! I couldn’t imagine a life without you both in it.”

“...really?”

“Of course!” you immediately replied with conviction, holding onto Hoseok’s hand without realizing it.

Hands still in yours, Hoseok’s gaze lifted to meet your own, and you didn’t shy away like you’d immediately wanted to, wanting to both comfort him, and also look into his beautiful eyes for a moment more. You couldn’t believe Hoseok was insecure about his abilities to raise Yeona, he was the best father you’d ever seen, one of the million things you’d come to love about him. His eyes flickered from yours to your lips momentarily, and he slowly leaned closer to your now-shivering frame.

“Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll back off,” he whispered as he closed the gap between your lips.

You didn’t say anything, instead opting to close the remaining distance yourself, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, chaste kiss. Hobi scooted closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you against his body, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck. The kiss was sweet and tentative at first but quickly lit a fire inside your core, and somehow, you found yourself straddling his lap, grinding your core down on his semi-hard erection.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he groaned, moving his kisses down to your neck, muttering into your skin, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Me too.” you admitted through breathless exhales, working your hips against his while he worked his lips against your skin.

You slipped your fingers under his shirt, feeling his stomach up to his nipples, grazing your nails gently across the buds, causing his body to jerk towards you. You smirked to yourself, lifting the shirt which he aided you in removing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his smooth, tan skin. You gently nudged him backwards until his head rested on the arm of the couch, and kissed your way down his torso until you reached the hem of his jeans.

Hoseok’s breath hitched as you undid his belt, looking up at him to make sure it was okay and he grinned at you, running his hand through your hair to gather it into a makeshift ponytail. You took that as an okay and slid his jeans and boxers down just enough to reveal his throbbing length, precum, leaking from the tip. You licked along the slit, gathering the precum on your tongue and swallowing, making a pleased noise in the back of your throat.

Hoseok shivered, biting down on his lip and watching you lick a bold stripe along the underside, your hand reaching to cup his balls while you sunk down on his length, hollowing your cheeks around his throbbing member. Hoseok gripped your hair a little tighter in an attempt not to buck up into your mouth. You took him as deep as you could, letting the tip hit the back of your throat as you sucked him for dear life.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that,” he moaned helplessly, his grip on your hair loosening.

In response, you simply bobbed your head up and down faster, sucking harder on his length, using every trick you had to get him to his orgasm. Hoseok groaned, probably a little too loudly, before tapping the side of your cheek to warn you, but you didn’t pull away. Hoseok groaned, his back arching off the couch as he spilled his seed down your throat and you swallowed it all, licking your lips once you’d pulled off of his softening cock.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

You giggled and leaned up to peck his lips, which he returned with fervor, licking along your bottom lip and deepening the kiss, pulling you closer , letting your hips settle atop his while his mouth worked against your own.

“I really want to be inside you,” he groaned.

“Fuck me, Hobi,” you pleaded, grinding yourself on his length, and you felt it stir to life once more.

“Need to prep you.”

“No, I’m so fucking wet for you, I’m ready,” you groaned, lifting yourself off of him to shed your panties from under your skirt, bunching it up around your hips and lining your entrance with his now-erect penis.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, sinking down on his member and groaning at the way he stretched your walls, the slight burn being aided by the amount of arousal that had pooled in your cunt, allowing his length to slip into your inviting heat with minimal resistance. Hoseok bit down on his arm, holding in a moan at the feeling of your wet cavern wrapped around his cock so perfectly.

Hoseok’s hands came to rest on your hips, guiding your pace as you bounced on his cock, riding him with enthusiasm, your walls clenching around him each time the tip of his cock kissed that special spot inside you. Hoseok lifted his hips to meet yours, keeping time with your thrusts and you bit down on your lip to hold in a moan.

“Fuck, you feel even better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?” you wondered, swiveling your hips down on him.

“Every night since I met you,” he admitted.

“Fuck, Hobi. Me too. Want you so bad,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? You want Daddy to fill you up? Want me to fill this pretty pussy with my seed? Fuck a baby into you?” he growled and you clenched at the words.

“Yes, fuck.”

“Mmm, you like that? Wanna be filled with Daddy’s cum? Wanna see it drip out of that tight little pussy.” he groaned, speeding up his thrusts.

“Hobi, yes,” you whined, his dirty words spurring you closer to your release, “close.”

“Me too, baby. Come on, cum for me,” he urged, leaning up to bring one of your nipples in his mouth.

Your orgasm crashed over you the moment his tongue ran over the sensitive bud. You held your breath to keep from crying out as Hoseok worked you through your high, reaching his before you had finished yours, the feeling of his warm seed filling your battered hole making your orgasm even more intense.

Coming down from your highs, you lifted your hips to allow his length to slip out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your sex, running down your leg and his. Hoseok groaned at the sight, pulling you into his chest. You snuggled up to him for a moment before you both got up to clean up, him assisting you by gently running a damp rag along your folds and you running it along his leg to clean up the mess you’d both made.

You pulled your clothes back on and Hoseok grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom and offering you a t-shirt to sleep in. You weren’t sure he would want you to stay, but you were thankful he did. And not on the couch. After changing into Hobi’s clothes and cuddling up to him, his arm wrapped around your middle, you felt at ease. Hobi was the first to break the silence.

“Please tell me this means you’ll be mine,” he whispered against the skin of your neck while placing little kisses along the skin there.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine,” you answered, leaning down to capture his lips with yours.

One year later

Pushing the key in the lock of your brand new house, you opened the door and looked around the foyer, and heard little footsteps running through the hall, a sweet giggle echoing.

“Mommy! You’re home!” Yeona grinned, launching herself into your arms, and you spun her around, holding her close to your chest.

“I’m home, baby girl. How was your day?”

“It was good! I missed you though, you and my baby sister!” she grinned, her tiny, chubby hand caressing your plump belly.

“We missed you too, pumpkin. Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s in his office, he’s been boring today, but he did take a break to play with me. He doesn’t play dress up like you do, you’re more fun,” she whined, clutching at your neck.

“Hmmm, how about we play a little before dinner then?”

She squealed excitedly, wiggling out of your grasp and running to her room. You followed behind her, leaning up against Hoseok’s office door on the way.

“Hey, handsome.”

Hoseok looked up, immediately standing and walking up to you, his hand gently caressing your baby bump while he pressed his lips to yours.

“Welcome home, baby. And baby,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face, pecking his cheek.

“Yeona says you’re boring and don’t play dress up the right way,” you smirked, mocking him.

Hoseok groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes dramatically before his smile reached his eyes as he softly said, “Well, it’s a good thing we have you.”

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yelenasgreenvest · 3 years

Text

Szabadság tér 16 (Yelena Belova x reader)

Words: 1,117

Pairing: Yelena Belova x reader, Yelena Belova x you

Summary: While in the safe house, you and Yelena go on a grocery run, but she gets distracted by the flower stall.

Budapest is a very warm city in the summer. It was not enough that you wanted to throw yourself out of the window of the seven storey building, but enough that you annoyed Yelena enough that she fanned you with some papers. You were both holed up in a safe house in Budapest together at the time. She had freed almost all of the black widows left behind after Dreykov's demise, but her last mission had gone awry and now she was being hunted by a few different state police forces.

Even though staying inside during this weather was almost unbearable, the bath served as a mini swimming pool and the small refrigerator served as an a/c unit. On the nights when the city would quieten down, she would push the mattress to the window, so you could count the stars with a cool breeze blowing over you.

She had been given a safe house by Mason and he had stocked it with medicine, supplies and food to last her a few weeks. When Yelena's wounds became infected and she asked for you to be the only person to take care of her, he personally flew you out. Now, it had been a few weeks, and the supplies were getting low. Even though you both knew it was the right thing to do, leaving was as dangerous as it could possibly be.

You brought Yelena some stuff to disguise her with. In order to conceal her blonde hair, she wore a black wig, a hoodie, sunglasses. Who am I, exactly? Clark Kent? As you brushed the wig into place, Yelena moaned, "This won't work.". She looked fine, but you liked her blonde better because she was more fun. As you handed her the sunglasses, you complimented her, "I think you look cute.".

We'll have to get black hair dye then, I guess."

"Nono!She smirked, knowing you loved her blonde hair. She surveyed her reflection and fixed a few bits of her hair. Picking up the concealer, you made your way to the girl to fix her yellowing bruise. I always have to take care of my poor baby girl".

"You should see the other guy." She laughed and pecked your nose and lips. At her affection, your smile grew. She would be the death of you. Her hand was in yours as you grabbed your bag and walked out of the room.

“We need a safe word,” Yelena started to explain. “For what? It’s not sex, just shopping” You laughed but her sudden serious tone made you listen. “No, just in case we see something that could be potentially dangerous and it is not safe for you”

“For me? You are still recovering, you are not strong enough to fight at this point"

“No, but I can fight them off and keep you safe until you get to the safe house” She kissed the knuckles on your hand as you descended the winding staircase together. It was your instinct to roll your eyes at the idea of her becoming your white knight. The last thing you would expect is for her to put herself in danger for you, though you would do it in a heartbeat for her. "Squash! Yes, squash!"", she nearly shouted as she reached the bottom step of the staircase.

"Pardon me?" you asked, her big smile beaming at you. Our safe word will be squash. When we hear squash, we leave. You can count on her to do anything to protect you.

You and Yelena could get all the necessities you needed at the nearby penny mart, which was only around the corner from the safe house. Yelena went straight for the junk food aisle when you were inside the grocery store, even though you had made a little list on a scrap of paper of all the things you needed. Her non-hurt arm was holding a small red basket containing chocolates and gummies that was filled with candy. "Yelena no, no, no!" You growled at the spy as she rolled her eyes and stumbled over to the fresh fruit and vegetables. Foods from the list were added and ticked off as you placed them in the cart. As you saw the pale yellow vegetable, you asked Yelena, "Do we need that today, sweetie?" pointing at it.

Yelena’s eyes, who were scanning each customer in the shop, snapped to the vegetable and then rolled far too dramatically for your liking. “Not yet, but if you’re not careful, I will make you scream it later”.

After smirking back at the moany assassin, you walked over to the frozen aisle to pick up a few chicken nuggets to satisfy her. As you were close to finishing, you noticed that Yelena was nowhere to be seen. In the aisles you walked back and forth without spotting any sign of your girlfriend and your mind started to race with all the thoughts of what could have happened. It is possible that someone could have seen her and taken her just like that. There would be no way for you to track her down. She was just gone. While the panic set in, you were quickly repeating the word squash over and over to yourself.

Then you heard giggling coming from the front of the store. Walking up, it was evident Yelena was chatting with a child at the flower stand. There are roses, tulips, sunflowers, lilies, and all other kinds of beautiful flowers you can't possibly name. She took the sunflower and ran the petals on the young girl's nose, and as she giggled, Yelena's smile grew bigger and bigger.

Since she has lost so much of her childhood and she is frantically trying to cling to the memories she has of Ohio, she is only capable of showing kindness to children. She complimented the blond child, "This one smells just like you", she picked up the rose and held it out so the little one could smell it as well. As you watched Yelena interact with someone she was genuinely happy to talk to, you felt your heart melt. You didn't have to worry for a second that they were going to hurt her in any way. It was really amazing to see how open she became around children, and you hoped that she would be like that when you had kids, if you two were to have children of our own.

She smiled at you as she went over to pick up a bouquet of flowers and made her way to meet you at the cashier desk, where you were waiting. Her eyes twinkled and she winked at you, "I have a new friend.". There was a moment in which you joked to her, "I see. Maybe I'll leave the safe house and you two can play together", you responded. It seems to me like I can only play with you tonight," she said smirking, and you can bet you would have a lot of fun in bed with her.

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maandarinee · 3 years

Note

what are all the podcasts you listen to?

anon I'm so glad you asked

Since it is a pretty long list including synopses (stolen from the podcast feed or website because I'm Bad at summaries and in some cases it's been a while since I listened) I'm going to put it under a cut.

I've separated the list into "Complete" (either finished or cancelled) and "Ongoing" podcasts. Some have additional comments by me. Current favorites are marked orange. My eternal beloved are Our Fair City and Wolf 359.

Complete

ars PARADOXICA: "When an experiment in a time much like our own goes horribly awry, Dr. Sally Grissom finds herself stranded in the past and entrenched in the activities of a clandestine branch of the US government. Grissom and her team quickly learn that there's no safety net when toying with the fundamental logic of the universe."

Blackwood: "Five years ago, Molly Weaver, Bryan Anderson, and Nathan Howell started a podcast focused on the local legend of a monster called The Blackwood Bugman. Quickly, the investigation grew out of their control, as they discovered that, not only are the legends seemingly true, many people in Blackwood have turned up dead or disappeared without a trace." --> [this feels like the Blair With Project, but as a podcast. Didn't get a second season due to no funding, but it works as a standalone]

Dreamboy: "Dane, a spun-out musician spending the winter in Cleveland, Ohio, has two main goals: keeping his job at the Pepper Heights Zoo and trying not to waste all his time on Grindr. What he doesn’t expect is to get swept into a story about dreams, about forevers, about flickering lights, about unexplained deaths, about relentless change, and about the parts of ourselves that we wish other people knew to look for. Oh, and also a murderous zebra." --> [very NSFW; does cool things with music! Didn't get a second season due to no funding, but it works as a standalone]

King Fall AM: "...centers on a lonely little mountain town's late-night AM talk radio show and its paranormal, peculiar happenings and inhabitants." --> [cancelled after 100 episodes, ends on a huge cliffhanger]

Our Fair City: "A campy, post-apocalyptic audio drama." --> [I know the description sounds like nothing but just trust me, I love it so much]

Steal the Stars: "...is a gripping noir science fiction thriller in 14 episodes: Forbidden love, a crashed UFO, an alien body, and an impossible heist unlike any ever attempted."

Stellar Firma: "...a weekly Science Fiction, Comedy podcast following the misadventures of Stellar Firma Ltd.'s highest born but lowest achieving planetary designer Trexel Geistman and his bewildered clone assistant David 7. Join them each episode as they attempt to take listener submissions and craft them into the galaxy's most luxurious, most expensive and most questionably designed bespoke planets. However, with Trexel's corporate shark of a line manager Hartro Piltz breathing down their necks and I.M.O.G.E.N., the station's omnipresent and omniinvasive stationwide A.I. monitoring those necks to within 3 decimal places, they'll be lucky to make it a week before being slurried and recycled into raw human resources." --> [semi-improvised, I thought I'd have a problem with the improv bit because that's not usually my thing, but no, I absolutely devoured this]

TANIS: "...is a serialized docudrama about a fascinating and surprising mystery: the myth of Tanis. Tanis is an exploration of the nature of truth, conspiracy, and information. Tanis is what happens when the lines of science and fiction start to blur." [+ spinoff The Last Movie] --> [I have no clue what the hell is going on here]

The Black Tapes: "...is a serialized docudrama about one journalist's searc for truth, her enigmatic subject's mysterious past, and the literal and figurative ghosts that haunt them both."

The Magnus Archives: "...is a weekly horror fiction anthology podcast examining what lurks in the archives of the Magnus Institute, an organisation dedicated to researching the esoteric and the weird. Join new head archivist Jonathan Sims as he attempts to bring a seemingly neglected collection of supernatural statements up to date, converting them to audio and supplementing them with follow-up work from his small but dedicated team. Individually, they are unsettling. Together they begin to form a picture that is truly horrifying because as they look into the depths of the archives, something starts to look back…"

Time:Bombs: "...a new audio drama podcast about the hilarious world of bomb disposal. Ride along with EOD technician Simon Teller on the busiest night of the year for him and his team - when business is, quite literally, booming."

Wolf 359: "Life's not easy for Doug Eiffel, the communications officer for the U.S.S. Hephaestus Research Station, currently on Day 448 of its orbit around red dwarf star Wolf 359. He's stuck on a scientific survey mission of indeterminate length, 7.8 light years from Earth. His only company on board the station are stern mission chief Minkowski, insane science officer Hilbert, and Hephaestus Station's sentient, often malfunctioning operating system Hera. He doesn't have much to do for his job other than monitoring static and intercepting the occasional decades-old radio broadcast from Earth, so he spends most of his time creating extensive audio logs about the ordinary, day-to-day happenings within the station. But the Hephaestus is an odd place, and life in extremely isolated, zero gravity conditions has a way of doing funny things to people's minds. Even the simplest of tasks can turn into a gargantuan struggle, and the most ordinary-seeming things have a way of turning into anything but that." --> [starts funny, turns very intense]

Ongoing

Alba Salix, Roya Physician (+ The Axe & Crown): "A witch, her apprentice, and her fairy herbalist treat the ills of a fairy-tale kingdom." + "Gubbin the troll tavernkeeper deals with his clueless new landlord, his shady niece, and some new competition."

Archive 81: "A found footage horror podcast about ritual, stories, and sound."

Arden: "A (fictional) true crime podcast about cold cases and the reporter and detective who try to solve them."

Brimstone Valley Mall: "The year is 1999. Lurking somewhere between Hot Topic and the food court, five misfit demons from Hell kill time inciting sin in a suburban shopping mall. When the lead singer of their band goes mysteriously missing, the demons only have two weeks to find him before they play the biggest gig of the millennium - or face the wrath of Satan herself."

CARAVAN: "First rule of Wound Canyon: No one who gets in, ever gets out. So when a brilliant, ghostly specter flies through the sky amid the rain and lightning, Samir stumbles off a steep cliff and into a hidden world, one in which demons, vampires, and all other manner of paranormal creatures take sanctuary." --> [also pretty NSFW and horny in general]

Death by Dying: "The Obituary Writer of Crestfall, Idaho finds himself deeply in over his head as he investigates a series of strange and mysterious deaths… when he is supposed to simply be writing obituaries. Along the way he encounters murderous farmers, man-eating cats, haunted bicycles, and a healthy dose of ominous shadows." --> [I had to stop listening to this in public because it kept making me undignified laugh and snort noises]

Desperado: "Blood magic, Voodoo magic, old gods, new gods: We've got it all! Follow the story of misfits from all over the world, as they try to survive and protect their heritage from modern-day crusaders."

EOS 10: "Doctors in space, a deposed alien prince, a super gay space pirate and a fiery nurse who'll help you win your bar fight."

Girl In Space: "Abandoned on a dying ship in the farthest reaches of known space, a young scientist fights for survival (and patience with the on-board A.I.). Who is she? No one knows. But a lot of dangerous entities really want to find out. Listen as the story unfolds for science, guns, trust, anti-matter, truth, beauty, inner turmoil, and delicious cheeses. It’s all here. In space."

Janus Descending: "...follows the arrival of two xenoarcheologists on a small world orbiting a binary star. But what starts off as an expedition to survey the planet and the remains of a lost alien civilization, turns into a monstrous game of cat and mouse, as the two scientists are left to face the creatures that killed the planet in the first place. Told from two alternating perspectives, Janus Descending is an experience of crossing timelines, as one character describes the nightmare from end to beginning, and the other, from beginning to the end." --> [absolutely harrowing horror]

Love and Luck: "...is a fictional radio play podcast, told via voicemails and set in present day Melbourne, Australia. A slice of life queer romance story with a touch of magic, it follows the relationship between two men, Jason and Kane, as their love grows both for each other and their community." --> [soft and gay, feels like a warm hug]

Potterless: "Join Mike Schubert, a grown man reading the Harry Potter series for the first time, as he sits down with HP fanatics to poke fun at plot holes, make painfully incorrect predictions, and bask in the sassiness of the characters." --> [the only non-fiction podcast on the list]

Primordial Deep: "When a long extinct sea creature washes up on the shores of Coney Island, marine biologist Dr. Marella Morgan is contacted by a secret organization to investigate the origins of the creature’s sudden and unnatural resurgence. Soon, she and a team of experts find themselves living on the research station The Tiamat, traveling along the abyssal plains as they search for answers far below the waves. But there are dangers in these ancient waters. Reawakened, prehistoric monsters are rising from the deep -- jaws wide and waiting, and in the darkness, something is stirring."

Red Valley: "No one at Overhead Industries wants to talk about defunct research station Red Valley, and account man Warren Godby is out of his depth. When he meets Gordon Porlock, a disgruntled archivist with a bag of tapes from the station’s last known occupant, they will begin a journey to the limits of experimental science, confront horror and trauma from the past, present and future, and try to remember the cheat codes from Sonic the Hedgehog 2."

Rusty Quill Gaming: "An actual play podcast following a mixed ability group of comedians, improvisers, gamers, and writers as they play through the extended, tabletop roleplaying campaign Erasing the Line, an original game world of the GM’s crafting." --> [took me a while to get into because I have trouble focusing on non-scripted things, but eventually I got really hooked on the plot and attached to the characters. This podcast is really fucked up at times if you think about it]

SAYER: "A narrative fiction podcast set on Earth’s man-made second moon, Typhon. The eponymous SAYER is a highly advanced, self-aware AI created to help acclimate new residents to their new lives, and their new employment with Ærolith Dynamics." --> [feels like Welcome to Night Vale but narrated by GLaDOS from Portal]

StarTripper!!: "Join Feston Pyxis on a road-trip through the cosmos, as he leaves behind his old life in search of the best and wildest experiences the galaxy has to offer!"

The Amelia Project: "...is a secret agency that fakes its clients' deaths, then lets them reappear with a brand new identity! A black comedy full of secrets, twists... and cocoa."

The Big Loop: "...a biweekly anthology series. Each episode is a self-contained narrative exploring the strange, the wonderful, the terrifying, and the heartbreaking. Stories of finite beings in an infinite universe." --> [I don't like anthologies, except this one]

The Bright Sessions: "Dr. Bright provides therapy for the strange and unusual; their sessions have been recorded for research purposes." --> [think X-Men, but with therapy instead of a school]

The Deca Tapes: "Recordings have surfaced of ten people that are locked into the same space together. We don’t know where they are, or if they'll get out. But the answers must be somewhere on these tapes."

The Silt Verses: "Carpenter and Faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed god, travel up the length of their deity’s great black river, searching for holy revelations. As their pilgrimage lengthens and the river’s mysteries deepen, the two acolytes find themselves under threat from a police manhunt, but also come into conflict with the weirder gods that have flourished in these forgotten rural territories."

The White Vault: "Follow the collected records of a repair team sent to Outpost Fristed in the vast white wastes of Svalbard and unravel what lies waiting in the ice below."

Tides: "...is the story of Dr. Winifred Eurus, a xenobiologist trapped on an unfamiliar planet with hostile tidal forces. She must use her wits, sarcasm and intellectual curiosity to survive long enough to be rescued. But there might be more to life on this planet than she expected." --> [think The Martian, but on a water planet]

Unwell, a Midwestern Gothic Mystery: "Lillian Harper moves to the small town of Mt. Absalom, Ohio, to care for her estranged mother Dorothy after an injury. Living in the town's boarding house which has been run by her family for generations, she discovers conspiracies, ghosts, and a new family in the house's strange assortment of residents."

VAST Horizon: "Nolira is an agronomist tasked with establishing agriculture in a new solar system, but when she wakes up on a now- empty colony ship, the whole of her plan disappears. The ship has been set adrift, with numerous mission-critical problems requiring immediate attendance outside of her area of expertise. Nolira is aided by the ship’s malfunctioning AI, which acts as her confidant and companion during the fight for survival."

Victoriocity: "Even Greater London, 1887. In this vast metropolis, Inspector Archibald Fleet and journalist Clara Entwhistle investigate a murder, only to find themselves at the centre of a conspiracy of impossible proportions."

We Fix Space Junk: "...follows seasoned smuggler Kilner and reluctant fugitive Samantha as they travel the galaxy, dodging bullets and meeting strange and wonderful beings as they carry out odd jobs on the fringes of the law."

Welcome to Night Vale: "Twice-monthly community updates for the small desert town of Night Vale, where every conspiracy theory is true. Turn on your radio and hide."

Within the Wires: "Stories told through found audio from an alternate universe."

Wooden Overcoats: "Rudyard Funn and his equally miserable sister Antigone run their family's failing funeral parlour, where they get the body in the coffin in the ground on time. But one day they find everyone enjoying themselves at the funerals of a new competitor - the impossibly perfect Eric Chapman! With their dogsbody Georgie, and a mouse called Madeleine, the Funns are taking drastic steps to stay in the business…" --> [one of THE funniest podcasts I have ever listened to]

#ask #anon #please talk to me about podcasts at all times #podcasts #podcast recommendations

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iphoenixrising · 4 years

Note

If it's not a problem I would like to see what happens when omega Tim safe words out?

I just so in love with how you wrote him and I know you've a thing with Dr Tim and safe words but I would really appreciate if you'll give me this with omega Tim

Have a great day/night

Babe asked for O!Tim safe wording out. Taking into account how much he’s been able to take so far in my fics, then it’s apparently going to be truly something for him to safe word, right?

….or is this just another excuse to have AAANNNNNGGGGGGSSSSSSSTTTTTT.

(I regret nothing, but, well, you might, babe :D :D)

It was just supposed to be Pack support. Just the Bats realizing they had an Omega in their ranks, an Omega who had been more on the outskirts than part of the inner circle, an Omega who had been walking a long road alone. Just the Dick and Jay trying to be good Alphas and take care of him. Just giving in to those crazy instincts.

It was never supposed to hurt. It was never supposed to break him. Not like the first time when he was essentially kicked out of the Pack, when his cape was pulled out from under him, and his place became a question mark instead of a given. (Falling from Wayne Towers because Ra’s is such a douce canoe, he’d been beaten to fuck, blood loss and a real concussion to blame when he wondered if they’d bother putting up a case with his suit, if he even mattered that much to Dick, if he ever really did…)

When he presented, when he didn’t have a hint of a Pack scent, It had taken an embarrassingly long time to feel like he could get anywhere near the city. Long after he’d sent Bruce back home, telling him everything with sparse details, why there wasn’t an R on his shoulder, why he couldn’t be Batman’s sidekick anymore. He’d left all the pain locked in his chest, keeping himself as impartial as possible to deliver the hard facts, ignoring the whimpering, cowering Omega in the depths of him crying out for someone, anyone to want him, need him, keep him.

Working his way back in hadn’t been easy. Keeping his presentation under wraps with scent blockers and suppressants hadn’t been either, but there was no way in hell he was going to let something like the fact he was an Omega be the reason they wanted him back. Fuck, no.

But it happened anyway. Slowly but surely, O called him more often about cases, wanted to know if he had any helpful intel. B dropped by the Tower, more than once, to seek him out, told him how buggy the Batcomputer must be this point, but he wouldn’t really know, Tim, because you always handled that, didn’t you? Dick tentatively showed up in one of his safe houses while he riding an undercover stint, pizza and terrible B sci-fi flicks, looked crushed when Tim closed the door on him by sheer self-preservation instinct. Jason Todd showed up to fish him out of the middle of the Atlantic when a case of crimefighting gone hilariously awry ended up with a thwarted world-domination plot and his ass landed in the middle of, you know, the ocean and shit. Damian of all people demanded his presence in Gotham for the upcoming anniversary of Batcow’s induction into the family.

(When he’d blurted out, “why would you want me back? Aren’t you the one that wanted me gone in the first place? Well, I mean, got what you asked for, right? How about we pretend this conversation never happened.”

He had been in no way prepared for the demon himself to come hunt him down with a vengeance. Robin seeking him out no matter where he hopped next on the fight crime, kick ass, and take names train.)

(That kid? Seriously.)

And as much as Dick had apologized after he finally made his way back to Gotham, had said no Omega in his Pack should have been alone, without a Bat safety net (reads as: mother hen), he had seemed genuinely upset Tim had presented outside of Gotham, on his own.

Worse, he hadn’t told anyone. Hadn’t come back.

(Like he thought that was an option at the time.)

It wasn’t until later, after they found out he presented, and were…upset he’d been on his own for so long afterwards, that he’d laughed at Dick’s angry expression, shaking his head.

“Come back? Why? To what? I didn’t have any Pack scent by then, and I sure as fuck wasn’t welcome, so why bother? I did what I had to do. We got Bruce back, didn’t we?”

He hadn’t been prepared for how strongly Dick’s musk flared, how the Alpha went deadly serious, had stepped back and palmed some pellets on instinct when facing something potentially dangerous – like a pissed off, feral Alpha male.

It had taken visible effort for Dick to get a hold of his Alpha instincts, which had absolutely perplexed him at the time because really? They hadn’t been partners, allies, friends for almost two years by then.

“It was…I tried to….Tim –“

He’d just waved off the helpless sputtering because by then, it hadn’t really mattered.

“It all worked out in the end. Don’t think about it all too hard, Dick. I don’t.” Which had been an obvious lie, but had at least appeased the Alpha enough not to viciously scent him or use the dreaded octopus hold until he was cuddled within an inch of his life.

So coming back was…different. Unexpected.

Being the official Pack Omega came with Bats all over his everything. Bats coming out of the woodwork when he was starting to run down, when his Heat was approaching, when he’d been out of the city for too long.

(It was all for nothing in the end. Because they’re only after the Omega now, not the boy that used to wear the R…)

“Heat’s easier with an A, Timmers,” Jay had started that ball rolling. “Ya ever gotta need fer the real thing, betcha I know a few Alphas what might help ya out.”

“I can call some Alphas I trust if that becomes the case.” Had been off-handed in his mind, but it had been something else to see Jason’s expression smooth out, to catch the soft noise of leather when the Red Hood’s hands had clenched into fists.

But against his better judgement, he’d let them into his Heat safehouse. At first just to let them deliver Alfred goodies. Later because they wanted to stay, to spend his Heat together.

It was fine as long as they would just leave afterwards. It was fine as long as it stayed just instincts, just Alphas and an Omega. It was fine because they still treated him like Red Robin on the streets and left him alone when he went blackout on cases outside the city.

It was fine until it suddenly wasn’t.

“Gawd, sweetheart,” Jay moans against the nape of his neck, noses against the base, “ya feel s’ good. My sweet lil’ ‘Mega. My purty ‘Mega, lettin’ me in, givin’ it up ta yer Alpha. Gonna lemme be good ta ya, yeah? That’s right. Perfect fer me, ain’t cha?”

It’s his second day, so he’s with it enough to realize what Jason said.

“Yeah he is,” Dick’s fingers in his hair, nails scratching at his scalp. “He’s such a good Omega for us, isn’t he Jay? He fits so nicely between us. Our cute O–“

“Red.” Tim croaks out from under Jay’s bigger body, the wet sounds of skin slapping fast and furious. He bucks up against Jay with real strength, his eyes already getting ridiculously hot and full.

“Red, dammit! Get the hell off me!”

He yells loud enough to make Jay flinch and jerk up abruptly from where he’d been laying over Tim’s back.

Dick’s hand pauses before untangling from his hair.

And even if the Heat is still burning, his body desperate for the knot that was just seconds ago opening him up for it, Tim pulls off Jason’s Alpha cock wetly, doing it himself while both Alphas seem frozen in their spots, not sure why he would safe word out at all. He seemed to be enjoying them!

Tim’s already clawing and scrambling off the bed, careful not to touch either of them, legs wobbly, messy ass and thighs on display, feeling open and raw and needy, but his chest too tight, his lungs seemingly unable to get enough air.

The bathroom door has a lock. Not that it was much of a deterrent if the Alphas really wanted to get to him, but there’s always the window big enough for him to fit through, too small for Dick or Jay. It would give him enough of a head start anyway.

At one point, he’d pulled a towel off the rack, wrapping it around himself, sitting against the bathroom door to literally block it with his body without being consciously aware of it.

He didn’t move, stayed bare ass on the cold tile floor, concentrated on getting enough air back in his lungs, biting down on his lower lip until his eyes stop spilling over, hot and full, until his chest stops stuttering with half-sobs. Until the Omega in him calms it the utter fuck down.

Soft tapping filters through when the door vibrates against his back.

Dick’s voice filters in while the inside of his head is an utter mess. “… got some pajamas for you, and-and a sandwich. Jay made coffee. Can you let me in, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call me that,” is out of his mouth before he can stop it. “I’m not your fucking Omega. I wasn’t enough to be your partner, your brother, and I’m sure as fuck not going to be your bitch either.”

“What the fuck didja just say ta ‘im?” Jay barks from outside the door.

“It’s just instincts,” he tries to snarl but his voice is hoarse, “that’s all this is. You think I don’t know that?” The laugh is scarily unhinged, “it’s not like anyone chose me, right?”

Because honestly, that hasn’t happened his whole vigilante career.

There’s silence outside the door. Stillness. The Omega writhes inside him, still needs a knot, still wants the Alphas even though Tim knows better than to think they want anything other than a warm hole, another vigilante to share the burden, an Omega’s influence in the Pack.

(He fucking gets it.)

“Apparently, we should talk.” Dick’s voice is flat, something like anger or disappointment.

“Get out,” is what Tim says instead. “Get dressed and get the fuck out. I’ll take care of myself.”

Like I’ve always done. Even back when I wore the tunic.

“Tim, we shouldn’t–“

“No,” and his own scent had changed from candy sweet to alarmingly bitter to his own nose. “You are going to get your clothes on and leave. You two don’t see me through anymore Heats. I find someone else or take care of it myself.”

“What?!” Jay sounds floored, “what the shit is this alla sudden? Ya can’t be serious right now.”

“I’m not fucking around, Jason. You leave, or I will.”

“You can’t go out smelling like Heat!”

“I dunno what the hell’s goin’ on wit’ ya but–“

He stands up on wobbly legs, moves to push the window open, knows they’ll hear the squealing because he’s not trying to be quiet about it.

“Whoa, whoa! All right, all right, fer fuck’s sake!”

“We’re getting dressed and leaving,” Dick is right up against the door. “Don’t go out the window, Tim. We’re…we’re going to go, okay?”

“Then go. Now.” He says from the window without turning around. He can’t chance his inner Omega will push him to whine at the door, to smell like open for business, take me, love me, make me yours because that is not at all where any of them are right now.

He hears them talking, their voices getting more muted as they go back to the bedroom to apparently do as he asked.

Tim climbs out of the tub, window still up, and turns on the shower without getting in, just using the noise as a deterrent.

“Don’t like it, Dickie,” he vaguely catches as the Alphas pass by the door again. “We try ta take care a’ ‘im and that’s what the fuck he says?”

“He safe worded, Jay. What does that mean to you?”

And Tim’s throat gets tight when he thinks about the implications Dick is suggesting.

“Dunno. How ‘bout ya gimme yer theories, Detective.”

“Later. I want to make sure there’s water and Alfred meals left in the feezer.”

“Fine, them let ‘im take care of his own ass. I ain’t never took advantage of a ‘Mega in my fucking life.”

Tim doesn’t leave the bathroom until he hears the front door slam closed. He darts out long enough to reconfigure the security system, makes sure no Bats are getting in without a hell of a shock.

The rest of his Heat is utterly fucking miserable, natch.

He feels wrung out and hurt by the time it’s done and he’s ready to put on the suit again.

He doesn’t put in the Batcomm, for the first time in months, and it goes back in a drawer before he takes off out the window.

#winter rambles #don't blame me #babe is the one that asked #i'm not sorry #omega!tim #alpha!dick #alpha!jay #aob #tagged for anon #aaaangst #angst and smut #natch #dickjaytim #hurt no comfort #get your feels ready #my fic #My writing

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natthebattygeologist · 3 years

Text

A Brush with a Cursed Lily

Royal Court AU

King’s Advisor!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

A/N: So here it is, a second part to A Kiss From a Rose. I’m sorry for the wait however I got very busy with work and my university projects. I do so hope you enjoy this. It’s written slightly differently to part 1 as this is all from the Reader’s POV.

I just want to thank @cockslut-padalecki for allowing me to write part 1 as part of the #notmyninth writing challenge and I hope that this angsty follow up does A Kiss From a Rose proud.

Word Count: 2208

Warnings: Angst, angst, more angst, some light fluff, swearing, implied smut, grief, mentions of loss.

Reader’s POV

I ran around chasing after the little squirt who was currently avoiding his bath-time before tripping up and landing square on my backside in a patch of tall Calla Lilies. They were a stunning shade of deep violet and brought back the memories of 6 summers ago. The day I was married off to my best-friend, Steve Rogers, Lord of Rosebury-upon-Sale. I chuckled to myself as my husband rounded the corner of the orangery with our son, covered in mud head to toe, a huge smile plastered on his face. The last few years had been trying at times, and unbearable in others but somehow, we managed to make it through.

“Frolicking in the flowers are we, my petal?” A deep laugh resonated from Steve’s chest as he took in the sight of me, dishevelled and dirtied from my tumble.

“Yes, it’s a rather delightful hobby I have found. Quite the thrilling end to chasing our little gremlin child. Now if you would be so inclined as to help your pregnant wife out of the flower bed, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Come now love, you know I love to see you in a fluster, but I suppose it would do the baby no good leaving you there.”

I took the hand he so graciously offered me and took our muddied little boy from his father’s hold.

“Now honestly Charlie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Prince as muddy and dirty as you are right now, you little rascal. Let’s get you cleaned up and fed, then maybe we can go and visit Uncle James before bedtime.”

----------------- 4 Years Earlier----------------

The King summoned us back to court, and what was meant to be a joyous visit quickly became a permanent stay. Upon our arrival we were greeted by a bleary-eyed Prince and an equally as troubled Princess. The King was dying and had called upon his advisor to help prepare for Bucky’s transition into power. To anyone else nothing would’ve seemed amiss, except it was.

When James’ back was turned, I had witnessed Princess Maia acting rather strangely, gathering bouquets of foxglove and trimmings of deadly nightshade. I was almost certain of her intentions but feared my own safety and so kept it to myself, until one night where I couldn’t bear the burden this knowledge held over me any longer.

“Steve, my love, I have something troubling my mind.” My voice came out a hushed and broken whisper.

“What worries you so my petal? I know it hasn’t been easy for you being back, and having to pretend to like Maia, I assure you that I am always here to listen to you and love you.”

“Well, you see, I think I know why the King is sick. On several occasions I have witnessed the Princess with my own eyes gathering bouquets of foxglove and cuttings from the nightshade bush down by the lily patch. I worry that she is poisoning the King, taking advantage of both his and James’ compromised states to hold a sway over decisions that will likely see our kingdom lost to that of her own father.”

I spoke confidently now, having been an integral part of the court for all my childhood. Steve knew better than to question my knowledge of how things ran. He also knew that I would be one of the first to notice if anything was awry, be that with the account books or even the numbers of armed men stationed at each watchtower. After the death of his wife the King only had James as an heir, and so, he vowed that in case any ill befall him I would also be trained, so that if required, I could become a successful Queen someday.

“Steve, I do believe wholeheartedly that this is all a set-up and that we have been blindly infiltrated by our enemy. Things aren’t adding up. The number of guards stationed at The Keep has been halved in sized since the King has fallen ill. It leaves the West of the kingdom in a precarious position. One where an attack could easily happen and be kept quiet. I don’t like the look of it, any of it, and something needs to be done before we are conquered, you are killed, and me resigned to a life of slavery and servitude at the hands of the despicable Wyvern family.” My voice broke and a sob tore through me at the thought of losing everything I have left to the family that has already taken so much from me, starting with my mother shortly after I was born.

“Hush my petal. Tears will do nothing to fix this. The King is aware of the situation, however in our absence the Prince has changed, and he has become blinded by his love for ‘his lily’, though I daresay snake would be the better term for that venomous bitch.” A scoff escaped Steve’s lips before he continued. “The reason the King summoned us is because he has seen what fate has befallen James. He has made his bed, albeit a rather uncomfortable bed, and now he will have to lie in it. The King wishes for you to become Queen after his passing. He wants to stop the plans of Maia’s family before their tendrils of poison can run further into our kingdom than they already have. You my love can bring all this to an end, and I believe you would be able to unite the Kingdoms in a peaceful treaty that could last.”

I curled up into Steve’s side placing a chaste kiss to his lips. He returned it with a hunger and passion before carding his fingers through my hair and tracing them along my jaw.

“Please my petal, let me chase away your worries, after all, if you are to be Queen, we shall need to work on producing some heirs.”

A smirk befell his lips before he ducked his head, nipping at my neck, knowing full well that I would cave to his carnal desires.

--------------- Present Day -------------

After having cleaned up the mucky Prince, Steve and I walked with him through the gardens as evening began to draw in. Fireflies filled the air as we made the trek to the rose garden. As a child it had been mine and Bucky’s favourite place to hide, and on more than one occasion hugs and kisses had been exchanged.

Today this garden holds a whole new meaning as at its centre, beneath a beautiful weeping willow, lay James’ grave.

------------- 3 Years Earlier ------------

Before the King’s passing, he ordered his kings-guard to imprison and execute the Princess for treason against the throne. She was hung at The Keep as a warning to her family that they were next. Their years of planning and scheming had come to an abrupt and distasteful end.

What the Wyverns deemed as an unlawful murder incited a full war between our Kingdoms, it saw both Steve and Bucky fighting on the front lines with me at the helm, as Queen. Soon I had treaties signed with other Kingdoms aligning us for generations to come, until the only one stood against the alliance was the Kingdom of the Serpents. The battle of Roseknappe in the Western borders was the bloodiest battle of all. By this time, I was no longer part of frontline action as I was holed up in the castle under the watchful protection of my elite Queens-guard. When news got out that I was with child the Wyverns stopped at nothing to try and kill me or at the least cause me harm enough for my body to rid itself of the heir I now lovingly grew inside of me. But they needn’t have worried.

When I was around 5 months along tragedy struck our kingdom. The arrival of my husband looking grey in pallor, with sunken eyes and covered in injuries was the first sign that something was very wrong. When the two had left to fight they rode off, side by side, settling any grievances they had over the arranged marriages and uniting to fight to save the Kingdom and keep me on the throne. Steve’s return signalled the end of an era and feelings in my gut that had been dormant for years surfaced in cry of grief so great that it silenced the birdsong for days. Although James was not King, he was still a beloved Prince. My first love and the person who would forever hold a piece of my heart.

In my grief-stricken state I had fallen and managed to land with the sharp riser of the marble stairs squarely in my abdomen. The shock I was in meant that I hadn’t noticed the blood that began pooling nor do I remember what happened over the next few weeks as the doctors and healers frantically worked to keep me alive.

“Steve? Steve? Where’s James? I…. I want to see him. I…” I was interrupted by Steve coming over and pulling me tight to his chest.

“Praise to the Old Gods, my petal, are you okay? Are you in any pain?” worry had seeped into his tone and what looked to be a pang of guilt crossed his normally stoic face. “My love, how much do you remember of the last three weeks?”

A confused expression befell my features before Steve decided to continue.

“Oh, my sweet love, James... James isn’t coming back. The fight at Roseknappe, he saved my life by taking the arrow that was meant to pierce my heart, he sacrificed himself because he wanted me to be able to return to you, so I could love you the way he was never allowed to. So that I could raise a family and keep our Kingdom strong. He died in my arms after begging me to pass you on this letter that he wrote, almost as if he knew he wouldn’t make it back from this war.”

Fresh tears began to fall as Steve handed me the bloodied paper.

My dearest Rose,

How I wish things had been different, and that it was I that got to hold you in my arms at the end of the aisle. I begged my father to change his mind, but he wouldn’t budge. I will never forgive myself for the horrid things I said to you when father made you queen. I was poisoned by the words of a traitor and knowing now I hurt the one true love of my life is the reason why I will fight so hard to save you.

If you are reading this it means I am gone my sweet girl. I know that you will grieve me but please, for my sake as much as your own, I want you to love Steve as wholly as you once loved me. I beg of you to take care of yourself and to keep me close as you grow through the years. I am sorry I will not be there to see my little nieces and nephews, but I know that you and Steve will be the most wonderful parents.

That day in the rose garden, after your first dance in front of the court, when I kissed you. I wanted to tell you then just how much I loved you, but I couldn’t do it. It’s almost as if in my heart I knew you would never truly be mine.

I love you my Rose and I will see you in the next life,

Your Prince,

Bucky

4 months later after grieving the loss of the Prince, the Kingdom was celebrating, not just a victory of war and a long lasting treaty of peace, but the birth of their future King.

Prince Charlie James Buchanan Rogers, heir to the throne of Rosehall and Duke of Snowblossom Grove.

----------- Present Day ----------

“…… and that is the story of how your brave Uncle James battled the terrifying Wyverns to protect your mummy.”

I could hear Steve talking with Charlie as I sat on the bench staring blankly at the grave, wishing with every ounce of strength that I could, hoping to gain just one more moment with my soulmate.

“Come Charlie, let’s get you into bed, then tomorrow we can go riding and Papa can show you the waterfall where him and Uncle James decided to scare me into thinking that your Papa had drowned. Really, they just wanted mummy to go swimming with them, but they knew I wouldn’t go unless there was an emergency.”

After settling Charlie into bed, I took a stroll around the halls before heading to my shared chambers. Laying on the bed next to Steve he protectively wrapped his arms around me, as if he could shield me from the pain the world would throw at me.

“I love you Steven Grant Rogers. It may have taken me a while but, I have always cared for you, and I vow to you now that I will love you until my dying breath.”

“I know my petal, as I will love you, and Charlie, and this little one that we have yet to meet, until mine.”

Taglist: (My Humble Peeps)

@missyredbean

#steve x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #royal court #notmyninth

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eiressofinspirationwrites · 4 years

Text

Shaken

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count: 2691

Description: What was supposed to be a simple trip to a crime scene goes awry.

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

"Reid and Y/n, go to the Vallas house," Hotch instructed, "See if there's anything that may have been missed that could help us with building a profile."

"You got it," you nodded as you gathered up the papers you'd scattered across the table and neatly placed them back in their folder.

"We'll call if we find anything," Spencer said as you shoved the folder into your bag.

"Come on pretty boy," you teased him as you stood and headed for the door, "I'll drive."

"Can we please follow the rules of the road this time?" Spencer asked as he followed after you, "You nearly killed us last time you drove us somewhere."

"I did not," you shot back, "Quit being a drama queen."

"You sure it's a good idea to send those two off on their own? Together," Rossi asked Hotch as they watched the team's two youngest members head out.

"They'll be fine," Hotch assured him, "They're good at their jobs."

"Oh I know that but you have noticed their, um, budding relationship haven’t you?" Rossi asked.

“Of course I have,” Hotch said, the faintest hint of a smile pulled at his lips, “You’d have to be blind not to.”

"It is rather amusing that they think they can hide their relationship from a team filled with profilers,” Rossi chuckled and shook his head, “Kids.”

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

"See, Spence, we crossed the entire city and we made it to our destination alive," you said as you parked the car in front of the Vallas home.

"You broke 7 traffic laws on the 10.5 mile drive here," Spencer pointed out.

"You're full of it," you rolled your eyes as you let yourself out of the vehicle.

"I am not," Spencer defended himself as he waited for you to join him on the sidewalk, "I know every traffic law for this area and I'm telling you that you broke 7 of them."

"Whatever," you waved him off as you both walked up the front sidewalk.

Spencer opened his mouth to respond but you both slowed your walk at nearly the same time, "Y/n."

"I see it," you said as you drew your gun, keeping your eyes on the slightly open front door, "Somebody is inside."

"I'll take the front," Spencer said as he drew his revolver, "You take the back."

"We should call and wait for backup," you said, "It would only take a few minutes for them to arrive."

"Whoever left that door open could escape by then if they're still inside," Spencer argued.

"Fine," you relented after a moment’s deliberation, "I'll take the back.

You quickly made your way around the side of the house but while doing so you made the call for backup anyway. After letting yourself in the backdoor, you started to clear the rooms making your way towards the front of the house.

You'd just cleared the last room on the bottom floor when you heard a gunshot from upstairs.

You spun towards the stairs, weapon at the ready. Heart pounding and your senses going on high alert.

Seconds later you saw someone at the top of the stairs.

"FBI! Stop!" You yelled at the man.

He did in fact stop on the third step from the top but the man raised his gun at you and fired.

Without hesitation you fired two rounds at him. Both bullets met their target and the man collapsed and slid down the stairs.

You kicked his gun away and checked for a pulse. When you found one you removed the handcuffs from your belt and cuffed the man to the banister.

Once he was secure, you sprinted up the stairs yelling, "SPENCER!"

You started to panic when you didn't get a response. Your heart stopped when you reached the top and saw Spencer on the floor several feet down the hall.

"Spence!" You exclaimed and rushed to his side.

You fell to your knees beside him and were relieved to find that he was still breathing and had a pulse but he was unconscious.

You quickly located the source of the blood staining his shirt and applied pressure to it.

"You've gotta hang on, Spence," you said as you struggled to maintain your composure, "Help will be here soon. Okay? Just hang on.I’m calling for help right now."

Using one hand you pulled out your phone and called for an ambulance.

You weren't sure how long it took but when you heard sirens outside and footsteps downstairs, you called out, "I've got an agent down up here!"

"Y/n!" You heard a familiar voice call from downstairs.

"Morgan! Up here!" You yelled back.

A few seconds later Morgan appeared at the top of the stairs and Rossi was right behind him.

"What happened?" Morgan asked.

"I don't know," you shook your head as you maintained pressure on Reid's wound, "the door was open when we got here and then when we were clearing the house I heard a gunshot fired up here and..."

You paused as a sob finally slipped out, "I never should have left his side."

"Hey, it's not your fault," Morgan tried to reassure you.

"Where are the damn paramedics?" You asked, ignoring his reassurances.

"I’m sure they'll be here any minute," Morgan said gently, "Let me take over and Rossi will get you cleaned up. Okay?"

"I c-can't leave him," you hiccuped.

"I'll come get you before the ambulance leaves and you can ride with him to the hospital, okay?"

"Okay," you nodded.

"Okay, on three remove your hands," Derek said, "One, two, three."

You did as told and let Derek take over.

"Come on kid," Rossi said gently, as he helped you off the floor, "Let's get you cleaned up."

You let Rossi silently lead you downstairs to the kitchen.

As you scrubbed Spencer's blood from your hands you recounted the events that had transpired before they had arrived.

"I never should have agreed to going in without back up," you muttered.

"You can't beat yourself up over this," Rossi said, "There's nothing you could have done to stop it and you stopped the guy who did this from escaping."

"What if Spencer dies?" You asked as tears started to flow, "I can't lose him, Rossi."

"Hey, it'll be okay, kid" Rossi placed a comforting hand on your arm, "Reid is tougher than he looks. You know that. He will be just fine.”

You started to say something but your eyes widened when you noticed blood on the hand Rossi had just removed from your shoulder, “Did you cut your hand?”

“No, I didn’t” Rossi said as he noticed the blood as well, “Were you shot too?”

“I didn’t think so,” you blinked in shock, “The suspect shot at me but I thought it had missed.”

“Let me see,” Rossi said and helped you remove your coat and blazer, “You definitely took a round to your arm.”

“Oh,” you said as you saw the blood coming out of a hole in your bicep.

Rossi pulled a handful of paper towels off of a nearby roll and applied them to your arm.

"They're taking Reid to the ambulance now," Morgan said as he popped into the kitchen, with Hotch on his heels.

"They’re taking this one to get treated too," Rossi said, “She took a round to the arm.”

“What?!” Morgan was taken aback, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t notice,” you said, taking over applying pressure to your injury from Rossi.

“I’ll take her to the ambulance,” Hotch said, you nodded and silently exited the kitchen with him.

"How's she holding up?" Morgan asked Rossi.

"She's shaken," Rossi sighed, "This is the first time she's been involved in a shooting like this. Doesn't help matters that she and Reid are so close."

"They'll both be fine," Morgan said, "They're both tougher than they realize."

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

A few hours later the team gathered at the hospital to check in on you and Spencer.

"Hotch," Morgan said as he and the rest of the team entered the waiting room, "Anything?"

"Spencer is still in surgery," Hotch said, he'd ridden to the hospital in an ambulance with the suspect that you had shot, so he'd been there the entire time, "but the man Y/n shot died in surgery about 40 minutes ago."

"Well she did the entire city a favor," Prentiss said, "We're pretty sure that he was our unsub. We've gone through his entire life and he fits our profile perfectly."

"Where is Y/n anyway?" JJ asked.

"She's over there," Hotch turned and pointed to where you were curled up in a ball across a couple of the chairs, Hotch's jacket draped over you as a blanket, "The doctors patched her arm up. It was only a fragment of the bullet that lodged itself in her arm. The round had ricocheted and broke into several pieces. She only just fell asleep about 30 minutes ago. She just kind of shut down after we got the news about the suspect dying."

"That's the first person she's ever killed, isn't it?" Prentiss asked.

"It is," Hotch nodded, "She's experiencing many conflicting emotions right now."

"That's to be expected," Rossi said.

"Yes, now all we have to do is wait for an update on Reid," Hotch said.

It took quite a while longer before a doctor came out to provide an update on Spencer but the second the doc called for them you were awake and off of the chairs faster than lightning.

"How is he," you asked and listened carefully to the doctor as he explained Spencer’s injury and surgery.

"He's got a long road to recovery ahead of him but I'm confident he will make it through just fine," the doctor finished and the entire team let out a sigh of relief.

"Can I see him?" You asked.

"Once he is set up in his own room, a nurse will come find you," the doctor said.

"I understand," you nodded, "Thank you."

Once Spencer's doctor started to leave you turned back to the rest of the team.

"He's going to be okay," Morgan pulled you into a hug, "Just like we told you."

“I was so scared,” you whispered into Morgan’s shoulder.

“And that’s okay,” Morgan said, “You’ve been through a lot today.”

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

You waited with the rest of the team listening to them discuss the case, but your thoughts were wandering elsewhere. Mostly just to Spencer and what you would have done if things had gone any differently today.

In your line of work, you saw plenty of death but this was the first time you’d been confronted with the possibility of the body in the morgue being one of your friends. You tried not to dwell on it now that you knew Spencer was going to be okay but it was hard trying to direct your thoughts other places.

When you did pull your mind away from Spencer it drifted right into thinking about the man you’d killed. There was no doubt that it had been a justified kill but it was your first. Thankfully before you could dwell on that too much a nurse appeared to take you to Spencer.

“I’m sorry but we can only allow one person back at a time,” the nurse apologized.

“That’s okay,” Morgan said, “Y/n, go right ahead. We have to get back to wrapping up the case now that we know you both are going to be okay.”

“Thank you,” you sighed gratefully before allowing the nurse to escort you from the waiting room.

The young woman led you to Spencer’s room and you wasted no time before collapsing into the chair in the corner beside the bed. The nurse said something to you but your eyes were focused on Spencer and you didn’t really hear what you said. You just nodded and that apparently satisfied the nurse because she left you alone and went back to the nurse’s station.

You just sat there watching Spencer’s chest rise and fall with his breathing, taking comfort in the simple action because it meant that he was still alive.

The two of you had been dating behind the team’s back for months now and had been planning on telling them soon but judging by the looks they’d been giving you since the shooting you got the feeling they already knew. You and Spence would likely have to make it official to them at some point but that could wait until he was out of the hospital.

Eventually, watching the steady rise and fall of Spencer’s breathing lulled you to sleep and you didn’t wake up again until many hours later. The sound of two voices speaking in hushed tones pulled you from your sleep.

Once the sleep fog cleared a bit and you opened your eyes, you realized that it was Morgan and he was talking to Spencer.

“You’re awake!” you exclaimed excitedly.

“I have been for a bit,” Spencer gave you a small smirk, “You were sound asleep when I did. The nurse had to call Morgan for me so I could get an update on the case.”

“I’m sorry, Spence,” you apologized as you reached out and wove your hands together, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“From what Morgan was telling me, you needed that rest,” Spencer said and you could see the concern in his eyes.

“It’s barely a scratch,” you shrugged.

“Scratches can hurt like hell too,” Morgan said, “but now that you’re both awake, I’m going to go. Give you two some alone time.”

“You don’t have to go,” you tried to convince him but he waved you off.

“Don’t sweat it, kid,” Morgan said as he hovered by the door, “There are still a few loose ends to tie up back at the station with reports and what not.”

“I could come back and help,” you offered.

“No, you and lover boy are going to stay right here,” Morgan ordered, “You two have been through enough with this case.”

“I really don’t-” before you could finish your sentence Morgan disappeared out into the hall, “He is absolutely frustrating sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

“He has his moments,” you laughed.

“He told me that you were pretty worried about me,” Spencer said seriously.

“Of course I was worried about you,” you said, “I love you and it was my fault for not having your back. If I had lost you-”

“Nothing you could have done would have prevented this, Y/n,” Spencer cut you off, “I didn’t even have time to react before I was shot. The only thing that could have gone differently was if you had been behind me, he likely would have shot you and it would have been worse than just a fragment to the arm.”

“If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it’s not doing a very good job,” you frowned.

“I know,” Spencer gave your hand a small squeeze, “but we shouldn’t dwell on the what ifs. We’re both alive and that’s what matters.”

“You’re right,” you admitted.

“I always am,” he smiled.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes but you were smiling, glad to still have him giving you a hard time.

“So, who do you think is going to be the first to ask how long we’ve been dating,” Spencer asked, “there’s no way they haven’t figured out that we’re a couple after all of this.”

“My money is on Penelope,” you said without hesitation.

“Really?” Spencer said skeptically, “I think it will be Morgan.”

“Wanna make a friendly bet?” you asked, “Winner gets to pick our next date night theme.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Spencer smiled.

“Seal it with a kiss?” you asked.

“Always,” Spencer grinned this time and you leaned in carefully.

Something about the warmth and familiarity of his lips on yours, helped a large portion of the weight that had been on your shoulders since the shooting disappear. By the time you both pulled apart, you were both a bit breathless but were smiling like fools and happy to still have each other.

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

Part 2

#cw blood #cw gun violence #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #female reader insert #spencer reid x female reader

277 notes · View notes

antihero-writings · 3 years

Text

The Boy with the Unspeakable Name (Ch1)

Fandom: Harry Potter (and the Chamber or Secrets)

Fic Summary: Tom Riddle may have won his battle with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, but there were a few unforeseen consequences; loss of Tom’s memory being the most obnoxious of them. Is it possible to stop Tom’s past from becoming his future? Or is the young Tom Riddle doomed to repeat his mistakes?

Notes: I’ve actually had this idea ever since the first or second time I read Chamber of Secrets. Though Tom has never been my favorite character, I found young Tom interesting, and I always thought things would have gone differently if he had come back when he was Harry’s age. I was always curious if he could have been redeemed if things had gone this way. Now, I know JK Rowling purposely wanted to create an irredeemable villain, so she wouldn’t have redeemed him even then, but I wanted to write a fic playing with that idea myself.

Despite having had this idea for a long time, I didn’t write it because I was afraid I’d bite off more than I could chew, and wouldn’t finish. But this last time I read Chamber of Secrets, I decided I’d just go for it. I’m still afraid I won’t finish, as this is the longest premise of any of my fics posted, (and I haven’t finished any of my other, shorter, long fics…) but I didn’t want that to stop me from at least trying out the idea. Even if I don’t finish it, at least I’ll have something to show for it!

All that being said, if you like this fic and do want me to continue please consider commenting, and/or reblogging. Sometimes one comment can mean the difference between me continuing, and me leaving the fic behind. It really helps to know people are interested.

Above art from the internet.

Chapter 1:

He didn’t know how fitting it was.

Tom Riddle didn’t know just how fitting it was that the first two things he sensed after waking up were the sound of crying, and the stench of blood.

He didn’t remember how much of his past—or perhaps one could call it his future—was comprised of tears, blood, muffled screaming, and the words avada kadavra! hissed in a cold, high voice that was surely not his own.

Right now, he didn’t remember much of anything at all.

Sixteen years or sixty, he remembered none of pain, the loss, or the victory.

All he knew in this moment was that world was damp and cold, it smelled like death, and someone was weeping.

That was the world to him; an ink spill on living canvas. A hole made in screaming pages.

The sound of weeping was the first thing he knew in this new life—(or this old life, made new)—it echoed and filled the place—whatever the place was—like the slow drip of water in an empty cave; tiny on its own, mistakable in a crowd, but sharp, vast, and overpowering when the world was hollow.

And the world did feel hollow.

He did not wake to a warm, dry hospital bed, a fire, and a heap of get-well cards. His family did not surround him, showering him with love and gratitude, asking what he did and did not remember, and what had happened to their sweet boy. No one held up pictures, pointing to the scenes and people within them fervently demanding remember?!, praying amnesia would leave him sooner rather than later.

Instead he woke to a place in which every sensation burned: cold searched for weaknesses in his damp cloak and slithered across his skin; the smell of blood bored into his nostrils, enough he could almost taste it; and the longer he heard the wailing it burned in his ears too.

Burned because it hurt his heart not just his ears? Because it was sad? Because it mattered, and he needed to know what was wrong?

Surely not.

Burned because it was annoying, and he wanted to shut it up. Burned because it wasn’t a nice sound to wake up to, and whoever they were ought to have more courtesy for orphan boys who just wanted to wake up in peace.

Everything burned because something about feeling, sensing anything at all, was…oddly unfamiliar. Not strange as in a new way; it was like something he once knew well that had been forgotten, left behind for a while, like nostalgia.

And if simply living was this foreign…how long had it been since he was last alive? How long had he been a ghost? And what brought him back to his body?

He opened his eyes.

Sight didn’t change the impression he had received from his other senses; mostly it just added ‘dark’ to the list of not-very-nice things the world was made of. And due to this fact, sight didn’t burn nearly as much as his other senses. Still, the world was crisper, more colorful, somehow, despite its drab nature…

He was in a chamber, a dungeon of sorts—probably underground. Stones and statues, turned brownish-green in the humid atmosphere, lined the walls. Snakes poked their heads out at him from the walls, their eyes glittering as if they’d come alive at any moment. And before him was a particularly large statue of a man.

But, as he sat up, his clothing—long, black robes, with a green patch on the chest—clinging to him uncomfortably, there were a few things sight showed him worth noting:

The first, most obvious, was the gigantic snake lying beneath the statue some ways down the chamber, its scaly green tail glistening in the low light. It was clearly dead; lying still, its belly up. There was blood where its lifeless eyes had been scratched blind, and a hole in the roof of in its gaping mouth, one of its front fangs missing. This was most likely the source of the foul smell. How long had it been dead? Couldn’t have been long, considering the other things around the room…

The second, what may have once been a book. This one was very close to himself. Its pages were ripped out of their bindings, in shreds, surrounding him like fresh snowfall. The leather cover had many holes and gashes in it, apparently made by the missing fang, which also lay beside the book, blackened ink on its tip—(but can words bleed?)—the book mutilated beyond repair. This was one of the strangest sights. It was almost as if someone—probably the person crying—blamed it for their problems and took their anger out on it, before that anger became the sorrow that resonated through the chamber now.

The third was a gleaming orange and red bird, long tail feathers unfurled on the floor, like a flame, its head held high, sitting quietly beside the mourner. It didn’t look like it didn’t belonged in such a grim place—like a rich person walking in a slum.

There was another glittering thing beside him: a silver sword with jewels encrusted in the hilt. This was likely the cause of the snake’s death, especially considering it had blood coating it.

A little way from it was a pile of raggedy brown fabric. …He couldn’t quite tell what it was supposed to be.

The sixth: the source of the crying, a boy. He had unruly black hair, and his black robes—(the same robes, he noted, that he himself was wearing, or very similar)—were christened with the blood and slime of beasts—(and maybe men, he couldn’t know)—and ink. He was possessed by the demon that was tragedy; his entire form shaking, heaving, whether from sadness or rage, or both, only time, and a healthy dose of good questioning would tell.

The last thing of note, and what was most likely the source of the tears: a corpse. A girl specifically, with red hair—almost as fiery as the bird’s feathers—ashen skin, and, once again, the black robes—(must be a uniform of some sort). Perhaps they were at a school? Quite a dreary school it was, if so. She was small, apparently young.

The scene was both a lot, and not much, to go on.

Three living things—one without memory, another without peace—two dead, and four inanimate, one of the inanimate things more mauled than any of the living or dead.

His mind started to provide theories about the scene,

Theory one:

The snake had killed the girl, the boy had taken up the sword and killed it in outrage.

Made sense, but that still left the diary, the bird, and himself. As well as the pile of fabric…

He didn’t see the bird having a big role in this; his best guess was that it belonged to the boy, as it seemed loyal to him, sharing his grief, and that its role was the scratch marks on the snake’s eyes, helping the boy defeat it.

Theory two: The girl had written something in her diary the boy didn’t like, perhaps something about he himself. He had torn the diary apart, and in a jealous rage sent his pet snake after her, but regretted it after the snake went too far and killed her, and decided to kill it after all.

Theory three: Reverse of roles; the diary was the boy’s, and she had found it, and he was either mad she found it and tore it, or she had after finding something she didn’t like in it, potentially about him, and the offended party let loose the snake.

Theory four: The snake belonged to neither of them, it was by accident they happened to wake it, or stumble into its home while fighting about this diary.

But why did they find an underground chamber the best place for an argument? Did they live here? Was this a normal place for them to spend time? Like some sort of secret hideaway? Were they in hiding from something?

Four(a): Or else were they on some quest to find it—was the snake guarding treasure? Did the diary hold the map to it, and they tore it simply to keep anyone else from finding it, or else falling into the same trap?

Theory five: The diary was his own; not the boy's or the girl's. He had some relationship to one or both of them that went awry.

Five(a): The snake was his own, and he had set it loose on the girl for some reason, perhaps he was the jealous and angry party here.

Theory six: The snake didn’t kill the girl.

Six(a): She was already dead or dying before the snake even arrived. Maybe the snake's venom, or something else about this chamber, was meant to cure her and failed.

Six(b): The boy killed her. Perhaps in his aforementioned jealous rage he had took the sword to her himself, and now he regretted it.

Six(c): He himself killed her.

He sat up, blinking at the dreary universe. The boy didn’t hear him, just kept on crying. It was a very tiresome noise to hear so constantly.

He reached over and, quietly as possible, drew the diary closer. What made its disfigurement all the stranger was that every page he could see appeared blank. People didn’t usually have qualms with blank diaries—it was the words that people were so touchy about.

When he lifted up the cover, he could see beneath the gashes a name: Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The sight of the name sent a curious sensation through his stomach; he didn’t remember who it belonged to, but the name set a fire boiling in his gut, a bubbling, swirling, writhing fire within him. A fire that threatened to destroy everything around it too.

He looked up at the mourner. Was that his name? Or was the girl, in fact, a very petite, long-haired boy? Did the diary belong to no one present, and it was the secrets within, not the owner, that mattered? But there were no words at all, let alone any secrets…

Or…was it perhaps his own? His own name that he didn’t even remember.

Sitting here theorizing wasn’t going to get him any closer to the truth.

It didn’t seem like a good idea to disturb the boy in his grief, but he didn’t have much choice—losing your memory is an ordeal of its own, you know.

He got to his feet—this sensation too didn’t feel completely mundane to him. Everything felt nostalgic—like in some fond childhood he walked, and smelled, and saw, and heard, but as he grew up, sense left him, and he forgot what it meant to be alive. His damp clothes clung to his body, making him shiver.

His footstep broke the atmosphere; the first new sound in the stagnant place, the pieces of peace cutting through the tears. The boy gasped—the kind of raw gasp, full of dread and despair, one takes when they realize the dragon is awake.

But the dragon in this particular chamber was slain…

His slow steps filled the chamber, an ominous repetition, the ticking of a clock.

When he got close, the boy’s hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword, the metal twinkling in the dim light, scraping and clattering on the stone as it moved.

“I’d stay back if I were you,” his voice was soft but solid, dangerous, wet with tears, shaking with rage, hoarse from screaming.

He stopped. He didn’t know what that meant, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

Hmm…What to ask? ‘Why’s that?’ ‘What happened here?’ ‘Who are you, who was she, and, while you’re at it, who am I?’

The scene was still fresh; if he touched the embers it might reignite.

“And…If you were me, what would you do?” he decided to ask. Speech, words forming on his tongue, felt odd too… but it was the sound of his voice that caught him most off guard…why? Had he been expecting to hear something different?

It was an odd question; he could tell the boy wasn’t expecting it. He paused. Then he scoffed,

“I’ll never be like you.” Then his voice grew quiet and dangerous, “But if I were in your place…I would run. As far away as I could, and as fast as I could, before I found out what the famous Harry Potter is capable of when you take something important from him.”

An even odder response.

The boy turned. One of his most defining features was the circular-rimmed, cracked glasses he wore. That, and the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, which was red and irritated. Seeing this scar, for some reason, made ire rise in Tom’s throat too. His glasses shielded eyes of a bright green which also heralded from a distant memory.

Bright, but dark. A green that pierced the veil of shadows, yet reflected the rest of the world. He wondered if he had ever seen such hatred in someone’s eyes before, in that past he didn’t remember. They burned as bright as the bird by his side, bright as the girl’s hair. They were bright enough to set the chamber ablaze, dark enough to enact the threats in all the room’s corners. Yet his name didn’t immediately come to mind.

Harry Potter. That was what he said his name was. Once said aloud, the name was more familiar than sensation itself; a burning scar upon his mind, never quite healed. The name was rage, and humiliation itself to him…though he couldn’t place the source of these emotions; no memories came to mind.

They were enemies.

Only two names he knew so far, and both sent the same sort of mad fury through him. Curious.

He couldn’t be more than twelve years old. Twelve years old was quite the young age to be defeating monsters, watching girls die, and to hold such hatred in one’s eyes. Very young to be so hated by he himself.

He was just a kid. Did this Harry Potter really deserve all this?

Why did they hate each other so much? Was it normal for him to hate twelve-year-old boys?

Come to think of it, how old was he himself? He sounded young, not much older than him. But he didn’t feel young.

Why did he hate him so much?

It was starting to look like Theory six(c) might be the most likely.

He didn’t take his advice. He didn’t know much about himself, but he didn’t think he was one to take people’s advice, especially not that of his enemies. In ignorant defiance he took a step forward.

“Stay back!” Harry Potter barked, as vicious as a loyal guard dog.

That same hatred he felt buzzed behind his words.

Another step.

He held up the sword.

“I’m warning you.” Tom knew the threat in his voice was very real.

Yet he came closer. Close enough to see the face of the girl.

He didn’t recognize her. Predictable, but aggravating. He had hoped that perhaps seeing her would bring him to his senses. Alas, she was just a dead girl.

He leaned in closer.

“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!!” the boy’s words, along with the sword, were at his throat without a second to spare.

He simply flicked his gaze to him; no sign of shock or emotion at his outburst on his features.

The world must burn for this boy too. Burn, not because of sensation itself was strange, but because what he felt was currently was too much to bear.

Hatred, horror, heartbreak…hell. It all blazed and overflowed in his eyes.

He backed up one step, then another, and kept backing away until the sword was no longer close to his skin. Harry could have easily followed him, keeping the threat alive, but it seemed staying by the girl, protecting her lifeless body was his highest priority—Why? What could he possibly do now that she was dead? Was he prone to mutilate dead girls? Was his touch repugnant enough on its own to warrant such violence?

The anger was still white-hot, but confusion was in the boys’ eyes too now.

Yes, six(c) seemed pretty likely.

So, how had he lost his memory? He himself didn’t seem hurt in the slightest physically, he didn’t even have so much as a spitting headache to tell him he’d knocked his head hard enough to lose his memory. It didn’t appear as though he and the boy had dueled, despite the indication they were opponents, and the sword in his hand. Nothing indicated how he could lose his memory, or why…or, come to think of it, why he was still alive.

If it was true he had killed her, that they were enemies, why hadn’t Harry killed him in his sleep? He surely had the chance, in the midst of all the wailing. Why didn’t he walk up to him, send that sword through him and be done with it? Why didn’t he fight him, run him through, now? Tom was clearly unarmed, and Harry was likely the one who killed the snake, clearly he had the upper hand, the power to do so. It all made too much sense.

He could tell he wanted to.

…The diary. It must be connected to everything. Would it reveal the truth of the situation, and his lost memories? Everything seemed to trace back to it. From the looks of things, it was the source of the scene…and it was the most confusing part of the scenario. If he started with it, perhaps he could get somewhere.

He sauntered back to it, crouched down and picked up the mangled cover, staring at the name, the holes where someone—presumably Harry—had stabbed it, a few blank pages hanging limply out of the binding. But why would he hurt an inanimate diary?

“Who’s Tom Riddle?” he asked.

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vicarfelix · 3 years

Text

A Team Matter

Felix Millstone x Fem. Captain

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,036

“This is our mission. You just happen to be the captain of it.”

Her team was like family to her. From the young and youthful Parvati to the auto mechanic SAM, every single one of her crew had a special place in her heart. Truth be told, none of the missions she had been on so far would’ve been possible without their help along the way. The Captain admired their hard work ethic and their loyalty. It was rare for any of them to question her judgement or decision making. Whatever she would do or say, they would be there to back her up. That was truly special to her.

That wasn’t to say that they didn’t bump heads with each other every now and then. That was life in a nutshell. It was impossible to get along all the time. 6 different people and 1 robot...all with completely different personalities. It was inevitable for there to be tension and disagreements at times.

The person who had grinded the Captain’s gears today was none other than the esteemed priest himself. She respected Max a lot. She put a lot of faith into him. He had an interesting backstory that had a couple of holes in it. She knew he had been to prison, spent a huge portion of his life searching for...well, that as the part she never quite understood. He was a trained hacker and served as an important asset to her team. That was why she had no issue with deciding to help him with a favor. She traveled with Max to Fallbrook to find an old scholar friend of his. Although, once she arrived and located him, she discovered that “friend” was not at all the case.

She was able to detect during the conversation that Max had lied to her in order to be sure she’d accept the task of his favor. She did not take kindly to lying, especially when Max knew what the bigger objective at hand was. It was her decision to make whether Max’s request was worth taking the time to do. The fact that he had fibbed in order to manipulate her decision did not make her happy. It infuriated her beyond description.

She scolded Max and expressed her anger for what he had done. He seemed genuinely sorry, acknowledging that he let his own personal feelings get in the way of what was important. She chewed him out royally and even made him cower a little bit. Thankfully, the Captain had brought Parvati along and she was able to fizzle things out before the Captain did something she’d soon regret. She seriously considered firing him on the spot and leaving him behind in Fallbrook. In the end, she decided that wouldn’t be right. She couldn’t leave anybody behind.

Still, she made sure that he knew if he ever pulled anything like that again then he’d be gone. The trek back to The Unreliable was quiet. Not even Parvati dared to say anything to try and ease the mood. Usually, Captain tended to avoid being spotted by raptidons and go around them. However, she had some serious negative energy to burn off and she made it a point to shoot at every single one they passed.

Eventually, Captain entered the ship, closing the door behind her selected crew. ADA greeted them per usual, her voice echoing through the ship. Parvati was quick to climb the stairs to the upper level because she could barely handle the tension anymore. Max knew that the Captain had nothing more to say to him and that she likely didn’t want to see him for the rest of the night. So, he returned to his bunk and called it a day.

She usually would huddle with her crew to wind the evening down and discuss the game plan for the next day, but truthfully she just wanted to be alone for a little bit.

The rest of the crew was upstairs sitting around the kitchen area. They found it odd that Max didn’t stick around to chat, but it all made sense when Parvati explained in a hushed voice.

“I would leave Captain alone until tomorrow if I were y’all,” She advised; “She’s madder than a stuck primal.”

This surely got everybody’s attention, especially Felix’s. He always worried about Captain. Even more so now that they were an item. He knew she could handle herself and anything thrown her way, but he still didn’t like it when she was upset about something. Nyoka, who was standing at the counter, chimed in soon after;

“Why’s that, P? What happened?” She asked for Parvati to elaborate.

Parvati looked to make sure Max wasn’t in the room before continuing;

“Mr. Vicar lied to her and she found out. She hollered at him and I was sure she was going to let him go. She went straight to her quarters when we got back just now.” She said, taking a seat next to Felix.

Ellie let out a low whistle. She was standing at the head of the table, arms crossed and brows raised;

“She always checks in before turning in for the night. That must’ve been some lie to make Captain that upset.” She stated.

Felix was fiddling with the tossball that he always kept in his pocket. The wheels in his head were turning. He knew how Captain felt about traitors, liars, people who abuse their power. She wasn’t a fan when someone told a lie for personal gain, but even Felix knew it was peculiar for her to be this frustrated over it.

“I’ll say. That’s not normal at all.” Felix claimed.

Knowing that there wouldn’t be a team meeting, the rest of the crew scattered into their own rooms just to start the day over tomorrow. Felix, on the other hand, decided to pay her a visit once he knew she had some time to mellow out. He crept quietly downstairs, careful not to wake anybody up who might have been asleep. He could be a bit heavy footed and he had his fair share of being yelled at for activating SAM in the middle of the night. To avoid this, he was sure to remove his shoes to soften his footfalls.

He came to the Captain’s doorway, peeking his head in to see her standing at the long tabletop, leaning against it. He watched intently as her eyes gazed over the planet in front of her, deep in thought. She eventually noticed his stare which prompted him to offer a bright grin.

“Hey, Felix,” She said in a rather monotone voice; “I’m guessing you’re here to check on me.”

He shrugged. She was half-right. He did indeed want to check on her, but he also just wanted to see how her day went. Although, based on what Parvati had said, he was sure it didn’t go so well. He took that as an invitation to enter and approach her. He stood next to her, his hand finding the small of her back;

“I just wanted to see my favorite gal,” He said cheekily; “And to check on you.”

She knew once Felix figured out that something had gone awry that he’d come bopping in to see what was up. Truth was, she was relieved to see him and to have someone who was always willing to listen.

“You know the situation I’m in,” She began; “The situation I’ve dragged all of you into.”

“I think it’s fair to say we brought ourselves into it. You didn’t exactly ask me to be a part of this crew...I asked you for a job.” Felix corrected.

“But I didn’t tell you my mission until after I hired you,” She retorted, moving across from him to sit on the bed; “I’ve been tasked by some crazed scientist for all I know to save the colony. I wasn’t given a lot of instruction other than to take this ship and keep in touch with Phineas. I don’t even know what the endgame is gonna be.”

Felix was listening closely. He turned from the window to face her, leaning back against the table. It was all starting to make sense now. It was simple. She was stressed and the pressure was beginning to get to her. He let her go on;

“I’m the one who’s got to save Halcyon. To be successful, I need our crew to be honest with me and all on the same page. I need to be able to put my trust in this team,” She said; “That’s why I got so upset with Max today. He lied to me to ensure that I would do something that he wanted. It didn’t affect anything too bad, but that was a serious blow to my trust in him.”

Felix understood where she was coming from. He believed that honesty was extremely important, especially with the way things were now. He saw both sides of the coin. He saw her position as a captain with a life changing goal ahead, but he also understood how much finding Reginald meant to Max.

“Max didn’t mean any harm. He understands that he should’ve handled it differently,” He suggested; “The mission wasn’t affected any. We’ve still got time.”

Felix had a point, but she was still irritated. As the captain, she was the one who had to decide what was worth their time. She got to decide what they had time for. She never minded doing something for someone in your beloved crew, but she still had a big mission hanging over her head.

“I know that, Felix, but what’s going to happen when I set us out on a mission that does affect what I’m trying to do here?” She said with your voice having a slight edge to it; “Then the colony’s fate is destroyed just because I thought it was a good idea to let the vicar have a fucking book translated.”

He would admit, he would never want to be in her shoes. That was one hell of a weight to carry alone. He was just fine being a crew-hand. However, she was perfectly able. She had what it took to save Halcyon. She had a badass squad, a family, by her side to help the cause.

“What’s this ‘I’ nonsense I keep hearing? This isn’t your burden anymore. This became a group matter the second you hired the first person of this crew,” He said with a sense of urgency. He couldn’t let her go on any longer thinking this was all on her; “This is our mission. You just happen to be the captain of it.”

Her heart was warmed by his words. That was unbelievably comforting. She needed their help, each and every one. She couldn’t do this alone. She knew this. Phineas knew that when he brought her from her 70 year hibernation that she’d be able to find companions to assist you along the way if she wanted it.

“You're saying if I go down with this mission, then you’re going down too?” She asked semi-joking.

He smirked, raising and settling his brows quickly;

“Damn right we will. It’s all or nothing, boss. We’re in this together.” He said moving to join her on the small bed.

“Thanks, Felix. I needed that.” She admitted; “And I thought I told you that you don’t have to call me boss?”

Felix smiled proudly. He knew he could lift her spirits. She was sounding like herself again. He leaned back onto her pillow and stretched out. Looked like he’d be staying the night here. Not that she minded.

“I like calling you boss. Even if you weren’t my captain, you’d still be the boss of this relationship.” He laughed heartily.

She playfully smacked his leg, a little offended at his statement.

“You calling me bossy?” She asked with a giggle.

“Yeah, I am actually,” He confessed; “But I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

She blushed. What a guy. She was thankful that she ran into him that fateful day on Groundbreaker. There’s no way this mission would still be afloat without him and the team she’d built. They’d be by her side no matter what.

For that, she was forever thankful.

#felix millstone #felix millstone x reader #felix millstone x you #felix millstone fanfiction #the outer worlds #the outer worlds felix millstone #felix millstone oneshot #felix millstone x female captain

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queermediastudies · 4 years

Text

The Danish Girl: yet another queer drama with a depressing ending

Review by: Kaitlin S.

SPOILER ALERT

The Danish Girl is a romantic drama loosely based on a true story of a transgender woman in the 1920s. It follows the transition of an artist named Einar Wegener into Lili Elbe with the support of her wife Gerda. Both Einar and Gerda were painters though Einar focused on landscapes whereas Gerda preferred portraits. One day, Gerda’s model was running late so she asked her husband to stand in for them wearing a pair of women’s shoes and holding up a dress so she could continue working. This posing as a woman seems to reawaken Einar’s desire to be a woman. Gerda lovingly supports Einar, helping them dress up as a woman and going out to events as things get more serious with Einar wishing to surgically transition to become Lili Elbe. While worried about what people may think or say, Gerda supports her as Lili has become a prominent and well known muse in her paintings. When seeking out doctors, many labeled Lili as crazy and tried to get her locked into an asylum until they headed to a different country and found a doctor who was willing to do the risky surgeries. Lili’s first surgery goes well and instills more confidence but also dysphoria as she still doesn’t feel quite right in her body. This makes Lili rush to have the second surgery but complications ensue. Infections run through Lili’s body and she gets to sit outside one last time with Gerda and mentions how she feels totally herself before she passes away.

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This movie was released in 2015 and is said to be a biographical drama based on Lili Elbe’s life, it is actually more of a fictionalized retelling of her story. The movie itself is based on the book of the same name, David Ebershoff. While this author is part of the queer community, he appears to have been given a lot of free reign over this story and the subsequent movie adaptation. Despite The Danish Girl being a unique movie that highlights an important life journey, it must be acknowledged that as it departs from the norm, it is not “ideologically “pure”, politically progressive and ideal, or even liked” by viewers (Cavalcante, 2017). This movie attempted to do quite a lot and while some elements were successful, major shortcomings have to be addressed as well.

Before delving into the shortcomings and failures of this movie, it is only right to point out what was done well. To begin, Eddie Redmayne did a pretty good job in showing Lili’s transition along with superb acting. In a few different interviews, Redmayne did acknowledge the potential backlash that he could face for playing a transgender character, admitting that he was grateful for the opportunity to play the role, hoping that one day there would be more queer actors/actresses and that one should be able to play any sort of role as long as it is done with respect (Puchko, 2015). He also did conduct a lot of research and had many conversations with transgender women to get a modern day grasp on their stories before attempting to play Lili Elbe.

In terms of story, there appear to major elements that most transgender people go through highlighted. There are times when Lili hears her deadname and has to pretend that it doesn’t bother her as she is not and can’t really be out. She instead claims that she is Einar’s cousin so she can avoid the questions and everything. Lili also struggled with gender dysphoria up until the end of the movie following her transition where she says that she feels “entirely herself” (Hooper, 2015). It also shows a lot of what it was like to be queer during that time as when Lili is seeking help, she is quickly labeled as homosexual, schizophrenic and otherwise just crazy. In the early 1900s, if a man was attracted to another man, they actually had a female soul trapped in their body and was labeled as homosexuality until the term transgender was coined. During that time, it was also considered a sin and an illness to be homosexual. People could be sent to asylums or prisons just for that. (Benshoff & Griffin, 2004). Lili was shunned and outcast for seeking help to feel like herself, just like some still are to this day. Unfortunately, these more accurate representations end up tarnishing the movie as a whole due to their inconsistencies.

Overall, some major shortcomings are related to Elbe’s story being passed around too much along with inaccuracies in terms of what reality actually was like in that time. The 1920s was not as accepting of transgender people as most are today and so, one of The Danish Girl’s major shortcomings was in that Lili was able to avoid most persecution. While it is possible that she was able to be careful and avoid any dangers, the movie leaves some major holes as Einar is practically erased and not a single person voices any question or concern about that. Along with that, Lili is never really misidentified and only faces slight problems in the forms of doctors diagnosing her as crazy and one scene where she is attacked by two homophobes while walking. These inaccuracies are miniscule though when compared to how jumbled Lili’s story became in the movie.

https://www.express.co.uk/celebrity-news/566115/Eddie-Redmayne-beaten-The-Danish-Girl-Brussels-Einar-Wegener

Obviously, this story initially began with a real life which was then chronicled into a narrative by Lili Elbe, titled Man Into Woman: The First Sex Change. This was published in 1931, three months after her death (Caughie et al., 2020). Nearly 70 years later, David Ebershoff wrote The Danish Girl, a fictional novel loosely based on Elbe’s life. Ebershoff did admit that it was not an attempt to tell a true story as he instead made up most of the inner details about Lili Elbe and other characters. From there, 15 years later, the novel was adapted into a film of the same name, starring Eddie Redmayne. With so much time having elapsed from when Lili was alive and countless translations and adaptations of her story, the movie is the result of a giant game of Telephone (Colangelo, 2020). The true story ends up becoming quite convoluted and yet it is still marketed as a biographical drama film.

The Danish Girl truly should not be considered a biogeographical film. Despite bringing in elements of the real story and life of Lili Elbe, the story does not even closely resemble what is known of her life. The drama label does fit though as this movie is designed to be emotional. As Doty explained in Making Things Perfectly Queer (1993), melodramas are inherently queer and linked with the community and are designed with conventions that “encourage queer positioning as they exploit the spectacle of heterosexual romance… and traditional gender roles gone awry” (p. 15). The movie plays on heterosexual romance and gender roles gone awry as a once heterosexual relationship is turned on it’s head as Lili starts her transition. It also transforms the gender and relationship roles of Lili and Gerda as Gerda ends up teaching Lili a lot about dressing and appearing feminine, almost like she was teaching a daughter instead of her husband. Eventually, their relationship deteriorates and changes further as they are not really a traditional couple but are still companions and support for one another. This movie may have not been a good possible representation of a transgender story as many elements fell flat but a clear effort was made to try and include some realistic elements faced by transgender people worldwide.

Personally, I find this movie to be a decently cute drama for background noise but focusing on it made me notice how many things were done poorly. It is a queer film for sure and does some justice in trying to bring a real story to life but so many things are omitted or softened, almost to make it more palatable to a heteronormative audience. There aren’t really scenes where Lili appears to be caught in between herself and Einar appearance wise or facing much of reality. Another major criticism of the movie itself, not Lili’s story, is that her character just dies at the end. There is a really poignant scene where Lili admits that she feels like herself before mentioning she’d dreamed of being a baby in her mother’s arms where she was Lili from the start and moments after she says this, she passes away (Hooper, 2015). It fits the common theme of queer stories not having a happy ending but honestly, with how many creative liberties were taken, it would have been nice to go one step further and brighten the ending rather than just ending on a somber note. There’s only one scene following this in which the scarf that Gerda had gifted Lili and then got back after her death blows away in the wind and Gerda believes that it’s just Lili being freed. While that is a sweet thought, personally, I feel like that attempts to make a point that a transgender person can never really be freed from their past until they are dead, which I believe could be pretty harmful to the queer community. This movie is not designed to be a bright or uplifting queer story despite the elements that make it seem that way. It instead pushes some harmful ideas along with a false retelling of someone’s real life. I believe that there has got to be some better queer movies out there that are more beneficial to the community and less problematic.

youtube

References:

Benshoff, H. & Griffin, S. (2004). General Introduction. In Queer cinema the film reader (pp. 1–15). introduction, Routledge. Taylor & Francis Group.

Cavalcante, A. (2017). Breaking Into Transgender Life: Transgender Audiences’ Experiences With “First of Its Kind” Visibility in Popular Media. Communication, Culture & Critique, 10(3), 538–555. https://doi.org/10.1111/cccr.12165

Caughie, Pamela L., Emily Datskou, Sabine Meyer, Rebecca J. Parker, and Nikolaus Wasmoen, eds. Lili Elbe Digital Archive. Web. 2020, Oct. 13. http://www.lilielbe.org

Colangelo, H. (2020, Jan. 26). ‘The Danish Girl’ and The Tragic Mistreatment of Transgender History. Medium. https://medium.com/@harmonymoon/the-danish-girl-and-the-tragic-mistreatment-of-transgender-history-e5803187f84f

Doty, A. (1993). Something Queer Here. In Making things perfectly queer: Interpreting mass culture (pp. 2-16). Minneapolis u.a.: Univ. of Minnesota Press.

Earnshaw, J. (2015, April 24). Eddie Redmayne is viciously attacked as he films The Danish Girl in Brussels. Retrieved October 15, 2020, from https://www.express.co.uk/celebrity-news/566115/Eddie-Redmayne-beaten-The-Danish-Girl-Brussels-Einar-Wegener

Hooper, T. (Director). (2015). The Danish Girl [Motion Picture]. United Kingdom: Universal Pictures.

Puchko, K. (2015, Nov. 24). Eddie Redmayne Talks Backlash, Trans Representation and the Power of the Male Gaze in ‘The Danish Girl’. Indiewire. https://www.indiewire.com/2015/11/eddie-redmayne-talks-backlash-trans-representation-and-the-power-of-the-male-gaze-in-the-danish-girl-50373/

#queermediastudies #queermedia #queermovies #thedanishgirl #dramamovies #romancemovies #drama #sad #eddieredmayne #LiliElbe #queer theory #problematic representation #LGBTQ+#LGBT #transgender #mtf trans #transmovie #submission

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xserpentlife · 5 years

Text

Pretending

You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!” Would be great to have with FP and where the reader is younger but legal of course from @keepcalm-and-beyou

Warnings: Mention of blood, fighting

A/N: Fp and reader though they have a large age difference they are both of age and were of age at the start of dating

Word Count: about 2200

You have been dating, well seeing FP behind everyone's back for a year. A year of kisses, hugs, cuddles, but also hiding around corners, closets, and the shed. Every day of your relationship was kiss here but hide there, you loved it nevertheless. Being with FP, meant everything to you. He had been there for you through the toughest times of your life, and he loved everything about you and you, him. You were tired of hiding but you had to, no one would understand the way your relationship was. Yeah, there was an age gap, but it was legal, everything… well besides serpent trips, everything you had done with him was legal. But everyone saw it differently. The first person to find out was Toni, she caught you and FP up in his office, she thought he had left for the night and needed to lock the cash up, turns out you and him were staying the night and lost track of time. She caught you lying on the couch watching a movie and kissing, nothing crazy, but it still did shock her.

Months later. You were on a job with Sweet Pea, and Jughead. It was a dangerous job, the police and Mayor Mcoy knew of it, it was an inside job trying to catch the Ghoulies on their drug ring. You lost connection with the serpents and FP in your ear piece, which led to you being in danger. You made the turn before you were supposed to the go-ahead getting confused over the line of sound. You turned rounding the corner before the Serpents were ready, shot in the shoulder you fell to the ground, shot again once more in the leg and Malachai standing over you.

“Well… who do we have here, oh little Y/N” A punch to your face causing blood to pool into your mouth

“Mal-Malachai” you tried getting up before his finger was pushing into the bullet wound on your shoulder “Fuck-fuck stop what do you want Malachai”

“You, see you Y/N, should not have came into this building, poor girl, and no one knows they need to save you, because well we caught on sweet cheeks, these ear pieces are doing you no good now”

“How!”

“Preventative measures sweetheart”

“Fuck you” You spilit blood out again

“You know Y/N it would be very very appealing to me to kill you right here, shoot you straight in the head, or maybe the heart, but you know what would be better. Letting you bleed out, leaving your body here to rot until maybe some coyotes come of find you, better yet maybe hot dog does, and everyone gets led to your body” He cut your cheek before leaving the blade dragging slowly across your skin as he walked closer to the door. “bye Y/N, have fun dying alone”.

You were a fighter, never giving up before you had to, you tried standing first the pain too much to wear, looking down at your leg the wound was so much worse than you originally believed, bleeding profusely your leg had no feeling left. You ripped the tattered flannel you had on making two bandages. One for your shoulder and leg, hoping that maybe it would buy you some more time.

*FP POV*

“Jug, Sweets what’s your position?”

“Outside of the building FP”

“Why! What do you mean outside!” “The plan what awry dad, ghoulies standing guard outside, front and back, Sweets got in but had to come back out due to guards”

“Wait guards?”

“We stoked it out the other day there were no guards, fuck we were compromised boys, where is Y/N”

“She hasn’t been answering back, we checked 10 minutes ago but got no response, told her not to move forward”

“You are just telling me now! What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Sweet pea! Try to make contact” Sweet Pea tried for a total of 5 minutes before FP knew that something had gone terribly wrong. On all the missions you were never one to forget to contact back or update your team, you are the reason so many missions went right, this time being the only one that had gone very, very wrong.

“FP the guards are leaving”

“I’m coming!”

“Dad no stay where you are or your cover will be blown!” FP ran from the masked van like his life depended on it. You, being the thing on his mind right now, everyone was present and safe except you. The girl he promised to always keep save, the one he would risk his life for no matter what. He ran into the building straight past Sweet Pea and Jug, “Stay here and wait for the ambulance!” searching every room gun drawn, before finally making it to you.

“Y/N!!” he crashed to the ground next to you, blood leaking through the fabric you had used. “Who, who did this”

“Mal-Malachai FP”

“Baby look at me, keep your eyes open”

“It’s hard”

“I know princess, I know how hard it is okay, I’ve been here, Jug has been here but you can do it okay, fuck I know how strong you are I know you can do this, an ambulence is coming okay, gonna get you fixed up in no time”

“FP…”

“What princess?”

“Kiss me” His lips met yours in a panicked frenzy before he felt them slowly relax, opening his eyes he saw yours slowly closing. “NO! NO! NO! NO! Y/N!, Baby don’t fucking close yours eyes, I need you baby. Fuck I love you okay, I’m gonna get you fixed up”

What Fp didn’t know was that day, the boys were behind the stack of boxes, watching every move. After that FP got you to the hospital, sitting in the room every day until you woke up. Eating there, showering there, having serpent meetings there, he never left. Someone took over his work at the station, his main priority being you. People always asked him why, he didn’t do that when Fangs got shot, or when Toni was put into the hospital for getting beat up. No one knew why until Jug had asked.

“Dad why are you still here?”

“I can’t leave her, I'm all she has”

“Dad we saw you”

“What are you talking about Jug”

“The day this all happened, Pea and I came in the building behind you incase you needed back up”

“I told you to wait outside! Why didn’t you wait outside!”

“Dad…”

“Jug…”

‘‘Do you love her?”

“I do”

“It isn’t right...”

It spread like wildfire after that. News stations and newspapers littered with titles along the lines of “FP jones Sheriff of Riverdale Police station in love with a girl more than half his age” after Y/N woke up though and FP knew she was safe he left her, ignoring her all the time, thinking that is what she needed. Time away from him, time to be who she truly was. The people were getting to him. Telling him he was gross, telling him he was an endangerment to society, or all the people calling him the name that no man would ever want to be called, but he wasn’t any of that. He got scared, scared that Jelly bean would be taken from him, scared he would hurt you if people started attacking you instead. Months went by, you were still healing. You talked to FP twice in that time frame. Once when he called to check in, and once when you cornered him in a store before he pushed you to the side and walked away having Toni keep you back from trying to run after him, not that you could considering you were in a cast and on crutches. Fp Jones ignored you as much as he could, as much as his heart would let him without fully breaking. He still watched from afar, keeping you safe when anyone looked at you funny. He cared, that could never go away, but he also thought it was better for you if no one was talking about the relationship that both of you had prior. He told the press it was all a lie, told everyone that he loved you like a second daughter rather than a lover. It took another month to get people to believe him, it started with him not seeing you, keeping his distance people began to believe him, he even created a fake relationship with a woman in Greendale. People woul;d see them walk around together, people that were watching FP from afar who thought he was a danger to their young female children. He never kissed her though, never wanted his lips tainted because he always remembered yours. You heard about his new relationship, your heart breaking with every update to the story. Everyone in the serpents kept you protected. Kept the articles hidden from you after you got out of the hospital. You went into a depression when FP stopped talking to you. Your breakup having no goodbye and not being closed left a hole in your heart that no one but him could repair no matter how hard they tried. You loved him and that never stopped. You loved him, need him, craved him. But most of all you needed him to heal, he was the one that saved you, the one that found you bleeding out in that building, his lips the last thing you remember before you drifted off and the first thing you wanted to feel when you woke up but instead him being gone made you feel more pain than being shot. You needed him, so after those few months, after you found the articles and the updates you decided that enough was enough, Jug had came to you telling you the entire story, telling you his dad had started taking sips of bourbon again, not full drinks but sips here and there and he could see it slowly starting. He knew his dad needed you just as much as you needed him. So he helped you corner him, locking the office from outside so his dad couldn’t get out.

*Y/N POV*

“FP!”

“Y/N? Get out of this office you shouldn’t be here”

“What about the time you told me I could be here any time I wanted”

“Fine then stay, I'm leaving” You stepped to the side as he tried to open the door.

“You know this is my office, I should be able to come and please as I want, what did you do to the door?”

“Locked it, from the outside, figured you wouldn’t be able to run. You keep shutting me out and ignoring me, why FP I thought...”

“Leave, this is my office remember!”

“Oh get off your fucking pedestool, how many nights did we spend here otgether! You telling me this was our special place where no one could hurt us!”

“None, as far as I'm concerned and you should know that!”

“You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen! Cause guess what? It did!!”

“Fuck Y/N I need to pretend!”

“Why!?”

“I need to keep you safe! Keep Jug and Jelly bean safe!”

“You always keep them safe”

“They won’t be unless I pretend, it’s so fucked because I fucking love you with everything I have and I shouldn’t”

“And why not!? Who says you shouldn’t?”

“The whole fucking world y/n, your 21 and I am 50. I know you saw the papers! The articles and news reports!”

“Yeah I did and fuck them, Fuck the world FP because I love you too and that is all that should matter. I fucking love you so much”

“But is that enough?”

“It damn well should be. When, when you were not there when I woke up Fp it killed me, and then you didn’t talk to me kept me at a distance I didn’t understand. You left a fucking whole in my heart FP”

“I was trying to protect you! To protect everyone”

“Yeah well in trying to protect me, you killed me just the same”

“Let me try to fix it then!, I still love you”

“I love you too Fp, but you need to learn not to care what the world thinks”

“I want you Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry”

“Good, you should be. And I’m not saying I won’t forgive you because fuck FP I love you with every piece of my being but I can’t let you in instantly, you hurt me so badly”

“I know princess, I know I did” He stepped towards you as you stepped away.

“No, you are not going to do that! It’s gonna take time FP”

“Okay” You knocked on the door with the code as they unlocked it letting you out. “I love you Y/N”

“I love you too” You left slowly out the door climbing down the stairs. Hopefully, he realized time would heal the wounds, him trying was all you wanted. You still loved him with every part of you and that would never change.

#fp jones x reader #reader x fp jones #fp x reader #reader x fp #fp jones #riverdale x reader #riverdale story #fp jones imagine #fp jones drabble #fp jones story #fp #fp jones x y/n #fp jones x you

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motleymoose · 4 years

Text

Homecoming Pt. 1: Astray, Ch. 1

Chapter 1

Stranded With Banthas

Fandom: The Mandalorian Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), Gender-neutral Reader Words: 2.8k+ Warnings: ??? Angst???

Summary:

Stranded on a bantha-filled, Imperial-controlled moon on the outer reaches of the galaxy, I would do anything to get off-world. But even the best-laid plans can go awry, and I have to settle for second-best, a living reminder of my childhood.

Notes:

***1ST CHAPTER HAS BEEN EDITED***

Hello! Thanks for stumbling upon my fic!! A few things before we get started: *I've never really been a fan of Star Wars (until the Mandalorian, that is) *I've only done a basic amount of research (please let me know if the stellar charts don't align or I've completely flub any major parts of the lore!) *If you're here for romance, this is probably not the fic you seek This fic is going to span several parts, so don't be disappointed if the chapter count is short. There is more, I promise! I have two more chapters in this part, plus half a dozen others waiting the wings for their time to shine. That being said, this is all lightly edited and more than likely contains several blaring mistakes I am currently blind to.

Thank you for hanging with me this far. I hope you enjoy it!

Homecoming Masterlist

I was hot, bored and out of credits.

Having been stranded on an Imperial-held outpost, stars away from almost any sort of proper civilization, it wasn’t exactly the worst thing that could’ve happened to me. I could’ve lost my hands or what little possessions I had, even been executed, but instead the captain and crew of the Momentum decided it was a fitting punishment to desert me on a moon positively crawling with Imps and bucketheads.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t luck that saved me. I was the unluckiest person in the galaxy. Having lost my family to a Rebel airstrike and then been abandoned by my caretaker at a young age, I’d had to fight tooth and claw for survival. I was a mechanic by trade, and a good one at that. My ability to fix things also gave me the knowledge to break them, and coupling that with my disregard to fighting fair, I could be one sticky situation to get rid of.

Not to say the crew hadn’t thought of ways to dispose of me. On more than one occasion, I’d had large, heavy objects barely miss my head as I puttered around below-decks or in the engineering pit. It was more often than I thought average for a mechanic to be almost killed by falling crates and crewmates, and after mentioning it to the captain, everyone agreed it was best if I just left the ship instead of continuing on as their blackthumb.

I’m not sure what exactly brought on their ire. There had been that bunkmate with whom I’d had a tumble or two, but as we both had agreed to part ways as distant friends. I didn’t see her as being a begrudging type, but there was a first for everything, and I wasn’t about to question the crew’s alliance when freedom seemed so close.

Maybe it would have been better to just poison everyone on the ship and abscond with the loot, but I wasn’t a pirate - or, actually, I wasn’t usually a pirate - and murdering everyone just because they pissed me off wasn’t on my list of fun activities.

Playing through the events that led me to the dusty rock I currently resided, I couldn’t help but kick myself for not getting the rest of my pay before being unceremoniously dumped in the dirt and bantha dung. I shifted uncomfortably on my perch of sweet-smelling hay bales in an attempt to not itch. It was impossible, as I had been settled on the bales since mid-afternoon, and there was hay in places I didn’t even want to think about.

I stared at the door of the single cantina, squashed between a rocky outcropping and the ruins of a Rebel-held base. Most of the regulars had found their way in, but I was more interested in the one that stood out from all the rest of the Imp sympathizers and bantha ranchers; a Mandalorian in full, shining beskar had landed in my neck of the woods, and I wanted to find out why.

If he was looking for me, well. I was going to have a hard time explaining the reasons I stole a slave ship from my boss and then let them loose on a newly-colonized moon on the Outer Rim. It wasn’t a good story, and I didn’t come out of it unscathed, but I did the best for those people with the tools I was given and I wouldn’t do anything to change the fact that I gave them freedom.

My boss didn’t look at it that way, and before I knew it, I was on all the wanted lists in the ruled galaxy. Which is why being on a no-named moon, surrounded by bantha pastures, was the least worst thing that could've happened.

Grumbling under my breath, I wriggled further into my little shelter. The sun was setting behind me, and the light cast an eerie rosy glow on the people closing up their shops for the night. The village was small compared to most, and smaller still for the amount of Stormtroopers and Imperial officials lurking about in groups of three or better. They patrolled the streets after dark in a guise of keeping peace and order, but everyone knew that they were planning something. No one knew what it was, but word had spread from neighboring moons that the Imps were flocking to the area. Nowhere was safe from the Empire’s reach, even when they were defeated and in shambles.

Once the sun went down all the way, the humid, oppressive heat would dissipate, leaving behind a damp chill that would last until the next dawn. Pulling a couple of loose flakes of hay on top of me for warmth, I propped my chin in my hands and waited impatiently for the Mandalorian to show himself again.

Near dawn, not long after many of the bantha ranchers had tramped from the warmth of their beds and to the ramshackle collection of barns and sheds out near the landing field - and thus downwind from the most of the community - the Mandalorian made his appearance.

Broad, square and sturdy, the warrior looked the part of the fearsome legends. His beskar was shiny, with barely a dent to be seen. The cloak he wore, although tattered and full of blaster holes, looked well-made, and the weapons he carried - a Westar-34 and an amban rifle - were clean and in good repair. Without a look back, he strode through the quiet thoroughfare and disappeared down an alley.

Well frag.

Other than just to quench my curiosity, what I wanted more than anything was a ride off this Imp haven. The Mandalorian would have a ship that could take me off-moon, and even if I was his quarry, it was better than rotting amongst the bantha kung. Stiffly vaulting from the stack of hay, I shook the kinks from my joints and sped after the Mandalorian.

Following the same route I saw him take, I trailed the warrior to a set of squat, ovoid huts. He’d disappeared inside, and once more I waited impatiently, but this time in the shadows of a woodshed. From time to time, I touched the amulet hanging from the thin silver chain at the base of my throat, reassuring myself the body-warmed pendant was still there. This Mando wasn’t the first one I’d ever laid eyes on, as my caretaker had been of the Way. He had taught me what he could before he left me, a solid, steady protector fleeing into the night. The thought of him still hurt, but it had been years ago, many parsecs in the past, and it was easier to push down and out of the way of more important emotions.

My nerves ticked upwards when I caught sight of the warrior in the window of the foremost hut. Heart fluttering and stomach in my throat, I took slow, smooth steps farther back into the shed until I was pressed up against a mouldering wood pile. I watched, caged and frozen as the Mandalorian stayed in the frame of the opening for a few more minutes. Head spinning, I released a hiss of a sigh and began to take slow, deep breaths to calm myself. I wasn’t going to do myself any favors by passing out before I could find out where the Mando was headed.

As the minutes dragged on, I continued my deep, even breath until the blanket covering the hut opening twitched and the Mandalorian stepped out. I took a few more breaths, biding my time to make sure he had a head start on me. ------ It was a long ambling walk to the outer reaches of the small farming village. My nose was clogged from the stench of moofs, and I’m pretty sure that was bantha droppings and not mud I’d stepped in a while back, but I kept my pace to a casual walk. From the looks of things, the Mandalorian was headed for the shipyard. Not a surprise, but I figured he’d’ve stayed a little longer. Either way, I was going to get a ride on his ship. Eagerness gnawed at my guts and my legs, but rushing would call attention to me, and I didn't really want to be noticed.

At the last set of farm buildings before the vast openness of the docking ports, I paused to watch a group of younglings chase an aired up moof bladder. There was a skirmish, a pile of small wriggling bodies, and then a shriek of triumph as a tiny Trandoshan Ingling held the dusty bladder above its broad scaly head. It hissed a shrill challenge at its companions, and they all fell about the place giggling and scrabbling for the champion.

I smiled at their innocence, watching for a minute longer as the group split into predetermined teams, and the game began again. Pivoting away from the revelry, I dodged between two outbuildings, bantha barns from the smell of them. Looking over my shoulder one last time, I turned to stroll down the empty alley.

That’s when I ran into the Mandalorian. Or, more correctly, his outstretched arm.

The breath knocked out of me, a bruise blooming across my chest, I lay in the dust with the trash and the dung at the feet of the Mandalorian. Staring up dazedly, I gasped painfully and brought a shaky hand up to rub the grime from my face. My other hand palmed the short dagger tucked into the straps of my cuisses. The plan was to stow away on the ship, but plans changed, and getting clotheslined in a dirty alleyway happened to change those plans for the worse.

“I don’t want to have to kill you,” I finally hissed. My chest felt heavy and my breathing was short as I brought the palmed dagger up to my chest, next to the pendant. “But I will if you ever do that again.”

The helmeted head angled sideways and the Mandalorian took me in. “I am ordered by the Guild to bring you in,” he rasped, tossing a puck onto my stomach. A hologram image smiled goofily back at me, all of my identities, crimes and locations printed plainly underneath.

Raising my head up to look at it, I grimaced and fell back into the dirt. “Frag.”

The neat scroll under my beaming hologram face told anyone who knew how to read that I was a notorious pirate who’d stolen a cargo-full of indentured servants from an innocent merchant to sell on the slave market.

Not completely untrue, but just enough so that it made me angry.

“It’s kinda hard to be a pirate of any sort when I don’t even have a ship, much less one full of supposed indentured servants,” I muttered to no one in particular. “I’ll accept the charges of stealing that ship and rescuing the people on it, but I’m drawing a line at ‘pirate’ and ‘slaver’ and ‘innocent merchant’s indentured servants.’ My boss is anything but blameless, and the servants were innocents tricked into slavery. I couldn’t not help them.”

The Mandalorian grunted solemnly and bumped my shoulder with the steel toe of his boot.

“Alright, alright. I’m getting up,” I replied, deftly sliding the tiny dagger into the sleeve of my tunic before holding my hands up and getting to my knees. The law was not on my side, never had been. But there was a small chance I could talk, or fight, my way out of this. I bowed my head, wishing mightily that I knew a little more about hand-to-hand combat. I’m okay with knives, but when I only had a small dagger to start a fight with, even I knew that I was no match for a fully-geared Mando.

I took a bit longer than necessary, slumped on my knees with my head down, silently assessing the situation at hand. More than likely, my two-timing bantha fodder boss Mihcas put out a bounty. And it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d indicated he’d rather have me dead than alive; I’d freed a bunch of his cargo on a rebel-held moon, completely destroying both of our reputations and saving the lives of a dozen people destined for hard labor on one of the Imperial exo-planets. Half of them had been children, for Force’s sake. It didn’t sit right with me to send a bunch of younglings to their subsequent deaths when their biggest crime was existing. So when I had the chance to make a difference, I took it by the balls and jumped into hyperdrive right across the nose of my boss’s ship. It was reckless, but the scream of rage that came on the radio before I left him behind was priceless.

Any idea I had for escape flew from my head when the Mandalorian picked me up by the neck and shoved me into the mudbrick barn’s wall. My head banged painfully against the reddish yellow stone, and I felt the tiny dagger slip from my sleeve to clatter harmlessly to the ground. The hand crushing my windpipe flexed in irritation, and I found myself lifted off my feet. The newly-risen sun gleamed an angry red off the bounty hunter’s helmet. I couldn’t help but squint as I scrabbled for purchase against the wall, fingertips and knuckles bloodied and raw when I finally brought them around to grasp his wrist.

A blaster appeared suddenly, digging into my ribs, its quiet hum letting me know it was charged and loaded. Not that I could do anything about it. Black spots danced in my vision from the lack of oxygen going to my brain, so it was easy for me to ignore little things like a gun shoved in my belly in favor of more pressing issues. Like not losing consciousness.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold,” the Mandalorian threatened, fingers tightening around my throat.

Opening my mouth, I tried to form words, but my brain had a difficult time remembering even the most basic tasks. The bounty hunter squeezed his fingers one more time before letting go. I landed on my knees, panting open mouthed. It took a moment for me to regain all the proper motor functions, allowing the oxygen stinging my damaged throat to resaturate my bloodstream and sharpen my addled brain. The Mandalorian stood a few feet away from me, left hand resting on his belt buckle while the other held the blaster at his side. He seemed relaxed under all that armor, but the fingers of his left hand tapped an impatient tattoo on his belt.

Sucking in all the air I could before it went out of style, I closed my eyes and concentrated on steadying my racing heart.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

The Mandalorian cleared his throat.

Right. That.

In a false attempt to stand, I stumbled against the barn wall and fell back to my hands and knees in the dust, landing hard and awkward so’s not to alert him to anything fishy. Like retrieving my knife. It was stealthily tucked into one of the many pockets on the leg of my jumpsuit before I actually tried to stand.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. This hunter had less patience than me, which was saying something. Straightening upright, I pushed off the wall one-handed until I was face-to-face with the bounty hunter. I pasted the most innocent grin on my face I could conjure up at the moment, spreading my hands wide in front of me, palms out to show that I harbored no ill-will or weapons.

“I am not the pirate you seek.” I widened my eyes in what I hoped was a trustful look.

“Hands. Now.”

“I guess you did take my breath away, but don’t you think it’s a little soon to walk out in public together?” I teased humorlessly before complying. Hands out, wrists together, don’t make any sudden moves or relax any muscles. “Would it help if I told you my evil twin made me do it?” Not exactly a lie, since half the things I did were under the influence in one form or the other. “I’m by no means innocent of some of the things you're accusing me of, but more than half of that is made up or exaggerated beyond belief.”

The cuffs were roughly locked into place, and I flexed my hands experimentally. They were tight, but not so much so that I’d lose feeling in my hands later. It’s a small thing to be glad that this bounty hunter showed a little kindness with my bonds.

“Move,” the bounty hunter said, jabbing me in the ribs again with the blaster.

The hot, boiling rage that had built up over the last few weeks bubbled up the back of my wounded throat. I swallowed it loudly. “I don’t know where you want me to go.” Not exactly the truth, but he didn’t need to know that.

Sighing heavily, the Mando put a gloved hand on my shoulder, shoving me none too gently in the direction of the docks.

Cursing my luck, I looked blankly at my original destination. “More than one way to skin a womp-rat, I guess,” I muttered under my breath, and began the uphill trek to a ship that would hopefully make good on its promise to get me the frag out of here.

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baepsaetan · 4 years

Text

Banner by @thebannershop

Summary: In a futuristic age where a person can be coded and inserted into a new body, the rich can live forever. Born to a wealthy family, Jin expects to live life at a lofty and uncaring height. His expectations go awry when his body is murdered and a small gang steals his ‘stack’ and resleeves him in a criminal. Thrust into a gritty, neon world far below his life as an immortal, where death can be Real, Jin will discover truths that challenge his perceptions and make him wonder what - if anything - immortality is worth.

Chapters: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt.5, pt. 6, pt. 7 -> read on Ao3

Genre: Altered Carbon Fusion, Science Fiction/Futuristic, Slow Burn, Smut, Angst, Murder Mystery

Warnings: Shifting PoVs (primarily Jin), minor character death, abuse, torture, gangs, drug addiction, drug use, references to depression, body dysphoria, animal death, swearing, smut in future chapters

Length: 7.1k

Before he’s even aware of the sound of the shot – maybe even before the sound is made – Jin is flying. Almost literally. Someone hip checks him so hard that his feet, not firmly planted to begin with, leave the ground, and as he falls, he crashes into Namjoon, sending them both sprawling off the sidewalk. They land in the road in a tangle of limbs, groans and (in Namjoon’s case) curses. Several more shots ring out, Jin’s brain too slow on the uptake to do anything more than cringe and sort of hug the ground, expecting to feel the impact of a bullet at any second.

Jungkook is not so slow.

After he’d shoved Seokjin out of the way, he’d drawn his own weapon and started firing at the woman, as well as several other people who’ve swarmed out from the cars they’d hidden behind. Now, as Seokjin clings for dear life to the pavement, blood thundering in his ears and eyes wildly scouring the street, he finds his mouth falling open. Two bodies have already joined Namjoon and Jin on the pavement, slumped figures that move only feebly, and even as Jin lifts his head a bit more, Jungkook finds another mark and she joins her companions on the ground, clutching at her shoulder. Jin thinks she might be screaming – her mouth is open – but all he can hear is his own stampeding heartbeat and an occasional popping noise that must be the guns firing.

It adds to the air of unrealism, but Jungkook is the main focus of this nightmare. So fast his hands blur, he changes out a cartridge and keeps shooting, seamless and assured. He’s already moved to set himself between Namjoon and the attackers, though the position isn’t as deadly as it would have been even a few seconds prior. Jungkook’s rapid and accurate aim has forced their enemies to take cover behind cars, abandoning their three comrades where they fell. The trio don’t last long; with cool precision, Jungkook takes an extra moment and shoots all three in the heads before resuming firing at anyone who dares to show any part of their body from behind their shields.

He had suspected Jungkook was harboring neurochems and some variety of physical enhancements – he just moved too fluidly to be entirely natural – but the unadulterated violence of the other man has Jin transfixed and shaking. There’s blood on the ground by the bodies, blood and – other things – and a part of him is trying to remember that it’s sleeves – just sleeves – that were destroyed so casually. That part is dim and very far away. Was this how his own murderer had killed him, as easily as tapping a button, and with as much concern?

The violence drops to a simmer as quickly as it flared up, the flurry of bullets slowing, and Jin’s hearing returns only when Namjoon grabs him by both shoulders and shakes him. “Seokjin! Snap out of it! Damn it, can you hear me?”

He takes in the other’s excruciatingly tense expression with a befuddled stare, and his eyes widen when he realizes they’re not in the center of the street anymore but huddled against a vehicle. Namjoon must have dragged him here, but he hadn’t even… With a tremendous effort, Seokjin shakes his head, chasing away the fogged paralyses wrapping his appendages and brain in cotton, unsure what to feel about Namjoon risking life and limb to get him to the shelter. “Yeah,” he gasps, “yeah, I hear you. What do we do?”

“Keep your head low. You see that dumpster?” Namjoon uses the hand not holding his own gun to point out a green behemoth of a dumpster a few meters behind them, set at the mouth of an alley between two of the industrial buildings. “Get behind it.”

“Namjoon, there’s someone going around the cars on the far side,” Jungkook calls, his warning followed closely by two quick bangs as he fires at whoever it is. “I can’t get them, not with those assholes still up the street.”

It takes a moment to understand what Jungkook means, though Jin gets it eventually. If he turns to follow the movement of the person darting along the side, the assailants in front will have time to get out of cover and shoot; it’s only Jungkook’s constant vigilance that’s keeping them pinned down.

Appallingly steady, like they’re just having a normal conversation, Namjoon replies, “I’ve got him. I’ll – Seokjin, get behind that dumpster before you get yourself killed. I’ll cover you, Jungkook.”

Doing as he’s bid takes a courage all its own; moving from even this pitiful shelter feels like inviting a spotlight to fall on him, with a ‘shoot me’ sign put up for good measure. But Jin can’t just sit there. Who knew what would happen if he got killed again? Best case scenario, his stack would be ransomed back to his parents, but that’s a very best case, and besides, his parents hadn’t put him back in a sleeve the first time, had they? What if it’s the same the next time around? The best case wouldn’t really be best case then, would it?

Better to stick with the pink haired devil he knows.

Clenching his teeth, he psyches himself up for a heartbeat more before flinging himself into a running crouch. Almost immediately several gunshots ring out and Jin is pretty sure he’s not imagining the crack of bullets whipping by. As he tumbles behind the protection of the metal bulk, he definitely doesn’t imagine the chorus of voices shouting, “It’s him, he’s there!” Even more bullets come his way – one hits into the dumpster with a tortured scream of metal – but Jungkook makes the shooters pay for the attempt if a pained yell is anything to go by.

Did that mean these psychopaths were trying to get him specifically? And was ‘him’ Seokjin, or were they after Siwoo for some reason? And how’d they know who he was, where they would be? Could that girl from the club have told someone, not anywhere near as fooled as he’d thought she’d been? Gasping for breath, his back pressed into the reassuring hardness of the dumpster, Jin can’t get his scattered thoughts together enough to figure out what any of it means. Not being able to see what’s going on just fuels his hammering heart, but he’s not stupid enough to think that sticking his head out is a good idea.

Except for the person still screaming in pain, it’s gone very quiet.

Had Namjoon already shot the person trying to flank them? Or had he been shot himself? Could that be why he and Jungkook aren’t talking to each other? What if Namjoon’s dead?

The thought sets him to trembling, violent shudders that wrack his body for a reason he’s not anywhere near calm enough to identify. No matter how fast or hard he blinks, Seokjin can’t seem to clear away the picture of rivulets of red streaming from the heads of those people Jungkook killed. He can’t stop himself from imagining Namjoon in exactly the same position, slumped over, hair tinged a colour far less innocent than peach, the exit wound a gaping hole that’s there because Seokjin couldn’t move fast enough.

An unfamiliar voice rips through the macabre picture, tearing Jin’s focus back to reality. “You fuckers are fucking dead, you hear me? Fucking dead!”

“Not as dead as your friends,” Jungkook yells back, and Seokjin can almost picture the maddening grin he’s probably wearing. It helps, too, because he instinctively knows the boy wouldn’t say something like that if Namjoon had been shot.

His intuition proves correct. Namjoon joins the yelling contest a moment later, louder than the string of swears Jungkook’s comment elicited. “You’ve already lost too many people, whoever the hell you are. Why don’t you just walk away? It’s not gonna get any easier from here.”

There’s a pause, and stupid or not, Jin can’t bear the laden tension anymore. He peeks around the dumpster. It takes him a while to locate everyone. The few pedestrians who he could have sworn were around before have up and vanished. Namjoon and Jungkook have moved closer to his hiding spot, Jungkook on his side of the street, Namjoon on the other. From this angle he can just make out a few people, muffled under hoodies, crouched on the sidewalk. If he’d had a gun, he might have been able to pick one or two of them off (but probably not). It’s impossible to tell how many there are. And unless he’s very much mistaken, they’re on both sides of the streets now, using the cars as cover to creep closer.

The closest one, just a few cars from where Namjoon is crouched, trusts the vehicle’s protective abilities too much. He moves away from the front area of the car he’s cowering behind, probably intending to move one more car down, and Jin sees Junkook’s head snap to the movement. A second later and the gun follows, sending five or six bullets across the street to shred through the vehicle’s doors. At least one finds its target, because there’s a sharp yelp and the man collapses, writhing on the sidewalk.

It’d be easy for Namjoon or Jungkook to take him out. Seemingly following that train of thought, the former shifts, about to lean around the car he’s behind.

The same voice from before makes him pause. “Hold up! You’re right it ain’t gonna get easier, but that’s for you, not us. We got all fucking day to drown you assholes out.” A beat. “But maybe we don’t wanna go to the bother of getting new sleeves. Maybe we’re feeling generous. I got a deal for you. You give us Seokjin, and you walk away. Don’t, and I’m going to crush your fucking stacks myself. We know he was at the Ring, that he’s with you now. You really feel like facing Real Death for some prick of a Meth?”

Jungkook looks towards Namjoon, just a twitch of distraction, and his leader doesn’t immediately reply. He’s facing Jin’s hiding spot, eyes slightly narrowed, and Seokjin can only stare at him helplessly, heart in his throat. He doesn’t have a weapon, nothing to defend himself with, no bargaining chip to offer. Namjoon’s goodwill – and, realistically, Seokjin’s usefulness to Namjoon’s group – are his only shields, flimsy though they are. And they are flimsy. First the failure to find anything useful at the Ring, and then, what had Namjoon said? I’m not risking my crew for a Meth…

Right. So, he’s screwed.

“We can’t give him up.” Given that the hissed objection comes from Jungkook, Jin could not have been more surprised if God Himself had spoken from Heaven. Even Namjoon looks taken aback. The muscular gunman shifts his weight restlessly, eyes never leaving their scanning track across the road. “We can’t just let them beat on us like this,” he adds, not able to whisper because of Namjoon’s distance, but attempting to keep his voice low, nonetheless. “They’ll expect us to roll over like dogs all the time.”

He sounds disgusted at the prospect of losing, and for all that Jin feels a sudden rush of warmth towards the kid, he can’t help but think that competitiveness isn’t going to be enough to persuade Namjoon. A moment later, though, gaze still skimming the street, Jungkook says flatly, “Besides, they just sent a few people down the side streets further down. They’re probably gonna go around the block and come up behind us.”

Automatically Jin turns, checking their backs; the street is utterly deserted, for the moment. It makes him wonder, fleetingly, where the few civilians he’d seen before have gone (hopefully to call the police), but Namjoon pulls his attention back.

“He’s stalling, huh? I guess it was too much to expect this trash to be honest.” Namjoon shifts, pulls his green camo coat open and seems to be searching for something. “I’ve got two magazines left. You?”

“One.”

Namjoon tosses one of his black cases to Jungkook, who catches it deftly. The pink haired man is wearing a strange expression; he’s smiling, a thin, lopsided quirk of his lips, but when his gaze goes to Jungkook, his eyes are wretched. The sharp regret doesn’t change when they shift briefly to Jin, though Jin had been expecting rage, or at the least accusation. Maybe that wouldn’t have been fair – it’s not like he chose to be here, or at the Ring – but it wouldn’t have been surprising. However, when their eyes meet, Namjoon’s bloodless face suddenly flushes a bit, and he mouths something that Seokjin can’t catch from so far away.

It might have been sorry, but probably not.

Probably not, but Jin still finds himself saying, “I’ll watch your backs. If someone comes, you’ll know.”

He can only shrug at their surprise. At this point, he’s pretty sure that their funeral is going to be his funeral, too. Might as well do what he can. Besides, if they can hold out long enough… “Maybe the police are on their way.”

That’s more to himself than to Jungkook, but the other male shakes his head anyways. “Or maybe those assholes asked their Meth friends to call in a favour, and there are no cops around at all.”

“…You never learned about the power of positive thinking, did you?”

“Sorry, sir. They only teach that in Meth kindergarten,” Jungkook replies, smiling faintly. After a moment, though, even that falls away, like he’s lost the strength to keep it there. Quietly, so quietly Jin knows he’s not really meant to hear, Jungkook mumbles, “Wish Yoongi were here. Guess it’s good he’s not.”

For whatever reason, that makes the young man straighten a little, his shoulders squaring, and he calls to Namjoon. “I’m ready, hyung. Guess now’s as good a time as any to make up for that car thing.”

The leader, too, has stiffened his resolve. “You’ve got nothing to make up for, Jungkook. Even if you did, that tab’s going to stay open for a bit longer. We’re going to get out of here.” He even manages to make it sound like he believes it.

“Yeah, hyung, sure… I think they’re getting ready to rush us. Guess they figured out we’re not buying.” Jungkook’s voice is as steady as his hands, unshaking as they raise his pistol a little higher.

The both of them, ducked behind their respective vehicles, somehow manage to make it seem like they’re waiting for a boring game of hide-and-seek to end, not staring down a barrel pointed unerringly at their stacks. Seokjin turns back to fulfill his part of this little pageant, squinting down the street and ready to shout, yet his shoulders are trembling and pressing them hard against the dumpster can only do so much to still them. His eyes are welling with tears, too, and angrily Jin brushes them clear. He’s not even that afraid, because he’s pretty much used up his fear and adrenaline for today. But it’s a real pity to die for the second time in a week, beneath this ugly grey sky, along with two strangers who may or may not deserve it for kidnapping him. He wants to be angry at them for dragging him into this, but the blunt knives buried in his chest are made of grief and not rage.

Jin’s just so tired; spitting fury into the void he’s facing is too much effort. I hope Taehyung doesn’t hear about me dying again, he thinks dully. Taehyung is probably the only one in his life who would bother mourning him twice. His family would certainly have done so the first time, sincere in their sorrow, but emotion is just as much a resource as anything. They’d be too practical to grieve a second time, at least with the same depth.

There’s a flicker of movement far, far down the street where Seokjin’s facing. “Someone’s–” He stops, has to cough several times to dislodge the hoarseness in his throat, “Someone’s coming.” Now more than ever, he wishes he had a gun, or a knife, or anything, really. Not that it would make a difference – Seokjin’s not one of the children his parents take to the shooting range, not after the first few mediocre showings – but it would be nice to have something. Just so that he could pretend for a little longer that he has a chance, that maybe he could help the men preparing to die for him have a chance, too.

The figure is moving closer, pretty much in the middle of the street, as bold as you please, and Jin just guesses they’re that confident in their fellow gang members. Personally, he wouldn’t be, not after the show Jungkook had put on, but maybe these thugs just didn’t care if their sleeves got killed. If some Meth were going to give him a new body after he died, maybe he wouldn’t care either. Although…

His eyes narrow. The person approaching from his side is weaving. Not in the better-dart-around-to-make-it-harder-to-shoot-me manner, but in the stumbling-drunk-and-finding-it-hard-to-walk kind of way. He tips first to one side, then to the other, feet dragging and catching on the pavement, and it seems miraculous that he doesn’t drop each time. And actually… hadn’t he come from too many streets down? Wouldn’t the gangsters have cut through a road that was closer, so they didn’t have to be in the open for so long? And why hasn’t Jungkook shot this sucker yet?

At about the same time all of those questions are falling into a startled realization, three more people appear in Jin’s field of vision, closer than the other man. They’re definitely part of the attackers; they’re wearing the same hoodies and face masks, and they’re utterly intent on Jin’s side of the street. He doesn’t even think they see the other guy, and if they do, they ignore him and start inching down the road. Part of him wants to run, maybe down the alley on his left side, even if it just leads to a dead end. That would make it that much easier for their assailants to focus solely on taking out Namjoon and Jungkook, though. The least he can do is offer another target to distract their focus and their bullets.

He might not offer even that for long. One of the three is gesturing excitedly, clearly having realized who he is, and a second later the others raise their guns. Jin can’t help it. He shuts his eyes, throat clogged with the warning he should be giving, and braces himself, an eerie feeling of déjà vu resounding through his very marrow, deep and sickening.

And he waits. And waits. And later – he couldn’t have said how much later – three shots ring out. Just three. None of them sound anywhere close to him.

When Jin opens his eyes, he’s greeted by three bodies on the road and the same man from before walking by them. There’s panicked shouting going on behind his dumpster, further down the street, so much shouting that even though he thinks Namjoon and Jungkook are talking, he can’t tell what they’re saying. A series of sharp reports crack the tension like a bone breaking, and suddenly the air is filled with the staccato noise of gunfire. The man approaching him doesn’t seem bothered. He doesn’t even pause, just keeps walking, and there’s still some of that staggering gait in his movements, like he’s forgotten how to take steps and has to remember each time.

This close, the black police uniform is starkly obvious, and so is the blueish grey revolver the man has clasped loosely at his side. There’s nothing personal about the relief Seokjin feels – nothing like the comfort he’d experienced upon seeing Taehyung – but the searing release of pressure is utterly welcome, all the same. His first thought is perilously close to thanking God, even though he’s never been very interested in his parents’ religion.

His second thought is about how funny Jungkook’s face is going to be when he realizes there was at least one cop around.

The police officer finally makes it to him, although he doesn’t pause for long. He’s a wiry individual with a sweep of black bangs that almost touch his eyes, but it’s his smile that’s most eye catching. His grin is one of the largest and most cheerful things that Jin has ever seen, a sunny beam set with casual brilliance on the man’s heart shaped face, and in another situation, it also would have been one of the most uplifting things he’s ever seen, too.

Given that they are currently being shot at (did Jin see a bullet fling by the cop’s head or was he imagining things?) the grin is kind of scary. So is the look in the guy’s eyes, painfully bright and intent, like an operating table light. It’s a stark contrast to his smile.

“Please stay down,” the officer says, the words leaping extremely quickly from his mouth, and it kind of seems like he’s not really seeing Jin. “This will be over shortly.” Another screech as a bullet grazes the dumpster underlines his assertion.

He moves out of view, and more bangs assault Jin’s ringing ears. This time around, his courage and curiosity both fail him; he stays firmly put, refusing the urge to peek out from his cover. Besides, before much time has passed, he can hear Jungkook swearing, but it’s soft amazement and not anger that’s saturating his voice. The shots dwindle until there’s only one or two going off every few seconds, and moments later even that dies.

��They’re gone, Kwanghyun. You can come out.” That’s Namjoon, but Jin stays where he is, his brows furrowing. Who was Kwanghyun? The police officer?

Namjoon’s shadow falls over him and Jin looks up with a small, relieved smile. The other man’s face is just as drained of colour as before, and there’s a line of tension in his jaw that’s entirely inappropriate given that none of them died. “They’re gone, Kwanghyun,” Namjoon repeats, putting extra emphasis on the name. “Get up.”

Jin stares at him blankly for a moment before his brain catches up. His tentative smile dies. Oh. Right. He can’t be Seokjin in front of an officer. Seokjin was taken from his safe haven at the police station by Namjoon and the rest of his crew.

Embarrassed by how slow he was on the uptake, embarrassed by the tight knot of disappointment in his throat, Jin drops his gaze and starts to rise. Without him being aware of it, his legs have gone numb from his awkward positioning, and it’s a struggle to straighten with his knees threatening to buckle. Suddenly Namjoon hooks a hand under Jin’s elbow and helps him up. His hand remains there, and Seokjin unexpectedly finds himself desperate to believe that the warm support is just out of kindness.

Given the tightness of the hold, however, and the way Namjoon hasn’t put his weapon away, he can’t quite push himself into embracing the achingly appealing fantasy.

They walk out from behind the dumpster, Jin moving like a tottering old man. This sleeve is in shape, but even it can’t quite handle being compressed into a terror-induced crouch for such a long period of time. As the pins and needles jab at his legs, injecting feeling back in the most painful way possible, Jin lets his capturer tow him along. Once again, he’s faced with a question of what to do, and if anything, it’s harder to decide now than it was back at Ringwanderung.

There are bodies scattered across the street, for all the world looking like toys knocked over by some overenthusiastic toddler. None are moving, and the holes ripped into their heads or chests or throats are more than enough evidence for why. He finds himself having to breathe between his teeth and it’s a struggle to tear his gaze away from the bloody scene.

The police officer is speaking into his interface watch as they approach. “Yeah, I count fourteen – fourteen sleeves down. Don’t think any stacks are damaged. Yeah, fourteen. Yeah, I – it’s fourteen, you can all count that high. Make sure – you have to bring Organic Damage with you. I want – what? No, I didn’t get them all myself. Even my sleeve’s not that good.” He laughs, and the sound is… off. Hoarse and too fast. “Anyways, anyways, several ran off, so you need to get patrols down here… I don’t know why there aren’t any around now, it’s a bloody clusterfuck. I want Jaemin prepped to help one of you in interrogation. No, no, I’m not going to do it. I’m not – I’m off the clock, Tanesha, I’m not…”

More is said, but Jin’s having trouble focusing. Namjoon’s grip on his arm is too tight, starting to pass from pain into numbness, as though the sensation just traded its spot from his legs. He’s watching his captors from the corner of his eyes, just about as intensely as they’re watching both him and the cop. It’s dawning on him that this officer saving their lives doesn’t mean the same thing for them as it does for him. Jungkook’s gnawing at his lip, looking less composed now than when there’d been bullets flying, and while Namjoon is more collected, he’s not much more so.

He can’t tell what they’re thinking. Jin doesn’t know if he should care. What would happen if he just blurted out the truth, right here and now? To judge by the gangsters’ reactions and the numerous out of commission sleeves, this man can handle himself. Far better than Taehyung could, anyways. And he’s a police officer! His very life is supposed to be dedicated to protecting people. Wouldn’t he be far better equipped to handle this mess than Jin, too? There’s an overwhelming urge to just dump the situation into his lap, just to see what happens, just to relieve the tension.

Only… He’d saved Jin’s life already, there’s no doubt about that. And while he seems utterly relaxed, his gun slipped into its holster, both Namjoon and Jungkook are so on edge they look like they might just shoot the guy without Jin saying anything at all. What kind of payment would that be, setting them off on his saviour? And just after he’d almost done the same thing to Taehyung?

The officer finishes his conversation rather abruptly; if Seokjin didn’t know better, he might have thought he’d hung up on whoever he was talking to. This close up, he doesn’t look great. His face is shiny with sweat, black hair plastered to his forehead, and the dark circles under his eyes are so prominent his irises look about as black as his hair. The smile from before, unusual as it had been, is gone, replaced by a sharp, triangular frown.

That just makes Jin feel worse about the thought of bringing him into this situation. And as bad as he feels, he still needs to bite his tongue to keep it from going rogue and voicing a desperate attempt at escape. If he was smarter, or maybe just less tired, he might have tried to think of some coded way of asking for help, a secret phrase or a special look, but casting through his head right now is like scavenging through a swamp. There’s plenty of things there, half-formed and half-seen and covered in slick mud, but nothing Seokjin can get a confident grip on.

Besides, Jimin implied that some if not all of the police are in the pay of whatever Meth set his murder up. How can he tell if this man is one of those? Should he just blindly run to a person who could sign his Real Death warrant?

Indecision is a poison, slinking through his veins, paralyzing his muscles and tongue. In the end, Jin elects to do nothing – not because it seems like the best thing to do, but because doing anything else is more nerve-wracking than he presently has the strength to bear.

“Sorry about that,” the officer says, finally turning to them, and once again Jin has the impression that he’s not really looking at them. Or maybe that he’s only seeing exactly what he wants to see. “Ah, first, I need to ask… to…” He stops, confusion passing like a cloud over his expression. “I… can’t remember…” he mutters, and as he says it one of his legs suddenly spasms, a series of twitches and jerks that he doesn’t seem to notice.

Before it fully passes, the cop’s uncertainty evaporates, and his eyes are abruptly keen again, too sharp, almost sterile. “I’m Jung Hoseok, of the Thorton precinct.” Thorton, the official name for the Curve that no one ever uses except on paper. Jin is faintly surprised that this hellhole even has a precinct.

“Officer,” Namjoon replies, and at least he’s working on erasing the hostility from his face; Jungkook’s still got his chin belligerently lifted, and if Jin didn’t know better, he’d say the young man is a bit afraid. Jungkook lets Namjoon take the lead, though. “I’m Kim Doyoon. This is Jung Minjae… and he’s Lee Kwanghyun.” He says the list smoothly, and either he’s really good at making things up on the spot, or he’s got a few names memorized already.

From what he knows about Namjoon’s deliberate personality, probably the latter, but neither is bulletproof. What if the officer asks to scan their IDs?

He doesn’t, which seems very strange to Jin, but then again, this guy’s been acting strangely from the minute he showed up. Instead, the man says, “Right. Can I assume you’ve got registrations for your weapons?” and Jin’s heart stutters a little.

Needlessly so, apparently. Still calm, Namjoon nods, even goes so far as to proffer his gun. After a moment of hesitation, Jungkook follows suit. Hoseok uses his interface to swipe both of them, but the look he casts at the information screen that shows up in response is uninterested, even aimless. He keeps pulling and scratching at his black uniform, rocking on his heels, and every once in awhile the odd tremors repeat themselves in his hands, his legs, his shoulders. Seokjin can’t help but stare. He’s seen plenty of people under the influence of various substances, but he’s never seen anyone – least of all a cop – act like this.

Either oblivious to their looks or choosing to ignore them, Hoseok wanders over to the closest body, one of the first Jungkook took down, and nudges it with a booted foot. “I recognize a few of them,” he declares, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “They’re part of that group that’s been causing so much trouble down here, yeah?” He doesn’t seem to be expecting an answer. “At least that’s a dozen of the – it was a dozen, right? No. More than a dozen off the street. Maybe we can finally focus on some more important issues.”

Like the stolen stack of a Meth? Jin wonders.

As though one of them said something – although they haven’t, and Jungkook might even have stopped breathing – the officer’s eyes snap towards the trio. “Why’d they come after you? They’re not – seems like too many people.”

Once again, Namjoon’s left to field the question. Not that Seokjin has any choice in the matter. “Dunno. We were at the Ring before, having some fun, and this one,” he jerks his thumb at Jin, “mentioned how we’d won at the games downstairs. Maybe they overheard and wanted to take the creds we won?”

Hoseok’s overly alert gaze focuses on Jin, who’s doing his best to look repentant and not indignant about being given the blame. “Is that why he looks like he’s about to be sick? You guys get into some hard stuff while you were there?” He doesn’t appear to care about the legality of that, one way or another. Minor drug usage is probably pretty low on the list of things this precinct needs to deal with.

“No,” Namjoon replies. “I think that’s the whole being shot at thing.” As it happens, he’s right.

“Oh… right. I forgot most people don’t…” Almost get killed every day, he probably means to say, but trails off. “You handled yourself well,” Hoseok continues into the awkward pause, turning to Jungkook.

Who nods curtly. “Yeah… I practice at a range a lot. Place like this, you need to protect yourself, y’know? I – you were better.” There’s something ridiculous about how jealous Jungkook sounds. “I’ve never seen bullets do that before.”

Do what? Jin wants to ask, but even though Namjoon’s relaxed his hold on Jin’s arm (fractionally), he’s still more than a little worried that they’ll react badly to him trying to talk. Hoseok snorts a laugh, more impatient than amused. “That’s less me than the gun. It’s custom made. Practice enough and the bullets practically bend themselves.”

“Uh huh…” For some reason Jungkook isn’t convinced. He’s eyeing Hoseok like he expects the man to explode or something.

Namjoon gently breaks in. “I’m sorry, officer, but do we need to stay here? None of us are injured, and I think Kwanghyun would feel more comfortable at home.” Jin’s watched enough crime serials to know that the request isn’t going to be granted; that’s just not the procedure for a shootout on some street. He can’t imagine that Namjoon wants to go to the police station or be surrounded by a bunch of cops – hell, at this point even he doesn’t really want to – but it seems unavoidable.

“I should take your statements,” Hoseok says, but then he just stands there, jittery and unfocused. It’s not until Namjoon coughs that the officer starts and refocuses, at least a little. “I’m not – sorry, you’ll need to wait until the on-duty officers arrive.”

And without another word, the man turns away from them, meanders through the sleeves, careless of the way his boots squelch through the blood on the street. He’s checking each stack with his interface watch, maybe looking at identities or making sure they aren’t destroyed. Namjoon and Jungkook exchange looks, and Jin half expects them to decide to either make a break for it or try to take the cop out while he’s distracted.

Eventually Namjoon jerks a shoulder. “We’ve prepared for this,” he says, very low. “We’ll just have to wait. And – here.” He digs in his coat’s pockets and then shoves something at Seokjin, a slender, silver wristband, and it’s so simple that it takes Jin a moment to realize that it’s an interface device. Nothing at all like his own, with its sleek monochrome frame, but with a feeling of relief he puts it on anyways, blinks a few times as it syncs with his internal network. Being without one had almost felt like being naked, and a quick scroll through the limited features confirms that the band has an identity tied to it – real and stolen from someone else, or just made up, he doesn’t know. It can’t make calls or connect to other devices, and when he circumspectly brings up a web page, he finds that he can access all the posts but can’t make any of his own.

He supposes it would have been a little naïve to hope they’d make that kind of mistake.

Namjoon guides Jin and Jungkook to the side while Hoseok makes harried efforts to shoo away the people who are beginning to congregate around the scene, mysteriously interested now that bullets have stopped flying. They’re in a good position to see three black and yellow hovercars (Jin’s once again surprised the district even has any) sinking from the sky, kicking up a cloud of dirt, and police are suddenly descending on the scene like a swarm of locusts.

With quick professionalism they set up a cordon, the laser red lights bright in the gathering darkness, warning away curious onlookers. Immediately after, they begin to tag the bodies and collect spent cartridges, and a few more peel off, presumably to look for the remaining ambushers. Actually, they’re as methodical and skilful as any staff he’s ever seen (not that Jin’s seen many police setups) and he’s just beginning to feel a mixture of unease and admiration for whoever’s leading them when a tall, curly haired officer walks over to Hoseok.

And salutes him.

Jin is gratified to note that he’s not alone in his slack-jawed disbelief; Namjoon makes a little, incredulous sound, eyes widening before they abruptly narrow, and Jungkook actually leans forward like he’s seriously doubting his eyesight. They can’t hear what’s being said, but the two seem to be arguing, with a lot of hand waving by the woman while Hoseok stares anywhere but her and rocks on his heels. She jabs at his arm and he winces and steps back but doesn’t seem like he’s budging more than that. After several moments, the conversation winds down. Hoseok gestures at them, and both cops come over.

“This is Lieutenant Adebayo. She’ll take your statements and be leading this case. If we need anything else, she’ll be in contact with you, too.”

“For now,” the officer says, her eyes flashing a challenge. “I’m sure the captain will step in later once he’s got his wounds fixed up.”

Wounds? Jin scours the man’s body, then finds the spot the officer had poked at, on his upper arm. There is a rip in the fabric of the uniform, though the cloth is so dark it’s hard to tell if there’s any bleeding at the spot. And he certainly hadn’t seemed to act like someone who’d just been shot. Or shot multiple times.

The man looks away from his officer, and her brows furrow in frustration before she switches her attention to them. Adebayo turns out to be just as efficient as the rest of the team. She scans their bands – as suspected, Jin comes up as Kwanghyun – and she takes their accounts of the situation with decisive questions, forcing all of them to answer at random. Jin does his best to go along with the barebones of the story that Namjoon’s already constructed, more wary than ever of saying the wrong thing, and none of them contradict each other. She doesn’t seem inclined to suspicion, anyways; apparently the captain has all but cleared them. Before too long she’s lowering her omni-tool and shutting off the recording.

Hoseok’s wandered off and is lingering by the side, just inside of the red-light tape. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. They dance around his body, tapping at his thighs, sweeping across his chest, or fretting at the air like he’s trying to grab something. One of the other policemen is attending to him, and sure enough, with his jacket removed, his arm is bleeding from two spots, sluggish trickles that he pays no mind to. The medic is struggling to get it wrapped in between his fidgeting.

Jin’s not entirely sure, but it seems like the rest of the collection of officers, some ten of them, are so blatantly not looking at Hoseok that they must be making an effort at it. Just once, Seokjin catches one of them glancing at Hoseok, with an expression so troubled it’s too personal to just be a subordinate worrying about her wounded boss.

Adebayo notices where he’s looking. “You’re lucky Captain Jung came along when he did,” she says stiffly. “I don’t know why these thugs jumped you guys, and I really don’t know why they kept at it when you shot the first few, but you’d be dead if he hadn’t shown up.”

Inclining his head, a bare acknowledgement, Namjoon says, “I think you’re right. Although Captain Hoseok mentioned there weren’t any patrols around this area. Why was he here?” His inquiry is more aggressive than he’s sounded throughout, a stormy tension drawing his forehead tight.

“I don’t know, but that’s not any of your business,” is her flat answer as she pulls back a little.

“Maybe not, but I’m just concerned. Why weren’t there any police patrols around? This isn’t a safe place to begin with. Should we be scared? Are the police giving up on this area? Do I need to tell our neighbours that we’re alone now, that we can only count on ‘off-duty’ cops?” He pauses, studying her with an intensity that has her shifting, and then asks, “Or do the Meths just want the police patrolling somewhere else?”

At the last question, her chin jerks up, and Adebayo snaps, “The Meths don’t say where we go, and no, we’re not abandoning this neighbourhood. Of course we aren’t!” She stops, takes a deep breath. “Listen, I live around here, too. I want it to be safe. We’re going to be patrolling more in the future. This just happened, coincidentally, at a bad time. And the captain saved your asses and got shot in the process, so you shouldn’t be going around badmouthing us to your neighbours or anyone else!”

Abruptly his penetrating expression falls away, replaced by an embarrassment that seems artificial to Jin, a mask placed over some other, stronger emotion. “I’m sorry. It’s just – it seems to be getting worse around here. I haven’t been – I just wouldn’t want to lose anyone.”

Adebayo softens and relents. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that. Look, there’s not much more you can do here. The captain said you weren’t injured?” Wordlessly Namjoon nods. “We have your info; we’ll give you a call or drop by once we’re done interviewing some of these.” Her careless gesture indicates the sleeves being loaded up into one of the hovercars. “Best you can do is go home and rest. You’re not planning on leaving Triptych anytime soon, are you?”

“No, Lieutenant. Last I checked, you need a helluva lot of creds for a vacation.”

Making a face, she steps away. “Don’t remind me. Just keep it that way, huh? We’ll probably need you to testify at some point.”

“You got it.”

Not needing to be told twice, Namjoon pulls Jin along, Jungkook keeping pace alongside them. Jin glances back, in time to see Lieutenant Adebayo rest a hesitant hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, leaning forward to speak to him. He also watches long enough to see the lanky man gently shrug off that supportive hand and turn his back on his subordinate, on the sprawl of bodies, and, it seems to Jin, on the whole situation altogether.

#namjin #namjin fanfic #namjoon x seokjin #member x member #namjoon #seokjin #jin #my fanfic

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ceescedasticity · 4 years

Text

SIgns chapter is coming along

Slowly working my way towards the colossal screaming fight...

By the time Barney stumbled down eight flights of stairs into the original part of the Stanton farmhouse, Mary, James, and Jane had dragged Will inside as far as the kitchen and gotten him propped in a chair. Will was soaking wet, and a trail of dark water led out of the kitchen to, he assumed, the porch in question.

Well… the puddles were too thin to be tar, anyway. Possibly not water, though.

James was trying to dry Will off with towels. Jane was trying to take Will's pulse at his wrist, which might have been easier if she hadn't been wearing rubber dishwashing gloves for some reason. Mary was standing off to the side, wearing a raincoat over probably pajamas, and clutching one of the pitchforks she used to hunt underlings.

He must have made some sort of sound, because a jolt of adrenaline later he was ducking under a swing from the pitchfork. "Hey, stop, it's me!" he said, as Jane and James looked up in surprise.

"What — Barney. Sorry," Mary said. "I thought you were an imp. What are you doing here?"

"I had a Prospit dream of Jane getting your call," Barney said. Still nothing of this actual scene, though. "You might want to call Simon and Bran now or they're likely to feel very left out."

"Like that will help," James muttered. He threw a black-stained towel off to the side and wrapped another one around Will's head, covering his hair. He was also wearing rubber dishwashing gloves. "I think it's off his face and neck, just mind the collar—"

Jane peeled off one of the dishwashing gloves and reached — very tentatively — to touch the side of Will's neck. She relaxed minutely after contact and started feeling for the pulse. "He's like ice…"

Hmm. "The gloves — are you trying not to touch the… water?"

"I don't think it's water," Mary said. "And yes, if you get it on your skin it makes you… see things." She shivered.

"Things?"

"Later," Jane said, straightening up. "I think we should try to warm him up. I'll call Bran and Simon. You three see if you can get Will in a hot bath — or at least out of those wet clothes." She handed Barney the dishwashing gloves and left the room. He wondered if she knew where the phone was.

James groaned. "I guess we'd better, if we can't touch his clothes without… whatever— Bloody wake up, Will!" Will didn't respond to the shaking.

"I'll start the bath and get some pajamas out of his room — or a robe," Mary said. "And patrol to make sure there aren't any imps around…"

Barney would have expected this to lead to an accusation of skiving off the hard work from James, but he just said, "And a bucket for the old clothes and the towels," and let her go.

"So just the two of us are supposed to be carrying him, then?" Barney asked. (Barney might — might — be more qualified to drag people around than Jane. He wouldn't make any such statement about Mary.)

James looked down. "She was really shaken up, by— She didn't know about the… water stuff when she found him, right? So she just tried to wake him up and check him over, and I'm not sure what she saw but she's barely holding together right now."

"Oh." Barney eyed the dark puddles on the floor.

"I mostly just remembered the winter of Will's bloody eleventh birthday, and then there was some — octopus thing with teeth. Then your sister thought of the rubber gloves." James scowled. "We might as well get his coat and shoes off here, they'll be even wetter than the rest."

It turned out to be difficult to untie waterlogged shoelaces while wearing rubber gloves; James announced he was getting the scissors. Barney got Will's coat unfastened and off, and looked around for some idea of where to put it—

The coat had… holes in it. Four in the front, three more in the back, like someone had just cut holes in the coat with scissors — or with a knife. A knife might be more likely.

Returning to the kitchen, James saw the coat and dropped the scissors. "Bloody hell, Will—"

Closer inspection revealed matching holes in Will's shirt, but unmarked skin beneath. Any stains on the fabric were covered over by the dark 'water'.

Will had healed from getting hit by a meteor, Jane had said.

"Bloody— Damn you, you just had to go off by yourself to bloody Derse—" James cursed his way through cutting Will's shoelaces and getting the shoes off. He threw them violently into a corner. "Just leave the coat here. Let's get him in the bath."

Barney was better than no help dragging Will to the bathroom, but he didn't think by much. Happily there was a bath on the ground floor. "Aren't there — did something happen to your dogs?"

"They're hiding," James said. "Crawled under Mary's bed right after Will fell through the porch roof and still won't come out."

"Oh."

"Through the porch roof, bloody hell, Will. You are the worst baby brother, no one gets to complain about me ever again—"

Will didn't react at all to James (possibly somewhat vindictively) cutting the rest of his clothes off, but he wasn't in the hot water a minute before he made a faint noise, and started shivering.

"Oh thank God," James said. "Will? Will, can you hear me?"

Will's head lolled forward, and he vomited black sludge into the bath. James and Barney both recoiled; James lost his balance and tipped over backwards off the stool he was sitting on, and almost cracked his head on the sink. Barney had to lunge forward to grab Will before he fell forward into the dirty water.

A splash hit his arm, above the glove, and.

And.

He'd already gotten most of it, he thought, from memory-gap-detection-plus-Skaia. He already had most of it. Just, here was the rest. Odd incidents they hadn't stumbled across yet. The part of the kidnapped-for-scrying incident he only knew from Simon's account, and what Simon hadn't had eyes to see.

A few realizations of his own, that he'd never much spoken of. (Merlin.)

…And also some images of… octopus things with teeth, in around the edges. That, too. Those were new.

Since he had remembered almost all of it before, it wasn't too hard to shake it off enough to keep from drowning Will in the bath. But it was still… It wasn't a nice way to get memories back.

<hr>

Making the phone calls had been partially an excuse to get herself out of the way while they got Will a bath, but Jane hadn't expected the calls to take very long — there wasn't much of an explanation to give, so it was really just notifying them so they could show up in person. (Which, yes, would almost certainly result in another fight, but everyone deserved to know.) Her plans went awry when Bran, her first call, never picked up the phone. She managed to avoid panicking, just — what if Bran had done something to bring Will back and make himself missing instead?! — and called Simon, who at least answered in a reasonable amount of time. Simon had to pass through the Land of Thrones and Meter as his first stop in the Gate-circuit anyway, and he promised to take his walkie-talkie and find Bran.

Which was a very reckless promise and he shouldn't have made it but, as it turned out, Bran was just hunting ogres — out of earshot from his phone, but within sight of his house, at least from second gate-elevation. Simon chased him down and yelled at him about going out underling-hunting without his walkie-talkie, and then told him about Will, and got left in the dust as Bran bolted back for the house.

Notifications taken care of, then.

She followed the sound of voices to a small ground-floor bedroom. Will looked — better, cleaned up, but he remained frighteningly pale and still. Mary was piling what looked like a third quilt on top of him. (Mary had found time to get dressed properly. Just as well.)

"Did you get lost?" Barney said, a little waspishly.

"No, Bran was out hunting ogres in the middle of the night for some reason so it took a while to get him."

"It's not exactly night—" Barney started.

The planets did sort of have day sides and night sides as they rotated, towards or away from Skaia, but nothing like real nights or days (two-thirds seemed to be in some sort of permanent twilight), and they were all out of sync with each other anyway. "Yes, I know, but we agreed to honor the clocks."

James muttered something which was probably "You agreed to honor the clocks".

"How is he?" Jane asked, rather than pursue that.

"You were right, the bath helped," Barney said. "He's warmer now, and he moved a little, but—"

"But he also started puking up this…" James screwed up his face. "This stuff—"

"Like the water on his clothes, but worse," Mary said.

"You— Mary, I warned you not to touch anything in the bathroom!"

"I didn't, I can just tell," Mary snapped back. "I think… I think it's a Derse thing. That I can tell, I mean."

Jane eyed Mary thoughtfully. "I guess we can ask Simon and Bran about it?"

"I don't know what Derse has to do with it, but I think Mary's right about it being a more… concentrated version of the other stuff," Barney said. "…What did you see, earlier?"

"Not a lot." Jane had been very careful, because by the time she arrived Mary and James had cautionary tales to share. "There was… a storm, mostly, I think? And something with a lot of eyes."

"Hmm," Barney said.

"What?"

"I don't want to explain it more than once."

"Is this a Space thing?" Mary asked.

"…Sort of." And then he wouldn't say anything else until Bran came crashing down the stairs like an avalanche in work boots, Simon chasing along in his wake.

"What's wrong with him?" Bran demanded, after barely a greeting.

"We don't know," Jane said, and then let Mary and James explain the porch roof and the dark water, only speaking up again at the end to say that her Hero-of-Life powers weren't providing any information on injuries.

"So far," Simon said optimistically.

"So far," Jane conceded, but her Hero-of-Life powers were only maybe sixty percent sure Will was alive, so she wasn't expecting much help from that direction.

"His coat and his shirt were cut up," James said. "Like— I don't know what like."

Like he'd been stabbed, and had healed, but hadn't been awake to fix his clothes, maybe?

"Look," Simon said. "Logically, being soaked in this weird water that makes people see things might knock him out, right? So now that he's dry and warm… give him a chance to wake up?"

#writing babble #crossover classpects

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ttooccaa · 4 years

Text

The impeccable timing of everything - Chapter 3

3/5

Guess who completely forgot they also post here... heh...

Rating: Teen

Ao3 link

Chapter 3: Slipping through my fingers

Central City

November 24, 8:30 PST

Bart was sweating, he was currently on his morning run around the neighborhood. He knew he didn’t really need to be that slow, but it felt good just to run like a regular person around a world that wasn’t apocalyptic and filled with fear and dread. He felt his phone buzz, it momentarily silenced his music, he swiftly fished it out of his pocket. As soon as he saw that Ed had texted him he slowed down to a jog and then completely stopped. Bart leaned against a graffitied wall that said “SHAZAM!” in huge red and yellow letters. The handsome face of the hero was also there. He opened up his chat with Ed.

stressED: What is up, my dude? 😎

A child that was hurt™: getting my gains

Bart though for a moment and then quickly took a selfie. He looked at it for a second and swiftly deleted it, then he took another one, that went to the trash as well. After a couple more tries he sent the one he hated the least. He waited and felt his heart stop at Ed not answering immediately. He finally felt his phone ping and opened the message almost with superspeed.

stressED: what a stud 😏

A child that was hurt™: Thanks

stressED: I was talking about Shazam

Just as Bart felt his heart go up his throat until he received another text.

stressED: kidding!

Bart heard himself audibly sigh, but then caught himself. He obviously knew that Ed was joking from the beginning, but just when had such little things started to affect him so much. Perhaps around the time he started noticing Ed’s light dusting of freckles or that his smile was always a little crooked to the left or that his eyes shone almost like he had little specks of gold in them… he was so whipped. He returned his attention back to his phone.

A child that was hurt™: and u?

stressED: Just finished telling Kate’s parents where she’s at, also the correctional facility where Wayne stayed and his uncle as well. Also informed Kole’s foster home. I know that they basically sold her out, but it’s policy.

A child that was hurt™: Sounds like it went well

stressED: All of them, pieces of work. Kate’s parents basically told me to fuck off, Wayne’s uncle said that he won’t pay for the center, didn’t listen to me at all! The foster home and juvie denied either had ever stayed with them

A child that was hurt™: Geez, rough. Maybe we’ll find evidence today that will prove that they were involved, put ‘em in jail and all that good stuff

stressED: Hah, yeah I sure hope so

stressED: Moving on to lighter topics, I’m getting everything ready for Kate, Kole and Wayne

A child that was hurt™: It’s power testing and training day!

stressED: Hope the Center manages to survive this time as well. We are still grieving the loss of room C5

A child that was hurt™: RIP

stressED: forever in our hearts 😪

stressED: Good luck on the mission

A child that was hurt™: Thanks, I’ll make sure to bring you a souvenir 😉

stressED: Just make sure you get back safe

A child that was hurt™: Will do, amigo.

stressED: Kick some trafficker’s ass for me 😤😤😤

A child that was hurt™: Anytime, also good luck with the golden trio

stressED: Golden trio?

A child that was hurt™: 😉😉😉

stressED: Whatever… love talking to you, but gg

A child that was hurt™: bye⚡️

Bart briefly looked at Ed’s picture in his phone and grinned even wider – it was a close up of his face, Ed was mid teleportation, the gold around him shining and engulfing parts of his face. He had one eyebrow raised and was grinning mischievously. His honey brown eyes were looking at something to the right. It was a great picture that had happened by complete accident, though Bart was very grateful for it.

Jaime would often complain that Ed was the only one with a good picture in his phone, but come on. Jaime’s was hilarious, it was him laying on the ground in pain, because Traci had accidentally sent a small rock flying towards his nuts. She was leaning behind him, apologising so much that her mouth was a blur. Truly a classic.

Bart quickly realised that he’d been leaning against the wall and grinning at his phone for a good chunk of time, so he put it back in his pocket and continued his slow jog with renewed energy.

Taos

November 24, 9:45 MST

Ed felt like he was going to faint, well not really, but damn the feelings had hit him so hard he just felt overwhelmed. How could Bart just casually send him such a picture?! Ed had seen the other teen many times flushed and sweaty, but it was always during training or a mission, staring at him could get him hurt or cost him his life. The little glimpses didn’t compare to a picture. So yeah, maybe he’d forgotten how to breath for a second and maybe he’d also saved the picture, but could you really blame him? He was just a guy with a crush after all.

He took a big breath and checked that he was still alone in the room and nobody had seen his little panic attack. Ed was getting the room they used for meta-human power testing and training. There was a huge reinforced glass between where the metas will be, the people outside the glass will be there to keep track of the metas’ vitals and and so on and so fort. His father also wanted Ed outside because things could always go awry with metas who couldn’t control their powers. But Ed knew that due to his teleportation, it was better to be inside, Wendy wasn’t the only one who’d lost control over her powers. During those times Ed became especially useful.

He was putting in some commands into the computer, when he checked the time, 10:00 am, that means that Neut and the others will be arriving soon, also the STAR labs appointed scientists and doctors here to watch over their training and make sure everything goes on smooth. Well as smooth as it could be when dealing with emotionally unstable teenagers with recently received powers.

He heard the automatic door open and turned to see the head doctor and his team coming into the room.

Ed went over to them “Hi, Dr. Wilcox.”

The man gave him one of tight smiles and shook his hand “Good, to see you again, Eduardo.”

Ed smiled in return, while his relationship with Dr. Wilcox wasn’t the best, due to still harbouring memories of being tested on by him, Ed knew that the doctor was a good guy and even better at his job.

The doctor sat down in front of one of the computers “I read the report you sent in about their powers, but is there more you could tell me?”

“Well we know that Kate can “melt” stuff and that Wayne similarly to Thirteen can influence the world around him. Kole still hasn’t shows us her powers, but we know it’s something similar to crystallisation.” Ed explained.

Just as he was about to text Neut to tell him to bring everybody in, the automatic doors opened and the other youth counselor came in, with Kate, Kole and Wayne in tow. Kole was holding onto Nathaniel’s arm and smiling brightly. She was almost hanging off of it.

All three of them looked times better then when they first came in, their original clothes had been washed and cleaned, so the teens had opted for a combination of both their clothes and those issued by the center.

Kate was wearing high waisted jeans with a loose Meta-human Youth Center T-shirt tucked in. Her longe blonde hair was falling around her shoulders.

Kole had a blue, cloth tied around her head like a headband, a purple skirt with stockings with holes in them and a blue zipped up hoodie. The blue really made her orange hair pop.

Since Wayne had come in in a plain T-shirt and pants (which he later explained were his uniform in juvie) he was wearing clothes from the center, simple grey sweats and a black T-shirt. He was definitely the most upset at not having any of his regular clothes with him, missing his leather jacket the most, though Ed had promised to help him, maybe arrange for him to go back to his uncle’s and get some stuff, but only after this whole thing had blown over.

Ed went over to them and grinned at Neut “What timing! I was just about to text you.”

The other counselor just smiled and shrugged “We’ve known each other for how long now?”

“Fair point.” The Argentinian mused, then turned towards the teens “Ready to unleash those powers?”

Kate smirked “Hell yeah!”

Wayne just rolled his eyes “Let’s get this over with.”

Ed smiled good-naturally and moved towards the doctors “Just so know, everything is recorded, that’s so it can be analysed later. This is Dr. David Wilcox, he is the head scientist, if you have any questions, turn towards him. When we are done, we will compile everything we know and write up reports on your powers, you’ll receive a copy, of course.”

The dark haired man nodded towards them, then turned around and continued adjusting things on the screen in front of him.

Ed mentioned for the other metas to follow him inside the space used for testing. They did albeit Wayne was a bit reluctant.

As they were entering Neut said “You’ll do great and if you don’t, it doesn’t matter, just don’t blow anything up!” He gave them a wide grin and a thumbs up.

Ed shook his head, but was smiling. He hoped the lame joke would ease a bit of their worries, when the door clicked closed behind them, he started talking “Okay, so we will start one at a time, each of you will show their power, don’t be nervous if you don’t have full control of it or anything like that, if you can’t do it at first, again, it’s okay, just concentrate.”

“I’ll start.” Kole volunteered.

She closed her bright green eyes and concentrated. Her right arm started to slowly harden and change in color, the surface became shiny and smooth, like a crystal. It had a pinkish hue to it. She opened her eyes “Alright!”

Ed nodded “Okay then, let’s see what you can do.”

Kole smirked, she raised her arm and aimed towards one of the targets not so far away, a couple of crystal shards flew, but didn’t come near the target, they were small and fragile and the moment they hit the ground they broke. She sighed, her expression sad.

Wayne made a noise of amusement and was swiftly hit in the arm by Kate’s elbow.

“Hey!”

She gave him an annoyed look, that appeared even more threatening because of their height difference, Kate being almost one head taller than him.

He closed his mouth then rolled his eyes and looked the other way.

Kole’s expression turned sour, anger and annoyance clear on her face. As her emotions became more erratic and panic overtook her, she quickly started losing control over her powers. The crystallization started to grow, it went over her neck reaching her face. That just added to her panic. The crystals became jagged and started tearing up her hoodie. Their light pink color turned dark. She was panicking and waving her arms around “Not the hoodie!”

Kate and Wayne looked like they were on the verge of panic themselves. Looking at each other and Kole frantically.

‘Well, that was just a matter of time.’ Ed took in a big breath, he knew that telling her to calm down wouldn’t do her any good, the one who should remain calm was Ed. He started talking “Kole, listen to me, focus on my voice.” She turned her wide eyes at him. “I want you to close your eyes and concentrate, breath with me.” He continued instructing her, while Kole slowly started to calm down. Slowly, but surely the crystals started to disappear, turning back into her regular skin.

Ed sighed, relived, while Kole herself looked emotionally drained.

“Thanks.”

Ed smiled “Of course.”

Kole slowly picked at the gashes in her hoodie left by the crystals, she looked sad.

The blonde came up behind her and put her hand on her shoulder “I think it looks cooler, very grungy!”

She looked over her shoulder at Wayne. He was quick to join in “Yeah, totally.” There was a twinge of regret in his eyes.

The Argentinian just sighed “Want to take a brake?”

The other three nodded.

Ed smiled and started walking towards the automatic doors, while the doors were opening he thought ‘I hope Bart’s doing better than me.’

Hollywood

November 24, 9:47 PDT

Bart had completely zoned out of the meeting. He knew he should be listening but at this point they were just saying the same things over and over again. He looked at Jaime, who looked bored, but was at least pretending to listen, while Virgil, well Virgil looked like he was somewhere else entirely, at least mentally.

Bart sighed and his mind continued to drift away, of course the first thing he thought of was Ed, it still slightly bothered him when Ed had just left him hanging for a bit during their morning chat, but he was sure he was overthinking… or at least hoping he was.

For now he decided to focus on more pleasant topics regarding Ed, like his cute accent and his amazing ass. Sometimes he would imagine what a date with him would be like, he’d never been on one and he wanted to see if it was like in the movies. Jaime and Cassie told him that it was like hanging out, except with a lot more physical contact, Bart didn’t mind the idea of that, not one bit.

But still doubts would creep in his thoughts, doubts like what if he was wrong about all of this? What if Ed had lost interested? What if he actually liked somebody else the entire time, but was just nice? What if the little flirting made him uncomfortable rather than flattered? ‘Feelings are too hard, man. They jump up and down and make your whole head a mess.’ He thought while twirling a pencil at superspeed between his fingers.

Finally the mission discussion was over. All of the teens got up, Virgil stretched and Bart heard the slight cracking of his joints. Technically the teens didn’t have anything else to do today, only classes but they were later this day. Bart promptly told everybody he’ll be heading home, but decided to forgo the Zeta tube and run instead, good thing he was in suit.

Just as he was entering Arizona, he heard his phone ping. He grabbed it and saw that it was a text from Ed. He was surprised, he didn’t except Ed to be able to text him today, because of the metas. He texted him back, still running home to Central. Apparently things had gone just as Ed had excepted, though he had hoped for better. They had a little recess going on right now and Ed asked Bart, if he wanted to come. That stopped the speedster dead in his tracks, he thought for a moment, then decided ‘Hell yeah, I can come.’ He texted the usual terrible pun, that all the Flashes used and headed towards Taos.

Taos

November 24, 11:12 MST

Ed was feeling a little nervous, though he didn’t know why, he saw Bart all the time, this time will be like all the others, but still… his excitement over seeing him definitely beat out the uneasiness. He was still surprised how he had just asked him to come, he’d done it before he even realised. Bart had said yes, so he must be free right? Ed hoped he wasn’t being a bother. He was waiting for the speedster outside the main entrance, before his thoughts could spiral further Bart had appeared next to him, a trail of dust like in cartoons falling to the ground behind him.

“Hey there, amigo!” Bart winked.

Ed nodded in greeting “Sorry, hope you weren’t busy.”

Bart just grinned “Never busy enough to decline seeing you.”

This resonated pleasantly with Ed, he smiled slightly embarrassed, a blush evident on his face.

They walked over to one of the benches and sat down. There was a tree right over it, so it made a pleasant shadow over the sun. Bart looked at Ed, who was wearing a dark red sweatshirt with desaturated stripes going in the middle, they were colored like the rainbow. He had light wash, high waisted jeans on, which were cuffed. He was also sporting a pair of dark yellow vans.

Bart was in his Kid Flash costume, which was good, because he could use his superspeed that way.

Ed started talking first “How has your day been?”

“Eh, pretty boring, honestly. Just had a meeting about the mission, I’m so over debriefing… it takes forever.”

Ed ran a hand through his dark and unruly curls “Even when you phase out?”

“Even when I phase out.”

“Ugh.” Ed rolled his eyes

“And you?”

Ed shook his head from side to side “Nothing I wasn’t expecting. Though, none of them want a collar, which is great. Also I’ve convinced them to come to one of the meetings were we talk about everything that has happened.”

Bart smirked “So group therapy.”

Ed rolled his eyes, but was smiling “It’s not technically group therapy.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pleasant silence between them, just enjoying the slightly chilly breeze, that November brought, but still Bart pondered why Ed had decided to call him over. Was there a reason? Or was it just like that? Was something bothering Ed? Did he want to tell him something?

Finally he decided to just ask “So it’s something up or…?”

Ed’s eyes moved over to him “Oh, well I guess, I just wanted to see you? Were you busy?”

Ed had just wanted to see him! Bart’s heart leaped with joy “No-not at all! I just, you know, wanna make sure you’re doing alright?” He was slightly red, hoping he hadn’t offended Ed.

The Argentinian smiled and looked straight at Bart “Yeah, I’m fine, again, I just… missed you, I suppose…” His blush was definitely growing by the end of that sentence. His hand had slowly moved towards Bart’s.

The speedster noticed this and also moved his hand closer, then stated to talk “I missed you too.” He had moved his hand over Ed’s. He was blushing hard, but screw it.

Both of the were leaning slowly closer to each other. None of them knew what exactly they were planning to do when they met in the middle, but they were sure they were gonna figure it out- but then a loud banging noise was heard from somewhere inside the Center. Both of them jerked away and looked at the building.

Bart started to talk “Do you think we should-“ he was cut off by another such noise.

“Definitely.” Ed nodded. He turned his hand around and held Bart’s, then both of them teleported to where Ed assumed the noise had come from.

He was right, it was the cafeteria. Inside of it, Wendy was up in a small tornado with sparks flying around Leslie and Andy half turned into mist. Half of one of the table was gone next to Kate, while Wayne was wobbling in the middle of it, until he finally fell down. Kole was just standing wide eyed in the middle of everything. There were pieces of food splattered on the ground.

Ed blinked once “What happened?”

“Oops, busted.” Leslie said and Wendy quickly got back on the ground.

Andy looked at him, then smirked and raised an eyebrow, indicating Bart and Ed’s still linked hands. Both teens blushed hard and let go of each other. Andy just rolled her eyes.

Ed sighed “I will repeat again, what happened and where is Neut?”

Wayne actually spoke from where he was getting up from the other side of the table “Some chick needed help.”

“Celia.” Kate was kind enough to clarify.

Ed put his hands on his hips “Okay, that’s one question answered, now the other one?”

He turned towards the three girls, who’d been here longer. Leslie was the first to speak up “I love it when you do that pose, it’s like I’m getting scolded by mom.” She chuckled.

“Leslie.” Ed dragged on her name, obviously tired.

“Okay, okay, I’ll talk, just don’t ground me.” She winked at end, grinning. “Well, we saw that the tree of them-“ She pointed towards Wayne, Kate and Kole “-weren’t training anymore and decided to say hi. Chatted for a bit, Kole asked us what our powers were.”

Ed cut her of “And you decided to show her…” He’d already heard that story a million times.

Leslie winked “Bingo!”

The Argentinian waited, but nothing, so he encouraged them “Okay and then?”

Wendy answered “Oh, you know, the usual, something went wrong. This time it was Kate getting scared and melting half the table, on which Wayne had gotten up after Leslie shocked him with a bit of electricity. Also he screwed up my tornado and one of the other tables went flying, hit the ceiling and fell down.” She pointed at what Ed assumed was a table, but now more resembled a beat up piece of metal. She was grinning all sweet like everything was a-okey.

Bart couldn’t help it and snorted at the sheer stupidity of the situation. Ed looked like he’d aged ten years, but also smiled.

“Okay then since you all seem so lively, we can get back to training.” He indicated for Kole, Kate and Wayne. “And you three-“ Ed turned towards the girls “clean up this mess and make a list of everything that needs replacing.”

All three of them groaned and he smirked “Come on, not the first time you’re doing this.”

“Exactly.” Andy’s dry tone replied.

Wayne, Kate and Kole headed for the testing room.

While Ed and Bart went into the hallway. Ed rubbed the back of his neck “Well, that happened.”

Bart chuckled “It sure did. Well since you have your hands full…”

“Yeah.”

Both of them were suddenly feeling embarrassed and self conscious, perhaps because of the handholding, perhaps because of the leaning in… Apparently, they both decided some things were better off left for later.

“Hey, thanks for coming, wish you could stay, but you know…” Ed indicted for the testing room with his head.

Bart nodded “Yeah…” The brunett sucked in a quick breath and continued talking “Wanna hang out some time?”

The Argentinian blinked “Like go out?”

The other teen nodded “Yeah, we haven’t, you know, had the time and… I like spending time with you.” He was feeling a bit awkward at the end.

Ed was a bit red as well “I’d... really like that.” Then he added quickly “I also like spending time with you!” He slightly bumped Bart’s shoulder with his fist at the end of the sentence.

“Text me, when you’re free, hermano! It’ll be totally crash!” Bart winked at the end.

“Likewise.” The teleporter smiled.

Bart gave him one last grin, before leaving in a streak of yellow, only leaving dust behind.

The short walk to the testing room was just the perfect amount of time Ed needed to have a small panic attack. ‘Go out?!’ He thought ‘Like a date?!’ He panicked for a bit more, which consisted of him coming up with various scenarios in which it was a date and it all went great and a couple overly exaggerated ones in which Bart was so disappointed he somehow left for the future.

Ed took one last breath and walked into the room, the other three metas were leaning against one of the desks on the outside of the enforced glass.

Wayne’s midwestern accent welcomed him soon after he entered the room “Took you long enough.”

“Chill out. He was just making plans with his boyfriend.” Kate said, grinning.

Ed was quick to retaliate “Boyfriend?! No, me and KF we are just uhh… friends… Okay, that right now isn’t important. C’mon.” He quickly changed the subject and headed towards the automatic doors of the training ground.

He turned around when he heard all three enter, Kate was still grinning, while Wayne was a bit red. Although for him blushing a bit was like getting burnt for most people, because of his pale complexion. Kole looked a bit nervous, but determined.

The Argentinian started talking “Okay, who’s next or do I have to choose?”

Kate stepped out of the uneven line “I can melt? Well it’s no exactly melt, disintegrate? Things. Is there something in here that needs to go?” She looked around.

Ed thought for a moment then went over to one of the chests, he came back with what looked like a bent out of shape batarang. “After they loose their shape this much, they are pretty useless for throwing, but they are still good for demonstrations.” He handed it over to Kate.

The blonde concentrated and her fingertips went through the metal. She twirled it around her pointer finger and turned towards Ed, her expression serious “I can control it pretty okey, but when I’m suddenly overtaken by a strong emotion, all that control just slips away.”

Ed nodded “Don’t worry, we can work that out. It’ll also be good to figure out what exactly you can and cannot “melt.” Though melt isn’t the right word, they just disappear as if dissolving to their molecular level.”

Kate tilted her head to the side “Well I haven’t tried it with anything organic or living and breathing.” She thought for a second, then turned towards her companion with a mohawk “I nominate Wayne to help out.”

“Hell no.” Came his immediate reply.

Ed chuckled “I’ll go get an apple or something for the organic test, though I’m not sure for the living and breathing one, maybe a plant?” He mused.

Kate laughed “I’m sure there are some weeds around the center.”

The peer counselor smirked, then turned towards Wayne.

The pale teen bit his lip and shrugged “I don’t know, man, I know I can screw around with people, but I’m not sure about inanimate objects.”

“Only one way to find out.” Said Kole as she took the abused batarang from Kate and placed it on the ground in front of Wayne. “The floor is yours.”

He rolled his eyes and looked at the batarang, he concentrated and narrowed his eyes, but nothing happened. Wayne groaned in frustration.

“Guess not.” Kate piped.

The pale teen turned towards her and rolled his eyes.

The Argentinian thought for a moment, the idea was stupid but it was worth a shot “What about me? We can try it out that way, if something goes wrong,

I can teleport and there’s also a medic nearby…” Ed thought for a second, he was more worried on putting the pressure of maybe hurting him on Wayne, rather than actually getting hurt.

“Well that’s a stupid ass idea.” Wayne said, crossing his arms.

“Kate has already been on the receiving end of it a few times.” Ed pointed out.

“That wasn’t on purpose!” Wayne said, before Kate gave him the side eye “Okay, most times it wasn’t purpose, also it was for a moment or two.” Wayne paused for a second “Am I really the only one worried here?” He turned towards the other three.

Kate shrugged “If he says he can do it, then he can do it.”

Kole joined her “I wanna see what happens!”

“Then it’s settled. You two go out.” Ed instructed and Wayne groaned behind him.

The Argentinian heard him mumble something along the lines of “I can’t believe I’m the one being responsible here…”

Ed turned towards Dr. Wilcox “Hey, doc, can you not tell my dad about what we’re about to do?”

The other man just sighed deeply.

Kate and Kole gave them thumbs ups from the other side of the glass.

The black haired teen turned towards Ed “Let’s get this show on the road.”

The peer counselor nodded. Wayne looked at him, suddenly a red ring appeared around his blue eyes and Ed felt lightheaded. He tried to step forward, but it was more of a weird wobble, his whole world felt like it had turned upside down. The feeling was similar to being hammered. His vision was getting slightly hazy, he tried to teleport on is left, but instead ended up slightly a step away from where he was originally standing. The longer this went on, the more nauseous and disoriented he felt. He wasn’t fighting it, it was an experiment after all. Ed decided enough was enough and made a timeout signal with his shaking hands. Suddenly all of the nausea was gone and Ed immediately sat on the ground.

He took a deep breath and looked at Wayne whose eyes were once again just blue “Well, that sucked.”

Wayne actually snorted “So what was it like it?”

“Like being really drunk.”

The other teen chuckled.

Then the voice of dr. Wilcox came through the speakers “I believe I can explain what happened a bit better, Wayne can create invisible waves that directly affect the primary motor cortex of the brain, that leads to motor skills like walking, understanding direction, keeping balance and so on being compromised.” He had shown a diagram of the human brain on one of the monitors.

Ed nodded “Makes sense, when I tried to teleport to the left, it didn’t work out.”

Suddenly Kate’s voice was heard from the speakers “Just call yourself Whisky man, Wayne!” She was leaning next to the doctor, who just looked done with their shenanigans.

Ed chuckled, but that only made his slight headache worse. Wayne rolled his eyes at her. He went over to Ed and held his hand out to him, Ed took it and got back on his feet.

Both Kate and Kole came back to the room actually looking pretty excited to continue learning about their powers and how to control them. Ed felt it was going to be a long and exhausting day.

Hollywood

November 24, 20:31 PDT

“What are you smiling for, ese?” Jaime suddenly appeared and leaned against Bart casually trying to look at his phone.

Bart put his phone in a pocket of his Kid Flash suit, made especially for the device and looked at his best friend “Just texting. Anyways, so Nightwing will be joining you?” He quickly changed the topic, he loved Jaime but lately he’s been a bit too invested in his “love life.”

Blue Beetle nodded “Though I am more surprised that Green Arrow will be with Alpha in Star City. I wasn’t expecting the League to be allowed to join in.”

Bart shrugged “Well we are trying to take down an intergalactic human trafficking ring. Also the laws regarding the League have been a bit more flexible after the Granny Goodness incident.” Bart looked over at their green skinned leader “Good call that he’s going to Star City, especially since the cops and media will be involved over there.” Bart struck a charming pose at the end as if wooing a reporter “He is a natural in front of the camera after all.”

Blue Beetle chuckled “Hope the cops don’t do anything stupid.”

“They will act only as back up.”

“That’s what they say, it’ll be fun explaining to the public afterwards that there were two more spots that we hit, without telling the forces over there.” Jaime mused already feeling a headache forming in the back of his head.

“Technically the League isn’t involved over there.” Bart winked, while fingerguning.

Jaime rolled his eyes good-naturally “Well, we all get a babysitter, Miss Martian is with you guys right?”

“Yup.”

Blue leaned against Bart “Okay, I’m tired of all of this official business talk. Any news with Edu?”

Bart shrugged, but a small smile found it’s way on his face “Honestly, no… but I think everything is going well, like it feels good, you know?”

Jaime smiled “But nothing official yet?”

Kid Flash scowled “Well… not yet. We talked about going on when we were free!” His demeanour was hopeful, but definitely unsure.

Jaime wiggled his eyebrows “So a date?”

“Not officially!” Bart had to clarify. ‘Sadly’ he added in his own thoughts.

Blue Beetle put his hand on Bart’s shoulder and smiled “Look whatever happens, I’ll be here, Cassie as well.” He pointed at the blonde who was currently holding with one arm a table with Garfield transformed into an elephant on top of it. She was smiling brightly while the others were cheering her on. Gregor looked especially impressed and flabbergasted.

Bart chuckled at the former prince’s expression “Tim’s one lucky guy, eh?”

Jaime grinned “For sure, hermano.”

Garfield transformed into a toucan and flew to the part of the room with the huge screens and the couch. He became human once again and called everybody over.

Their leader looked over at everybody “Okay, team you all know what to do right?”

Bart put his hand on his hip “Go there, kick some ass, save the day.” He was grinning.

“And look great while doing so.” Jaime was helpful enough to add. He high-fived Bart.

Beast Boy smiled “Yeah, something like that. Just don’t get cocky.” He knew that they were just messing around, but he still wanted to warn them, there was real danger to an overconfident superhero… maybe he was spending too much time with the Leaguers.

He believed in his team.

Taos

November 24, 9:45 MST

Ed was exhausted and that’s putting it lightly. Kole, Kate and Wayne had quickly gotten over their initial nervousness and had trained on controlling their powers a lot. Their newfound confidence also brought a lot of problems with it, such as recklessly using their powers without much thought, but he supposed that was better than being afraid of them.

They made a lot of progress, Ed was currently looking over the observations from today’s testing. Everybody had long since left, but he always liked analyzing the research and making his own conclusions, he supposed he did resemble his dad in that regard, maybe not all scientist genes had missed him. It also helped when somebody didn’t understand some of the overly fancy words scientist and doctors used to describe their powers, Ed could always explain. He had the recording from today open on his laptop’s screen and was making a few notes on how to further help the others with their powers. He paused the video when a fully crystallized Kole send a laser beam flying backwards. He wanted to focus, he really did, but just like they often did recently, his thoughts once again drifted away to the brunette speedster.

‘I wonder if everything’s going well on that mission.’ Ed had his eyes closed and his head perched on his hands. He couldn’t help but worry, finally he decided that since he wasn’t getting any work done he might as well head home, his dad had already called him not too long ago to do so as well. Apparently being a workaholic was another thing him and his dad had in common. Ed packed up his things and disappeared in a flash of golden light.

Detroit

November 25, 1:30 EDT

Kid Flash, Suberboy, Cyborg and Miss Martian had just dropped off near Inergang’s base of operation in Detroit. This time, thanks to the before mentioned white alien they had psychic communication, so the risk of being found out dropped, but it also meant Bart’s thoughts couldn’t always wander off to Ed… unless he wanted everybody else to hear them. Kid Flash was in his “dark mode”, so the costume was black and green, adding to their camouflage.

He along with everybody else received a text from the other teams, both had arrived on their sites without a hitch.

‘I’ll go have a quick look around.’ Miss Martian informed her team.

They all nodded. Bart took a better look at this facility, it was almost exactly like the other one, except larger, it didn’t seem abounded, there were delivery trucks and thugs moving around.

Miss Martian quickly informed as to what she was seeing and hearing inside ‘I see four metas. From what I heard the client is supposed to arrive soon. After that they are planning on shutting this place down.’

Just as she said that news came back from the other teams, their places were completely abandoned and all traces of something ever happening there were wiped. Cyborg was quick to respond that their place was still in use, though only for tonight.

‘Then we have to be fast.’ Superboy send through the mental connection.

‘Good thing that’s my specialty.’ Replied Bart and winked.

‘I see a computer, it appears that everything is being deleted.’ M’gan informed them. ‘We will wait for the buyer to appear, so that we can take them down as well, but we will start off by slowly decreasing the number of Intergang’s lackeys. I will go to the back and stop the power, that ought to buy us more time.’

‘Then I will quickly take out the guys outside.’ Bart continued.

The plan was affirmed by the team and was set into place a moment later. Kid Flash quickly beat up the gang members and hid their unconscious bodies.

Apparently inside the thugs were running around, pissed off and annoyed. One of them decided to go check the power out back and was quickly met with Miss Martian’s fist. The group had slowly moved around inside the building, everybody hiding in the darkness, good thing for night vision goggles. One of the gang’s members had turned on the emergency lights, but they produced little to no light.

Suddenly a portal either from a mother or a fatherbox appeared and a pink skinned alien in blue clothes came out of it. The portal closed. He was smiling like every bad guy ever. He looked around, looking unimpressed with the state of the facility, then he laid eyes on the teens bound in front of him. There were two boys with bright ginger hair that appeared no older than ten, a girl with a short bob, that looked to have blades coming out of her shoulders and a girl with curly black hair and eyes.

The alien spoke “Good, this time the goods are actually here, not like last time.”

The thugs only grunted. One of them spoke up “First the money, then you get them.”

The alien sighed and took out a small piece of plastic out of it’s pocket, it looked like a flash drive. He moved his arm to hand it over to the other man.

‘Now!’ M’gan’s voice rang through the mental connection.

Taking them down wasn’t hard, considering they were being shot at with alien guns. The salmon coloured alien had tried to open up another portal, but was quickly stopped by Cyborg and Superboy. When they were done all the bad guys were unconscious and bound. The actual power was turned on and the team connected Oracle to the computer so she could download everything that was left on it.

When they were done all the proper authorities were connected, apparently the alien was named Kanjar Ro and was the one who was supposed to buy Kate, Kole and Wayne. He was to be taken care of by Green lantern, he was the one who dealt with aliens. Soon after the police had also swarmed the place. After consulting, it was decided that the meta-teens were to be sent to the Meta-Human Youth Center for the time being, there were people there who had a so called nigh-shift, but Ed and his father were still called regardless of that.

Team Beta was more than happy to be heading back to Hollywood and the Watchtower, after Cyborg had opened up a portal for the four metas to go to the Center.

Hollywood

November 25, 3:44 PDT

When Beta arrived everybody else had already been there for a while now, Ed was also there Bart went over to him.

“Hey, amigo!” Bart leaned against Ed.

Ed yawned, but quickly smiled “Good on not getting hurt.”

“I’m just too damn fast.”

Ed snorted in retaliation.

Garfield quickly called everybody for a meeting, Alpha and Omega once again said they they found nothing, while Beta quickly summarised everything that had happened.

Barbara smiled from her screen “Good job on getting all the info, I’ll analyse it as soon as possible and get you all up to speed.”

Barbara was definitely looking worse for wear, with deep purple circles around her eyes and unkept hair that stuck out in every direction, then again who were they to judge, they were all peas in a pod in that regard.

Finally the briefing ended and everybody was glad to be able to finally get some sleep.

Bart turned towards Ed “Back to the center?”

Ed nodded “Yeah, have to make sure everything is fine with our four new residents.” He smiled.

“Want some help with that, amigo?” Bart was quick to offer.

Ed shook his head “No offence, man, but you look like death, go get some sleep…” Then he thought for a second “Want me to teleport you home?”

“Huh?”

Ed blushed “Well, you know, it’ll be faster than the zeta tube, considering the one closest to you is in STAR labs and I don’t want you to fall asleep while running and end up lost somewhere in Oklahoma.”

“Okay, that only happened like once!”

“More than enough.”

Virgil’s annoyed voice was heard shouting from the other side of the room “No fair! You never offer to teleport me anywhere!”

“You basically live next to a zeta tube!” Ed exclaimed and Virgil’s stuck his tongue out at him.

Bart laughed accepted Ed’s offer. He decided to change into civilian clothes in case somebody was lurking around Jay’s house. After he was done he went back to Ed, the Argentinian smiled and shyly offered his hand for Bart to hold, Bart took it enthusiastically and waved Virgil goodbye while they disappeared.

For what felt like a second later they were in front of Jay’s house.

Central City

November 25, 5:12 PST

“So crash.” Said Bart.

“Make sure to crash right on top of your bed and get some sleep.” Ed’s lame joke didn’t go unnoticed by Bart.

“That was a really bad one.” He commented.

Ed grinned “I’m only running on a few hours of sleep and a coffee, so don’t except a lot.”

“You always exceed my exceptions anyways.” Said Bart and as soon as the words registered in Ed’s sleep deprived brain he blushed.

Ed tried to cover it up “Stop it, it sounds like something my dad would say.”

“But it’s true!”

“Yeah, yeah…” Ed was rubbing the back of his neck, but then he perked up “Let’s hope this whole thing ends soon… so we can hang out, while not being completely drained.”

“True.”

Ed took his phone out and checked the time, he sighed “I have to get going.”

“Thought so.”

Ed put his hand on Bart’s shoulder “Bye.” He simply said.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

“Make sure you get enough sleep!” Ed said while disappearing.

Bart chuckled “Okay, mom, I got it.”

He headed towards his home, his mood massively improved, Ed just had that effect on him, he filled him with energy yet calmed him down. Just as he walked in he noticed Jay was awake and nursing a cup of tea.

“Good morning.” The older speedster offered, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Bart’s smile widened “Yeah, good indeed.”

#bartuardo #zetaflash #eduardo dorado jr #bart allen #el dorado young justice

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