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berenwrites · 1 year

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In His Kiss (Steddie, Stranger Things)

In His Kiss: The Trouble With Vampire Tendencies

A/N – thought I would have a go at @steddie-week. Not beta’d so please forgive my mistakes. Now beta'd, thanks Soph.

Prompt: Day 1 - Hunger / Pining / Somebody to Love by Queen

Summary: Steve notices Eddie watching him, and it brings things he has been thinking about to a head. The only remaining question is, is he brave enough to take a chance?

Vampire!Eddie

Also on AO3

Steve could feel Eddie’s eyes on him. It was like he could tell, even without looking that Eddie was staring at him. Every time he glanced over, Eddie looked away, but half a second too late. It was beginning to drive Steve crazy.

It had been months since Vecna. Henry Creel was very, very dead, thanks in part to all of them, but primarily due to El. They’d gone back into the Upside Down as a group, determined to end it before Henry could regather his strength. El had finished him off for good as the rest of them protected her from Vecna’s monsters.

One of the shocks of the aftermath had been finding a very confused, but alive Eddie Munson among Vecna’s dying army. He wasn’t quite the same as he had been, but Doctor Owens had been surprisingly helpful with that. Steve didn’t really understand the politics, but something to do with the final battle had put Owens back in charge.

Eddie was currently sitting under a large sunshade while the kids splashed around in the pool, the older adults took up the sun loungers, and those in the middle sat around the edge of the water with their feet in it. One of the things Eddie had picked up from the Upside Down was a dislike of too much heat. It wasn’t as bad as it had been for the Upside Down natives, but it was still noticeable.

Steve was glad Eddie had agreed to come to the party, but he was keeping an eye on him. Eddie did disappear into the airconditioned house every now and then, and always had an iced drink in his hand. The Indiana summer had to be something of a nightmare for someone with Eddie’s condition. That Eddie and Wayne now had a house with air conditioning themselves, thanks to the US government, was at least one plus in the situation.

When Eddie got up yet again and headed through the back door, Steve left Robin chatting to Jonathan and followed.

“You doing okay?” he asked when he walked into the kitchen to find Eddie with his head in the refrigerator.

“Oh hey, Stevie,” Eddie said, turning and giving him a grin, “yeah, just needed to cool off for a bit. I always hated the heat, now I really hate it.”

The nickname made something in Steve’s chest flutter. Apart from Robin occasionally using ‘Stevie’ it had mostly been thrown at him as an insult, a babying of his name to make him lesser, yet Eddie somehow managed to make it not like that at all. It made Steve wonder what it would be like to cross the distance between them and taste Eddie’s lips.

He’d found himself thinking a lot of things like that over the past couple of months. Several long talks with Robin had helped him come to terms with the fact he was not completely straight, but he still wasn’t sure how to label himself. He hadn’t been able to shake the fear his attachment to Eddie was trauma based. However, the way it wasn’t going away and seemed more to be deepening, was pointing him in the direction of thinking he was bisexual.

“Have Owens’ people come up with anything to help counter that yet?” he asked, wandering across the kitchen to lean against the counter.

“It’s better when I’ve just chowed down on one of the blood bags the government is so helpfully providing,” Eddie said with a shrug, “but I’m beginning to think there is nothing else they can do.”

Steve couldn’t help noticing the way Eddie’s eyes flicked to his neck and away again as they were talking.

That was the other hangup from the Upside Down. Eddie needed to regularly ingest blood. The scientists had tried transfusions for a while before Eddie had gone a little feral and simply ripped the bag off the hook and bitten into it. Dustin had been visiting at the time and had been very happy to tell everyone about Eddie’s awesome vampiric tendencies.

“Are you thirsty now?” Steve asked.

“Getting there,” Eddie admitted, staring at the floor. “I should go, the sun’s getting to me.”

“Is that why you keep staring at my neck?” Steve asked before Eddie could move.

The way Eddie went very still had Steve holding his breath.

“Sorry for creeping you out,” Eddie said without looking up.

“You didn’t,” he replied. “But I noticed, and you weren’t doing it to anyone else.”

Eddie laughed and it was not a happy sound.

“Fuck,” Steve heard him whisper under his breath.

“Guess I don’t do subtle,” Eddie said louder this time, finally lifting his gaze to look at Steve.

“Not one of your strong points,” Steve agreed.

Eddie sighed, looking away again, but clearly thinking hard about something.

“Do you know what bisexual means?” Eddie finally asked and Steve’s heart skipped a beat.

He nodded.

“Colour me surprised,” was Eddie’s response to that. “Well that’s me,” Eddie went on, “and, oh boy, do I have a type, and because the universe thinks it’s funny, that happens to be preppy cheerleaders or jocks.”

“So you …” Steve started to ask.

“Have had a crush on you since way before was good for me,” Eddie confessed, “and then you had to turn out to be a really nice guy which made it a thousand times worse. It was so bad I had to use Nancy like a shield, but then I come back from the dead and you and Nancy are definitely off the table, and not only that but I suddenly have this really insistent urge to bite you. I’ve been trying to deal with it, but clearly I’m not doing so well, and it just keeps getting worse.”

“Maybe that’s my fault,” Steve said.

“I know you’re sometimes a self-sacrificial hazard,” Eddie replied, “but how, exactly could that be your fault?”

“Because me too,” he replied.

Eddie frowned.

“You too, what?”

“Me too, bisexual,” Steve said plainly, “and me too, crushing on you. Took me a while to figure it out, but then everyone knows I’m slow. Hence, maybe your urge is getting worse because you’re sensitive to that now.”

Eddie blinked, but otherwise did not move or speak for some time.

“You’re not slow,” wasn’t really what Steve expected Eddie to say next, “you just process things differently from the prodigies splashing around in your pool.”

“My old teachers would beg to differ,” he pointed out, even though the conversation was diverting weirdly.

“Yeah, because Hawkins high is known for understanding anyone outside the most normie of the norm,” Eddie said.

Even as Eddie was speaking, Steve saw his hands twitch.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Adjusting,” Eddie replied, in something of a strained tone. “Kind of blowing my mind here, Stevie, and maybe my control too.”

That was all he needed to make his decision, and Steve walked across the room and took Eddie’s hand.

“Come on,” he said, “anyone could walk in here.”

Eddie made a pathetic whimper of a sound but did not resist as Steve led him out of the kitchen and into the downstairs bathroom.

“What … what ...?” Eddie tried to ask, but he seemed to be struggling with words.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve asked, looking directly into Eddie’s deep brown eyes.

Eddie nodded, slowly but deliberately. Steve didn’t hesitate. Before he could second guess himself he crowded into Eddie’s personal space, leaning in and tilting his head until his lips met Eddie’s. For a second Eddie did not respond. Steve could feel the other man tensing like a taught bow string.

“Holy shit this is really happening,” Eddie muttered against his mouth and then his back hit the door as Eddie literally leapt at him, winding strong legs around his waist and arms around his neck.

He wound his arms around Eddie, adjusting his stance for the extra weight and sank into the kiss as Eddie joined in whole heartedly. If Steve had had any doubts left, they fled as he lost himself in the taste and feel of lips and tongue and fingers in his hair. When Eddie finally broke away, kissing down his jaw and onto his neck, he put his head back and enjoyed it.

As Eddie buried his face in Steve’s neck and moaned, trembling in his arms, he knew exactly what Eddie needed.

“Do it,” he said.

“I could hurt you,” Eddie whined into his shoulder.

“You couldn’t,” he replied. “We’ve both been there when Dustin goes on about your vampire tendencies, everything Owens’ people have helped you figure out. Your teeth are razor sharp when extended and your saliva heals. We both know Dustin’s gonna end up with a Nobel Prize some day for figuring out how that works.”

Eddie laughed into his shoulder, finally pulling back and looking him in the face.

“You really want me to..?” Eddie asked.

“Hell yes,” he replied.

He wasn’t sure where his own need came from, but he felt desperate. Now that he had been permitted something, he wanted everything he was allowed.

“Please,” he added.

Eddie opened his mouth, letting Steve see the deadly, extended fangs. One last test. Steve stared for a few seconds, unable to tear his eyes away until he put his head back against the door, exposing the long line of his throat and closing his eyes.

“You should be illegal,” Eddie whispered, before lips touched his skin.

Eddie’s fangs going in did hurt, like lightning down his nerves. He stiffened, clinging on to Eddie until he heard Eddie’s moan of pleasure and it felt like a switch flipping. The pain was still there, but he didn’t care as a rush ran through him like nothing he had ever felt before. It wasn’t like sex, but it was on the same level. He couldn’t think, at all.

How long it lasted he had no idea. It was as if his brain mostly switched off leaving only the pleasure centres firing until Eddie finally pulled away. He only barely noticed Eddie climbing down, just enough to let go and allow Eddie to settle on the floor.

“Steve, Stevie can you hear me?” Eddie asked.

He mumbled a reply and did his best to open his eyes.

“Hey,” Eddie said as he blinked blearily at him, “back with me?”

“Yes,” he said, although, as he said it, he realised his legs felt like wet pasta.

He couldn’t stop it as he slowly slid down the door.

“Woah there, Big Boy,” Eddie said, helping him to sit down. “You sure you’re okay?”

He nodded.

“Was a rush,” he said, glad his voice seemed to be working properly again, “just need to sit for a minute. Like after a long run.”

“Well you would know more about that than me,” Eddie said with a smile, “I’ve never done a long run in my life.”

“Liar,” he said, “saw you run in the Upside Down.”

“That doesn’t count,” was the amused reply. “How are you feeling now?”

“Kind of amazing,” he admitted and laughed.

He finally managed to focus properly on Eddie face.

“Um, you’ve got …” he said, pointing to the side of his own mouth.

The way Eddie’s tongue darted out made him want to surge forward for another round of kissing, but luckily for his dignity he wasn’t sure he had the coordination quite yet.

“How about you?” he asked. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just ate the best chocolate in the world and won the lottery at the same time,” Eddie told him, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. “I think you might have ruined me for anyone else, Stevie.”

“Good,” he replied and tried to turn his head. “Ow.”

His neck twinged. He brought his hand up to touch it gingerly.

“How does it look?” he asked.

“It’s already scabbed,” Eddie told him, touching gently next to his own fingers, “but if we go out there everyone is going to know what we’ve been doing.”

“Part of me kind of wants to show them off,” Steve admitted. “And part of me is scared shitless.”

“You and me both, Sweetheart,” Eddie said. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Steve let Eddie help him to his feet and they used the sink to wash off his neck. The two red marks made him stop and stare in the mirror for a while. He’d never let a girl mark him up, it wasn’t usually his thing, but he liked seeing Eddie’s bite on his skin.

“Band-Aid?” Eddie asked, having found the first aid box under the sink.

He didn’t really want to, but Steve nodded. It was the only sensible thing, given that he had no idea how long the wounds would take to fully heal, and they needed protecting. He let Eddie put a large Band-Aid over both of the small holes.

“Want to stay when everyone else goes home?” he asked as Eddie fastened his bandana over the Band-Aid.

“If you can think of a really good excuse that won’t have Buckley trying to stake me through the heart, I’d love to,” Eddie replied.

“She’s going to kill both of us,” Steve realised as he finally thought things through. “After she’s congratulated me for getting my head out of my ass, but she’s still going to kill us.”

“Before or after she starts talking about rabies?” Eddie asked.

“Let’s hope before,” he replied, wincing.

Once Robin got onto the rabies track it took some serious shit to get her off it.

“How do you feel about coming out to the whole party?” he asked as he took the time to think things through.

“Will Hop shoot me?” Eddie asked with perfect seriousness.

“No,” Steve replied. “Joyce wouldn’t let him,” he added with a grin, because otherwise he was going to worry himself through the floor.

“You have a plan, I take it,” Eddie said.

He nodded.

“I think so,” he revealed. “What if we go out there pretending nothing happened, then let our paranoid friends figure out something did. When the shouting starts we can confess we were making out and you got a little over enthusiastic on a hickey because a fang accidentally extended, so we cleaned it up and tried to hide it.”

“Ah, a fake out hiding another fake out,” Eddie said with a nod. “You should play DnD, you’d be pretty good at it.”

“Numbers are not my thing,” he replied.

“Just bribe the good Lady Applejack to do that part for you,” Eddie told him.

“What with?” he asked. “I’m pretty sure she already owns my soul.”

“Did you sign in blood?” Eddie asked. “If you didn’t sign in blood, it’s not binding.”

“You tell Erica that,” Steve responded.

There was a banging on the bathroom door.

“Steve are you in there?”

It was Robin’s voice, of course it was.

“Guess we’re doing part of our confessing now then,” Eddie said quietly. “Just so I’m clear, are we boyfriends now?”

“I’d like that,” Steve replied, his heartbeat going way up.

“Good,” Eddie said and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Time to let your platonic soul mate in then because as soon as she gets the braincell she’s going to know anyway.”

Steve tried to be offended, he really did, but he just couldn’t manage it. There were too many other things to think about. With a deep breath he turned to the door. It was time to face the music.

The End

Find my other steddie fanfic listed here in my pinned post.

#stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie lives #stranger things #fanfic #post season 4 #vampires #vampire eddie munson #steddieweek2023

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mystical-flute · 11 months

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I Am The Ghost That Hide in the Night Chapter 2: It's a Cold, Cruel, Harsh Reality

Also on AO3 || Ko-Fi

This couldn’t be happening.

What the hell was Yor, of all people doing here? Why was she holding a bloody weapon?

He had been compromised, and worse, it had been by his wife. The woman he had been lying to for over a year now in an attempt to seem like a completely normal Ostanian man, and not Westalis’ greatest weapon.

Fuck. Calm down Twilight. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this, right? Then again, Yor had said there was stuff she needed to finish at work. And Twilight could not figure out what that was supposed to be if she was here covered in blood and holding some very sharp looking weapons.

Still, he needed to figure out what was going on, so he took a slow, deep breath. “Yor… I thought you said you were behind on your work at city hall.” His voice was colder than he normally used with anyone outside of missions. He couldn’t muster up the airy, laid-back voice of Loid Forger. Not now.

“And I thought you were supposed to be helping some patients. I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure murder goes against your code, even if concussive therapy for some reason doesn’t!”

If he’d been anyone else, he might have missed the shudder that went down her spine before she spoke. But he saw the slight quiver of her arms, and while he normally felt good about making people fear him, the sour feeling that had vanished with each death blow of these awful scientists, was beginning to return.

“Clearly… we both have skeletons in our closet. Why don’t we talk about this calmly? Let’s… put our weapons away.”

Yor made no movement to do so. “DId you kill all those people?”

Or… they could just start asking questions with little to no fanfare. “I did.”

“Why?”

“Human experimentation is barbaric. I wanted to stop these people from starting it back up.”

Yor’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know about that?”

“How did you?”

Yor’s weapons quivered, and the gun suddenly felt so heavy in Twilight’s hand. A stalemate. How long had it been since he’d been in a stalemate with someone?

“Let’s put our weapons down and talk about this calmly,” Twilight said. “But I have to know I can trust you.”

“Well so do I!”

She was scared, he realized. Scared and flustered over seeing him here. He couldn’t blame her - he felt the same way, even if he was doing his best not to show it. How much had they gone through together while trying to act like a totally normal family? And yet it seemed all three of them had secrets they’d been keeping.

“I’m here because of Anya,” he settled on. She deserved to know.

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Anya is not my biological daughter, Yor. I adopted her. And recently I came across some information that told me she was one of the children experimented on here.”

Yor grew paler, which Twilight would admit was rather impressive given how fair her skin usually was. “She… these people hurt her? They hurt our daughter?! And you didn’t leave any of them alive for me to take care of except one?!”

Okay, good. She still trusted him, and was just as angry as he was over what happened with Anya.

“I didn’t know you would be coming tonight, Yor. How could I have left some alive for you?” he asked with a frown.

“I guess so…” she agreed. “But what I don’t understand is how you know how to kill people with such precision.”

“I would like to know the same thing about you. How do I know you aren’t a member of the Secret Police come to take Anya away?”

“I’m hurt you’d think that after everything we’ve been through! Besides, I’m not with the secret police! Besides - ” she lowered her voice, like she was hoping he wouldn’t hear her, but he distinctly heard the words “Shopkeeper hates them.”

He believed her, of course, because he knew it was Yuri who was on that path, but still, it was good to hear her say it. “I believe you. And I want you to know I’m no fan of them either.”

Yor sighed, her shoulders relaxing. “Good…. Then who are you?”

Twilight glanced around, then shook his head as he approached her, dropping his voice low. “I shouldn’t tell you here. We trust each other, and our house is secure from any traps or listening devices. We can talk more there.”

“Okay,” Yor agreed. “I’ll meet you there.”

He nodded once and turned back to the files he’d been collecting before Yor came into the room. “RIght, I’ll be off with these.”

“But won’t the government realize some documents are missing?” Yor questioned.

“It’s hard to tell if something is missing or if it got burned away in an explosion, isn’t it?” he asked, sliding his hat back onto his head and putting his gun back in his inside jacket. “You have five minutes to get away from here as quickly as possible.”

Not that he doubted she would, now that he knew she was apparently harboring a secret the same as he was. All of her random acts of strength were suddenly becoming clearer - he just didn’t know who she worked for, which was an issue Twilight intended to solve tonight.

Yor nodded and bolted from the room. Twilight followed, but by the time he’d gone outside, he couldn’t see her anymore. Oh well.

It was done. Those people would never be able to harm Anya ever again.

Twilight turned the key to his van just as the warehouse exploded in a brilliant flash of light.

“Excellent work, Agent Twilight. It seems Mr. Franklin’s handiwork once again paid off,” Handler said with a smirk when he returned to headquarters and dropped records on her desk. “Though I will admit, I was expecting you back sooner.”

“It appears we were not the only ones aware of that organization and aiming to stop them,” he began carefully. If he could avoid telling them about Yor, he would be satisfied with lying to his superiors.

Handler, though, sat straight up, alarmed. “What? Who else was there?”

“Someone who planned to do the same thing I was.”

“Twilight.”

He wouldn’t be able to get out of telling them the truth. He expected it, but he was hoping to not put a target on Yor’s back.

“Before I say it, I need your assurance that WISE will not go after them.”

“I can’t promise that, Twilight. If you were compromised - ”

“Operation Strix will be compromised if any harm comes to the one I ran into in that building,” Twilight said simply. “I am not asking for assurance, Handler. I am expecting it.”

Those words seemed to get her attention, and she leaned over in her chair to make sure the door to her office was locked. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Because I ran into my wife there. She had also been sent by someone to eradicate the scientists.”

“Your wife? You ran into Yor Briar at that warehouse?”

“I did.”

“And she was tasked with killing the scientists?”

“Correct.”

“Who tasked her with it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Twilight!”

“We didn’t have much time to talk. You are the one who told me to blow up the warehouse after I grabbed the information you requested,” he pointed out. “The only thing I heard her say was ‘Shopkeeper hates the SSS.’”

Handler frowned. “I’ll look into it. For now, this stays between us. We cannot jeopardize Operation Strix. How did she seem to react to your presence?”

“Shocked but she didn’t seem interested in harming me. She was, however, enraged when I told her Anya had been one of the children there.”

“The fact that she still cares for the girl is a small comfort,” Handler said. “Fine, I won’t report it to the superiors, but I trust you understand why we are going to have to keep a close eye on her from now on.”

That was the best he knew he was going to get, so he nodded in agreement. “Very well, Handler. I understand.”

“Good. Now get home, it’s late.”

Right. The neighbors had already suspected Loid Forger of cheating several times by now. It was best to not let them think it was happening yet again.

“Thank you for your understanding, Handler,” he said.

“You better hope this doesn’t end poorly for you, Twilight, because if it does… Operation Strix is finished and you will be assigned another mission somewhere outside Ostania.”

It wasn’t the first time she used that threat, but it was the first time Twilight actually felt worried and angry at the thought of it coming to pass. He couldn’t let Anya go back to the orphanage, not now. Not after knowing she’d been experimented on.

“Hey Loid,” he heard Yor’s soft voice call as he approached a corner. “Shall we walk home together?”

The City Hall uniform, once so innocent and unassuming, looked wrong on her now.

“Of course, Yor,” he said with a gentle smile. “How was work?”

It was odd to Twilight that moving into step with Yor as they walked the familiar Berlint felt totally normal, despite what they’d found out about each other.

“So… how are things with work? Did you manage to smooth things over with your patient?” she asked quietly.

Interesting. She knew to keep things normal and unassuming while they were walking home surrounded by other citizens of Berlint, even if many of them weren’t paying attention and were instead glued to the shops that sold TVs, news about the explosion having broken while he’d been at WISE headquarters.

“Things are stable for now,” he said. “And what about you? Is everything okay at City Hall?”

“For now.”

They were in another stalemate then, it seemed.

When they entered their building, they greeted the neighbor ladies with a smile before entering their apartment. He distinctly heard one of them comment how nice it was to see the two of them obviously coming home from a date night, and while he was glad they appeared to be giving off the appearance of a normal couple, he wondered how much longer it was going to last.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting you two to get done at the same time,” Franky greeted, looking up from the magazine he was reading. The TV was playing the news report about the explosion, and if Twilight had been a lesser man, he wouldn’t have caught the giddiness in Franky’s gaze. He supposed everyone got pride out of something, even if it was creating an explosive. “Pretty crazy about that warehouse, huh? Good thing you two were nowhere near!”

Yor managed a nervous cough. “Nope! I was all the way at City Hall and Loid was at the General Hospital!”

Franky gave her a confused look as he shoved the magazine into a bag, leaving an inconspicuous Berlint General Hospital folder on the coffee table where he’d been. “Right, yeah, obviously you two were. Anyway, Anya finished her homework, ate, watched Spy Wars, and passed out after trying to re-enact the episode with Bond. He’s also in her room. I’ll get out of your hair now. See you tomorrow, Loidy-boy, Yor.”

When the door clicked closed behind Franky, he heard Yor’s soft giggles from behind her hand. “I’m glad you have a friend like Franky, Loid,” she said. “Now… I don’t want to make this difficult, so you’d better spill who you are.”

Loid turned in surprise to find his wife standing behind him with her weapons limply at her side. Clearly, she hadn’t deemed him a threat… yet.

He kept himself calm as he considered the best way to get out of this situation. “Let’s make this easy on each other. On the count of three, we say what our professions really are, okay?”

She nodded slowly. “Okay. One - ”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Spy.”

“Assassin.”

They each stared at each other in shock. An assassin? That made sense, given there had been a rash of killings linked to assassinations lately but who in politics would want to assassinate those scientists? Perhaps the current political leaders? If Desmond was linked to the scientists in the warehouse, that was the only group he could think of.

“You’re a - you’re a spy?” Yor asked, her voice quiet. “What are you doing in Ostania? What do you want?”

“I want to stop Donovan Desmond.”

Yor’s shoulders dropped in relief. “You want to stop him? You don’t support him?”

“Of course not. We’re concerned he’s planning to reignite the war with Westalis. We want to intercept him before he can.”

“That’s why you were so interested in me becoming friends with Melinda… because it would get you closer to Desmond.”

“Exactly.”

Yor sighed and ran a hand down her face. “I can’t compromise myself by killing you or divorcing you. Yuri would be too worried.”

“And I can’t compromise myself by killing you either. Eden already looks down on me for having a second wife.”

“Am I really your second wife?”

Ah, right, they were supposed to be telling the truth now, so Twilight cleared his throat awkwardly. “In the eyes of the Ostanian government, yes, you are.”

“And in the eyes of Westalis’ government?”

“To them I’m just a weapon. I gave up any chance of a normal civilian life long ago.”

Yor frowned. “Then what about Anya? Is she just a tool for you to use while you try to get closer to Desmond? What about me?”

Twilight sagged onto the couch, his head in his hands. “At first, yes, that’s all either of you were. But as this mission has gone on, the more I feel like I genuinely care about you both, and your safety. That’s why I have vowed not to turn you in. And when I first started storming the warehouse, I had every intention of taking some of the scientists back to headquarters so our people could interrogate them, but when I got there and realized I was at the heart of an operation that allowed Anya to be hurt, that could try to find her again and take her away from me - us, I knew there was no sense in leaving any of them alive.”

He heard the zip of Yor’s bag open and glanced over at her. She put her weapons in her bag and set it down next to the chair, then took a seat in it, her hands clasped in front of her as was typical.

“I - I see,” she said with a frown. “I’ve grown to care about you too, Loid, and Anya. In fact… since we’re being truthful, I may have lost Anya the day we adopted Bond… and when I found her, I ran into a couple of those student terrorists. They were threatening to kill her. I don’t know why.”

Twilight frowned and looked down at the folder, thinking back to what Handler had shown him back at headquarters before he spoke to Yor. “It’s possible she overheard something she shouldn’t have after she got separated from you. What happened to the terrorists?”

“I managed to knock one of them out cold, but the other one escaped. I think he must have been the leader since he had another dog with him besides Bond. Anyway, I ran into him again while I was looking for Anya. I called the police, but I don’t know what happened after that because I was too busy trying to find her other than he was taken into custody.” She frowned and sighed. “Do you know if those students had anything to do with the people who hurt Anya at the lab?”

“No. My intelligence agency confirmed they got the dogs from the black market.”

Yor sighed in relief. “Good. Then at least we know the people who hurt Anya are dead.”

Anya Willians, Anya Levski, Anya Roche… Surely Anya had been hurt by those people too. Maybe not physically, but it couldn’t have been easy to be returned to an orphanage four times. No wonder she never said anything to them.

“Loid?”

He glanced up, shaking himself free from his thoughts. “Yes, Yor?”

Her hands, while still clasped, had tightened around themselves in the way they did when she was uneasy about asking him something. “Do you know why those people hurt Anya? Or… what they did to her?”

“I can’t answer either of those for sure, but… Anya is a telepath, Yor. They were going to use her for their own gain.”

Yor’s head bowed, but he saw a glimpse of anguish on her face before it was hidden by her hair. “Our poor daughter… I just want to go into her room right now and give her all the hugs I can.”

“Anya doesn’t know that we know about her, Yor. It would be best to not even think about it until we can figure out how exactly to bring it up,” he said. While her head was down, he took a moment to peek into the folder Franky had left. More information on the scientists, it looked like. Good. He’d read that later.

“Oh… wait, does that mean Anya knows about who we really are too?” Yor questioned, running her hands down her face. “That explains a few things…”

“Yeah. I had that feeling too,” Loid said. “A spy and an assassin are raising a telepath. How in the world did we get here?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I’m glad it’s you who found out about me and not Yuri. But there’s something else that’s bothering me right now.”

“What is it?”

Yor furrowed her brow. “Why would dogs be on the black market? That’s usually reserved for drugs, or poison, or other things that are illegal in Ostania. But dogs? Are they the same dogs these people experimented on?”

“So your boss knows about the experimentation too?”

“He’s very well-connected to the black market.”

Twilight knew he should press for more information, but on the other hand, with he and Yor being having a truce, he didn’t want to ruin the fragile trust they had in each other. “I see. Yes, you’re correct. Those dogs were part of an experiment called Project Apple that the Ostanian government’s old regime started. But from what we’ve been able to find, it didn’t seem like the experiments were ever successful. The dogs disappeared after that, until they showed up with the terrorists.”

Yor nodded in understanding. “Yeah, okay. If that’s the case, then… does that mean Bond - ”

“Borf?”

#i am the ghost that hides in the night #fanfiction #spy x family #loid forger #yor forger

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walkeddeath · 10 months

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cont. from here for @walkedfire

　　there's something about the incomplete stillness of nights in the after that makes gen wish she had appreciated the quiet more. embraced it, hadn't broken it with mindless talking and too loud music as much, learned to deal with the silence on her own. they had tried, countless times, but it always felt too threatening. it's almost laughable now, to them, that silence had been their biggest fear at one point. gen would give anything to go back to that time, would trade the future for it. she's tired of thinking about what's coming, wants to live in what's passed, what can't be changed by some freak accident.

　　she remembers a conversation they had once about time travel and she wishes the scientists would hurry up and figure it out. they're too busy trying to figure out how to stop death now, in more ways than one, how to stop the future. gen's seen the theories, the charts, the formulas and none of it makes any sense. no matter how hard they try and get her to embrace the idea, she's too wrapped up in how it could have been prevented. what she'd need to change to do so, if she could go back. she wants so horribly to go back. would trade the freedom she doesn't even have to be able to.

　　it isn't that she resents buck for dying. he didn't know it would happen, or maybe he did and just hadn't cared, she remembers his panic from that split second. they remember the panic and the empty that followed, all three minutes, and they can't stop thinking about how maybe it could be different. if they could just go back, fix it, tell him what was going to be and what to do. tell him to stay in place, not move, that she'd be fine. there's no way he'd listen and she can't blame him. if the roles had been reversed, she'd have done the same for him. it's why she can't hate him for the situation they're in now.

　　out of everyone, from the doctors to the scientists to him and even the fucking kaiju, she hates herself the most. she'd been late to their meeting spot, just by four minutes, but still late. she'd forgotten a box in her locker, had almost been at the door when she'd realized, and hadn't thought about the time. just ran, trying to be quick, trying to outrun a ticking that had embedded into her head at some point. if she had been faster getting back, hadn't paused at the door, had just thrown it open and never stopped running, she's sure they'd have made it out.

　　so no, she doesn't blame him, and she knows he does blame himself, it's not something he can hide from her, even if they're not in the drift. it's evident in how he avoids her, how he looks at her, and she's tired. the nightmares have been raging, dragging her back into a void drift, keeping her stuck in a place where death screams and she can't find a light to scare it away and keep it away from him.

　　it isn't like she'll have to worry about it for much longer. they'd fucked up again, had another fight with a higher up, hadn't kept her mouth shut and silent. hadn't just accepted orders and given them what they wanted. there had been thrown punches again, she doesn't know how to handle that part, doesn't remember ever being this angry. but, not at him.

　　she's pulled out of her thoughts briefly when he touches her hair and the softness of the gesture pulls her back to the present, out of the past, and it's crushing. gen doesn't push it away, it's soothing and she's determined to commit it to memory, it won't be hard to, there's nothing about him that she thinks she'll ever forget. he's too burned into her heart for her brain to let him fade. at least, they hope.

　　their thoughts do start to wander again, but more in relation to his question. no, haven't been able to in weeks, it's fine. she doesn't say it, trying to not be mean or short, and they try to commit his face to memory, another impossible thing to forget but she's just so scared she will. they already almost lost being able to see it. they got it back, he's alive, that should be enough. knowing that they fucked up and that he got hurt and she's about to hurt him even harder makes looking at him ––– hurt.

　　gen almost looks away, but she can't, just reaches for his face and pulls him close, resting her forehead against his. she closes her eyes and shakes her head and, after letting a beat of silence rest, she speaks.

　　"i had a meeting today. i'm out. too broken, too angry, keep fighting them. i leave in three days. alone."

　　they feel like a kid again, out of control and under too much pressure. unsure of what's going on and why she just can't stop fighting. why she insists on being too much , too loud, too explosive, too many questions, not enough respect, no control. tears start falling, burning in her eyes so she keeps them closed, and she speaks quietly, half to him half to herself. "i'm scared."

#walkedfire #death tw //#⋆ no grave can hold my body down • w. walkedfire ⋆

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 2 years

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MASTERLIST

My works are categorized by works that are SFW/Minor Friendly & NSWF/+18 Friendly. Please check specific warnings for each fic located in the bulleted list before each fic. All reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated.

Safe for Minors (SFW)

☆ Forever Is the Sweetest Con: After a successful case, which is hard to come by the BAU, the team (season 3 team) celebrates with drinks at the bar. things go arise when Penelope convinces a normally reserved Reader to sing karaoke.

☆ Sweet Valentine: a 22 year old Spencer Reid finds himself thinking about his firsts…and the one first that he has yet to accomplish.

☆ Cutie Pie: Spencer Reid’s second favorite holiday isn’t really a holiday, but it’s sure a day that he’ll never forget

☆ You Kiss My Face & We're Both Drunk: Who would have figured that a normally serious genius with an eidetic memory would be a silly, forgetful drunk, or drunk Spencer realizes how much he loves Reader

☆ 49%: If there’s one thing that Spencer hates more than rejection, it’s spontaneity. But sometimes the things (and people) we love outweigh the things that we hate.

☆ I'll Take X-Pecting for 200, Alex: Spencer Reid plays a trivia game at the request of his wife, Y/N, but he’s in for more than some heaving hitting questions

☆ Take My Hand And Drag Me Head First: Spencer Reid is a scientists and scientists love predictability; but love isn’t predictable, it’s fearless.

☆ I Can't Help It If You Look Like An Angel: Spencer is not that kind of doctor, but he’ll always come when Y/N needs him, even if germs are involved.

☆ Band-Aids Don't Fix Bullet Holes: In a standoff with an unsub, reader makes a choice: her life or Spencer’s.

☆ French Toast Waffle Sundays: Coming home to Reader from a stressful case, Spencer needs a little reassurance that he’s as wonderful as Reader thinks he is.

☆ Open Me Carefully: Reader finds her hopelessly in love with Spencer, who unfortunately for them is hopeless when it comes to love

☆ The Moment I Knew (My Future Was Sweet): Spencer plans a surprise birthday party for reader, who comes to the realization that Spencer is the one who’s always been there for her

☆ Crawl Home To Here: The only thing that’s keeping Spencer alive is the memories of his heaven. Maybe somehow how a faithless man will escape death’s grasp on faith alone

☆You Die in My Nightmares: Tired of being tired, Reader takes leap instead of counting sheep

☆ And I Will Hold On To You: New Year's Eve is for the new wishes and daring dreams, but New Year's Day is for cleaning up bottles with hopeful hearts.

☆ Though I Can’t Recall Your Face, I Still Got Love For You: Spencer’s always been ambivalent about his birthday, but self proclaimed lover of birthday’s Y/N attempts to change that.

☆ Can’t Say Anything To Your Face: Lunchtime is Spencer Reid’s favorite time of day and not because of the crappy endless coffee, dry sandwiches, or the occasional chocolate donut. Spencer’s favorite time of day comes in the shape of a little post it notes and fits perfectly into his heart.

☆ Right Where You Left Me: Y/N never expected to see him again when Spencer tore her heart out and left her in the dusty heat of a Las Vegas diner.

☆ Don’t Thank Me For Loving You: Spencer and Reader have been dating for a total of 4 weeks. If someone asked, Spencer would be able to tell them the exact amount of time he’s been in love with Y/N. So why does he get so nervous to share a bed?

☆ The Doctor Is In: Reader knows that they shouldn’t have dairy, but it’s hard to resist the creamy sweetness, especially when an equally sweet husband wants to have a relaxing vacation.

☆ My Silent Screams, Our Wildest Dreams: Reader knows two things, she loves Spencer and Spencer doesn’t love her back. But, she finds herself learning a couple more things that threaten to shake up her world.

☆ You Remind Me of You: Spencer Reid is good at many things, but he just might be too good at pretending to be in love with Reader.

☆ Boys Only Want Love If It’s Torture: You don’t hate may people, but you sure do hate the ridiculously cute Dr. Spencer Reid.

☆ I Will Stay: Spencer returns home after leaving Gideon’s cabin, but is haunted by the ghosts of his past and the finicky fate of his future.

☆ Honestly & Truly: Spencer has his prom 10 years late, but none of that matters when it’s with the girl of his dreams.

☆ That’s When: Sometimes Spencer’s mouth works faster than he his brain. And when that happens there’s casualties of the heart

☆ Unconditional Love: Spencer is anxious to get home to help his secret fiancée grieve the loss of her beloved cat, Chuck

☆ You and Me Forevermore: Weddings are the promise of you and me forevermore. Spencer and you share a special dance.

☆ Forever Composed Of Nows: Spencer continues a tradition and asks an important question.

☆ Stars Around My Scars: The incident with Hotch and the hostage brings up some bad memories for Spencer, but sometimes you fate has a funnily little way of showing you the people that will draw stars around your scars.

☆ Passwords & Passionate Pecks: It’s time to change computer systems passwords at the BAU. To make things easier, Garcia tells Spencer to memorize the passwords, but for some reason Reader doesn’t want him to know.

☆ It’s Gonna Be Alright (With You By My Side): Reader has some news for Spencer, but he needs some help putting it together. When he realizes it’s as easy as well, one, two, three

☆ Eyes Like Sinking Ships: The boy with the rosy cheeks and golden eyes in the library has some secrets up his sleeve

☆ There’s A Heart On Your Sleeve (I’ll Take It When You Leave): Spencer is no Clyde and you are no Bonnie, but why can’t you just run from it all?

☆ That’s How I Know Your Mine: Spencer and Reader decide to screw the traditional wedding and get married amongst the wildflowers.

☆White Lies & Warm Sweethearts: Spencer’s overactive daydreams lead him to a date with Reader, the love of his life, expect for one thing, it’s completely fake.

☆ Confetti Falls To the Ground: You want his midnights, his New Year’s Days, and everything and anything with him in between

☆ I Only See: Spencer thinks back to all the times he’s been in love, has mistaken pain for love, or wished he was in love

☆I Hope I Never Lose You, I Hope It Never Ends: Spencer and Reader are roommates, but she's harboring a secret that has the power to ruin everything good she has.

☆ Watched It Begin Again: After a breakup that nearly threatened to destroy her view of love, Reader finds some type of comforting the charming man she's set up with at the coffee shop. And maybe, just maybe, on a Wednesday, sitting in a café, she's ready to watch it begin again.

☆ Something Gave You The Nerve To Touch My Hand: At his mother’s funeral, Spencer sees an old, familiar face that he never thought he’d see again. But then again, he’s always had a habit of being haunted by the living.

☆ All Too Well: Reader finds herself reminiscing on a long gone relationship that she remembers all too well.

Not For Minors/Smut Fics

☆ Is This Gonna Be Graded?: Y/N’s last assignment is simple, write down everything that you’d want to try. The options are endless and that just might be the end of her.

☆ It’s A Love Story, Baby: Secret relationships can be fun, but sometimes the love runs so deep that it’s just begging to get the spotlight. Love like that is difficult, but it’s the realest thing Spencer and Y/N have ever felt.

☆You Can Hear It In the Silence: Sneaking around can be fun, but sometimes the silence is just too quiet, or a small moment of falling in love with your best friend.

☆ Worship This Love: Y/N doesn’t think she can get jealous easily. She knows that Spencer is almost as head over heel for her as she is for him. But still, seeing the pretty detective grab Spencer by the tie is enough to send her into a jealous stupor.

☆ (De)Railed: The canon episode “Derailed” reimagined where Reader is sent on the solo interview and Spencer, recklessly, decides to save her. Plus, the aftermath.

☆ I Once Was Poison But Now I’m Your Daisy: Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? Most people don’t think that translations to having a clandestine relationship with someone you’re supposed to hate, yet most people don’t have a Spencer Reid in their life.

☆ And I’ll Do Anything You Say (If You Say It With You Hands): Spencer and Reader are forced to share a room, but can’t resist falling into old patterns, even though it’s dangerous and just might break them.

☆Red Lips and Rosy Cheeks: Spencer Reid is a wallflower. But what happens to wallflowers when they’re invited to the dancefloor?

☆ I've Seen Sparks Fly: Spencer Reid has never felt sparks fly until you came along. He’s not used to not knowing things, but just may prove himself to be a quick learner.

☆ Mess of a Dreamer With the Nerve to Adore You: Spencer’s always been a dreamer, but now he has a chance to have those dreams come true.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #my writing #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you

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mintymiknow · 3 years

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Trust Fall - ch. 3 | Lee Minho

summary | character profiles | masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Reader

Summary: Thus starts your “journey” with the organization; you accompany Minho on a certain task to search for anything to aid the case. But nothing is easy when you aren’t ready to face certain things again...and when you work with people you don’t really trust.

Genre: Secret agent/spy au, romance, angst, action

Word count: Approx. 5.7k

Warnings for this chapter: Brief mention of experimentation but nothing is too graphic (not sure if there’s anything more, so let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: As you read this, please keep in mind that I am not an expert in chemistry, science or medicine, so do not take what it written literally. I don’t even know if they make sense, but this is all for the sake of fiction (the same goes for places mentioned)! Again, I’m pretty sure the chemical/scientific/medical things that go on are inaccurate and might not even be possible/real, but this is just fiction! As usual, drop an ask if you have any questions or comments, enjoy!

After Minho had left you with the other boys in the lab, you somehow “caught up” with Jisung and Seungmin...though they did most of the talking. Afterwards, as promised, you accompanied them to the cafeteria to have a late lunch where you also got to meet Hyunjin more properly. The long-haired agent was very friendly and sweet underneath the confident and almost flirty exterior, but that didn’t change anything.

You hated it here.

After lunch, a few female agents took you aside to inform you that they have provided some clothes for you to wear until Minho accompanies you to your house to fetch more things. And as promised, the male agent did return to check on you after his schedule with Chan and Changbin. He drove you back to your house, allowing you to get whatever things you needed.

The car ride was quiet, him waiting for you in your house was quiet - it was almost as if you believed this man refused to speak at all. Maybe it was a concept. Whatever, you’d tell yourself. What did it matter to you?

You only got a few papers and some of your favorite clothes - and a few intimates - that all fit in one backpack. Once you had slung it over your shoulder, you turned to Minho who only gave you a curt nod, gesturing for you to follow him to the car for another quiet, tension-filled ride back to HQ.

Thankfully, Felix’s words were true as you were able to gain access to your room already. Minho didn’t accompany you to your room, having parted ways as soon as you both got outside of the car. From your peripheral vision, you could see him walking to the main building, probably to meet up with other agents.

So here you were, bathed and dressed in pajamas, sprawled out on the bed. For now, sleep was all you could do.

You hear a faint knock on your door, prompting you to stir awake. You peel your eyes open, sighing as you refuse to leave the soft and heavenly bed. You lift your head from the pillow, instantly missing the comfort it gives you - the only comfort in this place after all. When you don’t respond or make any move to get up, the knock becomes slightly louder.

“Dr. Song, if you don’t open this door now, I’ll do it myself.”

You knew whose voice that belonged to, so naturally, you groan to yourself. So early in the morning, and you want to throw a pillow at the door. Or maybe a shoe or two. Before you can even make a response, the door indeed swings open, revealing an unamused Minho, hands shoved in his jean pockets. Gone is his crisp white shirt and slacks, now replaced by black jeans and a black shirt. If you weren’t so caught up in your anger and dislike for the organization, you would have thought that he looked attractive. Just a bit. Yes, you’d definitely want to throw a shoe right about now.

Now sitting up, you hug the sheets closer as if it were a security blanket. You shoot a glare towards the male, grumbling, “And how on earth did you open the door without me unlocking it? Invasion of privacy...ever heard of that?”

Minho sighs, rolling his eyes, “Relax, Dr. Song. You and I are the only ones who can open your door. Besides, I have access because I’m your ‘partner’, in Mr. Jung’s words. Rest assured that I’ll always knock first.”

“How reassuring.” you say, sarcasm dripping in your voice.

When Minho walks closer, you tug the sheets closer like a shield, the soft fabric wrinkling in your tight grip. Minho knows it’s an act of protection - a natural instinct - so he lets his expression soften just slightly, sighing as he leans against the wall. “Did you sleep well?” he asks.

The question catches you by surprise, your mind failing to come up with a decent reply. You merely stare at the male for a few seconds, trying to decipher the unamused yet warm glint in his eyes. With a sigh, your grip on the sheets loosens as you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “More or less.” you finally say, tense shoulders slumping slightly.

Minho nods once, pushing himself off the wall as he crosses his arms. “Good. You need to get dressed right now, though.”

“Is there something for me to work on in the lab?” you ask.

The agent shakes his head, “No, but you’re about to. Mr. Jung would like you to accompany us on a site.”

“I’m not a field agent.” you narrow your eyes, trying to reason out.

“It’s not a field mission, Dr. Song.” Minho explains calmly, “The other agents already took care of whatever targets were there since last night. You and I are going there to get evidence. Mr. Jung thinks you should come just in case you’d deem anything useful for your tests. Think of it as the forensics part in crime scene investigations.”

The agent is quick to see the flicker of fear and worry in your eyes; it was understandable. He knew that you weren’t exactly trained for this, and the idea of entering a “crime scene” when you’ve worked in labs or a hospital all your life was a bit nerve-wracking. Not to mention that you apparently had unresolved issues from before.

Who was he to judge?

He was the same when he first joined SKZ.

Apprehensive over everything, and though skilled, he worried he’d slip up and cost the lives of those around him. Missions always made him nervous at first, but he eventually got used to it, accomplishing them as if they were your mundane, everyday tasks.

Even if it cost him people.

Even if it cost him someone.

He sees himself in you perhaps, but he isn’t going to acknowledge that just yet.

Minho clears his throat, voice softer than he usually speaks with, yet still firm enough to display his authority, “You don’t have to worry about being in danger, Dr. Song. I’ll be there.”

You don’t know why a sense of relief washes over you, but it does, and you find yourself nodding subtly. Well, technically you’d be relieved if any other agent said the same thing; as long as you weren’t going to the scene alone, right?

You let out a deep breath, “I’ll get dressed.”

“Ok. Wear something comfortable.” Minho says, making his way to the door, “I’ll be outside.”

With that, the agent leaves your room and gently shuts the door. You pull the sheets off and hesitantly stand up, walking over to the closet to grab a pair of jeans and a sweater. You take a quick shower and get dressed, feeling pressured over the fact that Minho was waiting outside.

Then it dawned on you.

This is it. This is really it.

You were going to start working with SKZ.

Again.

You involuntarily shudder, shivers erupting through your body as goosebumps litter your skin. There was no turning back now, and you could only pray that you’d make it out alive and sane.

After you get dressed and ready yourself - which included a mental pep talk session - you meet Minho outside your room. The agent nods in acknowledgement once you make your presence known, “Good to go?”

“You know the answer to that, Agent Lee.”

You could have sworn you heard him chuckle, a small smirk playing at his lips. You decide to ignore the image of that, shoving it to the deep crevices of your mind. You follow him to the elevators in silence, not exactly sure of what to say or how to talk to the stoic agent. As if you wanted to converse with him anyway.

But perhaps it was in your nature - as a doctor and scientist - to be curious and wandering about.

So your eyes glance over to the side ever-so-subtly, and you manage to catch a glimpse of the male agent. Minho leans against the elevator’s clean walls, arms crossed over his broad chest. His eyes are watching the numbers tick by, his gaze unmoving and focused as if the red-lit numbers were the most interesting thing he’d seen.

But then he snaps his attention to you, sharp eyes piercing your own gaze as he raises a brow. “Yes, Dr. Song?”

You clear your throat - in a not very smooth manner - and rip your gaze away, opting to stare at the elevator doors, praying that they opened soon. “Nothing.” you blurt out, crossing your own arms a tad bit too defensively.

And as if your embarrassment wasn’t enough, your stomach makes a sound akin to a rumble. Your cheeks flush a very bright shade of pink, and you have to bite your lip to remain calm. Minho sighs in what you’d think was exasperation, but the small quirk of his lip says otherwise. “You should probably get something to eat on the way.” he says.

“I’m fine.” you mutter, pleading for the elevator to finally reach the ground floor so you could spare yourself the shame and embarrassment.

“I don’t want you collapsing on the scene, Dr. Song.” Minho starts, gesturing for you to step out as the doors finally open, “I said I’d keep you safe, but if you’re weak and hungry…”

“Agent Lee, I’ll be fine. Let’s just go.” you say more firmly this time, waiting for the male to lead you to wherever you needed to be.

“If you say so.”

“I said so.”

“Ok.”

With that, the agent gestures for you to follow him. You end up walking towards the main building where you get inside another elevator. There, Jeongin and Chan enter as well. The dimpled male looks at you, smiling, “Morning. On a mission, Dr. Song?”

“Ah, yes.” you look up to Minho who only nods, “I guess.”

Minho looks at his friends and asks, “Is Jung sending you two somewhere too?”

“Yeah. We’re going to where Changbin went last night. I think…” Jeongin trails off when he remembers you’re still there, “...classified.”

Chan smiles, shrugging his broad shoulders, “I think it’s just a clean-up task. It got pretty messy last night.”

“I see. Good luck.” Minho playfully salutes.

The two agents laugh before telling you both to stay safe as well. They then get out at Basement 1, leaving you and Minho in the elevator once more. “Are things...going to get messy where we’re going?” you suddenly ask, not expecting Minho to answer.

The male sighs, “It won’t, Dr. Song.”

You don’t sound so convinced, but you drop the topic when the elevator door opens to Basement 2. There, Minho leads you to the car he always uses. Once you’re both settled in, the agent drives off, dead silent as usual.

Neither of you make any effort to break the silence despite the nagging feeling that maybe someone should do so.

Without any clue as to how far this drive would take or how long Minho was going to act like a statue - in fairness, so were you - you decide to just look around his car. You take note of the iced americano in the cupholder near the steering wheel, his phone and whatever gadget near the center console, the other agent-ish stuff in the backseat...things you didn’t really care about.

But for some reason, you blurt out yet another ridiculous question, “Where are your guns...or whatever?”

At the sudden break of silence, - and sudden question - Minho spares a quick glance at you before clearing his throat and looking back at the road, “It’s with me. Why do you ask?”

“I…” you try to think why indeed, but you can’t seem to answer his question, “I don’t know. Maybe to be sure we’ll be safe…”

“I can defend both you and me without a gun, Dr. Song. Stop being so paranoid.” Minho says flatly. You miss the hint of affirmation in his voice.

“Whatever.”

After about an hour or so, Minho parks his car in some secluded, shaded area. “We’re here.” is all he says before getting out of the car, so you follow suit.

A cloud of eeriness blankets the entire area, a chill like no other creeping under your skin and settling in your bones like an unwanted leech. You unconsciously shiver despite the absence of any cold weather, and your feet remain planted in place as if someone zapped you with a freezing spell. Minho has to gently grab your wrist and tug you along for you to actually move from your spot.

You hesitate, pulling against the agent to get him to stop. “Agent Lee, wait.” you gulp, “I don’t think I can...just wait…”

Minho remains calm and patient as he turns around, tugging your wrist to pull you close enough to whisper with a low voice, “I understand that this is difficult for you, so I won’t force you to come with me. Would you rather wait in the car while we investigate?”

You entertain the idea for a while, but your mind drifts off into a what-if situation. What if someone sneaks up to the car? What if someone tries to attack you while you’re alone? What if you die in the car?

You purse your lips, nodding once before steeling yourself, “I’ll come.”

Minho doesn’t say anything in response, but he instead puts a tighter grip on your wrist as he leads you to the scene of investigation. You see the gesture as his way of making sure you don’t slow him down or run off somewhere, but to Minho, it was his way of assuring you.

I’m here, I’ll keep you safe, you’ll be ok.

Of course, that isn’t something he’d admit or say out loud.

And it isn’t something you were expecting anyway.

Minho leads you to a small abandoned house, rundown and ruined by time. It was still occupiable, but the cracks on the walls, vines and moss growing here and there, and the musty stench was enough to tell you how ruined it was. A few men wearing black, brown or gray clothing stood outside, going over their small notepads. When one sees Minho approaching, he bows and nods his head toward the small house, “Agent Lee, no threats found. I think the other team dealt with everyone here when they infiltrated last night. You can go around and check for things now.”

“Thank you. Dr. Song, if you will.” Minho bows to the other agents before stepping inside the house.

The agents bow at you before going back to their notes, and you take small steps inside the house. A rather pungent smell fills the air, but you try not to pay too much attention to it as you take one quick look around the house. There were only two divisions - the “foyer” where you and Minho were, and another room with tiled walls and floors. The room where you were currently standing was practically empty, save for the potted plant in the corner.

You take a bold step forward, and before you know it, you’re walking towards the plant. With your gloves on, you begin to examine the plant; touching the leaves, pinching the stem, rubbing it’s surface - everything to possibly get what you can. You quickly pull a leaf out and put it in the plastic bag the agents provided for evidence. Next, you sift through the soil, sniffing it more closely when your nose catches a whiff of it’s not-very-earthy scent. You crumble it in your hands, taking note of the unusual texture as well. The soil goes into a small plastic pouch too.

You then stand up and show Minho the two plastic pouches, “I’ll need these analyzed in the lab.”

The agent nods, taking the pouches from you and assigning them to the other agents, instructing them to put it with the things for the lab department. “I think you’re going to want to see the other room.” he says, nodding his head towards the tiled room.

You nod, making your way to the said room. It was much darker, a bit damp and definitely smelled of something rotten; what it was, you didn’t want to find out. When the other agents give you enough light, you start to rummage and look around the room. Minho does the same, sharp eyes making sure to not miss a single spot. You can hear him instructing the other agents from time to time, accompanied by the rustling of some plastics and whatnot.

Eyes too focused on a rather disturbing Renaissance painting of a battle, you don’t hear Minho calling your name. “Dr. Song.” he repeats once more, hand on your shoulder.

You jolt in surprise before turning to face the agent. Once he has your attention, Minho gestures to a desk with its drawers opened. You peer inside, eyes wide as you notice the small bottles with various colored liquid inside. You take each one and hand them over to Minho who puts them in a secured briefcase-like container. After you gather each one, you look at the agent, “What’s the context of this place? Like why were agents sent here? What did they find out?”

Minho looks at the doorway, licking his lips as he begins to explain, “This is one of the sites one of our scouts discovered. Long story short, they got intel that the culprit organization was using this for, well...testing.”

No wonder it smelled rotten inside.

You quiver again, closing your eyes as you continue with a shaky voice, “What’s the organization’s name? Jung never said anything.”

“Cle.”

“I see.”

Minho hums, “Anyway, last night, a team was sent here to infiltrate, but it was reported that when they got here, there were about four to five guards to keep watch, but no scientists or anyone else was found. After taking care of the guards, the team went in to investigate but found nothing.”

“Nothing?” you inquire.

“Well, in their eyes, it might have been nothing.” Minho looks at you with a genuine gaze, “You’re the scientist and doctor, Dr. Song. Your eyes and knowledge would pick up on things a field agent wouldn’t, which is why Jung sent you this morning.”

You can only nod, swallowing a dry lump in your throat, “Ok...well, I’m done. I think we can go back to HQ now, Agent Lee.”

“Very well.”

The drive back is quiet as usual, and you find yourself lost in your thoughts once more. You’re only interrupted when Minho makes a quick stop in some cafe, buying a cup of coffee for himself...and for you; it actually catches you by surprise, and you look at him suspiciously for a good five seconds before he rolls his eyes and tells you to “just drink it or dump it...Dr. Song”.

Once you’re back in the headquarters, you and Minho make a beeline for the lab department where Seungmin, Jisung and a few other scientists are already waiting in one of the test rooms. Jisung gives you a lab coat before leaning on one of the lab tables, “So, what do we need to test?”

You spread out all the things you found, pointing at each one, “The soil is definitely contaminated. It smells like phosphorus, but I need to be sure. We can use the leaf for double-checking to see if the plant absorbed any substances. And then these vials...I don’t know. Some look like familiar mixtures, but we can never be too sure.”

“Got it.” Jisung nods before grabbing the pouches with the soil and leaf.

Seungmin takes a few vials while you take the one with purple liquid inside - purplish with a tinge of red-pink making a smoke dispersion effect. The other scientists take whatever’s left, and soon, everyone is doing their own thing.

You focus on your tasks, running tests and using the lab equipment to make observations. From the corner of your eye, you see Seungmin dropping a few of the liquids onto a Petri dish before analyzing it through a microscope. You also notice Minho observing Jisung who was running tests on the soil, the two talking to each other in between.

You do the same as Seungmin, placing a few drops onto a Petri dish before putting all your attention on analyzing it through the microscope. You adjust and tweak the focus, straining your eyes as much as you can to make observations. When you notice a little unusual activity going on in the reactions, you push your chair back and roll it over to the other table, grabbing a syringe and filling it with a very small amount of the substance. You fill a beaker with water before dropping the syringe’s contents little by little. The water begins to fizzle before making a tiny explosion. It doesn’t faze any of you, and you even bring yourself closer to look at the new mixture.

“Reactive with water...some of these substances are making use of alkali metals.” you point out, looking at the beaker.

Seungmin nods, “I found the same, but it doesn’t make sense. Maybe it is dangerous, but those aren’t enough to be some super deadly serum. Surely they’d know that.”

You nod, turning your head to Jisung who was now in a safety suit, walking over to one of the more protected experiment rooms in the lab. “So, one of the prime contaminants I’m picking up from the soil is sulfur…” Jisung starts, holding up a chunk of material that can be used for testing, “...so it’s safe to say that they attempted to make their serum using sulfuric acid. Nasty stuff.”

The male then holds a test tube filled with a clear liquid tinged with a hue of green, “But this isn’t just purely sulfuric acid. It’s somehow...way stronger and more concentrated than it should be.”

Jisung then carefully pours the liquid onto the test material, taking a few steps back afterwards. Everyone in the room then watches the test, eyes glued to the chunk that was slowly but surely melting away. You barely register Jisung furrowing his eyebrows in disgust and Seungmin turning around to write something on a notepad.

You barely register the rapid beating of your heart as your mind blanks and fills with things you didn’t really need at the moment.

Your eyes are locked on the test material, its pale brownish color turning into a putrid greenish-black as the liquid acid eats at it. Bubbles form on its surface, and you can hear the hissing sounds it makes even from your place in the room. The material then morphs and distorts itself, no longer looking like a cube but some hideous pile of monstrosity.

It reminds you of all the skin you’ve seen burned and melted away.

Of all the faces of agony you had to see and screams of desperation you had to hear.

The lives taken when you should have saved them.

And in an instant, you stand abruptly, knocking the chair down and startling Seungmin beside you. Jisung looks at you quizzically, but you end up ignoring him as your feet take you to the doors. Minho grabs your arm as gently as he can, opening his mouth to ask, “What’s - ”

But before he can finish his question, you yank your arm away and walk out of the lab room. Your shoes click against the white floor, matching the loud thumping of your heartbeat. Your hands are shaking as your head spins, nausea taking over your body. After letting your feet drag you to wherever, you end up in one of the vacant areas of the lab, slumping against the wall until you’re seated on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest.

Your breathing becomes heavier, a disturbing buzzing noise filling your mind. You shake your head as if doing so will get rid of everything - will stop everything - despite you knowing otherwise. “Just stop…” you whisper to no one but yourself, on the verge of screaming out.

Just then, you feel a hand on your knee, gently tapping as if to get your attention. You slowly look up, swallowing the lump in your throat when Chan smiles at you. “Hey, Dr. Song.” he smiles, “I saw you run out of the room. Is everything alright?”

You clear your throat, trying to compose yourself as you sit straighter, “Sorry...I just...”

“Would you like to step out first? I’ll tell Minho.” the agent tilts his head to the side.

“No, I think I’ll be ok.” you shake your head, looking at the floor, “Thank you though, Agent Bang.”

“You can just call me Chan if you’d like.” he chuckles, offering his hand, “Might make you feel more at ease that way.”

You pretend to not hear what he says, instead, reluctantly taking his hand as he pulls you to stand up. The dimpled male flashes you one more smile before turning his head to the side, aware of another presence approaching. “Hey Min.” he playfully salutes.

Minho smiles at his friend, nodding in acknowledgement. At that, Chan pats his shoulder and says something like “I’ll report to Jung now, see ya” before bowing towards you and making his leave. When Minho’s gaze falls on you, there’s a stern expression clouding his features, but a certain and ironically warm glint in his dark eyes. “Dr. Song, is everything alright?”

You look away, now embarrassed that the agent is witnessing a moment of weakness; your teary eyes, shaking hands and flushed cheeks say it all. “It’s nothing.” you mutter, tugging on your lab coat.

Minho doesn’t look convinced, and he makes it a point to express it by lifting an eyebrow. However, he lets it go in an instant, pulling something out of his pocket. He dangles a small bottle of water in his hand, looking at you in a deadpan manner, “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

You wanted to accept it. You wanted to smile and thank the male for his consideration.

But you don’t.

Why? You aren’t sure.

You just know that you hated everything happening now. You know that being here was a mistake. You know that no one here is actually a friend. You know that everyone just slaps a mask on and acts out of kindness out of obligation - to just make sure you work.

You know that no one here acts kindly out of genuine care. You know that by heart.

No one is genuine. To each his own.

Then why accept Chan’s help? Who knows. Maybe it was because Chan was more expressive...transparent. Minho was a closed book surrounded by a mysterious cloud. You didn’t know what he felt or thought. He was too elusive, and you didn’t like that.

You hated being in the dark.

You stare at the bottle in Minho’s hand before gently pushing it away. “I don’t need it, thanks.” you say with a sigh.

You push past the agent to return to the lab room, calling over your shoulder in a flat tone, “I’ll get those test results ready ASAP with Jisung and Seungmin.”

Minho watches you trudge back to the lab room, biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to contain his annoyance. With a heavy sigh, he follows, entering the lab shortly after you.

Maybe this is why he didn’t like people besides his friends. People were difficult.

The next day, as everyone was still waiting for the lab results from the prior day, you decided to spend your morning reading a book you brought along when you and Minho went to your house to get things.

By the time it was a little past 12:00 noon, you decided to eat lunch in one of the snack bars of the living quarters. The main cafeteria at the ground floor was usually crowded with other agents, so you opted for the smaller snack bar at the fourth floor; maybe things would be more quiet there, allowing you to be alone for a while.

You lean on one of the countertops, staring blankly at the half-empty cup of coffee in front of you. The croissant on your plate is barely eaten, the glazed ham inside trying to catch your attention again. Alas, you find yourself swimming in your thoughts again...except you aren’t leisurely wading but exhaustingly swimming laps in a never ending ocean.

What if you couldn’t find a way to safely negate and dispose of the serum? Would that mean you’d be stuck here for years? Sure, you’re a scientist and doctor, but did that mean you had the solution? What if you really couldn’t do it?

You sigh deeply, cradling your head in your hands as you internally groan. You’re finally disturbed from your state when your phone - or the phone SKZ gave you to use for work-related matters and such - began to vibrate on the counter’s surface. You check the caller ID to see that Seungmin was calling.

“Hello?” you answer tiredly.

“Y/n.” Seungmin starts, “Jisung got the test results just now. Minho wants you to come now.”

“Ok, where?”

“Lab Room 4.”

“I’m coming.”

You drag yourself off the stool, grabbing the phone and leaving the snack bar.

When you enter the lab room, Jisung, Minho, Chan, Changbin, Seungmin and Jung are there already, all seated on the chairs provided. You make an effort to avoid everyone’s eyes, focusing instead on the sheets of paper in Jisung’s hand. “What did you find?” you ask immediately.

Jisung holds his pointer finger up before waving the sheets of paper in the air. “So I was right about majority of their stuff being sulfuric acid. And as y/n pointed out, there were a lot of nitrogen and hydrogen formulas being tested. Seungmin was also correct in observing the chlorine properties.” the scientist explains.

Jung leans back on the chair and nods slowly, “Yet they can’t seem to find the perfect formula, huh.”

Chan shrugs, “All those chemicals are dangerous in itself. I’m sure they want something much more potent and destructive. Instant death kind of stuff.”

“What else can we deduce from those results?” Minho inquires.

Jisung nods, “Well, you shouldn’t be able to obtain such chemicals in drugstores or anything. Only licensed and authorized organizations, clinics or labs are allowed to distribute and acquire them. Luckily, we know where most, if not all, these chemicals are supplied.”

“Gimpo.” you state, eyes scanning the test result papers, “Nitrogen, hydrogen, chlorine and sulfuric acid - whether gas, liquid or solid - are mostly supplied and distributed in a lab in Gimpo. Only licensed people are allowed to go and purchase things, usually for lab work or hospital stocks.”

Changbin leans forward, looking at Minho and Chan, “Then I guess we know where to sniff around.”

The two agree with the agent, the three of them turning their attention to Jung. The head hums for a second before sitting up straight and nodding. “I want the three of you to investigate. If this is a highly secured and picky location, we’d need a permit to enter. Y/n, would you happen to have access to this lab?”

You contemplate whether to tell the truth - yes, you do - but you didn’t really want to go, thus being conflicted in lying and saying no.

But what if you told them about whatever permit you had and they later on use that to their advantage? What if it allows SKZ to gain control and access to dangerous chemicals and drugs?

It wouldn’t be the first time people exploited you for your skills and qualifications, and it certainly wouldn’t be the first time people from SKZ use others to do the wrong things.

Ironic. You hated lies and being lied to, yet here you were, almost willing to do so.

However, that urge doesn’t last long. Not when Minho is staring at you with a piercing gaze. A piercing gaze that shoots past your flimsy, sheet-thin mask as if looking into your very soul.

As if telling you that he already knew the answer.

In his defense, your body language was quite easy to read. That was one of his special gifts, perhaps; to read and observe how people behave. Not a mind reader, definitely not, but experience and certain events taught him to see past people much better now.

You eventually nod your head, replying with a shaky voice, “I do. My license as both scientist and doctor permits me to visit that lab.”

“Great. Jisung, do you have anything of that sort as well?” Jung turns to the male.

“Yeah.” Jisung nods, “I have a scientific permit of sorts.”

“Seungmin?”

“Medical license, but I still need to finish some things up in the medical wing.” Seungmin explains, “Some agents still need their injuries checked and all.”

“I see.” Jung nods, “Then Jisung and y/n will accompany Minho and the rest on this investigation. The sooner you leave, the better.”

“Got it.” the three agents respond in unison while Jisung nods.

Jung dismisses everyone and leaves the room first. Before Chan leaves next, he says, “Should we head out in an hour?”

“Sounds good.” Changbin nods, “I’ll get things ready.”

Jisung says he’s going to do the same, so the two exit the room. Chan smiles at you, “Dr. Song, just bring whatever you think is necessary. Or...you don’t need to bring anything actually.”

With that, he leaves as well. You then turn to Minho, biting your lip before speaking. But as you open your mouth to say whatever, Minho speaks ahead. “Call the lab and inform them that we’ll be dropping by for inquiry and business purposes.” he says sharply, “We’ll get things done faster if we aren’t held back by their questions on the site itself.”

You nod but still ask, “And if they ask anything more?”

“Come up with a believable explanation.”

“So lie?”

Minho smirks, his voice dripping with pure and utter sarcasm, “Surely you can do that, Dr. Song.” he looks at you with a gaze you can’t quite read - disappointment, perhaps - before continuing, “You were just about ready to do that not so long ago.”

“I didn’t - ”

“Don’t lie to me or anyone in here, Dr. Song.” Minho warns, the smirk now gone and replaced with a scowl, “You wouldn’t like it if you were the one lied to.”

He then leaves the lab room, leaving you to deal with your fuming irritation.

Yes, you didn’t like it, but jokes on him because it already happened before.

And by the very people of the organization he worked in.

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miskatonique · 3 years

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HERBERT WEST CHEAT SHEET !

since my muses are not super well known in the contemporary rpc ( and i’m too lazy to do a full about page at this very moment ) i decided to put together little posts for them that give their general backgrounds, vibes, and plot possibilities !

this is a mix of canon and headcanon, and these are subject to change / adapt as i get more used to writing the characters

BACKGROUND:

Films: Re-Animator 1985, Bride of Re-Animator 1990, Beyond Re-Animator 2003

We don’t talk about Beyond Re-Animator......

Dr. Herbert West, 24 in the first movie, 27 in the second movie, idk like 40 in the third movie. Mad scientist to the MAX. In the novelization Herbert is an orphan who gets passed around in foster homes before eventually going to undergrad at NYU and pursuing his theory about the re-animation of dead tissue. Mostly people think he’s sort of crazy until one of his articles catches the eye of Dr. Hans Gruber at a university in Switzerland, and he invites Herbert to come work alongside him. Herbert eventually grows to respect Gruber as both a mentor and father-figure.

Herbert and Gruber develop a reagent that affects re-animation in dead animal tissue but they know that for their results to be taken seriously they need to do a human trial. Dr. Gruber volunteers but the dosage of the reagent is too large, and though it brings Gruber back to life it quickly overwhelms his system and he dies again. Herbert is taken into psychiatric custody in Switzerland but is eventually released.

Herbert returns to America and specifically sets his sights on Miskatonic Medical School in Arkham, Massachusetts because one of the staff, Dr. Carl Hill, used to work with Gruber years ago, and even went on to plagiarize some of Gruber’s work and publish it in America. Herbert makes it his secondary goal to absolutely terrorize Dr. Hill, and because he’s a chaotic gremlin in human form he’s very good at it.

Herbert continues working on perfecting the reagent, rooming with Dan Cain and eventually pulling Dan into the experiments as well when Dan’s cat dies and Herbert is able to prove his research by reanimating it. Herbert isn’t perturbed when Dan’s talk with Dean Halsey goes south, and just digs his heels in and insists that the only way to truly prove that the reagent works is to reanimate a human cadaver.

Results are just as bad as you’d expect. Sure, the cadaver reanimates but it also wrecks the morgue and kills Dean Halsey. RIP. Herbert insists that they reanimate him and the dean comes back less like himself and more animalistic, trying to kill both Herbert and Dan before his daughter Meg shows up and stops him. Despite it all, Herbert manages to wriggle his and Dan out of any suspicion from the police but Dr. Hill takes an interest in Herbert’s work once he does exploratory surgery of Dean Halsey and finds out he’s technically dead.

Dr. Hill confronts Herbert in his laboratory and threatens to steal Herbert’s work and take it for his own, offering Herbert the meager honour of being his assistant. Herbert promptly murders Hill via decapitation but decides not to let his fresh corpse go to waste and reanimates both Hill’s head and his body, which come back to life and knock Herbert out and steal all of his work.

Yada yada, Herbert gets Dan to help him go after Hill, the big climax happens. Herbert is able to prove his theory about overdose by shooting up Dr. Hill’s headless body with a bunch of reagent, which backfires and Herbert is left for dead all tangled up in Hill’s intestines, but not after he ensures that his research is safe with Dan.

They never explain how Herbert survives the first movie but he sure is alive in the second movie! It’s roughly 3ish years after the first film, so he’s got his doctorate now and he’s drug Dan all the way to Peru so they can be volunteer medics in a civil war. This obviously gives Herbert an unprecedented access to fresh bodies for his experiments.

Eventually he and Dan head back to Miskatonic Hospital, where they’re able to get jobs and a creepy cute little house that used to be a mortuary so they can continue the work. Herbert is now obsessed with the reanimation of separate parts and convinces Dan to help him build an entirely new life from parts. Dan’s not on board until Herbert shows him Megan Halsey’s heart and promises that they’ll build the body around it.

Dr. Hill’s head also somehow survived the first movie and it tries to terrorize Herbert, along with a cop who’s investigating Herbert for stealing corpses. Herbert eventually kills and reanimates the cop, and then gets into even more trouble when all of the other strange creatures he’s been reanimating start coming after him because they’re being mind controlled by Dr. Hill’s nasty head ( don’t ask me okay, this script was written in literally 6 weeks it makes no sense )

Anyway Herbert and Dan successfully bring their creation to life right before getting attacked by Dr. Hill and his army of weirdos, all while Dan is having a mental breakdown because he thinks the creation is his dead girlfriend Meg. In the chaos Dan and the creation escape separately while Herbert and Hill and co. get trapped under buried rubble and are left for dead ( AGAIN ).

But surprise! Herbert isn’t dead! We don’t know how he survived but we do know that at some point in time Dan turned over evidence to the authorities that led to Herbert’s arrest and imprisonment. The third movie picks up with Herbert who’s been in prison for 13 years and the dumbass new hospital doctor is a fanboy of Herbert and brings in some of his reagent. Herbert basically starts a prison riot, chaos ensues, this movie is Not Good, but the important thing is that Herbert escapes prison with his work and gets to walk off free and definitely alive into the night <3

VIBES / PERSONALITY:

His work is EVERYTHING to him -- there have been multiple times where Herbert has put his work above his own bodily safety or chance of survival, and I guarantee he would do it again, too. Herbert is mostly focused on being able to do the impossible simply because it’s “impossible.” He’s able to convince Dan to help him because he reasons the practical applications of his reagent, like saving lives by aiding in surgeries or helping with amputations, but at the end of the day Herbert is only concerned with discovery, acclaim, and giving classical science a big ‘ole middle finger.

He can be incredibly manipulative when looking for a specific action or behavior in the people close to him. This mostly is seen in how he treats Dan, often reeling him back in with promise of how much good their work will do in the world when Dan starts to get squeamish. Herbert is also really good at finding the sorest spots in someone and pressing on them, but usually only does this when he wants to prove a point or if he really hates someone.

He gains a lot of power by seeming like the more “level-headed” person in an altercation, but he can get extremely excitable or aggressive, especially when something goes well with his research or if it’s being threatened.

He’s genuinely a good doctor, doesn��t freak out under pressure, has neutral-good bedside manner, is very decisive and isn’t afraid to make difficult decisions when it comes to a patient’s life. However, Herbert considers himself a scientist first and a doctor second. The work on reanimation will always come before anything else.

He’s a HUGE fucking nerd, he loves making puns or little zingers whenever he can fit them into a conversation. He also likes playing practical jokes, though he doesn’t do it often. He’s got a great evil giggle.

Oh he’s terrible at taking care of himself. There’s a deleted scene from the first movie where Herbert is shown to be injecting himself with a weakened version of the reanimating reagent because it helps keep his brain sharp and makes it to where he doesn’t have to sleep. What a NUT. I think he probably weans off this habit, by force or choice. His sleeping and eating habits are still pretty bad, though. Definitely the kind of person who doesn’t eat/sleep/rest unless he’s genuinely about to collapse because of it.

Oh he’s also sooooooooooo gay. gay gay gay homo sexual.

There are very few people he outright respects or enjoys spending time around, and with everyone else he is absolutely so bitchy and rude. He doesn’t give a single shit about being polite. Also ACAB.

PLOT POSSIBILITIES:

Got any canonically dead muses? Want them to be alive again? Herbert can help with that! He’ll definitely want to make sure they stick around and observe them to see why the reagent worked so well, maybe do some extra tests, so he can also double as a really annoying, creepy roommate. Score!

Med student muses? I have a new classmate for you

Ever wondered what your muse would do if they saw someone graverobbing, or smuggling body parts into their house in the middle of the night? Do they stop him? Ask questions? Offer to help? Now’s the chance to find out!

He could always use a new assistant since Dan keeps abandoning him after every movie, jfc, loyalty is so hard to find these days

Meet-cute where one of his reanimated creations tries to murder you and he saves you from it <3

#( SAVE TAG: H. WEST. )#ooc #this one especially is very infodumpy #i think that's why i was putting it off cuz i knew it was gonna be long a;lskfjda #herbert is the reason i started this blog..... i love this little bitch so much....#not even sure if this is coherent besties !

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years

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PG-13 NINJAGO REWRITE/UNIVERSE ALTERATIONS!

This is basically if the show was meant for a more teenaged and mature audience. I don't know how long this will be, but I'll just start with the characters first, because I can

Because he's my favorite, and I love him, Zane's first: Instead of being a robot, how about something more tragic? DECADES remotely close to the series beginning, Zane was in a very nice family. An adopted, blended family, but a nice family nonetheless. So, what happened? A storm? A fire? A natural disaster? Worse. A war. A raid made by the opposing side, more specifically. Zane protected his siblings and villagers from attackers, but was grabbed and lined up for execution. When they grabbed and injured an elderly man, Zane attacked the officer and punched him. A lot. Another officer muzzle bumped him off and beat him to death in front of his family. The ally side arrive and save everyone. Too bad they're too late to save Zane. All, but one. A scientist who's been reformed and is skilled in mechanics and artificial organs; synthetics. He's also lost his own son. He deserts into the woods with Zane and gets to work, replacing Zane's skin with a stretchy material close to what you find in the legs of old barbie dolls, where the legs and heads were soft, his hair with- well, wig hair, his bones and joints with metal and clock work, his normal eyes with porcelain doll eyes, and his heart with a core that keeps him running and alive. Think Tony Stark's arc reactor, but if it's removed, Zane has 15 minutes to put it back or else he'll die and stay dead. It took FOREVER, but Zane eventually awoke up. The doctor, fuck it, was so relieved and helped Zane sit up and get used to being alive again-and half metal, but let's focus on his motor skills first. He lived with this doctor for a VERY, VERY long time. For context, if we were to set this in 2021, Zane would have died in around 1923 and been brought back in 1944 and saw the doctor that worked on him die in 2010. He's OLD. Back on track, Zane learned all he does, reading, talking, cooking, and whatnot, until the master of ice pays a visit and spends the day with Zane, asking him who he is, how old he is, and how long he's been with the doctor. After his visit, and Wu's, the doctor starts to see Zane slowly realize what's happened to him, but also question where his family is. Turns out the war wasn't easily won because the doctor shows Zane a family in a graveyard, near where they live. HIS FAMILY. And his name is there too. After this, Zane is traumatized, refusing to eat, drink, sleep, and talk, even ignoring his companion in the form of the Falcon. When the doctor sees Zane shaking sporadically, and sees him drooling a lot, he realizes the toll this is all taking on his son, who breaks down emotionally and mentally in his arms.

"F-father?"

"Yes? What is it, Zane?"

"I'm supposed to be dead, right? The tombstone in the graveyard, I should be under it, right?"

Cue silence from the doctor.

"Do you love me?"

"More than life itself."

"And... you would do anything for me?"

"Anything. Why?"

"I want to die. I want you to destroy me!"

The doctor gasps and hugs Zane close.

"I can't! You're my son, Zane! I can't lose you!"

"Am I your son, or your prized possession built from scrap parts and a corpse?"

"Zane-"

"I had a sister!" Zane snaps. "A mother! A father! And three brothers and a cousin and an uncle! I died protecting them and here I am while they rest beneath the ground!"

"You're my son, Zane!" The doctor holds Zane's shoulders to steady him. "You're my son, and I do love you. You're all that I have now, son."

Zane, broken and miserable, apologizes to his father as he drives a screwdriver into his own head, forcing his father to catch him as he falls down.

When Zane comes to, he's resting in his bed and feels worse than ever, as in he's sad and guilty for going off on his father the way he did.

The doctor apologizes for not telling him sooner, admitting that Zane's recovery took so long that resurrecting his whole family would be impossible, even if he'd taught Zane how to do it, no one in his family had the same blood type and some were even allergic to the medicine used to keep Zane's body fresh.

When Zane feels a poke in his head and notices his foot twitches at random, he gets curious. "What are you working on now?"

"You've been having seizures recently. I want to make sure the small cables and wires in your brain are all set correctly, so I know none of them are causing it."

"I see."

"Can you say your name?"

"Zane."

"Can you spell it?"

Cue some focused humming as Zane struggles a little bit. "Z... A...I-"

"Wrong. Try again."

"Z... A..." Long pause. "N... E."

"Good."

"Can... Can you change things from your position? Effect my movements and mind?"

"I can try."

"Can you make me forget?"

The doctor tells Zane it would be better if he remembered his family, but Zane weeps as he admits he'll tey to destroy himself again, if he remembers his family; it's not just grief, it's also a huge amount of guilt over the fact that he's alive while his family is dead.

The doctor agrees and hides his memories of his family.

He also rigs the same wiring to his heart rate monitor; when he dies, Zane will leave and forget him, and the fact that he is supposed to be dead. He'll forget just about everything, except for his name, how to read, breathe, eat, and take care of himself.

AND THAT HAPPENS.

Zane wanders through the woods, mute and silent until some villagers take him in and give him shelter. It takes a village to raise a child, so the village pitches in. Some children try getting him to play with them, but he only stands and stares, even when a little girl tells him she thinks he's cute.

Wu finds him again, and takes him to the monastery, where Jay and Cole are.

They do not like Zane. He stands, he stares, and he barely pays attention to what they have to say, though he does stare at Wu a lot.

They also think he's creepy because, well... remember that one stance Arthur does in the movie Joker, where he stands holding himself between the door frames and looks really creepy? Zane does that. A lot. In the morning when they wake him up and at night when they're about to go to sleep.

They sort of got what was wrong when he had a seizure while cooking; Cole was talking and explaining why he and Jay were keeping their diatance from him, and then heard Zane fall and the pot OF BOILING SOUP tumble on top of him. He shouted for Wu amd Jay and held Zane until the seizure stopped and Zane just stared at him tiredly and almost like he was about to cry.

"Are you... okay, Zane?"

"... Co... Cole?"

"Yeah? What is it?"

"... I'm sorry. Dinner is... going to have to wait." Zane tries to stand, but Jay holds his shoulder.

"Dude, are you sure? We can just order takeout for the night, if you're not up for cooking."

"I'm... I'm fine... J... J..."

Jay holds Zane in front of him by the shoulders. "I'm Jay. Remember?" Zane repeats Jay's name and Jay and Cole help him to sit down at the table.

"Perhaps you should rest for the evening and allow one of your brothers to prepare dinner tonight?" Wu highly recommends as he holds a hand on Zane's shoulder, in case he has another seizure.

Zane reluctantly agrees and Jay and Cole order a pizza; Zane offered to pay, but they told him to sit the hell down.

Upon meetung Kai, Zane is back at square one, except he has Cole and Jay to keep him in check and to help Kai gor when he gets weirded out.

They all get scared when they hear and see Zane banging his head against the wall, like bending his back and head back and curling into the wall as hard as he can and when he had a really bad seizure while sleeping, but don't bring it up because he stares off into space and stops cooking.

YOU CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW THEY REACTED WHEN THEY ALL GOIND OIT ZANE HAS BEEN DEAD ALL THIS TIME!!!!!!!

Personality wise, Zane is still smart, funny on accident, and very brave with a sixth sense, he's just the most "ninja" out of all the ninja because he's surprisingly light on his feet and quiet as a shadow. When he meets someone new, he doesn't talk. At all. It's a trust thing, so he'll whisper to anyone he does trust to talk back to the new person.

Still the ice ninja, but Kai made the mistake of interrupting a staring contest between Zane and his mirror reflection by tapping on his shoulder.

Zane spun around to face him with terrifying speed, but Kai backed up and held his hands up.

"Sorry, Zane. I just... You're... really cold."

Zane checked his outfit, which was long sleeved.

"I don't know, maybe... take a bath to warm up? Eat a little more? Get sime sunshine?"

Their one sided conversation ended with Zane staring at him before patting Kai on the head, and trying to make his spiky ass hair stay down, and returning to the mirror.

I should note:

ZANE AND MIRRORS DO NOT MIX.

He hates them. They freak him out. It has nothing to do with memories, he just gets scares that there's another him in another bathroom in another monastery in another Ninjago in another world, where it's all the same, but backwards. Sort of doesn't get that all reflective surfaces like ceramic plates, cutlery, and anyhting else of the sort are just reflecting light.

He doesn't get movies or video games, either. The other three tried teaching him, but he quickly became the player they had to look out for, because he'd get lost exploring the game's map rather than actually playing, which he found boring. Usually he'll just sit back and watch them play, ever the passive observer.

His seizures are due to immense stress and his memories trying to come back, but the little feat of tinkering his father did keeps fighting back, so whenever he's cooking and reminded of the doctor that saves him, he has a seizure.

He can take a lot of damage, but he's not good with getting electrocuted; if he's hit, he's down and useless for fifteen minutes, at least. Remember that cinstricti that almost killed him and Cole? Zane was more annoyed at the snake and concerned for Cole's safety rather than his. AND THE SNAKE DIDN'T FEEL ZANE'S RIBS. AT ALL.

The area around the core that keeps Zane alive is made if a similar material as those squishy slime balls that you sqeeze and the slime spews out of the little holes in the net, but a little more durable. Now that I think about it, it's made of a sort of ooblek substance, but it's a different matieral than cornstarche added. I don't know what, but it's made to keep the core, and Zane, from getting hurt.

Zane actually hides from Nya during her first few months of joining the team. Again, nothing to do with memory, he just got freaked out because she got kidnapped by the skeleton army. She keeps her distance, too, giving him glances and smiles while he stares at her, and Jay even switched seats with Nya to try and help Zane warm up to her, as in he'd sit next to her. He did so and got Nya to talk about something that had been eating her up inside, leading to her hugging him and crying in his shoulder. Kai and Jay were extremely close to yelling at him until Nya pulled away and thanked Zane, because she needed to cry.

When they go off on him for what happened to the monastery, Zane has a mini seizure until he sees the falcon and leaves just as the seizure starts.

Cole and Jay know what to do with these seizures, but when Kai first saw Zane having one, he held Zane and shouted for help until Zane put a hand over Kai's mouth and rubbed his eyes with the other; "I hate when that happens."

For any TLDR people: Zane's basically a reanimated corpse running on robot energy who doesn't remember his past because he asked to not remember. He can talk, he just doesn't much because it's a trust thing. Cooking is his therapeutic thing, he sleeps fine, but he has a hard time going to sleep. Still has his sixth sense and ice powers, he's just more mute and out of tune with the others; guy killed in 1923 is in 2021. Great asset to the team, even though he's the guy they keep an eye on so he doesn't get to badly hurt.

I'll write more about the other ninja, this is just to show how mature this universe alteration is going to be

Oh, yeah, here's Cole's alterations. I didn't change too much of his character, but I hope you guys still like it😅

#ninjago #ninjago rewrite #universe alteration #war tw #character death tw #self annihilation tw #voluntary amnesia tw #seizure tw #angst and distress tw #ninjago zane

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the-girl-in-the-box · 3 years

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Can You Imagine? V

A/N: So, I had SOMETHING I wanted to add at the end of this chapter, but I have entirely forgotten what that was. This means the chapter isn't *quite* as long as I'd have liked to be. Hopefully it's still enjoyable, especially as I do think a lot still happens in the character development here. Skål!

Summary: Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive… she may have to learn to trust him again.

Masterlist

You Forfeit All Right to My Heart

Freydis received a, truthfully, rather horrible shock in her opinion. Everyone had seen how badly putting her and Ivar in the same room had gone. But, Professor Andersen had come to speak with her, and asked her what had happened, why their reunion had gone so wrong.

She’d told him the truth, told him how history had been inaccurate, and the man had simply watched her in shock. If the two were to be a team, they were going to need to learn how to better get along with each other. So far, it didn’t seem that would happen, even if they were made to talk to each other again.

Freydis had said that if she were put in a room with Ivar again, locked in with him, she’d just find a way out. This was what she’d meant when she thought giving a prisoner powers would backfire. They couldn’t control her, and they knew it. Her power was growing every day.

A plan had to be devised, then, to bring Freydis and Ivar together. They couldn't be left to figure things out slowly, over time. The whole purpose in choosing two people who had been married before they died was that they'd already be a perfect team. They weren't meant to choose a couple who had fallen apart in the final years of one's life!

But, as Freydis told Professor Andersen, when he had expressed this to her, fate had a funny way of making things more difficult for those who were determined to outwit it. It wasn't that, in her belief, this couldn't be done. It was simply that one would have to fight harder if that was what they wanted to do. And even so, how could one be sure that wasn't their fate after all? To overcome what they believed to be their fate?

Professor Andersen had simply been more confused by what she said, but after discussing this with Dr. Schmidt, who then talked to the doctors and scientists in charge of Ivar, he had been tasked with the role of coming up with a way to bring Freydis and Ivar together. He'd considered putting them in a perilous situation together, so they would have to work together to survive, but he knew how that would turn out from the conversation the two had had before. Ivar would sacrifice his life to let Freydis live, she'd let him, angry as she was, and they'd be done. No team there if half the team is dead.

That didn't mean he hadn't come up with something he thought was brilliant, though. No, in fact, he had come up with something that he was sure would work. His plan had required new technology to be developed, technology that would be able to restrain the magic that now ran through Freydis's veins, and eventually, they'd come up with something.

It was a space in which she couldn't use her powers. Ivar wouldn't hurt her (again) they didn't expect, so it wasn't as though she would need those powers. Besides, security would have access to the room at all times. If he did try to hurt her somehow, for any reason, they could step in.

So, that was how Freydis found herself being offered a new space to live in, being told it would be much more comfortable. When they took her in and she saw Ivar, she'd tried to escape as fast as a cat being put in the bath. Finding that her powers didn't work sent a shock of fear through her, and very little to do was made before the door was shut, locked from outside, and she was left in there with Ivar.

The plan Professor Andersen had concocted was to force the pair to learn to live with each other, as now it was almost guaranteed Freydis wouldn't be able to kill Ivar with a flick of her wrist. With a weapon, sure, but that would be when security would step in before she could.

A thick silence filled the room as they stood and watched each other. The shock of Ivar being alive had worn off for her, the shock of being in the same vicinity as him, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about any of this, or let him off easily. Instead of trying to make peace with him, she crossed her arms, looked over him once, and said, "Your legs work now."

She seemed almost skeptical, and it brought an honest chuckle out of Ivar when he heard that. "They work," he confirmed, nodding a little. "The technology is quite impressive here, you see. Better than anything we had in Kattegat."

Freydis cocked a brow for a moment. "I would still prefer to be in Kattegat," she said sharply.

"As would I," Ivar said. "But we are here."

"We wouldn't have to be here if you hadn't killed me," she now snarled.

Ivar sighed. "Are we going to spend all of our time going over that?" he questioned. "Yes, I killed you, because you betrayed me to my brothers. Would you have preferred I let you be put on trial before our people? Found guilty of treason and executed in front of them? I was saving you the humiliation."

"You lost! If you had waited to see what happened, you'd have seen I didn't have to die!" she snapped. "That is the problem with you! You never believe you can lose, do you? Everything you do must be successful, because you have the favor of the Gods! Do you realize not everything good comes to those with their favor, but sometimes you fail because it is their will regardless of what their favor is?"

Ivar chuckled bitterly, shaking his head and leaning against the wall. He crossed his arms, and Freydis glared. "I know I cannot win everything," he said. "I learned that when my campaign with the Rus in Scandinavia was crushed by my brother. I learned that when you betrayed me. When our son- no, your son- was born how he was, and I realized I would never have a family of my own."

"Perhaps you could have if you hadn't left him out to die," she countered, and he began to laugh, leaning his head back.

"Or perhaps if he had truly been my son!" Freydis opened her mouth to protest, but Ivar cut her off before she could. "Do not lie to me and tell me he was, we both know the truth! I could not have children. Not when I was with you. We could not have had a child together. Whatever you told me, about how you conceived that child, was a lie, I know that now. Because if he had been mine, it would have meant I was a God, but I know that cannot have been true because of the way he was born!"

Freydis glared at him harshly, in the sort of way he recognized as her anger cooling off. Which, in all truth, was worse than when it was hot. When it was cold, she was giving up the argument.

"I did it for you," she hissed. "I wanted you to have a family, and an heir."

Ivar blinked as he looked at her then, the cold, harsh anger in her eyes. When he realized Baldur could not have been his son, his mind had immediately pictured the worst. He'd pictured Freydis in love with some other man, carrying a child she could not confess was his because she had married Ivar the Boneless. If he had discovered the identity of the child's father, had even learned it wasn't his, they both knew his temper. He might have killed someone for it- certainly would have if he'd found the child's father.

But the way she spoke now, it almost seemed as though she hated what she had done. Perhaps there was guilt, perhaps disgust, he couldn't say. But he knew who could, he knew that Freydis could say what she felt about what she'd done. Freydis could also say what she had done.

His anger seemed to subside out of almost nowhere, and he looked at her with a cool, curious expression. "And what did you do, hm?" he asked. "You seem upset about what you did, and that is why you are angry with me for being angry with you over it. Is that right? Or am I wrong, and you are angry for another reason? Aside from the death of your son, and your own death, I know those things already." He waved a dismissive hand, to keep her from bringing it up again.

Freydis huffed, crossing her arms and turning away from him. "If you must know," she began. "I killed him. Baldur's biological father. He was one of the slaves we had. As soon as I knew I was with child, I had him killed. The official story I gave for wanting it was that he had behaved inappropriately with me. It was not questioned. Who would question it? I was the Queen. If I said it was true, it was true." Her eyes swam with some expression he couldn't quite understand, but if he had to guess, it was a mixture of guilt, and pain. "I never even asked his name. He probably had family. I don't even know he was a slave- for all I know, he was a servant in our house, and he had a wife and a family, children of his own."

She swallowed hard, and looked back at Ivar. "I was not a killer before I met you," she said. "I told you I would do whatever you wanted me to do, whatever you asked of me. I told you I would do anything for you, and it was true, what I told you. You wanted an heir, even if you believed you could not have one, so I concocted a plan to give you one. And whether you want to believe it or not, he was your son. You were with me through every day I carried him. You were there when I birthed him. You held him. And you killed him."

Her voice cracked under the emotion she felt at her last words, and Ivar's jaw clenched. He swallowed hard and his eyes fell to the ground. Somehow, Freydis was pleased to see he still had the same tells when he felt guilty. The truth was out, and he knew now why she was angry whenever he just cast aside what she had done to give him a son.

Because, the truth was, Baldur had been his son, in all but carrying his DNA. (Ivar had only recently learned about DNA, but he decided just then he would have to see if people took care of children now who were not theirs by birth.) Everything Freydis said about that was true. He distanced himself from what he'd done by claiming the boy hadn't been his, by distancing himself from the child himself, because perhaps he wouldn't hate himself for what he'd done if it was just some poor man's son.

Sometimes, Ivar thought back to that night. Especially after seeing Freydis here again, after their confrontation, he found himself unable to stop thinking about that night. He still believed what he told Baldur, the reasons he had left him, but he wondered if Freydis had ever known why he'd done it. Regardless of what she had known before, he decided she was going to know now.

With a great sigh, he began to speak.

"I couldn't let him suffer how I had suffered all my life," he said. "Even if it would only be a few days, I could not let him endure such a thing."

Freydis looked up at him, her brows drawn tightly together as she considered what he'd just said. He couldn't meet her eyes, couldn't handle seeing the devastation he imagined in her as she relived this nightmare. He was certainly reliving it, he knew that much.

But, not looking at her, he couldn't see how tightly her arms were wrapped around herself, the pain that seemed to radiate from her. Well, no, that he could feel. It was thick in the air, just as the silence had been when they'd first been left alone. He hated it.

After quite some time, Freydis finally said, "He should have been at home with us." He didn't need to look to hear that tears were now leaking from her eyes. Ivar knew her voice better than anyone's- perhaps even better than his own mother's, by now. But he owed it to her, to face what he'd done to her, so he finally looked up, and met her eyes.

It was so much worse than he could have imagined. He didn't know when she'd started crying, but the tears that rolled down her cheeks, just as he predicted, were clearly not the first she'd shed in this conversation. She looked so much worse than devastated, she looked desperate, and all he could say was, "He should have been."

When all had been said and done, and Ivar found himself in Kievan Rus without his wife or son, he had thought often about how Baldur's life had ended. When he was dying himself, lying there and looking up at Hvitserk, he realized how much worse it would have been to have died alone, the way Baldur had. Everything had fallen into place in that moment, so many moments too late.

Shock registered then on Freydis's face, or rather a more mild sort of surprise at his confession. No part of the woman had ever expected Ivar to admit he was wrong about something, and yet here they were.

She gave a curt nod, and wiped the tears from her face. "Then we agree on something," she allowed, and walked into the kitchen the pair had been provided with. Ivar watched her go silently, and swallowed hard.

Perhaps this was going be the beginning of healing. Or, perhaps at least the beginning of a peaceful coexistence. Whatever it was, he knew he couldn't take the screaming again and again. He was a strong man in his former life, was stronger now, but he wondered if any man had been strong enough to see the woman he loved in that sort of pain so frequently. He couldn't.

Neither of them ate that night, despite Freydis having gone into the kitchen at one point. She’d looked around rather aimlessly, but found her appetite was rather nonexistent after their conversation. Ivar’s was as well, and so silence reigned in the little apartment until night fell.

It wasn’t a very comfortable silence. The air in the room was tense still, and when night fell, they stood together in the doorway of their new room. The apartment was only built for one couple, and so there was one bedroom, with one bed. Freydis turned to look over Ivar again, and then the bed.

“Your legs are healed,” she said. “You can sleep on the floor or the couch.”

Ivar grimaced a bit, but watched her go into the room. She turned around and looked at him as he stood in the doorway. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say, and she waited just a moment to let him, but when he didn’t, she grabbed the door, and moved it so that she was about to close it. Ivar swallowed as he looked down at her.

“Goodnight, Ivar,” she said. Her voice wasn’t unkind, but her words were final.

He took a step back, and replied, “Goodnight, Freydis,” before watching her close the door.

Ivar sighed quietly and went to the couch, laying down and getting himself comfortable- well, as comfortable as he could be. The couch wasn’t exactly great. He missed Freydis, and she was right there. He wanted to be with her, but she wasn’t open to it. But, they had managed to exist in the same space without fighting for some of the day. Maybe that was a sign that things were getting better. If they could get used to living together, maybe they could heal.

It was a start, if nothing else, and a start was better than nothing. It meant there was hope.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @zuzus-sun, @heavenly1927, @punkrocknpearls, @pomegranates-and-blood

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#ivar the boneless #vikings #ivar ragnarsson #alex hogh andersen #history channel vikings #ivar's heathen army #vikings history #can you imagine?#chapter five #ivar x freydis #freydis #queen freydis #ivar #freyvar

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

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Motion Sickness Chapter 68

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It was one of those old crush dreams. And I could tell it was a dream. It had Weiss in it and she was wearing her old Beacon era outfit so I knew it was fake. That it wasn't real. It put the dream in that odd category of semi-lucid.

I was dealing with the Boarbatusk in Ports's old classroom. I was using my old sword. I felt small as I fought it.

"Save that kid!" Weiss shouted down at me. It was disorientating like she was shouting through molasses. "Jaune, save him."

I turned away from where she was alone in the seats calling to me. There was this kid down in the pit with me. I couldn't make out his face. It was that kind of dream. Colors blurred and I slew the professor's Boarbatusk.

Instead of dissolving into ash it turned into a matted mess of worms and centipedes. They overran the kid who called out something as a centipede slid over his wrists and locked tight.

I took a step forward but my legs got wrapped up by one of the Grimm worms. It wrapped over my flesh and the slime it left behind stung me.

A centipede wrapped around both my wrists and locked tight. It looked at me. It made a smug, Grimm face at me.

I tried to scream as the bugs ran over my body.

I woke up trying to scream but it only came out as a meek groan. I couldn't move and my wrists and legs still burned where the bugs had touched me.

I was awake enough to know what I was going through. Sleep paralysis, they called it. I drooled on myself a little and couldn't shut my mouth as I lay in the cot they'd stuck me in.

I waited and eventually I was able to move again. I sat up. An orderly came by in the hospital. They had to check on us every thirty minutes just in case one of us tried to commit suicide. That was the kind of ward I was stuck in. It seriously sucked.

I stood up, tired of being watched from the doorway when the nurses came by. They hadn't taken my armor or my huntsman clothes. That told me that they wanted me comfortable. Just so long as I wasn't dangerous.

I was still dangerous. I had my gods damn semblance. Nothing could take that from me.

I striped the clothes off and hung it all next to the sink as I stepped into the in suite shower and washed myself down. I felt fucking disgusting and my dream had left me shaking. My wrists and legs burned still.

Sleep didn't even hit the same anymore.

I couldn't trust it. I couldn't trust in my mind while I rested. I wasn't allowed to rest. It fucking sucked. Plus they took my weed from me and I hadn't had the chance to talk to a doctor who could prescribe something real for me.

All I had was reality. Cold and sober even in the hot shower. At least Neo could bust me out anytime I wanted, basically. They'd taken my scroll too so I couldn't call her but she'd be around. I might just take her up on it, too.

They had me locked in this place. This hospital had us under watch from the doorways at all times even through the night so my rest wouldn't have been restful even if I didn't have the nightmares.

I scrubbed at my eyes hard and thought about the people I was doing this for. Ruby. Weiss. Yang. Blake. My old friends. I had to give this a try otherwise I was a coward. Otherwise I wanted to be sick.

I picked at the inside of my ear as I stood in the shower. I could feel things crawling around beneath my skin. The shower water pounded against the ground and with it came the whispering sound of Mother's voice.

“Come to me… lend me your strength…”

I shuddered.

“I have a favor to ask you, child. Run. Run away.”

I wanted to slam my head into the shower tile wall. I hosed myself off with the little soaps they'd provided me and tried to relax as best as I could. It wasn't working so great. I wanted to hurt myself. I wanted to smoke. I wanted to die. I wanted to see my friends.

My feelings were all bottled and mixed up into a hue of utter nothingness.

It was still fairly late and I was sure I wouldn't get any more sleep tonight. Nothing good would happen to my thoughts if I did. That was when she got me. While I was sleeping I was vulnerable to her.

I was so fucking unsafe and had been for a long time. A month or more. Ever since that day I'd murdered my own friends nothing had gone my way. The things I'd learned about myself only dragged me down.

I hated it. I hated being alive. For the thousandth time I cursed Merlot who'd doomed me to this existence without a care in the world. My creator… I would make him pay. He would suffer for bringing me into this world and dooming me to be tortured so. I could feel her fingers on the surface of my mind.

They were surgical and touched me so gently but they were there, digging deep into my thoughts like tentacles. It would feel so good to give in to them. It could be everything I ever wanted.

"Mr. Arc? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I called out to the nurse outside of the bathroom. "I'm the same as I've always been," I whispered in a quieter tone.

I could get through this. I was a hunter damnit. That meant something to me.

Does it?

The voice questioning me was my own. And it had a good point. All my dreams about being a hunter were fake. It was as fake as my name. It was given to me by an alien goddess.

She was working her way into me. She was breaking me down. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep it up. It felt like water against a rock. Eventually it would erode. Except the rock was my mind. It was my psyche pit against hers.

"Can I get you anything Mr. Arc?"

"Something to help me relax and sleep?" I asked back.

"Just a moment." The male nurse walked away. He came back and placed a pill on a counter. "It's Clonazepam, just let it dissolve under your tongue. It should help with anxiety and sleep."

"Thanks," I breathed.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I savored the rough feel of the towel against my skin. The cloth was low quality and boy it felt good. I took the pill and let it dissolve under my tongue. It was incredibly sweet to the taste. I swallowed.

I immediately felt a little more relaxed but it was a bit more relaxed about being mind raped. There was only so much the drugs could do, surely. I was in it for real and I was in deep.

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"So tell me about what brings you in here Mr. Arc." My counselor was a woman. Middling height with brown hair and green eyes. She looked trustworthy. A strong jaw and high cheek bones made her classically good looking, too. She was maybe fifty, maybe a bit older. She didn’t have the good looks of a hunter, though.

Dr. Caulbaugh was her name. And after a short introduction I was supposed to share with her my deepest darkest secrets. It was necessary for this thing to work.

"The general didn't tell you anything?" I asked. We were locked alone in a room. If I so chose I could rip her in half. Probably not a good sign that I was thinking like that. But I was.

"No, he didn't. It's up to you what you share with me. But the more honest you can be the better we can make things for you." She smiled at me and picked a pen at the corner of her mouth. An actual pen as opposed to a data pad.

"And you work with hunters?" I asked.

"Primarily. My background is in trauma victims. The overlap, I think, would surprise you."

“Not really.” As far as trauma went hunters had to be up there. Between killing people and watching their friends die day in and day out there was a lot of trauma to be had. I maybe knew a thing or two about that. I nodded and flushed out my half cape in the chair. I swept it behind me."That's why you lot let me keep my armor and clothes."

"Hunters are more comfortable in their wear. And armor isn't exactly a threat." She smiled again, trying to disarm me. That's the real reason she let me keep my cloak, armor, and clothes. That's the real reason I wasn't in a gown.

I kept nodding anyway.

"Please, tell me about yourself, Mr. Arc."

"My father was a test tube and my 'mother,'" I gave the word quotation marks. "Was an incubator. I was created in a laboratory by a scientist named Merlot from the genetic material of a woman named Salem. My other mother."

"You're serious?" Her jaw dropped a little. It shouldn't have been outside the range of possibility. Especially in a technophilic place like Atlas.

I nodded again.

"Okay." She started writing.

"I'm biologically twenty but I'm chronological three or four."

"Oh my gods." She swore a little. She seemed a little shocked. I had been too, though. So there was that.

"Yeah. I joined Beacon academy when I was 'seventeen.' I was there when the academy went down. My partner was killed in the action. Her name was Pyrrha."

"Okay." She murmured scrawling at her clipboard.

"I killed for the first time maybe nine months after that. I just ripped this bandit in half."

"How many people have you killed?"

"I've lost count. Maybe a hundred. Maybe more," I confessed. "A lot of people."

"Okay. Alright." She kept writing frantically. "You're very young to have such a high body count."

"You've met other four year olds with a higher body count than me?" I laughed.

"N-no." She mumbled. She picked the pen at the corner of her mouth. A nervous habit, maybe.

"Sorry. Bad joke."

"No, please go on."

"I was there when Haven was attacked. A month ago or so. Not sure if you heard about it."

"I hadn't…"

"I'm sure some details are classified. But while I was there my Mother, Salem took control over my mind. She made me kill two of my friends."

"You mean, like with a semblance?"

"Kinda," I shrugged. "I bet details about my Mother are classified above top secret. I'm sure I can't share much with you."

"That's alright."

"And ever since then I've had tactile, visual, and auditory hallucinations. I hear her voice. I see shadows. I feel bugs crawling around in my face and in my eyes."

"I see. I see. Then what happened after Haven?"

"I found my 'father's' laboratory. That's where I learned the truth about me. I had fake memories, you see. Then I came here."

"From Mistral?"

"I snuck into the country. Report me."

"I'm not going to report you."

"I was so worried you would," I said facetiously. "So what do you think, doc? Do I have PTSD?"

"Almost certainly," she was still writing very quickly. "Mr. Arc you have quite the tale to tell."

"Do I make your list of top ten weirdest patients or what?"

"You just might." She laughed. "Have you ever tried to take your own life?"

"Just after I killed my friends at Haven I tried to kill myself."

"What happened?"

"Couldn't focus. My aura wouldn't let me." I squeezed a fist as I recalled the memory. I inhaled deeply and tried to relax like I was about to try it again now.

"I see. I want to run through some mood scales with you. Is that alright?"

"Sure." I shrugged. I had no idea what those were.

"Now I want you to tell me if you've experienced these things over the past month. If you've experienced it all of the days, most of the days, half of the days, a few of the days, or none of the days."

"Shoot."

"Feeling down, depressed or hopeless?" She asked.

"All of the days."

"Feeling like a failure, like you've let yourself down?" She went on.

"All of the days. My father classified me as a failure of an experiment, even."

"Feeling like you'd be better off dead or having thoughts of hurting yourself?" She was unrelenting.

"All of the days."

"Poor appetite or the reverse, over eating?"

"A few of the days."

"Poor sleep or the opposite, getting too much sleep?"

"All of the days."

"Which one?"

"I have nightmares from Mother. I can't sleep. I'm even afraid of sleeping. She gets me while I sleep."

She wrote notes on her clipboard. "How have you been sleeping since you arrived?"

"Poorly."

"Okay, I'll prescribe you something for that. Next scale. Moving too slow, to the point someone would have noticed or the opposite, being more fidgety than usual?"

"None of the days."

"Fear or worrying about a great many subjects?"

"All of the days."

"Well Mr. Arc…"

"What? Never had a mind controlled patient before?"

"I can't say that I have. It seems to me you don't believe I'll be able to treat you."

"That's because I'm not actually crazy. I have someone else in my head."

"I don't think you're crazy Mr. Arc. That's not what PTSD is. I'm going to get you started on some of our atypical antipsychotics. They'll help stabilize your mood and you should notice the effects immediately."

"Which one?"

"It's called Asenapine. Have you heard of it?" She asked.

"No." I shook my head. I hadn't heard of any of the medications. I was no expert. My brain was in this woman's hands. I had to just trust her.

"Well it should help stabilize you. I want to run a genetics test on you to see which medications you'll respond best to in the meantime."

"I'm willing to bet my genetics are classified."

"Because of your origin?"

"Yeah. Because of my creation."

"Well I'll see about getting through on those. In the meantime I'm keeping you on Clonazepam and Asenapine."

"And you think that'll help?"

"Well it's not an exact science but we should be able to find a medication combination that works for you," she returned.

"We'll see, doc. I'm told you're who I should talk to about being released. About getting my weapon back, too."

"You hunters are all about getting your weapons. You're not ready to leave here, Mr. Arc. I'm putting you in for a three day hold."

"Three days?"

"Three days minimum. It's my professional opinion that you need serious help. You don't need a weapon in your hands right now."

"I could be doing real serious good. I could be saving lives."

"You could also be taking them."

"That's the job. That's what hunters are for. Let alone what I am for. I was made to kill people. I think. I’m not sure."

"You mentioned your friends. What were their names?"

"Ren and Nora." She looked over her board at me, looking deadly serious.

"Unless you want there to be more like that you'll remain calm and go through the therapies I recommend."

"Very well."

"You still seem doubtful. That sort of obstinacy is counter productive to your treatment. A large part of it is your belief."

"I'm being mind controlled. There's no cure for that. And the things I am? Where I came from? That shit's permanent."

"This mind control event is where your psychosis started? It's why you resorted to marijuana?"

"Maybe. There might have been psychosis before.."

"Then let us help you Mr. Arc. This isn't forever. You'll be back out in the field. It's my firm belief that your stay here is temporary. Have faith in the treatments. I think we can make some serious progress with your psychosis."

"I agreed to this in the first place."

"Then have faith. You're not doomed, Mr. Arc."

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

#rwby #ff7 #ffvii #motion sickness #white rose #whiterose #white knight #whiteknight #lancaster #war of the roses #jaune arc #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee #cloud strife #cloud!jaune arc #sephiroth!jaune arc

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sunlightdances · 4 years

Text

Through Lines (40′s!Bucky x Reader)

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Nurse!Reader Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for war-typical violence and descriptions of PTSD. Summary: WW2 canon-divergent AU - Bucky lives. One of the things Bucky thinks about when he’s trapped in a foxhole and trying to stay alive is the pretty nurse from the Red Cross. Author’s Note: I re-watched Band of Brothers recently, so this popped into my head. Please excuse any inaccuracies/suspend your belief briefly - I did my best with a bit of research, but obviously some of this is OOC/not canon. I don’t own Bucky or Marvel (or the character cameo who is clearly from HBO War). Please don’t re-post anywhere without my permission!

You meet James Barnes for the first time while you’re packing a Red Cross truck in England, hair neatly curled and pinned, lips painted a fiery shade of red.

It’s easy, then, for you to flash him a smile as he removes his garrison cap, tucking it neatly into his waistband as he approaches you.

“Ma’am,” he greets, and even though you think he’s about the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, you still bristle a bit.

“It’s Lieutenant.” You say, returning to your work. You know he likely didn’t mean anything by it, but ever since you shipped out, you’ve found yourself defending your rank and training more than once.

He clears his throat. “Lieutenant,” he corrects himself, and even salutes you. It surprises you. You return his gesture. “Just wanted to see if you needed a hand.”

You falter, and smile gently at him. “I’m sorry for snapping. It’s been a long day.”

“Moving out tomorrow?”

You nod. “To France, to one of the field hospitals.” You can see the concern in his eyes, and it makes you roll yours. “We’re trained just as you are, Sergeant. The men need help.”

He puts his hands in his pockets. “They’ll be happy to see you, no doubt.” He rocks on his feet. You realize how young he is, how young you both are.

The next time the two of you see each other, it’s nowhere near as formal, or casual.

The sunshine of that day in England is a distant memory compared to this. It��s raining and the sound of shelling not far off has you gritting your teeth.

The flap of the tent flies open with a rush of noise — a familiar voice and steel blue eyes that you both hoped you’d see again, and prayed you never would. He’s with a medic, a stretcher between them.

“Here—“ you say before he even opens his mouth. “Put him here.”

The medic is rattling off information - shrapnel to the stomach and leg, given morphine.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you bark, snapping him out of his daze. “If you’re not going to help, then you need to get out of the way.”

He moves so you can get to work, but stays close, and you notice with a jolt when he takes the hand of the man you’re working on, squeezing gently.

He doesn’t make it.

You’re so frustrated you can barely speak. Every time you lose someone, it’s a burning ache that settles deep in your heart. No matter how bad off they are when they come to the hospital, you feel the guilt of not being able to do your job.

“You did everything you could.” He says next to you, outside the tent, cigarette dangling from his lips.

You don’t reply. There’s nothing to say. You won’t cry - you can’t allow yourself to cry. If you break down now, you might never get your composure back.

The shelling begins again, and a jeep pulls up nearby, someone shouting for Sergeant Barnes. You try not to notice the way his hand starts to shake as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the ground and stamping it out before he goes.

“Take care of yourself,” he murmurs, and then with a weak salute, he’s gone.

Bucky Barnes is a romantic at heart. He pictured seeing you again back at some pub in England on leave, in his dress uniform, you in a red dress. When he was at his darkest point, he pictured it, and that’s why it’s so unfair that he’s seeing you again now, like this.

It’s been six months. France, and then Belgium, and then Italy, and whatever hell came after that. He’s grateful he doesn’t remember the entire thing. Azzano was like nothing he ever thought could happen to him - something from a science fiction novel.

His unit is completely gone. Every one of the men he trained with, fought with, shared a foxhole with… they’re all gone.

Steve is here now, something that should make him relieved, but all it does is add to his never-ending bad mood. His best friend, his brother, literally charging into harm’s way every chance he gets. Except now it’s not just back alley fist fights. There are bullets and fire and mortars, and Bucky doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

It’s bad enough that they’re hot on Hydra’s trail - a shiver ripples up his spine every time he sees the insignia - but the original Nazis are still everywhere. The German army is tough, and everywhere he goes it’s pure destruction.

They’ve been called in to support another Division, and Bucky is relieved for the tasks of a new squad to take his mind off everything. Being a platoon sergeant comes natural to him, and he looks after the replacements like he did his last group. It gives him something to keep busy.

Until they get to the Ardennes.

It’s hell on earth. The trees are sawed in half by shelling every night, the shrapnel alone enough to kill someone who isn’t hit directly.

It’s colder than anything he’s ever felt, and they lose more and more of the line between them and the enemy every day.

The field hospital is barely a field hospital. It’s in a partially bombed out church, and Bucky spares a thought that he hopes to hell you aren’t here, because he can’t stomach it. Of course his instincts prove to be right.

He drives one of the medics to try to scrounge up some supplies, and when he steps inside, your voice is the first one he hears. It’s chaos in there, and he’s surprised by the number of soldiers in beds, on chairs, or just laying on the floor.

His eyes fall on you and it’s like he can finally breathe again, though his relief is replaced by worry when you meet his eyes. He barely recognizes the look on your face. He sees the recognition when you first spot him, the barely there softening of your gaze, but he doesn’t recognize the rest.

You’ve lost weight. Everyone has, but it’s stark in the way your cheekbones jut out slightly, and the way your uniform hangs on you.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you say, your voice lacking it’s usual enthusiasm. He understands. Nothing seems important anymore, nothing seems worth getting excited for. All there is, is survival.

“Lieutenant,” he says softly, giving a brief salute.

“Nurse!” A call is coming from the other side of the church, and you glance away from Bucky briefly. He wants to grab your hand, your arm, anything to keep you from heading back into the fray.

“Are you hurt?” You ask him, looking him over. He finds he’s not sure how to answer. Physically, no. But in his head? The nightmares are atrocious. The headaches-- and on top of all that, he has no idea what that Hydra scientist actually did to him.

“No,” he replies carefully. “Came to beg for any bandages and plasma you have for our medic.”

You frown. “There isn’t much. I have to see this patient, but wait here.”

He watches you go, watches the slight limp to your gait, and he finds himself clenching his fist when he hears a doctor order you around.

A few minutes later you’re back with a small box. “This is all we can spare.”

“It’ll do us good. Thank you.” He doesn’t want to leave. “What a pair we make, hey?”

You meet his eyes, untrusting. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You need to get some rest,” he counters.

“There’s too much to do.”

He knows he has to leave. He needs to get back to his unit. He wishes this were another time, another place… that he could have met you back in Brooklyn.

“Be safe.” His voice is rough, and he hates himself for it, because he barely knows you. He doesn’t know why he feels so connected to you. You’re beautiful, of course you are, but for all he knows, you have someone back home, wherever that is.

“You too, James.”

The use of his first name floors him, not just because it’s so personal, but because he can’t remember the last time someone called him by his name.

“Barnes!” A shout from the door from an agitated soldier and another shout for you by the doctor, and you’re both pulled in separate directions.

The jeep is halfway back to the line when he hears the first shell. He forces his eyes shut and takes a deep breath to try to steady himself.

It’s not until he’s shoulder to shoulder with Steve again that he allows himself to think of you briefly before he’s forced to fight again.

Always fighting.

They move out two days later.

He’s never been so happy to get out of the woods. The high spirits of the rest of the men are contagious, and he finds himself nearly grinning ear to ear as they make their way slowly down the road, the hellish cold of the night before long forgotten in the new day’s sun.

The jeeps roll to a stop and there’s a long while before they get moving again. At some point, Steve had climbed out and headed up the line to see what the hold up was.

When he gets back, he hauls himself inside, and Bucky eyes the spot where he grips the door, the spot slightly dented by his strength. He’ll never get used to it, but in the moment he’s less worried about that, and more worried about the thing he does recognize - the crease in between Steve’s brows.

“What’s wrong.”

Steve waits. When he speaks, his voice is low. “The field hospital was bombed during the shelling.”

Bucky’s entire body goes cold. Steve seems to understand, and the two of them make their way to the front of the unit on foot. When they get to the hospital, there’s a few members of the 101st Airborne milling around, the medic from Easy picking through the rubble.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say. His knees feel weak. He wants to demand answers, wants to ask what happened, but it’s a stupid question.

He feels sick. They bombed a hospital.

“Did anyone--” Bucky starts, pausing to clear his throat, “Casualties?”

The medic meets his eyes. “A few nurses and a couple patients made it out. They’re being sent back to England.”

“Buck, we have to go.” Steve says somberly, apologetically.

Bucky doesn’t say anything. He can’t breathe.

It’ll be months before he finds out what happened to you.

You don’t sleep much, anymore.

The War is over, but in so many ways, you feel like you’re still in it. Your dreams are filled with explosions and screams, and during the day, you’re forced to pretend that everything is normal, when in reality, nothing will ever be the same.

There’s a large scar on your right arm. The limp you picked up in Bastogne lingers, and is worse when the weather is cold.

You’re trying to be “normal” but can’t understand what your purpose is. After everything you’ve seen, you can’t stand to just be content to go to parties and luncheons and listen to your mother talk about marriage. It feels so trivial.

The only person you’ve talked about the War with is your father. You don’t allow yourself to get emotional, but you make it clear to him how close you came to dying. How close to the front lines you were for months.

Your friends talk about the Red Cross nurses like the whole thing was one big party - dressing up and flirting with soldiers, bringing them coffee and enjoying a European vacation. Maybe it was that way for some, but for you and the women you served closely with, it was a nightmare.

Still, you don’t regret it. You wanted to do your part, and you did more than that.

On your way to your office job, a car backfires on the street, and you jump, stumbling slightly as instinct takes over. You feel embarrassed when you remember where you are, but then there’s a hand at your elbow and gentle eyes assessing you.

“Are you okay, miss?” He looks familiar, but you can’t place him.

“Fine, fine. Sorry, I--”

“It’s okay. It startled me too.” He says, and when you meet his gaze evenly, you recognize the look there. After a moment, you recognize the face, too.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. Your heart starts to speed up, not because you’re starstruck, but because of the possibility that he’s here too. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t thought of James Barnes since you’ve been home, wondering about him.

You’ve seen the newsreels enough to know he and the Commandos made it home, thanks to Steve saving James’ life on one of their final missions.

“Steve, we haven’t got all day, we have to--” His voice interrupts your thoughts, and when you finally see him, he’s gone pale, eyes as sharp as you remember, though there’s more shadows under his eyes than you’d like to see.

He says your name on a low exhale, but it’s a question, like he can’t believe you’re here.

“Sergeant,” you reply, a smile growing on your face, and before you can object, Steve is making some excuse about ducking into the shop you’re in front of, and then James is right in front of you.

“It’s Bucky,” he corrects you gently. “My friends call me Bucky.”

“Is that what we are?”

He’s so close you can see the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. “I thought you were dead.”

You’re used to lying to everyone about what happened to you; trying to make it more palatable for those who thought you just handed out coffee and raised soldiers’ spirits. It’s refreshing to be able to tell him the truth.

“I almost was. We were almost evacuated when the bomb hit. There were still patients and nurses in the church--” You stop yourself, feeling short of breath.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

You look down at your feet, feeling awkward. You don’t know what else to say. It’s suddenly dawning on you that you don’t really know him at all. Except when you look back up at him - you can see the kindness and understanding in his eyes. The connection is there too; the one that kept you thinking of each other and seeing each other again again against all odds.

“I’m glad to see you.” You tell him honestly.

The smile that slowly grows on his face is so charming. “I’m very glad to see you too, Lieutenant.”

Despite yourself, you roll your eyes, a smile of your own on your lips. “I think we can drop the formalities.”

His eyes are intense as he takes a step closer, “Let me take you to dinner.” He takes a deep breath, “This is probably too much, but you were one of the only things to get me through the last two years. I saw you once, and I was done for, sweetheart...” He trails off, shrugging.

“You think you’re pretty cute, don’t you, Sergeant?”

“He does, so please take pity on him and go to dinner with him,” Steve’s voice interrupts, “He hasn’t stopped talking about you since I met up with him in Italy.”

You look back at the dark-haired man fidgeting next to you, rolling his eyes at his friend, and for the first time since you came home, you feel like there might be something to look forward to.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

Key: 🤍 Fluff | 💜 Angsty Fluff | 💛 Smut (no minors) | 🧣 Taylor Swift Inspired

🤍 🧣 Forever Is the Sweetest Con: After a successful case, which is hard to come by the BAU, the team (season 3 team) celebrates with drinks at the bar. things go arise when Penelope convinces a normally reserved y/n to sing karaoke.

🤍 Sweet Valentine: a 22 year old spencer reid finds himself thinking about his firsts…and the one first that he has yet to accomplish

🤍 Cutie Pi: Spencer Reid’s second favorite holiday isn’t really a holiday, but it’s sure a day that he’ll never forget

🤍🧣 You Kiss My Face and We're Both Drunk: Who would have figured that a normally serious genius with an eidetic memory would be a silly, forgetful drunk, or drunk Spencer realizes how much he loves Y/N.

🤍 49%: If there’s one thing that Spencer hates more than rejection, it’s spontaneity. But sometimes the things (and people) we love outweigh the things that we hate.

🤍 I'll Take X-Pecting for 200, Alex: Dr. Spencer Reid plays a trivia game at the request of his wife, Y/N, but he’s in for more than some heaving hitting questions

🤍🧣 Take My Hand and Drag Me Head First: Spencer Reid is a scientists and scientists love predictability; but love isn’t predictable, it’s fearless.

🤍 🧣 Wrap Your Arms Around Me, Baby Boy: Sometimes love at first just might be the thing that’ll make you want to get married with paper rings.

🤍🧣 I Can't Help It If You Look Like An Angel: Spencer is not that kind of doctor, but he’ll always come when Y/N needs him, even if germs are involved.

🤍🧣 Las Vegas Boy: Y/N surprises Spencer at their joint Bachelor/ Bachelorette Party with a song she’s been working on.

💜🧣 Band Aids Don't Fix Bullet Holes: In a standoff with an unsub, reader makes a choice: her life or Spencer’s.

💜 French Toast Waffle Sundays: Coming home to Reader from a stressful case, Spencer needs a little reassurance that he’s as wonderful as Reader thinks he is.

💜 Open Me Carefully: Reader finds her hopelessly in love with Spencer, who unfortunately for them is hopeless when it comes to love

💜 🧣 The Moment I Knew My Future Was Sweet: Spencer plans a surprise birthday party for reader, who comes to the realization that Spencer is the one who’s always been there for her

💜 Crawl Home To Her: The only thing that’s keeping Spencer alive is the memories of his heaven. Maybe somehow how a faithless man will escape death’s grasp on faith alone

💜 You Die in My Nightmares, But I'm Dying to Dance With You in My Dreams: Tired of being tired, reader takes leap instead of counting sheep

💜🧣 And I Will Hold On To You: They’ve never been apart for holidays since they started dating. That was until Spencer Reid found himself behind bars for a crime he’d never think of committing. Growing and healing, Spencer realizes that it’s not the holidays that matter, it’s the person. Because with that special person, who’s laugh he can recognize anywhere, even cleaning up the empty bottle the next morning is magical.

💜 🧣Though I Can't Recall Your Face, I Still Got Love For You: Spencer’s always been ambivalent about his birthday, but self proclaimed lover of birthday’s Y/N attempts to change that.

💜🧣 Can't Say Anything To Your Face: Lunchtime is Spencer Reid’s favorite time of day and not because of the crappy endless coffee, dry sandwiches, or the occasional chocolate donut. Spencer’s favorite time of day comes in the shape of a little post it notes and fits perfectly into his heart.

💜🧣 Right Where You Left Me: Y/N never expected to see him again. He tore her heart out and left her in the dusty heat of a Las Vegas diner. She never wanted to see him again, but sometimes the heart wants what heart wants.

💜 Don't Thank Me For Loving You: Spencer and Reader have been dating for a total of 4 weeks. If someone asked, Spencer would be able to tell them the exact amount of time he’s been in love with Y/N. So why does he get so nervous to share a bed?

💛 Is This Gonna Be Graded?: Y/N’s last assignment is simple, write down everything that you’d want to try. The options are endless and that just might be the end of her.

💛 🧣You Can Hear It In the Silence: Sneaking around can be fun, but sometimes the silence is just too quiet, or a small moment of falling in love with your best friend.

💛 🧣 Worship This Love: Y/N doesn’t think she can get jealous easily. She knows that Spencer is almost as head over heel for her as she is for him. But still, seeing the pretty detective grab Spencer by the tie is enough to send her into a jealous stupor.

🤍 🧣 It's A Love Story, Baby: Secret relationships can be fun, but sometimes the love runs so deep that it’s just begging to get the spotlight. Love like that is difficult, but it’s the realest thing Spencer and Y/N have ever felt.

🤍The Doctor Is In: Reader knows that they shouldn’t have dairy, but it’s hard to resist the creamy sweetness, especially when an equally sweet husband wants to have a relaxing vacation.

💜🧣 My Silent Screams, Our Wildest Dreams: Reader knows two things, she loves Spencer and Spencer doesn’t love her back. But, she finds herself learning a couple more things that threaten to shake up her world.

🤍 You Remind Me of You: Spencer Reid is good at many things, but he just might be too good at pretending to be in love with Reader.

🤍 🧣 Boys Only Want Love If It's Torture: You don’t hate may people, but you sure do hate the ridiculously cute Dr. Spencer Reid.

💛 (De)Railed: The canon episode “Derailed” reimagined where Reader is sent on the solo interview and Spencer, recklessly, decides to save her. Plus, the aftermath.

💜🧣 I Will Stay: Spencer returns home after leaving Gideon’s cabin, but is haunted by the ghosts of his past and the finicky fate of his future.

🤍💜 Honestly & Truly: Spencer has his prom 10 years late, but none of that matters when it's with the girl of his dreams.

💛🤍🧣 I Once Was Poison But Now I'm Your Daisy: Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? Most people don’t think that translations to having a clandestine relationship with someone you’re supposed to hate, yet most people don’t have a Spencer Reid in their life.

💜🧣 That's When: Sometimes Spencer’s mouth works faster than he his brain. And when that happens there’s casualties of the heart

💜 Unconditional Love: Spencer is anxious to get home to help his secret fiancée grieve the loss of her beloved cat, Chuck

🤍 🧣 You and Me Forevermore: Weddings are the promise of you and me forevermore. Spencer and you share a special dance.

🤍 Forever Composed Of Nows: Spencer continues a tradition and asks an important question.

💜 🧣Stars Around My Scars: The incident with Hotch and the hostage brings up some bad memories for Spencer, but sometimes you fate has a funnily little way of showing you the people that will draw stars around your scars.

🤍 Passwords & Passionate Pecks: It’s time to change computer systems passwords at the BAU. To make things easier, Garcia tells Spencer to memorize the passwords, but for some reason Reader doesn’t want him to know.

💛🧣 And I'll Do Anything You Say (If You Say It With You Hands): Spencer and Reader are forced to share a room, but can't resist falling into old patterns, even though it's dangerous and just might break them.

🤍 It's Gonna Be Alright (With You By My Side): Reader has some news for Spencer, but he needs some help putting it together. When he realizes it's as easy as well, one, two, three

🤍💜 🧣 Eyes Like Sinking Ships: The boy with the rosy cheeks and golden eyes in the library has some secrets up his sleeve

💜🧣 There's A Heart On Your Sleeve (I'll Take It When You Leave): Spencer is no Clyde and you are no Bonnie, but why can't you just run from it all?

💛 🧣 Red Lips and Rosy Cheeks: Spencer Reid is a wallflower. But what happens to wallflowers when they’re invited to the dancefloor?

🤍 That's How I Know Your Mine: Spencer and Reader decide to screw the traditional wedding and get married amongst the wildflowers.

#masterlist #samuel-de-champagne-problems #my masterlist #Spencer Reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader

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thebuckysoldier · 4 years

Text

Angel

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: You were experimented on, resulting in you now having wings. Eventhough you might hate it, Bucky doesn’t.

Wordcount: almost 1.6K

Warnings: angst

A/N: I’m so sorry, again, it’s been so long. And again, it’s not a identical mosters update but an oneshot. I kind of really like this concept and i think its cute, also this one has been ready for quite a while but i wanted it to be longer but i had no idea how to make it longer and i kinda like it like this. So here you go, please enjoy, and also another side note, i think i found motivation to continue identical mosters so we’ll see if i upload in the next couple of days, I’m very sorry if i don’t in advance.

Masterlist

(gif is not mine)

When you first met everyone in the tower, you were scared of their prying eyes, their gazes and their eyes scanning your appearance.

Oh, how far you’ve come since then. You remembered the way everyone had looked at you well, but you never held any grudges against them for it. They all had apologized, it’s just that they had never seen anyone like you. And that’s probably because there is no-one like you, and if there was the things you’d give to meet them.

You were special, and you had accepted it now. You had maybe chosen a different way for yourself to become special, but oh well you were here now. It wasn’t your choice to be kidnapped and experimented on.

No, the experimenting they had done on you wasn’t like the experimenting Hydra had done to the Maximoffs. No, it wasn’t alike in any way. Loki’s staff caused them to have awesome powers, what your torturers had done was cut you up and stitched you back together again and again and again until they had finally reached their goal.

Now there were two protuberances sticking out of your back they had dared to call wings. And yeah, they had actually succeeded, you were able to fly with those wings. When you first came to the tower you were weak and they had called a miracle that you were still alive. You could use the wings back then, but barely, and it also hurt so badly you passed out every time you’d use them.

You were different and kept to yourself, but surprisingly it was Bucky who had taken you under his wing. He helped you when you needed it, while you were trying to distance yourself from everyone, and who knows, they might have tried to distance themselves from you too, he didn’t. He took care of you, he knew what it was like being the odd one out and when he was he took great comfort in knowing Steve.

He felt bad for you, everyone was curious about you, but didn’t seem to care to talk to you, or to even question you about the things on your back. You knew no one in the tower and suddenly you were living in the same ‘house’ as them, used the same kitchen and walked through the same hallways.

Bucky had never looked at you that way, and you couldn’t find the words to tell him how grateful you were for that. It was because of him you were able to grow into the person you were today, nothing compared to the person who first walked through those doors.

Of course you’d never be the same person you were before everything happened but you are content and confident being the person you are today. Although you may have hated living in the tower at first, you couldn’t be happier to be there now. Most of your mornings were spent training with Sam or sometimes Nat if you were feeling up to it for the day. And then you usually made breakfast and ate with whoever was in there with you, it didn’t matter anymore they all warmed up to you and became great friends. Afternoons were spent having fun with Wanda, occasionally Peter and Shuri too if they were around, there was also rarely a day you didn’t stop by Tony and Bruce in their lab. Overall your days in the tower were good, you were fine being with anyone and speaking with anyone but you were also perfectly okay being on your own and watching a movie or reading a book.

But the thing you were maybe most grateful for was that at the end of the day you’d get to curl up to Bucky and talk to him about the day you had, whether they were spent apart or together.

You and Bucky took great comfort in each other, although you were very different people, if you look closer you may have more in common then first meets the eye. He was the first person you ever let close to your back, and the first time you let him he almost shed a tear, you may not have noticed, but that really meant a lot to him. He was known for being violent, his name was connected to hurt and yet he was the first person you let take care of you.

Like the skin connected to his metal arm, your back was scarred and had an angry red color. So when you had let him touch your back the first thing he did was gently rubbed some cream onto it that would help your skin heal itself. He had learned you how to take care of yourself, and in return you did the same. He still had his own trauma to deal with, but you thought it was safe to say that you both had come a long way already.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

It took you a long time, even after you had become more open with everyone in the tower, before you were able to join the others on missions. You trained long and hard, because making a change for the better in the world was something you really wanted to do.

So when Steve finally agreed to let you come to a smaller mission you were beyond happy. To say the mission went extremely well was an understatement, and you were happy you were an asset to the team. And from then on you went on almost every mission fury sent your way. Mostly Natasha but the others too trained you to be a skilled fighter and with the help of Bruce, Tony and doctor Cho you could now use your wings without it hurting which was a great help as well.

But even though the wings didn’t really hurt anymore, the skin surrounding the wings was still scarred and red. But there was another thing about the wings that you hated. Yes of course you got looks from everyone that saw the wings, I mean a human with wings? Yeah something doesn’t add up there.

But they weren’t pretty wings, bird like wings with feathers, like the ones angels have. Beautiful white feathers, if only your wings looked like that. But no, in stead the scientists gave you purple-ish, red-ish wings the resembled more batwings then anything else. They were ugly in your opinion, the skin like consistency of the wings felt and looked weird, ugly and dare I say it, scary.

How everyone, but most importantly Bucky, could accept you this way was something you could never understand. The wings made you look scary. The world was aware of you, they knew who you were and they knew that you were with the avengers, but they don’t know your story. There are times when you are out on the streets with Steve or Tony to anyone really gets recognized for example by little kids and they scare away from you, they hid behind their mothers legs. You were sure nothing could ever hurt you more, you loved kids, you truly believed you had a kind heart and you took pride of that. Even though you’ve been hurt so much, you aspired to be the best kind of human being. And when young kids are scared of you, your heart breaks into a million pieces.

But sadly, scaring away children isn’t the only thing that happens when you get recognized on the streets. Teens and often older people too, throw hurtful words at you.

“Monster”

“Freak”

“Mutant”

“Demon”

And that list goes on and on and on. You would think you’d know all the hurtful words by now, but it seems like they come up with new ones everyday. But Bucky is always there, at first you didn’t show that you cared about what people thought, but little by little as Bucky broke your walls down, you let him in on your thoughts. And of course he told you not to care, they didn’t know better, but the also knew from experience it’s not easy. After what he had done all those years, Bucky received quite some backlash too. At the end of a hard day he always called the two of you ‘the monstrous couple’ and for some reason a smile magically appeared after those words. Maybe it was caused by the butterflies you still had every time he called you a couple, maybe it was the reminder that you weren’t alone in all this, or the fact that the two of you could make fun of it because deep down you knew in the end, you only need him.

But he still found you often looking at yourself and your wings in the mirror. This conversation was one you had with Bucky over and over again. And for some reason you two always said the exact same words, as if it was the first time you ever had the conversation.

“What are you looking at, doll?” He’d ask as if he didn’t already know.

“The wings” you’d reply

“And why is that?”

“Because they’re horrendous, I look horrendous.”

“Honey you’re the most beautiful human being the world has ever seen, inside and out”

And he’d always take a little breath before adding the next part. The part you loved most.

“Darling you’re an angel, you’re my angel and you got the wings to prove it”

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