#ART SKILLS ARE STILL A SMALL BIT RUSTY.. BUT ITS GOING BETTER | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-headbop-wraith · 4 years

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1_18 Connected Roads

It was dangerous and illegal, but this particular stretch of road was heavy with the rumors warning of the many accidents that had occurred over the course of a few decades. These tragedies were sometimes attributed to the reckless drivers, the sharp turns, and narrow roads, along with the outdated nature of the old road itself. But what narrow, silt ridden road in the mountains was not known for tragedy?

They had seen a few of the memorials assembled by family, friends – bundles of cotton flowers tattered, colors faded, Styrofoam sentries caked in mud. Tributes to the lost, forgotten, left to wither and decay. It had been years since anyone thought to renew the memories.

The deep fog and dismal rain matched the mood. Vivi wasn’t certain if the weathers activity was entirely natural, but she supposed later on the road that it must’ve been typical weather patterns for the season. When they had entered the high mountain elevation there had been a large swell of cloud cover, a huge mushroom of frothy, white rolling through the pines. In a matter of seconds a pleasant fall day had become frigid and muggy. The damp, chilled air clung to the open window of the van as Lewis took the tight turns, through the trees and down the steep sloping roads. Thick gurgles rolled out of the engine as he applied the gas, the motor rumbled and wheezed on the cold air clawing across the pipes.

Lewis knew he missed driving, but he didn’t realize just how much he had missed it. The novelty of it mostly, but there was no denying the simple freedom of getting behind the wheel of the van, taking control of the acceleration, the gentle motions of their little transportable home on the road. He didn’t have it in him to forewarn Vivi that he might’ve been a ‘little’ rusty when the subject had come up. Vivi’s idea, out of the blue (literally), after they had stopped for a late – late brunch. She brought it up with Arthur when he returned from a walk with Mystery. Lewis knew he gave Arthur an obscure look, but Arthur had misunderstood it. Typical.

Once upon a time Lewis knew how to drive the manual shift, but he didn’t know if he would remember. There was a special technique when it came to manual. The van was automatic, and the road stretched on and on after he set the drive for lower gear to make up for all the steep downgrade. The lazy speed helped draw back the memories, the motions, everything gradual. Take it slow. Let it all come back, it would if he was patient. He didn’t really forget, but it had been…. a while. Lewis avoided asking too much from Arthur as they puttered along, didn’t want Arthur lingering too close to him. Any didn’t mattered that much, but Lewis felt a smudge of aggravation that had no justifiable origin. Maybe it was just Lewis, or he just wasn’t certain why, but he didn’t want Arthur around. Near him. But Arthur had caught on quick that Lewis still needed a few small reminders in the beginning, and even once Lewis felt assured he could drive on his own, Arthur felt comfortable nesting in the front seat just in case. Lewis kept the driver’s side window open and enjoyed the fresh cold air moving over and through him.

Every few miles Vivi would indicate Lewis to stop off on a clear spot beside the road, and each of them would get out. The three collective living, but never Lewis.

The fog filled branches surrounding them had the sounds of soft rain, pattering the moist pine layered soil with globs of fat droplets. Beneath the sodden tree cover it wasn’t as obvious, as it was on the open road. Wet and damp, everything slick and cold. Vivi wore her sweater, and Arthur was stubborn. He would get out with Mystery in his arms, the two bundled up in the blanket that Arthur had taken to curl up in on the passenger seat. The two would do what they could to help Vivi assemble the prebuilt pieces of reliquary she had patched together while they were on the move.

It took no amount of time to find a suitable secluded location, and then build the little shrine where it would be hidden from the curious. The process was repeated again and again. Lewis’ unease was not missed by Vivi, but it didn’t surprise her. She had researched expulsion incantations, barrier spells, protective wards – he was not immune to their persuasion, even if he wasn’t the intended target. Vivi made mental note to be more careful in future, but for the now she kept careful attention to the ghost’s ticks.

“You would let me know, wouldn’t you?” she asked, for what must’ve been the twelfth time. Vivi had some freshly cut pine branches on one of the older blankets, as she stripped some of its needles and tied twine to hold the branches curled into a circle. The soft light of the small camp lamp offered her and Mystery plenty of visibility, as they mended and weaved. “I don’t know how much of this is affecting you, Lew. Say something if whatever I’m doing is… y’know, hurting you.”

Lewis drummed his fingers along the window sill of the door and looked out through the trees drenched with the gray mist. “Uncomfortable. That’s all,” he said. The van needed some fresh air anyway, with all the incense and resin Vivi was tearing up. “It’s nothing.” He glanced to Arthur in the passenger seat.

“It still bothers you,” she said. Vivi snipped off a bit of her hair and attached it to the base of the thick pine branch. Mystery was pawing at a cut piece of burlap cloth. Vivi noticed Mystery’s activities and watched, as the white dog raised a paw and pulled out small tufts of his own chocolate brown fur there. Vivi rolled it up and tied it to the base of the branch she was working on. “Are you even sure if it hurts or not?” Vivi posed.

Lewis chuckled. He was getting better at that, in the sense that he could make a sound other than the distorted wrong station of the radio he had been ‘projecting’. “It’s probably about the same, then. Don‘t worry yourself.”

“I’m going to,” she said. “And you can’t stop me.” Vivi smiled at the small pink embers to flutter from Lewis’ face. “Where’s that knife?” She turns to Mystery when he plucked up the folded pocketknife from the cover and held it towards her. “Thank you.” She worked for a while, cutting the thread and winding it tightly around the branches base. “How many miles have we come?”

Lewis listened to the draw of the engine and the rattle of the undercarriage. He checked the speedometer through the steering wheel and read off the mileage, a quick calculation snapped up. “We should be getting near the bridge,” Lewis mentioned. He looked to Arthur, who had been mostly silent for their travel. Arthur mumbled something and snuggled down into his blanket. “You have enough supplies to finish?”

“I should. Now where‘d the lighter go?” Vivi fumbled around the mess, pine needles, gummy bits of branches, pieces of twine. It helped that the road had leveled out, she wasn’t worried too much about losing her balance while she was knelt. “What would I do without you?” She ruffled Mystery’s multi-streaked mane, and accepted the lighter he presented to her.

Mystery yapped. He was always glad to help with these little projects. He was pleased with how Vivi’s skill had grown since she first began, and he could take some pride in that if he wasn’t careful.

Lewis checked Arthur again, then, let his gaze snap back on the road. “Something the matter?” Arthur finally asked, without blinking, not even a glance to Lewis.

“No,” Lewis murmured. Of course Arthur was cold. The heater was on full blast, but the damn window was open and it was misting heavier in the lower elevation. “If it starts to rain, I’ll shut the window.”

Arthur cleared his throat some bit and sniffed. “Thanks for the consideration,” he mumbled. Lewis eyes glimmered as he checked Arthur, hardly hiding the action. Arthur coughed as he took a breath of the rough air, but before Arthur could say a word, Lewis’ voice cut through his thoughts.

“Take the wheel,” said the ghost. He was gone in an instant, the black leather coat Lewis had been wearing deflated and plopped onto the driver seat. Arthur gawked, blinked. The van had decelerated but they were still moving, slipping along the resent position of the steering wheel in the bend of the road.

“Fuck! Lew’ss! WHAT?!” Arthur lunged at the spinning wheel and latched on, wincing as the biting cold and wet air hit his face. “Damn— !” In the back Vivi was calling out a question, or warning, her voice was shredded by a muffled eruption. “ –S’IT!” Arthur hissed. He managed to get his eyes open and caught vision of the brilliant burst of magenta flames hissing through the fog directly beside the vans amber wall, outside. There was nothing but the crackling heat and black ash, he couldn’t accurately discern what had happened other than a small eruption that slammed into his eardrums.

“Arthur! What happened?” Vivi yelped, as the van began to sway. She felt the strong vibrations through the metal hull, the strength on par with a collision of some large physical force. “Art!” She threw her arms around Mystery when he struggled to stay in place on the short carpet of the vans floor. This didn’t aid them too much, as they were sliding on the blanket on the floor. Vivi shut her eyes as she held the poor whining dog tight in her arms, the sudden lurch of the van sent her sideways over the floor.

Arthur stuffed his good arm into the space of the steering wheels bars and took his foot off the brake, he kept his eyes locked on the road as the front wheels of the van tipped. The weight dragged them across the road as a screech tore out from the undercarriage, and burnt rubbed filled the open window. “Hold on! Hold on!” He shouts in lack of better caution, only partially focused on the black road sliding out of view. He’d lost track of Lewis, but Arthur wasn’t sure if the large burst of heat was their ghost in the first place. It was just bright. And loud. His ears were still ringing. “Just— Argh!” Arthur cursed when the van skipped sideways on the slick road and smashed the front into two large pines spaced apart.

The bench seat absorbed most of Vivi’s body when she slammed into it, still wrapped around Mystery. Mystery whined as Vivi uncoiled from him and stood up, arched over Arthur. “Say something, Art! You still with me?” Vivi reached her arm to his good shoulder and shook. Arthur jolted when she gripped his shoulder, and he twisted around in his seat to stare at her.

“He left the wheel,” Arthur chattered. “We could – I didn’t— ”

“We’re in one piece!” Vivi snapped. She was staring past Arthur, out the side of the windshield. “Stay put, I’ll see if I can find Lewis.” Arthur gave a sharp cry and tried to grab her, but Vivi had sprung over the front seat and pushed open the passenger door.

“Vi! Wait!” Arthur tried to follow, but Mystery had launched over the seat and bobbed in his way. “Mystery! Move!”

There was no sign of anything when Vivi had climbed out of the van. She gave the nearest of the area, where the fog was visible enough for her to see, a hasty scan. Her sweater and scarf had been damp for most the day, but now less than a few seconds beneath the open road void of tree cover, she was already soggy. She blinked through the gray, dreary scraps of light phasing through the cloud cover. Was that a hissing she heard? Or a rustling? It was loud, getting louder.

“Lewis!” Vivi hailed, hands cupped around her mouth. “Are you out here? What— ” She stopped and looked up, her face drained of color as she staggered backwards into the side of the van. Arthur squealed inside at the echo of her body colliding with the cold metal. “Oh god. Arthur and Mystery!” She couldn’t move, her eyes rising to the untamed river of earth crashing between the pine trunks of the glistening slope. “They’re still inside!“ She lunged for the door. They could still ride it down, it wasn’t that thick. The van would be lost, but they would survive.

Vivi winced as a wall of flames sprang between her and the ominous stampede of nature. Bright, fire swells up and heats the immediate range briefly, before it fades out, the air continues to simmer with warm steam. To Vivi’s astonishment the mudslide recoils. Recoils as if it was a sentient, mobile thing. A congregation of embers collide between Vivi and the slithering soil, the fire diminish into the outline, the shape of Lewis void of flesh and living recognition. Under the constant drizzle of rain his skull and suit sizzled, a steady stream of white mist rose from him, though none of this seemed to faze him. Around his shoulders crackling spirit flames remain buzzing as he straightens up to watch the mudslide.

“You need to get out of here,” Lewis says to her. “I surprised it, but it won’t work twice.”

“The vans stuck,” Vivi replies. “I don’t know if he can move it on his own.” She looks away from Lewis, to the winding road and the thicket of trees between them.

The grinding soil heaves back, layers and pebbles rattle over and around, swirling higher and compressing down into itself, while bits of twigs and larger rocks churn within the mass. Rocks grind and gravel grates, as a torso and stout head mold from the thick silt.

Lewis throws himself forward, spooking Vivi who had turned back to watch mesmerized when the shape began to chisel out. Flames erupt along Lewis’ coat the moment before he rams the thing in what might be its chest, or would’ve been. The earth manifestation scatters under impact, and a low grating snarl emits from the pile of mud that dispersed over the road. In less than five second the soil was already rolling and piling back onto itself, slower this time with black smoke spilling off its scorched gravel layers. Lewis kicked himself away, ember eyes track the mass as it struggled. This would buy some time he hoped.

The van lurched and coughed as Arthur toggled the drive stick and reversed, hunting for the combination of momentum to dislodge the vehicle. “Vi!” He called. Mystery was perched in the passenger seat leaning far out from the open door to watch, what he presumed was their friend(s). Arthur heard no sound from Vivi, aside for the loud crash and a violent sweep of chilled air. “Viv, could y—AH!” Arthur lurched in his seat when Lewis shot into view, skull faced and hair all riled and popping. Aside from that the fire ghost appeared unaffected by the rain, but for some steam rising off his shoulders and head. Lewis caught Arthur with a glimpse before he leaned down and pressed his shoulder to the van’s grill.

“Get it into gear!” the voice snapped. Arthur couldn’t judge if it was in his head or what, but it did reminded him keenly of the night he and Vivi stumbled into the mansion. “One, dos, tres! Reverse!”

Arthur tried not to think of that now. He swung the drive shift into reverse and floored the gas. A squealing came from the rear as the wheels spun, but found no traction on the slick ground. Mystery bobbed at the open door and snarled at something unseen by Arthur, but he was beginning to hear it. A loud rustling and clicking, hissing and slipping. The image of rocks tumbling with loose soil down a steep hill hit his mind. All the rain, the Watch for Falling Rock signs they’d seen. Arthur didn’t care if he cracked the gas pedal. He focused on Lewis’ shoulders hunched to the vans grill, and timed each pump of the accelerator as the ghost heaved at the vans grill.

Lewis had an advantage. He could press his feet into the asphalt and push, but he focused more on keeping solid and straining against the impossible mass of the van. He didn’t remember it being this stubborn, but they were on a slope and everything was slicked.

Vivi was suddenly beside him, shoulder braced to the grill and her blue shoes scraping at the white rock under them. “I told you to get back in the van,” Lewis hissed. Actually, he told her to get in the van and left her gawking at the mound of coiling mud.

“We’ll dislodge the van,” Vivi grunted. “Then I’ll get in.”

Lewis didn’t argue, he needed to concentrate. Drops of water bead at the tips of his upper jaw and drip off, his pseudo suit simmers as water mixed in his vague presence of shape. A fine whiff of fire wafts off his skull as he counts in his thoughts once more, judging when Arthur would hit the gas again. The van lurched and began to struggle back from them. Vivi groaned, teeth clenched, as she barreled forward with Lewis. She gave a breathless gasp as she turns to the tall ghost.

“There! Got it! Told you.” Vivi halt her words, as Lewis launched himself over her head and snared a large, solid shape in mid leap. Both fall sideways cutting across the solid amber hood of the van with a thud, under the clatter of metal, the same rustling tumbled through the air whenever the gray mass moved. Vivi stumbled sideways, trying to catch herself on the van but it kept backing up from the two brawling on the road. Once she caught her balance, she stood and stared as Lewis gave the shrillest cry she had ever heard him emit. Vivi knew it was Lewis, because the skull had tilt far back off the collar of his suit, while the thing upon him dug claws – she blinked – yes, they were claws, into his shoulders.

“Van!” Lewis rasped. “Get in! Go!” Magenta flashed in his eye sockets as Lewis turned his attention to the creature on him. Fire tore out of his cufflinks into the shaggy front of the creature, the locket on his chest pulsed steady, even as he struggled and screeched. “VIV!”

“Lew! You need help—” Vivi ducked back as the Gollum reared up over Lewis, a second set of arms at the base of its torso snared the collar of his suit. It was large, but its limbs were too short. It resembled something between a serpent or a goat, but lacked the definitive features of either. When it raised Lewis off the road, Lewis swung his legs up and hooked one ankle over a set of curved horns on its head and began to kick it repeatedly across its clutch of glimmering ‘eyes’.

“Help by getting,” Lewis slapped his hands over the entities forearms and flooded its gray, moist body with ravenous flames. “—Way!” Vivi stepped back when the Gollum shoved Lewis onto the soil and pressed him there, while fire stabbed across its underside. The Gollum grated, sounding as all manner of rock and soil crashing and crumbling. “Go!” Lewis gave the screaming creature another kick. It tore its arms out of Lewis’ suit, but its secondary arms still held his collar.

Vivi ran. She darts to the driver side door and reaches through the open window to pull the latch. A wave of shock slices over Arthur’s eyes, but it’s gone even before he began scooting aside for Vivi. “We’re leaving him?” Arthur spat. He’s looking through the windshield at the roads side, where Lewis is pressing back into the gray pebbled body. Mystery gives groans of concern, as Vivi puts the van into drive and tears off. The wheels screech as they gain traction, the passenger door sways but doesn’t shut. Arthur climbs over Mystery to get the door before the dog can go sailing out. Vivi was the best driver when it came to getaways.

“We’re more harm than good here,” Vivi retorts. She leans onto the windowsill on the driver side and looks back. The earth creature shrieks as unrestrained gusts of magenta and red spew skyward, embers crackle and steam keeps rising around them, obscuring the shapes within. Soon it is only silhouettes, then a wall of thick black fog. “Some sort of terraria spirit or man made Gollum. Damn, we had to be right!” She took the next curve sharply, the wheels screamed over the asphalt as she spun the steering wheel.

Arthur wrapped one arm around Mystery, and used his metal arm to hold the roof of the van. “Easy! I’d like to see my next birthday.”

“A few more miles,” Vivi said, eyes glued to the road. “There’s something about terra spirits, but I can’t remember.”

Arthur peered out of the fogged window at his side, Mystery wrapped up in his lap but watching Vivi intently. “I don’t think there’s much that can be done to him now, Vi. Y’know….”

“No,” Vivi snapped. She gave Arthur a short glimpse, then back to the road and keeping them in the proper lane. She bit her lip and tasted blood. “It’s more than that. Terra’s aren’t spirits, they were never human. God Arthur, you should read the more folktale stuff,” she sighed. She wanted to go faster, she wanted to be there now, but she also wanted to GET there. “It might just be paranoia, but I thought there was a description about them being kind of guides to the,” she choked as the words formed, and died. She couldn’t say it, no. She had to be wrong.

Arthur was staring at her. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he cries. “Nature spirits, right? Then they do… nature shit, right?”

“I don’t remember the specifics,” Vivi snarled back. There was the bridge, at the base of the mountain side. The road branched off to the next mountain range over, the bridge connecting the two. Through the dense tree cover it was difficult to make out, but Vivi had seen the dull red roof amidst the gray haze. “Knoxx Bridge! I see it.”

“Careful on the breaks, it’s really slick,” Arthur cut in. “Did you need to finish anything in the back?” He released Mystery in order to look over the seat, at the mess of pine needles and broken branches spread around.

“You can get the new candles we bought. And the Teddy bear,” Vivi answered. Arthur pulled himself into the back and she could hear tussle through the plastic bags. Mystery was about to follow, but whipped around to face the road instead, poised with one foot raised off the head rest he had intended to hope over. “Can you check if—” Vivi’s face screwed up – shock, fear, amusement, she wasn’t certain.

A large black shape hurtled across the vans front, and Vivi twisted the wheel in some direction, she couldn’t recall, and screamed, “DUCK!” Arthur gave a sorrow filled moan as the van tilt far to the side. Vivi came out of her seat (no seatbelts was very dangerous), but Mystery had twisted around and pushed Vivi down with his front paws and braced her onto the door. Vivi didn’t bump her head too hard when they smashed into the surface of the road and skid, and she didn’t get pinned in the open window either. She couldn’t decide if Arthur was sobbing because he was hurt, or due to the van making that awful racket as the side was no doubt sanded off. Mystery leaned on his paws over Vivi as the noise dug into his delicate hearing, and Vivi tried to help by cupping his ears with her hands.

The van ground to a halt. Rain pattered gently on the large exposed side and gravel pecked around in the undercarriage, the pieces of rock misplaced in all the excitement. Inside the van, items continue to shift of fall from the sideways cuvees from the wall that was now upgraded to ceiling.

“Art?” Vivi called, gently. She took her hands from Mystery’s ears and listened, the vans engine still puttered but not as intimidating or fearless as before. She gulped down cold, wet air and turned the key in the ignition, then tried to call for Arthur again. “Good news, if that’s a reasonable request.”

“Present,” the broken voice muttered. The sound of rustling and crinkling came, as Arthur climbed over the tussled wall of the van. He leaned in through beside the bench seat and looked down on Vivi. “You okay?” Vivi nodded, and Arthur let out a wheeze. “Super. Now, what the fuck, girl?”

“It hit us,” Vivi insisted, as she pushed Mystery away. But not before a firm hug around the dogs shoulders, then she returned to Arthur’s thrashed gaze. “Or something like it.” Arthur averted his eyes and stared at the interior of the van, the light mist tapped at the hull of their transportation. The back was a mess, supplies everywhere in little gray lumps, the light from the lamp had gone out. Vivi watched his sullen expression until it hit her. She griped a fist to her mouth as her breath trembled. “Lewis!” Arthur moved aside as she tumbled into the back, picking through the supplies.

“I’m – I’m sure he’s fine,” Arthur said. Mystery stayed beside him as Vivi went through, pulling up whatever was salvageable. Without further word Arthur began helping her. It was okay, she’d see.

Mystery stayed in the front seat, poised on the driver’s door (floor) as he stood watch. The bridge was only a few yards away, the heavy growth of pine branches dug at the rusted roof and walls that faded from the thickets edge. There was no sign of the Terraria or Lewis, and that greatly concerned Mystery. Shapes huddled in the fog, dark smears of vapor peering out, waiting. Mystery gave a soft bark and growled.

The pieces and parts for the memorial were up beside the upper edge of the vans wall, in a pile along the scratched roof. Viv found her backpack and loaded it with a notebook, a few charms – she knew nothing holy would work on an entity contrived of nature, not normally. “Did you find the candles?” she asked, when Arthur began rustling into something.

“Yeah.” Arthur picked up the bag and tucked back in a few of the candles that had fallen out. He also packed the twine and more branches stripped of the needles. There was Lewis’ jacket as well, tossed into the back while Arthur had been frustrated with trying to get the van dislodged from the tree. Arthur gave it a once over as he knelt in the supplies, his shoulders shook as the mist kept vibrating up and down the side of the van. “We’re ready then?” He pulled the jacket on over his head and shoved his arms out through the sleeves. The collar hung around his shoulders and Arthur tugged the torso out from his chest and grimaced. Lewis was a big guy.

“Should be,” Vivi answered, as she moved to the back door. “If not we can come back.” Before she could reach for the door handles, a loud hissing slammed into the side of the van. A strong physical force somewhere at the back, the blow caused the van to twist around and along the road, the friction sent painful screeches through the interior van. It might’ve been the van, it might’ve been the entity screaming at those within.

A pained yelp came from Mystery when he hit the side of the van. Arthur tries to recover and find Vivi in the dark. He called out to her, before a hand snared the wrist of his good arm and tugged him to the vans front where Mystery huddled.

“I’m more worried about Lewis,” Vivi spoke. She glanced back to the doors, but the assault had fallen still. For now.

Arthur brushed past her into the vans front, he braced himself to shove open the passenger door above them and wastes no time climbing up. Vivi knelt below the door and handed up her backpack, and the grocery bag of supplies they picked up earlier that day. “It’s clear,” he called, once he gave the perimeter a rushed look over. Vivi cooed to Mystery as she picked him up and passed the whining dog to Arthur. “Hang tight for a second.” The blond ducked away from the open door, leaving the drizzle to splatter the sides of the seats and the doors side.

A sudden and frightening crack came. Vivi cringed expecting the van to be struck once again but the rough collision failed, leaving her braced within confusion and agitation. Other sounds became audible beyond the walls of the van. She could pick out the grinding of rocks, loose soil scraping among tree trunks and grass. It sounded like the whole forest was moving, shifting, living. “Art!”

“Hold on! Juz….” His strained, conflicted voice came. Not far. A sharp scream came from Arthur (it was his high pitched voice), along with a whooshing and another harsh crack. The vibrations rattled through the metal walls of the van. “Whoa-whoa-whoa!” Mystery was barking, and Arthur’s voice was moving quickly beyond the walls. Arthur may have tried to make know the panic, but his voice was constantly cut off to his heavy pants. Yips and whines came from Mystery. “Vi!”

Vivi put her foot to the steering wheel and balanced her feet, then pulled herself out from the passenger door and out into the miserable, brisk air. She looked towards the sounds but didn’t see Arthur or Mystery, instead she saw Lewis perched upon the back of the earth spirit. The struggling entity had risen off the road while Lewis held onto its horns, the curved ends red with heat as he poured energy into it. For a second Vivi was relieved. Lewis was still here and he looked to be in good condition.

Until the nature entity flipped over sideways and slammed Lewis into the road under its pointed head. Flames spread all over Lewis ribs and shoulders as he grabbed at the thick neck of the entity and dragged it off, is hooved feet dragged at the road before it toppled over. Lewis rolled away when it staggered at him, reaching with the side of its two arms. Vivi heard a warning cry from Arthur, when the entity snapped its head up at her.

“Get down—” Arthur shrieked.

The Gollum faded into the mist, or most of it did. Lewis did much of the same, vaporized in a large burst of fuchsia fire fading outward. Vivi lost track of Lewis completely, while mesmerized by the sight of the Gollum at it prowled. Its gray eyes gleamed in its pebbled head and the road whizzed under its shape as it rushed at her, gaining momentum as its claws lashed over the road. She was about to dive off the side of the van when the shape collided with her body like a derailed train, she hadn’t realized it had gotten that close, it had just appeared.

“Viv!” Arthur dropped the bags he was carrying and darts to the lining of brush where Vivi tumbled through, he could still hear her body dragging through the loose undergrowth and soggy leaves. “No!” Mystery yelped after him as the dog gave chase. Before Arthur could lunge through the brush, Mystery had jumped onto his back and thrown him down into the pine coated soil. “Mystery! She’s hurt! Get—” When Arthur had shoved himself up and crawled forward, he saw what Mystery had stopped him from reaching. Why it was important he did not crash blindly into the thicket.

There was nothing beyond the growth of brush. The trees jutted out from the side, the soil worn and chipped, and below nothing. Nothing but treetops hidden in the fog far below.

Arthur felt his eyes bulge in his head as he stared down and down searching through the drab, thick mist. He snaps his gaze to the furthest side of the parallel mountain range, but there is nothing. A fierce grip took his chest as hot tears filled his eyes. “Vivi! No… god no! VI!”

Calm down and look. Mystery set his paw on Arthur’s good shoulder, then, nudged the grief-stricken youth’s cheek with his own shoulder. Mystery pushed his head under Arthur’s chin and raised his gaze, Arthur didn’t seem to notice the guidance at first, but his eyes did turn up.

“Shit,” Arthur wheezed. He folded down, nearly falling onto Mystery beside him. Mystery tried to push Arthur up and keep him out of the mud. “She’s okay…. She’s safe—”

The rapid clamor of heavy feet caught his attention, and he whirled around to see the Gollum. Arthur recoiled as it galloped for him, but Mystery lurched between him and the large mass of gravel, and snarled at it. The creature hesitates, its shoulders sway and grit as it turns its head down to view the smaller dog. Arthur stares, eyes flick from Mystery to the entity and back to the dog. The nature entity sways, as if uncertain to its approach of the dog. “Myst, we… we should move.”

Mystery backed away, red eyes gleaming over the rims of his glasses. The gravel apparition crept forward and Mystery hissed between his sharp teeth. Mystery scarcely glanced back to Arthur when the human set his metal hand on his shoulder, and Mystery averted his gaze to keep track of the tall demon fabrication. Not in front of Arthur. Not again. Mystery raised a rear foot behind him and pushed it gently to Arthur’s knee and nudged the mud soaked pants leg. Arthur pushed himself to his feet and shuffled away, while Mystery continued to back up from the Gollum. The entity, gravel demon, kept its glimmering eyes fixed on the smaller creature.

“Okay…nice and easy,” Arthur edged, eyes on the entity. “Run!” He spun around and shot off. Mystery followed in the same manner, ears pinned back and head down. A soft rustling came from their backs as the creature charged after them.

Mystery barked, his breath misting in his face as he pursued Arthur. They needed their gear, all of it probably.

Arthur cursed as he pivoted, skidding over the slick road in his shoes and ducked down. He fell to his knees and clawed at the cold asphalt, his metal arm scratching as he scrambled back to his feet. He felt a rush of air over his head. When Arthur tilts his head up, he sees one large arm of the entity outstretched inches over his spiked hair. The entity faded but kept its outline as it dug its claws and hooves into the road, but fell partway into the road when it lost traction completely.

“Too close! Too close!” Arthur harped, without a glance back. He tugged at the long sleeves of the leather jacket as he came upon the grocery bag and backpack he had dropped beside him at the time, when Vivi had fallen. Mystery’s legs clack at the road, every few feet the dog glanced back as the rustling of the Gollum cut through the distant between them. Mystery barked softly. “I know! This is as fast as I go!” But when Arthur grabbed the bags and chanced a look back over his shoulder, he took on a new speed.

Now Mystery found himself having a hard time keeping up with Arthur, as they jackknifed their course and ran along the tree lining beside the road. Mystery was partially distracted, he kept glancing up as he tried to match Arthur’s pace.

Awareness crawled back into Vivi’s thoughts. She couldn’t recall what had happened to lead up to her groggy, frigid state. The dull thudding pressed into her hearing, among the soft hiss of rainfall. Her hand was icy and wet and she could feel no sensation in her palms at first, which drew up alarm in her. Was she hurt? She couldn’t remember. When she shifted, she winced at the hot pain in her shoulder and felt a tight constricting around her chest, pressing her into the cool mass against her. The blurriness cleared from her eyes and she realized she was staring into a vibrant wall of pink, a satin tie if it were to be described. Vivi arched her head up to gaze at the skull above the suit collar, water droplets collect along the upper jaws teeth and drip into her face. She sees the eyes gleaming in small pinpoints within the eye sockets, but the gaze… doesn’t stare back.

“Lew?” No answer. “Lewis?” She picks up on Arthur’s scream and Mystery’s echoing barks, somewhere beyond the subdued thrum of the locket. Vivi’s own heartbeat quickens painfully in her chest, given the situation she was made present to. What is Lewis looking at? She struggles in his hold, pulling her frigid arm up to her chest and pushing, trying to find where he and she were, and where Arthur and Mystery could be now. The arms around her tighten to a painful degree, and Vivi turns her gaze back to Lewis as she takes a strained breath. “Lew. You’re hurting me.” The crushing grip pauses but his arms wouldn’t loosen. But, Vivi now had enough space that she could turn her head down to see….

Open air and trees way below their feet. Sixty feet, maybe eighty. Maybe. Her free hand grips at Lewis’ collar. The fog coats the tree tops with a thick gray shroud, and the tall pines stand along the slope below, angled, sharp.

Vivi blinks some of the water collecting in her eyes away. “You… you’re okay, Lew. It’s all right, I’m here.” No response. Not even a flicker in his dimmed eyes. Vivi found she couldn’t describe the skulls expression accurately, it looked vacant. Not frightened, but gone.

Shut down. Lewis had shut down to a basic level, but he had enough sense in him still to keep himself suspended, and latched onto Vivi.

“Stay with me,” Vivi whispered. She wriggled her other hand free, and again Lewis tensed his arms around her. Vivi pressed her elbows into his chest as she stared at his skull. “Can you hear my voice?” she asked. “It’s gonna be all right.” She removed her elbows from his chest and raised her arms, but hesitates. Lewis made no indication he had seen or heard her at all. If his locket was any suggestion of mood, it showed nothing but from its usual soft pulsing, maybe a tinge more of tarnish and reds rather than its usual gilded quality. Vivi shoved her hands over his eye sockets and gripped his skull. “Just listen to my voice, okay Lew?” The skull jerks in her grip and the hands around her chest loosen a fraction. “Don’t let go! Hold tight!” Lewis arms remain locked around her, and Vivi clenches her own teeth tightly as she stares at the skull under her pale palms, the splash of vibrant ‘hair’ tussled over her wrists.

“Can you move Lew?” Vivi prompts, voice strained. She heard alarmed barks from Mystery, but Vivi could only shut her eyes and pray that they were all right. She took a breath. “Follow my voice. Can you do that? Don’t let go, and follow my voice. There’s safety, solid ground. Safe ground.” Vivi nearly tears the skull off his shoulders when they begin to descend, but slowly. “Wonderful. You’re doing so well, just focus on my voice. Follow me.”

“Vivi?” the voice rumbled.

“Stay with me, Lew. A little higher,” she says, glancing back. “We’re almost there. Just please, don’t drop me. That would really suck.”

“Drop you?” When they were a little closer to the brush covered edge, Vivi stole her hands back from Lewis’ skull and plastered her arms over his shoulders. Lewis lowered them down until he detected the solid rock and stood there, staring across the road. He came back to himself a little more and took note of Vivi coiled around him, legs locked around his waist, and arms twisted over his shoulders. He raised his skull above his collar a bit. “Are you okay?”

Vivi shook her head against his shoulder. “No.”

Lewis was about to ask about what had happened exactly, when a shrill cry came from Arthur. Vivi snapped her head from Lewis’ chest, and Lewis leaned forward to see Arthur not far down the road at the edge of the bridge. The Gollum had him and Mystery pinned.

“Run, Mystery! Run!” Arthur had one of the creatures smaller arms gripped in his metal hand, but it still had three other limbs to grip at his remaining arm and legs. The creature didn’t have a mouth but it was pulling Arthur out by his legs and arm, and Arthur was trying to pull himself out of its grip. “I’ll be okay! Just find… find the—” Arthur cut off as he felt the first a dull crack in his ribs.

Mystery snarled and lunged. The Gollum gave the dog little notice as Mystery darts in, one of its large arms released Arthur’s leg and lashed out at the barking dog. Distracted, the entity pulled its torso back and looked up but hadn’t a chance to react before Lewis blasted into it from the side, fire spewing from his wrists down into the creature’s thick neck. It toppled sideways with Lewis pressing it the dirt a few yards from Arthur.

Vivi dashed to Arthur’s side as he crabcrawled backwards from the gray thing and the sudden intense flames shooting out of Lewis. “Are you hurt bad?” Arthur winced to Vivi as she grabbed his shoulder. “C’mon, move then!” She dragged Arthur up to his feet. “Why are you wearing his jacket?”

“I learned from you, okay?” Arthur grumbled. He followed Vivi when she sprinted off.

Mystery whined as he limped, one front paw was raised from the black tarmac as blood seeped down his dark toes. He went back for the bags left in the roadside and plucked up Vivi’s backpack, he raised it to her as she and Arthur caught up. “I’m sorry Mystery, I didn’t see you hurt yourself.” Vivi tossed her backpack up to Arthur as he hurried by them, to the bridge. She hefted Mystery up and grabbed the water slicked grocery bag and caught up with Arthur.

Another wall of fire tore from Lewis ribs and collar as maneuvered around behind the hissing Gollum. It followed, swinging its head down towards Lewis but missed catching the dapper ghost with its horns. Lush green brushes and thick leaves tear at its legs as it thudded and bound around the small clearing under the trees, it thrashed its head with a bullish quality whenever Lewis let it get near. He had to be careful, it was not spectral and remained solid constantly, but he had found it could drag him back into a physical state through unknown means. The larger front legs slashed at the pine littered rocks, dragging it forward with power and speed. Occasionally, if Lewis let himself drift too near the earth beneath him, he could detect the loose soil sag at his feet and slow his retreat like quicksand.

It leapt high, higher than something its density structure should allow. Lewis ducked aside on a swirl of flames and skids out of the way, leaving it to collide with the trunk of a pine in his place. Bark shredded in its claws and the Gollum recovered, only to stare at the damage it had left.

While it was distracted, Lewis glanced off and took note of Vivi and Arthur as they raced across on the road. They checked him before hurrying through the overgrowth of tree branches struggling through the rusted side railings of the road bridge. A little longer, then. Lewis returns to his current project, and glides backwards when the Gollum lashed out for him. It moved fast on one gallop and caught up to Lewis, on impulse Lewis drew back a fist and struck out with a blazing punch. Fire spread up and down the Gollum’s face and neck, but the creature merely shook it off.

As before.

It was more for his reassurance than protection, but it took too much out of him. Lewis swings back and lands among the short shrubs. He gives his collar a quick fix and straightens his tie, while the Gollum crept closer, the set of eyes between its horns track him. When it’s close enough Lewis kicks off and move right at the precise moment when it crouched for a lunge, but his feet were caught in a tangle of thick mud. The Gollum drags its head up and hooks Lewis’ in the ribs, and rears back on its hooved feet heaving Lewis up out of the slick silt. Both sets of arms tear into his hips and legs, with him secure the limbs begin to pull at his body.

Lewis scrabbles at the thick hide with claws, thick puffs of fire cough out around his neck collar. He isn’t certain what could possibly happen if he’s pulled apart, he can’t feel the pain of being broken again, but he can feel whatever ether that consisted of his physical essence drag out from him. He was losing focus, losing a sense of existence. Whatever consisted of his emotions and awareness was winking out, dislocating far around his body until he had nearly lost connection to himself. The distant rain in the pine trees became thunderous, the cold air ripped into his core. Fading. It was like fading into a null of vacant presence.

Flames tore out of Lewis, engulfing his graying suit. The Gollum gave a strained rasp as the blaze knifed through the moist cracks of its pebbled body, it swung its head until he was dislodged and it could back off. He tumbled through the wet shrubs before he managed to recover and rise up, flames and spirit orbs still drift around his shoulders. Lewis watched the Gollum as it rubbed its side into the rocky soil, struggling to douse the small crackling embers that persisted to vex its hide.

It stops altogether and rears up, as if listening for… elsewhere. The fire on it seems unaffected by the mist, but it has forgotten about that affliction altogether. He collected himself and raised up, prepared to steal back its attention, but the Gollum simply turns away. It races towards the bridge, fully ignoring him.

A gust of embers haze away from Lewis’ skull as he streaks after it, the soggy ground sizzles as he kicks up sparks. When the Gollum reaches the bridge it fades and nearly disappeared completely, before it leapt up upon the roof of the bridge. It was silent as it moved, the taps of rain the only sound across the steel top. He paused beneath the rusted and hole riddled eave debating if he should chance following up there.

He decides to glide across the road of the bridge, towards Vivi and Arthur at near center setting up, beside the rail and the wall that opened up about shoulder height to view the chasm below. They don’t notice him at first and Lewis doesn’t try to warn them, or slow their progress. He tilts his skull back and he watches the roof, he strains to pick out where the Gollum might appear under the constant hiss of the rain. Would it know where, he wonders? It would have to, he reasoned, it realized the danger it was in. A cry comes when Lewis is a few feet from the group, Mystery is barking as the Gollum squeezes through the open wall of the bridge.

“Crap!” Vivi choked out. She stumbled away when the creature barely missed her when it bucked with its hooved feet. It was still twisting around, turning to Arthur as he sprang out of the way of its flying claws. Vivi hit the back of her legs at the rail beside the road and she flops backwards, onto Mystery’s back when he darts up under her to break the fall. Mystery yaps as he crawls out from under Vivi, he snags the sleeve of her wet sweater in his teeth and tugs her toward the little pine branch shrine she was working on at the base of the bridges wall. “But Arthur!” Vivi tugs back.

Arthur stumbled out of the Gollum’s path when it turned on him. He cursed as he pulled around Vivi’s backpack from his shoulder and rummaged through its interior. He knew what he was looking for and snapped a few glimpses of the Terraria as it moved at him, the Gollum’s head low near his toes. A small rise of relief filled Arthur when he found the bottle of salt, and in one fluid motion he had it uncapped and had a small circle fixed around him on the damp bridge. There was high likely hood it wouldn’t work, Vivi had warned him, but he wanted a small bit of hope, as the Gollum was bearing down on him.

Odd. It was as if Arthur had imprisoned himself in the salt barrier. The Gollum reared back and twisted its claws out, and Arthur found he couldn’t move. The shock of it all, he supposed. He was stunned, as it brought its claws down and pinned him to the road. The Gollum leaned over him and bore its weight upon his body, Arthur gave an involuntary cry as the air was forced out of his lungs.

And then, it spoke. “HOW DARE YOU, MORTALS, INVADE MY HOME.”

Arthur blinked at the mist in his eyes and struggled to drag air back into his lungs. “I… We—” He choked, as it applied pressure onto its palm.

Then the Gollum swung itself back with a shriek, as a high wall of flames burst around Arthur and his small salt circle. Arthur gathered himself and cringed down into a tiny ball at the center of the sizzling ring, and wonders if he wouldn’t have been better off being crushed to death. But when he peaks at the Gollum, it had moved back and took no further act of violence on him.

Maybe that was because Lewis appeared right in front of it and grabbed it by the horns. It jerked back, and Lewis followed its recoil. Crackling fire surged down its face and chest as it tried to wrench out of his reach and gore or snag Lewis with its longer arms, but Lewis had risen his body out of its grasp and up towards the ceiling of the bridge.

The movement of the Gollum ceased at once, and it stood poised with Lewis hovering above its slanted face. He was staring into the glimmering gray eyes as the light in them faded, like the shimmer of a river stone sinking into mud. Lewis released the horns and drifted back, lowering himself to the road below while the fire ring continued to cackle and spit around Arthur. The drab blotches soaked into the remainder of the Gollum’s body, turning its moist gravel skin into choppy dust. In his peripheral, Lewis could see Vivi lean on the rail beside the road to watch, as the body of gravel began to collapse into the hollow shell of its core. The dust spread into a pile onto the road and the edges of it quickly became black as they were splattered with light rain. In the center of the thinning layer was a white edge poking out.

Lewis tilts his skull to the side and glides forward, dipping forward to reach into the pile of muck. From the gray matter he plucked out a yellow and partially bleached ribcage that fit on the palm of his hand.

“Hmm,” Lewis said. He swings back away from the remains and lowers his hand, as Vivi and Mystery come over. “You think someone made this… Gollum?” he asked, out of reference. He didn’t know what else to call it.

Vivi shrugged, as Lewis flipped the remains of a body over with one finger. “Could’ve been some animal. Are there any more?” She looked to the thin mound, as Lewis made a scratchy echo in his chest.

“I’m not digging through that.” Lewis let Vivi take the little ribcage, and she with Mystery returned to the memorial that had been assembled.

“Uh… hey?” Arthur peered out through the flickering flames of magenta that surrounded him. Lewis didn’t turn around. “Can I get outta the fire crib now? I promise to behave.” Arthur gave a sigh, trying still to work the stiffness out of his lungs. Lewis waved a hand over his shoulder and the flames dispersed. Arthur sat on his knees a bit longer staring at Lewis’ back, and Lewis watched Vivi begin pulling candles out of the grocery bag. “Thanks.”

The skull above Lewis’ shoulders twitched, but he didn’t look back. “Yeah,” Lewis echoed, as his form faded away.

Arthur moved to his feet quickly, the sleeves of the jacket slipped down over his hands. “Fine, be that way,” he muttered. He pulled the sleeves back up his arms and moved across the road, occasionally checking the pile of silt as he went. “I think he’s gone back to the van.” He could see beyond the bridge through the deep chasm where the trees stood in the curving, sweeping mountains. In the distance it looked like the cloud cover had opened some, but the rain fell as consistent as ever. It sounded nice now, while they were under cover.

“Probably,” Vivi answered. “I could’ve used his help though.” She set the candles down beneath the small shrine of bent and tied pine branches. “Did we leave the lighter in the van?” Arthur reached into his pocket and handed his over. Vivi gave the yellow case a short examination, before she knelt down and began lighting candles. Vivi pondered over her question, carefully orchestrating it in a manner that Arthur could not say ‘No’ to. “Could you take Mystery back?” she said. Three candles lit. “He hurt his paw.”

Arthur raised his brows, and glanced to the dog beside him. Mystery gave Arthur his largest eyes and whimpered, holding up his red stained paw. Arthur sighed and leaned over to pick the soggy dog off the road. “You sure you’ll be okay?” He was backing away already, glancing to pile of muck that had become the Gollum.

“I will,” Vivi answered. She put her hand over one candle and let the heat spread through her skin. She didn’t want Arthur to get sick, he couldn’t afford it. “Take care of Mystery. Ah, and maybe call a tow truck to get the van upright? The roads should be safe-er now.” Roads would always hold accidents for the foolish, but without the Gollum’s influence there should be no unnecessary loss of life. “Did Lew’s fire dry you out?” She smirked back at Arthur.

Arthur sighed. “A little. I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, and turned walking away.

Vivi watched him leave, a thin smile on her lips. She looked again to the lighter he had handed her and resumed lighting the candles. That was two more. Three center, three on the right, and three to the left; all in that order. When Vivi turns around, she’s startled by the person on the bridge with her.

“It’s very nice, merci manquer,” the woman says. Her clothing is lacy and white, absolutely dry. Curls of peach hair stick out from under the large white bonnet she wears, and a sort of crocheted collar is around her neck. Vivi was staring at that, when the woman tips her hat and moves away. Vivi follows her direction, and sees a group of people waiting for her, all dressed formally in attire that does not match the modern era. Unless maybe they were going to a church. The woman takes the hand of a small boy in a sky blue suit, and the small boy gives Vivi a last look before the woman leads him away to follow her group. “Ne rester en sécurité, Bleu Moyen. Do stay safe.”

Vivi smiles sadly as she watches the group depart. She dabs at her eye with a dry hand as she turns to take up the grocery bag. She pulls out the teddy bear – purchased on a whim when they were shopping for candles – and sets it behind the collection of candles. The rain patters and slicks down the sides of the roof, the sound distant and despondent as she stands alone upon the bridge cold and wet. Vivi turns her head, but as she suspected the odd troupe of people had gone. The road was safer, and maybe, maybe if people still used it, they would no longer see the odd hitchhikers out searching for home.

“They were French, maybe visiting foreigners,” Vivi said.

Lewis hummed for a minute as he pondered. “Bleu Moyen would be,” he said, narrowing his eyes around their dark pits as he frowned, “Blue Medium.”

“Hmm. I figured it was blue something,” Vivi admits. She sat in the center seat beside Lewis and watched the darkened road ahead. The engine puttered and hitched occasionally, but Arthur had given the van a thorough check over once they got it upright. Or, Arthur got it upright. With Lewis help. While Vivi was away still, Arthur was able to get a wench system set up in the tree branches and managed to heave the van over onto its wheels. It took some time, but in the end it had saved them a lot of trouble.

Arthur was already knocked out in the back, curled up in a nest of sleeping bags, blankets, and Mystery. With some amusement, Vivi recalled that Arthur was still wearing Lewis’ jacket, but since Lewis hadn’t made mention she figured that he knew Arthur probably needed it right now.

“Is that what you’re going to call me now?” Vivi asked. The heater wasn’t on at all, but the window was shut and she was sitting right beside Lewis.

He shook his head and smirked. “Naw. Maybe… Mi Arándano Medio. Or just Arándano Medio.”

“Is that Spanish?” she asked. Vivi glanced at Lewis’ arm as he set it on the back of the seat behind her.

“It’s Spanish,” he answers.

“What’s it mean?”

“My blueberry.” Lewis jolts a little when Vivi lies down and sets her head on his lap. She smiles up at him as he twitches, glancing down at her a few times while also trying to keep his focus on the road. He forgot to turn on the headlamps and reached over to flip the switch.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Vivi said, expressing some concern. “I’m a little run down from all of that… wildness. Thanks for saving us, by the way.” She folded her arms across her middle and enjoyed watching Lewis fumble with speaking, before he managed some audible words.

“No-no,” Lewis’ voice hitched, but it cleared somewhat as he went on. “No matter what, I wouldn’t stay idle if my friends were in danger.” He checked back over the head rest, into the vans interior as he moved his hand back onto the steering wheel. “Never.”

Vivi raised her brows a bit in mock surprise. “Really?”

“You know it,” Lewis said, and gave her a small smile.

“Okay. How about boysenberry.” Vivi rubbed at the bandage on her arm, where she had cut herself after the fall.

“What?”

“Boysenberry,” she answered. “In Spanish. How do I say it?”

“Espera dis… err…” Lewis glanced at his hands and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he considered. Then, he gave a wide smile. “Rey púrpura.”

Vivi glared up at his smug grin. “Are you being honest?”

“No….” Lewis droned out, little lights in his eyes darting off from her frown.

“Tell me. Now.” Vivi had a method for appearing intimidating, while lying on your lap, and staring at your face, all while she’s trying to seem serious but really, Lewis knew she was fighting off that grin. “Lew-Lew.” She reached up for the locket on his chest.

“Bayaboysen.” He watched as Vivi’s hand drew back to her chest, and inwardly he sighed.

She giggles, and Lewis no longer feels on edge. “Really?” she chirped. “Bayaboysen?”

“There wouldn’t be an actual translation, but this sounds more exotic.” He grinned around the words. “You like?”

Vivi cackles. “Yes! Bara Bayaboysen. Bara Bayay. Mi bara baya bae. Can I go on?” She clasped her hands to her lips and smiled.

Lewis slumps in his seat. “I should have held my voice.” He didn’t have a tongue, or vocal cords anymore, and barely had a voice as it was.

It is night now, the van rolls tirelessly through the black cage of the pine trunks curved around them on the thin road. Sometimes there’s a curious animal at the edge of the tress, usually a mouse or raccoon, sometimes a deer gazes out as the van rattles by. Lewis realizes how quiet it is and looks down at Vivi, but she doesn’t feel asleep. She’s quiet and relaxed, a bit bleary but holding on to the conscious world.

“Getting sleepy?” Lewis asked.

“Nope.”

Lewis lowers his hand and strokes her cool cheek. “You saved me. Didn’t you?”

“Hmm?” Vivi hummed. “I… when?”

The road stretched far ahead, spun around dark turns and crooked broken tree branches. Far above them the sky opened and dazzled, a thousand stars twinkling. He thought about the pit. “I got… lost, someplace dark,” he began, looking at the sky through the windshield. Glimmering, far into the deep inky black. “Your voice was there. I could hear your voice calling, and I followed it. I didn’t know what else to do. It—” Lewis came back, he twitched and turned his sight up to the rear view mirror. A skull stared back, bleached, burning ember eyes. He shifted in his seat and brought his attention back to the road. When he moved to take his hand from Vivi, she clasped it to her cheek. He glanced at her. Vivi was calm, tranquil, and there was a gentleness in her that had the capacity to tear him to pieces. It wasn’t fair that such emotion should ripple through him.

“It’s all right,” she said. “You’re gonna be okay.” Lewis snapped his bright eyes back to the road, and hid his sour disappointment easily. “You’re scared of heights.” Lewis didn’t respond, except to rub his thumb on Vivi’s chin. “I was always scared of that space under my bed when I was little,” she offered, voice soft.

Lewis huffed, and a little mist of pink spread from his skull. “This is… a little different.”

“I know,” Vivi hisses. “Jeez, don’t take it so literally, you’re worse than Arthur with playful jokes.”

Lewis makes a sound, something sharp like a crack. The radio pops to life with some soft music, and Lewis quickly snatches his hand from Vivi’s grip to lower the volume but not off. When he tries to replace his hand to the steering wheel, Vivi steels his wrist and brings his hand back to her cheek. Lewis says nothing, but he is content to stroke the soft space along her neck. Vivi is quiet for a long time, the soft drum of his locket kept pace with the passing seconds.

“What if… you were the one that was under my bed?” Vivi asked, voice groggy. “You would do something like that, wouldn’t you? You have a spooky reputation you gotta uphold and all.”

And Lewis ponders as he strokes the soft folds of her hair, and wonders of hiding under a child Vivi’s bed. She never kept up with her room when they were kids, still didn’t if he knew her (and he was confident he knew his Vivi). Lewis had doubts that he would fit under any bed, and if he could he didn’t believe it would befit such a dapper specter all that much.

Vivi goes on, “What would you have done if I decided to confront you one night? You know I would have, it was just inevitable.”

A soft hum rises in Lewis chest as he ponders the prospect. Go back in time and haunt a child Vivi’s bed? “I think,” he begins, “I would have been very cross if a child – even you – thought it proper to confront the spirit haunting their bed, and I would have swooped upon you, and scolded you for being up at such a late hour. Then, I would tuck you soundly into bed and tell you stories all night long, until you were fast asleep. When I knew for certain that you were indeed and well asleep, I would give you a kiss, and relocate myself to the closet. Where there’s more room.” He looked down at Vivi as she lay silent, eyes shut and breathing steady. She looked asleep, but was she? He couldn’t decide. Lewis kept his soft hymn calm and smooth.

“You did that once.” The voice nearly caught him off guard, but it was only Vivi, half asleep. “When we were kids. Yeah. You hid under my bed, because it was so cluttered no one would look for you there.” Lewis made a soft chortle. He could NOT see himself hiding under anyone’s bed, even if he was a young lad again. Well, maybe Arthur’s, but that was different. Vivi yawned. “You told your parents, that mine said it was okay if you slept over, and I just told mine you went home early.” She snickers. “And the plan was to stay up all night, and fight off the monster that did live under my bed. You were ready to go at it, I was impressed.”

A little more than confused, Lewis darted his eyes along his eye sockets as he considered. “I don’t really re—” Then it came back to him.

He did do that! Just like Vivi said. At the time his heart was pounding, he’d never lied to his parents before and they were so trusting of him. But it was for the greater good, and he wanted to be Vivi’s hero. He did it for her. Lied to his parents and was ready to face a bone crunching monster, with gnashing blood drenched teeth—this is how Vivi so eloquently put it at the time.

Turns out there was no monster or ghost, or anything as they had thought. After some hours of waiting in boredom, Vivi declared the monster very rude, and announced they would make a sheet fort to protect themselves, if it came back from wherever rude monsters went. They huddled inside with a few spooky story books Vivi had selected, and Lewis read to her for the remainder of the night, until they fell asleep.

“Ooh.” Lewis winced, as if taking a blow from the memory and the consequences of their mischief after all these years. “We got into so much trouble.”

“It was worth it though,” Vivi mumbled. “And we found out that there was no monster under my bed. Just Yew,” she said, and giggled a little. She gripped Lewis’ sleeve and tugged his arm down and hugged his wrist. Lewis let her, and only kept his hum sifting on the air.

Lewis remembered that in the intermission time, while her parents and his were sorting out the matter, Vivi had turned to him and announced the monster was so petrified by Lewis hiding in its spot, it gave up the ghost and went to bother someone else. Lewis was a hero. That had been fun, now ten years later. Yeah. Now it was fun.

“Art’s been telling you ‘bout the good ol’days, huh?” Lewis murmured, without breaking his soft coo. The engine rattled a bit as he eased off the gas to gain higher gear. He hoped Arthur had been as thorough as said when he gave the van a checkup.

Arthur makes an odd little sound in the back as he fumbles around and thuds to his side, or something. The interior back of the van was still a mess, but Arthur had cleared enough for himself and Mystery. It was possible he had heard his name muttered in Lewis’ voice, but Arthur resumed his heavy slumber without further noise, and Lewis let the cool ease roll through his form. The rhythmic chug of the engine whined out as the slope ended, and the van descends back onto lower lands. The thicket of pine trees cleared, the ground was hilly but low and leveled.

“He still doesn’t like to talk about the old days,” Vivi admits. “I just come up with these ideas of what we might’ve done when we were little. To compensate, y’know. So I feel like I do have something from back.” She pressed her face into his sleeve, and mumbled, “Sounds like we got into a lot of trouble.”

“Yeah,” Lewis rumbled. “But it was worth it after all.” He’s not sure, if he had skin he might’ve been, but the sense of touch was foreign to his peculiar essence now. He was accustomed to the absence, but he could remember the contrast and still revisit. He didn’t want to say anything at first, if he wasn’t certain. He could detect the warm moisture seep into his sleeve where Vivi was hugging him. “I know, Vi. I know,” he hummed.

“I’m happy,” Vivi said.

“I know,” he replies. “You can cry and still be happy. That is the best sort of happy, I believe.”

“I missed you,” she mumbled into his sleeve.

Lewis looked at Vivi, though she couldn’t see it. “I’m here.” But he began to sift through their words and only then, understood what Vivi had meant. Lewis went quiet as Vivi drifted and dozed, and finally was asleep.

No, no. She couldn’t remember. He burned out those memories, stole them away. At that time it was all he was capable of, the bad with the good. He could accept the toll, he could sustain though knowing his actions. But, if Vivi could reach so far back, she would be able to see what no person should ever have to witness. No. He glares at the bright glow in the rear view mirror, accenting the circular edge of his eye sockets. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Vivi held his sleeve tightly. Lewis couldn’t take his arm back, but he didn’t want to anyway. It was tempting. A way. Reinforce the lock. Banish the past completely. But he couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk doing what he had no comprehension or understanding of. There must be another way. When he had first done it, he had nearly… it had almost happened. But he was stronger than the call, the compulsion of whatever was beyond. The absence of everything that had mattered to him in life. Lewis could test how strong the bond was, but he would never risk it. He remembered too much. There was much he longed for in the world in a time when he had been his happiest, but the further he reached for old memories, the more distant and distorted they became.

Acceptance. That was the Fifth stage of Loss and Grief. It amazed him how powerful certain words be.

#msa #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls fanfic #msa fanfiction #msa lewis #msa vivi #msa arthur #msa mystery #fanfiction #mystery skulls fanfiction #msa fanfic

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raijinhasverybigpecs · 4 years

Text

THE RE-UP: Tu’er Shen, the Leveret Spirit 🐇

“While other gods may proclaim endlessly over the power they have over their domains, causing no end of trouble for their fellow pantheon members and their followers as a result, Tu’er Shen patiently and quietly tends to those who request his services with unmatched loyalty and dedication.”

Name: Tu’er Shen, the Leveret Spirit

Pantheon: Chinese, Minor Diety

Class: Hunter/Healer Hybrid, Medium Difficulty

Positives: Healer, High Movement

Negatives: Hybrid Specialisations

please click on the read more for everything else lol

appearance details 🐇

old (above) vs new (below)

so perhaps i made him a bara rabbit after all lmao. blame the new outfit and how much better it’d look if tu’er shen has big ol bitties to work with :^) it’s still the same hair as the ears work really well with that colour but the basically the whole face has changed to be a lil more Dramatic(tm). the makeup skills have also improved with new tu’er shen rocking more subtle eyeliner alongside some very pretty and shiny pink liner. the eyes are also another major change, they’re a pretty grey as it goes nice with his hair. i still love the idea of his eyes changing colour according to his mood and grey is just a neutral mood :^) anyways, yes he looks beautiful, yes you can compliment him!

outfit details 🐇

tu’er shen now has an in-game outfit!! yay 🥳 it’s been a while coming mostly bc i have no art or visual character design skills but i’m pretty proud of how this turned out lol. it’s super cute and p goddamn chinese if i say so myself but it’s still very hoe and feels modern enough to fit smite’s standards i feel lol. big thanks to @izahunny (who is dead on that blog but a clown on twitter) for helping me with designing the outfit, the back layers and lil extra dress fabric for the front bottom left corner of the dress were his idea and they make everything much more balanced 🥰 i didn’t add a weapon but he’s just using a bow, i might update this later if i care enough to add that lmao

abilities 🐇

(please note that i am terrible with stats and don’t care about how viable in-game he actually is, these are just general ideas and the stats can be changed lol)

PASSIVE - Protector

Tu’er Shen passively grants a medium range aura of regenation around him to his allies, increasing their HPS, MPS and magical and physical protections by 5% of their totals for each statistic. Additionally, Tu’er Shen gains a 3% movement speed bonus every 4 levels.

40 unit aura radius, 5% increase of total HPS, MPS and protections

3% bonus movement speed every 4 levels, total bonus is 12% at level 20

ABILITY 1 - Passion Arrow

Tu’er Shen charges his arrows with passion, amplifying his next basic attacks with a small AOE on hit or at max basic attack range and causing them to go through minions. If Tu’er Shen hits an ally while Passion Arrow is active, he heals them for a flat amount. If an enemy is hit the charges deal increased damage on impact and if they are hit 3 times they are charmed and walk harmlessly towards Tu’er Shen for 1.5 seconds.

Cooldown: 10 seconds

3/3/4/5/5 charges, Heal: 50/75/95/125/150 + 30% scaling

Extra damage: 10/30/60/90/120, Mana cost: 55/60/70/75/85

ABILITY 2 - Matchmaker

Tu’er Shen calls upon his matchmaking skills to select and connect two allied gods or one ally and one enemy god with each other in a 55 unit targeter. If two allies are linked then their damage is increased by 10% and they receive a heal over time. If an ally and an enemy are connected then the enemy is revealed to Tu’er Shen’s team and the enemy deals 20% less damage to their partner. Additionally, the connected ally receives 50% of their enemy partner’s healing.

Cooldown: 20/19/18/17/16 secs

Duration: 6 seconds, Heal over time: 20/25/30/35/40 + 20% scaling

HOT ticks every 1 second, Mana cost: 50/55/60/65/70

ABILITY 3 - Bunny Hop

Tu’er Shen hops in the direction he is currently travelling. If Tu’er Shen hits a wall, player-made deployable or god he bounces off the surface, doubling his movement. Additionally, enemy gods are stunned for 1 second upon impact. Tu’er Shen can store 1 charge of this ability.

Cooldown: 14/13/12/11/10 secs

2 charges maximum, range of 55 with an amplified range of 110 units

Damage: 100/150/200/250/300 + 100% scaling, Mana cost: 70/80/90/100/110 mana

ULTIMATE - Romantic Rush

Tu’er Shen, after a short duration, channels the full extent of his love powers, amplifying all of his basic attacks with the effects of Passion Arrow for 10 seconds. If an ally is hit and they are at full health they receive a a health shield equal to half of Passion Arrow’s healing. On enemy hit, the charm duration is doubled but they cannot be charmed again while Romantic Rush is active. The effects of Matchmaker are doubled and Tu’er Shen receives a 20% damage buff if he is linked with another male god.

Cooldown: 80 seconds

Duration: 10 seconds

Mana cost: 80/90/100/110/120 mana

lore 🐇

While other gods may proclaim endlessly over the power they have over their domains, causing no end of trouble for their fellow pantheon members and their followers as a result, Tu’er Shen patiently and quietly tends to those who request his services with unmatched loyalty and dedication. For he is not a god who takes to the spotlight easily, but one who will see his responsibilities through to help and protect those who he serves, an opportunity he was once not afforded in his youth.

Such are the origins of Tu’er Shen, the Leveret God.

Once a young man known as Hu Tianbao, he fell deeply in love with a handsome imperial inspector of Fujian Province. Such was the intensity of his love that he looked upon the inspector while he bathed, peering at him through a bathroom wall. Tianbao was caught in the act, confessing his sincere affections for the other man in hopes of reaching an understanding. The inspector was quick to retaliate in violence, sentencing him to death by beating.

Underworld officials, seeing his crime as one of love, sought to justify his death by appointing him the god and safe guarder of homosexual affections. A month after his death, he appeared in the dreams of a man from his hometown – not as Hu Tianbao but reborn as Tu’er Shen. From this came the erection of a humble shrine for his worship and Tu’er Shen has dutifully served those who seek him ever since.

The battlefield of the gods is a strange place to find Tu’er Shen, usually one so far removed from the world of ugly violence and mindless bloodshed. Even so, perhaps love can soothe and heal the wounds caused by the warring of pantheons, or maybe it can even help end the war in some way. Knowing firsthand the true cost of thoughtless hate and violence, Tu’er Shen picks up his bow in the hope that he can protect even one person of those who cannot protect themselves in the war of the gods.

voicelines 🐇

god selection

“Tu’er Shen!” (duh)

introduction

“Is anyone in need of my services?”

“Let’s see what I can do.”

“Wonder if there are any cute gods around? Wait, no! Work first, then play later!”

“In their own ways, everyone here is fighting for love.”

(this isn’t an official one but as a joke it was highly entertaining) “Come on Season 6 let’s get sickening!”

abilities

ability 1 - passion arrow

“Fallen for me yet?”

“I’ve got you!”

“Coming for your heart!”

ability 2 - matchmaker

self/ally match - male gods only

“Our connection is strong.”

“Let your heart speak to me.”

self/ally match - general

“Together we’re stronger.”

“I’ve got your back.”

ally/ally match

“You’d make a good pair.”

“Another successful match.”

ally/enemy

“Swipe left next time!”

“This’ll end badly.”

ability 3 - bunny hop

“Excuse me!”

“Coming through!”

ability 4/ultimate - romantic rush

“Feel the love!”

low health

“I will not give in just yet.”

“I don’t mind playing rough, but this is a bit too much even for me…”

items

when placing wards

“Reveal their hearts to me little ward.”

“Any romantic confessions I should be aware of?”

when buying consumables

“Isn’t this interesting?”

“The colour is lovely.”

when buying offensive items

“I don’t want to harm others but if I must.”

“Love hurts indeed…”

when buying defensive items

“Will this protect my ears?”

“Hope this won’t slow me down.”

“Even the gods have to use a little protection.”

kills

when in a killstreak

“I can heal them later on, right?”

“Love never misses its mark.”

when killing a jungle boss

“That creature was awfully big…”

“Thank you for your sacrifice.”

when destroying a tower

“Love conquers all, man and structure alike.”

“Ack, that’s so loud!”

death

“You’ll never kill my spirit…”

“Love is eternal…”

directed voicelines

Aphrodite - “It’s a great honour to finally meet the goddess of love, I have much to learn from you.”

Cupid - “Speaking from... past experiences, it seems as though you should work on your aim.”

Jing Wei & Xing Tian - “I admire your perseverance in the face of insurmountable odds, we are not too dissimilar in that way.”

Loki - “If you haven’t already, I suggest you pay Chiron a visit at some point. He is single after all...”

Bellona - “Any luck asking Amaterasu out yet? She’s still waiting for you to make a move you know..”

Raijin - “I’m willing to bet you’re more satisfying in bed than you are an opponent on the battlefield.”

Bacchus - “I’m not the drinking type... but perhaps you’d like to come in for tea?’

Achilles - “How’s Patroclus doing? Maybe you should spar with him more often, you’ve gotten rusty.”

Apollo - “Playing the lyre isn’t the only thing you make look easy.”

Ravana - “When I see you, the term ‘rope bunny’ comes to mind...”

jokes

“I hope Cupid doesn’t get jealous of all the time I’m spending with Aphrodite…”

“Technically I’m not this closely associated with actual rabbits, but the aesthetic was too cute to pass up.”

“Considering what I’ve been through, I think I’ve earnt the right to proud of who I am.”

“It is technically homophobia if you hit me. Just saying.”

“The Jade Rabbit? He’s certainly cute... but I think there’s another rabbit who’s cuter.”

taunts

Animation: Tu’er Shen draws a neon heart in the air, shooting an arrow through it shortly after.

“[Yawns] I think I might have a nap, perhaps that’ll give you a chance to catch up.”

“You have an awfully big weapon there, are you compensating for something?”

“I’ll show you why they say love hurts.”

“Fighting for your overblown ego isn’t a good reason to wage war.”

“Take it from a matchmaker, I don’t think anyone’s standards are low enough for you.”

skin concepts 🐇

new tu’er shen body

floral fairy

squeaky clean, night corps, bunny server

country cowboy, casual, devilish

old tu’er shen body

kitsune, spring revelry, leather bunny

hello nurse, debonair devil

old notes 🐇

this concept is super inspired by Kaios’ concept for Tu’er Shen (which you’ll find linked in the description of this post), i loved his ideas for rabbit lad and wanted to add more to the concept. my final kit concept is a lil bit similar but i think i’ve changed enough for it to not be a copy lmao. anyways, i’ve wanted a hunter support since i played tyrande a while ago in heroes of the storm. she was super fun and the mix of dealing strong consistent damage and still being able to support allies is something i’d kill to have in smite

tu’er shen is also a really cool god, and recently I’ve been prokoved by my mutuals making lots of god concepts when i haven’t made any in a very long time lol (if you remember my other smite oc you’re a real stan). obvs i don’t think hi-rez would do him justice and gamerbros would totally complain about the Gays™ shoving their unsatiable need for Representation™ down their throats and what not but it’s still a fun concept regardless!

new notes 🐇

he’s back and 10x beefier and sluttier looking than ever lmao. the self-insert squad may be missing plenty of people (y’all better come back like...) but it’d be a waste of time and effort to not do more with tu’er shen. also i love him so! i’m still kinda sad over twink tu’er shen being replaced by bara tu’er shen but it’s for the best, he’s v handsome now and big ol bitties in that dress? iconic. he does fit better into the male cast, the added beef makes him more attractive to basically everyone (he’s serving taric teas now lol) and he was a soldier so there’s plenty of reasons to make him a hunk. anyways... i don’t have much to say about the outfit than it’s flawless lol. it was interesting and p fun to make although i always feel awkward about posting drawn stuff in a serious context. it’s weird but i’m happy about the final product 🥰 i’ll try to write more stuff about him soon but don’t expect too much lol

links/resources 🐇

personal

headcanons (they’re a lil outdated in reference to his body lol)

tu’er shen’s tag

original post

my smite oc tag

other

kaios’ super cool concept for tu’er shen you should check out as it’s cooler than mine lol. his art of tu’er shen goes full furry and it’s kinda cute ngl

other links you can read for more information about tu’er shen: 1, 2

a beautiful short film about tu’er shen helping a guy accept his sexuality, gore warning towards the end

thanks for reading if you got to the end! please send asks or whatever, i’m dying for any excuse to talk about him lmao 🐇

#smite #smite game #hi-rez smite #smite oc #gay rabbit stuff #MY OCs #pwease support my boy. i care him

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eyesfixedonthesun22 · 5 years

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The Cocoanut Grove

Summary: Nestled within the iconic Ambassador Hotel lies the infamous Cocoanut Grove Club. In the 30′s and 40′s it was the place to see and be seen for starlets and celebrities. If you asked Bucky, he couldn’t give less of a damn. Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Warning(s): Post-Endgame. Cursing. Kissing. Suggestive situations but nothing explicit. TW: Anxiety. Word Count: 3,231 Beta Reader: My darling honey bun, @supersoldiersruined-me Notes: Congrats @buckmesideways22 on 2k!!!! Prompt “You’re a slave to pleasure” is bolded. This is my first post-Endgame fic. Some of my favorite scenes in the movie The Aviator take place when they’re in this nightclub during its heyday. Something just made me want to write Bucky into the setting. I’m also obsessed with art deco elevators. We have a ton of them in Chicago and they always take my breath away.

Bucky’s eyes shoot a squinting glare at the offending object before him. His suit hangs freshly pressed on the cedar hangers in the closet. It’s a medium weight wool. Charcoal grey with subtle blue undertones. A quality garment to be sure; but he could think of nothing he’d enjoy less than putting it on right now. A monkey suit. That’s what they called it back in the day. He’d much rather continue the evening in his boxers lounging in his hotel room.

A knock on the door interrupts his staring match with the single-breasted monster. Before he can call a greeting down the short hallway, he hears the mechanical whirr and click.

“No room service, please. I put the do not disturb sign-”

“Put on some damn pants, Barnes!” Sam hides his eyes in horror and plops down on the bed as if he owns the place. “I don’t need to see your little soldat.”

Normally Bucky would shoot some equally snark laden comment back, but the stress of the evening has him feeling tongue tied. He chooses instead to pelt Sam a few times with the overstuffed hotel pillow before shuffling to the bathroom. His toes recoil at the sudden contrast between the plush carpet and the cool marble tile.

“Why are we doing this again?” He calls back into the bedroom. “Steve isn’t here to play dad and it’s not like…”

He was going to say it’s not like Tony is here to force us. Despite the time that has passed it still feels wrong saying the words out loud.

“Don’t even think about bailing. Fury and Pepper are downstairs already.” Sam must have been sent to prevent him from escaping.

Bucky looks toward the gilded art deco mirror and glares at his own reflection. He was doing a lot of glaring it would seem and the night had hardly begun.

There’s an array of products arranged on the tray with marble inlay in the same sunburst geometric pattern as the mirror. Surely Pepper’s doing. She’d sent over the suit as well. He picks up a glossy black tin which claims it’s hair product and smooths back his hair. His muscle memory from the 40’s helps him tame the brunette locks into something more manageable. Crap. His hair is too long to do the simple slicked back formal style he used to rely on. A good three inches of his brunette locks trail limp and awkward at the base of his neck.

Glancing back down to the tray for some help he sees a package of hair elastics. He snatches one off the package and begins again. He tosses his hair roughly and sections off enough for a small handful at the crown of his head. With rusty skills but determined focus he manages to tie the small section into a braid; securing it with the elastic. His heart clenches. Natasha taught him how to braid. He turns and looks over his shoulder to get a better look. It was shoddy work at best. He was certain she would make him comb out the braid and redo it neater, but she wasn’t here to scold him. He did it anyway to quell the voice in his head. It’d have to do.

**************************************************************************************************

The Avengers compound in upstate New York had been rebuilt after the destruction and battle with Thanos. Most of the daily operations, training, and Avengers work was conducted there. Bucky split his time between the compound and the shared apartment he had with Sam in Brooklyn. Bucky belonged on the East Coast. It was in his blood. He’d made a home there with his therapy dog and Sam. Steve checked in when he could. Bucky took only the missions he felt were manageable. It was a good life.

He had been dragged west, away from that life, for a job in California a week prior. Something about a trafficking ring. When he had completed his final check in for the mission, Fury had sent him to 3400 Wilshire Boulevard. “Between Catalina Street and Mariposa Avenue” he remembers the text message had said.

Bucky assumed it was a safehouse where he could collect himself post mission, clean up, and catch a flight home. He couldn’t have been more wrong. When his cab had pulled up to the address, he double checked with the driver it was the correct spot. He stared at the pure white curved sign which read The Ambassador Hotel. Maybe Fury had wanted to treat him. The hotel certainly looked like an upgrade from some of the safehouses he’d stayed in. Doubtful. A bellhop politely tried to relieve him of his bags. Bucky began to protest (tug-of-war) with the man when he saw the familiar face of Pepper Potts hurry from the entrance.

“James! Fury said you were on your way.” She glances at the bellhop who still had his hands clasped on Bucky’s duffle. “Would you drop that? Was traffic bad?” He doesn’t remember what stuttered answer he gave her as he reclaimed his only piece of luggage.

Before Tony had gotten roped back in for the Thanos battle, he had purchased the iconic Ambassador Hotel from auction. The city of L.A. had planned to demolish the building and sell its lands to the highest bidder. Tony decided to snatch it up and renovate it back to its former glory. It was his passionate side project. Pepper was out west helping to promote and ensure the launch party went smoothly. That all sounded swell, but he still didn’t understand why he was there.

“Tin Man!” He hears the exclamation as Pepper leads him to the front desk. “Looks like they roped you into being another celebrity guest.”

“Who’s watching-,” he starts, thinking of his shaggy Newfoundland back home. The therapy dog accompanied him on as many missions as possible but this one hadn’t been suitable.

“Peter is pet sitting the beast.” He knew Sam’s comment was all in good fun, nevertheless his heart clenched thinking of their homey apartment. He would give anything to fall asleep with the weight of his mutt across his chest, both of them spilling over the sides of the sofa.

**************************************************************************************************

Dressed in the freshly pressed suit, he continues to imagine home to calm himself while making small talk with Sam in the elevator down to the ballroom. The club is called Cocoanut Grove. Pepper had given them a tour earlier. The hotel and its club had been something of the hotspot back in the 30’s and 40’s. Names like Charlie Chaplin, Katharine Hepburn, Howard Hughes and Ginger Rogers were thrown around. It would appear those incredibly famous people had come to see equally famous people and be serenaded by musical guests like Sinatra and Bing Crosby. Bucky didn’t care. He didn’t care much for famous people then and certainly cared less for them now. Having to masquerade around as if he was one of them, simply because he was an Avenger, seemed laughable at best. Torture at worst he thought.

“Don’t get in your head, man. You’re such a stick in the mud when you’re in your head.” Sam nudges Bucky’s elbow a bit. Despite the teasing tone he knows Bucky is anxious. “We’re here to be seen. We don’t have to do anything. Have some drinks, eat some free food, have a good night. In and out.”

The doors to the club are coated in frosted glass etchings of palm trees and coconuts which surrounded the club name. The tropical theme was over the top if you asked Bucky. But he was happy with soft chenille blankets and some take out. The party’s luxe pre-war theme was a bit outside his current desires.

Walking through the doors of the club was like being zapped back in time. All the women wore beautiful, period appropriate frocks and gowns in silky metallic tones. Clusters of people gather under the curved arches of the ceiling. The floral motif on some of the walls make his head swim. He turns to look at the dining area instead. It’s dotted with small collections of circular tables in the sunken dining room. He and Sam make their way down the central staircase; Sam leading the way. Bucky thinks he hears Sam talking but he’s distracted. Women with ornate headpieces sit on large wooden swings which hang from the ceiling. Their swings trail shimmering tassels over the dining area like shooting stars. Everything is busy.

“I have someone I want you to meet.”

Sam can’t have said that. Bucky glares at the live band playing swing music at top volume. The large stage is framed by fake palm trees and a parquet dance floor. There’s the occasional flash and pop from the old timey photographers someone hired for the event. The cacophony of sounds has him on edge. All the noise must have distorted Sam’s words.

“Dude!” He wheels around. “I have someone I want you to meet!”

Bucky opens his mouth to protest but the woman is already standing beside his friend. Sam’s arm is slung over her bare shoulders. The emerald gown’s square neckline skims the underside of her clavicles. The moderate neckline is contrasted by an off the shoulder detail and a low drape of the silk down to the small of her back. Bucky finds himself jealous of Sam’s hand. He wonders how soft her skin would feel under the pads of his own fingers.

She brings her tumbler of amber liquid to her blood red lips with a sideways smirk. Could someone be jealous of liquid? Jealous of a glass?

Bucky was.

The flash of a pink tongue to corral a stray drop of bourbon from spoiling her perfectly painted lips had him hypnotized. He hadn’t heard her speak and he wanted to know everything about her.

Sam had made quick work of the introductions and sneakily exited. By the time Bucky had realized he’d been abandoned with the mystery woman, Sam was already across the ballroom shooting the pair finger guns and a wink.

“You always play the glaring stranger card or is that special for me?” He blinks. “The gaping mouth is a nice touch.”

The sound of her laughter rings in his ears. For those brief moments the pops and flashes of the camera, the bellowing swing band singer, and the muddled buzz of all the surrounding conversations dims. All the unpleasant sounds, smells and sights disappear. It’s just her. The gentle clink of the ice in her drink. A glint of light off her teardrop earrings. A waft of her warm enticing perfume. He comes to his senses.

“Sorry. I’m not a huge fan of events like this.”

“Me either. Tacky and overwhelming most of the time.” She interlocks her arm with Bucky’s and begins to walk the pair of them over to the bar. With her standing closer, he could detect more subtle notes in her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of citrus? “Tell me why you hate them and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“It’s an open bar?” He asks.

“Oh hush.” That giggle again. “Pick your poison, sir”

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the introduction. He didn’t care. All the anxiety he had felt at the beginning of the night had made its exit. He felt light. No. Exuberant. It was her. It had to be. The conversation was flowing in a way which usually only happened after months of getting to know someone. Hunkered down in a secluded corner of the jade accented bar she had rid him of the usual walls he put up. The pair talked about anything and everything. He knew he should be introducing himself to people and making rounds if he wanted to do his job “correctly”. But he didn’t. Not if that meant prying himself away from her side.

She raps her knuckles to signal the bartender for another bourbon. While she’s waiting for her beverage, she unclasps her clutch and fishes out a gold compact. Bucky watches as she removes the pouf from the powder and presses away invisible imperfections in her makeup. Her middle finger swipes down the center of her cupid's bow to make sure her lipstick stays in the lines.

“You’re staring.” He should look away or apologize. The intoxicating proximity to this magical woman and his own drink have him feeling bolder than earlier in the night. “Though I suppose that’s an upgrade from the glaring I was getting earlier.”

“You are just hitting on all six cylinders, aren't you?” The last words are mixed with a grin and chuckle.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Barnes?” Her heavily charcoaled eyelids blink twice before she stares at him over the top of the compact. For a moment he thinks he’s in trouble. Too forward. “You wanna get out of here?”

He knew he didn’t want to leave her side, but the idea of this woman taking him up to her room nearly made him faint. Sam would never let him live that down. The armpits of his suit felt tight and too near his now damp skin. He wanted to respond but his mouth refused to make words.

“And we’re back to mouth gaping.” Her laughter brings him back to reality once more. “We don’t have to. But this schmooze fest is just beginning. It’ll go well into the early hours of the night. Thought I’d give you a chance to escape.”

Where did Sam find this woman, he wondered. She somehow made him oscillate between fumbling idiot and suave crooner the entire night. He wished he could say he hated it. Needing a second longer to collect his thoughts, he clasps her hand in his and abandoned the bar for the elevators.

The mirrored doors of the elevator close. He’s not sure how it happened but she’s nestled into his side. His palm rests on the gentle curve of her hip. The coolness of the silk doing nothing to quell the burning heat radiating off his skin. The two of them lock eyes in the golden reflection. Neither moves to press a button.

He slides his hand off her hip.

Silk. Silk.

Skin.

Both palms rest on the bare skin of the small of her back. If the skin there is any indication of how soft the rest of her is, he’s in for it. The two stand chest to chest with a sliver of space as a buffer. She leans towards the button panel trying to press the correct number.

“Nope.”

He playfully swats her hand away and punches the button for the second highest floor. She quirks her brow. From the number alone, she can surmise his room is far nicer than her own. Given his connections, it makes sense.

“Trying to impress me, Barnes?”

“Maybe a little.”

His grin is boyish and charming. His play for the button has closed any space between them. The swells of her breasts rub against his chest with each breath.

“I wanna learn what pleases you. I wanna learn everything about you.” His hands trace invisible patterns against her sensitive skin. The words are cheesy. Clearly a line well-rehearsed in a past life. The tone makes the emotions genuine and sinful. “Would you let me do that? Would you give me that job?”

His hand cups her chin waiting for a response. The sigh he lets out when she presses her lips to his tastes of bourbon and caramel. His calloused palms pull her into him now having his answer. Despite the renovations, the building is old and the elevator slow. Bucky’s grateful. When the elevator dings, the kiss has turned feverish and deep. He braces the door open with his metal arm and walks her backward off the elevator towards his room.

He fumbles for a moment, attempting to get the keycard out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket without his lips leaving hers. No such luck. He groans in frustration at the lack of her taste on his tongue. It’s mitigated by the pepper of nips and licks she places along his neck. He holds the card up to the sensor.

Flashing red light.

He slaps the card back against the sensor with more gusto. She sucks at a soft spot behind his ear. Tingles shoot down his spine. She had him ringing like a tuning fork.

Flashing red light.

“Sonofa-”

Lips never leaving his skin, she snatches the card from his hand.

Press. Green light. Click.

The two of them burst through the door ricocheting like a ping pong ball against the walls of the hallway. She shimmies his jacket off and drops it somewhere near the door. He’d have to dry clean it before returning it to Pepper. He’d feel guilty if she wasn’t occupying every damn thought in his brain. His shirt, along with his shoes, is thrown off in the living room of the suite.

Standing at the foot of the king bed her delicate hands rip his belt off and push his pants to the floor. She turns away from him. He’s confused. Has he done something wrong? Some invisible offense?

“The zipper, Bucky.” She hisses impatiently.

His fingers skim over her heated skin as the zipper glides lower. The emerald silk pools on the thick carpet. He feels like the wind is knocked out of him when she turns to face him once more. Her lingerie hugs every curve and dip of her body. He’s never seen something so sensual and enticing. She pushes him back into the rich duvet. He wants to devour her. He wants to study every inch of her skin and learn every sound he can pull from her.

He wants to stop.

She straddles his lap and grinds against him. The breathy whimper which tumbles from her lips almost makes him change his mind. He whispers her name into the shell of her ear.

“Darling…” It comes out choked and stifled. She stills her hips. “Can we pause.”

She rolls off of him and awaits an explanation. He can see the hurt in the depth of her eyes.

“I had an amazing time with you tonight.”

“But…?”

“No but. I don’t want tonight to just be tonight.” She meets his eyes. “If we continue how we were, I’ll never see you again. I want more than one night.”

Her lipstick is smeared but the grin is radiant.

“Can we order some room service, get comfy, and watch a movie?”

“You’re a slave to pleasure, Barnes.” She pecks him on his sensitive, love-bitten lips. “One condition… only underwear.”

**************************************************************************************************

The heavy bedspread is littered with a large pizza, at least a dozen tacos, various confections, and a litany of other junk food. The opening credits of some movie are playing on the large screen. Bucky should be engaged in the plot. She’d promised him he would love the movie. Instead, he’s staring at her. Not glaring. He’s not sure if he’s ever seen something more beautiful. She’s surrounded by a nest of pillows. Her chandelier earrings still dangle on her ears and she’s clad in her strappy, lacy lingerie. Her makeup is a certified mess. She’s sipping the chocolate malt she had stolen out of his hands after he said it was delicious. This was a sight he could certainly get used to.

#KC2k #Bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky #tw: anxiety

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mwolf0epsilon · 5 years

Note

Same anon from the werewolf prompts ask. I was mostly asking because I'd love to see the 3rd, 4th and 10th prompt for a Polycho fic. You can decide who the werewolf is, or if all of them are wolves or not. I'm not picky!

The hardest part of getting bit is that, even when he's the "big bad wolf", Josh still can't find a place among his peers.

Luckily the wolf has an eye for good folk and maybe someone up there is finally looking out for him.

---

[[MORE]]

Despite what anyone might believe, Josh Sawyers had always lived a little rough. He'd gone to school, was well read, enjoyed arts and history, and had dreams of being a teacher one day. Sadly, he'd not had the money to pursue a higher education and due to his area of residency and skin color he was considered nothing but a lowly thug.

No one wanted to hang out with the too smart black kid that lived very close to the woods. No one but his family really. But that too had changed when he'd gotten bit.

No point keeping another mouth to feed when it might try to take your hand with it, and having a werewolf in the family would have further ostricisized his parents and siblings from the All American Dream society they were busting their asses to belong to.

In the end, Josh had just accepted it and left.

If he could run from muggers and cops that looked at him with predatorial grins and murderous eyes, he should be able to run with the crew of wolves that further complicated his life.

Except he couldn't.

"Yes I understand I'm a big bad werewolf now but really, I dont want to hurt those cute little rabbits and deer, can't we just wait until we transform back to eat?" He shrunk back when some of the others glared at him with condescending exasperation "That's not how it works? Well can't I just eat before I transform so I won't be hungry–I'm sorry I'm just new at this and I'm sorta trying to go vegetarian here–"

"Jack did you really have to pick the pansiest lilly in the fucking garden? Christ the stupid cunt won't even eat what he can get!" Dimitri, a southern english blond with a thick accent and the worst case of resting bitch face Josh had ever seen on a wolf, colorfully hissed at the alpha of the pack.

"I figured the guy would make a mean wolf. Fuck me sideways, I was wrong." Jack, their leader and the stockiest member of the group, grumbled as he glared daggers at Josh "Fucking smarty pants too good for meat?"

"Might make a good bitch." Yuri, Jack's second in command and a rather spineless idiot, offered with a barking laugh that made everyone else chortle while Josh blushed furiously and looked down.

"Ugh... You guys are assholes. I'm just gonna go for a walk." He got up and moved out of their den, an old abandoned cabin that had definitly seen better days. The stench of wolf didn't help.

"Good luck finding any food, Flower Boy, werewolves are carnivores. You gonna die for being a pussy." Jack called out behind him, getting a hearty laugh out of everyone else in the cabin.

Josh kept his back straight and his head held high, but if his tail had been showing and his ears were just a bit more wolfish, they'd have hung low in shame and sadness.

Not even a group of outcasts wanted anything to do with him. That certainly took the cake.

---

As it turned out, the others were right. As much as Josh wanted to be a vegetarian (a thought he'd had since primary school), the wolf couldn't properly process green foods. It was frustrating, because he didn't want to kill any animals. The thought of blood and gore made him shudder, even if the idea of salty iron tang made his stomach croak painfully with want. He was hungry. Very hungry.

"Think Josh... If vegetables and fruits aren't an option, then what else...?" He mumbled to himself as he walked. He needed to feed, otherwise the wolf would have a few things to say as soon as he got too hungry to keep in control.

His wolf was gentler than the others in the pack, but it was still a wild animal and hunger tended to do strange things to the mind. Especially one driven by the more primal instinct to survive.

He noticed a stream running downhill and got an idea. It wasn't a deer or a rabbit, but if bears could get nice and fat from eating fish, surely he could sustain himself on them as well? It was just a matter of catching some.

"Well, I don't have anything to lose from trying..." He figured, as he took off his clothing and folded it neatly. He set it by a rock near a massive tree, marking it with his sharpened fingernails before letting himself change into a huge dark coated wolf.

The feeling was still strange and painful, but his worries eased considerably as an animal. The world was a much simpler thing for a wolf.

With a hearty howl the wolf sprung towards the stream, hell-bent on catching some dinner.

---

"You know..." A female voice startled Josh as he pathetically crawled up onto the sandbank. A young woman was sitting there, holding a fishing cane and other assorted supplies. She had red hair, wore clothing that looked a bit too big on her, and a pair of heavy boots that looked to have steel toes. "When I saw you climbing out of the stream I was fishing in dirty, wet, and naked, I assumed you had just survived some kind of intense mob hit or something..."

Josh gulped as she set aside her tools and crossed her arms. She was smirking at him.

"But really you had just detransformed from a werewolf after you were playing in the water trying to catch a fish, and ultimately failing." Had she been watching him the entire time? "Nice ass, by the way..."

Yelping as he remembered he was completely in the nude, Josh picked up the nearest thing to cover up. It looked all the more pathetic considering the flat rounded rock was much too small to cover much.

"Easy there. It's not like I've never seen a dick before." The woman rolled her eyes "Now, before I go get my ma's shotgun, state your business here dog boy. You and your pack off to cause us trouble?"

"I... Uh no, no? I'm not..." He shook his head. "I'm not with my pack and uh, I didn't even know anyone lived here."

"We don't. The cabin is a summer retreat." The woman shrugged "What's a wolf doing trying to fish alone?"

"Could you not call me wolf? I have a name..."

"So do I. What a small world."

Josh grimaced before looking back where he came from. He should go get his clothes.

"I... Should get going."

"Hm... Yeah sure. Whatever. Try not to scare the fishes even more, you just cost me and my friends our dinner."

"You have friends?" That was hard to believe. The woman had been nothing short of unpleasant for the entirety of their short-lived and awkward conversation.

"Yes. One of them has a crossbow. Beat it pooch." She glared.

He didn't need to be told twice.

---

A couple of nights later, Josh had finally mastered his fishing abilities and was anxiously awaiting the rise of the full moon.

He hated going back to the den, but cuddling for warmth was the only way not to freeze to death in the woods, and it was risky to wander off too far without the pack. There were other wolves and worse, bears.

Not that his pack cared that he ran off anyway.

Still, as soon as the moon rose he could slink off to the stream and catch himself a good meal. He'd found a massive school of fish in a hole that lead to an underground pool. The fish either got stuck there by accident and couldn't leave due to low lighting, or were just too greedy when feeding on the vast surplus of food that the hole had to offer them.

All the better to keep him nice and full.

He had almost completely forgot about that woman from the other day, until he'd rushed off on all fours towards the stream and caught an odd sent in the wind.

The wolf grumbled in annoyance at the intrusion, but its curiosity was just as great as its human side's.

On feather light paws, it crouched and tracked the sent, before a whiff of grilled fish made its mouth water.

In the same spot Josh had met the woman, were three humans making dinner out of a bucket of large fat fish. It seemed like the redhead was a skilled fisherwoman.

"It's a loud night." A man with a shaved head, tan freckled skin and heterochromia, commented as he listened to the occasional howl in the distance. This trio was far away from the pack's hunting grounds, so there was no danger.

"Werewolves. I met one the other day..." The redhead murmured. "Took me longer to get a catch because the dumbass was flopping about like a drowning lamb."

"You met a werewolf? How come you didn't say anything, North?" A blond man with tired eyes and pale complexion asked.

"Didn't seem important at the time." North huffed "Besides, at the mention of my shotgun and your crossbow, he fled."

"You mean your mom's old shotgun. That thing is rusty as hell North. Wouldn't kill a fly..." The freckled man chuckled "But in all seriousness, Simon's right. You should have said something."

"Oh lay off Markus. It's fine! We're not staying much longer, just a couple of days anyway, and the wolves are far away."

The wolf watched them curiously. They were an odd trio. North, Simon and Markus.

Their names sounded... Nice somehow. And their interactions were all in good jest, rather than aggressive.

Whining softly, the large wolf lay down and kept watching them. It's heart ached for companionship it did not get from it's peers.

The blond's head perked up suddenly.

"Did you hear that?"

"Not everyone has your bat ears Simon..." North pointed out. "What's up?"

The blond didn't reply, instead staring off into the treeline where the wolf hid.

Had he heard it? That was impossible, humans didn't hear that well.

The man squinted, before getting up. His posture was intimidating to say the least, and the look in his eyes was one of warning.

Before anyone could say anything, or the wolf could process what was going on, the blond was right in front of it with his lips curled back so the wolf could see his long fangs. A vampire.

"Simon!" Markus called out, seeming just as startled at the wolf. "Don't do that!"

"We've got a wolf!" The blond called back.

"Is it big and got black mottled fur?" North asked from where she was sitting.

"Yes."

"Same guy from last time. Hey you caught any fish yet or just did a bad impression of the Little Mermaid?" The redhead grinned.

Simon rose an eyebrow in question before noticing the grimace on the wolf's face.

"I don't think it liked that."

"It can say that to my face. Come on, bring the thing over, if it didn't pounce us yet, it's not going to."

The vampire shrugged and looked back at the wolf, still suspicious, before motioning for it to get up and follow. The wolf decided it best not to argue, especially when the redhead offered a grilled fish.

It had been ages since it ate something cooked.

---

"So you really do run solo, don't you?" North asked in the morning, when the moonlight was no longer coursing through his veins, and after they'd all introduced themselves at the cabin.

The redhead hadn't been kidding about owning a shotgun. It was on display at the cabin, but it was also rusted to kingdom come. Markus had been right about it not harming a fly.

She used it as a threat to intruders. Uninvited guests were unwelcome, which was funny considering she had invited a vampire and a wolf into the threshold.

That was certainly some risk taking. Not that he was complaining.

The offered blankets had been so soft he'd practically rolled around in them when he woke up. The texture felt nice against his bare skin. It helped ignore the dull aches and sores of transformation.

"I prefer it." Josh replied. "It's calmer when I'm on my own. Quieter. Easier to get food and rest instead of getting pounced on and forced to submit to some asshole's command..."

Simon held the blanket he'd covered himself in tightly as he took a sip from a glass. The breakfast table was nicely organized, and he'd given them all plates of pancakes and glasses of orange juice. He himself ate nothing and drank a tinted glass that Josh's nose noted was full of pig's blood.

"Sounds rough." The blond commented as he shielded his sensitive skin from the sunlight creeping into the cabin.

"It is... Honestly though I hate my pack so much, like theyre a bunch of assholes but I ran into you guys on my full moon run in the forest and..." he shrugged "I don't know you seem pretty cool..."

"We seem cool? Bitch we're the coolest." North grinned.

"North..." Markus rolled his eyes. "Well... Uh, aren't werewolves social? Running solo seems very lonely for a wolf."

"It is but uh... I don't know, I was hoping I could sorta... You know." Josh stammered in embarrassment "Go hunting or scare some people or some shit? With you guys? I know this lake thats always really warm, I can show you... and uh, there's this hole in the stream that's full of big fat fish that just kinda hang in there? In case you uh, needed more?"

The three looked among each other debating what to do. They only had a couple of days left at the cabin and Josh would surely be lonely after they left.

North looked back at Josh before looking at Markus intently.

"... No." The heterochromatic man said flatly.

"Oh come on, we kept the vampire living in your attic, can't we keep this poor lonely lost puppy too?" North put on an exaggerated pout.

"I'm not a puppy. Also you were living in Markus's attic?" Josh asked Simon incredulously. That seemed a bit weird.

"Technically his dad's attic which technically is my attic because that mansion has been in my family for generations, but yeah sure let's go with that." Simon shrugged.

"A vampire doesn't shed or howl." Markus argued with North.

"I don't shed!" Josh was slightly offended.

"Come oooon. I can walk him, and feed him, and teach him cool tricks." North grinned.

"What the fuck is happening right now?"

"Your pack sucks and you're nice. You're getting adopted by the two most insufferable humans in this part of Michigan." Simon smiled "Don't worry. You'll get a bed, access to hot water and tv, as well as treats. They'll spoil you rotten."

"...Well I can't argue with that." Josh snorted. "I haven't showered in months and the smell of wet dog after I take a dip in the lake is pretty bad."

"Good choice." Simon laughed "Come on Markus, you always did say you wanted a pet."

"I was thinking along the lines of a canary or cockatoo..."

At the end of their trip to the cabin Markus relented, having grown very fond of Josh, and the werewolf collected what little belongings he had at the den before joining them at the cabin and sitting in the back of North's car with Simon.

The other wolves wouldn't miss him anyway, so he didn't bother to say goodbye. If anything he hoped he'd not hear from them ever again.

Thank god his wolf had a good eye for nice folk. North, Markus and Simon were weird, but they were his brand of weird.

He could get used to not living rough for once.

#eps writes:#fanfic #detroit: become human #detroit become human #werewolf au #dbh josh #dbh north #dbh markus #dbh simon

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cactii-studies · 7 years

Photo

To discover and learn more about different cultures and their traditions (@annikki-studies)

To make friends who speak a different language! (@annikki-studies)

To fully appreciate music in other languages (anon)

I have always thought that it was awesome to be able to call yourself bilingual (anon)

To communicate with so many different people (anon)

Being able to connect with a culture entirely different from yours and make new friends would be great. It is really eye opening and fascinating to see how other people in other parts of the world live. (anon)

You can meet and truly connect with amazing people you wouldn't have met otherwise (anon)

To enrich my perspective (anon)

To better communicate with my long-distance friends (anon)

To absolutely FLOOR the annoying people who inevitably go, "oh you're learning[...]? say something!" with a shakespearean monologue in your target language (anon)

Because I once read a quote that said that learning another language makes it possible to add more characters to your storybook (it's my favorite analogy ever) (anon)

I find that language comes easier to me than most subjects which is nice because I've always felt dumb and now I finally have something that I excel in :) (anon)

I find it so fascinating how a bunch of random noises make up something we basically use to live our lives by?? idk its so cool ^^ (@artemistudying)

The joy on people’s faces when you speak their language is so pure & fun haha (@artemistudying)

To embrace my heritage. I am a Chinese-American living in a city with a pretty small Chinese community. To learn my heritage languages would mean that I'm able to connect with my relatives who don't speak English and spread cultural awareness around my community. I am proud of where my family is from, and I am proud of the languages we speak. (@aspiringpolyglot)

Language learning is a lot of fun. Duolingo is a lot of fun. (@aspiringpolyglot)

I make friends because of language learning! I recently met a girl at a mock trial conference, and we bonded over languages. I met a guy from a different state at a model UN conference, and we have a Snapchat streak--but we only use Chinese with each other. I've made a surprising amount of friends just by geeking out over language learning materials. (@aspiringpolyglot)

I also make friends who speak my target languages! It's interesting to look at my Snapchat map and see all my friends from around the world. (@aspiringpolyglot)

It changes the way you see the world and its cultures! (@autumnteastudies)

Learning different languages requires us to think differently, because they're structured differently and have different cultural connotations, so the more languages a person speaks the more creatively they think. (@beenthiswaysincedayone)

Learning foreign languages allows us to communicate with people we'd otherwise have no way of communicating with. (@beenthiswaysincedayone)

I think it's the best way to open up your mind. You can learn about the history of another country, how they ended up with that specific grammatical rule, and their culture, from their customs to the little quirky local expressions; you can see how much it shares with your native language or how utterly alien it is by comparison, to the point where you have to reshape your entire way of thinking to understand. (@beevean)

I love being able to communicate and talk to people clearly. (@blithely-study)

I love words and the imagery that words create so through learning a new language there are new ways to describe and see the world. (@blithely-study)

For the work I want to do in the future, it would be beneficial to be bi, tri, or quadro lingual. (@blithely-study)

I’m learning German because my friend who is German can tutor me and one day I want to study abroad in Berlin. (@bluewire13)

I am learning Russian because I fell in love with the way it sounds.(@bluewire13)

I want to learn Icelandic because it sounds beautiful to me (@bluewire13)

I don’t want to fall into the “Americans / native English speakers are lazy and only speak English” stereotype. (@cactii-studies)

There are words in each language that are unique and untranslatable, and to me, that is beautiful. (@cactii-studies)

Learning a language leads to health benefits when you’re older. (@cactii-studies)

To prove people wrong. I’m tired of people saying that learning another language is stupid. (@cactii-studies)

Because every new language is a new way of thinking (@captaindoicaretoomuchornotenough)

To add new shows to your Netflix list. (@ccstudys)

To talk about your crush behind their back. (@ccstudys)

I'm learning the languages I'm learning for lots of reasons but they all come down to my art. I love graphic novels and I love creating them. Languages have different aesthetic properties to me that fit better with different stories and art styles. I want to be able to tell the stories and create the art I want to create authentically using the languages they're begging to be told in. (@chaquelangue)

Your best friend could speak only your target language. (@erudite-gulch)

I feel encouraged to keep studying / learning when I connect with native speakers and am able to have casual conversations with them. (@erudite-gulch)

There's a lot to learn from older people especially, but sometimes they aren't familiar with more than one language. Knowing how to speak with them is an amazing experience. (@erudite-gulch)

Exploring anything else related to culture through language? Art, music, food,.. the list goes on. (@erudite-gulch)

Knowing even a few phrases in another language can help you get the most out of your experiences with people who are different from you. (@erudite-gulch)

Pride for yourself. In my opinion, it's easy to impress others with your 'stunning language abilities' (even if you're a bit rusty), and those compliments can make you feel better about your skills. But the real show of success, to me, is when you surprise or impress yourself. That could mean unknowingly thinking in your target language, accidentally mixing words, or ending a conversation and feeling shocked at how easy it was to speak. I think that seeing that sort of progress isn't always possible day to day, but the end result is absolutely worth the time and effort. (@erudite-gulch)

I want to be able to read the literary works of my favourite foreign authors in the original version. (@goblissthings)

Knowing multiple languages improves your connection with and understanding of others, their lives and their experiences (@hinodestudies)

Learning a language is an invaluable life tool; it looks awesome on a resume :p (@hinodestudies)

You are capable of speaking to other people that are not from your own cultural background, and you can get more information on topics and other perspectives! (@ilostmyheartintokyo)

It's also calming. For example, to repeat vocab is like meditation - you can forget all problems around you and focus on this one thing...I hope this doesn't sound weird but when everything is overwhelming, studying is the thing I do to concentrate and is motivating to tackle other things after? (@ilostmyheartintokyo)

Talking in a language I really love (@imcloser)

Talking with different people (@imcloser)

Learning about different cultures (@imcloser)

Being able to understand what my favorite singers/bands post in their sns, reading their interviews or articles about them (@imcloser)

Being able to understand songs I like (@imcloser)

Watching movies, reading books, playing games in their original language (@imcloser)

I want to become a translator (@imcloser)

I want to be able to travel abroad alone and be on my own (@imcloser)

I love it when I see what big progress I made (@imcloser)

I love the feeling that is like OMG I NEED TO KNOW HOW TO SAY *ABSOLUTELY RANDOM AND USELESS WORD* IN A LANGUAGE I'M STUDYING I DON'T KNOW WHY BUT I HAVE TO, AND LATER I ACCIDENTALLY SEE THAT WORD SOMEWHERE AND I'M LIKE AHA! I KNOW IT! Though in most cases I never get to use them...But you know I just like learning vocabulary I'm gonna use like never (@imcloser)

I love it when I forget a word in my native language...And remember it in like two foreign languages (@imcloser)

I love making the dumbest and funniest mistakes (@imcloser)

I love it when I see a word in Japanese, for example, 存在. I know the first kanji from the word 保存 and I know that its reading is either “ho” or “son”. But damn it, I almost always get such words wrong! (@imcloser)

I love the fact about foreign languages that there is always something new to study. My teachers say that they're still learning. (@imcloser)

I love the langblr community (@imcloser)

I think a great reason to learn a language is to understand another culture better, and thus to understand the difference between your own culture's understanding of the world and another's. When you learn a language, you discover differences in expression that you never knew before. By understanding these differences, we can all be more open-minded and treat each other with the kindness and dignity we deserve. (@isitanylittlewonder)

When I'm learning a language I feel like it opens a door for me. I can understand the culture through the original language; so I get to know how the people living there think, talk or learn. This is all inspired by a quote of Nelson Mandela: If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart. (@kleinemissawkward)

You'll look smarter, like a scholar. (@kookyandrambles)

Experiencing your favorite foreign media in the words they were intended to be heard in. (@kuzupekos)

The love of your life / your soulmate might be a speaker of a different language (@languagesandshootingstars)

For me learning a new language is fun. (@lenekopf)

You jump into a new culture via the way people express themselves and you win the opportunity to talk to everyone that speaks your new learned language. (@lenekopf)

It means that you are challenging your brain all the time. (@lenekopf)

Whenever you can speak and understand it makes you happy and it makes people around you happy! (@lenekopf)

Learning a language means to learn a lot more than just words. (@lenekopf)

To fit in with my friends (@lunasanguis1996)

To learn a useful skill (@lunasanguis1996)

To be able to help people if I can (@lunasanguis1996)

So you can read a book in its original language (@origami10)

So you can understand jokes (and make bad jokes) (@origami10)

Mostly because you can study in whatever way you think is fun! Anything can be a language learning activity! (@origami10)

I like learning Japanese because of how it looks and sounds. I may also include "Japan is so freakin' clean!" as a reason I would like to visit. (@ristray)

Also dabbling in Mandarin because, again, I just really like how it sounds. (@ristray)

I learn languages because it makes me feel happy and at peace. My anxiety is gone when I study! (@schneeloewe)

Getting to talk to natives and listen to their stories when you travel (@swooping--evil)

Meeting new friends (be it on- or off-line) who are also learning or speak your target language (@swooping--evil)

Understanding your favourite songs / reading books in the language they were written in (@swooping--evil)

To not let age stop you from learning. (@uninico)

To always improve yourself. (@uninico)

To be more interesting to others. (@uninico)

To have something new to share with those you know and love. (@uninico)

To connect with a new culture. (@uninico)

To know the feeling of success when you share what you've learned.(@uninico)

To not have to read the subtitles. (@uninico)

To inspire others around you to try. (@uninico)

To learn new (old) traditions. (@uninico)

To express yourself in new ways, in new words. (@uninico)

To shift the way you think. (@uninico)

Because the fact that two people can express the exact same idea in two completely different ways, and still understand each other, is magical. (@uni-venture)

Because knowing more than one writing system is AWESOME. (@uni-venture)

To gain a better understanding of yourself. (@worldapprentice)

I think it helps you develop an open mind in general. (@worldapprentice)

It’s fun! (@worldapprentice)

You “unlock” more content (e.g. you can read a book or watch a movie in the original language; you get to know more singers that sing in your target language and read articles about them; etc...) (@worldapprentice)

It can turn out useful later in life (@worldapprentice)

It’s really cool when you meet a native speaker and have a conversation with them “showing off” your skills (@worldapprentice)

I’d like to give a huge thank you to everyone who participated and sent in their reasons! I hope that you enjoy the final product, because I had a lot of fun doing this! I’d also like to thank everyone who reblogged & liked the post with the project info, and spread the word around. 103 is more reasons than I thought I’d get, so I’m ecstatic!

Here’s a list of everyone who participated:

#rtlalproject #reasons to learn a language #langblrnet #equaticns #phctcsynthesis #aoademic #studyflwr #brbimstudying #areistotle #focusign

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 6 years

Text

I’ll Meet You At The Bottom Part 32

Since my birthday is tomorrow I may or may not put another chapter out that day. Like Imma try, but I make no promises.

Azula had to laugh, at least to herself. She had left the Ash Pit with intentions to never go back and there she was brining it home with her. Fair was fair though, she had to deal with Sokka’s stupid friends now he’d have to deal with her sketchy companions. “Just pick one already.” She sighed at Bo-Rem.

“I don’t like any of them.” The girl grumbled. “And the one’s I do are too small.” She held up another shirt that had no room to accommodate her muscles. “Ya know what, I’m just going to check the men’s section.”

“What’re we doin’ here?” Yoko barked as he gestured about the marketplace. “Taeyul needs help ‘n you need to fix yer priorities.”

“I do have my priorities straight.” Azula argued. “If you actually want to make it into the palace, you all are going to have to looked respectable.” She looked at the sorry lot. “Or at least, presentable.” Azula entertained herself by picking through a few articles of clothing. She looked up from it to see Yoko still loitering about. “The sooner you pick something, the sooner we can leave. He plucked something from a hanger without looking and handed it to her. “Are you sure that you want that one?”

Without looking at it he nodded.

“Alright, fine.” She rolled her eyes. Whether he liked it or not, he would be wearing it. It was the most childish looking dress attire she’d ever seen in the men’s section. Boryuk found something remotely quick, while Yoona was off in the back fumbling with a particularly elaborate, multipiece kimono. The girl had no idea how to wear it properly and was lost in a forest of fine fabric. “How about we try something a little easier.” Azula suggested, leading her over to the once piece dresses.

“Why don’t Taeyul have to do this?” Yoko complained.

Azula blinked, this question she wouldn’t dignify with a response. Instead she turned to Kohza. He, unlike the rest of them, seemed to be relishing in the experience. This was part of the higher life he had been longing to part take in and was eagerly sifting through each robe he could spy. He seemed to love each and every one for a different reason. Which was almost as bad as detesting them all. He was taking just as long as Bo-Rem but for a completely opposite reason.

Chan, unaspiringly, picked out something with ease and took to glaring at Sokka who glared back; an unbreakable display of no-contact testosterone. Azula had an unweaving suspicion that Sokka had started this ridiculous staring contest. She made a point of directly standing in the incorporeal line their strong eye contact was creating. She could practically feel the tension beaming through her soul, but it was worth it to have ended their little pissing contest. “Chan, go help Kohza pick his favorite.”

He shoved himself off of the shelf he had been leaning on and sulked over to Kohza.

“What about me, what do I get to do?” Sokka asked.

“You can keep an eye on Taeyul or go help Bo-Rem, your pick.”

“Is, ‘keep standing right over here’ an option?” Sokka replied.

“It was until you asked for something to do.” Azula shrugged.

She watched him—equally as cross as his newfound rival—make his way towards Taeyul. That left her, was there ever any doubt, to Bo-Rem. It took much longer than it should have, but at last Azula found something that Bo-Rem could tolerate. From there it was remotely easy. Despite so, the princess found herself growing antsy; she was itching to finally get back to her training. Bo-Rem’s prior commentary might have hit a little closer to home than she was willing to admit. Even without, Azula missed going through the rigorous motions of firebending. With Zuko well on his way to Ember Island—she didn’t believe that he actually would until the boat was actually on its way with him in it—there would be no hassle at all in getting the group into the palace. She was, after all, their temporary Fire Lord, if she wanted to bring in a bunch of shady ruffians, they’d have to let her. “Now, if everybody except Chan and Khoza keeps quiet, everything should go smoothly. Azula settled her gaze on Yoona and her constant stream of almost intangible babble. She went blissfully undaunted by Azula’s stare.

“See that tree, Chan?” Sokka asked as he pointed to the dragon maple. “That’s our spot, mine and Azula’s. It has been for a while now.”

“Good to finally be informed.” Azula muttered.

“So?” Chan asked.

“So, you can’t go under it.”

“I don’t want to go under your stupid tree!” Chan threw his hands up. “I don’t even like trees!”

“Who doesn’t like trees?” Sokka shouted. This was more pointless than any argument Azula had ever tried to start with him. She made sure to stomp it out before they finished crossing the courtyard. Once inside the palace they were greeted by Aang. It didn’t take long for the other two to appear.

“Idiots of Sokka, meet my, probably bigger, idiots.” Azula introduced. “I’ll let you all get to know each other.”

“I like her.” Toph pointed at Bo-Rem.

“Wait, where are you going?” Sokka asked.

“I have to work on my firebending. I’m sure Chan can handle…”

“No he can’t.” Sokka whispered.

“You’re right, he doesn’t know who to ask.” Azula resigned to wasting another few moments. “Katara, that’s Taeyul. You can help him, yes?”

“I think that I can.” She nodded. And after inspecting him for a few moments, backtracked some. “I hope that I can. He’s…he’s not in good shape.”

“If you can help me, I’m sure you can help him.” Azula assured.

“Azula, you were never that close to death.”

Azula shuddered at the possibility that she was close at all and wondered exactly which time that had been.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Mind if I come train with you?” Chan asked.

The idea of him watching her when her skills were so rusty…so neglected sent a new kind of dread radiating through her. He was one of the few who still had a mostly polished, untainted version of her. No, she planned on training alone—her firebending was one area where everyone still had a pristine impression. If not, they had high expectations; not quite at the altitude of her own, but still high. “I train alone.”

“Since when?” He asked.

Since you asked, the retort was on the tip of her tongue. “Since I decided that I need to focus.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Besides, you have some bonding to do.”

Chan looked reluctantly at the gang.

It didn’t take long, not at all. In fact, she had taken only a few steps into the adjoining hall when she heard footsteps padding along behind her. Sokka had a very distinct step sound, heavy but in a soft sort of way that she couldn’t explain with certainty. It might have been that he still liked to wear fur boots that suffocated the brunt of the noise. She knew it would drive Chan up the wall, but she let him tag along. Somehow she didn’t really mind if he watched her fail miserably, he already has multiple times. “You can come along, but don’t do anything distracting.” She tossed back at him.

“I was just gonna grab my canvas and paint while you do you your fire thing.” Sokka replied.

“I’ll meet you there.” She replied. While he split off to fetch his supplies from his room, she stopped for a change of clothes. Something with a lesser excess of sleeves. Something a little easier to move in and a little less flammable.

Azula began before Sokka arrived, a quick warmup that went relatively smoothly. She also worked through the first set of stances in her normal routine. A task that proved to her that her skills had been so horribly neglected. She supposed that she should be thankful; even at her lowest she could still probably get the better of the average firebender. But that wasn’t good enough, not at all. The one thing she had prided herself for, she no longer had complete mastery over. She was slower, slightly off balance, her muscles weaker from such a prolonged lack of use. She was nearly frustrated to tears, these things should be coming naturally to her. But they weren’t, she knew that she shouldn’t have expected them too. And so it was that Sokka’s sudden presence was once again uncomfortable and unwelcomed, no matter how much he’d already seen. She didn’t want him to see her stumble, not at this.

“Why do you go paint outside?” She asked.

“I always paint outside.” Sokka shrugged. “Besides, I want to watch you firebend. It always looked so…powerful. It’ll be nice to see it without you trying to kill me while doing it.”

“Say the wrong thing and I will definitely kill you, Sokka.” Azula promised.

“Are you stalling?”

“What? No. I’m taking a break.”

“Already?”

She sent a tiny bolt of lightning at his feet and he lifted his arms in surrender. “That’s a good start, now keep that up.” He grinned stupidly. Azula hated that goofy grin. She waited until he began fishing out his paints to resume her own task. At first, the firebender mostly dabbled with her lightning, she’d never truly lost her touch there. It brought a sense of comfort to know so. By the time she decided to go back to bending fire, Sokka was mostly engrossed in his art. Enough so that Azula felt less observed as she conjured up a whirling pinwheel of fire. This earned her a sharp, “hey careful, working with delicate material here.”

“I’m sure your ego will hold up.” Azula rolled her eyes. “Besides, it wasn’t even close to you.”

She moved onto something more elaborate, a form that involved a rapid barrage of fire and a few midair kicks. The first few went smoothly but she was tiring much faster than she would have liked. She paused for a minute or two and then resumed. In due time she found herself decently satisfied with that set and threw in something new; an old favorite technique. Something that required a bit of a running start. A running start that burst into a jump and brining her leg down in an arc of fire and then a repetition of the motion but instead of an arc she would go for a somersault of fire. This didn’t go quite so smoothly. Her first arc was rather impressive, but the somersault ended with a harsh thud. One loud enough to catch Sokka’s attention and add the first tinge of pink to her cheeks. She blew her bangs from her face and tried a second time. And a third, each seemed to be progressively getting worse. She found herself growing increasingly more embarrassed, and therefore, irritated with every blunder. She looked ridiculous. She tried for another somersault of flames, but she had put too much force into it, bringing her down without a scrap of grace. Azula stumbled to keep her balance. She could practically see her father leering at her. She tried it a third time, that one ending more tragically than the time before it. That time she hadn’t even landed on her feet. Sokka’s eyes seemed practically glued to her by then and she was making a fool of herself. By then her face was completely flushed with both humiliation and simmering agitation. She went for it once more, this time not even succeeding with the first arc.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Sokka spoke gently, he put his brush down. “You bend better when you’re not angry. Isn’t that why you were so good at firebending before? Because you were so calm.”

Azula brushed her hair out of her face; when had it gotten so long? He had a solid point, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but exasperation, not when this should be coming so naturally to her.

“Here.” He came to stand behind her, first massaging the tension out of her shoulders and then out of her back. After doing so, he lifted her arm and extended it, mimicking the stances he’d so often seen her utilize. Some time into it she took the lead and let him follow her through the motions. His hold restricted her from producing any fire at all. Though it was about structure at that point, structure and stance. She could incorporate fire again later. For the time being, Azula was content with the intimacy. Content with his interest in bending with her, even if he could ever hope to produce a spark. She could feel his muscles rippling and contorting against her back. Could smell the tinge of sea-salt on his body. He must have recently taken a saltwater bath. He borrowed her pine soap, from the smell of it. His aroma soothed her some. And then he let go, his touch lingering only for one more brief moment.

.oOo.

Upon leaving her side, Azula added fire to the movements that they had just worked through. Her movements were simpler, less bold than he recalled. Speed seemed to be sidelined for perfecting the motions themselves. But she was as elegant as he was used to, despite the occasional falter. She was frighteningly powerful as ever and he hoped that she knew that. He watched slid from one stance to the next in fluid motions. She seemed more relaxed. Sokka couldn’t bring himself to pick up the brush again, he’d rather watch the real Azula.

Perhaps he would join her some time, his swordsmanship was getting a bit rusty and he wouldn’t mind making a few slashes and slices, especially after spying some of the expensive training equipment scattered about the room.

After some time had gone by, she tried for the somersaults again, her landings were still shaky or on her back altogether. He feared that she was hurting herself and wondered how many bruises would line the length of her back. She seemed undaunted by that though. By the end of it all, she was a little red faced and breathing hard.

He had to admire her dedication.

.oOo.

Sokka extended a hand and pulled her up. “You’ve been at this for hours now, I think it’s time to call it a night.”

Azula wanted to protest, but even she knew there was no sense in draining herself on the first day. She hadn’t even trained that relentlessly during her prime. Hesitantly she let him lead her back to the springs so she could freshen herself up. She was a bit of a wreck but she didn’t need to look the part.

A quick sweep of the dinner table confirmed that everyone still had yet to warm up to one another. Toph and Bo-Rem were the oddities, they connected right away. Not that Azula hadn’t predicted such. Bo-Rem was speaking fondly of The Rumble and Toph was insisting that she should part take. Listening to all of the awkward and forced conversation, Azula couldn’t wait to add dear Zu-Zu to the mix. The look on his face would be precious.

This became a sort of routine. In between checking on Teayul and keeping tabs on both groups of idiots, the princess would retreat to go through her techniques. Eventually her touch would have come back to her, she supposed that she just needed to get used to going through the motions again. Sokka was always there working on either the painting of her. Eventually that came to a halt, in a fit of annoyance—during a particularly taxing firebending form—Azula carelessly kicked a ball of sapphire flame in Sokka’s direction. It both had him facedown on the ground after a spectacularly dramatic dive and nearly scorched the canvas. After dusting himself off Sokka cradled his portrait as if it were some precious gem. After that he wouldn’t let her near it at all claiming that such dangerous activities did not create a safe and healthy environment for a growing portrait. He no longer brought that canvas into the training room, instead he would bring a simple brush and ink and would create careless doodles. Sometimes she would pause her own training and watch him draw until she felt ready to begin again.

The days had a new sense of normalcy to them.

And on most of them the Ruby Tears hadn’t crossed her mind.

#Sokkla #Azula #Sokka #Toph #Aang #Katara #Zuko #Fanfiction #Avatar

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hellomissmabel · 7 years

Text

The Red Queen (3/3)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Nat x reader, Bucky x reader

Warnings: Major plot twist. Violence. Mentions of rape (please don’t read if this is not your cup of tea!) and sexual activity (if you look real close). Two girls kissing each other (idk if this shoud be a warning or not really).

Word count: 2.300

Summary: A small yet skilled art thief is drawn to the French Riviera to settle a score, only to be met with the surprise of a lifetime.

The prompt: The reader can erase memories, or so she thinks. In reality, she merely misplaces them. But those misplaced memories have to go somewhere, the only question is, where?

A/N: This is a mini series I’ve written while on the road. It’s not an AU (surprise surprise!) and I feel like I’m a bit rusty writing something else. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it @jurassicbarnes <3

Thank you Google Translate for the Russian translations.

Read part 1 here

Read part 2 here

“Will it hurt?”

You brush away a strand of brown hair that has fallen in front of his baby blues, shaking your head with a small smile. “You won’t feel a thing, Bucky.”

He looks a little more assured and nods, indicating he’s ready. “Okay,” Bucky exhales slowly, taking your hands in his and squeezing them gently. “Let’s do this, doll.”

It’s been a hectic 9 weeks, practising with Wanda to get your powers under control and walking on tiptoes whenever you’re around Natasha. She’s still very sceptic, very wary in your presence but this last week she’s been warming up more. Perhaps she’s finally accepted you’re the only one that can help Bucky. Or maybe she’s been keeping her distance for another, more personal reason.

It hasn’t escaped Natasha’s attention that there are quite a few similarities between the two of you. The same posture, the same jawline, the same right hook. Sure, she’s harder and tougher than you, because her skill comes from a much darker place, and her body undoubtedly has a much better physique thanks to the hands-on training schedule she upholds here at the compound.

But if they were to give you a wig and some contacts, few would notice the difference and it both frightens and turns her on. Because yes, she is attracted to you and has been since she first laid eyes on you.

Natasha watches you intently, joining the other Avengers behind the glass. Only you and Wanda are allowed inside, together with Bucky. Wanda has complete faith in your ability to give Bucky back his mind and ultimately, his life. And this faith extends to Bucky, too, with whom you’ve worked intensively for a little over 6 weeks.

“Remember that I trust you, Y/N,” he whispers softly as he brings your knuckles to his lips.

Steve can see Natasha stiffen from the corner of his eye as Sam rolls his eyes a little too dramatically. Of course Sam knew, he has an eye for these things, and Steve has always suspected there could’ve been something more going on between you and Bucky. But that it has escaped Natasha’s attention… He finds that very hard to believe, even though her reaction speaks of a different story.

Exhaling a shuddering breath, Bucky releases your hands. “You won’t feel a thing,” you assure him again as you cup his face. “In fact, you will feel absolutely nothing at all. No pain, no physical stimulation at all. No emotions either. It’ll be quick and the only thing you might experience is a slight sting as he enter and leave your mind.”

It’s nothing new, you’ve gone over this a million times already. But it calms Bucky’s nerves to more you repeat those words to him. “Close your eyes, Bucky,” you tell him kindly before pressing your lips to his forehead and entering his mind.

It doesn’t take you long to find the trigger words, embedded deep in the essence of his mind. Word for word you wipe it all out. First the trigger words, then the memories of all the people he hurt and killed. Eventually you move further and erase the entire existence of Hydra in his mind.

“Think of me when you look at the moon at night,” you mumble to his skin as you kiss his forehead again. “Remember that I could’ve loved you.”

Taking a step back, you watch him open his eyes again. His bright smile reveals that he didn’t hear anything of what you said to him, and maybe it’s for the best.

“How do you feel?,” Wanda inquires carefully as she comes to stand next to you.

“I – I’m not sure,” Bucky speaks quietly, his eyes going back and forth between you and Wanda. “Did it work?”

“Yes, it worked, Bucky,” you confirm in an equally soft voice. He reaches for your hand but you don’t let him take it, his fingers barely brushing yours as his hand falls limp on his knee.

Wanda coughs loudly and gives you a little pat on your shoulder. “Good job, Y/N. I knew you had it in you. I’ll give you two a minute before I tell the others they can come in.”

Smiling gratefully at the witch, your eyes follow her until she has left the room. Afraid to look at Bucky, you fixate on the floor instead. With his fingertip, he carefully lifts up your chin and tells you to look at him.

“What’s wrong?,” he asks as he searches your eyes for the answer.

“We have ten minutes left.”

His eyes speak of confusion before his features even out and return to the stone-like expression he carried when you first met. “You’re leaving. Today?”

“Natasha…,” you try to reason with him, trying to make him understand. “I got the feeling she didn’t want me around anymore and I don’t want to cross her, so I made arrangements…”

Bucky stands up and moves away from you. “Thank you, Y/N,” he mumbles under his breath, turning the doorknob.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper eventually, even though he has already left the room. If only you could confide in him about everything.

You’re waiting at the helicopter site, watching the starry night sky while thinking of Bucky. Yet soon your peaceful retreat is clouded by another presence, invading the silent cocoon you’ve created for yourself.

“I didn’t think you’d be leaving so soon,” she speaks in a hushed tone, afraid she’ll startle you. “I didn’t mean to scare you away.”

There’s a certain vulnerability to her words and it surprises you. She has lowered her guard, the infamous Black Widow is showing her kinder side to you and you can clearly sense it feels foreign to her to do so.

“You didn’t scare me away, Natasha,” you reply gently, finally locking eyes with the redhead. She smiles at you, a true and genuine smile. “I just don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression, Y/N. I – I do like you,” she tells me honestly. “I just – I still don’t quite understand.”

A mild breeze blows through her faint red curls when you turn your body to face her properly. “I’m afraid I don’t understand either.”

Taking a step closer, you brush away a stray curl like you did with Bucky, only with different intent. You instantly notice when she pulls up her walls again, flinching just an inch when the tip of your finger touches her cheek.

“You said you liked me?,” you ask her when you take another step towards her. “In what way, Nat?”

Giving the redhead no time to assess the situation, you slowly press your lips to hers, kissing her tentatively. You know, you’ve always known the assassin had a thing for you. From the moment you started training with Wanda and you caught her staring at you when she thought you were too concentrated you wouldn’t notice.

And the morning after you left Bucky’s sheets, when you heard her trash around things in her room, only further confirmed your suspicions. She is not one to easily show her emotions, but to you she is an open book. After all, you two are linked and for a very good reason, just not the one you’d expect.

As soon as she starts to give more of herself into the kiss, parting her lips so the tip of your tongue can fall in line with hers, you reach behind you and underneath your shirt. Your hands immediately find the double-edged blade you’ve kept concealed on your back.

Briefly, your mind wanders into hers and you erase all traces of you from her memory, breaking the link you’ve established between the two of you. She might not remember but your paths have crossed before, a long time ago when you were wandering the streets of Bucharest, shadowing Natasha during her pursuit for the Winter Soldier. All it took was one bump with your shoulder and the link had been established.

Afterwards, you gingerly slide the knife away from its hiding place and without further ado strike Natasha right in her chest cavity, in the space just underneath her heart. Her mouth falls open as she receives the first blow, pupils blown wide in both surprise and an emotion you can only describe as somewhere between hurt and hatred. Natasha falls to the floor and as you hover over her, you speak in perfect Russian.

“красная королева посылает ей привет.” (the red queen sends her regards)

With broken, laboured breaths she heaves out a string of insults and profanities. “почему ты это делаешь?” (why are you doing this?)

Crawling backwards on the floor, leaving behind a trail of deep crimson blood, Natasha tries to make her escape. She has some fight left in her but after your betrayal, she isn’t sure if she wants to fight back anymore.

“Y/N…,” she pleads with you, her spirit crushing a second time as you stab her again and she cries out in agony.

“The man who saved me from being swallowed by the sea,” you give her another jab to her side, “He worked for the same people who trained you.” Stab. “They raped me first.” Stab. “To make me obedient.”

The knife sinks deep into her skin and she has to bite her tongue not to scream. Nobody will hear her anyway, all too busy raising their glasses to Bucky’s recovery a couple floors down. Her eyes turn glassier the more blood she loses, the more violent your attack becomes.

“Then they started their experiments, making me their freak. And after their experiments had proven to be successful, they started to operate on me. I know you noticed the similarities long before I did.”

“Why me?,” the redhead whispers faintly, her eyes fluttering closed.

“I asked myself the same question over and over again. Why me?,” you mimic in her feeble voice. “Because we have the same body type? Maybe. Possibly.”

“Why?,” she repeats softly, already losing consciousness faster than anticipated.

“Because what happens in the red room, stays in the red room. And you didn’t follow your orders, Natasha Romanoff. So you see, they needed someone to tie up some loose ends. And when I washed up on shore like a perfect little present, all that was missing was some gift-wrapping to make it complete.”

Kneeling next to Natasha, your jeans stained by her blood, you grip her hair tightly in the same fashion she gripped yours when she rammed your face into the steering wheel. You bittersweet irony makes you grin wickedly in anticipation of the kill.

“They created me in your image, Nattie, and called me the red queen.”

Holding the knife to her throat, you violently turn her head to you when she threatens the pass out. “If I finish you off, I get my freedom back. But don’t worry about your friends…,” you coo softly into her ear, “By the end of the party nobody will remember you. It will be like you never even existed, bitch.”

“No,” she resists weakly, coughing up blood. “You won’t succeed.”

Smirking darkly at the blind faith she puts in her friends, you press the knife closer to her neck. “Goodbye, Natasha.” The first cut draws a sliver of warm blood, the drops running down her cleavage and onto your hand. “Take one last look at the new Black Widow.”

You have every intention of slicing her throat right there and then, but something in her eyes slows you down. It’s not an emotion, soaring in the space between hurt and hatred. It’s not love nor anger, but pure and unadulterated acceptance. She has accepted that this is her end and you must admit it graces her.

This, however, is your fatal mistake. In those few seconds you remove the pressure of the knife, too caught up in your thoughts, Natasha kicks up her head and it collides with yours. With a strangled cry you stumble back and fall from your knees onto your back, but you quickly recover and jump back to your feet. Unfortunately, this leaves Natasha with enough leeway to grab the knife that has clattered to the ground and twist it into your heart.

“меня никто не заменяет (nobody replaces me),” she hisses lowly as she presses the knife further into your heart, putting all her remaining strength into it. “ты мне нравилась.” (I liked you)

Natasha groans when you claw at her, you nails leaving red marks on her arms. “И я мог бы полюбить тебя, моя дорогая.” (And I could’ve loved you, my dear)

You can’t reply, any and all witty comebacks drawn from your lips as the air is knocked out of your lungs. She must’ve read your lips as you whispered those exact same words to Bucky. The only thing you can croak out is “fuck you”.

It is only when your dead body slumps to the cold floor, she releases the strained sobs she’s been holding in through this entire ordeal. Through the tears she searches for the phone that dropped out of your pocket, scanning the numbers for Bucky’s.

In bits and pieces, she cries into the phone. “Bucky… Y/N… she was a spy… sent to kill me…”

Through the cracking of the phone, she can hear the crowd go silent and she knows they’re all listening in. As she’s trying to stop the bleeding, having teared off a piece of fabric from her clothes, Bucky’s concern fills her hazy mind.

He asks her where she is, her voice ebbing away as she tries to reply. He tells her to stay with him, that help is on the way, but she fails to reply as everything goes dark, Bucky’s voice screaming into her ear.

Epilogue

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