#Waiting area Display Units

[hannahbarberra162]

Mating Call, Part 2 (Marco x Reader, dubcon, Monster Marco)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The first part

Summary: The World Government has worked hard to obfuscate an interesting fact about Zoan Devil Fruits since the Void Century. In order for a Zoan Devil Fruit to be awakened, the Zoan user must find and claim their mate in accordance with their nature.

Zoan fruit users are driven to find their mates, seeking someone to fill the gnawing need within them, even if they don't recognize it themselves.

~

Thank you to @gouraminnow for reading the rough draft! There's another thank you at the end to avoid chapter spoilers :3

~

You startled awake as a sharp cry pierced through the early morning light, sitting straight up and scanning the area. Your nervous system was on full alert as you quickly looked for the emergency, the instinct ingrained in you after your years in medical school and residency. After a moment, you relaxed as you remembered you were in a cave with the Phoenix. Right, right. Kidnapped by stupid pirates and trapped with the world’s most temperamental fiery bird.

You yawned and stretched, awake for the day. Unfortunately you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now but maybe you’d be able to catch a nap later. You were still resting against the body of the Phoenix, which was more singed on its wings than it had been the day before. You leaned your head back against the Phoenix like it was an armchair. It out a small chirp, almost like a coo.

“You woke me up, you didn’t tell me I have to move yet. You gonna die and be reborn, huh? You better not die on me for real - then your buddies will kill me and I have tickets to see Soul King live in a few months. So just remember to be reborn from the ashes, and all will be well. Hell, I’ll take you with me if you get me out of here,” you said to the Phoenix. Using its flank for support, you stood up to see what Thatch had left for you to eat. You were desperate for some coffee but you wouldn’t get your hopes up. Walking towards the stone slab, you were arrested in your path by the Phoenix’s beak pushing you towards the back of the cave.

“H-hey, wait! I want - I’m hungry!” you pleaded with the Phoenix. It didn’t answer but continued to corral you behind itself. As you got a closer sight of the sharp beak, your jovial tone dropped as you remembered you were dealing with an apex predator. It was getting annoying being moved around like a piece on a chess board but you weren’t going to protest as long as you could see snapped femurs by the far wall.

“P-please! I just need some water,” you begged the bird.  The Phoenix made a sound like a chuff as it pushed you further from your goal. It moved you to the back of the cave and stood up onto its long legs, the razor sharp talons at the end of its feet on full display. Now that it was standing, it took up the majority of the cave only leaving you a few feet for yourself.

Now that it stood up you could see more bones piled behind where it had been sitting, cementing your decision to let it do whatever it wanted without protest. 

Despite the clear danger it presented you, you couldn’t help but admire its long golden tail in the morning light, the golden circles gleaming like coins as it fanned out behind the Phoenix. You tried to shift yourself to a slightly more comfortable position but the Phoenix puffed up, as if offended. It raised its foot, its sharpened talons inches from your face. You were technically a Marine, but you weren’t courageous like the fighting units - you screamed and screwed your eyes shut, awaiting your death like so many before you. 

But it never came.

After a few moments of silence, you opened your eyes a sliver, you found the Phoenix’s foot wrapped around you, its talons close to your side as it curled its toes around you to keep you in place. Despite the proximity of its razor sharp claws to your skin, it hadn’t sliced or mained you in any way. Instead, it had taken one of the canteens in its beak and was dangling by the strap above your head, waiting for you to open your eyes. If you could guess the expression of the Phoenix, you would have said it was amused.

“Oh, um. Thank you?” you said, reaching for the canteen held high above your head. The Phoenix dipped its head down, handing you the water bottle. You grabbed it with shaking fingers before unscrewing the cap. You chugged from the metal container, suddenly realizing how parched you were. You drank until the canteen was empty, the Phoenix dipping its head once more to take the empty container from your hand. 

Now that your thirst was slaked you relaxed in the grasp of talon that was still wrapped around your body. The Phoenix churred and looked at you, as if asking a question. You gave it a look before trying to guess what it was asking.

“Nah, I don’t need food just yet. Not really a breakfast person. I’ll get some later,” you said as you rolled your head on your neck. The Phoenix squawked in reply, making you startle in its grasp. “Or, um, I’ll ask you for some food?” you surmised, scared to upset the giant flaming bird. It trilled softly and started to unclench you from its grasp. It could understand you, so maybe Marco was in there somewhere even if he wasn’t coming out just yet. You waited until the claw completely opened before you moved, scootching a little beyond the now relaxed talons. It was clear that the Phoenix was running the show; you were just a monkey in its circus.

The rest of the morning wasn’t particularly eventful, and even relaxing in parts. It wasn’t like there was anything to do in the cave so you spent an hour or so observing the Phoenix. You doubted that many had the opportunity to do so, particularly not vets. The Phoenix wasn’t like any other bird you’d ever seen - it seemed to be a composite of the best features of many kinds of birds. It had the sharp, hooked beak of a bird of prey, its call like a songbird, the beautiful plumage of a parrot, and the body of water fowl. It was an interesting combination and his features blended together seamlessly, its features in harmony. 

After a while of sitting in the cave, you started to get bored. You tried to go to the entrance, but were caught by the back of your shirt when you got too close to the platform that sat at the beginning of the cave. A stern look from the Phoenix cemented that it didn’t want you leaving. 

“Please? I just want to sit in the sun. I can’t escape - where would I go?” you pouted. You really weren’t going to try, there wouldn’t be a point. The pirates had taken their boat and you had no doubt that the Phoenix would find you and gobble you up if you disobeyed. 

The Phoenix trilled softly, which you took for acquiescence. You gave it a bright smile as thanks before slowly walked towards the patch of sun at the entrance to the cave, sitting in the center to warm yourself up. Its eyes remained trained on you as you continued doing nothing but this time feeling the breeze off the ocean. It seemed that the Phoenix didn't mind if you were sitting by the main entrance to the cave but it didn’t want you to leave. It was sometimes difficult to guess what the Phoenix was feeling or thinking but it was able to make this pretty clear.

Sitting in the sun was warmer but still uninteresting. You were trying to find ways to pass the time - so you began cleaning. Yes, it was a cave full of bones and soot and dirt - but you were used to the bones and you preferred a tidy environment, thank you very much. You spent some time organizing the supplies Thatch brought before deciding to sweep. You’d seen bones under the Phoenix too - you’d want to clean those out as well, if he let you.

After a while you realized you were humming to an old, familiar song - the first one that had turned you on to the Soul King, actually. There wasn’t anyone around besides the Phoenix, who was watching you with amusement. So despite your fear of public singing, you started singing “Binks’s Sake” as you picked up various human bones and threw them into a pile. Some were kind of interesting and you idly wondered who had been there before you and if someone new would be looking at your own bones soon.  

After a few more minutes of soft singing, you paused and silently examined a particularly long femur - only to hear the Phoenix trilling back to you. You spun in surprise to face the Phoenix, who continued to watch you clean. The Phoenix's call was harmonious, almost lulling, as it continued the song you’d been singing. It cooed the last few notes you’d sung, as if asking you to continue.

“Oh, um. OK. I just - I don’t normally sing for anyone,” you stammered, a blush rising on your cheeks. You hadn’t thought it was listening that closely to what you were singing. The Phoenix repeated the notes again - it obviously wanted to continue.

“Alright, I’ll, um, I’ll try,” you hedged, picking up the femur again. You started the song at the beginning, the Phoenix joining along with you in perfect harmony. It wasn’t that you were good at harmonizing, it was. A smile had the corners of your mouth quirking upward as it continued the lilting tune. The two of you sang together until the end of the song, the Phoenix rewarding you by chirping loudly after the conclusion of the last note. 

For the first time in your life, you didn’t feel self conscious singing in front of another being. You could think of a few reasons way. First of all, your audience was a giant bird. Secondly, it was probably going to kill and eat you in the next few days. Thirdly, Marco didn’t seem to be any closer to coming out or communicating with you, so really, what was the harm?

You spent quite a while happily singing with the Phoenix while you continued to work. It has an impressive ability to mimic, understand, and improvise. By early afternoon you’d run through your repertoire and taught it nearly all the Soul King songs you could remember. It had shuffled around as you cleaned and sang, allowing you to clean the edges of the cave and standing up to allow you to clean under it. Sweeping took a long while since you had to kind of whip the debris out with some leftover sacks instead of having a proper broom, but it didn't seem to mind. You cleaned as quickly as you could while under it, you didn't want to be squished to death accidentally. It had also made you take breaks for snacks, taking away your "broom" and handing you food and water like before. You ate the hard bread and cheese while continuing to hum "New World."

After you were done, you wiped your sweaty forehead on the back of your arm, taking stock of the now cleaner cave. It looked much better and now you could be eaten alive in peace. A squawk had your eyes snapping to the Phoenix, who was not enjoying the early afternoon. It had been docile while you were cleaning and singing but now if you were to guess it's feelings, it was agitated.

The Phoenix wing’s were nearly all singed now, the char working its way from the tips towards its mantle. It was an interesting phenomenon, the embers glowing a deep blue rather than the orange-red of normal fire. You frowned and approached it slowly, as if it was the spooked animal and not you. It was going to go through a rebirth cycle sooner rather than later, you thought, based on the rapid progression of its body turning to embers. The embers had spread exponentially, reaching its mantle under your watchful eye.

“Hm, I know this is a part of your life cycle, but I can’t imagine it feels that great,” you said sympathetically. Even though it was a gigantic mythical creature and also a billion Beri pirate, your heart couldn’t help but feel empathy for the poor bird. You stuck out your bottom lip as your fingers twitched to touch it. You weren’t sure if it would hurt you or not, so you kept away. The Phoenix tilted its head with curiosity and slowly spread its wing so you could get a closer look.

“Are you safe for me to touch?” you asked, your fingers raised again. It nodded and you extended your hand to touch the tip of a primary feather, where it had been singed the longest. Touching the glowing embers was a surreal experience - the sensation didn’t match the concrete features you could see with your eyes. The embers felt like touching a tingly cobweb, or a fog so thick you could reach out and grab it. But there was also a firm wing under your hand, the feathers not unlike those you’d seen before in a much smaller form. It was more ethereal than the solid form you’d rested against the night before.

“You really are a very interesting bird, I hope you know. Of course, your plumage is gorgeous, but the amalgamation of the best of the bird world isn’t something I’ve seen before, not to mention all the mythological features. I would love to study you for an extended period of time,” you remarked. The Phoenix looked proud and ruffled its feathers for you, pulling a giggle from your mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” you said with a roll of your eyes. There wasn’t much to do after cleaning, so you sat back down near the mouth of the cave. After another half an hour or so watching the far off waves, you stood up and dusted your pants off. You were going to treat this like a vacation, you thought. A weird, deadly, mythical vacation that you did not sign up for, but a vacation nonetheless.

It was time to smoke and chill the fuck out.

Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed the baggy you’d gotten back from Fire Fist and pulled it out. Shaking it, you saw you had a decent amount, but if you’d known you’d be taken hostage you would have brought more. Regardless you didn’t have any papers to roll with and there wasn’t any paper in the items Thatch had left behind.

But there were apples.

You hastily started making an apple bong after grabbing a small knife off the table, your hands moving with practiced muscle memory. It didn’t take long for the bong to take shape, looking not too bad for not having made one in over a decade. Filling the top with weed, you looked around for something to light it with, already knowing what you’d have to use.

“Light me up,” you demanded of the Phoenix, holding out your apple. It snorted and averted its head. You huffed, annoyed that now it wasn’t interested in helping you.

“I know you can, I don’t think all those people were healed to death,” you snarked pointedly. The Phoenix chuffed but remained unconvinced, curling its neck to rest its head on its body. Fuck that, the stupid bird would help you get high one way or another, you weren’t gonna let it ignore you.

“Oh, you don’t think you can make a fire this small? Is that why you won’t? Too difficult?” you questioned, making your eyes as wide as they would go. The only way you’d ever gotten Rob Lucci to see you was by encouraging his competitive side, talking loudly about how Jabra’s health was absolutely perfect, how no one could be in better shape by measurable metrics. Maybe a similar idea would work for the Phoenix - or maybe it was just the weakness of the male ego.

The Phoenix’s head whipped to you and trilled as if in affront. It took in a deep breath and blinked slowly before extending its wing to you. At the very end of the tip of its wing was a tiny red ember, perfect for lighting up. 

“Thank fuck,” you sighed with relief, touching the bowl to the bud before taking a deep inhale from your homemade bong. You took a few more deep rips, smoking from an apple not as smooth of an experience as you 2,000 Beri bong, but you’d also had worse. Wanted posters did not make good rolling papers. The Phoenix cooed and closed its eyes slowly, which you guessed was its method of rolling its eyes.

“If you wanna lecture me that smoking is bad for my health, save your breath. You’re a doctor too and based on the pictures I’ve seen of Marco there’s no way he doesn’t smoke,” you said, blowing a cloud of smoke from your mouth. 

“You want some?” you asked the Phoenix, who was watching you again. It tilted its head as if in interest. “Not sure he gives any to you,” you mused, turning the apple in your hands. The Phoenix made a clicking sound, as if it was now impatient. 

“Jeez, ok. I’ll um, hmmm. I’m not sure how to - I’ll shotgun you,” you declared decisively, more confident now that you weren’t as stressed. “I’ll inhale some and exhale it to you,” you explained. The Phoenix lowered its head as if you were doing it a favor and waited. You took the biggest hit you could manage from the apple, held it in for a moment, and gently blew the smoke into the Phoenix’s face, trying to aim for where you saw its nostrils were. They weren’t easy to see, but you prided yourself on being a good vet. You’d get that bird high, no matter what. Maybe it would chill the bird out as well, or help it feel a little more comfortable while it burned. It was an interesting thought - maybe you'd do research on the effects of weed on Zoan devil fruit users - with a lot of hands on experimentation.

The Phoenix gave you a contemplative look but didn’t move back to its former position, so it must have liked it enough. You repeated the process a few more times before smoking your fill. You got up to put the apple back on the table and meandered back into the cave. Making a bold move, you ambled up to the Phoenix and sat down with you back against it, not unlike how you’d slept the night before. You didn’t say anything and neither did it, as you felt every one of your muscles finally relax after…only one day of tension. How the fuck were you going to last until Thatch and Ace came back?

The thought flitted by as you started watching the transition of the Phoenix from its normal plumage to its singed form. Watching the waves of fire on the Phoenix was hypnotic, it reminded you of watching wind running through fields of wheat. There was no doubt in your mind that it was burning faster than ever. If you had to guess, it would be completely charred by late afternoon or early evening. You laid your head back on the Phoenix and closed your eyes.

Life on the Grand Line was an adventure.

You ended up taking a short nap on the Phoenix. It didn’t wake you this time, you realized as you rubbed your eyes, coming to after what felt like hours. After you woke up, it shook itself out and sidled to the front of the cave. You watched with interest - if the Phoenix left, maybe you’d have a chance for escape or at least a few minutes to yourself. The Phoenix turned to you and put its massive beak in front of your face, snapping it once. You shivered as the sharp edges of its mouth loomed in front of you while the Phoenix gave you a withering look. The message was clear - it was going to leave, but you were supposed to stay put. 

“Alright, alright. I got it - I’ll be here,” you said, waving it off. You’d grown more comfortable with the bird, you didn’t think it was going to bite your head off over a little sass - it hadn’t been turned off by your sparkling personality yet. The Phoenix closed its eyes into a half lidded expression, almost seeming to smile. It lept off the edge of the cave, diving down below. You weren’t worried exactly, but you did peer over the lip of the cave just in case - only to see the Phoenix soaring upwards, its gaze trained on you.

You’d never seen anything so breathtaking.

It flew in circles while tracking you with its eyes, as if to make sure you were watching. It didn’t need to though, you couldn’t have taken your eyes off of it if you tried. Its blue flickering flames mesmerized you as it glided through the sky, its teal plumage a beacon of pure beauty. The blazing teal was accompanied by sooty black smoke that came off its charred wings and body, giving an ominous aura to the already threatening animal. By now the overwhelming majority of the bird was charred, perhaps exacerbated by its flight.

You watched it soar lazily through the sky, wishing not for the first time that you could soar among the clouds. You sighed dreamily as it did a loop in the sky before returning in front of the cave. What a life that would be, you thought, to be able to fly away from any of your problems - no limits as you soared through the air, your only limitations your physical ability…you wished you had your paints with you to capture its beauty.

Turning in a circle back towards you, the Phoenix flapped its massive wings rapidly as it gracefully landed, the soot from its flight making you cough as it blew in your direction. The Phoenix’s head immediately dipped to your own, inspecting you closely with its unnerving teal eyes.

“I’m good, I’m good. Just a lot of smoke in the air,” you said, covering your mouth while you coughed. The less time you spent in the wings of the Phoenix the better - you wanted to avoid whatever protective instincts were activating within it. 

Which didn’t prove to be possible since just a short while later, the Phoenix fed you dinner handing you rations from what Thatch had left. Unfortunately, unlike breakfast when it handed you the entire pouch of water, this time it would hand you only a piece of food or the skein of water with its beak and take it back when you were done drinking. The Phoenix would only pass you more food when you’d finished chewing the last bite, making the feeding process much longer. Even though it was annoying, you were thankful it wasn’t feeding you like a baby bird at the very least. 

You watched as the sun set over the waters, enjoying the lovely evening as the Phoenix kept offering you more food. It kind of reminded you of how animals would eat a lot before scarcity, or a time when they’d have to use a lot of energy. But maybe it just didn’t know how much a small human would eat, you thought with a shrug. Marco himself was seven feet tall or something like that and Zoan devil fruit users had to eat a ton to maintain their energy and forms.

After you’d finished eating and staved off the Phoenix from force feeding you anything else, it slowly limped farther back into the cave. It's drooping wings and shuffling gait showed its lethargy. By now there remained only one bright blue spot on its body, just over where its heart would be. The rest of the bird looked like a living ember, but instead of a pulsing red, teal was emanating from within the sooty, cracked flesh. It was disconcerting to see the embers glow and burn brighter as the bird breathed, sooty layers growing by the second over its body. The Phoenix settled itself into the farthest back corner of the cave, curling in on itself as its fire continued to burn out. 

Your mind shrieked that you were in danger but the vet in you had you slowly approaching the Phoenix with your hands up. Its piercing gaze watched you approach but didn’t stop you, closing its eyes as you reached out to put a hand on its charred body like you had earlier in the day. Logically you knew it would be fine, this was its natural cycle that it had completed many times as per Thatch. But you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to help. You laid your forehead on its body as you ran your hands over it, trying to offer it some kind of comfort in a trying time. It trilled softly but after a few minutes it gently shooed you away with its now charred beak, giving you space for once. You frowned as you went to go sit by the entrance to the cave, feeling impotent as you watched an animal in pain.

You sat down as far away as you could while still inside the cave to mull over recent events. Sitting in the still warm evening sun, you tried to rifle through your memory about Zoan Devil Fruits to see if there was something you could do to help. You were forgetting something key, something big, you were sure of it. Something to do with transformations and awakenings…

A burst of flames and a high pitched shriek had you gasping and looking back at the Phoenix. Instead of the nearly dead embers you’d been patiently watching before, there was now a full house size pyre in the back of the cave. The pragmatist in you was worried for potential cave collapse or the more likely outcome that you'd be burned alive, but realistically the fire wasn’t even hot at close range. A huge explosion of blue fire had you shielding your eyes with your arm, unable to bear witness to the Phoenix as it changed forms.  

As you took cover it finally dawned on you, the realization striking you like lightning. A mate. That’s what allowed Zoan users to awaken their fruits - they needed to find their one true mate. That's why Zoan users had one of the lowest rates of awakening - the mate had to be compatible for both the Zoan and human sides. You’d skimmed over that section in the texts, disinterested in the process of their mate finding and only in the results of awakening. Your mouth hung open as the blue fire raged inside the cave, the flames now lapping only a few feet away.

The Phoenix wanted to mate you.

Scrambling to your feet, you made a mad dash for the exit of the cave in an attempt to flee before the Phoenix caught you. Maybe it would be vulnerable or weak during its transition time and you’d be able to make a hasty getaway. You weren’t going to be the mate to the Phoenix or Marco or anyone else in there. A bright blue wing suddenly sealed off your exit from the cave. You squeaked as you skid to a halt and fell down on your butt, scraping your hands against the rough floor of the cave. The Phoenix peered down at you as flames lept from its body to your own, your scrapes immediately healed. 

“Why do you run, little mate?” a curious voice wondered inside your head. It didn’t take a genius to know that it was coming from the Phoenix, even if hearing the deep sonorous voice without your ears was disconcerting. It was glorious in its new form, no longer black and charred, but a deep, vibrant blue from head to talon. It blazed continuously, pulsing with vitality as you cringed backwards from the stunning display. There was no doubt in your mind that it was stronger than before, but you didn't want to find out by how much. Even you with your lack of fighting training could feel the raw power ebbing off the beast.

“Y-you can talk?” you asked, trying to buy yourself time and space away from the creature. 

“I can do that and much more, mate,” it murmured seductively, watching you with half lidded eyes. It was folding its wing slowly back to its body, and you along with it.

“I’m not your mate, we’re not compatible like that,” you bluffed, raising your arms to protect your face.

“We are fated mates - we are compatible in all ways. Put down your arms. I would not harm you, especially not when I’ve waited so long to find you,” it scoffed as it folded you against its body. You tried pressing your hands against its chest to create some space but the creature was pure muscle and wasn’t giving you an inch to wriggle away.

“The v-vessel? Marco? He’s in there? Can he come out?” you asked, now cringing away as the Phoenix’s beak came close to your neck. Since being reborn it had changed to a smaller size - you guessed it was around 10 ft tall now - but that was still almost double your own height.

“Such a smart mate, you don’t need me to tell you, hm? Of course he’s here - he pretends he is unhappy about this outcome but he is as pleased as I. it bothers him that you were taken against your will, but it was not I who stole you, yes? The vessel enjoys the same pastimes and finds you both physically appealing as well as mentally stimulating. He cannot emerge now, not until I am sated, but he agrees that you are a perfect mate for us,” the Phoenix replied.

Fucking great. Marco, a Whitebeard Commander you’d never met, liked you back. Amazing, the perfect meetcute, you thought sarcastically. Your mind snapped back to attention as the Phoenix closed the gap between you, its head dipping down to look you in the eyes.

“I’m - I’m sorry, I don’t - I don’t want to be your m-mate,” you hesitated, the fear clogging your throat making it hard to get the words out.

“Then why did you participate in the courting, dear mate?” it purred, smugness radiating from it. “You cleaned and prepared our nest, slept on my body, were fed by my hands, sang your sweet warbles with me, shared your wares, even came to me in my time of need. One might mistake that for affection, no?”

“I - I…” you didn’t really have a reply. You had done those things, willingly even. You just didn’t think it would end by being mated to a mythological creature.

“You observed my transformation hasten with your arrival - I even waited to claim you until I took a smaller form so as not to hurt you. Do not worry, you will be unharmed, save for the claiming. But I cannot wait much longer - I grow rabid for you.” It husked, moving its head back once more. It took a step backwards, creating a small amount of space between you. The Phoenix was toying with you, you realized with a start, it already had the outcome set in its mind.

“Now we begin the ritual,” it said, gently pushing you onto the stone floor of the cave with a wing. You fell onto your hands and knees and quickly turned to face it. You tried to crawl backwards as it loomed over you. Your breath came quickly, as a cold sweat ran down your back.

“Wh-what ritual?” you asked, not bothering to keep the panic from your tone. It took a step closer, closing the gap between you. Your back hit the cave wall - there was no where else to go. Looming over you, it leaned down to press its forehead against your own like you'd done earlier, fiery blue blazing in your peripheral vision.

“The ritual so that I may Awaken.”

Thank you to @sordidmusings for the idea that if they hold off on the claiming until after the transformation, they're super rabid for the mate.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @rebeccawinters @ratchetprime211 @starsandshht @unknown-y-person @radiantnico @starrlo0ver

[daydreamabout]

Valentine's Day [Tim Bradford Imagine]

Summary: Tim and you spend the day catching a flower thief.

The fresh air bites at your skin as you sit in the driver’s seat of the cruiser, flipping through radio channels like you’re trying to escape your current reality.

"Do you know how insulting it is that we’re working on Valentine’s Day?" you mutter, mostly to yourself. "There’s a reason I signed up for the LAPD, but this? This is just cruel and unusual punishment."

Tim doesn’t even look at you, eyes fixed ahead as usual. He’s dressed in his standard attire— and obviously entirely uninterested in your commentary. "We’re here to do our job, not play romance novel."

You scoff. "Yeah, because nothing screams 'romantic' like sitting in a car on Valentine’s Day, tracking down flower thieves."

He barely reacts, his voice dry. "If I had to pick a case for tonight, I wouldn’t have picked this either. Let's just get it done."

You glance at him, but the corner of your lips betrays you. You’re not really mad. The whole thing is ridiculous, but somehow... fun in a strange way. "I’m just saying, a robbery case would have been better than hunting down some guy who’s stealing flowers from local vendors."

A pause, as he shoots you a sideways glance, almost amused. "What did you expect, Y/N? A bank heist?"

Before you can respond, the radio crackles.

"Unit 42, be advised. Suspect reported in the area of 5th and Main. Flower theft suspected. Handle with caution."

"Are we really doing this? I thought it was just a prank."

Tim's already putting the car in gear. "Let’s go, Y/N."

The drive to the florist district is short. You pull up behind a row of stores—mostly small, family-owned shops selling overpriced bouquets to all the people who forgot it was Valentine’s Day until the last minute. Sure enough, there's a man standing near one of the displays with a large bouquet, looking suspiciously out of place.

Tim glances at you. "Keep it cool."

You nod, stepping out of the car. As always, he's the first to approach the suspect, his serious demeanor making everyone around him think twice.

"Flower thief," you say lightly, but with enough authority to make it clear you’re not here for a friendly chat. The suspect immediately flinches.

"I—I didn’t steal anything," the guy stammers, clutching the flowers like they’re his lifeline.

Tim keeps his distance but studies the guy carefully. "Where’d you get those flowers?"

The suspect starts to crack under pressure, his eyes darting to the street and then back to you. "I—uh—bought them. I swear. From the shop back there." He points to a little boutique across the street.

"Yeah, well, I don’t see a receipt," Tim says flatly, not buying it for a second. "You’ve got about thirty seconds before we call it in."

You add, "And a very romantic night in a holding cell. You don’t want that." Your smile is so sweet it could be considered a threat.

The suspect gulps. “I—uh—look, I was going to buy them, but then the shopkeeper caught me eyeing them for too long, and I just thought... what the hell? It's Valentine’s Day, I needed something for my girl, and they were just sitting there all perfect, waiting to be taken. It’s not like I was robbing the place."

You raise an eyebrow. "You can’t just walk in and take them. That’s not cool, buddy."

Calm but firm, Tim steps in. "You’re lucky we’re not putting you in cuffs for an actual robbery. But I’m going to need you to hand those over and head home. Don’t let me catch you trying anything else tonight."

The guy nods quickly, practically dropping the flowers in Tim’s hands. "Thanks! I’ll pay next time!" he blurts, before running off into the night, leaving the two of you standing in the fresh February air.

You stand there for a second, trying to process the situation. "Well, that was..."

Tim turns toward you, and the tiniest hint of a smirk twitches at the corner of his lips. "No one ever said Valentine’s Day crimes would be exciting."

You snort. "Could’ve at least been a flower heist gone wrong. You know, something dramatic."

"That would’ve made your night, huh?" Tim says, his voice dry. "How about you focus on the fact that we just stopped someone from stealing more flowers. You’ll sleep better knowing you protected the integrity of the floral industry."

You laugh. "I’m just glad we’re done with this. Now we can go grab a burger or something. No more heart-shaped nonsense for me tonight."

Tim nods, stepping back toward the car. “Let’s go. And no more talking about flowers. This night never happened.”

You follow him, still smiling despite the oddness of it all. "Hey, at least we got the job done. Team of the year."

He glances over, an almost imperceptible look of acknowledgment in his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. But if you’re expecting me to buy flowers after tonight, you must be out of your mind."

You grin. "Disappointed, but not suprised. I’ll take you up on that burger."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Tim actually seems... relaxed. Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t such a bust after all.

[milf0rd]

BENEATH THE MASK

pairing. simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

summary. (Y/N), Task Force 141's medic, saw Ghost's face for the first time while patching up his injuries.

warning. descriptions of gunfire, explosions, scenes depicting injuries, medical treatments, and blood (typical cod theme)

word count. 2.3k

a/n: english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me!

The desert wind howled across the rocky terrain as the Task Force 141 team moved swiftly through the night. (Y/N), their medic, felt the weight of her gear as she kept pace with Captain Price, Soap, Gaz, and the mysterious Ghost. She had been with the elite unit for a few months, but Ghost remained an enigma to her, a silent, masked figure whose presence was always felt but never fully seen.

Their mission that night was simple in concept: infiltrate a heavily guarded compound and extract crucial intel regarding a new shipment of chemical weapons. But as they approached the compound under darkness, their plan quickly unravelled. A patrol they hadn't anticipated stumbled upon them, leading to a chaotic firefight.

Bullets whizzed through the air, accompanied by the sharp cracks of rifles and the distant thunder of explosions. (Y/N) took cover behind a crumbling wall, her mind racing as she assessed the wounded. Soap and Gaz held their ground nearby, providing cover fire as Captain Price barked orders over the radio.

Suddenly, Ghost appeared beside her, his presence as silent as ever. He motioned towards Soap, whose shoulder was grazed by a bullet. Without a word, (Y/N) nodded and hurried to assist.

The firefight continued for what felt like an eternity, but the team managed to eliminate the immediate threat. With the area momentarily secure, they regrouped in a small, dimly lit room within the compound. Captain Price leaned over the map spread out on a makeshift table, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"We need that intel," Price said grimly, his voice low yet commanding. "Ghost, find it. (Y/N), patch up whoever needs it and be ready to move out."

(Y/N) nodded, her focus shifting to Soap and Gaz as she pulled out her medical kit. Soap winced as she began to clean and dress his wound, but Gaz remained alert, scanning their surroundings.

As (Y/N) worked, she stole glances at Ghost, who was hunched over a computer terminal in the corner of the room. His movements were precise and deliberate, his gloved hands flying over the keys as he accessed the encrypted files.

The tension in the room was palpable, broken only by the occasional click of Ghost's keystrokes and the muted sounds of the ongoing battle outside. (Y/N) couldn't help but wonder about the man behind the mask—his past, his motivations. But such thoughts had to wait. Right now, their survival depended on securing the intel and getting out safely.

Just as Ghost seemed to make progress, an explosion rocked the building, sending debris flying and knocking everyone off balance. (Y/N) stumbled, but Ghost was quick to steady her, his gloved hand gripping her arm firmly. For a brief moment, she felt the weight of his presence, his strength beneath the mask.

"Ghost!" Captain Price called out, his voice urgent. "We're running out of time. Can you get that intel or not?"

Ghost nodded, his masked face unreadable. With renewed determination, he returned to the terminal, his fingers moving faster now.

Outside, the gunfire intensified, drawing nearer by the second. Soap and Gaz exchanged worried glances, their weapons at the ready. They knew they couldn't hold out much longer.

"Almost there," Ghost muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the screen.

Suddenly, the screen flickered and then displayed a map with a blinking marker. Ghost's gloved hand hovered over the keyboard as he extracted the data onto a portable drive.

"We've got it," Ghost announced, his voice calm yet triumphant.

Captain Price wasted no time. "Good. (Y/N), pack up. We're moving out–"

Before Price could finish his sentence, a barrage of gunfire erupted from outside the room. Bullets tore through the walls, sending chunks of debris flying. (Y/N) ducked instinctively, shielding her head with her arms.

In the chaos, Ghost acted decisively. He grabbed (Y/N)'s arm and pulled her towards him, shielding her with his own body as they sought cover behind a thick concrete pillar. His masked face was just inches from hers, his eyes intense behind the tinted lenses.

"Stay down," Ghost ordered, his voice low yet urgent.

(Y/N) nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, his presence a comforting shield amidst the chaos. For the first time, she found herself grateful for his silent strength.

Captain Price and the others returned fire, their shots echoing through the room. The enemy was relentless, their numbers seemingly endless. But Task Force 141 was relentless too, fighting tooth and nail to hold their ground.

As the firefight raged on, (Y/N) couldn't help but steal glances at Ghost. His mask remained firmly in place, betraying nothing of the man beneath. But now, with the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she found herself drawn to him in a way she hadn't before.

"We need to move," Captain Price shouted over the din of gunfire. "Ghost, (Y/N), cover us. Soap, Gaz, with me!"

Without hesitation, Ghost and (Y/N) provided covering fire as Price and the others dashed towards the exit. Bullets whizzed past them, impacting the walls with deadly precision.

"Go!" Ghost called out, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of battle.

(Y/N) nodded and followed Ghost as they made their way towards the exit, their backs pressed against the cold stone walls. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of gunpowder, their lungs burning with each breath.

Just as they reached the exit, a stray grenade sailed through the air and landed at their feet. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in horror as she realized they were trapped. Without thinking, Ghost pushed her behind him and shielded her with his body once more.

The grenade exploded with a deafening roar, sending shrapnel flying in all directions. (Y/N) felt the force of the blast against her back, but Ghost absorbed the brunt of it, his body tensing with the impact. She could hear him grunt in pain, but he didn't falter.

"Ghost!" (Y/N) screamed.

"(Y/N)..." Ghost's voice was strained. He was conscious but clearly in pain.

"Ghost is down!" she shouted into her comms, her voice filled with urgency.

There was a brief crackle of static before Price's voice came through, sharp and focused. "Gaz, Soap, fall back to Ghost's position! (Y/N), get to him now!"

As the smoke cleared, (Y/N) peered around Ghost to assess the damage. His mask was scorched and cracked, revealing a glimpse of his face beneath. Blood trickled down his neck from a gash caused by a piece of shrapnel.

"We need to get him out!" she called out, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

A few moments later the team managed to get to the position of (Y/N) and Ghost. Soap and Gaz provided cover as Price helped lift Ghost. They moved quickly, bullets whizzing past them, the sounds of battle all around. Outside, the night air was cool against (Y/N)'s skin as they regrouped with the extraction team and jumped into the helicopter that was waiting for them. As everyone was situated, (Y/N) immediately went to work, her focus solely on saving Ghost.

Captain Price and the others scanned the area around the helicopter, holding off the enemy as they flew off. (Y/N) didn't hesitate, knelt beside him. Ignoring his initial resistance, she gently pushed aside his damaged skull mask, and her hands went to his fabric mask that was under the other one.

"I need to see the wound," she said, her voice steady despite the panic rising within her.

Ghost caught her wrist instinctively, his gaze locking with hers. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"It's alright, I need to patch you up," (Y/N) said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

Ghost hesitated, his grip on her wrist loosening ever so slightly. He gave a barely noticeable nod, allowing her to proceed. (Y/N) peeled back the mask, revealing his face for the first time. His face was a canvas of battle-hardened features, each scar telling a story of survival and sacrifice. A deep, fresh gash ran from his cheek down to his neck, the wound raw and bleeding, but the older scars drew her gaze – the jagged line across his left eyebrow, the faded burn mark along his jawline, and the small, puckered scar near his temple. His skin was pale, almost ghostly, contrasting sharply with the dark stubble that shadowed his jaw. But it was his eyes that caught her attention – dark brown, filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability.

Carefully, (Y/N) cleaned the wound on his neck and applied pressure to staunch the bleeding. Ghost felt a strange mix of emotions. He was not used to being exposed, his face a closely guarded secret. The sensation of her hands, gentle yet firm, was foreign but strangely comforting. Despite the pain, there was a sense of relief, a small crack in the armour he had built around himself.

Even though the severity of the situation, she remained calm, her training guiding her every move. Ghost winced, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he watched her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"There," (Y/N) said gently, securing a bandage around his neck. "That should hold for now."

Ghost's eyes met hers, a mixture of pain and gratitude in their depths. "Thanks," he muttered, his voice strained.

"I've got you," she replied firmly. "Just hang on."

As (Y/N) finished, Captain Price stepped over the duo, his expression a mix of concern and relief. "How is he?" he asked, his eyes on Ghost.

(Y/N) looked up, exhaustion evident in her features. "He'll be okay. The wound was serious, but he's stable now."

Price nodded, his respect for (Y/N) clear in his eyes. "Good work. You saved his life."

(Y/N) offered a tired smile. "Just fulfilling my duty."

Price clapped a hand on her shoulder, a rare gesture of affection. The helicopter blades whipped through the night, and (Y/N) stayed beside Ghost, her hands steady as she pressed the bandage on his wound. The field dressings had been held, but the ride was rough, so she kept a close watch to ensure he stayed stable. Despite the dire situation, Ghost’s eyes remained sharp, and focused, a silent testament to his resilience. (Y/N) looked at the others and Ghost knew that she wanted to check on them. He nodded and without another word, he moved (Y/N)’s hand from his gash and pushed her to go to the other injured comrades.

Once she agreed, (Y/N) turned her attention to Soap. She barely took care of his shoulder which took a hit during the firefight, and although he didn’t say anything, she knew he must be in pain.

“Soap,” she called, her voice cutting through the hum of the helicopter. “Let me see your shoulder.”

Soap glanced at her, his usual bravado dimmed by exhaustion. “It’s just a scratch, doc,” he muttered, but he didn’t resist as she moved closer.

(Y/N) carefully peeled back the torn fabric of his sleeve, revealing the graze. The bullet had grazed his shoulder, leaving a raw, bloody scar. She winced at the sight but quickly set to work, cleaning the wound with practised efficiency.

“You need to take it easy,” she said, her tone firm but gentle. “This might not be serious now, but it could get worse if you don’t let it heal.”

Soap grinned, a flicker of his usual humour returning. “Don’t worry about me, lass. I’m tougher than I look.”

(Y/N) smiled back, shaking her head. “Maybe, but even tough guys need to let their medics take care of them.”

As she bandaged his shoulder, Soap’s grin softened into something sincere. “Thanks, doc. We’re lucky to have you.”

She finished securing the bandage and patted his good shoulder. “Just doing my job, Soap. Now sit tight, we’ll be back at base soon.”

She glanced around the helicopter, checking on the rest of the team. Gaz was alert, his eyes scanning the horizon, and Captain Price was deep in thought, already planning their next move. Despite the weariness and the injuries, there was a deep sense of unity among them. They had faced the fire together and come out stronger on the other side.

As the helicopter touched down at the base, the team began to disembark, their movements slow and weary. (Y/N) remained beside Ghost, her presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos. His mask was back in place, hiding his features once more. But now, she knew the man behind the mask – a warrior with a haunted past, driven by a sense of duty and honour. She held his hand gently, ensuring he felt her support. Even through the pain and exhaustion, Ghost’s eyes flickered with a rare vulnerability, acknowledging her silent strength.

As the other medics arrived and began to transfer him onto a stretcher, Ghost’s grip on her hand tightened slightly. “You don’t have to stay,” he muttered, his voice strained but sincere.

(Y/N) smiled softly, squeezing his hand in return. “I want to. You’re my patient and my friend. I’m not leaving you now.”

Ghost’s eyes softened, a flicker of gratitude passing over his features. “Not used to... this kind of care.”

She chuckled lightly, adjusting the blanket around him. “Well, get used to it. You’re stuck with me.”

There was a brief silence as the medics prepared to move him, the sounds of the bustling base fading into the background. Ghost looked at her, his expression serious. “Thanks, (Y/N). For everything.”

(Y/N) leaned closer, her voice gentle but firm. “Just focus on getting better, Ghost. We need you.”

He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth behind the fabric mask. “I’ll do my best.”

“You better do,” she said, walking alongside the stretcher as they moved him towards the infirmary.

[e-squared-what-is-my-life]

Just finished playing dream bbq finally, twas amazing but dear gods was the parkour in the wind area with the human board hell on earth

Anyway, any drabbles or headcanons you gor squandered away? Id love to hear them, especially if it's something about the two enas 💙💛❤️🤍

I've Had This in My Drafts For Weeks Waiting For This One Moment

I Give to You: THE ENA LAWS!

Relationship Laws:

1. No ENA is to have more than one (1) ENA partner. Any ENA found to have more than one (1) ENA partner is to be reported immediately and turned in to the EHF (ENA Holding Facility), where he/she will go through a series of physical tests; in such a scenario, the most fertile of the group will be killed using specially made weapons that destroy the ENAs from the inside out. The remaining accepted pair are to be tagged and microchipped to monitor their activities and parental status.

2. ENAs are to stay abstinent throughout the first (1st) month of any romantic or sexual relationship. (Note to Officers: Some ENAs have been observed Pairing for Life. To determine if your observed pair is one of these cases, refer to the EHCH (ENA Head Count Handbook), which contains information about every Assimilated ENA, both via Random Assimilation and Paired Assimilation).

3. Any ENA not displayed in or reported to the EHCH (ENA Head Count Handbook) that is in a relationship is to be Bulldozed*, NO EXCEPTIONS MADE.

*For those unaware, Bulldozing is the process in which an ENA is sedated and then pressed within a machine specifically made to destroy every pixel in said ENA's body. It is painless and humane when done correctly.

Hunting Laws

1. EHS (ENA Hunting Season) lies within the first week of the New Moon Cycle. Any ENAs discovered to be killed outside of this time frame are to be reported immediately to the DEHU (Deceased ENA Housing Unit), after which the Hunter responsible is liable to face up to two (2) years in jail plus a fine up to or surpassing the value of two (2) Fatty Cattys.

2. Any ENAs observed with Bytes (the scientific and hunting term used for baby and adolescent ENAs), especially if the adult is the mother, are to be left alone until the Byte is of parting age (12-Years-Old at the earliest). (Side Note for Officers: Hunters are allowed to track Mothering and Carrying ENAs*, but only as long as they do not directly interfere with the Byte's Growing Cycle).

3. Bytes under the age of 16-Years-Old are off limits to any Hunters, NO EXCEPTIONS.

4. Downed ENAs are to have their bodies reported to the DDE (Department of Deceased ENAs) so they can be recorded in the DETH (Deceased ENA Tracking Handbook). After their deaths are recorded, Hunters are allowed to do as they wish with the bodies, be it within legal and ethical limits.

*To determine if an ENA is Carrying, refer to the EAaBH (ENA Anatomy and Biology Handbook).

Owner Laws

*Note to Officers: Exceptions are allowed to be made depending on certain scenarios. To determine whether or not an ENA and his/her Owner qualifies for these Exceptions, refer to the EEQH (ENA Exception Qualifications Handbook). DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, SHARE THIS CLASSIFIED INFORMATION WITH ENA OWNERS!

1. An ENA Owner is allowed to have up to three (3) Working ENAs per household, any number exceeding the three (3) number limit is considered Animal Cruelty*.

2. Any ENA registered in the OEAH (Owned ENA Association Handbook) is to be microchipped and tagged to make sure they can be tracked should an Owner lose or attempt to Upend their ENA or his/her life.

3. Every Owned ENA is to have yearly checkups, in which they are to be given standard physical testing, as well as testing to ensure they are still fit for work.

4. Because ENAs tend to live excessively long lives, it is recommended they are retired upon the age of -FOR OFFICER AND DOCTOR KNOWLEDGE ONLY- to avoid potential dangers to themselves and their Owners.

*Because of their tendency to be highly unstable, ENAs are placed within the Animalia family to avoid confusion and concern regarding legal talk of their species.

Altering** Law

ENAs are to be altered under any of three (3) circumstances:

- An Owner requests it to be done to help them control the temperament of their ENA.

- Any ENA that is found injured due to Mishandling or a reported fight between two (2) or more "Free" ENAs is to be turned in to the nearest ENA vet, where it will be determined whether or not they should be kept alive and Altered to reduce aggression or "put out of their misery".

- A Paired ENA (typically the Mother or Potential Mother) is showing signs of unnecessary aggression or agitation towards his/her Byte.

**For those unaware of what the term "Altering" refers to, by scientific and medical definition, the direct definition of "Altering" an ENA is: The process of ETHICALLY and surgically removing the aggressive Face Plate (AKA "Side Negative") of an ENA to assist in soothing their tempers via ETHICAL alteration of an ENA's mood.

Stargazing Law

By the order of The Great Runas, it is required of ENAs to have at least some knowledge of the stars and its constellations, especially ENA's Lament. Once (1) a year it is expected that every ENA recorded in the EHCH (ENA Head Count Handbook) is recorded offering readings of the stars to help determine Working Status.

Bloodline/Classification Law

Every ENA is required to submit a blood sample at some point in their youth to help any existing ENA organizations determine what Branch of the ENA Tree they belong to. Any ENAs discovered to be seven (7) or more generations away from a Founding Branch* is to be classified as a subspecies**, and is not expected to fall under True ENA Laws.

*Founding Branch: The original branch/bloodline that the first (1st) created ENAs derive from. Approximately 12% of all existing ENAs belong to this branch.

**Any ENA that falls too far from the Founding Branch of the ENA Tree. This means that a large majority of ENAs existing now are, by technicality, subspecies, though the term is broad and only broken down by trained and properly educated scientists and biologists.

Orphaned Byte Laws

1. Any Bytes found orphaned are to be turned into the custody of the OEHA (Orphaned ENA Handling Association). Any Bytes not turned in to the OEHA or hidden for any reason will be killed to avoid improper upbringing which may result in poorly behaved ENAs.

2. An "Orphaned Byte" is classified strictly as a young ENA under Parting Age (12-Years-Old at the earliest) who is found with deceased or unfit parents. Bytes can be made Orphans through unlawful hunting practices, though the resulting future can be altered if there are retired ENAs willing to care for them.

3. Orphaned Bytes are to be considered unstable individuals unfit for work, and have one of two future options: They may be assigned as Pets, or shipped off to factories to be ethically euthanized and turned into ENA Food.

4. Should an Orphaned Byte be considered- in any rare occasion -fit for work, they are only to be handled by experienced Handlers with four (4) or more years of experience handling ENAs.

Pet vs. Worker Laws

1. To be classified as a Worker over a Pet, an ENA must match the following qualifications:

- Have learned basic manners from parents or anything close enough to parents.

- Prove competent in Stargazing.

- Successfully pass required obedience classes.

- Be able to communicate needs and repeat orders to their Handlers.

2. Pet ENAs are not allowed autonomy; they do not receive the freedoms of their Worker ENA counterparts due to inability to prove competence in multiple areas of Work.

3. Worker ENAs under Handler supervision must be treated with basic respects. Any Worker ENA without a Handler is allowed to receive some heckling and ridicule to encourage a more productive lifestyle.

[blueiscoool]

Haul of Historic Coins Sells For $176,000 at Auction

A British man who found a massive cache of ancient Roman gold and silver coins while hunting with a metal detector has a lot more modern currency in his pocket after the treasure was auctioned off for $176,000.

George Ridgway, a trained archaeologist, investigated an unusual marking in a recently harvested field in Suffolk, England in September 2019, according to a news release from Noonans Auctions. He knew that a Roman road had once run close to the field, and thought there might be something to find.

Hours scouring the area turned up nothing, he said, but when he shifted his position by just 30 yards, he found two Roman brooches that dated back to the 1st century. Shortly after, he found a silver coin issued by Julius Caesar in 46 BC. Another three hours of searching turned up 160 more silver coins and some pottery fragments.

"I knew I had made an important archaeological discovery and called my dad to guard the site overnight while we waited for an archaeological team to arrive and excavate the site," the 34-year-old said. "It took three months to recover the hoard."

During that excavation, researchers found even more coins, including gold pieces. In total, 748 coins, dated from as early as 206 B.C., were recovered. Alice Cullen, a coin specialist at the auction house, said it was one of the largest hoards of Iron Age and Roman coins found in the United Kingdom. The coins may have been buried by a long-serving soldier in Rome's XX Legion, who were once stationed in what would later be known as Colchester, England, Cullen said. There was a "fierce battle" in the area around 47 A.D., Cullen said, and a victim of the conflict may have been the person who buried the coins.

Sixty-three of the coins were claimed by the British Museum and the Colchester & Ipswich Museum, to be displayed in their collections, and the rest were auctioned. While the auction house expected the sale to garner about $100,000, it actually brought in more than $176,000, according to CBS News partner the BBC.

A coin issued by Gaius Caesar - also known as Caligula - decorated with a portrait of the Empress Agrippina and dated to A.D. 37-38 sold for about $9,295, according to the BBC. Another coin, issued by Claudius and dated to A.D. 41-42, sold for about $6,640.

Ridgway said the proceeds of the sale will be split between himself and the landowner of the site where the coins were found. He said that such a find has been like a dream come true.

"I was inspired by my childhood hero Indiana Jones to start history hunting when I was 4 years old, and I dreamed of finding a Roman hoard since my grandmother bought me a metal detector for my 12th birthday," Ridgway said. "It was an awe-inspiring moment when I realised that I had found one!"

By Kerry Breen.

[kasagia]

Bring me a dream pt. 1

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/general Kirigan x fem! sun summoner! reader Summary: Everyone has their soulmate—someone they are meant for. This was due to Sankta Maradaia, who decided to connect two souls destined for each other during their sleep to show them their other half, Sankta also sent them a tattoo of their loved one name, so that souls thirsting for each other can finally be united. Aleksander never had even one, short dream about his soulmate. Just a tattoo that has taunted him for ages. The Darkling believes this is his punishment for creating the fold, another privilege of being condemned. To never know his soulmate. But one day, a dream about a sun summoner comes to him. Someone equal to him. Someone meant for him. And he promises himself to find you at all costs. Not just because of your powers. Nonsense from me: This is an request from @morrigan-crowmwell I hope you like it! 💙🖤 P.S. I know it took me soooo looong again and I'm so sorry. I'm trying to fight my writer's block. 😅 I used a quote from Taylor Swift's Blank Space. Inspired by the song Mr. Sandman - SYML Wairning(s): mentions of blood, abuse, fighting, violence Word count: 6,7k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @morrigan-crowmwell ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

I've been waiting a long time to meet you in my dreams…

"My soulmate is great! I've seen her fight with a REAL sword! Can you imagine that, guys?! My father still teaches me on that wooden. Ugh! I envy her so much."

"Mine swims faster than either of you! Of course, he's not as good as me, but I've seen him shoot a bow. What I'd give to join him on a hunt!"

"And you, sahdow-boy? You sit more quietly than usual, don't be shy! Show off what she or he is like."

Aleksander tensed up, feeling the other boys' eyes on him. The young shadow summoner felt a blush of shame appear on his face. He hated such conversations. He already couldn't fit in with a group of other kids, and he was constantly reminded that he was different. Weirdo. Proteus.

"I… I haven't dreamed of her yet. But I know her name!" he tried to reply in a tone of voice that mimicked their enthusiasm. He couldn't show them that he was weak. That the fact that he had never seen his soulmate before hurt him. That he was a changeling again.

"My father also started dreaming about my mother late. Maybe she just wasn't born yet?" his only friend put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. He thanked the saints for Ivan. He was a light in his darkness for now. And heartrender wasn't talking about his shadows at all...

"Did you hear, guys?! Shadow-boy will be dating a baby!"

Aleksander was furious. He felt anger rise up in him as the other children laughed at his soulmate. Without knowing when, he summoned his shadows and plunged the clearing into darkness, stopping the laughter of the other children.

"Hey, take it easy, shadow-weirdo! We're just kidding!"

"The freak, as usual, can't control himself."

Voices came out of the darkness, and the footsteps of children receding were all Aleksander could hear before he was alone with his shadows again.

Even Ivan's hand disappeared from his shoulder as shadows blanketed the area.

He was utterly alone. And he hated it.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, smiling.

18 birthday. Your big day.

You adjusted the necklace your grandmother had given you around your neck, proudly displaying the amulet with your birthstone. Your mother's earrings hang proudly from your ears. Nostalgia is starting to get to you. You so wish she were here.

"I've lived in this world for so long that, for ages, I've felt that time moves infuriatingly slowly. But ever since you came into the world, I've felt it slip through my fingers. You've grown up so fast... you look like your mother." the woman sighs as she stands behind you in the mirror and looks at you tenderly, fixing your braid.

"I wish a madraya was here." you say sad. Grandma puts a hand on your shoulder and turns you around to look her in the eye.

"She is here, my sun. In our hearts and memories. As long as you can picture her before your eyes, she will always be with you. Watching you from heaven." you both stand in silence, remembering your recently deceased mother.

"I have something for you." the woman speaks as she pulls a beautiful gold bracelet engraved with your family symbol from her sleeve.

"Oh, grandma, you didn't have to… it's beautiful."

"And practical. Materialnik made it specially for me. Thanks to this, no one will see THAT on your wrist."

"Why should I hide it?" you ask, confused, when she helps you fasten the bracelet on your wrist where was your soulmate's name on it.

"I want you to be careful."

"Careful of what?"

"Powerful men." she replies seriously, stroking your cheek tenderly. "There is nothing worse in the world than the greed of men. Than their excessive ambition. We are the sun summoners, honey. You are my blood, my pride, and my only solace in this world. The love of men is fatal. You don't need it, and trust me, you don't want it. Promise me for your dead mother and my daughter..." your grandmother grabbed your wrist, turning it so you both could see that the black ink, that showed up this morning, disappeared. Aleksander Morozova. "Do not seek him. Avoid him. Treat him like the plague. Do not repeat the fate of your poor mother. I couldn't stand losing you because of another man's lust for power."

"I promise you, babushka. I will not share my mother's fate." you promise with tears in your eyes. Your mother trusted the wrong person... you were not going to repeat her fate.

"And you will always wear a bracelet and necklace from me?"

"Yes. I promise." you solemnly promise, while looking into her eyes. You two were one of a kind. Summoners of the sun. Long-lived. Powerful. You have to stick together if you want to survive in this cruel for Grishas world. "Can I go now and enjoy the summer solstice festival?"

"Yes. Have fun, sunshine. And return home no more than two hours after dark!" she screams after you as you run to get some freedom... to forget who you are for a while.

"That boy keeps staring at you!" your friend shouts through the crowd of people having fun and nods her head at the boy by the fire.

You glanced at the side she indicated. She is right. A handsome brunette with dark eyes looks straight at you. He looks away when he sees you noticing him and pretends to be talking to the boy next to him. You roll your eyes at your friend's behaviour and continue drinking your beer.

"And what do you think I'm supposed to do about it?"

"Go and have fun!" she says, offended that you don't know. "I've known you since you came here. You haven't had a single boyfriend, you're shooing all the suitors away. You're 18. Go and flirt with him, or I'll take care of this handsome one."

You are laughing at her words. You look at the boy again, and you can't deny that you feel a strange pull… a bond that wants you to come to him. But you don't listen to it.

"So take him. I'm going home," you say as night falls completely. The flame of the torch and bonfire is the only source of light.

"Really? Will you waste an opportunity like this?" you just laugh with a shrug at her words and make your way to the path through the woods leading to your house, pushing your way through the crowd of people.

You leave the clearing where the festival is taking place and enter the forest. You sigh with relief to be alone, away from people's voices. You walk confidently into the darkness without being afraid of it as you watch the stars above you.

You are walking down a familiar path when suddenly you hear the crunch of leaves and branches behind you. You turn slowly with your hand close to the hidden dagger at your hip.

You see in front of you the same boy who was staring at you by the fire. You watch him warily, waiting for his move.

He takes one slow step towards you, his dark eyes never leaving yours. Without knowing why, you stare spellbound into his eyes again, unable to utter a word. It's only when he crosses halfway between you that common sense returns to you and you raise a dagger in his direction.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt you." he says, stopping and staring at the blade glistening in the moonlight. "Of course, only if you don't hurt me either."

"Why are you following me?" you ask without lowering your weapon, still holding it as a warning between you two.

He frowns, looking from the dagger to you. "I have no bad intentions. I saw you going this way and this forest… is not the safest place."

"I know. Nowhere is safe." you reply coldly, eyeing him carefully. "Which doesn't answer my question. Why did you follow me in here?"

"I wanted to make sure you made it through safely." you snort, amused, not for a moment believing the stranger's concern for you. He stays where he is, not moving for a moment, undaunted by your reaction. If anything, curiosity only grows in his eyes. "You haven't experienced much kindness from others, have you?"

"I'm not going to answer a stranger's question like that. You do not know anything about me."

"I can see you're too distrustful, and if the lack of trembling in your dagger hand tells me something, it is that you've threatened someone more than once."

"That's right… shouldn't you run as far away from me as possible, then?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him as you watch his impassive reaction…but you certainly didn't expect him to raise the corners of his… pretty mouth in response.

"I'd rather walk you out and make sure you're okay... or anyone who dares stand in your way." you bite your lip, holding back a smile so you don't react to his teasing.

"I doubt you'd be able to do anything."

"I'm tougher than you think." he says, answering your challenge with a mischievous smirk. The sparkles in his dark eyes shine in the moonlight… and you involuntarily agree with your friend. He was handsome… and dangerous.

"I don't need a man to play my prince on a white horse. I can be my own knight."

"Well, if you want my opinion…" you cut him off before he could finish.

"No, thank you. I have my own." he laughs at your words, shaking his head in amusement as he licks his lips.

He stares at you intensely, and you know that if you were anyone else, you would have pounced on him by the campfire. But you were a sun summoner. You couldn't trust someone like that. Even if you wanted to...

"Very well then... but, I'd feel better walking you through the woods at least. May I?" he asks, extending his hand towards you. "Or are you too afraid that you will enjoy my company?"

You snort, placing your hand in the crook of his arm. You could have let him. Clearly, he has had no ill intentions so far. You glare at him defiantly as you see a spark of amusement in his eyes and a wild smile on his lips.

"What?" you ask dryly.

"Nothing. I just thought you couldn't look prettier… you seem to glow even more when you prove people wrong."

"I'm too smart to be seduced by you." you warn him, looking at him carefully as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You feel your cheeks blush slightly.

"Maybe that's why I'm so drawn to you?" he asks, whispering, staring into your eyes.

You're drowning in the moment. His smell, the depth of his dark eyes… and without knowing why, the feeling is… actually the opposite of what you felt when others tried to flirt with you.

"Careful... you've stared into my eyes for too long to say you don't care." he says, sparks of malice appearing in his eyes. You snort and are about to respond to his taunt when his expression suddenly cools and he pulls you into his chest.

You're about to yell at him and attack him when suddenly an arrow flies right over where you used to stand. You recognise its distinctive arrowhead. "Drüskelle." you whisper.

You don't waste time. You back away from him and grab your daggers. You can't show the world what power you wield, so you limit yourself to melee combat. You're also not sure if your companion is Grisha.

You kill the first of them, and next to you, you hear the sounds of your companion's fight. He's doing fine. You deal with most of the Drüskelle pretty quickly when suddenly one of them comes up behind you. Before you can engage, your companion pulls you back to his chest. You see nothing. He makes sure of it when you hear Drüskelle's desperate cry from behind you, who wanted to kill you as well as the others who managed to stay alive. Suddenly it's quiet again... but it's darker around you than before.

You gently pull away from him as he releases his strong grip on your hair. You look around, seeing Drüskelle's bodies as if they were… cut.

"I… how?" you ask, dumbfounded, not believing what you see. You turn your gaze back to him. "Are you a Grisha? Heartrender maybe?"

"It's... a little more complicated." he says, looking down at your hands and bloody daggers.

"I'm guessing you're not a Grisha, then?"

"It's a little more complicated." you say, repeating his words. He looks up and stares into your eyes again. Without knowing why, you both giggle. "I... thank you. I wouldn't handle them all alone."

"No problem." He says, still staring at you. Without knowing why, you lean towards him.

You swallow, smelling his scent again, involuntarily remembering the warmth and safety his arms gave you. You shouldn't feel that way about a stranger. And yet...

"I… I should probably go now."

"Me too." he whispers back, but you're both too hypnotised to move. Not thinking much about the bodies around you or the blood on your clothes.

For some strange reason, the eyes of the other and this closeness seem much more interesting to you both than the world around you.

He leans towards you too. A short distance separates you as you both stare at each other in silent anticipation and excitement. However, that moment is effectively cut short as you hear another movement around you.

You both draw your daggers and aim at where you heard the movement. There is a woman behind you. Her dark eyes are remarkably similar to those of your companion. You are surprised to see how his irises have already been etched into your memory.

"You find yourself a friend?" the woman asks him mockingly, staring at the two of you.

"I'm going, mother." he says, obviously waiting for her to leave. But she stands there, watching you curiously. He sighs in annoyance and turns to you. "See you soon." he whispers, placing his dagger in your hand.

You shiver at the skin of his hand on yours as unimaginable power rushes through you. But that's not what keeps you staring at him speechless… and you think you both know it as he gives you a wistful, longing look before turning away.

You can only stay there and stare at the receding silhouettes of the two of them. Then you are all alone again. You turn around and continue on your way home. With a small smile, you tighten your hand around the black dagger.

You were coming home to your grandmother. It was winter, and it was getting harder and harder to drive through the snow from town to your house. But someone had to do the shopping.

As you walked, you heard the sounds of a struggle. Interested, you veered off the path to the house and walked slowly through the snow, trying not to alert anyone to your presence.

You froze as you saw a group of teenagers fighting the same boy who gave you the dagger and helped kill Drüskelle.

The rational part of you told you to get out of there and not deal with this stranger. And you almost did, but then you saw one of the girls stab him in the back and shove him into the ice hole.

You threw the wicker basket with your groceries in the snow and ran towards them. You used your light and stunned them all into unconsciousness. Not enough to kill them, but enough to make their heads hurt for days and some of them lose their eyesight.

With your light, you melted the ice in the river and pulled the mysterious boy out of it by his shoulders.

You held him close as he coughed, spitting water into the snow. You only let him go when he's back to normal.

"Do you attract trouble, or do you just like getting into it?" you ask him with a laugh, trying to lighten the atmosphere. You take off his soaked coat and cover him with one of yours.

"Both, I'm guessing." he says, still shivering. You don't know if it's from the cold or from the attack.

"Get up. We need to keep you warm." you speak and help him stand on two legs.

If he notices the bodies of his unconscious tormentors, he decides not to say anything or ask how you did it. You pick up the basket you dropped earlier and guide both of you to your house.

Surprisingly, he doesn't protest when you enter the house, and luckily for you, your grandmother hasn't come back yet.

"Stay here for a while. I'll go get some dry clothes for you." I speak as I disappear into the other room for a moment.

"How did you overpower them?" you hear his question. You swallow and try to think of an answer as you walk back to the main room.

"It's... complicated." you reply, handing him the clothes. "You can go there and change. I'll put some water on for tea."

He nods and takes the clothes from you. He wants to say something, but instead he sighs and goes to the next room.

You place the kettle over the hearth and wait for the water to boil for tea for the two of you.

"Do you often save people from trouble?" he asks jokingly as he joins you. You smile when you see that he's feeling a little better. He still has a red nose, though. And you're pretty sure if you took his hand, he'd be icy.

"Selected only. Feel honoured." you snort, amused. His laugh makes you shiver. A strange warmth begins to spread from your chest.

"I am." he replies, looking deep into your eyes. He leans closer to you, examining you intently, searching for any reaction from me that would indicate that you are uncomfortable with him.

He finds nothing.

So he leans in a little more. Your noses brush against each other as he waits, giving you the option to either kiss him or pull away from him.

You feel your heart beating fast... you know that if he was a heartrender he would have leaned forward and kissed you a long time ago. You also know you should back off, he was a stranger, a man, you shouldn't trust him.

But after the look he gives you and a glance at his enticing pink lips, you lean forward and press your lips uncertainly to his.

His cold lips warmed up.

You close your eyes as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer with one hand on your waist and the other in your hair. You sigh, feeling how wonderful it feels, how proper it is to kiss him even though you don't even know his name. What's undeniable, however, is how great you feel around him.

But you feel something else… like an unimaginable amount of power flows into you with his touch. How your light calls for release. And for a moment, you feel like you're going to lose control if you keep kissing him.

Fortunately, before you stupidly reveal your powers, you pull away from each other, startled by the sound of a whistling kettle.

You both laugh, resting your foreheads against each other. You eventually pull away from him, take the kettle off the hearth, and shift your gaze to it. He's warmer from your kiss than from the fire.

You shift your gaze towards him. And experimentally, you take his hands in yours. You feel the surge of power buzzing through your veins again. Your gaze returns from his warming hands in yours to his irises, and you get lost in his dark eyes again.

"You... are the amplifier." you whisper as you look at him. "That's why they wanted to kill you... they wanted your bones."

He swallows, moves his gaze from your eyes to your joined hands. He doesn't take them out of your warm embrace as he nods, trembling without looking at your face.

"What are you going to do about it?" he asks, realizing full well that you must be Grisha to sense his ability.

The very idea that you, the only person who has shown him any kindness (not knowing him at all) will suddenly want to hurt him after what happened between you two a moment ago makes him sick.

But Aleksander has been through it more than once. Last an hour ago. Despite everything, he still holds a strong grip on your hands, trembling unconsciously.

Your response is to pull him close to you in a tender embrace.

"You're safe." you say simply, and from the way he holds his breath before burying his head in your neck after a few seconds of complete shock, you know that you must be the first person in a very long time to show him such affection.

And you're realizing that you don't need to know his name to know that it's good to hold him in your arms.

And Aleksander feels warm for the first time in a long time. He feels like he's holding the sun. But the most striking thought for him is that he is no longer alone...

"Is that all, General?" Ivan's question pulled Aleksander out of his thoughts. He stopped stroking the tattoo with his soulmate's name hidden under his kefta and glanced at the heartrender.

"Yes, you can go." he sighs, shifting in his chair and rubbing his eyes with his hand.

Ivan looks like he wants to say something but changes his mind at the last moment and leaves the war room, closing the door softly behind him.

Aleksander sighed, staring at the map in front of him. The king was going to bring down Ravka. Only his Grishas were able to hold Ravka's borders. He shuddered, thinking of all the good soldiers the Fjerdans, Drüskelle and others had taken from him. He felt powerless. And if he knew anything in his centuries-old life, it was that he hated that feeling.

He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at his watch on the wall. It was long after midnight. He sighed as he got up from his chair and walked towards his bedroom. He won't help his army if he's barely conscious. He took off his kefta and pushed the books to one side of the bed. He lay down in the free space and fell asleep as soon as his head rested on the pillow.

Something was different… otherwise, Aleksander could sense it the moment his dream began.

There was a strange feeling in his bones; his heart was beating much faster, excited, as if it couldn't wait for what was about to happen.

He was alone again in the deep black shadows. He took a step, and suddenly the shadows parted. He looked up and gasped as he saw a figure in a black-golden kefta in the distance.

He'd had that dream many times before… especially when he was a little boy. That he was irretrievably lost in the darkness.

He had never met anyone in the depths of his shadows before. He took another hesitant step towards the mysterious figure, not taking his eyes off it, afraid that it would disappear at any moment.

But it's not.

A figure in a gold-black kefta stood with its back to him.

Aleksander is afraid. He's afraid that it's just another trick of his mind, that as soon as he utters the name that has haunted him both asleep and awake for hundreds of years, you'll disappear, leaving him utterly alone in the darkness of his shadows again.

But Aleksander had been patient enough for a long time... maybe he could finally give in to what he most wanted, what he missed most, what he craved for like a foolish boy.

He came over to you. Hesitantly and slowly. As if he could spook you at any moment. He raised his hand, but instead of touching your arm, he met air as you took a step away from him and slowly turned to face him.

He held his breath in anticipation, waiting for you to pull down your gold-black hood to reveal your face to him. He watched in fascination as golden threads of light slowly began to flow from your hands.

He had been accustomed to the darkness for centuries. But he couldn't take his eyes off you as your threads of light slowly grew stronger. He watched in utter awe as your light changed from gold to pure white after dispelling the shadows around you two.

His eyes widened as your hood fell back to reveal your familiar, beautiful face. He sighed, letting out a long-held, shaky breath.

And when you took his hand, which he still held out to you, and ran your thumb over his palm? He completely lost himself in your irises, feeling your light grow stronger through its amplifying powers, enclosing the two of you in a silver and gold orb.

But before he gets a chance to reach out to you and caress your cheek tenderly, to feel again that warmth he always felt from you and which turned out to be your light, you suddenly disappear. And with you, your warm light.

His cold shadows enveloped him again…

He wakes up and finds himself in his bed, in his chambers. But for the first time in a long time, instead of being disappointed that he didn't dream of his soul mate this time, he's relieved. And happiness. Excitement. And something he's clung to so desperately all these centuries, much to his mother's taunt... he feels hope.

He doesn't know what has changed. Why suddenly did the saints decide to reveal your face to him after you had met so many centuries ago? For a moment, the bitter thought crosses his mind that he could have had you by his side much sooner. That together you could carry the weight of eternity... but he shakes his head.

He had a chance to implement all his plans now... and to meet his soulmate, whom he had missed for so many centuries. All he had to do was track you down.

And he's not going to lose.

"I'll find you... moya solnishko." he whispers to himself, fondly stroking the tattoo on his wrist. "And when I do, I'll make sure you'll never hide from me again." he promises, placing his lips on the tattoo on his wrist.

He would do anything to finally have someone to call his own…

"I was hoping to find you here." Aleksander turns around in surprise when he sees you standing behind him.

"How did you know?" he asks, putting the book back on the shelf. You see the title out of the corner of your eye.

The Lives of Saints

"I know many things." you say, leaning against the shelf. "But honestly? I didn't take you for someone who prays to saints. Or maybe your ego and ambition are so big that you want to become one of them?" you say teasingly, smirking at him. He rolls his eyes and takes your hand, leading you out of the library. You let him lead the two of you into the woods.

"You must have wanted something if you took your precious time to find me." he starts when you both walk a familiar path. This is where your strange "friendship" began, if you could call those stolen moments, kisses, and nights between you two like that… how poetic that it will end here as well.

"I am leaving." you speak briefly without looking at him.

You feel him tense up. It was probably not the answer he ever expected. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him swallow.

He clears his throat, trying to look composed. However, his dark eyes, as always, reveal his true feelings to you. You wonder if you're the only one who can read him like that. "Why?" he whispers.

"Apparently my warning was… not strong enough. One of the people who tried to kill you complained to my grandmother. I have to leave."

"I can talk to her…"

"No!" you cut him off quickly, letting go of his hand and standing in front of him. The last thing you need is his intercession with your grandmother. "I know you mean well, but it's the final decision."

"I see." he says coldly, looking away from you. "Is there anything else you wanted?"

"Yes." you say, pulling his dagger out of your sleeve, handing it to him. "I wanted to give it back to you."

"It's a gift. I'm not in the habit of taking back what I've given someone." he snorts, offended, at which you giggle, amused. He turns his gaze back to you, raising an eyebrow.

"I knew you'd say something like that. That's why…" you pull out a second, identical dagger to the one he gave you. The only difference is that the dagger's handle is decorated with a sun… an eclipsed sun. "I did it." you say, handing it to him.

He takes the dagger from you and examines the engraving. "Why it?" he asks curiously. "Why the eclipsed sun?" his gaze is burning, inquisitive. You know there's no turning back now. You take a step back, his dark irises following your every move.

You shrug. "Guess, shadow summoner."

He stares at you in shock. A thought… a ridiculous and beautiful thought crosses his mind. He knows there's no point in chasing after you. You'll run away from him anyway. But he can't help but scream after your receding silhouette. "What's your name?!"

You're smiling. But you don't turn around to look at him one last time, to steal one last look at his dark, piercing eyes, to get one more moment... Instead, you scream over your shoulder: "Call me sunshine!"

You disappear from his sight. Deep down, you know you'll meet again… But you weren't going to share your mother's fate… even for such mesmerising, dark eyes as his.

After hundreds of years, you've become accustomed to dreamless sleep.

It was your conscious choice. A promise to grandma, mother, and you. You didn't pray to the saints to bring you a dream about your soulmate. You didn't want him... even though his name on your wrist, hidden by your grandmother's bracelet, had tormented you for hundreds of years.

That's why, when your first dream started, you knew it was something bad. You knew your grandmother's necklace had somehow fallen off your neck. And so, you were dreaming. You dreamed about him... and he probably dreamed about you.

You galloped on a horse. It was early morning. The clearing where you galloped was shrouded in mist. The cool wind hit your skin, and your cloak billowed behind you as you tried to lose the black rider following you.

People usually run to their soulmates. They wanted to meet them at all costs. Not you. But the saints have never been merciful to you… maybe because you never prayed to any of them.

Or have they stopped letting you prolong the inevitable.

That's why the black rider soon caught up with you. He rode by your side for a moment, then shot forward. You knew he was trying to block your way, so you sped up and managed to catch up with him for a moment. You rode side by side for a while, but you didn't dare look and atface.

But your wishes no longer mattered.

He sped up ahead of you and stepped sideways, causing your horse to stop and stand on two legs. You held on tight to keep from falling. It wasn't until your horse had calmed down and stood on all four hooves that you loosened your grip on the reins.

"Moya solnishka..." his whisper made you shiver. You lifted your head and looked into those familiar, damned dark eyes that were the cause of all your troubles.

You sat still as he rode his horse closer to yours so he could touch your cheek with his hand. His thumb caressed your skin gently. "I've been waiting a long time for you."

You shivered, hypnotised, as you watched him lean closer to you. A familiar warmth spread through your body as you felt him amplify your powers. But his lips were too close for you to notice anything else than him; his touch and dark eyes, which were looking only at you...

You wake up suddenly. Your hand goes to your neck. Panicked, you discover that your grandmother's necklace is not there… you must have lost it in a fold.

"Fuck." you whisper, running your hand through your hair. The only defence against dreaming about your soul mate is gone. And now he knew who you really were... just as your fears were confirmed.

He was your soulmate. General Kirigan, Darkling, Black Heretic, the boy who was your first kiss hundreds of years ago…

The monster who created the fold…

And as it turned out… Aleksander Morozova.

You look around the room, realizing you're in a tent. And the red keftats of bustling healers confirm your worst fears.

During your journey through the fold, the ship was attacked by volcra. And you, obviously not wanting to die or let other people die, decided to use your power. You've done it hundreds of times before. Only much more discreetly… and you've never fainted from using so much of your power.

Your grandmother must be cursing you from the grave. She warned you a thousand times not to go near Ravka or the fold… and even after her death, you didn't listen to her. Now you have to sneak out of here somehow before word about the sun summoner spreads around the world. Hundreds of years of hiding will be wasted just because you weren't careful enough…

He was excited. He couldn't stand still.

His soulmate, his sun summoner, the solution to all his problems, his little sunshine was here.

He had been waiting for this moment for centuries. He had imagined it thousands of times. However, he never thought that his soulmate would be brought to him by his heartrender after they captured her after rescuing a ship full of people from the fold.

He dismisses everyone from the tent. Only he and she remain.

"It's been a long time, solnishko." he speaks softly. He is prepared for her silence and gives her a moment to process the situation. But he hoped to see a little more enthusiasm from her...

So he takes the time to look at her. On noting all the changes he might notice in her… her cool, indifferent look in those eyes that captivated him so much is one of the worst changes.

He clears his throat. You are still silent. You still ignore him. And Aleksander can't stand it.

"I had an interesting dream recently…" he begins, but you don't pick up on it. You don't really take your eyes off the floor… he's starting to get annoyed.

"You won't look at me?" he asks, waiting for your reaction. However, he finds nothing. Just a blank stare at the symbol he has chosen over the course of several hundred years. Eclipsed sun.

"You won't even comment on that? What a pity. I've always liked your sharp tongue." he says, taking a step towards you. You watched him carefully. He's a little triumphant to see that he's managed to catch your eye. Saints… he missed those damn eyes. "The cat stole your tongue? Or did they finally cut your tongue out for your insolence?"

"I thought you liked my sharp tongue." you snort sarcastically, avoiding his gaze as you realize he won't come any closer.

"She can talk!" he says, clapping his hands. "I was afraid something had happened to you, sunshine." you flinch at his words.

"Don't call me like that." you growl angrily, turning your stern gaze on him.

"You told me to call you that yourself. Don't you remember?"

"And now I take away your right to do so, Black Heretic. Or maybe you prefer a Starless Saint? I think I remember that you wanted to become one; what a pity people didn't even try to remember your name." you taunt him, and for a moment you see that he is offended, even hurt by your words, but his eyes quickly become blank, unmoved by your words.

As if he had heard them hundreds of times before and gotten used to them…

"I don't remember you being so… hostile to me before. What has changed?" he asks instead, watching you carefully and looking for answers in your eyes. But after all these years, you too know how to hide your emotions behind a stony mask of cold indifference.

"Maybe you didn't know me at all?" the question hangs between you for a while. You see for a moment that he hesitates with his answer, but his indecision is quickly replaced by a mocking, derisive smirk.

"When I heard about the mysterious Grisha, who can summon light and was stupid enough to throw herself into battle against hundreds of volcra, I immediately thought of you. And guess what…"

"At least one of the two of us should be concerned about Grishas' welfare. Why am I not surprised it's me and only me?" you see him clench his fists in rage when you insinuate that he's selfish, that he doesn't care about his people.

"Or maybe you don't know me at all?"

"I know men like you."

"There are no men like me. There are no others like us. And there will never be. I thought you had enough time to accept and understand it." he says bitterly, staring at you, disappointed. "Anyway, I have to go through the formalities. Your sleeve, please."

You stand still, too stubborn and angry to cooperate with him. He snorts, expecting your reaction, and takes two steps over the distance between you. You lift your head slightly, giving him a defiant look. He just gives you that irritating, confident smirk and grabs your hand gently, rolling up your sleeve himself. His dark eyes never leave yours. Even when his ring pierces the skin of your forearm.

You're so intent on each other that there might as well not have been that beam of light between you that shot the moment he made a small cut on your arm. It's just you and him. And from the unreadable smirk on his face, you might as well expect anything.

If you used to do it easily, now you can't read his eyes anymore. A skill he had to acquire over time. Hiding true emotions.

You both have changed. Each in its own way. He was no longer the nameless boy you met. And you weren't the mystery girl he used to know. He became the darkness he so often summoned... and you became the light you were meant to carry. If you once had anything in common, now you are completely strangers. Time heals wounds... or deepens them, but it always and undeniably changes people.

But neither of you could deny the connection between you. Even after all this time and even after what happened. It was a bound that was pulling you both towards each other…

"You and I are going to change the world, Y/N." you shivered hearing your real name for the first time come out of his mouth as lightly as if he had always called you that. Like he's always known you by that name deep in his heart.

Even if you didn't agree with him, you have to admit that he was right...

It's gonna be forver or it's gonna go down in flames...

[sjsmith56]

The Duality of Nature, Chapter 27 - Celebrate

Summary: Winter takes part in the Christmas celebrations. Shuri finds out the truth and challenges Winter.

Length: 5 K

Characters: Noelle, Winter, Winnie, Sam, Peter, Shuri.

Warnings: This is mostly fluff but there is an aura of melancholy over it.

Author notes: Quotation of T'Challa's words to the world are from the end of the movie, Black Panther, 2018.

<<Chapter 26

It turned out that they needed the extra time as the team was called out on a mission two days later.  Pirates had seized a cargo ship off the eastern coast of Africa, demanding a ransom for the release of the crew and ship.  Everyone was called into the mission although Tony stayed at the compound and remote controlled the Iron Man suit.  It took them two days to plan the rescue and less than an hour to implement it as they sent in all the Red Wing units after they were miniaturized by the shrinking technology used by Ant Man and the Wasp.  Once they confirmed the location of each pirate, the husband-and-wife team began their diversion that allowed everyone else to board.  Not a shot was fired, and none of the hostages were hurt during the rescue.  Navy ships from three different countries closed in on the location to take over control of the pirates and the team were soon on their way home. 

On their return, Noelle hosted a tree trimming party inviting most of the Avengers to take part in decorating the tree or decorating either cookies or a gingerbread house if they wanted to do that instead.  When Winter arrived, there were already other people there, sipping egg nog, eating snacks, and taking part in one of the activities.  Christmas music was playing while Winnie and Paul sang along at the top of their lungs. 

"Papa Winter, you came!" yelled the little girl when she saw him.

He picked her up, holding her on his hip.

"You invited me.  Of course I came."  He waved at everyone, noticing that's what Peter did.  "What are you doing?"

"Decrating the tree," she stated.  "You wanna do that with me?"

"Okay, how do I do this?"  Carrying her over to the tree, he looked at what had already been done, noticing a lot of decorations along the bottom of the tree but barely any higher up.  "Would you like me to help decorate up higher?"

She beamed, then wiggled to be let down.  Going over to the assortment of decorations, she picked one out, put it into his hand, then pointed where it should go.  After placing it there, she gave him another, then another, directing him on its placement.  Noticing many of the decorations were concentrated in one small area, which wasn't usual according to the research he had done on the internet, he suggested they spread them out, but Winnie wouldn't hear of it, bringing smiles from the other adults.  He looked to Noelle, but she just shook her head.

"Winnie is in charge of the decorating," she said.  "I'm in charge of Christmas baking."

She took her phone out of her jeans pocket and flipped through her photo gallery to the previous Christmas, showing him the tree after Winnie decorated it.  It was ... definitely different.  Then she showed him the tree on Christmas Day.

"In this home, Christmas is for Winnie."  She leaned in close.  "I usually wait until she's in bed to gradually move things around a few ornaments at a time.  By Christmas Day it looks a bit more normal."

Considering the look of joy on Winnie's face as he put the baubles in place according to her directions, he put aside his concerns and allowed her to take control.  Eventually, her attention was refocused on decorating the walls and together they put up a variety of different garlands and fairy lights that definitely made the space look festive.  Winnie was so pleased with how it looked that she took Winter by the hand and walked him around the room, as if they were doing a walking tour of Christmas lights.  If he felt like he was on display he didn't say anything as he was more interested in her reaction. 

Two days after their return Winter and Carol were summoned to be fitted for the custom-built environment suits that Tony designed.  Although they could have used standard environmental suits used in the space industry, the perfectionist in him felt he could do better.  Harley agreed and the two men came up with a design that would keep both individuals safe from the gaseous vibranium environment, while keeping that universe safe from them. 

Winter and Yelena continued working on the creation of the photo album, acquiring pictures taken by others.  It was a slow process as they both had training sessions; Yelena with her regular workouts, while Winter and Carol were being instructed on the use of the navigation system on the transport platform, using a simulator that was programmed to run as if it was in a heavier gaseous environment.  Just like the probe, it had to operate in the near zero K temperature, without the temperature of its electronics increasing to the point of igniting the vibranium.

When the photo album was finally completed about ten days before Christmas, Winter thanked Yelena for her help then asked for one more favour.  He wrote a letter to Bucky, in Russian, and asked her to give it to him when he was restored to his rightful place.  At first, she looked strangely at the envelope, even though she was aware he planned to withdraw completely into their shared mind.  But he was adamant that it was something personal he had to do for the man whose brain he shared for so long.  She also helped him wrap the other presents, feeling extra festive herself while decorating the packages.

Winnie's bicycle was delivered to the compound.  Winter waited until after the little girl was asleep to pick it up from the loading dock.  He had already told Noelle of it; in case she was thinking of getting a bicycle for the little girl.  Carrying the box back to his quarters, he opened it, checking every part against the parts sheets in the assembly instructions.  He also checked every piece of cardboard to make sure something wasn't taped to it that would be needed to assemble it.  Working methodically throughout the night he put the bicycle together without a problem, proving to himself (and Sam) that he was more than capable of the task.  Once more he asked Yelena for a favour, requesting it be kept in her quarters, so that Winnie didn't see it. 

A week before Christmas, an evening hayride, followed by a bonfire was scheduled.  Winnie came to the door of the quarters Winter and Peter shared, to ask the two if they were going.  They both stood in the doorway, listening to her.

"You have to come," she insisted.  "There's horses, and hot cocoa, and summores and we gets to sing around the fire.  Please?"

"Sure, Winnie Bear, I'll come," said Peter, who had planned to attend because the part of him that was still young at heart enjoyed the experience.

"Do I have to sing?" asked Winter.

"Only if you want to," she replied, then she leaned close to him as if to tell him a secret.  "Papa always pretended to sing by moving his mouth, but no sound ever came out."

He heard a snicker from the other doorway, where Noelle stood watching.

"I'll come," he decided.  "But I won't sing, and I won't pretend."

"Okay, I'll sing for you."

She skipped back to her door then turned around and waved.  When Winnie and Noelle arrived to pick them up, the little girl wore a snowsuit.  Noelle was also dressed for the elements and brought a heavier winter coat of Bucky's for Winter to wear, as well as heavier gloves.

"It isn't that cold out, but you'll feel it after a while," she said.  "You can borrow these."

"Thank you," he replied, shedding the thinner jacket he was going to wear and putting the heavier one on. 

Together they walked outside where there were two flatbed wagons pulled by teams of horses.  The large draft horses were surrounded by staff with children, waiting quietly as the children stroked their sides and necks.  Winnie asked to be lifted up for her opportunity, and Winter obliged, although he wasn't sure of the safety of being around these giant creatures.  He realized his fears were baseless as she softly spoke to the horses while she ran her hands over their necks.

"You're so pretty," she murmured to the one, a brown Clydesdale with a white blaze on his forehead and white feathering on his lower legs.  "What's your name?"

The operator gave her a large piece of carrot to feed the horse, Goliath, and she held it flat in her hand as he took it from her.  The call was made to board a wagon, and they sat on the hay bales, covering themselves with thick blankets.  Winnie sat in between her mother and Winter.  With a small lurch, the hayride began and the sound of bells on the harnesses of the horses rang through the frosty night air.  They followed the reservoir halfway along its length before turning towards where the bonfire was situated.  By the time they got there everyone had rosy cheeks and runny noses but there was laughter and then excited cries at the sight of the fire, its warmth felt from some distance away.  Several of the compound's fire crew stood monitoring the blazing mound.

More hay bales were scattered around for people to sit on, and they covered themselves with the blankets as cocoa was distributed.  Parents were asked to supervise their children in the making of s'mores at several smaller fires set up just for that purpose.  Noelle helped Winnie make hers then made one for Winter, bringing it to him.  He looked at the foil wrapped packet with curiosity.

"What do I do with it?" he asked.

"Open it," mumbled Winnie, her mouth already full of the melted chocolate / marshmallow mixture.  "Then eat it."

Tentatively, he took a bite of the graham cracker, then his eyes widened as the string of melted marshmallow threatened to drip all over the front of the borrowed coat.  Following Winnie's example, he used his fingers to pinch it off and pushed it into his mouth, revelling in the taste of the warm chocolate mixture.  He licked his fingers once he swallowed to get the bits stuck there.

"It's good," he declared loudly.  "What is this called again?"

"Summores," stated Winnie, as her mother smiled at her.  "It's the bestest, isn't it?"

"It is the bestest," he agreed.  His eyes met Noelle's in the darkness, and he smiled at her, silently thanking her for letting him experience this moment.  "Do you want another?"

"Yes, please," she answered.  "I'll show you."

Together they assembled their next foil packet, then put them in the wire baskets with long handles provided just for that purpose, with Winter holding them over the flame.  After a time, he pulled it back in, then tossed some snow on the packet to cool one down before handing it to Winnie.  The second one proved to be enough for her.  Winter had several more, unable to stop himself from eating the sweet treat.  Eventually, he realized that he, Thor, and John Walker were the only ones still eating them and the three men finished as it seemed the singalong was about to start. 

Song sheets were handed out and by the light of the shrinking bonfire they sang many Christmas standards.  Winter smiled when he realized most of the smaller children had their own lyrics to the songs.  Jingle Bells even had some of the adults singing alternative lyrics from what was printed on the song sheet, that involved the fictional superhero, Batman.  When he asked Peter about it the younger man laughed, saying it was something that had been passed down since the 1960s when there was a Batman TV show.  No one seemed bothered by the changes and there was lots of laughter.  Eventually, some of the children began falling asleep and almost everyone boarded the wagons, although the fire crew stayed to put out the bonfires.  As they rode back to the compound, he noticed Winnie's eyes drooping and picked her up, cradling her in his arms.  When they stopped, he switched her to a more secure position and stepped off the wagon as Peter offered his hand to Noelle.  Together they walked on the hard pack of snow to the entrance then into the hallway of their quarters.  Following Noelle into the Barnes' quarters, Winter laid Winnie down on her bed, and pulled her boots off before Noelle spoke.

"I'll take it from here," she murmured.  "Thank you for carrying her.  I'm at the point in my pregnancy where she's almost too heavy for me."  She took Winnie's gloves off, then unzipped her snowsuit before glancing back at where he stood and watched.  "Did you have a good time?"

"I did," he answered.  "It was very enlightening.  Everyone seemed to like being together, especially the children."

"There is a saying that Christmas is for kids, but I think most everyone likes it," she said.  "It brings back memories of simpler times.  Even Bucky, with all he had been through, had good memories of Christmas with his family and Steve."

"There are a few that stand out even to me, but this was different, seeing it through Winnie's eyes.  She really loves life, doesn't she?"

"She does.  The play school is having a Christmas concert on Monday afternoon at 3 pm.  Would you like to come?"

"I'll try," he said.  "They think the suits and the platform will be ready this week and I may be needed for last minute fittings of the suit."

Pausing as she pulled the snowsuit off, Noelle stood up and faced him.

"I heard.  They want to attempt the mission on the 26th.  Are you alright with that?"

"Yes, it was my suggestion.  I know you want Barnes back as soon as possible."  He hesitated.  "If I don't get a chance to tell you before then, I appreciate how you became my advocate.  You gave me an identity and treated me as a person from the beginning.  It was kind of you."

She smiled.  "Bucky shared some of what he went through when he was with HYDRA.  Even though he knew he had a name and a previous life, it was Steve calling him by his name that unraveled what they did to him.  There was no going back for him, even though he barely remembered anything.  It seemed right to give you a name so that you knew you were an individual and not the Asset, not the Soldier, not what they made you.  I'm sorry that when Bucky is reintegrated that you'll be in the background again.  I think you deserve to have your own life and destiny.  It just isn't possible."

He almost told her the truth but said nothing.  Instead, he stepped forward and kissed Winnie on her forehead, then he gently squeezed Noelle's arm before he left.  When he returned to his quarters, he realized he forgot to return Barnes' jacket and gloves.  It would have to wait for the next day.

Winter did make it to the concert, watching all the children, wearing an assortment of red or green caps with bells on them, or antler headpieces, singing different songs.  There was some amusement at how some children seemed to stand still, not singing but instead staring off into the distance, while others, including Winnie, were filled with the spirit of the season and didn't just sing but danced during the performance.  It was sweet and adorable, and all of those other descriptors that Winter didn't quite understand before then but did now.  After the last song was sung, and an announcement made that the large Christmas tree in the dining hall was about to be lit up, the children were each given a small treat bag, wrapped up in Christmas patterned cellophane bags with colourful ribbons sealing the top, Winter waited with Noelle, Sam, and Dawn in front of the stage.  Paul Wilson made a beeline for his dad, who caught him up in his arms and lifted him.

"Did you see me, sing, Dad?" The little boy's enthusiasm shone in his dark eyes.  "I sang good, didn't I?"

"You did," answered Sam, tickling his son's belly.  "I took a video of it to send to Aunt Sarah."

"Mama, did you see me dance and sing?" asked Winnie.  "Miss Wendy said we could dance if we wanted to, so I did."

"You're a very good dancer," answered Noelle.  "Best one up there, wasn't she Winter?"

"I liked it very much."  He kneeled down to Winnie.  "Your dress is very pretty, and you dance very well."

She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him hard.  His eyes closed briefly as he accepted the hug then he stood up, still holding on to her. 

"Shall we go see the big tree now?" he asked to the approval of the others.

It was crowded when they got there, but they found a spot where Noelle and Dawn could sit with the children on their laps.  The large tree, placed in front of the wall of windows, looked festive, covered in red and gold decorations, and topped with a large gold star.  A display of large presents and gold wire reindeer sculptures, along with a large red chair, completed the arrangement.  As Christmas music played in the background, a murmur went through the crowd as word of a special visitor was shared.  The desire of every child there was realized when Santa Claus appeared.  Winter watched, as the red-clad figure's name was called out by many, even from Winnie and Paul.  Booming out his traditional greeting, the big man then welcomed everyone for the tree lighting ceremony.

"That is not Santa Claus," murmured Winter to Noelle.  "That is Sergeant Macintosh from the motor pool."

"Shh," she replied.  "We all know that, but the kids don't.  They just see Santa Claus.  Let them have this."

He studied the rapt faces of the children around them, at the way they listened to every word that Santa said, about being good and kind to people and to always carry the spirit of Christmas in them.  Then Santa engaged everyone in a countdown and at the end of it, the lights on the tree came on, as well as lights that were strung everywhere, hanging down like icicles from a roof.  It was, he admitted to himself, pleasing to the eye.  By the reaction of everyone there, not just the children, it was the perfect way to celebrate the coming holiday.

A final joint meeting of the teams that designed and built the environmental suits and the transportation platform was held on Thursday, December 23.  Winter and Carol Danvers both attended, as the timetable for the journey into the vibranium universe was gone over.  Their last fitting in the suits had been completed.  Shuri and Ayo were also in attendance, as the princess had her own contribution to make to the mission.  When the meeting was adjourned, she appeared in front of Winter.

"May we have a private conversation?" she asked.  "We can use this room after everyone else has left."

Although her face was neutral, Winter detected a slight tone of annoyance and perhaps some disapproval in her manner.  It piqued his curiosity, and he agreed.  When the last person exited, Ayo nodded and also left, closing the door behind her.

"Friday, I require complete privacy for this conversation," said Shuri.  "No recordings are to be made."

"Understood," replied the AI.  "You have the room, Princess."

"What is wrong?" asked Winter.  "You seem bothered by something."

"Why did you not tell them the truth?" she asked.  "You're not coming back, are you?  That's the real reason the attempt to reunite with Sergeant Barnes isn't being made until the 26th."

He said nothing at first, although he felt his cheeks warm up at her questions.

"What do you mean?"

"A Dora Milaje recruit had her encounter in the cave of sentient vibranium," she began.  "It mentioned that The One is looking forward to you living amongst them.  It assumed we already knew."

Winter sighed, then sat down on a chair, gesturing to her to sit. 

"It's true," he answered.  "Sergeant Barnes requested that we keep it between us, as he didn't want to distress anyone or make them have second thoughts about sending me there."  She was still scowling.  "It is so I can live as a separate entity and not be forced back into a corner of Barnes' mind.  The One have made a new body for me, and a portion of them have assumed individual bodies so that I am not alone.  They are recreating this world in their universe and want me to be a teacher, to show them how to live as individuals."

"Do you trust them?" Her face was full of concern now.  "How do we know they won't keep both of you?  They may want the vibranium in your arm, to reabsorb it into their universe."

"No."  He shook his head emphatically.  "It was my decision, but once I made it, Steve, the first one to become an individual contacted me and welcomed me, in words, thought, and feeling.  They want Barnes to return here, in this body.  They know the arm is part of him, a part he needs.  But they needed someone in return, someone who is learning about being a person, someone who can teach them.  The One is dying.  It may take millions of years, but they sense it and know they must evolve to survive, just as the sentient vibranium in your cave evolved to survive in the warm environment of this world.  It can't go back but now it can communicate with the larger host.  That's how it knew about me staying.  You can't tell anyone.  Please, keep it between us."

"But to keep this a secret from them ...."

He heard a voice in his head speaking Wakandan and repeated the words to her. 

"We all know the truth: more connects us than separates us. But in times of crisis the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers. We must find a way to look after one another, as if we were one single tribe."

She looked sharply at him.  "You throw my brother's words at me?"

"The One is just reminding you of what your brother believed," said Winter.  "This is how it must be.  When Barnes returns, those here will know that I have stayed behind to be a link between our universes, between our tribes.  Isn't it better that I become a means of understanding between two distinct species instead of being repressed once again as I was before?"

"You choose this freely?" she asked.

"I do," he answered, then he smiled kindly at her.  "You care about me, don't you?"

Shuri rubbed her forehead then looked at him.  "For all of my intellect, I think of how I might have summarily excised you from Barnes' mind, if I knew you were there as a separate entity.  I would have destroyed a sentient personality based on the supposition that because you were created by HYDRA that you were automatically evil."

"Except I wasn't created by them," he replied.  "They thought they did, but it was Barnes who created me, who breathed life into me.  I chose to do what I did to keep that small decent part of him alive and hidden from their efforts to erase him.  Once he escaped, I chose to continue living in the background, allowing him to reclaim that which had been scattered into the deepest recesses of his mind.  You made it possible for him to finish the task without the threat of the words or the memory processing machine, or the torture.  You probably thought I was one of those pieces that still needed to be reintegrated.  At least that is how I see it."

"Still, I could have easily destroyed you and that would have made me as bad as HYDRA.  Very well, I won't say anything.  Do you know how they will do it?"

"No, I don't but I trust them."

❄️ ❄️❄️

On Christmas Eve, the Avengers held a quiet evening in their own quarters.  At the Barnes' residence, several came to watch It's a Wonderful Life, playing fun games, drinking egg nog, and eating snacks.  Winter sat quietly observing everything, taking note of Noelle's warm ways and Winnie's excitement.  He read her a Christmas story, receiving a hug from the little girl who could barely wait for morning to come.

On Christmas Day, the Avengers met in a common lounge where he watched with some degree of nervousness as the Secret Santa gifts were brought out.  Thor unwrapped his gift, roaring in delight at the Pop Tart Crocs, slipping them on his feet, then offering his hand to whoever gifted them, saying they were just what he wanted.  Winter received his own gift from Bruce Banner, a pair of sunglasses, knowing that the former Winter Soldier found the glare from the snow outside very bright.  He slipped away to Yelena's quarters with her, and wheeled out Winnie's bicycle, bringing it to the lounge.  As the little girl approached it, with her mouth open, he smiled shyly when she hugged him around the legs for the "bestest present ever."  She put the helmet and accessories on, then posed for a picture to show her in "Frozen stuff."  Finally, he handed a wrapped box to Noelle and looked her in the eye.

"This is for you to give Sergeant Barnes when he returns," he said.  "It has everything he missed while he was away."

She unwrapped the paper, then opened the photo album, seeing herself and her daughter, through the eyes of the man who inhabited Bucky's body, recognizing how much he cared for them to give her such a gift that was really meant for her husband. 

"Thank you, Winter," she said, touching his hand with hers.  "That was very thoughtful of you.  I appreciate this more than you know."

She handed him a gift, which surprised him.  It was a framed picture, of him and Winnie, taken after she tripped and fell, skinning her knee.  It was the day of the joint training session with SHIELD and SWORD recruits, but he was looking after Winnie.  After she fell, he brought her to the medical centre, then went ahead to treat her himself as everyone else was busy, gently cleaning the scraped knee, then smoothing aloe vera lotion on it, before putting a Disney bandage on it.  When he motioned to help her down Winnie insisted that he wasn't finished.

"You have to kiss it better, Papa Winter," she said, looking up at him with the same blue eyes as his own.  "Member?  Papas have to kiss all owies."

"Well, then I have to kiss it better," he smiled, only for her, then bent his head to her knee and kissed it.

That was the moment Noelle took the picture.  For the longest time, he stared at the picture in his hand.  Then he swallowed and looked at her as if he had never received anything so precious.

"Thank you," he murmured.  "I will cherish it always."

He disappeared then, for several hours, missing the announcement that Christmas dinner was ready.  Sam had to go looking for him, finding him in a west facing room, where the sun was low on the horizon.  Neither man said anything at first as Sam approached him, standing next to the dark-haired man.  They both watched as the sun dipped below the trees and the sky darkened, then Winter turned to him.

"On the morning after I found myself alone in this body, I looked at the sunrise.  Even though Barnes had been free for several years it was the first sunrise I ever saw as a free individual person.  This is the last sunset I will ever see as an individual."

"Yeah, if The One can do it and if everything works," said Sam.

"It will work," countered Winter.  "Stark, Banner, Shuri, Dr. Strange, and young Peter have all been involved in the creation of the apparatus to enter the portal long enough to find Barnes.  Others have helped build the environmental suits that will protect our bodies.  They are the best minds of their time.  I am confident of their success."  He breathed out, as if he was sighing.  "The One has assured Barnes that it can be done.  Yelena has a letter for Barnes, from me.  If he chooses not to read it, please tell him that I respected his marriage to Noelle.  There was never any impropriety on her part.  She never once wavered in her devotion to him.  He is a lucky man to have the love of a woman like her.  Winnie ... Winnie is wonderful, a beacon of joy." 

"I will," promised Sam, wondering why the man was talking as if he was leaving.  He gave out his own sigh.  "Winter, you are worthy.  Thor believes it and so do I.  Now, come and enjoy a Christmas dinner with people who care about you."

With a slight smile, Winter turned away from the window and followed Sam out to experience his one and only Christmas dinner as an individual person.  No matter what happened on the following day, he would always remember this Christmas, the only Christmas he would experience as a unique person, as being special.

Chapter 28>>

Series Masterlist

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🟪EARLY ALERT RESULTS, LIONS!, and NO DEAL - Real time from Israel  

✡️Omer count 6 tonight.

✡️Erev Shabbat - Parshat Shemini - On the eighth day, following the seven days of their inauguration, Aaron and his sons begin to officiate as kohanim (priests); a fire issues forth from G‑d to consume the offerings on the altar, and the divine presence comes to dwell in the Sanctuary. (Leviticus 9:1)

✡️Tonight is Shivi’i Shel Pesach, the 7th and last day of Passover, the splitting of the Red Sea, a holy day (holiday).  (Outside Israeli celebrated for 2 days, the 7th and 8th day.) 

⚠️HOME FRONT EARLY ALERT - during this morning’s Houthi missile attack we got a chance to see Home Front’s early alert.  Here’s what it did:

.. 5 minutes before the regular alert, a “notice” sound and a message was displayed by the Home Front Command app IF you were within the missile zone.

.. The message said: “In the next few minutes, alerts are expected in your area - You need to find a better location that will provide the best protection in your area.”  (Minor translation problem there, the word better should be eliminated.)

.. The other alert apps such as Tzofar and Cumta DID NOT display an early alert.

.. The IDF spokesman channel put out the same alert, with 4 minute warning.

.. But the Pikud HaOref (Home Front) channel DID NOT.  

.. We assume it will take a a few days for the channels and other apps to get the ability.  In the meantime if you want this advance alert, the Home Front Command app is the only option - available on the Play and App Stores in Israel, in English.

⭕HOUTHI MISSILE FRAGMENTS landed in Beit Fajar, near Bethlehem, Judea, including a large piece on someone’s patio.  Missile intercepted by Israeli Arrow-3.

▪️LIONS!  4 lion cubs were confiscated by the police after being smuggled into Israel and turned over to the nature authority.

▪️STUPID TERROR - An IDF unit were ‘ambushed’ near Eviatar, by boulder throwing terrorists attacking the road.  They responded with live fire, 2 terorrists eliminated, 1 wounded.

▪️ANOTHER MK RECEIVES DANGEROUS LETTER - A suspicious envelope was placed at the home of MK Avi Maoz. Police and fire departments arrived at the scene, bomb and hazardous materials squad handled it.

♦️LEBANON - overnight IDF attack on a Hezbollah weapons depot, targeted elimination this morning.

♦️GAZA - Targeted airstrikes with significant terrorist elimination in both south Gaza, Bani Suheila, and north Gaza, Tel al-Za’tar.  

🔹US vs the HOUTHIS - major US attack overnight destroying the fuel terminal at the port of Ras Issa, including the port, storage and fuel transport trucks.

🔹US and ISRAEL vs IRAN - Trump on the report that he "waved" Israel away from attacking Iran: "I wouldn't say I waved them away. I'm just in no hurry to do it (want to explore another path). Iran must not have nuclear weapons. I want Iran to prosper and they can do it easily or not... and that would be bad for them."

Security source to Ch. 14: "Trump spoke with Netanyahu and said that the Iranian problem will be dealt with and, in addition, the Israeli wait will pay off.”

🎗️(NO) DEAL - Hamas has rejected Israel’s latest offer, which was for 10 hostages for 45 days of ceasefire - and for an end to the war, disarmament and the exile of Hamas leadership.  Hamas continues to demand an immediate end to the war, full withdrawal of the IDF including from the Egyptian-Gaza border to allow them open access to smuggling, no disarmament, massive free aid, and the world to pay for and rebuild Gaza.  And all of that with no guarantee of the return of all the hostages.

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 18 - Sapling

📖 This is it - The one song that inspired this entire fic. It’s so bittersweet I’ve gotten to this point. When I posted Part 1: Be Still, a small part of me thought I’d never get here.

I know everyone is probably sick of me saying thank you, but I honestly cannot stop. I could have never imagined the support or the amount of people who’ve loved this story as much as I’ve loved writing it. Whether you’ve been here since I posted all those months ago or just started reading, I cannot describe how important each and every one of you is to me.

Here’s Part 18: Sapling - The one I’ve been waiting for 💛

(If there was ever a song to listen to for this story, even though I know most of you guys don't, this one is it. I hope you do💛) . It's Liz through and through/and the one after this one, but more on that later.)

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, mentions of an original child character, sexual themes, angst, fluff, deployments, apologies, and mentions of shitty family dynamics.

# 5k words

Part 17 | Masterlist | Part 19

"Attention on Deck!"

Jake and Bradley stood in sync in the empty hanger, the sound of metal chairs scraping across the hard stone floor. Much like the day they were called in for the Uranium run, the space had been turned into a mock classroom. Only two desks sat before the podium this time, and Jake and Bradley were the only ones who had been requested to report.

Jake kept his eyes forward as two pairs of footsteps echoed off the hangar floor behind him. Cyclone appeared in the corner of his eye, the man holding two manila envelopes and a thick black binder. He wondered what awaited him or Rooster in those files. While Maverick had torn them apart for the dramatic display, he wouldn't be surprised if Cyclone suddenly decided that wasn't enough.

But Jake could only think it made sense the patterns and exercises they had been flying for the past week were in preparation for something greater.

At least, he hoped they weren't getting kicked out.

But as Cyclone each tossed a folder in front of him and Bradley, Maverick trailing close behind indicated it had to be something worse. Even with his eyes facing forward, Jake could catch the look on the Captain's face out of the corner of his eye.

Worried and apprehensive.

Jake had an answer to his question. It wasn't a reprimand from his and Bradley's dangerous flying from the week previous.

This was a special deployment.

Cyclone stepped up onto the podium, not once lifting his eyes as he dropped the binder down to the wooden surface, stating, "You may be seated."

Jake and Bradley did as they were told, instantly reaching for the papers in front of them.

"Good afternoon." Cyclone finally looked up and nodded to the pair. "Intelligence has gotten word of another illegal facility violating United Nation’s Peace Treaty accords. The flight tests you and your team have been flying these past weeks were a simulation of the area we expect to the best of our intelligence."

Most of what Cyclone was saying flew over Jake’s head. Not after Cyclone explained the stakes. Not after Jake started to read the mission report. Next-generation fighter jets. In enemy hands. And they wanted an air assist while they went after the factory responsible for making them.

Even if he believed he was the best, there was too much at stake for him to say he could make it out of there unscathed confidently.

This was the literal fucking definition of a suicide run.

Rooster suddenly pipped up from beside him as Cyclone paused. "Has the rest of the Squad been briefed, sir?"

Cyclone started him down, his face emotionless. "You misunderstand me, son."

Maverick bowed his head as Cyclone continued, "Only the both of you are going. This is a two-person run."

Bradley side-eyed Jake, who leaned forward slightly to gauge his reaction. All Jake could do was draw in a sharp breath.

"Take it for what you will, gentlemen. Looks like the Navy was impressed with your reckless display and wanted to award your bad behaviour," he remarked, turning the pages of the files before him.

"Now, the factory will be taken care of by ground forces. The technology and the data within the facility are too valuable to be destroyed. We need two F-18s to assist..."

Jake began to drown him out, despite his instincts telling him otherwise. Cyclone explaining everything to them was only a formality, a chance for them to ask questions. Jake didn't need to. Everything he needed to know would be in the brief.

Time.

That's what was on Jake's mind.

How much time did he have left?

How much time did he have left to make it right?

How much did he have left to give to you? And make it up to Sadie?

He jolted slightly when Cyclone hit the edge of his binder against the edge of the podium.

"Get your affairs in order," the older man commanded, walking away. "You have till 22:00 today."

---

The thick fog settling over your neighbourhood this late at night wasn't helping your current mood. You were extremely uncomfortable at the errieness, the dimly lit street lamps casting an unreal green glow. You couldn't even see beyond the neighbours' backyard from your kitchen window.

The rest of the house was silent, too. The lack of noise indicated the place was empty, except for the occasional creek or rustle of a tree branch against the roof. You were utterly alone, with nothing but your thoughts as company.

You wish you could say it was a welcome notion.

With everything that had happened the night Tyler was arrested, Penny closed The Hard Deck for the week, waiting for the insurance money to come through. The damage wasn't as bad as it could have been, and she didn't really need to close it down, but in a way, you realized she was probably using the chance to take a break.

Or at least try to give you one.

So, she decided to go sailing. That's where Sadie was, sleeping over at her place so they could go out on the water tomorrow. Penny had offered to take you as well.

You had refused.

It was funny to think you suddenly needed to process what had happened - you had never been good at processing shit before, so why would this time change that now?

Maybe you just wanted to be alone.

Even the cup of tea you made wasn't helping, having long since gone cold and still practically full. You didn't know what to think, finally alone for the first time in a while, finally finding the opportunity to allow yourself to sit and process.

And you still couldn't bring yourself to do it.

It wasn't as if you didn't know what you should be thinking about. You were thinking about all of it... Tyler, Sadie, Jake... and..

No, not that one yet.

Each thought was laid out in your head like an itemized list, neatly written and bullet-pointed. Each stood out on their own, colour-coded and organized into categories to the point you couldn't do anything more with them. Picturing each in your mind was easy, but you couldn't bring yourself to do anything beyond that.

Something was stopping you from going deeper. Maybe you didn’t want to admit you didn’t know how.

A hard couple of knocks on your front door startled you out of your trance, echoing through the quiet house. It took you a moment to acknowledge them and realize they were, in fact, coming from your front door. You placed your mug on your kitchen table, scraping your chair along the title as you made your way to the front hallway.

It wasn’t quick enough for the person on the other side of the door, impatiently knocking their knuckles against the wood in rapid succession again. The sound quickened your pace, socked feet on the coarse rug thumping with each step.

In retaliation to the urgent knocks, you ripped the door open in an aggressive pull, only to find Jake hunched over, forearm resting on your doorframe. His head was bowed, handing low between his shoulders until he realized you had finally opened the door. Lifting his head, several emotions flashed across his face. Hope. Despair. Then, determination, with wide and wild eyes staring back at you.

You realized he was dressed in his flight suit, his hair was flicked back, and his face looked like it had been freshly shaven.

And he was panting like he had run a marathon.

“Jake?”

"I thought we would have more time," he heaved roughly. "I thought we had all the time in the world to figure this out. For me to find a million different ways to say I'm sorry for what I said. For what I did."

The corners of your mouth quivered, and your eyebrows furrowed, knitting together.

"No matter the length of time, I never would have gotten it right. Because there is no right way to apologize for what I said,” he lamented.

He opened his mouth to say something else but froze, the words dying in his throat like he suddenly lost whatever drive he had while coming here. Pushing himself off the frame, he turned towards your driveway, looking lost. With his back facing you, he reached for the bannister of your front porch, leaning over and bowing his head between shoulders.

You didn't know what else to do except remain frozen in your doorway, watching him look utterly defeated.

“Rooster and I got called up. It’s dangerous. Extremely dangerous,” he said, his voice low. “I might be the best, but even this one worries me.”

Whatever feelings of anger or resentment you had been carrying towards Jake were suddenly overpowered by concern.

Despite knowing you would never be privy to the details of the Navy, you found yourself stepping forward, a hand reaching out as you asked, “How dangerous?!”

You stopped yourself from touching his shoulder when he lifted his head, a sad smile on his face as he looked out to your yard. “You know we can’t tell you more than that, Darlin’.”

You crossed your arms below your breasts instead, gripping your elbows with a hint of apprehension as you gulped. “Do you know how long?”

He dropped his head again, shaking it while doing so. “At least a month, maybe two.”

A month, even two, was too long. Not when… You didn’t even know. You didn’t even know what to say or to do. Because Jake had hurt you, had protected you, and then shown up on your literal doorstep late at night before another deployment to leave all his cards on the table.

Sarcasm, sass, or any attitude or brave face you've ever used from behind that fucking bar couldn't save you from this. Not when Jake was facing yet another death sentence.

That fact alone made your heart break just a little bit further.

“George called me,” he told you, filling the silence. “Said the first thing he did was kick the hell bringer off the ranch. I didn’t trust him. But then Janet called, saying his name was on the deed for some tax reasons, so George had every right.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you joined him, coming to stand next to him and gripping the front railing tight. It almost hurt - the way the wood felt under your nails.

"I never expected that. I never expected George to seek me out after what I did to him either. I honestly thought he'd report home, saying the damage had been done," Jake sighed, rocking his shoulders back and forth. "But he did. And the first thing he did was admit he was scared of you."

You dropped your chin to your chest. You couldn’t deny that maybe a little bit of shame was starting to eat away at your stomach. Yelling at George was more than just you being upset at both Seresin brothers. It was a deep-seated weight you had been carrying for too long, waiting for any moment it could unleash itself. George and Jake… had been the perfect excuse to scapegoat the underlying issue you refused to acknowledge in yourself.

Jake straightened himself, turning to face you with a bated breath. You spun with him, leaving your one hand on the railing.

"He told me the reason he wanted to change was not that I had shown him up at darts or that you had torn him apart with your words, but that either one of us should’ve to begin with. You made him realize that.”

You failed to notice Jake’s hand slowly sliding along the bannister, inching closer to yours.

"My relationship with him is anything but fixed. He is more of an asshole than I could ever be. But when I told him he needed to live his own life, he said he couldn’t claim anything he had earned for himself without the hell-bringer handing it to him. Or say he did it with good intentions.”

It wasn’t a shock when Jake slid his hand over the top of yours, gently curving his fingers around your wrist. In fact, you let him, allowing him to pull you towards him as he stepped closer gently.

“But he also said he found you on the beach the night Tyler stormed the bar.”

You failed to hide your grimace at the mention of Tyler’s name, and Jake offered a sad smile. “He said he tried to make things right. Because after I quoted a dead president, he took what you said to him to heart..”

You swallowed hard, knowing just exactly what George had been referring to. It was the same point you made when you yelled at him, the words echoing in your head.

‘So you can gallivant around letting someone who has lived their life decide what you do with the rest of yours?’

And when you asked point blank on the beach the last time, he had been happy. Which was when he did something for himself.

"He's never thought highly of me, but he said meeting you and Sadie was the best damn thing I could have ever done." Jake reached for your other hand, looking down. "Because my arena has two people willing to be in it with me, no matter what I've done."

“I’ve always loved that quote,” you laughed quietly to yourself, trying to avert your eyes.

“I know,” he replied sadly. “It was in a worn book on your bookcase.”

You lift your head, finally allowing yourself to stare into his eyes. It pains you to think you had forgotten how green they were. And how easy it was to get lost in them when so much happened between you.

"I should have let you explain yourself that day."

Jake huffed a small laugh, reaching up to stroke a piece of hair away from your face. “I shouldn’t have said those words to begin with. And not that it’s worth anything, I’m so sorry they did.”

Jake doesn't drop his hand but rather cups the side of your face.

"But you deserve more than an apology on the eve of a deployment. It's not fair to you. But I have to try because there is a chance I might not be able to. Because I'm trying to listen to the advice of a ten-year-old girl who once said she believed in me.

The admission guts you. Sadie’s impact on the world and those around you would always gut you.

“So let me be honest with you now before I don’t have the chance to,” He urged, his thumb caressing under your eye and across your cheek. "I'm in love with you, Elizabeth Beck."

A strangled sob tore from your throat, attempting to pull your hand out of Jake's and your face away from his touch. He was quicker, tugging you forward into his chest with a hand on the back of your neck. You were too weak to protest, allowing yourself to be pulled towards him.

"No, you're not running from this, darlin'," he shushed you, both arms encasing themselves around your waist, preventing you from escaping. "Not this time."

You couldn't do anything but cup your face in your hands, pressing yourself against his chest and sobbing. Tilting his head down, he whispered gently against your ear, "I'm not saying it to hear it back. I'm telling you so you never doubt that I do."

Strange enough, you didn’t doubt him. Not ever - even when he had hurt you.

He kissed your collarbone once through the thick fabric of your sweater, feeling as if he had touched your bare skin. He took a deep breath under your hands, body heaving up once as he gathered the courage to continue.

“Darlin,” he whispered. “ I know I can’t ask this of you, but I can only hope you love me back. Even after… Because I know how badly I fucked up. For a split second, back at the Hard Deck, I thought you would be better off without me."

"You hurt me, Jake," you cried into his chest. "You said those things..."

"I know, darlin'," his voice sounded broken next to your ear. "I went for the things I knew you'd leave me for, not because I believed them. Just the opposite. You didn't need me in your life, in Sadie's life, when I have so much baggage following me around. You didn't need another pair of assholes tainting your life, whether it be George, the hell bringer, or myself."

You gripped his flight suit tight at his confession.

"Then Sadie cornered me on the beach. And told me to get my shit together or not bother coming around anymore. Because you two would be just fine without me," he sniffed. "And it fucking hurt coming from her."

"Oh, Bug," you coo. You're not mad at her for going against your rule.

“I can’t promise I’m not going to fuck it up again. I’m the furthest thing from perfect compared to everyone I know. But I promise, I won't stop trying to get it right or at least stop at how many times I have to apologize to you for being me.”

You hate him. You hate him.

Except you don’t.

“I brought you your favourite flowers the first time I apologized because I couldn’t offer anything else. And I cannot bring you flowers when I’m apologizing for a second time, not because tulips are currently out of season, but because a man shouldn’t do that when apologizing to the woman he loves.”

He let go of your hip to stroke a piece of your hair behind your ear before pressing his lips to your forehead, letting them rest there for a moment.

“I should give them to you just because I can,” he murmured against your skin.

As Jake pulled back from you, he reached down to the side pocket of his flight suit against his thigh, his hand a firm fist as he pulled out something attached to a balled chain.

“So, I can’t ask you to forgive me, Elizabeth. Or even to wait for me. I don’t know what will happen when I am gone. Or if I’m worth accepting an apology from.”

He grabbed your wrist gently, pulling it up between the two of you, only to press something metal into your hand. But rather than let go, he threaded his fingers through yours, keeping the object between the palms of your hands, the chain dangling between.

“But if you can still find it in your heart to trust me, trust me when I say I want you and Sadie in my life. It’s you two or nothing at all,” he croaked, before adding, “I broke my ways for a literature-loving bartender and her ten-year-old niece because they both chose me knowing I am probably the most flawed human being, besides that asshole, ever to grace their path.”

You sobbed at that.

“If I make it back…” he trailed off. You shook your head vehemently. “When you make it back…” You corrected him. Yet, a small part of you died inside when he gave you a hesitant, bittersweet smile.

“I want you to tell me your answer then.”

Jake let go of your hand, leaving behind and revealing a pair of worn dog tags, making you gasp.

“I want these to stay with you until then. So you know I’m with you. Always.”

"Jake.. I can't.." you stuttered.

He ignored you, grabbing them from your hand to grab the chain in both hands. “They’re my first pair. My current set is in my bag.”

Watching him lift and guide the chain over your head, the protest dies on your lips. The intimate act brought him close enough to feel his breath on your face. The weight of the dog tags was a new feeling on your sternum.

"You know, in basic, they scare the hell out of you with these," he said, grabbing one of them and holding it between you. "Tell you that if you crash and burn, these are the bits they use to ID whatever's left."

He glanced away, eyes briefly distant. "They find you, leave one tag, take the other." He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Guess it's also their way of grounding you, reminding you of what’s at stake."

You stared at the tags between the two of you, gulping hard. 

"For me, giving you them is... it's not just some sentimental crap. It's me leaving a bit of myself with you, no matter what happens." 

Your breath hitched, and as he dropped the tag, a new weight was placed on your chest. The fog around you seemed to grow thicker, and if you didn't know any better, you would have blamed it for constricting your breath. 

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "Jake, I... I haven't... I haven't fully dealt with losing her," you whispered, trembling.

"I know you haven't, darlin'," he mumbled, wiping away another stream of tears on your face. "And I'm only adding another burden to your plate." 

Jake leaned forward to press another kiss to your forehead before peering down at your face, taking in the sheer devastation. He caressed your bottom lip, huffing affectionately, “I guess it's only fair. I broke your heart. You need to break mine, too.”

“Jake…” 

As you reached out, your voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Your hands moved around to his back, sliding up against his shoulder blades. He was tall and broad. And as you tried to pull him into you, your arms didn't stretch enough. You wanted to hold to so many parts of him, latch on in hopes he wouldn't leave you so soon. 

You don't know how long you stood like this, on your porch in the fog, holding on to each other. It took you a while, but you eventually realized the two of you started to sway in a silent rhythm, back and forth gently. 

The action was so reminiscent of the night he drove you home. When he found you closing by yourself and swept you into his arms - before everything became so chaotic. 

It makes you look back on every memory with him, like a film reel in vivid technicolour. 

Water and Sand, a Mona Lisa smile. Math homework and Sadie's cheeky smile. Yellow flowers in apologetic hands. Dirty dishes and clean slates. A game of darts and an almost kiss. Walking next to mountains and trees. Poloarids, video chats, and scary moments. Fireworks on New Year's Eve, to a slow dance in safe arms. 

Thunderstorms and Sadie's tears to passionate kisses. First dates, Ferris wheels, Sadie in the hospital, and Jake catching your tears. Bradley lashing out, and Jake standing by. 

Purple blues and orange-reds, the sunset colours that made you cry for your sister for the first time since you don't remember when. 

Looking back on what was leaves you wondering what will be. 

Jake's voice cuts through the silence, faintly humming a Chris Stapleton song. Your voice is muffled against his chest. "I wanted to take you to a country concert for a date."

You felt him smile against the top of your head. "Would you have let me pick you up and put you on my shoulders?"

You huffed affectionately into the fabric of his suit, turning your head to rest your cheek against his chest. “Oh, people would have hated us for that.”

He laughs quietly. “I’m sure you would have come up with something sharp and witty to reply with.”

“Enough to get us thrown out?”

“I could always pull the military service card.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Jake chuckled softly into your hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, swaying on your front porch under the green-lit fog. Not that you would have noticed. You were too busy trying to imprint this into your memory. How he felt holding you, how he smelled, the sensations in your chest. Or how his heart felt beating under your ear.

Until the alarm on his watch ruined it all, and he stepped away from you, pressing another long kiss to your forehead. You felt him grimace each time he tried to pull away.

"I have to go, darlin'," he murmured. "I have to report in 30. Otherwise, I'd drag you inside and abandon my post."

I would have let you.

As Jake lets you go, you reach out to grip the railing again. Before he turns to leave, he says with a smile, "Send me letters if you can."

Watching him proceeding down your front steps, your heart ached in a way it never had before. Your hand moved to the dog tags, gripping them tightly. 

The idea of losing Jake, never seeing that cocky grin or hearing his sarcastic quips again, was paralyzing. But even more terrifying was the thought of him leaving without knowing how you truly felt.

If he were to... no.

You couldn't wait. You couldn't let him leave with things unsaid. The fog outside was thick, and Jake's form was about to become a silhouette in the distance, but you wouldn't let him leave without knowing.

"Jake!"

Running down the steps of your porch, you flung yourself towards him. He spun, eyes wide as you reached for his face, hands cradling either side of his jaw as you pulled him down, pressing your lips to his.

You put everything into that kiss, struggling to breathe, fearing you would lose him before you could ever truly be with him. Jake wrapped his arms around your waist, moulding his lips to yours. And with each press, you commit them to memory, pushing away the thought this may be the last time you could.

You were already struggling to grasp the death of someone you loved. You couldn't survive a second.

Jake always kissed you like he was a man starved of affection. This time, he was holding himself back, hands deliberately resting lightly on your hips, unmoving and researching. His kisses were less than firm, hesitant against your more urgent ones.

It gave you the strength to continue pressing on.

You pulled back with a gasp, looking him square in the eyes. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to tell me you love me and expect me not to say anything. Not to call you out for your shitty perception of yourself when you, Jake fucking Seresin, are worth it."

You can feel the heat on your cheeks and more tears running freely down the sides of your face.

"I do forgive you,“ you rushed out in a breath. “I forgive you for all your faults and everything you will ever do to me, whether you are Jake Seresin or fucking Hangman. Life is short, and... and.. if I woke one morning to find you were gone,  I would never find the strength to carry on had you not known that I lo.."

Jake didn't let you finish, quickly grabbing the sides of your face to kiss you roughly, all open mouth and tongue. You whimpered into his mouth, struggling to breathe and to keep up with the onslaught.

He bent you backwards, your back curling around the sudden added weight of his arm. You tugged on his flight suit in a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you as he attacked your mouth. His fingers were locked deeply into the roots of your hair behind your ear, angling your head just right so he could capture your lips in all the ways he wanted to. In all the ways he might never have the chance to do again.

Jake considered himself selfish. For most of his naval career, he had been selfish. But he never truly felt the weight of that feeling until he was trying to memorize these last moments with you. As if this was all he would ever get to have with you.

It was selfish to do this to you. To kiss you one last time.

Your body is warm under his touch. He tries to imprint the sensation.

Your kisses are firm. He tries to akin the taste.

Your grip on his suit is tight. He tries to remember the pain it creates.

Your whimpers and moans. He tries to imagine they’d be exactly what you’d sound like if he’d ever get the chance to be with you. Truly.

Or if they’d be enough to sustain his dreams.

He knows he needs to go. Needs to pull himself away from you before the next kiss, or the next touch is the one that convinces him to stay. So he tugs away first, and you chase his lips, whining at the loss of contact.

"Tell the bug she was right," it's a whisper against your lips. "And I'm sorry I disappointed her too."

Your bottom lip quivered as Jake finally wrenched himself away from you with a deep grunt. He climbed into his truck and started the engine, backing out of your driveway like a man possessed. As if one slight moment of hesitation or if he looked away from the task at hand and saw your face, he’d drag you back inside the house and lock the two of you away in your bedroom.

He would have if there were more time.

Your footsteps against the pavement were muffled in your ears as you followed his truck. You couldn't bring yourself to look away, even when you found yourself frozen at the end of your driveway, watching his red taillights fade into the fog.

And when you finally found the courage to move, absentmindedly walking back up your driveway, up your front steps to close the front door behind you, you fell against it. Your back pressed hard into the grooves and ridges as you collapsed to the floor. Your tears were falling freely, and the sobs racking your chest were each more devastating than the last. You heaved for each breath, trying to gather the strength to do anything but cry.

For Jake.

For Bradley.

For Sadie.

For Ridley.

...For yourself.

After working the heels of your hands into the corners of your eyes, you grasped for the dog tags, looking down at the worn-out pieces of metal in your palm. You could still make out his name and call sign imprinted on the surface, a finger tracing over the imprinted ridge.

The damn things were both a reminder he was still out there and could never return. A reminder he couldn’t promise more sunsets with you. A reminder there was a chance you'd never get to tell him you loved him, too.

You pressed your fingers to your lips, the other clutching his dog tags over your heart.

Come back to us, Jake.

Please.

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Part 19 - An Evening I Will Not Forget is being edited 👀

Wickett ;)

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Nick Amaro: Protest 

This technically is a pre-story to this but can be read as a standalone. Warnings: Slight mention of Sexual Assult  

Nick walked back into the bullpen as a herd of protesters were being led in. There had been a slut walk tonight. Hundreds of women had flocked to the streets to protest victim blaming and slut shaming. There had been a case of rape that had been all over the news where the police and media had been more concerned with the length of a victim’s skirt and how many drinks she had consumed than going after the big wig producer.

Nick understood their frustration but didn’t see how a bunch of half-naked women walking down a Manhattan Street was going to help. With how hostile the case was going it seemed like asking for trouble.

Trouble had of course been found. A few men had protested the protest. Three had been flashers running through the crowd exposing themselves, one being as bold as to rip down one of the female protester's top. Now gaggles of girls were waiting in the lounge area to pick the assailants out of lineups. Nick notices a barely dressed girl hovering in the lobby. He downs half his energy drink in one pull before going over to tell her to return to the lobby to wait. 

“Excuse me, are you here for the lineup-” Nick cuts off when you turn around and it takes him a moment longer than it should for his brain to register that it was you. He has known you for a couple of months now. You were a cute little thing. A part of the Crime Scene Unit. The two of you had talked and been around each other at various crime scenes. Nick liked you, you were sweet and funny if not a bit of an oversharer. Granted you seemed to enjoy poking fun at yourself and your rather strange decisions that had some interesting fallout and it got people laughing. 

He is used to seeing you in a shapeless, oversized dark blue crime scene jumper. It takes his brain time to process the cute girl to the sexy woman in front of him. He couldn’t help the appreciative lingering glance.

You were wearing high-heeled boots and a short skirt that was at risk of flashing your underwear if you attempted to bend down or move too quickly. It left a glorious amount of toned skin from your calves to upper midthigh on display. A sleeveless wide-dropped, white top that was barely covering your generous chest was only held together with a tie at the bottom snug under your breast struggling to keep them contained. Across your bare stomach written in red was #METOO. His jaw tightened as he wondered about the events that could have caused you to join.    

“Detective Amaro,” His dark eyes shoot up to yours as he focuses on your face. “Yes, I’m waiting on the lineup. All the crazy things always happen at the protests I swear, at least I’m not the one under arrest this time.” You grin self-indulgently. 

“You’ve been arrested at a protest?” He had a hard time believing you could get into any kind of trouble.  

“Once or twice. Charges were never filed.” You cross your arms over your chest, which causes your breasts to strain even more against your white top. The movement caught his gaze. Nick could just make out the lines of your hard nipples through your flimsy top. You seemed completely unaware of his heated gaze as you told him about being sprayed with a water hose and pepper spray, cuffed, and booked for a night while protesting the fracking of Indian land while you were in college.

You thought they felt bad and the only reason you had been released was because you had been pushed down and broken your nose giving you two gnarly black eyes. He couldn’t help but chuckle when you stated that another woman who had been arrested with you spiritually healed and blessed you with sage-infused water in the cell you shared claiming it would help with the physical pain too.

It hadn't. 

“Your college days and mine were very different.” You didn’t get a chance to answer as a cuff perp was walking in and saw you. He ogled you and whistled before being pushed into holding. Nick moved to stand in front of you defensively.

You shift uncomfortably remembering that you didn’t have much on and suddenly feel very exposed. You weren’t the type to flaunt your body. This protest had just called for you to go over the top and out of your normal tomboy zone. You feel the warmth over your shoulders as Nick wraps his suit jacket around you. 

“Thank you,” You shrug further into it sliding your arms through the sleeves. The scent of his cologne, musky with a spicy tinge overwhelms you. Nick is taller than you and the jacket hangs down nearly to your knees. You go to do up the buttons to completely cover yourself before remembering the red lettering on your stomach, you don’t want it to bleed onto his clothes.

You feel his gaze on you. Nick felt something in him change when he saw you wearing his jacket. Lust pooled in his belly and he didn’t think he would ever be able to reconnect his mind with you just being the cute CSU girl who overshares again.  

“You can button that up if you want, I’m not worried about it.” You give him a grateful nod before buttoning the jacket. It helps cover the bare skin, but your chest is much larger than Nick’s and it stretches the fabric bunching it awkwardly, and your breasts are still falling out. 

“You can ask if you want detective.” He had led you over to his desk and you leaned against it. 

“You’ve been sexually assaulted.” You hum in response, “Did you ever press charges? We could file a report-” 

“That’s not necessary. It was years ago.” You play with a ring on your finger, twisting it. “It’s not like the cases you get here.” 

“Any sexual assault-” 

“Yeah, yeah I know the spiel.” You shake your head at him, “It wasn’t anything crazy. Just one incident in college. I was at a party and there was this drunk guy. I didn’t really know him or anything and he didn’t know me, clearly.” You laugh to yourself before rolling your eyes. Then turned back to look at Nick, “He cornered me and slid his hand down my pants. When I told him no, he didn’t listen. He was clearly drunk and thought I was too. I wasn’t. I only had one drink. What he didn’t know was that I had been wrestling since middle school and took kickboxing classes throughout high school.” You shrug your shoulder nonchalantly, “So, when I told him to stop again, and he didn’t I kneed him in the junk hard enough that he spit out blood.” 

“And then?” You start tugging at the jacket sleeve.  

“Then nothing. I got up and left. I was called into the office the next day. They gave me a choice if I didn’t report it as sexual harassment then I wouldn’t get in trouble for violence and underage drinking on campus.” 

“You get harassed, and they try to blame you to get you not to report to save their school image.” You watch his frustration spike and grin at him. 

“You’re a good fit here. It’s nice to know that some cops are still on our side.” He calms down and feels great satisfaction at your praise. “Honestly though, I wasn’t planning on pressing charges. I think he got the picture. I kind of feel bad sometimes... about how hard I hit him. I wonder if he will ever be able to have kids now.” 

“I don’t think it will hurt the world if he doesn’t.” Nick sighed as he read your face. You seemed fine talking about what had happened and he was glad that you had been able to take care of yourself but your not reporting did bother him. You heard your name being called and saw Liv waving to you to do your lineup, so you stood. “Hey, do you want me to call someone for you? To take you home that is. Are you dating someone?” He feels the air pulled out of his sails when you respond. 

“Yeah, Teddy Jackson from homicide. No need to call him though. He’d be pissed if he found out I went to this protest. I don’t feel like another fight.” You give him one more smile before slipping out of his jacket and handing it back to him. “Thank you for the company though Detective Amaro.”     

This was supposed to be a short two-pager. Oh well, I have two more parts to this of Nick pining after you while you are with my made-up homicide detective. I have a notebook of ideas for Nick and I'm trying to get through them before I start up new ideas or they usually get trashed. Hope you enjoyed xoxo

[antiques-for-geeks]

Game Review: Gauntlet

Handheld Game, Tiger, 1988

The 3D Gauntlet you've all been waiting for.

Tiger handhelds were not a significant feature of my childhood. Despite this fact, many people seem to have a love / hate relationship with them. There’s a preponderance of ‘angry gamer’ reaction videos on one hand, a recent physical re-release of a selection of units on the other. They're certainly a part of the modern retro nostalgia factory, and remembered as a gateway to video gaming for a certain generation.

One of the particularly noteworthy things about Tiger and their range of LCD games was their willingness to license the hell out of almost anything (and I mean ANYTHING) that might help shift some units. Sonic the Hedgehog, Afterburner, Outrun, Golden Axe, Street Fighter 2. Double Dragon…. M.C. Hammer?

My outsiders opinion on many of these handhelds is that they seem pretty poor even within the arena of LCD games. I can’t imagine how an attempt at a 1-on-1 or scrolling fighting game could be expected to work on such primitive electronics, and attaching the name of some hot new arcade license to these is just inviting disappointment from anyone familiar with the original game.

Despite this poor reputation, I do own a single Tiger LCD game - a licensed version of Gauntlet, the super popular 1985 Atari arcade game.

The first thing I need to state is that, obviously, this isn’t anything like playing Gauntlet in the arcade. In Tiger’s version of the game you can choose between 2 of the 4 arcade characters, the barbarian or the valkyrie. There’s a cosmetic difference to the choice, with some small LCD elements changed between each character (actually pretty clever!) and a slightly less aggressive bleeping noise when moving and firing as the valkyrie. Less superficially the barbarian starts with more health, but his attack is slower.

Upon pressing the start button you head off into a maze, which unlike the arcade is shown from a fixed perspective behind and slightly above your chosen character. Fairly simple lines are shown to represent the maze walls, and you can move in any of the 4 compass directions, as long as it doesn’t take you through a wall. The maze is populated with two different types of monster, a lizard man and some sort of hooded troll thing. These enemies move around the maze, and you can hit them once they’re next to you using the fire button. Too slow off the mark and they’ll score a hit on you, taking off a larger chunk of your health score, which is displayed as a number in the top right corner of the screen.

Just like real Gauntlet, your health continuously ticks down, and you use a little bit up every time you swing your weapon, which is a gameplay element I flat out dislike.

To aid you in your quest there items scattered throughout the maze:

Keys allow you to walk though one of the walls.

Potions (which the makers have labelled ‘bombs’ here because they didn’t trouble themselves with actually playing Gauntlet) kill all the monsters visible on the screen.

Health restoring flasks which ..restore health.. and look like potions with keys inside them because that's the best they could do with the fixed elements of the LCD screen. 

The adventure is split into a series of distinct levels, and you appear to progress between them by walking a certain distance through the maze in any direction, rather than navigating to a specific point.

There are 4 areas you progress though, with a few levels set in each:

The Castle

The basic maze with no twists. You’ll only encounter lizard men here.

Dark Forest

The elements of the maze itself are unchanged from the castle, but now you face both lizard men and hooded trolls.

The Lost Caverns

The maze walls start moving about, making everything confusing and chaotic.

The Unseen

The maze walls are now invisible, making things an exercise in pure frustration as you helplessly try to find a path.

The last level in every location contains only health flasks, and you can dash about trying to refill as much as possible before moving to the next. Once you’ve completed the last level of The Unseen you simply loop back to The Castle.

History

Somebody told me one of the other kids at school had a Gauntlet handheld game. Since I’d never seen such a thing in the shops I assumed it was bullshit. When I found out as an adult that there actually was a Gauntlet LCD game I was intrigued enough to try and get one. There are various other handhelds that have a maze theme, and Tiger themselves have an earlier game ‘Mouse Maze’ that uses the same basic perspective. They also produced a Robin Hood game, released in the same year as Gauntlet, but that appears to be exactly the same game with altered graphical elements.

Liked

I’ve seen various modern opinions that this game is laughable rubbish, but to my eyes it’s a really impressive effort ...if you’re being objective about the limitations of the format. This game has very clever use of screen elements in order to create a 3D maze populated with different creatures. It has multiple different locations. You can play as multiple characters, and the choice affects the graphics, gameplay and sound. I’m pretty sure I’d have loved this if I’d played it in the 80’s.

Disliked

The physical feel of the controls, at least in my copy of this game, is really cheap and horrible to use. That may be partly down to its age - I don’t have another Tiger handheld to compare it to. Even though I just admitted to finding this quite an impressive effort, it was released only a year before the Gameboy was first introduced in Japan, and you’d be crazy to play Tiger Gauntlet if you had the choice of playing Super Mario Land.

🙉

Annoying sound. As ever.

[paigesbasketball]

Echos of the fallen

Chapter 6: Silent Tactics Shadow the hedgehog x reader Warnings: a little bit of tension Notes: sorry for the abandonment I was swamped with work and exams.

7:05 AM – Warehouse Hideout

The team eventually gathered around the table, still half-asleep and half-skeptical, but Avia’s serious expression kept them from dismissing her outright. A cracked tablet screen flickered to life in front of them, displaying a map of the city marked with G.U.N. patrol routes and known surveillance nodes.

Avia circled a location with her finger. “This is where we intercept him. Not a full-on ambush—just enough to extract him. Quick, clean, controlled.”

Scar, arms crossed and unimpressed, muttered, “You’re talking about kidnapping the Ultimate Lifeform like you’re ordering takeout.”

Zero tapped a key, pulling up Shadow’s movement data. “He’s already sweeping zones near the old docks. He’s closing in, fast.”

Nova piped up, twirling her hair absentmindedly. “You’re sure this isn’t a personal thing? Because if it is, I have a truth serum we could try on him. Works wonders. Also might give him amnesia. Maybe a rash.”

Viper leaned back in her chair, propping her boots up. “So what, we nab him, tie him to a chair, and what—interrogate him? That’ll go over great. Assuming we live that long.”

“I don’t want him dead,” Avia said calmly. “I want answers.”

Scar raised an eyebrow. “And you think Shadow’s the type to just… spill the tea?”

“No,” Avia replied. “But he’ll try to get into my head. And when he does, I’ll be in his.”

Zero leaned forward, intrigued. “You think you can out-psyche Shadow the Hedgehog?”

A long beat.

“I know I can,” Avia said, voice low.

A murmur rippled around the room. Even Scar looked faintly impressed—and slightly alarmed.

Zero cracked his knuckles. “Alright. I’ll work on scrambling their comms and setting up a dummy signal to lure him to the old docks. Should give us a ten-minute window max.”

Viper raised her coffee mug. “To the worst idea we’ve ever had.”

“Second worst,” Scar muttered. “The worst was Nova trying to turn a microwave into a bomb.”

Nova raised a finger. “Technically, it did explode.”

Scar deadpanned. “With you still in the room.”

Avia let their banter roll off her as she studied the map. The plan wasn’t about trust. It was about leverage. Shadow would never stop hunting her down—not until he knew who she really was. So maybe it was time she showed him that he wasn’t the only one who could play predator.

7:45 AM – G.U.N. Surveillance Van, Industrial Sector 9

Shadow stood silently in the back of the mobile command unit, watching the aerial drone footage from the docks. His red eyes narrowed as movement flickered across the screen—anomalous thermal signatures, too evenly spaced to be random.

“Decoys,” he muttered.

Rouge’s voice crackled over comms. “You’re being baited.”

“I know.”

“Still going in?”

“Of course.”

There was a brief pause, then Rouge sighed. “Try not to get kidnapped, alright?”

Shadow didn’t respond. He was already gone, vanishing from the van in a blur of motion—toward the trap he knew was waiting for him.

Because if she wanted to play games, then so be it.

He intended to win.

8:10 AM – The Docks

The abandoned dockyard was soaked in early morning mist, rusted containers casting long shadows across cracked pavement. The silence was almost too perfect.

Shadow landed lightly on the roof of a shipping container, eyes scanning the area.

Then—

A flash.

Gas hissed from a nearby vent.

He spun just in time to block a dart with his armplate, the projectile sparking uselessly.

“Really?” he called out into the mist. “Knock-out darts?”

From the shadows, a soft voice replied. “Didn’t say they were meant for you.”

He barely dodged the net trap as it launched upward, slashing through the cords with a Chaos Spear.

Another voice—Scar—snorted from somewhere out of view. “Damn, he’s fast.”

“Plan B!” Avia shouted.

The ground beneath Shadow lit up—stun mines embedded in the concrete.

He leapt clear just before they triggered, landing smoothly.

“Cute,” he growled. “But predictable.”

Then she was there.

Avia stepped out from behind a container, arms raised, not in surrender—but in challenge. Her eyes gleamed with the same cool calculation as before.

“No more masks, Shadow.”

He stared at her, muscles tensed, Chaos energy humming just beneath the surface.

“You.”

Her smirk was subtle. “Me.”

Then everything exploded into motion.

8:12 AM – The Docks

Chaos erupted in the mist.

Avia’s movements were fluid and rapid, a dance of calculated strikes and agile dodges. Her focus was razor-sharp, narrowly avoiding Shadow’s relentless blows, each strike crackling with raw Chaos energy. The sound of their combat echoed in the silence, metal and energy ringing out in the air like a battle symphony. He was relentless, a perfect adversary—calculated, precise, unforgiving.

But Avia wasn’t just fighting him. She was fighting herself—fighting the distraction creeping into her thoughts like an unwelcome shadow.

Nova’s voice, teasing and light, cut through her concentration.

“Sooo… dream boy showed up after all, huh?”

Avia’s heart skipped a beat. Her eyes flickered, just for a moment, too slow—too distracted.

“Nova, mute the channel!” she snapped through clenched teeth, her body swaying to dodge a heavy strike. She couldn’t let herself get thrown off now. Not when she was so close.

But Nova wasn’t done. “But you said he had you pressed up against a wall in the dream. I’m just seeing if reality matches.”

Her face flushed against her will, the heat of the battle suddenly amplified by the heat rising in her cheeks. This wasn’t the time. But as always, Nova’s voice was relentless, and her team’s playful teasing only served to rattle her, pulling her focus further.

“Bet ten credits she’s blushing right now,” Zero chimed in, smug.

Avia’s pulse quickened as she tried to focus, blocking a punch just a moment too late. She gritted her teeth, the words still echoing in her ears.

“She is,” Viper confirmed. “Classic flustered boss face.”

Her mind was spinning. It was maddening.

“Shut. Up.” Avia hissed, barely dodging another roundhouse kick from Shadow that sent gusts of wind through the air.

Then Nova’s voice once again: “You could cut the tension with a knife. Or a Chaos Spear. Which he’s probably holding.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed as he watched her, sharp as a hawk’s, sensing the shift in her energy. “You’re distracted,” he said, low, almost casual.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Avia retorted, trying to mask the rise of frustration. But it was too late. Her timing faltered just enough—a slight misstep, the smallest hitch in her movement—and Shadow was there.

In a blur, his arm shot around her waist, locking her into place with a brutal force. His other arm twisted her wrist behind her back, his grip unyielding. She struggled immediately, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong, too precise.

Her back pressed against his chest. His breath was warm against her ear as he whispered, “Talk in your sleep?”

Avia’s heart jolted. Her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, every word cutting through her control. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

Her team had fallen silent, the teasing and banter now just a haunting echo in her mind. They were watching. They were all watching.

“Oh, he heard that,” Nova murmured quietly, as if she could feel the tension through the comms.

Avia didn’t know if it was the heat of the battle or the searing embarrassment, but her mind was a blur. Her body was strong, but it was betraying her focus. Shadow’s presence, his proximity, the way his body molded around hers—it was all too much. She tried to shake it off, tried to regain control.

But then Shadow’s voice—low and almost amused—cut through her thoughts, “You’re quiet now.”

Too quiet.

She clenched her jaw, trying to steady herself, but her pulse hammered in her ears. It was too much—too much tension, too many emotions, too much of her mind caught between the fight and everything else.

And then, just as Shadow loosened his grip slightly—just enough to make her think she could break free—she acted.

In a smooth, practiced motion, Avia reached beneath her jacket, pulling out a small cloth soaked in a potent sleeping agent. With all the speed and stealth of a trained operative, she pressed it over Shadow’s mouth before he could react. His eyes widened in sudden realization.

He pulled back, trying to push her off, but the cloth was already doing its work. His body stiffened for a moment, and then… it happened. His muscles went slack, his eyelids drooping.

For a heartbeat, they both stood frozen in time, her fingers pressed to his face, his weight shifting as his consciousness began to fade.

Then, with a soft exhale, he collapsed into her arms—unconscious.

Avia stood there for a moment, chest heaving, her mind racing. The fight was over. The teasing from her team still buzzed in her ear, but now, it had a strange, hollow quality to it. It was done. For now.

She glanced down at Shadow, the formidable Ultimate Lifeform lying motionless in her grip.

She was still breathing heavily, still feeling the weight of the battle, but there was no time for that. She couldn’t afford the luxury of slowing down.

Her team’s voices came through the comms, too late, but none of it mattered now. “What the hell just happened?” Zero’s voice was sharp, confused.

“Is he out?” Viper asked, her tone laced with disbelief.

Avia’s hand hovered for a moment before she released the cloth and took a step back. “He’s out,” she confirmed, trying to steady her breath.

Scar’s voice came next, dry and sarcastic. “Well, damn. That’s one way to shut him up.”

Avia didn’t respond immediately. She couldn’t.

Instead, she knelt beside Shadow, her heart still pounding as she scanned the surroundings, making sure no one else was nearby. She’d won this round, but she knew this was far from over. He’d wake up. And when he did, the game would continue.

But for now, she had the upper hand.

-Cati

[justinspoliticalcorner]

David Rothkoff at TNR:

If you live in the United States, you are in greater jeopardy today than you were six months ago. So is your family. So are your friends and neighbors. Virtually all of the most important parts of the U.S. government that were created to protect the U.S. from the greatest risks we face are being shut down, gutted, or marginalized. What is more, plans and statements of the president and his advisers suggest further cuts are contemplated that increase the likelihood that one or more crises will catch us unawares and that when that happens, we will be much less equipped to handle it than we have been in decades. Our early warning capabilities, our planning tools, our interagency coordinating mechanisms, and the resources available to the government to respond to crises have all been greatly diminished. This will remain true despite planned increases in defense and homeland security spending—especially as those resources are directed at illusory “invasions” and nonexistent “insurrections.” It will remain true despite—and even to a degree because of—costly and distracting displays of military and law enforcement muscle-flexing.

Area after area of the government with responsibility for anticipating, preparing for, and handling major national security threats has been affected. Despite news reports addressing some of these developments individually, the scope of the changes to institutions, personnel, budgets, and policy, and the interrelated and cumulative consequences of those changes, must be better understood and reversed. This should not be a partisan issue. It impacts red states and blue, Democrats and Republicans, cities and rural areas, rich and poor, all of us. Furthermore, this is not an abstraction. Every area impacted is demonstrably one that recent history has shown should be of urgent concern to us.

At the core of this critical situation is the effective lobotomization of our government’s national security “brain” and “nervous system.” We have not had a dedicated national security adviser to the president since May 1 when Mike Waltz resigned. In the intervening six weeks, this critical role has ostensibly been filled by Secretary of State Marco Rubio. But not only does Rubio have a massively challenging job as secretary of state, he is also serving as interim head of the U.S. Agency for International Development and as acting archivist of the United States—head of the agency responsible for preserving all the government’s records. None of these tasks is minor. None can be performed on a part-time basis. Although it has been observed that Henry Kissinger once held both the top State and National Security Council positions, that was considered such an error that President Gerald Ford told me when I interviewed him for my history of the NSC, Running the World, that undoing the arrangement was one of his most important decisions as president.

The State Department is undergoing a major reorganization while dealing with the complex and volatile world situation. USAID, a crucial tool of U.S. foreign policy and one with a vital role to play in helping to contain disease and conflict worldwide, is effectively being dismantled. Rubio is also taking on roles that many former secretaries of state did not get deeply engaged in, like determining who should be granted or denied visa status. In addition, his burdens are increased because there is no confirmed U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, and more than 70 other ambassadorial positions remain open. Rubio simply could not effectively do what he is being asked to do even were he not also being given the most critical national security policy development and coordinating role in the White House. Making matters dramatically more challenging, on May 23, the White House announced the elimination of 100 jobs within the National Security Council, reducing its professional staff to its smallest size in decades. Furthermore, there are credible reports that further cuts are likely, with some estimates suggesting the president is considering reducing the NSC staff to half of its over 350 positions or even further to “just a few dozen people.” This would make the NSC smaller than it has been in decades. But for an entity that is responsible for monitoring the world and threats to our national well-being and then coordinating the development of policies and the implementation of the plans approved by the president, as big a blow as the cuts are, more important is that the entire NSC process is being marginalized by a president who has repeatedly and recklessly made it clear he does not feel he needs advice.

[...] The president has announced he is considering eliminating the Federal Emergency Management Agency and handling all disaster response decisions personally. The ability to anticipate hurricanes and help people prepare for other environmental disasters will be harmed by cuts to the parts of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration that handle those duties. Even cuts to public broadcasting will make it harder for information about natural disasters to get to rural areas. Elevating individuals who don’t believe in climate science certainly also makes matters worse. Cuts at the Department of Health and Human Services have hobbled our ability to predict or respond to pandemics or bioterrorism. Cuts to Medicaid will hinder our ability to prevent or respond to disease outbreaks—once again with impact on rural communities being most negative. Programs to develop and promote vaccines that could help prevent such health disasters have been eliminated, as has vital expertise in epidemiology and immunology, among other key areas.

Even the parts of the government that help us avoid and control financial crises have been weakened dramatically, and financial institutions have been given more latitude to repeat past or invent new forms of risky behavior. Rather than learning from the experiences of our own lifetime, from terror attacks to wars to financial crises to the pandemic, we are actually increasing the chances we relive them or worse in the near future. We cannot anticipate what will come next. With the volatility in the Middle East at the moment, increasing violent extremism at home and abroad, bird flu, measles and tuberculosis cases regularly being reported, market volatility due to trade uncertainty, and the start of hurricane season, what we do know is that serious risks are everywhere.

Donald Trump handles crises badly, as evidenced from both his first and second terms.

[thefanficmonster]

One hell of a love story

Steve Brodt x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentioned Trespassing, Referenced Paranormal Investifations

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What modern love story doesn't feature a bit of crime and paranormal activity?

When two posts broke the color monotony of Steve's Instagram everyone - except Dylan, of course - was rather surprised. Not so much the sudden pop of color, but rather the content of the images.

The photos being of a beachside sunset featuring a lovey-dovey couple.

What those pictures don't reveal is the long, long story behind them, behind the relationship they display. They show the progression, but not the roots....and the tiny criminal activity they include.

So, allow me to tell you the story, for the purpose of which I will take you back to five years ago. Back before Haunted Nights was officially up and running.

A solo urban explorer and a solo paranormal investigator.

Steve knew it was a bad idea going to this warehouse when he it first came to his attention. Although it was visually in an abandoned state, it was still privately owned and under surveillance. So, despite being very used to jumping the occasional gate or fence to get into places, this one specific instance was a rather clear case of trespassing waiting to happen.

And it wouldn't have been at all like Steve to keep it waiting.

With a backpack loaded with some cheap ghost hunting equipment over his shoulder, he made his way to the warehouse, a mask covering his nose and mouth. He did a great job keeping himself incognito and below the radar as he watched each and every step he took, leaves and branches cracking beneath his feet on a few inevitable instances.

He was well aware of the risk he was taking. But it was a temptation he couldn't refuse. He'd been hearing ghost stories stemming from this very place ever since he moved to the town. He just had to live one of those said stories himself to believe it.

Little did he know he'd live a whole different genre of a story.

Three floors and an underground storage unit and nothing. Nothing concrete anyway. No activity with the motion detectors, unrelated words coming in through the Ovilus and no physical activity. Whatever energy may have been stuck between those walls wasn't intelligent or just wasn't in the mood to talk. So, to prevent his trip and taken risks to be in vain, Steve resorted to taking some pictures of the place and the surrounding area.

As creepy as it looked, it was still a beautiful location to capture a few shots of with the underlying agenda of maybe possibly catching something in the photos he couldn't spot with his naked eye.

He'd eventually figured out a way to climb up to the roof which was a pretty bad idea for several reasons. For one, that roof didn't look anywhere near safe to withstand the weight of a human, not to mention he wasn't particularly sure on how he'd get down without injury but hell, he decided he'd cross that bridge when he'd get to it.

And last, and potentially most, was the danger of being spotted by the aforementioned surveillance.

To Steve's utter dismay, that last one was the one that got him in the end.

He'd taken a seat on one of the more solid looking panels to look through the footage he'd captured when he heard the unmistakable sound of car tires over leaves and gravel. All color immediately drained from his face.

Scurrying as quietly as he could up to his feet and over to the opening he'd climbed up through, he found himself forgetting all his previous concerns regarding getting down unscathed. His decade long experience going into abandoned places came in real handy when he managed to land on his feet rather steadily from such a high drop.

He was in the middle of debating whether to make a run for it or hide until the coast was clear when he heard hurried footsteps approaching, giving him no time to pick either option before a figure rounded the corner and startled the ever-loving daylights out of him.

Except, it wasn't a cop. Something he immediately picked up on from the attire - which included a face mask much like his own and a pair of fingerless gloves - and backpack.

Steve knows an urban explorer when he sees one and this girl fit all the criteria.

He was quick to press his finger up to his lips, sliding his mask under his chin to be able to mouth "Cops" to her, eliciting a nod in response.

"We need to hide." She whispers, clearly having taken in his appearance and deemed him one of her own instead a threat she should be mindful of along with the cops that just pulled up to the site.

Fleeting was no longer an option when they heard the boom of someone's voice echoing off the walls in a shout, provoking the trespassers to show themselves.

Although his newfound companion was frozen like a deer in headlights, giving him a look of terror, Steve was luckily thinking on his feet.

With barely a couple seconds to spare, he grabbed the girl's hand, hoping to God it wouldn't earn him a slap, and whispered a quick, "Let's go..." as he tilted his head in the direction of a long hallway leading to the underground unit entrance.

He gave her a second to agree, which she thankfully did with a very accentuated nod, before the two took off down the hall, cringing at the loud thumping of their footsteps.

His heart was beating against his ribcage, blood pounding in his ears. He wouldn't be this anxious over the whole ordeal has he still been alone. The weird need to protect his companion was driving him into a faster running speed and more complex ideas.

"There..." He pointed to the gated off stairwell to the lower level, completely out of breath as he carried on to explain: "Hop the gate, I'll make a distraction."

"What if they catch you?" She whispered back, her voice further muffled by the mask she was still wearing.

Clearly, the need to protect was mutual.

Out of instinct, he gave her hand a comforting squeeze, reminding himself to drop it, "They won't." With those reassuring words, they parted ways.

He lingered around almost a second too long to make sure she got over the gate ok before he booked it to a side exit, purposefully making a ton of noise, leaves crunching beneath the soles of his shoes.

Once he was certain it'd be enough to mislead the cop(s?) that had entered the building, he made a beeline for a window he'd taken notice of earlier while he was exploring the underground unit. It was just wide enough for him to squeeze through and hop down. Just in the nick of time, as well, seeing as how there was barely five seconds of time between the sound of his feet hitting the floor and the footsteps of a cop running out to where he'd made the diversion just moments prior.

Standing stiff as a statue, he listened as the cop spoke into his radio, "I scared the fuckers off." He muffled the sigh of relief that escaped his lips with the back of his hand.

He made a point of waiting to hear the car driving off the property before going to seek out the girl. Props to her - although the space wasn't particularly large, he couldn't pin point her location even after scoping out the area for the third time.

"Hey!" He whisper-yelled, still wary of raising his voice, "The coast is clear!"

He watched in amusement, a smile tugging at his lips, as a lid of one of the empty crates was lifted, the girl emerging from within.

That's when all caution was tossed out the window as the two broke out into laughter.

"Come on, let's get you out of there." Steve said, taking the lid from her and setting it on the ground before taking a hold of her hands, helping her stay balanced as she hopped her way out of the crate.

"Damn, was it hard to breathe in there." She chuckled, finally removing her mask, flashing a bright smile at Steve in the process.

Would it be an upmost cliché to say he was enamored right off the bat? Maybe, probably. But it'd definitely not be a lie. She was indeed beautiful, he was aware of it before she even took the mask of. However now, with her full face on display there was no denying it. The tension had been lifted off her shoulders, replaced by her usual lightheartedness.

He had to recalibrate himself for a moment to regain cognitive thought and remember how to function in human interactions. He successfully managed to extend his hand for a handshake, "I'm Steve, by the way."

She captured it with hers immediately, his smile impossibly brightening, "Y/N. Nice to meet you, Steve. And thanks, I owe you big time."

He shook his head, mind racing as to how to navigate the conversation without making an ass of himself, "Nah, you owe me nothing. Us urban explorers have to look out for one another."

Her eyebrows quirked up, "Ah, so my observation was right, we're in the same boat."

"Well, actually..." Steve smiled, slinging the backpack strap off his shoulder, setting it on the ground to unzip it, "I'm more of a paranormal investigator." He explained, showing Y/N the ghost hunting gadgets inside.

The look she gave him was nothing short of amazed, much to his relief, "No way! I love that! I've always been curious but never had the balls to do it. Not on my own at least." That last bit was added as more of an afterthought but it didn't fly under his radar.

"Well, if it means anything to ya, I've been told I'm great company for ghost busting." He's never been a flirt, ever. Not a successful one anyway. Well, not that he's often put himself in situations where quick wit and a few flirty remarks would come in handy. Still, even he's aware that he handled that well. He picked up what she put down.

And if her beaming smile was anything to go by, he did so well. "Aren't I glad to hear that." She too reached inside her backpack, rummaging around for a few seconds before plucking out a pen and handing it to him, "Maybe you could show me the ropes, instruct me on how to use those thingies." She pointed at his ghost hunting equipment and offering him her arm. An action that earned her a puzzled look from him, causing her to giggle sheepishly, "I have nothing to write on, the arm will have to do. That is if you wanna give me your contact info, of course. No pressure."

All hesitation evaporated as soon as it had plagued her mind when, with the goofiest smile, Steve accepted the offered arm and jotted down his phone number.

"Thank you." She smiled, cheeks flushed.

"No, no. You'll thank me only after I've made a ghost hunter out of you." He mused back, cranking his charm up to eleven and hoping for the best.

"I'll take those words to heart."

"And I'm giving them to you as a promise."

With said that and a professional handshake to officialize it, the two made a deal. A deal that would kickstart a series of wild explorations, fun - and some slightly terrifying - memories, stories they'll be retelling their whole lives. And, of course, a company.

A company known as Haunted Nights.

That intel makes the caption under the aforementioned posts much clearer.

"It's my pleasure to introduce you to the cofounder of Haunted Nights, who also happens to be my fiancée @y/n_hn"

To top it all off, we have Dylan's comment right underneath.

@snevets_nalyd: I can't believe she said yes @y/n_hn blink twice if you need help

[whats-it-mean]

Hey, sorry for not putting that important detail! Can it be a normal request please?

Can I have a few hcs for Tsukasa with a long distance s/o, like Europe distance away?

I hope that that's alright with you.

Have a nice day or night!

Distanced Romantics ☆

A/N - not really headcannons bc i am not at all confident in my ability to write headcannons, so im sorry about that, but i hope you enjoy!! this was very cute to write <3

C/W - None !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You loved Tsukasa. Really, it was hard not to, the way his cheeks went red at every compliment, the way he tried his very best to please you, the way he was the best gentleman he could be for you. He was adorable in every sense of the word, from his hair to his eyes, even to the way he carried himself with so much class. It was all so, so endearing.

And words couldn’t describe how hopelessly in love with you he was. 

Everything about you was perfect to him- you were his best prize, his most precious jewel, and this knight would do anything and everything in his power to keep it that way.

Your phone buzzed, and you found yourself grinning at the illuminated screen as it displayed Tsukasa’s contact name under your notifications. You brought the phone up next to your face, and smiled at the sound of his voice greeting you.

“Darling! How are you?” You could feel his excitement through the screen, and giggled at the pet name he’d always address you with.

“I’m good- How’s everything on your end? I hope that it hasn’t been too busy over at Yumenosaki…”

“All is good, don’t worry! The king has been a bit if a handful, as always, but we’ve been managing- but, that’s beside the point. I called you for something else.”

“What is it?” You tilted your head, playing with the strands of your hoodie as you waited.

“I managed to get my hands on some tickets to see you for the holidays.” He sounded so proud as he said that, and even without seeing it you could imagine his grin. “Sena’s going to be in your area for a modeling job, and Narukami insisted I go with to see you. The trips in about a week- Does that sound okay to you?”

You smiled, eyes sparkling as you nodded fervently despite him not being able to see you. “That’s great, Tsukasa! It’s been forever since I’ve been able to hug you…”

Butterflies started in Tsukasa’s chest as he heard your excitement, but he tried his best to ignore it, and you could hear the faint call from his side of the call urging him to return to practice.

“I’ve got to get back to practice, but I’ll text you after, okay, darling?”

“Of course- tell your unit-mates I said thank you?”

Tsukasa let out a hum of approval. “Right. I’ll see you soon, darling!”

You giggled to yourself as he hung up, smiling and kicking your feet at the prospect of a holiday visit from Tsukasa like some sort of schoolgirl. It wasn’t long until you were up and about, already making preparations for him to be able to stay a few nights with you and scribbling out a shopping list of his favorite sweets, smiling to yourself as you did so.

“This’ll be a good holiday season~”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── End.

[monarch-afterdark]

Titan History: Abaddon

Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.

For today's communication, we turn to the shadows and dive in to take a look at a Titan that may well pose the gravest threat to humanity out of them all, slowly waiting for its time to rise. Arachnophobes be advised, you may want to turn away, for we are diving into the progenitor of spiders, Abaddon.

(Pictured above: Body scans of Abaddon from the ORCA-Sigma, circa. 2024)

Monarch Database File: Abaddon

Monarch Designation: Titanus Abaddon

Height: 323 feet

Weight: Unknown

Nature: Bio-Fossorial

Behavioural Classification: Destroyer

---

An arachnophobe's worst nightmare, the story of Abaddon is remarkably spine-chilling, and may well spell humanity's darkest hour one day. A colossal arachnid, Abaddon is uniquely armed with a set of jaws lined with peg-like teeth and elongated fangs at the front. Its eight legs are adorned with a light coating of fur and spikes, turning them into potentially effective weapons when grappling with other Titans. The strangest and most disturbing part of Abaddon's anatomy is its cephalothorax, which bears a close resemblance to an enlarged human skull.

Fear runs through just about every aspect of this Titan, even the circumstances that led to its discovery are enough to make one shiver. A Monarch archaeological expedition to caverns beneath the Nazca Desert revealed an Incan description warning of Abaddon, and subsequent deep-earth scans uncovered a gargantuan spider den with the skeletal remains of an elephant partially cocooned and displayed as a warning to intruders, as well as a snare for potential prey.

Abaddon's most notable and frightening ability is the hive mind that it appears to share with the Plague Weavers (a closely related superspecies), as well as potentially all known spider species in the world. Through this shared consciousness, Abaddon can command its arachnid army to do its bidding, spying on potential targets or clearing out an area ahead of the Titan's own arrival. Disturbingly, historical evidence suggests that Abaddon uses its minions to reanimate carcasses of other species, including humans, manipulating other species after death to serve its will.

(Pictured above: Abaddon rampaging on the surface, prior to engaging Kong, circa. 2024)

Much of Abaddon's ancient history is unknown and still being uncovered by Monarch teams, though current speculation of Abaddon's relation to other arachnid species and superspecies suggest that the Titan may have planted "sleeper agents" among spider populations, serving as an army hiding in plain sight for when Abaddon calls upon them.

Eventually, Abaddon found its way to Devil's Tower, Wyoming, where Monarch would eventually find the Titan and construct Outpost 77 to observe it. In 2019, Abaddon was among the Titans awakened by Monster Zero, though there is an argument to be made that Abaddon was never truly dormant.

In 2024, following the destruction of Mechagodzilla, Abaddon would emerge in the western United States and take over a city, using its webbing and Plague Weaver army to forge a new territory. When David Martin, a concerned father, travelled into Abaddon's territory in search of his daughter, Abaddon sought to kill the man itself, and made use of its Plague Weavers to do the job as well. Through use of the ORCA-Sigma, a device stolen from Monarch by Alan Jonah's Hyena group (and stolen again by Martin), Kong confronted Abaddon and drove the Titan out of the city.

To this day, Abaddon's current whereabouts are unknown.

---

And that's all she wrote for Abaddon! Speculation from outside sources, such as Bernie Hayes' Titan Truth Podcast, have caused considerable public unrest regarding Abaddon and its capabilities. Unfortunately, this time, we cannot offer any reassurance without understanding for sure how Abaddon operates. In the meantime, perhaps it may be wise to give a second thought to stepping on that spider crawling along your floor...

Until next time,

Monarch: After Dark