#best cage location for earthquake

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: We're having loads of fun this week -Danny Words: 2,148 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Champion' -by Fall Out Boy

XXII: The Nonsense Has Escalated

She refuses to be who Helen was, the cause of countless demises while hiding behind fortified barriers. That's not who Ara Jackson is. She's the solution, not the problem.

Ara's looking at Piper's dagger for directions, and it shows her the outside of what seems to be an old workshop. The blade obliges to her requests easily, almost like it recognizes its original owner. It takes her no time to find a motorcycle and she takes it. If the owner's lucky, she won't even damage it beyond repair.

Ara drives through the city following her compass, it guides her effortlessly because there is only one thing she wants right now and that's finding Nico. Eventually, she locates the old workshop. Ara walks up to the entrance and breaks in. 

It takes her just a couple of minutes to get to the bottom, which of course is way bigger than it looks on the outside. Ara is overwhelmed by all the cages and machinery surrounding her.

"...this spectacle will be even better," one of the giant twins is saying. "The Romans always wanted bread and circuses—food and entertainment! As we destroy their city, I will offer them both. Behold, a sample!"

Percy talks, which sends a wave of relief through Ara's body. "Wonder bread?"

"Magnificent, isn't it? You can keep that loaf. I plan on distributing millions to the people of Rome as I obliterate them."

"Wonder bread is good," the other twin says. "Though the Romans should dance for it."

Ara comes out right behind the giants, and Percy's the first to spot her. There is a split second of recognition on his face before he looks back at the giants and resumes his conversation.

"Maybe you should bring our other friends here. You know, spectacular deaths... the more the merrier, right?"

Ara looks down at the giant's feet—if she can even call them that—and sees Nico lying there. She notices the terrible shape he's in, almost pure bones and skin, way too similar to the old mummy they used to keep in the Big House's attic. Seeing him like this brings her no satisfaction.

They won't kill these guys without a god present, but at least she can get Nico out, and that would take away the leverage the giants have on them, and they might have a chance to run. Ara holds Almighty, still as a compass, and waits.

"Hmm... No. It's really too late to change the choreography. But never fear. The circuses will be marvelous! Ah... not the modern sort of circus, mind you. That would require clowns, and I hate clowns."

"Everyone hates clowns," his brother points out. "Even other clowns hate clowns."

"Exactly. But we have much better entertainment planned! The three of you will die in agony, up above, where all the gods and mortals can watch. But that's just the opening ceremony! In the old days, games went on for days or weeks. Our spectacle—the destruction of Rome—will go on for one full month until Gaea awakens."

"Wait," Jason intervenes. "One month, and Gaea wakes up?"

"Yes, yes. Something about August First being the best date to destroy all humanity. Not important! In her infinite wisdom, the Earth Mother has agreed that Rome can be destroyed first, slowly and spectacularly. It's only fitting!"

"So... You're Gaea's warm-up act," Percy continues.

"This is no warm-up, demigod! We'll release wild animals and monsters into the streets. Our special effects department will produce fires and earthquakes. Sinkholes and volcanoes will appear randomly out of nowhere! Ghosts will run rampant."

"The ghost thing won't work—Our focus groups say it won't pull ratings."

"Doubters! This hypogeum can make anything work!"

One of the twins moves to a control board providing Ara with a blind spot. She sneaks in closer, making sure the other twin isn't looking. Piper and Jason see her then, so they do their best to keep the giants's focus on them. Ara seizes Nico's jacket and almost whimpers at how easily she can drag him back, he's too malnourished.

Percy's relief is written all over his face and he turns to the others. "I'm getting tired of this guy's shirt."

"Combat time?" Piper seizes her cornucopia.

"I hate Wonder bread," Jason grumbles.

Ara tries to make Nico come back to his senses. "C'mon Ghost King..." she rummages through her bag and pulls out her bottle of nectar. She tilts the boy's face up and feeds him. "Now's not the time to take your title seriously!"

Nico's eyes open though it takes them a moment to focus. Once he sees it's her, his expression turns into a scowl. "You."

"Happy to see you too," she whispers. "Can you stand?"

Nico tries to get up and slips, so Ara places his arm around her shoulders and carries him to safety. "You'll hide until it's safe to go, got it?"

Nico's reply is a weak grumble, he must be extremely weak if he's not trying to fight her orders. Ara's about to leave when she hears growling, she looks back and finds two leopards slowly approaching.

She shields Nico's body with her own. "Piper, we could use some help here!"

The girl looks back and sees the felines. "Going!"

Her sister runs in their direction and points the cornucopia to the opposite side, a large piece of warm roasted meat flies off and distracts the leopards successfully.

"I miss Seymour," Ara sighs.

"Go help Jason and Percy, I'll watch after Nico."

"Take this," Ara gives her Katroptis back. "Works just as good as that horn you carry."

Piper takes the weapon and keeps feeding Nico small pieces of ambrosia so he can get back on his feet. Ara joins the fight. "Sorry I'm late, Hedge and I were having a great time talking shit about you."

Jason snorts. "Sorry to spoil the fun."

"Don't worry about it," she turns Almighty into a sword. "This will be fun too."

"Hydra! Hydra!" Percy shouts, running towards them.

"Where did that come from?" Ara yelps.

"I set it free!"

"WHAT?"

"The fireworks!"

Ara knows what he's trying to tell her and together they reach the device. 

"Can you—"

"Yes, just make sure it comes to us!" She interrupts him.

Percy gets the Hydra to approach and Ara blows it up with the fireworks, it causes such a mess that they end up blowing up more than expected. They bury one of the twins under rubble.

Ara winces. "That's exactly why I'm not allowed to use explosives..."

Percy frowns. "You design bombs."

"That's different."

"Guys, the controls!" Jason shouts.

"Go, I got your back!" Percy tells her.

Ara runs over and looks at the buttons and levers, but they're not labeled in a way she can understand, she elbows Percy. "Takes too long, just break it!"

Percy cuts the whole thing in half, and a shower of sparks comes out of it. The twin still standing reaches them and Ara stands in front of Percy, turning her sword into a shield and stopping the giant's spear from impaling them.

Jason rushes over after checking up on Piper and Nico. The three of them stand together, but there's not much they can do. The other giant crawls out from under the debris and picks up his weapon, Ara turns Almighty back into a sword.

"What now?"

"We won't give up," Jason states out loud so the giants hear. "We'll cut you into pieces like Jupiter did to Saturn."

"That's right," Percy adds heatedly. "You're both dead. I don't care if we have a god on our side or not."

"Well, that's a shame. I'd hate to think I made a special trip for nothing." There, descending on a small platform, is Baccus. Mr D's Roman version. "Really, Ephialtes, killing demigods is one thing. But using leopards for your spectacle? That's over the line."

"This—this is impossible. D-D—"

"It's Bacchus, actually, my old friend. And of course it's possible. Someone told me there was a party going on."

"You—you gods are doomed! Be gone, in the name of Gaea!"

"Hmm..." The god walks forward staring at everything with disdain. "Tacky. Cheap. Boring. And this... Tacky, cheap, and boring. Honestly, Ephialtes. You have no sense of style."

"STYLE? I have mountains of style. I define style. I—I—"

"My brother oozes style!"

"Thank you!"

"Have you two gotten shorter?" Baccus squints at the pair.

"Oh, that's low. I'm quite tall enough to destroy you, Bacchus! You gods, always hiding behind your mortal heroes, trusting the fate of Olympus to the likes of these."

"Lord Bacchus," Jason shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Are we going to kill these giants or what?"

"Well, I certainly hope so. Please, carry on."

"Didn't you come here to help?" Percy asks.

"Oh, I appreciated the sacrifice at sea. A whole ship full of Diet Coke. Very nice. Although I would've preferred Diet Pepsi."

"And six million in gold and jewels," Percy grumbles.

"Yes, although with demigod parties of five or more the gratuity is included, so that wasn't necessary."

"What?"

"Never mind, At any rate, you got my attention. I'm here. Now I need to see if you're worthy of my help. Go ahead. Battle. If I'm impressed, I'll jump in for the grand finale."

"That's great," Ara's voice is full of sarcasm. "Please do tell us what kind of grand finale you wish to see."

"Ah, good question... Perhaps you need inspiration! The stage hasn't been properly set. You call this a spectacle, Ephialtes? Let me show you how it's done."

They get taken to the center stage of the Colosseum. Ara hadn't been paying attention as she drove around the city, but she does remember seeing this place near the workshop she'd snuck into.

The floor is fixed, and the bleachers too. There is a roof over them to make it comfortable for the people in attendance. There is a box right in the best spot where Baccus, Piper, and Nico are seated, ready to watch the show.

"Next time, Birdy, keep your mouth shut," Percy mutters.

"I'd take the advice if it came from anyone else, but since it's you, I can't take it seriously."

"This is a proper show!" Bacchus speaks from his box, sounding like he's got a microphone on him.

"You're just going to sit there?" Percy demands.

"The demigod is right!" Ephialtes screams. "Fight us yourself, coward! Um, without the demigods."

"Juno says she's assembled a worthy crew of demigods," Baccus smirks. "Show me. Entertain me, heroes of Olympus. Give me a reason to do more. Being a god has its privileges."

The girl locks her eyes with Percy and manages a mocking smile. "Well, if we survive this, I promise to listen more often."

Percy doesn't smile. "Yeah, right."

"Let's get this over with," Jason stands ready.

The giants grab mountains of plaster and toss them over. They jump into the same trench. 

"I'll take Otis again!" Jason shouts. "Or do you want him this time?"

"Which one is Otis?" Ara asks keeping her head down.

"No, no—We attack together," Percy replies. "Otis first, because he's weaker. Take him out quickly and move to Ephialtes. Bronze and gold together—maybe that'll keep them from re-forming a little longer."

"Why not?" Jason manages his own very ironic grin. "But Ephialtes isn't going to stand there and wait while we kill his brother. Unless—"

"Good wind today," Percy points out. "And there're some water pipes running under the arena."

They look at Ara, she sighs and turns Almighty into a bow. "Yeah, fine. My weapon is gold and bronze anyway, I count for two of you."

Jason laughs and Percy grins, it's the first smile he's shown her this entire day, and it does cheer her up a little bit.

"On three?" Jason offers.

"Why wait?" Percy responds.

They run out driven by mad frustration. Percy makes the water pipes explode and Jason tosses Ephialtes backwards giving Ara enough time to get to him.

"Hey, Otis!" Percy screams. "The Nutcracker bites!"

Ara gets to where Ephialtes is and aims an arrow at him. "Hello, cutie! We haven't been properly introduced!"

"Ara Jackson!" He shrieks, struggling to get out from the pool of wet plaster and debris.

"Not the first time I've got giants screaming my name—always an ego booster," Ara shoots and the arrow lands on the giant's left eye. She turns Almighty back into a sword. "I'm such a shitty archer..."

"Argh!" Ephialtes tries to get up, but his snake foot seems to be stuck on something.

"I was pointing at your nostril," she continues while dodging his attacks. "I've learned most monsters have weird soft spots, so the crazier you aim for the more effective it is—like this!"

She cuts the foot that's stuck and Ephialtes shrieks with rage. Her skin glows teal and she opens her palm over the running water making it move faster, not allowing Ephialtes's foot to reform. The giant uses both hands and tries to smack her on the head with his spear. Ara ducks and rolls, she doesn't look at what Jason and Percy are doing, they'll let her know when it's time to retreat.

"You may have ruined my spectacle, but Gaea will still destroy your world!" Ephialtes screeches.

"If it happens, you won't be here to see it."

On queue, the large shadow of the Argo II makes itself present above their heads, and Ara lets out a chortle of relief.

Next Chapter ->

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[flock-talk]

Hello! What can I do to help my birds ( a tiel and a budgie) during severe weather? When it gets bad, I usually move them to the safest room in our house, but I was moreso wondering how I can help keep them calm, whether in their usual locations or while sheltering. They always act really nervous when we have bad storms. Thank you!

Birds are skittish by nature so it’s not something you can easily alter but you can prep the best you can!

You could play recordings of the storm sounds and desensitize them to the individual elements of the storm and emergency protocols. Play the sounds at a low volume and offer treats for hearing it gradually making the volume louder so they’re able to maintain calmness despite the auditory stimuli.

Have a good emergency protocol in place and practice it. Practice moving in to carriers and loading in to the car for evacuation, practice moving under a table to hide from an earthquake, practice moving in to a pillowcase to protect them from smoke inhalation, etc. this way when an actual event occurs they’ll be familiar with the elements of the protocol and be more likely to cooperate in the moment.

In the actual moment it can be helpful to talk to them calmly and have their cage or carrier covered. If it’s not life threatening and just a heavy rainstorm then you may also just want to play the TV a bit louder to help dull out the sudden sounds.

[iiwontgiveuponmilkk]

Prison World

Kai Parker x reader

*not my gif

A/n: Soulmate au. I got this idea from two fanfics I read. Currently unedited with a horrible summary :/

Summary: Y/n can���t control her magic and with her link to Kai it doesn’t take long for the Gemini coven to find her

Word count: 2259

Warnings: none?

*1994*

Y/n never quite understood the tattoo that magically appeared on her rib cage. Just under her breast was the Gemini symbol and the initials MP in oddly neat writing. It was the mark of her soulmate. The tiny marking made her oddly curious. It wasn’t unusual for supernatural beings to have a soulmate mark. In fact, only the supernatural beings got them, but they rarely showed up at the age she received hers. She was only fifteen when it burned itself into her skin. That night was also the first night she discovered that her magic was beyond her control. The loss of her grandmother nearly flooded Mystic Falls. Twice. So of course, it didn’t take long for the Gemini coven to find her in 1994. The coven had discovered Malachai’s mark before sending him to his personal prison world. All they had to do was wait for another cosmic event to send the twenty year old into the prison world as well. 

Arriving in the prison world felt like she had been sent to hell. Y/n was all alone, and incredibly confused. She searched for hours to find someone. She even went home, but no one was there. Y/n had no idea what was happening. Was she dead? Mystic Falls was completely empty. It was just her, all alone. Y/n was so confused and slowly starting to panic. She searched the house, trying to figure out what had happened. When she entered the kitchen, her attention was immediately drawn to the cup of coffee and the morning paper on the table. Her dad always read the paper before work in the morning. She picked up the paper. May 10th. This paper was over a week old. How could she be here? She began to read through the paper. There would be an eclipse today. She looked up at the clock. It was in exactly two hours. 

*1997*

Living in this world was, well, it was hell. Y/n had spent three years alone. At first, she spent her time trying to figure out why this place had been created, who it was for, and why she was here. She had two leads. One in Mystic Falls. Another in Portland. She spent a lot of time in Mystic Falls. Partially to investigate what happened at the Salvatore boarding house, and partially so she could be close to the only thing she had left. Her family home. But eventually she convinced herself to go to Portland. She was terrified of what, or rather who, she might find there. A part of her knew she would find him there the second she connected the dots. Parker family. Portland, Oregon. Massacre. Her mark.  This world had been created by the gemini coven for Joshua’s son. Malachai Parker, her soulmate. That’s why she was here. Her soulmate had killed four of his siblings. Her soulmate mark had gotten her into this hell. She was stuck here to make sure he could never access the real world.

 Y/n had packed her things and was off to Bell’s for snacks. Then it was off to Portland. She found herself racing across the country in a blue camaro, courtesy of a Bell’s customer who left the keys on the dash. She had a road map with her. She had carefully marked the easiest route from Mystic Falls to Portland. Yet she always found herself lost. Y/n kept missing her exits as her mind raced with what was going to happen to her. What would he do to her? He couldn’t kill her. Well, he could, but she would come back when the world reset. She was worried what he could do if he had magic. If he was stronger than her, she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Her four day road trip ended up taking her twice as long. She couldn’t count the number of times she had gotten lost. When she finally arrived in Portland, she pulled into the first gas station she saw. There had to be a map of the town, or at least just the state. She dug through the maps until she found what she was looking for. She began setting up to do a locator spell. She was pulling candles out of her bag when she froze at the sound of the door opening and the bell above it jingling. She slowly stood up, turning to face Malachai. 

“Hi. I’m Kai. I’m a sociopath.” The man smirked at her.

____

When y/n woke up, she was terrified, but nothing was happening. Her magic was gone. She had no idea where she was. The room she was in looked like it belonged to a teenage boy. Y/n turned her attention to herself. Her hair was still wet, but she was in dry clothes. She panicked looking down at the shirt she was wearing. It wasn’t hers, and neither were the sweatpants she was wearing. Had that man changed her clothes? Why did he take her magic? And what did he want with her? Her head was spinning. She had to get out of here. She quietly shuffled to the window and opened it. She tried to pop the screen out, but she had been spelled in. Her heart felt like it was in her throat with how hard it was beating. She slowly made her way to the door, finding that it was unlocked. She was hoping that she hadn’t been spelled into the room, and luckily she hadn’t. But that meant she was spelled into the house, and she didn’t have her magic. She slowly moved through the house, trying her best not to make any noise. She was almost down the stairs when the next step loudly creaked. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard footsteps approaching. “G-get away.” She stuttered out. Y/n felt hopeless without her magic. Kai stopped in his tracks, looking at her. He almost found her state comical. He knew he wouldn’t have stopped if he hadn’t seen her soulmate mark. His initials. His handwriting. His “coven”. He put his hands up, sighing almost as if he was annoyed by her behaviour. Y/n stared at this man, her voice caught in her throat. Neither of them moved for what seemed like hours. Finally she spoke up. “Why did you take my magic?” Her voice was quiet and still seemed panicked. “Well, you see, I don’t have any magic of my own. And you seemed to be bursting with it so I thought I’d take some. I know, what an abomination.” He rolled his eyes, but then continued. “Your magic will be back before you know it. You’ll be all juiced up after you rest.” Kai seemed to be bored with her. “You know, I was going to keep you here as a little magic battery, but then i saw your little mark and I had to laugh.” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving her. Y/n felt like she was frozen in place. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. “The universe is so funny. Of course my soulmate would be someone who is overflowing with magic when I don’t have any of my own. And of course my coven would send you here. God, how dumb could they be.”

*2003*

Y/n had come to know Kai in ways that she didn’t think she could. She knew what he had done to his family. He was sent here to be punished for his crimes. She was sent here due to their soulmate mark and bond. She didn’t think she could grow to trust the monster she had met in 1997. She didn’t think she could ever think of him as anything but a monster, but here they were. Kai was making Christmas dinner with her sitting on the counter, and definitely in his way, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Over the past six years, y/n had learned of Kai’s past. How his family treated him for being a siphon, something out of his control. How he was seen and treated as an abomination. How he wasn’t allowed to touch anyone for his entire life. Her heart almost aches for him. A part of her could understand him, but another part, in the back of her head, clung to the fact he had done atrocious and unspeakable things. Yet she still found herself climbing into his bed when she couldn’t sleep, holding his hand when she was starting to lose control, and even almost kissing him on multiple occasions. “You know, I’m starving.” She spoke up, looking up from her book. The aroma in the kitchen was causing her to salivate. “Dinner will be done in thirty minutes. Please don’t get hangry. I’ll have to restart the whole meal if you bring this house down on us.” He joked, causing her to glare at him.

Y/n laughed at the sight before her. Kai asked if he could “borrow” some of her magic to do the dishes. She agreed, knowing it would at least be amusing to watch. And it was. It was also an absolute mess. Kai had dropped multiple dishes, shattering them. Only uttering a small “oops” each time before trying to concentrate on his task. He loved hearing her laugh, and as much as he hated to admit it, he loved being around her. He wasn’t sure why his coven had sent her here, he knew it wasn’t for him. They probably thought locking her away was the only way to make sure he never got out. He stopped wondering why she was here two years ago. That was the first time that he opened up to her. He had chosen to basically ignore her for a long time, but she almost brought a house down on them with an earthquake, crying that she felt so alone and just wished she was dead. He tried to blame the mark for how he felt about her after he started to grow close to her, but he knew that wasn’t true. Some people live their entire lives without finding their soulmate. Some supernatural beings never even got one. Some got them after being alive for three hundred years. It wasn’t the mark, but he just wanted something to blame for these feelings he was having. Kai could barely believe someone could know what he was and not think he was an abomination. But there she was, laughing as he failed at washing dishes with magic.

“You know, I got you something for Christmas.” Y/n mumbled, pressed to his side and wrapped in a blanket with him. They were sitting outside, star gazing. Y/n had wanted to sit outside and look at the stars every Christmas night. Last year, she finally told Kai that her and her parents used to do this every Christmas after everyone had finally left to go home. “I thought you said no presents?” He asked, lightly squeezing her to his side. “We both know what I said and what I meant are two different things.” She laughed, pulling herself away from him. She reached into her sweater pocket, handing him a small box that was delicately wrapped in red paper with green ribbon and a bow. Kai took it from her, opening it carefully. She watched him, almost impatiently. He could tell; the closer they got, the stronger their bond seemed to be. He opened the small decorative box to find a black velvet ring box. He smirked, cracking the box open. There was a silver ring with a hollowed line around the band. “Are you asking me to marry you?” He asked, making her laugh. “Oh god, Kai. It’s a present, not a marriage proposal. Besides that’s your job.” Y/n rolled her eyes, glaring at Kai in a playful way. He laughed and slipped it onto his middle finger before he reached into the pocket of his jeans. “I didn’t wrap it, but I did get you something.” He told her as he pulled a delicate necklace out of his pocket. He put the necklace on her without giving her a chance to look at it. He brushed her hair out from under the chain as she picked the pendant up off her chest, admiring it. There was a (f/c) gemstone in the middle surrounded by an elegant halo of diamonds. It was small, but beautifully full of detail. “Thank you.” Y/n whispered.

*2007*

“Malachai Parker! If you’re joking right now, I will kill you.” Y/n said, staring down at Kai who was down on one knee, holding a ring in his hand. “I’m not, y/n! God! Will you marry me or not?!” She could feel how nervous he was. His energy seemed to be pulsing through her, almost making her nervous. “Stop being so nervous. Of course I will.” She laughed as he jumped to his feet, planting his lips on hers, and kissing her hard. When they finally pulled away for air, Kai rested his forehead against hers before grabbing her hand. He slid the ring onto her ring finger before kissing her again.

[kashimos-hajime]

Far From Home | b.b.

summary: Bucky Barnes hates you. You play music too loud in the morning, you’re cold and closed off, you’re selfishly selfless, you confuse the hell out of him—the list could go on and on. He hates you, but when you go missing, he can’t stop himself from spending every waking hour trying to find you. What was that old saying? A fine line between hate and love? Yeah, Bucky walks that line like a man who’s had three beers too many.

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of addiction, vomit, angst, y’all HATE each other fr pairing: bucky barnes x stark!sister reader word count: 10.9k

a/n: written for @wkemeup​​​ and @captain-kelli​​​ who both achieved follower milestones!! congratulations, you two! :) both prompts are bolded below. enemies to lovers who are still enemies here we go! song inspo is far from home (the raven) by sam tinnesz

“How long?”

“Seventy three hours since last contact. Fuck, Steve. Where is she?”

“I don’t know. Last I saw of her was the party but for all we know she’s just sleeping in.”

“No. My sister is not a party animal. She would’ve called me. She knows to call me.” Beep. “What am I looking at, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Last known footage of Ms. Stark. She signed some autographs in Miami before departing for an unknown location.”

The air is frigid as the room goes quiet.

Steve speaks first. “Tony—”

Who’s gonna tell Barnes?”

A beat.

“We can’t tell him. We don’t even know if she’s missing or not.”

Bucky stops at the edge of the entrance, his ears pricked as he presses himself against the wall. Tilting his head to the door, he waits for someone to say something.

“I’m telling you that she is. I know in my heart that there is something wrong and I say that she has been captured, or injured, and that she might be scared and Barnes…” A bitter, cold, laugh that sounds more like a scoff. “He’s not going to stop until he gets her back. I don’t know about you but I don’t want some brainwashed super soldier killing everyone just because he didn’t have the balls to—”

“You can’t say that, Tony. She’s gonna show up.”

“Shut up, Steve. She would’ve found some way to call me. That girl never has her phone on 0%. She doesn’t go off the grid. This is Y/N, not some bimbo who doesn’t know better than to call her brother.”

“She isn’t a kid.”’

“She is to me! She is a kid. She is the little sister I have failed over and over to protect so why don’t you shove that little righteous speech about how she’s a grown woman up your ass.”

“Except you’re not treating her like the adult she is. You know she can take care of herself.”

Bucky can hear Tony’s soft inhale, feel the intensity of the man’s glare directed at Steve. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but a twitch of muscle would be enough to alert both men that he’s here. With the amount of tension crackling in the air, a brush against the wall would be equivalent to a thousand cymbals crashing in cacophony.

“Tony, Afghanistan wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have changed what the Ten Rings did, to you or to her. You’re not responsible for that.”

“Someone has to be. Who put her there, huh?”

“Tony—”

“You know what, I’m gonna try the London center, and go by her cabin.”

“Tony, wait—”

A door slams shut. It rattles Bucky’s bones and he swallows down the bruising in his throat as he closes his eyes, tilting his head back until it knocks into the metal walls. Missing. You, missing, and suddenly his chest is heavier than mountains. He feels like he could drown in his own blood, like every rib in his chest is breaking.

“Buck,” Steve calls, and he opens his eyes to a sting of cold air. Something tastes like iron in his mouth as he pushes off the wall and enters the room. Steve is standing there, his fingers pressed against the table as he continues to stare at the door Bucky assumes Tony left through.

“Who said she’s missing?” Bucky asks roughly in a way he hopes sounds unaffected. Steve’s eyes drag towards him, his blue eyes wide like a puppy and Bucky narrows his own gaze. “You know how she gets when she’s pissed.”

“Yeah. I wish she was more like Tony that way,” Steve sighs, his other hand hooked on his belt. “Buck, I don’t know what to say. You know what’s going on with her?”

“Nope.” His expression twitching, Bucky silently curses as Steve’s eyebrows raise, lips parting. He seems to struggle with what he wants to say and Bucky’s eyes fall to his shoes like a scolded child. Searching the tile, he swallows down the knot in his throat.

“Bucky.”

His head jerks up and he meets his best friend’s gaze defiantly. “Steve.”

“What’d you say to her?”

His lungs feel like they’re about to bust. An urgency tugs at his chest, his gut flipping over as he looks away, at the wall, anywhere except Steve’s curious, insistent gaze.

“Steve, I swear to fucking god I didn’t mean it.” His eyes flutter shut at the memory and he lowers his head in shame, leaning against the table by his hand. Everything inside him lurches and he feels like he’s going to throw up as the sound of you echoes in his head. Fury incarnate, hell freezing over at your voice. “She just told me she was stepping back. I just—” His words catch in his throat, and he can’t continue. Anger and guilt fight within him like starving beasts caged for far too long battling over a juicy flank of deer. The meat of his memory bleeds into his bones. “We had a fight before the party. It just piled up.”

“You couldn’t be coolheaded about this?” Steve asks quietly and Bucky looks at him with a terrible devil lurking in his gaze. No one has ever known—especially Tony, especially Steve. No one knows. “She’s the only person I’ve ever seen you lose your temper on, Buck.”

“You’d be surprised by what she brings out in me,” he muses flatly, that terrible thing melting into his voice. A bitter twitch to his mouth, he looks up and thinks of all the places he thinks you would go to, just to spite him. Pulling out his phone, he half-hopes to see some message from you, even if it is a drunk text. You off the rails is better than you going dead silent.

The cabin in the woods. London. Miami.

Something inside of Bucky aches for release—aches to put a hole in the wall just to feel something other than pain, rage, hate, hate, hate.

“You’re her friend,” his blond, Captain America, broad-shouldered, symbol-of-America, friend Steve says, because despite what some people think that Steve and Captain America are two different personas, there will always be parts of Steve in the Avenger, and parts of the Avenger in Steve. They both want to believe in something good. They are, after all, one in the same.

Just as how Bucky and the Winter Soldier are the same man despite everything. HYDRA simply amplified the hate, fertilized the seeds of rage, curated the quiet thunder within his soul, within James Buchanan Barnes so that the Winter Soldier could thrive.

He has spent more than half his life believing the Starks are the enemy, and half of his waking moments, wondering if it’s true. Whenever he looks at Tony, he sees Howard—the title FRIEND crossed out with violent strokes, ENEMY written in blood. Whenever he looked at you, he felt something that walked a fine line.

“We barely tolerated each other.” Bucky brushes it off, pocketing his phone and turning away. He doesn’t want to think about your damned starlight eyes that sparked with rebellion, the rope of hair you always had pulled back in a ponytail, the smear of oil, the smudge of dirt, the raw scratch of your nails. Something so primal, unadulterated ecstasy.

It was the effect of you on his mind, his body.

“That’s not what Tony thought.” Steve’s words crawl after him as he turns to walk out of the room and Bucky pauses at the silence that follows. He knows Steve well enough to know when he wants to keep going. “What is it?”

“What I said?”

“No. Buck,” Steve sighs, his name echoing coldly against metal walls. Bucky turns to see him, nearly glaring daggers, “what is it between you and her?”

Anger. Grief. Hate. Lust.

“Nothing.” Bucky shrugs despite how much it feels like there’s a thousand pound weights on his shoulders. “If she ran away without telling Stark, he’s gonna be insufferable about it, but that’s not on me.”

“So you think there’s nothing to worry about.” Bucky turns to Steve who crosses his arms, leaning against the edge of the table. His eyebrows are still raised—he wants an honest answer.

If Bucky were an honest man, he would’ve told Steve everything since the beginning, but he hasn’t and he isn’t, and Bucky does not want to hide things from Steve, but he will always make and has always made exceptions for you.

“I’ll worry when there’s something to worry about.” Steve doesn’t believe him, and Bucky chews on his cheek, stepping back into the room. There’s something he has to prove to Steve, something that isn’t even real, and Bucky feels a million pairs of eyes bearing into his back. I will not slip, I will not slip, I will not slip. “Look, she can take care of herself. She’ll show up because someone picked a fight with her and lost, and then she’ll be fine.”

“Bucky. Come on.” Steve’s trying to appeal to the kindness in his heart but Bucky doesn’t have room for it with all the unbridled fear that lurks in his chest. It carves out a home in his ribs, sits on every crevice of his sternum, sinks its teeth into his flesh. He’s terrified even though he doesn’t show it: he can’t. He can’t. “You’re not even a little bit worried?”

“Nope.”

“Well, you can’t act like you don’t care when you care more than anyone.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what was London?” The protesters. “São Paulo?” The earthquake. “Vancouver?” Freezing cold water.

“Look, I care if Stark’s gonna run us over trying to find her. I care enough because she’s part of our team. Come off it, Steve. I know she can take care of herself. I’m gonna take a nap. Dr. Cho said no partying post-Singapore and what do you know, we throw the biggest party ever.” Stiff to the bone, he puts on a smile. “See you in a bit, pal.”

Steve sighs, and the sound follows him like a ghost as Bucky leaves the conference room. His flesh fingers curl into a fist and his nails dig in hard enough he draws blood as he walks the halls, the paths engraved into his head. He takes the longest route to his room, tries to scatter his thoughts of the words shackled with fury.

He walks past your room on the way to his and he does not spare it a glance as he walks into his room and turns on the tap. The water runs copper and the sting bites at his palm as he tries not to think. Tries to focus on the numbing cold that runs over his skin.

Don’t worry. I won’t.

It’s all he does now—worry. It consumes his mind as he stares at his own reflection and curses the way his eyes seem to shimmer from cold predator to docile prey. They are always at war within him. It wasn’t until he met you that he realized it was okay to be both.

.

The first time Bucky meets you, he is unkempt, exhausted, and probably smells of old laundry. Black moons are printed underneath his eyes and he doesn’t remember what the light looks like as he stares blankly at the wall, at the curtains drawn over windows. He hasn’t eaten in the past few days and neither has he spoken. He’s tossed and turned on his bed, his mind still hyper fixated, his blood still congealed in his veins. He’s too exhausted to get out of a room he’s been stuck in for the past seventy two hours.

It’s been two months since Steve brought him back here. Two months and he’s still so fucking tired.

“Buck,” said friend begins and Bucky doesn’t make a sound to give any indication he’s heard. He has a pillow shoved between his head and arm, staring at the analog clock that reads 3:29 PM. “I’m coming in, okay?” He closes his eyes, preparing himself for the inevitable stream of light that’s about to blind the shit out of him and he burrows his face into the pillow. The door slides open.

He can hear Steve take in a sharp breath at the state his room’s in. There are clothes strewn everywhere and the meals that’ve been sent up are lined up on the top of his dresser, untouched, and Bucky wishes he were asleep to avoid a confrontation he knows is coming. It always happens when Steve wants him to suck it up and get out in a gentle way, but this time, Bucky can’t scrub off the blood on his hands long enough to enjoy the fact that he’s alive.

Nah. All he can remember is every bullet fired, every news headline, every pair of eyes that have ever looked at him like he’s a monster. Beast. Feral.

“You gotta get up, Buck. Pull yourself outta this slump.”

“I don’t want to.” His voice is foreign, a terrible, growling thing that pushes out of his throat uncomfortably. “I’m tired.”

“Tony’s sister’s back from Somalia, and he went to the airport to pick her up.” Steve continues, walking around the room to clean up. He begins to fold clothes and throw dirty ones into the basket in the corner of his room before walking into the bathroom. Turning on the lights, he starts rooting around for something. “Gotta make a good first impression.”

“Why should I care?” He rolls over away from the light as Steve flushes the toilet and turns on the vent. It smells musty, the air thick with not enough oxygen and too much old. Bucky lifts his head from his pillow, squinting against the pale light of his bathroom.

“Because Tony loves his sister more than life itself and she’s great. You’re gonna like her.”

“If she’s anything like Stark, I doubt it,” he grumbles, letting his face fall back to the pillow for two more seconds before rolling onto the edge of the bed and sitting up. His head spins and black dots impede his vision as he rubs at his eyes blearily. Blood rushes down his body and he lets out a groan when his muscles stretch in his back.

“That’s the spirit, Buck,” Steve says. Bucky gets up on unsteady legs, his feet strangely stiff against the floor. “We’ve got some leftovers from lunch that you can have but first just get a bit cleaned up. Wash your face, brush your teeth. Promise you’ll feel a lot better.” Bucky’s lips twitch into an almost-smile but it fades just as soon as he realizes he has to look at himself in the mirror in the bathroom.

“Yeah.”

Steve nods, heading for the door. “I’ll heat up those leftovers.”

“Thanks.”

As a parting gift, Steve sets the lights in the room on a dim setting just for him. Bucky lumbers over to the bathroom and switches on the shower, the hiss of the water running white noise for his aching head. When he steps in, he just stands under the pelting hot rain, letting it wash away the oil in his head, the feeling of wearing someone else’s skin melting just a fraction.

He doesn’t know what to expect, but he does figure making a first impression is key.

He runs his fingers through his hair, scrubs the smell of sleep off his skin, and trims his beard until he’s happy enough with how it looks before changing into new clothes. He almost feels like new as he leaves his room. He tucks his hair behind his ears, walking mindlessly, just enjoying the languid stretch and bunch of his muscles.

Eventually he makes it to the kitchen, sliding into one of the stools on the island. Steve’s just taking some glass container out of the microwave when he spots his best friend.

“Hey. Spaghetti and meatballs.” Sliding it over to Bucky, he also hands over a fork and Bucky stabs at the spaghetti. His stomach rumbles at the smell and thought of eating, but he still doesn’t feel hungry enough. He feels weak. Tired. He wants to go back to bed but he also wants to stay out in the sun for a few hours more. The sun kisses his skin through the windows and he squints against the blue sky, wondering.

“Thanks.” Turning his gaze back to the leftovers, he twirls a fork into the spaghetti just as the sound of F.R.I.D.A.Y. overhead catches their attention. He looks to Steve who’s drying a mug with a towel and he shrugs. Bringing a bite into his mouth, Bucky swallows with a relieved sigh as Steve sets down the cup and towel, heading out of the kitchen to meet their visitor.

Biting into a meatball, Bucky feels something uneasy in him coil around him tight. He knows he’s in no shape to meet new people but he’s not going to be rude about it. Practicing a smile, it feels awkward on his lips but he can’t do a thing about it as he tries to think of what to say. He knows about you from what he’s heard Stark say about you and his own digging on his teammates. You have your own Wikipedia page and everything, just like your brother, and he knows it’s an extensive article.

Just be polite. Be yourself. A voice inside him is telling him things he should know but instead, another thought whispers, But what is ‘yourself’? You barely know who you are.

“I’m tired. Guess that’s to be expected but it’s fine.” He hears you before he sees you. Bucky pretends to be as casual as he can as he listens to the four sets of footsteps approach the kitchen. He ducks his head, focusing on the spaghetti and trying to fill up his stomach to stop the uncomfortable growl that’s rumbling inside. “It’s good to see you.”

“A year is too long,” he can hear Steve say and he arches an eyebrow. Miss her that much? Bucky doesn’t want to think about it. He’s only been back two months, and it’s already hard readjusting to his own new life, not to mention Steve’s new one too. “Let me help you with your bags.”

“Thanks. Is Jenny around?”

“Girl misses you.” Stark. “It’s been hard without her sponsor, but we’ve, or more I, kept her on track. God, is this what it’s like to raise a teenage daughter?”

Sponsor. Huh.

“It’s what it’s like to sponsor a teenager who thinks she knows everything, so you’ll have half the challenge.”

“Oh, great. Hopefully, they’ll be more like Pepper.”

“I’m hoping for that, too.” Ms. Potts is here, too. Bucky pauses to listen for the telltale clicks of her heels, and when he does, he resumes eating. He’s seen her once or twice, and it’d been made clear she wouldn’t judge him for his state when she’s seen everything with Tony. That eases some of the burden from his shoulders.

“Thank you, guys. I hate leaving her here alone.”

“She’s a strong kid, Y/N,” Steve says. “Just like you.”

“Don’t suck up to my sister, Rogers. She’s been back for all of two minutes.”

Agreed. If she’s so great, just plant a kiss on her, Steve. God knows you’re the better of us now.

He raises his head just in time to see Steve enter with bags hoisted on his shoulders and a giant smile on his face. Following after is Stark in a pristine suit, not a crease in sight, and the man gives him a quick inspection before he pulls off his sunglasses and folds them, slipping them into his breast coat pocket.

“You want something to eat, G.I. Jane?” Stark asks, pulling aside and that’s when Bucky finally sets his eyes on you. His back goes stiff as he straightens up and Steve barely hides his smile as he sets down your bags. You stand there, holding on to Pepper Potts’ arm when the smile on your face fades as soon as their eyes meet. His eyes rake over your face and your body—black eye, split lip, no sleep, field uniform. They must’ve just pulled you out and by the way you try not to heavily lean onto the woman beside you, it’s medical related. Still, there’s a glint to your eye, a hunger, and he’s not blind enough to not realize you aren’t one of the most attractive people he’s ever seen.

“I’m good,” you reply, your voice no longer as light as it was. Instead, it sounds masked, fake, and Bucky nearly frowns before forcing a smile onto his face. You sound like your brother, and if Bucky wasn’t just as good at lying to oneself as you think you are, maybe he wouldn’t have noticed. It’s like you’ve donned on a façade, a personality the media loves to eat up. He can read it in the eyes. It hasn’t seemed that way but the few times he’s been out with the rest of them, he’s seen the effortless switch Stark can make between Tony Stark and just Tony. “Uh, care to introduce me?”

Right. He’s forgetting himself.

Bucky slides off the kitchen stool, quite sure that there’s no spaghetti sauce on his lip, and you soak in his haggard appearance, an appearance you seem to mirror.

“Hi,” he says, sticking out a hand but you only look at him, unimpressed. His fake smile falters but he still keeps on despite how uncomfortable this situation is getting. “I’m Bucky.”

“Oh, right.” Your voice is flat, uninterested, cold, as you stare at him. “You killed my parents.”

Shit.

“Right, anyway,” Pepper cuts in before Tony, Steve, or Bucky can say anything. “We should be going to bring her to her room. Tony, would you…” The CEO nudges her head in the way of you and he perks up, sliding into his wife’s place and looping an arm through yours. The two leave the kitchen, heads bowed together and Pepper grabs the bags.

“I’m sorry about that,” she says, eyes focused on Bucky. “It’s been a hard year, and—”

“It’s fine,” Bucky murmurs, turning to sit back down. His stomach growls and he grabs the fork, stabbing a meatball.

“Well, I’m glad to see you, Mr. Barnes,” Pepper adds softly, and she sends a smile his way before hoisting the bags up. “See you later, Steve.”

“Yeah.”

The woman leaves, and Bucky swallows, the lump of meat sitting like rocks in his gut.

“She hates me,” he says flatly and Steve looks at him with a gentle smile—a smile he doesn’t deserve.

“She holds grudges. She’s like Tony that way and he forgave you, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” Bucky sighs, looking down at his spaghetti just as Steve comes around the kitchen island, claps him on the back. “But I don’t think she’s like Tony.”

“Eat up. She’ll come around.”

.

You didn’t come around. Bucky thinks you never did as he leaves his room and stares at the one just across, to the left of his. How often has he tread the few steps needed to cross the hall and walk into that room often full of music or the sounds of frustrated yells?

Your room is quiet, still as the dead.

You never slept there unless it was mission-related and you needed some sleep, or Bucky really pissed you off. Sometimes it was both.

Pressing his flesh hand against the metal door, he clenches his jaw before letting it slide open with a soft swish. The absent smell of clean laundry and your perfume lingers in the air and he walks in, trying to find any difference between now and the last time he was here.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., when was the last time she was here?” he asks aloud.

“Four days ago. The last recorded entry was just before her disappearance but she has asked me to delete all footage concerning her on that night.”

“But you kept it?”

“Mr. Stark implemented a protocol Ms. Stark is unaware of. Should I make a rational call and believe that she is in danger, I am programmed to save any and all evidence that could be vital in securing her.”

“Then why haven’t you brought this to Tony?”

“Ms. Stark has coded in her own loophole in my program that Mr. Stark is unaware of. It prevents me from releasing any information that may compromise Ms. Stark and any of her activities she would rather keep secret. Like you, for example. Because I am unaware of her motives, I am caught in a bind between my two protocols.”

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Bucky shakes his head, heading into your bathroom and turning on the lights. All of your skincare and soaps are still there, your toothbrush untouched, and there’s a towel still hanging on the rack. Your first-aid kit is still on the counter by the sink, not clasped shut. Nothing here. Backing out, he switches off the lights and crosses his arms over his chest, frowning deeply.

“Did she take anything?” He spins around, eyes passing over your dresser, your closet. “Clothes, makeup, anything?” Walking by your made bed, he catches sight of your workbench and approaches it.

His hands brush over the screen surface and it lights up at the swipe of his fingers. The text lights up along with a login and password and he frowns thoughtfully, pressing a hand against the screen. A line scans his palm and fingers, and his eyebrows rise when it gives him access.

WELCOME BUCKY BARNES

“Run surveillance.”

The screen burns into his corneas as the feed runs and he leans over, watching as you enter the room. You’re still in that tight dress you wore to the party and you’re stuffing clothes into your bag with no rhythm or reason as you root through your dresser, through your closet. Your head isn’t turned to the camera but by the way you’re constantly wiping at your face, he wonders if you’re crying.

The timestamp tells him you took one of your suits home and he swallows when you finally zip up your bags, glancing around to see if you’ve missed something only you know you’re looking for. When you’re satisfied, you rush to the table Bucky stands at now and brings up a file, a keyboard spreading across the surface.

“What is she doing?”

“Analyzing now.”

You want me to find you, right? he wonders to himself. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, of why, and how, and I’m sorry, and he’s starting to feel sick as you plug something into the bottom of your workbench.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. makes a soft hum as she reruns the clip.

“A USB was inserted.”

“What was on it?” Automatically, his hand mimics yours and brushes against a slick black thing. Crouching, he spots the USB plugged in, blended into the metal of your workbench. Your initials are carved into the butt, jagged and so you.

“Scanning.”

Standing up again, he enlarges the surveillance feed. He looks down at your interface, at the suit designs you have saved in your files and mission reports you’ve yet to file. Steve was always on your ass about that before his eyes pass over to the feed again. It’s magnetic the way his eyes follow your movements, the dance of your fingers over an interface.

“It’s a collection of surveillance clips strung together. It appears Ms. Stark had a stalker.” The A.I.’s voice weaves into his ears as another voice streams through the workbench and Bucky frowns when a clip plays just as it does in the video.

“Can you play what she’s watching?”

The clip cuts to another and he looks at the time stamp and location. Three hours earlier.

Miami.

Shit. Bucky closes his eyes. He knows what this is. The audio continues to run and he pushes back, stung. He hears the sound of the slamming door and prays it’s the slam of the door when you walked away from him.

He is not so lucky.

“What the fuck was that?”

He stumbles back at the sound of his voice, his legs hitting the mattress. Bucky falls back, sinking into the bed, sucking in a huge breath as he stares up at your ceiling. You used to project stars onto the ceiling because it made your world so much bigger. He remembers, before everything got so fucking complicated, AKA the past week, he would spend hours next to you, pointing out constellations after he’d fucked you into the mattress.

How much simpler it was, then.

“What? You mean the reason I’m throwing a party in the first place?”

“Yeah. Yeah, the reason you’re throwing a party. This is what it’s for? Not because we just pulled off the fucking impossible?”

Your incredulous laugh: bitter, cold. “I’m allowed to choose I don’t want to do this anymore, Barnes. I’m allowed to fuck someone who isn’t you.”

“That’s not what this is about!”

“Isn’t it? That guy had his hands all over me and you couldn’t help but look like you wanted to punch his lights out. You just happened to want to talk to me the instant we started dancing. Just a coincidence, huh?”

“He is bad news.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do! It’s what you do when you’re sad. You latch onto people you think can give you the same high. It’s not healthy, robin.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are trying to control me? My fucking dad? Newsflash, you’re the guy who killed him and newsflash, he didn’t give two shits about who I really was. You think he saw me and thought I was a person? Fucking saw me as more than his perfect little charity case?”

“Y/N—”

“You have some fucking nerve thinking you have any say in what I decide to do with what life I have left. I’ve spent ten years trying to protect innocent people, and keep this together, but I can’t. I am miserable! I am so alone.” The cry in your voice splits Bucky in two as it did the first time he heard you, so weak, so isolated and little. You were cracking at the seams and he watched as you held yourself together in that room, sucking in a breath. “I am so alone except when I’m with you, and you know how much I hate that? I hate you!”

“I know, robin. I’m right here. Talk to me.”

A quivering breath—Bucky can hear your shaking through your voice as you clear your throat. “I just… I can’t, anymore. I can’t stand you. This needs to end, Barnes. I… I need to go after what I want, even if it means stepping away from this.”

“There are people who need you. I can help you—”

“I want a family. Kids, a guy who actually likes me more than my money.” He can imagine the tilt of your head, your ironic smile. His heart wilts at the thought of it. “Can you help me find a guy like that?” Pause. Your chuckle rings bitter. “Knew I wouldn’t be able to find it here.”

“So, this isn’t enough for you.”

Crackle. The audio cuts so quietly that Bucky almost thinks the footage has shorted but then he hears your voice, and he knows it’s not over. He can still replay the scene line by line, block by block in his head: straight out of a fucking movie.

“It isn’t.”

“Then, what was Singapore?” Quiet, remorseful, Bucky has never sounded so pitiful. It had been surprising in the moment, but now he only feels the wave of sorrow that slowly fills his lungs.

A moment, three beats of the heart. Bucky can almost imagine your brain turning in that small pause when everything inside his chest collapsed at the revelation that showed itself so clearly. And grief morphs into rage, if it is given the right rot to sink into.

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re lying, because I know you, Y/N. I do know you, and you know me. You know I’m not afraid of you. You want a family? You got one right here.”

“Well, I don’t want this one.”

Ragged breathing. He swore he could hear I don’t want you bouncing off the walls.

Bucky wants to knock himself out to stop himself from hearing this torture, from reliving all the regret that comes down on him in waves but he can’t. He loves the pain that comes with you, the difficulty of knowing you. It has made his every day a welcomed challenge ever since he met you.

“Then what kinda family do you want, huh? Picket fence, apple pie on the weekends?” There is no answer. “Are you so incapable of recognizing what you want that you’ll jump into bed with any guy who shows the slightest bit of decency towards you? Because then you’re just setting yourself up for more hurt when you realize that you are not going to be happy with him.”

“I slept with you, didn’t I?”

In hindsight, Bucky knows it stings more than it did the first time around.

“And you hate me. And you’ll hate whoever you love who isn’t someone like us because he won’t understand the way you want him to. He will never understand you. You’ll hate yourself because you can’t love him the way you want to, the way he will love you, and you don’t deserve your own hate. You deserve better than that.”

“You have no idea what I deserve.”

He has a crystal clear idea of what you deserve. It is more than the world has to offer, it is more than he can ever give you.

“No.” Finality. The swing of a guillotine. Within moments, everything had fractured between you two. “I guess I don’t. I have no idea who you are, or your problems, or anything about your life. I don’t know you at all, so why not let me be honest since we’re complete strangers?” The sarcasm is dripping from his voice and you let out a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh, for the love of—”

“You‘re so terrified of opening yourself up again that the next time a guy hurts you, you’re afraid you’re not gonna make it. But you think you’re so riddled with problems that no one will ever love you. You’re so convinced that you’re unlovable.” Recording-Bucky pauses, watching your reaction. “Even though it’s not true.

“Yes, it is.”

“I don’t want to tell you for the billionth time that any guy would be lucky to have even a scrap of your attention, robin. I don’t want to keep telling you when you don’t even try to believe it. So, tell me, how are you gonna find your ‘dream man’ if you think you’re unlovable? Is he just gonna fly into your lap like a fucking angel? Do you even know what you’re looking for?” He waits, then: “I thought so.”

You exhale sharply, and it’s bitter against the roof of his mouth as delicate, fake niceties wave their way into your words. “You know what? I’ll figure it out without you, and I didn’t throw a party to be attacked by the one person who’s supposed to have my back. You don’t have to be happy for me, but you could’ve at least sucked it up and held yourself back from ruining my night. I’m leaving, whether you like it or not. Good luck with your new partner, Barnes.”

Fading clicks of heels that stop at his words.

“Oh, so now you’re walking away because I’m right?”

“Oh, no, I’m not walking away from your incessant need to be right. I’m walking away from you.” There is a moment of silence, as if to grieve what has come to pass, and when you speak again, you’re so incredibly sad that Bucky’s heart is in shambles in his chest. His lungs weep, his ribs ache, and he rolls onto his side, eyes closed as he lets the sound of words he still remembers wash over him. “You’re ridiculous. You know that right?” You laugh again, except it’s colder, more incredulous and shackled with sadness. He wishes he didn’t know you so well. “You’re fucking transparent.”

Echoing footsteps.

“If you walk away now, don’t bother coming back!”

Silence. Bucky can hear his own strained breathing, your soft sigh as you soaked in his ultimatum.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

The door slams shut.

Bucky tells F.R.I.D.A.Y. to shut off the workbench and simply lays there on your bed for he doesn’t know how long.

He thinks he will simply shatter should he put his foot on the ground again.

.

You're cold, arrogant, and smarter than almost everyone in the room and you know it. You own it, and if Bucky didn’t hate that kind of person who thinks she’s better than anyone just because she’s rich, he’d admire both you and your beauty.

But you are rich, and entitled, and absolutely, in some way or another, the worst. You’re worse than your brother, spiteful, and quick to anger, but that might be because you hate Bucky in particular. That’s fine. Bucky doesn’t particularly have an inclination to be your friend either. In fact, he’d rather you stay away to avoid any clashes that have barely been prevented by your off-hand comment of him not being worth the energy and his talent for ignoring you despite how you get his blood boiling.

Unfortunately, your room is right across the hall from his, and what he gets out of you is a passing glance full of spite every morning to really start his day. Sometimes, he sees you and you’re on the phone or in the gym, running drills with Tony in the air, or just flat out ignoring him, but most of the time, you’re not even at the compound, and Bucky prefers this the most.

He supposes passive loathing is better than you, with your unlimited resources, actively trying to ruin his life. He can’t help but match your level of dislike when you blast music in the mornings and your rain noises at night.

He’s woken up to your music to shout at you to turn it down every day you’ve raised it above a decent limit, but you simply ignore him, close the door on his face, and emerge thirty minutes later for your morning jog.

Bucky can’t go back to sleep after, so he has no choice but to socialize with whoever’s awake at six in the morning who turn out to be Steve and Sam Wilson. He joins their gym competition, welcomes the stretch and pull of muscles in the early hours to wake himself up despite how hard it is to get his body to pull itself out of bed. Steve likes that he’s out of his room more often, anyway, so he supposes he should be grateful for small blessings, even if he doesn’t show it.

Whenever Steve brings it up, Bucky shoots back he can’t go back to his room because there is no existence of peace or quiet.

It’s on one such a morning that he’s standing outside, listening to the beginnings of some seventies jam pound through the walls, that he reminds himself of this fact.

“Open up, Stark!” he yells, telling himself if you don’t answer, he’s gonna pound that door down. “I’m not gonna ask again.” Something shuffles inside and he frowns, leaning in closer to try to listen in on the muffled voices before it swings open and he jerks back, face settling in a scowl his muscles are trained to do every time he sees you.

“What?” Your voice is sharper than the sharpest blade as you glower at him and the sight of you burns itself into its irises. He knows you’re put together. That’s the mask you like to put up—you’re a Stark, you have to be. Rarely has he ever seen your brother a mess around people he doesn’t know, but now you appear before him. You’re pale, in the clothes he’d seen you wear the night before, and everything about you reminds him of something fading away as you wait for him to speak.

“Are you alright?” he asks stiffly, and you merely stare at him blankly for a moment as if you were going to answer truthfully before the sound of someone throwing up catches both of their attention. Turning around, you disappear into your room, and Bucky stands outside awkwardly, waiting. The music is still blasting but he realizes it’s one he recognizes. Trouble Man of a soundtrack of the same name. Sam always recommends it to him whenever he mentions something even remotely related to music.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Come on, just get it out.” The sound of your voice, smooth and warm, draws him in and he tentatively walks into your room, eyes scanning his surroundings. Another bout of retching draws him to the bathroom where he sees a pair of legs sprawled over the tile. You hold a girl by her arm, the other scooping her hair behind her head.

“Glad to hear you’ve begun to wake at a decent hour, Barnes,” you comment without turning your head away from the girl hunched over your toilet seat. Finally, she pulls back and collapses against you, and you grab at a rag above your head hanging on the countertop and pat at her forehead. “Get her into bed.”

“No…” the girl moans, legs curling underneath her as she pulls into a ball. Bucky’s eyes widen. She looks so small. “Don’t wanna move.”

“It’s alright, darling. He’s gonna carry you.” Your eyes find his again and he walks in, crouching by her waist. “On three.” Bucky’s hands scoop underneath her knees and the other goes underneath her back as you grab the trashcan and stack of towels.

“One, two, three.” With a gentle yet hasty lift, the girl is hoisted into the air and transported onto the bed. Bucky backs up as soon as she’s down and you rush in beside him. You begin to tuck her into bed, your movements practiced, and Bucky is struck with the realization.

“This is Jenny,” he breathes, and you turn to him, eyes narrowed. “What do you need me to do?”

“Get a basin, fill it with cold water, and more trash bags.” Nodding, he turns back to the bathroom, opening the cabinet beneath the sink to pull out a plastic basin. “Fuck, Jen. It’s okay, let it all out.” Over the stream of water, he pricks his ear to the sound of a sob-wrecked voice.

“‘M sorry, Y/N. Just wanted to feel better.”

“I know.”

“It was so hard.”

“I know. Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you came to me, okay?” Turning off the sink, he walks back to the bed and sets the basin by your feet before procuring some trash bags and setting them by the trash can as well. You’re leaned over, dotting the girl’s brow as he takes the moment to look around your room. It’s messy, a mess of clothes and bags strewn everywhere, books on tables, forgotten cups, but it’s organized. He can see it. “Get some sleep, okay? You’re gonna feel pretty fucking shitty over the next few weeks.”

“I know.” Bucky’s gaze drags back to you as you pull back on your heels, standing up straight. Your eyebrows are drawn together still as you pull the covers up to the girl’s chin. Wiping at your own forehead with the back of your hand, you nearly back up into him and he holds out his hands to prevent you from bumping into him.

The instant his fingers make contact with your back, you whip around like a startled deer.

“You,” you breathe, sounding strangely spooked and he backs up, hands where you can see them. You swallow and the fear in your eyes washes away when you blink. Clearing your throat, you try to make yourself seem more presentable with a swipe of hair out of your face, a clearing of your throat, but he doesn’t know why it matters.

“Is she going to be okay?” he asks with a quick glance at Jenny who’s slipped away already. You brush past him, turning down the music from your phone, plucking a hoodie from a hook on the wall and jerking your head for him to follow.

“She’ll be fine.” Opening the door, you lean against the wall outside as Bucky steps into the pale, luminescent lights. It’s much cooler outside, the blue making the metal look cold as you pull on the hoodie and cross your arms over your chest.

You’re wearing an AC/DC hoodie, and Bucky counts himself lucky he hasn’t woken up to that yet. He gets enough from Stark blasting it as they take the quinjet on missions.

“Close the door a bit,” you say, but everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like an order. Still, Bucky complies before looking at you blankly. He’s come to expect nothing but hostility from you, and instead, you look almost relieved. “Don’t tell Tony why I brought her here. She texted me last night in the city and I had to pick her up.”

“I thought she was getting better,” Bucky says and you scowl. He knows you don’t like what he’s implying but he keeps his tone cool, even. “Stark took care of her the year you were gone, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, but she was lying.”

“To Iron Man?” It takes guts, and a whole lotta skill. Bucky narrows his eyes at you, but you stand upright, unafraid to stare back. Normally, a passing glance causes recruits to scatter, but you merely let the cold slide off of you. “What kinda kid does that?”

“She’s an addict. Addicts are good at lying, Barnes, for whatever reason they have.” You fiddle with your phone in your hand before uncrossing your arms and looking at the screen. “Fuck. It’s seven, already?”

“Miss your morning jog?” he retorts half-heartedly, and you shoot him a glare, pocketing the device and brushing past him.

“Yeah, actually. I had more important things to worry about.” Letting the door click shut behind you, he listens to you shuffle around inside your room, presumably cleaning up and goes back into his room with a slam.

At lunch, you come down to grab an extra bowl of stew for Jenny and Bucky offers to make up your run with one together in the evening as he hands you a bowl he’s ladled with extra beef and carrots. You tell him you’re busy and brush him off without a second look back.

“And Jenny?” he asks lowly, but you merely shoot him a look that tells him to shut up.

“I can take care of her myself,” you growl softly, snatching the bowl and disappearing through the doorway. Tony makes a comment about grudges, Steve doesn’t say a word.

Before he heads to bed, Bucky hears you whispering tired phrases over the sound of Jenny throwing up again and lets himself in. You’re in too big clothes that nearly swallow your frame and you’re exhausted as you run a hand down Jenny’s back who dry heaves until she collapses against the tub. You reek of coffee and Bucky wrinkles his nose at the smell of acid and regurgitated beef stew, watching your limp hand flush the toilet.

“Are you sure I can’t help?” he asks, and you glance up, eyes barely open. Lips curving down, you shake your head and fight to stay awake as Jenny curls into a ball against the tile. Your arms are propped up on your knees and your head dips as you let out a sigh.

“Get out,” you whisper. Bucky frowns, soaking in your words before stepping inside. He ignores your stink eye as he scoops up Jenny again, bringing her to your bed, and he lays her down, pulling the covers to her chin. A stale glass of water and an empty bowl lay on the bed stand while his foot kicks into the first aid kid tucked underneath the bed.

Turning to the bathroom, his feet barely make a sound against the floor as he spots you frozen in your spot, head dipped.

Bucky doesn’t need to be a super soldier to know you’re fast asleep. Crouching, he listens to your steady breathing, the soft mumbles under your breath and he gently pokes your arm.

“Wake up,” he whispers and you jolt awake, your back ramming hard against the cupboard with a painful gasp. Your leg jerks back, your knee to your chest and he flinches back, hands raised just as your foot collides with his solar plexus. The air pushed out of his lungs, he slams back into the tub with a painful slam, and he sucks in a huge breath, clutching his chest. “Fuck—”

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Your breathing is jagged, your chest heaving. Within your eyes, he sees something wild flare behind your irises and he sinks into the floor, slouched against the tub.

“Okay,” he replies, quiet. He doesn’t want to wake Jenny up and the only sound is your desperate breaths, your hiccuping sighs. Your eyes are still wild, and you stare at him with an open fear he has not seen ever reside in your gaze. “Y/N—”

“Get out,” you whisper harshly between your teeth. He can tell it takes all your courage not to scream, your whole body taut with the urge to run. He stands up slowly, hands open so you can see his every movement. “Get out.”

“I’m going.” Leaving the room slowly, he feels your stare burn into your back and there’s a clatter of something against the floor tile. The sound of whales humming ushers him out and the door slams shut behind him as soon as he’s out the door. There’s a ravenous hole inside him, devouring him in bit by bit the longer he stands outside your door, and his judgement gets the better of him as he turns around with the deepest sigh.

Pressing his ear against the door, he closes his eyes and tries to listen past the whale crooning but he can’t. Besides, it settles on his skin uneasily—a thick coat of oil and discomfort that traps him in. He returns back to his room and doesn’t sleep right away as he usually does.

He’s breaking habits around you, whether he likes it or not. Pulling out a notebook Steve bought for him a few days after he found him, he picks a pen from his small collection, and begins to write.

.

“You haven’t seen her?” Bucky asks, running a hand through his hair. On the other end of the phone, Jenny makes a small noise that tells him no.

“Not since the last meeting. She was fine, but she looked tired. That’s all.” Flipping over the sleek USB in his hand, Bucky runs a thumb along your initials and sighs. “You… you don’t think—”

“If she went off the tracks, there would’ve been warning signs,” he assures her quietly. “We know that. No McDonald’s, no spending spree, no random gifts.” Leaning against the rails of the compound, he looks at the crowd of news reporters outside. Tony has a press conference in half an hour.

It’s been two days since the Avengers social media accounts released a statement regarding a mission you’ve gone off to. It’ll buy them time without anyone expecting you, but as always, the media is questioning what mission, where, why, how. They want all the details.

“Completely off the grid operation,” Steve had offered. Tony agreed for lack of a better idea. The man was out of his mind, eye bags Bucky had seen frequently drag at your eyes brushing his face.

“Did she ever tell you anything about a stalker?” He dips his chin to look at his cleaned boots. There’s still a mud scuff on the toe from his walk through the woods earlier to clear his head of you, but it’s nothing a few swipes with a towel can’t fix.

“No, why?” Jenny’s voice twinges and Bucky sighs again. He doesn’t have enough energy to breathe these days when it’s all spent on trying to find clues of what you’ve left behind. “At the last AA meeting, she talked about Afghanistan. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her talk about it around a bunch of people she doesn’t know.”

“She went into detail?”

“Not too much. Just ended with what she always says.”

“‘You can’t wait for someone to fly underneath you and save your life. I think you have to save yourself.’” As Bucky quotes it, he can hear your voice saying it, cold, dead, ravaged by tears you’ve never stopped unleashing. God, it was one of your go to excuses for ignoring help even when he thought you needed it. It infuriated him—it made him respect you, anyway. “Well, she can fly alright.”

“Yeah. It was her go to thing to say whenever I wallowed in my self-pity, and decided enough was enough. I always thought she was the worst person I’ve ever met.”

“You probably know far worse,” Bucky replies distantly. You know me. “But she did something right. You’re okay, now.”

“I only wish I could’ve helped her somehow,” she says. “Since the day I met her… hah, she was an angry person, Bucky. And lonely, and sad. And she never counted on anyone. Never asked for a thing for herself. Never trusted anyone except herself.” For a moment, Jenny doesn’t say anything despite him knowing she has something on her tongue. Bucky’s flesh hand wraps around the pole, feeling it cool against his hot palm. “That changed when she met you.”

Liked. Was. As if you are dead and he has failed you. As if they’ve ripped off every tooth and claw off of you, drained you of your spirit that has shattered and mended too many times for him to count. As if you are missing, and he has fucked up, and his tongue is heavy in his mouth as he clears his throat and his mind.

“Mhm.”

“I know she never said it, but she did. She trusted you.”

“Yeah, well,” he breathes with a shrug, twisting so he faced the railing. The coil inside of him pulls tighter, “we’ll figure that out after we find out.”

“She talked about her death so often, I feel like it’s real this time. Like she’s really missing and she doesn’t want to be found,” comes the hushed reply. “I don’t want to give up, Bucky, but—”

“I know.”

“Call me if you find anything,” Jenny orders, sounding a lot like you. Bucky agrees, lifeless. As if he wouldn’t.

“I’d feel better if you stayed at the compound.”

“Maybe I’ll come over later tonight. I’m gonna go watch the press junket, see what Tony says, and then go to class. Keep my mind off of it, and the possibilities.”

“Okay. Stay safe, and call me. I’m still here for you.” Jenny hangs up and Bucky groans, tilting his head back and bracing himself against the rail. You are much better at handling her than he is. Always was.

“Hard night?” He cranes his neck to see Natasha walking up to him in a pencil skirt and dress jacket. Huh. Black Widow all dressed up and no place to go.

“Harder day. You going to the junket?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at her outfit and she smiles but there’s nothing to it. He figures. Natasha loved you like a sister. Loved. He needs to not pick up the habit of talking about you like you’re dead. You aren’t.

He would’ve felt it if you were. He knows it.

“Yeah. Tony needs the support, and I’ll be there in case he needs me to take over. He’s losing his mind over this. You?”

“No. Stark’s good at playing the press and he doesn’t need me there when I’m pretty sure he hates me,” Bucky says and Natasha’s smile shrinks, leaning in beside him. “I’m always fucking his family over.” His poor attempt at a joke makes her chuckle wryly, the sound coming out choked and wet. “You okay, Nat?”

“I know we’re trying to be positive here, but… she said someone was following her. I told her it was crazy. That no one would fucking snatch her when we’re there, but…” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she closes her eyes and trails of tears race down her cheeks. “She was so worried about something else that I said I’d keep an eye out for her. If someone did catch her… and that’s why… I fucked up, James.” Her eyes meet his again, wide with fear, open to the softest spots of her. It’s rare and it alarms Bucky to no end. If Natasha’s scared, there’s a reason to be fucking terrified.

“We all did,” he murmurs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You should probably head down there before they kill you.”

“Ah, yeah. Give me a sec.”

“Okay.” Bucky turns and leans back onto the railing again, letting a gentle silence rest over the two trained killers. He doesn’t say anything when Natasha lets out a soft, shuddering breath and wipes at her face with a tissue from a pack in her pocket. In turn, she offers him one. He declines. Natasha shrugs and wipes away smears of makeup that she somehow knows are there. Bucky never understood the magic of it all—you and Nat had such a talent for seeming so put together it made you both impossible to read.

Bucky likes to think he’s gotten better at it over the past two years, for the both of them.

His throat aches as he blinks, and the stinging in his eyes eases as he sucks in a cold breath. The heel of his flesh hand rubs at his face angrily, swiping away his grief and Natasha pretends not to see it, putting away her pack.

“She’s missing. I know she is,” Natasha says with dreadful confidence. “But I also know she doesn’t want you to give up on her, you know? She liked you more than anyone.”

“Yeah, that’s what people keep telling me,” he snaps, voice rough, grating. She doesn’t want you to give up, some part of his head notes, not doesn’t want ‘us’. Bucky’s gaze meets Natasha’s, and the woman merely smiles softly. She knows he’s caught her. “Funny way of showing it.”

“You know she didn’t hate you,” Nat whispers, a hand on his forearm. Bucky shakes his head, hair curtaining him away from his old student. “You know you didn’t hate her. It isn’t too late to make things right.” A pressure crushes him from the center of his head, a world placed between his shoulders as he struggles to hold up this façade you can wear for months on end.

He doesn’t hate you.

“It’d be much easier if I knew she was dead already. I know how to make peace with ghosts.”

It’d be much easier if he did.

Natasha’s mouth curls into a wry smile. “As if she’d ever make peace with you.”

.

The only time Bucky really is forced to spend time with you is when they run drills, and Bucky likes to think he works well with you if you can hold your tongue for more than two seconds. You’re a snarky little thing who can warn him not to bring up Jenny again with just a single glance and convey your intent to target with just the twitch of your lip. Then again, you’re easy to read on the battlefield. You make your objectives clear.

His knuckles ache wonderfully and he can hear a solid kick land a few ways off. Turning, he watches as you twist to launch a powerful sidekick at a dummy, letting it fly a few feet away before going to grab it.

“Where were you stationed?” he asks wearily as you wipe the sweat off your brow. Half of him yells for even approaching the beast, but he’s not afraid of you. You just piss him off so easily and by your arched brow in surprise that he’s talking to you, you know it. A call over the PA warns them of supper, and Bucky sighs, wiping at sweat with the back of his hand.

His muscle shirt is slick with the evidence of his labour as he hoists the dummies up to carry them back into the warehouse a little ways off. You pick up your own dummy and walk after him. “Before Somalia, I mean?” How did you get your own set of problems, he asks quietly to himself, because they don’t just start overnight and you don’t get help like everyone else. What is it with you? Pride?

“Former navy. Cryptologic linguist, two tours, then Afghanistan. I’m head of the Stark Relief Foundation, so I was touring with my brother at his insistence,” you say flatly. “It went wrong. That’s it.”

He stops along the track, meeting your eyes. You skid to a halt beside him. “Kidnapped?” Like your brother?

Your eyes are piercing but he doesn’t falter. He can tell no one really speaks your mind around you so when your eyes command him to shut up, he doesn’t. It might be pushing you a bit, but he has a feeling no one asks. Maybe they’re too afraid of you like you’re some princess, but he doesn’t care.

Bucky’s never met a princess quite like you before.

“None of your business,” you correct. He scoffs, rolls his eyes and meets your eyes again.

“You got a therapist?”

“Oh, you know what?” You put on a sickly sweet smile, dumping your dummy at his feet. “Put it away for me, won’t you, sarge?” The thing bounces against his shins, and the beginnings of his own smirk drop off his face as you begin to walk away.

“I don’t work for you, Stark. Clean up after yourself.”

He watches as your figure turns around, your lips turned in a mocking pout. “Oh, I do, but seeing as you’re about to become insufferable, I need to take a walk.”

“Can’t take it?”

“You’re the one with a million questions. Why don’t you figure anything out before you ask stupid questions like the paps? The internet exists for a reason.”

“I like to rely on the primary source,” he shoots back and you laugh. It sounds just as mocking as your pout looked and the sound strangles out any air in his lungs. His blood boils at your grin.

“As if the primary source is reliable. Which you should understand by the way.”

Your words work underneath his skin and his lips twist deeply into a scowl. “Thanks for the reminder. At least I’m getting help for my problems. When’s the last time you saw your therapist?”

“Don’t have one. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Really? Liar. “Who’s the one with the chip, anyway? I think that’s fucking dealing.”

Who’s the one who needs one? Bucky wants to say in kind, but he doesn’t. “You know just as well I do that it isn’t.”

“I hate you,” you tell him plainly. “You have no idea what happened or what I’ve been through and you’re making these assumptions that I need to deal with something. I don’t.”

“Does anyone really know what happened to you?” he snaps, dropping his targets to the grass.

He expects you to jut out your chin, say yes, obviously. Your whole life is plastered on social media—Instagram, Twitter, the occasional Snapchat story—that you’re a book everyone and no one knows how to read.

“No.” Your voice colder than the antifreeze in his blood and his eyebrows rise at the shimmer of doubt in your gaze. “And I don’t want to talk about it with someone like you.”

“Which is?” He keeps his tone even despite the simmering, bitter sensation that cramps up his chest and urges him to throw himself forward and scream.

“A killer—” You walk up to him, eyes unforgiving— “who thinks there’s damage in everyone just ‘cause the world fucked up with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Your eyebrows rise and fall as you shove your face into his. You’re tantalizingly close, and he frowns at the lick of fire inside his gut when you snarl, “I’m not fucking broken, Barnes. You don’t know shit about me. You don’t need to psychoanalyze me and try to figure out what’s wrong with the rich girl.”

“Something's always wrong with the rich girl,” he retorts, and you laugh. It’s empty, hollow, but still, you laugh and it makes him uneasy, cornered, prey.

“Not me. My life is fucking peachy right now. Hell, I’m talking to the guy who killed my mom and somehow not strangling him despite every thought in my head telling me to wrap my hands around your throat.” You tilt your head, and a saccharine smile somehow splits your face eerily. “Guess I’m the bigger person that way.” You begin to walk away from him and Bucky opens his mouth, his throat cinched shut as he tries to calm the rage inside him. “See you around, sarge.”

He waits until you’re gone before he begins the journey to the warehouse.

He has to make a return trip for the dummy you dropped at his feet, and he’s late for supper. Steve asks why he’s late, and Bucky doesn’t miss your sly smirk as you dig into your burger.

“No reason,” he lies. “Just decided to take my time from the warehouse.”

Two can play at that game.

[marvel-medigeek-fics]

147 days

ao3 link

147 days. That’s how many days it has been since Buck transferred to station 219. He has new friends now. A new captain, who isn’t Chimney. He has gotten used to his new place, works in harmony with his new crew. But he still misses the 118. He doesn’t regret transferring, because he saves people again, but he misses his old station nonetheless.

147 days. That’s how many days it has been with the new recruit. When Buck was a fresh hire, Hen had compared Buck to a golden retriever. The recruit that replaced him was a cat. Moody, moody and moody. Some days the guy was extremely chill and rolled with the punches. Others, he was downright mean. They couldn’t fire him, he was too good. Too good at avoiding trouble, that is. He knew just when to bow out and lay low, and for such, he never got written up for insubordination.

147 days. That was how long it had been since the badass under pressure brothers had worked together. Now Eddie was like a lone wolf. Since losing the golden, he was a little more tough. Where Buck had softened him a little, he had turned into steel after Buck transferred.

147 days. That was how long it had been since Hen had had someone to tease. Sure she could tease Chim or Eddie or even Bobby, but there was something about the banter she had with Buck that made him hard to replace.

147 days. That was how long it had been since Chim had seen Buck apart from his sister. Buck didn’t live on his floor anymore, so the only place Chim saw him was when he was with Maddie. Though he was the one to spend the most time with him, Chim still missed his little brother. He was a bother sometimes, but he was still family.

147 days. That was how long it had been since Bobby had seen his pseudo son. He missed the blond, his quickness, his kindness, his hopefulness. Buck affected Bobby in every part of his life, and it was hard to be okay with not seeing him around the house anymore.

The 118 missed Buck, even if they didn’t admit it. Buck missed the 118 and he’d be the first to admit it.

—

The 118 had been normal when the last earthquake hit. That seemed so long ago, but really it had only been a year and a half. Buck had a new partner this time: Paige Marcino. The 219 had been called to a school, and Buck’s heart panged to think of Christopher. He missed the kid, but there was no time to dwell on that. Buck had a job to do.Most of the classrooms were emptied already, and Buck and Paige were on the last classroom. They had just gotten to the doorway when the floor began to shake. 

"Get down! Everybody get down!" The kids had seen the firefighters and moved too soon. Much too soon. The ceiling cracked and began to crumble to the floor. Paige and Buck both dove over the unprotected kids and waited for it to stop. It finally did and Buck let out the breath he had been holding. 

"Everybody okay? Anyone hurt?" Buck called out to the silent and terrified children. Paige seconded his words and everyone answered except for one. 

"Jeremy?" The teacher said. One of the children pointed to the broken teacher's desk. Buck and Paige both headed toward it, bracing themselves. The kid had a piece of metal sticking from his thigh. His eyes were closed and he was growing paler by the second. 

"Paige, take the kids out. I have this." Paige nodded and began gathering the kids up. Buck looked in her direction for a second, but then turned his attention to Jeremy. 

"Hey, kid. What's your name?" Buck tried to keep his voice light and steady. 

"Jer..emy.." The kid said, grimacing in pain. "What..happ..en..ed?" 

"There was an earthquake and you got hurt, buddy."

"How..hurt..?" Buck debated whether to tell him the truth or hide it from him. 

"You have a piece of metal in your thigh." By the time the kid could even process it, Buck had the tourniquet fastened securely and was checking him for other injuries. None. Good. "I'm going to get you out of here, kid. I don't want you to talk very much, but try to stay awake. Okay?" 

The kid nodded in reply, and Buck began to carry him out. He was mindful of the piece of metal and tried to keep it still. It wasn't easy, especially with the twinges of pain in his leg. Why did it have to be today? But he made it out, and the kid was good. He was breathing better, the tourniquet doing well at stemming the blood loss. The kid made it, but Buck wasn't sure about himself, that he'd make it through the day.

---

The 118's first call was to a mall. This was tricky for a number of reasons. Number one, it was Saturday. Number two, it was 2:47 when the first quake hit. Number three, the newest recruit had already refused to go in. They were down a member and up against a delicate building filled with people. One step at a time, Hen kept saying to herself. The first step would be going in. Second step, dealing with the reality. People were dead. Two main support beams had crashed through the middle of the building, pulling down most of the room and crushing the middle of the mall. Bobby had split up the paramedics, and instructed the pairs to split up. Cover more ground, hopefully save more people. 

Hen was with Bobby and they went right, climbing over the shredded metal and splintered fabric. On their right was the pet store, complete with cats meowing and dogs thrashing at their kennels. Bobby radioed for a few more hands to transport the animals and Hen headed to the clerk. 

“I’m Hen, what’s your name?” Hen said, surveying her patient for any injuries.

“I’m Naomi and I’m okay, but my boss, Felix? How is he? He’s in the back.” 

Hen craned her neck around the counter and saw the man, a metal cage punctured into his stomach. She ran to him and began her training. Airway, breathing, circulation. He was breathing well. Good, good. She looked around for something to take apart this cage, and her eyes settled on the wire cutters across the room. Perfect. She ran, scooped them up and began cutting off the cage. Felix’s eyes sputtered open and the first words out of his mouth were about his pets. 

“People are carrying them out right now, sir. Try not to move, you have a cage impaling you right now.” Hen pressed her gauze to the puncture wounds, trying to keep the door part from moving and esasperating the direness of being impaled in three places.

By the time the owner was on a backboard, Bobby had already moved all of the animals out of the building. “At least you’re not allergic to cats,” Hen said, looking over the store one last time before moving on to the next one.

--

The 219 was putting out little fires for their three calls, until they were called to the mall. It wasn’t that Buck didn’t want to help people there, it was that this made him miss his old station. As terrifying as the elevator thing was, he missed it. Paige was great, but she wasn’t Eddie. She wasn’t Hen, or Chim, or Bobby. But that ship had sailed, and Buck joined a new one. But he missed the old one sometimes. 

He missed the 118 even more when he saw their numbers emblazened on their ladder truck. Not the one that crushed his leg of course, but the numbers were the same and the memories came rushing back. 

There was no time for that. Buck had work to do. The 219 went around to the other side. Meet in the middle. The first store on the that side is a bookstore. And it’s a mess. Books are strewn everywhere, along with the shelves and everything else.

“LAFD, anyone here?” Paige called to the silence.

“Back here!” A cluster of voices called back. Buck sneezed his way to the people clustered in the back room of the store. Both him and Paige realized what was so wrong bout this at the same time. 

There happened to be a giant beam only held up by a steel bookcase and sheer luck quivering over them. Buck and Paige both knew the odds of coming back from a beam like that. They were fair, not terrible, normally. Unless of course there was a possibility of another aftershock, two aircondititioners stacked over the beam each sticking out at dangerous angles, and only one way out. 

“We’re going to need back up. North east side. Up to 20 people stuck in a back room, unstable conditions.” 

Paige had a way of jumping into things even quicker than Buck did. But she hesitated today, carefully locating the open entrances. Besides the regular door, there happened to be two partial openings that were created when a portion of the room caved in. There was even less of a chance of getting someone out of those, especially with the rest of the room still covered them and the possibility of another aftershock. The last aftershock has still been a 3.2 and had brought down even more of the room. A few more, and there would be no more saving. 

The 20 or so people stuck back there seemed to be a group of college aged nerds, who all seemed pretty nonchalant. Better than belligerent, as Buck liked to say. Paige was doing her best to find the most stable way to get them free, while Buck explained the situation to the backup that had arrived. 

A concensus was reached to get people out of all three excapes at the same time, as quickly as possible. Each had their challenges of course, and a lot of luck would be needed. 

Buck and 2 others took the beam route. The gap was barely wide enough for them, but they made it. If Buck’s nerves hadn’t already been fried, they would have been. 

The center team managed to get three out before the building started shaking. The backup team of 4 from the 442 left behind half of their people, and the other two took the rescued people to the outside of the mall. Paige, Buck, and the two others (Kylie and Zach) stayed behind. Buck and Kylie were stuck on one side, while Paige and Zach prayed and stayed out of the path of debris. Buck and Kylie had no such luzury. Each of them protected the 6 people left. 13 had gotten out of the 19 that were originally there. 

The rumbling finally stopped, and Buck could breathe again. “Everyone okay?” Buck and Kylie almost frantically asked everyone of their future rescues. Everyone said they were fine. Good. Good. Good. 

There was a wet stain spreading across Buck’s shoulder, but he didn’t think about it. He couldn’t. Until all of the innocent people were safe. Luckily, the aftershock had moved one of the side paths to be more accessible and everyone got out in one piece. 

The store looked like a disaster area, but neither Buck or Paige gave a shit. They, along with the 442, had gotten those people out. 

“Buck? You’re bleeding.” Zach got Buck’s attention over the ringing in his ears. “There’s a piece of fan blade in your shoulder.” The words made his adrenaline plummet and the world went dark. 

--

Almost all of the 118 was still inside the mall when Buck got dragged outside by Paige, Kylie and Zach. It was a newsworthy story, obviously, because channel 12 seemed more concerned about this unconsciousness man, that the damage of the mall, which seemed to be crumbling by the minute. 

The 118 thought about Buck throughout the day. Eddie missed his partner, and the easy mind reading thing they did. His new partner, Linc, from B shift, almost clicked with the mind reading wavelength. But the last time Linc, has tossed the axe Eddie needed, it landed four feet from him and threw off the whole balance. So, yes, Eddie missed Buck. But only for his axe throwing skills. 

Bobby missed the way Buck would selflessly throw himself into danger, damning the consequences. His replacement hadn’t even come in to the mall, instead getting an assignment from incident command to do triage. Yes, Bobby was pissed, but mostly at himself for letting Buck get away.

Hen missed Buck, and the way his presense made everything less shitty and depressing. Maybe it was the hair. 

Chimney had been tagged out by Hen, who claimed she needed to be inside someone, absorbing adrenaline from the air in order to calm her nerves. Because he was a good friend, Chim had obliged her request. He was very much surpised to see Buck with a fan blade stuck in shoulder being loaded into his ambulance. He missed Buck too, but didn’t want, need or expect to seem him this way. 

--

After dropping Buck off at the hospital, and making it back to the mall, where things were settling down a little, Chimney shot off three quick texts. One to Maddie, telling her her brother was in the hospital. One to the fire A shift group chat telling them Buck was in the hospital. And one to Buck, whenever he would happen to get his phone, apologizing for the icey feelings between them.  Buck probably wouldn't see it, because that fan blade would definitely require surgery. Buck, of course, would claim it to be just a scratch. Would 219 react the same way 118 would? Doubtful.

Bobby would look vaguely amused and shift his gaze periodically to make sure Buck wasn't overdoing it. Eddie would probably say shoulder injuries are a bitch, and he would be right. Hen would have some smart quip to fire back with and Chim? Before Buck left, Chim would've joined in with Hen in teasing the newbie as everyone still thought of him, even though Eddie had been there less time. 

But now, Chimney was keener to notice the nuances of Buck nursing his shoulder or looking away in embarrassment. Things had changed since Buck transferred, sued the station, and Bobby himself. Somethings need space in order to be mended.147 seemed like a good number of days of space. At least for Chimney. Say what you will, but Chimney was a little impatient. 

Once all of 118 was back at the station, Chimney quickly rattled off the situation with Buck. Each member had a varying look of concern for their estranged member. Bobby looked like his normal stoic self, but he had the telltale look of concern that was reserved for Buck. Hen looked stunned and immediately exclaimed her plan to visit him after the shift ended. Eddie looked wistful, in a way, and instantly agreed to accompany Hen. 

So the four of them, four hours later, appeared in Buck's hospital room.When Buck awoke, he was slightly surprised to see Bobby, Chimney, Hen, and Eddie crowded around the right side of his bed.

 "Hey, guys. What's goin' on?" The four of them looked at each other with confusion, until Maddie appeared in the doorway.

 "You had shoulder surgery because you got an air conditioner fan blade stuck there." She sipped her coffee to keep from answering any other questions. She seemed to part the Red Sea because the four of his former coworkers parted for her swagger, leaving her a space in the middle of them.

"Why are you guys here?" was Buck's next question.

"We heard you got hurt, and wanted to visit you," Eddie answers after no one else speaks. Eddie says it like it's simple when it isn't. Maddie sips her coffee with raised eyebrows, especially at Bobby's obvious apprehension. Buck mirrors Bobby. What's unspoken speaks louder than the questions Buck explicitly asks.

There are a few minutes of silence. Save beeping of machines and whoosh of doors, there is nothing except for heavy impending thoughts weighing on everyone's mind.

"I'm sorry," Bobby says with an air of finality. It comes out smoothly, but quickly. It's been on the tip of his tongue for months, but the courage hasn't been. All at once, everything seems to settle. Buck looks at Bobby like he's a person to him again, and Bobby doesn't look so much like a lost puppy. No one else says anything, and the words sit heavy in the air.

Maddie, Eddie, Chim and Hen all simultaneously decide to leave the two alone to delve into the things that went so wrong 147 days ago.

--

"I'm sorry, ahem, for keeping you away from firefighting after you were cleared. I was scared and I hurt you, because of my, ahem, fear. " Bobby almost seems desperate. Desperate to fix what he broke, and mend what was lost. He stumbles over the words, almost begging for Buck to accept.

 A moment of contemplation occurs between them until Buck reaches out his hand. Bobby stares at Buck's olive branch like he can't believe that this is really all it took. Amazing what a true apology will do.

"I forgave you a while ago. I understood where you were coming from after Maddie explained it, but it took me a while to accept that you didn't do that out of malice. But I forgive you. Don't get me wrong, I'm still dealing with being pissed at you for that, but I forgive you because I understand your reasoning now." Buck says it with clarity. He's grown up in 147 days because Maddie dragged him to therapy, even though she won't go herself.

"I want you back at the 118." Bobby blurts out, after a fairly lengthy conversation about the 118 since Buck's been gone and the 219 in its place.

"Are you sure?" Buck looks incredulous at the prospect of going home. At least, to a former home.

"Yes. We don't work without you! Of course, it's your decision, and I, and everyone else, will respect your decision, whatever it may be. But I want you back.”

"I'll think about it." Buck already knows the answer to Bobby's prospect, but a lot of things go into making a change like that. Logistics, for one, which Buck has never liked too, too much.

--

Maddie is the first one to return, still sipping on her coffee. She stares at Bobby with carefully veiled vengence, and Buck with tender concern. "I'm good, Mads." Buck smiles at his sister, answering her unspoken question. He's speaking a zeugma, answering both physically and mentally. After all, being back with the 118 was all he ever wanted for months. He'd fought fiercely to not need the 118, the people or the station, and he didn't necessarily need the 118 after being with the 219.

 But he wanted it, and he'd damn sure take the chance. There's no one else he'd rather do the job he loved with. Paige was nice, but she was no Eddie. Badass under pressure brothers had no competition in Buck's heart and mind. Hen and Chimney were family from the moment Buck had joined the station. Bobby had been as well, which would take a while to recreate their former relationship. And 118 was home. 219 was just a job. So he'd already accepted Bobby's offer in every sense except literally.

Yes is the first thing Eddie, Hen, and Chim hear as they bring in the food they snuck for Buck.

"What?"

"Buck is returning to the 118," Bobby says, looking to Buck for approval.

"Prodigal son is back!" Hen cheers, handing Buck his favorite candy with a finger to her lips and a grin on her face.

Chimney grins as well and sets an ice-cold bottle on the table. Eddie looks the most stoic with a barely-there smile playing on his lips. He's never been a grinner, of course.

But Maddie only sees her brother at this moment, looking his happiest. The 6 of them are happy, because the family feels complete again, with the cracks finally mending after 147 days.

[orionares]

BTHB: Hallucination

A/N: This was requested as a Hurts to Breathe prompt, but it got away from me and turned into Hallucinations. 

BTHB: Hallucination

Psych

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The ringing in his ears suck.

Nope, scratch that. The pile of rubble on top of him and the 6.2 earthquake sucks.

Shawn Spencer tilts his head slightly to scan his surroundings but only comes up with fuzziness. The magical, magnificent brain of his is on the fritz.

Concentrate. I must get out of here and the schematics of the room include...include....

From his position on his back, Shawn tries to inch to his left without shifting the rusting metal pole impaling his right side just below his rib cage. The pole isn’t too deep but every inhale and exhale send a sharp pain across his rib cage.

I’m stuck. The joint case he had been working on with Juliet and Gus had landed the group at an old warehouse used for food storage for a local company. He had strode into the warehouse office and started performing his psychic ‘spiel’ before running off to the basement to grab the evidence an ex- employee had alerted him of.

All he had to do was run downstairs, grab the stupid notebook, run back upstairs, spin and bam- solve the case in front of the SFPD like a Rockstar.

Then a freaking earthquake hits and he’s buried under rubble in the basement.

Breathe in...OWWW....breathe out.

Shawn takes refugee in Juliet’s location when the earthquake had hit. She had been closest to the door, fighting off a smile at his performance.

She was closes to an exit- she has to be safe. Breathe in...Owwwwww....breathe out.

There’s a small space, inches by his estimate, between his uninjured left side that catches his fuzzy brain’s attention. “Maybe…suck in fat,” Shawn gasps, “and shimmy?”

“Now that’s one of the most ridiculous ideas you’ve ever had, Shawn, and you’ve had some bad ones.”

Henry Spencer, no doubt a hallucination or Henry somehow telepathically nagging from Santa Barbara, stands above him casually.

“Is not,” Shawn quips breathlessly. A loud boom echoes above him and Shawn has another totally not irrational thought. What if I-

“Shawn! If you’re thinking of jiggling the pole currently impaling you to help us find you faster, you must be out your damn mind. C’mon, son! Tighten up.”

Shawn sighs in relief as his injured magnificent brain changes Henry into Gus. Gus kneels near his head and somehow begins munching on a churro.

“Don’t be the….” Shawn’s chest burns as he talks, “ don’t be the…..stupid pole in my side.”

 “SHAWN SPENCER!”

“Shawn Spencer!”

Either I’m hearing things or those voices are the sweet sound of rescue. What’s the procedure…..Lassie-frass made us study this… At the thought of Lassiter, the happily munching form of Gus morphs into Carlton Lassiter, leaning against a mahogany custom cane with a scowl.

“SPENCER! I sent you and Guster to learn about procedures for a reason! You should know this!” Lassister reprimands. Shawn snorts before he breaks into a coughing fit, thinking You sent us to a training without first, second or third breakfast. It isn’t my fault I don’t remember.

“Rocking…cane….sent you,” Shawn blurts out breathlessly before laughing at his brain’s imagination of Lassiter scowling. The cane’s hand-crafted handle, custom made and sent to Santa Barbra by Shawn Gus is in the form of a famous tv dog, Lassie. Juliet had strongly recommended, with a poor attempt at hiding a smile, against sending the gift.

“I’m only using this because this is in your head, genius,” Lassiter growls back.

Shawn chuckles but stops when he finds a strong iron taste in his mouth. Oh, this can’t be good.

“Shawn?”

Juliet lays on the concrete on his right, wearing the same flowery top and jeans she had worn on their date night instead of the black dress pants, SFPD police jacket and Kevlar vest she was wearing right before the earthquake. She smiles determined at him and states, “Focus. We’re coming for you, babe.”

“You sure…cause…halluc- nating.”

“We are, Shawn, but I need you to focus. You can hear us coming- focus on that and stay awake.”

Shawn notes the small droplets of blood on the concrete near his cheek, inches away from Juliet’s face. He swears he can hear the faint sound of drills- no, saws?

“Stay with me, Shawn,” Juliet whispers. She places a hand on his cheek and whispers, “ Stay with-“

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How much longer?”

“….Detective, O’Hara, we’re about three minutes out, ok?”

When did he pass out?

Shawn slowly drifts back into consciousness, finding himself fuzzy and warm. Juliet sits above him across from an EMT, now back in a dusty Kevlar vest and SFPD jacket and soot covering her forehead. Something tube- like sits in his mouth and he’s left concluding that he’s either intubated or he’s six again being yelled at by his father for trying to compete with Gus to see who could stick the most straws in their mouth.

The Straw Wars were awesome.  I need to rematch Gus.

“Shawn? You’re awake!” Juliet exclaims. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Shawn points to Juliet and the noticeable cut on her chin. She shakes her head and says, “I’m ok. It’s a little cut. God, Shawn- you scared me. It took them almost an hour to find you.”

Shawn reaches blindly to find her hand and Juliet quickly takes his and kisses the back of it. He shakes his head slightly and pulls it away before pointing at his chest, his temple and then to her. Juliet cocks her head in confusion. “What?”

First thing we’re doing after this is practicing charades. C’mon, Jules. Shawn points to his chest, his temple and then back to her again. She pauses for a moment before guessing, “You had a vision of me? No, you…saw me? In your head?”

Shawn holds out a fist bump with the best smile he can form while intubated. Juliet chuckles, “You were thinking about me while I was thinking about you. I was about to crawl into the basement by myself when I heard you say- Don’t be the Mike without Ike.”

Not bad. His brain, in its magnificence, kicks into gear again and he can’t help but wonder, But was she?  

[darth-salem-emperor-of-earth]

Well, well, would you look at that? I somehow started this today and managed to complete this oneshot in a day too. Must have been really motivated for this story or at least, to get this prompt finished for the @naruto-fantasy-week event that’s still taking place until the 21st. I have feelings I’d like to dive more into the plot and world I created for this fic because there’s a lot of story ideas brimming with possibilities. :D

Title derives from the lyrics of “Bedroom Hymns” by Florence+the Machine.

There’s a tiny bit of gore from battle mentioned in the beginning of the fic but it’s not explicit. 

Summary: When the lesser gods and power-hungry mortals slew several of the Old Gods to gain their strength, the world erupted into chaos and many of the surviving Old Gods went into hiding. The world did not fare better with the newer gods and soon enough, Godkillers were either born or shaped to give humanity a fighting chance. Who would have expected an experienced, antisocial Godkiller was bored enough to escort and protect an young Old God from those who’d either kill or use her to steal and harness her powers? Naruto Fantasy Week, Day 3. Prompt: Old Gods. [Sasori x Sakura] 

Text: 

Thoughts  

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

“Take one step towards the gods and they will take ten steps towards you.”

— Joseph Campbell, Mythologist

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

Sinking his blade deep into the enemy before him, Sasori gave the weapon one final twist, feeling the man’s flesh stretch and rend even wider and deeper before he abruptly and forcefully yanked out the sword out, blood squirting out of the gaping wound and splashing across his gloves, arms, and face. The man clutched his open gash, uttering nothing save for a few gurgles, and topped over, face first, and a pool of fresh blood soon formed around him. 

That’s the last of them.

Wiping the scarlet droplets from his scimitar on the corpse’s tunic, Sasori turned around to look for his employer who chased after several archers who concealed themselves in a brush up on a small hill. She was the one who charged him to help her to escort her to the Pearl Sea, where there supposedly was a ship waiting for her to take her to the fabled ‘Himmelsreiche’ , home of the Old Gods. Or what was left of them. 

Sakura was his employer’s name, her brilliant pink hair most likely the contributor to her name. Weeks ago, she approached him with a job, an easy one that consisted of a simple escort mission to bring her to the banks of Pearl Sea and deal with any miscreants who wished her harm. While she didn’t delve more into detail why she might be beset by people who were more than run-of-the-mill brigands, Sasori didn’t need to press the matter. He knew exactly who she was. An Old God, or at least, the surviving offspring of them. His eyes, a mere brown hue, had the gift to see the aura of other beings, human or no, and the auras of gods, Old or lesser, were far more luminescence and stronger than mere humans. Sakura’s aura was red, the same color his vibrant hair, and her essence brimmed with untold, untapped power. 

He wondered why she, an Old God, went to him, an infamous Godkiller who never bothered with slaying the Old Gods, for assistance. He had a few theories. On the run from other Godkillers who were either overzealous in their mission to eradicate all gods, be it lesser or the original ones, or they simply desired to use a god’s power for their own devices. Or there was the lesser gods, who were caught between vanquishing the rest of the gold gods, whom they resented for being in power and adored by the masses for so long, and the humans who eventually declared their unearthly rule corrupt and tyrannical and trained many of their own become Godkillers for the express purpose of hunting all the lesser gods down and putting them to justice. A young Old God like Sakura would be just the power boost they need in order to maintain their malign reign over the human population.  

But he didn’t care about her story so Sasori never asked. So he took her payment and off they travelled, gaining as much ground as they could in the daylight and when night blanketed the sky with twinkling stars, an illuminating moon, and a sky containing a dark velvet blue hue, they either sought shelter in taverns or camped outside. However, despite their meticulous measures to remain careful and conceal their presence from others, Sakura’s aura was like a beacon to those who wished her harm or to cage her so she’d be easier to subdue and channel her godly powers for their own purpose, for good or ill. Sasori already lost track of how many rival Godkillers (if you could hardly call a couple of green, stupid boys with dreams of glory and a beautiful death, or uppity, sanctimonious men and woman who could fight but never experienced true battle with an experienced, seasoned Godkiller and an Old God was still young but no less dangerous) or lackeys of lesser gods he slew without remorse or hesitation.

Sakura surprised him with her fighting prowess and willingness to hold her own in a battle, having rapid reflexes to swiftly switch from being defensive to taking the offensive. Not all the gods were warriors and despite her appearance radiating almost soft or unsuspecting charm, he learned from their very first battle that she had the strength to produce earthquakes by merely stomping or punching down on the ground long enough to create such colossal damages. She was skilled enough to keep up with him in spars or actual combat and much to his annoyance, saved his life a couple of times, either due to her superhuman strength, the ability to manipulate the earth to her will, or from her uncanny ability to heal almost injury, even if poison was embedded in the muscle or already entered the victim’s bloodstreams. 

One day he’ll create a poison not even she, an Old God, could heal.

“The archers won’t trouble us anymore,” Sakura announced grimly, sweat glistening off her wide brow. “There was also a scout observing our movements so I had to take care of him as well. Like the archers, he’s buried six feet under.”

Sasori smirked, recalling the distant screams he heard earlier when he effortlessly sliced off  one of the attacker’s head before whirling around to deliver two deep, perfect crisscrossing slashes across the soldier sneaking up behind him. Those horrific yells nearby provoked him to press on, to finish every single last bastard the lesser god Danzo continued to sic on them, time after time. Out of all the lesser gods that issued their own soldiers and trusted allies to hunt down Sakura and capture her, Danzo was the most persistent. He was also the god Sakura loathed the most.

“Efficient. None of them will be able to run back to their master and report about how your powers are growing.” Sasori remarked casually, sheathing his scimitar. He bent over to check the dead men’s belongings for anything of value and managed to uncover several pouches of gold. Sakura turned over two similar small bags of coins as well as a crinkled scroll, the golden seal broken.

“I found this message on the scout before I killed him. It seems both Danzo and Hanzo have joined together for an alliance. And placed an enormous bounty on your head.” 

Sasori frowned, thoroughly irked at the notion of eventually having to also deal with avarice or foolish bounty hunters hounding their every waking step in hopes to take down an actual Godkiller. “It sounds like we’ll have to double our pace if we want to make it harder for the two of them to trace us. We should leave this place as soon as possible.”

Sakura nodded her head in agreement. “Just let me bury the bodies first.” Palms facing down, Sakura’s emerald gaze was focused on the ground beneath their feet. Instinctively, Sasori took a step behind her and let her carry on with her work. The earth shifted and pulled itself apart from Sakura’s command, cracks forming into huge, gaping chasms to swallow the five carcasses as well as wiping away any remnants of Sasori’s gruesome battle. Then, the massive holes in the ground smoothly patched themselves up, the earth advancing upward to straighten the land up until soil,rocks, and grass soon littered the area once more. There was not even a speck of blood to hint what just transpired here over ten minutes ago.

“Are you hurt, Sasori?” Sakura queried once she was finished. 

He dismissed her concern by turning away and untied the reins of their horses, doing his utmost best to ignore the irritated, unhappy stare she was no doubt sending him. “I’m fine. None of them landed a hit on me.”

“You’re wrong.” Just like that, Sakura was at his side, gripping his arm and pushing the sleeve back, revealing jagged gash no longer than a mouse’s tail. “What do you call that?”

“A scratch. Now, get on the horse so we can resume our travels.” 

Ire flashed in Sakura’s eyes, spreading to her visage as her lips twisted into a scowl. “What that is a possible infection. Let me heal you–and that cut on your cheek.”

Disagreeing with her when it came to healing was futile but Sasori continued to protest, although the scolding died in his throat soon after as one of Sakura’s hands rest over the slash on his forearm, a warm, soothing sage green glow flowing from her fingers and palm, almost creating a small dome that isolated his wound before simultaneously disinfecting it and knitting his skin back together. And then almost immediately, the very same hand cupped his cheek, right where the supposed cut was located and the welcoming verdant light returned, bathing Sasori in warmth once more. 

Yet it wasn’t the tranquil sensation of Sakura’s curative abilities that caused Sasori’s blood to boil and transform in fire, or delivered tingling, shooting frissions up and down his spine and other areas of his body (which was damn well infuriating), or had every beat of his heart speed up in a rapid crescendo. When he took the escort job, Sasori imagined it was a simple ‘point A to point B’ mission with a little bit of carnage thrown in. The mere prospect of experiencing even a modicum of romantic feelings for his employer would be absolutely ludicrous. And yet here he was, unable to tear his gaze away from Sakura’s concentrated but thoughtful expression, her eyes darting between his healing cut and being caught in his heated stare, if her blushing cheeks were anything to go by.

What seemed like ages, Sakura finally removed her hand from his cheek but there was an air of reluctance as she did so. “Please, be more careful, Sasori. You have already gotten yourself injured several times on my behalf and if any of your wounds became mortal, I wouldn’t be able to heal you.” She glanced away, some locks of her light rose colored hair obscuring her face from him. “I don’t know how I’d react if you were truly gone from this world.”

Cocking his head, Sasori reached out to grasp her chin and pull her head back to face him so their knowing gazes would collide once more and at last, come to terms with the all tension and emotions brimming between them. How long have they ignored the fact there was a spark, a flare of attraction blossoming between them? Far too long, their bodies and hearts would say. 

Sasori dipped his head in, saying nothing. His eyes would do all the talking.

In response, Sakura leaned forward, her hands gripping his black cloak for support even as his other arm wrapped itself around her waist. Their noses bumped into each other, awkward and soft. Yet Sakura merely smiled and closed her eyes just as Sasori tilted his head to plant his mouth over that subtle dimple on her check, right before trailing over to claim a kiss from her beckoning lips.

By the time they were back on their horses and riding to the next town, both of their mouths were kiss swollen, Sakura’s neck was already sporting a vivid bite mark red as a peony, and Sasori’s chest was aching from the scratches Sakura left behind when she snaked one of her hands underneath his cloak and shirt to give him a taste of her teasing nature. Sakura was practically glowing at the new development of their relationship while Sasori kept his focus on the horizon, towards the direction of the Pearl Sea, all the while unconsciously brushing his thumb over his bottom lip, recalling the moment where Sakura first nibbled, then sucked on that particular spot during their second to last kiss. 

They were going to check into the first inn he saw and once they were settled in, he was going to give Sakura a matching bite mark on the other side of her neck. After all, in the age of gods, waning or no, paying tribute to the god of your choice was necessary to receive any blessings in return. And Sasori recognized quite quickly how much he enjoyed Sakura’s blessings. She was his god and he was her guardian, the protector of her temple. And no Godkiller or lesser god, regardless of their strength or reach, would tear them asunder.    

[habitripmagazine]

The 12 most Instagrammable places in Lisbon

Lisbon, between its beautiful hills and the streets of saudade

This Portuguese corner, with a lovely view to the river, has its authenticity, charisma and its special light and is one of the most charismatic and vibrant cities of Europe.

Calm and agitated, sometimes melancholic and othertimes a very happy city, Lisbon is a contemporary city rich in experience, with a truly privileged setting and much to offer.

There are just so many beautiful places in Lisbon that everyone should see once in their lifetime, and what good is a visit without a stellar photo to go with it?

Here are the 12 most Instagrammable places in Lisbon to make sure you don't miss out the essentials.

1-      Belem Tower

Belém Tower is a fortified tower and It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site because of the significant role it played in the Portuguese maritime discoveries of the era of the Age of Discoveries. The tower was commissioned by King John II to be part of a defence system at the mouth of the Tagus river and a ceremonial gateway to Lisbon.

The tower was built in the early 16th century and is a prominent example of the Portuguese Manueline style, but it also incorporates hints of other architectural styles.

2-      Jeronimos Monastery

The most iconic building in all of Lisbon is without a doubt the Jeronimos Monastery. Completed over 400 years ago, this spectacular building attracts visitors from across the world and is classified as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

3-      Miradouro de Santa Luzia

This romantic terrace by the church of Santa Luzia introduces visitors to Alfama with a sweeping view over its houses, churches, and the Tagus River.

4-      Elevador de Santa Justa

The Elevador de Santa Justa dates from an era when wrought-iron was not just a construction material but also an elegant art form. The exterior structure is adorned with glorious neo-gothic arches and geometric patterns, while inside two sumptuous polished wood carriages whisk passengers up in style.

5-      Lisbon Cathedral

Lisbon cathedral is one of the city’s most iconic buildings and its most important church. Supposedly erected on a mosque after the Christian reconquest, work on it was completed at the beginning of the 13th century. It is predominantly Romanesque in style, but Gothic and Baroque elements can also be seen in a church that has been altered over the centuries. It is impossible not to come across the cathedral during a stay in Lisbon.

6-      Alfama

Alfama is Lisbon's most emblematic quarter and one of the most rewarding for walkers and photographers thanks to its medieval alleys and outstanding views.

Because its foundation is dense bedrock, it survived the 1755 earthquake, and a walk through this old-fashioned residential neighborhood is now a step back in time. It's a village within a city still made up of narrow streets, tiny squares, churches, and whitewashed houses with tile panels and wrought-iron balconies adorned with pots of flowers, drying laundry, and caged birds.

7-      Elevador da Gloria

Foto:Créditos: Tom Neumann

The Elevador da Glória is The best known and most popular of the three cable cars. The Glória connects the Restauradores square to the typical Bairro Alto.

8-      Elevador da Bica

Bica is considered Lisbon’s most picturesque funicular, leading up to the Bica and Bairro Alto neighbourhoods, an area full of distinctive buildings, little shops and some nice restaurants.

Built in 1892, the funicular was initially moved by the water counterbalancing system, whereby movement was achieved by loading the car at the top of the hill with water until it was heavy enough to descend the hill and pull up the other car at the bottom of the hill. In 1896 the Elevador da Bica became steam powered, and in 1924 it was electrified.

9-      Praça do Comercio & Arco da Rua Augusta

The Praca do Comercio with the the Triumphal Arch of the Rua Augusta, designed by Verissimo da Costa and inaugurated in 1875. This area of the city was totally rebuilt after the devastating 1755 earthquake, under the supervision of the country's dictatorial prime minister, the Marques de Pombal. The square has recently been completely restored.

10-      25 De Abril Bridge

Originally called the Salazar Bridge, when it was inaugurated in 1966, this bridge changed its name after the 1974 revolution that happened on April 25th. While it may look like the Golden Gate in San Francisco (it was in fact built by an American company), it was actually inspired by the Bay Bridge in the same city.

11-      Carmo Convent

The Convent of Our Lady of Mount Carmel is a part-ruined medieval convent and Archaeological Museum. The medieval convent was ruined during the sequence of the 1755 Lisbon earthquake, and the destroyed Gothic Church of Our Lady of Mount Carmel  on the southern facade of the convent is the main trace of the great earthquake still visible in the old city. This convent lies between the Chiado and the Baixa districts of Lisbon close to Largo do Carmo.

12-      São Jorge Castle

São Jorge Castle  was the residence of the kings of Portugal from the 12th to the 16th century. The castle is located in one of the highest hills of Lisbon, 111 meters above the sea. It is surrounded by a magnificent landscape that stretches from the Tagus estuary to the east of the city.

Explorar hotéis em Lisboa

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Puppies and Poltergeists || Layla and Kaden

TIMING: Before the exorcism LOCATION: White Crest Animal Shelter PARTIES: @laylacooke and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Layla just wanted to see cute puppies and met Mamma Langley instead. AKA alright maybe this is why people don’t trust Kaden to do his job.

This ghost shit was bad. Really bad. But it wasn't exactly a good excuse for Kaden to give to his boss as to why he had to stop working for a bit. And he just took time off, too, he couldn’t do it again so soon. Plus, normal everyday shit should be fine. It would keep his mind off it while he waited. The animal shelter was a welcome break from all of it. He could do something normal, actually help something maybe. Instead of just destroying everything wherever he went. He got a warm greeting from the staff as he walked in and said hello. Everyone there knew him by now and he did his best to keep up with all the changing faces of volunteers, but he knew the core staff well enough by now. More importantly, he knew just about every animal in there at any given moment. Hopefully today was a day when he wouldn’t have to clear out any stray monsters that found their way there by accident. He was in the kennels checking on all the dogs, saying hi to some of his favorites when he felt a chill run down his spine. Normally he’d suspect werewolf but now… Now he was worried it could mean a ghost. His head shot around to look, as if he’d see anything if it was the ghost. There was nothing unusual, though. Just a girl. Teenage if he had to guess. Red hair. “Can I help you with something?”

Layla had needed something remotely happy in her life, and puppies always made her happy. She had looked up the local animal shelter online to see what their hours were, and even though she was sure Ulfric, Celeste, and Ariana would say no, they couldn’t say anything about her just visiting. So when she had arrived and signed in, the sound of tiny barks, big barks, deep barks, and all kinds of barks made her heart warm. It had been the first honest smile in weeks, and she didn’t want to ever have to leave. Seeing a small fuzzy dog sitting in the corner of its kennel looking sad, Layla felt her heart melt, “Hey little guy. Having a rough time too?” She was just about to open the cage, when she heard a voice behind her. Turning around, she noticed a man standing there, “I just came for a puppy pick-me-up. It’s been a rough week, to say the least. Have we met?” He looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him.

His mouth pulled into a thin line, trying to determine if those were his hunter senses or just the paranoia sending signals tingling through every nerve. Kaden couldn’t deny how on edge and anxious he felt every single moment since the bar and then Blanche. It could be a werewolf, it could just be a typical teenage girl. Something deep in his bones really hoped it was the latter. “Well, can’t argue with that. If you’re looking to adopt, I can help you find someone. I mean, they’re all great dogs but you know, sometimes a fit is better than others.” He approached the cage, crouched down, and started calling to the dog. “This is Indy. Aka Indiana Bones.” Tentatively, the small fluffy dog pittered over to the front of the cage. “He’s a good boy, but was found on the streets. He’s just a little timid. Could be a really good companion, though.” Now that the dog was up at the front of the cage, licking Kaden’s fingers, he nodded to her to indicate that she could reach in and pet the dog. It’d be fine, he wasn’t a nibbler and didn’t startle too bad. “I don’t know if we’ve met, though. If you’ve called out animal control recently, though, you probably saw me. Kaden, by the way.”

Why did this guy seem so familiar? She couldn’t place it, but did it really matter? Instead, she watched as he crouched down to greet the small dog. Layla couldn’t help but smile at his name, “That’s adorable.” Watching Indy walk over to the cage and lick Kaden’s fingers had warmed her heart. Bending down, she slowly approached the cage, not wanting to startle the little dog. Reaching out with the hand she had broken, she let him sniff the cast, before feeling him lick her fingers, which caused her to laugh, “O-m-g, I wish I could take you home with me, but I don’t know how my housemates would feel.” She was already falling hard for the little dog and letting her heart get attached. “I haven’t called animal contr-” Kaden. Animal control. It was coming back to her now. Wow, Grandpa, you’re actually kinda hot. She didn’t dare say it outloud. She had already had beef with this man online, if she were right in her assumptions of who he was, “Sorry, animal control. I blanked for a moment. Thought you were someone else.” With a soft, hollow smile, she looked back down at Indiana Bones.

Something about the way she was looking at him made him slightly suspicious. How did she know him exactly? And should he know her? Kaden was pretty sure he’d remember the red hair at the very least if he did. Still, the dog liked her and she seemed good with him, how bad could she be? “Who did you think I was if you don’t mind me asking?” He couldn’t let it lie. Even though he should. “Do you want to take him outside in the fenced area so you can visit him pro--” Before he could finish his question, a gust of wind burst through the kennel and the dogs started barking. All of them. Sure, it happened a lot that one would start, a few would join in. Not like this. Putain. “Actually it might be best if you come back tomorrow. I can reserve him f--” The lights flickered. He knew he shouldn’t have come here. But why now?

Crap. Layla was about to have to explain herself. Should she tell him who she was? All it would take was calling him grandpa. Of course, then he might have kicked her out and taken away the one bit of happiness she was experiencing, “Uh, just an old teacher I had back in high school.” It was a bullshit answer, but maybe it would work. Luckily, for her, he had moved onto the possibility of taking Indy outside. However, before he was able to ask her, she felt the same gust of wind come through leaving her feeling uneasy; her sensitive ears picking up on the same thing the dogs were. Chills ran down her spine, and she turned her attention back to Kaden, “You know, that might be a good idea…” Seeing the lights flicker had raised Layla’s heart rate. But hearing the soft moan of Indy sent her eyes straight back down to the small dog that was back to cowering in the corner, “What about Indy? Is there any way I could take him home and bring him back tomorrow?” Stress apparent in her voice, she wanted to get out as quickly as possible, but leaving the poor little creature there was pulling at her heart.

Kaden’s face scrunched. “A teacher? Really?” He wasn’t old enough to be a high school te-- Shit. Guess he was. Just put into stark perspective how young she really was. Considering she looked like she was fresh out of school. And somehow looked like she’d seen more hard times than a lot of people twice her age. As much as he’d like to help her, he was glad she agreed to leave with him. For a moment. Putain. That look she gave the small dog tugged at his stupid heart strings. It was worse when Indy whined for her to come back. As much as he wanted to help her and the dog, now wasn’t the time. “Not right now. Processes. Have to-- He’ll still be tomorrow.” And if we don’t leave right now, you might not. He put a hand on her shoulder. The lights cut out again, this time taking longer to come back with an eerie flicker, “Come on, we have to go.” He tried to keep the panic rising in him out of his voice, but he hardly succeeded.  “I’ll keep him safe, I pr--” He cut himself short. He needed to keep that word from his vocabulary. “I assure you, I will make sure he’s safe.” There was a rumble in the ground; it felt like an earthquake was coming. The growls and whines only escalated. They couldn’t stay here, the ghost would tear this place apart. “He’s safer if we leave him right now. Trust me!” Kaden tried to drag the girl away from the cage. But where? Shit. Closest way out was through the back hall that lead outside. He ran and pushed the door open only for it to slam in his face first try. He pushed again with his shoulder and it was open long enough for her to go through and for him to follow behind.  

There was some freaky shit going on, and Layla could sense it. Whatever had decided to join them had caused her ears to hurt and had almost made her want to bark and howl along with the other dogs in the area, but she resisted. He definitely didn’t need to know she could howl. However, she did take his warnings seriously and as much as she wanted to grab Indy, she knew there probably wouldn’t be time. Instead, she moved towards the cage one last time, and swore she’d come back, “I promise I’ll be back. I swear it!” Her fingers held onto the wire frame of the cage for as long as she could, until she was led away, “What the hell is happening in your animal shelter, Grandpa?!” Shit. She just revealed who she was. As she watched him manage to keep the door open long enough, Layla slid through, but the sound of barking and howling broke her heart. Please leave those precious things alone. Please. The thought had quickly crossed her mind to try and get back in, but she stopped herself knowing that it wasn’t the smartest or the safest move. She did, however, have Kaden to deal with, since she had accidentally outed herself.

The fluorescent lights above them started humming and buzzing as he led her through the hallway. Kaden’s brow furrowed as she called him grandpa. “Look I know you said I was old enough to be a teacher but cut the crap.” Kids these days. “And it’s not my animal shelter I just work here and you have to le--” Before he could say anything more, there were sparks shooting off above them as the lights sputtered out. Fuck. This was bad. “Door. Now.” He led her to the end of the hall to the door leading outside only it wouldn’t budge. Not an inch. The handle was shut tight and wouldn’t turn. He slammed on it with his shoulder. Nothing. “Fuck!” he cried out, frantically looking for another option. He ran back to the door they just came through. Same thing. The only door still open was to the one of the storage through rooms in the back. Guess they were going that way. Not where he wanted to deal with a poltergeist but they had few options. “Come on. Dealing with angry spirits here, move it.” One step inside the room and shelves started to vibrate. Bad, this was bad. He heard a crash. “Running would be good, time for running.”

In all the commotion, Layla tried to listen to what Kaden was saying, but between leaving Indy and the other dogs, and apparently fleeing for her life, she was having a little trouble focusing, “Look, you can scold me or whatever once we’re out of here, but until then-” Before she could finish, she was cut off by him directing her where to go. Seeing the distress in his face, she tried not to panic, but she could feel her heart pounding hard in her chest and every instinct was telling her to ‘wolf out’. She couldn’t. Not here. Instead, she kept quiet, except for the occasional scream as she noticed the spirit wreaking havoc everywhere they went. It was when they had gotten where they were going, that Layla realized pretty much anywhere they went, they were shit outta luck, “Are we gonna die at the hands of an angry ghost?” She managed to squeak the words out as they started running again.

Midway through running, Kaden felt something shift, like a cold chill was sinking into his body. His vision blurred and faded a bit, like he was being pushed away. “Oh, I’m not going to die today,” a chilling voice came from his mouth. It was like his own but different somehow. “But you are.” His hand reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders to throw her to the ground. It was his hand but not his will. He wasn’t the one who had pushed her and he wasn’t the one leaning over her now. His body was, but his consciousness was in the back seat, watching. He couldn’t find the control. What was happening, why was he doing this? Who took-- Poltergeist, that was right. His mother was a poltergeist. He had to remember, he had to fight this. Kaden could feel a little control come back and he tried to back away. “No!” he shouted. He couldn’t tell if it was him or the ghost, both were fighting for control. His hand reached back and pulled out a knife hidden behind his belt. The small silver one he kept on him. He hadn’t reached for it-- His mother, she must have-- The floor vibrated and the clatter of the shelves grew louder again. “Your family must be so disappointed in you,” he felt himself saying as he brought the knife closer to the girl.

Before she had realized what had happened, Layla found herself slammed to the floor and the wind knocked out of her. The daze she was in hindered her from getting up, and by the time she realized what had happened, Kaden was leaning over her small frame. His voice had seemed different, like he wasn’t in the driver’s seat any longer. The redhead could see the internal struggle going on, but the words cut deep into her soul, “H-How do you know about my family?” Tears seeped out of the corners of her eyes as fear coursed through her veins. However, a slight glint caught her eye and caused her to shift focus to the knife. Her fear increasing, Layla could feel the change in her fingers as they began to prematurely grow into claws.  

Kaden didn’t know about her family. At all. Why did his mother? Should he know? Was the ghost just bluffing? It didn’t matter. His hand gripped her wrist, pinned down her arms. He was so focused on the claws pushing out from her fingernails that he didn’t even notice the knife sinking into her flesh. He heard the sizzle of her skin, the burn of the silver contacting a werewolf. Fuck. “I knew of them. And I know they won’t let their legacy be tarnished. The same way I won’t let mine be thrown in the gutters,” his mother’s angry wails said through his voice. Kaden still didn’t know what was really happening and he wasn’t one to extend sympathy to werewolves. He considered letting his mother have this one. All werewolves were a plague as far as he was concerned. Whenever he saw a lupine creature snarling in the woods, he never hesitated to shoot first. When he felt the chill down his spine that alerted him to the presence of a werewolf nearby, it made his skin crawl. He’d never killed any wolf while they appeared human, but he wasn’t exactly kind to them either. But now, right now, all he could see was a scared teenage girl. Even with her hands shifting to show the monster within, he didn’t see that. He couldn’t, even if he tried. Kaden knew there was a poltergeist inside of him taking control but in this position he truly felt like a monster. How could he not? His hand rose again, this time aimed at her heart. Kaden forced his voice out, a scream, and tried to throw his body away as the room began to shake even more.

As the knife began to dig into her body, Layla let out a blood curdling scream. It had been the first time she had ever been exposed to silver as a werewolf and the pain was nothing like she had ever felt before. Tears ran down her face, as she so desperately tried to break free; a guttural growl chasing the scream as her teeth became sharp. Her body was starting to shift and before long the sickness that she felt, mixed with pain, would turn into the breaking and rearranging of bones, but the poltergeist’s hauntingly accurate words sent shivers down her spine, “Leave me alone!” The words were spat out in between the pain she was feeling, but as she saw the same knife, bloodstained already, pulled back and at the ready to end her young life, a defensive growl came out and she ripped one of her hands free ready to slash Kaden. Sending a swipe in his direction, Layla felt her claws connect with skin, tearing into flesh managing to free her other hand. Pushing him off of her, the redhead quickly dragged herself away from him in the opposite direction and as closely to a nearby wall as she could. Fear ran through her body, and she clutched at the left side of her stomach trying to stop the blood that was pouring out, “What do you want from me!? All I wanted to do was look at the dogs...Please just let me leave...I don’t want to die yet. I’m sorry, for whatever I did, I’m sorry.” She was sobbing by now. While instinct was telling her to run, she was afraid to go near Kaden and knowing that the ghost haunting them still lingered in the vibrating room somewhere left her frozen in place.

It wasn’t his will that brought his control back, it was the sharp screaming pain of claws digging into his arm. Kaden slammed into the shelf next to them as she pushed him out of the way and felt some of the air leave his lungs. It hurt like a bitch. All of it. At least he had control back and got to feel every ounce of pain for himself. Still, there was an odd sense of relief that she was alive and that he hadn’t killed her. Shit. He was relieved that he didn’t kill a werewolf? He could hardly argue with the crashes of items falling off shelves, the sputtering and flickering lights. The anger his mother felt was more than fucking justified right now. Bile churned up into his throat. Whether that was because he’d just been possessed and then fucking thrown across the room by a werewolf or because he’d let that werewolf live, he wasn’t sure. “I want you to get the hell out of here,” he croaked out. A shelf in the back came tumbling down as he said that. Shame gripped at him from all sides. He’d terrified a teenage girl to the point of begging for her life. But he was also trying to save a werewolf. He could feel himself splitting in two, trying to grapple with the situation at hand. He had to leave without her, right? That was safest. Shit, but she was bleeding. Who cared? One less werewolf in the world wouldn’t be the worst thing? Would it? But if she didn’t die and he called 911 for her and she implicated him-- Fuck. “I don’t want to hurt you. That ghost does. You need to run!” The shelf near him creaked and he looked up just in time to dodge out of the way as it slammed to the ground. “Now!”

Layla was trying to calm herself down, but with every breath came more pain and the natural flow of blood from her gut. Tears still streaming down her face, she pushed herself back harder into the wall scared to death of both the man and the poltergeist with the death wish. She wasn’t sure if Kaden was talking to her or the ghost, but it didn’t matter. Her eyes had gone down to the slash on his body. She had never intentionally tried to hurt anyone before, and even though it wasn’t the time or place, she had felt horrible for what she had done. She wanted to ask him if he was okay, but his words telling her to get out gave her the permission she had longed for so she could pass him. Scrambling to her feet with a cry of pain, Layla started to take off down the hall, but stopped. She couldn’t just leave him there with the thing threatening both of their lives. With a split second decision, she turned around and ran back to him, “I’m not leaving you here to die. You may not think highly of the thing I was cursed to become, but that’s not me. The bite is not me.” Sticking out her free hand, claws already retracted leaving nothing but traces of blood on the tips of her fingers from the shift as well as where she had slashed him, Layla hoped he would accept her help. They were both going to make it out of this thing alive.

Kaden pushed himself up on his hands and knees, kibble that had been scattered on the floor in the crash crunching beneath him. Whenever he got to his feet, his plan was to turn and run in the opposite direction, hope that his mother’s ire would wane the farther he was from the situation. He fully expected that the girl would bolt for the door just as he said. At least he fucking hoped she had that kind of self preservation. And if she didn’t, he’d have to make the distance himself. When he looked up and saw her standing there, hand outstretched, he froze. Why was she back? “Do you have a death wish?” was all he could manage at first, but his hand was taking hers anyway. What she said hardly mattered one way or another right now. He didn’t know if he did or didn’t believe it. What he did know was working together would only bring more of his mother’s wrath. And he wasn’t wrong. As soon as they started to run, another shelf came toppling over in front of her. Kaden grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back out of the way. Storage tubs burst open and kitty litter lined the floors. This was the last place he wanted destroyed. Too late for that. He climbed on the fallen shelf and offered her a hand for balance as he picked his way through the clutter. The door was so close. How much worse could it get in the meantime?

As soon as he took her hand, Layla was up and following him, but no sooner did they move towards the door, a shelf was thrown in their direction. Clutching her side and heart racing, she was grateful Kaden hadn’t just used her as a shield to block himself, but instead saved her, “Thanks…” Watching him move forward and climb onto the shelf, she reached for his hand, but before she was able to latch on, Layla felt a sudden burst of energy send her flying backwards, her body landing hard on the floor as it slid through kitty litter and other debris coming to a hard stop. Everything around her was spinning, and she moaned, as she tried to move.

Kaden should have known they couldn’t get out of there that easily. Putain. Really the smart thing to do would be leave her and take off, get away. His mother only wanted to see her hurt because he was nearby. If he left, she’d be already. But his stupid heart was bleeding seeing her get tossed across the floor. He grumbled and climbed back over the shelves to help pull her up. “Come on,” he said as he tried to help her up and back over the shelves for a second time, watching her back in case she got thrown again. This time he was ready to grab her in case any forces said otherwise. “Don’t make me regret this fucking awful decision, let’s move!” Hell he’d fucking fireman carry her out of there at this point if he had to. He pushed her along through the shelves. The room was still rumbling like an earthquake, but the door was just an arm’s length away.

Feeling him grab her, Layla forced herself up and held onto him as they had finally made it over the shelves together. Him yelling at her wasn’t exactly helping her head, let alone her nerves, but she knew he had good reason to. They were so close. They just had to make it a few more feet, and they’d be home free; at least she had hoped. As she inched closer, Layla reached out her arm going for the handle. The sound of the poltergeist continuing to rattle the building forced a little quicker step in the young wolf, and before she realized it, she was at the door. Grabbing the handle, she pushed down and started to pull as hard as she could, but nothing, “Why isn’t the door opening? WHY ISN’T THE DAMN DOOR OPENING?!” She was in a state of panic. At this rate, they were never going to escape.

They made it to the door. One more second and they were out. Only the door wasn’t opening. Of course the door wasn’t opening. Kaden nudged her aside and tried the handles himself. No luck. Putain. He saw another option. It was just going to be painful as shit. And he hoped she wasn’t too exhausted. “Come on, you’re a wolf, right? You have super strength?” He turned to the side and leaned his shoulder in. “On the count of three, together. Should be enough to break this down.” He nodded and braced himself. Then counted down. One. Two. Three! He ran and slammed into the side of the door with all his might, hoping they did enough to finally escape.

Layla had taken a beating. Her body was worn out. She was thirsty. And she just wanted to sleep, but she’d be sleeping forever if she didn’t give this one last push, “Yeah. I can do this.” You can do this, Layla. Following his lead, the teenager positioned herself and on his count, she slammed into the door with what little strength remained, which turned out to be just enough. The door hitting the ground and the momentum sending her out into the cool night air was relief if she had ever felt it. While she was concerned for Indy and the other animals inside, Layla knew it would be a death mission if she had gone back in, but she would be back as soon as she could, and her hope was that whatever that thing was had left the puppies alone. Looking over at Kaden, as she tried to catch her breath, a smile slipped over her lips, followed by a laugh with tears chasing it, “I-I don’t know what that was, but...we made it...we’re out…” Chest heaving and adrenaline pumping, Layla hadn’t noticed how much blood she had lost. She was just grateful to be free and alive.

The door rammed down and once he could stop and stand still, Kaden bent over and rested his palms on his knees, trying to remember how to breathe. He wanted to sleep for the next decade. They weren't’ safe yet, though. And her stab wound wasn’t looking great. Not that he should care any. “Poltergeist. Spirit of my dead mother.” He wasn’t sure why he was admitting all this to her. Hell he hadn’t come close to even admitting he knew what a ghost was when he first met Blanche all those months ago. Guess he figured after nearly getting killed by her, she deserved to know. “You good enough to get yourself home? Cause you should go there. Fast as possible.” He looked over at her, hoping she had enough adrenaline to get her to safety. “I’ll put in your name for Indy. The second I can. Just need a first and last.”

Okay, that was the last thing Layla had expected to hear. Never had she faced anyone’s dead mother before, but there was a first time for everything, especially in White Crest, “Well, I guess that makes sense why she was after me then.” She glanced back to the building one last time, before taking a slow deep and quivering breath, “Yeah, I’ll make it. I’m not too far out.” She could feel the sweat dripping off of her face, and with her remaining strength straightened herself up preparing to run home, “Thanks. I don’t know how I’ll be able to get him, but I need that little guy in my life.” She looked in the direction of home, and just before she took off running, she looked back to Kaden, “My name’s Layla. Layla Cooke.” Not thinking anything of it, she took off running hoping to make it home to someone who could help patch her up knowing her own first aid skills were somewhat limited, but knowing this was a night, she wouldn’t soon forget.

[lycanomancy]

the Fallout 4 pokemon au no one asked for.

I asked one (1) person if this was wanted and they said yes. So, here is a 17 page list of the Fo4 companions as gymleaders and Elite 4. 

for followup on type choices, here ya go

edit// as i view this more ill probably make changes/adjustments

 Warning- This post is 17 pages long in Google Docs. This is not a simple snack, it’s a Golden Coral buffet. For the love of Arceus dont open if you’re on mobile. Your phone will melt.

GYM LEADERS

SANCTUARY

Codsworth: Beats doing housework!

A Mister Handy that’s kept Sanctuary from collapsing for 200 years, Codsy is a gentleman through and through. His old owner supposedly dead, he’s still keeping the house spick and span. While tending to the Carrot Flowers, two little creatures wandered up to him, and the metal butler was smitten. Scavengers who come to pick through the ruins are met with a robot who is very insistent on not letting people steal from his neighbors, dead or not. After word got out to avoid Sanctuary if you didn’t want your Pokemon to faint, people started coming in droves to meet the challenge. “It’s just a robot, how bad could it be?” Answer: Quite bad. He doesn’t really have a Gym, but the Elite 4 noticed him enough to make him a Leader. His Badge is the Rust Badge, and he gives out TM61, Will-o-wisp.

Codsworth - Fire

Vulpix

Will-o-wisp

Quick Attack

Tail Whip

Ability - Flash Fire

Growlithe

Bite

Ember

Leer

Ability - Intimidate

DIAMOND CITY

Piper Wright: Can’t stop the Press!

Piper is a part-time gym-leader, part-time reporter, and full time sister. With her hectic schedule, her composed Grass types help her errands and keeping her sane. Piper’s paper, Publick Occurrences, used to be about news and advice for Trainers, but lately it’s been mostly accusing the city’s mayor of consorting with the shadowy Institute, known for stealing Pokemon and kidnapping people. Because of this, Mayor McDonough is constantly threatening to take Piper’s Gym (and Pokemon) away. She’s been arrested multiple times for disturbing the peace and causing fights among the citizens of Diamond City, no matter how hard her team tries to stop her. If you can withstand her onslaught of status moves, she gives you the Paper Badge and TM86, Grass Knot.

Piper Wright - Grass

Leavanny

Bug Bite

Protect

String Shot

Razor leaf

Ability - Swarm

Item - Sitrus Berry

Lilligant

Sleep Powder

Mega Drain

Magical Leaf

Growth

Ability - Own Tempo

Roserade

Stun Spore

Magical leaf

Leech Seed

Grass Knot

Ability - Poison Point

TRINITY TOWER

Strong: Strong is Strong.

Trinity Tower was a ruin after the war; but recently, Fighting-Type Trainers have made the place a Dojo, training themselves and their Pokemon with discipline and restraint. The Gym Leader doesn’t do any of this. Strong uses absolute brute force to decimate his foes and underlings. Strong came to Trinity Tower because he heard that Fighting-Types were strong against Normal-Types. After wiping the floor with the trainers, he demolished the previous Leader to the point the man went off the grid in embarrassment. Even though his underlings’ favoured Pokemon counter his own, his ferocity and mercilessness lets his Normal-Type Pokemon stand victorious. If you can fight his brawn with brain, he gives you the Berzerk Badge, along with TM64, Explosion, which he is so very sad his Pokemon can’t use.

Strong - Normal

Ursaring

Brick Break

Lick

Slash

Feint Attack

Ability - Guts

Tauros

Payback

Stomp

Horn Attack

Rock Tomb

Ability - Anger point

Miltank

Rollout

Stomp

Milk Drink

Defense Curl

Ability - Scrappy

THE COMBAT ZONE

Cait: The Irish Cage Fighter!

The Combat Zone was once a theater, before the war. After the bombs dropped, it was turned into a fighting ring. It had actually decent customers and audiences, until raiders took over. But, throughout it all (excluding before the war), Cait was the star of the show. She beats her opponents down and down and down, whether with her fists or her Pokemons’. She used to be the 5th leader, but after the raiders took over, her mental health went on a rapid decline and consequently, so did her battle ability. Now, she’s far better at beating someone’s face in with a bat than she is with Pokemon. Her Pokemon are very strong, but she just can’t use their power to her advantage anymore. Her badge is the Trigger Rush badge, and she gives you TM08, Bulk Up. Also - your biggest threat isn’t her Machamp. That Stufful will destroy you, your team, and your will to live.

Cait - Fighting

Stufful

Brutal Swing

Brick Break

Bulk Up

Thunderpunch

Ability - Cute Charm

Item - Sitrus Berry

Machamp

Karate Chop

Focus Energy

Foresight

Submission

Ability - No Guard

Hitmonchan

Mach Punch

Bullet Punch

Ice Punch

Bulk Up

Ability - Iron Fist

GOODNEIGHBOR

Hancock: Of the People, For the People!

As the Mayor of GoodNeighbor, John Hancock doesn’t want to waste time and resources for an actual Gym. To challenge him, simply walk up and ask for a battle. Since Hancock is the Mayor, he doesn’t have a lot of time to spend battling, so he fights only a select few of his challengers. First, they have to get in good with his town. If the challenger doesn’t follow the rules of GoodNeighbor and disrespects anyone in his town, they’re not getting a battle. Second, they have to get a reputation as a strong trainer. Hancock doesn’t like wasting his time with overconfident people who more bark than bite, and he doesn’t like crushing dreams of younger trainers who just want to prove themselves. If you can somehow defeat his beloved Scizor, he gives you the Isotope Badge, along with TM28, Leech Life.

Hancock - Bug

Heracross

Fury Cutter

Aerial Ace

Night Slash

Double Team

Ability - Guts

Scizor

Bullet Punch

Fury Cutter

Wing Attack

Focus Energy

Ability - Technician

Item - Sitrus Berry

Scolipede

Bug Bite

Rollout

Iron Defense

Poison tail

Ability - Swarm

Galvantula

Thunder Wave

Electroweb

Bug Bite

Leech Life

Ability - Compound Eyes

LOCATION UNKNOWN

No one knows.

The Sixth Leader is almost impossible to find. It changes daily. No one has ever fought the same Gym leader. Also, there’s no set gym. The Gym Leader will either be always on the move, or in a undisclosed, forgotten ruin that no one can find. They always have the same Pokemon and sunglasses, however, so some suspect it’s the same person being a jerk. The League claims that the leader hasn’t changed in years, and that the badge is authorized, but since no one can find the Leader, the badge isn’t necessary to fight the league. Apparently, the badge is the Cloak & Dagger badge, and the assigned Technical Machine is TM99, Dazzling Gleam.

                                                 Deacon - Fairy

Sylveon

Light Screen

Swift

Draining Kiss

Misty Terrain

Ability - Cute Charm

Item - Lum Berry

Clefable

Sing

Minimize

Magical Leaf

Metronome

Ability - Magic Guard

Florges

Swagger

Moonblast

Petal Blizzard

Wish

Ability - Flower Veil

Mimikyu

Shadow Sneak

Double Team

Toxic

Feint Attack

Ability - Disguise

Item - Sitrus berry

CAMBRIDGE

X6-88: Pokemon Redefined.

Who is the strange man that appeared out of nowhere to take over when the last Gym Leader moved? No one seems to know. The most heartless of both the Gym leaders and the Elite 4, he has no mercy for his challengers, and little respect for his underlings. As much as he appears to hate pretty much everyone, he strangely seems to like the 8th Gym Leader, who hates him. Despite how ruthless he is with training and work, and how hard he pushes people to push their Pokemon, he has been seen using baby-talk with his own. His Pokemon are wickedly strong, but if you can melt them down, you win the Harmonic badge, with TM79, Frost Breath. Also, he’ll be your  #1 fan.

X6-88- Ice

Ninetales (Ice/Fairy)

Confuse ray

Ice Beam

Nasty Plot

Disable

Ability - Snow Warning

Item - Occa Berry

Aurorus

Thunder wave

Ancient Power

Aurora Beam

Take Down

Ability - Refrigerate

Glaceon

Hail

Frost Breath

Swift

Attract

Ability - Ice Body

Weavile

Embargo

Ice Punch

Night Slash

Beat Up

Ability - Pressure

Froslass

Will-o-wisp

Ominous wind

Destiny Bond

Frost Breath

Ability - Cursed Body

Sanctuary (Previously Cambridge and Boston Airport)

Danse: Shock and awe!

Danse’s old Gym was at the Cambridge Police Station, and then the Brotherhood Prydwen when it showed up. His battle tactics got the attention of the League, and they basically harassed him to accept. He only did because being a Gym Leader gives him and his Pokemon plenty of exercise and training. The supplies given as a ‘welcome’ gift from the E4 and the good rep he was getting for the Brotherhood didn’t hurt either. However, something happened within the Brotherhood, and Danse was kicked out. He’s still a Gym Leader, despite the protest of one of the Elite 4, and he now shares Sanctuary with Codsy. He has a shiny Skitty named Cupcake. His badge is the Authority Badge, and he gives you TM91, Flash Cannon. After being exiled, his mental health, much like Cait, has gone with the wind. Not only is he too mentally out of it to perform the best he can, his Pokemon are also thrown out of the loop, and are worried to death over him. He’s not nearly as powerful as he was a month ago. 

Danse - Steel

Aegislash

Shadow Sneak

King’s Shield

Sword’s Dance

Sacred Sword

Ability - Stance Change

Metagross

Meteor Mash

EarthQuake

Hammer Arm

Agility

Ability - Clear Body

Item - Sitrus berry

Aggron

Earthquake

Avalanche

Giga Impact

Screech

Ability - Rock Head

Lucario (Mega stone)

Dragon Pulse

Aura Sphere

Psychic

Waterpulse

Ability - Steadfast/Adaptability

Item - Lucarionite

ELITE 4

Curie: Though dangerous, battle is quite vigorous exercise!

Everyone in the League agrees: Curie is an absolute angel, too good for the Commonwealth. As an Elite 4 member, though, she’s the most hellish devil from the darkest pit of...hell. An avid lover of poison types, and prodigal with potions and status healers, Curie doesn’t fight offensively, but defensively, planning out her strategy to outlast her opponents until the poisons and confusion does the damage for her. Honestly, she only uses poison types because studying them helps her find cures and medicines, which she gladly shares with anyone. After battling her, she’ll heal your Pokemon and give you more supplies, whether you win or lose. Curie won’t let you give up. She has an Audino that she uses as a nurse to heal both people and Pokemon. It has little pom-poms to cheer you on as you battle Curie.

Curie - Poison

Venusaur

Petal Dance

Poison Powder

Leech Seed

Sludge Bomb

Ability - Overgrow

Vileplume

Sunny Day

Sludge Bomb

Sleep Powder

Grassy Terrain

Ability - Chlorophyll

Gengar

Toxic

Facade

Confuse Ray

Shadow Ball

Ability - Cursed Body

Item - Leftovers

Scolipede

Baton Pass

Sword’s Dance

Iron Defense

Ability - Speed Boost

Dragalge

Dragon Pulse

Sludge Bomb

Water Pulse

Smokescreen

Ability - Poison Point

Elder Maxson: Ad Victoriam.

Intelligence, strength, power. These are some of many words used to describe Arthur Maxson, the Elder of his army, the Brotherhood of Steel. As the the Elder, Maxson personally makes sure his soldiers know what it means to be a Pokemon trainer. It isn’t about strength, defense, or speed, but raw determination, discipline, and respect for your team. Elder Maxson radiates power and generates respect. He stands tall, so his soldiers and Pokemon may look up to him. He walks with confidence, so his soldiers and Pokemon may march besides him with hope and vigor. Also, he’s kind of...racist. And pretty much anyone that isn’t a BoS soldier hates him. Has tried to personally kill the 7th and 8th gym leader - stopped because if he succeeded, he’d be booted from the E4, which he wants the BoS to have a firm foothold in. 

Elder Maxson - Dragon

Altaria

Cotton Guard

Dragon Pulse

Flamethrower

Sing

Ability - Natural Cure

Flygon

Dragon rush

Earth power

Sand Attack

Faint Attack

Ability - Levitate

Garchomp

Dig

Dragon Claw

Double Edge

Brick Break

Ability - Rough Skin

Item - Sitrus Berry

Haxorus

Dragon Dance

Dragon Rush

Iron Tail

Reversal

Ability - Rivalry

Kommo-o

Clanging Scales

Dragon Dance

Fire Punch

Poison Jab

Ability - Bulletproof

MacCready: ‘Nother notch on my rifle!

Robert Joseph MacCready - a name that will bring a myriad of reactions depending on who you mention it to. Either despised or adored, people can agree on one thing only - the young man is way too good for his age. Picking up both a sniper rifle and a Fletchling at a young age to protect his people, MacCready is rude, greedy, materialistic - and a total family guy. His Togekiss and Drifblim were his wife’s before she died. He uses multiple tactics to win, and fights dirty. Defensive strategies and accuracy are key to reaching the Champion. If you lose, expect raspberries and ‘L’s and ‘neener neener neener’.

MacCready  - Flying

Braviary

Hone Claws

Sky Drop

Rock Slide

Crush Claw

Ability - Defiant

Togekiss

Nasty Plot

Aura Sphere

Air Slash

Sweet Kiss

Ability - Serene Grace

Drifblim

Amnesia

Nasty Plot

Baton Pass

Shadow Ball

Ability - Aftermath

TalonFlame

Flare Blitz

Brave Bird

Steel Wing

Roost

Ability - Gale wings

Item - Sitrus Berry

Noivern

Hurricane

Dragon pulse

Supersonic

Water Pulse

Ability - Telepathy

Valentine: Peering deep into the darkness, wondering, fearing.

As the Commonwealth’s best (only) detective, Nick Valentine is always working. His room in the Elite 4 is his office, with papers stacked to the ceiling. His main office/workplace is in Diamond City, with his secretary, Ellie Perkins, running it while he’s away. It’s odd that he uses Dark-types, but people think he only uses them to fit his “Noir-Detective” aesthetic. They’re right and wrong. They do fit his aesthetic, especially with the black/pink color scheme with his Psychic types, but Dark types have a knack for solving mysteries. That knack, paired again with his Psychic Pokemon, help him immensely with cases. That, and their mischievousness is cute to him. Dogmeat, a shiny wild Mightyena, is often consulted for his nose-work.

Valentine - Dark/Psychic

Umbreon

Toxic

Confuse Ray

Double Team

Shadow Ball

Ability - Synchronize

Zoroark

Hone Claws

U-Turn

Night Slash

Embargo

Ability - Illusion

Absol

Future Sight

Taunt

Sucker Punch

Charge Beam

Ability - Super Luck

Espeon

Psychic

Morning Sun

Calm Mind

Attract

Meowstic

Psybeam

Reflect

Sucker Punch

Ability - Infiltrator

Gardevoir

Psychic

Signal Beam

Draining Kiss

Hypnosis

Ability - Trace

THE CHAMPION

Preston Garvey: Protect the people at a minute’s notice.

Before the Minutemen army collapsed, they prided themselves on their Pokemon. Every Soldier was given a team that could best help with building settlements and protecting them. Water, Electric, and Grass types were mandatory, for growing food, electricity, and clean water. Preston joined the ranks with a Mudbray he had since he was a kid, born from his dad’s Mudsdale. It was the only Pokemon of his to survive Quincy. After the massacre, he made it his goal to be strong enough to never let history repeat itself. After Sanctuary was able to defend itself, he set out to find weak Pokemon, as he was raised to believe the strongest creatures start out as the smallest. Now, that determination can be seen by trainers all across the Commonwealth. Preston has the ability to carry out the protection he swore to the people of the wasteland, and he will mow down anyone or thing who threatens them. 

Preston - Mixed types

Dragonite

Outrage

Fire Punch

Roost

Thunderbolt

Ability - Inner Focus

Milotic

Water Pulse

Rain Dance

Ice Beam

Dragon Breath

Ability - Marvel Scale

Jolteon

Rain Dance

Thunder

Signal Beam

Shadow Ball

Ability - Volt Absorb

Arcanine

Extreme Speed

Flamethrower

Sunny Day

Solar Beam

Ability - Intimidate

Mudsdale

Bulldoze

Iron Defense

Superpower

Heavy Slam

Ability - Own Tempo

Item - Leftovers

Sawsbuck

Horn Leech

Aromatherapy

Sunny Day

Wild Charge

Ability - Chlorophyll

Item - Heat Rock

[icarus-imagines]

Lance McClain X Reader

Hello! Can I have an Lance (From Voltron) X Reader please?

I am terribly sorry if this is sad and evokes some dark themes. If anybody wishes for a happy ending just send in a request for a Part 2 and I will be sure to give the Readers something happier and much fluffier. A bittersweet ending I will thoroughly enjoy writing.

I was more than merely influenced for writing such a depressing story due to listening to Sam Smith on repeat. Beautiful and lovely, but quite sad. It was a result I felt happy with though and hope everybody enjoys it.

-Mod Icarus ଘ(੭ºัᴗºั)━☆ﾟ

Word Count: 2,413

Category: Voltron

~Blue Boy~

Something was wrong.

As of current you were, in most people's words, safe. Located in a secure position away from the middle of the battle commencing it may be by pure luck nobody had yet to spot you. Not too far away though you could hear the loud battle cries of both your treasured teammates and the relentless Galra.

Body leaning against a cement wall your hand clutched your shoulder that was covered with armor similar to what the traditional paladins of the lions wore. Once a shiny and gleaming (F/c) suit, it was now morphed into something dirty and marred. Clinks and dents were spotted here and there. A bit of blood was on the leg, half of it dry and crusted, but the most sickening thing about that fact was that the blood was not yours.

Trained by the Altean palace princess Allura ruled over you were able to grow stronger in a shorter amount of time than expected. You never thought you would have been able to become a professional with wielding a sword. But here you were a few or so months later a (F/c) sword tightly held in your grasp as you took down foreign aliens.

Rising a sluggish hand to your shoulder you grabbed it tightly with a shaky inhale. It ached with every sharp movement you made and for a second you wondered if it had become dislocated in the heat of war. You pleaded desperately for it not to be true. A dislocated shoulder during something like this would be horribly bad luck. Hopefully, everything would end so you could recover back in the safe confines of the palace.

Sidestepping it took only a few seconds to become one with the battle. Seemingly dragging on you felt as if you were going to cry. Your shoulder was sending hot white flashed to appear across your vision when you swung at just the right yet wrong angle. Even so, you pushed onwards, determined to get this over with and finally be worry-free again.

Just when everything looked as if it was beginning to dissipate a pang of hurt sliced through your heart. But the thing about it was that you were alone, without an opposing battle partner. Everything was perfectly fine from what you could tell.

Allura and Coran were faring well.

Shiro and Keith were finishing off the last few remaining stragglers who dared fight more.

Hunk and Pidge were tending to the wounded of this alien planet's natives.

And last but not least Lance was-

Lance.

Where was Lance!?

Fear almost made bile rise from the depths of your stomach to sting in the deep backside of your throat, but you swallowed it up quickly. Adrenaline was immediately born with your deep thoughts. Sneaking their way into your bloodstream your legs caught up with your much more frightened mind. Moving of their own accord you dragged forward with no true destination. All you knew is you had to find Lance no matter what. Even if he was safe. Laughing at his own jokes while flirting with some beautiful alien species from this planet you could not warrant the chance of him being lost.

What if he was captured. Kidnapped and taken away from you? Was it possible he was slain? Struck down by an enemies sharp weapon?

No.

Lance was stronger than that.

He was much stronger than he ever gave credit for. The wielder of a paladin bayard belonging to the blue lion that transformed into an energy assault rifle, you were sure he could hold his own in a fight. You had witnessed it many times before so why out of all those times would he suddenly be taken down? Every scenario that filtered through your mind could not create one where Lance had been taken down. It just seemed too bizarre. Too impossible.

Yes, he had been tossed around his fair share of times but so had everybody else. Near death experiences were an end result everybody knew was more than possible, yet you did not think this way. Your background was unique, just like theirs. Death could be an option but the hardships in your lied denied you to ever think of such a thing.

Death is not an option.

Lance is not dead.

With those thoughts on your mind, you frantically ran to every place you last saw lance. Through the dense alien jungles, you carried on with quick footsteps. Once you had even tripped, yet even when your knee had been hit wrong and sent a shocked pain to the area you stood up with only a muffled groan from the inside of your mouth. The pain you were experiencing would have to wait to be felt. For all, you felt right now was fear, anticipation, and a tug of fright.

It was not until you came upon a body leaning against a tree did tears begin to fill the top brim of your waterline in your eye.

Lance.

He is alive.

"Lance, you goofball," you managed to huff out when you lowered yourself down onto your knees, ignoring the dull pain, to get closer to him. "Where have you been? I have been so worried. I..."

(E/c) eyes scanned his body, breath becoming rigid and anxious in barely a few seconds. His once slick blue paladin armor was splattered with blood. From where you view him it looked as if he was in the red lion's paladin armor instead of the blue lions.

His head was hanging too low for comfort, ends of his hair drenched in blood, a crimson human fluid. It was also dripping from his nose and mouth, curving over his slim lips and chin. More camouflaged over his black covered hands. It was hard to tell what you were truly looking at. With so much blood you couldn't tell if it was coming from his own body or if it was just a tough opponent who had not stopped until they bled out when fighting.

Your voice was shaky as a hand slipped up to cup his cheek, raising his head to look at you, the helmet already taken off and left on the grassy floor of the forest. The pain in your shoulder was persistent but your worry was far greater than any of it. Unfortunately, his eyelids were closed you came to discover when you had risen him up. Head heavy in the palm of your hand you realized you are holding the world in your hand

He is your whole world.

"Lance, please... please tell me this is not your blood. This can't possibly be yours, can it?" You asked fruitlessly. The head in your hands gave no sign of any movement to any of your talking. "Lance..."

After a few more calls of his name and small shakes on his shoulder, Lance finally cracked open his eyes like there were hundred-pound weights dragging them down. Still heavily placed in your hands he blinked open his eyes. Black eyelashes fluttered open slowly, the iris inside blown but progressively shrinking from the radiating suns strong light.

"Y/n..." His voice makes your heart quiver in its bony cage of ribs. It sounds so broken and hoarse It must be hard for him to speak but he tries to do so anyway. "Glad...I am glad...to see you..."

You shush him softly as more blood dribbles out of his mouth from his actions. "Don't speak, you need to conserve your energy."

Your voice may be soft and ever so gentle, but inside an earthquake is splitting open. In the earth of it, all your fears and worries are conjoining and rising out. Questions such as 'How could I let this happen?' and 'It's my fault.'

Taking off your helmet carefully, both your hands begin to move to the back of his head, fingers curling into the locks of short, dark brown hair you adored so much. You lean close, so close that when you hug him you swear you can hear everything around you. His head rests in your chest, nestled there like a safe haven. You can hear his soft, almost labored breathing as he tries to fill his lungs the best he can. Taking in as much oxygen before he dispels it in a shaky exhale of breath. His skin is hot, beating hotly with a pulse that misses a few counts here and there.

He smells of blood, The sickly metallic flavor of it clings to your taste buds even when your mouth is clamped shut. Wetness springs from your tear ducts and rolls down your cheeks as the thoughts inside your head overflow.

He shouldn't smell of blood. He shouldn't be bleeding out. He shouldn't be fighting for every breath he takes. He shouldn't be fighting the need to succumb to death's embrace.

Heshouldn'tHeshouldn'tHeshouldn'tHeshouldn'tHe'shouldn'tHeshou-

"Thank you...for...for staying here with me," he manages to mumble out, his breath warm against the open skin of your neck. "To think....I...I never got to tell you..."

You separate from him, his head still in your hands as it leans back a bit so he can look up at you with no trouble or moving on his part.

"Tell me?" You ask confused, a tear dripping down your cheek. "Tell me what?"

His smile targets towards you feel like sunshine on your (S/c) flesh. A bright shining aura of radiating heat. But his expression is overall a vision of pure solemn. Dark blue eyes, like the deep oceans of Earth, spring up like a sparkling geyser with water. Tears of his own fall down his face in perfect lines. He looked beautiful right there. Crying. It may have been thought of as a cruel thought, but he was an angel. An angel was crying in front of you. Emotions bubbling up and exploding like water erosion shapeshifting the Earth's soil to create something new and more extraordinary than before.

"I love you."

His hand comes up to let his tanned fingertips touch your cheekbone. With a slow thumb, he brushes away a stray tear in his way. His movements up to now have all been slow. A sluggish style similar to that of an Earth animal called a sloth. But suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, they are sharp.

Surging forward faster than you are able to react to he closes the gap between your faces. Warm lips meet yours in a feverish sense of hurry and apparent urgency. It is delectably warm, that flesh against your own in a waltzing dance. If his lips were food you were sure he would be something akin to blueberries.

His other unoccupied arm wraps around your body to grasp tightly at a shoulder. It stays there secure and unyielding in its position. You feel safe. Safer than you have ever been in your entire life. You want to stay here. Stay this way forever, even if it may seem like an impossible thing.

This blue boy was full of love and affection beyond measure underneath the surface.

In a slow-motion like state of deliriousness, Lance parts away from you far too soon for your liking. Before you can protest he look up at you and for a second he smiles. Lips quivering in the effort to rise in the process before his eyes closed shut and lock away his oceanic orbs of crystal light. Heartbreaking into a million pieces you only stay stock still as his weight leans forward and slumps against your chest.

The arm that had once held you safe in this warm engulfing hug let's go without notice. It slumps down, laying perfectly still with its palm up in the green grasses of the jungle floor. You can hear your heart pounding just like the slam that seemed to come when the arm had fallen. Blood is pulsing in your ears, a headache forming quickly from the noise. The bang and ricochet in your skull, all your bones simultaneously panging with hurt from the foreign impacts.

His body is still. So strangely still like a statue against your own that you almost forget to breathe, to function correctly. He is heavy, heavier than anybody had ever been when leaning leisurely against you. It is like the body, in its one way, is telling you of its burden. That life has left the inside of the body it once filled.

This is death.

"Lance, come on your heavy," you laugh bitterly, the sound rough on your tongue when you try to deny the fact he may actually not be with you anymore. "Lance, if you are sleeping you have to...You have to wake up."

Your hands take hold of him so he can lean into them as you move away to peer at his face. He looks to be in a deep peaceful but you know better.

"Lance...please! You can't leave me! Not right when I know how you feel! Not when I-" Your sobs elevate as you spring forward to nuzzle into his neck in an effort to keep him here with you. His once warm skin is quickly growing a deadly cold, but you care not to think of it at the moment.

"Not when I feel the same way..."

The blue boy with oceans for eyes and seas for blood in his veins is gone.

The blue boy with his flirtation and jokester ways is gone.

The blue boy who you had discovered shared your feelings is gone.

"I love you, Lance. I love you so much. So much Lance. I love you so much."

I love you...my blue boy...

[pulseweird-blog]

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[themageof-blood]

Mage of Breath

Mage of Breath.

Powers: Follows the path of least resistance, can make things lighter, can sense things through the wind, master escape artist.

Possible Ability Names:

Read the Wind: The Mage utilizes knowledge of the wind.

At low level this allows the Mage to make best guesses on location and directions from the feeling of the wind.

At mid level the Mage may feel the world around them through the wind.

At its highest level the Mage can feel how the wind relates to all things for miles around the.

Escape Artist: The Mage utilizes their knowledge of freedom to escape traps.

At low level they can intuit how to escape chains, cages, or other traps.

At mid level they can harness the breeze to assist in their escape.

At highest level they can use wind to free themselves, creating new paths.

Voice of Liberation: The Mage's late game ability. The Mage utilizes their knowledge of freedom and untethering to inspire others.

The Land of Scrolls and Turbulence

Description: A mountainous land of massive stone pillars and strong winds. The dodo consorts once lived peacefully in the towns mounted on the spires, utilizing the regular differences in wind pressure to travel between areas like an ethereal elevator.

But that was long ago, before the denizen came. Now the wind pressure changes are seemingly random, and even when it is predictable it's so strong and happening in so many different areas it's dangerous, not quite a storm so much as the air pressure rising so much its as though the sky is having an earthquake.

Land Marks: Windfall Workhouse: A large building at the base of the pillars where the consorts who've been knocked down from the towns are put to work for the denizen, basic underlings spawned from black slime pits within, guarded primarily by Razor Winds with a single boss within. Freed consorts will put their efforts together to make one last thing, something of the player's choice.

The Aerial Archive: A floating building that is directed by the turbulent wind of the land, containing scrolls from the beginning of LoSaT's history to the present day, as well as containing knowledge of wind and freedom based magic, outlawed by the denizen. Thoth may appear within, and may be fought for a massive grist hoard, or if persuaded, may teach the player magic.

The Pressure Pulse: A single point in the sky where the harsh changes in the air resonate from, stretching out throughout the land like the roots of a massive plant, the air-pressure so solid it can crack stone. The Core Breeze can be found here.

The True Summit: The highest point of the land, guarded by a boss, and hiding the path to the denizen; nearly impossible to reach without slaying the Core Breeze and righting the Pressure Pulse.

Unique Enemies: Bubble Breaker: A living air bubble with a tendency to explode (stats: N.A. Levels from 1 (strong enough to knock the player off their feet) to 10 (strong enough to blast through a vault door).)

Cliff Flier: Vicious, reptilian/avian creatures that alternate between crawling along the pillars and riding the turbulent breeze to feed on any unlucky enough to be found by them (medium strength, speed, agility, low intelligence, high health, glide strike, feather shot, fang spit).

Solid Air: Sentient air that can solidify into chains, walls, cubes, spikes, and occasionally even full golems; when defeated they leave behind fragments of solid air crystals (low speed and agility, high durability and strength, medium intelligence).

Razor Wind: An offshoot of solid air that becomes semi-solid to form air blades (medium intelligence and strength, high speed and agility, low durability).

Thoth: The avian lord of knowledge who presides over history, language, and magic (immense intelligence, high magic use, medium speed, strength, and agility, high health and durability, casting of the gods, wise words, summoning).

Core Breeze: A non-sentience denizen construction that resides in the Pressure Pulse, causing the shifting in the air that alters things across the land (high durability, mindless, high health, breeze blast, air crush, mini-storm, focus pulse).

Challenge: Use knowledge of wind to bypass the air pressure and reach the denizen.

[billiousblog]

Power Hand Tools - Earthquake Auger 9800K

If you're looking to buy a new earth auger, you should look into the Earthquake Auger 9800K. This is one of the top-rated augers on the market, with a 173cc 4-cycle engine and CARB compliance. It has a heavy-duty transmission and a welded steel handlebar. It has a flex coil shock absorber, which makes it incredibly easy to control. Plus, it's comfortable to use and can be used in any location.

The Earthquake Auger has a 36-inch boom for easier drilling. It also pairs with Earthquake 2 man powerheads and models. It has a Flex Coil Shock Absorber, so you can drill safely and comfortably in any type of soil. It's easy to operate and has a durable powder-coated body. The Earthquake Auger comes with a telescopic handle to accommodate users of all sizes.

Another great feature of the Earthquake Auger is its length. Its 36-inch length allows for better drilling and makes the work much easier. Other augers skimp on length but don't have the same quality. Other important features include a fishtail point and a shock absorber. It also has steel welded handlebars and ball bearings and alloy gears. It's safe to use and can be easily maneuvered by two people.

The Earthquake Auger is an indispensable tool for any drilling project. This 36-inch long drill makes drilling much easier and is compatible with Earthquake 2 man and Dually powerheads. Its flex coil shock absorber helps you drill more efficiently. The auger comes with a 10" auger bit for easier hole drilling. The Earthquake Auger is an excellent choice for any size job.

We`ve compiled a list of Earthquake Auger that represent the best bang for your buck on https://billious.com/best-earthquake-augers/.

The Earthquake Auger is a 36-inch-long piece of equipment that makes drilling easier. It pairs with any Earthquake 2 man powerheads. Using the Earthquake Auger with the Earthquake model is a good idea as it matches all models. The unit also has a flex coil shock absorber, which makes it comfortable to handle. You can even install the auger with the help of a bungee cord.

The Earthquake Auger is a 36-inch-long tool that is ideal for drilling projects. Its flex coil shock absorber helps you drill more accurately, and it pairs with any Earthquake powerheads. Its 80% bond strength will be reached in an hour, which means it is an ideal choice for those who are not sure of the best way to do it. It is also easy to maneuver and a great investment for your landscape.

The Earthquake Auger pairs with the Earthquake model and the two-man version. Its flexible arm design makes drilling easier. The Earthquake 2 inch Powerhead includes a Fishtail Hole Digger Bit, and it has a durable powder-coated finish. Designed for maximum power, the Earthquake Auger is a must-have tool. Its ergonomically designed handles are comfortable and ergonomic, and the auger is a great choice for a home or office.

The Earthquake 9800K Powerhead is a heavy-duty powerhead that features an adjustable handle for better control. The 160cc 4-cycle engine is ideal for large jobs. The Earthquake 9800H is designed to tackle the biggest jobs, and it is constructed of solid steel. The machine features alloy gears and a three-inch centrifugal clutch. There are two-man controls, so you don't have to worry about one person operating the Earthquake Auger.

The Earthquake 9800K Powerhead has a Kohler engine that gives it high power. It also has a welded steel cage that protects it from impacts. The powerful engine also comes with an 18-inch extension. The E43 Earth Auger is a heavy-duty machine, and can be operated by two people. It is designed for drilling tough soils, and the fishtail point helps center the auger while drilling.

The Earthquake 10310 Earth Auger Powerhead has a centrifugal clutch that is easy to use. Its steel gear transmission provides powerful power and low vibration, making it perfect for digging and excavating. The machine weighs about 24 pounds and is able to handle two people at a time. It is also easy to operate, and comes with a five-year warranty. The E43 Earthquake is an excellent choice for your home or business.

[augiepets]

Five important dog products and why should you have them?

When you first bring your pet home, they may require Pet Products. You don't have to go overboard—you can always improve and add to your dog products once you've figured out what they like—but they should feel at ease.

Finding the dog products may be a lot of fun, especially when there are so many to select from. Take a stroll through any pet store, big-box shop, or department store.

You'll find luxury meals and snacks, plush beds, toys of all shapes and sizes, and even doggie haute couture at any pet shop, big-box retailer, or department store, basically any and all dog products. It will be tempting to spend a lot of money on your new pet.

Image Alt Text: Top Five Dog Products

Image Title: Top Five Dog Products

Description: Top Five Dog Products essentials to ensure a seamless transition for your pet.

To begin, gather the following Top Five Dog Products essentials to ensure a seamless transition for your pet.

The collar: First and foremost, your dog will require a collar, it is a primary dog product. At least one collar is required for your dog. This is one of the Top Selling Dog Products 2021.

A “flat collar” consisting of nylon, cloth, or leather and secured with a buckle or a quick-release clasp is the safest basic collar for regular usage. This is the collar that should be worn by your dog, complete with identification and licence tags.

Check the fit of the collar on a regular basis, especially as your dog grows, and tweak or replace it if it no longer fits. Two fingers should be able to fit between the collar and your dog's neck.

A collar, the most important dog products, that hangs looser than that might get hooked on items and trap or strangle your dog, while a collar that hangs tighter than that is too restrictive for comfort and safety.

If you adopt from a shelter or a breeder, they may provide you with a collar, but chances are you'll want one dog products that matches your style. When looking for a dog collar, choose one that fits your dog properly, has a quick-release clasp for safety, and is sturdy.

When looking for a dog collar, choose one that is the correct size for your dog, has a quick-release clasp for safety, and a robust D-ring for attaching a leash.

Dog products like dog tags may also be attached to extra loops on collars like this one from Blueberry Pet so they don't get in the way of your leash. On the day you bring your puppy home, they will require a collar and leash.

Image Alt Text: Dog Products

Image Title: Dog Products

Description: You should plan to buy multiple collars, when you purchase dog products, as your puppy grows older and outgrows them.

Your dog's dog licence and identification tag, which contains your name and phone number, are kept in a collar, which can be basic or elegant. The collar connects to the leash, which you'll need to take your dog for a stroll.

Choose an adjustable nylon collar with a two-piece buckle for your dog's first few collars. The collar should be snug but not too tight so that it does not fall off; two fingers should be able to fit between the collar and the pup's neck. You should plan to buy multiple collars, when you purchase dog products, as your puppy grows older and outgrows them.

During walks or obedience training, the leash, which attaches to the collar, provides you control. The leash, as well as the hardware that connects the leash to the collar, should be sturdy and a well-made dog product.

The leash should also feature an easy-to-grasp loop for your convenience. When you initially get your puppy, use a shorter 4-foot leash; after you enrol in obedience instruction, you'll need longer leashes.

Identification: Your puppy will need to be identified. While identification (ID) tags and microchips are two alternatives, it's a good idea to utilise both.

This should be at the top of your list of canine necessities and is one of the best dog products. Even if your dog is microchipped, ID tags customised with their name can assist them find their way home as quickly as possible if they escape or become lost. ID Tags are important dog products.

In the event of a fire, earthquake, or other emergency, ID tags should be worn on a flat collar (not a martingale-style) 24 hours a day, seven days a week for most dogs.

An ID tag is a plastic or metal medallion that hangs on your dog's collar dog product that has particular contact information that will help you find your dog if she runs away.

Some individuals post the dog's name, as well as their own name, phone number, and address; others, for safety concerns, just list their name and phone number, leaving out any information about the dog.

List your name and the best method to reach you, whether it's a mobile phone, business phone, or home phone, at the absolute least.

Another viable option is a microchip. A microchip is a rice-sized device that stores a code in a database along with your contact information. When your dog is discovered, a staff member at the shelter uses a portable scanner to read the code on the microchip, which is injected between your dog's shoulder blades.

Image Alt Text: Dog accessories list

Image Title: Dog accessories list

Description: Consult your breeder and a professional groomer for advice on grooming dog accessories list

The code is then put into a database, which sends your name and phone number to the shelter, allowing you and your dog to be reunited. Always remember to register your contact information and keep it up to date.

You will obtain a numbered dog tag when you register your dog with your local municipality. This dog product device, when linked to your dog's collar, can help you find him if he ever gets lost. This figure, however, signifies little to the typical person on the street.

Purchasing a customised tag dog product for your dog is a great method to offer him with identification. Personalized tags are quite affordable and simple to get by. Include the name of your dog, your address, and your phone number (including area code).

Also, remember to secure the tag to your dog's collar. A tag is worthless if he doesn't wear it. A microchip is the most permanent type of identification.

If your dog is ever taken, a tag will be useless in locating him. Microchipping him would be a far more long-term and effective option. A canine microchip, about the size of a grain of rice, may be implanted beneath your dog's skin with a needle during a regular veterinarian appointment with no anaesthetic (usually between his shoulder blades).

The unique number assigned to your dog is then registered with the relevant business. A veterinarian or animal shelter worker can scan the chip to establish his identification if he is lost or stolen.

The crate: It is entirely up to you whether or not you crate train your dog, although many pet owners and expert trainers advocate it. Even if you aren't crate training, a crate dog product may serve as a comfortable dog-only space in a compact living space.

A portable plastic or soft-sided cage is ideal for transporting your dog safely. Crates and containment devices keep your new puppy in a restricted space where you can supervise and housetrain him, which is a requirement for every puppy owner looking for dog products.

When you bring your puppy home, the most important dog product you'll need is a dog crate or carrier, as well as an exercise pen, playpen, or gate. Stainless steel, plastic, and fibreglass are among the materials used to make hard-sided boxes and travel containers.

Though dog products stainless-steel cages will last a lifetime, the lightweight plastic and fibreglass types provide your puppy some protection and security when driving or travelling.

They also resemble a warm, inviting den, especially when paired with a plush bed or blanket. Make sure your dog can stand up, lie down, turn around, and stretch within the cage or carrier when picking one dog product.

Though dogs enjoy a close-in den-like environment, they still require some space — but not too much — to be comfortable. If you can't keep a close check on your puppy, you might want to invest in a pen or some baby gates to keep him contained.

Exercise pens are a collection of moveable wire panels that keep your dog contained in a certain area. They may be adjusted to fit almost any area. They are a must-have dog product.

He can't go where he shouldn't because of baby gates, which are designed to fence off limited regions. Many new dog owners are put off by the thought of a crate, yet the restricted area is like a comfortable cave to the dog.

Dogs and puppies like having a secure and private spot to cuddle up. Crates are available in a variety of materials, including wood, wire, and plastic.

Wooden cages are costly, heavy, and difficult to keep clean. People typically throw a blanket or towel over the wire cage to make it more cave-like.

Wire crates are easy to clean and allow adequate airflow for the dog. Plastic crates are lightweight, simple to clean, and may be used in a variety of climates.

If you have a puppy, a crate divider will assist you start the housetraining process by making the cage smaller. If the crate is too big for your dog, he can claim one portion as his resting area and the rest as his toilet area.

This first crate should be large enough to serve as a bedroom, not a master suite with its own bathroom. Its an important point to be noted when you are considering to buy dog products.

Image Alt Text: Best Dog Products 2021

Image Title: Best Dog Products 2021

Description: The Best Dog Accessories of 2021 · Go the extra mile with these pet products

Consult your breeder and a professional groomer for advice on grooming materials. Even pups will have to be groomed and taught how to behave while doing so.

His coat will need to be washed, combed, and brushed on a regular basis. His toenails will need to be cut, his ears will need to be cleaned, and his teeth will need to be brushed.

Read below for the complete Dog accessories list.

Blow dryer

Bristle brush

Comb

Conditioning spray

Cotton balls

Ear cleaning solution

Grooming table or grooming area

Nail clippers

Scissors

Shampoo and conditioner

Slicker brush

Styptic powder

Toothbrush and dog toothpaste

Towels

These are some of the Best Dog Products 2021

The bedding: Many pet owners desire soft, comfortable beds for their dogs, but if you're not sure whether your new dog is a chewer, you might want to go with one of these raised dog bed dog products instead.

The raised design of these beds, which include a steel frame wrapped in durable, PVC-coated fabric, will keep your dog cooler on hot days.

Dogs seem to enjoy this bed, and several reviewers point out that you can cover it with a blanket or towel if you want to offer your dog more comfort.

Your dog will require a comfortable bed for the first night she is at home. You may select from a variety of pillows, cushions, dog-sized sofas, and even memory-foam mattresses when your puppy has been housetrained and graduated from her crate to a genuine dog bed, all of the dog products which can be matched to your home's décor.

If you care about the environment, you may discover dog product beds that are filled with recyclable materials such as reused cotton or soda bottles. For odour and pest control, cedar chips can be placed into mattresses.

The covers on most mattresses are detachable and washable. Choose a modest to medium-sized dog product bed that will make her feel safe and comfortable.

Remove your dog's bedding from her kennel or take dog products away from her if she chews on it and ingests part of the foam or filling. This will avoid an intestinal obstruction. Provide her with a blanket or towel to sleep on until she has finished chewing.