Being in the lab wouldn’t exactly be put on your top five places to be but you had to be here or else your professor would drop your grade and put you in a not so good place with your grade. Plus, you don’t think your lab partner would exactly be thrilled that you decided to skip out on another lab. You don’t know why, the kid lives for all things science, he probably wouldn’t mind if you weren’t around to screw around or mess up the lab. You know that for a damn fact he likes doing this on his own, considering you’d gone to school with him for most of your life.
You sit on a stool while he stands, your head propped up on your arm as you watch him drip the acid into something that you really hadn’t cared to listen to. Hank always had you covered on the labs, it was a bit of an unspoken agreement that just happened the first week when you two were paired up.
“How much longer? It’s doing nothing.” You huff out, tallying the drops that release from the tube. This was not how you wanted to spend your Friday afternoon.
“We’ve still got three more trials,” Hank says. He bites his lip, brows furrowing beneath the goggles and nose crinkling up. “And it is doing something. It’s turning pink.”
Hank shakes his head, feeling a bit agitated with your reluctance to this subject. Usually, he doesn’t mind when you don’t help but when you get antsy and start asking when it’ll be done or telling him to just cut corners. “Nobody’s going to care if we make up a time for the last trial.”
You watch carefully as the liquid in the beaker flickers a bright pink for just a moment before disappearing. “Holy shit!”
Hank gives you a questioning look as you slink closer to the beaker, watching it with wide eyes and a large smile. It’s weird to see you so interested in it, it settles oddly in his stomach but he pushes it away, happy that you’d finally seen the fun in it.
“That’s amazing!” You look up at him, hand waving in the air and hitting the larger beaker filled with hydrochloric acid, making it spin around on the counter before falling over and splashing onto Hank’s shirt. “Oh shit.”
Hank doesn’t react for a moment before you’re up. You may not pay attention too much in class but you know that spilling acid on your lab partner is a big no-no in the science field. He easily gets to the emergency shower while the professor gets everyone to leave.
“Let me help you.” You say when you see his hands shake as he tries to unbutton his shirt. “Of all the days you choose to wear a button up.”
“Excuse me, Miss It’s-Lame-To-Wear-An-Apron-No-One-Else-Is-Loosen-Up-Hank! This is your fault!”
“My fault? You’re the one being a sheep and listening to me.”
You finish unbuttoning his shirt and pull the lever to start the shower and cross your arms, huffing under your breath. That stops though when you see him peel off his shirt and his pants, rubbing vigorously at his thigh, hip and stomach.
‘What the fuck is this?’ You think as your eyes look him over, taking in the sight of him.
“When did you get hot, Hank?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. You don’t know where it came from but seeing him shirtless and water running down his body is making you crazy. What happened to the scrawny kid from elementary school? And had you known he looked like that, this incident would have happened from day one.
“What?” He says, raising a brow at you.
“What? Nothing. I didn’t say anything! Just get that acid shit off of you.” You stutter out, rubbing the back of your neck and feeling your skin heat up from embarrassment.
MC… how are you going to figure this one out?
This will most likely be the shortest of the bunch because it’s Jaehee,
the most pragmatic and understanding of the lot of them. I cannot see her
letting something like this carry on for more than a minute before rectifying
Her manicured fingers traced the shiny surface, her blood red nails contrasting with the pitch black wood. The man in front of her played with the rings on his hands, patiently twirling them around as he waited for any word from the young girl. As the time passed, he realized it would be impossible to have her speak first.
“You killed two of my best guards,” he calmly remarked, a smile as sharp as knives adorning his face.
Finally, her dark eyes flickered from the table to meet his. Her tone nonchalant, she leaned back. “Then you should thank me. Maybe think of getting better guards? Not so good those ones, were they?”
“But that’s the surprising point, isn’t it?–they were my very best, yet somehow, you managed to handle them both at once, single handedly.”
“I don’t think I see your point.” She sighed, uncrossing her legs. The weapons hidden under her dress were becoming slightly uncomfortable.
His eyes seemed to twinkle under the yellowish light of the chandelier. “Work for me.”
A three worded sentence that made her burst out into a fit of laughter. A crude, mocking sound carrying a touch of bitterness to it.
“Mr. Park,” her face contorted unpleasantly as his infamous surname rolled out of her tongue, “I’m not a guard, or a secret agent. I’m the daughter of your family’s worst enemy - wouldn’t your brothers be upset if they saw you being so irrational?”
His eyes turned cold at her words, expression hard as stone and voice dripping with acid as he hissed her name. “Y/N, you’re not in a position to refuse.”
“Why, will you kill me like your father killed my mother?” As quickly as the bitter words left her mouth, she had reached for the gun attached to her thigh and positioned herself in a life threatening stance, pointing the object straight to his chest.
A mixture of preoccupation and fear crossed her features as he chuckled lightly, but the memory of the cruel laugh as that man had pulled the trigger right before her eyes made her regain confidence. He’s just playing manly, relax.
Against all odds, he leaned further, his toxic, expensive cologne reaching her nostrils. A toxic smell because, for a split second, she forgot where she was and the gun she held between her hands.
“Y/N.” He repeated her name, his silky voice enough to send chills through the strongest of men. He wasn’t usually a particularly aggressive man, at least when compared to the people he involved himself with, but there was something about the calmness on his tone that made him appear menacing.
It only made her grasp tighten, her knuckles turning a milky white. “Don’t say my name.”
“Just because you refuse to utter mine, doesn’t mean I’ll do the same,” he stood up, studying her face and slightly trembling hands, “although… I don’t quite understand why you find it difficult to shoot me, when you recklessly murdered those guards earlier.”
Y/N didn’t have time to reply, he kept talking. “Unless, of course, you’re aware that I wouldn’t be stupid and guide you to an unsupervised room. Or maybe you’re just too infatuated with me.”
She kept herself from looking around, search for any signs that there was someone ready to kill her if she did as much as touch a hair on his head. Instead, she wordlessly dropped the gun on the black table. Mr. Park skirted the table and disappeared from her line of vision. His warm breath tickled her exposed neck before moving to her ear, he taunted her with his torso, that never quite came in contact with her back. Carefully tucked away memories flashed through her closed eyes. At the sound of his next words, she forced herself to open them abruptly.
“Hwa-young’s father broke off the engagement with us, your visit here was useless, darling.”
“H-he did what?” She couldn’t believe his words.
“Let’s sit somewhere more comfortable. It seems to me your own father will be here soon.” He moved away from her body, quietly leading her away from that room.
Y/N didn’t dare to speak, not before she knew what her father would do once he arrived, exactly what happened with Hwa-young, and what would be of her after invading the Park household for nothing.
The past of their families was a complicated one, and an agglomeration of circumstances had her being sent completely alone to kill the girl who was promised marriage to the youngest Park son. Engagements between powerful and dangerous families weren’t taken lightly.
They arrived at a wider division than the previous one, with windows so tall that covered the entire walls, allowing the pale moonlight to shine through them. It was pretty, she had to admit, but the tension hidden under the moon-reflected room didn’t allow her to enjoy the view.
“Why are you keeping me alive?” She asked after sitting down on the nearest sofa.
He chuckled darkly. “If you were kept alive as an enemy, why wouldn’t you as an ally?”
“Since when am I your ally?”
Sitting beside her, his eyes trailed down her face. “Ever heard the expression, ‘my enemy’s enemy is my friend’? The Lee family broke off the engagement to marry the girl off to the Choi’s. You know what that means to both me and you, therefore, our fathers will most likely reach an agreement.”
“Which will probably involve us.” She muttered, looking away. “No wonder you were so confident about telling me to work for you, Mr. Park.”
“Mr. Park is my father, my name is Jimin.” He corrected, sighing.
Y/N turned to look straight at him, his eyes darkened by the night. “I prefer to keep the formalities, Mr. Park.”
“I swear-you call me that one more time, and-”
She never knew his reply, because the door opened, and in came their parents.
Tony wakes up in the middle of the night with a scream stuck in his throat and sweat dripping down his back like Niagara falls.
For a few moments, as the panic and fear still race through his body, his eyes flit to every corner of his darkened room, searching for the outline of his nightmares.
He realizes he’s safe when Frankie bounds into his lap from the corner she was snoring loudly in and starts lapping at his chin and cheek. He gently pushes her away and runs a hand over his face, wiping sweat and tears out of his eyes.
“Fry what time is it?” He asks, voice hoarse and slightly sore. His arm flops back to the mattress and Frankie makes quick work of gently licking at those too.
“Three thirty two in the a.m. Boss. You’ve still got three more hours of rest to go.”
Tony snorts at the prospect of sleep and turns his attention back to Frankie who is sitting on her hind legs. He quirks an eyebrow at her.
“When was the last time you went bathroom?”
Frankie quirks her head to the right, her ears flopping adorably. He wiggles his fingers at her and her tail starts wagging.
“Need to go outside?”
Immediately she starts pouncing on him and yelping happily, tail on hyper drive.
“Okay, okay! Outside here we go,” He laughs as he gets up from his bed and gently picks her up with him before placing her on the floor. Her steady tiny footsteps follow him as he leaves his bedroom and makes his way past the kitchen and living room to a pair of sliding doors that lead to an enclosed terrace with artificial grass.
“Go forth and pee.”
He opens the doors and watches her slither out, trudging begrudgingly on the fake plantation. Tony shrugs at her.
“It’s either this or we take an elevator ride and I chase you like last time all over the yard because you wouldn’t come inside. This is your area, live it, love it, good.”
He shuts the door and in retaliation she looks him dead in the eye as she squats down to-
“That’s not pee. Okay, you’ll definitely be a while,” Tony mutters to himself. He turns away from the scene, giving Frankie her much needed privacy and decides to make his way to the kitchen.
He could use a drink of water.
He doesn’t bother to flip on the light and grabs a glass and turns the faucet on, fills it up halfway and brings it to his lips before the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he can feel the other person in the room.
“Sorry,” They say. Tony forces himself to take a small sip, won’t show them weakness. He gently places the cup down and turns.
“Planning on stabbing me in the back or do you leave that for Steve directly?” Tony manages to snark, crosses his arms and laces a superior smile on his face. Bucky smirks back at him from his position, leans down on the island, showcases his new shiny arm.
Tony feels the rage boil in his belly.
“I like the face to face approach personally.”
“Except on back roads when you’re on your motorcycle.”
Bucky bites his cheek and stands up straight, taps his metal fingers against the top of the counter.
“You deserve to be angry.”
Tony uncrosses his arms and flexes his hands into fists.
“No fucking shit, so happy I got your blessing. Jesus Christ, you are exactly like Steve.” Tony throws his hands up in the air and settles them on his hips. He grinds his teeth and feels the shocks of adrenaline in his body, fight or flight instincts kicking in.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” Bucky says evenly, staring straight into Tony’s eyes. Tony goes rigid.
“Yeah, that doesn’t bring them back.”
“They’re dead, nothing is going to bring them back.”
Tony rounds the island with lighting speed and lands a quick hard punch to Barnes’s jaw that whips the super soldier’s head to the side but otherwise leaves no impact.
His chest is heaving in rage and his knuckles are throbbing and he wishes he had his suit on right now to blow this son of a bitch to kingdom come.
“Don’t you dare talk about them,” Tony threatens, invades Barnes’s space. The other man in question is just staring straight back at him, mouth in a tight line.
“Don’t you dare,” The words drip like acid from his tongue.
Tony takes a step back, takes a momentary glance to look at his swollen knuckles and makes his way over to the sink to run them under cold water.
“I deserved that. I deserved all of it, probably should’ve died in Siberia. Would’ve saved a lot of people a lot of heartache,” Bucky murmurs softly.
Tony turns off the faucet, closes his eyes and flexes his hand, the pain was grounding.
“And yet here you are, Bucky fucking Barnes,” Tony mocks, turning around slowly with his arms outstretched. He lets them fall to his sides with a loud slap. Rage buzzes under his skin and he feels the throb in his knuckles intensify.
“What do you want from me? What could you possibly need or have to say? What-” Tony growls out before he’s cut off.
“I am sorry. That’s all I have to give you, that’s it. With every fiber in my being, I am sorry for what I did to your parents,” Bucky fists both hands into his hair and pulls. He closes his eyes and opens them as they fill with liquid to gaze at Tony.
Tony licks his lip as it quivers but keeps his eyes steely and makes sure to look Barnes in the eyes.
“It’s not enough, it’ll never be enough. I look at you and I see them die again, and again, and again. I see you beating my father to death who is begging you, begging you, to spare my mother, but you round the car and strangle my mo,” Tony’s voice cracks and a broken cry escapes him, “my mom. You stole the life from her and I live every waking moment knowing it was your touch my mother felt leaving this world.”
Tony rubs both hands over his face ferociously, his body shaking with unspent grief and rage. Bucky’s hands have fallen from his hair and he is slumped against the refrigerator, eyes closed and shoulders sagging.
“I know it wasn’t you, but, but it was. There is nothing for me to compare you with other than that scene. I don’t know you. I don’t want to,” Tony shakes his head and looks up to the ceiling with his hands on his hips, “And I’m just realizing the fucked up part is that your apology means absolutely nothing coming from you. It, it wasn’t you who killed my parents, it was him. The Winter Soldier. That’s the real injustice of it all. Everything, everyone, is telling me you’re innocent and I’m crazy for being so fucking angry.”
Tony shakes his head again and huffs out a thicket of air.
“No, no, this is mine,” Tony shakes and he points a finger at himself and takes a step towards Barnes who is looking back at him pathetically.
“I get to be angry at you, no one gets to take that away from me. Not you, not Steve, not T'challa, I, I, I need-”
Tony can’t breathe and he falls to the ground, landing on his ass. Bucky immediately rushes over to him, goes to touch his forehead, Tony clambers backwards, hits the cabinets behind him with the back of his head. His heart is pounding.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
Bucky clenches his jaw but draws his hand back.
“What should I do? Who should I get?”
Rhodes flashes in Tony’s mind but he trashes the idea as just as fast as it comes. Ben? Vision? No he can’t, he can’t inconvenience them anymore.
Bucky furrows his brows and shakes his head in confusion.
“Get the fucking dog!” Tony hisses through his gasping breaths. Bucky bolts up and leaves the kitchen, he comes back a moment later with Frankie in his arms. He puts the dog on the floor and she runs over to Tony, crawling into his lap and laving kisses and licking away the sweat falling down his face.
He raises his shaking hands to rub down her sides, feels the slide of her soft fur against his clammy palms. He focuses on how her breathing expands her tiny chest and tries to match it.
After a while she curls into his lap and his breathing is under control and his heart is no longer like a jack hammer. Bucky is sitting across from him on the floor by the island, knees drawn up and his arms resting on each of them. He’s eyeing Frankie and glancing every now and then to assess Tony’s complexion and breathing patterns.
“I saw you have a nightmare once, Rhodes helped you.”
Tony swallows loudly and thinks,
Which time exactly? I’ve lost count.
Bucky picks at his sleep pants with his human hand at his knee.
“I dream about them all the time. All of them,” Bucky says without looking up.
Bucky laughs softly.
A moment of silence passes between them again, the only noise is Frankie’s loud sigh every once in a while.
“Steve wants me to be this person he knew so long ago and I don’t know how to tell him that he’s dead.”
Tony closes his eyes and leans his head back against the cool metal cabinet behind him. Frankie breathes even in his lap.
Bucky laughs softly again, looks up and stares at Tony until he opens his eyes and meets them.
“You were handed the shitty end of a short stick and you have every right to be pissed off for as long as you like. If you need to hate me, then do it. I’m tired of everyone walking on eggshells around me and telling me to forget what happened and what I did because it wasn’t me. It haunts me, my past. I can’t let it go, it’d be doing a disservice to everyone I’ve ever hurt and killed.”
Tony takes a long look at Bucky, looks him over critically.
“It’s interesting to finally meet the man who’s worth ten of me.”
Bucky’s forehead creases in frustration and his eyes narrow.
“Steve,” Tony says by way of explanation. Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise before he chuckles darkly and leans fully against the island.
“Yeah, well Steve is a fucking idiot every now and then.”
“Yeah. Every now and then.” The ice is back in his voice and Bucky shrugs his shoulders.
Tony straightens up a little, careful to not disturb Frankie in his lap. He motions between Bucky and himself.
“You know this changes nothing?”
Bucky nods his head slowly, regretfully.
Tony nods his head and places a hand over Frankie and lets his head fall back against the cabinets again. He hears Bucky get up from the floor and feels him stand there and watch him.
Tony tenses slightly before it drains from his body. He hears Bucky leave and suddenly the floor is the most comfortable thing he’s ever felt.
He dozes off with Frankie in his lap and doesn’t say anything to Vision who finds him in the kitchen two hours later.
Vision eyes him softly before helping him and leading him to sit down by the kitchen table. Frankie happily follows by their ankles and plops down by Tony’s feet.
“You are a godsend,” Tony murmurs sleepily when Vision places a cup of coffee in front of him and smiles.
“Well, Thor did have a part in it.”
Tony smiles into his coffee and takes a sip.
“You’ve got jokes.”
Vision is still smiling when he turns around to get started on breakfast and soon the air gets warm and smells like bacon and eggs. Tony hears the toaster go off.
He gives Tony an extra helping of bacon on his plate. Rhodes and Ben shuffle in a short time later, grab some plates and sit on either side of Tony who is sneaking pieces of his eggs to Frankie who is shuffling under the table pawing at their knees.
“No begging Frankie,” Ben says tapping her nose. She just licks his finger in response.
After a while Tony notices Vision keeps giving him long glances between his cooking and cleaning the counter.
When breakfast is finished, he passes by Tony and places a warm red hand in his hair and ruffles it. Ben and Rhodes stare at the display with tired and surprised faces.
Tony gives Vision a questioning glance but it has no effect as the AI bends over and gathers Frankie in his arms.
“Good dog,” He says and carts her away out of the kitchen.
Ben scratches at the teeny tiny stubble on his cheeks. He looks at the kitchen doorway before turning back to Rhodes and Tony.
“So, how was everyone’s night?”
Tony takes another sip of his coffee and tunes out Rhodes dramatic retelling of his dream involving a flamingo.
Tony closes his eyes and remembers,
“You know this changes nothing?”
-an excerpt from my story ‘My Name Was Not Friend’ on Ao3, chapter 6
Behind Closed Doors (E2-Harrison Wells x Reader) Imagines
Imagine: You and Barry had just gotten back to S.T.A.R. Labs after taking down Gorilla Grodd. Both of you were injured, and needed medical attention. While Cisco and Caitlin were treating Barry, the one and only Harrison Wells was treating you.
“Just bear with it.”
“But it hurts so much!”
“Oh, for god’s sake, _____! It’s not like it’s your first time.”
Barry, Cisco and Caitlin all stared at the closed door to the medical bay, wide-eyed and shocked. While they knew you and Harry had a love-hate relationship going on, there was no way they could’ve predicted this.
Cisco leaned over to his friends. “You don’t think-?”
Author’s Note: This can be read as a stand-alone fic, but there is a preceding oneshot called Traitors. Check it out if you want, but it’s not entirely necessary.
It had finally come to this. You were trapped against a
wall, a Death Eater’s wand aimed straight at your heart. Evil eyes leered
through the eyeholes of his mask, and a crooked yellow smile was widely spread
across his face. He was tauntingly twirling your fallen wand in his hand. “Shame
you have to die so young,” he drawled, though a flash of hungry excitement
flashed in his eyes.
You swallowed hard, but refused to appear weak to this
man. You expected an end like this. After all, you were fighting in a war.
Death is a 40/60 chance in this fight, and in your current situation, the
chances of survival were dwindling into single digits.
But you had fought a good fight up until this point,
right? You Stupefied quite a number of Death Eaters on the way here, even put a
good Bat-Bogey Hex on an unfortunate one. You did your part, which was to back
up Harry. And now you were going to die for it. All in a day’s work, right?
If only you could get your mind to think that way.
You watched him raise his wand high, lips poised to form
the dreaded words. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the last spell
you’ll ever hear in this life. But it didn’t come just yet. Instead, you heard
rushed footsteps stop abruptly, followed by the Death Eater calling out, “Well,
well, if it isn’t Lucius’s boy.”
girl with the wild hair and lost eyes had been at Wool’s for four
months before Tom had met her, having been finishing his sixth year
at Hogwarts when she was taken in. He had thought it curious when he
heard that Mrs. Cole had taken on another charge, considering the
fact that she was- to their estimations- anywhere from fifteen to
seventeen years in age; far too old to have had any chance of being
adopted, far too old to really be deserving of any pity. Space in the
cramped and run down orphanage was scarce, and food was even scarcer,
the effects of the muggle war tolling heavy on the supplies available
to the public. Nearly everything was rationed, kindness included.
girl with the strange sounding name had earned the concern of Mrs.
Cole, had been pathetic enough for the old caretaker to want to take
her in, protect her. She was covered in grime and blood when the
police officer discovered her, the orphans had whispered behind their
hands. Was found huddled on the streets of London, bewildered and
frightened, with nothing in her possession aside from the tattered
clothes, and a curious necklace that had been shattered. She had no
memory of who she was, or where she was from, whatever accident she
had gotten into having robbed that of her, the same force that
embedded the glass of her brass pendant into her chest, scarring the
skin. She was brought to the gates of the orphanage after having seen
a physician, the head injury she had sustained partially healed among
the many other injuries.
one has claimed her.’ 'Victim of the war.’ 'Consistent with a great
fall, and an assault.’ 'Has nowhere to go.’ 'Has no memory, terrible
Those were the words that she was marked with, and Mrs. Cole with a
sigh had taken her in. Had cleared a room for her in a linen closet,
set up a cot. She did not need a wardrobe anyway, as she had nothing
to put in it.
had been back within the walls of the building for only a day when he
had learned that she was regarded as a pariah of sorts among the
orphans, that she was spoken of only under their breath. 'Strange,’
they called her. 'Crazy.’
They eyed her in a way that was familiar to Tom, as they had looked
to him with the same gaze. Wide eyes filled with fear of the unknown,
with confusion to what this being before them was, what they were
capable of. 'She does things like Tom used to do. I don’t
trust her,’ one of them had said
when they did not see him around the corner, their tone repulsed and
filled with hatred, dripping like acid.
It took only three days into his return for him to see why, when he
was startled from his sleep once more by screams, the walls
undulating with her yells of pain. Grabbing hold of his wand, he
followed the sound of her cries, thrusting open the door to the linen
closet with every intention of silencing her. Three nights had gone
by without sleep, three nights he had sat in his bed with the pillow
over his ears as she wailed and thrashed from whatever nightmare or
possession she was under. He was going to keep her quiet, the same
way he had kept Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop silent.
The door flung open, and suddenly the screaming stopped, the girl
sitting up straight in her bed with a gasp as she awoke, her honey
brown eyes wide and searching for him in the darkness of the room. He
had closed the door behind him, the click of the door as it settled
in the frame and was locked wandlessly like a harbinger, and she
stood at the noise.
“I’m growing very tired of your screams,” he said, his tone
dangerously low, like a growl in his throat. His hand rose before
him, the wand clutched tight in his grasp, only to feel a sharp pull
from it, watching in awe as it was suddenly flung from his fingers.
The wand collided with the wall behind her, bouncing off it and
falling to the floor unceremoniously, rolling down the slightly
uneven wooden planks. His nostrils flared, his brow twitched. Anger
filled his chest like a well, a reservoir of it, and he took a step
forward, his eyes narrowed at her. Before he could draw from it,
could tap into the magic he had used so often as a child until he
began channeling it through his wand, a great force hit him in the
gut, the breath expelled from him as it did so.
He was shoved back by invisible hands, his body roughly crashing into
the shelves behind him. All at once they broke, though not through
any physical means, and he stumbled to the floor, splintered wood and
spare linens tumbling at his feet. The sound was deafening, and
quickly followed by harried footsteps as various children and matrons
ran to check on what had been the source. They banged on the door,
voices calling for them to open it as it shook from the
reverberations of their fists.
But he did not, instead leveling his eyes so that they met
Hermione’s, his anger replaced with interest. She was a witch then,
whether or not she knew it, and the air sizzled and cracked with her
magic, he could feel it pulsing through the air. It was suffocating,
billowing around him like smoke from a fire.
The door finally ripped open as he unlocked it, turning to look at
the sea of faces in the threshold, Mrs. Cole rushing through them so
as to look between him and Hermione, worriedly. “I heard her
screaming so I came in here to see if everything was alright, but I
tripped,” he lied, motioning to the mess surrounding him.
He was told to return to his room, and he had done so, his wand
carefully concealed in his sleeve, thinking back to the girl who
wasn’t just a girl. She was a witch, with untapped potential, with
magic overfilling her and begging to be released and realized.
Begging to be controlled. Perhaps this summer wouldn’t be as drab or
as dull as the others.
“No! Please, stop! I’m begging you!” You thrashed around on the operating table. “It hurts, it hurts so much!”
Strangers dressed in scrubs bustled about, ignoring your pleas. Some approached you, dropping down to draw some blood or slice your skin open with a sharp blade. Others refilled the flesh burning acid that dripped its way into your I.V.
“You’re going to be a gift to the United States, you know that?” A sinister sounding voice contrasted with your screams. “All those years alive, adamantly denying scientists and doctors access to your genetics…can you imagine how many lives could’ve been saved with your genetic code?”
“You bastard!” You spat in her direction. “You’re going to use it to create the super soldiers, aren’t you?” You writhed around, tugging on your restraints. “Shield, Hydra, United States Government…all three of you have the same ideology- absolute power and intimidation. You don’t care about the people, you only care about yourselves!”
“Draw as much blood as possible and obtain skin graphs then dump her in her cell.” She grazed her fingertips over your tear stained cheeks. “Maybe run a few more shock therapy tests first.”
The multitude of heads in the room nodded as she left, going about to collect the needed materials and setting up the shock therapy machine. You whimpered as a nurse hooked up the gel dipped metal prongs to your temples, tightening them to a special cap used to hold them in place. They stepped back and motioned to another nurse in front of the controls. They stated the voltage before flipping the switch.
A little something for my Kullara buds, an awesome group of people who deserve more love ^_^
Coran was the one who had received the invitation to the festival. If they agreed to attend, the Paladins of Voltron were to be the guests of honour at the Celebration of the Stars, an annual festival of food, festivities and frivolities. After recent events he felt the team could use a pick me up. Allura had agreed.
She could almost see the very fitting stars in the eyes of the young pilots as they took in the spectacle before them. The sights, the sounds, the smells, they seemed so delighted. Most of them any way. Keith was hanging back, which really didn’t surprise anyone. The others just shrugged his moodiness off, deciding they were going to enjoy themselves with or without him.
“This is just like the carnivals back home!” Lance enthused, watching as what looked like a rollercoaster spun by overhead without the benefit of a track. “Only more awesome!”
“And dangerous.” Hunk noted as his eyes followed the same spinning thrill-ride.
“Must work on an anti-grav propulsion system.” Pidge theorised.
“Or some kind of magnetic-hover device.” Hunk added.
“Can you turn off the geek-speak for one night?” Lance glared at them. “We’re here to kick-back and have some fun.”
“What about him?” Pidge jerked a thumb to where Keith was trailing behind, finding something fascinating in the foliage of a rather ordinary looking tree.
“Ah, he’s a lost cause.” Lance waved him off. “You coming, Princess?”
“I don’t think we should leave him all by himself.” She was watching the sullen paladin with concern. Shiro’s loss had hit them all hard, but it had effected Keith the most. He’d never been the happiest of people, but he used to smile at least, on occasion, join in on conversations. He’d been so quiet lately she was beginning to forget what his voice sounded like.
“I’d say have fun, but I don’t think he knows the meaning of the word.” Lance snorted as he turned towards the lights and laughter of the festival.
“If he doesn’t snap out of this funk soon…” Hunk sighed, shaking his head sadly as he and Pidge followed in Lance’s wake.
“You do realise that tree is not part of the celebration?” Allura folded her arms across her chest. He turned to her but didn’t respond or make a move. She let out an exasperated sigh.
“Come on.” She grabbed him by the wrist and started marching towards the festivities. “I’ll win you a prize.”
He was going to have some fun if it killed her!
Keith was staring at the black bead eyes of the vaguely cat-like toy Allura had, true to her word, won for him at some game which had required her to match an ever changing pattern of lights. It had far too many legs and wire in its multiple tails to make them hold a star shape to really be called a cat, though. Naturally, when asked, Allura had picked the red one. In return he’d won her a dark silken scarf festooned with sparkles that resembled the night sky above them by simply throwing sharp needles through multi-coloured balls of light.
They had stopped to eat, or at least Allura had. He still wasn’t eating very much, he had no appetite when he was depressed, but he had managed a few bites of something spirally that had tasted like fried potato, though it had been iridescent blue in colour. Allura returned to him with something green and pink that looked remarkably like a churro.
“You should try this.” She held it out to him, beaming. “It’s wonderful.”
He broke a small portion off the tip of it and popped it in his mouth. It even tasted like a churro. It would seem carnival food was as wonderfully greasy and unhealthy here as it was on Earth.
“Yeah…” He admitted. “It’s pretty good.”
Her grin widened. He’d actually said something positive.
“Come on.” She said. “There’s something over this way I’m dying to try.”
He followed her to a small ornate tent covered with stars and crescent moons. A creature with long, rope-like arms sat in its opening, moving the slender limbs and swaying back and forth in a sinuously hypnotic way. It was hard to determine the gender of the creature, in truth it may not even have a gender. It watched them with pale blue eyes as Allura led him to its tent.
“A fortune teller?” He looked skeptical.
“I do not tell fortunes, young one.” It said in a strange, musical tone, slowly blinking its eyes. It made a graceful gesture with one three-fingered hand. “I impart the plans of the universe.”
He looked at Allura, clearly still unconvinced.
“It’ll be fun.” She said, pushing him into the darkness within. The creature, the universal seer, or whatever it was, flowed in behind them. It continued in its almost liquid-like movements, he absently wondered if it had any bones, to come to rest on the opposite side of the round table that sat in the centre of the draped fabric space, gesturing for them to sit amongst the collection of velvet and silk cushions piled on the floor.
It scooped up a small pile of rectangles that looked strangely familiar to the young man from the other side of the cosmos.
“Tarot Cards?” Keith frowned.
“You know of them?” The seer inquired.
“We have them back home.” He admitted, though he’d never held much stock in them. “But I didn’t know they were so…” He trailed off, not sure of the right word.
“Universal?” The seer suggested with an obvious, and playful, smile.
It spread the cards across the table in a perfect arc. “Twenty two cards.” It said. “Five will tell you your past, your present and your future.” One hand unfurled in front of Allura. “Choose.” The Princess lay a finger on the cloth before one, fifth from the centre. The seer lay a suction-cup tipped finger on the card and turned it over. It showed an ornately robed woman sitting between two pillars.
“The High Priestess.” It intoned. “Wisdom, serenity, knowledge and understanding. You have a deep, intuitive understanding of the universe.”
It turned to Keith, its lips quirked upwards. It was obvious it knew he had little faith in its abilities. “Clear you mind. Still your doubts. And choose.” It made the same graceful motion with its hands. He let out a deep breath and tapped the one on the end closest to him. It picked it up with its sticky fingertip and flipped it over. Keith was faced with a hooded figure holding a lamp.
“The Hermit.” It smiled. “You are introspective and focus your attentions inwards to find the answers you seek.”
It gestured to Allura to select her second card. It depicted a beautiful woman by a pool of water surrounded by stars.
“Ah…the Star. The universe has blessed you. Your hope and faith will be renewed as you enter a loving stage in your life. You will find a deeper understanding in yourself and those around you.” Its eyes slid briefly to Keith. “Trust the universe, a bright future awaits you.”
Pale eyes returned to Keith, one eyebrow quirked. He touched another, the third from the last he’d picked. The seer gracefully turned it over. It showed a skeleton in full armour riding a horse and brandishing a banner.
“Death!” It hissed dramatically. The pair exchanged a worried glance. That couldn’t be good. Then the seer laughed, a tinkling bell-like sound.
“Do not look so concerned.” It smiled. “It is not to be taken literally. It means an ending. A new beginning. You are moving on to something far more important that what has come before.” It leaned in closer to him. “Do not resist this change, it could do you irreparable harm. Let go of the past, embrace your future.”
It sat back, its hands drifting across the remaining cards.
“The fifth and final card is mine to choose.” It said, eyes closed, hands moving hypnotically back and forth. “Through me the universe will reveal what it has planned for you both.” Its hands stilled, one finger dipping down to select the card. It depicted two figures, one obviously make the other obviously female, an angel watching over them both.
The seer opened its eyes and smiled. “I suspected as much.”
“What is this one?” Allura frowned.
Keith let out a shuddering sigh. “It’s called The Lovers.” Two pairs of blue eyes fixed on him, one aghast, the other amused.
“And you know this how?” The seer asked.
“I saw it in a movie.” He shrugged.
“This one is like the Death card, right?” Allura queried. “Not to be taken literally.”
The seer’s smile was almost wicked. “No.” It imparted. “This one is VERY literal. Perfection, harmony and mutual attraction.” They exchanged another, weighted glance. The universe wanted THAT from them.
“Of course their are subtleties in the interpretation.” The seer admitted. “The bond you share does not necessarily have to be a romantic one.” It lidded its eyes heavily, suggestively. “Or a…sexual one…” it seemed to take great delight in their discomfort. “But that does not mean that it is…not.” It spread it’s hands gracefully, smiling widely, almost knowingly.
“But the trust each has in the other will grant you the strength and confidence you will require to overcome the trials you will no doubt soon face. Have faith in each other and you will prevail.”
“So how DID you know that card?” Allura asked.
They had returned to the food tents to wait for the others. Hunk’s stomach at least would eventually lead them to the same spot. Allura was sampling something fluffy and cloud-like while Keith poked at some of the blue potato stuff with a spork.
“Like I said, a movie.” He speared a piece of his food, lifted it up, turned it this way and that, some of the acid green topping dripped back into the basket. “This guy wanted to…enact…the card with this girl, so he stacked the deck in his favour.” He smiled a little.
They turned to the sound of Lance’s voice.
“You’ve seen a James Bond movie?” He boggled, bumping his hip against Keith’s to force him to move over so he could sit. He picked up one of the fries. “A damn ancient one, but it’s a start.”
He grinned. “And was that a smile I just saw?”
“I’m just glad you’re eating.” Pidge said, sliding in on his other side, subtly dragging the basket of food away from Lance. “You ARE eating these, right.”
Lance popped the one he’d stolen into his mouth and instantly turned red. His jaw gaped and e started fanning his mouth with his hand while gasping “hothothothothot!” Keith casually pushed a large container of liquid towards him which he grateful gulped down.
“HOW are you eating them?” He demanded when he found his voice. “That stuff is pure evil!” He pointed at the topping. “It’s like someone dialled jalapeños up to a million!”
“Oh, please.” Hunk scoffed. “The jalapeño doesn’t even crack the top ten on the Scoville Scale.” He took his own sample, and almost choked on it. “Jeez!” He wiped tears from his eyes as he reached for the container of liquid. “How ARE you eating these?” He took a deep swallow.
“Guardian Spirit of Fire.” He reminded them, depositing the one he’d been studying in his mouth and chewing it slowly and deliberately with no obvious effect.
“Wusses.” Pidge grinned. Keith smirked, pushing the basket towards her in offering. She looked at it for a moment, took in the still red faces of her Garrison teammates, before pushing it back. “I think I’m good.”
“Now who’s the wuss?” Lance snorted.
“I’ll try one.” Allura said brightly, retrieving one with two delicate fingers. She sampled it, chewing thoughtfully. Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. “Yes, it is a little spicy.” She admitted. “But very tasty.”
The unaffected pair shared a chuckle. Perfection, harmony and mutual attraction…for spicy food at least.
“Pft.” Lance rolled his eyes. “Aliens.”
By its tent the seer smiled at the playful interaction between the quintet, two of the five in particular. Their hands brushed briefly as they reached into the food basket at the same time, each drawing back quickly as if scalded.
“Fight it all you wish.” It spoke softly. “The universe will not be denied.”
“Y\N,” You hear someone speak from behind you and you turn around to see your long time best friend Jasper, “Ready to leave?”
“Who’s coming with us?” You question him, seeing Clarke, Raven and Finn approaching you from behind Jasper, who looks down awkwardly at your question, “Jasper?” You ask in a warning tone.
“I didn’t invite him, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Jasper replies and you exhaled in relief. It seems like everyone in the whole camp knew about you and Bellamy fighting, “He invited himself.”
“What?” You exclaim, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of going on a two hunting trip with your ex-something. He wasn’t even your boyfriend, commitment wasn’t Bellamys strong point.
“Just smile and act happy.” Jasper grins as an example as he places his hands on your shoulders comfortingly.
“This is going to be a long trip.” You sigh unhappily as Finn and Clarke join you and Jasper, “Hey guys.” You greet them and they nod at you. Clarke begins talking about what she has in her backpack to help the group catch everything they need to feed the hungry mouths of the 100.
“Hey, Y\N, did you hear the bad news?” Finn asks cheekily, raising his eyebrows and you roll your eyes with a groan, “He’s coming.”
“Don’t remind me.” You shake your head, “He’s going to make it hell for me.”
“Who is?” You hear the familiar voice of his right behind you. The same voice that once used to tell you he loved you, but now only barks orders at you during the day.
You don’t even turn around to look at Bellamy, “Talk about the devil and he shall appear.” you sigh in annoyance before walking away and Finn follows you.
Aries - Has smoky grey scales and lengthy wings. Darts to and fro at rapid speeds with its retractable claws wielded. Likes to challenge other dragons regardless of size.
Taurus - Large, muscular and has scales that change to match the foliage in its surroundings. This camouflage allows it to catch prey with ease. Avoids involvement with other dragons.
Gemini - Two heads and two separate necks adorned with crystals jutting out in every angle. Hisses at the other head frequently. Has brilliant copper scales and can spit blazing hot flames. Very social.
Cancer - A water serpent with opalescent scales that shimmer in the sunlight. Eats nothing but sea creatures and is very territorial and protective. Fosters baby dragons.
Leo - Breathtaking serpent that lives in a sea of jewels and gold. Generally mellow unless you touch its treasure. Its scales match the color of its riches so it will attack you by surprise.
Virgo - Polished scales that are pearl white. Perfectly aligned black spikes and an impressive wingspan. Prefers isolation but enjoys the company of their mate. Competitive and picky.
Libra - As elegant and refined as a dragon can be. Has scales that vary from pink to lavender. Exhales a gas that induces sleep. Intelligent, easy to tame, and very cautious.
Scorpio - A slender dragon with crimson scales and eyes. Black jagged spikes run down its back. The black speckles on its rear and tail indicate that its venomous. Aggressive and easily provoked.
Sagittarius - Has charcoal black scales that are non-reflective and broad wings. Its eyes are bright green. Rarely stationery and is commonly found interacting with other dragons.
Capricorn - Almost never seen unless searched for. Known to exhale shards of ice when threatened and has light blue or silver scales. Peaceful and secluded, lives in high altitudes.
Aquarius - Most feral looking – long snout with sharp jaws. Acid drips from its mouth almost constantly. Has dull green scales and short legs. Very interesting to spectate but not safe to.
Pisces - Its scales change color depending on mood. So they change frequently. Always seen tailing another dragon that it finds attractive. Gentle and coy nature.