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russellsppttemplates · 10 months ago

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I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)

People seem to forget you're dating Oscar

Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: jealous themes

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.

"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.

"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.

"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.

"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.

"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.

As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.

"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.

"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.

"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.

Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.

"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.

"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.

"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.

You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.

When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.

"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.

Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.

"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.

"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.

"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.

"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".

Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.

"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.

"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.

"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".

"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.

"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.

"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.

"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".

"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.

"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".

Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.

Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.

By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.

You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.

Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match

I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together

She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother

Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend

I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver

Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship

She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her

She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?

These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that

The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.

The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.

"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.

"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.

"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.

"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.

"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.

"Yes!", you answered loudly.

"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.

"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".

"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.

"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".

Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.

"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.

"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.

"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.

"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.

"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.

"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.

"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.

"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.

"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".

Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".

The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.

"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.

"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.

"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.

#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fluff

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missviviii · 1 year ago

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a/n: zayne my boo <3 im sobbing over the fact that the game killed off mc’s grandma and caleb 😭

ミ★ Love & Deep Space ミ★

pairing: zayne x fem!reader

warning(s): mentions of death, mentions of the explosion that killed mc’s grandma + childhood best friend (caleb) in game, spoilers(?)

Summary: Ever since that day, you’ve fallen in a deep, dark pit. Why did you have to be the one that they decide to destroy? Why did Caleb and Grandma have to die? Is it your fault they did? Zayne, as your primary care physician and a family friend, is concerned for your well-being.

“Sometimes, a small gesture is all it takes.”

The sound of the news on your TV, the thundering rain outside, the sound of the cars driving by your apartment—it all blurs out as you stared at the TV screen, eyes dead and unfocused on the news of the Wanderers attacking and the explosions. Some 22 casualties, two deaths. Grandma and Caleb. His necklace that you bought him as a goodbye gift when he left for the Aerospace Academy sits beside a picture of you, him, and Grandma on the coffee table, the cheerful smiles making you wished that you could revisit time.

Your apartment, once somewhat organized and clean, is now messy with things being knocked down and dirty dishes long discarded. You stare at the one last thing your Grandma left for you, some..tablet(?) with a final letter on it. You haven’t gotten the energy or the ability to open it. It pains you, seeing that you haven’t visited for so long yet when you do, this was the time her house had to explode right in front of you, flames engulfing the house and the only thing that remained was Caleb’s necklace.

“I miss you, Grandma..” You mumbled to nobody, rubbing the tears threatening to spill out your eyes as you glanced down at the item she left you with. Besides that, a small box of her old recipes of those notecards, and other small things that she had entrusted to you years before.

Around you was your laptop, papers and files on the latest Wanderer attacks around you. Yes, Captain Jenna dismissed you and said that you should take some days off to regain your energy, since you haven’t been getting the sleep or the energy you needed, but you just couldn’t.

Your door opened, yet you didn’t bother to look at who entered. “Still sitting in front of the TV?” A familiar voice spoke out, flipping the light switch on and shutting the door behind him. It was Zayne, a long time family friend and your primary care physician. “You haven’t eaten,” he bluntly says as he sets a bag of food on your table and walked into the kitchen. He bites back a sigh, knowing that you were going through a tough time, and people tended to discard everything and grieve and grieve their hearts out.

“Hello to you too, Zayne,” you replied as you shut off the news and got up off your sofa. You pile up all the papers and files you’ve scattered around and set them on the coffee table before you walk into the kitchen as Zayne is cleaning up your dirty dishes. He checks in on you whenever he’s free or when he’s off his shift. He looks back at you, only making a small hum of acknowledgment before cleaning up your dirty kitchen. You looked terrible—eyes red and puffy from crying, obvious eye bags, and the sparkles from your eyes were gone.

You yawn as you take out a bowl and some utensils for whatever food he brought in for you. You unpacked the bag as he cleaned up the dishes you couldn’t bother doing last week. Potatoes, avocado on the side, tuna salad, salmon and rice you said to yourself as you took out the food that he had carefully backed in those plastic containers for you. Then you took out the last thing. Cookie..dough? He remembered your favorite childhood snack. The kind of cookie dough you liked.

“Your grandma gave me a recipe for the cookie dough. She said that if she couldn’t make it, I should since it lightens your mood,” Zayne says as he puts your clean dishes back into the cabinet. He dries his hand off before walking over to you, watching how you stare at it like a piece of gold. Disbelief and shock were etched on your face.

Zayne puts his hand on your back, soothingly rubbing circles as you opened the container and took a bite. Your eyes almost brimmed with tears again. You could remember how your grandma used to bake in the kitchen and you’d always sneak a bite or two of the cookie dough, no care in the world if you could get salmonella.

“Thank..you, Zayne,” you finally said, turning around tightly hugging him. He was a bit hesitant at first, but he put his hand on your head, massaging your scalp as he looked down at you with a gentle look on his face.

“..You’re welcome. I miss her too.”

Zayne’s eyes looked away at the picture on the counter of your grandma. She didn’t have to go out this way.

#love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #vivi’s writing✫彡 #writing #i wanna write #x reader #fanfiction #for funsies #i almost cried #fanfic #my darling <3 #this game is so good #send me asks #love & deepspace #love & deepspace fluff #little bit of angst

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 11 months ago

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Steal Your Heart (Part 1)

When the calling card of the infamous Knave of Hearts arrives, he’ll rob his victims blind of their most treasured items on the appointed date. Enter ace detective Yuu accompanied by rookie cop Deuce Spade, both seeking to apprehend the Knave and bring him to justice.

Will they succeed, or will the phantom thief steal their valuables--and their hearts--first?

This was originally meant to be one fic, but it was getting to be WAY too long. I decided to split it in half and release this part now and the second part (which I am still working on!) later. This first part focuses more on Yuu and Deuce; the second part will be more Yuu and Ace.

(Please note: there are slight romantic implications in the form of an Ace/Yuu/Deuce love triangle, but those elements could also be interpreted as platonic or as just playful teasing with no additional meaning. It’s all in the eyes of the reader!)

Imagine this...

The police station’s waiting room was a familiar sight.

With time, the shiny checkered floor had grown matte, marred with scratches and scuffs from the boots that crossed it on a daily basis. Someone had taken to attempt to pretty up the otherwise dull space by hanging out abstract paintings on the cream-colored walls, and a vase of white roses dripping with red paint at the check-in desk. There was as even a glass tank which housed a small family of colorful hedgehogs.

Maybe they were meant to be welcoming—but really, they were more clashing than anything. Certainly not a fit for the stiff atmosphere of the station.

Still the fluorescent lightbulbs buzzed faintly, flickering in and out on occasion. The sound distracted from the old television mounted in a corner to entertain guests. It seemed to play commercials on a loop more often than it played actual shows. Currently, an Olympus Corp. branded tablet was being toted as the next big technological marvel—though the TV’s audio was fuzzy at best, and the image half static.

A coffee table pushed to the wall, stacked with a new stash of magazines. Whoever updated the reading materials—most likely the friendly senior officer with orange waves for hair—was into the latest trends, often selecting fashion magazines with high gloss finishes. A dangerously beautiful man graced the covers of many of them, dressed in the hottest summertime styles while looking the part of an untouchable ice queen.

As usual, the station was scented with coffee and tea, the beverages of choice for many officers burning the midnight oil or working overtime. The chief demanded it at times to meet deadlines and goals—he was such a stickler for them—and the caffeine helped those under him stay sane as they went about their duties.

In the afternoons, most were either out on lunch or on patrol, lessening the foot traffic at HQ. There was only one man in uniform, seated behind the desk and filing some papers.

Yuu shifted in their own chair, adjusting the rim of the baseball cap upon their head. They were suited in an inconspicuous jacket and sneakers, fingers toying with a badge in a pocket, hidden out of view. To the common man, they were a jogger--but one flash of their lilac gemstone bound to a black and white striped ribbon, and there would be no doubt as to what their true identity was.

The smell of coffee and tea grew stronger, and Yuu glanced up from behind the bill of their hat.

The bespectacled man from behind the front desk had approached. He had a sheepish smile, bearing a paper cup filled with hot brown liquid and a napkin with a donut laid upon it. Bright pink icing dusted with sugared violet petals crowned the golden fried pastry.

“Detective.”

“Mr. Clover.” Yuu nodded—a terse, polite greeting. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Please, just ‘Trey’ is fine.” He offered the treats, which they readily accepted. “Sorry for calling you in on such short notice. I’m sure you’re busy juggling your other cases—but I think I speak for the entire department when I say we’re thankful that you were able to make it.”

“No worries, I’m used to it in this line of work,” Yuu replied. “It must be something pretty urgent this time around. The Chief sounded frantic over the phone.”

Trey rubbed at his chin, grasping for the right words. “Let’s just say he’s not in the best of moods right now. You’ll need that sugar to get through this in one piece.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Just trying to avoid any trouble. You’d better finish them before you step into his office. You know how he hates it when there are crumbs or spills in there.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Yuu gave a joking salute before starting to pack away at their snack. The drink was the instant kind, and practically scalding, but it was easy to tell that the donut was homemade. The pastry, flaky on the outside and fluffy on the inside, dusted with sugar granules and sweet icing. “Wouldn’t want the Chief to be blowing a fuse again.”

“No, definitely not. He’s done too much of that lately.” Trey carefully eyed Yuu’s donut, now only half of it left. “Oh, but be sure to brush your teeth a thorough cleaning tonight, or I might have some problems with you. Cavities and staining are real dangers, you know.”

“Are you Assistant Chief of Police or my dental hygienist?” Yuu took a generous swig, then a bite just as big. “You worry too much about everything.”

“Ahahah… Do I? It’s a habit, I guess. Comes with the job.”

“That stressful, huh?”

“Well, I do what I can to smooth things over. Hopefully you can too. It’s been difficult on our department with the Chief all rattled up about the… situation.” He stopped himself. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it from him.”

So the case is top-secret, Yuu concluded with the last of their donut. Not to be discussed in the public.

They ran their tongue across the length of their mouth, lapping up the remains of sugary residue. “I understand. The details are not to leave his office.”

“You catch on quickly. No wonder why the Chief thinks so highly of your abilities.”

“Flattery’s a part of your tool kit as well, Trey?”

He raised his eyebrows. “… You’ve worked long enough with us to figure these things out. Nothing gets by you, it seems.”

“UGIGIGIGIGGGGHHHH!!”

The remainder of Yuu’s drink sloshed around in its cup, set into motion by the bloodcurdling scream.

A familiar man with orange waves erupted from the chief’s office, hurriedly slamming the door shut behind him. His typically relaxed features were arranged in panic, his hair frazzled.

“How did trying to calm him work out, Cater?” Trey inquired half-heartedly. It was a courtesy more than genuine curiosity.

“What do you think?” the senior officer groaned, sinking where he stood.

Yuu quickly finished their drink, tossing their trash—the evidence they had been there—away and then stood, adjusting their jacket. “That sounds like it’s my cue.”

“Yeah, it is.” Trey sighed, frowning. “He’s in a tough spot right. Be kind to him, will you? That’s all I ask.”

“You got it.” Yuu tipped their baseball cap as they passed the officer. “Thank you for the pick-me-up. I’ll be seeing you, then. Officer Diamond—get some rest.”

“Good luck.”

“You’ll need it, Yuu-chan! Brace yourself.”

The Police Chief was a small but serious man.

His character came through in his office space: books on law and order neatly arranged on shelves, papers and files alphabetically organized in their cabinets, and pens evenly spaced apart and arranged in rows. A crystal vase with deep red roses was poised beside his writing implements. A plate polished to a fine shine was propped up at his desk, reading: Riddle Rosehearts, Chief of Police.

Perched imposingly despite his short stature in his seat, he impatiently tapped a finger on an arm. Riddle’s face was a telltale red and veiny, proof of his earlier outburst, but was beginning to cool into a faint, smooth pink.

There was already another man in the office, sitting across from the Police Chief. He was pale and jittery in a suit the color of the night and sewn with blue sequins and glitter. A top hat rested upon his raven locks, the brim of it shading his hauntingly golden eyes.

Yuu removed their hat and, keeping it to their chest, gave a shallow bow as they entered. “Sir.”

One move out of line, one hair out of place, and they suspected he, in his volatile and vulnerable state, would explode anew.

“Welcome, Detective. I’m glad you could join us today.” Every word was a gruff puff of air, a leash with which to wrest control of his rage. Riddle gestured to the empty chair beside the nervous man. “Sit.”

Yuu obeyed, sinking into the seat offered. They casted a glance at the stranger adjacent to them, who was fiddling with his velvet-lined gloves.

“Mr. Crowley, this is the independent detective from Stray Cat Investigations that I had previously mentioned to you. The force has collaborated with them for a number of difficult cases in the past. Their wit and strategic skills have made them an invaluable asset. I thought it prudent to have them return to join us for your case as well.

“Yuu, meet Dire Crowley. He is the esteemed director and curator for the Sage’s Island Museum, and he’s come to us with his woes.”

“Hello, Mr. Crowley,” Yuu said politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He responded with a tired attempt at a smile. “Yes, you too.”

“Now that we’re all acquainted with one another...” Riddle produced a file from beneath his desk and placed it before himself. “Do you care to explain, or shall I?”

“I-I’ll elaborate!” Crowley crowed. He picked at a collection of keys belted to his waist, glistening gold under artificial lights. “The Sage’s Island Museum is planning a new exhibition on the Great Seven. As part of the exhibit, we are having many priceless artifacts flown in from all over Twisted Wonderland. We have donations from even Briar Valley’s royal family!!

“There will also be a great number of important VIP guests present for the grand opening of the exhibit. Royalty, wealthy benefactors, important diplomats, businessmen, celebrities... All individuals who wish to see their history on display! This is very important, you see!! M-My reputation--er, I mean, the museum’s reputation--is on the line here!!”

“Right.” Yuu nodded as they parsed through the information. “I’m following what you’re putting down. And where does your problem arise, Mr. Crowley?”

“Ah, now that,” Riddle smirked, “is the question of the hour.”

He opened his file, pulling out...

A single playing card, its back facing Yuu.

“I trust you’ve been keeping up with the news?”

“As any good detective would. There have been several robberies lately. Terrible, really.” Yuu’s expression clouded with concentration. “Hmm... but if it’s a potential robbery that you’re concerned about, Mr. Crowley... Doesn’t the Sage’s Island Museum boast a state-of-the-art security system from Olympus Corp.? I doubt the average thief would be able to bypass it.”

“That’s just the trouble,” Crowley loudly lamented.

“We are dealing with no ordinary thief,” Riddle clarified.

“It’s not?”

“No. Far from it.” The Police Chief exhaled sharply. “The string of robberies from before--they’re connected by a single thread, perpetuated by the same lone culprit. And now that scoundrel intends to continue his crime spree.”

“I’ve never heard of this before.”

“You shouldn’t have. It was a top-secret operation within my force since the first of its kind.”

“Why am I being told of it now?”

“Because, loathe as I am to admit it, the culprit has managed to outwit us and elude capture each and every time, He employs a bag of cheap parlor tricks and smoke and mirrors like the coward he is,” Riddle confessed begrudgingly. The blue-grey of his eyes were steely and stubborn. “A case as important as this needs the additional man—and brain—power, Detective.”

He placed the playing card down and slid it toward the detective. “This arrived in the morning at Mr. Crowley’s desk, the same as all the prior robberies. It gave him quite the fright. He rushed all the way to the station to beg for our assistance.”

“This is...” Yuu gingerly turned the card over, revealing a message scrawled on the other side in bright red gel ink. Each letter was big and bubbly, bursting with cheek and pomp.

Their heart jumped.

To the Old Crow that safeguards the Museum,

Heyo~

Your pockets look a lil’ heavy there, so I’ll help you out. (Aren’t I so kind?) Three days from now, I’ll claim one of your most prized treasures at the stroke of midnight.

Stand back and watch as I perform the greatest magic trick you’ll ever see... and make the portrait of the Queen of Hearts vanish before your very eyes. It’ll be a show-stopper!!

Until then,

Phantom Thief Knave of Hearts <3 ;3

P.S. Send the cops my regards, they can’t catch me lol (especially when their teapot tyrant’s patience is in SHORT supply geddit)

“They’re just flat-out announcing what their intentions are,” Yuu realized. They were half impressed, half shocked at the gall. “You said all of the victims received messages like this?”

“Calling cards, yes.” The fury had returned to Riddle’s features, causing his voice to spike and strain. “It’s infuriating!! What does he get off on, misappropriating magic as cheap parlor tricks for crime, writing notes in such a cocksure manner, taunting us to pursue him?!

“Not only is he poking fun at my height and committing a crime, but for mere SPORT?! For the THRILL of it?! He’s making a mockery of the good people of this island and of my men and our efforts to secure the peace!!”

The Police Chief slammed a fist down on his desk, rattling his glass vase and setting his perfectly straight pens askew. Crowley shrunk back in fear. “That Knave of Hearts...!! He must be stopped at all costs!!”

“Y-Yes, absolutely!!” Crowley chimed in. “For my--er, I mean, for the museum’s sake, this criminal must be put behind bars!! That’s why I’ve come to you, my good people!

“My taxpayer dollars help fund the police force, so I’ve come to collect on what its promise to protect and to serve the community!! Well, here’s the community at your doorstep asking you to protect and to serve!!”

“That’s why you want to put me on this case,” Yuu concluded, clasping the calling card to their racing heart. “To prevent this from going down tonight.”

“And furthermore,” Riddle added, “to investigate the identity of this so-called phantom thief once the museum is safely secured.”

“That’s a tall order, sir.”

“You’ll have access to our force’s resources, and to my officers. You will assist in overseeing this operation, with maps and outlines of the museum’s security detail from Mr. Crowley. We’ll cooperate to create a plan of attack to apprehend the Knave.”

“You misunderstand me. I never said I wouldn’t take the job,” Yuu coolly informed the Chief. Their mouth cocked upwards with confidence. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Oh, blessed day!! From the very bottom of my oh-so-generous heart, thank you very much!!” Crowley cried tearfully.

For the first time the entire briefing, Riddle smiled back at Yuu. “Hmph. That’s what I like to hear. Happy to be working with you again, Detective.”

“Likewise, Chief.”

The sun had already set when Yuu exited the station, the stars blinking into existence. Several hours had been spent picking the museum curator’s brain with a fine-toothed comb, looking over layouts, and memorizing security detail. The information had been well-stocked, and now came the time to let it marinate and bloom into plans.

Stuffing their hands in their pockets, Yuu shuffled down the sidewalk and past rows of parked vehicles. Ahead, neon lights flashed in and out, and the trains rattled on their well-worn tracks, buses and cars honking at each other, the chatter of street vendors filling the air.

And something different than the usual tonight.

The city never slept, always buzzed with energy. Yuu had become accustomed to its sights and sounds, finding them even comforting. Their best ideas were conceived against the hum of the cityscape. It was just soft enough to not fully distract, but just noticeable enough to tug at their thoughts for long enough to stray into new territories and concepts.

Light from lonely streetlamps created tears in the darkness, illuminating the path to their favorite downtown thinking spot: the Mostro Lounge. A good (albeit overpriced) drink would chase away their tiredness.

Yuu continued with that promise in mind, every step catlike. First quick, next slow, then quick, moderate, slow, quick, slow, quick, moderate. Their speed, ever alternating.

Their ears strained against the sounds of the city, slowly parsing through the individual elements.

Trains, buses, cars, chatter… and the soft footsteps masked by them. Footsteps which matched Yuu’s pace.

There was no mistaking it now.

I’m being followed.

They didn’t look to see who it was—the first rule of tailing a target was to never alert them to your awareness. Yuu would know (as oftentimes they were the one in the position of tailer).

They cast their eyes across the street, which was busy with bodies. Once Yuu merged with the crowd, they could easily shake off their stalker.

Their feet picked up their pace again, hurrying to the crosswalk. It was a glaring red, advising pedestrians to stop.

Shoot, Yuu cursed.

They felt a presence step up beside them. From the corner of their eye, they could make out a dark form--clothes. Yuu pretended to check the time on their phone, and glimpsed him in the reflection.

He was in a hoodie, with the hood pulled up and head down to conceal his features. His hands, too, were out of sight, a sea of baggy fabric hiding identifying features, save for his frame. Lanky, but reasonably packed with muscle to keep up with Yuu.

The man shifted, and his sight grazed theirs. His eyes were hard and icy, a silent threat.

Yuu quickly focused on the crosswalk light. Their heartbeat became as loud as the surrounding sounds. Screeching above the vehicles, shouting from the rooftops. THA-THUMP, THA-THUMP, THA-THUMP.

At last, the light turned from red to white.

Walk.

They started--and so did he.

“Excuse me.” A hand came upon their shoulder. The other pulled at something with a sinister glint. “Do you have a second?”

No walking, Yuu corrected themselves. Run!!

They sprinted down the crosswalk, jostling pedestrians with a hasty “sorry!” thrown back at them. As Yuu weaved through the crowd as fast as they could, they could not completely shunt out the man after them.

“Hey, please wait!! Where are you going?! C-Come back, I need to talk to you!”

His voice carried above the others. People jolted back, the crowd parting to make way for the man to charge forth. His volume swelled louder and louder as he gained on them.

Towering apartments seemed to bear down on Yuu. Their windows, glaring.

A shop. Find a shop and get inside!!

Yuu pumped their arms, pleaded for their legs to move more efficiently.

Again, a weight fell upon their shoulder. It was a clamp, fingers biting Yuu’s skin through their jacket as they dug in and held firm.

The other hand wielded the same shining object that it had before. Yuu looked more closely this time, and the unease in them dissipated. It was not the pointed tip of a knife, but the glint of a familiar officer’s badge wreathed in golden roses.

The man tore off his hood with a sigh--though Yuu noticed that he wasn’t one bit out of breath. Navy bangs fell across his forehead, his eyes a peacock green-blue, much friendlier under the streetlamps than the crosswalk signs.

He smiled at Yuu as though he were greeting an old friend. His grip turned into a tender squeeze. “I finally caught up with you!”

The detective awkwardly pulled away, confusion scrawled on their face. “Um... Sorry, who are you? I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“Oh! Uh...” The man jumped, retracting his hand. “That’s because we haven’t! Er, not officially anyway, but I’ve heard a lot about you!!”

Yuu pointed to his badge. “That. You’re an officer?”

“Yessir!” The man offered the proof of his identity and stiffly saluted. “Officer Deuce Spade, sir!! I’m a new recruit...!! I just joined the force a few weeks ago!”

Yuu mustered a faint smile. The darned fool was going to give them away. “... Am I in trouble, officer?”

“Nossir! Not at all!” His entire face shone with eagerness, earnest, and a slightly nervous energy. Maybe Yuu would have found it adorable (in the same way that a child trying hard was adorable), were he not blasting your occupation to the public. “Why would you be in trouble, sir?! You’re working with...”

“Okaaay, that’s enough out of you!” Yuu slapped a hand over Deuce’s mouth, silencing him.

Curious onlookers murmured amongst themselves. Some had taken to halt and full-on gawk. Children pointed, adults narrowing their eyes with suspicion.

Yuu frowned, removing their hand to shoo pedestrians away. “Nothing to see here, folks. Just a misunderstanding. Move along, Wonder Boy and I can settle this ourselves.”

“Wonder Boy?” Deuce, in a daze, pointed to himself. “Is that... me?”

“Who else would I be talking about?” Yuu folded their arms. “I assume you’re free now?”

“I am, sir! I was just let off my shift a little while ago, sir!”

“First, drop the ‘sir’. It’s giving me a headache,” Yuu instructed. “Second, if you’re free, then you’ll be joining me for a drink and a chat. We have things to discuss--chief among them being why you were following me.”

Ring-a-ling!

A bell sounded as the door to the Mostro Lounge swung open. Deuce stepped into a new world, Yuu at his side.

The interior itself was dim, but glass lights fastened in the shape of jellyfish projected swimming incandescent lights in purple, blue, and pink. Velvet booths lined one half of the eatery, the other, a glossy bar with tall, narrow stools, the shelves behind it healthily stocked with bottles in jeweled tones. Strangers poised with drink took residence in most of the seats.

The entire back wall had been repurposed into a massive aquarium teeming with aquatic plants and exotic creatures. Seaweed and coral gently swayed to the rhythm of the smooth jazz floating through the lounge, fish frolicking among them.

“Whoooa,” Deuce gasped, craning his head to drink in every detail. “I’ve never been to a place as classy as this. It looks so expensive. You think my salary’s enough to cover at least an appetizer?”

“Hang on tight to your wallet,” Yuu warned. “This place will squeeze you for every thaumark you’re worth and then some—and they won’t feel a bit of remorse about it.”

The detective raised an arm, flagging a nearby waiter.

Their uniform was simple yet sleek: dark dress pants, a white bow tie, spotless gloves, and a cummerbund and suspenders over a lavender button-up shirt. It allowed for slight variation—one waiter skidded by with his shirt buttoned as low as food safety regulations deemed safe. Another jotted down orders with a jacket thrown over his shoulders and a pair of glasses tucked into the crevice of his buttons.

The waiter Yuu called out to approached like a shark fin cutting through still water, neatly bowing to greet their waiting customers. He was prim and proper compared to the other servers, not a button out of place.

When he raised his head, Deuce marveled at his mismatched olive and gold irises, the teal of his hair marred by a stripe of black. Three diamond-shaped scales dangled from his left ear, as sharp as his eyes.

“I bid you welcome to the Mostro Lounge, honored guests,” the waiter said smoothly. He gaze immediately cut to Deuce. “I see you’ve brought a friend with you, today, Yuu-san. How delightfully rare.”

“Acquaintance. We just met outside under… less than ideal circumstances.”

“Oya, how quick you were to seize on that chance encounter. I may even deem you a bigger opportunist than our dear manager.”

“… Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Deuce inquired.

“Perhaps you will find the answer to your question, should you act as a patron at our establishment for long enough.”

“Quit toying with him, Jade. You know what we’re here for,” Yuu grumbled. “My usual.”

“If that is what you wish. And for this gentleman acquaintance of yours?”

“Just ice water is fine, sir!”

Jade maintained his polite smile. “Very well. One glass of ice cold water for you. I will bring you a menu as well, in case you begin to feel peckish late into the night.”

“Oh, thanks!”

“Right this way then.” Jade gestured for the two to follow him.

“He’s upselling you, you know,” Yuu pointed out under their breath. “Hoping that you’ll buy something when presented with the opportunity to spend.”

“E-Eh, he is?! I didn’t even realize…”

“Fufufu. Please, do not let your worries consume you. You have come to relax, correct? We at the Mostro Lounge ask that you put your fins and your feet up and enjoy yourself while the night is still young.”

They were escorted to two empty stools in a (relatively) quiet corner of the bar. The glass jellyfish lights were clustered in the center of the main dining area, leaving the corner like a slice of dark, uncharted waters. Jass music and conversation filtered into a muffled melody.

Yuu plopped down with relief, followed by an apprehensive Deuce. He slowly sank into the cushy seat.

“I will be right back with your drinks. If you will excuse me.” With another bow, Jade rounded the bar and rolled up his sleeves—the transition from waiter to bartender. Presenting his back to the duo, he set to plucking bottles off of the shelves.

Deuce blinked. He still hadn’t taken to fully processing his new surroundings. “Are we really going kick back and have drinks when there’s a serial thief on the loose?”

“We can’t talk about that in public, or risk blowing my cover. It’s safe to talk here,” Yuu reassured him. “What happens in the Mostro Lounge stays in the Mostro Lounge. Say what you want about the slimy staff, but they know how to keep their patrons’ secrets. Client confidentiality and all.”

The young officer brightened. “Ooooh, I get it!”

“… You’re not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Yuu remarked bluntly. They slipped off their baseball cap, letting loose their hair. “So? Let’s have it.”

“Have what?”

“Your reason for following me.”

“Oh!! That.” Deuce nervously scratched at the back of his neck. “That’s kind of…”

The detective drummed their fingers on the polished counter. Methodical, deliberate. “You mentioned that you recently joined the force. However, only senior officials in the police department and myself were privy to this operation. How did you come to learn about it?”

Deuce stiffened, thrown off his beat (if he had any to begin with). “Th-That’s…!”

“I’m asking you a question, Mr. Spade. Please answer me truthfully.”

“I… um… Truth is, I…” Deuce stared at his lap, unable to meet the detective’s eyes. “I might have eavesdropped when I returned from my patrol shift…”

“Go on,” Yuu coaxed.

“There was a report I had to submit to the Chief, but it sounded like he was busy in his office. It’s hard to not notice him when he raises his voice, sir. I decided to wait outside until he was done, and… well, I got curious.”

“Wasn’t Assistant Chief Clover also present? He just let you do that without a single protest?”

“Assistant Chief Clover was very nice to me! He laughed a little and said ‘make sure you don’t get caught with your hand in the cookie jar’!”

Darn it, Trey!! You could’ve been a LITTLE stricter with this guy…! Yuu groaned, massaging the bridge of their nose. “Okay, I think I’m starting to get a better picture of what went down. You followed me wanting to learn more about the operation.”

Like a curious child chasing after a white rabbit. Still immature, still wondering, and still way over their head.

“Yes, but that’s not all!” Deuce insisted. He abruptly stood from the table. “There’s an even more important reason than just satisfying my curiosity, sir!”

Yuu quirked an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

“I had to talk to you—without the Chief around. I had to. That’s why I followed you in secret.” The officer nibbled his lower lip, as if biting back something harsh and bitter from coming up.

“Out with it, Mr. Spade.”

“Pardon the intrusion,” Jade coolly interjected. His tone was nonchalant but his bemused smile was a telltale sign that he was relishing in every second of the hot gossip. “Your beverages.”

He slid two glasses between Yuu and Deuce before departing. One was tall and slim—a highball—loaded with carbonated water and fruity gummies. Yellow for jeweled pineapples, red for ruby berries, green for frozen mint, black for floral cacao, and blue from pure azure salt. It was Yuu’s usual, the famed Mystery Drink. The other glass was, by comparison, an ordinary drink of water, a single large, clear cube of ice floating in it.

A bead of sweat ran down Deuce’s jawline. Condensation forming and racing on his glass of water.

Suddenly, the officer slapped both hands on the counter, slamming his face down upon its surface. His navy hair splayed, forehead touching the table in a display of humility.

Yuu almost spilled their drink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m begging you, sir!! P-Please put me on the mission!!” Deuce pleaded, his voice shaky but resolute. “I… I want to help catch the Knave of Hearts too!!”

“If that’s all you wanted, why ask me? Go through the proper channels to…”

“I can’t!! The Chief would never allow it.” His expression creased with shame. “He says rookies need to work their way up from meter maid to working on cases.”

“He’s right. You need to grow into these things, not rush in head-first in a burst of passion.” Yuu made to take a sip of their drink—but the officer’s fist collided with the counter, the liquid inside the glass sloshing overboard. Seltzer water splashed onto their pant leg, leaving a sticky wet spot on a thigh.

“P-Please reconsider! I know how to handle myself in a fight! I’m fast, I could easily catch up with him if it’s a race on foot!”

“Look,” the detective said irritably, “I don’t know what you’re hoping to accomplish here. Fact is, no matter how much you ask, I wouldn’t want to take you on for this case. You’re too green behind the ears—and sorry, but I just don’t see you as an asset.

“You may be strong and quick on your feet, but it’ll take more than strength and speed to catch the Knave of Hearts. There’s a reason he hasn’t been caught yet.” Yuu tapped at their temple. “It’s this. He’s got smarts, and we need to combat that with smarts of our own.”

“I-I can be smart!! I can try to, at least! Please, just let me try…!!”

Frustrated, Yuu scrutinized the young man again. Their eyes roaming, searching, for detail wrong, a hair out of place.

Years of sleuthing had built up a great amount of cynicism and distrust in the detective. How many times had they pulled back the curtain, revealing the ugly truths hidden out of plain sight? How many bruised egos--both clients and coworkers--had they encountered? People seeking status or to feed their own pride.

Yet when they looked at Deuce, none of that ugliness or ego came through. Here was someone who stubbornly stared right back at Yuu, unwilling to back down, even when his dignity lay in tatters on the floor the instant he prostrated himself.

Another selfish bid for recognition? They ventured, toying with the idea. Maybe personal ambition, looking to climb up in the world.

“... One reason,” Yuu said, holding up an index finger. “Give me one good reason why I should take you on. Convince me.”

Deuce recoiled--as though even he hadn’t expected to have made it this far, or to be taken seriously at all. His brows creased with effort as he racked the recesses of his mind to find the right phrasing.

A second later, he let out a piercing shout.

“GAAAAAAAAH!!”

With a grunt, Deuce grasped his cup of ice water and lifted it to his lips. He hammered the drink in a single swig, releasing a satisfied hoot. The liquid courage had revived the man, returning the spark to him.

In a voice as clear as the drink he had just downed, Deuce said, “It’s for my mom. She’s just about the sweetest, most hard-working person I know.”

He hung his head and slammed his empty cup down, shaking the entire table.

“She raised me as a single parent. Mom never once complained, only wanted the best life for me.” Deuce glared into his glass, speaking with scorn and anger--not at others, but for himself. “And how did I repay her? I... turned to delinquency.

“I acted out because I wasn’t man enough to do the mature thing and work on myself!! She blamed herself for my stupid decisions! I made mom worry for me so, so much...”

Plip, plip.

Deuce faltered, letting quiet tears dribble down his cheeks and landing on the cube of ice left in his glass. Once they made contact with the frozen block, it was impossible to tell what was water and what was salt.

“I swore to myself that I would turn my life around... to show mom that it’s not her fault, that she did all she could to raised someone who could contribute to society!! So I studied really hard at the police academy, and even though my grades were crappy, I managed to graduate...!!”

He choked up, a concoction of fiery passion infused in his stuttering words. “I can finally be that model officer and make a change in the community! But I haven’t done a damn thing...! I just play meter maid while bad guys are out there running free, when I could be out there making this city a safer place for mom and everyone that lives here...!!”

The noises of the lounge seemed to fade into a stoic silence around Deuce. His declaration reverberated loudly. “I have to do this. I need to do this.”

He bowed again, his forehead pressed hard against the surface of the table. The single word he uttered was hoarse, desperate.

“Please.”

Deuce pried himself up almost painfully. The eyes were aquamarine, wet with hot tears. Something shone through them in shades of blue and green, priceless as any treasure: an honesty that burned like an eternal flame.

Yuu startled, striken by a single, haunting revelation: He’s telling the truth.

“... I don’t think I’ve met someone like you before,” they said cryptically. “I don’t doubt your story—but as touching as it is, I don’t know if...”

Hesitation reared its head, and Yuu forced themselves to look away. Couldn’t bear to see him, that wide-eyed sincerity.

Emotion clashing with their sound logic. Two things that shouldn’t have belonged together colliding.

Wait... things that don’t belong together? Things I didn’t expect, surprises and twists to the tale...

A ex-delinquent turned into a policeman. A selfishness turned selfless. An anticipated lie turned into a truth. Something there that hadn’t been before.

The detective’s mind raced, quickly outpacing the words leaving their mouth. A solution which subverted expectations, a trap laced with honey for a man with sticky fingers.

That’s it. We’ll pull a trick of our own.

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” Yuu abruptly announced. “You’re in on this operation, Mr. Spade.”

“R-Really?!” Deuce’s face nearly tore in half, his volume revving up like a motorcycle engine. “You mean it?!”

“I do.”

Yuu took a cool sip of their Mystery Drink. Flavors from all over Twisted Wonderland cascaded over their tongue—a triumphant, fleeting pleasure.

They set their glass down and bent over, gripping Deuce by the strings of his hoodie. Yuu tugged, bringing the policeman lurching forward.

His clammy forehead against theirs. Centimeters away, his eyes widened. A flushed heat climbed to his cheeks, his voice set in a stammer.

“S-Sir, what are we...”

“You’ll have to follow my instructions very carefully,” Yuu replied with a devious grin. “Listen up, rookie: cuz you’re going to be the star of this show. Here’s the plan...”

The ambience of the lounge drowned out Yuu’s whispers. From afar, their words could only be read through the shapes of their mouth, the increasingly confused and alarmed expressions that Deuce pulled.

Jade observed them patiently, chuckling to himself. “My, my, it seems like our genius detective has found yet another solution.”

CLATTER, CLATTER!!

A tray piled high with empty plates and dishes was slammed down. Jade’s twin peered around the stack, leaning lazily against the bar.

“Eeeh, but I bet against them this time.”

“Playing the contrarian runs its risks.” Jade picked up a glass, staring at his brother through it. The golden orb called his left eye was clear as a topaz. “As for myself, I’m excited to see how this plays out.”

PAP.

A notepad came down on the table as a third waiter joined them.

“Both of you need to stop gossiping and get back to work,” their manager chided, sliding the notepad—scrawled with fresh orders—to Jade. “Leave the customers to tend to their own business. We’ll soon know the outcome.”

[To be continued...]

239 notes · View notes

scoonsalicious · 1 year ago

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 1, Unarmed - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Mild language, Bucky and Reader being Tolkien nerds, light fluff, mention of rabies (it's a super scary disease and we should all be vigilant, okay?!)

Word Count: 1.6k

Previously On...: You just had the pleasure of meeting the very handsome Bucky Barnes. Despite a little bit of awkwardness during your first encounter, you have a feeling your life is about to get a lot more interesting now that he's been introduced into it.

A/N: You know what? I said I wasn't going to do this, but I thought "fuck it!" and decided to post all of Chapter 1: Unarmed. My anxiety is too high to just sit on it. So, please enjoy Ch1. Pt2! Pts 3 & 4 to follow!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic

The next evening, you were making your way back to your suite after a productive, albeit exhausting, day in your lab. You were working on a crisis prediction real-time monitoring system to anticipate global threats. You were convinced it would allow the Avengers to respond to trouble faster, but perfecting the privacy algorithm had been an absolute pain in the ass, and you still hadn't gotten it quite right. Technically, you could have farmed the project off to a subordinate; hell, even a team of subordinates of a subordinate, but this was one of your pet projects and you insisted on being hands-on in its development.

You had your tablet open as you walked, chewing on your thumb and reviewing the dataset from the run of your latest algorithm model one more time. Closer, but not good enough. If you were going to convince Tony that this was a program worth implementing, especially at its projected cost, everything had to be perfect. "Damn it," you muttered to yourself.

You rounded the corner and ran smack into Bucky's chest, dropping your tablet and causing him to drop the three books he'd been holding under his remaining arm. "Oh, shit-- I'm so sorry," you uttered as you bent down to retrieve the dropped items. Bucky leaned down to assist you, but you waved him off.

"’S my fault; I've got it," you told him, piling up his books for him. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Bucky leaned up against the wall and chuckled while you stood up and handed the books back to him. "I doubt you could hurt me," he said, smiling softly. "No offense."

You let out a small laugh. "None taken." He was a super soldier, after all. Stealing a glance at book spines, you couldn't suppress the smile that crossed your face. "Lord of the Rings," you nodded appreciatively. "Have you read them before?"

Bucky looked down at the books tucked under his arm. "No, first time. I read The Hobbit back when it was first published in '37, but these didn't come out until after..." he trailed off, but you knew what he meant. After he'd been abducted and brainwashed, turned into a murderer.

You nodded in understanding. "I'm actually really excited for you," you told him. "What I wouldn't give to be able to read them again for the first time."

"You a Tolkien fan, then?" he asked you. When you nodded, he continued: "When I finish them, maybe we can talk about them sometime? Steve's not really into fantasy."

"Yeah, I'd like that," you said. "If you're interested, we could watch the movies. I'll warn you though; they're long as hell, but their masterpieces. I mean, they didn't need to turn The Hobbit into three separate films, but still, they'll blow your fucking mind."

Bucky ran his tongue over his lower lip and you couldn't help but follow the motion with your eyes. "That sounds like fun," he said, his eyes twinkling with... something. "Your place or mine?" Was he… flirting with you?

"How 'bout you finish the books first, then we'll talk logistics," you teased. "Hey, speaking of, what floor did they end up putting you on?"

"Um, this one, actually," he said, tilting his head toward a nearby door.

"No shit," you remarked, laughingly. "You must have done something to piss Rogers off, because he put you right across the hall from me."

Bucky looked down, scuffing the toe of his boot against the carpeting. "He said it was the quietest floor, thought I'd prefer that."

You pursed your lips, considering. "Yeah, that makes sense; it's just been me on this level for ages. It'll be nice to have some company for a change."

Bucky looked surprised. "Stark's kept you down here all by your lonesome? That doesn't seem very nice."

You shook your head and dismissed his concern with a wave. "Oh, no-- Tony hates that I still live down here, actually. He put in all new living quarters a few years back. Everyone migrated upstairs, but I was the only one who didn't want to move."

"Why's that?" Bucky asked, appearing genuinely interested.

"I've lived here since I graduated college," you admitted, "back when it was still just Stark Tower. When Tony relocated here from Malibu to rebrand it for the Avengers, he wanted to redo everything, which meant fancy new suites for everybody. But I love my rooms, so I asked to stay put. They've been my home for so long now and I guess I just like the stability, you know?"

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "And Tony thinks highly enough of you that he let the blow to his ego slide?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I have enough dirt on him that he felt like he didn't have much of a choice." You snorted, not able to keep up the pretense. "No, but seriously, I know you and Tony have a complicated... history, but he's not a bad guy. Ego as tall as this Tower, yes, definitely, but he's also incredibly kind and generous. He paid for my entire college education-- undergrad, post-grad, doctorate. I owe everything I have to him."

Bucky shifted against the wall. "That is pretty generous. And he never expected anything from you in return?" He didn't say the words out loud, but the implication was there. Had you slept with Tony in exchange for your diplomas? The innuendo should have bothered you, but it had been posed to you so many times over the years, you'd stopped being offended by it. Before Pepper, Tony had had quite the reputation, after all, and an MIT education didn’t exactly come cheap. Most people couldn’t understand why he would offer a full ride to someone who, at the time, had been a complete stranger.

"Tony appreciates talent," you clarified. "When he finds it, he cultivates it, nourishes it, does everything he can to help it grow to its fullest potential. But he does like to get a return on his investments, and my skills have helped him make a lot of money." You shrugged your shoulders with a chuckle. "I love my job, I love the work we do, I love the stupid weirdo family we've built here, so I've always considered meeting Tony to be the best thing that ever happened to me. He's kind of like my own fairy godfather."

"So, what exactly does he have you do around here?" Bucky asked. "I know Steve said you did computer stuff, but you said it was an over-simplification."

You ran a hand up to rub the back of your neck while you considered your answer. How best to explain your position to someone who was born before the invention of the television? "Okay," you exhaled, "so, short answer is that I'm the CTO, the Chief Technology Officer, of Stark Industries and, under that, I run the Avenger’s Technology and Innovation Department. It's sort of our take on Research and Development. I've got a lab where I'm in charge of about 450 scientists, engineers, computer programmers, analysts, et. cetera. And our entire job is coming up with cool new ways of making things easier for the Avengers. Like, new features for suits, developing useful programs, coming up with new defenses and weapons, that kind of thing. And if we've got missions that require heavy computer- or tech-work, I come along for on-site support. I'm combat-trained and good with languages, so that comes in handy in the field. There’s probably a ton of field agents that could go in my place, but for Tony, it’s a matter of trust."

Bucky let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Damn. That's impressive. You're a little intimidating, you know that?"

Laughing, you tucked your tablet under your arm. "Please. I'm about as intimidating as a hamster." You paused to think. "Maybe a hamster with rabies, but still a hamster."

A series of beeps emanated from your tablet. As you pulled it out to check the alert, Bucky moved away from the wall. "I'm so sorry-- you were heading back to your room and I've basically been holding you hostage this entire time."

"Actually," you said, silencing the notification alarm that had distracted you, "That was just a reminder I set for myself to eat. Sometimes I lose track of time in the lab and completely forget to have dinner. Are you hungry? You could join me."

Bucky pulled his head back, regarding you as though he wasn't sure if you were serious.

"Or, if you don't want to, that's cool," you said quickly once you noticed his hesitation. "I mean, you wanted a quiet floor. Annoying neighbor is probably the last--"

"I'd love to," interrupted Bucky with a grin. "I'm just surprised someone like you would want to spend time with someone like me."

"Someone like me? Hey now, for all you know, I could be an absolute trash person," you teased, playfully punching him on the shoulder.

Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparkling with a newfound warmth. "Well, I highly doubt that, but I guess I'll find out soon enough."

"Don't say I didn't warn you when you do." You cocked your head toward the door to your room. "I'm going to change out of my work clothes. While I do, how about you decide what you're in the mood for, and we'll go from there. That sound good?" Bucky nodded as you let yourself into your room. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, but you found you were looking forward to spending more time in the company of Bucky Barnes.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky x y/n

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atoltia · 5 months ago

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We all make our choices (don't go too far)

Eiland finds the farmer injured and bleeding at the entrance of the mines.

TW: blood, panic attack

Tags: angst with good ending

Eiland x gender neutral farmer

-0-

It was his fault.

He didn't know it would come down to something like this, didn't really think about the consequences of his decisions.

It was just so exciting at first. They'd finally have a chance to open the mines again. It just made sense in his mind. Despite the destruction the earthquake caused, it also shifted the land so much that artifacts and hidden ruins that were once completely hidden were much easier to find.

And that was great, no? Their museum needed that, needed new things to make it a place where people all around Aldaria would come to visit and be happy. Mistria definitely needed it, needed that sort of attention since he knew how much of a challenge it was just to get some of the scraps from the Capital, even with their mother and father's influence.

He just wanted what was best for Mistria, wanted what he knew would bolster their renown tenfold. It was for knowledge, it was for truth. It was selfless.

He was selfish.

He should've known, should've known, should've known. Should have listened to Errol when the man aired his concerns. Should have done more research about the mines that they had. Should have asked Olric about the things that lurked there.

But he didn't.

And you had to pay for it.

-0-

It was like any other day for you.

You did your morning chores, did your daily greetings, did your daily deliveries. You remembered spending a few minutes hanging out with Reina at the inn, with her talking about the latest recipe she was developing.

She gave you some, of course. She always made sure to save you a serving to take to the mines since it wouldn't do anyone good if you went hungry there.

And it wasn't like you'd ever refuse, even though you did think it was unnecessary. You know that you have a good head on your shoulders and wouldn't put yourself in any needless risk. Yes, accidents can happen but you've assured Dr. Valen multiple times that you'd get out of the mines the moment you get into trouble.

Yeah, you were in big trouble this time.

You remembered a rather peculiar mound of dirt at the thirty-fifth floor of the mines the last time you were there. It wasn't like you didn't see mounds of dirt anywhere else, but you knew, just knew it in your gut that there was something special there.

An artifact, maybe? It's been a while since you've gotten a legitimate artifact. The Caldosian sword that you've given to the museum was the last one and it's already been several months since you've found another one like it.

You hoped to find another one, even if it was a small piece of pottery or a broken stone tablet. You like seeing the museum fill up with artifacts from a different time, a different age. It was wonderful.

(And it also didn't hurt that it made Eiland ridiculously happy.)

It took a while for you to admit it. You didn't even want to think of it the first time you had the smallest inkling of it. You didn't come here for romance, not really. Retirement. That was the plan. To have a place to call your own, to earn an honest living without the stress and dangers of mercenary life. The mines provided enough thrill for when you needed it, anyway.

But there was something, a tiny little thing, whenever you see Eiland smile. There was that shine in his eyes that just blew away all the shadows that lodged in your heart. There was a melody to his laugh that you found you couldn't get enough of, couldn't get out of your mind. It made you go insane.

And you tried, didn't you? Tried so damn hard to just forget it, forget him, and just focus on your damn self.

Of course, we both know just how weak you are to such things.

He was just so goddamned earnest whenever he talked to you, whenever he rambled on about the history of an artifact that you've brought, of the history of this place, of the several nuances in the transitions from age to age - you didn't stand a chance.

So there you were, deep into the mines with a shovel and brush in hand, carefully extracting a broken piece of pottery engraved with words that you didn't understand.

Really, it was your fault for not fully clearing the area before you decided to dig.

You barely noticed it, barely heard the sound of the... blob? slime? heading straight towards you as you still had both hands deep into the dirt. But you felt it, though. You sure as hell felt it when a projectile the size of a fist hit you straight in the chest, hurting like a bitch.

Your sword was in your hand, quickly parrying the projectiles to send them back as you know it to be the most effective way to kill those blobs. But the throbbing at your chest distracted you too much, the blinding white of the pain making you blind.

You didn't see the other one.

It happened so fast you barely even felt it. You just knew that you fell back into the rocks, knew that you couldn't see a damned thing, and knew you had to get the fuck away.

The handles for the elevator levers were slick. It took several tries, several pulls before you were able to jumpstart the mechanism, wincing as several more projectiles hurled at your already battered body.

It took a minute. Sixty agonizing seconds before you finally reached the top of the mineshaft. Just get out, just get out, just get the fuck out and get some help.

You made it a few steps, one foot after the other, which in itself was a testament to your strength of will. Breathing was difficult and you could barely see as the world kept spinning, swaying, doubling and tripling.

You swore as your leg gave way, and once again you fell down, down to the ground as the cavern kept moving under your gaze, your hand the only thing to catch your fall. Just needed to get back, needed to get help, needed to -

The sight of your hand perplexed you.

It was like as it was normally, more scratched, dirt underneath your fingernails. But there was a slick to it, trailing down, down, dripping onto the floor.

You didn't realize your breath pick up, didn't realize the way your heart started beating wildly as you turned your eyes from your hand to your waist.

And then you saw nothing else.

-0-

He didn't know what he would have done if he didn't convince Errol to take that walk with him.

It was a cool night, the crisp autumn air a refreshing sensation against their skin as it blew away the slight inebriation they had after a few glasses of wine at the inn.

It wasn't all that late into the evening. The other townspeople would most likely still be at it for a few more hours yet. He knew that Adeline wanted him to take another hour more to just enjoy the merriment of the place, but he was just so ecstatic at the find he and Errol unearthed at the Western dig site.

Errol humored him, as he always did, and he did admit that he also wanted to get in a few more hours of work on the thing before heading to bed.

"I can't believe winter's coming around." The wind blew at Eiland's cape, rustling against his covered body. His soft, bubblegum pink hair dancing amidst the evening chill. "Adeline's already started with the logistics for this year winter festival with Nora, so we'll probably gonna be busy in the next couple of months."

He laughed, playfully nudging Errol at the next gust of wind when he stopped, raised a brow.

Eiland looked around, his brows furrowing as he turned. Errol stopped along with him, frowned as his companion did.

"Is there something wrong?"

"I think I saw something." Eiland kept turning, looking, his hands now pulling his cape closer to his body. "I think-"

He gasped, blinked, when he thought he saw the wind and leaves assemble themselves into the visage of a dragon. It held his gaze for a heartbeat, and then another, before rushing into the cave entrance.

Eiland followed without a moment's hesitation.

And almost gagged.

He saw you on the ground, eyes turning glassy as you weakly attempted to staunch your own wound.

There was blood, there was blood, there was so much blood as he stood there, eyes wide, body frozen. It was so dark, so dark and yet he could still see the glint of the one eye that peaked out from beneath your hair, the shine of it dulling by the second.

He didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to do, didn't know what to do please someone help, he didn't know what to do-

Eiland was pushed aside rather harshly as Errol stepped into the entrance, already pulling out a clean kerchief from his coat pocket. "Pull yourself together, Eiland!"

Dazed, still confused, Eiland stumbled forward to where you laid, choking in a sob when those blinking eyes of yours focused slightly the moment he got into your space, your bruised and bleeding lips quirking upwards into a soft, somewhat cocky smile at the mere sight of him.

"Don't look too good there, Pink."

"Don't talk," Eiland whispered as he desperately tried to apply pressure onto your wound. "Please." He tried hard to concentrate on the task at hand, pointedly ignored the heat of your blood on his hands. "Please just don't talk."

"Let's get them to Valen." And in one swift motion, Errol muscled you onto his wide, wide shoulders, marching as fast as he could towards town.

And still, the thick scent of iron never left his senses.

-0-

It was close to dawn when Eiland came back to the manor.

Yet the sun hasn't peaked through the horizon yet, hasn't broken the tight clutches of the night.

There were bags underneath his eyes, a paleness to his otherwise rich brown skin. His soft, pink hair mussed from being tugged at too many times that night.

The usual bounce that pepped his step was gone. That bright, enigmatic energy that bounded with him whenever he walked was nowhere to be seen.

It was touch and go, the doctor said. Minutes. It all came down to minutes. If he and Errol were a mere five minutes too late...

His legs buckled, his exhausted body hitting the wall with a loud thud, his elbow rapping against the stone when his hand wasn't fast enough to brace him.

The sharpness of the pain jolted him, woke him, pulled him back to reality as he felt the burn of the bile that he's been holding all night tickle at the back of his throat.

You almost died. He saw it clearly on Valen's face when she tended to you, saw the way her eyes turned stony when those deft hands of hers worked on you.

There was a grimness to it. Those first two hours were the slowest of his life as he waited for Valen's word. As he waited with baited breath, waited, prayed to the dragon that oversaw the ancient people of the land from a time long gone.

The dragon was there. He saw it. So he prayed to just- please, please, please wherever it was, he just pleaded for it to watch over you.

He clutched his chest, those long fingers of his tugging, his hands pushing at his chest with the heel of his palm as he just couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe-

Eyes, bright with panic, looked around desperately, looking for something to hold on to, something to help, someone to help. But there wasn't. He was alone, he was alone, he was alone and there was no one else there everyone else was already asleep he had no one there at the time oh god please please please just help him up just help him up please it was his fault it was his fault it was his fault he knew that it was his fault that you almost died please it hurts it hurts it hurts so much please-

"Eiland!"

He choked, tears falling down his face like a violent torrent as slender arms reached over, encircling them around his waist. Smaller, firmer hands pulling him into a comforting embrace as the other rubbed at his back.

"A-adeline?"

"I've got you."

She lowered his head onto her shoulders and just rocked him, rocked him until his body unclenched, until his breathing evened out. It didn't matter how long. Didn't matter how hard he clawed at the carpet. Her brother was in trouble. That was the only thing that she needed to know.

She smelled like the plum blossom perfume that she loved, the sweetness of his evident on her being. And yet it couldn't replace smell of iron on his nose, couldn't distract him from the shaking of his hands as he remembered your blood, slick and hot, painting them with a horrifying red.

It was there, it was there, it was still there no matter how hard he scrubbed them away to the point where his hands were rubbed raw.

Not even the visage of his beloved sister could take away the image of your broken body laying just a few feet away from the mines elevator, your blood pooling around your body as your one visible eye stared at him as if it was you who came to save him instead.

It was his fault, it was his fault, it was his fault.

"No," Adeline said as she shushed him, maneuvering his body into a more comfortable position while they sat on the floor, the light of dawn slowly breaking through the massive windows. "No, it's not."

"I pushed for the mines to open, it was my fault. I almost killed-"

"You did no such thing!"

"How do you know?" His voice was barely a whisper, a pathetic blow of air as he drenched his sister's shoulder with his tears. The hands that were clawing at the carpet, now ruined with his own blood, gripped at Adeline's dress. "How do you know?"

"I just do." The way his brother cried devastated her. In all the years that they've lived together, in the years that they grew up together, she's never seen him this way and it just tore her to shred.

She tugged him up. "You need sleep."

He didn't resist. Not even when she hauled him to his bedroom, not when she removed his cape, not when she urged him to take his boots off, not when she tucked him under the covers.

"I'll be here, " she assured him as she pulled a chair over. "Just go to sleep."

He fell asleep in seconds.

-0-

Eiland sprinted to the clinic by mid afternoon.

He just woke up and without any other thought, just bolted out of bed to go to you. He didn't know what time it was, found that he didn't care. He just knew that he needed to get to you.

He quickly rapped at the door, his bandaged fingers stinging, as he looked around the window, trying to see if he could get a glimpse of you.

Valen opened the door, and Eiland noted the bags under her eyes, but she smiled at him as she let him in, chuckling as he headed straight towards the single private room she had at the clinic.

He did his best to be quiet as he peered through the door, fully expecting you to be fast asleep.

You weren't, to his dismay, if the flutter to your eyes at the sound of his footsteps was an indication.

You've been in and out of sleep for the past few hours. Doctor Valen assured you that everything was going well, though you weren't sure if that was the truth or if she just didn't want to scare you any further.

There was barely any memory of that night. You remembered that you were getting artifacts, remembered that you got attacked. But other than that? Nothing.

So to wake up at the clinic was a surprise, if a little terrifying. You weren't really the type to be fond of clinics and hospitals, even though you should have been used to it given the requirement of it ordered by your guild.

You just had to suck it up since you were already there. You weren't stubborn enough to ignore an injury, especially when said injury left you bedridden for the whole damned day.

It was boring here, too. Maybe you could borrow a book from Valen later, but other than that, there was nothing else that you could do except for maybe sleeping another ten hours away.

So to have Eiland peep through the door was a welcome distraction.

And yet you frowned. His hair was in disarray. Exhaustion was evident on his face and there was a hollowness to his expression that upset you.

You didn't like that expression on his. Didn't like it one bit.

"How are you?"

There was a smile on that tired face, and you were a little relieved to see that it reached Eiland's eyes.

"I wanna go home," you said a little cheekily. "I hurt like hell and I wanna sleep on my own bed."

The chuckle that Eiland gave was all the lift you needed, ecstatic that it seemed to push the dark cloud over the man's head away. But it seemed to have come back just as quickly.

Eiland tried to hold it together, did his best to not show you just how terrified he was. But seeing you on the bed, with flecks of dried blood on your face and fingers, with bruises that littered your body, was very close to breaking him.

He sucked in a breath, closed his eyes as his fingers clutched at your bedsheets. His lips trembled so much that he bit it. Hard. But still it didn't stop the tears from flowing.

"I'm sorry."

You frowned. "What for?"

"It's just-" he looked away, tried to reach for the composure that was ingrained in him since a very young age. "I'll talk about it later, okay? After you've been discharged."

It upset you to not know what was hurting him like this, but seeing how he seemed like he was only being held together by a single thread, you let it go.

"Come here," you said when Eiland kept quiet. You took his hand when he reached over, tugged him closer to you, holding his trembling hand in yours.

"I was so scared," Eiland murmured as he massaged the back of your hand. "I was so scared that I-" He caught himself, inhaled. Looked away.

"I thought I was going to lose you."

You blinked at him. And it clicked.

You smiled.

"You won't. I promise."

And you held each other's hand even though the day grew long, even when Valen asked if Eiland would stay the night.

He did, of course. He wasn't going to leave you anytime soon.

---

Check out my masterlist! and feel free to send requests in if you like haha

So I thoroughly enjoyed writing the entirety of this lmao

angst is just so fun to write.

#fields of mistria #fields of mistria eiland #fieldsofmistria #fom #fom eiland #fields of mistria farmer #fields of mistria eiland x farmer #fom eiland x farmer #fields of mistria errol #fields of mistria valen #fields of mistria adeline #my writing #atoltia writes in mistria #angst #angst with a happy ending

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princessmoms · 3 months ago

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Updates & Thank you's!

Hello to all 3k+ of you lovely people! Wanted to take a moment to give some thanks, updates and promotions again.

Huge thanks to the latest two Patreon supporters for helping to keep this blog up and running! As always, here's a link to anyone else that would like to support the artist and get to see letters and art before anyone else. [LINK]

You can also commission the artist to help support the work here. I love to draw your ocs and ships,. As a fair warning: Prices will be getting a slight increase at the end of this year. Patron supports always get a discount on commission prices! [LINK]

Traffic on the blog has been great and I just appreciate how much everyone is enjoying my OC. It's the best motivation to get so many interested questions about my characters as well as the canon ones! To help myself in streamlining the process, I've even made a dedicated spreadsheet to tracking all the letters received here from now on, including ones that unfortunately have to get discarded for one reason or another. Sorry guys, questions from your own OCs is fine but I'm not willing to take questions from people roleplaying as canon characters, even from other ask blogs/universes. It's just not the vibe here.

I have been considering using the good traffic here to promote other ask blogs I enjoy. It could be a fun way to spread the attention around.

Recently managed to upgrade my drawing tablet so you'll be noticing an upgrade to the quality of the comics from now on. And recently went into progress of buying new parts to build a dedicated workstation for art from now on. (I've worked from the same laptop I've had for a decade now so it will be like going from a flintstones car to a jet engine.) You can expect some delays once the parts arrive in December as I will need to build it and transfer many important files over to the new rig. That's all to say for today, thank you all for your time and love over this past year and here's looking towards the next one!

-Neon Yo💜 @overlordneon

#not a letter #ampm update #self promo

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mysanaf · 1 month ago

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༄ Weekly Fic Round-Up ༄

Fandoms:

DCU (Batman)

DCU (Batman) & Danny Phantom Crossover

The Scum Villain's Self Saving System (SVSSS)

The Vorkosigan Saga by Lois McMaster Bujold

Supernatural

DCU (Batman)

do I dare disturb the universe? by Hinn_Raven

Part 6 of Cassandra Cain Works

Cassandra Cain was falling, and there were stars. When she landed, she found herself stranded in a universe where there never was a Batman. Good thing that she’s a detective.

show me yesterday, for i can’t find today by indent

Then: The year is 2013. Jason Todd is alive, fourteen years old, and about to follow Sheila Haywood, his birth mother, into the hands of the Joker. All he wants is to save her life. Now: The year is 2018. Jason Todd was dead. But now he's a nineteen year old vigilante about to take down the latest C-Lister rogue. Unfortunately for him, its a rogue that specialises in time-travel technology. And what starts as an easy takedown...ends as a time travelling phenomenon. The two Jasons swap places.

Retrograde Motion by Lysical

All Jason wanted was a case that was simple, clean, and far away from the latest mess in Gotham. Magic wasn't the Outlaws' area of expertise, but they soon found themselves investigating a dark wizard with a penchant for organ harvesting. When an accident on the case leaves Jason as a clueless seven year old with a memory that's spotty at best, what else can his team do but go to his family for help?

ghost story by envysparkler

Jason Todd dies in Ethiopia. Well. Kind of.

The Right Substitution is Key by AddictedApple

Part 1 of The Right Substitution is Key

“The Red Hood has been good for Gotham,” Robin continued. “Crime in Park Row decreased by sixty one percent almost as soon as you showed up, and that’s even taking into account all the crime you commit. Drug overdoses have decreased by twenty two percent in adults and seventy nine percent in minors. Homeless minors are ninety two percent less likely to—” “Kid,” Jason interrupted. “Enough statistics. What the hell is this about?” Robin slowly lowered the tablet with his powerpoint presentation and looked up at Red Hood. “You care about Gotham,” Robin summarised. “Gotham needs Batman. Batman is missing and so is Nightwing. We need you to fill in for Batman.” “You want me to cover Batman’s patrols?” Jason clarified. “No,” Robin said. “I want you to be Batman.” Jason bluescreened. (Or: Batman and Nightwing mysteriously disappear before Red Hood has even started antagonising them, Robin is desperate, Gotham needs Batman, and Red Hood is Batman-Shaped.)

Call to a Lonely Earth by Drag0nst0rm

There are no children left in Gotham. Not until the multiverse spits one out right in front of Batman, at least.

Impetus by Starlightify

Part 1 of to ground

Harley leaves the Joker. Somehow, the entire Justice League ends up getting involved.

Fatherless Behaviour by lemonlimemadness

Tim gets de-aged, and tells absolutely no one. He also, in no particular order, gets therapy, does a lot of crime, channels his inner cyberbully, steals another Batmobile, moves to Metropolis (temporarily), causes an Arkham breakout, gets kidnapped, kidnaps someone else, and accidentally becomes a supervillain somewhere along the way. Parental supervision is for losers.

DCU (Batman) & Danny Phantom Crossover

Housetrained by Redflagship (Electrasev5n)

A summoning nets some Gotham punks a tiny god, wrapped up in the packaging as the sacrifice they tried to feed him: a housecat. Robin takes him home and decides to train him to fight crime. Danny is like, vibing. Turns out that he's really good at being a housecat, maybe the best there's ever been.

The Haunting of Drake Manor by Faeriekit

Prompt from @cyrwrites (And then, I, like, tweaked it a lot.) From prompt: "Tim, as a kid, wishes for a new mom. Desiree didn't know her wishes could turn against HER, of all people. However, Tim's wish had turned her into something resembling a human form and now she felt obligated to take care of the little guy." * Timothy Drake, son of amateur archaeologists, comes into possession of an antique oil lamp. It's plain enough, despite it's historic value— and it takes nothing at all to figure out how to light it. Alone on his birthday and left alone with a flame, Tim makes a wish. *👻🪔👻* Desiree wakes up in the corpse of a human woman.

The Scum Villain's Self Saving System

Perfect Failure by travelingneuritis (archive locked) Part 3 of Heartbreak Industrial Complex

Gongyi Xiao's strong, disciplined cultivator's body has exactly one weakness: it can't stop getting sex-pollened.

Abyss Arc Speedrun (WR IGT NG+ glitch hunter safe strat) by pallas_rose

After the Immortal Alliance Conference, Shen Qingqiu eventually recovered from his grief. A reasonable man, he accepted his limitations. Of course, there were—other options.

never told you what I do for a living by savrenim

【 The System was successfully activated! Bound Role: Wu Yanzi, Demonic Cultivator and Master of— 】 Not his body. He remembered dying. An undeniable System, before it had bugged out. Okay. Okay, he could handle this. Transmigration. Demonic cultivator. Named… Fuck, he hadn't actually caught what he was supposed to be named. …..There was only one piece of media he was familiar with that was about demonic cultivators.

The Vorkosigan Saga by Lois McMaster Bujold

L'oiseau qui vole by hedda62

Aral, in a fit of wickedness, assigns someone to follow Simon everywhere and keep notes, to see how he likes it.

Supernatural

The Love Story of the Runner Up by Margo_Kim

“So you saw a white man in a trench coat pop out in an alley,” Paul says, “and you thought, what, ‘I want to see where this is going’?” “If you get hung up on details like that,” Miguel says, “it will take a very long time to get through this story. For a very weird era in his life, Miguel dates an angel who is in love with another man.

#me myself and i #fic recs #SVSSS #Batman #Danny Phantom #vorkosigan saga #Supernatural #SPN #weekly fic round ups #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Cassandra Cain

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tia-amorosa · 1 month ago

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Episode 1 "Where is Bella?" (Part 1, long)

Pleasantview Valley

It's just after midnight and the lights are still on in the Goth family home. It often happens that one or other resident of the house suddenly wakes up in the night because the relatives are once again haunting the garden. Only one ghost has not yet appeared… one who would be much more welcome here than all the others.

Until a few years ago, there was still a lot of music and happy laughter in this house. A harmonious family life. Mortimer and Bella lovingly looked after their children. Even if the family always seemed a little strange to others at first glance, they were well respected in the neighborhood.

Everything was fine until one evening when Bella not came home. Mortimer was very worried and called the police. A few days later he received a phone call. In a distorted voice, he was informed that his wife had been kidnapped. He then set everything in motion to find her again. Weeks, months passed… He completed all the tasks set for him by the callers… Until one day he suddenly heard nothing more from them.

The police had launched a nationwide search. Cities, forests, everywhere they searched for Bella, but it was in vain. They couldn't even find her under a different name. Until the search was finally called off and she was declared missing and dead.

Today, Mortimer sits alone at the table with his children at mealtimes. Over the years, grief has made him grow older faster than is normal. There are even rumors that he has found himself a new lover, but this is only discussed behind closed doors. We are in the present day and there was a late visit.

“Dad, it's getting late, you need to sleep and take your medication"/ ”I know that myself, Mr. Littleton was just about to leave anyway. You'd better check on your brother again, he's not sleeping well at the moment, that's not good for his performance at school"/ ”Hm, mhm. Goodbye, Mr. Littleton"/ ‘Goodbye, Cassandra’.

Cassandra went into her little brother Alexander's room. He was completely upset again: “Hey, what happened again?”/ “Great-grandmother Prudence always makes those horrible noises with the chains”/ “hey, it's okay. I'll talk to her again, 0.k.?"/ ‘Mhm. will you stay with me for a while?’/ ‘hn..of course’.

She pulled the armchair closer to the bed, as she always did when her little brother couldn't sleep. “At least they listen to you, why not me?"/ ”You have to be more assertive. Besides, you're still little, they've always annoyed me too, our father too"/ ‘and mom?’/ ‘No - not mom, they always liked her somehow’…

“Do you think mom is a ghost too?"/ ”Mh, maybe. “/ “then why isn't she with us, all Goths are always together, whether dead or alive”/ “so you wouldn't care whether she's alive or not?”/ “hm, not like that either… But somehow it does, the main thing is that she's with us"/ ”mhm. Now close your eyes, 0.k.?"/ ‘Good night, Cassy’.

After her brother fell asleep, she left the room. Her father was on his way to bed himself. “Has he calmed down again?"/ 'Yes. Have you…"/ ”I've taken my tablets, yes. It's late, you should be asleep too. “/ “in a minute. “/ “who was it this time?”/ “Prudence, you know how she is sometimes” / “hh yes. What time will you be home tomorrow?"/ ‘Maybe a bit later than usual’/ ”Mhm. Good night.”

. Cassandra has always coped well with little sleep. So she uses the nights to devote herself to her work. “I know you're dead, mom. But your soul is out there somewhere… I'm in contact with the brothers every day, I can't get any further in the institute on my own, and they're the best in their field that I could get through an insider. We will find you”.

She went outside to take care of the garden plants. “Hi, Grandpa Gunther"/ ”Hello Cassandra. You're busy again"/ ”Someone has to do it, eh? And you, are you watching the news on the internet again?"/ ‘I have to keep the other side up to date, they're crazy about the latest gossip’/ ‘hnhn, have fun’…

Once the plant had been tended to, she turned her attention to her great-grandmother Prudence's grave. “You don't dare go out today, do you? Don't forget that Alex tells me everything. And once our mother is back here, you won't be so quick to get the chains out. I'll find her, we,…, these boys the only ones I'm not afraid of being ripped off, i trust them.”

“Good night, Grandpa, I'm going to sleep now“/”Sleep well…. My goodness, what are they up to? We never used to have anything like this. Oh, the latest soccer results, that's important of course…”. Cassandra had to smile as she left the dining room. Her grandfather spent a lot of time on the computer when he came to visit. In this house, you never know who might drop by the next night.

@greenplumbboblover, @plumbobgothica , @solorisims😊

NOTE: The two pictures you see at the beginning (from the past) were two pictures that were in Mortimer's album. That gave me a lot of inspiration for the story. :) I hope you liked the first episode. The interval between episodes will be irregular. So you'll have to be a little more patient with this story :) If anyone wants to be tagged when a new episode is published, please let me know. My story posts are also welcome to be shared.🙂😊

#sims3 #ts3 story #Goth Tales #mortimer goth #cassandra goth #alexander goth #ts3 screenshots #ts3 simblr #sims3 story #goth family

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greatlobbyis123 · 4 months ago

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gumnut-logic · 4 months ago

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John Tracy hated taking public transport.

He hated the cramped seats, the invasion of his personal space, the fact the bus stopped every few minutes to pick up more passengers and the noise.

It was stressful, annoying and far too full of people.

But the astrolabs were too far from the dorm to hike it or bike it, so bus it was.

He mapped out the most direct route, left early to avoid the crowds and handled it the best he could. Earphones helped and he never travelled without his tablet and a network connection.

He made do.

He made do for over a year. Every morning and every night.

The work was fascinating and he thoroughly enjoyed it. He considered getting a car, but it wasn’t practical and parking was non-existent, so he stuck with the bus.

Despite the fact he hated it.

Every trip he buried himself in his own world whether it be his work, research, a good book or even a movie. He shut the world out and more importantly anyone who sat next to him.

Sometimes this was not possible.

Because sometimes they spoke to him.

John had been brought up polite. His grandmother would have slapped his wrist if she found out he was ignoring people. So, he always replied. Often concisely, but always watching his manners.

That often opened the floodgates. Because if there was anything common between big cities it was the people who were lost in them, desperately alone in a sea of faces.

John liked being alone to a certain extent, but he was blessed with a close and large family.

Some people had no one.

So, ever so reluctantly, he found himself answering their call for help.

The first was Mrs Bucklin. She was a tiny woman, well dressed, but slightly scented with mothballs as if her clothes hadn’t been out of the closet in a long time.

She sat right beside him and immediately enquired as to what he was doing.

At the time he was coding a new game and her sharp voice startled him enough for his fingers to slip and enter a chain of commands he had not intended. He would have sworn if he was alone, but the program righted itself and the new commands, instead of corrupting and crashing the function, actually appeared to improve it. He frowned and hastily input some bridging structures so the code wouldn’t fragment, idly wondering if the error would improve the game, ruin it, have him need to rewrite the whole section or be the spark that would initiate sentience.

Great, his tablet would rise up and eat him while he was distracted by a random bus passenger.

She did apologise and he did reassure her that it was all okay in the hope she would let him be.

She didn’t.

He learnt she had three cats, a niece in another country (he didn’t gather which because the woman’s pronunciation defied translation), that she had lost her son in the Global Conflict, she liked his hair (that was a first) and that he looked like an intelligent young man.

He acknowledged her quietly and politely as he eyed his code and the results of an initial compile test. How did it do that?

Her cats were named Scottie, Gordy and Allie.

He did blink at that, but didn’t comment.

Eventually, she said goodbye and got off the bus at her stop.

He would have forgotten about her, except she sat next to him the next day and the day after that.

Apparently, this was her route to work, and he was such a polite young man.

Three weeks later she admitted he made her feel safe just by being there. She had been mugged three times in her life and public transport was as much a bane for her as it was for him.

He actively kept an eye out for her after that.

Gus was a different matter.

Gus didn’t have a home and he often rode the bus just for the air conditioning and comfort.

He sat on the other side of the walkway to John. He didn’t say much and would likely have never said anything if it hadn’t been for the gang of boys who decided to throw verbal potshots at him one day.

John had had an all-nighter with exams coming up, so he was cranky. His latest project had stalled – the same game he had been tackling when Mrs Bucklin had startled him. The core of the program had become a little unpredictable and he couldn’t work out why.

So, when a group of teenagers crawled to the back of the bus and started needling a fellow passenger, it was not only a situation where the innocent man appeared to need a bit of a rescue, but it also pissed John off.

There were four of them. Teenagers flocked in groups apparently. He’d never been one for that formation himself, but he knew of them, had encountered them and Virgil had kicked a few of their asses for him.

John was in college now.

He could kick his own fair share of ass quite happily.

“Leave the man alone, or I will call the police.” He raised his voice, but not his head, transmitting all the body language of how beneath his notice they were and how he might respond if they didn’t comply.

“Mind your own business, kook!”

There was always a brave one amongst the group, usually the ringleader, the head dickhead.

At least they were only teenagers.

This time he did look up and put all that communication theory into the coldest stare possible. “Excuse me?”

All four of them froze. Hell, they couldn’t be older than fifteen, somewhere between Gordy and Alan. If either of his brothers acted like this, there were three older brothers who would quite firmly re-educate them on proper conduct.

Not that he thought either of his younger brothers would do such a thing.

In any case, all four of them stared at him wide-eyed. The eldest swore and climbed out of his seat just as the bus pulled up at the next stop. He snarled at John as he stalked past, spitting profanities. His cohorts followed and they climbed off the bus.

It was lovely and quiet after that and John went back to tackling his misbehaving program.

“Thank you, sir.”

John blinked up at the unkempt man who had been the centre of the teenagers’ torment.

A small smile. “You’re welcome.”

Was this variable being changed by the program itself? How the hell could it do that?

He didn’t fail to notice after that incident that Gus, as he introduced himself the next time they met, always sat near John on his rides, morning or evening.

John met other people. Mrs Magarey and her three young children always needed a hand with her pram. John sometimes took advantage of this and stuck the pram in the footwell of the seat next to him so no-one could sit there.

That made Mrs Bucklin sit behind him and whisper her stories in his ear.

He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with that either.

Two other students from his faculty took the same bus as well. Ridley was in the year behind him and always had a friend on the phone. She chattered a lot and he learnt to tune her out.

Well, until the day he boarded the bus and found her crying into her tablet.

She had lost her entire thesis in a computer crash. He was polite. He enquired and she answered, staring up at him as if she had never seen him before. Which was entirely possible. John didn’t like to draw attention to himself.

He accompanied her off the bus that day and delved into her damaged computer. He dug up her thesis and she gushed all over him, even crying into his sweater.

He hugged her awkwardly and wished her all the best.

After that, she always said hello and had a smile for him.

John smiled back, but his program was still not behaving. It acted as if it had a mind of its own and it was very distracting.

Mrs Bucklin said it sounded like cat number two, Gordy. Never behaving, but always loveable.

John stared at her when she said that, and wondered if she knew more than she was letting on.

The day Virgil landed in the seat beside him on the way to the labs startled him enough to drop his tablet.

“Hey, Johnny.”

He fumbled between the seats for the device. “Don’t call me Johnny.”

“Sorry.” But he could tell Virgil was anything but.

His fingers touched the cool metal of his tablet and he scrabbled for it. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a brother drop in on his brother to see how he is doing?”

John eyed him. If it was Scott sitting next to him or Gordon, he might have been suspicious of any double meaning his brother might be communicating. But this was Virgil and although the engineer had a sense of humour that could cut when necessary, this wasn’t his style.

“I guess he can. But why the bus?”

Virgil shrugged. “Didn’t catch you early enough. Barely caught the bus behind you. I thought your classes didn’t start until later.”

“They don’t.”

“Then why are you up so early?”

It was John’s turn to shrug. “Just avoiding the crowds, I guess.”

Virgil eyed him with a slightly worried frown.

“And who is this lovely young man who has taken my seat?”

Oh god.

Virgil stared up at Mrs Bucklin as she bustled in to sit behind them.

An internal sigh. “Mrs Bucklin, this is my brother Virgil.”

“Your brother?” She eyed Virgil as if inspecting him for sale. “Doesn’t look like you at all. Where’s the red hair?”

Virgil arched a dark eyebrow.

“Nevertheless, Mrs Bucklin, Virgil is my older brother.”

“Then how come we haven’t met before? You’ve been travelling this route for a year now and we haven’t seen hide or hair of him.” She continued to glare at Virgil as if he was a threat.

Virgil was shifting in his seat, his expression decidedly wary.

“Virgil has been assisting my father on a project. He’s an engineer. I’m unsure what he is doing here right now.”

“Hmph, well, in my opinion, he should have been here earlier.” She addressed Virgil directly. “Did you know your sweet little brother has been a bastion of this bus route, defending and assisting all?”

What?

John’s head shot up. “Mrs Bucklin-“

“Don’t you go all humble pie on me, young man. I saw what you did to those teenagers and how you help young Mollie every week. That girl is going to work herself into an early grave. And poor Gus, you’ve given him a new reason to try. Did you know he has enrolled himself in a course? Got himself a grant from the government and everything. Got help from that employment assistance group. Not to mention that doe-eyed young student who stares at you with love hearts floating about her head. I don’t know what you did for her, but I have no doubt she would do anything for you if you asked.” She turned back to Virgil, accusation in her eyes. “Why haven’t you been looking after your brother?”

Virgil’s wide eyes darted between John and the older woman.

John had no idea what to say.

“Well?” Mrs Bucklin’s glare was determined.

“Ah-“

“Is this man harassing you?”

John looked up to see Gus looming over Virgil.

You know, the Virgil who lifted weights that weighed more than his brothers on a daily basis.

John frowned. Gus had a new coat on and was looking much healthier than the last time he paid attention. “No, Gus. This is my older brother Virgil.”

And Virgil was subjected to another staring glare. “Doesn’t look like your brother.”

What?!

“I can assure you that he is indeed my caring older brother and he is not neglecting me in any way.”

Gus grunted, still glaring at Virgil. He nodded in John’s direction. “Make sure he eats more. He’s too skinny.”

That started Mrs Bucklin off again. “My goodness, yes. John you do not eat enough. Have you tried any of those recipes I recommended?”

Gus was still eyeing Virgil.

Virgil appeared to be regretting several recent life choices.

“I’m fine, Mrs Bucklin.” He raised his hands. “And both of you, Virgil is not responsible for my wellbeing.”

His tablet beeped. A glance and he found a text message from Ridley. You okay over there?

He looked up and found her at the other end of the bus staring back at him worriedly.

A sigh.

A flick of his fingers. I’m fine.

He turned back to Virgil who was literally cornered, only for his tablet to chime again.

You free tonight?

Oh, for the love of-

“Guys, Virgil is my big brother. He looks after me. He cares. I’m fine. He’s here for a visit. I don’t know why yet. Stop glaring at him.”

Gus grunted again and wandered off to his seat. He didn’t stop eyeing John’s brother for a second.

Mrs Bucklin let off a slightly miffed sound before leaning back in her seat. “He better. Or I have a mind to bring Scottie with me next time. Or maybe Gordy. To teach him a lesson.”

What the hell?

“No need, Mrs Bucklin. I assure you.”

Virgil was staring at John as if he wasn’t sure what planet he was on.

John sighed.

Yeah, he hated public transport.

It was stressful, annoying and far too full of people.

His tablet pinged again. This time it was the program he was working on. It was claiming it was dawn despite the fact the sun had risen an hour ago. He let out an exasperated hiss.

Virgil was still staring at him.

Damn public transport.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #john tracy #nuttyfic reblog #because I quite like this one #and because it is Johnny's birthday today #I should write a sequel #I vaguely remember thinking about one in the past #goes looking through writing book #Happy birthday Johnny

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beatinginavoid · 7 months ago

Text

KineticLife

There was something about new technology that many people seemed unable to resist. Whether it was the latest phone, watch, television, sound system, or any number of devices, they simply drew people in.

Some technology appealed to certain people more than others. It all depended on one’s likes and interests after all.

The newest commercially available gadget that had gotten you all giddy really didn’t look like anything special. It was a tiny device, about the size of a fingernail, and was powered by kinetic motion. It had the ability to wirelessly connect to any of your devices that supported it.

The one downside to this gadget was that it needed minor surgery to install.

For this special piece of hardware had to be placed inside the body to work. More specifically, it was carefully attached to the apex of the heart, where the muscle walls were thickest for safety and maximum grip.

You had just left the hospital after having the procedure done. Your chest felt weird from the local anaesthetic, though getting to see the operation had been worth it. The ultrasound they used to monitor and help locate the apex had been amazing to watch. There, on full view on the screen, was your heart – the hard-working muscle that pumped your lifeblood around inside you. The one organ that drew your attention time and time again.

You could see both atria and ventricles clearly, the valves visibly opening and closing between them, allowing the flow of blood currently invisible on the screen. You couldn’t help but stare, admiring the way your strong little pump rhythmically contracted. The movement flowed elegantly, if not a little violently in its raw intensity. It picked up speed, reacting to the touch of fear and the overwhelming anticipation.

Trying to stay calm in that environment, while indulging in the gift of actually seeing your heart in action in real time, had taken all of your willpower. You wanted the operation to go as smoothly as possible after all.

And it had. You couldn’t wait to get home and try it!

The moment your front door shut behind you, you raced over to your computer and jiggled the mouse to wake it up. The necessary program was already installed and you opened it almost feverishly. KineticLife popped up and you navigated to the Sync option. A quick scan was performed and the window asked if you would like to connect to the following devices: your phone, tablet, laptop, KineticLife implant.

Without hesitation you click on the last option and wait impatiently for the connection to be made. It prompted for a device number and, having the slip of paper ready, you carefully input the sequence. Number confirmed. Connection successful. The program became full screen and finished loading.

So many options! How could you choose which one to try first?

Best to start small, with the basics, and work your way up from there.

…it was a good thing that you and your neighbours had quite a bit of space between houses, otherwise this wouldn’t be nearly as fun. Your speakers were far superior to your headphones.

You select the Audio option and can’t help but gawk at all of the things you can pick from. Basic, keep it basic. You chose Stethoscope and were presented with a variety of auscultation points. This program was thorough. You turned the speaker volume right down and clicked Tricuspid.

A few seconds passed in silence and you slowly began to turn the volume up. A faint thumping could barely be heard and your mouth opened in a little ‘o’. You turned the volume higher, higher, higher, until the sound was booming, bouncing around the indoor space.

BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP, BA-THUMP

It was glorious! The sound was so crisp and clear. The valves sounded so clean, working beautifully. You poked the program and opted to Show Heart Rate. Numbers immediately appeared in a corner. 89.

You raised an eyebrow and started doing some squats. Your heart quickly sped up and you almost lost yourself in the drumming of the speakers. You stopped at twenty squats and looked at the rate.

BDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMPBDMP

142.

It felt, and sounded, so amazing. You sat down in front of the monitor and let your breathing regulate. Every beat rang through the room, the pace slowing as your cardiac muscle recovered. You watched as the numbers dropped in time with the pounding. KineticLife made you grin widely.

You selected the Visual option, leaving the stethoscope and heart rate options running. Just like the Audio, the Visual section had quite a number of things to choose from.

KineticLife used a mixture of detecting electrical current and state-of-the-art sonar and echolocation technology that bounced off the pericardium to create high-quality images like an MRI. You had seen an ultrasound earlier that day, so you clicked on MRI then Sagittal.

Within seconds a side view, from the immediate left of your heart, emerged on the screen. The monitor was now filled, top to bottom, with a view from just above the right and left atrium, to just below the apex where the implant now lived, a small, dark square. You clicked and dragged your mouse, now enjoying a three-quarter top-down view so that all four chambers were visible.

The cardiac muscle walls and valves were dark, highly visible and contrasted wonderfully against the flow of blood that appeared milky on the screen.

You watch your heart pump, blood rushing in and out of the organ in rhythmic bursts. Each squeeze of the atria, each contraction of the ventricles was perfectly aligned with a ba-thump from the speakers. It was the most beautifully synchronised song and dance you had ever had the pleasure to witness. The rate was sitting at a nice and steady 78.

Twenty squats later you sat back down, enthralled by the fast undulations and whooshing blood.

Bdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpbdmpb-dmpb-dmpb-dmpb-dmpb-dmpb-dmpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpbathumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thumpba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump..ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

From 138 down to 81. What a true marvel of nature’s mechanical engineering capabilities. Far better, cleaner, and more efficient than any man-made motor.

You stared, transfixed, as each part moved in sequence. The left and right atrium, full of blood, squeezed, opened up a valve each, and sent the fluid rushing into the ventricles. The valves snapped shut behind the gush of blood. BA.

The ventricles then contracted, as if a hand had wrapped around them and tightened its grip. The valves to the aorta and the lungs blew open as the blood was pumped through, delivering a new precious load around the body. They too snapped shut after the whoosh of blood. THUMP.

The cycle repeated, the pump working non-stop, each action happening again and again, a cycle lasting less than a second before the next one came along.

You grabbed the mouse and dragged it around again slowly, admiring your heart from every angle in a dream come true. You eyed every twitch and pulse of your cardiac muscle, thrilled at the detail the tiny implanted device afforded you.

And there were still so many options to play with! You were going to be there for a while. At least you had a great soundtrack.

Ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…ba-thump…

-----

I want tech like this. omg. Imagine how much it would cost! -cries in poorness-

Let me 👀 my 🫀

What would YOU do with KineticLife? What settings/options would you want it to have?

#cardiophile #cardiophilia #writing #cardiophile writing #heart technology #heartbeat #beating heart #self stething

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