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random-thought-depository · 3 years

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Continuing from my last post about science fictional “hyperspaces” (wow, I think that might be the most viral original post I ever wrote; it’s amazing what being reblogged by @argumate can do for a post!):

As a science fiction writer, these are the features I find attractive about “hyperspace” that incline me to favor it over other explanations for “fast” interstellar communication and travel:

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Hyperspace lets space still feel big. Wormholes/portals and instantaneous “jump drives” tend to make space feel small (though wormholes lend themselves nicely to space outside the wormhole network feeling big and to a feeling of sharp discontinuity between “known” or “civilized” space within the network and “unknown” or “wild” space where the network doesn’t reach). Start-anywhere go-anywhere jump drives without serious limitations have the additional issue that they’re more-or-less equivalent to teleporters, so they create the ultimate MAD setting where defending multiple fixed locations from a peer adversary is very difficult, and they minimize the strategic advantages of sustainable stationary banditry over unsustainable hyper-exploitive mobile banditry, and since the likely implications of that are very depressing I prefer to avoid it (except maybe if I was deliberately setting out to write a dystopia or explore the idea).

I want space to feel big in my writing, to give the reader some feeling of the vastness, grandeur, and inhuman scale of the universe. For my main science fiction setting, I think I’ll give hyperspace travel an effective “speed” of something like 5-10 c in Sol’s local neighborhood. That way interstellar journeys are more manageable than they’d be with journeys through our space, but journeys to other inhabited solar systems usually take at least a year or two (Sol to Alpha Centauri may be less than a year in hyperspace, but add in travel time to and from the Sol and Alpha Centauri hyper-limits, which is probably going to be at least a couple of months for each leg, and it’s probably about a year).

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Hyperspace feels more like the sort of thing that might plausibly be useable to almost hairless apes with near-future-ish technology. With warp drives and wormholes and jump drives and so on I get the niggling feeling that’s the sort of thing you should probably have to be on approximately the level of an Orion’s Arm Archialect to do. Real theoretical warp drive and wormhole proposals tend to involve stuff like exotic forms of matter and energy and very large amounts of energy. Hyperspace would be a natural phenomenon, so it’s easier to explain it in terms of people exploiting natural phenomena we just don’t know about now, no weirder than being able to travel faster than rowing would allow by building a sail to catch the wind.

You can say that there are some rare atoms that naturally have a structure that extends into hyperspace. With human senses and 2020s technology they just look like ordinary atoms of silicon, iron, etc., but with the right kind of machinery you can detect them, sift them out of the surrounding 3D atoms, and concentrate them. Once you’ve got enough of them, you can make them the core of a pair of transmitters that you can use to send and receive radio messages through hyperspace. With more energy, you can “push” on these structures and “push” those atoms into hyperspace, and then if those atoms are part of a larger solid object the rest of the object and anything touching it gets dragged along with them (with a certain size limit, perhaps related to mass being “pushed” and energy used, so you don’t have to worry about accidentally sending the whole Earth into hyperspace the first time you try this - that’d be one heck of an oops; maybe a later disproven small theoretical possibility of that happening would go down into the history books along with “before they exploded Trinity they were worried it might ignite the atmosphere”); thus you can send a whole ship into hyperspace instead of just information. When you want to leave hyperspace you can reverse the operation and “push” the ship back into our space.

That gives you a nice highly valuable “handwavium” that can be a hook for various plot and worldbuilding points, e.g. there’s not much obvious economic reason to colonize Mars IRL except maybe tourism (anything you could mine there you get more easily from near-Earth asteroids, and it’s too inhospitable to make much sense as a settler colony), but maybe there’s a huge mother lode of these hyperspace-touching atoms somewhere on Mars. These hyperspace-touching atoms would be especially valuable if the process of using them for communication or in hyperdrives “strained” these structures and at some predictable rate caused some of them to “snap,” causing the atoms to become ordinary 3D atoms of silicon or iron or uranium or whatever. Then there’d be a continuous need for (relatively) large amounts of new ones even in a steady-state economy; you couldn’t just keep recycling them and recycling them and just do a little mining to make up for recycling inefficiencies. This would also be an interesting limit on use of hyperspace; using hyperspace radio or doing a hyperjump involves destroying a small amount of a precious resource, so people wouldn’t want to do it frivolously. This might augment that sphere analogy limitation on hyperspace communication I talked about in my other post; even if a hyperspace radio message from Saturn to Earth got there a little ahead of a radio message through our space, you’d probably send a radio message through our space for anything that isn’t time-critical, because the message arriving ten minutes sooner usually just isn’t worth the predictable cost in “snapped” hyperspace-touching atoms.

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Hyperspace would be an environment, so you can do interesting things with it.

Since hyperspace offers a short-cut because it’s more compact than our space, I like to pull on the idea that it’s like our space but in a more compact state, so it’s similar to what our space looked like when the universe was younger and smaller. Going to hyperspace might be a little like time travelling back to a few tens or hundreds of millions of years after the Big Bang, before the first stars formed. The environment of hyperspace might be a little like the inside of a giant molecular cloud, but “warmer” and extremely impoverished in heavy elements. The gas density might be a few thousand to a few billion atoms per cubic centimeter (by comparison, sea level air is about 10^19 molecules per cubic centimeter while the interstellar medium averages around 1 atom per cubic centimeter). The gasses and plasmas in hyperspace would be almost pure hydrogen and helium. The cosmic microwave background temperature in hyperspace might be around 50 K; that’s warm in comparison to what it is in our space (around 3 K), and warm enough to probably be a big part of the reason hyperspace has no stars (present day star-forming giant molecular cloud regions have gas temperatures around 10-20 K), but by human standards it’s deeply cold; it’s upper atmosphere of Uranus temperature. With no stars, I’d guess hyperspace would be a place of more-or-less total darkness outside the range of any lights humans passing through might bring with them.

Alternately, if I want hyperspace to have a murky and mysterious quality and be a place where visibility isn’t good and sensors don’t work well (so a vibe a bit like B5 hyperspace), I could say the Big Bang nucleosynthesis era lasted longer in hyperspace and there produced a substantial amount of heavy elements, some of which then condensed into dust (probably more like smoke if it’s similar to interstellar dust in our space - nanometer to micrometer particles). This dust would probably be pretty insubstantial on human scale distances (again, if it’s like the interstellar medium matter in hyperspace would be about 99% mostly hydrogen and helium gas and plasma and 1% dust, and even a relatively “dense” hyperspace with billions of atoms per cm^3 would have less than a billionth the gas density of sea level air), but over AUs it would scatter light and that effect might add up. This would make hyperspace similar to a dark nebula.

If I want to take the “hyperspace is a scary place” further, I could add sources of energy that might further confuse sensors and add dangerous radiation and other dangers to the mix. Maybe hyperspace has a few large black holes or something, with energetic accretion disks and polar jets fed by all that relatively dense gas and adding turbulence to it. Or maybe spacetime in hyperspace is “lumpier” than spacetime in our space and hyperspace has weird “rivers” formed by something related to whatever force drives cosmic expansion and some of the gas/plasma gets caught in that and accelerated to large fractions of the speed of light and then slams into the low-velocity material in the “still” parts in places, creating lots of turbulence and various other interesting and scary things (powerful magnetic fields, radiation, locally intense heat, maybe some of these collision zones are even giant naturally occurring inertial confinement fusion reactors; maybe that’s where the heavy elements in the dust come from). Maybe hyperspace has a lot of cosmic strings; it makes a certain intuitive sense that, hyperspace being more compact than our space, its cosmic eggshell might be densely veined with cracks.

This gets into another interesting aspect; hyperspace might have something equivalent to terrain; hyperspace travel may be easier in some directions than others. And there’s lots of worldbuilding and plot hooks you could hang from that idea.

For example, let’s look at that idea of hyperspace having “rivers” formed of exotic spacetime structures and filled with gas/plasma streams moving at high fractions of the speed of light. If the edge of these “rivers” has a gradual enough velocity gradient and the plasma in the “rivers” is ionized, with enough skill a spacecraft pilot might be able to catch that “current” with a magsail and ride it, then when they’d gotten about as far as they needed to go they could leave the “river” and do magsail braking against low-velocity plasma in the “still” areas. Just gotta be careful to stay well away from the dangerous collision zones! This might be a huge part of the short-cut offered by hyperspace travel! It could be that distances across hyperspace are only modestly shorter than distances across our space (say, Alpha Centauri is 1 light year away in hyperspace), but the really big savings is you can catch one of these hyperspace “currents” and use it to get up to large fractions of c without expending any fuel. A set-up like that does raise some awkward questions about conservation of energy, but I could say something like “the hyperspace ‘rivers’ are areas where dark energy is being converted into kinetic energy, slightly slowing down the expansion of the universe in the process.” It’s not like we know much about how dark energy works, or even what it is, so for all we know that’s a thing that might happen under certain conditions.

Those collision zones would generate substantial radiation, including light, so unlike a calm hyperspace a turbulent hyperspace with energetic “currents” would probably have light. Don’t know how bright it would be; all that dust (made of heavy elements built up over the eons by inertial confinement fusion in collision zones, I like that idea!) would absorb a lot of light over cosmic distances, and stars are pretty bright but most of our space is pretty dark.

That set-up would make hyperspace travel kind of like sailing; there would be “currents” or “winds” you want to catch, and travel might be a lot faster along directions where the currents are favorable. Travel times in hyperspace might only loosely correlate with distance; Alpha Centauri might take longer to reach than Zeta Reticuli. There would also be hazards you’d need to avoid, e.g. the collision zones.

Maybe part of the explanation for the Fermi Paradox might be that Earth is in the middle of a big “still” part of hyperspace; few ships went here because we’re in the middle of a cosmic doldrums that takes years to crawl across.

With a set-up like this, hyperspace may have “weather” that influences interstellar commerce, and “climate change” on historical timescales that influences the trajectories of interstellar societies. Ages when hyperspace is particularly turbulent might cause Dark Ages as hyperspace travel becomes very dangerous. Ages when hyperspace becomes unusually calm might also cause Dark Ages as there are no fast hyperspace “currents” to ride and hyperspace travel becomes relatively slow. In one age hyperspace “currents” may be arranged such that a world is isolated; a few thousand years later the hyperspace “currents” might have shifted and that previously isolated world might be much more accessible and back in the mainstream of interstellar civilization.

One wrinkle: a turbulent, energetic, opaque hyperspace such as this probably wouldn’t be good for sending radio signals across. Maybe the universe actually has multiple “basement” levels, hyperspace is just the one that’s “closest” to our “living room” level and the only one that’s “close” enough that ships can travel to and from it, but there’s a clearer layer that’s “farther away” but still “close” enough that you can send radio signals through it, and that “deeper” clear layer is the one used for interstellar communication. Bonus idea I like: the deep clear layer is even more compact than hyperspace (by orders of magnitude) so it’s overall a much better short-cut in every way except being “too far away” to send ships through it, so finding a way to send ships through it is a huge potential breakthrough that tantalizes generations of scientists and engineers who so far have not managed to figure out a way to do it.

Really, on that note, I like the idea that the universe is analogous to an onion with many “layers,” and hyperspace and the deep clear layer are just the layers that are most easily accessible from our space. There are a lot of “basements” below the deep clear layer, and generally as you get farther “down” the “basements” get smaller, denser, and hotter; going “down” is a little like time travelling to eras closer and closer to the Big Bang (though this isn’t a completely reliable rule - the deep clear layer is smaller than hyperspace and perhaps warmer, but seems to be a lot emptier; maybe most of its matter has been sucked into black holes?). Maybe the whole thing is a bit timey wimey wibbly wobbly and if you go “down” far enough you eventually hit what 2020s science knows as the moment of the Big Bang. As well as “basements” there are also “attics,” but they’re less accessible because going “up” is harder than going “down.” If going “down” into the basements is a little like time travelling to the early universe, going “up” into the attics is a little like time travelling to the deep future, to places that look kind of like what our space may look like in the deep future black hole era (assuming the Big Rip doesn’t destroy our universe before that deep future proton decay story has time to play out). The “attics” are vast, empty, and deeply cold; cosmic microwave background temperatures a tiny fraction of a degree above absolute zero and precious little else to generate energy, maybe one atom in every cubic kilometer of space. They probably expanded too quickly for stars to ever form there. The total number of layers might be large; maybe hundreds or thousands, maybe billions, maybe a number so big it would need to be expressed in scientific notation. I like this idea because it makes hyperspace feel less implausibly convenient for humans; we’re just taking advantage of a particularly convenient part of a big macrostructure that’s mostly inaccessible to us.

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Hyperspace is a natural phenomenon, so it probably isn’t going to be neatly quarantined to just being a thing humans can use for communication and travel. Hyperspace-related phenomena are going to show up in nature, and this offers a neat explanation for any exotic soft SF-ish natural phenomena you may be interested in incorporating into your setting.

Hyperspace (and other “basements” of our universe) also gives you a built-in parsimonious explanation for any other bits of soft SF technology your setting might feature. Want your setting to have e.g. Star Trek style forcefields? You can say they work through interaction with one of the “basement” layers of the universe.

On that note, I have an idea for a more hard SF version of the Babylon 5 “going beyond the Rim” thing or Stargate ascension, based on the “onion universe” concept I described above, which might serve as a partial explanation for the Fermi Paradox. Maybe some “layers” of the “onion” are “superhabitable” to advanced machine intelligences (though not to primitive flesh and blood beings like us). You know the aestivation hypothesis? If advanced machine intelligences could move to an “attic” they wouldn’t have to wait billions of years for our space to cool down; the cosmic microwave background temperatures in many of the “attics” would already be some tiny fraction of a degree above absolute zero. Maybe they could move to a nice big cold “attic” and live there and “mine” a nice compact “basement” that is rich in matter and energy, getting the best of both worlds. Most of these “attics” and “basements” would be completely inaccessible to humans, but beings with better technology and more resources might be able to access many more of them (or maybe even get beyond the “onion” and search the entire multiverse for universes with conditions more to their liking). So the universe’s most powerful and most enduring civilizations might usually leave our space and move to another “layer” or universe that has conditions more ideal for them, and thus be mostly undetectable to us.

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See: the concept of hyperspace is loaded with potential plot and worldbuilding hooks if you use a little imagination, and I like that!

#worldbuilding #worldbuilding ideas #my writing

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cybertronian-cupid · 3 years

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Heya I see requests are open for a bit longer so if it wouldn’t be much of a hassle could I ask for TFP Soundwave with a ftm S/O with tentacles and sex pollen. Thank you so much!

Hopefuly you enjoy and thank you for your patience!💥~Gregoria🏩

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The man was not even supposed to be here with him. The only reason Soundwave hadn't swiftly sent him back onto the Nemesis with a ground bridge was because they were both too busy to spend time with each other while onboard. So a walk in the woods wouldn't hurt, right?

Until they came across the wrecker and his charge.

Before he had the chance to properly launch the autobot pet away from himself, her guardian slammed into him with such force the tree they crashed into snapped in half, falling right on top of him.

His fans stalled and sputtered, the pollen caking his insides while the autobot made a hasty retreat. His wires began tingling, charge rising to the surface with both the overheating of his frame and the strange aroma the yellow powder was producing.

Soundwave felt a surge up his spinal strut, his plating shifting open wider as the temperature of his systems began to climb. His cables unfurled, sensitive tentacles waving away the particles clinging to them, and began swinging wildly around, searching. It collided with the human and coiled around his body, dragging him closer to Soundwave's obstructed visor. Hands scraped the annoying particles away, bringing his partner's worried gaze into focus.

"Hey, you okay there big guy?"

His question was answered when the heat of Soundwaves systems swelled once again, rushing through him in a wave. His systems decided that expelling the substance from his internals was a higher priority than confirmation of his well being. His vents blasted air and dust in quick successions, his vocaliser spitting a string of garbled synths. Whatever the intended action was, it did not take care of the problem, since his human began hacking away as well, his eyes watering from the irritant and other organic matter spread on the forest floor.

In the end, it took him three resets of his processor for him to register his partner was looking up at him, cheeks flushed, hair sticking everywhere and caked in the fine yellow particles.

"Stay here, I'll see if I can get a hold of the others."

Tentacle coiled tighter around his body, feelers twitching with the charge. It just wasn't leaving the systems as it should, instead trapped in a seemingly endless loop. And he did not want him leaving.

"Soundwave?"

His array pulsed painfully beneath his plating, and he let out a broken crackle of a noise.

He could see the man swallow, his throat bobbing, voice cracking slightly when he repeated himself, asking about his well being. It's been lowering in pitch over the past few months and the way he sounded now was not helping with the mech's self control.

His servo dug into the earth, digits raking the ground, vents puffing hot air with each moment his optic focused on his boyfriends body. His cables would around his legs, feelers caressing the skin where his groin started.

"What are you-"

A muffled recording of a porn star crackled from his vocalizer, and in the next moment the pants were torn off, his human pressed against the forest floor, Soundwaves tentacles exploring his lovers sex, sending vibrations against all the right spots , making him gasp out and moan into the touches, back arching as the other tentacle would itself against him, the feelers finding their way into his mouth.

»Suck« commanded a deep human voice, and his partner got to work immediately. He could feel the throbbing of his cunt, the way his hips twitched , begging for Soundwaves spike, for his transfluid.

With the look his man was giving him, Soundwave was about ready to do exactly that. Unfortunately, his latches were so coated in the organic matter that his mechanisms refused to open. Or maybe it was his frames last attempt at coherency and attempt of keeping at least some part of him safe from the sensation assaulting his whole frame.

So the next best thing had to be used.

The cable shoved itself inside the man's cunt, the force of it sending him skidding alongside the forest floor, a scream muffled by the feelers shoving themselves deeper down his throat, setting a ruthless pace against him, his body being rocked with a speed Soundwave never dared to try with him before. He could feel the man trying to press his tongue between the feelers fucking his throat, the sensation of the appendage against his own sending a surge through Soundwaves spark.

The man's walls clenched around the cable inside of him, and somewhere behind his logical processor pinged him with confirmation of his partner orgasming twice already, attempting to convey something Soundwaves' heat riddled processor could not properly interpret.

At the forefront was only one thing, and that was to breed his human, to have him so spent and stretched by the tentacles, that he won't be able to crawl away from him when Soundwave manages to tear his codpiece off and frag him so thoroughly there will be at least five sparklings kindling inside of him by the time they're done. The thought alone had his panels filled to the brim with lubricant.

The human's arms gripped the cable fucking his throat and managed to keep it out of his mouth long enough for him to take half of the feelers into his mouth and begin sucking lewdly and bobbing his head on them. He teased at the seams and delicate outer mesh of the cables, before popping his mouth off and screaming Soundwaves designation to the sky, squeezing tightly around the appendage.

Unfortunately for him, that also meant Soundwaves secondary overload triggered and he was not fully prepared for the charge that fizzled along the tips of his feelers, causing his human to cry out.

His systems noted another orgasm, and slotted the information aside, the heat riddled part of his processor realizing best breeding will be achieved at a smaller scale. His frame, conveniently, could do that, and his tentacle unwound itself from around the heaving chest, instead wrapping around the calves and hoisting trembling legs backwards towards the man's shoulders

»Soundwave,« the man called, tired words full of ecstasy. Before mass displaced the only thing that was truly shoving inside of him were the feelers, but now…

Soundwave let out a curse in binary, attempting to once again open his codpiece, before yanking at it with his servos, scratching at his paint. Digits too dull to do the job properly.

His tentacle rubbed itself against the man's folds, drawing another moan of pleasure from him.

In the next moment it was shooting in and out of him at a speed that had the man scrambling for purchase against the forest floor, sinking fingers into decaying leaves and screaming human curses towards the treetops. It felt like seconds passed in between the messages of his mates' orgasms, Soundwaves own overload approaching, the excess energy crackling under his plating.

His logic and combat unit was screaming something at him, but it took a cable to his medical port and a shock to his systems to get the message across.

Before his vision blackened out from the induced shutdown, his optic registered the blissed out look on his wrecked partner, droll dribbling down his chin. The sight alone almost made him pounce right back on him, keen on flipping him over and exploring just how tight his ass would feel and how loudly he'd beg for him when being fucked and filled even more than before.

If there wasn't additional weight pressing on his back and another shock administered to his systems, he would have done just that.

#anon #tfp soundwave #tfp valveplug #valveplug #tfp soundwave x reader

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willadisastercry · 3 years

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When the dust clears and you almost wish it hadn’t...

tw: emetophobia warning (brief but there), depictions of being trapped/pinned, broken bone, head injury, blood, threat of being crushed, threat of drowning.

The paladins respond to a distress signal on a foreign planet and make quick work of getting its civilians to safety, but on their last sweep surface side, shit hits the fan. Pidge and Lance are hurt but Shiro is trapped and can’t help them. On top of that, the conditions they’re stuck in are only getting worse. With no access to the coms and no tools to help them, the trio is forced to get creative and make some sacrifices.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Dust rained down in a continuous sheet, the tiny particles lit up in beams where the brightness of the day outside peaked through the mottled roof of debris now sheltering them. It seeped through their shattered visors and cacked their lungs making whatever ragged breaths they took after they realized they’d finally stopped falling harsh and desperate.

Shiro was the only one who hadn’t been knocked out after the initial collapse, more just dazed in momentary shock from the suddenness of it all, his visor most in tact and his com emitting static output that would catch a few garbled words every now and then.

The planet they were on had sent out a distress signal when the galra outpost stationed in their solar system had somehow managed to pull their moons out of alignment, and like on earth, their moons had significant influence over their tides.

Before they arrived, the land had only been hit by minor floods but as soon as voltron and the castleship entered their atmosphere, the unruly currents ramped up tenfold and small tremors could be felt from somewhere deep underground.

The abnormal weather phenomena hadn’t yet delved into anything seismic, just tidal, but they’d only been planet-side for ten minutes before alarms started blaring and the locals emerged from their homes frantic and scared.

Evacuation via lion had actually gone relatively smoothly, the paladins able to relocate the citizens before the trembles of the shifting plates became truly dangerous.

It had started off pretty tame, the rumblings far between and only enough to shake the windows and trees. But they steadily amplified the longer the evacuation went on until shaking became shuddering and soon trees were swaying and buildings were groaning.

After everyone was loaded onto the castle outside of the planets orbit Pidge flew the green lion flew back down to the surface stowing Lance and a lionless Shiro. They were in charge of carrying out the final sweep to check for stragglers, though the only thing they’d actually found was themselves caught in the height of a particularly large quake.

They were in the city center attempting to make it back to Green who was stationed at the beginning of the tree line on the outskirts of the city, antsy and waiting. But they would never get there because the intense trembling brought them to the knees before they’d even caught sight of the lion.

It would’ve been alright if the solid ground they thought they were on was truly as solid as it appeared, but it wasn’t, because the cracks splitting the pavilion open splintered towards them before they could even cry out and then the last thing they could hear was a roar almost as deafening as the sound of the planet ripping apart beneath their feet.

The fall wasn’t long or else they wouldn’t be alive to choke on the sheer amount of crap in the air, their helmets not surviving the broken bits of sediment that accosted them on the decent, cracking their visors and damaging their com systems.

Though cumbersome and clunky, their paladin armor was also sturdy and could withstand the weight of the rubble they were more or less sandwiched in. Their suits were ultimately what saved their lives in the initial collapse but it beat their human bodies to hell in the process.

Their senses returned with the panic of not being able to breathe, the moment they realized the ground beneath them was rough with rubble and uneven uprooted earth that wasn’t quite earth audible, marked by disoriented cries of surprise at the debris still falling while the quake that brought them down tapered out.

Pidge and Shiro came back to themselves first, raucous coughs pulling each other to reality over their ringing ears as they worked to clear the soot from their mouths and lungs. It was hard work. The air was dense with all kinds of minuscule specks of ruin that silenced them for a good minute while they struggled against the dryness in their throats.

It was Pidge who tried to move first. She was slumped over a chunk of what used to be a stone pillar from the building that was sucked into the chasm of non-earth along with them, her legs tucked awkwardly beneath her. She stopped abruptly to let out a strangled wail when she went to push herself up.

She hadn’t felt much of anything when she first woke up, just incredibly dazed as she fought to open her eyes under the layer of dust encrusting them. But when she put pressure on her arms she discovered that something was seriously wrong with one of them, collapsing back onto the jagged piece of stone to writhe as pain shot through to her shoulder and seized her back.

“Pidge?”

She barely registered the crackle of a low voice from somewhere nearby, her mind entirely consumed by panicking over the pain she was in as well as the unknown regarding the extent of the injury.

“Pidge is that you? Are you okay?”

It clicked then that it was Shiro speaking but she didn’t have air in her lungs to produce any answer other than a panicked whimper, too afraid to lift herself off of the injured limb to see the damage and incite another wave of agony. She didn’t have enough air to handle that again, sucking down what she could in too large of quantities for such a limited supply.

Shiro was going through a similar mental battle, though the first thing dawning on him as he registered his new surroundings was that Pidge needed help, not his own physical wellbeing. So naturally, he’d tried to get up as soon as he heard her call out only to discover he couldn’t move much because he was sprawled on his back amongst an ever growing pile of debris, his prosthetic arm likely crushed to shit under a sizable slab of stone with smaller chunks pressing against his chest and legs.

He was sufficiently stuck, pinned in place and unable to get to her but forced to listen as her anguished sounds continued.

“Pidge I’m trapped, I can’t—shit, I can’t get to you. And I don’t have visual confirmation from Lance yet so you’re gonna have to work with me here... talk to me, where are you hurt? How bad does it look?”

The sound she contrived then was like the ones before, except not for her own misery, not entirely at least. Because that meant there was still no sign of life from Lance which meant there was a very real concern that there wouldn’t be which left Pidge having to pull herself together and search for him since Shiro was otherwise incapacitated.

This would be sucky and not ideal at all, but necessary.

”Pidge?!”

Logic told her that bones mend and that pain was fleeting. That agony would be temporary, fear too, and once she found Lance it would be better, bearable at least.

And so with that resolve she willed her breathing to slow enough to form a coherent statement.

“It’s my arm,” she huffed quickly, the shrillness in her voice evidence of the severity of the injury.

“Okay, can you move? Is there something on top of you?” Shiro asked calmly, his voice level and sympathetic.

“No, I’m on top of it... if-if I move again—“

“Take a breath, it’s probably broken.”

Clearly, but Pidge was already ten steps ahead, her brain grappling with the notion of whether stabbing pain meant safe compounded fracture or gruesome and bloody and open fracture that would make her sick if she even caught sight of her own arm like that.

She shuddered violently at the thought and bit back a gasp when it jostled whatever lay beneath her.

“You’re okay, just breathe... are you sitting or laying down?”

Still so calm, somehow. So incredibly practical and disarming. It was almost unnerving how well he could do that, compartmentalize everything.

“S-sitting, sort of.”

“How?”

Awkwardly, Shiro. The man might be terrifyingly apt at rationalizing the impossible but seemed utterly incompetent in predicting the obvious.

“Folded over a rock and using it as my pillow... all my weight is on it—on my arm,” she ammended with a gulp.

Shiro took his precious time turning this information over in his head and the radio silence almost had Pidge worrying he’d passed out until his voice came back somehow even more blunt and pragmatic than before.

“That’s better actually. What I need you to do is hold your arm in place with your good hand, press it to your chest and use your shoulder to lean on as you sit back again. It should be less agitating that way—“

Shiro’s gentle instruction was cut off by Pidge’s cry as she sat up and away from the slab of stone like he recommended, her vision whiting as she cradled her arm against herself.

When she could see properly again she found her curiousity too overwhelming and spared a look at the mangled limb.

It was both better and worse than she had imagined. The forearm component of her armor was hanging on in pieces and clearly displayed the horrifying mess that lay under what remained. No skin was broken, but the tip of her bone was very visibly poking the already swelling flesh where the middle of her forearm sported a new joint.

The sight was overwhelming and her breaths soon came in short pants, the threat of passing out suddenly very real.

“Good Pidge, that was great. Take a couple deep breaths for me while you adjust,” he asked gently, his voice taking on a more solemn tone now.

She already knew what was coming next and began rearranging her legs beneath her, several deep breaths required to clear the black dotting her vision before she was confident she could stand testing their strength without them turning jelly.

“I know you’re in a lot of pain right now, but you need to find Lance... I’m not mobile and I haven’t heard him yet.”

“Already... on it,” she panted as she leaned on her knees before coming to a shakey stance.

The lighting was sparse in the pocket of nothing that the pavilion collapsed into after the fissure opened, barely enough to make out the terrain in front of her and then some. So she made her way slowly, toeing rocks and larger slabs before proceeding, checking for stability with every step as she slinked across the unnatural landscape.

“Follow my voice... I can hear you now... watch out for the crap still falling...”

Finding Shiro wasn’t difficult when his voice carried so well through the wreckage, even despite the shifting fauna and bits still crashing down and settling.

There hadn’t been another quake in the time that they’d woken up, but that only made finding Lance that much more important. If he hadn’t responded yet then it was more than likely he was pretty hurt, which would be even more dangerous for him to be alone if the rubble decided to rearrange itself.

“Hey...” Shiro laughed pitifully as she ducked under a slanted piece of stone to get to him.

Pidge saw his predicament immediately, he was looking at her from where he was propped up one elbow, his metal arm wedged underneath a piece of stone bigger than he was.

“Well, that’s not good,” she stated before coming down hard on one knee, clutching her arm extra close as she lowered herself to the floor for a better look.

“Let me see your arm,” he ordered in his leader voice, a futile attempt to deflect from his own issues.

“My arm is snapped, let me see if you still have one,” she countered expertly, pushing away his searching hand after once he’d laid back down try and examine the disfigured appendage now securely in her lap.

He sighed in defeat. Pidge had too many years of experience dodging brotherly coddling with Matt to concede to Shiro’s fretting and let him distract from her own triage efforts.

“How bad? Can’t really tell from this angle...”

“I’m not seeing much but there is quite a bit of space between the floor and the rock still so that’s kind of promising for the integrity of the prosthetic... let me get this crap off though—“

“No, you’re hurt don’t push yourself, it’s fine.”

But Pidge acted as if she hadn’t heard him and began to remove the rocks, turning over the more meager pieces of broken stone from his chest with her good hand.

“Pidge, it’s okay. I’m not hurt and you need to save your energy to look for—“

“Wait! Shut up...”

“Excuse me?!”

“Shhhh!”

Pidge held her hand up to Shiro’s face as she closed her eyes and listened for something. Shiro only heard a faint whooshing and a steady trickle until it happened again. A very guttural but human moan.

“Lance! Shit.”

“Go, he’s gotta be close, he was just beside me when we fell...”

Pidge moved swiftly, more nimble than she could’ve thought possible as she maneuvered around the rubble with only one arm to steady her.

“Lance, call out!”

Every time she moved her arm throbbed horribly, but slowing down was not an option, not when another quake was due and could occur at any moment.

“If you can hear me I need you to make a sound, throw something, anything!”

Her repeated shouts are what in the end got him to groan again, the sound of her pointed words coming closer making the pressure in his skull swell exponentially.

“That’s it, keep making noise...!”

As he tried to wake up and open his eyes he only succeeded in making himself more disoriented, the world seeming to spin even with his eyes squeezed shut.

It dawned on him then that closing his eyes when he had absolutely no idea what sort of life threatening situation he may or may not be in was a sort of really bad idea. He had no clue how he was oriented, no grasp of what was up or down, how his body was positioned, if he was hurt or not. He wasn’t even entirely sure he was alive but the second heart beat on the side of his head seemed to eventually convince him he was.

“Lance?!”

But then again the agony swirling around in his brain didn’t seem to care if it was stupid to close his eyes, nor did the intensity of the light above him that burned his retinas when he attempted to open them.

“Call out!”

Uh, no I will not, thank you very much.

Whoever was screaming in his face needed to learn some manners and stop. The sound pierced his ears like a thousand needles and traveled to the center of the heartbeat in his skull, another pathetic moan escaping his lips as he tried to reach for the spot.

“Oh, no—no, don’t do that.”

He was sprawled on his side, limbs askew and otherwise undamaged aside from his armor appearing nearly shredded in some places with how roughly he’d been tossed around in the fray. His helmet was missing and it took Pidge a few moments to locate it, almost wishing she hadn’t once she did.

The left side was dented, the visor cracked so severely that there was nothing but a few jagged shards left of it.

“You’re okay, I’m here Lance, it’s Pidge.”

Lance didn’t care that it was Pidge, she was screaming at him and it was making him nauseous. He couldn’t understand why she insisted on being so loud when he had such a bad headache or why she held his wrist so tightly.

“You’ve got a pretty nice gash there—” she muttered, her restricting hand releasing him to turn his head to the side “—a nice few gashes, actually.”

He must have made a protesting sound at the movement because she stopped and cupped his cheek instead, using the top of her thumb to wipe the tears making their way to his chin.

“Hey, you’re gonna be alright. Can you open you’re eyes at all?”

“Mmmmm.”

“Can you try? Only for a second, I just need to see something. C’monnnn, don’t you want to see my pretty face?”

He made a softer sound then and his eyelids began to flutter as he tried to pry them open, wincing at how painful even the dim lighting was once he did.

“Good, that’s good. Okay, I’m just gonna help you out here, don’t be scared...” she said as she moved her thumb and pointer finger to prop open one eyelid at a time and keep them still so she could get a good look.

His pupils were blown which was probably why opening them hurt so bad, more light was coming in than should be which couldn’t feel nice for his clearly rattled brain.

“Kay, all done... I think you have a concussion, but nothing else seems to be wrong aside from the still gushing head and facial wounds. Can you keep your hand there do you think? ” she asked as she brought it to where the bleeding was worst and pressed down, illiciting a hiss but no other resistance as he held it place.

“Great, you’re doing so great. I know you probably feel really out of it but we need to get you over to where Shiro is... and my arms kinda busted so I can only give you one hand...”

His groaning halted for a moment to let loose a low whine as he tried to open his eyes long enough to look at what she meant, his face scrunching up with concern when he finally managed to.

“You-your arm... s’hurt...” he choked out, more a restatement than a question, his tongue unwilling and his energy spent as he tried to form something coherent.

“Yeah, as I said, busted. But don’t worry about that now, just give me your hand.”

Lance seemed a bit confused at her command so she took up the hand that was limp at his side and moved it to his lap where she could reposition her own at his elbow.

“This is gonna be a tad tricky so just work with me, okay?”

He grunted a sort of ‘uh huh’ and returned with his own grip on her upper arm.

“I’m gonna stand up and lean back, when I do you’re gonna lean forward and stand with me...” Pidge detailed as she moved his legs so that they were bent towards his chest and in front of him.

It wasn’t that he was immobile. The rest of his body was free of visible injuries but his brain and his limbs seemed to be on different frequencies for the time being, the channels of communication disconnected and not taking signals from one another making his movements sluggish and sloppy.

“Okay, ready? Alright, up we go...”

What happened next was anything other than graceful. As soon as Lance was upright he lilted into Pidge who fixed her stance as he stumbled to keep standing, his grip tight on her arm and his weight almost entirely on her hip as he held his throbbing head.

“You good? Here, arm around my neck, just don’t touch my arm... there ya go. We’ll go slow, it’s not far,” she assured as she began to walk forward, Lance following in his own sort of zigzag next to her.

They made their way excruciatingly slow. Pidge moved with care, constantly analyzing the most doable path to lead Lance into, stepping on top of and over boulder sized bits of stone as he continued on whatever even ground she could find.

It was only when she was tapping her toe behind his knee to get it to buckle that he was aware they’d made it. He hadn’t heard Pidge asking him to sit, didn’t even register her hand on his face as he fought with the terrible heat on the side of his head that threatened to make his stomach act on how unsettled it was.

He let out a breathless ‘oh’ as his butt connected with the ground, a layer of recently upturned dust rising after him. Once he was safely seated Shiro removed his hand from his back from where he’d been assisting the transition.

“Shiroo...!?!” he gushed, the word sloshing in his mouth.

“Hey, Lance.”

Though he knew his friend’s demeanor was the result of a pretty gnarly head injury, Shiro couldn’t help but let a fond smile appear at his almost childlike vocalization.

“How ya feeling?”

“Oh, not good I think, right Pidge?—yeah, really not good...”

“Concussion, I checked,” Pidge provided after Shiro took Lance’s bloody hand away from the source of the bleeding to check the damage out for himself.

“That looks painful,” Shiro sympathized before returning his hand to the spot as gently as he could.

Lance processed that his hand had made contact again about ten seconds after which seemed to send his head realing because the next moment he was choking back a gag.

“Crap, it’s alright if you need to throw up. Just get it out, don’t hold it in,” Shiro ushered, his hand moving to Lance’s arm as he doubled over himself, his throat clenching against the bile rising and he sputtered.

He was sufficiently out of sorts and could hardly hold on to a coherent thought but he knew that he did not want to throw up. Not here in front of his friends, especially Shiro.

But the wave of nausea that was making his stomach cramp and his head throb was overshadowed by the sound of something crashing, like a stack of precariously placed objects falling over abruptly except much louder and followed by a sustained gush.

“Shiro..?”

The trepidation in Pidge’s voice made her sound so much younger, like how she did before Shiro left for Kerberos.

At the same time that fear erupted in his friend’s chests, saliva welled up in Lance’s mouth and he let out a pitiful sound, the new commotion having him seeing stars with how angrily his head pulsed from it.

“It’s probably just rubble settling, can you see anything?”

Pidge moved towards the biggest source of light from where the surface above them split apart, the scene hazy through clouds of dust and substantially obscured by larger breakages of sediment. She lifted herself onto her toes to try and makes sense of the destruction around them.

“No...”

Pidge couldn’t see much through the chalky blackness, just hints of structures here and there.

“There’s nothing there—oh.”

The gushing sound seemed to pull to the forefront of the concerning noises then, like a geyser of something had erupted and was emptying itself out into the chasm that had opened up beneath them and swallowed them down. This was concerning for a lot of reasons.

“Yeah, never mind we are so fucked.”

Lance wasn’t even trying to follow the progression of events going on around him, listening intently enough to make sense of a single sentence worsening the pressure behind his eyes while he stomach continued to flip.

The acid taste coming up his throat was putrid, but mixed with a grating layer of dust irritating the back of his throat, the presence of it while already massively disoriented was overwhelming.

“What is it?-crap Lance. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Shiro soothed, his hand secure on the other boy’s back while his frame shook from retching so hard.

“Pipe must’ve burst, well I guess not a pipe, more like a main...”

“A main? As in a water main?”

“Yes,” Pidge deadpanned, using her good hand to steady herself against a taller shred of stone as she continued evaluating just how fucked they were.

Shiro gulped, convinced he could actually feel the tons of weight on top of his foreign prosthetic growing heavier the longer he remained wedged under it.

“How much is coming in?”

He could hear it clearer now, like the rumble in your ears when wind rushed past them.

“Too much...”

With a hiccoughing whine, Lance pitched forward, nearly collapsing into the puddle of his own sick as he continued to gag.

“Woah, okay! You’re alright, I’ve got you... just do what you have to do bud.”

Shiro’s free hand on the center of Lance’s chest was the only thing keeping him upright as he worked through the rolling waves of dizzying nausea.

Pidge spared a cursory glance towards her friend, watching how his shoulders worked as he heaved for a moment before returning back to her internal spiral.

“Coms are wrecked but they’re out of range so it’s not like that really matters anyway... the air is pretty thin already, but the longer we’re down here the less viable o2 there’s going to be... and the crater we’re in is flooding so the more pressing issue is—”

“Pidge,” Shiro drawled slowly, his tone placating as he watched her pace back and forth, images of Matt doing the same thing surfacing in his mind as she did.

She might resemble her brother in appearance but their personalities for the most part could not be more opposite. Though during his time in the castle of lions Shiro had found that they actually share a lot of the same nervous mannerisms.

He knew Pidge probably had no idea how similar their actions are and he’s sort of glad only he does, suspecting the knowledge would only make her sad.

The only issue with this discovery is the fact that even though her reaction isn’t new to Shiro, dealing with it was, and once Pidge’s mind started working it was hard to get it to stop.

Lance was winding down then. His breaths still heavy and uneven, the stream of blood down his neck and front steady as ever, but he wasn’t gagging anymore.

“You’re arm is... fucked, my arm is fucked, and Lance’s head! Oh god, this is—“

“Calm down, we can figure this out.”

She spun on him abruptly enough that Shiro was scared for a second she might’ve given herself whiplash.

“Calm down?! How do you expect me to do that when we’re going to be underwater in an hour, hell maybe even a couple of minutes?!”

Lance’s shoulders seemed to slump somehow further from the volume of her voice and Shiro took a second before launching into his response to help him sit back on his heels and away from the vomit.

“No, I’m going to be underwater. You and Lance are going to start walking, climbing, whatever it is you have to do to get to higher ground—“

“Yeah okay, fuck that. We’re not leaving you—uh buh bah, save whatever case you were gonna make because I’ll promptly stop listening.”

The visage of Matt retreated entirely with Pidge’s indiscretion, her words seeding with irritation as she shut Shiro down.

“Pidge!”

“I’m so very sorry for my attitude but you really did just pitch us leaving you to drown, are you really that surprised?”

Shiro took a practiced breath, the kind he uses to ground himself because the pit in his chest was expanding and the last thing they needed was him devolving into panic.

He eyed the way Lance swayed as he sat with his legs splayed on either side of him, his hands limp in his lap and coated in blood from the gash on his head.

“You can’t stay here, not when Lance is hurt like this.”

“Okay.”

“Huh? Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. If you want to waste your energy trying to convince me to let you die, then that’s whatever because the reality is that you’re the one stuck under a rock and I’m the only one whose mobile. This is very much my call. Sorry big guy, but we’re sticking around.”

Shiro actually laughed.

He couldn’t ignore the way that his heart filled with admiration at Pidge’s defiance but it was overwhelmed by the burden of the fact that no matter how much pride he had in her for stepping up, he was still trapped and they were still going to watch him die.

He shuddered and Lance hummed at the movement, wondering vaguely if Shiro was hurt at all before the thought disappeared and the only thing he could remember was how insanely painful the knot on the side of his head was and how heavy his aching body felt.

“M’tired... think I’m gonna... mmmh, gonna lay down,” he managed with some concentration and put his hands on the ground to brace himself but didn’t make any further moves, his face scrunching up in confusion as he struggled to figure out how to maneuver himself down when his arms were so difficult to control and his head pulsed blindingly any time he moved.

“You can’t go to sleep yet, dude. Just sit with Shiro for now, I need you to keep an eye on him for me anyway,” Pidge instructed with a grin.

Shiro huffed and narrowed his eyes but it only made her smirk widen.

“W-why? Is Shiro hurt?” Lance asked worriedly, forgetting himself entirely and attempting to twist around to see.

The gravity of the action caught up with him a beat later, the groan that bubbled in his chest ungodly.

“Easy there, hot shot, I’m okay. Just a little stuck,” Shiro assured, stilling him with a firm hand on his shoulder when the surge of pain had him tipping nearly over.

“Kay... s’good,” he noted through clenched teeth before his eyes fluttered shut and his head began to lower to his chest.

A sharp pain from where Shiro flicked the side of his cheek that wasn’t cut up and coated in blood roused Lance from his attempt to rest.

“Ow. Rude.”

“Not rude, necessary. There’s no napping on the job.”

“I’m so tired though... just wanna sleep... you guys are so mean... why can’t I just—“

“Nope. You’ve gotta keep your eyes open for me bud,” Shiro chided, shaking his shoulder gruffly enough to have his bloodshot eyes shooting open.

“But why?” he slurred, the exasperation in his whine sort of heartbreaking, “I could just nap through... the worst of this, it’d be... it’d be so nice... wouldn’t hurt so much...”

“Since when are you all about what’s easy, you’re like the most stubborn human I know?”Shiro asked, his voice full of fondness.

“And you get enough beauty rest as it is, lover boy, you’ll live if you miss a few hours.”

The rushing water filled the ambient silence while Pidge made her way back to her friends from her watch post amongst the rubble.

“Are... we?”

Lance’s voice was a broken whisper, the gravel in it a painful attribution to the stress his throat had been put under between the abuse of the acid in the bile and coarse texture of the dust.

“Are we what, Lance?”

“Live... are we gonna live?”

The gush of moving water rose up in Shiro’s ears like roaring wind again but stronger this time, effectively tunneling his attention on those words, the innocence of them.

“Of course we are—“

“I want it on the record that I, Pidge Gunderson, am making no such promises.”

“PIDGE!”

“So loud... please... shhh...” Lance cried desperately, his hands almost comically slow to rise and cover his ears.

“WHAT?! I’m being honest!”

“You’re being negative!”

“Coming from the guy who just told me to leave him for dead!”

The fire in both paladins eyes was burning so brightly Lance could’ve sworn there was an actual glow with how horribly his head was beginning to hurt from listening to them.

“Alright, I might’ve had a moment of doubt, but we can’t—“

“Stop shaking me Shiro...” Lance whimpered as he drew his knees up to his chest carefully “—it hurts... please quit it...”

This broke the two out of their heated argument.

“I’m not touching you, Lance...”

“Then t-tell whoever is... to fucking stop!”

His chest hitched pitifully when punctuating the last bit with a pleading whine had his head swimming in vengeance. If it weren’t for the stability of hugging his propped up legs so tightly he would’ve fallen over with how dizzy he was.

Pidge looked at Shiro as if he’d know any better than her what the hell he was talking about.

Unfortunately for the both of them, he did not.

“Deep breaths, Lance. You’re probably just disoriented, it’s normal for head injuries to mess with your sense of balance and equilibrium—“

“Shiro...?”

He was beginning to hate hearing his name being called when it was almost always followed by something he really wouldn’t enjoy hearing.

“Yeah, Pidge?”

But she didn’t have to continue because he felt it then.

A steady thrumming from somewhere below.

A rumble.

“Quiznak...”

68 notes · View notes

morimakesfanart · 3 years

Text

Sindria's Prophet #13

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[AO3]

((edited because I figured out to add some more history facts that I think are important))

~POV Sinbad~

"The Kou Empire, huh?"

"That is going to make things risky."

With all of the Generals caught up with what happened in Balbadd, they needed to start planning for King Sinbad's trip to the Kou Empire, as well as catching him up with everything that had happened in Sindria while he was gone.

"LadY YamuRAI H AA AA A" A yell came from the hallway accompanied by the sounds of running.

((Sinbad is hidden on the left. There's a hint of him poking out.))

A panting magician gave apologies for disturbing their meeting and ran to the head of Sindria's magicians. "I wish I knew you were here so I didn't search the tower first~" Then he started explaining about some magical proof. Most of his words sounded like gibberish to the rest, but it was clear that he had made some kind of break though.

Yam jumped out of her seat. "How did you finally figure it out?! Who figured it out?!" She whipped her head to her King, "Sorry your majesty," and then looked back to the other magician.

"It was the work of the Prophet!” the magician answered. "We were talking about her illness and she pulled out scrolls that- you just have to read them for yourself!”

Mori had said that she had written other scrolls before she started coping down Fate. This must have been what she was working on.

Both magicians bowed out to go test out this new information. Before they could leave, Sinbad ended the meeting; there was no way he was going to wait to learn what other information Mori had blessed them with. Ja'far followed as did a few of the other Generals.

When they got into the court yard, the doctors that had been sent to take care of Mori were already pushing their supply cart back to their main building. The magician that had stayed behind spotted them and raised two scrolls up triumphantly. "She let me take the scrolls!"

---

News of the scrolls written by a Prophet spread throughout the Black Libra Tower within an hour. Yamuraiha and the doctors explained their significance to King Sinbad.

If even a fraction of the theories in the scrolls proved true it would completely changed their understanding of how illnesses work. If Mori wasn't sick she would undoubtedly be swarmed with questions and demands for proof. According to the magicians, nothing in the scrolls went against any known information. Instead, they gave explanations to why certain things that had been attempted in the past had failed. What she wrote about 'cells' was what really caught the eyes of the white magicians and doctors. As an example, according to Mori's writing there were blood types and most couldn't mix; that would explain why most past attempts at blood transfusions had failed.

The 2nd scroll showed a break down of even smaller particles, and how the structures of different particles made up everything. This was going to bring alchemic magic to a whole new era. Sure, such things would most likely be limited to high magicians, group efforts, and the Magi, but it looked possible now. A lot of common magic of the current day took extreme amounts of magoi in the past because they hadn't found the right formula yet. Mori's writing -if true- could easily be used as a guide to finding the right order of commands for many spells.

And even more than that, Mori had said that she had even more information to share; she had just ran out of scrolls and ink.

Mori's presence in Sindria, and everything that went with it were Fate and the Rukh's guidance. King Sinbad could see it -the future he wanted.

---

~POV Mori~

In Sindria's Palace there is a Great Bell. It is rung during celebrations, and to signify the King returning home like it did earlier that day, but it's main use was to ring every 2 hours to tell everyone the time since clocks weren't invented yet. So even though I was a sick person trying to rest during the day, I was woken up by the Great Bell every 2 hours... which of course is also situated right on top of the guest tower.

For obvious reasons, I was awake again.

I wish I knew how the others responded to the scrolls. I really wanted to know Yam's opinion most. Those scrolls basically gave away the secret to Yunan's signature alchemy magic.

I still had the first scroll I had worked on -the one on the science behind blimps-, and the last science scroll I had started. That one was on DNA, and reproductive systems. It was the last one I started in Balbadd. I hadn't started working on it until sunrise on my 2nd sleepless night and it showed; there were missing words everywhere, many incomplete sentences, and I couldn't stay in topic.

These mistakes were too great to fix with an ink knife. Editing was going be super annoying and time consuming since I couldn't work digitally. I'd have to physically cut up the first draft to put everything in the right order before making the next one.

Wait- Did this world have scissors???

Back home the first evolution of shears that could be labeled as scissors was in Roman barber shops in the last hundred years or so before Rome fell. China would spontaneous also create something akin to scissors not long after. Reim and the Kou Empire seemed to line up with Rome and ancient China for the most part, so I tend to use them to place the time period, but the dress Princess Dunya wears is centuries off and throws all historical accuracy questions out the window. Rome was long gone by the time boning was added to women's undergarments, and that dress had all the signs of boned corsetry.

Fuck it. I'll ask for scissors and if they don't have them I'll just invent them myself. I had been drafting professionally for the past 4 years. That may have been for microelectronics, but it uses all the same skills; I could do this. I needed to get a ruler -or at least a straight edge- and a drafting compass which they probably have based on the look of maps in the series, and pencils, or at least colored inks if they had them. I probably needed to reinvent the French curve(stencil tool used in art & drafting)...

Since I was struggling to fall back asleep I moved to the table and pulled out my test scroll. It was full of random marks and some of my early drawing attempts that I used to practice with the dip pen -it's also where I wrote down the dreams from the Rukh. I'd write the list of things I needed, rip the section out of the scroll, and pass the list to someone who could get me what I was asking for. I added some living necessities too like sleep wear and a comb.

The maids that came to give me dinner, and next dose of medicine were not pleased that I wasn't in bed -I was an important guest who was sick after all. And I wasn't pleased to have to drink more of that bitter medicine, but we can't have nice things all the time, now can we?

My voices was strained but I managed to communicate enough. I gave them my list, and laundry (the clothes I wore on the boat) before they left. They'd get me the things the next day. I was instructed to sleep until someone brings me breakfast the next day... which is what I was going to do anyway since the sun was practically gone. I might be a bit of a workaholic but I'm not going to let myself pull an accidental all-nighter when I know I'm still sick. I'm far more self aware than that.

And besides, the Great Bell didn't ring at night.

---

Maids brought my breakfast (& meds) the next morning and let me know that my clothes would be cleaned and dry by the end of the day. I guess they didn't use magic for everything.

They also gave me all of the drafting and inking supplies I asked for except for scissors. In one of the omakes Sinbad was shown cutting his hair with a knife as a part of his normal grooming. I had hoped he was just old fashioned.

For the greater good and the future of my own hair care, I drafted up detailed designs for a few different types of basic scissors. They wouldn't look fancy, but hopefully I had put enough of a detailed explanation on everything for the smith to figure out what I was asking. Steel wasn't developed until the middle ages and some of the counties of this world matched that so I hoped

that God and anime were on my side. I really wanted scissors that would be a good quality.

And if that didn't work I'd just have to get used to using knives and bladed rollers like a regular person.

The Great Bell rung for 10 am. There were at least another 2 hours before someone would show up, to give lunch, that I could ask to take my draft for the scissors to a black Smith.

I should be resting as a sick person. I should be more exhausted and in pain as a sick person. What was making me recover this quickly?

I still didn't feel like laying back down, so I decided to start drafting up the materials and equipment for proving everything I had written in the scrolls I gave the previous day.

Globally, micro-organisms, viruses, and bacteria were not really accept or proved until the late 1800's. Since Magi seems to take place some time around our 100AD-1300, and Yunan hinting at chemical compounds was seen as shocking by Yam, I knew that my bio scrolls were probably causing an uproar in the Black Libra Tower. I refused to use actual people or wait for an outbreak to prove it like how it happened in history -like how John Snow proved it when finding the cause of cholera outbreaks in 1848 and 1854 England. No, I needed to show how to prove these things in a lab, and to do that I was going to need to explain how to keep samples and invent a way to see microorganisms.

First was for a glass petri dish and other containers for samples. I'd need at least 3 -preferably more. I know glass works have been around since BC, and that this world had glass windows in some scenes, but I worried about the quality of the glass contaminating the experiments. I was going to have to boil them beforehand to sterilize them anyway.

Gosh I wish I had access to nonporous, air tight containers, and a temperature controlled environment. The heat and humidity of Sindria could easily mess everything up.

Wait... I suddenly remembered a scene from the Magnostadt arc when they showed how a sample was being stored. They already had good enough glass. I knew there were magic bio experiments but I had no idea how they worked.

With the realization that I was getting ahead myself, I switched to writing about how to use the scientific method to test for germs. It was basically the bread in a bag test to teach young children about germs but with petri dishes. I also wrote about how to analyze samples with a microscope to see micro organisms so I was going to have to figure that out next.

Lunch came as the perfect break.

Just thinking about reinventing this thing made me nervous. I knew magnifying glasses existed in ancient Rome, but they would be nothing like what I was used to. I had to explain how light moves and made multiple diagrams showing how concave and convex lenses affect light as well as the material of the lens. I ended up also showing how to make a telescope even though I knew Yam already had one.

Magicians were the only ones shown with glasses. Maybe now the rest of the world could have them too.

4 o'clock came and so did 3 doctors and a magician. It was less than yesterday, but still more than necessary to treat or analyze one person. I only recognized one of the doctors from the previous day. All of the new faces looked nervous. None of them looked young by any measure, so I really doubted this was their first time treating someone.

They weren't happy to see me at the table and made me return to my bed -their loss.

The doctor from the previous day was the one doing most of the talking. "Your recovery is amazing. You will most likely be better in another 3 days at this rate if not sooner. It's practically a miracle."

I smiled. "It's pretty shocking for me too." As long as I spoke quietly and kept my comments short, I found I could talk again for a bit.

The doctor was silent for a moment before changing the subject. "I know you need rest, but would you be willing to answer a few questions about those scrolls from yesterday?

The 3 other men looked expectant. This was why they were here.

"I don't mind as long as you don't make me talk too much."

Then came the question I was expecting since I had first made the scrolls. "I know you are a Prophet and the information came from your visions but is there any way you can prove what you wrote?"

I pointed to the table with the scroll I had started earlier. "I can't prove it with the current equipment I have, so I've been drafting up the needed equipment and processes for proving it."

They all turned to look at where I was pointing.

I added, "It's not done, but you're welcome to read what I have so far."

I was thanked as they went to the table they had called me away from when they entered.

'He called it 'visions?' Really?' I had to ask Sinbad later what he was telling his people about me so I could keep the story straight.

The magician confirmed for the others what I wrote about light bending. There was magic to do that, but not everyone is a magician. I had just invented a way for non-magicians to bend light.

Just wait until I show them a prism that can split light into colors. Or teach them how light is perceived in the eye. Or even better, show them the double slit experiment that proves that light is a particle not just a wave... Did they know light was a wave yet?

"Lady Prophet."

I was pulled out of my thoughts.

"You said this isn't finished and there is plenty of space in this scroll for more, but would you let us take this back to the tower so we can get started?"

I wanted to say 'no.' I was still coming up with things to add to it, but I also knew that holding things back because I wanted to save paper was a fool's game. Besides, I could always add more to it later.

I nodded and they thanked me before making me promise not to leave my bed. They were grateful for this new scroll but not at the expense of my health -they were doctors after all.

And then they left.

It was probably about 5pm if my internal clock was on schedule, so I had about an hour before the next ring of the Bell.

Even if I wasn't a man of my word, I would have lost the motivation to work with my current project taken from me while I was still in the middle of making it.

So, I did the thing I grew up doing when I was bedridden from illness: I looked out the window. From the bed I could only see the tops of the buildings on the other side of the courtyard. The Tower that was just poking in from the left had to be the Black Libra Tower.

The waves in Sindria were calmer yet stronger than those in Balbadd. It was probably due to Sinbad's influence. He brought stability and security to his people. I could understand why so many chose to follow him or ally with him. But I knew where all this would lead. As he obtains more power and influence he will stop being able to see himself from the pedestal that he and everyone else put him on; his greed will make him blind to the wants and needs of others, and like a middle aged parent that isn't ready for their child to leave the nest he will take out his frustration on the world that was moving on without him. When Sinbad dies at the end of the manga, Drakon realizes that they all put too much on Sinbad's shoulders.

To change Fate, I was going to have to make sure I never put him on that pedestal nor rely on him for much. And I was going to have to convince the 8 Generals to do the same -or at least to start pulling more of the weight.

The 6 o'clock Bell came faster than I expected, as well as my dinner not long after. They brought my clean laundry, a sleeping gown, and some other common clothes and things for my convenience.

I would have preferred something much shorter for the night gown since I hate having a lot of extra fabric around my legs when I already have blankets. I was not going to risk being walked in on by doctors or whoever when sleeping naked, so I would make do for now.

There was no way King Sinbad wasn't going to reward me for those scrolls. If it was some kind of treasure I'd sell it and buy a new wardrobe for myself that actually suited me, and if the reward was a request then I would ask that he pay for everything directly.

The light coming in my windows changed, and I watched my 2nd sunset in Sindria.

When Sinbad found this island 10 years ago, he completely terraformed it. He didn't get rid of all of the vegetation that was here, but he did break down one of the sides to allow for easier access by boat. The side he carved out faced northish towards all of the other known countries, so no boat would have a reason to circle the island. It was a decision that would benefit the merchants and make it easier to defend.

It also meant that my windows faced west, so I could watch the Sun set every day. I couldn't help but see that as a blessing and a curse. Sure not getting the sunrise meant I'd need to put more effort into

waking up in the morning but that wasn't the part I was worried about.

See- The thing is... I have synesthesia (having 2 or more senses overlapping). I see sounds, letters, and numbers as colors and textures. I have it mild enough that I can normally block it out so it's not too distracting (thank God because music is a main stim), but sometimes I'll hear something and get overwhelmed by how it looks.

Each letter and number is a color. So every voice can make every color, but language, pitch, tone, and accent all affect the colors and textures I see from a person's voice like a filter. There have definitely been some people that I struggled to give my full attention to when I first met them because I was entranced by how their voice looked. The more I hear a person's voice the more I'm able to move its visuals to the background so I can focus -desensitizing myself to it.

Luckily, Sinbad's voice is normally not so distracting that I stop paying attention. Since it's like a merger of every voice actor I've heard play him (All the characters I had met so far were like this.) I'm already desensitized. The similarities across all of the VAs meant that his voice looked like a sunset -full of deep purples and magentas, and bright reds, peach, and gold, and with a smooth and flowing texture like painting in acrylic with a wet brush -like a painting of the last moments of a sunset.

His voice was as pretty as he was.

I hadn't actually gotten to see or hear him for a whole day. But I'd get to look at his voice's equivalent every day while living under his protection.

It was frustrating to admit -I barely knew him as a real person- yet I couldn't deny that I missed him. I feel asleep watching the sun set.

((I wasn't going to write about my synesthesia, but this is my fanfic and I thought it might be fun to reference the colors peoples voices make when the characters talk. I'm not going to paint every VA and head cannon, but I will describe them as I go. Ja'far's Japanese and English VAs have voices that look very different so finding the middle ground is proving tricky.

Also, anyone who noticed that the purple I see in Sinbad's voice is the same as the purple I've been using for the illustrations and comics is super smart and cool.))

#magi prophet fanfic #magi fanfiction #magi fanfic #sinbad magi #king sinbad #magi sinbad

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kyberphilosopher · 4 years

Text

Yᴏᴜʀ Qᴜᴇʀᴇɴᴄɪᴀ

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I just want you to be happy.”

Word Count: 2407

Requested: yes, by a drunk anon. they wanted rex to be happy for more than 5 minutes, so this is what i came up with. might go back and edit some more, but to be honest i’m sick of looking at the english language at this point. i hope you like it.

a/n. heavy allusions to sex.

Querencia. (N.)... a place where one feels safe, a place from which one’s strength of character is drawn.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

He had slept with you. He knew that for certain.

Bodies close together, he could remember the heat from it all so clearly. Heat from you, heat from him, heat from the both of you. He could close is his eyes and remember the thin layer of sweat earned from working at you. Rex hadn’t minded the work, though. In fact, he enjoyed it. He reveled in knowing you had enjoyed it as well.

During the act, Rex swore to himself he’d commit every millisecond to memory. He promised he’d think back on your warmth in hard times of battle, that he’d even attempt to see it in dreams. It was just so nice. Better than he’d been able to fathom. But he couldn’t remember if he’d been able to last one long round (which was the more unlikely option), or if he’d gone multiple, short rounds. The sensations were too intense, the arousal too heavy for him to have managed to last the time that it did- but he couldn’t remember.

You’d served together many times, and at no point has Rex heard the noises he’d been able to coax from you. He’d idolized you for your remarkable, Jedi mind. You’d led him and his men to victory on several occasions- sometimes with General Skywalker, sometimes all on your own. It hadn’t been til the Captain happened to look over at you during your first battle together, and immediately desired you.

The way you handled your lightsabers... the fluidity of your movements... Rex found it to be beautiful. He’d seen it before in other Jedi, but this was different. You were... you. And you had made the man restless with lust, overtaken with infatuation and adoration alike. Therefor Rex had fallen into either love or something like it with you, and after a rather annebriated night, he’d gotten what he wanted.

Neither of you were drunk enough to be out of your mind. Rex would never have allowed himself to take advantage of your state, but he was just as tipsy as you were. You’d spent the majority of the time together giggling and telling stories in some neon lighted Coruscant cantina to celebrate a recent victory. General Skywalker had made a rather hollow excuse to slip away to Padmé. Obi-Wan declined the offer and chosen to rest instead. The majority of the 501st had spread itself thin across the planet in search of fun. This left Rex alone with you, General Koon, and a few other soldiers.

Had Rex laughed at your joke first, or had you laughed at his? The liquor had made you feel warm and giddy, and it hadn’t taken awhile before he had held your stare for a little too long. With a few more lines of dialogue exchanged, you’d invited Rex back to your quarters.

“I’ve a few strategies I’d love to talk over with you,” you’d told him. “Just back in the Temple. Come on.”

Rex didn’t need to be told twice. Even if he had wanted to stop himself from following you and your sweet aroma, he couldn’t have. It was too enticing to turn down being alone with you. Jesse had smiled knowingly at him as he left, which somewhat spurred Rex on.

One thing led to another. Rex could only remember how hot you had felt, but not how it had started. He’d worry about recounting that part of his memory later. For the time, he’d focused on melting into you and you alone.

Eventually, the both of you tired out. The Captain would’ve kept going if not for your exhaustion, but he was quick and deciding to let you rest. He followed after you not long after.

In the night, the man woke up out of a sudden fear that it had all been a dream. He bolted upright, skin still glistening from the earlier acts. They’d only been committed approximately three hours ago at this point, but he had to be sure. He knew in the morning you would be gone, but if he could keep you from slipping away now, he would.

The Captain looked over at you. Your hair was spread out across the pillow as your cheek pressed to it. Your lips were parted slightly as you breathed in and out, complimenting the pink dust on your cheeks from the past alcohol and sweat. Your bare back was facing the ceiling, palms lazily spread out as your legs only further tangled themselves in the sheets.

Rex thought you were beautiful, even with a half alarmed, half asleep brain. The acts you had shared had been as true as they come, and so the man knew that for certain. The back of his mind was shouting that it was worse for it to be real- you were a Jedi! You were forbidden from any forms of intimacy! Oh Maker, had he been your first? On top of it all, you were his superior! The level of inappropriateness was insurmountable!

But the Clone decided he’d deal with it at morning. Slowly, as not to wake your divine form, he scooted closer to you. His right hand reached out to pull you towards him with a bit of a roll. Then you collapsed against his broad chest easily, still soundly snoozing away.

Rex kept his arm around you firm. While you were out cold, the city system was wide awake and bustling, and Rex let the distant sounds of wind and speeders alike lull him back into a similar state of sleep.

The man was right, though. You weren’t there when he woke up.

The arm that was so tight around you in sleep was now limp on the bed. He had gone to squeeze it to make sure you hadn’t been taken, only to find air and sheets in your place.

The man’s golden eyes fluttered open slowly, adjusting to the particles of dust he could see in the rising sunlight. Your suite was quiet, and the glass of the window behind him blocked out the noise of the world. Rex rather appreciated things that were soundproof, because sometimes if he closed his eyes for too long, he would remember the noisiness of war.

Your bed was the most comfortable he had ever slept on. Back on Kamino, he and his brothers grew accustomed to sleeping in pods. During times of active duty, he spends most of his nights in a cot, on the floor, or on a slab. But your mattress was firm but soft, able to work out the knots of his back with no trouble at all. The deep red sheets were smooth as silk, with plenty of soft pillows to nestle your head into. Though now, all but two pillows were strewn across the floor.

Rex sat himself up. He took the right side, you took the left. His head rolled over the window that was previously given a view of his back. Floor to ceiling, stretching from wall corner to wall corner. Being an important figure in the Republic certainly had it’s perks, it seemed. Yours was the view. Skyscrapers climbed higher and higher the farther he looked, and all sorts of transports zipped and zapped as they tried to beat the growing sun. The light cast orange shadows into the room, and made Rex’s eyes appear golden.

But despite all this, Rex couldn’t relax. Your leaving before he woke up meant something. It meant you thought the night was a mistake. It meant you didn’t want to see him again. Rex was right for holding you as tightly as he did. At least because of that, he knew it was real.

If you came back to your room, would you throw him out? Would you yell at him? Accuse him of taking advantage of your tipsy state? It was foolish of him to assume he would come close to any semblance, of happiness, wasn’t it? Last night was the closest thing he would ever get, but of course nothing gold can stay.

You would be furious. This makes the Captain sigh and sink further against the board. Of all the foolish people he’d come across- clankers, seppies, fellow brothers- he was the biggest fool of them all.

Silently and slowly, you appear before him. Just at the other end of the room, by a doorway that led to your bathroom. A cream color towel was draped around your form, but it didn’t matter. Rex had already committed you to memory. He could see the dark bruises he’d been nervous about marking you with across your breasts, up your collarbones, and trailing around your neck. The sunlight hadn’t reached you yet, but if it did, you would’ve been just as golden as the Captain’s irises.

“Good morning,” he said with disbelief. His eyes were wide- shocked you were here still. He was glad for it, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be kicked out. His lips were beginning to feel more dry and chapped as his anxiety grew.

You didn’t look furious. “Good morning, Captain,” you said calmly. A shadow of a smile danced on your lips calmly. “I just went to shower. You were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Oh,” Rex said, eyes still wide. “Oh. Right.”

You hold his gaze a second longer before starting towards the window. Your feet patter against your floor. Skin becomes lightened in the sun so you appear to be glowing. Rex can partially see your back, and get a glimpse of a mark he had made on your shoulder blade. He could faintly remember giving that one, but the memory was hot and blurred together by sweat.

You were looking out the window. Observing the metropolitan city before you. Your intelligent eyes were flitting everywhere, working a click a minute. “Do you want breakfast?” you asked, eyes not shifting over to the man until your sentence was done. “We can go out to a diner near here, or I can make something. Not a very good cook, though.”

What? What was this? No yelling. No noticeable anger. You hadn’t immediately told him to leave. You hadn’t woken him up to shout. You were instead asking if the man wanted to stay a while longer with you. This must’ve been a dream. Perhaps Rex had been mistaken, and it actually wasn’t real.

“I don’t understand,” he said aloud.

You flash a quick smirk at him calmly, exhaling as though it were obvious. “Well you must be hungry,” you said. “And I have the credits.”

“You’re not going... to make me leave?”

You turn to him fully. Your eyebrows furrow together softly in a sort of confusion. “Now why would I make you do that?”

Rex’s heart gives a sudden pound. He feels something catch in his throat and his skin grow hot. In contrast, his veins feel cold as ice.

“Rex,” you say softly, almost like a whisper. Your eyes glow, skin covered in all the hickeys he had given on you. “I don’t want you to go.” Then the hand clutching the towel to you tightens and clenches around the knuckles. “Unless you want to go.”

“No,” he says immediately. He sits up straighter, rustling the sheet draped over his legs. Rex’s body is perked up in alarm now, anything to prove your words wrong. “I just thought that you would think last night was a mistake.”

“I don’t think it was a mistake. Do you think last night was a mistake?”

Maker, the way you look at him. “No,” Rex says, completely entranced. “No, General. I don’t think last night was a mistake.”

Your lips curve into a smile. Your eyes are shining. Rex has been a lot of places in his life, with a lot of people. Nothing and no one compares to how beautiful you look right at this moment. Not even the radiating sun or the distant, blinking neon lights.

The hand around your towel loosens enough to make the cloth slip from you. It falls to the floor in a puddle by your feet.

You’re naked again. You’re naked in front of a giant window so anyone flying by could see, but Rex is the only one of them who really matters. He’s important to you. Rex isn’t just a Clone, or a soldier, or the best Captain in the world. He’s not a master of blasters, a drinking buddy, or even a one night stand. He’s a friend, a companion, a lover, even.

He’s taken aback by the revelation. How many people in his life had told him that he hadn’t mattered in the slightest? How many people had made him feel that way? You weren’t one of them. This made Rex feel something more than happiness, which was a bit of a big step for the man. He may have never felt happiness for this long in his entire life.

He deserves it.

Rex climbs out of bed peacefully, not daring to lose eye contact with you. He’s naked too, but all he can think about is you. It’s real. There’s no competition, no way of changing his mind. The normal, raging and torn up storm in his chest is completely obliterated. Replaced instead by something much more calm and welcoming and loving. It’s odd and new to him, but Rex wants to get used to it.

He holds you tight. Not as tight as all those hours ago- there’s no need to now. He knows you won’t disappear because he has your word. Your hands snake around his back, raking over the shadows of scratch marks you’d left the previous night. His thumb smooths over the bruise on your shoulder blade.

He’s taller than you, so it’s easy to rest your head against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat, and he can feel yours. If you stayed like this long enough, they would sync up rather quickly, giving the truthful illusion that they were the same.

So you stood there together, in front of all of Coruscant to see, holding each other tightly as your naked forms melted together, for the second time.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I finished this one quickly, but the english in it was difficult for me. Why is sink and sync spelled differently...? Whatever. Reader has a fire pussy.

Taglist: @omg-we-really-doo @haztory @chokemeanakin @fanficsforheartandsoul @anakinswhore @.drunkanon :) is that everyone?

#rex x reader #rex imagine #rex imagines #captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex imagine #captain rex imagines #star wars the clone wars #star wars x reader #tcw imagines #tcw x reader #captain rex smut #captain rex fluff #captain rex angst

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austarus · 4 years

Text

Harry Wells x Reader Amending Past Actions

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to @moonymartell

*Set Post-s4 but before s6, with the revelation of Harry’s cube message that Cisco and Caitlin had found in s6. I think that makes sense. Anyway, just humor me ok? I miss my grumpy and soft scientist.

Word Count: 3350

“Dad, we can’t just let that meta get away with Syberon Labs’ technoscope.” Jesse spoke in a hushed manner as to not let other wandering ears to hear her their conversation. The undergrad had trailed right behind her father as the taller Wells made his way to his office. Harry pressed his thumb on the fingerprint scan against the wall beside his door, unlocking the system to reveal an intricate pass-code sequence as well. Harry mused to himself that it’s a miracle he managed to re-learn and memorize the security code. The dark-haired man had to ensure that no one except him, you, and Jesse were able to enter his area of isolation and Time Vault if there were to be maliciously rampant around the city like Zoom. The young speedster paused until they had fully entered the office and closed the door. The dimness of the room brightened up due to the motion-sensory had had installed years ago. “We have to let the board understand the amount of damage that meta can cause even if the tech isn’t linked to their powers.”

“Jesse, while I do appreciate that you keep me around for your meta-hero work, in this case my hands are tied. I can’t speak on behalf of the science anymore.” Harry replied as he pulled off his bag from his shoulder to set it beside his desk. Long legs moved to take a seat at his workspace, Harry unbuttoned the black buttons of his suit jacket. He had an earlier demonstration pitch to make with speaking to him in his ear for the science-y parts. The not-so-genius CEO inwardly sighed at the amount of proposals on his desks. “I’m not what I once was.”

“What if you could?”

Blue eyes ceased scanning the stack of papers he held in his hand. Harry gently laid them back down the cool glassy surface. “… What are you saying?”

Jesse took a step forward in front of her father’s desk, taking a breath in to resist the urge to accidentally speed-talk her lightbulb moment whenever she got excited. “What if we enhance your neural firing up to the intricate speed that it was once at in each your nervous cells? Therefore, amplifying your neural functions to compensate for cognition and analytical/systematic processing within certain parts of your brain. We’d also have to certify that other areas of your brain are also matching the same speeds before the Enlightenment accident so that we don’t get an overcompensation of neural stimulation. If we increase the firing rate to the adequate speed without causing your body to overstimulate or overwork itself biochemically then we should be able to get your mind back to what it once was. That means we’d also have to know your body’s precise neural chemical levels to see if we need to inject increments in order to compensate for the firing rate values while balancing the fact that we’d have to scan your brain for any traces of dark matter or sub-particles. I’m sure you’d documented your initial firing rate along everything else before you did the tests on the Cerebral inhibitor back on Earth-1.”

That’s my Jesse Quick. Harry had watched his daughter with wide eyes as she spoke confidently. Pride swelled in his chest even though he found himself nodding to the gibberish that came out of her mouth. I should have been able to understand all of that… “Honey.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you-

“-I love you too, dad-”

“-but, and I can’t believe I’m saying this- but in English, please.” This is probably how Joe feels every time Barry and the others spoke with me about science and physics and all that.

“We’re going to speed up your brain back to what it once was.”

“No.”

Jesse blinked at her father’s sudden response. “What? Why?”

Harry stammered before responding, running a hand through his unusually groomed hair. No longer unruly without the anxiety from problem-solving each meta incident or the next big bad. “I’m not- I can’t do that again. Something’s going to go wrong and… I can’t put you through that like I put (Y/N) and the Team. I lost myself, Jesse. I can’t go through all of that- that helplessness again.” Jesse watched her father with a pained expression before casting it downwards, the subtle guilt of not being at her father’s side when all that had gone down. I could have prevented his pain. Was the one thought that rang within the depths of her mind each day.

“Dad, I refuse to accept the fact that there’s nothing that we can do.”

“Jesse-”

“(Y/N) will even be here to monitor your neural and physiological vitals. She’ll be the green light if things go smoothly.”

“Jesse-”

“Just let me try. I can fix you.”

“Jesse!” Harry slammed a hand down on the desk, the harshness of the impact caused a picture frame to fall and shatter. The older Wells rubbed his face before massaging his temples. Don’t give me hope from what I had sorrowingly lost. “Stop, please. It’s not going to work. I’m fine with everything as it is now.”

“But are you content?” Jesse asked with pleading eyes. Harry looked up at his daughter before tilting his head off to the side. Finally, his gazed locked back on her.

“It’s better than being a blank slate or dead.”

“But are you content, dad?” Jesse asked once more, stepping over to pick up the fallen and cracked picture from. It had been of him and you and Team Flash last Christmas. His first Christmas with them. She handed her father the frame with a sigh. “I’ve seen you… stay up late at night wandering the labs, picking up your old notes, and trying to rework things at home until the early morning. There’s nothing wrong with wanting your intelligence back.”

“My intelligence doesn’t define me, Jesse. You need to understand that. I’m balanced now, that’s good enough for me.” Is it though?

“It doesn’t define you, but it’s something you value, dad. You’re my dad. My badass dad, who fought in the War of the Americas. Who jumped breaches to find a way to save me from Zoom while trying to keep the others safe by dropping hints. Who’s stubborn and prickly but ended up making friends on Earth-1 that you now consider family more than ever and met the one other person you’d sacrifice everything in life for. (Y/N). Your skill, intelligence, and determination brought you up to that point. Brains and brawns always win the fight, brawns can’t do it alone. I just-I just want to make you happy.”

“…”

“Dad, do you trust me?”

“You know I do, Jesse.”

“Then let me try.”

“Okay,” Harry grumbled as he leaned back and cracked his stiff neck, he adorned a serious expression on his face. “But we keep this between us. I’m already receiving backlash from your hero group as it is just being present at my own Labs.”

“Don’t worry about them. Oh, and one thing.”

“Hm?”

“Did you tell Cisco and (Y/N) about my team?”

“Yes?”

“Did Cisco come up with a name? Did (Y/N) approve?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah! So did they?”

“He might have rattled off a few names. One of them was probably Jesse and the Quicksters.”

“Not bad, I like it.”

“Don’t get any ideas.” Harry lightly scolded Jesse, who cheekily grinned at him.

“I won’t, I won’t,” the young speedster observed her father carefully as he moved past her to a desk space. Unlocking it, the Earth-2 Wells pulled out various notes and finals a blueprint model. Jesse padded over to stand across her father as she eyed the papers. “What’s this?”

“These,” Harry started, “are all the notes and things I had with me about the Cerebral Inhibitor. The blueprints are of mine and Cisco’s as well as the ones I snagged from Marlize after she had left the labs, who made readjustments to regain my intelligence.”

Jesse had already picked up the up-to-date notes by Marlize then the blueprints. She wasn’t even going to ask her father why he even had those in his possession because some part of her felt that he had been contemplating this too. “This is some A-class sloppy work, no wonder you weren’t able to fully get everything back.”

“Think you can outdo her.” Harry quirked a playful eyebrow at his daughter, who only returned the gesture. Jesse’s mind already had been making mental notes on the kinds of improvements that needed to be done.

“Hell yeah I can. I’m a Wells after all.” The speedster grinned up at her father, taking a seat on a spare chair and already sifting through the baroque equations and mathematical language.

Nothing lifted Harry’s spirits more than having his daughter beside him, their relation had been sewn back together. Harry left his daughter to jot down and hypothesize the necessary medications needed. Knowing my daughter, she’ll want to create the Cerebral Inhibitor from scratch. Harry took a seat at his desk once more, taking up paper after paper and analyzing the business proposals sent in. He may not have his intelligence anymore, but that does not necessarily mean he can’t run the business side of STAR Labs. Jesse was currently managing the science and analytical research side. But is this really going to work?

***

Harry covered his yawn as he set down the paper packet and pen in hand. Glancing over, he noticed that he had been working away for nearly 3 hours. The war veteran reclined back on his comfy leather chair as he stretched his limbs. His eyes wondered over to Jesse hunched over, speedily working through the notes as sounds of furious scribbling filled the silent void of the office today. With every intention of getting up and taking a walk through the Labs to get the blood flowing, Harry stood up and loosened his collar.

Blue eyes widened as a breach opened. Jesse’s ears had instantly perked up and, like the speedster she is, she raced to be beside her father in a defensive position. Spluttering sounds emitted from the breach as a very disoriented Wolfgang Wells stumbled out and onto the ground. Jesse looked thoroughly confused as did Harry. The doppelganger cowered on the ground in fear as more spluttering sounds signaled another emerging traveler. Harry watched you pop out of the breach.

“Hi,” You sent a friendly wave to your boyfriend and his daughter along with a cute, innocent-looking smile.

“(Y/N)?”

“One sec,” you held out a hand to them before yanking Wolfgang up by the back of his collar with all your might. Instantaneously, you twisted the German man’s arm back tightly behind him and locked Wolfgang in place adorning a threating sort of smile on your face. Harry blinked a few times as to what the hell was going on while Jesse crossed her arms and observed in amusement much to Wolfgang’s chagrin. “Ok, so let’s try this again. What do we saw when we’re wrong about judging others and their misfortune?”

Wolfgang sneered at you when he had tilted his head make eye contact with you, “You’re joking, rechts?” Your smile dropped astonishingly at his response. A darker look in your eyes as you kicked the back of his knee causing the older man to yelp and fall to bend uncomfortably. Harry ‘tch’ed and winced at what he witnessed. Jesse covered her mouth and hid her laughs at your chosen course of action. “It was wrong for me to do that.” Sie wird mich töten!

“And?”

“Und vhat?” You kick the back of his other knee and dug your fingers in the pressure point of his shoulder muscle, allowing the man to succumb on the ground on his knees. He groaned out in pain. “Und I’m sorry for kicking you out of the Council.”

“What. Else.”

“I shouldn’t have laughed at your face for losing your intelligence. It was a horrible thing for me to do. Können Sie mich jetzt gehen lassen?” Bitte, erbarme dich.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You grinned a bit sadistically at him, letting him go and pulling the Breach Extrapolator. Once it was open you grabbed the flinching man and shoved him back into the breach to his Earth.

You turned around and your sweet disposition had returned, sunshine and all. As if the menacing persona you had adorned vanished in a matter of seconds when that breach had closed. Throughout the entire exchange Jesse had spared a glance at her father to literally see him making heart eyes at you and a gentle smile on his face. Harry won’t even deny that your entire gesture had warmed his heart with one thought running through his mind. That’s my wife. That you had gone through the trouble to do all of that for him. Harry’s twinkling eyes never left you and Jesse just rolled her eyes at her dorky father. A smirk had bewitched its way onto his face as he stepped away from his daughter and towards you. You felt heat crawl its way to your cheeks at the hidden look behind his eyes. His arms instantly wrapped around you, holding you tightly to himself as you reciprocated the gesture of affection. You kissed the side of his head, your insides ballooning to maximum capacity.

Pulling away, Harry couldn’t help but tease you, “To what do I owe the great pleasure of Persephone coming all this way to visit my humble abode.”

“I’m so telling Cisco that you’re using his nerdy mythology reference for us.”

“Humor me this one time, will you?”

“You do know that Persephone means Destroyer of Light, right?” You gave him a quirky look, your arms loosely wrapped around him.

“I know, but it seems like the Destroyer of Light has a particular soft spot for a man like me.” Harry just wiggled his eyebrows at you causing the both of you to giggle like dorks. You leaned up and rubbed your nose with his.

“Ugh, you guys are gross. Sickeningly cute, but still gross. Just kiss already so I can give hugs.” Jesse pipped up with a gagging expression. Harry chuckled with pink cheeks and leaned down for a quick kiss, much to your disappointment before Jesse shoved her father away from you. You gave the young speedster the biggest of hugs because you truly did miss her presence and enthusiasm. “(Y/N), that was badass. I didn’t know you could even get that angry. And like, not just anger that my dad normally has when he gets frustrated that something’s not working- silent anger. I’ve been told that’s the worst and most malevolent kind of anger.”

You rubbed the back of your neck when the both of you had turned away, a sheepish laugh falling off your lips. Music to Harry’s ears obviously. “It usually takes a lot to get me that made.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side. I may be a speedster and everything, but ‘hell hath no wrath than a woman scorned’.”

“I don’t think that’s really possible for you to do, Jesse.”

“Jesse?” Harry interrupted before the speedster could go on rattling off, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Yeah?” Her father gave her a pointed look before signaling with his head simultaneously towards the direction of the door. “Right, yes. I have to go… review a few projects for class. 3 Majors and all- Anyway don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and always use protection kids-” You blinked, and Jesse was gone in a flash of yellow-green lightning. Your cheeks as well as Harry’s lit up at her last statement before she left the office.

“Man, I really wish I had superspeed,” you sighed at her rushed exit, leaning into Harry’s side. He rubbed your arm gingerly.

“Really?”

“Well yeah, think of all the things Barry normally gets done.”

“Yet, he still manages to get his ass handed to him by metas. Every time.”

“True.”

You moved your gaze up and locked eyes with those beautiful azure ones. “You breached over just in time.” Harry took your hand gently and brought you over to the couch. The dark-haired man dimmed the lights in the room, mentally knowing that he deserves a break right now and obviously he wasn’t going to waste time working when you’re currently in the same vicinity as him. You sat close to one another, just automatically cuddling together in each other’s arms on the couch-bed. Harry took one of your hands once more and kissed the back of it before moving to peck each fingertip on your hands. You raked your teeth over your bottom lip as you eyed him with a half-lidded gaze. “We need to talk, babe.” He whispered softly.

“You think so? If anything, I also think I came at the right time. I actually get to see you in a suit again.”

Harry paused with a confused look. “You don’t like my usual casual look.”

“No, I do. I love it, really. I’m just…”

“Just?”

“Really I think you’re sexy in a suit but in reality, you’re handsome in literally anything you wear especially when you roll up your sleeves when you work on something and all that jazz.”

Harry blinked a couple of times, trying to process your rapid-fire rambling response. A soft smile graced his face and he shook his head at you. “I assume that my suit shirts will also be on the list of things you steal from me this time around before leaving to Earth-1.”

“I don’t steal. I borrow.”

“Uh huh. Then can you return those sweaters that you borrowed.”

“That depends, will you actually be sleeping over at my place this time around?”

“Well, that depends on what’s in it for me.”

You kissed Harry’s nose before winking at him. “I was thinking of cooking dinner together. Jesse included as well and- I don’t know- go out for a walk in the city and then we can come back home and do stuff…”

“Do stuff?”

You nodded shyly under his smug face, before switching the conversation. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Jesse believes she can fully restore my intelligence. Not just basic necessities to be a functioning and thinking human being.” Harry ran his fingers through your hair. Confusion crossed your features momentarily as you pulled back to fully look at your boyfriend. You opened your mouth, but Harry beat you to it. “Don’t ask me about the details but- She thinks she can speed up my brain to properly retain its normal function. Before Devoe…” Harry trailed off and you saw the pain flash through his eyes.

You took in a breath and contemplated your next words. “If this is what you want, then I will be here. Every step of the way. If Marlize couldn’t do it, Jesse can.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. I believe in Jesse, she’s your daughter after all. Brilliance, character, and tenacity.”

His strong jaw had softened as his lips turned up into a beautiful smile with mesmerizing blue eyes. The sight caused your heart to beat harder in your chest. “You really are the Persephone to my Hades.” You felt jittery under his heated gaze.

“Harry, I would eat as many pomegranates just to stay by your side, oh great kind of the Underworld.”

“Is that your way of saying ‘yes’ if I were to propose?”

You held your breath in the tender moment before breathing out your response. “Yes.”

Blue eyes sparkled at your response. Harry peppered your face with kisses as giggles left your lips and small acts of adoration were exchanged. “Then as long as you’re in my life, I will be content.” You cupped his face and planted a sweet kiss on his anticipating lips. Harry smiled against your mouth and nipped gently at your lips. The tiny dark velvet box didn’t seem to bear as much weight as it initially had a few months ago in Harry’s pocket anymore.

German Translation:

Rechts?- Right?

Sie wird mich töten - She is going to kill me!

Bitte, erbarme dich. – Please, have mercy

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cosmica-candy · 4 years

Text

Chapter two: one pretty fishy

Another chapter written by @mechamastermind with illustrations done by yours truly for our Coraline NSR Au!! I apologize for the lack of illustrations

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING, Abandonment and Neo getting in trouble

Chapter one

Neo was returned back home later as his Daddy grabbed the last of the briefcases, before calling Neo back over.

“Neo! Come on, help me carry Papa’s luggage up to his room!”

Neo was stomping around angry cause of the way his father treated him, he got a proper scolding when he came home just for being over the hill with Yinu, to Neo he was out playing with a friend, but to Neon he was out far past where he could see him, and that demanded a scolding apparently.

Neo kicked his feet through the dry piles of dirt, the terrain so old and worn out that a mini cloud of dust filled the surrounding area, leaving Neo to cough and try to fan away the debris. When the dust settled though Neo looked down and saw a glint in the yard. Buried under the falling dust seemed to be a palm sized metallic object, and Neo's natural curiosity would drive him to pick up said object.

“Neo! Come on!”

He looked closely at the thing in his hands now, pressing a little button at the top as it sprung open, revealing a system of moving gears and clicking springs. A pocket watch. None like Neo had ever seen, it was clearly very old in design yet shiny despite its age. A jade ring around the minute and hour hands, and the X’s in the roman numerals were all made in gold.

“Woah…” neo simply said, before hearing his daddy call out to him a second time.

“Coming daddy!”

Neo pocketed the watch and ran after his daddy following him up the stairs. Neon carrying the big heavy briefcase with all of Nova’s shorts, and Neo carrying the small little snow globe with the solar system in it, gently shaking it as they walked up the creaking stairs, and past bits of wallpaper peeling down like the curled nails of an elderly woman. The second story was so much more quiet than the first, the wind blows outside and into the front door, but once it starts making its way upstairs it stops dead in it's tracks. The insects they refuse to chirp on the second story, instead they do their best to crawl through the walls of the mansion without disturbing a thing. Even the wood of the stairs as they go up begins to silence itself, as creaks become quieter and quieter with each step, until even the wood falls peacefully somber. The second story was so much more quiet, it was certainly peaceful in its own way.

But even silence has its own killer, and does not live forever. As the quiet and dull silence that has draped over the second floor is suddenly cut down in its prime by a deep gutteral animalistic growling, air flowing in and out of a mighty beast. Neo froze when he first heard the hall suddenly filled with the boom of something much larger than him making its presence clear, meanwhile neon had no such fear… as he simply opened up the master bedroom door to reveal the source of sound, being that of a passed out nova face down in the bed, his snores pouring into his pillow and shaking the bedframe.

Neon walked over to the dresser, beginning to unpack the briefcase of shorts he carried, while neo walked to the bedside with his snowglobe in hand. Placing it on the nightstand next to nova, as he turned the key on its side… playing Neo’s favorite tune. Neo looked to his Papa for approval, thinking it might rouse the beast from his slumber. But nova’s eye was still shut even if pointed at Neo… Neo reached up to tug on his papa’s sleeve. Tug tug. He was only responded to with a small groan as Nova laid their still asleep.

“Papa… Can you play yet?” Neo asked, and before he could get his answer Neon scooped him up under his arms and held him to his chest.

“No buts neo… If you want to play with someone so badly, let's go find someone then!”

“No No Neo, let Papa rest, he had a long night driving…”

“But…”

“I…” Neo looked down at his feet, kicking them softly as Neon took him out of this room, and watched the door shut on his sleeping father.

“...Can I go play with Yinu?” He asked,

“Oh neo no one lives around here but us in the mansion… Oh! How about we go meet our new neighbors! I hear there’s a group of young kids!”

“Yinu? I don’t know any Yinu here.”

“Oh! She’s the girl I met in the field!”

Neo pouted once more, he knew of the group his father was talking about, he overheard him talking with papa about the other mansion tenets, the people living on the first floor were a group of college students, still much older than Neo, but comparatively young to Neon. But he was already in daddy’s arms and he couldn’t quite reach the floor anymore, so it was off to meet the neighbors, to his disappointment.

First it was down the stairs, the first floor, past the entry room that led up the stairs to the other tenants. Neon stood in front of the first floor housing, with Neo in his arms. The door was the oldest one in the house, the tenants having done nothing to repair it even as it hung off its hinges. What they did do was manage to carve their initials into the front of it, “D, R, S, T.” there was also a newly installed doorbell made of sleek and shiny plastic, sticking out against the backdrop of the aging house. Neon reached out and pressed the button, making a horribly loud buzzing noise, as both Neon and Neo had a bit of a jump. Neo was set down at the door, as the crashing of foot steps came from behind it, door knob slowly turning, breathing heavy, shadow stretching out underneath the doorframe. Click.

Door swung open, and a tall man with blue skin, covered in large white orbs all across his jacket looked down at Neo, holding all the emotion in his face. For a few seconds there was just silence between Neo and this stranger. Neo’s eyes quickly scanning him up and down as his child mind raced to try and find anything comforting, but he looked so cold, and what didn’t help was the katana strapped to his back, worrying neo even more. The silence finally broken by Neon as he greeted the young man,

“Dodo! How are you?” Neo felt reassured by the sound of his Daddy’s voice, but the blue man would not respond… Neo still felt unnerved by his lack of a smile…

“I wanted my boy to see your fun project! Perhaps you can show him?” Neon said, and this lit up the blue man's eyes, as he looked down at the young neo with a smile of excitement now, he stepped out of the doorway to reveal a hall lined with fish tanks, and at the very end was a door with many flashing colors coming from underneath it. Neo felt his fear all wash away as suddenly he felt at ease seeing the man finally smile, and the beautiful tanks full of fishies behind him. Neon gently pushing him inside as Dodo lead him in.

Neo ran straight up to the fish tanks along the wall, bouncing on his toes with glee. He peered into the glass boxes, and into their bright colorful miniature worlds, each one designed specifically for them. Each one seemed to only hold a single fishy, and it was given the entire tank to play around inside of, filled with glowing castles, divers that created bubbles, and plenty of moving parts to keep the small fishes entertained.

Atop her shoulders in place of a head, there was blue ringed octopus instead, gurgling its tentacles out at neo much to his fright as he leapt like a cat into Mr. Dodo’s arms. The others extremely disappointed as well as their creation turned into a half fish, half human, half octopus monster of legend. So they gave it all a hard reboot, and once it was gone from their sight everyone slowly began to laugh at the experience. The girl in the pink hoodie hanging to Neo a poster, a design of what it was meant to be, and there on that poster was “Sayu”, a pretty mermaid girl with adorable features, bouncy hair, and a fish tail.

Mr. Dodo opened the next door, the sound of music bopping in the background as it led into a backroom, lit only by colorful nontraditional lights, like Christmas lights strung up against the wall, or the dozens of computer monitors sat around a small glowing table. Sitting at that table were three other kids, all college aged roughly the same as Mr. Dodo. There was a larger man in a yellow tee, wearing an umbrella hat. Next to him was a girl in a pink hoodie, her face hidden by her attire as she didn’t look much at Neo. And lastly there was a boy in a plaid shirt and shorts. Each one hunched over a monitor with a piece of recording equipment in front of them, a microphone, drawing tablet, and a simple mouse and keyboard. Everyone's eyes lit up though when neo walked into the room, the boy in the plaid shirt standing up. He began pointing at the others in the room, despite their silence they all seemed to be on the exact same page, they began to work overtime for Neo, as the table in front of them lit up like a mini projector beaming its light upwards at the ceiling. All the other lights were switched down until there was only the glowing of the projector. And suddenly the light began to move and form a shape, starting from the bottom neo watched particles fall together and form a fishy tail, a bright and colorful pattern along its scales, then the middle, the waist was made, the torso and the arms, of a pretty and thin little woman, dainty and elegant her form was, complimenting her bubble gum like skin… Neo was enthralled seeing this amazing light show turn the air into this pretty lady.

At that moment one of the monitors exploded, lights began to flicker, as the rest of the girl was rendered. Poorly.

Neo enjoyed the rest of the hour he spent with the Sayu Crew, even though they did not talk very much at all, they mostly sat around on their devices trying to remake Sayu again and get her modeling correct, occasionally taking breaks to drink sparkling water and stare at the fishes in the tanks for inspiration. Neo’s favorite part was the fish tanks, each fish seemed so happy in that little box, and shined so brightly.

At the end of the hour neon came back around to see a much happier looking Neo being brought out to him with a little mini bottle of lemon sparkling water. Scooping him up under the arms and holding him to his chest, Neon thanked the Sayu crew for their friendliness and carried his boy back outside and down the steps, towards the lower floor now, residing under the house itself.

Neon held neo in his arms, and stood in front of a painted door split down the middle in two coats of paint, on one half was white, and the other half was pink. To Neo the bright colors of the door were slightly alarming, they weren’t gently painted like the rest of the house, they were bright and vibrant, splattered on by paintbrush.

Neon took his hand and pounded it lightly against the door, only to find it slowly creak open…

Neon sat his boy down on his feet, taking his hand as he walked him into the bottom tenants housing, calling out to her.

“Miss Eve? Miss eve? Are you home?”

Neo looked around the hallway they walked in, to see the divots in the walls, and along those divots there rested statues of a woman's head, her skin tone split down the middle, pink and white, long blonde hair, her busts lined the walls.

At the end of the hallway Neon and Neo walked into a large dugout, surrounding this hexagonal room were even more statues of this woman, standing in various positions and holding various objects. And in the middle standing atop a ladder with a chisel and bucket of paint in hand, was the very subject of all these statues, Miss Eve herself. Neo was wandering around the room, excited at all the fresh buckets of paint, as Eve was mindlessly painting her latest statue.

Neo tapped a green paint can, expecting it full but finding it very empty, it shifted off the edge of the desk and fell onto the floor. The sudden sound shifted Eve off her ladder as she took a step off the ladder from surprise. The buckets of paint she was holding in her hands going flying and clattering against the floor completely recoloring the room.

Neon gave his boy a scolding look as neo began to rub his arms. He ran over to help eve up as she seemed quite upset.

“Did you not hear us coming in, eve?”

“Neon could you go fetch me more buckets, they’re in the back room.” Eve asked, Neon nodding as he went and fetched buckets.

“I was in my minds eye…”

She looked over at Neo, frowning at him as he shrunk in on himself…

Eve walking up the step ladder again, but when she walked up the top she looked down at the floor, and saw what the paint cans had fallen into, the paint splattered in a beautiful but completely random pattern, and this put a smile on eve’s face, suddenly from upset to very happy as she looked down at neo now, seeing a tiny artist.

She stepped off the ladder and knelt down in front of the boy with cupped hands against her cheek.

“Well hello there little artist! I’m afraid we didn’t get introduced properly… I’m eve.”

But neo didn’t respond back, he was still startled by the mess he made and worried about the trouble he was in. It was quite clear he was very close to crying… that’s when eve got an idea.

She went over to her fridge and pulled out one of her Artistic Juice boxes, neo’s eyes almost instantly lit up as he saw her pull it out.

She walked back over to him with the juice box in hand, as she looked down at the tiny artist,

“Perhaps you’d like some juice? I find juice helps me when I feel down…”

Neo bounced as he looked at the extremely tall woman with the juice. Reaching up with the grabbiest of hands, clamming up at her wanting the juice already.

She pulled the straw off the back and poked it into the top for him, kneeling down as she handed it off. His eyes sparkling for a moment as he took a long hard sip.

Neon walked back in to see his boy and eve giggling over two juice boxes, their feet covered in paint as they stomped around on the wet floor.

Neon darted over taking neo up into his arms, a mix of frustration and concern.

“Thank you miss eve for your hospitality but I think we must be going now.” Said Neon, as he took away neo and carried him back up to their floor, passing by the other boys as they all walked to their rooms for the night.

Neon set him back down in the kitchen as he sat him against a kitchen chair, pulling his shoes off as they were absolutely covered and ruined with paints.

Neon was upset for sure, so he left neo in the kitchen for a moment, coming back escorting a half asleep Nova into the kitchen, as Neon pointed down at his feet and the shoes on the floor.

“Look what our boy did, his shoes got ruined!” Neon exclaimed, as Nova began to frown at neo… Neo felt a new level of fear he didn’t know he had before… as he watched his large space dad kneel in front of him, picking up one of his shoes and holding it.

“Neo… What were you doing to make your shoes all messy?” Nova asked, as neo couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“I was… painting with miss eve… and stepped in the wet paint…” Nova simply sighed as he shook his head.

“You can’t be ruining your shoes like this Neo… Your father will take you to get new ones in the morning.” He was so stern and direct, and Neo felt his heart sink…

“You mean… you won’t take me, Papa?”

“No Neo, i’ve got work to do.”

“...But I didn’t… get to see you all day…”

Neo felt his little heart twist as he was about ready to cry, he hadn’t spent time with his Papa in days it felt like, and it was just too much for him to handle… He tilted his head down as a few tears began to roll down his cheeks, hidden to both of his father’s… as nova simply turned away and went back to bed.

Neo felt the tears burst like dams holding back too much water, as Nova leaving felt like the last straw. He hopped off his chair with one arm covering his eyes, darting past Neon who was too slow to catch him. Neo ran to his room, eyes tucked into his elbow soaking his sleeve as Neon stood back and just watched him run, gently sighing as he felt pain in his heart as well…

Neo leapt into his bed, boxes upon boxes of unpacked toys and clothes stacked to adult height levels in his room, the only thing he had ready for him was a blanket and pillow, of which he held onto tightly as he poured the rest of his tears into it…

Minutes and one tear stained pillow later, neo was laying there clutching onto it still, as his sobbing turned to sniffling and all he could do was look at his door, wishing, waiting, hoping that maybe Papa would come back and apologize, and tell him they’ll look at the stars again together…

Neo ended up staring at the door for hours.

Waiting.

He fell asleep waiting.

Another time, another place… large fingers, massive like loaves of bread descended down carefully against a workshop desk. Atop this desk laid a small mouse, as if disassembled of all it's parts. One by one the pieces were picked up, cogs and gears, springs and levers, in such massive hands carefully putting it back together again. The eyes put back into place, a tail reattached. But when all the pieces came back together it looked like any other mouse, just with a small keyhole in its back. It was missing the final touch. The massive hands reached into the desk, pulling open the large drawer to reveal a collection of hundreds of keys, various shapes and sizes, materials and textures. It hovered over the pearl section for the longest time, sometimes switching back and forth between it and the silver keys… but ultimately deciding on the bronze keys, picking one up and rubbing it in oil and wiping it clean with a delicate rag, before slowly pushing it into the back of the mouse. Locking into place as it turned the key several times, winding up now…

The mouse sprung to life as soon as the hands let go, scurrying across the desk before leaping into a grandfather clock and disappearing.

“You’re coming home soon, neo.”

Chapter three

#nsr #no straight roads #cora au #neon j #dj subatomic supernova #neo

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calligraphist-artemisia · 3 years

Text

Soul of a Lion

Sequel to The Smallest Blade.

Summary: After the Red Lion steals them away from the Marmora base and takes them through a wormhole, Shiro, Keith, Katla, and Lance find themselves in front of a majestic castle with nowhere to go but inside. The events that unfold while they're there will change the fate of the universe.

Also posted on AO3 under the username “kishirokitsune”.

Happy New Year, everyone! I figured there was no better way to start out 2021 than by posting the first chapter of a new fic! I hope everyone enjoys it.

☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆ - ☆

1 | The Red Lion

Keith tightly gripped the controls, trying his best to redirect the Red Lion away from the glowing vortex, but she didn't respond no matter what he tried. He sent up a silent prayer that they weren't being dragged into immediate danger and then had to tightly shut his eyes against the intensity of the light. It only took a second and then they broke through the other side and he was able to open his eyes again.

“Where are we?” Katla asked, her voice close to him. He glanced to his left as she released her grasp on the back of his seat so she could step forward and get a better look at the navigation system. “Wait... but this is the Javeeno Star System. It should have taken us movements to get here!”

“Instantaneous transport. I know some of our brightest scientists and engineers have been working on it, but none of them have even come close. Not even the empire has been able to replicate the technology that allowed Alteans to travel so quickly, so how did we manage it?” Shiro asked, mostly to himself.

Katla was quick with a suggestion. “The Lion?”

“You think it could have been storing the energy until the right moment?”

While Shiro and Katla debated exactly how they were able to travel so quickly, Keith took his hands off of the controls and turned his attention to Lance instead. The Altean stood off by himself, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the floor, clearly upset about something. Keith assumed it had something to do with the fact that he tried to take off with the Lion on his own.

He wanted to be angry. Furious. But the fire in his veins ebbed away the longer Keith watched Lance. Even after the years the Altean had spent with them, there were still times when he didn't know what to make of Lance. There was something about him that rubbed Keith the wrong way. He was just... obnoxious.

But Keith couldn't deny that he was a good friend and whatever was happening with the Red Lion wasn't his fault, no matter how much Keith wanted to place the blame on him.

“What do you think about all of this, Lance?” he asked.

Lance looked surprised to be addressed, especially by Keith. “Me? I- I don't know about any of this! I swear, Keith!”

“I wasn't accusing you of anything, I just wanted to know what you think!” Keith snapped back.

“Well, you're the one who bonded with this thing! You'd know better than any of us!” Lance exclaimed.

“Forget it!” Keith grit his teeth and turned away from the Altean. Why did he even bother? He focused instead on the screen and the readouts the Lion was giving them. They were rapidly approaching a small, blue-and-green planet which had breathable air and a plethora of plant and animal life. According to what he read, the name of the planet was Arus and the beings who lived there were simply known as the Arusians.

The only thing that made him worry was the fact that the Javeeno Star System was the territory of a fearsome Galra general named Sendak, who was as ruthless as he was loyal to Emperor Zarkon. If they were caught by him or any of his men, he wasn't sure they would make it out alive.

They would have to tread carefully.

“Why have you brought us here?” Keith quietly asked the Lion.

The Red Lion answered with a roar as they broke the atmosphere, rapidly coming in for a landing on top of some cliffs bordering one of the oceans. As they grew closer, the air rippled in front of them and Keith could make out a grid-like pattern resembling a particle barrier. Before he could shout a warning, the barrier split open and revealed a massive white castle perched on the highest plateau. They easily passed through and it closed behind them.

“They've reworked their particle barrier into adaptive camouflage! How cool is that!” Katla squealed in excitement. “I've always wondered if it would be possible to use the electromagnetic radiation emitted by a barrier in conjunction with metamaterials built into the foundation of a ship in order to achieve some sort of invisibility in flight and this might prove that theory! I have to know how it works!”

“You just might get that chance,” Shiro told her as they landed just outside the massive main door.

The lighting in the cockpit went dim as the Red Lion landed and then went perfectly still, clearly indicating that they should all disembark and go into the castle. Shiro reached out and grabbed Katla's arm when she attempted to be the first one off, gently guiding her back into Keith's arms so he could take her place and lead the younger cubs (plus Lance) out of the Lion and into unfamiliar territory.

Katla calmed once they were on solid ground, her excitement over new tech tempered by the fact that they had no idea what they were about to face once they were inside. She easily fell into step alongside Keith, one hand in his while the other was loose at her side, ready to grab her blade if the situation called for it. Keith was much the same, though he was less subtle about the way his hand kept straying towards his knife.

Lance fell somewhere in the middle of their group, weaponless but no less alert to the potential of danger. He stuck a little closer to Shiro as they walked towards the massive main door. They all slowed as they drew close, unsure of how they would get in.

The Red Lion let out a roar that shook the ground with its intensity, which caused all of them to flinch and look around in suspicion. The only thing that happened was that the door opened to allow them inside.

“What is this place?” Katla wondered out loud, craning her head back to try and take in the entire structure. “The architecture... I've never seen anything like it! I wonder who built it.”

“Alteans,” Lance muttered in a surprisingly bitter tone. As if in response to his emotions, the purple of his disguised appearance shifted to a shade closer to blue, serving to better hide the markings high on his cheeks.

Shiro chanced one curious glance back at the only non-Galra of their group. “Anything we need to worry about?”

Lance shrugged.

“Maybe the Lion disabled any sort of security when it brought us here?” Katla suggested.

“Stay alert anyway,” Shiro instructed. “Basic infiltration protocol. Anything happens, find your way back to the Lion. Lance, stay with me.”

Everyone agreed to his commands and then they walked inside. The tick they stepped through the door, the lights of the grand entryway lit up around them, illuminating white floors and walls, all of which had a thin layer of dust coating it and turning it gray. As they walked farther into the castle, the blue lights of a hallway to the left began to flicker to life as though the castle was trying to guide them to where they were needed.

Shiro followed the lights.

There was no sign of life that any of them could tell, though they passed by a number of closed doors along the way.

“It's strange that there isn't more security,” Keith mentioned.

“I guess they're counting on the barrier to keep out any intruders. And like I said before, it could be that the Lion was able to disable whatever security they did have in place,” Katla said.

Keith vaguely gestured down the long hallway with his free hand. “There aren't any cameras. Nothing to suggest any type of surveillance or space for drones to hide until they're activated. None of the doors are reinforced with pin codes. If we wanted to detour, I bet they'd open just by one of us pressing our hands to the panel.”

“I'd rather not test that theory,” Shiro spoke up.

Keith dropped his hand back to his side. “My point is this ship isn't fortified for battle. I'd argue that the barrier is its sole defense.”

“It must have a way of quickly getting out of range of any attack. Maybe it's really fast?” Katla suggested. “Or... Well, the Red Lion brought us here. Maybe that's part of the castle defense as well.”

“If that were the case, then she should have been here and not back on Venadh,” Keith argued.

Katla inclined her head, conceding to his point. “Okay, so the barrier is the primary defense and there doesn't appear to be any internal security. This definitely isn't an Altean warship, which means it must have been used for exploration or maybe as a headquarters of some sort? I just don't see why the Red Lion brought us here if it wasn't important.”

Lance kept his silence throughout their discussion, adding none of his own thoughts or opinions. No one tried to force him to speak when it was clear there was something about the castle that was bothering him.

The debate ended abruptly when they arrived at the end of the hall and the doors slid open to admit them into a strange round room. There was a podium near the center and six circular indents in the ground.

Shiro took a single step into the room and there was a hissing sound as three of the indents cracked down the middle and then opened. Slowly, three cylindrical pods rose from their hiding spot in the floor until they clicked into place. Through the semi-translucent glass, they could make out three bipedal figures.

“Healing pods,” Keith murmured in recognition. “They're different from the ones back on base.”

Katla tried to walk closer to the pods for a better look, but Keith tugged her back to his side.

“We don't know who's in there,” he admonished.

Katla rolled her eyes but didn't make a second attempt. “We won't find out anything if we don't investigate. Besides, this is an Altean castle which means they're probably Altean.” She paused a moment as her brain caught up with her mouth and she quickly turned to Lance, a new question poised on her lips.

Her words died as Lance stepped forward with an unreadable expression on his face and pressed one palm against the tank.

There was a hissing sound as the pod farthest from them suddenly released a frigid fog, the doors peeling open to reveal a young woman with silvery-white hair. She remained upright for a moment before she lurched forward with a harsh gasp.

“Father!”

She stretched out one hand and stepped down jarringly hard with her right leg, managing to stand for less than a tick before her knees gave out and she folded weakly to the floor.

Shiro, despite all of his warnings of caution to the others, was unable to resist walking over to help someone who was in need of it. He stopped a short distance away from her and held out his hand. “Miss, are you alright?”

The Altean woman tensed and slowly turned to face Shiro, her apparent shock rapidly giving way to fear and then anger. Shiro barely had time to react before she was on her feet and unsheathing a small dagger from the folds of her dress, which she held protectively in front of her.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “How did you get on this ship? What have you done with my father?”

Shiro held up both hands placatingly and took a step back, doing his best to appear as non-threatening as possible. “I'm Shiro and we were all brought here by a Red Lion. We haven't seen anyone else on your ship, but your father could be in one of these pods.”

She didn't take her eyes off of Shiro. “Why should I trust a word that you say? You're Galra!”

“You asked,” Keith muttered barely loud enough for Katla to hear.

And then a second pod cracked open and released a cloud of freezing fog and the mustachioed Altean who sprang forth only added to the tension by attempting to attack Shiro with a loud battle-cry. Shiro side-stepped him with a bemused expression.

When Keith tried to jump in and help, it was Katla's turn to hold him back and stop him from getting into trouble.

“Enough!” Shiro commanded. “We're not any happier to be here than you are in having us here, so if you could stop for a tick maybe we can figure out why the Red Lion brought us here and how we're meant to leave.”

The male Altean froze in the middle of preparing for another attack, his face rapidly paling. “The Red...? You're lying!”

Keith bristled in Shiro's defense. “Why would we lie about that?”

“You're trying to trick us into letting our guard down! Well, I won't fall for it this time!”

“No one is trying to trick anyone,” Shiro loudly cut in, giving Keith a look warning him not to speak again. “Just calm down so we can talk this through. No more arguing. No trying to attack one another. None of us are happy about this situation, so lets take a moment to calm down and try to tackle this reasonably.”

Silence followed in the wake of Shiro's words.

The Altean woman glared at him for a moment, conveying her continued anger without saying a word, before turning so quickly on her heel that her hair fanned out around her and brushed against Shiro's closest arm. She strode over to a podium and began pressing keys on the surface, causing a holographic screen to rise up and illuminate with data in an unfamiliar script.

Shiro could see Katla trying to move so she could get a better look at the tech and was relieved when Keith kept her in place. A quick glanced at Lance let him know that their disguised Altean was behaving himself and appeared to be doing whatever he could to avoid drawing unwanted attention.

The less they aggravated theirs hosts, the better.

It was as the Altean woman let out a loud gasp of shock that the third and final pod opened. The Altean within was heavyset, with dark skin and nearly golden markings painting his upper cheeks. He lurched forward and caught himself on the sides of the pod, closing his eyes as he took a moment to reorient himself.

“...Princess, what is it?” asked the mustachioed Altean after a moment of hesitation, his attention torn between his two companions.

“Coran, I...” She trailed off, her voice trembling as she stared in horror at the screen. “We've been in there for nearly ten-thousand decaphoebs. We've missed so much! Everything... everything is gone! I don't understand how this is possible. What happened to the fail-safes? How were we in the cryo-pods for that long?”

Coran looked uneasy as he joined her at the podium, sharp blue eyes scanning the screen. “I wish I could say, Princess.” He turned his head towards the Altean who was still standing in one of the pods. “Hunk, could you take a look?”

Shiro recognized the exact moment the Altean – evidently named “Hunk” – fully took note of the people around him. Eyes widened, his grip tightened, and breathing quickened.

And then, miraculously, he visibily relaxed.

“You found a Lion?” Hunk asked, his voice a curious whisper.

The Princess whipped her head up. “Impossible. They must be lying.”

“We're not-!” Keith's heated words came to a swift end thanks to Katla's elbow to his side.

Hunk seemed perfectly okay with ignoring his princess and instead continued to speak to Shiro, who was the closest to him. “We wouldn't be awake if you weren't brought here by one of the Lions. It's the only possible way you could have gotten through the barrier without breaking it and setting off a full lockdown. His Majesty made sure of that.”

It was a simple explanation, but more importantly it told Shiro that there was at least one of them who would be willing to hear them out instead of outright dismissing their words.

Shiro figured the best place to start was with introductions.

“I'm Shirotak,” he said, giving Hunk a slight bow. “Those two are Katla and Keith. Behind me is Lance.”

Hunk offered up a tremulous smile and a bow in return, quickly stumbling through his own introductions and finally giving up the name of the princess, who was called Allura. It was to her that he turned when he finished speaking. “Princess, maybe we should go somewhere and talk about this?”

“Yes...” she agreed, clearly reluctant. “I think that would be for the best.”

#voltron #fanfiction #kidge #kidgemas #half galra pidge #half galra keith #galra shiro #altean lance #altean hunk #Soul of a Lion

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Take You for a Ride (Crystal x Gigi) - Catrina

A/N: hi! it’s been a long while since i posted here. my mental health had a lot to do with that, but here i am again, hopefully as a better writter lmao. apparently i’m obsessed with gigi and crystal and since it’s still crystal’s birthday here i wrote this inspired by dua lipa’s levitating (thanks gigi’s performance at wtw tour). hope you enjoy it and share your thoughts with me. thanks for reading!

Summary: It’s Crystal’s birthday, and nothing comes out as she expects.

Disappointment. That’s the definition of Crystal’s day.

Disappointment and alcohol… maybe some red velvet cake Jan bought for her. She tastes the bitter liquid and sweet frosting in her mouth as she stumbles in her way to the backyard of Jaida’s house.

She’s sick. Sick and tired, of both the party behind her and her day in general. It had really worn her off, first with her teacher grading her project with a humiliating score of 67 points out of 100, then the ridiculous fight with her mother over the phone (she can still listen to the woman screaming at her if she focuses enough) and her cat destroying her One Direction album with her small and deathly paws, and now — oh fucking now, with some idiot pouring their drink all over her dress in a party that she didn’t even want to attend, or happen for that matter.

This isn’t how her birthday is supposed to be. This isn’t even how any birthday is supposed to be, in fact. Crystal doesn’t get how Jan could get to the conclusion that a party at Jaida’s house would make her feel better.

“It’ll be fun!” Jan had said. “You deserve to celebrate your birthday. I’m sure it’ll improve your mood!”

Spoiler: it didn’t.

Crystal feels just as miserable as she would feel in her dorm. Being in bed and watching bad tv was her original plan for today. Was too much to ask for? Why did she let her friends drag her to a party full of people she doesn’t even know?

Right, because Jan and Jaida had made her puppy eyes and Crystal felt terrible for rejecting such a gentle and thoughtful gesture from her friends.

She groans, sitting down on the grass of Jaida’s backyard and rubbing a tissue over the huge stain in the blue fabric of the area over her chest, groaning again when she realizes the stain isn’t moving at all.

Perhaps more miserable.

It’s a sequin blue dress she had purchased a while ago. It wasn’t really expensive, and it isn’t even her favorite, but fuck, it hurts. It’s like today everything in the universe accorded to make her feel terrible. She usually would shrug it off and continue as if nothing has happened, and she can’t quite understand why her natural sense of positivity can’t wash the sadness away.

Giving up, she tosses the tissue to a side and lets the upper part of her body give up to lie down completely on the grass. She’s lucky everyone else is inside, enjoying the music so loud it makes the whole house pound in rhythm, the intermittent lights that must hurt their eyes, the colorful drinks served by Jan and the closeness of dancing bodies rubbing against each other, so she doesn’t have to worry about someone going out and seeing her throwing a tantrum.

The party is a success. She shouldn’t ruin it with her bitter existence.

The sky is quiet tonight, with some stray stars and the moon shining bright. It makes Crystal breathe heavily, over and over again, until she’s sure she’ll be okay.

But, as her breathing regulates, imagines of every earlier moment when she felt everything but okay flash through her mind, and her lungs are not cooperating anymore.

Her heart feels heavy, stupidly hurt. She knows tomorrow her terrible grade will still be there, and her mother will still be pissed at her for whatever she even got mad about, and her favorite album will remained ruined and her fucking dress won’t be wearable anymore, and it’s fine, because she can make work for extra points to improve her final grade and text her mom an apology and replace the material stuff that isn’t even that important whatsoever, but that won’t help her stop feeling so helpless.

Helpless — that’s a good definition for her.

“Crystal?”

Gigi Goode looking down at Crystal interrupts her pathetic thoughts.

More than the interruption, her mere presence is what makes Crystal blink twice and wonder, for a brief moment, if she fell asleep on Jaida’s backyard grass and she’s dreaming.

She’s used to see Gigi everyday, but since today has been a short taste of hell, it wasn’t surprising when Gigi texted her to say she had to miss part of her classes and Jaida’s party because she needed to find someone to fix the broken temperature system in her apartment.

She hasn’t come to terms of how she feels about Gigi yet, and it’s not something she would like to do at all. For the past two months, Crystal has noticed the way her heart starts pounding violently in her chest when Gigi smiles at her, or takes her hand to lead her through the corridors or when she simply looks at her with those big eyes full of emotion and it’s ridiculous but somehow fitting that the only person she craved to see today was the one she couldn’t.

“What are you doing here?” Gigi tries again at her lack of response, not hesitating to offer her hand to help her up.

Crystal takes her hand without thinking (she doesn’t do a lot of thinking in Gigi’s presence) and lets her pull her up in a sitting position.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking what are you doing here? I thought said your temperature system was giving trouble.”

Gigi chuckles, crouching to be at the same height as her.

“Well, I really wanted to come and Heidi said she could manage it. The girl knows about mechanics, did you know that?”

Crystal shakes her head, breathing out a laugh. “I never would’ve guessed.”

Gigi hums thoughtfully. “Well, she does, thank fuck, because I really wanted to see you, birthday girl.”

Heat creeps up to Crystal’s face incredibly fast, leaving her cursing the power something so small can have over her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I asked Jan where you were, actually. She said some dickhead poured all his drink on you and you were probably in the bathroom but you weren’t there.”

Crystal opens her mouth to vent about her now ruined dress, frowning as soon as a different thought crosses her mind. “But there are like five bathrooms here. You went all around the house looking for me?”

Confused, Gigi nods. “Is that weird?”

It’s extremely sweet, is Crystal’s first answer.

“No, of course not,” she giggles instead. “But why were you looking for me?”

Gigi looks suddenly flushed, as if she was caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“Well, I…” she tears her eyes away from Crystal to look at the party behind her through the glass doors. “What happened to you?”

The change of topic takes Crystal aback.

“What? What about me?”

“Yeah, you’re here all alone, looking like a child who dropped their candy, when you’re usually a little happy ball, and in your birthday,” Gigi remarks, although not harshly. “Had a bad day?”

Crystal hates this how easy is for Gigi to read her. She knows she looks terrible, beside her dress the signals of her terrible day surely mark her face in dark bags under her eyes and pale tired skin, but Gigi has always had a talent to read her beyond that. The simple fact makes her feel even more embarrassed.

“A horrible one,” she finally confesses in a low whine. “A straight up disgusting, draining, fucked up, impossible day! And, I know I shouldn’t feel so pressed about it, but birthdays are supposed to be happy and I — I am not. At least not now.”

Gigi snickers, taking Crystal’s hand in her own to give it an affectionate squeeze.

“It’s okay to have bad days. Now, to have a bad birthday is really fucked up, but it is what it is. Wanna tell me about it?”

“I’m not really in the mood of talking about me being mediocre in life,” Crystal means to joke more than to actually vent, and she loves the way Gigi giggles.

“Dramatic much?”

“Oh,” Crystal’s eyebrows raise as she laughs. “I can be more dramatic.”

But Gigi doesn’t laugh along this time. She purses her lips, and then stands up, offering her hand to Crystal again.

“Let’s go.”

Crystal looks puzzled. She takes Gigi’s hand, allowing her to pull her back on her feet. With her hand still covered by the other girl’s, Gigi begins dragging her back to the house.

“Where are we going?”

“Let’s go for a ride,” Gigi suggests, looking back over her shoulder just to give her a smile that reassures everything.

In the middle of the dark since the backyard lights don’t reach there, the path changes; Gigi takes Crystal through a small hallway that connects the porch with the patio to the front of the house. They meet a few people in the way; some passed out on the ground, others drinking in their friends and some couples making out. Crystal turns to watch them before she realizes they’re crossing the garden.

“Gigi,” she breathes as she spots the motorbike parked on the sidewalk.

The blonde reaches in the pocket of her jacket, her hand still on Crystal’s. She finally pulls out her keys and twirls them on a finger.

“Every time I’m sad, or mad… or high,” she grimaces and Crystal laughs, “I get on this thing and ride away. It usually works to clear my mind and calm me down, so I thought it could work on you too.”

Crystal feels something very close to gratitude. Instead, she knows it’s pure adoration for one called Gigi Goode.

“Okay,” excitement starts filling her face as she smiles. “Oh my god, I’ve never been close to a motorcycle before, wow!”

Gigi laughs, rolling her eyes. “You’ve literally seen it everywhere with me.”

“I know, but—” she eagerly motions to Gigi and then to the motorcycle. “I always see it as, I dunno, part of you. Like, yeah, there’s Gigi and her bike, you know? I’ve never seen it up close.”

Gigi’s light hearted laugh is the answer she receives again. “Well, now is your chance.”

The motorcycle shines in its black neat color, with not a single particle of dust on it or sign of being neglected; Gigi’s perfectionist personality reflecting. Crystal finds herself so absorbed by its beauty that she doesn’t realize when Gigi lets go of her hand and gets on the bike, using her legs to adjust herself as she takes the two helmets from the space behind her on the seat to make room for Crystal.

She reaches forward to pull the key in the ignition, and it only takes a firm move from her hand for the motor to start growling. The sound makes Crystal gasp.

“You think you can get on? I don’t want you to fall,” Gigi warns, but Crystal is already jumping behind her.

Of course, the gravity plays a cruel trick and she has to grab onto Gigi’s jacket to prevent her from sliding off, but Gigi doesn’t seem to care as she snuggles closer. She offers one of the helmets to Crystal, smiling.

“Safety first.”

“This is so pretty,” she drawls, passing her fingers over the shiny, baby pink surface of the helmet.

“Thanks. Heidi suggested me to get it customized that way,” Gigi comments as she puts her own helmet, of a white color, on. “She’s pretty much the only person who I give a ride, so I thought, why not?”

A tinge of jealousy pops in Crystal’s chest, but she forces herself to ignore it as she notices Gigi reaching over the hand grips, preparing herself to move. She rushes to put the helmet on and forces the image of Heidi taking her spot behind Gigi to fade away.

“You’ll probably resent the motion, so please hug my waist as hard as you can and hold your legs onto the sides of the seat,” says Gigi, so easily it makes Crystal think it’s something she has memorized. “I’ll go slowly anyway, since it’s your first time.”

Crystal complies immediately; she wraps her arms around Gigi’s waist and the stupid butterflies in her stomach seem to fly all the way up to her throat, suffocating her for a second, until she realizes it’s just Gigi’s perfume.

Fuck, she thinks bitterly. She smells really good.

The short heel of Gigi’s boot kicks on something at the same time she rotates the key one more time, and the motor growls fiercely.

They start moving — it’s almost magical. At first, Crystal can’t really feel it. It starts as such a gentle motion, but when she looks around, she sees Jaida’s house becoming smaller and smaller in the distance, and the houses around moving around them. That’s when it hits her; they’re moving.

Gigi speeds up once they’re out of the block, turning on the left and then right and moving smoothly until they’re exiting the neighborhood, but Crystal doesn’t mind in following their path.

She’s too busy giggling at the wind hitting her face and making her hair twirl, creating ginger waves at the sides of her head.

The world around them is moving so fast, and all she can recognize in the city at night are deformed street lights and bright colors everywhere she looks at; everything seems so distant but so close at the same time as they slide on the asphalt, and the late life of Los Angeles never looked so appealing.

Nothing seems important now. Her grade, the fight with her mother, her album nor her fucking dress. Her mind is full of Gigi; of her beautiful hair, her endearing voice, her flawless face and how soft she feels under Crystal’s hands; almost as if she belongs there, in her arms.

If Crystal wasn’t starting to feel dizzy for the speed, she would probably never think such a thing; her feelings for Gigi are something unexplored and feared, threatening to destroy their friendship because Gigi is everything and Crystal is barely something that exists. And Crystal isn’t ready to lose her.

It’s the little things, like the fact she went all around the house looking for Crystal or that she even wanted to see her, that she thought of a way to cheer her up, that make Crystal’s stomach coil and tie itself in a too tight knot that won’t probably never be the same. Gigi has some kind of security aura around her that, as Crystal learned, was impossible to ignore. She’s confident, sure, but there’s something more to that attitude; something that demands to be trusted under that bitch façade. She’s kind and loving and funny, and if Crystal has to swallow her feelings to make sure Gigi is always at her side, then she will.

As they speed up into a steady pace, Crystal notices how Gigi relaxes and leans back into her just a little, and without a second thought she leans on her as well.

“You okay back there?” Gigi asks, voice muffed by the violent wind and motor growling under them.

“Yeah!” Crystal exclaims. “Oh my god, Gigi! This is amazing!”

“Wait until you see this!”

Crystal is about to ask what she means, when they turn into an empty street, where a tunnel leans out. There are no more cars or motorcycles around them and Gigi speeds up even more as they approach the tunnel, lights flying around them.

A raw “puff!” echoes in their ears as they storm into the tunnel, and Crystal laughs as she feels the force the motorcycle is traveling through it. She feels light, like the butterflies flying around her stomach, levitating at the right speed and watching the world around them as secondary.

Gigi starts slowing down at the middle of the tunnel.

“Hold your arms up,” she tells Crystal, eyes locked at the front. “Just for a second, so you can feel the wind.”

At first Crystal hesitates, but the speed is steady and there are no more vehicles around, so she slowly pulls her arms away from Gigi.

She raises both arms, wriggling them at her sides. She makes a quick mental note to remind herself to thank Gigi later, because the air hugs her limbs in a way that almost tickles her, the soft touch running on her naked arms and she closes her eyes for a moment, wondering if she could fall asleep like this.

Of course, when the motorcycle runs over a bump and she has to hold on Gigi’s torso to avoid jumping out of the seat, that idea is quickly denied.

“Oh, right,” Gigi laughs. “I should’ve warned you about that.”

Crystal huffs, sleep knocked out of her as they leave the tunnel behind.

The rest of the way is calm; Gigi decides to go slow this time, so Crystal has the chance to see everything in a clear way (according to her, it’s very important to appreciate the view) and Crystal takes the moment to rest her chin on Gigi’s shoulder and wrap her arms around her middle, just like before, but this time without the messy rush of fearing being thrown out of the motorcycle by a bump.

The proceed to threat a way through town messily, going around buildings and onto streets Crystal doesn’t even know, but Gigi moves skillfully, like she knows exactly where she’s going, and Crystal trusts her. Soon she noticed that Gigi actually knows where they going.

She recognizes her surroundings as they approach the apartment complex where Gigi and Heidi live. She’s always complained saying that her place is small, but the few times Crystal has come over, she’s loved the cozy feeling that takes over her as soon as she crosses the door, which makes her feel even more excited.

Gigi parks carefully on a spot near the front gates. She pulls the key out and the motor shuts down, as she leans back with a pleased smile.

“I didn’t ask you if you wanted to come here, but I thought you didn’t want to go back,” she whispers, barely having to turn around to see Crystal’s face resting on her shoulder blade.

“You thought correctly,” Crystal sighs with content before a thought crosses her mind, making her gasp. “Shit, I gave Jan my phone before going out—”

Gigi reaches on the inside pocket of her jacket, pulling out Crystal’s phone.

“She gave it to me when I asked for you,” she explains to a stunned Crystal. “She thought we would leave together eventually.”

“How smart,” Crystal mumbles.

She unlocks it while Gigi takes her helmet off, noticing the time; almost two in the morning. She tugs on Gigi’s sleeve, pointing at the screen.

“It’s late, won’t Heidi be pissed if we come in? She could be sleeping.”

“The girl wouldn’t wake up even if a rock fell in her head,” Gigi rolls her eyes, gesturing for Crystal to take her helmet off as well. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Crystal shrugs as she does so, too wrapped in the thought of spending more time with Gigi to care. She gets back on her feet with a little jump, following her inside the building as they carry the helmets with them. Gigi talks about her day while they’re making their way to the third floor through the stairs, blame the elevator that never came back to the lobby, by Crystal’s request. She wanted to know how she had been doing while she was miserable, and Gigi complies, walking through the empty building.

“I noticed this temperature thing was broken because, c’mon, California will never be hot enough to make fucking ice cream almost boil,” she says just when they walk into the right corridor, Crystal trailing behind her. “It was a nightmare, everything was so fucking hot. I hope Heidi could fix it.”

The metal of her keys knocking makes the only sound that fills the air as Gigi opens the door. She reaches for the switch and the small living room lights up, cool air receiving them.

“She fixed it,” Crystal muses, smiling.

“God bless her,” Gigi sighs, taking off her boots. “Could you leave your shoes by the door and the helmet over the coffee table please?”

Crystal steps on the soft carpet on her short blue socks, watching as Gigi makes her way to Heidi’s bedroom door. She opens it just enough to poke her head inside. After exchanging a few words with her roommate, she turned back to Crystal, closing the door behind her.

“Heidi was just going to sleep.”

“Oh,” Crystal’s eyebrows raise. “Tell her hi?”

“I’m not sure she’ll appreciate me bothering her again,” she giggles. Her mouth opens again, but she closes it seconds after, thinking for a second on what to say. Finally, she gestures at the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”

The apartment is small, Gigi’s right. The living room has barely enough space for a couch and a coffee table and is too close to the kitchen. The bathroom is that white door carelessly next to the television hanging on the wall, and Crystal bets Gigi and Heidi’s rooms are just as small, although she has never seen them. The few times she has been there, with Jaida and Jan, they simply preferred to stick to the couch and a barstool they would drag from the kitchen.

Gigi’s room suddenly becomes source of her curiosity, but she nods, remembering Gigi’s question.

“We’ve got a great menu tonight, in honor of your birthday,” Gigi hums as Crystal sits on one of the stools of the kitchen bar. She opens the fridge, eyeing the content blocked to Crystal’s view by the fridge door. “We have… well, we’ve got beer, and pretty much nothing else.”

Crystal laughs. “Beer! Just what I wanted!”

Gigi is beaming under the kitchen lights as she tosses her a beer and takes another one for herself, nonchalantly kicking the fridge closed. She leans a hip on the kitchen bar, worryingly close to Crystal, and holds her beer up.

“Cheers,” she clicks their cans together.

“Cheers,” Crystal repeats. She stops right before taking a sip, frowning. “But what are we exactly cheering for?”

Sipping her drink, Gigi breathes out a laugh.

“You just killed the moment, babe.”

Babe. Crystal’s ears burn with the name, and she attempts to conceal her surprise by pretending she’s genuinely confused.

“Well, who cares?” Gigi shrugs, holding her beer up again. “Here’s to terrible birthdays, a broken temperature system, and…”

“Motorcycles,” Crystal fills in for her.

“Yeah,” Gigi grins at her. “Motorcycles.”

Crystal leans back to take a long sip of her drink, savoring the slightly bitter taste going down her throat. She notices Gigi staring at her when she places the beer back over the bar, with the ghost of a smile on her glossy lips.

“What?”

“What,” Gigi repeats, snickering.

“You’re looking at me,” Crystal points out, smiling to cover her worsening blush.

“I like looking at you,” the blonde simply says, as if it’s obvious. “I always wanna look at you.”

“That’s creepy. Do I need to call the cops?”

Far from looking bothered, Gigi shrugs. “Who knows. Maybe.”

Crystal scowls with no genuine annoyance, but her face softens as Gigi’s smile somehow widens.

“You’re weird, miss Goode. I thought being weird was my gig,” she jokes, making Gigi throw her head back in laughter.

Internally, Crystal is praying this moment never ends. Seeing Gigi under the dim lights of her kitchen, toying with that beer and looking so effortlessly gorgeous is having the same effect as when she was feeling the air hit her face on the motorcycle, and her head already feels lost in space, far away from the apartment.

“Why were you looking for me earlier?” Crystal asks, voice small.

The intimate atmosphere created around the two is beginning to feel suffocating. Crystal can feel Gigi so close, like she’s the only real part of a dream and the rest of the world was nothing but a wallpaper for her wonderful figure to stand in front of and lead Crystal through the rest of the night.

“Nothing,” Gigi doesn’t even look taken aback by the sudden question.

“Oh, c’mon. It can’t be nothing,” she whines as Gigi takes another sip, purposely taking a long fucking time doing so. “Gigi, c’mon. Tell me!”

She leans forward, making her lower lip stick out in an exaggerated pout. It seems to work catching Gigi’s attention since her whole face seems decomposed when she glances over.

“Don’t do that.”

Crystal frowns. “Do what?”

“Don’t pout.”

“Why not?” she quirks en eyebrow.

“Because it makes me wanna kiss it off your lips,” Gigi deadpans. She takes a final sip from her beer before walking to the fridge again, not minding if Crystal just froze on her spot.

Crystal laughs nervously, trying to convince herself she just misheard. Her heart is beating so fast on er chest, if she watched any medical tv show she might be worried for it to pop out of her body through her nose at any second.

As time passes, she wonders if that’s possible.

“What did you say?”

Gigi sighs, returning with another two beers. She looks uncharacteristically shy, sheepishly placing the new beer in front of Crystal, eyes glued to the carpet.

“This is dumb,” she blurts.

“Gigi—”

But Gigi leans in to kiss her, and suddenly any word forming in Crystal’s head dissolves.

It’s slow and tentative at first, but any doubt disappears when Crystal’s hands move to cup Gigi’s face, pulling her even closer.

She feels light. So light, like when she was holding her arms up in the tunnel to feel the wind, and everything moved so far away from her, she felt ethereal. And now, moving her lips against Gigi’s and feeling the texture of her lipstick between them makes her wonder how Gigi can make such raw sentiments be born in her, riding a goddamn motorcycle or kissing her in the tiny kitchen of her apartment.

Gigi’s hands are tight at the sides of her waist, tugging a little tighter as she pulls back to grab some air.

“That’s why I was looking for you earlier,” she confesses after a while of comfortable silence.

Crystal feels pulled out from a deep trance… or rid over by a bus. Whatever sounds romantic as she stares at the blonde’s deep blue eyes and runs her fingers over her shoulders.

“I think I’ve felt this way with you for a while… I mean, you’re pretty, and I have eyes, so I can tell that you’re pretty,” Gigi continues and if Crystal wasn’t focusing on breathing she would’ve laughed, “I thought that I could keep it friendly, but this morning, when I knew the temperature system was broken and I couldn’t make it to class or the party, I was so pissed. I didn’t wanna let you down.”

The butterflies in Crystal’s stomach have eaten her tongue. Yes, that’s why she’s speechless.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Gigi finally asks and everything fits in Crystal’s head.

“Why would I be mad at you? You’ve literally described how I feel for the last semester with this crush I have on you,” Crystal blurts out.

Before regrets covers her entire face, she notices Gigi raising an eyebrow, with a smirk threatening to form on her lips.

“Last semester, huh? That much?”

“Shut up,” Crystal tries to sound pissed, she really does, but with Gigi being so close, her blushing cheeks betray her initial expression.

“Don’t be embarrassed, you’re flattering me.”

They both laugh. A warm feeling spreads across Crystal’s chest at the fact.

“This day… it was hell,” she mumbles, and almost smiles at how Gigi looks at her, having her entire attention, “and I also was thinking of you. It was weird… like, as I said before, birthdays are supposed to be happy and while I was sad and grumpy I couldn’t help but think ‘I wish Gigi was here, because she would make everything better; she’d make me laugh or help me or just make me feel like I’m not alone’ and I hated the idea of not getting to see—”

“The love of your life?” Gigi suggests, sounding way too hopeful.

“I was gonna say that blonde bitch,” Crystal grimaces, “but if that works for you…”

Gigi laughs, mumbling something about who was the real bitch is as she reaches over for her second beer.

Leaning her side on the kitchen bar, freshly open can in hand, Gigi smiles again. It’s a show of her teeth and little wrinkles at the sides of her eyes that Crystal remembers noticing the day they met that morning at History of Art class.

Glancing at that very smile, Crystal’s pretty sure she’s dreaming. Did she fall asleep on Jaida’s lawn? That’d be pathetic. Someone could think she’s dead tomorrow morning when everyone’s hung over and oh, the idea frightens her, but she has to be dreaming. She can’t be this lucky — she’s never been lucky. What are the chances someone like Gigi can have a crush on her?

This flawless, beautiful girl with a golden personality that Crystal’s been making heart-eyes at for months has a crush on her.

God, she thinks. If I fell asleep Jan better never wakes me up.

“Crystal?”

The redhead blinks a couple of times, meeting Gigi’s eyes in the process.

“You were lost in thought, babe. You alright?”

The fucking pet name again. Crystal isn’t dreaming; her brain wouldn’t be mean enough to make up scenarios like this.

“Was I? Sorry.”

That’s not the answer Gigi wants. She drags the other barstool from the other side of the kitchen bar to Crystal’s side, sitting down with her beer still in hand.

“Stop overthinking.”

It’s not a suggestion. Crystal attempts to laugh, but no actual sound comes out of her mouth.

“Well, I can’t,” she babbles, “it’s hard. This doesn’t feel real.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” she whispers, more to herself than to the other girl. “I always thought that you were… romantically different than me.”

Gigi looks utterly confused. “Please elaborate?”

The butterflies are not dead. They’re flying around Crystal’s stomach now, begging her to not fuck it up.

“I never thought you’d feel the same,” she admits, too quietly for her taste.

Vulnerability is not a good look on her, she has decided years before, and definitely not in front of Gigi. She has all the time in the world to be a cry baby in the comfortable privacy of her dorm, not right now, for Christ’s sake.

“This is real,” Gigi gestured at herself, then at Crystal. “We’re real. Everything is. I can’t understand why you’re so impressed about it, but I know for sure it’s not enough of a reason.”

Crystal nods. Gigi’s right, as always, and she’s just wasting time questioning why has her day taken the path it did instead of enjoying it.

“I’m just being stupid.”

Gigi rolls her eyes, pulling her again for another kiss — a shorter one, but Crystal can’t help but try and memorize how her lips feel against hers. She’s never stopped and think of how it would be to kiss Gigi, and she’s somehow glad; none of her expectations would have been better than the real thing.

“I like you stupid,” Gigi comments once they part, receiving a smack on the arm by Crystal. “You know I’m kidding; you’re never stupid, but I do like you.”

“I like you too,” Crystal breathes, feeling every of her limbs relaxing. Gigi doesn’t say more, and maybe it’s the end of their conversation, but there’s something else forming in Crystal’s throat and before she knows it, she blurts out, “thank you.”

Gigi looks up, puzzled. “For what?”

“For the ride. It was the best birthday present ever.”

Under the dim lights of a small kitchen in an even smaller apartment somewhere in Los Angeles, Crystal knows there’s nothing better than Gigi Goode.

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #college au #lesbian au #fluff #catrina #concrit welcome #crygi #s12

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galadrieljones · 4 years

Text

As You Were (Chapter 8)

Fandom: The Last of Us | Pairing: Joel x OC | Content: Fix-it | Rating: Mature

Masterpost

When Joel and Ellie take a wrong turn on their journey from Pittsburgh to Wyoming, they find themselves lost in what feels like a time warp: a beautiful place with a dark and dangerous secret, filled with painful reminders of the past. But they aren’t alone. When they meet Cici and Noah, a mother and son fighting tirelessly for survival, things change. For those with little hope to spare, family is what you make it.

This is an AU, starting after the events of the Summer chapter in the first game, and extending into the timeline of the second.

*cw: canon-typical violence, blood

Chapter 8: La Crosse (Pt. 2) / The Lapp Farm (Pt. 2)

"Jury's still out. But, man. You can't deny that view."

As Joel and Noah worked their way through the city, nothing much changed, at first. The buildings were empty. Many were boarded up, but not all of them. Little streams and creeks seemed to have broken through the bluffs, coming in off the La Crosse River and now flowed in skinny little ribbons in the empty lots and fields. Looking upon them was paradoxical, for the water was enticing in its visual clarity, but both Joel and Noah knew the truth. There was not much wildlife, and this brought into the world a worrisome quiet beyond the sound of the wind in the trees. The sun came down even still and brought color to the parking lots, all of them overgrown with tall grasses and ponds. The cordyceps in the water did not seem to affect the flora. It was a pretty place, Joel thought, despite its indifference toward human life.

As they crossed the city, Joel could tell they were getting closer to pure, raw nature, as the greenery thickened, and the buildings and houses became increasingly sunken by floods and overtaken by trees and their massive root systems. He knew from the map that the campus was more or less nestled within a great many bluffs, which rose up like grassy table tops, and the Mississippi was less than two miles to the west. Little purple flowers grew everywhere, and they started seeing mushrooms, too, growing on some of the blackened moldy walls of fallen structures, and so Joel and Noah did not get too close.

They just kept following the signs for the Circle of the Holy Signal, and headed straight toward Centennial Hall at the central campus. At times, Joel thought that perhaps he was being watched, through the windows in the residential neighborhoods, but this was hard to put his finger on. Even in the natural wreckage, there were so many houses, small and intact, lined up in rows across many blocks, that he consistently found himself wondering what could be inside. They found a German Shepherd recently dead by what appeared to be a gunshot wound, lying by the side of the road near a middle school. While they had been crouched low, trying to determine exactly how long ago it had been killed, another dog came up with its tail wagging. This one was some sort of lab mix, and it looked lost and starving as it sniffed at their hands excitedly. Joel scrubbed it behind the ears once and then reluctantly bid it to flee. They had nothing for it. This was a sad and desolate place.

After they had walked more than two miles, they started to see actual signs of the campus, which was promising as well as foreboding. School flags that had survived, still flapping off the street lights, and crimson banners for the football team. There were take-out restaurants and bars with their windows bashed in, some of them still advertising discounts for students as well as a UW Credit Union. They walked down Main Street for a while, passing many Lutheran churches, sometimes more than one on a single block. Some of the churches had been co-opted and hung with banners that read Worship Circle, another tell of their mystery cult. Those churches in particular were so overgrown with the mushroom, they looked like beautiful death flowers, and Joel bid them to put on their gas masks just for the time being, as he was worried about spore levels, even in the open air.

At some point, they came upon a school store. It still had mannequins in the window and the doors were locked up with a heavy chain. Joel stopped to look around and Noah leaned against a stop sign to drink some water.

“What’s your take on this place?” he said eventually. "Do you have any like, feelings about it?"

Joel was examining the chain around the door handles. “My take is, this might be a fool’s errand.” He had a small screwdriver and lock pick, given to him by Bill back in Lincoln. “But I have been known to make my fair share of foolish decisions over the years. Anyway, this town seems fairly dead.”

“We can go back,” said Noah. He was holding the water bottle, soaked in sweat from his dark hair to his red Converse. “We saw the church. Maybe there’s nothing else to see. Maybe it’s too dangerous.” He had a kicked look about him, like a puppy. Joel saw him for his age then—old enough to know a lot, but still too young to know much better. He had a lot of confidence and sometimes this could make him seem older, but he was still only seventeen.

“What do you wanna do?” said Joel. He popped the lock on the chain with considerable ingenuity. He was a little proud of himself. "I'm here to help you."

“I wanna keep going,” said Noah. “I wanna know what’s going on.”

“All right then,” said Joel. “Let’s get to Centennial Hall and see what we can find.”

“Okay,” said Noah, like he had been reenergized. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going inside,” said Joel, loosening the chain and letting it drop. It made a loud noise and he then used a piece of rebar to pry open the doors.

“Why?” said Noah.

“Because,” said Joel, letting the rebar clank to the concrete sidewalk. He wiped the sweat from his face and his beard. “There might be something in here I want.”

They went inside. It was surprisingly maintained. It even looked defended, as if somebody had taken up shop in there many years before. There were makeshift blockades in the front of the store and what looked to be a sizable nest in the employee’s lounge. From the looks of the posters on the wall, he guessed it had been college kids.

“It’s just paraphernalia, for the college,” said Noah. He was going through the aisles, looking at the clothes on the racks, the mugs and water bottles. “What would you want in here.”

“A souvenir,” said Joel. He went over to the women’s section. A huge piece of particle board had fallen from the ceiling. He hauled it away.

“For yourself?”

“No,” said Joel.

“For Ellie?”

Joel was scouring a rack of hooded sweatshirts. “She asked me to bring her something, as a trade-in for not letting her come along. Hey, does this look like her size?” He held one of them up, a faded crimson with the words UW - LA CROSSE stamped on front, in a sort of vintage font. He thought it seemed like something she'd wear.

“What size is it?” said Noah.

“Uh, a woman’s extra small.”

“Well, she’s pretty extra small. So, I’d say that’s a good bet.”

Joel gave him a look. “Come here,” he said. “Put this in your backpack.”

“What?” said Noah. “No. You put it in yours.”

“I don’t have room in mine. Your mom packed it with one too many bomb parts and radio frequency enhancement mumbo jumbo, and it’s already digging in my spine.”

“Fine,” said Noah, swiping the sweatshirt. He rolled it up tightly and shoved it in the front pocket. “For Ellie.” Then he zipped it shut and they looked around. He saw something funny, one gray tee-shirt folded neatly in a disorderly stack. He held it up and showed it to Joel. “What about this one, for you?”

It said: UW - La Crosse Dad.

Joel said, “Yeah, that’s real funny.”

“I thought so.”

They were alarmed then, by a loud and inhuman screech, some banging on the walls coming from a locked back room.

“Jesus,” said Joel, picking up his shotgun. Whatever it was, it was angry, but it was trapped. He thought it might have been one of the college kids who'd made a nest here, which saddened him.

“That’s the first one,” said Noah. “In the whole town. What does that mean?”

“It means we’re getting closer to the epicenter of whatever the hell is going on here,” said Joel. “We should keep moving.”

They left the store, left the infected to rot. It was blistering now in the high noon sun as they continued their journey. “What was that thing in the store, do you know?" said Noah, earnest. He had his shotgun in his hands, a heavy pistol stuffed in the back of his jeans. He had killed plenty of Infected in his life, but it was mostly runners.

“Sounded like a clicker,” said Joel. "Based on the looks of things around here, that is most likely what we'll be running into. Whatever happened, it’s been years.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Noah. It was a common sentiment for him, but now, something had changed in his demeanor. He seemed desperate.

“What now."

“We lived for so long, on our farm,” said Noah. “It felt safe, growing up there, barely encountering any of this insane bullshit, until just this past year or so. But these people here, in the city, it looks like they went through something horrible, for such a long time. How can that be? How can they all be dead?”

“If I remember properly,” said Joel, “it took the cordyceps some months to take root in the midwest. Once they isolated the big cities, it was a slow trickle to the end, and smaller cities like this, once they got it, there wasn’t much support. They got it bad. Local militias rose up in their various…forms. I ain’t surprised you all managed to survive on your land for as long as you did, given how isolated you are, but I suppose that it was only a matter of time before it got to you, too, one way or another.”

“This is so sad,” said Noah as they looked around at their desolate surroundings. He was shaking his head over and over again like he could not believe it. “My mom was born in La Crosse. Her ancestors came here from Norway in like the 1890s. Look at it now.”

“What about your dad?”

“My dad was born in Madison,” he said. “His grandparents were Spanish immigrants.”

“Was his family farmers, too?”

"Yeah,” said Noah. They were walking along, kicking around in the middle of the road, all cracked up with weeds, listening to the wind. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re from Texas,” he said. “What about your parents?”

“My parents were also from Texas,” said Joel. “My grandparents, too.”

“Where in Texas?”

“A town called Odessa.”

“Have you ever been married?” said Noah.

Joel was looking up at the sky now. There were some carrion birds up there, circling. A bad omen. “What?” he said.

“I asked if you’ve ever been married.”

“Why would you wanna know that?”

“I’m just curious,” said Noah.

Joel sighed and gave in. “Yes, I have been married.”

“When?”

“A long time ago.”

“What happened?” said Noah.

“It didn’t work out.”

“I see,” said Noah, sensing his unease. “What’s your last name?”

“My last name?” said Joel.

“Yeah,” said Noah, innocent. But then he also noticed the birds. Their conversation dropped off a cliff. “Holy shit,” he said. “You see that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Those are turkey vultures.” He was chewing on a stick, something he’d picked up off the ground. “They nest all over these bluffs.”

“Yeah, well,” said Joel. “Looks like they found something. Come on.”

Meanwhile, at the Lapp farmhouse, Ellie had wandered over to the bottom of the stairs. They were heavy and a dark wood. Everything about the house seemed really sturdy, but it also seemed really old. Things creaked and there were occasional dips in the flooring. “I think she’s upstairs,” she said. She thought she’d heard movement now from the floor above. But she wouldn’t call out Becky’s name, because it seemed like it might not be her place. She was a stranger here.

“Becky?” said Danielle.

"Hang on,” said Cici from the living room. She had redone her pony tail. It was high on her head now and twisted into a bun. “Looks like somebody’s coming to the backdoor.”

“What?” said Danielle. "Who?"

Concerned, Ellie came back into the kitchen space and placed her hand on the loom. Maybe she hadn’t heard anything after all. She glanced toward the stairs and then back to the door. There was a little window in the door, the shape of a semi-circle, and now a girl rushing up the steps, wearing a white dress and a little white kapp. She tried to get in, but it the door locked. She knocked several times, with urgency.

“Danielle?” said the girl. “Danielle, are you here?”

“Hey, is that Becky?” said Ellie.

“Becky,” said Danielle.

She went to the door, opened it quickly. Becky came inside, her small, pink hands on the slope of her pregnant belly. Her hair was very orange, almost striking. When she looked around and Saw Cici, then Ellie, she became alarmed. “Cici?” she said. “What’s going on?”

“Everything’s okay,” said Danielle. “Where’d you go?”

“I woke up, and you were gone. I went outside. I looked everywhere.”

“I found one of the sick in the barn,” said Danielle. She helped Becky to the kitchen table, where the two of them sat down. Becky seemed out of breath. “I went to find Cici and Noah to help.”

“Oh,” she said, relieved. “Goodness. I was so worried.”

“I’m gonna take care of the runner in the barn,” said Cici.

“Runner?” said Becky.

“She means the sick,” said Danielle.

“Oh,” said Becky. “Right. Cici, how is Noah? It has been a long time since I last saw you.”

“Noah’s doing just fine,” said Cici. “Congratulations, by the way. On your blessing.”

“Oh,” said Becky, re-situating in the chair. “Thank you. We are so grateful.”

“This is Ellie,” said Danielle. She came over from the table and held Ellie’s hand. It was unexpected, but Ellie just went with it. Her hand was warm and clammy. The floor creaked where she stood. “What was your last name again, Ellie?”

“My last name?” said Ellie. She hadn’t spoke it in such a long time. She looked down at her hand, inside Danielle's hand. “It’s Williams, I guess. Ellie Williams.”

“Ellie is new to the farm.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Becky, fanning herself with her hand. “But you’re so young. Are you one of the ones from town?”

“No,” said Ellie, growing increasingly unsure of what she should say. “No. I’m here with—well, it’s kind of hard to explain.”

“You needn’t worry,” said Becky, so sweet, but strange. Her hair was like a pyre. Her cheeks, nose, and forehead were violently freckled and her eyes were very blue and misty. Like planets.

“What was that?” said Danielle. She had dropped Ellie’s hand and was now staring up at the ceiling. They all heard it then, the sounds upstairs. It was a loud thud, then some skittering like a giant rodent, and then a door slammed shut. Ellie felt a chill in her bones.

“Holy shit,” she said. She rushed back to the stairs, held onto the railing like a baseball bat, got up on her tip-toes to to see. “I knew I heard something.”

“I got it,” said Cici. “Ellie, stay here.”

“You can’t go by yourself. It’s one of them.”

Cici had drawn her pistol. Danielle was backing away, toward Becky, who sat very straight. They both looked pale, almost shocked, as birds. “It’s inside?” said Danielle. “How’d it get inside? I locked it in the barn. I used the chains.”

“I’m guessing it’s not the same one,” Cici said. “Just stay here, be very quiet. And Ellie, if you insist on coming, you keep behind me. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Lead the way,” said Ellie.

Ellie didn’t have a gun. She’d left it in the truck. Still, she wasn’t scared. She had been through this now, so many times, with Joel. She knew what to do, and each of those fucking things she killed, since Tess, since Henry and Sam—since fucking Riley—she had recently decided: It was going to be vengeance. She wasn’t gonna take it anymore. On their way in from Pittsburg, she and Joel had stopped at a rest stop oasis in Ohio, foraged some food from a huge gas station there on the side of the freeway. She fell asleep, leaning against one of the shelves while Joel gassed up the truck, and she had a nightmare in which she saw Joel just standing in the hotel back in Pittsburg, water up to his knees, a bite mark in his hand. He told her he was going to take his own life and then instructed her calmly upon how to get to Wyoming. Take the I-80, he had said. He said it over and over again. She woke up unnerved. She had been clenching her jaw so that her teeth felt jagged. She never told him about the dream, but it, along with so much else, had changed her.

When she and Cici got upstairs, it was just a simple hallway with three bedrooms. One at the end, and two on each side. Only the door at the end of the hallway was closed. Based on the sounds they were hearing, it was a runner in there, hiding, probably terrified. They went slowly. Ellie could tell that Cici was gonna try to keep things quiet. The walls were painted white and very clean. Ellie gazed upon the quilts which hung there, just like the ones she had seen downstairs. There was something special about them. The colors were plain. Red, white, and blue, and the purity of such reminded her of the American flag. As she stared at the quilt, she got lost as she so often did and failed to realize that, as they were focused on the room at the end of the hall and approaching it in silence, there was another runner, vibrating real quiet in the bedroom to their right.

“Oh my god,” said Ellie.

The thing rushed them. It happened so fast, like a straight line wind, and when it went for Cici, Ellie didn’t think. It was a girl runner and not so big so she whipped it back by the hair and stuck her knife in its throat, five or six times till it died. The blood was everywhere. It was on Ellie’s face, her shirt, her hands. The sound of its death was loud, and as she dropped it to the floor, the other one came through the door, gnashing and alive. Its screams were horrifying. Even as she no longer feared them outright, the Infected were fucking demons. Ellie tripped over the dead one trying to get away, and just as she did, Cici raised her gun and shot the thing in the head, twice, point blank. It went down like a fucking sack of bricks. Ellie was on her ass and out of breath.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said, shaking her head out like a dog. “Is that all of them?”

“Are you okay?” said Cici. She saw the blood. She hauled Ellie up and started searching her for marks.

“I’m fine,” said Ellie. “Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” said Cici, though she seemed unsettled. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

“What about Becky and Danielle?”

“They’re coming with us.”

“Cici?” said Danielle from the bottom of the stairs. “Ellie? Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Cici shouted down the stairs. “Just—just don’t come up here yet. It’s nothing you wanna see.”

Danielle said a prayer. She said, “Praise god that you came.”

Ellie tried wiping some of the blood off her face. It had gotten on her clothes, and she felt momentarily embarrassed. “What the fuck are we gonna do with these things?” she said. “We can’t just leave them here.” She looked at the quilt on the wall. It was a bloodied. Ellie was pissed off about this. She hoped they could just make another.

“Go downstairs,” said Cici. “I’ll wrap them in sheets and drag them outside.”

“I’m covered in fucking blood,” said Ellie. “I don’t want to freak them out.”

"They’ll understand,” said Cici. “We’ve been through this sort of thing before. Though the fuckers have never gotten in the house like this.”

“What do we do with the bodies?” said Ellie. “Burn them?”

“Yes,” said Cici. “There’s plenty of fuel. It won’t be too much work.”

She dragged the bodies out one by one. She then went over to the barn by herself while Ellie, Danielle, and Becky stood outside, by the truck, and waited. Cici lured the thing out and blew it to shreds with a pipe bomb. They doused the bodies with gasoline from a canister in the shed by the garden and set them on fire in the pit at the back of the property. Then, they all drove back to the scrapyard, and though they didn’t go inside, Ellie did see rows and rows of school busses, exactly like Noah had said. Cici got out, used a rubber hose to syphon several gas cans full of fuel for the generator, and then together they all drove back to the farm on the other side of the hill where they would be safe behind the electric fence.

Back in La Crosse, Noah and Joel had found the detritus that had been drawing the turkey vultures from the bluffs. It was a clicker, facedown with parts of its neck ripped out. Could've been dogs, or maybe its own kind.

"Centennial Hall," said Noah, once they got there.

"There it is," said Joel.

The building was straight ahead of them. It was tall, red brick, stately in its prime with massive pillars and a clocktower. Of late, it had been devoured whole by vines robust as ankle tendons. The clocktower was plagued by black scorch marks, too, and the grass surrounding was probably waist-high. There were no more signs, no banners or flags. The building seemed deeply haunted, with the wind whistling through its veins. The clouds were big on the horizon. Joel feared a storm.

He was getting that feeling again, too, like they were being watched. "Noah," he said.

But Noah was already headed to the clicker, the dead one, splayed out in the middle of the road. He threw a rock at one of the vultures, which had been picking at its clothes unscrupulously, and the thing hissed back to the skies. Noah crouched down to get a better look. He hadn't seen an actual clicker since the last time he was here, since his dad.

"Noah," said Joel, surveying the quaint and rural atmosphere. Something was not right.

"It's okay," said Noah.

But it wasn't okay. Joel had seen it first, the thing that was set to change them. The clicker wasn't dead. It flopped over onto its back, surprising Noah and sending him off-balance. He stumbled as it screeched its terrible song, and its face, up close, was like a demon. Joel was there before he had the space to react. He pulled the trigger on his shotgun, close enough so that its head seemed to explode off its shoulders. It went down. Joel grabbed Noah by the collar and looked him over good. He said, "Noah. Noah. You okay?"

Noah thought about losing his guts, keeling over in the street. It had been some kind of event, and he had never been that close before. "I'm fine," he said, exhilarated. "I'm okay."

"Thank Jesus."

They decided to ascend the clocktower after that. It was the highest point they could see, and it seemed a safe place for to find their respite, for now. They climbed a bunch of narrow, spiral stairs and then a ladder, and a lot of it was rotted or rusted, but they made it okay. When they got to the top, it was a small space with a window and a circuit breaker, an old empty bottle of booze but that was all. They looked out over the burnt-out college campus, how it had gone to seed and lost its innocence. They saw the clouds, too, gathering in the north, looking like a definite storm now, moving south with some speed, straight for them and for Viroqua thereafter. Leaning heavily with their backs against the wall, they caught their breath, and then Joel took the two-way radio out of his back-pack. He hooked up the repeater, something Noah's dad had rigged up a long time ago to help them extend the range of the frequency.

"We should radio your mom," he said, "before we head inside the hall. I don't know if it'll work. But on the off chance it does, we should let her and Ellie know we're okay."

Noah was in agreement, even as he spoke little. Joel found the channel and commenced his talking in the radio. Sylvia Plath, he said, loud and clear. Sylvia Plath, do you copy? This is Ryan Adams. We are okay. Sylvia Plath. Do you copy? Do you copy?

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou2 #joel the last of us #ellie the last of us #as you were #joel miller #ellie williams

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

More Than Words (Four)

This chapter turned out different than I planned, but if there’s one thing I learned, it’s to let stories do whatever they want because Free Range Plots are much more fun to read than plotted, planned and outlined ones.

Note: while this story isn’t actually D/s, I have given ‘subspace’ a MTW/ABO twist and I sort of love it. Hope everyone else does too!

Also, I love snarky Hank Pym so much omg his character in the Ant Man movies was amazing.

MTW MASTERLIST HERE

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

Hank Pym had an entire list of people he never wanted to see knocking at his front door.

Tony Stark topped the list, Tony Stark’s uncomfortably intimidating assistant Pepper Potts was a close second. Norman Osborn wasn’t even allowed within a hundred yards of the property-- or was it that Hank wasn’t allowed within a hundred yards of Norman Osborn? Restraining orders between old men fighting over physics were so complicated-- and even though Scott Lang was well on his way to becoming part of the family, Hank didn’t particularly want to see him at three in the morning either.

The very last person Hank was expecting to see on the other side of his door was the mutant cyborg Cable, and though he would happily die before admitting he screamed when that metallic yellow eye zeroed in on him---

“Shit!” Hank tried to slam the door right in Cable’s face, shrieked a little when metal fingers grasped around the edges and pried it back open, and then shrieked a little louder when the heavy door came right off its hinges as Cable barreled inside.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Hank swept a shock of silver hair away from his eyes and puffed out his chest, folding his arms and rocking up onto his toes and doing everything possible to appear bigger than his several inches shorter than the Alpha. “You can’t just run in here like you own the place! Who the hell do you think you are!?”

“You know who I am.” Cable didn’t bother hiding his smirk over Hank’s floor length striped robe and color coordinated slippers. “Nice jammies.”

“I’m insisting I don’t know who you are, so when I’m taken to court for whatever mayhem you’re about to unleash on Manhattan, I can truthfully say I had no prior notice of your bullshit.” the Beta retorted. “Get out. Your kind isn’t welcome here.”

“My kind.” Cable dumped his utility bag out onto the nearest surface and rifled through the assorted items. “Pretty bold words coming from someone who’s future son in law has a standing appointment at the local prison.”

“Scott’s a good kid, he’s just a dumbass.” Hank defended. “And by your kind I meant you, specifically. You, Cable, are not welcome here. The last time you ended up in my neighborhood you tried to steal my tech and destroy my gardenias. You need to leave. Take that bionic arm and creepy eye and your fanny pack and get out.”

“It’s a utility bag.” Cable held a computer chip up towards the genius. “And I’m not going to apologize for your gardenias. They weren’t prize winning no matter what the old lady across the street told you. Are you going to help me or what?”

“It’s absolutely a fanny pack and no, I won’t be helping you.” the Beta inched forward a step, eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “What is that? Why is it glowing gold?”

“I thought you weren’t going to help me.” Cable taunted, holding the chip away when Hank reached for it. “Or did you change your mind?”

“I’m not going to help you.” With a quickness that belied his nearly eighty years, Hank grabbed at a small remote and pressed the button. There was a whir and a pulse, and Cable’s left arm dropped limp and useless, the chip falling from his fingers.

“Gotcha.” Hank darted forward and grabbed it, ducking back out of the way as the robotic pieces of Cable’s body came back on line. “You like that? Pocket sized EMP. I know that shiny shit up your neck is more techno organic than mechanical, but an EMP will stun anything for a few seconds.”

“Congratulations.” Cable said flatly. “You stunned me for a few seconds and got your hands on the computer chip. What now?”

“Now you can leave.” Hank flipped on a lamp and studied the piece under brighter light. “But before you go, tell me what this is?”

“It is part of the computer that controls my time travel device.” the Alpha admitted, and Hank’s eyes widened in excitement. “It’s all I have left, actually. A back up to my main piece. My device was...taken… and now I need to build a new one.”

“The mighty time traveling Cable stuck in the year twenty nineteen?” Hank whistled in mock sympathy. “Got your fancy time traveling gadget stolen, huh? Who took it from you?”

“That doesn’t matter.” Irritation blanketed Cable’s scent, but Hank Pym was a Beta and gave exactly zero fucks what an Alpha scented like. “You need to help me build another one.”

“Oh-ho, I think I do not.” Hank ran a curious finger over the glowing chip. “Why does it light up like this? Is it like the glow of my Pym particles?”

“Pym particles.” Cable rolled his eyes. “You’re a few years ahead of this timeline’s science and think you can just name sub atomic particles after yourself. You know what we call them in my timeline?” Hank’s eyes narrowed and Cable finished bluntly, “Trash. Pym particles are trash because we’ve moved beyond them. Now are you going to help or not?”

“Right.” Hank turned the chip over a few times. “Remind me why I’d help you now that you’ve thoroughly insulted my life’s work?”

“Because you’re desperate to know how time travel works.” The Alpha unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to the scientist. “And because you’re so damn curious you’re gonna throw me out tonight, then fuss and fidget for a few days, and then call me and act huffy about helping. How about we skip all of that and you just help me now?”

The muscle in the Beta’s jaw jumped as Hank ground his teeth together and glowered, but finally he snatched the list from Cable and read through it, muttering under his breath the entire time.

And finally, “I have most of this on hand. A couple items will take me a week to get my hands on but some of these?” he shook his head. “Cable, I don’t know what’s just laying around on grocery store shelves in your timeline, but these sort of things are locked up tight in all the places the government swears they aren’t stockpiling weapons of mass destruction and doomsday devices. I can’t just waltz in the front door, have a cashier ring me up, and then waltz back out with this in a paper bag.”

“You tell me where to find it, I’ll get in and grab it.” Cable maintained. “You get me the rest. Then I’ll need your lab for the finer work.”

“No no no, you aren’t listening to me.” Hank stabbed his finger at the list. “Even if I called in a few favors and managed to get my hands on it, those phone calls would end with me being tossed down a dark hole and probably charged with war crimes and consorting with terrorists. No. No, I’m not doing it.”

“Hank--”

“How do you lose a time travel device anyway!” Agitated now, the Beta crumpled the list up and tossed it back at Cable. “Don’t you have a spare?”

“I have the one.” Cable said in frustration. “I have charges for it and enough pieces to make minor repairs, but it’s gone and now I have to build a rudimentary piece from scratch to get back to my timeline and retrieve a newer one to return to the past!”

“Why the past!” Hank threw up his hands. “Why does it matter? Why did you pound on my door at three in the morning to ask me something imposs--”

“It’s a kid.” Cable cut in, and Hank’s mouth shut with an audible click. “He’s just a kid, twenty something years old, scrappy little Omega is all. He ended up activating the device without meaning to and now he and the dial are gone. I need a new one so I can go and get him back.”

“So you know where he is.”

“I know exactly where he is.” Cable nodded. “I had the dial pre set to a specific year, just gotta jump back and drag him back before it’s too late.”

“...what’s too late?” Hank swallowed and took the list again, scanning through it a second time. “When will it be too late?”

“Don’t worry about that.” the Alpha waved the question off. “How soon can you have this all for me?”

“It will take a few months.” Hank felt around for a pen and started making calculations. “Most of the pieces are easy to get, assembling them into such a delicate device is completely different. The more difficult items will take several weeks to get in, I’ll have to treat the wires, build a circuit board, all that sort of thing. And the more impossible things could take months if I can get them at all.”

“You have ninety days.” Cable said flatly and Hank gaped at him.

“Were you listening to what I said? It could a month and a half just to track down some of these, and the rest I’ll have to call in favors for, sell my soul and probably sign over Hope’s first born child! I can’t do it in--”

“You have ninety days.” the mutant said again. “I have to get that kid and get him back within ninety days.”

“What happens in ninety days?” Hank held up a hand stubbornly when Cable tried to argue. “No, you need to tell me. What happens in ninety days if I can’t get all this material?”

Cable swallowed, guilt laying heavy over his shoulders. “When a human is placed into a timeline other than their own, their body stops working. Blood cells stop regenerating, wounds won’t heal, a cold could actually kill them because their immune system can’t rally. Anything other than their basic functions grinds to a halt. Sometimes mental stability is affected, other times it eats away at them visibly-- hair falling out, loss of hearing, severe eczema, all of that.”

“What?”

“This is a virus.” Cable tapped at the metal leeched into his neck. “I’m not a cyborg, I’m not a robot. I’m sick. I don’t belong in the future timeline, I was sent there as a child and was infected with this virus. Every time I use my device it takes over my body a little bit more until one day there won’t be anything of me left. But I’m mutant, so it's a slower progression. On a human, it won’t be slow at all.”

“Ninety days.” Hank stared stunned, the color draining from his face. “Red blood cells only last about a hundred and fifteen days before our body breaks them down, is that why it’s ninety days? Anything past that and his body starts to shut down entirely?”

“If he gets a bad cut, he’ll die because his body isn’t making anything new to replace what’s lost.” Cable stated. “If he gets a cold, it will turn into fatal pneumonia within a matter of days. A fever could end him by sun down, an allergic reaction could kill him within minutes. This is life or death, Hank. Are you going to help me or not?”

“Ninety days.” the Beta looked back down at the list. “I can get this in ninety days. Maybe even sooner.”

“Maybe make it sooner.” Cable grunted. “You let me know how I can help. And Hank?”

Hank looked up and Cable offered him a half smile. “Thank you.”

The mutant was out of the house and gone a moment later, leaving Hank holding the paper and the computer chip as the cold night air wound in through the broken door.

“Prick.” he muttered to no one in particular. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing it for the kid.” and then quieter, “And because I am dying to know how time travel works.”

“Ninety days. I can do this.”

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

Peter hummed to himself as he gathered eggs, shooing the chickens away from their nests and tucking the eggs in the pocket of his hoodie. He’d never put even a split second of thought into where his breakfast came from but apparently chickens only lay one egg a day which meant his favorite brunch meal of three egg omelets was the combined effort of three different chickens and that-- that just didn’t seem right.

Looking down at the five meager eggs, Peter made a silent vow to never eat more than two at a time anymore, especially since Wade more than likely ate all five and was giving up part of his breakfast for Peter.

“You look awfully stressed out for having tussled with chickens.” Wade flashed his fangs in a teasing grin when Peter made it back inside. “Figured after three days the birds would stop giving you grief. Which one did you poke in the butt?”

“I didn’t poke anyone in the butt.” Peter huffed, and the Alpha’s smile stretched wider. “It’s just um--”

“Just what?” Wade could fit all five eggs in his big palm without even stretching, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by Peter, even though he didn’t let himself linger too long on the fact that Wade had big feet too. We all know what that means. “What’s on your mind, Pete?”

“Um, it’s stupid.” Peter grabbed at his notebook and jotted down a few lines. “I just never put any thought into where my food came from or how much effort goes into making it.”

“...it takes two minutes to collect eggs, Pete.”

“No.” Peter shook his head. “No I mean. Chickens only lay one egg a day.” Wade blinked at him and Peter gestured vaguely. “My normal breakfast is the work of three chickens, a cow or goat, and someone who has to plant and harvest vegetables!”

“Yeah.” Wade cracked the eggs into a pan. “And?”

“And.” Peter emphasized. “I just go to the grocery store and buy a dozen eggs, a quart of milk and grab a tomato on my way up to the register. I never put any thought into how much effort goes into food. It’s about enough to turn someone vegan.”

“And vegan means…”

“I won’t eat any product that comes from an animal.” Peter stared down at his cup of milk. “Even though I feel like that barely works in my time where I can buy basically anything at the store, I’ll definitely starve to death here if I have to live on pine cones or something.”

“Yeah it’d be a real shame if you starved to death.” The Alpha stirred at their breakfast for a minute and then dropped a slab of meat into a frying pan. “I got five chickens because I usually eat five eggs and then I butcher them in the hard parts of winter so they don’t freeze and so I have fresh meat. I keep a goat for the milk and two horses to help haul the wagon. It’s not like I’m over hunting deer for the sport of it or keeping so many chickens I just end up attracting coyotes and mountain lions. If I don’t eat--”

“No.” Peter held up his hand to quiet Wade. “No, I’m not saying you’re wrong for needing to hunt or anything. I’m just saying that the-- wow the sheer amount of eggs and meat and milk that people in my timeline go through and now that I know a chicken only lays one egg a day it’s just… It’s sort of awful.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re here now.” Wade turned the meat over and raised his eyebrows at Peter. “Right? Because it’s not awful.”

“It’s decidedly not awful.” Peter agreed, a faint blush climbing his cheeks when the Alpha rumbled at him softly. “And thank you for breakfast. I promise I can actually cook though, so maybe tomorrow morning you let me try?”

Tomorrow morning. The words came so easily, the assumption and acceptance that Peter would be there another day something that made both Alpha and Omega smile.

Four days had come and gone since Logan’s visit, and every day Peter woke up a little more rested, a little more peaceful.

He followed Wade along with chores and helped where he could, spent long hours exploring the surrounding forest while Wade worked on the cabin or chopped wood, and at evening they ate dinner together, talking quietly about the day and sharing increasingly warm smiles. Peter would write down all the new things he learned, Wade would patiently try to answer a litany of questions and Peter would exclaim in delight every time he figured out an answer before Wade could tell him.

Every night Wade motioned Peter towards the bed and Peter would put up a fuss about how Wade should be sleeping in the bed. The Alpha would growl a little and demand, Peter would huff and turn his nose up but inevitably, he would snuggle down into heavy blankets and Wade would watch protectively until the Omega slipped away into dreams.

It was the easiest thing in the world to move around each other, to move with each other, to laugh and talk and find conversation and for the first time in years Peter asked questions without urgency, wanted to know without feeling like he might explode if he didn’t, he was learning without painfully, desperately searching.

Wade’s scent wrapped safe around him at night, the cabin air saturated with contentment, and even though neither Peter nor Wade had re- introduced the topic of their scents matching or how they knew each other, there wasn’t really words for what they felt anyway.

The knowing was more than words, it was more than what Peter had read about in romance novels, more than what science could explain away, the sort of comfort and security that settled soul deep despite knowing Cable could return any minute and take him away.

They weren’t ready to think about that though, not about Cable and not about saying goodbye when they were still just barely skating along the surface of the bond sparking between their souls.

No, Peter was more than willing to put Cable out of his mind for right now and focus on learning everything he could about Wade’s world… and perhaps focusing on pulling as many fanged smiles from the Alpha as he could.

And it was this focus that led directly to Peter deciding he wanted to help Wade out more by taking on another chore, which in turn led directly to the Omega staring down a goat and immediately wondering if he’d made a mistake.

Offering to clean the cabin would have been a better idea.

“Alright Goat.” Peter eyed the beast warily, bucket clutched in one hand, a chunk of dandelions held in the other. “You got milk, I need the milk, are you gonna be cool about this or what?”

The goat bleated and stamped it’s little hoof.

“What was that?” Peter asked suspiciously. “Was that a yes? Are you saying yes? Gonna give it up for some dandelions?”

Wade was busy working tangles from Bea’s mane so he didn’t witness the head butting but he definitely heard the Omega squawk in outrage, heard the goat bellow in triumph, and when Peter came out of the barn spitting both hay and curses, Wade turned back to the roan so his laughter wasn’t quite so obvious.

“I can hear you.” Peter snapped and Wade tried even harder to muffle it. “That Billy goat knocked me right over! Does it do that to you?”

“First of all,” Wade smoothed his fingers through Bea’s mane and patted the mare on the neck to shoo her on. “That’s a nanny goat, not a billy goat. Billy goats are boys, nanny goats give milk. What did you think you were tugging on down there to get white stuff to shoot out?”

Peter's jaw dropped, his perfect lips opening in an shocked ‘oh’ at Wade’s phrasing. “I— um— I mean I wasn’t—“ Wade waited until he finished lamely. “I wasn’t tugging. Not yet anyway. I got head butted before I could try.”

“Fair enough.” Wade’s scent colored amused and the Omega turned bright red. “C’mon, get your bucket and I’ll show you. Come on.”

Peter grumbled under his breath as he followed Wade back into the barn, but he still dragged the stool over and paid close attention as Wade led the goat back over and tethered her to a short post, putting a pile of food in front of the animal to keep her distracted.

“See this? Milking post. Keeps her from running.” Wade smoothed his hands down the goat’s back and patted her rump. “Make sure she knows where you are, talk to her a little. She might be an animal but that doesn’t mean she likes being yanked on any more than a person would, you know? Easy and steady, firm but not painful. Look.”

Peter watched in fascination as milk hit the bucket in steady streams, Wade making the motions with no visible effort at all. “It doesn’t hurt her?”

“It’s more of a relief.” Wade trilled at the goat when she balked away from Peter. “She had kids this past spring so she’s pretty full of milk still. When we go to town, I’ll get her bred up with one of the town billies so her production stays up. There will be a few months in the spring where we don’t have milk cos she’s nursing but otherwise she puts out all year.”

“Is she acting weird around me because I’m new?” Peter picked up the nearly trampled dandelions and offered them to the goat again. “Or am I doing something wrong?”

“You smell off.” Wade eased off the goat and got up from the stool, motioning for Peter to take his place. “Humans don’t like the scent of mutants because we scent wild. Animals like our scent just fine. S’why the wolf pups follow Logan. They recognize the wild in him.”

“You don’t smell weird to me.” Peter settled onto the stool and petted at the animal awkwardly. “I think you smell good.”

“Yeah well,” Wade cleared his throat, swallowing back a burble of happiness. “That’s because if you told me I stunk, I’d kick you out and make you fend for yourself.”

“You’re right, that’s exactly what it is.” Peter wrinkled his nose teasingly, then put cautious hands on the goat. “Is this right? It doesn’t feel right. In fact it feels a little… ick.”

“You’re basically right.” Wade crouched behind the Omega, big arms circling Peter's lean frame so he could cover Peter's hands with his own and better direct each motion. “Feel that? A little pressure and it will give, and then right here where you meet some resistance, back off. No no don’t let go.” He recaptured Peters hands. “You let go and she thinks you’re done. Always hands on.”

“How do I know when she’s empty?” Peter’s brow furrowed in concentration. “Do I keep going until she’s all the way dry or stop before then?”

“You’ll feel when she’s about done, but you do wanna get her empty.” Wade let Peter take over the milking again, but didn’t move from behind the Omega. “Leave too much and her body thinks she doesn’t need to produce and then we end up with no milk at all. And having a full udder for too long can give her an infection.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded, eyes trained on the bucket and the stream of milk. “We do this twice a day?”

“Twice a day, and once you get comfortable it shouldn’t take you more than five or six minutes.” Wade confirmed. “Think you can handle it?”

“I think it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you watched me a few times to make sure I’m not hurting her.” Peter clicked at the goat when she shifted uncertainly. “Would you mind?”

Wade would certainly not mind sitting here twice a day with Peter cradled between his thighs, the Omega’s thick hair in his nose and back fit to his chest. Peter hadn’t seemed to notice yet that Wade was practically hugging him, that all he’d have to do was turn his head and their lips would meet, or scoot back a few inches to plaster their bodies together.

He was so close and here in the barn the Omega’s honeysuckle scent mixed with sun warmed hay, lavender underscoring the earthier tones of animal and it would have been so easy for Wade to shift forward and bury his nose in Peter’s hair, to inhale deep and get scent drunk right then and there.

Tempting.

“‘Course I don't mind helping.” Wade tried for teasing but it fell flat as his entire body tightened with a surge of longing . “Last thing I need is you pissing off the goat and her giving me spoiled milk, right?”

“Ugh. Right.” Peter laughed quietly. “You’d kick me out for sure then, wouldn't you?”

“Without even hesitating.” Wade said immediately and Peter laughed again.

There really was something sort of relaxing about this particular chore. Sunlight was streaming bright through the open barn doors and settling warm over their shoulders. The goat was calm and the steady crunch of it eating was oddly comforting. Peter could hear Bea and Arthur stamping around in the yard and their soft nickers and neighs as they talked to each other, and beyond that was the sound of birds in the trees and the whistle of autumn wind through branches.

Wade was set right behind him, the Alpha solid and steady, soothing and dependable, dark licorice scent like caramel flowing thick through Peter’s veins, the cedar bringing to mind long summer days and lazy naps in the sunshine.

Not that he needed a nap, no Peter had slept better in Wade’s bed the last several nights than he had in months. The mattress was barely comfortable but somehow Peter sank right into it and passed out almost immediately. Dreams that had been almost nightmares before were now nothing more than vague impressions of calm and home and even though waking up to a cold cabin wasn’t easy, it was wonderful to sit up and stretch and watch Wade’s eyes light red and possessive for just a split second before the Alpha got himself under control again.

Never once had Peter thought to want an Alpha outside his heat, but oh he wanted Wade and the sudden shift made his fingers tremble, his heart pound.

“Easy. Let up now.” The Alpha’s deep voice was low and smooth in Peter’s ear, breaking into his thoughts and pulling him back to the moment. “She’s all done, Pete. Don’t want to stress her out.”

“Hm?” Peter blinked a few times, lethargic and lazy and not wanting to break the hazy spell that had fallen over them. “Oh. Oh sorry. Is she okay?”

The goat bleated at Peter in annoyance and side stepped away, so Wade reached with one hand to undo her tether and send her out into the yard, then murmured, “It’s alright. You didn’t hurt her.” and pressed at Peter’s side gently, before spreading his fingers out over the Omega’s stomach so Peter wouldn’t move away quite yet. “Are you okay? Seems like I lost you there for a minute.”

“Yeah, I just sort of--” Peter’s mouth felt dry, his tongue thick and head fuzzy and he closed his eyes to the pull of slumber. “--just sort of floated away. I dunno what happened.”

“Floated away…” Wade hesitated. “...in a bad way?”

“Mmmm, no.” he hummed a little and turned in Wade’s arms, tucking his nose into the Alpha’s neck and parting his lips to take a slow breath in. “No, I got tired all the sudden and I feel… spacey. Sorry.”

“Christ.” Wade slipped his hand over Peter’s stomach and around to the side, holding the Omega tight to his chest and shuddering when Peter only sighed and settled firmer into his shoulder. “No, don’t apologize. This is-- this is fine. I’ve got you. Just… just keep floatin’ Pete. I’ve got you.”

Peter’s smile was soft and secret, fingers clutched into Wade’s shirt and frame limp and trusting and the Alpha whispered, “Stay right here.”

It had been so long since Vanessa had passed that Wade had forgotten about this, forgotten about the way two bodies could yearn and linger and the way one partner could fall into a lazy sort of euphoria just because there was nothing better than being held safe in the others arms.

Vanessa had been an Alpha, so these sort of moments had been few and far between but Wade remembered slow nights watching the fire as she drew mindless patterns on his chest and how he’d slipped deeper and deeper under until he could have sworn the stars were shining bright right there in their cabin. He remembered Vanessa wearing nothing more than his shirt, fangs glinting as she laughed, all her edges softened and blurred as he brushed her hair or whispered sweet things into her skin as she tumbled into brilliant nothingness where the only thing that mattered was the pressure of his fingers and the rumble of his voice.

And now Peter was tipping over the edge with nothing more than sunshine and Wade holding him close. He was gorgeous, breath taking even, and it was all Wade could do not to gather the Omega up and carry him to the cabin and lay claim to him properly.

But it wasn’t the right time, it may never be the right time, not when their realities were so far separated and not when Cable was bound to return and take Peter away.

It wasn’t the right time and the thought made Wade’s blood rush hot, his fangs aching as the instinct to claim now before it was too late flashed through his core. His scent roiled sharp, fingers gripping too tight, and the change had Peter shifting against him, the Omega’s perfectly pert nose wrinkling in distress.

“No no no, no distress.” Wade tried to calm his scent, to loosen his hold. “Easy Omega, little Omega, it’s alright. Settle down.”

“Mmm.” Peter hummed and stilled again, and Wade ignored the burn in his thighs from crouching so long, the ache in his back from being bent into such a weird position, and mentally willed the Omega to stay.

Please stay.

Please don’t leave me.

They sat together for a while, and would have sat together long enough for Wade’s legs to go entirely numb if the goat hadn’t interrupted the quiet moment with an aggressively annoyed noise from outside. Wade’s heart twisted when Peter’s eyes opened wide in surprise, and then shuttered in shyness, his cheeks stained red as he peeked up from beneath his lashes.

“We probably have more chores to do?” he whispered, and Wade whispered back, “I can do them, why don’t you go rest?”

“I’m not tired anymore.” Peter denied, but the stretch and wriggle and sleepy sigh he gave said something different. Need punched Wade straight through the stomach as the Omega’s shirt rode up to expose perfect skin, Peter’s satisfied moan as he came back to himself enough to have the Alpha biting his tongue until it bled. “Okay, maybe just a short nap.”

“That’s fine.” Wade managed. “You need help back to the cabin?”

“I’m pretty sure I can walk.” Peter teased him, but standing on wobbly legs was more difficult than he imagined, and he pitched forward a little, catching himself on Wade’s shoulders. “Wow. Sorry. Seriously, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s fine.” Wade ran gentle hands up Peter’s long legs to settle at his waist, holding the Omega steady. “It’s-- shit, Pete. This is fine. How are you feeling? Still floaty?”

“Feel like I’m coming back around now.” From this angle Peter was staring right down at the Alpha, rubbing his thumbs over Wade’s collarbone and the scars at the base of his neck. His eyes were lit with curiosity but not disgust, maybe even affection and Wade held his breath and waited for the inevitable questions---

“Does this hurt?” Peter asked softly and that-- that wasn’t what Wade had been expecting at all.

“What?”

“Does it hurt when I touch you?” Peter clarified. “If I touch you here?” his fingers slid under the shirt collar just a bare inch, and Wade felt the touch like a brand at his soul. God, how long had it been since anyone had touched him like this? “Do the scars hurt?”

“No.” Wade shook his head, his scent filtering thankful when Peter flattened his palms to touch more skin. “Not anymore. They only hurt when I get a new one, but once they fade, I don’t notice anymore. Looks worse than it feels.”

“When you get a new one.” Peter swept his fingers up along Wade’s neck, trilling sweetly when the Alpha tipped his head into his palm. “How often do you get a new one?”

“...one part of my mutation is that I heal.” Wade explained slowly. “I heal from everything. But the scars never go away. Every cut, every broken bone, every scrape stays on my skin forever. The older I get the worse it becomes.”

“How old are you?” Gentle so gentle over Wade’s bare scalp, a soft hush when Wade shuddered. “How long have you been collecting scars? Logan said he fought in all the wars with you, what does that mean? How old are you?”

Wade hesitated, wet his lips and steeled himself for shock and rejection before finally admitting, “Logan and I met during the war of 1812. I’d recently lost my mate Vanessa and when war broke out I went and lost myself in the fighting. Men like Logan and I-- you find each other when you’re the only ones walking off a battlefield full of dead men.”

“1812.” Peter repeated, and unbelievably, his beautiful mouth tipped up in a smile. “That’s amazing. So you-- you’re a hundred years old? Older?”

“I’m not sure of my exact birthday.” Wade swallowed, pressed at Peter's waist coaxingly. “You’re not going to ask about Vanessa?”

“I’m so sorry you had to lose her.” Peter inched closer, lips parting over a shaky sigh when Wade’s hold tightened. “She was your first mate? Have you-- have you had one since?”

Just you. “...no.” Wade shook his head. “I never thought I’d get another chance at a scent match and a soul bond.”

“Oh.” Another sigh, this one even more unsteady. “A hundred years you’ve been collecting scars, you’ve bonded and lost her, and now you and I-- um, you and I--” the Omega bit at his lip shyly. “You’re beautiful, Wade. Incredible. I wish I knew all your stories.”

“Stick around.” Wade waggled his eyebrows to break the tension, and obligingly, Peter laughed. “I’ll teach you a thing or two.”

“Plan on it.” Peter finally leaned away, clearing his throat and blinking the last of the daze from his eyes. “Chores?”

“I thought you were going to take a nap.” Wade stood gingerly, stretching his sore muscles until the hurt bled away. “Go lay down, Omega. I’ll wake you in time for dinner.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Wade jerked his head towards the cabin, then turned away so he wouldn’t be tempted to follow Peter to bed. “Go on. See you tonight.”

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

It wasn’t easy for Peter to wake up in a cold cabin, or stumble from the bed to splash ice water on his face to help with chores, but it was easy to look up with a smile for the Alpha when Wade offered him a cup of too strong coffee to help him face the day.

It wasn’t easy to learn how to milk the goat, or to dry his clothes when Peter inevitably knocked the milk bucket over, or to keep the goat tethered tight enough to not move too far but not so tight that the ornery thing yelled at him the entire time.

But oh it was easy to blush when Wade looked up and caught Peter shirtless as he tried to wring out the wet, the Alpha’s eyes lighting red and scent charging eager for a few breathless seconds.

And it really wasn’t easy to force himself to eat red meat, but this life required more energy than Peter was used to. He couldn’t survive on beans, eggs and bread forever, so he sat down for dinner each night and ate tiny bites so his stomach wouldn’t hurt.

It wasn’t easy, but it was so very easy to trill sweetly when Wade tried so hard to pile mushrooms and wild carrots on the plate along with nuts and berries he found around the property.

“I thought you said I had to find my own salad.” Peter teased one night as Wade produced an entire bowl of gathered greens. “Are you a gatherer now, Wade?”

“It took you so long to milk the goat, I figured I should help you out with the salad thing.” Wade deadpanned, and Peter laughed at him, clear and cheerful and the Alpha only rumbled in response, closing his eyes to inhale sweet happy Omega scent.

Nothing about this life was easy, but it was so easy to live this life with Wade, Peter found himself forgetting this all had an expiration date.

He could stay here forever.

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

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#ncts fics #spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson #cable #time travel #abo dynamics #soulmates #hank pym #alpha wade wilson #omega peter parker

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

It Had To Be You

Ch.19: Wild Girl // Story Masterlist

Fandom: The Flash

Pairings: Barry Allen x Original Female Character

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Barry struggles to help Belén get a hold on her powers' darker side. At the same time, they have to worry about the fact Iris is getting closer to figuring out who they really are to the city.

{Previous chapters here}

"You want me to...what?" Belén looked straight ahead at the STAR Labs training field in despair.

Beside her stood Barry, in his Flash suit with his hood off, who once again explained to her the motive of this visit. "You can't let your powers control you, Bells. It's quite simple actually. You-"

"Um, I believe the one that turns into a poisonous flower is me, Barry. No flower powers, no opinion."

"Fair enough," Barry conceded with his hands held up. "You said that when you 'change' it was usually because of some radical emotion you were feeling at the time."

"Yeah, when I was mad or frustrated actually."

"But you never actually learned to control it?"

"Um...no, that would be a definite no."

"And that's why we're here today, to help you gain control."

Belén once again looked at the empty field before them. Barry told her no one from STAR Labs knew about their little visit and no one would know about future ones till she was ready to talk about her untapped powers.

"I don't...even know how," Belén crossed her arms self consciously.

"And that's why we're here," Barry took her arms and gently put them to her sides. "I'm not an expert, but I do have some training on my side okay?"

"Are you gonna shoot me like Oliver did with you?" she innocently asked.

Barry laughed and shook his head. "No, I promise I will not shoot you. I don't do that sort of training."

"...you promise?" Belén asked quietly, still overly guilty she'd let Oliver do that to him the last time he was in the city.

Barry smiled at her, still answering her despite thinking it was obvious those tactics weren't his style. He stepped closer to her, lowering his head a bit to touch noses. "You think I'd shoot my girlfriend?"

Belén blushed. She felt like a teenage girl honestly with all the heat in her face and the jolt her heart kept giving. It'd been a couple of days since their first date so they were still getting used to their new relationship. It involved a lot of blushing, shy touching and some kisses here and there.

"Maybe to get back at me for Oliver's arrow tricks?"

Barry lightly chuckled. "No, I'm getting him back later on. Now, c'mon, you can do it Miss Azalea."

"If you say so," she took in a breath to calm her nerves. "How...how do I even start?"

"We need to trigger it first of all, and once we have it, we need you to learn a way to hold it off until you decide to change back."

"Oh, right, easy-peasy," Belén crossed her arms. "Except I told you it only happens when I get mad or frustrated."

"So then I just have to annoy you? I can do that," Barry grinned and took off without giving her a chance to ask what he had in mind.

She barely shifted her feet when a strong gust of wind pushed her backwards. She stumbled for a couple of seconds, blinking wide and fast, and then was hit with the same force. "Wait-" she nearly fell forwards but Barry returned again and made her do the opposite.

He went back and forth, truly irritating the hell out of her because she didn't have the opportunity to get her balance back.

"BAR-" but she whirled in her spot again. On one try, she actually fell to the ground. When her eyes snapped open, there was a new wildness sitting in them. A rapid scaly green crawled over her skin afterwards. "STOP!" she roared and jumped back on her feet.

Barry came to a skidded stop, stunned to see her change. Belén had narrowed eyes on him and without a warning shot a vine right at him that smacked him to the ground. With a groan, Barry opened his eyes to see the sky up above.

Well, at least it worked, he thought though he was sure there were some fine bruises forming on his back. Thank god for the super healing.

Belén started blowing her poison which, in her state, turned out to be stronger-packed with poison than thought. Barry got on his feet and coughed for a moment due to the poison. He started to run around her just like he usually would but this time Belén conjured up a a series of vines and spun on her feet to swing them at Barry. The speedster crashed straight into it and was thrown a great length away.

"That one actually hurt, Barry pushed himself upright. He saw Belén was coming towards her with the same strange wild eyes and frankly, it did scare him a little knowing she wasn't in full control. He was sure, though, that with the right training, she would beat it. "Bells?" he called to her. "It's time to reel it back!"

But she kept coming.

"Belén?" he called louder as he stood up. "Belén, I know you can hear me! C'mon, take control!" She drew one arm back, getting ready to attack again. Barry hook his hand at her, frantically calling to her. "Belén! I'm not fighting you anymore, see!?"

She growled and fired boomerang-like bits of vines with thorns all around them. Barry sped out of the way and came up from behind, ramming her to the ground. She gasped and Barry saw how quickly the scaly green vanished from her skin. Her usual warmth filled her eyes soon afterwards, signaling she was back.

"I'm sorry..." Barry apologized and got off her.

Belén groaned and rubbed the back of her head, groggily looking around. "I couldn't get back, could I?" Barry's face said it all. Belén sighed and covered her face with her hands. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, you just..." Barry pursed his lips and thought about it, "...kind of kicked my ass."

"Well if I'm gonna do that I'd rather do it as myself," Belén pushed herself up to her feet and fixed herself up. "This was a mistake."

"What? No! It wasn't-"

Belén raised an eyebrow at him, none too pleased he was trying to downgrade whatever she'd done. "I wasn't in control and if you hadn't knocked me down, I probably would've actually hurt you."

"Belén, c'mon," Barry walked up to her and took hold of her by the arms, "You've been suppressing this side of your powers so it's natural that they're gonna be harder to control but-"

Belén shrugged his arms off her and stepped back. "Then maybe it's best if I just leave them alone. Maybe if I let them stay inside they'll just...go away."

"I don't...I don't think it works that way," Barry hated the mortified look on her face.

"I don't want to hurt people," Belén whispered. "So maybe...maybe for now it's just best to leave things alone. I-I need to think..."

"Belén-"

But the woman shook her head, meaning the conversation was over. "We're done," her order was frail and quiet, but its finality stood out.

~ 0 ~

"Your brother hasn't been answering his damn phone," Angie told Maritza the moment the latter walked into Angie's apartment. "And for that matter, he hasn't been around for days."

Maritza would've liked to roll her eyes at Angie and tell her off for being so annoying but in this case...she happened to be right. Rayan was slowly getting...weird. She didn't know what it was - nor did Angie or Noah - but Rayan was acting differently. No longer was he all a genius put together. There were moments where he...spazzed out. He had mood swings, moods that he never really exhibited.

"I think we should try that warehouse," Angie's voice brought Maritza back to the present. "It's the only place where he could be."

Maritza agreed it was a good idea and so the two headed out of the apartment in search of Rayan.

~ 0 ~

Through his many problems, Barry could only manage so far to only add new ones. Rushing into the city's morgue caused him to collide with Singh, knocking over the man's drink over his new coat, and partially dropping the drink on Barry himself. After dozens of apologies, he moved over to Joe to discuss the newest crime scene left behind last night.

"What's with all the water?" Joe inquired, gesturing to the emergency sprinklers on the ceiling. "Did the sprinkler system go off or something?"

"No, I checked all the sprinklers. They're all intact. But look at this," Barry led him to where the coroner's corpse laid on the floor. He bent down beside it and, with some tweezers, picked what looked to be like a small particle of ice off the ground.

Joe titled his head, confused. "What is that, ice?"

"Mm-hmm." Barry then pushed the coroner's shirt to reveal purple bruises left on the stomach. "The coroner has multiple impact bruises on his torso, all the size of a tennis ball. Judging by the amount of ice and water on the ground, I'm guessing he was killed by hail."

Joe was even more lost. "Hail? In here?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think this was Snart?"

Barry straightened up and shook his head. "No, his cold-gun couldn't have done this."

Eddie moved over to the two holding a tape recorder. "Joe, we got something. The Coroner's office just installed an automated dictation system. Listen to this."

He played them the tape which revealed that Mark Clydon was alive and searching for the coo responsible for his brother's, Clyde, death. In the end, the coroner gave up the name that turned out to be Joe's.

Needless to say, Barry felt an extra layer of pressure to find this new metahuman quicker than normal.

~ 0 ~

Iris shuffled papers for one of Mason's stories, barely paying attention as she was busy looking around. She was pretty bored without her close friend in, so when she saw Barry coming in she perked up at the little distraction she would soon have. Leaving her papers on Mason's desk, she walked for him. But as she neared, she picked up on some odd, yet totally familiar, things in him.

The moment she got close enough to be heard without shouting, she voiced them. "Hmm," she crossed her arms, "That nervous face, the shifting, and the sole little Azalea in your hand could only mean one thing…" her lips widened with a teasing smile, "You had your first couple fight."

Barry saw no point in denying it. Sooner or later Belén would tell her something. "Something like that," he settled for.

Iris chuckled. "What was it? Week-a-versary? Oh! Or you-"

"Iris," Barry cut in sharply, "It's not the moment to be funny. I need to see Bells."

"Well I'm sorry to inform you but she's not here. She left early for dance practice."

"Damn," Barry mumbled.

"You know," Iris began, coming closer and letting her arms fall on her sides, "I could help you out."

"No offense, Iris, but I don't think you can…"

"Sure I can," Iris assured. "You just let me get her to a place and watch how things get sorted out." Barry gave her an unsure look, clearly preferring to do this on his own. Iris nudged him, pegging him on. "C'mon, I can help. Let me help. Pleeeease?"

Barry knew when he was at a loss, and against Iris West he was always at one. "Alright, fine."

Iris clapped and cheered, one main idea already forming in mind. "You won't regret it, I promise!" While she hugged him, Barry was still yet to feel so confident.

~ 0 ~

Maritza and Angie both walked into the warehouse they'd found ages ago to come around and practice their powers. It was the same one Rayan took an office for himself before coming to find Maritza and revealing he was alive.

"Rayan?" Maritza called as the women looked around. "You around?"

"Clearly not," Angie had walked into the office already. Maritza followed in a couple seconds later and found Angie gazing over a couple empty pill bottles on the desk. Angie picked one of them up and tilted her head. "These are headache pills. I bought some last week and they've all gone missing."

"My brother is not a pill abuser," Maritza warned Angie not to even go there. She came further inside and took a look at the state of the room. It was a mess, even for Rayan. "My brother is not okay..."

"You think?" Angie sarcastically gasped, making Maritza glare. "Oh c'mon, I'm not an idiot. Rayan's been...losing it, for a lack of a better word. I think it's your sister's fault."

"Belén did nothing," Maritza frowned. She was still fairly upset about Belén choosing the Flash over her family, but what Rayan was exhibiting had nothing to do with her actions. She suspected it was something biological that was hurting Rayan but up until now he hadn't shown anything besides headaches.

"Then where is he?" Angie gestured to the empty room.

Maritza went around the computer and pushed Angie out of the way so she could pull out a drawer. Rayan had a hidden laptop inside and so Maritza pulled it out to see what was inside. Unfortunately, he'd shattered the screen.

Angie's eyes widened. "Well, he's getting worse. Why do you think he would do that?"

Maritza decided not to answer. She put the laptop back inside the drawer and gazed at the papers over the desk. It appeared Rayan was taking notes for something. She grabbed a couple and skimmed some lines.

We're all losing. It's over. We must end it.

"Rayan...what the hell...?" Maritza lowered the papers and looked up at Angie, for the first time with honesty since they'd met. "We need to find him.

~ 0 ~

"I have never bowled a day in my life," Belén sighed as she and Iris walked down a bowling alley. She was only mildly interested in the place but she knew how much Iris loved the place so she just went with it.

"Easy win then," Iris rubbed her hands with a widened smirk.

Belén rolled her eyes. "I would think so. Why am I here again?"

But her answer did not come from Iris herself. She spotted Barry and Eddie halfway down and blamed herself for being so clueless this time. When she glanced at Iris the woman was cheekily smiling, turning and walking backwards to the guys.

"Iris West, one day...I will get a clue," Belén weakly pointed at her friends and followed after.

"Hey guys," Iris greeted, going straight to Eddie who was tying his bowling shoes on the couch.

"You are one sneak," Belén promptly accused Barry who'd gotten up from the other couch. Barry stuttered and somehow tried saying a sentence that involved apologizing. "I'm not mad with you, Barry, I hope you knew," she spoke quieter while Iris and Eddie got ready to bowl. "I'm mad with myself because...you know…"

Barry nodded, feeling relieved but not enough knowing she was still conflicted with herself. "You shouldn't be. Maybe I pushed you too far-"

"No, you didn't. I'm just...I don't know what to do," Belén admitted with a bitter chuckle. "I don't want to hurt anyone but the powers...they're my powers and I should be able to use them."

"Exactly," Barry was glad to see her perspective had changed since the last time they saw each other. "And we can work on it. Everyday. I want to help you. Can I?"

Belén looked to the side. She felt she was being overly complicated but she couldn't see herself agreeing right there. She didn't feel...ready. "I need some time. I don't think I can jump back into that training again tomorrow. I can't."

Barry took his win where he could. It was a compromise in the end. He wouldn't push her but she wouldn't let it go.

"Hey?" Iris called, making both metas look at her. "We bowling or what?"

"I've never bowled in my life," Belén sighed to Barry.

"I can teach you," he said, now eager to play. He took Belén's hand and led her towards the other couple.

Iris cheered as they began to play. Barry took his first turn, and with Belén intently watching him, he made sure to take his best shot. He swung the bowling ball down the bowling lane and made a perfect strike. Gasping in awe, Belén clapped for him. In his excitement, Barry did a little dance of triumph that involved sliding his feet and waving his arms.

Belén laughed for him as he came back. "That was adorable," she commented while his face flushed.

"Yikes," Iris, too, was laughing from her spot with Eddie, the latter trying not to laugh, "Belén, it's not too late to switch for a nice cop."

"Oh, thanks," Barry sarcastically said, glancing at her sharply.

"Aw, I like scientists better," Belén shrugged, winking at Barry.

"Thanks," Eddie mimicked Barry's sarcasm.

Belén winced and sheepishly smiled at him. "No offence."

"Let's just let Bells take her turn," Iris offered. "I can help you if you want-"

"No you won't," Eddie yanked her back the steps she'd taken towards the other couple.

"What? Why?" Iris frowned.

Barry had taken Belén back to the bowling ball retrieving space. To answer Iris' question, Eddie pointed as the other pair moved for the bowling lanes. Barry placed his hand over Belén's hand that held the bowling ball. He instructed her how to bend and move her arm. Together, they moved in sync and swung the ball down the lane. Although it wasn't a perfect strike as Barry's had been, she still managed to knock eight out of the ten pins. Belén squealed in delight and whirled around, practically jumping on Barry and giving him a hug.

"That's why," Eddie told Iris.

She gasped and looked up at him. "Is that why you took me golfing? To hold me?" Eddie cheekily smiled and went for another bowling ball.

As the night progressed, Iris proved to be a better bowler as she and Eddie increased their scores. Midway through, Belén felt so bad she was causing their loss she told Barry it was better for him to go solo.

"That's no fun!" he shook his head, plopping down on the couch beside her. He reached for one of the french fries she had on her plate over her lap.

"You know, I'm making you lose," Belén said, making a face at Iris who'd taken a seat on the other couch. "And I gotta be honest, I'd feel a little less guilty if someone-" Iris looked up with a wide smirk, "-didn't tease you about it."

"Good going Iris, you're making my girlfriend feel bad," Barry shot her a sarcastic look. Belén whacked his arm, making him laugh. He only stopped when he caught Belén yawning behind her hand. "You tired?"

"A little. I was up early today," she nodded.

"Maybe we should call it a night, then," he looked back at Iris and Eddie as he came back with a soda in hand.

"I'm sorry," Belén apologized as she left her plate on the middle table and got up with Barry.

"Don't worry about it," Iris waved it off. "I'm just glad you two are fine again. Whatever it was you were fighting about…"

Barry and Belén exchanged looks, both agreeing not to touch that subject right now. Barry ushered her towards the counter where they would switch in their bowling shoes for their regular shoes. Denying Iris and Eddie's offer for a lift, they headed on their own towards Belén's home.

"This was oddly fun," Belén said as they watched Iris and Eddie drive away.

"Oddly?" Barry quickly looked at her, suddenly afraid their fight was still an ongoing thing.

"I'm not exactly the sports girl," Belén gestured to herself with a light chuckle. "I don't like them very much."

"To be honest this is probably the only sport I was ever good at," Barry shrugged, "In case you were hoping you scored yourself a sporty boyfriend…"

"I'm happy with who I'm with," Belén reached for his hand. "My singing scientist."

"We're never letting that go, are we?" Barry laughed and shook his head.

"Nope! I've still got the video on my phone," and Belén could promise him right there and then that the video would always be there with him.

Barry brought them to Belén's front porch and with one glance at the driveway Belén concluded that her sister wasn't home.

"I wonder where the hell Maritza went," she thought out loud as she began to check for the lights from the living room window. "She's teaching tomorrow in the morning. And Axel..."

"It's eleven..." Barry said after checking his phone for the time. "Aren't four year olds supposed to be sleeping by now...?"

"Mhm," Belén was now checking her phone as well. She found one text message from Maritza sent over an hour ago saying Axel was left with their neighbor, Mrs. Andrews, and was waiting for Belén herself to go pick him up. "Oh my God!" Belén's eyes widened in alarm. "I should've picked him an hour ago!"

"Well, it's not like it's far," Barry reminded Belén the house was literally just across the street from them.

"Funny," Belén playfully rolled her eyes. "I need to go get him. Hopefully Mrs. Andrews is still awake."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, that's fine. You have work in the morning too, I remember," Belén wagged a finger at him. "But thanks for offering."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, then?" Barry reached for her hand, gently stroking small circles over the back of her hand. "If...you want...?"

Belén chuckled. "I want. Definitely want." She leaned forwards and kissed him goodnight, something that left them both blushing.

From there, the two split. Belén had an interesting time trying to figure out where it was her sister had gone to. Axel didn't even seem to know, and much less Mrs. Andrews.

~ 0 ~

Mark Mardon would have expected anything nowadays, but his hideout's door flinging off its hinges was not one of them. A man in black and grey leather walked in with a complete straight face. His brunette strands seemed about the only messy thing about him.

"You have got to clean up," Rayan remarked like this was just going to be a casual greet and meet.

"Who the hell are you?" Mardon stood up, hands extended to threaten them.

"Put the hands down please, it's gonna be a waste of time if we fight first then talk," Rayan walked in, looking around the cluttered and dirty apartment.

"Why would I talk with you?"

"Because we essentially want the same things," Rayan stopped on a side, hands behind his back.

"I doubt that," Mardon snapped, bur Rayan remained at ease.

"Your brother died because of an officer and the Flash. More importantly, he died because of that Particle Accelerator. It's only fair we take them out in retaliation."

"I want bigger," Mardon clarified his intentions.

"Course you do, and on that I believe we differ but if we work together we can take it all down. I, personally, want the Flash but I'm willing to compromise."

Mardon scowled at the man. "I don't need any help!"

"If you would-"

"I said no!" Mardon practically screamed his powers off but Rayan deflected any potential threatening away from his body.

Telekinesis was by far the superior metahuman power, he thought. He also felt smarter, incredibly smarter than your average human. "I feel like you still wanna try your own luck against the officer. Do it. And when it fails, I'll be back to discuss how we can work together." Before he left, though, he made sure to leave behind a way to be in contact. He was sure Mardon would come around eventually.

~ 0 ~

"Hellooooo?"

Cisco looked up from a half-finished metal wand-looking device. He beamed at the second call for someone.

"Cisco! Boom!"

"Sweet!" Cisco laughed as he turned on his chair to greet Belén and Axel. "Axel! Welcome back!"

"You are not in charge of him anymore," Belén warned as Axel ran up to the empty chair beside Cisco.

"What are we going to make today, Cisco?" Axel pushed his chair closer to Cisco's, eager to see what was on Cisco's computer screen.

"Uh, you are going to make nothing," Belén warned them both before they got any ideas. Maritza entrusted her to watch Axel and that's what she would do. After getting back late last night, Maritza asked Belén if she could look after Axel for the day while she went off to work. Mrs. Andrews had other plans for the day and since Belén had the day off...it was all set.

"We are," Axel whispered to Cisco, though not as quiet as he thought because Belén was warning Cisco with a glare not to even try it.

"So...you want to check something cool out?" Cisco gestured to his computer screen.

"Always," Belén moved around to Cisco's other side since Axel was already leaning forwards on the right.

"I remembered the laat time we had a run-in with Mardon, Clyde Mardon-"

"Em - you mean that period in which you all decided I shouldn't know anything about metahumans?"

"Let bygones be bygones, Belén," Cisco said in a rushed manner, wincing at Belén's 'Mhm' in return. "I was tinkering with something to help attract unbound atmospheric electrons."

"I speak English, not nerd."

"Well Barry understood it."

"Mm, I rest my case," Belén patted Cisco's shoulder.

Cisco looked up at her, obviously offended. "For real?" Belén just shrugged in response. Cisco shook his head and continued to explain. "Basically, this thing would work like a sponge and suck up all of the particles in the air that allows Mardon to control the weather."

"Oh, that sounds good," Belén smiled at his excitement.

"Yeah it does!"

"Yeah!" Axel repeated in the same excited voice Cisco had even though he knew the boy didn't have a clue about the conversation. He decided to instead give Axel a live show by creating a new weapon that would win them the fight against Mardon.

At some point, Belén heard her phone vibrate from her purse and went to answer it. It was a text from Iris, and its content was...alarming. She quickly forgone the text to dial Iris instead. She motioned Cisco to keep an eye on Axel while she talked out in the hallway. "Iris, what is this nonsense?"

"Well, you tell me," Iris countered. "Mason showed me some pictures-"

"Iris I thought we discussed this - Mason is an idiot. You shouldn't even be following his so called 'lead'."

Iris thought she should point out that if she - Belén - had the confidence in her to tell her what exactly went on with STAR Labs and its workers, she wouldn't be following Mason's lead at all. But instead, Belén kept it all quiet. "I just wanted to know what was really going on with Dr. Wells and-"

"There's nothing, Iris," Belén sighed, rubbing a hand over her temple. "There's no story - I should know."

'Yeah, you should,' Iris thought rather bitterly.

"Bells?" Barry's voice made the ombre-blonde jump on her spot.

Quickly hanging up - much to Iris' irritation - she turned around. "H-hi, Barry," she greeted, hoping to God he hadn't heard anything, especially Iris' name.

"What did Iris want?"

Dammit, Belén gritted her teeth behind her closed lips. "Just...work stuff," she began her weak explanation.

"Why are you holding your phone like that?" Barry inquired after noticing she was practically clutching her phone to her chest.

"Hmm?" Belén looked down at her hands and quickly moved them to her sides. "No reason, just...stressed. What are you doing back?" she decided it was best to slowly lead him into the cortex to prevent any other questions.

"There was an incident with Mardon. He tried attacking Joe and I earlier."

"Is Joe alright!?"

"He's fine, but he's confined to the station now so...Cisco?" Barry gave a call, making Cisco look up from Axel. "How are we doing with the, uh…?"

"Wizard wand!" Cisco exclaimed, causing Axel to giggle and wave his finger at Barry and Belén.

"Like Harry Potter!"

"Uh, no, he has a wand," Cisco reminded him and pushed Axel's finger don.

"K, see that's why I don't want you in charge of my nephew," Belén crossed her arms and shook her head at Cisco.

"How does it work?" Barry asked after struggling not to laugh.

"Think of it like an active lightning rod," Cisco said and got up from his chair. "You just point it at the sky, and it'll suck up whatever energy's floating around it like a sponge."

"And it'll stop Mardon?"

"At the very least slow him down," Cisco pointed at her with the wand. "If there's no atmospheric electrons available to him, there's no way for him to control the weather."

"Sounds great," Belén laughed.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go get this to the station and explain how it works for Joe," Cisco said, understanding the situation was even worse there. "Bye Axel, and remember? Sonic?"

Axel happily threw his arms in the air. "Boom!"

"CISCO!" Belén shouted but Cisco had already dashed for the exit. Barry had to laugh himself as he turned back for the desk. Belén decided to leave that behind to focus on something a little more important. "Um...would it be wrong to ask of you like a big big favor when we're like barely starting to date?"

"Well, considering we've been friends for months more, I think it should be fine," Barry tried to humor her. He was no fool - he knew Belén was trying to hide something.

"I have to go into work just for a bit - tiny bit of a second - like a quarter really, well not exactly, it'd be more but you probably got the jist-"

Barry surprised her by planting a kiss on her that lasted well over a minute. They missed the quiet "yuck" Axel uttered while he got into some drawings on the desk.

"U-uh...w-w-what, what...was that...for?" Belén blinked pretty fast afterwards, trying to catch her breath.

"Just...thought it would be nice," Barry crookedly smiled, although now he was becoming self-conscious about what he had just done. "But, maybe now...that I think about it...it might have not been the best way, to, um...to interject…"

"N-n-no, that...was excellent," Belén flushed bright red, "I mean...feel free to do that again...yeah, anytime."

Barry laughed, slowly returning to normal. "Alright, so, this favor...what was it exactly?"

"Right," Belén sucked in a breath. "Um, I just really need to go back to CC Pictures to talk to someone. Can you take care of Axel for a bit?"

"Yeah, no problem. Want a lift?"

"I...don't...I really need to do this on my own," Belén warned, knowing Barry's persistence in helping others.

"Then I stay outside with Axel," Barry compromised after getting the sense this was something more complex than just a simple pop back into the workplace.

"There's no way you're letting me go out on my own are you?"

"Nope."

"Fine," Belén went to grab her purse off the desk. "Axel? Come here, please."

Axel obediently went to his aunt. "Are we going to go help Cisco?"

"No, you're going to stay with Barry for a tiny bit, okay?" Belén explained to him what would happen in the next couple of minutes.

Axel glanced at Barry for a second. "Can you make a wand like Harry Potter?"

"I can make a cooler one," Barry easily replied to, earning himself a big grin from the boy.

It was all he needed to have Axel's comfort and trust. So, he took hold of Belén and Axel and in a second he had them inches from the CC Pictures. After pleading Barry for him to stay in his spot with Axel, Belén went inside the place. First thing she did was locate Mason. It wasn't difficult catching him on a coffee break at the snack table.

"Mason?" she called while making a straight beeline for the man. "We need to talk."

Mason took a short sip from his coffee mug. "Isn't it your day off today?"

"Why the hell did you insist on the stupid STAR Labs story with Iris when I specifically told you there was nothing more!?"

"Because I didn't believe you? I thought that was self-explanatory?" Mason arched one eyebrow.

Belén was in no mood to entertain his common sarcasm. "You listen to me right now you overbearing-" she began jabbing her finger on his chest, "-self-righteous man, you better leave my friend Iris out of this ridiculous story. Stop putting ideas in her head!"

"I think-"

"I don't give a damn about what you think!" she snapped. "You will stop, or I will come back and make you wish I never even entered this place."

"Such determination," Mason's observation didn't make Belén falter. This wasn't a game for her - it meant Iris' credibility as well as safety from any potential crazies who took her words seriously.

"You've been warned," Belén turned on her heels and strode out of the place without so much of a glance.

True to his word, Barry had remained outside caring for Axel. When he saw Belén coming towards them it wasn't difficult to see something had changed in her. "What's wrong?" He went for the direct question.

"Nothing, you wanna walk instead?" Belén went past him into a hasty walk.

"U-uh, sure," Barry hurried a little to catch up with her.

"I want Jitters."

"Okay," Barry tried leaning forwards to see her face, "Are you okay?"

"Honestly, no," Belén shook her head. "But don't worry about it I'm taking care of it!"

"Really?" Barry was now eyeing her balled up fist in her jacket pocket. He stopped and abruptly grabbed her by the same arm, revealing a mildly emerald green fist. "Because it doesn't look like it." Belén was staring at her hand with terrified wide eyes. Gently lowering it while also covering it with his own, Barry made a step closer to her and tried to understand again. "I want to help, so tell me how to help."

Swallowing hard, Belén stuffed her hand back in her pocket. "It's Mason again. He's...he has this crazy idea that there's something suspicious going on with Dr. Wells. And he doesn't stop there, oh no, he now has Iris asking questions."

"What?" Barry frowned. "What could he possibly have against Dr. Wells?"

"I don't know!" Belén exclaimed. "He knows what happened to Simon Stagg. Apparently, nobody's heard from him or seen him since the night you stopped Danton Black."

"Okay…"

"But he's wrong, God everything is so wrong! And I'm trying to make things better but it just doesn't seem to want to be fixed!"

Barry quickly wrapped her into a hug - along with the help of Axel - and kissed her hair. "You shouldn't leave all this for yourself, Bells. I can help you - I want to help you."

"Then please help me because I don't know what else to do," Belén admitted.

"Of course," Barry barely got the two words before he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He saw the text message urging him to get to the police station. "I gotta go," he said to Belén who didn't need further explanation than his facial expression. With a kiss on her cheek he was out of the street in a second.

Belén resorted to making her way back to STAR Labs on foot as she had originally planned minutes ago - though stopping first by Jitters. By the time she got back to the building, she heard from Cisco and Caitlin about the terrible thing that happened back at the station involving Barry's boss - Captain Singh - landing in the hospital thanks to Mardon.

"I should have been there to help," Belén couldn't help blame herself after hearing the story. She was looking at Axel who'd taken interest in drawing on a lone paper Caitlin supplied for him along with a pencil. He was deadset on a new Harry Potter wand.

"Where were you anyways?" Cisco curiously asked, but upon receiving a sharp look from Caitlin he quickly added, "I mean, just...just out of curiosity...though if it was some date with Barry I would rather not hear it."

Belén laughed and shook her head. "It wasn't that, honestly. It's...well...I know Barry is going to tell both of you at some point so might as well get over it. One of my co-workers thinks there's something weird going on with Dr. Wells."

"Weird as in how?" Caitlin crossed her arms, trying to understand.

"Like, he's not who he says he is or...I don't know, maybe he's hiding something?" Belén shrugged, thinking it even more ridiculous with each time she said it out loud.

"That can't be," Caitlin scoffed and went back to the desk. Cisco, meanwhile, became silently pensive. "Dr. Wells is a fantastic man."

"I think it just might be a gruge from the accident with the accelerator," Belén admitted. "But I just don't like the fact that this co-worker is bringing Iris into it."

"I'm sure everything will work out fine," Caitlin sent her a reassuring smile.

"I guess," Belén sighed and started gathering her things. "Anyways, I think I'll be heading home. Hopefully everything works out for Barry's boss. Keep me posted okay?"

"Yeah, goodnight," Caitlin said, watching the woman pick up her nephew.

"Goodnight," Cisco mumbled and also watched Belén leave.

Caitlin was shutting off one of the computers when she noticed Cisco's extra-pensive demeanor. "Cisco, you okay?"

"Honestly, no, Bells is making me think about Dr. Wells' true persona…"

"What?" frowned Caitlin. "You don't actually think what her co-worker says is true do you?"

"No, no, it's more than that. Joe said that maybe Dr. Wells was somehow involved in of Barry's Mother's death and her murder."

Caitlin wondered how many idiotic things she would be hearing about Wells that night. "That's absurd."

"Yeah, I know, and that's what I said, and we proved that that wasn't the case, but I'm just saying, some things aren't adding up."

"Like what, for example?"

Cisco motioned for Caitlin to follow him into one of the side rooms. "Come here, look at this." He stopped in front of another computer and typed away. "The night we trapped the Reverse-Flash in the force-field, he escaped because the containment system failed, but I checked that data three times, and the super-capacitors were still fully charged when he got out. The numbers don't add up, Caitlin. There's no reason that the containment system should have failed."

Caitlin could understand his confusion but to say that Wells had something to do with it was beyond ridiculous. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation."

"One perfectly good explanation is that Wells did something to the trap."

"Are you suggesting that Dr. Wells is in league with The Man in the Yellow Suit? I'm... We all saw that thing nearly kill him that night."

"Yeah, nearly…"

"Cisco, what you're saying doesn't make any sense. That's crazy."

Cisco turned to Caitlin, very serious, and asked, "Can you keep Wells out of STAR Labs tomorrow morning?"

~ 0 ~

"You went to who?" Angie's high-itched voice filled the apartment without even trying.

Rayan popped in another headache pill and motioned her to wait. After quickly swallowing it without water, he repeated his story again. "I went to Mardon - the new meta that's causing trouble. I knew he was probably going on a hunt for the West detective and-"

"-you thought you would just strike a deal?" Noah was just as confused as Angie. "What for? I thought we decided not to bring anymore in? It's a nuisance-"

"-tell me about it," Rayan still eyed the man with regret for Maritza's choice of bringing him in. "New recruits tend to be useless."

Noah ignored the insult and got back to business. "So what the hell did you even see this guy for? Gonna cause a big storm over the city?"

"I went back because I saw an opportunity to get to the Flash," Rayan got up from the couch. "I want to know who he is." Noah exchanged a confused glance with Angie.

"What for?" Angie was dumb enough to ask out loud.

"Because I want to know who the hell managed to get my sister to leave her family!" Rayan's shout made her flinch.

Noah rolled his eyes. She had to ask. "Who cares who's behind the mask," he said. "I say we just start taking whatever we want."

Angie perked up at that idea. "I can get behind that!"

"NO!" Rayan once again screamed and this time he caused a portrait hanging behind Angie to crash straight on the floor.

The blonde woman growled as she saw her graduation frame all broken. "STOP DOING THAT!"

Rayan flung his hands to the side and threw both metas to the ground, using his telekinesis to pin them there. "Let me get this straight for you," his voice was dark and final, "I'm going to find out who the Flash is, and when I do I'm gonna kill him. And maybe then my sister will reconsider her life choices."

Despite their attempts to get off the grounds, Angie and Noah found themselves stuck there until Rayan felt otherwise. Still, they could both see a small trickle of blood oozing from Rayan's nose.

~ 0 ~

Knock, knock, went the door of the West residence. Instead of being received by Iris, Belén was received by none other than her new boyfriend. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?" she tilted her head in confusion but nonetheless allowed Barry to take her bag and let her inside.

"Slow work day," he said cheery.

Belén hummed in thought and spotted Iris coming out of the kitchen, apparently ending a phone call.

"I can't get my dad to answer," she frowned, leaving her phone on the coffee table. "Hey Bells, what's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Belén said politely.

"Right now?" Iris made a face. "I don't get into work for another two hours. Barry and I were about to get lunch if you wanted to…"

"No, I want to do it here away from all things Mason," Belén said sharply, letting her know what the subject was going to be about.

"Oh…" Iris' eyes flickered from Barry to Belén, wondering which one would be lying to her face today.

"I don't know what he's been telling you but you can't listen to him," began Belén.

"I don't know what's real and what's not, but all I know is that he's got some sort of big article coming out about Dr. Wells," Iris shrugged.

This was new information to both Belén and Barry.

"What kind of article?" asked Barry.

"The sort that exposes him I would say?"

"This is the kind of crap that I'm talking about," Belén slapped a hand to her forehead. "He's gone berserk."

"Look I don't know what he's got written for that article but I can guarantee that I had no part in it." With that clarified, Iris picked up her phone from the coffee table and made a gesture she would be upstairs getting ready for work.

"I tried," Barry began with Belén about the whole ordeal with Mason, "But she keeeps giving me the same responses."

"You think she's not believing in us anymore?" Belén worried they would begin to lose the trust Iris had for them if they kept up all this secrecy.

"I hope not," Barry, too, was also thinking the same thing.

"I guess that's it for me here then," Belén sighed, shaking her head. "I thought I could make a difference but I guess I was just wrong."

"No, c'mon, wait up," Barry grabbed her arm and gently turned her around. "If Iris wants to believe something then we can't force her to change it, and we can't blame ourselves for it either."

"It's our job to protect those we love and right now I feel like Iris is going to get herself into trouble. Remember what happened with that blog of hers?"

"I know," Barry agreed with the gravity of the situation. "But we can't stop it. I mean, the best we can do is just keep an eye on Iris. We won't let any harm come her way. I promise."

Belén fully trusted him, and she trusted herself to be strong enough in case Iris ever needed them.

~ 0 ~

News spread fast about Joe West's abduction, and while Iris was distraught she knew Eddie was doing all that he could to bring her father back. However, things grew worse when she received a call from Mardon himself asking her to come to the waterfront on her own. She wouldn't be alone, she was promised by Barry and Belén who'd been with her at the time. They figured if things came to worst, one of them - most likely Barry - would be able to sneak off to fight as the Flash while Belén stayed with Iris to make sure she was alright.

Before heading off they tried contacting someone at STAR Labs for backup, but no one answered...which was weird for them. But for time's sake they didn't dwell on it. If they had known that Cisco was facing the Reverse Flash himself, revealed to be Wells, perhaps they would have given it a bit more consideration. By the time the trio reached the waterfront, the sky was darkening with rumbling thunder. Immediately, they knew who was behind it.

"Oh my God," Iris was terrified by the sight. She could see in the distance a faint gray boat in the ocean where her father was surely hostage.

"Barry I think we might need to do that disclosure now..." Belén mumbled to him.

Barry agreed with a sigh. He glanced at Iris, sadly, and wondered why it had to be like this. "I'm sorry," he told her before speeding off.

Iris' mouth gaped open and she pointed in the direction he went off in. There weren't words at the moment that she could use.

Belén turned around to her, placing her hands on Iris' shoulders. "And breeeathe, please. Listen Iris this isn't exactly how either of us wanted you to know but…"

"He's the Flash, isn't he?" Iris sucked in a breathe, her eyes flickering from one side to the other.

"Yes, and the only reason we didn't tell you was because..." but she trailed off when she saw a park bench coming directly at them. "DUCK!" she pulled Iris down in time.

Iris winched as the park bench crashed into pieces not too far from them. "What just happened!?"

Belén quickly got back on her feet and spotted the culprit. She gulped. "Iris, you have to leave..."

"What? But I want to know what's going on!" Iris searched for the culprit as well and figured it had to be the man across them who was coming towards them. "Who's that? Enemy of Barry's?" the sharpness in her tone didn't go unnoticed by Belén. She was mad. Mad as hell.

"No...that...that would be my brother," Belén stepped forwards, hands forming into fists.

Iris' eyes widened in alarm. "But...but he's-"

"Crazy, by the looks of it," Belén inwardly sighed. What had her brother come to now? She took another step forwards and raised her hands. "Rayan, whatever you want-"

"It's time to go!" Rayan didn't waste time in openings nor chit-chat. He knew exactly what Mardon was going to do and he needed to get his sister out of there at once.

"Go? Go where!?"

"Away from here, to safety," Rayan calmly stopped a couple feet away from her. "She-" he nodded to Iris, "-is not welcomed."

"How is he still alive?" the indicated woman asked.

"I murdered my captors," Rayan said plainly then returned his attention to Belén. "You coming the easy way or not?"

Belén raised an eyebrow. "You're threatening me now? Is that what we've really come to, Rayan? Seriously?"

"I'm looking for your safety, Belén. I've already warned Maritza and she's getting Axel out of here but-"

"-you've talked to Maritza!?" Belén wondered how that went for her poor sister.

"Let's go," Rayan motioned Belén to come walking towards him but Belén shook her head. "Belén, let's go."

"No, we've got to help these people," Belén glanced back at the water, which was building up into what looked like would be a tsunami. "That's going to take out the city-"

"-which is why we need to leave now-"

"RAYAN!" Belén suddenly screamed, trickles of scaly green going down her cheeks. "Listen to me, dammit! We need to help!"

Rayan balled his fists now, eyes closing for a second. He felt that pain in his head begin to increase. "I don't have time, Belén. I really don't. Let's-"

Belén saw this was going to be a useless argument so she decided to focus on the more important factors around them. "Iris, leave this place. Just...go to STAR Labs. I'll try to help-"

Rayan rolled his eyes and made a motion with his finger for something to come over. Broken metal legs of the park bench he threw at them earlier now shot towards them again. Iris gasped and shut her eyes, expecting to feel the immense pain at any moment. Instead, Belén swung an arm to the side and captured the bench pieces with a vine that wrapped around each piece.

Now furious, she turned on her brother. "GET OUT!"

Rayan was surprised to find the scaly green all over Belén, and even more so when she retaliated against him. Lasso vines tried to capture him so he jumped back a couple steps - a decent distance - and in that time Belén once again urged Iris to get away from them. Not wanting to be a liability for her friend, Iris decided to head over to STAR Labs.

Rayan telekinetically caught the lasso vines, leaving Belén to continuously try to pull them out of his pool of energy. "Amazing, you worry about everyone except your family," Rayan said.

"Are you kidding me!?" Belén openly shouted at him. "You've attacked people - you just tried to hurt someone you knew! You are not the brother I used to have! You're just like any other metahuman the Flash and I catch." She left the vines and conjured up new ones. She swung them like boomerangs at her Rayan but he would deflect them with his fingers.

Belén could hear the pandemonium around them as the waters behind grew bigger and got closer to the city. In one of her distractions, Rayan actually threw her an empty baby stroller and knocked her closer to the ledge. As she got up, she saw Barry, as the Flash, zipping around the coastline over and over.

"If I have to take you unconsciously then I will!" Rayan's warning pulled her back into her fight.

"Try me," she said with no hope of making up after this. She charged on back towards him with every intention of defeating him and putting him away in the pipeline like she once promised.

Thanks to a quick chat with Caitlin, Barry was intending on creating a 'vortex barrier' along the coastline to stop the tsunami. It was the only way to keep everyone safe, he just hoped he was fast enough. On each round that Barry made along the coastline he could see brief glances of Belén trying to strike a man he hadn't seen before. He couldn't figure out who it was, but it looked like the fight was heated.

I need to finish to help her, he pushed himself harder to keep going.

Belén was too enraged with her brother to realize she was losing herself again. The wildness was coursing through her, giving her an extra layer of strength against Rayan. Thorn-covered vines stabbed Rayan's chest and one of his palms. As he screamed, she lunged onto him, tackling him to the ground.

But somehow, it all vanished. Everything from Barry's eyes began to disappear. There was a loud, eerie noise that filled his ears and the next thing he knew he was running under a dark Central City street. He came to an abrupt stop in a familiar intersection and looked around.

He saw the same woman calling for a taxi as he did the previous night. He saw the dog owners, the running man on his cellphone...everything.

Where was he? When was he?

#the flash #barry allen #arrowverseocs #ocappreciation #ocapp #barry allen fics #the flash fics #barry allen imagines #the flash imagines #oc: Belén Palayta #oc: Belen Palayta #fic: it had to be you

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