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moonbaby26 · 4 years ago

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(gif from Jason Passaro’s youtube edit here)

Title: One Shitty Friday Night (Part 2) *contains some smut*

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Set after the events of Deadpool 2, this is the conclusion from the previous part here. After your semi-disastrous double date night, you, Peter, Kitty, and Colossus head home with Deadpool and Russell in tow to face Logan, Charles, and Erik back at the mansion. You also get some well earned alone time with Peter at last, only to go back to chaos the following morning with Peter confronting Gambit, and Deadpool popping back in.

Warnings: It’s still a bit of Deadpool and all that entails, but only at the beginning and end. *In this part there actually is some Peter x Reader sex.* But you’re welcome to skip over that if uncomfortable with it. I clearly mark in red before and after any smut within the story so readers can choose what to read and still enjoy just the fluff and character interactions before and after if wanted. ❤️

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

The ride home was surprisingly quiet actually. Colossus driving, with Kitty sitting shotgun in the front with him. Russell was in the second row seat behind Kitty, but the seat that normally would have been behind the driver had been taken out specifically with Colossus in mind to let his seat sit further back with his large height.

That just left the third row of three seats. With Peter still not in the best mood, you’d chosen to sit between him and Wade. But they’d mostly just been snacking on the cannolis the whole way home rather than saying or doing much of anything else.

You’d only eaten two in all, hungry but not wanting a stomach ache from the sweetness. You’d felt your own phone buzzing in your pocket most the way home too, but you refused to look at it yet. You could only imagine which friends were trying to call or text you about whatever was being said on TV and the internet now.

Kitty only told you that she’d messaged Xavier to tell him you were all on your way home. But you weren’t sure if she’d warned him about Deadpool and Russell coming with you. Or if she’d kept her phone out at all either afterward, afraid of what the Professor might say in response.

It could have been worse was what you kept thinking. It had been worse actually. Deadpool had once killed an Essex House staff member on live TV, while wearing an X-Men shirt, and with Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead also in camera view. But, given that that trouble had already come from him once, would the Professor be harder on you all this second time around? Would he still think you handled the situation as well as you could have or not?

By the time you felt the familiar turns up the long drive to the mansion, you realized that the period for anxiety was over. Whatever would be would now be.

Colossus had decided to park right in front the main entry doors instead of pulling down into the garage. Mostly just in case Wade’s welcome wasn’t a warm one. He could step right back outside if needed instead of already being in the depths of the compound.

Russell was actually the first one to speak though as you all climbed out the vehicle in front of the well manicured landscaping and dim accent lights.

“Holy shit, he is a rich son of a bitch.” The boy spoke, gaping a little at the sheer size of the mansion and the number of floors still above you.

“The cursing, Russell, please.” Colossus reminded. “There are younger children who live here.”

“Though they should be in bed,” Kitty responded, albeit sounding doubtful herself as she started up the entryway stairs.

They might normally be yes, but probably not if the rumor mill of tonight’s excitement was already burning through the place.

“Well I’ve actually never seen more than three people anytime I’ve been here. So there’s that,” Deadpool quipped.

“Yeah well, we were probably busy.” Peter retorted.

“Oh? Well yeah, maybe you were.” Wade replied, eyeing Peter. “Here’s a thought though, Peters. Maybe next time Ryan Murphy calls, just say N-O. No means no, right?”

“What-” Peter started to ask, but then thought better of it. It really wasn’t worth trying to piece together anything else Deadpool said into something more sensical right now.

As Kitty pushed open the doors and you all strode into the large foyer in front the main staircases, you weren’t sure what would be awaiting you. But the immediate, utterly ecstatic squeal that erupted from Deadpool next had all of you jumping before a gruff voice responded from up on the second floor landing.

“You have to be goddamn shitting me. You actually let that idiot follow you home?” Logan responded, the odd mix of disgust and annoyance so clear on his unshaven face.

“I thought you said no cursing here,” Russell complained.

“Logan is sometimes another matter...” Colossus attempted to answer with some neutrality, even as Deadpool was now bounding up the stairs towards the older man.

“Finally! Finally! I don’t even care if it’s just Tumblr and like two people and their FBI agents will see this! Beggars can’t be choosers! I missed you so much, papa bear!”

You stood there staring in complete disbelief, Deadpool looking as if he was actually going to try and hug the Wolverine.

You were likely all of the same mindset about the only way this could possibly play out, but Colossus was the only one to speak, pleading really. “Please, Logan! No blood on the inside of the house! You know how badly it would stain the floors!”

But Wolverine only growled, claws already aimed as Wade stopped just millimeters short, the metal tips now grazing the mercenary’s throat. “You heard him, Wade. Don’t give me a reason and you won’t be having to regrow limbs tonight.” Logan replied.

“You salty old bastard. We haven’t even seen each other in ages, you won’t return my calls, and this is the welcome I get?” Deadpool pouted.

“You’re bad luck walking, Wade. These kids don’t need you hanging around here for long.”

“Oh, and you’re such a tasteful role model. Grandpappy Wolverine teaching a class on cigar chain smoking, and stabbing your problems away this semester?”

“The fuck are you on about? How many people have you killed this month alone, Wade?”

“Twenty four and a half, thank you. And ask me how many of those never killed or raped someone themselves. How many the police never would have touched. What do you think I’ll say there?”

“Reason it all you want, bub. You’re just a wack job vigilante.”

“This could go on all night.” Kitty sighed. “Logan! Where is everyone else? We brought Russell with us, we need to take him to the Professor.”

Wolverine only softened slightly at Kitty’s voice, answering her. “Charles put in a curfew tonight, all students back to their rooms. Wade’s not allowed past the entrance, but the Professor is waiting for you in his study.”

“Discrimination.” Wade huffed, yet then posed in a mock seductive look. “But if you wanted me alone tough guy, all you’d have to do is ask.”

“Please do not make a mess, Logan. We will be back to collect him as soon as we can.” Colossus said with some concern, you all just starting towards the hallway that lead to Xavier’s office.

“No promises.” Logan called back before continuing, louder then so you could hear him even as you walked away. “And hey, Peter-”

“Yeah?” He answered back from your side, glancing over his shoulder at Logan.

“Your dad’s here, kid.”

Peter paused in his tracks, staring for a moment. You could see the emotions process through him before he took a deep breath. There was nothing more that any of you could do though. He just lifted a hand up in a wave of acknowledgement, finally starting to walk again. “Thanks for the warning,”

Even in all that had happened through the years though, going to see Xavier like this still brought back an odd sense of childhood. And that little feeling of dread to be honest. Not because you really thought he would be angry, but because you worried that you may have disappointed him. Which would have always been the worse of the two options in your own mind.

Colossus was the one to slide the ornate pocket doors open, you all trailing in behind him as you entered the study.

It was warm inside, the fireplace crackling and dancing. That fire was the only light besides a couple small table lamps and a TV now on mute, but still running the late night news.

You were but weren’t surprised to see Erik sitting there as well, a short glass of what looked like scotch in one hand. There was a chessboard as well, positioned between himself and Charles on a little table, the pieces clearly still in play.

As the TV flickered again though, you glanced back to it reflexively. You saw an exterior shot of the restaurant you’d been at only a short time earlier, now with police tape all around. It cut to a video of Colossus walking up to police cars with Giovanni in hand, but then just as quickly the flashing red and blue lights changed to the white flashes of cameras and yourself and Peter talking before the sudden kiss. You only looked to the floor in renewed embarrassment then, choosing not to read the ticker captions currently scrolling beneath the now looping video.

“Hey, Dad...” Peter said somewhat unsure, but still the first to speak. He’d shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket now, as he often did when nervous. “Didn’t know you were in town.”

“Peter.” Erik answered plainly though, taking a sip of his drink before setting it back down. “I only arrived this afternoon. I had been hoping for a quiet evening.” He looked briefly towards the television, but then coolly back to Peter. “But here we are aren’t we?”

“Erik,” Xavier warned lightly though, no doubt sensing Peter tense further at the tone.

“They aren’t children anymore, Charles.” Erik responded sharply. “And it never should have been allowed to get to this point. I told you from the beginning that they should have worn masks, they should have been discreet. Trying to craft this foolhardy public image of the new X-Men as some celebrity clean up crew for humans’ mistakes, it’s making a mockery of us all.”

The exasperated breath that came out of the Professor next told you that this was far from the first time that this subject had come up as a point of contention between the two. But the rest of you were quite helpless whenever Erik and Charles would start to argue in front of you.

Xavier countered, “As I have also said before, Erik, we all knew there would be some negatives from moving more into the public eye with our team. But how can mutant kind ever be accepted for who we really are if we only kept slinking in the shadows for the rest of our lives? It’s no different than Raven showing herself on camera all those years ago. You know what an impact that made on the youth in our community then.”

“But the humans are fickle. The magazines and the talk shows only jest at you now. What happens when they turn on you? When my son’s face is only on a wanted list in a database, Charles? What then?”

The anger and protectiveness flaring up in Erik’s tone only made the room even more uncomfortable, yet you didn’t find yourself surprised. Peter’s relationship with his father would never be an easy one, but you knew in the end that Erik did feel a sense of responsibility towards his progeny. And hell have mercy on anyone who did ever truly harm Wanda, Peter, or Lorna and word of it get back to their father.

Charles remained patient though, likely understanding those paternal emotions all too well himself. The Professor treated you all as well as his own after all. “The ones that wish to harm us already knew who we were, Erik. They don’t need to pick up that gossip drivel to find us. We protect ourselves by staying together, as we always have. They want us, then they’ll have to face us all. And Lord knows even gods have tried.”

Erik frowned, and for a moment you wondered if Xavier was saying something more to him telepathically. Something to make him finally quiet or at least agree to postpone the argument’s continuation for later in private.

Regardless of whether your instincts were correct or not on that, their conversation did end abruptly then. Charles switched to a warmer, but still slightly tired tone as he looked back to the rest of you. “Well, I know you’re all ready for tonight to be over. I won’t keep you much longer. Kitty, if you could make sure that weapon you confiscated ends up locked in Hank’s lab tonight, we’ll see about it later. Given that those men would not need something so extravagant just to dispose of other humans, I’m certain it was developed or at least purchased with our kind in mind. We will learn what we can.”

She nodded in agreement before he then turned his attention to the, to this point, uncharacteristically silent Russell with a kind look. “And Russell, I appreciate you deciding to give us a second chance. You’re welcome to stay of course. Did you still wish to speak to me? I know it’s late. Don’t feel obligated to stay and talk if this is all a bit much right now. We can always go over more about the school in the morning.”

“Um...” The boy blinked, not quite ready it seemed for any of the focus to be back on him so soon. And it was only then that you realized it was Erik that Russell kept staring at as he tried to formulate a real response. Actually Erik and briefly back to Peter, that tell tale look on the boy’s face that you’d seen so many times before when people realized who Peter really was, who his father was. Russell was maybe even regretting picking on Peter earlier now.

Charles certainly hadn’t missed that though. Surely sensing all the boy’s thoughts and feelings now as he continued. “It’s alright, Russell. Yes, Magneto does stop in here from time to time. We’re old friends. Yet I hardly think you should be so concerned with him when you’ve already gotten on quite well with my stepbrother haven’t you?” Xavier was actually smiling then. “To get on the Juggernaut’s good side, if even briefly, is quite impressive I must say.”

That did seem to finally break the ice a little then as Russell looked back to Charles. “Yeah, I... I needed a prison friend. A big one.”

“He is that, certainly,” The Professor responded. “Yet to answer the other questions still running through your mind -and forgive me to read you- but of course you can absolutely train with us to better learn to control your fire powers if you’d like. And yes, you may also have a television in your room. I think that’s a reasonable request after living in less than desirable conditions with Wade for this long.”

“Yeah, there were rats and the old blind lady sells cocaine.” Russell answered so matter of factly that the rest of you, minus Charles who was evidently now fully aware of Russell’s recent memories, all just stared.

“Despite his, ah, unique flaws, I can say that Wade would never willingly let anything happen to you.” Xavier just continued. “But yes, it would likely be best to give you a bit more sanitary and less illegal living conditions. And of course this would all be voluntary, if you find you don’t like it here after all, you’re always free to go as well.”

“Cool. Yeah.” Russell agreed. Though not really sure what else to say.

“Wonderful,” Charles just looked back to Colossus and Kitty then. “Can you two please see Russell to one of the empty rooms so he may pick one out to sleep tonight? And please let Wade know of his decision to stay for now.”

Colossus spoke up though before they all walked out together, “And am I sending Wade home as well? I do not think he and Logan can be peaceable for a whole night in the same building.”

“Agreed. Like oil and water there. I would prefer not to have to repair cerebro again either, as we’d had to from his last stay with us.” Xavier looked apologetic though to Colossus. “Is it too much to ask that you offer him a ride back home tonight?”

But Russell just cut in before Colossus could respond. “Nah, Wade already called a cab to meet him back here before we left town. You can just dump him outside now. Let him be their problem.” But even Russell knew to elaborate a little. “And it’s not some random person he might scare off. It’s his friend Dopinder. But you might want to give him some money first. He never pays the guy. Wade doesn’t carry a wallet. Tightwad.”

Kitty sighed. “I’ll cover it. I have cash. Never got to eat or pay for our dinner after all.” She glanced to you and Peter briefly. “Maybe next weekend?”

“We can try,” You offered quietly.

She smiled, understanding that sentiment that you all might want to lay low for awhile after this fiasco of an evening. “I guess we’ll see how we feel. Night, guys.”

“Night.” You and Peter responded to her in unison.

When Kitty, Colossus, and Russell had left the room, you happened to glance back at the TV, though you were at least a little relieved to see the news had finally gone off and by the captions it was just some talk show host joking about whatever a bigger idiot politician had done now.

But Peter’s voice brought your attention back to him.

“Are we free to go too?” He asked cautiously, maybe even more uneasy now that it was just the four of you as he looked to his father and Charles.

The two older men exchanged a glance of their own as silence hung for a moment.

Erik sighed eventually though to break it. His voice serious, but lacking it’s usual coldness. “You can’t keep diving into everything headfirst, Peter. You’re going to get yourself killed.” He seemed to be studying his son’s face a moment. “And what are those bruises even from?”

“I, uh...fell down a flight of stairs.” Peter answered, taking a breath as if to steel himself for further scolding, obviously that admission only adding to his father’s point.

Yet you interjected before Erik could respond. Before you could help yourself, as it wasn’t fair for Peter to be singled out here. “I’m the one that told him to go to the basement.” Normally Scott was mission leader, or maybe Ororo. This wasn’t a role you were used to, but you’d take responsibility where it was due tonight. “I thought it would be safest for him to go first, to disarm them all, but-”

“But you sent him straight into an ambush.” Erik countered. And when his gaze shifted to you with those words, it was clear that even after this long, it still had an effect. An intimidation factor that you could only hope didn’t show through in your expression.

But it was Charles that came to your defense. “That’s a gross over simplification, Erik. Peter had already examined the area on his own accord moments before to no harm. There would have been no reason for them to think he couldn’t return to it.”

For Xavier to already know that level of detail, meant he’d already searched you and Peter’s minds tonight as well, just as he had Kitty about the gun. Which honestly was okay with you as it meant you wouldn’t have to really explain everything that had happened and risk making things sound even worse.

But Erik was still staring at you both, looking displeased.

Peter shifted, uncomfortable with the quiet. “Look, if you’re going to yell at me for what I did on TV, then just get it over with. It wasn’t (Y/N)’s fault. I was the one that made us stay as long as we did, and I was the one that got pissed off at what those guys were saying. It’s always like no one can believe we’re still together. Like I have to keep proving it.”

That admission actually did catch you off guard. Especially to be said here in front his father, and well in all honesty sort of stepfather that Charles was for all intents and purposes. You immediately felt you should say something, but were even further stunned when Erik beat you to it.

“Peter, for God’s sake. You may have problems, but I assure you that (Y/N) is not one of them. Quit being so dense, boy.”

You blinked, unsure if you’d actually just received a rare semi-compliment from Erik.

But Peter just rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk, Dad. Yes, I know that. I’m saying how do I make everyone else know that? Some fatherly wisdom would be great right now.”

Erik frowned, looking annoyed at Peter’s reaction. “I’ve told you before, I can’t teach you self-confidence, no one can. Though I’ve always been willing to fight for what I wanted. That’s a start.”

“Erik, no.” Charles interrupted. “Peter, we all question ourselves from time to time. But when it comes to relationships, nothing going on on the outside will matter as long as you focus on keeping things strong between the two of you. Weakness there is the only way those outside troubles can get in to break things down.”

“Oh typical, Charles. So it’s still turn the other cheek to everything else then? Pacifism is not how love is won.” Erik replied, now staring back at Xavier.

“Love is not a thing to be fought over, Erik, and neither is (Y/N). People are not trophies to be claimed.” The Professor responded, meeting Erik’s gaze easily.

“Okayyyy,” Peter said, glancing to you and the no doubt really uncomfortable expression on your face now. “I think we’re just going to go to bed now.” His voice was getting a little quicker as he touched your arm as if to usher you out with him. “We’ll be more careful next time, we learned our lesson, so sincerely sorry and humbled, good nigh-”

“Peter.” Erik called back though before you could both reach the doorway.

Peter looked back reluctantly, only to see Erik now holding up a phone.

“Do at least message your sisters tonight to tell them you’re alright. As refreshing as it is to be receiving so many calls from them this evening, it’s only you they wish to speak to.”

“Uh, sure,” Peter offered, a little surprised. “I haven’t even looked at my phone. I will. Night!”

“Good night.” You also managed, speaking back at least politely to the two men just before Peter hurried you out into the hallway.

——————————

You’d both chosen to take one of the other halls afterward, as to avoid the front foyer and any drama that may still be occurring there if Wade and Logan were still facing off. There was another set of stairs at the back of the house, and it’d been a real relief not to run into anyone else on the way as you took them up to your floor.

By the time you finally got to your bedroom, you didn’t bother to turn on the ceiling light, just switching on the lamp at your bedside end table as you sat down on the bed. You pulled off your shoes, and heard Peter’s jacket already hitting the floor before his own weight hit the bed, making you bounce slightly.

“Ugh,” He said, already barefoot and stretched out behind you laying on his back. “That was awkward right?”

“What part of the night specifically?” You questioned, throwing off your own coat into a then indiscernible pile in the darkness outside of the lamp light. Normally you were the one picking up after Peter, but you weren’t in the mood to hang up or fold anything tonight.

“Good point,” He conceded. “But I was mainly thinking of Dad and Charles. Sorry to drag you into that.”

Yeah, that had been pretty weird. “Well, Xavier was just trying to help. And I think your Dad was too...in his own way. I guess.” There wasn’t a whole lot you could add to that. Peter’s insecurities could flare up from time to time still, but he’d actually gotten a little better over the years. At some point he had finally realized you really were going to stick around. It wasn’t just pretty words and passing teenage hormones.

After you’d actually started rooming together officially, you knew there had even been some joking from your friends about Magneto one day becoming your father-in-law. But you tried not to humor any of that. You were in no hurry, and felt further commitment to that level would have to be Peter’s decision. It wouldn’t be fair to put him under that kind of pressure.

You knew he had reservations on the subject when none of his father’s marriages had ever worked out. He wouldn’t say it outright, but you were sure Peter felt there was still some sort of family curse there that he didn’t want to tempt fate with. As if making you his spouse would be the final straw and something would come to take all his happiness away.

You felt him moving a little then as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright, before I forget, group message to Wanda and Lorna...” But he paused, looking up at you with just a blank white screen on the phone. “What do you think I should tell them?”

“Peter, they’re your sisters.” You smiled, not sure why this would be a question to you. “Just say you’re fine, you’re back at the mansion, and you’re going to bed. You can always call them tomorrow.”

He made a face at that though, “What if I don’t want to call them tomorrow? They’re just going to lecture me. Oh, I know!” He smirked as if he’d thought of something clever, adding to whatever he was already typing. “Dad already fussed at me. So don’t worry about it. Wanda, tell mom the same thing. ❤️👍”

He turned the screen to show you. “Think that will work?”

“Genius.” You replied.

“Smart ass.” He grinned, but sent the message before quickly turning his phone back on silent and setting it on the other end table.

You took your own phone out your pocket, intentionally not reading the number of notifications left on the home screen as you also set it to the side before standing up to take your pants off.

You’d just slid them down, trying to step out of them when a sudden pinch to your backside almost had you stumble forward, one foot still stuck in a pants leg.

“Speaking of ass...” Peter teased, pulling his hand back before you could smack it.

“So the cannolis gave you a second wind, huh?” You turned, not surprised to see that devilish grin starting as he now looked you over while you next removed your shirt. You’d think he’d be used to this view by now.

“I was feeling hopeful, yeah,” he replied, though remaining where he was in the bed as your shirt joined your pants on the floor. “Of course I am still pretty tired,” He added, “Maybe you could help me out here?”

You raised one eyebrow as he motioned to the zipper of his jeans. Oh, so this was how it was going to be? He seemed so pleased with his idea though, you couldn’t help but be amused.

***smut starts here, scroll on to skip*** “So pitiful, my poor speedster.” You said, albeit smiling as you climbed into the bed. You straddled him gently, seeing that needful look already beginning to cloud his eyes as he still laid on his back beneath you.

You were tired yourself, and hungry still, but you’d survive until morning. This effort for some physical intimacy seemed worth it to at least end this bizarre night on a good note for the both of you.

And you knew you both wanted it. He might be making a play that he was going to make you do all the work right now, but you highly doubted he’d have the self control to not jump in once things actually got going.

You pushed his shirt up, running both your hands up the sides of his torso. Like anyone would expect for someone as fast as him, he was built lean, though there was sinew there. Just that bit of muscle, storing all that energy, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

The room was cool. It was still winter and the high ceilings didn’t do much to keep heat near the floor. You knew your hands would be a little cold as well. So you willed just the slightest bit of your energy field from your palms, warming them as you stroked his chest. You could see the bit of bruising here and there from his earlier fall, but luckily nothing extreme.

He relaxed his head into the pillows behind him, clearly enjoying the feel even as you heard his breathing increase slightly. He liked to be petted, but you knew it would be too much of a tease for him if you focused above his waist for too much longer.

You left his shirt pushed up to bare his abdomen to you, even as your hands ran carefully back down, stopping at his belt. Never quite the typical guy when it came to fashion, it wasn’t a normal peg and hole type, but actually an old seatbelt buckle. You undid it with a click, pulling it out through the belt loops of his pants as he arched a little to take his weight off the back and fully free it.

Once that was out of the way, you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with little fanfare. His normally loose boxers were already a little tighter though you noticed.

He made a noise, shifting into the touch as you cupped him with your hand. You massaged the area through the fabric, feeling him gradually stiffen as you got a little more forceful.

By the time he was fully erect, it was all too simple to slip him through the now stretched open flap in the boxers.

You had been intending to stroke him now, but on a whim you decided to go another route. Something a little less predictable you hoped, but what you knew he would still like. You doubted you were all that good at it really, but he’d never complained before.

And you could tell he was surprised, you heard him take in a quick breath as you lowered your mouth down on him, sucking him as he spread open his legs for you. You couldn’t take him in too deep without gagging yourself, but you tried to make up for it by moving up and down gingerly as you used your tongue as well.

It must have been stimulating enough for him though as you felt his hand on the back of your head shortly after, and felt his hips starting to rock rhythmically against your mouth.

He gave a quiet moan, he was so very hard now, but you didn’t let up. You knew sometimes, especially if it’d been a while since you’d last had a chance to be intimate together, he may actually cum fairly quickly. But if he did, then he did. You weren’t worried about whether you got anything in return tonight. Truthfully, your heart was already pounding, the heat in you building, just because you knew he was so aroused.

It was always give and take, and there was no rule of whose turn it was at any given time.

His whole body stiffened a little and for a moment you thought that would be it. But his hand moved to your shoulder suddenly instead, pushing you back as you released him in response.

You pursed your lips as you looked back up at him, that little bit of irritation still felt on them of where they’d dragged against him.

He was already sitting up though, pulling his shirt off completely before he tossed it off the bed. “Come on, babe, clothes off please.” He breathed, his silver hair falling into his dark eyes as you moved off of him and he laid back again just long enough that he could pull off his jeans and work his erection free from his boxers before they ended up cast out into the darkness as well.

While you’d been watching him, you’d also been unhooking your bra as requested, tossing that away. Which left only your underwear before you’d slid it down your legs, flicking it off too once it’d only been left swinging from one foot. He closed the small distance between you so fast then, you were sure he’d actually just used his powers before you felt his lips against yours. Desperate almost, as his tongue pressed through immediately afterward.

You shivered, not expecting the feel of his fingers against your entrance almost simultaneously. Just two of them, moving methodically against you. The room felt far from cold now. But you were just kissing him equally as hard now as he started to push his fingers in further, testing your readiness.

By the time you trembled again from his probing, you knew you were fully wet enough. It was a mutual realization evidently as he broke the kiss, urging you to turn so your back was facing him as he moved behind you on the bed.

You understood what he wanted as he kneeled behind you. You let yourself lean down onto your elbows in the pillows, but also on your knees in the back as you felt him grab your hips from behind. You arched your back, curving your back downward to help angle yourself into him as you felt his tip pressing into you.

As wet as you were now, he only had to try a couple times before he was able to slide fully in. To the hilt so to speak as you felt his torso now pressed flush against you. Already that slight sheen of sweat was starting where your skin touched together as he began to thrust.

The bed was creaking, and you bit back a moan of your own, never quite sure how thick the walls really were in this house. It was kind of an unspoken thing that as long as precautions were taken, and the others in the house didn’t have to hear or see anything you did in the privacy of your own room, then no one would care if people coupled up. For the two of you, precautions only meant a birth control pill, not worrying about condoms any longer after several years of monogamy.

His thrusts were getting even more uneven though, which told you he was close to orgasm. But you couldn’t help but push back against him yourself, panting a little as you felt him grab and squeeze one of your breasts. He was supporting himself with his other arm as he leaned forward suddenly, still inside you as he nipped you lightly on one shoulder, then kissing the same spot before he breathed in your ear.

“How do you always feel so good?” He murmured.

As he let go of your breast, you felt his hand go back between your legs. Even though he was still buried fully in you, his fingers went back to teasing the outside. The over stimulation left you shuddering, and you knew he was trying to get you to orgasm first.

His fingers just kept moving as he started to thrust again. You loved that feeling of fullness, when he was all the way inside, but it was the added teasing of his fingers where you were most sensitive that finally sent you over the edge. Your muscles inside spasming around him then as that unmistakable burst of euphoria went through you, leaving every piece of you trembling.

He clearly felt your orgasm, only moving both hands back to your hips then. Pulling you back against him as he thrust roughly several more times, enough to get his own release as you felt his erection pulse in its own right, knowing he had then let go inside you as you felt that warmth already dribbling back out onto the bedsheets.

Even though you’d started the foreplay, he’d done most the work for the finish. Yet you still felt spent now, only rolling onto your back after he pulled out, trying not to let too much of his seed run back out of you and onto the bed.

He was still breathing a little unevenly as he left the bed only long enough to go grab a clean hand towel from the bathroom. One of those pluses of having had the mansion rebuilt back then was that so many more of the rooms now had their own bathrooms. And after he’d wiped the residue off of himself, he handed you the towel. You dabbed up the small spot on the bed, before wiping off the remainder from your skin as well, then tossing the towel unceremoniously onto the floor with everything else.

Peter turned off the end table lamp before climbing back into the bed beside you in the darkness. The only light then coming from the moon and starlight through the thin curtains at the windows.

You were both still naked, and a little bit hot as you only pulled the covers as high as your waists, knowing the room’s cool air would chill you quickly enough now that no more physical exertion was taking place.

Hot or not though, his arms went around you as he then pulled you into a spooning position in the darkness. You actually felt that he was still about half hard too as it touched against your backside again, you now both laying on your sides with your back to his chest.

***sex over, you’re safe to start reading again*** “That almost made up for this entire night,” He joked quietly, kissing the back of your neck a couple times before you felt him smile against your skin. He moved one of his hands to trail it lightly over your hip, the sensation tickling you slightly as he spoke again. His voice was soft, a true contentment in his tone. “Love you.”

That wasn’t a phrase he said often. But the both of you seemed to save the word as to never water it down. When it was said, it made it really mean something more.

You reached down for his hand that’d been playing with your hip, grasping it warmly and weaving your fingers between his. “I love you.” You said simply, no need to elaborate on what was just a fact.

He squeezed your hand a little harder, but said nothing more, you both just enjoying the touch and comfort of each other’s presence.

You moved your head a little more into the pillows, getting just right as you closed your eyes.

——————————

Your dreams faded in and out, nothing you could remember in detail though as the sunlight on your face now had you squinting. You thought of just pulling the blanket back over your head, but your brain started to register the smell of food as well. Bacon specifically as you lifted your head a little, trying to focus.

“It lives!” Peter joked from beside you, sitting cross legged on top the blankets and just in his boxers again. Two plates of food sat in front of him, the source of the smell you realized as you sat up a little, pulling the sheet up enough to cover your bare chest in the cool room.

Very rarely did he ever wake before you, and your still half asleep stare of confusion only made him smirk a little.

“I had to pee.” He said through a mouthful of food, a sausage biscuit with a large bite already taken out of it in one hand, and a video game controller pressed down into the bed with the other. His hand with the controller was blurring slightly as he moved it just fast enough to work the joy stick and buttons simultaneously. “Then I remembered they released that new DLC last night. Had to try it out. I turned the volume down though. Considerate right?”

And it was indeed silent, not the usual grunts and blasts and screams from that gory fighting game he loved so much. His character was currently comboing another into oblivion on the small TV across from the end of your bed.

Your lack of any real dinner the night before had you focusing back to the food in front of you though.

“Go on,” Peter encouraged. “I knew you’d be hungry. It’s not all for me.”

Normally you were against eating in bed, just from the crumbs and general mess it could make. You’d had the misfortune to find the sticky remnants of Twinkies and the like from Peter’s late and early snacking many times.

Yet even as you picked up one of the amazing looking sausage and egg biscuits for yourself, you wondered if anyone else was now going without. Was it stolen goods? “Where...did this come from?” You asked, voice still a little hoarse from just waking, even as you bit down hungrily.

But the implication of your question didn’t even faze him. “Oh there was plenty. Raven told Hank he didn’t know how to cook, so guess who wins? Us when he made three damn trays of these things.”

“Sounds like she had a plan.” You responded, also grabbing a couple pieces of bacon now.

“Totally.” He agreed. “And orange juice is on the end table, babe.”

You glanced to your side, indeed just noticing the glass beside you then. “Well, you’ve been busy.” But your attention eventually drifted back to him only sitting there in his boxers after you’d taken a few sips of juice. “Did anyone even see you?”

“Nah. Maybe they felt an errant breeze or two.” But he was grinning in a way that still gave you pause.

You watched him a little while longer, only feeling more and more sure before you finally offered out the accusation. “No. You did something. Something else...”

He’d already emptied his plate now, both hands on the video game controller then as he seemed to put his focus solely back to the TV screen. Intentionally of course before he grabbed the nearby remote to start turning the volume back up.

“Peter.” You spoke anyway, knowing full well he could still hear you. “Did we not just scrape by last night without any big consequences? You’re going to put that goodwill to the test already this morning?”

“It’ll be fine.” He answered. “It’s nothing.”

Your eyebrows raised a little. His ‘fine’ and yours could sometimes be completely different things. You sighed, going back to eating the food in front of you as Peter’s character liberated the head off another in a ridiculous fountain of CGI blood.

If you could just finish your breakfast before the next possible calamity-

The bedroom door absolutely rattled in its frame with the pounding on it that almost had you spilling the juice in the bed. By the time your annoyed look moved to the spot Peter had just been, the video game was already paused. Only yourself now alone with whoever was on the other side of that door.

“Just say I’m not here!”

You couldn’t even tell where the whisper came from. Peter either hiding in the closet or maybe the bathroom, they were too near each other to tell.

“I’m not even dressed!” You retorted just to him, quite literally naked as you tried to disentangle yourself from the blankets without dumping your food plate, while simultaneously setting the glass of juice back onto the end table.

Peter said nothing more, so you could only call out that you were coming as you anxiously tried to find some of your clothes from the night before. You were able to find your underwear, and the um, incriminating towel, but that was about it. Sure it’d been dark, but how on Earth anything else could have gotten much farther or under something so quickly was beyond you. You kicked the towel under the bed, and you just had to settle for Peter’s t-shirt crumpled in your path as you grabbed it up and yanked it over your head, hurrying for the door.

You still tried to tug the shirt down as far as you could though, at least covering your panties and butt you hoped before you finally pulled the door open. Pantsless, barefoot, and probably with bedhair as you stared up into the glowing red eyes of a very irritated looking, and entirely shirtless Remy LeBeau.

His expression softened just slightly at the sight of you, his lips curling into a handsome smile. But one that didn’t quite reach those crimson eyes. “Mornin’, cher...so sorry to intrude, but I need to have a few words with that boy toy of yours.”

Yet you were staring still, taking time to process the sight before you. There was black...large black streaks all across his face. It circled his eyes in a cartoon like representation of glasses. Though he already had some stubble on his face, the streaks condensed around his mouth as well, like the upturned mustache and goatee of an old timey villain. As if he should be going to tie up some poor girl to train tracks somewhere.

“Oh my God,” you breathed. Permanent marker, seriously? How old were all of you again? “Remy, I’m sorry.” You thought about saying something about how Peter had let those paparazzi get under his skin last night. But it wouldn’t matter. Not if none of these boys were in the mood to be reasonable right now.

“You know you’re not going to catch him.” Is what you finally said. “Please don’t blow up my bedroom trying.”

“And he ain’t worth my chasin’, petite. I just want to talk,” Remy insisted though, voice as smooth as you’d ever heard it as he leaned against your doorframe in only a pair of pajama pants.

But the few playing cards now flitting between his fingers told you otherwise on his supposed peaceful intentions. Yet when he saw you look down at them, another one appeared seemingly from nowhere in his other hand.

He offered it to you, “But if he isn’t man enough to show himself, at least I get the pleasure of your company, non?”

The card was the king of hearts of course as he palmed it into your hand before you could think to stop him. But you knew it wouldn’t be charged if he was handing it to you like that. You trusted him at least that much.

Yet you were quite sure he was still only trying to lure Peter out by audibly flirting with you now. And sadly, it would probably work. “Remy, can you two just save it for the danger room?” You tried again. “It’s too early, really. I was just trying to eat breakfast.”

“Well, seeing as how you’ve been ditched, I don’t see why someone like you should have to eat all alone.” He answered effortlessly, just strolling past you further into the bedroom as if there was no awkwardness in this at all.

In a moment of panic you wondered if it’d be best to just call for backup. Your cell phone wasn’t very far. Was everyone awake already? What if you just called Rogue? That’d be the most straight forward right? Oh, but you could imagine that conversation. Hey girl, come get your man out of my bedroom please? Yet she totally would. He’d be as helpless as a toddler if she decided she was dragging him out.

“You know,” Remy said, considering a little as he palmed one of the uneaten biscuits right off the tray like it was a bauble to steal. “I did think we looked good together in those pictures they printed from the beach. It’s only natural you know. When two people have chemistry, everybody can see it.”

And that was it, the final straw. You didn’t even know why you still jumped when the bathroom door flung all the way open. The window opened too, a couple cards Remy had already thrown then exploding out there harmlessly like little fireworks as Peter had redirected them outside.

Your bedsheet seemed to have a mind of its own as it ripped off the bed and tied around Gambit as well, pinning his arms to his sides as he was forced to then kneel in front of you.

Peter reappeared at your side, looking down at his handiwork as he scowled at the other man. It was a rare expression on Peter’s face, but a little more jarring for that reason.

“Apologize to (Y/N).” Peter demanded. “Or you’re going out the window next.”

But you knew Remy’s wounded pride meant there would be no such possibility of deescalation now. They were going to have to be physically separated and given a cool off period no matter what. As you considered whether to actually put a shield around one or both of them to essentially begin preparations for mutant time out, Remy was already countering back at Peter, a mocking tone rolling off his tongue.

“Alright. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m sorry that you got saddled with a jealous little boy who goes after rivals in their sleep rather than face them like a man. And then just hides behind that same woman he thinks they’re going to take from him, yeah?”

Oh for God’s sake! You dropped the card Remy had given you, that you’d for some reason still been holding. You powered up, trying to catch both of the guys in two of your force fields, Peter had already been in movement though. In actuality you’d only ended up shielding Remy just before Peter had kicked the field, looking as if the hit had been intended for the Cajun’s chest.

“Don’t protect him!” Peter looked to you in surprise.

“I’m protecting both of you!” You responded, then glowing white and hovering now several feet off the floor in your annoyance.

“Kinky.” A new voice spoke, followed by a sing song voice that unfortunately you did now recognize as Deadpool continued. “I see London, I see France, I see (Y/N)’s underpants!”

With your energy humming around you, Peter’s shirt you were wearing was now billowing up a little you realized. Indeed giving a full view to all those below you. You dropped back to the floor immediately, but didn’t power down, keeping the field around Remy as you turned to look at the several people now standing in your doorway.

“You know, this is exactly how those rumors start,” Ellie said in her usual dry tone, taking in the truly bizarre scene of the three of you. “Putting on some clothes might be a good first step. Or you know, at least closing the door.”

The girl otherwise known as Negasonic Teenage Warhead was never one to mince words, even to you all, her sort of superiors. Her girlfriend Yukio only stood beside her, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“Yeah, don’t mind us you little OT3, I just came back to bring Russel his stuff.” He motioned to the boy, who was now also staring at you all. “And your boss Charlie X said I had to have an escort, so I got my old buddies here Nega-angst and Yukio-chan. Oh and-”

Deadpool suddenly grabbed another man who had been standing behind them, bringing him to the front. “This is my all time best buddy Dopinder, he wanted a tour of mutant Hogwarts as well.”

“Hello.” The young man waved a bit shyly. “It is an honor to meet more of DP’s superhero allies.”

“Hey.” Peter said oddly to them after a moment, then looking back to you again. The randomness seemed to have snapped him out of his fixation on getting even with Remy at least for the moment. It now looked like he was waiting for guidance from you on what to do next.

You heard an audible sigh from Remy then as he spoke up. “I rather not destroy your sheets, cher. Truce for today?”

You glanced back to Peter first though before letting down the shield. Making sure he’d agree to untie him. Peter looked reluctant still, but eventually nodded.

And with that you powered down, your field around Remy disappearing as all the energy faded back inside you. In another instant he was completely untied, the sheet semi neatly back on your bed then. You knew some of the food had to have gone flying wherever when Peter had ripped off the bedsheet earlier in their scuffle. But you didn’t really care right now.

“Woah, woah. Is that the new MK game?” Wade just questioned suddenly, then seemingly oblivious to all else as he strode into your room as well.

Why no one had any boundaries today, you had no idea.

“Wait, we get video games too?” Russell also sounded impressed, just following.

“Some of us,” Ellie replied though, giving Peter a skeptical look. “That one might have had a five finger discount.”

Peter huffed at her, non committal on the truth of that statement though, “It’s the new one, yeah. The new DLC just added more characters too.”

You didn’t even care anymore honestly as Wade pulled off his mask and hopped immediately onto your and Peter’s bed, grabbing a controller. “Dibs on Johnny Cage, mother fuckers. Let daddy show you how it’s done.”

“Hey, I want to be Scorpion!” Russell replied, actually sounding like the fourteen year old he really was for once.

And you saw Peter was already digging out another controller from his gaming pile as he scoffed at them both. “Man, you can try. I’ll wipe the floor with you and buzzcut you down to bloody stumps with Kung Lao.”

“Dopinder, google Johnny Cage combos, stat!” Deadpool requested as his friend hurried in, dutifully sitting on the floor and pulling out a cell phone to do just that.

Remy was actually the only male in the room to not be sucked in as he gave you a little look while walking back out. “Later, petite. Sorry for real about the fuss. You know he just irks me.” He leaned in a little closer just to you though. “And I know you’re faithful. He just needs to leave me out of it. Quit readin’ dem damn gossip magazines, yeah?”

“Yes.” You agreed with a smile. A little optimism returning that maybe the two of them could be reasoned with after all. “See ya, Remy.”

He nodded, winking at both Ellie and Yukio as well before he slipped past them and out down the hall. Yukio giggled, but Ellie only rolled her eyes.

“Well, if you put some pants on, maybe there’s still some breakfast left down there. Want to go?” Ellie asked you, crossing her arms. She smirked then though, the guys now commentating and mocking one another like there was some big sporting match going on just a few feet from you. “Let Wade be Peter’s problem for a while, I think you’ve earned it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed without much hesitation. If Peter needed you, it’s not like it’d even take him two seconds to find you, even with the size of this house.

You did see him glance back ever so briefly as you dug some sweatpants out your dresser drawer and pulled them on though. You made an eating gesture and he nodded, understanding where you were going.

He also made a motion like drinking and you knew that meant he wanted you to bring him back some soda. The more sugar the better for him.

As you walked back downstairs with Ellie and Yukio, Ellie chuckled to herself a little. “You know Wade’s going to think Peter is his bff now. Better buckle up for that ride. Colossus can probably give you some pointers.”

You sighed, looking at the younger two girls. “We’ve survived everything that’s been thrown at us to this point. Could always be worse.”

“Oh yeah, it’ll get worse.” Ellie answered.

Yukio nodded, yet still smiling. “Wade is very special. And deadly.”

“Like a contagion,” Ellie added.

It still didn’t matter though. New, strange friends, or old sometimes combative friends. Gossip and rumors, or anything else. In the end you had to agree with Xavier as you so often usually did. As long as you and Peter kept strong together, none of that outside noise could ever tear you down. You had each other and that was all you needed.

————————

End. Thanks for reading! Art by NACCHAN96.

#quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x oc #quicksilver #quicksilver xmen #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff x oc #x men #xmen #x men fanfiction #xmen fanfiction #xmen fic #deadpool #wade wilson #dadneto #remy lebeau

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uncomfortable-writers · 6 years ago

Text

Trepidatious (Bucky x Reader)

(Gif credit to owner)

Fandom: Marvel

Character: Bucky Barnes

Persona: Female

Word Count: 1,817

Warning: Mentions of extreme anxiety

Request: Can I request a Bucky imagine where reader has anxiety, she's nervous about everything, and it's easy to make her cry. Maybe a scenario when some of her co-workers pranked her and she got really scared and started crying (you can add a panic attack) and Bucky hears her sobs when he comes to pick her up and calms her down? Thank you dear ❤

A/N - I based this off of how my own anxiety feels so if it doesn’t feel right/accurate I’m sorry :( Also my inbox/social media is always open for anyone who needs to talk, I love you all <3

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

“Hey and if any of them give you trouble today, you call alright? Me and Steve will come sort them out right away”, Bucky playfully huffed, even going so far as to puff his chest out dramatically. Even though it was light-hearted you detected the subtle truth behind it; there was no doubt in your mind that Bucky wouldn’t follow through with his promise. You smiled at him, subconsciously squeezing his fingers as you usually did when deep in thought.

Bucky, being ever alert, could tell your anxiety was peaking as you often disconnected from reality when your nerves were bad.

“You know I’d never let anything hurt you”, Bucky stated in a soothing tone, “You’re the most precious thing to me”. He pulled you into a warm hug. Breathing in the scent of his cool, fresh cologne brought you back down to Earth, wrapping your arms around his thick middle you replied, “I know, I love you”. Bucky slowly dropped his arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Go get a move on, you’re going to be late doll”.

You chuckled as you knew you were at least half an hour early, arriving with plenty of time before your shift started was one way you combatted your worry.

“And I’m sure Steve’s getting into all kinds of trouble without you”, you teased, touching your bag one last time to make you had it, you started to walk towards your work entrance. “Of course he is! Damn kid can’t stay outta it!”, Bucky called getting into his car, “I’ll be here to pick you up at 5 sharp! Have a good day, I love you!”. Smiling to yourself, you opened the doors and let yourself into the office but not before turning around one last time to watch Bucky go. As was the norm Bucky had his head sticking out of the car window, his hand already raised to wave you farewell. After copying his action you finally went inside. The Winter Soldier waited till he saw your figure disappear through the clear-paned doors, and he even waited a few extra minutes just in case you’d forgotten something, but when you never came back out, he decided it was all good for him to leave.

Having your boyfriend drop you into work always left you in good spirits.It set a positive tone for your day, so when you saw your least favourite co-workers huddled together you tried not to let the good vibes falter. You couldn’t help but notice the way their faces seemed to develop sinister smirks, or how their voices became hushed whispers. Trying to push the distress to the back of your mind, you greeted them softly and rushed to your desk, painfully aware of how on edge you could feel yourself becoming.

Pulling out your phone, Bucky had already texted you:

From: Winter Princess <3

Miss you already :((

Don’t stress about ur colleagues, they’re a bunch of asses anyway.

love you xoxo

His message caused you to relax slightly, growing more content you tapped out a reply. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t see your co-workers creeping closer to you, mischief all to clear in their minds.“Hey (Y/N)”, Todd’s voice broke your tranquil state. Your eyes dashed up to see that Todd was in the entryway to your booth while Jessica was leaning on the top of it, an insidious look on her face despite the sickly-sweet smile. Your mouth suddenly felt dryer than a desert, “Can I--um--Can I help you?”, you stammered out.

It was no secret that recently this pair had become more troublesome than usual. It was nothing too serious, just the occasional tormenting here and there. To anyone else it would’ve seemed like nothing more than playfully work banter, but to you it was so much more. Your anxiety justified it as some personal vendetta that the two had against you, you couldn’t prove this though so you opted to not tell your boss.

Once Bucky had found that they were causing you hassle, he wanted nothing more than to come into your workplace to shake them up a little, to see how they enjoyed being made to feel purposely uncomfortable. Of course you told him no, your boss would fire you. To say Bucky was overprotective was an understatement but he had good reason to be. You were the most important person to him and he’d be damned if he’d let a bunch of lowlifes upset you, even for a second.

“You can actually”, Jessica chimed, “There’s this totally cool video floating about recently about this new game, have you seen it?”.

You could already feel the sweat forming on your brow, nonetheless you willed yourself to remain calm. “I haven’t actually, what’s it about?”, you hadn’t meant to indulge them in their twisted enjoyment, but it felt rude to tell them to go away and just the mere thought caused more stress. Todd made his way over to your computer, “Oh you’ll just love it, I promise”, he grinned in a friendly manner, although there was nothing friendly about it.

All you could do was smile meekly as you watched Todd invade your personal area, He pulled up YouTube, clicked on a video and made it full screen. “Watch this”, he instructed before returning to Jessica. You could hear them snickering behind you, instead of focusing on them you put your attention into the video. You were genuinely confused. The video seemed to display a room in which absolutely nothing was happening, it caused you to pay even closer attention to the detail in the video as you were worried you were missing something. And that’s when it happened.

Out of nowhere an ugly, contorted face popped up on the screen accompanied by the loudest, shrillest scream you’d ever heard. One that you were sure would provide you with nightmares if the face didn’t.

You lurched backwards, falling out of your chair. A shout that rivalled the one from the video left your mouth as you started to convulse. Your heart was violently beating so fast that you swear it was causing your ribcage to vibrate. It was a pain like no other. Your lungs couldn’t get in enough air. You scrambled around on the office floor for your phone while your co-workers laughed in hysterics. As you opened up your messaging app, you could already feel pins and needles spreading throughout your body making it harder to type as every few seconds your muscles would intensely shake.

Your brain was in fight or flight mode as you mindlessly texted Bucky. A fresh sob elicited from you every few seconds as the video played on an endless loop in your mind. Your body was feverishly hot, your cheeks like tomatoes, whether from fear or embarrassment or a combination of both, you didn’t know. With your phone in hand, you raced to the restroom too afraid that by staying out in the open something else could hurt you.

“It was only a joke (Y/N)!”, Jessica shouted after you even though barely heard it due to the drumming in your ears.

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

“I’m gonna kill ‘em”, Bucky growled, a look on his face that would make even the devil shake. His human hand was turning white from how hard he had it clenched, and he almost ripped the door off it’s hinges when he entered the office. Steve followed closely behind, trying his best to help his friend keep his cool, “Maybe don’t kill them? It’s not very beneficial in the long run”. Bucky shot a glare over his shoulder to the Captain, “Not. Now”.

They made it into the office workspace, Bucky used his skills to survey the area but he couldn’t see you. However, he did notice Jessica and Todd with sheepish looks on their features. Bucky’s boots thundered on the floor as he stomped over to them, he didn’t even need to get close to see how much they were shaking.

“Look we didn’t know alri--”, “Save it”, Bucky spat interrupting Todd’s poor excuse, “Just tell me where (Y/N) is”. Jessica gulped, “She’s in the women’s restroom”. The air in the office froze due to the cold coming from behind Bucky’s eyes. Your co-workers didn’t realise that you knew the Avengers let alone date one of them. “You go make sure she’s okay, I’ll see to these”, Steve quipped, rapidly adapting his Captain persona, an intimidating expression furrowed his brows. Bucky didn’t bother to wait around to hear the upcoming lecture from Steve.

Upon approaching the restroom, Bucky knocked softly on the door before entering.

“(Y/N)?”, he called out gently as to not frighten you. All of the anger and rage he felt quickly dispersed as he looked for you, feeling only sadness and a need to comfort you take its place. His ears picked up muffled cries. He followed it to the stall it was coming from. “(Y/N)? It’s me, it’s your Bucky”, he repeated in a steady whisper, giving the stall door a light nudge. The light poured in to reveal you sat on the toilet lid, your knees pulled into your chest as you rocked slightly. Your head tucked away. “It’s me doll, you’re safe now”, Bucky dropped to his knees to be level with you.

The noise of his movements caused you to lift your head slowly, still afraid of what you might see. Bucky’s blue eyes held nothing but love for you, his smile was warm and inviting, an incentive to go to him but you felt like you couldn’t move. Everything was stiff from fear, stress and paranoia. Ever so gradually, Bucky moved his hands until they touched your legs on either side. He drew patterns into the fabric covering them while murmuring sweet nothings about how you were safe now, coaxing you out of your defensive position.

In a flash you were pressed into Bucky’s chest. His arms around you in a protective cocoon.

“I was so scared”, you hiccuped, “It came out of nowhere”. New cries racked your body, Bucky did his best to calm them as he stroked your hair. “Nothing can hurt you now baby, you know I’d never let anything harm you”. Your arms were locked around his neck. Kiss after kiss Bucky placed on your temple, reassuring you every few second. When he could no longer feel your heartbeat stammering in your chest, or feel your body jolt from your cries, he rose slowly with you still encased in his arms.

“Where are we going?”, you sniffled. “I’m taking you home doll, then I’m going to run you a nice bath and wash your hair. After that we’re gonna eat some ice cream and you can pick any movie you want to watch”, he replied, pressing you closer to him. “Even chick flicks?”. A light chuckle rumbled through Bucky’s chest, “Even chick flicks”.

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jankyunsolved · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Find Balance [in your life] Summary: Who knew Steven Lim could inspire Ryan to go home to his two favorite people?

Or: Ryan Bergara works too hard and neglects what’s important, but his partners welcome him home anyway.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21983251

Sara 💓: The bed is cold without you.

Ryan glanced at his phone and did a double take when he saw it was a text from his group chat with Shane and Sara. He picked up his phone with shaking hands, the coffee he just finished still rushing through his veins, and opened the text.

When was the last time he saw Sara? Shane, he saw almost every day, but Sara? He hadn’t slept at their place since they announced the launch of Watcher, and that was weeks ago. He slept at his much closer house, or as of late, on the floor of the office for cat naps.

He’d been working nonstop on getting videos edited, checking Instagram, Snapchat, YouTube, and Twitter, meeting with sponsors and completing paperwork; creating their own channel was a never ending job.

Shane’s been working from home for almost a week and a half due to a minor disagreement between them (first big fight since he began dating Shane and Sara, and Ryan couldn’t even remember what it was about, so he tripled his workload instead of dealing with it) and Steven left for the night a few minutes ago, so Ryan was alone, frantically working on edits and posts that could probably wait until Monday.

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. It was already 9:53, and if he could just finish this final edit, he might be able to leave and sleep in his own bed by 1:00AM before coming back to the office bright and early on a Saturday to try and get ahead. “Sorry,” he started to type. “Work calls.” He almost hit send when he got a notification that Steven posted a video on Instagram.

He watched the video. It was Steven in that very office, and Ryan must’ve been making coffee when he made it, because his workstation was dark and empty.

It was just Steven, sitting in a chair in an empty room, talking. But what he had to say was more inspirational than Ryan was expecting. Taking care of yourself, fostering your relationships, finding hobbies, leaving work when the temptation is there to keep working.

Ryan felt like he couldn’t breathe, one phrase echoing inside his head: “My identity doesn’t only live in my work.” He looked around his small space, at his open laptop and desktop, at the lack of pictures, doodles, little knick knacks that would usually surround him as he worked. Plain white. And he knew that they were moving to an even bigger office soon, but that didn’t stop Steven or Shane from decorating their small space.

He pushed himself away from his desk, ducking his head between his knees. Anxiety rippled through his body. How much has Watcher taken over my life?

After breathing and waiting for the wave of nausea to leave, he opened his texts and flinched at what he almost texted Sara. “God, what a fucking fool,” he whispered as he erased what he typed and simply wrote, “I’m coming home.” He hoped that not only would Sara welcome him this late, but that whatever happened between him and Shane could be squashed as well. “Wishful thinking,” Ryan said, pulling himself back to his desk. “I don’t even know what we fought about.”

He saved what he was working on, turned off all the tech in the small office that they were temporarily occupying, and glanced at the board. 80,000 subscribers. 20,000 away from the goal their sponsors were expecting to be met by January 10th. How to get 20,000 over a holiday…

“Stop,” Ryan said out loud. “Business can wait until Monday. Sara is waiting for you, and maybe Shane too.”

He put on his backpack, turned off the lights, and made his way to the elevator, waving to the security guard who was stationed on the floor. With laser focus, Ryan pressed the down button, got on the elevator, and went to the parking garage beneath the building.

Keys in hand, Ryan ran to his car. The quicker he got in his car, the less likely he was gonna turn around and go back to work. He blasted music in his car, a mix of local LA rappers and the metal of his youth, to make sure he stayed awake, and then he made his way to Shane and Sara’s apartment.

Traffic was terrible, as always, and he made it to their apartment a little after eleven. He parked his car in the last available parking spot and then grabbed his bag, hesitating for a moment. He looked at his phone and saw that Sara responded.

Sara 💓: I’ll reheat a snack for you.

He didn’t know what to say. How could he thank her when he was being the worst? He took a shuddering breath and opened his car door.

It’s now or never.

He had keys to their apartment, so he didn’t waste time by knocking on the door. He just unlocked it and stepped inside, quietly closing and locking the door behind him. He slipped off his shoes and lined them up with the others that were in the entryway and dropped his bag by Sara’s.

There were few lights on in the apartment. The Christmas tree was lit up, and Ryan saw Obi curled up beneath it, watching him. The light was on in the kitchen, and Ryan went there first. Standing at the microwave was Sara, in an old t-shirt that she usually slept in. She turned and looked at Ryan, and the genuine smile that graced her mouth brought tears to his eyes.

“Hey,” she said softly, as if she could see and feel his fragility. “We had Chinese and we got all your favorites, which you can eat tomorrow.” Just before the microwave beeped, Sara turned and opened it, taking out two egg rolls on a small plate.

Ryan beamed and stepped fully into the kitchen, reached for Sara and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They stood in silence, Sara leaning into Ryan as he devoured the eggrolls, his hands shaking as he consumed something that wasn’t a granola bar or coffee. She had her arm wrapped around his waist and her head resting on his shoulder.

When he was finished, she took the plate from him and washed it and Ryan dried it before putting it back in its place. Then he finally looked at Sara again and blew out a heavy breath. “Shane?” he asked, not sure what he was asking, not sure what he was wanting to know.

“Downstairs, getting some sheets from the dryer.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and looked up at him. “You look exhausted.”

“I am exhausted.”

“Bed?”

Ryan shrugged. “I just had coffee and I need to shower and my mind is just running running running—“ Ryan froze when Sara interrupted him with a kiss, sensing he was on his way to a rambling frenzy.

“Shower. Sleepy Time Tea. Bed. I already set out clothes for you in the bathroom.”

“Oh Sara,” he kissed her softly and she sighed against his mouth. “What did I do to deserve you?”

-----

Ryan turned off the water and pulled back the shower curtain just as there was a knock on the unlocked door. “Yeah?” It opened slowly, and there was Shane with a towel folded over his arm.

“Hey,” he said softly, and Ryan smiled, stepped out of the tub and onto the mat.

“Hey.” He reached for the towel that Shane had, but paused when Shane closed the distance, unfolded it, and began gently drying him off with the still warm towel. He must’ve dried it with the sheets. Ryan’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but he found he couldn’t even say anything.

Reverently, Shane made sure that Ryan was dry, starting at his head and moving down, even kneeling at his feet to dry his legs. Once again, Ryan felt fragile, as if his very core was made of glass. He looked down at Shane, his vision swimming in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, needing to apologize, needing to say something, “I’m sorry I’ve been so impatient and stressed and I took it out on you.”

Knelt at his feet, Shane looked up at him, and Ryan’s knees trembled as Shane opened his mouth and paused, before saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t try and talk to you sooner.” Shane then pressed his forehead against his hip for a moment, hugging his legs. Ryan shook harder as he ran his fingers through Shane’s hair.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, Ryan trying to stay upright, and Shane holding him. A few tears finally escaped his eyes and he swallowed thickly; Shane just squeezed him tighter. Ryan was thankful Shane didn’t try and talk him through this, giving him a few moments of peace that he didn’t even know he desperately needed.

When Ryan finally stopped sniffling, Shane kissed his hip and pulled away. “Sara made some tea.” His thumbs rubbed soothingly as Ryan still trembled.

“Okay.”

“You think you can drink it?”

“I—I don’t—I don’t know.”

“Let’s try.”

Shane stood up, groaning as his knees popped, but he just smiled and shrugged at Ryan, as if to say, “What can ya do?” He hung the towel up and went to the still open door, pausing as Ryan slipped on pajama pants and a t-shirt. They linked fingers and Ryan followed him to the couch where Sara was nestled in the corner with her own cup, and another one was on the coffee table. Obi had moved from the tree to nestle in Sara’s lap.

Ryan sat down next to Sara, easing himself until he was pressed against her side. Sara cradled her cup in one hand and took Ryan’s in her other. Shane draped a blanket over his lap, and then handed him his tea.

Ryan sipped at the perfect blend of chamomile and vanilla as Shane fiddled with the remotes until a roaring fire appeared on the TV. Ryan grinned; Shane and Sara went absolutely wild for this kind of stuff. When the fire was on, Shane finally settled on the couch, sitting on Ryan’s other side and resting his arm behind him.

Halfway through his tea, as Obi went from Sara’s lap to his and was making biscuits on his stomach, Ryan’s eyes began to close and his head rocked forward.

“Let’s get you to bed, Little Guy,” Shane said softly, collecting his mug. Sara picked up Obi and Ryan stretched and stood up, folding the blanket and leaving it on the couch. Sara took his hand and led him to the bedroom, where it was nice and cool. Obi jumped from Sara’s arm and made his way to his little cat bed in the corner.

“Wanna be in the middle?”

“God, yes,” he said, around another yawn. He crawled onto the bed and Sara pulled the blanket up and over him before getting in on her side and snuggling up to him. The sheets and blanket still held some warmth from the dryer, and Ryan burrowed deeper into the bed, making himself comfortable. He could hear Shane moving around the apartment, turning off lights, the TV, and double checking the door.

Ryan shivered when Sara slipped her hand into his hair and began massaging his scalp. “Ooooh fuuuuuuck,” he swore, his entire body going limp as she giggled. He didn’t even notice Shane coming into the room until he felt warmth at his back and an arm on his waist.

His eyes slid shut and he felt Shane lean over him and kiss Sara, whispering, “Goodnight, babe.” Then he felt Shane’s lips on his own cheek. “Goodnight, Ry-babe.”

Ryan tried to say goodnight, and he must’ve said something because he could hear Sara giggle and he felt Shane’s huff of breath against his cheek, but he was already falling fast asleep, nestled between his two favorite people

#Shyanara #Shyanara Fic #Fics by Me #Ot3: Ruining Mystery

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pipermasters · 6 years ago

Text

The Last Night- Phic Phight

Prompt: Full ghost Danny AU - his entire family dies in the Portal accident but he is the only one who sticks around Fenton Works to haunt the house. Eventually Sam & Tucker come in, following the rumors of a ghost haunting said house. @darknymfa

Tucker remembered the night vividly, no matter how hard he tried to forget it. The night his best friend died.

Tucker remembered the night vividly, no matter how hard he tried to forget it. The night his best friend died. Danny was video calling Tucker and Sam, ecstatic at the thought of showing them the moment his parents turned on the portal and busted a hole into the ghost dimension.

Tucker and Sam watched intensely through their screens as Danny’s parents turned the machine on, beaming.

“Guys- it worked!” Danny cheered, flipping the camera to face him. His face was a Christmas tree, alight with excitement and awe. Jazz bent to give him a sisterly kiss on the cheek, Danny pretending to gag as he hugged her. It was been a beautiful moment... until it wasn’t.

Sparks started to fly, and Danny’s face fell. Tucker could still hear Jazz’s voice, warning her little brother to stay back. The teens heard a scream and suddenly, the line was dead.

Tucker had never run faster in his life. A normal walk to Danny’s would take him 20 minutes, but that night, he made it there in 5. Fire engines and police cruisers came screeching to a halt in front of the burning building; a cop pulled Tucker away from the door, instructing him to stay back.

“Danny! He’s my friend! Let go of me- he’s still in there!”

The cops promised he’d be fine; they promised they’d get him out in time.

They lied.

It had taken hours to get the fire managed, even longer for it to be safe to send in firefighters. Tucker never stopped shouting, never stopped fighting to get past the police line.

It was 2 AM when the fire was finally extinguished. A small crowd had gathered around the building, whispering quietly amongst themselves. Tucker’s frantic cries had turned hysteric, tears streaming down his face.

He was too distressed notice Sam show up; he didn’t realize she was by his side, screaming just as loudly. Tucker didn’t see the fight slowly leaving her as they watched, helpless, as the fire consume Fenton Works.

Sam saw the final fireman exit the building. He stopped the EMT’s from going in with a sad shake of his head. It didn’t take a genius to understand what was wrong; there was no one to save.

Tucker refused to move, grief weighing him down. He kept staring at the remains of the front door, hoping and begging to see Danny crawling from the wreckage. It was daylight before his parents were finally able to coax him off the ground.

Tucker sobbed at the funeral, despondent as people mourned an empty coffin. He spoke at the service, as best he could, sharing his favorite memories with Danny. The day they had met in day care, their first reactions to having homework. Sam’s eyes were shining as he talked about how excited Danny had been for their first day of high school, which was only been a few short weeks away.

The rest of the summer was empty and depressed. Tucker rarely got out of bed, instead staying in his dark room, feeling his heart physically break.

The school board had offered to let Tucker begin school a week later than other students, to give him more time to grieve. Tucker refused. He had to experience the first day of school, not for himself, but for Danny.

Casper high was quiet and subdued. Though no one had been close to either of the Fenton kids the loss had hit the community hard. In the few short weeks they’d been gone, the people of Amity Park had come to realize just how prominent the Fenton’s had been.

Jack Fenton was no longer roaming the streets in his van, searching for ghosts. The people on his street found they missed hearing the family do their daily ghost drills.

Maddie Fenton was no longer there to be part of the PTA. The parents had to learn the hard way how hard it was to plan events without her there to take command.

Jazz Fenton was no longer able to offer tutoring. Her summer clients were forced to move on and find new students to help them study. None of them were as good as she was.

Danny Fenton was no longer there. Period. He wasn’t there running around with his friends. He wasn’t there raising his hand in science class, eyes bright with curiosity. He was no longer there to smile his bright, beautiful, sunshine smile.

The Fenton’s were no longer there, and the community felt it every day.

That first day the school held an assembly in honor of Jazz and Danny. A plaque was to be placed in the entryway of the school in their memory. Though Danny had never been a student at Casper High, most teachers knew him through Jazz; they felt it more appropriate to memorialize the siblings together. The principal introduced the school’s new grief counselor, urging everyone to feel free to meet with him. Teachers took it easy on the students, slowly integrating homework into their workload.

As the year went on, the shock of the tragedy began to wear off. The building was left as the wreck it was; it had been left to Maddie’s sister. However, since no one could contact the recluse, the city gated off the building until such a time as they were legally able to claim it.

Tucker and Sam had been granted access before it was closed, sifting through the ash in hopes of finding something, anything, of Danny’s. Tucker had found half of Danny’s model rocket, unharmed, and hung it in his room. Sam found a family portrait, charred, but intact. She kept it in a box under her bed, pulling it out every time she feared she was forgetting Danny’s smile.

Months after the accident, Fenton Works had become the designated spot for teenage shenanigans. Students would dare each other to go in, joking that the house was haunted. It angered Tucker to no end, watching his friend’s house be so disrespected.

“Just ignore it, Tuck,” Sam said as Dash ran into the cafeteria, boasting that he’d found the remains of a bra in the house the night before.

“I can’t!” Tucker snapped, glaring at Dash and his friends. “You don’t get it Sam- you only knew them for a year. I practically grew up in that house; they were like my second family! How can you be okay with this?”

“I’m not.” She stabbed her salad with more force than necessary. “Trust me, it pisses me off just as much as you.”

“You sure don’t show it.”

Sam shrugged. “I distract myself. When I hear stories like that, I just imagine what Mr. Fenton would think if he knew these kids thought he house was haunted.”

Tucker cracked a small smile- the first in a long time. “He’d be furious.”

“I know. To think all it took for this town to believe in ghosts was the death of a ghost hunter.”

Tucker chuckled, ducking his head.

“What?” Sam asked, heart lifting at the sound of laughter.

“Nothing,” Tucker tried to stifle his amusement. “Just had this funny idea of Mr. Fenton haunting the place.”

Sam dissolved into giggles. “I can totally see it!” She sat up and puffed out her chest, lowering her voice in her best impression of Jack. “Don’t believe in ghosts, do ya? Well what do ya say to this? BEWARE!”

“Dad!” Tucker said in a high pitch. “You can’t go around haunting people- it might stunt their psychological development!”

For the first time since the accident, the pair burst into pure, genuine laughter. Across the cafeteria people looked over, shocked and pleased by what they saw. It was Tucker’s laughter that truly sparked the healing of the community.

Tucker went to bed that night, still laughing at the idea of the Fenton’s haunting their old home.

The next day, the idea didn’t seem so funny.

Tucker was changing for gym in the locker room when he heard Dash swear.

“Who took my underwear?” The jock demanded.

“Why’d you take it off?” Wes, another freshman, asked in disgust.

“To shower!”

“Why do you need a shower? We haven't had class yet!”

“Don’t tell me how to live my life, Weston!” Dash yelled.

“Maybe you pissed off a Fenton the other day,” Kwan joked.

The room went silent as heads turned to Tucker. It wasn’t a secret that he didn’t like the ghost jokes, and while upperclassmen didn’t seem to care, there was an unspoken agreement among the freshmen not to make them around him. However, Tucker found himself laughing.

“You did steal a bra,” he pointed out to the delight of his classmates. “Maybe this is revenge.”

Dash scoffed, declaring he would just go commando as the boys filed into the gym. The girls were already there, gathered under a basketball hoop, snickering.

“What’s so funny?” Tucker wondered, watching as the girls looked back at Dash and laughed harder.

Wes shrugged, making his way to the front of the crowd. Hanging from the hoop was a pair of boxers, ‘Dash Baxter’ embroidered on the waist.

Laughter exploded in the gym as Dash grabbed them, running back to the locker room in embarrassment.

That was how it started. After that, there were more and more reports of strange things happening to people who went to the Fenton house. Dash continued losing his underwear in the locker room, only for them to show up in increasingly random locations. The day after Kwan snuck in to drink a beer, the water fountain exploded in his face. Then, the hauntings became stranger.

Star mentioned that Jazz must have cheated to earn such a high score on her C.A.T; she found her test prep material shredded in her locker. A substitute teacher remarked that the Fenton’s had deserved their end, messing with something as unholy as ghosts. For the rest of the day she was locked out of every door she encountered. The weirdest though, was when Mr. Lancer was handing back tests.

Tucker knew he had failed the test- he hadn’t even read the book. However, the test he was handed back had scored a 92%. As Tucker looked it over, he noticed that almost all of the answers he had put had been erased and corrected.

“It was a joke, Tucker,” Sam repeated for what must have been the tenth time in ten minutes. “I didn’t think you would take it so seriously.”

“C’mon Sam!” Tucker begged. “It makes sense!”

“They’re just pranks! Sooner or later whoever’s pulling them is gonna get bored and move on.”

“You can’t seriously believe that!”

“Yes,” Sam shut her locker. “I can.” She sighed, looking at Tucker sadly. “I understand why you want to believe it Tuck; I really do. The idea that Danny’s still here... I’d do anything to see him again.”

“What if we could?” Tucker asked, gears spinning in his head.

“Could what?”

“See Danny!”

Sam gave him a hard look. “Why do I have the feeling you aren’t talking about pictures?”

“When Danny and I were, like, 12 or something we bought an Ouija board-”

“Oh my God.”

“We were too chicken to use it, but what if-”

“You can not be serious!”

“Please Sam!” Tucker begged. “I know...I know it’s crazy. I know it won’t work. But...” He trailed off, voice cracking.

Sam stood there for a moment, watching her best friend struggle to find the words to convince her. “Fine,” she caved. “We’ll go- maybe it’ll be fun. I’ve always wanted to speak to a real ghost!”

She met Tucker at the remains of Fenton works at midnight, long after the rest of the town was asleep.

“I gotta admit,” Tucker confessed as they scaled the chain link fence. “This seemed like a much better idea in the daylight.”

“Can’t back out now,” Sam smiled. “Besides, the darkness makes it more authentic!”

The two moved to the darkest corner, settling down with the Ouija board between them.

“This is the real deal,” Sam observed as she inspected the board. “Where did you and Danny find this thing?”

“An old antique shop- the owner swore it let him talk to his dead wife.”

“The why’d he sell it?”

“Apparently she was still nagging him about fixing a leak in their basement.”

Sam chuckled. “Did Mr. Fenton know that Amity Park had a ghost specifically haunting leaky faucet?”

“Why else do you think two 12-year old’s were in an antique store?” Tucker snickered.

“The instructions say to balance the board on our knees,” Sam explained, reading the rules by the glow of her cellphone. “Don’t apply too much pressure to the planchette; just rest your fingers so it’s free to move around the board.”

The two jumped as the rubble shifted behind them, the silence of the night making the sound that much louder.

“It just occurred to me that trying to talk to spirits in the remain of a ghost lab probably isn’t the smartest choice,” Tucker laughed shakily.

“Do you still want to do this?”

“Yeah,” he responded without hesitation.

Sam finished explaining the rules, setting her phone aside and balancing the board on her knees. “Let’s do this.”

Gulping, Tucker placed two fingers on the planchette and whispered, “Hello?”

“Let’s hope the ghosts aren’t deaf,” Sam muttered.

“Hello?” Tucker said again, louder. Nothing happened.

“Anyone here?” Sam tried. “We aren’t here to hurt you- we’re just here to talk. Preferably to one of the Fenton’s’ but, whatever.”

Nothing.

The two sat there in silence, holding their breath as they waiting for the planchette to move. After a few minutes, Sam let out a heavy breath. “Tuck, I don’t think-”

“Let me try something!” Tucker interrupted. With one hand he reached into his backpack, pulling out what was left of Danny’s rocket, setting it by the board.

“This was made by my best friend,” Tucker looked up at the remains of the ceiling. “His name is Danny. Danny Fenton.” He paused. “He lived here his whole life. He grew up here. He and Jazz were measured on the same wall in the kitchen. He got so mad when she got taller! He broke his wrist jumping out of his window on a dare.”

“What are you doing?” Sam asked quietly.

“Trying to fill the place with good memories- Mr. Fenton once said ghosts are attracted to that.”

“Oh. Proceed.”

“I spent most of my childhood here too. Danny and I used to ride our tricycles around the kitchen while his mom made cookies; Snickerdoodles of course- those are Danny’s favorites. One time, when we were 5, Jazz had Racheal and Maggie over for her first sleepover and they snuck us candy when we were supposed to be in bed.” Tucker laughed. “And there was this one time, when we were 9, Danny and I decided to run away. We snuck out of the house and got as far as the park before Mr. Fenton found us on his ghost patrol. We were so scared he’d be mad but he just... he just sat us down and explained the dangers of going out at night.”

“Dangers?” Sam raised an eye brow. “What kinds of dangers?”

“Ghosts, mostly. But he also asked us why we’d run away to begin with.”

“Why had you?”

“Dash called Danny a freak- told him he didn’t belong here. And ya know, for all the crazy things Jack Fenton has said, I’m never gonna forget what he told us that night.”

“What’d he tell you?”

Tucker smiled sadly, eyes glassy. “That it didn’t matter what Dash or anyone else thought; we’re family and we’ll always belong.”

Sam grinned. “Smartest thing he’s ever said. However,” She glanced down at the board. “I don’t think he, or any other ghost is gonna say anything tonight.”

“Yeah,” he agreed dejectedly. “I guess not.”

The two said goodbye, slowly packing the board back into Tucker’s backpack.

“It’s late,” yawned Sam. “I think it’s time to go.”

“Go ahead,” Tucker leaned back on the ground, staring at the stars. “I’m just... gonna hang here for a minute.”

Sam thought about protesting but seeing the despair in his eyes made her stop. This was something he needed in order to move on. After making him promise to text her when he got home, she bid him goodnight and left.

Tucker watched the stars in silence, mind wandering through memories of him and Danny.

“5...4...3...2...1,” Tucker whispered to no one, lifting the rocket and flying it around. “Ladies and gentlemen the Red Ranger, the first rocket to be both built and piloted by the same person, has launched! How’s it looking’ up there Captain Danny? Excellent! With the speeds you’re going at you’ll be able to meet aliens on Mars and be back in time for cookies before bedtime!”

As he spoke, Tucker imagined him and Danny at 7 years old, playing in the Fenton’s backyard; Danny sitting in his cardboard rocket and Tucker with his cereal box mission control.

“Mission control, I am at Mars!” Danny announced, jumping out of the box and sneaking towards the swing set. “I can see the aliens!”

“What do they look like Captain Danny?”

Danny peered around the slide to see Jazz reading as she swung.

“Gross! They look like girls! This planet is infected with cooties!” Jazz glared at her little brother with a mischievous smile.

“Abort mission!” Tucker yelled. “I repeat, abort mission!”

“Rodger, heading back to the rocket now.” As Danny turned, Jazz jumped off the swing, chasing him. Danny squeaked when she tickled his sides.

“Mission control, help! The alien sees me!”

“Mission control can’t help you!” Jazz laughed as Tucker jumped up. “He’s back on Earth!”

Tucker sat down defeated before pulling his cardboard screens closer. “Captain Danny, go left!”

The three laughed as Jazz chased Danny around the yard, Tucker shouting directions at Danny. Danny jumped into his rocket, screaming with joy as Jazz shook it.

“The alien’s got me!”

“Alien?” Maddie Fenton asked, walking out.

“Yeah!” Danny beamed at his mother. “She followed me from Mars- she’s trying to give everyone on Earth cooties!”

“Goodness! Going to mars and fighting aliens? You must be hungry! Good thing I made some cookies!”

“COOKIES!” Tucker exclaimed, jumping up as Danny tumbled out of his rocket.

“No cookies for Jazz- she’ll get cooties all over them!” Danny demanded, sticking his tongue out.

“I think we have enough to share,” Maddie smiled, hugging her daughter as the boys ran inside. “Even aliens from Mars get hungry.”

“I can’t believe we named our first rocket ‘The Red Ranger’,” A voice said.

Tucker turned to see who was speaking, and nearly jumped out of his skin. “Danny!?”

A kid was reclining next to him, looking almost like Danny, but not quite. Black hair had gone white, pasty skin now a pale shade of green. The teen was wearing the classic black and white Hazmat suit the Fenton’s had been wearing the night of the accident, but the colors were inverted. Two glowing red eyes stared back as Tucker’s jaw hit the ground.

“Hey Tuck,” Danny said softly.

“Oh my God!” Tucker scrambled to sit up, staring at the ghost of his best friend. “I knew it! I knew you were here! Wait, how are you here? Are you real? Is this a dream? Oh my God, have I just gone crazy with grief and now I’m hallucinating-”

“Tucker, it’s me,” Danny smiled tiredly.

Tucker launched himself at Danny, hugging him as tightly as possible.

“It’s a good thing I don’t need to breath anymore,” the ghost joked.

“Sorry, sorry!” Tucker sat back, staring in awe. “You look... different. Like a-”

“Like a ghost?” Danny chuckled.

“Yeah.” He shook his head, smiling. “I can’t believe you’re here! I knew it from the moment Dash first lost his underwear!”

“Tucker-”

“That was hilarious! And my test grade? I don’t know how you knew but- wait, how did you know?”

“I’ve been... watching.” Danny confessed awkwardly.

“Watching?” Tucker moved away, suddenly angry. “Watching? You’ve been watching us this whole time and never thought about appearing? Didn’t think we might like to know you’re okay? Well, I mean, not okay okay, but okay in afterlife terms!”

“I-”

“What, were you just in my room, watching me suffer? Do you have any idea how hard this has been? Do you even care?”

“Tucker,” Danny sat up, grabbing his arm. “I didn’t show up before because I couldn’t. I didn’t have enough power yet.”

“Power?” Tucker questioned, anger slowly ebbing away.

“Yeah,” Danny grinned. “Being a ghost is kinda like being a superhero. Watch this,” his hand began to glow as he fired a glowing ball of green energy. It burst in the sky like a firework, though it made virtually no sound.

“Wow! What else can you do?”

For the next few hours the two sat together, talking and joking around as Danny showed off his new powers. They stared at the stars, recounting some of their best missions with the Red Ranger. Danny told tucker how his parents and sister were doing, describing how they too had undergone physical changes in becoming ghosts.

“Sometimes dad forgets we’re dead,” Danny snorted, “He’s still trying to hunt all these ghosts. He met this ghost- Skulker- and it’s like he found his platonic soulmate. Mom’s happy too- turns out a friend from college is also a ghost. They’ve been talking non-stop, filling each other in on life post college.”

“And Jazz?”

“A little disappointed she can’t attend Harvard. I’m trying to convince her to haunt the library- casually have a book fall off a shelf to help someone out, ya know?”

Tucker laughed. “It sounds perfect.”

For a moment, it was silent, the two perfectly content to lay on the ashy floor of a burnt down building.

“Danny?”

“Yeah Tuck?”

Tucker rolled over so he was face to face with the ghost. “Why didn’t you show up earlier? When Sam was here?”

Danny closed his eyes briefly, as if preparing himself. “She’s grieved enough as it is- no reason to load more on her.”

“More?” Danny stayed silent. “Oh... you aren’t staying, are you?”

“There’s this whole new world for me to explore Tucker- more than one! There are hundreds of thousands of doors in the Ghost Zone, and they all lead somewhere different! Different times, different places- I’m sure a few go to entirely different dimensions too!”

“So, take me with you!” Tucker smiled. “Imagine it! You and me, traveling through time and space!”

“I have,” Danny said sadly. “You have no idea how much a wish we could do that.”

“Why can’t we?”

“Humans can’t survive in the Ghost Zone,” he explained. “Everything about the environment is catered to the dead, like how Earth is for the living. You could survive, but after a while...”

“I’d die?” Tucker guessed. Danny nodded soberly. “So, how are you here? If Earth is made for the living-”

“I can’t stay for much longer. It’s kind of like being a fish out of water- I more or less absorb the atmosphere of the ghost zone. Here, there’s nothing to absorb.”

“Right,” Tucker huffed awkwardly. “I’d ask for a better explanation, but I don’t want you to waste your breath... or absorption... I guess.”

Danny laughed, laying back on the ground. “I miss the stars,” he said wistfully. “I can’t see them in the Ghost Zone.”

“You could always come back,” Tucker offered hopefully. “Every night- video games and star gazing, just like the good old days.”

“I can’t,” Danny’s voice shook. “It’s not fair to you Tucker. You have a whole life to live- I would just hold you back.”

“You wouldn’t be-”

“How do you expect to live your life if you’re constantly waiting for your friend to come back from the dead and talk to you? Time isn’t even the same in the Ghost Zone as it is here. I could come back thinking it’s only been five minutes when it’s actually been five years.”

Tucker wanted to argue but couldn’t. “I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered tearfully.

“I wish I could stay,” Danny swallowed thickly, swiping a hand over his eyes.

“How much time do you have left?”

Danny looked at his friend, a mischievous glint in his glowing eyes. “Enough to give you a flying lesson.”

“Flying-” Tucker yelped as Danny scooped him up as if he weighed nothing, slowly floating into the sky. Tucker kept his arms locked around the ghosts’ neck, screaming when Danny pretended to drop him.

“Open your eyes you wimp,” Danny teased, hovering high above the buildings. Slowly, Tucker’s eyes cracked open, taking in the sight of a sleeping Amity Park beneath him.

“Wow...” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed, soaring over rooftops. “Beautiful.”

Tucker woke up the next morning, cold and sore, curled up on the floor of the Fenton house. His phone was blowing up with texts from Sam, demanding to know why he had never texted her. Sleepily, he apologized, explaining that he must have fallen asleep.

Depressed, he packed his rocket into his bag, convinced that the previous night was a dream. He couldn’t find the Ouija board, assuming Sam had taken it with her.

I’m meeting you at your house. She texted him. You have a lot of explaining to do.

“Tucker Foley!” She snapped as he entered his bed room. “Do you have any idea how bad you scared me? I stayed up as late as I could waiting for you to text me!”

“I’m sorry Sam. I really didn’t mean-” He froze looking past her to his bed. The Ouija board was resting on his pillow, the planchette resting over the word goodbye.

“You better have a good explanation.” Sam huffed. “What happened last night?”

“Nothing,” Tucker said, smiling at the board. “Just had a really great dream.”

#phic phight #prompts #darknymfa #Danny Phantom #fanfiction

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willows-horde · 6 years ago

Text

I’m actually really proud of this. I hadn’t touched this in years apparently and I’d been wanting to finish it for a while and I finally did. Basically, this is the first chapter of the game. Written out. So... if you’ve played it you know what to expect. I’ve been wanting to practice writing different types of writing, and still do, so I guess this was practice in writing horror and an overly creepy atmosphere.

the Evil Within: chapter one (literally) word count: 6623

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It was raining hard when Officer Oscar Connelly picked up the three detectives. There wasn't any thunder or lightning just a heavy rain. Sebastian Castellanos, the lead detective of the three, sat up front in the passenger’s seat. Behind him sat his partner, Joseph Oda, who was currently looking through his notes from their latest case. Next to Joseph, and behind the driver’s seat, was Juli Kidman who sat in silence with her arms crossed. Then someone spoke through the police radio. “All units, all units; 11-99, expedite cover code 3. Beacon Mental Hospital.”

Oscar picked up the comm device and, bringing it to his mouth, pressed the button on the side and said, “184 copy; code 3. ETA 3 minutes.” He replaced the comm unit, than switched on both the police siren and lights.

“Copy 184,” came the response.

After he turned onto the road leading to the hospital, he stated, “Sorry detectives,” as he glanced in the rear-view at the two in the back. Then, as he continued, he turned to the man next to him. “I know you just comin' off a case but I'm afraid we're gonna have to make a detour.”

Joseph, having been listening, closed and rested his notepad on his lap. Turning his attention to Oscar he said, “Sounds serious. Is it a riot?”

“Call went out just before I picked you up. Said it was 'multiple homicides.' Half a dozen units already on-scene,” he informed them. The woman spoke over the police radio again, though, since the message was to a someone else, they didn't respond. Oscar looked in the rearview to Joseph. “Hey, maybe it's the ghost of that doctor who went schizo and chopped up all those patients.”

Joseph sat up straight in his seat and turned to Oscar. “That's not what happened. Some patients disappeared. Some kind of scandal?”

“Still, gives ya the creeps, doesn't it?” Oscar stated. The detective leaned back into his seat again.

Then from the police radio, “127, 124, please respond...”

Sebastian twisted around in his seat to look back at his partner. “Joseph, you think there's a connection?”

“It's a possibility,” he told him. He then lifted his notepad holding it from the bottom and waved it slightly as he continued. “I believe the records were sealed.”

The woman from the radio spoke again. “Anyone on-scene, respond...”

Reaching over, Sebastian picked up the comm device. “Dispatch this is Detective Castellanos in 184, what's the situation, over?”

“184 be advised, some problem...” At this point there was static and she began to cut out. Sebastian started to ask dispatch something when there was suddenly a high-pitched sound emitted from the speaker of the police radio.

Both Sebastian and Connelly cursed at the noise. Connelly accidentally swerved the vehicle as he lifted a hand to her ear to try to block out the noise. Despite that he quickly regained control and kept driving. Joseph removed his glasses and brought a hand to his head. Juli Kidman, who had been quite during the entirety of the trip, showed no response to the noise. “Junior Detective Kidman, any thoughts?” Sebastian asked as he looked back at her in the rearview.

“Nothing yet,” she told him as she looked back at him. Then, as she turned her attention back out the window, she stated, “I'm sure we'll know everything once we get there.”

Connelly hadn't even fully stopped the car in front of the gate to the hospital when both Kidman and Sebastian opened their doors. Joseph waited until they had completely stopped before he exited the vehicle. Closing his door, Sebastian stepped up to the open gate. The other two detectives followed suit. “What do you make of it?” Joseph asked him as he stepped up behind him.

He looked back to the police car. “Connelly.” Connelly pushed open his door and stepped out of the vehicle. “Contact Dispatch and let them know what's happening. Joseph, Kidman,” he turned back to the open gate in front of him as he continued. “You're with me. We're going to have a look around.”

“Right...” Kidman stated as she followed them inside.

Just inside the gate there was a round-about; and all along it were police cars. A few had there lights flashing but all of them were empty. There wasn't a person in sight. Joseph walked around the left side while Sebastian, with Kidman following him, went along the right. “There are no weapons left in their cars.” Sebastian heard Joseph say from the the other side.

With a glance over at Kidman, Sebastian asked, “What do you see Kidman?”

“Rain is gonna wash away any evidence,” she stated without much hesitation. Well, she wasn't wrong.

Sebastian was the first to reach the double doors of the hospital. Cracking open the left door, he flinched away from the smell. “Smells like blood,” Joseph commented as he stepped up next to him.

“All right, stay sharp,” Sebastian told him. With a nod, Joseph removed his handgun from its holster at his side. He pushed the right door open slightly at first, than quickly open the rest of the way as he then gripped his gun with both hands. Cautiously, he stepped inside and, glancing in all directions made his way in. As Kidman, who already had her gun drawn, stepped up to the doorway, Sebastian turned to her. “We're going to check it out. Don't let anyone else through this door.”

“I can be an extra set of eyes,” she told him.

“We don't know what's happening here. You're our backup.” And with that he turned away from her and stepped inside the lobby.

Just from the entryway Sebastian could already see half a dozen bodies. There was blood everywhere and pools of it where some of the bodies lay. On the other side of the lobby, across from the entrance, was the front desk. On the wall above the desk was the words 'Beacon Mental Hospital' with their insignia. As he looked around he spotted a set of double doors on both sides of the room. There were eight benches divided in sets of two. With each set was a circular table sitting between them. Lastly, for decoration, there were some pictures on the walls and a collection of plants around the room with the largest one in the direct center or the room.

They made it about half way through the lobby when they heard a clatter. “Did you hear something?” Joseph asked as he walked around the plant. Not a moment later he spotted an open door next the the front desk and, while keeping his guard up, jogged over. “Someone alive in here,” he called back out to his partner.

Joseph waited at the door as Sebastian hurried over and stepped back and out of the way when he arrived. They were in the security room. Most of the monitors were on and supplying feed from the countless cameras throughout the building. The man that Joseph had found looked to be a doctor. He was slumped down on the floor against a door. Sebastian knelt next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Are you injured? What happened here?” Joseph stepped over near the doctors other side.

As the doctor started to answer, Sebastian removed his hand from his shoulder. “...can't be real...” After a pause he continued. “Impossible. Ruvik, is...” It was all he could manage before he passed out.

Kneeling down, Joseph put a hand on his shoulder. “I've got him.” Looking to Sebastian, he told him. “The security cameras might tell us something.” Sebastian, with a nod, got to his feet.

Stepping over to the monitors, the sound of gunfire sounded from the one directly in front of him. Sebastian leaned forward on the counter and watched as people ran into view. They were cops, three of them. They stopped and turned around to fire their guns in the direction they had come. Suddenly, a figure all but appeared and struck at the officer furthest from the other two. And before he even hit the floor the figure in white seemingly teleported to the others and killed them as well. Sebastian was so shocked by what he saw he whispered, “What the hell?” The figure in white looked up at the camera and it zoomed in on his face for just a moment before he fazed out and disappeared. “What...?” A chill ran up his back and he turned slightly when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. As he turned all he managed was a 'huh' as he could have sworn he saw the figure from the video feed standing behind him, before he blacked out as the man in white lashed out at him.

- ~ - ~ -

As Sebastian came to, the first thing his senses picked up was music. Next came a faint dripping sound. He groggily opened his eyes. Slowly, he was starting to regain his bearings. He was... hanging upside-down, and there was something running down his arm and hand. He moved his hand so he could get see what it was. Blood. Was he injured..? Without moving much, he looked around. There was a lot of blood on the floor and he thought he saw someone else hanging close by. Than, with what strength he had, pulled himself up to see how exactly how he was hung. By a rope it seemed. He let himself drop back down and instantly tensed up. A man was approaching him from another room. Did he know he was awake?

The man was bald and wore a strange med-evil looking headpiece that looked more like a torture device than a mask. The only other thing he could tell about him was that he was a big guy. Thankfully, however, he only paused in front of him momentary before he walked past. Now that he was much more aware of his situation he noticed a blade stuck in the body he had noticed hanging close by. Suddenly, he heard a sickening sound. Sebastian wasn't sure he wanted to know what was happening; but even so, he risked a glance in the direction of the sound, and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the arm of big man swinging what could be a machete. Turning away, he hoped he didn't find out he was awake, all the while being forced to listen to whatever was happening.

When it was over, the butcher started walking back to the other room that was in front of him. As he stepped into his line of sight he carried with him the upper half of a man. Blood gushed from where his waist used to be. Sebastian knew in that instant, with obsolete certainty, that he needed to get out of there. Or he'd end up like that. Once the sadistic man stepped into the other room, Sebastian attempted to reach for the knife. It was his only chance of getting free and he couldn't reach it. Desperate, he swung his arm out and tried to grab for the knife again. Though despite not reaching it, he did realize that he was now swinging on the rope. That's good. Maybe if he could get enough momentum he could get close enough to grab it. He sent a quick glace past the body to the man in the other room. The sadist was... preoccupied, with the body that he had dropped onto a table.

After a couple minutes, Sebastian finally managed to get enough momentum in his swing to grab the blade. Immediately after he had it, he curled up and swung at the rope cutting himself free. He groaned as he landed on his back; than quickly pushed himself up into a crouch and looked to the other room. The music must have masked his fall since the man showed no sign of hearing him. The headache started as soon as he got to his feet. He felt for his gun, even though he didn't think he'd have it, and he was right. His trench coat was also gone, he'd noticed. That... was his most distressing loss. He'd gotten that from his wife before his life went to shit. Unfortunately, he didn't have the liberty to worry about that. He had to get out of here.

Sebastian took a quick survey of the area. From just a glance there were about five more bodies strung up, most of which were there a lot longer than he was. Then there was that other room, which he had absolutely no plan of going into. It was a room of death and that was putting it lightly. There was a wide doorway with no doors and a handful of high windows on either side of the doorway. And the smell that came from there; it hung so heavily in the air. Here he thought the smell of blood was bad as he entered the hospital. This was a lot worse.

Crouching down he crept to the left and past the windows towards what he thought was a door. When he past out of sight of the windows, he stood back up and, after only taking a couple steps, the mechanism to his left rumbled. The hatch in the wall opened and a body tumbled out. He paused for a moment suddenly extremely wary. Sebastian was thankful that there actually was a door. Unfortunately, it was locked. “Shit, it's locked,” he muttered under his breath. Well, where the hell would the keys be..? He hardly finished the thought, when realization hit him. They had to be in that room. “...Fuck.”

As Sebastian crept back past the window, he glanced inside. The sadistic butcher was still distracted. When he reached the doorway, Sebastian rested his left hand on the wall and peered around the corner and into the room. Things were strung up from the ceiling, which he assumed were more bodies, though they looked more like slabs of meat than people. There were dozens of bottles, the contents of which he had no idea, stored on countless shelves. But where were the keys? There was another area that lead behind the shelves. Could they be back there? There was no way he'd be able to get back there though. Looking back to the big man, he grew tense as he stopped his 'work' and started to walk around the concrete table to the area behind the shelves. Then suddenly, something caught his eye, hanging off a hook above the table. With a quick glance to the man, Sebastian carefully crept out into the room as the other man walked into the back room. He had to hurry before he came back.

To protect against the nauseating smell, Sebastian covered his nose and mouth with his hand as he made his way forward. He tried not to look at the body at the table, so instead rotated his attention to the keys to looking through the shelves to keep an eyes on the other man. Carefully, he lifted the keys off of the hook all the while hoping the one for the door was on the key ring. Quickly, but quietly he headed back out of the room. He had to hurry, before he realized the keys were missing. As he past the windows he glanced inside again but didn't see the man. After he got back to the door it didn't take him long to find the right key, and, as it clicked and he pushed open the door, he looked back to the towards the other room for a moment before he stepped inside and up the stairs on the other side.

Sebastian followed the pathway. To his right, he noticed he was walking along an overhang of the room he had seen the sadist in. He kept walking intent on getting out of there. When he was just a few paces away from the door he thought he felt something hit his ankle and immediately after an alarm went off somewhere. Startled, he took a couple steps back and looked around for its source. It was the sound of a chainsaw getting revved to life that got his attention. Sebastian spun around. Behind him stood the sadist with a chainsaw. “Shit!” He swung back around and slammed open the door and dashed down the hall. As he approached the door at the opposite end, he glanced back. How could such a big man keep up as well as he was. Especially while carrying a chainsaw.

Throwing open the door he came into a long area with an open door at the other end. Sebastian barely made it six feet in when he felt a sharp, burning pain in his lower right leg. He let out a cry of pain as he fell and hit the floor and curled in clenching his leg. Looking up the man loomed over him for just a moment before he turned to a sort of machine against the wall. Frantically, Sebastian pulled himself along the floor in an attempt to get away. The big man stepped on the pedal on the machine and a steel gate dropped down from the ceiling behind him, just barely a foot away from Sebastian's feet. As he scrambled to his feet, the lights switched on one by one illuminating the rest of the hall as well as the rotating blades that whirred to life on both sides of the room.

With the rotating blades closing in on him, Sebastian hobbled as fast as he could while staying as close to the center of the hallway as possible. Suddenly, a wall of steel bars dropped down blocking his way. Quickly, he glanced around the area between himself and the bars. There had to be another way out... there. A grate in the floor. Where ever it led would be better than the certain death that awaited him up here. As he opened the grate, he glanced behind him and saw the sadist watching him. Just watching. Turning back around, he dropped down into the hole in the floor with only seconds to spare, as the blades were mere inches away.

Unfortunately where he ended up wasn't much better. The floor was at such a downward slant that it was pretty much a slide. There was a lot of blood, most of it was dried on the floor and on the walls. There were body parts and innards clumped up against the wall at a couple points. Also, there were two more sets of the rotatory blades, both of which Sebastian barely evaded before the flooring beneath him suddenly came to an end and he slid down into a pool of blood. Resurfacing, he gagged and sputtered and tried to wipe the blood from his face though it didn't help much. As he started towards the ladder, Sebastian had a sickening feeling rise up in his stomach. The blood was literally dripping off of him as he wadded waist deep in it, as well as a random assortment of guts and dismembered limbs. He seriously thought he was going to be sick as he climbed with difficulty up the few steps. And the squish sound every time he stepped didn't help.

There was some piping on the wall and ceiling that led who knew where with the only exit from this circular room was a closed door on the opposite side of the pit of bloody death. Water dripped from some of the piping at the walls looked run down. He hobbled around the pit and leaned heavily against the door as he pushed it open. There was an open ended hall in front of him that was about twenty feet in length. He could see a large fan slowly spinning on the wall in the other area and more piping ran along the wall below it. Sebastian barely glanced to the left, which led to a dead end, before heading to the right. A sewer. Of course there's a sewer underneath a freakin' mental hospital. Then again, assuming everything he's gone through so far was in the basement, none of this was normal for the lower levels of any hospital. Once he reached the end of the walkway he was on he stopped. Leaning against the railing he looked around. There was no bridge to cross over all the sewage and to the walkway on the other side. He might have been able to jump it but his injured leg made that possibility all but impossible. Which left his only option to drop down into the sewage and trudge the few feet to get to the ladder that led to the other walkway.

With no other choices he dropped down into the water. A fleeting thought passed; made him wonder if he should try to scrub at his clothes to get the blood out. Instead he hurried out of the mucky water and started limping down the walkway with his hand on the railing to help keep the weight off of his leg. The piping continued on the wall next to him and, a short distance ahead of him, there was a path leading off of the walkway and to a door. He couldn't make out what was on the opposite end since, for some reason, it was misty down there. Though despite the mist, he thought he saw someone slouched down in a chair. After checking the door the path led to Sebastian muttered, “Where's the exit?” as he continued on.

He paused momentarily to check on the man in the wheelchair. Unfortunately, as he suspected, the man was dead. There was a scrap sheet of paper at the mans' feet, which Sebastian picked up and quickly read over.

Beside the locked gate at the far end of the sewer, there is a ladder which would take you to the old ward. If you could make it through there, you would find an elevator leading outside. You would be the one who escaped. You might be the one who survived. -R

So, just keep going in the direction he was heading. A loud noise sounded back from the direction he had come from. Looking back, he didn't see anything. Dropping the note he limped past the man in the chair. At the end of the path there were two locked gates. One to his left and one in front of him. To his right, an open pathway, which he shuffled through to find a few storage units and a ladder. So far the letter has been accurate, so with some luck he'd be out of this hell-hole soon.

Slowly, he started to pull himself up the ladder. It was an exhausting task seeing as he only had use of one of his legs. He was breathing heavy when he finally made it to the top. Leaning against the bars, which were the wall of another room, he took a moment to catch his breath. As he recovered, Sebastian looked around. The room he leaned on the wall of only had a desk with a computer and some paper work as well as a metal book shelf. Thankfully the area he was in had a way out. Limping over to the door, he hit the button next to it and instantly the door slid open. He hobbled down the L shaped hallway and pushed open the door at the end.

The first thing he noticed when he stepped through the door was the large window that he can see another room on the other side of. In the room he was in there was a bed with a mattress and a couple carts. Similar to a hospital room. The only light in the room came from the large window and the open door at his right. Beyond it was a short hallway lined with filing cabinets on one side and an old mattress and bed frame were leaned against the wall on the other. Pushing open the door on the other end, Sebastian found himself in the room he saw through the window earlier.

There was a collection of boxes, a filing cabinet and some lockers. Sebastian was barely in the room when he heard that sadistic man crashing into the room on the other side of the window. Quickly he pushed the door closed behind him and hurried to the other door in the room... only to find it locked. “Gotta hide,” he practically whispered as he glanced around the room searching for a place he could likely hide at. There was only one liable place that he could fit in and at first he didn't want to, but seeing as he had no other options, since he couldn't go back the way he came, he pulled open the door to the full sized locker next to the locked door and ducked inside.

Sebastian leaned all his weight on his left leg as he stood, essentially trapped, listening to the crazed man crash about in the hallway before he banged against the door. For just a second he thought, maybe he couldn't break through. Maybe he was safe. Those thoughts were all but thrown from his mind as the door crashed in the room hitting the light hanging from the ceiling. Jerking back, Sebastian bumped the back of the locker than clamped a hand over his mouth. He watched him stalk about the room, chainsaw revving, through the vent in the locker. This lasted maybe a minute before the sadist swung the chainsaw in a fit of rage breaking stuff in the room before barreling through the locked door next to Sebastian's hiding spot.

Slowly, he moved his hand from his mouth and clambered out of the locker. He did a quick once over the room. The boxes that were stacked in the corner were now broken as well as the hefty dent in one of the filing cabinets. Going back wouldn't get him to an exit. No matter how much he didn't want to follow after the sadistic man, it was the only direction he could go. Turning, Sebastian hobbled through the doorway.

The door lay on the floor a couple feet in front of the doorway. In front of him a hallway laid before him. At the far end there were more lockers and the hall turned to the left. Next to him were windows looking into the room the sadist was in, slowly walking away from him as he looked about the room, likely looking for him. Cautiously, he made his way forward looking through the window, both to keep an eye on the man as well as trying to find an exit. Just as Sebastian reached the entryway, the man turned around.

He slouched down and leaned against the wall hoping he was out of sight. There were different options laid out in front of him and he had to think fast. Which way was he going to go? Either way was a risk. Should he chance the hallway and hope that didn't lead him to a dead-end? Or should he attempt going through the room to the one beyond it? There was a stack of boxes he could hide behind if he decided on that option but he would still have to find a way past the sadist. He grew tense as he heard him come closer. A decision had to be made. Risking a glance around the corner showed the sadist slowly making his way back to the other side of the room. It was now or never.

With one final glance down the hall, Sebastian, with a hand bracing him against the wall, hobbled into the room. Ducking behind the stack of boxes he almost kicked a glass bottle. Resting his hand against one of the boxes, he bent down to pick it up. It was a slim chance but if he could use it to divert attention away from him he might be able to get away. He could hear him on the other side of the boxes. Taking a deep breath, Sebastian threw the bottle out into the hallway and watched it shatter. And to his relief, and surprise, the sadist turned and charged into the hall.

Quickly, Sebastian hobbled out from behind his hiding spot and towards the other room. He didn't dare look back. There were windows looking in this room as well so he had to try to maneuver his way through the medical clutter and boxes while ducking and slouching to stay out of sight. Just as he was exiting the room on the other side he heard the sound of the chainsaw getting closer. As he entered the short hall he could hear boxes being broken inside the room. He had to hurry. With some luck he'd waste time searching for him.

Pushing open the door he found, Sebastian winced hoping the whine of the door wouldn't be heard. He took a second to close it behind him. The room wasn't large and seeing as it had a desk with paperwork scattered across it, it could have been a type of office. He made his way to the door across from him. The revving of the chainsaw could barely be heard. Even so he grimaced as the door creaked as he pushed it open. The hallway was a cluttered mess of wheelchairs with a stretcher or two. Sebastian tried to keep quiet as he hobbled down the hall. He didn't get very far when the door behind him was suddenly kicked open and clear off its hinges.

Sebastian didn't dare look back as he was filled with panic. “Oh shit!” He pushed past one of the wheelchairs and staggered onward. The sound of the teeth of the chainsaw slamming into the metal on the wheelchairs gave him the tiniest bit of hope that he'd make it. There was only a stretcher blocking his path which he attempted to climb over top of only to topple off the other side. The elevator door slid open as he managed to scramble to his feet and hurried those last few yards to the elevator.

Just as he reached the doorway of the elevator, he practically threw himself inside. He pushed himself against the wall furthest from the door and held his breathe was he watched the big man swing his chainsaw... only to crash its roaring teeth into the steel bars of the elevators door that closed mere seconds before. As the elevator rose the sounds from the man and his chainsaw disappeared, and only then did Sebastian release the breathe he held.

He'd seen and experienced some messed up things during his career, but this, this was seriously fucked up. Who was the psycho-path? But more importantly, what the hell was going on around here. Sebastian pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket but crumpled and discarded it with a scoff when he realized it was empty. This stress was going to kill him, if his lifestyle didn't first.

As he sat there, he finally noticed the droplets of blood on the floor. That was probably how the sadist was able to find him. Though maybe that was giving him too much credit. At this point he didn't really care too much. He was in pain and just wanted to get out of this hellhole and to a hospital.

The elevator seemed to go on forever. After he recouped a bit, he looked up at the bar above his head and, reaching up with his left hand, struggled as he got to his feet. He leaned back against the bar once he was standing while putting as little weight on his right leg as possible. Finally, the elevator stopped with a ding. As the door slid open, Sebastian noticed he was back to something normal. Before him lay a hallway of the hospital. The only light came from the series of windows on the wall to his right. There were a couple abandoned wheelchairs and from the look of it three bodies. Slowly, he made his way down the hall towards the double doors that sat ajar at the opposite side. As he got a bit closer to the first body he realized they wore the KPD uniform. Wait, was... was this the same hall he saw on the live feed monitor? He looked around for a security camera when suddenly the ground shook beneath him and he had to fight to keep his balance. Dust and bits of dry wall fell from the ceiling. What ever it was that caused that, whether it was an earthquake or something else, Sebastian knew he had to get out of here.

He hurried to the door only to stumble and almost biffed it into the wall as the building shook again. Instead he caught himself on the wall before he made a beeline for the door hitting it open with his left shoulder. Sebastian found himself back in the lobby and shot a quick glance to his right and spotted the front door. He grimaced as he ran for the door, pausing only to pull them open, before he stepped outside and stopped in his tracks. Despite the rain stopping, there was smoke and fire rising from the a few buildings. There was a loud rumble to his left and he turned only to watch in shock as one of the buildings started to collapse. He was too shocked to truly process a coherent thought on the matter.

Suddenly, the siren from an ambulance belonging to the hospital sounded. It was brief, it's sole purpose was probably to just get his attention. Sebastian took a couple hobbled steps forward. The ambulance backed up hitting, and pushing a police car out of the way, and coming to a stop just before the deep crater in the road. “Detective!” Recognition and relieve crossed his face as he recognized Connellys' voice over the loud speaker. “Get in! Get in!”

The ground shook again and he looked up just in time to see all the windows above him shatter. He spun back around and bounded down the stairs pushing off with his left leg... and almost toppled down the remaining few steps when he dropped all his weight on his injured leg. With a sharp breath he continued towards the ambulance, this time however, much more aware of how much pressure he put on his leg. The ground shook again, though not bad enough to throw him off his feet. The crater, however, was only growing in size. Connelly slammed his foot on the gas pedal in his attempt to free the vehicles back tires from the couple inch drop that that part of the road fell.

Sebastian barely managed to grab hold of the door via the opened window as the ambulance freed itself. After running a few steps along side it, he managed to heave himself inside the moving vehicle and fell into the passenger seat in a disheveled mess. He righted himself just moments before Connelly slammed through the gate leading back out onto the main road. Sebastian braced himself on the dashboard as he was roughly bounced around. The people in the back seemed to have it worse than he did as he heard them cry out. Glancing back through the window to see who was back there, be spotted three people. Kidman, the doctor Joseph found disoriented in the control room and lastly a patient from the hospital. “Hey,” Sebastian turned back to Connelly. “Where's Joseph?”

“Man, I'm sorry but he never came out. I'da waited but...” Connelly was stressed, that was obvious enough, and just focused on the road in front of him. 'Joseph...' Sebastian glanced down at his leg. It throbbed and hurt like hell. He was going to have to get that checked out and soon. There was a loud rumbling. “Shit... There's no going back...” Looking behind them out the window, Sebastian saw the road falling out behind them. That wasn't good. Looking back out though the windshield, he braced himself against the dash again as he saw some construction equipment collapsing.

With a couple quick minute decisions, Connelly managed to keep them alive and turned onto another road. Finally, both Sebastian and Connelly relaxed a bit. And Sebastian even leaned back into his seat a bit and sighed with relief. ...Wait a minute. Were... the buildings shifting? Like the ground on one side was moving while it stayed stationary on theirs. “Shit...” he muttered with disbelief. This was getting ridiculous. But Connelly didn't stop, if anything he picked up speed. They barely made it in time as they sped through the gap that was just big enough for them to fit. Once through, Connelly glanced back and, turned back to the road, sighed and visually relaxed. After a couple minutes, he slowed down to a more reasonable speed.

When they put some distance between them and the craziness they just experienced, Sebastian attempted to contact dispatch. But all he got was some static. “Dammit,” he muttered, as he replaced the transmission radio. “Are we cut off from everyone?”

“Everyone must be dead...” Sebastian looked over at Connelly. That was a pretty pessimistic of him. Though realized soon enough that with all the chaos that's been going on he might not be far off with his statement.

Whatever the case, the best thing he could do right now was focus on what was in front of him. Focus on what he could do. Sebastian pressed the button for the speaker and looked to the back. “Everyone alright back there?”

Kidman, who was crouched down by the other two, turned to face the front. “Just a few bumps, we're fine.”

The patient was staring down to the floor, while the doctor had his hands on the younger mans shoulders. Turning to face Sebastian as well, the doctor told him, “We will be once we're far away...” While he said this the young patient was repeating the word 'fine'.

Turning back to face the front, Sebastian told them, “A little further and we'll be fine...” A moment later he glanced back at them in the rearview and saw a man in a dirty white cloak looming over them. Startled and concerned, he twisted around to look back through the window but the man was gone. A bit of static sounded from the transmission radio and the vehicle swerved and grazed the wall of the tunnel they were driving through. Sebastian grunted as he barely stopped his head from hitting the dash. Looking over at Connelly, he jerked back away from him. He watched in shocked horror as boils appeared all over his face. His veins became more prominent and deep red. Blood dripped from his nose. And the sounds he made... groans and wheezes, like he had difficulty breathing.

Suddenly, Kidman slammed her hands on the window startling Sebastian. Quickly, he looked over. “Look out!” she shouted. Looking back out the windshield, he saw the end of the road. The last thing he heard was the mental patient's muffled voice saying 'fall' before the ambulance plummeted over the cliffs edge.

#The Evil Within #Sebastian Castellanos #Juli Kidman #Joseph Oda #Oscar Connelly #the sadist #Willow's writing

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astrodances · 6 years ago

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Early Presents

FF.net link || AO3 link

Well well well, it looks like everyone is posting their presents early for @ducktalessecretsanta2018, eh? :D Puns aside, I’d like to wish a very, very happy holidays to @epos-da-cookie! ‘Tis I, your secret santa! I may have taken some liberties with your request and combined it with the love of skeletons that I noticed on your blog. I won’t say much more than that, except that this is basically some Webby + triplets fluffy bonding combined with a late-night mystery adventure, mainly from Webby’s POV. Enjoy, my friend!

“SLEEPOVER!”

“Sleepover? Who’s coming over?”

“No one, it’s just gonna be us!”

Three sets of skeptical eyes landed on Webby. The boys had been having a rather peaceful, lazy evening in their shared room when she’d burst in with the announcement.

“Isn’t that...basically what we do every night?” Huey questioned, his finger marking his spot in his Junior Woodchucks' Guidebook while he shrugged his other hand in the air.

"Maybe what you guys do," Webby retorted, before bringing her hand up to motion to herself. "But I'm in my own separate room by the end of the night. So come on! Granny said that as long as we stay away from the Christmas tree and the decorations, we can take over pretty much the entire downstairs!" She clapped her hands twice as if to say, "Get to it!" then raced out of view from the doorway.

There was silence as the triplets looked at each other from across the room–Huey from where he'd been reading on his bed to Louie, who'd been skimming over the Ottoman Empire website at their desk, to Dewey, who'd been hunched over a pile of paper all day with a set of markers working on who-knows-what. After a second, they all shrugged one-by-one, signifying their willingness to join in on Webby's fun. It's not like they were going to do anything else that night.

Within minutes, the three of them were standing in the entryway to the living room downstairs, their jaws dropped and their willingness transformed into something way beyond eagerness. A buffet table of snacks and sodas lined the far wall besides an old-fashioned popcorn machine, and at least three stacks of movies and video games rested in between the four bean bags that had mysteriously replaced the couch. There was some epic music seemingly pouring into every downstairs room, and nestled on top of each bean bag was a new 7800-series dart blaster–the latest and greatest in the line.

"Merry early Christmas!" Webby proclaimed as she squeezed in between the boys, wrapping her arms as far as she could around their shoulders.

"Webby, what is all this?" Dewey asked in as much awe as he could manage, as his face was squished against Louie's from Webby's sudden hug.

"An early Christmas present from Granny and me!" With a final squeeze, she let them go and walked forward into the room, raising her arms as she spun about. "Since Uncle Scrooge is out at some holiday party tonight, and you guys didn't have any plans tonight anyway, Granny helped me put together the ultimate sleepover so we could test these bad boys out," she explained, patting her own dart blaster.

The triplets ran excitedly into the room, and together the four of them opened up their dart blasters. Webby was the first to finish setting hers up, her hands swiftly loading each dart with the grace of a seasoned expert. As she turned around to start explaining the details of the evening, her blaster cradled in a carrying position, she was surprised to have the air knocked out of her as Huey, Dewey, and Louie tackled her into a group hug, all four of them landing on her bean bag from the momentum.

"Thank you, Webby," Dewey said, with Huey and Louie echoing his sentiment.

After the initial shock wore off, Webby returned the hug with an internal squeal of glee. This moment alone made the past week of planning and secret-keeping worth it, and she savored each second of it.

As they all stood back up and grabbed their blasters, Louie asked, "So, what's the plan?"

Webby tilted her head forward, a sinister grin winding its way onto her face. "The plan, dear Louie, is to survive." She would've chuckled at the way Louie's face drained of color, had she not been trying to keep up her serious demeanor. "The stakes? Last duck standing gets to choose the first movie we watch and the first video game we play. The rules? Only to stay away from Uncle Scrooge's rooms and the Christmas decorations. Otherwise, everything inside and outside on the first floor is fair game. No teams, and no safe zones."

Before any of them could protest the lack of safe zones, she continued. "You have until the end of the next song to establish a base camp as your starting point. After that, it's–" Here, she cocked her blaster for dramatic effect. "–game on. GO!"

She sprinted out of the living room, Louie and Dewey hot on her tail while Huey went in the other direction. Louie split off in his own direction after the foyer, and Dewey in his after the first hallway.

Webby already knew where her base camp was going to be; she'd had it scouted out for three days now. Deep in the depths of Scrooge's Wing of Secr-garage was a particular configuration of old storage boxes that, to her surprise, had a pocket of space between them, creating a natural fort that was easy enough for her to flip into, but virtually undetectable to the passing eye from the outside. Base camps were not immune to open fire, but with this location, she had nothing to fear in regards to that.

After checking her base over, Webby paced outside it, waiting for the song thumping through the speakers to end before she raced off, eager to put distance between herself and her base before anyone could find her near it. And eager to find her first victim.

Aside from the extra adrenaline rush, that was one thing to be said about the music: it gave everyone an equal tactical advantage. No one could hear each other coming, unless they made a loud noise. It heightened the senses. It heightened the element of surprise.

Still, Webby moved as deftly as possible throughout the mansion, her feet lighter than feathers as she peeked out from corners before somersaulting behind furniture. She made it all the way back to the hallway outside the foyer before she caught any movement: a flash of green hoodie heading for the back door.

"Oh no you don't," she whispered to herself.

In one quick motion, she leapt out from her hiding spot behind an end table and shot Louie with two darts, one to each shoulder blade. He stumbled to the ground out of surprise, and Webby quickly picked up her darts before leaping over him, reaching the back door first. But before she could open the door, a single dart flew past her face and stuck to the glass pane. She barely saw Dewey's reflection in it as she yanked the door open and bounded down the steps to the backyard.

The moon was full and bright up above, providing ample lighting to see, but not necessarily be seen. It made the light dusting of snow on the ground look ethereal, like a true winter wonderland. The three ducks made their way outside and ran about without a care in the world, with Huey soon joining them once he realized where they were. They were all still in it to win it as they ducked behind trees and dodged darts with leaps behind shrubbery, but the cold air added a sense of wonder and joy to the game, a sense that left them laughing and taunting each other between shots.

They were the Duck family, and the night was theirs.

Until Huey tripped inexplicably, that is.

His sharp cry of pain led Webby to believe that one of his brothers had gotten in a really good shot, but when she reached the row of bushes he was hidden behind to assess the situation (and possibly gain a few more points), she saw no one but him, and no stray darts either. Only Huey wincing as he rubbed his leg, and the end of a bone sticking out of the ground.

All thoughts of the game immediately abandoned, Webby immediately knelt down beside Huey and called out for Dewey and Louie to join them. The other two rounded into view with blasters blazing, but Webby simply batted the darts away until they took in the situation.

"Huey! Are you okay?" Dewey asked as he and his brother joined the other two on the ground.

Louie looked between Huey and the bone. "What happened?"

After a moment to gather himself, Huey opened his eyes and nodded towards the bone. "I was just running and...I tripped on that." He moved his hands to reveal a scraped-up knee that was sure to bruise. "I'll be fine, but that is just plain creepy."

Webby left his side to inspect the bone. The end was big and knobby, and the rest of it seemed to extend far into the ground. A femur, if she were to guess at first glance. She knelt down and dug away at the dirt surrounding it, then, with some wiggling and prying, she pulled it clean from the ground. Yep, it was a femur alright.

"Guys, look!" she exclaimed as she turned back to the boys with the bone resting in her palms. Louie immediately flinched back, appalled by the sudden presence of an unearthed limb in his face.

"What the quack was that doing there?" Dewey questioned as he helped Huey sit up straighter.

Webby turned the bone over in her hands. "I don't know, but look: the part that was underground is covered in a pretty thick layer of dried mud. It must've been there for years. Maybe even decades."

"Uh...maybe we should show this to Mrs. Beakley?" Louie suggested.

"Uh-uh, we need to investigate this. Look!" She pointed towards the ground a few feet away from them. "Footprints."

Indeed, there beneath the light layer of snow that had gathered were a set of footprints, hardened by time and an average, unassuming size. They trailed towards the bone's resting place from who knew where on Scrooge's estate.

Webby slid a sly smile towards the triplets. "Boys, I believe our plans for the evening just changed."

"Aw, but I was winning the game!" Dewey lamented, his chin dropping to his chest in begrudging forfeit as the other three rolled their eyes at him.

After Huey insisted that he would be okay long enough for a quick adventure, the group got up and began backtracking the prints. They traveled further and further into the woods behind McDuck Manor, traversing slopes and tree trunks alike. They had all brought their dart blasters along, just in case, with Webby carrying hers in one hand and the femur in the other.

Eventually, the tracks led them to a thicket of bushes near the corner of the property line, with two trees towering in front like sentinels. The branches of the bushes looked quite old and worn out, with no foliage to be seen anywhere. It was as if Scrooge's groundskeeper hadn't touched this area in ages.

The tracks disappeared beneath the wood, and Webby crept forward to poke away at some of the branches with the bone to see where they led. To the group's surprise, they found a wooden cellar door. Its handles were weathered with rust and a splintered hole had been punched through the center of it.

"Riiiight, so...get Beakley now?" Louie insisted again, looking hopefully between his siblings, only to be disappointed when they shushed him and kept moving forward to enter the cellar. "Ugh, fine. But I so get to choose the first movie then when we get back."

"No, you don't," Dewey answered without missing a beat, leaving Louie to groan in protest.

One of the new features that made the 7800 blasters so brilliant was the addition of a 2-mode targeting light–one normal light mode, one night-vision mode. The four of them each turned on the normal light on their blaster once they realized there was absolutely no light in the cellar aside from the moonlight pouring in from above.

What the light revealed left chills running down their spines.

The cellar looked like a cross between a medieval dungeon and a vampire's lair. The walls were made of stone and a small hallway followed from the bottom of the stairs, with two heavy wooden doors lining the walls on either side, and a single door at the very end of the hallway. Aside from an old table with a cabinet on top of it next to the stairs, there was nothing but cobwebs and doors.

"This place looks like it was built before Scrooge got here," Huey observed, swiping a finger across the layer of dust on the table.

"All it's missing are the torches," Louie joked.

Webby ignored them both. Something felt off about this place, aside from the obvious. Surely she would've stumbled across it herself in all the years she had lived here, if not some sort of record of it in the archives. Did Scrooge even know about this place? Did her Granny? Or Duckworth?

"I think we should split up," she declared amid a chorus of "huh?!" and "are you crazy?" from the boys. She turned toward them, shaking her head. "Just for a minute. We'll each take a room along the hallway and see what's in them, and whoever finishes first can start in on the room at the end. We can get out of here quicker that way."

The three of them looked dubiously between each other before nodding one by one in reluctant agreement.

With the plan in place, they each took a door: Webby and Dewey the doors to the immediate left and right of the door at the end, and Huey and Louie the doors closer to the staircase.

Webby's door took some extra pushing to get it to open, but she eventually did, immediately bringing her blaster and the bone up to ward off any sudden danger. Yet a cursory glance around the room revealed nothing of interest. It was small, and almost looked like a storage shed. There was a bench off to one side, and a half-empty wall of tools on the far side. Nothing more than some tools, some rope, some rusty hedge clippers. Maybe this used to be Scrooge's gardener's tool shed in the early days of McDuck Manor, simply abandoned to sands of time?

A scream pierced through Webby's thoughts, and she raced out of the room to find Dewey and Huey looking back frantically at her, before they all turned towards the room at the end of the hall, its door wide open.

"LOUIE!"

The three of them rushed inside the final room, nearly tripping over each other as they waved the lights on their blasters around until they landed on Louie, who was curled up in a catatonic ball next to the door, his face frozen in sheer terror.

"What's wrong?" Huey asked him as he dropped to his side. He got no response, which prompted Webby and Dewey to look around the room with their blasters for the answer.

Webby was the first to find it.

"Uh, guys?"

Dewey gathered by her side and shined his light alongside hers so Huey could see it as well.

There, leaning against the opposite wall with its limbs sprawled out on the ground, was a duck's skeleton. Its entire left leg was missing from the hip down, and Webby gasped in shock as she dropped the femur in her hand with a thud.

The skeleton had a snapped noose hanging loosely around its neck, and it was dressed. Derby hat, brown coat, and red sweater. Cracked spectacles. Faded and decayed, but unmistakable.

No one dared to read the marker above the remains out loud, yet neither source of light could seem to stray away from it:

HERE RESTS SCROOGE MCDUCK 1867 - 1967

"Guys, h-have we been living with...a ghost?"

#ducktalessecretsanta2018 #Ducktales #Ducktales 2017 #epos-da-cookie #my fanfics #Webby Vanderquack #Huey Duck #Dewey Duck #Louie Duck #Bentina Beakley #Scrooge McDuck #skeleton mystery abound #platonic bonding abound #all in all fun times ^_^#cliffhanger

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especially-heinous-ada · 7 years ago

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A Police Gala pt. 3

(photo is of the reader’s TV room) royalty free image found at https://www.pexels.com/photo/apartment-ceiling-chair-decoration-276653/

After some disappointment and struggle (my original was lost after my laptop failed), I have managed to re-write part three of the reader x Barba series. I just want to say thank you, and I’m glad that people seem to be enjoying it so far! I hope you enjoy part three, as well. There is some smut here for you, but it’s not what you think haha.

If you haven’t already, please read part one and part two.

Rafael set off down the street at a leisurely pace. He wasn’t exactly in a hurry to return to his empty apartment and be alone after having spent last few hours in pleasant company. He watched the water spray out from under his footsteps as he walked. For a moment, he debated on stopping for a nightcap, but decided against it. His sopping wet suit clung to his body in a rather unpleasant manner as he walked. Luckily, it wasn’t too far a distance from your apartment to his. He found it an ironic twist of fate that you lived so close together, were both involved with law enforcement, and yet you still had no idea the other existed until now. It wasn’t long before he reached his apartment building. He stopped underneath the building’s awning, closing his umbrella and giving it a hearty shake to slough off as much rain as possible before going inside.

“Good evening, Giles.” He greeted the older doorman

“Good evening, Mr. Barba.” The man replied jovially. “Had a rough night?”

“Actually, it was quite lovely. Until this.” Rafael motioned to his entire body, in its soaking wet state. “It’s alright, though. It perked up at the end.” Giles nodded and considered Rafael’s words for a moment before responding.

“Well, have a good night. Take care not to catch cold.” He said. He seemed like he would ask more, but didn’t. Rafael wondered why, but supposed he, himself, was probably to blame for that. The older man was quite pleasant and Rafael enjoyed the occasional conversation with him, but he rarely had time to spare more than a line or two. He was always in a rush to get to the office in the morning and on the brink of exhaustion when he returned home at night.

He entered the elevator and pressed the button to ride up to the top floor, which was split between two large suites, his and that of his neighbor—an eccentric young tech guru. He rarely saw his new neighbor, and they never exchanged more than a nod of acknowledgement. That was fine with him. He suspected they didn’t have anything in common, anyway. A large group of people stood in the hallway outside their doors. Another party? Rafael groaned and rolled his eyes. As he got out of the elevator, the group piled in. He wasted no time going straight to his door, opening the lock and ducking inside.

He put his umbrella in its holder by the door and slipped off his shoes, feeling too lazy to take care of them properly. He immediately crossed the apartment over to his bedroom, eager to change into something warm and dry. Once in his bedroom, he strips off his suit and hangs it on a rack to dry. He swaps out his underwear for a fresh pair and wonders whether it’s worth it to put pajamas on. He decides it’s not and lays down in bed. He mentally revisits his goodbye with you from earlier tonight and smiles.

Suddenly, he sits up and throws the covers off himself. He heads over to the rack where his suit jacket is hanging and slides his fingers into breast pocket carefully, taking the paper out slowly to avoid ripping it. He wanted to put your number in his contacts before he forgot. He looks down at it and frowns. The ink is smudged, making the phone number illegible. He sighs.

He tried to think of another way to contact you, but he had none. He knew that rich people like their privacy, so it was extremely difficult to try and contact them directly. He couldn’t just show up your apartment like a stalker. That was a sure fire way to guarantee you’d get a restraining order against him. He sat down, feeling defeated, thinking maybe he was destined to be alone.

I finally found an amazing woman, who’s interested in me, gives me her number and tells me to call her, and this happens.

He sighs again and climbs under the covers, thinking of the woman that he’s sure he’s lost his chance with.

God, she’s amazing. She’s intelligent, funny, talented, intriguing, successful, and sexy as hell. His mind turns back to the images from your lingerie photo shoot. He groans, feeling emotionally and sexually frustrated. At least he can solve one of those problems tonight, he thinks as he slips one hand underneath the covers.

Your breath is quick and jagged. What are you doing to me, Rafael Barba? You think. You’d thought that if you could get some release, you could relax, but neither your hands nor your toys could satiate you when you thought of him. And you couldn’t stop thinking of him. You turned onto your side, peering at the clock on your bedside table. It read 12:00 A.M.

You groaned and rolled out of bed, not bothering to put on pants because you knew you were alone in your apartment. You crossed over into the kitchen and pulled out a fresh bottle of wine from your wine cooler. You then grab a corkscrew from a nearby drawer and pop the bottle open. Tossing the corkscrew into the sink, you take a big gulp from the bottle and cross over into your TV room, sinking down onto your white leather couch. If some one-on-one time won’t take your mind off of him, maybe alcohol and late night television will.

You grab the remote and turn on the television.

“Today, the verdict came back in the trial of the “Date night ripper”of Manhattan.” At the conclusion of the trial, the jury returned a guilty verdict on twelve counts, including multiple counts of rape, murder, and mutilation of a corpse—”

“Sick son of a bitch.” You say, taking another large gulp of wine.

“The prosecutor at the head of the trial had this to say.” The live video from the news station cut to a pre-recorded interview, which a caption indicated had been filmed earlier that day. Descending the steps of the courthouse, you see none other than Rafael Barba. You groan. Another gulp of wine.

“Of course, we feel really good about the verdict. We believe the jury ruled correctly. We’re glad that the citizens of New York can sleep a little easier tonight knowing that this man will not be roaming the streets—” He goes on to give a generic speech about how justice was served, etc. A typical speech , likely to be given by any A.D.A. who just won a case. However, that’s the only typical thing about him in that interview. His hair was perfectly coiffed and he wore a light grey suit with a peach checked dress shirt and baby blue matching tie and pocket square. You were impressed by his ability to dress himself so fashionably.

You groan out of frustration and click the power button on the remote. The television had not helped. Standing up, you cross the room to the table by your entryway, where you had left your phone earlier in your rush to get to your bedroom. You search your phone contacts to find someone tolerable enough to help you with this problem, as you obviously can’t handle it on your own.

“Hello, Damian. I miss you.” You purr as the handsome man answers your call. “How soon can you get here?”

Damian arrived outside the door of your penthouse suite in 20 mintues flat. You open the door and pull him inside, taking him directly to the bedroom. You waste no time pulling him toward the bed and stripping down to nothing. Damian was a model you used to work with. The two of you never discussed the possibility of being in a relationship. He’s not the kind to settle down with, but you can count on him to keep you company on the long, lonely nights. Though you didn’t need the stimulation, you needed something to distract you from Rafael. Very badly.

You lay back on the bed and he positions himself between your legs. You moan softly as he kisses you, starting with your lips, then trailing down your body until he starts to lick the tender skin of your inner thigh. He shifts up and releases a hot breath on your renewed arousal and you groan. Finally, he takes you in his mouth and starts to suck. That’s right. Forget about Rafael. Focus on Damian. He switches from sucking to licking. Yes. Damian. Damian is quite good with his mouth. Being honest, this was your favorite part of the nights you spent together.

You run your fingers through his hair as he speeds up his rhythm. Your mind suddenly flashes to the image of Rafael’s perfectly coiffed hair from on the television interview and you can’t help but wonder how it would feel in your hands, with his head between your legs instead of Damian’s. The imagery intensifies your arousal. You’re supposed to be forgetting about him. Frustrated, you let out a low growl. Damian misreads the noise as one of pleasure. He lifts his head up to look at you.

“Ay, you’ve never made that noise for me before, mami.” He says with a cocky grin. You recognize that grin. You’ve seen it before—on Rafael’s face. Frustrated once more, you take Damian by the back of the head to direct him back to your center. He gladly returns to his previous task and takes you in his mouth, licking and sucking anew. Your breathing quickens. You try hard to think about something, anything, other than Rafael Barba as you feel the familiar pressure grow.

“Come for me, mami.” Damian says. “Come for me.” After resisting for a few more moments, you finally obeyed and allowed yourself to submit to your release. Waves of heat crashed over you and you felt dizzy. As you let the feeling overtake you, you panted and moaned and muttered something, over and over like a prayer. In the fervor of it all, you’re not sure what you said, and you don’t care to remember. You slide away from Damian and put an arm over your face, trying to steady your breathing as you start to come down from your high.

“Who’s Rafael?”

You uncover your face and bolt upright.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

“You said Rafael when you came, not my name. So who is he and why is he not here with you, instead of me? Kinda messed up to fuck a guy when you’re thinking about someone else.” Damian said, obviously pissed. Not that you blamed him. After all, you had just said another man’s name in bed with him.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for wasting your time, Damian. You didn’t even get a chance to get naked.” You apologize. “You should probably go. I can pay your cab fare—”

“Nah, that’s fine.” He says. Then he thinks for a moment. “On second thought, can I have the rest of that wine?” He asks, pointing to the bottle on your bedside table. You agree with a nod. It’s the least you can do for using him like that, you think, feeling guilty. He picked it up and took a big swig.

“Good luck with that Rafael dude.” He says before crossing the room and walking out the door.

“Bye, Damian.” You call after him sheepishly as you listen to him make his exit and close your front door behind him.

You wake up the next morning, determined to do something about this situation. You couldn’t keep obsessing over a man you spent one night with and didn’t even fuck. To be quite frank, it terrified you how quickly Rafael Barba had become such a large part of your thoughts. It had only been three nights since your encounter. But he promised he would call. You were irritated that he dared to lie to your face. You didn’t know what you wanted—for him to apologize and ask you on a date, or for the opportunity to tell him off and kick him in los juevos. Whatever happened, you needed closure.

Since he was an attorney, you knew exactly where he spent most of his time. Luckily, you were familiar with the DA’s office, having toured it with the DA himself when you were a potential donor for his re-election campaign earlier that year. You took your time getting dressed, styling your hair and applying your makeup. You wanted to make sure he knew what he had been missing out on for the better part of that week. When you were finished, you looked yourself over in the mirror with a grin before heading out the door. Rafael Barba wouldn’t know what hit him.

#reader x barba #fic #svu #drama #smut #rafael barba #police gala #part three

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scribbles-by-kate · 7 years ago

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A Girlfriend for Christmas - Chapter One

Neal never thought his mother would take his invitation to come for Christmas seriously, but she did. Having made things awkward, he proceeds to make them even more awkward by telling a lie about his friend Belle, also staying for Christmas, and his father, but can a lie become the truth?

Think this will be about five chapters. It'll end up an E rating, but it's general up until about the midpoint of chapter four.

A Girlfriend for Christmas

Chapter One

The place was beautiful. Belle gasped as the house came into view. Neal had called it the cabin, but it was really a rather large, well-kept house, sitting right on the lake front. The only thing cabin-like about it was that it was built of wood and stone. It reminded her more of a ski lodge, though, than a forest cabin.

'It's lovely, Neal,' she said.

'Grandpa says the lake should be frozen enough to skate on,' Henry informed her.

'That sounds amazing,' she said. 'Lucky I brought my skates.'

Neal and his family had invited her to spend Christmas with them here. She didn't have family around, and Ariel and Eric, whom she usually spent Christmas with, were away for the holidays this year, so she'd been at a loose end until Neal and Emma invited her to come with them.

At first she'd demurred. 'I don't want to put your father out,' she'd said to Neal. It was his house, and he would be there too.

Neal had waved her off. 'Papa will kill me if he finds out I left you alone on Christmas,' he'd said. 'You and he know each other. You get along, right?'

Yes, they did, very well, but Belle had insisted he call his father then and there to check that it was ok that she join them. Neal had done as she asked and then smiled and handed the phone to her after talking to his father for a few moments.

'Wants to talk to you,' he'd said.

'Belle, do come,' Tristan Gold had said. 'Please, it'll be lovely to see you. Say yes.'

So she had, and now she was here, the day before Christmas Eve, climbing out of the car in the crisp air, the forest and the water and the house in her eyeline, and then the door opened and Tristan Gold appeared.

He was not a tall man, but he commanded attention. He was smart and shrewd, the best negotiator in the business, she'd read. He was famous. The deal maker, they called him, and, indeed, he must be good at it, because it had gotten him this lovely house, along with a house in Boston and an apartment in New York. He probably had property in other cities too. He was a very wealthy man anyway.

He smiled now as Henry ran to him. He loved his family. Belle had known him for a year or so, since Neal brought him along to a library fundraiser, and she'd seen him with his son and grandson several times over that time. As busy as he was with his work, he'd drop everything for his family. He'd raised Neal practically by himself, and helped out a lot when Neal and Emma found themselves young parents. Family came first for him.

He'd also been kind to her. He'd made a very generous donation to the library the night they met, and every time they'd met since, he'd shown an interest in her, chatted to her about books and art and music. They had a lot in common, and she liked him very much.

She found him very easy on the eye too. He had a lovely smile, warm brown eyes, and lovely silky-looking hair. He'd actually cut it recently, and it had taken a bit of getting used to. She had liked it when he wore it to his collar, but she found she also liked the way it curled now, and it was still long enough to bury fingers in in intimate moments.

Belle blushed at that thought, but at least she could blame her red cheeks on the cold. She really shouldn't be thinking thoughts like that about him, but he made it very difficult not to. Neal would kill her if he knew she thought this way about his father.

She smiled as Neal hugged his father now. They were very close. While things were tense with his mother, Neal had a wonderful relationship with his father.

'Emma.' he greeted now. 'How lovely.' And he hugged his daughter-in-law.

Then he spotted Belle. His smile was warm and welcoming.

'Belle, you came, I'm so glad.'

'Hello, Tristan. What a beautiful place you have here,' she enthused. 'Merry Christmas.'

He hugged her. 'Merry Christmas, Belle,' he murmured. And as soon as he hugged her, Gold knew he'd be thinking about doing just that, and more than that, for the entire holiday.

Belle was gorgeous. She was also smart and sweet and kind. Neal had introduced them last year, and, before the night was over, he'd had the thought that he'd love to ask her out, but she surely had better options in her own age range, so he didn't. A year later, and here she was, staying for Christmas, and he was even more smitten than he had been a year ago.

'Come on in and get warm,' he invited. 'There's a nice fire going, and there's hot chocolate ready, with cinnamon for grating for those who like it with cinnamon.'

'Awesome, thanks, Papa,' Neal said, heading towards the door.

'Hold on, son, you get to help me with the bags first,' Gold called.

'Right, forgot,' Neal said, turning around.

Gold rolled his eyes and Belle saw and giggled. He smiled and so did she.

Neal smirked as they stared at each other. They were so obviously into each other. If something hadn't happened by tomorrow, he was going to lock them in a room until they admitted their feelings for each other.

'I can take my bag in,' Belle said.

'Absolutely not,' Gold returned. 'You're a guest, Belle. We'll be in in a minute.'

She smiled, relenting. 'Why thank you,' she said, and skipped after Emma and Henry.

The interior was as lovely as the exterior. The entryway was light and airy, with a rose window high up and exposed beams to add to the rustic feel. The living space was open and light too, with a lovely fireplace and views of the lake and the forest. The dining area flowed through to the kitchen at the back, overlooking the lake, and she guessed that the bedrooms upstairs overlooked the lake also.

A Christmas tree stood bare in the living room, boxes of ornaments sitting beside it, waiting for the Golds to decorate it. Henry had told her it was a tradition that they all decorated the tree together. There were already decorations hung in the living room, and up along the stairs. She guessed that Tristan had been busy all day, getting everything ready for his family.

How lovely, she thought, as she took off her coat and scarf, and hung them on the coat stand. Such a beautiful, relaxing place.

Emma and Henry were helping themselves to hot chocolate with marshmallows and cinnamon in the kitchen. Belle found them and helped herself to some at their invitation, but she did without the marshmallows and cinnamon, preferring just to taste the chocolate.

'Don't know what you're missing,' Henry said, and she smiled.

'My mother used to make it with a dollop of cream and chocolate shavings on top,' she said.

'Mm, that does sound good,' Emma said. 'I'm sure Dad's got cream and chocolate somewhere.'

'I do,' Gold said, coming in. 'Would you like some, Belle? Here, let me.' And he took her cup and added a dollop of cream and some grated chocolate.

'Thank you,' Belle said softly, smiling.

'You're quite welcome,' Gold returned. 'I'm not a cinnamon person myself,' he said confidentially. 'Not sure what the appeal is for this lot, honestly.'

'Cinnamon's awesome,' Henry insisted. 'Where's Dad?'

'Bringing the last of the bags up,' Gold said. 'You brought a lot this year.'

'That was Mom,' Henry claimed.

'Hey!'

'Oh, don't worry, Emma, I know a certain person refused to leave home without his video games, and the console, and an extra controller.'

'Hey, I was just being considerate of you guys,' Henry said, shrugging, 'in case you wanted to play too.'

'Em, next year, don't let the kid bring so much,' Neal called, panting as he came into the kitchen. 'It's not like we're not gonna have to bring twice as much home, Henry,' he added, 'since a certain person buys too many gifts.'

'I know you're not talking about me,' Gold said. 'I had a word with Santa's elves after last year, so I don't think there'll be as much extravagance this year.'

'Yeah, right,' Neal returned, not believing that for a second. 'We're not gonna fit all of us in the car going home with all the gifts.'

Gold held his hands up, pleading innocence, and Belle smiled at the scene. They were such a lovely, loving family.

Gold caught her eye and winked, and she giggled. Yes, no doubt Neal was right and there would be many presents for young Henry this Christmas.

'Alright, who wants to decorate the tree?' Gold asked.

'Me!' Henry yelled.

'Not so loud, kid,' Emma said.

'Oops, sorry. Can we, Grandpa?'

'We can,' his grandfather said.

'Cool.' And Henry ran off.

Emma and Neal followed.

'Better make sure he doesn't just throw everything on there,' Neal said as he followed his wife.

'Belle, I hope you'll join us,' Gold said.

'Oh, it's your family thing. I don't want to intrude,' she demurred.

'None of that,' he scolded. 'You could never intrude. Come on, bring your hot chocolate with you.'

So she did, smiling, and the five of them had a blast arranging the ornaments on the tree.

Before they were finished, though, the jovial scene was interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door.

'Who on earth can that be?' Gold wondered, going to investigate. No one else was expected. Everyone else followed, equally curious.

'Milah?' Gold said, shocked, as he opened the door to his ex-wife.

'Surprise!' she said.

'What are you doing here, Milah?' Gold asked, not at all pleased to see her.

'Well, I thought I'd join you all for Christmas. Neal said I should, so here I am.'

'Shit,' Neal growled under his breath. Emma nudged him in the ribs for swearing in front of their son. Shit, he was in so much trouble...

'Neal?' his father demanded.

'Well, I guess I kinda did?' he said sheepishly. 'Pretty sure I meant it sarcastically, though. I never thought she'd actually come.'

'Neal,' his father growled.

'Oh, come on! Ma doesn't do rustic. Who could guess she'd actually take me up on it?'

'Oh, for God's sake,' Gold said, rubbing a hand over his face.

He had a pretty good idea what had happened. His smart arse son decided to fuck with his mother on one of the rare occasions they shared a meal together. He'd probably had a bit too much to drink as well, which never helped matters, because he got very sarcastic when he was drunk, but Milah was hopeless at recognising sarcasm for what it was. Well, she was so narcissistic as well that she probably assumed everyone wanted her around all the time, so, when Neal said something like 'yeah, you should totally come to the cabin for Christmas: Papa would love to see you', the woman had got it into her head that it was a genuine invitation.

'Well, aren't you going to let me in, Tristan?' Milah demanded. 'It's bloody freezing out here.'

He opened the door in silence. He couldn't tell her to leave. She'd spread nasty gossip all over Boston if he didn't welcome her, and he didn't need the headache of refuting whatever she said. If he let her stay, she'd get bored quickly and go back to the city. Neal was right: Milah did not do rustic, and there was not a lot to do out here that would appeal to her.

'Emma, Henry, how nice to see you both,' Milah was saying now.

'Hey, Milah,' Emma returned.

'Hi,' Henry said unenthusiasticly, sticking close to his mother. He did not like his grandmother at all. She'd never treated him with any kind of affection, so why should he?

'And who might you be, dear?' Milah asked, looking at Belle, who was suddenly aware she was intruding on an awkward family moment.

Neal suddenly had a brainwave, how to keep his mother at bay and help his father and Belle along at the same time.

'This is Belle,' he said, before she could introduce herself, 'Papa's girlfriend.’

Next time, Gold and Belle have to figure out a way to deal with that little bombshell...

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #scribbles-by-kate's stories #a girlfriend for christmas

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theusualspotcafe-blog · 7 years ago

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Ignis’s Birthday

Game: FFXV

Characters: Ignis, Prompto, Noctis, Gladio, Iris, Luna

Pairing: Some Promnis

Rating: General

Author: The Usual Spot Cafe

Word Count: 824

Notes: Here is Ignis’s birthday fic! Happy birthday Specs!

Ignis sighed when he stepped in the door to the apartment, setting his bag down and shrugging off his jacket. It had been an extremely busy day for him, what with going to classes, filling out reports for Caelum Enterprises, and having to participate in multiple conference calls for said company. His birthday was no excuse to take a break. Ignis toed off his shoes, pulling his phone out of his pocket and calling out to the other apartment’s occupants, “I’m going to order takeout! I’m not feeling up to cooking today.”

Walking in from the entryway he had expected to see Noctis and Prompto sitting on the couch playing video games with Gladio nearby reading a book and Iris doing homework. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of Noctis and Prompto in front of the stove, giving each other panicked looks while the Amicitia siblings met his shocked stare with one of their own while stirring what looked to be cake batter in a large mixing bowl. Prompto rushed over, leaving Noctis to deal with whatever was on the stove. He leaned up and gave Ignis a kiss on the cheek, “Um, happy birthday, Igs. I know we gave you your gifts this morning and everything, but I was just thinking that you do so much for us…it just didn’t feel like enough, so we all decided to cook dinner so you didn’t have to.”

Ignis smiled at his boyfriend, grimacing when he heard Noctis whispering out a string of expletives. “You should get back to helping Noct. Put those lessons I’ve been giving you to good use.”

Prompto grinned, kissing him once quickly on the lips before skipping back over to the stove. There was a knock on the door before Ignis got a chance to settle in and he went to open it before the others could protest. Luna stood on the other side of the door, smiling softly and holding a couple of bottles of his favorite wine. “Happy birthday, Ignis!” After a quick embrace, Luna and Ignis walked back into the kitchen. “I brought the wine for your birthday dinner because none of them trusted me to cook.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, “Last time you thought you’d cook me a romantic dinner, you almost set the place on fire and everything was charred.”

Luna blushed, setting the wine on the counter, “Yes, well, it was the first time.”

“It was just last year.”

Luna cleared her throat, looking down at her nails as though they were the most interesting things in the world, “I’d never cooked before that.”

Prompto tutted, looking at the blonde with a fond smile, “Rich people.”

Ignis chuckled at their banter, before deciding to set the table for dinner. His efforts were thwarted though when Iris and Gladiolus took the plates directly from his arms. “Take a load off, Iggy. We’ve got this.”

Iris grinned, setting the plates around the table, “You shouldn’t have to work any harder than you already have on your birthday.”

Ignis sighed, grabbing the wine glasses from the cupboard and quickly setting them around the table before they could stop him. “Though I appreciate the pampering, it’s unnecessary to treat me like I am incapable you two.”

Noctis snorted out a laugh, pulling a pot from the stove and turning off the heat, “You have no idea how to relax, do you, Specs?”

“Not really, no.”

Prompto sighed, coming around the island counter and grabbing Ignis’s shoulders to guide him to a seat at the dinner table, “Sit.” He poured him a glass of wine, “drink.” Noctis dished some food onto his plate, “eat, and relax.”

Ignis chuckled as everyone else sat down at the table, filling their plates with…whatever it was that Noctis and Prompto had made. “Very well, I’ll attempt to relax.” He looked down at the pasta and poultry on his plate, staring dubiously up at him (taking notice how Noctis conveniently forgot to create a vegetable dish with it). When he saw Noctis and Prompto’s expectant stares, he gulped, hoping he wasn’t shaking as he brought a bite on his fork to his mouth. He chewed, eyes widening in surprise that it actually had a good flavor to it.

“Well, how is it?” Prompto asked nervously as Iggy swallowed the food in his mouth.

Ignis smiled at the two, “Though I don’t exactly know what it is, it’s very well cooked and has a good flavor. My compliments to the chefs.”

Both boys breathed out a sigh of relief before beginning their meal. Everyone ate their dinner with a smile on their faces, talking and laughing through the meal. When they had dessert later, the frosting was a little messy, the cake having been too warm, but it was delicious nonetheless and Ignis made a wish when blowing out the candles that every birthday celebrated by them would be just as wonderful as this one.

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freenewstoday · 4 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://freenews.today/2021/01/11/the-attack-on-the-capitol-was-even-worse-than-it-looked/

The Attack on the Capitol Was Even Worse Than It Looked

The live video of the Jan. 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol was largely images from a distance: a sea of attackers seeping up the steps and through the entryways. It was like watching a malevolent tide slowly threaten to drown democracy. It could not possibly get worse than this.

But it could. And it did, as more close-up and graphic videos of the American carnage that Trumpists unleashed in the Capitol emerged on social media and TV through the weekend.

Wednesday’s insurrection was one of the rare live-TV atrocities that grew only more sickening, more terrifying, more infuriating as more days passed. What we remember of the 9/11 attacks, for instance, is largely what we saw in the first few hours: the planes hitting, the towers collapsing, the pedestrians fleeing. Terror attacks, mass shootings — the shock hits us up front, and then we process it.

But last Wednesday seemed to last for days. New smartphone videos of violence came out one by one. The horror came in waves, the attack revealed with every image as more bloodthirsty and deplorable.

Watching the stunning coverage on Wednesday, I kept noticing all the flags waving in the crowd. In a video that aired on CNN this weekend, the flag becomes a weapon. An assailant outside an entrance beats a prostrate police officer with the pole of an American flag while others hurl them at defenders like javelins, the kind of too-perfect metaphor that only reality can get away with.

In another, the mob crushes a police officer in a door while he screams in pain. In another, rioters chant: “Hang Mike Pence! Hang Mike Pence!” In another, attackers hammer at a door, then a gunshot fires — through the door, you see only the gun and the hand holding it — killing a woman in the crowd.

In a video captured by Igor Bobic of the Huffington Post, an officer gets a rampaging crowd to turn to its left and chase him down a hallway, diverting it from the unguarded door of the Senate chamber. Even that moment of bravery is chilling: How close history may have come to taking a bloodier turn right.

Even the sight of the aftermath showed how brutally intimate the violation was. On “60 Minutes” Sunday, Nancy Pelosi walked Lesley Stahl through the House chamber and her office suite: a shattered mirror, the conference table under which she said her staff hid in the dark for two and a half hours while intruders pounded on the entrance.

The horror was not just in seeing the People’s House ransacked and bloodied. The horror came in having already seen it live, and then realizing we had scarcely seen what was happening at all. Were we a few minutes away, one wrong turn here or there, from a vice-presidential assassination, an on-camera massacre of legislators, maybe even the effective end of American democracy?

Seeing how close we may have come is enraging, not just against the mob but everyone who minimized the danger of this mass delusion, everyone who euphemized the kind of bigotry on full display here, every responsible person who failed to prepare for the attack, every leader who served up the stolen-election fantasy that encouraged this spasm of insanity.

As appalling as Wednesday was, many of the initial images focused on the eye-catching and even the absurd: a rioter in face paint and Viking horns, another strutting with Ms. Pelosi’s lectern like a state-fair prize.

We knew on Wednesday this was no harmless goof. But the much-shared images might have implied that this was part carnival sideshow, a last gasp of attention seekers and cosplayers.

The great mistake of the Trump years has been not realizing that a thing, or a person, can be both ludicrous and dangerous. We live in the era of weaponized irony and killer clowns (a central image of recent pop culture, from “Joker” to “American Horror Story: Cult”). The crowd that tried to mug democracy Wednesday was both cosplaying insurrection and genuinely committing it.

The rush of new images has also helped the authorities charge and investigate more suspects, which has complicated longtime media misperceptions of the Trump era and Trumpists.

These were not simply basement-bound yahoos or the “economically anxious.” Some of them were police officers, ex-military, elected politicians, well-to-do conservative burghers, flying to Washington to either demand the election result they wanted or beat one out of Congress.

This steady drip of videos and reports, each bit seemingly more disturbing than the last, has created a feeling of delayed-onset trauma. Many viewers likely saw them for the first time Monday morning, when the broadcast morning shows ran video packages and chronologies, with graphics illustrating how physically close the rampage came to being a potential mass slaughter.

On the other hand, the pro-Trump bastion “Fox and Friends” focused on impeachment and ran several “Big Tech Censorship” segments on the tech industry’s actions against the president and the right-wing social-media haven Parler. Only brief snippets hinted at the inconveniently awful video context behind all this news happening in the first place.

For those who have eyes and will see, however, the enormity of what happened Wednesday — and what could have happened but didn’t — has only sunk in deeper.

I felt it this morning, as the cable networks turned to live news from Congress, where Democrats introduced an article of impeachment against President Trump for incitement of insurrection, in the same halls we saw besieged. The images were plain video wallpaper; officials milled about in the staid setting we associate with long speeches and C-SPAN marathons and, frankly, tedium.

But even watching this relatively static scene, I could feel myself tense up, eyes drifting to the doorway, waiting for the jump scare.

Who knows how long it will be until looking at Congress can feel boring, or safe, again?

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moderndaymiserypodcast · 4 years ago

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The Night of the Escape by Alex Kelly

“Did you hear that?” Keith turned around to face his cohorts, enabling him to fully present his mockingly shocked face.

“Man don’t do that, I’m trying to stay chill.” Jake, oversized navy hoodie slumping with his shoulders out of tired annoyance. He didn’t really hate Keith’s jokes, it was a reprieve from the eerie place they were walking around in but read the room.

“I know neither of you are actually paying attention, but there was the sound of something knocking against wood.” Victor said, matter of factly.

“Knocking against wood, eh? Doesn’t sound too bad to me” Keith smirked at Victor, expectantly, an eager dog waiting for their owner to make the slightest sign of approval. It never came. Keith rolled his eyes, turned back, and they continued into the living room. They had just entered the house, via the front door and tight entryway, but it was already clear the people who took care of this place didn’t believe in swiffers. The house’s style was as if someone collected newspapers as a job. Stacks filled the floor and gave way to dated, Victorian style furniture.

Jake held Victor's sister’s camera, panning around the floor and walls to capture the detail. This was his fifth time recording for the guys and one could say he was still getting the hang of it. He wasn’t a professional cinematographer yet so the shakiness added to the realism they were all looking for. Victor researched the facts, directed, and led them through investigations. He was the one who introduced the other two to the world of paranormal mysteries earlier in the semester and Keith was the brains -if you can call it that- who saw the potential in a YouTube series of three college friends investigating ghosts. Enough people are jumping on this bandwagon, why shouldn’t they? Victor thought it would give his research an outlet, and although he’d never admit this, getting to discover a ghost or some paranormal entity with video proof made him excited to get up in the morning. These three boys just happened to attend Fairfield together and were only a twenty-one-minute drive to the Warren Occult Museum, they’d be poor ghost hunters if they didn’t investigate this.

“I was simply mentioning that we should be alert. Jake, you’re recording, yes?” Victor looked at Jake who nodded, intent on not making any sounds.

Keith, not known for giving up the last word, replied, “Victor, we’re surrounded by a forest, inside a big old house with a shit ton of windows, and there’s a breeze. Everything is making the sound of something knocking against wood.”

The living room had an open hallway entrance in the back, it glowed red. They naturally gravitated towards it, assuming the destination. The hallway was crammed with large paintings and terrifying sketches of screaming faces and messy, haunted houses. Several reddish-orange light bulbs were attached to the upper part of the wall, an attempt to dress the place up that ended up making everything look stained with fresh blood.

Victor led the way, already in the zone, “Donna was this nursing student who got the doll from her mom as a gift-”

Keith popped in, “That’s a weird gift-”

“-anyways, it started to move around when no one looked. Donna and her roommate started finding strange notes on the ground that they couldn’t explain. When the doll’s hands had what looked like blood on them-”

“-the doll...had blood on them,” Keith said in between laughing.

Victor gave a terse look, “So they called a medium who said that the spirit of a 7-year old girl found her home in the doll, her name was Annabelle. Touched, Donna let her stay in the doll. However,” Victor turned and stared into the camera, “what some might not know, is that demons can supposedly appear as small children to seem unassuming and garner trust from mortals.”

“Mortals? Vic!”

“I’m just trying to get the info out.” Jake remained silent while the two bickered. Victor continued, “and one of Donna’s friends, Lou, had supposedly gotten scratches from the doll. They got in touch with a priest who connected them with Ed and Lorraine Warren, who confirmed the doll was being controlled by a demonic spirit, not a ghost, who was looking for a human host and had the capacity to kill.”

This time, Keith stayed quiet with Jake. Jake kept the camera on Victor as they crept slowly through the hallway.

“The Warrens noticed the doll was dangerous to drive with and brought it home to try to exercise it. The first priest to insult the doll immediately found himself in a car crash later that day, which led to a series of car collisions with people who mocked the doll.”

Keith finally spoke, “So, what I’m hearing, is that I shouldn’t make fun of Annabelle?”

Jake swung the camera back and forth from him to Victor. Vic replied, “I can’t control what you say but if you do say something I don’t agree with, we’re driving back separately. We’re about to enter the room.

The hallway spit them out into the room that they had broken in to see. They wouldn’t have broken in normally, they’re not stupid, but the place has been closed for two years and if they didn’t explore it, the place might get torn down and replaced with a parking lot in mere months. Seizing the opportunity and already getting this far, the three of them walked inside. This was the artifact room, the place that held the world’s most dangerous and historically supernatural items. A vampire coffin stood upright on one wall, right next to one of probably fifteen demonic masks that looked like they were probably made of coarse, gritty material and hair.

Victor continued to talk, which Jake was thankful for, “That right there is ‘The Shadow Doll’ that you can make attack people if you try. There’s a doll from the New England Witch Trials, and again don’t touch anything, we’re not here to disturb, only communicate. And here…here’s Annabelle. You see the box she’s kept in? The Devil tarot card was stapled to the wood by Ed Warren, he also soaked the wood in holy water cause that’s what had kept her at bay.” Victor took out a vial of holy water and gave it a brief shake to demonstrate he brought it for emergencies. “We’ll be right back.”

Jake pointed the camera towards Annabelle and Keith and Victor set up two candles on either side of the doll’s box. Annabelle was kept in an arcade-game sized wooden frame with dusty glass windows. The red light washed over everything, and that included the raggedy-ann doll with large, black, empty button eyes. It’s hair was casually tossed around its head and it sat in the middle of the wooden bottom like it was waiting to be served tea, not attempt a murder. The entire case was taller than them and it gave it an edge of intimidation, despite the doll’s small size. A devil’s trap was carved into the floorboards beneath the case and painted in thick black acrylic directly above. Lots of stone chains and sigils surrounded the case, assumedly for extra protection. They lit the candles and the room somehow gets more unnerving with two flickering lights. Victor’s face remained stone-cold with focused intent but there was an eager hopefulness in his eyes. Keith still had one eyebrow raised and arms crossed.

Victor started, “Hello. We’ve placed two candles on either side of you. If you would like to communicate, turn off the candle to your right.”

They waited.

Victor continued, “If you are upset at our presence, turn off the candle to your right.”

Flickering.

The left candle flame danced, and then the candle on the right went out.

Jake spoke, “Uh. Guys did you see that?”

Keith looked at him, “Of course we did, the wind unlit our candles because that’s how small fires work.”

Victor held up a hand to stop Keith, “I’m going to continue. We do not want to upset you, we just want to talk. Do you feel trapped here?”

The flame returned to the candle. Everyone stopped breathing.

Everything just stopped.

“Do you want to kill us?” Keith broke the silence.

Victor instantly turned on him, “What would compel you to say something like that? I know you don’t take this seriously but come on.”

“Guys,” Jake mentioned. Both the candles were out, “Should we leave?”

The candle on the right fell to the floor. Both Jake and Victor jumped. Keith would refuse that he jumped. Jake looked at Victor for their next move. He nodded in silent agreement that their time here was complete. Victor said to Keith, “Jake has to wake up early, let’s call it,” he looked at the camera, “That was our interaction, and the most recent conversation, with Annabelle.”

Quiet again, Victor deftly picked up the candles and returned them to his back. His eyes straight ahead, lost in thought. Keith resumed looking around the room at the other strange objects. Jake stopped recording. The three of them started down the hallway but halfway through, a loud sound of breaking glass stopped them all in their tracks.

Jake stuttered, “Oh my god I’m so sorry, I bumped into one of the picture frames with the camera bag, I’m so so sorry.” He dropped to the ground and began sweeping up the shards with a rag.

“Jesus, you almost had me going! That was hilarious. How long did you have that planned?” Keith asked.

“It wasn’t a prank! I’m really sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Victor said, “This place is closed so I don’t think you’ll be in trouble-”

The house creaked again. They sighed.

Victor continued, “You finish cleaning, I forgot to get a picture I wanted. Once second.” Before either could refuse, Victor was gone. Keith’s attention span had fallen to zero and Jake hurriedly swept the glass as much as he could, only receiving minor scrapes and major shame.

At least two minutes had passed, Keith was playing an app game on his phone, and Jake was ready to not be there anymore. Another two minutes. Keith and Jake made eye contact.

“Do you think-”

“-It has been a while” They started at the same time. Keith carried on, “let’s go grab our lovable ghost-nut, I want to go home and you still have class.”

They returned to the room, walking confidently but their stomachs were not quite so calm. Returning to the room wasn’t any easier than the first time for Jake, and Keith went directly to Annabelle’s case. Strangely, the side pane of glass to the case was broken and the doll, as well as Victor, were gone.

Jake’s eyes had widened to golf balls, “What the fuck-what the fuck-Keith where the fuck is Victor?!”

“Relax, Victor knows this was a useless trip and a dull episode, start recording, he’s clearly pranking us. I’m just surprised he broke the glass, that’s commitment.”

Jake was shaking his head. His heart was pounding. He turned on the camera and started panning over the scene. Footsteps on the wood behind him sounded and grew closer…”AHH!” Jake yelped in alarm as a totally fine, undisturbed Victor emerged from another doorway.

“Oh? Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Keith smiled, “Su-ure you didn’t and I’m sure this just happened randomly.”

“What do you- WHAT?!” They hadn’t heard Victor’s voice raise above indoor-level, “Where’s the doll Keith? What did you do?” “Nice try man, I’m not falling for it, ‘Oh let’s go drive to the Warren's house, the doll that inspired all those movies lives there, oh? The dolls gone? Oh my pearls!’” Keith’s mocking Victor voice wasn’t half-bad.

“This isn’t a prank, not everything is a joke. You messing with the doll and breaking property isn’t a joke either. We’re going to look for the doll and one way or another, it’ll show up. Maybe on its own, maybe you’ll suddenly find it. I have my body cam on me, I’m going to scope out the box, you two spread out to the hallway and the living room. Keep yelling out to each other to stay together.” Victor was dead serious. Also perturbed that Keith wasn’t.

“Fine! Fine, we’ll entertain this thing for you, that’s how good of a friend I am.” Keith walked away and Jake stared at Victor who gave him an intense look, and then he followed Keith.

The two now walked down the hall again.

Victor shouted, “Here.”

Jake shouted, “Here.”

Keith was playing an app game.

Victor shouted, “Keith?”

Keith tuned in, “Yes, I’m here teacher.”

They returned to the living room, Jake still recording, and scanned the room, looking under couches and tables and behind piles of newspaper.

A few minutes had passed and Jake’s camera battery was running low.

Jake shouted, “Here - guys the camera’s almost dead.”

Keith responded, “Here. I’m good to go.”

Victor didn’t respond.

They waited, still nothing.

Keith turned to Jake, “Oh man let’s go back to the room and see what our maestro of tension has cooked up next.” Jake grimaced, and the two returned to the room for a third time. They walked in, both shouting for Victor more. Keith said, “Alright Victor, you are the master of pranks, the prank master, and you got Jake really good with this, but don’t you think it’s time for us to go back to the dorms?” Still no response.

Jake rounded a corner of shelves and faced the Annabelle case. His eyes caught a shine on the ground, a watch. He was relieved for a split second when it wasn’t the doll on the ground, waiting for him, but the relief drained from his body, replaced with an overwhelming amount of dread and numbness. He stared. Victor could not stare back because his body lay lifeless on the ground, arm with watch splayed outward, perhaps trying to grab onto something for purchase before…

Keith noticed Jake unmoving and walked over, the color leaving his face immediately, “He planned this, right?” No response. “He got blood packets and he was tired of me shitting on his ghost shit and this is him getting back at me?” No response. Keith crouched down and moved Victor’s head, his eyes starkly open and tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Fuck!” Keith jumped backwards. Jake somehow mustered the courage to shakily reach down and close his eyelids. Nothing could be done about his torso, Victor’s shirt had been torn to shreds to reveal several long claw marks through his body. Blood was starting to pool wider around the floor. “We gotta go Jake, we gotta get out of here and get the police.”

“...Police?” “Yeah fucking police, someone’s in this house fucking with us and just murdered our friend.” Keith was whispering now. He grabbed Jake’s arm and the two began running out. They ran past the New England doll, they ran down the hallway, pictures still screaming at them, a few bits of glass still on the ground, they ran to the entry room and Keith reached for the doorknob. It didn’t give. “What the fuck?”

But there wasn’t time for Jake to answer, he turned around and Annabelle the doll was laying in the center of the living room, facing the ceiling. “Keith, break the door.” Jake did not give commands, but Keith listened and took a step back and kicked the door down. It took two kicks. They ran out and started running down the long driveway, surrounded by tall dead wild grass. They parked on the side of the street but they still had a ways to go. They were both running as fast as they could but the camera was heavy for Jake. He started to slow.

“No no no, Jake we can’t slow down, here give me the camera.” Jake panted heavily, a smaller frame, and figured that Keith would be alright taking on the extra load. Jake hazarded a glance behind him and sure enough the doll lay in the middle of the distance they had just run.

“Keep running.” Jake said. They ran for their life through the biting cold Connecticut night, not a breeze in the air. They finally reached the car and Keith put the camera on the hood of the car and began fishing for his car keys. It was taking longer than either of them wanted.

“Oh come on. Here!” Keith found them and unlocked the car, they were inside faster than they thought possible, camera thrown in too. They started to drive down the street fast. The car shook and then it shook again, bigger, but there were no potholes on the road. “What did Victor say about people driving away? He said something, I just didn’t pay attention!”

“He said people who mocked them usually die in a car crash once they leave the place.”

“Oh that’s perfect! Did Victor say anything about killing it? Or keeping it trapped again?”

“He...he-”

“-come on!”

“He had the vial of holy water on him, we didn’t grab it we’d have to go back.”

“Fuck that! I’m not letting a doll stop us.” He pushed his foot down harder on the pedal and the car sped down the street faster, shaking continuing.

Jake chimed in, “I’ve heard, and Victor talked about this too, burning it could work.”

“Burning it! Okay when we get to the dorms we’ll use the lighter, you still have it on you?”

“Yeah.” After a minute, the shaking stopped all at once. They continued to fly street by street, no one out here in this empty farmland.

Jake turned to look out the rear window, and he wished he just hadn’t looked, yet again. Jake had no stomach for scary nonsense, he only came with Victor and Keith cause they were his friends and looked out for him. Now Victor was gone. The doll was in the middle of the backseat, black eyes and permanent smile staring back.

“Jake? Jake you okay?”

“Uh, Annabelle is in the...backseat.”

“WHAT.” The car slightly swerved at Keith’s shock but then he maintained. “Can you throw it out the window?!”

“It’ll just keep following us home,” Jake said under his breath.

“What was that, Jake?”

“Nothing. Give me a second.” Jake unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed into the back seat.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea!” Keith yelled.

“I’m going to fix it. Just keep driving, and don’t look back.”

“Okay?!”

“Thanks.” “Are you thanking the doll?” “Thanks for making me less scared.” And with that, Jake grabbed the doll with one arm and the other opened the back-right door. He leaped out, the doll held tightly to his body, and together they flung out of the car.

“JAKE, WHAT THE HELL!” Breaking the rule, he looked backwards and saw the lump of Jake on the black top, already getting smaller in the distance with the speed of the car, and then the lump set ablaze. The fire grew and grew until it was taller than the trees. The fire wasn’t just yellow, it was a deep red like the light in the room.

Keith cannot recount how he got home that night, he doesn’t remember.

August 14, 2020, 3 AM. Annabelle escapes the Warren house. Due to sensitivity and the lone survivor’s firm request, the boy's presence there that night was taken out of the official document.

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xswestallen · 7 years ago

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Iris Remembers: chapter 9

Read the full story on Archive of Our Own

Chapter summary: After Hannibal Bates frames Eddie for shooting two police officers, Barry and Iris must clear his name by catching Bates.

A/N: Do you guys still like this story? I haven't seen any comment on the last few chapters. If you life it, please keep commenting. I love feedback!

Joe told Captain Sing he was going to Keystone for a few days. Caitlin told Dr. Wells that Cisco was helping his brother, Dante, for a few days. These lies helped them avoid suspicion as they left for Starling City. The first day they were gone, Iris didn't hear from her father and just hoped that no news was good news. Like Barry, Iris was afraid of what they might find about the car crash that killed Tess Morgan.

Even though the mystery of Harrison Wells and his intentions with Barry were at the forefront of everyone's minds, metahuman criminals in Central City didn't care. Iris interviewed a woman arrested for stealing from the bank she works at. The woman swears she didn't do it and she has no history of prior crimes. After looking through the crime archives, Iris noticed six people in the last 11 months with no priors who swore their innocence for crimes video evidence showed them committing. Some of them even had rock solid alibis.

Iris didn't think this was a coincidence. Even though surveillance video shows otherwise, Iris believed the woman. Iris worried that a meta might be responsible. The story could wait, a innocent woman was in danger of spending years locked in prison. Iris immediately called Barry, knowing that he would do all he could to investigate the possibility of a metahuman robber.

Barry's phone went to voicemail. Iris tried again. There was still no answer. Panic set in. Iris drove to S.T.A.R. Labs, fearing the worst. She rushed into the cortex, only to find Barry was not there. Caitlin and Dr. Wells were speaking to him over the phone.

"Hey, we located Bates. He was impersonating his grandma." Barry's voice said.

Iris breathed a sigh of relief. Barry was ok. Wells hadn't hurt him.

"Barry, do not let him touch you." Dr. Wells ordered.

"Or," Caitlin stood up. "Let him see you use your super speed." she hunched over the computer Dr. Wells was looking at.

"How am I supposed to catch him?" Barry asked.

"The old fashion way. Run like a normal person." Dr. Wells said.

"Alright." Barry said. He hung up the phone.

Caitlin turned and saw Iris standing in the entryway. "What are you doing here?" She looked nervous. She knew Barry wanted Iris to stay away from Dr. Wells.

Iris tried to collect her thoughts. She stuttered, trying to remember why she tried to call Barry in the first place. "Umm I-uh... I'm writing a piece about the bank robbery. It was committed by a woman with no priors who claims that she left work and spent the night at home with her husband. There is a video from the security camera of her stealing, but she maintains her innocence. I think maybe a metahuman could be mind controlling her or maybe even shape shifting into her."

"You're very clever Miss. West." Dr. Wells spun around in his wheelchair to greet Iris with a smile she found even creepier than his usual one. "The real culprit's name is Hannibal Bates. He has the ability to transform into any person he touches and this isn't the first time he's framed somebody. Barry already knows about Bates and went to interview him with Detective Thawne."

"Oh." Iris was surprised to hear that. Then she remembered what Wells and Caitlin were saying to Barry over the phone. "Why can't he use his speed?"

"If Bates touches Barry, he could acquire not only Barry's physical appearance, but his characteristics as well. The last thing we need is a shapeshifter with super speed." Dr. Wells explained.

"Ain't that the truth." Iris said in a voice too low for Wells to hear. He didn't know how right he was.

"Bates could also expose to the world that Barry Allen is The Flash! Putting Barry and everyone who knows him in danger." Caitlin said.

The phone rang. Dr. Wells pressed a button and asked, "Barry?"

"GUYS, TWO COPS WERE SHOT!" Barry yelled.

Iris clutched the side of the desk for support. She was shocked and afraid. Her mind was racing. Wells said that Eddie was with Barry. Did Eddie get shot? Is he still alive? Iris didn't get the chance to really say goodbye. She loved him.

"What?" Caitlin gasped.

"I called 911, there on the way. I lost Bates."

A lump grew in Iris's throat. She had to ask, but she was scared to know. "Was..." Iris swallowed, she tried to find her voice. "Was Eddie one of them?"

"Iris?" Somehow Barry sounded even more freaked out now.

"Was Eddie shot?" Iris repeated.

"No."

"He's ok?" Iris put a hand over her rapidly beating heart.

"I'm fine, Iris." Eddie's voice spoke.

"Eddie" was all Iris could say. The sting of their break up and lack of closure hurt like hell. She still felt guilty about what happened in the alternate timeline and how she'd been having feelings for Barry throughout their relationship.

"We gotta go." Barry said. "The ambulance is here."

Iris slept well that night knowing that Eddie was ok. Barry already knew about the metahuman who was framing people for crimes and would surely catch Bates soon. The Flash had never let Central City down before. All seemed to be well. So, the last thing Iris expected when she came into work the following morning was for Linda to approach her with a horrified look and headline that read: "CCPD Detective Shoots Two of Brothers in Blue!" With a picture of Eddie pointing a gun at two officers underneath.

Iris took the paper from Linda. "What is this?" At first, Iris thought it might be some kind of sick joke.

"You haven't heard?" Linda asked.

Iris shook her head.

Linda looked at her with pity. "Eddie Thawne shot two cops last night."

Iris laughed. This had to be a joke. "That's impossible." Iris knew what kind of man Eddie Thawne was. He would never hurt any innocent person, especially not a fellow officer.

Linda pointed to the TV. The news anchor was talking about the story before a dash cam video played. It showed two officers get out of the cop car as Eddie walked towards them.

"What do you want us to do Thawne?" One of the officers asked.

"Die." Eddie responded.

Eddie wiped out his gun and fired three shots. Both of the officers fell to the ground. Eddie walked away, unfazed.

Iris covered her mouth. She shook her head vigorously. "No. No, there must be some kind of mistake."

Linda put a hand on Iris's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"I have to go." Iris abruptly turned to leave.

Iris called Eddie at least ten times as she drove to the precinct. He never answered.

"Barry!" Iris literally ran into him as she made her way to Eddie's desk. "What is going on? Everyone at CCPN is saying that Eddie shot two cops. How is that even possible?"

Barry took her hand lead her to the back of the room.

"You don't think he did this, do you?" Iris asked.

"No. Of course not."

"I need to see him!" Iris tried to leave but Barry put his hands on her shoulders.

"You can't see him, alright, they're not gonna let you."

Iris was hyperventilating. Every part of her body felt numb. The room was spinning and it was making Iris nauseous. Ever since she watched Eddie shoot those officers, she couldn't think rationally. Barry rubbed her shoulders soothingly. Iris tried to steady herself. She looked in Barry's eyes and he brought her back to reality. Then it hit her....

"BATES!" Iris shrieked.

A few people looked up from what they were doing.

"Shhhh!" Barry put a finger over her lips to stop her from yelling again.

"He did this!" Iris was outraged. "Bates should be in jail, not Eddie!"

"It was Bates. He touched Eddie and stole his appearance."

"You have to tell Captain Sing that Bates is a metahuman and he's the one responsible!"

"I don't think Sing will believe me." Barry sighed.

"You have to try!"

"I'm going to find Bates and bring him in. Then he'll see what Bates is capable of and how he framed Eddie and all those other people."

"BUT WHAT IF YOU CAN'T FIND HIM?" It came harsher than she intended it, but Iris was frustrated and scared. "He could be anyone. How will you find him if he always has the perfect disguise?"

Iris knew Barry wasn't naive. He knew how difficult finding Bates would be. But he looked at her with determination and said, "Look, I'm going to do everything I can to help him."

Iris's knees were buckling. She leaned in to hug Barry and he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry." Barry whispered to her. "It's gonna be ok. I promise." He let go of Iris and walked away.

Despite having faith in Barry, Iris couldn't sit back and wait for him to clear Eddie's name. She was going to do whatever she could to prove his innocence. Iris sat down at her dad's empty desk and logged onto his CCPD account. She pulled out the dash cam footage of Eddie shooting the cops. It was painful to see. But Iris forced herself to watch it over and over again, until she found something that might help Eddie's case. Upon the 10th or 11th viewing (she'd lost count), Iris noticed that the video showed Eddie holding the gun with his left hand. Eddie is not left handed but Hannibal Bates must be!

Iris went up to Barry's crime lab to show him, but he wasn't there. She called him but he didn't pick up. Iris went to the house and there was no sign of him. She figured he must've gone to S.T.A.R. Labs to ask Caitlin and Wells for help. She hurried over there with the hope that this would be enough to get Eddie out of Iron Heights. Finally, Iris found Barry in the cortex with Caitlin.

"Hi, I've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Here I am." Barry said uncertainly.

He and Caitlin both looked uncomfortable, but Iris didn't have to time to care about that.

"I found proof that Eddie's innocent!"

"You did?" Barry's mouth hung open in shock.

Iris went to the computer to pull up the footage for Barry and Caitlin to watch. "I hacked into my dad's CCPD account and went through the footage of Eddie shooting those cops. Look!"

The video played.

Iris turned to see if Caitlin or Barry caught on. Barry was starring at the screen. He seemed uneasy. Caitlin was looking nervously at Barry.

"What's wrong with you?" Iris asked her.

Caitlin jumped. "Huh? Um, nothing." she said. "I didn't do anything."

"I don't know seems pretty... convincing to me." Barry said.

"Look again!" Iris said as she hit replay. She paused before Eddie pulled the trigger. "Eddie is not left handed! But maybe Bates is."

"Bates?" Barry seemed surprised at the mention of Bates' name.

"Yeah, Hannibal Bates." Iris was annoyed. How could he forget about Bates? She didn't have much time to be angry though, because a second later, Barry was convulsing from the electric shock of Dr. Wells' stun gun. Barry collapsed on the floor. Iris stood up and back away from Wells in fear. Iris met his eyes and decided that being afraid wasn't going to help her fight Wells if she needed to. "What did you do?" she demanded.

"You're observations about the shooter were spot on, Miss. West. I told you you're clever." Wells said, lowering the stun gun. "The shooter was indeed left handed. As is this man." Wells looked down at Barry's body. "Our Barry, is right handed."

Caitlin threw her head back and her arms up. "Oh I knew it!" She saw the look Dr. Wells gave her and quickly added, "Never mind."

"Then this is him!" Iris approached the body that looked like Barry Allen.

"It is indeed." Wells assured her.

"I need to take him in to the police. If they can see what he can do they'll have to let Eddie go."

"Iron Heights isn't equipped for dealing with metahuman prisoners." Wells said. "Perhaps, it would be best if simply take Mr. Bates to the pipeline."

"I don't care where you lock him up, but first everyone needs to see that this man can change himself to look like other people. They need to see that it wasn't really Eddie who shot those cops. Or any of the other people they saw commit crimes I'm taking him in."

"Of course." Wells conceded.

"I'll help." Caitlin offered.

They put Bates in the backseat of Iris's car and began driving to CCPD. Bates was still unconscious as they pulled up to a red light next to a construction site. All of a sudden, a young girl's screams were coming from the back seat. Bates transformed into a little girl. He (or she?) was banging on the window and screaming for the construction workers to let her out of the car. Iris and Caitlin tried to explain that they didn't kidnap the girl, but the workers let Bates out. He ran away and soon lost in the crowds of people walking the streets of Central City.

Iris was heartbroken. She thought she could help Eddie, maybe make up for some of the damage she'd done, but Bates got away. Now, she also had to deal with the fact that Barry was missing. Caitlin and Iris searched CCPD but had no luck. Iris suggested they search the house next. Eventually, Caitlin found Barry laying in his closet with his mouth, hands, and feet duct taped.

"Barry!" Both girls yelled.

They sat beside him on the ground. Iris pulled the tape off his mouth.

"He's not moving!" Iris said, terrified. Had Bates killed Barry?

Caitlin put her fingers on his choroid artery. "He's alive, just unconscious."

"How do we wake him up?" Iris asked.

Caitlin slapped Barry across the face. His eyes shot open and he groaned in pain.

"For real?" Barry asked. "Why did you slap me?"

"Because you were uncurious." Caitlin got defensive.

"Smelling salts work just as well."

"Sorry, ok?"

Caitlin and Iris pulled the rest of the duct tape off Barry.

"Bates, he was here!" Barry told them.

"Yes, we know." Caitlin said.

They helped Barry to his feet.

"I'll let Dr. Wells know you're ok." Caitlin pulled out her phone and left the room.

Iris held Barry's hand and walked with him to the bed. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah." Barry waved off the question. "How did you know Bates was here?"

"He impersonated you."

Barry's eyes filled with fear. "Did he-"

"No." Iris cut him off before Barry's thoughts got to a scary place. "He didn't commit any crimes. He just went to S.T.A.R. Labs with Caitlin. I went there too because I found something that might clear Eddie's name."

"What is it?"

"In the video of the shooting, Eddie used his left hand. But, Eddie is right handed. Hannibal Bates is left handed."

"That's great!" Barry smiled. Then, he saw Iris's crestfallen face. "Why aren't you happy?"

"Bates got away." Iris almost cried. "We had him, right there. But he got away. I don't know if we'll ever catch him again."

Barry put his arm around Iris. She silently cried into his chest, trying to calm down by listening to the drumming of his heartbeat. "I loved Eddie." she sobbed.

"I know." Barry said. Iris felt him sigh.

"I wasn't aware of my feelings for you. I never meant to hurt Eddie. I'm embarrassed that I could cheat on him. I'm an idiot for not telling him right away. I've been a terrible person and I just wanted to do something good for Eddie. I thought for once I could actually help him instead of hurting him."

"Hey, hey. You're not terrible." Barry told her. He stroked her hair. "Iris, you're a kind, generous, good person. I'm so amazed by your heart."

Iris was even more embarrassed now. "I'm sorry I'm telling you all this, Barry. I know you don't want to hear about my feelings for Eddie and please don't feel guilty about that kiss, It's all my fault."

"It's ok. I'm you're best friend. You can talk to me about anything." Barry said.

Iris looked up at him. He was smiling down at her. For a brief moment, everything seemed like it was going to be ok.

"Eddie is good guy." Barry admitted. "I tried to hate him because I was so jealous. But, I couldn't. He's a good person. I used my powers to break him out, but he wanted me to take him back. I'm not a kid anymore, I'm The Flash. And I promise you, I'm not going to rest until I get Eddie out of Iron Heights."

Iris wiped her eyes. She and Barry stood up, Iris grabbed the duct tape Bates had used on Barry. When she did, she was instantly in the airport. Iris looked around.

"Oh no, not again." she told herself.

It was the airport, but it wasn't. Iris knew it wasn't real. It was another one of those bizarre memories from the previous timeline. Iris didn't see anyone she recognized. She couldn't think of a reason why she'd go to the airport on that day Barry time traveled. Then, she saw the flight directory. It had today's date. Why could that be? Iris saw people all around her, none of whom she recognized. Nothing happened, and then the experience was over.

Iris was back in Barry's room. He was holding her hands. "Are you ok?"

"It happened again." Iris told him.

Barry looked confused.

"I had one of those experiences! Like the memory of being at the waterfront or when I saw Wells kill Cisco. But, this time I was at the airport. And it couldn't have been the day you traveled through time because I saw the date. It was today." Iris spoke so fast she wasn't sure if Barry was keeping up with her.

"Wait, what? What happened at the airport? Are you sure it was today?"

"Nothing happened. I was just standing in a terminal at the airport." Iris shrugged. "I saw today's date on the flight directory."

Caitlin came back into the room. "Bates stole Barry's cell phone and wallet. Dr. Wells just told me we got a ping on the GPS on Barry's cellphone. Bates is at the airport."

Barry and Iris exchanged mystified looks.

"What?" Caitlin asked.

"No time to explain. I'll be at the airport." Barry said. A gust of wind blew and Barry was long gone.

The DA, Captain Sing, and Barry were in Captain Sing's office, watching security camera footage of The Flash's fight with Bates. Iris was waiting hopefully in at her dad's desk. The office door opened and Barry smiled at her. She beamed back at him, knowing Eddie had been cleared.

"Iris." Eddie's voice startled her. She turned and saw him walking towards her.

"You're free!" she said with a shy smile, hoping he would talk to her.

"All the charges have been dropped."

"I-I'm glad. I knew you were innocent."

"I heard you ran out of CCPN saying it was impossible for me to shoot those cops and then discovered that the shooter in the video was left handed instead of right handed."

"Yeah."

Eddie smiled. "Thanks for believing in me."

"There was never any doubt! I knew you would never hurt anyone. I had to do everything I could to help you." She looked him up and down, taking a deep breath. "You're a good person, Eddie. That's why I fell in love with you. I'm sorry again for-"

"Iris, you don't need to keep apologizing."

"I do!" Iris insisted. "I'm so sorry."

Eddie took her hands. "It's ok."

For the first time, Iris felt able to forgive herself. She nodded at Eddie who smiled in return.

"Thank you for all the good memories, Iris." Eddie said. A tear glistened in his eye. "I'll never forget you either and I don't regret the time we shared."

Iris choked up hearing Eddie talk about the note she left him in the apartment they used to share.

"You deserve somebody who makes you happy too." Eddie told her.

They both looked over to Sing's office, where Barry was standing in the doorway.

#westallen #westallen fic #westallen fanfiction #westallen au #the flash fanfiction #the flash CW #barry x iris #barry allen x iris west #barry allen fanfiction #eddie thawne x iris west #eddie thawne #iris remembers #iris west-allen

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ghozt1ng-blog · 7 years ago

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Chapter Thirteen - These Ain’t the Cheap Seats

Trick was thoroughly confused as to how and why there could still be so many college students in a university town right before Thanksgiving. In a city that made itself on the presence of large college, which meant that these kids had other places to be during a holiday, why were they all still there? The others in the rented car had to explain to him that Provo was a black hole for Mormon students, or so they had heard. Their school schedules were different than others in the U.S., and they had such a strong community here that people didn’t want to leave. Plus, they would all be busing getting ready for the next bout of proposals, as Mormons were want to do, especially during a holiday.

Utah is such a weird place! Trick rubbed his temples.

He looked out the window and watched the tame signs and shops go by. There was a palpable difference to this place, one that he felt he could reach out and touch. He knew he shouldn’t bring it up, though. Conturbatio was itching to go on about possible conspiracies (though Trick hadn’t really heard any yet from the man) in regards to the Mormons. Or was he? After speaking with the mailbox, the Sphinx seemed a little more subdued. Trick wondered what it was exactly that had flipped the switch. Was it the bizarre case? The all-knowing aspect of the blabbermouth? Was it the hint of enemies? Was it the insanity of the whole damn situation!? Trick couldn’t tell what it was, but he knew all of that was weighing down on him. This hadn’t been the adventure he was looking for when he had been bored in school just yesterday.

Had it just been yesterday!? This whole case made him feel like he had been slogging through the unexpected and the unwanted for a month. One magically disturbing month! Not even a full 24 hours! Trick felt like punching something, preferably Brandon.

Soon, they pulled up to the theater and made their way inside. Brandon had come with his folks, and he was already getting cold feet. Apparently the promise of a hot chick’s contact info can only bring a man so far. He and naomi both gritted their teeth, pinned Brandon between them and hiked him inside. Conturbatio bought the tickets.

“I am going to have a lot of explaining to do back at the office. The Budgeting committee is going to gut us even more than we already are…”

Stacey soothed him, “If we are able to prove everything that we have seen here and how it correlates with the last attack, the Q Files will grow in ways we have only dreamed about! Take a hit to win the fight, right?”

The Sphinx smiled at her and Susan said dryly, “Why don’t you pull out those kinds of encouragements more often?”

But then the two women smiled and laughed at each other. Trick concluded that adults were all weird and insane. Once the Sphinx handed them the tickets, we went back to the ca, where a duffel bag with their secret weapon resided. He was going to enter the theater from the back. The inside of the theater felt like an assault from the 80’s punctuated with too many neon lights. College students milled about everywhere, trying to get their popcorn, and dancing their significant others around other couples, and showing off. It was a unique dance and mad house. And the things they were saying were just too outrageous.

“Please Addison! I’m getting married soon, and I need the money. I can’t support a wife on just popcorn!”

A tall and youthful man was almost on his knees pleading to a bearded manager, who looked like sexy carved out of Mount Rushmore.

“You know Jed, some people would come to this country illegally just to work for popcorn, because they don’t have anything else! Are you really going to spurn what I am paying you?”

“I’m basically your slave!”

Addison sighed, “Of course you are! It was in your in employee contract, in bold nonetheless! Plus, you get free movies every week, AND you get to bring a friend! That is how you won her over, right?”

“Mimblewimble,” was what came out of Jed’s mouth.

“Now get your chores done, or there won’t be any stale popcorn for you later!” With that, the manager called Addison marched off.

Trick watched the dejected employee, Jed, as Agent Miles and his mother got popcorn. He went over to the entryway to grab up a broom when a gaggle of friends passed through the doors. One girl strode out at the front with her chest out and crowned with bump on her head to make expecting mothers’ pregnancy photos jealous. She wore clothes that screamed to everyone, “I live a conservative lifestyle!”

“Jed,” she shouted when she saw him. “When are you getting a real job? How can expect to be a good husband and priesthood holder if all you do is languish in a place like this and work for popcorn! Seriously, it drives the spirit and authority right out of you, and stop slouching!”

“Yes Camille,” Jed said, clearly flustered.

“That’s Sister to you,” she shoved a finger under his nose. “Oh come on, Jed, you know I’m joking. But seriously.”

Trick and Jed both obviously thought this girl didn’t know what a real joke was, not would if it bit her on the butt. She then turned to others of her group and shouted, “What is the movie we are seeing again?”

“Jurassic Park,” someone from the back piped up.

“But that movie is PG-13,” Camille gasped. “And this late at night, in a dark theater. So much could happen! We are flirting with sin! Which is sin itself.”

Trick groaned inwardly. He’d have to deal with Brandon and this bunch of idiots, too? He half wished a dinosaur would come through the screen and eat them.

“Come on Camille, lighten up a bit. It’s a fun movie,” another girl tried saying.

“Lighten up? Drop my standards you mean! That’s where it begins!”

A big guy then sighed and said,”Look, I already got everyone’s tickets. Just please come and try to enjoy yourself.” Camille stuck her nose up into the air and stomped off, as the big guy turned to Jed. “So are you coming by tomorrow to play Smash? Remember, no Villager for you!”

“No Adrian, you always beat me,” Jed complained.

Adrian started pummeling Jed and said angrily, “Tell no one!”

Trick just looked away and whistled. Together with Naomi, they frog marched Brandon into the theater. Sure enough, with a crowd pleasing favorite like Jurassic Park, the place was packed. Brandon said that the theater they were in was on the opposite side of the building where the first attack had taken place. With how many people there were, Trick would never have suspected that an attack had occurred here just days before. Another reminded of how weird the whole situation was.

He heard Camille come in and still complain about the movie and avoiding the appearance of evil. Naomi also now looked like she had a good mind to go and slap the older girl. For crying out loud, let others enjoy the movie! Brandon began to whimper as they say down.

“I really don’t want this to happen. I hope it doesn’t happen.”

“You better hope it happens,” Naomi snapped. “Or you will still have to put up with the stuff that sucked you into a video game.”

“I had been hoping for an SAO or Tron experience, but I just didn’t get it…”

“Here, have some popcorn and stuff it,” Trick growled, shoving a large bag of popcorn under the teen’s nose.

Thankfully Brandon obliged and they could enjoy the previews in peace as the lights dimmed. Trick’s mother and Agent Miles positioned themselves right in front of the teens, as to better protect them when things got hairy. Brandon’s own family had decided not to join in, but were waiting outside. Trick’s hands got sweaty as he began anticipating the horrors that could come out of the screen.

The lights dimmed all the way down and the epic first note of Jurassic Park’s opening crashed over them like a wave. The hairs went up on Trick’s arms and neck and he watched as the trees and foliage shifted to make way for the ominous cage holding a velociraptor. Muldoon waited there with his guards to receive the monster. This scene always put Trick on edge, but in the best way.

Despite the fact that Brandon was here to gain access to Naomi’s friend, he still tried to hold her hand. She slapped it audibly away. Though it broke the atmosphere, Trick giggled at it. At least there was something to break the tension, which was continued to mount on screen.

The gatekeeper was on top of the loading cage, and the velociraptor rammed the other side of the cage, rolling it back and knocking the gatekeeper down. The raptor, still unseen, yanked the poor employee into the cage. Muldoon managed to latch a hold of the man and attempted in vain to thwart the murder.

“See, this is just so wrong, I can’t feel the comfort I should be feeling,” Camille whined somewhere behind Trick.

Oh great… She’s close by. This could end up being a very long movie. Trick rolled his eyes and tried to concentrate on the action.

And then the screen bulged, people in the audience gasped and screamed. The cage continued to roll back and it looked like was about to roll into the theater itself. The gatekeeper was swept in and screamed in agony as he was opened up and killed, beyond the sight of the camera. Muldoon jumped back and reached for his gun, firing rounds into the cage. But the horror was only beginning. The doors to the raptor paddock slid back effortlessly More raptors spilled out and began attacking workers.

“But there were only two others,” Naomi said quickly.

Brandon began rocking again and muttered, “We’ve got to go. We’ve got to go. We gotta go! It’s happening again, and it’s all wrong! We’re gonna die!”

Others in the audience began catching on that this was wrong and someone bolted for the doors. They shouted back that the door was locked and it couldn’t be opened. The same proved true for the exits. Panic was rising in the room, and the bulge was getting larger.

Still, Naomi asked quietly, “Why are there more raptors, there should only be three?”

Camille was shrieking her off behind them and the two FBI agents were rising and barring their guns. Something then came to Trick’s memory.

“She developed a pride and killed all but two of the others,” Trick quoted. “Naomi, there were originally more raptors in the cage than three.”

Naomi sucked in air and then said, “And if the heroes could barely deal with three raptors, what are we going to do against more than half a dozen, and with no way out?”

They shared a worried look over Brandon and Trick said weakly, “Sphinx had better get here now!”

The way into the theater was sealed, and Conturbatio could hear the cries of panic from within. He didn’t figure that anyone had been hurt yet. Shouting out to the employee and told them to make sure that the hallway was cleared.

“FBI business. THere is some trouble going on. Call the police! See to everyone’s safe evacuation!”

The employees gave him confused looks. It was only natural, however. He had the large vacuum pack with a gun strapped to his back. He looked really weird, and his badge just looked like he was late to a Halloween party. But the screams from the theater seemed to convince some and they began moving about. As Conturbatio put his back into breaking down the doors, a manager appeared.

“Sir, can I help you?”

“Mr., uh, Addison, there is about to be another attack in your theater. Something is wrong here and I need to get in!”

“Jed!” Addison called to the hapless giant. “Help this man get inside and escort the people out. I’m going to make sure we evacuate the other theaters. Hop to it, and you’ll actually earn some money for a change!”

Jed rushed to the Sphinx’s side as the manager ran into another theater himself. The screams were becoming frantic. Conturbatio raised an eyebrow at the thin youth’s frame.

“I’m much more solid than I look,” Jed said.

“I hope that is the case,” Conturbatio breathed. “Alright. Let’s get this door open!”

Together, they threw themselves against the double doors, willing and forcing them to move.

#utards #My writing #mysteries of the q files #the x files #cheap movies #jedcanon #jurassic park

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