#3: lit. little lead soldier
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Α ναι, οι πολυαγαπημένοι μου βολβοί¹, οι Μηχανισμοί!
Τζόνυ Δι'άβολος (Jonny Thi'avolos)
Μπαρούτης Τιμ (Barútis Tim)
Τασία Ρασπούτινα (Tasía Raspútina)
Ραφαέλλα Δι'άσκεψη² (Rafaella Thi'askepsi)
Μάριος απτό Διάστημα (Marios apto Diástima)
Μπριαν το Ταμπουρλομπότ (Brian to Tamburlobot)
Το Μολυβένιο Στρατιωτάκι³ (To Molivénio Stratiotáki)
Κισσός ο Αλεξανδρινός⁴ (Kissos o Alexandrinos)
Στάχτες Ο'Ράιλι (Stakhtes O'Reilly)
oh ja meine lieblings Blorbonen, die Mechaniker
es gibt
Johannes von Toifel
Schießpulver Tim
Anna Rasputina
Raphaella zu Denken
Marius von Raum
Trommelroboter Gehirn
Der Spielzeug Soldat
Efeu Bücherei
Asche O'reily
was für tolle namen für eine Bande an unsterblichen weltraum Piraten
#notes cause im a nerd: 1) not an actual transcription of blorbo technically that would be βλορβοί. βολβοί is a private joke meaning bulb#2: δι(literal transcription of di)-#α(conmective)-σκέψη(thought). an (un)fortunate side effect of this is that διασκεψη also means conference#3: lit. little lead soldier#4: lit. alexandrian ivy. i think thats a thing that exists.#the mechanisms#also this romanisation HURT me to writ#its not very good
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hai bonni <33 this is my first reqs 4u and im sry in advance if it's kinda of cringe 😭 (i came here from yr simon fic btw nd i luv ur writinggg) wht do u think abt simon being tired as hell coming back home from his mission and literally melts into reader's arms?
HELLO DEAR ANON ! thanks for requesting and no, it's not cringe dw i LOVE it. also ty for loving my writing that literally made my day sm >< enjoy this!
PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader
OVERVIEW: Simon melting into your arms after a rough day at work <//3
C/W: Entirely fluff + kisses
Simon had a long day at work and was feeling tired and stressed. He started his car and drove home, feeling the tension in his shoulders and back. As he pulled into his driveway, he saw you standing on the porch, waiting for him.
You smiled and walked towards him, your arms outstretched. Simon stumbled out of his car and into your arms, letting out a deep sigh of relief. He felt the tension in his body melt away as you held him close, your warmth and comfort surrounding him.
"Welcome home, Simon," you whispered, resting your head on his chest.
"Thanks." Simon replied, wrapping his arms around you and taking a deep breath.
The warmth of your body against his, your breathing against his ear, all of it was like a balm for his soul. He let go of the tension in his muscles and let himself melt into you. Your warmth and love surrounded him, making him feel safe and protected.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling you hug him tightly.
"I missed you," he breathed, his voice barely audible. "Missed you so much."
"I missed you too, Si'," you replied, your voice full of love.
For a moment, nothing else mattered but your embrace and the love that you shared. The weight of the world seemed to fade away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment. And in that moment, he knew that everything was going to be alright.
"Hey," you said, leading him towards the house. "Let's go inside, okay?"
You helped him inside, guiding him to the couch, where you could hear him release another deep sigh.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" you asked, sitting beside him. "Food? Um, what about some tea? I think that will help you loosen u-"
Simon reached for your hand and gently squeezed it. "Just you being here is enough, love." he replied.
"I'm always here for you, Simon," you said, giving his hand a squeeze back.
You leaned into his embrace, pressing a soft kiss against his stubble-roughened cheek. The gesture was gentle, yet full of meaning. Simon felt a warmth spreading from his cheek to the rest of his body, your love surrounding him like a blanket.
He closed his eyes and savored the moment, letting himself be fully present in your embrace. He could hear your heartbeat against his chest, and the sensation was soothing and calming.
You reached out and pulled his balaclava up, revealing his mouth. A quick peck and his face lit up with a smile, his eyes sparkling with joy.
You watched as he became more and more beaming, his mouth turning into a grin as you removed the balaclava. "There he is," you said softly, your voice filled with affection. You giggled, teasing him as you added, "My little baby soldier."
Simon's eyes were fixed on you, filled with a sense of pure adoration and love. He was grateful to have someone who accepted him for who he was, especially coming home from a long and difficult mission.
"Baby soldier?" He asked.
"Yeah, well, aren't you one, my love?"
"I am so not a baby soldier."
"Oh, damn you're right." You replied with faux surprise. You leaned into him, cupping his cheeks and squeezing them together.
Then you added, whispering as you do so, "You're my little baby lieutenant, aren't you, Si'?"
You feel Simon inhale and see him averting his gaze. You giggled at him and kissed both of his cheeks.
Simon cannot bring himself to retort any longer as he completely melts into your kisses and embrace. If you said he's a little baby lieutenant, then for god's sake, he is.
It was a moment of pure serenity, of pure love. And Simon knew that he would always cherish it, a beacon of solace in the midst of the chaos of the world.
And then, as if driven by an instinctive need to express the depth of his emotions, he pulled you closer, holding you in his arms, his touch firm and passionate.
"I love you," he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. But there was no question about the sincerity of his words, the longing in his eyes as he looked at you. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.
"I love you too," you replied, your own voice just as genuine. And with those words, Simon knew that everything was going to be alright.
#👾 — [bonnie’s wk]#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley imagine#simon x reader#cod x you#ghost cod#cod fanfic#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost fluff#simon riley#simon riley fluff#cod fluff#simon ghost riley#call of duty#call of duty x reader
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Letters Of Love (3)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
650 Words.
With each minute that passed, you felt a mix of anxiety and exhilaration. You clutched the small bouquet of daisies you had picked from the market earlier, your fingers brushing against the petals like a silent proclamation of love and hope. The station buzzed with families reuniting, laughter echoing around you, and excitement danced in the air. Finally, with a loud whistle, the train pulled into the station, steam billowing, and wheels screeching against metal. The crowd surged forward, but you stood still, scanning the faces as soldiers disembarked, each step bringing them closer to beloved homes. And then, there he was. Bucky emerged from the throng, looking every bit as handsome as you remembered, though the lines on his face and the glimmer in his eyes spoke of the experiences he endured. Time seemed to suspend as your eyes locked onto his. It was like a scene pulled straight from a movie. With a sudden rush of adrenaline, you broke from the throng and sprinted toward him, tears of joy blurring your vision. “Bucky!” You shouted, your voice barely cutting through the din of the crowd. His expression transformed, a mix of disbelief and elation. He dropped his duffel bag and opened his arms wide, and in the next heartbeat, you were enveloped in his embrace. The world around you faded into a distant hum, leaving just the two of you in your own universe. Your lips met in a kiss that felt both electric and warm, filled with longing and love that had built up through countless letters and missed days. It was a kiss of homecoming, of all the promises silently made and now fulfilled. When you finally pulled away, Bucky beamed down at you, his blue eyes sparkling with warmth. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he murmured, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “I missed you, Y/N.” “I missed you too,” you breathed, overwhelmed with happiness. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.” He stepped back slightly, looking at you with a newfound intensity. “You look… amazing. Like spring came just for you,” he said, his voice soft and sincere, making your heart flutter. “And you look like you just survived a war,” you teased gently, trying to lighten the mood even as your heart swelled with pride for him. “How was it?” Bucky ran a hand through his hair, a hint of weight settling back onto his shoulders. “It was tough, but knowing you were out there waiting for me made it bearable,” he confessed, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Your letters kept me going.” You stepped closer to him, intertwining your fingers. “I wrote as often as I could, imagining you reading them,” you said softly. “I felt like I was right there with you, somehow.” “Believe me, you were,” he replied, glancing down at your hands intertwined with his. “Now that I’m back, I want to make up for lost time. I want to be with you - no more waiting.” Your heart raced at his words, a smile spreading across your face like sunshine breaking through clouds. “Then let’s start now. I want to show you the Brooklyn I’ve been living in while you were away,” you offered. He nodded, his expression brightening. “Lead the way, doll.” As you walked side by side through the bustling station, you felt the promise of a new beginning fill the air around you. No longer were you just friends separated by distance; now, you were sharing something deeper, something that had been waiting to bloom amidst the waiting and longing. You found yourself stealing glances at him, studying the way he laughed, the way his eyes lit up at the little everyday things he had missed. You stopped occasionally to point out small things in the neighbourhood, and he listened intently, his admiration clear as he absorbed everything you had experienced.
#marvel fluff#bucky barnes x reader#bucky fanfic#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fluff#mcu bucky barnes#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic#soft bucky#40s bucky#40s#marvel fics#marvel#mcu#mcu fanfiction#mcu fic
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imagine soap recognizing that you’re stressed out with your current work and he knows you guys can’t leave base so he sets up a blanket and pillows outside for you to stargaze -
| no warnings just fluff and jokes, reader calls ghost gay (real) , can be interpreted however you want (gn reader, f!reader, m!reader), can be platonic or romantic although my intentions are leaning on a romantic bond. dialogue color code: soap: light blue, price: purple, ghost: red, gaz: green(can you guys tell that i love them and want to put them all in my pocket) | • this is generally a softer portrayal of the guys, if u aren’t into that sorta thing that’s cool just a heads up •
“ca’mere lassie, wanna show you sumthin”
he leads you outside by the hand and you’re met with a little blanketed area on the soft grass , plush pillows and he’s even lit your favorite candles / incense - he lays down and opens his arms for you to join him and you both wrap your arms around eachother - your legs intertwined being as close as possible - feeling his heartbeat against you.
“i know there’s not much we can do here sweetness, and this may be cheesy but i know how much ye love random surprises, just wanted to give you a little change of routine tis all”
you scrunch your eyebrows at him saying it’s cheesy, “you do know i’m a sucker for anything cutesy you do johnny, but this is so sweet, look how bright the stars look! so pretty.”
“they look wonderful but they’re nothing compared to you bonnie, you’re my stars, my moon, my world, hell- the entire universe and you’ve made my life infinitely better”
you give him a pout and scooch up to give him a kiss, “nothing i say can be better than that, but just know i love you too and-“ you’re stuttering now and he chuckles “and- i agree but l- yknow- that- i-“ you take a quick pause and he nods at you teasingly, “you’re my world.”
the guys find you two outside and you end up finding yourself all together sharing the moment now, so of course you all have to adjust and make room.
your head is laying on soaps shoulder while he has his arm wrapped around you, price has his head laid against your legs, gaz is behind the 3 of you with his head on the same pillow soaps head is on but he’s laying on the opposite side and ghost is sitting criss cross (apple sauce ofc) by you all.
price lights his cigar and takes a deep sigh - tension leaving his body as he relaxes his shoulders .
“ya know y/n, you really do know how to bring us all together in your own goofy way.”
“WHAT?! I SET THIS UP?” soap replies and you gaz and ghost laugh.
“yeah was all him, not me cap’n! i swear!”
“ah yes, if it were you- there would’ve been tea.” he flicks the ash off the end of his cigar
soap rolls his eyes, “fuckin brits . . . never tired of the damn tea”
you don’t know how but you all end up out there all night - sharing jokes and stories, childhood memories, playfully making fun of eachother and cuddling like chumps, price asking you to run your hands through his scalp and huffing anytime you stop (like when a dog side eyes you as you stop petting them) and then quickly smiling when you continue - you even caught simon swinging his legs while you were sharing scary stories and you and gaz almost died of laughter
“that shit was gay as hell” and he just rolls his eyes and grunts
but what did it for soap was the fact that gaz starts snorting with his laugh, and you’re wheezing.
these men were known to be very intimidating scary beings, soldiers and fighters first - but ever since you joined them they started remembering to have more fun - being that they joined this line of work so early in their lives they lost most of the opportunity to just exist and be. after the shit they’ve been through in their lives, you manage to just strengthen the faith they have in humanity with your caring tendencies.
after a while you can hear price snoring and ghost lets out a “heh, the old man’s fell asleep”
price slurs out a tired “m’not sleepin- just resting my eyes soldier.”
“right, i too snore when i “”rest my eyes”” sir” gaz says,
you just shush them and giggle but lightly, not to stir price since he’s against you still, arm now wrapped around your leg.
#drabble that is very sloppy#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#task force 141 x you#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#johnny mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#john price#captain price#captain john price#jonathan price#captain johnathan price#ghost#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost simon riley#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#gaz kyle garrick#Spotify
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Writeblr Intro circa 2024
Hi writeblr!! Sooo, I've been around here since about 2014. (Yes, I am ancient.) However, I've been dormant for the past 4-5 years. Blame college and a brief stint on Twitter. Now that I'm active again, I thought I should make an updated writeblr intro so ppl know my Deal. Basically, I want to engage with other folks who write fiction (esp original SF), and that's a little easier if I have a clear post that outlines what I do. Here to make connections and hear about your blorbos :)
About me
Hi, I'm Vee! They/them, 23, 💖 🤍 🧡
I do journalism/comms in western New York
My literary jam is feminist/adult SF and gothic lit (OG or modern) 🥀 ⚔️ 🌙
Enthusiastic about gay people, body horror, and sociopolitical allegories
I cook, run, play tabletop games, and occasionally draw. Other than that, I'm mostly writing (for work and for fun)
If you were on pre-2020 writeblr, you likely know me from my eight billion daily tag games. (I still like tag games and appreciate u for tagging me. I have also gained adult responsibilities and better mental health, so I respond very slowly now. <3)
Always happy to get asks or dms, tho as I've noted: I may reply slowly.
Sometimes open to beta read! I only read one longer project at a time, but it's always super fun :)
I tag very consistently – happy to tag triggers for followers/moots
Fun fact: I love mushroom hunting and worked as a mycology TA. #cottagecoreera 🍄 🧚♀️ 🌱
About my creative writing
I write,,,, feminist/adult SF with gothic leanings (surprise!)
Longform and short! Trying to do more short writing this year, and I'll likely share a bit on Tumblr. It's easier to clip a short story than a 150k novel, god bless.
The Aesthetic: moral g(r)ays, Victoriana, androids/cyborgs, Women™, monstrous femininity, incessant Hamlet/Frankenstein motifs, extremely boring socioeconomic worldbuilding, evil queens and/or dilfs, psychosexual witchcraft, probably a cat. Also, an ominous, plot-relevant letter laced with anthrax from your unhinged and brilliant ex-wife. Open if you dare.
Major projects
I'm going to be writing some short work this year, but these are the longer projects that I have going in the background. If I reblog blorbo-related text posts, they probably have something to do with these.
Let me know if you want to be added to any project-specific taglists 😎
Heart of Lead – Series
The big one
Perpetually evolving
Never ceasing
Pls send help I can't stop adding shit
5-book gothic fantasy epic that I'll definitely publish one day but probably no time soon! My bastard child, my wicked firstborn, my greatest love <3
Character-oriented political drama set in a pseudo-Victorian, dystopian oligarchy where everyone's heart is made out of metal. It's about coming of age and discovering queer identity in a world that is absolutely fucked. God is an extraterrestrial lesbian who gives ppl very traumatizing magic powers. There are cyborgs, shapeshifters, and morally gray women in STEM. It's tight as fuck idk what else what to tell u.
Book 1 is about achillean monarchists, and book 2 is about sapphic anarchists. There are only two genders, I guess.
At this point, I've drafted most of the books at least once. Working to refine a lot of raw material atm!
Tag: "heart of lead tag" or "hol tag"
Lost Letters – Book
Aka the current active HoL WIP, and book one in the revised series structure
Length: 80k as of now; around 120-140k when the first draft is finished, I presume.
Genre: adult fantasy, gothic, noir detective drama?? um?? If you want me to frame it in BookTok terms (why?) it's a dark academia villain x villain tragic romantasy. Hrgh.
Summary: Cyborg soldier goes to college, joins a shady socialite frat, and falls in love with the jilted heir-apparent to the throne. Hilarity ensues.
(By "hilarity," I mean a militant revolutionary faction and a tragedy of Greek proportions.)
POV characters: Charles (the cyborg), Dale (the heir), and Cecelia (Charles' sister, a junior detective, the love of my life and potentially the Chosen One???)
This book is twisty and dark and immensely fun to write.
I'm about halfway through the first full draft! Hoping to share snippets and vaguepost about my children here.
Tag: "lost letters tag" (also "hol tag," tho that one's less specific)
The Last of Mortal Tourists – Book
The next longform project on the docket!
Length: a standalone work that will hopefully fall on the shorter novel/novella spectrum.
Genre: literary SF, cyberqueer, psychological space quest
Summary: The consciousness of a dead coding genius, trapped inside a spaceship, seeks a new planet to sustain their sister, the last surviving human, after the destruction of Earth.
If you're here to get wildly philosophical about gender and the myth of essential self, this is the story for you! That's why I'm writing it, lol. 🏳️⚧️ 🚀 🤖
This one started out as a short story (100% finished) which I want to expand.
POV: Archer Alto, the coder. Spaceship? Human? Soul?
Supporting Cast: Pandora, the last human, and Abby, a holographic impression of Archer's childhood consciousness
Tag: "the last of mortal tourists tag" or "tlomt tag"
If you read all this way, you get a whole bouquet of flowers that are certainly NOT poisonous: 🌸 🌹 💐 🥀 🌺
<3
#writeblr#writing#writeblr intro#for my mutuals#scribble-dee-vee#project intro#hi writeblr!#original post#hol tag#heart of lead tag#lost letters tag#tlomt tag#pls feel free to tell me abt u in tags/replies!!#would love to expand my active writeblr connections#and yah like I said lmk about those tag lists#I def want to post more snippets/tags this year
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...so three (3) of you were nice to me and i blacked out and word vomited two documents of scene mapping and worldbuilding. my ideas are still jumbled, so here's what i have ambitions for as copy-pasted from ren and I's dms:
long post, all non-canon, lots of blabbering, but i'm happy about it below.
reworked dark crystals, new dungeons, and new archfiends! archfiend names are open to constructive criticism lol
- mist pass: the still-in-progress passage that workers of both baron and damcyan attempted to construct after the collapse of the mountains per Rydia's titan summon. soldiers and workers kept disappearing, so eventually damcyan and baron just quit sending people there and deemed the place cursed. time passed as cecil and the crew ventured to try and save more crystals, and holy elemental creatures began making their home there. this includes Seraphitz, archfiend of light, a creature in possession of the light crystal that was corrupted by its holy power.
- adamant mines: different from whatever was in tay bc screw tay. the crystal of energy is kept well hidden in the labyrinthine mines that connect to the underworld as a sort of back entrance. the adamant ore is difficult to harness amidst all the lightning-elemental monsters, thus the mines are largely abandoned. ghostly automatons trudge around poorly-lit tunnels with too many corners, all of which condense and lead to statigge (stati-jey), archfiend of thunder and guardian of the energy crystal.
- serpent's lair: a winding undersea shipyard (in an underwater passage connecting the overworld and underworld) littered with many a ship lost to the sea. it is suspected that this was cagnazzo's domain, forgone as he took control of baron under Golbezemus' command. the deeper the party travels, the colder the air grows and the more ice monsters begin appearing. ghiaccio, archfiend of ice, has seized control of the area and is not keen on trespassers.
- the sealed cave: it pretty well stays the way it is, except the demon wall boss happens on the way *to* the shadow crystal, the prize of the dungeon. after the crystal is acquired, the party is revitalized by the crystal (and are confused by such) only to find malnotte, archfiend of shadow, waiting for them outside where the demon wall was originally fought.
other ideas:
- the tower of zot is actually a dreadnought protected by heavy winds from barbariccia, which is why it can't be seen on the world map. when barbariccia destroys the place after her defeat, the dreadnought falls into the sea off the southern coast of troia. it can be explored as an optional dungeon later (ruins of zot).
- something new has to happen with mt hobbs. it's so big with so little significance. i need to concoct something to happen there.
- i also want to revise travel mechanisms. i now need something for underwater travel, or perhaps rydia and leviathan can work something out and he can big snake bus the party down to the ice dungeon or ruins of zot. chocobos imo are underutilized, esp the black chocobo, as well as the hovercraft from edward. we get not one not two but THREE airships and only three narrative-required deviations from airships to reach dungeons.
- the devil's road should not be a mini-dungeon like in tay, but instead function similarly to teleport in ff2: the party loses significant health after passing through. it's killed people before, those who passed through and didn't possess the vitality, and that's why it was sealed off.
- if anyone has an ffiv oc, please let me know!! i want to write them in!! i want to give more life to the villages and towns. i already intend to write in some friends here on ffiv tumblr as shopkeepers, innkeepers, or just townsfolk!! you wanna be a hummingway? be a hummingway!!! LMK!!!!!
this is only a few ideas i have. please let me know your thoughts!
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To Make a Heaven of Hell (9/?)
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Virgil finds himself in the residential levels of hell in need of a certain heroic incubus after running from his teasing friends.
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| <- Previous | First | Next -> |
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Chapter warnings: A person being a little creepy with flirting and not backing off
Notes: Okay I have absolutely no excuse for this one taking me like seven months fdjslfjds uhhh oops??
Hell's Belles coming back from hiatus definitely sparked this again - though this fic is definitely set a little bit behind the canon point of the series haha, so Ruggy and Sharkie won't be reincarnating in this fic for a little while <3
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“Soooo…” Angel said, looking at Virgil in a way that he knew meant he was about to get teased within an inch of his life, “Did’ja get his number?”
Okay, maybe less teasing and more right to killing him by fluster overload.
“I- wha- huh-” Virgil stammered, their face bright red whilst Angel cornered them in the break room, he attempted to recover, but it didn’t really go very well, “Wha- I mean, who- who’s number? What’s a number? What’s a phone-”
Angel burst out into giggles just as Penny came into the break room too - finally, someone reasonable.
“Miss Penny please save me-” Virgil basically begged, making Angel laugh harder.
“Well-” Penny started, “Did you?”
“Did I what?” Virgil asked, the moment he said it he knew this was a trap.
“Get the cute demon’s number?” She asked with a teasing grin. Virgil groaned.
“Yes - okay! Yes I got his number!” Virgil cried, “It’s not even that special he was already in the goddamn group chat.”
“Oh,” Angel said, “Right.”
“Yeah. Right,” Virgil grumbled, before getting up and grabbing a cookie and storming out of the break room.
He wasn’t actually that upset - he’d text them both in a minute to make sure they knew, but they just couldn’t handle the teasing in the moment. The heat on his cheeks had gotten too much for him.
Not to mention thinking about Roman too much always seemed to lead to thoughts he shouldn’t be having in public.
But then again, he’d seen the books Lily read. Maybe his thoughts weren’t that bad.
“Hey Vee!” Sharkie called, “Where’s my desk buddy going?”
“Dunno,” Virgil called back as he stormed off, “I’ll be back later, call if you need me.”
“Oh - okay! Everything okay?” They called, Virgil glanced back to see them ignoring some random person at the desk, looking over at him in confusion. Virgil clutched his phone in his jacket pocket and nodded.
“Yeah just - need a break,” he said, waving them off with one had before heading for the elevator that would take him deeper into hell.
“Do you think we really upset him?” He heard distantly from who he thought might have been Angel.
—-
Virgil had never been down to the residential levels of hell before.
Lily and the others had told him all about them. Roughly they knew what to expect when they stepped off of the elevator. The hustle and bustle being primarily made up of demons was something he definitely expected, all sorts of different people - just like the demons he saw in the lobby but so many more of them. These people too seemed less scarred, he supposed a lot of the front gate demons were retired soldiers after all.
There were kids here, younger than Dante, some who were barely toddlers and a few in whom he saw himself - the fears he had had when he was first starting school, when he was taking his finals. Somehow, though, no-one looked miserable as he made his way aimlessly through the streets - looking for anything to take his mind off of his thoughts and, more importantly, feelings. They supposed afterlife school was probably easier than mortal world school.
Virgil saw a coffee shop across the road and sighed. That was good enough. Warm light spilled through the open doorway, the interior was dark but not gloomy - lit with warm yellow lights that weren’t too bright or fluorescent. Bioluminescent flowers sat in vases on the windowsill and the counter - providing extra lighting under the menu and in the window booths for those who were coming to work on something.
Right now though, the cafe wasn’t too busy. Less than half of the tables were filled and the single demon working at the counter didn’t look overworked or stressed in the slightest. In fact, they waved Virgil over when they saw him standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“Hey handsome! Welcome to Brewed Brimstone Cafe!” They said brightly with a wave, their forest green skin shimmering in the light from the flowers, they upt their hand on their hip and give him a flirty look - making Virgil frown, “See anything that takes your fancy today?”
“Just um -” The introduction had thrown him off, the immediate compliment and the flirting - what was that about? His eyes darted to the menu but he had no room to process that in his mind right now, “-Can I just have the sweetest iced coffee you’ve got?” Virgil asked, stepping up to the counter and tilting their head. The demon hummed and turned to look at the ingredients they seemed to have on offer.
“Ahh, sweet tooth, I can get behind that - I’m sure I can whip something perfect up for you! How ‘bout you sit that cute little butt down over there and I’ll bring it over for you since it’s not busy?”
“Oh - um, thank you,” Virgil said with a small, polite but awkward smile, going over to sit down at a two person table and pulling out their phone. They shot a quick text over to Penny and Angel to let them know they weren't upset. He’d just… gotten anxious and ran off. That was his fault and not theirs.
—-
“Hey hon, you look a little down there, everything okay?” The barista demon asked a few minutes later as they placed down a tall glass full of something pale with a whole heap of cream, marshmallows and chocolate powder on top.
“Yeah, everythings fine,” Virgil said, shaking his head. The demon put a straw into his drink before hopping up again.
“You sure? I’ve been told I give great advice,” they say, winking as they pull a napkin out of the pocket of their apron and fold it neatly before placing it next to Virgil’s drink. They leaned over and looked at him - as if waiting for him to tell them what was going on. Well, fat chance. Virgil didn’t even know this person - and honestly they were starting to make him a little uncomfortable with the persistent flirting despite Virgil’s complete lack of reciprocation.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Virgil said, nodding before taking a sip of his drink. It was really good - he did want to stay and finish it, of course, but part of him really wanted to get out of here.
“Okay well, anything you need, okay?” They asked with a wink. Virgil nodded slowly before looking down at his phone again as a couple walked in through the door and they hurried back to the bar.
Virgil wanted out of here - or at least the situation, but they didn’t want to leave their drink nor the cafe. This seemed like the perfect place to relax if it wasn’t for… the barista who was giving him an odd look - it almost looked like that same look Lily gave Bell sometimes before they ran off to do… things. Virgil didn’t particularly like having that look directed at him, especially not by a stranger. Yeah, he didn’t think staying here alone with his problem saying no to people was going to be a good idea.
He could text someone at the desk, he was sure they would come and rescue him, but they were all working… Bell was training, Greg was down in Level 9, Remus was off in a different realm somewhere, Janus was likely at home in his paradise - almost everyone else was busy, so that left….
Virgil shifted their hand and he noticed something written on the napkin they’d been given. A phone number. They then noticed the demon at the bar giving him a bright smile. They seemed like a nice guy, sure, but Virgil wasn’t interested and he didn’t know if he’d be able to protest if something happened. He felt vulnerable here, but if he got up and left without finishing they were worried the barista would go after them.
There was one person they could text for help. They’d just have to hope he wasn’t too busy right now - and that they didn’t die of embarrassment from texting him.
He opened up the group chat and clicked on Roman’s contact, pausing to take at least four deep breaths before typing out a quick private message and hitting send before he could think too hard.
<xx4llpanic-nod!scoxx> Hey this is gonna sound really weird
<xx4llpanic-nod!scoxx> Srry in advance esp if ur busy
<xx4llpanic-nod!scoxx> can you come rescue me?
<xx4llpanic-nod!scoxx> The barista at this coffee shop I’m at is being weird and flirty and I cna’t leave and idk what to do
<Your Prince Charming> Great timing cutie - I just got sent on my break, where are you?
<xx4llpanic-nod!scoxx> Coffee shop - Brewed Brimstone
<xx4llpanic-nod!scoxx shared a location>
<xx4llpanic-nod!scoxx> Here
<Your Prince Charming> Gotcha - sit tight!! I’ll be there in ten!
<xx4llpanic-nod!scoxx> Tysm omg
<Your Prince Charming> No problem darling!
—-
Virgil breathed a deep sigh of relief, going back to sipping his drink and playing minesweeper on his phone and attempting to ignore the barista’s longing gaze whenever there wasn’t a customer to serve. Halfway into the ten minutes he was to wait, Roman sent another text asking if they would be okay with touch and that he had a plan. Virgil sent back a thumbs up - not quite sure exactly what Roman had planned - and received instructions just to play along. They’d be okay with any sort of plan. Hell, if Roman had to kiss him to get him out of this situation he’d be okay with it (they may be okay with it regardless, but that’s irrelevant).
Five minutes later, Roman came through the door full of energy. He immediately drew every pair of eyes just with his aura - and maybe his outfit.
Roman was wearing skintight jeans with a loose flowy pale pink top tucked in with a large belt - gold buckle and all. He was wearing a whole host of jewellery adorned to his wrists, neck and horns. With a hand on his hip and his tail swaying back and forth Roman’s eyes quickly found Virgil. His hair was tied back and he was wearing platform boots. Virgil might die if he kept looking at him like that.
“Hello beloved,” Roman announced, ignoring the barista entirely in favour of approaching Virgil and taking both of their hands in his, immediately pulling them up to kiss their knuckles, “I’m sorry I was late for our date darling, just got caught up in theatre, but I’m here now! Oh! You got yourself a drink whilst you waited - perfect, I’ll just get one to go and we can head off to the museum like we planned, sound okay?”
It took Virgil just a tiny moment to process everything Roman had just said, okay, so the plan was fake dating. He couldn’t have said that?? At least given Virgil a chance to mentally prepare himself for an onslaught of cute petnames and gestures.
“Oh - yeah, of course, it’s okay,” Virgil said, doing his best to play along despite the raging blush on his cheeks and the way his entire mind was screaming, “Don’t worry about it - um - I wasn’t waiting long…”
“Oh good, I’m glad,” Roman said, helping Virgil up from the seat and immediately wrapping his tail around Virgil’s waist. He blushed deeply - even though he wasn’t all too in the know about demon culture, that felt incredibly intimate.
Turning to the barista - who was now staring at the two of them like they’d grown six heads - Roman flashed a winning smile, “Hi there! Could I get a hellfire mocha to go? With cream and rainbow sprinkles if you please, would you like anything, my darling?”
It took Virgil a few seconds to realise that the last part was directed at him, but when he did he managed to stammer his way through an order, “O-oh, um, yeah I - can I have the same thing you made me before? But um - to go as well?” He asked the bartender, he was trying not to seem so nervous, though he knew he was failing. He just hoped it would come across more as flustered.
“Sure, coming right up,” The barista said, looking significantly glummer than they did before as they turned back to make the two drinks. Virgil let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Once they got their drinks, Roman quickly took Virgil by the hand and led them outside and down the street a little way, where he let go of them and stepped away looking oddly bashful. Virgil’s face hadn’t calmed down in the slightest and now they were outside. Right, Roman had rescued him.
“Thank you so much for that,” Virgil said, taking a deep breath, “They were just - they gave me their number and kept looking at me like Lily looks at Bell sometimes and it just freaked me out - sorry for taking you away from your break-”
“It’s okay sweetheart,” Roman said, ruffling his hair in the same way Remus often did, somehow making Virgil relax even more with the soft tone and familiar gesture, “I was going to get coffee anyway - and I’ll never complain about rescuing someone in distress - I just hope you weren’t too put off by my methods.”
Virgil sighed in relief hearing that he hadn’t pulled Roman too far from his plans, before he choked at the last statement, his face returning to it’s red state where he’d just been starting to calm down dammit, “No - no it’s fine I didn’t- I didn’t mind- um-”
“Careful, you’ll be giving me a run for my money if you keep getting redder,” Roman teased, gesturing to his own crimson skin. Virgil huffed and stuck his tongue out at him as he tried to de-red his face, “Anyway, what are you doing down here on such a fine day?”
“I was - kind of running away from Angel and Penny…” Virgil admitted, Roman raised a curious eyebrow, “They were teasing me about uh - stuff-”
“Ah, stuff, I see,” Roman nodded solemnly, “Angel can be like that, don’t let her bother you too much - but if you wanted to stay down here… perhaps you’d like to come back to the theatre with me? I’m running a day-long rehearsal today, but I’m sure no-one will mind your pretty face in the audience-?”
Virgil smiled - he had never actually been to any sort of theatre production before, and this was just a rehearsal, but it was with Roman and it gave him something to do, and he’d called him pretty, so… “Sure, why not? What do you do in the theatre anyway?”
“Well I do act of course, it’s one of my passions,” Roman said, “But I also help direct and run the youth musical theatre group for this area, right now we’re putting together a medley of our favourite mortal world musical songs, We only began last week, so it’s still very much a work in progress, but the blocking process is lovely to watch with everything coming together and these kids are rather dedicated so I’m sure you’ll have fun…”
Roman kept rambling all the way to the theatre, Virgil smiled and listened to everything he said - Roman was good at talking, he filled the space well and wasn’t overwhelming even though he was boisterous and fairly loud.
When they arrived Roman introduced them to the gathered kids and they gave an awkward wave. He sat in the audience and watched with interest. Though being honest he was watching Roman more than anyone else, the passion with which he moved around the stage to give everyone tips as they practised scenes, the way he got truly engaged with the students instead of sitting up front and yelling at them… Virgil could practically feel the passion in the room.
Once the rehearsal concluded, Virgil waited for Roman - who offered chivalrously to walk him home despite it being all the way up in paradise and Virgil accepted because they were trying to learn to take nice things when they were offered to them (Lily would be proud). They walked back through hell and up to paradise arm in arm.
Virgil really hoped this was going where he thought it might be, because he couldn’t deny to anyone anymore that he had the biggest raging crush on Remus’ brother possible.
They were going to tease him something awful about this when they found out, he was sure.
----
Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 @goldnskyart (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)
Hell's Belles AU tags: @awitchbravestheverge @twoalpacas @goldnskyart @anxious-mess19 @doteddestroyer @yourchemicallyimbalancedromance :)
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#hells belles#sanders sides#sanders sides fanfiction#virgil sanders#roman sanders#prinxiety#rowans writings#hells belles au#sasi fanfic#sanders sides fanfic#ts roman#ts virgil
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Scars
Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox
Summary: an undercover mission gone wrong. After being kidnapped by a trafficking leader, Steve is there when she wakes up back at the tower.
Warnings: language, creepy captor, pet names, human trafficking (mentioned), drugging, torture, injuries, canon level violence
Word Count: 3,900
Prompt: Spy/Military, interrogation, undercover mission
A/N: day 3 of March Trope-A-Thon by @amonthofwhump
It isn’t the most conventional plan. Regardless, it had been the best they could come up with. Infiltration through going undercover. How hard can it be?
The team watches her walk into the bar that women have been going missing from. She sidles up to the counter and orders a fruity non-alcoholic drink. She is on the clock, afterall. There will be plenty of time to drink after they find the place where the women are disappearing.
Her eyes sweep the room, looking for anyone suspicious as she takes a light sip of the drink. It tastes different than she’s used to, but she supposes that’s because there’s no alcohol in it. Plus, she has never been to this bar before. Most small owned bars are different. This one just seems like any other normal, run down dive bar.
She wonders how long this mission will take. She had plans to curl up and watch a movie or show after. She doesn’t want to have to reschedule.
There’s nothing to note within the first twenty minutes of her sitting at the bar, so she takes her half-finished drink and wanders around.
It’s a quaint little place, televisions on each corner showing off the latest American football game. There is plenty of sports memorabilia hung on the walls like any other bar she’s been to. Most of the tables are sticky, the place having been too busy for the employees to make their rounds. No one seems to mind, though.
The patrons are mostly college boys and middle aged men. A few are older people who look like retired soldiers. She does her best to ignore them.
There’s a group of people gathered around one of the televisions in the corner, cheering on one of the teams.
The hallway leading to the bathrooms is dark. Lit only by the light from the main room and some neon signs hung up. She gets chills walking down it and momentarily wishes she had brought a jacket with her.
The air is cool enough now to cause goosebumps to appear on her arms.
Suddenly, Her vision sways in and out as she stumbles down the hallway. Something is wrong. She should tell the others, but her arm feels so heavy. If she could just lift it to her ear to talk into her comm. Black creeps in the corners of her vision and she crashes into a wall. Using it to keep her upright, she groans. What’s happening?
She leans forward, clutching the wall, and slides slowly down until she comes to a stop in a sitting position. She closes her eyes and waits for the pain to pass. It’s still there, though. There's something about being in the dark all alone that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She tries to call out for help, but she's unable to get her vocal cords working. Instead, there's another groan.
The last thing she sees before blacking out are a pair of clean black boots making their way towards her. She doesn’t have the cognisance to be concerned.
When she wakes up, the first thing she notices is that she is sitting up. The second thing she notices is the killer headache pounding in her skull. The third thing is that her hands are bound behind her back and she is in a strange room she has never seen before. Panic grips at her chest as her eyes dart around the room. Where is she? Where is the team? Why haven’t they come for her? What happened?
It feels like hours pass before the only door opens. She instantly looks up at her captor and glares at him.
“Good to see you’re awake!” He smiles, unaffected by her glare. “We just have some questions for you and then we’ll send you on your way.”
She narrows her eyes. This isn’t normal. She was informed that this man is supposed to be a human trafficker. He’s not going to let her go.
“Who do you work for, sweetheart?” He questions. His voice is so saccharinely sweet that it disgusts her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies, implementing her years of acting experience to sound distressed and helpless.
He hums, “I think you do, sweet thing.”
“Please, let me go! I don’t have anything for you!”
A burning pain meets her right cheek and her head is whipped to the left. “Don’t play with me, sweetheart. I know who you are.”
“Then why bother asking?”
Her annoyingly unamused voice angers him. The fact that she is being a smartass makes him want to hit her again. Stupid woman, he thinks.
“Shut up and tell me everything you know!” He bellows, his voice filling the room.
“That’s a bit of a contradiction, don’t you think?” She innocently asks, smirking. She knows how to push his buttons. It’s not hard. He’s a typical short-fused man. Another slap meets her face, but she isn’t even mad. She thought it was funny.
“Just fucking tell me everything you know about the Avengers, now!” He bellows, getting in her face. She cringes at the rotten smell coming from his mouth filled with yellow teeth.
“Alright! Fine!” She acquiesces. “Hmm… Well, Sam and Bucky are always bickering like a married couple, Tony spends all of his time in his lab, Bruce is really sweet, Natasha is actually super cool which I wasn’t expecting; I was actually kinda scared to meet her because she’s so badass, but she’s super awesome.”
The man punches her in the face, having enough of her bullshit. “You know what I mean, bitch!”
“Do I?” She questions only to receive another punch, this time to her stomach.
She doubles over, grabbing her ribs. “Okay, okay, alright, I get it! You don’t want to hear my stupid rants!“
“Why did they send you to that bar?”
“Because you’re trafficking women, duh,” she rolls her eyes as if it were the most obvious answer ever— it kind of is, though.
“Who fucking told you?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I just do the missions.”
He squints his beady little eyes at her. He hates how she isn’t scared. She is acting as if she’s just having a nice conversation, not tied up and beaten down. He wants the usual terror he is met with when he drugs and kidnaps girls. He loves seeing their fear. She isn’t giving him what he wants.
After several seconds of silence and glaring at her, he sighs deeply. “Fine, fine, I suppose you won’t tell me either way. But I will make you talk one way or another.”
She watches him leave the room and sighs. So much for her plans of relaxing.
He returns a couple more times. Each one leaving her with more bruises than she had before. The one time he went a bit overboard and accidentally fractured one of her ribs. After that, he is gracious enough to leave her alone for a long time, not that she can tell, but the bruises do start to slowly heal
The next time the man enters the room, he has brought a box with him.
She knows that whatever is in the box is not good. It doesn’t take a genius to guess it will contain things made to hurt people. Her heart rate picks up as she sits tense against the chair.
She can feel her throat tighten, her breathing become shallow and fast as she stares at the box. There are many possibilities running through her mind as to what will happen when he opens the box.
He sets the box on the table and pulls open the lid. Inside lies an array of knives and scalpels. There’s also a whip and a collar that she can only assume is charged to shock. She swallows heavily as he removes the contents of the box and sets them aside. Then, he turns back to her.
“Now,” he says. “This is going to hurt unless you start talking.”
Of course, she refuses to give him anything. She’d rather die than betray her team
The cuts he makes on her thighs ache. “Seems like this isn’t the first time this has happened, huh?” The man grins, noticing her scarred thighs.
She grits her teeth as he pulls the blade down her thigh again. “No shit, Sherlock. At least the other time I was the one with the blade in my hand
“Shame, you’d look better without them.”
Once he finishes, he holds up a bottle. “Drink.”
She ignores him, not wanting to drink anything given that it’s probably laced with something. She’ll probably just puke it up anyway. That’s what happened last time.
He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Nothing,” she responds dryly.
He chuckles and grabs her chin. “Maybe if you tell me what I want to know, I won’t have to ruin more of your pretty skin.”
She glares at him. She doesn't want anything to do with this evil man. She’d never give up information about her family. Never.
“Well?” He growls menacingly.
“There’s no information to give!” She yells through clenched teeth. She doesn’t care if he hurts her. Nothing can make her talk.
“Oh, but there is,” He squints his eyes as he moves to the weapons.
Setting down the knife, he makes a show of contemplating what to do next. “Maybe I should collar you like the bitch you are.”
She glares at him as he hears her, shock collar in hand. When he reaches her, she struggles against the restraints, craning her neck every which way to try and avoid it.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. The collar is fastened around her neck and there is nothing she can do about it. She closes her eyes tightly waiting for it to begin.
The feeling of the cuts stinging and blood pooling from her wounds is all-consuming. She tries to hold in her cries, but a choked sob escapes. She feels so pathetic as tears roll down her cheeks and drip onto the floor below her.
The man chuckles in delight, seeing the tears fall down her pretty face.
“All of this could just stop if you give me what I want, pretty girl,” he sneers, brushing a piece of her hair out of her face.
“Never,” she mutters, pulling away from his hand. The man sighs before pressing a button. Within seconds a white hot pain shoots through her body. It feels like her bones are vibrating. Her body convulses a little, and she scrunches her eyes. Blood drips down from her lip where she had bitten it so hard.
He watches her struggle for control, his smirk growing wider by the second.
After a few moments of excruciating torture, the pain finally ends. Black dots cover the corners of her vision before she passes out cold.
When she awakens all she feels is pain. The cuts on her thighs sting and she can still feel the collar digging into her neck.
She groans in discomfort and slowly opens her eyes. She’s sitting on a small bed, surrounded by white walls with a door at the end. Why had she been moved? Tears gather in her eyes when she tries to sit up. She doesn’t try again, knowing she is too weak. She has her limits. She’s no supersoldier.
She takes a minute to regain her breathing. The pain starts to subside a little, but not fully. She looks down, finding bandages around her legs. At least he has the decency to patch me up, I guess.
She shrinks in on herself when the sound of the door opening breaks her from her thoughts.
“Oh good, you’re awake! Maybe now you’ll have some answers for me?”
“Go fuck yourself,” she angrily growls.
“That’s not very nice, now is it, dearie? Didn’t anyone teach you to respect your elders?” He admonishes her, taking out something from the box that he had moved into the room with her.
“I don’t have to respect an asshole like you,” she retorts, pulling on the collar. It feels suffocating. Her stomach drops when he turns around. Now she sees what is in his hands.
A whip.
One of the flesh-tearing whips that she had seen on multiple missions. She’d never seen one in action, but she had seen victims of them. They had welts running all the way up their backs. Some even had them on their legs. It made her nauseous at the time. Seeing it in his hand now causes her entire stomach to churn.
“Sit up, now,” he demands harshly.
Her eyes widen in fear. This can’t be happening. Someone will save her before he gets to her. They have to. they must be looking for her. Surely soon enough Tony or Steve will barge into the room and save her. They have to.
Right?
If they are looking for her then why haven’t they found her yet? Why haven’t they come after her?
“Get up,” he snaps, grabbing her arm roughly.
She winces in pain as he yanks her up. She falls forward, landing on her knees. She looks up at him, her eyes wide with fear.
“You’re going to tell me everything I want to know,” he persists. “Now!”
She whimpers in fear. No one is coming to save her. She is alone.
The first lash feels like fire. She screams as it tears into her skin. Her whole body shakes violently and she curls up in a ball on the floor. The tears flow freely as agony fills her soul. Her breaths are short and ragged as he winds up for another blow. Tears freely fall from her face, but she could care less right now. The pain is all consuming.
She lost count of how many times that whip came into contact with her back. The man had left her lying on the ground in the same position he had flogged her in. It felt like her back was on fire. Each lash left behind a fresh set of angry red marks, making her bleed profusely.
The pain eventually fades though, replaced with numbness. By the end, she wasn’t really sure whether the pain was real or not anymore. She felt so detached, almost like she was watching her life from afar.
It didn’t matter. Everything seemed so trivial, even the pain. All she wanted to do was sleep. But she couldn’t. The pain was keeping her awake.
The door opens again, and she isn’t able to hold back her sob. It’s too soon for him to be back. He didn’t even let her recover. Hurting her now would be like kicking a dead horse.
Some muffled curse barely reaches her ears as she goes into a state of hypovolemic shock.
She hears her name being called and confusion wraps around her brain. The man had never used her name before. He always just called her all those stupid pet names. As soon as she saw blond hair and a muscular body, she knew she had to be hallucinating.
No one is coming for her. Not even her best friend Steve Rogers. But he looks so real. If only he were, she muses before passing out.
When she wakes up again, she is in a different room. She feels like crying. Are the punishments going to be worse? How much worse can it get?
But then she realises a few things.
The weight of the collar she had gotten used to is gone. She isn’t bound or tied up in any way. There’s also the steady beeping of a heart monitor next to her.
Blinking her eyes to get adjusted to the daylight, she looks around with a sense of clarity. This place is familiar. It’s a med room. She’s back at the tower. She’s not under the clutches of that man anymore.
She nearly sobs with relief.
turning to look out the window, she is shocked to see Steve sitting by her side. His eyes are shut, and he’s sleeping as best he can in the small chair.
She looks over to the door, wondering how long he has been here. How long has she been unconscious? How long had she been held captive for?
Her mind reels. Everything is a blur. She doesn’t know how long it’s been since the undercover mission, but she guesses it’s been awhile.
She shifts slightly, wincing as the movement hurts. She reaches down rubbing her wrists where the cuffs had chafed her. The man had clearly done his job well; she’s bruised and battered.
His words come back to her. The ones about how she’d be prettier if only she wasn’t marred with scars. She can’t help but worry if the team will think the same. She wouldn’t blame them at all.
A shiver runs up her spine at the thought of having Steve look at her like that. Her heart tightens painfully in her chest.
She looks over to Steve again. He shifts and blinks his eyes open.
They settle on her and he immediately springs up from the chair.
“Hey, honey, do you need anything?” He asks, standing right next to the bed and putting his hand on the bed.
“No.” Her throat feels dry and cracked. “Okay, maybe some water.”
Steve nods and rushes off to get her a glass of water as if he weren’t worried sick about her condition when the last time he saw her she was practically lifeless on the floor of an abandoned building.
He places the glass on the table next to her and helps her sit up straighter. He gives her the glass to drink from before gently pushing her back against the pillow.
"Here."
She gratefully takes a sip, not knowing the last time she had drank anything that wasn’t drugged. “Thank you,” she murmurs, shifting in place. Steve winces upon hearing her whine and seeing her grimace of pain. He can’t imagine how her back must be feeling right now.
“I’m so sorry we didn’t find you sooner. We should have known something was wrong when you didn’t come back from the hallway, I should’ve-”
“Steve, it’s okay. You got him right? The women are safe, aren’t they?” She interrupts him, not wanting him to blame himself for her injuries.
“They’re fine… well as fine as they can be.” He sighs. “None of them got as banged up as you, though.”
She frowns slightly, not understanding why that matters so much. The most important thing is that the women are all safe.
“They’ll get better soon. The doctors said so,” he promises. “You should rest now. Get some sleep. We called for Dr. Cho to get the cradle as soon as possible.”
Nodding her head weakly, she lets him wrap the blanket around her as tightly as possible. He leans over to kiss her forehead and leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. She doesn’t want to rest, though. She’s been asleep for long enough. She just wants to do something.
To do something besides wait for the doctor to return.
She can’t do anything, and she hates it. Her whole body burns from the pain. Every movement seems to cause her physical ache tenfold. Even breathing causes her a great amount of pain. The last thing she needs is to make herself even more nauseous by moving her sore body.
So instead she sits there staring off into space, wishing she had someone or something to keep her occupied.
Luckily, Steve doesn’t take long before he’s back. He’s carrying some lightly buttered toast, not wanting to upset her stomach too much.
“Cho should be here soon.”
She nods as she takes the plate That is offered to her. Steve drags the chair over to her and sits down. Folding his hands together, he stares at them. He’s not sure what to say.
“Do you think scars are ugly?”
Steve’s head pops up. His brows are furrowed at the random question. “What do you mean?”
She sighs. “Do you think my scars make me look ugly?”
She looks up at him and sees the offended look on his face. “You? Ugly? I’m sorry, there has to be a mistake. No woman who looks as beautiful as you could possibly be ugly. I think your face is perfect. Your smile is breathtaking. You’re kind and loving. And everyone loves you because of that. Everyone adores you! They don’t just love your face. They love your personality as well, you know,” he stops his rambling and turns red when he hears her giggles at him. He might have gone a bit overboard. He wishes he could just know when to shut up. He made a fool out of himself.
He clears his throat awkwardly while trying to hide his embarrassment.
“I love your smile,” she says softly, causing his cheeks to grow even warmer.
“Oh. Thank you.” He’s looking away again, trying desperately to keep control of his rapidly beating heart. He’s never been great with girls. Especially pretty girls. She isn’t just pretty, though. She’s breathtaking. The most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege of seeing.
Snapping them out of their intimate moment, the door opens to reveal Cho.
Steve bids her fair well, promising to be there when she awakens. She quietly says her own goodbye, hoping that Steve will forget all about that embarrassing comment she made.
When she gets out of the cradle, Steve is sitting with her just as promised. He is drawing in his sketchbook. He looks up when he hears her shift on the bed. His eyes light up, seeing hers looking at him.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Steve asks, setting the book down on the table next to him.
She shrugs, “I’m good. How long have you been here?”
“Too long.” He stretches and yawns. She giggles, knowing full well that he didn’t have to stay but was too stubborn to leave.
“Can I get you anything? Water? Some coffee? I brought some breakfast, I figured you’d want some.”
She shakes her head, not wanting any food. She just knows she would throw up if she were to try to eat anything. “Just a glass of water would be nice.”
He nods. Grabbing the empty pitcher from the nearby table, he goes to the kitchen to fill it up with water.
When he returns, he sets the glass of water on the nightstand and walks over to the bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed and watches her carefully as she gulps down the water. She smiles once she finishes drinking and closes her eyes. She rests her head back against the pillows, her arm still resting over her eyes to protect them.
The silence between them is comforting as Steve continues watching her, wondering what he can do to make her feel better. What he can do to comfort her. What all did that man do to her? He doesn’t want to ask, not wanting her to have to relive any experiences she went through. He’d do anything to help her, though. She deserves that and so much more.
“You wanna watch a movie with me?” She asks. “I never did get my post-mission relaxation in.”
#amow tropeathon 2023#avengers fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#mcu fic#domestic avengers#marvel fic#mcu whump#hurt/comfort#marvel fanfic#mission#spy#mission gone wrong#avengers angst#cricket-reader#steve rogers angst#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers imagine#steve
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I’m gonna leave this WIP here for a bit…
NSFW under the cut
Featuring Hancock and other FO4 mentions
“Let me ask you something,” John sat lazily on his sofa drawing another puff from his cigarette; eyes hooded under a tilted tri-corner hat,
“Why me?” Hancock paused for affect watching Annie twiddle her thumbs and pull at her jacket,
“You come all this way for a tussle all the while passing up 3 to 4 other dicks on much prettier men.”
Annie only now realized she’d been holding her breath and let it out loudly; but before she could make her plea John put out his cig and lit another.
It was hard to not notice how smooth Hancock moved, like water, and Annie was here to swim.
“For instance, that ‘holier then thou’ Paladin of yours. Yeah I see him get an eyeful every time you turn around, big lumbering soldier gets all pink in the cheeks when you take lead. Or that boss of his,”
Hancock snapped his fingers trying to remember Elder Maxson’s name,
“Elder Scarface. I fuckin hate that bigot but don’t mean he wouldn’t turn to putty the second you touched his shoulder. Guy’s so frickin tightly wound, I bet he’d cum by the fifth bounce. Sure he acts like a war tactician, bloodline bred for excellence, deathclaw slayer but I’d bet my last cap he’d turn into a little red faced bitch/sub underneath you.”
The conjured image was not unpleasant. Maxson begging for release, reduced to a tear stained, blubbering mess. Hands bound of front of him trying to feel any inch of her sweat slicked skin…
Her ears began to beat to the rush of blood to her face, had the room always been this hot?
John was standing over his coffee table, fingering through his stash of chems; amongst the stash were random bullets, poker chips, buttons and a magazine of some porno called “Three’s a crowd”. The cover showed 3 men in a cramped space with the same amount of lust in their eyes that Annie had for Hancock. He pocketed a jet then shot a round of hydra into his shoulder.
Annie remembered the last time they traveled together a couple of months ago. Helping out the folks at The Slog, when suddenly 3 super mutants appeared. They were low on the totem pole though; carrying only one pipe rifle the other two had 2x4’s, so they went down pretty quick, but not before John took a wack to his right side from one of the boards. He recovered fast due to his ghoul flesh, but his shoulder joint would always get stiff in rainy weather. If he would only ask, she would rub it.
Hancock made no sign he’d just been jabbed by a needle. Just rotated his arm adjusting the tight muscle, retuning his cigarette to his lips. Giving her body a quick once over before continuing,
“How about that Boy Scout lieutenant of yours? He’d practically marry you if you asked nicely…”
“Preston is an angel and wouldn’t know how to fuck me into a mattress of his life depended on it.”
John snorted, “Don’t be too sure about that chica. Every time I meander my way to your castle, I can practically feel the buzz coming off him when you’re around. He may be a saint but he’s still a man.”
Preston was Annie’s friend. Her first friend. She knew he wanted more, but she didn’t feel the same. It felt wrong to think of him that way when she had no intention of cultivating a relationship with him.
By now Hancock was close. Close enough to feel his warmth, smell his tobacco, see little stains on his red coat from when he refills the oil lamps. He huffed a final draft of smoke just to the side of her, before dropping and stepping on the butt. He adjusted his hat and looked her in the eye. Black voids meeting pale blues.
“Or perhaps this is a social call for a whole other reason.” His rough hands were barely touching her hips. Gentle caresses over her dirty jeans, his fingers sliding into her back pockets, heat radiating off him now. The front corner of his hat brushing against her hair,
Annie looked up and saw a restraint set in his jaw. As she leaned in to kiss the ghoul, he leaned back away from her mouth, and with a softness asked,
“Any chance you’re here to forget about that doe eyed, southern man you’ve been chasing?”
The mention of Jake sucked the heat out of the room. Annie felt a humid cold spread over her, tears pricked at the corner of her eyes and weakness began to build.
Jake.
Gods she loved him. Wanted him. Needed him; and what’s worse is Jake wanted her too. They kissed once after GNN was won. But Jake had to talk her down from taking more. While he wanted something between them to bloom, he just couldn’t give himself fully until his daughter was found. She understood. Hell she knew better than most what it means to have a child missing; her own son still in the clutches of ‘lord knows where’.
It made her sick to think about. Her baby boy, out there, somewhere. Was he safe? Well fed? Happy? Annie didn’t know. Was she terrible for wanting a distraction now and then in the arms of a lover while her dream guy worked endlessly looking for his baby?
Thick, wet tears trickled down her flush cheeks. They culminated in salty pools in the crease of her mouth only to be swiped away by Hancock’s thumb.
“What makes you think a boozy night with a mug like mine would make the ache go away?” His hands were no longer on her ass but on the small of her back, rubbing soothing circles.
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Writing Patterns
rules: share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!
Oh, I love this one. Thank you @mikuchan for tagging me! 💜
1. Spent Cartridges and Scarlet Satin (BG3)
Turning the corner onto the street leading to her office, Shadowheart shrugged the collar of her black trench coat higher up to avoid any wayward eyes fixing on her for too long. Her boots slapped into a puddle, a wave skidding up across the sidewalk. She glanced to either side and peered down the alleyways she passed.
2. All Tied Up (BG3)
Getting herself into this situation had been Shadowheart's plan all along, but there was a vast difference between fantasy and kneeling on wooden floorboards with candle wax melting down her bare leg.
3. Worship at Her Altar (BG3)
Leaves crunched under Aylin's feet as she sped through the copse dimly lit by the half-moon overhead. Like so many nights of her long-distant youth, she ran from fallen log to forgotten footpath with nothing but the wind on her back. Clothes lay abandoned at the edge of the forest, the night demanding nothing but her body. In those old days oft recalled as lonely horrors, there was no Isobel.
4. These Broken Foundations (Malazan)
Tavore Paran walked the neglected streets of Kolanse City, her feet bleeding with each step. The people there, the Kolansii that remained hiding in their homes out of fear of what it meant to have an exhausted host of soldiers resting in the empty buildings dotting the city, paid her no mind. It was what she wanted, she told herself. The silence of all but her footfalls rested easy in her heart. Little else rested easily for her that day as Ganoes and the corpse of his army shambled behind them by a day at most.
5. As We Lay Entwined (BG3)
Shadowheart sat on the lip of a hill overlooking the crescent arc of Baldur's Gate's walls, her elbows slung over her knees as she searched the city streets for signs of life. Pockets of light trawled the city, tiny dots against the darkness, but in all it appeared as dead as the town they left behind in curse-freed Reithwin. Shambling through the night, lifeless.
6. The Line Between (BG3)
"You can't be serious?"
7. Out of the Dark (BG3)
The first touch of light after emerging from the dark is meant to warm the skin. Nocturne recalled reading that in a book on Selûnite philosophy that someone had gifted Shadowheart. It was a dull treatise Nocturne read because Shadowheart called it interesting one day and claimed that she might enjoy it.
8. Tenderly (BG3)
The idea struck Shadowheart at the end of one random, otherwise uneventful day. Lying in the grass in front of their cottage, side-by-side and staring up at the night sky’s glimmering stars and the silvery glow of a full moon, Shadowheart twirled her fingers through a loop of Asheera’s hair free of its braid.
9. Half a Sorrow (BG3)
There lay in Lae'zel's expression a ghost, a familiar cast that Shadowheart recognized.
10. Speak Uncertainly (BG3)
Standing on the battlement of the High Hall's curtain wall, Minthara leaned between the shattered merlons and rested her weight on tired arms. She surveyed the destruction of Baldur's Gate. So much potential lost, so many souls burned away who might have been useful for something more than dragonfire fodder.
Technically, a few fics (like Blades in the Night) come up in my recently published before some of the others I listed here. Those were either multichapters with a first chapter from last year, prompt collections posted elsewhere way before AO3, or zine fics. I skipped over those.
So, I expected there to be way more dialogue openings since I like doing that an awful lot. Instead, there's all these scene setting lines that also work to, I think, set up how the POV begins the fic before they go through whatever arc is within. I'd probably have to dig further back or look at the fic lengths to really break this down. I think it's likely that I do dialogue starts for the shorter fics, but then #9 and #10 are both ficlets. So what do I know?
Also, since I'm back on a writing tear, a lot of these fics are rather close together in terms of publishing date. Not necessarily writing date, though!
The funniest little happenstance for me is #4 and #5 characterizing large groups of people—an army after a pyrrhic victory and a city's population, respectively—as "shambling" corpses. I meant to use those metaphors as a way to show how morbid and defeated the POVs felt, but it's neat that the Malazan fic features such a similar metaphorical launch point to the Shadowheart character study. I wrote the Malazan fic months and months ago. I reworked a lot of it, but I kept the opening paragraphs, I'm pretty sure.
I'll tag @askweisswolf @cylinderarts and anyone else that wants to do this!
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“On the run”
Beidou x Reader
Words: 2400
Google docs pages: 4,5
Warnings: Slight drinking, platonic (if you squint maybe some romantic undertones), that’s about it
Opening: You’re on the run from the tenryou commission, having escaped an arrest. To your luck, an old friend of yours had just made port in Ritou, giving you a chance to hop onboard before they made departure again.
AN// Reader can be any gender with an anemo vision! I’m so happy I finally got to play this game. None of my past pcs could run it to a point where it would even open, but I worked my ass off to get a new pc!! Safe to say, after couple years of waiting it’s been nice so far <3 Was also blessed enough to get Baizhu beloved straight away with low pity!
“On the run”
The sound of the wind whistling in your ears had become awfully familiar after running as fast as you could for a while. And even with the wind helping you boost your maximum speed, the sound of the men running after you was audible. They didn’t seem like the sort to give up, not especially after you’d made a run for it for the second time. And the more thought you gave this situation, the more you began to wonder if you’d left too early. You barely even had a plan, yet you were running for your life. Getting caught twice wasn’t going to lead you to better treatment, that was for certain. So you stuck with the original, still a little unshaped plan. To make it to Ritou by dark and find a vessel to get away from the islands completely.
You’d been to those waters before, knowing full well the dangers that lurked below the water but above it as well. The storms that you would face with a small vessel would ultimately lead to a failed escape, and you didn’t want to continue that trail of thought further from there. Though, ultimately you would have to come up with something soon. You didn’t have a lot of energy left, knowing you'd been using your vision for far too long for one day as it was. So if there wasn’t a bigger ship in sight once you arrived, there wasn’t going to be any other option but to face the men after you, which you knew you couldn’t defeat on your own.
The sight of water started to peek out first, the shade of it almost black in your eyes as the night was starting to get comfortable around the island. It gave you the advantage of maybe hiding in the port for a while. If no one found you, a ship might just arrive in time to your rescue without even knowing it. The second thing to appear were the tops of buildings, and lastly the port. Once it came into sight, you skipped away from the road to avoid any unwanted attention. Besides, the surroundings of the houses were lit up, making you visible if you so much as got near them.
Out of breath by now, your body trembled a little with the wind as you peeked around a corner. No one in sight, but as your gaze travelled up, the masts of a huge vessel came into view. And as if light bulbs had turned on in your eyes, you began inspecting it. Upon getting a little closer, staying at a safe distance, you could tell it wasn’t just any ship. It might have made port earlier today, but even in the darkness of the early night you could tell whose ship it was. Beidou. A tough woman you’d known for a long time, though since the nation closed you hadn’t seen her in a long time. Now that you thought about it, you could barely recall her voice from memory.
Though, this finding gave you hope. If she still remembered you the same way you remembered her, there was a chance you wouldn’t have to hide around the ship for multiple nights as the ship took you to wherever they were headed next. And to that departure they didn’t need much time anymore. By the looks of it in the port, all of the cargo had been taken out and no one from the crew was lounging around the port. The only noises of there even being a fleet came from the ship itself, making it clear that you had to be quick if you wanted to hop onboard.
The tenryou commission soldiers had quieted down a little, and by the sound of it they must have thought you’d escaped somewhere between the buildings. The accidental distraction allowed you to safely get closer to the vessel and to find a way up.
The main deck had a few men strolling around, preparing the ship for departure. From the eavesdropping you were able to do, you concluded that they’d heard the commotion too, having to hurry with the preparations by captain’s command to do so. But it was no wonder. If you knew her at all, the captain of this ship did not want to get involved with the tri commission of the island, wanting to move on as soon as she could.
You stayed at the stern of the ship, as you soon after arriving noticed that most of the men who came on the main deck stayed near the bow. Though, this gave you the sense of safety and a moment to take a breather. Which you should have realised wasn’t the case, knowing that as big as the ship was there were more men on it than on most vessels you’d travelled on. And while listening to the conversations happening near you, one of the crew members had spotted you. In any other case this wouldn’t have been a problem, but by the looks of it Beidou had gotten a lot of new folk to join her fleet, most of them having never seen you.
The young sailor came up to you, but before he was able to say anything a command rang loud and clear from the quarter deck. “We’re setting sail! Men, to your posts!” It caught your attention, but also conflicted the man attempting to confront you. He had a job to do, but bringing you to the captain was one of them. He gave you a look, making you raise your brows rather playfully. You had ran for far too long as it was, and if the person who finally caught you was an old friend, that was a win in your book.
In no time after the command, the ship lifted its anchors and set the sails. The wind caught to the fabrics, causing them to make noise before they stretched and pushed the vessel forward. The two gaff sails being close enough to the decks, so anyone could hear the freeing sound they let out. A shaky breath left you, knowing the real danger was finally over. They weren't getting you or your vision this time.
The sound of boots hitting the wooden deck rang with the wind, but only the sound of a man allerting this person walking caught your attention. The man from earlier had informed Beidou of your presence, and knowing you she didn’t say anything else to the man, leaving you with slight unease as you hesitated to see her. She knew you could hear them. But the amused chuckle that came from her end eased your shoulders. “Hah, where’ve you been hiding? Came to finally join the fleet?” She asked, tone just as you’d faintly remembered it. She leaned slightly on a small pillar behind her, leaning most of her weight on one leg. The wind that blew the ship forward swirled her hair every once in a while, but it didn’t seem like it bothered her.
You gave her a light hearted chuckle back, shaking your head as you stepped away from the shadows at last. Only now could you truly feel how exhausted you were from the running, leaning slightly on the wooden box behind you. Thankfully, the sea legs you’d developed a long time ago seemed to have activated the second the ship had made sail. “Nope, not this time. Maybe next time?” You hummed, tilting your head in a kind yet playful manner. “Is what you say every time we meet. So, where’ve you been?” She asked, clearly not being too serious about recruiting you, not that she ever was. It had never been a demand, not in the tens of times you’d sailed with her. “Here and there”, you started carefully. You were no thief or a big time criminal, and Beidou would have understood if you told her about the unfair arrest over trying to protect someone else. But that would just add to the pile of ‘I was chased by soldiers’ stories you’d already told her in the past. Not that they were ever lies, but you feared that at some point she’d start seeing you as too much of a risk to hide away onboard. You knew the differences she already had with Ningguang, and fostering ‘criminals’ wasn’t going to ease that tension.
She took a breath, but seemed to notice the faint trembles going through your body before any words came out. Whatever she had been thinking of saying was stored away in her mind, for a better time. “Let’s go inside, coming with me?” She asked, turning her back to you to lead the way, knowing you’d know where to go anyway. “Ah, of course.” You nodded, slowly following behind her. You knew you’d otherwise feel heavy, but the wind gushing to your back made the walking feel light.
Beidou led you to her quarters, closing the door after you as she watched from the threshold that you got yourself seated. A somewhat comfortable silence overtook the space, the walls of the ship made of such thick wood that not even the sound of the waves hitting the ship’s keel could be heard in the cabin. Though, the comfort made you drowsy, having to force yourself to stay alert. Beidou was setting some of her items to the side, suddenly breaking the silence while she was at it. “I know you have your own things to deal with, and as such, I won't try to rope you into coming onboard permanently, and you know that. But remember, there is always a place for you onboard.”
Beidou had always been helpful to everyone, no matter who they were. She, if anyone was good at reading people, most she’d met almost like open books to her. So she could spot a lost soul from a mile away, willing to help in any way she could. To you, that help had always been shelter. She knew the dangers you got yourself into, and whenever you’d showed up, she knew something must have gone down badly in the recent days. The captain didn’t force stories out of you, taking whatever tale you gave her when she asked why you’d appeared from thin air yet again. She was a kind soul, in your eyes.
“I know.” You said silently, mind too focused on trying to stay awake to come up with anything else to her oddly comforting words. Not that you hadn’t heard them before. She gave you a nod at that, by the looks of it being a little more serious now. But not more than ever before in situations like this. She’d seen you in worse conditions, a little exhaustion was probably at the bottom of the list of worst injuries.
The captain made her way to you, sitting down on the only bed in the cabin. “But if you want to talk over a drink, I’ll help you deal with whatever is going on.” She informed you, making the situation and what she was offering rather clear to you. You didn’t know what you’d spill out to her in a tired state such as this, but the trip to wherever you were headed was going to be a long one. And staying silent wasn’t going to help, most certainly making her more interested at some point. “Sure.” You nodded after a while, watching as she handed you a drink. By the smell of it beer, as per usual.
You told her of how things had evolved in Inazuma, of how many taken visions had been reported. You weren’t a part of any active resistance group, but you did what you could to help those with visions. So when the opportunity came to sabotage one of these robberies, you’d sprung into action. And it had worked, the person had gotten away, only you they had seen. And not long after, caught. It seemed they had a record of earlier similar attempts listed with smaller crimes, assuring you of nasty treatment if you had stayed there any longer. But at no point of you telling Beidou this, did she look at you as if she was worried. She could see you in one piece in front of her. Everyone had their low points in life, and you had done as she’d told you. When you needed her, to just come and find her.
Though, after telling the woman all of this, she seemed to catch up with your condition a little better. It wasn’t the beer making you loopy, it was exhaustion from earlier. “Alright, I won’t have my crew get sloppy. And as long as you’re here, you’re getting some rest.” She said, placing her hands on her knees before pushing herself up. You looked up at the woman, knowing you needed the rest more than anything. Not only the physical strain, but the mental stress of it all would catch up with you eventually if not now. But by the point when she’d said that, you’d almost dozed off on the couch you had seated yourself on earlier. She soon made note of this herself, a low yet understanding him leaving her as she walked closer.
This was not something out of the ordinary. Finding you on her ship, exhausted or more or less beat up, looking for shelter and a place to rest. Which she was more than glad to offer for you, seeing something in you even she didn’t quite understand.
Nevertheless, she moved you just enough that you could lay on your back, laying any spare cover she had for you to use as a blanket. With one final look at your resting form, she gave a faint smile which could have been mistaken for a smirk if the person seeing it didn’t know her as well as you did. At the end, it was the way the ship swayed smoothly that brought you to a deep slumber, not waking up when the captain came to rest near you later that night.
AN// Genshin requests are open, characters I write for are linked at the end of my pinned post ^^ This was yet again proof read at 4 in the morning with 4 hours of sleep, so if there are any mistakes, I apologise :"D
#genshin impact#beidou#beidou genshin impact#beidou x reader#genshin x reader#x reader#fanfic#a weird pipeline from ofmd pirates to genshin pirates#not that i mind bc omg#beidou beloved
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okay I just saw someone reblog one of your "I wish someone would write this fic" and it was amazing!! I am utterly charmed by the idea of seb having kids and chris being famous and how they would just fit and the care chris shows the kid and seb's blushing and argh!
I don't know how long ago you posted it, so if I haven't missed the boat, may I make a request? I am dying for a stucky fic where steve and buckbuck go back in time accidentally and meet themselves from the past before the war. I desperately want to know the reactions on either side and the reveals and everything!
oh and a quick look at your blog (I'm nosey) and it seems you've hit s follower milestone, so congratulations!! my two cents after knowing you for two minutes is that you really deserve it <3 I hope you're having a good time when you read this!!
Hi hi! @buckybarnes-metal-arm so nice to have you on board and thanks so much for all your love 😌
So this is a very late reply ... but it's been on my mind - and it's new years eve! So here you go, a little head canon to get your 2023 started out sweet...
Here we go, bucky and steve go back in time:
Lets imagine this is bucky and steve as steve is chasing bucky down between winter soldier and civil war. So Buck is post brainwash but still recovering. Steve is desperate to find him, help bucky find himself, help get his friend back... his best friend... the only part of steves soul he thought made him real and whole. His bucky.
So bucky is in eastern Europe somewhere, hunting down plums and living his best half life and Steve catches his trail (let's be honest, Nat does and steve follows her lead) and there he is - his bucky. In the middle of a market place and with a bag of freshly bought produce and an 'Oh fuck' expression on his face as he catches Steve's eye and he runs.
Steve chases.
Steve has maybe an advantage in the speed department but bucky knows the territory and its killing Steve that he can see him but bucky won't fucking stop running away
Why!!!!
Bucky. Come on, man.
Bucky gives him that 'fuck off Stevie' face he pulls so perfectly - except its so classic bucky it only pushes Steve harder
He uses a device that coulson had slipped him in secret - when Steve wasn't supposed to know he was still alive and coulson wasn't supposed to know were Steve was but they have their ways
Steve thinks the alien tech will give him the last jump start he needs to nab bucky - and it absolutely does - just also has a bit more kick than Steve was expecting and damn, okay, he's grabbed bucky now, who is frozen in Steve's arms as the world goes blue and then white and then black and then suddenly they are stepping forward (falling really) onto a dark, badly lit street that definitely wasn't the one they were just in
In fact it seems really familiar...
And not at all like modern Hungary. It's more like... it's more like home. Home home.
New York home...
But... the new York Steve really remembers.
'What the fuck did you do?' Bucky is staring at him and his eyes are wide and unblinking, his breathing slightly elevated, his heart rate up- Steve can hear it.
Which makes perfect sense because what the fuck did Steve do? He has no idea.
'I have no idea'...
Bucky is not impressed, of the look on his face is anything to go by. And Steve might be once red about that but his greatest worry right now is that they get off the Street and out of sight of the people around them. Some of whom are staring as Steve and bucky have sort of stumbled out of the mouth of an alleyway, so Steve grabs bucky by his backpack (ridiculously buckled up around his chest? Why does that make Steve want to hug him?) And pulls him back into the alley.
'Steve!' Bucky stage whispers.
'I know,' he whispers back. They need a plan. He looks down at the device in his hand, 'But I don't think I can just press this thing again now...'
When bucky flips their positions and shoves steves chest to back him up against the wall. Well. It knocks the breath out of him. Probably more than it should. Steve probably needs to unpack that later.
'This is your number one fucking problem, pal. You don't think!' Bucky is whisper shouting so close to Steve's ear he can feel his breath. Buckys chest is practically pressed against Steve's. 'Yoy never think.' He says, less a shout this time and more just a whisper, as he shakes his head. His hair brushing against Steve’s cheek.
And God, but Steve wants to lean into him. To put his arms around him. To just melt into him. But bucky is right. Steve never thinks, not when bucky is involved, he just shoots from the fucking hop. And here they are, in what looks like 1930's Brooklyn. And jesus, some poor tiny version of Steve is probably pining just as hard over his bucky somewhere within spitting distance and doesn't that take the cake?
And then of course he hears it, someone approaching the alley, footsteps slowing. Two people at least, judging by the goals footfalls.
Bucky, for whatever reason, wraps a hand over Steve’s mouth and pushes him further into the brick wall. (Steve really hopes Bucky's hearing is not good enough to pick up the uptick in his heart rate at that little maneuver)
'Hey, you okay down there?'
'Stevie let me handle this.'
Oh, fuck. Steve knows those voices.
The sharp intake of Bucky's breath indicates he does too.
'You best step back, sir, let that man go.' Steve, regular old Steve Rogers, before the vitaray, before Erskine, before the war and all the insanity, is yelling down the alley at himself. Held back with one strong hand on his arm by none other than regular old bucky Barnes. The bucky that existed before getting shipped out. Before getting captured. Before dying and being ripped to pieces and remade again.
'Stevie, leave them be.' Bucky is saying under his breath. No clue that the two supersoldiers in the alley can hear every word he says. 'You don't know what they're up to.'
Even in the darkness Steve can see the blush in his buckys cheeks at what that implies.
He can only imagine his old self had a similar blush across his own face. It probably never would have occurred to him to put that together.
Steve reaches up to pull buckys hand away from his mouth, bucky looking him in the eye, expression unreadable, as he lets steve do it, and calls out, 'yep, we're all fine here.'
Which for some reason draws a snorted laugh from his bucky as he hides his face in Steve's shoulder.
But other bucky, old bucky, has moved closer into the alley, hasn't turned away as old Steve had started to. He's cocked his ear towards Steve and has a strange look on his face... 'steve?'
Steve and bucky both freeze.
'Stevie?'
'Buck, what?' Old Steve is pulling on buckys arm now, but bucky is making his way closer and closer. Eyes only for Steve. And bucky and steve are both frozen to the spot. Absolutely at a loss as to how to deal with this.
'Steve, that's you.'
'What'
'I'd know that voice anywhere that's you Steve.' Bucky says, close enough to see them clearly now. 'And that's... I think that's me...'
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck....
Might have to write some more for you another time. Clock just struck midnight here. Happy 2023!
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The Knight of Lacuna Lake - Part 5
summary: one fateful week changes everything for Maura and Keelan. tw for blood, violence, and death
intro post, part one, part two, part three, part four
taglist (ask to be added <3): @serenanymph @lyssa-ink @oh-no-another-idea @lena-rambles @ashen-crest @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @serpentarii @allianaavelinjackson @laurenisnot
The ride back to the castle is far too short, Keelan wishing the whole way to stretch out the morning a little longer. They are greeted at the castle gates by the rest of the guard detail, still hauling casks of wine towards the kitchen. Maura stops to check in with them and thank them, giving the soldier who is shouting orders a kiss on the cheek for his trouble. Keelan tries not to feel jealous.
She's a princess. It's not like she's going to marry her sworn shield.
After leaving their horses in the stables, Maura leads the way to the grand foyer, absentmindedly running her fingers over the suits of armor that line the walls. Keelan wonders where they are going—the message summoning them hadn't mentioned a location, but Maura's footsteps are quick and sure. She murmurs hellos to servants and soldiers as they pass her and her nose crinkles with deep thought. She turns down a side passage that Keelan has never seen before and skips down a set of stairs. The passage is made with smooth dark stone, lit by torches placed every few feet. Keelan wonders how he has never seen it before—it's off the main corridor and not exactly hidden.
“My father and I are the only ones who come down here,” Maura says, as if she can read his mind. “It was built not long after he married my mother. In Guildi, they don't worship the gods; they worship their ancestors. My father needed a place to be able to pray, so my—my mother had this made for him.”
There is an ornately carved wooden door at the end of the corridor. Maura lifts her hand and knocks once. “Father?”
“Come in, sweet pea,” the king's voice calls. Maura pulls the door open and Keelan takes his place next to it. The door is beginning to close when the king speaks again. “Sir Keelan, you may come in as well.”
Keelan fights the flush that wants to crawl up his cheeks and slips into the room. It's a simple, small chamber, not much bigger than the kitchen of his house in Leyne. Against the far wall, there are candles and portraits set up on an altar. Incense fills his nose and the light is dim enough compared to the corridor that it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust. King Proteus is sitting on a cushion in front of the altar, his legs crossed and his bare feet resting against the cool stone floor. Maura drags a cushion out from under the altar and sits next to him, slipping off her shoes. Keelan stays standing awkwardly by the door.
“We thank our ancestors for their continued guidance,” Maura says, bowing her head. “We ask that they continue to guide us as the world grows larger and the universe continues to complicate itself. Please help us to choose a path that will honor you and bring peace and prosperity to our family.”
“In the name of the royal family of Guildi,” Proteus adds, “thank you and twelve blessings.”
Keelan shifts from one foot to the other, feeling like an intruder and a voyeur. Maura and Proteus remain kneeling for another minute, in some kind of silent contemplation. Finally, Proteus turns to Keelan and smiles. “You can join us if you are comfortable, Sir Keelan.”
“I...” Keelan gulps. “Your Majesty, I am honored, but I do not know much about Guildin religion.”
“That's okay,” Maura says, scooting over on her cushion. She pats the space created. “You don't have to be Guildin to pay your respects to your ancestors.”
Keelan thinks of the shadows of Leyne on the walls of the chapel. He kneels next to Maura on her cushion.
“We ask Sir Keelan's ancestors to watch over him as he continues on his journey,” Proteus says, bowing his head again. “Please guide him to a path that will bring him happiness. In the name of the town of Leyne, a blessing.”
Keelan squirms a bit. “Why did you give twelve earlier and only one just now?” He reddens. “Unless that's—”
Proteus laughs. “No, son, you've made no offense. The number of blessings you offer to your ancestors is dependent on how many surviving family members you have.” His expression sobers. “My deepest condolences for your losses.”
Keelan looks away. “Thank you.”
Proteus says something in Guildin that Maura repeats and they both stand. Keelan pops to his feet as well, unsure of what to do with himself.
“What did you call me here for, Father?” Maura asks. “I promise I had Sir Keelan with me outside the castle walls. The other guards got held up.”
“Yes, I heard,” Proteus says with a wry smile. “I saw the kitchen maids rolling the casks down to the cellar. Tell me, why did you buy so much wine?”
Maura's eyes flick to Keelan, then back to the king. “The merchant had a very rare vintage that I wanted to save for a special occasion.”
“Oh?” It might be Keelan's imagination, but he thinks that he sees the king look at him for a moment. “What special occasion is that?”
Maura presses her fingers against the small of her back. “My coronation someday. By then, the wine will be perfect, don't you think?”
“Of course, sweet pea,” Proteus says, sounding amused. “I only called you back here to be sure that you were alright. Your ladies' maids said you seemed upset, and then you disappeared from the castle for so long. A father worries about his daughter.”
Maura wraps her arms around him, tucking her face into his chest. Keelan again looks away. “Thank you, Father. I'm okay, I promise.”
“Good.” Proteus hugs her tightly. “I would never recover if something were to happen to you. Or your mother, or your sister. You three are my world.”
Keelan shuts his eyes, thinking of Levi's lips on Rosaleen's neck.
“I love you too, Father,” Maura says.
“Would you let me speak with Sir Keelan alone for a moment?”
Keelan's eyes fly open and he stares at the king in shock. Maura steps away from her father, glancing between them. She brushes off her riding dress. “Of course. I will be just outside.”
She slips out and the heavy wooden door slides shut. Keelan keeps his eyes fixed on the wall over King Proteus's shoulder. “What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”
Proteus laughs and Keelan manages not to flinch. “You needn't be so formal, Sir Keelan. You are practically family after all these months dutifully protecting Maura.”
“I thank you, sir, but I...” Keelan swallows the lump in his throat. “I don't know if I would be...”
“That's okay,” Proteus says, a little more gently. “You are still young. Hopefully we will have many years to get to know each other better. I haven't had the chance to thank you.”
Keelan blinks, meeting the king's eyes in his shock. They are warm brown, nothing like the ethereal silver of Maura's gaze. “I don't know what you mean, Your Majesty.”
“You have been a loyal protector of my daughter,” Proteus says. “There is nothing more important to me than my family.” He turns to the altar. “I begged my ancestors to keep them safe, and then you appeared on our doorstep. I do not know if it was my ancestors or the Raedoran gods who brought you here, but I do know that you have a good heart. You will be a fine Queen's Knight.”
“I am...I am not the Queen's Knight,” Keelan stammers. “I am only the sworn shield of—”
Proteus chuckles, ending Keelan's protests. “Not yet, son. Not yet. Maura is not the queen yet, but she will be someday.” He reaches out to set his hands on Keelan's shoulders. “I am grateful that you will be at her side when that day comes.”
Tears well up behind Keelan's eyes. “Thank you, sir.”
“Now,” Proteus says. “I'm sure Stiofán will have made something delicious for lunch. I would be greatly pleased if you and Maura joined me for something to eat in the gardens. The weather here in Morbhard is much cooler than Guildi, but there are still a few weeks of warmth left.”
Keelan eats lunch with the king and the princess under the twisty tree, wondering how his life came to be so strange.
When they're finished with lunch, Proteus thanks them both for their time and heads back to the castle. Maura and Keelan wander the gardens, waiting for Birdie and her governess. Maura's expression is tight, but when she sees the sun glint off her baby sister's hair, her whole body relaxes and her face lights up with a smile.
“Princess Maura!” the governess says, curtsying quickly. “I did not know you would be out here.”
“Sissy!” Birdie shrieks, flinging herself at Maura. Maura catches her with a laugh, Birdie's little hands wrinkling the fine velvet of her riding dress. “Do you want to go to the pond or the maze?”
Maura glances at Keelan, laughter in her eyes, and says, “Sir Keelan, do you think the water will be too cold?”
He shrugs. “I am not an expert, princess.”
“Let's go to the pond,” Maura says to Birdie. She dismisses the governess with a kind smile and lets Birdie chatter about her morning while they make their way to the pond. Keelan feels the tension drain from his shoulders at the sight of Maura so happy. Whatever reservations she'd had about Birdie at the market that morning have dissipated.
Birdie dips her toe into the water when they get there. “No, it's too cold.” She turns around and runs to Keelan, jumping up to grab his arm. “Swing me in anyway!”
He laughs, swinging her back and forth as he walks towards the pond. “Are you sure? You remember what happened last time?”
“I'm sure!” She kicks her feet as they near the edge. “Swing me in!”
“If you're sure.” He swings her back, adjusting his grip on her so that he can get better leverage. As he swings her out again, he throws her as far out over the water as he can. She shrieks when she hits the water, popping up with shivering laughter. She paddles towards the shore, climbing out of the pond with her clothes clinging to her legs and her silver hair sticking to her face.
“Do the spell now!” she says to Maura, her teeth chattering. Maura laughs, cupping her hands in front of her mouth and starting to whisper. A golden glow expands from her hands, enveloping Birdie with soft light. The water floats off of her, hovering around her in little droplets. When all the water has been pulled from her clothes and hair, Maura lowers her hands and the water falls to the ground. The golden glow stays around Birdie for another moment, warming her until her teeth stop chattering.
“I'm not doing it again,” Maura says when Birdie looks ready to ask. “It can't be good for you and I'll get too tired.”
“That's okay!” Birdie finds a stick on the ground. “Keys and me can swordfight while you rest if you want!” She immediately attacks Keelan's legs with her stick, shouting, “Take that!”
He falls over, crying out like she'd hit him with a real sword. “I'm dying! The princess is too fierce for me!”
Birdie continues to smack him with the stick. “That'll teach you!”
“I think he's learned his lesson,” Maura says, amused.
Birdie doesn't seem to notice, continuing to hit Keelan's legs with her stick. “You have been de-feet-ed!”
Keelan laughs and surges upwards, tackling her to the ground. “Not yet I haven't!”
She is a vicious wrestler, unafraid to use teeth, but he's had a year to get used to her tactics. He gives her some time to tire herself out before letting her win, again proclaiming her too fierce for him. It gets too cold to stay in the gardens, so they go inside and Birdie shows off her drawings and paintings. She falls asleep not long after and Maura tucks her into bed.
Keelan pulls Birdie's door shut. “What now, princess?”
Maura sighs, not unhappily, and wanders in the direction of the stairs. “I think I would like a snack.”
Keelan gladly follows her to the kitchens.
{*}
Maura looks up from her book. “Do you think it's possible to speak with dragons?”
Keelan shrugs, frowning at his crooked writing. “I've never met one, so I can't say.”
She laughs. “Of course. I just mean...” She shifts a little in the grass. “There's a line in the prophecy—”
“Maura.” Keelan sets down his letters. “We talked about this. It's not worth worrying about.”
“But Levi could be lying!” She sits up from where she was leaning against his legs. turning to face him. “He could be lying about Birdie's power, about what he's teaching her, about what the prophecy means!”
“What reason does he have to lie?”
Maura's eyes widen incredulously. “Birdie's his daughter, Keys. The prophecy includes my fall. Can you not see what his motives could be?”
Keelan sighs, reaching up to rub his eyes. “Birdie is still your sister.”
“And she is not at fault for any of this,” Maura says softly. “She's only a child.” Her voice hardens. “But Levi has been messing with our heads and my mother let him. We can't trust him.”
“I agree,” Keelan says, reaching out to take her hand. She presses her fingers against his wrist. “But that doesn't mean we have to question everything about the prophecy. For now, we have no idea what it means. You're not even queen yet; we have plenty of time to figure it out.” He lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles. “No sense worrying about things we can't change.”
She sighs. “I suppose you're right.”
He smiles. “It's almost lunchtime. Do you want to head inside now?”
Her stomach growls and she laughs. “I suppose I do. I bet Stiofán has something delicious cooked up for us.”
“Doesn't he always?” Keelan pulls her to her feet and she loops her arm through his as they walk back through the gardens. In the week since she discovered Levi and her mother in the library, she's grown more and more worried about the prophecy. His attempts at keeping her distracted are working so far, but he still worries about her.
She puts space between them when they reach the royal wing, but he is still invited into the private dining room for the royal family.
Birdie was sneezing in the morning, so she isn't at lunch, but Proteus, Rosaleen, and Levi are all present. Keelan is welcomed warmly and takes his usual seat next to Maura.
Lunch is roasted winter squash soup served in hollowed loaves of bread, followed by meat-and-cheese sandwiches. Keelan isn't sure he'll ever get used to the food at the castle, but the soup reminds him of home and he makes a mental note to ask Stiofán for the recipe sometime.
The bells chime noon and Proteus looks up from his food. “Ah. I must go.” He stands and kisses Rosaleen's cheek, then Maura's. “My wife. My beautiful daughter. I will see you at court.”
The table is quieter after he leaves. Rosaleen is the next to get up. She smooths her hand over Maura's hair. “I'm going to check on Birdie. I'll see you at court as well.”
She is halfway to the door when she lets out a small gasp, stumbling. Her hand flies to her chest and she coughs like there is something caught in her throat.
“Rose?” Levi shoots to his feet. “What's wrong?”
Rosaleen waves one hand, shooting a weak smile over her shoulder. “Just got lightheaded for a moment. I'm fine.”
She takes another step forward and collapses to the floor.
Maura screams.
Levi is on his knees at Rosaleen's side in an instant, turning her over, blue magic sparking at his fingertips. Maura drops down next to him and shakes her mother's shoulder. Keelan can taste sour grapevines and the tang of blood. Flames lick at his back.
“Get away from her!” Maura shoves Levi backwards, placing herself between him and her mother. Rosaleen is horribly, unnaturally still on the marble floor, her eyes dull and unblinking. “You did this! You killed her!”
Levi's eyes are wild and desperate. “Get out of my way. I'm trying to help her!”
“Guards!” Maura's scream echoes through Keelan's head. The queen's chest hasn't moved in over a minute. The doors fly open and guards burst into the room. Keelan puts his hand on the hilt of his sword. One of the guards steps forward, wide eyes locked on Rosaleen's body.
“Princess! What happened?”
“He killed my mother!” Maura points at Levi. “Take him!”
Levi's expression shifts to one of rage. He brings his hands together with a flash of blue lightning. Keelan shuts his eyes against the onslaught. When the light fades, he opens his eyes to see that Levi has disappeared. Keelan blinks away the blue afterimage that clings to Maura, his hand still on the hilt of his sword. The other soldiers all look to him.
The Queen's Knight.
“Go after him!” he orders.
“Kill him!” Maura screams, tears streaking her face. “He murdered my mother!”
Proteus appears in the doorway, his face ashen. “Rosie?”
Keelan can't move. The king wails and the princess screams, “Wake up, Momma!” and he stands there, utterly useless.
Birdie.
“I will go ensure Princess Brigit's safety,” he manages to say. Proteus has pulled Maura against his side protectively and has Rosaleen's head pillowed in his lap, red hair tangling with blonde.
“Go,” Proteus says hoarsely. “Keep her safe.” He lowers his gaze to Rosaleen. “Tell her nothing.”
“Yes, my king.”
Grim-faced servants scatter before him and soldiers' shouted orders echo through the corridors. Birdie's door is painted with silver birds perched on the branches of a flowering tree. It's already ajar.
“Birdie!” He flings the door open and sees Levi crouched down in front of Birdie. He immediately draws his sword. “Get away from the princess.”
Magic sparks at Levi's fingertips. “I don't want to hurt you, Keelan.”
“Birdie, get away from him,” Keelan says. “Get behind me.”
“I'm scared,” she says, her lip trembling.
“It's going to be okay,” Levi says. He reaches for her but Keelan is faster, darting forward and pushing Levi away. Levi stumbles into the bookshelf and Keelan pulls Birdie behind him. Levi stands, fire in his eyes. “You don't understand—”
“It's my duty to protect the princess,” Keelan says steadily, his mind clearing of panic. Soldiers are on their way; he can hear the footsteps. “Don't get in my way. I don't want to hurt you, but I will.” He glances down at Birdie. “Don't be scared, duckling. Go out into the hall; I'll be right there.”
“Birdie, don't,” Levi says, but Keelan levels his sword at him as Birdie scurries out of the room. Keelan hears a soldier shout, “We've located the princess!”
“You're making a mistake,” Levi says. “I didn't kill Rose. I would never.”
Keelan's fingers tighten around his sword. “How many times did you erase her memory?” he demands. “How many times? How many times did you mess with her head, mess with my head?”
Levi's eyes narrows. “Maura's memories—”
“Are filled with your lies, for all she knows.”
Levi steps forward and Keelan raises his sword slightly, preparing to strike. Levi searches his gaze for a moment, his own softening a little. “You're not a killer, Keelan.”
“You're wrong.” Keelan's sword falls.
Levi disappears in a blink and Keelan's sword strikes only empty air. He lets out a scream of frustration.
He got away.
Keelan inhales slowly, deeply, until he no longer feels the need to hack something to splinters. He sheaths his sword and goes out into the hall.
Birdie trembles like a leaf when he crouches down in front of her. “What's going on? Levi said we were going on a trip.”
“Don't be scared,” Keelan says, smiling at her. “It's only a game.”
She sniffs. “A game?”
“Yes, a game.” He reaches out to take her hand. “Like hide and seek, and Levi is it. We're all trying to find him.”
She sniffs again. “Then why did he say we were going to the lake?”
Keelan shivers. Why the lake? “Because everyone wants to spend time with you, duckling.”
She rubs her eyes, the tears fading. “Can I play the game?”
“Sure,” Keelan says. “You're the princess that I have to protect from the evil witch.”
“Hm.” Birdie takes his hand and lets him lead her back into her room. “Some witches are bad,” she says thoughtfully. “But witches should be good.” She looks up at him with wide silver eyes. “Do you think I'll be a good witch?”
His heart cracks open as he see's her mother's smile between her dimples. “You'll be the best witch there ever was.”
He stays with Birdie the rest of the day, distracting her from the chaos in the castle with games and stories. Every once in a while, a soldier will stop by to ask a question about the search for Levi. Apparently the king and the princess have locked themselves in their Guildin chapel with the queen's body and refuse to see anyone, so Keelan is left in charge of the manhunt.
It's approaching midnight when one of the soldiers informs Keelan that he's been summoned by the king.
Birdie is fast asleep, drooling and snoring, but Keelan is still hesitant to leave her alone. He stations two guards in her bedroom with instructions to detain anyone trying to enter the princess's bedroom and killed if they have so much as a butterknife. Levi is to be killed on sight.
“If anything happens to the princess,” Keelan warns, his hand on the hilt of his sword, “I'll kill you both myself.”
They swear to guard Birdie with their lives.
Proteus is in the throne room, slouched in his throne with his head resting on one hand. He looks up when Keelan enters. Keelan notes with a twist in his stomach that Maura is nowhere to be seen. He kneels at the base of the steps up to the thrones. “My king.”
Proteus shifts, sitting up. “Sir Keelan. My daughter?”
“Fast asleep. There are two guards posted inside her room and eight more in the hall. All have sworn their lives to her safety.” Proteus nods. Keelan's eyes dart to Maura's empty throne. “I told her it was all a game and played with her until she went to bed. I didn't...” He swallows, meeting Proteus's eyes again. “She doesn't know anything.”
“Good,” Proteus sighs, his shoulders slumping again. “I still don't know how to begin to tell her...and Levi's betrayal.” His expression twists with anger. “Magic corrupts. Perhaps he was a good man once, but the devil has him now.” His hands curl into fists on the arms of his throne. “I suspect he will try to break into the library, to steal his cursed research. I want you to ensure that all of it is destroyed.”
Keelan pales a little. “My king...” He inhales sharply, steadying himself. “How?”
Proteus lowers his head to his hands again. “I don't care, Keelan. Burn it, shred it, throw it in the lake. As long as it's gone. Now go.”
“Yes, sir.” Keelan leaves the throne room nauseous with anxiety. Where is Maura?
His toes are numb when he reaches the library. He might be hyperventilating. Proteus would have said something if Maura had been hurt.
“Keys!”
He shuts his eyes as she hits him with a hug and swear to gods, ancestors, and moons that he'll die before Levi ever hurts her again. He wraps his arms around her, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Maura. Are you hurt?”
“No.” Her fingers dig into his back. “Don't tell Father I was here. He's been keeping me locked up.”
“He's afraid for you.” Keelan keeps hold of her but starts down the corridor, gently pulling her along. “I'm afraid for you.”
Magic sparks at Maura's fingertips. “Levi should be the one who's afraid.”
“We'll find him,” Keelan promises. They reach the royal wing and he glances down the hallway at the guards stationed outside Birdie's room. He nudges Maura back into her room, stepping in so that none of the soldiers can see him. He presses a kiss to Maura's forehead. “And I'll kill him for you.”
Something new and dark glimmers in her eye. “Leave a piece for me.”
He hates to leave her, but she promises to stay put and he goes back to the library. Levi's research is scattered across his desk. He calls a few other soldiers in and gestures at the mess. “Gather it up. Take it...” He curls his fingers into his palm, thinking of Maura's eyes when she shows him the spells she's been learning. “Take it to Princess Maura. She wishes to destroy it herself.”
There is a loud pop and Keelan whirls around, drawing his sword. Levi is standing there, blinking in shock at Keelan.
Keelan swallows his burning rage and motions for the other soldiers to stay back. “He's mine.”
Levi's eyes dart to the research. A calculation runs through his eyes and they narrow as it completes. “You're here. That means Birdie...” He meets Keelan's gaze for a heartbeat before he disappears again. Keelan stomach drops and he tears out of the library, sprinting through the corridors. Let me get there in time.
The guards in the hall are unconscious. He throws open Birdie's bedroom door. Her bed is empty, the sheets rumpled like she'd been pulled suddenly from them. The two guards he stationed inside are dead, slit throats still gushing blood, but it's what caught in the pool of blood that makes Keelan turn and vomit. Locks of silver hair, so long that the knife must have scraped Birdie's scalp. Enough that she wouldn't have had hair left. He heaves until his stomach is empty. He can't tell if the smears of blood on the stone floor were made by a body being dragged. He can't tell if there's so much blood on the floor already because some of it belongs to the sleeping girl he left—
Maura screams Birdie's name and Keelan whips around, slamming her against him in a tight embrace. He barks orders at the soldiers that arrive after her and keeps her face turned into his chest so that she can't see the blood anymore. She is sobbing, clutching his purple cloak. He takes her to an alcove away from prying eyes and her legs give out. He sinks to the ground, cradling her against his chest. He pretends that if he holds her tight enough, if he keeps her in his arms forever, it will take away her pain.
It won't bring back her mother or Birdie.
“I'll kill him,” Maura rages, her hands fisted in Keelan's shirt. “I'll hunt him down and kill him slow.”
He rocks her back and forth, stroking her hair. He has no words for her, nothing that could possibly soothe her. Tears of his own slide down his cheeks. Birdie, Rosaleen, gone. All in one day. And Keelan couldn't save them.
“This is my fault,” he says. Maura stills in his arms and he shuts his eyes. “I was with her, I was keeping her safe. I left her and Levi killed her because I wasn't there to protect her.”
“I'll kill him,” Maura repeats. She curls further into Keelan. “It's not your fault. You did everything you could.”
She falls asleep in his lap and he keeps stroking her hair, staring blankly at the wall. He shouldn't have left her. He should have stayed with Birdie. If he had, maybe she would still be alive.
“Sir Keelan.” King Proteus is standing before him, shaking with rage. Maura jerks awake. “On your knees.”
“Father.” Maura scrambles to her feet. “Father, he—”
“Quiet, Maura.”
Keelan kneels. “My king.”
“My daughter has been murdered. How did this happen?”
Keelan lowers his head. “It's my fault, Your Majesty. Levi took advantage of my absence to... to...” He chokes back his tears and meets the king's eyes. “To kill Princess Brigit.”
“I see.” Proteus's hands curl into fists.
“It's not his fault,” Maura says desperately, grabbing Proteus's arm. “Daddy, please, it's not his—”
“Quiet, Maura.” Proteus shakes her off. “What about the ten soldiers you left to protect the princess? The ones who swore their lives to her safety?”
“The two I stationed in her bedroom were killed. The others were left alive but knocked unconscious.”
“I see.” Proteus draws himself up to his full height. He seems to age ten years in an instant, his expression hardening until it is made of stone. “At least two had the decency to die for their princess.”
“Daddy, please—”
“The remaining eight will be executed for their failure. As for you, their commander, Sir Keelan—”
“It's not his fault, please.” Maura's cheeks are already streaked with tears and more glimmer in her eyes.
Proteus's eyes soften for a half a heartbeat before they are stone again. “The law is the law, Maura. None are exempt.”
“He would have died for her!” Maura pulls Proteus's arm hard enough to force him to look at her. “You know he would have. Please.” She inhales shakily, calming herself. “Please, Father, show mercy. He will be my Knight. I can't—” Her voice breaks but she pushes on. “I can't lose him.”
Proteus closes his eyes. “Twenty-five lashes. If this were Guildi, it would be fifty.”
“I don't deserve such mercy,” Keelan says, despite how Maura motions for him to stop. “Birdie is gone because of me.”
Proteus's eyes flash. “Fifty public lashes, then. Speak to me again and I'll have your tongue as well.”
Keelan lowers his head and Maura whimpers.
“Fetch me a scribe,” Proteus says to the nearest soldier. “The people must be told of their queen's death. Until the crown princess is twenty-one, the law dictates that I must rule as King Regent.” He gestures at Keelan. “This one can await his punishment in the Black Cell. If the crown princess tries to visit him,” he warns as Maura opens her mouth to protest, “he will be given a hundred more lashes at the center of the Grand Market.” His voice is unforgiving. “Until he has been punished, he is to be treated as a traitor to the throne. His failures lead to Princess Brigit's death. I don't want to lay eyes on him unless his back bears the mark of his sins.”
Keelan lets them take him away without a struggle. They don't bother to chain him; he knows exactly where they're going—the Black Cell, a windowless box in the darkest part of the dungeons. Usually reserved for prisoners awaiting execution. He won't be killed after, at least.
Fifty public lashes. He knows of the old punishments, has even seen the crumbling platform where public punishments used to be carried out, but they had almost entirely fallen out of use under Rosaleen's rule. It seems that Proteus is going to be a different kind of king.
Keelan goes into the Black Cell silently, without a fight.
Time is meaningless, passing only if he stops to count his heartbeats. The walls are thick enough to block out the sounds of the rest of the dungeon. The prisoners and criminals had jeered at him as he passed by, but he is left in silence now. He is chained by his wrists to the wall; the chain is long enough to let him pace a small circle around the tiny cell. He finally sits on the floor, resting his head against the wall. It's almost impossible to imagine light in a place so dark. There is nothing to do but be tormented by his own regrets.
He'll be begging to be executed by the time they release him.
He is thinking of Birdie's weight in his arms as he carried her to bed when a light sparks to life in front of him. He raises one hand to shade his eyes.
A golden spark hovers in the air in front of him. As his eyes adjust to the light, the spark expands until it is a familiar ball of golden light, one that he's seen Maura summon a hundred times. He reaches out and it settles in his cupped palms. Warmth travels up his arm and into his chest. Tears well up behind his eyes.
“Thank you,” he whispers to the light.
#lacuna#rb original#original fiction#writeblr#keelan#maura#indie author#writeblr community#fantasy novel#the plot has arrived and it's here to stay :}#i typed a lot of this with only six fingers (see electric mixer incident) but i think i got all the typos out lol
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vaguely i still go here but i would like to hear more about the alfreyco outlast au??? that sounds so interesting to me??
ooommgg Lee that fic has been plagueing my brain since last year I think?? It's basically Alfredo and Trevor (the Red Web versions of themselves) going in place of Miles to Mount Massive Asylum and they basically have to go through the whole game except it's not a game to them it's real life. And after several months I've finally FINALLY gotten them into the building so now they get to actually face the horrors of the asylum (and ya know, reveal the feelings they've had for each other for years along the way too)
Since I love this story so much I'm gonna give you a snippet too :3
Welp, there goes Alfredo’s hope that the night would return to its regularly scheduled programming of scouring the internet for cases and watching whatever movie happened to be on TV at the moment. He juts his bottom lip out in a pout, but it serves no purpose seeing as Trevor’s back is already to him and quickly walking towards the left side of the building. Alfredo follows Trevor around the side of the building, still secretly hoping that this is where their journey ends for the night. Unfortunately, it seems no one is listening to Alfredo’s hopes and prayers tonight when Trevor stops in front of the gate that leads to the interior courtyard of the facility. A decent sized hole rests in the bottom left corner of the gate; it looks like it was created by someone pushing it inward from the outside. Maybe it was something done by the soldiers that had been summoned here? It certainly wasn’t from natural causes like rust or age. The sign of used force makes a feeling of unease tap its icy fingers across Alfredo’s spine. “Well that’s a sign of poor maintenance! It’s almost like they want us to break in here,” Trevor muses. He runs a quick hand through his hair to push the few stubborn strands away from his forehead and crouches down to examine the hole before crab-shuffling his way through the man-made hole. Once successfully through, he rounds to flash a smile at Alfredo, who gives him the most unimpressed expression his face can muster. “Aw don’t be such a sourpuss! We'll get in: sneak around, take some snappies, take some video, maybe grab a few documents nobody will miss, hopefully, and then skedaddle out of here before anyone is the wiser. We’ll be home in time for supper." He finishes his little spiel with a flourish of outstretched arms. He hopes it sounds as confident and care-free as he’s trying to make it, because the ominous behemoth of a building standing behind them is making it a bit hard to sell his act to his reasonably worried partner. Alfredo throws a glance up at the building behind Trevor, and then back to the gate lying beyond the vehicles, his Adam's apple bobbing. That gate is their only way back to the outside world and he’s about to put yet another gate between himself and it. “Fredo, please,” Trevor urges from the other side of the gate now in a volume a little above a whisper. "Come on." “Alright, alright I'm coming.” With a sigh, Alfredo complies and folds his 6’2” frame down until he can scoot through the hole in the gate. He can feel the iron bars of the gate grazing the top of his head as he passes through to the other side. Once free from the gate, he stands next to Trevor and the two take a minute to figure out where to go from here. The inside of the stone-walled courtyard looks just as bleak as the exterior; dead leaves dust the brick walkway that surrounds a fountain sitting in grayish water. The only warmth, if you can call it that, in the courtyard comes from the yellow lighting pouring from the few well lit windows that line the first floor.
#hey a question#rtah#alfreyco#ghoulangerlee#even if u don't go here anymore you are always ALWAYS more than welcome to ask me stuff :3#and thank u for ur interest in my wip#can't wait to work on it more now that they're inside the damn building
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Chapter 3: Lord Sooga
- Michiko and Sooga meet for the first time.
- mentions of torture and mild violence, more original characters are introduced. Brief descriptions of genocide.
When Michiko appeared in the Faron Woods, she realized that she didn’t teleport herself to where the rest of the Yiga were, so she started running her way further into the woods — she was running so fast she felt like her lungs had been lit on fire. And by the time she spotted a banana tree a little further down, she decided to walk the rest of the way while scouting her surroundings and keeping a hand resting on her vicious sickle as she approached the tree.
“There have been reports of some of our members going missing in action. And as far as we know, the Royal guards are behind this.” A deep voice behind her stated.
Michiko flinched and turned around, standing before her was the owner of the deep voice.
“Good grief, you scared me.”
“Apologies, I am Lord Sooga, right hand man of the master.”
Although he was taller than herself, he didn’t sound that much older than her, maybe a year or even two. The two of them walked side by side as she introduced herself.
“Michiko. Foot soldier rank.”
“You must be the backup I sent that other foot soldier for. Follow me.” He spun around and started making his way deeper into the woods.
“The other foot soldiers are scouting for information on any leads that can help us find the missing foot soldiers. Did the footsoldier I sent brief you on the details?”
“No,” Michiko said, shaking her head. “Have you come across any of them? From the royal family I mean.”
“Yes. And there might be royal guards around here.” Sooga added as she gulped.
He spoke so casually, yet it wasn’t enough to calm her. From what Einosuke had told her was that the Royal family and other Sheikah were enemies of the Yiga Clan. Due to the fact that about 10,000 years ago, the Sheikah were allies of the Royal family. And while they were preparing for the first Great Calamity, their advanced technology came to be viewed as the threat to the kingdom. Therefore putting them at odds with the King and his people. Soon after, they were exiled.
Families were separated, homes were destroyed, some of them were even tortured and killed. So the ones that remained fled and remained hidden in the shadows. Even to this day.
“Is it possible that the King might’ve come along to capture them himself?” She asked.
“As far as my investigations have led me to believe, no. I believe only the guards might’ve done this on their own accord. The King is apparently focused on training the Princess to awaken her sealing powers.”
“Are any more Yiga coming to assist us?” Michiko asked.
Sooga shook his head, no. “The foot soldier I sent to come to get you informed me that only one of the newest recruits was going to be coming. Which would be you. We’re going to have to fight valiantly if we want to come out victorious from this battle.”
“We’re going to have to follow the tracks I’ve found. Keep your eyes open for danger. I believe the guards are most likely planning an ambush, so you’ll need to pay extra attention to your surroundings.” Sooga advised.
Michiko nodded in affirmation, as her hand rested on her vicious sickle. Both her and Sooga walk silently through the woods. Eventually, they reach a pathway where there’s fresh footprints stamped on the dirt. She silently follows Sooga, watching over her shoulder for any signs of enemy attacks. They both follow along the trail before he sticks out his arm to stop her. He points to the ground as the footprints abruptly stop near a waterfall.
“Where could they have gone?” Michiko wondered.
“I’m not sure, taking them back to the castle wouldn’t have been the wisest thing.” Sooga responded.
Michiko looked around from where she originally arrived. There’s nothing but trees surrounding them and with the sun setting, it’s almost hard to see. Suddenly, a figure emerged from behind the trees as she pulled out her sickle in front of her in a defensive stance.
“Lord Sooga, look ahead!” Michiko called out.
A lone Royal army captain stood in front of them with a footsoldier in his clutches. “Forgive me, Lord Sooga.” The foot soldier said. “They tortured me.”
Michiko clenched her right hand into a fist as the footsoldier fell to his knees. They really are cruel people.
“Oh, look! It’s more Yiga scum to torture.” The captain said as he studied both of them carefully.
“It’s another young foot soldier and a blademaster. Hopefully soon we’ll put an end to your kind for once and for all. We’ve got two more!” The captain called out as two Hyrulean soldiers emerged.
As the wounded footsoldier tried to stand up to make his way towards Sooga and Michiko, the Royal captain stabbed and killed the foot soldier. His body went limp as he dropped forward lifeless. Her stomach lurched at the sight but she remained steady. Michiko wasn’t about to let some royal knights intimidate her.
“Michiko, I’ll take on the royal captain. You take on the other two.” Sooga whispered to her. She nodded as backed away and turned her focus on the two hyrulean soldiers. Sooga takes the chance and charges towards the captain and the two begin dueling. With the ability to disappear at will, Michiko realizes she can use it to her advantage. The two soldiers look around frantically for the young woman that disappeared before their eyes.
She suddenly reappeared a few seconds later with her vicious sickle in hand, and she managed to land a cut across one of the soldiers face.
The royal captain tries to make his way towards her, but Sooga blocks him with his dual swords and the two continue fighting.
While one of the soldiers is holding his face and groaning in pain, Michiko focuses on the other soldier as the two go back and forth with attacks. She unleashes a series of slashes at the soldier and he finally drops dead while the other one is somewhat recovered. The slash on his face was still bleeding profusely but his duty was to take down every Yiga in existence. He was seemingly a bit more experienced than his dead comrade as his attacks were a combination of defense and offensive tactics.
Michiko tried using the disappearing technique once more, but the soldier quickly reacted and knocked her sickle away from her hand and pinned her to the ground. “Playtime is over, you’re coming with us.” The soldier said.
“This is it.” Michiko thought. “I failed and I’m going to end up like that footsoldier who died today.”
She prepared herself for the worst and out of the corner of her eye, Michiko saw Sooga take down the captain as he dropped dead and was now heading in her direction.
“Leave her alone!” Sooga called out as his swords made contact with the soldier and slumped forward, falling on top of her. He quickly pulled the body off of her and helped her stand up.
“Are you okay?” Sooga asked as he looked over at her for any signs of injuries.
“Yes, thank you for saving my life just now.”
The two of them headed over to where the body of the foot soldier lay to take him back to the hideout and give him a proper resting place.
Back at the hideout, after giving the foot soldier a resting place, Michiko finds Sooga sitting outside the hideout by himself.
“His name was Haruto and he always talked about becoming a blademaster someday.” Sooga commented. Michiko frowned as she silently took a seat next to him. “I’m sorry we didn’t save him.”
“It’s not your fault or mine. His body was already failing him when they brought him forward from all the torture he endured. If we would’ve tried to bring him back here, we would’ve only prolonged his suffering. There was nothing we could’ve done.”
The two of them sat in silence for a moment until Sooga spoke up once again. “Michiko, I’m very impressed with your performance today. It would’ve taken me longer to complete the task without your help. You’re a very strong footsoldier.”
Michiko blushed at his compliment and she was thankful that the mask was still on to conceal it. “Thank you, Lord Sooga.”
“I’m curious, who trained you?”
“My adoptive father.. Einosuke. He’s a retired blade master and started training me when I was thirteen years old.” She explained.
“I’ve heard of him before. Both he and his wife were highly regarded when they were active in the clan.”
“They were?”
“Yes. Master Kohga has spoken highly about them. I’ve heard stories about how he was the most formidable warrior in the clan. And now here I am having a conversation with his daughter.”
Michiko chuckled and hummed in agreement.
“Your arm, Michiko.” Sooga suddenly states, almost in a matter of factly way.
Then, the most unexpected thing happened, Sooga slowly pulled his mask off as he assessed the wound on her arm. Behind the mask, she carefully studied his features. Sheikah red irises, dark thick lashes and a set of furrowed thick eyebrows. And his skin looked sunkissed. If anything, he was no more than a year older than her. He’s handsome. She thought.
“You’re going to need stitches, can you remove the upper part of your uniform so I can look at your arm?”
Her eyes widen at the request and she blushes and looks over at Sooga. Then she realizes that her mask is going to have to come off too so she can remove the upper part of her uniform. Thankfully she was wearing another sleeveless top underneath.
Michiko’s mask slowly comes off as she feels her cheeks warm up slightly and she shyly gives Sooga a small smile and he slightly blushes as well?
Thankfully he turns his attention towards her arm and helps her out by mending the wound. Once he finishes, Sooga stands up and looks towards the hideout.
“Um, I’ll be heading inside now, Michiko. Continue to master your skills — hopefully someday we’ll have you among the blademasters. Until we meet again.”
And with that, he heads off into the hideout while Michiko remained in the same spot a little bit longer, then teleported herself back home to her family.
If you’d like to get tagged, send me an ask! 🩷
Taglist: @icantgetnosatiisfaction
#Sooga x oc#sooga x original character#sooga#yiga clan#aoc sooga#the eyes of fate#the legend of Zelda fanfic#hyrule warriors age of calamity#legend of zelda fanfiction#yiga oc
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Chapter 3: The Escapee
IWWA RESEARCH FACILITY
ST. LUCIA
The head scientist leading the lab experiments, simply known by his recruits and staff as Boss, usually spent the lights-out time working in the lab or in his office. Every day he performed tests on the twenty subjects in the large experiment room, testing their abilities to the limit. He was around the recruits for most of the day, so when bedtime happened, that was his time to himself. He and the guards were able to take a breather from marching around and barking out orders at the junior soldiers.
The soldiers were in their rooms for the night. One of the guards walked down the hall of doors and knocked on each one as a reminder for them to turn their lights off. They were the perfect subjects, always doing what they were told.
Tonight, Boss was in the lab. He was going over the results for earlier that day. The soldiers had done more exercises in mastering their telekinesis. The room was average size, the only light coming from a bluish-white bulb on the ceiling over the wash station. Boss stood at the long table next to the sink, a pile of papers set in front of him.
He reached into the pocket of his white lab coat for his glasses when a loud, continuous alarm began blaring. His phone screen lit up on the table next to him with a banner flashing across it.
“What in the world?” He grabbed it up in surprise and read the message on the banner.
RED ALERT. SECURITY BREACH. TEST SUBJECT OFF PREMISES.
“Oh, you’ve got to be freaking kidding me!” Boss tightened his hand into a fist at his side as his expression changed from content to rage. He jammed his blaring phone into the back pocket of his pants and burst out of the lab.
“Bar the doors!” he shouted as he began passing by agents on their off hours. “There’s been a security breach! I repeat: there has been a security breach!”
“Boss?” One of the agents looked at him curiously.
“Where’s Michaelson? And Abrams?” Boss stormed down the hall with a couple agents struggling to keep up.
“The last I saw Michaelson, he was in the break room,” said one. “What’s going on, Boss?”
“I want all of you to make sure no one gets out of this building,” Boss barked. “Lane, did you do the lights-out sweep?”
“Yes, Boss. I knocked twice on all doors.” The one called Lane saluted.
“We just had a security breach,” Boss explained. “Grab Michaelson and Abrams. We need to fix this now!” He pulled out his phone and showed them the notification.
“Test Subject Off Premises? How??”
“I don’t know how! I just got the alert a moment ago. One of our soldiers is missing. Find out who!” Boss was raging.
“Yes, Boss!” Lane raced down the hall.
The two agents that had begun following Boss after he had appeared from the lab stood by.
“What do you want us to do, Boss?” one of them asked.
“Page Michaelson and Abrams,” Boss ordered. “They’re the most experienced fielders. Have them start the search outside!”
Boss glanced down at his phone and unlocked it, opening his tracker application. A map of the IWWA facility appeared on it, small red dots marking the locations of the nineteen remaining soldiers. All but one were holed up in their bunks.
“Aha! I knew it! That sneaky little rat!” Boss glared at the map. “Always trouble, that one. She was trouble from the day we took her in! She’s tried to escape so many times since coming here, and now she’s gone too far!”
A little while later, two more agents strolled down the hall, clad in full armor and wearing heavy combat boots.
“Agents Michaelson and Abrams reporting for duty!” The first agent saluted Boss. “You wanted to see us, Boss?”
“Yes, I did. Thanks for coming.” Boss nodded at Lane subtly. Lane nodded back. Boss showed the agents the blueprint of the facility on his phone. “I have an assignment for you two. I just received notification that one of my test subjects is off the premises. Find Number Twenty and retrieve her. Take her kicking and screaming if you have to. Whatever works.”
“Boss?” Abrams. His eyebrows raised.
“Number Twenty has fled the facility,” Boss explained. “I don’t know how, or why, but she somehow slipped past security. She was always a tough nut to deal with. When we discovered her, she put up quite the fight. She’s attempted escape one too many times, and this time, she’s tried my patience. No one is supposed to be able to leave here, and she just did. Find her and bring her home. There are severe punishments for recruits that try to get free.”
“Yes, Boss.” Abrams saluted.
“Agent Michaelson, geared up and ready for work, Boss!” Michaelson faced his leader confidently. “Is Twenty far from here?”
“Let me check.” Boss swiped a few times across his phone, searching past the facility and on to surrounding areas. “Dammit! She’s not even outside the building! I think she may have actually succeeded in clearing the boundaries this time.” He kicked the wall in frustration. “Dammit! That girl is gonna get hell!”
“Don’t worry, Boss. We’ll find her,” Abrams assured him. “We can locate her by her tracking chip once we start moving outwards. We’ve got our devices handy.” He gestured to his right shoulder, where a rectangular black device was hooked to his strap. “These things are ten times more powerful than a cell phone,” he reminded him. “They haven’t let us down yet.”
“Yes.” Boss nodded. “I'm glad that invention has helped you so well. Hurry. Knowing Twenty, she could be anywhere now, and getting further away. I knew I smelled a rat with her the first time she got out of the experiment room!” He muttered the last words angrily and turned to Michaelson. “She’s a slippery one,” he reminded him. “Use brute force if you have to. I won’t let any of my soldiers make a mockery of me or this organization. And tread lightly when leaving: it is lights-out hour, and we can’t afford to awaken the children.”
“Yes, Boss.” Michaelson and Abrams spoke in unison, saluted, and headed down the hall in the opposite direction. Their boots thudded softly on the hard floor. Other agents lingering around stepped aside for them as they passed.
“Let’s go, Abrams.” Michaelson spoke. “Time is ticking.”
Abrams swiped his key card into the slot by the giant metal door, the same door Twenty had opened hours earlier, and it creaked open. The two men looked back at the agents that were standing around and gave them subtle nods. The door closed slowly and audibly behind them.
Once they were a good distance away from the building, Michaelson unhooked the device from his shoulder strap.
“Okay, you little soldier, where are you?” he muttered, flipping the switch. The tracker hummed, and a rough map of the land around them appeared. A lone red dot was pulsing in place a couple miles north of where they were. “Gotcha.”
“Sir.” Abrams spoke a distance away. “I think I got something.”
“Me, too.” Michaelson began moving in a straight line forward. The dot didn't move.
Abrams moved in the same direction, following the signal.
“No movement,” Abrams commented. “She’s stationary. Zoom in.”
“Affirmative.” Michaelson pressed a button. The map moved on the screen.
“We got her. I’d know that sign anywhere.” Abrams.
“Looks like she’s holed up in some place called...” Michaelson squinted. “Sa Ka Fete Restaurant.” He frowned. “What in the green Earth would Twenty be doing at a restaurant of all places? It’s almost as if she wants to be found.”
“It’s Twenty,” Abrams commented. “Why has she done anything strange in the past twenty years? The girl’s a rebel. A true warrior. Now I know why Boss favors her so much. She’s got fighting drive. Perfect for our mission.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Michaelson rolled his eyes. “Let’s get to this Sa Ka Fete joint before we lose her again.”
They continued straight. The pulsing red dot grew closer. Whatever the recruit was doing, she was clearly in no hurry to leave. Perhaps they stood a chance and could grab her before she knew what was happening.
“Remember what Boss said,” Abrams warned. “Take caution. She’s managed to succeed in escaping all the way out here. If she figures we’re onto her, who knows what she’ll try to do next. I brought the sedative just in case she flails.”
“Right on.” Michaelson. “What should we do when we catch her? I can call it in to Boss.”
“That’s the plan,” Abrams answered. “We head in, grab the girl, and then tell Boss. We can’t risk her slipping through our fingers before he hears about it. Eyes on the prize.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Michaelson. “Eyes on the prize. We know where she is now. This should be a piece of cake.”
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