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oliviayamaoka · 3 years ago

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The Roseville Murders (Chapter 2)

Hi, just wanted to say I adjusted the plot slightly and will go into more detail with the story next chapter! This was a bit experimental and I wanted to write the growing relationship / rivalry between Y/N and Danny. I also wanted to write Y/N as a girlboss and to be just as witty as Danny!

Anyways, please comment any ideas or suggestions you may wanna see in future chapters! I have this planned out but would love any ideas or stuff I can add into the story! Tysm for reading!

It rained softly outside as you took a seat at your workplace. The desk was a bit cluttered with your art, notes, junk, and your papers regarding your current investigation.

One of the drawings on your desk was a sketch of Ghostface’s mask, attached to it was a few notes regarding the origin of the mask. Did Ghostface care for the history of it, anyways? You already theorized he was a narcissist who took pride in his work. Perhaps, he admired Edward Munch and his infamous “The Scream” artwork? Or maybe he based his persona off of it? You weren’t too sure but you did research the distribution and the company that made the masks. It wasn’t a particular popular company but it only distributed to the USA, Canada, and Brazil.

Ghostface didn’t seem too caring when it came to where he stabbed victims. As long as there was a lot of blood and something only he could perceive as art. And maybe you too. You felt excited, you already had a three year timeline. Maybe, you could get ahold of other states and ask if there’s been similar killings. Maybe even Brazil and Canada? You had to pinpoint a location and see if you could find just one name, any name.

Three years. Three countries. A part of you doubted he was Brazilian. Maybe Canadian? You weren’t so sure, you were pretty sure he was American. Y/N would probably have to go to the library tommorow to do research and use the slowly growing internet. Your research was suddenly halted when you knocked your sketchbook over.

Our slid a page. You kneeled down to pick it up, holding it as you examined the dark sketch. On the paper was a sketch of claws? No, they also looked like tentacles. Ever since the incident, you had dreams of these tentacle claws grabbing you and pulling you away from life as you know it. It must’ve been a sign of trauma or maybe it represented what happened through the nightmares? You slid it back into your sketchbook, deciding not to dwell on it. It would only make your room feel more depressing.

Beside your sketchbook was your leather journal. Y/N wrote everything in there, for mental health reasons. You included the incident and what Jonathan did for you. Your previous therapist said journaling your thoughts helped the healing process. It worked but journaling about how you killed your abuser was hell.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when your phone rang. It was a chunky, black mobile phone you got about a week ago? Y/N reached for it and answered.

“Hello?” You answered, using your other hand to organize your desk.

“Hello?” A voice answered, it was a male by the sound of it.

“Hi, who’s this?” Y/N asked, paying no mind to the phone call as she started to put some of her stuff away. Art supplies.

“Who’s this?” He replied.

“Y/N L/N, am I who you’re trying to reach?” You asked, sitting back down.

“Ah, you’re no fun, detective.” He chuckled as you stopped, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. Who was this?

“My apologies but, this is my personal phone. Can I ask who gave you this number?” You questioned him.

“Why does it matter, gorgeous? I know it’s you now.” He responded.

“Please don’t call me that. And yes, I am indeed a detective but I’d feel more comfortable discussing anything with you on my work phone.” Y/N said sternly.

“Oh, yeah… Detective L/N, huh? Think you’re some sort of hotshot because you’re new? Where did you come from? Washington? Gonna take more than the feds to catch me.” He said to you.

You listened intently and stopped for a moment. Catch him? Must be a stupid prank. Although, not a funny one since he had your personal phone number. An eyebrow raised as you looked at your notes on Ghostface.

“You still haven’t told me your name. Let’s not be rude, yeah?” You responded, being a little more cocky since you were off-duty.

“Awe, don’t tell me you forgot my name. I’ll give you a hint… I’ve been quite famous lately. In fact, I think you’ve taken quite the interest in me, Y/N.” The man teased. It was 100% Danny.

“I asked for a name, not an alias.” You said.

“Maybe after dinner, hotshot.” Danny said to you as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m not in Roseville to play games. Either verify you are who you claim to be or quit wasting my time.” Y/N spoke with a stern tone.

“My last victim had three stab wounds to the throat. It was going to be two but their scream wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. And they had a tattoo on their upper thigh. Bella Smith.” He said as you froze for a moment.

It was true. The latest murder victim was a middle-aged woman named Bella Smith who worked at a convenience store. She had multiple stab wounds but it was pretty much impossible to see she had three wounds on her throat just looking at photos of the crime scene.

“Okay and how did you get my number? I imagine the infamous Ghostface doesn’t have access to these types of things. How do I know this isn’t some sort of elaborate prank orchestrated by my coworkers?” You questioned.

“Honey, I am Roseville. Also sounds like you have experience with these kinds of things. You ever get humiliated like that?” Danny asked, grinning widely.

“No, it’s just a very logical conclusion. And why would you be talking to me anyways?” You asked him.

While you spoke to him, you quickly wrote down what he said and what he sounded like. You quickly speculated what his age may be, maybe 25?

“I keep tabs on the cops who are investigating my work and to be honest? They’re all stupid, it’s pathetic. Although, I noticed something about you. You come from one of the big cities, don’t you? You’re actually smart compared to those other pigs.” He said.

“Those pigs you speak of have tried their best in pursuing you. They have families too.” You responded.

“Really, huh? You’ve only been here three weeks? I think you should just trust me on this one because those other officers really don’t know what they’re doing. If you actually find out who I am, are they gonna give you credit? The newbie? A woman?” He asked.

“I don’t understand why gender is an issue. And why would they try to steal credit?” You questioned.

“They’re stuck in this shit hole city and I bet they could just really use a promotion right now. They want so badly to be the hero that arrests me… but first, they’ll let the freshly graduated detective do the work. It’s so easy to overshadow women in this world.” Danny said.

“Well, I don’t care. As long as you’re put behind bars.” Y/N responded.

“The bars at this station? I must say, your desk is quite cute. A bit plain but I like your style… interesting files too.” He mused.

“Huh?” You responded, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Your lil’ office at the station, I like it. This place has always been easy to break into. You noticed it too, didn’t you? Their security sucks and their morgue is just too damn small.” Danny said as you frantically looked around, shoving your shoes on.

“I’m going to call them right now and tell them you’re there. That was a stupid move on your part.” You said, practically yelling.

“So young and naive. I’ll be long gone.” He responded, chuckling as you hung up.

“Fuck, shit!” You said, quickly dialling the number to the police station.

You practically flung your door open, sprinting down the hallway and out through the front doors of the apartment complex after three flights of stairs. Your heart rate increased as you continued running down the sidewalk, feeling more frantic when there was no answer.

“Answer…!” You yelled, calling the emergency number.

“911, how can I help you?” A staticky voice answered as you continued running.

“I’m Detective Y/N L/N! Please inform the police station that there’s an intruder! He might be armed and dangerous! Do not touch anything since there may be forensic evidence!” You instructed.

“Oh—yes, right away, ma’am!” The dispatcher answered as you hung up, continuing to focus on your running towards the station.

Back at your apartment complex, there stood Danny with his own mobile phone. It couldn’t be traced back to him since it was stolen and he didn’t leave any DNA on it. If anything, it had the previous owners. Bella Smith. Your apartment complex had fire escape stairs outside your window. Easy enough, he thought. His outfit was black and had some stuff hanging off it. Strings? Ribbons? Danny was quite quick and extremely quiet when it came to climbing the set of stairs.

He reached your window, pulling it open gently and hoisting himself through, landing gently whilst kneeled down. For precaution, he had his knife gripped in one hand. This was purely for investigation and to see what you truly had on him. His head tilted curiously as he noticed your desk. Your art and notebook. His gloved hand reached out to your sketch of him.

Danny was truly impressed at how detailed and good it was. He read through your sticky notes and theories. Other than the fact he was blown away, he knew you were a threat since you successfully guessed his age range and height. Wait, his height? You did a careful examination of the footage he was in, looking at objects around him and his boots to correctly guess a height.

“What the fuck…?” Danny muttered as he looked at your notes.

The Scream by Edward Munch and a costume company? He skimmed over your notes and the psychological profile you built on him. He felt somewhat panicked since you were indeed no joke. His gaze averted towards your leather notebook. Eagerly, he grabbed it and opened it. Most of it was your thoughts and causes of your stress and anxiety. He stopped flipping through when he saw a darker page. It was dark because of the writing and how crumpled it seemed.

December 23rd, 1992

I was walking down an alleyway two weeks ago. It was cold so I had a jacket over my uniform. I suppose that’s why the man didn’t know I was an officer.

At first, I thought that he was going to try and rob me. It took me a while to realize that my money and belongings wasn’t what he was after. I suppose it would be appropriate to say that I was in shock for a moment. He never finished what he started. Despite being in shock, I was able to feel everything and the adrenaline only helped my rage.

Why? Why did this have to happen to me? After getting him off, I pulled my gun out and he stopped. I still remember the look on his face after I shot him. He was scared and pathetic, as he was in life. I don’t regret killing him. I never will. I just feel utterly violated. Never once have I been touched like that so violently. Is this what this fucked up world has come to? What if I didn’t have my gun and training?

He definitely did this to other women… he deserved to die. And I would do it all over again to him and to other men just like him. Of course, I had to call the police. They were going to charge me with manslaughter but they said that they would push this all under the rug, just as long as I never tell anybody. Did I contribute to corruption in the police force? This getting out would ruin everything. I don’t know but I do know that this was my gift.

Freedom was my gift for killing that man. It felt oddly exhilarating. I hope nobody remembers him, I hope his family know what kind of monster he was. Anyways, I’m being reassigned somewhere. They said they’ll give me my first investigation. In a smaller city.

Danny’s fingers trailed over the page. He felt angry and sad for you. That this happened to you. But, something arose in him when he kept re-reading that paragraph. You… enjoyed it? Behind the mask, he had a soft expression on his face. He imagined your beautiful face full of blood with you and your gun. He smiled gently as he kept the notebook.

He did indeed feel bad for you but he wasn’t satisfied with his limited knowledge of you. Danny decided to use this notebook of incriminating evidence to hold some leverage over you. Not only that but he figured he’d get to know you better if they had something interesting to talk to you about. Danny couldn’t help but grin when he thought about your journal entry and the sketches you made of him. So smart yet so naive.

Danny quickly took a look around your apartment to see all points of entry. He took a peak into your bedroom, it was neat and tidy. He seemed somewhat paranoid so quickly went back to your living room window, making his swift little escape. Not without taking some of your notes on him and your sketchbook.

About two hours later, you rubbed your eyes in frustration as another officer came to talk to you. There was a forensic team still investigating your little office space. Apparently, there was nobody here and your office seemed untouched. For about thirty minutes, you inspected any points of entry and tried to look for out of place shoe marks since it rained outside.

“Detective, are you certain it was the killer who called? We get prank calls a lot.” He said as you nodded.

“Yes, I’m certain. It was him, he knows I’m going to catch him soon.” You said as he nodded a bit.

“Okay, well, we’ll take it from here. Come early tommorow.” He said as you sighed.

“I will but please, don’t miss anything. I’m starting to think he was lying. It was him though.” You said as you turned, walking down the hallway towards the exit.

It seemed to be evening at this point and the rain stopped pouring. It was slightly humid but the city looked oddly beautiful when it was wet? You couldn’t stop thinking about your phone call with Ghostface earlier. Y/N already had some tech professionals try to track the number he called from and all of the information regarding the phone company. You’d have to wait two days at the latest for the results to come back.

As you walked through light puddles, you felt more and more tired. All the running and frantically searching for him was enough to just make you exhausted. It was all last-minute too. Y/N stopped dead in her tracks when she felt her mobile phone ring. You pulled it out of your pocket and answered it.

“Hello?” You asked, tired.

“Hey, gorgeous. Just wanted to apologize for my little deception trick earlier.” He responded as your eyes widened.

“Ghostface…” You responded, shocked that he had the courage to call you again.

“God, hearing that from you…” He said with a slight husk as you took a deep breath quietly to calm yourself.

“You know I’m close, don’t you?” You questioned him as he chuckled.

“Of course, I do… only these hands of mine can do wonders for you.” Danny said to you as you scoffed.

“You’re disgusting.” You say to him.

“Don’t lose your temper now, detective. There’s… things we should discuss.” He cooed.

“Things? Seriously?” You asked him, already tired of his bullshit.

“Yeah! Like, this lil’ notebook of yours! Really deep stuff… Victor Houston, was it? The serial rapist? Must’ve felt real good to put him down, didn’t it? Did it feel as good as you said it did in this thing?” He asked as you froze.

You probably let out a small whimper of shock as your hands trembled. Your heart pumped hard and fast. It was all you can hear as you felt your face heat out of pure embarrassment and shock. He… read your journal? This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good.

“W-What…?” You asked as he cackled.

“God, you’re so hot when you sound scared. Don’t be offended though, babe. You still sound real sexy in your cop tone.” He said as he continued.

“Yeah, I read all about the guy you killed. And how it was all covered up to accommodate you. Are you a star student or something? It’s hard covering up murders… or has it always been easy for you?” He asked.

“I-I, um… how did you get that…?” You asked him, trembling.

“You see, Y/N… we’re the same. You and I are too smart for Roseville. It’s just that I got the upper hand this time. While you rushed to the police station, I took a quick trip into your apartment.” He said as you let out a light gasp.

“Yeah, that’s right! I know where you live, I know where you’re from, and your number. I know who you truly are, Detective Y/N L/N.” Danny said mockingly.

“And what are you going to do with it?” You asked him.

“Always so straight to the point. I might give that annoying little journalist Jed Olsen. You’re trying to work with him, aren’t you? You mentioned in one of these notes… you also think he’s handsome.” He said as you covered your eyes.

You fought tears.

“Why? Why would you do this?” You ask.

“I should be asking you that. I’m a bit jealous you find someone like Olsen… attractive. He’s so boring, so normal, so… ugh, I hate talking about him. Still though, nice to know I have another fan besides him.” He said to you.

“Where are you going with this?!” You snapped as he chuckled darkly.

“I won’t tell anybody. Just as long as you halt your investigation for a while. I still want to have fun in Roseville here and well… get to know you.” He said.

“Go to hell.” You muttered.

“How original… so what’ll it be? I kinda need to know now since I’m also on a bit of a time crunch.” Danny asked you.

“W-What the fuck do you want me to do? Sit back and watch as you kill more innocent people?! I won’t let you.” You said with a venomous tone.

“What are you gonna do? Stop me behind bars?” He asked mockingly.

“Fuck you.” You said.

“I’m sure we will. But first, I just want you to sit back and not do anything stupid. We’ll see each other eventually. I’ll call you from another phone soon.” He said, hanging up.

You held your phone in disbelief and quickly made sure you had your gun. How the hell could you have been so dumb?! It was genius, leading you away from you apartment and finding such leverage against you purely out of luck. Your breath trembled as you walked back to your apartment, having your gun ready in your pocket as you did so.

#dbd x reader #ghostface x reader #the ghostface #ghostface dbd #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen x reader #jed olsen #danny johnson #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight

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naminethewriter · 3 years ago

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America’s Favourite Gameshow!!

Day 2 and I’m still on track! It’s way too late though and I hope I get done with the other prompts sometime before 12am 😴 Anyway, have fun with this silly little fluff story 💙💚🥰 @intrulogicalweek2021

Here on Ao3

Masterpost | Intrulogical Week 2021 Masterpost

Characters: Remus, Logan

Relationship: romantic Intrulogical

Rating: G

Words: 1,480

Summary: Logan just wanted to make sure his boyfriend ate something. Remus wants entertainment more.

Logan walked along the halls of Remus’ castle in search of his boyfriend who had run off after breakfast to continue some project of his. Now, hours later, Logan wanted to ensure that he had eaten since then because while they didn’t require to eat, considering they were just figments of Thomas’ overactive subconscious, it had proven to be beneficial to their wellbeing as well as Thomas’. It had taken Logan almost a year of research to come to that conclusion but it had been well worth the effort.

But both sides of Creativity were prone to forgetting the passage of time while working on one of their passion projects, hence Logan’s decision to check on Remus this afternoon. He had already looked through most of the grounds and was now on his way up into a tower. It was pretty much separated from the rest of the castle and nobody but Logan and the Duke himself had access and Remus spend a lot of time up there doing whatever he wants without disturbance. The only reason that Logan had put off checking there first is because he disliked the long, long staircase leading up. About three fourth of the way up, Logan could hear cluttering sounds, so it seemed reasonable to assume his search would soon be over.

After another five minutes of climbing he finally reached the top, only one door separating him from whatever mess Remus has caused this time. Logan took a few deep breaths before pushing it open.

Pure Chaos laid before him. He couldn’t even begin to describe it. Furniture overturned and broken. Paint or something colourful had gotten everywhere. Glass shards, papers, confetti, everything scattered randomly around the room and Remus in the middle of it.

Logan didn’t even attempt going any further in. Instead he called out to his boyfriend who turned to face so fast, his head rotated more than it should with a sickening crack.

“Lolo!” he grinned, pulling his head back into the right position before climbing over the rubble to the door. As soon as he got into touching distance he wrapped himself around Logan in a tight hug. His boyfriend just patted his arm until he let go. “What brings you here, starshine? You horny?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing Logan to roll his eyes.

“No Remus, I am not horny. I simply came to check on you since I haven’t seen you since breakfast.”

“Ah shit, is it already evening? Damn time flies when you’re busy, huh.”

“What were you doing in the first place? This entire room is a mess.” Logan immediately regretted asking when he saw the smile spreading across his boyfriend’s face. “No, Remus, please-“

Too late.

Remus snapped and suddenly there was a spotlight on the two of them, two more swinging across the room that was now notably darker. Some kind of jingle started playing and an invisible audience started applauding. Remus, now in a suit, brought a microphone to his mouth.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! You have waited patiently and now it is finally time to play America’s favourite gameshow! It’s” – the fake audience yelled along the next words –

“Art or Science!”

“The rules are simple,” Remus continued alone. “Our returning champion, Logan ‘Logic’ Sanders, has five minutes to survey the room and then he has to decide: did I cause this chaos in the name of Art or Science! He is allowed to ask me three things to specify, not one hint more. Our contestant has a success rate of 66% so far and I’m sure we are all curious to see the result of our fourth episode of-!” Remus held the mic away from him and again the imaginary audience shouted:

“Art or Science!”

“Now, Logan. Are you ready to start?” Remus held out the mic to Logan this time who groaned and levelled him with an unimpressed glare.

“Is this really necessary, Cephy?” Remus laughed and threw his arms open.

“Of course not, but it’s fun so we’re doing it!” Logan massaged his temple. Ever since Thomas had taken to binge watching SNL sketches on YouTube, Remus had been practically enthralled with their game show parodies. Especially if Bill Hader (Remus’ favourite cast member) played the host. His top spot shifted between ‘What’s that Name?’ and ‘Who’s on Top’ every five minutes and Logan couldn’t deny that the chaos of those concepts fit Remus very well, so it should be no surprise that he thought of his own little show. It just annoyed Logan that he was the only contestant ever having to deal with it.

Well, at least it was short. He could play along for five minutes.

“Fine, start the clock.” Remus cheered, as did the audience, and the light returned to how it was before, with the entire room evenly lit.

“As always, please don’t hesitate to give us play-by-play commentary on your thought process, Sherlock,” Remus giggled and Logan nodded absentmindedly, already scanning the room for clues. He took the first minute to simply think and his boyfriend let him but Logan knew he would grow impatient eventually.

“Clearly there is both art supplies as well as lab equipment present and I have witnessed you using both for the others intended purpose, so that does not provide any essential hints. The furniture is mostly broken and out of place. Especially that table that seems to be hanging out the window and only hangs on with one leg anchored inside. The glass was most likely smashed by said table. This could point to a possible explosion that resulted after a failed experiment, favouring science as its cause. Though again, I have seen you set off an explosion to create an art piece of yours so it is not concrete proof either.” Remus nodded along to his descriptions and a spotlight also shone on the areas he talked about.

“Now for my first question, I would like you to confirm whether the dark red substance in that corner is blood or not.”

“It’s not, though I tried my best to get it to smell the same.” Logan nodded, again falling silent for a moment to think. The quiet was broken by a croak and something moved though it was hidden enough that Logan couldn’t quite make it out.

“You used live specimen. Not unheard off for your art but more common with experiments. Especially frogs.”

“Toads, not frogs actually.”

“I can tell apart a frog croaking and toad doing the same, Remus. That sound was a frog.”

“Nah, you see, I like how toads look better but frogs sound more appealing, so I made a toad that croaked like a frog.”

“Fascinating. Could you show it to me later?”

“Sure! Also that counts as your second questions.” Logan glared at his boyfriend for a moment but relented.

“Fine.” He continued to point out other details about the room and whether they pointed towards art or science and soon Remus announced that he had only 30 seconds left. Logan contemplated in his head and came to a decision at the same moment Remus called:

“Time! Five minutes are up, Ladies and Gentlemen! Now Logan, give us your answer, please!” The room had darkened once again, with a spotlight on Logan and Remus and two others moving around the room.

“I say it’s art.”

“Is that your final answer?”

“Yes, Remus, please do not drag this out any longer.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand around before getting back into character. “His answer is locked in! Now let’s see if he’s right. Is it art?” A drumroll played and then a bang. Even more confetti poured out of the ceiling, along with balloons, the normal, oval ones and those long ones with two of the former tied to one of the latter (I’m sure you can guess what that symbolises, we’re talking about Remus here after all).

“Coooooooorrrreeeeccccctttt!” Applause roared and Remus threw an arm around his boyfriend, pulling him close. “Another win for our returning champion! With this his success rate is now at 75%! How are you feeling, are you proud?” He held out the mic to Logan, who rolled his eyes.

“I am alright, now please wrap this up.” Remus giggled but complied.

“That was it for this episode of-“

“Art or Science!”

“See you next time, folks!” And with another snap, things returned to normal, the lights, the sounds and Remus’ outfit. “Wasn’t that fun, starlight?”

“It was fine, Remus.”

“You just don’t like admitting it~”

“No matter, that is not what I came up here for anyway.”

“Oh yeah, why did you come here?”

“To ask if you have eaten since breakfast.”

“Oh, rotten shit, I forgot.”

“I thought as much. Come on, I secured you some leftovers from lunch and the rest of the hot sauce.”

“You are the best, moonlight.”

#namiswriting #my writing #intrulogicalweek2021 #day 2: art/science #intrulogical #ts logan #logan sanders #ts remus #remus sanders #fluff #gameshow #remus is the king of chaos #logan is a bit done #just a bit though #he can't deny his boyfriend some fun #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #reblogs and kudos are appreciated!

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realm-sweet-realm · 4 years ago

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Prison Cell, chapter 2

This is a story taking place in an AU where the studio became the sketch dimension before most of the sacrifices were made. While this AU will have an emphasis on horror, especially in the later chapters, I also want to show the resilience of some of these characters.

---

"Can I be the one to go down there?" Susie asked.

"No," Abby answered firmly. "First we need to decide what we're going down there for. And I'm sorry, but I don't think it's going to be a rescue mission. I don't trust you not to turn it into one. Beyond that, though, whoever it is, it has to be someone at least somewhat nondescript. So, not you- you're pretty well-known, and your size alone is pretty distinctive. And not me, either- there are no other black women in this studio, so there definitely aren't any who are loyalists. And not Henry- he's a wanted man. Any volunteers?"

In the end, Jack was chosen for the first mission. He was fairly forgettable in appearance, and the one of the two people down there who knew him well wouldn't be one to call him out. Of course, the other was Joey Drew, but he was nonetheless the best candidate.

After Jack had been assigned, there was a brief discussion about where to hide Henry, they found someone to replace Norman as the projectionist, and a circuit of people were chosen to keep watch of the elevator at night so that no one would be attacked.

---

The next day, Jack put on the loyalist robes, traded his hat for a mask, and headed down in the elevator. The first lower floor that the elevator stopped at was at the old breakroom. Two men were there, playing pool in uniforms but no masks. It was strange how normal it looked. Jack figured that the masks must have only been for specific uses, including any visits to the upper floors. Hopefully he didn't stick out like a sore thumb.

"Hey," he said to them, trying to disguise his voice somewhat, "I have to check on the prisoners. I'm covering for a buddy. But he forgot to tell me where they are. Can you help me?"

One of the men gave him a funny look. There were a thousand things that could have given him away. Maybe all loyalists already knew where the prisoners were kept. "Floor 3B. Take two lefts. You can't miss it."

Jack thanked them and left.

Floor 3B was the second-to-last one, and it opened in a nondescript hallway. Once he’d followed the directions, he got to what looked like an unremarkable row of office doors. They looked like that, but Jack could hear someone crying within them, and could smell human waste. This was, undeniably, the place. Jack tried a few doors and found them to be locked. So, after checking to make sure that there was no one else nearby, he tried talking to the people within them. There were six prisoners in total. One of them was Emma LaMonte. Four of them had been a part of a small insurrection early on. Their stories broke Jack’s heart. One of them, Lacie, had been left with a broken leg that they had done nothing to treat. It had set incorrectly and was now a permeant cause of pain and poor mobility. Another of them, Shawn, had been fed ink. The final prisoner was also a surprise.

“Allison? I thought you were a loyalist.”

“I was, but I wasn’t very good at following the rules. Tom caught me breaking a pretty big one. He doesn’t want me to end up dead. So, he dragged me in here, and told the others that I’d done something less severe. Something that would get me locked up a long time, but not killed. I get treated better than the other prisoners, and Tom comes to visit me and take me around most nights like I’m a free person, but he still doesn’t trust me not to get myself killed. I know it’s only temporary, though.”

“Temporary?”

“Well, Tom says that Joey is working on a way out for all of us. I hope that’s true. But I’ve been in the dark pretty much since the beginning.”

Jack nodded. “I’m real sorry this has happened to you. Can I ask what you were doing? Oh- and do you know where there might be more prisoners?”

“I don’t know about other prisoners. But as for what I was doing- I was visiting the outside without permission. I actually did it several times before I got caught. If you want to do it, the portal is on floor 2B.”

“Okay. Thanks again,” Jack said before leaving.

The portal was not hard to find. A door like any other on floor 2B was in fact marked with the word, “portal.” Someone had left their keys in the door. Jack pocketed the keys and went in.

The inside of the room had, in addition to many typical janitorial supplies, a rack of small vials of dark, nearly-black liquid, a set of post-it notes, and a set of instructions. The instructions read,

Step 1: write where you want to go on a note and stick it to a door.

Step 2: pour a vial of blood at the base of the door.

Curious as to how specific one had to be and how far the door’s powers extended, Jack wrote “China” on a note and poured out a vial. He opened the door, and on the other side was wilderness. Perhaps this was the very center of China. After being stunned for a moment at being able to see greenery and smell fresh air for the first time in months, Jack realized that, since the portal worked, there was a much better way he could be using it. Giddy, he wrote down his old address and repeated the ritual. The door opened to a closet in his own house. He could hear his dog barking and the voice of one of his kids, and for a moment he considered abandoning the studio and everyone in it.

Then the door shut, and opened again. Jack was roughly pulled through it, back into the supply closet.

“What were you doing!?” a woman yelled at him. Then, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Okay, give me back my keys and don’t tell anyone I forgot them, and I won’t tell anyone that you snuck a trip through the portal. Got it?” she was clearly just as frightened as he was.

“I won’t tell anyone. But could you please just let me have this? Just for ten minutes. Please?”

The woman appeared to mull this over. “Sure. But seriously- you can’t go through there dressed like that. Here, I’ll hold your mask...” the woman reached for his mask.

Jack backed up against the wall. “Actually, I changed my mind. But don’t worry, I still won’t tell anyone.”

“Wait... you seem familiar...”

Jack opened the door and scrambled to the elevator, not looking back to see if she followed.

---

“Okay, so the good news is that we know that the insurrectionists are alive,” Abby began after Jack had returned back and composed himself enough to report his findings. “And now we know about the portal. That’s very interesting. The bad news is that the prisoners are being kept in awful conditions, and they’re probably going to suspect anyone who’s wearing the mask in public places from now on. I guess the best thing to do is use someone who looks specifically like someone from down there. So, try to remember how the people down there looked. And thank you, Jack. That was very brave of you.”

Jack nodded and left Abby to her work. Planning an insurrection was difficult, and especially so on top of directing the art department. Shortly after Jack left, there was a knock on her door. It was Susie.

“Susie! Hi! did you get that list I asked for?”

Susie smiled. “Yep. Went to every department. There’s a good dozen or so people who are ready to hit the demon with an ax!”

Abby smiled back. Susie had been a big help to her. “Great! I’ll assign them floors.” hopefully the gambit would pay off. Hopefully they weren’t just throwing good fighters away. The forced blood extraction might have been frightening and violating to the people who received it, of whom there were more than a couple, but who knew when the insurrectionists might need their best fighters? If the demon just dragged them away anyhow, then this wasn’t the best use for them. Of course, being a leader in these times meant making a thousand decisions like that with limited information and hoping that things turned out for the better.

---

Days wore on. The guard system on the elevators had lasted all of a single night. The demon, finding a guard on each floor, had taken to eviscerating one of them. By the time the other guards arrived, the demon was standing over a corpse that appeared nearly inside-out. The demon scurried back to the elevator, and left before anything could be done to him.

The missions went poorly as well. Security had increased after Jack had nearly been found out. While the insurrectionists had managed to map out the lower floors (save for the very basement, which was sealed off), and found out that a great many of the loyalists were sick of a mysterious disease that caused blackened, shiny skin, they were unable to steal keys, free the prisoners, or access the portal again. After two weeks of no progress and three deaths, two of which had been killed after having been found out, Abby called the rebellion off. She felt it was what was best for everyone’s welfare, and since the loyalists had banned wearing masks on the lower floors, going undercover had become immensely more dangerous..

Susie continued to bring people together for meetings. She was not organized and dominant as Abby had been, and her meetings tended to be chaotic. The people were angry and had been emboldened. One night, a man stole a uniform and snuck down to the lowest levels. He killed a man with a knife and injured another before being imprisoned. The next day, Sammy came to the music department and escorted Susie to the basement.

"Where are you taking me?” Susie asked as Sammy clicked the elevator button to bring her to the lower floors.

“Don’t worry. No harm is going to come to you yet. This is something that Joey Drew is explicitly allowing. He knows that he needs to stop this rebellion, so he’s going to use sticks and carrots. And, well, this is the carrot.” Sammy’s face was unreadable.

They went into the room labelled “portal.”

“The first thing that I’ve been asked to do is tell you why all of this is necessary. Susie, your blood can open the portals to the outside. There were only six people in the entire studio with the right blood properties to do that, and your rebellion killed one of them last night.”

Susie nodded. “What I’ve never understood is why you don’t just let everyone out. I mean, you have a portal.”

Sammy took off his shirt, revealing a black growth that had spread across his chest, stomach, and shoulders. “If I spend more than a day or two out there, I will get sick and die. The same is true of everyone who was in the room when the ink machine exploded. Some of us are too deformed to even be allowed through the portal anymore. Joey is looking for a way to cure us so that everyone can be free. And until then, he needs your blood.”

“That doesn’t explain why he’s keeping everyone else.”

Sammy cringed. “That’s probably his own selfishness- wanting to maintain his studio the best he can. He’s not exactly as sane as he used to be. But... you’ll find out about that soon enough. For now, Susie, I’m supposed to give you your carrot. We have some money to spend, and I’ve been given permission to take you anywhere in the world you want for the day and send you back with an offering of gifts.”

Susie thought on this. “What if I told you that I wanted my gift to be Norman?”

“You’ll find out about him tonight. He’s a part of the bargaining.”

Susie’s face lit up. “Okay, wonderful!”

The two of them spent a day in Paris together. Afterwards, Sammy sent her back with two first-aid kits. One of them was fully stocked and then some, as it contained much of the contents that had been in the other one. The other they had emptied. Anything from it they couldn’t pack into the first box had been abandoned on the street, and they had filled the box with knives.

“Please promise me that you won’t use these unless absolutely necessary. Joey doesn’t want it to come to war, but if it does, there is a lot he could use against you. The loyalists could poison you with ink, or they could refuse you access to any resources and starve you into compliance. And thankfully, we don’t have guns, but if things ever escalated, we could get them, and you couldn’t. So, please, for own safety, only use these for self-defense.”

“I won’t let anyone know about these. But I'm not sure I can control them. Angry people that feel like they have nothing to lose are... really hard to lead.”

Sammy went quiet.

“Something wrong, Sammy?”

“Well, I told you that we were planning on using sticks and carrots, right? Well, Joey- if I can still call that thing “Joey”- is about to give you your stick. He wants to crush the rebellion with shock and awe. And I’m scared that he’s just going to make everyone angrier.”

Susie didn’t know what to say to that. “It’ll be okay, Sammy.”

“I sure hope so,” he replied, starting to cry.

Finding the portal again was easy- it was right where it had been at the beginning of the day, in some supply closet in some department store. A loyalist checked over what Susie had brought back, but Sammy had made sure that the person to do so would be another sympathizer, so they were let go. They stepped onto the elevator again. “Alright. Time for the stick. I’m supposed to deliver you to the very basement. I’m sorry.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #susie campbell #sammy lawrence #abby lambert #Jack Fain #Story: prison cell #my fanfiction

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allsassnoclass · 4 years ago

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meg sent me the prompt lashton+”It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard this morning” before tumblr ate her blog and therefore her ask but @tastetheoceans this is for you

set in the Off-Screen verse

Luke wakes up disoriented, shivering just a little and blindly reaching out for the covers, certain that when he fell asleep he was warm and content. His hand seeks Ashton, and it takes him a moment to realize that the disappointment from not finding him is not a remnant of a dream, but rather a result of him not actually being here when he should. Ashton is home, and for some criminal reason he is not in bed with Luke during their first morning together since the semester started.

The spot next to him is still warm when Luke runs a hand over it, and he takes another moment to blink himself awake before he even attempts to detangle himself from the sheets, memories of yesterday finally slotting into place in his head the further he pulls himself out of sleep.

Ashton made the entire 11 hour drive yesterday, getting in after dinner because he had to pack his car with as many art supplies as possible first. He originally was supposed to fly, but you can't take as much luggage with you via plane, and Ashton wants to be prepared. He'll be teaching from home for two weeks after break ends, but it's already highly suspected that they'll be here longer. Other schools around the country have switched to fully online learning, and Ashton thinks his will be following suit.

Luke should feel a little upset about it, because Ashton loves seeing his students and teaching art remotely is hard when students might not have access to materials, but he can't bring himself to. This event is scary and weird and throwing every plan out the window, but he's always been taught to look for silver linings, and getting to spend more time in person with his husband is the best silver lining he can imagine.

He's missed him. It's bad enough to have to be away from home whenever they tour, but Ashton is his home. He's away from him all the time, and it’s only during breaks like these that he stops feeling so lost.

Which is why he doesn't understand why Ashton isn't in bed next to him right now, giving him cuddles and some kisses and just basking in each other's presence.

Luke finds a sweatshirt, one of Ashton's that was left here when he went back to Utah, and tries to think of where in the house Ashton could possibly be. He doesn't hear anything in the bathroom, but the longer he stands still the more he thinks he might hear something faint coming from the kitchen. Ashton likes the kitchen, so Luke heads in that direction, noise beginning to take the shape of Ashton's voice, singing along to the radio.

There's nothing Luke likes better than Ashton's voice. He's heard so many amazing singers over the years, but nothing can match the gravel of Ashton's untrained vocals filling their house in the early morning, when the world is sleepy enough that it feels like a secret just for them. Luke has to stop right before he enters the kitchen to compose himself, because Ashton will tease him if he tears up over something like this, as if Ashton himself didn't nearly cry with relief after getting in yesterday.

Ashton stands at the stove, dancing a little as he prepares an omelette with Tom Petty accompanying in the background. Luke takes a moment to drink in the sight: his black hair, a little longer than when they last saw each other, the dimples in his back, the tattoos on his arms, the slight love handles curving over the edge of his sweatpants. Luke is in love with every inch of him.

He knows that some people were nervous when they got married, worried that it was too early or they were too young or that the distance would be too much. Logically, he understands the concern, but there was never any cause for it. Luke may have taken a while to realize it, but it's always been Ashton for him, and it always will be. He has too much love for this man to let anything happen to them.

"Hey," he says finally, stepping into the kitchen and approaching. Ashton turns and beams, a smile that Luke has seen a million times through a pixilated phone screen but that still makes him feel incredibly fuzzy in person. It's infectious, and Luke savors it.

He has three weeks of that smile, perhaps more. Maybe his heart will stop going crazy at the sight of it, but that's not likely.

"Hi," Ashton says, opening his arms for Luke to sink into. He's warm, Luke's own personal heater, and no one's arms feel as good around him as Ashton's. They always fit together perfectly, no matter how long it's been or how many changes might've happened since they last saw each other.

"How did you sleep?" Ashton asks.

"Good," Luke sighs. "I always sleep better with you there. 'S probably what woke me up."

"Not my singing?"

"No," Luke mumbles against his shoulder. "Couldn't hear it until I got down here, but it's nice that your voice was the first thing I heard this morning."

Ashton kisses his hair, gently swaying with the music in a subconscious dance. Luke follows him easily, pliant against him. He'll always follow where Ashton leads.

"Why aren't we in bed?" he asks.

"I wanted to make you breakfast," Ashton says, low like a confession. "I was going to bring it to you."

"It's your break," Luke says. "You shouldn't be doing anything."

Ashton is going to spend a good chunk of this break figuring out how to adapt his two painting classes for online teaching for the next few weeks, but other than that he deserves to rest.

"I always like to do things for you," Ashton says. "It makes me feel good to make you feel good."

Luke can feel himself blushing, and it's too early for him to come up with the proper words for a response, so he kisses Ashton instead.

They both have morning breath. It's a little gross, and the eggs might be burning, but nothing feels more right than kissing Ashton here in the their kitchen, early morning light streaming through the window and arms wrapped around each other. He savors the feeling, relishing in the comfort of it and the gentle way they move against each other. He could stand here for hours, and it occurs to him that they could. They both have time. Whether they stay here kissing in the kitchen or retreat to the bedroom for breakfast, this morning is theirs, and Luke is incredibly thankful to spend it with the man he loves.

It’s one of the best mornings Luke has had in a long time.

#my writing #lashton #drabble #off-screen #off screen

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readyplayerhobi · 5 years ago

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Flower | 04

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, light angst, insinuated smut

; Word Count: 3.3k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This week...you get two chapters! The usual Sunday chapter will also occur, but I didn’t want to leave you waiting for the second half of their date too long! So...consider this my Black Friday deal I guess? Let me know what you think, I love reading you love your this <3

; Flower Masterpost

Inhaling deeply, you let your cheeks puff out as you slowly let out the breath that you’re trying to use to calm yourself down. Tonight is officially the night, the date. Or whatever he wanted to call it. And here you were, in the outfit in your best friends had picked, waiting for one Jung Hoseok to appear.

You’d been terrified all day that he wouldn’t actually turn up. That he’d ghost you, and you’d have to fight the tears as you called Soyeon and Chungha to tell them that the emergency supplies were in fact necessary. Even though Hoseok had messaged you again this afternoon, reminding you of your date.

As if you were somehow going to forget a scheduled date with him!

But you were here, at the appointed time outside of the large modern art statue in the centre of the city. It was a common spot for people to meet up as it allowed for quick and easy access to most places within walking distance so you weren’t surprised that he’d picked here. Plus, it was in public and you appreciate all the people who were around.

Pulling your phone out of your bag, you turn the screen on and check the time once more, frowning slightly when you see that he’s two minutes late. It might not seem a lot, but you always got a little antsy and worried when people were late. You usually turned up fifteen minutes early and then just waited around.

Better to be early rather than late.

“Y/N?” The deep voice comes from your left, causing you to squeak in surprise as you jump, whirling around almost comically to face one Jung Hoseok. Who looks even more handsome than his photos make out, which is just plain wrong. That should not be allowed. You were probably a colossal disappointment in comparison.

He was dressed equally casual to you, black skinny jeans with rips clinging to his legs and ending in leather military style boots while a plain white shirt adorned his chest beneath a black leather jacket and thick silver chains around his neck. You couldn’t help but take a small step back, looking over his visage with wide eyes as your mind accepted the fact that people like him really did exist in real life.

His hair was styled for once, swept off his forehead in a look that had obviously been done on purpose and yet looked completely effortless while the nearby lights from a shop front shone off the silver ring in his lower lip.

“We match.” You say dumbly, pointing at his clothes before cringing at how dumb you sound. It throws him for a moment, dark brows rising on his statuesque face before his eyes run over your body before looking down at his own. And then he smiles, and you swear your knees go a little weak.

Because if Jung Hoseok is handsome normally, then he’s out of this world when he smiles. It positively lights up his face and his eyes almost gleam with happiness as he lets out a raspy laugh.

“So we do. You look very beautiful. Your makeup is amazing!” Hoseok exclaimed, eyes widening as he leans a little closer to take in the carefully placed makeup that you’d spent half an hour putting on. It’s nothing hugely special, a little bit of a smokey eye with black eyeliner and a shimmer of rose glitter on the lids of yours with a touch of silver glitter liquid eyeliner. You’d wanted to match your outfit and put in a little bit of an effort, but not make it look like you were ready to walk a red carpet.

Still, your stomach swirled with a combination of happiness at his compliment and nerves at the overall meeting. The teenage part that still lived in you wanted to scream and jump at the fact he’d called you beautiful. Hands clutching at nothing once you put your phone away, you glance at him from beneath your mascara covered eyelashes and smile shyly.

“Thanks. You look good too.” The words are almost mumbled out and you grimace at yourself, nose wrinkling as you wrack your brain for what you’re supposed to say to him now. You never had any idea how these kinds of conversations were meant to go and you made a slightly odd noise before gesturing lamely.

“So...what do you, I mean...what are we doing for our date-I mean...hang out? Or whatever this is.” Idly, you eye the fountain ahead of you and wonder how quickly he might leave if you just jumped into it and refused to come out. Because the awkwardness was building and you felt jumpy with the nerves and anxiety, desperate to give him a good impression but so unaware of how to do that.

He doesn’t laugh at you thought, just gives you a gentle smile before gesturing down one of the streets. You start to move automatically, the ghost of pressure from his hand on your back sending tingles around your body and you look up at him through wide eyes, noting how beautiful his side profile is.

Your side profile probably didn’t look that pretty.

“Well...I guessed that you might be a little nervous about tonight given how quickly you tried to back out of talking to me...so I thought we could do something that means we have to work together and talk, without actually having to talk about anything serious. So...I booked us an escape room and then we could have dinner after?” He sounds so carefree about it and you pause for a moment before gasping in delight.

“Oh my god! I’ve always wanted to do an escape room! Is it themed? I saw there was a Harry Potter one somewhere and that would be so cool! I don’t really know how they work and I’ve always been a little afraid to do them in case I’m too stupid to figure them out.” You don’t realise your babbling till you catch sight of his grin once more, body heating in embarrassment as you duck your head and apologise.

Immediately though he’s soothing your fears, giving you little cooing noises and an overly dramatic expression that has you snorting out a laugh. “Hey, don’t do that! It’s cute, I’m glad you’re excited. That’s what I wanted. I wanted to try and find a way to make you a bit more comfortable. I know how nerve wracking first dates are and I’ve been pretty nervous too.”

You look at him then, a look of pure disbelief written all over your face so plainly that he lets out a bark of laughter, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he points at you with the other. “Oh god, your face. I have! I’m not lying. I know I can look pretty intimidating but I’m just a guy and first dates are just as scary for me.”

“Mmm, I’m sure they are. Especially when you look like...this.” A brief movement of your hand gestures to his whole body and he looks down with a breathy laugh again, shaking his head before looking at you, tongue running along his lower lip.

“I get the feeling you’re pretty blunt and sarcastic. Am I right?” Immediately you look away, shoulders hunching as your hands grip your bag tightly.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to. I don’t mean to sound like that, it just comes out.” He’s shaking his head though, smiling to himself as he looks forwards and directs you down another street before pointing at the sign for the escape room.

“It’s okay. I like people who speak their mind. As long as I know that you’re joking if you say something mean…” You go to protest at that but it dies at the sign of mischief in his eyes, recognising that he’s coaxing you out of the shell he obviously knows you must have built so strongly around yourself. And your heart warmed in response, glad that he’s not immediately pushing you away and in fact encouraging you.

“We’ll see if you still think that after we’ve got out of the room...if we can get out.” Hoseok hums, tapping his finger against his lip ring before grinning brightly, opening the door to the business and giving a completely over the top and ridiculous ‘enter’ gesture that has him bowing comically. Even as silly as it looked, he still looked amazing yet you felt a little more at ease with how open and friendly he was being.

“After you my lady. I have full faith we will get out. How hard can these things be?”

“What the actual fuck was that. Seriously! We didn’t even get out of the first damn room, I didn’t even know they had more than one room!” Hoseok rants, his cheeks slightly red as his brow creases while he gesticulated wildly through his rant. You watch him, amused for a few moments before continuing to walk along with him.

Despite his bravado at the start, you had both actually done abysmal in the escape room. You’d quickly discovered that Hoseok had absolutely no idea what he was doing in there and you’d tried your hardest, only to discover that you’d been fixating on a strange looking picture which actually had absolutely nothing to do with anything.

The staff had been incredibly amused when they finally let you out after an hour, telling you both cheerfully that no one had ever not managed to get out of the first room before. At least you’d made an impression on them, and you’d probably be an amusing story for Hoseok’s friends too.

He certainly was going to be for Chungha and Soyeon.

It had been fun though, oddly fun to say you were making no progress. Hoseok was funny, the kind of guy who made you laugh without even realising he was trying as he’d talked to himself in confusion, brows knitted together before exclaiming in a loud and suddenly thick dialect. You’d ended up spending a lot of time giggling at him and surprisingly, you’d managed to find out more than you’d expected during that hour.

He’d talked about how his friends would love to come and do this but that he wasn’t sure if they’d do worse or better. Apparently, the thought that two called Yoongi and Seokjin would probably do well. They were both sales account managers at Seokjin’s father’s company while someone called Taehyung worked as a customer service rep at the same company.

He was apparently the blue haired guy in Hoseok’s profile picture on Facebook, while the pink guy was Jimin. He worked as a bartender at the usual place Hoseok and his friends drank at; a dive bar basically that was frequented by bands trying to start their career. Jungkook was in college, doing a postgrad degree in sports psychology and his final friend, Namjoon, was a lawyer.

The diversity of his friends bemused you, but he’d said that was because most of them he’d met in college. Jungkook was apparently one of Taehyung’s friends who’d slowly become integrated with Hoseok’s friend group once he’d gone to college whilst Namjoon was a childhood friend. You’d found it fascinating that he considered six people his close friends when you couldn’t imagine having more than two or three.

It was then that he’d queried your friends, asking if you had anyone who might like to come to an escape room. Chungha would have been happy to get involved but you knew that Soyeon didn’t like the idea of being locked in somewhere. She had claustrophobia and while it wasn’t bad enough to make her panic in an escape room, she wouldn’t be happy at not being able to escape.

Other than that, it had mostly been passing comments that had led to small discussions between the two of you as you both tried to figure out what you were doing. Which evidently hadn’t worked, given you hadn’t gotten out but it had relaxed you all the same. You’d almost felt comfortable around him by the end, the fact it was a date pushed out of your mind until you’d both finally walked out of the door.

And now you were faced with the dinner. On the one hand, you were eager because you were hungry but on the other hand, it meant that you had to finally talk one on one, without the interruption of something else. Hoseok doesn’t seem to notice your sudden quietness, his hands gesticulating as he continues to talk about your previous activity and you follow along.

You don’t know where he’s taking you, but you hope it’s somewhere nice and not too fancy. Somewhere that you’ll actually enjoy the food. He pauses suddenly, mouth open and letting you get a glimpse of the silver ball in the middle of his tongue and you feel warm at the sight, wiggling slightly as your best friends comments race through your head out of nowhere.

“Oh god, imagine getting oral from him. That tongue and piercing...oof...yes please.” Soyeon sighed, fanning her face and looking up to the ceiling as Chungha lets out a low whistle. The photo they’re looking at is one where Hoseok is sticking his tongue out fully, a festival scene behind him and his tongue piercing clearly on display.

Her comment makes your cheeks heat while you squirm slightly, embarrassed at what she said but even more embarrassed at the fact you too had thought of that already. There was no way in hell that you would admit to perhaps touching yourself to the thought of that tongue doing things to you.

“I bet he knows how to use it too. That man has the confidence of someone who’s brought many to orgasm. Girl, you are going to be so lucky if everything works out!” Chungha giggles, pushing at your shoulder while you whine softly to her. You could only hope that you wouldn’t end up hyper fixating on that piercing, because it had become one of your little group of friends favourite things about him.

Needless to say, that hadn’t worked and you let out the quietest breath as he ran that tongue over his teeth slowly, eyes focused away from you and completely unaware of just how ridiculous hot he was right now. It was just plain wrong, yet you can’t pull your eyes away from the straight lines of his jaw, nor the way the tendons in his neck strain just right as he looks down the street.

“Are you okay?” You croak out, coughing slightly to clear your throat and you hope he hasn’t noticed how husky your voice sounds. Thankfully though, he jerks in response to your voice and looks at you slightly dazed for a moment, dark eyes focusing again before he smiles lopsided.

“Yeah, sorry. I just...I don’t remember how to get to the restaurant I was thinking of. Do you like Indian food? There’s this really great place...that I know is here somewhere. I think we need to backtrack and then I can find it,” He pauses before giving a self-deprecating laugh. “Sorry, you’ve discovered flaw number one already. I am useless with directions. Don’t ever ask me to find somewhere. We’d end up in France. Don’t ask how, we just would.”

The laugh that leaves you is unexpected and loud, but you can’t help it and you see him grin in response out of the corner of your eye. He’s looking at you expectantly though, one brow raised as he reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair. Eyeing him for a moment, you nod your head and grasp desperately for the right words.

“That’s fine, I’m great with directions, luckily. I think I know where you mean, it should be back down the street and then to the right.” Pointing, his eyes follow your hand and he lets out a little ‘ah’ noise before smiling brightly.

“Great. Let’s go. I want to eat some good ass food. Mmmm, it’s been so long.” He moans out and you almost choke on your own spit at the sound, body feeling very warm at the overly sexual sound. The man just oozes sex appeal and it’s almost appalling how attractive you find it, but it also leaves you very flustered and unsure what to do.

So you just begin walking in the direction you’d pointed, staring down at the ground while your hands grasp at your bag and your shoulders rise up almost to your ears. A huff of laughter is behind you before the sound of shoes hitting the ground takes over, echoing over the quiet street and then he’s next to you again.

“Hey don’t leave me! How will I ever find it?” Hoseok pouts almost comically and you watch him for a few seconds before raising your brow.

“You’re a big boy. I’m sure you know how to use Google.” There’s a moment of silence and you wince, just about ready to tell him that you’re sorry and you didn’t mean to insult him. Because he was probably insulted, or offended. Or something at you. Either way, you could’ve been nicer.

But instead, he just lets out a loud laugh and shakes his head in amusement before looking you over with an expression that’s almost fond. “Point taken. Let’s go get some food. I want some naan bread.”

“Did you know that naan just means bread in Old Persian so technically you’re just asking for bread bread?” The words come out automatically, your natural instinct to just give a random fact and you don’t even realise it. It was something you’ve always liked to do, looking up information and absorbing it like a sponge. Your friends liked to joke that you were always prepared for a general knowledge quiz.

“Yeah? Why do we call it a naan bread then?” Hoseok asks cheerfully, interest laced in his voice and you shrug in response.

“For the same reason we say chai tea or Sahara desert. There’s also Lake Tahoe, because Tahoe apparently comes from a Native American word meaning, you guessed it...lake. Another favourite of mine is Table Mesa, which just means table table.” You carry on, remembering more examples as you continue and you laugh in amusement at yourself.

Hoseok chuckles as he walks alongside you, giving you a look that you don’t notice as you babble on about places that are also similarly named, letting you telling him more and more places while he just listens. Finally, you realise that you’ve been talking for too long and give him a chagrined look before apologising.

He just shakes his head and grins. “No...it’s okay. Oh...I know of one! The Los Angeles Angels! That just means The The Angels Angels. You’d think that we’d take into consideration the original language meaning sometimes wouldn’t you? Though I guess every language does it.”

The casual acceptance he gives you of the random tangent you’d just gone on warms something inside you and the fact he’s even actively got involved makes you smile ever so softly. Nodding at him, you note that you’ve finally arrived at the restaurant and duck your head down.

“Okay...let’s go...oh my god. I should tell Jungkook about that naan thing. He can just say ‘let’s get this naan!’” You frown in confusion but he just laughs in response, shaking his head and gently pushing you through the door. “I’ll explain inside. Come on, I want to eat!”

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pareidoliaonthemove · 4 years ago

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A Worthy Sacrifice

Notes:

This is what happens when I’m not careful about what shows I watch on the idiot box in close proximity. In this case, an episode of BBC’s excellent Horrible Histories, closely followed by Thunderbirds Are Go! Episode “Attack of the Reptiles”.

And, yes, the Roman Emperor Caligula was rather keen on people honouring their promises to the Gods, and did make people honour their promises to the Gods to exchange their lives for his after he recovered from a potentially deadly ‘brain fever’. I mean, technically, he wasn’t wrong … but sheesh!

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

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Gordon pulled frantically at the starter on the hoverboat’s engine, resolutely ignoring the noises coming from behind him.

“Come on! I’ll give up Celery Crunch Bars for a year if you’ll please just start!”

One final pull, as the Pentergasts cried out, and …

The engine caught.

“Yes!”

High above Tracy Island, aboard Thunderbird Five, John flicked off the holographic recording and paused, smiling.

“Give up Celery Crunch Bars for a year? You might just need a little help to honour that promise, Gordon. And I know who can help you with that.”

“Ugh,” Alan moaned pitifully, “I mean, who cares?”

“Who cares about what, Alan?” The voice made Alan jump, how all two-hundred-plus pounds of Virgil managed to sneak up on him in steel-cap boots, he would never understand.

“History,” Alan moaned. The wonky eyebrow raised at him. “Ancient Roman history,” Alan amended, still hoping for sympathy.

“A lot of the basic principles of engineering were set out by the Ancient Romans,” Virgil commented. Alan rolled his eyes. Trust Virgil find a way to relate to a bunch of dress-wearing guys dead for nearly two thousand years. He’d be lucky, if Virgil didn’t start on about their art, to boot.

The holographic projector built into the kitchen bench flared into life, the halo of light resolving into John’s torso floating serenely in mid-air. “Virgil, good, you’re here, too.”

“What’s up, John, is it an emergency? A space emergency!?”

“No, there’s no emergency. This is more a … social call.”

Both brothers paused, “John, is everything … okay?” Virgil asked cautiously.

“Everything is fine, Gordon and the Pendergasts have managed to escape the facility, and Scott is about to make an extraction. How’s your shoulder, Virgil?”

Virgil scowled, one hand automatically going to rub the shoulder that had been strained as he had tried to keep from falling into the sea from the severed evacuation tube the previous mission. He was saved from answering by Alan.

“John, you don’t do social anything,” Alan pointed out with his trademark lack of tact.

“What are you supposed to be studying, Alan?” John asked.

The younger boy deflated. “Ancient Roman politics,” he moaned, once more dejected.

“Have you already done the Emperor Caligula?” John asked.

“The crazy guy who had sex with his sisters, and made his horse a senator? Yeah.”

“Do you remember what happened when he was deathly ill with ‘brain fever’?”

Alan frowned, trying to remember. “Yeah … he was popular then, a lot of people, trying to suck up to him in case he survived offered their lives to the gods in exchange for his … And when he got better …”

Virgil broke in, worried, “John, where are you going with this?”

John smiled innocently, “You know that saying that those who do not remember the past are condemned the repeat it?”

“Yeeesss?”

“Well, this just happened.” John activated the recording of Gordon and the hoverboat.

Virgil and Alan watched in silence. John flicked off the image when it stopped. “Well, what do you think?”

Alan grinned. “I think Gordon’s condemned to repeat history!”

It had taken a lot of negotiation, but the care and housing of Buddy and Ellie the bearded dragons had finally been resolved.

A lot of negotiation, and not a little blackmail; “They’re a gift for their number one fan, in order to thank him for saving their lives. How upset do you think the Pendergasts would be if they found out you’d sold them?”

And so, as always in the face of a lack of brotherly sympathy, Gordon went to seek out the next best form of comfort: Celery Crunch Bars.

It was a little unusual that there none left in his stash in his rooms – Virgil had only just done the supply run not two weeks ago, but Grandma had been cooking a lot lately.

It was suspicious that there were none to be found in the gigantic industrial pantry – Gordon knew there had been an entire pallet there the other day.

And when his Celery Crunch Bars were not only missing from both Thunderbird Four and her spares warehouse, but replaced by the protein meal replacement bars that the other Thunderbirds stocked, it was a blatant act of sabotage against him. One worthy of the Hood.

So Gordon was distracted as he re-entered the comms-room, trying to figure out if it was feasible for the Hood to have regained access to Tracy Island, and not only sneak about Villa, but enter Thunderbird Four. Not that he was surprised that he would be most interested in the sub, after all, she was the most important vehicle of the International Rescue fleet, even if his brothers wouldn’t agree.

He was so distracted that he almost walked over Scott and Virgil. Not an unimpressive achievement, his oldest brother was ridiculously tall, and Virgil wasn’t exactly built for stealth, with all that muscle and steel-cap boots.

So Scott’s outraged, “Watch it, Gordon!” and hopping around clutching allegedly squashed toes, wasn’t met with the accustomed apologetic grovelling and ‘please-don’t-make-me-scrub-the-hangars-with-my-toothbrush’. Which naturally attracted the interest of the smother twins, along with demands for an explanation.

So Gordon explained, a lengthy and spirited explanation that attracted an ever growing audience. As Gordon started to elaborate his theories, the interruptions started.

“My uncle? Here? Absolutely not!” Kayo snapped.

“A-After the previous i-i-infiltrations, I upd-dated the security s-systems. T-There is n-no way the H-Hood got back on the I-Island,” Brains said with absolute finality.

“It’s not the Hood, Gordon,” Virgil said calmly.

And that derailed Gordon. Kayo and Brains denying his proofs, absolutely. They were both now so personally invested in the security of their home that they had initially not even listened to Scott and John’s increasingly less calm request/instructions to dial back the sensitivity of the sensors ringing their private waters, the two nets around the islands, and the Villa. It had taken Grandma in her full blaze of fury, something that none of them – not even their father – had ever defied, to get the sensitivity reset so that every ruffle of a leaf or wavelet braking on the shore didn’t set off an alarm.

But Virgil – Virgil who had spent a whole week scrubbing every inch of the Villa, and hangars, and had to be physically stopped from trying to sieve the sands to rid the island of the taint the Hood and his henchmen?

“How could you possibly know that, Virgil?” Gordon demanded, squaring up for argument.

Virgil rolled his eyes. It was a good effort, Gordon distractedly gave him a 7 out of 10; but Johnny was the master of eyerolls, closely followed by Scott. “John, Alan. This is on you. Explain, so we can all get back to our lives.”

In answer, a hologram popped up in the centre of the comms room. Gordon stood and watched himself desperately trying to start the recalcitrant hoverboat. Uncool, he looked so uncool – Wait! What?

“You’re kidding me!” he wailed. “You can’t expect me to go without Celery Crunch Bars for a whole year!”

Alan shrugged. “Think yourself lucky that’s all you offered to the Rescue Gods.”

Gordon stared. “The Rescue Gods?!”

John shrugged. “Why not? It’s something Dad used to say.”

Scott nodded, slowly, “Yeah, if we were planning an outing on the weekend, it would be in the hands of the weather gods; an unpowered landing was ultimately in the hands of the aviation gods …”

Virgil nodded. “And finding a good car park was ‘Thank you, parking gods!’”

Grandma smiled into the distance. “Wasn’t just your father, your Grandpa said it a lot, too. Probably where he got it from.” She quickly wiped at her eyes under her glasses.

Gordon frowned. “So what does this have to do with my Celery Crunch Bars?”

Alan raised his eyebrow at him – he had obviously been spending too much time around Virgil. “You made a promise, you would give up Celery Crunch Bars for a year if the hover boat started. And the hover boat started.”

“Therefore, the Rescue Gods heard you, deemed your sacrifice as worthy, and accepted it, causing the boat to start,” John chimed in. “It’s obvious, really.”

Kay and Brains drifted away, Max following, having lost interest once it was established that the Island was still secure.

Gordon’s eyes narrowed. “So what happened to all the Celery Crunch Bars?”

John shrugged. “As you are giving them up, and no one else here eats the disgusting things; they were donated to a charity dedicated to feeding homeless people.”

“Yeah,” Alan chimed in. “No point them going to waste.”

Gordon eyed Virgil, the traitor. “No points guessing how they got there, either.”

“I took them,” Scott said brightly. “Hardly counted as ‘heavy lifting’,” a smug sideways look at Virgil, “and I had a meeting nearby the location this morning, anyway.”

“Don’t even think of trying to order more, Gordon,” John warned. “Our suppliers, and the factory, have been instructed not to accept any orders for Celery Crunch Bars for the next 12 months.”

Gordon stared in horror; ‘pet’ lizards, and now no Celery Crunch bars? He would rather the Hood.

His family drifted off, back to their planned activities, interest lost now that Gordon had been stunned into silence.

A plaintive wail followed them. “What am I going to eat for a year?!”

“There’s always my fresh-baked cookies.” Grandma brandished a tray at him. “Go ahead, take two.”

#Thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #fanfiction #attack of the reptiles

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shy-violet-soul · 5 years ago

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The Itty-Bitty Babysitting Brigade

Title: The Itty-Bitty Babysitting Brigade Characters: Alpha! Bucky Barnes x Omega!F-Reader, Assorted Avengers Summary: A team of experts are ready to help Bucky with the twins. Warnings: fluffity fluffy fluff. A bad language word. Word count: approx. 2,400 A/N: This merry little band wouldn’t let me rest until I snuck a peak at how they do with the new pups! You don’t have to read part 1 & part 2, but you should.

A/N 2: a very big fluffy thank you to my 2 beta’s, @thesassywallflower and @pinknerdpanda. You ladies are super-fab - bless you for putting up with my text onslaughts!

This is a work of fiction based upon characters owned by the MCU. My work is not to be published elsewhere without my written permission.

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. Before you and the twins darkened the apartment doorway on your first day home as a family, he’d created pup care schedules, matrices, and plans that would put Nick Fury to shame. The failure of the infants to follow said schedules, matrices, and plans gave him chest pains.

“Bucky, my love, it’s okay. They were all warm and cozy where it was dark and quieter. Here, it’s noisy and cold and bright. I’m sure they’re a little scared because everything’s so different. Crying is the only way they have to talk to us.” Then, you did it again - hand over his heart, blinking your tired but happy eyes up at him. “They’re so lucky to have a strong, brave daddy to help them feel safe.”

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. After eight days of carefully crafted pup care plans being shot straight to hell, the soldier went back to his roots - guerilla warfare. Having spent decades perfecting the art of surveillance, he quickly learned the twins’ little tells that gave away possible maneuvers. Ruth Natalia, for instance, went back to sleep if she just rubbed her eyes with her fist. Rubbing her face into the blanket - imminent nap ceasefire. If Joseph Steven had the hiccups for longer than 3 minutes 18 seconds - prompt conflict escalation. Ever the tactician, Bucky quickly adopted the jarhead motto of ‘improvise, adapt, and overcome’ that allowed him to anticipate and quickly intervene. A swift pacifier tucked into Ruth’s mouth bought him an average 6 minutes extra peace time. Swaying Joey side to side tucked in his arm like a football was always a successful diversion. It’s when they joined forces in joint engagement that left him with palpitations and shortness of breath.

Watching you made it easier. Motherhood looked damn good on you. Even if you were covered in spit up and the clothes from two days ago. You showed him the best swaddle techniques, encouraged him to be unafraid while burping them (“they won’t break, Bucky”), and filled his phone with photos of him and the pups.

Even though Bucky grumbled that it had only been a few weeks, your willing daycare back-up Wanda had to get back to missions. The night before you were supposed to resume daycare duties, the babies engaged in full scale attrition warfare, including deployment of the famous Pincer movement.

Simply put, they ganged up on their mama and daddy.

Bucky’s heart broke when you sagged to the floor between their bouncy seats where they both shrieked like they were being tortured, and cried right along with them. You had nursed, and rocked, and walked, and bounced, and bathed, and sung, and nursed and swaddled and unwrapped and walked and vacuumed and nursed and nothing. Was. WORKING.

“I don’t - I don’t k-know what to d-do!” you sobbed as you held pacifiers to their mouths. Your red-rimmed eyes shone garishly, skin pinched and pale from pure exhaustion. Your nursing top hung raggedly off one shoulder, and your loose pants were stained from dinner two nights before. Both his omega and his pups were in need before him, an expert warrior and master assassin. He felt like he was gonna throw up.

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. And an Avenger, dammit! His alpha snarled and snapped with anxiety - protect! Soothe! Fix! Kneeling down behind you, he wrapped you up in his arms, being careful to avoid your painful breasts, and purred into your neck. You and both babies paused in the moment; you quaked like a leaf against him as the pups snuffled, his calming scent of rosemary and sandalwood pacifying them for a moment. He didn’t know what the hell to do, so he did what any rational person would do. He lied.

“I know what to do. You’re going to go take a shower, and lie down and sleep. The babies and I are going downstairs to be with the daycare pups.”

Your lack of protest said more than any words as you wiped your nose on your sleeve. “C-can I just lie down here?” you croaked out pitifully. Bucky wavered for an instant before putting just enough alpha in his voice to get you moving.

“No, doll, you’ll wake up all sore. Go shower, go sleep.”

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. The fact that he took enough equipment downstairs to satisfy a doomsday prepper wasn’t noteworthy in the slightest. The pups’ reactions, however, was. Parents were abandoned without a backward glance as they ran pell mell towards the occupied bouncy seat/swing contraptions.

“WAIT!” Heidi/Dimples the omega bellowed, freezing Chad/Lightning Bolt and Jeremy/Steve in their tracks. “Sanitize! Who knows what germs you’ve picked up out there!” she ordered, swiping the pump bottle and doling out globs while Bucky hurriedly took care of sign in. Bucky would later chuckle with you at the militant little omega refusing access to the babies until every pup had been liberally sanitized. The ooo’s and aaa’s, soft touches, and light distracted the babies as Bucky scrambled to get morning snack lined up. Then…

“Look at that! Baby Joey has the hiccups!” giggled Micah/Iron Hulk.

Shit.

“Mr. Barnes, sir? Ruthie keeps rubbing her face in her blankie,” Heidi advised.

Dammit.

Servings of apple juice globbed into sippy cups with no attention to equal servings as Bucky’s heart rate rose along with the volume of the twins’ fussing. When Ruth gave one piercing cry, Bucky ripped open two packs of graham crackers and dropped them on the table, ignoring the crumbling result as he sprinted back to the babies. Elaine/Warrior Princess had already figured out the Stark tech on the swings, but the smooth movements weren’t doing anything to mollify them. Joey joined in his sister’s cries, both little faces screwing up as they hollered. Seven pairs of pup eyes turned to look at Bucky expectantly.

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. The fact that he felt like vomiting was irrelevant.

“Hungry. Maybe they’re hungry,” he said more to himself as he stumbled to plug in the bottle warmer.

“Mmmm, I dunno. They don’t sound hungry,” Chad pondered, hands on his hips.

“How do you know? They’re still fresh out of the wrapper, they don’t know how to cry different.”

Chad scoffed at Elaine. “Because my mama is a baby-makin’ machine, that’s why! She says so all the time, and my dad’s sleeping on the couch till he gets some kinda appointment made. I got two little brothers and one little sister at home.”

Sera studied Ruthi seriously, bobbing along with the baby as she scrutinized. “He’s right, they’re not hungry. See? She’s just lonely.”

Bucky tried not to hyperventilate as he fished out two bottles of breast milk, bobbling one until he slammed it into the warmer. Distantly he saw the pups gather in closer to the babies, heard the murmur of certainty in the ‘ooooh, I see!’ that chattered through the room. While mashing buttons, he chanced a look over his shoulder when Micah declared,

“I know what to do!” But a mechanical beep of annoyance from the warmer took his attention and sent his pulse hammering in rhythm with the babies’ cries. Failure loomed over him like a towering tidal wave, his throat sticky with stress and hyperventilation. As his vision started to turn white at the edges, Bucky didn’t notice the activity behind him: Micah explaining the plan, Elaine leading Jeremy and Sera to move the big blue chair, Natalie running to the art supplies, and Chad and Heidi leaning over the babies.

Little hands grabbing at his arms knocked Bucky off his pins, the second bottle clattering from his hand. He almost took the blue chair down with him when Elaine and Jeremy tugged him into it, wooden feet groaning an inch or two across the floor in protest. Sera tossed the blankets previously covering the twins across his legs. Natalie appeared at his right, wobbling on a step stool and brandishing a pair of rounded safety scissors while Chad and Heidi clutched the screaming babies against their bodies.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Barnes! This won’t hurt a bit!”

Bucky Barnes was a reasonable man. The fact that there are now ten holes ripped into the arms of the big blue chair is immaterial.

Before Bucky could even free up a brain cell to respond, Micah grabbed the left side of his tshirt and pulled it taut, and Natalie sliced a cut from nipple to nipple like she ninja’d her way through toddler tap dance class. Micah then yanked the gap wide, and Chad and Heidi plunked the babies against his bare chest.

“There!” Micah and Chad chimed out victoriously. Bucky didn’t know what ‘there’ was. Or where. He was thoroughly occupied with maneuvering the two squalling, still very tiny babies against him.

“Son of a bitch!” he ground out.

“MIS-ter Barnes! You can’t use bad language words!” Heidi clapped her hands over the closest baby’s ears, glaring ferociously at him. Deaf to her scolding, Bucky yelped when Ruth’s face slid into his armpit and Joey slipped head-first towards the side. Sighing with exasperation, Chad climbed up to the left arm and clapped his hands on Bucky’s face.

“Listen. Calm down. You’re giving off all your bad alpha smells and freakin’ ‘em out!”

“Deep breaths, Mr. Barnes!” The little pups started coaching the Avenger, breathing in and out exaggeratedly until he followed their lead. Gradually, he noticed the scent of gunsmoke choking the air, causing more than one wrinkled pup nose. He forced himself to relax, his left arm chinking slightly as the plates shifted.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered to himself. Elaine’s head bonked him on the chin as she tugged Joey back into place, the baby flopping like a bobblehead before she climbed down to sit on the floor.

“Nobody knows what to do with kids, Mr. Barnes.”

Finally manuevering Ruth into place, Bucky tried to pay attention. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yup. My mama tells us all the time. ‘What the hell am I gonna do with you?’” Elaine quoted solemnly.

Jeremy nodded in agreement. “My daddy says parenthood is the toughest hood he’s ever been in. But I don’t know about that ‘cuz I never see him wear a hood, he only wears a ball cap.”

Both babies now lay cautiously secured in his hold. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off them as they still fussed and grizzled unhappily.

“Now what?”

Chad joined the little band crisscrossed-applesauced in front of Bucky. “The two p’s.” The little guy nodded as if to tell him to get busy. Like he wasn’t speaking in a foreign language at all.

“Which two p’s?”

Rolling his eyes and sharing a chagrined look with Elaine, Chad answered, “purr and pat. Bust out that legit purr and pat ‘em on their little hineys.”

Bucky swallowed hard around the still-pounding pulse in his throat and tried to purr; the sound started croakily at best. But as his alpha settled into the calming action, Bucky felt his muscles relax a hair. His eyes closed as he let himself just be in the moment - the tip-tup dance of their heartbeats against his thrumming warm beneath them, the gentle herby lavender and spiced vanilla of their scents gradually lifting to thread with his rosemary and sandalwood. And gradually realized he nor the babies seemed about to immediately explode.

When he opened his eyes, he blinked at the bright grins waiting for him.

“Good job, Mr. Barnes!” Heidi crowed, clapping happily. Micah offered him a double thumbs up to go with Sera’s chef’s kiss, while the others offered him proud, smiling nods.

“Just need to figure out the pat, and you got this!” Chad encouraged. “They just needed that skin to skin time.”

Jeremy was nodding vehemently. “I helped my mom with that when she was conzausted.”

“What’s conzausted?” Natalie wanted to know.

“It’s when my mom gets really tired.”

“Oh. My dad must get conzausted, too. He says having all us kids is like having a blender with no lid.”

Sera perked up, eyes wide with an epiphany. “That must be why my mom cleans all the time!”

Bucky felt one of his calf muscles cramp up, and tried to relax a little more. Ruth and Joey dozed, happily nuzzling round cheeks and tiny noses into his warmth. Their sleepy little sounds tugged a half-smile onto his face. When Bucky stole his gaze to the daycare pups, Chad gave him a pleased head bob. Unbelievably relieved pride sent more calm into his belly, and Bucky let himself relax even more as the children’s candy-coated happy scents filled him. They whispered and murmured in hushed tones, eager to help with their newest friends and their Sergeant Alpha.

Suddenly, Steve came somersaulting shield first in the craft room window, glass shattering and scattering. Sam splintered open the front door to the tune of pups screaming - all nine of them as the babies were yanked from their nap. Weapons drawn, they both scrambled around the room.

“Bucky! I got your 911 text. Where’s the threat?”

Bucky’s omega is a reasonable woman. The fact that she nailed Sam with a baseball bat was blown entirely out of proportion. The other fact that she kicked Steve in the balls so hard he cried was not.

An hour later, the daycare pups were in the upstairs living quarters, happily munching on popcorn to go with an impromptu ‘Phineas and Ferb’ marathon. Nat and Clint had carted away the incapacitated Captain and Falcon while Tony’s bots worked on door and window replacement. Clint nearly required medical attention himself when he laughed so hard at the ‘conzausted’ Mrs. Barnes’ terrified omega rampage that he fell off the porch. Bucky had taken your scolding shamefacedly, although he truly had no memory of sending the text. Abject panic will do that to you.

As he cuddled the calmed and re-sleeping babies against his bare chest, his omega dozing beside him on the coach, and a pile of pups and pillows before him, Bucky knew he could do this.

He knew they could do this. Even without schedules, matrices, and schedules.

#shy vy writes #alpha!bucky #Alpha Bucky Barnes #alpha bucky x omega reader #a/b/o dynamics #marvel fanfic #the itty bitty babysitting brigade

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need-a-fugue · 4 years ago

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We Grow Together (30)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tessa Sullivan (OFC)

Chapter Summary: There's an awful lot of hesitation going around as the team prepares to put Tessa in undercover. Can she convince them it will all work out?

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

“No. Absolutely not. No way in hell.” It’s not simple pacing, not this time. No, Tony is positively stalking around the room. “I’m sorry, how did we even get this far?” he questions, spinning on a heel to face the group before him.

“Well,” Natasha starts, “most of us got here through sheer will and tenacity.”

Steve dramatically rolls his eyes. “You were out of the country. We didn’t think you needed to know all of the details.”

“Great,” he says, throwing his hands up in the air. “So glad to be part of the team.” He turns to Tessa and levels her with a stern stare. “I expected better from you.”

She frowns. “Why?”

“Why? Because you… you’re supposed to be smarter than… than them!”

She walks over to him and takes hold of his shoulders. “Tony, I know you hate feeling out of the loop. That’s why we’re telling you about this now. But you have to understand, we’re not asking for your permission.”

“We?” he intones bitterly. “When exactly did you all become a we?”

“Haven’t you been trying to get me to be part of the team for… forever?” she asks, voice rising an octave in irritation. “Well, I’m here. I’m part of the team.”

“You always were part of the team,” Steve says, stepping forward. “And we may not be asking for permission, but the point of this debrief is to get everyone’s opinion on where to take this next. Because we are a team.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “That was inspiring,” he mutters sarcastically. “Now should we vote?”

“Not if your vote is to drop it,” Tessa tells him.

“My vote is for you to stay out of it.”

“I second that,” Tony says, raising his hand high.

“This whole thing only works if Tessa’s involved,” Natasha says from her perch on the arm of the couch.

“No,” Tony drones. “No.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and blinks hard before going on. “If this guy is really doing what your ex… lover says he is, if he’s actually dicking around with highly regulated gene research, then we just need to turn him over to the proper authorities. Those being, not us.”

“So they can tell us there’s not enough evidence to launch an investigation?” Steve questions. “And in the meantime, he gets that much closer to developing some kind of super human.”

“And marketing it,” Clint supplies.

“And he’ll do it by torturing and killing mutants,” Tessa says soberly.

“And,” Tony says, “I don’t want him to do any of that, obviously. But that doesn’t make this our problem.”

Steve’s face turns livid. “Oh come on, Tony! If we don’t do something about this, there’s a damn good chance no one will. And you know that!”

“So let’s just throw our mutant teammate into the fray,” he counters angrily. “Let’s just send her over to the guy who’s looking for mutants to experiment on. Yeah, that sounds like a great plan!”

“It’s a terrible plan,” Bucky mumbles under his breath.

“Do you have a better one?” Steve asks.

“No!” Tony exclaims. “That’s why I said we should drop it!”

“All we need her for is access,” Steve tries, calming his tone as he explains. “Lobe already invited her out to their temporary facilities. If we can just find out where they are and get Tess in, then she can plant the bugs and…”

“Then what?” Bucky asks suddenly. “Then she’ll be done? You think she’ll step aside after that?” He turns his gaze to Tessa, who shakes her head in response to his inquiry. “That’s what I thought.”

“She’ll do what I tell her to do,” Steve says, voice dripping with authority.

They all turn to look expectantly at Tessa, and to her credit, she doesn’t argue. Instead she gives a curt nod and an – albeit sarcastic sounding – “Yes, sir.”

Tony sighs, long and loud. “I think you’re all being idiots.” He turns to Tessa, “You most of all.” She glares at him, but says nothing. He ambles over to her, gets within inches of her face and whispers, “Doing this won’t change anything. You think you’re helping mutants, but you’ll never be able to help the ones you lost.”

She turns on him and spits out, “I know that.” Then, after a deep breath, “That’s not what this is about.”

“Sure,” he says, backing away. “Well… you have my opinion,” he tells the team as he moves toward the door. “I’ll be in Vienna for a few days. Try not to get anyone killed while I’m gone.”

A stillness settles over the room, the remaining Avengers sitting in silence, waiting to see who’s willing to offer up the next opinion. Bruce had been working on a special project in Antwerp for a few weeks now, so he was wholly unaware of the op. That seemed like a saving grace to Steve and Tessa, neither of whom wanted to have to defend their plans to the eternal cynic. Sam had already made a point of saying that he was in – but of course he was, where Steve led, the Falcon followed. Natasha was on board, always ready to break the monotony of a day up with some missions.

Steve was surprisingly adamant about doing this. It wasn’t always 100% clear whether he was so opposed to the thought of additional super soldiers because of the harm they could cause to the word, or because of the harm they could cause to his reputation. Some people thought that he wanted to be the only one. At least, that was a theory that Bucky had proposed once after he and Steve got into it following a sparring match that landed the Captain flat on his back without an ounce of breath left in his lungs. You’re just pissed off because you’re not the strongest, fastest guy here anymore, he’d told him, leaving the fuming soldier to pout.

Whatever the reason, Tessa was just happy he was on her side.

And maybe Tony was right. Maybe this was about something more for her. Maybe it was a sort of atonement for past ills. For abandoning her family. For abandoning herself. Maybe, but none of that would change the fact that this was the right thing to do.

The only ones in the room who had not yet spoken were Wanda, Clint and Vision. And being as Clint just cannot handle an awkward silence, he’s the first to break. “Tony might be right,” he says simply, head ducked.

Natasha scoffs. “Traitor.”

“She’s not exactly experienced in the art of espionage,” he intones, waving his hand to indicate Tessa.

Natasha unfolds her arms from across her body and stares him down. “Did we not just discuss how little we actually know about her? And she loves us. I think,” she says, giving Tessa a side-eye glance. “If she can keep so much of her life hidden from us, keep her secrets that close to the vest for years, I think she can handle spending a few hours as a disgruntled geneticist looking for a job.”

“I’m just saying, she doesn’t have the training to be put into the field. It’s not that I don’t have faith in her… but she’s unproven.”

“So she’s new to undercover work. She’s been hiding the fact that she’s a mutant for how long now?”

“Well, she clearly didn’t hide it from Cal.”

“Can you please stop talking about me like I’m not standing two feet away from you?” Tessa murmurs. “It’s a little unsettling.”

“I think she’s ready,” Natasha says simply.

Clint pulls in a long, deep breath, clearly not convinced. “What about you two?” he asks, jutting his chin out at Wanda and Vision. “What say you?”

“Oh,” Vision starts, moving to the center of the room. “I think that Dr. Sullivan is quite capable. And lest we forget, she did have a life of, well, if not espionage per se, at least subterfuge, for some time before coming here.”

Tessa frowns. “Sometimes I forget that all of my files were downloaded into your brain.”

“Yes, of course,” he responds. “It can be easy to forget. But I assure you, I do know of your past achievements as an advocate and, well, for lack of a better word, superhero.”

She raises her eyebrows. “See that? I’m a superhero.”

Clint lets out a conceited psh. “You’re a science nerd with a neat talent.”

“I could end you,” she only half teases.

“Maybe,” he replies. “But could you do it without using your talent? Because if you end up using your powers with these guys, they’re libel to lock you up and turn you into a mutant guinea pig.”

“I know,” she says in an exasperated tone. “I get it.”

“If I may,” Vision interrupts. “While I do feel that Dr. Sullivan could be successful on this mission, I’m not certain that I believe the mission itself will lead to much success.”

“Why do you say that?” Steve asks.

“Because the desire to be better, to be more, is only going to continue to grow. Especially now, in the wake of Ultron. I do not think that stopping this individual will be likely to stop this program. Or if it does, I imagine another will simply take its place.”

“Hail Hydra,” Bucky smarts from the corner.

“He’s right,” Wanda says shyly. “I knew better. But I still volunteered for Strucker’s experiments. I sacrificed everything. And I’m not at all certain that I wouldn’t do it again. To get what I wanted.”

“Revenge?” Steve questions with a raised brow. “Don’t you think that we should do what we can to keep people from enhancing themselves for reasons like that?”

“It wasn’t just revenge,” she defends. “It’s like Vis said, I wanted to be something more. I wanted to be able to protect myself. And Pietro.”

“And how did that work out?” She gives him a defeated look, a hint of anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m sorry, Wanda. I know you had your reasons. And maybe they were good reasons. But you did help set off what was almost the end of the world.”

“And then I helped save it. Who’s to say that someone else… someone who was enhanced… by this man or any other, wouldn’t do the same?”

“And if that someone else, who may one day save the world, got his powers by torturing innocent people? By ripping the powers from someone else’s body… would that be okay? Would that be worth it?” Tessa asks softly.

Wanda turns to her, an appalled look on her face. “No. No, of course not.”

She rises from the couch and claps her hands together in a gesture of finality. “Then it sounds like we’re all on the same page here.”

000

When she walks out of the bathroom after showering, 30 minutes worth of steam billowing out behind her, she’s honestly shocked to see Bucky in bed waiting for her. “You leave any hot water for the rest of New York?” he quips as she stills in the doorway.

She tosses the towel that she’d been using to dry her hair onto a chair in the corner and steps toward his side of the bed. “I thought you’d be out on the couch,” she says solemnly, butting her knees up against the mattress.

He sits upright and leans over to her, wraps his arms around her middle. “You think I’m so pissed, I’d sleep on the couch?”

She shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” It was rare, sure, but there had been a handful of times when Bucky abandoned the comfort of their bed – abandoned the comfort of her – for the old, beat-up sofa. When their arguments got particularly heated, or when he had a nightmare and didn’t trust himself to be around her, he’d grab his pillow and the throw from the end of the bed and venture out to the living room to feign sleep.

He looks her dead in the eye. “I’m not mad at you for wanting to do this. I understand.”

“You just don’t like it,” she says, leaning closer to him.

He raises his eyebrows and lets out a small huff. “I fucking hate it.” He drops his head to her middle, resting his temple near her hip. “But you and Steve… you’re the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. And you’re both hellbent on doing this.”

She smiles as she delicately threads her fingers through his hair. “So you’re gonna skip the fight that you know you’ll lose,” she says, a lilt to her voice.

“I never actually sleep when I’m on the couch anyway,” he mumbles into her. “And I’ve got to be awake for the mission tomorrow.” He shifts a bit and looks up at her. “I’ve got to have your back.”

She smiles softly and nudges him back into the bed before climbing atop him, straddling his lap. His hands snake up beneath the back of her T-shirt and he smirks as she shivers from the cold of his metal fingers. “You’ve always got my back.”

“I do,” he agrees.

“Even when you really don’t want to.” He pulls her closer, wrapping his arms around her fully, and he nestles into her bosom. She reaches her hand into his hair, tangling her fingers in once more. “I’m sorry to make you worry.” He nods into her, but says nothing. She lays her head atop his. “I’m nervous too.”

They sit like that for several long moments, holding each other. Him squeezing her so tight, holding her so close, that she honestly feels like the most precious thing in his world. And her, gripping his hair, keeping his head safely nestled right next to her heart, reassuring him that no matter what tomorrow may bring, for tonight, she’s right here with him. “I love you,” he mumbles as he kisses her collarbone.

“I love you too.” She shifts on top of him. “But I’m getting a cramp in my hamstring.” He relaxes his grip as he lets out a chuckle, and she slides off his lap and into the space next to him.

Turning towards her, he reaches down with his metal hand and pulls the comforter up over her. They both settle into the bed, her back pressed firmly up against his chest, his metal arm holding her close. “Better?” he asks, his breath hot on her ear.

She giggles from the sensation. “Yes.” She snuggles further under the covers. “It’s freezing in here.”

“Yeah, well, you were steaming up the whole apartment. I had to open a window.” It was springtime, finally, and the warm weather had been a welcome treat. But out of the blue, the temperatures plummeted early this morning, leaving them all in an unexpected cold snap. The thought of that possibly portending something more sends a sudden shiver down her spine. “Hang on,” he says, flinging the comforter off and striding across the room to close the window.

“Not all the way,” she tells him, rolling to her opposite side to face him.

“Your hair’s wet,” he says with a furrowed brow. “You’ll catch pneumonia.” And he shuts the window, draws the curtains, and climbs back into bed.

“That’s not really how pneumonia works,” she gripes, settling onto his chest as he lays propped up on the pillows. She snuggles closer, dampening his T-shirt with her hair and gripping it tightly with her fingers. “The cold could make you more susceptible, but it’s caused by either a virus or bacteria. Not wet hair.” She continues to fist his shirt as she speaks, twisting her fingers up in the material and then straining to pull them back out. He reaches over and grabs her hand, gets it to release its hold on his clothes. “Sorry,” she says simply as he intertwines his fingers with hers.

“Why do you do that?” he asks softly, kissing her fingertips. “Worry your hands like that?”

She shrugs. “Nervous habit, I guess.”

“I keep waiting for the day you accidentally dislocate one of your fingers.”

She anxiously shifts, pulling her hand from his grip and tucking it between her thighs. “Sorry,” she repeats.

He wraps his metal arm around her and tugs her closer to his side. “What are you nervous about?” he asks, his voice somber. Again, she shrugs. “You worried about being alone with them?”

The plan for the facility visit was simple, but not without its perils. Tessa was to meet Lobe’s driver in the morning and he would take her to the undisclosed location. Lobe made no excuses about the secrecy. There was a lot of money at stake here. He wasn’t about to let just anyone know where his company’s research was taking place. They were certain that he would be taking precautions, watching for anyone who might be following. So they wouldn’t be able to stay in close proximity. But she’d have a tracker on her, and another to place in the car – along with a bug. And she’d have a virtually undetectable earpiece – technically still in the beta stage of development – so that she could remain on coms. And Sam would have his new little toy following the car at a safe distance so that they could maintain some sort of visual.

Once they got to the location, all she had to do was surreptitiously plant some bugs – each about the size of the head of a pin – as they gave her a tour. Easy-peasy.

“You know we’ll have your back,” he says into her hair. “We’ll be tracking you the whole time. No matter where they take you, we’ll never be more than a couple of minutes away.”

“I know,” she says softly.

“Are you afraid of what you might find there?” he asks after a long, thoughtful moment. “What you might see?”

She slides her chin up along his ribcage and rests it on his chest so that she can look him in the eye. “What if they’re close?” she asks. “What if they almost have it figured out?” She drops her gaze, looking past him. “What if we’re too late?”

He raises his brows. “What if we’re not? What if they’re nowhere near having it figured out? What if everything goes according to plan, and we get enough intel to have them shut down before they even get started?”

“What if we do, but then someone else starts up with the same grand plans and they do figure it all out?” she retorts, her voice rising in pitch at the end.

“You’re spinning in circles, doll,” he tells her with a crooked grin. “That’s why we don’t play the ‘what if’ game. Especially not the night before a mission.”

She snuggles back into him with a frown. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” she mumbles. “I feel like this is… so important. And if I fuck up – ”

“Hey,” he stops her, twisting around beneath her to bring himself eye to eye. “You’re not gonna fuck anything up.”

“You don’t know that,” she says, a despondency to her voice. “You don’t know how good I am at fucking things up.”

He looks deep into her eyes, takes in the pain, the regret. He recognizes that look as one he’s seen in the mirror a hundred times before. “Baby,” he tells her, “I don’t know what happened in your past… with your family… with the X-Men. I don’t know if you did or didn’t somehow fuck something up back then. But I’ll tell you this, Stark was right earlier. Doing this won’t change the past. And if you go into it thinking that it somehow could… thinking that you might be able to redeem yourself, or forgive yourself… Baby, that kind of unfocused thinking could easily compromise a mission.”

She sighs dramatically. “Damn you and your super hearing,” she mumbles. Tony had meant that piece of advice to be for her and her alone. He understood that no one else knew about what had happened all those years ago. And he understood that she wouldn’t want to answer any questions about it now.

As if he could read her mind, Bucky says, “I’m not asking about what happened. That’s not what you need to focus on. Tomorrow is about stopping some bad shit from happening in the future, not making up for some bad shit that happened in the past.”

She twists her face into his side and grumbles incoherently.

“You need to get some sleep,” he tells her, leaning away to flip off the bedside lamp. When he turns back, she wraps her arms tightly around him and pulls him close. He does the same, holding her once more like she’s the most precious thing in his world.

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x oc #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky x original female character #marvel fanfic #avengers fanfiction #supernova

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aradias-crypt · 5 years ago

Text

Sinful Symphonies

“This song again?” You rub your temples, your eye twitching as the sound of heavy metal drones on in your head. It overwhelms the sound of your own music. Setting down your palette, you drop your paintbrush into a jar of solvent before marching to your radio resting on the windowsill of your room.

Lowering the volume, you wait for the music on your other’s “side” to soften. You honestly pity their eardrums if they listen to music this loudly.

Soon, the music stops altogether.

Good.

You crank up your own music to full blast. A smug smile tugs at your lips.

“Hope you like jazz, jerk face.”

Ever since the day you were born, music seemed to stream constantly to you from your other half’s side. Whether it was night or day, music played ceaselessly. When you were young, you’d make a game of playing your favorite records to try and share your tastes with your soulmate, hoping they’d eventually show an interest in the same music.

Their music didn’t change exactly, mostly sticking to classics and rock, but on nights when your room grew uncomfortably quiet, soft music would play and lull you to sleep.

Childhood was fun, full of guessing games and the like, but the tune changed when you reached your teens. As supers made more and more appearances in your life, the music grew darker and twisted, as if the person on the other side was directly affected in some way.

Soon, your game of appeasing your other evolved into a game of bothering them as they did you. Some days you won, some you lost. You blasted ballads and pop songs while they flooded you with death metal and songs you couldn’t decipher. You won the mornings while they won the nights. Mostly when you were preparing to sleep.

At the very least, they didn’t often get hurt. That, you were grateful for. Pain is also shared between soulmates, though the physical wound of the other is only momentary for the partner.

“Still, you have a wicked sense of humor, love.” You sigh, rubbing your eyes as the memory of flesh falling from your face comes to mind. There’s been plenty of times where your body ached from phantom shifting, but the physical wounds always hurt the most. “Making me worry about you when you put yourself in situations like that.”

Perhaps they're a hero or a villain. Its entirely possible. Supers put themselves in harms way all the time. Maybe it wasn’t recklessness but the goodness of their hearts that drove them into danger.

...or they were just a prankster

Either way, they were getting drop kicked to the heavens when you found them.

“Now that I think of it, they have to be pretty old if they’ve been at this since I was born.” You muse to yourself, brushing your hair back as you pick up where you left off on the canvas covered in oil paint before you.

“Maybe I’ll paint you one day.”

——

“Starting off with Dean Martin I see” you adjust the strap of your supply bag to rest more comfortably across your chest. The smooth crooning of the late singer invades your thoughts; its a nice change of pace. “You must be having a good day huh?” Exiting your car, you hum along to the song as you open the trunk of your car to take out your painting.

For your college class, you decide to bring in your painting of the final battle between the Headless Rider and Bright Knight; a super-villain and superhero who later disappeared from the public’s eye. You were pretty damn proud of the piece, seeing how it had taken you weeks to finish.

Entering the liberal and performing arts center, you head for the elevators. On the way you pass by several.. odd looking individuals. They were robots. However, living in a world full of supers means not much phases you anymore.

Shrugging, you continue your journey and makes your way up to the 11th floor. Passing by Mara, one of your classmates, the two of you start up a conversation about the sudden appearance of the Four Horsemen. Mercenaries that arrived from Calamni {a country far to the south}, the Horsemen brought with them a new wave of terror; ranging from riots to bio weapons. They didn't act on their own but would do nearly anything for the right price.

“I’m afraid to go outside at night.. I hear Pestilence is preparing something real nasty. They say she’s the one behind the break in at the CDC.” Mara says, her skin turning ashen at the thought of the pale rider.

”Are you up to date on all your shots?” You respond jokingly, smiling down at the shorter girl.

Mara whines and clutches her sculpture to her chest,”Its not funny, I get sick super easily. And what if my soulmate is in the area of the attack? I don’t want to lose them before I even meet them!”

“I’m sure you and your soulmate will be just fine” You reassuringly state,”Just drink a lot of orange juice and take your vitamins.” You wink playfully.

Your classmate frowns. ”What about you, aren’t you worried about your soulmate?”

“They’ve gone through worse than a little cold. I think they’ll be just fine” They didn’t seem to feel worried, if the transitioning sound to Frank Sinatra was any indication of their mood.

Diverting from your original discussion, you both prepare yourselves for the upcoming critiques.

However, before you can step through the doors to class, a rattling boom shakes you both to the core. You drop to the ground and assess the environment around you.

The floor titters and jolts.

Never a good sign.

“Oh gods please-!” Mara shouts as the ceiling begins to crack and bend.

‘Time to go.’ You think.

Jumping to your feet you yank Mara up, leaving behind your painting as you run to the emergency stairs,”Lets get out of here!”

Mara clutches your sleeve as people fleeing from classrooms bump and push against her. Many head towards the closest stairway while others rush towards the windows in hopes of flagging down help from the outside.

“What if the stairs are blocked!” Mara screams over the sound of mayhem.

You yank open the door and begin your descent,”We’ll burn that bridge when we get there!”

———————————

True to Maras fear, the stairway was blocked in by bent beams and debris.

Still, music comes from your other.

Such lovely music in such a shitty time.

Mara backs away and begins tangling her fingers in her hair,”We have to call the police!”

You mumble,”They won’t get here in time, the building will collapse by then.” Peeking under a leaning beam, you spot a ray of light. A small whistle can be heard from the other side as well.

Wind?

“I think the explosion must’ve caused the rubble to break the wall on the other side.” You back up slightly, flinching as the foundations above you begin to groan.

“We aren’t strong enough to get through, and we’re still on the 7th floor! There’s no way we would survive that fall!”

“Actually..” You whisper nervously,”I am strong enough..”

With a flick of your wrists, gauntlets form around your hands and down to your elbows; encasing them in polished metal.

“H..how-“ Mara sputters, instantly recognizing the emblem on the back of your hands. She presses herself against the wall, glancing at the stairs behind her.

“You’re a Horseman” she squeaks,”the same family as-“

You raise your hands in defense,”Same as the Headless Rider and the Four. Yes, but I promise I mean you no harm.”

Mara laughs incredulously,”You’re trying to make us jump 7 stories, what do you by mean ‘you no harm��?! How do I know that your clan isn’t the one behind this attack?!”

“They may be infuriating but my siblings would never kill me off like this, trust me, we pinky swore as kids. Now, I know this is weird but it’s either jumping or getting crushed to death.” You intercede before she can interrupt,”And I don’t think either of our soulmates would like that very much.”

Gulping down several deep breaths Mara looks past you to the rubble blocking the wall.

”..You can’t just clear the rest of the stairs..?”

“I’m fast but not that fast” The rumbling grows deafening. Even from here, the sounds of screaming can be heard from upstairs. But it too is silenced by the destruction.

You growl,”Choose now Mara!”

“Okay!” Mara whimpers,”Okay! Please, get us out of here.”

Pivoting on your heel, you strike the rubble with gauntlets glowing like a steel forge. Instantly, the cement gives way, turning to dust and leaving only beams that are easily pushed away. Making a clear path to the opening in the wall, you break the edges of the wall to widen the hole further.

As expected, wind whips your face as you loom over the opening. Squinting against the biting breeze, you spot the cause of the explosion at the base of the building.

The robots from before are lugging out bag after bag of artifacts and large containment tubes of delicate articles and manuscripts. Smaller bots stand at the ground level of your current building with armfuls of explosives.

For a moment, you question why they would target your building when it holds nothing of importance. But then you remember the security office on the first floor that has direct phone access to the League of Heroes.

And the other building..

“They were after the restoration sector.” You mutter under your breath,”All this destruction for some silly papers..” Backing up from the opening, you summon the rest of your signature armor to shield your body. Your clan would definitely scold you for revealing herself to a civilian, but you would get even worse if you revealed yourself to the whole school.

“I’m going to jump. Whatever you do, don’t squirm, okay?” Lifting Mara into your arms, you brace yourself to jump.

You weren’t afraid of heights after your training with your siblings, but that didn’t make you fond of the idea of falling.

Mara covers her face with one hand while latching the other around your neck,”Please don’t drop me.”

You walk up the hole,”I don’t know, that sounds pretty tempting.”

“You better not-“ Mara is cut off as you both go plummeting down, her words die in her throat as she screams in terror at the sudden free fall.

On the other hand, you take this moment to look for any sign of the lead villain. Usually when robots are involved, the brains behind the operation is nearby to ensure their plan goes smoothly. But all you could see was a flash of green scaling the second building and what must’ve been a science major panicking below it as you fell.

Poor guy looked like he was losing his shit. You chuckle under your helmet.

Nearing impact, you adjust your grip on Mara to aim your right fist at the ground.

War was the brawler in the family, but that didn’t mean you didn’t pack a punch.

Releasing a wave of violet energy, the force exerted slows the fall just enough to allow you to land with minor injuries. Left with a light sprain and a crick in the neck from Maras grip, you hide behind a bush near the back of the art department.

Mara reluctantly opens her eyes, sighing with relief at the sight of safe and sturdy ground. Looking up at you, she smiles sheepishly,”Thank you ..for helping me.”

You smile under the helmet, the slits for eyes emitting a soft lavender glow.

“You’re welcome. But know that if you tell anyone my secret I will have to kill you.”

“Duly noted.” Mara laughs with a twinge of nerves.

Setting her down gently, you wait for her to regain her balance before pointing to the robots,”I’ll handle them, you get out of here and make sure the school contacts the LoH.”

Mara nods, running to the main campus.

Left alone, you crack your knuckles as you approach the restoration building.

‘I don’t want to set the world on fire’ plays on in your head, a silent requiem for the collapsing building behind you.

Debris passes by you as the floors finally cave in.

Your soulmate gave you numerous injuries.

They could handle yours.

———————

Flug had many fears, mostly two-

“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! LOOK AT ME NERD!”

Three. Three fears.

The first being Black Hat, who just recently took Flug on as his chief scientist. He would have been overjoyed were it not for his new masters record with past employees.

Dead, dead, double dead, mutilated horribly, missing, eaten, exsanguinated, excravated, eviscerated, and so on.

No one ever just “quit”. Unless they “quit life” but that decision seemed to be Black Hat’s instead of theirs.

His second fear was still Black Hat, but it mostly was towards the idea of failing him and turning out like the people before him. Flug was durable due to experiments he tested on himself and maybe even some of his heritage.. but he was surely not durable enough to face the incarnation of evil himself and get away unscathed.

His third fear was the woman above him currently frightening the people stuck inside the building she was climbing.

She was his creation, in a way, mixing lizard DNA with a normal human to test hybridization and its affects on the human psyche. While it did give the subject an immunity to most poisons, heightened strength and the ability to climb walls-among other things- her mindset was changed drastically.

He’d have to remember to ask Black Hat just what lizard he gave him for the experiment.

“Hey doc, what are we gonna do with these guys!” Dememcia waves excitedly to the people inside, grinning at the fear in their eyes.

Flug adjusts his goggles,”Leave them I guess? We just need a few more documents and we’ll be done here.” Why a lower class villain would want these papers were beyond him. Based on his research and examinations of security footage, they weren’t very important at all. Maybe this villain just had an odd hobby.

Unlatching herself from the building, Demencia rolls to the ground, landing perfectly on her feet.. Stretching her arms over her head, she counts the hatbots retreating from the structure.

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7- hey!” A blast singes the top of her head, burning her hoodie.

Flug turns around and cocks the blaster in his hand,”Who’s there!”

You approach them silently with your gauntlet pointed to Demencia. Activating your vocal distortion box you hiss,”So many bots for a simple college run, eh?”

Demencia smiles menacingly,”Look Flug, a new bug to squish!”

Flug’s squints, doing a quick evaluation of the villain who-! His eyes widen in fear.

”Demencia wait!”

Demencia launches herself with full force, effectively slamming you into the ground with a heavy thud.

Digging your fingers into the hybrids hair, you headbutt her, letting go after hearing a wet crunch of bone.

Demencia jumps away, wiping a trail of blood running from her nose,”Ohhh, I like you~” Her eyes shine with excitement.

“Can’t say the same” You stand and wince at the throbbing pain forming behind your eyes. Unlike your siblings who had a natural buffer to keep them from feeling the affects of their abilities, you inherited drawbacks from your mothers side. The more you fought, the more your body suffered.

Power came at a price.

A sudden blow to your diaphragm knocks the air out of your lungs, causing you to skid back several feet

You allow yourself only a moment to catch your breath.

‘Pitiful’ you think to yourself,’I’ve let myself become soft.’ You look to the girl in front of you, her fist bloody but her grin still plastered on her face.

You weren’t Conquest, or War, or Pestilence, or even Death.

But you weren’t weak.

Your gauntlets begin to glow as your armor shifts. Slamming them together, they morph to form spikes along the knuckles.

Flug calls out again to Demencia who dances in place, unaware of the enemy in front of her drawing closer,”Don’t let her hit you!”

“Aww come on doc, she’s just a poser! Look-“

Demencia is knocked to her knees.

Blast after blast, spikes of energy pierce her body, sending her further into the ground.

Fumbling with his blaster, Flug retrieves a remote from his coat, pressing a bright red button.

“H-Hatbots, attack!”

#villainos #villainous #flug #demencia #black hat #blackhat #black hat x reader #blackhat x reader #villainous x reader #villainos x reader #soulmate au #gonna be slow ish #definitely ooc #because lets be honest #black hat aint a sweetheart #bUt He WiLl bE #part 1 #sinful symphonies #god tests me

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valleywomen0-blog · 4 years ago

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You will see results show up after around 3 months, once the collagen generation has actually started to occur.

We are not able to carry out the therapy if you are expecting or breastfeeding.

Nevertheless, as with all surgical procedure, some complications are feasible. Your doctor will certainly go over each of these dangers adequately at your appointment. We suggest patients ought to be able to go back to their regular everyday activities after concerning one week - we would certainly advise a few day of rests of work with the choice of a complete week need to you need it as swelling is biggest throughout this moment. We ask our individuals to be conscious their face area and also not to do way too much ahead of time. We likewise recommend staying clear of UV light for 2 -4 weeks to aid the scarring procedure. On the day of your treatment we ask that you arrive for your admission an hour before the concurred beginning time of surgical procedure. Now a nurse will certainly come and also tape high blood pressure as well as other appropriate tests, you will consult with your anaesthetist as well as your doctor that will make the final mark-ups.

further Fat Freezing info & guidance:.

What are the negative effects of CoolSculpting?

Some common side effects of CoolSculpting include:Tugging sensation at the treatment site. Pain, stinging, or aching at the treatment site. Temporary redness, swelling, bruising, and skin sensitivity at the treatment site. Paradoxical adipose hyperplasia at the treatment site.

Mini Face Lift Surgical treatment intends to correct the indications of aging as well as gravity, boosting the look of the lower face and jowls with minimal threat as well as downtime. The objective is to look fresh, more younger without transforming you-- all-natural renewal!

What You required To learn About Femiwand Treatments

Infection is infrequent (less than 0.5%) as well as will need a course of suitable antibiotics. Facial muscle weakness is rare, may affect the temple or corner of the mouth as well as is short-term long-term 6 weeks. Some modified sensation around the cheeks is anticipated as well as will generally go back to regular between 6 to 12 weeks after surgical procedure. At LBPS, we understand that your choice to have Face surgical procedure can be a difficult and distressed time for you. Our goal is to completely comprehend your issues as well as needs, as well as analyze your face precisely, prior to agreeing on a therapy plan which is in your best interest.

How many times can you do Cryolipolysis?

More than one session may be needed to achieve a person's desired results. If more than one treatment sessions is needed, the next session can't be performed until 6 to 8 weeks after the first session. This is because it can take this long for damaged fat cells to be eliminated from the body.

Keep in mind that these contemporary lifting procedures are frequently integrated with fat transfer as well as stem cell transfer to bring back volume in the appropriate areas and also revitalize the skin. This treatment begins with the production of a tiny cut listed below each ear. The connective tissue below the skin is pulled as well as held back to develop a refined structural lift in your jawline and neck. Historically, face-lift procedures have actually been lengthier treatments, causing greater pain degrees and also longer healing time.

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Clients who do not have excess skin due to laxity, generally do not need a Mini Face Lift, much of these patients will certainly benefit from Mid-Face Lifting or Shape Face Raise or non invasive face rejuvenation. The procedure which is best matched to your objectives will certainly be determined at your consultation. Your result can recover self-esteem as well as boost self-worth. Many patients are back to their routine regimens after simply a couple of days. In addition, the smallness of the face incisions implies that your skin's recovery procedure will be quicker as well.

genital firm treatment examined!

Typical to all surgical procedures there are always threats connected with surgical procedure. cryolipolysis can occur and might take 2 weeks to settle, while significant blood loss is uncommon.

getting Rid Of Skin Tags.

With this strategy, the surgeon will certainly make a smaller sized incision that does not reach the ear. The cut is much more superficial and does not go under the SMAS layer. This strategy is less substantial than the SMAS strategy, so is better matched to correcting milder laxity of facial skin.

If for any reason you disagree for Mini Face lift surgery, you will certainly be advised against this form of surgery. We will certainly provide you with all the details you require and also sustain before, during and after your surgery.

The benefits of this technique is smaller sized scars and also a much shorter healing time. A facelift can give you an extra younger, rejuvenated look. As we age, our skin gradually loses its flexibility as well as our facial muscles slow. This develops the appearance of old and wrinkly, drooping skin, specifically on the face. Way of living factors such as sun direct exposure and also stress can also add to these changes. This can affect your confidence as well as make you look older than you really feel. Thus, a facelift aims to recover the vitality in your appearance.

evidence From scientific studies On The performance Of Laser Vaginal firm.

The Principle ™ Facelift is not limited by age; however, people in their twenties are not likely to have the loosened skin as well as age-related adjustments that can take advantage of a facelift. A typical age where people present often tends to be around 50, particularly for ladies. That's due to the fact that the hormonal changes of the menopause can influence the look. Most of Bella Vou's patients age from late 40s to 55 and also claim that they feel they look tired and also desire a much more renewed appearance.

I was extremely satisfied with the care and therapy I got at the Cadogan Center. My doctor was friendly and informative and also clarified the treatment fully. My procedure went extremely well and also with the outstanding care of the nursing team, I made a speedy and also full healing. The Mini-Facelift is an excellent therapy for individuals wanting to reverse the indicators of aging and also accomplish an extra youthful look without undergoing a full facelift treatment. A mini - lift can be done with very little trouble, scars as well as danger.

Bella Vou uses customers a distinctly individual technique to plastic surgery. The state-of-the-art clinic supplies the very latest medical, cosmetic, and also visual treatments in an elegant, comfy, and welcoming setting in the heart of the attractive historic town of Royal Tunbridge Wells. The advanced Idea ™ Facelift is exclusively offered at Bella Vou. The ingenious, trademarked method was developed by the center's renowned cosmetic surgeons as a less intrusive choice to typical facelift surgical procedure as well as draws in clients from around the world. An additional type of facelift surgical treatment is called marginal accessibility cranial suspension. Much shorter cuts, contrasted to a typical facelift, are made in the holy place as well as in front of the ears. https://celerywomen4.webgarden.cz/rubriky/celerywomen4-s-blog/hifu-treatment-is-it-needed under the skin are tightened up with irreversible stitches that are dealt with to tissue near the cheekbone or the fibrous connective cells under the skin.

If you pick to wage surgery, the next time you come into the Facility after your final assessment will certainly be the day of your treatment. I was treated with care and given with extensive understanding concerning the treatment I was embarking on. My surgeon was very methodical and I felt I got A class therapy.

How much weight can you lose with fat freezing?

CoolSculpting can naturally diminish between 20-25% of the fat cells in the areas it covers. It will not help you lose weight, however, it can improve the shape of your body, making it appear as though you've dropped pounds. This is because a 20-25% reduction can make a huge impact on the appearance of stubborn bulges.

The size and place of the scars will certainly differ according to the method utilized. Make sure you have actually reviewed with your cosmetic surgeon what scarring you can expect. Many scars will be minimal as well as your doctor will certainly make them as discreet as feasible. Just how much they discolor will certainly depend on the healing capacity of your skin.

Your surgeon can also offer you some ideas on exactly how you need to care for your wounds, to reduce the scarring you are entrusted to. Throughout your facelift consultation, we suggest that you are as open as possible with your specialist.

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fablesrose · 5 years ago

Text

Of Kings and Shadows IV

Chapter IV

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Notes: Find it on Wattpad --> Here

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Violence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The only thing on my mind when I got back was to get out of these sweaty clothes and take a shower.

Ever since that successful mission with the Avengers a couple weeks back I've been one more and more missions. Some in the new drone program, others, break in and blow stuff up, and still others, like this one, infiltration. Today it had to be quick, no extended period of time. In, get as much footage and information as possible, mostly about their tech and advancements for now, and get the heck out of there before they started to realize that they had extra agents in their halls.

I was in the team that went to the computers. Well, the back up, cuz we're smart enough not to go into the center heavily guarded computer lab and ask for them to download everything onto a flash drive... The back up was a room in a far corner, hooked up to the main lab, but all the info went to it, just in case. It could be readily accessible in case of emergency and they had to evacuate.

The progress on their largest, latest, and most dangerous projects were downloaded, and a bug placed in their system to spy and get the rest later. The computer room was hot, only too small of fans going to cool it down. The thick Hydra jacket wasn't helping in the temperature dilemma either. I dreaded having to replace the helmet and visor when we had to leave.

It went without a hitch, in and out. Now the shower was in the forefront of my mind. With my helmet on my head, for one, it was too hard to take off with all the straps, and two. for keeping my hands free for other stuff, I headed to my locker. The visor was put away immediately. I could almost feel the stream of water in my back, and the steam gently touching my face when the dream was crushed.

"Agent l/n!"

It was Brian Fletcher. Agent Brian Fletcher. He's been the dude in charge in... pretty much all of the missions I've been on in the past couple weeks. I learned his name on the second mission with him, and learned he was one who actually deserved respect twice as quickly. Incredible agent, and from what time I've spent working with him he seems like a good man. One thing is for sure, he's been doing this for a long time and knows what he's doing.

"y/n, I'm gonna need you to go down to the workshop... or where ever Mr. Stark is and give this to him." He handed me a file which I assumed had the information we just recovered.

"Yes, sir. I'll grab a quick shower and hand it off. "

"No, now."

I resisted the urge to groan, but failed to withhold, "why?"

Before I could retract the statement, or Brian could answer, there was a voice from across the locker room, "Because you're the only one here that Tony likes!"

He looked at me with a look that said, 'they have a point'

And I'd be lying if I didn't say I mirrored the expression.

So, I took the file, not bothering to take anything off, since this is so important. I trudged down the hallway, in the most respectful way possible.

I nodded to those I knew as I passed, the file securely in my hand. There were a few double takes at the uniform, but were quickly resolved once they noticed how disheveled the open jacket looked and saw my face. Which, looking back may not have been the best reaction, and wasn't a good decision on my part in the first place either...

Oh well.

I finally made it to the lab/workshop/whatever you want to call it. That shower was still calling my name, so I wanted to get this over as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the commute to Tony's den was not short, and my legs were not getting any younger. Fortunately, we have been making the Avengers compound our landing base, so it wasn't like I had to go from SHIELD headquarters to find him.

I knocked on the window, but the music was playing really loud to be heard over the louder machinery. Since he wasn't gonna let me in I decided to see if JARVIS would let me in.

"Hey, Jarvis"

"Yes ma'am"

"I've got orders to give this file to Tony, can I get in there?"

"It is open miss"

The door moved a little bit to show it was now open. It kinda made me wonder if it was open all along, but there wasn't anything telling me it was so I didn't think too hard about it.

"Thank you sir" I said it in a little sing song to show my appreciation without all the formal crap.

"Of course miss"

I could feel the bass guitar rattle my bones in just the right way. In the short time that I listened to it I could tell that it was an AC DC song, but not exactly which one. Not that I should know, I only did have about five on my recognizable list.

Right then Tony's peripheral vision must have picked me up as he stood up knocking his chair over behind him. It probably would have been smart of me if I had noticed he was working on a repulsor. That was on his hand. And now charged up. And pointed at me.

As any regular sane person, I didn't want to be blown sky high, so I raised my hands and made sure my face was visible so he could see who I was and that I was no threat. There was a tense probably ten seconds (which felt like hours, but you don't wanna know that) where the only movement was the metal shavings on the floor, vibrating with the guitar rifts.

"Mr. Stark? Its me, Agent Y/n L/n?"

He blinked a couple times, like he was clearing his vision. I realized he was probably really tired, and plus looking at something so small and close probably messed with his eyes. After a second he seemed to have registered who I was and smiled.

I let out a breath, then figured I had better explain why I scared him half to death.

"Hey so I was sent to give you this file, right away. I'm pretty sure it contains information we just acquired from that HYDRA base we just infiltrated." I set the file on his desk then had an idea. "Hey Jarvis?"

"Yes miss?"

"Make sure Mr. Stark doesn't forget this file, please?"

"Consider it done"

I smiled, "Thank you!"

I looked back at Tony to see that he was lowering his hand with the state of the art in weapon tech strapped to it. I was only alerted something was amiss when I noticed his eyes widen and look slightly above and behind me.

Then I was thrown into a wall.

The gut feeling washed over me too late. Maybe it wasn't even that gut feeling. Maybe it was just the churning from being tossed across the room, high enough in the air as to miss most of the equipment in the room. Whatever it was... It didn't help me at all.

My vision went black, and I felt light headed as if I stood up too quickly. Before I could recover, a hand wrapped itself around my throat. My vision came back slowly, but not before that same hand lifted me along the wall so high that my feet no longer touched the floor. They seemed to know what they were doing as they held me in a manner that limited my airflow, but left enough open for me to answer.

Or die slowly.

"That symbol has no place here!"

I finally saw who it was, and my eyes widened in shock.

Loki.

I didn't even know he was released and approved, yet. That being said, maybe he wasn't. The only thing that mattered that he was either gonna question me, hurt me, or kill me, in the next few minutes. Who knows? Maybe all three.

"What were you going to do to the tin man!?"

He tightened his grip, a threat to answer. His over eagerness betrayed him, however. My view started shrinking. His questions faded out, the shower that was so wanted before, now seemed like an out of reach luxury. One I no longer wanted or thought about. The only thing on my mind was the pain of being slammed yet again into the wall, and the ever decreasing oxygen supply.

I smacked at his hand. Tried to pull it apart. In a last ditch effort I kicked my legs. One of my feet hit something, it was obvious it was on the side of his body as my heal glanced off of him. It caused him to bend at the hip, causing less pressure up against the wall.

I started to slide down and used the opportunity to smack his hand off of my throat. Dropping the rest of the way to the ground, I crawled away, instincts kicking in.

"Woah, woah, woah!"

I fell on the ground trying to catch my breath. I could see Tony step between me and my assailant, back to me, holding his hands up in a non-threatening manner.

My hands started ripping off the helmet, which I suppose I should be grateful for, and then throwing the jacket as far away from me as possible revealing in full the SHIELD cut off sleeved t-shirt underneath. It seemed like it would help stop the wheezing, and it also seemed to help defuse the situation behind me.

Once the adrenaline started to fade, my mind reasoned with what happened.

He was defending... Tin man? Did he mean Tony? Oh, I'm getting dizzy again... The ground looks inviting... Man, is he strong... I Do Not... do not... not... want ... to be... on his bad side...

All the wheezing lead to a coughing fit. One that hurt like the devil and seemed to last just as long. A hand rested on my back, rubbing back and forth as if to soothe me. I glanced back, Tony was crouched beside me, looking concerned. My eyes wandered past him to the man who held my life in his hand a moment ago.

He gave a very stiff nod, not a single emotion easily read on his face. He then turned gracefully on his heal and strode almost silently from the room. Only then did I notice that the music wasn't playing. My coughs echoing around the workshop.

Tony helped me sit against the wall. I gingerly touched my throat, clenching my jaw when I realized how tender it was.

"Are you okay?"

The first sound that came out of my mouth sounded strangled, and it hurt just as much. I took a sharp intake of breath before trying again.

"I'll... " I took another deep breath, "Live." I rested my face in my hands, letting out a shaky breath. I didn't know that there were tears rolling down my cheeks until my fingers felt them.

"Okay, breathe in. Through the nose. Hold it..." His fingers were lightly touching my knee, perhaps in a gesture to show he's there.

He guided me through breathing exercises for a couple minutes. The way he watched me do it and helped showed this was far from the first time he's done this. For himself or others I didn't know.

Once my breathing became regular, or at least more regular, he helped me stand.

"Let's get you to the infirmity, that bruise is getting swollen."

I wobbled on my feet, grabbing onto his hand to help steady myself.

"Thank you, sir."

"Y/n, call me Tony... After we get you fixed up I'm gonna find out what the actual crap happened."

Tags: @nightrose64

#loki odinson #loki x reader #avengers x reader #avengersfanfiction #marvel #tony stark #shield #loki fanfic #pain #attack #comfort #x reader #avengers x you #Avengers #Of Kings and Shadows

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aliypop · 4 years ago

Text

Apatia

Word Count: 3,235

Character Count: 17,58

Warning: Slight murder?

A/N: this is the third part to Empatia and Simpatia so I really hope you guys enjoys and please let me know if you do!

"Seems you're home early.." Hannibal said a soft smile on his face, "It would seem so if this were my home," the lawyer grumbled her leg resting on one of his pillows, the doctor had told her that resting would give herself a bit more strength than when she had entered the hospital, but as always she was reluctant and hard-headed, staring out the window in the living room she focused on the raindrops something she had been doing lately other than trying to cook in Hannibals unexplainably Sweedish supplied kitchen,

"Have you taken what the doctors prescribed you yet.." he sat next to her on the couch, watching the way the dim lamp lighting made her glow as if she were heaven-sent.

" Madness can be a medicine for the modern world. You take it in moderation, " mumbling as eyes focused on the case trying to read Wills chicken scratch handwriting, "Is that not what you've always told me, " Shanel asked, her tone of voice blunt and oozing with sarcasm, "It is but it's best if you take them in this case to heal," trying not to get aggravated with her although she had only been out the hospital for a week, he still couldn't hide his concern for what he found in her file, "You should leave me alone .." she mumbled under her breath trying to verbally push him away,

"You feel like you're sinking, " he looked at her,

"I'm fine.." she looked away from his shark-like gaze.

"You barely come out of your room, " he sighed, watching her avoid his eye contact, "Why is that?"

"Well, Doctor Lector.. if we're playing a game of doctor-patient.." she tried not to lash out at him, her fingers fidgeting around the fabric under her, "This isn't my home, I question why I agreed with you to stay, nothing I own is even here," Shanel sighed, attending to her note again Hannibal closing her notepad,

"You've been awfully rude lately.. " he growled much as a lion would growl to get a lamb to grovel at its feet, dark honey eyes glared at his amber ones,

"Maybe I would enjoy it if I was home in my apartment, or if I didn't have nightmares every night, or if I wasn't such a!" she covered her mouth, turning away from him quickly, Hannibal could sense and smell what was going on with her he could practically taste her sleepless nights the stench of her depression her aching bones from working herself too hard let alone the way she startled around him lately, he'd only seen this in a few older clients, but never this close,

"How long have you been surviving post-traumatic stress disorder," he sat down on his chase, sketchbook open, "If you must know.. I've been suffering from this since I was little.." she mumbled, focusing on his hands, his face the way it no longer blurred, instead, he stood out among the darkness surrounding him,

"You've gone through quite an awful lot of psychiatrists have you not..' he looked up, catching the lighting from above her head as she continued to talk,

"I have, even a few mental hospitals.." she laughed, "I bit my doctor a few times got punished for bad behavior ." her eye's now on him as she rests her head on the arm of the couch her dark hair framing her face landing on her shoulder, the dark circles under her eyes definitely indicated her lack of sleep, much like Will Graham who too seemed to almost suffer from something slightly similar, but that was neither here nor there in the matter,

"Quid pro quo Doctor Lector.," she suggested,

"I beg your pardon.," he responded, stopping in his tracks of sketching.

"I tell you things, you tell me things," she smirked, placing her head in the palm of her hands, "nothing has to deal with my case file," she suggested as he nodded. A little game with the young lawyer wouldn't hurt at least he had hoped it wouldn't,

"How long have you been orphaned," she asked, "If you lie, I will uncomfortably lick you.." she stared deep into his ever so changing soul, pencil now on paper, besides she was always told it's best to know the person you live with then break bread to a stranger, " I was 8 years old," he looked directly at Shanel, not knowing the first question would be such a big blow to his oh so secretive past that not many knew about it, his own secrets to the grave he'd say,

"Your aunt was she a.. nice lady?" she watched the tension in his back, and how it made him stiffen up, "She taught me a few tricks.." he laughed playing off the stings one by one,

"Quid pro quo, tell me about your boarding school years,"

" Quid pro quo, why did you leave Florence but yet forget me.," her voice turning into a small tremble, there wasn't a sleepless night when she was a young girl that she didn't think of her perfect stranger in the museum, after all, her mind palace was modeled after it, the silence between them felt as if someone had died and was never coming back, neither party wanted to break it they didn't know-how, the air was deathly still as she collected her thoughts, her phone ringing the caller idea flashing Will Graham's number, "Duty call's" getting up from the couch using her crutch limping about to the front door,

"Jack wants to see you in his office," Will said, "How soon can you get here?"

"Well, need I remind you I am an hour away and injured?" she stated behind gritted teeth as she got into her car, "Patience is virtue Graham .. but clearly it's not enough," she mumbled under breath, the headquarters, unlike Hannibal's home, was brighter and a lot less bleak in the mix, though the odd aroma caused by decaying evidence, however, leave a trace in her naval cavity it wasn't as bad as,

"You and your ship bottle aftershave.." she laughed,

"I keep getting it for Christmas.." he shrugged, noticing something off about her.

"Remind me to buy something else, perhaps Dolce and Gabbana?" she patted him on the back a snicker leaving her lips, walking towards Crawford's office never felt that long of a walk it was usually five minutes but with crutches and a limp it was five hours or so it seemed in her head,

"Will you've changed .." Shanel pointed out, "you've been irritable .. lately losing lack of sleep... " she looked at his tired blue eyes his curls still springing to life on his head unlike him, "First, Lector now you..." he kept his gaze off of hers a thing he usually did,

"And since when did you become so wise with psychology .."

"Damn it, Will, last time you got close you almost died I sat there every day in your hospital room waiting for you to breathe or.. or move you're my friend, and I can't let you suffer!" she growled, throwing her crutches down out of anger,

he only laughed at the way she reacted, "And yet you can," he snarled walking inside, seeing Alana and Jack who were like usual discussing Will Graham with his shaky mental health, Shanel only sighed looking at the scruffy consultant's reaction as he pulled at a seat for his favorite lawyer, Shanel could only feel discomfort in herself and around her, never truly understanding why they called in a lawyer from another state she sat there dreaming off until they mentioned her name which never really happened,

"Are you going to let his love go to waste?" Hannibal asked as his voice echoed through the gallery halls longer than ones in a cathedral, Shanel knew where she was though still getting used to transporting herself there and getting out was the hard parts, " You ask me questions and, never answered mine, why is that," she asked looking down seeing that her suit was now a pink dress sheer showing her vulnerability but with solid silk showing all she was hiding, flowing behind her was long fabric making her look so well put together even when she felt that she wasn't, standing before her was Hannibal, and as usual, he was in white a color that suits him very well, "You're a challenging one," he said offering his hand out to hers waiting for her to take it,

"Am I..." she asked him, watching the way her hands came to her side, " And what's this about love going to waste.." her response snappy,

"The way you look at Graham.."

"What about it.." she walked by his side, "You think I love.. " she saw him nod as she laughed, knowing he wasn't her type at all, instead of Will her interest was more on someone who was intellectually competent skilled in the arts and a lover among many things,

"Well do you, Ms. Mahone,"

"Ms. Mahone.."

"Ms. Mahone.." Jack sighed, "Are you sure you're able to take on this case.." watching how she reacted, Shanel had understood most of what Jack asked of her, " As her appointed lawyer you want me to consult with Hobbs seek out that her wishes have been fulfilled and keep her record clean," she recited back to him her head feeling like it could pop off at any moment, however, she wasn't the only one feeling the same way, Hannibal watched the move in company as they emptied the truck of his new roommate per se items scuffing up her pure gold headboard and nearly ripping her king-sized mattress,

"Do be.. careful with that," he grumbled seeing how rude they were made him want to smash the very blood and brains in their heads against the walls, he wanted her return to their now shared home to be breathtaking and impressive even though she drove him up a wall with her condition that she'd been avoiding to talk about, walking into what was now her closet he took notice of what she had made the hidden compartment into, stocked with her guns, knives, and sedation medication along with several embalming fluids that not even he could get his hands on anymore without his license, but what caught him off guard the most was her pink suit that almost resembled a two-piece rain set, which made him feel two things, curious and slightly scared of what a short woman like her was capable of doing,

"Hannibal, I'm here.." she said announcing herself through the door, scraping off the access blood off her hands, as well as the leftover brains that were now on her heels, "That'll teach you lot not to go for the cookie jar," she raised her heel up pressing it into one of the victim's necks, rotating the point on his sternocleidomastoids,

"Do you eat vocal cords," she asked hearing Hannibal come across the steps,

"Should I perhaps be worried as to why you asked.." he looked down seeing blood on his wood floors and barley any on Shanel, "If so I'll be sure not injure them if not.." she began pressing the pressure deep into the man's neck hearing him gargle blood as the bones snapped one by one like a button on a shirt, "They were entirely rude, he scuffed your beautiful furniture, and If I'm not mistaken, he smells of tortured children..," he pointed towards the man under her foot as she took her finger tasting the pure sweat from the works face,

"I believe you're correct! " she laughed, eyes almost a pitch-black from the lust she received from killing, this was the side he had wanted to see, how she committed her art of personal treason the faces made, and how the trophies were made if any were even kept, to see the true her was knowing everything he needed to see,

"Did you want a piece of the action?" she turned to him watching how he carried the bodies over his shoulders like pigs left to slaughter, "I've got it from here," he smiled walking through the kitchen and into another forbidden door across from the wine pantry, standing like a deer in headlights she remained still and never once moved, "You don't have to be scared little lion," he said hearing her bare feet on the ground, from her soft walk he could sense she was a ballerina almost a pro, heading down the many flights of steps limping down, she could feel the breeze of trust pass her way, along with an unfamiliar sensation crossed, that she'd almost call it admiration for the slightly older man,

"Well, isn't this adorable a torture basement, you know.." she began, placing the bodies on the surgical table as she took a needle out from the heel of her shoe connecting it to the victim's arm and IV,

"Yes, nurse Mahone," he joked, looking at the way she played doctor with him, "My father had one of these when I was little, installed it himself, so many times I walk and.. he was cutting a finger or an eye," she sighed almost flashing back to those times, he took the plastic tube from her, caressing her finger a way to remind her that her scars were a reminder that past was real, a lesson she had tended to forget, "How was your day back on the field," his hand finding his favorite surgical tool,

"Crawford wants me on the case around, Hobbs at most times, meanwhile Bloom thinks I'm not ready to be back, and Graham thinks everyone's attacking him," she sighed, stitching the eyes aggressively together pricking herself, "Merda," she grumbled Hannibal took her finger, placing it to his lips taking a bit of the sweet, decadent taste on his tongue, not paying any attention to how flustered he made Shanel he could smell the scent which was just enough for him to know he was on the right track., "Such language ..," commenting on what she had muttered under her breath,

"You speak Italian .." she questioned, removing her hand from near his mouth " The might be a safer bet, he has liver, pancreatic, and lung cancer not what you'd want to serve to your guest tonight," she mentioned waiting for his answer as he nodded, " My mother was Italian Simonetta Sforza-Lecter," he studied her reaction to the name seeing how she froze in her tracks, the name was so familiar, but couldn't place where she had heard it,

"And yours?" he asked, "Only finishing our little game from earlier," he smirked, giving her a wink.

"Rosetta Leoni Addorio Mahone" he looked at her in shock but saw how the resemblance was uncanny, it had been so many years since he had last seen yet even been in Italy that he didn't even think twice to names, "Perhaps we'll talk after dinner, our guest will be here any moment, " he said seeing Shanel leave up the steps ascending like an angel, soaking in the tub her mind couldn't help but wonder about what she experienced from lector, one moment they're nearly at each other's throats, and the next moment he's trying to doctor her up and butter her up to get her to trust him, as she looked at the bubbles around her they seemed to have been showing her a new her the suds began getting dark, the feeling of something tugging at her feet weighing her down while the water was as black as blood in the moonlight, she kept gasping for air, but she couldn't breathe scream or even shout, trapped watching her past float around while the taste of Iron scaped into her mouth,

"Shanel..." a voice said calling out to her,

"Shanel.." She sank deeper the water becoming thicker seeing a bright light at the end,

"Shanel, are you alright?" Hannibal wrapped her in a towel, checking for her pulse feeling her shiver much like a helpless kitten, "Can you hear me..." he asked opening her mouth, wheezing and coughing occurred but it was a sign that she was alive and well, frazzled from what she saw she hid her face deep into his neck knowing that what she once was becoming came to return to her, he sat her down on her bed as Shanel kept clinging on to Hannibal his scent calming her down,

"What did you see.."

She shook her head not wanting to talk,

"Please cooperate with me.." he sighed, sitting her down, "If we don't talk about these things, they eat at us and turn us into crazies," he tried getting her to talk, giving up shortly he turned his back to walk away,

"I sa-saw bla-bla-blood," she stuttered, " An-an-an-and, I saw h-h-h," she began shaking the moment of Christopher grabbing her foot the sound of the zipper played over, and over again in her mind, he could only cradle her like he once did someone else long ago,

"The mirrors in your mind can only reflect the best of yourself not the worst of someone else," he tilted her chin up with his index finger, the puddles of tears clouding her eyes like a river, she looked down as he brought her eyes to face his, "You are no more a monster than what he is," he kissed the bridge of her nose,

"I'll be down in a minute.." she whispered as he nodded exciting out of her room, she took her time applying her makeup and adding garnet clips in her hair to match her red dinner dress and heels, she could hear the chattering downstairs almost like a group of screaming lambs carrying, but now it was her time to carry on amongst them as the lion he knows her to be, "Bloom, Abigal lovely to have you both for dinner at his - our humble estate," Shanel gazed, over at Hannibal who wore a matching garnet tie.

"It's our pleasure really," Alana smiled, "I figured we'd check on your well being and dinner," she joked as Hannibal pulled the seat out for Shanel,

"Must we talk about me, and not Ms. Hobbs" she looked over at Abigal who gave her a soft smile full of nerves, " I promise you I don't bite though, Hannibal I can't speak for him," she laughed yet again hearing the table enjoy her joke, Dinner like always had been great, company laughs and of course surrounded by fake smiles and fake love, Shanel sighed washing the dishes humming a slight tune as she heard Hannibal walk beside her listening to the melody from her mouth, it made him think a woman with so many gifts had so many talents, "I hope dinner was to your liking," he began making small talk,

"You fit in quite very well out there, " he got closer towards her, "You put on the mask so that no one sees the true you it becomes buried deep inside you instead," he watched her body language,

"Suppose we keep it up then what.." she asked him getting irritable,

"People will think we're in love," he took her lips with his own walking away,

"You make me want to murder you..." she grumbled.

"Dito.."

#nbc hannibal #fanfiction #hannibal x oc #hannibal fanfiction #new #i hope you like it #having an old friend for dinner #shanel mahone #will graham #fannibals

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sweetsweetnathan · 5 years ago

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A Little Prick (Robyn x Yugiri)

[About 1500 words. With great reluctance Robyn begins his training under Yugiri. But to adopt the way of the ninja, Robyn has to first give something up...]

(Previous chapter here)

Loath as Robyn was to accept tutelage from someone whose superiority over him he considered suspect, orders were orders. Robyn returned the next day bright and early in the morning ready to take on whatever challenge Yugiri's training threw at him. For Yugiri's part, she stood out in front of the warehouse they had fought the night before, directing a group of Maelstrom dockhands as they unloaded various supplies for supporting the upcoming operation: Training dummies, training clothes, training weapons, and knives. Lots of knives. And for everything the workers had, Yugiri found a place, turning the abandoned warehouse into the headquarters of the operation... "Whatever that operation actually is," Robyn thought. With this in mind, Robyn sidled up to Yugiri as she gave orders to the workers and mumbled, "So, uh, what is the upcoming operation?" "Good morning, Robyn. That will be revealed when I'm convinced it's actually possible to train you." She said flatly. Robyn was aghast at her skepticism. "What, you think I can't handle learning your little martial arts tricks?" He demanded. Yugiri sighed, "The very fact that you think of them as 'tricks' is a bad sign. Though granted, I perceive your use of 'magic' as a trick. But we must learn to accept our differences in order to better each other." Robyn heard all these words, understood them, and even went so far as to internally appreciate the logic in them. However, Yugiri led her point with that weary sigh. Still slighted against Yugiri's every utterance, he said, "Jeez, you take these things very seriously." Yugiri turned towards him and spoke with immediate bitterness, "Perhaps I was speaking too imprecisely, Robyn. Allow me to rectify that: I said we must learn to accept our differences to better each other. I have accepted these differences. Despite this pointless ill intent you have shown me, I am aware of your history in fighting the Empire. You could be a valuable ally. But now you must decide if you're going to go back to your commanders in the Alliance and tell them you can't be trained, or if you're going to stay here, learn the fighting techniques I have to teach you, and appreciate some damn differences." By the time Yugiri reached her point the workers had overheard, stopped in their work, and turned to gawk at her dressing-down of Robyn. Robyn felt the weight of shame descend harshly upon him. He hated the situation: He knew she was right. He knew he was acting idiotic, irrational, prideful, and worst of all, unproductive. He knew that not only could he be a valuable ally to Yugiri, but Yugiri was there expressly to be an ally to him as well. There was nothing but benefit to what Yugiri was offering him. "But how am I supposed to admit to that?" Robyn wondered. He had worked with people before, but he always kept them at arms-length, never testing the hypothesis formed by his silent superiority complex. Rarely did it come out that he thought of himself as a more powerful mage or more intelligent person than other people. Though he expected if these secret beliefs did become well-known then he wouldn't be working with anyone for long. With Yugiri, however, that aggrandizing perception Robyn had of himself was the first thing she found out about him. And now that someone actually knew about those feelings Robyn didn't actually know how to deal with that person. Robyn's nerves told him to double down, never give her an inch of authority lest she find an opportunity to turn the dynamic against him and make him the inferior one. Possibly the worst part of the whole situation, from Robyn's perspective, was that Yugiri wasn't even looking for such opportunities. She was offering to be equals! "Like that'll ever happen," Robyn thought, "how could it? Let's say she trains me in her combat techniques and somehow fashions my body into a fit, fighting weapon. What could I offer her in return?" Robyn got to thinking about just that... But before Robyn could brood for another moment, the reality of the situation suddenly set in on him. So he shifted uncomfortably under the eyes of Yugiri's workforce and mumbled, "What did you have in mind to practice just today?" Robyn breathed out, relieved that his instincts provided him with these words. He didn't "think" to say this exactly. He was well aware of how moody he was, but related to that temperamental behavior (either caused by it or causing it) was his ability to act with more certainty than he consciously had. And the conclusion they provided was a good one: Robyn feared for being inferior in the face of what Yugiri could provide him. It evoked an instinct to "show her up". Lacking an idea of just how to do that, Robyn was scared. But he decided that he didn't have to show her up just yet. He could bide his time, suffer her training, and do it when the time was right. Yugiri nodded. She wasn't happy with her new protege's enthusiasm, but she was willing to work with it. "Good," she said, "thank you. Although I'll warn you that the first step might be the most unpleasant one." - "Why am I naked?" Robyn asked himself aloud. There was no one in the room with him, so he was comfortable announciating his concerns. "Well I guess I'm not naked. I have a towel. But... Why? Why did the Alliance send me here? Why am I in this humid fucking place lying face-down on a table waiting for my weirdo teacher to tell me what's what? Why?" It was on a table in a back room of the warehouse that Robyn found himself. The sun beat down mercilessly on the warehouse's facade, and the proximity to the ocean turned the building into a muggy sauna. Having grown up in the desert, Robyn found this atmosphere absolutely objectionable. Finally, mercifully, Yugiri opened the door and entered, bringing with her a gust of fresh air and a pair of thin Doman Au Ra women carrying satchels. "Robyn, meet Kokoro and Takaki. They're practitioners of a Doman art called 'acupuncture'. Are you familiar with it?" "Uh. I'm familiar with the theory. I would love for you to explain to me the practical application before you stick anything in me though." Yugiri spoke in a language unfamiliar to Robyn, after which Kokoro and Takaki trotted over to Robyn's flanks. They spoke the same language, smiling at each other. It only made Robyn more tense. Yugiri came and stood close to the table, guiding Robyn from behind to lie flat. "You are quite skilled in magic. Both of us know this. All of your reflexes are tied up in years of training with magic. Casting spells is as much a form of self-expression for you as speaking." "She's quite eloquent." Robyn resisted the thought, but could not help but notice. Yugiri went on, "For that reason we will need to silence your magical abilities if you are to learn the ways of combat." "What?!" Robyn jerked up involuntarily, but lying face-down on a table is not the easiest position to raise oneself from, so Yugiri easily pushed him back down. "Remain calm," her voice was stern, "it is a reversible process. In fact, I have instructed my friends to create a 'fail safe' of sorts." Robyn gritted his teeth and tried to maintain a level head. I was the most self control he had exercised since he had met Yugiri, and it was out of necessity. To put it mildly he did not want to lose access to magic. "Explain to me precisely what you intend to do, Yugiri." "The first half of our days will begin with these acupuncture sessions. They will last four hours, so I have also prepared a tutor to help you begin learning the Doman language during the time you spend immobilized on this table. We will need three weeks of sessions in order to properly condition your body for the fail safe. The acupuncture will paralyze what you know as 'aetheric nodes'. My people call them 'Chakras'. Whatever their name, they seize up under physical strain. My friends will use their needles to induce this state over and over again until it is the natural state of your Chakras. This process is usually undergone by criminals in Doma as a punishment for using magic irresponsibly. But unlike them, you'll have a method of getting your magic back. After three weeks your nodes will be paralyzed, but the rest of your muscles will also be reshaped. That's where the fail safe is: There is a pressure point in the center of your chest that will undo the process if sufficient pressure is placed on it. You can try to press that point yourself, but it's unlikely you'll be able to without a few years of training. Chances are that I am the only one on this side of the planet who can press it. If we find ourselves in over our heads during our operations, I will activate the fail safe and you can use your magic as normal. The second half of our day will be combat training. The style I'll be teaching you is called ninjutsu. It is the art of asymmetrical warfare. We will train with hidden knives, throwing weapons, and study the strategies of espionage. I cannot yet disclose our ultimate goal, but part of the reason you were chosen to undergo this training was because you can blend in better with Imperials than I can. This training is meant to prepare you for fighting suddenly, in close quarters, and in situations where stealth and misdirection are key." So Robyn's ninja training began with session after session of tiny needles piercing Robyn's skin in that boiling-hot room.

#ffxiv #robyn sawyer #yugiri #yugiri mistwalker #ffxiv rp #fan fiction #mywriting

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chainofbeing · 4 years ago

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Something has gone wrong with the Avian Ark. Adam goes to investigate, hoping to find some evidence of whatever it was that destroyed the Gorlan

Narration: David M. Sledge

Old Man: David Charles

PAGAA: Nathan James

Adam Delta 5 and, Sound Design: Cai Gwylim Pritchard

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[a deep voiced narrator speaks over clicking pipes and a deep low rumble]

A soft gurgling can be heard in the pipes buried within the bowels of the AEN avian ark. Surrounded by a thousand other pipes with a thousand other jobs; this gurgling would go unnoticed by a crew of humans. Which is why the Alliance of Earth Nations felt it necessary to design and construct one of the largest self sustaining systems of AI controlled maintenance drones ever conceived of. It's not long before a circular drone scatters along and begins to scan the pipe for blockages. All of a sudden the whole station falls silent as a large and indescribable presence drifts by. The complexity of this presence supersedes all code written into this drone and it stops. Proximity alone to this thing that occupied every aspect of existence, even beyond those of the physical and logical realms, this oppressive force beyond forces, causes the entities within the avian ark to shift internally, even down to the code that drives them. This indescribable, incomprehensible pressure emanates something which moves the station to behave in a way so vastly different to how the multitude of coders and engineers intended for it to behave, one might be driven to call it possession.

[Adam is now narrating]

I’m sat in a carrier, it’s hurtling through space at speeds which cause the ship to shake and rumble lightly but with total surety. Back in the old days speeds like this were impossible to achieve, but since the discovery of the widening field; travelling across the universe became easy as- well it's still extremely expensive and difficult to achieve but still possible. Sat across from me is an old Veatorian man. Strapped into the economy class seats and surrounded by luggage, his skin has faded into a light blue with age and he stares at me with the look of a man who was not expecting to see or experience anything new until death, but has been rudely ripped from his resignation into the haze of old age.

“Hello! Nice to meet you, my name is Adam. As in capital ‘A’ Adam” I say to him, masking my discomfort with friendliness in the hopes that he’ll at least give me attention in a nicer way

“Isn’t every Adam ‘capital A’ Adam?” He replies, maintaining his demeanour

“Well- uh-“ I start,

“And I can tell who you are. The glass horns give it away”

I reach up and touch the glass protrusions coming from my forehead. At least he didn’t zero in on any of my other features that differentiate me from regular humans. The two of us are the last passengers on this 400 seat, 50 year old well worn and slightly dingy carrier. I stand up and move to the cockpit of the carrier in order to avoid the old man's gaze. The two pilots are making their final preparations to land and drop me off. The ships jolts and docks with the orbital station, the ships AI doing most of the work.

[the sounds of a creaking and broken station can be heard]

The Hangar for the Avian Arc looks like shit, space stations are usually built to deal with a minor problem, if they’re designed well enough and nothing interferes with them. I had heard stories of Demons materialising inside space stations fusing with them in the orbit of planets, at which point the punished such as myself have to get involved. It sounds strange but I’m hoping it is that. Seeing that symbol shook me, something about being reminded of Eden has given me this pit in my stomach I can’t seem to shake, for a few reasons, unfortunately. In terms of cold hard facts All that I know is that the Avian Arc sat along the predicted course of whatever it was that destroyed the Gorlan and that every warning was set off at once. The data received was completely unreadable and seemed...panicked. At least to me. When I said that to the investigators they looked at me like I’d insulted them personally, but being alive for as long as I have teaches you a lot of things, chief among them being that science and logic don't explain everything. Regardless, it seemed like the two were related. The avian arc was designed to house all manner of species of birds. One of many other preservation centres, it was meant to preserve and propagate in the face of the loss of Earth. There's no engineering department on stations like this, The whole station is fully automated making it somewhat vulnerable to attack and looting. The station does have some defence capabilities but it's mostly reliant on outside, human security that is stationed on the nearby planet.

Currently the blast doors of the hangar are shut, they very rarely get opened unless it's to accommodate large craft delivering supplies or ships that don’t have normal docking capabilities. The hangar is barren, save for a few empty boxes. The unusual thing is that it seems like it’s being dismantled. The lights in the ceiling are mostly off and there are great swathes of exposed wiring hanging loose from the walls and ceilings. The surfaces are built up with grease and dust and the whole room just seethes with dilapidation. I see three decontamination chambers at the end of the room, two of them are still lit up but the last one is dark, and as I walk closer, carefully avoiding missing floor panels and debris, I see that the interior has been completely and meticulously stripped clean. Panelling, wires and the tubing that spray the visitor with an anti bacterial solution. Essentially all that was left was just a hole in the wall. Not being one to let anything get in the way of proper procedure I decide to use a working chamber

As I enter I hear a depressing spurt as a few drops of cleaning fluid trickle out of the sprinkler overhead and onto my horns. I step over the gap where the seal used to be and I'm in a long corridor. it's curved slightly around the main column of the "avian arc". this particular station is a large core surrounded by 3 rings. At the centre column are the habitats, dozens of artificial biomes designed to replicate earth's atmosphere as close as possible to the real thing. It's not though. No amount of machinery could replicate that.

At either end of the corridor there's 2 staircases, one going up and one going down. There's a terminal in front of me with a touch screen, I press the activation button, nothing comes on. I press the button above labelled “help”. A red light flickers on and a voice comes seemingly out of nowhere.

[the voice is natural sounding, with a slight robotic quality]

"hi! I'm PAGAA the protector and guide to the avian arc! How can I help you today?"

An AI, thank gods, that makes things far easier

"PAGAA, can I port you to my visu-link?

"Absolutely, I am a state of the art AI"

"Not anymore"

"I didn't catch that, sorry"

"Nothing, What has happened to the avian arc?"

"I'm afraid that information can not be accessed at a public terminal"

"Ok, how do i get access to this information?"

"You would have to converse directly with the overseer, would you like me to schedule a meeting? It usually takes 3-5 days for them to get here"

"I’m in a bit of a hurry, on which floor is the overseers office located?"

“allow me to escort you, please follow the markers on your HUD”

I begin making my way up the stairs, the curve around the central column is very slight, almost i unnoticeable, the notice boards on the walls flicker on and off, some missing the internal circuitry entirely

"Can you tell me why the Avian Arc is missing so many components?"

"Station protocol states that under certain circumstances resources can be re-appropriated for use in repair and upgrade of the maintenance drones"

"Which circumstances were met?"

"I'm afraid that's restricted information"

As I'm following the path highlighted on my visu-link, I see to my right Where there is usually a set of double doors only one remains. Out of curiosity I shuffle past and step through.

[transition from station ambience to the sounds of a savanna, wind, water and insects]

The room is large, it's more of a hall then anything, the pressure feels almost immediately different that, along with the humidity and heat, knocks the breath out of my lungs, the whole space is done out like a savanna, large acacias, tall grass waving gently in the artificial wind. At the sides of the room where there should be a wide sweeping unbroken facsimile of the sky there are large chunks absent, ruining the illusion.

"This is a restricted area, please leave immediately or I will be forced to call security"

"What? Am I gonna be waiting a week to get arrested?”

"no, security is on board currently"

"That can't be right, automated security was banned long before this station was constructed"

"Due to certain circum-"

"Certain circumstances bla bla. But if there’s no onboard defence, and the security team aren’t here, then you must mean self-constructed security right?"

“Please leave the area,”

I don’t want to wait and find out what sort of machine a station creates to protect itself after being shocked into emergency shutdown and so I make my way out, but before I reach the door a thought strikes me

"Wait a minute, where are all the birds?"

The whole room is silent, there are a few insects buzzing lazily through the air as well as the rustle of leaves and flowing of water.

"Station protocol states that under certain circumstances resources can be re-appropriated for use in repair and upgrade of the maintenance drones"

"You've already said that but, what does that mean? What does that have to do with the birds?

"please leave the area,"

I pace out of the room, as I leave the artificial savanna and step back into the staircase I spot a maintenance drone, it's a wide flat thing designed to be as unnoticeable as possible without being a tripping hazard. A series of arms suddenly pop out from underneath the metal carapace and begin to dismantle something within the walls, it removes the panelling and I see it pull components and wires out. It doesn't move or act like any sort of typical automated drone would, it's sloppy and almost seems organic, the fervour with which it pulls the walls apart almost seems hungry.

"Let's take a look at you,"

As I reach out to pick it up it turns and hisses at me and an appendage pops out from underneath. What I thought was mechanical seems more like bone, muscle and sinew. I pull my hand back and it scurries away.

“Weird,”

I follow the drone along the course set for me by PAGAA, picking up my pace slightly to keep up. Suddenly it veers off to the left down a long corridor that leads to the first of the three rings. I see that the path on my visu-link is bringing me up further along the edge of the main column.

“Thanks for the help PAGAA but I’m going to take a little look around on my own,”

“Please stick to the set path”

Ignoring PAGAAs request. I follow the trail of the drone, I can see it in the distance as it races to the entrance of the ring. On either side of me are long uninterrupted windows which give a glimpse into the vastness of space, I can just about make out the other corridors that connect the detached 1st ring to the rest of the station.

“Please turn back, you are about to enter a restricted area”

“Don't worry about me, I'm just going to have a look,”

“Please state your business on the Avian Ark”

“Restricted information unfortunately, I'm sure you understand”

the security doors on either end of the corridor suddenly close and I am left trapped.

“PAGAA what’s going on?”

[PAGAA says something but it is completely corrupted and sounds like static]

I hear the clunking of machinery and the panel above me detach. With a deadly immediacy I feel my body pulled out into the cold and unforgiving vastness of space.

#sci-fi #scifi #podcast #podcast transcript #audio drama #audiodrama #transcript

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