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cellsshapedlikestars · 3 years ago

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Hon' if you are accepting prompts (and only if you are!) can I have some spooky Sansa and Jon? I'm still not over them in spooky scenarios so I would love to read anything about it.

And for something a little more specific (in case that helps): maybe ghost!Sansa and Jon moves to her place and she is not happy, but also she loves his dog?

Or maybe Addams AU!

Or maybe Jon is the ghost and Sansa moves into his place?

Or they are talkshow hosts or something and a ghost is trying to get them together?

Or maybe YouTubers AU and their followed bug them until they agree to a Collab and it's Halloween or something like that?

Okay I went all over the place and clearly have too many ideas, but feel free to choose any of you do choose something!

First of all, I guess I'm sort of always taking prompts? I'll never turn them away, though they may also sit in my inbox forever (I'm looking at you, the last anon prompt from when I asked for them back in December...)

Second, spooky prompts! ❤️👻❤️👻❤️ If there's anything I love in this world, it's the supernatural/paranormal. And it may be the middle of summer, but I'm already longing for spooky season and I've been trying to vibe with it but it's hard when the days are so long, hot, and humid. (I desperately want to be able to go outside and not feel like I'm breathing soup, thank you very much.)

Before I get to the prompt itself, because I'm too wordy for my own good - your one prompt of Sansa/Jon is a ghost and the other moves in to their place... well, I've read that fic! It's actually locked on AO3 and I don't know if that means the author doesn't really want people finding it/linking to it, so I won't, but I guess DM me if you wanna know what it is?? I don't know the protocol for that. There's also Haunt Me, Then by the lovely @ode-to-an-inkwell which I read back when I was lurking and I loved it. It's the same base premise, but with a ton more plot!

The prompt I have chosen is the youtuber collab! Because I also love writing about/dissecting social media, apparently.

Sansa breathes – deep and even – and tries to stay centered in the middle of her group (away from the edges, away from the dark corners and the sounds coming from them and the people she knows are waiting for her there).

She wishes with all her strength that her followers had never found out that she's related to Robb. It's not something she was hiding, necessarily, but when she started her channel, she'd kept a lot of her personal life private. And honestly, she never thought it would get to this point – the point where she has millions of followers and Robb and Theon have millions of followers and those followers inevitably found out she and Robb are siblings.

A collab had been unavoidable. She just wishes it were any other activity than... this.

She lets out a strangled scream as something crashes to her right and she stumbles left, straight into the other person who's been dragged along tonight – Jon Snow. He catches her arm and keeps her upright and she almost thanks him until she hears him let out a laugh. It infuriates her and she rips her arm out of his grasp and sends him a glare, though it's short lived when she sees what looks like a jar of eyeballs on a shelf behind him and bile twists in her stomach.

She hates Halloween - she hates horror movies and jump scares and gore, and she especially hates haunted houses. But what else should she have expected for this collab? Robb and Theon have a dumb prank channel, of course they'd bring her – notorious wimp Sansa Stark – to a haunted house for the video. She thinks Robb got permission to film, because Dacey and Olyvar are flanking them with cameras to capture everyone's reactions.

“It's all fake,” Jon reminds her, though she barely hears his voice over the din of sound effects echoing through the dark corridor as they pass from one room to another.

“I know that,” she hisses, heart pounding wildly. They approach a doorway and – sure enough – right as she passes through, there's a person with heavy special effects makeup waiting on the other side to grab at her (another thing she resents – this is one of those places where the actors can touch you. They'd had to sign a waver). She screams in the actor's faux-bloody face and she swears he laughs at her.

In front of her, Robb and Theon are being obnoxious as usual. She doesn't really condone their prank channel and has often had to reign them in from doing something that would get one of them needlessly hurt (or would be considered, you know, illegal). Jon is usually an unwilling participant in their videos, and he has his own woodworking channel that has nowhere near the viewership that her makeup channel or Robb and Theon's prank channels do (she's told him, over an over, that if he showed his face on camera, he'd get more viewers, but he insists that he wants the focus to be on his work, not him). Jon walks next to her, calm, like nothing in this place fazes him, and she sort of resents him for this.

She understands it's all fake, she's not stupid, but that doesn't stop her fear response from kicking in every time something jumps at her, every time lights flicker or go out. It doesn't stop her stomach from turning whenever she sees the needlessly gory scenes like that doctor cutting a girl open, her fake intestines spilling out as the actress screamed.

“It'll be over soon,” Jon leans in close so she can hear him better, and for a moment a sense of calm washes over her. She loses it, though, as he moves away to give her space and she panics and reaches out and grabs his hand, tugging him back close to her.

A strange look passes over his face, but he doesn't say anything, just lets her grab onto his arm as they continue through the haunted house. She can't explain it, but with Jon next to her she feels... safe. She knows none of this is real, she knows none of these actors will actually hurt her, but it doesn't seem to matter, and it doesn't seem to matter that Jon won't actually have to protect her (though she somehow knows that he would if he ever had to, and that's a strange realization to have as she's walking through a room of terrifying clowns).

When it's finally over and they're outside, she breathes a sigh of relief and she feels muscles that she hadn't even realized were tensed relax.

“That was awesome,” Theon nearly shouts at one of the cameras. He and Robb talk loudly and animatedly for the cameras about the house, summarizing it for their audience (she knows they're likely to cut out a lot of the extreme scares and gore, since a good portion of their audience are kids and young teens).

“You good?” Jon murmurs to her and she realizes she still has a death grip on his arm.

“Oh,” she breathes with a forced laugh, “yeah,” and she lets go of his arm and immediately wishes she could have it back. (And then, some part of her brain whispers that she wishes she could have his arm wrapped around her instead, but she pushes that thought out because where did that even come from?)

Jon brings a hand up to scratch at his beard and shifts on his feet and she wonders if its because he feels awkward on camera. Jon's never liked being on camera, not really – it's why Robb and Theon always have to catch him off guard and why his videos – at most – only feature his hands and forearms (the comments on his videos about how attractive his hands and forearms are had been one of her main arguments for showing his face, but Jon had gotten weird after that and so she'd dropped it eventually).

“Hayride next?” Robb asks, which brings her back to the present.

“There's more?” she whines, twisting her face into a pout that always got her out of trouble when she was a kid, but Robb and Theon are already making their way towards the next attraction.

“You can sit next to me,” Jon offers, and she feels relief flood through her. “I'll be on the outside.”

She feels herself smile for the first time all night and nods and she's even more pleased when he – after a moment of hesitation – holds out his arm for her to take. She does so, curling her own arms around his and hugging it to her, keeping herself as close to him as possible as they walk through the fairgrounds to the haunted hayride.

They arrive right behind Robb and Theon and when Robb sees the way she's basically clinging to his best friend, there's a look that she can't figure out – it flicks from their joined arms, to Jon, then back to their arms, then to her, then back to Jon again and she feels Jon stiffen up next to her. Something silent passes between them and Robb looks almost... concerned? But then Jon shakes his head so subtly she thinks she's not supposed to see it and Robb nods back and turns around to face Theon and the cameras and Sansa's left more confused than anything.

The next tractor and wagon pull up to the entrance and the previous riders disembark. She waits with Jon, and though there's a slight fluttering in her stomach, she's not terrified like she had been right before the haunted house. Jon keeps his word and as they climb onto the open-topped wagon, he lets her sit in the middle and he takes the outside so she won't have to deal with the actors that run up to them during the ride. She settles into the hay and, without thinking, leans her head on his shoulder, arm still linked through his.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Robb and Theon shouldn't have made you do this,” Jon says back and his voice sounds a bit shaky. She can't see his face, she's too comfortable resting her head against him to look up, but she wonders why he sounds nervous. Maybe he's more scared of all of this than he was letting on? He hadn't seemed nervous at all in the haunted house.

“Don't worry, I'm going to have so much fun giving them a full face of glam makeup when it's time to make the video for my channel.” That's the point of this collab – she does a video for their channel and they do one for hers.

Jon lets out a soft laugh as the tractor starts up and the wagon lurches forward, heading into the dark forest. “Can I watch?”

“Definitely,” she says as she squeezes his arm tighter, her heart jumping at a noise off in the woods – a signal that the scares are about to start. “You should let me do your makeup,” she continues to try and distract herself. “I think glam makeup would look amazing with your beard.”

“Sure,” she can feel his shoulder lift into a shrug, and that does make her lift her head up and look at him.

“You would? I thought you hated being on camera?”

He shrugs again, but whatever response he was going to give is cut off as an actor takes a running leap at the wagon, latching onto the side and pulling himself up, and the passenger nearest to him (right in front of Jon) screams. Sansa sucks in a breath and tries to calm her racing heart (and out of the corner of her eye, she sees Dacey with a camera pointed right at her and Jon, a smirk on her face).

She spends the rest of the ride (and all through the haunted corn maze), hanging onto Jon for dear life and she swears his calm presence is the only reason she survives.

(And when she finally gets home to her little apartment and gets into bed, she tries desperately not to think too hard about why that is. She tries not to analyze the safety she felt with him or the way her heart had been fluttering during the car ride home, sitting in Robb's back seat and staring at Jon's profile illuminated by moonlight in the front seat as he and Robb talked and joked around. She tries not to obsess about the way he'd told her to call him if she ever wanted him to be in one of her videos, tries not to read too much into the look Robb had given Jon when he said it.)

(She tells herself that the reason she can't sleep that night is because of the haunted house.)

(It's definitely not because of Jon.)

#ask #prompt fic #jonsa #jonsa fic #spooky season baby #we're starting early #though really #does spooky season ever end?

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 4 years ago

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Hello thereee!! I hope i could participate in your event:

Kuroo

-A timer for when they shall first meet

Fluff

Most importantly, CONGRATS ON 100! 🎊🤍

I am so sorry for how long this took me lovely lil anon, ya know, I am but a fool and just could not brain the words for this. Ugh, I do love Kuroo but the struggle is real.

Thank you for participating!!!!

----

“You are a brat.” Akaashi mumbled to himself. You couldn’t even be mad at him, because he was right. The only reason he was saying this to you now was because you had previously been a brat - that was why you were sitting next to him and Koutarou on a coach to their Summer training camp, happily swinging your legs.

You were just bored, finished all your Summer homework and had nothing else to do. So, like any normal younger sister would do, you asked Kou if you could tag along to his camp under the promise that you’d do some managing. He hesitated, and then you said something that sold him on the idea.

“Well, it would be really nice to have the number one ace in all of Japan teach me how to play volleyball.” You sighed, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.

“Sakusa isn’t going to be there though.” His hair deflated a little, looking at you with wide eyes.

“But Kou,” you said, meeting his eyes. This was your hook, line and sinker. One of these days, he’d figure out your trick. But that day wasn’t today, “you’ll always be the number one ace in my eyes.”

“I know.” You glanced down at the time on your wrist; your eyes widened a little. When had it gotten so close to the time? It was so easy to forget about the clock on your wrist - slowly counting down to when you’ll meet your soulmate - that when you did finally pay attention to it, it was quite jarring. “2 days.” You mumbled to yourself - but Kou heard it, because of course he did.

“Maybe you’ll get to meet your soulmate at the camp!” He called out, wrapping an arm around you.

In your opinion, Akaashi was the reason where Kou was the chaos. It was no wonder that people thought you’d get along with your brother’s second year counterpart better. Alas, you didn’t. According to him, you schemed too much, a little too sly. How you and Kou turned out so different was always beyond everyone.

Akaashi quipped, “I wonder who the unlucky soul will be.” And you could only laugh. He was right, as much as you hated to admit it.

----

Being a manager wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Well, you didn’t really have to do half as much work as you thought you were going to have to do (Fukurodani does have two managers, after all). You mainly just helped out here and there with whatever some teams needed, focusing more on helping out in the kitchen.

Yukie and Kaori - they’d insisted you call them their first names - maybe, it was because you were Koutarou’s sister - started training you in how to be a manager. They didn’t stop, not even when you insisted you weren’t here to actually do anything helpful. They only briefly let up when Shimizu - a manager from Karasuno - said she had some other work for you.

That other work was only delivering melon to the teams, but you’d take that work over being taught how to be a manager any day of the week.

“Thank you.” You beamed up at the older girl. She smiled back down at you as you walked into the gym.

You were too busy being distracted by her smile that you didn’t hear the yelling of two boys, not until Shimizu pulled you to the ground by the back of your shirt. Two boys leapt over you and rolled gracefully - almost like they’d done this too many times.

Miraculously, the watermelon survived the fall.

Koutarou was at your side quickly, “Y/N, are you okay?” He almost looked like he’d cry, but you shrugged him off and sat up.

“Maybe whiplash, maybe a concussion, maybe death.” You said, rubbing your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out.”

As you were pulled to your feet, you heard them talking about you. “Woah, Bokuto, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” One of the two boys said. You inwardly snickered because, despite everything, Koutarou didn’t have a girlfriend. Volleyball was his one true love right now. That and he was staying dedicated to his future soulmate.

“No!” Kutarou called out, starting his spiel about how he isn’t going to date before his soulmate arrives, and whatever. You’d heard it too many times to care. Though he did abandon your side so that left Akaashi to help you to your feet.

You mumbled out a thank you to him, barely managing to regain your balance.

“She’s your sister?” Someone squealed, and they turned their attention to you.

“Yep, Bokuto Y/N.” Kou wrapped an arm around your shoulders, snatching a piece of watermelon from the plate you held.

They all looked at you for confirmation and you unravelled yourself from your brother's grasp. “Yep.” You said, turning away from them.

In the corner of your eye, you saw the time on your clock countdown from 5.

You were frozen in place. Not out of excitement, or fear, or anything. Just because it was a little shocking.

Maybe in some other timeline you were jumping with joy but, unlike Kou, you didn’t have any feelings either way towards your future soulmate. There wasn’t any denial to meet them, or any sort of pure love. In fact, you’d rather your soulmate got to experience life before they decided to stay with you. You didn’t want to hold them back from their dreams, whoever they may be.

Of course, there was still that twinkle of excitement. It was only natural, you were going to see your soulmate, who wouldn’t be excited?

In perfect time, you looked up and met eyes with a black haired boy wearing the Nekoma uniform. He was standing next to Kenma - who you had met two days prior - his eyes met yours and you could see the wave of emotions in his face. It was almost funny to watch. Soon, your expression shifted from amazement (not because he was attractive, although you wouldn’t deny that) to pure amusement.

Only Akaashi had noticed this moment, and he was smirking. You didn’t even need to face ehim fully to see that. Kenma was sharing a smirk too, so you could only assume he had realised this.

“Hey, Koutarou.” You tapped on your brother's shoulder, making sure you had his full attention before you pointed at the boy whose hair resembled that of a rooster - he started walking over, so you hoped he would be in ear shot.

“What’s up.” He whipped his head around to you. As funny as the sight was you needed to keep a straight face.

“Who is that?” Koutarou looked at the black haired boy and grinned.

“That is Kuroo Tetsuro.” He said just as the boy in question arrived. “Why?” He hummed, looking you directly in the eyes with a look that would have been terrifying to anyone else. “Is my baby sister in love at first sight?” He gushed, squeezing your cheeks a little too hard.

You shoved him off and rubbed your cheeks. “No,” you said bluntly, “he’s my soulmate. He’s got weird hair though, but I guess we can work on that.” You shrugged, eyeing him up. “They made hair gel for a reason.” Koutarou was shocked, to say the least, but Akaashi was pulling him away before he could tackle you for answers.

Kuroo looked down at Kenma with a shocked expression, the younger boy only turning his attention back to his PsP.

“You’re a little young to be my soulmate.” Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck.

“Who said we had to start dating now?” You asked, glaring lightly.

He cleared his throat and nodded slowly. Then he flashed you a smirk and you instinctively rolled your eyes, “I thought you’d fall for me ‘cause of my looks, ya know?” A little cocky, but that was fine.

You snorted and covered your face, trying not to laugh directly in his face - it really was a struggle. “As if,” waving him off, “have you seen Kou’s friends? I’m used to being surrounded by hot guys. I don’t really care what you look like.”

You weren’t a hopeless romantic, and you’d come to find out that neither was he. And sure, you didn’t start dating the moment you met each other like most soulmates do, but you were content with being friends for a while. Slowly, when you were both older, more settled, less reckless, you decided to take the next step. Sure, you weren’t perfect, but neither was he. You loved him nonetheless, and he loved you.

----

General Taglist:

@pies-writes-and-more @satan-ruler-of-hells @dekuspet @samkysnks @lucyheartfilias-wife

If you wanted to be added to the taglist, send me a DM or an ask :D

#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #thisnoodlewrites #haikyuu fluff #kuroo testuro #hq kuroo #kuroo x reader #soulmates #hq x reader #hq writing #fluff

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acloudofsparklingdust · 4 years ago

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I was also raised 7th day Adventist and I’m a closeted lesbian. I don’t hate my religion..because I personally didn’t have a bad experience with it in my childhood, but it clashes a lot with my beliefs and well parts of my identity. I’m feeling a bit helpless because this religion has been a big part of my life, a lot of strong women I look up to in my life are sda, and my local sda community is very wholesome. And by now you can sense my reluctance in letting it go. I’ve been coping by thinking I should find a gay-friendly sda church once I move out.. if I ever get married. What’s your journey been like? 🪴

Hey! I don't meet a lot of sda online, it's interesting to hear a different perspective. I'm gonna go into everything, bc my experiences with sda really shaped me, and yeah, it's been a wild, not so fun ride.

Basically I was baptized catholic as an infant, but my family isn't practicing catholic. My mom is very religious, and wanted me to have a good education... In Brazil, we have very poor public education in primary and secondary school, and the best schools are the private ones... Which are also religious schools. So I wound up studying in a sda school from kindergarten to highschool graduation.

So from a young age (4 yo) I was raised on my school's religious beliefs. I was really involved, and my childhood best friend was also sda, she lived a couple floors down from me and we'd hang out often, and her family would bring me to church on Saturdays (there was a sda church across the street from the apartments we lived in). I was the staple Christian child, I prayed every night and every morning, apart from all the prayer at school ofc. At 8yo they did a talk at school about the importance of baptism, and I asked my parents to allow me to be baptized as sda. My mom surprisingly didn't want me to be baptized again, not so young, but my dad said I should do what I wanted, so I was baptized again at the school's church. Literally the school had an auditorium for our weekly religion-related classes, which we called "chapel", and was basically like going to church – but mandatory, as it was during school time. This specific school also had a church built on the side, so yeah.

During my early childhood through preteen years I had no issues with the school's teachings and sda ideology. It was all I had ever known, my family encouraged religion and we'd also sometimes (rarely) go to catholic church. I honestly didn't even realize people could not believe in god until I was 12/13.

I had never really heard much about being gay, or being anti gay during primary school - I may have forgotten having ever heard it from teachers. I only heard about homophobia from peers, and so I knew that being gay was a bad, evil, gross thing.

When I was around 11/12 we moved to a smaller town, and I started at a smaller Adventist school. I was the only one in my small newly found friend group who was baptized, and moving was very traumatic for me, so I started becoming less active in church. I became severely depressed because of the move and other stuff at home, and turned to the internet for a distraction.

I first heard about atheism from a youtuber, and he was known for his controversial takes (he's pretty nasty, it's only gotten worse with time but anyway). I guess a mixture of depression, becoming a teen, having my rebellious phase, I started researching into it.

My religion teacher (we had "religion" classes, but they should really have been called "7th Day Adventism classes") was much harsher than the one I had at my first school. This was around the time that Twilight was a big deal, and I read those books sooo many times for comfort, I got into Harry Potter etc. Not long after I moved to this school, we had a religion class about how Harry Potter was inspired by the devil. My books were often confiscated during class, even if I had already finished my assignments and was reading quietly, even if they were just on my desk. Being super depressed and introverted, with very few friends, books were my refuge. Having the teachers look down on them and literally say they were devilish and evil really started to shift my view of the religion. I knew these were good books, I loved them. So how could they be evil?

I have a very strong memory of praying and praying once and begging Jesus and god to help me, to give me a sign, because I was terrified of losing my religion, of losing god. All I had learned my whole life was that god is good, god is love etc. How come god wasn't helping me, my family, through some of the worst times? How come I was alone?

At around 12/13 my cousin came out to me as bi, and soon after another cousin came out as gay. I barely fully understood what that meant, and the internet was again where I researched about it. I realized I liked girls at the time, but I never understood you could even be married to a woman, as a woman. Even though I knew I liked and was attracted to girls, I never let myself think too much on it. The school was pretty obvious about how marriage is between a man and a woman, our "sex talk" was a class with our religion teacher. Bio talk was split, the boys left the room so we could learn about female anatomy and stuff, and then the boys had the room, etc. Our religious teacher was very adamant about how one shouldn't have sex before marriage, and marriage was between a man and a woman so...

Honestly the basework they laid was to erase homosexuality. I didn't even grasp that I could be anything but attracted to girls, I didn't realize I could do anything about it.

And then in highschool, I guess bc we were old enough, they finally started being outspoken about their hatred of gay people. There would be snide comments from the Portuguese/Lit teacher, a disgusting talk from the History teacher about how gay men's sexual activity leads to anal incontinence, the Religion teacher saying it was wrong, comparing it to criminality, the school's vice principal giving us a lecture and making sure to hammer in the worst thing anyone could turn out to be was homosexual.

At this point I thought I was okay with my same sex attraction, I thought these things weren't getting under my skin. But then I learned about being trans, and I came to the conclusion that since I was into girls, I couldn't be a woman. I identified as trans from around 15-19. That was internalized misogyny and homophobia, that was me actually letting all the snide little comments settle deep in me, and shape who I was.

Anyway, at around 14 I was done. School was teaching us that bastard kids aren't blessed by god (me and my siblings are all "bastards" as my parents were never married). They told us couples who lived together and we're never married were not blessed by god, and implied they were bound to have issues for their sin.

I was a teenager living in a broken home, my father was emotionally abusive to me and my mother, and honestly at the end of the day I had to choose if I wanted to believe in a god who was supposedly love itself, yet didn't protect me and my young siblings and my mom... Or not believe in god at all.

Leaving the church and coming to terms with not believing in god was one of the toughest times in my life. My depression was in the gutter, I was self harming, I was struggling. I remember thinking of my cousins, whom I was very close with growing up, and knowing they were good people, so how could god not love then? I remember thinking of myself, of all I had done for the church, for god, and wondering how could god not accept me.

For me, the church was poison. I only saw hypocrisy, I saw people who judged each other, who cared more about their own concepts of right and wrong than being mindful of others. I saw my teachers who preached being kind, but ridiculed and laughed at other religions and those who believed them. When I was questioning religion, I always had sooo many questions for my religion teacher and so often she just told me that some questions were too big for us to understand, that only god could fully comprehend himself.

I'm proud to have come out the other side, but I won't lie. The community that church represents does seem so lovely and welcoming. I wanted to be a part of something, and church offered that.

But at the end of the day, there's no space for me, a lesbian, in there. They don't believe gay marriage is okay, they don't condone our "lifestyle". They think this is a choice we're making, and a bad one at that.

The childhood friend I mentioned earlier, who I used to go to church with, actually came out as a lesbian a couple years ago as well. Her sda family is giving her a really hard time. She's left the church, last I heard.

Honestly, my advice would be to find other community. Find community with other lesbians, people who can accept you unconditionally, who can offer you support without small print. That's what I'm trying to do.

I personally am against christianity for a lot of other reasons besides my very negative experiences. Maybe that's not you, and in that case I guess finding a church that is LGB friendly can be the answer. I couldn't judge anyone for choosing to stay, because like I said I really understand how nice it can feel, how it's like you belong in this community, how it can feel like the church is family.

But I really suggest deep soulsearching, because in my experience all they ever did for me was suck all my energy, all my devotion, and spit me out when I was never going to be the heterosexual good girl they expected me to be.

Sorry for the super long answer, I hope this helps some? If you wanna talk more in private you can hit me up through DMs, I'm very willing to listen and talk about it.

#anti religion #sda #august rants #homophobia #lesbophobia #misogyny

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ladyfantasy98 · 4 years ago

Text

Danny Phantom Fanfic Idea -- Danny, Vlad, & Dan (+ Dani!)

I’ve been thinking way too much about Danny Phantom lately. Oh well.

But a story idea that came to me a while ago was a possible Vlad redemption arc. I’m fine he didn’t get one in the show, and it’s a little hard to imagine after how he treated Danielle and all those clones -- but the idea of Old Vlad in The Ultimate Enemy (and even his mini realization in Phantom Planet after Jack flies away) shows that Vlad is capable of realizing and regretting his mistakes and possibly fixing them.

So, the story idea -- Dark Danny/Dan Phantom escapes from the Fenton Thermos and travels to Danny’s current timeline (whether that would be after Phantom Planet I’m not sure, I had mixed feelings about the movie, but anyway) and seeks out Danny and/or Vlad, causing untold destruction in Amity Park.

Danny, in the middle of a battle with Vlad, of course recognizes him immediately and is terrified/infuriated. Once Danny and Dan reveal who he is to Vlad, Vlad is shocked and horrified at what the combination of him and Danny/their ghosts -- something he’s always wanted -- actually is, and begins to question how much he’s let his ghost side influence his schemes and desires (not that I’m excusing Vlad’s own actions or saying he was possessed or anything, but Dan’s existence has given him food for thought)

Eventually, Danny and his friends manage to trap Dan again, probably with Clockwork’s help (who may or may not have been meddling in things...), maybe with Vlad’s. Then he talks with Vlad, revealing to him how his older alternate self regretted his past actions, put aside his hate & lust for Jack and Maddie, and helped Danny fix the timeline. Based on this, Vlad decides he wants to try and be better & have a healthier relationship with Danny.

Which eventually leads this exchange:

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vlad breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. He spoke his next words slowly, carefully, trying to order his thoughts.

“I...I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About myself. Self-reflection, I should say. And I’ve...realized something. Likely the very same thing that my other future alternate self did before he had his change of heart.” Vlad began to pace in front of his desk, not looking at Danny. For his part, the teenager seemed less suspicious; he had extinguished his ecto-rays and his posture was less rigid. He watched Vlad go back and forth, back and forth.

Vlad continued, his voice rising in pitch, “I looked at Dan Phantom, who is, who was, you -- me -- us. I looked at him and I - I saw the truth. The truth that -- me, stripped of my vanity and selfishness and ability to lie to myself -- and you, stripped of all compassion and hope and - and childish innocence -- Well. There was nothing left but hatred. You hated me and I hated myself. That was the truth.”

Vlad stopped his pacing abruptly and spun to face Danny. Full of raw emotion, he cried,

“But I don’t want that to be the truth, Daniel! Danny! I - I - I want to be better! I don’t want that to be my future! I know this is asking for -- for too much, really, but I...if you could...would you...” Vlad trailed off, struggling to get the words out. The back of his neck was wet with sweat -- he hadn’t realized how hot he’d gotten, whether from his pacing or his emotional distress, he couldn’t tell. Danny watched him, arms crossed, an inscrutable expression on his face.

Vlad took another breath to calm himself, and finished weakly,

“Would you give me another chance? To be...good? To truly be your...Uncle Vlad?”

Silence. The hands on the wall clock ticked by slowly, painfully, the only sound in the room. Even with Vlad exerting himself, his and Danny’s breathing, as half-ghosts, was barely perceptible in the quiet room. Danny simply continued to stare at Vlad, his bright blue eyes trained on the older man’s. Vlad’s heart beat painfully -- yet slowly -- in his chest as he awaited an answer.

Eventually Danny sighed. He uncrossed his arms and said, in a quiet voice, “Yeah, I get that. Seeing what you’ve become...learning how your choices changed you for the worse...and seeing that and wanting it to never happen...I get it. I do. Dan did for you what he did for me -- he scared you with what you could become if you don’t change your ways.”

The younger half ghost fell silent once more. Vlad stayed quiet, not wanting to interfere with or influence the other’s thought process.

“I’m not ready to forgive you,” Danny said finally, a thoughtful frown on his face. “And I’m definitely not ready to trust you.”

Vlad nodded, accepting this. But he couldn’t help the hope that sprouted inside him at the unsaid, implied Yet in Danny’s words.

“But...” and here Danny’s gaze softened. His mother’s gentleness and his father’s joyful friendliness, never mind the color, were evident in his eyes. How had Vlad never realized before what a beautiful combination that was? “But you’ve clearly thought about your actions and you’re asking me for a second chance. So...I’m willing to give you one.”

The sprout shot up into a full-grown plant. Vlad let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Th-thank-you, Daniel. Danny. I - you don’t know what that means to -”

Danny held up a finger, cutting Vlad off. “Hold up. Not so fast. I’m not God; I have conditions. I have to make sure you’re not tricking me.”

Vlad sobered up at that. He nodded solemnly. “Yes. Of course. I understand. What are your...conditions?”

“Don’t come near my family,” Danny answered firmly. “No showing up unannounced, no sabotaging airplanes, nothing. I see you around my parents or Jazz, and this...experiment is over. I’ll come to you, you don’t come to us. Understand?”

Vlad nodded again. He had much to make up for to Jack and Maddie as well, but honoring their son’s wishes was the best way to start atoning. “I understand.”

“And don’t you dare do anything or come close to Danielle,” the boy added, practically spitting. His eyes glowed green for a split second, punctuating just how serious he was about that particular condition. “You’ve done far worse to her than to me, and I don’t want you even thinking about her, you got that? If she wants in on this forgiveness/redemption thing, than it’ll have to be her decision. We go at my pace, her pace, not yours. Got it?”

Vlad met the boy’s protective fury with an understanding sympathy, and regret. “Yes. I understand. Anything you need me to do, or not do, and I will listen to you, Danny. I am completely at your mercy. And about your pace, I understand that, too. It’s alright if I do all this and you don’t ever forgive me. I don’t deserve it.”

He sighed, and finally looked away from the boy -- almost a man, really; he would be eighteen soon, never mind all the growing-up he’d done in the past few years as a superhero -- and stared up at the white ceiling.

He could still feel Danny’s eyes on him, however. And when the younger half-ghost cleared his throat, Vlad glanced back at him -- widening his eyes a little at what he saw.

Danny was holding his hand out to him. “Yeah, well, fruitloop...you know what they say. The journey of a hundred miles begins with one step. Or, something like that.”

Vlad smiled and grasped Danny’s offered hand.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

So...yeah. That’s how I imagine a Vlad-redemption-arc would begin.

Whether or not Dark Danny would also get a redemption arc...I don’t know, maybe. Perhaps he could bond with Danielle (who I don’t think existed in Dark Danny’s timeline, because if Vlad took Danny in after his family and friends’ deaths, then there would be no need for a Clone program) over the fact that they both wouldn’t exist without a (unnatural, unequal, immoral, but still) combination of Danny and Vlad.

I’d love to know your thoughts on this! Comment or DM me.

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solitaria-fantasma · 4 years ago

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((Session #5 highlights, GO!))

Our DM admitted to me the night before that this session was going to be “plot and C H A O S” and honestly I am sO excited.

We start off with Matthias telling the party that he’d gone back to the bazaar and stolen a forged ledger. We’re uncovering organized crime today.

Recap: We still need to return Von Trikona’s books, as well as investigate/avenge the death of Clarissa Rose.

There are two new country names on the map - Croyden and Iandow!

New non-country locations listed include: Red Hawk, Caister, Alenwik, Aynor, Leeside, Dewsbary, Peinrith, Farenfros, Veritas, and Westwend.

Also ‘Fwee’ is actually spelled ‘Phwie’ and I need to adjust my notes.

We stumbled across a hungover wizard being harassed by a goblin. I immediately tried to scare it away, and rolled REALLY high intimidation.

“The goblin is intimidated af, and fucks off into the wilds.”

The wizard - Renaldo Ladboy - admitted that he’d ‘partied too hard’ the night before, and didn’t remember WHY he’d pitched his camp out in the woods.

Renaldo perks up when he hears that we are travelers, and heading in the same direction he is. He offers to take us there, but since a teleport spell has a limit on how many it can carry, and we are five people + five horses, he basically wants to put us in a Bag of Holding.

I imagined Renaldo pulling Udaji out by her horns and burst out laughing bc she’s sEVEN FEET TALL IT’D BE LIKE THE ENDLESS HANDKERCHIEF TRICK BUT WITH A BARD-

“Get in the fucking bag, Mountain!”

“What was the price of your freedom?”/”A Pringle.”

The interior of a Bag of Holding is - in the DM’s words - ‘a dumpster fire’. There’s everything from random treasure to books to laundry just thrown about in piles....and also there’s another person.

This is Helena (played by the DM’s mom), and she has been in here for a long time, apparently.

There is also Theo, a mysterious voice hidden in the laundry. They warn us to be wary of ‘skittering sounds’, and to hide when we hear them.

I think we were tricked.

Matthias knelt down specifically to slap Claus, who had rolled the highest on the insight check and found nothing suspicious.

Theo came out of hiding to once more warn us to be careful what we touched, and be wary of ‘the Guardians’.

Theo has been in here too long, though, and has a very small reservoir of spoons, so after this final warning, he disappeared back into hiding.

It is DEAFENINGLY quiet inside the Bag of Holding.

Udaji nervously strummed her lute, and the echo took a long time to come back…..and then we heard a flutter.

While Matthias tried to loot some potions and Mountain tried to take a nap, I strummed again to try and recreate the flutter….and I heard more fluttering. It was loud enough to actually wake up Mountain.

Udaji immediately ran off to investigate one of the sources of the fluttering, and then the fluttering turned into skittering. Oh no.

“Udaji, roll for initiative.”

I roared into the darkness and managed to intimidate away one of the gargoyles that were stalking me.

I also apparently terrified Theo with my ‘I Am A Mighty Dragon’ roar. Whoops.

I shouted back to the party “I FOUND THE SKITTERING THINGS!” and retreated one square, but Udaji is simultaneously too stubborn to completely run away and too afraid to run off into the darkness (again).

I TOOK “ZONE OF TRUTH” AS A SPELL LAST LEVEL UP I COULD HAVE CAST IT ON RENALDO-

Helena temporarily lit up our little corner of Hell, and I cast Heroism on Mountain because I have no ranged weaponry/spells.

Mountain could gain a max of 40 temporary hp from this spell if A) he doesn’t get hit and B) I don’t get hit and lose concentration.

Aaaaand one gargoyle promptly flew 60 feet and bit me, shattering my concentration. Heck.

Mountain tried to do a trick shot with his bow and accidentally shot Matthias.

Gargoyle #1 tried to bite Claus, but missed because Claus was too short for it to hit.

I desperately want to test out my Earth Tremor spell but my teammates are tOO CLOSE-

Honestly sessions with the DM’s mom are always a little bit awkward bc it sometimes becomes the mom and three sisters arguing and me just sitting there in awkward silence but I know she means well.

Theo ran up and hit behind the Dragonborn for safety when a THIRD gargoyle came out of hiding. This may prove to be a mistake

Gargoyle #1 hit Claus and I’m starting to wish I’d made Udaji a barbarian bECAUSE I’M READY TO RAGE-

All anger aside I’m actually having a very hard time not envisioning these gargoyles as THE Gargoyles from the Disney show, and I feel bad every time I stab them.

THEO KNOWS DIVINE SMITE?!

“It’s a very, very high pile of laundry, so we’re going to classify it as difficult terrain.”

I lost almost half my hit points in one turn and then got healed half of THAT back in the next what a roller coaster.

I FINALLY GOT TO USE EARTH TREMOR AND KNOCKED GARGOYLE #1 PRONE!

Two gargoyles down, one to go!

Helena coming in with the killing blow on gargoyle #1!

With the battle over, Helena picked up some of the gold off the ground.

Poor Theo was being harassed by those three gargoyles for at least a month, maybe more (it’s hard to keep track of time in a dark, sunless void).

Theo admits that he got tricked into entering the bag after getting injured fighting ghouls, and the wizard came along and offered to carry him to safety.

Renaldo has now kidnapped seven people with his Bag of Holding, and has four people lined up to punch him (the other three advocate for murder).

Theo gives us a much clearer warning now about ‘the Guardians’ - two suits of armor that guard Renaldo’s stuff, and attack people who try to steal it.

Matthias immediately disappears to try and steal things.

Udaji sat down and started filling the silence with lute music because she is realizing that she does NOT like this kind of heavy silence.

Astrid stole a few potions, and Mountain realized we could switch out our suspicious, fake gold for real gold.

Theo watched us in visible confusion as we poured gold out onto the ground, only to then pick up equal amounts of seemingly identical gold.

“This man has kidnapped seven people! Seven people and presumably five horses!”

Astrid has a crush on Mountain, and tries to snuggle up to him, but Matthias literally flung himself between them in protest, so Astrid snuggled up with Udaji instead.

We took a long rest, and at the end of it, Renaldo actually remembered to pull us all out.

The only reason he remembered was because he’d teleported with our party’s horses, and landed surrounded by equines.

Theo punched him square in the nose.

“Claus is old enough to drink, but Udaji is not. Do not let the Dragonborn order beer.”

We hadn’t eaten in two and a half days, so we all ordered double meals and chowed down.

While eating on the mostly empty inn floor, we overhear two women whispering across the floor.

Eventually, one of the women raises her voice and says “We are not having this discussion! You are marrying Hassan, and that’s final!”

Marrying the Lord who was supposedly betrothed to the young Lady Rose? So soon? How scandalous…

Matthias sidled up to try and talk to them, and finds out that they are, in fact, talking about the same Lord Hassan who was betrothed to Clarissa Rose.

The older woman demanded to know how we knew of this supposed ‘other prospect’, and Matthias lied - saying that we had been hired by Clarissa’s mother to retrieve her daughter’s body.

This, predictably, did not endear him to the two women, so Astrid had to saunter over and try to assist.

The women are Amelia (younger) and Charlotte (older) Ulsten.

They asked when this previous engagement had been made, and we said that it had been a month. Charlotte got very pale and very still, and Amelia immediately told her “I told you something was wrong!”

Charlotte tells us that they had received the marriage proposal around the same time.

Matthias asked if they had heard the rumors of ‘accidents’ and stolen dowries. They said no.

The two women were traveling from Westwend, in Croyden.

“Charlotte sort of blubbers, like a Karen who’s been confronted by a manager and isn’t getting her free Frostie from Wendy’s.”

I traded places with Matthias to try and smooth things over, and Amelia - who has never seen a Dragonborn before - can’t stop staring.

Charlotte unbristled, and explained that they hadn’t heard of Lord Hassan before the proposal, so they’d hired a private investigator to look into him.

Their PI found that Lord Hassan WAS a legitimate bachelor and Lord in Kenkilly, but they hadn’t heard of this potential scam.

“But we DO have guards!”/”So did Miss Rose…”

Amelia begs her mother not to make her see this through, and Charlotte agrees that this scenario is too weird for her, and that they will seek a marriage prospect elsewhere.

Matthias speed-ate all his cake purely to avoid sharing with anyone.

Astrid gave her father puppy eyes, and he eventually caved, and bought her a slice of cake.

Amelia was still staring at Udaji as everyone settled back down to finish eating.

Claus and Astrid may or may not be leaving the party for a time bc the DM doesn’t want to end up playing too many NPCs, and while I understand that, I am going to dearly miss my best halfling friend and only female companion.

#OOC #Quarantine D&D

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bitsandbobsandstuff · 6 years ago

Text

A love that never leaves (4)

Summary: Sometimes when you go looking for the past, you find things you never expected. When an accident brings him face to face with something he never knew he lost, Bucky Barnes begins to understand an age old truth – it’s so easy, sometimes, to love the things that destroy us.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. The word rape is said, but only in confusion (nothing ever happens).

A/N: Bucky thinks he fucked up, but she talks him down. Also he loves comfort food and hates stitches and I agree with both those feelings. They learn a little more about each other including a BIG discovery at the end. I’m very hungry after writing this and you’ll see why (diets are stupid).

Tags are open, if you want on the list please send me a DM or ASK, it’s easier for me to track. Otherwise you can find the new updates each weekend!

MASTERLIST ALTNL MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Previously...

Cold. Always so god damn cold.

The sticky feel of him drying on her thighs is the only indication he was ever more than a dream. Hopeless tears fill her throat and after all this time, she wonders how there are still any left in her body.

It doesn’t matter.

They arrive like a tidal wave, breaking over her, destroying everything in their path and dragging her under.

*****

MISSION REPORT

NEW OBJECTIVE IDENTIFIED. RECONNAISSANCE REQUIRED TO DETERMINE APPROPRIATE COURSE OF ACTION. OBSERVATION WILL CONTINUE FROM A SAFE DISTANCE.

Was this it then? How could it be possible, after all these years? He just wants answers. Something to clarify the jagged outline of the puzzle plaguing him night and fucking day.

Balancing the notebook on his knees, he grips the pencil so tight, the sharp point of lead snaps and goes spinning across the page.

*****

Sometimes when it happens, it’s like running face first into a brick wall.

The outline was there in his brain, a lost memory he never knew he needed to find. Now, with the story she offers, the paintbrush in his head goes crazy, spilling out the colors of an icy, destructive night in Paris. Memories return, a blizzard of blurry faces and voices crackling like radio static.

Black-gloved fingers moving effortlessly over ivory keys. 10, 9, 8. Sparkling people and fizzy champagne. 7, 6, 5. Excited screaming. 4, 3, 2. Beautiful eyes, watching him from across the room. 1. Confetti and balloons bouncing. Screaming. Screaming. More screaming. Terrified screaming. Blood on his fingers, soaking into crisp white cuffs. Slipping like a shadow from a locked room. Stalking through the streets of Paris, heading back to base, until, until, until. The detour. Green paint on her walls, an open window with fluttering curtains. A trembling body dressed in satin and lace. Pleasure. Force. Rough hands, rough words. The feel of her clinging to him like he meant something. Like she wanted him. Heat licking up his spine, heat between her legs, heat in her mouth. And then tears. Sadness. Disappointment. Always, disappointment.

He remains frozen in shock, until he finds his voice. He jumps to his feet.

“Jesus,” he chokes out. He drags shaking hands through his hair and the wild tangles snag around his fingers. “Jesus. Did I - I raped you? Oh, my fucking god, fuck. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t – ”

He falls mute. The apology sits heavy on his tongue and he wants to apologize for an eternity, but this is not for him to be upset. He’s not owed the relief of tears: those are reserved for victims, not criminals. Instead, he remains silent, awaiting the condemnation he deserves.

But to his disbelief, it doesn’t come.

“No! God, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” and now she stands up, trying to assuage his horror. “You didn’t, that’s not what happened.”

“Sure sounds like it was,” Bucky grits out. His hands are clenched at his sides and a faint whirring creeps from his arm when it recalibrates, a physical representation of his panic.

“No,” she repeats forcefully. “Listen to me. That is not what happened. You didn’t, you don’t understand, I wanted – ”

She stops in frustrated confusion.

“Still, I – “

“Bu – sorry, Soldier – “

Apologies collide, and both fall silent. Bucky tries first and his voice is quiet.

“Bucky. Please. My name is Bucky.”

Wetting her lips nervously, she tests the syllables on her tongue.

“Bucky,” she begins, embarrassed. “Listen to me. I hadn’t been with anyone that way for a long time. I wanted - that. I wanted you. That night, I wanted you.”

Bucky stuffs his hands in the pockets of the sweatpants and stares at his socks. They don’t match, and he wonders fleetingly where all the socks in his dryer go. He wiggles his toes as he thinks.

“That night, you were waiting for someone else though – you thought I was someone else. Jimmy.”

He looks up and sees the wind of his words blow the light from her eyes. When she speaks, her voice is tired. “I did. I thought, I hoped, maybe I would see him, but – he didn’t come.”

The look on her face speaks of a loss so devastating, it steals his breath. “Oh,” he finally says. He has nothing else to offer.

Considering the checkered past they apparently share - and he knows it’s all true, the memories are back again, slotted back into the space from where they were previously wiped - Bucky doesn’t understand why she hasn’t thrown his ass out the door. He’s grateful for the reprieve. Undeserving, but grateful. Inflicting his presence on her any longer though, seems selfish.

“I should go,” he says heavily. “Thank you. For saving my ass. For cleaning me up. I didn’t deserve it. I’ll get my stuff and go.”

He takes one step and black spots explode in front of him. Grasping the edge of the couch, he stumbles, and she reaches for him. Leaning clumsily into her, he grunts at the bursts of pain flooding from the wounds in his chest.

“No,” she says. “Those two bullets nearly hit your heart. I don’t even understand how you’re walking right now, but you’re not going anywhere until you’ve fully healed. Please.”

“Really, I’m fine - ”

“Really, you are not,” she interrupts, steel-edged voice brooking no argument. “Stay. I insist. Get some sleep, let yourself heal. Then you can head back.” She hesitates, before the next sentence. “The world can wait, Bucky.”

Something in her tone makes him pause. It feels important, like there’s more to this exchange than meets the eye. Bucky feels the age-old desire to wrack his brain hit him hard.

“Okay,” he mutters, looking down. “If it’s really not a problem - I’ll stay. Just a few days. I, uh, I heal pretty quick.”

“Yes, I thought you might,” she murmurs, letting go of him.

Bucky waits for his vision clear, fiddling with the hair tie around his wrist and snapping it a few times to ground himself. “Once I’m not totally useless though, you gotta let me earn my keep. I’m not lying in bed all damn day.”

“Okay,” she agrees. “If you get up to bed and stay there, I’ll find some things for you to do when you feel better.”

“Helpful things?” Bucky clarifies.

“Yes, helpful things. I promise. Now go back to bed. I didn’t spend all that time stitching you closed so you could rip it all open and bleed on my floors.”

“Alright,” he agrees, giving her a small smile.

There’s that peculiar longing in her voice when she speaks again, the same as he remembered when she found him in the snow and her words brand him in the oddest way.

“Stay as long as you want. It’s nice to have someone around, no one ever comes up here.”

Bucky nods his thanks and shuffles slowly toward the stairs. As he walks, he thinks he hears her whisper his name, but it must be the wind blowing outside.

*****

The odds of Steve flipping his shit when Bucky calls are high. Toying with his phone, Bucky grimaces before he punches the STEVIE G button and waits. Blinking little dots fill his screen, and when it connects, he sees a big forehead and snarls of damp blond hair.

“Hey man. How was it?”

The phone shifts and Steve’s whole face comes into view. He’s eating Skippy peanut butter straight from the jar.

“You were eating that last time I called,” Bucky responds. “You ever gonna do anything useful, or just sit around in your underwear?”

Steve scoops a huge blob and stuffs the spoon defiantly in his mouth. “It’s a new jar,” he mumbles defensively.

“Lazy little shit,” Bucky adds, grinning.

“Okay, time for you to fuck off,” Steve replies, now washing it down with milk straight from a carton with TONY written down the side in black sharpie. “How was it? Find anything?”

“It was fine. Another false alarm.”

“Great. Headed back soon then?”

Bucky chews the inside of his cheek and looks away. “Yeah, about that. So, I may have run into some issues – ”

Milk splashes on the table when Steve bangs the carton down. “What’d you do?”

“Well hell, Rogers, I’m kinda offended. Why do you always assume it’s me?”

Steve snorts like an irritated bull and rolls his eyes. “Because. Have you met you?”

“That’s fair, but this time it wasn’t me. I swear. I was heading back to the hotel and ran into this guy, some Hydra asshat asking if I’d set off the distress signal at the base. Anyway, he’s pretty dead now, but the fucker hit me with a couple gunshots and – ”

“Hit you with a couple what?” Bucky’s always surprised Steve’s voice can hit that high note - it sounds a like he’s taken a kick in the balls. Bucky ignores it and keeps talking.

“– and I’m fine, Steve. It’s fixed, I’m all good, I just want a few days to recover, so I’m staying a little longer.”

Steve’s already stomping into his room and throwing open his closet. Yanking an army green canvas duffel from the top shelf, he throws it on the bed and starts digging through his underwear drawer. Bucky sees a handful of demure blue boxers and one pair with neon pink Captain America shields go flying into the bag while Steve mumbles to himself.

“Steve. Steve. Rogers, listen,” but Steve just plows along, ignoring Bucky and muttering about the shortest flight paths and weather reports and meetings to reschedule and all of a sudden, Bucky panics. Pulling the rip cord, he shouts a single word.

“Kit-Kat!”

Steve freezes.

For good reason.

Years ago, when Bucky was mired in a particularly crappy depressive episode, he decided to make a blanket fort in his room. He stayed huddled in the retreat for a solid week, grudgingly emerging only to scrounge up food and get fresh batteries when his TV remote went dead. It was in the middle of the night, while he was watching ‘Twilight Zone’ reruns, that Steve crept into the room and sat beside him. No words were spoken, he simply hugged his knees to his chest and sat in silence.

During a break, a Kit-Kat commercial came on. The click and snap of the candy bar and the merry little tune of ‘give me a break, give me a break’ squeaked quietly from the TV and Bucky’s voice was groggy when he spoke.

“This is really hard. Sometimes, I just – I need a break.”

Steve hummed his agreement and through the thick blankets, Bucky felt the comforting pressure of Steve’s hand on his shoulder. “I know. How about you and me make a deal? If things get to be too much and we need a real break, where you just get to be alone, no questions asked – we say that. Say Kit-Kat and everyone’ll back off. It’ll be like a safeword. Okay?”

The pile of blankets is silent, but a minute later Steve hears Bucky’s voice whisper. “Okay.”

“But you can’t use it often,” Steve says firmly. “This is only for the big ones. You only get to use it when you really need it. Deal?”

The ‘Twilight Zone’ theme song buzzes from the TV, playing through the entire refrain, before Bucky’s hand slowly emerges from the pile. He holds it in the air and waits. Steve grips his fingers to shake and without thinking, unconscious movements walk them through the stupid super-secret handshake they created in 1927.

Bucky still wonders how the hell his body remembers these things, when his broken brain couldn’t recall his own name for decades. Steve reminds him some things are like that.

Muscle memory. Some things just stick.

The pact is binding. Rarely used, but unbreakable when granted. Since their agreement, Bucky’s used it twice and Steve’s tried it once. Now, Bucky watches Steve’s jaw working, peanut butter smudged in the corner of his mouth, and he knows Steve wants to argue.

But a promise is a promise.

Steve drops the duffel bag with a muffled thump.

“Alright. But you better fuckin’ call if you need something. None of this ‘I can get by on my own’ bullshit. Understood?”

“Hey man, that line was all you, not me,” Bucky reminds him and Steve grunts irritably. “But yeah, ‘course I will. Thanks buddy.”

Before he hangs up, he gives the phone a mocking salute and a wide smile. Steve rolls his eyes and flips him off, very pointedly pushing the end call button.

Silence surrounds him and his smile fades as he looks around the room. Exhaustion fills him then and his limbs feel like lead. Collapsing onto the bed, he buries his face in her pillow and closes his eyes.

*****

He sleeps for 48 straight hours.

He gets up a few times and stumbles to the bathroom, eyes half closed and leaning against the wall because he can barely keep his balance, but otherwise he’s out cold. The gnarled fingers of the nightmares always strangling him slither up his neck, searching for purchase, but they’re rebuffed. Again and again and again, they bay for his blood, but for some unknown reason they’re pushed away.

What a god damn relief.

*****

It’s late morning on the third day, when the sound of his stomach growling kicks him awake. Huffing out a soft whine as he stretches, he rubs the grit from his eyes and lifts the blanket. Tugging gently at the tape around his bandage, he sees splotches of green and yellow bruising around the area, and finds two wounds that look weeks old, scabby and starting to itch.

“Good morning,” he hears and looks up to find her standing in the doorway with a purple mug of coffee.

“H-,” he croaks, voice rusty with disuse, and he clears his throat and tries again. “Sorry. Hey. Good morning.”

She walks slowly toward the bed, as if not to spook him. Bucky tries to smile, wincing just slightly as he struggles to sit up. Extending the mug, he accepts it gratefully and takes a long drink.

“Damn, that’s amazing. Thank you.”

Returning his easy smile, she motions to the wound and holds up a small scissors. “I can take those stitches out, if you want. Unless you’d prefer to do it yourself.”

Letting an unknown person near him with a pair of scissors seems like less than intelligent behavior, but Bucky’s never been a fan of stitches – putting them in or taking them out. Broken bones, concussions, burns, those are no problem. But anything that includes sewing human flesh together? That’s at the top of his nope scale.

“God yeah. Please.” He throws the blankets aside and swings his legs over the edge of the bed looking up at her. “How do you, um…how do you want me?”

“That’s fine, just sit up straight and, um, if you can – lift up your shirt?” Bucky nods and pulls up his t-shirt, removing his right arm and then hesitating. He ends up with it half-way on, keeping his left arm and the thick red scars around his shoulder, hidden from view. Clearing his throat, he looks into his lap and waits.

Kneeling between his legs, her fingers are freezing when they touch his skin and he flinches slightly.

“Sorry,” she murmurs apologetically, pulling away and rubbing her hands on her thighs. “My hands are always cold.”

“S’okay, just surprised me,” Bucky replies quietly. She glances up with a fleeting smile and goes back to work.

For the strangest reason, he feels himself begin to blush. Which makes no sense, because how many times has he been buck-ass naked in front of doctors and never batted an eye. But now, he swallows self-consciously and maybe he sucks in his stomach and flexes just a little, because for some wild reason, he cares what she thinks.

Which makes no god damn sense.

She doesn’t seem to notice though, tongue between her teeth while she snips carefully at the threads and tugs them loose. Once they’re gone, she squeezes a bit of ointment on, rubbing her thumb gently over the scab, and puts a clean bandage in place.

When she’s finished, she looks up to find him staring awkwardly down, his face flushed a splotchy red.

“Are you okay? Do you feel warm?” She reaches a cool hand to his forehead and Bucky gets flustered.

“No, no,” he says hastily, and he nearly tumbles off the bed when he ducks away. “I’m great. Fit as a fiddle. It’s just the fire, kinda hot in here, and you have lots of blankets and they’re so fluffy, and I’m, yeah. Whew! Hot stuff. Anyway.”

Bucky wants to sink into the floorboards. Hot stuff? What the hell was that?! he groans internally. Have you ever even talked to a woman? Get your shit together you fucking moron!

His verbal stupidity surprises her, but thank god she ignores it. Standing up, she crumples the used bandages.

“If you’re tired, you should keep sleeping. It’s good for you.”

Bucky shakes his head and adjusts his shirt. “I’ve slept more these past few days than the past two months. Usually have - nightmares and things,” he tucks loose hair behind his ear, frowning at the admission, “but I’ve slept perfect here. No nightmares at all.”

Her eyes light up at his admission. “That’s great. I’m glad.”

“Besides, you deserve your bed back.”

“No, you’re recovering, you need to stay in here – ”

Bucky holds up both hands to stop her. “Yeah, no. You’re not winning this one. If it’s still okay, I’d like to stay a couple more days. Pay you back for helping me. But I’m taking the couch downstairs and if you try to make me sleep in here, I’ll sleep downstairs anyway and this very comfortable bed will go to waste.”

Hands on her hips, she raises her eyebrows, staring him down. Bucky feels momentarily cowed, but he gives just as good, so he folds his arms and stares back.

Finally, her lips twitch and he hears a small laugh. The sound makes his blood sing.

*****

The days tick by.

And it goes like this.

Every morning, she comes downstairs to find him sitting on the couch, blankets perfectly folded into neat squares. He hands her a cup of coffee, asks what he can help with today, and her long list of home improvements begins to shrink.

Every evening, she makes supper and they talk, and Bucky quickly realizes how much he enjoys these evenings. It should bother him, he thinks, to feel so oddly at ease with this woman who’s essentially a stranger. But he finds himself sharing bits of himself, absorbing those pieces of herself she hands over. He relaxes more in a few days of knowing her, than in months of living with his team in New York.

Every night, she tells him to sleep well and she climbs the stairs up to her bedroom. He listens as she gets ready for bed, the quiet path of her footsteps a soothing predictability. When the footsteps go silent, he fluffs out a blanket and gets comfortable on the couch, so he can think.

And all through the night, he dozes in fits and starts, staying awake in the darkness to keep watch over this unknown woman who saved his life.

*****

“It’s just always so damn cold out there. You know what I miss? Soup.”

“Hmmm. Soup would be good. What kind?”

“Um…potato? My Ma makes the best damn potato soup. Warms your bones right up.”

“I have some potatoes left in the cellar. Come over tonight, I’ll give it a try.”

*****

“Can I ask what you were doing up here?” she asks, stirring her soup. Bucky ignores caution and dives right in, chomping into a steaming potato and gasping in pain.

“Damn, this is amazing, I love potato soup. Haven’t had it in years,” he enthuses, fanning his mouth. He swallows the scorching bite and takes a swig of water. “So, there used to be an old Hydra base near here. Been abandoned forever, but one of the old distress signals went off. I came up to investigate.”

Fishing in the liquid for another potato, he captures one and looks up to meet a wide-eyed stare.

“I never knew there was a base around here. Did you find anything?” she asks tightly. Bucky sees her fingers clutch the spoon so hard he’s surprised it doesn’t snap.

“No, nothing. It’s happened before, couple other places. Old bases breaking down, tech sparking out,” he says quickly. “Never anything wrong when we get there. It’s nothing to worry about, I promise. Just Hydra shit finally crapping out. It’s a good thing.”

“You’re sure?”

Bucky hears it in her voice. He’s intimately acquainted with the sound of fear. His spoon clinks when he sets it down and he gives her a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure.”

She’s keeps stirring her soup, thinking. When she asks a question, her voice wavers. “The man I shot. Was he Hydra?”

Bucky knows that sound as well. The uncertainty of someone who was caught in the moment, who fought violence with violence. “Yes. He was there about the signal. Asked if I set it off.”

Looking away, she sees their reflection watching from the living room windows. Her face is thoughtful when she considers.

“I shot someone. And I didn’t think twice.”

The movement is purely unconscious. Bucky couldn’t stop it if he tried.

“Thank you,” he says, clutching her fingers and pouring every drop of sincerity into his voice, “for not thinking twice.”

“You’re welcome,” she says faintly. Her fingers press against his for the briefest moment, before she drags her hand back to her lap.

*****

“You ever think about getting rid of that rooster?”

“Are you trying to murder my birds?”

“No! Oh geez, no.”

“How about this - if he’s still alive next time you visit, I’ll make you fried chicken.”

*****

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she answers, carefully setting fried chicken on a paper towel to cool.

Bucky thinks for a moment and chooses his words carefully. “The last time we met, it was 1969.”

Her shoulders tense, but she nods and avoids his stare. “Yes. It was.”

“You can tell me to fuck off here if you want, but - you don’t look quite old enough for us to know each other then.”

She stays silent, scratching at the edge of the skillet with tongs. He can tell she’s deciding how to answer.

“No. I guess I don’t.” Looking up at him, she sets the utensil in the sink and meets his curious gaze. “I’m – enhanced, I guess. If that’s what they’re calling it these days.”

It makes sense. There must be thousands of enhanced people across the world. So many choose to stay under the radar, uninterested in the circus spectacle that follows anyone who displays even a hint of ability. Bucky thinks of Steve wearing baseball caps all the time, and Wanda dying her hair black and changing her accent, and Bruce avoiding the color green and staying hidden in Tony’s labs all day.

Sometimes being different sucks.

“Got it,” Bucky says. He watches her pick at her chicken and he nudges a little more. “So, you’re enhanced and you…found a good skin cream then?”

She huffs out a laugh.

“That would’ve been nicer. I was born with an ability. It was nothing powerful. Nothing fun,” she says with a trace smile and Bucky feels himself smile in response. “It was passed down in my family. My mother had it, her mother before her. When I was 27, there was an accident. I don’t understand what th – what happened. But here I am.”

Bucky sees the light in her eyes dim, her expression closing off and he desperately wants to keep her talking. He wants to learn more. He wants to learn her.

“Should I assume Hydra was responsible for that accident?” Startled at the comment, she looks up nervously. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I just, when I told you why I was here, you seemed - scared. I know the feeling.”

Swallowing hard, she licks suddenly dry lips. “Yes. They - liked their experiments.”

Bucky gives her a grim smile. “Yeah. They really fuckin’ do, don’t they?” They sit in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, until Bucky’s curiosity gets the best of him. “What’s your ability?”

With those magic words, it ends. Her expression shutters and she retreats into herself.

“I’m sorry. I’m not comfortable talking about it,” she says quietly. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Bucky replies easily, and he means it. He picks the crispy skin from the chicken leg. “I know what it’s like to be different.”

*****

“You made noodles?”

“A long time ago, when we had plenty of flour and butter. They won’t be as good as the ones you had in Italy though.”

“Nah, those were fascist noodles. I bet your noodles taste better.”

“I would hope so.”

*****

“The food here is fantastic,” Bucky says reverently, piling a second helping of spaghetti on his plate. Maybe he should feel self-conscious at the awkward way he slurps the noodles, but it’s so fucking good he doesn’t care.

She forks the noodles and twirls them into a spoon, grinning at him. Bucky marvels briefly at the effortless gesture.

“Well, I try.”

“You succeed.”

Passing him a basket of bread, she stirs the noodles around her bowl.

“Hey Bucky?

“Hmmm?

“What have you been doing? Since you came back?” she asks tentatively.

There’s a question.

What has he been doing? Revenge. Rounding up the arrogant fucks who escaped the first Hydra purge following DC. Avenging. Throwing himself back into fighting, trying to rebuild his tarnished reputation with the good deeds he owes. All are viable answers, but he goes with a more personal truth, the one that keeps him up at nights.

“Trying to figure myself out, I guess. Learn how to be part of a team again. How the world works, when you’re allowed to make your own decisions. Sorting through memories, trying to make them useful. All that good stuff.”

She takes a drink of wine and seems to gather her courage. “And are you - I mean do you – have you been remembering things?”

The question is so hesitant. Bucky wonders wryly if she’s afraid to hurt his feelings, but it doesn’t matter, he can admit when he has no fucking idea what’s going on. Which is most of the time.

“Some,” he says honestly. “Don’t remember anything from before I was captured. Anything I know, it’s stuff Steve’s told me, or stuff I’ve read. Watched a bunch of documentaries about WW2, that was weird, seeing myself on old film reels. No idea why, but I can’t get to any of those memories, they’re just - obliterated. The ones with Hydra though, they’re reappearing. That’s why I volunteer for jobs like this,” he admits, tearing off a hunk of bread. “Keep thinking if I go back to these places, I can figure out who I was back then.”

“Bucky. Why the hell would you do that to yourself?” she asks sternly. Bucky grins at the tone.

“You sound like Steve. Look, I don’t want to know what I did back then. All the shit I’ve done to other people…all the shit that’s been done to me. Fuck that. I don’t want to know, I need to know. Hard to put yourself back together, when you’re missing huge pieces of the puzzle.”

Bucky looks down at his plate, mopping up spaghetti sauce with his bread. She doesn’t say anything else.

*****

The air is crisp and clean the next night, when Bucky steps outside. Standing on the front porch, he pulls a dark blue knit hat low over his ears and sucks a deep breath, reveling in the freshness that fills his lungs. Mountain sunsets are something incredible to behold and he stops to savor it; the craggy horizon painted brilliant red-orange, deep purple hugging from above, crystal white stars gleaming.

It clears his head in an unexpected way. The scents of snow and pine needles and life. He’d forgotten how reviving life in the wilderness could be. Growing up in Brooklyn, spending most of his life now in Manhattan, he wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy guy. And normally, he hates the snow. Spent far too many years being cold to seek it out, but here? Here, it’s not too bad. The sound of the nearby river bubbling through ice, the smell of wood smoke curling in the air, and – well.

And her.

There’s something strangely calming about her. Her voice, her mannerisms. Her cautious smile. The way she hums while she cooks and how she catches her tongue between her teeth when she’s concentrating. Bucky feels an unusual tug in his belly at the thought. It feeds something he hasn’t really considered since he fought his way back to the land of the living and it’s making him reconsider a few things.

He should probably call Steve tonight. Let him know he’s still knee deep in Kit-Kat mode.

Because right now? Bucky really doesn’t want to leave.

Reaching for the tattered broom leaning by the railing, he sweeps away the couple inches of new snow covering the steps and jumps lightly down. Walking back to her little woodshed, he pops a key into the lock connecting the shed doors and eases the creaking wood open. Rummaging for a few minutes, he piles up a massive armful of logs and carries them back to the bin on her front porch. Three times he makes the trip, arranging the pile carefully, filling it to overflowing, so she won’t need to tramp through the snow to get more.

Maybe tomorrow, he’ll make himself useful and cut more. Manual labor, fresh air. The happy thought makes him giddy.

When he finishes, he flips the lock clasp to bolt it again, but something catches his eye. Peering closer, he finds scratches down the side of the lock. Glinting silver, they look new. Bucky narrows his eyes and glances over his shoulder, into the darkness of the trees beyond.

The world is quiet. Not a breath of wind.

It seems odd, but as she said before – no one ever comes up this way. Likely it’s nothing and she mentioned this lock gave her issues, so maybe it was simply past frustration. Fingering the grooves, he makes a mental note to ask her about it, just in case. Trudging back toward the porch, the scent of pancakes reaches his nose and he leaps eagerly up the first step.

He pulls up short.

It happens then. The brick wall appears.

Bucky feels his brain ricochet from the blow. He wasn’t even searching, but it hits like a hammer, pounding the breath from his lungs and the sound of Steve’s voice fills his head.

“Nah, it was in France, about a year before. SHIELD never returned your bag after – well. After. Who the hell knows though, maybe it’s lost in the archives somewhere. Anyway, there were all these letters you had in there from your girl, maybe they’re something you want.”

“My girl?”

“Yeah, you – your girl. Smart. Beautiful. You were, uh…you were just fuckin’ head over heels. She used to write you all these letters, you kept ‘em stuffed in your bag, ‘Dear Jimmy,’ they always started and – ”

“Stop.”

“Buck – ”

“Stop it Steve, I mean it.”

“Alright, alright, you said you wanted to know, I’m just telling you - ”

“Dammit, just - I don’t wanna remember it. Not right now. Can’t fuckin’ handle hearing about someone else I let down.”

Somewhere in the forest, a bird whistles. The sound brings him crashing back to the present.

Dear Jimmy, he thinks.

Bucky stops breathing.

*****

There’s an old jazz song on the radio perched above her sink, and she turns the dial up. Tapping her feet to the brassy beat, she moves through the small kitchen, humming. Pancakes, eggs, bacon. Breakfast at supper. For some reason it’s always a treat, no matter how old you are.

She’s mixing batter when she hears the quiet click of the closing door, and she sets the bowl down and turns to look at him with a grin.

“Look, I know you said you don’t like your pancakes burnt, but I think you should just try – ”

Her voice fades when she sees him. Bucky stands before her, the blue knit cap clenched in his hands. Dark hair sticks in every direction and he pushes it back, trying to coax it smooth, and she sees his fingers tremble. His face is pale and his bright blue eyes watch her closely.

“Bucky? Are you okay?”

He opens his mouth and closes it. Twice. Unable to find the words.

“Are you hurt?” she tries again, wiping her hands on a dish towel and coming forward. “What happened?”

Holding up a hand, he stops her and moves to sit on the edge of an armchair. Chewing his lip for a full minute, he finally finds his voice.

“I have a question. I need you to answer me with the truth.”

“Okay,” she says hesitantly. She moves to the living room and sinks slowly to the chair opposite him. She pinches her lip nervously and Bucky feels his heart spasm. He keeps watching her, willing himself to pull up the correct memories and failing. Finally, he gives up and whispers.

“Am I Jimmy? Were you waiting for me that night?”

Her expression never changes, but he sees her breathe faster, chest rising and falling quickly. The answer is clear. Closing her eyes, she exhales a long breath.

“Yeah. You – yes. Yes. You were, you are – him. You’re Jimmy.” Opening her eyes, he sees them shiny with tears and when she blinks, they spill over. “I was waiting for you that night.”

Silence stretches longer and longer and Bucky finally realizes his lungs are burning. He lets out his breath with rush and leans forward. Elbows on his knees, he tries with everything in his heart, to remember.

“We’d met? Before then? We knew each other?”

She sits up straight, never breaking eye contact. Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she searches for the right words. Bucky feels his heart thump wildly while he waits; her voice is laced with sadness when she speaks.

“The first time we met was in 1944. I was wearing grey and you were wearing blue.”

*****

Next Chapter

*****

Tags are open right now, if you want one, please send me a DM or ASK.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #bucky #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #altnl

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 6 years ago

Text

The Perfect Moment (Chapter 3)

Summary: When Cyrus is assigned to create a modern re-telling of “Romeo and Juliet” for English class, he decides to produce a movie. His stars, however, may pose some trouble. Will he finish his movie on time?

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Thank you!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

The second day of filming passed with no incident and Cyrus grew confident that he would be able to pull this off after all.

So far, they had only filmed mostly basketball scenes, which were the easiest for the whole team to do. Besides, T.J. and Buffy were both completely in their element. There were a few hiccups, due to their chemistry (or lack thereof), but T.J. must have taken Cyrus’ advice since his scenes were going rather well. Buffy still needed a few takes for some of the more “flowery” scenes (her words), but otherwise, it was smooth sailing.

Now, the third day of filming, however, went a little differently.

It started off fine. Everyone showed up on time, dressed and ready. They had studied and knew all their lines and what to do so they had little questions for Cyrus. The props and equipment were all set up, according to his specifications.

And, then, they were ready to film!

“Ready? And… Action!”

The scene was a mock game between the two teams, which was supposed to be the equivalent of Mercutio and Tybalt’s duel. The scene was supposed to end with the Captain of the girls’ team hitting the Captain of the boys’ team with a basketball that injures him and Logan getting angry and shoving her to the ground, which makes Quinn angry, in turn.

The first two takes went well. But, Cyrus was ambitious and wanted a third. He watched with a sharp eye as he moved a bit closer with his camera, zooming in at specific actions.

He was so invested in filming their running feet that all he heard was a “Cyrus, watch out!” before he lifted his head to the voice…

What happened next was a blur. All he knew was excruciating pain marring his face and when he was on his butt on the floor, camera still clutched in one hand as his other hand clutched his nose and tears sprung from his eyes.

“Cyrus! Oh my god!”

A mop of curly hair was beside him in an instant: Buffy. And she looked terrified, which was rare. Buffy was rarely afraid of anything. Was it that bad?

Cyrus tried to talk but all that came out was a groan.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! It was an accident, I swear!” a girl’s voice exclaimed in horror and panic.

Another figure plopped down on the floor beside him. “Underdog! You okay? How many fingers am I holding?”

Cyrus squinted through the tears in his blurry eyes: T.J. He was holding up two blurry fingers.

“Two,” he answered.

There was a breath of relief. “You’re okay.”

“Okay?! He’s bleeding, Kippen!”

That was when Cyrus realized that something warm and wet was dripping from his nose. With a shaky hand, he reached up to touch it and when he looked, his eyes widened in shock. The tips of his fingers were red. That... did not look good.

“Shoot, okay, I’ll take him to the nurse. Driscoll, stay here and take care of things.”

Strong arms firmly wrapped around him, slowly lifting him up to his feet. His vision spun. He was soooo dizzy.

“Are you telling me what to do?!”

“Not now, okay?! Just stay here with everyone else, I got him.”

There was no argument from Buffy after that.

Cyrus’ head was fuzzy but somehow, he managed to walk to the nurse’s office with T.J.’s aid. The taller boy’s fingers were firmly pinching the bridge of Cyrus’ nose and he was glad for the help. He couldn't seem to move his own hands. Was he in shock?

Thankfully, the nurse was still around. She was a nice lady and she knew who Cyrus was, having visited a few times due to an injury from gym class. She took one look at him, declared that he was pale, ushered him in, and made him lie down on one of the beds. As soon as his head hit the pillow, everything turned dark.

...............

Cyrus had fainted. He wasn’t good with blood and T.J. was surprised that he had managed not to pass out until they reached the nurse’s office.

“Prop him up,” said the nurse. “Or the blood will go down his throat.”

Panicked, T.J. quickly did just that. He piled two pillows behind Cyrus, still making sure that he was pinching his nose.

The nurse came back with an ice pack and instructed him to press it up against the bridge of the other boy’s nose.

“What happened?” she asked.

“He got hit by a basketball,” T.J. answered, looking worriedly at Cyrus. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

“Well, I need to see if his nose is broken. We’ll wait until the bleeding and swelling stops and I’ll check. He’ll need to go to a doctor if there’s a slight chance that it is broken, but for now, let's let him rest and I’ll let his parents know what happened.”

With that, the nurse excused herself to make the call.

T.J. turned back to the unconscious Cyrus. Even with blood dripping down his nose, he still looked cute.

Shaking his head for thinking such thoughts while his friend was injured, T.J. settled on the edge of the bed so he could continue pressing the ice pack to the injured nose. He really hoped that his friend would be okay. T.J. couldn’t help but feel guilty that he wasn’t able to save him from that basketball.

So, instead, he would stay by Cyrus’ side until he woke up.

Ten minutes passed and the nurse came back to check on him. Taking away the ice pack, she examined his nose. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped and there was no more swelling.

“It’s not broken, thank goodness,” she said, smiling. She took a damp rag she had brought with her and cleaned Cyrus’ nose. “He’s going to be okay. I’ve informed his parents and his father said he would be here in half an hour to pick him up. You can go now, if you want, Mr. Kippen.”

But, T.J. shook his head. “I’ll stay with him until then. Um, I just need to go back to the gym real quick and let everyone else know what happened. If he wakes up before I’m back, can you let him know I’m coming back?”

“Alright, I’ll be here.”

He helped her move Cyrus down on the bed, placing a pillow under his head and another at his side (because Cyrus once mentioned that he liked cuddling something when he was asleep).

“I’ll be back, okay?” he whispered, as he covered him with a blanket and tucked him in.

Then, T.J. ran to the gym.

.............

His head was fuzzy and his nose was throbbing.

Those were the first things Cyrus felt when he came to.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and closed them again, quickly, when the bright fluorescent lights came to view.

“Hey, you’re awake.”

Opening his eyes again, Cyrus turned his head to see T.J. sitting on a chair next to his bed, looking relieved.

“W-What… happened?” he managed, trying to sit up but failing. “Last thing I remember, you were taking me to the nurse?”

“Yeah… then you fainted.”

“Oh.”

Cyrus blushed in embarrassment. Of course, he did. It explained why he was lying down, blanket up to his chin and a pillow at his side.

“But, the good news is, your nose isn’t broken. And your dad will be here to pick you up soon.” T.J. scooted his chair closer to the bed. “Andi, Buffy, and Jonah were here earlier, but they went back to the gym to help clean up. I told them they can head out when they’re done since I’m staying here with you, but you should text them later so they’re not worried. Oh, and I brought your things.” He pointed to the familiar school bag and stack of books, sitting neatly on another chair opposite the bed Cyrus was on. “I guess it’s safe to say that the shooting for the day is done?”

Cyrus sighed, feeling forlorn. “I’m sorry.”

T.J. furrowed his brows. “Why? You’re the one on a hospital bed, Cyrus. Oh, which reminds me, Ellie said she’s sorry for hitting you with the basketball.”

Cyrus let out a soft chuckle. “I forgive her.” He wriggled a bit to make himself more comfortable. “Just my luck, huh? When I thought that I was finally getting somewhere and achieving big things, something had to go and ruin it.”

“Hey.” T.J. placed a comforting hand on his arm. “This is just a minor setback. You’ll be back on your feet behind the camera in no time, okay? For today, just get some rest.”

Cyrus smiled at how sweet he was being. “Thank you, T.J.”

“Anytime.” The athlete sat back on his seat. “So… what was the first movie you ever made?”

Grateful for the change in subject, Cyrus launched into a story of getting his first camera from his Bubbe when he was in the third grade and filming a short little film about a lonely dinosaur who got lost on his way home and met a lion and a bird and became friends with them. The stars were his favorite Brontosaurus toy and two animal toys that Andi had left and forgotten about from one of their play dates.

T.J. asked questions about the plot, laughed in all the right places, and made Cyrus feel that he was genuinely interested in such a story.

It was a silly one, of course, since he was only 9 at the time. But he was proud of it. His step-father Todd helped him with the editing and his mother kept a copy of that little movie in a CD somewhere in her home.

“I bet if you sell that to Disney or something, they’ll pick it up and make an animated movie!” T.J. exclaimed, sounding excited. “I’ll watch it and I’ll take my kids to watch it! Heck, even if I don't have kids, I’ll still watch it!”

Cyrus chuckled. “Really? You swear on it?”

T.J. placed his right hand on his chest. “I swear on the gods of basketball. I will watch all of your movies.”

“Even the terrible ones?” Cyrus teased.

“Even if they’re terrible, I probably won’t tell you.”

“Hey!”

Laughing for the first time since he woke up, Cyrus felt lighter. He could barely feel the pain on is nose anymore and he could move his body a bit better now.

Slowly, he sat up. T.J. immediately got up from his seat to help him, propping the pillow behind him to support his back.

“Thank you, T.J.”

“No problem.”

“And, not just for helping me out but…” Cyrus’ hands fisted in the blanket. “You always believe in me, even when I don’t believe in myself. So, thank you for that.”

“Cyrus.” T.J. placed a hand over one of his and Cyrus tried really hard not to blush. “You’re amazing, you know that? You are capable of so much more. You just… need a little push and someone to believe in you.” He smiled, patting his hand before pulling back. “I don’t mind being that person. Besides, seeing you working so hard… it makes me want to work hard and be better, too.”

His words made Cyrus’ heart do a backflip in his chest. The heat on his cheeks was overwhelming so he turned away to try and hide it.

“You’re gonna be an awesome filmmaker, Cy. I know it.”

“You… have a way of making me believe you, you know,” Cyrus stated, as casually as he could while trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest.

He took a peek at T.J. who shrugged. “I’ll keep telling you the same thing until you believe it yourself.”

Cyrus wondered if he could ask the nurse for some ice because his face felt extremely hot at the moment.

Thankfully, by the time his dad arrived to pick him up, Cyrus had calmed down. His dad offered a ride home to T.J. as thanks for keeping him company, but the athlete politely refused.

Cyrus couldn’t help but be a little disappointed about that. He was hoping to spend more time with T.J. He had managed to calm him down and distract him despite his panic.

And he had taken care of Cyrus.

That thought, alone, sent his heart into a frenzy once more.

Tag list:

@lemon-boy-tj @homosexualearthworm @disastrxlogy @new-to-the-phandom @tyrusgoingfast @tj-cyrus @multifandom-bxitch (for some reason, your tag won’t show up? Please lmk if your Tumblr name has changed!) @completelysterling @spike-heels (won’t tag for some reason) @thedampjofangirl @i-am-confussion

#tyrus #tyrus fanfic #tyrus perfect moment

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binary5tar1117 · 5 years ago

Text

Paint the Roses White - Ch. 3

Written by: @i-live-so-i-love and @kimlinebiased

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: main VMin, side NamJinGi, side HopeKook 

Genres: fantasy, angst, smut

Tags: Alice in Wonderland AU, smut, fluff, angst, alternate universe, bottom!Taehyung, top!Jimin, violence, abusive parents, shapeshifter!Taehyung, barebacking, alcohol use, side HopeKook, sideNamJinGi, implied drug use, more tags added as necessary

Summary: Jimin’s life sucks. He’s miserable, beat down, and tired. That is, until a mysterious boy with purple hair and a dangerous smile slides into his life and turns it upside down. The White Queen is ruling and drinks are on the house in the Hat Trick Lounge. Caterpillar is missing and the Prince of Hearts is ready for a war, if only he could figure out where his damn rabbit ran off to again…

Word Count: ~10.1k+ (updated biweekly)

A/N: If you’d like to be tagged in chapters, please send either @kimlinebiased or myself a message or DM off anon - we will add you to a tag list so you never miss an update! Alternately, you can subscribe on AO3 for an email when a chapter is posted!

A/N2: We are anticipating a biweekly upload schedule! This may vary on the day week to week due to just general real life things, and if anything big changes we’ll try to let you know.

Jimin woke up face first in the dirt. He groaned. There was a sharp sting in his upper arm and his muscles ached like he’d run a marathon. Memories of the last few hours flooded his mind. He shot up, looking around. He was on a dirt road through a forest, it stretched on in either direction as far as he could see. Off in the distance he could just make out a blonde figure disappearing over the horizon.

“Hey!” Jimin called after him.

Panic clutched at Jimin’s throat. He had no idea where he was or how he got here because what just happened couldn’t possibly have happened. He had no idea how to get back home. There wasn’t even anyone around to ask for help. Tears burned behind his eyes. Worst of all, he had let Taehyung down. He’d lost the drive.

He wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand. He didn’t have time to cry over it right now.

He poked at the hole in his dress shirt. The red stain spreading looked worse than it was. The bullet had only grazed him and not even that deeply. Since it was ripped and stained anyway he tore the sleeve off and tied it around the wound. It was the best he could do for now.

He took a deep breath and stared down the road to his left where Rabbit had disappeared. He could see a smoky haze in the sky; the other way was nothing. He shrugged. Something was better than nothing.

As he walked along the path he took in the trees around him. They were different than he was used to. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. The leaves were a little too green and the branches never quite angled the way he expected. Still, they were pretty and it let Jimin relax a little.

An odd crunch under Jimin’s foot made him pause and look down. He lifted his foot and underneath were shards of the dark pearl Rabbit used to bring them here. Jimin’s stomach dropped. Would he be able to get home without it? He crouched to pick up the pieces. Maybe it could be fixed.

As he stood up a woman’s voice behind him made him turn.

“Oh Oyster! Come and walk with us!” She stood in the middle of the road, closer than he would have expected. She was dressed head to toe in black, her black and purple hair pulled into a high tight ponytail. Her wide set eyes glittered, a cruel smile curving her red lips.

Before Jimin could respond another voice spoke from the direction he had been facing a moment ago.

“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk.” She was dressed the same at the other woman in all black, the same smile across her face.

“We’ll talk of many things,” the first woman said. She had gotten closer, nearly in arms reach away now. Jimin could see a collection of knives along her waist.

“Of shoes and ships and sealing wax.”

“Of cabbages and kings.”

They circled him threateningly. Jimin crouched, prepared to defend himself but not liking his odds against their knives.

“Of why the sea--” The second woman dropped her stance and put her hands on her hips. “Hyuna, can we just kill him and be done now? I’m bored of this already,” she whined.

“You’re bored of everything, Jiwoo. There’s a reason you’re called a walrus.” The one named Hyuna clapped her hands and made a barking noise.

“That’s a seal, you fool. I still want to kill him.” She drew a long ivory dagger from behind her, raising it threateningly.

“Whoa! Kill me?” Jimin squeaked, raising his hands in a weak defense. “For what?”

“Don’t play dumb. We know what you are.”

“I’m Jimin! Park Jimin. Please! I just want to go home.”

Jiwoo hesitated. She glanced at Hyuna.

“You can’t be. It’s impossible.”

“Please!” Jimin tried again. “I didn’t mean to come! I just wanted the drive. See?” He held out the broken pearl. Hyuna swore, yanking the shards from his palm.

“You fool!” She hissed, her eyes glinting dangerously. It reminded Jimin of Taehyung. “Why would you break this! It was the last we had!”

“You know why he broke it,” Jiwoo said, wiggling the dagger. “He’s an Oyster.”

“I’m not! I’m just a guy!” Jimin cried.

“His hair,” Hyuna said softly, her dark eyes searching Jimin up and down. Her nose twitched, catlike. “And he doesn’t smell like the Oysters.”

“Could be a disguise. They know about us.”

Hyuna stepped closer to Jimin. She tilted her head, her eyes widening a little as she searched his face. Jimin couldn’t hide the gasp that slipped from his mouth when her eyes shifted in front of him, tiny, catlike slits taking the place of her previously round pupils. She blinked, her eyes returning to normal. “I can’t figure out what he is.”

“I’m just a guy. Park Jimin. I was born in Busan, I-- I live alone with my dad, I work in a call center for Christ’s sake. I just want to go home. I didn’t mean to get tangled up in all this! Taehyung gave me--”

“Taehyung!” Jiwoo cried. “What of Taehyung?”

“I-- We--” Jimin’s cheeks burned hot. “I met him,” he mumbled, not wanting to risk outing Taehyung by accident to these two women.

“We shouldn’t kill him,” Hyuna said. Jimin sighed in relief. “Yet,” she added, smirking at him. Jiwoo pouted, a strikingly innocent expression on her beautifully deadly face. “Why?”

“There’s something wrong here. I can smell it. We should take him to the Hat Trick.”

“Then can we kill him?”

“As soon as the Prince gets a good look at him, yeah, we’ll open him up and take out the pretty pearls.”

Jimin’s stomach twisted painfully at the delightful noise Jiwoo made at Hyuna’s promise. Much to his relief, she sheathed the dagger, but withdrew a set of handcuffs. Jimin stepped back, wondering if he had a shot in hell of escaping.

“It’s gonna be best if you just come with us, Oyster,” Hyuna warned. Jimin felt the prick of a knife along his side. He tensed. “We’re not the untrained kittens you’re used to dealing with.”

Jimin swallowed audibly. “Just put the knife away. I’ll come,” he whispered.

“Knife?” Hyuna chuckled. She raised her hand, revealing sharp claws in place of her previously blood red manicured nails. “The knives are just for show… My paws work so much better.”

Jimin cried out in surprise, stumbling away from Hyuna, and directly into Jiwoo’s arms. “Gotcha!” She teased, laughing as she slapped the cuffs on his wrists. She grabbed the center metal links and began to walk, all but dragging Jimin along behind her.

Hyuna followed along behind them, her steps so silent that Jimin could scarcely hear them. As they walked toward the hazy end of the road that Rabbit had disappeared from, Jimin couldn’t help but wonder if he was being led to his salvation… Or his doom.

Jimin wasn't sure how long or far they walked. The road seemed to never change. At first he had tried asking questions but Jiwoo snapped at him. He may need his tongue to answer questions, but he didn't need all his fingers. He didn't think it was worth risking whether she was bluffing since they weren’t answering them anyway. So he remained silent.

Jiwoo and Hyuna occasionally chatted as they walked. Jimin guessed they were close, sisters maybe from the undertone of bickering.

At no sign Jimin could see, Jiwoo turned and hauled him into the bushes. Jimin dug in his heels, suddenly terrified they were dragging him into the woods to kill him. “Wait- I thought you were taking me to someone? To answer questions.”

“We are, stupid Oyster. Didn't you see the sign?” Jiwoo gestured impatiently behind him.

Jimin turned and there was now an incongruous neon sign reading “Hatter & Hare’s Hat Trick Lounge”.

Further down Jimin could see other signs: “Mock Turtle’s Fashion Boutique”, “Lobster Quadrille Dance Studio”, “Golden Nile Crocodile Spa”. When he looked back the way they had been going there was still nothing.

“Let’s go.” Hyuna pricked him in the back to get him moving.

Jimin stumbled through the brush until they landed on a path narrower but parallel to the one they’d left. This one wound through the trees in loops and branched. Some paths continued further into the woods and some ended abruptly. His guards led him down the closest path. As they approached a wooden door popped into existence, light brown and inviting. Jimin blinked. He could see around it to the other side but Hyuna knocked, clearly expecting an answer.

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” a voice called through the keyhole.

“Jae, if you don’t let me in, I swear to god I will cut your fucking balls off.”

The door opened and a heavy drum beat poured out. A tall man with round glasses leaned against the door. Behind him was a dark room with distant flashing lights. Definitely not the woods Jimin was standing in. “What’s the point of a secret entrance if you don’t have a secret code?” Jae said, exasperated.

Jiwoo dragged Jimin through the door and shut it. The woods disappeared and Jimin was now in what was clearly a storage room of some kind. Wine barrels lined one wall there were rows of shelves with boxes of varying sizes.

“Who’s this? New recruit?” Jae nodded at Jimin.

“An Oyster Hyuna wouldn’t let me kill.”

Jae’s eyes widened.

“I’m not an Oyster. I don’t even know what that is. I’m just a guy!” Jimin tried to insist. The others ignored him.

Jae looked him over. “But his hair.”

“And what about yours?” Jiwoo cocked her head, annoyed.

Jae ran a hand through his fading pink hair. He opened his mouth to retort but Hyuna cut him off.

“Enough. Go get Jin so we can sort this out and be done? Grab Taehyung if he’s around too.”

Jae nodded and left with a backwards glance at Jimin.

The beat of the music from the other room was almost hypnotic, a rhythm that Jimin could feel in his bones. He took the opportunity to look around the room, searching for any clue as to where he might be. The wine barrels were stamped with varying numbers that Jimin couldn’t make heads nor tails of. There was a strawberry sweet scent all around them, implying at least some of the alcohol was fruit flavored. The boxes on the shelves were labeled with various words, glasses, bottles, corks, labels, etcetera. What was clearly the name of the place, the Hat Trick Lounge, was emblazoned on the high wall above the barrels.

Jae returned, a bottle of light pink liquid with a label of a jumping rabbit in his grip. “Jin wants you to take him to the lounge. He and the rest are there.”

“Who are the rest?” Hyuna asked.

“Hatter and Rabbit. Taehyung’s off chasing mice or whatever the hell you Cheshires hunt.”

Jiwoo swiped the air in front of Jae’s face with her claws. “Come a little closer and I’ll show you what we hunt.”

Jae rolled his eyes, smiling good naturedly. Jimin wasn’t sure how he wasn’t wetting himself in the presence of these two.

“Hush your hissing, Jiwoo. Doesn’t become you. Go on.” He nodded toward a door Jimin hadn’t seen before. As they passed, Jimin looked at him pleadingly. Jae smiled and shrugged helplessly. He knocked back another sip of his drink and wandered into the darkness on the other side of the room as Jimin was pulled through the door.

Jimin found himself in the middle of a room with no door and no windows, save for a rose colored glass roof that allowed sunshine to filter through. The centerpiece of the room was a rich cherrywood table, littered with the same rabbit labeled bottles that Jae had been holding, as well as a few half full bowls of brightly colored cookies and sweets. There were two leather loveseats and an easy chair surrounding the table, broken in and worn to the point that stuffing was sticking out in some places. On one of the easy chairs was occupied by a tall, slender man. He wore a hot pink baseball cap, bright orange hair sticking out wildly. The sides of the cap pushed his ears down so they folded over, adding to the overall crazy appearance that his flashy, patched and stitched together clothing already implied.

The love seat next to him was occupied by a strikingly beautiful redhead. He wore a leather jacket and a pair of jeans ripped in various areas to show his knees and thighs. Jimin’s eyes widened when he realized the man’s hair matched his own in vibrance and shade. He paid Jimin and his captors no attention, his focus on Rabbit, who had his head in the redhead’s lap. He was stroking his fingers through Rabbit’s soft white hair, his plush lips curled up into a quiet smile.

“You!” Jimin cried.

The two men on the couch looked up and Rabbit’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“You! What are you doing here?” Rabbit asked, sitting up.

Jimin scowled. “What do you mean what am I doing here? I followed you.” He took a step toward the couch but a hand wrapped around his injured arm painfully tight, claws digging into his skin. “Give me back the pen drive and send me home!”

Rabbit looked more confused than ever. “Followed me? How?”

Jimin opened his mouth to retort but the redhead cut him off.

“Namjoon, who is he?” He spoke calmly and quietly but there was an air of command to his voice.

Rabbit, who’s real name must have been Namjoon, turned back to the redhead. “Park Jimin,” he answered with a significant look. “Taehyung’s boyfriend.”

Jimin blushed. “I’m not- we’re not-”

The redhead stood up and stuck out his hand. “A friend of Taehyung’s is a friend of mine...usually.” His full lips curved into a smile. “I’m Kim Seokjin. Most people around here just call me Jin.” Jimin shook his hand awkwardly in the handcuffs, slightly bewildered.

”Oh, we can take those off.” Jin gestured for Hyuna to uncuff him.

Jiwoo pouted. “He’s really Taehyung’s boyfriend? We don’t get to kill him?”

Jimin blushed again at her phrasing. It had only been one night.

“He had the drive with all the information on it and he was trying to protect it with his life.” Namjoon smiled at Jimin. “He’s on our side.”

Jiwoo made an unhappy hissing noise.

“Sorry, you’ll have to find someone else to sharpen your claws on. Rook and Bishop might still be out there,” Jin suggested.

Once Hyuna was done uncuffing Jimin, she grabbed Jiwoo by the shoulders and steered her out a door that appeared as they turned. “Come on. Let’s go find Solbi-unnie and Adora-unnie for a drink before we head out.”

“Sorry about them.” Jin said once the door disappeared again. “They, uh, enjoy their job a little too much. Especially Jiwoo. But they are good at it.” He gestured for Jimin to take a seat.

Jimin hesitated. “How do I know I can trust you? If you’re friends with Taehyung, where is he? Can I talk to him?”

“I’m sorry Jimin. He didn’t realize how close he was being followed when he gave you that thumb drive. He’s still in hiding trying to shake of a couple Oysters.” Jin hurried to add when he saw Jimin expression, “he’s okay. He’s let us know that he’s safe. He just doesn’t want to risk coming back to the hideout and giving us away until he’s sure it’s safe. Sit please.”

Jimin finally did.

“You look like you need a drink.” The orange haired man leaned forward to pour some of the pink liquid into a clean glass and hand it to Jimin. “I’m Jung Hoseok, the uh,” he flicked the brim of his cap and grinned, “hatter of Hatter and Hare’s Hat Trick Lounge.”

Jimin peered into the glass considering whether it was safe to drink. It smelled sweet and refreshing. “So he’s hare then?” Jimin nodded at Namjoon.

All three burst into laughter.

“He wishes,” Hoseok muttered, shoving Namjoon playfully. “No. Hare is-”

“Hoseokie-hyung! Why did you miss my dance?” A tall half clothed young man with pink hair and fake pink bunny ears on his head appeared behind Jimin. There was still no door so Jimin wasn’t sure where he came from.

The man marched across the room and climbed into Hoseok’s lap, straddling him. “You said you’d be there,” he pouted, wrapping his arms around Hoseok’s neck. “You never miss a dance.”

Hoseok rubbed over the man’s bare thighs and shiny pink shorts. “I’m know baby. I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook.” Jin’s voice cut into their not so private moment. “We have a guest.”

Jungkook turned, cocking his head at Jimin. His eyes narrowed, his nose scrunching. The action lifted his top lip enough to reveal the peek of his front teeth, giving him a very bunny like expression. Jimin couldn’t hide the smile that slid onto his face despite everything. The guy was cute, he had to admit.

“Who’re you?” Jungkook asked.

“I-- Park Jimin.”

“I’m Jeon Jungkook. JK.”

“Or the March Hare,” Namjoon added, jutting his thumb toward the wall. Jimin spotted a calendar hanging. It was open to March’s image, which just so happened to be Jungkook in his bunny ears and nothing else. A basket full of goodies was the only thing hiding his goods from view.

“March. Got it,” Jimin said.

“Is he why you missed my dance?” Jungkook asked, turning his attention back to Hoseok.

“Unfortunately no. I wish it was that simple. Some business to discuss with Jin-hyung.”

The pouting smile disappeared from Jungkook’s face. “Resistance information?”

Hoseok nodded.

“Fill me in?”

“Of course. Entertain our patrons?”

“Always. Jae-hyung is cracking bad jokes for now, it’ll only be so long before the guests start throwing fruit at his head.”

“Ah, well, better go soothe the crowd then. Keep those ears cocked for any Queen news, yes?” Hoseok stroked one of the ears playfully. Jungkook nodded, his strikingly innocent smile returning.

He slid off Hoseok’s lap and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his mouth. He turned and bowed to Jimin. As he darted out of the door that disappeared in the blink of an eye, Jimin couldn’t help but notice the way the young man had stared at his hair. Even in this world, he seemed to stick out. With one exception.

“Is your hair real?” Jimin asked, turning his attention toward Jin.

The air in the room seemed to thicken a little. “Yes,” Jin answered after a moment.

“I’ve never seen another person with hair like mine unless it’s been dyed. Even then…”

“Well,” Jin smiled a little, glancing over at Namjoon. “That’s likely because I’m not a human. Not really.”

Jimin snorted. “Very funny. What is this stuff?” He asked, tilting his glass a little.

“Wine. We make it ourselves. Strawberry flavor.” Hoseok said. Jin reached out, snagging his own glass and taking a sip.

“We’ve no reason to poison you, Jimin. You weren’t meant to get involved, but you aren’t in danger.”

“Well your hitmen out there made it pretty clear that wasn’t the case.”

Jin shrugged. “As I said, they’re just… Excitable. They have a lot of justice to seek. Unfortunately, their revenge tends to come at… Inopportune moments. They won’t harm you, not without my approval.”

“What’s so big shot about you?” Jimin asked.

“Hey.” Namjoon’s tone was sharp and warning. Jin smiled still, setting a hand on Namjoon’s thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Relax, baby. He doesn’t know. Taehyung told him nothing. For good reason. He likes you - he clearly wanted you protected… He’ll be disappointed that you ended up here.”

“Easy fix,” Jimin said, “send me home.”

“We can arrange that. Not right away though. The Oysters may still be looking for you and I don’t want to risk sending you, or any scout I send with you, falling into their hands. Please. For your own protection. You saw what they were like.”

Jimin touched his injured shoulder. “I did.”

“Then stay with us tonight at least. We’ll send you home tomorrow. My word is everything in this room.”

“That… Might not be so easy,” Namoon said softly.

Jin glanced over at him. “Why not?”

“I… Lost the pearl.” Namjoon’s voice was soft, his head hung.

“Namjoonie,” Jin whined, putting his hand on his forehead. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No. I was in such a rush. I thought the Oysters were coming and I just took off, I-- I’m sorry, Jin-hyung.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s still on the path. It’s relatively unused except by our troupe. We’ll just go find it. Send Hyuna - she’s got a bloodhound’s nose.”

“The pearl?” Jimin squeaked. “Small… Shiny… Black?”

“Yes.” Jin said hesitantly.

“It’s… Those girls already have it. I had it when they found me.”

“Excellent.”

“Not so much,” Jimin said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I sorta… Stepped on it. It’s shattered.”

“No.”

Jimin winced. “Can it be fixed?”

Jin slumped down, burying his face in his hands. He made a small noise of frustration. Namjoon’s shoulders slumped, his entire body seeming to sink in on itself. “We’re fucked,” he mumbled.

Jimin glanced around, panic rising in his throat. “What’s going on? What’s so important about the pearl? Someone, please--”

Hoseok sighed softly. He rose and paced to the other side of the room. He took off his pink cap and donned a black fedora with various colored feathers.

“The pearl is the key to your world, Jimin-ssi. Without it, we can’t get there.”

“Well, can we get another one?”

Hoseok turned back to Jimin. “No. They are in limited supply… And the royals that we are at war with have them. The Rook and the Bishop, the Oysters you met… They’re assassins of the Royal Army. We are their enemies.”

“The Royal Army? The-- Where am I?” Jimin asked softly, almost dreading the answer.

Hoseok smiled, broad and bright as sunshine.

“Oh, rude of us, accept my apologies. Welcome to Wonderland.”

#kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #vmin #ptrw

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dangankinner-aeshetics · 6 years ago

Text

Isn’t it fun when you get a random panic attack over something someone said to you so you try to laugh it off then the person you love the most deactivates because shit keeps hitting the fan-

Cause that’s what I got right now-

I’ll drop a read under the cut if you really want to know what’s up-

~Mod Fuyu

I don’t want to play “the victim” role, but it seems that that role has been forced on me that I’m manipulative when I’m not, and if the person I directed this too is reading this, I hope you do know that my boyfriend only leaves Tumblr because you find him. He is trying to get away from you. You always find him. You always find me.

But you know what? I’m tired of hiding. You don’t scare me. In fact, you just piss me off. I’m glad you have that post on your blog about “These blogs please never EVER interact!” or something like that. Why? Because now I really know you’ll never change.

Yeah. I sent those asks. I was genuinely curious on hearing your side of the story. I know now that the idea was a bad one because your story stays the same always. Hell, I may be biased, but I’ve known you for a long time, since the beginning of last year probably! You were my friend. Now I can’t stand to see your name anymore.

I’m glad you were a fan and all of my blog, and I won’t make a DNI call out post. Why? Cause that’s just low. It’s rude and wrong and I’m not being like you. You made me terrified of doing anything for Mahiru. And she’s a good character! You just ruined her for me. And yeah, I’m rambling.

And I’m sure my boyfriend did some bad things, but you did too. You can’t act like a saint. You are far from a saint. In fact, I’m no better! I’m no saint, neither are you or my boyfriend. We have all done some shitty stuff, but none of us are victims.

Wanna know my side of the story? Here.

About a year or two ago, it’s kinda hazy but I’m pretty sure I met this girl, let’s call her Mack for now. I met Mack on Pony Town, pretty sure, and if I’m wrong, oh well. I got her Discord tag, we started talking, and I met her friends and such, and we were all in a big ass server. They were the reason I came to Discord in the first place. I had a family. People I could go to that weren’t my normal family cause my actual family is pretty crap. So we talked, the server would die but it would always come back. That’s how I met my boyfriend and my ex. I met my boyfriend, who was dating Mack at the time, and we talked on occasion. Not too much, not too little, but we were close. I met my ex on there too. Let’s call her...I dunno, Bella. Bella never really talked too much, she seemed quieter. Though, near the end of the year, that’s when shit hit the fan for everyone really.

Mack and my boyfriend broke up. I stayed in her server because I didn’t see a problem with it. I was trying to comfort Mack and my boyfriend when I heard of the crap that happened behind the server. In DM’s. I got two different story lines for this. My boyfriends, and Mack’s. Both pin themselves to be the victim, and the other as the “bad guy.” However, in Mack’s, she twisted some things I knew to make my boyfriend seem like this evil, lying, manipulative asshole, which he really isn’t! I’ve been with him since December and I have yet to see him act like anything she’s called him. He is sweet, loving, emotional and terrified of Mack. In fact, he’s panicking in my Discord DM’s right now over this.

Back to the story. Me and Bella actually got together, I wanna say mid August or September? At this point, Mack and my boyfriend have little to no contact, and if they did, my boyfriend came to me and talked about it. Hell, even before me and Bella got together, bit Mack AND my boyfriend came to me to talk about it. I never told them I was in contact with the other cause I didn’t want to lose friends. Around October/December-ish is when I asked Bella and my boyfriend if we could be three together. Poly. It seemed okay to me, and the other two were hesitant but agreed after some talking. However..that didn’t last. My boyfriend didn’t like the poly at first, so he left me (he told me about it and I was fine-) for..let’s call them Coca and Blue. That lasted about three days? Then they broke up. Coca and Blue are friends of Mack, pretty sure, and I don’t know in detail what happened but yeah. Soon he came back to me, I asked Bella, and we were a thing again. However, it started falling apart. Bella never really liked my boyfriend like that. Soon, and don’t get me wrong, I still love Bella, I do. Just I can’t be around her. Why? She’s toxic. She’d tell me if I ever left her or we ever broke up, “Oh, I’d kill myself,” or “Oh, I don’t know what I’d do without you, I’d rather die then not be with you.” That kind of stuff. Again, don’t get me wrong! She is sweet and kind on her good days. On her bad days she’s just..she wasn’t good to be around.

Yes. I admit. I did go onto Mack’s blog. I only did it to check on how she was, and if our drama was done. The only reason I ever sent in an ask was because of what I know, and a post she made on how she never harassed a trans person. That was my only reason. Then it escalated into something I didn’t mean for it to go to, but I had to get the facts straight. I understand her side of the story, yes. I really do. But I just can’t see why she’d go out of her way to do everything in her power to pin my boyfriend as the bad guy. Hey. I may seem biased since I love him, but I’m not. I’m more impartial than anything. Yes, I think Mack is kind of an asshole at this point in time. And I probably will believe this for a long ass time. Until she can prove herself to me, I can’t see her as human. At least, not one with care and compassion for someone who is bursting at the seams from stress, dysphoria, depression and all sorts of other shit. AKA, my boyfriend. Yeah, she shows love and compassion to those she calls friends and all, but even I wouldn’t go this far for a toxic ex. You see me pinning Bella out to be the one that ruined my life? No. Cause she didn’t. She is a nice person at heart, she just has issues I can’t deal with. Not now. My majority of my exes suck, yeah. They do. The most I do is cut off contact with them. I don’t go be petty and make sure that their life is a living hell to the point of they are scared to be on any social media because of someone. That’s wrong, disgusting and just immature. If Mack has any maturity, she’ll read this post and say nothing of it. That or make a logical response and actually contact me about it. If not, I don’t care. Just proves that no matter how much you want somebody to change, some people are just so stubborn they’ll never change.

That is all I have to say. Sorry for how long it is, I just.. had to get this out.

#mod fuyu rambles #past shit #discourse #drama #old things #its just #really long #sorry #i had to get this out and explain what i know and why i acted #the way i did #im sorry #im so sorry for this

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anonymoushouseplantfan · 6 years ago

Note

is Groundhog Day,because 2 months ago,Katie Nicholl was saying the same thing ET''Meghan Markle and Prince Harry Expected to Visit Her Father in Mexico (Exclusive)'/'I hear one of the things they want to do sooner than later--and now that they're married --is to go and see Thomas Markle,who is recovering from a heart operation,"Nicholl says."We don't know when this trip might happen...I'm hearing from people close to Meghan and Harry that they're very keen to do it''

Thanks for bringing that back. I’m getting confused about what happened when, so I tried to put all the Tom Markle articles in order. Boy, this soap opera went on and on.

Like you said, they seemed to be planning a visit after the wedding.

https://www.etonline.com/meghan-markle-and-prince-harry-expected-to-visit-her-father-in-mexico-exclusive-102808

Now, that article came out on May 22nd, AFTER Tom had already talked to the press.

On May 19th Tom talked to TMZ about how much he loved the wedding, how he’d texted Meghan, and how all his relatives should “shut up.” He seemed to be expecting to see the newlyweds soon.

http://www.tmz.com/2018/05/19/thomas-markle-meghan-wedding-prince-harry/

Remember, he had been talking to TMZ throughout the whole wedding. In fact, the whole “heart operation” drama WAS BASED ON HIS CALLS TO TMZ before and after the supposed operation on May 15th and 16th.

http://www.tmz.com/2018/05/15/thomas-markle-meghan-heart-surgery-wedding/

http://www.tmz.com/2018/05/16/thomas-markle-meghan-surgery-heart-attack-stent/

Meghan seemed to confirm her father’s health issues on her official statement made on May 17th.

https://people.com/royals/meghan-markle-statement-father-not-attending-royal-wedding/

So everything was hunky dory in May even thought Thomas was talking to TMZ on an almost daily basis. No one at KP seemed to mind.

On May 22nd he called up TMZ again to explain why he was buying Frapuccinos after his heart operation and to say that he just wanted to be left alone.

http://www.tmz.com/2018/05/22/thomas-markle-followed-paparazzi-meghan-wedding/

On May 31st he called them again to explain that he never took money from Meghan.

http://www.tmz.com/2018/05/31/thomas-markle-never-asked-meghan-money-royal-wedding/

At this point he was just talking to TMZ to explain himself. He wasn’t saying anything about Meghan and Harry except that they had texted/spoken the day of the wedding.

On June 5th the DM got pics of him going to the barber looking pretty happy and relaxed.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5803695/Thomas-Markle-Sr-gets-haircut-shave-Rosarito-barbershop.html

Then on June 18th he went on Good Morning Britain and spoke about Harry’s opinions on Trump and Brexit.

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/meghan-markles-father-breaks-silence-calls-staged-paparazzi-photos-a-mistake-1120830

This seems to be when the shit hit the fan. At that point KP was reportedly furious about being “blindsided.”

https://www.mirror.co.uk/tv/tv-news/worried-piers-morgan-told-palace-12733493

And Tom now feared he was “frozen out.”

https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/6609375/thomas-markle-frozen-out-kensington-palace/

On July 3rd he supposedly “reconciled” with Tom Jr.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5913887/Meghan-Markles-father-estranged-half-brother-reunited-near-Mexican-border.html

On July 15th he did the “terrified” interview with The Sun.

https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/6781106/thomas-markle-believes-meghan-markle-terrified-of-new-life/

And said that Tom Jr had “ambushed” him for a staged reconciliation two weeks before. Man, these people are so messed up.

https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/6792716/meghan-markles-dad-thomas-orders-warring-family-to-stop-criticising-her-in-final-interview-as-he-desperately-tries-to-repair-relationship/

Then on July 18th Meghan’s “friend” told the DM that Tom had faked his heart attack.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-5934735/Thomas-Markle-xlaimed-heart-surgery-excuse-pull-Meghans-wedding-source-says.html

Then on July 28th, Tom did the “better off dead” interview with the DM, mentioning Diana and explaining that the contact numbers he had for Meghan stopped working.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-6002773/Thomas-Markle-says-Meghan-cut-life.html

Then on August 1st, Meghan’s friend told the DM the the reconciliation was “off the table” and that the royals were “not as upset as you would think.”

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-6016101/Meghan-Markle-father-never-reconcile-friend-claims.html

Then on August 3rd, the Mirror found out that the palace was having “crisis” meetings over Thomas and mulling their options.

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/meghan-markles-dad-thomas-sparks-13012311

Then the Times and The Mirror got the leaks about the upcoming meeting.

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/meghan-markle-is-unfazed-by-her-difficultdads-outbursts-wf8g35q8h

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/meghan-markle-reunite-dad-secret-13034191

So, that’s where we are now. Wow, this has been quite the roller-coaster.

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legmanns-moved · 7 years ago

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Lime Cookie is canonically gay- an essay

To start, someone must’ve misinterpreted/misread a certain rant I had a while back about the Cookie Run fandom headcanoning literally every character as gay and trans, because recently I’ve been getting DM’s asking for proof that Lemon Cookie is canonically gay. Unfortunately, I did not say such, as there is barely any evidence to support that claim, but I instead said that Lime Cookie is.

After I explained this mixup, one user was actually interested in why I argue that Lime is canonically a lesbian, so here’s a cleaner version of my rambly rant and evidence. Please keep in mind that I’m not an expert whatsoever on the game, as I’ve only been in the fandom for a little under a year, as I got the Line edition of the game in mid-April 2017.

So! To start, we have to establish the relationship between Orange and Lime. “But Amina, why are you doing that?” I know a lot of the people in the fandom are like my friends, and gather conclusions as to what is and isn’t true based off fanworks, and seeing as Line, the version where Lime is, is closing soon, and a decent amount of people have just moved to Ovenbreak for convenience reasons, this is indeed necessary.

We could just have this be quick and simple by saying it’s obvious that the two know each other, because they’re right next to each other in the cookie index and they’re both citrus fruit, but I don’t like it when things are that easy.

To start the long list of proof of their relation, if you read Lime’s character description, it states that she’s pretty cold and distant toward the other cookies, but is only really close with one, and that she has learned her SMASH! ability (in which she spikes a Lime-themed volleyball in front of her, destroying obstacles and earning points) from this other Cookie. Who could this mystery Cookie be? Simple. How many other cookies are there with a SMASH! ability? One. Orange Cookie(except instead of having lime volleyballs, Orange has orange-themed tennis balls). Our next step is proving that Orange does indeed know Lime as well, so the relation is mutual. Orange’s character description doesn’t really go into detail on her backstory as much as Lime’s (you have to go to Lemon’s and Lime’s to get bits and pieces of it). We get from these that Orange is a very upbeat, positive, and friendly person who cares deeply for others, but more importantly, that “Her smashes are getting stronger every time.. perhaps it is because of her childhood friend?..”

But wait. This presents a problem. There’s another citrus fruit cookie that mentions getting help from a ‘childhood friend’, that also happens to be to the left of Orange Cookie on the character index, and that is Lemon Cookie.

Just as an overview of Lemon, his character description goes into detail on him formerly being unable to control his electric powers, (that came as a result of his being made from an electrically-charged lemon), and having his rubix cube that contains all his extra energy. “ Lemon Cookie's childhood friend found this cube quite intriguing. Thanks to the friend, Lemon Cookie learned various ways to solve the cube and even has some of his own tricks up his sleeve. When Lemon Cookie was unable to control its power it became a danger to other cookies. This childhood friend may have been the only one Lemon Cookie could talk to.” Not only does his description also match Orange’s with the specific use of the term ‘childhood friend’, but as further proof that the friend alluded to in Lemon’s description is Orange, the friend’s kind and supportive nature matches what we know of Orange’s personality.

Luckily for us, there is still concrete proof that the childhood friend referred to in Orange’s bio is still indeed Lime, despite Lemons’ also having alluded to Orange. Orange Cookie’s character description specifically mentions her practicing her SMASH! ability with a childhood friend. Lemon Cookie does not have a SMASH! ability, but rather an electric shield, which you can check out here. Not only that, but in Mini Orange Mouse’s character description, it’s mentioned that “it was thanks to this pet that Orange Cookie made friends with a cookie tucked away all alone behind some bushes.”. Seeing as Lemon was never mentioned as having as many issues branching out and getting along with others (besides that time his electric powers got out of control, because in that instance, in his description it states that his “childhood friend may have been the only one Lemon Cookie could talk to”), we can deduce that this is indeed about Lime, who is mentioned to only have “a single Cookie that she has a weak spot for.”, while acting cold toward everyone else.

So we’ve now established that Orange and Lime have a close relationship, have known each other since childhood, have similar interests and they are significant enough in each other’s lives to each be mentioned in the other’s description. I’ve argued enough here to at least confirm their being best friends, minimum. While I was writing this, my friend brought up a good point about Lemon and Orange being confirmed as also having a relationship, and how acknowledging the context of their relationship could further help imply the type of relationship Lime Cookie has with Orange Cookie.

Orange and Lemon have also known each other since childhood, as from the information we have been given in Lemon’s description, and Orange’s nature, Orange was his source of support at a time when he couldn’t fully control his powers and was perceived as a danger to others. In Lime’s description we are also told that “Sometimes, her jealousy causes uncomfortable situations”. This could create some tension in their relationship due to their differences in ability to socialize. Lime is a clear introvert that doesn’t particularly like opening up to new people, that makes one good friend or so, then just becomes attached to them(I relate to this on an unreal level). On another hand, Orange Cookie is a clear extrovert that likes to get along with everyone, and tries to build as many positive relationships with others as possible. This aspect of her personality would further affect Lime’s jealous nature, as she’d be terrified of the one true person she has a close bond with leaving her. The trope of jealousy is used relatively often in fictional romantic couples, with a one member being jealous of friends of the other’s, and worrying that something is going on between them. So Lemon Cookie would be seen as a threat to Lime’s having a secure relationship with Orange.

Seeing as Cookie Run’s target audience is not us westerners on Tumblr, but rather younger children (you can tell by the simplistic designs with bright colors, and the repetitive uncomplex gameplay), having characters explicitly stated as gay/bi/poly/pan could be controversial, cause boycotts, and in turn, hurt DEVSISTERS’ sales. As for why they might be reluctant on including this aspect, but openly have nonbinary characters (Angel, Devil, Cinnamon, Snow Sugar, Dark Choco, etc.), is something I honestly cannot answer with certainty. You could attribute it to the fact that binary gender is a social construct brought from the west elsewhere by colonizers and missionaries, and thus the concept of nonbinary people being not as obscure as it is here in the west.

Another good point that has been brought up (both by my friend and the user that motivated me to type this whole thing out) is the fact that in South Korea, the place where the Cookie Run franchise comes from, is a largely Christian conservative country, with nearly 60% of the country not believing that homosexuality should be accepted in society, in a 2013 poll by Pew Research. Although there have never been laws explicitly banning same-sex relationships, marriage equality is still nearly unheard of in South Korea, and LGBT+ people are not allowed to serve in military or adopt.

I don’t know if this is worth mentioning, but if I still have not convinced you, mysterious reader who has inexplicably stuck with me this far, but let’s look past the character descriptions, because if you really like reading up on lore and stuff, there are two key treasures from the Line game that can also further prove my point: the Orange-Lime Smoothie, and its eventual evolved state, the Super Fruity Orange-Lime Smoothie.

I got the former back in September 2017 and still have yet to use it, as I have yet to have unlocked anyone in the Citrus Trio (Lemon, Orange, and Lime) and it wouldn't be useful for me, as the item, without any upgrades, only slightly slows energy drain and gives bonus points for Citrus Jellies. The first reason why these are a useful source to promote my cause, is the name, that part’s obvious. It specifically mentions Orange and Lime, and nobody else. The more important piece of evidence we can derive from these items, is that in the description for the initial item (Orange-Lime Smoothie), the description specifically states “Orange and lime infused into one!”. The terminology of having two individuals “fused into one”, where I’m from at least, usually refers to people being married or in a serious relationship.

So yeah, Lime’s gay. If anyone wants more of these, please reblog, follow, like and stuff to show your support, and message me or whatever on who and what you’d like to see next. I can’t promise that I’ll get to all of them, or be very active on this account, but I had fun doing this and would love to do more in this fandom!

- -

tl;dr- It’s safe to argue that Lime Cookie is canonically a lesbian and in a relationship with her loving and supportive girlfriend Orange Cookie who she unfortunately fears will leave her for someone “better”, due to proof given by both their and other characters’ character descriptions mentioning their history and close bond with one another, and in-game items such as the Orange-Lime Smoothie. My friend @koalapunsareunbearable was a major role in my being able to type all this out and format it, and playing devil’s advocate when I tried to take the easy way out on some claims, and for that I am grateful. Have a nice night.

#cookie run #lime cookie #orange cookie #orangelime #orange lime smoothie #Cookie Run OvenBreak #line cookie run #theory #cookie run fandom #orange #lime #limeorange

7 notes · View notes

theartificialdane · 7 years ago

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Galactica, part 246

In this Galactica throws their annual christmas gala, Fame plays ball, Courtney has a fan, Raja enjoys a drink and Violet sees someone she would rather forget.

Thank you @toriibelledarling @samrull and @veronicasanders <3

“Violet! Come on!”

“I’m almost there, get ready yourself!”

“I’ve been ready for the past hour! Hurry up!”

“I am!”

Sutan laughed, Violet yelling from the bathroom. They weren’t late yet for the Galactica holiday party, but they were getting dangerously close. Raja had called 15 minutes ago, telling him that she was calling the car around, and Sutan wasn’t sure if they would actually make it. Sutan was tying his shoes when Violet walked into the hallway, holding up a necklace, an apologetic look on her face. “Hi...”

“Hi.”

Violet nodded, and stepped towards him, giving him the necklace so he could click it into place, Sutan happily doing so. Violet looked perfect, the dress she was wearing a black sleek number that looked like it had belonged to Violet’s blonde friend Pearl, the straps keeping her waist perfectly in place, the black making her skin glow.

“You look great.”

“Thank you…”

“Are you nervous?” Sutan knew that Violet often took even longer to get ready when she wasn’t feeling her best, their argument about her curls still fresh in his mind.

“A little... It feels weird to not be involved at all... I haven’t seen seen the guestlist.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Sutan kissed Violet’s cheek and grabbed her coat, helping her into it before he texted Raja, telling her they would be right down. He offered his arm to Violet, his girlfriend taking it. “Watch out world.” Sutan smiled. “Here comes the prettiest girl at the ball.”

***

Fame sighed happily, standing with Patrick near the entrance to greet people as their illustrious guests walked the red carpet, the press snapping pictures left and right. Fame had been worried that everything would fall apart, worried like she always was, but she knew she was glowing with happiness at how beautifully everything had come together.

Fame looked over at her husband, beaming at him, thrilled that they were finally in a good place after the hellish fall they’d endured. If Fame was honest, she was actually sore from all the sex they had had, her heels making her hips ache, but it was a discomfort she would happily suffer through, Patrick looking devilishly handsome in his black suit.

Patrick returned her gaze, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “What?”

She tilted her head coquettishly, shrugging. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am. How lucky we are…” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. She could hear the cameras go off, but Fame didn’t care.

Patrick’s smile deepened, hands pulling her in closer by the waist. “The luckiest, my darling…”

***

“Stop fidgeting.” Betty walked down the carpet, people arriving left and right. She had asked Trixie if staff could go in the back, but her boss had insisted that they were the face of Galactica and that they had to walk the carpet along with everyone else.

“I’m not fidgeting.”

“You’re fidgeting.”

Shane pulled down his shirt. “You know how much I hate wearing monkey suits.”

“Why would a monkey even wear a suit in the first place?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” Shane tried to stretch, but the black fabric of his shiny suit kept him hugged in tight, making him unable to move. Betty saw Chad Michaels arrive, the dress she was wearing practically radiating that it was made by Violet. Betty rolled her eyes, a little green monster yawing in her chest, but when she was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to do what Violet did. Betty had seen Violet hand make the detailed dress and paint flower details no one would see, and Betty found it dumb, boring and stupid, while Violet had absolutely loved it

“Can we go home now?”

“No.” Betty took two glasses of champagne, giving one of them to Shane.

“You hate this more than me.” Shane took his glass and took a sip, and Betty couldn’t help but smile at how persistante Shane was.

“Oh I do, but we’re not leaving until Trixie have seen that I’m here.” Betty walked around amongst the guests, looking for her boss out the corner of her eye. “He has to see that I’m sociable, that I play well with others, and that I’m having a good time.”

“But you’re not having a good time.”

“He doesn’t know that, and I don’t see why you’re complaining. This will only benefit you.”

Shane raised an eyebrow, clearly not believe Betty.

“I’m going to be livid when we leave, and I plan on taking it all out on you.” Betty took Shane’s tie in hand, Shane staring at her, like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

“That doesn’t sound like a benefit-”

“In the bedroom.”

***

“Oh, look, it’s the belle of the ball, holding court…” Bianca teased, approaching Fame and Patrick, Courtney on her arm.

“Welcome to my ball,” Fame answered grandly, palms up, tossing some air kisses towards them.

Bianca threw back her head and laughed. “You dumb bitch,” she said, shaking her head affectionately.

Fame fluttered her lashes. “So, are you all ready for Puerto Rico next week?”

“Oh my god, it cannot come soon enough! We need to get away, and this one needs sunshine, don’t you baby?” Bianca kissed Courtney’s temple.

Courtney smiled, teeth grinding slightly. She wasn’t terribly enthused by the idea of spending her whole vacation with her former boss, Bianca’s best friend and former lover. She was especially irritated by the fact that Bianca had invited Fame and Patrick without discussing it with her, and so she had no way to really express this without sounding like a bitter, ungrateful brat. So she just bit back her discomfort and cheerfully added, “Can’t wait!”

“I’m with you there. It’s been ages since I’ve had a proper tan,” Fame said.

“Yeah, we can see that, Ice Queen.”

“Someone has to be one since Courtney has melted the ice around your heart,” she retorted, blue eyes sparkling as she stuck her tongue out, getting right in Bianca’s face.

“Bite me, blondie!”

“Happily!”

Patrick laughed. “Girls, girls, is it going to be like this the whole time?”

“Pretty much.”

Courtney rolled her eyes, looking around the room while the conversation turned into Fame’s fear of flying, especially since they’d be going on Jinkx’s family jet.

“Those little planes are so terrifying!”

Bianca shook her head. “Only you would complain about a private jet. What else? Is the caviar to salty? Diamonds too sparkly?”

“Oh, shut up! Those planes are scary and they crash more often and you /know/ it!”

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll be with you the whole time.” Patrick squeezed her hand, kissing her cheek.

“Nice to see that you two are disgustingly happy again,” Bianca said.

“Courtney?” asked a small voice.

Courtney turned to see a petite, pretty redhead standing there awkwardly, adjusting her glasses. She tried to remember where she might know this girl - had they gone to college together? Was she a Galactica employee? She looked a little young for that. “Um, hi…?”

“Holly. My dad works in business affairs and he let me come tonight, and I was just, um, I really like your music and I was wondering if I could take a picture with you.” Holly bit her lip.

Courtney’s eyes widened. She’d been approached by fans before, but that was at her actual concerts, not at a party with other celebrity types. She grinned, delighted, and broke away from Bianca’s grasp, exclaiming, “Sure!”

Holly’s shoulders sagged with relief and she whipped out her phone, pulling up Snapchat and squealing happily. “Omigod, thank you so much!”

Courtney put her arm around the girl, asking, “So, are you in school?”

“Yeah, I just started at NYU this Fall.”

“That’s where I went!”

“I know!” Holly giggled. “Okay, what filter do you like? I’m kind of partial to the bunny.”

“I like the flower crown,” Courtney said, sticking her tongue out at the camera. “Because it’s also a really good beauty filter.”

“You don’t need that,” Holly replied, blushing a little.

Courtney hugged her closer, hamming it up for the camera. “Oh, stop it some more!” She fluttered her lashes.

Holly giggled. “My friends are gonna be so jealous. Do you think we can do one for my Instastory too?”

“Sure!” Courtney said. “Here, let me film it.”

Holly handed over her phone.

“Hi, everyone, it’s Courtney. I’m here at this fabulous Galactica party with my BFF, Holly. What are you doing tonight?” She leaned over and kissed Holly on the cheek, then winked at the camera.

“Holy shit, thank you SO much!” Holly threw her arms around Courtney.

“You’re welcome. DM it to me, I’ll post it on my story, too.”

“I will! You are the absolute best, I love you!” As she bounced away happily, Courtney looked up and caught Bianca giving her a death glare.

“/What/?”

“Really? You were totally flirting with that girl,” Bianca said, reaching for her hand.

Courtney crossed her arms, not having it. “Are you kidding me? I was being nice.”

“It’s a fine line,” Bianca lectured, taking on that /tone/ that Courtney was starting to really hate. “I’m not saying you meant to do it, you just, you know, people can get the wrong idea. You need to be careful.”

Courtney bit back the ‘Okay, mum’ about to leave her mouth, knowing this wasn’t the time or place to start a fight, instead smiling tightly and saying, “Thanks for the tip. I’m gonna go get a drink. Do you want anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a...” Bianca trailed off as Courtney flounced away.

“Trouble in paradise?” Fame asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What? No, just...she just needs more media training. Fuck off.”

Fame smirked slightly, taking a dainty sip of her champagne. “I dunno, B. It may be time to spring for the expensive jewelry…” She placed a light kiss on her friend’s cheek, giggling a little, as Bianca glowered back at her.

***

“Is my lipstick okay?” Raven turned around so she was facing Raja.

“It’s fine, stop worrying.”

“You’re the one who kissed me in the car!”

“Sutan insisted taking the front seat of the cab, and Violet doesn’t mind.”

“She does.”

“Well I don’t.”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“I’m mildly intoxicated, there’s a difference. My little Ravey took too long to get ready.” Raja smiled and put an arm around Raven’s waist, the two woman posing for pictures together.

"Mildly intoxicated," Raven snorted, feeling Raja pull her closer to her side, her jeweled hand on Raja's exposed back. "Say that to the bottle of wine you sang to in the shower." Raja smiled as she and Raven posed for a group shot with former Elite models Raven used to work with. "Don't judge me, and what I do in the shower." Raja replied, turning her head to whisper in Raven's ear, before nipping at the lobe softly, making Raven grin.

Raven giggled as Raja led them down the carpet and towards the door, waving at old associates and clients. "Look, Tom’s here, I love Tom," Raja said with a bright smile, watching the tall male walk in their direction with his husband Richard.

"Mr. Ford, it's always a pleasure to see you in your classic black and white," the retired model greeted warmly, kissing Tom on both cheeks.

"The Dragon Lady,” Tom laughed. "You look like a sin in red, and not a day over 30.”

Raja rolled her eyes, a playful look still on her face, the wine in her blood making her loose and easy to be around, “I love black and gold, but sometimes even I have to switch it up."

"Or you’re just the most thoughtful fiancée in all of New York.” Raven smiled. “Also I threatened her of she didn’t change since I wanted to wear black tonight.” Raven twirled, giving everyone a look at her skin tight dress.

"The beautiful dark goddess of New York," Tom greeted, gently taking Raven's hand in his, kissing her knuckles. "You look absolutely ravishing in black Raven."

"Is Thomas always this charming or is he being naughty?" Raven asked playfully to Richard, who gave Raven a warm hug and smile.

"Well you know how he is," Richard began, "get a few glasses of champagne in him and suddenly he turns into the most charming man in the world." The shorter man said with a laugh as Tom pouted, going on about always being charming.

"It's ok Tom," Raja said "I made sure that there is a bottle of champagne with your name on it at the wedding."

"See, this is why you're the wife I always needed but never wanted," Tom replied, embracing the tall woman, spinning around with her. "You know me so well!"

Raja laughed as she spun around with her longtime friend; they went from having a working model/designer relationship, to friendly yet competitive designers and now friends who drink and brunch. "Oh Tom, you know your 'on set wife' couldn't forget about your champagne, that's like… not having red wine with lunch."

"Absolutely unheard of," Tom replied with a conspiratorial smile with Raja, before the duo burst into peals laughter. "Especially at an infamous Amrull Twins event. Remember Halloween 2009?"

"That party was blackout amazing and definitely one for the books."

"But we all know the wedding of the year will top it all won't it, Rave?" Richard asked Raven who smiled brightly. "

"The only event that can top my wedding is Princess Kate and Prince William," Raven said with a wave of her hand. "And that is only by default of royal status."

"Raven insisted on having gold dipped roses on everything, and importing Italian and Swiss chocolates to give with her wedding favors." Raja supplied, wrapping her arm around Raven's shoulders, kissing her temple softly.

"Why not get a planner? You know so many would have killed to plan your wedding," Tom asked, picking up a glass of champagne from a passing server.

"See I was going to go that route," Raven began, "but I fired the first 3 because they didn't understand my vision and wanted to play too safe. I mean, if I want it all and you're only giving me half, I just don't need that type of negativity in my life."

"Cheers to that," Richard said easily, toasting to Raven.

***

“Want to get a drink?” Adore asked.

“Yeah, but like, I don’t want to be drunk when Jinkx gets here, ‘cause you know, these things are hard enough for her, being in recovery, you know?”

“True,” Adore said. “But she’s not gonna be done at the theatre until like 10:30, and then she still had to change and drive over here, so...what if...what if we get really drunk now, then hit the dance floor, guzzle a bunch of water, and that way we’ll basically have sobered up by the time she arrives?”

Alaska thought for a moment, then nodded. “Sounds totally responsible!”

Adore giggled, pulling her over to the bar.

“Oh, FUCK.”

“What?” Adore asked, concerned, before instructing the bartender, “Two triple tequila shots on the rocks, please.”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just, /Sharon/ is here.”

“Ohhhh…”

“Violet always used to warn me, and I guess she didn’t pass that little tidbit of kindness onto Roxy. Not that it would matter, I just. Ugh, is she coming over here? Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Alaska took a deep breath, steeling her nerves, as her ex girlfriend came strolling towards them, eyes like daggers, a dangerous smirk on her face.

“Alaska…” Sharon’s breathy voice dripped with honey. “What an absolute treat to see your gorgeous face…Don’t you look marvelous?”

“Hi Sharon,” Alaska said stiffly, returning her insincere air kisses.

“This must be your new paramour...well, one of them...such a scandal, Alaska!” Sharon laughed gaily, the sound grating, causing Adore to shrink behind Alaska’s shoulder in fear. “I never took you for such a naughty girl...I guess we’re all capable of surprises, eh?”

Alaska rolled her eyes, making the necessary intros with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “Adore, this is Sharon Needles. Sharon, Adore.”

“Hi,” Adore said meekly, clutching her drink. Had her boo really been in a ten year relationship with this barracuda woman?

“Well aren’t you just the cutest little babydoll ever?” Sharon cooed. “I could just roll you in powdered sugar and lick you you from head to toe.”

Adore grimaced. “Uhhh...hi.”

Sighing tiredly, Alaska attempted to change the subject, giving Adore’s hand a squeeze. “So, any new shows on the horizon?”

“Actually, yes. I’m working on a fantastic new project. Too bad your other girlfriend is busy with Evita, because she’d kill it as the lead. A boozy socialite with a penchant for drama and an appetite for tender young things...type casting, ya know?” Sharon winked.

“Uh, yeah, I think Jinkx is pretty happy with Evita. Her dream role, you know.”

“Oh, I know. She used to talk all about it when we first met. Don’t you remember, she was Lulu when I produced that Cabaret revival...which I’m considering bringing back again, by the way...man, those were some wild times. I mean, I get why you’re with her.” Sharon leaned in, smiled, a wolfish grin, then finished with, “She’s an animal in bed.” She finished the last sip of her martini, not breaking eye contact with Alaska, thoroughly enjoying the stunned expression on the blonde’s face, and then fluttered her lashes and turned on her heel, sailing across the room to greet someone else.

“She...is obviously just fucking with you, Lasky,” Adore said quickly, watching as Alaska grabbed the tumbler off the bar and downed the tequila quickly, hoarsely asking for another. “Alaska, there’s no way that’s--”

Eyes blazing, Alaska whipped her head around. “Oh no?! And why not? I didn’t know Jinkx then, not really. I was just the producer’s girlfriend. And Sharon was certainly capable of cheating. And Jinkx...I mean...I just...maybe she just wasn’t ever going to tell me...maybe…Oh, god…”

Adore wrapped her arms around Alaska’s waist and rested a head on her shoulder, holding her tightly.

“I fucking hate her so much, she ruins everything…” Alaska sniffled, then let out a sob.

“Here…” Adore slid the refreshed drink over to her.

Alaska downed that one too, wincing. “Jesus, that burns.”

“Alaska, gurl, you look stuuuunning!”

Alaska turned her head to see Alyssa Edwards bouncing over to her gleefully, husband on her arm. She managed to pull herself together to exchange pleasantries with her coworker, even somehow remembering that she’d recently had her 5-year wedding anniversary and showing interest in where they were going over the holidays.

As Alyssa and Martin walked away, Alaska sagged against the bar.

“Are you okay?” Adore asked softly.

“No.” Alaska bit her lip, tears filling her eyes. “That was fucking exhausting. I don’t know how much longer I can--”

“Come on...” Adore put an arm around her shoulders and led her away from the bar, determined to find a private spot where they could talk, or if need be, make a quick escape.

***

“Hey, look at you gorgeous ladies!” Juju cooed, sidling up to Fame and giving her a tight squeeze.

“And you’re a vision, my love!” Fame replied.

“Hey,” Detox said. “What am I, chopped liver?”

“You’re a vision, too,” Patrick told him.

“Thank you,” he answered. “You too, bro.”

“You’re both assholes,” Bianca grumbled.

“That’s with her?” Juju asked.

“She’s in the doghouse. She pissed Courtney off,” Fame explained.

Juju laughed. “You’re really on a roll lately. Trying to censor her again?”

“No, she accused her of flirting with a fan,” Fame said.

“Ohhhh, so you’re a hypocrite,” Juju raised her glass in a toast. “Good work. Keep it up, see how that works for you.”

“You’re making this a way bigger deal than it is.”

“Oooookay, if you say so…” Juju and Fame both laughed again.

“Oh, go fuck yourself!”

“Love you too, B!” Juju said, making kissyfaces at her.

***

“Do you want a drink?”

Violet looked up at Sutan, a smile on his face. They had just finished walking the carpet, Violet keeping in the background as Sutan had talked to photographers and fans and done interviews about upcoming Elite season and his plans for the upcoming spring break week was.

“Some champagne?”

“Coming right up.” Sutan gave her cheek a kiss.

“Actually, can you take my phone?” Violet held out her phone, Sutan taking it with a questioning look on his face. “This dress doesn’t have pockets..” Violet and Sutan had both checked their jackets into the wardrobe, Raja and Raven arguing about which one of them that should carry the bag for the night the last time they had seen them.

“Ah. Of course.” Sutan put it in his inner pocket. “It’ll be safe and sound with me.” Sutan left, and Violet watched over the crowd, when she made eye contact with Roy and waved. One of the men Roy was with turned around, and Violet’s entire world came crashing down.

James burst out laughing, clutching Dan’s arm, at Roy’s over-the-top impression of the American Ballet Theatre’s artistic director. “Moooooore draaaaama! More depth! More! More! More!”

“Stop, oh my god, you sound just like her!” he gasped for breath.

“Oh! And, she also said to make sure the doublets didn’t look ‘too gay.’ Like, okay bitch, I think the ship may have sailed already on the embroidered, jewel-encrusted, shoulder-pad containing, peplum-having jackets for your male ballerinas, but we’ll do our best.”

James laughed again. “Seriously.”

Roy’s face lit up. “Oh, there’s the designer I’m trying to woo. You guys have to help me, I’m no use when it comes to sweet talking a woman. Dan, please butch it up for me, you’re our best hope here.” Roy waved to Violet across the room.

“I’ll do my best,” Dan giggled, squaring his shoulders and turning around. That’s when he saw her. Blair. It was her. Without a doubt. She was older, so much older than the last time he had seen her, but he recognised her eyes, the turn of her lip. It was his Blair Dardo, and he knew it. His face turned as white as a ghost, heart pounding in his ears.

“Babe? Are you alright?” James’ voice sounded far away.

It was as if they were frozen in time, eyes locked together, both of them staring, unmoving. And then Blair did what Blair always did best. She turned and ran.

But this time, Dan wasn’t going to let her get away with it that easily. He shoved his glass into James’ hands and took off after her.

“Dan, what are you--Milk!” James called, but Dan ignored him, knowing he’d explain later. Right now, he had one goal and one goal only: find Blair and get some goddamn answers.

#galactica #au aag verse #rpdr fanfiction #my fics

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amarabella33 · 6 years ago

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D&D

Okay so for those of you that know what D&D is and how awesome it is SWEET! You can stop reading now if you would like. However if you don't know what D&D is please continue reading so that you aren't lost in future posts because D&D will be in A LOT of them.

So D&D stands for Dungeons and Dragons (Yes I'm into that kind of Nerdy shit. #SorryNotSorry ) D&D is an RPG based tabletop game that's just awesome as shit. I play with a group of friends and we meet every Saturday and spend anywhere from 3-6 hours playing.

Now I'm going to give you just some oversight on how D&D works and then give you some helpful links and such if you want to learn more about it or even watch it from one of my favorite groups, Critical Role (a group of nerdy ass voice actors that play D&D on stream every Thursday on Twitch. It's pretty fucking awesome and I GUARANTEE you know AT LEAST and if you don't well your childhood wasn't awesome. That's all I'm asking.

So for examples I'm going to use my friends D&D Beyond names instead of their real names. (If you don't know what D&D beyond is, you should. It has all things D&D. Here's the link for you to go check it out. https://www.dndbeyond.com/ )

Okay on to the Examples. We currently have 2 campaigns running The first and longest one is called Dawn of Time. It's a Homebrew (a campaign made up by the person running it. Also know as the DM or GM). Our other campaign is called The Curse of Strahd. It is a premade campaign that you use a book or source to tell you how to run the campaign.

So in Dawn of Time (the Homebrew) we have 5 players and the DM(this stands for Dungeon Master. Some campaigns or groups may also call this person the GM or Game Master. More on him in just a bit)

The DM is Monbo.

He created this campaign and he is basically the store teller. The DM helps the players through the story and gives them choices that could help or hurt them. He also makes the rules. There are basic and standard rules for D&D but most groups also have their own set where they had added or taken away from the basic or even bent them to their liking. That's something that's awesome about being DM you get to make the game what you want it to be. But to keep this rather short I'm going to add a link for you to go ready more about being a DM because there's just SSSOOOOOO much to being a DM. https://www.dndbeyond.com/sources/lmop/introduction then click on dungeon master on the left tool bar)

Now the Players

Amara(which I'll give you a wild guess who this character is played by lol) is played by yours truly AmaraBella

Amara is a Human Sorcerer turned Warlock. She's crazy but utterly loyal to her friends and family. She'll fiercely stand up for what she thinks is right even if it may be wrong. (don't worry you'll get more on each character very soon. I promise)

Next we have Aura played by Darkwater_Pirate

Aura is a Hue(homebrew race) Sorcerer made Wizard. Aura became Amara's best friend after they first meet due to them sharing the same magic. (See in this world magic isn't really a thing so most people when they would start to show signs of magic would be shunned because it wasn't a "Norm") She is a very kindhearted person who will always do what's right. She is also fiercely loyal until you cross her. Then this little Hue is hell on heels. And let me tell you Amara knows all to well the wrath or Aura.

Now there's Rowena Whiteclaw played by gigib_93

Rowena is a Human Barbarian who has a knack for turning into bears. (which just so happens to be one of Amara's worst fears.) She is part of a nomadic tribe of warriors that are just badass. Even though there are times that Amara is utterly terrified of Rowena she has still become a very close friend and Amara considers her family.

Next we have Boul'dar played by Xanderdrax.

Boul'dar is a dwarf fighter that's a complete asshole. However that hasn't kept Amara from growing a liking to him. Boul'dar wants to become a master craftsman and tends to drink... A Lot. He's also very easily pissed off by any short jokes thrown his way. lol

Finally there's Virgoth played by Unburdened.

Virgoth is an Orc Druid who has had a very tragic beginning to life. See before we took a break in this campaign that last about a year and a half, Unburdened actually played a different character in a our group. He was non other then Virgoth's father Gar'Moc(more then likely spelled this wrong due to not have my D&D notes with me) See Virgoth's mother was killed while he was still in her womb. His father asked the water elementals to come and save his son(which they did). We all promised to help Gar'moc save his son and then protect him from the Beltza(the big badies of this campaign) which we (minus Gar'moc) have done since the water elementals placed Virgoth in Rowena's care. Virgoth, bless him, is still much a child given he is only 14 years old. However he has seen some shit and is travel with a group that at times turns into murder hobos so he's not as innocent as you would think for his age. Unless it comes to snu snu (our term for sex and dirty adult time) then he is very much still an innocent.

Now there is one other character that's played by a guest player they I can tell you more about later. but for right now I'm sure your heads are just overflowing with all of this information so I'm going to give you some time to digest everything and read of on some things as well. I'm going to give you links to each of the classes that we as well a picture that shows all of our charters. I'll be posting more about all of the characters in the near future as well as what's going on (we are down to maybe 3 sessions before we are done with this campaign so it will mostly catch up before the WTF is happening in game now).

I hope you guys join this journey with me and have fun as you do so. I'm also going to post a link to Critical Roles twitch channel and I highly recommend catching them on Thursday nights as well as watching them over on their Youtube (I'll also provide this link)

Critical Role Info

Twitch- https://www.twitch.tv/criticalrole

Youtube- https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCpXBGqwsBkpvcYjsJBQ7LEQ

Character Classes

Warlock- https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/warlock

Wizard- https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/wizard

Sorcerer- https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/sorcerer

Barbarian- https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/barbarian

Fighter- https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/fighter

Druid- https://www.dndbeyond.com/classes/druid

Alright thanks guys don't forget #StayAwesome

-Bella

#StayAwesome #D&D #CriticalRole #Homebrew #dndbeyond #player

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zippdementia · 6 years ago

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Part 56 Alignment May Vary: Interlude and Side Quest Suggestions

There is an uneasy feeling as the players stand next to the Ghost Lord in the Lion’s Maw. Where do we go from here? Tyrion, as usual, is the first to break the ice, and he does so bluntly:

“So, you gonna help us kick some ass on the horde now?”

The Ghost Lord laughs and tells the players that, no, he has no intention of joining their fight long term. “Guys like Nazragul, Acererak, they always want to take over the world,” he says. “And where does that get them? A lot of hassle and constant visits from adventurers and would-be do-gooders. Acererak can’t even stay on this plane of existence he has so many enemies. And Nazragul? He’s in a hole. I set my sights on simpler things. My experiments. Maybe being left alone isn’t a grand goal, but I’ll tell you, long after everyone else has died chasing their damned grand goals, I’ll still be here, laughing as I watch the world turn.”

The Ghost Lord does agree to help Nazragul reshape his soul jar into something more sensible than the giant mass of muscle and tissue and undead organs that is currently growing out of Lady Dagger’s tortured body in the Maaken Temple.

“He never was much of a craftsmen,” The Ghost Lord grouses.

So the party travels with the Ghost Lord back across the Thornwaste. With the Ghost Lord at their side the journey is quick. The land itself opens up before his passage, the myriad thorns and other hazards retreating at his approach. He truly is the master of this land.

At the edge of the Thornwaste the players come across a character they have not met since the early days of the campaign: Joachim, the elderly and mysterious Yellow Robed Elf. While the Ghost Lord and Trellara hang back, so as not to terrify the travelers, the three more normal companions (nevermind Tyrion’s blue skin) join Joachim and his troop of bodyguards at his fire and have a strange conversation with him. Joachim speaks directly to Aldric (when the knight takes a break from flirting with the female mercenary, who brushes him off by saying she’s been married for 367 years) who asks if the elf knows anything about the creature that attacked Adlric’s troop and whom he had tracked into the Thornwaste.

Joachim does, in fact, know about it. It is a Behir, he tells Aldric, a creature that usually detests dragons yet for some reason is claiming to be the mother of the Dragonlord leading the Red Hand. This particular Behir is ancient, having plagued the Elsir Vale for a millenia. Whether Aldric will be the one to bring her down has not yet been seen in the stars.

Joachim also speaks to Nysyries, telling her that soon she will have to make a choice. She will know the moment when she is there and it will represent a cross roads in her life. What happens from that point forward will be up to her. They are cryptic words, and Nazragul shifts inside of her as they are spoken.

Finally, Joachim tells them that they are on the very edge of greatness, that there are three weapons very nearby that can be used to help them secure victory over the hoard. They used to reside in old Rhest and contributed to the land’s downfall in civil strife. He tells them that these weapons now reside with the dwarves in the southern mountains and that these weapons will be instrumental in fighting and defeating the Red Hand. With a flourish, he spreads a special powder into the fire and the flames rear up black and ominous as he looks at Aldric and speaks of the first weapon.

As Joachim speaks, the three grow more and more tired and suddenly realize that Joachim has placed a sleeping powder in the fire. The three pass out then awaken in the morning to find the others gone... except for one male mercenary left tied up like a hog for slaughter--a gift from Joachim to Nysyries, a gift that casts his alignment and goals in an even deeper mystery.

Setting the Side Quest: White Plume Mountain

The three weapons that Joachim tells them of are from White Plume Mountain.

One consistent problem with the original Red Hand of Doom module is its transitions between chapters. The best D&D adventures have either plot hooks that pull its character inexorably towards the next big thing after each chapter or have a hub city or NPC where more quests can be given. Red Hand has the problem of its hub city getting destroyed in the first chapter and, for the most part, of lacking compelling hooks. This problem is tied into the fact that every major adventure in the campaign is essentially a big side quest. Going to Rhest and going to the Ghost Lord’s lair does have an effect on the final battle and does bring players in direct conflict with their foe, the Red Hand, but it also leads to a dead end each time, always returning players to the “let’s get to Brindol” plot line afterwards. Because players know about Brindol from the start and don’t find out about this plan gradually, the plot can get a little stale as the main goal never changes.

I didn’t notice some of these problems until recently. The campaign gets touted so often as one of the best that I went in with some blinders on. Also, it is constantly complained about for being too easy, a complaint that I took to heart in my redesign but one which I’m not sure I actually agree with any more. Or rather, I do think as built it is an easy campaign, but I also think that is part of what makes it work. I think this campaign is supposed to make the players feel like they are stomping through the horde at each turn, bringing down dragons and lieutenants of the horde. You can tell this was the intent because at each step of the way, players are punished for not doing this! If they aren’t aggressive enough, the horde marshals its full strength at the Battle of Brindol and is much harder to defeat. If you take these victories away from the players or make them too challenging, then what you end up with is a campaign where the players are doing things to systemically make the horde weaker, but they are not doing anything to make themselves feel stronger.

Some of the problems I mentioned with the campaign I’ve addressed. Nazragul’s Maakengorge became my stand-in hub to keep the story moving. And I’ve pretty much eschewed the in-book timer to countdown to the horde’s arrival at Brindol. It’s a cool idea, but there just isn’t enough exciting things to do in all the time the module gives you to make this work. Chasing the horde across the land discourages players from going to Rhest and the Thornwaste and isn’t very much fun besides, mostly a series of random encounters with the horde. So get rid of that time system and just go with “the horde travels at plot speed.”

The one problem I didn’t address, and in fact probably contributed to creating, was the feeling of player weakness. Red Hand doesn’t need to be harder. At least pieces of it don’t. The Ghost Lord should be near impossible to fight. And taking on the whole horde at once should be a death sentence. Doing stupid things in Rhest and bringing the whole place down on you should be a bad idea. But the rank and file should feel easy and the lieutenants and dragons should be defeatable. It’s not individual encounters like this that are impressive about the horde: it’s their sheer size. Let the players feel like they are way above these fights but anytime they get close to the main army, its sheer size should turn them away. That’s when you shouldn’t be afraid to throw six chimera and two dozen hobgoblins at them (buff their health and proficiencies here if you need to to make them a bigger threat).

In any case, it’s not like my campaign has been a failure because of this. The players respect the horde and they’ve become good villains for them, too. They are really eager to defeat them at Brindol and I’m very much looking forward to that clash. We’ve also got to have some very tactical battles because of the challenge and some incredible close calls, like Nysyries blowing up the bridge. But because of the difficulty I made the campaign overall, it’s time to give the players something back, to make them feel like more than pawns on this chess board. They should at least be rooks *wink*

To that end, one final side quest before Brindol is in order. And the dwarves make a great catalyst for it. Honestly, I was surprised when the original module didn’t offer up the Dwarves in the Wyvernwatch mountains as a side quest post-Thornwaste. I literally thought I was missing a piece of the book. The mountains are right next to the Thornwaste and the Dwarves have already been given a plot hook back in the Witchwood where the payment for their services as mercenaries to Brindol had been waylaid. I thought that plot hook would be followed up by a short Dwarven adventure later on, maybe something that involved delving deep into the mountain to kill a Dragon and seize its treasure or recover some material to help the dwaves forge a mighty weapon to fight the Horde.

What I’m basically saying is that you should add a dwarven adventure into your own campaign at this point in the campaign. It’s too good of an opportunity to flesh out the world and as a story beat it creates a wonderful mirror of the “ally gathering” that happened in Rhest. That was an elvish adventure, now they get a dwarven adventure. If the players manage to recruit both races to the cause than it feels like a true alliance of good vs. evil, where all races have put aside their differences to face the Red Horde. It really builds up that final confrontation well!

As far as actual adventures go, make up your own if you’d like, or select something appropriate from the plethora of choices in DnD’s back catalog or from third-party creators on DMs Guild. Some suggestions include:

Anything from a suitable adventure’s league. These adventures are always easy to fit into any campaign. Just find one of the appropriate level that interests you and *bam* you have a two to three hour session ready to go. You can easily change major NPCs to dwarves and the location to match the Wyvernatch.

Glitterdoom, from Goodman Games. It’s a nice little Dwarven mine adventure. You’ll probably have to change out some of the encounters to make it level appropriate, though: it’s too easy at level 3.

Forge of Fury, from Tales of the Yawning Portal, especially if your party is a little bit less leveled than mine. You might still have to bump up some encounters to match the challenge you want, but this is a perfectly themed adventure.

A side quest from Rise of Tiamet. That book is basically made up of side adventures, just grab one that feels good and change the setting and NPCs to dwarves. It’s already dragon-themed and is basically the redux of Red Hand of Doom already. They should already be pretty much level appropriate.

For myself, I chose White Plume Mountain from Tales of the Yawning Portal. I think it is the perfect side quest for this campaign and we will get into why, and some of the changes I’ve made to it, next time.

Other suggestions are welcome, for good side adventures! Just post a reply. I’m always looking for good side adventures.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #5e #White Plume #Red Hand of Doom

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