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lewis-winters · 3 years

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Hi! i really enjoy your daemon au and i-ve gone and watched the new his dark materials series because of it. i love your take on daemons and was wondering if you have nymore headcanons for the other boys? what's luz's daemon? liptons? how do you pick their names? are there any daemons who Re the same sex as their humans? you dont have to rwply if you dont want to i just wanted to tell you i enjoy your world very much!!

Oh, hi! I’m glad you’re watching the new His Dark Materials adaptation! It’s pretty good, huh?

I do have headcanons for not just most of the boys but for the world itself. Though I also call it His Dark Materials!AU alongside daemon!AU it’s actually more the latter than the former. The only things I carried over into this AU from the original world of His Dark Materials are the existence of daemons, the fact that daemons are made of Dust particles, and the existence of witches. The magisterium or any kind of theocracy doesn’t exist. The authority and the angels also do not carry over. Instead, our own religions exist, but there’s just as much emphasis on spiritualism and mysticism as there is on moralism, which I believe would be the natural development of religion in this world where your soul/daemon, the spiritual aspect of you, is literally there for everybody else to see.

All of the boys have small or medium sized daemons, the biggest probably belonging to that of Ron and Tab, who have an Ocelot daemon and a sheepdog daemon respectively. The reason for this being that small or medium sized daemons are easily carried and they, alongside bird or other kinds of flying daemons, are preferred by the airborne. You still gotta jump out of a perfectly good airplane largely undetected. Can’t do that with an elephant daemon.

Ok. This got real long so I’m putting the rest under the cut. tw: mentions of death, trauma, and mutilation.

Some of the younger boys’ daemons haven’t settled. Miller, Hashey, Garcia, and Jackson. Hashey and Garcia’s settle in Hageneu. Miller and Jackson never get the chance.

Shifty’s daemon, Myrtle, is a Capybara. But he doesn’t know that. Every time somebody asked him what his daemon was, he’d shrug, say ‘Don’t rightly know,’ then leave it at that. What can he do? Capybara’s aren’t native to Virginia and he’s never been out of Virginia. Webster was the one to tell him that Myrtle was a Capybara because he’d read about them in a book somewhere that one time. Myrtle was startled by this and said; “I thought I was some kind of dog!” that was one of the few times she ever spoke out-loud during the whole war.

As I’ve said before in this post, Lew’s daemon is a chameleon named Amalthea. For all of the events of episode 9, Lew kept her in his pocket and that scared almost everybody shitless, because it made it seem like he was walking around without a daemon. The replacements assigned to them around that time, like O’Keefe, thought he didn’t have a soul. He never bothered to correct them because that meant letting Amalthea out, and the idea of her being in the open and vulnerable made him especially ill. He’d rather people thought he was soulless than allow himself and Amalthea to get hurt again. Which is so Lewis.

Skip has a hummingbird daemon named Ilaria, which is a name that means happiness and joy. This daemon-human duo wasn’t hard for me to figure out. It just fits.

Malarkey’s daemon is an artic hare with a summer coat named Felis. She’s settled, but after Foy and after losing Skip and Alex and Buck, she changes again. Subtlely, of course, and not wholely. She stays an artic hare, but instead of a summer coat, she permanently has a winter coat.

It’s not uncommon in this world for your daemon to change after severe trauma. I bet as the field of psychology expands, so does the understanding of trauma’s effects on the soul expand. There’s many studies on the changing of once settled daemons in relation to soldiers’ PTSD.

Buck’s daemon, a male bald eagle named Romulus, changes entirely. Still a bird, but instead of an eagle, he turns into a snowy owl. Before the war, he was a chatty daemon. After, he barely speaks and only does so to Buck and, very rarely, to those close to them.

Eugene Sledge’s male daemon, Daecon goes from a blood hound and gets turned into a Luzon bleeding heart-- which, I know is on the nose but it’s just. It’s such a cool bird, ya’ll. I’ve seen one up-close and ever since that day, I have not known any peace. The shift would be painful and would happen very slowly. It was actually horrific and was a trauma in and of itself. That was the last time they ever changed, though.

I also headcanon that the longer you’ve been settled, the harder and more painful the shift.

Merriell Shelton’s daemon settles in Gloucester. Into what, I’m not sure yet, but a part of me thinks she’s settled into some kind of big cat from the rain forests. Either a cloud leopard or a jaguar. Her name’s Charlotte but he calls her Lottie. Don’t ask me why. It just fits.

That being said, I have some Thoughts about people with big cat daemons. They’re usually aloof. Like, they make a very impactful first impression but they’re mostly solitary individuals who are weird af and difficult to get to know. It takes a really special person to tame a human with a big cat daemon. Once you earn their trust, that’s for life. They’re also really self-assured and are very secure in their sense of self. There is almost little to no tension between big cat daemons and their humans, and if there is, it gets explosive.

Ron Speirs has a big cat daemon, a female Ocelot named Aurele. She never talks, not even to Ron. They have this silent gaze/telepathy going on. Ron also takes on a couple of animalistic traits because of it. They could also... stretch their bond really far? Which is scary as fuck. People think he’s the son of a witch who, in her desperation to make him immortal, made him go through the ritual that allows a witch and her daemon to part for long periods of time and great distances. This is not true. Ron and Aurele just have really high pain tolerance.

Eugene Roe, on the other hand, is the son of a witch. His maman, however, did not make him go through the ritual because he’s not her first son. She knows the pain of outliving her sons well. She loves him all the same but understands that he will die well before her. Eugene’s daemon is a male kinkajou named Louis. Which is both a surprise and also not. For much of the war there’s a lot of tension there. Louis craves connection with others, Roe needs isolation to keep their sanity. It kind of turns into this thing where, if you wanted to comfort Roe or be close to him, you’d have to go through his daemon instead.

Babe’s daemon is a squirrel. A very chatty female russian squirrel named Abigail. They talk to each other a lot, and Abby talks to other people a lot too. Sometimes, she even answers in lieu of Babe. They’re both very blunt and very out there, no hiding with Babe and Abby. It used to get them into a lot of trouble with the nuns at school, who believed that daemons are only meant to be seen and not heard. A+ Catholic repression.

George’s daemon was a little tricky to me. I know his daemon is female and that her name is Thalia. I also know that she can fly. My first thought was: Parrot, either a hyacinth macaw or a white cockatoo. But, I also really like the idea of George having a Butterfly daemon. Particularly one that looks like a leaf when her wings are folded up but is brilliantly jewel toned when she opens them. In the end, I opted for George entering the army, having not settled just yet, and he and Thalia are this kind of double-act, where she shifts into whatever form is necessary for the punchline of the joke. She only settles into a parrot (idk still what kind) after their first jump and all the excitement in Carentan. A gradual thing. They don’t even notice until just before the jump in Holland. When they miss someone, Thalia will mimic that person’s voice. First, it was George’s mama and the voice of her daemon, both speaking in rapid fire portugese. Later on, in Austria, Thalia starts imitating all the friends they’ve lost. Sometimes she’ll sound like Skip. Other times, she’ll sound like Bill. It takes a very long time for her to break this habit. To the point wherein she and George don’t even remember what her real voice sounds like.

Lip’s daemon settled really early and is a female Bonobo named Jane. Has been since he was ten and made man of the house. This, like Skip and Ilaria, was very easy for me to figure out.

Dick’s daemon is a Caracara raptor bird. I’m still figuring out the specifics so she doesn’t have a name yet. Sorry.

As mentioned, Tab has a sheepdog daemon named Marisa who enjoys keeping him and everybody else in check. Have you met a sheepdog? They will literally herd you. It doesn’t matter if you are not a lamb or a sheep. They will nip at your heels until you go where they want to go. That’s Marisa. She’ll nip at Tab’s heels, she’ll nip at everybody else’s heels. If you are going somewhere she does not want you to go she will make sure you know her displeasure.

It is also super funny when she looks Tab in the eye and goes “Down, boy.” It never fails to make Tab go red and make everybody else laugh.

Harry’s daemon-- and don’t get mad at me-- but Harry’s daemon is a Scottish Terrier named Saoirse. He carries her around strapped to his chest during jumps. It’s fucking cute. Don’t say that to their faces though because they will lose all respect for you. It’s a daemon suited more to a teacher than it is to a soldier, that’s for sure.

Bill’s daemon is a pit-bull named Darla. Scary looking one, too, with a very bawdy sense of humor. She will growl at you and pretend to bite and you will be very scared but she only does it as a joke. She’s honestly really cool. When Bill and Babe are walking around together, Abby likes to perch on top of Darla’s head. It’s adorable. Sometimes, when Abby gets too much, Darla carries her around in her mouth. It’s still cute. But only to them, everybody else finds it vaguely horrifying.

I know there’s this taboo of humans not touching other humans’ daemons but it’s kinda difficult in such close-quarters like theirs. It is also heavily implied in the original text of Philip Pullman, that the no-touching thing is a cultural thing. Like, I think in religions that deal a lot in repression like Catholicism or Protestantism, the touching of another’s daemon is a no-no and is only reserved for the most intimate of relations (i.e. marriage). But I feel like religions such as Judaism, Wiccan, Paganism, or even some branches of Folk-Catholicism encourage touch/celebrate that connection between two humans. Neither of these two beliefs are wrong, of course. It’s just a cultural thing and they carry with them both pros and cons.

I bet Lieb grew up very used to his daemon being touched by his mother and father or older siblings. It’s not taboo to him, though he recognizes that it’s taboo to others. He doesn’t get it though, and is constantly rolling his eyes every time somebody gasps when they accidentally touch someone’s daemon.

A lot of the boys just kinda ignore the touching daemons thing until they get used to it.

I’m not sure what Lieb’s daemon is or what her name is, too. I know she’s a social kind of daemon-- not solitary like a big cat or a reptile (like snakes). I thought maybe a wolf, but a wolf daemon is too... large and there are a lot of connotations attached to it. I think Lieb’s daemon is something medium-sized and unassuming. Not a dog. Not a domestic cat either. A part of me thinks flightless bird, but no. Not that either. Give me time. I’ll figure her out. As of now, I’m thinking either a marsupial or a canidae/fox but not quite. She’s a mammal, that much I know. Just don’t know what kind.

Grant’s daemon is a male domestic cat named Saladin. He’s either an Abyssinian or a Bengal. Either way, he’s really cool. Like super cool. They’re both super duper cool.

And... that’s kinda it. That’s all I have for now. I’m really sorry it got so long, anon. I get really excited when talking about daemons. It’s character study but with animals! Thank you for giving me this opportunity to ramble. This is where I leave you.

#band of brothers #dæmon au #bob aus #tp aus #the pacific #but only eugene and snaf #ask #bob hcs #tp hcs

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alittleimagine · 6 years

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catalyst

Ray Palmer x Reader

The crew found your inability to drop certain childhood habits amusing. It didn’t matter that you were able to feel the most minute of cellular processes in a human (or sometimes non-human) body with just the brush of skin on skin, it was very hard to shake the need to give a kiss or “sana sana” when there was an injury or malady. So, that was the final touch of any healing.

The first time you’d healed someone aboard the Waverider had been Jax and you had pressed a light kiss to his forehead and declared him good to go. If he had been surprised he’d hidden it well. Sara, the next person, had commented on it and received a shrug. You’d done it as a child and you’d kept doing it when the particle accelerator had given you your abilities. It had been generally accepted (Mick had complained the first time and then complained when you had refrained the second time (“If you’re going to do the damn thing then do the damn thing.”)).

Ray had welcomed it with the same earnest enthusiasm he did everything. Of course he would appreciate a gesture like that.

Ray was the only one you didn’t kiss anymore.

You hadn’t kissed him since he’d started dating Kendra.

It hadn’t felt right, kissing him while he was involved. Granted, you’d still given Kendra little kisses on her temple when you’d healed her. And when Nate and Amaya had started dating it hadn’t deterred you from giving either of them kisses. There was also the matter of Ray and Kendra breaking up with no change in regards to your willingness to kiss him.

Perhaps if your feelings for Ray had been purely platonic it wouldn’t have been a problem. If only.

You wanted more than the little kisses you could drop on the top of his head and you would not be an interloper. And when he and Kendra had split you’d continued your policy of not kissing him if only because it might have been too obvious.

Your natural inclination was to tamp down your feelings until you got over them anyway. You were sure it would happen at some point. Any day now. You just had to keep being patient. You were sure of it.

Any day now.

You’d assumed Ray hadn’t noticed.

Apparently you were a fool on all fronts.

The day had started with a rowdy encounter with a group of actual pirates appearing in California during the Gold Rush and, while all had turned out well, it had gotten bad first. As was Legends habit.

Amaya entertained her light gossip while she sat on a Med Bay chair and patiently waited for you to complete your work on fixing the laceration on her arm. It only required the lightest touch for you to be able to read and control the inner workings of her body, but your habit was a hand at the affected spot and a hand at the base of the neck. You had found that you required less concentration if you kept certain things constant.

The cut had been clean and it was an easy task to accelerate the cell regeneration that stitched her skin back together neatly. It didn’t even require much energy from either of you. You were free to discuss, then, Sara’s latest conquest in the form of a prospector’s pretty daughter (“I mean, I called it the moment I saw that smile she sent her. Made that girl weak in the knees” “Sara does have that effect.”).

You didn’t even notice Ray standing in the doorway as you laughed about whether or not Sara had scored with Queen Guinevere.

When you were satisfied with the full closure of fascia and epidermis on her arm you smiled and leaned forward to plant a gentle peck at the center of her forehead. She smiled fondly and shook her head (she had been more than surprised the first time and it had required seeing you do the same to other teammates a few times before she had willingly offered her temple).

“Have time to check me out?”

You jumped, Ray’s voice startling you, and glared at him when he came into your line of sight. And then glared at Amaya for keeping quiet and letting him scare you, even if by accident.

She did not look sorry.

“Of course I do.” You said, gesturing to the empty chair. “But if you scare me like that again you’ll have brain freeze for a week.”

“Sorry.” He smiled at you and you forgot all about it. He hopped up on the chair and let his legs swing out under him, looking so much younger and innocent than his giant biceps suggested (you might have had a particular preoccupation with his arms and you found no shame in that given how spectacular they were).

Amaya slid off the chair and gave your arm a squeeze. “I’m going to see what Zari is up to. Thank you.” And she was gone.

Ray waved at her as she left and then turned his full focus on you. You hadn’t seen him since you’d returned to the ship and hadn’t known about the cut on his forehead. He would have been your first patient otherwise- a head wound was always important to check on.

“What took you so long to come to me?” You frowned and moved around the chair Amaya had previously occupied. “You know better.” You scolded. As you neared he slid his knees apart to make room for you between his legs and ducked his head to give you better access. He was still taller than you, even sitting in the chair.

He shrugged. “Sorry. I felt alright.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot all about your meta ability to read the mechanical, organic, and biochemical workings of the body. Surely you knew better.” Just because you wanted to kiss him all the time didn’t mean you were going to be any less yourself around him.

You shook your head at him even as you laid a hand at his temple and the other at his neck. You ignored the way his shoulders loosened and marked the way all of him seemed to relax down to your ability subconsciously at work. In seconds you were satisfied it was only a superficial wound and he had no signs of a concussion or any other neurological problems. He still should have come to you sooner.

“You are aware that I’ve never fixed brain death, right? Don’t know if that’s even within my scope.”

“I wasn’t going to be brain dead!” He raised his head to argue and you glared until he lowered it once more.

“You didn’t know that, now did you?”

You thought you could see him smile to himself. “I won’t do it again.”

“Damn well better not.”

Checking his blood sugar and pressure while you were healing the few bruises and the main cut only took a couple of minutes and you were done. “There. All better.” You stepped back (if you let your hands trail on the skin of his neck as you pulled away you would never admit) and smiled at him.

“It was just you and Amaya who were hurt, right?”

His “yeah” was quiet, but you shrugged it off. You expected him to slide off the chair and maybe the two of you would go get something from the galley. Instead he sat there and watched you toss away the bloodied strip of cloth Amaya had used as a bandage and wipe down the blood that had dropped onto the chair before washing your hands.

“Did I do something?”

You turned from your task to send him a confused look, your brows knitting together. “Aside from not come to me when you knew you should have?” You asked, slowly.

He was leaning forward in the seat, hands on either side of his legs, an intent look on his face. “You don’t kiss me anymore.”

You froze and had to wait while your brain tried to catch up.

“You know, the kisses after you do your thing and heal us. You used to do them. And then you stopped. I’m the only one who doesn’t get them.”

Quickly you ran through your options. You could deny (“That is ridiculous. I kiss you every time and you just don’t remember.”) or claim you didn’t notice (“Did I stop? I hadn’t noticed at all. Silly me.”) or maybe even convince him you hated him (“Well, Raymond, maybe it’s because you’re so lame.”). None of them sounded like great choices. You briefly considered just leaving, but it was a small ship and you were bound to run into him again.

So, in the end you only had one real course of action. Be cool.

He took your pause as invitation to continue. “At first I thought that it was because I started dating Kendra and you just weren’t sure about boundaries.” He shrugged. “But you still kissed Kendra. And you still kissed Nate and Amaya when they were together.”

Damn him for paying attention to things.

Thankfully, you considered yourself a fair actress and a good liar. You cleared your throat quietly. “Sorry, buddy. I didn’t realize you missed them.” ‘Buddy’ was important.

“I liked them. They were nice.” He said plainly and you were glad you could control your own physiological responses and were in no danger of blushing.

“I did stop because you were dating Kendra. I didn’t want to step on any toes.” You shrugged. “And then realized Kendra wouldn’t mind, but I guess I just didn’t get back in the habit.” Half truths were always the best way to lie. The fewer outright lies you had to keep up with the smaller the chance of being caught- Lying 101.

He watched you without saying anything for a beat or two.

“Here, let’s give you a kiss.” You crossed back over to him and tilted his head down gently to reach his forehead. Kissing him should have been normal, but your punk feelings were going to cause trouble and you knew it. Still…

You figured you were making up for all the little kisses you hadn’t given him when you let your lips linger on his temple.

When you pulled back his eyes were closed and the temptation to kiss him properly nearly overwhelmed you. You took several steps back instead. “There you go. All better for real this time.”

He had a strange smile on his face- a little quiet, a little reserved- but you didn’t want to stick around and analyze it. “I’m going to get something to eat, gotta recharge.” You said before he could speak and turned to leave.

It wasn’t until later that you even considered the way his heart had sped up.

#ray palmer x reader #ray palmer imagine #the atom imagine #legends of tomorrow imagine

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avidbeader · 7 years

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Fanfic: Voltron S3 speculation

I posted a little bit of what I had written of this here. I think this is pretty much going to be part one of three. When the plot bunny first attacked, I was thinking I would make it full-on Sheith, but it may just strongly hint at it instead. We’ll see what happens in the other chapters.

And before anyone gets upset at Lance’s characterization here, I will simply say “I have a reason.”

Rated T for a bit of language. Feedback/concrit is welcome.

“Lance, pull up! Goddammit, pull up!”

“Leave me alone, Mullet! I got this!”

“No, you don’t! Break off!”

Keith watched in dread as Lance continued straight toward the Galra warship, tail-cannon firing. The warship’s fire began concentrating on the approaching target and Lance’s laughter sounded over the channel.

“Told you I—”

Two energy beams clipped the Blue Lion at the same time, sending it spinning out of control.

“Lance!” Hunk and Pidge’s frantic voices echoed through Keith’s helmet.

“I knew it! Come on, we’ve gotta finish this! Pidge, you take the three! I’ll take the nine! Use your tree cannon on my mark! Hunk, armor up and come from below!”

Keith flew opposite of Pidge and deployed Red’s cannon. “Hunk, now!”

The Yellow Lion glowed as its armor appeared and zoomed up, crashing into the warship and sending it up and sideways.

“Pidge, now!”

From either side, the Red and Green Lions fired. Vines erupted all along the rear of the ship, taking out its propulsion. The front broke off as the middle of the ship disintegrated in the wake of the Red Lion’s energy beam.

With the immediate threat neutralized, Keith tried to pull them together. The Blue Lion drifted some distance away. “Lance, Lance? Do you copy?”

There was a groan and then a more coherent “yeah”.

“Hunk, can you tow Blue back to the Castle?”

“On it!”

“Princess, are there any other Galra in the area?”

“Negative. The area is clear for the moment.”

“Okay, let’s get back.”

<> <> <> <> <>

Allura was in the conference room they used for debriefings, slumped forward with her head in her hands. Pidge arrived before Keith and sat, pulling up her gauntlet display to record her observations of the Galra ship and its weaknesses for future use. Keith entered the room and yanked off his helmet, resisting the urge to fling it into a corner.

Hunk and Lance arrived together, Hunk keeping one arm around his friend. Allura sat up at that. “Lance, are you injured?”

“I think he’s okay, just got stunned from those lasers. But we can check him out after this.” Hunk helped Lance sit.

Lance grinned loopily at the princess. “Just taking one for the team!”

That is it. Keith slammed one fist on the table. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed if they’d concentrated their fire better!”

Lance stiffened at that. “I was just doing what you do! You draw fire all the time!”

“Because I know I’m not likely to get hit!”

“Yeah, we know! We know! You’re the genius pilot and I’m just a seventh-wheel guy who should never have gotten past cargo class!”

“What? Lance, no! The Red Lion is smaller and faster. It’s not about piloting skills, it’s about using the best tool for the job. If you had stayed back, we could have used your sonic cannon as our first attack and disabled the ship immediately.”

Is this how Shiro felt? The headache forming behind his eyes as he tried to present things logically to an illogical group? Of course not; we didn’t argue with him like this.

Lance’s face turned mulish. “Whatever. If you hadn’t been shouting at me and breaking my focus, it would have worked! Who made you leader anyway?”

The air around the table seemed to disappear as everyone froze. Keith swallowed hard, remembering the conversations with Shiro and willing himself not to cry, not here.

“Shiro did. He said two different times that he wanted me to lead the group if something happened to him.”

“When? I don’t remember that vote happening!”

“Voting’s not part of a monarchy…” Pidge joked in a stage whisper, tilting her head at Allura.

Lance whirled on the princess. “Did you okay this? Did you decide that Keith should be the leader? ’Cause I don’t see him piloting Black!”

Pidge put her head on the table and groaned as her words had the opposite effect from her intentions.

Allura’s eyes widened at Lance’s accusation, then narrowed. “Calm yourself, Blue Paladin. You know as well as I do that the Lions choose their pilots.”

“Then we can ask Black! Let’s all go down and see what Black says!” Hunk’s hands were out, fingers fluttering anxiously as he tried to defuse the argument.

“Yes, we should probably do that. But Keith,” Allura turned to him, “when did Shiro say this?”

“The first time was when we were stranded on that unstable rock of a planet after the corrupted wormhole. He was pretty sure he was going to die before anyone got to us. The second time was when he and I were on our way to the Blade of Marmora headquarters.”

“There’s only your word that those conversations happened!” Lance accused.

“So now I’m a liar, too?”

“Well, you kept being half-Galra a secret for ages, so yeah?”

”I DIDN’T KNOW!” Keith shouted at the top of his lungs, powered by the old fears and pain of suspecting his origins, learning the truth and yet nothing at the same time, with only Shiro by his side as it happened…

He turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose to hold the tears in. Allura cleared her throat.

“All right, we are all clearly on edge over the situation. Quickly, is there any new information to be added to our knowledge from this battle?”

Pidge shook her head. “No, princess. Just another mid-size warship. But bringing out our big guns sooner when we run into small groups of them is probably the way to go until we can form Voltron again.”

“Agreed,” Keith managed to get the word out without his voice breaking.

At that, Allura nodded. “Dismissed. We will gather in the Black Lion’s bay in one varga.”

<> <> <> <> <>

Keith got out of his armor and took a shower before getting dressed. When he picked up his belt, he paused and pulled out his dagger, the sigil on the hilt long since left uncovered. As he watched, it shimmered and grew into his blade.

The unanswered questions weighed on him. Kolivan had returned to the Blade of Marmora headquarters and Slav had gone with him, claiming the resources there would allow him a much higher chance of determining Shiro’s whereabouts and at the same time let him improve his gravity generators and replace the one that had hidden Ulaz’s outpost.

Keith still didn’t know how much of his ancestry was Galra. He still didn’t know what the connection was between him and the Blades. All he knew was Galra blood runs in your veins.

One answer leading to a hundred more questions. And he didn’t have a clue where to start looking.

Just like he had no clue where to find Shiro.

The sword glowed and shrank back to its dagger form as Keith covered his eyes with his free hand and finally let the tears fall.

<> <> <> <> <>

They gathered in the hangar, looking at the inert form of the Black Lion. For a long moment, nobody moved or spoke. Then Lance broke the silence.

“So what happens now? Is it like when we found the Blue Lion? We knock?” He strode forward to the muzzle and rapped on it.

Keith winced.

Nothing happened. Lance scowled, but retreated, ignoring the disapproving glares from Allura and Coran.

“Pidge, you try.” Hunk pushed her forward gently.

She snorted at the idea that Black would choose her, but stepped forward and laid one hand on Black’s paw. “Um, hi there. We kind of need your help to find Shiro. What do we have to do?”

Nothing. Pidge bit her lip and moved back.

Taking a deep breath, Hunk advanced and put his hand in the same place as Pidge before closing his eyes and bowing his head. Keith could see the reluctance on his face as he waited.

With a deep sigh and a slump of his shoulders, Hunk looked up into the Lion’s face and returned to the group.

Lance’s brow furrowed. He spat, “Okay, then, Keith. Looks like she’s all yours.”

Keith shook his head. “What about Allura? Or Coran?”

Coran gave one short, barking laugh. “I highly doubt it would be me. The Red Lion made it very clear on Taujeer that I was not paladin material.”

Keith looked at Allura, who met his eyes and nodded. She approached the Lion and laid one hand on the muzzle.

Her hand began to glow a pale pink and for a brief second the Lion’s eyes seemed to spark. Keith felt a surge of hope that this would somehow be the answer, in spite of the difficulties it would cause.

But the spark and the glow faded and Allura let out a soft groan of disappointment. She turned to Keith with a stricken look.

“It has to be you, Keith.”

He shook his head, feeling his eyes sting. Hunk put a hand to his shoulder. Allura, still touching the Lion, held her other hand out to him.

“Oh, come on, you emo jerk! Stop making a production out of it!” Lance threw up his hands and stormed out. Allura glanced at Coran, who nodded and followed him.

Pidge stepped up to Keith’s other side and took his arm. “It’s okay, Keith. We need to know.”

Keith swallowed hard but let them lead him over to Allura and Black. He stepped forward and put one hand to the Lion’s muzzle. He bowed his head, remembering, and repeated the words he had used once before.

“I know I’m not Shiro, but he’s in trouble. We need to help him.”

Black’s eyes flashed. She lifted her head and roared in Keith’s mind.

<> <> <> <> <>

Red would not respond to him. The space where she had filled his mind was aching and empty.

But she would not respond to anyone else. Her particle barrier was up and no amount of entreaty would budge it.

The situation was worse than ever. They had lost the tactical advantage of Red’s speed and they still couldn’t form Voltron. Keith was torn to shreds: the severed link with Red was a constant throb in his head but the link with Black was shaky. Black seemed hugely offended that Keith wanted Red’s presence and indifferent to his desperate need to find Shiro. Keith had yet to duplicate whatever power it was that Shiro had used to retrieve the black bayard from Zarkon.

The team was falling into factions. Coran seemed to make it his mission to support Lance through his turmoil and while Hunk obviously wanted Lance and Keith to make amends, he physically stayed with Lance more.

Pidge rarely left Keith’s side other than sleeping, showering, or when they were in the Lions. She would join him on the training deck or bring her laptop with her current project to wherever he was. When the entire group was together, Allura had Keith stand next to her and made it pointedly clear with her tone and expressions that she considered him the leader of Voltron.

But nothing helped. Lance continued to either avoid Keith altogether or snipe at him verbally when the princess wasn’t in the room. The only time they could keep it together was in battle.

They continued to pick off single warships and small groups. As of yet there had been no news spreading through the Empire that Zarkon was dead, but there had been rumors of heirs being summoned. The possibility that it had all been for nothing, that Zarkon had survived while Shiro had not, haunted Keith’s thoughts and chased him into his dreams.

<> <> <> <> <>

Keith was in the large dining room, three different display tablets set in front of him. He was trying to coordinate the latest intel from the Blades with the castle’s archives to create an up-to-date database of the areas they had been through so far. For once, he was alone.

Black poked at him sulkily.

You know what I mean. No Lance holding his grudge. No Hunk fretting because we can’t get past the situation. No Pidge trying to distract me into feeling better.

He could see that they were coming apart at the seams without Shiro and no matter what he tried, he couldn’t stop it.

God, Shiro, where are you?

He leaned forward on his elbows, putting his head in his hands.

The sound of laser fire in the distance jerked him to his feet, drawing his dagger out and expanding it. When the sound faded, he moved over to the controls that would bring up communication within the castle. “Allura? Coran? What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Allura’s face appeared on the comm screen.

“I thought I heard gunfire from my location.”

Coran’s voice echoed behind her. “I think Hunk and Lance were going to train. They must be using their bayards.”

Keith drew a deep breath, trying to get his heart rate to settle. “That must be it. Sorry to worry you.”

He moved back to the table, but before he could sit, Pidge charged into the room with her laptop. “Keith! Keith!”

Her voice echoed oddly, warring between excitement and fear.

“Pidge?”

“I think I’ve found a way to locate my dad! I got enough data from the various prisoner records we’ve gathered to predict the number ID system they use and going by Shiro’s number, I have a set of possibilities to try! If we can get on board a Galra ship long enough to access one of their records hubs, I can search for these specific numbers! I mean, I might find Matt’s records too, but since he’s been busted out of prison I don’t know what I can do with that information if I find it.”

Hunk and Lance poked their heads in, hearing her enthusiasm.

Weren’t they supposed to be on the training deck?

Keith put his hands on her shoulders. “Whoa, wait a minute. The last time we tried getting access to Galra data we lost Allura. That’s too much of a risk.”

Pidge waved him off. “This will be different! You can access the controls without tipping them off—they only caught Shiro because he was a former prisoner. And we can try that strategy you mentioned, having Lance knock out all their systems with his sonic cannon long enough for you and me to sneak on board in Green!”

“I don’t know, Pidge. There’s still so many things that could go wrong.”

Lance glared at him. “If she had a lead on Shiro, you’d do it.”

Keith’s head jerked up at that. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. If Pidge was proposing this in order to find Shiro, you’d be halfway to the control room by now.”

“No, I wouldn’t! We’d need to go over the situation carefully first, make a plan—”

“Okay then, leader. What’s the plan?”

Keith glanced at Pidge, who was staring at him with wide eyes. She already looked hurt at the possibility that he would act on Shiro’s behalf, but not her father’s.

He grabbed her laptop in one hand and her arm in the other. “Come on, let’s go talk to Allura, since Lance here has nothing to offer.” Pidge’s expression brightened immediately. As he led her out, he made a point of brushing past Lance, who hissed some insult at him in Spanish.

Keith ignored him. He had more important things to worry about.

<> <> <> <> <>

Best laid plans…

Keith kept his focus on the sentries in front of him, trusting Pidge to let him know if she needed him. Everything had worked smoothly for the first part of the plan: they had found a single Galra battleship, Lance had temporarily disabled it, they had snuck on board with Green, Pidge had located a terminal, Keith had unlocked it. Lance and Hunk had started leading the ship on a merry chase around an asteroid patch while they worked.

And then they were spotted by a single guard out of place because he had stopped to adjust some bit of armor.

Keith had brought the guard down, but not before he had opened his comm to alert the ship. This was the third wave of sentries but so far they were in small groups and falling to the sweeps of his bayard and blade. He had taken a few minor hits but thought he could keep this up a little longer, but Pidge had sworn she only had a handful of numbers to search…

“Pidge! How much more?”

“Two more!” The despair in her voice was gut-wrenching.

Keith gulped in air and lunged, sending the red-and-white sword through one of the two remaining sentries while slashing the other with the Galra blade. And then he spotted the guard at the end of the hall, taking aim with a rifle—

“Pidge! Move!” He tried to bring his shield up but his blade was in the way, slowing him down.

She looked up, startled, just as the bolt hit her. Keith screamed a denial, barely aware of Lance and Hunk shouted their confusion at him. He flung his blade and it hummed as it spun through the air, getting the guard in the neck before sailing back to his hand. He stowed both weapons and scooped Pidge up in his arms.

“Hunk! Lance! Heading back to the Green Lion! Attack the ship!”

He ran for Green, holding Pidge close. At least she was breathing. At least the blast had hit her arm and shoulder, not her chest. At least she had been able to work from the tech in her gauntlet instead of bringing a laptop. At least the way back to Green was clear for the moment.

He made it to the Lion, carrying Pidge up to the cockpit. He took the pilot’s chair, keeping her on his lap, and laid one hand on a steering column.

“Green, please! Can you get us back to the castle?”

For one agonizing moment Green didn’t move. Then Pidge groaned and laid her hand on the other steering column. “Please, girl…”

Green roared and blasted a hole in the hull of the ship, leaping out into starry space.

<> <> <> <> <>

Once Pidge was safely in a cryo-pod, Keith followed Allura to the debriefing room. Lance and Hunk were already seated, both looking tired but unhurt.

Allura sat and looked at them. “Status?”

Hunk replied first. “Yellow and Blue have some minimal damage, but I can have them back up to speed in a couple of days. Faster if Pidge gets out of her pod and helps me.”

Allura shook her head. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

Keith sat up at that. “What? But it was a shoulder injury!”

“It was a shoulder injury that fractured bones, which pierced a lung. She might have died if you hadn’t got her back here so quickly.”

Keith felt his face drain of color at that. He hadn’t felt any broken bones when he carried her. Had he made a bad situation worse by moving her?

“Okay, so Pidge is out of commission for a while. Not good. Do you know if she found her dad?” Lance glared at Keith.

He swallowed. “No, but I don’t think she did. She was almost at the end of her list of numbers when that guard shot her.”

“So it was all for nothing. We’ve got damaged Lions and a teammate out of commission for days because you went with her plan!”

“Wait, you were the one that said we should try it! Why are you blaming me now?”

“No, I just pointed out that if it were Shiro you wouldn’t have even taken the time to lay out a plan. You’d’ve just gone for it. Because you won’t let go of the idea that he’s still alive!”

“Lance! That is enough!” Allura snapped at him and he turned his glare onto her.

“Is it? Do you think Shiro’s still alive?”

Allura looked like he had slapped her. “I…I don’t know. I don’t understand why the Lions are reacting the way they are. Black accepted Keith but the bond doesn’t feel solid.”

Keith added, “It feels like when she let me in to help Shiro before—”

“Whoa, whoa, wait just a quiznaking minute! You piloted Black before?”

“I said so at the time! When we got tossed from the wormhole onto that stupid rock of a planet, Shiro was being attacked by a group of monsters! I asked Black to let me in so we could help him and she did!”

“And I remember you asking Coran all kinds of questions about Blue! You won’t be satisfied until you’ve got access to all five Lions!”

They all stared at Lance. Keith simply could not formulate a response to Lance’s unfathomable leaps.

Unfortunately, Lance took his silence for assent. “Yeah, thought so. Princess, I think we need to visit some of our allies and see if we can find a couple new paladins. You’re going to have to replace Shiro no matter what. And you have to replace either me or Keith, because I’m not working with him anymore.” He stood and looked over at Hunk, who had a stunned look on his face. “You coming?”

Hunk stood but waited until Lance had stalked out of the room. “It’s got to be his temper talking. I’ll try to get him to calm down.” He left as well.

Allura looked at Keith, her expression stricken.

He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do anymore. Shiro should never have chosen me to lead.” He turned and left the room.

<> <> <> <> <>

He went down to Red’s hangar first, hoping that Blue or Yellow might have communicated the growing rift between the paladins. Perhaps that would be enough to convince her to open up to him again. But the particle barrier remained in place when he touched it.

He left his hand in place and leaned against the red grid. “Please, girl. I need you. Please let me in.”

A sudden bolt of pain lanced through the place in his head where Red usually resided, driving him to his knees.

She had rejected him. Again.

He staggered to his feet and left, barely aware of the tears running down his face.

I can’t do this anymore. I have to find Shiro or die trying.

He went to Black’s hangar and climbed up to the cockpit. He sat in the pilot’s seat and watched as the console sprang into life. Black rumbled uneasily in his head, as if she already knew what he wanted.

“Look, I know you know what happened to Shiro. There has got to be some way for you to track him. Show me. I’ll do whatever it takes to save him.”

Black’s rumbles grew to a warning growl.

“I don’t care if it’s dangerous. I don’t care if it kills me, as long as we get him back.”

Black snarled at that.

“You heard me! I can’t lead Voltron, I’ve tried and failed! This is the only thing I can do to make it right! Now help me!”

Without warning, Black jettisoned him into inky space.

<> <> <> <> <>

He panicked for a moment before realizing he was still able to breathe. He looked around, seeing a vast, empty black landscape with a starry sky above.

The astral plane. This is how Shiro described it.

His consciousness was here, his body still in the pilot’s seat of the Black Lion. In theory, anyway—he felt awfully solid and real as he took a few steps on the sandy black ground.

“Why here? Is Shiro here?” He spun around, looking in every direction for a sign of something other than the endless dark. “Black?”

But, like Red, Black was no longer present in his mind.

“No! Black, where are you?” He fell to his knees, the isolation crashing down over him.

He was alone. He was trapped and utterly alone. Some leader he turned out to be.

“Allura! Coran! Anyone!”

Keith!

His head snapped up at the voice.

Hang on, buddy!

He looked around wildly. “Shiro! Where are you?”

Keith, you have to come to me. The mind-meld can only get me so far!

He remembered the mind-meld practice Coran had put them through. Keith had been willing to share. Pidge had not.

Pidge, who was in a cryo-pod right now, who had almost died because he hadn’t stuck to his guns as leader. He had known it was a dangerous plan but let Lance goad him into risking it anyway.

He curled up on his side, forehead to knees, squeezing his eyes shut. He was coming apart, hearing Shiro in this empty place.

Keith, please! Come to me!

“You shouldn’t have made me leader, Shiro. I’m no good at it. Lance hates me, I got Pidge hurt, Hunk doesn’t trust me anymore.”

I’ll make it right. I swear I’ll fix it all if you’ll just come to me. I need you, Keith. I need you to wake up. Please!

Keith opened his eyes and spotted a flash of white against the endless black. He tried to keep it in his line of vision, even as it blinked in and out.

That’s it! Come on, come to me! I’m here, find me!

As Keith watched, the white shape approached and sharpened. It was Shiro. Shiro in his paladin armor, striding toward him.

“Shiro!” Keith shot to his feet and started running toward him. The white armor, Shiro’s pale face, his shimmering eyes, everything stood out against the midnight-purple of the astral plane.

“Shiro! I found you!”

We found you, Keith!

Keith reached Shiro and flung his arms around him. He felt Shiro return the hug and buried his face against Shiro’s shoulder, against the against the smooth armor…

…the soft black cloth?

“I’ve got him! Do it!”

Before Keith could ask what he meant, the black landscape shattered into endless blue-white.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Part 2

So, now I will say I was inspired partly by this story, “Believe Me, For a Little While” by unalignedant. I love this premise. I have written this premise before in my very first attempt at Harry Potter fanfic. But after reading unalignedant’s story, the possibility for something like this starting S3 hit me like a ton of bricks.

If you’re not quite sure what I’m doing, I will be working on the next part as much as I can while also working on my other Voltron stories and posting here first. If you want to be surprised, don’t read the inspiration fic yet.

Again, feedback is always welcome either as a reply or through my inbox.

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron fanfic #fanfic: voltron

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sadspottedpanda · 7 years

Text

The Cold Road to Redemption (FFXV Fanfic) : Part 3

Screams. That's all Prompto could hear from his locked cage deep inside the bowels of Gralea's Zegnautus Keep. He's sickened by that fact that Ardyn had caused all this mayhem. Daemons were crawling all over the city, slaughtering whoever they could feast on as the Starscourge spread and mutated everything it touched. He knew all too well what happens to humans infected with Starscourge and Luna was no longer around to help kill that horrible disease.

Niflheim was all but destroyed and the rest of Eos was next. Prompto's mind turned to all the people he cared about. There was Cid and Cindy in Hammerhead, Iris in Cape Caem, and, of course, his friends. Were his friends coming? Were they even still alive? He was worried sick about all of them. Worried that the moment the Starscouge bled into Lucis, all of them would be swept away and turned into daemons. Meanwhile, Ardyn had injected him with a weird serum. Even though nothing was happening to him yet, he felt really groggy

"It must be nice to have friends.."

Ardyn's disembodied voice suddenly echoed throughout the empty halls.

"I hope you find your dear Prompto soon."

Prompto was confused. Did he hear that right? Was someone coming to get him? His friends? Were they here?! That was enough to spark a little bit more hope in him. His friends were alive and they were coming to get him! All he had to do was wait. Wait for that door to open and his friends to come through.

Ardyn's menacing voice came over the intercoms again, taunting Noctis and telling him about the MT's. How they came into being and how they were raised as weapons for the Empire. Promto shuddered, thinking that if he never escaped when he was a child, he would've ended up a hollow, fighting monster - a fate worse than a machine's. Thankfully, his friends made him feel that he was one of them. Human. He felt guilty about hiding who he really was from them, but he didn't want to risk losing them. they made him feel alive and happy. He was never lonely with them. Even though they were just sitting in silence, their presence was enough to make him feel he belonged somewhere.

The minutes dragged on, and the door stayed shut. Even Ardyn became quiet. Prompto musted up all his strength to stop himself from thinking that his friends had been killed. "They can't be dead..." He thought to himself. Then he saw the thin, dark lines forming on his arms. The serum had finally made its way through Prompto's entire bloodstream and it was starting to attack him from the inside. He was expecting it to be painful, but he didn't even notice until now.

"No...not now..."

The door finally flew open with Noct, Gladio, and Ignis rushing through, immediately grabbing at the restraints immobilizing Prompto. They were obviously worried, asking him if he was ok and how he was holding up.

"I...I'm fine. Were you worried about me?"

"Of course we were. what kind of a question is that?" Noct replies with and smirk.

Prompto smiles to himself. He was safe now. Noct helps him to his feet and embraces him tightly. He could feel him slightly trembling as he hoarsely whispers, "Dude, I'm sorry...please, forgive me...I don't want to lose you again..." The tears start flowing. Prompto knew his time was limited. He was starting to feel the serum's effects on his body as it targeted his organs and infected it with its sickening darkness.

"Prom, you don't look so good. What did they do to you?"

It was hard to lie to Noct. Prompto was never a good liar anyway and even if he's tried lying before, Noct just saw past it. It's especially hard to lie now, given that they were trapped in the heart of the Empire with daemons all over the place, but he just couldn't tell Noct that he was going to die after all he and his friends went through just to find him.

"Look, if you're gonna lie, I'm going to see right past you. You suck at lying."

Prompto chuckles. "I'm good. Really. Just a bit tired, that's all."

Noct stays silent for a minute. "Fine. Just don't die on me, alright. We gotta get the crystal and get out of here before it's too late." Prompto nods and leans on Noct for support.

Gladio takes the lead with Ignis. "We'll clear the way in front of you. Try not to get killed from behind, alright? Stay sharp." Noct and Prompto follow the two, slashing and shooting at anything that dared accost them. As far as they knew and based on what they've seen, the four of them were the only ones alive in the facility, probably all of Gralea.

As the two leading men turn a corner, Noct looks straight into Prompto's eyes with a pleading look.

"Prom...please, tell me the truth."

"The truth?"

"Now's not the time to play cute and dumb. I mean, I like it when you do it, but this isn't the place or time for it."

Prompto sighs. The words don't come out easily, but he can't keep this from his best friend. It was too obvious.

"Ardyn...he found me after I fell off the train. He...He injected something in me. Something bad. Dude, I'm scared. It hurts. I can feel it in me and I don't know what it is. I...I..." Prompto breaks down in Noct's arms and Noct is fuming.

"The son of a bitch! I'm gonna kill him!"

"Hey, you two still alive? I was-" Gladio's taken aback by the scene in front of him. "What's going on here? everything ok?"

"No! Everything's not ok!" Noct screams. "That bastard did something to Prompto! Injected him with some fucking shit! Look at him!" Gladio looks at Prompto and his face contorts into an expression of pure rage. The thin black lines on Prompto's arm are slowly creeping up his veins. His skin is getting paler by the minute and it's obvious that he's struggling to even walk right now.

Ignis was blind and couldn't see the extent of Prompto's condition, but he could sense that Ardyn had done something horrible to his friend. "Prompto..." for the first time in a really long time, Ignis is speechless.

Prompto looks up and smiles at his friends. "Go."

The word enacts a collective "What?!" from all three men. "We started this together, and I'm not leaving with one man down!" shouts Noct. "I agree. We'll get you out, Prom." Gladio chimes in. "Perhaps we could find a cure while we're here. We must make haste." says Ignis calmly. The reactions touch Prompto's heart, but he knew better. If he went with them, he might end up killing them if he suddenly turned into something. He opens his mouth to argue, but Noct and Gladio are already picking him up.

Noct gives Prompto a reassuring look. "We're gonna save you, Prom. You have my word. It's not like the first time we've done it either." "Hey, what's that...supposed to mean?" Prompto manages a smile before a violently coughing. Particles of blood stained black splatter on the floor. "Hey, we gotta hurry. C'mon!" Gladio urges them to move. "We've passed so many labs, one of them ought to have at least something!"

Noctis had a look of pure panic on his face, tears trickling down as he ran with Prompto in his arms. "Damn it!" He could already feel Prompto slipping away with each passing second. Potions were useless. Not even precious elixirs had any positive effect on Prompto's condition.

"Stop...Guys...Please..." pleads Prompto weakly. "Enough..."

"Hang on, Prom. We're gonna find something. I am not losing you, goddamnit!" Noct was close to his breaking point. His best friend was dying in his arms and he refused to believe that there was nothing to be done. He runs into a lab while Ignis and Gladio look for anything that could help in another.

"Noct!" Prompto gripped Noct's arm. "Stop..." The black lines were now up to Prompto's neck, sucking whatver precious life and humanity he had left. "I...I don't want...to die like this...I want to die...human."

"What are you saying?! You're not going to die, Prom! I promised! I promised I'd save you!" Noct falls to his knees and cradles Prompto in his arms, outright sobbing and his chest heaving.

"You can still save me...Noct." Prompto shakily puts his gun in Noct's hand. The cold metal makes contact with Noctis' fingers and instantly elicits a violent reaction. "No, Prom...anything but that...there has to be a way..."

"I'm running out...of time, Noct...Don't worry...I'll be ok..."

Finally realizing that there was nothing else he could do, Noct nods and pulls Prompto close to him with one arm. He hums Prom's favorite chocobo song slowly and gently rocks him like a mother would to a baby. He lifts the gun with his other hand, pointing it at Prompto's head.

"Take it easy, buddy. Look after Luna for me, ok?"

"You can...count on it, buddy." Prompto smiles and closes his eyes. It's been awhile since he's felt peace. He could get used to it.

#ffxv fanfic

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itsclydebitches · 7 years

Link

Summary:

“He likes this song.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

In which Cisco is given seven months to fall in love with Barry Allen. It’s admittedly a little weird - what with Barry being unconscious and all - but since when was anything normal nowadays?

Fandom: The Flash (TV show)

Words: Through Chapter Two: 4,769 (will be around 12k total)

Warnings: None

Pairings: Barry/Cisco

Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3 (AO3 recommended for formatting)

~~~

Worth the Wait: Chapter Two

Bartholomew Please-Call-Me-Barry Allen. Born 1989 to a Henry and Nora Allen, in their small, shockingly normal suburban home. That alone sent Cisco’s mind into a tailspin and really—he’d think later—it should have been a hint too. Because who the hell had a bio that was somehow this normal and this interesting? In the first freaking sentence?

Forget the god-awful name. Or even the fact that Barry was only a year younger than Cisco—thoughts of how they might have ended up in the same space taking up far too much of his time. All of it paled in comparison to the tragedy that was the guy’s home life and, like a multi-car pile up, it was the sort of horrible you just couldn’t look away from. Cisco spent hours that night flying through every article he could find, piecing all that horrible-ness together: the seemingly idyllic, nuclear family; Henry Allen suddenly going off the rails, the gory descriptions of Nora’s stab wounds; rumors that young Barry got a good look at the body (Jesus Christ); his insistence, for years, that there had been streaks of lightning in the house that night...

Cisco might have found the coincidence funny if it weren’t so goddamn sad. Who only knew how many shrinks the kid had needed to see.

Actually... Cisco knew. It was six, and he got the feeling from the notes he may or may not have illegally hacked into that either a) smarty-pants Barry had just started telling the grownups what they wanted to hear, or b) his adopted cop-dad started doing the exact same thing.

Cisco was really starting to like this guy.

He’d made it through to Barry’s work with the CCPD (“Dude. How are you still such a do-gooder after all that?”) when Caitlin startled him with a flood of light.

“Ahh, bright—bright!” Cisco cowered and hissed like a vampire. When his sight recovered from the assault he found Caitlin looking very unimpressed.

“Are you still here?” she breathed, managing to sound scandalized despite the fact that they’d both pulled all-nighters more times than he could count. She marched over, already ignoring Cisco in favor of checking Barry’s vitals. Her hands did that little fluttery, nervous thing before increasing his... something or other. That’s why she was the doctor.

Cisco just settled for groaning. His back was stiff and he really needed the little boy’s room. ASAP.

“You’re one to talk,” he groused. “It’s—five am!? What the hell, Caitlin!”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, looking about as haggard as Cisco felt. “Do you have any idea the sort of responsibility Dr. Wells has just placed on us? On me? My specialty is in bio-engineering, Cisco. I like my people in their culture dishes. And yes, I took on a broader role when Dr. Wells asked it of me. I do have my medical degree and I do have training in first responder treatments, but I know next to nothing about treating someone in a persistent, vegetative state, let alone someone exhibiting Mr. Allen’s strange, and frankly impossible, tissue regeneration, and—”

Cisco threw up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, slow it all down. No one is asking for a miracle here. If anyone can keep this guy fine and fair, it’s you, Caitlin. Besides, he—” Cisco stopped. “Wait. Did you just say tissue regeneration?”

Caitlin smiled wide and fake in that patronizing way of hers, pointing fiercely at Barry. “Yes. Apparently there was an incident where a nurse accidentally cut him—heaven only knows what she was doing—and the injury healed in seconds. Dr. Wells gave me the report last night and emphasized that it was the only copy. Told me to destroy it when I was done reading. Hush, hush!” and she put a finger to her lips, only slightly hysterical.

Cisco just blinked dumbly. “I didn’t get that far reading up on him.”

“...what?”

“What.”

They stared at one another across the bed. Barry breathed deeply between them.

Cisco stood. “That’s it. Coffee. Now. You and me. We spill all.”

“But—” Caitlin glanced worryingly at Barry, gnawing at her lip.

“He’s been asleep eight weeks, Caitlin. He’ll be fine without us for a hour.”

Dragging her out of the Cortex was easier after that, but, if pressed, Cisco would have admitted that even he was a little hesitant at leaving Barry’s side.

Get ahold of yourself, dude. He thought. It’s been a day.

Somehow, that wasn’t at all reassuring.

***

The facts, when summed up, were these:

The particle accelerator, heralded as Dr. Wells’ magnum opus and one of the greatest scientific achievements in modern day history, was meant to change the world. For the better.

It did that for exactly twenty-seven minutes.

Then, inexplicitly, there was an explosion that sent a wave of dark matter across Central City. That same shockwave merged with an incoming storm, binding at the molecular level.

A lightning bolt from said storm struck Barry Allen.

Barry Allen was now experiencing some freaky-ass side effects.

+1 No one else in Central City had come forward about similar freaky-ass side effects. However, as any decent scientist knew, the absence of data did not necessarily preclude the hypothesis’ possibility. There could be others.

But that was so not their problem. Cisco felt that one crazy science fiction experiment was enough for them, thank you very much.

“Do you think the government’s involved?” he whispered, stirring his coffee extra hard. Caitlin gave him a withering look over her tea.

“Do you think before you talk? You know STAR labs is privately funded.” Caitlin hesitated. “I think Dr. Wells is actually working to keep the government out of this. Mr. Allen has only been showing these... symptoms,” she lowered her voice anxiously, “for the last few days or so. It looks like Dr. Wells got him here just in time.”

Or decided the time was right, Cisco thought. Yeah, ‘course STAR labs was privately funded, notoriously so, and only about 15% of that came from donations. The rest was staggeringly out of pocket. Cisco had honestly called bullshit on that his first few weeks in, until Dr. Wells had offhandedly mentioned a family fortune as well as his “not insubstantial” number of patents. A quick google search had proven that true enough.

It all meant that Dr. Wells had more than enough money to pour into a victim’s treatment. One who, oh, might be a lowly forensic scientist not making enough to pay those kinds of medical bills. Easy enough then to get frequent ‘updates’ on the patient. Plenty of time to pull the guy out when things got... strange.

Cisco nodded, a number of things clicking together. Like what Dr. Wells might have been doing these last few weeks. Like the enthralled look in his eye when they set Barry up in the Cortex, laid out like some sort of strange museum display. Or an offering.

Cisco shivered. He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced, finding it cold.

“What now?” he muttered.

Caitlin’s wide-eyed stare said it all. They’d been rather lost since STAR Labs had closed, but they both had new jobs now. Caitlin needed to keep Barry alive. Cisco needed to keep his mouth shut.

And they both needed to make sure Dr. Wells didn’t do anything regrettable. Because like hell would Cisco let him mentor get caught up in some crazy, secret government conspiracy thing. They’d both stuck by him through the media backlash and endless lawsuits. The death threats slipped in the mail and—Cisco shivered again—the one bomb left outside their door. The one that was, thankfully, just a fake. They’d weathered that.

They’d weather this too.

“To the strange,” Cisco settled on, lifting his drink. Caitlin companionably toasted him back.

When Cisco drank the coffee it was still fucking cold.

***

Keep his mouth shut, sure. Cisco had never been very good at it, but at least he didn’t have anyone to blab to. It was kind of a blessing if he bothered to rationalize it. Except not. Looking around at his family—disappointed mother, too perfect brother, a sister in Caitlin (who’d just lost family of her own) and a pseudo-father figure in a reclusive Wells—Cisco realized that he really didn’t have anyone to confide in anyway. Being frank, he had colleagues and people bound to him by blood… but not many friends.

Fuck. No friends at all.

It made stalking Barry Allen so much easier.

Because Cisco didn’t stop with the guy’s tragic backstory. Of course not. Where was the fun in that? He wanted to dude’s social media.

And oh... holy hannah. Was it worth it.

“What a dork,” Cisco breathed. He said it with reverence, the kind of awe that could only come from a like-minded fella, the kind of breed who’d been bullied all through school and still had Magic the Gathering cards stuffed under his bed. Cisco knew Barry Allen. Barry Allen was him.

If, of course, he was a 6’2’’ model-type with a social life the size of a small planet. He could scroll through Barry’s Facebook and Instagram for weeks and still not reach the previous year. Didn’t the guy ever run into post limits?

“Awkward pic with hot girl, third wheel with hot guy and girl,” Cisco shook his head, scrolling quickly. “Eating. Lame-o sunglasses. More eating. What is that face? Tumbling down the stairs—okay, that one has gotta be staged.”

Except that Cisco looked across the room at this gangly sasquatch and was suddenly positive that he made it through life by tripping over his own feet and acquiring bruises he couldn’t explain. Barry probably got his shoelaces tangled together. He’d probably slip on a banana peel if one suddenly appeared.

Cisco snorted. “You would. You totally would.”

“Would what?”

“Oh my—” Cisco very nearly upended his laptop as he jumped, thinking for one shocking second that the coma guy had actually spoken. By the time his brain had re-booted Dr. Wells had already rolled into view, a slightly teasing look in his eyes.

And wow. He hadn’t seen that in a while.

It was a small improvement, but noticeable, and Cisco saw why as Dr. Wells bypassed him completely to get at Barry. There was a collection of saline drips in the back pocket of his chair that he immediately began hooking one up, taking care not to jostle the needle in Barry’s arm. A small dusting of crumbs on his shirt spoke of lunch actually eaten and—Cisco noticed with a pang—he had pile of journals in his lap, ready to be read. He didn’t need to see the titles to know they dealt primarily with long-term coma patients; theories on how to treat any... unexpected side-effects.

In the week since Barry had come to STAR labs his abnormal cellular structure had hung between the three of them, unacknowledged overtly, but driving them all the same. It was like they’d just been waiting for the world to give them something new to focus their talents on, something more personal than a particle accelerator. Caitlin had taken a dive into her research with real enthusiasm, the first since Ronnie’s passing. Dr. Wells was playing overseer once more. And Cisco...

Cisco was having the sudden, utterly crazy image of Barry in his Suit.

Yes, the Suit had a capital ‘s’ in his mind because it was the biggest and best-est thing he was ever going to make. A state of the art, indestructible, lightweight body armor that would completely revolutionize the world of protective gear. Big dreams, sure, but Cisco was confident enough in his abilities to imagine the outcome, even if it was years—decades even—down the line. Someday every fire fighter, police officer, and first responder would wear armor developed in STAR labs, capable of withstanding whatever the world chose to throw at them. In the Before it had been just a way to save lives. In the After it was also a way to save the Lab’s reputation.

He kept it on the table downstairs, pieces thrown into a hazardous pile that would only seem disrespectful to someone who didn’t know Cisco’s style. He could have put it up on a mannequin, sure, but for some reason Cisco didn’t want to give the Suit a face yet, even a blank one. It was too... individualized.

That is, until he started imagining Barry in it instead. Randomly. Little flashes like day dreams that just sort of came to him with no real context. It wasn’t even the Suit as it was now, but what Cisco wanted it to be someday. Slick and lean, dynamic, skin tight to allow for complete freedom of movement. Barry’s measurements were perfect for it.

Even weirder though was that Cisco hadn’t realized he’d wanted it in red until he’d seen that pic of Barry from last fall: sporting a fire-engine sweater that had him glowing amongst the crowd. That was exactly what Cisco’s Suit needed: a color that both stood out and oozed confidence. Don’t worry, we’re here to help. Don’t worry—you won’t get to see me bleed.

Too bad forensic scientists don’t need a Suit, he thought.

“Cisco?”

The realization that Dr. Wells was still waiting on an answer made a flush run up Cisco’s neck. His mind blanked on what they’d been talking about.

Dr. Wells seemed to realize. He folded his hands, not in his lap, but atop the blankets where Barry’s legs lay. It was the exact spot where Cisco had rested his feet on that first night together.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dr. Wells asked.

“They’re worth more than that,” Cisco said, but the joke didn’t land. He just shrugged, wondering if he could articulate everything his mind had been running through. Whether Dr. Wells, with that faraway look still lurking in his eyes, would be able to understand.

“Do you think he’ll ever wake up?” Cisco finally settled on. It was, in a way, all his thoughts rolled into one.

Instead of answering though Dr. Wells just regarded him. Insert here: bug under the microscope feeling.

“You’re growing attached to him,” he observed. It wasn’t necessarily a condemnation.

Cisco scoffed. “He just got here.”

“Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

He rolled past, the soft whrrr of his chair the only sound in the room. There might have been a time when Dr. Wells laid a rare, complimentary hand on Cisco’s shoulder. Now he just called out as he left:

“I’m growing fond of him too.”

He’ll wake up. He has to.

Cisco blew out a breath. At least he wasn’t the only one.

#Flash #The Flash #Barry/Cisco #Barry Allen #Cisco Ramon #flashfic

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