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crimson0lake · 9 months ago

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BSD: One Time Sanity

Chapter-1: Worse case scenario

Warning: swears, mentioned blood, mentioned corpses, mentioned ripped limbs, more swears.

A.n: hello, it been a while since I posted something, but I'm thinking to be more active after the second or third chapter's post. I hope you guys enjoy the tale of gravity siblings!

Ao3

Masterlist and rules

BSD: One Time Sanity Masterlist

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The waiting gets longer and longer my minutes, for some reasons the investigation team couldn't get where he was. What was happening was all messed up and absurd at this point! At first the plane which should have been arrived later landed way more early. This valley was too empty, the investigation team couldn't get where he was, and.. that symbol in the plane...

Did someone possibly know about his past? Was that a prank? A trick? Was he falling for another trap again? But who possibly could knew it? It just didn't sound right

Chuuya breaks out of his thoughts when an vehicle coming by start to be audible. 'finally. It took way too long for them to get back here' he thought as he let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. It wasn't the best but it was better than being alone with his thoughts now

Fast forward to ten minutes later, the investigation team had arrived to his destination, some quickly gets out of the vehicle and following where Chuuya told them the plane is while others start to take out their materials and equipments from the van.

Yet it didn't took long enough till two of the investigators, who went where Chuuya described, return with a confused look.

—Chuuya-san, are you sure the description you gave us where the plane is?

One asks with slight nervousness that people get when they are talking to a mafia executive.

—Yes. I'm most certainly sure, that is where that plane is located. Why?

Now he was confused too, why were they asking this to him? They should have been found the plane. It just can't be possibly fall into a hole that just opened and closed!

—Cause.. there's no plane.

Or maybe it can.

—What?!

—Theres no plane there Chuuya-san.

The two investigators look at eachother nervously before the other one continues his colleague started

—There's no plane in sight, Chuuya-san. There isn't even a part of plane, or a single proof that there was one there any near time. The grass wasn't even leaned towards or looked crushed.

Chuuya could only listen to the two men explain the valley. But wait, this whole ass plane just couldn't be possibly vanish to thin air! He saw it with his own eyes, the blood, the corpses. He even checked if the bodies were still alive! He remembered that symbol very clearly like it happened just a second ago.

—That's can't be. There was a plane and corpses just moments ago! Do you guys sure you guys aren't forgetting something? Is this some kind of joke?

The two investigators look at eachother again then to Chuuya before one offered him to see the valley himself.

'okay, I'm going go check this thing myself, and that plane would be there.. right?' he started walking the same path he used to go to the valley, slowly walking towards that same place where that reminder of his nightmare was.

Yet his steps stopped in his tracks, eyes widen with shock and confusion. The plane... It really was gone. No trace, no leaned or crushed grass, no blood or any possible proof that plane actually was there!

—What the fuck... Is happening..?

His mutter to himself didn't last long as he checked his phone again, when he last tried to call investigation team from this valley, his phone couldn't work right and he couldn't make a call.

Yet another answer was right infront of his eyes, his phone was working clearly well and his connection was clear as it never been.

'What the fuck is going on? Is this some kind of prank?!' there shouldn't be anymore explanation to this situation than a prank, right? I mean, a whole big ass plane disappearing in 35 minutes or so, no trace of it left, his phone was working as well as always...

'No, the plane was just here! It was here! It should have been... here... What's going on with this valley?! Is someone playing pranks on me?! That ugly mackerel isn't this cruel to use that nightmare against me!? So what-..'

—What the fuck is going on with me..

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—Chuuya-san, can you explain what happened there again?

Chuuya was looking calm as always, he opened his mouth, repeating the same words for the second time to his boss. That incident really take a roll on port mafia. Not only they lost many very important documents about port mafia and it's doings, whereabouts, they also lost many important and dangerous weapons was in that plane.

—Yes boss. I get to the destination at the decided time. Yet the plane was already landed. I went to greet our guests and take them to the port mafia base, I knock on the door with the decided code but there was no answer. I repeat the process three times before using my ability to open the door. The seven men in the plane was dead, alongside with the plane crew and pilots. I checked everyone there. There was no vitals. There was so many blood on the walls. The documents were long gone. There was no connection so I had no choice but go back down

Chuuya clench his fist that he is holding with his other hand behind his back as he come to that part

—I go back from the path I used to go there to call the investigation team. It took about 25 minutes for them to come there. It took ten minutes for the first part of the team return. They told me to the disappearance of the plane and how there wasn't even a plane been there to begin with. I went to check it out, and after that is the same as me and others described.

Mori placed his hands back on the reports infront of him with a half serious and half calm look.

—That is certainly a weird scenario. The valley, it does not look there was a plane even slightest. Also investigators reported that they found no blood soaked in dirt or on the grass as well.

Chuuya could only bite inside his cheeks and clench his fist, digging his nails to his palm with the same memories flashing back at him from that moment and his past.

—Hm.. Do you know about the werewolf game, Chuuya-san?

The gravity manipulator looks at his boss with a calm and serious gaze before speaking

—No, I don't, boss.

—Well, this scenario is just a bad replication of that game.

The executive let's out a silent confused sound before he quickly regains his composure.

—In that game of Werewolf that children often play. There would be two werewolfs and a doctor. Others would be villagers and no one would know who is who. The doctor have to keep themselves hidden so werewolfs won't try to kill him. While werewolfs would decide to kill one player each part of the game. The main topic of that game is, strong and well actions can even hide the beasts and murderers, while weak and off guard ones gets framed for their crimes.

Chuuya was still confused to his boss' words, he didn't understand it fully yet he get the idea. After Mori had finished he spoke again, selecting his words way more careful than always.

—So the men who were killed were on villagers. Those who killed them thinking they are werewolves. And trying to get someone framed, and that someone is being me.

—Just like that, Chuuya-san.

Mori smiled again with his that same dark and serious smiles yet there was a power just his smile holds..

He takes some reports and documents from the pile on his desk and places places to side

—I want you to find who is this bold to be port Mafia's enemy and bring them to me, alive and in one piece. You may go now.

Chuuya could only nod and take the reports and documents placed to side of his boss' desk. He bowed down before leaving the office with the documents.

Whoever was messing with mafia had get their hands in the worst case scenario now. They rather be careful or their heads won't be in place soon.

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—I don't even wanna know how the fuck is our coffee machine is broken... And why the fuck there's a arm in the trash bag?

The younger boy shrug his shoulders as he slowly suck the candy in his mouth

—Dunno? Why is our coffee machine is broken, Hermano?

The older boy rubs his templates before sighing, he was using his last patience with this... Creature.

—First thing first. Don't use random Spanish words in a normal sentence, this is irritating me cause I cannot understand you most of the time. Second, are you going to completely ignore the fact there's an whole ripped apart ARM in our trash bag?!

—Might crawl itself there.

—so you arent technically disagreeing you ripped someone's arm out.

—Im not agreeing either.

—You know what? IM GOING TO KICK YOUR DAMN ASS FOR BREAKING MY COFFEE MACHINE, YOU LITTLE SHI-

There goes the last patience.

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doberbutts · 1 year ago

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What'cha playing video game wise, Jaz?

Need to finish AC Valhalla but I'm having a hard time staying on track. I got Sigurd back and he's a bag of dicks and I knooooooow it ties into the story and I knoooooooow being a bag of dicks after being tortured for weeks (months? unclear how much time has passed) is a pretty normal trauma response but also. Currently he's a jerk and Eivor's dedication to him while he's being a jerk is admirable but I can't relate. The game is fun but the story right now is not particularly rewarding. I don't like doing a lot of work and bringing it to someone only for them to throw it in my face and tell me I'll never be good enough. So I don't really like where I am in the plot atm.

So instead of being mad at Sigurd all the time, I'm playing Harvestella and working on finishing that. Truly it did not deserve the wankfest made about it when it first came out. I will say having gotten much farther, it's less "final fantasy meets stardew valley" which I think set a lot of people up for expectations that would absolutely not be met. It's more "Nier series with some farming/gathering elements" and even makes more than a few heavyhanded Nier Automata references. People (myself included) saw SquareEnix on the cover and assumed Final Fantasy and I think that was overall detrimental to its reception because it's very not a FF game but it's probably as close to a Yoko Taro game as you can get without having him on staff. I've been a fan of his stuff since the original Drakengard so I'm fine with that but his stuff is *weird* and often weird in really unexpected ways, so if you're not expecting that out the gate it can be a pretty big shock.

I am still not sure if I want to actually play FFVII Evercrisis- I'm interested in the additions to the overall lore and plot and I like the convenience of having the full compilation in one easy-to-access location (including supposedly a few Japan-only entries I never actually got ahold of) but at the same time the demo was pretty micro-transation-y and as a general rule I hate gacha systems especially when they rely on real money to use. First Soldier was one thing because the gacha stuff was mostly cosmetic, and you didn't need the gacha weapons or armor to win (as evidenced by my wins having spent 0 money on anything). But the Evercrisis demo had gacha items needed for progression which means inevitabily I'm going to hit a wall and not be able to progress the story without spending money, and I hate games that do this.

Once I'm done with Valhalla it'll be Elden Ring (thanks @khayr !) and then FFVII Rebirth will probably be out by the time I'm done with it, which I'll play to death I'm sure. I still have to play Horizon Forbidden West (thanks follower whose URL I can't find again) and then go back and play the additional content I have for KH3, Ghost of Tsushima, and the new update stuff for Ghostwire Tokyo... as well as various switch games I need to just finish already... oh and the new Y's is coming out soon and at some point I need to snag FFXVI... and then there's AC Mirage whenever that releases plus I'm really looking forward to Red and Jade... and besides I have to go back and actually finish Origins and start Odessey (and black flag, and rogue, and unity...)

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athomewiththecicadas · 6 months ago

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Life as a Senior NCO for a Head of Household that can't Provide.

Private Equity?

With Private Equity having to make some change ups to the latest Court Rulings, you could consider Muslims, and how this would place pressures on families to conform.

Of course you know all of that has to go somewhere, and I'm sure you've heard it before, the death rate of new births were much higher in the early 1900's. If that isn't even the old Virginia Baptist.

Families at this point admitting "I know." But this also places pressures on Mapping. And of course during Ranger school, you know as well as I do, it's important to keep track of the Calendar, your immediate location, and techniques similar to being stuck in confinement for an extended period of time.

That is the reasoning for the emergency broadcast system. Support Services have changed over the years since. Even considering allowing Food Stamp Support, higher and higher into the payroll system.

I can remember as far back as the 2000's when Food Stamps were considered an option for poverty line. But culture has changed. And now, access to support for food is necessary in today's society. The last thing your employer needs is for food to become an issue.

Local Courts are now a reasonable option if there is a hole in the support system. Offering an option for the community to round up support for financing initiatives to keep the economy running smoothly.

In any case relating to your issue, if you ran into a scenario where your normal life isn't providing the support you need, for the issue you are facing, you have an option to get involved. And somewhere, someone would be able to see there might be a problem. Thus, offering support.

And this changes even the mentality of "less government is most responsible." Where the techniques of Survival for defensive purposes are much more of a reasonable lifestyle.

Housing has also become an issue, where housing programs originally viewed by land owners as a "free Government paycheck," has turned into "a debting system is maybe a better option." And the laws protecting renters, have actually helped land owners convey their real issues they are dealing with. Where the tenet's burden, isn't necessarily the burden of the landlord.

I myself leaning conservative, have seen the bitter taste of the "little book," that the realities of nature's promises, are the same as the poisons it produces.

The pressures that families are facing, are making them wise up to some of the accusations they are being exposed to. And your beliefs are most likely being scrutinized, because they may be placing a burden on someone who has to foot the bill.

From a Defense perspective, the ideology of "pricing defense," or the all together price of living relating to proper defense, changes your perspective of a "politics only" ideology. Where the politics themselves should be put aside. And the actual costs are what's most important.

And you wind up with needing a government, because of your lack of provision, and a government stuck with the same misfortune. But a workforce that has struggled for many years, to form the lasting agreements we need as a society, to build a life that can provide for itself.

Which is ultimately the fundamental goal of what the military institution would assume. And contrary to changing cultural beliefs that the government is really the issue, dormitory policy has been the lasting policy initiative since the creation of the Christmas holidays.

Which would be the 1st Sergeant, or Brigade. And the Supreme Court just clarified how this applies to agricultural laws. Simply reenforcing the ideology of the institution.

Not only does this limit the use of force, thus discouraging violence, it also provides for the rules guiding conformity and facilitation, to what is most important.An opportunity for us to live together.

From my experience, for the last 28 years, the golden years were never exactly what I was looking for. But even the Supreme Court would admit, maybe we really do have limits. If not from the forces of nature.

And just like the conclusion of the Iraq war, even World War II, nature's idea of lethal force was never the same as yours. And I can only assume that killing off the population is simply not the mind of earth.

A cadet learns that living together is a much better solution. And that's our policy.But even while a Masters Degree would teach you that being broke is the only way to go, life grows over that. And that's the difference.

And we'll sit here and watch the old economy.... "Die."

Sergeant Major Nathan Marksmith, North Wales Militia/ Joint Militia Detachment Brigade (Virginia Militia Association)

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lumentears · 3 years ago

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Borderlands 2 Locations rated by how well I would fare there as an ice cream truck driver, sorted by worst to best

DLC locations excluded because I'm a broke bastard and the list is long enough as it is.

19: Caustic Caverns

There's nothing there! The only customers I would get are Threshers and Varkids, both of whom I have a boiling, seething hatred for, and there's acid lakes everywhere! That'll ruin my truck! All I'd have for company would be Elyse Booth's severely depressing echos and the (frankly bangin') ambient track.

Most requested flavour: Varkids love the taste of soft, tender ice cream vendor.

18: Southern Shelf

Have you ever looked at a glacier and thought: Yes, that's the perfect place to have me some of that cold sugar cream? Me neither! And given Captain Flynt's propensity for torture I don't think it's the safest turf to drive a truck through. My one (1) customer would be Sir Hammerlock way up on Liar's Berg, and he'd mostly buy my stuff out of a sense of obligation and pity. Also Claptrap is there.

Most requested flavour: Minty Chocolate, by Sir Hammerlock and Sir Hammerlock only.

17: The Bunker

I bet Angel's never had ice cream. I bet Angel's not allowed to have ice cream. I bet I'd just make myself sad trying to describe the taste the different flavours I have to her, knowing full well she'll never sample them.

Most requested flavour: Berry Mix, most requested but never eaten as again, Jack won't let me through to the control core.

16: Wildlife Exploitation Preserve

Not only do I have to listen to the screams of victims of torture and experimentation, I also have to contend with all manner of starving and mistreated beasts attracted to the smell of my truck. And as cute as they are, I'm pretty sure having a puking skag try to get into your freezer is unsanitary.

Most requested flavour: All of the contents of my truck, after it's been flipped over by hungry skags for the third time this week.

15: Arid Nexus

Now that's just a depressing locale. Nobody sees the ruins of their former home and thinks man, I could go for some soft serve right now. And once again, my clientel would consist of mostly bandits, so I get to be vaguely sad and constantly fearing for my life and cream.

Most requested flavour: Pistachio, a sad flavour for sad people stuck in the past.

14: Sawtooth Cauldron

Is a bitch to navigate even on foot, you think I can get my ice cream truck through there? I get hopelessly lost there even when I can somehow get myself from Point A to Point B situated 100 feet below without shattering my ankles along with every other bone in my body, you think my truck can handle these stunts?

Most requested flavour: Rocky Road - nuts to crack a bandit's teeth and marshmallow to pull them out.

13: Opportunity

Now initially, Opportunity scores some points by being a clean environment filled with workers who have experience with the process of exchanging money for goods and services. Naturally, these workers only have a five second break to work with, so I would probably have to invest in some kind of ice cream cannon to immediately transfer that milky goodness into the workers' waiting mouths. All that's left is to become a class traitor and completely sell out - and become an asset of the Hyperion corperation for life and after death.

Most requested flavour: Hyperion's™ © ® Handsome Jack's™ © ® Butt Stallion's™ © ® Glitter Cream.

12: Lynchwood

We have canon evidence that there is a demand for ready-to-eat cuisine in Lynchwood, given their grilled skag stands. With my truck, the Lynchwoodians don't even have to cross the street to get their fix, I'll come straight to their doorstep! My only problem is Nisha, and the iron fist she rules her kingdom (sheriffdom?) with. Do I trust myself to run an ice cream truck without breaking any laws? Given that while writing this I am literally listening to the Borderlands UST which I priated I absolutely don't.

Most requested flavour: Malaga (rum soaked raisins). It's Nisha's favourite. All other flavours are illegal.

11: The Fridge

I know that the general code of conduct when you see someone shoplifting is to ignore it, but when there's a tunnel rat up to their elbows in a tub of soft serve, I've got a health code violation on my hands - or rather, on theirs. On the plus side, I just know these rats are always, always hungry and Laney has proven that with some kindness shown they're ready to act like a person and consider alternatives to cannibalism.

Most requested flavour: That One Fucked Up Old Bay Seasoning Ice Cream From The Brian David Gilbert Video, You Know The One.

10: Eridium Blight

I have one customer and one customer only: Mal the Human Man. That's alright, because Mal the Human Man is aching for the normal human activity of shoving frozen sugary udder juice into his facial orifice and making uncomfortable small talk. Also, you can't beat that Eridium Blight view. And it's got a place called Lover's Leap - what a romantic location to enjoy a sweet treat!

Most requested flavour: Cosmopolitan, the most average flavour.

9: Hero's Pass and the Vault of the Warrior

Close your eyes and imagine with me: You're about to enter the vault, taking the final step in your fight against the man exploiting and aiming to eradicate Pandora. All of a sudden, you hear it - a jaunty little jingle. Why not have a last ice cream before facing your destiny?

Yeah, I don't get a lot of repeat customers.

Most requested flavour: Y'know when people were convinced the world was going to end in 2012 and ordered food with gold flakes on them because they thought they weren't going to have to pay? Yeah, I don't think I'll see them again.

8: Frostburn Canyon

Now I readily agree that it is far too cold to sell ice cream in Frostburn Canyon. However, the cult of the Firehawk politely disagree - no cold confectionary treat is too cool to douse the flames of passion in their hearts or something. That's fine by me - I'll just make sure to slap on a temporary firehawk tattoo to avoid getting human sacrificed.

Most requested flavour: Dark chocolate and flamin' hot chili.

7: Three Horns

The high rating of these locations (yes, I combined Three Horns Valley and Divide, what are you gonna do about it) hinges on one locale only: Bloodshot Stronghold. If I play my cards juuuust right, I might become a Marcus-like figure to them, a deity to be praised and sacrificed to because I'm the bitch who brings the ice cream. If I play my cards wrong I'll just get shot on sight, of course.

Most requested flavour: Flanksteak seems like a banana ice cream kinda guy to me. Banana ice cream enjoyers DNI.

6: Thousand Cuts

You can't tell me the Slab King wouldn't like ice cream, and buckets of it. Bet he has a real sweet tooth. My wellbeing of course hinges on his slabs recognizing the jingle of my truck and remembering not to shoot me in the face.

Most requested flavour: Strawberry with a little waffle and a tiny umbrella.

5: Tundra Express

Is it unethical to exploit the sugar addiction of an unsupervised child? Absolutely. Am I still gonna sell all of my ice cream to Tiny Tina? Again, absolutely. Am I terrified of what will happen if I cut her off for having had enough sugar for the day? AB-SO-LUTELY.

Most requested flavour: Blue (whatever that tastes like) with lots of sprinkles. Like, covered in sprinkles. Eclipsed by sprinkles.

4: The Highlands

The entire concept of an Ice Cream Truck was made for the people of Overlook. No need to leave your house, the food comes to you! I'll even write a little get well soon message on the napkins! And it's always a pleasure to serve a town where 99% of people are aware of transactions that don't involve bullets and/or expletives.

Most requested flavour: Cherry and cream, a fun flavour, if a little tame. Old Reliable.

3: Sanctuary

The people of Sanctuary need some cheering up, and pronto! These folk must have an appetite for sweet treats, and once I get my top surgery I won't even have to be afraid of encroaching on Moxxi's territory of big boobed gastronomy. Alas, Claptrap is there.

Most requested flavour: Some fruity mango-melon to shake off that pre-apocalypse blues.

2: Any of the arenas

I'd have to refurbish my truck into a concession stand, of course, but I really think business would be booming! Who doesn't want put some supremely unhealthy stuff (ice cream) inside their body while watching other people put some supremely unhealthy stuff (bullets) inside each other's bodies?

Most requested flavour: Salted caramel with popcorn bits.

1: The Dust

It's hot as ass, you've got the Hodunks who I just know would go googoo gaga over needlessly sugary artifical flavours in frozen cream, you've got the buzzard academy that play volleyball all day and will most definitely want to cool down with some iced cream, and should I ever get into engine trouble, I have Pandora's best and best looking mechanic right there!

Most requested flavour: Refreshing lemon-lime for the volleyball players, but you know I always hold back pint of cookies and cream for (Borat voice) my wiiiife Ellie.

#borderlands #borderlands 2 #maya the siren #zer0 the assassin #krieg the psycho #axton the commando #gaige the mechromancer #salvador the gunzerker #i guess this is a genre of post i do now #weird rankings #anyway pistachio enjoyers come back i didn't mean it i actually like pistachio #banana enjoyers DNI though that stuff is nasty #shitpost

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sofiaaaaaaaa03 · 3 years ago

Text

Comms

Title: Comms

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN! Teen reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: PG

Warning: Cursing, mention of wounds, blood, scared Mando.

Description: In an unexpected raid, Din finds himself unable to find his foundlings and searches for them.

Request: Hey! I love your stories and thought that I would submit a request myself. So this is about Din having a teen foundling/adopted child. They’ve known each other for a little over a year now and even if they don’t show it a lot they’ve grown attached to each other. So this particular story would be about the foundling nearly dying and Din being a scared Dad (I hope you get what I’m going for. Kind of a fluff/Angst story with comforting afterwards😅)

A/N: I'm so sorry this took forever to write, I've been travelling and my computer has been messing up so I have not had time to write at all. Anyways, here it is! I hope it's to your liking. It took me awhile for inspiration to hit but I am pretty happy with how it ended up. Enjoy!

....

“Okay kid, what do we do when we get in trouble?”

“Call for help and signal our location.”

Call for help and signal your location. That was all you were supposed to do, the one rule Din gave for you before he took you along with him anywhere outside of the safety of the Razor Crest. He considered himself lucky that you rarely wandered off without letting Din know where you were going, and that you always seemed to be able to handle most dangerous situations on your own. Maybe it was because you fretted to be too much of a bother for Din, seeing as he took you in almost a year ago when he could have easily left you. Din didn’t see it that way, if he was honest. You were valuable to the group, taking care of Grogu and the ship when Din could not, and he believed it his duty to protect all on the ship. Only once or twice did you call for him, and he was quick to come to your aid.

He did not think that today would be the day where his timing risked your life.

The Mandalorian found himself aiding a local trading village with a raider issue in exchange for information about a bounty he’d been pursuing. He’d led a group of men over to what they’d suspected to be the raider’s hideout and set up for an ambush. The Entrance of the cave’s dunes felt barren, and only after the mens’ legs grew sore from crouching and backs ached from huddling in the dark was it that Din began to suspect something was wrong. The quiet environment was abnormal behavior to the raiders he’d encountered before, no doubt this specific group would be any different.

“They’ll see you!”

Startling the men surrounding him, Din shot into the air and stalked the vicinity. The dunes’ walls stretched for meters long as he kept his piece raised, occasionally scanning weak spots for life forms or any piece of equipment. He paused, frowning a moment when his scanner detected nothing.

That was the first sign that things weren’t going as planned that day.

“...hiss…”

“...m..do... v.llage... here…”

There was the second.

Din raised his arm to speak into his comms.

“Y/N?” Nothing but static came back from the comms. Din fidgeted and smacked it a couple times before grunting in frustration.

Damn, comms were jammed.

Wait, they were jammed.

And in a moment of a horrible realization, Din was quick to grab the men and make their way back to the village. When they arrived they found the village in chaos- buildings were burning, villagers running, and materials and pieces and bodies strewn across the ground. For a moment, Din froze in fear and worried that you were on the ground as well, your comms still ringing static and Grogu taken from you, lost to the raiders, or worse, the Empire.

Din quickly made his way throughout the village, barely rounding the first corner when a group of raiders assaulted him. He threw punches at the first raider, using their momentum to kick them hard into another. After several dodges and shots from his blaster, most of them were dead aside from one that laid on the ground and clutched his blasted leg.

Din marched over and pressed his blaster against the wound. “Where are the hostages being held?”

As it turned out, the raiders had no plan of keeping hostages. When Din finally tracked the building where captives were supposedly held, he was unable to remain collected when he found that you and Grogu were nowhere to be found. Instead, he stood before raiders responsible for the attack, their blasters disturbingly put away as they argued amongst one another. Din didn’t bother listening, he looked around but saw no sign of his foundlings.

“Wrong door.” He said simply before taking out his blaster and shooting the raiders.

Pocketing his piece Din ran out of the stronghold and went outside, calling for you and Grogu. He thought about the worst possible scenarios that could have happened to you two as he took out the raiders pillaging the village, until all but one remained, the leader. He found him in the main courtyard of the village, his face hidden though his body seethed with labored breaths. He stood there for several moments before Din heard one last labored breath before the leader’s legs buckled beneath him and he slumped to the ground with a sickening crack of skull on stone. Hm? Din didn’t know what to make of this, and further stalked over, hand on blaster, examining the body. Upon closer look a blaster wound to the stomach was made more visible. So, someone got to the leader before Din could. That leaves the question… who?

A quick look around the area pointed out a trail of blood.

The Mandalorian followed this trail without any real reason behind it.

He found the remainder of the villagers at some point along the way. Sullen masses of faces mixed together, mourning the loss of their villages and lost ones but kept busy with treating the wounded. Women sat in huddles cooking with what food was salvaged and children sat quiet. One stood out apart from the rest in Din’s eyes, a large male leaning over a group of medics. Din recognized him as Cyrukee, the villager’s chief, who noticed the lone bounty hunter from the corner of his eye and stood up. In his arms was the most beautiful thing Din had seen all day, Grogu. The baby gurgled in joy as he walked up to the chief.

“There you are.” Din didn’t realize that he was holding his breath when he sighed in relief, taking Grogu into his arms.

“Sir.” Cryukee barely got a word out before Din turned to him.

“I’m looking for a youngling- my kid. Have you seen them?”

“Sir, please.”

“They’re this tall,” Din rears a hand near to your height, “they were with this little green baby. Your husband, he took them to the school. Where is he?” The Mandalorian made a full turn around to look for the red robed headman who was last responsible for your care. He reached for his comms and tried to reach you again. His voice rang back at him, and in a terrible moment of realization he realized that that was your comms.

“Where are they?”

“Sir, let me explain.” Cyrukee wore an exasperated expression and looked as though he was about to speak before one of the medics from the group he was with requested to speak with him. He spared a glance at Din as though he struggled whether or not to say something. And then, Din followed his arm towards the medics he was just with. Din didn’t know what to make of it, not able to recognize any of them. The Mandalorian took one last look at the chief, whose grave expression gave him reason to worry, and slowly walked towards the group of medics. He buzzed through the comms, trying to pinpoint your location. As he got closer he heard medics speak in soothing voices and their patient hyperventilating. Had it not been his own voice coming from the center of the personnel he would have moved on, instead he could not find the will to move. Grogu looked at him expectantly.

One medic in particular took notice of the beskar-armored man. He and some others quickly got up and pushed Din away before he could force his way through the medics to take a look at you.

“Hey, wait-wait-please.” Din grunted at the force and staggered several steps back. He took a moment to collect himself and Grogu sneezed in his arms. Dust must have gotten into his nose during the scuffle. “Please, my ward- my kid. That’s my kid.”

“Just a moment,” one of the bloodied nurses kept her hands on Din’s chestplate longer than he would have liked. He didn’t push her away though.

“I need to see my kid.” Din looked her in the eye, hoping that she could see his desperation through his helmet.

His kid. When Din looks back on this he would think about how he’s never referred to Y/N as his own before. He would have liked to think he said that so the nurses allowed him to pass easier. But deep down, he knew it was because of how much he cared for them.

“I understand but please let me explain. Sir, Sir!” Din retreated in defeat on his second attempt to get past her and the other nurses. She stared into his eyes and patted his shoulders, Din didn’t know whether she was trying to comfort him or control his movements. “They’re traumatized enough right now, and you moving around in that armor of yours will only make it worse.”

“What happened to them?”

“They had an encounter with Jetwal,” Din’s blood boiled at the recognition of the raider’s leader who’d died before him. “according to the children, your child was leading them to the outskirts when he found them. They killed him, he was threatening the children, and they shot him. Now, listen to me. They did get injured. Several blaster wounds to their limbs and upper torso- sir, listen please I cannot allow you to go to them just yet- they’re still panicking right now but I assure you their wounds are being treated right now. They’ll be fine, but disrupting our work will only inhibit us from treating them properly.”

She watched his gaze linger to the sound of your crying. “How much longer until I can see them?”

Din was not pleased to find that he was only allowed to see you when the nurse came for him herself. Reluctantly he walked a little farther away from the medics when asked to give them more space, and sat down with Grogu bouncing on his knee next to a young Twi’lek running their hands over their lekku to soothe themselves. Between glancing at the medics to keeping Grogu entertained, Din didn’t realize how much time had elapsed before noticing the nurse had come to his side to collect him.

She took a seat next to him. “They’re hurt very badly, but with time their injuries will heal. All they need to do is rest. You can see them now.”

Grogu giggled and played with the nurse’s finger that was threateningly wiggling on his little tummy. “Can you take him for a moment?”

Din stood up and gave Grogu a pat on his little head and rubbed his large ears out of habit. Something you used to do to calm the little green alien down after a terrible meltdown. Even under his helmet Din smiled at the alien before dredging towards you. You laid on a pile of fabrics that functioned as a makeshift cot, but you looked like you had a pile of fabrics on you with the amount of bandages that wrapped your body. You didn’t notice Din approaching you as you stared straight into the sky. Din wondered what you were thinking. What could you be thinking? From his knowledge, this was your first time dealing with major injuries from blasters. It must have made this whole ordeal so much more frightening to you.

Maybe Din was too light on his feet, recoiling instantly when you jolted at his touch and groaned in pain.

“It’s me, it’s me.” His voice was soothing, even more than normal which surprised him.

A sort of wheeze escaped your lips and you coughed. “Mando.”

“Hey kid.”

“I tried calling for you.” A gasp. “They jammed the frequencies.”

“Your message barely came through, kid. But it made us realize what was going on. We got here before more damage could be done because of you.”

Your form relaxed. “Good, good. Grogu?”

“With a nurse.” “The one with the sweet voice.”

“Yeah.”

“I liked her voice-” A cough. “Sounds like my mom’s. She was nice. She helped calm me down.” At this point Din had stared at you long enough to realize how puffy your eyes were from crying. He didn’t stop himself from reaching over to brush your H/C hair out of your face. You leaned into his touch.

“I’m pretty fucked up, huh?”

Your eyes were already locked onto his when he met your gaze. A tick passed, and Din’s eyes fell to the wounds you were referring to. He shook his head. “No, kid. That’s not what you are.”

“Feels like it.” Din scowled at your words.

“There are too many fucked up people in the galaxy, kid. You´re not one of them.” You look at him with a raised brow. “Y/N, you barely have any combat experience yet you took on Jetwal? What were you thinking?”

And you said something that surprised him.

“I was thinking of you.”

And Din couldn’t find any words. He cleared his throat and you continued, “We were alone and I had no idea when you’d come, I was scared something had happened to you because I couldn’t get a hold of you through the comms and that guy was coming at us and-” You inhaled sharply, wincing at what Din assumed was a jab in one of your wounds but he didn’t know how to help. You calmed a moment later, closing your eyes and furling your brows together. “I thought about what you would have done if you were there. You always looked like you knew what to do.”

To say that Din was proud of you would have been an understatement, he was beaming wonders underneath his helmet but realized that you couldn’t see through the beskar.

“I thought I’d lost you both.” Din admitted. “But I’m very proud of you. You saved lives, Y/N. That’s no easy feat for someone of your age.”

You grinned at him and laughed. “Did you do something like this when you were my age?”

“Yes, but I didn’t end up as fucked up as you did.” “Hey!” Din laughed and raised his forearm to block your playful hits.

A moment of silence falls between the two of you before you look at Din again. “Do you know how long we’ll be here for?”

“With your injuries, no clue. I’ll talk to the medics and Cyrukee to see what is to be done.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your fingers twitching involuntarily. Din’s hands find their way to your hair again. “Mando, I’m tired.”

“Rest. I’ll be here with you.” He watches you half-heartedly nod at his words and doze off in a matter of seconds. The injuries have taken a toll on your body, Din suspects, and he pulls a sheet over you. He sits with you, watching villagers talk amongst themselves, speaks with those who come by to thank him for his help, and accepts Grogu from the nurse when she comes over, thanking her for all she’d done for you. She told him that a thank you was not owed to her, and that if you were to need anything she was only a call away.

And when he was finally left alone, Mandalorian took one look to take account for his two foundlings. They slept soundly and with luck, heads full of dreams. Most importantly, they were safe in his care once again.

Din realized he’d been holding in a breath, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

.....

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years ago

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Peace | Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You and Bucky get in an argument and you go MIA for a couple days.

A/N: I’m a litle iffy about this one. I didn’t care for the beginning but I really liked how the end turned out. I hope you guys enjoy! xx

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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“No, you can’t do this, Bucky!” You follow Bucky into your shared bedroom as he begins packing a bag. He got it into his head that he was more than capable to help Sam out on this new mission. However, it would be against the rules of the pardon the president gave him for being the Winter Soldier.

“Sam needs my help, y/n. I can’t leave him to go alone on this mission.”

“Sam does not need your help. If you go on this mission and get caught, they could take away your pardon and put you in jail. For life!”

“That’s why we won’t get caught.”

“There is no guarantee of that.” You shake your head and cross your arms over your chest. Bucky wasn’t seeing things clearly and it only angered you more that he was willing to put his freedom on the line for a mission. Especially after everything you and him went through to get to this very moment. It was like he was throwing all this hard work away.

“I have to go.” He says, facing you. His voice is stern, “This isn’t up for negotiation.”

“You do not have to go! You are not obligated to do anything someone tells you anymore. You’re a free man, Bucky.” You grasp his hands in yours, “You and I are free to live our lives, Bucky.. no crazy missions, no wars, no danger. We can be a normal couple.”

“We can’t be a normal couple y/n,” He lets go of your hands, “Not with a past like mine.” He grabs his bag from the bed then stares into your tear-filled eyes.

“We worked our asses off to get here today, Bucky! Those hours we spent in therapy, the hours spent trying to figure out how to move past your winter soldier days. You’re throwing all of it away on a mission! You’re.. you’re throwing a future with me away.”

“He needs my help.” Is all he says as he pushes passed you.

“If you walk out that door, Bucky Barnes, I promise you, that I will not be here when you get back.” You warn with tear filled eyes. You’d hoped Bucky’s love for you and the fear of losing you would overpower his overwhelming desire to help people when they need it even if it wasn’t the right thing to do. You didn’t know at the time if you truly meant the words spoken and if you could really bring yourself to leave Bucky even after everything the two of you had been through.

He doesn’t turn around or even look back at you over his shoulder and instead walks through the door, leaving you standing alone in your once shared bedroom. That was the only answer you needed.

Bucky left for that mission with Sam and you packed all your things heading for your favorite place, y/f/p. There were no avengers around you so there was no one to tell where you would be. No one knew of your location except for you, and this was probably toxic to think about, but you hoped it scared Bucky that he didn’t know where you would be. It was wrong of him to choose a mission over you, and you wanted him to see that. Yeah, it probably wasn’t the best way to show him, but you told him if he walked out the door you wouldn’t be there so you’re just sticking to your word.

In all honesty, Bucky didn’t think you were serious about leaving and that it was an in the moment thing for you to say. You’d been there for him during his recovery and he knew he didn’t make it easy on you but still you chose to stay. He was grateful to have you by his side especially after everyone around him left.

He was in for a rude awakening when he opened the door to your shared apartment. “Y/n? Doll?” He kicked off his shoes, knowing you hated when he tracked in dirt on his shoes. When you didn’t answer he proceeded through the apartment, only to find your favorite blanket that occupied the back of the couch was gone.

“y/n?” He called out once more, but no answer. As he made his way through the house, he realized none of your things were in the place you left them. When he entered the bedroom, he immediately started going through the drawers, but none of your things were in them. He pulled the door to the closet open and the only clothes occupying it were his.

You’d left him and it was all his fault.

He spent the next hour trying not to destroy the apartment. You had really left him, and he had no idea where you had gone. He called your phone, but it went straight to voicemail. He called Sam, but he had no idea where you’d be either.

Nat was dead; Wanda was off somewhere so that ruled out two people you would have told. Thor was in space with the Guardian’s. There had been no one for you to tell and he suddenly realized the severity of the situation. You were really gone, and he might never see you again.

It was a few days later and you decided to turn your phone back on. It was spammed with dozens of texts, calls and voicemails from Bucky. You tapped on a random voicemail and Bucky’s voice filled your ears.

“Doll… Please.” He’d been crying and his voice cracked, “I need you. I can’t do this without you and I was stupid to think some mission would fill my void of needing to do something.” He sniffles, “I finally have peace; something I haven’t had in a while and I guess I felt like a mission would make me feel better. That it would make me feel more like myself, but it wasn’t it. It wasn’t the answer.” There was a soft and quiet sob, “I need you, y/n. Please don’t do this, don’t leave me. I don’t have anyone else and you’re all I have.” More sobs, “You’re all I have,” and then the line beeped, ending the voicemail.

You would be lying if you weren’t crying by the end of the message. The sound of Bucky’s broken voice and the sobs. Now, everything began to make sense. Why he left, why he needed to go on that mission. He was beginning to feel peace after fighting war after war and thought that he needed to be fighting a war, doing something. It was his trauma response.

It was late when you entered the apartment and you figured Bucky would be asleep, so you were quiet. You headed for your bedroom and were surprised to find Bucky not in bed, but he was laid on the floor next to the bed. He hadn’t slept on the floor since he’d come home from fighting Thanos.

You set your things down in the floor and immediately made your way to him, “Bucky.”

He stirred in his sleep and you called out his name once more. You didn’t want to scare him by sneaking up on him. That was something you two had learned after the first time you did that trying to sneak into bed, careful not to wake him. He woke up in a panic and had attacked you. It was after that you two decided therapy would be a good idea.

“Bucky.”

He inhaled as he woke, his eyes scanning for danger, but he only sees yours, “Y/n.” He breaths out in relief.

Crawling next to him you laid down, your head going to his chest and you wrapped your free arm around him, “I’m here.”

His arms engulfed your body and he couldn’t help but start to sob. He just knew he’d lost you for good and it was all his fault. He’d been alone all those years and then you came along, and he didn’t want to be alone again.

You only tightened your arm around him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You two laid like that the rest of the night, enveloped in each other’s arms. This was the peace Bucky longed for; the peace Bucky deserved. You were his peace, and he wasn’t going to lose it again.

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oreoambitions · 3 years ago

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I just want to crosspost this from the Yosemite National Park facebook page, because I think it’s a really important message for anyone who spends time in wild places. Apologies if it has already been crossposted.

Speeding Kills Bear We get this call a lot. Too much, to be honest. “Bear hit by vehicle, dead on the side of the road.” Sadly, it’s become routine. I log the coordinates into my phone, gather the equipment I may need, and head to the location. This call came in cold; it sounds like the collision happened sometime around noon and it’s 4 pm now. The location is an hour’s drive away, so by the time I get there it’s well after 5 pm. I pull off on the shoulder, lug a large backpack of equipment over my back, and head off down the road. My job here is easy, really: find the bear, move its body far away from the road to prevent any other animals from getting hit while scavenging on it, fill out a report, and collect samples and measurements for research. Then I’m off on my way again with another number to add to the total of bears hit by vehicles this year—data we hope will help prevent future collisions. Pretty callous. However, the reality behind each of these numbers is not. Per the coordinates I was given, I’m still a few hundred yards off, so I continue down the road scanning it for blood as cars whiz by. I try to remember how many times I’ve done this now and, truthfully, I don’t know. This is not what any of us signs up for, but it’s a part of the job nonetheless. Then something catches my eye. It’s small and artificial, and laying in the middle of the road. As I walk closer, I see that it’s a broken shapeless car part, likely from an undercarriage. More cars whiz past. I turn my gaze from the car part down the embankment on the side of the road and there it is. A cub. Its tiny light brown body laying just feet from me and the road, nearly invisible to every passerby. It’s a new cub—couldn’t be much more than six months old, now balled up and lifeless under a small pine tree. For a moment I lose track of time as I stand there staring at its tiny body, but then the sound of more cars whizzing by reminds me of my place and my role. I let out a deep sigh and continue on with my task. I pick up the cub—it couldn’t be much more than 25 pounds—and begin carrying it off into the woods. I have no certain destination; I’m just walking until I can no longer hear the hiss of the road behind me. I see a grassy spot surrounded by a semi-ring of down logs and gravitate towards it. The least I can do is find it a nice place to be laid. I lay it down in the grass protected by one of the nearby logs and sit back on the log opposite of it, slightly relieved that it looks far more in place now than when I found it earlier. I take another moment and then continue with my work. I slide off my backpack, remove a binder, and start the assessment. It’s a female. This immediately triggers thoughts of the life this bear may have lived—perhaps she would have had cubs of her own—but before I finish that thought I hear a stick break and look up. Just beyond the ring, there’s a familiar figure intently staring back at me. It’s another bear. Surprised, I stand up quickly and the bear runs off into the brush but stops not far off and looks back at me. Acting on instinct, I pick up a stick and smash it over a tree to scare the bear further away. I stand there quietly, listening as I hear the bear’s footsteps tapper away. A few silent minutes pass, and I settle back into my task. Timely coincidence, I think at first. It could be a bear coming to scavenge or this could be a common crossing area for whatever reason—we did have another bear hit and killed not far from here last week. But then I hear it, and it changes my mind completely. From behind me there’s a deep toned but soft sounding grunt. I immediately know what it is. It’s a vocalization, the kind sows (female bears) make to call to their cubs. I turn and look in its direction and there she is, the same bear from before intently staring back at me. It’s no coincidence. I can feel the callousness drain from my body. This bear is the mom, and she never left her cub. My heart sinks. It’s been nearly six hours and she still hasn’t given up on her cub. I can just imagine how many times she darted back and forth on that road in attempts to wake it. It's extremely lucky that she wasn't hit as well. The calls to the cub continue, sounding more pained each time. I glance back finding myself hoping it would respond to her call too, but of course, nothing. Now here I am, standing between a grieving mother and her child. I feel like a monster. I get up, quickly pack my bag, and get out of there. It is time to go even though my task is not done. Quickly, I set up a remote camera. Why? Every year we report the number of bears that get hit by vehicles, but numbers don’t always paint a picture. I want people to see what I saw: the sad reality behind each of these numbers. So please, remember this. Remember that when traveling through Yosemite, we are all just visitors in the home of countless animals and it is up to us to follow the rules that protect them. Go the speed limit, drive alertly, and look out for wildlife. Protecting Yosemite’s black bears is something we can all do. Learn more at http://keepbearswild.org/vehicle-bear-collisions/.

#cw animal death #when you enter wild spaces #please remember that you are a guest #and please slow down #I can't get this story out of my head #and I want it to reach more people #Yosemite

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lilith-of-rivia · 3 years ago

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Chapter 1: The Meeting

Summary: Ina of Cintra the Lioness's firstborn daughter has been a well-kept secret. her title as princess never leaving the castle walls, her abilities, abnormalities not being uttered without the blessing of the queen. She has her entire life planned and guided so she doesn't break the Crown's rules. She has been an outstanding model of good behavior, that's until she meets a certain witcher.

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Blood and gore, swearing, mentions of death

“Ma’am…” Knock, knock, knock. I had heard whoever it was coming to wake me up before they even got to my door.

“Yes?” I heard them hold their breath, they weren’t expecting me to be awake.

“Uh-uh yes ma’am, Druk is outside. He has sent for you.”

“Yes thank you. I’m awake.” I said as I rose from my bed. Folding at the hips my fingers gazed at the floor as I yawned in a stretch. My spins cracked along with my shoulders.

“Yes of course ma’am” There were no footsteps and the heartbeat was still there outside the door.

“You may leave now.”

“Right right, yes ma’am.” Scurried light footsteps filled the empty hall as they left.

With a heavy sigh, I contemplated the day I had ahead of myself. Mornings with Druk were never different. The day was was one full day of drills, day two was one different full day of drills than to day three, four, five, then repeat next week. Druk wasn’t like other witchers I had met. He wasn’t focused on the coin or glory. Maybe it’s because he saw his brothers and mentors be slaughtered when his Keep fell.

“Knock knock.” My eyes snapped to the door of my room, dragging attention away from the gauntlet on my. My mother stood at the door. She was still in her sleep clothes, a wool robe hugged her body as she smiled softly at me from the door.

“Morning mother,” I said looking back at my gauntlet, huffing in frustration as I struggled to get them tied.

Wordlessly my mother walked across the room, grabbing my arm as she sat in the chair across from the one I was in. her fingers delicately tied the strings tightly, the gauntlets tightening around my wrists. Once finished, she softly held one of my hands, her face was cold, stoic as always. But once she looked me in the eyes I saw the fear.

“You know, don’t you…” I nodded my head. Looking out the window of my room, breaking eye contact. I stood up walking from her to the armored cabinet in my room. I grabbed my two swords from their hooks looking over them and assessing their sharpness.

“I heard you and the court talking last night. Many in this castle forget I have super hearing.” I heard her sigh heavily, shakily.

“I’m so sorry, Ina…” I turned to her. Her gaze was on the floor, her chest rising and falling fast.

“Mum...don’t cry…” I crouched down by her side, my hands going to hers squeezing them. She looked back at me, one hand cupping my face. Her thumb softly brushed over the scar on my left cheek.

“I’m so sorry I brought you into this world...Into this life...I wish I had known your life would be so painful…” I leaned into her warm hand, my eyes closing as she spoke.

“Stop blaming yourself...everything happens for a reason...and no matter what happens after the meeting today...I will always love you.” Her hand moved from my face to my neck. She pulled me into her chest, hugging me tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” Hse sobbed into my hair, rocking us back and forth. I said nothing, just kept my arms around her, holding her while she sobbed. Her tears wetting the spot she laid on my shoulder.

“Don’t be…”

“You know princess, I do not normally wait. You are lucky the gold and wine your mother gives is so good.” Druk’s voice was below a whisper as we snuck through the damp dark woods. My hands felt the tree bark under us as we slowly tipped around the fallen trees, as to make as little noise as possible. Funny with Druk’s big mouth.

“My mother is very worried about the meeting tonight,” I whispered back, following him as he weaved in and around the thickly wooded forest. We were hot on the trails of a stray kikimore that had been terrorizing a southern village. Druk and I were sent to take care of it.

“Are you worried?” Druk asked, pausing to look back at me.

I stopped too for a moment, thinking about his question.

My eyes searched the forest around us while we sat in silence. The forest was no longer lush and green. Late Saovine meant the world was cold, covered in ice and snow. Nothing was awake. All the animals were in hibernation, birds had flown south for the winter. The only things still awake were the monsters.

“No. I’m not. Should I be?” Druk looks away from me, his amber eyes searching the forest around us.

“Tonight is the night a pannel of witchers, mages, and the royal court you belong to decide if you go through the trials...maybe a little of fear. It would be healthy.” I smirked and rolled my eyes.

“Fear isn’t necessary for my vocabulary.” Druk laughed softly, his head nodding as he looked me in the eyes again.

“Then don’t be afraid. Fuck em all. If any woman could survive the trials it’s you.” Once finished with his small sentiment, a cheesy grin spread across his face. He nodded his head in the direction of the kikimore and we both rook off after it again.

Our feet lept, ran, jumped, and sprinted across the fallen trees and rocks throughout the forest. The snow-covered ground would cause too much noise. Druk had gone to the Witcher school of the cat. He prides himself on his ability to remain stealthy and quiet, all while being just as lethal as witchers from other schools. He taught me to only put my feet on the ground when it really mattered. You’re much easier to be tracked and killed when you travel foot to the ground. But foot to a tree to rock is a different story.

Jumping from a rock onto a tree we scaled the side till we were above the tree line. Out heads stuck up and out of the dead branches. Our chests rising and falling heavily as we looked around, noses sniffing out the location of the kikimore. The high point giving us the advantage. Druk’s yellow eyes scanned the trees below while I sniffed the wind. He had better eyes than I. his mutations to thank for that. The wind blew softly and the thick smell of iron and rotting corpses seeped into my nostrils and filled my head.

“To the east,” I said quietly. Druk adjusted his direction eyes grazing the land elbow us. A small smirk graced his lips, he found it.

“It about four hundred yards northeast. Common princess no time to waste.” We quickly scaled our way down the tree till our feet were steady on the branches. He wasn’t wrong, we were already out way longer than we were intending. Meaning we were going to be late for the meeting.

Druk took the lead. His hand holding the hilt of his silver swords. His other hand out in front of him, his fingers gleaming with a soft blue tint. Aard was spoken in elder inaudible to the average human. He was prepared to blast the kikemore to give me more time to ambush it. Druk only ever took the lead, then he’d stand back and watch. He’d teach me a new skill by charging whatever beast. Whether it was a new sign manipulation, a new combat skill, or hell even how he wields his sword. He started, I’d then follow and clean up.

“Ready Ina?” There was a soft pop and a cork fell onto the ground below us with a soft thud. His head fell back the liquid pouring down his throat. He grimaced slightly before turning to me, his eyes were black as night, now white to be seen. The veins on his neck, face, and hands were dark black and bulging. The potion was vital for witchers, giving them heightened senses, and skills. Allowing their powers to increase.

“So fucking ready,” I said, a smile gracing my lips. He returned the smile, his more sinister with the help of his eyes.

My sword was in hand. The silver catching the few rays of sun peeking through the clouds above. We both moved silently through the brush. Out feet feather-light against the snow. We moved fast, never keeping pressure on one spot too long to not break the crust of the snow. Druk made it to the clearing first. The Kikimore was alerted to us as soon as we reached its small nest.

Druk’s hand thrust out in front of himself, a huge ball of blue light smacked into the kikimore, throwing it back and hard into the tree. Druk sheathed his sword and ducked behind me. The kikimore shook its head before it made eye contact with me. I crouched lower to the ground, eyeing the beast. It slowly started to move to its left, so I mimicked it. We slowly began circling one another. The Kikimore’s large gray limbs stabbed into the ground with every step. Its gross snarly face, red beady eyes looking me over, studying my every move. The only issue was I knew where and how it would be.

The kikimore pounced, its legs kicking up dirt as it tore after me. The short distance between us was gone in no time. I lunged out of the way. Diving and rolling away from the clumsy beast. I was much smaller, giving me an advantage.

“My my what an ugly fucker you are.” I mocked. The beast turned to me again, and let out a low grumbly growl. I was moving closer to its nest. I could smell the rotting bodies even worse as I moved slowly. My eyes never leaving the kikimore.

It charged again. I slashed my sword through the air, spinning around, splicing my sword up in the air. The kikimore squealed and screamed as its leg fell from its body. Spinning on my heels my sword slashed through the air again, making contact with its neck. The sword slashed through the beast’s thick, fat neck like butter. The screams stopped, the kikimore’s body falling limp on the ground, blood-spewing, and pooling on the ground and around my boots. I sighed heavily, a smile gracing my lips again as I whipped the dark black blood from my blade before sliding back into its sheath on my back.

Clap, clap, clap. “Very well done princess!! A full-grown warrior kikimore down in two strikes, no potions or magic!” Druk had a smile ear to ear, his potion still in effect. Seeing a laughing, happy smiling witcher with pure black eyes was a sight to see.

“Only as good as my mentor my dear friend,” I said with a laugh. Crouching to the ground, my hand gathering the small tuft of hair atop the kikimore’s head and lifted it so it was eye level with me. Blood dripped from its mouth, nose, and eyes. Its dark purple tongue hung out of its mangled mouth.

“Add another one to my list.”

III

“Common hurry Druk!!” I yelled through the rain as we ran up the cobblestone road towards the castle. The kikimore’s head swung over my shoulder. “We are already late they will have my head!!” Druk ran from the stables after me, quickly catching up with me right as I neared the doors.

The two guards opened them for us as we walked through. I breathed heavily, my lips blue as my teeth chattered. Despite my many abnormal traits I still got just as cold as the average human. The rain had come out of nowhere. The two of us speed walk down the corridor, our muddy boots squeaking against the marble floors as we got closer to the royal library. A place I’d only ever been when I was being threatened by the crown’s court. The doors appeared ahead of us as we both halted before we could be close enough to be heard. The floor below us was wet as we dripped head to toe.

Glancing at Druk I gulped, now that I was about to walk into the room, I was more than terrified. The prospect of the trials was so much closer than they had ever been my entire life. Druks hand went to my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ve got this.” He whispered, before giving me a soft push towards the door. I took a deep breath before shoving the door open, swallowing the fear and placing the stoic look of my mother back on my face.

The voices in the room stopped when I walked in. my boots stopping heavily on the floor. My eyes glanced around the room, everyone there were people I have known for many years. My mother stood in the center of the room by her throne, my sister who was not supposed to be here was next to her. They looked scared.

“Sorry, I’m late, had a prior arrangement.” I heaved the beast’s head over my shoulder and threw it on the floor. It flopped down and rolled a little its tongue falling out as its cold dead eyes stared up at Gadri, a member of the Crowns Court. His face scrunched in disgusts before he kicked it away from his shoes.

“You are nearly three hours late, Ina.” I rolled my eyes my attention going back to my mother and sister.

“What is she doing here?” I asked pointing to my sister.

“We think it’s important that the future queen gets to help make choices regarding her subjects.” Hazzez, a plump fat little man with a bald shiny head and large white mustache and beard said standing from his seat.

I huffed, the corner of my lip pulling into a sly smirk as I shook my head. Water falling on the floor.

“Yes, the future queen who passes her sister even tho her sister is the senior. Yes, and my sister needs to be in control of whether I will be subjected to the trials and if I’ll die or not.” Druks witcher attitude tended to rub off on me. Witchers are trained, to be honest, overly honest. Blunt and rude is what many present them as.

“Ina. enough.” my mother said sternly, her jaw tightening. I bite my tongue nodding my head. My fingers pulled at the buttons of my jacket, throwing it on the floor in a wet pile. The room was cold, making the wet clothes on my body send shivers down my spine.

I glanced around the room, eyeing the other members of the Crown’s Court. And then the other few people who were in the room. Tissaia, a mage from Aretuza smiled at me fondly as we made eye contact.

“Hello, princess, my how you’ve grown.” Her voice filled the empty room. I smiled back at her.

“Tissaia-” I bowed my head to her softly, “yes, it’s been a while hasn’t it? What 15 years?”

“17 years.” my mother chimed in behind me.

“Whos the mystery man next to you?” I asked her, she glanced over at the witcher who was perched next to her. Druk was seated next to him.

“Well get to that in a second. Please sit down.” Hazzez said, gesturing to a lone isolated chare in the middle of the room.

It was as if I was on trial, for simply being born.

“Druk how has she been doing?” My mother asked, her eyes glaring daggers at the five men who were attempting to discredit the years of work and training I had done with Druk.

Durk rose from his seat next to the other witcher, a bored look on his face. “She is exceptional. Not only her physical talents in combat and swords but her book knowledge. I’ve trained three other witchers before her, and none of them come close to the skills she posses. She is a skilled alchemist, a skilled swordsman, she is skilled in nearly every talent she tries. I would trust her in a battle to have my back any day. It has been an honor training her for 15 years, your highness.” I smiled at him, a smirk covering his lips.

“With all due respect your highness we are not interested in what the witcher from a failed school has to say. The witcher to his right has been watching her and keeping track of her success. That’s who we care about.”

Before the witcher could address them, Tissaia stood up. “What is the problem here gentlemen. On her fifth birthday, you all made this a rule. You said her abnormalities would only ever benefit her if she was trained as an assassin or a witcher. She has been trained for 17 years by a witcher, as a witcher. She has proven time and time again she doesn’t need the trials and mutations to be as skilled as a witcher.”

“Thank you, Tissaia, but need I remind you that you are only here to as a stand-in for the mage in your court who can still perform the mutations. Please sit down and be quiet.” My mother shot Tissaia a look, making her shut her mouth and sit down. The witcher next to Druk stood up.

“I have been following her and her trainer. For months now. Even just today I followed them while they killed the stray Kikimore. She killed the Kikimore with two strikes something many of my boys have struggled with as fully mutated and trained witchers. She without a doubt has a talent and a heart of the witcher.” I heard my mother’s breath catch in her throat as she held my sister’s hand. My sister was stating at me, had been since I sat down. Her face was painfully still, her throat tight as she breathed heavily. She looked scared, so did my mother.

“Tissaia, you will take Ina to Kear Morhen. Along with the mages in your court. The mutations will be done by the end of the week.” My throat ran dry. Hazzez kept talking but my brain tuned him out. None of us thought they would go through with this. The chances of me surviving the trials and the mutations were nearly impossible. Less than 20% of the boys who face the trials died. And the mutations are designed for male genetics, not females. I was never supposed to be mutated, just trained.

“Hazzez you piece of shit!!” My mother screamed as she stood from her chair. Her hand reached for the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh.

Her hand came down quickly with the shinny dagger, flying towards Hazzez face. My hands quickly caught her arms and I pushed her back. Knowing if she killed one of her court members over me I would surely be sent away and killed, no chance of survival.

“Mother mother please stop it please,” I screamed into her red, tear-stained face as she attempted to fight me off. Her chest rose and fell heavily. She hissed through her gritted teeth, she was probably breaking teeth.

“Queen Calanthe-” Hazzez spoke. I turned to look at him, my back to my mother. Her dagger is in my hand. I threw it to the floor, kicking it away. “Do not forget the sympathy the crown, and your father gave you for your bastard daughter. She should have been killed out of the womb. But your father cared too much for you. Count your blessing that you got 20 years with her, and at least she will die with a little bit of dignity.” Hazzez stood up to leave, the four men ready to follow him, they gathered their belongings.

“Gentlemen.” My mother said, her voice harsh and cold like the wind outside. Her brows set in a low glair as she looked them up and down. “I am still your queen, you do not get to control everything. It’s clear you’ve made your choice, but when it happens. That is my choice. She is my daughter. I choose when she goes with the witcher. I do not know when that will be but it will be after her sister’s betrothal. If you have an issue with that, find a new court to control.” the five men looked at her, then each other before nodding and walking out of the room silently.

My mother’s hands held my arms as she dragged me into her chest. My sister came up to us both, her hands wrapping around both my mother and me I. her head resting on my shoulder. Wrapping one arm around her and one around my mother, I let my fear fall. My fear came out in silent sobs. My shoulders shook, my eyes clouding as I stared at the wall behind my sister. The tears pooled down my face.

My mother pulled back, one hand on each of my cheeks, her fingers brushing my tears away.

“You will be the first female witcher to ever be. You will make history.” my shoulders started to shake more violently as I cried more. The impending end of my life is on the horizon. My mother’s denial was just to help her cope, but we both knew how it would end.

“Mum...we both know what will happen to me...I won’t survive it.” my voice was broken as I spoke caving as I cried. Her fingers moved faster to wipe my tears as she shushed me. My sister’s hands are on my arms and back.

“Even if that’s the case, it won’t be for at least another month. Live your life for the next month the way you want to, no regrets,-”

“No hesitations.” I interrupted her, a small smile tugging at my lips. Her eyes softened at me. She leaned in placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

“You can do this Ina. You are the Lioness Cub. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

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dreamywriterinthedark · 4 years ago

Text

Recess sobs and bedtime resolutions

Pairing: fem!Reader x Spencer

Request: Ok so the reader is a psychologist and is married to spencer and they have a 5 year old daughter who gets in trouble for punching a kid because they picked on her because they didn't beleive her dad was in the fbi If that makes sense any who if you don't write this i get it I just want to see speancers reaction

Trigger warnings: bullying, physical violence. (let me know if i forgot something)

Category: fluff, slight angst.

A/N: thank you so much for this request! I hope you like it. The daughter sounds a bit older than 5, in my head she’s in the early stages of elementary school. Let me know what you think about it! I’d be glad to receive some feedback. (Btw I hurt my own feelings writing this, you can’t even imagine...)

You were in your office, a typical Tuesday afternoon until you heard your office phone ring once more. You held up your finger to make your client pause what they were saying, you picked up the phone only to hang up.

“I apologise for the inconvenience. Now where were we ?” you said trying to get your client comfortable again despite the ringing. As she was about to speak up again, your cellphone rang, Spencer’s name lit up your screen and that’s when you were starting to get concerned.

“I’m so sorry I have to get that.” You said exiting the office to take the call. You were happy to hear your significant other’s voice nonetheless you knew he wouldn’t normally call you during working hours.

“Hi darling, is everything okay ?”

“No, not really. The school called, there’s an emergency.” he responded wrapping his scarf around his neck as he was making his way to the elevator.

“What happened ?” you asked getting more and more worried.

“She punched a classmate in the face. Can you believe it ?!” he pressed the button 0 waving goodbye to his coworkers.

“What ? Our daughter? Jane ? Are you sure it’s not her evil twin ?”

“Eviler twin you mean ? No offense, Y/n, but if she had one, I’m pretty sure you would remember…”

“Alright, I’ll tell my secretary to cancel all my appointments for the day. I’ll meet you there.”

“Love you, bye.”

“Love you too.” You answered before hanging up. You made it a little bit of a rule to yourself to never say ‘goodbye’ to him because you thought that if you did it may increase the chances of you never seeing him again. You knew it was a bit silly but with all those times he was close to death, you’d believe in any superstition if that meant he would get home safe.

After taking care of your client and letting your secretary handle the rest, you hurried out of your office to drive to your daughter’s elementary school.

You pushed the interphone button, once you were allowed entrance you walked to the principal’s office. You softly knocked, when the door opened it showed Spencer sitting in a chair right across the desk, next to it was an empty chair meant for you.

“I’m sorry, I came as I soon as I could.” you apologized.

“Well, I assume you’re Jane’s mother. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Principal Walker.” he greeted shaking your hand. As you sat down, Spencer gave you his best polite white smile.

“Do you know what you’re here for ?” he inquired.

“You said our daughter was involved in a conflict with a student...” you answered.

“Your daughter punched a student in the face.” He said bluntly.

“Right…”

“Are you sure it’s Jane ?” Spencer asked still struggling to believe it.

“Wait until you see her knuckles...”

Spencer put his face in his hands in defeat, you rubbed his shoulder to bring him comfort.

“What happened exactly ?” you asked.

“Well, it was during the 10AM break. Jane went out to play with her classmates when a boy started arguing with her. Next thing we hear is a scream, the boy is on the floor crying.”

You and Spencer both looked at each other with an immense look of stupor.

“The boy, did he bully her ?” Spencer asked trying to find some innocence in the sweet child of his.

“Not that we know of.” answered the principal.

“Is he okay though ?” you questioned.

“Yes, just a minor injury. He went back home.”

You nodded, “So what happens next ?”

“We are giving her a warning but the next time something like this happens there will be harsher consequences than a simple punishment. Understood ?”

“Yes. we understand. Thank you for your time, sir.” you said as you rose up from your chair. Spencer and you both exited the room finding your daughter in the waiting lounge looking guilty as ever. You saw Spencer’s face look puzzled and hostile. To torture your daughter with even more guilt you told her to ride back home with her dad which she did not love but couldn’t protest.

Spencer hardly spoke to Jane the entire drive. He was dry, so much it looked like he ignored her. Jane was desperate to get him to talk to her.

“Please, dad. Don’t be mad at me!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not mad, I’m disappointed.” those words he pronounced cut like a knife. You knew that by seeing her dad’s reaction she would become aware of the gravity of her actions. And he actually wasn’t mad, at least not until he saw her pouting face. He loved her too much to be angry.

“Okay but can you just talk to me!” she whined.

“Oh we will, back home with your mom.”

That car ride lasted longer for Jane than usual. No music, no anecdotes nor laughs, just plain silence and introspection while gazing at the landscape.

Your house was in the suburbs near a forest, Spencer had all sorts of scientific arguments as to why living near nature was beneficial but you just loved the paysage before your eyes when taking your morning coffee. The location was perfect; in nature which means less pollution, noise and lower criminal rates yet a short car ride from the city which was full of cultural spots and with high quality education.

Jane tried to run up the stairs in hope to avoid her parents’ correction but was interrupted by your strict toned voice; “Not so fast, young lady.”

She shut her eyes stopping dead in her tracks, she lifted her stuffed animal and said to it “It was nice knowing you, fluffy.” She then turned around and sat on the couch.

Spencer was pacing around, “Why did you do it ?” He asked his daughter his voice slightly higher than before. She started melting in tears which truly pained him. You walked up to her, as you were sat on the couch next to her you started stroking her arm and drying her tears.

“It’s okay. We’re just trying to understand why you did that. There’s no way you would’ve done it without a reason.” you told her.

“Jeremy kept making fun of me…” she struggled to get out whimpering.

“How long has he been making fun of you ?” Spencer asked.

“Since Valentine’s day when everyone was exchanging cards but my box was empty.” You glanced at Spencer in shock of how long you hadn’t known your daughter was getting bullied, silently suffering.

“Honey, I’m so sorry you had to go through this.” you reassured her kissing her cheek and running your hands through her hair. “But what happened exactly that made you punch him ?”

“He made fun of dad, he wouldn’t believe he was in the FBI.” She answered tilting her head up. “I asked him to stop but he wouldn’t so I defended myself.” she affirmed seeming not so guilty anymore. You unwrapped your arms from her giving her a frown.

“That’s not how you deal with problems.” Spencer said sitting on the low table across the couch.

“Yeah, you could’ve talked to us first but you didn’t even try. You know you can tell us everything ?” You backed him up.

“I know but I thought I could deal with this problem on my own. You guys always seem so good at it. And I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

You glanced at Spencer both slightly smiling at each other.

“If there’s one thing I learned from my job at the FBI is that violence is never the answer. It’s only justifiable if it’s legitimate defence; when you life is in danger.”

“Dad, do you still love me ?” she asked watching her feet swinging on the edge of the couch.

“Of course, I love you. I always will, no matter what.” he responded taking hold of her hand. “Okay?” She nodded. She didn’t seem to understand that punching someone is wrong. You needed to have a talk with Spencer;

“Now go to your room and do your homework, we’ll talk punishment tomorrow morning.” You said.

“But-“ she protested.

“No buts, go to your room.” You ordered.

You joined Spencer on the couch, he looked completely defeated. “Hey, are you alright ?” You asked him while taking a seat next to him. “Yes.” He answered a bit too quickly. “I mean…No…Not really.” You knew exactly why he was feeling like this. “It’s not your fault, Spence.” you reassured him playing with his hair.

“This whole time…And I didn’t know she was struggling. What kind of father am I ?”

“I come home every night and I didn’t know about this. It’s not because of your job, it’s not because of us. I’m blaming the school, here. They’re the ones who are supposed to prevent bullying from happening.”

He rummaged his hair with his hands whilst his elbows rested on his knees.

“Plus it’s a good sign, she doesn’t get along with kids her age…” you said slightly smirking.

“How?!” Spencer asks slightly irritated due to his public middle school flashbacks.

“It’s a sign of high intellectual potential. Her emotional age is too advanced for kids her age to understand, they tend to be too insensitive for her. She believes animals and inanimate objects have emotions and that they are intelligent. She talks to her stuffed animal like it’s a pet. She took the pepperonis out of her pizza! Also she has an enormous amount of creativity and she’s highly sensitive to her surroundings. Have you seen how she profiled your every move and suddenly her emotions followed ? Just like you she’s protective of the ones she loves. She only punched that kid because he wasn’t exactly talking highly of you…”

“So you’re saying…”

“Our daughter could be a genius.”

“As mother as daughter.” he complimented with a smirk.

“Oh come on we know who’s the genius here!” you said slapping his shoulder playfully.

You both chuckled. You kept talking for at least half an hour to come up with a plan you both agreed to. It’s not good for a child to watch their parents disagree.

~slight time lapse~

An hour after dinner, you went up to your daughter’s bedroom as it was her bedtime. You leaned on the door frame admiring Spencer, sat next to Jane on her bed, reading a story to her about conflict to teach her what to do in the type of situations she got in. He learned that from you since you were a psychologist. He admired how resourceful and clever you were. He couldn’t be more proud to have you as his significant other and the mother of his child. Your foot made a cracking noise on the hard wood floor which caught Jane attention.

“Mommy! Come!” she exclaimed shaking her little hands.

“What’s up?” you ask sitting next to the bed.

“Me and dad were reading this book you got me and now i understand. I’m sorry for not coming to you first. I just didn’t like what they said about dad.”

“Honey, it doesn’t matter what people think of you. Seeking validation from people can be so unhealthy. If you keep bottling up your emotions you’re going to explode like a bomb and that’s no good.”

“Can you forgive me, mommy ?”

“Of course. You’re still growing, as long as you learn from your mistakes I’m confident you’re going to be alright.” You answered squeezing her hand. Spencer watched in awe, it reminded him how in love with you he is.

“Yes, please don’t ever do that again!” he said a bit too quickly with a high pitched voice that made you all burst in laughter.

“Alright, you should get some sleep.” you told her giving her a kiss on the cheek and tucking her in; “Good night, my love.”

Spencer kissed her temple and set aside the little book he was reading to her wishing her good night as well. You walked out switching the lights off. As you walked down the stairs you asked Spencer to stop in his tracks pointing your finger up; Jane was talking to her stuffed animal. You both had to muffle your laughs. The future looked bright.

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lizamango · 3 years ago

Text

Finding You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 3/?

A/N: Hey everyone, sorry this took so long!! This chapter was kinda hard to write, I felt like there wasn’t much that I could add but I did my best! I wanna get to Bucky as much as you all do! 😭😩

Summary: You’ve been one of SHIELD’s top spies for years but what happens when the organisation you’ve put your trust in crumbles and Captain America gives you a mission to help him find his best friend? The last thing you expected to happen was to fall in love with your assignment and become best friends with a witch.

Taglist ~ just comment if you wanna be added

@buckylokisimp, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @austynparksandpizza, @markandlexies

Word Count: 2098

Masterlist

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~

Warnings: none

Chapter Summary: You and Steve run from HYDRA

Chapter 3: TOMORROW ISN’T PROMISED TO ANYBODY

I enter a shopping mall where I buy a hoodie for myself and a jacket, glasses and a hat for Rogers using cash. I pass by JD sports and see some Supra Vaders I know the Captain will just love so I go in and grab a pair, and get a pair of Nike Dunk Sky His for myself. I leave and meet him where he waits, away from any crowds and we put on our simple yet effective disguises.

“First rule of going on the run, is don’t run. Walk,” I say, recalling my operations training.

“If I run in these shoes they’re gonna fall off.”

I smirk. “Sorry, thought you’d be bigger.”

Ignoring my innuendo, Steve huffs. “They’re ridiculous, why can’t I lace them up?”

“It’s a fashion statement.” I glance at a map as we pass by. “Apple store’s upstairs.” We ride the escalator and enter the store.

Finding an empty laptop, I get to work. “The drive has a Level 6 homing program so as soon as we boot up, SHIELD will know exactly where we are.”

“How much time will we have?” he asks, surveying the area not so subtly.

“About 9 minutes from…” I insert the drive. “now.” I enter the coding commands to unlock the intel but something inverts each one… now comes in my training from the Academy of Science and Technology. “Fury was right about that ship. Somebody’s trying to hide something.” As I look through the coding script my inputs are rewritten to counter the commands. “This drive is protected by some sort of AI.”

“Like Stark’s robot voice? Can you override it?”

I raise a brow as I type away. “The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me. Slightly. I’m gonna try running a tracer. This is a program that SHIELD developed to track hostile malware, so if we can’t read the file, maybe we can find out its origin.” The map tracks a location and pinpoints it as we are approached by a store employee.

“Can I help you guys with anything?”

I react quickly and give him my best charming smile. “Oh, no. My fiancé was just helping me with some honeymoon destinations,” I giggle, placing my hands on Rogers’ shoulders.

“Right,” he adds awkwardly. “We’re gettin’ married.”

“Congratulations! Where are you guys thinkin’ about goin’?”

I go back to the laptop and the state has been pinpointed.

“New Jersey,” the Captain reads aloud.

“Huh,” the employee lets out, surprised. “I have the exact same glasses,” he says after a pause.

“Wow, you two are practically twins,” I remark as I type away.

“Yeah, I wish!” he chuckles. “Specimen. Uh, if you guys need anything… I’ve been Aaron.”

“Thank you,” Rogers rushes out. “You said 9 minutes,” he checks his watch. “Come on.”

I shush him. “Relax… I’m working.” The screen reads Wheaton, New Jersey. “Done.” I look up at him and he has a frown on his face. “You know it?”

“I used to. Let’s go.” He pulls the hard drive out of the laptop and we walk out of the store. “Standard tac team. Two behind, two across,” he turns to face forward. “two comin’ straight at us. If they make us, I’ll engage, you hit the south escalator to the metro.”

As he speaks I roll my eyes, this guy was definitely not meant for the spy world. “Put your arm around me and laugh at something I said,” I say.

“What?” he sounds utterly confused.

“Do it.” I feel his arm rest on my shoulder and he gives the most awkward laugh I have ever heard come from a person. “See, Captain? No need to make such a scene.” We work our way to the escalator and I spot Rumlow on the escalator coming up. I turn to look up at Rogers. “Kiss me.”

“What?” he says again, flustered.

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

“Yes they do!” he whispers.

I put my hand to the back of his neck and push him towards me so our lips meet and I feel his hand fall on my waist. I open my eyes and pull away slowly after enough time has passed.

“You still uncomfortable?” I ask turning and walking down the escalator.

“That’s not exactly a word I would use,” he murmurs and quiets down as we get to the parking lot.

“We could get bus tickets to New Jersey, think I’ve got enough cash for the trip,” I suggest.

“Keep a look out,” he says approaching a truck as I frown but do as he says. In no time I hear the start of an engine and whirl to look at him. “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he says smugly.

I get into the passenger’s side and he starts to drive to the Garden State.

“Can’t believe Captain America can steal cars…” I say striking up a conversation.

He chuckles. “Kind of a necessary skill when you’re fighting a World War and you’re in enemy territory.”

I hum and he glances at me. “And it’s not stealing if we give it back so get your feet off the dash.”

“Bossy,” I remark but do as he says. “I like that,”

There’s a pink tint to his cheeks and his jaw clenches but he doesn’t say anything.

“So I have a question for you…” I start with a raised brow. “But you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, although no answer is an answer in itself so-“

“Get to it, L/N,” he interrupts authoritatively.

“Was that your first kiss since 1945?” I smirk.

“That bad, huh?”

“I didn’t say that!” I laugh.

“Well it kinda sounds like that’s what you’re saying.”

“I was just… wondering if you’ve had practice… since going… into the ice,” for a super secret agent, that answer lacked finesse. “It’s just, I don’t know how you did it in 1945 but guys normally move their mouths for a long kiss like that,” I shrug.

“I don’t need practice.”

“Everyone needs practice.”

“It was not my first kiss since 1945. I’m 95, not dead.”

“Oh?” I say, curiosity piqued. “Who’s been kissing Captain America then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Someone special?”

He chuckles. “It might come as a surprise to you but it’s hard to find someone with shared life experience,” he says sarcastically.

“That’s okay, you just make stuff up.”

“What, like you?” I know he doesn’t intend for it to sound mean so I shrug it off.

“Not everyone can handle the truth, can they? I wouldn’t mind a few white lies to keep something good going… and you don’t need shared life experience, right? Not really… there’s that whole opposites attract notion, after all.”

“But it’s good to have someone who understands what you’re going through, right?”

I shrug… sometimes not knowing is better. Safer. “Maybe. But in this occupation…” I sigh. “Well I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in love.”

“You’ve – you never had someone?” Looks like I threw him for a loop.

Shaking my head I turn to look out my window at the trees we pass by. “I don’t hate love or anything… it’s just dangerous to love someone like… us. Isn’t it? They’d either get hurt by people we go after or… ya know, if we don’t come back… it hurts them too.”

“But tomorrow isn’t promised to anybody,” he reasons. “So why deprive yourself of something as great as love on the off chance you die?”

“Because it’s easier.”

“For who?”

“Why the interest Rogers? You wanna fill that spot? Play a little house? Imagine we don’t have to save the world from domestic terrorists?”

He hums at my decision to not answer the question. “No, that’s not what I need right now.”

“And what do you need?”

“Just…” he sighs. “a friend.”

Of course. “Well, there’s a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers…”

“Maybe we could start with not calling each other our last names?” he offers.

I smile. “Maybe.”

We arrive at the location the tracer indicated as the sun is setting.

Camp Lehigh is on a sign but it seems to be long abandoned.

“The file came from these coordinates,” I say as I pick the lock on the chained fence.

“So did I…” Steve says looking up at the sign in nostalgia. “This camp is where I was trained.”

“Change much?”

“A little…”

I wonder around, scanning the area for any thing to indicate a power source. “This is a dead end. Zero heat signatures, zero waves. Not even radio. Whoever created the file must have used a router to throw people off.” I tuck the scanner in my back pocket and the Captain looks up at me then shifts his gaze to behind me, frowning. “What is it?”

He starts walking and I follow. “Army regulations forbid storing munitions within 500 yards of the barracks. This building’s in the wrong place.” He breaks the lock with his shield and we enter as it leads us underground.

I turn on the lights and it reveals the insignia painted on the wall. “This was SHIELD. The early days, after it evolved from the Strategic Scientific Reserve,” I say, recognizing the outdated logo.

We wander around, finding a wall of three portraits. “The three founders.” He looks at me. “What? The history is one of the things they teach at the academies. Colonel Philips, Howard Stark and Margaret Carter.”

“There are academies?”

“Three. Very tough admission.”

Rogers spots something and looks closer. “If you’re already working in a secret office…” he pushes the shelves apart. “Why do you need to hide the elevator?”

Using my SHIELD issued code breaking device I type in the code for the elevator which takes us down even further to a room of computers, monitors and servers.

“This can’t be right… this equipment is ancient how could it be used to make the files?”

There was one place that looked like it came from this century and I decide to take a risk and plug in the usb drive. The servers whir and more lights come on.

“Initiate system?” a computerized voice says.

Yes, I type. “Creepy.” As we wait for the system to boot up I smirk. “Shall we play a game?” I laugh at myself. “It’s from a movie that was really pop-“

“I know,” he interrupts. “I saw it.”

A camera moves to Rogers and a voice recites his name and year of birth. Then it turns to me and does the same.

“Is this the AI that was blocking my commands back at the mall?” I say looking closer.

“I may not be the man I was back when the Captain took me in 1945 but I am.” A photo appears on one of the other screens.

“You know this… thing?”

“Arnim Zola was a German Scientist who worked for the Red Skull.”

“He’s been dead for years,” I add, remember something of the history lessons.

“First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive.” The robot voice recounts his end of life story and how he uploaded his consciousness into databanks.

“How did you get here?”

“By invitation.”

“It was Operation Paperclip after World War II. SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic value. Always thought they shoulda just locked them all up… we probably wouldn’t be in this mess if they did.”

“HYDRA would have died with the Red Skull.”

“Cut off one head… two more shall take its place,” I recite their mantra aloud.

“When history did not cooperate… history was changed.” A flurry of photos of the Winter Soldier in the back ground of significant political events appear on the screens.

“That’s impossible, SHIELD would have stopped you,” I say, moving closer.

“Accidents would happen.” News of Howard and Maria Stark’s car accident shows up next.

Rogers punches the screen as Zola provokes him.

Does that mean…? I don’t finish the thought as the mad scientist explains what the drive contains.

“What kind of algorithm? What does it do?” I ask.

The doors begin to close as Steve is too late to throw his shield. A beeping comes from my communicator, detecting something. “Steve, we got a bogey. Short range ballistic 30 seconds tops.”

“Who fired it?”

“SHIELD.” I pull out the drive and Steve pulls a grate from the floor. I jump in and he follows, putting the shield up above us as rubble rains down on us. He strains against the weight of it all and the debris settles.

💖💖

Thank you for reading!

I'll be gone until Monday again but I'll try to write on my phone!! I have literally never been so busy throughout this summer until now!

Chapter 4

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #x reader #steve rogers x platonic!reader #flirty!reader #marvel #mcu #marvel rewrite #captain america #winter soldier #catws rewrite #reader insert #fanfic #enemies to lovers #slowburn

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tryingmyves · 3 years ago

Text

Sober

DENKI KAMINARI x Y/N

part two

A/N: A fic inspired by Wish You Were Sober by Conan Gray (I swear they put crack in this song). You’ve been in love with Denki Kaminari for as long as you can remember and he only seems to think of you as more than a friend when he’s inebriated. Simple, right?

sorry this chapter got a bit long but things are getting ~spicy~

c/w: alcohol mention, smut (soon)

chapter 1

[FOUR MONTHS AGO]

Technically, classes wouldn’t start for three more days, so you weren’t quite a college student. But you and Kaminari came to the city early because the lease on his apartment was starting and you needed to meet someone from Craig’s List about the car you plan to buy. To be honest, the car was what you expected: a piece of shit. But it would get you to your part time job and back to campus, so what more could you ask for? You couldn’t move into your dorm until tomorrow, but Kaminari said you could stay with him for the night. His roommate Kirishima hadn't moved in yet, so he had extra space.

Aside from the brief meeting with the stranger you bought your car from, you and Kaminari spent the day hauling cheap furniture up four flights of stairs into his apartment. Both of you were utterly exhausted. You were both covered in the grime of your own sweat; countless trips up and down the stairs had left your legs burning and heavy. When you agreed to help Kaminari move in you didn’t expect that he'd have so much shit, or that his apartment would be on the top floor of a building with no elevator. But at the current juncture you were too fatigued to complain. The two of you are laying on your backs, sprawled out on the cold wooden floor of the living room, unpacked boxes surrounding you.

“I feel disgusting,” you complain, raising your head slightly off the ground and unsticking the mat of sweaty hair from the back of your neck. You push it upwards so it fans out above your head.

“Yeah, you smell kind of disgusting too,” Kaminari replies with a laugh that becomes a cough when your arm swings down to connect with his stomach.

“I think you mean, “gee Y/N, thanks so much for helping me move into my apartment! I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Kaminari raises himself up on his elbows, still recovering from your blow. “Hey - I have your thank you, it’s just in one of these boxes. Alcohol tends to be the universal thank you for helping a friend move - plus I don’t have wifi until tomorrow, so tonight we’re getting drunk and celebrating as college students!” he smiles.

You let out a sigh, “Well I hope you have ice. Find my thank you gift - I’m going to go break in your shower,” you say rising from the floor, “but not because you said I smell. Only because I want to!”

Kaminari laughs as you make your way to the bathroom, pulling himself off the floor as well to start rooting through the cardboard boxes full of his belongings. You lock the bathroom door behind you and spend a few moments deciphering how to use the unfamiliar shower. You start the water, a bit cooler than usual, still feeling balmy from all of today’s physical activity. After moving all of Denki’s belongings into the apartment you didn’t remember to grab anything of your own, so you would be using his toiletries to wash up. You throw a thin towel on the back of the toilet before stepping into the refreshing stream of water. The water cascades down your face, snaking down the curves of your body before disappearing down the drain. A sigh escapes your lips, thankful for a small moment of relaxation after a long day. You get to work washing your hair and scrubbing the day's sweat off of yourself, wrapped in the scent of cedarwood and lemon, something you’ve long associated with Kaminari. After roughly fifteen minutes you feel sufficiently clean and turn off the shower, stepping out to towel yourself off.

Not wanting to put your dirty clothes back on, you sneak out of the bathroom with your towel wrapped around you and down the hall to Kaminari’s room. You snatch a t-shirt and pair of sweats out of an opened box and creep back to the bathroom to get dressed and brush out your hair. You pull the over-sized shirt on, relishing the traces of Denki’s cologne that linger on the fabric and step into the sweats. You rake a comb through your wet tresses before re-emerging from the bathroom. You find Kaminari in his kitchen, haphazardly unpacking a box of cutlery with a mixed drink in his hand.

“Did you break into my thank you present without me, Denki?”

He turns at the sound of your voice, “Well maybe if you hadn’t taken so long -” He stops, registering you’re now in his clothes instead of your own. “Hah, nice threads,” he laughs.

You grab the hem of the shirt, holding it out from you a bit as if you're presenting it. “Yeah, well my shower wasn’t going to do much good if I got back into my sweaty clothes, so I helped myself.”

“Seems to be a recurring theme tonight. I don’t mind, you look cuter in it than I do anyway,” he winks at you. “Now,” he slides a second cup across the counter towards you, “thanks for helping me move in. Let’s get drunk!”`

You smile as you place the cup to your lips for a drink, your mind buzzing even without the alcohol. You’ve been friends with Denki long enough to know that he is always flirting, even if he doesn’t mean anything by it. Usually you just brush off his comments or turn the tables with a line of your own, hoping to get him flustered. But lately you haven’t been able to ignore the flutters in your chest at his words. The pair of you have been friends since middle school and you’ve grown accustomed to people assuming you’re more than that. But in reality, things between you and Denki have always been platonic, despite the incessant flirting. However, you want there to be more. His golden eyes draw you into him and he can so effortlessly make you laugh. For you, home isn’t a static location but wherever Denki happens to be.

“Woah Y/N, I didn’t mean you had to chug it!”

Denki’s comment snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve drunk nearly half of your drink while lost in silent longing. You lower the cup, “Well you have a headstart on me!” you reason, not wanting to tell Denki he’s the reason you got lost in your cups.

“Fair enough, but head start or not, I’m drinking you under the table tonight,” he challenges. “Let’s play some Mario Kart! I set up the switch while you were in the shower.”

“Fine, but if you’re wanting to get drunk we’re playing Beer-i-o Kart.”

Kaminari huffs, “well, obviously.” He grabs a bottle of whiskey in addition to his own cup and heads to the couch, you following close behind.

The rules of the game are simple: you win if you’re the first person to cross the finish line but you have to finish your drink before the end of the race. Even in the world of Mario Kart, drinking and driving is a no go, so there’s a few different options on how to play. You can either chug your drink at the start, put your controller down mid race to slam your drink, or stop just before the finish line on lap three to empty your cup. You can also drink while you’re put back on the track if you somehow manage to drive off the course. Both you and Denki are highly competitive, and while he might think he has the monopoly on video games, your skills rival his.

Unsurprisingly, Denki picks the Lightning Cup as it’s both a nod to his quirk and he’s a sadist who actually enjoys rainbow road. He beats you handily in the first two races, able to finish his drink slightly quicker than you, but you manage to win the Grumble Volcano race. He hits pause before the final race can start so he can mix two more drinks. You laugh as he nearly drops his own cup, his cheeks pink from all the liquor.

“Oh shut it, Y/N, or you can make your own drink.”

“Aw, don’t be bitter just because you lost that one Denki!” you tease.

He hands your now full cup back to you, “Yeah well this next one’s all mine. You’re going down!”

You just stick your tongue out in response and ready yourself for the last race. Once you’ve both situated yourself, Denki unpauses the game and the countdown begins. He immediately starts chugging his drink but you peel out from the starting line. You know you’ll fall off the map several times, so you might as well use that time effectively by drinking then. Denki finishes the freshly poured drink in under 30 seconds and is already in hot pursuit. He manages to pass you on the first lap and despite the multiple red shells you send his way, you can’t catch up. You’re not sure if it’s your competitive nature or the copious amounts of alcohol that influence your next move, but you shift from your seat on the couch and plant yourself directly in Denki's lap, blocking his view of the screen and making him drive off the road.

“Y/N, you cheater!!” Denki squirms beneath you, trying to dislodge you from your new position.

You laugh, “We never said this was against the rules!”

You zip past his character as he’s being lowered back onto the track, a triumphant hah! announcing you’ve overtaken him.

“Well in that case, neither is this!” Denki’s hands grip at your sides, his fingers poking at all your most ticklish spots. You shriek in surprise and jump from his lap, desperate to get away from the sudden assault. You land on the couch, laying on your back, but Denki doesn’t relent. He crawls between your legs and bares over you with a wicked grin on his face before bringing his hands to your sides once more.

Now you’re squirming beneath him, a breathless ball of laughter, your game forgotten in the background. When Denki finally stops tickling you his face is no more than a foot from your own. Your better judgement goes out the window, forced out by the haze of your laughter and half a bottle of alcohol. You wrap an arm around the back of Denki’s neck and pull his lips to yours. You can feel the smile on his face as he opens his mouth, tracing at your lips with the tip of his tongue. You part your lips, allowing him inside. His lips are soft and you're not sure whether or not he activated his quirk but you’re feeling sparks.

He separates from you, nipping at your bottom lip as he does. His forehead resting on your own he whispers, “I’ve always wondered what that would be like. It’s better than I thought.”

The low hush in his voice makes your breath catch. “What else have you wondered about?”

“Well if kissing you is this good, I can only wonder what you’re like in bed.”

You press your lips to his again, “one way to find out,” you say through the kiss.

At that, Kaminari grabs your thighs and stands from the couch, hoisting you to his waist. He carries you down the hallway towards his bedroom, kissing you the whole way. As you cross the threshold of his room he separates from you, “say less.”

#denki kaminari x y/n #denki kaminari x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero #boku no hero academia #denki kaminari #by ves #fan fic writing #fan fic blog

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

Lost & Found - 13

Pairing: Park Jimin x soulmate (oc)

Warnings: Insecurity, anxiety, abandonment, oc feels like she’s gonna puke which, honestly, same

Word Count: 5.3k

a/n: we’ve only got a few chapters left!!!! *cue the screaming*

Chapter 13. You Never Walk Alone

series masterlist

I’ve never been one to follow the rules.

In fact, I’ve wondered many times if I came into existence for the sole purpose of breaking as many rules as possible within a short amount of time.

However, as I sit here staring down at my phone and listening to it ringing without someone answering on the other end, I find myself promising whoever is listening to my prayers that I’ll obey every rule to come my way for the rest of my life as long as someone just answers me.

For hours, no one does.

By the time the moon has risen, I’ve finally dozed off on the couch with my phone still in hand and a very confused Elle on my stomach. When my phone begins to ring, I jump, nearly falling off of the couch in the process.

Without even bothering to see who is calling me, I bring the phone up to my ear.

“Yah, hyung. I’m already- oh...Jolie?”

I blink, wondering for a moment if this is all some cruel dream. “...Jimin? What’s going on- what happened?”

“You’re safe- she’s safe, hyung.” There’s chatter in the background, but my ears perk up at a familiar voice. “I’m so sorry, you must have been worried sick- hey!”

“Jolie?”

I jump off the couch, eyes wide. “Chung-hei?! What’s going on? Why haven’t you been answering your phone? I- I thought…”

I don’t quite know what I thought. Obviously, that the worst had transpired. Chung-hei knows exactly what path my thoughts have taken, as she’s quick to explain.

“I’m so sorry, Jolie. When we left your place Sunmi noticed that someone was tailing us,” my breath comes up short. “I think they thought you were with us, they might have been tailing the car for the past couple of days to make sure it was yours. And then they probably saw Christina…”

She doesn’t need to explain that to me. No doubt whoever was tailing them saw Christina with her severed thread and automatically assumed that she was Jimin’s estranged soulmate.

“So what happened? Is everyone ok? Is Christina alright?”

There’s some fumbling on the other side of the phone, and I swear I hear Chung-hei’s annoyed sigh but it’s quickly covered as another familiar voice breaks through the phone.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me!” Christina shouts a little unnecessarily.

“I- how did you hear me?” I ask, furrowing my brows. “Am I on speaker?”

There’s a long pause in which I know that I must be on speaker, especially as a voice that sounds mysteriously like Kim Seokjin shouts “Yeah you are we wanted to know what you sound like!” There’s a muffled grunt in which I can imagine someone giving him a firm elbow to the ribs.

“Hang on, let me step outside-” Christina’s suggestion is met with a load of whining, but she must ignore them because a second later all is silent save for the sound of wind. “There. I needed to get out of there- I’m freaking out. I’m so dying right now.”

“I’m sure you’re rattled, you were literally just tailed! How did you lose them?”

“Oh, yeah. That sucked, but I was talking about the fact that I literally just met BTS. I don’t want to spoil anything for you, but Park Jimin is so much more handsome in person. I couldn’t hardly think straight in there-”

“Yeah, yeah,” I groan, burying my face in my hands. “Save it for later. I was a mess over here, thinking you’d died or something. Can you please explain what went on?”

Once she subsides in her giggling - and I get over the strange butterflies that have somehow come to life in my stomach - Christina gets to the point.

“Right...well, we’d only made it a couple of blocks before Sumni noticed that someone was following us. She’s been trained to pick up on that kind of stuff, you know. She said that they’d been hiding out near your apartment earlier, and that it looked like they’d been waiting the entire time while we’d been inside.”

“So how’d you lose them?”

“She drove straight toward the Bighit building and contacted the security there. By the time the people tracking us knew that she was leading them into a trap, it was too late. They got pulled over, security took them over to the police department a little while ago.”

I shiver thinking about them lurking outside of my apartment, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

“And...why didn’t you answer my calls, then? I seriously was about to go running around Seoul looking for you.”

Christina barks a laugh. “That’d be a sight to see. We were told to power off our phones, they’re being looked at right now to make sure they weren’t able to somehow get a way to track us through there. We should get them back pretty soon.”

Taking a seat and then slinking down to sprawl out on the couch, I sight at the ceiling. My eyes well up tears of relief, but I close my eyes to stop them from escaping. “I’m happy you’re safe.”

“Me too. The boys were already at the Bighit building, you should’ve seen Jimin. He was-” Christina lowers her voice as though suddenly realizing that she’s not that far from the man in question, “You know how the boys say that he can be really scary when he’s angry?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I believe them now. I think it was a good thing security took those people away before he could see them. He probably would have killed them, he looked so pissed off.”

I snort out a laugh, throwing my hand over my mouth. “Let me guess, that only made him more attractive to you?”

“You know what, it totally did.”

It feels good to laugh after the stress of the day, so I let it out. Giggling up a storm with Christina who admits that she may be wavering in her undying devotion for Jimin simply because of the fact that Taehyung offered her a glass of lemonade.

“Oh, oh! He’s looking at me- oh. He’s telling me to come back inside.” I let out another guffaw at Christina’s massive crush on Taehyung. “Hey, I have to turn you back over to your soulmate now, but I’ll let you know when I get my phone back. Ok?”

“Ok,” I mumble, suddenly going quiet. There’s some static as the phone is exchanged, and suddenly Jimin’s speaking to me.

“Hey...you doing ok?”

I blink, taken aback by his question. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Then, when he doesn’t respond, “Are you...alright?”

From the way the voices in the background are fading, Jimin must be moving away to find a more private location. Indeed, I again hear Seokjin’s teasing voice in the background however it’s too muffled to understand.

“Yeah. All good over here.” I hear a door click shut. “There’s something I need to talk to you about, though. About everything that happened today. You might not like it, but...well, it’s for your own safety.”

This has me sitting up straight, bracing for whatever it is he’s about to say. “Ok…”

“We need you to stay inside, don’t leave your house. Just for a couple of days, maximum. We don’t know if these people had more that were trying to track you, and until we can round them all up…”

I stare blankly at the wall in front of me. Stay here? No work?

Honestly, it doesn’t sound that bad.

Except for one little thing.

“...Jolie?”

“I...I’m not sure, Jimin.”

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry,” it makes it so much worse, because I can hear just how sorry he is. “But please, just for a few days. We need- I need you safe.”

How can I say no to that?

“Alright.”

“You’ll do it? I’ll have groceries delivered, just text me what you need-”

“I’m pretty sure I can pay for my groceries, Jimin,” I say with a strained smile, eyeing the calendar on the wall and the circled date just a couple of days from now. Hopefully all of this will blow over by then. “Don’t worry.”

“Honestly, if you don’t send me a grocery list I’ll just end up sending random food to your apartment. So take your pick, I guess.”

Rolling my eyes fondly, I give an over exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’ll compile a list.”

✂

The girls get their phones back not long after I finish my conversation with Jimin. Sunmi is quick to send me a play by play of Christina’s growing crush, which helps to ease the worry growing in the pit of my stomach.

The next morning there’s a pile of groceries waiting outside on my doorstep, making me smile softly. Jimin had clearly added a few items to my small list, because I don’t remember requesting a bag of chocolates or a bag of Doritos. Either way, I’ll take it.

There isn’t a whole lot to do with my day off, other than find a new show to watch and different ways to annoy Elle. Jimin texts me throughout the day, and I find myself itching to call him.

If only to just hear his voice for a moment.

However, as my fingers hover over the call button, I find myself hesitating. It scares me just how quickly I want to interact with him. After all that I did to distance myself from him, I’ve been reduced to an insatiable fangirl after a bouquet of flowers and some slipped chocolates.

Staring at my phone, I try my best to control my breathing. Then I send off a message.

Me: Ok, help. I’m freaking out.

Christina is quick to respond.

Christina 🍯: hahahahaha

Me: what.

Me: I come to you for help and I get laughed at? 😡

Christina 🍯: no, it’s just...when are you not freaking out?

Christina 🍯: think about it

Christina 🍯: you always are lol

Me: Ok. Not helping. Remember, I came to you for help?

Christina 🍯: right right, what’s up

Me: I think this is all happening too fast

Christina 🍯: I’m assuming this is about Park Jimin?? Who, might I add, looked fiiiine in his sweats yesterday

Me: QUIT IT

Me: I’M GROWING WEAK

Christina 🍯: are you feeling things?!! 😱

Me: YES OK I AM PLS HELP

Christina 🍯: I don’t see why you need help…?

Christina 🍯: isn’t this a good thing?

Me: is it?

Christina 🍯: ...yes.

Christina 🍯: what brought this on?

Me: I want to call him.

Christina 🍯: ….

Me: We just talked last night.

Christina 🍯: ….

Me: well, isn’t it all a bit much? I mean, I literally was trying to be completely separated from him just a few weeks ago and now I’m suddenly having to remind myself that I don’t need to constantly talk to him! Isn’t that like a bit...idk, a bit sketchy??

Christina 🍯: no.

Christina 🍯: idk if you remember this, but he’s your soulmate. And sometimes when people start to meet their soulmates, they want to talk all the time.

Me: isn’t it going to annoy him? I mean, I already kinda feel like a pity case…

Christina 🍯: first off, no. you’re not a pity case, so stop thinking that. If anyone’s a pity case, it’s me because I was invited to lunch today with Chung-hei nd the boys and I’m gonna ride this out for as long as possible

Christina 🍯: if I could sneak you a picture of Tae without looking like a creep, I totally would 😰

Me: ok, I don’t know how to respond to that lolll

Me: have fun at lunch though!!! Don’t drool or anything

Christina 🍯: yeah, let’s move past that 😂

Christina 🍯: just, call him. Honestly, he’s been checking his phone constantly anyways. And, don’t you think he deserves it? Call him. You know I don’t mean this in a rude way but...he’s done everything in this weird relationship-that’s-not-a-relationship so far. Time for you to return the favor.

✂

“...Jimin?”

Jimin blinks, looking around the table until his eyes land on who was just calling his name. Chung-hei smiles at him from her spot beside Namjoon.

“Yes?”

It’s when everyone starts to giggle that he realizes he must have missed something.

“How’re you doing over there?” Chung-hei asks. Jimin frowns.

“...good. How are you?”

Namjoon places his arm on the back of Chung-hei’s chair, and Jimin notices the way her cheeks automatically redden.

“You seem a little distracted today,” Namjoon croons. “That’s all.”

Looking around at everyone’s amused faces, Jimin notices one face that isn’t looking in his direction.

Christina is smiling slightly at her phone, fingers flying across the screen as she texts out a message.

“Christina’s distracted too!” Jimin points to the girl like a kindergartener, a sly smile on his face when she looks up at him with raised brows.

“Hey, it’s for a good reason,” she says.

“Oh?” Taehyung leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. “And what would that be?”

Everyone notices the way Christina looks at Taehyung before quickly looking away, as though looking at him for too long could burn her. Like a moth to a candle, though, she can’t quite stay away.

“His soulmate,” she finally says, pointing an accusing finger right back at him. “I’m helping her through an existential crisis or something.”

Jimin automatically scoots forward, concern written across his face. “What’s going on? Does she need something?”

Christina snorts as a text - a text from Jolie, apparently - comes through on her phone. “No. She’s fine. Just needs to get out of her head. I suspect that sitting cooped up in the house isn’t helping.”

Ah.

It had hurt to have to order her to stay home, he knew how much that could hurt. Sure, some people might not have a problem with it. But something told him that there were only so many distractions in Jolie’s small apartment that could keep her entertained. Hopefully it would all be over soon.

And then what?

That was the question that had been plaguing him today. How long would he be forced to run this same track over and over again? How long until they were both ready to face each other?

They were going to face each other, right?

Christina sits back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, looking quite pleased with herself.

“What are you so happy about?” Jimin asks, leaning back and crossing his arms. Christina merely looks at him and then down at his phone which sits atop the table.

Just like magic, it begins to ring.

“O-oh, uh…” Jimin scrambles to his feet, nearly tipping over his water in the process. Grabbing his phone, he looks for the quickest exit.

“Why don’t you just stay in here?” Jin asks, ever the prying one. “We can all chat.”

Jimin pays him no mind, heading straight for the door and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?” He prays he sounds nonchalant.

“Aish, he’s already so over-protective,” Hobi calls out loud enough for Jolie to hear on the other side of the phone.

“Hyung! At least wait until I’m out of the room!” Jimin shouts back, finally slipping out into the hallway. Jolie’s laugh is enough to make him smile.

“Sounds like you’re having fun,” she teases.

Jimin sighs, leaning his head back against the wall. “So much. How are you? Have you gone stir-crazy yet?”

There’s a moment’s silence. “Yes. Definitely. I think by about eight o’clock this morning, actually.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

Another moment of silence, in which Jimin scrambles for something - anything to say in order to keep her on the phone.

“Did you, uh, get the groceries?” It’s a pointless question; he was notified this morning when they were dropped off.

“Oh! I did! And I saw some chocolate…? And Doritos. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Jimin grins. “Nope. No clue.”

“Huh. Interesting. I could have sworn you’d added them in there. What are you trying to do, make me fall in love with you or something?”

Of course, the answer is yes. Can he say that, though?

Aren’t they supposed to be taking this slow? Why did nobody tell him that it would be this hard to do something so simple?

“Sorry...was that awkward?”

Jimin starts at the sound of Jolie’s voice, realizing that he never responded. “Er, no. Sorry, I was just thinking.” He chuckles awkwardly. “Is chocolate all it takes, then?”

He swears he can hear a gasp on the other side of the phone, but then again that may just be wishful thinking.

Either way, he temporarily throws caution to the wind. He knows he’s toeing the line, but he can’t find it in himself to back off. Not when he can hear Jolie’s soft laugh on the other side of the phone and wonders if she’s wearing that same smile he saw for a fraction of a second all those weeks ago.

“Well, it’s a good start. Obviously the chips were a bonus.”

“Ah, yeah. I thought those might be a nice touch.” He pauses. “Hey, are your flowers still doing good? Or are they dead?”

“I feel like I’m in danger of receiving more flowers if these ones are dead,” Jolie muses.

“Danger? Really?”

“You know you don’t have to keep me in constant supply of flowers, right? Besides, I’m planning on drying the ones I have now.”

“Consider it a present for making you stay inside for so long.”

Jolie hums on the other side, and Jimin finds himself nodding along to the sound. “About that...any updates? Do I have any more stalkers?”

Jimin shivers at the thought. He’s dealt with his fair share of stalkers over the years, he’s had quite enough of them. “Nothing yet, but we should know more by tonight at the latest. I’ll be sure to call you as soon as I know.”

It’s quiet on the other side, but Jimin allows some time for the quiet to settle. When he doesn’t get a response back for a while, he quietly speaks.

“Hey, you alright over there?”

There’s a long sigh, one that he thinks he wasn’t supposed to hear. “Mm? Oh, yeah. All good. You good?”

Jimin smiles. “All good.”

✂

House arrest doesn’t suit me. It’s going on day three, and I’ve found that the thrill of television isn’t what it used to be. Especially not as the pile of empty chocolate wrappers grow.

I told Jimin as much last night before I went to bed. I also accused him of trying to make me gain weight. He only cackled and told me he’d send over healthier foods in the morning.

I should have known it sounded too good to be true. This morning I checked my porch to see a suspicious grocery bag with bananas and apples on the top. Upon further inspection I found that the fruit was only a cover for what lay underneath.

Two more bags of assorted chocolates.

Oh, and a note that Jimin must have added for the deliverer which was left on the bag. It simply said: delivery request: please hide chocolate under the fruit.

“I can’t believe it.”

“Wow, so are we past saying hello when we call? I don’t know how I feel about that.”

I try to ignore how easy - how right - it feels to just grab my phone and call Jimin up. There are still a fair amount of nerves going into it, but over the past few days we’ve grown accustomed to it.

“You sent me more chocolate!”

“Buuut I countered it with fruit. Isn’t that good?”

I roll my eyes. “Sure, but the fact that you’re forcing me to practice self-restraint is absolutely horrible.

“Ah, I see. So next time I should just send the apples?”

“No…”

I find a comfortable spot on the couch, staring at the calendar before me. Staring at the date, with a little circle around it.

Nothing to celebrate today. But certainly something to remember.

Jimin’s rambling - he rambles, I’ve come to learn this - about his day and how they have an interview coming up this weekend, however I find that I’m struggling to listen. Especially as the calendar grows larger and larger in my eyes.

I wait until it’s dark to slip out.

With my pre-ordered train ticket shining on my phone, I keep my head down and my hood up as I rush to the station. At this time of night on a weekday, there aren’t nearly as many people about. That being said, it’s still Seoul. There are still plenty of people on the sidewalks, and I can only pray that they don’t notice my lack of a red thread amidst the sea of threads adorning the roads.

Thankfully, I make it to the station without much of an issue. It isn’t long before I’m settled and holding the dried hydrangeas close to my chest.

It isn’t a long ride to my hometown, only about twenty minutes by train. Throughout the entire time I remain on high alert, knowing that if I somehow wind up in trouble that Bighit may very well murder me in my sleep.

I watch as the train rolls to a stop at my destination, and I hurry off before anyone can notice me. Once I’m outside, I let out a sigh of relief.

It’s been too long.

One year, actually.

The cemetery isn’t far from the station, and I don’t dare risk a taxi. So, with my flowers still in hand, I begin my silent pilgrimage.

✂

Not much has changed here. I peeked the same family that runs the sweet shop I used to adore, constantly begging for just enough won for some sweets. The streets even look the same, only a few small changes here and there.

It’s the fact that this was my home but that I don’t quite belong here anymore that makes my feet all the heavier. When the cemetery finally comes into view, I take a deep breath and trudge onward.

Coming to a stop before a small tombstone, I groan and kneel before it. It was a longer walk than I remembered.

“Hey Mom,” I whisper, taking care to gently separate the bouquet in half and lay some flowers on either side. “Dad.” Once the flowers are in their proper places, I lean back on my hands.

“I’m not really supposed to be outside right now...but, I promised I’d visit every year, didn’t I?” I look expectantly at the tombstone, but receive no answer. The stone is cold and unwavering, but I find that I don’t mind. The moon is bright and full, shining down enough light to see clearly. “Well, I’m here. I would have brought you some fresh flowers but...well, things are a little complicated right now.”

Inhaling deeply, I chew on my bottom lip before exhaling. As I do, my vision blurs a bit with unshed tears. Finally, bringing my left hand forward, I look down at the severed thread.

“Mom, you wouldn’t know who he is, but I met my soulmate. Well, not officially, I guess. That’s where things get complicated. But I’m trying to fix it.” Looking heavenward, I watch the stars winking down at me. “Dad, you’ll know him. His name is Park Jimin.”

✂

“What do you mean she’s not home?”

Jimin is currently pacing in the living room, listening to Sunmi’s voice on speaker. The others sit in various spaces around the room, each mirroring a look of concern.

Sunmi had been cleared to head over to Jolie’s, which Jimin had deemed a tender mercy. He felt horrible for her, knowing that she was probably going crazy. So, Sunmi had gone over to surprise her.

Except there was one little problem.

“I’m telling you, she’s not here,” Sunmi responds, struggling to maintain her composure. “I got here about ten minutes ago and knocked, but all the lights were off and it looked like nobody was home. Nobody’s answering. She’s not here, and she won’t answer her phone.”

Jimin looks around the room in horror. Automatically his mind conjures up the worst-possible scenarios. “Where would she go? There’s no sign of a break-in, right?”

Chung-hei frowns on the other side of the room, pulling her phone out. “I’ll check her location right now,” she reassures.

“No, everything looks normal. Should I ask around? See if anyone’s seen her?”

“No, not yet. That will only raise suspicion.” Jimin says, watching with bated breath and Chung-hei tries to locate his soulmate.

When Chung-hei’s expression changes from confused worry to stunned understanding, Jimin isn’t sure how to react.

“What is it?” He asks, impatient.

“I didn’t realize,” Chung-hei mumbles. “What’s the date today?” She answers the question herself, confirming it. “She’s back home.”

“What do you mean? Sunmi just said-”

“No, not that home.” Chung-hei flips the phone around to show him. “It’s been a year. And she promised him she’d visit every year.”

It takes a moment for Jimin to process the information, already thinking about how quickly he can convince someone to tail him while he drives out to Jolie. She can get in the other car to return, obviously so she doesn’t have to see him-

“One year.” Jimin blinks, suddenly remembering what Jolie mentioned in her letter. “It’s the anniversary of her father’s passing.”

Chung-hei’s solemn nod is answer enough.

Jimin stumbles back to sit in the nearest chair, rubbing his hands over his face. “I need to go out there-”

“No, you know you can’t do that,” Namjoon immediately rejects.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

Namjoon grinds his jaw, glancing at Chung-hei as the two share a silent conversation. When Namjoon’s shoulders relax, Jimin finds himself hoping. There’s no way he can leave Jolie to go through this alone.

“Bang Sihyuk will kill us if he finds out,” Namjoon begins.

“I don’t care-”

“I do.” Namjoon sighs. “So don’t get caught.”

Jimin blinks. “What?”

Namjoon shrugs, looking around the room. “Don’t get caught. Make it look like you snuck out.”

Leaping to his feet, Jimin hardly has time to grab his jacket before he’s flying out the door. “Send me the location!” He shouts out before the door closes.

He doesn’t know what possesses him as he sprints down the street, but he’s reminded of the last time he went running toward his soulmate.

This time, he knows that he’s been through the heartbreak. Surely he’s been through the worst of it. Now, all that’s on his mind is the fact that his soulmate is alone and she shouldn’t be.

He’s tired of being alone.

It’s been years since Jimin last took the train, but Chung-hei explains in her text containing Jolie’s location that it might be his best bet.

Without a second thought, Jimin boards the train and heads toward his soulmate.

✂

My eyelids are drooping, but the walk back to the train station seems daunting. “I need to get going,” I mumble.

My voice is a little hoarse from all the talking I’ve done over the past hour. Even in death, my parents can’t escape my rambling.

Not that I think they mind.

I rise to my feet, taking one last look at the flowers that my soulmate gifted me before leaving them there on the tombstone.

“Goodnight, Mom and Dad.”

Despite my exhaustion, I remember to walk briskly back toward the gas station. I keep my head down with my hands in my pocket.

My heart feels a little heavy tonight. I shoot a melancholy smile toward the stars, who act as my solitary companion tonight. I can’t shake the feeling that I would really rather not be alone tonight.

Nobody deserves to mourn alone.

My fingers itch to call Jimin or Christina or anybody, but I put it off. I had my phone on silent, and the last thing I needed was bringing attention to myself by talking loud enough for everyone to hear. If Jimin found out that I was out here…

He’d probably stop sending me chocolates. At the very least.

Yes, it would be best to wait until I’m home and in the warmth of my bed before calling him.

Like a dream, my feet carry me toward the train station. It’s downhill for the most part, making it easier than I thought it would be. A tender mercy, I suppose, for a day like today.

Thankfully, it’s late enough now that the station is empty for the most part. Only a few stragglers wander about, all of which are too tired to pay me any mind. However, as I near the ticket booth, I feel it.

Almost like something pulling on my thread. It’s a similar feeling to what I felt as the thread had been cut, but there’s no reason for it to be acting up again.

“That’ll be 26,000 won,” the person on the other side of the booth drawls, looking for all the world like they’d rather walk across hot coals then have to spend another moment here.

“Oh, right.” I pull the money from my wallet, sliding it under the little window. “Sorry about that, I got distracted-”

“Here ya go,” they interrupt, clearly not very interested in what was distracting me. All the better, I suppose.

Thanking them, I pocket the ticket and make my way to a bench before the platform. The train should be here in about fifteen minutes.

But there’s that annoying tug again, nearly pulling my hand off my lap. I frown down at the thread, too tired to put that much thought into it. I’ll have to ask Christina if she’s ever known a thread to act up.

There’s a cold draft in the station, one that only gets worse as an incoming train pulls up and comes to a stop. I keep my head down as the doors open and people begin to file out.

At least, I try to until I’m practically thrown off my seat as my thread pushes and pulls at me. It’s starting to cause a scene, so I hurry off to the side and half-hide behind a pillar. Hopefully nobody will question why I gave up my perfectly nice seat.

Burying my hand in my pocket, I look around to make sure nobody is coming my way when my eyes catch on something- or rather, a lack of something.

Someone walks off the train, however the typical red thread doesn’t accompany them.

That’s not the only thing that alarms me. It’s the fact that I know them.

Park Jimin glides off of the train and looks around, trying to deduce which exit to take. He pulls his phone out to look at something when he drops it due to a sudden jolt.

I watch, utterly paralyzed as he stumbles forward. Almost as though pulled by some invisible thread.

His eyes are wide and he’s practically buried under the large, puffy jacket he wears. It’s brown, to match his brown hair, which is ridiculously ruffled. He’s chewing on the inside of his lips as he lifts his head to look around yet again.

From across the station, our eyes meet. Slowly, so slowly it burns, I see the recognition register in his eyes as he trails from my face down to my left hand and back up to my eyes again.

Jimin freezes, and I realize that it isn’t because he’s afraid or nervous.

This is my choice to make. Even now, after all that’s happened, he still allows me to choose.

So, with a tentative step forward quickly followed by another, I choose him.

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fenristheorem · 4 years ago

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New Era Lance Headcanons

I told myself I wouldn’t do this before episode 4 came out... but here I am.

I originally wanted to wait until ANE episode 4 was out to post any of my own headcanons for Lance, but I know they had a fire at one of their locations recently and that has delayed the release of the episode (my heart goes out to them), so I figured I should just go ahead and post some headcanons because I’ve been dying to do so.

~Headcanons under the cut because these are long~

General:

Twice a year, on their birthday and the anniversary of his death, Lance brings Floppy (because I theorize he adopted Floppy) to visit Valkyon’s grave. Really, this can happen at nearly any time of the year - but seeing as Lance is busy as Chief of Obsidian Guard, he can’t always make time to visit his brother’s grave. However, Lance always makes sure to find time to visit the grave with Floppy on these two special dates. He'll even specifically ask Huang Hua to try and make sure his schedule isn't too busy on these two days. He never says why, but it's not hard to guess.

Lance occasionally talks out loud... to his brother... distantly hoping that - despite the fact that he’s dead - Valk will somehow hear him and by some miracle respond to his brother. He doesn’t do this very often, only when he finds himself caught in a low moment where he feels truly isolated from everyone and the ache to have his brother by his side again echos through him like thunder through a mountain valley, but when he does it means he really needs the comfort. No one in the guard knows this about him; he makes sure that he never does this in public or where anyone could find him doing this. Valkyon’s death effected nearly everyone in the guard, but Lance was still his brother and doesn’t believe most people would understand the full extent of his regrets and, further more, his ways of coping with this great loss.

Lance never visited the re-formed crystal created by Leiftan and Erika. Not once - in all 7 years. He never felt he had the right to because this situation and all his pain was primarily caused by him and, therefore, he needs to bear the pain as part of taking responsibility for his actions. The crystal room became a symbol of hope and forging forward into a new era, and while Lance is grateful for being given a chance to redeem, he's aware that he has a long way to go before he has made up for everything he's done, if he ever could. He feels he needs to find his own hope from within and help guide the guard with it, not rely on the guard and the new crystal to provide him with hope for the future.

Romantic:

Lance is very used to being alone by now. Because of this, he keeps his romantic partner at a distance when they first start off. It’s not that he’s not interested - it’s just that he’s settling into the idea that someone actually wants to be closer to him after everything he’s done, especially the woman he threw off a cliff. He’s not entirely sure how to react to a woman finding romantic interest in him, hell he’s not even sure he deserves it. It's been years since he's allowed himself to consider romantic companionship, so he's widely used to being his own rock. However, once they’ve been together for a while, he’ll trust himself (and her) a bit more and actually allow himself to be a bit more comfortable and minorly impulsive around her. Slowly he’ll allow himself to throw a few jokes around, he’ll allow himself to share his opinion on things around her more, and he’ll find it a little easier to smile each day. Now he’s not one to hide his emotions, but he certainly keeps himself in check to avoid causing damage or pain as he's painfully aware that heavy emotions can influence people. However, this disappears when he begins to trust his partner more; he's less hesitant and more confident that she won't shun him for having strong emotions and opinions on certain things.

Once they’ve been together for a while and his romantic partner has effectively torn down the walls of isolation he built around himself, she’ll find he’s... a bit territorial. After all, he’s allowing himself to become attached to someone for the first time in years; why wouldn’t he be attentive and watchful with his newfound companion? He’s not openly aggressive towards others when jealous or feeling territorial (in the rare case that he is, as he’s learned later on in the relationship that he has nothing to be insecure about), he refuses to bring that sort of disruption to the guard, but he’s certainly not above throwing Guardienne over his shoulder (without his armor on, of course) when he’s reminded of a moment earlier in the day where another man seemed to be just a bit too interested in what she was saying. Pair that with a kind, naive smile from her and a few jokes, and perhaps an encounter with a Leiftan at some point, and you have the perfect combination for a semi-jealous ice dragon who suddenly craves attention from his lover. He’ll take her over his shoulder and saunter over to the nearby bed in who-ever’s room they’re in, lay her gently down and rest himself beside her, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her close to his chest as they settle in to stay like that for minutes to hours depending on how long they have together. She better not hope to leave anytime soon then. Unless they have somewhere to be, Lance is unlikely to let her go for any reasons; he wants her attention and he's going to get it.

Lance is an ice dragon. This is well known by now and he's proud of his heritage. However, with this also comes all the responsibility of being an ice dragon; specifically the instincts. This is also something his partner needs to learn to deal with if they hope to maintain a relationship with him, because he's certainly not about to rebuke himself for having natural instincts (unless it truly begins to become a problem or he accidentally hurts someone). These instincts can range from being very territorial and possessive at certain times and situations, to keeping a special watch on her to make sure she isn't hurt at times where she could be prone to it, or treating her like a living goddess merely because the mood strikes him and he wants to show appreciation for her presence. These are only a few examples. When do these instincts hit hardest? He's still trying to figure that out, seeing that he hasn't been with anyone for a while. However, they can effect him in different degrees. Some days he'll hold her for an extra five minutes longer before she leaves to hang out with Mathieu, Koori and Karenn, other days he'll request that Huang Hua allow him to escort her on a minor mission in the forests surrounding HQ because he wants to do everything he can to protect her and give them time alone together. If they're interrupted on their mission by someone else, Lance will be deathly quiet and still as his partner and the newcomer carry on their conversation, only speaking when spoken too, and he won't be mean, but internally he'll be quite irritated at the fact that their alone-time is being interrupted when he planned for them to be alone for a while. Ideally, his partner will pick up on his distance and wrap up the conversation, and once the newcomer leaves Lance won't hesitate to take his partner by the wrist (gently) and briskly drag her away from the direction of her conversational partner. When he feels they're far away enough, he'll abruptly turn around and press her against a tree, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck with a faint growl. The best thing his partner can do in this time is hold him. He doesn't need comfort or reassurance, he just needs time alone with her. However, that's one of the extremes of his instincts. Most of the time he acts on subtle instincts. He'll pull her into a secluded corner of the guard for a few minutes to talk privately and share a few kisses, or he'll be passing by and see something in the market that she said she needed, or perhaps he sees something he thinks she'll look good with or he knows she'll like, and then track her down after purchasing to gift his find to her. At the end of the day, he just wants her to know he appreciates her, and when the sudden urge to do something with or for her strikes he has a hard time letting it go. And while Lance is very independent and doesn't wish to oppress or suffocate his partner, his instincts can become a bit overbearing at certain times. All his partner needs to do is confide in him about this and he'll try and make them a bit more comfortable (after all, his instincts tell him to care for her before anything else) but she will need to try and tolerate this as much as possible, if it's even an issue to begin with. However, Lance is quite confident that she'll enjoy the intimate side of his instincts more often than the domestic instincts, no matter how she feels about the domestic side...

I’m considering making Lance headcanons a routine post on my page - maybe one or two posts every couple of days. I have a few more headcanons that I can post, and I’m sure I’ll have more after ep. 4 is out, but I’m always open to writing specific headcanons upon request.

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

#eldarya #Eldarya ANE #eldarya lance #Eldarya Lance ane #fenristheorem writing #eldarya lance headcanons

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avaritia-apotheosis · 4 years ago

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Phantom Children Ch.4

In Which: exposition for exposition's sake exists, and Vlad looks way more suspcious than he ought

| AO3 | Prologue | 3 | [4] | 5

VLADIMIR MASTERS. Human male in his mid-forties, and most notably the founder and CEO of VladCo, a billion-dollar industry that mostly specializes in manufacturing weapons and technology. Graduated summa cum laude from the University of Wisconsin despite having to drop out due to a lab accident in his second year, landing him in the hospital. Despite being based primarily in Wisconsin, he made an unexpected move to Amity Park Illinois shortly after reuniting with his college friends Drs. Madeline and Jack Fenton.

Not even a year later, Masters ran for mayor of Amity Park and won the election by a landslide. Suspicious, considering Masters being an unknown and the former mayor Montez being quite popular. It’s during Masters’ tenure in office that reports of ghost attacks to the Justice League steadily died down.

“Why?” Damian asked.

Barbara shrugged, pulling up a few files on the screen. “I originally had a theory that related to VladCo’s buyout of Axion Labs—a technological research and manufacturing company that’s mostly local to Amity—being a factor. Within the last couple of years, they had been experimenting with highly volatile chemicals with hallucinogenic properties. Amity had always been known for being extremely superstitious with its ghosts, and if Axion Labs had somehow accidentally released that chemical into the city, well…” She leaned back into her chair, hand twisting in the air. “You could bet how that ended up. The hysteria around ghosts only grew worse in the last two years, with suspected sightings from once every few weeks to multiple in a single day. Early attempts to capture sightings were unsuccessful, and soon enough Amity Park was just written off.”

Much like the mass hysteria surrounding the urban legend of the kuchisake-onna in Japan in the late 1970s, Bruce thought. He pulled up some news footage from Amity Park dated a few years back of citizens being interviewed about their ghostly encounters. Beside these videos were a few photos taken by a shaky camera, showing bright blurs of light streaking across the sky or vaguely humanoid shapes rising from the ground.

“So VladCo., bought out Axion Labs, improved its security, and slowly helped detoxify the town?” Damian shifted his weight onto his other leg and crossed his arms.

“That’s what I thought, but—”

“But the ghosts ended up being real.” Bruce pulled up a video of a field reporter-slash-weatherman taking cover as a figure dropped from the sky, breaking through the walls of a building. The figure—features distorted by an eerie glow—shot out of the rubble just in time before a green blast hit it.

Oracle enlarged other news footage with a few taps on her keyboard. Beings zooming through the air. Massive plants erupting from the ground. Technology coming to life. Each video more worrying than the last, and most showing some footage of a figure bathed in a white glow. “I’d be hard pressed to call any of these faked.”

It begged the question as to how Amity Park survived this long unscathed. Since, if he remembered correctly, even the Dark Leaguers tended to avoid Amity Park like the plague. “They have their own heroes, then?”

“Think along the lines of vigilantes with unofficial support.” A few more files popped up on screen. One showcased a female in a full-length black and red body suit on top of a hover board. The other was a male; young, perhaps a teenager, with white hair and a black and white suit. Hazmat? “The Red Huntress and the Phantom of Amity Park.”

“Partners?”

“More like enemies working on the same turf. Sources place Phantom as appearing first, though it seems Red Huntress has more government support in the end despite there being no official statement. They seem to be the most effective ghost hunters in town, though far from the only ones. The Fentons of Fenton Works are also acting as ghost hunters, though their track record of success leans more towards their anti-ghost tech than any hunting. The town’s even attracted visitors from the Ghost Investigation Ward; a side branch of Cadmus though a now defunct organization.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Damian said. “If anything, this should be more than enough reason for a League intervention. Why the Justice League didn’t come sooner is the real question here.”

Bruce’s lips thinned. “That’s because we were warned off it.”

“What?”

While there was no rule against heroes entering another hero’s city, there were certain unspoken rules that demanded that JL members avoid claimed cities or stay just outside of city lines until given permission to enter. Some were especially strict about it such as Batman’s ‘no metas or outsiders’ rule. Others were more lenient, simply requesting a warning before entering.

Amity Park, despite having no listed heroes in the database, was marked with heavy ‘Do Not Interact’ warnings for humans and metas alike.

“Justice League Dark said that under no circumstances should the League interfere in Amity. The situation was never explicitly laid out for us except to say that everything was being handled.”

“Oh yeah,” Oracle chimed. “Constantine even had it bolded, underlined, italicized, and in all caps. The occult community was very clear about everyone staying away—and apparently this decision had support from Amity Park too.” She pulled up another document. “That’s probably what led to the decline in their ghost reports, actually. Amity’s claims were considered bogus and brushed aside. No one outside their town—not even their sister town of Elmerton—believed them, so they simply stopped asking for help.”

Strangely, it reminded Bruce of Gotham. Both cities existed in its own isolated sphere, unwilling to let any outsiders interfere in its business.

“It’s safe to assume, then, that whatever Ra’s al Ghul wants with Amity, it has to do with these ghosts. Do we have anyway to contact the town’s vigilantes?”

Oracle shook her head. “Ghost attacks within the past few months have slowly died down along with sightings of Phantom and Red Huntress. Your best bet is asking Masters directly.”

Damian glowered. “Masters blatantly sent out an invitation for Batman to my father. How do we know that Masters hasn’t somehow found our secret identities?”

“Unlikely,” Bruce said. “Vlad Masters, despite his wealth, has done well to keep a low profile. He’s met Bruce Wayne a total of three times within the last decade and Batman not at all.” That, and with the kind of spyware Batman has, he’d be able to tell when, where, and who was trying to dig deep into Batman’s past. Masters hadn’t even registered as a ping.

“Besides, there’s always a few rumors of Wayne Enterprise’s involvement with Batman. All this tech has to come from somewhere, no?”

“How long is Masters staying in Gotham?”

“Umm…” Oracle leaned forward in her chain and flipped through a half-dozen windows. “Going by his reservations at the Gotham Royal Hotel, he’s leaving tomorrow.”

Bruce pivoted on his heel, heading deeper into the Cave. “We better make this count, then.”

------

According to Oracle’s intel, Vlad Masters was staying at one of the executive suites in the Gotham Royal Hotel. A titanic structure with forty-eight floors, two towers, and the gothic aesthetic that never seemed to leave Gotham’s architecture.

Scaling the building as well as entering the suite proved no challenge for Batman and Robin. But upon entrance, it was abundantly clear that the room was vacant.

“Are you sure you guys are in the right room?” Bruce could hear the clicking of Oracle’s keys through their comms. “Masters had reserved the suite on the west tower.”

“Yes we’re in the correct room, Gordon,” Robin hissed.

“Codenames only, Robin.”

Robin clicked his tongue, sweeping the common room for any hidden bugs or cameras as Batman scouted out the rest of the room. The bed was made to hotel standard and the bathroom towels all completely replaced. There were no clothes in the hotel closet or dresser.

The only thing left that indicated occupancy of the room was an unmarked manila envelope unsubtly tucked within a pillowcase.

Robin tensed at the sight of it. “A detonator of some sort?”

Batman rotated the package, holding it up to his scanner. “Doesn’t seem to be. Regardless, it might be better to take it back to the Batcave and locate Masters ag—” The envelope started ringing. A standard ringtone found in most phones. Quickly, but carefully, Batman opened the manila envelope and dumped its contents onto the bed. A ringing burner phone and a flash drive came tumbling out.

Batman threw the flash drive at Robin before answering the phone, holding it up against his ear but saying nothing.

Silence. Then, Masters’ voice filtered in through the phone with a strange echo-like quality. “Good evening, Batman! I’m so glad my invitation managed to get passed along.”

Batman growled into the speaker, “What do you want, Masters?” He signaled Robin to do another sweep of the room for any signs of Masters they might have missed.

“I sincerely apologize for not being there to meet you myself; incredibly rude of me, I know. But it cannot be helped, the shadows are growing ever bolder.”

“So, you are aware then, of the League of Assassins’ presence in Amity Park?”

“A league of assassins? What a terrifying notion that is.” Batman frowned. It was unlikely that they had misread his words at the gala, so why was he acting unaware now? Could he be watched? “Why such a group would appear in my little town, I wouldn’t even dare to guess.”

Robin came back into the room and signaled back ‘negative.’

“Why did you call for us, Mayor Masters?”

“Do you know what is so very tragic, Batman?”

“This is strange,” Oracle said. “I can’t pick up his signal. He’s not appearing on any of my cameras, either.”

“When someone so young dies much to soon.” A pause. “Could you even imagine such a thing? A parent burying their own child.”

Batman could. He had no need to even imagine it because he lived it.

“Some very close friends of mine have been weighed down by the shadows of death and I require help in providing them the closure they need.”

“Are the Fentons the targets, then?”

Masters paused. Then let out a breathy laugh over the phone. “Oh, if only it were that simple.”

“So a different target.”

“Everything you need to know is in the flash drive I’ve enclosed in that envelope Whether you take up the case is entirely up to you—though I do hope you take it. Regardless, if he is not returned soon then I assure you that a disaster unlike any you have seen before will arrive.”

Batman narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat, Masters?”

“No,” He laughed. “That was no threat. That was promise.”

The phone line disconnected just as Oracle exclaimed that she finally found Masters boarding his flight back to Amity Pak.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

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